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girlwithwolftatoo · 2 years

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The devil and the flower -chapter 5

Warning: Physical abuse

The frightened princess

He went out to pick up the newspaper, as he did most mornings. He hadn't seen the new paperboy yet, he didn't really care much, he had a lot more things to attend to. He put the newspaper under his arm and went into the kitchen, next to the dishwasher the voice of Nancy Sinatra could be heard, and in a frying pan some strips of bacon were frying.

Minutes later, he separated some of the scrambled egg he had prepared and put the dish on a tray. He opened the refrigerator, and discovered that there was not a single bottle of soda left inside, and sighed, angry with himself. He would have to serve something else, no way. Some coffee in a disposable cup, of which he still had at least a half dozen, with three, no, four tablespoons of sugar. Life is too short to make it bitter.

When he opened the heavy reinforced door, he saw her lying on the mattress, curled up like a cat, arms tight against her chest, wounded foot almost dangling over the edge. He descended the last few steps without a sound, he was an expert at being quick and quiet, and he had no desire to disturb her sleep, not yet. The coffee was hot, it would take a few more minutes before she could drink it, there was no point in waking her.

He noticed that her body had tried to avoid the broken springs of the mattress, he imagined that, if she lay on one of them, she would shriek in pain. It was like that story, the one about the princess who couldn't sleep because of a bean... or was it a pea? He would have liked to have had more time to spend reading, those stories with happy endings....

After carefully depositing the tray, he sat down on the wall closest to the mattress. No, he would not wake her up, that flower that was already unrolling its petals could not be touched, not yet, he would be content to heal her wounds (why did she have them, by the way? did she throw herself from a moving car?) and then, when she was recovered, then he would look for a way to touch her.

A sigh lifted her chest, and then, brown eyes widened, dazed. In front of her was the tray, and the open door. She blinked, quizzical, and slowly sat up, feeling as if she hadn't rested at all despite the long hours of sleep.

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?" the Grabber asked after long seconds of silence. Violet jumped up and snuggled against the wall. She looked at him with wide eyes and a displeased expression, just like everyone else, he thought.

"What are you doing?"

The smiling mask made no move. The girl shifted her gaze to the food, and with a trembling hand took a small mound of scrambled egg, and then, her face turned back to her silent companion, bringing the food to her mouth and chewing slowly, unblinking, as hieratic as he was.

"I'm sorry if I scared you" commented the Grabber as Violet took her second handful of egg "I didn't mean to, you were asleep..."

That made the girl uncomfortable, if now it turned out that this madman was going to look at her even in her peaceful hours... Well, she really didn't have much left, she had been almost all night thinking about the last boy's words in her sleep, or whatever the hell that was. No playing, no winning, was the best way to sum it up, the game had begun and she didn't know the rules.

And she wouldn't know them if she didn't make him talk, she thought as she swallowed.

"It's yummy" she murmured "The egg".

"Yes... it's very good, isn't it? Very healthy."

It seemed no one had ever dared to speak to him before, his voice had gone from its usual casual tone to a slight tremor. That was good.

"I'd like to eat some other things" Violet commented, half playing with what was left on her plate. That's when she noticed the disposable cup with the coffee, and picked it up with her other hand "I don't know, ham, bacon... pancakes..."

She fixed her eyes on the holes in the mask, which shadowed the Grabber's view, wishing she could get a better look at him to get his reactions. The mask was a problem she had to solve, too, eventually, and flies (nasty flies) come to honey.

After a few sips of coffee (sweet, just the way she liked it), she looked back at the man, who was still sitting with his hands on his legs.

"You're not talking to me now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow "Will you be here until I finish eating?"

The Grabber sighed and sat up.

"I have things to do" it almost sounded like an excuse "You know, I read the paper today, and they're still not talking about you. Seems odd to me. I guess they didn't expect something like this to happen."

Violet looked down at the floor, listlessly. No, of course not, it would be a few more days before they would accept that something had happened to her, that a girl was the new missing person in town.

"What's your name?"

That question puzzled her. The Grabber had come almost level with the door and was looking at her (or so she supposed, it was impossible for him not to) with his head cocked slightly to one side. She blinked and took another sip of coffee before answering:

"Why, does it matter a lot?"

"I'm curious... I've read every single name of... well, in the paper, but I might not be able to learn yours anytime soon so..."

And what was the point of lying to him? That wasn't going to save her anyway, her salvation would have to be sought some other way.

"Violet" she realized she was having trouble saying something so simple. Violet... surely she wasn't the only one with that name in town, but there was something special about her, something twisted, that made it ominous. On the other hand, the Grabber nodded slowly a couple of times.

"Violet..." he repeated in a deep voice, the young girl felt shivers at hearing her name from those lips "Roses are red, violets are blue..."

He turned around.

"What is your name?" she jumped suddenly. She noticed him freeze, one foot on a step, and slowly turn his neck.

"My name?" he whispered "What do you want to know for?"

"Well...you already know mine, and I don't think you want me to call you Mr. Grabber" Violet replied.

It was a bold move, and a very dangerous one besides, she could arouse his anger for wanting to pry into something so intimate, so she waited, pretending that fear didn't grip her muscles.

The Grabber let out a snort, or maybe a chuckle, put a hand to his head, at the level of his mask, and for a moment Violet swore he was about to take it off. Then he seemed to change his mind and lowered his hand.

"Call me whatever you want," he said at last, uncomfortably, resuming his walk.

"Wait!... Please" Violet didn't expect her request to be heard, but the Grabber didn't take another step "How about... I guess? Your name, I mean"

Silence again.

"Guess?" the man asked.

"Yes, as a game."

She used the word directly, seeking to catch his attention. That's what the little boy on the bike had said, and she needed to corroborate his advice. To her surprise, the Grabber turned to face her.

"So what happens if you guess?"

It was best to start small, for safety's sake. She looked at the plate and the little pieces of egg still on it.

"If I can guess it, you'll give me something more to eat than just scrambled egg" she replied "But... you have to give me a clue, something to start with, no cheating, and I'll have three tries to guess it."

"And if you don't succeed?"

"I'll never complain about the food again."

She suspected, from the silence that followed, that the monster was thinking over her proposal.

"You'll have only two tries."

"It's always three."

"But I say no."

Violet pursed her lips, frustrated. It was better not to argue.

"Okay...what about the clue?"

She imagined the Grabber would tell her some obscure thing, maybe that his name meant such-and-such or that it started with a certain letter and ended with another. But then...

"Al" he blurted out "Al is my name."

Violet felt surprised. There weren't many names that started like that, she thought, maybe she could try her luck.

"Al... All right, give me a moment to think about it..."

"Forget it. I won't play now. I told you I have things to do. Later..." he added, almost apologetically, and closed the door.

The time underground was not at all clear, the only natural light came from a small window, too high to reach, so Violet was content to walk aimlessly. She reached the small three-walled square that occupied the bathroom (it was really just the toilet, and next to it, three or four rolled-up rugs that she didn't even want to touch) and removed the lid of the tank to drink water and, incidentally, wipe her face. She hissed when the cold water touched her nose, it had started to heal but still hurt at the slightest touch, and as for her ankle... at least she could walk a few steps without feeling like she was going to really break it.

She didn't know how many hours or minutes she spent, huddled in the small hallway that connected the bathroom to the rest of the basement, her head saturated. She thought about the Grabber's name, she had shuffled a good amount and had to rule them out somehow because she only had two guesses (Alexander? Alfred? Alvin?), she thought about her next step, prolong her life... escape from there as fast as possible and then... what? Going to the police was the most logical thing to do, but....

Pigs. That's what they were, vile pigs. Vance was right to call them that, and in worse ways that only they shared, safe from the stares of the very decent and very imbecilic citizens, sitting on the metal stairs where they began to be friends almost a year ago.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing....

Violet hurriedly sat up, hopping as she put too much pressure on her right foot, and unhooked the speaker, anxious.

"Vance?" she asked "Anyone?"

Static was the first thing she heard, and then that awful beeping sound accompanied by....

Sirens. As a child, she'd asked her mother why they called the flashing alarms on service cars sirens, and her mother had replied that it was probably because they screamed. But sirens sang, Violet reasoned, and they were beautiful beings, ladies of the sea who bewitched sailors with their beautiful voices and called them to their doom.

It seemed to her that the air grew thicker as she ran, the backpack banging against her ribs but she didn't care, she called out, frightened, as two men (damned cowards) in uniform bundled her mother into the patrol car. For a moment, Mrs. Gilles raised her head, hearing her daughter's screams, but the authority had no time for mercy. Violet practically collided with the patrol car as it was starting its march, banged on the windows, tried to open the door, would go with her mother no matter the destination, and the car did not stop. She could have been run over, she would think later as she cried, sitting on the lawn, accompanied by some officers and a detective who made sure her house was turned upside down.

The townspeople turned their backs on her, even when they smiled and spoke to her with a certain normality, she knew it was a mask, that of the supposed justice and consideration, the love of neighbor that they all swore to respect while Violet was cornered in the school bathrooms, insulted, humiliated, hurt in so many ways that, when she managed to stand up and look those sons of good Christians in the eye, she knew there would be nothing on Earth that could make her bleed ever again.

Opening her eyes, Violet noticed the speaker hanging, silent, near her. She gave a yawn and sat up. It was already dark, and fortunately she found no sign of the Grabber anywhere, except for... was it her imagination or was the door not locked properly?

Her heart skipped a beat. The little boy on the bicycle was right: the game had begun.

She wasn't going to take any unnecessary risks, her foot was not yet strong enough to run, and on top of that, she was barefoot, but surveying the field seemed reasonable to her. With her heart hammering in her ears, she approached the door and rested her hands on the edge, holding her breath. She opened as slowly as she could, nervous that the slightest noise would scupper her plans, and left just enough room to squeeze through.

She encountered, first, some simple wooden stairs that twisted to the left, giving her a good idea of the depth of the basement. She rested her healthy foot on one of the steps, squeezing it to make sure it didn't make too much noise, and for sheer safety she advanced on all fours, with her body as close as possible to one of the walls and all senses attentive, at the slightest noise she would return downstairs and pretend that raid never happened.

She stopped before the turn, and there, pressing herself against the wall, she stuck her head out. There was light upstairs, and she imagined that it was not yet bedtime for the hideous inhabitant of the house, and with squinting eyes she strained to get a glimpse of what was there.

Mrs. Betsy's house had no basement, having closed it shortly after her husband's death, but Violet knew from experience that most basements were connected to the kitchen, and this one was no exception. The first thing that caught her eye was the dishwasher, built as usual in front of a small window (could she open it and get out? Impossible, she'd knock over a couple of dishes as soon as she got in), a dingy old toaster next to a nearly empty spice rack and... a wooden knife rack, slightly tilted, where about five handles stood out.

Her mind began to race, she could grab a knife, go back to the basement, hide it under the mattress and, the next time the Grabber approached... But it was possible that would be counterproductive, and she craned her neck to get a better look.

Then Violet had to stifle a scream and recoil, trembling, because the next thing she saw was a chair and, sitting in it, the Grabber. She waited several seconds, almost without breathing, waiting to hear something that would corroborate that he had seen her, but time passed and nothing happened, so, in spite of the anguish, Violet looked out again. The man was still in exactly the same position, head slightly cocked to one side, legs extended, a belt resting on one of his thighs, near his hand. A faint snore told her he was sleeping.

She climbed a couple more steps, her eyes fixed on the figure on the chair. As usual, he was wearing his mask, but now the face was not smiling, instead a stern, almost angry expression occupied the lower half.

