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owl-with-a-pen · 3 years

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Kara had been putting on a brave face all afternoon. Alex figured it would have been a little more obvious to everyone had it not been for the fact that they all were.

Each of them had been affected by the Phantom’s fear visions to some degree, but in typical Super Friends fashion, they’d found the remedy to those fears in each other’s company.

It almost felt too normal, gathering at Kara’s apartment, playing board games, eating and drinking, laughing and pretending that the last few weeks had been nothing but a bad dream.

Nothing was that easy, though, no matter how hard they tried. After all, it didn’t escape Alex that Lena had more than overindulged in her fair share of scotch since her arrival, or that Nia had practically remained glued to Brainy’s side the whole afternoon, fiddling with the life projectors beneath his shirt as they lay curled against each other on the couch. Brainy held her just as tightly in return, as though he was afraid to let her go. It was clear he was way more on edge than normal, hyper-aware of his surroundings, startling at just about any loud noise. So much so that the pop from the champagne cork earlier that day had very nearly sent him reeling right out of the room. After that, Alex had put the group on a strict twist off cap rule for any future bottles that were to be opened in Brainy’s presence.

Alex knew that Kelly had seen something awful there as well, but her girlfriend had been doing everything to keep the morale of the team boosted, instead assuring her that she was working through it on her own terms, and that she wanted Alex to feel comfortable talking to her about her own nightmare as well.

As much as Alex wanted to take Kelly up on that offer - right now - sitting there with her friends, drink in hand and her sister’s head resting on her shoulder… this was how she was getting by. She didn’t need to talk it out, at least not in that moment. Being in the presence of her family, feeling the soft fibres of Kara’s cardigan between her fingers, this was more than enough to keep her fears at bay.

But, she knew that Kara was struggling.

Despite the strength Kara was trying desperately to maintain, Alex could see the strain behind every smile. Even now she was home safe, decked in sweats and curled up under her favourite blanket, it didn’t take from the fact that whatever she’d seen in the Phantom Zone still lived within her. Providing all the comforts in the world wasn’t going to change that.

Still, having a chance to focus on family, junk food and stupid card games was at least beginning to alleviate some of the tension in the room. By the time day rolled into night, the laughter they shared together felt that much more genuine, and Alex was even able to goad Kara into a very competitive, high-stakes game of Trivial Pursuit.

Brainy and Nia won, not like the room stood much of a chance against a twelfth-level intellect who had also taken the opportunity of studying even more pop-culture references since his stint in 2009. But, with the alcohol running through everyone’s systems, the match had been closer than any one before it.

Eventually though, it was time for the Super Friends to head home for the evening. Well, everyone apart from Alex. She’d been pretty clear from the moment game night had been proposed that there was no way in hell she was leaving her sister alone that night.

If anything, Kara had seemed relieved at the idea. Alex knew she was still processing everything that had happened, but the horrors of that place were still fresh on her mind. Maybe she hadn’t been alone, maybe she had found family along the way, but that didn’t take from the awful things Kara had witnessed, even with her father at her side.

Alex wasn’t sure what to think of Zor-El quite yet. J’onn had given him a place to crash at the Tower while he gathered his bearings on Earth, and she knew he’d likely be contacting Argo very soon with the news of his survival. Kara hadn’t spoken much about her father since getting back, but then again, she’d spoken so little about her time in the Phantom Zone that Alex didn’t think it strange. She was looking to move past this.

They all were.

Just… moving past it wasn’t going to be as easy as they were hoping for. Kelly was already trying to encourage everyone into a group session to talk things out, although the bottle of wine she’d toted had probably made her sound a little too eager about the idea at the time. In any case, Alex hadn’t missed how Kara had shrunk into the sofa at the suggestion, or how quickly she’d diverted the subject before Kelly had a chance to go into any details.

She’d have to talk to someone eventually, and privately Alex hoped that Kara might let her in. Since Brainy and Nia had gone back in time, Alex couldn’t help but fall back to those years when she’d left Kara behind for college, how anchored she’d still felt to her sister’s life even from miles away. There were times she’d blamed Kara for everything in her life that wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t take from the moments, however small, where things had been just that.

Perfect.

The longer Kara had spent in Midvale, the more she’d opened up about her home world. Alex had found the topic all kinds of uncomfortable at first, serving as yet another reminder that she was responsible for this alien tween that had somehow stumbled into their lives, disturbing her otherwise normal existence. But, Kara had been able to fill every one of her stories about Krypton with such wonder. Even when she hadn’t been fully confident with English, she’d still managed to describe her planet with such passion that Alex could even imagine those great glass spires for herself, could see the vast cities that glimmered in the distance from Kara’s old bedroom window.

Kara had never managed to get through one of those stories without crying.

Alex could still remember clambering over to Kara’s bed in the dead of night, bundling her adopted sister in her arms, expecting it to feel so alien, so wrong. But, it hadn’t. If anything, it had been the most natural thing in the world.

She’d whispered to her then, rocking her, telling her oh so gently that everything would be okay.

Kara had believed her every time.

Now, though?

Now, Alex wasn’t so sure.

Once the party disbanded, neither one of them had the energy to say much to each other, but that didn’t matter. Sharing one another’s space was more than enough. Assuring Kara that she wasn’t alone tonight - that was enough. It had to be.

When Kara headed to bed, Alex set about making herself comfortable on the couch, curling beneath the duvet that Kara had left out for her.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, which only made it all the more alarming when she was suddenly jerked awake some hours later.

Alex’s throat was dry, and there was a crick in her neck where she’d been lying awkwardly across the sofa’s arm. She groaned out, raising her hands in a half-assed defensive stance that would have been way more threatening had she actually had a firearm to grab a hold of and not a medium sized throw pillow.

“Alex?”

Kara’s voice, trailing feebly in the dark. Alex blinked, finding her sister’s bright eyes staring at her in the dim setting of the apartment. Even with no visible source of light, they still managed to shimmer, like tiny beams of sunlight had been captured within her irises.

“Hey,” Alex managed, clearing her throat with some effort. She frowned, reaching for her sister’s arm. “Are you okay?”

Kara’s lips trembled into a weak smile. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted.

“Figures,” Alex said, noting the state of her sister’s hair. It was tied up into a messy bun that had clearly fallen victim to Kara’s violent tossing and turning habit. Alex forced herself into a half decent sitting position, glancing towards the kitchen. “What d’you think, will tea and honey cut it?” she asked, feigning a dramatized yawn. “Or, do we have to pull out the big guns?”

Kara’s smile widened. “Oh, big guns for sure.”

“Hot cocoa it is.” Alex grinned. “You can boil the water.”

---

Ten minutes later, Alex found herself sat on Kara’s bed, legs crossed as she nursed her piping mug of hot cocoa, enhanced with a generous splash of whiskey. Kara did the same, taking a sip before she closed her eyes, leaning her back against the head rest.

“Oh Rao that’s good,” she murmured.

“Y’know, I think I’ve even improved upon mom’s recipe,” Alex mused. “The student becomes the teacher, or whatever.”

“Don’t tell Eliza that, she’ll kill you.”

Alex pulled a face. “God, never. She’ll take that recipe to her grave.”

Kara chuckled, sobering slightly. She pressed her lips together, staring down into her mug. “I missed this,” she murmured. “When I was… trapped there… everything felt so bleak. Like the world was trying to suck the happiness right out of me.” She shuddered, tightening her grip around her mug. “I tried to hold onto happy memories, the taste of my favourite foods, anything that’d keep me grounded. But, the longer I was there, the more I thought I’d never find that happiness again.” She breathed out sharply, forcing a smile. “That I’d never taste hot cocoa again.”

“I can’t imagine what it was like,” Alex said softly. “I mean… we were only there for a few hours and look how badly it affected us. You were there for weeks and I—” Alex choked, shaking her head. “Things got pretty bleak here, too. And, well, let’s just say I didn’t need a Phantom to start losing hope.”

“Alex-”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex said automatically. “So don’t you dare go apologising for this.”

“I- I wasn’t.”

Alex gave her sister a pointed look.

Kara’s face fell. She shifted uncomfortably, drawing her knees up towards her chest. “Okay, maybe… so maybe I was. But- I don’t know what else to say, Alex! I am sorry. Sorry any of this happened. That we lost each other.”

Again.

“We always find our way back,” Alex said firmly, pressing the warmth of her mug against her chin retrospectively. Her lips curled. “That might as well be the Danvers’ sisters motto at this point, right?”

Kara snorted into her own mug. “It’s got a ring to it.”

“We could make t-shirts.”

“Okay, that’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But you kinda love it, right?”

Kara’s nose crinkled when she grinned, one of those classic Kara smiles. So simple, so easy, as though she wasn’t holding the weight of the world on her shoulders at any given moment.

It didn’t last long, but when Kara looked back up at her, Alex thought that a little of the pain behind her eyes had begun to ease.

Then, Kara yawned.

Alex’s smile faded. “Okay, you really need to get some sleep.”

Kara bit her lip, glancing away. “I know. I just…” She blinked with a sudden revelation, turning back to Alex in the same motion. “Would you stay?” she asked impulsively, patting the sheets at her side. “Here, I mean. While I sleep? Like old times?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Alex said, already scooting over towards the empty space. “Of course I will.”

---

The last time Alex had laid in Kara’s bed, she’d been alone.

When the wound had still been fresh, her heart was so heavy that Alex had needed to feel Kara there with her somehow. She’d used the spare key to get inside, curling up beneath her sister’s sheets, still smelling of Kara’s watermelon shampoo, and hugged her pillow close to her chest, burying her face into the soft cotton.

Now, Kara lay at her side, and yet Alex still had to fight to prove to herself that this was real. That Kara was home.

She hadn’t told anyone about what the Phantom had showed her just yet - not even Kelly. To think how terrified she’d been of not being the first face that Kara saw, that somehow her stubbornness might ruin everything, that to get Kara back, she’d have to sacrifice herself, because it was her job as the older sister. Even when she’d faced those fears, when she’d chosen to let herself go to keep Kara safe, it didn’t take from the horrible all-consuming vacuum that had surrounded her. The unforgiving, ice cold chasm of space that had crushed her body the moment she’d been pulled from the ship’s sheild.

But, when Kara had barrelled through that door, Alex had seen her light at the end of the tunnel. When Kara had wrapped her arms around her, nearly forgetting her own strength, squeezing the breath right out from Alex’s lungs, her fears had all but evaporated alongside it. Instead, she’d only hugged her sister tighter in response, whispering nonsensical reassurances into Kara’s ear as she’d crumpled beneath the weight of everything she’d seen, breathing heavily into Alex’s throat.

Now, Alex ran her fingers through her sister’s hair, tugging the elastic out so that she could knot the blonde strands into loose plaits. She’d taught Kara how to braid her hair in a similar fashion when they’d been kids, playing with her hair for hours in front of the mirror, going through every style she could think of in some of her mom’s old magazines. Alex had never been a big fan of dressing up, but Kara had been so excited to learn about Earth fashion and Alex had been seldom to disappoint.

It wasn’t long before Kara relaxed into the gesture, her back curving against Alex’s chest as she sank deep against her pillow, pressing her face into it with a soft exhale.

Alex didn’t know what kind of nightmares Kara had faced the last time she’d fallen asleep, but she vowed that she’d do everything in her power to give her sister the peace of mind she deserved.

When Kara finally began to doze and soft snores escaped her lips, Alex wrapped her arms around her front, burying her face between her sister’s shoulder blades.

She was warm in her arms, solid and real. Alex could feel every rise and fall in Kara’s chest, could hear the steady rhythm of her pulse beating against her forehead.

The girl of steel had always needed to appear unbreakable to everyone, but what people rarely thought about was how that so often extended even to Kara Danvers. After all, it would be Kara Danvers, not Supergirl, who would be turning up at CatCo in the next few days, pretending as though she’d been out getting the scoop of the century.

No one outside of her family knew what she’d been through, and so none of them would offer her the proper time she needed to heal.

And, as much as it hurt, Alex knew that by tomorrow, Kara would already be flying around National City again, reassuring the world that Supergirl was still there for them all.

But, in small moments like this, Kara could at least let her guard down. She didn’t need to be anyone’s saviour right then. She was Kara Danvers, Kara Zor El. And at the heart of it, she was still Alex’s little sister. No matter what happened, nothing would ever change that.

Maybe she couldn’t protect her sister from whatever tomorrow brought with it, but she could make damn sure that not a single nightmare touched her tonight.

That would have to be enough.

#supergirl #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl season 6 #danvers sisters #kara danvers #alex danvers #kara zor el #6x07 #my writing #this might turn into a whole fic for mini chapters surrounding a bunch of character interactions in the aftermath of 6x07 #mostly because i rEALLY want to explore every angle of that SO. BAD.#so. if i do get the time for it stay tuned i guess.

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ladyfiresfanfiction · 4 years

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Tonight the World Dies - The Walking Dead Fic - Merle Dixon x OC

It all felt so hopeless.

She didn’t think she could go another day fighting through the walkers, worrying if she would lose what family she had left, and the people who had become her family. It had been a miracle in itself she had stumbled across the prison and had found her aunt. It broke her heart that she outlived her little cousin, the girl she had sworn she would look out for if she ever had the chance to find her and her aunt again.

Along the way she had grown close to several survivors in her aunt Carol’s group, and they had died protecting her or from misfortune. When she first stepped foot here almost four months to the day, she had thought it would be okay. Her blue-green eyes found life again. Her small pouty lips stretched into a smile. She loved everything; the smell of the rain, the hot sun shining down, the beautiful woods they were surrounded by.

But now, the rain reminded her of tears, the sun was hot and reminded her of the terrifying and prickling anxiety she always felt, and the woods were like a mauseoleum. It brought nothing but sadness and anger.

“Kati?” she heard her name called.

“Yes?” she mumbled sleepily, opening one eye to see Daryl looking at her from the doorway of her cell.

“’s two thirty. Ya wanna take watch with me?” he asked.

“I’m tired. I’m sorry. Raincheck?” she replied, glumly.

She saw he was disappointed, but nodded and walked off. She and Daryl had become very close. He was one of her best friends now, along with Maggie and Beth. She looked up to Hershel like her own daddy, and her aunt Carol doubled now as her mother. She was growing close to Carl, looking at him like a little brother, and she adored Judy. She even found Merle Dixon, Daryl’s brother, growing on her.

She couldn’t bear the thought of losing them. Watching them die some monstrous, blood soaked death. And for what? For her, maybe? No. She wouldn’t do it.

She found her old diary she had brought with her for old times sake, and a pen.

“To whomever finds this note,

I can’t do this anymore. I was more than blessed to find you all, and to spend four wonderful months with you. After losing Lori, T, and thinking back on family and friends I have lost before hooking up with you all, its drained me. I feel tired all the time, and think that my best option is to throw in the towel before I become lunch for one of those petulant, miserable monsters we see on a daily basis.

To my aunt Carol; I love you to death. You are strong and brave, and I only wish I could be more like you. I will miss you and be waiting on the other side.

To Daryl; You are a great friend. You watch yourself out there, and keep my aunt safe. I will miss you more than you know.

To Beth and Maggie; you girls have become my sisters. I grew up an only child and deeply wanted siblings, and here you two are. I know you will make it. Just stay safe.

