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shadyruinskryptonite · 2 years ago

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Titan Bending Chapter 9

Warning: Violence consistent with cannon, NSFW so MDNI, language, major character death (both consistent with canon of both AOT and ATLA as well as diverging from canon), so much trauma literally everyone is so traumatized, very much slow burn, a little enemies to lovers, SO MUCH ANGST, hurt/comfort, hurt and delayed comfort, AFAB reader

Chapter Warnings: Justification of “killing a few to save the many” (I’m not saying I think this way btw, just in the context of this chapter it’s to attempt to help them feel better), this is also taking place in the torture episode so while I don’t describe what’s happening it’s notable that it’s going on, super brief mention of reader being sexually active, talk of recurring nightmares

WC: 3250

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Masterlist

Tags: @mochminnie @sseleniaa

It turns out, I didn’t have time to ruminate on the difficulty of the night, because our job wasn’t over yet.

After discussing where we’d meet Dimo Reeves and the members of the Interior Police, we head there immediately to ensure we’d beat them there since we had to move on foot.

Catching up with Levi, I whisper so as to not worry everyone else, but I have to air out my worries about this plan.

“Levi, do you really think this will work? We didn’t have to do anything to turn Reeves. How do we know he won’t run right to them, give up our location, and instead of a wagon with two Interior Police it’s an entire brigade?”

“We don’t know,” he deadpans. I stand there waiting for him to elaborate and after a beat, he does. “The only thing we have going for us is that the Interior Police coerced his cooperation. We brought it about through appealing to his humanity. I don’t often put my faith in humanity,” he pauses to glance at me and then quickly looks away again before finishing, “but I think I trust humanity more than the MPs.”

I nod, contemplative silence engulfs us.

“Levi?” I ask.

“What?” he responds, without the bite that his tone normally has towards me.

“...what’s the difference between MPs and the Interior Police? And…what does MP stand for?” I’ve learned a lot, but there are still things I can’t piece together with context clues alone.

He looks at me again, and this time I swear his face is softer, almost like he’s speaking to a child.

I don’t know what’s worse, being looked at like a child or being berated.

Much to my surprise, he explains what the Military Police are and how the Interior Police are a part of the larger group. Most importantly though, he explains why the MPs aren’t trustworthy.

“Glad to see that some things never change, regardless of culture or location,” I muse more to myself than to him.

“Human greed is one of the only guarantees in life,” Levi states as we arrive at our destination.

Did I just have a good, real conversation with Levi? I…I don’t think I can believe it.

Not long after we arrive at what looks like an old farmhouse, we hear a wagon coming over the hill. The stone is in place. All we can do is wait.

The sound of Reeves speaking with someone is slightly comforting, and as they begin to crest the hill I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at the sight of only one wagon.

So, he did help us. Damn y/n, maybe you should stop being so judgemental. First Levi, now this guy? Maybe everyone isn’t always a bad person…

I overhear Reeves speaking harshly with his son, something about smelling easy money and long-term profit.

Ah, nope, still a bad person. Just his greed lines up with the greater good for now. At least I’m founded in the way I see people.

The two members of the Interior Police are separated into different cells. What kind of farmhouse has cells? Levi bans us from coming down. Soon, the tell-tale sounds of violence can be heard, even with the door to the basement closed. After sitting there, listening in varying degrees of horror, Hange bursts into the house with Moblit not far behind. We make eye contact and I nonchalantly motion my head towards the door. Reclining in the dining chair, I mildly state, “follow the screams.” Not another word is said as they disappear downstairs to join Levi.

As the yelling intensifies, everyones’ stomachs turn. Even mine.

I know I’ve seen a lot in my day but, this…this is too much even for me. I don’t know how the kids are even upright.

I’m in my own world, disassociating. Everything is slightly blurry. Noises muffled. I haven’t visited this corner of my mind in a while, but I know it’s safe. It always has been and always will be.

When I realize I’m disassociating, I force myself back into reality.

This is a slippery slope for you y/n. Come on, pull it together. If not for you, for them.

When I tune back into the conversation, I hear Armin say, “...it’s just that their views are different. No, it’s just that they’re in a different group. And for that, we’ll take their lives.”

“Armin,” Mikasa tries to intervene.

“We’re not good people, not anymore at least.” As Armin finishes speaking, I can tell they’re all taking what he’s saying to heart.

I decide to break the silence before any of them are left alone with their own thoughts for too long. “Ya know, while I’m only barely older than each of you, I’ve seen a lot of life in my day. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s really no such thing as ‘good people’ or ‘bad people.’ People might choose to do good or bad things, but that’s not what makes them who they are.” I pause to look around, and it seems like only Armin is looking at me. Like he’s desperately searching for me to give him a way out of how he currently feels.

I continue, “Of course, there are exceptions to this concept, I would say anyone that finds joy in doing bad things is a bad person. But the harsh reality of the world is that the few bad people, force good people to do bad things. At the end of the day it’s kill or be killed.”

Mikasa bristles beside me and at this point, I know they’re all hearing me but I can’t tell if it’s helping. So, I switch tactics. “Think about it this way: we all believe that one way or another, Eren is going to be the key to finding new information and, hopefully, eliminating the titans, right?” I pause until I see them all nod. “We don’t know what these people have planned. Maybe they want to kill him. Maybe they just want to keep him locked away to prevent us from finding answers. Either way, their actions are directly preventing us from using the only tool at our disposal which in turn prevents us from saving humanity. If they aren’t stopped now, whatever beliefs they’re protecting could hurt the larger society. I know, it doesn’t make the idea or practice of taking out real people any more palatable, but that’s because all of you are good people.”

When I step down from my soap box, I can feel them all internalizing what I was talking about. Maybe I’m just gaslighting myself so that I can feel better, but looking at all of their faces it seems like what I said did end up helping.

In the softest voice, Armin speaks up next to me and asks, “what about the torture though? It’s not ‘torture or be tortured.’”

As if to prove his point, another blood curdling cry can be heard ringing out and we all flinch. I turn back to him and, with a hand on his arm, I say the only thing I can think of. “If the day comes that one of us,” I motion to everyone at the table, “has to torture someone, then we’ll talk about it. But for now, let’s just cope knowing that we aren’t in that position.”

Since no one was really in the mood to sleep, I suggested we all go outside and keep watch together. They liked that idea.

I stayed behind momentarily to make us all some tea, and it was as I strode across the kitchen that I heard the man in the basement berating Hange and Levi. It took every ounce of strength I had for me to not march down there like some entitled mother accosting their child’s bully. Luckily, I didn’t have to restrain myself for very long because Levi then quickly called a break.

When they came upstairs for a breather, I could tell how much the task weighed on them.

If there were another way, they’d have taken it. If there were another way, they’d have taken it. If there were another way, they’d have taken it.

As I repeat my little mantra to myself, I offer all of them, Moblit included, cups of tea.

“I’m making a big batch for the kids, would any of you like a cup? I had them go outside to ‘keep watch together’ since no one was tired, but I already figured I’d make enough for the three of you anyway.” I smile as kindly as I can at them.

They’re going through so much as well, they don’t have the luxury of going outside.

Hange begins to decline my offer saying, “Thanks b-”

“Sure, I’ll take a cup. It better not be shitty though,” Levi cuts her off.

I grin widely at them now and, while pouring three cups, say, “Zuko’s uncle that I traveled with now owns his own tea shop in Ba Sing Se’s version of the interior so you could say I learned from the best.”

Placing the cups in front of them, I accidentally bump Levi’s hand. Luckily he had taken his gloves off, but it still made me jump a little. Holding eye contact with just Levi, I say to the group, “you’ll have to give me a review once you try it.” I turn back around and start loading the six teacups for the kids and I onto a big plate I found to act as a tray.

Levi raises an eyebrow at me and says, “you sure you got that?”

I pick up the tray with ease and smirk at him, smugly saying, “I was a waitress in Uncle Iroh’s tea shop, I think I’ll manage.”

With that, I’m out the door to deliver tea and they’re off to continue what they’ve gotta do.

The six of us quietly look at the stars for a while and, disregarding the day’s events, it was almost peaceful. However, we’re not out there for 15 minutes before Moblit is coming to fetch us because they have information.

Once all of us have reentered the house, they waste no time in telling us that Historia is the rightful heir to the throne. Hange also tells us that she thinks if a mindless titan were to eat someone with abilities like Eren’s that they’d turn back into a human. And when she says there’s a chance the government has their OWN titan, Mikasa loses her shit.

I think Levi might be the only one strong enough to hold her back…when did I even get on board with this “Humanity’s Strongest” bullshit?

And so, the long night gets longer as we head to Reis’s estate. However, that wasn’t going to be a quick or easy trip, especially not without horses or wagons. So, camping in the woods became a necessity.

Living in the woods. Now we’re speaking my language.

We adopted a typical setup - someone kept watch while the others rested. Levi volunteered for the first watch and I volunteered for the second. Funny though, seeing as neither of us sleep very much, so we just sort of did both shifts together.

We sit on high alert, completely silent, for what feels like hours. It wasn’t until I assumed his shift was supposed to technically be ending that either one of us spoke.

“I’m not going to sleep any time soon, if you want I’ll just take your shift and you can get some rest,” Levi spoke softly in my direction.

I respond at the same volume, “If I thought I’d be able to sleep, I’d have done it hours ago. You’re welcome to join me for my shift, the company and the second set of eyes both greatly appreciated, but you certainly don’t have to. If you can sleep, I implore you to.”

Levi settles back in, and I’m assuming that will be the end of our conversation, but I’m surprised when he speaks again. “You don’t sleep much.”

I snort. “Was that a question or an observation?”

“Both.”

“In that case, I could ask you the same thing.”

We stare at each other for a moment. For the first time, I notice that he’s so pale that it looks like he’s almost glowing in the moonlight. His skin is in stark contrast to his dark hair, which if it weren’t for the shine, would disappear completely into the surroundings.

Yo, what the fuck dude? Why are you analyzing this little shit like this?

At my thoughts, I break eye contact and he finally says, “well, in that case, you’d be correct.”

I have to strain to even remember what we were talking about in the first place.

Shit it’s been a long time since I got laid. I can’t believe a little eye contact with a man - with LEVI at that - has got my wires all crossed.

When I finally remember, I simply ask, “Why is that?”

Almost too quickly, he responds, “too much work to be done.”

“How many times have you rehearsed that line?”

I can feel him snap to look at me, but I keep staring into the distance. When he doesn’t respond, I chuckle to myself before following up by saying, “oh come on, you’ve seen nightmare inducing shit in the time I’ve known you. That’s not to mention whatever the hell you’ve seen that’s made your survival instincts so sharp.”

At this, I finally turn to him and I’m surprised by what I see. There’s shock on his face but something else entirely that I can’t quite place. Vulnerability, maybe? Whatever it is, this is the first time he doesn’t wipe his face clear of emotion the second someone looks at him. Realizing he won’t say anything of his own accord, I put my hand on his shoulder and smile empathetically.

I say, “I have ‘em too, if that makes you feel better. I guessed you did because, from experience, no one chooses to get less than four hours of sleep a night.”

He looks away, and almost under his breath mumbles, “it doesn’t.”

I’m confused. “What doesn’t?”

“It doesn’t make me feel better that you have them too. I wouldn’t wish them on anyone, let alone…a comrade.”

His pause strikes me as odd, but I don’t think much about it. Instead I just reply, “yeah, I’m with ya there.”

Silence blankets us once again, but this time it feels different. Any tension, mistrust, or ill-will I previously harbored towards Levi seems to have mostly evaporated. Now, the silence is comfortable.

Again, I’m surprised when Levi speaks. This time, there’s a bit more authority to his voice when he asks, “so, can I anticipate you always being that reckless on missions or was today first-time-nerves?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Reckless? What did I do today that was reckless?”

He huffs. “It would be easier to tell you what wasn’t reckless.”

Now I’m downright indignant. “I still don’t understand. I didn’t get hurt, I didn’t get anyone else hurt. Honestly, I don’t see any instance where I was more reckless than you.”

He side eyes me, but this doesn’t seem to ruffle him as much as I had wanted it to. “Despite me specifically saying you were to stay with me, you intentionally left my side twice: once on the roof and once when we were using gear. Not to mention standing in between the shooter and Jean.”

All I can do is roll my eyes. “None of what you just said was reckless, I merely took some calculated risks. If I hadn’t gotten off that roof, Kenny at the very least would have seen me and then known he was looking for two people instead of just you. My ODM skills aren’t strong enough to out maneuver him. And on that same topic, that’s also the reason I split off from you later. I was already using ODM gear and I knew I had a better chance against anyone that wasn’t Kenny. And I was right. They weren’t able to harm a single hair on my head whereas I took out, like, four or five of them. Plus, if I had followed you, I would have been in your way. It’s hard enough to survive when you’re only looking out for yourself but if you had had to worry about me, too? It’s possible we wouldn’t even be having this conversation now. As for getting in front of Jean…” I stop.

Realistically, I know that it was a bit reckless to do that. But I’m not about to admit that to Levi.

“I knew I could disarm her better than Jean could. Especially given that he had just lost his weapon. Disarming her gave her enough pause that Armin could kill her. I also figured that if necessary, I’d have an easier time killing her than Jean since he had already hesitated once.” I got a lot quieter as I finished talking.

Levi contemplates what I said before saying, “I’ll give you that your reasoning was sound for separating. I still think it was dangerous and would have been safer if you had just stuck with me like I had told you,” I roll my eyes again, which he ignores, “but throwing yourself in front of a gun is still downright reckless. I can’t support that choice even though you may have thought it out.”

The mood is heavy but I just smile and shrug, hoping to lighten the mood by saying, “agree to disagree.”

He scoffs again, but clearly opts to not press the matter further. Perhaps it’s because the sun was rising and with it, everyone would be waking up soon.

Before everyone else wakes up, I decide to return the olive branch that he had extended to me by changing to a lighter topic. “You never told me how the tea was.”

Truth be told, I was expecting a glowing review, even from him. So when he simply shrugs and says, “it was…fine,” I was more than a little offended.

“Fine?! I tasted that tea myself, it was better than fine.” I scoff and turn away from him, mumbling to myself, “and just when I was starting to think you were a halfway decent person.”

For the umpteenth time tonight, he surprises me, this time by chuckling. I snap my head back to look at him and find him already glancing in my direction. His eye contact mixed with his amusement and, dare I say, warmth made me feel…strange. Not bad, not uncomfortable. Just, strange.

Still looking at me, he explains, “it wasn’t bad, I just think your water wasn’t hot enough.”

I smirk at his words and decide to poke a little fun at him, “well, next time I make you tea I’ll make sure it’s so hot that it’ll melt the skin off your mouth. Maybe then you won’t be quite so annoying.”

His eyebrows shoot up, but he’s clearly not angry when he retorts, “Oh really now? I’m the annoying one?”

Before I have a chance to respond our attention is pulled away by the sound of some of the kids starting to stir. Sasha’s sleepy eyes suddenly make me very jealous of the rest she and the others got and if I had known what the coming days would hold, I might have tried harder to get some sleep.

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its-deputy-caleb · 4 years ago

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please write something about soft micah and how he secretly shows affection in camp? btw love your work!!

i've returned from my holiday ya'll 😌😌and so i thought i'd start it off with some soft micah. this ask was so fun and for reference i rewatched one of my favourite films 'Sabrina' (1954) and the soundtrack to that kinda gave me some inspo for this fic so i hope you can enjoy it! it's gender neutral and i just wanted to do something light hearted and fun to return to writing. thank u anon for this ask <3333

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It was celebration in camp, not unlike Sean’s return party however this time the gang was celebrating the success of a large train job which took almost the entire gang to successfully pull off.

Sean was dancing on the table, trying to teach Lenny (YnneL?) how to Irish dance while Uncle was proclaiming to a small crowd how he knew the secrets of being an amazing lover.

Everyone was singing and dancing to either Javier’s playing or Hosea’s old folk songs. There was boxes of liquor in every nook and cranny and it was being drunk faster than it was being poured. It seems that there wasn’t a soul having fun…

There was one exception to that matter however, and that was the broody Micah Bell who saw no intentions in getting involved and instead chose to sharpen his already sharp knife. From where you stood, you could see him mumbling under his breath and having known him for long enough you knew he mumbled when he was moody.

You stood from the crate you were sitting on, dodging a very drunk Bill to make you way over to him. Your hand came to hold his chin, tilting his gaze from the knife to your soft smile.

“Hey there…”

Micah perks up slightly, but you still notice his tired eyes and the slight sheet of sweat over his temple. Behind Micah you see Molly and Dutch as well as (and very surprisingly) John and Abigail slow dancing to the gramophone in Dutch’s tent.

“Common, come and dance with me.”

Your other hand that’s not holding his chin takes his hand in yours but Micah’s always been a stubborn one.

“Now sweetheart, ya know I ain’t one for dancing. Why don’t you go ask a charmer like Arthur to dance with ya.”

You sigh and playfully roll your eyes as Micah puffs his chest out, thinking he’s too tough for dancing.

“Well for one, Arthur ain’t my sweetheart, you are dummy and secondly I don’t want dance with anyone but you.”

Micah flipped the knife between his fingers before holstering it, mumbling about dancing being a pain in his ass but you both knew how much he secretly loved it. He stood, shuffling with his gun belt and begrudgingly took your hand as you lead him to stand between the two couples already dancing.

A soft kiss was placed on your hand before Micah placed a hand around your waist and walk in slow circles with you. Pretty much everyone had stopped to stare at the two of you but you didn’t have a care in the world as Micah clumsily twirled you in his arms. You couldn’t help the giggle that left you and it certainly caused a large blush to form high on his cheeks.

“Darlin’ it seems some folks are staring”

By now your extravagant dancing had slowed to a soft and slow swaying as you just took in each other, although you could tell Micah was still nervous about making a mistake while so many people were staring by the way his eyes were glued to his feet. Your cheek came to press along side his own, feeling his prickly facial hair as you closed your eyes and hummed close to his ear. The hand that was draped over his shoulder came to tangle in his hair and rub slow circles on the base of his neck.

“Hmm… let them stare—“

You drew back from Micah, giving his hand a squeeze as you looked at him with all the love and adoration in the world.

“—Micah I wouldn’t care if the whole world was watching, as long as your eyes are on me I am the happiest person in the world.”

You knew everyone could hear you and you certainly knew everyone was watching but you leaned in and gave a soft but extravagant kiss to Micah’s cheek and then his lips as both your arms came to sit around his neck.

His hands moved to your waist, holding you against him tightly as if you’d ever let him go.

