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comfortless · 9 months

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This Time Around

König + fem! house sprite reader

content/warnings: reader wears dresses, König is soft and lonely, pining, comfort & fluff.

notes: @deltrese put the thought of König inheriting a little dollhouse from his grandmother in my head whilst i was watching Arrietty and… yknow. likely not anyones cup of tea but the idea was too cute to not write out eheh. not proofread, apologies! wc: 8.5k.

She survives on drops of honey, dew trickling from the asters springing up along the brick skirt wrapped around the lower level of the house, sips of canned soup and crumbs of bread when he forgets to clean up after a dinner prepared far too late into the night. He’s far from a messy man; he keeps his house in lovely shape, but he’s weary, more tired than any of the mice undergoing torpor she’s crossed paths with in the attic.

In her own way, she’s grown fond of this giant. Not fond enough to reveal herself in full, but she’s polite enough to sweep his crumbs from the table after he’s gone to bed, spend a day patching up an old shirt of his with a tiny thorn and scraps of thread if she notes a tear in the fabric of some ugly, dark thing he wears. She’s always amazed when he notices her busywork, too. The way he will hold the shirt in front of his face with a boyish grin after taking notice of how skillfully it’s been repaired, the way he calls out, “Danke freunden!” in that soft tone of voice that reminds her of a breeze passing through a windchime.

She knows that he doesn’t truly think that anyone else is here at all; that’s just how humans were— silly things. Something strange happens and they’ll try any way that they can to rationalize it or personify whatever may have caused it. König looked the part of a rational man, but her heart seems to swell when he gives away just how superstitious he truly is.

He’s ritualistic in some ways; covers his mouth when he yawns as though fearing that the Devil himself will come scurrying out of his windpipe, the wind chimes he has hanging up on his front porch, even knocking on the wood of the dining room table as he passes through lost in thought about something. She might be, too, because she always whispers her wishes of good favor to him when she knows he’s heading off on some grand adventure in the world outside.

She likes that she can make sure he feels less alone.

The man never has any visitors, and more often than not, he’s away. She likes to imagine he visits beautiful places, climbs mountains she will never in her lifetime see the peaks of, runs his calloused hands over the sharp edges of leaves and plucks dandelions puffed with seeds to blow wishes into. She pictures him having sweet, doting friends, all smiles when he’s around. Though, she is almost certain that the reality is nothing of the sort.

She’s seen him come home with fresh wounds, blood seeping through gauze haphazardly wrapped around his side. She’s seen the look in his eye when he stares blankly at the lifeless wall for what feels like hours, breathing out long sighs as his fingers curl and loosen in repetition at his sides. Regrettably, she’s fretted over the sight of tears welling in his eyes to the extent that she’s almost dared to come out of hiding, to console him just a little.

He’s hurting.

She’s alone too, here. There are others like her, of course. Groups of them cluster in lived-in homes chattering all throughout the night, getting into any mischief their tiny hands can fall upon to prepare. Often times, when a little sprite such as herself chooses a place, the others come flocking, too— making merry, stealing from their humans in ways hardly worthy of a second glance and starting colonies in the rafters, far out of sight.

But no one else will touch this place.

The house is a beautiful thing, meant for a family. There were so many rooms that she had yet to even explore herself. Not a pet in sight to chase after her and swallow her whole. The floors are soft carpet she often beds down in on nights she can feel he won’t be returning, plush and soft and so unused to human traffic. She loves it here, even if her kind do not. She might even understand why, too. It’s so melancholic, haunted by this miserable giant with heavy footfalls and tears perpetually unshed, held back by the grace of quivering hands in a body with too many scars.

She’s tried to count them before, once, whilst he was changing in his room. She wasn’t trying to steal a glimpse of his body, no, she only wanted to see what stories he was hiding, written on flesh. Perched on a bookshelf, she watched the giant as he pulled his shirt over his head, some tight, black cloth that didn’t look cozy at all. He had a cut running from his navel to his chest, a few penny sized keloids along his ribcage. The giant’s body was pale, as though he had never at all caught the eye of the sun, the only thing making him look still-alive and healthy were the layers of muscle across the chest, bunching down to his abdomen.

A pretty sight, undoubtedly for women similar in stature to him, but to her she sees only his fluttering pulse in the vein along his neck, the shaking of hands too large, and those horribly sad eyes that shatter her heart with only a glimpse.

She had nearly been caught then, with her palm splayed out over her chest in open awe and sympathy for this poor, cursed beast. His gaze had snapped over to the appeal of small movement on the shelf only to find nothing at all; she had tucked herself behind a copy of a Ungeduld des Herzens.

That was two months ago.

He had left the following morning, a black duffel bag thrown over his shoulder as he meticulously walked through the home shutting off lights and closing doors. Except… he left two lights on this time; the kitchen and his bedroom were cast in a white glow. She thought, assuredly that the artificial suns in their glass casings will burn out by the time that he returns. She also realized how strange it is that he would do such a thing at all. The man was prone to his habits, and it welled her up with dread to think that perhaps the book hadn’t entirely concealed her shape, that he had seen her peeking out between old pages covered in thin layers of dust.

She occupied her time scrounging around for anything that may have suggested his cerulean eyes had fallen upon her, When a human catches sight, it’s best to leave as though a house sprite had never been there at all; she certainly didn’t care for uprooting from this cozy, quiet life in the presence of a man that she harbored a fluttering, sympathetic heart for.

To her relief, she found nothing of note.

— — —

It was rare for him to be gone this long. She’s lost track of the days after a quaint seventy-three. A decent meal is harder to come by when he isn’t accidentally feeding her; the cabinets and pantry are shut, and there’s absolutely no hope of her small hands prying open the big portal leading to a perpetual winter that humans referred to as a refrigerator. Dew drops, wild strawberries and blackberries get tiresome after a while, and sneaking outside is dangerous, anyway. The birds don’t think her anything more than a bug, something simple to descend upon and scoop into a hungry beak.

She gathers up a thin piece of thread and, after tossing it into the air an innumerable amount of times only to have it land in a heap at her feet, she finally manages to hook it onto one of the knobs of a cabinet where she knows he keeps brightly colored packages of store bought cookies.

Those were for rougher days, always in date because god knows the man probably had never had a day that wasn’t somewhat harrowing. She’s seen him drink jåger and munch cookies while watching the television late into the night more times than she can count.

She pulls the thread tight and takes steps backwards to fling the cabinet door wide open. It takes a lot of effort from her small size, but she prides herself on managing even without a cluster of other sprites to help her along. Her stomach rumbles when the package comes into view and she readily climbs into the cabinet, up a few cans and boxes to reach the second shelf.

The package is opened with careful precision. She’s diligent at emulating the rips and tears she’s seen on similar ones to make it look like an accident occurred on some storage room shelf. Her heart swells in utter delight as the sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon wafts up her nostrils, her mouth watering by the time she pulls one of the baked goods free from its confinement as she seats herself on the thin wooden board of the shelf with the treat in her lap.

It’s when her lips part and she lowers her head to take a bite that her ears prick to the sound of the front door opening. She missed the sounds of the turning lock, likely whilst fussing with the plastic and now… now it’s simply too late for her to haul off her spoils, shimmy down back to the linoleum floor, manage to unthread her makeshift cabinet-door-opener and shut it, leave it as though it had never been touched.

She’s never made a grave error like this. There have been close calls, certainly, but never one that set her off with the alarm of certainty that she would be discovered.

The lock clicks back into place, and there’s the sound of heavy boots being dropped to the floor before soft footfalls could be heard against the plush carpet.

… Headed straight in her direction.

Don’t come in the kitchen. Do not come in in the kitchen!

She finds herself in a tossup between petrified by her own fear and utterly entranced by the idea of being caught. Finally, after years of watching her giant from shadows and covered perches. The idea that he might crush her like a bug or capture her to marvel at like a pet crosses her mind, certainly, but a part of her wants to believe that her fondness for him wouldn’t be entirely unreciprocated.

From her perch, she can see the dark camos, the looming shadow as he trudges into the room only to stop, immediately, when he notices the little door flung wide open. He’s wearing that hood he wears often when he returns, a scrap of bleached fabric with eye holes torn out. She’s taken to stitching it more times than she can count, breathing in the scent of sweat, of strange lingering smoke as she works to fix the threading along the eyeholes. It’s difficult to make out his expression like this, but his blue eyes dart from the open cupboard to the rest of the room before landing back there.

He grunts out a noise of confusion, and she can almost hear his thoughts. He wouldn’t have left it open. The lights had been intentionally left on. That was a sign she had foolishly overlooked.

He takes careful steps toward her, so close now that only the fabric of his tight-fitting trousers filled her view. To her horror, her amazement, his knees bend and he kneels down slowly. This wasn’t the way that things should have went, she should have been more cautious. The hood comes into view all too quickly. Blue eyes widen as they land on her with that big cookie still in her lap.

“Hallo, little one.”

Ohgodohgodohgod.

He’s speaking directly to her. He sees her. He’s not afraid, yet her heart is burning with the icy touch of pure dread.

She clutcheds the pastry tight to her chest, lips pressed into a thin line as she takes a tentative step back into the shadow of the cupboard. So tense, so uncertain. She didn’t want to leave, silently willing him to close his eyes, turn away, forget about the tiny thing he happened upon stealing his food.

Instead, he stares down at her as though he had just found a will to keep living, a reason to stick around despite his bloodied wardrobe and the ever-present loneliness.

“Kleine engel… you are safe, please don’t look at me like that…”

He’s so much kinder than she had ever anticipated, his heart laid bare between the red rings of flesh lining his eyes. Her giant is nothing but gentle, cooing at her in such a quiet voice as though she were a wounded baby bird. Those eyes were filled to the brim with such wonder and hope that she couldn’t turn away now even if he was some rotten carnivorous animal.

“Please don’t look at me.”

The words fall from her lips despite her defenses lowering, shoulders relaxing and her eyes filling with that same look of hope he held.

It’s strange, how someone so massive doesn’t seem to send her scurrying for the hills. He’s huge, but that tenderness in his eyes that makes her feel comforted, reminds her of the gentle lull of streams and the sky filled with puffy clouds like castles in mid-morning.

“Ach… But you are so…”

Tiny, strange, a myriad of words hanging on his tongue, and she feels every one of them with each flutter of her pulse.

“… so pretty. Kleine puppe.”

She drops the cookie at that and it falls to the floor of the shelf with a soft thud that makes her jump in place.

The other sprites have their stories. It’s nice to sit and listen from the comfort of a canopy of grass when another passes through. They speak of the humans that they’ve encountered just as they speak of beasts, keen-eyed cats with sharp claws bared ready to feast upon those like herself. Dangerous things not meant to be associated with. Not one of them has ever mentioned encountering one that looks at them like… this, as though they were something breathtaking, something to be protected.

He huffs out a laugh at her shocked expression, his fingers drumming upon his knees as he watches her.

“I am not a ‘puppe’.”

“A fairy, then?”

She sighs, heavy and exasperated as she sorts out her dress and bends down to retrieve her meal. A pretty thing she had sewn herself from a vintage napkin, blue blossoms and thin lace.

“Are you going… to tell anyone?”

Her giant shakes his head with a laugh, and of course he does— who would he tell?

“I will keep you a secret, puppe.”

“Good, or I’ll curse you!” She warns, trying to puff her chest to seem bigger, more intimidating. She’s too cute to seem anything more than a frightened bunny, and his eyes are swimming in mirth at the sight of her. He’s like a giant child, finding out the fairytales in his books were true all along, only… not the ones about boiling folks like him down to bones to teach a lesson, just the ones where true love and sweet princesses existed.

He asks her a million things in rapid succession then— where she came from, how long she’s been here, what she’s doing, why she never came out before, how she can even exist. They make her head swim and she doesn’t answer a single one. He makes no move to touch her, doesn’t move any more than his nervous fingers and his beautiful eyes. They crease at the outer corners with each wide smile he undoubtedly has beneath that hood and her heart stutters each time like the flapping of little bird wings desperately seeking safe wind to coast in a storm.

She decides that she likes him as she brings herself to sit on the edge of the shelf, nibbling at her cookie whilst he tells her his name, that he works as a soldier— a colonel, sounding prideful despite the fact she has no clue just what that entails. He speaks to her in an energetic whisper, drops his shoulders and lowers himself further as though trying to appear her size, despite the vast disparity between their statures.

“Do you have a place to sleep?” König asks her suddenly, glancing over his shoulder as he looks out towards the den with a pinched brow. It was almost as though he expected a castle fit for her to appear from thin air, white gates and a shimmer of fairy dust surrounding it all.

“The floor is soft… sometimes between the sofa cushions, too. You’ve nearly sat on me before.”

“Nein. That will not do.”

He stands to his feet before she can protest and leaves the room. A part of her still teeters on the edge of running off, escaping before they became too familiar, and yet a more impulsive part wills her to wait as she hears the creak of floorboards beneath his feet whilst his footfalls ascend up into the attic.

She pictures the mice scurrying away in fright, just as she should, while she kicks her feet and waits patiently. The taste of cinnamon and sugar remains on her tongue as she places the remnants of the cookie aside and licks her fingers clean of sweet dust.

König returns a few moments later, a large box cradled in his arms.

“Close your eyes, puppe.”

It doesn’t make sense for her to leave herself vulnerable so soon after their impromptu meeting, and she doesn’t want to, but she does as he asks anyhow with a soft smile on her tiny face. Feels her chest pool with a mixture of excitement and fear as she hears him shuffling about the kitchen, the thump of something heavy being placed on the counter encourages her to flinch. She can hear small objects being set down carefully, the water running from the tap for a moment before the sound of something soft meeting wood fills her ears. It all quiets after a moment and she feels a gentle nudge at her side.

Her eyelids flutter open to see König’s finger gently pressed against her waist, his blue eyes beneath the dark hood fill her vision entirely. He’s so close, too close. As if sensing her apprehension, he raises his head back to look down at her instead.

“It is alright. I have a gift for you.”

König nudges her once more before she realizes that he’s inviting her to climb onto his massive hand. Her breath catches as she glances from the calloused flesh to his eyes and back.

Her kin would scold her severely if they were here, tell her she’s gone too far that there’s no way she will ever come back from this if she accepts. She stinks of human already. That’s how she justifies the way she climbs into his palm with her hands folded into the lap of her dress. His other hand curves around her, not touching, but hovering closely enough to keep her in place as he slowly rises to his full height and carries her over to the counter where he immediately allows her to clamber off before dropping his hands to his sides again.

The sight she’s met with dissolves any lingering fear she had harbored against him.

On the counter sits a wooden dollhouse, painted a lovely shade of blue, the roof a quiet shade of gray. It’s a stately thing, speaking of yesteryear’s Victorian styled homes with its vaulted roof, even a small turret beside the upstairs balcony. Expertly crafted and far too beautiful, perhaps even prettier than König’s empty home. Her eyes are welling with tears as she slowly ascends the three sturdy steps to the front door.

“You like?”

She can’t bring herself to respond immediately. She’s too caught up in this, opening the door with a gentle pull as she wanders into the house. It’s furnished in a hurry, some of the furniture misplaced, but… everything is here, as it would be in a normal, human home. A couch that seemed almost tailored for her size sits beside a little rattan shelf, a small table before it, a little hearth, a full kitchen and upstairs she finds a bedroom complete with a canopy bed. The curtains hanging off of it are blue like the outside, like the floral wallpaper adorning the dollhouse. She tests the bed with a gentle hand, marveling at how soft it was, how the sheets bunch beneath her palm.

