#i knew his hair was just white and grey under that hat

[chainelunaire]

a heart of a jack of clubs

(7,4k words. angst through and through, somehow ambigious ending. slowburn. so slow, it takes them quarter of a century to fuck.)

when you’re almost 8 months pregnant, you meet scaramouche.

it’s pretty awkward, actually - you sit under a tree in a chinju forest, trying to breathe, but you do a pretty bad job at that. everything hurts so much, you hoped no one would hear your crying, but gods like to laugh at you. you close your eyes from time to time, hoping you would never open them again. you never knew that giving birth is such a challenge, you only heard of it, and you thought you’ve prepared yourself. but it was supposed to be a month more untill you meet your child. and now, well, yeah. nothing is ever right in your life.

when you open your eyes again, after getting so tired of screaming and maybe losing your consciousness for a minute, there’s three of them right in front of you: a little girl with soft white hair in a pretty green dress, touching your forehead. a man with a stark red strand in his light grey hair, his gaze is so worried and pained. the third man stays behind those two, and you can’t even comprehend how he looks like.

“i think she’s dying” girls says a little too brightly. the man with white hair looks a little bit bewildered.

“don’t say it like that!”

“does it matter?” the third man says. “open your eyes, kaedehara. she is dying.”

“still, you can hurt her with this even more” the kind man sits in front of you - his touch is blessedly chill against your feverish skin. “lady, can you hear me? can you understand what i say to you?”

you can only blink slowly in response. because of the pain you can’t really scream anymore, but tears start streaming down your face once again. you want to ask them to kill you, because you’ve suffered for god knows how many hours by now. maybe you even do ask them, considering that the girl now frowns, the kind man tries to wipe your tears away and even the third man stiffens because of your cries.

“i am no expert, but i think it’s a preterm birth.” girl says, her tone really sad now “she really might die. we need to move her in some more of a clean space, quickly.”

“we can’t really move her, you know?” girl turns her head and you guess her gaze makes the third man sigh loudly. “okay, okay, don’t look at me like that” you hear his steps and he finally bends in front of you. you can’t really see his face because of how ridiculously big his hat is, but his voice is much softer now when he speaks to you directly “hold on my shoulders, lady, we’re gonna take a quick ride.”

you do as he says, feeling another wave of terrible pain shuttering your body. almost laying on his chest, yet you hear no heartbeat. his skin velvety and cool under your fingertips, when he easily lifts you from the ground, and from now on you don’t remember anything.

***

you took your son outside to play in grass, when scaramouche returns from sumeru. unexpectedly, as always.

here’s the trick: even if you can say now, that kazuha is your friend (and thank god for him, he’s the best human who ever walked this earth), nahida is probably your friend too, even though you don’t see her a lot and she’s much, much more reserved than kazuha (who is a grown man, despite his height), scaramouche is an interesting case. you’ve never ever asked him, who he even was, what he did for life. you felt like you had no right, since you’ve been nobody yourself. he’s just kinda...there. you don’t know what to think of him. you can’t label it, so you just don’t do it.

he visits you regularly. he’s at your house more often, then even kazuha; he has more than enough duties in sea, and scaramouche doesn’t. he just does as he pleases. and it seems like he wants to be near you a lot of the times. you don’t mind, really: he’s a nice company, very useful and not overbearing. he also seems to know a lot about caring for kids, which you find unexpected, but again, you need that guidance. 

even if in the beginning you thought he was the one with a cold heart, now you’re definitely not sure. you gave birth that night and you’ve slept for over two weeks after. nahida told you, that she put you in that state, since she was afraid, you die. your body was so fragile after giving birth, she spent days and nights healing you. kazuha was busy building you new home with the help of the beidou’s crew - you don’t want to know, how nahida learnt, that you were homeless. in that time, scaramouche was the one who cared for your son: he fed him, lulled him to sleep, checked on his health. you’ve learnt that only months after, nahida told you that. but you kinda got the feeling anyway.

you could easily say, scaramouche liked spending time with the kid. he brought him presents anytime he visited. expensive toys from fontaine, liyue and snezhnaya, clothes from natlan, candies and some delicious food from sumeru. he says, he doesn’t care about mora, and it looks like he doesn’t lie, but you still feel uneasy with how much he spends on your son. but again, he helped you. he still helps you a lot. weeks, then months go by, and you’re so used to him at your side, you start to feel a bit lost when he finally leaves again. you know he’ll return, yet you still wonder, what if not.

“look who’s all grown up now” your son squeals in delight when he hears scaramouche’s voice, and you turn your head too, because your son tends to have better sight than you, he also hears a lot more than you. 

scaramouche’s on his way to your little home, and you stand up to greet him. you actually stop, because he stumbles funnily, when you come near him. it’s as if he wanted to hug you, forgetting himself for a second. you see no problem though. you would hug him, if he wanted you to. 

it’s always a happy time, when he’s at your home - playing with your son, while you make dinner, then telling you both his stories. they’re quite endearing, and he has such a nice voice, while telling them, it’s as if he was truly a balladeer. your son loves listening to him, he actually likes to sit on his lap and watching him speak. you usually stand near the kitchenette, cup of tea in your hands, watching them talk.

it brings you somewhere close to longing for something you never had. but you, weakly, love that feeling. and sometimes scaramouche looks at you strangely, like he wants to ask, what are you thinking, but even if he did ask, you don’t know what to tell him. you don’t know what you want of him yourself.

you love when scaramouche comes to your home. that you know for sure.

this time is only slightly different. your son is sleeping soundly in your arms, when you want to bring him to his bed. you hear scaramouche’s voice near your ear:

“lemme hold him. please”

you look at him with wide eyes.

he actually rarely took your son in his arms. it wasn’t like he didn’t want to, more out of his respect for you as your son’s mother. 

he holds your son with such gentleness, caressing his hair through his fingers. you smile, because of how fond you find that gesture. he studies the kid’s face for a minute, and then he looks straight in your eyes:

“you really love him, huh?”

“what? of course i do. i am his mom”

“not every mother loves her child” and you know, there’s a bad, bad story behind those words, yet you say nothing on that matter. 

“you love him too” you say instead. it’s as clear as the sky is blue to you. it’s clear for pretty anybody - read, nahida and kazuha - too.

and yet, for a second, he looks like a kid, who got cought stealing candies before dinner.

“bullshit. i’m just helping you because you’re such a baby and know nothing”

“yeah. that’s why you asked to hold my son”

“exactly”

“okay. give him back to me then”

he actually takes a step back. you think it’s funny how he looks like he will fight you if you try to snatch a baby back in your arms. so you laugh quietely.

“scaramouche” you call him.

“what” he snaps back, but quiet enough not to wake your son. you take one step towards him, then another, untill you can hug him lightly, and he’s so stiff in your arms, like a porcelain doll.

“it’s okay. you can love my son too,” you whisper, feeling how his head falls on your shoulder. “i allow that.”

you stay like that for long, long moments, and you’re actually so surprised that your heart doesn’t beat so fast. it’s just so calm to you, being near him.

“i wanted to say to you that it’s okay to stay here, you know” 

“i always stay, stupid”

“no. i mean for real. i know you don’t want that, probably. but you can always stay with us. for however long”

you hear him laugh bitterly.

“you say you know i don’t want to stay? so funny”

“why?”

“because it means you truly know nothing”

***

your first kiss with scaramouche happens when your son is five and he learns that everyone has a father, except him.

interestingly enough, it’s kazuha, who tells you that. he visited you again, while being in inazuma, as he always did for past years. your bond only grew stronger with years, but you know that it’s nothing, comparing to his bond with scaramouche. they weren’t even that good of a friends. it’s more likely that something tragic bonded them, and you’re partly glad you know nothing about it.

you’ve learned a lot about scaramouche in past years while living with him. he still left sometimes, when nahida needed him or his duties called, but he lived with you for much longer. his trips were much shorter too. you fell into some kind of ruitine, and with that came few things you needed to know about each other.

he never actually hid anything from you, it’s just that you felt uncomfortable being persistent, so you learned thing at a time. you’ve learnt he doesn’t need to eat or drink, but he likes to cook and does this often. you’ve learnt he doesn’t care if it’s hot or cold outside, he’s fine anytime. if listen closely, you can hear how his joints quietely screeching everytime he moves. his skin is slightly velvety to touch, like cold porcelain. he sleeps with his eyes open.

he’s not a human, not really. you thought that would worry you more, with everything you’ve been through, yet you just... don’t care.

“i never thought i would tell you this, but it doesn’t matter. you’ve learned this yourself!” kazuha says, and you stand outside the room, hearing everything they say, hoping, they won’t see you. “you know, how much nahida loves you, and i know you love her - don’t you dare to interrupt me right now. it doesn’t always have to be blood. don’t fool me and say you don’t love the kid.”

“i do” scaramouche says after a long pause “and i’m not his father. there’s no need for a father at all. they’re useless.”

“but he wants one. he wants you to be”

“he has a father, he was born somehow, wasn’t he? do you see him here? me too. so that’s what i’m not. i’m not his father.”

you feel so much pain you can’t breathe.

you don’t even go out to say your goodbye to kazuha. you just sit on a stone near the cliff, watching foxes running and playing around. you hate them with your whole being.

“so you heard everything”

it’s rare now to see scaramouche parading in his hat and fancy outfit. his hair grew a bit longer, he wears no hat, and his shorts and shirt are very simple. his haori is a present from you on his birthday. he wears it religiously.

and you’re pained.

“i have”

“i see. may i sit near you?”

you nod, turning your head away.

he sits silently next to you. he’s still the most pleasant person to just sit next to in complete silence, and you despise yourself for how weak you were. you gave up on being close to him, but your son? what he ever did to him?

“actually, i genuinely hate inazuma” scaramouche says suddenly - your heart clenches, because yeah, of course, why would he love it here? you live in a deep of a chinju forest, in small wooden house with your son. he has an opportunity to visit anywhere he wants. whay would he want to even be there, of all places? “i hate it so fucking much, you can’t imagine.”

“i truly can’t”

“yeah, you can’t” he says again, no mockery in his voice. “this is the place where i was born and left behind. the only thing i ever wanted is to set everything up in flames here. and i felt like that for years. centuries.”

your heart sinks.

“i thought you’re i don’t know? twenty five?” kazuha is around thirty, so you’ve guessed he’s also around his age, even with how young he looks. scaramouche chuckles.

“yeah. slightly older than that” he looks at you with unreadable smile “still, i’m here. any ideas, why?”

“you’re masochistic?”

“no, anything else? come on, you can do better than that” his smile disappears as fastly, as it was brought. “here i thought you would explain me why”

you don’t answer anything to that. he chuckles again - more bitterly this time.

“i meant what i said. kid has a father. a shitty one, i assume. i don’t want to be anything like that. you need to believe me” he takes your hand in his and squeezes it slightly, making you look at him. and he’s so serious and worried right now, you feel your heart might explode. “i wish only the best on you two. i wouldn’t do anything to harm you. and you don’t have to tell me anything. i know a thing or two about how shitty those kitsune bastards can be. in the end, it’s your life, and i’m no one to you, you owe me nothing”

“are you serious right now?!” you almost yell, yanking your hand away. “you’ve lived here for five years! five! you’ve teached my son how to read, you’ve played with him, you brought him gifts, you brought me gifts, and you sleep in my room on a bed that stands next to mine, and you are no one to me?! you fucking selfish little-” you stop only when you hear him laughing. it makes you even more mad, but it disappears the moment you see how glassy his eyes are. and he keeps laughing and laughing and laughing, untill he stops completely.

“i do sound like my mother” he whispers, more to himself than to you. and then he looks at you again, his eyes are so clear and sad for how badly he hurt you. “i shouldn’t have said that”

the worst part is that you don’t feel hurt for yourself. you feel bad for your kid.

you never planned on having kids. your plan was to become a priestess in a great shrine, which is really ironic, considering of course it was a kitsune who made you change your mind. who made you drop everything you planned behind, to run away with him from your hometown, only for him to drop you the second he got what he wanted from you. and maybe he didn’t even want anything at all. probably that, because that’s just how cruel yokais can be. it was all just a fun game, and you kinda lost. you would strongly disagree it was fun at all.

that’s the reason your pregnancy was so difficult. the baby was just too strong for your human body. he keeps getting stronger every day, and you were so thankful to scaramouche because he seemed to know how to handle your son. he’s so strong willed and independent even now, that you need help. because yeah, you do not know how to raise a child.

your son looks like a normal kid, except for his now little dark claws. they showed when he became four, and he cried that night, thinking he’s very ugly now. and you know why he’s thinking that. some might say he’s scary and looks like a demon, but even though your son’s eyes are blood red with a vertical pupil, they remind you strangely of kazuha, of all people. your son is half yokai, yeah, and people might be scared of him, but his gaze holds no malice. he’s the sweetest boy, who loves you deeply, who loves scaramouche, nahida and kazuha. you hope, he’ll be like kazuha, because his kindness and gentleness is seen in him even now, and you don’t want to hate your kid just because for who his father is.

the dinner is very silent - even your son keeps it low, because he somehow sensed that something is wrong between you two. he thanks you for food, kisses you on a cheek while saying goodnight and then turns to his room.

“don’t you wanna say goodnight to me too?” scaramouche asks suddenly. your son turns to him, surprised. ever so gentle, scaramouche rarely openly show affection towards kid, even when your son wanted him to.

“can i?” he asks hesitantly. scaramouche smiles lightly and extends his hand.

“come here, give your dad a hug”

you drop the plate you were holding, and your son literally runs towards scaramouche. you know if it was you he would probably hit you (not intentionally, but he’s that strong at his age), but scaramouche catches him easily, and it reminds you of a day when he brought you here just as easily. you chew your bottom lip, while watching, how happily your son hugs said man, and that man, while smiling, looks you right into the eyes, as if asking for your forgiveness.

you turn away.

scaramouche usually reads after the dinner, yet you’re not surprised to find him in your room. he looks up at you - it’s late in the evening, your son is very much asleep, so it’s quiet and cozy here.

“that was super weird.”

“which part?”

“i’m not his father. i’m not anyone’s father” he frowns “and it felt really weird saying things like that”

“oh, really”

“don’t fucking laugh at me, woman” you think it’s adorable, how his harsh words don’t match the soft tone of his voice. “i’m not-”

“scaramouche”

“what?”

“can i kiss you?”

you’re afraid you broke him for a minute - he looks at you with such a strange expression on his face, you can’t comprehend it. he looks so young and vulnerable and alive, you can’t imagive, how he’s not a human. and how much you want him by your side.

“yes” he says quietely, voice not above just a whisper “yes, you can”

***

your son is eleven, when his... father decides to show up.

and you think, why would it end differently? of course there’s always a way to ruin it for you. last few years was the best you ever had in your life, so something needs to change to show you, how are you not actually in charge.

your life became just a little bit too perfect. it consisted of you, scaramouche and your son having a breakfast together, then you stay to study with your son, while scaramouche works in a garden, because you can’t do hard work, so your health won’t worsen. later you usually go for a walk to a shrine or at the seacost. you’ve visited countless festivals and watched fireworks together. in evenings you still listen to scaramouche’s stories, and then you say goodnight to your son, so you can to bed together. years later, you still only sleep together. he likes to kiss you, yeah, but nothing more. you’re fine. you’re not sure your body won’t betray you anyway.

so of course it has to be ruined.

and this prick - you really can’t even bring yourself to call him a father of your beautiful, kind, sweet son - shows up looking exactly like you’ve seen him last time. you know time flies, and you’re fine with you aging, yet it feels like a slap in a face. you’ve never felt this way with scaramouche, even though he too, obviously, doesn’t change a bit.

give me my son, that prick says. you did everything i’ve wanted from you. now it’s time for me to teach my son how he needs to be.

your blood boils with such rage, you think you’ve never been able to feel this much. you remember how one morning he just never returned, and later you found out you were pregnant. how much you cried, feeling horror almost in your bones, and how high priestess said that if you decide to keep the child, best case scenario it’ll take a good half of your life. the decision wasn’t up to you anyway. it was late, and you made peace with the fact that you will probably die soon.

did you really think i’ll just leave my son be with you, he asks, not really wanting you answer. 

fuck you. scaramouche is his father, you think stubbornly. and, also, fuck you again.

he says, he’ll return back when your kid will turn twelve, and he’ll ask if he stays with you or go with him. he will know that man who raised him never was his father, and he’ll hate you for it. 

and maybe if you were stupid young self, you would listen to him. you would dread the date and think a hundred times over how to tell your son that... how to tell him anything. you would cry because your son might turn into his father, hurting more and more people, without the possibility for this cycle to break.

now you’re smarter. 

you see there’s a lot of foxes near your house. your son sits at a table, focused on a book scaramoche presented him just a week ago. it’s a book from nahida, so it’s very special. scaramouche is nowhere to be seen - he’s probably in city, buying stuff you need. your heart aches for how heartbroken he will be.

foxes get closer to your son. be it your young self, you would cry out of horror.

but now you’re smarter. 

so you take your son’s hand and just run.

***

you hide with your son for five years, when you meet nahida.

your son is first to pinpoint her in the crowd. people moving and dancing around you, there’s smell of hot spice and something sweet in the air, the sun is so hot and red. you change regions frequently, you need to, but natlan so far is the least favourite of yours. you hate how loud it is, how hot it is. there’s no serenity in those lands, only war and feasts.

“nahida? nahida!” your son’s voice helps you to snap out of it. you feel something between panic and excitement.

there she is: still so small and young, an adult in a kid’s body. you’r afraid people might hurt her. but she moves right towards you, her gaze stoic and unwavering.

“nahida!” your son kneels so he can hug her and she does immediately hug him back, her little hands look even smaller on his back. your son is not very tall, rather lean and not so broad. he reminds you of a fox - the only one you won’t hate.

“i’m so glad to see you. it’s been so long” you blame yourself for longing in his voice. you took everything from him too.

“how have you been?” she asks him, holding his face with her hands. he smiles widely.

“we’re fine. wanna talk to mom? i thought you like me better” she finally giggles and pats him on a head.

“we’ll have plenty of a time to talk. but yes, i need to talk to your mother”

you can’t let go of your habits that easily - all those years you spend watching your son every moment, so no one would steal him from you. nahida sees that, she was always capable of seeing through people.

“i wonder what it takes to be able to hide from everyone, even from the goddess of wisdom” she starts. 

you sigh.

“you wouldn’t want to know”

“i always wanna know” she argues “i can’t believe i was finally able to find you. we’ve all tried to find you”

“please, don’t torture me like that. please.”

she gets quiet for a moment.

“you look sick” it’s because you are sick. there was no peace in your life, not a second since you were on a run. you don’t age like normal humans, not after given a birth to yokai, yet sometimes you wish you just get grey hair and that’s it. your body hurts all the time, so much, sometimes you can’t sit straight. “i told you years ago, if you don’t watch yourself you will-”

“don’t care”

“but i do. your son does.” you know who else does too, probably. “can you at least tell me, what happened? i can’t help you if-”

“no one can help me.”

“i think we might argue about that” she gets closer to you and takes your hand into hers. you immediately feel strange relief, as if something very heavy was taken off your shoulders. “tell me. we will find a way. i, as an archon of wisdom, will find a way for you”

there’s sunset, and music gets louder, people start dancing again. your son looks at you, his lips trembling. you so, so want to go back to your home in a dark forest. 

“please, mom” he whispers, almost inaudible. “let’s return”

the ghost of his father still haunts you at nights, but with years passing your horror started to fade away. there’s no way somebody was able to make your son someone different. he loved you deeply, yet you knew he judged you for not saying anyone a word. 

he looked so much like scaramouche sometimes, it brought you to a physical pain. he frowned like him, his smile was just as mischievous and fond as his, he liked to read, liked to watch fireworks and work in garden. he was so softspoken even when he was hurt or angry.

there’s no way he could be like anyone but his father.

you blink once, twice, feeling tears sting your eyes. 

and start speaking.

***

you’re with kazuha in mondstadt year later, when scaramouche steps in your rented room.

“there you are” is all he says. you almost jump off the chair, turning to him immediately.

“i’ll leave you two” kazuha stands up and winks at you. “good luck”

traitor.

what you expected to see? scaramouche looks exactly like six years ago, still young and lean, though he looks much, much darker now. his clothes are from the way back, when he dressed in black and turqiuose, but now it has more purple to it. the bells on his veil dangle dangerously.

