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imagine-darksiders · 1 year

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Fish out of Water - Chapter 4

Imprint.

“Figures,” you huff, grunting as the curve of a chin scrubs gently behind your knees, “Most people are followed home by a lost dog, or a stray cat, but oh no – Not me! I get whatever you two are!”

-------------

Helplessness is, in a word, paralysing.

There have only been two moments in your life where you've faced the unrelenting, near-crushing pressure of true helplessness - the kind that freezes a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck, the kind that a diver must feel when he's run out of oxygen and he's still three hundred feet from the ocean's surface.

The first instance occurred not so long ago, when the doctors lifted your hospital bedsheets and showed you the empty space where your right leg should have been.

The second moment, interestingly enough, is right now, sitting stiffly astride the chest of a Lovecratian sea monster as it carries you over the sea, each immense tentacle working in tandem to push its bulk lazily up the coastline, parallel to the chalk cliffs.

The clammy skin beneath your backside offers little relief from the bone-deep chill that's settled over you like a wet blanket. You're soaked through. Even your newly-acquired, wax coat has been exposed to the sea, and now, every inch of your body is drenched to the touch.

Both of your arms are circled around your one remaining knee and you stare blankly at the space where your prosthetic used to be, eyes wide as saucers and unblinking despite the raindrops that frequently settle on your lashes.

You're frozen, literally and figuratively. The tops of your fingers and toes have gone numb, and you're too petrified to lift your head up to acknowledge the blood-red stare that's affixed to the top of your sodden hair.

The mer with a face so pale and large that it could replace the moon in the night's sky hasn't once allowed its gaze to stray from you, not even, apparently, to check where it's going. You suppose that somehow, it must be able to sense the environment around it through other means, not that you're anything like an expert in marine biology.

For the last five minutes, ever since it hauled itself from the beach with you in tow, you've been sat shivering like a bedraggled idiot on its sternum whilst it floats upside-down on its eastward journey up the coast, moving back alongside the path you'd taken earlier this morning.

Once, it had brought its colossal hands up to its chest and angled them as if it meant to cup each palm around you, but when you nearly scrambled sideways into the icy water to escape, its appendages has quickly retreated, and since then, you've been subjected to its unwavering stare instead, trapped beneath the soft glow of red that lights up the pale skin all around you.

Any ounce of control you thought you'd retained had swiftly evaporated back on that beach.

Perhaps it's the act of sitting directly over an immense, powerful heart that reminds you of how much smaller you are in comparison to the creature swimming below you.

Smaller, slower, weaker.

Prey perched upon a predator's belly.

While neither creature has actually caused you any harm - save for almost giving you numerous heart-attacks - right now, you're painfully aware that they could do whatever the hell they want to you, and you have no way of stopping them. This beast could carry you anywhere it cares to, leaving you stranded out in open water, miles from sight of land, or worse... it could drag you to the bottom of the cold, dark ocean and watch you try to struggle your way back to the surface.

Helpless.... You hate this feeling.

A loud chirp twitches your eyes to the right, out towards the water, where you immediately lock gazes with the other mer, whose fins so closely resemble the rays of a clipart sun that it'd be funny if they were sported by any smaller creature.

As soon as it notices you looking its way, the beast's mouth surfaces and it grins over at you, showing off the wide expanse of baleen that pushes its cheeks up until they're round and pronounced.

After a moment, you blink, give a wet sniffle and eventually drop your chin down to your knee once again, breathing hard as you try to resign yourself to whatever far these things might have in store for you. If you're going to die, you may as well pretend to be dignified about it.

In the corner of your vision, you see the mer's fins flop backwards against its skull and its grin falters until it collapses entirely and the beast sinks back into the waves, disappearing from view with a thick, oily 'gloop.'

Golden scales flash briefly for a second before the creature dives deeper.

You wonder if it's offended by your refusal to interact with it.

Choking on a scoff, you swipe bitterly at the rain in your eyes and try to duck down further behind the collar of your coat.

It's only seconds later that a noisy splash plucks at your attention, to the left this time.

Tossing a glance in that direction, you find yourself once again peering over at the sunny mer, who throws its mouth up into another grin when it sees you looking.

Then, in a strange display, it begins to flap the orange fins surrounding its head back and forth, flinging them upright, then laying them flat against its skull before repeating the motion in quick succession.

It's an absurd behaviour, seemingly benign, and so entirely unexpected that you don't know how else to react other than to offer the beast a half-hearted quirk of your lips, the distant relative of a smile. You can't find the energy to put any real genuineness behind the action.

Apparently however, this is more than sufficient for the mer's agenda, as its entire expression lights up like a sunflower splaying its petals, big, pale eyes pinch shut.

The creature unleashes a series of chirrups and whistles, overcome by what you can only assume is delight.

As it continues to warble over at you, you grow increasingly perturbed. Dropping your mouth into a downturned line once again, you shuffle away from its gaze, turning on your rump to stare down at your kidnapper's clavicle instead.

Over the sound of rushing waves, you catch a despondent whine.

Underneath you, a sudden rumble passes through the moon beast's chest like a seismic wave, travelling up the column of its throat until it peels its lips apart and unleashes a deep, resonant murmur that vibrates your ribcage and rattles the teeth in your skull.

Risking a glance at it, you find that it has lifted its head out of the water to peer over at its ilk.

Something must have passed between them. A word. A conversation, perhaps... because all of a sudden, the sunny behemoth barks out a response and ploughs to an abrupt halt in the surf.

Startled by the sudden displacement of several thousand gallons of ocean, you twist your head over a shoulder to gape after the mer as it spins its vast bulk around, using its arms to move great swathes of water past itself.

And just like that, with a flick of its substantial fluke, it jets off, vanishing below the waves once more, leaving behind nothing but ever-expanding ripples that mingle with those created by the falling rain.

It's headed back in the direction of the beach you've just been swiped from...

You're not even going to pretend to understand the indecipherable conversation that had just happened between those two leviathans.

Sniffing quietly, you clutch your knee to your chest, peering bleakly out in the direction the yellow mer had just disappeared, shuddering like a leaf in a hurricane.

It's only the dark shadow falling over you that snaps you from your trance.

Instinctively, you gasp and duck, throwing your hands up to cover your head as the presence of something huge and heavy looms just a few feet above your fragile skull. Heaving in a lungful of cold air, you tilt your head up gradually, your face pinched in anticipation.

You nearly pass out at the sight of the colossal, webbed palm hovering over you.

Flinching again, you screw your eyes shut and feel your body solidify like a wooden board, expecting a blow that'll crush you flat...

… Seconds pass...

The rain continues splashing against the vast expanse of flesh surrounding you, yet even through the incessant pounding of water on skin, you still register that not a single drop falls upon your head.

And neither does the sea monster's hand.

As the waves slosh and surge around your captor, it gradually starts occurring to you that you haven't yet become a red stain on its sternum.

With all the reluctance of swimming out over a black, oceanic trench, you emerge from behind your raised arms, lowering them slowly until you're once more gaping up at the underside of that enormous hand.

Each claw-tipped finger has to be longer than you are tall.

Stretched wide, the translucent webbing stitched to the side of each digit forms a better umbrella than the one you'd left behind on the beach, keeping you dry from the worst of the storm's deluge. A sudden rumble of thunder booms somewhere off in the distance, out over the open water, reminding you of the tempest's approach.

Despite the remnants of rain that trickle off your chin to get lost beneath the collar of your coat, your lips feel tremendously dry as you level your gaze down, away from the palm hovering above you until your eyes eventually land on the face of your cephalopod captor.

It, in turn, is staring back at you, eyes still wide and glowing ominously in the grey light.

The hand above you doesn't move, but the tentacles continue to propel you both along the coastline, methodically undulating beneath the deep, dark water.

You can feel their motion with every flex and twitch of the giant's abdomen.

A question bubbles at the back of your throat, yet the effort it takes to peel your lips apart is tremendous.

“What-” You immediately cut yourself off when the mer's blue sail perks up a little, hyper-attentive to the sound of your voice. Lips stuffed together, you wait, once again expecting it to make another move.

But after a long minute has passed, you realise it isn't going to. Instead, it only looks down at you, head cocked to one side, almost as if it's waiting for you to continue speaking.

Wetting your lips, you pry them apart again, tasting salt spray on your tongue.

“What.... are you guys?” you ask in a whisper, so soft that you wouldn't have thought the creature had heard you were it not for the quirk of its sail and the expansion of its pupils, each growing enough to nearly encompass the red of its irises.

Irrationally, you fear they could easily turn into a pair of black holes that might swallow you down into their depths if you peer at them for too long.

“Can you, uh... can you understand me?”

Again, the question is only a decibel away from being utterly silent.

For a long moment, the creature only stares back at you, its chin crooked forward onto its chest to keep you within its sights.

Mouth slightly agape, you wait...

And wait....

And wait...

But when no acknowledgement follows your question, you find the heart to ask another, one that's perhaps more pressing than its predecessor.

“Where are you taking me?”

This, at least, emerges from your throat as a louder sound.

It's just a shame it comes out as a sob.

Your theory that the beast can't understand you is suddenly scuppered however when, as if in direct response to your query, it tilts its head back until it's upside down, facing the direction you're headed.

Underneath you, vast muscles shift and contract, and with just a flick of its tentacles, the creature adjusts the course, turning its body effortlessly to face the towering cliffs.

Giving a gasp of alarm, you drop your leg to lay flat across its chest and plant both hands into its spongey flesh, keeping yourself steady when the movement nearly sends you toppling sideways.

Following the mer's gaze, you allow yourself a second to wonder why it's turned towards the cliffs, only to feel your heart suddenly careen forwards to smack against your ribcage as you register an all too familiar sight.

“That's-! That's the cottage!” you exclaim, briefly startled from your existential fear as the sea monster surges cleanly across the ocean on its back like an immense dreadnought cutting the waves in two. For just a moment, you forget yourself, drinking in the sight of the old fisherman's cottage that sits upon the cliff, plain as day, a beautiful splash of white shining out through the gloom of the storm.

You would have never thought that the ramshackle, little place could almost reduce you to tears of relief, but... here you are.

“I-I don't understand!” you gasp out, craning your neck back to gaze up at the cliffs looming over your head as you approach, “Why have yoU~OU-HEY!”

All at once, the familiar slickness of a gigantic tentacle slips gently, but quickly around your waist and you're pried from the mer's chest, flailing wildly for a moment before you remember that there's little to no point. Struggling hadn't helped you escape its clutches before, why should it now?

Gulping audibly, you stare down at the churning waves far below you as the creature rights itself and reaches six of its eight, writhing appendages towards the cliff face.

Powerful suckers crash into the solid rock and adhere themselves to it, and you can do nothing but hang from its grasp as the giant begins to crawl its way up towards the grassy plateau overhead.

It doesn't take much, just two immense pulls from its tentacles working in tandem and suddenly, you're being lifted over the lip of the cliff.

Bracing your hands on the slippery flesh wrapped around your waist, you watch the ground sweep by under your dangling leg as the beast hoists itself up after you, it's breaths coming in great, heaving swathes like a set of bellows intended to coax the sun to rise.

Without prompt, the mer carries you right up to the cottage, just as it had yesterday, almost to the back doorstep before it lumbers to a gradual halt, and, to your mounting confusion, it begins to lower you towards the ground.

The sole of your foot touches down on the sodden grass, yet the tentacle remains around your waist, holding you aloft where you'd likely collapse without the aid of your crutch or prosthetic, both of which are still lost to the sea by now, placing you at an even greater disadvantage than you already were. Not that it'd make a lick of difference, you suppose.

Once again, warmth and potential safety are only a few, hobbling steps away, but this time...

“You brought me back...” you murmur softly to the giant behind you, feeling the ground tremble as it settles its weight onto its arms, “Just like I asked you to...”

This time, something foreign and strangely familiar floats above the lay of fear bobbing inside your belly, something you'd almost forgotten you could feel. You hardly even recognise it for what it is at first, not until you use your arms to pull yourself around in the tentacle's loose grasp, slowly bringing yourself face to gigantic face with the mer.

You've turned towards potential danger, instead of trying to get away from it.

How could you have forgotten the tantalising lure of curiosity? Has it really been lost to you ever since the accident, only to return now, when you're standing on the precipice of something huge and unknown?

Still, the horror and disbelief attempts to force its way to the surface, howling at you to listen to your baser human instincts and continue fighting to escape. But rationality, at last, has found you. The mer is only blinking down at you, its pale chin hovering just a foot or so above the grass and its sail flickering around in the air behind its head, buffeted by the ever-strengthening gale. Behind it, the extensive tentacles stretch towards the edge of the cliff. All bar one.

You've only just realised that the tendril holding you is the same one you'd freed from the net.

Releasing a long, somber breath, you pinch your brows together and rove your gaze over the cross-hatch of pale, pink lines that have been left behind in the otherwise indigo flesh.

Your fingertips press down on the tentacle surrounding you in a quiet offer of sympathy.

The wound looks as though it'll scar, but the creature hasn't lost its limb entirely.

For that, you suppose, you can at least say you've done a good thing.

…

“Huh,” you murmur aloud, a tiny sound of surprised realisation.

When was the last time you did a good thing?

Blinking the rain off your lashes, you draw in a trembling breath and raise your eyes to meet the leviathan's stare.

It lays on its stomach, peering back at you with a curious tilt to its head, twitching the gills on its neck when you open your mouth to speak.

Before you can so much as utter a word, you're almost immediately interrupted by a loud, unexpected warble drifting up to your ears from somewhere below the cliff.

Your stomach flip-flops when you spot the sunny mer's head rising like its namesake over the edge, its fins perked towards you.

With one, almighty heave that sends sediment skittering down into the sea far below, it hauls itself up onto the plateau and starts dragging itself eagerly up towards the cottage, covering several dozen metres in the span of mere seconds.

Even with the storm dulling the landscape around you to deep, oppressive greys, somehow, the mer's golden tail manages to gleam like a solar flare bursting through the darkness of space.