“Ain’t gonna be looking at anyone else beside ya sweetheart— love ya too much.”

“Oh Micah, I love you too”

You spent the better half of an hour dancing slowly with each other and giggling like children at some of the sights around you. John had gotten frustrated at one point, making Abigail storm off but Molly and Dutch were still in their own little world much like you were.

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh as Bill tried to sweet talk Karen in front of Sean after Uncle had encouraged him and how Swanson was pestering Strauss who tried to turn in for a relatively early night.

Eventually, your head came to rest on his chest— not in a way that showed you were tired, but completely content and happy with just slowly moving in circles. His heart was beating at a steady rhythm, although it was still a lot faster than you own but it still soothed you nonetheless as it matched the beat of the song.

You stayed like that for a lot longer than you’d thought. Long after Dutch had turned off the gramophone to sleep and the embers of the fire began to burn out until finally Micah led you back to your tent where the two of you fell asleep.

The next morning you woke with you head tucked under his arm and couldn’t stop the smile that came to your face as you caught a now very embarrassed Micah staring at you.

The peaceful moment didn’t last however as you had to help Ms Grimshaw start on the chores since you were one of the few members who weren’t hungover and still sleeping it off. With that you made you way to Pearson’s wagon but not before you stole a kiss from Micah who was complaining about you leaving.

A few hours past and you were working away at vegetables and meats for the stew. The early morning sun was starting to show along with some of the other gang members including Micah who walked over to you with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“I uhhh… thought you’d want this since ya been working for a while now.”

Smiling and dusting your hands off, you traded a kiss for the coffee— a deal Micah was happy to give.

When you sipped at your coffee and went back to work you noticed how Micah stayed to lean on the table beside you. His mouth opened you say something every five seconds but closed it again, shuffling awkwardly as he stared at you in hopes that you understood what he wanted without him having to say it.

While chopping at carrots and potatoes you held your elbows up and created space for Micah’s arms to fit. He didn’t hesitate to either as he shuffled forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, hands resting over your stomach as his chin rested over your shoulder to watch you work.

“You feeling any better this morning?”

Micah scoffed like he didn’t know what you were talking about, instead choosing to litter kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“I don’t know whatya talking about sweetheart.”

You turned your head to look at him, that fake innocence he tries to play up to avoid emotional topics.

“Oh common now Micah— I know what goes on in that head of yours, I can only hope that dancing cheered you up.”

His forehead came to rest against yours as you noticed his arms instinctively get a little tighter around you.

“Don’t think it was the dancing that made me happy sweetheart— that’s all you.”

His accent was thick with that southern drawl that he has, not in the way that he was being sly, but in a way that you knew he was being raw and open with you no matter how many pet names he threw in there to cover how soft he is with you.

You turned in his arms, wrapping your own around his shoulders as you gave him a large and genuine smile with a hint of your cheekiness.

“Aw you flatter me Mr.Bell and to think you were gonna let Arthur have that dance!”

You make a dramatic gesture with your hand over you mouth to emphasise how sarcastic the statement was. Micah brought you in for a kiss that the two of you couldn’t stop laughing through but it bubbled away as the kiss depended and your tongue met his.

“Arthur ain’t ever getting his hands on ya darling— I’m the only one that’s gonna take ya dancing.”

Micah gave you a playful wink as you pulled him back in for another heated kiss by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt.

“Mr.Bell if you have nothing better than to do than distract those hard at work I suggest you go and make yourself useful!”

Both you and Micah pulled away, both of you shocked as Ms Grimshaw stood in front of you with crossed arms and a very angry look on her face. Behind her was Pearson who was rubbing his neck awkwardly, obviously running off to find Susan who could handle the two of you.

You had to muffle a laugh as Micah mumbled under his breath all too loud about Grimshaw being an ‘old hag who’s just jealous’ before he got up from leaning against the bench to face you properly.

“Don’t you be working too hard now sweetheart—“

Micah pulled you back in by the waist for another kiss which you happily returned. Out of the corner of your eye you see Grimshaw roll her eyes and poor Pearson who looks like he’d rather spontaneously combust then stand there for another moment.

When Micah pulled back he slowly backed way from the wagon, holding his hands up in fake surrender to Ms. Grimshaw.

“Alright alright, I’ll get out of your hair— got a coach coming in anyway, real work.”

You saw Micah saddle up Baylock and ride his way out of town, giving you one final wink and a smirk. You knew he didn’t really have a robbery planned, he always told you about it first and most of the time you went with him. This time he was merely getting out of camp chores and you rolled your eyes at the image of him waiting around at the saloon for hours until Grimshaw finally forgot about it.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of work either! The two of you cause enough trouble without you getting all lovely around camp!”

There Ms.Grimshaw goes with another lecture, you have no doubts that she was watching the two of you last night and couldn’t help the smile that came to your face at the new cherish memory you now have with the man you love. In reality, you couldn’t care who didn’t like the public affection or your entire relationship with Micah.

All you knew is that it made the two of you happy and seeing Micah smile was worth every single lecture and glaring gaze from your fellow members.

And with that you turned back to the vegetables, picking up the knife and getting on with the rest of the day.

“Yes Ms.Grimshaw”

#im back from the dead #with soft micah content #and get ready for more #gosh i have been dying to write this #but i willed myself to take a holiday no matter how bad i was desperate to come back #soft micah hours #micah bell #micah bell x reader #gn!reader #micah bell imagine #rdr2 #rdr2 writing #rdr2 headcanons #red dead redemption 2 #soft rat 🥺🥺🥺

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doodleimprovement · 4 years ago

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Jose, uh original verse? 12, 13, 23

Hat mom Nell 20, 21, 25

Jose

12. Are they hot-headed or even-tempered? What frustrates them the most?

The way that I describe Jose's temper is that he is slow to anger, but once he's angry he's quick to pick a fight. Jose is a kid who has been picked on and mocked most of his life for his disability and how he looks (The scars) so it takes a lot to set him off (Though, if you want to fast-track to a nasty fight you can insult his family. Be warned he has claws when he goes all dragon-y)

13. What special abilities or talents do they possess? Did they develop through training or were they born with them?

Jose's true talent is at the piano. When he was about 4 years old, he got to play around on a family member's piano, and pestered his family for lessons right after. He showed a serious affinity for it, and burned through teachers in the next few years, and started to teach himself. For his 8th birthday (right before he lost his arm, unfortunately), his parents brought him an antique white grand piano. It's his prized possession and he's even learning how to tune it so they don't have to call a tuner to fix it anymore. It took some time after he got his robotic arm, it took a little time to get used to it, but he got right back on the band wagon.

22. What is something others admire about them? Are they aware that people admire them for this?

I'm sure that this is obvious, but others seriously admire him for his high fashion inclinations. Any time he goes out and about in the magic society, he tends to dress his best if only to look good. He is very aware of this (he's been in magic-focused gossip magazines).

Nell

20. How many friends do they have?

... In this particular AU, the only person she talks to is her half-brother, Thor (This is updated canon btw). Shes friendly with others, and she's a decent socialite, but friends-wise? She doesn't really trust anybody well enough. Nell and Arieta moved *because* of issues with people previously considered "friends". Its really on her, but she's pretty okay with being a loner (though her brother who is a hardcore socialite with plenty of friends tries to convince her to go out more)

21. What are they most afraid of? What made them fear this?

They are most afraid of her daughter having a similar experience to her, and she goes out of her way to ensure that this does not happen. (This gets explored in the AU in depth, so I'm not going into detail here)

25. What events changed them as a child?

Oh, that is definitely a spoiler :) Sorry buddy not tellin' that just yet

#ahit oc #ahit au #original characters #ahit nell #hat mom nell au #hat mom nell #jose #antonia writes #antonia answers

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

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Hey there! Can you write Arthur teaching reader how to hunt, shoot a gun like he taught Charlotte? ( I ship them too btw.) First encounter, they obvious meet. Second encounter, reader's excitement takes the best of her after shooting a bottle that she and Arthur accidentally kiss and she quickly apologizes and feels embarrassed that she runs back inside. The third encounter, they both fall in love, can't stop thinking about each other and he asks her to be gf when paying her a visit again.

Ah, I adore Charlotte! I also love writing a scenario very similar to that in which a happy ending is suggested since TB ain’t a thing here!

Read all my works on AO3 here!

Hungry. So hungry. Of course, this has become the standard for you. For the past few days, you’ve been nothing but hungry. You’re at the cabin near Cattail Pond, one of the few cabins your brother could find that was just far enough from a town he couldn’t be found and that wasn’t already occupied. He’s dead now though, leaving you in the mess he created.

You and your brother used to live in San Francisco and had a comfortable life as your parents left enough money for you both before they died. Your brother, the fool that he was, ended up spending almost all both your and his money gambling or on useless ventures. Then he borrowed money, built up an impressive debt, and had no way to pay it back. You had a job making clothes in a factory and he had one working as a fisherman, but they didn’t make enough money to pay off his debts. Eventually he grabbed you and the two of you fled, but the debts seemed to follow him no matter where he went. That was why he picked this cabin: it’s secluded enough from a town that he’d be harder to find.

Things were going okay for the first couple of weeks, but food was running low and neither of you knew the first thing about hunting. Picking herbs was easy enough as there was an abundance in the surrounding areas, but you both needed meat. Your brother tried using his one firearm, an old pistol, to hunt but he wasn’t good. You didn’t even know how to shoot a gun, so you weren’t any help either.

Things took another bad turn when your one horse, the one who brought you both here in a small wagon, got mauled by a grizzly bear. Life became even harder as now neither of you could travel to Valentine to buy goods as it was a solid day’s walk on foot. You didn’t have the money either to go to Valentine and buy another horse as your brother spent a good amount of the little you had on a poker game. You’d screamed and cried at him when you found out, furious that he was still doing the things that wrecked both your lives.

Then one day, your brother stopped being your burden, though you felt horrible for seeing him that way. He’d been trying to hunt a ram from the nearby pond, but he knew so little about guns that when he was fumbling with his pistol, he’d accidentally shot himself in the head. You found him a few hours later and buried him. It was a relief to no longer be tethered to him but his damage was too great to end at his death. His debts now settled on your shoulders, preventing you from returning to your home.

That’s why you’re still here at this tiny cabin with almost nothing to eat except a few herbs, wild vegetables and roots. You want to learn how to use your brother’s gun, but you’re scared you’ll make his mistake and shoot yourself. Still, the need for food is starting to push out and you’re becoming more tempted to at least try.

You’re sitting on the porch of your cabin as the sun’s getting lower in the sky. You’ve never felt so desperate and alone. Not only are you days from starving, you haven’t had contact with another person since your brother died. What you wouldn’t give to see someone else’s face, say something as simple as hello.

Your stomach rumbles again, reminding you of its need. Your storage of edible plants is getting low; you’ll need to go gathering again. This has its own challenges, as you aren’t entirely sure what’s around that’s safe to eat. You’ve only picked the food you recognize, like the wild carrots, oregano, mint and raspberries. You go up to the trail and head over to the pond, looking for what food you can find.

Your presence over the past few weeks has another set back: most of the wild plants you can pick haven’t been able to regrow quickly enough to sustain you and you’re too nervous to venture into new places to look. This is obviously bear territory and you can’t be sure if there’s other predators, such as wolves or cougars. The pond itself can be frightening enough since that’s where your horse was mauled.

As the pond comes into view, you curse your brother for the fourth time today. He was a fisherman in the city, but being the idiot he was, he neglected to grab his fishing gear when he’d grabbed you and fled. You knew how to fish, you could easily have gotten meat from this pond. You’ve seen the fish basking in the shallows, and some are a decent size. Yet you’ve no way to get them.

You bend down on the shore of the pond, pulling a tiny carrot from the ground. It’s the last one in this area, another blow. You see purple flowers around that seem to be attached to some kind of root, but you’ve no idea if they’re safe to eat or not. You go a little further away from the pond, looking for anything to eat.

You sit down on a rock after a short while, feeling desperate and hungry. Perhaps it’s time for you to take that day’s walk to Valentine, get a job there. You know the only jobs they offer women are saloon girls or hotel workers. Still, you’d be able to at least get a decent meal. The only thing stopping you is where you’ll shelter yourself when not working. It’ll take some time to afford a horse, but maybe sleeping on the street would be the best option until you could afford one. However, being in a town has its risks: the debt collectors could very well find you there. That was why your brother chose this cabin, after all.

Just as you’re contemplating the weight of your options, you hear footsteps. You turn and see a man, standing not too far away. He has a bow and arrow in his hand, the arrow pointed at the ground.

“Hello, ma’am,” he says.

You shoot up to your feet. You can’t tell if he’s real or not. Maybe you’re hallucinating him, your hunger making you go crazy, but you don’t care. You’re so relieved to see another person finally.

“Sir!” you say.

He tilts his head a bit. It’s then you realize you’re filthy, as you haven’t had the energy to heat enough water to bathe in during the last couple of days.

“You a’right?” he asks.

You smile, but it falters. “Well… since you ask, no not really.” You look away, feeling a sudden urge to cry. You’ve never felt so weak and pathetic and he’s a tall, broad man. Guessing from his stance, he has some experience hunting. You feel even more foolish in the realization that you’ve no business living in the wilderness like this when you don’t know the first thing about keeping yourself alive.

“You mind me askin’ what happened to ya?” he asks as a tear slides down your cheek.

You start wringing your hands and tell him a brief version of your story, about your damn brother who started your problems.

“We didn’t know the first thing about hunting when he decided to live here,” you say. “He tried using his gun to hunt and ended up shooting himself. I buried him about a week ago.”

“Ah, I’m real sorry, ma’am,” the man says.

You nod in thanks. You want nothing more than to ask him for his help but you’re not sure how to do it. You’ve already noticed how handsome he is and it was obvious when you first saw him he was tracking something. You’ve already delayed him enough, he’s probably lost the trail. You sit down on the rock again, not wanting to keep him further.

He takes a small step closer to you. “Ma’am, is there anywhere I could take you? A train maybe?”

“No, I… I can’t afford a ticket. Besides, my… my brother had a lot of debt and it’s fallen on me now to repay it. I’m afraid they’ll find me in town and he didn’t leave enough money for me to repay it. I can’t even afford a sick, old mule.”

You turn away from him again, feeling even more pathetic. You suddenly wish this man would just leave. You can just feel his judging eyes on your back.

“You, uh, you have anything to eat out here?” he asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You look up at him. “Nothing. Neither of us knew the first thing about hunting, hell we barely knew enough about foraging to keep us going. In fact, not enough as it turns out. I hardly know what’s around me that’s safe to eat.”

He sighs and gets a bit closer. “Well you ain’t gonna last much longer out here like this. Come on.” You look up at him again, unaware of the pleading look in your eyes. “I’ll show ya how to hunt somethin’, give you a few days’s food anyways.”

You stand up, brushing your hands off on your jeans. “O-okay. Like I said though, I don’t know the first thing.”

“We’ll start with somethin’ small. Rabbit or a turkey. I’ll shoot, you skin, sound fair?”

“But I don’t even have a knife.”

“You won’t need one. I’ll help ya. Now let’s find somethin’.”

He looks around, but you’re sure he’s seeing a lot more than you are. He beckons you to follow him down a little ways from the pond and you do so, trying to keep your footing quiet.

“Ah, there’s one,” he whispers, stopping suddenly.

“There’s what? I don’t see anything.”

“Focus. You see there by that bush?” he points straight ahead.

You narrow your eyes a bit and then something small moves beside it. A rabbit’s nibbling on a long blade of grass. The man takes his bow and an arrow from his back. He notches it, pulls the string and then, after a few seconds, lets go. The rabbit lets out a small squeak, the arrow going through its body.

“Good shot!” you say, despite yourself. He smiles at you, making your heart skip a beat and then leads you over to it.

“A’right, go ahead and skin it.”

“But I… I mean, how do I do it?”

The man tells you how to hold the rabbit and to just pull the flesh from the body. You pick up the rabbit by the back legs and start to yank on the skin, but it holds firm.

“Pull hard,” the man says.

You readjust your grip and then yank again. Still the skin doesn’t move from the body. You can feel the man smiling, but you’re determined not to have him show you how to do this. You yank as hard as you can and finally the flesh tears and pulls away from the body.

“It worked!” you say.

The man chuckles. “Well there ya go. I’m, uh, guessin’ you know how to cook it?”

You smile and nod. “Yes, I do actually know how to do that. Thank you so much for catching this.”

You stuff the skin into your satchel and then start carrying the carcass to your cabin. You expect the man will just wish you luck and go back to tracking his original target. Instead he accompanies you to your cabin.

“Well, this should keep you fed a few days at least,” he says.

“Yes, definitely,” you say. “I just hope I can make it afterwards.”

“I’d recommend you learn how to use your brother’s gun.”

“Yes, I think that’s really my only option at this point. Whether or not I’ll end up being as stupid as my brother is yet to be seen.”

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Just don’t ever point the barrel at yourself and you’ll be okay.”

You chuckle, despite yourself. When you get to the porch, you turn to the man. “Thank you, sir. You know, you’re the first person who’s done anything good for me since I left the city. My brother wasn’t just an idiot, he was demeaning and… just not a nice man. You’ve already done more for me than he’s done in the past five years.”

The man smiles. “I’m just glad to be of service, ma’am. Here, why don’t ya take this? You probably need this more than I will.”

He hands you a book about North American plants. Flipping through it, you can see it’s highly illustrated and each description comes with a section on if the plant’s edible.

“Are you sure?” you ask, not daring to hope.

“Of course. I know most plants I come across already, I don’t need that. It’ll just be takin’ up space for me. You, though, can actually put it to good use.”

You smile. “Sir, I can’t repay your kindness.”

“Just get some rest and a good meal. You have a good evenin’, ma’am.” He tips his hat and heads back up the way you’d come down. You watch him, smiling. For the first time since you came to this place, you feel a bubble of hope in your chest.

************************

Three days have gone by since the man undeniably saved your life. After you chopped up the rabbit he’d caught and cooked up some, you’d gone to sleep with a satisfied stomach for the first time in days. You’d spent the next two days looking through the book he’d given you and foraging some of the plants you’ve seen around the pond and just didn’t know was safe to eat. The purple flowers turn out to be Burdock root.

You came back last night with your satchel on the brink of overflowing with plants and ended up going to sleep last night with a full stomach. You haven’t tried shooting your brother’s pistol yet, still a bit nervous about it, but you’ll have to try today since the rabbit is nearly gone. You inspect the gun and study how it works. You arrange a variety of bottles near the pond on a few different boulders to shoot at.

