#changed it a bit because I feel like Charlie would just bust out if push came to shove and Vaggie knows this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deadghosy · 4 months

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Can u write more of hc enderman reader? like one of the resident of the hotel spilled water on them bc enderman hate water and it hurts them, like how would the others react to seeing enderman reader get hurt by water😅

ENDERMAN! READER GETTING HURT

prompt: reader accidentally gets splashed by water. No one knew what could harm you until now.

CHARLIE

Charlie had told you a pipe busted in the bathroom as you nodded sighing with a slight croak teleporting. Leaving a bit of purple pixels behind as Charlie.

I’m not gonna lie, you didn’t know the pipe bust was so ugly. You scrunched your face up as you grabbed your tool box and opened it so you could grab your wrench and other needed.

As you worked in the damn pipe, the pipe fully combusted as water spills all over your body making your eyes widen. A huge screech erupts from your mouth as you spazzed out teleporting from the water as the water in your skin sizzles. You grip your arm and mostly body as Charlie runs to the room to see you panicking with glowing purple eyes.

“[READER]?!” Charlie yells shocked and concerned for you as she sees your skin practically boiling. She rushes to you and grabs a towel to dry you off as you screech having your jaw unhinged as you look away from her.

After she dried you off, you had to change clothes and stop working for 2 days as you had bandages on your arms mostly.

You still looked badass it’s just you had a frown like pout as Charlie apologizes a million times about how she didn’t know you could get harmed by water like that. But you calmed her down saying she didn’t know

And now every water duty was now alastor’s duty.

VAGGIE

I feel like vaggie would try to give you water not knowing it could harm you.

Idk how to explain this but she felt your head as you don’t feel well and she wanted you to drink water to cool down your heat from your body.

So what did she do? She grabbed you some water hoping you would take it but you didn’t want to as you shook your head no.

VAGGIE got tired of you “being stubborn” as she shoved the water in your face like she pushed the glass of water to your chest making the water spill onto your lap as you screech teleporting with a spazz.

You were teleporting left and right as vaggie then noticed your lap bubbling as you screeched with an unhinged jaw. Vaggie cover her shocked with her hand as you teleported away at least.

Vaggie then goes to Charlie as she tells her girlfriend what happened with you and how you let out a piercing screech that broke her heart.

She left terrible to harming you, but Charlie comforted her and was saying how she can fix this

Charlie takes vaggie to the kitchen as sir Pentious was there making something for the egg boiz who are hungry. She tells Vaggie, “how about making some cookies? I remember seeing them happy at some cookies.” And Vaggie nodded a bit

Few minutes later, vaggie had grabbed the cookies with a smile face on it. The smile faces were kinda ugly but they had effort as she walks to your room and knock on it. You open the door having your blindfold on as you stare intensely at her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know that water could harm you like that…I was being a pushy bitch wasn’t I?” She says awkwardly as you stand over her. It was a weird silence until she heard a deep chuckle

You laughed with a croak and nodded, taking the cookie. And everything went well after that

LUCIFER

For Lucifer, I feel like he would try to get you inside his duck boat because he just appreciates it as much as he appreciates you.

It all started one day when you were in the workshop with Lucifer as was making a captain and sailor boy duck when he remembered the duck boat you built for him.

“ENDY!” You jolted looking at your hyperactive friend as you stopped working on a box. Lucifer’s smile shows off his teeth as he had a pose that says “I HAVE AN IDEA!🤓☝🏾” Lucifer grabbed you by your broad shoulders and got close to your face.

“We should do a boat ride..like, like AN AMAZING ONE!” Lucifer was excited to hang out with you since you are his first friend that’s similar. You looks side to side as if you were in a cartoon and nodded for Lucifer to continue. He told you how cute and fun it would be to be in a boat ride with you as he just wants to hang out.

So imagine Lucifer picking up a 6’5 tall person who has a neutral face while the other has a gremlin happy face. He literally had a sailor hat on with a fit excited as he gets in the boat that’s ready to be sailed in the water. He waits for you as you just stand there shaking your head no.

“No.” You said flatly as Lucifer just sits there like. “What….” Lucifer was shocked as he raised a brow confused

It’s so cartoony as Lucifer is trying to drag you in the boat while you screech with an angry face “>:(“ LOL A SHORT ASS MAN AND A TALLER ONE FIGHTING😭🦆

Although Lucifer is stronger than you since you are quite just a creature and he is the king of hell. He pulls you but too hard as you fell in the water screeching in pain as your mouth unhinged. You literally start tweaking as you twitch before teleporting out the water and shaking.

Lucifer’s eyes widen as he immediately runs to see your body bubbling as you grip the ground in pain as you screech in pain still. Lucifer actually gets concerned as he uses his hand that has fire in it to warm you quickly as you are in pain.

After you dried off…it was an awkward moment as Lucifer had a sorry look, like a puppy that had just been kicked as he looks down ashamed at how you got hurt because of him. You looked at him through your blind fold and wrap your arm around his smaller figure close to yours.

His eyes widen as he feels your slight cold body as he still looks down. “I’m sorry for hurting you…”

“I’m okay..thanks to you.” You said as you teleported both of you and Lucifer back to the hotel so you can heal.

ALASTOR

You were walking with Alastor for a stroll when a sinner had poured out water from their window.

Alastor had asked you to do a stroll with him as you were working all day fixing things around the building. You didn’t want to at first but Alastor assured you he wanted you to be by him as he literally grabbed you by your lanky yet muscular arm and dragged you along the streets of pentagram city.

“Tell me my fellow specimen, do you like jazz?” He says as he smiles at you waiting for your answer. You thought about it as you remembered a person named “Steve” playing jazz once….it was quite catchy. So you nodded as Alastor nods with a hum.

As you guys walk a sinner had seen you by the radio demon and wanted to be a asshat as they grabbed some water and aimed steady seeing you and Alastor close to the window.

With the sinner having the balls to pour water, they poured it on you. Missing Alastor completely as he jolts shocked to see you covered in water. Immediately when the water hit your skin, you screech loudly gaining attention as a static ring in the sinner’s ears as your eyes glow purple.

You teleport and start to take blocks and piece of the house angrily as you were in pain. But the pain was so much in your skin you passed out before you could harm the sinner.

Alastor’s shadow catches your body with a frown as it takes you to the hotel while Alastor had worry in his eyes with his smile still there.

Alastor looks up at the sinner’s window with radio dials for eyes as the sinner cowardly hid from the sight of the radio demon but Alastor smiles sinisterly and walked ahead.

Alastor had hoped you were in your room regaining your strength.

It was the next day as you woke up feeling better as purple pixels surround your body as you see Alastor in your room watch tv. You sigh grabbing your working clothes ready to iron them and go in with your day.

You just stood there as the person’s house was on fire and on the news next day while you were ironing your clothes. Literally your face was like “:0” as Alastor sips his tea with a evil smile.

ANGEL DUST

I feel like for Angel, he would bring you to a club because you told him you never been to a club before. And some asshole poured water on you thinking you are ignoring them because they liked you.

You were walking to your room as your hair was disheveled from working as you were tired, accidentally bumping into angel who was on his phone. “Hey watch where you’re goin'…” you grumbled at him as you kept walking only for angel to grab your wrist concerned as you would usually screech when he pissed you off or even annoy you.

“Hey…somethin wrong buddy?” Angel says as you turn to face him. He sees your tired form and he puts his hand on your cheek. No fever. “Hmmm…” angel hums as you stand there not wanting to deal with his bullshit as you almost teleported away.

“Wait. How about you hang out with me? Maybe you could see what’s fun other than slavin' away and being tired all day babe.” You thought about it but then nod as you followed after the spider demon who smiles grabbing your hand.

As you guys go to a club Angel is dancing has he has a shot in his hand while you just stand there awkwardly staring at your formal friend who seemed to be having the time of his life. Angel sees you not dancing and pouts grabbing your hands and making you have a dance with him as you have your hands on his waist as you let out a soft croak confused

Angel and you had fun as you smiled for once and Angel smiled seeing you happy. You guys were thirsty so Angel had asked if you wanted anything. You paused and said probably [anything but water] and Angel nodded and left.

As Angel left, you start to think about how you didn’t feel icky and less motivated tonight as you had fun with Angel dust. It felt like you needed this. You need fun. And this is the best night of your life.

A female sinner had been staring at you from afar, liking your dark handsome body as she licks her lips and goes over to you. “Heyyy~” the demon says as she tries to look seductive to you. You didn’t even hear the lady as you couldn’t even hear shit from the blasting music.

The demon lady got mad a few seconds later, not hearing you say anything back and assuming you are just being a rude person not wanting to be talked to.

“JERK!” The female demon throws the water in your making you back away as it splashes you on your face. You screech gaining Angel’s attention as he sees the female sinner snickering walking away as he runs to you concerned seeing your face bubbling.

Angel panicked either comforting the damn bitch, or comforting you. He sucked in his breath and ran after the bitch who poured water on you…..

You can imagine how the fight went as the next thing that happened was Angel grumbling helping you stand up as he enters the club again. “Up you go bud…” Angel says as he walks limping a bit by your body mass against his.

You guys get back home safely as angel patches up your face a bit and lays you on your bed as you groan. Purple pixels surround your body as a static sound softly vibrates around the room. Angel sighs tired realizing how much he partied with you.

Later that night, Angel was beside your sleeping body as it heals with purple pixels surrounding your face. Angel sighs with slight concern as he snuggles against your body. Using your arm as his pillow.

HUSK

Kinda like Angel’s, a person spilled water on you because they a hater fr and they can’t help but be jealous 🤓🦆.

So what I have in mind is that there are residents in the hotel after the battle with the Angels, and like so you being the handyman you are. You were trying to fix the shower for a resident who had a drug problem.

Like you were just sitting at the bar when you get a notification from room 102 that there is an error with the shower head. You said bye to husk as he nodded staring at you with dilated eyes before his eyes went back to slits as he cleans glasses.

As you rolled up your sleeves ready to get down and dirty for your job, you had an uneasy feelings seeing how you heard pacing steps back and forth. You knocked on the door for it to only open to see a sinner who seems to be slightly uncomfortable.

They let you in as their head twitched a bit as you just stand there with a broken English sound, “hello.” You walked into the bathroom and started to see the shower head. It looked a bit sideways as you walked around the bathroom.

The sinner gets more nervous as you sit your tool box on the sink. Almost by their medicine bottle which made them tweak out at you.

The drug addict started to yell at you, accusing of you spying on them as they grip their hair and push you out of their bathroom. They even threw the pill bottle at you as you were just shocked seeing them spazz out at you like a bipolar disorder.

Husk must’ve heard some sounds of the yelling and you letting a Enderman sound as the cat demon grumble going up stairs concerned got you.

The next thing husk sees, was you getting thrown with water as his eyes widen with yours as you screech out loud holding your bubbling arm you used to cover your face.

Husk immediately rushed to you as he tries to dry it off only for you to let out soft groans in pain. Husk turns to the sinner angrily as a slight cat growl erupts from his throat seeing you hurt.

“Get the fuck out of here before I shove my foot up your ass…” Husk says as it seemed like he wasn’t joking as he pulled out his cards and gripped his fists.

The sinner jolted as they ran off with a scoff glaring at you and leaving the hotel for good.

After the sinner left for good, husk grabs an aid kit that’s in every room of the hotel and wraps your arm as you sigh confused by what you could’ve done to the person…..“Am I ugly?” You asked husk who scoffed

“You’re anything but that pal…cmon get up. You still got a place to chill at.” Husk says helping you up as you both go to the bar to chill.

PENTIOUS

He was trying to show you a weapon he that had water in it…

Like one day you were fixing a clock because you wanted to know the time, but Pentious wanted your attention as he grabbed your waist and took you to his room to show you his new weapon he was gushing over about.

You didn’t understand what was happening as you let out a slight croak with your face being like “😐”

As you got dragged to his room his egg boiz surrounded you liking your tall frame as Frank climbed to your head. You patted the pure egg as sir Pentious slithers through his room and runs through it to find the weapon.

Pentious explained how the egg boiz wanted a bigger water gun, so he gave them one. You could tell he was confused between real gun and a toy water gun as you stood there and nodded with a thumbs up.

He pulled out the gun which seemed to be some type of ray gun, but in a colorful summer way as you just tap it not knowing what else to think of it as frank hops off your back.

“Issssn’t it pretty?” Pentious says happily as he spins the ray around. “With my brains I didn’t think of anything else bu-”

Before he could even say anything else, he knocked into the button that activates the ray having the water hit you in the middle of your chest as your eyes widen at the burning sensation.

“SCREEEECHHH” you let out a painful scream as Pentious’s eyes widen with his egg boiz as they surround you worried about you.

Pentious sees you holding your chest as he unbuttoned your shirt to see a painful bubbling spot of where the water weapon had hit you.

He gasped as he immediately got up and yelled for Charlie to come help you as the egg boiz kept you company

Tbh I can imagine a funny moment after this of Enderman! Reader sitting up still having a blank face having wrapping around their chest as pentious sniffles with teary puppy eyes.

“It’s okay…..” you said in a quiet broke English voice as it was raspy as well. You patted his head as your chest had the wrapping bandage on it. Sir Pentious wraps his tail around your waist as he snuggles up to you

NIFFTY

She was dust cleaning and accidentally knocked a cup of water on you. Like you were basically relaxing after a hard day of working.

You was by the bar and so was she dusting away with her wide smile. She said hi to you as you nodded acknowledging her presence as you just sat relaxing.

As you sat there, she accidentally knocked over a glass of water or so and it splashed all over your hand which made you jolt with a screeech. Husk looks over to see you hissing at the burn your skin got as she get an aid kit for you. This made husk not phased a little as nifty moves away from you ashamed that she harmed you.

After husk had fixed your hand a bit, you had to go to your room to recover as it is was build by you to help you heal better. It is filled with some blocks where you are from so you could heal better.

As you stayed in your room, nifty sniffled sad that you left to your room thinking you were mad at her

She went to Charlie or Alastor and asked for advice as she didn’t know what to do next as she couldn’t just walk in on you trying to heal.

So she went to both and they both gave her a different response, “Maybe you should apologize and give them a get better card?” “Hmm…I’m not good at these kinda things.”

So nifty got to work as you slept off the pain in your hand as you didn’t know what was happening down stairs.

At the end of the day, nifty made you a get better card as you picked it up with your bandaged hand with a soft gaze of your purple eyes. You let out a soft Enderman croak as you pinned it to your wall

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 7, Ch. 2

PART 7: THE YEAR OF HIDING AND PASSION Chapter 2 - Helping Hagrid

Warnings: SMUT in the broom closet!

Charlie

I think it was easy to say that between being in my last year at Hogwarts, going to Romania 2-3 times per week working with Dragons, and being in a relationship with the girl I liked since Third Year, this is the happiest year of my life. I imagined and daydreamed about how it would be if Nova returned my feelings but I didn't even dare to think it would be as good as we have it. She is so amazing and beautiful and I love her so much! We both marked the Summer at the Burrow a success even though Ginny and Bill know about us. I know Ginny is too excited for Nova to join the family to say anything and Bill was going to find out sooner or later anyway. I can't deny I'm glad he knows because I can go for him for advice now. He taught me the Protection spell and Merlin's beard is that being handy and I know if I didn't talk to him about our first time, I would be way more nervous than I was. It was so beautiful and Nova loved it. I wanted to do something romantic so she could feel as relaxed as she possibly could and to be honest I needed that too. I remember how careful I was with her as if she was the most fragile thing. I really wanted to do it as right for the first time as one can and I didn't want to hurt her but make her feel as comfortable as I could.

It was as beautiful as it was awkward which we expected and we weren't bothered by it. We did it two more times that night, fireflies around us, and we began to feel better about it. We were curious and we both felt something between us that we couldn't wait to explore. Nova was pretty shy when it came to sex at the beginning and I found it adorable. We talked about it one night, gazing at the stars and she said that it helps her gain confidence if we talk it through. So we like to discuss what each of us likes and how it feels and she's getting there and so am I. I fancied her for such a long time that I still stare at her sometimes and I can't believe how amazing she is and that I am lucky enough to call her mine. I am so in love with her that sometimes I can't believe I am capable of all these feelings. One of the last nights at the Burrow, Nova surprised me with a midnight picnic. She was very suspicious the whole day and there was something in the way she was looking at me that just turned me on so much. She started to take off my shirt and pushed me to the ground and I couldn't get over her confidence, it was so sexy. I didn't do much that night as she locked me to the ground by her being on top and to say that I didn't remember my name afterward, was an understatement. Charlie, who?

—

When our Seventh Year started, we knew we would have to make a plan because our friends still didn't know about us and we wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. The twins kept disappearing Merlin knows where and I knew that if I let them pass through my fingers they might just keep our secret if we tell them or they see us. Percy was so into his books that he probably wouldn't notice anyway so we really wanted to just be cautious around our friends. We usually sneaked into the Forest. We did try the Room of Requirement a few times but it became boring as we ran out of ideas how to change the room and there was something about doing it in the Forest, knowing it's a bit dangerous, that doing it in bed couldn't compare to the feelings in there.

A few months into the school year, Nova was a completely different person. She was still shy around me and I could feel how much she loved me but her confidence when it comes to sex grew from not looking me in the eyes during the act to rubbing my thigh and going a bit too close with her hand while biting her lip and winking at me during class. To be honest, I didn't know how we were going to pass this year. Almost everything we did, even a simple look, turned us on and it was all we could think about. We just couldn't help ourselves. It has been too many years of tension. Too many years of hidden feelings. Too many years of denying them for the sake of our friendship and now we can finally let go. We're at the age where we're supposed to be adults and act responsible but the energy and passion we feel when we're embraced, all hot and sweaty is the best piece of magic I have ever encountered. We finally understood Jae and Tulip that they couldn't take their hands off each other last year, we were acting the same now.

—

One morning I came down to the Great Hall and Nova was sitting with Tonks at the Ravenclaw Table. “Good morning.” I sang and looked around to see if there were any familiar faces before smooching my girlfriend. I still get goosebumps saying she's my girlfriend. I'm the luckiest fucking bloke on the planet! I was so happy that Tonks knew about us. She was so understanding and never asked questions and she even covered for us a couple of times when Penny almost busted us. Sometimes we were so caught in the moment that we forgot we were supposed to be sneaking around.

I didn't tell Jae yet even though I knew he wouldn't make a big deal out of it and wouldn't tell Tulip as I hid their relationship from Nova last year. Still, it never came up in the conversation so I decided to stay quiet. Nova thought Tulip knew about us as there were days when she came to her dorm pretty late but then she said that Tulip tried to persuade her to share her feelings with me and she knew she didn't have a clue. If she only knew about the feelings we shared.

Penny was Nova's biggest concern. I knew it was tearing her apart because she wanted to tell her best friend. I told her that she can if she wants to but she was still not ready and felt uncomfortable answering the questions she knew Penny was going to ask her.

“Wotcher, Charlie. How did you sleep?” Tonks yawned. She looked tired most of the days since the beginning of the school year. “Great.” I grinned and looked at Nova, who was looking at me, her eyes all dreamy. I felt my cheeks turn pink. “You okay, Tonks?” “Never better!” She leaned on Nova's shoulder and pretended to snore. Nova chuckled and my stomach turned. She still gave me butterflies.

“What are you two love birds doing today?” Tonks asked. It was so nice that we didn't have to hide from her. “Each other.” Nova said casually, winked at me, and almost made me spit out my orange juice. “That reminds me...” Tonks lifted her head. “Have you ever done it in a broom closet?” I liked how casual we were about sex. We both shook our heads but by Nova's look, I already knew she was up for it. “Second Floor to the left. Looks like an abandoned room.” Tonks began to explain. “Not that much space but it's nice and tight if you know what I mean.” I chuckled. Never saw her and Barnaby having the type of relationship that they had but I was happy it was working out for them. She was still telling Nova about it but I completely zoned out when Nova started brushing her leg against mine under the table. She was so sexy when she was turned on and the more details about the broom closet she got from Tonks the bigger her naughty grin got. A letter broke our eye contact and I wasn't even mad about it. It was beginning to get too hot for such a public place. It took a lot of power to look away from Nova and open the letter Pip brought me but someone had to be strong in this relationship, even though I knew we are going to be in that closet, our bodies pressed against one another and enjoying the moment in about 10 minutes.

“It's from Hagrid, Nova. He wants us to help him with something in the Forest.” I finally focused as I pulled my legs closer to my side so she couldn't reach me. I didn't want to but she was frying my brain. “Is that your new code for doing it in the woods?” Tonks winked at me. Nova chuckled. “No!” I smirked. “I'm serious.” I gave Nova the letter. “What'd you reckon it's about?” She asked, excited. I was the one that was going into the Forest with Hagrid a lot, while Nova usually had other things to do, and sometimes she was a bit jealous that she couldn't join us but this time Hagrid asked for both of us. “The last time he said something about some animal disappearances but he didn't want to give me any details.” I answered. “It looked like he was hiding something and couldn't trust me with it.” “Then it definitely has to do with that.” I nodded to her response.

Usually, when Hagrid did something that he wasn't supposed to tell me about, he always let something slip before realizing he is talking to a student and then I always received a letter a week later to help him with whatever he got in trouble with anyway. I like Hagrid a lot and I am very appreciative that he took the time to write me a recommendation letter for my job and I would help him with anything he needs to return the favor. Tonks now looked as if she was snoozing on Nova's shoulder and I was beginning to be a bit worried about her. “Tonks, how come you're so tired all the time?” I asked gently as I didn't know if she actually fell asleep. “Fucking Barnaby!” She lifted her head and buried her face in her hands. “Are we talking about the act or the person?” Nova laughed at my question. “Yes.” She looked at me and nodded. “I barely get any sleep, we have been at it all night for three days now.” She yawned again but by the look on her face, she didn't seem that bothered. “Why don't you guys take a break?” I smirked. “Can you take a break from YOUR girlfriend?” She winked at me. I looked at Nova who was biting her lip again. I could never take a break from her. “I get your point.” I laughed. “Wait, what do you mean your are you and Barnaby a couple?” I was so deep in my fantasy again that I needed a moment to figure out what Nova was asking her. “Might as well be.” Tonks shrugged her shoulders. “We didn't talk about it but neither of us is seeing anyone else and seeing you lot act the same with the exception of holding hands when no one's looking, what's really the difference?” She did make sense.

“Well, do you want to be in a relationship?” Nova asked her. “I dunno.” She answered honestly. “I thought I didn't want to be because I am not a lovey-dovey person like Penny and Tulip is too hardcore for me.” We all laughed. It was interesting how different all of our relationships were.

“But hearing you lot having so much sex and you call yourself a couple I am giving it a second thought.” It was true, Nova and I were quite active and I never imagined us to be when we started due to how shy we both were but we both enjoy it so much and it's so magical every time that I don't see the problem.

“Tonks, being in a relationship doesn't mean you can't have sex.” I chuckled. “Some are more gentle and romantic and others are more passionate.” I was lucky to have both with Nova. I enjoyed cuddling with her as much as I enjoyed being inside of her. Once per week, we had a date in the Room of Requirement and we always made it so romantic that it was almost cheesy. We usually ended up sitting in front of the fire, talking and cuddling.

“I see your point, Dragon boy.” She got up. “Where are you going?” Nova asked her. “First of all, the energy between you two,” she pointed her finger at both of us, “makes me not want to be a third wheel right now and second of all I need to get some sleep or that Slytherin will be the death of me.” She rolled her eyes but I knew she liked it. Nova chuckled and Tonks left the Hall. “So we go down to Hagrid's now or do we have some time?” Nova asked and I knew what was on her mind.

“Don't we have class?” I chuckled. She just shrugged her shoulders. What a loyal Ravenclaw she was. “He said in the afternoon so I think we have some time.” I winked at her and got up.