With enormous effort, you drag your eyes from its undulating tail and try not to press yourself backwards into the tentacle's grasp as the second beast careens to a halt beside its counterpart, planting its massive palms in the grass and churning up the soil in its wake.

To your relief, it stops before it can bulldoze straight over you. The tremors rolling through the ground cease, and you're left gaping up into that wide, round face as it beams back at you, bending at the waist to bring itself closer, rainwater cascading off its rays and splashing against the dirt whilst it settles on its forearms in front of you, mirroring the pose of its ethereal friend.

Heart in your throat, you try to slow your breathing, warily eyeing it when its chin finally brushes the tufts of grass underneath it.

If you were to stretch out an arm, you'd wager you could touch the slippery surface just below its mouth.

Slowly, ever so slowly, those baleen teeth peel apart right in front of you, giving you the jarring impression that it might be seconds away from swallowing you whole.

Peering down that damp, cavernous gullet would have your knee collapsing out from underneath you, were it not for the tendril still keeping you aloft.

Before the panic can steal what little body heat still remains in your extremities however, you see it.

A flash of white, sitting slap-bang in the centre of the pink, fleshy tongue.

“No way,” you breathe incredulously, overcome by the disconcerting gnaw of deja-vu.

But sure enough, only a second later, the familiar, shiny plastic of your once-thought-lost prosthetic comes tumbling out from between the leviathan's jaws and lands with a dull 'splat' in the mud at your foot.

Mind reeling, you rove a daring look up the length of its body until you meet its pale stare again. “You... went back?" you croak, releasing a shuddering exhale, "For this?”

By way of its own, unusual reply, the sunny mer trills noisily, clicking its baleen together and shifting its weight until there's enough room for a colossal arm to creep forwards along the ground. Then, extending one, long finger, the beast nudges at your prosthetic, sliding it a few inches closer to you before withdrawing its hand and flicking its gaze between the lump of plastic and your face a few times, as if to silently convey a message it can't communicate through speech.

For a long moment, you can do little else but blink numbly at the limb in front of you as your brain tumbles over itself piecing together bits of information that have, until now, been nothing more than fleeting thoughts.

They brought you back. They brought your lost prosthetic back. Neither mer has caused you any real harm, barring the admittedly dicey incident where you thought you were about to be crushed under a gigantic fist for the crime of producing a blunt knife.

Even now you can feel the gentle pressure of a tentacle around your waist, just enough to keep your standing upright on the ground, yet never once does it grow tight enough to cause discomfort. You've seen the power behind those limbs. The strength they'd have to possess just to heave such a gargantuan body up over the side of a cliff. The control it must be exerting simply to keep itself from hurting you is...

Well. It's substantial, to say the least.

What monster would extend such a courtesy?

What monster would allow you to free its injured limb from a suffocating net, and return you to a place of safety?

Just what in the world have you stumbled upon?

Or perhaps, more fittingly, what in the world has just stumbled upon you?

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you drag your gaze up to their faces, each hovering so close to you now, you can feel the warmth of their combined breaths chasing away a bit of the chill in your muscles.

What you wouldn't give for a nice, hot bath right about now...

When you open your mouth, they immediately perk up, a twitch of their fins alerting you to their attention. You only hesitate to gather yourself before you manage to say anything that won't come out as a squeak.

“... Maybe I'm just going insane,” you begin, listening to the yellow mer croon at the sound of your voice, its smile stretching ever wider, “But I'm starting to think you guys aren't gonna hurt me...”

For several seconds, the only movement around you comes from the rain pelting rythmically against the wet earth.

But then, at the pace of a vast, white glacier, the moon-faced beast pushes its head along the grass until it's hovering right in front of you, so close that you can see a reflection of yourself gawking back at you from deep within its eyes.

Two slitted nostrils flare and wink shut several times near your face, blasting your hair back off your slick forehead.

Your trembling hands uncurl themselves from the fists they'd squashed themselves into.

“Maybe I really have gone insane...”

A shaking hand tentatively peels itself from your chest, and before you can think to come to your senses, you start reaching out across the meagre space separating you from the mer's head.

“Please don't bite me,” you whisper under your breath, mouthing 'please' over and over again and screwing your expression up into a tight ball until, with a soft gasp, you feel your hand make contact with the spongey skin on the creature's nose, just between its eyes.

Breathless, you open your mouth to try and draw in a trembling inhale, easing your brows apart and staring up at the sight of your fingers pressing tiny divots into the pale, malleable wall of flesh.

“Oooh~ my god,” you half sing, half whimper as the beast's eyes slip shut and it emits a contented rumble, sending quakes up your arm and into your chest, “This is crazy. This is... I mean... Shit, I don't know. But it's huge!”

Evidently taking umbrage to the fact that its friend is receiving attention and it isn't, the sunny mer warbles a loud complaint. The next thing you know, your moon friend's face has been bunted aside to make room for a grinning beast of equally epic proportions.

Taken aback, it's tentacle jerks open and you're dropped, landing on your backside in the mud with a startled yelp only to find your space thoroughly invaded by that same insistent, yellow snout.

A swift reprimand is dealt by the larger mer, who snaps its sharp teeth perilously close to the offender's orange fins, though the latter either doesn't care, or doesn't notice, too preoccupied with gazing down at you with a hopeful chirr.

“O-okay,” you hum, swallowing your heart back down into your chest and reaching up with a quivering arm, “Just... just steady, all right? You're a lot bigger than I am, remember...”

Where the first behemoth had waited for your hand to find its nose in your own time, the second seems a little more impatient, and before you know it, the warm, squidgy tip of its snout has all but shoved itself into your palm.

It takes every ounce of courage you have to spare to keep yourself from recoiling.

Instead, you force down the lump of nerves in your throat and allow your fingers to splay out across the yellow skin. At first, the mer's eyes grow wide and round at the sensation, as if it's overcome by wonder.

“There,” you utter, biting down apprehensively on your lower lip, “Happy?”

Yes, apparently.

The behemoth's immense chest expands and contracts around a sigh that nearly bowls you over onto your back with the force of it. The strong stench of fish doesn't help to keep you sitting upright either.

“Eugh,” you cough, flapping your free hand in front of your nose whilst you give the creature's flesh a steady pat, earning yourself a pleased hum in response, “Sorry I asked.”

If it's at all put out by your mild repulsion, the mer doesn't show it.

Gradually, the seconds tick over into a minute, and all the while, you keep your hand pressed against the curious nose, feeling the apprehension drain from your heart with every passing moment, and in spite of the cold, in spite of the terror you've felt over the past few days, even in spite of the twinge of your missing limb, your lips twitch up into an unmistakable, albeit tentative smile. The first, genuine smile you've plastered on your face since the accident.

The muscles in your cheeks bunch and ache a little, as if it's been just a little too long for them to remember what they're supposed to do.

There, at the very bottom of your chest, just below your thrumming heart, a tiny spark of wonder ignites.

But as soon as you notice its presence, your smile wavers, falling at the corners of your mouth.

“I don't know what you guys are or how the Hell you haven't been discovered yet but... whatever this is, it's big.” Slowly, your hand drifts away from the yellow mer, much to its apparent dismay as it opens its eyes and utters a petulant whine.

Shaking your head at it, you add, “It's too big for me...”

Perhaps if you were a marine biologist or... or an adventurer of some kind, you'd be beside yourself with excitement right now.

But as it is, you're neither of those things.

This is... They are someone else's discovery. Someone who would have half a clue of how to approach this from a sensible, level-headed point of view. This kind of thing doesn't happen to people like you.

You just want to be left alone.

“I don't know what you two want from me,” you sigh, raising a hand to scrub at the back of your neck, “Or whether you even want anything, but... but I don't think I'm... I'm not what you're looking for... Okay? I have to go home...”

Your statement doesn't seem to have much of an effect on either of them. The yellow behemoth keeps sending fleeting but pointed glances down at your hands whilst its counterpart remains still and silent, its eyelids dropping into a lazy blink.

“I have to go home,” you repeat, gesturing behind yourself at the house before pointing a finger between the two mer, “And you... you have to go to your home.” You lean sideways and indicate the ocean, prompting them to twist their heads around to follow the line of your finger.

“Do you understand?”

Apparently not, given the blank stares you're receiving.

Heaving out a sigh, you throw your hands up before leaning forwards and grabbing the prosthetic, grimacing when your fingers slide against the sticky, cooling saliva that clings to the plastic.

All of a sudden, the sky above you seem to grow darker, and at first, you assume the storm has taken a turn for the worse, but a quick glance skywards reveals that it's only your two new acquaintances looming closer, each watching with wide-eyed fascination as you begin pulling the prosthetic liner inside out and tug it over your stump, squeezing the air bubbles out of it as you go.

It'd be easier if you were standing, but with the mud still slick beneath you, you don't trust yourself not to simply slip over as soon as you attempt to get up.

Your audience continues to observe closely whilst you stick your residual limb into the socket and wriggle it around, ensuring the pin hasn't come loose in its journey from the beach back to you.

Once satisfied, you plant your feet against the ground and try to rise, but almost instantly, you realise it'll be a little more tricky than you first anticipated.

Your shoes slide jarringly across the wet grass as you try to gather purchase.

“Dammit,” you curse, making a second attempt, failing to notice the mers raising their heads to look at one another. You only realise they've moved when they both utter some kind of warbling croon, drawing your attention up to find them once again engaged in a back and forth of watery sounds that you have no hope of ever learning to decipher.

For a moment, the pace of your heart quickens slightly, wondering if, by some miracle, they understood you earlier and they're about to depart.

But that brief hope is extinguished almost a second later.

With no prior warning, the blue mer dips its head in the eerily human gesture of a nod before it returns its focus to you, shifting onto one elbow and reaching a mammoth hand out towards you.

“Woah, woah, wait! Hang on!” you blurt, waving your arms about as if you could deter it, but your efforts are all for nought.

Scrambling backwards only gets you a few inches of distance before you're promptly scooped up by smooth, cautious fingers and gently tilted sideways until you find yourself nestled safely within the cup of its palm.

Disoriented, you throw out a hand to grasp the creature's immense thumb and hold yourself steady, giving your head a rough shake to dislodge the hair plastered to your forehead.

No sooner have your regained your bearings than a soft pressure lands upon the crown of your head, pushing a yelp out of you at the jarring presence.

You instantly try to duck away from the pressure, lifting your hands to shove against cool skin, but it only follows your head down, nudging persistently into your hair.

“Hey-!” you start to complain, only to stuff your lips together and screw your face up when, of all things, the mer drags its entire, pale cheek across your nose and mouth.

Cracking open your eyes, you have to slam them shut again because the leviathan turns its head and slides its opposite cheek back across your face once more, further baffling you with the seemingly innocuous yet undeniably bizarre behaviour.

What in God's name is it doing?

Gasping out a breath, you're only slightly relieved when the mer lowers its attention and begins to nose at your chest instead, bowling you over onto your back as it rubs its chin very deliberately over the top of your leg and prosthetic.

“Gah! Stop that!” you complain, rolling over onto your stomach in an effort to escape the unwarranted attention, yet all this accomplishes is presenting your back to the mer, who wastes no time in giving this side of you the same treatment. A wheezing breath is pushed out of you as it squashes its cheek into your spine, and – to your mortification – starts to nuzzle into the fabric of your wax coat.

“Come on, man,” you whinge and reach out to grab at the webbing between its fingers, hoping to pull yourself away from the uncomfortable weight on your back, “You're gonna make me stink of fish!”

Just then, you pause, raising your head and squinting in disbelief through the mer's digits at the cottage, and the other behemoth lumbering towards it.

“What the-!? What the Hell are you doing!?”

Trapped by the face of the giant behind you, you're helpless but to watch on in disgruntled bemusement as the sunny mer flops its way right up to your grandfather's cottage and promptly drags the length of its body along the crumbling, eastern wall, not unlike a giant, slippery cat rubbing itself fondly between the ankles of its owner.

Lacking any apparent shame, it circles the cottage slowly, hauling itself along on its arms and exposing each wall to a rough scrape. You grimace when the poor, old stone creaks and groans in protest.

Struggling to raise yourself onto your hands and knees, you aim a shout at the yellow beast, trying to hear yourself think over the sudden croon of the mer nosing at the back of your neck.

“Oh, great! That's just great!” you yell, “Now the whole place is gonna reek of you guys! Do you mind!?”

Completing one, full circle of the cottage, the sun-faced giant finally peels itself from the walls and replies to you with a shake of its fins, slapping its fluke against the ground and giving you a smile that makes it look entirely too pleased with itself for your liking.

As if in response to your grumbling, a slick, wet tongue laps gingerly over the seam where your prosthetic is attached to your stump, pulling a shrill squeal from your lungs.

Indignant, you whip yourself over onto your back and address the enormous face hovering over you, jabbing a shaking finger at it and hollering, “All right! Enough! Put me down this instant!”

Slitted nostrils suck the air from around your head as the mer gives you a good, long sniff before, at long last, it obliges, though you imagine this is due to mere coincidence rather than any acknowledgement of your squeaky demand.

Still, it seems this mortifying and undignified ordeal might finally be coming to an end as you're lowered to the back step of the cottage and tilted gingerly from the behemoth's palm.

Back on solid ground, you stumble away from the hand, uttering a belated, "Thank you," and letting your spine hit the doorknob.

You were right. The entire house and your clothes are now saturated with the salty stench of the sea with a rather unpleasant, fishy undertone. You can only hope this rain will wash off the worst of the smell.

The dinky, little shower at the back of the cottage is suddenly seeming more and more like a good idea, and you're reminded of just how long it's been since you had a good, long scrub.

Sighing rigidly, you aim a hesitant glare between each of the giants, fumbling with the doorknob and twisting it open, kicking the door inwards with the back of your heel. “Right... This has been...” You hesitate, trying to find an adequate word to sum up the entire experience. Eventually, you can only settle on, “Weird.”

It isn't a lie. Not entirely. Terrifying would be another word you'd use.