Then, she approaches the window in admiration of all of the small details, little etchings of plant life carefully scrawled along the wood. The lock even clicks open as she pushes the little sheet of plastic framed by white to rise.

“It’s perfect,” she chirps out to her giant. “It’s so beautiful…”

“Oma gave it to me when I was a boy.” König’s reply sounds bittersweet, but his eyes are shimmering, as though the fact he had made this small woman so happy had been the height of his year, perhaps even an entire decade of his life. She’s seen him quietly weep to himself long into the night, only a breadth away from him as she tucks herself further into couch. He’s seemed gentle, less of a titan and more battered then, but he’s never seemed this sweet. “And now I am giving it to you.”

— — —

Sleeping in a bed is different. It’s quiet and soft with no worries of getting crushed by a heavy boot or threats of having a presence too large finding out about her existence. Those things do absolutely nothing to lull her to comfort as a dull the throbbing in her chest blossoms and continues all throughout the night ceaselessly. She tucks the blanket a little tighter around herself as she tosses and turns on the small mattress.

Mornings are different now, too. When König wakes, he taps at her front door to pull her from her restless dreaming. He has a ritual, expecting her to come out in one of the dresses from the dollhouse’s wardrobe rather than her scrapped clothing with a small mug and a plate in hand. He gives her a drop or two of coffee and food from whatever breakfast he’s pieced together. Sometimes it’s a cookie from the cabinet. She feels like a contented housepet these days as he leans over the counter to speak to her.

It’s painful how attentive König is. His eyes don’t leave her when she speaks and he consistently asks her if she needs anything, if there is anything that he could do to make her feel more comfortable as if he hasn’t already provided her with refuge and companionship, things she hadn’t even realized she had been longing for. As if he hasn’t already made her feel things for a human that no sprite should! Really, the way he loiters about with the stupid grin plastered across his face while she stumbles out of her abode to greet him does nothing to make the flutter in her chest feel warranted. It’s there no matter how much she turns her head away from him and barks out her warnings of curses and other mischief; gnaws at her every time she hears his laugh or he tells her yet another stupid story of things she knows nothing of.

She listens, anyway, utterly mesmerized when he speaks of rescuing hostages or tearing through men like a rampaging bull. He explains to her what guns are, shows her and lets her run her tiny hands over polished metal. She should think him violent and obscene, but the way he looks at her as though she’s all he has stifles any judgements before they can leave her lips.

It quickly froths to a point that she realizes she’s come down with a terrible crush. She worries for him after hearing his tales each time he steps foot out of the house on another deployment, rushes from whichever corner she’s occupied with hurried little steps to greet him. She lets him carry her around on his shoulder sometimes, even leans over his arm when it’s stationed on the counter just to feel him near.

She knows better, which is why she finds herself skittering through tall grass to seek another of her kind. Hoping for a reminder that she’s making too many mistakes. The trip is a short walk for a human, but takes her from morning to sunset to reach her destination, a narrow alder tree full of knotholes with sprigs of dandelion surrounding it.

“You what?!” Bellis exclaims, the very second she’s managed to spill her story and slump against a ruggedly crafted table within the trunk of the tree. Bellis’ voice was like the chirping of little nightingales, and she looks cute when she’s surprised— the other sprite’s brown eyes twinkle in such a way that it makes her think of stars falling into pools of honey.

“Yes… we spoke,” she huffs, curling her arms around her waist, her face feeling hot and her eyes dreamy. Bellis knows the look well enough, the other sprite has it every time she locks eyes with her wife, another sprite far too pretty. It’s affection, one that she graciously spares her friend from commenting on.

“It’s alright, you know… just be safe.”

“Of course…”

She anticipated some long-winded lecture of dangers, to be beaten by words targeting her own selfish wants.

Instead, Bellis only offers comfort and the hope that her feelings are not a lost cause.

“You aren’t the only one who has ended up falling for their human, you know?”

“I thought we were supposed to avoid them, not dream of them.”

Bellis giggles and drapes an arm over her shoulder as she prattles on about sprites and glamours that could make them bigger. She tells her of a couple only a weeks travels away, a male sprite and a human woman, how he feasts upon wild berries and golden herbs under each new moon to keep himself human-sized day and night for the woman that he loves. Bellis reminds her that the other sprites frown upon it out of fear for their own safety, but she also reminds her that she’s damned to live a life far longer than the object of her affection, anyhow, and that if he already knows of her existence then what’s the harm in it?

Those words fill her with fantasies about a happy life, where she can hold her giant properly in an embrace, rather than wrapping her arms around his thumb to satiate the burning affection running rampant through her.

They also damn her to heartbreak when König returns.

He comes home after two short weeks this time, rather than months and she rushes to greet him as always. König bends down on a knee, scoops her up in his palm and brings her over to the sofa where he sets her on the opposite end from where he sits.

“How was your trip?” She asks him sweetly as she plops down onto the pillowy cushion below, fidgeting with the hem of her dress in excitement. She knows what she knows now, and she truly could not wait to tell him, to give life to the newfound feelings in her chest. She wonders what König would say; would he take her on dates? Would he dance across the room with her as she’s seen sprites in the throes of courtship do before? Would he kiss her? The thought makes her feel warm again.

König, on the other hand seems perfectly composed and lost in thought. His hands are fidgeting, but this time, not with themselves. He’s holding a device she doesn’t recognize, tapping at the little screen with the same look in his eyes that she reserves solely for him.

“It was fine.” He mumbles, and for the first time he doesn’t elaborate. She looks forward to his stories. Time away from him is difficult now. It passes slowly without their morning chatter, without his stories, without the films she watches with him late into the night. He’s taught her to use the remote, sure, but it’s not the same without him towering at her side.

“What is that?”

“A phone.”

She listens intently when he explains what this strange object is, even shows her the bright screen and lets her tap her hand against it a few times as she looks at the shifting colors with wide eyes.

“I visited a friend while you were away.”

He rests his phone in his lap and looks down at her then, his interest piqued.

“There are more like you?”

“Yes, lots.” She giggles. She tells him of Bellis who lives in the alder with her wife, of how her dark hair curls and her voice sounds like the chirping of birds. König pays rapt attention as she speaks, belays his curiosity of the prospect of there being many more like his little housemate with a tilt of his head.

“I made a friend while I was away.” He gestures toward his phone with a smirk. “Pretty, like you, but bigger.”

König explains to her what a ‘dating app’ is with a look of pure glee on his face. She’s never seen him so happy, not even when he first met her. It’s not a concept she can wrap her head around, her kind just happen upon one another, sing and dance and feast together until love blooms between them. There’s no need for little, lighted rectangles when it came to courtship.

“She’s coming to visit soon.” He pauses as his phone lights up again, his eyes scanning over the message on screen as a grin spreads over his thin lips. “I will have to hide you.”

Her face scrunches in disdain at that as she rises to her feet to pad a bit closer to the hill of his thigh, spread over into the next seat. She places her palms against the rough fabric of his pants, looking up at him with an expression of sheer bewilderment.

“But I don’t wanna hide anymore — we are friends.”

The man’s smile falters a bit then, as he nods his head in agreement.

“Ja… but she will be more.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I am taking her on a date.”

König seems so happy, and yet she feels as if she’s being bitten by a viper. All of that talk with Bellis was for naught, because the human man that’s won her heart by telling her of his creature comforts, of war and sharing his meals with her has left her to have his heart stolen away by another.

Despite the way it hurts, she doesn’t find herself upset with him. He isn’t like her, and he’s been alone for far too long. She reminds herself that König deserves to be happy, especially after all that he’s done for her.

She only lets herself cry when he brings her back to the dollhouse and she sinks into the sheets of her bed.

The following morning comes and she wakes feeling refreshed before König even begins his tapping. She bathes in the little plastic tub filled with lukewarm water König had graciously fetched for her the night before from the faucet, clothes herself in one of the many doll dresses found in the little wooden wardrobe of her home. Dainty florals like the wallpaper in the little wooden house, only this time pink rather than blue.

When König taps at her door, she’s already prepared with her tiny mug and plate in hand, a smile on her face.

“Guten morgen, puppe.” He greets her with a lazy grin as he opens his palm to take her dainty kitchenware. His yawn is cute when he turns away to begin filling the liner of the well with coffee grounds. She follows after him across the countertop with hurried steps to match his vast strides.

As he prepares their breakfast, they speak endlessly of dreams, sweet syrupy things. He tells her he dreams of flowers sometimes, like the ones on her dress, and she tells him she dreams of exploring the world outside with him.

“I will carry you to the top of a mountain one day, little one.” König says sweetly as they both sip at their coffee. He doesn’t prepare it black as often anymore, often adding sugar and milk simply because he knows that she likes it better that way.

She tells him she doesn’t need to see the tops of mountains, because she already gets a perfect view when he carries her.

— — —

“I’ll be back later.”

König is dressed strangely, she notes as she watches him from the arm of the couch. He’s dressed casually, more so than she had ever seen him, which is a large statement considering the man normally roamed around his abode in nothing more than a pair of black sweatpants. Tonight, however, he’s chosen a black t-shirt with some text scrawled across it that she can’t quite read and tough denim. It’s an odd sight when she’s grown so accustomed to the bare flesh of his scarred torso and gaudy military camos unsuited for cozy, indoor wear.

The giant crouches to lace up his boots with one hand while the other holds his phone. There’s that smile on his face again, but she easily takes notice of the way his hand shakes with it in his grip. He’s nervous, but never so with her.

It’s strange that he’s more comfortable with a little creature in his home than he is with his own kind.

“Oh… your date,” she murmurs, standing up to her full height, despite how small it may be.

“Ja, my date.”

“Can we watch another movie when you get back?”

König nods his head as he approaches the couch, slipping his phone back into his pocket before gently stroking the top of her head as though she were just a small kitten.

She doesn’t like the fact that he doesn’t see her as anything more than a cute pet any longer. Sprites didn’t keep track of their ages as humans do, celebrating the day they were born into the world with silly parties and gifts, but she would hazard to guess she’s at least a century older, maybe more. This wasn’t her first home, only, in the last she had watched that family wither away to an endless rest.

König was different; she wanted him to stay, thrive, live forever here with her. A selfish, silly wish.

When she leans into his touch, she thinks of the couple Bellis spoke of— a sprite and a human woman. It could be the same for she and König, if only he saw her for what she truly was, what she was capable of being.

“Ja, little one. As many as you like.”

She watches as the door closes behind him with her heart in her throat.

König does not keep her waiting long. If she had to hazard any sort of guess, she would assume that the moon hanging in the sky had barely moved by the time he returns. She hadn’t even left the couch, lying on her back staring up at the ceiling when the front door is flung open.

If it were possible for him to somehow look more pitiable, he does in that moment as he kicks off his boots and rests his phone and keys on the table by the door. She knows without a word exchanged that she should not ask him what’s happened. The broad shoulders were slumped, his face somehow paler. In that moment, her giant seemed even smaller than her.

She sits up and presses the buttons on the remote with her entire hand as König had shown her how to do, loading up some Austrian film he had told her was his favorite when he was just a boy. He offers her a lazy smile as he carefully places himself a respectful distance away and leans back into the couch. The movie plays while she occasionally speaks up to ask him what certain words mean, and he patiently teaches her, seeming thankful for the distraction she eagerly provides.

She doesn’t wake in her small house, in her tiny bed, this time, instead pressed against his thigh with his hand draped over her in the world’s heaviest blanket. When she raises her head up to look at him, peacefully resting with his head tilted against the back of the couch, jaw slack and dark lashes fluttering she makes a firm decision.

The golden herbs and berries Bellis had mentioned were on the far side of the forest. A long, dangerous trek, especially for someone who didn’t know the way. Rousing a mouse to treat as a steed could work, but the urgency caused her to fret. She wanted to meet his gaze and not fear stumbling back with each exhale of his breath, to be strong and capable enough to make her giant somehow feel as safe as he made her feel. There was no time to befriend a mouse and train it proper, not if she intended to do this before the new moon came and went.

She slips from beneath König’s limp palm, off of the sofa and out the small gap in the window to set off.

— — —

The early morning is alive with the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves and calls of strange animals a distance away when she makes it outdoors. She shields herself beneath a broad fallen leaf, hunkering down to soil any time anything soars or wanders too close for her liking. Morning dew chills her to her bones, and she has herself convinced that after all of this she will most certainly craft herself a coat, perhaps one made out of a sleeve from one of König’s old shirts. He would allow it, she’s certain. The thought of him even wasting a day away to help her fills her up with another warmth to carry on.

Her little dress is filthy before she even makes it out of the yard.

Tall grass quickly morphs into a forested trail, the trees so vast and tall, filled with the chattering and singing of others. She waves to some of them, turns her nose up at a few that beckon her to join their little communes hidden beneath layers of tree bark and moss. She spots a red fox chasing after another in the midst of play, they chitter and whine as they topple over one another before bounding off into the brush.

When the sun completes a lazy crawl high up into the sky, it’s rays of warmth beaming down on to the back of the leaf, warming her fingers as they curl over it to keep it in place, she knows she should stop and rest. Tucked away in the shade of a small mulberry bush, she shoos away a vibrantly colored caterpillar before cleaning off one of the berries with a handkerchief she finds in the pocket of her dress. A small lunch that simply leaves her wishing for König’s breakfasts instead, always warm and filled with moments of soft laughter.

She wonders what he’s spending his time doing now, almost feeling a pang of guilt for leaving him after what had assuredly been a terrible outing with a woman he had admired. Did he miss her? Was he thinking of her, too? Searching through his bookshelf and beneath his couch in an effort to find her? She hoped so.

Her journey ends when night finally comes about. The moon above is a mere sliver, but it’s enough to frame the clusters of goldenrod in a soft, white glow amidst a sea of inky darkness. She cheers in utter delight when she realizes she’s made it, that despite no map or guides her senses were keen enough to carry her on the right path. She carefully gathers a few clippings, dropping them into a neat pile before seeking out the strange berries Bellis had told her about. Her thoughts are flooded by the idea of how she and König will dance, how she will tell him in a voice as loud as his own that she’s fallen head over heels for him and that perhaps, he can even teach her to use one of his many weapons before they clamber onto the couch snug and warm to talk throughout a film.

Those thoughts keep her warm when she beds down in a nest of wild grasses.

The next night fills her with excitement. The sky is darker with the new moon hanging up above, only pinpricks of starlight break through the dark. She pictured herself human sized as she performs her little ritual, feasting on berries and swaying with a sprig of goldenrod in a little dance before she bites down into it to. There are other sprites here, doing the same. Some get bigger to move or for silly things such as being able to shop in human markets or taste meat for the first time. They sing and giggle just as she does, and she sees the face flush with love of the one she knew Bellis had spoken of. It lasts the entire night, and she’s far too excited to sleep or stay out when all is done.

She doesn’t know when she’ll change shape, not having thought to even ask, but the sight of the other sprites had solidified her belief that it would come to pass.

The way back feels far shorter than the way forward. She finds herself back in the yard just as the sky settles into mottled purples and orange and puffy white clouds. The smile on her face makes her cheeks hurt, and her chest and legs ache from exertion, but she treks on until she meets the brick foundation of the house. With and arm raised and a foot dig into the firm clay, she begins to climb up towards the window still left slightly ajar.