I know we have N.E.W.T.s this year and I would be more concerned about skipping class if I didn't already have a job secured. I was here so I wouldn't listen to my mum for the rest of my life how I didn't finish my education and that I could spend more time with Nova.

She snatched my hand and dragged me out of the Hall. I pressed her by the wall at the entrance. She looked at her watch. We were already breathing heavily. I couldn't wait for our bodies to become one. “We have half an hour until our Defense Against the Dark Arts, you reckon you can be so quick?” She leaned her head to me and bit my lip. “I'll do my best.” I whispered in her ear. “Do you want to give the broom closet a try?” Without answering she was already dragging me down the corridor. We reached the door Tonks described. We knocked just in case and tried the doorknob. It was locked. “Alohamora.” Nova whispered and the door creaked open. We looked around. It was small but it would do. It had shelves on every wall, dusty abandoned objects on them.

“So against which wall do you want to be pounded at?” I wrapped my hands around her from behind and bit the tip of her ear. “How about the middle one?” She turned around and pushed me into the shelf. She poked me in my chest and dragged her finger slowly across my body until she reached my pants.

That naughty smile was making my blood pump faster. She opened my pants, kneeled, and pulled them down. Her eyes glowed when she pulled down my boxers and started sucking. My eyes rolled back and my knees got weak. She was too good at doing that and her moaning in between didn't help my cause. I made her stop and helped her get up. I pressed her against the shelf on the right. “Mind pulling yourself up a bit, love.” I said between my heavy breaths. She looked up and grabbed two shelves above her head. It was my turn on the knees. My head disappeared under her skirt. I don't know how I feel about knowing the real reason why Tulip wears skirts so much but they were practical, I'll give her that.

I ran my finger across her underwear and she trembled. I knew I was torturing her at this point. I gently moved her panties away and when my tongue touched her she moaned. I loved making her feel good and feeling her twist from pleasure was a special kind of satisfaction and besides, I liked being between her legs. She suddenly pulled my hair and made me look up at her. “Fuck me.” She said between her breaths. We were far from 'making love' at this point even though we did have moments when we liked it nice and slow. This was not one of those times. I got to her eye level and she stuck her tongue down my throat. Did I mention how good of a kisser she was? I was keeping her steady by the waist with one hand and moved her underwear to the side so I could enter her. “Wait, my wand.” She breathed. I was halfway inside her. “That would be me, love.” I whispered and we both chuckled. “No silly! The Protection spell!” We used it every time even though I am not going to lie we almost forgot a few times. Usually, I was the one who remembered to cast the spell but thank Merlin Nova's brain was still functioning that she remembered this time because my mind was already gone. “Muffliato.” She whispered another spell. Tulip told her about this one when she told her stories about her and Jae. I don't know where she learned it from but it worked wonders. Nova wasn't exactly the quiet type when it came to sex and the spell came in very handy.

I entered her and she moaned. Our bodies moved together as one in a tight and sweaty embrace. If I wasn't the luckiest bloke in the entire school for having the most amazing girl return my feelings, then I don't know who was.

—

“Damn it, we're half an hour late.” Nova looked at her pocket watch as we were getting dressed. “You promised you would be quick.” She smirked at me. “A minute ago you didn't seem to mind me lasting so long.” I winked at her and she bestowed me with an amused look. I was pretty proud of myself for it and I knew she didn't want it to end by the sounds she was making. “Should we just go down to Hagrid's?” “You're serious about skipping class?” She said shocked. She was a Ravenclaw after all. “We can tell Rakepick Hagrid needed us. I am sure he is going to vouch for us.” I pulled my jumper over my head. “I guess.” She gave it a second thought. “If we show up to the lesson right now everyone will know we were doing it anyway.” She chuckled and pointed at her hair which was everywhere but in place. “I love you so much, Nova Blackwood.” I kissed her gently and could see her cheeks turn red saying those words. “I love you too, Charles Weasley.” She pulled me into a hug and I loved how we could switch from what we were just doing to being attentive and gentle with each other within seconds.

We carefully slipped out of the broom closet, happy nobody saw us and ran down to Hagrid's to see what he needs help with.

Nova

“Comin'!” We knocked on Hagrid's door and we could hear him stand up.

“Nova, Charlie! What are yeh doin' 'ere?” He opened the door, surprised.

“You wrote us a letter to see you.” Charlie said.

“In the afternoon.” Hagrid moved away from the door and invited us inside.

“It sounded urgent, so we came straight away.” His letter was pretty casual but we needed an excuse not to go to class.

“Yeh know meh too well. It is an emergency.” He sat down and sighed. “But yeh missin' yeh lessons!” He stood back up. I could tell he was nervous.

“You can write us a note.” Charlie said quickly. “Your thing is obviously more important.” Smooth, Weasley. Very smooth.

“Yeh right.” Hagrid sat back down. “I don't know wha' to do.” He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Hagrid, what happened?” I sat down next to him and placed my hand on his back.

“It's Fang. We were in the Forest this mornin' and we got a bit lost, yeh see, and there was this sound and when I turned around 'e was gone.” Hagrid burst into tears.

“Hagrid, that IS an emergency!” Charlie stood up at once.

“I know!” He sobbed. “I didn' want to worry yeh in case yeh couldn' make it but I could use yeh 'elp searchin'. I dunno who else to ask.” He buried his head into my shoulder. I looked at Charlie, worry in his eyes.

“Take us to where you last saw him, Hagrid.” Charlie said with a determined voice. We helped Hagrid stand up and he took us outside.

I was really happy that we were the first people to come to mind to help him save Fang. But then again, we were probably the only ones mad enough to go so deep into the Forest. We have sneaked in more times than I would like to admit and I knew that Charlie has been at least twice as the number of times I was but by the look on his face, he hasn't been so deep either.

“Hagrid,” I couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy, “are we still on the right path?”

“Just a bit further.” He was still sobbing but tried hard to focus.

We have been walking for what seemed like an hour more. Charlie and I exchanged looks here and there and I could see he would rather be yelled at by Rakepick for being late to class than be so deep in the Forest. He was about to open his mouth and say something when Hagrid stopped.

“'ere.” He said and burst into tears. I looked around, there was nothing that would indicate that something could've taken Fang. I gestured to Charlie to look around. I stepped to Hagrid and tried to calm him down as much as possible. I have no idea what creatures lurk so deep in the Forest and Hagrid didn't exactly try hard to be quiet.

“Nova, I think I found something.” Hagrid and I ran in the direction of Charlie's voice and stopped in front of a hole next to a tree.

“It looks like a tunnel.” I whispered and got closer to it.

“Hagrid, do you think Fang could fall inside?” Charlie asked him.

“I dunno. Perhaps.” Hagrid's voice became a bit more hopeful.

“Then we have to go in.” I sat down on the edge of the opening, ready to jump down.

“What are you doing?” Charlie grabbed my shoulder, preventing me to go.

“I'm going in, what does it look like?” I frowned.

“You're not going first!” He offered me a hand to pull me up.

“And why is that?” I slapped his hand away.

“We don't know what's in there.” He hissed at me.

“I don't see your point, Weasley.” I turned around and was ready to jump in.

“No!” Charlie grabbed me under the armpits and pulled me up.

“Merlin's beard, what is up with you!” I moved around so he would let me go.

“It can be dangerous. You're not going first!” He stepped in front of the hole, preventing me to get any closer. There was something in his eyes that I have never seen before. He seemed afraid. Not for himself but for me.

“Char...” I said softly. We have been together for almost half a year now and he showed me every day how much I mean to him but it just hit me that there wasn't a thing in the world he wouldn't do for me and it scared me.

I didn't want him to go first just so that I could stay safe. I didn't want him to risk his life for me, not now not ever. And I most definitely didn't want to see that look in his eyes ever again, the look that said that he was terrified of losing me.

“We are not doing this here.” I tried sounding harsh, even though I had to fight every muscle in my body to not pull him into a hug. Hagrid was still too busy crying to pay attention to our fight. I pushed him aside instead and jumped into the hole. I could hear him shouting my name when I hit the ground. It was pitch black and the smell was foul.

“Lumos.” I looked around. It looked like a passage.

“It's a tunnel!” I shouted up to the surface. A few seconds later, Charlie landed on his feet right next to me. I knew Hagrid would have to stay behind because he was too big to fit the hole.

“What was that?” He snapped at me. I haven't seen him this angry in a long time.

“Charlie, I know I'm your girlfriend, but you can't tell me what to do!” I barked at him.

“The hell I can't!” I gasped at his response.

“Excuse me?” I wanted to hex him on the spot.

“I just started my life with you, I am not losing you!” He shouted in my face.

“It's just a hole, Charles! Stop making such a big deal out of it!” I yelled back.

“And what if you got hurt?” Our noses were touching now.

“And what if I did?” I stood up on my toes.

“Nova,” his voice went from high to gentle, “I can't bear to lose you. You don't understand what being with you means to me.” He placed a hand on my cheek.

“I know, Char.” I covered his hand with mine and I lowered my voice too. “But you can't protect me from every little danger that comes my way.” I kissed him gently.

“How do you think I feel every week when you go to Romania and I know you might come back with a scar or two. I know how dangerous Dragons are and I am not shouting at you every time you go.” I support him 100% when it comes to his job even though I'm a nervous wreck every time he goes.

He already has a scar on his chest, his left leg, and a rather big one on his right shoulder. And every time he comes back and I see he's okay I feel relieved but I never tell him how worried I am because of the grin he has on his face when he tells me all about it. I know he doesn't worry about getting hurt and I know he's quite proud of his scars.

“We both knew what we were getting into when we started dating. You working with Dragons and you know my list of animals I want to study.” I continued after his silence. His lips curved. He knew there was nothing safe about the creatures I wanted to work with.

“I'm sorry. I got a bit carried away.” He pressed his lips to mine. It was one of those stronger kisses, the ones that made me tremble and reminded me how good we have it.

“A bit?” I poked him in his chest. He laughed.

He leaned in for another kiss when we heard a sound. Our eyes locked.

“Fang!” We exclaimed at the same time and without even thinking about it, started running through the passage. We started to speed up when we saw a dim light. The stench was getting worse and when we both stopped, we understood why the smell was so bad.

We reached a room, lit by candles. There were blood pools everywhere on the ground and a pile of bones in one corner. I heard Fang cry. Charlie and I both looked in the direction of the sound and saw him laying on the floor.

“He's hurt.” Charlie said as he kneeled next to him.

“Can you pick him up?” I took a step closer to them, my wand ready. “I don't want to be here when the thing that got Fang comes back.”

Charlie carefully picked him up. He was howling from pain but we knew that we had to take him out of there. We were almost at the entrance to the tunnel when I heard something behind us.

“Is that...” Charlie's voice shook. I narrowed my eyes to see better.

“Red...” I whispered.

“Cap!” Charlie finished my sentence. “Nova, RUN!” He started sprinting through the tunnel and I followed him.

I could hear the sounds the creature was making but I tried to forget about them. My heart was beating so fast. I knew what Red Cap's were and I knew that no matter what spell I would throw at it, it would probably dodge it. They were really dangerous and could only really be stopped with a Beautification potion. Something, we did not have.

We got to the spot where we dropped down into the hole and Charlie started shouting for Hagrid to help us. The Cap was still after us but I knew that if we hurried we could get out of here, safe and sound. Charlie gave Fang to Hagrid.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” I shouted to give Charlie a boost. He grabbed Hagrid's hand and pulled himself up. I heard the creature getting closer and just when Charlie grabbed my hand, I felt excruciating pain on my calf. I lifted my other leg to pull myself up to the best of my abilities while pressing my lips together not to scream from pain.

I looked back down and saw the creature crawling after me. “Reducto!” I knocked it to the ground and Charlie pulled me up.

“Nova! Are you alright?” Charlie put his hand on my shoulders and started observing me.

“My leg.” I mumbled and showed on my muscle.

“Hagrid, we have to go!” Charlie lifted me in his arms and him and Hagrid started running. I could hear Charlie saying something to Hagrid but I couldn't really pay attention. My vision got blurry and I could hear nothing but ringing in my ears.

—

I felt like opening my eyes but it seemed my eyelids were too heavy. I heard someone move closer to me and I winced.

“Nova.” I heard Charlie's gentle voice say my name and I felt his hand on mine. “Madam Pomfrey! She's awake!” I heard him say and I opened my eyes to the best of my ability.

Charlie was standing up, a chair behind him. He had dark circles under his eyes and a look of worry. Madam Pomfrey opened the curtain that was separating my bed from the rest of the Hospital Wing.

“Let me see you, dear.” She came closer and gave me a glass of yellowish liquid. “Drink it. It will make you feel better.” I took the glass and tried getting up. My whole body was in pain. Charlie put two pillows behind my back so I could properly sit.

“What in the bloody hell happened?” I whispered. I couldn't recall the event that brought me the pain I was feeling.

“You were poisoned, Miss Blackwood. Went straight into your blood.” Madam Pomfrey explained and disappeared behind the curtain again.

“She said that your wound is almost healed. You just have to get your strength back.” Charlie said softly and kissed my forehead.

“Red Cap!” Memories finally came back to me.

“He got your leg pretty messed up. Wasn't pretty to look at.” Charlie tried to smile even though I could see the concern painting his face.

“Is Fang okay?” I asked hastily.

“He's going to be fine.” Charlie smiled. He knew I cared more about animals than myself. “A few broken ribs, bit off tail, and a broken paw.”

“I got off easy then.” I chuckled but then winced as my whole body ached.

“You scared me so much, I didn't know what happened to you.” Charlie tried hard to keep a steady voice. “You just mumbled something about your leg and fainted.” He shook his head trying to get the memory out of his mind.

“Charlie, I'm alright.” I placed my hand on his cheek and his lips curved when I touched his skin. “It's just a scratch.”

“Don't get me mad, love.” He frowned but didn't say anything else. With the number of scars he already had from Romania, he knew he wasn't the one to talk. He then told me that he has been with me every day all day and that Penny brought him notes from classes so he could copy them.

All of our friends came to see me, including Fred, George, and Percy who accidentally mentioned in one of his letters to Molly that I was hurt and Charlie had to write her 3 letters to calm her down plus write to my mum because, of course, Molly wrote to her at once. Fred and George even smugged Pip in the Hospital Wing so he could see me and they got a week's worth of detention because Madam Pomfrey caught them.

After a week of me being awake, it was finally time for me to get released from the Hospital. I knew that the first thing I had to do was see Hagrid. Charlie told me he felt so bad seeing me unconscious that he couldn't even bring himself to come to see me again.

“All he does is just sob all day long no matter how much I tell him that you are okay.” Said Charlie as we were leaving the Wing.

“So basically, he's you.” I smirked at him.

“Not funny, Nova. You have no idea how worried I was for you.” His voice broke. I stopped him and pulled him into a hug.

“I'm fine.” I whispered.

“I know but if anything worse had happened...” His whole body shook.

“Char, look at me...” I cupped his face and it pained me when I saw he had tears in his eyes. “I just got hurt, I'm alright. Please stop worrying.” I pulled him back into a hug.

We walked down to Hagrid's in silence. He was holding my hand so tightly that I couldn't feel my fingers but I didn't care. I knew this was something he had to do to feel better and I didn't blame him. I wanted to tell him that what he was feeling while I was unconscious I was feeling every time he was in Romania, but I knew that if I did, he would never go again.

After an hour of Hagrid sobbing and me telling them both that I am fine and not as fragile as they think, they both relaxed and Hagrid finally forgave himself. We stayed for dinner at Hagrid's and I could see Charlie letting go of what happened and grasping the fact that I was completely healed. It was sweet that he was so concerned but at the same time, I couldn't help but worry about what will happen to us when our school year is over.

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

To Be Continued - Part 8

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

The angst has made it’s way into the station, everyone. Buckle up for the pain that’s going to come.

A/N: this story idea was created from receiving two prompts for Brian in the YouxIdol drabble game I was completing this year. In this part, you can find prompt #194, “I don’t want to live in a world where I’m not with you.”

Word count: 2397

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

You were anxious whilst waiting for Lily’s arrival. At first, she laughed hysterically after your announcement. However, she stopped suddenly, peering at Brian, who waved gently in response. You worried she might collapse from the reactions that seemed to rock her back and forth when in a calm voice, she told you she was on her way over and then ended the call.

You had been pacing in the hallway in front of your door ever since.

“It’s going to be fine,” Brian assured, and you nodded distantly.

“Fine. Yes. Of course.”

“I mean, I convinced you of my existence. It won’t be much for me to do the same to Lily.”

“Except part of that was you came out of the laptop in front of me.” Glancing up at him, you shoved Brian down the hallway to your office and over to the laptop. “Do it again.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a circus monkey.”

“No, but you did come in and out of the story multiple times,” you reminded, and Brian folded his arms across his chest.

“Only because you called me out.”

“So go back in and I’ll call you out when she’s here.”

Brian snorted. “And send your editor into a mess or make her faint as you did?!”

“Well, that way she won’t be able to say we’re making this up!”

“Except we’re not making this up and we’ll get through it without any stunts, okay?” he told you, rubbing your shoulders and attempting to loosen the tension within them. You slumped, hoping Brian was right.

There was a frantic knock at the door then, and Brian nodded gently before going to answer it. Peering around the corner of your living area, you watched as he greeted Lily. The woman stepped inside, circled around him and then shook her head. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“I know it seems a little implausible but-”

“Brian Kang truly exists,” Lily cut off your attempt to start the conversation, and you shared a surprised glance with Brian before stepping closer to your friend. She stared up at Brian. “Any chance Park Jinyoung exists too?”

“I’ve tried,” you mentioned in a small voice when Brian’s face grew moody and let out a little laugh. “I think we’re best off just having one literary character in our existence, right?”

You were surprised by how easily Lily accepted all this. Of course, Brian gave her a similar speech as he had to you when you came around after meeting him the first time, and answered any of her questions. But unlike you, Lily didn’t have many. Instead, she marvelled his existence up close – and rather a little too personally – before you cleared your throat and gestured for some tea.

Taking your editor into your office and shutting the door, you then sat down on the small couch across the room together.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me right away!”

“If it makes you any happier, you are the first person I’ve explained his actual existence to.”

“Brian mentioned he had met your doctor and that handsome cop you told me about,” Lily replied, and you cringed.

“Both of them don’t know the full story. In fact, I made things worse with Brian’s existence in front of Sungjin.” Lily perked at this, and you waved her off. “It’s a long story.”

“You know what isn’t, though? Eternity.” Placing down her mug of tea, Lily turned in her seat and shook your forearm gently. “You’re sitting on a gold mine here!”

“Hardly. I can write, Lily. Just not about Brian.”

“Why not?”

“It’s as you said, it’s as if I’ve sucked the life out of Brian in my story now. Because he’s out here and not in there.”

Lily grew thoughtful. “Have you asked Brian to help you write the story?”

“Well, no. I’m the writer, and he’s the character.”

“Perhaps he can assist you by making his role more organic again. After all, he knows himself best, doesn’t he?”

She had a point. “Maybe it could work.”

“I don’t blame you for being distracted lately, though. After seeing him, I don’t know how effective I’d be in person either,” she gushed, and you bit your lip as your mouth curved into a delighted smile.

“He’s magical.”

“He’s divine!” Lily enthused with you, and you both giggled.

“And he can hear you,” a voice called out from the other side of the door, and you both gripped onto the other in fright before busting out into laughter once more.

It was good having someone you could talk to fully about the man now in your life.

Lily, after calming down and draining off the rest of her tea, stood from the couch and smiled. “I trust you’ll both get the story started the way it’s meant to go, Y/N.”

“I hope so. I don’t want to be like this with my work. This series has meant a lot to me.”

“Do you need me to stay or will I get in the way of your rendezvous?” she teased, and you swatted a hand out at her. “What?! If I had a chance with someone like Brian, I’d not be able to hold back!”

“I’m decently approaching him, and that’s all there is to it!”

“Maybe you need to get more intimate then. It might help with this final part of the story.”

“Lily!” you cried as she smirked at you. “That’s not what’s in the plans for this world, and you know it!”

“Well, I didn’t expect to meet a character come to life in this world of ours, but it’s happened. Things can easily be adapted, Y/N.”

“Okay! Out with you now!” you demanded with a laugh, pushing your friend to the door of your office.

She hesitated, shooting a wicked look over your shoulder. “You’re sure you’ve done everything when it comes to seeing if Jinyoung-”

“Out!” you repeated, shoving the now laughing woman out of the room. She turned to hug you and then winked at Brian before heading for the front door.

“I expect a proper submission by next week. That’s all the extra time I’m giving you. Have fun in love, the pair of you.”

Once the door shut, Brian smiled warmly at you, capturing your cheek in the palm of his hand. “I quite like her.”

“She’s trouble,” you mentioned with a grin, nuzzling into his hand and pecking it with your lips briefly. “But she’s the right kind of trouble.”

“Sounds just how I would describe you right now,” Brian mentioned, his eyes swirling with a growing need. You knew that look all too well. It had been what had you pinned against a wall first thing this morning.

Maybe Lily was right. Your kissing sessions were only growing longer, more laboured and filling you with a desire you wanted to keep exploring.

Tugging on Brian’s hand, you made your way down to your bedroom with what you hoped to be an alluring smile.

He stopped, but only to scoop you up in his arms. “Oh, you’re definitely the right kind of trouble to have, Miss Writer.”

Despite all your efforts, the story still sat at a standpoint. You had encouraged Brian for input, and once again, you were both seated at your desk, pouring over options for the start of the story.

“It’s not working,” you complained, dropping your head to your tabletop in despair.

“We’ll find a way,” Brian said, though he looked concerned. With your realisation of this, he cleared his throat and ruffled your hair. “Honestly, how hard can this be? I’m the character, so I should know what I want to do next.”

“Do you?”

Brian slumped in his chair and shook his head. “Not a clue.”

“You, much like everyone else in this world, rely on me to write the script,” you stated, sadly and Brian rubbed at his face.

“You’re right. It’s what gave me direction, and it was the words you had started to write that helped me change the scene towards my benefit here and there.”

“So I need to write it. And you need to somehow appear whole again within the world.”

You each fell silent then, neither wanting to speak of what you had thought.

Over the past few days, you had fallen further for Brian. The love you felt for him was never-ending, and it worried you with how attached you had become to him so far. The idea of Brian ever returning to the world he came from made you sick to your stomach.

However, logic also made you realise that was where he needed to go for you to write Eternity. If he was missing from his leading role, how would you be able to pen the world in the way it was meant to be? Being at your side only delighted you, fulfilling your every need and desire.

But it wouldn’t make the story that he’d originally come from work.

You knew he was aware of this too.

Stepping out of the office without more than one line written, you both retired to the couch, sighing at separate intervals.

And then Brian turned to you. “Y/N, can we talk?”

“Always.”

“It’s not working, is it?” he murmured, and you nodded, feeling the rise of your emotions behind the backs of your eyes. You blinked, and he reached out to catch the first tear as it fell. “We’re working too well together here.”

“But the story isn’t at all,” you whispered, and Brian sighed again. “With you here, Charli and everyone else is suspended in air, waiting for your return. You exist in that world just as much as you exist here.”

“And I can’t be in both at the same time,” Brian admitted, and you dropped your head, tears spilling into your lap. “I have to go back, don’t I?”

“Maybe I don’t need to write this story. I have plenty of other ideas, and breaking out of the contract isn’t so bad, right? I mean, I’ll take a loss but I can afford to pay the publishing house-”

“Y/N,” he said, and you shook your head adamantly.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Do you think I want to either? I’m happier here than there. I want to be with you, not Charli, not in a world where I have a past that haunts me and people who want me dead. Here I can be just me. The guy who loves you.”

“You love me?” you asked, and stared up into Brian’s now glossy eyes. He smiled weakly. “Do you really love me, Brian Kang?”