Grimes family; Thank you for taking me in and looking at me as family. I will miss you. Rick, you are a great poppa, keep it up and keep everyone safe. Carl, you watch out for everybody, especially your sister. Tell Judy goodbye for me.

Hershel; Please don’t try to save me. You took up the role as my Daddy and I could never be more thankful that you have. I am blessed to have known you and have you care for me like I was one of your girls.

To everyone else; thank you for watching my back, for keeping me safe, and for giving me a reason to hold on as long as I did. I love you all and will see you soon.

Kati.”

She left it on her bed before grabbing her pocket knife that was a gift from Daryl, and finding the boiler room. She looked around, feeling an unbearable lump forming in her throat. She had always heard it was ‘across the street, not down the road" when people talked of slitting open their veins. Or had it been down the road, not across the street?

She sat on the ground in the middle of the room. There was a small window that let the sunlight stream in, and she smiled through her burning tears. She would see the sun one last time before leaving this awful existence behind.

She dragged the knife across her left wrist, and gasped when she saw the blood streaming down her forearm. She grabbed the now slippery knife, trying to gash her right wrist, but couldn’t get a firm grasp. She thought she was as good as gone, anyway. She laid down, feeling sleep slowly overcoming her while her blood spilled to the ground.

Muffled voices filled the corriordor, and her vision began to grow dark. The last thing she saw was the door opening and someone screaming.

Kati woke up with her wrist feeling as if it was on fire. At her bedside sat Daryl and aunt Carol, looking extremely worried and exhasperated.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone. Saw somethin’ in your eyes.” Daryl said, quietly.

“You think we’re going to let you go this easily? Never. How could you think to leave us, to leave me? After all we’ve been through…” Carol said, tears filling her saddened eyes.

“I can’t lose anyone else. I would rather die than lose another soul.” Kati mumbled, her bottom lip trembling.

“Do we have to put you on suicide watch?” Carol asked, wiping away her tears.

“Where am I? And no. I just need to be alone. This was my right. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Kati snapped, feeling angry and hurt.

“You ain’t leavin’ us, girl. Don’t give a damn how much you hate me or her or the world. You’re stuck with us ‘til the end, dammit.” Daryl snapped back.

“Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I’m going to my cell – ALONE!” she cried, and stumbled out of what looked to be Daryl and Merle’s cell.

She passed the throng of people she lived with. Some looked relieved, others looked sad and like they pitied her. Some whispered about her, and there were some who just watched her go up the stairs to her cell.

She calmly walked in, her heart hammering in her chest. Her wrist throbbed from the stitches, and her head hurt. She figured she hit her head somewhere along the line from the blood loss. There was blood in her bunk, and her cell had been torn apart. She climbed into her bunk, lying on her side and staring at the cold, bloodied wall.

She heard Carol and Daryl talking to others. Words such as “depression” and “fear” were thrown around. While some said their hearts broke for her, and they would watch over her.

She heard someone coming up the steps, but continued to stare at the wall. She felt as if the new lump in her throat would be the death of her. Her body twinged and she let the tears stroll down her pale cheeks, slightly sniffling and whimpering in the bed.

She felt someone get in beside her, and two strong arms slide around her waist. As she looked down, she saw a makeshift war arm, or so she called it, and knew it was Merle.

“What you think you’re doing, babygirl?” he whispered in her ear.

“N-n-nothing.” she stammered, trying to sound as if she hadn’t been crying.

“Mmm. This says otherwise.” he replied, running his fingertips along her stitches, making her wince.

“I don’t wanna see… an-anyone else… d-d-die.” She said, succumbing to her pain.

She felt Merle pull her body against his, her back right against his front, and she cried quietly. His one good hand sliding up and down her side. He remained quiet and let her do what she had to do. Once she had calmed down enough, she turned to face him.

He looked a little stiff and awkward, and she knew her crying made him uncomfortable. He forced a small smile when she looked at him, and she returned the smile. She leaned her body against his, not letting any space delve between them. He looked at her suspiciously, but didn’t move away. His good hand rested at the small of her back, gently rubbing while he kept both arms tight around her small frame.

“Thank you.” she said, looking from his blue eyes and down to his lips. They were so inviting at that point.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. No one should have to cry alone.” he mumbled, looking down at her pouty lips.

She crashed her warm lips into his, pressing them hard against his equally warm and soft lips. She moaned as his hand gripped her ass, pressing her body against his. His strong arms flexed as he slowly rolled on top of her, and her legs quickly opened and let his lower body rest between them.

As her tongue slid anxiously into his mouth, she could taste the liquor and what she could tell was cigarettes on his breath. His hand gripped her jaw, holding her tightly in place as he grunted, rubbing his lower body against hers. She could feel he was getting hard, and she really wanted to feel him drive his cock deep inside her.

He pulled away, already panting a little, and looked into her lusting eyes.

“You sure about this, babygirl?” he moaned in her ear. “We don’t have to.”

She reached one of her hands down between his legs and started to grab and rub his hardening cock, making him take in a sharp and jagged breath. “Yes, I’m sure. I want you, and I want you now.” she said in a seductive, quiet voice.

“As you wish.” he said, grabbing her hand and moving it away.

He pulled her tank top off, revealing a pink and white lace push-up bra. He looked from her full, perky tits and up to her inviting blue-green eyes.

“Damn, honey. Damn.” he said in a raspy, lust filled voice.

He ripped off her bra and threw it across the room with her top, and she began to slide off his unbuttoned shirt and then his wifebeater, leaving them both topless. She looked up in his eyes, her heart pounding as he kissed her lips gently as first, before rubbing his boner hard against her clothed pussy. She whimpered, moving back against him and gripping his shoulderblades. He pulled away with her bottom lip between his teeth, teasing her ever so slightly.

“How deep do you want it inside you, Darlin’?” he asked in a deep, throaty voice.

“As deep as possible,” she whimpered, looking up at him and biting her bottom lip.

“Nuh huh, baby, only I can bite those sexy lips.” he said, smirking.

She unbuttoned her jeans and let him slide them off, his nails dragging across the moist flesh of her leg on one side. She fumbled with the button on his, sliding them and his boxers down, eyeing his fully erect cock. Just as she was about to take his perfectly sized length in her hands, he held both of them above her head with his good hand.

“No touching, not until I say so.” he warned.

“Fuck…” she breathed as he tore off her white g-string, leaving her completely naked and vulnerable to him.

He looked up and down her body, scanning every curve and crevice. She looked from his blue eyes and down to his perfect shoulders, to his rock hard arms, and to his sculpted chest and stomach. She felt her body shake with anticipation, and she began to feel nervous under his watchful glare.

“You okay?” he asked, kissing her neck deeply and sucking on the sensitive skin, making her shudder and arch into him.

“Ye-yes, oh, God, yes.” she said in a shaky voice.

“Don’t worry little girl, Merle’s gonna take good care of you.” he winked, his lips covering hers and their tongues meeting in satisfied delight.

He grabbed her one thigh with his hand, letting her wrap her legs around his waist, and she felt his cock poking at her glistening entrance. He could tell she was already soaked, and impatiently waiting for him to take her.

He slammed his sizeable length inside her without warning, making her nerve endings go into overdrive and her to moan rather loudly. He slid his tongue deep into her mouth, gagging her as he picked up a good rhythm and kept ramming into her tight, wet pussy as hard as he could. She gripped his shoulders, moaning as their tongues locked and unlocked, sweat already beading along her breasts and down her stomach. She arched into him, not letting a sliver of space come between their aching bodies.

“God, Merle!” she cried, whimpering as she bucked her hips into his.

“Mmm babygirl, hold on tight.” he said, looking down into her eyes as he slid out fully and reentered her even slower, letting her feel every thick and hard inch of him.

Her body shuddered, and she felt as if her heart was going to burst. She ran one of her hands along his chiseled jaw, their eyes locking as he began to pound her g-spot and his fingers played with her clit. Her eyes widened and she could feel she was about to come. The aching pressure that felt so painful yet so good at the same time.

He tossed her onto her stomach, his body resting atop of hers and one of his arms around her waist.

“It’s okay, baby. I ain’t letting you go.” he moaned in her ear.

“Merle, fuck. I think I… I think…” she babbled, her eyes shutting tight and her hot cum drenching his stiffened cock.

“That’s it, babygirl. I’m almost there.” he said, smacking her ass.

She moaned his name as he relentlessly pounded into her raw and swollen pussy, making her grip the sheets and push her ass up a bit, making him spank her and leave bites down her spine.

He moaned her name in her ear as he shot his load deep inside her, pulling out and moving onto his side of the small bunk. He grabbed the comforter at the bottom of the bed to put over them, and he took her shaking body in his arms. She kissed his chest passionately and then buried her face in the crook of his neck. That was the first time she had ever had sex, even though she was 22. It was worth the wait.

“You’re amazing, girl.” he whispered, sliding a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You are. That was incredible, all I imagined it would be.” she said, her voice quivering.

“You mean to tell me you…?” he asked, looking in her eyes.

“Well, damn. I didn’t know.” he added.

“It was perfect. You were rough but gentle enough with me that it didn’t hurt. It was amazing and felt so incredible, Merle.” Kati said, looking into his deep blue eyes.

“I’m glad I could be of service then, sweetheart. I have a question, though…” he said, tightening his grip around her.

“What’s that?” she asked, dreamily as she rested her head on his chest.

“You gonna try and leave me again?” he asked, quietly. “I mean, uh, leave us again.”

In that moment she knew the often hard ass, don’t-give-a shit-about-nothing, pain in the ass had feelings for her. She smiled softly and kissed his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere so long as you aren’t.”

“I’m right here, Kati. Don’t wanna be noplace else.” he said, rubbing her back with the steady palm of his hand.

“That makes two of us.”

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obscureoperations · 4 years

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I know it's a lil late for Valentine's day, but martin receiving a bigass bouquet from his s/o? And maybe a bunch of chocolate too? And one of those novelty heart bears and he's just standing there in complete shock like "is f-for me??? 🥺"

this is so sweet oml!

I’d imagine he never really concerned himself with any of the holidays. They were for people who had an actual “family” Most of his existence consisted of simply trying to survive, and keeping his sickness at bay. He never would have imagined he would be in a scenario that he would actually have to think about such things. By time Valentines day rolled around, you had been seeing each other for about eight months. He was really starting to panic. You only mentioned it a week before “Our first Valentine’s day together... this is gonna be great.”

He couldn’t deny the flicker of panic, he heard mentions of the holiday..what exactly was he supposed to do? It was the day for lovers-- the reality of the situation began to sink in. He couldn’t possibly let you down. He hugged you tightly assuring you that he couldn’t wait, all the while the wheels continued to spin. He had to talk to Christina... she could help him. At the very least give him some tips.

It was a painstaking conversation, she smiled at him from across the table-- all the while he flushed even deeper. “So you actually found someone Martin... that’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you.. I really am!” Aside from you, Christina was one of his favorite people in the world, he couldn’t ask for a better friend. She began to go over the traditions of the holiday, how heart shaped candy and flowers were a thing. She noted how he became increasingly uncomfortable. How was he supposed to afford all that? “Some girls.. they don’t care about all that. They only want to spend the day with you.”

He seemed to relax, just a little bit. That sounded an awful lot like you. But still, he wanted to do something...anything. She soon suggested something heartfelt. Like a poem, or maybe even a song. A small item that reminded him of you. He spent the next few days scribbling away in his notebook, trying to articulate just how much you meant to him.

It was a long and tedious endeavor, crumpled pieces of paper scattered all around the wastebasket. He could never really put into words just how much you actually meant to him. It all came out in a disjointed mumbled mess. At some point he felt that he finally got it right. He explained that he had been searching for you his entire life.

When the day finally rolled around, the two of you were pretty much snowed in. There was not much you could do around town. The two of you had decided to spend the entire day at your place, watching movies and enjoying each others company..

He stood at your doorstep kicking the snow off his boots, the moment you answered his heart nearly leapt into his throat. You welcomed him with open arms, taking his hat and jacket placing them onto the coat rack. You embraced him instantly, rubbing your hands over his arms “Martin, I’m so happy you’re here!”

“Yeah... me too.”

Out of nowhere, you leap into his arm, peppering his face with kisses. He was laughing despite himself. “I love you Martin... this is gonna be great!”

When he finally sets you down, you point to the stove “I’m already making brownies.”

‘Fantastic.” He whispers, as he reaches into his pocket, offering you the small crumpled note. It was actually in an envelope, sealed with some strange sort of red wax. He places the store bought box of chocolate on the counter, along with a bottle of tab and your favorite magazine. You kissed him once again before you began to open the letter. He stops you... Can you open it later?

You could clearly see the blush spread across his cheeks, and for once decided not to embarrass him. You took his hand guiding him through the living room. The brownies were almost done. You led him upstairs to your bedroom. “I just have to show you part of your gift.”

“Part of?” He asks with a laugh. You shrug before kissing him on the cheek.

The two of you were in your bedroom, he sat at the edge of the bed with his eyes closed. For a moment, you felt a bit silly. Would he think your gifts were some sort of gag? You had to admit, you got a bit carried away in the store, you snagged up everything that reminded you of Martin. The heart shaped balloons, the small white teddy bear. The Over priced box of gourmet chocolate. The bouquet was the best in your opinion. Fresh daisies, baby’s breath and daffodils. It reminded you a lot of the field. It was too late now, you had bought all the stuff, and you were adamant on giving it to your lovely boyfriend.

In a flurry of motion you arranged everything at the foot of the bed.” Martin, open your eyes.”

For the longest time, he surveyed the scene before him with an almost unreadable expression. You could see his fingers absentmindedly bunch at the sheets as he swallows thickly. You began to panic. For some reason, in that moment you felt as though you had done something wrong. You could see tears brim the corners of his eyes, while he remained impossibly still.

It’s so much. Why would she get me all this stuff? I only wrote her a note.

“Martin... here.. You immediately reach for the bouquet, holding it in front of him eagerly. “Daisy's...honey, your favorite!”

“They are... “he whispers as he carefully reaches for the bouquet. He brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Memories of the first full night the two of you spent together under the stars began to flood his mind. Feel of grass beneath his bare skin, the look in your eyes once he confessed that he loved you.

“And look... I always tease you about liking dark chocolate... But see, that’s the only kind in the mix!” You had opened the box of candy leaving it on display on the bed. His eyes were still glued on the flowers.

Why did you have to get so carried away? It was only your first Valentines day together. But something about Martin left you wanting to spoil him in the best possible way. Was it to make up for years of isolation? You weren’t quite sure. All you knew was that you would enjoy the small glint in his eyes whenever you would thoughtfully surprise him.

That lovely spark of excitement was hidden behind, tear brimmed eyes.

“Thank you so much y/n...” He whispers as he holds the bouquet to his chest.

You really began to worry.

“I’m sorry, Martin.. I know its alot. I just didn’t know what to pick!”

“It’s okay,” he whispers as he places the flowers aside. His arms immediately wrap around you. Face buried at the crook of your neck, you could feel stray tears sink into your skin, disappearing beneath the collar of your sweater. He holds you that most closer for a moment. “Thank you so much... he whispers.”

#Martin 1977 #Martin 1978 #martin/reader #martin/you #martin/fem reader #I didn't see this till late... i'm sorry!#I wanna spoil tf outta martin omg

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hoodoo12 · 4 years

Text

Ménage (9/13ish)

SFW. Confessions, soft kisses, coming to an agreement, surprise.

@beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @janitor-boy @thewolfisapartofmysoul @dilfyjuice @yogsathot

Enjoy! ~

With another sincere, if tight-lipped, smile at the demon, Dewey walked out the back door. The clouds had swiftly covered the sun, and for a moment he mourned the opportunity to see the way her hair caught the sunlight as she knelt in her garden, thick gloves protecting her hands as she pulled weeds with single-minded tenacity. Feeling shy all of a sudden, his toe dug into the soft dirt at the edge of her garden, clearing his throat after a moment and feeling that gentle shock of seeing her eyes settle on him, rather than through him, as they had done for so long.

“Molly, I . . . I’ve got something I wanted to tell you.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. There was more, on top of everything else? She got to her feet, dusting off her knees, and tugged the gloves from her hands. “Okay. What is it?”

Dewey took a deep breath, and for the first time since he had been alive, he felt the faint stirrings of butterflies in his stomach, such a foreign and startlingly human reaction.

“First of all, I want to say again how . . . how sorry I am. Truly. You’ve been so sad and so lonely, and I didn’t do a thing to help.” There was an inscrutable shift in her expression when she registered the word change from couldn’t to didn’t. “You have every right to be angry with me. I . . . I guess I understand now why you . . . ” He gestured toward the house. “Why you’re so attached to him. I hate to admit it, but for a demon, he seems . . . solid.”

Which was honestly the nicest thing he would allow himself to say about Beetlejuice right now.

Molly continued to listen in silence, so he plunged ahead.

“For an angel, I've been kinda selfish. For the longest time, at least in my mind, it was just you and me, y'know? You were my charge, my girl, and then you just . . . just invite some stranger in. He just happened to be a demon, which meant I could make the case that your soul was in danger and, well, here we are. Honestly, I should have found a way to appear to you sooner, but . . ." Dewey stalled, scratching nervously at the back of his head. "I . . . I wanted to be near you for the wrong reasons."

She spoke up then, her head tilted to the side in confusion. "The wrong reasons?"

His wings ruffles uncomfortably, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he had seen her on so many times.

"As your guardian, it's natural for me to . . . to bond with you, even if you're unaware of it. I'm supposed to care for you, and I do. But . . . I care about you too. More than I should. And I was afraid that if I . . . if I let you see me, if I got close to you . . . the temptation would be too much."

"Temptation?" Her brow furrowed, and he felt ice slip down his gullet at the look of near dread on her face. "Dewey, what are you talking about?"

He tried to find the words to tell her. He wanted to string together every poem he'd ever read, every love song he'd ever heard, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to properly express how he felt in words alone. So instead he took her hands, leaned in, and kissed her.

It was everything he had dreamed it would be. It was the most terrifying moment of his existence. She was soft, warm, her scent surrounding him like drugged perfume, and she wasn't pulling away. He let his lips linger against hers for a moment, a single second that held years of longing, before stepping back. There was a tug at his heart when he saw her eyes had closed, dismay twisting in his gut when he saw tears leaking out from beneath her lashes.

“Oh honey, don’t cry, please . . . I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Despite the worry that sent a chill through his body, he couldn’t help but marvel at the ability to brush her tears away, lifting them from her cheeks as he had wished to do for ages. Her breath hitched as she opened her eyes, and she shook her head.

“I-It’s not that . . . Dewey, I . . . I felt you.”

Confused at first, he looked down to see where his hand still cradled hers, astonished to find that his golden aura had enveloped her almost up to the elbow. Molly let out a sob, and he let go of her hands, watching the glow fade. For those moments, just for a few precious seconds, she had been able to feel the depth of his feeling for her, felt each second he had spent loving her from a distance, and it had overwhelmed her.

“Moly . . .”

He didn’t know what to say after that. A lump gathered in his throat as he watched her regain her composure, terrified of what she would say next while simultaneously dying to know. After a minute or so, her tears dry though there was still a slight quiver to her mouth, she took a deep breath and caught his eyes with hers.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said softly, and Dewey let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding.

“Don’t be. I probably would have done the same thing.”

It was Molly’s turn to take a step closer, though she didn’t reach for him. “This, um . . . this is an awful lot for me to process.”

Almost imperceptibly, his wings began to droop; that sounded an awful lot like the beginning of a rejection. Then, her warm fingers stroked down his arm, linking momentarily with his.

“But I think I understand now, at least a little. I just wish . . . I wish you could have done this sooner.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” A soft smile curled on his face, and for just a moment, he allowed himself to feel hopeful.

Though it was still sore from her chewing the previous night, her teeth nipped at the broken spot on her lip, which quickly grew red.

“I’ll admit . . . I don’t know what to do now.” She nodded toward the house, and he understood what she meant. “I summoned him. I brought him here. And he’s been so kind to me. He’s a demon, he can take what he wants, but he was patient, he asked what I wanted. He . . . you know, he’s just a lonely guy. Just as lonely as you and me, maybe more. That’s probably why the spell brought him here.”

She took a breath. “I’m willing to try this out, to let you stay with me . . . to be with you. But he’s part of the deal. As far as I’m concerned, this is his home now, just as much as it is mine.” Her brow raised in question. “Can you live with that?”

Dewey smiled, lifting a hand to gently push a stray curl back behind her ear. “For you? Absolutely. Besides, as far as demons go, I’ll admit . . . he’s pretty cute.”

That caused her to laugh, the first genuine smile gracing her mouth since he’d arrived, and his heart melted in relief.

“Okay,” she breathed, pausing for a moment before leaning forward and brushing a kiss over his cheek; a spot of heat lingered where her lips touched his skin.

With Dewey following, Molly went back inside the house, not surprised to find Beetlejuice roaming around her home again, fully clothed this time.

“Beej, can we talk for a sec?”

⁂

Beetlejuice watched Dewey walk--walk!--out of the house. To find Molly, to talk to Molly, to explain himself to Molly, all at his suggestion. Her house felt empty now, with no one else in it. That shouldn’t hurt as much as it did; he was used to being alone, and it was going to happen again pretty quickly, so why should there be a bitter taste in the back of his mouth? Alone was his lot in life. He should be used to it.

He picked at the frayed strings on his jacket’s sleeve. He could only imagine what an angel approaching Molly outside was going to look like. Although Dewey wasn’t in a flowing gown, he was at least dressed nicer. And with the snow white wings, and with the sun coming down, creating a golden corona of light around him . . . shit.

Shit.

He’d shot himself in the foot. He should’ve stayed angry, stayed indignant, and forced this celestial interloper the fuck out of here. Now he just felt reduced and stupid.

He wondered how long he’d spend by himself before someone messed up and accidently called him again, after Molly sent him away.

With a moan of despair that no one heard--also a standard thing in his life--Beetlejuice got up from the couch. He went the altar Molly had set up and ran his fingers over the candles and grimoire she’d put there. A small bowl held charred remains of plant material and on closer examination, a few strands of her hair that she’d used in her ritual. They weren’t much, all heat curled at the ends, but they were as blue as the sea and he pocketed them as a reminder of her. He doubted she’d give him any long strands, after Dewey would explain how demons could continue to influence people if they had tangible things to focus on.

They were still outside talking. He wandered into the kitchen under the pretense of getting more coffee, but also to get a peek at them. He was a world class voyeur, and should have been spying on them all along, but the pain that settled into his gut had pinned him to the couch.

The window over the sink was open. He’d forgotten that. Beetlejuice saw them in her garden, standing so close. Her hand was in his! He pushed her hair behind her ear!

He should be seething, but he just felt tired. This was the expected result, after all.

He couldn’t hear much, but with his head down he caught a little. Dewey was saying something about "for her? Absolutely!"

Beetlejuice flinched. She was asking the angel to help banish him. He tensed in anticipation of being sent away without even being next to her again.

But then--

“For a demon, he’s pretty cute”?

Beetlejuice’s head snapped up as those words made it to his ears. He must have heard wrong, because Molly laughed like she was delighted to hear that. He watched her press a kiss to Dewey’s face, and then lead him back to the house, towards the back door.

Quickly, Beetlejuice skipped back to the living room and stood by the altar again, picking up the green candle like he’d been there all along. Hoping his expression was neutral enough to disguise he’d overheard tail end of their conversation, he turned when she said they should talk.

“Sure,” he replied to her question quietly. “I’m ready to go.”

“Go?” Her brow furrowed, and in a split second, she realized that he must have seen them talking in the garden, might have even seen the kiss, and had come to the conclusion that she had chosen Dewey over him.

Indeed, his face was a stony mask of resignation, but those amber eyes couldn’t completely conceal his hurt, and Molly felt her heart splinter inside her chest.

“Oh, honey, no. No, you’re not going anywhere.”

She crossed immediately to him and reached up to cradle his face between her hands, softly kissing the corner of his mouth. No matter how many times she reassured him that she wanted him around, that he could stay as long as he wanted, he always seemed convinced that he was moments from being sent away, and it broke her heart.

“That’s what we need to talk about.”

Dewey let his eyes trail across her form as Molly made her way across the room, a little less ashamed now to be looking so brazenly. The euphoria of kissing her, of telling her, showing her his feelings for her and to not be turned down was still running hot through his body, and he was surprised to find that seeing her kiss Beetlejuice didn’t sting the way it did the night before. This might not be quite the challenge he was expecting it to be.

Molly took the demon’s hand and led him over to where Dewey was standing, waiting. He smiled, shoving his hands almost shyly in his pockets.

He’d thought they’d come back in to at least banish him in person, and he hadn’t been looking forward to seeing the gloating triumph in the angel’s face. Molly walking over to him, Molly telling him he was staying, Molly kissing him was all unexpected, and Beetlejuice gaped for a moment.

Then while he was stunned she took him over to Dewey, and the angel continued where she’d left off.

“We decided . . . well, we think we could make this work.” Dewey gestured to the three of them, his hand plunging immediately back into his pocket, a nervous trait he had never managed to shake. “If you wanna give it a try. She obviously cares a lot about you, and . . . I think we could manage. If it makes Molly happy, it’s worth a shot.”

His brows raised, questioning, hopeful. “What do you say?”

“Make this work?” he repeated stupidly. He glanced back and forth between the two of them, trying to understand what that meant, exactly. “Like, I stay here, and you stay here, and Molly . . .?”

"Yeah," she said encouragingly, squeezing his hand. "I would never make you leave, Beej; if you go, it's because you want to, not because anyone is making you. I told Dewey that as far as I'm concerned, this is your home too. He's willing to keep the peace, and if you're willing to do the same, then there's no reason we can't all stay here."

Still lacing her fingers between his, she leaned her head against his shoulder, reaching out to take Dewey's hand in her free one. "I know it's not going to be easy right off the bat, but . . . I think it's worth a try."

Dewey squeezed her hand gratefully, moving just a bit closer, still a little unsure about how Beetlejuice would react. He still wasn’t sure what all of this meant for his angelic status, but since he hadn’t burst into flame or had his wings vaporized, perhaps . . . perhaps this really could work. Maybe he could gain more than he bargained for.

Slowly, Dewey reached forward with his free hand, skimming his fingertips along the back of Beetlejuice’s hand before tentatively linking their fingers.

“You know, I’ve never been much of a rule follower. Definitely not when I was alive. So why now, right? If it makes my charge happy to have you here, to have us both here, then what’s so wrong about that?”

If his brain wasn’t so occupied with trying to make all this fit together, he’d had made some biting remark about how that sounded like a pitch for the lamest, most common denominator sit com idea ever: "A Demon, An Angel, And Her!" But Molly was leaning on him, her hair smelling of shampoo and sunlight, and Dewey had stepped closer and took his hand, and that nothing else in the world important right now.

He already knew how warm Molly was. He was not expecting Dewey to be just as warm, maybe even more, and his fingers twitched against the angel’s, automatically wanting more.

His brow still furrowed, he knew his hair would be a wild mix of green, yellow, and embarrassingly, pink at the heat from the simple handholding. Fully expecting to be sent away, this option wasn’t one that even crossed his mind.

The three of them? Here? Together? How--?

Details could be sorted out later. He’d made worse deals, for less.

The pause he took in coming up with his answer made Molly nervous, her stomach rolling into a tight, squirming pit. What if he said no? What if he refused to be around an angel? Would he territorial, possessive, or would he simply leave? Dewey seemed equally anxious, his thumb running back and forth over the back of the demon's pale, shaking hand.

Licking his lips in more a nervous gesture than a sensual one, Beetlejuice nodded.

“Yeah . . . okay?” He cleared his throat and tried to eliminate the squeak in his voice, to sound more like he’d been earlier: confident and on top of things. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s give it a go.”

Her heart lifted, a smile like the sun coming out from behind the clouds spreading across her face as she squeezed his hand. Molly felt buoyant, hopeful, and perhaps, even genuinely happy for the first time in her adult life. In less than a day, her life had gone from hopeless and empty, to chaotic, to bursting with promise. Maybe that heavy feeling of being beneath a shadow, being cursed, would finally lift. Maybe, finally, she could see the sun.

Dewey's dark brown eyes watched as Beetlejuice's hair flickered in different colors, like a shifting, uncertain kaleidoscope. Did the colors mean something? Certainly every time a new emotion seemed to drift across his face, a new color filtered up like colored water through flower petals.

But then the demon agreed, and Dewey could practically feel Molly's relief as if it were his own, his smile widening as she pressed herself closer to him, her eyes warm and wide as a summer sky. For a brief instant, he saw a glimpse of a future that was hard-won, but peaceful, the three of them able to fill her home corner to corner with life and affection. He would get to be with her, be there for her, in all he ways he couldn't before. Two souls placed on opposite sides of the chessboard could find kinship and mutual respect for one another. It was everything he could have ever dreamed for, and more.

And then it fractured, darkened, shattered when he heard the prim clearing of a throat from her living room, his entire body going cold with dread when he let go of Molly and Beetlejuice's hands, darting around them to see another winged figure, tall and slender as a willow, their wings easily twice as large as his and a deep, rich gold in color. Their head lifted, sculpted brow arching as the cast a disapproving gaze in his direction. A voice that seemed to echo, a voice as androgynous as its maker, filled the room.

"Honestly, fledgling, I expected more from you."

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Dewey Finn #rp #AU #Beetlejuice x OC #Dewey X OC #Beetlejuice based on Blumjuice

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the-voice-of-hell · 3 years

Text

Rent is Theft, part 16

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here. Note: My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not. If you have notes on that or anything else, hit me up.

***

“I dunno… Is it OK if I take a shower?”

“Is it OK if I help out?”

“Um, I just want to get clean.”

I stood up and took her in my arms. “Aw, it’s no big deal. Sex can be kinda messy and embarrassing. You should be proud of yourself. That was awesome.”

“But you didn’t...”

“I’ll get mine, Leimomi. We have all the time we want.” I kissed her cheek. “Go shower up, be quick. I’m gonna straighten myself out too.”

She nodded and went through her bedroom into the bathroom. I washed my face and hands in the sink, then went to figure out what to do with my clothes.

The low lights in the room made a mirror of the big window, but a dim one. I checked myself out in it, hand on a hip, ooh la la. But something about the darkness just made me look old and skeletal. I decided to put on all my clothes.