"let’s summarize what we have here” he says as if nothing happened, as if you haven’t seen him for so long. “instead of talking to me and just saying you need some help, you decided to run away and hide for years, am i right?”

“it wasn’t like that”

“oh? tell me how it was then”

you have no words. you knew he would be mad, that’s why you begged nahida not to tell him anything. nahida said okay. and there was kazuha, who didn’t say anything, when you tried to ask for his promise to stay silent.

he probably did it for your son. he wanted to see him so much, it became hard to keep him low.

“i hear nothing” the venom in his voice almost burns you.

“i couldn’t say anything. he would take my son away”

“he wouldn’t”

you smile sadly. you still feel heavy in your stomach, your back hurts.

“he would” you repeat, and for the first time scaramouche looks less mad. “when i returned home, after i found out i was pregnant, he followed me. i didn’t know that. and when i told my family i needed help, well...”

he looks at you expectantly. you feel so cold in your limbs.

“what did he do?” he asks you, way calmly this time.

“my yonger sister, she... she went out one day and never came back. my parents searched everywhere, nothing. and week later another girl. and another”

he stays silent, yet you see how he clenches his fists so much, you hear that sweet, sweet sound of creaking joints. you can’t smile anymore. 

“i know it was him.” you say simply. “there’s no evidence. i don’t know what he did to them. i hope they hadn’t suffered and died quickly, because he enjoys... he loves to play.”

“i killed him” he says matter-of-factly. you feel cold sweat on your back with how calm and lifeless he looks. “he broke the rules anyway. so i did what i had to do”.

“what rules are you talking about? how did you even found him?”

“i asked my mother” that surprises you. “see, i could, of course, just kill him in silence. but the forest belongs to yokai. there are rules. kitsune can’t really mess with humans that much anymore. apparently, that made everyone’s life difficult, and it was not easy to lure him in... long story short, he’s dead. he won’t bother you anymore.”

“you asked your mother?”

now he looked nervous.

“i had to. i needed help to track him down. this is her land. she knows where he could hide, since she’s yokai herself” you remember all the times he spoke to you about his family, his mothers or his sister. he rarely did this, granted, yet it pains you even more to hear him going through it alone.

“are you okay?”

“you kidding?” he looks at you, bewildered “that’s what you choose to ask me?!”

“i don’t know what else to ask” you asnwer truthfully. 

you see the gnosis on his chest starts to shine - he closes it with his hand, as if his heart hurt. you know he has no heart. you’ve never heard his heartbeat.

suddenly the door slams open.

there’s kazuha with your son, standing in front door. kazuha took him under his wing, helping you hide him, because there’s no such place as the ocean, and though kitsune usually hate water, your son loved it. you’ve seen him only yestersay, thinking he’s already on a ship, which is now under kazuha’s command.

but it seems like everything goes not how you expected today.

you see so much emotions on scaramouche’s face. from surprise and joy to sadness and anger. he’s angry at you, because you’ve stolen him of those years he could spent near you and your kid, like a family that you were. you see, that it’ll take time for him to forgive you for those years he lost, net seeing your son growing up, changing and become who he is now. they’re the same height now, the eyes of your son are still bright red and kind, but not at all naive. he’ll only learn now, how simillar they look, when they get angry, or how their sense of humour is basically the same. they look nothing alike, and yet it was your son and his behaviour who reminded you always of what you’ve left behind. and you’re so sorry too.

you’re so, so sorry you hurt them both.

and then scaramouche smiles - widely, so fond and kind, like years ago.

“so grown up now, you don’t even want to give me a hug?” he says, only half-joking. he’s testing waters, if he could take what was his once back.

your son runs towards him in a second.

kazuha pats your back reassuringly, as if saying that it’s going to be okay now. you’re sure you’ve never seen scaramouche cry. it’s just tears down his face, as he smiles and hugs your son tighter. and you actually now know, what you want to ask.

can you return home?

***

it’s almost twenty five years after you first meet scaramouche, when you finally can say you’ve found peace.

scaramouche chuckles, when you say that to him, as if you said something really funny.

“your standarts are still really low” he says, and you nod thoughtfully.

“yeah. i’m living with you at the end of the day”

he glares at you, but says nothing. you’ve learnt a lot from him in those years, so now he keeps his mouth shut.

when you first returned to your home in a forest, you were too busy bringing it back it’s cozy view. it was still not as abandoned, as you imagined. kazuha told you, scaramouche returned here regularly, hoping to meet you here one day. 

it took him a year to become less paranoid. you could understand that, since you too couldn’t really let go of the feeling that you’re free to do what you want. finally, what you want. not what you need. nahida took your son to sumeru, to help him become more independent, and you? you were truly all for youself, the first time in your life.

“what is going on inside that brain of yours now?” scaramouche asks you impatiently. you only smile in response.

“that’s a secret”

“ugh. disgusting” he holds you closer, eyes sparkling with mischief “tell me”

you look at him and can’t not smile. he’s so beautiful in your eyes. you could never understand, how he switches so easily between being angsty teen brat and a centuries old wise son of a god. you think that that sounds right, because only a god could create someone so endearing and loving and vulnerable and brave-

“you’re doing it again”

“doing what?”

“drifting off” he says seriously. “what’s on your mind?”

what’s on your mind? your son was no longer there, so you couldn’t tell yourself scaramouche was here only for him. however much he loved him, it was stupid to stay in denial. you couldn’t afford that anymore.

“do you love me?” you ask him. he looks surprised for a second, but collects himself very quickly.

“of course not. i just enjoy spending years of my life near somebody i hate”

“you would love that. you easily could do that out of spite, don’t lie.”

“you know me so well” he retorts sarcastically, but stops himself, seeing your face “why you asking stupid questions?”

“because i want more”

he stays silent, and you hate how sometimes you truly can’t say, what he’s thinking right now.

“okay let’s forget-”

“you’ve seen me naked” he starts cautiously. that you did. “i’m not human. i am a puppet at the end of the day.”

“do i look like somebody who would spend years of their life living with a puppet and suddenly find out that yeah, i might actually care that said puppet has no dick?” he coughs, as you quirk your eyebrow. “yeah, exactly”

“but can you imagine my mother designing my dick?” he asks in the most flat tone, his face unreadable. you can’t help but cackle. the corner of his mouth twitches, as if he tries to supress a smile. “that fox bitch definitely could though.”

“maybe it’s for the best she was stopped”

“probably, yeah”

you want to say to him, he’s not a puppet, he should stop thinking of himself like that, but you know it would just anger him, if anything. he was always realistic. he was a puppet. with his own mind, his thoughts, desires, feelings. he was just...like that.

and the thing is, even with your inexperience, you know, that there are definitely more skilled men in a block. maybe you could even snatch one for a good night, but you don’t want to, genuinely. you never did. you want this puppet - you want him - and there all it is to it.

so when he finally gives in and kisses you, rolling on his back so you would be on top of him, you can only sigh. he sits up and puts your hair from your face with quiet, yet so fond smile, you can feel your heart breaking your ribs.

“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, while looking you straight in the eyes “always were and always will be”

you kiss him with desire you refuse to ignore any longer. 

he’s definitely not the most expirienced either, but what he lacks with skill he makes up to with his patience and tenderness. he has to be gentle because of how fragile your health is, so he tries to do that exactly. his smile so innocent, almost angelic, if only it wasn’t for the devilish sparks in his eyes, that lit up when you whine his name. you quickly decide, that you both love that. that, and how cool his skin feels under your touch, especially when he kisses your neck, while telling you to lift yourself a bit. you shiver in anticipation and yet still moan, when you feel the first finger inside. you don’t see his face, but you know that now he must be smiling like a stupid arrogant brat that he is.

and yet, his fingers feel so good, you clench on his shoulders with such force you fear you can break him. he only shushes you, his other hand patting your back, mouth never leaves your neck for long. he fucks you slow and steadily, keeping you in place, so you don’t move and he’s the one deciding the pace. even when you beg him to go faster, he only kisses you lovingly and continues to torture you with slow deep thrusts. you hate him for it, but not really.

you come with his name on your lips, and he keeps fucking you through it, so tenderly you feel tears in your eyes. to your surprise, you feel something wet on your neck too.

“scaramouche?” you ask worriedly, lifting his face with your hands so you can look at him properly. “are you okay?”

his eyes are glassy, and his cheeks are wet with tears, but you’ve learned a long ago that his tears are the only way showing anything of his emotions. and even though he cries, that’s not all to it.

“i’m great” he chuckles and kisses your shoulder, as you ruffle his hair “better than i have ever been”.

***

it’s winter, when you talk to scaramouche abouth death.

you have always dodged this topic elegantly. nahida told you, now decades ago, that your life won’t be long, nor that it would be joyful. scaramouche argued with her on that, but you silently agree with her. your life was on a thread the minute you felt your son in you. you can’t believe he’s so mature now, even though he still looks like a teen boy. and while scaramouche doesn’t visit his mothers ever, your son did visit his mom once. he later stayed in her shrine for about a year, learning from her, since she was, in scaramouche’s words, a knowledgeable bitch. 

but it wasn’t you and your condition, that triggered that talk.

kazuha dies so suddenly, it leaves everyone in shock. of course he was an old man now, but still you hadn’t expect it. you’re sure, if it was up to scaramouche or nahida, they would try to save him, but he just... dies in his sleep, that’s kind of it. the most peaceful, most kind death one could ever imagine. your heart roars in loss when you hear the news, your son cries in his bed when he learns his favourite unckle won’t ever return. he was your friend, the best friend of your small family, his kindness saved you the day you wanted to die - losing him feels worse than losing an arm. even nahida, who, you know, is very, very reserved, can’t help but shed a few tears.

only scaramouche stays stoic. even months after, you don’t really talk about how he lost another human that he loved dearly. 

you lay in bed together, your face in his neck, while he stares at a ceiling, swirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. 

“you're angry” you whisper. you know he is. you know his fears all too well now.

but he surprises you.

“no” he says quietely. “not really”

“huh?!”

“if it was me, say, hundred years ago, i would be so pissed with him” he says with a smile - not his usual arrogant one, something different. “that would make me so mad, i would probably find a way to bring him back alive just to kill him myself for that. but i think i get it now. huh. we really do change through our lives, don’t we?”

you don’t know what to answer to that, so you just lay there silently.

“i asked nahida to turn my head off, when you die”

this is such a shock, you stand up on your elbows to look at him. but he looks back at you - calmly and peaceful.

“what did you just say?”

“i said, i asked nahida to turn me off, when you die.” he scoffs softly and caresses your hand gently. “because you will die, y/n. like i said, i get it know. it’s not something you can’t decide not to do. yet i can decide what to do with myself. and six hundred years is more than enough”

“you can’t just decide to kill yourself” you whisper in shock, “nahida won’t do that, she won’t do that to you” he looks at you in surprise, but then smiles.

“oh, it’s not like that. she just... she’ll change the things in my head, i don’t know. she’s way better with tech, than me. so one day i’ll just stop working, i guess.” it’s impossible to you how he smiles dreamily, how content he looks “huh, i don’t know for how long i’ll walk on this land after you, but i’m looking forward to find it out.”

“what about our son?” and there it is, the only pain he lets himself have.

“nahida will take care of it. and, like i said, i won’t be gone in a blink of an eye. i’ll take care of him myself too. i guess, i’ll just finally have a life i’ve always dreamt about” he again turns to you and smiles fondly “i had a purpose and i fullfilled it. that would be a normal human life. have i ever told you? i once wanted to become a god. now i want nothing, but to become a mortal.”

you know it’s useless to argue with him, but you try to keep in mind that he really is centuries old. you would never know what it feels like to be this old. and to think of it - you don’t really want to find out. you see the example right before your eyes, how lonely it can be.

“you look so worried”

“i feel like i’ve been bamboozeled”

“oh, you definitely have been” he laughs and puts you near himself, so he can kiss your forehead. “but let’s use what we have now yeah?” you nod and he smiles wider, while rolling you on your back, so he can be on top of you. he looks so smug doing it you can’t help but scoff. 

“alright then” he kisses your nose lovingly, and you giggle again. “hold on my shoulders, lady. we’re gonna take a wild ride.”

[cositapreciosa]

You & Me III

Gilbert 'Gilly' Lopez x ex-army!reader, the usual for the show, 4316 words

a/n : first time i've made a third part of anything? hope it still slaps

You can find the masterlist here !

Tagging my Gilly people @narcolini @drabbles-mc <3

‘’ God damn it, woman. ‘’

You knew that would come, but you didn’t expect it to be the second you stepped out of the car. You thought you could have sneaked your way past the garage, past Gil and straight into the clubhouse, hoping EZ would be there, but turns out that all the bombs, the gunshots and even the missing muffler on his truck weren’t enough to damage his hearing. You couldn’t figure out why his ears weren’t ringing when yours were almost all the time now. You can hear him mumbling as he walks your way.

‘’ I told you to stay put. That I would take care of this. ‘’

You can tell he is angry, and as much as you would like to pretend not to hear him, and walk away, you can’t. You close the door, and when you turn around, he is in front of you, tall and shoulders pushed back. He looks good in his uniform, a dark grey jumpsuit that he is wearing with the sleeves tied to his hips. You can tell he has stained his tank top again, despite the dark colour and telling him he needed to stock up on Oxiclean.

‘’ Hi, baby, I missed you, baby? ‘’

He ignores your attempt to smooth this out, arm moving behind your left side to pull the door of the truck open, the metal door missing your hip by an inch. Deciding to borrow his pick-up truck might have been pushing your luck too, but there is nothing he can do about it now. He points to the driver’s seat.

‘’ You’re going to sit your ass back down, and you’re going to go home, baby. ‘’

‘’ I’m not. ‘’

‘’ You- ‘’

He bites his tongue, you can tell, see it roll in his mouth. You like to rile him up, of course you do, especially because he falls for it each time. He better gear up today, because you are determined. You will talk to Alvarez, or maybe EZ, whichever is here, whichever would listen to what you have to say. Gil takes a deep breath as he takes a step forward, chest pressing into yours, silently and slowly trying to push you back into the car. When don’t move, sneakers pressing into the gravel, he talks again.

‘’ You are unbelievable. I’ve got two cars on the lifts, I don’t have time for this- ‘’

‘’ Yo, Gilly, gotta stop bailing on me like that, man. ‘’

Coco walks out of the garage, cigarette between his lips, hat pushed back. His hair has grown longer since the last time you saw him, just past his shoulders. He smiles when he sees you.

‘’ Sup, girl. How you been? ‘’

He doesn’t seem to notice the tension in both your bodies, a position that could easily be mistaken for some welcoming hug. A weird one, really, one where you are pushing back against a human wall, one where Gil could force you inside if he decided to do it. His knuckles are white from gripping the door, he knows he can’t just shoo you away anymore, that the boys will want to talk to you, ask you how you’ve been doing, if they fixed the leaking sink alright.

‘’ Been good, Coco, thank you. How bout you? ‘’

‘’ Same ol’ shit, mama. Are you here only for the big man or you came for us losers too? ‘’

You snort at that, using the momentum to slither past Gil, letting him close the door in defeat behind you. You hear him grunt something in return, but you don’t give him the attention of turning around. Coco crush the rest of his cigarette under his foot, he is smiling again, clearly happy with the joke he just made.

‘’ I came for Ava, but Gil told me she left this morning, so I bullied the big man into buying me a beer before his lunch break instead. ‘’

A straight-up lie, and Gil has to know you are lying, you are convinced it is written on your forehead. Big letters, bold and coloured. Coco doesn’t seem to notice it, though, doesn’t even move over the fact that Ava wasn’t even here this morning, as he lights another cigarette. You like Coco, you find him funny, smart, kind, and you realize you hate lying to him. It is probably because he took care of the body that night, telling you that he would take care of it. Maybe you feel guilty that it has come to light, guilty about how he might feel about it when the truth comes out.

‘’ Go spend his money, girl. He has to be back in an hour though. ‘’

‘’ Duly noted, chief. ‘’

He smiles at that, hand clasping on your shoulder in goodbye before walking back to the garage. You can feel Gil’s presence behind you, all warmth and anger. You don’t like giving him the cold shoulder, but you know you have to rip the bandage off, figure this whole thing out and find a solution before it is too late. You still wish it could be wrong, that Marco’s information is wrong, that they did find a body, just not that body. What a weird fucking day already. You and Jacob's endless hunt for his lost homework right before having to leave for school, coffee spilling on your jeans on the way to the club, using the silent treatment on your man and confessing to a murder in front of illegal bikers.

You look at him over your shoulder only to find out he is already looking down at you. Don’t do it, it means, but you know you have to.

‘’ I’m gonna go in there, ‘’ you begin, ‘’ and I’m going to sit at the table and tell Alvarez everything. I want you to do it with me. ‘’

His gaze breaks away from yours, meeting a point far away in the distance. You know you are pushing him into something he wanted to wait for, but you can’t spend another sleepless night over this. Not when you woke up every hour or so, walking to the door to make sure it is locked, hand reaching in your nightstand to feel the cool metal of the gun that is tucked in there.

He motions for you to walk, chin pointing to the door, towards the clubhouse. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relieved.

‘’ You got my back on this? ‘’ you ask.

‘’ Always. ‘’

The clubhouse still smells of old wood and liquor, just like you remember it. You have been here before, seated at the bar with Gil, tagging along to celebrate whoever’s birthday or whatever event needed tequila shots and cigars. It always felt cozy, in your opinion, mostly because it belonged to them, every piece of it, every memorabilia and every bullet hole that splintered the walls. You understand why Gil loves this place every time you push the doors, why it reminds him of the army, the nostalgia of it.

You are greeted as soon as you come in, hello’s from behind the bar, the pool table. You had felt confident on the way here, fingers gripped tightly on the wheel, telling Gil you would get in there with or without him, but whatever is twisting your insides now feels like nervousness, impatient to get this over with. You feel Gil’s hand on your back, showing you forward, past the doorstep. His fingers are warm on your back, heavy, brushing the skin peaking between your shorts and your shirt.

‘’ Do you think it would be better if you took the lead from here? ‘’ you ask him.

You know it would make him feel good to be in control, to be able to take the reigns on this one. He squeezes the side of your hip in response, his warmth leaving as soon as it arrived as he moves around you and towards the hallway to your right, the one you know leads to Templo, disappearing from your sight. You usually wouldn’t ask for help, you would deal with it on your own, swallow the anxiety, the nerves and jump in, but asking for help is something you have done more than usual the past few months. You always wait for it to come back and bite you, reminding you of why you stopped doing it in the first place, but it hasn’t, not yet.

‘’ Can I get you anything to drink, sweetheart? ‘’

Cielo catches your eyes behind the bar, torso leaning over the counter, wiping away any spilled liquid. You smile, and you hope she doesn’t notice that it is forced, that your fists are closed so tight you think your nails might break the skin.

‘’ I’m all good, thanks. Just waiting for Gilly. ‘’

Gilly. It still feels weird to say it like they do. It has always been Gil, ranger, or any insults that fitted the need at the time. He never took any of it personally, of course, but he was always quick to answer something witty in response. Another minute passes, and he is back in front of you just as fast as he had left, one hand sliding in yours, prying open your tensed fingers.

‘’ Come with me. ‘’

And you do, following him into the hallway, posters and license plates decorating the walls. The air is heavy, and the more your steps bring you toward the doorway, the more you can feel your heart in your throat. Your hand hasn’t left Gil’s, fingers wrapped so hard around his tattooed ones he might think you are scared he would let go. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You let him pull you further in, almost bumping into his back when he stops in front of a woven basket, reaching into his back pocket to drop his phone into it.

‘’ You got your cell? ‘’

You nod, rapidly reaching into your pocket to place your phone next to his.

‘’ Good, ‘’ he swallows, ‘’ You got your gun? ‘’

‘’ I don’t? Look, Gil, if I’m making anyone uncomfortable, I can just… ‘’

You can just what? Go home? Actually get your gun and wait for the wave to come crashing? You watch him adjust the sunglasses on top of his head.

‘’ This is just protocol, you’re good, Alvarez said he would listen to what we had to say. I told him that Marco came by the house. He had already heard something about a missing brother. ‘’

Just as he finishes, he takes a step closer to you, coming back into your personal space. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, warm lips against yours, with his hand under your chin. It makes your body shiver despite the heat, toes curling and craving for more. When he pulls away, he is smiling. You are not sure why, looking at the circumstances, but God, God, maybe you do love him for real, maybe it isn’t in your head or it is routine from being around too long, maybe-

‘’ Hey. Everything is going to be fine, take a deep breath. ‘’

And you do, because he tells you to, because his hand is warm behind your ear. You nod, I’m good, you want to tell him, let’s do this. You know he reads you like an open book, hand squeezing the back of your neck in encouragement before he turns to face the stained glass door.