Only, she feels a warmth at her side that tosses her back into the grass steps away. It pulls her breath from her lungs and it takes a moment for her to force herself back up into a crouch and her vision to cease its swimming. She’s always found cats to be cute from a distance away, all soft fur and pleasant sounds. The one before her, however seems menacing, its claws are bared and its pupils blown as his mouth hangs open to scent. The orange of its fur is like fire, the yellow of irises like the sun itself.

This thing was going to kill her, she knew it before she even caught sight of the way claws had slashed through the side of her dirty dress leaving shallow gashes in her flesh.

The cat rears back, shifting on its haunches in preparation to pounce as she wails out König’s name in a near-silent prayer that he would come rescue her from this adorable little murderer.

The cat is caught in arms the size of trees mid-leap. It yowls for a moment before a hand gently begins to stroke the fiery fur behind its ears. Her giant coos to the little beast, and the vibration of a soft purr could be heard as she dusts herself off and stands.

“Are you alright, little one?”

His voice is sweet as he carefully sets the cat back into the grass and scoops her up instead. She looks pitiful— dirty, injured and panting as though she’s just escaped Hell itself. König’s expression grows horribly concerned before she can even catch her breath enough to respond.

“I’m okay,” she mumbles as she rests her weary head on the palm that feels more like rough stone than living flesh. “I was only gone for two nights, did you have to get a pet?”

König laughs at that, shaking his head as he takes her back inside the house with metered steps.

“Nein, I did not. He’s the neighbor’s.”

He shuts the door behind him, taking care to ensure the scruffy feline didn’t sneak inside.

“Let’s clean you up, hm?”

The man offers her a human bandage for the scrape along her waist before she wanders into the dollhouse to bathe, dress the wound and change into something less dirty.

After everything, she finds herself utterly exhausted. She tells König good night wishes, but her giant is hellbent on keeping her in his sight. After a close call like that, she doesn’t protest when he tells her they should sleep on the couch again instead. It’s safer, and after two days apart there’s little more that she wants than to be close to him, tucked under his palm eternally safe. König only gets through the start of a story before she’s fallen asleep curled against the side of his thigh. It doesn’t take long for the giant to follow suit, either. His soft snoring is present in her dreaming, a gentle sound accompanying the breeze of wind through a field of lavender where they sit hand-in-hand.

— — —

König does not wake her with gentle tapping the next morning. Instead, it’s a bark of surprise that jolts her from her sleeping. Her vision is blurry when her eyelids flutter. She can make out the view of the coffee table, the television beyond it, and somehow it feels wrong. She was accustomed to straining her neck to look up at things, yet seeing them now she doesn’t need to at all. In fact, it feels stranger when she notes her head is no longer resting on the cushion of the couch below, but on a broad shoulder layered in muscle instead.

König is staring at her as though he’s just encountered a ghoul. In fact, he’s trembling too. His reaction is enough to prompt her to shrink back, away from him and retreat to the arm of the couch. Only, she can’t fit the entirety of herself there as easily as she had many times before. Her legs are much too long, and making her ascent only brings her hands into view. She holds one to her face and marvels at it before her gaze trails down, down and she notices she’s nude. The little dress she had been wearing was no more than a tattered and torn mess on the couch beside König, who’s still gawking at her.

He turns his head away rigidly after a moment while she sits bewildered by her change in shape. The man returns after a beat with a large t-shirt and a pair of his boxers in hand, thrusting them towards her graciously as he keeps his face turned away. She can make out the red tint on his cheeks, the way his lips part only to slam shut when words fail him and she laughs full and giddy as she slips his clothing on and stands up to twirl about the room.

“It worked!”

Her voice sounds strange even to her own ears now. Shouting from her regular stature still resulted in a mere whisper, yet this… along with seeing all she can hear all. Just as he does, she sounds of rustling wind chimes.

She reaches for his hand to pull him along in her rhythmless swaying, and he obliges with a sigh and a shake of his head. König’s grinning, though. Even more so than when he wasted his time tapping away at the phone screen. He looks happier than she’s ever seen him as he clumsily shuffles with her.

“Little one… what did you do?”

He’s still a fair bit bigger than her, but she stands the height she feels as though she should. Her giant is still a giant no matter what silly magic she uses, but it’s fine, because he’s not looking at her as a tiny doll anymore, but in utter amazement instead. The way his pulse races and his pale cheeks burn crimson isn’t lost on her.

She explains to him just what the other sprite told her, tells him about the one she saw so in love with a human woman he did the same each month to keep himself more her size too. König halts her movement as he tugs her against him and pulls her into an embrace, the very thing she’s yearned for since the afternoon they began to speak. She knows he’s confused and entirely confused, but he bends to rest his chin on the crown of her head and squeezes her so tightly that she knows he’s grateful for this small miracle too.

She helps König prepare breakfast this time. Having watched him ready his coffee pot dozens of times by now, she knows how to operate the small, black machine. She prepared the toast too, with a gratuitous sweep of jam over each slice of the warm bread. König is still overly gentle with her, keeping his distance and not resting his hands on her unless it’s required or she prompts it. She does, often intertwine her fingers with his even as they eat, which earns her a shy smile and a gentle squeeze each time. Her giant isn’t nervous with her, their conversations are the same. He tells her that she’s pretty as often as before, cups a steady hand on her shoulder when she reaches out to embrace him after their meal.

She thinks ahead and leads König into the forest to gather a plethora of golden herb and berries to stuff into the winter box for the next time she will need to perform her little ritual, and he swears to her that he will stay up the entire night to watch over her then. The walk is so much shorter from her height now, but she doesn’t forget to tap at Bellis’ alder and flash the sprite a little smile and a wave when König has his back turned on the way back.

He still has his work, and she waits at home for him like a doting housewife. Only now, he returns with gifts. His closet is no longer dark green and black— there are patches of soft colors and whites between, floral fabric and lace, dainty things that seem comical amidst the tactical articles and denims she knows he’s scrubbed blood off of a few too many times.

They don’t share a bed, but they still cuddle against one another on the couch. Hand-in-hand as she’s always dreamt of. In fact, most nights it’s his bed that she sleeps in while he rests elsewhere, and he doesn’t mind it at all. He even tucks her in and presses a kiss to her cheek that makes her so giddy that she can’t find sleep until a half-hour afterwards before he flicks off the lamp and leaves her to her dreaming.

— — —

She’s better at keeping track of time after adjusting to a more domesticated life. König’s been out for fifty-four days, but she doesn’t have to miss him so much. He’s gifted her a phone, sends her letters with his stories scrawled out in black ink. The calls are frequent, and she finds she loves them most of all. They’re at odd hours often, and he always breathes out an apology for having woken her that pulls a giggle from her, because they both know she wouldn’t have preferred to wake any other way than from the sound of his voice.

“I miss you.”

He sounds tired when he says it, and she imagines that he is. Those weary looks from before they had ever even spoken weren’t unwarranted and she knows well enough now. His tales of his heroics were not all spoken to simply boast.

“I miss you too, König.”

He huffs out a laugh into the phone, and she imagines his smile reaching the bright eyes that she loves, twinkling in mirth.

“I should let you sleep.”

“No, it’s fine.” She pauses to chew on her lip, heart sailing up into her throat. “Will you be coming home soon?”

He grunts out his confirmation. “Tomorrow.”

“I wish to take you on a date then— a picnic, maybe. I can bake a cake.”

König falls silent for a moment, and her breathing halts entirely as she slumps back against the bed— his bed— feeling as though she were still just as small as before. Surely… she could not have misread all of those little looks, the warmth and his fluttering pulse she felt as she rested her head on his arm so many times before. She parts her lips to recant her statement, but there’s no need. The contented sigh she hears in response is all of an answer that she needs.

“Ja, please. I would be honored.”

#könig #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #cod fanfiction #konig fanfiction #könig fanfiction

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broken-egg-yolk-blog · 6 months

Text

part one part two

Nico truly hoped Will was right. He kept claiming that as soon as the summer campers left everything would all settle down. Nico felt as if he needed that more than ever. Despite the last week of summer being significantly less eventful as most weeks, it did not stop it from being chaotic. Some campers chose to spend their last few days of camp relaxing and hanging about with their friends they wouldn’t see until next year. Others spent their time pulling last minute pranks, or using every given opportunity to exploit their demi-godly privileges until their last chance.

Friday is seemingly when reality hit. On Sunday most of the campers would pack up their belongings and head home for the school year, leaving behind their second home and their friends. This year Nico was staying for good. A mixture of emotions swelled within him. Anxiety, what if people still held grudges against him? What if they didn’t actually want him to stay at all? Sadness, his closest friends were leaving to go back to school. Sure he had some people, including Will-obviously, but the idea of losing the people he had just gained opened a wound in his heart he wasn’t prepared for. Much to his confusion, Nico also felt excited. He finally had a home. A solid, reliable home, complete with people he cared about and got to spend time with.

Will hiked up the hill to meet him. He sat down in the grass next to Nico with a slight sigh. Whenever Will sat down next to him Nico couldn’t help but notice that he sat fairly close. Close enough that their knees, or elbows, or sometimes even their hands, would bump into and brush against one another. Nico, not so secretly, enjoyed it. It was nice having someone that wasn’t afraid to be near him, someone that didn’t see him as inherently dangerous or evil.

“Hi,” Nico says.

Will glances over at him, that soft permanent smile making Nico feel compelled to return it, “Hey, death boy.”

Nico rolled his eyes lightly, he’d long since grown used to the nickname but he couldn’t help but find it mildly ridiculous every time.

“How is the infirmary?”

“Forecast says it probably won’t burn down,” Will jokes, “assuming the Stoll brothers keep it together for another forty-eight hours.”

“That is a lot to ask of them you know,” Nico met his eyes, he had been practicing eye contact with Jason earlier that day. Despite his attempts to prove Will wrong, Nico felt the strong urge to pull his focus away. Will’s eyes were way different than Jasons. There was so much more to looking at him, it made Nico’s body burn beneath his skin.

“Yeah, well, they owe me a few favors,” Will replied, his gaze tracing Nico’s face in a way that made him want to turn away and hide forever, yet simultaneously never look away.

Nico smiled at Will, the eye contact burning a hole between them. Will was the first to look away, Nico would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved, something about it held an intensity Nico hadn’t been ready for, but the absence of it left him craving more. A comfortable silence settled between the two of them as they took turns looking out over the scene of camp below them and stealing gazes of the other when they were not looking.

Nico thought that Will had an unfair advantage when it came to looks. He felt as if he was nothing truly special, he definitely wasn’t the worst looking but when compared to Will, let’s just say he didn’t think they even belonged on the same measuring scale. Especially now, in the afternoon light, finally relaxing after a day of work, Will looked incredible. His messy blonde hair clumped into curls falling just below his law line, summer tanned skin radiating warmth, his skin decorated with an excess of freckles from a well spent summer.

“Will,”

“Yeah?” Nico could see him gaze over from the corner of his eye but he kept his gaze locked on the horizon.

“You’re from Texas, right?”

“Indeed,” Will smiled, sounding slightly confused. Nico just hummed in response. A beat of silence held between them. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I just-” Nico bit his lip, realizing now how stupid it sounded, “was curious?”

“About something you already knew?”

“Yes.” That, somehow, made Will laugh, which caused a flood of warmth to spread through Nico’s body as their legs bumped together.

“Do you want to know more about it?”

More about you, Nico thought, “Yes.”

“Okay what do you want to know?” Will asked, sounding incredibly amused. He shifted his body so that he was facing Nico more, their legs partially intertwined, crossed at the ankles. Will didn’t seem to notice, or at least he didn’t seem to mind.

Fuck, Nico chided to himself. He hadn’t thought this far in advance. He racked his brain for questions about Texas. He only ever knew one other person from Texas, Leo Valdez. The name brought a wave of sadness through Nico but he pushed it away, refusing to dwell on it right now. Leo was definitely not the prime example of a proper Texan, but it was all Nico had to work with.

“Do you have one of those hats?” Nico blurted out, it was a stupid question. The first thing that had come to his mind was a memory of a running joke between Jason, Piper and Leo about him needing some type of hat to actually count as an Texan. Will would absolutely think he was stupid.

Instead of berating him, Will laughed again. “You mean a cowboy hat?”

“Yes, one of those.”

“You tell me you want to learn more about Texas, then your first question is ‘do you have a cowboy hat?’”

“Obviously.” Nico layered his voice with as much confidence as he could.

“What type of question is that?”

“Well I heard that you're not a real Texan if you don't own one.”

“Where did you even hear that?” Will grinned, his face shining with exasperation.

“That’s not important.” Nico was gaining more reassurance, as he often did when conversations like this took off between the two of them.

“I think it might be, someone here is clearly spreading false information.”

“So then you don’t have one?”

“That is not what I said.” Will shot him a look, one that said ‘be careful here or you might just get tackled’. Nico was willing to push his luck.

“Sure sounds like it, sunshine.” That luck Nico was just thinking about? Pushed.

Will scoffed, both surprised and amused. “Fine. I do.”

“You do what?” Nico blinked at him.

“Oh don’t play stupid,”

“I simply do not know what you are talking about, Solace.”

Will grit his teeth, eyes sparkling. “I own a cowboy hat.”

“No way! Are you from Texas?” Nico gasped.

“Oh you are such an asshole,”

“You deserve it.”

“Trust me I have gotten enough shit over that hat, my mom made me take it to camp with me.” Will sighed dramatically, “She said ‘no good country artist mother would leave her baby to fend for himself without the proper attire,’. Lee and Micheal used to bully the living daylight out of me over it.”

Nico found himself laughing at the story. He imagined a young Will, showing up to Camp Half-Blood cowboy hat sat upon his head. It was a glorious image.

“Do you still have it?” Nico asked, still grinning at the mental image.

“Yeah, tucked under my bunk.” Will shook his head, not trying to hide the smile on his own face.

A thought popped into Nico’s head, “Oh please tell me you have those boots too!”

“Gods no!” Will cried out, the two boys nearly fell over each other laughing. “I am not that southern.”

“Maybe when you’re tired, or mad.”

“What?”

“Your accent, it’s more noticeable when you’re tired or mad.” Immediately after saying this Nico worried if he crossed the line from friend, into weird stalker.

“I do not. Have an accent.” Will’s voice was more dramatically shocked than stern. Nico relaxed a little bit.

“Oh you so do.”

“Fine, but so do you.”

“What?!” That earned a grin from the other boy.

“Only on certain words, usually the really italian ones, you can’t help but pronounce them correctly.” Will looked smug, his eyes narrow and smirk wide. Nico couldn’t help but blush. Will had a point.

“Fine then,” He decided, “We’re even.”

“Hmph.” Will thinks for a moment, “My turn-”

“Your turn?” Nico blurts out, cutting him off.

“Yes, you asked me a question. Now I get to ask you a question.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works-”

“It is now, I make the rules.” Will cut Nico off this time, “Your clothes, the whole edgy ‘too emo for school’ vibe, is that a cabin requirement? Or personal preference?”

Nico rolled his eyes. Piper and Percy had explained to him what emo meant a few weeks before, the first time Will had called him that.

“It’s personal preference, I think. It just matches how I feel I guess. I think I would feel like a complete loser and a total fraud in khaki shorts and an orange shirt.” Nico tried to hide his smirk on the last line.

“Yeah okay, that makes-” Will realized Nico’s attack, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing, you flip flop wearing fool”

“They’re so much more comfortable, my feet overheat too much otherwise.”

“I am so sure they do.” Nico had to admit, Will’s tone did sound pretty convincing.

“Whatever, so you just like the dark edgy clothes?”

“Yep.”

“Interesting,” Will paused for a moment before matter-of-factly stating: “I like them too.”