“I love you,” he told you earnestly, and you leaned in to kiss him, desperation rolling between you both. It was rushed and messy, yet your hearts collided together in the middle, confirming the feelings you both had for one another. It made you want more, yearn for every part of the man you had come to love so easily in the flesh. You had loved him a whole lot longer than this, but now you could truly confirm that love came from his actions, and not how you wrote them.

Shifting back, as the tears somehow managed to still fall, your bottom lip wobbled. “I love you too.”

“Which is why you plan to send me away again, right?” Brian asked, choking on his own emotions. “I have to go so you can finish this world.”

“Can’t we just leave it?” you pleaded, and Brian shook his head. You mirrored the action, knowing you wouldn’t be satisfied either. This was a world you had created, and you couldn’t just leave it without answers to the questions you had raised so far.

“Will you come back to me?”

“As soon as you’ve written the very last word,” Brian promised, kissing your temples as you both began to cry.

Clinging onto him, Brian attempted to soothe your wild sobs, rubbing at your back whilst burying into you himself. It was heartbreaking, like any typical angst scene. You knew it had to happen for character growth, and yet this was a pinnacle moment for sheer pain. Your whole body ached at the mere concept of parting from him.

“It’s not as if I’ll leave you for good, Y/N,” Brian mentioned, as if he read your thoughts. “I’ll always be right here with you. Through the screen. You’ll see me, during moments where I go along with your story plans, and at the times I test them. You’ll know I’ll be there supporting you, and your choices in writing Eternity to the very end.”

“I know, but you won’t be here, holding me like this anymore either,” you told him, and Brian grew silent, knowing whatever he could think of to calm you now, wouldn’t. “We don’t know what will happen if you go back. Will you be able to leave me notes like last time? Or will the story suck you back in and keep you there, at Charli’s side and not mine?”

“I’ll find my way back to you, Y/N. You know I will,” Brian urged, and you held onto that hope, leaning in to kiss him once more. “I don’t want to live in a world where I’m not with you.”

“I know,” you agreed, nodding into him. Words seemed pointless now, both of you overwhelmed by the decision.

Eventually, Brian helped you up, taking you down the hallway to your bedroom, and laying with you as he had started to do recently. Somehow, you fell into dreams, of you and Brian together, married, with children and living out your domestically and homely life together. He was right. You didn’t aspire to be in the front limelight of anything apart from your simple goals in life.

With him at your side.

Yet, when the morning shone through, and you opened your eyes, you were alone in bed.

And there laid a note on the pillow Brian had once rested his head upon.

I love you, Y/N. I will come back to you as soon as I can.

As the tears formed in your eyes, you got up from your bed and went into the office, staring at the open screen of your laptop. Waking it up, there was the document for Eternity waiting for you to continue.

The words finally came.

_________________

Part 9

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spookysquish13 · 3 years

Text

THE START

The Start Author Note: Hi guys! Im Morph. I wanted to try my hand in some writing. I didn't know where to start with JJ and saw someone wanted Pop Punk JJ. Pop Punk used to be my life and felt that this was actually meant to be. -- This seems shorter then what I wanted, but I didnt know where to stop or start or any of it.

*ps. i got locked out of my old account and am reposting my works.*

The start "I swear to fucking god Chris, I'll turn this fucking car aroundShut the fuck up" beach boy mccafferty WARNINGS: Drug use, moving, mosh pit, circle pit, blood

After years of hard work things changed drastically in the last few months. You were moving to the outer banks. You found an apartment and an old good friend from way back when, who's lived there for some time is going to help you get your bearings.

---

You spent all day with your friend, Charlie, helping you unpack and decorating a bit. You moved into a decent 2 bedroom apartment. It has a nice sized living room, your tv stand is a long 9 shelf cubed bookshelf, which allowed room for your movie collection with room to grow. There is a little patio in the back with a grill, and a cute little kitchen with a pantry out-cove.

There is enough room for some people to comfortably stay over while having space to move around. Nothing spectacular but good enough to call a new home.

In the bedroom you have the regular pinterest decor, headboard and footboard with lights wrapped around the spindles. In the second room you have a futon and a little record player corner, with some old records you found at thrift stores on the wall. In the living room you put out a polaroid camera so when people come in you can take their pictures. A way to remember some memories. You took a picture with Charlie when she received a text. While you are hanging the picture on the wall where the camera is located, Charlie screams and runs into your room looking through your closet.

"WE are going to a show tonight!" Charlie says trying to pick out outfits for herself and for you. She tells you to go shower after moving in this heat you need to be fresh for the concert.

---

You settle on a state champs t-shirt that you bleach tye dyed yourself tucked into ripped jean shorts with black matte doc martens. Doing your hair in space buns because they are freaking cute, and minimal makeup. Winged eyeliner, mascara and some liquid lipstick.

Charlie comes out of the bathroom running around gathering her stuff as she tells you that our ride is here. In the old van you see many heads already in the back. Charlie climbs into the passenger side and the side door slides open for you to get in. Charlie introduces you to the driver, Kie and points behind her saying that the two boy's names were Pope and JJ. Pope was studying from some book and JJ was finishing rolling a joint.

Pope looks up from his book and offers you his hand. "pleased to meet you" "Same here" You shake the boys hand and chuckle at him trying to read in the dark.

You offer your hand to JJ but shuffles around trying to do a two handed task with only one hand. You apologize and he ends up giving you the typical dude-bro sup nod, which you return. JJ tries to offer the blunt to the entire car, pope refusing, saying something keeping a channel clear? Clean? Kie said no because she's driving, Charlie says no thank you but you say yes and you could see the surprise on JJ's face.

When you get there you have to buy tickets at the front booth. Kie bought the boys their tickets and you bought Charlie's for all of her help.

You didn't plan on sticking together, so you push through the crowd and you go up to the point of were the mosh pit would eventually start. To your surprise everyone followed you through. Once the main band came on the pit opened and you felt the freedom you were desperate to feel after this move. It was good to be in the pit, no one knew names and no one really paid attention to faces. You could be anyone you wanted to be during this time. How you looked while dancing didn't matter, there was some guys on the floor scooting around pretending to be in a row boat. You felt safe even though there was nothing but chaos. People were always polite and looked out for girls in the pit. During one of the heavier songs there was a circle pit opening and you started to run. You lost footing, clumsy as always, but there were veiny tan arms around your waste as soon as you started falling.

"I got you" JJ tries to not yell too loud in your ear. Where his hands were, your skin immediately turned into fire. It felt like his hands were burning into your skin. You have never felt such electricity from another being ever before. You were speechless, as you two just met. You could just nod in response.

After the song ended, you went to get a water, not being in a concert for a while took more out of you than you expected. You saw JJ coming up next to you, and you shout make it two. You pay for the waters and he walks to go outside, making sure you are following him.

"Hey, Y/N, right?" JJ asks after drinking almost half of the water bottle at once. "Thank you very much for the water"

"It was the least I could do, you saved me from being boot mush." You chuckled at yourself, couldn't you at-least try to sound cooler.

"I heard you just moved here, Charlie is a good friend of Kie, Charlie is a good friend of yours, by proximity you are close with Kie. I protect my friends." there was a darkness in JJ's eyes, a different shade than before. The color did something to your heart but shook the feeling off. You just met this boy, take it easy. In this light you could see his lip had a scab on it, which was now bleeding.

"Hey, did that happen in there?" You point to your lip as he goes to swipe his own.

"Fuck, no, it just opened back up. Im tougher then that a circle pit isn't going to make me bleed" JJ chuckles and rolls his eyes, flexing his muscles through a grey long sleeve t-shirt. Which is he now using the hem as a napkin to brush some blood away.

"Lets head back" JJ nods to the entrance doors, holding one for you.

You knew you would follow this man named JJ anywhere and you just met him. You wanted to know where JJ got that busted lip from. You wanted to know more about this group. The way JJ talked about his group, it felt like it could be the family you have always wanted.

What else could come with this move? This might have been the best choice you have ever made in your entire life.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj poppunk #morphwrites #obxstuff

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 113

Sooo.... I completely did not realize my queue dumped itself again, or that this chapter didn’t post when it should have. So I’m sorry for the slightly-delayed update!

Thanks to @baelpenrose for their beta-reading, as always. This chapter loops back to something that came up previously and I hate loose ends dangling around everywhere. Content warnings for anger issues, trauma, and poor coping mechanisms.

“Dude, I’m making soup,” I jokingly scolded Maverick as I took the bowl of pumpkin seeds away from him. After the camping trip, I had made the brilliant decision to roast the seeds we had harvested. All of them. Ten pounds of them, it turned out. How he wasn’t sick of eating them, I had no idea.

With a pout, he made grabby-hands at the bowl. “What kind?”

“Potato,” I informed him as I pivoted away and carried the bowl back to the kitchen and put the lid on it.

It didn’t take long for him to join me and start requesting potatoes from the food console. Even though they were freshly-generated and already clean, he started washing them anyway. I was pretty sure the action ranked up there with utensils being in exactly-the-right place, because he always washed the vegetables that he got from the console. It didn’t hurt anything, though, so we generally just let him do it.

About an hour later, we were sitting at the table with two bowls of velvety, off-white soup - his topped with sour cream, bacon, and cheese, mine just topped with scallions - and dug in. Conor was on Beta-shift at work currently, so we made sure to put the lid on the rest to keep it warm. Even though the temperature on the Ark never changed beyond a ten-degree variance, the camping trip had triggered something in me that said “Autumn”, and soup was exactly what I needed right then.

I had just finished my first bowl, and Maverick was halfway through his second - with somehow even more bacon - when the door opened and Conor stalked in. Everything in his body language screamed that he was angry about something, and I subconsciously held my breath. Glancing at Maverick, I saw him arch an eyebrow at me before turning to our clearly-upset partner.

“Everything okay?” he ventured slowly.

“Work. Huynh,” he grunted, shoving a hand through his hair as he started pacing into the kitchen, past the table, into the living room, and back. “Stupid pre-fab structures. We don’t… Stupid!” Grasping for words, he only seemed to get more and more frustrated. On his next trip into the kitchen, he grabbed a bowl and thought he was going to try to eat, but instead I saw him start to raise the bowl higher.

Maverick stood, rushed over, and snatched the bowl from him. “We talked about this. If you throw that, you’ll give Sophia the panic attack she is trying not to have right now. I told you before, if you give her a panic attack again, I would knock you out. Please don’t make me keep my word.” Rather than angry, he sounded distressed and sad. “What are you supposed to do when you get frustrated like this?”

“Run,” Conor grunted, rubbing his face briskly before gesturing at his sweat-stained coveralls. “And I did. For miles and miles. It didn’t help. And I’m supposed to try to talk about what I’m angry about, but that’s even more frustrating, because I… I can’t explain it fast enough.”

Nodding, Maverick ladled soup into the bowl before gently pushing Conor to the table and setting the now-full bowl in front of him. Without even realizing what he was doing, Conor started tearing a roll in half and dipping it in the soup - he ate every soup like that, and it was the weirdest thing I had ever seen. But it meant he was calming down, apparently, because he couldn’t rant and eat at the same time, and the man had priorities.

“I’m frustrated, because Huynh wants us to start prototypes for the pre-fabs that we will be using on Von,” he confessed, angrily dunking another chunk of bread and shoving it in his mouth. “I still think it’s too early. I talked to Noah, and the last information they have about the planet is a decade old. We aren’t close enough to drop out of whatever FTL we are using and get fresh scans, and we can’t get communications while we’re travelling, apparently, because… FTL.”

I nodded tentatively, encouraging him to go on, and started putting butter on a roll to keep myself calm. So far, he wasn’t nearly as angry as it usually took for him to start throwing things, and he hadn’t had an episode in a while, so…. So far, so good.

He saw my nod and kept going. “I just think he’s putting the cart before the horse. We shouldn’t be constructing things based on old data, and major climate change can happen over ten years.” We’d found that out the hard way, unfortunately.

“What does Charly think?” Maverick asked.

“She’s on Gamma shift this week, so I didn’t get a chance to ask her,” he confessed sullenly. At this point, he was out of soup and still trying to stab a piece of bread through the bottom of his bowl, so Maverick gently took it away and refilled it. “Thanks, love. So, I couldn’t ask Charly her suggestion, Huynh won’t listen, and I just… I feel like I’m barking in the wind.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I tried to do everything I was supposed to do.”

“I don’t think it’s working.” Maverick’s statement wasn’t said unkindly, and Conor shrugged and nodded in response. “What else have you and your therapist discussed?”

“I have an appointment tomorrow,” he answered, rather than answering the question.

“Then you need to talk to them about another way to vent your frustration,” Maverick insisted. “And where these anger issues are coming from.”

Conor mumbled something, prompting us to lean forward to better hear him. When I made a gesture to repeat himself, he sighed. “We’ve talked about that, and I think I know where it’s coming from, it’s just…. It’s embarrassing.”

“It can’t be any more embarrassing than anything you know about either of us,” Maverick tried to point out, prompting me to scowl at him. “Hey! I literally slept through the end of the world.”

That got a chuckle out of Conor, but he got serious again quickly. “The anger…” he started, clearly reluctant. “So, I was an orphan. Parents died when I was - four? Five?” We nodded - this wasn’t new information so far. They’d died in an accident, and neither had any family. He’d mentioned siblings, but they were his foster siblings throughout the years. “I got bounced around the foster system a bit as a kid, but I think I got lucky. None of my foster families were bad, necessarily, but I think that made it worse when I got moved from home to home. Every time I started to let myself get close and open up…. I would get taken and moved to another family for one reason or another. This family moved, that couple got too old to keep fostering kids, one of my foster mom’s got cancer and her wife couldn’t take care of me and Mum at the same time. No one’s fault but… I felt so betrayed. So I… I started getting angry and pushing people away, making sure that I wouldn’t get close to them just to lose them again.” That word, betrayed, tickled something in my mind. It was too familiar. “I got moved from family to family even more after that, but it hurt less, right? Because I wasn’t getting attached, and I was being moved because of anger issues. Because of something I did.”

“So… you’re pushing us away?” I asked, not even trying to hide my hurt feelings.

“I’m getting there, swear.” His response was very firm before he picked up where he left off. “Eventually, I turned eighteen, I was on my own, and now I really felt like I had control over my life. I started an engineering program, I saw a therapist, and a lot of that anger went away.”

“That’s where the You we normally see came out?” Maverick asked, direct as always.

“Yeah. I was happier, calmer… I wasn’t a scared little boy anymore. I felt more stable.”

“And then…?”

“And then the world went tits up,” Conor laughed sadly. “I didn’t have much control over which people were in my life and which weren’t, but it was the After, right? I did manage to find a group who were pretty peaceful, and I stuck it out there. Then I woke up here, and I could be happy again. I tried to be the version of myself that I liked, instead of that angry little boy.”

That was when it clicked. Betrayed. “Then Arantxa…”

“Yeah, then Arantxa,” he confirmed quietly. “And you almost died.”

Tyche’s words from the day she busted my lip came back to me. For three weeks, I had to watch you try to figure out if you were going to live or die! Conor had to watch you… “Three times,” I whispered without realizing it.

“Twice,” Conor corrected, not realizing I was talking about what Tyche had said. “Once after you were attacked, and once when we were trying to figure out what was going on with Else.” Huffing, he shoved his now-empty bowl toward Maverick. “Please take that, I’m getting angry again.”

“Thanks for recognizing that,” Maverick nodded. “But I don’t think you’re mad. I think you just feel out of control again thinking about it.”

“That’s what my therapist says,” he admitted. “But inside, it feels like anger. And after Arantxa, when I started feeling that kind of angry, I… I felt like that scared little boy again. I didn’t realize I was doing it, until I started talking to Josh, but they think I subconsciously started pushing you away more every time something would happen.” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “To… I don’t know, make you show me who you ‘really’ are, to make you leave me before you can decide to leave, or before you actually die one time.”

“So, this is about me,” I ventured slowly. “Not Maverick at all.”

“I don’t mean it’s your fault,” Conor objected quickly. “None of this is your fault, that I react the wrong way when I feel like I need more control over situations.”

It started dawning on me what he was talking about. “PTSD. You’re talking about PTSD. Not just the kind we all have from the After, but… from moving around so much when you were growing up. From not having a secure situation.”

My mind started racing, connecting the dots. Before moving in with me, neither Maverick nor Conor had what would have been considered ‘proper’ quarters - both had essentially chosen personal quarters barely big enough for a bed. Maverick had admitted early on when we were still only friends, that he had chosen his because he never really had anything and spent his entire life after his dad died wandering from place to place, never really belonging. So he had a habit of being ready to pick up and go at a moment’s notice, and tried to take up as little space as possible in the process. It was no secret - he did it deliberately and had no shame regarding the situation.

It had never occurred to me that Conor did the same thing without realizing it.

Maverick shook his head. I thought he was negating what I had said, but then he sighed. “We’re a mess, you know that?” Leaning back, he stretched and put his hands behind his head. “I think we should have a therapy session or four, together, about all this.”

Both Conor and I turned slowly to stare at him, wide-eyed. “When did you start being the sensible one?”

He pointed a finger at me. “You run headfirst into every dangerous situation you can find.” The finger flicked to point at Conor. “And you are convinced you’re an idiot, which is the only idiotic thing I’ve actually heard you say.” Smugly, he put his hands back behind his head and smiled. “I’ve always been the sensible one.”

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#the miys #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #hfy #found family #aliens #food #relationships #polyamory #earth is space australia #science fiction #original science fiction #sci fi #original sci fi #my writing #original fiction

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

We’re Outsiders

This is a re-upload, or a throwback (originally written back in 2018). I hope you guys enjoy it too! I’ve edited it a little bit as well, since it’s original posting on the ye old @calumh-excess.

Calum’s used to being the on the fringe and used to be the one that fucks it all up. Cookie’s always used to being on the outside. Happens most of the time and completely out of her control. Together, they remind each other it’s okay to be on the outside--all you need sometimes is a shot.

Greaser!AU. Black OC.

CW: Deals with racism (some mentions of racially charged words), mentions of violence.

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me on Ko-fi!

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Calum’s used to the dark. Most nights it’s just him out too late, past the time the street lights turn on. He likes it, driving down streets in the blinking of the streetlights as he glides over asphalt. The roads lined with trees and houses. The roads are lined with life that moves all around him, but are not bothered by him. That brings him peace. He’s so often the outsider. He’s the one that everyone stares at, with soft whispers. He knows what they’re saying is never good. He’s built that reputation for himself, with his slicked back hair, cuffed jeans and leather jacket. He’s done it to himself, being other and further ostracizing himself.

It’s not the life he chose for himself. His parents kicked him out and he had nowhere else to go. So Ashton, a guy from the south side that Calum had grown comfortable with, offered his house. It kept him in the same school for his last year and off the streets, so he took it. His friend group expanded, but now he was getting himself in more trouble than usual. Originally not a Prep and not a Greaser, Calum had managed to keep under the radar for the first year of high school. But now that he was living with Ashton, a prominent Greaser and hanging with the likes of Michael and Luke. Calum made a new name for himself.

Calum’s parents weren’t a fan of his interest in boxing. Calum took to amateur boxing as a way to finally feel like someone. His stature made it easy for him to lie about his age in the beginning of it at barely fifteen and no one cared enough to double check. Calum knew he’d never really go anywhere ultimately. He knew he’d wind up somewhere local, knew he’d end up in overalls in the car shop, changing tires and oil. After coming home too many times, coming home bloody, his parents had had enough.

Now with the Greasers, it was becoming evident Calum wasn’t just some quiet guy in the corner. His interest was saving his ass. When people wanted to pin them into corners, get into their faces, he always had a backup plan in his pocket. Fighting wasn’t his first resort, not initially. He’d try to talk a situation down. It doesn’t last long for anyone trying to pick a fight. Just about any and every fight ended with Calum standing, sometimes wavering just a little over some poor boy’s sweater vest and plaid shirt, covered in blood droplets, his fists put up in front of his face.

“Maybe sometimes, I just ought to run away from a fight,” Calum huffs to himself as his bike putters to a halt in front of the diner. “And I ought to gas this up more often too.”

He knew before he got the school to tutor that he needed to grab some gas. But he definitely thought he’d make it to the station closer to the city line. Tutoring felt like a saving grace. After work Calum spent a few hours at the school helping kids. It reminded him that he wasn’t all bad. It made him realize there was still humanity to him.

The kids he tutored normally never cared about school. They were too busy trying to survive, not wanting to be the next Black body to wash up into a river or hanging like strange fruit from a tree. But they needed school, even though Calum empathized with them, he knew they needed the basics. They needed to write, do basic addition, needed to read just a little bit. So that’s how he worked with them. He’d level with them, You can’t take that girl out on a date if you don’t know how to count how much cash you have and how much it’s gonna cost you. And you definitely can’t be cool daddy-o, if you not reading well.

The thing about kids is that they always asked; they knew he was trying to survive too in a world that seemed like it was always trying to kill them. If he came back with a black eye, or a busted lip, they asked him if his addition got him out of that fight. Calum would try not to encourage this kind of behavior, but he had to admit, the joke would be funny. Calum would reply nearly the same way, “Yeah, I added one fist plus two fists and put his candy ass flat. I’ll try subtraction next time.”

Right now though, Calum’s gotta focus on getting gas. He passes this diner all the time. He’s just never stopped here. It’s a silent understanding that this is a Blacks only establishment. He’s given a few kids rides after tutoring here. The parking lot is always full of Black people hanging around the doors and in cars, laughing as they part from their full meals. Just a couple minutes past here by vehicle is his own town, mostly white, some Blacks sprinkled into the mix. City’s split into thirds. There’s the northern side, the southern quarter and the Western side. The Black part of town neighbors right on the edge of this town. He knows it’s done strategically. The edges have become blended over time. But it’s not by a lot. The divisions aren’t invisible.

Because of winter’s grip even though it’s only closing in on evening, the darkness keeps most people in their own homes. Booths are empty. A couple tables hold people sitting. The hostess looks up from wiping down counters, smiling. She looks vaguely familiar, he thinks, as she leans against the dry part of the counter. “What can I do ya for?”

“Gas. And maybe a shake too,” Calum counters.

Her grin widens. “I can help with the shake.”

Calum goes onto to explain, “Bike’s empty. I reckon I should pay more attention.”

He watches the way her full flips twist up, her coily hair pinned back and a dainty little white flower headband tied around the middle. She raps her fingers against the counter. “Charlie boy!” she hollers turning to the kitchen.

“He in the back gettin’ ready leave,” comes a booming voice.

“He got his gas can still in his car?” There’s a shout in return and she turns back around, voice returning to her normal sweet tone. “Give me just a second.”

Calum nods, sliding onto the barstool. She slips from the counters, running into the kitchen. He notes the lack of a skirt. Her pants are tight around her thighs and hitting her just below the knees. Wait a second, he knows those leopard print pants anywhere. Her father was the one that had a crossed burned in their front yard a couple years back. It was the only time they seemed to be targeted, but rocks were thrown their windows too.

Calum sat next to her in English in tenth grade. The last year they had together before her family moved. He heard rumors that her family owned this place. But he wasn’t sure how true those were. She was always nice to him in school. “It ain’t no white boy!” she huffs, the doors sway close behind her.

A dark skinned man, bald too, stares Calum down, lips pressed together. After a silent moment, the man speaks. His voice deep and gruff. “He da one fix Ma car. Why you ain’t tell me it was him?” It’s a playful scoff from the man as he bumps her with elbow. “I’ll be back.”

Calum recognizes him. The man scared the shit out of Calum when he walked into the car shop. He looked mean, but it was just the years wearing down his brow line. He has to put on a mean face because it keeps everyone from bothering him, as he explained to Calum. “Thank you,” Calum says, sliding down and fishing out his wallet from his jacket pocket.

“Oh, keep dat. Keep it,” the man waves his hand, turning away from him.

“At least something?” Cal asks. “For the trouble?” He holds out a five dollar bill.

“If you think it I can’t spare a couple bucks,” the man starts.