Violet took a few seconds to examine him for the first time, and moved up a little further until her body was peeking over the edge of a second wide-open door. She estimated that, standing upright, the man was about a head taller than she was; his hair must have been, a few years ago, a very deep coppery blond, but now some gray adorned that curtain that fell over his shoulders; his hands were what she knew best, with three rings decorating his fingers without her knowing why, and as for the rest of his body.... the gloomy light of the kitchen didn't help her much, but she noticed that he was wearing an old sweater and nothing else, leaving his torso naked and half uncovered under the garment.

The girl felt troubled, she had lived with all the restrictions applied to a proper lady, and that was so reinforced after moving in with her grandmother that even certain programs and movies were forbidden, and she had never, not even at liberal Alice's house, seen any man's naked body. Even that brief glimpse seemed too much for her, besides, that image was intimidating in many ways, perhaps because of the unnatural posture in which the Grabber slept, attentive to his little prey, perhaps because of the belt resting next to him, perhaps because it made Violet more aware of how small and vulnerable she was.

Her feet were planted on the kitchen floor, her chest rising and falling in rhythmic, silent breathing, horrified but unable to look away. She had to get away and she knew it, she had to get out of that hell, but she was terrified of having to walk past him, to make the slightest noise, good girls respect the sacred time of sleep.

Outside, there was a commotion: the roar of an engine followed by the uproarious giggles of who knows what rakish kids was enough for something else to happen. Suddenly, a series of frightening barks engulfed the house, and Violet witnessed the exact moment when the Grabber stood up, and knew that his eyes were fixed on her.

No one had time to listen to her pleas, so she learned to force them to listen to her anger.

The Grabber advanced slowly toward Violet, menacingly, his free hand ripped off the top of the mask, revealing half of his contorted face in a triumphant expression. The girl's hands clutched at the crack in the door, it was a losing battle beforehand, but she was not going to let herself be subdued so easily, this was a test only. Surviving that night was the only goal.

"How dare you come out?" exclaimed the man, raising his arm ready to strike the first blow. Violet timed her movements well, and stepped aside just in time for her rival to stumble into the stairwell. Then she hurried to reach the sink, and fumbled for a plate which she put in front of her as a shield, for the Grabber was already approaching again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked her, confused and angry "Put that back!"

Violet didn't obey, her hand was shaking but she didn't let go of the plate, the man repeated his order:

"Put that down immediately!"

Her hand opened, and the plate crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. How she hated the sound of something shattering, but when she closed her eyes, knowing what was coming, a new emotion filled her chest: relief, a relief she hadn't felt in years, so intense that she almost didn't care when the Grabber let out an angry roar and, stepping over the remains of the plate, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her almost crawling down the stairs.

"You're a vermin!" he shouted at her, furious, shoving her down the steps. Violet gritted her teeth to keep from making a sound as she noticed her bad foot half twist, sending her tumbling almost face-first back into the basement. Instinctively, she crawled on all fours straight to the mattress, with the man's footsteps going after her "You broke that plate on purpose, and you also got out of here without permission!"

The belt cut through the air, and the first blow caught Violet in a thigh. Her scream was more from surprise than pain, and she continued on her way even though the blow made her skin burn. Enraged, the Grabber went to her and pinned her down by holding her by the back of the neck, pushing her until her face was against the mattress, forcing the girl to move faster so as not to hurt her nose any more.

"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" the Grabber snapped next to her left ear "Did you think you were going to get away with that?" he didn't give her time to answer, because the belt went straight to Violet's ass, with such force that despite her decision not to complain, the girl let out a low moan. "Come on, naughty girl, say something!"

The third blow caught her in the back, and she knew instinctively that the leather had just cut into her skin. She remembered the words of the boy on the bike, and knew then that he wasn't overreacting, the monster would rip her to shreds, gloating in her pain and blood. And she wasn't going to give him that, no matter what.

"Stop!" she exclaimed, and a fourth blow made her jump "Stop now...Albert!"

She said it almost without thinking, one of the names she'd been shuffling through the afternoon. She took advantage of the hand on the back of her neck being pulled away to lift her head slightly, gasping at the sensation of her open flesh. She imagined the Grabber was taking his time choosing the ideal spot to continue whipping her, but all she heard was heavy breathing, and the tinkling of a buckle that never quite touched her.

She dared to turn her head, and found that the man seemed beside himself, paralyzed, the hand holding the belt shaking uncontrollably.

"What did you call me?" he whispered. Violet remained crouched, enduring the twinges of pain in her back "Say that again!"

"Albert" she replied, with a feeling that this would not turn into another string of belting. The man's hand loosened slightly and the buckle hit the ground, resembling a snake or, perhaps, a whip, which gave the girl a bad feeling and she averted her gaze to the object.

Then, the Grabber turned around, reached the door and, from it, said to her with a broken voice:

"Go to sleep... Violet"

#the black phone #the black phone fanfiction #the grabber #the grabber x oc #the grabber fanfiction #fanfiction #ethan hawke #blumhouse

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nomunamuinmybrain · 4 years

Text

Bitter 6

Finally! It took me so long to get it together and finish this chapter. A lot has happened in my life since I last posted but most importantly I graduated from university. Now that I have all the time in the world I want to give all my attention to writing. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope you are all safe and healthy given the situation with the pandemic.

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Summary: Sometimes our thoughts get the best of us. Sometimes depression gets the best of all of us. Too oblivious to realize that we are surrounded with love. This is a story about learning to receive love, learning that you deserve love. A fun group of friends and their lives as they gradually change and grow. Sometimes bitter other times sweet much like chocolate such is life.

FLUFF WITH A SPRINKLE (or so) of smut/Slow pace

words: 1.7k

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Chapter 6

A knot forming in my belly, the sensation stretching to my heated mound forcing my thighs to rub in frustration. My hand slithers from my aching breasts to my slit, I can’t believe how wet I got just thinking about him. Next thing I know, the other side of the bed sinks under his weight as he makes his way over me. I am not sure how he got here but I don’t care. I can feel his scent, heavy and sweet, making me dizzy. His hands take over from mine, teasing and touching me. I want him to taste me everywhere. Devour every inch of my being with his sinful mouth, marking me as his. It’s as if he is in my head, knowing my every thought, every desire. My hands pinned above me held by his hand.

No longer thinking reasons to resist this, I completely surrender to his touch. My back arches wanting even more, he is everywhere, I breathe him in and in my utterly intoxicated state that’s when I hear it, beeping loud in my ears, my alarm clock. I knew this seemed too good to be a fragment of reality. Grunting noises escape me while I roll around trying to mute the source. The boys must have gotten up earlier or maybe they left the room right after I fell asleep, making sure I get some rest since they know how stressed I was about this whole coffee meet cute and that’s when I felt it. A strange flutter in my lower belly, a tingling but it was nothing of anxiety, it was pure excitement. I jump off the bed to get ready and after a much appreciated pep talk from the guys I was already out the door and on my way to the coffee shop. Namjoon was sweet enough to text me good morning and ask for my order beforehand. We lock eyes as I am crossing the street and I am positive his smile is outshining the sun, thankfully I did not faint in the middle of the street. Deep breath.

“Here you go. Iced latte, medium, double shot espresso with soy milk and one pump of caramel.”

“Sorry for making you memorize the whole thing. I’m a bit particular with what I like. Especially coffee.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, I’m no better. Iced Americano, blonde roast, extra ice, extra shot with foam.”

“Are we sure the barista didn’t spit in these cause I think I would if I had to make this order.” My silly remark made him laugh and the flutter in my belly grew stronger.

We started walking, heading towards the park. Conversation with him was smooth, effortless, he seemed to be as invested as I was which was refreshing cause for once I felt like I wasn’t blabbering someone to boredom and every time I took my turn to say anything he would look at me. He gingerly brushed his fingers against mine, weaving them with mine, brushing his thumb softly. I guess for the first time I felt interesting to someone other than Hoseok and Tae. There was nothing we didn’t touch on, from family stuff to career and childhood and lost dreams, there wasn’t a topic off the table. When we got to the unavoidable point of discussing relationships and experiences of that kind I tensed up a bit and unfortunately he picked up on that.

“It’s okay if this is too much for you, we don’t have to…”

“No, it’s fine. It’s better to be upfront with things like this.”

“I agree. Took me a while to come to terms with confronting people and situations.”

“Well, I’m in the same boat you know. I don’t have much experience with dating and I’ve never even been in a relationship. My insecurities plus my anxiety and depression haven’t, how should I put this, they didn’t leave any space for that stuff. Working on my relationship with myself and my mental health seemed more important. Also I never wanted to burden anyone with my issues, it wouldn’t be fair. Society has us believing that through another person we can finally feel whole but, well, it’s nothing but a sugar coated pill. Building a strong and healthy relationship with yourself is a blessing on the long run. To the eyes of others it might seem like I’m behind on that stuff but it doesn’t faze me as much anymore.”

“For the record you are not behind on anything, that’s bullshit. You made your wellbeing a priority and that is admirable to say the least. My last relationship has left me with so much trauma it left me frozen, unable to put myself out there to meet someone else. I wouldn’t even have approached you if it wasn’t for my friends pushing me, I feared that I was damaged goods, sort to say.”

I halt my step, turned to look at him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not. I hope you know that you’re not.”

“I know. Now, I know.” His hand cupped my check and I could feel the redness spread as I leaned into his caress. “I hope you know that too.” he continued.

He leaned in, his breath fanning warmth against me, he looked in my eyes, my lips and then back into my eyes, longingly. His plump lips parted letting out a sigh. “I- I really want to kiss you.”

I drew in a sharp breath and answered in a small voice. “Me too.”

His kiss was deep, intoxicating and somewhat controlled cause let’s face it we we’re in the middle of a park. A satisfying grunt escaped me and he did something that I can only describe as a low growl, it was sexy and I could feel the tingling intensify. With both hands on my face, his thumbs tracing patterns on my cheeks, he withdrew his plush lips to lovingly nudge my nose with his.

“I’m so glad we can be together in this moment. Wait, no, that sounds weird. What I meant, what I’m trying to say…”

I take the lead to put him out of his misery. He looked adorable fumbling for the right words.

“Namjoon relax. I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”

The rest of the walk we joked around and I honestly haven’t let go with another person so soon, he has a way, a warmth that just makes me feel comfortable and most definitely desired and appreciated. Before we parted we set another date for Sunday at the movies and for the first time in forever I felt excited for something. Once we got to my building we kissed one more time and even though I told him to go he waited to see me go up which I wouldn’t have done given the situation I had to witness. The door was open and the apartment was full of people. Squeezing my way in I browse for Hobi and once I spot him in the kitchen I make my way to him and grab him from the arm.

“What’s all this?!”

“We are pregaming before we get to Jungkookie’s party. It’s a last minute situation and I offered to help. You do remember we have Jungkook’s thing today, right?”

“It’s 15:46! And yes, I do remember. Isn’t it a little early for pregaming anyway?”

“Um, not when you have a bunch of art hippies. It’s called a brunch pregame or something like that, who cares. Pancake?” he stuffed it in my mouth before I had a chance to answer. Tae jumped and hugged me from behind, most definitely tipsy, playing with my curls.

“How was coffee with dream man Kim Namjoon?” he asked

“She’ll tell us later when we are not in a sea of strangers.”

“In a word, perfect. I’ll head to my room and get ready.”

In the sanctuary of my room I drop my phone on the desk and head to the shower. A much needed scorching hot shower later and with the date replaying in my head, I sit on my desk to do my makeup. It’s already 19:40 by the time I’m finished and the noise has died down assumingly because everyone has left. I wasn’t all that excited about being among people tonight but I would never skip any of Jungkook and Andy’s parties. I think it’s a new sold out show that we’re celebrating but who cares really it’s just going to end up crazy. Jungkook notoriety for making each meetup an unforgettable event is unbeatable. After last time’s paint war debacle I opted for jeans to be as comfortable as possible.