Nico’s face burnt red. “What?” He sputtered out.

“I said I like them too, they look good on you.” Will looked over Nico, as if studying his composure of dark wash jeans and black shirt. “It suits you.”

Nico forced himself to regain his composure, he needed to make some type of step forwards. He couldn’t keep letting Will fluster him and then run away.

“Well, I think you’d look really good in that hat of yours.” The words slipped from his mouth and nearly took the contents of his stomach with them.

“Really?” Will asked, obviously caught off guard.

“Oh yeah, I can see it now. It’d be great.”

Will blushed, a sight that invoked feelings within Nico that he wanted to chase for the rest of his life. Nico knew there was no turning back now. He was absolutely in over his head for this boy.

“My turn,” Nico said, not giving Will a chance to respond. “Apollo’s thing is music, right? Do you play an instrument?”

“Technically?” Will replied, still apparently recovering, “I mean I know quite a few, I’d say I’m the best at guitar out of all of them but music hasn’t ever really been my thing.”

“Right,”

“I’m not bad at it by any means but I am nowhere near as good as Austin, I guess we all have our field that we really excel in.”

“Naturally,” Nico nodded.

“Why?”

“You always ask follow-up questions to my questions.” Nico stated, watching Will carefully.

“Does it annoy you?” Will asked.

“A little bit.” Nico was not telling the truth, Will didn’t need to know that.

“Good.” He grinned.

“Okay well, you never really lead many of the campfire songs like your siblings do, I was curious again I guess.” Nico watched the other boy's face as he spoke, seeing him think through his response, watching the words formulate in his head.

“In all honesty,” Will said, that resting smile occupying his face, “It’s because they don’t like the music that I listen to as much.”

“Is it country music?” Nico had asked this seriously, but Will must have taken it as a joke because he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Not entirely,” He shook his head lightly, his golden hair fanning out and settling back down again, “I like a lot of midwest emo,”

Nico must have looked really lost, and honestly he was. He knew what the word ‘emo’ meant but midwest emo? Those words didn’t even have meaning.

“I’ll explain it to you some other time” Will promised.

“You’ll just have to show me.” Nico shrugged, his false confidence from earlier still sitting in his gut.

“What now you want me to serenade you too?” Will looked at Nico, moving ever so slightly closer as he asked, his tone had a hint of challenge to it.

“Yes.” Nico replied bluntly. “Preferably with the cowboy hat on.”

“You ask too much of me.” Will barely shook his head, eyes still locked on the boy in front of him.

“Always. But you know,” He let his eyes slip from Will’s piercing gaze down to his lips, then immediately back up to his eyes, “It would do wonders for that charm of yours.”

With that, Nico stood up. He let whatever stupid confidence was flowing within him carry him away, back down the hill, feeling as if he was floating. Leaving the son of Apollo still dumbstruck in the grass, and very slight, incredibly, impressed.

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #pjo #solangelo #solangelo fic #nico di angelo #will solace #i actually didn’t proof read this #again #mildly self indulgent #okay maybe very self indulgent #this ended up being kind of really long #its fine it is mostly dialogue #i have plans #big big plans #keep an eye out for part 4

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im-a-marion3tt3 · 6 months

Text

Untitled

Tw for pet death and an angry and greif filled Phantom. Apologies for spelling/grammar mistakes

The adjustment from the pit to the ministry was not easy for Phantom. It was the opposite as he was now placed somewhere he knew no one and all the rules differed. There was no need to fight for survival as everyone there wanted what was best for him. It was its own breed of stress as he no longer knew what was appropriate. That is where Aether stepped in.

Aether had been around for years, fully adjusted and quite content with his position in life. He saw himself in Phantom though and decided he would step in and try to befriend this unruly little demon. It was easier than he anticipated too. Maybe it was the bond of quintessence or maybe it was because they saw someone they cared about in the other, whatever it was it was left unsaid.

As time went on though, the ghouls kept seeing Phantom shadowing Aether, either hiding behind him or walking side by side. Everyone was quite content with this too, glad to finally see Phantom a little less on edge and he was learning how to use his abilities. Quintessence was notoriously hard to master, especially when one couldn't fully focus on it. Any progress was exciting to them though, and that is what really mattered.

The day they saw the biggest improvement in him was around month 4 of his being a part of the ministry. Aether and he had been taking a walk around outside, enjoying the chilled autumn air.

"When I first was summoned, I was so surprised by the seasons. I think they are lovely," Aether spoke softly as they walked, not expecting any form of reply. He had grown used to Phantom's form of company, involving the other person doing 99% of the talking and him seldomly letting out a hum of acknowledge, though that was few and far between.

"Cat," Phantom said with excitement, startling Aether. A word from Phantom was nearly unheard of.

"What do you mean, Phant?" The elder asked softly looking around. This caused Phantom to run off, starting Aether. He quickly followed after, very confused by this. Much to his surprise, he found Phantom around a bend, his knees in a puddle as he stuck his hand up a gutter.

"Oh-," The sound left his mouth faster than he could stop it. Aether cursed himself over it, not wanting to stifle the other actually seeming enthused about something. The younger ghoul was elbow-deep at this point before he slowly pulled his arm out, revealing a black kitten that was drenched. Aether could already see it, feel it, that this kitten had no shot in the dark. It was malnourished and the aura that hung around it just reeked of death and sickness. Phantom didn't seem to notice in the flightless.

"I.... help," Those were the 2 words Aether could pick up, there was a soft mumble of something between them but it was swept away by a breeze, one that caused the smaller ghoul to hug the kitten all that much more tighter.

Aether was sweating. He didn't know if he should agree to it or be upfront about the inedible. Sighing, he simply nodded, a fake smile plastering on his face. They would just have to cross that bridge when they got there, and maybe it would help Phantom open up just a little.

"Let's go dry them off," Aether said, placing a hand between Phantom's shoulder blade and leading him inside.

A few hours passed and Phantom was curled up in the infirmary, cat cradled between his arms as he sat on a window sill. Aether was working on the paperwork, sparing nervous glances at the two every so often. He could hear the smaller whispering little things to the cat in ghoulish making the older realize just how attached the two had gotten to each other.

Aether had left his care predominantly to Phantom, only stepping in when the other could seem to manage a small wound by himself. Other than that, it amazed him how much the younger had picked up, especially regarding quintessence which currently hung in the air around the kit.

Time went on without a problem, Aether escorting Phantom back to his room as the wee hours of the morning approached them. He ruffled both the ghoul's and the cat's head before biding them good night. And everything was well, all the parties went to sleep.

Until Aether was awakened by frantic pounding at his door causing him to jump out of bed and fling the door open, looking tired and panicked. He was met by a sobbing Phantom holding the unfortunate cat they had found earlier.

"Help me, pl-please Aether. I- I- didn't do... do anything wrong," Phantom stuttered out, hugging the cat to his chest which prevented Aether from getting any idea as to what was going on.

"You have to let me see him if I am going to help, Ant," to which the cat was trusted into his hands.... fuck.

"Why don't you come in, alright?" Aether spoke far gentler than he usually did. Unknowingly, Phantom rented, following at Aether's heels. He brought the ghoul over to his bed and had him sit down, gently setting the cat back into the younger ghoul's arms as he knelt down. This confused Phantom greatly.

"Yo- You have to he- help!" He hiccupt, actually yelling at Aether in his panic. Other ghouls could be heard, stirring at this commotion. Phantom never yelled and barely had a talking voice most times.

"There is nothing I could help with, little one. I am so sorry, so so so sorry," Aether said quietly, kneeling in front of Phantom and holding onto his knees gently rubbing them. This answer caused the younger ghoul to start hyperventilating as if he had forgotten how to breathe, tears burning down his face.

"Hey, hey, breathe little guy. You are only going to hurt yourself, focus on breathing, okay? I know.... I know this is a lot but you just need to breathe for now," Aether tried to calm him down but his words seemed to bounce off as Phantom began to sob loudly, clutching the cat who had grown stiff at this point to his chest, trying to force his magic into the lifeless animal.

This commotion gained the attention of other ghouls in the house, 3 sets of eyes peering into the room through a crack in the door. Dew, Rain, and Swiss pushed the door open ever so slightly and peered in. They had barely heard Phantom speak in the 4 months he had been there so this was far from expected. Aether could feel their eyes but Phantom didn't seem to notice so they could stay there for just a little longer.

Seeing that Phantom only kept getting more hysteric, Aether began working his own quintessence into the smaller ghoul, slowly causing him to become lethargic before altogether falling asleep. The older ghoul caught him before he could topple over.

"If you are done gaulking, help would be appreciated," Aether huffed as he picked up Phantom, the 3 quickly pushing into the room as he spoke. Swiss took the sleeping kit with ease, looking down at him.

"Where did he even find such a sad kitten?" Dew asked Aether softly, pulling the larger into a tight, warm hug.

"The garden, I didn't have teh heart to tell him. I have never actually seen him so happy... I am afraid I ruined it too," Aether murmured as they began walking to the infirmary. It was the best place to keep the passed cat, preventing its body from decomposing.

The five spent the room there, the trio piled into one bed, Phantom asleep on a cot holding on to the lifeless cat as well as Aether's hand. Phantom was the first to wake up as the sun peaked in through the windows.

The tears started once more as he sat up, pulling the cat back into his lap as he let out soft mewls of distress. He sat alone like that for the next hour. It was Dew who woke up next, a louder wail having startled him. Quickly, he made his way into the bed with Phantom, a warm hand placed against the younger's shoulder. Nothing was said, though, as Dew was really speechless. Phantom just looked broken. Slowly, Dew pulled the younger ghoul into a gentle, purring, and softly humming lullaby he had picked up on earth.

The comfort just made Phantom cry harder, pulling the cat closer, his tears dampening the fur. Death happened all the time in the pit, Phantom had seen and escaped his own fair share of it. But this cat? It didn't deserve to die, not so soon after it was finally given love.

The louder cries caused the rest of the group to stir, looking up at Dew and Phantom. Aether looked exhausted, having used a good deal of his quintessence during the night and not getting a deep enough sleep. He sat up slowly and gave Phantom a sad smile. "Hey, Ant," He murmured, reaching over and gently rubbing his knee.

"I don't want him to be gone! Bring him back.... please.... Aether" Phantom cried out, surprising the rest of the room.

"Phantom, I'm," He paused, sighing, trying to find the best way to put it, " I'm afraid that's just how this works. I'm so sorry."

This caused the young ghoul to break into hysterics once more, having never experienced a loss so painful. He had wanted to love this cat so much, it reminded him of himself after all. Alone and scared before being rescued by people who loved him more than he could ever understand. It just wasn't fair, this cat was innocent, and it didn't deserve to die.

Dew pulled Phantom to his chest, gently shushing him. He doubted that Aether had it in him to help so he would take the lead on it. He reached around and gently whipped away a tear. He was unsure of what to say, though, not being the one close to Phantom.

The next hour was spent with Dew and Aether doing their best to try and console Phantom. Rain went and got the youngest a glass of water and some pain medication, imagine the headache a night of crying would have given him. Mountain was also told about the situation and dug a hole on the top of a hill, a garden surrounding it. He had done his best to find the lovest spot for the cat; and for Phantom's peace of mind.

It took Phantom quite a while before he finally agreed to let go, though no one was upset. They could only guess the pain of the youngest.

As the sun bore down on them, Dew, Phantom, and Aether made their way to the garden. Butterflies rested on flowers nearby and the cat was ever so delicately laid to rest, wrapped in a silk cloth. Flowers of blue and yellow were rested on top before a hand softly rested on Phantom's shoulder.

"Death is a natural, albite unfortunate thing, little one. You did everything right and you let that cat rest at ease and feel love for the last of his life."

And though it hurts, Phantom knew it was true.

In loving memory of Mason <3

Mason was my Uncle's cat. Unfortunately, my uncle passed away 2 years ago and so the cat then became my grandmother's. She also unfortunately passed away this year. We made the decision to put him down a week ago which was really fricken hard. He was such a lovely cat, acting more like a dog than anything. And he'd always purr, regardless of if he was being pet or not. We're also pretty sure he was as old as I am. May he rest well.

Sorry for spelling/grammar mistakes, ik there's a few.

#ghost the band #phantom ghoul #the band ghost #ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost angst #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #ghost the band fanfic #tw pet loss #tw pet death

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werdlewrites · 1 month

Text

masterlist - ao3 - twitter @ djomamma

summary: “Do you do that a lot?” Dr. Owens questions, briefly resting his chin in a curled fist. “Do what?” She says with the click of her tongue. Her stubborn attitude keeps a grin on the man's face. A look of genuine entertainment no matter the softened glare in her eye or bitterness in the tone. She knows what he’s asking, yet dives out of fire and deflects with sarcasm. A behavior Jim Hopper had warned him of. “Avoid a challenging situation with humor. We all know why you’re here–why you came back for another session. But you,” he takes a pause as his fingers flick through the air in gesture. “dance around the topic.” wc: 2,672 warnings: therapy, hallucination, denial

It’s December twenty-first, and the air has grown colder. The snowfall was heavier - collecting on the ground and piling up against the windows. There’s laughter in the air. It’s heard throughout the small town of Hawkins as she passes them by in the early morning. There’s a lack of empathy - but more so, envy. The teenage girl expects to find her burden lifted - space given up and freed for more joy, rather than sorrow. Yet, despite last night's confessions, there’s a shocking lack of relief. A soul that aches and pleas beneath the ticking of the clock. The race of an anxious heart as she stares out at the white expanse, searching for what she longed for.

A moment of peace.

His voice is buried by her thoughts. Muffled questions eventually come to a halt as he takes notice of her attention elsewhere. He even spares a glance toward that same window, finding nothing of importance. The doctor is patient and kind. Holding out a hand to stall the officer at the other end of the room, who was prepared to break the spell. Dr. Owens simply lets her be. Let her wallow in it until she’s ready to come out from hiding all on her own.

Like a wounded dog reaching out to a hand of kindness. It’s frightened expression finally fades as it pokes its head out from the comforting shadows. Timidly accepting the gift of love when trust was hard to find.

Or, a lost child. Standing on two weak legs with only the company of tall trees. Finding safety in their shade but moving further into nothingness as they wander in hopes of discovering someone to guide them home. Dr. Owens would act as her guide, should she need him.

The girl's statuesque form slowly melts in the passing seconds. A deep breath was seen with the rise of her chest as though she had been suffocating. A sudden blink of her eyes in sudden awareness before they fall on her therapist. “D’you say something?”

He could become frustrated by her drifting attention span, yet all he can do is smile kindly. “I was asking about the beginning.”

It's with those few words that her demeanor changes. She’s slumped in the seat with arms crossed over her chest, chewing at her bottom lip with a leg swaying back and forth. It’s a topic of discomfort - hell, this entire session and the ones to follow were nothing short of fearful. Addressing the already known and digging at the roots, hoping to bring light to an unknown darkness.“The beginning?”

He only nods in reply, still wearing that same grin while her focus veers off in thought. Her answer does nothing to sway him. Instead, the look of amusement grows. “Roughly four billion years ago. But, who’s t’say there was nothin’ before dinosaurs? Everyone has different opinions.”

The sheriff’s disappointed sigh is painfully audible as all falls into silence. Even without his presence, you could envision fingers pressed deep into tired eyes out of frustration. Teenagers - especially stubborn ones, were a challenge on an entirely new level. One neither man had experience with.

“Do you do that a lot?” Dr. Owens questions, briefly resting his chin in a curled fist.