“Thank you for bringing me back,” you add, nodding at the blue mer before flicking a quick smile at the yellow one, “And thanks for returning my prosthetic.”

The pair of them seem to preen, either because they've earned your attention, or because they can at least comprehend a word of gratitude when they hear it.

With slow, shuffling steps, you edge backwards through the threshold of the cottage, keeping your eyes trained on the giants outside. “Now... Uh, go... go home,” you tell them, once again pointing out at the sea beyond the cliffs.

They don't follow the line of your arm this time, apparently far more interested in keeping their eyes glued on your face, so you drop your limb to your side and take another step, grabbing the edge of the door as you pass.

It's odd. You actually feel awkward closing the entrance on them, especially given that they're still staring down at you in total silence, their fins pricked to attention as if they expect you to continue engaging with them in some undisclosed way.

Swallowing thickly, you offer one last, uncertain smile that comes and goes as swiftly as a blink, and at last, you close the door, listening to the subtle 'click' of the latch sliding into place.

Spinning around, you let your back thud into the wood behind you, sagging like a deflated balloon.

Being inside, unable to see the marine giants, your brain starts trying to convince you that they hadn't even been real in the first place.

Out of sight, and all that.

But as you shuffle unsteadily to the bathroom at the back of the cottage and pass by a window on your way, you happen to glance through a gap in the curtains and catch sight of a single, enormous red eye peering in at you.

“Okay,” you mutter to yourself, reaching out a shaky hand and tugging the curtains closed, “Where the hell did granddad keep the towels...”

#fnaf #Mermay #Sunnydrop #Moondrop #Daycare attendant #daycare attendant x y/n #reader #giant merman #g/t #gentle giants #Moon: We're going to make you and your nest smell like us #Moon: So everyone will know you're part of our territory #Y/n: I need to shower this smell off immediately #Moon: Wait

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topguncortez · 2 years

Text

Brosectomy - J. Seresin

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x shy!wife characters: Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC!Wife (Valerie), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Alex Seresin, Ella Seresin, Eli Seresin, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace warnings: vasectomy, crude language (?), Jake and Javy are dramatic, Jake post-surgery word count: A/N: I saw these tiktoks about Link and Rhett's brosectomy, and now here we are:) And here's a little break from all the whump

|| masterlist || Opposites Attract World || library page ||

When Jake and Y/N found out they were expecting not one, but two children, Jake knew that it was time to get a vasectomy. Y/N had mentioned getting her tubes tied after Eli, but Jake didn't want her to make a decision that would be so permanent when they weren't sure if they were totally done having kids. He also didn't want her to have an extra surgery that would take her longer to recover from, when he could get a local anesthetic and be done within an hour and be able to run after the kids that same day.

Jake wanted to wait until at least after the twins were born to get the surgery, wanting to make sure that he would be able to help. But then he changed his mind when Coyote explained he was also looking into the surgical option.

Coyote and his wife Valerie had three kids under the age of three, and were done for the time being. And Jake couldn't blame them. He was happy that him and Y/N had spaced their kids out by three years.

Y/N and Valerie were sitting in the kitchen as their kids played together. Y/N was the closest with Valerie out of all the wives/partners of the group. She had known her the longest and was Alex's godmother. Y/N felt like she was ready to pop being nearly seven months pregnant with the twins. Valerie was in the middle of telling some story about her oldest girl, Jenna face planting down the stairs when Jake walked in.

“We’re getting a brosectomy,” Jake announced and opened the fridge to get a water out, handing one to Coyote who trailed in behind him.

“A what?” Y/N asks, turning to face the boys.

“A brosectomy,” Coyote repeats.

“Got that, Javy… what exactly is that?” Valerie asks.

“A vasectomy with the bros,” Jake smiles, “Val, Javy here tells me that you two have talked about him getting the ol snip, and well if i even mention having another baby, this missus right there looks ready to commit murder.” Y/N and Valerie shared another look at Jake’s explanation, “So why not go through this stage of life with your bro. Javy and I have done damn near everything together.”

“What brings two guys closer than cutting your swimmers off,” Javy shrugs.

“The two of you literally fly death machines together,” Y/N pointed out, “But I mean… it’s your bodies, your choices.”

“I agree with Y/N. At least a vasectomy is reversible if we want more kids,” Valerie said. Jake gave Y/N a look and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

“Don’t even think about it Seresin, five is enough,” Y/N said pointing a finger at him, and if as right on que, three blonde haired Seresin children came running in, followed by three dark haired Machado children.

"How fast can you get this appointment?"

Jake got the appointment very quickly. Having already researched an arsenal of surgeons in the area, him and Coyote chose one that they both liked, and made appointments for as soon as possible. They schedule time off work, the doctor recommended at least 10 days totally off work and another week or so of no flying. Jake thought he was going to die not being able to fly for three weeks, but he told himself it was a small price to pay compared to the intensive labors Y/N had gone through.

Phoenix was watching the Seresin kids as Y/N sat in the small room with Jake. He was cursing up a storm about having to wear the hospital gown, but Y/N found it hilarious. She had become a near expert about hospital gowns and always came prepared. Jake climbed up on the small exam table with a sigh, and Y/N giggled.

"You think this is funny?" He said looking over at her, "Some doctor is about to come in here and cut my balls off."

"Okay, you are not a dog," Y/N said rolling her eyes, "And it's just a clip on the-"

"I know, I remember the video," Jake shuddered. He waited a moment before looking over at his pregnant wife, "Is it weird to be sad?"

"No, I don't think it's weird," Y/N said, and leaned over the best she could to run her fingers through his hair, "It's a big thing. It's a life changing thing, really. Means no more babies," She looked down to her very round stomach.

"It's really the end," Jake sighed, "But it doesn't mean we still can't practice." He gave her that classic Hangman smirk and wink.

"Once you start shooting blanks, we can," Y/N sat back in her chair as there was a knock on the door. She smiled as Jake's doctor and Coyote came trailing into the room, "Doctor Miller."

"Y/N, Jake, you ready for this?" Doctor Miller asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Jake sighed and shifted on the exam table, "Give me the ol' snip, doc!"

"I think that's my cue to leave," Y/N giggled. Coyote helped her stand up from the chair and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "Val already out there?"

"Yep, so is Bob, Rooster, Payback and Fanboy," Coyote said and Y/N gave him a questioning, "Moral support."

"Oh good god, you would think you two are about to have brain surgery with the dramatics," Y/N rolled her eyes, "I'll see you in an hour," Y/N said to Jake and he nodded, "I love you."

"I love you too," Jake said and kissed his wife.

Y/N said a goodbye to Coyote and Doctor Miller before going out to the waiting room with Valerie. She sighed as she sat down next to the woman.

"We are married to two of the most dramatic men I have ever met," Valerie joked.

"Their mothers deserve an award," Y/N smiled.

It was nearly an hour later when Doctor Miller came out to tell the two wives that their husbands surgeries were complete and they were in recovery. Y/N waddled her way down to the recovery room that Jake was in. She giggled at the look on his face and the ice pack pressed to his groin area.

"I'm glad you find my pain funny," Jake slurred.

"I'm sorry, baby," Y/N said and walked over to her husband. Jake sat up a bit and put his hands on either side of growing belly.

"I did this cause I am a true man and true men do this for their wives," Jake said to her bump. Y/N had to bite back her laughter, "Even if one of you are, or both of you, are girls, you make your man get the cut. Or if you are boys, you get the cut for your wives."

"Okay Mister True Man," Y/N said and Jake looked up at her eyes. His pupils were slightly dilated, probably from the pain meds he was given. He had a lazy smile on his face as he leaned up to kiss his wife, "How are you feeling?"

"Amazing," He sighed and laid back on the bed, "Javy saw my dick, said you're a lucky woman."

"Oh my god," Y/N blushed.

"You are! The luckiest, ever. And now we can fuck all the time and not have to worry about kids. Even though they are a blessing and I love them so very much. We can raw dog it all the time now," Jake gave his wife a lazy smirk and she shook her head, "What!? You like it when I hit it raw." He reached down and grabbed his wife's ass making her squeal.

"Jacob Thomas Seresin!"

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differenteagletragedy · 5 months

Note

if requests are still open, i hope you don't mind writing some comfort headcanons for mc who's ill with olba boys (i'm down with covid again,, its making me kinda sad because its near the holidays). if you're not comfortable write these, its fine!! thank you for writing olba fics and works - they're like a source of comfort to read esp since the game is officially finished 🫶

I hope you feel better, friend!!!

-- Cove is doing the thing where he's freaking out but he's trying not to make this about him, but like he's REALLY freaking out. Especially if it's covid (I know covid isn't a thing in Our Life Land, but he would NOT be well in 2020, or for a while after).

-- He's not concerned in the least that he'll catch it. He'll wear a mask if you ask, but he's more concerned about taking care of you. Literally tell him anything you need and he'll get it/do it. If you feel up to it, you can get some good laughs this way.

-- Gets one of those thermometers that you can just hover over a forehead to check someone's temperature, checks yours constantly, even (especially) while you're sleeping.

-- If you still live at home or nearby, he's having your moms and/or Cliff cook for you. He can heat up some soup, but he's going to be asking for the good stuff for you. If you don't live nearby, he's going to have to get something delivered.

Cove: *barely paying attention to his phone while checking your temperature for the umpteenth time that day* Hey Siri, DoorDash soup.

Siri: I'm sorry, I --

Cove *throws phone out the window*

-- Cove will take care of you diligently with sort of a panicked undertone. Derek will be just as diligent, but as a certified third parent to two baby brothers, this isn't his first rodeo.

-- Guy actually has a notepad on the counter that he's using to monitor your symptoms.

-- He picked up one of those little oxygen sensors too, you know what I mean? Like the little things they put on your finger at the doctor to check your oxygen levels (science). You can get them for your own person use too, and he grabbed one at the pharmacy when he was picking up supplies.

-- If he has to take you to get medical care, he is going to present as calm and collected because he knows that acting like the scared little lovesick boy he is on the inside isn't going to help anything, and he's an expert about pushing his feelings down anyway, so he's had practice!

Nurse: *after listening to Derek give a summary of your symptoms* Wow, you really know your stuff! Are you in healthcare?

Derek: No, this is just who I am as a person.

-- Baxter is a little bit of a mix between the two! He'll pretend to be calm, it's no big deal, you're just sick, you'll be fine. But on the inside, he's giving Clingy Cove a run for his money.

-- Do you guys have those nurse lines where you can call and talk to a nurse and they'll tell you what they advise you to do? Yeah, they get on a first name basis with Baxter during this.

-- He's not sleeping until he's certain you're going to be ok. If you're good and sick for a few days, you are going to have an absolutely unhinged nursemaid looking after you.

You: Baxter, you can go to bed, seriously, it's fine.

Baxter: *dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, he threw on one of your t-shirts because he stopped being able to work buttons after being awake for so long, he looks absolutely feral and not even remotely in a hot way* I'm all right, darling! Don't worry about me!

-- Will cook for you, is cleaning up everything while you sleep, work can wait. This boy is ANXIOUS, again, especially if its covid. Maybe you might have to have a talk about it when you get to feeling better!

#our life beginnings and always #cove holden #derek suarez #baxter ward

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thewritingbeforesunrise · 1 year

Text

BALLERINA - Chapter Six.

A Jake Kiszka AU

Physiotherapist!Jake x Original Female Character

Previous Chapter.

A/N: You have been waiting for this one. Here it is, finally. 🔥🔥

In the text, you will find a little link with an ambience sound that I thought was fitting for this chapter. I hope you like it.

Please, let me know what you think about this!

If you are interested, you can join my taglist here.

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings for this chapter: 18+ MINORS ABSOLUTELY DNI - kissing, oral (f!receiving), talking of physical rehabilitation and medical stuff (I am not an expert, I apologise for any inaccuracies), poor mental health, soft!Jake.

_________________________________

It was mid March when Iris was dismissed from the hospital.

Now it was a hot afternoon in the beginning of June and she was walking to therehabilitation studio.

She had made huge progress with Jake's help and now she could walk and even run a little on her own, without any help.

The only signs of the injury on her leg were the two big pale scars on it. She still had to get used to them, but she were recovering well.

Jake was helping her in the first steps towards maybe being able to dance again, and she was very grateful for it.

If on the physical side she had come a very long way, on the emotional side she was a wreck, and it was entirely because of him.

Every time she saw him, which meant three times a week now, he was more beautiful than the day prior. The feelings that his hands elicited were stronger every day to the point that she didn't know how much she would be able to resist the urge to push him right against the wall and ravage him.

He affected her to the point that every time she went home after a rehabilitation session, she had to go straight to the shower, discarding her soaked and ruined panties in the laundry and touch herself until she came undone thinking about him.

His name threatened to spill from her lips every time.

Today the weather was awful.

Big black clouds were approaching, causing the temperature to be even more suffocating. The five minute walk to his studio felt like thirty minutes under the scorching hot sun and once Iris arrived there she was glad the air conditioning wasn't set too high.

Unlike the other times the waiting room was packed.

The secretary told Iris that there would be some delay in the appointments because the doctor had an emergency at the hospital and he had to leave his studio for three hours.

She didn't mind waiting to see him, she always had a book with her so she took a seat near the balcony and started reading.

Every now and then she could hear the rumble of thunder approaching and from the window she could see the grey clouds. They were swirling fast and becoming even darker, the lightning spreading on and inside of them like cracks in porcelain.

The hours passed and now she was the only one left in the studio.

It was almost 7 pm.

He must be exhausted, she thought.

Once she saw the last person that was inside with him leave, she put away her book and waited for the secretary to call her.

After a while, she told Iris to go inside and she pushed the door open.

There he was.

She could see how tired he was, but she couldn't help but find him even more beautiful. His hair was again tied in a low ponytail and he was wearing a simple white tshirt and grey joggers.

She took off her shoes and approached him. Even though he was tired, he was gleaming when he smiled at her, his perfect teeth showing and she couldn't help but blush, again.

He was used to it by now, she told herself.