Half an hour later we’re already parked outside of Jungkook’s house and then Hobi locks us in. Tae was the first one to give him the stank eye and question the sanity of his action.

“What the hell?”

“Tae, I am not gonna make the party if y/n over here doesn’t give us the details of this mornings event. I might actually eat my own hand.”

“Okay, okay, but I’ll fast forward a bit because I don’t want to drag this on. I had a wonderful time with him, he is so sweet and considerate, we talked about everything and anything. Also, we kissed and I cannot wait to go on another date.”

Hobi and Tae couldn’t hide their happiness, so prominent in their expression. They both jumped me to give me the tightest hug possible.

“Baby girl we’re so happy for you.”

“Let’s break this up now and get going Jungkook is waving from the door.”

We get to the door, Jungkook waiting for us, arms open, cigar hanging from his mouth.

“You’re into smoking now?” Tae asked

Much to our surprise he bit down to reveal the molten caramel center. Of course its made of chocolate, he’s a candy nut. We’re all ushered inside, everyone’s scattered here and there in the large common area having conversation over the latest pieces acquired in his personal collection. Among new faces and a few familiar ones I spot a face my memory could never erase, he looks up at the same time, eyes locking with mine and shoots me a wink.

My old crush.

The ever so charming, Kim Seokjin.

#bts #btsfic #bts fanfction #bts college au #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #seokjin #bts seokjin #bts hoseok #taehyung #jungkook #thekimlinenet #hyunglinenetwork

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emospritelet · 4 years

Text

Desperation - chapter 13

22: “I just don’t know what to do”

Apparently all I can write at the moment are short fluffy chapters *shrug emoji*

[AO3]

Gold seemed to improve markedly over the next few days, although he still coughed at times and seemed to tire in the evenings. Belle soon got used to meeting him each morning in the kitchen, where he would have a pot of tea brewing as he kneaded dough or mixed pancake batter. He had offered to trade places with her and give her his bed, but she refused; the couch was very comfortable, and she didn’t feel right making him sleep there when he was used to his own bed.

Now that he was feeling better, Gold never seemed to be still for long. He was always cooking or cleaning, moving quickly around the small house to keep it clean and neat and free of clutter. Belle helped, folding laundry and offering to wash dishes after dinner while he mopped the floor.

“You guys make a good team,” said Bae, from the table, eating a banana. Gold eyed him.

“Having Belle here doesn’t mean you get out of chores, you know,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Belle hastily. “I’d rather keep busy.”

“I just meant having Belle here is a good thing,” said Bae. “I couldn’t have looked after you when you were sick. Not like she could. I can’t work the stove, so I couldn’t bake you carrot cake like she can.”

“You helped with that,” Belle reminded him. “I couldn’t have done it without you. We’re like a sugar-loaded tag-team.”

Bae giggled, and Gold sent Belle a grin, his eyes twinkling.

“I just meant I can’t take care of you on my own, Papa,” Bae went on. “I just don’t know what to do. Don’t get sick again until I’m maybe - twelve - or something.”

Gold chuckled, working the mop in between the chair legs.

“I’ll try not to.”

“Or tell Belle she can stay with us,” added Bae, and Gold’s eyes flicked across at Belle.

“I’m sure Belle’s looking forward to getting back to her own place and having a bit of peace,” he remarked.

“But I want her to meet the kittens!” said Bae. “How will they get to know her if she doesn’t come over?”

“Oh, of course I’ll come over!” Belle assured him. “Have you chosen names for the kittens yet?”

Bae wrinkled his nose.

“No. I think I want to hold them first, see what they feel like.”

“That makes sense.”

“We can make arrangements to pick them up from Mrs Nolan just as soon as lockdown ends,” said Gold, shoving the mop back into its bucket of water and swirling it around. “Speaking of, you’d better make sure you’re ready for class tomorrow. No mad panic at the last minute because you can’t find your books, okay?”

“We’re starting a project on dinosaurs!” announced Bae, and slipped from the table, putting his banana skin in the trash and hurrying upstairs with thundering feet.

The following morning Belle woke a little later than usual, and found Bae at the kitchen table furiously scribbling in advance of his first class of the day. She gave him some help where she could, although he turned out to be far better at identifying dinosaur species than she was. She listened attentively as he told her of the asteroid that had fallen, and the chaos that had followed. The reptile species that had disappeared, allowing mammals to thrive.

As Bae was finishing up, Belle went to put on the kettle for some tea. She wasn’t especially hungry, so she wandered out to the rear garden, where she found Gold on his knees in the vegetable patch, pulling out weeds with quick, practised tugs. He glanced up as she approached, shaking his hair back.

“Decided to work in the garden today, huh?�� she observed, and he shrugged, glancing around.

“If we want fresh vegetables this summer, I really need to keep this place tidy,” he said. “You and Bae were doing a good job with it, though, Far less to do than I expected.”

“He had to show me which plants were weeds,” confessed Belle. “I’d probably have pulled up all the onions, left to myself.”

Gold grinned.

“Yeah, it can take a little getting used to, but you learn to recognise what should be there and what should go,” he said, sitting back on his heels and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Where’s Bae? I thought I heard the two of you talking.”

“We were doing the homework he should have done last night,” said Belle, in a dry tone, and Gold shook his head with a grin.

“If he thinks he can pull the wool over Mary Margaret’s eyes, he’s mistaken,” he said. “She’ll know if he’s half-arsed the thing.”

“I gave him a hand,” she said. “I think he’ll pass muster, he seems to know his stuff. He’s really looking forward to the dinosaur project.”

“Good.” He tugged at some more weeds, plucking them out and tossing them aside. “I didn’t want to disturb you this morning. You looked to be very comfortable on the couch when I put my head around the door. I can make us some tea as soon as I’m done here.”

“It’s okay, I’ll do it,” she said. “Can’t believe I slept in. If seven a.m. is sleeping in. I guess it is now. You must have been up with the dawn.”

“I’ve always been an early riser,” he said. “I like the early mornings. It’s quiet. Contemplative. At least until Bae gets up.”

“Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I kind of like it in winter, when it’s still dark and maybe it’s raining, and you sit with a cup of tea waiting for the sun to rise, and it feels like you’re the only one who’s awake.”

“Little chance of that with an eight-year-old, but I know what you mean.”

“Oh, wait until he’s a teenager,” she said, waving a hand. “You won’t be able to get him out of bed then.”

Gold chuckled.

“I suspect you’re right about that,” he said. “Do you run your library classes for teenagers, too?”

“All ages,” she said. “Book clubs, study sessions, research… I’m looking forward to getting started when I can open the place up again.”

“Maybe I’ll get a library card,” he said. “Join one of your book clubs.”

“You’d be very welcome,” she said, and he smiled, turning back to the weeds.

“I’d better get on with this, give Bae some breakfast before school starts,” he said. “I want to start getting those beans in today.”

Belle got on her knees beside him, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“It’ll go quicker with two,” she suggested, and he gave her a wide, warm grin.

Gold cooked that evening, a hearty stew of spicy sausage with lentils, tomatoes and onions, served up with mounds of fluffy mashed potato and steamed kale slick with butter. It was hot and savoury, but Belle found to her dismay that she had lost her appetite. Her head was throbbing a little, a dull, insistent pounding that made her feel a little nauseous, and she pushed a piece of sausage around her plate, watching the path it cut through the thick, russet-coloured liquid.

“Are you alright?”

Gold’s voice made her look up, meeting brown eyes filled with concern. She smiled.

“Not feeling all that great,” she admitted. “Maybe all those early starts are catching up with me.”

He eyed her for a moment, and nodded.

“Go and rest,” he said. “Bae and I will clean up, and I’ll bring you some tea later. Go on, lie down and take a nap.”

“Actually that sounds like a good idea.” Belle put down her fork, pushing back from the table. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“I hope you’re not sick,” said Bae worriedly, and she smiled, patting his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just tired. I’ll take a nap and be right as rain.”

She pushed up from the table, heading to the door on legs that wobbled a little and trying to shove away the fearful thoughts that were insisting that she was next, that she was sick. She squared her jaw, grasping the handle of the lounge door and pushing it open and heading for her bed on the couch. Rum and Bae had recovered. They were fine. She would be, too.

Something was clicking.

Belle was warm and comfortable, eyes closed and the now-familiar scents of wool and orange oil tickling her nose. The clicking noise was still there, a pattering sound which she had first mistaken for raindrops. She opened her eyes, to find the room gently bathed in the golden glow of the corner lamps, the curtains drawn against the night, and Gold in the squashy armchair across from her, knitting.

She watched, fascinated, as his nimble fingers wielded the needles, catching and winding wool to make the stitches, a long length of deep blue forming between his legs. He was concentrating on his task, and she let her eyes roam a little, following the line of his nose and sweeping along his cheekbones to where his hair was turning silver above his slightly pointed ears. Light made shadows in the collar of his shirt, and where his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, his tanned forearms slender and sinewy.

“How are you feeling?”

His voice, though quiet, still made her start, and she flicked her eyes up to meet his.

“Uh…” How was she feeling? “Okay, I guess.”

Gold began counting his stitches with quick flicks of a thumbnail.

“Coughing?” he asked. “Any tightness in your chest?”

“No.” Belle pushed upright, swinging her legs around and letting the blanket drop as she ran her hands over her face. “I feel okay.”

“Headaches?”

“I had one earlier,” she admitted. “It seems to have gone. What time is it?”

“Almost nine-thirty,” he said. “I was going to make some tea.”

“Yes please.” She yawned. “Can’t believe I slept all that time.”

“Hmm.” He put down his knitting and sat forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees and giving her a firm look. “I want you to listen to me, okay? It’s highly possible that you’re about to become as sick as Bae and I have been. So I want you to take my bed tonight.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that…”

“Yes, there is,” he insisted. “You were kind enough to come here and take care of us, and I made you sick. I feel - I feel just awful about it, Belle, really.”

“I feel okay now!”

“But you might not tomorrow,” he said quietly, and his eyebrows raised upward, a desperate, pleading expression. “It’s the least I can do. Please, Belle. I put clean sheets on. It’s all ready for you.”

She sighed, giving him a weary, if fond look.

“You sure you’re ready to sleep on the couch?” she said, and he shrugged, a faint grin on his face.

“It’s not like it’d be the first time.”

Shaking her head in pretended exasperation, Belle pushed to her feet. She still felt a little unsteady, but perhaps more sleep was all she needed. There was no sign of any coughing, and she didn’t have a fever.

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll have some tea, and I’ll sleep in your bed. But only to make you feel better, okay? And if I wake up tomorrow and I’m not sick, you get your bed back.”

Gold’s grin widened.

“Deal.”

#fic: desperation #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic #sprite's pandemic promptathon #joylee56

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darkanima2345 · 4 years

Text

A continuation. It gets quite dark at the end, you've been warned. I thought I posted this on Tumblr ages ago, clearly I was wrong! Enjoy!

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

They spent the rest of the day outside, eating, drinking, recounting tales from the previous world, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company.

“Do you remember the first time Sazh tried to mount a chocobo on Pulse? He jumped up onto its back head first, slid straight off the other side and right into a mound of behemoth droppings!” Lightning, currently doubled over in laughter, remembered it well. She had learned several dozen new expletives that day from Sazh, and distinctly remembered Vanille laughing so hard that she had to hold herself up on Fang, who was herself laughing so hard that she was using her staff to keep herself upright. Snow was on his knees, mouth open in silent laughter, and Hope was beet red, getting redder at the ever lengthening string of expletives coming out of Sazh’s dropping covered mouth.