The girl cuts him off. “Charlie just go get the damn gas. Ain’t no one trying to say anything or start anything. Just go.”

Calum continues to hold out the bill even as the man disappears into the back. She slides behind the counter and Calum pushes the bill towards her. “Make sure he gets that.”

“You do realize he’s gonna raise hell. He’s too proud.”

“Please.” Calum continues to hold her gaze and all the time he’s trying to pull her name to the top of his brain. Was it Deborah? She had a nickname that she went by. Calum feels his tongue curling, but everything to the comes to the tip of it feels wrong.

With a sigh, she nods and slips the bill into the pocket of her apron. “I’ll make sure he gets it. Charlie not mean, just hardheaded. As I’m sure you know, Calum.”

He lets a small laugh escape him. “Yeah, yeah I do. Wait, you remember my name?”

She winks at him. “Course I do. I remember everyone’s name. Still want that shake?” Truth be told, she didn’t always remember everyone’s name. But she remembered his, couldn’t forget it really.

“Surprise me,” he grins.

She smiles with a shake of her head. She doesn’t go far, around the wall that separates the kitchen from the back of the counter seating. Her conversation with the cook is short. Calum leans into the counter.

When she turns back around, she notices his the silver chain around his neck as he plays with it. He looks like his mind is far away. She takes in his appearance, the golden skin, the bruises probably days old due to the coloration fading. He really hadn’t changed all that much since the last time she saw him. Maybe he got a little bit more handsome. Maybe it was a change in the cut of his jaw or the chub to his cheeks had slimmed just a hair. But it was still very much Calum in front of her.

“Been in trouble?” she asks, gently rubbing her fingers over the bruises along the back of his knuckles. Her eyes linger on the one on the top of his cheek. Her cousin had told her that he seemed to be on the straight for now, but his healing body says something different.

Calum tries to recover from the shiver running down his spine. His voice is shaky as he speaks. “I’ve been trouble.”

“Cats scared of you know, huh?” Calum hears the teasing lilt to her tone, trying to keep the subject light. He shrugs at her question in response. “I’m not. I seen you fight. You ain’t so big and bad.”

It was once. She wasn’t even sure what it was over, just happened to be turning the corner to the building to walk home and behind the school a group had gathered, Calum at the center. He was breathing heavy, fists clenched. It was he was the calm eye to the hurricane of people hollering and shouting at the fighting match happening.

“Miss stealing your English notes,” he offers. That’s not what he wants to be known for, that’s not what he wants to be remembered by as the guy that could fight. “And those tiny hearts as periods,” he chuckles. The first time he saw it, he wasn’t sure if it was a heart or not. But as he skimmed over her notes more, the clear it became that those oddly large periods were really hearts in disguise.

Totally a sore subject, so she won’t be prodding that bull anymore. “Everyone here hates ‘em.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin splitting his lips. “They were kinda cute. Hope you ain’t do it for all the cats needing your notes?”

“That’s just the way I write,” she laughs. “But for you, maybe for you they were a little bigger than most.”

“Don’t do that to me, doll,” Calum laughs. “Don’t go getting my hopes up.”

“I ain’t trying to do that. By no means.” They laugh, gazes falling from each other after a moment. He didn’t know this about her. The side that liked to dish out the jabs. They didn’t ever really interact a whole lot in class, or after school when he’d return her notes. But he likes this. He likes their back and forth.

“Did you know you used to tutor my cousin?” Calum tilts his head to the side, trying to go through the catalog of his kids. He’s trying to place her face with those that he knows. But he’s coming up short. She continues on though. “You remember Elijah? Always bettin’ somebody?”

As the grin overtakes his face, Calum laughs. “Yes, yeah, I remember that kid. Always squeezin’ me for fifty cent!”

She laughs, nodding. “That’s Elijah. He’s kept his grades up. Not all A’s. But he’s doing good. He never stopped talking about all the bets y’all made. He could bash ears about you.”

“He was a good kid. Tell ‘im I said hi, will ya?”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Cookie!” a voice bellows. That’s it! That’s the nickname. At the back of his brain, he kept trying to pull it to the surface. But just couldn’t for the life of him. She spins around, grabbing the plate and glass in the window. It’s a slice of pie as far as Calum can tell and a shake. She grabs some silverware and then slides the plate and glass in front of Calum.

“No need for you to be waitin’ and be starvin’.”

“Tell me, Cookie,” he grins as the nickname slides off his tongue, “care to split this slice with me? I remember what my momma taught me about eating dessert before dinner.”

She clicks her tongue against her teeth. “Hmm,” she considers, fingers tapping at her chin. “You can get away with the nickname. This time,” she adds on, watching Calum’s brows shooting up on his face. “You’re not the only one that can dish out a knuckle sandwich.”

Calum taps the heels of his boots together, the soft thuds echoing in the quiet air of the dinner. “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

“You better be.”

They talk about their lives, Calum working at the shop and her finishing up school though it feels like for sure she’s spending too much time at the diner. She does it mostly to help out since her parents are short staffed at the moment. Tiny pieces are cut between laughs and shy glances up from between lashes. Without even realizing the last fork clinks against the empty plate as Charlie walks back into the diner, through the front doors. “That your bike out front?”

“Yes, sir,” Calum answer, sliding off the stool.

“C’mon, and I’ll fill her up.”

“Thank you again for helpin’ me.”

“You good people. Don’t sweat it.” He doesn’t wait around before stepping back into the dark of the now thickly settled in night.

“How much do I owe you?” He turns to Cookie and nods towards the half finished shake. She waves a hand before pulling out his five from earlier.

“Let’s just say it’s on the house.” Calum goes to speak and she shakes her head. “He won’t take the money. I’ll use it to cover the bill and give him extra on his tip,” she whispers. “Believe me, I’ve got things all worked out over here.”

It’s a fair enough system and Calum hurriedly slips into his jacket before his boots click against the floor. Charlie doesn’t seem like the kind of man to keep waiting. And Calum definitely doesn’t want to find out the hard way. But as his feet carry him closer and closer to the door, his gut keeps jumping. He doesn’t want to let this be the last time he sees Cookie.

And maybe it’s just the late night and the first time a girl looked at him that didn’t throw herself at him. Sure, Cookie flirted and he flirted back. But girls had two modes with him, they either ran away from him or they were just looking for a good time. Calum normally didn’t have anything against that. But that’s not what he wanted. He wanted someone he could laugh with, someone that saw behind the bruises.

With one hand still holding the door open, Calum turns just a bit. “Cookie,” he starts, turning around. He might be pushing it just a little with the nickname. But the way she smiles lets him know that maybe she likes it too. “Mind if I see you again?”

“My English notes are always available. You know where to find me.” It ends with a nod. The bright smile that makes Calum’s stomach knot up again.

“I’ll see ya ‘round, doll.”

__________________________________________

The dinner rush seems like it’s never going to end. The second she thinks she can keep up with her tables, someone’s asking for a refill on the drink, or needing extra condiments, or more napkins. But finally, she can see through the windows again. The parking lot doesn’t look like a party of it’s own. Cookie exhales, plopping down into the barstool. If her hair weren’t already pinned back, it would’ve fallen into her face. It’s only Friday. Tomorrow will be much worse. However, right now, she can take a deep breathe. She can take a moment for herself. Cookie presses her forehead into the cool counter.

The door chimes again. God, not someone else. Not another patron. However, no matter how much she wants to disappear into the ethos, she swallows the complaints back down and pops up off the stool. “Booth or table?” she asks, automatically reaching for some menus.

“Tellin’ me the counter’s not free?” Calum grins.

She places a menu down, gesturing with a sweeping motion to the spot she once sat. “All for you.”

Calum shrugs out of his coat, draping it over the seat next to him. He chews on his bottom lip. She’s grinning up at him and he knows it’s not the same grin everyone gets. Her eyes twinkle too though he can tell she’s tired. “Full of gas today?”

It’s been a week since he had to drop in after running out. He didn’t expect her to drop it. She probably would never drop it either. “All the to the tip top,” he exhales with a tuft of laughter. She’s leaning into the end of the counter, the little part that starts to turn into the two doors that tell customers to keep out.

“Charlie Boy says thanks for the tip.” A table across from her flags her down and they lock gazes for a second. The exchange of acknowledgement nods. “I’ll be right back to get your drink.”

Calum nods, watching her rush away. It’s a skirt today but the blue matches the decor inside and he concludes it’s the uniform. Why she wasn’t wearing on that fated Wednesday he’s not sure. But he liked that. Like that she didn’t always try to fit in.

Calum looks over the menu and everything looks to die for. But he’s not really ordering anything, didn’t even intend to. He only came by to see her. Money was getting tighter thanks to repairs needed for the house, but it’s nothing that he and Ashton can’t scrap the money together for. Though, Calum was sure Ashton was going to flip a lid if he had to pulled more money for his car funds.

Cookie darts around the counter, grabbing the coffee pot and smiles when she notices Calum watching her. “Didn’t forget. Promise I’m coming back.”

“No rush. You workin’.”

When she finally gets settled again, Calum leans his elbows onto the table and rests his chin on the flat of his knuckles. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Besides working my ass off here?”

“Cookie what I tell you about all that swearin’!” The voice is distinct but he can’t place who it belongs too. The whole diner is still pretty packed and with all the waitress in the same uniform, it’s almost like a blur happening around him.

She rolls her eyes, reaches into the pocket of her apron and drops a nickel into the tip jar. “I swore yesterday and never put my two pennies in. I’m just covering myself for the next one,” she explains with a small laugh.

“Besides workin’, what are your plans?”

She shrugs. “Don’t get off until 9. I should probably get some homework done.”

“Would you be interested in catchin’ a movie?”

“Askin’ for passion pit?” At first Calum thinks she’s serious. He didn’t think his reputation was going down like that. He was a gentleman. A fighter of course, but always a gentleman. He goes to defend himself and how he’d treat her like a lady until he sees the grin on her face.

“Oh, just keep yankin’ my leg, huh? So you dig?”

She nods. “My only question, where?”

“I’m not sure of places around here, besides I have a bike. Not really drive in material. But there’s one not too far just across the west line.”

He can feel the hesitation on her. He prays she doesn’t say no. He figured that one would be close enough to her old neighborhood, it won’t put her too far into dangerous spot. The North side of town is no place for her. Nor is any spot for him to be casually. He knows that. He’s not blind to the looks Black people get in groceries stores or walking down streets. He’s not blind to the news or the lack of news surrounding disappearances.

“How far across the line?”

“Minute. Two max. Close to your old neighborhood.”

She bites onto her lip, looking up to the ceiling. “I haven’t been on that side in a while. I know those people are cool with you. South siders are thick as thieves. I’m just, nervous. But I’ll go. If it gets too bad, we gotta go. No one’s gonna burn a cross, but, I just, I’m worried.”

Calum nods. “Of course. If ya want, we could go to the one over here.”

“You’ll get nasty looks too.”

“Don’t mean you gotta sacrifice yourself.”

Her laughter is sad and heavy as it falls from her throat. She opens her mouth to say something. She wants to joke that sometimes her entire existence feels like a sacrifice, that somehow her mere existence felt inherently politicized and a form of rebellion. She doesn’t let it cross her lips though. Instead, she swallows it back down and shakes her head. “Now, what’s cookin’ good lookin’? What can I do ya for?”

Calum reaches out for her hand. The touch is light, makes her insides tingle too, if she’s honest. “You already did it. See you tomorrow, Cookie.”

“I apologize if my father’s a bummer tomorrow. Keeps a tight ship. I’ll still be able to go. But that ain’t to say you won’t have to fight for it.”

Calum nods before taking his hands back and sliding into the jacket. He’ll keep that in mind. “I’ll break out my loafers,” he grins. “Get ‘em spit shined too.”

Her laughter follows Calum out the door and through his entire ride back to the house. When Calum walks in, Ashton immediately note the grin on his friend’s lip. “What you got up to?”

Calum shakes his head, pulling his jacket off. “Nothing.”

“Nothing surely looks like a hell of a lot like something. You cheesin’ too damn hard. That girl?”

“She’s nice.”

“Just be careful.” Ashton doesn’t miss the questioning glance of his friend. He holds his hands up. “Look, don’t shoot. I’m just saying, this town ain’t too fond of people like her. She moved for a reason.”

“You fond of people like her? They folks just like us.”

“I’m not saying that, and you know it.” Ashton retorts, his gaze firm and mouth twisted down into a scowl. Ashton knows he’s not like the rest of the town. But he doesn’t want to see his friend washed up and bloated from the river. “But you gotta be careful with her. The world’s inherently against her. And you could get caught in the middle.”

Calum understands the sentiment, but sees no issues. He’s not naive to think the world’s just gonna open their arms. But people aren’t that bad. He doesn’t believe that, even if it felt like he was constantly fighting. He had to believe that there are good people out there. If not, the rest of his life would be hard and full of more scraps. “I can handle if I get caught in the middle.”

“But do you want to handle getting caught in the middle?”

“C’mon, man, do you hear yourself? I like her. She’s nice. She don’t look at my bruises and think she has to run away from me.”

“That’s awesome. You know I’m rootin’ for y’all. But you are in just as much danger as she is. And you already got plenty of people who don’t like you. It’s all they need. They’d only need a reason.”

Calum knows Ashton is right. He knows that anyone that didn’t already like him would really like him now. However, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve a chance. That doesn’t mean Calum can just run away.

“I like her.” It’s final as it falls from his lips.

He brushes shoulders with Ashton as he heads to his room. It’s not meant to be mean, Ashton just can’t bare the thought of something happening. The world can’t be all bad. But it can and very much did get pretty bad. An hour or two later, as Calum just starts to feel the grip of sleep, there’s a knock on his door. He snaps awake and walks to the door.

Ashton’s holding out a cookie, from the pack they bought last week from groceries. “It’s the last one. I didn’t want to take it without asking.”

Calum wipes at his face one last time, leaning into the molding of the door. His stomach growls and he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything yet. He takes hold of the chocolate chip cookie and chuckles. “Her nickname is Cookie, ya know?” He says taking a bite of the treat.

“Well, Daddy-O, you’ll be callin’ her baby real soon.”

Calum throws a weak, half-hearted punch to Ashton’s gut. “Fuck off,” he laughs.

Ashton curls up, blocking most of the blow. He laughs too. The tension from earlier disappears. Calum understands Ashton’s concerns, but he can handle himself. One date isn’t going to end the world. He knows it won’t make the world a less spiteful place, but he can’t let that predict every move he makes. He hasn’t let it yet and he can’t start now.

__________________________________

The diner’s parking lot is shockingly full when Calum walks his bike to a stop. He kicks down stand and straddles the bike before getting his leg around. He’s mindful not put the collar of his leather jacket back down. He didn’t put too much gel in his hair either. Good impressions. That’s what he’s gotta make right now. Though, one look at him immediately gives away his affiliation, but he tries to tone it back down. Calum even threw on one of his scarcely worn button up shirts. When he walks inside, he notices Cookie untying her apron. There’s a man, a little taller, with a neat short cropped cut, and a face just like hers, though he’s a tad lighter in complexion.

She smiles at Calum and he returns the gesture, exhaling as he walks over. He’s not used to having to meet the parents up front. But this isn’t his house, these aren’t his rules. He’ll still play the game though. Calum extends his hand. “How are you, sir?”

Her father shakes his hand, grip firm and eyes sharp. “I’m good, son. How are you?”

“I’m well.”

The quick once up and down is almost too fast to catch, but Calum knows the tactic well. “I don’t judge, son. I don’t. The world’s full of it already. Just treat her right, tonight.”

“Of course, sir. Is there any time I should have her back by?”

“As long as no one’s coming through my door at ungodly hours, I’m not too concerned.”

Cookie sighs, head falling on her neck as the sigh shrinks her shoulder. “He means midnight at the latest. I’ll save ya the time of walking through that maze of a riddle.”

With that, she leads him out of the diner. Calum can feel the eyes on him. Some whistle as they leave. Nothing menacing, all good teasing love. He laughs as Cookie groans in their departure.

Calum doesn’t miss the way his own body is warming though, the jitters almost making his teeth chatter. Her touch is so sure, but gentle against his hand. Cookie pauses at his bike and releases his hand, running her fingers gently over the handlebars.

“So, a couple friends of mine wanna tag along, is that okay? I can shake ‘em if not,” Calum warns.

She nods. “That’s fine.” There’s a moment where she’s gazing up at the skies and Calum’s watching her. “Honestly, I’m just glad to get away from the dinner even if it’s only for a couple hours. I graduate in June but I know where I’m going to wind up. I just need a way not to get stuck.”

Calum pulls out the helmet. “Well, let me unstick you.”

She huffs. “My hair is not going to fit into this.”

“You better make it fit, baby. Because I’m not leaving until it’s on your head.”

She cocks one of her hips out, the black blouse tied at her waist, paired with black pants too. Her red Keds tied perfectly around her feet. “Fine. But someone better have a mirror for me to fix this afterwards.”

“I’ve gotcha, doll.”

She wants to curse the way her heart flutters at the nickname ‘doll’ because there’s no good reason for her to almost melt at the way it curls off Calum’s tongue. But she does. Especially with the tiny shy smile he always pairs it with. It gets her every time and if she could curse him so it didn’t, she would.

He slides onto the bike first and she slips on behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. Her hold is strong, even a little tense when he first takes off. But a few seconds later, after being on the road, she loosens her grip. The wind is great across her face. She’s only been a bike once before. She’s not necessarily the angel most people think her out to be and she enjoys the secondary persona. It gives her a break from her reality, that she will always be bashed because of her skin color. She will always be at a disadvantage, it feels. But it doesn’t means she can’t have her fun along the way.

As the stop at a light, she watches with blurred vision as the red light burns into her retina. Soon it turns orange, and she’s staring out of her bedroom window watching white clothed bodies lighting fire to a cross. All she can think about is how she covers her younger sister’s and brother’s eyes, tries to keep them preoccupied. But they still asked her why them. What did they do wrong? And the answer unfortunate truth is nothing but exists. She doesn’t tell them that, she instead tells them that some people are just mean and don’t understand the harm in their beliefs. She doesn’t have the heart to shatter their worlds. She doesn’t have the heart to use words like racist, and evil. They’re too young still. But they know for sure. They know about it, they just don’t have the words.

“Hey,” Calum says, gently, hands wrapping around hers around his waist.

She blinks and realizes they’re parked. “Sorry, just thinking.” Her arms slip from around him and she pulls the helmet off gently. The bright bulbs on the front of the building let her know it’s the theater. The spaces are a little empty, but there are some cars. Most people have probably opted for the drive in since the weather is starting to finally break. She pushes off the seat. He watches her, quickly wiping at her face. Why the tears now? The worst time possible.

“Hey, whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’. I’m okay.”

“It don’t look like nothin’.”

“I-I’m okay.”

“We can skip the flick,” he offers, gingerly reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal.”

“Your friends would surely be disappointed.”

“They won’t be.”

“I just. I wish I could shake them. I can’t get that image out of my head sometimes. All of those men in my front yard. My sister and brother being scared. It’s not easy.”

He’s at a lost for words. He doesn’t know what’s that like and he probably will never. It’s not to say that he hasn’t gotten his fair share, nor Ashton. Ashton caught a lot of heat taking Cal in, but when everyone you know can keep up in a fight, people tend not to say much. But her family was prominent, and typically non-violent. “I know there’s probably not a lot I can say or do right now,” Calum starts, gently taking her chin between his fingers and tiling her head back. “But whatever you need, let me help.”

He swims in her vision for a moment and Cookie wishes she could just get over it. She wishes she could just take a sponge and wash it from memory. But it’s right there, right behind her eyelids some nights. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she lets the few tears falls, but she nods gently. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he breathes, “of course.” Calum pulls her in for just a moment, letting her compose herself. Cookie wishes she hadn’t, the smell of him now and the hint of nicotine is pressing into the hairs of her nose. She never wants to breathe out.

It takes a moment longer before she nods into his chest and they head inside. Ashton said he’d cover the tickets, if Calum covered a bit more on the groceries. So it works out. Inside, fingers threaded through each others, Calum spots, Ashton, Luke and Michael, leaning against the wall. A circle of Preps are eyeing them but their attention is immediately shifted when she and Calum walk in. Calum holds a little tighter to her hand. He prays they don’t start anything.

As they walks closer to his friends, Calum notices more people are watching them. Not just Preps, but everyone in the room. “Thought we scared you and your Daddy out of this town!” someone shouts.

Her grip tightens in response, but she doesn’t drop her gaze from the three boys in front of her, Calum’s friends. This is what she’s used to, at any march, at any speaking event. This is normal for her. It doesn’t hurt any less. It doesn’t stop making her heart jolt at every insult, but she can hide the flinches, she can hold back her tongue. For a moment.

“You know you don’t belong here!”

She’s waiting for one of them to use the word. She just need the lips to curl into the start of n sound and she can pounce. She’d rather not start a scene here, on the wrong side of town. But god, does she only need one reason, she only needs one of them to set her off. “Either cut the gas, or you’re gonna have a problem,” Calum warns, a single ring adorned digit signaling out the offender.

“Oh, she can’t talk, huh?” Joseph is always one to try and start any fire he can. It was like he almost got off on the humiliation.

“Drop dead,” Cookie hisses. “No one wants anything to do with you. Won’t no one thinking about you for two seconds, so now you gotta make yourself known.”

“Fream speaks!”

God, she wanted not to give in. She wanted to walk away. “I do. But you got a lot to say. So keep running your mouth, half way to a bruisin’ as it is.”

Calum looks back to her. He didn’t expect that from her, but something hits his chest. It’s a strange excitement and the adrenaline before a fight. Part of it definitely disbelief. Not Cookie, he hasn’t pegged her as the type. But maybe he had been more wrong about her than he thought. Maybe all the teasing and flirty wasn’t just her playing games. While Calum would rather not have a fight, he sure as hell wouldn’t leave her to a fight alone. “The lady spoke,” he grins, turning back to Joseph. “Shut it or we dance.”

Joseph, who once was surrounded by his posse, notices that only on a couple of his original boys still stand. No one really wants to get into a fight with Calum. And everyone can see the other three circling in close too. The odds are heavily on their favor and Joseph would definitely be the laugh of the town. “You’re not worth it anyway,” Joseph finally mutters. Though Calum can see the way he’s holding something in the back of his mouth.

Calum pushes her back behind him, just in time too before the spit lands on the floor at her feet. His hands are in fists before he realizes and he surges forward. Grabbing the collar of Joseph’s shirt, Calum lifts him from the ground. He can’t even get the word out before Joseph releases an ‘Oof’ doubling from a blow. Calum looks to his left to see her fist at her side. “Try me again,” she hisses. “Put him down and let him try me again. Just because my dad’s nonviolent, don’t mean I am all the time.”

Calum drops the boy from his grasp. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Ashton, Luke, and Michael who have been keeping to the back, watching, waiting for anyone to step in, finally move in towards them. Luke takes hold of Calum’s bicep. “Let’s go. We can’t afford any heat right now.” Luke’s taking in Cookie and the crowd. It can go south real fast for them.

Calum nods and reaches out, running his fingers from the top of her vein along her wrist to her fingers. Cookie’s hand unfolds and he intertwines their fingers. She takes a step back and while Joseph is still recovering, she spits on his shoes. “Need better aim next time!”

The five of them shuffle out of the theater, quickly, knowing any attendant that happened to see the heated argument could be dialing for the cops. Outside, Calum pushes her closer to Michael. Most people don’t suspect him. He’s good in a fight, but not overtly identifiable. “Ride with Michael.” Folks definitely saw Calum and Cookie walk in together. She can’t be on his bike, not with him. If he gets caught and pushed around by the cops, it’s fine. But if she’s caught with him, that’s bad news.

“Sorry for ruining our date,” she calls out to him.

Calum slips on the helmet, grinning. “You didn’t ruin it, Cookie. You made it a hell of a night. Michael, goose it. Got it? Burn fucking rubber.”