"Hi, Iris I am so sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, but I had an emergency in the hospital this morning and I had to help in an emergency surgery." He told her with a sigh.

He looked really exhausted.

"It's ok, don't worry, I know you are very busy." She quickly answered.

"Not many of my patients seem to remember it. I don't want to argue with them but there was a man this morning, right after I came back from surgery, that I really wanted to punch in the face because he expected me to see him without appointment. I just had time for a quick shower and then I headed here. I didn't even have time to eat." He said rapidly.

Then he buried his face in his hands saying "Oh my God, sorry. I didn't mean to vent about my problems with you. I am so sorry," he told her sheepishly.

Iris honestly didn't mind.

"You can do that, we are friends aren't we? So friends help each other." She retorted, smiling at him.

He was always so sweet and she wanted to help him.

At that moment, they were interrupted by a loud booming thunder that made the windows shake.

"And to make matters worse, it looks like the end of the world is coming." He said looking out of the window.

There was a knock on the door and the secretary entered.

"Dr Kiszka, I am sorry to interrupt your appointment but I wanted to ask you if I can try to head home before the storm begins," the woman said.

"Yes, of course Alice, sorry to have kept you here after the end of your shift. I'll close the studio, see you on Monday. Have a nice weekend." He said and waved her goodbye.

While he talked to her, Iris had time to take out of her bag something she had brought for him.

Once his attention was back on her, she spoke sheepishly

"You said you didn't have time to eat and I brought something that could help you," Iris said, embarrassed, "you can't work for so long on an empty stomach." She gave him a bag of the same chocolate bars he chose that day back in the hospital.

She remembered that taste all too well.

"This is absolutely my favourite, you remembered," he said surprised.

As if I could forget, you tasted exactly like this when you kissed me that night, she thought.

Iris felt so stupid because she couldn't stop herself from buying those chocolate bars, on the exact same day after she had come home from the hospital, but she couldn't bring herself to eat them. That memory was too painful.

So she gave them to her mother, instead.

But today she wanted to bring him something, so she bought them again and hoped they didn't melt during her walk to the studio.

"Ok I am going to eat this only if you'll have one yourself, Iris," he told her and she nodded.

She grabbed one from the bag he had just opened and unwrapped it with him. She watched him as he chewed slowly. Even the flexing of his jawline was sexy for her.

She almost choked when he noticed a bit of melted chocolate on his pointer finger and brought it to his mouth, sucking on it lightly to clean it. She had to avert her eyes from his mouth forcefully.

To distract herself, she took a bite of her chocolate, but it clouded her senses.

It reminded her of the softness of his lips on hers. She could recall their taste by heart.

Another thunder distracted her from her feelings.

The storm was approaching slowly but relentlessly.

"Thank you for this Iris. I am already feeling better now, this was exactly what I needed on this awful day." She smiled at him and told him "You are welcome Jake."

"Let's start with rehabilitation." He said, clapping his hands once.

They were working on balance exercises because the muscles of her thigh were out of training and hurt a little the more she exerted it.

Jake always told her to take things slowly, but she was growing impatient to go back to dancing and she wasn't listening to him.

After another try of keeping the position he had asked her, for more than ten seconds, a cramp stopped her efforts and she almost collapsed to the floor clutching her right thigh.

He was faster and caught her by her waist before she could crumble on the floor and helped her sit down on the couch he used to visit patients on.

Thunders were growing louder by now and she could see flashes of lightning bounce rapidly around the room.

The sky was so dark that Jake had to turn on the lights to see well. Big drops of rain were starting to fall, hitting the windows loudly.

The cramp wasn't stopping and Iris was almost on the verge of tears clutching her leg with her hands.

He guided her to lie down on the couch and started to massage the muscle of her thigh with his warm hands.

He was touching her carefully, he didn't want to hurt her more than she was already.

He kept rubbing slow circles on her skin, with different levels of pressure.

Iris was wearing shorts because of the hot temperatures so his hands were stroking her bare skin.

She couldn't deny that the touch of his hands was affecting her and she couldn't stop a little whimper from leaving her mouth when his fingertips dug deeper into her skin.

He mistook it for pain and quickly apologized.

At that moment, there was a very loud and cracking sound closeby and the light went out, abruptly.

Black out.

A lightning must have hit somewhere near the studio.

"Fantastic, this was just what we needed," she heard him mutter in an ironic tone.

The two of them were surrounded by darkness and the only source of feeble light was the very dark sky and the occasional white flash of lightning.

Her eyes started to adjust to it, quickly.

When the lightning hit, Iris had jolted up so now she was sitting on the couch and Jake was right in front of her, hands still on her thigh.

"Are you ok?" He asked kindly

"Yes," she answered, even though it was a damn big lie.

Iris wasn't OK, he was so close that she could feel his breathing fan on her cheeks and the problem was that she needed him closer.

He was staring at her now, his eyes kept flickering from her eyes to her mouth for an indefinite amount of time.

A loud thunder seemed to spur him on.

"Fuck it, I can't take this anymore," he whispered, then grabbed her face with both of his hands and unexpectedly kissed her on her lips.

Iris was so shocked that she didn't respond to the kiss right away, but, when he tried to pull away, she put a hand behind his neck, stopping him from parting from her lips.

He tasted just like the other time and she was already intoxicated.

Her other hand went into his hair, untying it delicately and stroking it, her nails slowly sinking into his scalp.

She felt him huff a little breathy sigh from his onto her cheek and she tried to bring him even closer so that their proximity was almost painful.

The kiss deepened every second more.

What started soft and simple turned heated, hot and labored.

It was a mess of fighting tongues, bumping noses, clattering teeth and biting of lips.

After a while, Iris pulled away to catch her breath.

His forehead was pressed to hers, his breathing fast and his eyes closed.

"You can't even imagine for how long I wanted to do this. You have no idea. Since that night in the hospital, I haven't been able to think about anything else." He bent his head to whisper into her ear.

She whimpered at his words, biting her lips painfully.

His eyes were boring holes into hers and she felt the urge to confess to him all of her sins.

His thumb pressed on her bottom lip, untucking it from her teeth and stayed there until she spoke.

"I have been doing the same from the moment you entered my hospital room. I can't deny it anymore. You don't know how difficult it was to have your hands on me for this long and try to restrain myself." she confessed, breathless.

He stopped her ramblings with another searing kiss but, this time, his hands wandered to her waist squeezing her flesh.

With trembling fingers, she touched his cheekbones, his nose, his neck and dragged down his lean chest only to land on his hips.

Just as her hands gripped his hips, his hands slid down her thighs making goosebumps raise on her skin.

"Oh darling, you don't even know. Right after that night, every time I came to visit you, I was afraid of not being able to control myself. I wanted to take you right there against the wall. It felt so wrong because you looked so innocent but I couldn't help myself. You got me so fucking hard that I was afraid you could notice." He whispered right on her lips.

She couldn't believe his words.

Her already wet panties were now soaked thanks to them. She had to bite her lips again so as not to moan.

Her hands lifted his tshirt lightly and came in contact with the soft and hot bare skin of his back, exploring it tentatively. With shaking fingers she traced his spine, his shoulder blades and then went back to his plush hips.

His lips trailed down her neck and when he started to suck on her pulse point, occasionally biting it then soothing it with his warm tongue, she dug her nails in his strong hips, making him groan into her neck.

His muscles twitched under her touch and before he kissed her again, another lightning illuminated his fierce features.

His mouth was agape, his chest heaving and his eyes burning.

It was almost enough to make Iris come.

His hands on her thighs trailed upwards again and he gave a good squeeze of her ass that had her biting his bottom lip mid kiss and then went under her tshirt.

"Can I take this off?" He broke the kiss and asked her.

"Please, yes," she answered out of breath and with a little smirk he did.

When, thanks to another lightning, he saw that underneath she was wearing a simple powder blue cotton bra he groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder.

"This fucking color again, you can't even imagine what this does to me." He said with a strained voice

In reality, she could.

She could feel him very well since he was pressed very close to her.

His mouth started a trail of open mouthed kisses down her shoulder and just above her breasts.

Her hands tugging lightly at his hair had him whimpering lightly.

She gripped the fabric of his tshirt and between labored breaths asked him the same question he had for her.

"Can I take this off?" She asked.

Before she could finish the sentence he had already tugged it past his head and discarded it on the floor.

She took a minute to admire him.

He was stunning.

His chest was toned but not too much, his skin was lightly tanned and so soft.

He was perfect.

The moment her lips made contact with his collarbone, the loudest thunder so far rattled the windows making her jump lightly.

She bit at his clavicle and felt his hands in her hair bringing her closer to him.

He leant his head backwards giving her access to his neck.

Iris wanted to bite him everywhere. She wanted to mark every inch of his skin.

His fingers grazed the band of her shorts and she tugged them off from her body, leaving her in just her bra and mismatching pastel green panties in front of him.

He had to close his eyes the moment he saw her like that.

"I think you are trying to kill me. Only you can make a simple pair of cotton panties look so sexy." His lips were once again at her ear.

He dragged his pointer finger on the elastic band and she couldn't help but bite her lips and dig her nails in her palms to control herself and not take his hand and push it forcefully between her legs.

Iris kissed him again and her hands started to wander on his lean chest. She grazed her fingertips on the barely there trail of hair on his soft tummy and she heard him take a sharp intake of breath when her fingertips started toying with the string of his sweatpants.

She untied it and then looked him in the eyes.

Another thunder rattled the windows.

He looked otherwordly with his hair cascading over his shoulders, golden eyes and lips slightly agape.

She wanted him to absolutely unravel her. And she was ready to beg him for it.

His hands grabbed hers and put them on his hips, signaling to her that she could take off his joggers.

Iris didn't need to be told twice and she did it, slowly.

When she accidentally brushed the elastic of his joggers on his clothed crotch, she felt him gasp and his grip on her hips tightened.

She hoped he left bruises there.

She quickly apologised, letting go of the fabric that pooled at his ankles.

Now he was standing in front of her in just his black boxers, that were growing too tight for him every passing second.

He discarded his joggers quickly and then grabbed her jaw making her stare land forcefully in his eyes.

Iris didn't expect it.

It was such a dominant gesture that she was sure wetness was starting to leak from her panties, ruining the couch underneath.

"You don't remember, do you?" He whispered practically on her lips.

"I told you that I didn't want to hear those words," he growled.

She felt bold and held eye contact with him, defying him.

"Or else? What are you going to do about it?" Iris whispered back in a sultry tone.

His grip tightened, his thumb started stroking her bottom lip and he chuckled.

"I really didn't think you could be a little devil like this. What a surprise. Fuck, you are making me even harder." He whispered and bit her neck sharply.

In that moment, she grabbed his wrist and pushed his thumb, that was resting on her bottom lip, right inside the warmth of her mouth.

A lightning illuminated her actions and his features.

He seemed on the verge of bending her over his desk and fuck her until she couldn't remember her name.

She bit down on the pad of his thumb and he growled.

"You should stop this right now if you don't want me to turn you around and absolutely rail you on this very couch until we have to start with rehabilitation all over again." He threatened, but she couldn't shut her mouth so she answered him, brushing her lips on his neck and biting his lobe.

"What if that's exactly what I want?" She answered him with a mischievous edge in her voice.

"Fuck, Iris, where have you been all this time?" He groaned.

His actions were sweet again.

He grabbed her face tenderly and kissed her slowly.

The rain outside was pouring like a flood, making them feel completely isolated in that room.

"I want you to answer me truthfully, do you really want this?" He watched her intensely in the eyes.

She almost sobbed at his words. She had been dreaming about this moment since the day she met him and she didn't think she could survive a second more without him.

"I really want this Jake. I have been dreaming about it for so long. I lost count of how many times I had to touch myself thinking about you and your hands on me, trying to ease the tension I was experiencing. It was just too much." She added embarrassed.

"You don't know what you do to me" he said chuckling, leaning his forehead against hers.

"That night after we kissed, I couldn't even get home. I had to pull over the driveway half way through the journey home. You got me so hard in that hospital room that I had to sit in my car stroking my cock like a pervert because I couldn't focus on my driving. The pain was unbearable and I had to find some release. It was too much. I didn't even make it to my house because of you." He confessed, his face heating.

The image that was playing in her mind of him stroking his hard cock in his car, fogged windows and everything, would be burned forever in her brain.

"Can I?" He asked her without breath, fingers grazing on the clasp of her bra.

"Yes, please" she told him and he moved forward between her parted legs, grinding his still clothed crotch onto hers and making her gasp at the sensation, while biting her shoulder.

The bra abandoned Iris in a second, exposing her already hardened nipples to him.

He paid diligent attention to them, bringing them into his mouth and making her squirm under his touch.

God it was the best torture ever.

Her hands went into his hair and stayed there, tugging it and making him groan onto her skin.

His hips kept grinding onto hers until it was too much for the both of them.

He stopped and spoke.

"I can't take this any longer I just need to feel you." He said into the skin of her neck.

"I need you. Please, Jake. Let me have you" she begged him, sounding on the verge of tears.

She kissed him again and bit his bottom lip lightly, making him groan.

The reality of what was going to happen downed onto her and she tensed.

He noticed.

He grabbed her shoulders gently and asked her about it.

"Hey there, Iris. What's wrong?"

When she couldn't meet his gaze, he lifted her chin softly, to look into her eyes.

"It's just…" she trailed off and blushed.

"I- I have…" she tried to formulate a sentence but her words kept tangling into her brain.

She started stuttering a little because she didn't know how to tell him.

"Calm down, no need to be nervous around me" he said stroking her cheek with a sweet smile.

Iris took a deep breath and spoke.

"It's been a lot since I last was with anyone like this," she gestured with her trembling hands between the two of them, her eyes not meeting his.

"And I always had terrible experiences, for that matter. All I ever felt was pain." She confessed, hiding her face behind her hands, with a groan.

Just the thought of it brought back bad memories and a little lonely tear started its journey down her cheek.

He gently lifted her face to look into her eyes.

He was studying her face with a pained expression.