Momi was taking long enough that I had a bored minute, so I went to intercept. I didn’t want her to shy away after she was done with the shower, figured I wouldn’t let her get the opportunity. I stood outside her bathroom door and waited.

She stepped out and I spread my arms. “I missed you. C’mere.”

“Uh, OK.” She inched closer and I folded myself around her.

“We’re good, right?” I searched her eyes.

“Oh course, Courtney.”

“Good.” I pecked her lips once. “Let’s relax on your bed. Come on.”

She nodded. I got onto the bed quick, resisting the temptation to bounce in like a kid. To my disappointment, she started putting on her pajamas. Oh well. I took the moment to surreptitiously watch her luscious body as it disappeared into cloth. Click went the camera of my memory, then I looked away so she wouldn’t notice.

Momi got into bed beside me and pulled the blanket over us. It was the blanket that came with the unit. Her apartment must have been less ravaged by the allergy episode than mine was. I got close, hugging her with my whole body, then looked her in the eyes.

“Hey, you mind if I feel you up? Just for a minute. I like the way your bod feels through the clothes.”

“Mm, just a minute. I mean, I just took a shower.”

I laughed like a movie villain and rubbed her all over. It was a good time, but I didn’t want to be too self indulgent, so I settled back into laying beside her pretty quickly.

I felt something slipping at my scalp - the scarf came loose, and Reverse Courtney immediately started in on us. “Momi! Momi! We don’t belong here, baby! Get out while the gettin’s good! Don’t trust Courtney! I can’t believe you trusted Courtney! This is your life baby!”

I was mad. “Hey! Hey!” I pawed at the back of my head and she nipped me with painful bites. I checked to make sure they didn’t draw any blood while she rattled on.

Momi looked startled and upset at first, but then realized the culprit - some of her hair had wormed free of the scarves, and pulled mine off. The strand was whipping around her head, trying to pull off the rest of her wrap.

We both fell about the bed, wrestling with ourselves, lending each other hands as needed. I felt like a cowboy at a demented surreal porn rodeo. At last, we had our heads bound again, and fell in beside each other - this time sitting up, uncomfortably sweaty, romance exhausted.

She sobbed once into her hands. “What can we do? What can we do?”

I held her close. “I’ll figure it out. I did last time, I’ll do it again. You’ll see.”

“But how? Allergies is a thing that happens. You can do something to that. Nobody turns into a monster.”

“We’re not monsters honey, but you gave me a good idea. We can look up books about monsters. If the other thing had an answer, I bet this does too. It has to. It does.”

“...I guess.” She let me comfort her with embraces. I loved it.

“Hey. Ever since I messed up before, ever since we had that hard night, I felt sick. I was sure I’d never feel OK again without you, sure I loved you.”

She couldn’t look at me, feeling too intense, face red.

“I love you, Leimomi. I wanna be your girlfriend for life. I never wanna let you go.”

She still couldn’t talk, just pulled me back under the blankets and held me close. I don’t know why we cried. We cried a lot. Life is the worst.

***

The first date was a kind of test to see if the volatile feelings would break into conflict and push us apart again. We spent that night sleeping together. Well, I slept eventually, but had been awake for more than an hour, just watching her.

�� After that, I felt great. That turbulent energy was still there the next morning, but everything we did, every moment that passed helped to iron it out. I invited her to my apartment for breakfast, did the housewife thing again. Every time we were close, we touched.

We sat across the kitchenette island from each other as we ate, talked about little things like nail polish and annoying neighbors. She didn’t care for Perry, but the man was intentionally off-putting, so reasonable feelings all around. We laughed nervously at each other’s jokes.

As I went to put our dishes in the sink, I noticed the couch I’d dragged into the bedroom since my bed flew out the window. That’s no place to make love. I needed a real bed. I remembered noticing her bed was the one that came with the unit, and that reminded me there was another unit on the floor - with another bed in it. I could just drag that into my place. Bing bang boom.

I sat across from Momi again and a feeling began to come over me slowly. Time still existed. I still needed to do things within that unfortunate continuum. What would she do with herself? If she was half as jittery as me, having nothing to do would be unbearable.

She noticed my concern. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” I put my hand out and we touched. “Just being annoyed that there’s shit to do in the world. I’ve gotta get a job, gotta research werewolves, that kinda thing.”

“Huh. Sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Mm, sometimes maybe? Probably not now. I’ll be too distracted if you’re here.” I smiled big. “You make me crazy, girl.”

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes. “I guess I can go bug Marcie.”

“If he’s around, maybe you could get to know Deandre. He’s young, bet you have a lot in common.”

“Uh huh.” She slipped away from me and stood up to leave.

I scrambled around the counter to meet her with a big hug. “I love you too much, baby. I’ll see you real soon. Kiss me.”

She complied, making me feel weird about it. Why did I make a command of it? Like Dracula or something. I tried to make the most of the kiss and squeezed her tight. I resisted the urge to smack her sexy ass as she left. I’m a bad person.

I got the laptop running, went into my e-mail, checked my notes. I didn’t have enough bites to justify spending a lot of time massaging the leads, had to generate some new ones. It was tedious work, but mostly less nerve-wracking than trying to get an interview.

But as I went about it, my mind rebelled. Fuck this shit. Before I knew what I was doing, I was making a spreadsheet listing out important information about the floor. Column A - names. Column B - blank. Column C - rent. Column D - what to call it? I settled on “curses.”

Courtney - - - $000 - mouth on head tries to defeat me

Leimomi - - - $000 - hair like crazy snakes causing trouble

Graeme - - - $200 - port-wine stain? red hands and arms

Marcie - - - $200 - something on her chest

Richie - - - $000 - hair catches fire

Perry - - - $000 - don’t know

Patrick - - - $200 - don’t know

Methadone Mike - - - $000 - turning green

Deandre - - - $100 - don’t know

Olivia - - - $000 - neck pops up

Knobby - - - $000 - floor shitting werewolf? not exactly bipedal, at minim.

I leaned back and considered the screen. Maybe there’s a werewolf cure that isn’t a bullet, but what about me? Worse, what about Momi? She was so sad and afraid. I hated it.

There’s an obvious enough cure, I thought, with a voice not entirely my own. What’s the one thing happening here that is unusual, that no one ever does? It has to be the cause, right? The building is allergic to you. Leave the fucking building.

Yeah. I know. Just give me a damn minute. Maybe we could cure everybody just by giving up the place and leaving, but we needed more money, income sources, before that would be a safe thing to do. Meanwhile, we needed that werewolf under control.

To that end, I committed to getting a job ASAP and to muzzling the dog. I minimized my spreadsheet and went at the job crap with the energy of anger.

I couldn’t bear a full two hours of it, but didn’t want to seem weird by bugging Momi yet, so I went to get the bed out of 1207. I brought the big key ring, clink clink. The door seemed eager to open, almost flying out of my grip.

I clutched the knob for dear life. The whole apartment was fucked apart, the wall between the bedroom and living room wobbling in the breeze, a vast puckered hole in the windows stretched across both rooms.

More than anything I was tempted to get out in the hall, pull the door closed, and pretend I’d never opened it. But I wasn’t getting sneezed out the window yet, and it was probably a good idea to know more about what the hell was going on. The air pressure began to equalize between the hall and the room, allowing me to let go of the handle and walk inside - with careful, halting steps. Behind me the door flapped irregularly in the wind.

The fourth of the apartment closest to the hall was the least malformed, but it still had a creepy pulse, a softness that allowed it to bow in and out. It was coated in a thin sheen of mucus. As the apartment neared the windows, it got progressively worse. The laminate was warped apart. The underlying plaster and concrete of the building seemed translucent, organic, exuding thicker streams of gelatinous slime in some areas, blistering out into red sores in other areas. It was warped and folded and breathed with more dramatic motion than the area by the door. At the outer edge of the apartment, it barely hewed to the window, and the window itself had bulged into a wheezing rippling orifice big enough to drive a truck through.

The ground beneath me shifted and I stepped quick to renew my footing. The places my feet had been touching the floor were now bleeding sores. So this is what happens without the allergy medicine. Fucking hell. The kitchenette island was a bulwark against the worst of the outer reach of the apartment, something to cling to if the place sneezed, and I hid behind it with hands gripping the top, raising welts.

How about that bed? I glanced to the furniture. Over the countertop I could see the living room furniture had slid around, was half upended, but was intact and not too bizarre. It was hard to see the bed from my angle, but I knew that even if it was in good shape, it was too risky to try to move it out. Probably covered in nasty-ass mucilage anyhow.

“Oh my LORD!” Perry was at the door, hanging from the frame, looking fit to fall and break his hip.

The massive hole in the window breathed in, rippling luridly as if to taunt him - or suck him out on the back draft. I took the risk of startling him by hustling to the door in a hurry, gently shoving him out, holding him up against the wall, closing the door with my foot.

His face looked forlorn, unworldly. Ghost-blanched, eyes searching for Heaven but only finding ceiling. But as the air pressure in the hall returned to normal, those eyes came to rest on me, the expression stern. “Just what in hell are you tryin’ ta do to us?”

“I’m just trying to help, Perry. Really.”

“People tryin’ ta help. All the time,” his voice was so damn loud, “I hate it!”

I eased off of him, trying to make sure as I did that he could stand on his own. “Yeah, that’s fine, but maybe you should go take a nap, man. It’s been a hard morning, right?”

He swatted away my support with his massive but frail old hands. “I hate you all.”

Did he have an extra knuckle on each finger?

***

I had to do that research, but that shouldn’t have been too hard, so I decided to take Momi with me. I found her in her apartment. She looked eager to get out, but had to get dressed first. We looked a little ridiculous with our head wraps. No culture in the world does it as dorky as we were doing. Necessity is the mother of bad fashion innovations.

I might have walked if I was going alone, but I didn’t want to wear anybody else out. We took the bus. I held her arm and leaned my head on her shoulder. I kissed her cheeks and just doted on her as much as she’d allow.

Every moment felt good, but in a strange way, like a balloon about to pop or a dam about to burst. If the explosion happened, what would it mean? I hoped it wasn’t from some inner awareness that it couldn’t last.

We must have given the impression of people in mourning. We were emotionally worn out and physically comforting each other. I didn’t notice any homophobic glares. But then, I wasn’t noticing much besides her. I wished I could see her pretty hair again.

I’d have preferred to buy her something nice to eat, but we got cheap wrapped sandwich halves from a drug store and split a bottled water. After wolfing that down on a cold concrete bench, we hiked six blocks to the library.

Most of the new library was avant garde modernist architecture with cold antihuman materials, angles, proportions. The walls were a lattice of brushed steel beams and bulletproof glass, the floors marble that weirdly ended a foot short of the walls so that if you made the mistake of stepping too close, you’d break your ankle. The irregular plastic drop ceiling and lights alternated between too short and too tall, too bright and too dark. All the furniture was too narrow to sit in comfortably for anyone slightly wider than my skinny ass. The whole effort seemed like it was intended to discourage homeless people from falling asleep, even sitting up.

Most of the library was like that, but if one felt bold enough and clever enough to navigate the maze of narrow escalators, they could reach a dark wood lounge at the top level - with comfortable leather furniture and well placed, warm reading lights. The place had a classist air that acted like an invisible doorman and despite the lack of an actual security presence, only a very few hobos lounged up there amid tense college kids and old people that quietly radiated old economy money.

I knew about that lounge, despite the rest of the building’s efforts to repel me, and I dragged Leimomi up there by the hand. We came out of a narrow royal orange plastic corridor into the warm dark space and she visibly relaxed. There was some cool daylight up there as well, filtered through the distant steel and glass cage. The floor here ended twenty feet shy of the wall, one short bannister all that separated people from a mortal plunge to some random lower floor. But the isolated platform layout just made the lounge even more cozy, like a carefully crafted bird’s nest in a crook of a high building ledge. We found a love seat and sank into it.

Momi didn’t know if she was allowed to talk until she overheard someone else chatting in low tones. She spoke very quietly. “How did you know this nice place is up here?”

“A guy took me here on a date when the place first opened. Anyway, I remembered the rare book collection is up here, and thought to myself, old books about monsters. That’s the place to look.”

“What do you even think you can find out? I never heard of nothin’ like this.”

I rubbed my head fingers bumping into the head wraps uncomfortably. “Well, I am confident one thing will cure all of us, and that’s leaving the building. But it’ll take time to scrounge up the income to get out, have somewhere to go. So until then, I just want to focus on one of us - the werewolf.”

“The werewolf. Who is a werewolf?”

“I think it’s Knobby, the way he’s stooped over? And some other things... Anyway, some other tenants in the building have been talking about some kind of big dog or hairy man out in the halls, making a mess and causing trouble. That puts us all at risk. If I get any more mouths I can wrap myself like a mummy. But the werewolf is out of control.”

“I guess that’s why you’re gonna try to fix him instead of us.”

I rubbed her shoulder. “I have a plan to fix us already. I’m gonna get a job so I can afford for us to move. This stuff should clear right up, I bet.”

She nodded and looked at her lap.

“Well, I don’t think you’ll get in trouble for slouching and catching a few winks, because I’ll be next to you. Just don’t snore too loud, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Yeah.”

I felt bad for bringing her, but a change of scenery was still probably good for her, even if it was boring. I left her to find some old werewolf nonsense, see if there was such a thing as an exorcism for it. Fortunately the digital catalog turned up one promising result right away - a book from 1912 titled “Werwolves.” I brought the beat-up old book back to the loveseat quickly for perusal.

The subject of exorcism came up quickly in the book. “Is it possible to exorcize the evil power of metamorphosis possessed by the werwolf, or, as those would say who see in the werwolf, not the possession of a property, but a spirit, ‘to exorcize the evil spirit’? For my own part, and basing my opinion on my own experiences with other forms of the superphysical, with regard to the success of exorcism I am sceptical.” Fuck. I kept reading.

“I am not only dubious as to the powers of exorcism generally, I am also dubious as to its effect on werwolves. I have come across a good many alleged cases of its having been successfully practised on werwolves, but in regard to these cases, the authority is not very reliable, nor the corroborative evidence strong.” Well tell me about the cases, genius.

The book was written in a conversational style - not much sense to the order of it. But it was easier to skim than you’d expect with the pretentious style, and eventually I found some examples - and some actual rituals. I copied them by taking pictures with my phone, using a book as an improvised monopod. But since it would be easier to peruse the relevant sections from the book itself - and it wasn’t available for checkout - I took advantage of our time at the library to do it.

“Nearly all the methods prescribed embrace the use of some potion; such, for example, as sulphur, asafoetida, and castoreum, mixed with clear spring water; or hypericum, compounded with vinegar--which two potions seem to have been (and to be still) the most favoured recipes for removing the devilish power...

The ceremony of exorcism proceeded as follows: The werwolf was sprinkled three times with one of the above solutions, and saluted with the sign of the cross, or addressed thrice by his baptismal name, each address being accompanied by a blow on the forehead with a knife; or he was sprinkled, whilst at the same time his girdle was removed; or in lieu of being sprinkled, he had three drops of blood drawn from his chest, or was compelled to kneel in one spot for a great number of years.”

Fuck. We didn’t have that kind of time, and the less we had to mutilate a boy, the better.