Lightning and Hope spent a good 5 minutes laughing at that particular memory. Just when one of them was starting to calm down, they would look at the other and burst into laughter all over again.

Wiping his eyes, Hope finally managed to calm down. “Would you like another drink Light?” he said, getting up and stretching. Lightning looked over to the formally full, now empty, bottle of champagne sat on the table.

“Just a glass of water please.” Hope nodded, taking the tray that had contained their snacks back into the kitchen. Lightning looked out to the mountains; twilight has descended and Hope was correct, the view was even more magnificent at sunset.

“Here you are Light.” A glass appeared in front of her, brimming with water and a slice of lemon on its rim.

“Thank you.” She gave him one of his exclusive smiles. They spent the rest of the evening in comfortable silence, watching the sun fall over the horizon.

Lightning shivered. Hope’s jacket appeared over her shoulders without her even noticing him moving.

“If you’re cold Light, let’s go inside. Your not near immortal anymore” He offered her a hand, one which she took and he pulled her up with remarkable strength and into his arms.

“When did you get so strong?”

“When I got my adult body back,” he said sticking his tongue out at her. She smiled at him, blushing ever so slightly. You’ve smiled more today than the past year combined. I woooonder what’s different!? Lightning really needed to find a way to shut Lumina out.

They made there way inside; Hope lit a fire while Lightning made hot chocolate.

They continued talking well into the night about their lives in the new world; Hope being a Professor of Physics and Lightning being a doctor.

“A doctor!? No offense Light, but I don’t really see you being a doctor.”

“None taken. I’d always wanted to be a doctor, even in the old world. But when my parents passed, I had to look after Serah. The guardian corps was good money and I was the right age. I couldn’t afford to study medicine.” Hope had his brow furrowed and was deep in thought.

“I suppose that would explain why you specialized as a medic when we first became l'cie. I always found that odd.” Lightning raised a brow.

“What’s so odd about it?”

“Well when I first met you, I would have thought that the sabatour role would have been your thing. But your passion for healing must have been reflected in your affinity for the medic role.”

“Hmm maybe. Anyway, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Well a farmers market is on every week. It’s about a mile down the road and it’s a very pleasant walk. Fancy it?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“We can also pick up some steak. Because as I recall, a certain someone promised me a home cooked meal, even if that meal is grilled steak.”

“Oh yeah. I did promise you that didn’t I?” Hope nodded.

“And I am very much looking forward to it. Its getting quite late,” he said glancing at his wrist watch. “I’m going to head to bed Light. If you want to stay up there’s a collection of books over there that you ma-"

“I’m tired myself Hope. I’ll be heading to bed too.” He nodded, holding his arm out in invitation for her to take the lead.

They arrived at the guest room, with Hope’s room being further down the corridor. Lightning opened the door and turned to face Hope.

“Thank you for letting me stay here Hope.”

“No problem Light.” He pulled her into a hug, which Lightning reciprocated. When Hope broke the hug and went to his room, Lightning felt a profound sense of lost.

Getting into bed, Lightning sank into the memory foam mattress and feather down pillows. She could feel sleep washing over her. She let sleep take her while she stared at the box containing Odin’s crystal.

Lightning found herself in a familiar place; chaos swirled round the throne of the goddess upon which sat Lumina head resting on her palm.

“Well hello there Miss Savior.”

“I’m not the Savior anymore Lumina.”

“Oh yeah, right. Shall I call you Mrs Estheim them?” Lumina wiggled her eyebrows.

“Wha- No I- What do you mean!?”

“Oh come on! You sooooo have the hots for him!”

“I think you are the one with the ‘hots' for Hope.”

“Yes, but I’m part of you. So therefore you have the hots for Hope.” Lightning growled in annoyance. It was like arguing with a little kid.

“What are you doing here Lumina? I thought we merged.”

“We have done. Yet I’m still around. Your mind hasn’t accepted me yet I think. You are still clinging hard onto the ‘Lightning' persona. You need to truly become Claire.”

“So if I accept you then you’ll disappear and leave me alone?”

“Yes, but that is easier said than do-. Hmm?” Lumina tilted her head, as if trying to listen for something. “I think it’s time for you to wake up, woman-who-was-going-to-be-a-goddess-but-changed-her-mind.”

“No. We haven’t finished talking.”

“You’re right, we haven’t. But Hope needs you.” For the first time that Lightning could remember, Lumina sounded serious. Chaos condensed around the throne, obscuring all from Lightning's vision.

Lightning eyes flew open when she heard a man screaming. She jumped out of bed and opened her door, heading to the source of the screaming: Hope’s room.

Lightning barged into the room, Hope’s screams echoing throughout the cottage. She ran up to the thrashing man, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him as hard as she could.

“Hope! Hope! Wake up!”

Hope’s eyes flew open, and for a split second, Lightning saw piercing green eyes in place of Hope's calming green. He blinked twice and his soft green eyes returned, filled with tears.

“Hope are you okay?” He was trembling, shaking in her grasp.

“So- So- Sorry Light. Just a really bad nightmare that’s all. I- I- I’m alright.” He smiled but it did not reach his eyes. Lightning saw so many emotions in his eyes; longing, fear, hate, pain, love, and anger. She wouldn’t leave him like this.

“Tell me about it,” she said climbing into his bed next to him, reaching for his head and moving it to her shoulder.

“What?”

“The dream, Hope. Tell me about it .” She ran her thumb over his knuckles.

“It was Bhunivelze.” Lightning’s breath hitched. Images came flooding into her mind; a boy held by strings of light, a huge finger snapping the boys neck, and his body being crushed into dust. Lightning shook her head in an attempt to dispel the images.

“What was he doing?”

“He tried to take me Light. He tried to make me his,” his voice was very close to breaking. Lightning could feel her chest constricting; she hated seeing Hope in so much pain. But how can she help? Hope is a scientist! Use that! Use logic! Lightning silently thanked Lumina for her advice.

“Hope, I’m going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer them.” She moved her hand from his knuckles and began to stroke his hair. He swallowed, trying to hide a sob.

“Okay.”

“Where is Bhunivelze right now? Where did we leave him?”

“In the new unseen realm. He was trapped in crystal.” Lightning nodded.

“Indeed he was. Who else is in the unseen realm?”

“The Yeuls. They became the new goddess of death in your place.” Lightning was sure she heard a ‘thank goodness’ whispered at the end of that sentence.

“Yes they did. Who is the guardian of the Yeuls?”

“Caius.”

“He is. Who does Caius have to call on, as I did when I was the guardian for Etro? Think about what you saw in the Oracle Drives.”

“The eidolans.”

“Correct. So Bhunivelze has to break out of crystal, get through the new goddesses of death, their guardian, and all of the eidolans. That is not happening.” Lightning felt Hope relax against her. “And even if he does manage all that, he would still have one more thing to get through.” Hope sat up and looked at her.

“What’s that Light?”

“Me. I make you this promise Mr Hope Estheim. As long as I draw breath, Bhunivelze will not take you, nor get anywhere near you. You’re safe as long as I am around.” A tear escaped Hope’s eye.

“Thank you Light.”

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Lightning smiled and went to get up. A hand grasped her arm with substantial force.

“Please Light. Stay here. Just until I fall asleep.” Lightning looked at Hope; his eyes were down and he was clearly still shaken from his nightmare.

“Of course.” She lay down. Hope lay down next to her and she wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.

“I’m so glad to have met you Light.” Nightmares did not trouble Hope Estheim for the rest of the night.

Lightning woke up in Hope’s bed, alone. The smell of bacon and pancakes was in the air. Smiling to herself, she went back to her room, showered and changed. Spending a moment to admire Odin’s crystal, she moved into the main room of the cottage. Sat at the dining table was Hope with a cup of steaming coffee and two plates stacked with bacon and pancakes. Lightning sat across from him. Hope picked up the cup of coffee and passed it to her.

“White, one sugar.”

“How did you know?”

“Serah. There was a small note slipped into the back of the frame of the drawing of Alexander. She also said that your favourite breakfast was bacon and pancakes. Please help yourself.” Lightning’s eyes flashed.

“I’ll kill her. I’ll absolutely kill her.” Hope just chuckled.

“I’m sure her intentions were good. She probably just wanted you to be comfortable.”

“I could have told you all this myself.”

“Its a nice surprise at least.”

“True.” Lightning took a plate and helped herself to bacon and pancakes.

“So anything else in that note I should know about?”

“No. Nothing you should know about.” Lightning did not like the way Hope was smiling.

Lightning and Hope enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, give and taking banter, and after all the food had been devoured they found themselves at the kitchen sink washing up.

“Light, about last night...”

“Don’t worry about it. Just remember my promise okay?” Hope gave her a brilliant smile.

“Thanks Light. The market will be opening soon,” Hope said as he put the last of the washing up away. “Shall we head out?”

“Yeah sure.”

Hope was correct when he said the walk to the market was a pleasant one. Fields of flowers stretched in all directions filling the air with aromas Lightning had never smelled before. The sun beat down on them while they talked about Hope’s research in space-time. Lightning struggled to keep up with some of the technical jargon but she saw the fire in Hope’s eyes when he talked about it. That was a fire she hadn’t seen in him since he was determined to kill Snow after the death of his mother.

Arriving at the farmers market, Lightning was amazed at the number of stalls there where all selling unique items. Flowers, different cuts of meat, ornaments, plants, cakes, and all sorts of desserts. They explored all the stalls eventually arriving at what Hope said was the best butcher at the market. Lightning froze when she saw who was behind the counter; one Alyssa Zaidelle. Lumina screamed. Lightning grabbed Hope and dragged him away from the stall.

“What the hell Hope? You do know who that is right!?” she said jabbing her finger in Hope’s chest.

“Yes. Alyssa. Once my assistant and potential assassin. She doesn’t remember our old life, she doesn’t know who I am or what I did, other than a customer.” Hope met Lightning’s eyes and was shocked to see them welling with tears.

“Do you know what powers Vallhalla gave me Hope?” she said, her voice unsteady. “It allowed me to see all of the timelines, whether they were paradoxes or not. I saw her kill you, so so many times. I saw the light leave your eyes. I saw you take your last breath and there was nothing I could do about it! I couldn’t be there with you!” She punched him in the chest, causing an oomph! to escape his lips. “Please Hope. Please. Don’t have anything to do with her. I can’t see you hurt again. I can’t watch you die again.” To her surprise, Hope pulled her into a hug, gently stroking her hair.

“I’m so sorry Light. I didn’t think. All I have are my own experiences. She failed in the attempt on my life, and that’s the last I ever saw of her. I didn’t realise you saw all those failed timelines. All my- All those other deaths. We will go somewhere else.” Hope released Lightning from the hug, grabbed her hand and guided her to another stall. They picked out two sirloin steaks, accepted the packs, paid the butcher and moved on.

They stopped for lunch at a van for pulled pork sandwiches, which Lightning thoroughly enjoyed. One of the last stalls they visited was a dessert stall. Hope saw Lightning’s eyes sparkle at all of the cakes and puddings. Hope picked out two pieces of succulent chocolate cake to which Lightning nodded in approval. Lightning grabbed the box they were in a little bit too quickly, but Hope just chuckled.

The walk back to Hope’s cottage was mostly silence, each individual lost in their own thoughts. Arriving back at the cottage, they moved through to the kitchen. Hope gave a pan to Lightning, who placed oil in it and rubbed around the base. She placed the pan on the stove and turned it to high. She placed the steaks in and enjoyed the sizzle they made when they came in contact with the metal. Hope passed her a glass of white wine with a smile.