Michael nods with a grin. “You know how to pick ‘em, Cal.”

Cookie slides into the passenger seat of Michael’s car. And true to Calum’s instruction, Michael blares down the backroads. He laughs about halfway through the journey. “Got a solid jab,” he offers.

“Thanks. Dad taught me.”

“Cal boxes. You know that?”

“Heard something like it.”

“Yeah,” he hiccups as they bounce a deep hole in the road. “Maybe he knew deep down you could fight too.”

Soon they pull into the driveway of a decently upkeep house. The outside doesn’t have a lot done to it and she knows that the inside might be a little sparse too. But everyone does what they need to in order to survive. One car is already there. But not too soon after they climb out of the car, she can hear the rumble of Calum’s bike. She pauses near the front steps, one hand on the railing and watches him. The tires kick up dust and rocks as he swerves into the driveway. He continues on around the house, slowly creeping by. Soon the deep rumble ceases and instead she can hear the crunch of feet against the gravel and dirt.

Calum pulls the helmet up as he rounds the house. “No heat, as far as I could tell.” Everyone exhales. He walks up to her, grin on his cheeks, curls perfectly disheveled from the quick tug up from his helmet. “Jets and a mean jab, got it all don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t have. I just hate his guts. I’m sorry.”

With a shake of his head, Calum takes her hand. “You’re fine. He deserved it anyway.” Her hand trembles in his. “C’mon,” he urges, taking her into the house.

The decor isn’t as sparse as she thought it would be, the couch has a couple blankets draped over the back of it with end pillows. The cherry wood dining room table has four chairs that match and a small bowl in the center some fruit sits in it. There’s a big shelf with records on it, some books.

The walls a little bare minus some old photos. “It’s not a lot. But we get by,” Calum whispers.

She shakes her head. “Reminds me of the old house. Even the new one we have isn’t too packed. Half the time, money’s going to the diner. The other half, the time’s going there too. Just never seems worth trying to unearth everything.”

Calum soothes the skin of her hand with his hand. He never considered that, that her life on the outside looked one way. But on the inside it’s way different. It makes sense why she has so many hours at the diner. “What can I do ya for?” he grins.

She laughs. “That’s my line. You can’t go stealing that.”

“Too bad, doll. Looks like I just did. So what can I do ya for?”

“Honestly, at this point a smoke would be nice. But water will do.”

Almost way too sheepishly, Calum reached into his jacket pocket and dangles the pack between his fingers. “I try not to smoke often. It’s not a habit I’m proud of, but if you want one,” he trails off with a shrug.

It’s tempting. It’s very tempting. Her statement was mostly a joke. But she keeps eying it. So, Calum places the helmet on the couch and hands her the packet. He slips out of his jacket, finding the lighter. She knows she shouldn’t give in. She hasn’t had one in a few weeks. Mostly because her dad would kill her. “I’ll go get us some drinks. Then we can step outside.”

“So we’ve met,” Michael starts, cutting through the awkward silence as Calum shuffles into the kitchen. “I’m Michael.” He points to the blonde to his right. “That’s Luke. Watch out for his limbs.” He then motions to a brunette. “That’s Ashton. Calum and him live together here. I live a few houses down and Luke lives like a street over.”

She smiles at them, still playing at the carton top. “Sorry about missing the movie again.”

“You were way more entertainin’,” Luke laughs. “Besides, we hadn’t gotten tickets just yet, so win-win.”

Ashton’s stare freezes her. It’s somewhere teetering on the edge of the disappointment. “Scold me,” she starts. “You won’t be any worse than my father.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned,” Ashton answers truthfully. He’s impressed because he’s only never heard about her, seen her through others eyes. They all call her quiet, reserved, put together. He’s never really laid his own eyes on her. But now, she didn’t really go off the deep end until provoked. He can give her that. She didn’t throw the first punch. Though she made damn sure that she threw the last one though.

Ashton’s concerned because what does this mean for the rest of them. They already have enough of a target on their back. He doesn’t want to make her out to be a villain, but his world’s not easy on her and it won’t be easy on them if they associate with her. “This isn’t against you, it’s just, we’re already so…”

“Alienated. Greasers are low down, dirty, get into fights all the time. You guys are the scary people everyone should run from. And I’m the shit stain on this here great country. We’re both outsiders. I’m just further out of the circle than you. I get it.”

“But you’re sweet, got a little rattle snake in you, but you’re good people,” Ashton counters.He doesn’t want to discredit her by any means.

“I’m never going to have the best of both worlds. So you best decide now what world you want.”

Ashton watches Calum from the kitchen doorway, a beer in one hand and a coke in the other. “You ever think we could actually fit in Ash? Because if so, you’re a dip stick, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. If you thought just because I wasn’t Black, that you’d somehow could still skate into the white agenda, you were wrong. You can’t choose me and then accept her,” Calum counters. “Won’t ever work.:

“We’re outsiders, we live on the outskirts of town. We weren’t eva’ gonna fit in,” Michael says.

“But do we always have to be behind?” Ashton questions.

She places the pack down on the coffee table. “We will always be behind. And until you accept that, you’re never going to make it forward.”

It makes sense. They were always going to be pushed to the outskirts. They could never make it in. The door wouldn’t open for them. Ashton’s known this, but it was easier to be on the outside and still be white. He could still see the door, could still knock on it. She can’t even get a glance at it. “The world’s never gonna be fair to you,” Ashton sighs. “But the least I can do is be fair to you.”

“I hope it will be one day. Today’s just not the day.”

Ashton stands from the kitchen table, “Care for a beer? Coke? Water?”

“Coke’s fine, thanks.”

“You heard the lady, get her a coke,” he grins as Calum. He can be fair to her. The inside wasn’t meant for them anyhow. What would he gain? Status that all relied on following prescribed rules that meant nothing? That was his whole thing. Following who’s rules? Why follow them? What be the reason for it for him to break one and face backlash? It’s pointless that’s what it is.

“Bring that,” Calum urges, nodding to the pack. She grabs it and follows behind Calum to the back of the house. He points out bathrooms and bedroom. She pokes her head into Calum’s. Lots of posters cover the walls of various musicians.

“If I ain’t know better I’d say you might be into music.”

“Just a little,” Calum laughs.

“Too busy boxing now, huh?” She lands a few fake punches to his torso and Calum bows every so slightly at them. Their laughter is soft.

“I’m trying to keep it clean, legal.”

They settle onto the top step of the back porch and Calum sets the Coke near her feet. She hands him the pack. He taps it twice to his palm before pulling out a cigarette.

“Most people run when they know I fight, but not you.”

“Ain’t most people. And you ain’t the only one that can fight.”

He shakes his head, lips wrapped around the butt of the nicotine filled paper. Cookie’s got him there. She watches him flick the lighter and the way the flames lick at the paper. She watches the cut of his jaw, the way his hair falls in different directions around head now. “Shouldn’t grease it back so much,” she mutters, hand reaching up to play in it. She stops herself, asking him silently.

He nods. “Go ahead.” The cloud billows from his nose and mouth as he speaks. She drags her nails over his scalp, letting her fingers graze the soft strands. He holds the cigarette out to her. He grins when she hesitates. “I’m willing to share one. But if you’re afraid of cooties, I understand. I did get the shot though.”

She laughs, slapping his arm and takes the paper between her fingers before inhaling the nicotine. “Earlier,” she starts, passing the burning paper back to Calum, “that red light made me think of the cross in my front yard. I’ve got a brother and sister. Both younger than me. I’m terrified for them. They’re going to have same shitty world that I had. We march, we protest and we die. For what?”

“So the world’s not so shitty for them,” Calum exhales.”Maybe, hopefully.”

“Easier said than done.”

“No one said life was easy. Because if so, they’re a goddamn liar.” Calum holds out the cigarette for her, but she shakes her head, going for the bottle at her feet. “I’m sorry about Ashton. He means well. Just a worrier. Thought I had talked sense into him earlier.”

“I’m not upset.” It’s silent, the crickets sounding from the bushes. Calum thinks about all the hate she sees on a daily. How does she do it? He figures it’s not without trouble. They’re all burdened. No one in life gets through it untouched. Everyone has scars.

Calum’s comforted by the silence between them and before he’s realizing he’s talking. The words are just coming out of his mouth. “My parents kicked me out. I wasn’t always here. I mean, I was always other. I was always a fighter though I never liked it. I was always different. But I wasn’t always labeled different, outside.”

“You get by though.”

Calum nods, letting her take the last hit of the cigarette. “Car shop is good cash. How I got my bike. Tutor helps a little. Nearly dropped out, but Ash footed a lot of the expenses. I had to repeat a year, which ain’t the prettiest thing to admit. It took me a while to find a place to stay, wasn’t going to school all too often.”

“I bet that makes the kids feel better. The ones you tutor.” She figured Calum was older, figured that they had meet in English class by some repeat or calculation but she wasn’t sure.

“It does. They know it’s okay if things take them a bit longer.”

“Thanks. For coming to our side. For helping out. It helps more than you might now.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” There’s another pause. He watches the smoke float from her lips. “Can I see you again? Maybe actually have an actual date?”

“Telling me sharing a cigarette on your back porch isn’t a date?”

“Exactly,” Calum laughs. He hasn’t even touched his beer. He doesn’t really want it. He brought it just in case she didn’t want the fizzy drink. He’s not too upset about it. One of the other boys will take it no doubt.

They sit outside, way after all the nicotine is inhaled. She rests her head onto Calum’s shoulder. “I vote next date is food. Because every time I see you you not eating!”

“I eat I swear to it!”

“Picnic, my place. You’ll have to excuse the anklebiters if they’re around.”

“Next time, your place. I’ll excuse the anklebiters. If they’re around.”

The ride back to her house isn’t long. Feels much shorter this time around. The redlight doesn’t shock her system. The wind on her face is welcomed as it blows back Calum’s scent too. He pulls into the driveway and walks her up to the door.

“Thanks for tonight. Even though it didn’t turn out like we planned.”

Calum shrugs. He enjoys the way it turned out. “Clearly it well enough for me to get a second date.”

“Calum, if I didn’t know better I would say you’re trying to get jacketed.”

He laughs. “I know I want to see you again.” It’s direct and skirts around the going steady tease. Truth be told, he’s not sure about that. But he doesn’t want to completely ruin his chances with her.

The door creaks open a little. “Good night, Calum.”

“Good night, Cookie.” She steps into the house, sending him a small wave. He waves back and waits for the door to close. He had plenty of time, he thinks at his own place to kiss her. Or make some sort of move. But maybe it was better that they just talked, that they spilt guts to each other that they hadn’t let others see just yet.

Calum starts down the porch when the front door creaks open again. He’s not sure what’s wrong but before he can turn around fully to ask, lips are pressed gently to his cheek.

“You missed,” Calum teases. Cookie, still bent over, pushes into his cheek and Calum turns to face her completely. Her lips are soft against his and holy hell--it’s happening. Their shared breath is the slight sweet of her Coke and the bitterness of nicotine.

“Ain’t miss that time,” Cookie teases. Her lips brush against her as she speaks and they linger for what feels like an eternity, lips just centimeters from each other and breathing in the other’s exhales.

“Wasn’t a footballer, but you’re gunning for that jacket,” Calum whispers.

“I think I look good in leather,” she hums, brushing her nose over his.

“Bet you look gorgeous in it.” It leaves him in an exhale. Her chuckle is soft before she straightening back up. She slips into the dark of the house, waving one last time to Calum.

His boots nearly trip him as he heads down to his bike. Calum can still feel teh ghost of her lips on his. Her nails are still pressing into the flesh of his cheek to keep his head straight. Not like with a kiss like that he wouldn’t have followed her anyway she wanted him to go.

He’s gonna get in deep with her; he can feel it. And he doesn’t even care.

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Forgiveness Is Warm

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: character death, MoC!Dean, cursing, blood, ANGST, based on 10x22, hella violent, (THIS IS A PRETTY DARK FIC FOLKS.)

Summary: Dean is slowly losing his hold on the mark, but can he reign it in before anyone else gets hurt?

A/n: I think I’m hardwired to write angst so once again I apologize to all my readers for dragging you through this . . . Again. And it definitely won’t be the last time, full warning. (GIF not mine. Credit to owner.)

It wouldn’t come off.

It wouldn’t fucking come off.

Dean had been scrubbing his hands raw for the last five minutes, desperate to get the blood off, clear it from under his nails and his knuckles and palms, but they still looked like they had been dip dyed in crimson.

Why wouldn’t it just fucking come off?

The scrubbing became more vicious with each passing second, all the anger and hate he had for himself was turning into a roiling boil inside his chest.

He never should have taken the mark. He should have listened to Cain. He could have found another way of getting rid of Abaddon. Maybe chopped her up into pieces and encased her in cement? Locked her in a shipping crate and tossed her into the ocean?

Anything would have been better than this outcome. The mark had turned him into something he didn’t want to be, and it had cost him everything.

When he momentarily looked up from his reddened hands he almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at him. There were still speck of blood on his face, and he had dark bags under his eyes, the rest of his features pale and dull. Even his eyes looked off, like they were empty and cold.

Sam and Cas were probably already tracking him down, but he couldn’t let them catch up, and he definitely couldn’t go back. . . Not after what he had done.

*. *. *. *. *.

Charlie’s death was the straw that broke the camels back. It was simple. Ever since the Styne family stepped onto the Winchesters playing field and butchered the innocent red head, Dean was a tightly wound coil of anger and bloodlust that could not be loosened.

After being temporarily caught, he proceeded to slaughter every Styne within the household before heading back to the bunker to finish the the job. The same level of anger hung over him the entire way.

The Bunker was quiet when he entered through the garage, casually taking about the remaining Stynes as he maneuvered the hallways, which were cluttered with belongings that were no longer resting in their rightful places. Your shirts and journal were thrown about, along with Sams lore books, and as he passed his own room he saw the place completely ransacked.

It no longer looked like home.

And before he knew it, he was emptying the last bullet in his gun into the head of the youngest Styne, his body dropping to the library floor like a sack of bricks.

“Dean, what did you do?”

Your voice came out of nowhere, making Dean turn slowly on his heel, lowering his weapon. You shouldn't be here. You were supposed to be with Cas and Sam.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He spoke slow, his voice calm and stern at the same time.

“What. Did. You. Do?” This time your tone more forceful as you stepped up into the library, your blade gripped tightly at your side.

“I took down a monster. It’s what I do.” He explained, tucking his gun back into his waistband. “And I will continue to do that, until-“ he shrugged.

“Until you become one yourself.” You finished, eyes taking in his blood splattered clothes and eerily relaxed posture.

“You can leave now, y/n.”

Your jaw clenched as you took bold steps forward, stepping over the bodies dividing you, “No. I’m not leaving. I care about you-“

Dean cut you off before you could finish, stalking forward, the mark on his arm fueling his anger tenfold.

“Really? Let me ask you something: if you really cared about me, then why did you screw me over just like Sam and Cas did?” His voice growing ever sharper as he bore down on you, but you stood your ground. You weren’t afraid of him.

Your Dean was still somewhere in there. You just had to find him.

“We were trying to help cure you! We still are!”

“Like hell.”

Your face fell at his words, his gaze on you felt foreign, nothing like what you were used to. “I thought you trusted me.”

“There was a time in which I did. I don’t think that’s the case anymore.” He explained, turning on his heel once more, clearly moving to leave. You halted his movements when you brought a hand down on his shoulder, gripping him tightly. His faded green eyes looking down at your hand before moving to your face. “The price to get this thing off my arm is going to be paid in blood, you know that. I would rather pass on that option.”

Your grip tightened even more, but Dean didn’t flinch, “Maybe you could fight the mark, maybe for centuries like Cain did, but you cannot fight it forever. And when you finally turn- and you will, Sam and I will be long dead. Cas will have to watch you murder the world. If there’s even a chance of saving you, I will not let you walk out of this room.”

“Oh you think you have a choice?”

“I think the mark is changing you.”

“You’re insane.”

Your eyes blazed as you stood toe to toe with him, feeling your own anger bubbling through your veins, mixing with the sadness that was ever lingering. “Am I? Because the Dean Winchester I know and love would never have murdered that child.”

Dean glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the fresh corpse behind him, “Yeah, well I always thought that Dean was kind of a dick.” He shrugged, trying to push past you once more, but you held him back yet again.

“I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.”

And then you did the last thing you ever expected yourself to do. Your brought your hand back quickly, and then listened to the loud crack of the back of your palm connecting with his cheek.

You didn’t see the next thing coming either. Once again you were completely caught off guard.

Because all of a sudden Deans hand wrapped around your raised wrist, quickly twisting it and letting the snap of bone echo through the room. The movement making you dip lower, right into the path of Deans fist, there was another sicken crack as it met your nose. You stumbled back, quickly wiping the blood running from your nostril before advancing again.

You got in two good punches before he gained the upper ground, grabbing you by the collar and slamming you against the nearest surface. You let out a yell as you threw your head back, successfully connecting it with his chin and making his hold on you loosen. He certainly wasn’t holding back with force. Not. At. All.

And then his arms wrapped around you, and he was throwing you full force across the mostly cleared floor of the library, your body slamming into the pile of books behind you.

“Now stay out of my way.” Dean warned, giving you one last glare before stalking towards the bunker steps.

“That’s not gonna happen.”

Slowly you rose to your feet, using the back of your hand to wipe away the blood seeping out of your newly busted lip. You weren’t gonna let him leave that easily.

No way.

Dean was so deeply under the spell of the mark that he wasn’t processing what he had done, or what he was doing because he halted, spun, stalked back towards you, and threw his fist forward again, your head whipping back from the immense force that was his knuckles. His hand found your throat, and like a python constricting it’s prey, he began to squeeze. You clawed desperately at his wrists, silently begging for him to let go.

He only released when your eyes began to roll back into your skull, making you fall to the floor as you tried sucking in the much needed air you had just been lacking.

But Dean wasn’t finished.

Because he grabbed your shoulders, pinning your weakened and battered body to the ground, “I told you to stay out of my way.”

Beneath him, your body felt like it was in a cage, your back digging into the wooden floors, trapping you between his heaving body and the ground.

It was worse than you thought. So much worse. And as you lay there, weakly struggling against your hold, your mind fed you one terrifying thought. You might not be walking out of this bunker.

As Dean reached over across the floor, fingers wrapping around the handle of your blade, he kept his eyes trained on you. They never shifted, never wavered. They were cold and callous, and nothing like the bright jade ones you had looked into so many times before.

But he was still in there. You felt it in your gut.

You let out a shaky breath when you felt the blade break through the fabric of your shirt, the tip pressed lightly into your chest.

And for the first time that night, Dean Winchester hesitated. His eyes locking into your s like he was trying to search for something. For what, you didn’t know.

His fingers flexed around the blade again before he pushed down a bit harder, earning a strangled cry from you. The mark was winning.

You accepted your fate right then and there as you looked up at him. You hoped beyond anything that Cas and Sam could find a way to save him.

Your muscles aches as you raised a shaky hand to his cheek, pressing your palm gently against his face, the scruff beneath slightly tickling your skin. Dean stilled, jaw clenching as he looked down at you. Your lip was busted open, and blood was still running freely from your right nostril, your face scattered with slowly forming bruises.

You blinked through tear filled eyes, your thumb slightly dancing across the soft skin of his cheek as you tried to search for any trace of your Dean. The Dean you loved. He was still in there. He had to be. This was the marks doing, not his.

“It’s okay, Dean. I forgive you.”

You need him to know that. Dean was still in there, and when Sam and Cas save him, you needed him to know that you didn’t blame him for this. It was the mark using him as a puppet.

There was a band of intense band of three second silence, and then Dean pulled back and sank the blade into your chest, burying it up to the hilt.

You gave one last shuddered breath, and your hand dropped from his face.

And then Dean Winchester was well a truly alone.

It took another five seconds for the marks grip on him to loosen, and then almost like a blindfold being ripped from his eyes, Dean was back. His eyes brows drew together, not fully processing what his eyes were seeing, and then he was scrambling back, pulling his hand away from the handle of the blade as if it were fire.

“No,no,no,no,no-“ Deans voice cracking as he scrambled to his knees, hands hovering over the hole in your chest, the blood steadily flowing from it and making a growing stain of crimson. The blade was still sheathed firmly in your chest. His own hands covered in the sticky, red substance.

This was just a nightmare. Just another mark endured nightmare, all he had to do was wake up. He would wake up in his own bed, in the quiet of the bunker, where you were safe and alive. . . And breathing.

Dean ran his hands through his hair, slightly pulling on it in hopes of yanking himself back into reality, “just wake up, just wake up. Y/ns fine. She’s just down the hall, peacefully asleep. She’s fine, all you gotta do is wake up.” He whispered, eyes squeezing shut as he prayed for a way out.

But when he opened them again, you were still there, your body still and a deep red flower blooming out across your shirt.

You were still lifeless in front of him, and you would be staying that way, because this wasn’t in his head. This was his worst nightmare playing out in reality, and nothing could change that.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The horrific memory played in a constant loop inside his head, trapping Dean in those moments. Ever since he left the bunker, what he had done to you under the marks influence had been coming back in chunks, just quick flashes in his head until he finally had every piece laid out.

He had lost his control over the mark.

You had been trying to help him.

He attacked you.

He-

Dean closed his eyes again, continuing to viciously scrub at his hands. It was at the point in which it was beginning to hurt, but he didn’t care. He deserved it. He deserved every ounce of pain inflicted upon him after what he had done to you.

The image of your battered face caused him to tense, his jaw clenching as he quickly shut off the water and gripped the sides of the sink.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, head hanging low as he felt his heart slam into his rib cage. It almost felt like the damn thing was trying to escape.

It was probably for the best if it did, because then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

It’s okay, Dean. I forgive you.

I forgive you.

And then Dean Winchester cracked.

Or more like shattered. He was like a heavily cracked pane of glass, all you had to do was apply the tiniest bit of pressure and the whole thing breaks into a million pieces.

His knees buckled and before he could register it he was sliding down the wall next to the sink, head falling into his hands as sobs racked his body, seemly coming out of nowhere.

He had loved you. He had loved you more than he thought humanly possible to love another person. . . And he had ended your life.

And yet for some reason, you had forgiven him. You knew he was going to push that blade in, and yet, you forgave him.

You forgave him.

With his knees tucked firmly against him, Dean allowed himself to break down, right there on the bathroom floor of the dingy motel room.

And there he stayed.

The End.

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youralternantpersonality · 3 years

Text

End My Dear Friend

Warning: n/a

A/n: Here’s the end of it. I had fun writing this. It was in my brain for the longest, but I just didn’t want to make more than 5 chapters for my stories. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Sam (19), Paul (16), and Quil (15) gave up their ability to shift when they would have respectively been around 25-27 since Emily, Rachel, and Clair would age. They have kids—Emily: 3, Rachel: 2, and Clair: pregnant (Not really mentioned, but just clarification/to give an idea).

Comment if you’d like to be tagged

Tag: @pillowjj @summeerrr

***

A year later

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.” I turn around and smile.

“Vanity!” I run up to her and hug her. I was worried that she wouldn’t come. Having her here makes everything complete. We hear a knock on the door, and it’s Felix just to congratulate me. I give my thanks, and Vanity helps me finish up the final touches and helps me put my dress on.

It’s an Augusta Jones dress named Terri. It was something I saw and wanted ever since I was in 10th grade. The second I saw it, my heart skipped a beat, and I wanted to cry (I didn’t, I just wanted to). Vanity fluffed out the bottom of my dress and made sure it flattered me for the pictures they were about to take.

“You look so beautiful Y/n/n. If I was human, I would cry, love.” She tells me, wiping an invisible tear from her eyes. I laugh, and Alice comes in to make sure I am ready. If it wasn’t obvious, Alice volunteered/decided to be the wedding coordinator for our wedding. She rushes us to go downstairs. Because of my situation, I decided against having bridesmaids/brides-man. Instead, Jared volunteered to walk me down the aisle as a surprise.