“The rites that were performed in connexion with this ceremony (and which I understand are those most commonly observed in exorcizing all manner of evil spirits) were as follows...” The routine was elaborate, and there was a version that only involved shin kicks, so less knifey. That was nice. I closed up the book when I was satisfied and wound an arm around Leimomi, careful not to loosen her head wrap.

“Hey kiddo. You wanna chill for a little longer, or get going? We don’t have to go back home right now. Maybe we can take a bus to Mars and chill.”

“Mm, Mars is good.”

***

Read next chapter here.

#Rent is Theft #part 16 #honestly not sure when i wrote this #but i finished the first draft #nanowrimo july 2021

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notesofarichlycolorednight · 6 years

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Color Asks for Tori (and Luke if you want??????): Chili, Spice, Peach, Honey, Mint, Baby Blue, Periwinkle, Amethyst, Magenta, Snow, Cream, Chiffon, Ecru, Sugar Cookie, and Graphite

aw yiss

tori’s gonna be so thrilled

luke isn’t my oc, but i dragged him in here anyway, just for fun i guess he kinda is regarding my au, tho...

besides tori could use the company…some of those question made her kinda sad that last round

Chili - Do you like spicy foods?

tori: yes, i love them! i’ve built up a tolerance over the yrs.

luke: *shifts uncomfortably* i…like it once in a while.

tori: *stage whispers* he hates spicy foods

luke: tori!

Spice - Do you like to cook? Do you cook often?

tori: i can’t cook to save my life. i think it’d be nice. my mom tried to teach me once…that didn’t go well. i think if…she was still alive i would know how to cook.

luke: pass

tori: *kicks his leg* just answer, it’s fine. it’s supposed to be confidential *glares at me*

luke: i can cook basic things. i had to learn to. that’s all i’m saying.

tori: *pats luke’s arm and takes his hand*

me: moving on…

Peach - Are you generally a more gentle and soft spoken person or a louder and rougher person?

luke: *bursts into laughter* is that even a question?

tori: rude! i’ll have you know, i can be very gentle and soft-spoken, thank you

luke: *strokes his thumb cross tori’s hand* i would agree with that. but most of the time, she’s definitely louder and rougher. in more ways than one.

tori: *blushes furiously* yeah well, you’re definitely louder and rougher all the time. he’s only gentle and soft-spoken around me.

*they start leaning toward each other*

me: okay, next question!

Honey - Have you ever considered marrying someone? What is your opinion on marriage in general?

*luke and tori exchange a glance and shift awkwardly, both blushing*

luke: well i mean, i have…thought about it, yes *eyes flicker to tori*

tori: i guess…i guess i never thought i’d live long enough to even consider it, but… *glances up at luke*

me: and the second question?

tori: i think it’s something really special. it’s a big decision too, and it’s something that should be discussed and contemplated rationally. it’s also something to be cherished.

luke: *looking at tori and stroking her hand again, a small smile on his lips* i agree

me: [aside] they’re so cute

Mint - Does Ice cream exist in your world? If so, what is your favorite Ice cream flavor?

tori: yes! and i love it! i sneak it into camp all the time. i love strawberry ice cream.

luke: i really only like it because it’s a good bargaining chip. smuggling ice cream into camp was worth more because you have to keep it frozen. it’s very perishable item.

tori: *rolls eyes* i swear, his sweet tooth must’ve fallen out or something. but he’s right about the bargaining. you wouldn’t believe what kind of favors you can get out of getting ice cream into camp.

Baby (blue) - Would you consider having children? If so, how many?

luke and tori: *more furious blushing*

tori: like i said about marriage, i never really thought i’d live long enough to consider it. but…i think i like the idea of children. *frowns* i don’t know how safe they’d be around us though *looks over at luke*

luke: i’d have to think about it more. i’d love to have children with tori, but…i also agree with her concerns. it’s more dangerous for them, and…that’s a lot of responsibility. *frowns deeply* you have to make tough choices and sometimes they’re wrong

tori: *moves closer and rubs his arm with her free hand*

Periwinkle - Would you consider yourself to be a good parent? what do you think a good parent should be?

luke: i don’t like these questions anymore

me: last one, i promise

tori: i would try to be the best parent. of course i’m going to make mistakes, but that’s part of life. that’s the very human part of who i am. *looks at luke for a moment* i think that i’d try and mimic my mom, because she was the best mom i could’ve ever had. i think…i think luke would be a very good parent. i know he would protect and cherish our child or children and… *looks at luke again* he may make mistakes, but i know we’ll come through them

me: *glances at luke* uh…

tori: *shakes head*

Amethyst- What is your aesthetic?

luke: my what?

tori: i asked leo about this, but it’s so hard to define. it’s something pleasing to look at–it’s very specific to your personal tastes. it doesn’t have to be an object, it can be clothes on a person. or a person themselves. if…if that makes sense.

luke: i don’t understand this question. does sword-fighting count? i guess–pleasing to look at? *glances at tori* well...tori in armor, sword drawn. or when she’s asleep in the morning lights filters through the windows and makes her glow. when we’re training and little hairs start to wiggle loose from her braid and stick to her forehead. her eyes. her smile.

tori: *hiding behind her hands and blushing too much to speak*

luke: *laughs and puts his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him* brush passes–you know what those are?

me: *scoffs* of course

luke: hushed conversations. the empty hermes cabin. empty camp. the sound of tree nymphs racing through the forest. the sound of wind whistling in your ears as you run. charismatic smiles. mischievous eyes. does that answer the question?

tori: *takes a deep breath and pulls her hands from her face* i really liked looking at my mom’s guitar on its stand, underneath the lamp. posters of plays and musicals covering the walls. bonus if they’re signed by the cast and crew. *sighs* as much as i hate apollo, i really do like early morning or late evening sun–there’s something soft and soothing about the light it creates in the sky. *blushes and glances at luke, hunching her shoulders* luke’s blue eyes. and the look of concentration he gets when he trains or is in battle. in the middle of the night, when he’s asleep. it’s…it’s the most relaxed an carefree i ever get to see him. *mumbles* in one of his many brown shirts *sighs* shirtless–oh my gods, did i just say that out loud? next question!!!

Magenta - What is your Zodiac sign?

tori: i’m a scorpio *looks at luke expectantly*

luke: *rolls eyes* capricorn

Snow - Have you ever seen snow? Do you like it? What do you like to do in the snow?

tori: i love snow!! my mom used to throw snowballs at us, in the house, on the first day we get snow. right after we’d woken up and gone out into the kitchen for breakfast. it’s also...really beautiful, the way it sparkles in the sun. the sound it makes when you walk on it. the silence of it when it falls. it quiets the earth and it love it.

luke: i tolerate it. it’s not my favorite. it’s cold. it makes things icy. but i agree that it can be quite beautiful. just so long as i’m not out in it, i’m fine.

Cream - Do you prefer Tea, Coffee, or Cocoa? (If your world has those things. If not, what sort of hot drinks do you have?)

tori: oh, cocoa, no question. it’s my childhood favorite, and will always be my first choice. tea is my next choice.

luke: coffee. black. like my soul.

tori: *playfully shoves luke so hard he nearly falls out of his chair* don’t listen to him. he puts so much milk in his coffee. i’m trying to get him to drink more herbal tea.

luke: *righting himself in his chair* i honestly prefer energy drinks

tori: *shaking her head* it’s not healthy

Chiffon - Do you prefer a larger and cleaner environment, or a smaller and cozier one?

tori: i like small and cozy. it feels more intimate and warm. lived in.

luke: i...honestly like larger and cleaner environments. but that’s really only because of the crowded fucking hermes cabin. *tuts, rolls eyes, and shakes head* i’m tired of it being so crowded. and i can see how miserable it makes everyone having to live like that. *takes a breath* i can see myself in a smaller, cozier environment with tori, though. *looks over at her and takes her hand*

Ecru - Do you have curly, wavy, or straight hair?

tori: my hair is naturally wavy, but very softly wavy. if you weren’t looking close enough, you wouldn’t notice.

luke: *shrugs* pretty straight, i guess

Sugar cookie - What reminds you of your childhood?

luke: i thought you said that last question was the last one!

me: *curls up in chair, hides behind clipboard and mutters* you don’t have to answer this one

luke: *looks away moodily*

tori: *takes his hand into both of hers and gently strokes the top* hot cocoa, of course. softly sung lullabies. the sound of the guitar or violin. music in general, really. warm hugs. my brother practicing his lines either by himself or with me or my mom. when my mom would read to me and voice act all the characters. dan practicing the violin--badly. my mom humming from the kitchen.

Graphite - Do you like to draw? If so, do you draw often? What do you like to draw?

tori: um...i actually do like to draw. mostly sketching, honestly. i don’t draw all that often, though. maybe once or twice every few months. *shrugs* don’t really have the time. i like practicing guitar more. when i do draw, i like sketching places and things, mostly. *blushes then mumbles* sometimes i’ll sketch luke.

luke: i leave that stuff to the apollo kids. i’m more of a con and pavement artist.

me: boo

luke: *rolls eyes* can we go now?

me: your fans thank you

luke: our what now?

me: bye!

ahh, sorry this took me so long! i got self-conscious again...

also i’m be supremely busy with grad school oTL

it’s the end of the semester, the profs were threatening a strike (which may not be happening anymore, hopefully??? we’ll see come april 30) and i just have...a ton of shit to do before the semester ends in both academics and housing/storing my shit/moving back to my home state

RIP me

bonus: i picked capricorn based on a plausible time he could’ve been born according to the books, but also based on the description of capricorn. i think he really fits that zodiac. also, i actually picked tori’s b-day before this, but scorpio fits her well. glad it worked out XD

#oh god for shame! i do not even know your name #notesofananonymousnight #asked and answered #luke castellan #oc: tori williams #itps

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linkverse · 7 years

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this is the first prompt i’ve taken on!! i still haven't gotten to the others but don’t worry i will!! as far as the length of these... i’m kind of just winging it until i’m satisfied with it.

this features completely mute!Link and an OMC named Ryn who will steal your heart if i did this right lmao

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

He has a lot of time after the battle. It's all short days and long nights. He doesn't seem to sleep much. He's always tried to abstain front the regular recreational activities that the locals are accustomed to. Eventually it catches up with him. He's restless. He spent so many sleepless nights in his journey that he forgot what it was like to lay his head down without any worries lingering in the back of his mind. He needed an outlet. That much was clear. Zelda tells him to start small, and try to start enjoying his life again.

“You should try and enjoy yourself. Who knows when the land will fall victim to chaos again.”

It's not something he wanted to think about, but he supposes that she's right. She's far too busy for him though. She doesn't have any time to go gallivanting around with him. He spent some time home for a short while. He was home for a solid seven days before he rose one morning and decided that he just couldn't work at the ranch any longer. There was a jitter in his bones. There was a fire dancing in his heart. There was a voice screaming in his war-conditioned mind that he needs more. He can't tend to goats like he used to.

So he sets out with Epona to see if they can find a way to get close to a different way of existing. He loves her, she's his companion, but sometimes it's not enough. Since his circumstances would allow it, he craves company; any company that will have him.

As much as he'd like to think he’s immune to it, he's lonely. Saving everyone was never about the recognition. It was the right thing to do regardless. But it didn't feel as worth it when he's left with no one at the end of it all. The loneliness hurts most at night. He feels an ache in his chest when he wakes from dreams of Midna amongst the stream of nightmares that he usually has. He loved her as he would a comrade in battle. But overtime his heart softened to her. When he saw her restored to her natural form, his heart sped with wonder and affection. And for a moment, only a moment, he saw himself happy. Happy with her.

But their worlds were never meant to mix. And so they exist realms away now.

He’ll find a way to come to terms with it and smile back at the memories that he has of their time. He always can make light when there seems to be nothing but darkness.

He finds himself at Telma’s. He doesn't recognize some of the faces there. Ever since the kingdom was taken back, Castle Town has been thriving. He decides that maybe it's not such a bad idea to relax and have a drink. He can think of a lot of people that would want him to. Maybe even encourage it. Just one though. He's never liked the idea of impairment. He likes to be clear headed always.

Shad is there reading. He doesn't know why the guy doesn't just do that in a library. He sees a few soldiers that he recognizes but can't remember their names. There are two people sitting at the bar. Link was going to find a place in-between them but he decides last minute to sit at the end where he's out of conversational range.

Which is silly because he came here to socialize and be normal, didn’t he? If he was so lonely he should do something about it. But here he is again putting himself in the corner.

Telma greets him with an affectionate gesture. Her hand ruffles his hair that's become a bit unruly in recent weeks. She runs her hand along the stubble on his chin and laughs. He slaps her hand away lightly, feeling self conscious. He could be blushing, who knows. She has a habit of embarrassing him like that. Around Telma he constantly has to convince himself that he's the grown man that he knows he is.

She tells him she'll be right back and he sees her briefly converse with the other customers at the bar. He sighs out heavily, feeling foolish. He isn't sure what he's doing here. This was a stupid idea.

Suddenly a something slides down the bar and amber liquid swishes from side to side for a moment in the shallow glass. He looks up questioningly and Telma is striding back over to him. She's got a devious little smirk painted on her face as she leans in to speak.

She rests on her elbows the bar and points subtly over to one of the patrons down across the way.

“That young man down there said you look like you could use a drink, honey.” She winks at him.

He looks down the bar. He's not sure why everyone thinks he should drink but he's curious who the stranger is. He's looking over with a glint in his dark eyes as he sips his own drink. He has dark brown hair pulled back in a short ponytail, and stray hair strewn out around his face. His skin is fairly tanned by the sun and his clothes are utterly plain. His shirt isn't laced up tight enough, leaving his chest slightly exposed. Link thinks he looks silly. But then he figures it's one of those instances where he's coming up with internal unspoken insults to hide his own embarrassment.

He feels foolish; he doesn't know if he can actually drink the liquid in front of him. He's slightly afraid of intoxication. He wholly and completely trusts himself... but he's heard stories about what alcohol can make people do. He's not fond of the possibilities. He snaps his head away from the man… or boy… or however old he is Link can't even tell. He stares at the drink instead. He hears a chuckle from his general direction. He makes Link uncomfortable, but in a familiar sort of way.

It reminds of something that he can't put his finger on. He's getting antsy. Telma is looking over at him with a slight frown. She nods her head, urging him to accept the drink form the stranger. He picks it up. He's going to sniff it but think maybe it would look rude. So instead he downs it. Which was, in all senses of the phrase, easier said than done. The liquid burns on its way down. He feels like he's okay besides the awful sharp taste of it. But then his stomach feels warmer than usual. He feels a little fuzzy but not quite dizzy. Then he realizes he didn't finish all of it. He goes for it and chokes a little, coughing as he grips the counter.

There a hand patting him on the back hard and it gets him to sit up straight as one final cough leaves him. He looks back gripping his chest through his tunic. It's him.

“Sorry.” He laughs mischievously. “You alright?”

Link blinks hard and then shakes his head yes.

“What's your name?”

Link sighs. This is always the hardest part.

“Alright.” His eyes shift behind his dark bangs. Link sees now that his eyes are dark grey. “Well I'm Ryn.”

Link wishes he would sit instead of hover.

“I don't get your name?” He questions softly, and Link feels a little out of his depth.

Suddenly Telma is there and she has a hand on her hip. Link gulps and nods when she looks at him.

“His name is Link.” She says quick and then turns away, looking busy.