“Do what?” She says with the click of her tongue.

Her stubborn attitude keeps a grin on the man's face. A look of genuine entertainment no matter the softened glare in her eye or bitterness in the tone. She knows what he’s asking, yet dives out of fire and deflects with sarcasm. A behavior Jim Hopper had warned him of. “Avoid a challenging situation with humor. We all know why you’re here–why you came back for another session. But you,” he takes a pause as his fingers flick through the air in gesture. “dance around the topic.”

Her gaze flickers between an opened notepad with its pen resting at the hinge, to the recorder just at the corner of his desk. She wonders about the emptiness. The long spans of silence she allows and if you could picture a cold stare matched with the response. “I don’t know when it really began. It’s all I’ve known.”

Blue eyes cast up toward the ceiling in thought. Lips pursed as a hum rattles within his chest. He’s thinking of where to go next - what to ask. How to keep her on this path without detour. And maybe, for a moment, she finds some sympathy for the man. Autumn had come here willingly, yet refused to chip away at her walls. Ignored the weak spots with purpose - to remain ignorant despite a yearning to know.

“Someone was in the mirror. In the walls.” Her admission is softened and almost shameful. Looking down at her bouncing knees as she feels his focus shift back toward her. “Every mirror. Every wall. I could hear them-”

“Them?” He interrupts. His arms now fallen to tangle together as his torso leans inward, invested. “Multiple voices?”

Again, dull eyes fall on the frosted glass and the snow carried by a gust of wind. “I don’t know,” the teen replies with a heavy sigh. “I can’t remember what it all sounded like. I just–I just remember-”

The faucet was left running. Steam building and rising to ghost along the surface of her reflection. She had lost track of time - gaining a lack of direction when so many fingers pointed back at her. Autumn had never been the ‘new girl’ until now. Unaware of childish behaviors and fears as they dodged her in the hallways. Or the opposite eagerness to steal the open seat at her side, like Steve had, ready to make a new friend.

Autumn simply went elsewhere. Entrapped in old familiarities of her home and the kind words her father gave, all left on repeat to give comfort. It isn’t until the scalding water splashes against her wrist that she’s pulled into the present, hastily turning the nozzle back until the water ceases.

At first, it’s soft. Murmurs that almost seemed like a hushed conversation at her back, hidden behind stall doors. When she looks, there are no small feet in the misty glass. No bookbags to suggest she wasn’t alone.

Then, a fingerprint. A young girl can see every ridge until it fully flattens. The spot is now clear of steam, leaving beads of water to drip and clear the way. There’s no more voice. Only the achingly loud beat of a racing heart echoed in her ears. It carves out a message at a slow pace. Line by tedious line until it reads a simple, “Hello.”

Figures of classmates fill her vision - small and talking with excitement as they enter the bathroom together. One takes notice of Autumn and the look of fright in her eyes, asking if she is okay in a sweet tone. The girl points to the mirror, talking excitedly about something unnatural. And while she sees every letter so clearly, they only see the dampened surface.

That’s when the fear began.

The fear of Autumn Reid.

“What happened?” The Doctor questions. His icy eyes cast downward to his paper, writing every small detail down of a girl's pitiful story as she spirals into psychosis. The way those few girls ran from the bathroom, terror in their eyes. How they confided in some random teacher, who then reported it to higher-ups, dragging the girl to the office so she could wait for her father and address concerns.

A doctor visits their home, though Autumn can’t recall him giving any attention to her ailments, speaking with Ian instead. What’s the worth of a child's word, anyway? Drowned out and small as they stand beneath the shadow of giants.

“I think my medication was increased. Things…sort of fizzled out, after. But never really stayed gone.” Her eyes look beyond the man - to the organized clutter spread out along the table just behind him. The still Newton’s Cradle, stacks of various books on mental health, and the sticky notes that spilled out between pages. And the tall plant that stood in the sunlight. Its plastic leaves shine but never need the life nature gives. For a moment, she sees her father's ugly-colored walls and dark furniture. The file cabinets and cases that lined the walls just before she destroyed it.

Ripped her home apart piece by piece to escape the monster wearing human flesh. Picturing the dirt beneath her nails as she climbed the steps, finding her room and beloved plants flipped and tattered with purpose. It brings about a sudden ache. A strike of lighting to the base of her skull radiates and burns through every nerve as it dances. Autumn suddenly feels too heavy. She allows her body to collapse forward with her palms opened for her head to rest.

“What’s happening?” the doctor questions. His face twisted with concern though it goes unnoticed by the girl as she rubs at her eyes. A pitiful attempt to wipe away the images stained within them. “Nothing,” she nearly spits out. Forcefully prying her head away to meet his eyes, while her arms hang loose between parted knees. Even without seeing the exhaustion in her eyes, by her mere tone he can tell it was a lie. The girl was haunted. You could feel the chill of ghosts that followed her wherever she went. Stuck to her ankles by shackles she had no strength to break free from.

“Are you sleeping well?”

She can’t help the genuine, huff of a laugh that escapes. Not at him - more, the reality of her life. Kids her age sleep soundly, tucked in their beds. Or maybe their insomnia takes hold and keeps them up for late hours - something easily explained. Unlike the horrors that crept through her nightmares. Unlike the demon that wore Steve’s face. A vessel used to incite fear and confusion. “I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night.”

Dr. Owens's chin rests in his palm. Pen tilts upward and dangerously close to marking his skin. But he seems entranced by this new path the pair have wandered down. “Is it because you can’t? Or don’t want to?” Her heavy sigh is all he needs to confirm what he already knows. Not bothering to make small notes as he holds their connection. Full of sincerity. “What are you avoiding? Is it…this feeling of vulnerability? Something you see, perhaps.”

Tired eyes narrow into a glare as she puts her guard back up. Her posture slouched as her back rests against the chair, arms crossed along with a once bouncing leg now laid out over the other. His assumption leaves the teen uncomfortable as it effortlessly hits all of the right notes. As if can see right through her. As if he knows her. “Nightmares?”

“They don’t feel like nightmares. Before, I could just wake up and leave it behind. Whatever I saw. But, I could be here. I could be right here,” her gaze moves down toward her lap. Counting every thread of denim for fear his face will begin to morph into something else, or someone. Her entire life a mere hallucination as reality breaks apart before her. “And then, I’m not. I’m somewhere else. I’m with someone else.”

Dr. Owens remains silent just across from her. Fingers now curled and pressed to his lips as he watches that wall finally crumble bit by bit. In every word, he can hear her dread. The anxiety of simply acknowledging her madness out loud, and what it did to her. What it did to others. He wants to reach for her and offer some comfort but fights back the impulse to stay seated out of fear she may close back up.

“It’s all so real, but at the same time, it isn’t. I–I can’t always tell if I’m really awake. But, the fear-”

“The fear you feel is real,” he interjects. Watching as his words slowly sink in and the way she hesitantly nods in agreement. The subtle movement of her finger as it pulls the sleeve aside to reveal clean skin, before concealing herself once more. He doesn’t question it but makes a quick note with frantic movement.

The clock ticks on and he finds himself taking fewer and fewer notes. Keeping his focus on the girl as she hesitantly carves out every demon to set free. But they linger. Stuck to her like glue and the moment she describes what she’s seen in the night or the light of day, they crawl back into their shell. Forever part of her and unwilling to let go.

Autumn brings up her father's behavior in their final days together. Irritable, and filled with lies. Confrontational and desperate to get a grip on something he was losing. How she doesn’t remember the words spoken in their fight, only of what came after. Almost as if she woke up in the parking lot of that grocery store. The girl says she knows what he was like. How he listened to her troubles with an openmindedness, giving the only advice he felt appropriate.

“Let them in.”

Or the way he pushed and guided her through these changes in her mind. Ways to cope and accept it, rather than shy away from the unfamiliar. He wanted this. So, why did he leave her in the end? When he saw what she could do? Why did he favor his project, while his daughter was achieving the unimaginable?

The session lasts for over an hour - it’s evident in the change of light and the purposeful cough from the officer just outside of the office, in the hallway. Hopper wants it all to move slowly. No pressure, and no overextended visits so her mental health could recover. And she caves to his call as her bag is slung across her shoulder.

“One moment,” Owens states, quick to stand from his seat behind the desk, leaving Autumn frozen in place, watching as he digs through a duffle bag. What emerges is a large box neatly concealed in wrapping paper. The closer it gets, the more she can make out Candy Canes and Christmas Stockings with kittens stuffed inside. And as she holds it, she can’t help but give him a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry about the paper,” he says with a sheepish laugh. “I couldn’t find anything else.” The girl remains quiet. Fingers locked around the smooth edges with a brow raised in his direction, waiting for some sort of explanation. “Tomorrow is your birthday, isn’t it?”

“W–well, yeah. But, this can’t be appropriate, right? You’re my therapist.” Her words seem to ignite something in the bored officer. The rustle of his pants is heard in the silence as he rounds the corner, standing just after the doorway to fully understand what was happening. The doctor merely offers up a hand of peace, smiling.

“It’s really nothing. Please, I insist. Take it as a sign of…trust? Friendship?”

Autumn casts a quick look over her shoulder for reassurance from her guardian, and he gives it with a small shrug of his shoulders. He’d inspect it first, most likely. Deem it safe enough to remain in her possession. No wires or ticks–just a simple gift.

“It’s a game,” he confesses. As if the secret had been bubbling up and he could no longer withstand the pressure of it. “All about strategy. A useful thing to practice, as everything here…can apply to your life. Be aware of your surroundings. Trust in your gut, and make the move. Don’t be held back by your fears.”

Confused, her focus shifts from the heavy box to his face multiple times. Unsure of what to do or say while he seemed so passionate about a gift to a girl he hardly knew. She forces a weary smile as the distance between them grows. His hands clasped before him with a prideful look in his eyes. “Happy Birthday, Ms. Reid.”

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nihilistic-rick · 2 months

Text

Pre-break up.

Completely trashed on the K-lax crystals and the alcohol, he stumbled out of the bar, it was time to call it a night. Fishing for his keys in his pocket, he stumbled over his own feet trying to recall where he had parked. Shit, did he park the ship on the rooftop ? Ah fuck. He couldn't do rooftops at the moment. He couldn't do much of anything since he was getting trashed every other night, and substance abusing to the fullest.

He just needed to forget them for the time being, and lick his own wounds, and this was the only way he knew how to do it.

Stopping in his tracks as he heard noise from the alleyway he was passing by, he turned to look and squinted into the darkness. There was nothing there, yet he heard the noise again, almost like a can being kicked over. Reaching into his back pocket, fingers wrapped around the blade he carried, worst case scenario and he was too fucked up, he'd at least go out trying to fight.

Slow deliberate steps were being taken forward, he just wished his vision wasn't so fucked. There was noise again, this time it was the sound of a paper bag. He moved slowly and approached where the noise was coming from, when he saw it. The brown bag moved and he saw that it kept trying to head towards the wall. Raising the pocket knife over his head with one, he quickly pulled the brown bag away to reveal the source of the noises.

"Mew..." The most timid meow he had ever heard graced his ears, and he froze as he stared down at a kitten, who stared back with green hues, curled up, fear displayed. "Ah shit... Fuck.." he stepped back and closed his eyes, putting the knife away. He rubbed his face with one hand and looked down at the kitten. "Shit... Am I hallucinating..." Rubbing his face once more, he sat on his hunches, and watched the kitten. They were dirty and malnourished. "Hng.... Gave me a scare there little guy.." He couldn't help but smile a bit. "Are you lost ?.." Carefully reaching out for the kitten to sniff his hand, he eventually sat on his butt on the cement floor, waiting for the kitten to trust them. "It's okay... I won't hurt ya. Wanna come home with me ? I can make you something to eat."

Nihilistic carefully rubbed his fingers together, trying to get the kitten's attention. "Come on... You don't want to stay here..." He eventually ended up laying on the floor, watching the kitten, who came up to their face and nuzzled and licked their cheek. "There we go... I'm gonna grab you... Don't freak out..." In one swift move, he grabbed the kitten gently and scooped them up, as he stood up as well. "There we go... Let's go home Junior. I'ma call you that because I think you're a boy."

"Mew..."

Post-break up.

"Amor she's adorable and how could you not have named her any sooner." Nihilistic watched Richard interact with the kitten, who was growing by the day, becoming the most mischievous thing ever. Not to mention he enjoyed watching the kitten and Richard having staring contests. The kitten would instigate it first though. "I don't know why I didn't name them sooner, though I was tempted to just not call them anything." He answered truthfully as he took a swig from his whiskey. "Ay dios mio, no. You need to name her. So what did you name her ?" His significant other faces them briefly waiting for an answer.

Nihilistic looked over at Richard and set his tumblr down on the counter. He watched the kitten, who was too busy playing with a toy mouse and running around and hiding under their blankets.

"Cleo."

He said as he looked over at Richard and gave them a smile. "Ay que lindo, mira pero que preciousa eres." Richard went over to where Cleo was, and played with them. Nihilistic couldn't help but grin as he watched the two. "Babygirl is definitely going to be a daddy's girl." He admitted as he had grown fond and very attached to Cleo. As if she understood, she ran towards him, and slipped between his legs.

"Definitely a daddy's girl." Richard agreed with him as he looked on with a smile.

@priest-richard-sanchez

#ᶜˡᵉᵒ🐾

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babiemunson · 1 year

Text

i'll protect you

steve finds eddie regressed for the first time.

pairing: regressor!eddie munson x cg!steve harrington

cws: mention of the upside down (& demodogs and vecna)

words: 766

i was thinking - "age regression" wasn't really a well known term in the eighties. so i wanted to try and write how steve would realistically respond to coming over to eddie's trailer and finding him regressed.

—

the government is taking longer than expected to clear eddie's name. figures - they're useless.

as a result, eddie has been ordered to stay in the munsons' new trailer until everything can get figured out. he's in hiding, basically.

fun.

steve pities the guy, of course he does. so mid-may, after eddie's wounds have finally healed and he's resigned himself to being bored to death in his trailer 24/7, steve decides to surprise him with a movie.

there's no answer to steve's knock. but he and eddie have grown comfortable enough around each other by now so that he can just let himself in. he opens the door and slips inside.

"eddie?" he calls.

again, no answer. but steve's hearing isn't too good nowadays. he'll just have to wander the house until he finds eddie.

"eddie," he calls again, sing-song. "it's steve. i've got a movie and popcorn."

there's still no answer, but steve catches the faint sound of humming. he pinpoints it as coming from eddie's bedroom.

"eddie, you can't hide forever, man. i miss you - there's no way i'm leaving without at least seeing your face."

steve knocks on eddie's bedroom door. when there's still no answer, he lets himself in.

"....eddie?"

eddie looks up from where he's sitting criss cross applesauce on the floor. he's got his shirt collar in his mouth and he's chewing on it. "'teve?"

steve inches closer. when no demodogs or tentacles jump out at him, he gets down on his knees. "whaaat are you doing? what is this?" he tucks one of eddie's curls behind his ear. "are you okay? is this- is this an upside down thing?"

at the mention of the upside down, fear flashes across eddie's face. he throws himself backwards and shakes his head vehemently. his collar slips from his mouth. "no up-ide down," he cries, tears springing to his eyes. "safe? 'teve safe?"

"i'm safe, buddy." steve's eyebrows knit together. "the upside down's all gone, right? we're all safe. i just- i don't know what's up with you. are you good?"

eddie swallows hard. he shoves his thumb into his mouth and nods after a few seconds. "safe," he mumbles. "'m small."