I walk up to him and link my arm with his. My nerves start getting to me as the music changes to a soft violin musical playing.

“You ready, Blue?” I smile up at my brother of over 10 years and nod.

“More than you know, Magenta.” He squeezed my arm and proceeded to walk me down. Up ahead, I see Embry, standing there in all his glory. I made him wear a white suit to match my dress. I remember Alice threatened him if he got a single drop of even sweat on it, she will have him by the throat and shake him like a chicken.

Walking up to the man I love, I could see a tear lightly stream down his face as he tried to keep his composure. I told him before, if he doesn’t cry, I’m going to re-walk down this damn isle. He knew I was serious too. Emmett, who became our ordained minister due to a loss bet he and Embry had, patted his shoulder in support. I was scared at first, but the nerves vanished as soon as Emmett opened his mouth.

“You may be seated.” He started, “Hello. And welcome, to this beautiful wedding. A Call wedding—bringing two different beings to one. Two different species, if you will, to one. Before we dive into these shenanigans, I would like to remind everyone what happens when two worlds collide,” I can see Charlie putting his head in his hand and shaking it. Emmett proceeded for 5 minutes, making sexual innuendos but also giving blessings. Two things that should not be in the same sentence.

The reception was beautiful. The pack demolished every last bit of food there was. Emmett brought out poker cards and had Charlie, him, Jared, Embry, Paul, and Billy playing poker at my wedding. If I didn’t think that Embry and I could have more weddings in our lifetime together, and if he didn’t look like the most handsome when he was laughing, I would be pissed right now.

But Alice was.

Twenty years later

It had been twenty years since I had seen the Cullen’s. For every birthday Renesmee had, Embry, Charlie, and I would take a trip to visit them. Ren desperately wanted to have him in her life, and so, Bella and Edward introduced them to each other, so long as there was a gag order on Charlie. Not to ask any questions and just enjoy the moment.

I will say that it was a stressful time when Ren was born. Bella did survive, and as soon as she was clear, hell broke loose. The Volturi tried to kill us, but luckily Alice and Jasper had their own trick up their sleeves. If I’m honest, it was hard seeing Vanity on the other side. But when it was decided that the Cullen’s broke no law, they left. Before leaving, like the spontaneous and child-like we are, we ran to each other and hugged before leaving. I knew we’d see each other again, but it just might be a while before we do.

A few days ago, Carlisle informed me that they will be heading back for a visit. Ren wanted to have her official seventeenth birthday where she was born. Something about wanting to feel the nostalgia of it all. Here we are, Jake, Embry, Emmett, Jared, and Paul moving furniture around. Emily, Leah, Clair, Kim, Rachel, and I are fixing a buffet in the kitchen. Sam, Seth, and Orion (Leah’s imprint—who’s also a shifter) went out to get some supplies for her party. Alice and Esme are drawing up plans to renovate the house afterward. Rosalie and Jasper decided they wanted to be friendly and cordial…so she worked on her car in the garage away from everyone, and Jasper went hunting. At least they’re trying.

“OK! Bella said they should be arriving soon! And they’re bringing Ren’s friend Nadya…who’s fully human and doesn’t know shit about our world. So, let's try to be normal…Emmett.” Alice says, looking at the big guy in the middle of the room with a cheeky smile.

“What!? I am completely professional.” We all looked at him and rolled our eyes. Rosalie came back from the garage and stood next to Emmett.

“Well, look who graced us with her presence,” Paul says, sarcastically. Rachel waddles out of the kitchen and scolds him. “What!?” There was crying coming from upstairs, and Emily runs up to her desperate child. Sam, Seth, and Orion pull up with the supplies that Alice specifically wanted and allowed the pixie to do as she pleased while everyone just watched. By the time she was done, Bella, Ren, Edward, and Nadya—with Sue, Billy, and Charlie behind them—pulled up. We all hid and waited until they enter the living room.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY REN!!!” to say to her, and Nadya was shocked was an understatement. They screamed and held onto each other as if they were in a horror film…I mean, aren’t they, though? As Ren introduced and hugged/welcomed everyone here, two shapeshifters caught Nadya and Ren’s eyes.

“Oh, hell no,” Edward says, looking straight at Jake. Leah and Embry's bust out laughing at what just happened to not only Jake but also Seth.

“Edward, you know we can't control it,” Jake says. Jared in the background making bets with Quil and Embry on who’s going to win.

“I say Edward.” – Jared

“No shit, he’s a dad. Of course, he is.” – Quil

“My bets on Jake. He’ll attempt to reason with him.” – Embry

“Naw, Jake tried to take Bella. This might be anger he never knew he had.” Emmett joined in, betting $20. They had a pool of $60 at this point. Then I hear,

“Join…no fight…”

“I'm going to say no fight because Ren has power over both of them.” I join in, placing a $20 while smiling. Embry and Jared look at me, and before they can say anything, “NO TAKE BACKS!” Needless to say, I won the money, and the party continued. Edward chaperoned Jake and Ren the whole night. One wrong thought from Jake and his life was done. Treaty or no treaty. Seth, on the other hand, was flirting and having a ball with Nadya. I wonder how that’s going to end up.

After the party ended and everything was cleaned up, Nadya and Ren went to bed while Alice and Esme took over in renovating parts of the house that Nadya hasn’t seen, so she isn’t suspicious. Embry and I headed back to our house just on the outskirts of Forks and La Push. I didn’t get any special treatment just because I was Embry’s mate. But if I’m honest, I’m glad I wasn’t on the Reservation. At the time, my family was still there. The only time I was allowed was to visit my grandparent's grave.

Nana died of another heart attack, and Papa died soon afterward from the loss of Nana. That year I had gone missing. Aunt Lydia and dad had a falling out. Mom and dad split after two years, multiple counseling sessions, and marriage and therapy appointments. Nothing seemed to work between the two of them. I felt terrible. It felt as if that was my fault. Embry and Jared made sure that it wasn’t. It was hard to believe them, but eventually, I knew I had to move forward one way or another.

I tried to send anonymous letters to them; it helped some, but not enough. Although, a few years ago, dad and aunt Lydia finally rekindled their relationship, and Aunt Lydia reached out to mom. It was painful for all three of them, but they finally came to a neutral ground and grieved like they should’ve all those years ago. Aunt Lydia stayed in the area and got married to her second husband. Mom moved back to Texas and eventually started dating but not for a long while. And Dad moved to Seattle, where he met an old high school sweetheart of his.

I now lay in bed with my husband on Isle Esme, a gift from Carlisle and Esme for our 20th wedding anniversary. Do you know how hard it is to not explain to the natives on the island that all the food I got wasn’t for me, but for my husband? Do you also know how irritating, yet flattering, it was to see women attempt to flirt with Embry? He was awkward and continuously looked for my help. Other times, he would pass by them and blankly ignore them.

“You know, babe. Emmett gave us this gift that I think we should try out. Then go into town for a while.” I perk up at that and look at my husband.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” I said with excitement.

“A butterfly…” he shows and explains to me what it does. We test run it, and boy, does it make you want to grab the edge of a table and break it. Ironically, that’s precisely what I did. The bastard had it on high too, and I nearly lost my shit. Needless to say, we didn’t go into town until the next morning, and he still made me keep it on.

Later that night, while Embry was asleep, I glanced at him and just felt a rush of happiness submerge deep from within. This, this right here is the life I’ve been searching for. This is the life that I will be forever grateful for.

Part 1: Hello My Dear Friend

Part 2: Goodbye My Dear Friend

Part 3: Welcome My Dear Friend

Part 4: Why My Dear Friend

Part 5: End My Dear Friend

Request Open! (Go to the description bar on my page to put one in)

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spookysquishsworld · 4 years

Text

The Start

Author Note: Hi guys! Im Morph. I wanted to try my hand in some writing. I didn't know where to start with JJ and saw someone wanted Pop Punk JJ. Pop Punk used to be my life and felt that this was actually meant to be. -- This seems shorter then what I wanted, but I didnt know where to stop or start or any of it.

The start

"I swear to fucking god Chris, I'll turn this fucking car aroundShut the fuck up" beach boy mccafferty

WARNINGS: Drug use, moving, mosh pit, circle pit, blood

---

There is enough room for some people to comfortably stay over while having space to move around. Nothing spectacular but good enough to call a new home.

"WE are going to a show tonight!" Charlie says trying to pick out outfits for herself and for you. She tells you to go shower after moving in this heat you need to be fresh for the concert.

---

Pope looks up from his book and offers you his hand. "pleased to meet you" "Same here" You shake the boys hand and chuckle at him trying to read in the dark.

When you get there you have to buy tickets at the front booth. Kie bought the boys their tickets and you bought Charlie's for all of her help.

"Hey, Y/N, right?" JJ asks after drinking almost half of the water bottle at once. "Thank you very much for the water"

"It was the least I could do, you saved me from being boot mush." You chuckled at yourself, couldn't you at-least try to sound cooler.

"Hey, did that happen in there?" You point to your lip as he goes to swipe his own.

"Lets head back" JJ nods to the entrance doors, holding one for you.

What else could come with this move? This might have been the best choice you have ever made in your entire life.

Tags: @spicedhunnie

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj poppunk #morphwrites #obxstuff #pope obx #kie obx #obx van

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petitprincess1 · 4 years

Text

Good Evening Ch12 (Escalating)

AO3 Link Summary: Angelo gets a surprise visit at night by someone...who is not at all happy to see him. How rude... Words: 2,479 Warning: Gun violence, blood, and murder I'm so freaking sorry for the wait. I have no excuse other than starting up a new story called My Roommate's a Demonic Deer and laziness. I'm so, so sorry. Hope it's worth the wait. ~~~ Also, during that week, Angelo had been bed-ridden the entire time, going in and out of consciousness, due to the immense pain that he was in. Luckily, he was stable enough to do the more private tasks like using the bathroom and bathing himself, so that was a bit of relief for him. He really needed those moments because he was hardly ever alone.

If he wasn’t being checked up on by Baxter, then Cherri was worried about his well being and talking to him about her terrible job. Sir Pentious would also make sure to keep him up to speed about all the news going on in the world by reading the newspaper...fucking old man. Plus, his sister came by with Fat Nuggets, his little piggy, to cheer him up. Granted, his father and Arackniss also came by...so...yeah. Nothing better than you father and brother still questioning your fucking “decision” of “choosing homosexuality”. Angelo wished Vox just killed him...not really, but he was mad.

Also, Charlie and, surprisingly, Vaggie came over once or twice to just talk to Angelo about anything and just to check up on him. It felt both odd and nice that they were all just talking like nothing changed. As if the mob child wasn’t lying in bed with his arm and leg in a cast, a few broken ribs, bruised up body, busted gums and lip, and getting sick of eating soup.

Angelo knew that everyone, excluding his brother and father, were just looking after him, but it was just a bit much. Although, it did make him feel happy that people did care for him this much...but give him some fucking space...please. If anything, Angelo was lowkey wondering why Alastor had yet to show up. Seemed like he didn’t want to leave his side before, what gives?

Now, the mob-child was watching some Baywatch-like TV show and it was boring as all hell. He groaned as he tried to grab the remote, just for sharp pain to go up his side as he attempted to twist his body, causing his eyes to tear up. He flopped back onto the mattress lightly, sighed, and called out as best as he could, “Pennnnnnn! PENNNNNNNNN!! …...PeEeeEEEeeeeEeEeENNNNnNNN!!!!”

Pentious practically kicked the door open and screeched, “Blimey! Shut the fuck up, you bloody plonker!”

Angelo grinned, “Man, ya really went full British~”

Pentious rolled his eyes and gave a huff as he walked into the room, questioning, “What the hell do you want?”

The mob child whimpered like a sad puppy and reached out pathetically to the remote on the nightstand. Pen raised an eyebrow at him, still clearly pissed at Angie calling out to him like that, and walked over to the nightstand. He grabbed the remote...and then tossed it lightly at Angelo’s head.

The boy flinched at the impact, even if it was barely enough to even cause pain. He pouted up at Pen, “Hey, what the hell!? I’m injured ‘ere!”

The older man sat down at the edge of the bed and huffed, “Clearly, you’re not too injured to scream at the top of your lungs. ….How are you feeling?”

Angelo couldn’t help but calm down at hearing his tone soften up a bit. He shifted as much as he could, wincing at a sharp pinch at his side, and replied, “Well...I’m doin’ as good as I can be, especially bein’ stuck in bed and, you know, bein’ broken...and all.”

Sir Pentious’ soft look immediately turned into a look of concern and possible pity. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say to try to alleviate the situation, and asked, “Uh…perhaps I can do something to help you? You do look really knackered. Do you want anything? Anything at all?”

Angelo hummed, “Oh, yeah, can ya get me a fairy godmother to heal up my wounds, a hit list of everyone that works for Vox, and a M3? Thanks, sweetie~”

“....Uuuuuuhhhhh,” was Pen’s well-detailed and poetic response. Luckily, Cherri and a short latin man, who gave a warm smile to Pen before looking at Angelo worriedly, came walking in. Not necessarily to “save” him, since Cherri immediately punched Pen’s arm, causing him to let a manly yelp, while her face had a light pinkish red as she glared at him, shouting, “What the hell is wrong with you! Don’t yell at Angelo!”

Pentious glowered, “What’s wrong with me!? I’m not the one punching people randomly, you nutter!”

The short man pushed back his naturally, already slicked back, black hair with silver streak and went over to Angelo quickly. He practically shouted, just to assuage the tension, “So, uh, Anthony, how are you?”

The two looked over at Angelo and the mob child huffed, “I already answered this! When can I just get-augh!”

The three jumped at seeing Anthony grip at his ribs tightly and take a deep shuddering breath as his eyes teared up a bit, shutting his eyes tightly. The man mumbled, “I guess that answers my question.”

He fished some pills out from his pocket and was about to help him take the pills, even about to tell Pen to get some water. However, Angelo just snatched the capsules out of his hand and took them dry. He quickly snapped, “I can take my own pills, dammit!”

Pentious was going to yell again, but the doctor reassured, pushing up his glasses, “It’s alright, querido. He’s been stuck in bed for a whole week.” The long-haired man scoffed, “That doesn’t justify him being rude to you, Baxter. You should be more appreciative, Anthony!”

Angelo was about to yell to stop calling him Anthony, but Cherri clapped her hands and gave a soft sigh, “Alright, things are startin’ to escalate, so why don’t ya two maybe, uh, get the fuck out?”

Pen was going to argue more, but Baxter ended up calmly bringing his boyfriend out of the middle of things by taking his hand. He just didn’t wish to deal with a bunch of shouting. Well...more shouting. Pen eventually just huffed and decided to just go out the door, while carrying the bespectacled man in his arms. It caused a lovely rosy color to hit Baxter’s cheeks.

Cherri gagged at the two and then stared at Angelo, sighing, “So, uh, I guess ya ain’t doin’ that well, huh?”

Angelo shook his head and sat up slowly, wincing at the sharp pains wracking his body. The Australian girl wanted to help, but she knew that would just annoy Angie. He grunted, “I...I know that everyone is jus’ tryin’ ta help, but...god, it makes me feel useless. Not only that, but I bet Vox might send people ta finish the job, especially since I ain’t dead.”

“Did you escape or somethin’?”

“No...he let me go, but ya never just attack a mob boss and get out alive,” Angelo informed, causing him to let out a shuddering breath.

Cherri noticed it getting somber, causing her to change the subject and bring up, “Oh, uh, hey! I heard Alastor’s radio station. He talked about some woman’s husband missing and said that the hotel is doing well. I think it helps that Charlie’s dad is visiting more often, something about a helicopter and...uh...”

She trailed off when she noticed Angelo still looking incredibly distraught. She thought that she may have seen a glimmer of intrigue after mentioning Alastor’s name, but that was all. He barely seemed to pay attention to the status of the hotel. Cherri sighed as she reached into her short’s pocket and handed a folded up note to Angelo. She replied, “I found this letter outside your door way earlier. I think it was like 3 am, I heard some noise...uh...yeah. I’ll just leave it here…”

She placed it on the nightstand near his bed and then told him, “We all want ya to get better, Angie, and maybe even Vox to go through hell. Just...don’t do anything dumb, okay?”

Cherri then got up off of the bed and started walking towards the door, giving one glance over her shoulder at Angelo before leaving out of the room. Angelo sighed as he grabbed the letter, feeling awful for going silent on Cherri. He unfolded the paper and skimmed over the words.

When the mob-child got to the end of the letter, he felt both shocked, questionable, and worried. The letter was written by Alastor, who somehow snuck into Pen’s house, and...he was coming over tonight. ~~~ Angelo was slightly turning in bed, waiting for Alastor to come to the house. Granted, he wasn’t too excited to see what he was bringing back as a meal, but he was sure that he wouldn’t serve humans again. ...Well, he hoped so. It wasn’t like it was too much of a stretch considering what he saw in that gumbo. It still made him feel ill to this day. Plus, it didn’t help since Al seemed very excited.

Angelo just sighed as he placed his back on the pillow and was about to go to sleep, but stopped when he heard footsteps. He lifted his head up a little and groaned, “Hey, Al, can ya give me a hint as ta what yer makin’? I just don-”

He stopped when he saw a shadow in the hall of a woman that definitely didn’t look like Cherri’s. Before he could question, he heard the sound of a gun being cocked and then a revolver being aimed into the room. He saw a woman coming into view, but didn’t pay attention to anything but the shaky gun. Angie started, “Wh-Whoa! Hey, d-don’t do any-”

The woman whisper-shouted, “Shut up, just...shut up! You...You killed him!”

Angelo looked very confused and she sniffled, cheeks and nose a bright red, “Jonathan...he w-worked...a-at your ex-boss’ wareh-house. ...H-He was standing guard la-last week.”

Angelo barely had any memory of who all worked under Val and Vox, but it could have been a possibility. No one knows about the warehouse or that it’s Val’s. He gulped, “H-Hey, I’ve been st-stuck in bed an-”

“I told you-!” She took a deep breath as her finger went towards the trigger, making Angelo feel his heart jump to his throat. He looked around the place as he sat up in bed quite quickly, probably making it harder to believe that he was injured in the first place.

The woman went on, stepping closer and aiming the gun at his head, “Th-They told m-me...they f-found remains i-in the fu-furnace. Vox said...th-they don’t kn-now if i-it’s his, but...he has-sn’t come back. O-Our kids...a-are so sc-scared...they don’t...th-they just w-want...him…” she trailed off as she placed a hand to her mouth to try to quiet her sobbing, turning away and lowering the revolver.

Angelo was trying to slowly slide out of bed to try and get some kind of weapon. Unfortunately, the gentle thud of his toes hitting the wooden floor. The woman immediately shot up and aimed the gun back at his head. Angie gulped and tried to calm her again, “Listen...I promise ya...I did not kill yer husband, alright? I-I’ve been stuck here. I mean...ya can clearly see that Vox did a number on me...right…?”

He got a bit distracted when he saw Cherri appear behind the woman, opened her eyes widely, and then quickly retreated to possibly find a weapon. Angelo continued, wanting to stall, “So....what’s your n-”

“I’m not telling you my goddamn-”

“Whoa-ho-ho! I’ve clearly come in a bad time!”

The woman quickly turned around and aimed the gun at the person behind her. Angelo oddly felt relieved at seeing Alastor standing there with his perma-smile, but also had no idea where this was going to go. Al just calmly walked inside and stepped around the lady, humming a little tune. She whimpered, “H-How did you g-get in here!? Wh-Where did you come fr-from!? I...I heard y-your voice...the radio broadcast, right?”

Alastor nodded, walking in-between her and Angelo, “Yes...you’re Traci? The one that lost her husband, I suppose? ...Why are you going to shoot, Anthony?” Traci glared and sniffled, wiping her eyes, “Because he’s the one that killed him!”

Al raised an eyebrow and hummed, “And you know that...how?”

The lady looked around for a few seconds, messing with her hair and the scarf around her neck. She muttered, “I-I-I just kn-now about him g-getting hurt. Cl-Clearly, he ratted o-out to his batshit f-family! His sist-ter is just as f-fucking stupid a-as he is, so-”

“Now, now, no need to go throwing around insults. You’re already aiming a gun at a questionably innocent mad, don’t have to be even more callous,” Alastor chuckled, as if he was just having a normal conversation. It once again reminded Angelo that this man was not sound of mind. Cherri came back with a wooden field hockey stick and was slowly creeping on the lady. Traci started, “But he-”

Al walked closer to her, being calm and collected, “You...don’t know what he did. You’re just accusing him of something. I’m sure that the police are doing whatever they can, but...Traci...no need to get yourself in trouble. Your kids need you, correct? You do have kids, right?”

Traci was almost near sobbing again, causing Cherri to halt in her movements out of guilt, and she nodded. He walked closer, feeling the revolver press to his chest, and calmly asked, “Please, Traci, give the gun. ...We won’t press charges.”

She sniffled and whimpered, trembling where she stood. She let out a loud sob as she handed the gun to Alastor, who took the gun calmly. Angelo let out a breath and noticed that Pen and Baxter joined Cherri. The three looked calmer considering that everything had become quieter.

Alastor backed away from Traci, causing her to just break down and hugged herself. He looked down at the revolver and let out a long hum. Al then gave out quite a cute guilty as he informed, “Traci, don’t you know that when you threaten with a gun, you have to take the safety off! Silly!”

“Wha-” that was all that Traci said as she slowly lifted her head and a bullet went right through her head, causing a bit of blood splatter. Unfortunately, it got mostly onto Cherri and the wall, making the punk scream out in terror and Pen almost throw up. Her scream covered up the sound of Traci’s body falling onto the floor.

Alastor muttered, “I thought it would be messier than that...hmm…” He tossed the gun onto the bed and smiled at Angelo, who just muttered, “Nice shot...I guess…”

“I made grilled venison!”

“Oh...neat.”

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

Note

apricity for fjorclay? xxxxxx

boop boop trans cad is pregonate

Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3

apricity: (n.) the warmth of the sun in the winter

—-

Caduceus didn’t realise where he was going, where his feet were taking him, until he was nearly there. When he realised, he gave a resigned sigh and kept going.

Some things didn’t change. Even when you thought they had.

The clearing was tucked away so neatly behind some overgrown hawthorn bushes that you’d never know it was there unless you pushed through them. Cad wasn’t fool enough to think that there was a single corner of the Blooming Grove that his family didn’t know about but this was always the easiest place to pretend he had privacy.

However, he did remember squirming between these bushes to be a lot easier when he was a little one. And when he wasn’t eight months pregnant.

It was still doable, however, with a whispered plea to the bushes themselves to just give him a break. He must have sounded suitably exhausted because they parted immediately, heavy berries swaying with the movement, the frost that encased them catching the pale sunlight. Cad thanked them sincerely and stepped once again into his childhood bolt hole.

A twisted ash tree, ancient and wearing fungus and polypores the way an aging dame would wear fabulous jewels, had been bowed by time and wind and winters like this one, it’s branches spreading out to form a slightly domed roof. The trunk was sunken slightly, giving a perfect place to set your back and sit beneath it and everything was always close and slightly warmer than it was beyond. The way the shadows fell, like fingers, it made Cad feel like he was in the grasp of someone, small and supported and safe. He felt hidden.

Easing himself down against the tree was more difficult now he was large and unwieldy, in far less control of his body than he’d ever been. But he managed. He sighed and let his eyes close, deflating a little, putting a hand on his stomach the way he’d been doing ever since he was made aware of the three little lives taking shape inside it.

He needed to stop getting worked up like that. It wasn’t good for the babies.

Cad hadn’t meant to get frustrated, he never did. But it was getting harder and harder to bite down on thoughts he never even would have entertained back when he was younger and the Grove was the only home he knew and ever expected to know. Back then, he’d just turned them into a hard little knot in the back of his mind and covered them with other thoughts, telling himself sternly that he had no right to entertain them. They were his parents. They were his family.