Lightning was crushing garlic when she spoke, “I’m so sorry Hope.”

“For what?” He took a sip from his own glass.

“For what I said at the market. A lot of emotion rushed at once, I couldn’t control it. I don’t know what happened.” For the second time that day, Hope pulled her into a hug, stroking her hair.

“Okay, let me tell you two things. Firstly, you cannot believe how flattered I am that you took time to check on me when you were trapped in Valhalla. You were watching the rear the entire time, and I had my eyes front. Thank you for that, and I’m sorry you had to do it alone. Secondly, if I had to watch you die over and over and over again, I’d have a far worse reaction. You made your promise to me last night so allow me to make you; the same one I made in Palompolom all those years ago. I’ll do my best to look after you.” He released her from the hug and picked up his wine glass . “We are partners after all.”

Hope cut into his garlic encrusted steak. “I doubt Seedy's food was as good as this. I’m glad refused that takeout this is amazing Light.” Lightning blushed.

“Thank you. I think I overcooked the steaks though.”

“Nah its absolutely perfect. As I always knew it would be.” They spent the evening talking and joking and sharing stories about their jobs.

Night eventually fell. Several more glasses of wine accompanied by the chocolate cake went down far to easily. Eventually, after several bouts of yawning they both retreated to their respective rooms.

Lightning climbed into bed and her eyes gradually closed; her last thoughts were a prayer to any deity that was listening that Hope had a peaceful nights sleep...

“Submit to me.”

“No! No I won’t!”

Two familiar voices echoed around the crushing darkness Lightning found herself in. She spun round, trying to find the source of the voices.

“Submit to me.”

“NO! NO I WON’T!”

“If you continue to refuse, then...” Lightning suddenly became aware that she was suspended above the floor, and that she had her eyes shut, “she will pay the price.”

“No. Not her. Please.” Lightning opened her eyes. She was 10 foot in the air , suspended above a kneeling Hope. Looking around, Lightning saw she was being held by strings made of pure light, all of which lead up to a hand belonging to... No! It cant be him. He’s gone, trapped. He cant be back! Bhunivelze can’t be here!

“Submit to me. Or she will suffer. I will do to her what I did to you over those long 169 years.” Lightning tried to speak, but found she had no voice. Lightning tried to struggle, but the strings of light cut into her and spilled her blood.

“No! Please! Please don’t hurt her!”

“I will not hurt her anymore if you submit.”

“No! No! Don't hurt her!”

“I won’t if you SUBMIT!” Lightning was powerless, held in the air like a puppet unable to speak or move. Please Hope, don’t worry about me! Please look after yourself! Please, don’t let him take you again! I’ll be fine!

“I- I-...” Hope looked up, his calm green eyes looking across Lightning’s body where the strings had cut and tore and blood dripped from her. Hope prostrated himself. “Forgive me Light. I’m not strong enough... I can’t see you hurt.” Hope stood up, looking past Lightning towards Bhunivelze. “I submit. Just please let her go. Please allow her to find her happiness. Please let her be happy.” Humourless laughter echoed. A single tear fell from Lightning’s eyes. She fell like a doll, just as the hand of God rose and crushed her in its grasp.

Lightning Farron woke with a start, heart pounding, tears streaming from her eyes. Her clothes and the bed spread were drenched in her sweat and blood, cuts stinging where they stuck to her clothes. She jumped out of bed and flung the door open knocking the vase of roses to the floor, shattering it. Running down the corridor she skidded to a halt when she reached the front door. She turned and saw a familiar figure.

“Truly a beautiful view.” The man stood looking out of the giant window, head cocked to one side. Rain was lashing against the window.

Lightning smiled, Hope was here, he was safe. He was still here, with her. “Although the river should have gone through the mountains, instead of below them, creating a waterfall. That would have been much more pleasing.”

Lightning stepped closer to him heart still pounding, “Hope? Are you okay?” He turned. Piercing green met calming blue. Lightning gasped.

“Bhunivelze...” she whispered. He smiled.

“Hello savior.”

She had broken her promise.

#hoperai #hoperailoveeternal #hopelight

15 notes · View notes

jj-lynn21 · 4 years

Text

Cozy Cove: Spending the nights

warnings: smut, fluff

Saved by an Angel , A side of tits with your pancakes ,Fires Burn Hot , spending the nights , Learning and Loving , The end id not always the end, Axel Grease, Big Decisions, Sex and Jet Skis, Late night fun , Old Wounds , Storms pass, Dangerous Waters

Axel has his arm around Susie's waist as they walk back to his place. The sun is coming up as the bonfire fizzles out. Everyone was walking back to their places taking different routes. As Axel enjoys the sunrise with his girl he notices the two naked bodies on the sand. He hears his brother snort in his sleep, so he knows they are ok,

"I need to get a blanket over my brother and Jen before they get arrested for indecent exposure." He chuckles as he follows Jen up his back porch stairs. He grabs a blanket from the outdoor furniture. "Be right back," He kisses her softly before heading back down the stairs to cover the naked scene. Then he climbs back up the back stairs.

Susie is sitting on the outdoor couch. He walks over and sits next to her. Putting his arm around her Axel leans in close. "Is this ok?" She nods a yes. Axel kisses here as his hand rubs her shoulder. "You have fun tonight?"

"Yeah, Axel." She smiles. "Should we go inside?"

He stands and offers her a hand. She takes it standing to follow him inside. He tosses his motorcycle keys from his pocket in a plate by the sliding glass door. Axel stands there while Susie looks around the room. "Restroom?" She leaned against the couch biting her bottom lip.

"Down the hall on your right." Axel pointed.

They were both a little nervous. A little drunk. Axel didn't want to assume she would want to sleep with him yet. Susie was nervous how her would feel. What he would do next.

While she goes to the restroom Axel grabs an extra pillow and blanket, "Hey, you can take the bed in the back room. I'll crash on the couch."

Axel is setting up his spot when she walks out of the bathroom. She leans one hand against the wall. The other is placed on her hip. When he looks up he sees she is in a soft pink lacy see through bra and panties set. His mouth drops open. "You sure you want to be out here, Axel?" She smiles sweetly.

"Um, I was uh..." Alex's mind stumbles for the right words to say.

"I wouldn't force you to come but I'll be in your bed." She turned to walk back to the bedroom. "And I'm not quite ready to sleep."

Axel followed her, "You are so fucking sexy." He pins her to the wall right before his bed. "But I don't want to take advantage of you. Are you sure you want me tonight?" He nibbles down her neck. His fingers locked in hers on the wall.

Susie can feel his partial hard-on on her thigh. With how he has her held and the way he is sucking at the sweet spot on her neck moisture gathers between her legs, "Maybe,: She takes a breath. "Maybe it isn't you taking advantage but me taking advantage of you?"

He looks at her smirking, "I'm ok with that.." Axel hitched her legs around him. Susie's fingers dove into his hair as soon as he let her hands go to hold her up. She kissed him passionately as he carried her to his bed. He lays her out before him standing to take his mesh tank top and jean off. His boxers ride low on his hips.

Susie watches him in continued excitement. He looms over her. "I wanted to taste your pussy ever since my eyes opened on the beach to see your hair cascading over me."

Her hands run over his bare chest as she stares into his lust filled green eyes. "Go on then Axel." Axel holds himself up with one hand and undoes her front bra clasp. Susie plays with his hair as he sucks on every part of her breasts. He works his way down her sternum. The lower Axel gets the more her breathing quickens. She flexes her stomach muscles as he licks around her belly button. Axel sat up on his knees. Susie watched lifting her hips when he pulled off her panties. He felt excited and nervous as he dipped his head between her legs to kiss her mound before licking her slit.

The way he tasted her so deeply made her pull on his hair. She gasped as Axel's tongue flicked her clit. He heard her. Then he felt the tremble in her legs. Axel grinned continuing to work her up right to the edge. She whimpered as his tongues backed off just for a moment. He looked at her, Her eyes shut tightly as she made the cutest little sound for him. He wondered if anyone else had ever made her feel this way how he was doing.

How Susie looked in his bed right at this moment made him so hard he could barely wait to be inside her. But he finished her first orgasm of the night with just his oral skills.

"Axel," she moaned softly as her eyes flew open. Her juices covering his face as she came.

He pulled his boxers off and put on a condom. He made sure to use his lube liberally for their first time. "How are you doing my Susie Q?"

"I'm.." she tried to focus on him. "That was.."

"That's not even what I do best babe," He kissed her passionately. "Going to make you come again sweet girl. Just relax."

Susie nodded as she spread for him. Her hands clutched the sheets. His head teased her opening before he eased inside. He re-positioned them when he met with resistance. She looked at him with eyes wide as he went in again filling her walk to wall.

He slowly started thrusting. Deepening as he progressed. Her hips slapped into his as she clutched. She moaned softly. he got a perfect rhythm going as he panted. 'Your pussy is so fucking tight around my cock, " He took in a deep breath. "fucking perfect Susie. Your fucking perfect." He groaned,"Oh, damn..."

"Axel, I..." Her eyes blurred. She couldn't speak, but she felt a build up like never before. He got erratic as he fucked her into the mattress. On the verge of his own sweet release. "Oh, fff oh.... I'm ready, come with me sweet girl...Oh FFFUCK!..."

She cried out as she came with him. Susie's body vibrated under him. He kissed her lips as he settled. "I can't imagine anything better than that my Susie Q. Are you alright?"

She nodded yes as she slowly was able to make sense of the world again. "Axel that was a first for me. Twice in one night was a first."

"Yeah?" He grinned. “I'm going to toss the condom and get us some juice. You want cookies? I have cookies or gummy bears?" He pulled out laying beside her for a few moments. "Whatever you need I probably got it."

"Just the juice is fine Axel," She kisses his cheek.

He got up to go to the restroom first and then the kitchen. She hobbled to the restroom to pee and gets back in the bed where he is waiting with her juice and eating a cookie. Susie takes one bite of his cookie after drinking a whole glass of orange juice. She snuggles up to him. He spoons her as they quickly pass out to sleep.

Sometime mid morning Axel's hand rubbed Susie's back gently as he said,"I'm going to shower. Think about going out for breakfast before I take you home to get some more sleep. I have to have the garage open in two hours." He gets up to go shower.

Susie stretches out in his huge bed. Her limbs don't even come close to any edge. She lets out a little whine before she yawns. Then she opens her eyes. As soon as Axel comes out the bathroom with a towel draped around his hips she found her panties and bra before going to shower. Her cloths were still folded on a shelf that Axel also had a few towels and wash cloths setting.

Axel taped on the door while Susie was in the shower, "Hot coffee is ready in the kitchen, Babe." She grumbles a "thanks."

Axel had gotten dressed in black jeans with a black t-shirt while she was in the shower. He was reading something on his phone when she appeared in the kitchen donning sunglasses. Her hand clung to her phone naturally like it was just another part of her outfit. She muttered,"Coffee."

He made a mental note she was not a morning person, "How are you feeling?"

She muttered again, "coffee," as she sat across from him.

Axel slid a mug of hot brew her way. Sugar and creamer were on the table between them. He kept still and quiet as she added creamer to her coffee. When she started to look his way, he averted his eyes back to his phone. He took a drink of his coffee. "Better now,"

She spoke up after a few minutes. "Sorry, I can be a bitch in the morning."

"You are not so bad Susie Q," He finished his coffee. "Are you hungry?"

"I could use some pancakes," She smiled as she finished the dark rich gift of morning life.