You aim at the bottles and for the next hour try to shoot, with no success. The gun has a fierce kickback, which you just can’t get used to. You hold your breath every time you shoot too, believing it’ll help you aim better.

At the end of the hour, you shoot again but miss yet again. “Damn it!” you say.

“Glad to see you’re at least not pointing it at your face,” you hear a familiar voice. You turn and see the man.

“Yes, I’ve at least figured out that much,” you say, smiling. “Now figuring out how to actually hit something with it is a different matter.”

He chuckles and pulls out his revolver. “Here, I’ll show ya a few things.” He aims the gun and shoots it, striking a bottle. You try not to admire his form, the shape of his chest and sides. God, you need to see more people. The first man you see and you’re already getting a crush. You blush and smile when he smirks at you.

“How did you do that?”

“Take a stance like mine and I’ll help ya.” You copy his pose and he walks up behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders. You try to ignore how big and warm they are. “Okay, loosen your upper arm. You’re too tense. Take in a breath. Aim. Let out your breath and fire.”

You try ignoring how close he is and how good his hands feel on your shoulder, focus on what he’s saying. You do as he says and shoot. A part of the boulder beneath the bottle you’d been aiming for explodes in a small cloud of dust, leaving behind a sizable dent.

“That’s the closest I’ve gotten since I started!” you exclaim.

He chuckles and pats your shoulder. “Good work. My turn.”

He doesn’t take a step back and you get the feeling he likes the closeness just as much as much as you do. He aims his revolver again and you take the opportunity to look back at him and study his face. He’s goddamn handsome, his neck thick and gleaming from the slight amount of sweat. He pulls the hammer and then shoots, another bottle exploding.

“Showoff,” you say.

He chuckles. “Take your turn now. Focus on the exhale.”

You take your stance again and breathe out slowly. You shoot and the bottle explodes.

“I hit it!” you say excitedly. “I hit it!” You turn and grin at him. “Did you see that? I hit it!”

He laughs and pats your arm. “That ya did. You want to go some more or are ya done?”

Your wrist is starting to cramp up from the kickback. “Maybe I’ll just try and catch something, then I’ll be done. Could… I mean, would you have the time to help me if I need it?”

He nods. “Of course. You take the lead though.”

You grin and head off away from the pond, looking for any sign of movement. It doesn’t take long before you find a small group of wild turkeys picking through the grass. The man hunkers down right behind you; he’s so close you can almost feel his breath on the back of your neck. You ignore the goosebumps and aim your pistol. You focus on your breathing, relax your arm and then shoot. The bullet strikes the turkey’s neck and it falls without making a sound, already dead.

“I hit it!” you shoot up, making the man laugh again. “I hit the turkey!”

The man laughs and pats your shoulder. “Sure.”

You turn and smile at him. “This is all in thanks to you! I never would’ve gotten this far without your help.”

“Oh I’m sure you would’ve figured it out on your own.”

“No,” you say softly. “I wouldn’t have. Listen, I’d love to repay you in some way. Would you at least join me for a meal? I still have some of that rabbit.”

He smiles and takes your offer. You lead him to your cabin with the turkey carcass slung over your shoulder, aware that he’s not even three feet from you.

You show him into your cabin, which consists of nothing more than a large room with your bed in the corner. When your brother was alive, you were forced to sleep on the floor in a bedroll since your brother claimed he needed a soft bed to help alleviate the stress. When he died, you cleaned it and took over it yourself.

You tell the man to have a seat and he takes it as you dish out the last of the rabbit, having cooked it this morning. You also scoop out some boiled roots and raspberries.

“Help yourself,” you say. “You helped me create this meal anyways.”

You sit down across from him with your own plate. The man smiles and takes a bite. “Hmm, how’d you season this?”

“I found some thyme and oregano weeks ago, been drying it ever since. I may not be skilled in catching my own food, but my mother taught me how to make it taste good.”

The man grins. “Well, this is certainly some of the best I’ve had in awhile.”

You blush. “I’m so sorry, sir. I don’t even know your name. You’ve helped me so much, I’d love to put a name to your face.”

“Arthur. Arthur Morgan. And may I ask yours?”

You tell him. Over the meal, you start talking more and more about your lives, telling him more details about your brother. You talk about your life of luxury before your parents died and your brother squandered your inheritances.

“No offense, but that life sounds awful,” he says at the end of your story. “I could never handle livin’ in a city like that. Seems… meaningless.”

“Oh it was,” you say. “Truly meaningless and empty. In the city, you simply exist whereas out here, you have to earn your survival.”

Arthur grins at you across the table. He really is a handsome and sweet man. You blush a bit and return to your food. “So tell me, Mr. Morgan, about your life. You certainly look like a man who's been to many places.”

He chuckles a bit. “Well, that I have. But if you’re thinkin’ that I’m just a hunter or an adventurer, you’d be wrong. I’m…” he hesitates for a few seconds and you can tell he’s contemplating. You wait patiently. “I’m an outlaw.”

“An outlaw?” you repeat, your voice showing no sign of accusation nor do you feel any. He’s already proven to possess a kind heart and he likely just made some mistakes along the way. “Well that certainly sounds exciting. Much more so than my empty existence.”

“Awe, ma’am, I’ll think you’ll find you’re worth much more than you think.”

You blush again. Arthur clears his throat and looks at his empty plate, then he glances out the window to where the sky’s growing dark. “Well thank ya for the meal, ma’am, but I better head out. Got some things I need to take care of before the day’s done.”

“Of course, and please call me Y/N.”

He grins and stands up. You follow him out to the porch. He turns around to thank you and you respond by reaching up on your toes to kiss his cheek. Little did you know he bent down at the same time to kiss yours and your lips accidentally touch. He shoots away from you as though he’d been electrocuted.

“Oh my God, Mr. Morgan, I am so sorry! That was my fault!”

“No it was mine,” he says quickly, though he hides his eyes beneath his hat. It’s clear he’s trying to be kind when he must be disgusted.

“Well, thank you again. For everything. And sorry for… that. I certainly didn’t mean… I mean, you… you’re a good man for helping me… well, I guess you gotta go, so I’ll say good night. Good night!”

Your face burning, you dash back inside and close the door gently. You peak out the window and see him turning away and going down to his horse. You see his arm bend and it looks as though he’s rubbing his lips. You can’t say you blame him, he’s probably beyond just disappointed and disgusted. You don’t know that he’s brushing his lips, recalling the feeling of yours on them just as you’re doing the same.

***********************

It’s been almost a week since the accidental kiss and you’ve seen and heard nothing from Arthur. You’re not surprised, he’s obviously not wanting to see you again, probably afraid you might kiss him again. Not that you would, of course. Sure, he’s handsome and you find yourself thinking about him more often than not, especially how his lips felt against yours, but you certainly wouldn’t try to kiss him if he decided to visit.

You sit on your porch, stitching together two rabbit pelts. One was from the time Arthur shot the first one and the other is from yesterday when you’d caught a second one. You’ve been practicing with the pistol everyday just like Arthur showed you and you’ve improved significantly. You spend a solid three hours everyday on the porch just in case Arthur shows up again, though you’re doubtful. Honestly, if you were him, you wouldn’t come calling again either.

You’re just about to call it a day and grab your gear in order to go foraging again as the sun reaches the middle of the sky. You set down the pelts and stand up but then you hear something. You look over and see Arthur approaching, a slight pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Arthur!” you say. You smile and clasp your hands.

“Hello, Y/N. Just… thought I’d come see how you’re managing.”

You blush and look down. “Oh I’m getting by just fine, thanks to you. You know, you’re… you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in a long time.”

He smiles and walks up the two steps to the porch. He’s much closer than you would’ve thought he’d be, considered what happened last time. You take a step back, not wanting to make him feel pressured.

“Well, Y/N, it’s been a real plessure knowin’ ya. I… I wanted to ask ya somethin’. Maybe we can call it a repayment.” He blushes again and looks down, hiding his eyes again.

“Yes, Mr. Morgan? What is it?”

He sighs and rubs his neck. “Perhaps could we… try that kiss again? Only properly this time. I won’t move this time.”

You smile and walk up to him. You reach up to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turns his head just before you do and your lips meet his again. You don’t pull away and neither does he. You open your mouth a little and he does too, then you feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer. One of your arms goes behind him and settles on his back while you press the other hand to his neck, your thumb tracing his jaw. He deepens the kiss, his hot breath washing over your face. You can taste the subtle hint of coffee and tobacco with a minty end.

Arthur pulls away slightly, his face flushed. “Sorry, hope you don’t think I was takin’ advantage, he says in a deep, rough voice.

“Trust me, Mr. Morgan, that was the last thing I was thinking.”

He smiles. “Well in that case, may I ask a favor? Can you stop callin’ me Mr. Morgan and could I call ya… my girl maybe?”

“Arthur, are you asking to date me?” you grin.

He huffs a soft laugh. “Guess I am.”

You respond by kissing him again. He sighs into it and you can feel him smiling. Finally your life has taken an interesting turn. For so long, you’ve merely lived each day with feeling no excitement, no desire to satisfy your curiosities. Now a new door seems to be opening up and Arthur was the one who showed you it was even there. You wonder, as you stand there and kiss him, what other doors he’ll help you open.

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #awkward asks

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alarawriting · 5 years ago

Text

Inktober 2020 #21: Sleep

Based on the prompt from @writing-prompt-s, “The worst thing a wizard can do is sleep-talk.”

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Words spoken by a person without the power thrumming through their veins were just words. Even the Words of Change, the secret language the universe was built in, meant nothing to the people without the power. But for the people who had it, words needed to be guarded carefully. “Umhaha”, for instance, unraveled thread. An easy mistake to make; almost every young wizard had a story about accidentally rendering themselves and everyone in the room with them naked, just by laughing a certain way after saying the word “Um.”

“Kefzhizoss” should have been a word that no one would ever say unless they meant to say it.

The young man was crumpled up as small as a human could make himself, on the bench in the police wagon. No one had confiscated the amulet of protection from his neck; like most such amulets, it wouldn’t come off while he was under emotional stress, pain or fear. But he was under a silencing charm, and the amulet didn’t protect him from being silenced.

The cleric was arguing with the detective on the scene. “It’s obvious he didn’t mean to do this,” he said, waving his hand at the devastation of what had been the young man’s home, with his parents and siblings. The broken remains of the wards that had contained the word, made sure the destruction spread no farther than their property, would have stopped the word if it hadn’t been spoken within their house, and there were other fragmentary charms present. One to prevent fire. One that would probably have protected books from water damage. There was one, still intact, that purified air as it went into the lungs of birds.

There were no birds in the wreckage, or bird cages. Neither were there human corpses, or any human beds, except for the one the young man had laid in. The destruction had been too thorough.

“Look, Elimiss, maybe I agree with you. Could be accidental sleeptalking. But four people are dead, and the damage was clearly done by the Devastating Word, and the only survivor’s a wizard. You see why I can’t just let him go, right?”

Tears ran down the young man’s cheeks, but there was nothing physically wrong with him. Either he was tremendously talented for one so young, or one or both of his parents had been very skilled wizards, to have created an amulet that had perfectly protected him and the bed he had been found on from the Devastating Word. It didn’t matter anymore.

“He’s traumatized! He needs a temple, not to be held indefinitely under a silencing charm—”

“Oh, for the love of all your gods, the kid can still read and write. But I can’t let a man who killed his entire family just traipse off to a temple to have his trauma healed. Did it occur to you that maybe a guy who killed his parents and brother and sister maybe deserves to have some trauma?”

“It was obviously an accident! He was wearing pajama pants, for the love of Merenethe Who Heals All Wounds! What kind of devious, evil killer wears pajama pants and lays down in bed before blasting his entire home to ruin?”

“The kind who knows that people like you will assume it was an accident from that,” the detective said sharply. She was irritated that the cleric had felt the need to provide his god’s entire name, like he was offended that she’d invoked all his gods instead of his specific patron. “He needs to be interrogated, and we can’t let him speak until he’s told us his story.”

The man raised a tear-streaked face, brought up his cuffed hands, and with just one of them, signed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again. Both hands, he might have been trying a sigil, though the detective was an experienced enough wizard herself to catch that before it accomplished anything, if he’d tried it. One hand, it was obviously sign, and she relaxed. Only about half of all wizards knew some kind of sign language, which was stupid given the control wizards needed to keep on their speech. Sigils were much more complicated and couldn’t be done accidentally.

“Babababawa” brought a light, misting rain… into a building, if that’s where the wizard said it. It was a hazard of raising wizard babies, that some of them came into their power so early they couldn’t really talk yet, and their baby babble could very easily accidentally land on that one. “Sh’shoot,” an expression thaumnulls might say any time if they started to say “shit”, thought better of it, and instead said “shoot” as a full word without just following from the original sh – more than one wizard teenager had been found that way, growing up among thaumnulls, not knowing what they shouldn’t say. It made existing electrical current surge in power, and could very well blow every circuit in a house, or start a fire. “Kolonel” was a big problem with people learning the language as adults, who didn’t know how to not pronounce the word “colonel”. The only thing it did was create an impenetrable darkness that flowed out to the nearest boundary, if indoors, and a mile or two outdoors, until a wizard said “Kohanoel” to turn it off and restore the light… but people who’d said it by accident and hadn’t known they were wizards didn’t know how to turn it off.

The Devastating Word, however – the detective, being a wizard, did not even think the syllables to herself – was commonly thought to be impossible to say by accident. The “zh” sound wasn’t even common in this language; most native speakers around here wouldn’t even make that sound in their sleep. And here was Elimiss, the mandated social worker who worked with the cops to de-escalate situations and help folks with mental illnesses, insisting that obviously the man – boy, really, he probably wasn’t even out of college – had said it in his sleep, because that was what the plainly traumatized boy had told the cops when they’d arrived. Because a perp couldn’t possibly carefully plan out the excuse he’d use to get treated like a trauma victim and charged only with negligent manslaughter, maybe even go free, after he’d murdered his family. Right.

“Sanavah. I know we have to get his full story from him. But do we really need to treat him as if he’s a dangerous killer?”

Detective Sanavah ofWinterfall looked over at the destroyed house, and then back at the cleric, an expression of disbelief on her face.

Cleric Elimiss Elidanson, adept of Merenethe, sighed deeply. “Yes. I know he killed his family. But if it was an accident—”

“How does anyone say that word accidentally?” Sanavah exploded. “It’s just… not a thing you’d say!”

The boy signed. “We were studying it today. The Dire Words. I’m in magic school.”

Okay, so he was out of college. Magic school, like law school and medical school, was a graduate school; you needed at least a two-year degree to get in. “Why the hell would you be studying the Dire Words?” Sanavah snapped. “How fucking irresponsible would your teachers have to be—”

“Be professional, Sanavah,” Elimiss advised, and she wanted to punch him.

“It’s advanced work. Magical theory. We have to take the Words apart to determine why they work and have so much power,” he signed. “K-E-F-Z-H-I-Z-O-S-S was fascinating, I was working on an analysis all day… but I would never say it intentionally! I was calling it the Kef word.” He signed the individual letters, but ended it with the sign that indicated he was replicating a pronunciation, not a spelling.

Oh. Well. Maybe that changed things. Maybe not; it might still be a really good story. “You know we’ll follow up with your school, right?”

He nodded. “I don’t care what you do to me,” he signed. “Any kind of punishment. I deserve it. I killed Mom and Dad and Lifah and Raoun. But I want the world to know, it was an accident! I loved them! I’d never have said the Kef word in my own house, not without containing it first!”

“This the first time you’ve sleep-talked?”

“No… Mom said I’ve been doing it since I was a baby. Raoun insisted I had to move out and get my own room when I was eight because I was keeping him up at night. My parents turned my dad’s study into my bedroom.” He picked up the amulet. “Mom gave this to me so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt myself by sleep-talking, but I guess she never thought… I mean, I never thought…”

“I’m going to charge his teacher with negligence contributing,” Sanavah said tiredly. “Gonna charge you, too, kid. At least. I’d charge your mother, too, but she’s dead.”

The boy began to cry again, sobbing soundlessly into his hands.

“You believe me now?” Elimiss said. “I’ve had a feeling from Merenethe all this time that this boy isn’t a killer. Not intentionally.”

“That’s great. Very nice of Merenethe. I’m sure ‘a cleric of Merenethe had a feeling’ will be great evidence in court. He’s still coming down to the station.” She spoke to her forensics team. “You about ready to wrap up?”

“Yeah, pretty cut and dried. I think we’ve found all the evidence of standing charms we’re going to, and the Devastating Word would ruin any evidence of any other active spells,” Sofrani, the head forensic wizard, said. “We can head on back now if you want.”

“BTW, got a name,” the analyst, Charron, said. “Bylan Evertide.”

“That is not a real last name.”

“It absolutely is. Got it out of the city database. There’s a whole Evertide clan in and around the city here.”

“It’s going to be all right, Bylan,” Elimiss said. “The police and court, I mean. If you’re telling the truth, we’ll be able to get confirmation from an oneiromancer or a cleric of Morosma. We’ll clear you of wrongdoing.”

“Aside from the negligence and sheer stupidity of a guy who talks in his sleep learning Dire Words and then not putting a silencing charm on himself when he goes to sleep,” Sanavah said. “Elimiss, don’t make promises to the kid that you can’t make good on.”

“I know it’s my fault,” the boy signed. “Charge me with whatever you want. I won’t fight it.”

“Not how it works,” Sanavah said. “You’ll get a public defender, and if you want to plead guilty, you’ll have to convince her that you actually are before she’ll let you plead it.” She looked over at Elimiss. “You took your own pheasant over here, or did you get a taxi?”

“Taxi,” Elimiss said. “I don’t have a place to take care of a pheasant, I live in an apartment.”

“Take Elimiss back with you,” she instructed the driver of the enclosed auto-wagon. “I don’t think the chief’ll be thrilled if he expenses another taxi.”

“Will do,” the wagon driver said, and spoke a word under his breath, that made the magical engine that drove the cart fire to life. Elimiss got in the wagon, and the forensics team either got on their own pheasants, or into pheasant-drawn carriages, because no one got rich enough on a cop salary to ride around in an auto-carriage.

As she saddled up her own pheasant, who squawked in mild irritation because the beast had been enjoying plucking seed pods off the nearby mimosa tree and snacking on them, she gazed over at what had been the Evertide home. “Hell of a thing,” she murmured. “Come on, Basil, let’s get back to the station.”

Basilica, a middle-aged hen pheasant who was known for her reliability and love of sunflower seeds, snorted, flapped her wings, and took off. Running pheasants – named that because they were actually faster on the ground than in the air – had native magic that allowed their wings to work despite their enormous size, and they could easily bear a human or two through the air. A running pheasant could cross the distance back to the station fast enough, if it was through open or forested territory, but being on the ground, in traffic, mildly upset most of them and absolutely freaked Basilica out, so Sanavah had to fly back to the station every time.