"small," steve repeats. he looks down at what eddie had been coloring when he walked in - a bright red dragon, breathing fire at a forest. "okay. well, this certainly isn't, like, the weirdest thing i've ever seen, so. hey, you drew this?"

eddie nods again, scooting a bit closer. he takes his thumb out of his mouth. "'s you," he says. "look. 'teve."

steve follows where eddie's pointing. at the bottom of the page, there's a doodle of a knight in shining armor. he has great hair. "that's me?"

"uh huh." eddie grabs steve's hand and holds it tight. "fighting the dragon. gonna save everyone, like a hero."

"a hero," steve muses. his throat closes up; he clears it. "that's really sweet, eds."

he doesn't know where the nickname came from, but eddie lights up, and lets out the warmest giggle. "you saved me, 'teve."

well, if steve had any hopes of keeping from crying, they've just been dashed. he feels tears prick at his eyes and decides to just let them fall. eddie's in no space to judge right now. "course i saved you," he says softly. "i'll always save you."

small, he thinks again, giving eddie a once over. the guy isn't physically small, but... he's definitely not acting 20 years old.

"are you... small... a lot, eds?" steve squeezes eddie's hand.

"mhm," eddie says, and starts chewing on his shirt collar again. "have bad dreams. they make my head fuzzy and i go small." he picks up a green crayon and draws spiky grass beneath the knight's feet.

"okay. that's okay." steve slips the hair tie off of eddie's wrist and uses it to pull his hair back into a low ponytail. "hey, nothing's gonna hurt you. i'm- i'm the knight, remember? i won't let any scary dreams hurt you. i promise."

eddie looks up at him, doe eyes shiny. "you do?"

"yeah." steve gives him a misty smile. he's suddenly overcome with the urge to shield eddie from whatever dangers this world has to offer. "i'll protect you."

eddie surges forward and wraps steve in a bear hug. "tank you, 'teve," he murmurs against steve's chest.

steve feels tears trickle down his cheeks. he brings a hand up and pets the back of eddie's curls. "you're welcome, eds."

and he knows deep in his heart it's true. he won't let anything hurt eddie, ever again.

#agere #age regression #stranger things agere #fandom agere #regressor eddie munson #caregiver steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #fandom regression #indigo's posts #agere fic #agere fanfic

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yanderelovlies · 2 years

Note

So weird idea I had but…..Jack and Bo finding out their S/O is a magical girl? They’ve been living a whole ass double life as one and hiding it from them. How would they react? Would you be ok writing something like that in the future?

-Fae

Hehehehehe, I love magical girl animes that's a core childhood memory right there. Also yes Fae I'm sssssoooo fucking willing to write this 💕💕💕💕💕

You already had the role given to you by the time you had met him. You had grown to love the role not only for the power it had given you but for the smiles and praise you get from the people. However, with this role comes enemies who want your downfall at any cost. So to protect those you hold dear, you never yo anyone that nperson saving the world was you. You've done it for so long that you thought nothing of it until he came along. You loved him dearly, but it was getting harder and harder not telling him. He stuck to you glue and always worried when you were gone for too long.

One day, you couldn't keep it from him. Not when he watched you transform and beat the villain at the cost of a near hospital visit. He did awnseres and now.

Sunny Day Jack

You were in the shower when Jack came home. He was still reeling over the information. This whole time, you've been the one risking their life to protect the city. On the one hand, he is proud that you would do something so selfless.

However, on the other hand, you were risking your life and never told him. What if one day you gone without expiration? What what was he to do then?

So when you walked out of the shower clean ,cozy, and some bruises showing, he decided to finally talk to you about it. "Sunshine....can I speak to please?"

"Yeah! Of course!" You curled up on the couch facing him with an eyebrow raised. "Is everything okay?"

Jack shook his head. "I.....I know your secret....I know your the one that's been protecting everyone."

Your eyes widened at his confession, clearly taken back "how did you-"

"I saw it with my own eyes. After you left our lunch I got worried...."

"So you followed me?"

Jack could shame at the confession at following you, but he didn't let that stop him. He has to know more. "Yes, but can't you blame me? There was a fight outside, and you just ran out yelling about your house!"

You looked down, and there was a brief silence before you finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Jack....I didn't mean to keep it from you."

"Why did you?"

You looked up again, your eyes meeting his. "To protect you. I've made plenty of enemies doing this.....I didn't want you to be casualty because of me."

From ther4 you explained everything to him. How you got the powers, who your enemies are, and why you keep doing. Jack had long lost why he was upset. He was amazed by you, and how deeply you cared for him and the people.

So when you were done speaking, Jack took your hands in his "y/n thank you for telling me everything. I'm sorry if I seemed upset at first. I was just worried about you... you mean the world to me." He leaned forward and kissed your forehead. "I'm so proud of you and everything you do. You have my full support"

It's hard to see you coming home hurt, but he always helps you heal your wounds and give you praise because he loves you, and wants to support you in any way he could.

When he was in his digital prison, it was easier to hide it from him, but once he got out, he made it difficult. With his smell, he hardly got past him. So it was no surprise he found out your identity with his smell alone. Sure, it was a little distorted, but he knew it was you and wasted no time jumping your bones about it.

Maybe after a battle wasn't the best time to bring it up, but he was full of so much adrenaline he could help but tackle you as soon as your feet touched the ground.

"Puppy, are you okay?! Are you hurt anywhere?!"

You looked up to him wide eyes before trying to push him away in your panic "please citizen I-I need to go!"

Bo tilted his head, confused by your attitude. " Citizen?? It's me, Bo! Your mate!"

You could hear the gathering crowd whisper. Now everyone knows! Now Bo will be a target! Finally able to push him away, you escaped the scene before more could be said. It was going all wrong, and all you wanted to do was protect him.

Bo didn't see you till later that night. You were sobbing on the couch when he could you. "Puppy there you are!.....what's wrong?"

"You weren't suppose to know Bo!"

His eyes widened as he walked closer "......why?"

You finally looked up at him, tears still streaming down your face "because someone could hurt you.....just because your close to me.....I don't want that."

Bo could feel his worry disappear. You were worried about protecting him. As much as that made giddy, he knew you had nothing to worry about he could protect himself and you!

"Oh puppy...." He walked over and sat on the couch with you before pulling you into his arms. "I promise I'm not going anywhere no matter who makes enemies of! I will always be right here when you need me."

Maybe it was the reassurance in his voice, or you just really wanted to believe his words. Whatever the case, maybe those words put you at ease. Him knowing isn't the end.....right?

#magical girl au #sunny day jack #swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #x reader #sunny day jack x reader #something's wrong with sunny day jack x reader #swwsdj x reader #yandere x reader #dachabo bo x reader #dachabo x reader #dachabo #dachabo bo #bo x reader

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bellysoupset · 1 year

Text

He really wants a drink right now, Billy thinks, lying on his back on the couch and staring at the movie that he's pretty sure he's watched before, but he couldn't tell you the title if you asked.

He's not paying any attention, actually, and for once it's not because of all the yelling and laughing coming from the next bus or because Daisy snuck into his bus again and is making his head spin by just existing next to him. No, this time it's because of a fucking sandwich.

He had been starving after his run, trying to burn out the manic energy inside of him, so he had idiotically thought it'd be fine to buy a gas station sandwich on his way back to the bus. It had not been fine.

His stomach rolls again and Billy groans, pressing a hand against it. Right on cue, the door of his bus opens and Daisy catches the tail end of his groan and promptly misinterprets it.

"Aw c'mon, I don't snore that badly," she says in a way that is meant to hide how suddenly wounded she is by him apparently groaning at her sneaking into his bus.

Billy can't help smiling at her silly commentary. He shakes his head, leaning it against the comfortable back of the couch, "it wasn't because of you, bad timing."

"What's up then?" she asks, squinting at him. Nowadays she doesn't even ask him to join him for the night. It should be something he asks, Billy vaguely thinks. He's married. He shouldn't be sleeping next to the woman he's more than a little in love with and who happens to not be his wife.

Whatever, it's not like they do anything more than sleep. Maybe giggle like school girls, trade secrets. Sometimes they write. Often Daisy dozes off on his shoulder, because she's not good at all at watching movies and often he ends up just lying there, unable to move away while her head rests on him, considering setting his whole life on fire just so he'll have a minute more of Daisy Jones draped all over him.

"Ate something off," he shrugs, "stomach hurts."

"Aw, poor baby," Daisy coos teasingly, kicking off her boots and crawling on the couch, personal space be damned. In fact, he's pretty sure Daisy is touch starved. Whenever her walls come down, she's all over him and anyone who's near. He's watched her comb her fingers through Warren's curls for fifteen minutes uninterrupted during a rehearsal, before realizing what her hands were doing and pulling them back as if they were burning.

"Uhm," Billy makes a face at her light remark, because as pathetic as it is that he's a grown man brought down by a measly sandwich, his stomach really hurts. He rubs a hand uneasily, then feels a burp rush up his throat and swallows it down.

She's a lady and he was raised better than this. For the first time since she first asked to sleep in his bus, he wants her gone. It's embarrassing, not just because she's a lady, but because she's- Because he's in love with her, even if he won't ever say that out loud. It's mortifying that she's getting a front row seat of his disgusting plight.

As if reading his mind, which Billy is pretty convinced she can do, Daisy frowns at him and then laughs, "what? You're embarrassed? Great Billy Dunne is embarrassed?"

"Fuck off, Daisy," He groans, cheeks burning and tugs at the blanket he had draped over his legs but not actually covered himself with it. He pulls it up to cover his stomach, hiding the puffiness. Daisy doesn't miss that.

Her green eyes sparkle with mischief and Billy knows he fucked by up by giving her such an opening. Her biggest joy is to find ways to torture him.

"What's the matter, baby?"

He really, really needs a drink. Billy ignores her, continues to watch the television and pretends not to see Daisy's gigantic smile from the corner of his eye or how she moves closer. He doesn't want her any closer, his stomach let's out a loud whine and he feels gurgles roll around his inside, causing his heart to miss a beat with how horrified he is by this display. Daisy doesn't even seem to have heard it or if she did, she doesn't care.

Since he continues to ignore her, Daisy pouts and gives up trying to get his attention, draping herself on the couch next to him. She's got her arms spread out, behind the couch's back, legs criss crossed, so her knee is meeting his foot.

Billy swallows down the urge to burp again and winces as it causes his stomach to churn a little more. Daisy startles him by grabbing his ankle and he looks away from the TV, eyes wide, "Daisy?"

"Do you need something for your belly?" belly it's a childish word and it sounds weird in her raspy voice. Daisy does this thing, so does Billy, of bringing in childish words here and there, except it's for widely different reasons. In his case is because he's a father and that's how he talks with his kid. He says tummy. Daisy, in the other hand, is because she never had anyone tell her to stop. No parents to subconsciously show when to stop using childish language.

"Billy?" She's looking up at him, with those big green eyes filled with concern and he allows himself to groan, loudly this time, when butterflies join the mess in his belly.

"No, I think I'll just try to sleep. It should pass on it's own," he's not lying, but not quite telling the truth. His stomach feels unsettled enough that he knows sleep won't come easy.

Daisy nods, "okay... But let me know if I can get you anything- Well, not me, Rod," she rolls her eyes, as if that's obvious, "...I'm gonna turn off the lights, alright?"

He nods, so she gets to it and turns off the lights, once again getting in the couch. There's a perfectly large spot available, so she can sleep without ever touching him, but instead Daisy grabs her pillow - that now lives in his bus - and pulls it closer to his side of the U shaped couch.

"Daisy-"

"Shhh," she says, then grabs the remote and turns off the TV, no thought given to the movie he was, theoretically, watching, "get some sleep so you'll feel better."

It's so sweet, it makes his mouth water. Billy gulps down, then moves on the couch, struggling to find a good position. When he does, he wraps his arms around his belly and in the dark allows one hand to slip under his shirt to rub it.

It is gurgling something awful and Billy squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will it to stop. Another churn causes him to bite down a groan, because it felt horrible. Liquid and nauseating.

He hears as Daisy turns in the couch, then feels her hand wrapping around his ankle again, as if he's a teddy bear she needs to hold. It's weird.

Billy rubs at his chest and this time around, when a bubble goes up again, he can't bring himself to swallow. He allows his cheeks to puff out and lets it out in his fist, cursing himself for belching when Daisy is literally right there-

Daisy lets out a sigh and then she starts rubbing her thumb up and down the bone of his ankle, in a weirdly soothing way, "I can tell you're awake," she says and Billy huffs, but doesn't answer. She doesn't say anything else, not until his stomach let's out another disgusting whine.

He swallows the thick saliva, that tastes tangy, like the sandwich. Daisy moves, let's go of his ankle and he can vaguely see her sitting up, figure standing out because of the street lights faintly getting through the windows.

"Billy, that sounded horrible."

"Uhm-" he sits up correctly too, feet meeting the carpeted ground and hangs his head, giving up on fighting the urge to burp. A wet belch slips pasts his lips and all he can say is a sad, "excuse me... I'm sorry, I know this is gross, but I really don't feel well..."

She scoffs, "Billy, please, you've seen me do much worse," Daisy says and yeah, that is true. Between the insane amount of drugs she was using a couple months ago and the overdose he witnessed, he did see her at her lowest. But it is Daisy... And even at her worse she had seemed beautiful and dream like.

He feels painfully, disgustingly human.

She scoots closer, then places a hand in the middle of his back and rubs up and down. Her nails are soothing as they meet the hair on the base of his nape and comb at it. Billy burps again, bringing his hand to muffle it. It tastes like the sandwich, so much so it causes his eyes to water.

"Honey, you don't sound good," she says and he fights the urge to apologize again, because he knows she doesn't mean it like that.

"Uhm..." he swallows the saliva accumulating in his mouth, "you should sleep in the guys bus-"

"Please," he hears the exasperation in her voice, "you feeling sick is way less disruptive than them behaving like a pack of monkeys on woollies."

Billy lets out a weak chuckle, but then his stomach cramps and he feels the hot prickles of nausea run down his back. He feels clammy, "I'm gonna be sick," he groans, staggering up and Daisy jumps too.

He doesn't think he can make it all the way to the back of the bus to the cramped bathroom, so he tries moving forward. The driver isn't on yet, they would've heard the beeps or even felt the movement.

Billy barely makes it. He jumps the two final steps of the stairs leading outside and the inertia hits him like a punch to the gut, so he's throwing up before even fully standing on the ground. In fact, he goes down to his knees, only to hear Daisy let out a nervous, "Billy!" and then grab him by the shoulders, stopping him from getting on all fours in a puddle of his own sick.

His stomach feels sour and warm and even as the first gush of vomit empties out, he doesn't feel any better. If anything, he feels worse. His head is spinning and his belly cramps again.

"Shhh, just let it up," Daisy says sweetly, concern dripping from her words as she holds him steady by the bicep, her free hand planted between his shoulder blades, "c'mon, you'll feel better."

He doubts it.

His stomach rolls again and Billy groans, pressing on it, causing another burp to rush up, this one bringing a dribble of vomit along with it. It's liquid and unsatisfactory, so Billy digs his fingers deeper on his belly, rubbing another gush of chunky vomit.

This one is thick enough to cause him to choke and then another gagging fit overtakes him and he can hear Daisy curse faintly in the distance as there's a buzzing in his ears and he struggles to breath.

When he finally manages to get enough air, he can feel her hand on his forehead, giving his head some support, worry rolling off of her.