Axel grabs his keys as they leave. He cut through the beach. He pops a wheelie as they head up a small hill back to the main road, Susie screams, She holds him tight as they dart in and out of vacationer traffic until he pulls into park at Karen's Diner. She keeps a hold of him a moment longer when they park there.

Axel lifts her hands up to his lips kissing each sweetly. He looks back at her. “How was the ride?” I didn’t scare you. Did I.”

“Not yet,” She laughed as she got off the back. “It was exhilarating. Almost as good as last night.”

“Thanks,” Axel grinned. They walked around the front of the restaurant. “We should have tit free dining this morning. I can’t imagine my brother and Jen are in any condition to be up yet. I hope he wasn’t morning shift on the east shore.”

Susie rolled her eyes, “I’m going to ignore that first remark, but I do hope neither of them have to work. Are you going to be all right to work? I know I’m heading back to bed for a while.”

Axel opened the door for her, “Yeah, I’ll be alright with a little more coffee. I don’t have to be there long today. A few others will be coming in and I can cut out early. You free tonight?”

They walked in holding hands. It wasn’t quite as full on a Sunday right before 11am. When they looked around for a table Susie saw her Dad waving frantically. She mumbled to Axel with her back to turn, “You might miss your favorite waitress after breakfast with my parent. We might as well get it over with.”

Axel chuckled, “Might as well.”

Her Dad switched to the same side of the booth as her Mom so Axel and Susie could sit together. “You two have a fun night?” He smiled. “I know we did.”

“Stop,” her Mother said smacking his shoulder as she blushed.

“You must be Axel,” He put out his hand for Axel to shake. “ I’m Richard Quinnby. My wife is Sandra.”

Axel shook his hand just keeping enough grip to show Mr. Quinnby he is confident but not overbearing. “Axel Cluney. I like the tat on your back Mr. Quinnby.” He thought it was a reasonable compliment.

“Thanks, Axel.” He said proudly.

A waitress came over. She yawned before offering coffee or juice to them. Everyone got coffee, eggs and pancakes on Axel’s suggestion. Susie had seen the girl at the bonfire last night swooning over Eric. It looked like she wasn’t done as she poured him more coffee at the counter and giggled at whatever he said.

“You have some original ink on you, Axel.” Richard continued.

“Yeah, I told my Father the other Day my body’s a temple and a canvas.” He chuckled. “I like to be creative and Sparky does great work. You should get another one while you here.” The waitress brought their coffee, “Thanks, Tami.”

“Your welcome, Axel,” She looked to everyone. “Your order will be right up.”

When she left Mrs. Quinnby spoke up, “No more Tattoos for Richard, right?”

“Right, Sandra, right.” He Sipped at his coffee. “You know that waitress Axel?” “Yeah, I grew up in this town.” He sipped his coffee. “She hangs out with my big brother, Eric. He is the blonde shamelessly flirting with her at the counter.”

“Susie said you had a lot of family here.” Sandra informed Axel. “Your Father is a Doctor?”

“Yeah, he runs the clinic a few doors down.”

Tami brought their food. Everyone dug right in after putting syrups on their pancakes.

“I own the garage so if you need an oil change before leaving I’m your man. Or I can just top off your fluids for free. My brother over there does construction. He will try to block you from leaving.” Axel Chuckled. “And my younger brother Josh is a lifeguard. This town is pretty much the family business. How do you like the pancakes.”

“I tell Susie all the time It is good to be productive,” Mr. Quinnby took his second big bite of pancakes. “These are fantastic.” He talked with his mouth full.

Mrs. Quinnby shook her head, “He can be such a heathen. I also heard this place has a jukebox. Where is that?”

“Right behind you Ma’am.” Axel answered politely as he took another bite smaller than usual. “It’s free. You just pick a song you want to hear, and she will play it real clear.” She put on Susie Q . Axel smiled at Susie as he finished his meal.

Her Mother sat back down. “I think this might brings on good memories for all sitting here.” Sandra smiled. “New and old memories I believe.”

Axel blushed as he finished his coffee. He stood, “It was nice meeting you. I have to get to work.” He kissed Susie’s cheek.” Get some rest and I’ll catch you later Susie Q.” He walked away out the door.

“I guess you're my ride back to the cottage, Dad.” She sipped on her coffee.

“We are going to bike ride along a coastal path with a tour guide,” Her Mother said happily. “You want to come with us.”

“I guess I can sleep when I’m old,” Susie laughed. “Sure I will go.” She wanted to make sure to spend time with her parents, so they didn’t say anything about her spending maybe most if not all her night with Axel.

Susie was just dozing off when her phone buzzed. It was Axel. “I’m fuck ready to pass out here, but I also miss you. Will you come over to sleep with me Susie Q?” He cooed. “I mean sleep tonight. No sex tonight.”

“She jumped up. “Yeah, Axel. I will be there shortly.” She packed an outfit for the next day with here hot pink and black satin with lace trim pj shorts with a top that matched. It didn’t take her long to be at his door.

He opened the door. His eyes all droopy with sleepiness that matched hers. “I went for a five-mile bike ride after breakfast and then Kayaking, so I am ready for sleep.” She hugged him looking up happily.

“Yeah, Somehow I got through a few tire rotations and some transmission work today.” He yawned. “Let’s hit the bed.”

“I’ll be right in Axel.” She walked in the apartment with him towards the bedroom. “I just need to put a few things in your bathroom and change.”

“Nothing too sexy to tease me now,” He yawned again. “I might not be awake but my dick sometimes has a mind of its own.”

She giggled. “I’ve heard that about those things.”

She disappears into the restroom as Axel strips to his boxers before laying down. When She walks in, his eyes are already closed. But when she snuggles up to him he wrapped around her like a lifeline. It doesn’t take long fore them to fall asleep completely comfortable with each other.

#axel cluney #Axel and Susie #fanfic #original story #smut.#fluff #bill skarsgard #short appears from Alex skarsgard #alex skarsgard #alex skarsgard as eric #fiction

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

Text

Self-Promo Sunday: Everyone Needs a Mother

I was inspired to write this story after reading a novel called No Other Will Do by Karen Witemeyer. In it, the main character is an orphan (who reminded me a lot of Killian Jones, actually), and even as an adult with a good job, he sets aside food whenever he eats. This is actually more of a Snowing and in particular a Mama Snow story than Captain Swan, which is part of the reason I’m deleting it from Ao3. However, I still love the feels in this story and hope ya’ll do too!

Summary: Snow notices a habit that her daughter and her son-in-law share, and it breaks her mothering heart. So, like any good mother, she decides to do something about it.

Rating:G (though discussions of children going hungry could be a trigger for some)

Words: 1500 and some change

On Ao3 until 11/24/19

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @jennjenn615 @kday426 @let-it-raines @teamhook @kmomof4 @bethacaciakay @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @distant-rose @shireness-says @xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @branlovestowrite @welllpthisishappening @hollyethecurious @stahlop @scientificapricot

The first time Snow noticed the habit in Emma, they were friends and roommates, ignorant of the fact that they were actually mother and daughter. They were chatting over breakfast as Emma toasted a bagel, slathering one half with cream cheese. The other she wrapped in a napkin before racing out the door. Snow shrugged it off assuming Emma was just in a hurry and finishing her breakfast on the run. But the pattern continued. One pancake and the other to go, one sugar cookie from the booth on Miner’s Day and one slipped in the inside pocket of her leather jacket. Snow finally came to the realization that her friend squirreled away food. To test her theory, she made a huge breakfast one morning with all the works: pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast. There was no way Emma could slip any of that in her pocket.

But she could wrap up the plate in aluminum foil and slip it in the fridge.

The first time she noticed Killian’s similar habit, she had other, more pressing matters on her mind. Like the shiny steel hook that had her jaw dropping as she pulled it from his satchel. She didn’t really have time to think about the half a hard-tack biscuit wrapped in a handkerchief at the bottom. Exactly half of the biscuit they had given him back at the camp when they thought he was just a blacksmith.

When life slowed down, Snow noticed Emma and her true love’s habit more and more. When Snow asked them over for dinner, they never finished their plates, always asking for Tupperware at the end of the evening for the leftovers. Every time they met for meals at Granny’s, Emma and Killian had to ask for a two-go box. When Regina jokingly asked why they didn’t just share a plate like Lady and the Tramp, the pair looked up with bewildered expressions. That was when Snow realized the habit was so ingrained, they didn’t even realize they were doing it.

She started watching them more closely. Killian was methodical, cutting a pancake precisely in half or running a spoon evenly down a mound of mashed potatoes. Even so, he did it on autopilot, often continuing in lively conversation as he dissected his meal. Though Emma was generally more haphazard about it, sometimes pausing before a bite, then lowering the food as she seemed to think better of it; she did count out her onion rings carefully, dividing them into two neat piles.

The refrigerator at the Jones house was packed with leftovers. When Snow commented on it to Henry, he had shrugged, eyes never leaving his video game.

“Our refrigerator in New York was the same,” he told her distractedly, “Walsh threw stuff out that had been in there for months.”

It was as if her daughter and her son-in-law were literally storing away food for the winter. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find a stock of canned goods in the shed like Doomsday Preppers. Except Emma and Killian seemed completely unaware of what they were doing.

The years rolled by and still Snow made no comment. Until her granddaughter came along and almost from the start became a food hoarder. On her second birthday, the child only finished half her slice of cake and asked, “Gamma, can I has some tuppa?” The same thing she heard her parents ask after every family dinner.

Things had gone too far, so she decided to talk it over with David. They were doing the dishes together one night, when Snow brought it up.

“David, have you noticed that both Emma and Killian only eat half of their food?”

David’s brow creased as he thought about it. “Yeah, I guess so,” then he chuckled, “that explains why they’re both so thin despite Emma’s junk food obsession.”

Snow frowned, her eyes narrowing, “It isn’t funny, David. It isn’t just that they only eat half; they save the rest for later.”

David sighed as he took in his wife’s expression. He dried his hands on the kitchen towel slung over his shoulder as he turned to her. “Honey, I know it worries you, but it’s just an old habit.”

“A habit they picked up as orphans,” Snow cried, “and before you say I’m jumping to conclusions, I asked Archie about it.”

David shrugged, “Well, that makes sense, they both spent many years unsure where their next meal was coming from. Even as adults, they had it rough. Emma admitted to you sleeping in her car was nothing new, and I’m sure pirates have lean times quite often.”

“But they don’t have to worry about that now. They have steady jobs, a roof over their heads, and even if they lost those things, they have a huge family and a town full of friends who would never let them go hungry.” Snow was pacing now, her anxiety rising. David stopped her with gentle hands to her shoulders.

“Like I said, sweetheart, it’s just a habit. Now that I’m thinking about it, I know that you’re right. But I also know that they aren’t even aware that they do it. It isn’t hurting anyone.”

Snow tilted her head up to scowl at her husband. “It’s hurting Hope. She’s picked up the habit. The other day I gave her two chocolate chip cookies, but right before she took a bite of the second one, she stopped. Asked me to wrap it up for her. Do you know what she said? Never know when the stores might get low.”

She saw David’s mouth twitch up and knew he was suppressing a laugh. “So Killian has taught her some sailor’s wisdom. Self-control and saving for later aren’t bad ideas, actually.”

Snow crossed her arms and stared at the floor for a moment in thought. Then she looked back up at her husband thoughtfully. “Maybe I should talk to them.”

David’s eyes went wide as he shook his head. “No, Snow, no! Do you know how embarrassed they both would be? And I know how you and Emma get when her days as an orphan come up.”

“What do you mean?”