#inktober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #writing-prompt-s

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mysteryartisticwriter · 5 years ago

Text

I Tried // Adam Milligan X Reader

A/N: I remember seeing Jake Abel in ‘Percy Jackson and the Lightning Theif’ and loving him. Then when I found out he was in Supernatural about a few years ago I flipped bro. He didn’t deserve all those years stuck in the cage, I feel so bad for him :(( bUT NOW HE’S BACKKK

TAKES PLACE DURING 15x08 (SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED IT YET)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

Requested: No

Warnings: Mild angst, some talk about death, cursing

Not my gif!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

Five years ago...

You sat at your computer in the bunker’s library. The library was dark, the only light being emitted from your screen. It was almost 6am and you weren’t getting anywhere with your research. You angrily closed a tab in your computer and rubbed your face, fighting sleep.

You took a deep breath and went back to your research. Just then, the lights of the library turned on, making you jump. You looked over to one of the entrances and saw both Winchester brothers standing in the doorway.

“(Y/n)?” Sam asked. “What are you doing up so early?”

You stammered, trying to look for an excuse or right words to say.

“I-I was looking for a case. We haven’t had one in at least a week so I-I figured I would do you guys a favor and search for one.”

Dean sighed, knowing you were lying.

“Hey,” The elder brother pulled up a chair next to yours. “What’s going on?”

“I already told you. I’m searching for a case-” You lied.

“Tell us the truth.” Sam pressured.

You sighed in defeat and pushed your laptop over to the men. They were able to see the many tabs you had pulled up about different types of spells for something.

“Do you remember what day it is?” You asked them.

Dean suddenly looked at you in panic. “Oh god, it’s not your birthday, is it? I could have sworn it wasn’t for a couple more months-”

“No, Dean. It’s not my birthday.” You interrupted him.

Sam, who was still looking through the tabs on your computers, looked back to you.

“Then what day is it?”

You gulped, forcing any upcoming tears or sobs that were trying to make its way out.

“It’s May 13th, the day that Adam was thrown into the pit with Michael.” You told them.

A harsh silence echoed throughtout the whole bunker. The three of you stared at each other while you waited for an answer from the two brothers. Sam could see memories flashing in his mind about the day that he threw himself, Lucifer, Michael and Adam into the pit. Guilt wallowed inside of him, remembering that he and Dean were forced to leave their half-brother in the cage.

They never really tried to get him back, thinking that they couldn’t bring him back or save him at all. It’s been five years now, and not a day didn’t go by when you didn’t think of the boy.

You had only known each other for a couple days before he said yes to the archangel. He was a sweet and funny guy even if he did have that Winchester attitude, the two of you got along very nicely since you were just a couple years younger than him. You weren’t together, but flirtations were exchanged, it was definitely one weird relationship.

When you were told by the brothers that they couldn’t save Adam too, you were crushed. It was strange, you barely knew Adam but your heart still ached knowing that you couldn’t save him.

A small tear slid down your cheek until you wiped it away as fast as you could, pretending as if nothing happened. You grabbed your laptop back from Sam and went through a couple tabs.

“It’s been five years now, and we haven’t brought him back yet. I’ve been up for the past few nights trying to search for another way to bring him back...”

“(Y/n)...”

“I know that I’m this close to finding the solution to getting him out of the cage, I swear it. I just need more time to find it and-”

“(Y/n)!” Dean called out to you, causing you to turn your head to him.

Dean had a guilty and bleak expression on his face, Sam looking at the floor, away from you.

“We can’t bring him back, you know that.” His words sympathic.

You shook your head. “No, no we found a way to bring Sammy back, didn’t we? If we brought Sam back then we can find another way to get Adam.”

“(Y/n), we were lucky to raise Sam out of Hell. You heard Cas, one person out and that’s it.” Dean insisted.

“We got Sam out! We can get Adam back out too! We have to get him out of there, he’s been there for five years now and...” You choked out, shielding your tears from the boys with your hands.

Sobs came from you and the two men slowly, but surely, wrapped their arms around you in a hug to comfort you. Tears cascaded down the two brother’s cheeks as well, a heavy pit in their stomachs from the constant guilt.

“He’s never coming back, is he, guys?” You whispered in between sobs.

Sam and Dean took glances between each other, sadly.

“No. No, he isn’t, sweetheart.” Sam admitted.

You felt like a failure. You were the one who was supposed to keep Adam away so he couldn’t say yes and now he was stuck in the cage for the rest of his life. He’d be totured for eternity all because you couldn’t save him.

The only sounds in the bunker were your cries.

Present time...

Somewhere inside a small diner, Jaci’s Red Wagon, a man sat at a booth waiting for his food. A waitree brought him his first order, a cheeseburger with fries. She sets the food onto the table and left the man to eat.

The man, Adam, grabbed his food and took a large bite into the burger, hungrily. He moaned in satifaction at the taste and happily chewed on his meal.

“You know that stuff will kill you, right?”

“Worth it.” He replied to the voice. “Michael, I haven’t seen a burger in 10 years.”

A hand from the other side of the booth grabbed a french fry from his plate and inspected it. Michael, inside of Adam’s mind, chuckled a bit and set the fry back on the plate.

“Go for it, kid.”

“You know, I know I don't need to eat. It just tastes so damn good.” Adam said as he picked up a fry and ate it.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t know much about any of this. You'll be my guide.” Michael looked around the diner to all of the people eating and talking to people.

Adam saw the same waitress come back with a pan of pepperoni pizza, pushing his burger plate aside to make room for the pizza. The lady gently set the food onto the table in front of Adam, whose breath hitched at the sight of the delicious food.

He quickly thanked her and she responded with a smile and nod. Once she walked away, the blonde boy sniffed the amazing aroma of pizza and started to shake on some parmesan cheese and pepper.

“So, what about you? You gonna go back to heaven?” He asked the archangel.

The angel inside Adam’s head pursed his lips.

“I don't know. My brothers are dead. My father never returned. In so many ways, I'm alone.” He answered.

Adam thought about his own family. His mother and father were dead, and his half-brothers that didn’t even care about him.

“Yeah. Same here. It’s not like I have family waiting to see me.”

“You have the Winchesters, your brothers.” Michael added, a little confused on why he didn’t think of them first. “I met them once, and they let me rot in Hell.” Adam corrected him, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“What about the girl? (Y/n) (L/n)?” The angel pondered.

Adam remembered the kind (h/c) hair colored girl who was a close family friend to the brothers. She was about his age, maybe a couple or few years younger, but he remembers liking her a lot. (Y/n) always made sure he was comfortable and occupied, and man did he feel guilty about disobeying her to say yes to the archangel inside him now.

“I...I don’t even know if she’s still them. Most likely she is since she was friends with them first but,” Adam thought carefully about his next words. “I doubt she even remembers me anymore. It’s been 10 years, anyway.”

Adam and Michael looked at each other knowingly. Both having similiar situations and because they had been left in the cage for so long, the two had become almost like friends. They’d created a sort of relationship within each other, neither completely taking over the other.

“Family.” Michael scoffed.

“Family sucks.”

A little while later after finishing all his meals and then ordering some cake for desert, Adam laid back in the comfy booth, looking around at all the people. He glanced over to some of the waitresses working, picking up plates and cleaning tables for their job.

“Maybe I should pick up some kinda little job.” He blurted out.

“A little job?” Michael asked, a little confused.

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean, these are the same clothes we went to hell in. We're gonna have expenses, right? And whatever change I had, I spent on food, so, it's not like I can go back to college,” Adam chuckled. “Not with an archangel inside of me.”

The man hadn’t noticed someone sneaking up behind him, and a hand rested onto his shoulder. Adam looked up to the person and saw a blonde haired woman smiling down at them.

“Hello, Michael.”

Adam’s eyes glowed a bright blue, signifying that he was no longer at the wheel, but instead the angel.

“Lilith.” He growled.

The woman let go of his shoulder and walked over to the other side of the booth.

“You’re dead.”

“Was. Now,” Lilith turned to him and swung her hips. “I’m back, baby.”

She sat down at the other seat, her face turning serious. “And I’ve been sent to fetch you.”

“I'm not accustomed to being fetched. Who sent you?” Michael questioned, his voice low.

“You have to ask? Your daddy. God. Yeah, he'd like a word.” Lilith answered him, Michael’s expression turning to mild shock and confusion.

“You're lying.”

“Really not.” The demon took a finger full of cake frosting into her mouth.

“Then why would he send you, a demon, a speck of infernal bile?” He spat at her.

Lilith’s face turned mockingly sad and offended. “One, ouch. Two, maybe because we worked together before. Remember? Setting off the Apocalypse?”

“To try and bring God back.” Michael corrected her.

“Right. Didn't work then, but then he came back on his own. So, win?”

Michael’s face grew closer to her but remained emotionless.

“If that's true if...he can come talk to me himself.”

The female demon just rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. Except, I'm not supposed to leave without you.” Lilith told him, staring into his eyes.

“Get out.” He threatened, voice dripping with venom.

“Michael,” Lilith reached over and grabbed his wrist firmly. “I can’t fail him.”

Michael stared hard at the hand at his wrist then turned to face Lilith, eyes glowing blue once more. The demon started to glow a bright yellow and bright light, enveloping the whole diner.

Once it had disappeared, all that was left in Lilith’s place was a piece of black clothing. Michael carefully looked around the resturaunt to see everyone staring at him in awe. People started to whisper about what had just happened and the archangel sighed.

“Remember nothing.”

With that, he snapped his fingers and all the customers and workers went back to doing what they had done before, as if nothing had even happened. Michael and Adam pushed away the plate of cake, no longer hungry.

Michael and Adam could hear Castiel praying to them, well mainly Michael but technically it was both since they shared a body. Michael felt himself get angry at Castiel’s words about his father. He believed that God, their father was their enemy? The archangel could only scoff at that.

Still, he sent a message to Castiel through the angel radio. He told him to meet them at a warehouse, someplace where they could talk alone and privately.

The trenchcoated angel was walking around the warehouse, waiting for his brother. He could sense that he was near, but not visible yet.

“Michael?” Castiel called out.

The sound of flapping wings came from behind him so he turned to find Michael, still inside Adam’s body, standing there.

“Thank you. Thank you for coming.” The archangel only stared at him. “Do you remember me?”

“You called me ‘ass-butt’ and set me on fire. And then you helped send me to Hell.” Michael replied, menacingly.

Castiel looked down awkwardly at the floor, remembering the moment. “I did.”

“And now what? You've come to tell me that God, my father, creator of all things, is my enemy?” Michael glared hard at the angel. “Or maybe you just came to beg for forgiveness.”

Castiel lightly smirked.

“Oh, I didn’t come to beg.”

A lighter flicking open in Cas’ hand caught the man’s attention. He dropped it onto the floor of the warehouse and a ring of fire began to burn around Michael, trapping him inside.

Michael looked around the fire in a slight panic before returning his gaze to Castiel, whose face showed slight regret. The sound of plastic curtains moving made him turn towards the entrance, three figures emerging from the dark.

Adam and Michael could see the figures turn into Sam and Dean Winchester, but what caught Adam’s eye inside of his own mind was the (h/c) short haired female standing beside them. (Y/n) had definitely aged, but not too much, still looking as beautiful as the day he met her. Her hair much short and a little taller than before.

Your breath hitched as you saw Adam, or Michael since that’s who was in control at the time. Ten years and he hadn’t changed that much. Older, yes but he still looked like the boy you left in Hell all those years ago. Keeping a straight face, you held up a pair of angel cuffs and showed it to him.

Knowing what was about to happen, Michael turned to his brother with a sneer.

“Castiel, what have you done?”

After capturing Michael and taking him back to the bunker in cuffs, you all stood in one of the interrogation rooms. You could feel the tension was so thick that even an angel blade couldn’t cut it. The four of you stood on the opposite side of the room, facing a powerless archangel as he stared back at you.

“Even for you, especially for you, this is stupid.” Michael commented.

“Good to see you, too Mike.” Said Dean, sarcastically.

Michael looked at each one of you, looking at Dean then to his brother.

“Sam. You look well. Last time I saw you in the Cage...”

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter.” Sam said in an almost whisper.

You could feel Michael’s eyes on you as he came closer to you all. There was a brief silence as you felt his eyes staring down at you. All you could do was just look away, wanting to see Adam, not Michael.

“We need your help. God-” Sam began to say until he was interrupted by the archangel.

“I’ve heard. Repeatedly.” Michael glanced over to where Cas stood as he sat down in the chair.

“Well then you’re aware-”

“I’m not aware of anything. You're asking me to trust you. You, who doomed me, you, who let Lucifer walk free while your own brother sat in hell.” He barked, feeling protective of the youngest Winchester he grew close to.

You were close to crying. You had tried for years to get Adam back but failed. Eventually, the brothers had convinced you that there was no way of getting him out. Dean looked down at the floor in guilt.

“Doing what we do, we've had to get used to losing people.” Sam tried to tell him.

“Probably a little too used to it.” You added, speaking for the first time.

Cas glanced over to you in concern, but you just looked to him with your lips in a thin line then back to Michael. Adam, inside his own head, could feel himself getting a bit jumpy inside after hearing your voice after so long.

“With Adam, we said goodbye because we thought we had to. We were wrong.”

Michael stared down the man with hard eyes. He always wondered if the brothers ever tried to get Adam back, but apparently not. But if the Winchesters didn’t try, did (Y/n)?

“Well, don't tell me.” Michael said, shaking his head. “Tell him.”

You all stared at him, confused, not understanding what he meant by that. Suddenly, his eyes flashed a blue glow, his body straightening up. Adam glanced to Dean, to Sam, then finally you. He pulled his lips into a short smile.

“Hey, (Y/n),” He then looked to his brothers. “Sam, Dean.”

Your lips formed into a wide grin, happy to hear the real Adam’s voice. It was deeper than when you first met him but that didn’t matter. You just wanted to go up to him and give him the tighest hug ever then never let go.

“Adam.” You said in a small whisper.

You were just about to go run up to him when you were stopped by the arm of Castiel. His eyes telling you stand down and wait until they were done talking first. Hesitantly, you silently agreed. Adam felt a bit upset, he wanted to hold you more than anything as of right now.

“Adam?” Asked Sam, trying to confirm it was really him.

Adam jokingly raised his hands, pretending as if he was about to attack. You would have laughed if it weren’t for the current situation.

“Wait, Mic-Michael lets you talk? I mean, he lets you be?” Questioned Dean.

You were actually just as surprised as the boys, remembering when Dean said yes to Michael to kill Lucifer and he ended up being overriden by the angel for a while.

“Uh, yeah.” Adam nodded. “In the Cage, we came to an agreement. We only had each other.”

Needless to say, you were kind of impressed, actually. You’ve never seen an angel and a vessel come to an agreement or be at peace within each other. It was always the angel being the one at the wheel, never really the vessel.

But it also pained you as you heard Adam’s words. It was just the two of them for so many years, only them in the cage after Sam and Lucifer left. If you had tried harder, maybe they both could have gotten out earlier.

“Adam, look, I know we bailed on you, okay, and there is nothing that we can say to fix that.” Dean admitted to him.

The blonde just sighed.

“How about an ‘I'm sorry’?”

After being trapped in Hell for so many years, all he wanted was an apology from his family. Your heart broke, thinking of the toture he must have gone through and how much pain he felt about being abandoned. Adam was strong, a humble man for only wanting an ‘I’m sorry’.

Adam’s eyes glowed blue for a moment and he grunted, moving around in his cuffs and seat. Michael was back now.

“Enough. Why am I here?” Michael questioned.

Cas spoke up after being quiet for a while. “Michael, we needed to speak with you because God is back. You didn't think the Cage just opened on its own, did you?”

“If my father is back, he will usher in Paradise.”

“No, he won't.” Michael turned to you. “Because Paradise is boring, and your dad...he's just looking to be entertained.” You explained, recalling about when Chuck killed Jack.

“Which means we're his puppets. All of us, especially you.”

The archangel stood up furiously, his face brooding.

“I won't hear this. You're lying.” Michael pointed each and every one of you. “I don't know what your agenda is, but you're lying.” He swore, not wanting to back down on his loyalty to his father.

“Michael...” Cas began to say until Adam managed to switch back with the archangel.

“Hey. It's Adam.” He chuckled, you smiling softly at him.

“I'd give it a rest. He's not listening.”

You and the boys sighed in defeat. Michael was too loyal to his father, not wanting to believe anyone who questioned God’s orders. This was going to be tough.

Later, after the you and boys had left Adam and Michael, Adam, still in the angel cuffs, tried to convince the archangel about joining his brothers.

“So, I've been thinking. Maybe they're not lying.” Adam said as he sat down at the desk in the middle of the room.

Michael, standing on the side, scoffed at his words.

“H-Hear me out. Sam, Dean and...(Y/n) try to be on the right side of things. They actually do. They tried to talk me out of taking you on, for example, out of all of this.” Adam began.

“So, you forgive them?”

“Oh, hell no! No. But that's not what this is about.” Adam faced Michael. “It's...look, if they tell you something's off with God, it's because they believe it's true. And if they believe it, it probably is true.”

You were about to come into the room to talk to Adam with a couple beers, you could hear him talking to someone. But you knew no one else was in the room because no one was replying to him, it was just his voice. You paused before entering, waiting.

“You and I have been together for years. My father and I have been together for eternity. I exist because he willed it.” Michael exclaimed, though you couldn’t hear it.

“So he's having a mid-eternity crisis!” Adam turned to his friend. “Or!...Or, maybe you don't know your dad as well as you think you do.”

You snickered under your breath, now realzing he was probably talking to Michael in his mind. He made a point, Michael didn’t know his father all that well, just like how you and the Winchesters thought you knew him too.

In the room, Michael was about to go off on Adam but instead just turned to face the wall. He walked up the small pairs of steps up to the upper floor.

“The point is parents keep secrets, right? Does it hurt to ask the question?”

Gripping the railing tightly, Michael snapped.

“Yes! It would! It would mean that I doubt him. The good son, the favorite, doubts his father.”

Adam leaned in as close as he could to Michael.

“You still care about that? After he left you in the Cage?”

Adam knew he had truly set off something inside of Michael. He could see his nose flaring from anger and his neck began turning a slight red. Hearing no more talking, you took your chance to enter the room.

“Glad to know that at least one of you believes us.”