They were always right and he wasn’t.

But then maybe if he hadn’t spent his childhood and adolescence thinking that way, he would have spent less hours sitting in this little clearing wondering why he was angry and feeling guilty about it.

Caduceus exhaled and leaned back, grimacing slightly at an internal kick aimed directly at something vital inside him, “Hey, hey…”

“They’re still acting up, huh?”

Caduceus looked up, not surprised or startled, though he did blush. Fjord’s entrance through the hawthorns wasn’t as smooth and he ended up with curls of cracked ice on his shoulders and a few twigs in his hair, though he seemed far more focused on Caduceus.

“It’s a little cold to be sitting outside,” Fjord approached gently, like his husband might bolt again, “Don’t you think?”

“I don’t get cold easy,” Cad shrugged, trying not to sound petulant, like Fjord wasn’t right to be treating him with kid gloves right now, “I’m covered in fur and my stomach’s a space heater.”

Fjord laughed at that, though it wasn’t meant to be a joke. He came up and gestured to the spot next to Cad, “Can I sit there?”

Cad swallowed, touched that Fjord would ask permission, nodding hard. He realised then how much he wanted him near. As soon as he was seated, the frost covered grass crunching underneath him, Cad leaned into his shoulder. He was wearing the battered old coat Cad liked to see him in, the one he’d given him way back when they’d started dating, worried his fur-less boyfriend would get too cold in the winter.

“So…I was out back chopping logs for your mother but it sounds like you and your brother had a bit of a bust up?” Fjord began levelly.

Cad felt his cheeks heat up more, “He just…he just made some comment.”

“Ah,” Fjord made a non committal sound, waiting to see if his husband would elaborate.

“Just something about the city not being a good place to raise children,” Cad muttered, “He wasn’t…I mean, it’s just his opinion but…”

Fjord nodded slowly, pulling in closer, both because he could tell Caduceus needed some comfort and because he was growing cold.

“They’re still acting like my moving out was some reckless teenage thing,” he eventually got out, voice shrinking, “Like they’re still waiting for me to realise it was a mistake and come home with my tail between my legs. They don’t understand it’s my life now.”

Fjord nodded, reaching over to put a hand on his knee, “They do seem like they’re trying to be very…patient.”

“Exactly!” relief seemed to flood Cad’s features and suddenly the words were pouring out, “It’s just the same as when I brought Charlie home with us. They still see me as a little kid, like they don’t have to take anything I do seriously because it’s ‘oh, Cad will come to his senses soon and come back and run the Grove while we go do exactly what we’re telling him he shouldn’t be doing’…and it isn’t fair! It’s not fair to you or Charlie or the babies or…or me!”

Cad winced as those last words echoed through the clearing, caught in the ash’s fingers and bounced back at him. His ears fell and he cringed, like he was expecting someone to come and punish him immediately for saying what he’d said.

But Fjord only looked at him with a gentle sadness, hand still stroking his knee, “Cad, you’re allowed to feel what you feel. There isn’t anything wrong with being frustrated with the people you’re closest to. I mean, hell, you get annoyed with me sometimes, right? And you still love me.”

Cad blushed at that, “But you’re perfect…”

Fjord chuckled, leaning in and kissing his cheek. His lips were cold.

“I’m not. No one is, not even your family. But they adore you. Love’s funny, it sometimes makes you say things and think things that, in the end, aren’t best for everyone. But part of loving people is being able to say what you’re feeling and work with them to make everyone happy again.”

Cad bit his lip, nodding slowly, hands coming to cradle his belly like a comfort blanket, “I know…and I love them too. I really do. That’s why I wanted to have my babies here.”

“And we’ll all love them just as much too,” Fjord shrugs, “And we’ll make mistakes too and work through them and get better because of them. That’s how family works.”

Cad exhaled, resting back against the tree, looking up through the branches. The sunlight caught in the snow resting in the forks and boughs and turning the leaves to glass, split and shone in all directions.

“When did you get so insightful?” he murmured.

Fjord laughed, “When you sent me to therapy.”

“Oh yes. I remember. That makes sense.”

Fjord grinned, leaning in and kissing him again. Cad turned to meet it this time, catching his mouth, ears twitching happily. It lasted a good few heartbeats, the only sound around them the song of the birds who braved the snow.

Eventually, Cad drew back and sighed, “Okay…best go back to the house, I have some apologies to make. And a conversation to have, I suppose.”

“Alright,” Fjord nodded, “Let me know if you’re getting worked up though. Stressful situations can trigger labour.”

“I might be okay with that,” Cad winced as he rose up and all his new weight surged downwards again, concentrating in his already unhappy ankles and tailbone, “Joking.” Fjord had been spending the last eight months fretting constantly and he wasn’t eager to set him off.

As adorable as it was.

“And you are perfect,” he added, catching Fjord’s hand and threading their fingers together, “Just so you know.”

#trans caduceus #fjorclay #teahaw #modern au? I guess #can be read as either really #kind of a sequel to my fic Ginger #ftm pregnancy

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mortemersgf · 4 years

Text

dangerous waters

distant shores: oliver x f!mc and edward mortemer x f!mc (jade hearst)

summary: jade puts her relationship with oliver at risk when she rescues edward and henry.

warnings: violence (threats)

tags: @crazynutella @princess-geek @bitchloveskcbaseball

‼️ PLEASE SIGN THIS PETITION DEMANDING JUSTICE FOR GEORGE FLOYD‼️ Justice for George Floyd

Jade moans in pain, curling herself into a ball. Her stomach aches so much it hurts to breathe. She was knocked out cold when the soldiers tossed her in the room. Her arms and legs are tied together with thick ropes, and if that isn’t enough, her eyes and mouth are secured with bandanas. Deprived of sight and speech, Jade focuses on her hearing.

It’s eerily quiet where she is. There’s no muffled voices or shuffling footsteps outside her door. Jade can’t tell if that’s a good sign or not. She could either be guarded heavily by skilled soldiers, who don’t move or breathe or speak, or someone has left her in an abandoned part of the ship where no one ever drops by. Either way, she’s not liking it. It smells of damp wood and sawdust where she’s at, making her nose wrinkle with distaste. Jade suddenly misses the smell of Henry’s cooking and Charlie’s rum.

With a deep breath, she grunts and pushes herself up into a sitting position. She begins to scoot along the wooden floorboards in her bindings, making sure to stick close to the wall so she can feel for a door. Her stomach twinges with pain as she moves. Every couple of seconds, she has to stop to take a breath. Everything is going to be fine. Charlie is going to come soon. The crew is more than capable of rescuing us, she tells herself.

Jade pauses and tugs at her mouth restraint using her shoulder and cheek but to no avail. With a frustrated sigh, she relaxes against the ship’s wall and inhales deeply. I’ve got to find Edward. For all I know, they’ve let him bleed to death already.

Just when she’s about to scoot again, she hears the sound of boots clicking against wood. It seems to grow louder and louder by the second.

“Nrrngg! Mrmm!” Jade murmurs. She erratically stomps her boots, hoping whoever is out there is kind enough to pop in and relieve her of her restraints. The ropes are starting to dig into her skin, but as as soon as the thought arises, it vanishes. She sighs. Please. They are not going to spare me a glance. They’ll probably add more ropes. So she slumps against the wall again, counting down the days until Charlie and the rest of the crew bust in and sweep her, Henry, and Edward back onto the Revenge.

The clicking stops. There’s the sound of wood creaking and a door swinging open. A small gust of wind follows after.

“Nhhmg?” Jade straightens up against the wall. Her hands ball up into fists, alert.

“Ah, here you are,” someone with a familiar British accent says. “I was looking all over for you.”

Oliver!

She catches the faint smell pinewood as his arms brush against her cheeks, working away to undo her bindings.

“Nmhhph—ha… Oliver!” Finally free of restraints, Jade takes a couple of deep breaths and grabs at her red wrists. Her jaw feels cramped and her head aches with dull throbs.

The pain feels familiar. It reminds her vaguely of how she feels after her classmates plummet her with accidental punches and slaps to the face in stage-fighting class. Though usually she’d be tucked in bed under her soft covers with an ice pack pressed to her cheek by now.

She winces and looks up at Oliver.

He’s in his uniform, his sword sitting by his hip. Seeing the blade evokes the memory of him thrusting it into Edward’s shoulder, prying out a cry of pain from the captain. It makes Jade rigid with fury, but she blinks, forcing herself to shove the recollection into the depths of her mind.

Oliver gives her a lopsided smile as he untie the ropes that bind her legs together. The man before her seems so different now. She doesn't know if she can ever see him the same again, and she doesn’t know if she wants to.

He’s acting as if nothing happened, and that angers Jade. The same hands that are untying me are also the ones that hurt Edward. Do not forget that. She feels the onset of hot tears pooling in her eyes and lets out a frustrated huff. Tentatively, in a small voice, she asks, “Where is he?”

Oliver stiffens for a slight moment before saying, “One would usually say ‘thank you’ when someone does them a favor, but because it’s you… I’ll make an exception.”

He drops the thick ropes, the smile on his face fading away when he sees the cold look on Jade’s face. She has to physically stop herself from bursting into laughter at what he said.

“You want me to thank you for releasing me? Should I also thank you for stabbing my captain? Keeping me captive in this room for who knows how long? Letting your men kick and punch me in the stomach so hard it hurts to breathe? Because in that case, thank you. Thank you very much, Oli—no, Lieutenant.” Jade spits.

She pours all the hurt, all the betrayal she feels into the words, hoping Oliver realizes that what he did is unforgivable. She stands, ignoring the way his face crumples into an apologetic look.

Oliver takes a step closer, his fingers brushing against her jawline. With a small sigh, he pulls away and drops his hand. “Jade, I… I apologize deeply for everything. I wasn’t aware they treated you so awfully. I will reprimand them all. Harshly”—he taps the hilt of his sword—“With a sword, if you’d like.”

“It’s not going to change anything, so forget it.” Jade mutters.

She wants to thank him and kick him at the same time, so she does neither, choosing to stretch out her limbs instead. It’s been hours, maybe a day, since she was thrown into the little, dark room. She can’t remember. Time is hard to keep track of when the only thing she can think of is Edward’s well being.

Jade surveys her surroundings, trying to find the best way out. Her hand drifts down to her side where her sword and pistol should be. And of course, they got confiscated. She mutters a curse under her breath.

Oliver watches her move. He takes note of the way her eyes flit to the door every now and then and discreetly steps in front of her, blocking her from the exit. He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair, looking slightly on edge.

“Why did you lie to me?” he asks, his voice low.

Jade shifts her gaze to him. She stares at him for a long moment before shaking her head and saying, “We’re not going to do this right now, Oliver.”

“I told you I was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy that night, but you didn’t mention a thing about you and Captain Mortemer being friends. Or on the same crew, for that matter.”

“Because I’m loyal to him! Edward—”

“Edward? I see the two of you are friendlier than I expected.” The jealousy in his voice is thick.

Jade heaves a deep sigh, not wanting to continue the conversation. There’s no point.

Oliver, however, starts to pace around, nodding to himself. Finally, he stops and looks at her, a sharp look in his eye. “He’s a pirate.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jade scowls. “Why do you care? You didn’t even acknowledge me when I first appeared on your ship.”

“I had to capture Edward.”

“By stabbing him when he’s distracted because you know you can’t beat him?”

A hurt look flashes across Oliver’s face before he conceals it with a humorless laugh. “It was a dishonorable move, but had there been any other way, I would’ve taken it. I don’t understand why—”

“You don’t need to,” Jade snaps, cutting him off.

An uncomfortable silence settles between them. The sunlight that floods through the window behind her highlights the dust that’s floating around. It captures her attention. The specks land on the ground, her shoes, and the sacks of potatoes in the corner of the room. It’s everywhere. Jade focuses on everything else instead of the man standing in front of her.

“I’m guessing you’re not going to tell me where Edward is,” she says, breaking the quiet.

Oliver refuses to meet Jade’s gaze, looking pointedly away. “No, I’m following orders.”

“Can you at least tell me what you’re planning to do with him?”

He doesn’t answer.

“You can tell me,” Jade coaxes, taking a step towards him. “I’m only one person. I can’t take down dozens of armed men on my own.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. You seem like you’re capable of many things.” Oliver speaks coolly, a cold glint in his eyes. The Oliver from the tavern, the one laughing and shielding her from the navy officers, feels like a figment of her imagination now.

Jade’s hands involuntarily curl up into fists. This is it. I can’t take him down, but I know—I hope he’s not going to hurt me.

He adjusts his hat, turning away to leave.

“Taking down the Royal Navy is going to be one of them,” Jade blurts, “so step aside because I don’t want to hurt you.”

Oliver stops in his tracks. He turns around, jaw set. But his voice is soft as he speaks. There’s a hint of remorse in his gaze. “Nor I, Jade.”

Jade opens her mouth to retort but stops short when she notices shadows passing behind her. She spins around upon hearing the clanging of metal and gruff voices speaking quickly, tiptoeing a bit in order to look out the window. What she sees makes her stomach churn with dread.

Henry is getting shoved along by two soldiers. They force him to his knees next to a bloodied Edward, who’s leaned against a pole and shackled with chains.

“What’s going on? What’s happening to them?” Jade demands. She faces Oliver, eyes wide.

“Admiral’s orders,” he says, “Captain Mortemer and the other man are to be publicly executed in London. They’re taking the boat home.”

“Are you here to escort me, then? Am I joining them?”

“No. No, you’re… staying here.”

“Staying here,” Jade repeats. She narrows her eyes. “How did that come to be?”

Oliver swallows, visibly unsettled. He casts a look at the ground before opening his mouth to explain. “It’s selfish of me, but I couldn’t bear letting you die for something you had no part in, so I—”

“Stop.” Jade cuts him off before he can say anything else. She leans over, clutching her aching stomach. She hasn’t eaten, but she thinks she’s going to hurl. This can’t be happening. “Can I…” Her voice cracks. She digs her teeth into her lower lip and takes a deep breath.

“Can I at least say goodbye?” she asks, her voice steadier.

Without waiting for an answer, she pushes her hair back and brushes past Oliver. Jade flings the door open, sprinting down the hallway onto the main deck. An absurd plan forms in her head as she screams for the crewmen to stop. Oliver trails after her. He doesn’t hear it, but she mumbles, “Sorry.”

Outraged soldiers cry out with irritation as Jade squeezes past them, shoving away crewmen who’re handling Edward too roughly. One of them grabs her by the arm, but Oliver halts him with a glare.

“Miss Hearst,” Edward breathes. He moves his chained arms, longing to run his hands through her hair and caress her cheek. Jade holds his face in her hands gently, pressing her forehead against his. Their chests rise up and down with relieved breaths seeing each other alive.

“I’m here, Edward. Everything’s going to be okay,” Jade whispers. “I… I have a plan. Just trust me, okay? I’m not going to let them take you away.” She pushes his matted hair back, her touch light and careful. Blood and dirt soak his tattered clothes but even then, he looks handsome.

Please, please, please, please… Jade knows exactly what she’s praying for. A miracle. She wishes all of their pistols are empty of bullets. She wishes their blades are dull. She wishes a mutiny would erupt right now. She wishes Oliver would call the whole thing off. She wishes she has more time.

Edward shakes his head, his face twisting into one of pain and worry. He grunts as a sharp pain shoots through his shoulder. With gritted teeth, he mutters, “Don’t do it. Don’t risk your life for me.”

“I told you back at Tiburon that I’d be very upset if something happened to you, so I’m doing this. I can’t let you die.” Jade mumbles.

Her thumbs are growing numb with fear as she rubs slow circles into Edward’s skin. She brushes her nose against his, angling her head until her lips fit his. She tastes copper from his blood as she kisses him. With a shaky sigh, she pulls away just far enough to take in the pained expression on his face. She presses another kiss to his lips, harder this time. Edward groans, leaning forward so their chests are flush against each other.

“This is not how I imagined our first kiss to happen,” Jade says, breathless.

“Aye, me neither…” Edward chuckles bitterly.

Oliver clears his throat. He stands there, stiff as a log, as he watches the two. When Jade looks at him, all she sees is a stony faced lieutenant who looks like he’s about to lose his patience any moment. She decides then, that the Oliver from the tavern was indeed a figment of her imagination. It’s easier this way.

“It’s time,” he says.

Jade nods, pulling away from Edward with a sniff. She glances at Henry. “Are you okay?”

“Aye, lass. They bandaged Captain’s wound but shackled him up like he’s a thief. Buncha scurvy dogs.” he says. Henry looks up at one of the navy officers and spits at him, earning a repulsed yelp from the officer.

Jade rises, giving Oliver a pleading look. He tentatively lays a hand on her shoulder, saying, “I’m sorry it has to end this way.”

“Oliver,” Jade says, burying herself in his chest. Her hands skim down his sides. “I’m so sorry.”

She unsheathes his sword, swinging it around until it’s pressing against his neck. Her grip on the hilt is so tight her knuckles are white, and her nails dig into her palm. Nevertheless, she stands tall and keeps her other hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.

Oliver’s crewmen dart forward, but Jade takes a couple of steps back, pulling the lieutenant tight against her body. “Take another step and your esteemed lieutenant is gonna get hurt. Very. Badly.”

They stop in their tracks and look to Oliver for instructions. His breaths are shallow, and he speaks slowly, “You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Release Edward and Henry, and I promise you I won’t.” Jade cocks her head at the officers who were about to load the them onto the boat, saying, “You heard me.”

They make quick work of freeing the two men of their restraints before scrambling away. Jade lets out a small sigh as she watches Henry prepare to launch the boat.

Edward grimaces, touching his wound. “Drop the sword, Miss Hearst.”

She drops her hand to her side but keeps her hand wrapped around the handle.

A navy officer sprints forward with a yell but Oliver growls, “Stand down.”

He spins around, snarling, “But Lieutenant—”

“I said. Stand. Down.” Oliver’s voice shakes as the last two words leave his lips. Something along the lines of rage and helplessness fill his eyes as he watches Edward wrap Jade into a tight embrace.

“‘Tis going to be alright…” Edward murmurs into her hair.

Jade swallows, solace filling her body from head to toe. She indulges in the hug for another moment before facing Oliver. “When you realize the Admiral is nothing but a sorry excuse for a human being,” she says, stepping onto the boat, “find me. I’ll buy you all the drinks you want and apologize to you again.”

Oliver touches his neck gingerly. The look strung on his hardened face is icy enough to send shivers down her spine.

She flashes an apologetic look at him, not that it’s any use. “Until then… I hope we don’t run into each other again.”

#choices stories you play #choices #playchoices #edward mortemer #oliver #choices edward #choices oliver #edward x mc #oliver x mc #choices distant shores #distant shores #choices ds #ds mc #edward #edward mortemer fic #oliver fic #distant shores fic #oliver cochrane

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ty-talks-comics · 5 years

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Best of DC: Week of November 20th, 2019

Best of this Week: The Question: The Deaths of Vic Sage #1 - Jeff Lemire, Denys Cowan, Bill Sienkiewicz, Chris Sotomayor and Willie Schubert

The Question is one of the best Objectivist heroes.

By extension, that also includes Rorschach since he’s a pastiche of good old Vic Sage himself and it’s easy to see why people gravitate towards them so much. The idea of Objectivism is… iffy to say the least, but being rational, utilizing one's free will and choosing to act in one’s own self interest can be seen as good qualities, especially in the ways that Vic and Rorschach operate. They have good, unwavering moral compasses and do their best to persuade others to their reality.

But their strengths are also their greatest weaknesses.

When Steve Ditko created The Question back in the 60s, he was all into Ayn Rand’s philosophy and that carried over heavily into Vic Sage’s characterization which saw him use almost any means necessary to keep Hub City’s chaos at bay, even going so far as to let criminals live or die on their own merits if Sage left them in precarious situations (Once leaving a man in a sewer drain and calling the cops to either find him or his body.). He was not a good person, but he was what the city needed to survive, much like Rorschach who chose to die rather than live in Ozymandias’ world built on a lie.

This book continues to build off of that characterization while mixing in elements from Dennis O’Neil and Denys Cowan’s 1980s run with the character and brings in his cast of characters and modernizes Hub City’s issues, hopefully to the delight of those wanting to see a return of everyone’s favorite conspiracy theorist/detective/agent of justice. Honestly, it’s a damn good job.

The book begins with The Question savagely breaking up a prostitution ring operating out of the city. He smashes faces into walls, elbows a big guy in the face and when he runs out of people to hit, he turns to the Councilman of Hub City who just so happens to be one of the patrons of the seedy motel. In fear, the Councilman pleads with The Question to not kill him and he responds by pulling out a phone and recording as much as he can, he then elbows the Councilman in the head and steals his ring, hoping that it might help him with other cases. One of the prostitutes thanks The Question for his help, but he rebuffs her and essentially says that she has no future, but the innocent little girl does.

In just one scene we learn everything we need to know about this iteration of Vic Sage; while he’s not a murderer, it is implied that he may have killed before, but he also knows that getting evidence and ruining someone's life with their evil deed is just as effective as a bullet. Though he saved the lives of the prostitute and the child with her, he insults her by calling her a whore, but insists that the little girl be given to the soon to arrive police. It’s another Randian idea that he doesn’t feel sorry for those that have “ruined” their lives in his eyes and he even notes this when he speaks about how Hub City itself is rotten and dying.

Soon after the bust, Vic Sage appears on his news channel and grills Myra Fermin, a character from the O’Neil and Cowan run, on the activities of her brother - incumbent Mayor Wesley Fermin. This is a bit of a change from the O’Neil run as Wesley was Myra’s husband in that series, but Lemire seems to be doing this in an effort to showcase some kind of family loyalty between the two. Sage accuses Wesley of being the man behind Hub City’s wave of crime, linking him to video evidence from an “anonymous source” of the Councilman in the brothel and this catches Myra off guard.

He then continues by saying that the Councilman’s arrest wasn’t mentioned in the police report, obviously showing that they’re corrupt as all hell and when the cameras are cut off, she lambasts him for ambushing her with his accusations and he says that she lacks spine and that the longer she chooses to ignore things, the more complicit she becomes. When the family lawyer comes to take her away from Sage’s “slanderous accusations” and threatens a lawsuit. Vic asks Myra what happened to her that she has to hide behind a lawyer and she replies by saying she grew up, labeling Vic’s objectivism as childish.

In some ways it’s easy to agree with her that the world isn’t necessarily black and white, but at the same time, it’s because of that that Vic’s able to operate in the way that he does. Of course, this doesn’t necessarily mean that either of them are right as Hub City is still suffering and neither of their actions seem to have changed much in that regard. It’s a sad reality that only Vic is able to see since it’s so plain in his face, but when his only solutions are to beat people up and occasionally have evidence that can easily be dismissed by bought off judges, it’s clear that cynicism would win out in the end.

Denys Cowan really does remind me of why the early Question series was so memorable as his style his only improved from the old days. His signature style of hatch shading, Sienkiewicz’s inks and Sotomayor’s colors really set the noir tone of the story. Though it takes place in the modern day, it looks like a 90s book set back in the 50s or 60s and I love that about this. Cowan manages to pull so much emotion out of a character whose most distinct feature is the fact that his mask has none. Vic Sage is angry, he’s tired of this shit and has been for a little while.

Sotomayor does an amazing job contrasting Sage’s double identities with The Question wearing his normal dark blue suit and orange undershirt and Vic Sage wearing a bright brown suit. This symbolizes the dual natures of the man himself, with one operating in the dark and other in the light. This is brought up when Vic goes to speak to his former Chemistry teacher, Tot. Tot is one of the few people that knows Vic is The Question and as they discuss Hub City’s need for Vic Sage more than The Question right now.