He brushed away that lonely tear and kissed her.

He was so sweet he almost didn't feel real.

He broke away from her and spoke, looking her in the eyes.

"I am really sorry to hear this, Iris. I firmly believe that some people should never be allowed near a woman's body." He said, stroking her cheek.

"If you still want this I can promise you that I am going to be gentle, but please don't feel like you have to do it, ok? I don't want to push you and make you do something you don't want," He told her, sweetly, cradling her face with his warm hands.

Iris kissed him again.

"I really want this, Jake. Make me forget about those awful experiences, please," she whispered onto his lips.

He smirked at her words

"It'll be a real pleasure, darling." He purred into her ear, making goosebumps raise on her skin.

The storm was raging outside, the wind was howling and the rain was hitting the windows in full force.

With that sentence, he started kissing her breasts again, lightly nibbling at her skin and eliciting soft mewls from her.

Then, his lips trailed lower, making the air catch in her throat.

He knelt in front of her, grabbed the ankle of her non-injured leg and placed her foot on the side of the couch exposing her to him.

He growled a low "Fuck, Iris" seeing how wet she was. She knew it showed through her panties, she could feel it, too.

He stroked his thumb on the wet fabric and bit the underside of her thigh at the same time.

It was too much teasing for her.

She was about to explode.

In a second, he was again eye level with her still stroking her lightly through her panties.

"What do you need? Show me." He almost moaned in her mouth.

Iris grabbed his wrist and unceremoniously pushed his hand inside her panties.

She didn't care if she looked desperate.

They gasped at the same time and she had to lean her forehead onto his shoulder not to fall from the couch.

"Oh God, Jake." she moaned breathlessly.

His fingers dragged her panties down her legs, slowly discarding them on the floor and he started touching her delicately.

His hot fingers stroked lightly on her slit and she were panting already.

"So wet for me." He whispered and she whimpered.

His thumb rubbed on her clit and she kissed him again to stop her moans. He continued his torture by biting and sucking on her breasts, making her hands fly to his hair, gripping him hard to keep him close to her.

His fingers kept a steady pace between her legs and she mentally thanked the storm for muffling the unholy drenched sounds of his fingers.

Suddenly, he stopped.

She whined at the loss of contact but he silenced her quickly with his mouth on hers.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?" He whispered into her ear and her jaw almost dropped to the floor.

She told him a sheepish no and he smirked.

"Not even when you are all alone touching yourself?" He asked further.

She shook her head no, embarrassed.

"Do you want to?" He asked smugly.

This time she simply nodded, unable to utter a single sound.

His hand came in contact with her core once again and he collected some of her arousal then brought his fingers to her lips and spread it across them like it was a lip gloss.

"Open up for me," he commanded and she obliged.

He pushed his fingers in her mouth delicately and she started sucking on them before he even told her to do it.

Iris moaned his name around them and saw something snap in him, the muscle of his jaw clenching.

He pulled them out and kissed her breathlessly, tasting her in the process and humming.

He didn't waste time, he dropped to his knees right in front of her drenched pussy.

"Are you ok with this, Iris?" He asked in a strained tone.

It was taking all he had to restrain himself from delving right in.

"Please, Jake." She told him through clenched teeth.

He winked at her from down there, wetting his lips slowly for her to see. Then he grabbed her ass, dragging her to the edge of the couch to have better access. He placed her left foot on his shoulder, brought both of his hands to her, spreading her lower lips open with his thumbs and delivered a broad slow lick of his hot tongue flat on her.

She screamed, pushing her head backwards at the same time of a booming thunder and immediately clamped her left hand on her mouth.

The right one was holding her up from behind her for dear life.

He stopped and grabbed her left arm, making her drop the hand from her mouth.

Holding a devilish eye contact, he put her hand on his head and she immediately started stroking his soft hair.

"Please, let me hear you, I don't want you to hold back. Your hand needs to stay here, ok? You can pull my hair as much as you want but, please, don't put this hand on your mouth." He begged her and she shivered.

She nodded, unable to speak and he dived back in, this time pointing his tongue and attacking her clit with rapid strokes.

When he sucked on it, Iris was done.

She pushed her hand to the back of his neck keeping him there and, between labored breaths, she whispered his name over and over again, while he kept licking at her skin through it. Her body bent forward and he steadied her with hands on her hips.

When she started squirming away from his mouth, he moved his mouth from her center and sucked a mark on the skin of her inner thigh, letting her catch her breath.

After a while, she was still panting and her legs were still shaking, but she looked down and she was ready to start it all over again.

He looked absolutely indecent with disheveled hair sticking onto his forehead, his nose, mouth and chin shining because of her with every bolt of lightning and a proud smirk on his plush lips.

Iris knew what was coming even before he started speaking.

"Ready for round two?" He asked, licking his lips, voice hoarse and eyes burning.

This man is going to kill me.

Before she could gather the courage to answer, he delivered a sharp suck on her clit, making her hiss.

She whimpered a light "yes" and his mouth was on her, again.

Both of her hands were behind her, steading her, granting him full control.

Her eyes were trained on him and she saw his hand sneak into his boxers, making him hiss sharply against her.

She noticed how his arm started a low steady rhythm on himself.

He was touching himself, while eating her out.

It was undeniably sexy and so dirty.

And then, abruptly, everything stopped.

_______________________________________

Next chapter

Taglist:

@why-ami-on-here @hellowgoodbye @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @jessicafg03 @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @doodle417

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #fanfic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader

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ficfanatictrf · 1 year

Text

The Night Stand (Part 4)

Summary : The conversation that should have happened soon (and another cliff hanger - I'M SORRY)

Warnings : An argument, cliffhanger (sorry)

Edited and proofread by nobody - just going for it!

Word Count: 2.3K

Jayce stared down at the multiple test results from the baby. Anxiety gripped deep in his stomach as he researched what all of this could mean.

He had told you so many times to not worry, to let the Doctor tell you when something needed to be done. However, that wasn’t the whole truth of it.

As he looked at the symptoms and results from the tests, matching them to what he could find in medical journals and books - he figured he was probably facing the same dilemma that the Doctor had been facing.

With a heavy sigh, allowing his head to fall into his hands as he wished he knew what to do - he didn’t notice the footsteps coming up behind him till he heard his partner’s voice from right above him.

“I wasn’t aware that you and Ms. Medarda were trying to start a family”

Bolting upright, he hastily tried to pull all the scattered tests together to try and hide it - yet Viktor’s expert fingers found one of them rather easily and snatched it off the desk before he had a chance to get rid of it.

“6 weeks old. I assume that means the night of the gala? The two of you did retire for the evening rather early” The man teased, holding the paper out of reach as Jayce went to snatch it.

Jayce could only panic as Viktor actually started to inspect the results that had been on the paper. At first, it went from a gentle smirk, it always being present when he was playfully teasing his partner, to the smirk dropping as he took in just what the recent test had found.

However, he wasn’t expecting the frown to quickly shift to near panic, being rather rough as he pushed Jayce harshly away from the other results as the smaller man was ripping through every test.

“This couldn’t possibly be Ms. Medarda. This is…” He trailed off, seeming to find the exact test that he had been looking for but hoping that he wouldn’t see.

“Jayce, I need you to be truthful with me.” He started, his eyes finally moving away from the papers before him to look over at his partner.

“Who’s test results are these?”

—----- —----- —-----

You watched as the man was soon beginning to pace before you, it was clear that he was wrestling with how he wanted to start this discussion.

You had never seen him like this before, panicked and angry, as well as many other emotions that would come and pass as it was replaced with another intense one.

And even though he opened his mouth to start speaking many times, it always closed moments later as he deemed whatever he was going to say as not the right way he wanted to start this conversation.

“…I didn’t mean to hide it from you- I just, I never knew how to tell you.”

Your voice had been but a soft whisper, but still with how Viktor immediately stopped his pacing to face you - it was the same reaction that you would have received if you had screamed.

“You should have told me the moment you knew!”

His voice raised higher than you had ever had before, yet from the break in his voice as he screamed you could tell that this was not from anger but from something else.

“The doctors here don’t know a thing about Undercity illnesses! In fact, who are you seeing?!”

A hand came up to grip at his hair, nearly pulling it out in panic as thought after thought was soon rushing through his mind. Lists were racing through his mind on what he needed to talk about next, what he needed to show you next, do next.

“Scratch that. Just - I’ll ask around, see who would be the best to talk to regarding it” He muttered, suddenly turning to head towards his own desk to open a drawer that you had hardly ever seen him using before.

In a matter of moments, the man had scooped up all the contents of the drawer and placed it onto the desks surface. Hands shuffling through everything that he had to place them into piles.

“The Undercity is not as careful when it comes to medical history, but I tried to fill in as many of the blanks in my family’s medical history as I could. This will help to screen for a few known inheritable diseases.”

Pulling out a handful of papers, he set those down on the chair beside him. Which, as he continued to speak, you slowly made your way to stand with him.

“After all, Fathers statistically pass on 50% more of their structural variants to their children than a mother does. It is likely that something from my genes is what is causing our child to be having so many medical issues…”

The hasty speed that he had been moving about before slowed to a stop, the man’s eyes seemed to become unfocused as his mind raced after a thought. You could see it, the same guilt in his eyes was there as when he talked about those in the undercity - the feeling that he was the cause of their suffering, that he wasn’t doing enough.

Yet, before you could start to try and comfort him - it would appear that Viktor pushed himself to move on.

You were surprised as he opened the drawer above the one he had emptied, pulling out bottle after bottle of different pills as well as throwing papers here and there to find the one that he was looking for.

“I did as much research as I could on the subject, creating a detailed plan on when you should take everything in this regime.” He went into detail over every single vitamin and supplement, showing that the paper he had also went into detail on why you would need to take each of these medications.

Viktor had clearly spent hours and hours on this, though it was the back of the paper that really surprised you.

His writing was cramped, clear that he had tried to fit as much information onto the sheet as he possibly could.

No cold deli meat No soft cheese Must sleep on your back No hot baths No caffeine Brush teeth more often, mother’s teeth more susceptible to plague

And on and on and on it went.

“… I haven’t explained anything the way I should have…forgive me. Let me start again.”

Viktor’s voice was soft as it pulled your eyes away from the page that you were grasping in your hands.

“ I was able to see one of the results as Jayce was looking at it. At first, I was teasing that he and Ms. Merdada would have…but the readings were far too similar to…to my own”

With but a glance, he was able to find the very two documents that he was referring to. One was clearly much older and made with a lesser quality paper and ink, worn from how many times it must have been in someone’s hands.

Yet, as he handed the documents over, you could still see how the odd trends that your child was having were identical to what you could only assume were Viktor’s own medical charts.

“F-From how old the child must be, 6 weeks at the time but we are closer to 7 weeks now. That was when…I…”

“…yes, our one night stand…”

You finished, seeing how he just wasn’t able to finish the words. Cringing at your wording, the man merely nodded before gesturing nervously at all the papers and medications that he had accumulated.

“All of this information is yours. Whatever you need from me, I’ll handle it. As well as the money-”

His eyes widened, turning to rifle through his satchel. It took but a moment, but from the small box that he pulled out - you were rather confused why this box had been linked to whatever he had been talking about.

“I looked up the general amount, with it based on income as well as…the health issues- I wanted to give as much as I thought appropriate.”

As you opened the box, you felt your heart stop.

“My calculations came to roughly a little over one hundred thousand a year. Yet, that didn’t seem to be enough to me, not for something like this. So I, well, I increased the amount to fifty thousand a month. Inside that, you will find a hundred thousand. Not only for the month and a half that has passed but also because…of my negligence and stupidity.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“I admit, that night I had been thoroughly sloshed. But that is no excuse for…you were far more intoxicated than I and I shouldn’t have…you were not able to give consent- I am to blame for all of this.”

You could hardly believe what you were hearing.

You tried to reach out for him, to watch as he quickly stepped away from your touch like it burned. All the while, he was right back to not looking you in the eyes like he had been since that night together.

“I will provide anything you need. I will provide monthly payments of fifty thousand, as well any medical costs you or the child need. As well as money for housing, if you need it - and childcare.”

“You make it sound like you plan on not being in the child’s life…”

At first, you had believed that he would deny the accusation. Yet, as the silence stretched longer and longer between the two of you- the answer was crystal clear.

“How can you just throw away your child like this?”

“You wouldn’t understand-”

“I won’t understand unless you explain it. This is your child, neither of us wanted this to be the result….but wouldn’t you want to be in their life?”

“No! No, I can hardly think of anything that could be worse.” He stressed, a hand coming up to run roughly through his hair. Yet, in your own heartbreak, you didn’t notice the way he hastily wiped away the moisture slipping down his cheeks.

“Everything will be better this way. Your life, the baby’s life…. Everything”

Did he intentionally leave himself out? You weren’t sure, but you weren’t able to ask him about the wording as he had used your moment of shock to slip from the room - escaping before he said anything more on the subject.

Before he hurt you even more.

—----- —----- —-----

Things were odd after that day.

Viktor was still rather distant when it came to talking to you directly. But you would find pages and pages of notes and letters in your desk every time you seemed to walk away for a moment.

Where Jayce was constantly making sure you weren’t physically or mentally straining yourself, Viktor was one of the worst naggers you had ever met in your life. Constantly you had notes on his review of what you had eaten, more information about pregnancies as well as questions on if you had any odd cravings.

‘No matter what you may believe in the moment, if you find yourself having the desire to ingest chalk, you must not actually eat it. My mother craved chalk for nearly three months before I was born. Father said he had to constantly check to make sure that Mother didn’t smuggle the substance.’

You adored these little stories that he shared.

And yet, he still refused to talk to you.

—----- —----- —-----

The notes and letters had only lasted for a week, the amount of them quickly tapering off till you didn’t find anything at all.

Once more Viktor wasn’t speaking a word to you.

Any information he felt he needed to send you about the baby was sent to Jayce, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of talking to you face to face.

Everything felt like it was over for you.