Adam looked away from Michael to see you entering the room, two beers in hand. He straightened himself up in his seat, smiling slightly.

“I brought some beers, hoping we could maybe talk.” You asked, setting the alcohol onto the table.

“Yeah, I guess I could use a beer after not having one for 10 years.” Adam teased you.

It wasn’t very funny to you, though. Ten years without Adam, ten years he had suffered. Five years ago when you officially gave up on trying to bring him back, you remembered Sam and Dean telling you how nothing could be done. You lived those next five years thinking you would never see him again. And now, here he is.

“Adam-”

“Did you ever try?” You looked up to him, his expression more serious. “Did you at least ever try to get me out?”

“Oh Adam, if you knew the amount of times I tried to make a deal, looked up a spell- hell anything that would even have the slightest chance to get you out of the Cage...” You stopped for a moment. “I didn’t give up until Sam and Dean had to get me out of my spunk. I spent so many nights of research for you that I still have the eyebags.”

Adam laughed at your joke, you joining him as it echoed throughout the room. When it died down, a comfortable silence replaced it. You and the blonde male just took a moment to stare at one another, taking in each other’s presence.

“I tried, Adam. I really did. But...it was never really enough. I was never enough to save you. I am so, so sorry.” You cried softly.

A tear escaped down your cheek and your controlled breathing was the only sound. Adam could see it in your eyes, you really did try. His brothers, the ones who didn’t even try, were the ones who convinced you otherwise. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael stood behind you, looking at the blonde. He lightly smiled and nodded.

“Well...you did try more than I think my brothers could,” You peeked at Adam through your tears. “I forgive you.”

You stared at him in shock, he just forgave you that quick? If that were you, it would have taken probably years to accept an apology from being left in the Hell. Adam was really something.

“Now, you gonna share a beer with me or are we just gonna sit here all day?”

You giggled. “You’re still in the angel cuffs. Am I gonna have to hold the beer for you?”

“Or you could just hold my hand and I hold the beer.”

The two of you laughed together, you blushed at his words.

“Then you wouldn’t be able to drink, idiot.” You countered.

“Any excuse to hold your hand is fine to me.” He winked.

“You’re so weird.”

“You love me, anyway.”

You smirked. “Of course I do. I didn’t wait for you for 10 years to end up not loving you.”

“You love me?”

You haulted in your tracks. Fuck, you really just outed yourself didn’t you?

“Yes.”

“Well then,” His mouth formed into a grin. “I guess I love you too.”

A/N: Tbh, I don’t really like how this ended but it’s the best I’ve got so deal with it lol. Stay safe, loves!

TAGGED:

@shortwinchester

@coltcas

@urlaslongasafalloutboysongtitle

@xsweetnsour

@irinazatyk

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duker42 · 5 years ago

Note

Levi’s s/o dies and one day comes to him as a ghost and tells him she’s always with him and that his mother has always watched over him, how would he be after that??? Love your work btw and hope youre doing good 💕

💜Always💜

His sleep was never very deep, but since he had lost Y/N it was worse. He slept less than an hour at a time, waking frantically as his mind replayed how she died in front of him.

He woke in a panic, tears streaming down his face, wondering if he could possibly be going mad. She was standing right in front of him.

Levi thought she looked beautiful, she always had before, but there was something almost celestial about her.

Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, the dress she was wearing was pure white and fell gently against her frame. Her feet were bare.

It was such a different sight than he normally had. He remembered in his waking hours how she looked, first thing in the morning, tucked against his side. But when he woke, it was to the image of her being crushed in the hands of a Titan. The expression of agony on her face when he killed the beast just moment too late was etched into his mind.

He had brought her body home, stayed beside the wagon as she was taken back inside the walls. His own hands being the ones to lay her on the funeral pyre. Staying, silent and hollowed eyed as the flames were lit. Remaining well after others had drifted away, not leaving until the embers had died.

“I’m hallucinating.” He muttered as he took in the beautiful sight of her.

Y/N’s smile was exactly how he remember towards him, gentle and loving.

“No, you’re not.” She said, stepping closer to him.

“Then why-“

He shivered and stopped talking when she placed her hand on his cheek for a moment. It wasn’t a cold feeling, more like a jolt of energy against his skin.

“To let you know that I’m always with you. So is your mother.” Levi’s eyes widened as Y/N told him that.

“She’s so proud of the man you are. Of you ever feel alone, know that we are right beside you, even if you can’t see us, my love.” Y/N kissed his lips, making his eyes close as he remembered all the times he had kissed her before.

She tucked something into his hand and straightened, her eyes soft and loving.

“I love you Levi, and don’t forget, We’re always with you.” He blinked and the love of his life was gone.

He shot up out of his chair, his gaze darting around the room, searching for her again. Not wanting her to leave.

He would have dismissed it as a dream, until he looked down at his curled fist. The weight of whatever she had given him in his dream seemingly real.

He started when he opened his hand. In he palm lay a necklace. Simple chain and a heart charm, a favorite necklace of the woman who had stolen his.

There was no possible way it was in his hand, but it was. It was impossible because he had made sure that the necklace that she only took off for expeditions had been around her graceful neck when she had been cremated.

The gold gleamed as he ran his fingers over the words that had been scrawled so lovingly into the back of the charm. He had always flipped it over and read it, reminded of the day that he had first put it around her neck.

“Always with you, Love Forever”

His tears slipped down his face gently as he looped the chair around his neck. His heart peaceful as he stood up from his desk and made his way to the bed they had shared, a sense of tranquility washing over him.

He may have not been able to see her anymore, but he would be able to move forward knowing that she was always with him.

Mobile MasterList

#attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman #attack on titan x reader #captain levi fanfiction #captain levi x reader #captain levi #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #levi heichou #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin x reader

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peakysabrina · 5 years ago

Text

Dark Horse: Chapter 2

As usual, please leave your comments and suggestions if you want to!

No warnings, other than the usual one for violent themes, and I think for language as well.

The story is also on AO3 btw https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabrinaT/works

Thanks a bunch, y’all!

Being from Romani descent, and speaking Rokka quite well, Tommy and his siblings could pratically sense when a camp was nearby. There was this scent, this energy, almost an aura that was as characteristic as fingerprints. Johnny and his family, for example, still lived in the traditional way, despite having settled in Birmingham for the time being. It was a beautiful, communal form of living, one that was cherished by those close to it, and conducive to strong forms of family bonds. The new camp, however, wasn't as bright, as lively, or as big as a normal Romani camp would be. The wagons hadn't maintained the natural hues of the wood, but had been painted black, probably to match the horses, and the clothings of the inhabitants. There was a sad fire in the middle of the settlement, and some clothes on a line, but that was it.

"A wagon each, almost" Tommy uttered, lighting his cigarette as him and his sister Ada approached the settlement. They'd given Georgia and her people a piece of Shelby land for them to stay, until Aberama's killer was found and brought to his daughter's justice. "There are six of them, and four wagons"

"I can see that. Is there a couple amongst them? Siblings?" Ada asked, rightly convinced that Tommy had done his usual, thorough research on those people, like he did with everyone, especially people whom he settled inside his own properties.

"I was led to believe there is a pair of twins within the group, but that's all I know" Tommy responded, looking around, expecting for someone to appear before he kicked down the closest door, and find Gigi Gold by his own means.

"You're early" a voice said, somewhere in front of them. A second later, a tall young man emerged from the back of a van, sporting a top hat and a tuxedo. Why he had decided to wear such formal clothes for the occasion, they did not know, but it would soon become obvious that none of the participants in that particular enterprise ccared much for what others thought. If anything, the way they looked, and the way they dressed, was the least of anyone's concerns when the band came round somewhere.

"Yes, we are, but just five minutes. You reckon Gigi can see us now?" Ada enquired, clutching her handbag and parasol, which she'd taken with her as a ready-made weapon. "She's expecting us"

"Gigi! Gigi, there are some people here to see you, lass" the youth shouted, walking up to one of the smaller wagons and pounding on the door. "She most likely knows you're here, just can't be arsed to get up, if I'm being honest"

"Oh, that's..."Ada started, but Gigi herself emerged from her mobile home and stomped down the two steps, her heavy boots covered in mud.

"Wasn't sleeping. And you really are early" Gigi agreed, walking up to the two Shelbies and shaking their hands. The dress she wore as different than the one she had on when they had first met, but it had one thing in common with the other: the sleeves were too long, reaching the girl's knuckles. Her hair was also different, simply because it was now all the same colour, having lost the red that stained the tips. Even for someone who was used to deal in violence, the realization that Gigi Gold had entered his house with fresh blood dripping from her hair and clothes made Tommy a little bit sick to the stomach. "I can make some tea, but it will take time"

"No tea, thank you. We won't be long" Tommy announced, following Gigi to her wagon, and taking a seat on the cramped space. The girl didn't have much to her name, but the wagon was clearly made for one person, and not three, including one grown man. When the door was closed, it was mildly comfortable, and warm as well, not to mention dry.

"Why did the two of you come? I told you that I would negotiate with Ada, and we came to an agreement. I won't violate the terms and conditions of it, nor will I allow you to escape them" Gigi asserted, sitting on what seemed to be a makeshift bed, and getting rid of her muddy boots before crossing her legs.

"Georgia, we don't intend on giving up before we find out who betrayed us" Tommy countered, taking off his cap and flattening his hair. "There is more at stake for us than there is for you. I can't allow the people who killed your father to remain on the loose"

"We're doing everything we can to answer your questions" Ada confirmed, a little less at ease than her brother seemed to be. "I don't know if you know, but our aunt Polly was engaged to your father, and she too is in great pain. She needs closure"

"Yeah, we knew that" Georgia sighed, her shoulders dropping. "I guess you could say dad had his favourite... and it was never me, or my sisters. But he did send a letter every once in a while" she confessed, surprising her guests, none of them expecting her to display any type of vulnerability, through the exposure of that bit of her private life. It was clear that she wasn't as young as she had seemed at first sight, not a child, but a girl of at least eighteen. Not only that, but it was sadly evident that she hadn't received much love, or known much comfort.

"I don't think he was ever the same after Bonnie was killed" Ada agreed, biting the inside of her lower lip, a habit she had picked up as a girl. "If he didn'tlove Polly, I think that he wouldn't have survived it"

"I'm sure he wouldn't. Mind you, I didn't mean he didn't love me, I think he did. But I turned out too much like him, my sisters turned out too much like my mother, and Bonnie was the only one who was special, who could be more than... have children, or..."

"Or be a gun for hire" Tommy completed, stating clearly why he had gone to the camp. It wasn't a negotiation he intended, it was business. It was always business, when it came down to it, and this was no exception.

"Is that what you think I do?" Gigi asked, the shadow of a giggle flourishing on her lips. "Kill people for money?"

"Not just me. The whole of Wales knows it" Tommy scoffed, interested in seeing how she would deny what was all over the news as she did as much as show herself in Swansea or surrounding villages.

"You're wrong. I don't take money"

"What do you take, then?" he asked in return, crossing his arms. "What do you want?"

"What do you want, Thomas? I'd need to know that, before I issue the invoice" Gigi chuckled, playing with the hem of her dress, and picking on a random scab on her knee.

"I need..." he said, producing a list from his pocket and handing it over to Gigi. "...these men dead. They all live near here, so they shouldn't be hard to find. Make sure you leave quite a mess, so that the message can get to the appropriate people"

"And what have they done to deserve this?" Gigi asked, reading the list slowly, and turning the paper around to see if it continued.

"Do you need to know?" Tom enquired, releasing a good deal of smoke from his cigarette. "Is that part of the invoice?"

"It is, actually. I don't know what you've been told, but I don't take money. I just want to know whether the people I'm gettind rid of deserve to be killed with my methods" Georgia simply informed, pulling her hair over her shoulder.

"These men are associated with the Billy Boys, who killed your brother Bonnie" Ada explained, pointing out the list. "They came down from Scotland to be at hand, should they be needed. We want then dead, and we want you to do it, so that you can see we're serious when we say we'll find your dad's killer, or killers"

"Like a peace offering? The plot of land was enough" Gigi laughed, shrugging emphatically. "I appreciate it. I'll see what I can do, alright? Any deadline?"

"No, no deadline. Take your time" Ada encouraged, unable to conceal the slight sparkle in her eyes at the thought of Gigi Gold maiming and killing bad people. One day, the day would come when Aberama Gold's killers would be brought to the same executioner, who would punish those who had broken Polly Gray.

#peaky blinders #fanfic #fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #ada shelby

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reddeadmort · 6 years ago

Note

Might I please request Arthur fussing over pregnant reader, it gives me all the feels! 🙌🏻 like maybe someone bumps into her and Arthur loses it 🥰thank you!!!!!!!!!! ♥️♥️

Love me some fluffy, protective Arthur :D I’m hoping this satisfies your feels craving anon!Btw, heads up, I’m not bothering to have ‘swearing in my guidance/warnings anymore… if I wrote it, assume it’s in there somewhere!

Arthur Morgan x F Reader | “Pregnant, not dying”

Guidance: Minor blood/violence, some fluffy fluff. Brief yeet.

Words: 2.4k

Arthur Morgan was many things; gorgeous, kind, artistic, with a shoulder to waist ratio that made you weak at the knees, even after all these years. But, right now, Arthur was…….doing your head in.

Ever since you’d found out about your pregnancy, he’d been treating you differently, trying to help with everything. But since you’d started properly showing, and now you were getting close, he was acting like you were made of glass. You were normally so independent, and not being able to do simple things easily, like picking up a dropped pencil, annoyed you terribly. As Arthur guided you to a chair near the campfire, he asked if you needed anything for what felt like the 10th time in as many minutes.

“Arthur, god dammit, I’m pregnant, not dying” you snapped. As soon as the words left your lips, you knew they were a mistake. A horrible thing to say to this man that had been through so much. You sighed, quickly grabbing his large hand.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m just fed up of not being able to help out and move around like I used to. And you know I don’t like clumping around in these damn dresses.” Arthur was hurt, but smiled at you sympathetically. No matter what you said, you were carrying his child, and he couldn’t love you any more than he did at that moment.

“S’all right darlin’. I know you’re frustrated. Tell you what, Miss Grimshaw has asked me to pick up some supplies from town. Why don’t ya come with me. We’ll be takin’ the wagon, so should be a gentle ride.”

You smiled at him; while you were sure his fussing would be the death of you, you loved how much effort he put in to try to make you happy.

“Sure thing darling, that’d be real nice.” You sat quietly, listening to the birdsong, feeling your baby kick inside you as you waited for Arthur to gather what he needed. It was peaceful here; but you could do with getting out again, seeing people that weren’t part of your odd little family.

The journey took longer than usual, Arthur being very careful to make it as smooth a ride as possible. He brought the cart to a stop outside the Valentine general store, and quickly made his way around to help you down. This was one moment you were more than willing to have his help; you were practically waddling instead of walking as it was, and getting down from a cart was no mean feat in your condition. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders while Arthur carefully hoisted you up into the air and gently deposited you on the ground.

“You go on into the store darlin’, I’ve got an errand to run in the gunsmith. Won’t be long, promise.” Arthur smiled at you and quickly kissed your cheek; you always loved the feel of his stubble against your soft skin. Arthur helped you up the few steps to the store, then headed off up the road. You lingered for a moment, admiring the view as he walked away from you, then opened the shop door.

“Good morning ma’am, lovely to see you again. What can I get for you today?” You liked the Valentine general store owner. He was a kind, family man, and never rushed you to make your mind up about your purchases. You’d made sure the gang knew not to cause any fuss in or near his store; they wouldn’t normally target a place like this, but you’d thought it best to make it clear to some of the more….challenging members of the group.

“Good morning Francis! Quite a long list today I’m afraid, might take a little while.” You smiled, leaning against the counter, and handed Francis the handwritten note. “Oh and I don’t suppose you’ve managed to procure the item I..err…. mentioned last time?” You shuffled awkwardly, you had no idea why this embarrassed you so much.

“Of course I have my dear! And please, don’t fret yourself, my wife had far stranger requests than yours when she was in the same way.” He smiled at you, chuckling slightly, as he reached under the counter and presented you with the object of your latest craving; beet juice. “Do be careful though, that red can be a devil for staining everything” he warned.

“You’re a wonderful man Francis, I can’t thank you enough.” You left the jar on the counter as the shopkeeper turned away to start fetching the other items on the long list the gang members had cobbled together.

Suddenly, two young well-dressed men burst into the shop, with a young woman trailing anxiously behind them.

“Acrisius, you are too much of a coward to even buy bait, let alone use it!”

“My dear Proetus, I will be rubbing that bait on myself while you cower behind a rock!”

“Good man, two of your finest packages of Predator bait please!” they chorused at the shopkeeper, while their unfortunate female companion just stood there, shaking her head.

You chuckled to yourself; Arthur had told you about these two. Constantly trying to outdo the other, he was certain they were going to get themselves killed one of these days.

“You boys off hunting?” you asked, eyebrow raised.

“Why yes I am dear lady!” Proetus responded. “I am going to prove how much braver I am than this fool by wrestling with a wolf!”.

“Pish, Proetus, pish!” Acrisius scoffed. “I will be wrestling two wolves while you are crying for mother!”.

Smiling, you sighed. What idiots.

“You boys ever even seen a wolf?” The two young men stuttered slightly, bravado slightly dampened. “Because I have. I’ve shot whole packs of ‘em. And I’ve seen what they can do to a prepared hunting man. Let alone two townies like yourselves.” The boys, attempting to cover their growing nervousness, tried to interrupt you, but you didn’t let them.

“You see, the first thing they’ll do is try and get you off your horse. So that means either you falling off as your horse panics and rears, or they’ll clamp their jaws around your foot and drag you off.” You continued, enjoying the expressions slowly changing on the boys’ faces. “Either way, you’re on the ground. And that’s when they’ll go for you. If you’re lucky, it’ll be quick, and they’ll tear your throat out in one go. If you’re unlucky, they may miss; and I can tell you first hand that the noises a man having his face torn off by wolves makes are ungodly.” Your words were having the desired effect; both boys were growing paler by the word. You really didn’t want these boys to end up in the wilderness.

“I’ve patched braver, stronger, men than you up after they’ve been savaged and survived, and believe me, they cried as I slowly stitched the holes in their cheeks together. One fella, I could see clean through into his bloodied mouth….” There we go.

That last thought proved too much for Proetus, and he keeled over, face first, hitting the floor with a thud. You burst out laughing, you couldn’t help yourself; these poor lads were just too amusing to someone that had had a life like yours. Acrisius straightened up – you could tell he was trying his hardest not to lose his breakfast – and regained some of his previous bravado.