The air seems thicker inside the Templo, barely any light, dark leather chairs, and cigarette smoke filling the air. Alvarez sits at the end of the table, watching as Gil sends you toward one side of the table while he goes for the other. You take a seat in front of your man, El Padrino on your right. You had met Marcus two times before, the first time when you had met everyone else for Angel’s birthday at the clubhouse, the other after you had stumbled upon his wife in the grocery store, a sweet woman was quick to invite Gil and you for a barbecue at their house.

The third time is today, just as you are about to tell him the truth, what you have been bottling up for weeks now, the blood that still stains your nails. Nothing Marcus hasn’t done before, you can easily guess. It feels weird the more you think about it, how your lives are similar in many ways, but different in so many others. It is Gil that breaks the silence, forearms leaning on the table. His eyes meet yours for a brief second. Behave.

‘’ Thank you, Padrino, for meeting with us. ‘’

Marcus acknowledges him with a grunt, a brief nod. If Gil notices the astonishment that paints your face he doesn’t let it show. Whatever boot-licking, democratic bullshit this is, you are already over it, but you let him speak, mostly because you told him you would. It is rarely his thing to lay low, lick boots and follow the rules, maybe the two of you have just gotten too old for it. But Alvarez doesn’t answer him, he turns to you instead, Gil discarded as quickly as he had started.

‘’ So, this has to do with the missing brother they found in the state park? ‘’

‘’ Maybe? I mean- I don’t know if that’s where they buried him. ‘’

‘’ They? ‘’

Marcus is intimidating, unreadable, pulling on his smoke every once in a while. He seems unbothered, and that makes you nervous. You don’t know how much you should tell him or how much Gil planned to tell him. You wouldn’t want to put any of them under fire of any kind, especially when they did all of this out of the kindness of their heart. You could have been anyone that night, but they helped anyway. Your eyes flicker to Gil, his hands are crossed in front of him and he is looking at you, fingers twitching for a smoke. You wish you could tell him to have one, that you'll allow it this time, that he doesn’t have to hide them in the inside pocket of his uniform. He motions to you to keep going as he eventually pulls one out.

‘’ Coco and Creeper. I needed the help and Gil called them. ‘’

Marcus hums, crushing the end of his cigar against the ashtray. ‘’ And help with what? ‘’

He is pulling it out of you, question by question. This feels like an interrogation, and in a way it is, nothing you haven’t done before, nothing you haven’t gone through before. It tingles inside of you, the adrenaline that pumps in your veins just at the mere thought of it. You try to remind yourself that this is a safe place, that you are home, but still, your arms feel heavy, neck muscles tensing. You try to swallow it down, readjusting in your chair. If Marcus wants the truth, the whole story, you’ll give it to him.

‘’ A dead body, the one I murdered. ‘’

You can see the twitch in his eyebrows, the surprise hidden deep behind his brown eyes. He didn’t expect you to tell that fast you bet, but that means he has been underestimating you so far.

‘’ I was doing mercs jobs in Fresno for a few months, that’s where I met him- ‘’

‘’ What the fuck? ‘’

The cold that drips from his words is like an ice bucket in your face. You had almost forgotten that Gil was there, silently watching from his side of the table. As you look at him, you can see the anger in his eyes, the shock moving across his face. Wait.

‘’ I thought you knew? I left Santo Padre for a job, I told Rea about it. ‘’

‘’ And you thought she would tell me? Snitch on you while you were back on this bullshit? You told me you would stop. ‘’

You don’t have an answer to give him, because you did tell him you would try, but that was a year ago, when life had started to feel good again, until it wasn’t, until you felt that need to run again. They are using you, he used to say, they don’t fucking care if you come back alive. He was right, but what he didn’t understand was that you didn’t care either if you did or not. Bills needed to be paid, dark thoughts and memories more easily buried under the clicking sound of ammunition and the smell of gunpowder. Gil is leaning across the table, chair pulled back a few inches, and if you didn’t know him, you would think he was ready to jump, hands on throat.

You don’t have an answer to give him, but you still open your mouth, hoping to find something to say. Marcus cuts you before you can.

‘’ And then what? ‘’

He is looking at Gil, and you figure he is telling him to back off, to calm down. Surprisingly he does, pressing back into his chair, huffing. You close your fists under the table, hoping the pain will bring you back into the room with them.

‘’  Then he was an abusive bitch, and he tried to kill me, so I did him first. ‘’

You can still hear the thumping in your ears, feel the split skin of your knuckles as you continue.

‘’ I didn’t know he was SAMCRO. I’m here so we can find a solution. ‘’

You finally meet Gil’s eyes across the table. He feels so far away, miles and miles when he is only at arm's length if you reached far enough. You crave his touch, you realize, you want him to hold you like he does at night, tucked in his chest, nose pressed against his shirt. It would smell like him, your favourite detergent, that Irish soap he uses in the shower.

‘’ I know what this would mean for the club if they think it’s your guys who did it. I don’t want this to happen. ‘’

You feel it in the back of your head, those thoughts that make you think that this is wrong, this is what happens when you stay for too long, when you stop and start thinking too much. The crescent nail-shaped wounds in your palms hurt. You are not sure how you knock out of it, but you are back, and Gil still sits in front of you, deep brown eyes observing you. You can tell he noticed it, how far away you were, barely a second. Alvarez turns to him.

‘’ I have already talked to Tig. The Fresno charter does think we’ve done it, and Marco has confirmed that they did find some evidence that points to us. ‘’ I don’t want to run again, please don’t make me do it again.  ‘’ I’ve been told his brother doesn’t seem that bothered, but he does want reparation. ‘’

‘’ Whatever he wants, but I’m keeping my fingers. ‘’

That makes him crack a smile, barely pulling at the side of his lips. He can laugh if he wants, but you are dead serious. You have met Chucky before, and even though he is a nice man, got a good job, that is not a sacrifice you are willing to do.

‘’ Cash seemed fine with him, if it’s fine with you. ‘’

‘’ How much? ‘’ Gil is quick to ask.

‘’ Hundred thousand. ‘’

‘’ That’s insane. She was fighting back, not- ‘’

El Padrino raises his hand, asking for silence he is rapidly met with. What surprises you is when Alvarez asks him to leave, even more so when Gilly actually does it, reluctantly, of course, but nonetheless. You can’t stay in this room if he isn’t, because you know you can’t deal with Marcus alone. You are panicking just at the idea of it, like a dog being left behind. The room feels smaller suddenly, and just as your knees lock, ready to stand up and walk away with Gil, Marcus stops you.

‘’ No. ‘’ Is all he says, ‘’ You’re staying. ‘’

Both of you watch as your man crushes his cigarette against the ashtray, giving you a brave nod before closing the door behind him. When Marcus’s attention is back on you, you can tell he is asking if you can do it, if you have enough. Gil was right on this one, it is insane, no one carries that much money in cash, not you. Your teeth are piercing your bottom lips, maybe you could spare a finger or two, you think, maybe you could do that.

‘’ I can get you 15 thousand in a few days. Not more than twenty if you give me a week. ‘’

The silence is deafening, you can hear the buzzing from the overhead lights. You are ready to pay your debt if that is what SAMCRO expects of you, any way they see fit, you stopped trying to change people’s minds a long time ago. There's no point in lying to Alvarez, even if you try, a hundred thousand dollars is just too much.

‘’ So you have a military background? ‘’

You frown. You don’t understand what this has to do with all of this.

‘’ Yes. Gil and I were in the same unit for years. ‘’

Friendship, lovers, everything in between, rangers in death and life. He takes a cigarette out of his pack, offering you one. You think about accepting it, only for a second, long enough that he can see the hesitation in your eyes before you decline.

‘’ We could use someone with your skills. ‘’ he begins, ‘’ Sharp, quick. ‘’

The smoke dries your eyes when he exhales. You know what he is offering, a type of work you have done before, something you’re good at, something that Gil would have said no to if he had stayed. Alvarez is offering you a chance to say yes, to make your own decision.

‘’ I could loan you the eighty-five thousand you need, drop it all off to SAMCRO, but you’d be in our debt. ‘’

I need to ask Gil, I need to know if this is fair, if this is legit, I need-

‘’ Can I sleep on it? ‘’

‘’ As long as you want, until they’re tired of waiting. ‘’

You don’t remember when or how you left the room, if Alvarez even told you you could leave, but before you know it you are passing the stained glass door, phone back in hand. Gil is not at the bar when you turn the corner, and you hate that it crosses your mind for a second that he left you, took his shit and drove away in anger. You know it’s not true, that you are thinking too much again. Too much thinking, too much-

You push the door open, fresh air in your lungs, the sun prickling your eyes. You want to cry, to fall on your knees and sob all of it away. All of the stress, the images that pass behind your eyes every time you close them, the ringing in your ears.

I want to go home. It’s the first thing you tell him when you reach the truck, where he is leaning against the hood, sunglasses covering his eyes. You can see the panic on his face, the way your own has crashed on him like waves. I want to go home, please, I can’t-

‘’ Hey, hey, it’s all good, I’ll drive you home, baby.  ‘’

Breathe, you can’t breathe. You only seem to be able to when he eventually brings you to the passenger side, when you feel the leather on your thighs, when the drilling noise coming from the garage finally stops as he closes the door.

Can I sleep on it?

You told Alvarez that you would do it, let them use those skills of yours as they saw fit, you do remember that now. Eighty-five thousand dollars in exchange for your life. Is it really how much you are worth?

As long as you want, until they’re tired of waiting.

You don’t feel like telling Gil, admitting to him that you took what looks like the easy way out. No out in glory and blood, guns blazing. It feels like you are out of high school all over again, passing in front of that army booth. Good pay, insurance, good pension, holding that blue disposable pen as you sign your life away for the next six years. We could use someone like you, with your knowledge. Same old shit, new leadership.

‘’ Would you think I fucked up, ‘’ you whisper as he buckles his seatbelt, ‘’ If I told you I made a deal with Alvarez? ‘’

You can see him bite his tongue, the clench in his jaw at your words. He knows to eat his words and think about it before he answers, and you are grateful for it. You couldn’t take it if he had said the first thing that came to his mind. You can’t stop your leg from shaking, up and down, up and-

‘’ Of course not. ‘’ He says, gently pressing his hand on your thigh.

You immediately feel better when he turns the corner and drives out of the yard, his palm caressing your skin in an effort to show comfort, understanding. Of course not, he says again and again, like it would fix the panic in your chest. You hope he means it, that with all his heart he thinks that it’s true.

Of course not, baby.

[mxeve0]

Spiderman Noir X Fem Reader

Warnings: None :)

The Shadow of a Shadow

Part•2 (Part•1)

"Well..." Your heart was pounding. He was about to tell you that he thought you were weird and creepy and that he wanted nothing to do with you. "I don't mind."

Huh?

"I understand that you need someone to support you, and if that happens to be me then I'm really not bothered. You know I'm here for you." You felt the heat rush to your face and you knew you were turning about 7 shades redder. You nodded, your eyes focusing on your lap to avoid his gaze. "If you feel bored here, then you're always welcome to come back to my place with me. Your eyes widened and you looked back up at him.

He was offering you to stay with him. In his home. You couldn't decline that. Although part of you wanted to decline his offer in an effort to look less desperate, it was just what you had wanted. An excuse to spend even more time with him. And maybe a change of scenery would be good for you.

"You're sure?" You asked, watching him get up from the sofa. He nodded in response as he placed the scrap tech back on the table.

"Truthfully, I quite enjoy your company. So yes, I'm sure." He stepped out of the room. Your mind was blank. You could hear your heartbeat as if it were in your ears. Your mouth was dry. He liked being with you. You couldn't help the huge smile that spread across your face as you followed him out of the room.

He'd already opened a portal back to his universe, and was stood waiting for you. As you caught up to him, he walked through. You reached out and grabbed the back of his coat before following him through.

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

When you opened your eyes after stepping out of the portal, it took you a second to get used to your new surroundings. After all, Noir's world was purely black and white, like an old TV. And yet, despite being so monochromatic, his world seemed so much more lively. You heard the bustle of people walking down the street echoing down the alleyway that the two of you were in, and the loud hum of engines going past. It wasn't superficial or fictitious like the world the HQ belonged to, and it certainly hadn't fallen to ruins like yours.

It was real.

You let go of his coat, fixing a stray strand of hair that had blown into your mouth. Your eyes widened as you watched Noir take off his mask. That's when you knew you were right earlier.

His eyes were grey in the monochromatic world and hidden behind round glasses, yet they seemed warmer and kinder than others (cough cough Miguel). He had dark hair that looked soft to the touch. The rest of his face was the same as any other Peter. Except his scar. It was long but relatively thin, starting from just under his right jaw and reaching his cheekbone. You knew it probably had a horrible backstory, but it seemed to make him just that tiny bit more attractive.

You noticed his eyebrow raise above the rim of his glasses, and flicked your head away, mortified that he had caught you staring. A smile tugged at his lips as you turned away, your cheeks starting to grow red.

"Come on, my place isn't far from here," he said as he reached the entrance of the alleyway. You did that not-really-a-speedwalk-but-also-not-a-run to catch up with him as he turned the corner.

The engines of old cars rumbled as they drove past, barely visible through the crowd. Considering it was the middle of the Great Depression, the people were still dressed nicely, in simple dresses and suites, accessorised with hats and jewellery. Though, you began to notice that heads were turning as you walked past and that groups of women were whispering and giggling amongst themselves.

"Uh, Peter?" You called, tugging on his sleeve.

"Hmm?" He turned around, looking at you over the top of his glasses.

"They're staring," you whispered, moving closer to him.

"Because you're wearin' an oversized T-shirt and tight shorts. Nobody wears those, especially women," he replied, leaning down to your ear. Your mouth formed a small 'o' of realisation. He smiled as you followed him through the black and white streets of his city.

Peter's house was past all the high rise buildings and apartments. It was a small, one-floored building, with a white picket fence and a few dying bushes in the front.

"Well you've got until....'97 before the flat screen ones come out so, bit of a wait," you said, smiling. He groaned and rested his head back on the sofa. He grabbed the remote with his web from under the TV and began to flick through the channels.

"So..."

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

The two of you spoke for the rest of the afternoon with the TV on in the background. You got to learn quite a lot about him, such as the fact that he's afraid of horses. He also learned a bit about you as well, like the fact that you're a huge literature nerd and can recite all of Macbeth's soliloquy's from memory.

"Well dogs are cute but I just prefer cats really," you explained. He nodded, even though he'd been disagreeing with you about whether which is better for the past 5 minutes. The silence was quickly broken by a low rumble from your stomach, and that's when you realised that you hadn't eaten anything all day.

"Hungry?" Peter asked, smirking.

"Maybe a little," you smiled, trying to ignore the fact that you felt like you were having heart palpitations just from his smirk. He stood from the couch, grabbing the empty glass of water from your hand before he made he way to the kitchen.

"So, what do you like to eat?" He called from the kitchen as you stood up to go join him.

"Hmm, anything really," you answered, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Anything with pasta is always acceptable though." He pondered for a moment, looking around at his cupboards.

"I think I can do that, sit," he ordered, pointing to a small table at the other side of the kitchen. You did as he said, watching him dance around the kitchen making some sort of pasta dish.

When he had finished, he placed the plate down in front of you. The pasta was piled up, covered in some sort of carbonara sauce with spring onions sprinkled on top for decoration.

"Bon appetite," Peter smiled as he sat down opposite you.

"Do you always make it look so fancy?"

"Never, I mean it's usually just me, but am I not allowed to make it look fancy?", He asked , smirking.

"No you are, but does it taste good," you teased before putting a full fork into your mouth. It was... it was really good actually. Which was a surprise. You thought he had absolutely zero cooking skills. he laughed as he watched your eyes widen, looking down at the plate.

"And you thought it'd be bad, how dare you."

"I, mm, sincerely apologise," you said quickly before eating some more.

Once you had both finished eating, you helped him clean up, drying the dishes and pans as he washed them. Looking out of the small window above the sink, you realised that it was pretty dark outside, and that you should probably think about heading home. Not that you wanted to. You couldn't. Maybe coming here was a bad idea; you'd become even more attached to him.

"You know, you're always welcome to stay longer," Peter said as he put down the dishcloth. He leaned against the counter, his eyes focused on you.

"Is that because you want me to stay?" You teased, deciding to play it coy rather than desperate. Flashing a smile and looking up at him through your lashes, you noticed his cheeks turn a darker shade of grey. He cleared his throat before quickly looking away.

"Well, like I said earlier, I enjoy your company," he replied, pulling at the hem of his turtle-neck. The corners of his lips pulled into a smile as he pushed his glasses further up his nose, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Because, if you did want to stay the night, you're welcome to have the bed and I'll just sleep on the couch."

"I can't kick you out of your bed that's not fair."

"Technically it wouldn't be kickin' me out if I offered it to you, would it doll?" Your heart skipped a beat as he looked back up at you, smirking because he knew you couldn't say no.

"But-"

"If you want to stay, you're sleepin' in the bed. No arguments," he stated firmly. Trying to fight against him would be futile, not that you wanted to anyway.

"Fine," you huffed as you walked past him, slightly nudging him with your elbow. Peter chuckled as he followed you out of the kitchen. He guided you down the hallway with his hand on your waist to the door at the end.

Inside his bedroom was pretty basic, with a double bed opposite the door, the window on the left wall and a wardrobe and set of draws on the other wall. On either side of the bed were two little tables which both displayed matching lamps and a small succulent on the left one. This universe may be in black and white, but this room could still do with some more decorations. 'I can fix that later,' you thought, sitting down on the end of the bed.

"So uh, if you need anythin' feel free...oh and the bathroom is on the right," Peter said, leaning against the doorframe. Now that he'd taken his coat off and was illuminated from the hallway light behind him, you realised how skinny he actually was.

"Thank you, really," you said, shuffling backwards to the top of the bed.

"Well, if that's everything, then I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight."

"Night Peter," you replied, watching as he turned and shut the door behind him. The clothes you were in now were already pretty comfortable, and the room was just the right temperature. You wormed under the duvet - which was unnecessarily heavy - and stared up at the ceiling. Everything was going exactly how you wanted it; you were here, in Peter's bed (albeit without him) and he understood that you needed him.

It was perfect.

[themysticssdream]

the miller ranch • tommy miller

Tommy Miller x F!Reader Rating: Teen and Up Words: 0.8K Content warnings: Beginning of a relationship, Tommy smokes, kissing, smut implied (reason for Teen and Up rating) A/N: Okay, I'll be honest I have no idea what this is. I wrote this at 4am a few days ago and I thought I'd share, no matter how random it is. / As always, please take the time to support with interaction and reblogging. I love seeing the likes, but I also like feedback, too.

When Tommy Miller spoke of his family ranch, you thought he was exaggerating. He told you about it over a second glass of shared whiskey, almost poured to the rim, and with his words slightly slurred, you couldn't help but think this was his way of throwing the lasso at you, pulling you in to his charm.

It caught you by surprise on how every little detail he told you was laid out in front of you. A two-story house painted white and light grey, a porch that circled around the home; a one-story guest house at a short distance that almost shared the same features, and the stables - larger than the main house - was made out of dark wood.

You were first welcomed by the sound of wind chimes as you got of the car, the metal decorations softly swinging with the light breeze. You watched the metal butterflies adorned with colorful orbs that lined the porch railing, its wings bobbing up and down.

A loud whistle echoes behind you, gaining your attention. Looking over your shoulder, Tommy is waving towards you, taking patient steps while the two of you met at the barrier of the dirt road and the fields that kept the animals secured.

"There's my darlin'," His drawl is thick and dry you could almost feel himself slipping away under the intense heat from dehydration. He hitches his boot on the lowest beam of the fence, his body hunching over slightly to rest himself over the highest wooden railing.

"This is…" You can't help but twist your legs in a little spin while taking in the ranch. "Impressive, Tommy."

"Nah, it ain't much." Tommy was being humble now, and you couldn't help but stare at the toothpick that rolled with the movement of his tongue as he speaks. "It makes it easier to get the job done. Eat. Sleep. It's home."