You hadn’t even realized it at the time, but there had been a sliver of hope that if Viktor knew then he would have at least talked to you more. That he would have claimed the child as his own, that he would have wanted to be its father.

Yet, as you packed up your things for the day, trying once more to talk to him…only for him to blatantly ignore you. The embarrassment of standing before Viktor’s desk as he continued to work like you weren’t there - the other people in the lab glancing your way with pity as Viktor didn’t even so much as glance up at you.

You felt the last bit of hope in you, finally die.

What was even the point anymore about any of this?

Silently, you slipped a small piece of paper into Jayce’s desk.

Your resignation.

You would disappear, start a new life somewhere else. The city was huge, meaning that it wouldn’t be that hard to find some hole in the wall to work. It would be you and the little one.

Your eyes moved down to your stomach, which had still not begun to show any signs - yet somehow you just knew that they were there.

A precious little being that would be with you. Someone who needed you, someone who wouldn’t push you away.

Walking back to your apartment, you had made it halfway before you felt a sharp pain starting from your stomach before shooting up the back of your spine.

A wave of fatigue hit you like a bus, finding yourself sinking to your knees as you struggled to keep your food down from the waves of nausea that were rolling through you.

Everything had happened so fast, your mind only recognizing someone’s face - a stranger, before you were being moved, before then being in a completely different location.

There was shouting, people running in and out of your area of vision, and yet you couldn’t manage to feel anything other than tired.

You were so exhausted, so sleepy.

Letting your eyes close, you could hear off in the distance someone you didn’t recognize yelling for you to stay away.

But honestly, you just didn’t want to.

—----- —----- —-----

Taglist : @piperdoodles @gabrielle-was-here @twisted-carnival-creature @cheeriecherrymain @thehistoriangirl @vmyths

#arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #viktor x reader #viktor x reader arcane #viktor x y/n #viktor x you #viktor #arcane x reader #arcane angst #The Night Stand

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jencsi · 3 months

Text

A broody D.B Russell is a mood-

Straightened hair, it's been this way for months, even before we got here, I wondered why you did it, is it for him? Were you bored of the curls? You look better with them.

The doctors keep telling me it's not wise to have two people wasting away here. I disagree.

We messed up Jules, I messed up.

I don’t think you hate me, I know you hate me.

Julie Finlay, born March 20th, 1968, in Philadelphia Pennsylvania. “In west Philadelphia born and raised...” Okay I’m sorry, I know you hate that song.

Blue eyes, blonde hair, 5’3, a mirror image of Catherine Willows no less.

Thirty-five bruises, twenty two percent blood loss, a dozen staples, fifteen stitches, two transfusions, one scar across your forehead, the chunk of skull they fixed won’t show, so they say, drains, tubes, breathing on your own is a good thing, they can shock hearts, why not brains back to life?

Monthly charge- $2500. Interest- $800. Paid in full- March 15th 2015. Invoice complete. Receipt sent to Diebenkorn Russell. Card ending in 4879.

I met Jules in May of 1994, Charlie wasn’t even born yet, can you believe that kiddo?

Your eyes responded to light today, I could have swore your arm moved when they did it but the nurse didn’t see it. She must think I’m crazy.

Power of attorney file, client confidentiality, password protect, BloodGirl528, crap, no, it’s Agnes, there we go, please advise, December 2014, in the event of a life-threatening injury, please refer all medical decisions to one Diebenkorn Russell and his wife Barbara, Las Vegas Nevada. You knew before I did Jules.

“Baby if I could, change the world” You are the sunlight in my universe” damn this Clapton guy.

Las Vegas reached a near record high of 95 today. That high pressure system will remain in place for the rest of the week. Folks, be sure to stay hydrated out there.

Grandpa, when is Aunt Julie coming back from her trip? I need to tell her a secret.

Invoice complete. Payment received April 15th 2015. Card ending in 4879.

A fever, you spiked a fever today, low grade, 100.1. April 20th 2015. Could be nothing, could be something.

They had a funeral for Dan up in Seattle. I felt bad because none of us could be there for him but Kerri’s still healing, you’re here, I’m here…

One of the nurses had a birthday, they got pizza for her, I figured if you could smell it from down the hall, maybe you would wake up.

She wouldn’t want to stay like this forever. How do you know what she wants? Me? What about you? What makes you so sure? Do you think you know her better than you know me?

We are gathered here today, no that sounds like a wedding speech, damn, none of us want to gather for this….

Stop.

D.B, you have a phone call, it's Ely State, they want to talk to you about the court date for Winthrop’s trial. “I’m not taking the stand Conrad, and we’re not presenting a single shred of our evidence unless Jules is with us, make the bastard wait in state pen a little while longer.”

“Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones” Proverbs 16:24.

“I guess I can put two and two together. "Sometimes the answer's four," I said, "and sometimes it's twenty-two...”

Stan’s Floral’s. Sunset Blvd. 702-......

The judge isn’t going to extend the waiting period any longer, he says I need to be ready to present my findings by May twentieth with or without a blood spatter expert.

“I’ll be ready,” she rasps to him jokingly, eyes bright, smile meek but present "four days, that’s plenty of time.”

“Coma notwithstanding,” he bites back, soul on fire, fingers on her wrist, feeling her pulse, needing to be sure she was palpable, alive.

Boy did he miss this.

#db russell #julie finlay #just thoughts I can't get out into a full fic #ramblings #post coma things #csi cbs #writing #its getting better #but still not where I want it to be

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panzershrike-pretz · 6 months

Text

Lanterns

Part 3

Disclaimer: i'm well aware that some of the characters mentioned (namely the peculiar bunch) are originally from another work, Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children. When I "made" them, I was only a child who didn't know how to do much besides very poorly made fanfic - but with time, I grew more attached to them and as I understood how to create characters, i just couldn't bring myself to abandon them; so I kept them. I changed a lot since then and they did too as mine. Please, do keep it in mind if you're familiar with the MPHFPC series - if I decided to put this as a disclaimer it's because I care. I won't stand being accused of stealing characters.

Summary: A Goddess who lost her faith, trying to get back to her senses so her family doesn't fall apart.

Warning: death threats and I think it's about it??

Taglist: @malarkgirlypop, @bucky32557038ww2, @xxluckystrike (if you want in or out, just tell me!)

-> Image below found here.

The chit chat tha filled Blithe was soothing. It was home, after all, with all it's peculiarity and strange inhabitants. The ship was old; when Athena first stole her, she was a decrept little thing, abandoned in a port somewhere along the Portuguese coast - and the Goddess made it her own.

She was the one who found every member of the crew. The one who kept them together in the beginning, before everyone truly got along - instead of wanting to kill each other.

The first members of her crew were Sirius, Hydra and Rodion. The three of them lived together in a small house; two siblings and their cousin. She didn't have a hard time convincing them to join - they eagerly wanted to leave their old lives behind. Just like that, Athena found herself with an extremely talented navigator, Sirius; a loyal boatswain, Rodion; and a good wanna-be doctor and potion expert, Hydra.

Somewhere along the line, she found Michael, a sweet Lycanthrope eager to be accepted somewhere, for once in his life. He wasn't able to turn down the position of cook.

After him, came Darty. They were a massive sight to behold; with long wavy hair and pretty eyes, a beautiful smile. They liked to sit around and play music, to keep spirits up during long days lost at sea, under the scorching sun. At night, the crew likes to sit around them, hearing their songs and dancing about, to pass time.

After that, Athena came across an interesting bunch; they called themselves Peculiars. She remembered how her crew was captured and schedule to meet the gallows - and then those kids came out of nowhere, causing a rockus that let them escape the hands (and guns) of the Royal Navy. She gadly took them in; cabin boys and girls that would bring Blithe even more life with their energy - it was different from how the Gods acted, they were mortal after all and wouldn't mind living each day to their fullest.

Hugh and Fiona where inseparable; the bee boy and flower girl. They were always together, like shadows; he was the only person with whom she'd speak, in german, and he'd gladly translate it out. Nothing could stand between them.

Then Emma, a withy, red-headed pyrocinetic girl, full of stupid courage and a big ego. She was a leader and it showed; the person who kept them together and pushed them forward during hard times.

Brownyn was like a mom. She had strenght - no, really, that was her whole thing. She prided herself in helping or protecting others and keeping her eyes on the two youngest: Claire and Olive.

Then Millard, the invisible boy, who initially followed Hydra's every step. He was a joke, really, being a walking Encyclopedia of knowledge. Sometimes, he could be found near Natasha, the light-eater, and Juni, who had an amazing hearing.

After then, came Seamus, Dean and Pangey (who dragged Peggy along, much for the dogs delight). They were somewhere in the army during World War 2 - but Athena couldn't care less for what they did.

The two last of that bunch where Horace and Enoch. Two boys who would not stop bitchin' about everything; especially cranky ol' En, who found himself adopting Olive as a younger sister and then being both adopted by Rodion as his children.

There was Wolfgang, a quiet man who ran away from prison and made his home in the middle of that strange bunch. The crew met him around the same tine they met Theodore, Archie and Toby - the trio almost never came along with the ship, but they were a part of Blithe all the same.

She only knew that when Sam stepped away from his Captain deal, he immediately found himself being the ship's Master Gunner - no one would be better suited to take care of Blithe's artillery anyway. Sometimes the crew fells like he's the one truly in charge.

Dean, Sam's own personal shadow, prided himself on his vision and precision; the man was a sniper and kept his own title when he became part of the crew. Athena felt like if the man had enough beers and guns, he could rip through basically everything - courage and dumbassery were two things he had too much of.

Last of the three, Pangey or Pangea. She kept to herself, most of the time, rarely comming out of her shell - but always there to help. When she came, Hydra wasn't all that happy to share her medical position, but the two quickly got along, like mother and daughter.

Finally, Jeremy. The Captain. The man that once tried to hang Athena was now the one who leaded her ship. She lived for the drama. Which was all she was about to get.

"ENOCH JAMES O'CONNOR, MAKE THAT THING PUT MY DOG DOWN, WILL YA?", Pangey snapped, making the First Mate look down from her crow's nest, curious, both wings open at her side; if things got out of hand, she could just sweep down and shove one of them into the icy water.

Peggy was hanging in the air, smilling and wagging her whole body, not smart enough to get that she was dangling just above the ocean. In the mouth of a monster, no less.

"Wha'? They're playin'! Look at 'er, she's lovin' it!"

"Don't you make me shove your face down a barrell of rum! Make your... thing... get off of her!" The woman was angry. Actually, it looked like it was the angrier she's ever been. And it amused Enoch. "Lis'en here, ye bri'ish shmuck, release my fucking dog or I'll gadly put a hole through your brain!"

"He doesn't have one!", Hugh laughed, getting a death glare from the boy. "What? Am I lying, Enoch?"

Enoch scoffed, trying to make it look like he wasn't offended. The thing Pangey was mad about was Pax, his not-so-little companion. It was a big monster, to be fair, whith dozens of tongues and sharp teeth, loads of eyes and a not really friendly face either - he resembled somewhat a two-headed calf. And, to make things worse, he was invisible to most people aboard Blithe, safe from Enoch himself and Athena.

It was typically a monster that'd gladly kill everyone on that ship, but Enoch was certain he had that thing under control; looking at it now, with Peggy dangling in the air, Pangey couldn't bring herself to believe him.

"Speak to it. Make it put my dog back on the ship."

"Whyyyy? He isn't hurting her!"

"ENOCH, I WILL HURT YOU!" And she was yelling again, fighting the thought of grabbing her pistol and ending him here and now. She usually hated using firearms, but carried one anyway for self-defense since the war. And she usually refrained from hirting people, but Enoch was getting on her nerves and playing with her precious baby. She was about to go ballistic.

"Enoch, listen to Pangea", Seamus said, standing against the main mast. "Don't you think you got enough threats by now, emo bitch?"

He looked over at the man, startled. He didn't think he was watching and, well, Enoch usually kept his annoyance to himself near the guy. Seamus frightened him. Finally, he decided to stop Pax's plan of maybe dumping Peggy in the ocean.

Stop. Down., was really all he needed to do for the beast to let go of Pegs, who looked very happy to be on her feet again. She looked behind her, to where she knew was her big and scary friend. Why am I back? Weren't we playing?

Pax growled, sitting and letting his tongues wander off again, messing with the dogs fur. She quickly got in a playfull stance and both of them ran off - obviously, every one of Pax's steps felt like the ship was gonna break in two.

Pangey crossed her arms, staring down at Enoch. "Don't you have anything to tell me?"

"Like what?", he shook his shoulders. "I'm not sorry for anything, it's not my fault they were playing!"

"Oh, really? Because I think that not doin' anything about my dog being held up above the icy ocean by a killing machine that only you can give instructions to is something you should be really sorry for!"

"Cut it, you two", Sam interveined again, putting himself between the two. "Enoch, fuck off, please?"

"Ugh... fine!", he stomped his way onto one of the lower decks, fumming as he went. Like a spoilled little brat.

"I can't stand him anymore", Pan let out, now focused on her friend. "We've been stuck together for too long."

"No one can stand him", corrected Sam, a little more playful. "Cheer up, it's almost Holiday season. Maybe we can light him on fire."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

---------------------------

It didn't take more than one or two days for Dean, sitting on watch, to yell about land. No one besides him could see it yet, but Sirius was happy to keep Blithe's course. She creaked as the waves hit her side, being compelled forward by the wind on her sails. She was a good ship - or, and everyone would die on this hill, the best one to ever set sail.

The bay in which she sled to was awfully familiar and as she anchored beside some small fishing boats, her crew made all the needed preparations to step on land and finally acess the damage on her side, which slowly but surely was letting enough water in that she was even more tilted to the side.

"Hmmm, this place smells so good!", Hydra was jumping up and down in place, looking at the town in front of her. It was a fishing village somewhere along the state of Amapá, just south of the French Guiana. Hydra was right about the smell; it came from the foodstands along the shore - and she was happily one of the first to make her way towards it when the gangplank was lowered.