David sighed deeply. “You start feeling guilty and then Emma feels bad for making you feel bad. It never ends well. Look. I know you want to mother them, but believe me, it’s best to drop it.”

Snow knew he was right, even as a frown marred her face. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest as he held her close. He kissed the top of her head, and her eyes slipped shut. Her husband’s words replayed in her mind. I know you want to mother them.

Snow’s eyes flew open and she smiled. That was it!

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

Snow tried to be subtle about it: an extra scoop of mashed potatoes, a larger roast for family dinners, a slightly larger slice of pie. She even got Granny in on it, convincing the woman to give Emma an order and a half of onion rings. Or at least she thought she was being subtle. Then Emma cornered her in the kitchen after a family dinner at the farm house.

“Okay Mom, what’s up?”

Snow schooled her features as she turned from the refrigerator to see Emma standing there with her arms crossed. Snow mimicked her, crossing her own arms and leaning back against the appliance. “What are you talking about?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about the obscenely large slice of chocolate cake you just served Killian.”

Snow laughed as she grabbed a cloth and began wiping down the counters. “Emma, he’s a grown man and a pirate. He can handle that much cake.”

“Please, Mom. You’re the world’s worst liar. I’ve noticed it for weeks now. The mountains of mashed potatoes, the extra-large roasts. And did you tell Granny to up my onion rings?”

Snow inwardly cursed as she felt heat rise to her pale cheeks. “Emma, you’re exaggerating.”

Her daughter arched an eyebrow and tapped her booted foot on the hardwood floor. “Mhm. Okay. What is it? Think we need fattening up? Worried we’re wasting away?”

Well, at least this Snow could answer honestly. She lifted her eyes to meet Emma’s. “Of course not, honey. You may be thin, but look at those arms of yours. I’ve seen you wrestle beasts, literally. And Killian may be slim, but I’ve seen those biceps when he actually takes off that leather jacket. You’re healthy as horses.”

A smile tilted Emma’s mouth, “You checking out my husband’s biceps, Mom?”

Snow laughed and flicked her daughter with the kitchen towel. “If I wanted to check out some hot biceps, I’d just admire your father with his shirt off.”

Emma’s nose crinkled, “Ew, mom, TMI!”

They both laughed for a minute or two, and then Snow came close and cupped her daughter’s face in her hands. “Can you trust me, Emma? You and Killian both went far too long without a mother, and I aim to fix that. Please?”

Snow could tell her daughter was trying valiantly to remain composed, but the sheen of tears in her eyes gave her away. Emma nodded then stepped from her mother’s embrace. Before turning to go, she shook the unshed tears away and flashed her mother a grin.

“I’m okay with that.”

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

At the next family dinner, Snow was filling up plates and passing them around the large dining room table in the farm house’s formal dining room. When she handed her daughter a loaded plate, Emma just winked and smiled at her mother. Then Snow added an extra scoop to Killian’s already massive mound of mashed potatoes, and handed him a plate as well.

The pirate winked at her as he accepted the heavy plate. “Thank you, Mother Snow.”

#cs ff #self promo sunday #future fic #slight angst with a happy ending #mama snow #snowing ff #charming family feels

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robrae-headquarters · 4 years

Text

The Beast (Beastfire Commission)

Pairing : Beastfire (Beast Boy, Starfire)

Word Count : 5,888

Warnings : Swearing, Implied Death, Violence, Animal Death, Near Death Experiences

Commission : Yes!

Description : Beast Boy is hiding something from Starfire, and she is determined to find out. But all knowledge comes with a price.

~ ~ ~

Beast Boy’s eyes slowly blinked open. The image of the world faded in and out of his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut and then reopened them, allowing him to see the scenery around him. When his eyes met the sight of an alleyway and not his bedroom he did a double take. What the fuck was going on. Beast Boy started to look at the area around him.

The alley was dimly lit by a streetlamp at the opening of the alley. Deep, rugged claw marks appeared on the concrete of the surrounding buildings, stopping where he stood. The entire alley was trashed, for a dumpster had been completely demolished and strewn all over the ground. Other than the trash, the claw marks, and him, the alley was empty. As he inspected how deep the claw marks went into the building, Beast Boy noticed out of the corner of his eye something he hadn't caught before. A trail of blood. A massive trail of blood, leading directly to him.

Immediately his mind kicked into overdrive to find the wound. That was a LOT of blood and if he was that seriously injured he needed help now. His hands became cold and sticky whilst frantically checking his body for the catastrophic wound. Finally, Beast Boy concluded that he was not injured, which made him vomit on the pavement. That was not his blood. That was someone else's. There is no way in hell that person is alive now.

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Beast Boy shouted as he punched the wall in fear, his emotions getting the better of him. His thoughts were too much in overdrive to register the pain and a small section of the building crumbled beneath his fist. Had he killed someone?? There’s no way a Teen Titan could kill someone who’s not a villain and be fine. Beast Boy was so fucked. The sound of a door opening nearby snapped him out of his panic as he realized he couldn’t be caught here.

The green boy transformed into a hummingbird and sped away from the scene, desperate to be somewhere else. Blood dripped from his wings as he flew, causing him to cringe. He was leaving a small trail, but probably not one that could be traced. Beast Boy headed for the ocean, knowing he needed to rid of the blood before he returned to the tower.

He flew over the ocean, letting the cold breeze embrace him before diving into the icy water, transforming into a sea otter to aid his swimming abilities. Slowly the blood washed out of his fur. The process helped calm his mind some, until a thought struck him. The Press. Holy fuck, The Press.

The Press nor the public could know of the Werebeast, who was definitely the culprit behind what he had seen. He would lose his social media following. His extra inflow of cash would be gone. His reputation as a Teen Titan ruined. They could not know one of their heroes had a dark side this bad. They could not know that he probably killed someone tonight. Beast Boy shuddered at the thought. Taking another’s life… It wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d do. Quickly he jammed the thought down. He could not have a breakdown about it. He needed to buck up, move forward, and solve the problem.

“My DNA shouldn’t be at the scene, I’m not injured in the slightest. The body wasn’t there… Maybe they survived?” He clung to the thought like a lifeline.

Once his bones felt as cold as the arctic and he couldn’t take the water anymore he swam to shore and turned into a cheetah, racing home to be in the comfort of his room. This night needed to be over. He could worry about the rest later.

***

Whilst most Titans were asleep in the tower, Starfire was not. In fact, she was wide awake. It wasn’t because she couldn’t sleep, X’Hal knows she could, it was more that she had a feeling she shouldn’t. She couldn’t quite place where the feeling was coming from. It didn’t feel like her intuition or her gut talking to her. Just this nagging in the back of her mind. Don’t go to sleep. Don’t go to sleep. There’s something important you have to see. Over and over again until she resolved to wait. And wait she did.

Starfire overhauled her entire room that night trying to keep herself awake. Everything was neatly put away, the floors freshly clean and sparkling. She had spent hours folding and organizing all her clothes until her hands ached. All the surfaces were dusted and everything looked like it was exactly where it should be. Her bed appeared like a lush heaven to her, the silk pillowcases and plush blankets just calling her name. But, she didn’t. Instead she lit multiple candles, ranging in scents of sugar cookies to lilacs and began to exercise.

The exercise gave her mind something else to think about besides the small mound of anxiety it was producing. She was going to discover something soon. She just knew it. It was something big, something important. She had to know what it was. Sweat started to drip down her temples as she reached the 200 sit-up mark. After grabbing a swig of water Starfire began to do push-ups.

Starfire stopped mid push-up as the clock struck 3 am. She slowly raised herself into a standing position, every muscle in her body feeling tense. There was someone in the hallway. Cautiously she moved towards her bedroom door, opening it as quietly as she could manage. What she saw was not what she was expecting.

There trudged Beast Boy down the hallway, one arm limp at his side and the other lightly dragging against the wall. His body was tense and he kept looking all over as if watching out for something. Starfire thought it would be best if he didn’t see her, so she ducked back every time he turned to look. His hair was damp, like he’d just gotten back from a swim. Starfire could tell he looked guilty as if he didn’t want anyone to know what was going on.

Star closed her door and sank into her bed, nuzzling her face into her pillows before letting out a deep sigh. Slowly she relaxed her body, starting with her neck and ending with her toes. There was something going on with Beast Boy, something obviously big and possibly dangerous. Worry gnawed at her mind for the green boy, someone who she cared for very deeply. More deeply than anyone else knew. She sighed and turned off the lights, resolving to find out what was going on, no matter the cost.

***

Just about every muscle in Beast Boy’s body ached when he awoke the next morning. Or maybe he should say afternoon, since it was around 12pm. He felt as if he’d been run over by an 18-wheeler. “So much for no injuries,” Beast Boy muttered as he dragged himself to the shower. He needed a warm pick me up after all the fuckery that was yesterday's events.

Whilst the steamy, hot water rejuvenated his body, Beast Boy joked with himself, “If only I believed in gods, I’d probably be praying to a higher power. Not that that ever works out for anyone anyways.” Instead he put all his hopes into good luck. Maybe today will be his lucky day and everything will go smoothly. No mention of yesterday's bullshit today, tomorrow, or ever again.

As soon as the doors opened to the common room of the tower to let Beast Boy in, Starfire was at his side. She smiled at him and he grinned back, not even having to fake it. That’s how it always was with Star. He felt good around her, always feeling like he could tell her anything. He knew he loved her. He felt that emotion strongly whenever she was around. He’d planned on confessing eventually, but there never seemed to be a good time to do so. And right now was certainly not a good time.

“Hello Beast Boy! What a lovely day it is today! Did you sleep well?” Starfire chirped to him as he began to make tofu bacon and fake eggs for breakfast. Well, breakfast was a stretch but fuck it.

He nodded to her, unfortunately not having the energy to speak, let alone speak cheerfully, even if it was Starfire. Beast Boy hoped she’d take the hint. She was determined though, and spoke again.

“What are you making, friend?” Beast boy let a small sigh escape his lips before responding in the best cheerful voice he could manage.

“Brunch! Fake bakey with fake eggs!” He smiled at her as he flipped the food, the smell making his stomach gurgle.

“Oh! I love the brunch! It is both breakfast and lunch, put together into one joyful meal!” Starfire smiled as she began to gather the ingredients to make pancakes. Maybe all this talk of brunch stirred her appetite. Robin appeared at the counter, seemingly out of nowhere, gave the pancake ingredients a quick glance before settling his gaze on Beast Boy.

“Late night last night Beast Boy? You’re usually awake early for breakfast, not brunch.” Beast Boy froze in his tracks, dropping a piece of bacon on the floor. Robin raised an eyebrow at the fumble and Starfire stopped what she was doing to watch the encounter.

Beast Boy swore under his breath before quickly scooping up the fake bacon and depositing it into the trash. He proceeded to turn back to Robin and prepared to tell the most convincing lie he’d ever told.

“Yeah man, the game I’ve been waiting to play for months got released yesterday and I played it for twelve hours straight last night. I do not regret a second of it.” Beast Boy pulled off his signature grin at the end to add to the credibility.

Without missing a beat Cyborg spoke from his spot on the couch, “Yeah, sounds like classic Beast Boy. Proud of you my man.” Cyborg gave him a thumbs up and resumed his game. Beast Boy silently thanked the power of luck for Cy’s comment. His lie was foolproof now.

Terra, who was currently destroying Cyborg at the game, laughed. “That does sound like some shit bird for brains would do. Next time invite me, I love nonstop gaming.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” With that Robin arose from the counter and sat back with his girlfriend, Raven, whose nose was currently pressed into a book.