You hummed, pulling away the strands of hair from your face that come loose from your hair clip, and Tommy's fingers tapped over his own hand, itching and wishing he was the one that did it for you.

"So," Your steps are slow, inching closer to him and you rest your hands next to his on the beam. "What did you want to talk about?"

Tommy grins, his cheeks slightly puffing up. He stands straight to take his cowboy hat off, running his hand through his curls that is damp with sweat. The motion causes friction at his dirt-stained tank top under his loose button up, the silver and turquoise belt buckle keeps it in place so it doesn't hitch up further, but it lays over his torso tight that you could see the dips and crevices of his thick body.

He presses his hat on him and rests himself on the beam once more, and takes his toothpick out of his mouth, flicking it to be lost in the long grass at his feet.

"I was just thinkin' about makin' you dinner, that's all, honey bunches."

You lean over the beam, inches away from Tommy's lips. The scent of a fresh cigarette lingered on his mouth, and no matter how much you hated the nasty habit, it always lured you in. "Just dinner?" You smirked while his eyes fell from yours, his tongue pressing the inside of his cheek. You knew that the slight red on his skin was not from the sun. "Don't fool me, Tommy Miller. I see right through you."

Tommy brings a hand to his lips as if he's smoking a cigarette, hiding his grin behind his fingers before wiping his smile away. "With Joel and Sarah out of town for the weekend… thought it would be nice to spend some time together."

"So, I don't have to worry about Joel making me put on some boots and helping around the farm?" Joel had playfully threatened you, telling you how if you ever came to the ranch that you would be working the farm. Deep down you knew he was serious.

Tommy stands straight and reaches for the hinge of the fence door, flicking it out of the lock to let himself walk beside you now. He's filling the space between you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he spoke, dipping closer to you with each word. "You ain't gotta worry… about a damn… thing."

And he's kissing you like a man almost starved, lips and tongue clashing with yours. You stand on your toes to be at level with him, your forehead lightly pressing up into the curve of his hat, tipping it away and exposing more of his dark curls. He mumbles sweet words of adoration against your lips, of your name, and darlin' that you feel your knees start to buckle. His hands are at your lower back, fanning out his fingers while he presses you into his soft chest.

The kiss ends in lips barely grazing, Tommy hanging his mouth over yours as if he wants to kiss you again. Your eyes are closed, relishing the taste of him on your lips and the hold he has on you. "You make it really easy to fall hard for you, you know that right?"

[eaaaazygurl]

'Do you think he knows me?'

Pairing - Arthur Morgan x F'reader

Summary - Many years have passed since your sweetheart and husband, Arthur Morgan, had died upon that mountain. Now situated in the mountains within a small cabin just some feet away from your husbands resting place, you have a daughter - Arthur's daughter. One short trip away leaving your child to her own devices suddenly results in the most heart breaking and heart warming shock of your life.

Word Count - 3089

Warnings - Death, mentions of murder, some swears and some pretty upsetting material.

Key Word - Y/d/n means 'Your daughters name'. Thought I might as well give you some creative freedom on that front!

● Ohhhkay so I did write it up in the end. It is short and bittersweet but I've been feeling pretty bittersweet myself lately so what better way to vent your emotions than write a short story about your favourite character and even better yet - make it an 'X reader' fic?! Hope ya'll enjoy. This is my first time posting a short story and I'm not very good at it, so yeah. Thanks for your time and patience ^^

● This LOOSELY follows the canon of RDR1 & RDR2, take this as an AU.

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

The early morning spring sunshine kept no prisoners when it came to waking, seeping it's stunning golden rays into the inner workings of your little log cabin, falling upon your perfectly sound and peacefully sleeping face.

Your eyes had flickered open at the disturbance of the bright glow against your closed lids, drawing a long winded yawn from your very core as you slowly pulled yourself up and out of the thick Elk pelt blanket that lie on your masterfully crafted bed.

Already the harmony of songbirds and chittering of love-crazed squirrels gifted your ears. It was barely past 6am, life here in the mountains demanded an early rise unless grey clouds cursed overhead; you knew you could sneak in an extra hour under the cover of disturbed weather within the sleepy sky when it had rolled in.

Alas, today was no different than the last few. Blue skies blessed the day ahead, promising yet another warm and forgiving twenty four hours.

When you finally decided to leave your bedroom and trapse slowly into the dining room, a flash of blonde caught your eye within the largest room of the house, sitting idol against a little wooden stool, fixated on something within their soft pink hands.

You gently placed a foot in front of the other creeping into the room, making your way silently closer to the little girl that had, what you came to realise, a little photo; two people sat practically joint at the hip upon a beautiful white steed, arms linked and hands entwined, cheerful smiles lightning their expressions. Your eyes fell upon one such figure in the image; a man dressed in almost all black attire, a charming smile, sparkling eyes and a neatly trimmed beard that was not quite cleanly shaven, two little unique scars trailing across his chin, and a unique leather hat with bolo cord wrapped around it's base.

"Lookin' at pictures of your father?" As you spoke, the little girl shot you a surprised expression with a small gasp, her brilliant blue eyes wide and startled, blonde whisps of long hair obscuring her vision: "You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry Y/d/n" You came to stand beside her, brushing the loose strands from her eyes and wrapping an arm around her waist as you drew a spare finger across the image, smiling sadly, "What are you doing up so early?"

"Uncle Charles came to deliver some fresh food about half an hour ago, he woke me to tell you that it's already been cured." Y/d/n gestured her hand towards the dining hall, indicating that Charles' delivery was somewhere within that room. He was a good man, he cared for you and Y/d/n deeply, having been a good friend of you and Arthur back when the Van De Linde gang still ran. He had found you cradling Arthur's body on top of that hill all those years ago, gently consoling you, burying Arthur with you and taking you to stay with John and Abigail whilst you recovered. After learning from Abigail that you were carrying Arthur's child not long after, he had made it his duty to provide for you. He and John had worked on building you a little log cabin just feet away from Arthur's resting place, surprising you one day with your new homestead. From then onward, Charles would visit you on a regular basis with medicine and food, helping to deliver your child and even going into hiding with your own daughter whilst you sought out Micha to kill the bastard.

Now, you were safe. Micha was dead, as was Dutch. The Pinkertons were disbanded, Bill was six feet under, Javier was who knows where in some long distance cell... all of those people who you'd concidered family once who had turned mad and dangerous, gone. Even the good men and women you respected were either dead or elsewhere, so far you couldn't possibly track them. John, Abigail... gone.

Charles and not-so-little Jack were the last of the gang you saw now.

Y/d/n slumped into your embrace with a soft giggle, but then that cheery grin was replaced with an expression you could only describe as confused, upset and perhaps even a bit lost. She spoke quietly, almost as if what she was asking was to be frowned upon, "What was he like?"

"Your father? He was amazing." You had both spoken about Arthur's life before, though you'd known that y/d/n was far too young to understand and comprehend you back then. Perhaps now would be the right time to explain things better.

"Your father was a good man, despite what he ever thought about himself," You began, gazing upwards to watch the flames of the fireplace dance and twirl, "He did bad things- we all did bad things when we were younger, but all for the greater good no less. We were dealt bad hands when we were small you see... but in the end, your father got the redemption he had been searching for. He saved a lot of people during his life, gave others opportunities they'd never imagined and dealt with those who sought to harm others." Your mind wandered deep into past memories, recalling that one time you and Arthur had met, him rescuing you from the O'driscolls, and then to the more light hearted time when Arthur had foolishly attempted to mount another man's horse in order to return the scrawny nag, only to be bucked off right into the creek beside you both. He'd stank of that bog for days afterward, but you remained by his side whilst others avoided him like the plague.

"What he would have given to see you now..." a crack within your voice threatened to draw tears, but you refrained, turning to face your daughter with a proud smile, placing a little kiss onto her forehead, "He'd be smitten."

"Do you think he knows I exist, wherever he is?" The expectant tone of y/d/n drew a pained smile from your lips, carding fingers through her impossibly soft, long, blond hair, "Of course he does," You continued, briefly catching the time with your eye; 6.50am, work in ten minutes.

"Whenever you feel lost or down, just remember that your father is always by your side, even if you can't see him." Placing another gentle kiss against your daughters head, you removed yourself from the embrace and fixed your jacket onto your shoulders from the wall as well as the same leather black hat Arthur once wore onto your head, "Be good today. I'm just off to check on the stables." You ruffled Y/d/n's hair, planting one last gentle kiss against her crown and headed for the door, taking another brief look back with a soft smile before leaving.

*  *  *

Home alone once again. It was something Y/d/n was accustomed to after spending much of her life sheltered away from all of the bad in the world.

Y/d/n hadn't blamed you, though. The world was indeed cruel. Oh so very cruel. She had hidden away whilst you stalked to the ends of the West and beyond, hunting down all of those who threatened your daughters life, all down to the very last.

Y/d/n made her way to the dining hall, carefully picking her way past the little table where the wrapped sections of cured Mountain Goat meat had been stored from Charles earlier that morning. She ran her hands past the wooden counter top and reached for the little wooden box next to the wash basin, pulling the tiny doors open.

Just as she'd expected: An empty jar labeled 'Wild Mint.'

Cooking was Y/d/n's calling, it seemed. She'd learnt many a trick from you over the years, but it was Charles who taught her the most.

He had explained the importance of each herb around the Grizzlies, where to find them and what their properties were, and especially how to store and prep them for cooking. Wild Mint was a common plant, but it also meant she had used it the most. It made for a wonderful seasoning afterall, and thus that meant running low on the particularly smelly plant was an all too common occurrence, and so Y/d/n raced towards the front door, whipping a large blue winter coat over her flowery dress onto her incredibly small body, pulling her little dark brown satchel bag over her shoulder, leaping into smaller boots and burst out into the open world.

Spring brought with it the last whisps of winters cool breath. It blew gently across the wooded landscape, catching the underneath of Y/d/n dress that made her quake, grasping the large edges of the dark blue fabric and tugging them tightly around her small figure, burying her face into the fur-lined neck of the coat, inhaling the faintest smell of raspberries and cigarette smoke.

Ocean blue eyes scanned the mountain range, vast verges and sloping hills carrying on for miles around. Drawing her attention over towards the little wooden cross, Y/d/n gave the object a faint smile, bowing her head ever so slightly with a little wave and whispered "I'll be back soon."

Y/d/n had only made it some thirty foot down the hillside before she came to the first thick stretch of woodland. It was heavy with the smell of pine needles and tree sap, damp earth and mycelium. As she strode deeper into the confines of the wood, a faint lingering scent of fresh mint leaves tickled her nostrils. Not far to go now.

There it was, a bundle of stretching stems flush with tiny green leaves grasping for the twinkle of sun rays through the treeline: wild mint.

They were situated at the foot of a large pine tree surrounded by various little rocks, likely from a previous rock slide within the area. Y/d/n scampered over, unravelling the little leather cord to pull open the fold of her satchel and clapped her hands together, rubbing them viciously so that the friction warmed her skin. Next, she settled at the base of the mint, digging fingers into the dirt and began to claw at the dark brown earth. Hooking under fresh, light brown threads, Y/d/n tugged, listening to the sound of snapping roots and felt the sensation as the cords of the mint began to click away from eachother. The first stem of mint finally came free, Y/d/n delicately removing the leaves from the stem and placing them into one jar whilst the bare stems were placed into another.

That's when the sound of snapping twigs sent a bullet of terror through the heart of the little girl.

Crystal eyes scoured the scene ahead of her in quick jerking actions as she stayed motionless in a crouch, one hand outstretched and hovering whilst the other stabilised her against the trunk of a tree.

The sound came again, closer, and finally Y/d/n caught sight of her stalker.

Just ahead of her stood a magnificent White Tailed Buck, perhaps the largest she had ever seen. It's crown of antlers bore eight points on either side, wide and almost intimidating yet elegant and luxurious. Beautiful eyes seemed to gaze into Y/d/n's very soul, and as she gazed back, she could have almost swore she saw a flicker of blue within the Buck's irises as it began to slowly sauter closer towards her.

The atmosphere within the surrounding woodland suddenly felt at ease, as if there was a complete and total shift within the universe. The Buck grew closer and closer and Y/d/n did not shift. She held her outstretched hand out towards the brilliant creature, gasping softly as it's muzzle pressed delicately into her palm, eyes slowly closing and it's heavy breathing faltering to a relaxed and slow huff.

Thundering hooves against the hard unstable ground alerted Y/d/n; a horse had been tracking her movements from the house, now making ground towards her location in quick sucession. A flash of silver and black came screeching to a stop just some feet away from her, whinnying at the harsh flicker of pebbles and stones against it's broad limbs, old age had caught up with the big brute of an animal.

You had found Y/d/n, a flash of relief sparking within your eyes as you met your daughters mesmerised gaze, and you opened your jaw to call out a loud cry of relief before your voice hitched - caught within your throat at the very sight before you.

The Buck had not fled at your arrival, rather it turned it's attention away from Y/d/n and set it's gaze upon you, ears pricking slightly almost as if it had recognised you.

Some strange force of nature - almost like a beckoning drew you from your mount and slowly stepping over towards the handsome creature. Your stomach tied into large knots and your heart fluttered within the confines of your chest cavity, and without an understanding as to why, you felt a sudden urge to come to the Buck's level, crouching down to meet it head height.

The wonderous creature took a small hoof step forward, drawing in your scent through it's nostrils, brown fur catching the wind. Slowly, he drew himself closer and closer until he had paused only inches from your face. There was a moment of uncertainty between you both - at any moment this majestic  creature could very well strike out at you, goring you in the exposed flesh of your throat and head with each individual point of his antlers.

You, however, remained seated.

Throughout all of your years hunting crazed ex-gang members, finding yourself crawling out of an explosion in hopes of finding a health tonic and finding the deceased bodies of fallen loved ones, you had always briefly acknowledged a White Tailed Buck guiding you along, watching you, following you and even guiding you towards help.

You'd always pinned it down to some sort of whacky reoccurring hallucination but now...

The Buck turned it's nose upwards. Slowly, he began to ever so gently nudge the black, beaten leather hat that rest upon your head. He nibbled delicately at the worn and tired leather bolo cord that hung loose against the inner rim of the accessory.

You let out a sudden, soft gasp, eyes wide with pure emotional shock and understanding. You felt every inch of you freeze and burn into a thousand suns, your stomach bunching up and head speaking a billion silent questions without answers.

You knew what- or who- this was.

The Buck slowly pulled away, giving you and Y/d/n some space as it gazed longingly at you both. You drew yourself onto your feet, eyes still wide and bright with shock and a confusing concoction of emotions as you came to stand behind your daughter, hands resting upon her shoulders and giving them a soft reassuring squeeze.

Your smile was as delicate as fresh rose petals, a timid flush crossing your cheeks. Your eyes glistened as tears began to form in the corners, creating tiny little gemstones of water, twinkling golden within the spring sunshine.

As you held your sights upon the Buck, you felt a rush of old memories and emotions flood you like a sudden tidal wave. Your body almost trembled at the sight now, the feeling of pure love and loss encasing you so confusingly at the same time. But you remained, and the overwhelming sense of dear calmness overtook each and every frightening feeling that chipped away at you.

A familiar smile lased your expression now, one that had not been since since you found yourself in the warm and loving embrace of Arthur. It was a sight to behold indeed, and to your surprise, the Buck's ears perked once more and tail flicked as if it had acknowledged that expression upon your face.

Y/d/n did not make even the smallest of sounds. She simply stood there, lips parted in a grinning gaup and eyes pinned directly onto the Buck in pure emotional awe. She huddled herself a little deeper into the blue winter coat at the passing bluster of a sudden breeze, gaining an acknowledging small, almost silent squeak from the Buck himself.

You wished this moment would last forever, but as the winds grew a little stronger and the sound of a distant bear call echoed in the distance, the Buck turned to give you an almost pleading look as if to say 'get yourself home into saftey.'

Tears welled within your eyes again as you allowed them to trickle down your soft flushed cheeks, giving the creature a small nod in silent understanding agreement.

You watched him back up slightly and turn to face the thick cover of the woodland, spreading out into a vast, dense forest.

It had almost felt as though time came to a standstill as the Buck began it's decent into the heavier tree line. You felt a longing to call him back, to grasp at him - anything to keep that small flame of awe alive.

You remained silent.

Before the creature pushed itself into the shadows, it took one last look back at you both.

A sad smile caught your lips and your voice finally released itself from your throat, quietly speaking a "Thank you for everything."

Bowing it's head ever so slightly, the Buck then pushed itself back through the treeline and into the shadows, leaving you to stare ahead, hands still pressed against Y/d/n shoulders.

The ride home had been a silent one. Dusk was now breaking, and the evening chorus was a gentle reminder that Y/d/n's bed time was creeping up slowly.

You had ushered her to bed accompanied with a little jug of water placed upon a tiny bedside table. You allowed her to wriggle herself into a much comfier position before tucking the Elk skin sheet up, giving Y/d/n a little peck on the forehead, exchanging a tender "I love you" between yourselves before you made haste for the doorway. Charles had arrived to help you prepare yourself dinner, and there was a lot to tell him about.

"Ma?" Y/d/n was gazing at you with wide, questioning and innocent ocean blue eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart?" You paused, leaning yourself against the door post as you gazed back into the room, meeting her ocean blue eyes.

"Do y'think Father will come visit again? Like today?"

There was a brief silence, but not one of sadness or regret but rather of seldom hope and genuine happiness as you replied with a simple -

"Yes darlin'. Turns out he's been here all along."

[cerebellam]

Tag, You’re It - Chapter 1

The Grabber x Female Reader

Summary: Leaving your shift from the hospital, you stumble across a man in need of some help. What you hadn’t considered was the fact that talking to strangers in this town was a deadly idea.

Warning(s): UNDER 18 DO NOT INTERACT. Language, blood/violence, large age gap (reader is 26), kidnapping 

Masterlist: X

A/N: Fic title inspired by the song Tag, You’re It by Melanie Martinez. Let me preface this by saying I do NOT condone the acts of The Grabber AT ALL. More details on this rant on the Masterlist. I hope you enjoy!

“See you tomorrow!” 

You waved goodbye to your coworker as you left your unit for the night. It had been another rough day at the hospital and you wanted nothing more than to return home to your apartment and enjoy a cheesy movie, a warm dinner (with maybe a glass of wine or two), and a nice relaxing bubble bath. You loved being a nurse, caring for your patients, and making a difference but at the end of the day- you were only human and needed some solitary relaxation in order to recharge for your next shift. 

Before leaving the hospital, you had changed out of your stuffy white uniform and into your “street clothes”: a t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, jeans, and converse. No need to look cute on your way home. You were painfully single at twenty-six and you truly felt like a spinster at your young age. You had never met anyone up to your standards in college or while working at the hospital and on your days off from work you were so tired that the thought of going out to socialize sounded tedious and exhausting to you. You figured your time would come eventually, but for right now- you were content. 

You began the search for your keys before slinging your duffel bag over your shoulder and heading outside to the parking lot. You took a deep breath. The night air was crisp and fresh compared to the stuffy air of the hospital.

You had just reached your car and threw your bag into the passenger seat when you heard a loud fumble and a gruntled voice come from behind you. 

“Ah shit!”

You turned around to an exasperated man on his knees, surrounded by cardboard boxes and a pile of papers scattered across the asphalt. 

You didn’t skip a beat. 

“Oh, let me help you with that!” You offered, stuffing your keys into your pocket and bending down to help the man. 

“Gah, I’m such a klutz. Thank you,” the man spoke, his face hidden from view as he began frantically picking up sheets.

“You should see me on a daily basis,” you offered awkwardly, following his movements as he placed the sheets back into the boxes. 

The man looked up at you and gave a kind, wide smile. The top portion of his face was obscured by a large pair of sunglasses, which you honestly found pretty peculiar; considering it was nighttime. He was older than you, appearing in his late forties or early fifties. His greying brown hair was cropped at shoulder length and was adorned by a small black top hat. Despite his older age and not being able to see his eyes, you actually found him quite handsome.

“I hate to bother you, but do you mind helping me lift these boxes? I slipped a disc in my back recently and my doctor would kill me if he knew I was powerlifting these and making things worse.” His voice had a light playful tone.

You stifled a smile. 

“Say no more, getting on a doctor’s bad side is no fun- believe me, I know.”

“Oh, so you’re a nurse here?”