“I believe it is finally settled! I, Acrisius, am the bravest brother, and am therefore…..” He stepped forwards, forgetting about his brother’s prone body. He tripped, flying towards you, knocking the beet juice to your feet. The jar shattered, splattering bright red juice up your skirt; Acrisius tried to catch himself, only managing to grab your arm and send you tumbling into the grain sacks behind you. They broke your fall well; it was undignified, but you were unhurt. The sight of them both sprawled on the floor was all too much, and your laughing became hysterical; you could barely breathe as you laughed so hard it actually hurt.

Arthur was feeling quite pleased with himself as he strolled back from the gunsmiths. He’d carefully sneaked your pistols into his satchel this morning, and had gotten the gunsmith to fit the carefully carved pearl grips he knew you’d been pining over. You’d have never bought them for yourself; they were just cosmetic, and you were far too practical for that. He smiled to himself as he thought about how happy they’d make you; he knew he’d been coddling you too much, but he just couldn’t help himself. This time he was going to be there, to protect you and his child, no matter how much eye-rolling and grumbling his fussing produced.

Arthur was only a few metres away when he heard the crash, bang and muffled thuds. His heart stopped, his hand already pulling his revolver out as he sprinted the last few metres and crashed through the door of the shop. The sight before him made his heart break; you were on the floor, struggling to breath, tears streaming down your face, covered in blood from the waist down.

He quickly scanned the room for the culprit, a mixture of panic and anger fuelling him. Acrisius was scrambling to his feet; Arthur grabbed the front of his shirt in his fist and helped him the rest of the way, and further. Poor Acrisius’s feet dangled in the air as Arthur shoved his gun barrel under his chin.

“What the hell have you dumb bastards done now!” Arthur yelled in his face. “Actin’ like fools, I told you someone was gonna get hurt!”

You tried to speak to Arthur, but still could barely breathe from laughing so hard. Unable to get a word out, you grabbed the first thing to hand and launched it at his back, desperate to get his attention and reassure him before he killed these two flouncing morons.

The apple sailed through the air, hitting Acrisius square in the forehead; the force knocked his head back, slamming it into the wooden beam behind him, knocking him clean out. This made you laugh even harder, clutching at your sides as you practically hyperventilated. You’d never been good at throwing, and what a way to miss.

Shocked, Arthur dropped Acrisius in a crumpled heap on the floor. Rage subsiding, panic became his primary emotion, and he immediately rushed to your side. He grabbed your hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N). So sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I’m a fool, I should never have left you alone, I’ve let you down.” Arthur’s quiet sobs quickly brought your laughing under control.

Your hands broke free from his and you grabbed his face with both of them, forcing him to stare directly into your eyes.

“Darling, look at me. I.am.fine.” You panted, getting your breath back. Arthur was confused, glancing down at your red soaked skirt.

“But, (Y/N), your….you’ve….” his voice trailed off as you followed his gaze downwards, finally seeing things from his point of view.

“Oh my poor, handsome, protector.” You smiled at him, his face still clasped in your hands. “You’ve seen plenty of blood in your time. Look closer, does that look like blood?” You released Arthur’s face as he turned his head, taking the time to survey the scene properly. He noticed the shards of glass, how thin the liquid was. Not wanting him to be miserable any longer than he had to be, you quickly reassured him again. “It’s beet juice, my sweet. One of those idiots fainted, and the other fell, knocking it onto the floor. It was so comical darling, I couldn’t contain myself.”

Arthur’s shoulders finally relaxed, a huge wave of relief washing over him. “Oh god, (Y/N), I thought I’d lost you both”. He smiled at you, gently stroking your face.

“I’m still here Arthur. We’re both still here for you. Now help me up, I feel like a damn turtle stuck on it’s back”. Arthur chuckled and helped you to your feet. As he did so, the two boys groaned, finally starting to come round.

“I’m so sorry about the mess Francis, we’ll pay for the juice of course” you said as you once again leaned on the counter, this time with Arthur’s large arm supporting your waist.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I won’t hear of it.” You’d almost forgotten about the girl that had accompanied the boys into the shop; she was stood in the corner, one hand to her forehead, shaking her head. “These two desperate, silly, men caused all the trouble, and I will make sure they are the ones to foot the bill. Please, anything you came for is on them. And do pick out a new dress for yourself. I’m going to make sure their mother hears of this.”

You laughed, and graciously accepted the offer. Arthur loaded the items into the wagon while the girl helped you select a new dress; she insisted on you getting one of the more expensive options. While you didn’t need the charity, you were grateful she did; a nice dress might make you feel a bit more like yourself again. The shopkeeper even managed to procure another jar of beet juice from the back storeroom, which you took gratefully.

As you left the shop, you heard the girl start berating the two boys angrily. “I guess she’s finally had ‘nuff of those fellas antics then” Arthur smiled as he hoisted you gently onto the seat of the cart. The ride back to camp was relaxed, filled with laughter, as you explained what had happened. As Arthur came to a stop in the camp, he put his arm around you and gently kissed your forehead, before pulling away quickly.

“I almost forgot (Y/N)! I gotcha a present in town.” He scrabbled at his satchel, quickly producing your two pistols, now adorned with their wonderfully iridescent pearl grips.

“Oh Arthur, they’re wonderful, thank you!” You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled his biggest, goofiest grin, before jumping down and hurrying around to your side to help.

As he lifted you down, you playfully hit him on the chest. “By the way Mr Morgan, you better not panic like that when the baby comes!”

“I ain’t promisin’ nothin’ (Y/N)”. Arthur grinned, and you sighed, smiling, as you walked hand in hand into the camp.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fluff #my work #fanfic #red dead fanfic #rdr 2 #Desperately want a picture of reader yeeting an apple

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mojoflower · 6 years ago

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My child with CIDP (a chronic neurologic illness)

Thank you for asking, @sunshinemeansmylove. I’m always happy to share our story -- it’s cathartic. And also, *I find it interesting, so I assume others do, too ;)

Almost ten years ago, when Phoenix had just turned 5, he started walking oddly. We didn’t think much of it for a day or two, because he didn’t complain of anything hurting. It got bad enough that one of his preschool teachers asked about it, so we took him in for x-rays and whatnot. But they found nothing. They put him in a boot for possible Kholer Disease, just in case (I don’t even know what that doctor was thinking), and with the boot, he essentially stopped walking altogether, and kept saying he didn’t want to go to preschool anymore: so I took him out.

Within a week he’d stopped playing as much. He appeared quite content just watching everyone else play. He’d only stand on sidewalks instead of going on the grass. (You need to know that he already had a long history of medical shit, because he didn’t walk until after 2, and didn’t talk until late, and was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Delay and “symptoms relating to autism” and had had 3 years of intensive therapies and Early Intervention by this point. So I figured the grass thing was sensory, instead of balance.)

He started doing stairs on his bottom, instead of walking, and one day he fell down them. (We’d moved into a new house... with stairs... only 4 months earlier. Of course.) The next day, he was on the living room floor, playing with his matchbox cars, and couldn’t get up. That was the last time he stood for weeks.

All this time, he remained sweet-natured and amenable and never said that anything hurt. But now he couldn’t walk and couldn’t stand. We rushed him to the Children’s Hospital (which in Atlanta is very reputable, thankfuckinggod). They ran tests. Oh, god, they ran tests. He didn’t have reflexes at all, and couldn’t feel his hands and feet. This is hands-down the most terrifying period of my life, ever.

Finally, with a spinal tap and a horrifically invasive and ghastly and painful EMG test (wherein they jab a pin into your thigh muscle, poke another further down the leg and run an electrical current between the two to measure degree of blockage in the transmission). Phoenix had complete nerve conduction blockage (100% paralysis of his legs... it was moderately better in his arms and hands).

He cried and screamed and begged me and Daddy to help him while the doctor was doing this (it took something like half an hour). But they couldn’t give him pain killers or tranquilizers of just knock him out, b/c that would have messed with their results, so we had to hold him down. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and to this day I won’t go to the hospital without a bottle of xanax in my purse, because the doctors can’t prescribe it for the parents, even though EVERYONE NEEDS IT, because you have to be calm for your kid. Fuck, I’m crying just thinking about it.

We brought him everywhere in a little red wagon, which CHOA uses instead of wheelchairs, all nestled up with blankets and his lambie.

(One utterly thoughtless fucker -- not his neurologist -- said if his nerves didn’t work and it was progressive, it’d eventually move up his arms and legs until it reached his heart and lungs and suppressed breathing and then he’d die. Which is factually true, but jesus christ.)

We thought he was going to die. Over less than 20 days he’d gone from normal(-ish) healthy kid to a lump in a hospital bed who couldn’t move his legs at all and couldn’t wrap his hands around anything, couldn’t hold you back when you held him.

CIDP in children is incredibly rare. It’s a super-rare condition regardless, but usually people get it as adults (average age 50). It’s something like .000005% of the population. Like, maybe there are 20 kids in the entirety of metro Atlanta who have it. CIDP is a neuropathy in which the person’s immune system begins attacking the insulating sheath (myelin) around nerve cells, starting at the peripheral nervous system (hands/feet, legs/arms). Without this fatty sheath, electrical signals from the brain simply don’t transmit to the muscles. In many cases, there’s intense, phantom pain associated with it, but thankfully, Phoenix has only ever been numb, and I pray with my whole atheist heart and soul that it never changes.

But we lucked out, and the neurologist we got at CHOA identified CIDP fairly quickly (within a week, during which we never left the hospital, of course) and started him on IVIg. IVIg is intravenous immunoglobulin -- essentially strained human plasma -- to remove all but the specific antibody Ig.

(SO PLEASE: GO DONATE OR SELL YOUR PLASMA, it’s keeping kids like mine out of wheelchairs. It costs more than gold, it cannot be synthesized or taken from animals. They don’t know the exact mechanism by which it works (they call it a “black box”) but it does, and it’s fucking miraculous.)

With sufficient IVIg, the myelin sheath is repaired fairly rapidly. At first, he needed infusions every three days. (Generally, specialists told me, kids his age will go into remission after a year or two. Phoenix, bless, is special and never has, even though I kept waiting and waiting. Almost ten years later, and he’s steady like clockwork, remission never on the horizon.) Over the years, we’ve managed to stretch the intervals to 15 weeks. Which is great, because insurance HATES US: the pharmacy cost alone is easily $100k+ a year, not to mention hospital stays and clinics. Annually, we have to defend his need to go at whatever interval it is at the time, they’re always pushing us to stretch it further.

So he’s been on maintenance for many years. There are some visual cues if he begins to decline, like his feet slapping when he walks, or using the bannister with two hands when he goes upstairs, but it’s not always that obvious. This week, I asked him if it was the CIDP when he tried to get out of band practice for the third time, and he said yes, but I don’t see those other cues (although he’s been laying on the sofa for a few weeks and has stopped hanging out with his friends and is sleeping longer) so I don’t know if I just handed him a really good excuse to stay home and play computer games.

He’s been low-key complaining for about a week, and our next IVIg appointment isn’t until Oct. 1st. You have to schedule months in advance so rescheduling for earlier isn’t possible, not to mention insurance will gleefully not pay if it’s earlier than 15 weeks (which means $9-$17k out of pocket, depending on the whimsy/voodoo of the hospital billing department).

So. Yeah. This is what it’s like to have a child with a chronic illness. (CIDP is Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy, btw. It’s essentially the lifelong version of Guillain-Barré, that thing you see warning signs about when you go get your flu shot. It can only be maintained, not cured.) This is a good example of why it’s so vital for laws to prevent insurance companies from turning people down due to preexisting conditions.

It’s hard, as a parent. He could be a typical teen who’d rather not spend all day in school... or his nervous system could very literally be slowly deteriorating. I have to make judgement calls all the time, and sometimes I’m wrong. It’s kind of terrifying.

#cidp #pediatric cidp #ivig #chronic illness #children with chronic illnesses #parenting is hard #mojo worries #mojo muses #sunshinemeansmylove

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ginmo · 6 years ago

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Okay this is going to be long haha. As a disclaimer, Jaime can still die. This just explains why I’ve become skeptical over that fate.

I have not been given a straight answer to Jaime’s fate by any of the people I have spoken with, and I can’t be too detailed in my explanations because of reasons, but this is what I can say:

1. Jaime doesn’t die in the battle of WF. I’m making this clear because this has become popular spec. Now when I say die, I mean permanently dead, not resurrection dead. I have no info about any resurrections, so it’s entirely possible he can “die” and still come back. All I know is that Jaime is definitely alive after the battle of WF, so don’t listen to any leaker who says his final farewell is during that battle. I know of a specific event (actually, two of them) that happens after the WF battle, and he’s very much alive for it.

2. Jaime is in all 6 episodes, and no, that information is NOT taken from Nikolaj’s contract. I can say this with 99% confidence.It’s possible he could be in less depending on how they move scenes around in post production, but at least during filming, every person I spoke with was certain he was in every episode.

3. Jaime is not dead during Tyrion’s trial in episode 6. Tyrion’s trial is AFTER the KL battle.......... sooooo.................

4. Okay this really isn’t anything lol but, they were all pretty excited to tell me what happens, and wanting to tell me “so badly!” while… knowing I want him to live. Like I said, that doesn’t mean much, but I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt and assuming they’re not, like, Satan or something. “Omg you want him to live so I’m so excited for you to see him DIE! :D!!”

Recent Observations:

This isn’t what I’ve been personally told, but this is what I have observed in fandom over the past few months. Take all of this with a grain of salt. I’m only including these because they got my attention, considering what I know.

1. There have been a couple randos that have popped into fandom just to say that everyone is wrong about Jaime because he lives and then they poof. Like I said, take this with a grain of a salt. It probably is nothing, but they always stood out to me as suspicious.

2. Recently, someone said they spoke with a family friend and that friend said a person everyone thought would live ends up dying and someone who was “seemingly marked by death from the beginning” would survive. This actually can’t really be argued for any character. Not every character has been around since the beginning, and only a handful have been “marked by death” in the eyes of fandom.

Speaking on average: Jon, Dany, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Sam… all of them have fairly uncertain fates or the assumption of survival. Minor characters? No one is going to care so much about their fate to give a spoiler about it (“oh man dude! Melisandre LIVES! People will freak!”) or the others haven’t been around since the beginning… IMO, there are only two characters that fit that description: the twins. Considering I have good reason to believe Jaime may actually have a chance at survival, and since literally every sector of the GoT fandom, including the JB fandom, he's talked about as if he’s already dead, I’m going to make an assumption here and apply that to Jaime. Out of the twins, Jaime has actual potential set up for survival, Cersei not so much.

Narrative:

As much as Jaime’s death would fit the traditional mold for the path he is currently on, there is setup for a possible survival in the books and the show. I had always envisioned his fate going either way, and was confused why people would be completely convinced of death or survival. I felt both had set up? I went from thinking he was doomed, to thinking he would survive, to being totally unsure, back to thinking he’s dead again, and now I’m residing in survival camp.... for now, at least lol.

I could go on and on and on with the support in the books. I could describe a different interpretation to his weirwood dream, dig up quotes about how he’s yearning for fatherhood and a married life and how he thinks he will only ever be a warrior, explain how the hand chop was his “death,” moan about how eye-roll worthy it is for him to be a Stark prop. I can find evidence to argue that he’s simultaneously being molded into a leader and heir and therefore it would be a wasteful death that accomplish nothing. I can also blab about how Brienne is basically his plot armor because of how ridiculously redundant and meaningless it would be for HER arc if another person were to die in her arms and leave her exactly where she started (actually, no, I’ll probably still talk about this with the show evidence because it annoys me). But since this is a somewhat show-themed post, the question being about season 8, I’ll just stick with the show evidence.

Show Evidence:

1. Watch: Jaime and Tywin’s conversation #1 , conversation #2, conversation #3. Look. The show decided to include THREE SCENES about marriage and the Lannister Legacy. THREE................

“Oh but in the first one he says that he doesn’t want the Lannister legacy to fall like the Targaryens did which foreshadows the Lannisters going extinct.”

Jaime fulfilling his duty as heir has been brought up T H R E E times.

And the Targaryens went… extinct? … I mean… who are the two leads of this series? If they’re going to parallel the Targaryens in some form, then that means they definitely don’t go extinct. Baby Lannister left behind? Possible. But…

2. Jaime is removed from the KG in season 6. Why? In the show he... didn’t need to be removed from KG so he could later on leave Cersei (even in the books he ran off while still on the KG). Brienne says Fuck Loyalty and he Fucks Loyalty anyway. They could have had him do that while still member of the KG. It was perfect setup. Tywin wants him removed so he can fulfill the Lannister legacy, Jaime eventually gets removed. What’s the point of removing him from the KG to simply lead the Lannister army for two seasons and then die if he could have been doing that anyway as LC? They removed him from the KG because he’s being molded into an heir and freed of vows for endgame. And, again, connects to the Tywin conversations.

3. Purple Wedding. Ah, one of my favorites. (<- that one kinda sucks because the youtuber edited Brienne’s walk to be more quick but you still get the point)

When Loras and Jaime are having a conversation, Jaime says, “You’ll never marry [Cersei]” and Loras responds with, “And neither will you.” Loras walks away, Jaime looks down, Brienne walks past and Jaime looks up. Keep in mind GRRM at least wrote the Cersei and Brienne portion, and it was even mentioned that they paid attention to the transitions. when filming and editing.

Minor detail to mention: the Bear and the Maiden Fair is playing in the background.

”lol that song has been used before for other people.”

Yeah... for marriages. Not only has it been consistently used for Jaime and Brienne - also season 3 when they’re captured and used as the episosde title for the bear pit- but the other times it has been used were for: the wedding feast between Tyrion and Sansa, the wedding feast between Edmure and Roslin, and then the wedding of Joffrey and Marg... and when did it play at theirs? During the Jaime and Brienne scenes, literally during and after Loras told Jaime he would never marry Cersei and then Brienne walks past and then Cersei accuses Brienne of being in love with Jaime.

“It just means Jaime won’t marry Cersei because he’ll fall in love with Brienne.”

Maybe? But he’s already simultaneously falling in love with Brienne and he was (in the show) still trying to marry Cersei? Why is a theme of marriage hammered in so often then? (like Brienne’s monologue, which I’ll get to)

Maybe I can also throw in this more tinfoily bit in. “Maybe you’re a Lannister too.”