“He can't tell me himself?” He says a little too loudly. It makes Link shrink in on himself more. This is not his element.

He doesn't have to be able to speak to wield a sword.

Telma storms back over, clearly impatient with the rambunctious customer.

“No.” She scolds. “He can't.”

And Link watches Ryn’s reaction as Link palms his neck. He tries to show some kind of affirmation through his expression. Something looks like its clicking. The gears are turning.

“You can't speak?” He asks.

Link shakes his head no.

Ryn sits down on the stool next to Link, looking contemplative enough to make Link laugh.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “Sorry, that was rude.” He looks at Links face and waits for a reaction because that's all he can really hope for. Link smiles. Ryn smiles back. Maybe this isn't so difficult after all.

Link likes to listen to him talk. Ryn has a lot to say. He's a traveler, so Link can relate. He's from a land that Link is sure he's never heard of. He doesn't stay in one place for very long but he doesn't really have anywhere he's going either. There's probably nothing wrong with that.

They have another drink. Link doesn't down this one in one go, thankfully.

He makes a lot of jokes and he knows a lot about fishing which piques Links interest the most. He starts to feel a little tired. He's blaming it on the drink but he wants to keep listening. Link doesn't know how many hours have passed by. But he figures it's been enough hours when he looks around and everyone is gone.

Telma is wiping down the counter with a rag.

“I'm closing up. You boys should get home.”

Wherever that is, Link thinks to himself.

When link gets up he stumbles a little. Ryn catches him with laughter rising up in his voice and makes sure he doesn't lose his balance a second time. There are hands on him, helping him up in a firm grip, feeling warm even through clothes.

“You don't drink huh?” He asks.

Link shakes his head as he regains his balance enough to successfully exit the bar. They walk in silence out of the alleyway as onto the street. Its dark out and there isn't a soul in sight. Link tenses for some reason and it's visible.

“What's wrong? Scared of the dark?” Ryn asks teasingly.

And that's laughable because of course he isn't. He's take on the dark and much more than that. He's more afraid of human interaction than anything else. He wishes he felt as sure of himself with things like this as he did in battle.

He just smirks. Ryn can pick up on how his composure softens in the moons light. He hums to himself as he sits down on a nearby bench. He gestures for link to join him.

Link thinks he's made a friend and it's nice not to save a whole village before someone reaches out to him. He sits down. He thinks maybe they're sitting a little too close. He still isn't sure how close is too close. Personal has always been a foreign concept to him. Ryn seems unbothered by it.

“I wish…” Ryn starts, voice soft. He's looking at Links eyes. “I wish you could tell me something about you. Anything.”

Link heart seems to skip a beat. He's not sure why. There's something in the air that's making his skin buzz right under the surface. He wishes he could. But when he opens his mouth to speak the words, no sounds leave his lips. The dejection kicks in again. He's not offended... just reminded where he's lacking.

“Hey,” he says. And his hand is closed around Links, snapping his attention back up to look at his face. Ryn’s hand feels warm in the cold air of the night. “I didn't mean it like that. There's nothing wrong with that.”

Link smiles. He feels pliant with this person. He doesn't really know him. But he feels a pull regardless of that. He knows he probably won't see this person again. The thought makes him tighten his grip. He’s taught himself to ignore that feeling of becoming attached to someone. But in moments like these... quiet ones, it seems more difficult.

Ryn angles in toward him. He’s close in a way where Link thinks he's going to tell him a secret. But that’s ridiculous because there's no one here but the two of them. And then as Ryn still holds his hand, the other lightly touches his chin and lifts his head. He's awfully close, close enough to feel puffs of breath on his lips, and Link doesn't seem to know whether he should move or not.

His heart is beating hard in his chest and he's confused but waiting. Just waiting.

It's the oddest sensation when Ryn's lips touch his because it's soft. It's such a soft touch and the press of the kiss is there for only a short moment, but it rings clear in his head that this was something he was completely willing to do. It should come as a shock but he welcomes the gesture as he realizes that this is okay. He’s okay with this.

He filtered the implications of Ryn's advances through his head to somehow equate to suggesting a friendship. But it was clear that these gestures were far too tender to mistake as such a thing.

Even now as he takes in Ryn's gaze and searches Links face for a sign of rejection, Link feels his heart swell with fleeting affection.

He breathes out and leans back in. And kisses him with more force than he meant to display. But Ryn doesn't seem to mind, returning the kiss with eager lips and wandering hands.

It's strange – and it's new. Link doesn't fully understand it yet but he knows that it's something he'll let continue just to see what happens. They kiss in the moonlight, sense of time foreign to them. Ryn explores his mouth with clear intent and Links body reacts to it. He feels a little hot even out in the cold air. He feels like he can't breathe properly, lips and tongue occupied in a dance that hasn't ceased since the moment it was initiated. He reaches up to pull at his collar and Ryn pulls it open for him and slides his hand around Links neck, hands sliding over his bare skin.

Link realizes in his mind through the haze on lips on lips and hands on skin, that he would spend more time with this person. He would lie down next to this person and return affectionate touches for hours on end. He would. It's such a sudden feeling but he finds himself pulling Ryn closer. It's all he has to communicate what he wants.

They get a little lost in each other. Link wishes it could last longer but the sun will rise and he and this person will have to go their separate ways.

Ryn stand suddenly, looking flustered and mischievous. He takes hold of Links hand and leads him out past the gates and ushers him into he wagon he has in the plains outside of town. Link always imagined his first time to be with a woman. But he’s hardly upset about it being a man.

It’s all soft. He handles Link like he’s made of glass. Which is nice for a change. Ryn doesn’t speak at all. Link thinks he’s doing it on purpose as a comfort. The silence makes him remember everything.

Time passes through touches and kisses, and then eventually in slumber.

When his eyes blink awake, the sky is dim and with very dull light. It seems to be very early in the morning. Ryn is pulling clothes back over his head and Link blushes purely from the memory of their actions. Link follows suit, feeling utterly exposed. Ryn laughs softly when he takes in Links flustered actions. He kneels down and ties the fastenings of his tunic for him. Link watches as his fingers work over the buckles and ties.

He looks up at his face and kisses him sweetly.

“I hope to meet you again one day.” He whispers.

Link says goodbye with his eyes. He hopes so too.

Time will tell.

#loz #fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt fic #link/omc #mute!link #fic #asks

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chikarubys-blog · 8 years

Text

i guess it was always you. - chapter 1

summary: AU where you get a tattoo whenever you fall in love - You and Riko never got off to the right start, but fate seemed to always intervene in their agreement of mutual hatred.

ships: mainly youriko, side kanaruby and yohamari

ao3 link

Riko had thrown out everything.

The sheets she slept next to her in, the hair clip she always told her she loved, the books she bought for her, and even some of the clothes she was fondest of.

If she could help it, she’d never be reminded of her again.

The only thing she had left was her rose.

You watched as yet another girl throw a tantrum.

“You know what? I’m sick of this! I’m sick of you pretending, and sneaking out to bars every night- yes, I know you sneak out!”

You was honestly expecting she’d snap earlier. This one was too uptight.

“I’m done with you! This tattoo is easily the worst thing to ever happen to me!”

Oh, she’d heard that line too many times for it to hurt anymore.

“Bye, You.” The door slammed.

Second one this month.

They said to be weary of people with too many tattoos- they’ll steal your heart, and break it just as easily.

Well, in You’s case, they were wrong.

Riko tapped her shoe against the table, groaning. Her date was supposed to be here a few minutes ago, and punctuality was key for any relationship.

(At least, that was what the website had said.)

She rubbed her neck worriedly, trying to distract herself, subconsciously covering up her tattoo. When she realized what she was doing, she threw her hand onto the table.

Acceptance. Acceptance. Acceptance. That was important.

(That was also what the website had said.)

Finally, she showed up. She was in a leather jacket and somewhat baggy jeans, with hair brushed through a few times and circles under her eyes. “Sup.”

“You looked hotter in your profile.”

The other girl scoffed. “What a wonderful thing to say on a first date.”

Riko turned her head to the side. “You were late and you probably prepared within 30 seconds. If you won’t go by first date formalities, I won’t, either.”

“Fair enough.” She sat down at her seat and pulled the chair in. “Even, then?”

“Hardly,” Riko responded, but held out her hand. “Riko Sakurauchi. You?”

She grinned lopsidedly, high-fiving the hand instead of shaking it. “You Watanabe. Pleasure’s all mine.”

“Definitely.”

Well, the date went about as well as it started.

Insults were shot across the table, shocking other customers, thinking them as mortal enemies instead of possible lovers. However, they both seemed to enjoy it; it took the pressure off, for Riko, and it was simply new to You.

“Then I suppose it’s mutual - I never want to see you ever again.”

“Awh, babe, this was so fun though!”

“Spare me the sarcasm, You Wannabe.”

“That’s not my name and you know it.”

Riko grabbed her purse and walked off, flipping her hair over her shoulder, ignoring anything else You may have shouted behind her. She was tempted to flip her off, but she thought a lady should never do such a thing.

(As she saw in the reflective glass of the restaurant windows, however, You had no such qualms.)

Kanan sighed, putting her face in her hands. “I’ve never seen a relationship, even for you, end so quickly.”

“It was never technically a relationship, you know.”

Kanan glared at her. “You know what I mean. Come on, you have to put some effort in to find someone you love.”

You sighed, resting her hands behind her head. “I date to find love, but it never works out, and I go on new adventures,” she responded.

“You have to give them more than a day or two of chance, You! I don’t believe you expect to love anyone; you have to believe it to see it, you know.” Kanan crossed her arms. “My tattoo didn’t appear for Ruby until a few years had passed!”

“I could never wait that long, and you know it.”

Kanan sighed. “Promise me you’ll at least try next time?”

You nodded, but they both knew she was lying. Kanan was too annoyed to say anything further.

Kanan’s phone rang from inside her purse, and as soon as she checked the screen, she broke into a smile. “Hey, honey!”

Gross.

Kanan smiled wider, nodding, even though the recipient couldn’t see her. “Yes, yes, good- Dia won’t be chaperoning, will she?” She laughed, a smile warm on her face. “No, I was just kidding, I know that was just a one-time thing; you can’t blame me for teasing you for it, though, can you?”

Kanan looked so unbelievably happy, talking to Ruby. Absentmindedly, You looked down at her arm to see her tattoo; an unnaturally pink cat, closed eyed and joyful.

At that moment, she wanted a soulmate more than ever.

So undeniably gross.

Kanan hung up, stuffing her phone away. Her eyes gleamed in anticipation. “Hey, You, guess where we’re going tonight?”

She hated this outfit. There were too many frills and not enough skin-covering fabric. The skirt stopped just below mid-thigh, making for a perfectly uncomfortable outfit. She had to resist the urge to hold it down. Did maids even actually wear this anymore? Did they even exist anymore? For how often she’d seen one, they were just as mythical as unicorns, or perhaps dinosaurs, if they did once roam.

“You ready, Riko?”

Riko grumbled, looking up and glaring at Mari. “I hate Thursdays.”

Mari grinned, winking. “You know, without Thursdays, there’s no Friday!”

“How in the world is Friday any better.”

As if on cue, Yohane shot out of her dressing room. “It’s devil night Friday, of course!” She, of course, was also dressed as a maid, but she had black tights where Riko had white skin. Riko grumbled in jealousy; if she got these privileges, she’d date Mari any day.

“So beautiful, Yohane! As one of your little devils, I’m simply in awe!” Mari fanned herself, obviously exaggerating. “Oh, Yohane, what can I do to ever be noticed by you?”

Riko corrected herself; no, she would never date Mari in a million years.

As much as she loved her friends, they could go over the top. On Thursdays, at Mari’s Diner, it was maid night; may as well put a neon flashing sign on the restaurant, “PEDOPHILIC MEN’S NIGHT!” They did have the flashing sign, but it would never say anything to dement the business.

The one thing she can be thankful for tonight is that if men even reach a hand up to touch her, Yohane or Mari will come in, guns blazing- or, fists blazing. Mari’s Diner has a reputation for being dangerously sexy, but if you take action, you’ll get a fist to the face.

Plus, whenever there was a girl’s table, she would be sent over there. Perhaps they knew she couldn’t handle herself as well as them.

This night, however, it worked against her.

She approached her table after being pushed out of the kitchen by Mari. “Hi, how can I help you?” A familiar face turned toward her. First, the girl was all smiles, then her face dropped into confusion for a moment, then complete nonchalance.

“Oh, hi.” Honestly, it was just her luck.

Riko looked down in masked surprise to see her earlier date. Her smile suddenly seemed more forced than usual. “Here are the menus; would you like to start out with something to drink?” She tried to bend over as less as possible as she passed the menus around, as not to expose her. She could feel a blush seeping into her cheeks.

“Ah, yes, waters are fi-”

“Who’s outfit is awful now?”

Riko blinked in surprise. She’d thought it was mutual; they’d pretend they didn’t know each other. “Excuse me?”

You smirked, while Kanan watched on in horror and Ruby in confusion.

“You, you can’t say that to our waitress-”

Kanan’s muttered words were cut off as You continued. “I may have had dirty clothes, but they were dirty in the sense of dirt, not like…. This.”

Riko’s blush only grew. “Ma’am, this was my company’s decision-”

“Come on, enough with the excuses. At least I’m wearing something decent.”

Riko’s eyebrows raised, and she said nothing as Kanan took You by the hood, blabbering apologies, and slapped a hundred dollar bill on the table. “I’m terribly sorry, I need to go have a talk with my-” she turned her head to You- “friend outside.”

And so Riko was left, stunned, with only a redhead at the table, laughing nervously.

“H-hi…”

Riko smiled apologetically at the girl. “Sorry, me and that girl….. We had an altercation earlier. Would you like to request a new waitress?”

Ruby’s eyes flicked to the door, and shook her head. “N-no…. I promise, after she talks her down, You will be much more polite.”

The waitress nodded, still standing at the table. “Well then, would you like something to drink?”

#my writing #youriko #kanaruby #yohamari #fanfiction #txt

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weareallfallengods · 4 years

Text

Repost bcz the 1st one is too far down my blog

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

Some neanderthal interrupted my deep contemplation of the double whiskey sour in front of me. Which was very rude. Whiskey sours demand your undivided attention and get cranky if ignored for too long. He should have known that, but either he didn’t know or didnt care, so either way- neanderthal.

He was leaning on the bar with the casual air of someone who has done this same dance too many times, the practiced ease of a used car salesman slapping the roof of a car. At least this one’s breath wasn’t too foul. Not that this hadn’t happened before. Oh no, I’d never been badly hit on in this bar like ten thousand times already. No that never happened. I was able to just sit in peace with my drink for the entire night. Yeah, right. Why do I keep coming back then, you ask? Well, Grace makes one hell of a whiskey sour for one thing.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Ugh, this one wasn't going away with simply being ignored. Lovely.

“Excuse me?” I looked over languidly, with as much disdainful irritation on my face as I could possibly muster from the depths of my three-drinks-in soul.

“I said, ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

His stupid shit-eating leer didnt help my mood any. I wasn’t ever in a good mood if I showed up here, and that’s probably one of the reasons I kept coming back- assholes like this gave me a vent for my foul mood.