Billy pants for the longest time, daring to open his eyes and then squeezing them shut again as he sees the horrifying splattered mess on the gravel.

"Sorry... m'done," he spits the bitter taste in his mouth, then wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes. He doesn't feel any better, but Billy knows himself. It's very rare for him to throw up more than once, his self control is something he's proud of.

"Are you sure?" Daisy says, and he only then realizes she was holding his hair away from his mouth. As if it's not disgusting, she moves that hand that's on his forehead to stroke over his cheek, crouching next to him, "Billy?"

He loves her, fuck.

"Yeah, I'm good..." he grabs her for support and pulls himself up, causing Daisy to almost fall. She might be steadier on her feet than he is at the moment, but she's still considerably shorter.

"Okay..." she doesn't let go of him even for a second, following him back inside the bus. Instead of falling on her own side of the couch, as he'd expect, she sits right next to him and then pats her lap when he eyes her weirdly, "c'mere."

"Daisy..."

"C'mere you huge manbaby," she scoffs, tugging at his sweat drenched shirt and Billy doesn't have it in him to even pretend he doesn't want her comfort. He rests his head on her lap and she sighs, sliding down on the couch, enough that his head is nested between her lap and stomach instead of her thighs. Her cold fingers feel heavenly in his hair, nails scratching his scalp here and there.

Daisy looks all delicate, but her fingers are actually quite rough, from playing the guitar. He loves the sensation, it's so very her.

"You poor thing," Daisy mumbles, causing him to huff in annoyance, then press his face to her naked stomach. He's never seen her wear anything that covered her midsection, it drives him up the walls.

"Sandwich one, Billy zero," he groans, voice thick with the nausea still swirling in his belly. He wants to puke again, but he's not going to.

Daisy chuckles, moves one of her hands to his chest and leaves it there, "I can ask Rod for tea..."

"It's fine," Billy sighs, "I'm fine, this is so... So silly, there's no need to bother anyone."

"At least drink some water?"

Water sounds great, but that means getting up to get it or having Daisy get up and he really feels terribly comfy with his head on her lap. Billy shakes his head, "not now."

"Stubborn asshole," she mumbles darkly and then yawns, "get some rest, baby."

The earnest petname, not in mockery as she normally says it, causes him to blush and move closer. Vaguely Billy thinks he really shouldn't be cuddling the woman he's doing his hardest not to fall even more in love with, when he's married, when they could never ever be together...

Daisy folds in half and he feels her press her lips to the top of his head and then yawn again, settling against the couch. Billy doesn't move from her lap until morning.

#myfanfic #not tagging any of the characters for obvs reasons #i wanted to write a belly rub so much but I think daisy genuinely wouldnt even know they're a thing #and billy would rather walk into open traffic than ever ask for one

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cardierreh15 · 1 year

Text

Believer

I do not give permission to anyone to copy or repost my work!!

Warnings 18+: Slight Angst , Flirting , Mentions of Sex , Fluff 💕💗

Pairing: Clark Kent x Cardíerre James (black!plus size female)

Description: Clark decides to welcome Cardí back to the daily planet in a special way.

Side Note: This is a part one. I wrote way too much to keep anyone's attention I feel. Part two's link will be at the bottom.

Word Count: 5.7K

Song: Happy Feelings by Maze & Frankie Beverly

Chapter 3: Moment for life

‘Wait you’re seriously going to go back to work?! What about your hand girl?!’ Her mother asked in a worrisome tone.

‘What about it? It’s fine— Aah!’ She whimpered out as her mom snatched up her hand and pressed her thumb into the wound gently. Even with such a gentle brush over the damaged flesh, it still hurts like hell.

‘Hmph.’ Her mother scoffed with a smirk before letting go of her hand and turning back towards the stove.

‘That’s not funny, mom.’ Cardi mumbled holding her wrist in her free palm, ‘You know the antibiotics only work so fast. Besides, it’s a lot better than it was when I was in the hospital.’

Janice didn’t say anything else, she just stirred at the grits in the pot.

‘Mom, look I need this. Since the fire and the hospital and being stuck here, I have been miserable!’

‘Oh!? I’m making you miserable?!’ Her mother’s head popped up and she turned to fully face her daughter.

‘No. I never said that but you know my job— my career is everything to me. I have to get back out there… see what’s been going on— see what he’s been up to.’

‘Oh Jesus Christ, not him again!’ Janice laughed and threw her hand up and rolled her eyes. She walked over to the sink to gather some water in a cup.

‘What do you mean “not him again”?! He solidified my career! He saved my life!’

‘And had he been there much sooner, you wouldn’t have had to worry about missing work because you would’ve been going! But instead you ended up in the hospital, barely breathing and choking to death because you were doing his job! He risked your life!’

Cardierre rolled her eyes and burst out in hysterical laughter, ‘Wow! You are so cynical! Have you thought for a single second that I went into that building on my own?! I told you this a hundred times! I wasn’t looking for a savior mama. But he did and you should be grateful he did! What would Batman have done?!’

Janice raised a brow as she continued stirring, ‘Don’t bring that fool into this. He ain’t no saint either.’ She paused for a second, ‘Probably would’ve—broken your legs for attempting something so idiotic.’ She snickered.

Cardi’s head fell forward as she tried to hide that laugh but instead, it showed in her bouncing shoulders.

‘Yeah, that guy is a piece of work.’ She sighed out as she pushed her feathery hair out of her face. Cardi then took a step closer to her mother, placing her hand on her arm reassuringly, ‘Look mom. I know you worry for my health. But this is what I want! I’m ready.’

Janice sighed and looked up at her daughter for a long moment, ‘Well you’re grown hell! You can do what you want!’ She said as she brushed her daughter’s shoulders then her chest. ‘I just thought I was doing what was best for ya… that’s all.’ She said softly.

‘I understand but only I know what’s best for me, mama. I flew from the nest years ago, you gotta let me live my life.’

Janice sighed and nodded, ‘I know it. Just— be careful alright? And if you run across that fool in the red cape, tell him I owe him my foot in his ass.’

Cardierre giggled and nodded, ‘I’ll be sure to tell him, ma. I’ll see you and dad later.’ She said as she pressed a kiss against her cheek and scooped her purse up off of the kitchen counter.

***

Cardi had parked in front of the building, gathered her belongings and stepped out of her car. She stared up at the slowly rotating globe with a gentle smile curling on her lips. It felt like years but in reality, it had only been about a month and a half.

‘Ms. Lane!’

She snapped out of her gaze and looked over at the valet, ‘Terrance! Hi!’ She grinned as she shut her door and walked around her car to meet him.

‘Welcome back, Ms. Lane! I heard about the fire and I just want to say you are really brave. I personally wouldn't have done it.’ He chuckled as he placed his hand over his chest.

Cardierre chuckled and placed her keys in his palm as he reached out for them, ‘Well that’s why we’re two different people. Behave out here.’ She said as she walked past him and towards the double glass doors.

‘Yes ma’am!’ He called out.

***

No one expected her to be back so soon. So she found herself laughing at the stunned reactions of her coworkers and members from other departments down in the lobby.

She stood in the elevator, taking a deep breath. She was starting to feel so anxious about being back. Maybe she was afraid that no one missed her. Or she’d been replaced with someone who was more dependable. No, no— Perry wasn’t like that. If he was going to fire her, he would’ve told her already. She knew better than that.

When the elevator dinged and the large metal doors tore apart, Cardierre stepped out into the busy, bustling office. Her ears throbbed at the sound of phones ringing, papers printing, conversations amongst her peers and typing. She left it just like this.

‘H-hey! Look everybody! Cardierre’s back!’ Someone said aloud.

Everyone in the office space had snapped their heads towards the lady in baby blue. Mumbles and whispers filled the room, seconds before everyone stood to their feet and applauded her.

Cardi wasn’t big on attention. Oddly enough with her career choice, she tried to stray away from being the center of it. But now and then, it did feel nice to be recognized for her efforts.

She looked around the room, taking in all the familiar faces and took note of those who called to check up on her and sent her get well soon gifts.

She had given her peers a sweet grin before her wandering eyes landed on Clark who had just stood up and joined in on the celebration. He had this ecstatic grin spread across his lips.

She felt her heart squeeze in her chest, pleased to see his handsome face.

When the clapping had died down, she placed a hand on her chest, ‘Thank you… for the warm welcome back everyone. If only you all knew the things I’ve endured while being away. Recovering wasn’t the hardest part of it all… but my mother is back in town—‘ the room echoed with laughter.

Cardierre chuckled and pushed her hair behind her ear, ‘But on a more serious note, thank you guys so much for not burning this place down and making this my second home to come back to.’

‘Welcome Back Cardii!’ Steve called out before the office clapped once again.

A brighter smile curled on her lips before she looked over to see Clark adjusting his glasses, then running his fingers through his hair. Was he– was he grooming himself?

Clearing her throat, she walked over to her desk where Clark stood. He wore a dark plaid shirt that was tucked into his khaki slacks. The color really brought out the brightness in his ocean blue hues. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms and he donned a dark gray g-shock on his left wrist. What he wore was simple but he filled it out real nice.

‘Hey Cardi, Welcome back!’

‘Thank You, Clark. It feels good to be back.’ She smiled up at him, her big brown orbs studying his features. His skin! He probably had the most perfect skin she’d ever seen! Almost like glass, it was smooth all the way across. Practically like a porcelain doll but so lively. But aside from that, she’d noticed how familiar he was- but she couldn’t exactly pinpoint it.

‘Cardi? Cardi? Cardierre–’ he waved his hand in her face before she had finally blinked her way back to reality.

‘Oh-oh!’

‘Back to Earth now?’ he chuckled as he folded broad arms across his chest.

She chuckled, shaking her head before feeling her face and neck grow warm. She wasn’t exactly the type to be embarrassed about checking someone out but, this was her hot ass coworker. The one who she had caught staring at her a few times before her absence. ‘You good?’ he asked kindly.

‘Yeah, I’m cool. It’s just… I know this is super dumb and maybe it’s all the medication I was taking in the hospital but– Clark have we met before? Y’know like outside of work?’

Clark raised a brow as he cleared his throat, ‘Uh,’ Then he proceeded to rub the back of his neck, ‘What do you mean like–’

‘Like I mean have we interacted or worked together… I just get the feeling that I know you from somewhere or at least, seen you.’

Clark looked down at her as he dropped his hands and shoved them in his pockets.

It grew quiet between the both of them before– ‘Had that been the case Cardierre, you would’ve been hard to forget.’

A smirk curled on Cardi’s lightly glossed lips, ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’

‘It means how could someone possibly forget a smile like yours.’

She laughed and playfully slapped his arm. She allowed her hand to linger there for a moment too long. He was firm beneath his thick plaid long sleeve. She was almost tempted to ask him if he worked out but her attention was stricken by how Perry’s blinds were closed. ‘Where’s Perry?’ she asked, dropping her hand; placing her purse down on her desk.

‘Oh, He had to leave work a little early today. He thinks he got food poisoning.’ Clark gritted his teeth together as he inhaled deeply, then let out a deep breath.

‘Aw no,’ she said in a slight whine, ‘I was hoping to see him today.’ She pulled out her desk chair and sat down, noticing all the “Get Well Soon” trinkets and cards. ‘Aaw,’ she giggled softly and looked up at him for a second before carefully unpinning the card with the tacks.

Clark smiled down at her as he folded his arms over his chest, ‘Mine is on the top. You should look at that one first.’ He seemed a bit more confident than usual.

Cardi looked up at him with a smirk and raised a brow, ‘What are you up to mister?’ she giggled as she gently tugged the light pink ribbon that was wrapped around the card all cute and delicate like.

She then opened up the card and two rectangular cut cards fell in her lap. ‘What’s this?’ She gently placed the card on the desktop and picked up what had appeared to be tickets.

‘Those are tickets to the carnival. I thought it would be a nice welcome back gift… Since you like running into burning buildings – I figured you may enjoy something that would give you an adrenaline rush while being safer.’

Cardierre laughed and spun around in her seat to look up at him, ‘You got jokes huh?’

Clark chuckled and shrugged, ‘Just a few… so,’ he pressed his lips together, ‘What do ya say?’

Her head fell to the side as she crossed a leg over the other, lacing her fingers together and resting them on her knee.

‘You askin’ me on a date?’

Clark was taken back by the question, his whole entire face flushing bright pink at the question. ‘Uh–’

‘You are asking me on a date…’ she smiled up at him.

‘It would be whatever you want it to be… Or," he said, standing up straight. There he was again, scratching the back of his neck and then rubbing his chest in a nervous manner, ‘Maybe you can just take the tickets and go with another frie–’

‘Clark…’ she raised a brow, ‘I told Steve no, on many occasions and on many fun outings…’ she looked away at the word, trying to avoid the term for the moment since it wasn’t official. ‘What kind of person would I be if I told you yes and rejected him all those times?’

Clark glanced off to the side and swallowed his spit. She was right. What was he thinking? She was out of his league! Gorgeous, smart, funny, career driven… he wasn’t her type or –

Cardi laughed out, ‘Oh my gosh, if you could see how you look right now!’

Clark was thrown off by the remark, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable since he felt like she was teasing him.

‘I’m only kidding! Lighten up, man!’ She said as she tried to recover from her giggly state, ‘I would love to go on a carnival date with you.’ Her big humorous grin had softened and eventually faded into a subtle, approving smile. But she never took her eyes off of his face.

He then chuckled and placed his hand over his chest, ‘Well, that’s a relief!’ He said as he adjusted his glasses again, hiding his face. trying his damndest to hide that blush that just burned against his flesh.

She smirked as she spun back around to face her desk and the rest of the cards.

The pair sat in that space in a comfortable silence. Clark just watched her, analyzing. He thought it was cute how when she laughed, she did so with her soul. The sound was delightful to his ears. He’d make her laugh all day if it meant he got to hear it.

Her shoulders would bounce effortlessly, her eyes would shut and her head would fall back carelessly since she just didn’t know what to do with herself.

He liked when a woman could simply let go and be herself; carefree, spontaneous and adventurous.

Perhaps she’d fit perfectly in his complicated world after all.

‘So, you wanna go tonight or—‘

‘I’m down. I kinda—�� she glanced to the side, ‘Need to get away from my parents for a few hours anyway.’ She sounded annoyed. And that was an understatement. It was nice having her parents around to help her since the fire but now she felt like they were overstaying their welcome. Her mother particularly.

‘Oh. Well at least it’s nice that your parents were around to help. How was your healing?’ He asked a bit concerned, noticing how she balled up her fist as tight as she possibly could.

She let out a whimper so soft, only she and he could hear it. It was itchy. Sore. And sometimes it burned when the wind blew the wrong way.

‘As helpful as they’ve been— they were pretty intolerable.’ She scoffed and shook her head. Then she looked at her balled up fist, ‘It hurts sometimes… too much pressure makes it feel like my skin is cracking but it’s better than what it was.’ She gave him a soft smile.

‘Oh,’ he hissed as she described her healing, ‘I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘No, it’s fine… I mean— it’s best that the guy who’s taking me on a date tonight,’ she hinted, ‘Gets to know me and how I’m feeling anyway, right?’ She smirked.

An enlarged grin curled up on his handsome face, ‘Well if he’s smart enough he would.’ He chuckled, ‘What time should I come get you? Or… should we just meet there?’

‘I can pick you up.’ She said softly before reaching down beneath her desk and pressing the power button.

Clark was a little taken back by the request, ‘no, no— it’s fine! I’ll come get you.’ He chuckled.