4. “Die in the arms of the woman I love.” -sigh-. Okay, I admit, the first time I heard this I jumped on the SEE JAIME IS DEAD bandwagon and was firmly stationed on that wagon until I got info that started raising my hopes and then Brienne’s, “nothing’s more hateful than failing to protect the one you love” popped into my head and I’m like

and then “who wants to die defending a Lannister.” Yeah yeah, “who wants to die defending a Lannister” is simply foreshadowing Brienne’s love for Jaime and doesn’t necessarily mean she will die (she at least survives to episode 6, after the battle). But if you take that and mix it with “nothing’s more hateful than failing to protect the one you love” and stir it in a pot, you got yourself Brienne making a move that almost gets her killed to save Jaime and NOT fail the like 4th or 5th person just because.

That line about failing is so often overlooked. Yeah, of course it’s possible it can mean she fails again, but I’m just… even if it doesn’t foreshadow shit, it made it clear that failing the one she loves is a thing she wants to avoid so... why the hell would the story have her fail another fucking person? What’s the point? She feels like she failed her father, failed Renly, failed Catelyn (more in the books), she’ll probably feel that way after Pod bites it, let’s have her fail Jaime too! :D! Let’s also be repetitive and have a guy die in her arms again just to rip her heart out and leave her exactly where she started just for the demonic lolz (btw I never subscribed to GRRM being as blood thirsty as people make him out to be). To me, that line sounds like she’s going to do everything in her power to not let that happen ever again. There will probably be a close call where she thinks she failed but doesn’t. Jaime saved her twice, maybe she will be the knight in shining armor and save him.

“Okay but what if she’s left with his baby? She’s not exactly where she left off then.”

No, she’s not in the exact same spot, and that’s a scenario I definitely find plausible. However, she... still kinda is? Stripping her of the only person who has ever genuinely loved her in that way sends a message that society is correct- Brienne, an ugly, undesirable woman- is unworthy of love. Brienne is unworthy of a long, happy life full of love because the Gods gave him to her for just a bit, dropped a baby in her lap as a consolation prize, and took the one person who has ever genuinely loved her for who she was.Normally I would argue that GRRM isn’t writing a story that gives characters everything they deserve. And I agree with that, but I’d argue that he’s using Brienne to literally tell a message of BatB. Inner beauty triumphs, superficiality does not (Cersei being example A). The message isn’t as effective if this rejected, freakish, beast of a woman continues to feel like a failure, continues to get fucked over and remains fucked over in endgame.

Now back to “die in the arms of the woman I love.” This line was used to set up the JC downfall to the viewers, and get Jaime questioning by having Bronn say, “does she feel the same?” On the surface it’s Cersei, the subtext is Brienne. That was it’s purpose. But I tend to agree with the people who say it can also be foreshadowing. So can he still die? OF COURSE! Will I agree with the narrative decision? NO (explanation further down). Can he die and be resurrected like a literal BatB tale? YEAH! Can it mean that he dies in the arms of the woman he loves as an old man? SURE! There’s multiple interpretations here.

Going back to the last one, I find it curious that immediately before Jaime mentions his preferred way of death, Bronn said he wanted to die as an old man in his castle with children groveling at his feet for his fortune and Jaime makes a comment about how that’s boring. So, I’d find it kinda funny then if the two desires were combined. (and Jaime never said in a battle, btw. The scene he describes is romantic with no context).

5. Brienne. Don’t tOUCH ME. Okay.

a) She told Catelyn she wasn’t a Lady, told Pod she wasn’t, Cersei told her she’s a Lady whether she wants to be or not... her insecurities over being a Lady is CLEARLY a theme that the show decided to keep. And then there’s this scene. Brienne fulfills her oath by keeping the Stark girls safe and getting them North. Pod calls her my Lady, Brienne begins to say she’s not a Lady, stops herself, and then thanks Pod. why is this always ignored?? This is saying that plot is done. Brienne is done being a bodyguard (which is also made crystal clear in Season 7 when Sansa basically tells her she can protect herself and Brienne tells the Hound that Arya doesn’t need protection). Brienne’s acceptance of her title is the story saying that Brienne will move on from this dragged out af plot and will now get ready to fulfill her role as Lady/heir. So what does this have to do with Jaime? Ahem. Well who else is being groomed for the role of Lord/heir?

b) I’ve been dying for them to finally give some book canon backstory to Brienne and show her vulnerable side. I was pleased in season 5 when we were delivered a wonderful little nugget that isn’t straight book canon, but an adaptation of it. Look, the fact that they even CARED to adapt this for the show is huge. Here is the scene.

The addition of this scene is important because it’s Brienne literally telling Pod (and the viewers) that the happiest she has ever been was when all the boys wanted to marry her and take her back to their castles. It’s reminding the viewers that romance is a major theme of her arc. They had her specifically mention marriage and living a domestic life in a castle and that made her fucking happy dude. The happiest she had ever been.

Now… why? Why is that necessary if Jaime and Brienne are just destined to bang and then he bites it? If they wanted to highlight that Brienne is a sexual being that wants to be loved, they literally could have taken out the whole marriage and castles and kept it as the boys dancing with her and complimenting her and flirting with her made her happy. But no, they brought in marriage. She wants marriage, man. She secretly desires the life of a Lady, with the one she loves, and that’s okay. And do NOT tell me that her destiny is to be some bodyguard for the Starks. I already wrote like 4 paragraphs on it but deleted because… not the place. Anyway, they adapted the marriage bits because it’s something that comes up in Brienne’s chapters quite a bit. (The lions on the cloak as she watched the boy she was to marry walk away and Jaime putting a cloak around her shoulders are probably my favorites).

“But what if they marry and then he dies!”

Oh, a little spoiler: Let’s just say it doesn’t seem likely they marry on screen. Possible, but very unlikely. So if they marry, marriage would have to be implied after the show... -whispers- which means he would have to survive.

Also, I already explained why I personally find that an ineffective ending, but again, is it possible that’s the version being told? Hell yeah it is. This is why I’m not completely convinced of his survival, and why I have always been open-minded about his death, and have gone back and forth depending on how much I trust the quality of writing. In most redemption arc narratives the character dies because death itself is something they have avoided, usually by obtaining power or through an exploration of a courage theme. Jaime has already proven he’s willing to sacrifice himself and has accepted his death on many different occasions (ex: he jumped into a bear pit with one hand and no weapon with literally no plan, and on the show he charged a fire breathing dragon head on with nothing but a spear I mean....), so what does his death as a knight really accomplish for his character besides, “it’s TRADITIONAL! Redemption = only DEATH! Knightly honor = only DEATH!” (I can feel myself going down a rabbit hole by wanting to talk about the hand chop so I’m going to stfu now because this is getting ridiculously long.)

“GoT has been inconsistent in the past and sometimes they do things that make no sense.”

I know, and it’s still entirely possible the execution of this story is trash and everything was pointless. That argument could apply to literally everything I say in this post. But at the same time, GoT is shit at being subtle, and when they want to drive a point or theme home, they do, even if it’s sloppy. (and yeah, like mentioned, I see this in the books as well... I’m not basing my opinion entirely on the show. It’s just if I add book bits on here, it’s going to get even more boring than it currently is lol.)

“Gin, sorry, I just disagree with you.”

That’s okay! It’s possible I end up changing my mind 50 more times, based off of the info coming in. Guys, I just think this story can be DIFFERENT. I’m so goddamn tired of the same, predictable narratives. And also because, like I said, I see potential set up for survival. I see all of the different interpretations. I’m tired of seeing people act all arrogant, like the answer is already there, when I see evidence for at least the possibility of something different.

Like we can’t even fucking discuss his survival in fandom, and if someone even BREATHES it they’re called delusional or in denial, even by their fellow JB shippers. NO? I just see multiple paths and interpretations?? And... to make it even more confusing I’ve been receiving optimistic hints that have raised my hopes??????? Fuck, I’m basically a victim here because I had been comfortable assuming the worst lol.

I’m legit procrastinating on posting this because I have anxiety putting it out there. Discussion of his survival is that unpopular.

#jaime x brienne #brienne of tarth #I totally just talked to myself throughout the entire post #and #I warned you it would be long haha #..#.#got spoilers #got s8 spoilers #jaime lannister

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stayatsam · 6 years ago

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1 6 8 and 18 for the dnd thing! Love your art to death btw

OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

1. A favorite character you have played.

oh jeez!! ive played a lot of boys lol

my favorite mechanics wise was Gatz my hexblade warlock! warlocks are my favorite class and so far its been my favorite patron!

in terms of story though it has to be Ricky !

Ricky underwent the most character development I’ve ever had in a character. He was my character for Curse of Strahd! He started out as a morally ambiguous warlock who made a blood pact with a fiend but as the game progressed he learned to be a better person, fell in love, and awakened as a sorcerer! After everything was over he converted the vampire’s castle into a university and he’s the headmaster there! he also bonded with a kid named Viktor during the campaign and became his magical mentor and got married to a wereraven innkeeper named Irwin!!! im so proud of ricky

6. Favorite death (monster, player character, NPC, etc).

oh god definitely how we killed Strahd. idk how much people know about curse of strahd but he’s a like very powerful vampire. we had this thing where we got the priests of the land and our cleric to start making a TON of holy water that we put in a wagon and brought to the castle. and my character Ricky had brushed very closely with Strahd and almost turned evil for him, and has been an all around morally grey character (whos alignment had turned good by the end though!) and we tricked strahd into thinking i had killed the rest of the party as an offering using the feign death spell. so once i was willingly allied with strahd, ricky used dimenson door to teleport him into the holy water, and used shape water to make it running water and POOF strahd just kinda evaporated within one turn.

8. Your favorite fight/encounter.

this was two years ago very early in my first campaign but my roommate’s character Antinua and my character Petyr had grown very close to a couple of orphaned orc children and had kept them with us. and an orphanage in the orc city wanted to take them from us but when we went there we got into an argument with the woman running the orphanage who actually turned out to be a (young) dragon that was doing something with the kids we never figured out what. So we had to fight and slay the dragon it was really cool, and also our first deadly encounter (that we somehow survived). and then we got to official adopt the orc kids!

18 answered!

#sam crying #kimodraw

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faangirl101 · 7 years ago

Text

Reunited, volume one, Tom holland x reader

REUNITED MASTERLIST

Pairing: Tom holland x reader

marvelousimaginesforyou asked: Hi! Can you Write a Tom Holland Imagine where the Reader and him met when they were twelve and he was fifteen, they haven‘t seen each other since, then they come on set or meets him and the others at a Bar, and it becomes obvious that he trinke they’ve become very hot (Reader 18 Tom 21) and the Reader thinks the same about him and the other actors Tease Tom about it until he asks the reader out?

Author note: I hope you like it, if you want to be on the taglist message me and stay cool. Sorry for grammer btw

“How did you even get a job there?”, Iza asked while grabbing the cigarette package from her back pocket. The smile covering my face the whole day just grew “pure accident, i was walking past my old teacher, you know miss Andrews, and she told me they were hiring extras to play in this movie. Her husband is shooting this huge movie, for marvel”. Iza smacked her lips together “wow, big shot, how much to you get”. I shrugged looking past the rooftop at the sky painted in purple and blue. “You know”, Iza brought a cigarette to her ajar lips “i think this is a big opportunity for you”. I roll my eyes even if i can't help but to feel my heart beat harder “come on, Izzy, its not like i have a line”. She protected the flame of the lighter with her hand as she lit her cig. “I know”, she dragged in a sharp breath of the smoke “but all actors start small”. I rest my head on top of her shoulder as i smack my heel against the wall beneath me. I shrugged again as i dragged in a breath of her shirt. Smoke and the free peppermints from her work. “I'm excited for you”, Izzy dropped the small amount of paper from the cig that was left. I watch it wander around the air like a leaf stuck in a storm, before being put out and swallowed by the ground under us. “Yeah”, I yawned as i buried myself deeper in her shoulder an closed my eyes “you should”. She chuckled and brought a string out of my face. And with her hand stroking my hair, i fell asleep there on the rooftop in my best friends arms.

“Tom?”, i asked in surprise “is that you?”. Tom chuckled, his hand stroking down his spider man hoodie “the one and only”. I yelped out of happiness and wrapped my arms around his neck. He smelled like i remembered, like nana's homemade chocolate chip cookies and the axe spray he stole from his dad. “I thought”, i stammered as i met his brown eyes “i thought you were moving before summer break”. He smiled, shoving of the aperture between his front teeth “My mom said we were going to stay for summer break, Spend the last summer with nana before moving up state”. A sadness hugged my heart tightly again, making it almost hard to breath. I tried to hold back tears as i ran into his arms again “i.. i don't want you to leave, Tommy, please don't leave”. He buried his face in my braided hair, pretending he didn't have a wetness threatening behind his eyes as well. He was fifteen for god's sake, he wasn't supposed to cry about… a twelve year old girl…. Even if it was y/n, his nanas neighbor that he grown to love since the first time he met her. Well he didn't like-like her, that would be weird, but she was like a sister to him in the end of the day. “Trust me”, he whispered against her new pierced ear “i don't want to leave… but we are always going to be friends… We can send letters!”. I nod, still afraid to let the hug go. We only had summer break together until he was gone… maybe he would visit nana once in a while, but he was probably not going to wanna hang out with me when he turned 16. I was still just a kid in his eyes. A tear slipped down my cheek, wetting his hoodie “please don't stop liking me”. He kissed my forehead sweetly “never”.

“Big day”, i mumbled or myself as i walked into the huge building. I was mentally preparing myself. I just turned 18, just graduated, just rented a small apartment with Izzy and just got my first legit small job. Well, it was only for like a week, but was still bigger than anything i had before. I just couldn't mess this up, i wouldn't… right? “All extras, get to the building c”, i hear a man voice echoed through the speakers in the corner of the building. People are moving hurried around be, dragging around costumes and wagons. My heart was beating loud in my ears as i felt anxiety grow in my throat. Where the fuck was building C then? I should ask somebody. “Excuse me, sir”, i mumbled to one of the huge guys at the building centre “building c?”. He smiled at me, turning his entire face to a baby's one as he pointed behind me. “Thank you so much!”, i gave him the nicest smile i had as i grasped on to the bag at my side. Everything was going to be fine, nothing was going to go wrong. I tried convincing myself as much as i could while trying to control my trembling hands. “Are you an extra?”, someone asked behind me and i turned around. A small girl, at least a head shorter than me, smiled at me. I nodded as my mouth suddenly felt to dry to speak. “That way” she nodded against a big group of people sitting at benches put up like a square in the middle of the room. “Thanks”, i whispered with barely even moving my lips as i moved towards the benches. It calmed my rapid heartbeat when i saw that everybody was equally nervous as me, bobbing their legs upside down and looking around with flickering eyes. I sat down, crossing my legs while slowly leaning back.There was a lot of people here, most of them around my age, and i suddenly felt more calm. I blended in here, everything was going to okay. It passed a good half hour of me scrolling through my phone while biting my lip nervously. Another 10m minutes passed and i could almost taste everybody's anxiety in the room. Finally, after 10 more minutes, the short girl stopped in the middle of the square before clapping her hands together. The sudden sound was very effective as the entire room fell quiet. “So”, her voice was to dark for her appearance “you are all extras here today. We will tell you later what you should do, but first we should move to where the shooting is taking place. Come with me”. The entire group of people, which most have been at least 30, got up in a hurry. I grasped onto my bag next to me before throwing it over my shoulder. This was going to be awesome.

“Here”, The short women, who now was wearing a headset covering half of her head, stuck her hand out to me “you there, are you okay with saying a line?”. i felt eyes being turned to me as i swallowed thickly. I had to jump on this opportunity but i… i was honestly scared i wasn't going to be able to speak normally with the lump in my throat. “Yeah”, i smiled, biting the inside of my cheeks hard enough to draw blood. “Great”, she clapped her hand together “all you have to do is hold this handbag and that guy over there will take it from you. All you have to say is ‘hey! he’s robbing me’ and then the cameras are going to be off you so you don't have to so anything. Spiderman is going to return and give back your bag, look thankful and say ‘thanks’. Is that clear? can you do that”. I nodded a little to fast as she looked me up and down judgemental. There's something about the small women i couldn't put my words on. She was like a small flower, delicate and all that until you try to touch it only to get poisoned. “In positions people”, she made a circular motion with her finger as i saw her backside disappear behind the camera crew. My knuckles was turning white from holding the hand bag tightly in my hand. Come on Y/n, its one line, no big deal. “Aaaaaaand”, i heard a clear click, a metal sound falling back into place “shoot”.Calm. I'm calm. With her signal, like dropping meat in front of an animal, i move. Calm. Moving camly. Everything is going to be alright. I could feel the movement of the camera as it followed my posture, but i decided to ignore it. My body was ripped into the action when the man grasped onto my hand bag. My sweaty fingers slipped, leaving me tumbling forward. He pulled a lot harder than i thought, leaving my shoulder arching in pain. Surprised, i turned around to look at everybody around me, did anybody honestly see how hard he pulled. I opened my mouth, stammering over my words “he…. “. I looked back to where the man stood to see him standing outside the shot, his eyes urging me on. Right… the scene. “Hey! he’s robbing me”. My voice come out raspy, almost grabbed in panic as my mouth falls open mostly for effect. Then all the pressure drops from my shoulders as the camera rolls out of my view to follow the “robber”. My hands are shaking, my lungs pumping our adrenaline to my goosebumped covered skin. Calm. Everything was going to be fine. All panic come rushing back in waves when the camera is turned back on me, standing in the middle of the street. I bet my cheeks are blossomed, maybe even swollen in a blush. In front of me was spiderman. Well, a full grown man, dressed in a awfully tight spiderman costume. i wanted to laugh out loud as i desperately bit my lip to hold it back. I mean, the guy looked good, from where i was standing. Muscles, he probably worked hard for, was clear through the material, and he had a great ass… I blushed even more. Jesus y/n“Miss!”, the man, who actually sounded more like a boy spoke “your bag”. That voice. It was like putting a song on a wrecked vinyl…. i knew the song but it wasn't completely like i remembered it. I couldn't even put a title on the “song”. I must have seen him in a movie, somewhere, It was familiar, on the back of my tongue desperalty urging me to remember. But nothing. My mind was blank as i continued to stare at the costumed dressed guy. Oh shit, i almost forgot the scene i was shooting. “T-thanks”, i stammered as i reached out for the bag. My hand accidently come in contact with his. The rough material of the suit rub against my fingertips as i look down to hide my blush. He nods to me, stays for a moment in hesitation, then he start to move. I drop the breath weighting on top of my chest. Finally this scene is over. “Wait”, i called without even realizing i opened my mouth “Who are you?”. The guy in the suit turn his head over his shoulder. I can almost see his eyes squeezing shut behind the mask. “I'm ….. um spiderman”, a smile, i guessed as i saw his mask twitch “your friendly neighbourhood spiderman”. I stand still in shock. Was he one of those actors who actually thought he was his character? or was he…My thoughts was interrupted by the small women yelling “and cut”. Cut? oh no. The scene wasn't finished, and i just ruined it with all my “who are you” talk. The guy wasn't weird he was just doing his job and kept character. The women moved towards me in harsch steps, i felt like a kid in trouble when i saw her eyes. I couldn't judge her emotions, it looked like it was just a mix of everything turning to nothing. “That trick you pulled”, she arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms “not cool, You're just and extra and do as i say, okay? but it was good, and we don't have to reshoot the scene. For this time”. I was stuck in disbelieve and confusing as she leaves me behind here. This was all too much for me to process.