“Yessir. And trust me, if you’re seeing your doctor here- chances are I know him. Your secret is safe with me. I saw no powerlifting here tonight.”

You lifted the heavy cardboard box into your arms and followed the man to his vehicle. 

You took notice of the man’s ride- a large black van with teal blue lettering on the side reading ‘Abracadabra: Entertainment & Supplies’. He unlocked and opened the back doors, offering a hand out to you to drop the box in the back. 

“Magic, huh? You a magician?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he bowed gracefully, tipping his hat off to you. “Would you like to see a magic trick?”

In all honestly, you were drop-dead tired and just wanted to head home for the night. You gave an apologetic smile. 

“Thanks, but I really should probably head home.”

“Sure, sure of course. Well I hope your family doesn’t hate me too much for keeping you, they must be waiting for you!”

You stifled a chuckle.

“If you want to count the Brady Bunch, then yeah sure.”

“Well, I’ll be…a pretty thing like you with no mister waiting at home for you? Curiouser and curiouser…”

You felt a blush creep your cheeks. The man was bizarre, but he was definitely cute.

The hat-wearing man rested his hands on his hips. 

“Anyways, thanks for helpin’ me. Say before you go, would you mind pushing that box back just a tad further? If it’s too close to the door it’ll just all fall right back out when I get home.”

Without a thought you nodded, turning back to face the van and shoving the box further against the carpeted interior. The box brushed past a bundle of black balloons.

Huh. Well, that was definitely odd.

A tight grip suddenly slinked around your waist, pulling your body backward and flush to the man. You attempted a yelp before a worn rag was brought to your face. Your eyes instantly stung and a sickly sweet aroma filled your senses. You managed a muffled cry as you struggled, staggering backward with the man still gripping you tightly. You immediately tried going slack in his arms in an attempt to slink downwards and out of his grasp, but the man’s large arms managed to hold your weight. You quickly fumbled for your keys in your pocket, managing to pull them out into a makeshift brass knuckle of sorts. You gripped the keys between your fingers and jabbed your hand backwards, making contact with the flesh of his neck. You dragged the metal in your hands downwards in a fast motion. The man yelled, releasing his grip on you and the rag around your face. You couldn’t see, your vision was blurred and your eyes were pouring hot streams down your face. Despite your lack of vision, you could tell a hot sticky liquid that you were very well versed with as a nurse covered your hands. You immediately lurched forward and attempted to run in any direction you could away from him. You stumbled a moment, making it a few feet before tripping over your own two feet. 

Well, you had stated you were clumsy. 

You felt a hand grip your ankle, dragging you back towards him. Your body scraped hard against the asphalt. You went to scream again but before you could he was on top of you, flipping you over to face him. A ringed hand gripped tightly around your throat. You struggled to breathe, seeing black stars form in your vision as you writhed beneath him. The cloth was brought back to your face, and the last thing you saw was the man’s blurry silhouette as you faded into unconsciousness.  

*~*~*~*

You startled awake, opening your swollen eyes to the sound of heavy rain on a nearby window.

You felt the rough fabric of what felt like an old mattress beneath you and the air felt damp and cool, giving off an earthy mildew smell. 

Your blood ran ice cold. Where the hell were you? What happened? You were sure as hell not at home in your bed. 

You blinked your blurry eyesight away and focused your eyes on the wooden ceiling above you, the room illuminated only by a single pull string light fixture. 

You sat up as quickly as your body would allow, taking in your surroundings. The mattress springs squeaked beneath you in a rusty manner. You were in a basement. A fucking basement, God knows where. Your memory was fuzzy as to how you had gotten here. Your head began to pound with the force of a thousand bass drums. 

“You’re awake.” 

A male voice made you whip your head around fast enough to give you whiplash. You averted your eyes to the owner of the voice- a man crouched in the dark corner of the room. He rose slowly, tilting his head as he looked you over. He wore a disturbing pale mask that resembled a demon with an expressionless face.

The memories of the night before slowly pieced back together. You had helped a man in the parking lot as you were leaving work before he attacked you. You naive bitch. You couldn’t believe you fell for that. You were fucking kidnapped. And this freak was watching you sleep. 

“You…you’re the one they’ve been talking about on the news. The Grabber.”

Your throat felt hoarse and it was likely bruised from the force of your attacker. The man remained silent, looking you over carefully. 

You weren’t his typical targeted population. You had seen a few missing people from around the area, but never a young woman like you.

Still, you could’ve been more cautious. Maybe being a nurse made you try to see the good in everyone. Fat mistake that was.

Still ignoring you, he took a few steps closer.

“You know, that really fucking hurt- what you did to me.” He stated plainly, gesturing to his neck where you had struck him with his keys. His voice had changed from the friendly tone he had with you the night before. It was dark, low, and gravelly. “I should slit your throat for what you did to my neck. Maybe then we’d be even.”

You swallowed nervously. You wish you had better aim and had struck his carotid artery. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation.

Your eyes began to water.

“Please,” you whimpered. “Please don’t kill me. Just let me go.”

The man in the mask tsked and approached you on the mattress. He knelt down, placing one of his large ringed hands on your cheek, wiping away your now streaming tears. 

“There there, sweetheart. I didn’t mean what I said. I was just angry, is all.” 

You wanted to slink away from his touch, but you literally already had your back against the wall.

“I know you’re scared. But I’m not going to hurt you anymore,” he paused before adding darkly, “Unless you give me a reason to.”

You noticed now that he was this close to you that he had piercing blue eyes. They bore into yours, staring dangerously from behind the mask. This man was going to murder you. You just didn’t know when.

“Now,” he gestured to his neck, caked in dry blood. “Why don’t you help me clean this up…so it doesn’t get infected, hm?”

You stared at him incredulously. You didn’t know what suddenly came over you, but now your tears had turned into angry ones.

“You expect me to do something to help you? After what you’ve done? Are you fucking crazy?”

“You’re a nurse, don’t you take some sort of Hippocratic oath?”

“I don’t think there was a code of ethics listed on kidnapping,” you bit back.

The Grabber stared at you blankly, his icy eyes narrowing slightly. You swallowed. Not like you had many choices.

“Fine.”

He quickly stood from the mattress and looked down at you huddled against the wall. He reached a hand down to grasp your chin, tilting and forcing your face to look up at him.

“Don’t you go anywhere…” 

The masked man gave a dark, sardonic chuckle and released his grasp on you. He approached the rusty blue metal door- the only exit to your new hell, and closed and locked it behind him. Now you were alone in his cold, dark basement.

-

Chapter 2

[the-fiction-witch]

Oh F-oxes P1

Media Godless

Character Whitey Winn

Couple Whitey X Reader

Rating Flirty Af

I sat in the office, I was leant back in my chair, as I read my latest Nickel Library comic. While I minded the office as Bill was away doing, well I don't know really whatever it is he's up to. I heard the door open so I glanced up and saw y/n. "Aww Hiya Miss Y/l/n, What a nice surprise," I smiled as I set my comic down and turned to sit a little better on my chair "Hi Mr Winn" She smiled, as she came through wearing her usual black and white vertical striped dress with black frills and lace, her hair braided and pinned up with her bonnet style hat tied under her chin, a little wicker basket in her arms and following along behind her the little grey fox with well fluffed and trimmed fur and little sharp blue eyes. I saw Y/n often as she lived in a little house with a wrap-around porch close to the old mine, She'd been In Labelle as long as I could remember, having moved here to live with her great uncle but he passed away in The Accident.

We certainly enjoyed each other's company being the only two around a similar age and we had been courting for a few months now even if I would have courted and married her years ago if she wasn't so damn stubborn. And Of course, I knew little Fleur. Y/n had gone for a ride out in the woods one afternoon and found a young abandoned Grey Fox cub barely through its blind and deaf stage, she helped it of course and did try many times to find its family but never did and the two were now so bonded Fleur honestly thought of y/n as her mother, followed her everywhere and took great care to protect her. "What brings ya to see me today then? Or am I just lucky?" I asked as I leaned on the desk. "I figured I'd bring my favourite deputy a little treat," She smiled as she pulled back the gingham cloth to reveal a still-steaming one of her apple and peach lattice pies which she pulled out and set on the desk "As you've been working so hard with Bill gone," "Really?!" I asked excitedly, "Of course," She smiled as she handed over a clean fork, "Do ya have a plate?" I asked as I happily took the pie and fork, "Do you need one whitey?" She giggled "Ya know me well darlin'" I smirked as I eagerly had a taste "Ummm Delicious Darlin' thank you very much" "You're welcome" she smiled as Fleur came up and perched on my desk watching me with her strong eyes, "So Whitey I was wondering?" She smiled

Ah, I knew she wanted something.

"What is it?" "I need to pop out of town for a little while," "Oh? Where ya goin'?" "Just on a little trip to visit family, I'll only be gone a month or so," "Okay," "And I was wondering if you'd mind looking after my house while I'm gone," "Ohh course no problem, I'm more than happy to pop in, collect your mail, water your plants and such" I explained, "Thank you," she smiled "And also could you take care of Fleur for me." I met eyes with Fleur and she seemed as unhappy with the concept as I was, "Uhhh? Ya sure about that?" I asked looking at her, "Well, I don't really have much of a choice. I can't take her on the train with me and Everyone else in town is scared of her, Please Whitey." "I'm not sure y/n, I have no experience with animals and I don't really think Fleur likes me very much," I explained as I got up and leaned on my desk, "She likes you, Enough." She said, "Please Whitey, all you'd need to do is feed her once in the morning and once at night, check her water bowl and give her a brush once a week that's all." "I don't know y/n…" "Please Whitey," She pleads stroked her hand across my hair then down my cheek, across my jaw, down my chest rubbed on my chest with both her hands as she moved close to press her body against me.

God damn girl she knows how to manipulate me!

That's the thing when you're courting a girl this smart, she figures out quickly how to manipulate ya! She has been denying me since we started courting, never letting me get any further than just some kisses, so she goddamn knew! all she had to do was hint and snuggle and I'd be putty in her hands. "Alright," "Yay! Thank you whitey!" she smiled as she pulled me into a hug so I quickly hugged her back "On one condition," I warn her, "Ohh?" She asked, "I will look after ya house and Fleur. If when ya get back, you come and stay over at my place a couple nights?" "Just stay over?" "Well See." "We have a deal, Mr Winn," She smiled as she pulled me into an intense kiss, I happily kissed her back stroking her waist through her dress till she pulled back "Come up to the house later and I'll walk you through everything," "Will I get a deposit payment before ya go?" "Well see." She smiled as she tapped my nose "Come On Fleur" She smiled and Fleur happily jumped off the desk fluffing her trail and she followed y/n out of the office.

[irlwakko]

okay hold on i'm gonna talk about my ideas/headcanons for how Mike's system looks in the innerworld because the show itself did them such a disservice by just making them all look like Mike >:( also this'll be long and have some pictures for when I can't explain stuff in words so it's under the read more

Chester is just Old. like that's just some old guy. He has the Old Guy Haircut of like, bald on top and the ring of white/grey hair around the sides ykwim. This haircut

He probably has some kind of glasses as well since he seems to have poor eyesight, but honestly who knows if he actually wears the glasses or if he's too stubborn to and insists he can see fine. We know he canonically uses a cane in the innerworld but I feel like he'd also have a wheelchair for when his back/legs hurt too much for the cane. OH also he wears sweater vests. And slacks

I imagine Svetlana with long (past her shoulders) curly black hair that she usually wears in a high or low ponytail with a scrunchie. we see the vision right?

And she's always either in a leotard or in warm-ups/sweatsuits. Look I know all of this is just heavily leaning on 80s aesthetics but like 80s aesthetic Svetlana is real TO ME! DO WE SEE THE VISION HERE. oh and her makeup is impeccable we all knew this

Vito...... oh Vito. The only time he'll wear a shirt is if it's either mesh or a crop top. Or a mesh crop top. He's all about the flashy outfits in every other aspect though. Jackets, pants, accessories, etc. He's never NOT dressed like he's going to the club. Also he keeps frosting his tips or just bleaching his hair entirely no matter HOW many times everyone else has tried to convince him that it does not look good. they're all incredibly lucky he hasn't bleached the actual body's hair yet

Manitoba is like........ Indiana Jones, Steve Irwin, Crocodile Dundee, and then a secret fourth thing. Who knows. He's never not wearing his hat of course, and carrying around his lasso because he takes his job VERY seriously. Also yeah he's definitely got the whole tan-cargo-pants-and-brown-jacket "explorer" combo going on of course he does

Mal is the only one who I don't really imagine too differently from his canon design? he's just,,,, more Emo in innerworld. He wears his hair over one eye of course and is usually wearing dark baggy clothes because he wouldn't be caught dead in the kind of stuff the others wear. He doesn't put a huge amount of effort into his appearance but he WOULD wear eyeliner if he had the time and energy

[pilferingapples]

Bousingo Fashion: Rash Waistcoats and Scarlet Opinions

something of a companion piece to my recent post on Romantic fashions, dealing with a subset of it --specifically, the Bousingo style, or. What Would Bahorel Wear?  

( @badassindistress​, this is for you XD)

First, for those who’ve missed my other rambles on the Bousingo/Bouzingo/Bousingots group, a quick description of their general Deal, from Jehan Valter’s account of the  premiere of Hugo’s le roi s’amuse:

No doubt, the Bousingots had fought at Hernani and broke their share of seats, but ...The Bosingouts alone were at the barricades of 1832. There is the difference between them and the Jeune-France,... while the Young-France, inspired by the Byronnian sadnesses, hid their health and their good humor under elegiac and morbid exteriors, while they were satisfied with the freedom of the enjambement, and that they dreamed of revolutions as those of art, the Bousingots manifested political sentiments of extreme violence at least in form.

There’s a LOT of room to debate this description, but it gets across the general contemporary view of the group: the street-fighters types of Romantic republicanism, or of Republican romanticism; whichever side of it you like to emphasize.  The stereotype of their character was...well, Bahorel,pretty much to the letter. Hugo knew what he was writing, down to the Rash Waistcoats. Bahorel dresses Bousingo!  which means a very identifiable and politically loaded style But what exactly did that look like?

Let’s get some more 19C quotes in here!

" ...(there was) Pétrus Borel, in “bousingot” costume of insulting originality*: Marat* waistcoat, and a pointed hat with long ribbons, descending in the middle of the back.." (Jehan Valter's account of the opening night of le Roi s'amuse)

He could be spotted from afar by his pointy, wide-brimmed grey hat, his goatee, his long hair, by his enormous red cravat that clashed with the white lapels of his Marat-style waistcoat...- George Sand, Horace

There’s already a lot going on here, but let’s start with: 

Rash Waistcoats

...the best fellow possible; he had rash waistcoats, and scarlet opinions... (LM 3.4.1)

So as far as I’ve been able to tell, a Marat waistcoat is a waistcoat with really, REALLY Extra lapels. Based on , of course, Marat, as seen in this image:

(ID: noted French revolutionary Marat wearing an extravagantly loose cravat, and a furry...jacket? with wide, spotted lapels. Very Wide. Almost sticking out further than his arms. He’s gonna put someone’s eye out with those things./end ID)

I *think* those are coat lapels--but the waistcoat named after him seems to be based on that look. Lapels for days! (note: a “Robespierre” waistcoat, like Grantaire wears, seems to be the same idea- a waistcoat with wide lapels--but not as exaggerated, and with a different cut.  Like so :

(ID: a bright red waistcoat with lapels that reach almost to the arm-scye /end ID) And you can read more about them at this excellent post! )

George Sand’s Bouzingot wears a white Marat waistcoat,but red was a more iconic color. And a very specific red! Let’s fire up the quotes again!

" In order to avoid wearing the infamous red of '93, I had admitted a slight admixture of purple into the dye, for I was very desirous not to be suspected of any political intention. I was not an admirer of Saint-Just and Maximilian Robespierre, as were some of my comrades..." -Theophile Gautier, A History of Romanticism 

The “infamous red” to avoid was scarlet, the color Bahorel definitely wears: 

Bahorel, who was like a fish in water in a riot...wore a scarlet waistcoat, and indulged in the sort of words which break everything. His waistcoat astounded a passer-by, who cried in bewilderment:--

"Here are the reds!"

The Beards

“It was my beard that saved us! my romantic beard! my pretty little romantic beard!"- Les Miserables, 3.8.12

A beard ,fine,silky,full,scented with benzoin,and cared for as a Sultan's beard might be,... A beard ! A very ordinary matter in France nowadays,but at that time there were but two in the country : Eugène Devéria's and Petrus Borel's . It required absolutely heroic self - possession and contempt of the multitude And mark that when I say beard , I do not mean mutton-chop or fin-shaped whiskers,or a tip or a tuft,but a genuine,full,complete beard,one to make a man shudder . -Theophile Gautier, A History of Romanticism

In the 1820s and 1830s (especially early 1830s) beards were incredibly Out. Men of Proper Society simply Did Not Wear Them,  Oh, they had facial hair--but not beards. 

I need you all to understand how silly this dividing line got, so I made a Diagram: 

(ID: a rough sketch of a face, showing, in order, sideburns, a moustache, a neckbeard, and all three combined; these are in green and labeled “fine”. one face has a small soulpatch-level goatee, labeled “Risky, Satan’s Chin Patch”.  The last shows a short but fully connected beard, with  facial hair covering the entire jawline, labeled “Anarchy, Riot, Doom” /End ID)

The Full Beard was Iconically Romantic and especially iconically Bouzingo Romantic, as you’ll see when we hit the caricatures. Oh boy, are there gonna be caricatures. 

The final part of this is the hat--and here, I think, it’s time to move into contemporary (and near-contemporary) illustrations. First , a fairly Subdued version of two Bouzingo meeting: 

(ID: two Bouzingo talking closely, with a Secret Handshake. They are wearing the clothes described in this post. Behind them  a policeman gestures angrily. /end ID)

I love this picture (and would love to know the provenance!) ! You can see the Marat waistcoat lapels, the beard on the one on the left, and, of course, the signature Pointy Hat. Imagine those lapels in bright scarlet, those trousers in plaids, black, or white, and the jackets in either bright blue or dark black for maximum waistcoat contrast, and you’ve got a good mental image of how this would have looked at the time. 

...You can also see the police officer telling them to move along. “Hostile Police Interaction”is also an iconic part of the Bousingo look, for obvious reasons. 

Here are some more fairly realistic, and sympathetic, pictures; these are illustrations of Laraviniere, the “Bouzingo” character in George Sand’s Horace. 

Beard, long hair, pointed hat, extravagant but loose cravat,  “Robespierre” style lapels sticking out, tight plaid pants, solid cane for whomping people in fights? It’s the whole package baby! 

I gotta include this picture too, because “naked , having grabbed a carpet, so you can come out and fight with landlords and cops” is also an Iconic Bouzingo Look. I am extremely not joking. If you’re going to care at all  about propriety , you can’t be Bousingo, and at least one group (and that led by Borel, Bahorel’s most direct inspiration) did run a nudist commune for a while!

These images are reasonably realistic,even sympathetic, portrayals. Now let’s get to the caricatures, and how people who didn’t like them saw all this. This is some of my favorite stuff, it’s hilarious:

Image: Caricature (un peu chargée) d’un “bousingot” romantique  This image, leaning heavily on the Romantic associations of the Bouzingo, brings in that Medieval-style dress I mentioned. Apart from the hat and beard, this guy doesn’t have anything particularly Bousingot about his outfit; the dramatic ruff and doublet-esque cut of his coat could go for any Romantic. But I love this picture , look how ticked off he looks!XD

I have no idea if this illo, titled “Old and New”, was supposed to be insulting, but I think it’s really charming! It’s a French Revolution-era revolutionary-- Robespierre-striped coat, knee breeches, wig or powedered hair, little cockades, etc,-- meeting a then-”new” Bouzingo, in striped trousers, a broad-lapeled tricolor waistcoat, a wide-brimmed “sombrero” type hat (also a solid Bouzingo fashion choice) , full beard (but super short hair--the other way that fashion ran,it’s either long or basically a canon-level buzzcut), and 1830s coat. The old Revolutionary carries a neat cane, and appears to be opening a snuffbox; the Bouzingo carries a fightin’ stick, and appears to be smoking a pipe made with a crowned skull holy shit I love it.  And they’re getting along just fine!  I have no idea if the vibe is supposed to be “The kids are all right! carrying on the banner!” or “ Look,the Youth of Today is trying to bring back that awful Revolution!” but either way the affinity between generations has me charmed.  (and again, we see the strong perceived political aspect to Bouzingo fashion!)