She smiled softly, ‘you sure?’

‘Positive.’

‘OK, well— there’s somewhere I wanna go when we’re done. Is that cool?’ She asked softly with a smile.

‘We can go wherever you’d like.’ He said as he rested his body against the short cubicle wall.

***

‘Whose this boy you’re going out with Cardi?’ A deep voice boomed throughout the condo.

Cardi rolled her eyes as she blended her contour into her cheeks. ‘He’s no boy papa. He is a man,’ she tried to hide the smirk on her lips, ‘a rather, good looking man.’ She murmured.

‘Oh leave that girl alone! When was the last time she went out with a guy?’

Clarence walked into the bathroom, ‘What happened to that handsome fella?! What was his name?’ He pinched and smooth at his salt and peppered beard, looking up as if an answer was going to appear above his head, ‘oh,’ he snapped his fingers, ‘Lee! That’s his name! What happened to Lee!’

Cardierre scoffed and turned around to look at her father, ‘Oh you mean that douchebag that worked under Bruce?!’

‘He was well off!’ He argued back.

‘Pfffft!’ She rolled her eyes as her mother walked in the bathroom.

‘Lee was a selfish prick and I would never go out with him again.’

Janice pressed her lips together and looked over at her husband, ‘She has her mother’s values.’ She shrugged and leaned against the counter, ‘Anyway, who is this guy?’ She asked curiously.

Cardi sighed dreamily as she placed her sponge down on the counter, ‘His name is Clark. He’s so sweet, and funny, and tall, and handsome, and—‘

‘Ugh! OK OK, he’s the whole package.’ Her father interrupted.

She snapped her neck back at her father with this less than amused glare written on her face. Her pretty features, appearing more dramatic than before.

‘Clarence,’ her mother stood up straight and pushed him out of the bathroom, ‘Gone! Gone, GIT! Get out, you ain’t no damn help!’

‘What?! What did I do?!’ He exclaimed.

She slammed the door and locked it. Then she turned around to face her daughter, ‘Unlike your good for nothing papi—‘

Cardierre giggled as she shook her head.

‘I am very happy for you baby. Now, where’d y’all meet?’

‘Well,’ she sighed out, ‘We met a few months ago. He was at the Planet before I was transferred there apparently but he was away…’ she trailed off, ‘But I can’t help but feel like he and I met somewhere before.’ She raised a brow and turned back towards the mirror and applied some setting dust.

‘Hmmm… maybe a passerby? You know your mind is capable of remembering someone you’ve only glanced at.’

‘Yeah…I mean…’ she paused for a second and shrugged, ‘I don’t know. It’s just been 3 years since I’ve been with someone … romantically—‘ she gritted the next word, ‘sexually.’

‘Whoa, whoa— hey I don’t wanna hear about that missy. I’m still ya mama.’ Janice waved her hands in defense.

‘Sorry maaa.’ Cardi trailed off.

Then, the doorbell sounded throughout the condo. ‘He’s here! Oh my god! He’s here! I’m not even done! I’m not even dressed!’ She began to panic! Her heart rammed hard in her rib cage, she began to hyperventilate.

‘Cardi! Cardierre, look!’ Janice grabbed her daughter by her arms, ‘You’re gonna be fine. If he’s anything like you say— he will wait for you.’

Cardi’s full lips trembled, ‘For real? You mean that for real ma?!’

‘Of course sweetie. Lemme go get the door!’

‘OK…’ she said.

***

Clark pressed the blue ring light on the door and stood up straight. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the soft feathers out of his face. He then dust off his free hand and held a dozen long stem roses in the other. ‘Alright, Clark. Be cool. It’s cool.’ He cleared his throat before he focused his hearing when he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. That wasn’t Cardierre. Then he remembered…

He gasped.

‘CLAARK!’

Her parents.

Her mother exclaimed and quickly wrapped him up in a hug quicker than he could have imagined. ‘Ooh! Uh—‘ he stood there with his arms open wide, glancing down at the much smaller woman. ‘You must be—‘

‘Janice,’ she pulled away and clasped her hands together happily, ‘Cardierre’s mom! Here are those for her?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Lemme take those! Wow these are beautiful, Clark. Come on! Come in!’ She grabbed his hand and tugged him inside.

Clark swallowed his spit before scoffing nervously and adjusted his leather coat.

‘Make yourself at home honey!’ She waved her hand about as she searched in the kitchen for a tall vase.

‘Yeah… thank you.’ He then noticed the other heartbeat in the room. It caused him to turn his head to the right. A man, who appeared to be her father, sat in the recliner, rocking back and forward slowly as he smoked on a perfectly polished wooden pipe.

‘Hi sir!’ Clark said as he lifted his hand in a respectful manner.

Clarence just kept rocking with his thick glasses sitting at the tip of his nose. He gave him a gentle jerk of the head as he watched Clark sit down on the sofa across from him.

The space grew eerily quiet. Clark could hear everything at this point. The resting heart rates of the elders in the apartment space, the cars riding on the asphalt several floors down from where they were. But then he heard whispering. Her whispering… he felt at ease for a moment.

It’s alright. It’s only a date. You haven’t been with a man in a few years but you haven’t lost your flare. Maybe if it goes well enough tonight you’ll probably give him some ass… no. No, he’ll probably think you’re a certified slut. Lord, I just hope everything goes smooth tonight… Heaven knows I just want that man to wrap those arms that he so desperately hides from everyone, around me… am I asking for too much?

‘So where y’all headed tonight?’ A deep voice filled the silent void.

The gentle smile Clark had written on his lips had faltered only a bit to focus on her father, ‘Uh, we’re— I'm taking her to the festival. I figured she deserved to have a bit of fun…’ and to get away from you wackos too.

‘Hmph.’

‘Awww,’ her mother cooed as she walked into the living room with a glass of water, ‘How romantic! That was me and Clarence’s first date! He was terrified of roller coasters,’ she giggled aloud as she placed the glass on a coaster in front of him. ‘Poor thing. Do you like that kind of stuff?’

Did he? The man flew around for fun. It was almost second nature to be up in the air. ‘Umm… if you’re asking if I’m afraid of heights, no ma’am I’m not.’ He reached over and wrapped his hand around the glass of water to take a sip.

‘Alright, enough of this small talk shit— are you gonna marry my daughter?!’ Clarence exclaimed, sitting at the edge of his seat.

Clark choked on his water at the sudden outburst.

‘CLARENCE!’

‘It’s a serious question, Janice hush! I’m trying to have a serious conversation with my future son in law— now,’ he turned his attention back to Clark, ‘You gone break my daughter’s heart?’

Clark had just finished recovering from damn near choking to death when he glared at her father, ‘I—I guess! If she wants to marry me, I mean—‘

‘Good answer boy. Good answer.’ Clarence sat back as he took a long drag of his pipe.

Clark then looked at her mother with confusion written in his crystal blue hues.

‘Clark! Are you there?’ Cardi called out from down the hall.

Thank God.

‘Yeah! I’m here!’ He stood up from his spot as he held his glass of water in his hand.

‘OK! I’m coming now!’

Clark took a long, final sip before placing the glass back down on the coaster.

Finally, she emerged from the long hallway. And he was completely mesmerized by her. She wore a gray body con dress that was scrunched up from her thighs to her hips; with two elastic strings tied at her silky smooth thighs. She filled out that dress so nicely; taking up all the room it had to offer.

She donned a silver anklet with a dangling letter “C” on it. And she wore shiny black Tory Burch sandals that brought out the brightness of her White toenail polish. Infatuation wasn’t even the word he’d use for how he felt about her at this moment. Fondness? Adoration.

‘Wow… Cardierre you look—‘ he let out a shudder of a sigh. He never really got to see her outside of lady suits, long skirts and slacks. But he could tell she was much more comfortable in casual clothing than business professional. Which made her all the more gorgeous. ‘Stunning.’

Cardi grinned, her head falling to the side as she clutched her purse strap in her healthy palm, ‘Thanks. Are you ready?’

‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’ He smiled softly.

‘Alright! Well you two have fun now.’ Janice said as she walked over to grab her daughter and practically pushed them towards the front door.

‘Have my daughter home by 9!’ Her father called out.

Clark looked down at his watch and raised a brow, ‘But it’s 9:01?’ It was more of a question than it was a statement.

‘Well have her home by 10!’ Clarence shouted.

Cardierre rolled her eyes as the pair walked out of the door.

‘Oh please. Don’t pay that man any mind, Clark. Y’all come back when ya done. Have a good time babies.’ Her mother said softly, waving her hand happily before she shut the door.

Cardierre let out an embarrassed chuckle before looking up at Clark, ‘Shit. I apologize for my parents. They are…’ she sighed, shaking her head, ‘Overbearing. I hope I didn’t leave you stranded out there like that.’

Clark chuckled and shook his head, ‘It’s alright. I’m not expecting everyone to like me.’ He shrugged, ‘Besides, your father is kind of funny.’ He added as he pushed his thick locs out of his face.

She let out an embarrassed scoff, ‘You think he’s funny now. Give him a while… he’ll annoy you eventually.’ She rolled her eyes.

***

The drive on the way to the carnival was entertaining. It did start out a little awkward since they couldn’t find anything to talk about. So Clark turned on the radio. They sang everything they possibly could under the moon the station could’ve possibly offered.

When they made it to the carnival, Cardi sat in the car until he got out and came to get her door. She thanked him as she placed her hand in his and stepped out of the truck.

Once they made it inside of the carnival, Clark looked down at Cardi who had this look of endearment on her face. She was taking in all of the lights and rides and the games. He was glad he’d chosen to bring her here tonight. ‘So, what do you wanna do first? Wanna catch some rides?’

‘Rides? I never took you to be a roller coaster kind of guy Clark!’ She grinned as they walked side by side.

Clark smirked, ‘Everyone says that. Listen, I may be a nerd but— I know how to have fun too. Come on. Let’s go on that big one over there.’ He grabbed her hand and they walked over to the line hand in hand.

Luckily, the line was short and they were able to get on and experience the tallest rollercoaster at the carnival. With all the loops and sharp turns, Cardi felt like she was going to fall out of that old thing. But the grip that Clark had on her, she just had the blissful feeling of being safe. So when the ride did its second rotation, she was a bit more comfortable now and even found herself screaming and throwing her hands up with her partner.

When they got off that ride, she did her best to stand up straight but her legs grew wobbly. She eventually lost the little balance she had and landed in his arms.

‘Whup!—‘ Clark exclaimed in a bit of a laughing fit as he caught her just in time so she wouldn’t eat the dirt they stood on, ‘You alright?!’

Cardi laughed and stood up straight, ‘I’m good! I just haven’t been on a rollercoaster in ages!’ She cleared her throat and smoothed out her dress. ‘That was so fun.’ She giggled a bit as she looked up at Clark.

Clark looked down at her, his oceanic blue eyes gazing into her pools of honey. He just couldn’t help when he was around her. She was just so pretty. Then he cleared his throat, looking away for a second before he caught a glimpse of a little girl walking past with this big cone of cotton candy.

‘Hey! You down for some cotton candy? I haven’t had any since I was a kid!’

She gazed into his eyes, pressing her full glossy lips together. ‘I’d follow you anywhere… just take the lead.’ Once Cardi realized what she had said, she placed her hand on her chest. That was awfully bold of her.

He then smirked and held his left hand out towards her. Waiting for her to place her hand in his.

She then looked down at his palm; kind of skeptical about this. What if she was just damaged goods? Cardierre wasn’t perfect and had a lot of baggage that hadn't been exactly resolved yet. She was just afraid to scare him away and ruin her chance at a happy life. She knew that Clark was a good man. There was no denying that.

But the other half of her wanted to jump into the deep end! Let go and be completely free with him. He may help heal her in all the right places. But she wouldn’t know, if she didn’t try.

So she smiled up at him and placed her small right hand in his much larger one. And with that, Clark immediately wrapped her hand up in a warm embrace. She braced herself from the searing pain in her palm, but his touch was so gentle— it was almost as if there was no burn there in the first place.

‘Just let me know if it hurts too bad.’ He said softly as they both turned to walk towards the food truck.

‘I will.’

***

The night consisted of them eating a ton of crap that would clog up their arteries. Foot long corn dogs, cotton candy, caramel popcorn, and Fried Oreos. It was a miracle they weren’t hugging the toilets! Between their snack times, they had been on 3 more roller coasters and wreaked havoc with the bumper cars.

‘It’s too bad the Ferris wheel is down! It’s such a gorgeous night!’ Clark said as he wrapped his heavy arm around her shoulders.

‘That’s cool! I have another place in mind though.’ She smiled up at him before looking ahead at the guy trying to lure people in for a game of “Hit The Bell!” He had enormous bears, unicorns, and bananas. Her eyes twinkled at the sight. She wanted one! But before she could say something he spoke up.

‘Hey! Check this out!’ He let go of her hand and walked towards the guy, asking him how much for a game.

‘It’ll be $10 for 3 swings! $18 for 6!’

Little did he know, it would only take one swing.

‘Cool! Let’s do the 3!’ He paid the guy in cash and then took off his leather coat and handed it off to Cardi.

Her eyes slightly grew at the sight before her. Beneath that thick leather coat, he donned a dark blue long sleeved thermal that just hugged his body.

It hugged and outlined his chiseled muscles; defining those curves and cuts. Cardi was flabbergasted!

‘Thank you sir.’ Clark said as the man handed him off the large hammer. Typically, these were heavy, which made the swings a bit tougher. But he lifted it like it was light work.

Cardi held their coats close to her chest, squeezing them as her eyes glassed over with amazement. She was heavily invested.

Clark held the hammer in his fists for a moment before bringing it up and down against the black stump. The black knob quickly flew up and Cardi’s eyes followed it all the way up. When the knob touched the bell, Clark grinned in such a knowing way. Of course he’d win.

‘Alright! Can you do that two more times? Win that pretty lady over there one of these big ole’ teddies!’ The older male said.

‘Too easy.’ Clark shrugged before swinging it once more and again after that.

To say that Cardierre was impressed was an understatement! She was ecstatic! She found herself just smiling out of control.

‘Which one do you want, Cardi?!’ He called out to her.

‘The Unicorn! I want the Unicorn!’ She squealed out happily.

Clark chuckled and gave the gentleman a nod before he watched him grab the metal stick and bring it down from the rack. When the man placed the prize in Clark’s arms, he thanked him and walked over to his date who was dancing happily.

Her tap dancing had stopped and clapped joyfully.

‘Oh it’s so cute! I love it!’

He chuckled before swapping their coats out with the plush pink gift. ‘Yeah. Now, you gotta promise to keep it safe for me.’ He said softly.

She hugged its neck, snuggling the toy with the brightest grin on her lips, ‘I’ll protect it with my life!’ She giggled before they walked off, hand in hand again.

It was now 11:45 pm and they were finally walking out to Clark’s truck. Cardi released her hand from Clark’s and walked to the driver's side. Clark stopped in his tracks, ‘What are you doing missy? I’m supposed to be driving— I’m the gentleman!’

Cardi opened up the back door, throwing the pink unicorn there.

‘Truuue but— I don’t wanna ruin the surprise by giving you the directions,’ she shut the door and stepped to the driver’s door, ‘Just give me the keys and enjoy the ride pretty boy.’ She said as she shot him a wink, stepped on the step and hopped inside of the vehicle.

He chuckled before shaking his head and walking to the other side of the vehicle.

Part II 👇🏾👇🏾👇🏾

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