"Alright, there's a hole on the bow and it'll need fixing. Rodion, you come with me so we can find some locals and get materials. Athena, you'll come too; we need a good enough translator", Jeremy was firm, eyeing her up so she wouldn't sneak away. "Sam, you're in charge. Get these guys working on gathering more food and water. Remember, no stealing this time; or the locals won't be of any help."

"Yes, sir!", Seamus was quick and went right to work as the three went in search of some help. He gathered the crew, assigning each of them with their tasks for the day - some would get food, others water, medicine, new blankets and cloth. He figured Fiona would be of use gathering fruits and vegetables, seeing as they were on land.

With everything sorted, he turned to supervising the deeds - apart from going up the mast to see if Brownyn was doing alright with the sails. He wasn't exactly fond of the altitude.

Lady Blithe was enormous in comparision to the other ships in the bay - and her black sails and pirate flag, with a crow's skull engraved on it, made a lot of heads turn her way, curious. That village was probably never visited by pirates, as they didn't sound any church bells to warn the people of incoming danger. Still, whatever authorities in the town where alert; it could be a trap, for all they knew.

Blithe and her crew didn't mind the stares. They were indeed strangers who didn't speak the native language, for Gods' sake. The stories told talk of bloodthirsty monsters firing cannonballs all over, burning whole cities to the ground in search of goods soon-to-be stolen. What the locals found was nothing like that.

Hydra couldn't help but notice the small little decorations here and there as she walked, not knowing anymore what was her original task. The houses had vases filled with red roses, orchids, horehounds, fire lilies and arum lilies. She smiled. Those were her flowers.

A few years ago she came to conclude that most people didn't really believe in her anymore - or on the other Gods, for that matter. They had newer, better ones. She spent so long drifting away on the sea that she was disconnected from the mortals; it was with it in mind that she made her way inside a little temple made for her.

Hydra hated her role when she was a kid. She always wanted to be normal, like her cousins - which child would like to have their career all planned out? She cursed Imbatwa, Ozymandias and all the Gods she could muster the name off. She didn't want to be know, to be important or to be some kind of role model.

What kind of Family Goddess she would be, if hers was a comically large mess? What kind of Marriage Goddess was she, if every one of her relationships ended badly? Her own child didn't really like her, so how could she be the symbol of motherhood and childbirth? It was only right for her to run away from all that and live amongst a crew of other people just as broken as her.

Some of them were also Gods who had rotten in their own minds. That was the thing that got them together in the first place. If the Goddess of Death and Feeedom, of all things, wasn't cursed to be forever chained to the ocean, nothing would be the same.

"Your Highness came to pay us a visit...? Give us your blessing...?", some old woman stood beside one of the back doors, wearing the garments of a priest. She didn't seem impressed in seeing the Goddess herself stand in the middle of her church.

She felt strange staring at the depiction of herself at the back of the temple. It was a scarlet ibis with open wings, to gladly take in those in need.

Some people would go all their lives without a single bit of recognition, while she had temples and statues and holidays made for her just because... she was born. It always felt wrong. The Godhood thing. Like it was a piece of clothing that didn't quite fit.

"Oh. I didn't see you there..." Hydra was saying, ready to go away, but she simply couldn't bring herself to.

"You are a troubled one, child"

Child? Granted that woman looked like she had some good 70 years, but Hydra was older. Why was she being called a child?

"I heard your steps and thought it was one of the villagers, not the One for whom this temple was built". She still stood there, curious as to what in the world was Hydra doing. "People usually come to me for help. What can I do for you, my Goddess?"

"Hydra. My name is Hydra. Please... please, use it."

"As you wish."

Both of them stared into each others eyes. Hydra felt compelled to start talking, but she didn't. Originally, when she was in a temple, it was to listen to others and not herself.

"We missed you, dear", the elder said as she got closer, leaning on a cane to help her stand. "We've been having a couple of rough years since you left".

Since I left to sea and started ignoring you, Hydra couldn't stop that train of thought, feeling some kind of guilt. She couldn't lie to anyone: she ran away so she didn't need to heed to her responsabilities.

"We won't blame you", the elder added, as if reading Hydra's mind. "Gods are trapped in their jobs, liking it or not. The ship in the harbor is what brings peace to you lot, isn't it?"

"Hum... yeah. She does."

"Then you shouldn't feel guilty for how us, mortals, handle ourselves."

"Are you giving me a life lesson?", Hydra inclined her head a bit.

"It depends. Do you need one?"

She didn't immediately answer, caught off guard by that priest. "How may I call you?"

"Maria de Lurdes", was the answer. "But I won't mind anything you desire to call me, my Godde- uh... Hydra."

Hydra made her way to the stained glass, depicting amazing stories that run wild. She could only make up Blithe's blurry sillouete from afar. "Why didn't you ring the bells?"

"You weren't gonna hurt us."

"How could you be so sure?" Hydra turned her head a bit, just enough to see the woman from the side of her eye. "We had sails full dressed and the flag blowing."

"Yes. The black flag, not a red one." Maria sat on one of the benches, tired. "The black Jolly Roger means lives will be spared if there's surrender... the red one, well..."

She was right. And both of them also knew that a ship so tilted it was almost rolling over was not exactly a good enough vessel to raid a village.

"Anyway, I just felt you wouldn't attack."

"What?"

"I could feel it. I'm a old woman, Miss Hydra, my gut doesn't lie." Maria smiled. "You aren't like normal pirates, are you? I can see it on your face. You guys are just like Robin Hood, right?"

Hydra liked the woman; she was quick to guess things and was almost always right. The Goddess nodded. "Yeah... just like Robin Hood... mostly."

"What will you be doing during your Holiday?"

Hydra stopped. It's been years since she last took part on any celebrations; her friends usually stayed alone partying while she took refuge anywhere quiet. This year she thought would be the same - yes, she celebrated with them the other Holidays, but her own? It was off her schedule.

Apart from her and Sirius' birthday, which she always took part - even if against her will, just for her brother -, the Night of Libero Sanctis was the only other Holiday in her name and she couldn't bring herself to participate. She had lied to herself just enough so she believed that it was a waste of her time. The New Year was better anyway and it was only some days later.

December 28th could be absolutely scrapped off of her calendar.

"I'll stay in bed. Probably reading, I don't have anything else to do", she finally said, the words hung heavy in her tongue.

"Pardon me, but that's bullshit."

"Excuse me?", Hydra turned to Maria, confused. "How so?"

"Not hoving anything else to do. That is bullshit."

The Goddess simply waited, perplexed. That woman had some guts, she had to admit. And, to be fair, Hydra really needed to be beaten with a dead cat 'till it started meowing, so she could come to her senses.

"What about your family?" Maria asked.

"I don't really think they appreciate me being alive, if I may be honest", she spoke carefully, still processing. "Actually, I believe they would be more than happy to receive a letter declaring my death on the 28th."

"Not your blood family, darling. The ship's one."

"Oh."

Hydra felt her wings become tense. Right. Maria was talking about Blithe. She felt so stupid.

"Won't you stay with them?", the elder asked. "My grandkids will come visit me. We'll have a whole celebration here in the temple... what about you?"

"Uh... I guess... it doesn't really matter...?"

"Matters, yes. It should, at the very least."

Hydra kept still as the old woman stood and very slowly made her way to the back of the temple, just to come back some time later holding something.

It was a lantern. One of those that floats when you light it on fire. It had little flame engravings on the side, along with a pretty depiction of a flower. Hydra felt a chill down her spine as she understood - Maria was giving that to her.

"My Goddess, would you be so kind as to light this lantern on your night..?", she asked, bowing her head. "If not for you, then maybe for us?"

Hydra was left speechless for a moment. Then accepted the gift.

"I'll think about it, miss Lurdes."

She turned to go, feeling like it was already late - and soon enough someone would be at her tail nagging her about not doing her assigned tasks. As she went, she heard the woman pray:

"May all the Gods stand by you."

Hydra smiled a little. They already stood - or at least the ones that really mattered to her did.

"Same for you, lady."

---------------------------

#meet Blithe's crew!#and Peggy getting herself into situations xD #oc #original story #🥨🪶

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lightofthemoonglow · 9 months

Text

running up that hill: part four

summary: finally reunited, but it's still not easy

series masterlist

contains: smut

note: it feels obvious, but i'm going to say it. they're speaking spanish for the most part during the Peru segments unless otherwise noted.

cowritten with @deviantdrkate

i. good god, let me give you my life (June 2000)

It’s nearly summer, the time of year when modest cardigans and thick pantyhose are discarded in favor of short sleeves and bare legs. Elena had been feeling bold that morning, so she had chosen to wear short sleeves and a skirt that showed off a bit more leg than usual, though her legs are still clad in thigh-highs, which she knows Herbert will appreciate. Less fumbling, they could get down to business quicker.

Though it seems like there isn’t going to be any ‘business’ today.

“Vee, what’s going on? I get to the chapel and apparently West has been reassigned?”

“The new doctor requested him specifically.” Vanessa offers Elena a mint, which she declines. “He’s kind of cute. Fresh out of med school, apparently. I guess he was highly recommended, so they’re giving him whatever he wants.”

Elena sighs and her hand goes to run through her hair, but her fingers meet the cloth of her veil instead. “I don’t care how cute he is. He can’t just poach my assistant and expect me to be fine with it. And not that it matters, but if he’s just out of med school, he’s a bit too young for my tastes. If I had any.”

The way Vanessa’s eyes twinkle make it clear what she’s thinking, because Vanessa has hinted that she knows something more is going on. She’s not a threat and maybe she’d be a safe person to tell. But Elena knows she needs to be careful and that means not telling a soul, not even her friend. By now, she’s become an expert liar. At least in one area. It just rolls off her tongue and the bitter aftertaste that used to follow isn’t even there anymore.

“Let’s set aside the subject of eye candy. Tell me about school,” Elena says as they near the part of the infirmary where Herbert is.

“It’s going great. Honestly, it’s a lot easier than I thought it would be. By this time next year, I’ll be…somewhere else.” Once she was an RN, rather than the LPN she was now, so many more doors would be open. Classes and work at the prison made for a full plate, but Vanessa had proved she could handle it. And with an actual doctor installed at the prison, things should only be easier. Assistant poaching aside, it’s a cause for celebration.

“That’s great!”

“Are you still going to throw a party to celebrate when you take your final vows?”

“That’s a few months away.” There’s a pause and Elena quickly fills the silence. “But probably, yes.”

Whenever she thinks about that day, it feels like the countdown to some unspecified disaster. Taking her final vows is supposed to be a good thing, she’s been working towards this for a long time. But deep down, it feels wrong. She knows why and she knows that she needs to back out.

But for what? A cruel voice in the back of her mind asks, taunting her with the truth. They don’t have a future, not for a long time. Such a long time away that it might as well not exist. What’s she supposed to do? Just wait for the next decade and a half, at the very least. For all she knew, the warden would find some reason to keep Herbert locked up for longer, and then their best years would be behind them. Or maybe he’d never get out and she would have wasted her entire life on waiting.

The sounds of chaos from down the hall jolts Elena out of her thoughts. There’s yelling, the guards are being whipped into a frenzy even before they open the door just as Elena and Vanessa arrive.

Moses isn’t himself. He’s practically snarling, trying to attack anyone who gets near him. Elena steps in front of Vanessa as the chaos gets too close to them, willing to shield her friend with her body if she had to.

It’s a whirlwind of madness and in the middle of it, her eyes meet Herbert’s and she just knows why this is happening.

Instead of going back to his cell, Herbert goes to the chapel, where he knows she will be waiting.

Elena just stares at him for a moment or two, the silence almost smothering them. She speaks first, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Moses died. Dr. Phillips had some of my reagent.”

“How-?”

Herbert explains the why and how, Elena’s expression going from curiosity to horror to understanding during his tale. It’s mostly things she’s heard before but something about having someone else who was actually there back then makes it feel so much more real.

“So you’re going to get back to your work, aren’t you?”

Though she’s not even sure why she’s asking, because she knows the answer. The work is a part of him, she knows that too. He’s a scientist, no matter what, above everything else. Even a man. And she will be at his side, even if only metaphorically, every step of the way. It’s what she had promised when she had told him that they would part and never be parted, that they would live lifetimes.

“Of course.” Herbert’s tone makes it clear what he thinks of her question. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this?”

“I know, I know. And I want you to but it’s just-“

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course.”

They’re nearly nose to nose, getting defensive over what would seem like nothing to an outsider. But there’s so much running under the surface, tension and fear coming forth to meet the very real possibility that all of this could change.

“I just…don’t want anything bad to happen.” Elena’s voice is tinged with the raw emotion that’s threatening take over.

“What could happen?”

“A lot of things! Like being thrown into super max for the rest of your life. And then I’d never see you again and that would be-“

Herbert doesn’t want to think about that. Or anything but the best possible outcome. So he kisses her instead, sealing his mouth over Elena’s, his tongue shoving its way into her mouth. Now is not the time to think of how it could all go wrong. His hands reach under her skirt, delighting in the feeling of her bare upper thighs, his fingers slipping into her underwear, unable to stop once he started.

“You have no idea what this means, but that’s alright,” he murmurs in her ear as he slips two fingers inside of her, slowly moving them, teasing her as his other hand undoes the first few buttons of her blouse. “This is an extraordinary thing, mein Liebling.” His teeth sink into her neck, breaking skin that would thankfully be hidden by her clothing once it was properly back on.

Seeing the reagent again, after so many years, makes him feel that fire that had burned so brightly when he had been at Miskatonic. That ideal future is closer than it had been this morning. But what matters most is having his work back, the prospect of being back in a lab after so many years making him go into a frenzy. His hands are working quickly, sloppily as the euphoria over finally getting the missing piece of himself back is channeled into the current activity.

It's lucky that Elena brought a bag in today because in Herbert’s frenzy to get her underwear off, he rips them to the point of ruin, tossing the fabric aside as if it were nothing. She’s never seen him like this before. He almost seems possessed, his movements frantic as he maneuvers her onto the floor, nearly tearing her skirt in his eagerness to be inside of her.