Now a couple of definitely unflattering images:

Above, from an article about “newspapers and their readers”: a Bouzingo reads Le Charivari!  as @clove-pinks​ said on the post that introduced me to this image: “Swanky, obnoxious outfit, long hair, reading Le Charivari illustrated magazine—it’s a bousingot Romantic! “ Again we’ve got the hat, the beard, the loud pants, the stick (I am dying at the stick placement omgggg) -- but you can see how the negative take on them frames them as poor (everything here is patched and broken) , dirty, and menacing. 

One more, from the same source as “Old and New”:  a whole darn group! Again, there’s the outfit geared to be provocatively tricolor, the broad sombrero style hats, a friggin Phrygian cap, a heavy stick , and beards all around. Note though the wide array of colors, especially the guy in a pink hat in the background!:D 

So there’s Bouzingo/Bozingo/Bousingo etc fashion for you! Right at the intersection of Aggressively Political and Dramatically Romantic, bright, brash-- but still leaning into (then) modern styles. This look was about knowing the modern dress code enough to send very clear and specific messages; in this case, “Ready, willing, and able to throw down for the republic at any moment”. It could be toned up or down , but it was always  LOUD (Bouzingo Means Noise!!) and it was meant to be a legible message to anyone who’d been in Paris for five minutes.  Anyone wearing this outfit (a) knows how to do Style, and they’ve chosen to wear this look , and (b) is a fighter, or is about to become one, because oh,you will get punched in this outfit.  Or arrested. Or punched and then arrested. 

But you’re gonna look incredible when it happens. 

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Wylan Whump Fic bc i am predictable af xD

My friend! ❤️ I’ve been working backwards through the second chapter, but I wrote the beginning of it just for you!

The darkness was an oppressive thing. It weighed down his eyelids. His blood felt sluggish and thick in his veins.

And when he finally managed to pry open his eyes, the light felt like daggers.

All that Jesper knew in that moment was that his fucking head hurt. It throbbed like it had its own heartbeat, white hot pain radiating out from his left temple. Up was down and down was up, he could scarcely even tell where his feet were. Was he lying down? Had someone sat him up? It left him fumbling and disoriented, made his gut roil, flipping and twisting– it was only by some minor miracle he hadn’t been sick.

He breathed through a long few seconds with his eyes screwed shut, just barely squinting as he adjusted to the lamps in… wherever he was.

It wasn’t the Slat. It wasn’t anywhere he recognized.

If he could think logically– or see normally– he’d be rolling his eyes at how dim those painful lamps actually were. Their ember-like glow wasn’t from any type of window or opening, emanating instead from dusty looking, cracked sconces fixed to the walls. They were nestled between dug-in shelves. Dug-in because, the more he blinked the world into focus, Jesper could tell they were made of packed earth.

This was some type of cellar. The world was coloured in shades of shadowy brown and grey, and it would be hard to see even if he was in the best of conditions– something he was not. But he could feel the soil under his hand, caking itself under his nails as he clawed weakly into the floor where he had been dropped. It smelled like a cool spring night on the farm– tilled earth, a fallow field with nothing planted yet. What was different, though— made his lungs feel tight and ache for home— was the musty, recirculated quality to the air. It was cold, but still. Stagnant. Like Black Veil.

Jesper shivered even as he felt something warm drip down his cheek, and wondered idly if he was sweating or bleeding.

His brain stayed a foggy, thoughtless thing, for even longer than his eyes stayed bleary and burning. It wasn’t until his body adjusted to the new, elevated baseline of pain that the throbbing started to ease off. Dimly, he acknowledged his own body, taking stock— his hat and gun belt were gone; he was stripped down to his trousers, waistcoat and shirt, and it made him shiver. Whoever had taken him had thrown him carelessly to the dirt floor, leaving him a heap on his side. There was no doubt that he was already bruising. And then there were his hands and feet— his wrists and ankles felt heavy and rubbed raw, but he hadn’t thought about it too hard. Not until just then, when a feeble kick of his legs sounded like clinking metal. He blinked down to where he’d dug into the dirt, and his followed the chain of his shackled hands.

Shit.

He remembered the acrid tang of blood and smoke, chemical compounds tingeing the air as he pushed open the workshop door. The apology he was rehearsing abruptly trailed off as he took in the state of the place.

And the state of Wylan.

Wylan.

Across the small room, crumpled into a dead-looking heap of scrawny limbs and singed curls, was a body. A Body. The thought was unthinkable but he couldn’t turn his mind off of the terrible chant of it– dead, dead, he’s dead, his brain uselessly supplied. The body was so still, one ghostly pale hand laying limply out toward Jes with something rusty smudged into the fingertips. The body was still faceless, fully hidden in the crook of an elbow and a careless flop of curls– but Jesper would know him anywhere. That unmistakable, untamable hair; that too-big overcoat; the slender line of his hand with those precise fingers.

It had to be some trick. Some terrible trick by some… who would do this? Any of it?

“Wy—“ his voice was nothing but a ragged croak, but there wasn’t much moisture in his throat to help him clear it. It hurt, fuck, everything hurt. “Wylan, Wylan! Wake up! WYLAN?”

Yeehawwwww hopefully the chapter will be up soon! Thanks for playing! ❤️❤️❤️

[blueberry-bubbles130]

Here's the redesign for Andre Bourgeois!

God it was such a fucking pain to do, but I got it done after a few days.

Design Choices-

So for Andre's regular redesign, I kept his grey hair. I imagine because he's the mayor of Paris, the owner of a famous hotel celebrities stay at and with his wife being famous as well, the stress made him go prematurely grey. Because of the extra stress he's under due to occupation and the sudden appearance of akumas I also gave him eyebags. Like there is no way this man is mayor, a hotel owner, trying to reassure the people of paris about the akumas and not losing immense amounts of sleep over this, with stress. I changed his tie to a bow tie to differentiate him from Gabriel because I know they're going to end up looking similar in my style. And because I've changed his character a bit, i feel the bowtie suits him better. I also gave him dark red reading glasses, and darker blue eyes. His suit is just a regular one with some black dress shoes. He's also on the shorter and stockier side compared to Audrey and Gabriel who are taller and thinner.

I also redesigned Malediktator. Now I'm not fond of the canon design for Malediktator at all, the colours are all too bright in my opinion. And after looking on Tv Tropes the hat he wears is supposed to be like the one Napoleon Bonaparte wore, however because of the shape and colour choices it doesn't quite look like that. And I just don't like it at all.

So for my version of Malediktator, I tried to go into a more historical direction. I gave him a tricorn hat, and long coat as well as breeches, and buckled shoes. I gave him a cane. Now you may be wondering where the akuma is if I never gave him the sash, but it's in the cravat, which regularly is his bow tie. His skin I kept blue but it more of a desaturated grey-blue colour so it's less eye strain. His sclera's are a cold grey-blue and his irises are red with light red/white cats eye pupils.

Personality/Story Changes-

I changed Andre's age because in the canon show apparently he's 70, which I'm not dealing with, so instead he's younger but him and Audrey are on the older side of all the adults. At beginning of my rewrite he's 45 years old and by the end he is 47 years old.

In my rewrite, him and Audrey have known each other and dated each other for a longer time than they knew Gabriel, Emilie and Natalie. They met at a theatre Audrey worked as a costume designer at, and Andre had gotten a temporary jobs as a screenwriter at. He left after a while to study becoming a lawyer but was still dating Audrey, while she started her own fashion brand. Eventually they got married, had Chloe and he became mayor, then Audrey went to New York for a few years to set up an American branch of her fashion brand.

For personality, I made it so he's not corrupt and is less willing to assist Chloe in her antics because Chloe is also toned down. I also made him a lot more paranoid, it makes more sense for me due to his jobs, dealing with akumas and Chloe causing akumas in my opinion. I also made him more nervous in general. He deeply cares about Audrey and Chloe, but due to workload he hasn't got the time to be around Chloe, which is partly why she's lashing out for her parents attention which she doesn't get because they're both heavily overworked.

For his relationship with Audrey, they love each other and they're pretty much an opposites attract relationship, because I changed Audrey a lot in my rewrite, mainly she's not abusive. He's nervous and paranoid and Audrey is the strong commanding one. She helped him find confidence, whereas he helped her from rushing into things and messing up.

In my rewrite for the majority of season 1 and 2, Andre is nervous and paranoid especially with the akumas. He worries alot about the safety of his daughter at school because of the akumas and is worried about his wife returning. He knows that if she returns while the akumas are about, due to her stubborn personality she'll become an akuma or an akuma will target her. This changes when at the end of season 1 Darkblade almost executes him by guillotine. Then Audrey returns.

Season 2 mostly stays the same until about 3/4 of the way through Audrey gets akumatised into Style Queen and then the next chapter he's get akumatised into Malediktator. Now the reason for his akumatization changes from Audrey and Chloe wanting to leave to him having meltdown due to stress and not being able to truly protect his family from the akumas and Dague Noir. He becomes Malediktator and takes over quite a bit of Paris with him taking Audrey to city hall to protect her. Chloe as Queen Bee shows up on her own and reveals her identity to Andre to distract to deakumatise him by destroying the cravat.

Then for the season 2 finale Miracle Queen occurs due to an argument between Ladybug and Chloe over Chloe wanting to be a hero. But Ladybug won't let it happen due to her revealing her identity and Ladybug simply not wanting to deal with Chloe.

Season 3 begins with Andre and Audrey realising simply how bad their neglect of Chloe affected her and promise to be better parents to her. This goes mostly well with them trying to teach Chloe how to ride a bike. Chloe doesn't tell them about the bullying she's now facing at school simply because she doesn't want to bother them or stress them out because she's enjoying this new family bonding time with them. However shortly after this Andre and Audrey go missing after going away for a weekend for their wedding anniversary. The police found their car crashed on the side of the road by a tree with blood inside of it, but they aren't in the car or anywhere near it for that matter. Unbeknownst to Audrey and Andre, Gabriel is Dague Noir and has taken them captive in order to blackmail Chloe into working with him. For the rest of season 3 he holds them in a private cabin he purchased privately, so no one can find where they are. Gabriel does have a tv in the cabin so they can at least see the news. However they have injuries from the crash, with Audrey having a few broken ribs and Andre having a broken foot. They don't find out Chloe is Abeille Gardienne until the end of season 3 when Mayura and Dague Noir come back to the cabin solely to give them Chloe's blood-soaked hoodie from her impalement, and Dauge Noir ranting to them about how much he despises Chloe

For season 4 nothing really happens, with Audrey and Andre, apart from them worrying about what the hell is happening with Chloe, and figuring out Gabriel is Dague Noir due to Andre telling Gabriel where he was going for his anniversary because Andre still thought they were friends. Until at the end of season 4 Chloe, Adrien and Sabrina take down Dague Noir and Mayura. Chloe reunites with her parents at the cabin, but immediately after seeing them she passes out because of exhaustion and her lingering injuries revealing the facial damage to her parents. At some point during their kidnapping Audrey and Andre also see Chloe as Abeille Gardienne have a breakdown on live tv, because of the stress Chloe's facing having to work with Dauge Noir.

Roger Raincomprix arrives to the cabin with Butler Jean and Miss Bustier only to find Andre trying to strangle Gabriel for what has happened. At the end of the story, after Gabriel and Natalie's trial, Andre and Audrey try to move on with their lives while being better parents to Chloe. As well Adrien gets adopted by them.

Next redesign will be Audrey, then Gabriel's.

[she-talks-to-angels-14]

New Girl: An OBX Story

Part VIII: You Sank His Boat?

Part 7

(Y/n’s POV)

A couple days had passed with not much excitement. I had spent time here and there with the pogues but mostly I stayed at home with my parents. I was sitting in the living room watching a baseball game with my dad when my phone vibrated beside me.

I picked it up and was greeted with a text notification from Kie.

Kie: Hey wyd tonight?

Me: Nothing that I know of why?

Kie: there’s an outdoor movie night tonight and we’re all going, wanna come?

Me: yeah sure sounds like fun!

Kie: Great we’ll pick you up around seven!

Me: Ok! See y’all then!

“Who you texting sugar?” Dad asked.

“Just Kie,” I smiled. “She invited me to an outdoor movie night that’s being hosted in town.”

“Oh sounds fun,” he replied. “Are you going to go?”

“I had planned to, that is if you and mama are ok with it.”

“Of course we are honey,” my mama said walking into the living room. “What time are you leaving?”

“Kie said they’d be here at 7 to pick me up.” I smiled at her, “thank y’all!”

“You’re welcome,” Dad said, “we like your friends they’re good kids.”

I just smiled my friends were good people no doubt but we had some pretty sketchy adventures and my parents would die if they knew about them. We sat and continued to watch the rest of the baseball game, cheering anytime something good happened for LSU. The game ended with an LSU win and by the time it was over it was five in the evening.

I got up from the leather couch and made my way upstairs to the bathroom where I could shower and get ready for the night. I wanted to look cute tonight so I decided to go all out. I curled my brunette hair and pulled it up in a half up half down hair do. I did my makeup in a glamorous but neutral look. Once I was done with my hair and makeup I made my way to my closet. I pulled out a pair of ripped jean shorts and added my black Zach Bryan shirt to it and finished off the look with my hey dudes. I put on my Sagittarius necklace, I checked my outfit in my mirror and was pleased. I then grabbed my phone and checked the time. It was 6:50 the pogues would be here any minute.

I went downstairs to the living room, my mama was the only one in there. “You look cute,” she smiled. “Trying to impress someone?”

“No mama,” I laughed and I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks. “I just wanted to look cute tonight I haven’t really got done up since we moved here.”

“Mhmm.” She said skeptically, “I think you’re trying to look cute for one of those boys you’ve been hanging out with.”

“Whatever you say mama.” I said rolling my eyes but maybe she was right maybe some part of me wanted to look cute for the boys. I was drug from my thoughts by my phone ringing. JJ’s name popped up on my screen, “I have to go,” I mouthed to my mom as I answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey hot stuff we’re pulling in your driveway.” His voice rang through the phone, “are you ready?”

“Yeah I’m coming out the door,” I said hanging up the phone. “Bye mama I’ll see you later!” I called as the door shut behind me.

My feet moved fast as I heard the rocks under my feet crunch as I made my way to Kie’s suv. The passenger window rolled down and my ears perked up at the sound of a wolf whistle coming from the car. “Looking good tonight!” Kie called leaning over Pope. “You’re in the back!”

I nodded in response and opened the back passenger door, JJ was sitting behind Kie he snapped his head in my direction as the door opened. His blue eyes widened as I came into view and a smile graced his face. I slid into the backseat and smiled over at him. “So what movie are they playing tonight?” I asked.

“It’s some older movie,” JJ said, “like it’s in black and white that’s how old it is.”

“Oh so we’re watching like a special showing or something?” I said looking over at JJ his hat was on backwards and his blonde hair was flipping out from under his hat. He had on a grey T-shirt and his normal khaki shorts had been replaced by a pair of blue jeans. He looked rather handsome tonight.

“Yeah I guess you could say that,” he said looking over to me with a smile, “you look nice tonight.” He scooted a little closer to me.

“Thank you,” my cheeks flushed, “so do you.”

“So who are you all dressed up for tonight y/n?” Pope asked.

“No one,” I laughed, “I just wanted to look cute tonight.”

“You always look cute,” JJ muttered quietly.

“Awe I bet Jay thought you were trying to impress him,” Kie teased.

JJ flipped Kie off and she just laughed he went to say something but she turned the radio up to drown him out. The sound of “Just Pretend” by Bad Omens filtered through the car I couldn’t help but sing along to the song. I lost myself in the song and before I knew it we were pulling into the outdoor cinema.

I got out and met everyone at the back of Kie’s car. The hatch was open and she was pulling out blankets and handing them off to each of us. She had only pulled out three blankets, two of us were going to have to share. As we were making our way to the sitting area I saw Rafe, Topper, and Kelce staring us down, instinctively I moved closer to JJ. “The kooks are watching us,” I whispered to him.

“Great so much for a drama free night,” he sighed.

“Maybe they’ll ignore us tonight,” I smiled up at him.

“Maybe,” he smiled back draping his arm around my shoulder. “Hey I know there’s not enough blankets for everyone to have their own but we can share mine if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” I leaned into him a bit more as we walked.

We finally found a spot where we could set out our blankets and we all settled in to watch the movie. JJ and I were sharing his blanket and we were sitting extreme close to each other. I kept hoping he would make a move, drape his arm around me and pull me in but he hadn’t yet. A breeze blew through and sent a chill through my body. I shivered my teeth chattering lightly.

“Are you cold?” JJ asked scooting closer to me.

“Just a little,” I said, “I’ll be alright though.”

“If I had a jacket I’d give it to you.” He smiled looking down at me.

“Really JJ I’m ok,” I shivered again.

“Come here,” he said putting his arm around me and pulling me to him. I laid my head on his shoulder and inhaled his scent. He smelled like teakwood and musk. He was wearing cologne today. I got comfortable in his embrace and enjoyed the movie.

______________________________________

(JJ’s POV)

Y/n had her head on my shoulder and my arms were wrapped tightly around her. Her breathing was steady, comfortable, I wasn’t watching the movie but instead was entranced by the girl laying in my side she was beautiful even when she wasn’t trying to be, but tonight she looked amazing. Her was done and she had gone all out with her makeup. She said she wasn’t trying to impress anyone tonight but she had definitely caught my eye, she always catches my eye even when she’s pulled her hair in a messy bun and has no makeup on at all. The wind was blowing more steady now and the smell of her hair wafted to my nose, it smelled like strawberries.

“JJ,” Pope called breaking me from Y/N’s spell. “I gotta go take a leak man.”

“Ok and you’re telling me this why?” I asked.

“I don’t want to go alone,” he said looking behind us. Topper, Rafe, and Kelce sat in lawn chairs behind us watching the movie. Well two-thirds of them were watching the movie. Rafe was too busy staring daggers into me I assume because of how close Y/n and I were.

“Shit they’re blocking the bathrooms,” I sighed, “You’re not going to be able to get to the bathroom man.”

“Where am I going to go then?”

“Over there, behind that tree,” I pointed in the direction of the large tree.

“Good deal,” Pope stood quickly.

I rubbed Y/N’s shoulder, “I’ll be right back babe.” I stood up and followed Pope instantly missing the closeness between Y/N and I.

“Where are y’all going?” She asked.

“Gotta take a leak,” I responded walking backwards toward the tree.

“What are y’all going to hold it for each other?” Kie asked. I flipped her off and turned to follow Pope.

We made it to our destination and did what he had set out to do. I had finished pissing and was waiting for Pope when I heard footsteps approaching in the distance. “Dude hurry up!” I said with urgency in my voice.

“I’m done, I’m done!” He exclaimed as he zipped up his pants.

We turned to head back to the girls but we’re met by the three kooks blocking our path. The backed us further away from our seats and we were now behind the outdoor movie screen.

“I know it was you who sank my boat.” Topper said as he walked closer to Pope, “admit it!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pope replied.

“You’re not so bad without your gun are you?” Rafe taunted me.

“Take one more step and I will end you!” I challenged.

Topper taunted Pope calling him a thief repeatedly until he snapped and head butted him. In that instant the fight was on. We were outnumbered, topper was focused on Pope and Rafe and Kelce came after me. Kelce had gotten me in a headlock and Rafe was standing in front of me.

“You know,” he said walking closer to me. “Y/N sure looks too good to be hanging on the arm of someone like you. She should’ve been here with me.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so shallow and got to know her,” I sneered, “you could’ve had a chance with her, she’s a great girl but you couldn’t see past her looks and money.”

His fist collided with my gut. I struggled against Kelce’s hold while Rafe continued his barrage of blows.

“Rafe you asshole,” Y/N’s voice rang out. “Get off of him!” She grabbed his shoulder and struggled against him to pull him away from me. He shoved her to the ground and turned his attention back to me. Kie was trying to get Topper off of Pope, she was hitting him on the back.

Y/N soon recovered from Rafe shoving her off of him and returned with a vengeance, this girl was resilient and I think I’m falling in love with her. She tapped Rafe on his shoulder and when his head turned she punched him square in the jaw. He stumbled back nearly falling.

“A little help here!” Topper shouted, Kie was still landing blows on his back.