I collected my things, my fingers still shaking. I had to start controlling my emotions, jesus.I was 18 and wanted to work as an actor but couldn't even handle being an extra. I was disappointed in myself, really. “Hey”, the spiderman dude came in view. I sighed and reached up my hand to shake some life in my hair “okay, dude, I know i messed up the scene. M´sorry, i was nervous”. I swear if he looked surprised under the mask, as it moved with his emotions. “Oh no, i think you were great”, he said, his voice clinging in a strong british accent “Mrs Morswin can be quite harsc, if you ask me”. I look him up and down now when i have time to really study him. The suit was tight enough to be spandex, hugging his curves in a way making my blush turn a grisom color. “Thanks”, i let my head roll to the side “You're british”. The way i said it came out as an question even if it was a statement. He nodded before taking something that sounded like a nervous breath “This is a super weird question but do you go to Bronx High School of Science? I regonzie you, love”. The nickname makes butterflies start to crowd in the depths of my abdomen. I shook my head before biting my lip “london?”. His hand landed on top of the table next to me as he leaned closer to me “southwest of london”. I can't hide my surprise as my my jaw dropped “no way? me to, Im from wimbledon”. I hear a gasp from under the mask as he practically fall from his stance in surprise “That's close to where i grew up ,kingston upon thames. Wimbledon College, you?”. I smile and throw the bag over my shoulder once again “Ursuline High School, i used to have friends from Wimbledon college”. He leans even closer, and i can practically feel his body heat radiant over to me “no way, who?, maybe i know them”. I open my mouth, just about to answer his question when a loud yell interrupts me. “Tom! we need you on set”, Mrs Morswin, the short womens, voice echoes through the hall. Tom? Memories hit me like a bus, causing me to grab tightly on to the table for support. The words that been racing at the tip of my tongue finally makes sense. The Spiderman dude was freaking Tom holland. I practically grew up with this guy in front of me. Tom freaking Holland.”Tom”, i whisper for myself but he dont hear it as he turn his head to answer the women. Before i can control my actions i reach out to slowly grasp onto his mask. His head turns to me in surprise as i with shaking fingertips slowly drags the mask of the boys head. The face under the red spandex is painted in shook. His brown curls are finally released and bounce down the side of his face. A pair of familiar chestnut eyes makes eye contact with me and it looks like, both of our eyes blow up in regonizment. “Tommie?”, i shriek, my voice breaking of excitement. “Y/n?”, He asked, still unsure like if he really can't see its me. My heart aches and i can practically feel tears coming. tom holland got pretty, really pretty. His eyes was the same, glistening with joy in a childlike way. But he rest of him? got so much better. The space between his front teeth was long gone and ws now a white perfect smile. His body, which i already kind of studied through his suit, got ripped. His abs was well visible through the tight material as well as the bugle in his pants. I never thought the day where i was attracted to my childhood friend would come but, here we are. I step into his arms, the suit rubbing against my tank top. My head rests on top of his chest, right under his shoulder. He smells like…. like cologne and…. nanas cookies. He still smells like nanas cookies. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, my arms wrapped around his body prisoning it close to mine. “Y/n”, he mumbles as he embrace me and breath out the breath he's been holding since the removal of his mask. “You still smell like nana's cookies”, i mumble, not even sure why i said it out loud. He lets out a breathless laugh, his entire body vibrating against mine. “bloody hell”, his hand caress my spine through my shirt “i miss those”. Even if my body screams in disappointment i let go of his warm body. We both look in eachothers eyes and for a moment it doesn't feel like its been 6 years since the last time i saw him”. He smiles at me, an adorable smile which lights up his entire face. “Tom”, i look him up and down even if i know he sees it “you got ripped, lad”. He laughs again, purely just like when we were kids “yeah, the bollock up in marvel want me to look like the bloody rock. And you… y/n, you look really…. gorgeous”. A blush, the strongest one today, took over my face and well…. my entire body. I smiled, showing my teeth at the same time. “Well”, i look down at my feet “it's been six years”. “yeah”, he muttered under his breath while weighting forward and backward on his heels. We stood there, in a silence so pushing it felt like i was just becoming smaller and smaller ever second passing. “well”, he finally broke the silence “i have to go, have another scene to shoot for today. But, here, put in your number”. He fished up his phone from his back where he'd been hiding it. He reached it out for me after in a hurry unlocking it. I saw the background he had of him and a blue staffy. I loved pitbull dogs. And i loved dudes with dogs, so this was just great. I took the phone from his and “accidentally”, touched his hand in the process. From the back of my mind i tapped down my phone number under the contact “y/n, cute girl from your nanas next door”. He chuckled at the name as he closed the phone with the familiar clicking sound. “So”, he smiled one last time “i hope i'll see you around?”. I nodded, completely lost for words. He nodded one last time as he started to walk away. I let out the nervous breath i'm been holding for the passed seconds. Was i really over here catching feeling for a guy i haven't talked to in 6 years. I saw the posture of his spiderman suit stop, standing its place. Then, in the matter of seconds, so fast i can't understand what's happening, he's back in front of me. “I missed you y/n”, he mumbles, his eyes flicking over my face likes he’s savouring every detail. The last thing he does before taking off down the hall is leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on top of my forehead. Then… with that i see him disappear from my sight, getting smaller and smaller like an ant. My hand automatically end up on my forehead where Toms kiss was placed. My finger trace the mark of his lips as i can feel my heart beating faster. I was falling in love with Tom holland, and there was absolutely nothing i could to about it.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #spider man x reader #spider-man: homecoming #spider man #reader #tom x reader #peter parker #peter #spider #spiderman #teen tom holland #teen tom x teen reader #teen reader #fluff #tommy #cute

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arnoxjacob · 7 years ago

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Thank you all for 50+ followers! <3

Okay.. Celebrating a bit late but better late than never! First of all darkcrystal made this lovely drawing, and we wrote a oneshot to thank all the followers who joined us for the past two weeks! We honestly never expected to reach so much!

An Vampire Arno X Werewolf Jacob AU. We hope you like it! (BTW, Arno's nickname for Jacob is hard to explain... We came up with it about the first or second fic we wrote about those two and kind of rolled with it since)

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Rate: M

"Here we go princess.." I said as I carried Jacob to his bed and dropped him on it. He groaned as he got comfortable on the bed. I could feel the slight movements of the wagon as I looked down at him. Jacob looked exhausted. I couldn't blame him, it was a rough mission. I stretched, sighing heavily. Jacob usually had a lot of spirit in him. I couldn't keep up with him most of the time. He was eager to get a new mission, to get into another fight, to do anything but sit in the train and wait until a mission by will fall on him.

I sat on the edge of his bed, brushing his messy hair into order. "You poor thing..." I mumbled and pressed a kiss on his head. Jacob turned his head to look at me, meeting with his beautiful green eyes. "I'm tired..." He mumbled and yawned.

I smiled softly, moving my hand lower to stroke his cheek. I was no less tired than him, the mission wasn't one of the easiest I ever had. But sometimes this guy needed attention even when he falling asleep, so I had to stay awake longer than him. "Then go to sleep." Jacob shook his head and hugged me, burying his face in my chest. I continued to brush his hair, my left hand slowly moving down on his neck, causing him to shiver.

This guy… For a straightforward gangster he sure didn't act like this when it was just the two of us. Or when he was as tired as he is now. "Then what is it?" "Attention..." I heard him mumble. I smiled and pressed another kiss on his head as I brought him closer to myself. "Get some rest love..." I said softly and covered the both of us with a blanket. I heard him saying a quiet 'G'night.' before I fell asleep myself.

"-rno! Arno! Wake up already!" I groaned as I felt Jacob shaking me. I simply turned around, telling him to let me sleep for five more minutes. I groaned again as I felt a pillow hitting me. Jacob gasped as I grabbed his arms, standing on top of him. "Well, you got my full attention now princess."

"Good." He smiled at me, lifting himself to place a kiss over my lips. He sure regained his energy fast for a guy who made me carry him back to the train a few hours ago, complaining he 'wouldn't make it' because he's too tired. He really was a spoiled princess. "Now, what do you want?" I asked him. I hate it when he wakes me up like that. "I want attention.." He said, looking straight into my eyes with his hazel-green ones. "I've already told you that..." "Attention huh...?" I said softly as I started to play with one of his furry ears, it felt so soft... Jacob leaned to my touch, clearly enjoying that.

I could see him smiling, his eyes closed. It's a shame, I really love his eyes. I can stare into them for hours. "Arno..." Jacob mumbled softly, arching his neck a bit. I pressed a few soft kisses over his neck, his skin had a faded sweet taste, not to say his scent. It could easily drive me crazy. I pressed another soft kiss on his neck before I sunk in my fangs, starting to lick and suck the blood. I heard Jacob moaning softly my name, his tail was wiggling beneath me. How could the most feared gangster in London act so cute? It sometimes felt like a completely different Jacob. A Jacob only I could see. "Arno.." Jacob mumbled again as I moved away from his neck, licking the remains of his blood off my lips. I grabbed his chin between my thumb and finger, making him to look at me. I brushed my thumb over his lower lip, his lips felt so soft... He looked straight at me, his eyes not moving away. "What do you want, princess...?" I asked again in a whisper-like voice.

"You..." He said quietly and I kissed him deeply. He moaned into the kiss as I made it deeper, our fangs were clashing against each other. I felt one of his hands moving down on my back as my free hand was moving up on his chest. There's the straight forward guy I first met and fell for.

Jacob decided to take matters into his own hands and made the kiss deeper, attacking my mouth with his own. His hands blindly reached for my shirt and took it off me, throwing it somewhere aside. "Wow... easy there.." Jacob obviously didn't listen and started to press kisses on my jaw line down to my neck and from there to my chest. "Jacob, behave." I warned him as I grabbed his arms again and pinned them down to the mattress. He winced, looking at me with a hurt expression over his face. "It's not fair." He pouted, trying to fight against my grip. "You are unfair, Arno Dorian." "I'm the unfair one? You're unbelievable." I said and quickly scanned his body before looking back at his face. I noticed the amused smirk on his face. This damn wolf will be the dead of me one day. Jacob gasped as I suddenly leaned down and kissed him deeply. My right hand was holding his both arms above his head as my left hand moved down to unbutton his vest.

This guy knows exactly how to make me do exactly what he wanted to, and I can't believe I'm really letting him get away with this. But I like him... more than anything. "It's taking you too long..." I heard him complain as he moved a bit beneath me. "Take those clothes off me already." “Be a bit more patient…” I sighed amused, watching as he gave me an un-amused expression. Right. If there was one thing Jacob Frye was incapable of it was being patient. I let go of his arms in order to remove his clothes a bit faster. The vest went first, then his red scarf and then his white shirt, leaving only skin. I took my time to look at his body, one of my hands moved over his tattoos. If there was one thing I learned to appreciate, it was Jacob's body. All his training of combat sure paid off. Watching him fight against targets was one of the most hypnotizing things I ever seen. "Too slow..." Jacob complained again, gaining my attention, "let me do it." He moaned softly as I pinched one of his nipples. That's also a way to make him shut up.

I looked at him, placing a few kisses over his lips. Slowly, I made my way to his jaw line and from there to his neck. He didn't say another word but I knew he'll complain again soon about something. And in what right? He woke me up, I should be the one complaining. I listened as Jacob let out soft moans while my lips worked on his chest, marking his skin. "Arno...!" He gasped as I bit a spot on his chest with my teeth, starting to suck it, adding another pressure with my tongue. Once I was done there was a dark mark left. I smiled to myself and kissed the way back up to his collar bones, making another dark mark and another one on his neck where was the bite mark from my fangs. "Not fair..." I heard Jacob mumble as he arched his neck to my actions. I pressed soft kisses over the marks I left, moving up to his ear. The brit shivered beneath me. "So... what would my princess want now?" I whispered to him amused, gently starting to massage his right thigh. This action earned another soft moan from him, his ears bent down and a slight blush covered his face as he looked at me with begging eyes.

'Mon dieu...' I thought to myself. Jacob Frye was definitely my weakness. I kissed him before moving lower to his stomach, leaving my marks over it as well. I couldn't help but sink my fangs into his skin from time to time, causing small drops of blood flow out of my bite marks. I heard him moan again as one of my hands moved down to his crotch area. "My, princess." I said amused as I lifted my eyes to look at him. "Shut up, you pervert French." He pouted. I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief. Jacob was sure not an easy one, but trying to cool him down was part of the fun. I rubbed his crotch through his pants another few times before moving my hand away and focusing on taking off his pants. Jacob arched his back a bit, letting me to slide off his pants with ease together with his underwear. He shivered lightly as I gently moved one of my fingers down over his body to his lower stomach. An amused smile came to my face as I sat on the bed and unbuttoned my own pants. "Suck." I told him as I looked into his eyes. His eyes scanned my face as his cheeks got a deeper and deeper shade of pink. How cute. Without saying a word, Jacob changed his position. I watched him, my finger scratching behind one of his ears. Slowly, he leaned lower and soon I felt his lips over my length. I closed my eyes as I moaned in pleasure, my beautiful spoiled princess sure knew how to work with his mouth.

Although I didn't see it, I could tell Jacob's tail was moving from side to side. It sometimes amused me that his ears and tail were more honest than he was. I moaned again as Jacob sucked harder, moving his head up and down. "Fuck Jacob..." Jacob gasped around my member as I grabbed into his hair and pulled him up into a kiss. His arms instantly were around my neck as he kissed back, pulling me closer to himself. I wrapped my own arms around his waist getting him as close to myself as I could. "Arno..." He panted against my lips, pressing another few kisses against them. "Hurry before I'll-" Feeling a threat, I cut him with another kiss, making him lie back down as I leaned over him. I lifted one of his legs, leaving a trail of kisses on his inner thigh. He gasped as I sunk in my fangs in his skin again, making blood to drip down which I licked away. "Bloody hell, Dorian..." He hissed at me. I smiled to myself, pressing another few soft kisses over his skin before paying my full attention back to him. I guess I teased him enough. I placed my fingers against his lips which he took into his mouth, starting to lick and suck them. He moaned as my other hand started to stroke him.

I didn't take my eyes off him for a second. His eyes were closed, one of his hands was holding into mine as he wetted my fingers while the other held into the pillow beneath his head. His back was arched and it seemed like he was holding back from rocking his hips forward. "Such a good boy.." I whispered amused in his ear, starting to move my hand a bit faster. Jacob moved my hand away, closing his eyes tighter as he moaned in pleasure. I wasted no time and placed one of his legs back over my shoulder to keep it up as I inserted the first finger while he was distracted. Jacob let out a displeased noise but didn't say a thing. I took it as a sign to continue before carefully inserting a second finger in. I watched his reactions as I started to move them, he winced and grabbed into his pillow again, his eyes still close. Such a shame, I want to see his look. "Open your eyes, Jacob." I told him. He shook his head, letting out a frustrated groan as I removed my hand from his dick. "I hate you..." He breathed out, catching his breath. "I won't ask again." Bit by a bit Jacob gathered the courage to open his eyes, looking straight at me as the colour of his cheeks turned from dark pink to red. "What?" I smiled and leaned down to kiss him as I inserted in the last finger. Jacob held into me, letting out noises of discomfort. I pressed one more kiss over his lips before pressing one over his nose and forehead as well, moving my fingers through his hair to comfort him. After something that felt like a minute I finally heard him moaning in pleasure, closing his eyes again as he leaned his head back on the pillow. "I told you to look at me Jacob." I said as I moved my fingers, hitting the spot over and over. He moaned louder with each time. Blindly, Jacob placed a hand over the back of my neck and pulled me down for a kiss, his moans becoming muffled at once. He bit and sucked into my lips, his fangs inches away from piercing through them. But Jacob did no such thing.

I pulled my fingers out, slowly moving my hands over his waist. Jacob used his foot to attempt and slide my pants lower, clearly impatient. "Alright, alright. You've been a really good boy." I smiled amused as I lifted his legs and carefully pulled in. Jacob held into me, taking deep breaths as he adjusted to me. I held him close, pressing soft kisses over his neck and ear to calm him a bit. He soon gave me a nod, quietly mumbling my name. I kissed him before starting to thrust, keeping a slow pace at first. He moaned softly, grabbing into the bed sheets beneath him as his tail wiggled.

Bit by a bit, I began thrusting faster, watching the Brit's reaction. Jacob didn't seem to mind at all. He moaned louder with each time, holding tighter into the sheets. I leaned closer to him, placing more marks over his neck. "You're abusing my neck." He said amused. A second afterwards he moaned loudly as I started to thrust harder. "Should I stop...?" "Don't ..." Jacob warned, wrapping his arms around me now. His nails sunk into my skin as I hit just the right spot, causing him moan in pure pleasure. "Don't you dare stopping now." Jacob hissed at me again. "Oui, mon amour." I said amused and kissed him. Jacob moaned loudly in pleasure, I just hope he won't wake up Evie. He can get so loud sometimes. Jacob ended burying his face in my shoulder, trying to muffle his voice. I could tell he was close to reaching his climax.

Without a warning, Jacob bit into my arm, holding into me as if his life depends on it as he came. After a few more thrust I came inside of him. We both panted as I gently pulled out and collapsed next to him on the bed. Jacob hugged me, his tongue licking away the blood which was dripping from the bite he left. I started brushing his hair, pressing a soft kiss over his head. "Leave it..." He nodded and rested his head on my chest as I covered us with the blanket again. "So, did you get your attention?" I asked him, Jacob chuckled and pressed a soft kiss on my lips. "Not quite..." He smiled in amusement, looking straight into my eyes. "What else could you possibly want?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. "Well, having you go naked into a Blighter's territory might be funny." He said, "but a simple 'I love you' could be nice, you arse."

#Assassin's Creed #assassin's creed unity #Assassin's Creed Syndicate #arno dorian #jacob frye #Fanart #arno x jacob #arno x jacob fanfic #oneshot #yaoi #french fryes #Jano

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