Cowan’s art is absolutely beautiful in these scenes. As I will continually state, everything feels very noir-inspired, grimy and dak. Chris Sotomayor is able to beautifully use all of his colors to illustrate the gravity of the situation and show how easily Vic is able to move between his two personas. Using the compound that affixes the featureless mask to his face, a puff of smoke is created and that allows for Sotomayor to transition the blue into brown and vice versa through the scene. It’s amazing to look at when combined with Sienkiewicz dark inks. What’s even better is that the smoke almost forms a question mark in some thematic fun.

Vic says that The Question can do things that Vic Sage can’t and it’s debatable as to whether or not that’s always going to be a good thing. Throughout this scene they also discuss the ring that Vic took from the Councilman and how he seems to have some sort of odd memory or attraction to the symbol on it. While we’re left in the dark initially, I have some speculation as to what it could possibly be and how it may tie in to another incarnation of The Question or if it’s just something completely new and interesting. Sage is convinced that Fermin is involved with it somehow and the conspiracy begins as he notes that Fermin’s lawyer had a similar ring.

When Vic gets back to his office, he starts obsessively drawing the symbol almost from memory and then he questions how he can Google search it...then he does just that, commenting on how the internet has taken the fun out of detective work. It’s a funny crack, especially as he finds information that he absolutely needed and starts building a board for every piece he has, focusing on an old society that used to call Hub City home.

One of the best bits of the book have to be The Questions inner monologue throughout each page. He details, moment by moment, his actions and the actions of two other occurrences at the same time. It feels very Ditko-esque with just a little bit of Rorschach omnipresence thrown in there for good measure, though Sage mentions how he was actually oblivious to the other two events. Likely meaning that he’s writing a journal of the important things shortly after everything’s gone down.

As he enters the former home of the Hub City Elder Society, Myra accidentally walks in on her brother in the middle of putting the screws to the Councilman and in another part of the city a white police officer shoots an unarmed black man. We don’t get to see much more of the other events as the book then mostly spirals into a nightmare for Vic.

Cowan’s art takes a dark turn as The Question walks through the dark tunnel, discovering the symbol on the wall and starting to see horrific visions. Eventually, he stumbles upon the bodies of the Elder Society and a dark hole in the middle of the cave. Cowan and Sienkiewicz turn this into a horror show as the skeletons are strewn across the cave and The Questions visibly hit with fear, wondering if he should let his identity slip away and let the darkness tell him his real name.

Sienkiewicz earns his money through his dark inks in these pages and the few panels he’s given to illustrate nightmares on the level that he did with The New Mutants. The lines are scratchy, dark, sometimes incomprehensible and I absolutely loved them. At one point we get a close up on The Question’s blank face as done by Coan and the following panel is one of those nightmares - a jagged, green face begging “Charlie Victor Szasz” for help. The panel that follows sees The Question jolt back, his body language being the only thing that betrays his blank face as we can clearly see how afraid he is.

He runs out of the tunnel monologuing about how fear pushes one away from the truth and how he only knew fear, especially after having found a blank face mask similar to his own in the cave, only… it was far older than he. Tot calls him soon after and tells him that he’s been trying to reach him for three hours, much to Vic’s surprise. The city is in chaos after the shooting death of David Fuller, the black man mentioned earlier, and there are riots in the streets. Vic’s talk show would have been airing during the time The Question was in the tunnel and the City NEEDED his commentary, but whatever’s going on with the Elder Society and the mask demanded his attention more.

It’s astounding just how bad Hub City was able to get in a few short hours as Cowan portrays the riot as deafening and violent with Vic standing on one side of the street with no violence and the other side being a madhouse with car windows being smashed, bricks being thrown and molotovs flying in the background. At the same time, Myra wasn’t supposed to see what her brother was doing and unfortunately, she picked the wrong time to attain a moral high ground to things. Wesley has her detained in the room to decide which side she’s on, especially knowing that she’s turned a blind eye to his activities in the past.

Vic goes to visit his friend Richard Dragon, the man who taught him how to fight. While he drives, he listens to Wesley Fermin’s statement on the shooting and Fermin tries to deflect any blame from the Officer in question even though there is clear video evidence, he calls it “supposed video evidence.” He comments on the Officer’s history on the HCPD and says it’s too early to lay blame on anyone, claiming that the officer had just cause to “defend” himself. The riots only get more heated.

Vic and Dragon’s prior history is acknowledged, even Vic’s time as a man of Zen is brought up before we learn that he dismissed the “new-age bullshit” in favor of just hitting people. Dragon pours him a cup of tea and Vic tries to seek answers about things he’s seeing, calling them more than visions - memories maybe. Vic notes that all of this has an occult “mumbo-jumbo” feel to it and says he doesn’t believe in superstitious nonsense to which Dragon replies that he must feel the same way about metempsychosis. Before Sage is able to question him about what that means, he feels the effects of whatever drug Dragon put in his drink and he’s sent into a colorful rainbow of a dreamscape, waking up in the past without his face.

I love the fact that Denys Cowan returned to a character that he really helped popularize back when he was first being showcased at DC Comics and Bill Sienkiewicz does an amazing job with the inks in this issue, really helping set the grimy tone. Chris Sotomayor knocked it out of the park with his coloring to give this book life. Of course, the book wouldn’t have been nearly as good if not for Willie Schubert’s expert lettering as well.

This book was an amazingly fun and dark read that really returned The Question back to… at least his 80s roots while still acknowledging the characters past and potentially some of the unexplored parts of his New 52 self. Jeff Lemire does a good job of reintroducing Vic Sage as a nightly news host as well as his supporting cast from Tot to Myra and Richard Dragon. He’s still a good detective and conspiracy theorist, only this time, he’s going to have to go to places that he normally wouldn’t.

As it tends to happen, I’m sure that Book Two will be the absolute best issue of the series and will give us some insight over the many times The Question has lived or died and that’s a mystery that I’m sure Vic Sage would love to solve and find a rational answer for. I honestly also hope that we get some clarity on the other reboots and retcons that he’s endured over time as that seems to be one of the main themes of the book. Vic Sage isn’t enough, so the Question is the other half, but if the Question is no one, then who is he?

#the question #vic sage #charles victor szasz #dc comics #dc black label #jeff lemire #denys cowan #bill sienkiewicz #chris sotomayor #comics #objectivism #steve ditko

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queenlists · 5 years

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one-night-stand

A/N: Hey all! This involves Charlie Bradbury. There is a little smut in this one. I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for reading! ✌

Post date: 11/20/2019

Her kiss was sweeter than sugar itself.

Her fiery red hair smelled like the most delicious strawberries, just intoxicating me.

Her hands roamed my body gently, not leaving a single spot untouched.

I've been wanting her all night and I'll finally have her.

The way she undressed me with her eyes.

Her quirky pickup lines got me just where she wanted me.

Sprawled out on the bed with her on top completely nude, entangled in her sweet embrace.

Our hands eventually roamed to the warmest, wettest places.

Our tongues licking at each other's forbidden center, crying out for more.

The way she gasped and twisted was satisfaction all on it's own.

I took as many mental pictures as my brain would let.

Basking in her and all of her glory, ending the long night on the highest of notes.

A night I'd like to remember for ages.

------

"Where were you last night?" Sam cocked an eyebrow at me as I did a walk of shame into the musty hotel room. My hair in an obvious mess, makeup smeared across my face, and a smile spread across my face. Dean spit out his beer, coughing and choking "God (Y/n)! Who was he?" "SHE was this gorgeous redhead! I didn't even get her name, but she was something" I beamed at the shocked faces of the two Winchester brothers before retreating to the bathroom to wash away the mess of the previous night.

The hot water accepted me gracefully.

Closing my eyes, letting the hot water shower down on my face.

Remembering how she felt around me. Remembering how she tasted. Remembering how warm she was. I moaned out at the pleasurable thought. Quickly, pouting and kicking myself for not even getting her number or at least her name.

"(Y/n)! We have someone to meet in like an hour. She knows about the case and is willing to help us out! Wash off that sex and let's go!" Dean roared on the other side of the door. I rolled my eyes, quickly washing up and getting ready.

---------

"Change of plans we're meeting up at her house." Sam put his phone away and leaned back into the leather passenger seat. Baby roared as Dean pressed down on the accelerator. I watched as the trees went by, flashes of the previous night came to mind as an odd familiarly set in. "This place seems familiar. Have we ever been to this town?" I yawn out, stretching. "Nope, not that I remember." Sam shrugs, shaking his head. "That sex must've gone straight to your head." Dean laughed out loud. I rolled my eyes "You're just jealous that I was the one that got laid and not you, old man!" I hissed at Dean. "Hey! I'm not old!" Dean sternly waved his finger at me, causing Sam to laugh along with me. This place seemed so familiar and I couldn't quite put a finger on it.

-----

Sam knocked on the door as Dean and I stood behind him. This place was familiar. I know I've been here before. I had to have been here before.

The door almost immediately swings open "Hey!" That voice. That voice was familiar. My eyes widened as I saw her. Her. My girl. The girl from last night. The girl I hadn't stopped thinking about since I stumbled out of her house in the wee hours of the night to eventually fall asleep at a nearby motel. She visibly gulped and shifted uncomfortably, her eyes glued to mine. I guess the tension was all too familiar for the eldest Winchester brother because he busted into a laughing fit, turning red in the face and wheezing out. Sam stood there taking in all that was unfolding in front of him, confused by it all, but slowly piecing together the pieces. "You and (Y/n)? Really? You're the gorgeous redhead, Charlie?!" Dean managed to spit out in between his breathless laughs. "This is totally awkward." Charlie laughed out awkwardly "Uhm, do come in? Make this slightly less awkward." She stepped out of the way, allowing us in. Avoiding any more eye contact with her, I looked at my feet as I made my way not looking up even after I heard the click of her door closing.

We did our best to make this meeting only about the case. Of course, there were tense exchanges and eye glances, but overall I was feeling more comfortable and the embarrassment seemed to be gone for the most part. "Do you think you'd be able to follow through? I mean, I know it's a lot and we don't like to wrap people into this side of the world. We would completely understand if this is too much to ask for." Sam sincerely expressed his concern. Charlie shrugged and giggled nervously "I'm already in it; I know too much. The least I can do is help. I'm in!" She beamed as she spoke. Sam and Dean were grateful for her help in this tough case; Charlie was super intelligent and had first hand access to the building which meant this case would be wrapped up soon!

"Well I think that's all. I'll text you in advance before this whole thing goes down. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call." Sam smiled at her. Charlie nodded, smiling before opening the door for us to leave. As I made my way out the door, Charlie gently grabbed my hand "You don't have to go." Charlie whispered in my ear. I bit my lip and sucked in my breath, stepping back inside. Dean screamed out in a mix of shock and excitement. I rolled my eyes at his immaturity. Charlie seemed to be amused by Dean's reaction and decided to play with his emotions a little by pulling me to her, kissing me gently. Out of habit, I tangle my hands into her hair deepening the kiss and closing my eyes. This time, she tasted so much sweeter. I was addicted to her taste and needed more. I pushed her against the door, completely forgetting about Dean. Charlie broke the kiss "Dude, go away!" She motioned at me "I'm trying to get laid again." I felt my cheeks heat up at her remark. The way she licked her lips at me like she was ready to devour me again like last night.

Dean looked completely dumbfounded before straightening up, trying to make himself look better cocking an eyebrow and mischievously smirking "You know..I don't mind a show every now and then!" He bit his lip, looking at us up and down. "Dude, come on now!" Sam scoffed, shaking his head and making his way to Baby. Dean stood there raising his eyebrows with a huge smile. Excitement glistened in his eyes as he stared at us waiting for an answer. "Absolutely not!" I gasped, shaking my head at him. "Please" Dean pleaded, pouting out his bottom lip a little. Charlie pulled me further into the house before shutting the door on a very upset Dean "See you later, bitches!"

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xxsovereignsarayaxx · 4 years

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Supernatural - Road to Revenge Chapter 3

Authors Note: Everything is coming together nicely! I’m really proud of what this is turning into. I can’t thank everyone enough for the likes and re-blogs you guys are awesome! Word Count: 2576 Warnings: None.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

“So Lila...is it?” Dean asked sarcastically, bashing his hand on the metal table as he walked into the room. With the table jarring with the impact of Dean’s hand Nia’s head shot up groaning her eyelashes fluttering as her eyes adjusted to the light in the room. “You’re still with this asshole? She asked me with a grumble.

“You really want to be left in here?” I asked bluntly as Dean walked around the room and positioned himself so he was leaning against the two-way mirror. “No…” Nia replied, rolling her eyes, avoiding to look at me. “What happened?” I asked her.

“Got busted for pick-pocketing.” She replied matching my blunt tone. “You really expect me to believe that? You called me here Ni, you said that there was something that wasn’t right. We’re here to help you.”

My phone started to ring, checking the caller ID it was Sam. Excusing myself and leaving Dean to try and speak with Nia I exited the interview room and accepted the call.

“Hey, how’s Nia?” “We’re not sure she isn’t being very forthcoming, but I can tell she's scared and holding back. I’m just hoping she will open up…”

“I’m sure that Nia will open up once she realises you're really here to help her.”

“Yeah...Me too. How’s the other thing?”

“Rowena is still looking, Charlie and Cas are helping.”

I looked up from the phone and looked through the small window in the door frame, seeing Nia just sitting still, I could hear some muffled words from Dean. Dropping my head I took a deep breath.

“I’ve got to go, like it or not my sister needs our help. I need to be there for her. Let me know if you get a break through.”

“I will do Nik.”

And with that the call ended, putting my phone back into my pocket I smoothed out my jacket and headed back inside the room. Resuming my seat sitting across from Nia she shifts in the uncomfortable seat. “Ni what happened?” I asked her softly, trying to reach out to her.

“For the last time nothing happened! If you're not here to bail me out of here then the pair of you can just get lost!” She snapped bringing her head down to the table. Pushing the chair back so it made a noise I got up, straightened my jacket once more and headed for the door.

“We can’t help you if you don’t speak up.” Dean said gruffly.

“Nikki must still care about you, otherwise she wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be here. Don’t take her kindness for granted because next time... You might not get so lucky. We’re both here to help you.”

“Nicole must care? Ha! Because you got mixed up with him and his delusional brother, you’re the reason I’m in here! My mom and dad should have left you in that foster home to rot.”

“I get that you’re angry that mom and dad died, I do, but your choices led you here Nia but I’m not going to air my dirty laundry here in a police station or in front of Dean.” I replied sternly, turning to look at her.

“No you don’t get to call them that, you are an outsider. Always were and always will be.”

Nia turned away not looking at either of us.

“If you change your mind you call me.” I told her and walked out of the room with Dean following behind.

“What was all that about? Bringing up your mom and dad like that?” Dean asked with a huff.

“I’ll explain later…”

The pair of us walked out of the police station and got back in the impala. “So what next?” I asked, slumping into the leather seat. Letting out a groan. “We head to the gallery to see what we can find there.” Dean replied.

We arrived at the gallery shortly after 2PM walking up the steps, seeing the mess from the robbery still being cleaned up by the members of staff at the gallery. “Hello, this part of the gallery is closed I’m afraid.” A staff member said.

“I’m Agent Perry, this is my partner. We were wondering if we could have a look around, ask a few questions?” Dean asked, showing his badge following suit. I showed my badge as well.

“Of course.”

While Dean focused on asking some questions I made my way over to where the painting was kept before the robbery. I took a deep breath in and I could still smell the trace of sulphur - So it was a demon after all. There wasn’t much else noticeable so I made my way back to Dean.

Walking into the diner we took a booth near the back of the building. “Did you find anything?” Dean asked, looking at the plastic menu.

I nodded. “There were still some traces of sulphur so that confirms the demon theory, might be worth getting in touch with Crowley to find out what was so important with that scroll.” I replied with a suggestion.

A waitress came over to the table with a chirpy face and a chirpy voice to match. “Hey folks what can I get ya?”

“Bacon double cheeseburger, fries and a soda.” Dean says with a grin. The waitress turns to look at me. “Make that two.” I said with a warm smile.

“Coming right up.” And with that the waitress walks away.

“How was I so lucky in finding a girl like you?” Dean jokes.

“Don’t get me wrong, a salad won’t do you any harm but who can resist a good burger in a greasy diner?” I replied with a chuckle resting my head in my hand.

“I’m going to head back to the police station after we’re done here, why don’t you head back to the motel relax a bit? You didn’t get any sleep last night”

“Are you going to speak with Nia again?”

I nodded.

“But what the hell was that? Her blowing up the way she did.” Dean asked me.

“You know that I was stuck in a foster home for a few years?”

“Yeah but never knew why.”

I felt that I couldn’t tell Dean the real reason, I felt like nothing would be the same. Even though I’ve known him and Sam since I was eighteen. Even now I was ashamed of my upbringing and to this day I would try and evade certain questions about my past. Part of me felt it was wrong, I knew pretty much everything about the Winchesters but if they knew the real me I feared that I would go back to being alone.

“She should have cooled down by the time we’re done here, she might talk to me but I’m not holding much hope though.”

“She knows that deep down you care for her Nik. It’s kinda like how me and Sam are.”

“Thanks Dean.”

“Anything for you sweetheart.”

Anytime Dean called me sweetheart it made my heart swell, I loved this man to bits and who knew that all those years ago of being friends would lead to something a whole lot more. As much as Dean hated it he knew that I would sacrifice my life for his.

Dean dropped me off at the police station and headed back to the motel, he told me to call him if I needed anything. I made my way to the holding cell that Nia was being held in. She looked up and scoffed. “You back here to gloat? Where’s that idiot boyfriend of yours?”

I shook my head. “I’ll tell you again and again Ni I’m here to help you, please just talk to me.”

We shared a sullen silence and then she let out a sigh.

“You mean it? Don’t you?” She replied finally looking at me, her jade coloured eyes started to tremble in fear.

“Of course I do, we may not be family by blood but you welcomed me when I needed that support system. What happened the other night?”

“I was only going to the Monroe Art Gallery to score some watches and the odd bit of jewellery I could swipe without getting caught. But...but then I saw this smoke and at first I thought something was on fire but then I felt like I was stuck in my own head.” She admitted.

Looking at my surroundings making sure that we still could continue talking. “Was it a thick black smoke?” I asked her softly.

She nodded. “Will it come back?”

“I’ll be honest with you, there is the possibility it could…”

My sister looked petrified with my words...

“But there are ways to protect yourself so it won’t happen again. Once I get you out of here we can put a plan into action.” I finished and after that she seemed to be more at ease. “You really know your stuff don’t you?”

“Well it's what I was trained to do…”

After a long debate with the detective that was leading the investigation I persuaded him to release Nia, with the help of Sam who pretended to be my superior, helping her collect her things as we finally walked out of the station. She had a perk in her step. “I can’t thank you enough Coley.” She says as she turns to me.

“I’m always here for you Nia. I promise.” I replied.

“Have you got time for a coffee?” She asked.

I checked my phone and seeing as I had no texts or missed calls I thought why not.

“Sure.”

Me and Nia were sitting in the same diner as Dean and I were in earlier in the day. Two cups of coffee were on the table as Nia added sugar in hers stirring it with a spoon. I always preferred mine black. “So…What do we do now?” Nia asked me.

“First thing is to get you protected for the future, how do you feel about tattoos?” I asked her.

“You should know I was never a fan of needles Coley. But I’m guessing I’m going to need one?”

I let out a soft chuckle taking a sip of coffee, setting it back onto the table lightly. “Most hunters we know have an anti-possession tattoo. Dean, Sam and myself all have one. And with that we are protected, we can’t be possessed.”

“What was it like?” She asked.

“The tattoo? I’ve been shot multi…”

“No…Not your tattoo...Your training.”

“I love you so much Nia but I can’t bring up my past…” I said softly looking out the window.

“You never really spoke about it, I just wanted to know…”

I sighed. “There’s a reason why I didn’t like speaking about it. What I went through…It was cruel and nobody should have gone through it. I was lucky to get out when I did.”

“Do you miss your home?” Nia asked innocently.

“No.”

After the diner I took Nia to the local 24 hour tattoo shop. It was a small little studio and well decorated. Nia was flicking through some of the designs that the artist had.

“Looking at adding to your collection?” I teased.

“Well if I can stand the pain from this I might just do that.” She replied laughing.

I turned back to the counter, pulling out a piece of paper from my trouser pocket. “We’re looking for something like this.”

“Sure not a problem.” The tattooist said.

Forty Five minutes later, Nia had the anti-possession tattoo on the right side of her ribs, and I felt at ease knowing that she was slightly safer against the supernatural. I just now wanted to find the demon that possessed Nia and send the bastard back to hell.

“I’ve changed my mind, this is going to be the only tattoo I have.” Nia said as we walked out of the shop.

“Well it was one of the worst places to get a tattoo so I’m not surprised that you would change your mind.”

We carried on walking down the street, the plan was to walk Nia back to her hotel and then I was going to walk back to Dean and try get a few hours shut eye before we got back to work. Saying my goodbyes to my sister I left the lobby. It was dark night and the streets were illuminated by the street and building lights. A mix of neon and the stars filled the sky. It was a pleasant night, not too cold but not too warm either. I walked a few blocks down to the nearby street crossing, waiting for it to be safe to cross. I heard the clearing of the throat.

“Hello Fawn.”

“Well it saves the effort of summoning you.”

“Squirrel already beat you to it, not often the pair of you are separated. So tell me Fawn.”

“If you already got the low-down from Dean I don’t need to explain myself to you, but I do want the name of the demon that possessed my sister.” I said sternly, raising an eyebrow.

The crossing light had turned green but yet me and the demon stayed put.

“That would have been Actaeon, he’s gone off the rails as of late. Hell bent on making up for his past mistakes.” Crowley said, shoving his hands in his woolen coat pockets.

“Where can I find him?” I asked.

“You don’t find Actaeon. Actaeon finds you.”

“Crowley I don’t have time to play games, what was so important in that painting he stole?” I asked him.

“The Souls of Gabriel has a scroll inside. The angels wanted it which means I WANT IT. Makes sense don't you think? But if you happen to find Actaeon deal with him won’t you darling? Bad boys get punished.” Crowley replied and he snapped his fingers and he disappeared.

Shaking my head trying to make sense of the conversation I continued my journey back to the motel, putting the key into the door opening it and I saw Dean laid out on the bed watching TV. He lifted his head up from the pillow. “Was starting to think you were going to be out all night.”

“Sorry, I should have called. Good news though. Nia is out of jail and tattooed up. Also spoke to Crowley.” I said sitting on the edge of the bed.

After explaining to Dean what Crowley had said. We both got geared up ready to try and find Actaeon. Although we really had no idea where to start but if Crowley was right Actaeon would find us. Which means we had the opportunity to set up a trap. I always still remembered my training and still to this day I always had two thigh holsters which held my handguns and a small silver knife in my boot. Wanting to make sure my hair was tied up properly I headed to the bathroom, I heard my phone ring from the other room.

“I’ll get it.” Dean said, picking up the phone accepting the call and putting it on speaker.

“Nikki? Can you come over to that bar around the corner from the hotel, something isn’t right.”

“Sure…Me and Dean will head over now.” I said walking to Dean.

“Everything ok Nia?” Dean asked.

“I’m just paranoid I guess.”

“We’re leaving now.”

“Thanks Nik.”

The call dropped and Dean handed me back my phone. “Something isn’t right.”

“Even I could sense something wasn’t right there… Nia never calls you Nikki or Nik.” Dean replied as we made a bee line for the door running out to the parking lot.

“The bar is about five blocks from the motel.” I said quickly sliding into the passenger seat.

Dean started up the impala, Baby roared into life and her tires squealed against the tarmac.

We arrived at the bar, it was a run down building. As we entered the door expecting to see it with patrons but it was empty and Nia was nowhere to be seen.

“Nia?” I called.

“Nia?” Dean said again.

Neither of us heard a response.

While Dean checked the perimeter of the bar, I headed to the back checking the stock room. And when I cautiously opened the door. My heart just shattered into pieces.

Nia was dead...

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