Rafe stood up and his attention was focused Y/N, he lunged at her and she jumped out of the way, he was shouting profanities at her and she shot right back. Rafe eventually caught Y/N he had her wrists in his hands. She struggled against him and rage flooded through me, I broke free of Kelce’s hold and was making my way to Y/N and Rafe when all of the sudden the movie screen went up in flames. The kooks hold on each of the respective pogues was let loose and they ran off. I grabbed Y/N’s hand and we all ran in the opposite direction of the kooks.

Once we got to Kie’s car everyone was out of breath. “What the hell happened?” I asked.

“I set the screen on fire,” Kie shrugged. “It got us out of trouble didn’t it?”

“You saved our asses,” I laughed.

“JJ,” Y/N breathed softly, “you’re bleeding.” She said as she touched my lip that I didn’t realize was sore until her soft fingers brushed it.

“I’ll be alright,” I smiled at her. Her concern was adorable.

“We need to get out of here,” Kie said as she started the car.

The ride back to Pope’s house was spent in silence. As we approached I could see the flash of blue and red lights. The cops were here, for what though, remained unseen. As Kie put the car in park we all jumped out and ran to his front door. Once we entered his house we were greeted by Deputy Shoupe.

“Pope Hayward,” he said sternly. “You’re under arrest for the vandalism of Topper’s boat.” He put Pope’s hands behind his back and was getting ready to put the cuffs on him.

“Wait,” I piped in, “it wasn’t him, it was me.” I said. Pope and Y/N both looked at me shocked, they knew the truth, but I couldn’t let Pope ruin his future. He had a bright one ahead of him and me, well I had nothing.

“No JJ wait.” Y/N and Pope said in unison.

I looked at them pleading for them not to say anything. I had nothing to lose, I’d be ok. Y/N’s face fell, she looked heart broken her eyes glistened in the flashing lights outside. Even upset she was beautiful. Shoupe put me in the back of a squad car and soon pulled out of the Haywards driveway. I watched Y/N and my friends disappear into the night. I could only hope they understood why I did what I did.

______________________________________

(Y/N’s POV)

After watching JJ get loaded into the cop car Kie and I gif farewell to Pope and his family. I knew why JJ did what he did, he was protecting Pope, but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less watching the scene unfold in front of me. Most of the ride was spent in silence both Kie and I in shock of the nights events.

“I can’t believe he sank Topper’s boat,” Kie said finally breaking the silence.

“He didn’t,” I sighed, “he was protecting Pope.”

“You don’t expect me to believe Pope sank the boat?”

“I do actually because he did.” I looked over at her, “Rafe and Topper beat the hell out of him while making deliveries, he got revenge by sinking Topper’s boat.”

“How do you know that?”

“They told me the other day before we met you and JB at the beach to go surfing.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.” I sighed as her headlights scanned my house as she pulled into the driveway. “Looks like I better be going, I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” she said as the door closed behind me.

I made my way inside the house, it was dark which tells me my parents had already gone to bed. I quietly climbed the stairs and went to my room. I laid on my bed and the night's events played back through my head. The night was going so well, until the altercation the boys had with the kooks and after that it seemed as if the tides had turned and we were destined to have a terrible night. I would give anything to still be at the outdoor movie my head on JJ’s shoulder and his arms wrapped around me, but that’s not the case here, instead I’m in my bed while he’s in a jail cell awaiting bail for a crime he didn’t even commit.

I wasn’t aware of the tears that had begun to fall down my face. I still had my makeup on and I knew my mascara was running, so I went to my bathroom to clean my face and put on my pajamas. Once I was done I came back to my bed and was getting ready to go to sleep when a tapping sound on my window nearly caused me to shriek. I turned slowly and was greeted by the blonde haired boy I’ve grown to adore. I ran over to my window opening it quietly.

“What are you doing here?” I was shocked as I scanned his features. His lip was busted up worse than it was before he had been taken away and his shirt was covered in blood that wasn’t there before.

“I made bail and I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he said looking down shyly. “You were the only person I could come to, JB is out of town, Pope’s parents would freak if I showed back up, and Kie’s parents would kill me if I even stepped foot on their land.”

“Why couldn’t you go home?” I asked curiously as I reached out to help him through my window.

“I couldn’t take any more of this,” he said as he gestured to his face and bloody shirt.

“Your dad did this?”

“Yep he’s not too happy with me,” he chuckled.

“I’m so sorry,” I said pulling him into a hug, I felt his body relax against me. “You don’t deserve this, you were protecting a friend by taking the fall for him and your dad beat you up.” The tears were welling in my eyes and a rogue tear fell quickly to his shoulder.

“Hey don’t cry,” he said, pulling away and putting a gentle hand on my cheek. “I’m used to this kind of thing. I’ll be good as new in a few days.”

“But you shouldn’t be used to abuse,” I cried.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down babe before you wake your parents up.” He said pulling me into a tight hug again. “I’m ok, I’m here with you and I’m ok.”

My body continued to shake with quiet sins while JJ stroked my hair and whispered soothing words to me. Once my breathing returned to normal I pulled away and looked up at him. “We need to get you cleaned up and doctor those cuts.”

“I can’t really get cleaned up,” he said looking down at me. “I don’t have any extra clothes.”

“I do,” I smiled pulling away and walking to my dresser. I dug him out one of my old oversized basketball t shirts and a pair of old basketball shorts. I made my way to my bathroom, placed the clothes on the back of the toilet, laid out a towel and washcloth for him, and cut the water on for him. “You’re all set,” I said walking out of the bathroom.

“Thank you Y/N, it means a lot to me,” he smiled walking passed me.

“You’re welcome.” I made my way to my bed and laid in it while JJ showered. My exhaustion began to was over me and I struggled to keep my eyes open. Soon darkness washed over me and I was dead to the world, I was woken up by a pair of strong arms wrapping around me and lifting me up. “What’re you doing?” I ask groggily.

“Trying to fix your blanket so you don’t get cold.” He whispers in my ear. He then places me back on my bed and pulls my blanket up over my tired body.

“JJ?” I ask yawning

“Yes ma’am,” he responds quietly.

“Will you hold me?” I’m not sure where the sudden boost of confidence came from, maybe it’s the exhaustion. “Please?”

“As you wish,” he says climbing into my bed and wrapping his arms around me pulling me to his chest. “Why did you want me to hold you?”

“My emotions are still reeling from tonight,” I lay my head on his chest. “And for some reason when you hold me, I feel safe, comfortable even.” My vulnerability shows.

“I'm glad I can make you feel that way,” he smiles.

Oh that smile, I could get lost in it. I find myself staring at his smile at first then my eyes divert to his lips. Soon I am closing the distance between us until our lips are just millimeters apart. I can feel his heartbeat quicken under my hand as we stare at each other, lips nearly touching. The anticipation is maddening, JJ gently grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger and closes the distance between us. Our lips meet in a soft and gentle kiss, much different from our first kiss, his lips are rough and busted from the punches he took earlier in the night.

The kiss ends far too soon for my liking, “I’m sorry,” JJ says, pulling away. “I could do this all night but my lips kind of hurt.” he chuckles.

“I understand,” I smile, laying my head back on his chest. “Goodnight JJ.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” he says as he runs his hand up and down my back soothingly.

It doesn’t take long for sleep to wash over me. My eyes are tightly shut and I am on the border of sleep and awake, that place where you aren’t sure if it’s a dream or if it’s real, I can still feel JJ rubbing my back gently lulling me to sleep.

After a few more minutes he’s sure I’m asleep, he places a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I think I’m falling for you,” he whispered so softly it was almost inaudible. His body shifts as if he is getting comfortable without disturbing me, and his heartbeat soon steadies into a soft beating pattern.

There is no way he really said that, this is definitely a dream, I am off in dreamland and everything that happened after saying goodnight wasn’t real.

[1poda]

She Hates Pirates!

Pt.2

Pt.3

Pt.4

Pt.5

Pt.6

Pt.7

Pt.8

The Thousand Sunny washed over clam waves with ease and utilized soft wind to pull its belly to the nearest island, Nami stood with a concentrated stare on her wrist where the log post pointed ahead to an oncoming mountain "We're almost there guys!" the ginger mentioned loudly as she descended from the upper deck with a hum "We should probably prepare to board soon"

"Namiiiii my loove! I've Prepared You A Refreshing Drink To Cool You Down Before We Make It To The Islaaaaand!" the blond chef appeared with hearts in his eyes and a tray balanced on his fingers, just as promised a cold drink awaited for her with a delicious appearing liquid along with bobbing ice cubes and slices of lemon. A similar cup mirrored it on the other side of the dish, an extra beverage for Robin she guessed.

With a mindless sip, The Navigator watched the cliffside grow closer in the distance, in the past few days newspapers had been plastered with the recent going's on of their next destination, apparently, the Marines had been abusing their power over the islanders until a revolutionary group came and seriously began mixing things up.  

'According to some eyewitnesses, their leader hates Pirates and keeps a close eye on the crew members when they port...' her brown eyes blinked before drifting around the Sunny and noting every member, all but one, but she already knew where he was. 

Sitting atop Sunny's snout sat a young male with a wide grin and straw hat, his eager stare inhaled any detail he could spot the closer their trusty ship dipped. 

Standing with a palm on the crown of his hat Luffy stretched from his sitting position and chuckled at the endless adventures the next port could lead to. 

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

"I'm sorry but we can't let you guys in just yet" A tough guard stood in front of the Straw hat Crew, wrapped in dull clothing and a rifle strapped to his back Nami did her best to keep the situation under control while also attempting to get what she wanted, which was passage to the town. 

"I don't see the problem, we're only here to restock it's not like we're gonna be here for long" Ussop mentioned while peeking over the railing, Chopper doing the same and agreeing with a nod. Zoro stood next to the crouching pair with crossed limbs and an unamused stare "We should just leave and head straight to Sabaody I say" 

"Idiot, we can't do that!" Sanji cursed with furrowed brow in tow "We'll never make it with the food we have now, we'll starve in the middle of dangerous waters besides-" the chef lit a cigarette "Luffy got into the meat locker a few days ago so our rations are way to low. We can't pass up this island even if we wanted to"

"Hmm, this place doesn't seem very groovy" Franky lifted his sunglasses with an almost dirty look. The buildings were small and grey with cobble ground and barren markets, Robin made her way to the cyborg's side with little change in her demeanor "I hear this island has been recently liberated from corrupt Marines, perhaps the people who helped them haven't had time to tend to this town just yet" 

"Why can't you just let us in? I promise we won't be too much trouble" Nami whined with a cute smile and a dip in her back allowing her shirt to fall slightly, unimpressed the guard glanced to the side with a raised brow "We're under strict orders until our leader gets back, s-so.. if you guys just hang tight for a while I'm sure she'll be back soon"

The Navigator gave a sigh at her fruitless attempts and made her way back onto the Sunny and explained everything "So I guess we'll have to wait for a while"

It wasn't long till childish groans filled the grassy deck. 

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

"Lenny- Report" a strict tone came as a rush of hard heels echoed through a bright hall, a hidden being with white hair and a thick black jacket that hung from the stranger's shoulder marched down an echoing hallway- much like a short cloak- surrounded by men who looked ready to fight at any given moment, the male to her right blinked at the sudden attention "O-Oh! You mean me!" Lenny quickly raised to salute before listing various things the people were still in need of, what areas were still infested with crime, where her second in command resided, and certain orphanages that needed more supplies "And then there's the pirates down at the North port-"

"Good, that's close by. I'll deal with them first and after that we can finally hand out supplies to the people who live there" her work tone cut of the last off the messengers news as the group made their way to the nearest exit.

[youllallriseintheink]

The Infiltrator, chapter 2: An Endless Sea

The next morning, N put on the grunt uniform. It fit fine, but he still looked far too much like himself, and his long, wild green hair was too dense to hide under the uniform’s hat.

“Do you think I should cut my hair for this?” N asked Anthea. “It’s pretty distinctive, and I really don’t trust Iris’ suggestions. I mean, who’s going to believe that I’m from another dimension? I’m bad at pretending to be what I’m not at the best of times, but if people could look at me and not immediately see N, there might be less acting.”

“I guess that makes sense. If you can find me some scissors or something, I’ll cut it.”

“Got it. I’ll also see if I can find us some food. A lot of the employees live here, so they must eat here, right?”

“Makes sense to me.”

The cafeteria was easy to find. Once N was out of the white hallways, there was a crowd of grunts all heading for the same place. All N had to do was follow them. Once N was there, he grabbed some fruit and muffins to take back to the group and did a quick scan of the room for anyone not wearing black. A pair of men sitting across from each other- one well-built and wearing blue and the other smaller and dressed in red- jumped out at him right away. He saw a man wearing a grey vest as well, but for all he knew that could just be a slightly different grunt uniform. And then his eyes scanned over a tall man with green hair and gold and purple robes.

N’s heart jolted. He scrambled for the hallway, forgetting for a second that he was meant to look inconspicuous. Once he was in the halls again, he slowed down. Thankfully no one stopped him on his way back to his room.

“How was it, N? Did you find scissors or anything?” Anthea asked

“No. And we have bigger problems. Ghetsis is here.”

N explained the situation, and as the group ate, Abraxas messaged N’s castle. Multiple staff members assured them that Ghetsis was still securely in his cell and reported that nothing unusual had happened that morning.

“Maybe it’s just your nerves,” Concordia suggested, “It’s a new and busy place. You could have mistaken someone for him.”

“It’s either that or Iris was telling the truth about where the admins come from. I did only see Ghetsis for a second before I took off,” N admitted. “Well, no matter what, I saw a few admins. I guess I should go look for one of them to question.”

Thankfully, one of the admins was easy to find- right outside the white hallways, N caught sight of the man in blue. Now that N could get more than a passing glance at him, he saw that the man was wearing what looked to be a cross between a pirate’s outfit and a wetsuit. Between the scars, the muscular physique, and the tanned, rugged face, he was a sharpedo of a man, wrapped in neoprene and smelling of saltwater.

“Hey,” N said, catching the man’s arm, “I’m new here. Giovanni hired me to be your assistant. Can I come with you for a bit?”

“Of course!” The man said, flashing a sharp-toothed grin. “I don’t know why Giovanni thought an assistant was needed, but come along! The name’s Archie!”

Archie led N out of the building and through a thin path in the jungle, which led to a beach from which many ships with the rainbow R on its flags were being launched. Of the ones on the shore, many Rainbow Rocket grunts were preparing them to take off.

“So! How much did the boss inform ya on what it is I do?”

“He didn’t say anything,” N replied.

“Alrighty, then! I’ll explain. Rainbow Rocket might’ve reformed its image to the public, but Giovanni is a crimelord, see? He has enemies in organized crime groups and international police who ain’t so easily fooled. What I, the other ex-members of Team Aqua, and the other grunts in my division do is make sure they don’t get any funny ideas about attacking by sea. Come along, now.”

Archie ran to one of the ships and began untying it from the dock. N picked up the pace and leapt on.

Archie chuckled. “You really don’t know anything, do you, boy? The ship’s not going anywhere until we let up the anchor.”

N looked away. “Oh. I suppose I don’t.”

“It’s okay. It’s your first day. You’ll get the hang of it.” With that, Archie brought up the anchor, released the sail, and the ship left the harbour. N held onto the ship’s railing as he watched the shore get further away. He was completely out of his depth and now was not a good time to find out he was easily seasick, but it was comforting to be away from any eyes but Archie’s for a while. N made his way to the front of the boat, where Archie was steering.

“It’s a bit strange that Giovanni gave me an assistant who doesn’t know a thing about sailing, but I think I know why he did it. What’s your name, laddie? You remind me of someone I’ve heard about.”

N froze up. If he lied, would Archie believe him? His story about being Archie’s assistant was already tenuous, and it seemed like Archie was already coming to his own conclusions. “Who do I remind you of?” N asked.

“There’s this boy I heard of on TV a while ago. He thought that owning Pokémon was cruel to them and wanted to force people and Pokémon apart. He isn’t in the news anymore. I always wondered what became of him.”

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m N,” N said, not sure whether to feel relieved or not.

“Ah. It makes sense then, why you’d be here with me. You see, I care deeply about Pokémon, too. We keep hurting their environments when they’re innocent of any wrongdoin’. I think that’s wrong. I’m guessing that you’re the same.”

“Well, sort of. I never took the environmental angle. I just thought that people were hurting Pokémon directly by keeping them from the wild. I never thought of things on a wider scale like that. Though, I think if we were damaging the world enough that it was seriously hurting Pokémon, they would push back. They’re smarter than you think.”

“Aye, they are smart. But they’re already suffering and they haven’t hurt us back. Maybe it’s just not in their nature.”

“Maybe. People, Pokémon, it’s an equation with a lot of variables. I doubt there are any easy answers. It sounds like you know what you’re doing, though. So, what’s your answer to the equation? Because right now, I’m kind of just taking things a day at a time.”

Archie frowned. “Before Team Rainbow Rocket, I wasn’t sure humans should be a part of the equation.”

“Not... part of the equation?”

Archie wiped the seriousness from his face.“Don’t you worry about that. Giovanni has a better way forward for us.”

“Alright. Well, it’s nice talking to you. I’m actually a little surprised. When I heard this was a team of villains, I was expecting a bunch of really scary people, but you’re a lot like me. I know some people considered me a villain for a while. Maybe this will easier than I thought.”

“You’ll be just fine here, laddie. Rainbow Rocket has all types. They’re not all the friendliest, but they’re not all scary, either.

“Good. Before I forget,” N took the espeon out of its ball, “Giovanni wanted me to do a loyalty test on the admins. It won’t take long, and I won’t see any of your other thoughts. Just touch the Espeon and we can have it over with real quick.”

Archie looked at the espeon with hesitancy. “Well, I... suppose I can’t defy orders from the boss. And it looks like it’ll be smooth sailing for a little bit. It’ll only take a minute, right? And we’ll be able to jolt out of it if something goes wrong?”

The espeon jumped into N’s arms. "Yes,” N said, knowing the answers to neither of those questions.

“Alright.”

Archie took N into the boat’s quarterdeck, and, once they were both seated, touched the espeon on the head.

N woke up in the orb pool. Right away, an orb that had to be a meter across caught N’s eye. The scene within it swayed as though Archie were on a ship during a hurricane, and skyscrappers were being thrown through water.

“Giovanni,” N whispered, knowing that he ought to keep his thoughts on gathering information on Rainbow Rocket. But then, this scene did look to be important. N ignored the orbs that came towards him and immersed himself in the massive one.

---

Today was the day. Archie steered the Team Aqua submarine to the entrance of seafloor cavern. Every member of Team Aqua had readied the ships to take sail once the rains came. Soon,the world would be given back to the Pokémon. The blue orb was packed away in the submarine’s storage.

Finally, the cavern’s entrance became visible through the inky blue of route 128. Archie brought the submarine into the cavern, shut it off at the water’s surface, and led his team out, carrying with him the blue orb.

The cavern itself seemed nothing special to an untrained eye- just mud, stalactites and puddles of water illuminated by the group’s flashlights. Everything was according to plan until Archie got near enough to the inner chamber to realize it was glowing. That wasn’t right- Archie had been to the inner chamber once before, and it had been an unassuming pool, just like the rest of the cavern.

When Archie entered the cavern, he was faced with the glow of headlamps from dozens of Team Magma grunts, and at the center of them all was Maxie. And at the back of the chamber, a drill was parked.

Archie growled. “How dare ya drill into a sacred place like this!? Can’t say I expected any better from ya!”

It was only then that Archie realized that Maxie looked desperate and distressed, in addition to annoyed with him. “Now’s not the time to worry about petty details. Archie, we won’t let you do this. Stand down. We can talk this out like rational human beings, or we can fight. It’s up to you.”

“You’ll have to fight us, then,” Archie said, taking out a pokéball.

Maxie took out a pokéball as well, and his grunts did the same. They outnumbered the small group Archie had brought three-to-one, but, almost to the person, they were at a type disadvantage.

“This isn’t you,” Maxie barked. “Remember when we were on the same team? You had such a big heart for me and our other teammates, and...” Maxie grit his teeth like it pained him to say it, “and you were always the better one with people. How can you hate humanity so much when you love people?”

Archie softened for a moment. Then, he had an idea. Sure, it was possible that if his team released their aquatic Pokémon into the cavern’s lake, they could beat Team Magma’s numbers with their advantage over fire and ground-types. But he didn’t have to rely on the odds of that. Archie picked up the blue orb and, like a football player running for a touchdown, made a mad dash for the underground pool.