“No actually. It’s less of a fall and more of a stumble really. More like getting tossed out of a club by a bouncer than falling down the stairs. Couple of bruises, a minor scrape, more damaged pride than anything really.”

I could see his monkey-brain churning slowly to try and digest my response that didn’t fit his pre-programmed scenario. I half expected to see steam coming out of an ear. God, some men are just so... ew.

“Um, what?”

Apparently I broke him. Well, that happens sometimes, when I give someone a response they weren’t expecting. Which happens more often than I’d be willing to admit to myself.

“I said that getting tossed out of heaven doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think it would. It’s not that far of a tumble really.”

He chuckled, “That’s real cute darlin’, never heard that one before! How’s about you and me find a table so I can hear more about it? Maybe have a look at those bruises, make sure you don't need more…attention.”

Sweet Mother of Mikhail, that was bad. Like even worse than his initial pickup line. I almost had to respect his commitment to such a shitty way of trying to pick me up. He had some balls, that’s for sure, either from drunken stupidity or pure ignorant self-confidence. They say that bravery and stupidity go hand in hand, and here was their shining example.

“Believe me sweetie, you don’t want my 'attention’,” I said softly, for the first time raising my eyes to lock with his glazed gaze. “My attention can become very… uncomfortable.”

He started to smirk for just a split second, but when my eyes met his, both the smirk and the color melted from his face. His mouth hung slack as he felt his soul staring down the opening fiery abyss that he found reflected in my eyes. I watched his mind recoil in horror at the emptiness it saw as it tried futilely to pull back from the horror of empty infinity it was confronted with. I saw in his eyes the sudden awareness of how small and insignificant his place in the universe was, and shrink in horror, trying to flee internally only to find that there’s no escape from your own mind and the finality of human existence.

I looked away just as his eyes started to roll back in his head. No need to cause a scene with him passing out. After all, my whiskey sour was crying from being ignored. As they do.

“I think you should probably go home now Blake,” I demurred softly. “You’ve probably had enough, and your wife would be happy if you tucked the children into bed for once. Oh, and coffee won’t remove the smell of alcohol, so just have a peppermint. Your kids like that smell, reminds them of Christmas.”

He kind of half nodded, like a sleepwalker. I sighed. Hopefully he doesn't have an existential crisis later and just shrugs it off as being too drunk. Hell, maybe he’ll cut back on the sauce. I hate it when I hear about someone offing themselves after meeting me, especially if they have kids. Well, hopefully he just takes the daily inebriation down a notch or two. I can hope, can’t I?

As he shuffled off, lager forgotten at the bar, I hoped he’d be alright. Genuinely. Sure, I enjoyed taking my frustration at being stuck here out on them, but I didn't actually wish them lasting harm. A lesson or two in politeness and decency, a minor scuffle to break up the monotony, but no real damage. That’s what I told myself anyway. Made it easier to pretend to sleep at night. Hope he makes it home ok. Hope his kids get a happy memory of daddy saying goodnight for once. Hope he says he loves his wife, and apologizes. Hah. Yeah. Like that’ll happen. But, what can I say, I’m a foolish optimist at heart. And nothing hurts more than having your hopes crushed. I should know.

Damn. My drink was crying, a small puddle of condensation soaking into the bar napkin it rested on. Again. Another sigh. And one more for the first sigh. I hate sighing. It’s the most comprehensive sound of the acceptance of defeat ever created. The acknowledgment of futility. And I hate that. I thought I’d be fighting to the bitter end, but apparently Destiny had other plans. Fucking Destiny. She’s the whole reason I’m even drinking in the first place.

“Get you a fresh one?”

A sweet silver-bell tinkle of a voice broke my unintentional reverie. Grace was back, checking on me. She knew my peccadilloes by now. She knew how much I hated when my drink got watered down by the ice melting if it got ignored for too long. I nodded.

She smiled pleasantly and slid over a new drink, already prepped.

“I figured, after that creep pounced on ya.”

I frowned slightly. There was something different about this one. Hunh. Oh, the ice. There wasn’t any. There were two black cubes sitting in it instead. OK, why are there rocks in my drink?

I looked up at Grace, still slightly puzzled.

“Oh those? Yeah I noticed you didn’t like it when your drink gets watered down, so I bought some Irish whiskey stones! That way your drink stays cold, but doesn't dilute. Got 'em special, just for you.”

I cocked one eyebrow slightly, “Just for me?”

“Yep! Let’s face it, you’re the only one who comes in here with that kind of class, so I put 'em in the freezer back here with a big 'ol note so Jimmy doesn’t think I’m crazy for keeping rocks in the fridge,” her airy chuckle sprinkled across my ears.

I stared. I was in shock. OK, well maybe I’m being dramatic, but I was still surprised. People don’t normally do nice things for me. Or to me for that matter. If I’m honest, they mostly run away.

“Why…” I couldn't even formulate a coherent sentence. Jesus, get yourself together!

“I dunno, I just figured you don't seem like you have anyone looking out for you, and you seem to attract a lot of the wrong sort of attention, so I thought you could use a nice surprise, y’know, cheer you up a little.”

I nodded, more in surprise than agreement. I literally couldn’t recall the last time someone voluntarily tried to do something nice, just for me, no hope or expectation of reward or compensation. I was probably silent a little too long for a comfortable conversation. Hey, I was revelling in the new experience, cut me some slack.

“Well. Wow, um, thanks.” Yeah real smooth. Sweet Mikhail’s Grave I have no idea how to actually talk to this woman.

In retrospect, that should have been my first clue, but hey, I was a little distracted.

“I appreciate it, that’s really sweet of you.” Ok that’s slightly less glaringly awkward.

“Not trying to be rude at all, but I gotta ask- what’s your deal? Like you come in here all the time, lookin’ like a million bucks, never talk to anyone, get in fights every so often, get harassed like every single time but you keep coming back? I mean, I’m not trying to pry if you don’t wanna talk, but you know, like I’m totally trying to pry!”

Now it was my turn to stare slack-jawed. Oh Fates, how your twists are cruel. I closed my mouth a lot faster than the sot from earlier though, so my pride wasn't too damaged.

“It’s kind of a long and uninteresting story really. Mostly, you make the best whiskey sour. And the people here are…interesting.”

“Honey, there’s no way a story coming from someone who looks like that,” she waved generally up and down at me, “could possibly be boring. Plus, it’s slow, as always, so humor me.”

Sometimes, I can be kind of thick. Slow. Moronic. A nincompoop. A maroon. Several minutes of conversation with this girl and I only just now noticed- she hadn’t looked away from my eyes. She was meeting my gaze with no problem. She wasn't sweating and shaking and passing out. She was looking me right in the eye, just like a normal person, no fear showing on her face. No reaction at all. Just a normal girl, having a normal conversation, with what she thought was another normal person.

“Are…you OK?” Grace looked a bit concerned.

Aw shit, I was staring, and not even trying to hide it. Well now I felt dumb. And, why did I feel dumb? What was up with this girl that she made me feel so self conscious, so uncomfortable, like one of those fainting goats that just freezes and falls over when you blink too hard at them. Speaking of blinking really hard.

“Um, oh, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Really. Sorry, just not many people actually want to have a real conversation with me.”

Grace leaned over the bar a little, propping up on her elbows, lowering her tone a bit. “Well, I don’t know why, 'cuz you sure seem hella interesting to me.”

“Hunh. Well, I don't know about that. But I would like to ask you something first, if you don't mind?”

“Fire away honey!”

“This might sound odd, but, why aren’t you looking away? What do you see when you look at me?”

She pulled a tiny bit closer. “Nothin’ more than just about the sparkly-est green eyes I ever seen; a dash of blue, like the Bahamas. Somethin’ else I can't quite put my finger on…” as she trailed off, I felt her finger lightly brush the knuckles on my hand that was still holding my drink. “I kinda wanna find out though.”

OK, now that was smooth. Holy fuck, that was really, really smooth. Like two hundred year old Laphroaig single malt filtered through the blessed socks of His Holiness the Pope smooth. Hold up, now she was trying to pick me up? What the hell universe? What’s going on here?

I swallowed, unable to look away now myself. “That’s all? Nothing that scares you?”

“Not yet, sugar.”

Alright, that’s different.

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

I grabbed her hand. Maybe a little too hard from the slight wince I saw.

“OK we need to leave. NOW.”

“Hold up honey, we were just talkin’, we ain’t there yet!” She tried pulling back a little.

“No, no, you don’t understand! I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be able to see that. I can’t explain right now, but we have to figure out how you can see me that way.”

“But my shift’s not over for a couple more hours!”

“OK OK, I’m not being clear, sorry, this is the first time this has happened, so I’m a little shaken.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She actually blushed a little. “I just saw how you shot down every guy who came up to you, and I thought….well, you know, maybe…omg I’m sorry I didn't mean to upset you! I come on strong sometimes, when I’m interested in something, and when you first walked in, I saw those heels and that dress, and I just was like ‘oh wow’ and kinda couldn’t breathe for a minute, you know I don't see many girls come here lookin’ like that and oh God now I’m babbling and someone please shut me up I'm so sorry…”

I put a finger over her lips, gently.

“I’m not upset. Far from it actually. But we have something a tiny bit more urgent than that to address. I’m not who you think I am. Or what, I should say. But more to the point, there’s something bigger going on here. And I need to find out what. Fast.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad I hit on you?”

“We don’t have time for that now!” She recoiled slightly at my vehemence. “No, I’m not upset, but that’s not the point! You shouldnt be able to see my eyes. My real ones anyway. I was too slow on picking that up right away, and I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, now, because something is different, and in my world, that’s never a good thing.”

“Your world?”

I was getting frustrated. “Yes, but I’ll explain later! I need you to come with me now. We need answers, and we need them fast. So, do you trust me?”

She hesitated. “Yeeeeees? I think? Like I wanna, but I don’t really know you?”

“Good enough for now! Let’s go!”

To her credit, she just dropped her bar towel, grabbed her phone from under the bar and came out from behind it, grabbing my hand as she yelled to the back, “Hey Jimmy! I gotta leave! Personal thing- cover for me?”

Just then, there was a bit of a commotion at the door. Grace turned to look, but I didn’t need to. I already knew what was there. I just clutched her hand even tighter and yanked her towards the back; there was an emergency exit near the bathrooms from what I remembered of that one really bad 'birthday’. Yeah, that was a bad one. But we ran.

Good thing I’m not super tall, wouldn’t want to draw attention, I thought to myself sarcastically. Goddamn heels. Why do I even wear these?

Sounds of glass breaking and shouting reached us as we plowed through the emergency exit into the alleyway. Don’t worry about that now, just keep moving.

“This way!” I pulled her to the front of the alley.

“Holy shit, that’s your bike?” She sounded genuinely impressed. Finally, I wasn’t the only one who had that reaction at seeing it.

“Oh yeah, she’s a sweet ride, and perfect for this situation. Or any situation, really. Jump on.”

I probably should have shut the door behind us, but hey, it was a day for me missing obvious things. The noise coming from the bar was getting louder.

“I’ve never done this before!” Grace exclaimed excitedly in my ear as I kicked my beast to life.

We roared out into the street, my white and gold Valentino’s left sparkling on the pavement where I kicked them. Fuckin’ useless, beautiful shoes. Sigh, they weren’t cheap. Oh well, they’re just shoes.

“Where are we going!?” Grace yelled over the rush of wind whipping our hair like tiny flails of purgatory.

“Not sure yet! But we’re going to find out!”

“I don't even know your name!”

My heart sank a bit.

“Don't worry! Neither do I! ”

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

The bar exploded behind us as it faded into the night thanks to the fabulous Ducati between our legs. Oh and that wasn’t metaphorical- I glanced in the mirror at the sound; it literally exploded. Ball of fire and all. I guess that’s to be expected, what with all the alcohol and what I’d suspected for a while was going on in the basement. Way too many flammable liquids in one place. But that didn't really matter now. All that mattered was getting away from what caused the explosion as fast as we possibly could.

“What the hell was that!?” Grace yelled in my ear. Again. I’m going to have to get some headsets or something if this is going to be a habit. Well, the riding together part, not the fleeing for our lives part anyway.

“I’ll explain as soon as we can talk, promise! For now, just hold on! And don't look behind us!"

“As if I’m gonna let go now!”

That glance in the rear view told me as much as I needed to know, which was more than I wanted, but enough to have an idea of what we were running from. I mean, I figured that’s what it was, but I’m still tired of being right, even after all this time. You’d think I'd be used to it by now.

That pale blue and red glow was enough. Hell, the noise it made had been enough for me to know what it was. And trust me, I was not overreacting by running first. I’d seen that color a few too many times in my life to think that there was anything else to be done except run. Once was more than enough for anyone. Who am I kidding? Most people don't get a chance to see it more than once. Guess I’m just lucky. Or the opposite. Pretty sure I’m the latter actually.

Grace was shivering on my back as we sped away. She’d gone quiet, her mood matching the night around us, the neon signs and street lights reflecting their multi-colored halos in the rain-slicked streets. Fog was starting to rise from the pavement, adding to the soft glow the streets were taking on. Thin, wispy strands curling around street lights and bus stops, blasted into nothing as the bike tore through them, the roar of the exhaust shattering the relative quiet of the late night calm.

Well, it should have been quiet anyway. The explosion of the bar kind of changed that. Then came the sound.

It mixed with the growing whine from the crotch rocket under us, which seemed like a fitting counterpoint to the cacophony of something that sounded like if you’d thrown a hundred maltese dogs into a tornado and then blasted it over a crappy school intercom. I hated that sound. Almost as much as the dogs it reminded me of.

“Aw shit, it saw us.” Time to see if the tires on this baby gripped as well as the kid at the shop claimed they did.

Well, at least there wasn’t too much traffic. Still, even though there weren’t many trucks and accountant-driven sedans to weave in and out of, there were still enough of them that it took a hell of a lot more concentration than my alcohol soaked brain was ready to deal with. Definitely hadn’t planned on being the next Lewis Hamilton after a night at the bar, that’s for damn sure.

“What the fuu….?” Grace’s expletive trailed off in the whipping wind as I kept us weaving in and out and through, gunning the shit out of my bike whenever there was an opening big enough to do so without turning us into extremely messy, if fashionable, pancakes.

“Try not to worry about it! OK I mean, yeah, worry, but not like understand worry!”

“How the hell do you not worry about...that!?”

I took a good look back for the first time as we whipped around a corner, using the rain-slick street to slide without losing any speed. My heart sank. At least it wasn’t in my throat choking me anymore. Sarcastic positivity in the face of death? Yeah that’s my jam. Even if I do keep it to myself. Most of the time anyway.

The damn thing was getting closer. Faster than I thought it could. Damn, tonight just wasn’t my night for noticing things, now was it?

That second of splitting my attention nearly sent us flying and a tired busboy standing at the corner bus stop to the hospital, but we only just missed him, with barely enough room to avoid slamming into the back end of something that should have been parked at a kids soccer game, not getting on the expressway at this time of night.

Slipping into an alley entrance, Grace’s nails dug through the flimsy material I was wrapped in, making me yelp in surprise.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

I was about to tell her it was cool, considering the circumstances, and given that I wasn’t sure if it made me jump because it hurt, or her hands were cold, or because of where they’d slid down to, when we blew out the other side of the alley, causing a literal postcard explosion from the stand I clipped as we bounced out on to the main road again, just in time to swerve hard to avoid becoming Penske poster-girls for a single truck.