“It shouldn’t take long for me to produce a new batch. Once that happens, I’ll begin to integrate it with the new ideas I’ve come up with during my time here and after that…” The shifting of her hips cuts off what he’s about to say next, though Herbert doesn’t stop his movements, which are rough enough that there is going to be carpet burn all over her rear and the back of her thighs, which will pair nicely with the soreness she’ll be feeling later and the bruises in the shape of his fingers all over her thighs and hips.

“Are you sure?” Elena asks, lust nearly slurring her words.

“Yes. And when my work is complete, I want you to be the first.” The thrusts are slowing down, though his grip doesn’t loosen. “You deserve it.” He wants her to be the first recipient of what he sees as a gift. It’s the only way he can tell her just how much she means to him without actually saying those three words.

After all, you would only make someone you love immortal.

“What if I wind up like Moses?” Seeing what could happen makes the bottom of her stomach drop out and she looks at him, eyes wide with concern.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

The rutting begins again, one of his hands moving up her body, stopping at the spot between her collarbones. “Nothing like that will ever happen to you. You will remain perfect.” The merciless rhythm is robbing her of words, but the way she’s looking at him says more than enough.

Those strong, rough fingers wrap around her throat, though there is no pressure. Not yet. Her hands are free, she can push him away. But instead, she reaches up and puts her hand on his, pressing down ever so slightly.

She trusts him more than he thought, and he nods, lightly applying pressure as he continues fucking her into the floor, nearly slamming her head into the pew they had somehow wound up near. “We’ll live lifetimes, you and I. It may take some time, but we will.”

The determination to live up to his promise makes him somehow go even faster, the hand not on her neck going to her clitoris, so she could find her pleasure before he does. Herbert is thinking of the future as his end nears, of more promises he can make. He pictures them outside of these walls, somewhere lush and vibrant, a place for them and no one else. As always, he must pull out and finish himself on her, rather than inside.

As his hands works his cock furiously, he thinks about being able to finish in her, of what could result from that. He knows what could happen, he’s seen the results in nearly every context possible. And yet, the mere idea of doing that to her, of giving her a piece of himself in a way, brings him over the edge, his spend splashing onto her skin as he thinks of her carrying his child.

It's an impulsive thought, brought on by the excitement over new possibilities in life.

But it manages to stick.

ii. can’t say i'm not alive (September 2003)

The sound of her fists slamming against the front door startles Herbert out of the daze he had been in ever since he had looked into the eyes that have haunted him awake and asleep for over three years. It hits him that he’d had her for a fraction of the time he’s been mourning her, but he’s quickly brought back to reality when she yells, demanding he hand over the child.

Herbert can’t deny it’s her. He memorized her face so long ago, spent so long dedicating himself to the act, that it’s engrained in his mind. He knows her face as well as his own, maybe even better. Her voice has been slipping away recently, but he still remembers enough to recognize it anywhere. It’s not logical, but it must be her.

“Open the door!” Elena is louder now, the rage building in her voice. So he opens the door.

This is not the reunion he had imagined, when he had indulged in fantasies of seeing her again. Herbert would never admit to how much he had wanted the previously impossible. He had thought about opening a door and her being on the other side. She would smile and say that she was home now. He wouldn’t ask where she had been, or why she had been gone, because there would be lifetimes left for questions.

But instead of a gentle embrace, Elena charges through the door the moment it opens, slamming her body into his. There’s barely any time for him to think about how he’d never thought of her being capable of such fury before she stills, staring down at the space between their bodies. In all the chaos, Herbert had forgotten about the needle in his pocket. It was a mild steroid, part of his work. He had been about to inject it into one of the iguanas in the basement, having found a moment to work while Johanna napped upstairs. The baby monitor on his workstation would have alerted him to her waking, but he’s not thinking about the child right now.

“What was in the needle?” Elena asks, her voice rather steady, considering the situation. It’s then that he realizes that she had been injected. The fact that it had been in the shoulder is of little comfort

“Just a mild steroid. It’s nothing dangerous.” Herbert forces himself to be composed as he steps back, inspecting her in a more clinical sense than he had ever had before. Her t-shirt’s thin fabric had allowed the needle to penetrate her skin, but the contents had been so mild that she has nothing to worry about in the long run.

“Why do you have that?” Elena asks, her hand going to her shoulder. It may be sore, he realizes and then she wobbles, suddenly unsteady on her feet. “And where is my daughter?”

“Johanna is upstairs. She was taking a nap, but the racket likely woke her up. I can go get her right now, if that is what you would like.” Herbert speaks carefully, every word measured, despite being on the verge of screaming one of his many questions into her face. “Mrs. Vidal, I insist that you have a seat. You may start to experience side effects of the injection soon.” It’s an intentional error on his part, he needs to find certain things out without asking directly.

“Miss. Not Mrs. I’m not married,” Elena says as she follows him into the kitchen, not taking the assistance he offers, even after she practically lurches across the floor to get into one of the chairs. “It’s just the two of us.”

A part of Herbert feels pleased at her statement. That is until the full implications of everything hit him all at once. The familiar elements in the toddler’s face had not been a product of his imagination. He had not been projecting his own musings about the daughter he had been trying to not think about for so long. There was no psychological issue. The girl is his offspring.

“I feel nauseous. Is this normal?” Elena asks, bringing Herbert out of his thoughts.

“That depends. Have you eaten recently?” The quick shake of her head gets a nod from him in return. “That is to be expected. And what medications are you on?” It’s a logical question, he would ask any other patient this. Though the next one is not, but he needs to truly know if he’s been replaced. “Are you on birth control?”

“Yes, to all of those. I take a birth control pill, it’s a generic monophasic one. As for my other meds, I take Zoloft daily and Xanax as needed. I don’t remember the exact dosages off the top of my head but if you really need to know, I can go get them.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Herbert says. “May I ask why you’re on the Zoloft and Xanax?”

“There was some…trouble a few months after my daughter was born. And honestly before. It’s a long story, and there are a lot of gaps in my memory, but to sum it all up, I came all the way from Massachusetts for a reason.” She tried to laugh, but the brief sound was hollow. It wasn’t funny, not to any of them. “And that is probably why I got so upset.”

Herbert was putting it together, his mind racing as it always did when he was finding an answer to a question that had been plaguing him. “It’s alright,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm. “You have every right to your feelings,” he adds, borrowing a phrase he’s heard Dan use several times. Before Elena can respond, she bends over, arms wrapped around her stomach. Herbert moves quickly, grabbing a bowl from under the sink. Nothing should come up, but he’s learned the value of keeping a bowl nearby for things like this. “Thank you,” Elena mumbles, setting the bowl on her lap.

Moving quickly, Herbert gets one of Dan’s granola bars out of the cabinet and hands it to her. “Eat this. Slowly. You need it.” Elena nods and unwraps it, which brings some sort of sensation to the pit of Herbert’s stomach. Even right now, with her slowly eating the granola bar and her expression one of her nervousness tinged with nausea, Herbert is entranced by her. He wants to push her hair behind her ears and rest his hand on her shoulder. The memories of the small intimacies they had shared start seeping back and he’s grateful for the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Dan asks, yawning as he walks into the kitchen. Herbert has no time to react before Dan sees Elena, stopping halfway into the room. “Herbert….who is this?”

“This is Elena Vidal, Johanna’s mother.” Herbert does his best to use his face to tell Dan to remain calm. This is a fragile moment, even he realizes this. It’s her, he knows this. And she’s right here, looking at the two of them questioningly. “Miss. Vidal, this is my colleague, Daniel Cain.”

There is not a flicker of recognition in her eyes as she stands to greet Dan, who thankfully looks more tired than anything else. Herbert knows that Dan will be bombarding him with questions once they’re alone, so he takes his time packing up Johanna’s things, though he leaves the stuffed bear that the girl loves so much. Dr. Mac will have to be separated from its owner for a while. He needs a reason to see them again. It’s the first step in his still forming plan.

Johanna eagerly runs to her mother when Herbert brings her downstairs. Elena refuses any help to carry her things back, and Herbert has to watch them go, staring at them from the window until they vanish from sight.

iii. maybe someday, I’ll be lucky (April 2000)

“I don’t see the point in engaging in this discussion.”

Elena just giggles at Herbert’s statement, wrinkling her nose a little. “That’s the idea. There is no point. It’s just for fun.” She lovingly runs a finger along his jaw, teasing him. Her legs are slung across his lap, it’s as close as they dare. The guard on duty is the one that often sleeps on the job, and it is lunchtime for most of the other inmates. They can be a little reckless, they can sit this closely. Her veil is on the floor, her hair is loose. For a moment, they feel almost…normal.

“I still fail to the see point in picking names for a child yet to be born.”

“It’s not set in stone. Come on, you never thought about it?”

“I never even considered having one until-.” He stops, realizing what he’s about to say. They try not to talk about the thing that hangs between them. Their lack of a real future. The look on her face makes him change course, hopefully distracting her. “I would not name a child after my parents. Their lack of any sort of impact on my life disqualifies them.”

Elena smiles sadly for a moment, cupping his jaw in her hand. “Then we’ll name none of our children after our parents. My parents already have enough children named after them.” She’s gained several new nieces and nephews since they had met and two had been named after her parents in some way. They would be fine if these hypothetical children didn’t bear their names.

A part of her needs to believe that there’s another world somewhere, a universe where this discussion isn’t so painful. There must be a place where they’re talking about this in their own home, the yellow house from her dreams, and they’re agreeing to wait several years before they start planning, but it would happen one day. There would be time.

The idea that they’re doomed no matter what is something she can’t take, not right now.

“The only person that I would bestow that honor on is Dr. Gruber.”

Upon hearing that, the smile on her face isn’t quite so sad anymore.

iv. come up to meet you (September 2003)

“Herbert, no. Let me do it.”

Of course, Dan’s protests are ignored, and Herbert continues his journey up the walkway. The bear is in hand, and he’s approaching the little house at the edge of town where his wife and child are residing. The fact that he had been able to wait several hours before going to return the stolen toy was a sign of his improved impulse control. Though stealing the bear in the first place basically negated that.

“I have to talk to her, Dan. You don’t-“

“If you say that I don’t understand…. dammit Herbert.” Dan drags his hand down his face, letting out a deep sigh. It would be hypocritical of him to stop his friend, not after what he had done to get Meg back. But there must be a better way to go about this than what Herbert is planning. He’s planning on the long game, it seems. Becoming a part of her life, waiting for her to remember. And if she doesn’t…. Dan doesn’t want to think about that. It feels wrong for Herbert to play this half-false role.

But all Herbert cares about is getting what he’s been wanting for years. He knows it would work, because it worked before. They had worked before, and they would work again. They had made vows and neither of them were the sort to take that sort of thing lightly. For once, answers could wait.

Maybe, as long as he has her back, Herbert would be content without answers. That’s the best Dan can hope for, and even that feels impossible.

Herbert knocks on the door, Dan hanging back a few feet, as if to stay out of a blast zone. Every worst-case scenario runs through his head in 90 or so seconds that it takes for Elena to come to the door. “Hey, I was just about to call you. I think my daughter left her…”

“Her bear.” Herbert holds up the stuffed animal, forcing his face to stay neutral as he takes in the sight of her. She’s changed her clothes, swapping the jeans and a t-shirt for a pair of shorts and a cutoff shirt that is high enough to reveal the scar on her abdomen. It’s raised, a tad crooked. The work of a butcher and in his anger, it takes Herbert a moment to realize that it’s a cesarean scar and that the same incompetents had delivered her daughter. His daughter.

Their daughter

“Thank you,” Elena says, taking the toy from him, their fingers brushing together. It brings him back to before, having to make do with brief touches because there were often eyes on them. “Do you have time to have some coffee? I just put on a pot.”

“We should-.” Dan starts to speak, but Herbert cuts him off, not even bothering to shoot him a glare.

“We have plenty of time.”

Nothing else matters, not right now. As he walks through the front door of her home, not even the work is relevant. Herbert’s eyes are fixed on Elena, taking in everything. He walks a little too close to her, watching the way her body moves from behind, silently marveling over the sight of her bare legs. It’s one of the small things that had been denied to them, among many other things. The sunlight catches in her hair and it’s another thing that’s new to him.

“Again, I have to apologize for my cousin. I think she just…panicked and did what she thought was best.” Elena glances at them over her shoulder, and Herbert shakes his head in response.

“Our goal here does include community outreach. And it was for the greater good. We thought that it would be best to allow your grandparents time to rest and recover without having to worry about taking care of a child. At their age, the flu is far more dangerous for them than it is for us.” Behind Herbert, Dan makes a face, as if he’s disagreeing with it. In his mind, there had been no ‘we’, this had been one of Herbert’s ideas and his idea alone. What was he supposed to do? Throw a toddler out on the streets?

But Elena doesn’t notice the look on Dan’s face, she’s only looking at Herbert. Dan wonders if they would even notice if he left.

“So where are you two from?” Elena asks as she pours out the coffee, Herbert noting that she takes it with cream and sugar, while he takes it black.

“Dan is from Washington, DC and I’m from Canada. But both of us attended medical school in Massachusetts-“ Herbert is cut off by the sound of Elena suddenly setting her mug on the table, her hands trembling in excitement.

“Really? Because that’s where I’m from! Born and raised!” Elena’s face lights up and she switches to English, her accent stronger as she speaks in her native tongue. “Did you go to Miskatonic?”

“No. Harvard.” Dan kicks Herbert under the table, knowing that he needed to lie. It makes him part of the whole…thing that is surely going to come from this, but he can’t let Herbert blow up their lives here. It’s been fine over the last few years, he’s content. But he can’t let Herbert take control of the situation, not when there’s a child involved.

“Still a great school. I’m biased, because I grew up in Arkham. But it’s not far, so we were probably practically neighbors.” Elena’s eyes are on Herbert and he feels that warmth that came with being in her orbit for the first time in a long time.

#my writing #herbert west x oc #sorry about the very end i was going through it at the time of writing

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