Filtering out the grabbing hands and panicked voices of Team Magma members, Archie held the orb over the water. “Listen up, Kyogre! If we’re going to get this done, we need to get it done now! Rise, and return this world to nature!”

With that, the cavern began to rumble. The mighty blue whale ascended from the depths of the pond, and with it, a surge of water that overflowed the pool so quickly that the cavern would surely be completely filled within less than a minute.

“To the drill!” Maxie ordered, panicked.

“To the submarine,” Archie ordered to his team.

Team Aqua made a mad dash the way they came as the tunnel filled. Water reached Archie’s knees and then his stomach. When it reached his chest, he turned to swimming through it instead. The submarine came into view just as the water levels were reaching the ceiling. Thankfully, Archie was able to pull himself to its top and open the hatch before doing so would let in copious amounts of water. Six Team Aqua members came in shortly behind him- Shelly and five grunts. Then, Kyogre swam by. The sheer force of the water it generated sent the submarine crashing through the cavern’s rock wall.

“To the water’s surface!” Archie ordered. This was more force than he’d anticipated. Hopefully everything would still be according to plan.

For a few minutes, surface proved impossible to reach. The torrent of the water was simply more than the submarine could navigate, and the surface kept getting higher. As Archie saw the passing capsized ships and sunken cities, it also became unecessary. He didn’t need to see the surface to know that things were completely out of control.

---

N came out of the memory. It took him a moment just to recover from shock. Orbs still floated around him- memories that N had summoned when he’d asked for memories of Giovanni. N shook his head, trying to focus himself on his goal: he needed to know what Giovanni’s plan was. He took one of the orbs- a basketball-sized one this time- and put it to his forehead.

---

Archie drew a fifth hatchmark in his notebook.

Day five,

The water has settled since I caught Kyogre yesterday. I’m not sure if its levels have have started lowering yet, or if they ever will. Whatever the case may be, I know it’s too late to change anything. I haven’t seen a spot of dry land or a single functioning ship since I summoned him. They must have all capsized in the initial hurricanes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Team Aqua was supposed to help a few dozen people and some land-dwelling Pokémon survive the floods, and then I was going to have Kyogre let the waters recede enough for us to have a little land to live on. I will always regret overestimating my ability to control him.

We passed a sunken garbage dump yesterday. Dead and dying aquatic Pokémon were all around it. This isn’t even good for them.

Archie sighed and looked up at his despairing crew before burrying his head in his hands. Then, a flash of light ocurred. Archie looked up to see his old boss, Giovanni, standing before a portal.

“I’m here to rescue you,” Giovanni said, “and to give you a proposition. Come with me. All of you.”

Giovanni guided the weary travellers through the portal, which led to an underground room filled with strange machinery. There was also a Team Rocket grunt there, who offered the members of Team Aqua towels and fresh clothes.

“How is everyone doing?” Giovanni asked once everyone had had a little time to process. “Better?”

“What be the catch?” Archie asked. He was grateful, but Giovanni wouldn’t do something like this out of the goodness of his heart.

Giovanni narrowed his eyes at him. “I want you to rejoin my team, Archie. You were one of my best grunts, and in every universe I’ve been to, you’ve made a lot of yourself. More than Maxie ever did. And you are the most powerful Archie in the multiverse. I’m assembling a team of villains to take over Aether Paradise and raise an army of ultrabeasts. Would you like to join me? I could give a position to your teammates as well.”

“That depends: what exactly are we doing with the ultrabeasts?”

“That doesn’t matter. Join me or I put you back on the submarine.”

Reluctantly, Archie stuck his hand out to shake. Giovanni returned it.

“Good man. I’m taking the lot of you out for tauros steak tonight. You must be sick to death of seafood. Now let my grunt blindfold you so we can leave. Only a select few are allowed to know where we are right now, and that selection does not include you.”

—-

N shook himself to reality.

Also newly awake, Archie took a look at the clock and anxiously sprung up and took hold of the ship’s wheel.

“I thought you said it would only take a minute- it’s been over twenty!” Archie snapped. “I have no idea where we are now! We’re lucky we didn’t crash into the rocks!”

“Sorry,” N said. It was strange to know that this man was a destroyer of worlds.

“Arg... well, I should have known better than to leave the ship unattended, even if I did think it would just be for a minute. But you have to be more careful out here!” Archie moved to put a hand on N’s shoulder, but N backed away from him. It was then that N noticed that same blue crystal orb from his visions, embedded into the center of the ship’s wheel.

“I have to go,” N said, “Giovanni wants all the admins’ loyalty tests done today.”

N didn’t wait for an answer. He tried to make his retreat look casual, but he didn’t even remember to return Espeon to its ball until he’d already let out and mounted his briaviary. He was off in an instant, leaving a confused Archie behind.

[edupunkn00b]

First Snow

A gift for @8beez for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange. Rating: G, WC: 2445 - AO3 - Spotify Playlist CW: cold, scroll to the bottom for additional spoiler-filled warnings. ~~~

Snowflakes glittered in the lantern light and the wind came up over the frozen stream, creating little eddies along the path to the big yellow house on the other side of the bridge. Snow crunched under the boots of a passing couple and Patton nodded to them as they passed, then continued on his way toward his old friend’s house. Or his friend’s old house. Both, really.

The snow had started early in the day with big, fat flakes that stuck to hats and scarves and tree branches before they gradually shrunk into the crunchy, sparkly, tiny crystals that now floated through the evening sky. They caught the light and the breeze, dancing together as they gently fell over the quiet town. With the exception of the young couple, the paths between structures were empty, and soft, golden light spilled from windows. The promise of warmth and home shone in the flickering shadows, along with the occasional peal of laughter that managed its way up chimneys and smoke holes.

Patton always loved the snow, especially the first snow of the season, the way it blanketed the houses, pristine and clean. Snow drifts collected on the banks of the stream, still running sluggishly in a lazy bend past the town. A thick layer of cottony white already decorated the previously bare trees, lending a magical feel to the otherwise depressingly empty branches. Later, the snow cover would brighten the long winter nights, reflecting the moon and starlight with a silvery glow. The stream would freeze solid and the townsfolk could go out with blades strapped to their boots and skate across the slippery surface.

For now, though, only patches of the stream were frozen, and most of those, Patton knew, were only a few inches thick. Not nearly thick enough. Ice skating would have to wait for a few more weeks.

He shook himself, resuming his walk across the bridge and, before long, found himself standing on a large, covered porch in front of a well-worn wooden door. The thick wood was adorned with a brass knocker, now darkened with a rich patina. Patton remembered when the knocker was brand new and he’d needed to drag over one of the milk stools from the barn just to touch it. It was easier now, of course, but he still had to stretch to reach it.

Sooner than he might expect, a bolt clunked into place and the door creaked open. “Janus!” Patton cheered at the first sight of his old friend. Leaning heavily on his walking stick—’It’s not a damned cane!’—Janus smiled out at him, wincing as a blast of cold air ruffled his greyed hair. 

Clad in flannel lined work pants, Janus was wrapped in a thick woolen sweater the color of fresh butter, and, if Patton knew him, just as soft. A matching scarf was draped over his shoulders and he already wore rabbit fur-lined gloves. “Pat,” he whispered, voice creaky, like he hadn’t spoken for a while. “I was hoping I’d see you this evening.”

“Well, of course you would!” Patton grinned, waving his arms around them. “It’s the first snow of the season! We couldn’t miss that!”

“Let me get my coat and I’ll be right out.” He stepped back, opening the door a little wider. “Would you like to…” Janus began and before he could even finish his question, Patton stood next to him, smiling brightly at the ribboned evergreen boughs draped over the doorway.

“I love your decorations this year, Jay!” He turned on the spot, gazing around the room as Janus pulled on a heavy down-filled coat. “They’re just beautiful.”

Smiling, Janus pulled on a wool cap and nodded toward the door. “I was hoping you would like them,” he said as he joined Patton on the porch and closed and locked the door. Together, they made their way slowly down the steps, and Patton smiled gratefully at the way Janus’ new gloves gripped the snow-slicked handrail.

Once they were on the path, Janus followed Patton’s gaze and nodded. “They were a Christmas gift from my granddaughter. Nice and warm. She made them,” he smiled, pride warming his features even as it stretched the jagged scar that split his cheek from the corner of his mouth to his ear. “She’s visiting with her wife and their kids… They’re putting the little ones to bed and Payton is out at the dance in Town Hall.”

“Well, tell her I think they’re beautiful,” Patton said. “She does really nice work!”

Janus nodded, attention focused on his steps as they moved over a growing snow bank. “We’ll need to get back before that grows too much,” he murmured.

“We will. It’s not a long walk,” Patton reassured him, looking over his shoulder at the path heading back over the stream. “Not like the other way.”

“I remember,” he nodded, voice cracking again. They walked in silence for several more feet, Janus’ walking stick tapping against the snow-covered  pavers with each step. “First snow had come early that year,” he mused, nodding to the beat of his staff. “You were so ready to go skating. You wouldn’t listen to anyone try to tell you to wait.” Condensation puffed out into the cold night air with his low laugh.

“In my defense, I was only eight,” Patton giggled.

“It’s a good thing you were, too, I could fit you on my sled to get you back to my house,” Janus harrumphed, sounding every bit of his ninety-three years.

~~~

“Pat?” Janus called from the top of the hill. He’d just seen him, and Pat had promised to wait until he went down the slope one more time before they went to test the ice on the stream together. The weather had turned quickly that year, butt luckily they’d just finished bringing in all the carrots and beets before the ground iced over. It still meant helping Papa chop wood in the snow, but it also meant the start of sledding sooner, so it all worked out in Janus’ mind.

Pat had other ideas. “It’s so cold,” he’d grinned, kicking at the icicles growing from the edge of his porch. “I bet the stream’s already frozen hard enough for ice skating.” He lowered his voice as his older brother walked past with his nose buried in a book. “Meet me by the bridge tonight and we’ll go see. It’s a full moon, plenty of light to see.”

So, about an hour after dark, Pat had stood at the bottom of the hill, just next to the far side of the bridge. “C’mon down, Jay!” He waved a large branch over his head. The big hickory on the other side of the schoolhouse had fallen over in the last storm and all the children in the town had claimed a piece of it. Pat’s was taller than he was, thicker than his arm at its widest part. The pair had spent a good hour debating what to make with it but still hadn’t decided, so Pat had taken to lugging it around with him, alternating between pretending it was Moses’ staff or the oar Charon used to take new souls across the River Styx.

And now the branch lay abandoned in the snow next to the stream.

Jumping on the sled, Janus raced to the bottom and leapt off. He picked up the stick and called out again. “Pat!? Pat, where are you?” 

“Jay?” The voice was a whisper on the wind, weak and shaky. But it was definitely Pat. “Jay, I’m down here.” Janus’ eyes darted around the bank until finally he saw a dark lump near the snow. It was shaped like a person. A very small person. “Pat!”

Janus ran toward the edge of the water, but his feet flew out from underneath him when the snow gave way to ice. The little boy went down hard and his face hit a sharp rock, cutting a long gash in his cheek. He barely felt it and jumped back to his feet, taking the branch with him as he rushed to the water’s edge.

The dark shape by the water was Pat. Clinging to a tree root, he looked up at Janus with a fuzzy gaze, the lower half of his body still submerged. With a sickening squelch, his little fingers slipped from the roots and the water closed over his head.

“Pat!” Janus screamed and drove the branch into the water next to his friend. “Pat, hold on! Grab it!” There was no movement in the water and Janus held his breath, afraid the smallest sound, the tiniest shifting of his own body would distract him from his friend. After an eternity of waiting, he dropped down on his belly, some distant part of his mind noting the snow around him was stained red. “Pat, hang on!” he called again, and tried to scoop the branch underneath his friend.

Something caught and he levered the branch against the snow until one small arm flopped out onto the bank. Janus scrambled toward it and gripped Pat’s hand, soaking his own woolen gloves with the icy water. Somehow, he managed to heave his friend out of the water the rest of the way.

Fingers growing numb, Janus left Pat higher up on the bank while he dragged over his sled. “Come on, Pat, one more good push,” he begged his limp body as he pushed and pulled him onto the sled. The impact forced a weak coughing fit from the little body and Pat curled in on himself, hacking up some of the water he’d inhaled. 

When it was over, Pat lay in a sodden heap on the wooden slats, and Janus took off his own coat and laid it over his friend. There was more red blood against the dark gold wool. Then he wrapped the rope around his arm, leaving his numb fingers in a loose and useless fist as tugged hard.

Slowly, one step at a time, he inched the sled up the embankment, the sled rope tangled around one arm. He drove the branch into the snow as they moved and used it to pull them both up. When they reached level ground at the head of the bridge, Janus leaned on the branch, panting. Red splotches covered the stick and his coat, and a shaky red trail in the snow marked their path up from the water. He rested for less than a minute before he started out onto the bridge.

At the midpoint, Janus spotted a lantern lighter and he called out, “Help! Help, he fell in the water!”

As two adults rushed over at his cries, Pat coughed again, a glimmer of blue peeking between his eyelids. “You’re gonna be okay, Pat. Gonna be okay.”

Janus hovered close, shaking off Miss Dot’s kind hand as she tried to lead him away, “Jan, honey, let’s get you someplace warm and take a look at that cut on your face…”

“No,” he said loudly. “No, ma’am,” he repeated in a lower voice, looking up at the tall woman who’d been their teacher for the past year and a half since the last school teacher moved West. “Pat's my friend. I'm gonna stay with him.”

Miss Dot nodded with a stiff smile. “Well, then, let’s get you both inside and fetch you something warm.” She eyed his cheek, turning his head gently with one gloved hand. "It looks like the cold has helped stop the bleeding, at least," she muttered, then took his hand.

They followed the lantern keeper back to Janus’, the closer of the boys’ houses, and got them both settled on a mat in front of the fire. “Is he still breathing?” Her low voice carried through the quiet house but Janus only paid attention to his friend.

“I’ll keep you safe, Pat,” Janus whispered, pulling the blankets up close to his friend’s chin and keeping him facing the fire. He smiled when Pat’s eyes seemed to follow him. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Another cough wracked his little body and their mothers came over. When did Mama get here? She dabbed at his cheek with a wet cloth but he shook his head. “No, get Pat warm first.”

“Jan, it’ll scar if we leave it too long,” she cajoled, following his gaze to Pat where he finally lay still, eyes glistening in the firelight and panting quietly with the force of his last coughing spell.

“I’m fine, Mama,” he insisted. “Pat first, then me.” Pat coughed again and Mama touched his mother’s shoulder as Janus helped him sit up, rubbing his back.

Mama's voice was gentle. “Let’s call the doctor to take a look at that cough, Lucy.”

~~~

“It sure was lucky Doc was able to fix me up before spring,” Patton’s cheerful voice rose up with a gust of wind, dancing among the snowflakes falling like diamonds from the clouds. “That cough could’ve turned into pneumonia really fast,” he nodded, keeping pace with Janus. Occasionally, Patton would see something ahead and investigate it. First, a long clear icicle hanging from a low tree branch. Then later, what looked like rabbit prints in the snow. But he never moved more than a few feet away from his friend’s slow, steady steps. “Pneumonia can be serious.”

”It really can be, Pat,” Janus nodded. Leaning heavily on his hickory walking staff, its diligently polished gleam barely marred with time, he slowly lowered himself to a seat on a nearby bench and looked out at the falling snow. The flakes were falling faster now and the town was so quiet, he could hear them touch the ground.

”Granddad?” Payton’s voice behind him was soft, but still he started slightly. “It’s getting cold, Granddad.” She stood next to the bench and offered her hand. The door to town hall banged open in the distance and music flitted through the air. “The dance just got out. How 'bout I walk you home?”

Janus turned to where Pat had stood, the snow blanketing the ground smooth and glittering gently under the streetlights. He gestured to the small marble headstone in front of them. “Did you know I helped Papa carve Pat’s name into that?” he nodded. "He let me hold the chisel and everything."

”So that’s where Mom gets it,” she smiled as Janus took her hand and, between her help and the strength of his walking stick, pushed himself up to his feet. They slowly walked back to the big yellow house, following the single set of footprints he'd left in the fresh snow. "Why don't you tell me about it, Granddad?"

~~~

Spoiler: "off-screen" major character death

[misfiredmonologue]

sex shop dispatch #2

a short story

catty #2 (2023); drawn in MS Paint on a cash reigister desktop pc in a gay sex shop in berlin

Plane crashes. Snow on the side of the runway. I look out of the window and smile, while everyone is screaming, hurling off the inflatable slide off the side. I do not stay, I let myself be carried by the crowd, but it feels almost like I am gliding over them, like some kind of unbothered ghost. The plane is not on fire and the wind outside is really cold, yet smells of burnt rubber. We make our way to the rescue personnel among the fire trucks and I look back to see a slender, human-feline body open the side window of the cockpit and jump out unharmed. Their grey fur is ruffled by the wind like tall grass, as they push the captains hat over their catty ears. They walk off into the opposite direction, onto the runway we had just veered off from, that's barely a different shade of white now, with taxiways, snow and more taxiways layering themselves before the grey terminal building, that hovers in the background. For a brief moment an orange winter sun breaks out behind a dense layer of clouds and fog and illuminates their path, as if to say they made the right choice not heading into the commotion. From their confident calmness I can feel that this cat just saved our lives and somehow only the two of us get to feel this supernatural mood shift and zen wash over us. "First time?", the cathuman mouths from quite far away. I smile again and look at the crowds, to which I am still closer, frantically pulling out their phones to film or call loved ones, pushing into busses that were arriving and being tucked into silver and gold thermal blankets. I nod and watch them dance over the snow like speckles of light. "It's been ongoing though. Relentless.... anyways, what made you slip off the runway?" My whispering carried all the way over to the runway. The cat shrugged. "Today I knew this was the right way. I knew it even before the tire burst. You could say I was prepared." The set of footprints was all that was left after a while. My following eyes deduced they had walked all the way back to the gates and with much effort snuck their way all back into the pilots rooms to a warm cup of black coffee.

It would be two more month until I would meet the pilot again, via a more of less blind date on grindr. He hadn't put any photos on his profile I could have identified him with, but the view of the soft chest laying on a sun flooded mahogany bed under a skylight with soft sheets of fabric draped around it pulled me in. I wanted to meet the person who could afford to have such impeccable taste in their comfort and hornyness and seemed to live in a space where not a single thing was grey, except chest hairs fluffing up against pillows. I found out his name was Marshall when I got there and I mostly remembered it because he looked like a Marshall. I lied and told him I worked in a Sex Shop, when the truth was I had quit soon after our accident flight, when my floating state didn't wear off quick enough and my calmness scared the customers and staff alike. The attraction between us produced some kind of static in the air, that he charmingly brushed away. Even with the hairs on his head standing up he didn't look undignified or funny to me. It was like he was happening to the world, not the other way around. It was as if we had met now again specifically because of that day on the tarmac and not because we both had texted back horny messages and forth for an afternoon last weekend. "Would you like some tea?" I accepted and intuitively moved across the heavy wooden floorboards towards the bed, where I curled up into a little bun. Naked and soft to the touch. The green tea cup leaned again my exposed skin soon after and the floating that had taken a soft slumber in me awoke again and I saw Marshall and me from above, while I could feel his teeth sinking into the soft dough I had become. I was the perfect afternoon tea snack and he devoured me whole, taking sips out of his cup, leaving mine spilled between the bed sheets. To my surprise I realized I was not hovering over the bed unsupported, when he had taken the last bite, but was leaning down from a rather large bookshelf, overlooking the bed nook. Maybe I had just watched him eat a soft cake with his tea and I was in fact still here. I wanted to say something, like "do you still fly?", to break the ice, but he had sensed the question and waved it away. He invited me down and we fucked for a night and once again when the morning sun struck the other side of the apartment, the kitchen, which hadn't lay illuminated yesterday evening. He sat down there again after a while, and with him leaving it replayed that he was gone again this time, from feeding on me to walking away. And once again he was happening to the world and there was nothing it could do about it. It was the first time I met a person that became present the more by themselves they appeared. I took that imagine into my mind for quite a while, watching his spread legs and still slightly hard clit and his absent yet content gaze across the kitchen table. This was the day the floating stopped, but it was clear that the flight had changed something in me. I shook off some breadcrumbs from my shoulders and hurried out onto the balcony barefooted, jumping out over silver and grey roofs into Berlin.