"Sweet Jesus fuck! What the hell IS that?"

Goddammit, didn’t I tell her not to look back? I wasn’t going to tell her how the beast chasing us had seen us dart down the alley, and since it couldn't fit through the traffic as neatly as we could, silently charge down the side of the building, slamming into the same shop front that had so recently lost it's postcard stand as it tried to take the same corner, still snuffling the ground and air to track us. I managed to gain us a few precious seconds of lead as it disentangled itself from the fruit cart, re-launching itself down the alley, bicycle wheel still caught in it's whiskers that streamed and whipped behind it.

“It’s running fucking sideways on the buildings!”

Aw shit. She can see it. I was afraid of that.

And that was all the distraction it needed too.

With a last spring off the corner of an empty flower shop, the beast took a massive swipe at us. Come on, come on, make the corner! It's thick talons cut a blazing arc through the rain as it howled. One of its claws caught the rear end of the bike, knocking it heavily to the side, and nearly throwing Grace off. Good thing she’s got a death grip on my hips right now. Oh boy don’t think of that, too distracting right now, that’s how you get killed!

Grace screamed again as the bike was whipped around violently from behind, and Grace she was confronted with a vision not even her wildest nightmares could have come up with. At least, I hope she doesn’t have nightmares like this anymore.

The beast’s jaws opened wide to crush us like a nutcracker on adderall, glowing drool whipping around in thick, viscous strands from teeth bigger than my hand, while she seemed mesmerized by the halo of tentacle-like whiskers that seemed to float in slow motion, despite how fast everything was happening. The beast looked at me, it’s eyes burning red meeting mine as I tried to maintain my grip on the bike that was rapidly being torn from my hands. I was holding on to that tank with my knees in a way that would have made the Russian Women’s weightlifting team proud. I could hear the scream that tried to jump from Grace’s mouth only for it to turn into a slow rush of soundless breath as she slammed into my back from the force of me yanking that bike around as hard as I could possibly manage.

Ground. Street. Tires on. People off. Stay upright. Don’t let go. Run.

The bellow from the beast behind us meant nothing to me now. I was numb, my world narrowing to the few feet in front of me, and Grace behind me. Swerve. Dodge. Car. Bike. Red light. Faster. Green. Faster. Faster. Get away. Car. Car. Bus. Turn.

Suddenly the cars all dropped away. The turnpike. Oh thank God. I opened up the throttle all the way and finally realized I should probably start breathing again.

Grace was trying to yell something, probably wanting an explanation. I mean I can’t blame her, but I said I’d explain! Did it look like now was suddenly the time for it? Then again, maybe it was important.

I turned my head a bit to try to talk to her, but I paused with my mouth still open. The beast was gone.Like gone gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. Not even like really far away gone, just not there any more. I squinted. Yeah, that was a little too easy.

“Did we get away?”

I was actually about to answer her, when a glowing blue shape cashed into us from the side, just as I was starting to finally let my legs relax a little. Everything seemed to slow down. I know, everyone says that, but it’s true! I don’t know, maybe it was the whiskey sours, but as soon as we got hit, the world turned in to super slow-mo as the bike was ripped from my hands, and I felt Grace be pulled away from me.

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toastnekohime · 6 years

Text

By The Pulse Of A Heartbeat

Part five of a 2018 Camp NaNoWriMo Yu-Gi-Oh! GX Elementshipping novel. Based on rp’s between myself ( @getyouraoion ) and my amazing, precious Twin’s Jaden ( @kiibx ), By The Pulse Of A Heartbeat tells the story of how Aoi and Jaden met at Duel Academy and formed their incredibly tight friendship, eventually falling into a relationship, and how they handle the various threats thrown at them over their three years of schooling.

There are currently no triggers, but should any arise, they will be tagged.

STILL IN PROGRESS. Please forgive any typos you may find~

Tagging @starisia, as this wouldn’t exist without my wonderful Twin <3

Summary:

Duel Academy is the place to be, the dream school for many kids. Be it through intense studying, duel prep schools, scholarships, or being rich enough to buy their way in, most kids have had their sights set on it for a long time, knowing it to be the perfect place to start towards a career as a professional duelist. Someone has to Dethrone Yugi and take the title of King of Games, and everyone wants a shot!

Except that is, for Aoi Sakazaki.

Falling in love with Duel Monsters when her father bought her several cards in her childhood, she makes the choice to try her hand at the entrance exams, despite having no idea what she wants to do with her life… And just barely squeaks her way in. Her poor exams scores, combined with even poorer grades, land her a solid spot in the Academy’s Slifer Red dorm - The lowest of the low, where students are almost expected to drop out if they don’t advance to Ra Yellow or Obelisk Blue, first.

The rank comes with the rest of the school looking down on them, as well as the worst lodging the furthest distance from the main campus and fewest privileges compared to the other dorms. But it also brings a surprise friend in fellow Slifer student Jaden Yuki, who seems to have absolutely no problem with the hand they’ve been dealt.

It’s not long before Aoi and Jaden find themselves caught up in a whirlwind of an adventure, dealing with exams, classes, ‘evil’ teachers, and somehow still finding enough time to explore the island they now call home. But living on Academy Island isn’t all fun and games; shortly after their schooling begins, things around their home begin to change, and rarely for the better.

Neither friend has any idea what lies in wait for them in the next three years… But is it an adventure they’ll be able to tackle together, or will it end their time at the school - and them - before it’s even begun?

It’s time to put their skills where their mouths are and find out!

It took a day longer than she'd expected to finish her new uniform, but by the third day of classes, she'd swapped out her red skirt for the more familiar comfort of capris, blazer cut into a comfortable vest over a lighter shirt. As nice as her boots had been, it felt so much better to be out of those heels and into a different, flatter pair of calf-high boots. And though the outfit had gotten some stares and mumbles, it, thankfully, hadn't yet gotten her in trouble.

And yet, it wasn't worry of possible trouble that had Aoi outside her room the morning of their first saturday on the island, but the need for air and peace. Her room still stunk of the perfume Mia had used the night before... For such a petite girl, she wore an awful lot of perfume – Enough to drown a cow, never mind the slender teen. It wouldn't have been so bad if the scent was lighter, kinder to the nose, but a heavy dose of lilac and 'sunshine' definitely didn't help.

At least being outside helped ease the headache, the slight breeze coming off the sea more than refreshing. And it was quiet, to boot. Why was it a dorm with so few people still managed to be so loud? Music helped, although there was only so much it could do when the noise tried to drown it out in return.

Birds and waves crashing into the cliff behind the dorm was better for the time being, though she had to admit, she still missed her music—

Wait… That made no sense. Why was it so quiet?

“Last one there's a rotten fish!”

Pushing off the railing, Aoi tilted her head... Just to press herself back against it half a second later with a squeak of surprise, just barely avoiding a collision with a red blur that wasn't so lucky, stumbling over its own boots before finally catching itself. “Hey- Watch where y' go-”

“Hey sorry, I-”

Both comments came to a screeching halt, green-blue meeting long since familiar honey brown. She'd known he had a room on the second floor, but not that it was so close, or that he was even in it as often as it seemed he was... And for that matter, she couldn't even begin to remember where her voice had gone, or why she'd even stopped in the first place. “Y' couldda run m' over.”

Jaden gave a sheepish chuckle in return, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Didn't think there was anyone out here. Aren't ya usually in your room?”

“I'm n' sure how y' know that, b' n' today. Smells like a flower exploded.”

“...Flowers can explode?”

“Sniff m' door an' tell m', 'cause I'm pretty sure it's a scracth n' sniff card.”

To her surprise, the brunette laughed, relaxing as quickly as he'd barreled out of his room. Just hearing him laugh helped her relax as well, but the second he actually did step closer and jokingly scratch at the door, she'd taken an even larger step of her own back and away from him – and that was all it took to make him pause and give her a look like she'd just grown another head. “...Did I step on you or somethin'?”

“...N'. Jus'...” Just what? How did she explain she was uncomfortable with strangers? Or even more so with guys, and that he fell into both categories? The better question, though, was why she felt like she could tell him, shooting Syrus a glance as he finally joined them on the balcony. Maybe it was the fact he was still leaning over and inches from sniffing her door, or the dozens of times in the last few days they'd run into each other...

Whatever it was, it was enough to make her shake her head and tug at the tie of one of her pigtails. “I ah... Don't d' good with strangers. Or guys. Or any combination of 'em,”, she finally admitted, watching his confusion turn into a broad grin. Like always, his bright and sunny outlook seemed to make things easier, tugging slowing until she could finally bring her hands down and shove them into her pockets. “Sorry.”

“Hey, I'm not a stranger, I'm a Jaden! Jaden Yuki.”

“...Aoi Sakazaki.”

“See? No strangers here! We're goin' to check out the surf shop on the beach. Up for coming with?”

On one hand, she wanted to tell him no. Despite the introductions, he was still, technically, a stranger, and she had little interest in being any closer.

And yet on the other, there was something about his grin she couldn't say no to. His cheer was infectious, bringing back her smile in just seconds. It had to be better than sitting by a scratch and sniff door she swore was absorbing every bit of the perfume smell as it was, right? “I'm... N' sure...”

This time it was Syrus who smiled, slipping past her – careful not to get too close, something she'd later have to thank him for – and Jaden both for the steps. “It's gonna be an adventure! There's supposed to be a nice beach and the tide's out!”

“S' we could find some crabs?” The words were out before she could stop them, and by the time she realized she was even moving, she was halfway down the staircase, Jaden laughing behind her with his hands behind his head. “I haven't seen any yet. Have y'?”

“Heard frogs,” the brunette chirped, chuckling at the snort he got in reply as he came up to walk beside her, Syrus leading the trio towards the beach. “Nah. We've been all over, but haven't seen crabs yet. Why, you like crabs?”

“Jay... Girls don't like crabs...”

Aoi shook her head, though she knew Syrus couldn't see it or her smile for trying to derail the conversation, lest it get uncomfortable. “Small ones're cute, b' n' my favorites. That's pigs.”

The blunette tripped over his feet, Jaden slapping a hand over his mouth to try and hide the sputters before he broke down laughing. Was it really so surprising she'd like pigs? “Look here, they're cute an' like t' b' pet.”

“That's dogs, Aoi.”

“Pigs t'! Back home we've got a petting zoo with a big potbellied pig. He loves it when people pat him on th' head. Hair kindda reminds m' of another student's, t'...” She had to bite her tongue before Chazz's name came out. In the last few days, she'd run into the Obelisk four or five more times, each meeting falling into nothing but pure insults and sarcasm flung at one another. She'd come to find it fun, even, getting the chance to be as creative as possible while he kept coming back with the reminder she was nothing more than a 'Slifer Slacker'.

But if either of the boys wanted to ask, they made no indication of it, Jaden even catching her attention again with the most nonchalant shrug. “They're not bad. You don't play a pig deck, do ya? Though I bet that'd be somethin' to watch. A farm duel!”

Her next snort quickly turned into a laugh, winning her a look of surprise from both boys. Maybe these boys weren't so bad after all...? “Mm-mm. N' pig decks. I've got... Don't even have a theme, n' that I think 'bout it. Jus' m' favorite an' some backup.”

“Sounds like something fun to duel with! Hey, wanna see how your favorite is against my heroes?” he questioned, surprise quickly fading back into a smile, as always. She wasn't sure there was a second he could be anything but a ball of sunshine – And had they met for real at the exams, she was sure his cheeriness would've driven her crazy. Probably.

But even that wasn't enough to make her agree, head shaking as they followed the well-worn path towards the other side of the island. So he played a hero deck... “N' way, Jaden. Y' would cream m' in a second. I barely made it through th' entrance exams, an' definitely n' interested in getting' beat jus' yet.”

He seemed to take the rejection well, though she didn't miss the glimmer of disappointment in his eyes, hidden behind his usual grin. He was the kid who beat Dr. Crowler, famous among the school for that feat, or so she'd heard; why would she want to let Eria stretch her legs if all that awaited her was a hero punch to the face? And why did she feel the urge to say yes anyway when she knew he'd win in a single turn against her deck?

The brunette rolled his shoulders, the disappointment gone so fast she wondered if she'd imagined it. Either the idea of adventuring around the beach was enough to bring him back from it, or the sunlight was playing tricks on her... Whatever it was, she couldn't stop her own smile from pulling at her lips. “Maybe after I d' some tweakin'...?”

“Now you're talking my language! Need any help with it?”

“Considerin' I wouldn't know where t' start.... B' y' don't hafta.”

“Nah, it's totally fine. What's in your deck now?”

Her footsteps slowed, reaching behind her to flip open the case on her belt and pull her deck free. No more than half a second later, Jaden stopped with her, neither noticing Syrus continuing ahead without them. “Like I said, m' favorite,” she explained, passing the stack of cards to him as they came to a stop. “Eria th' Water Charmer an' Familiar-Possesed Eria. B' th' rest is jus' backup.”

And by the way he practically became the sun while he flipped through them, she could only imagine the plans he had in mind. “You've got a Luster Dragon in here? I've never seen one in person-! And there's an Aussa... Interested in help?”

“Y' really don't hafta-”

“Nope, I don't. But I want to. What's a friend for, right?”

Friend. They'd met all of possibly half an hour ago, and he already saw her a friend. Despite the fact she shouldn't have been surprised, she was, feeling her cheeks flush a bit. Again, if he noticed he didn't make any mention of it, rearranging her cards with Eria on top. “...Y' jus' met m'. How.. How can y' call m' a friend s' easily?”

“What, you need to know people forever to be friends?” His tone was light, lined with the barest hints of laughter. And when he gently took her hand, pressing her deck back into her palm, she couldn't find any reason to jump away from him. The defensive shell usually present whenever she was around others had melted off, leaving her to watch him run ahead a moment later, stop, and wave at her. “C'mon! Sy's already gone ahead!”

He had a point. What harm would there be in trusting him? He'd not given her a reason to keep her distance – yet, anyway – and even offered help... Her urge to keep away from him physically seemed to have fled, too, especially with how she was running ahead with a laugh to nudge his side. “Last one there's a rotten Mystic Tomato?”

Any surprise he'd had in her touch melted into a wicked grin, waiting for her to slide her deck into its case before replying. “More like does the others' homework for a day- and I'm gonna win that bet!” And in a flash he was off, Aoi giving a whine before following suit, quickly blowing past a startled Syrus. “Cheater!”

“Gotta keep up!”

“I plan on it!” she called back, barely three steps behind him with a laugh. Maybe having a friend in the boy wouldn't be so bad- Though she'd have to get used to his excitement, her gaze drifting to the ground under his feet. Jaden Yuki... Oh, how wrong she'd been at the exams. There was nothing weak about him- though he was easy to lose track of, raven ducking under a branch as their race hit the forest.

“Still back there?”

“Trust m', I'm gonna keep up with y' if it's th' last thing I d'!”

#By The Pulse Of A Heartbeat #starisia #kiibx #blackthvnder #Elementshipping #Part Five #Aoi and Jay finally meet for real <3 #I swear they're dorks agh #Precious butts XD #And a massive thank you to masqueradeandalice for helping with this part's proofing TwT <3 I owe you #<3 <3 <3 <3

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