“If you were playing the video games all night then why did I see you soaking wet walking to your room last night?” She had thankfully lowered her voice for only him to hear, but his blood ran cold at her words. Quick, think of a lie think of a lie…

“I was so fucking tired after playing and I was also disgusting so I went to take a shower before I went to sleep. Must have showered in my clothes, what a dummy.” He gave a small chuckle and waited for her reaction. She seemed to think about it for a moment before returning back to a normal, cheerful Star.

“Ah, that makes sense. I hope you sleep better tonight friend.” Star returned to pancake making and Beast Boy let out a sigh of relief. Everyone believed him. There was no need to worry. After quickly chowing down his food he flopped on the couch between Terra and Cyborg, settling into his normal schedule. Maybe everything would turn out okay after all.

***

Starfire was skeptical. Everyone else had believed what Beast Boy had said, but she did not. Maybe it was because she loved him, or maybe it’s because her gut had been leading her this whole time, and it had never been wrong before. But before completely jumping to conclusions she decided to converse with someone else who had once been very close to Beast Boy.

It took three knocks until the door whooshed open with Terra standing behind it. Her face had a blank, bored look to it until she realized it was Star. Her face soon broke into a grin.

“Starfire! For what reason do I owe the pleasure? Come to get your ass kicked at video games?” Terra smirked, thinking this visit was for fun.

“Could I come in? There was something I wanted to ask you about Beast Boy.” Terra’s face fell slightly but she nodded, standing aside to let the Tamaranian girl in. Terra sat on her bed and Star quickly spotted a bean bag chair and dove to it immediately.

“Oh! A bag of beans in chair form! I do love these!” She smiled as the chair formed around her.

“We totally need to order you one then, but that’s probably something for later. What did you need to ask me?” Terra’s attention was entirely on Star as she rested her face in her hands. Star grew serious instantly. The palms of her hands started to sweat, for she was nervous.

“Do you think Beast Boy has been acting… Strange lately?” She fiddled with the bean bag chair whilst waiting for a response.

“Not overly. Staying up playing video games isn’t out of the norm for him. Neither is fake eggs and fake bacon, or getting his ass kicked by yours truly in games.” Terra beamed, clearly proud of her achievement.

“I suppose those are not. But what if I told you I saw him walking back to his room at 3 in the morning dripping wet. And when asked about this, his response is that he got into the shower with his clothes on and didn't realize?” Star frowned, still upset that she believed he lied to her. She was a good friend, was she not? Why would he lie to her? What did she do wrong?

“Oh. That is odd. Even for bird brains.” Terra seemed equally puzzled by this information. She stood up and grabbed a rock from her desk, making it form different shapes quickly. “Sorry, it helps me think.” Star nodded, still fiddling with the beans inside the chair.

“Okay, this isn’t the soundest advice I’ve ever given, but ya could follow him. If you think he’s being dishonest, and he lies when confronted, then you gotta take it to the next step if you think it’s serious. Which I take it you are, seeing as you came to me about it.”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if this stays between us. I do not know if this is something everyone should know about yet, seeing as even I do not know what it is.” Terra nodded immediately.

“Of course! Scouts honor that no words will pass through these lips.” Terra held up her fingers to prove her point, producing a small giggle from the other Titan.

“I think I will follow your advice friend, thank you for the help!”

After saying her goodbyes with Terra, Starfire began to develop a plan.

***

Blood pounded in Beast Boy’s ears as he bounded through the sewage underfoot. He was large. He was powerful. And he was out for fucking blood. He wanted to sink his massive fucking fangs into some flesh and rip it to shreds. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. And destroy he would. Nothing would stop him. Absolutely fucking nothing.

His paws grew nastier as he tore through the sewers, looking for prey. Any prey would do, it didn’t matter to him. To find prey, you needed a scent, so he began to search for one. Once one was located, Beast Boy’s mouth started to water. He moves slowly at first, his nose stuck to the ground. Then suddenly he was off like a cheetah honing in on its prey. A large sewer rat came into his peripherals before it was completely obliterated.

Blood, guts, and fur went everywhere as Beast Boy the Werebeast devoured its prey. The rat let out a screech, its body torn in two. The carnage was horrible, but the Werebeast didn’t care. Licking his chops, he let out a huff. This was not enough. He needed more. He needed it now.

It took him a while to locate a way out of the sewers. It knew that out of the ground there would be bigger prey. And bigger prey meant more flesh. The Werebeast grinned at the thought, although to anyone else it would look more like a sinister grimace.

His paws hit grass as he emerged into the cool moonlight. He howled, low and quiet. It was a fair warning to any prey that could be around. Scared and knowing prey was always more fun to hunt than unknowing.

The Werebeast prowled around the area, searching for a scent. He seemed to be in an open wooded area, no buildings or street lights in sight. Perfect for hunting. He searched and searched for a scent, but couldn’t seem to find one of a worthy prey. His anger rose. His claws needed things now!

In an outburst of anger the Werebeast attacked a tree. He threw his entire body weight at it, lunging and clawing and biting at the old oak, growling until the tree toppled over. The tree cascaded into another and two resounding snaps filled the air. The sound echoed throughout the forest. He clawed the tree twice more for good measure and howled to the sky about his conquest, satisfying some of his need.

It seemed to be the Werebeast’s lucky day, for a lone night hiker heard the commotion and couldn’t help but investigate. The Werebeast sensed her before she even arrived, and his twisted grin returned. Dinner has arrived.

The girl cautiously moved towards the scene. She had something in her hand, probably pepper spray or a horn to scare bears off. In her other, a shaky beam of light from a flashlight filled the area. Her demeanor quickly changed from curious to frightened once her gaze fell upon the deep marks in the tree. This is not somewhere she should be, and she knew it. Fear and sweat radiated off her in waves. Waves that he could pick up on. Let the games begin.

He intentionally snapped a twig underfoot before silently moving to a different position. The girl whirled around to the location of the noise, shining her flashlight around. Finding nothing, she sighed. “It’s probably just my imagination. I should head home…” The girl turned around and started a brisk pace out of the area, only glancing back once.

The Werebest began to stalk her. He stayed far enough behind to give her a false sense of security. Make her feel calm before ramping up her heartbeat once more. He followed her until they were in a more open area. It appeared to be a park. There was a clear walking path, with trees spaced out and park benches here and there. He could see buildings from here, which meant it was time to strike.

A bone chilling howl shook the night. The girl stopped dead in her tracks. She turned around and the flashlight fell out of her hand, for before her stood a beast unlike any other. A huge green beast, with massive fangs and claws. It smelled of sewage and blood. There was visible blood and guts covering the front of the creature as well as dripping from its jaws. A scream tore it’s way out of her throat as she broke out into a dead sprint. She wanted as far away from this creature as fast as she could, or she was dead. She knew it.

While she was fast, the Werebeast was faster. He let her think she could outrun him. It would be more fun this way. Soon he tailed right behind her and knocked her form aside with his massive claws. Her body slammed into a tree like a rag doll, knocking the wind out of her. She whimpered and tried to get up, but was slammed back down by the beast. His claws raked her arms, causing her to cry out. Blood began to drip down her arm, the flesh torn wide open. The Werebeast could barely contain his excitement.

Not wanting her to run again, the Werebeast leaned over her and set both limbs on either side of her legs. The girl struggled and screamed, which only urged him on more. An audible snap rang through the clearing as the Werebeast broke the girls leg clean in half. The girl stopped struggling. Tears streamed down her face and sobs wracked through her body.

The Werebeast backed off to admire his prey. Soon to be his kill. Once it raised itself on its hind legs, he let out the loudest and most haunting howl of the night, and went for the killing blow. Green light filled his vision and the world grew dark before his body slammed into the ground.

***

Starfire was in shock. She was going to have to battle Beast Boy. Beast Boy, whom she loved dearly. She couldn’t kill him. Please, X’Hal, don’t make her kill him. She wouldn’t be able to bear it.

The last couple hours had been a blur. She’d basically sat in the hallway outside of Beast Boy’s door, pretending to read a magazine. That way, if he left his room, she would know, and would be able to follow him. Except he didn’t leave his room. For hours. Eventually Star grew impatient and knocked on his door to see what he was doing. ‘So much for secret spy work’ she thought to herself. Maybe being direct was the better way to go about this anyways. She got no answer. After knocking a few times she let herself in. Was he just sleeping?

Except he most definitely wasn’t. Beast Boy was nowhere to be found. The only thing that left a sign of where he was was the broken glass all over the floor. Broken glass from his window, which had a giant sized hole in it, as if someone had flung themselves out of it. Why would Beast Boy do that? Starfire immediately flew through the window in an attempt to find a trail. And a trail she did find.

Giant footprints in the dirt. Leading directly to the sewage entrance. “Fuck.” She had a pretty good feeling she knew what the cause of this was. And X’Hal did she wish she was wrong.

After entering the sewers and finding what she believed to be the trail Beast Boy left, Starfire pulled out her Titan communicator. Quickly whilst flying through the sewers she called Terra.

“Hey girl, how's the spy work going?” She shot Star a grin through the camera. Little did she know all hell was breaking loose.

“Terra! You must gather the team immediately and get all citizens inside! Tell Robin I fear the worst… I believe the Werebeast is back. I am currently tracking his location as we speak and I’m…” Star’s voice broke as she spoke her next words. “I am prepared to take any measures necessary to protect Jump City.” Starfire began to lose her composure so she ended the communication, knowing that Terra would do what needed to be done.

She’d stumbled upon the scene where the rat was decimated. The sight and smell made her stomach sour, and she did her best not to lose her dinner. Still, she carried on. Star managed to follow the trail up through the sewers and into a forest before losing it. She muttered a string of slurs in her native language, cursing herself for not being able to follow the trail any longer. Panic rose in her chest, and she quickly squashed it. Now was no time for her shortcomings.

Starfire resorted to flying above and around the forested area, trying to locate where Beast Boy could possibly be. The task was similar to the phrase ‘finding a needle in a barn’ or something to that effect. Her heart sank and her chest started to constrict once more. Beast Boy was lost and she couldn’t find him. He might even die before knowing her true feelings, and Star couldn’t bear the thought. She hurled a starbolt into the forest out of pure rage.

At the same time she heard a loud crack. She snapped her head up and saw in the distance some trees falling. Beast Boy!! Her heart sang. She had found him! There was no actual evidence that the disruption was him, but she knew that it was somehow. She raced towards the spot, which looked to be a couple miles off. She could make that. She would make that.

By the time she reached the destruction, there was no one around. She couldn’t give up yet. She was close, and she wasn’t going to fuck it up. Not this time. She could see in a short distance the forest gave way to a park, and decided that towards civilization was a good bet. And the sight she saw once she got there destroyed her inside.

A girl lay dying against a tree stained with her blood. Her leg was broken, and she didn’t appear to be moving. Above her leered Beast Boy in his Werebeast form, about to go for the killing blow. Starfire had to act fast, so she did the first thing she could think of. She threw a starbolt at his face. Hard.

It wasn’t hard to accomplish, seeing as she was so fucking furious at the gods and cosmic balance for letting this shitshow take place. Couldn’t things just go good for them once?? Did happy endings even exist?

Her starbolt hit the Werebeast like a ton of bricks, knocking him unconscious momentarily. Starfire knew she couldn’t count on it to be for long. Quickly she called for urgent backup and medical aid to her location. That was all she had time for before the Werebeast stirred. More slurs tore through her throat as she prepared to battle her love.

The Werebeast looked fucking pissed. It shook itself awake, taking one look at its prey before glancing back to the floating being in the sky with the glowing green fist. That sure caught his attention. He flung himself towards her, ready for a fight.

Starfire made the first move, flinging a series of starbolts at him, most of which he dodged. Whilst she did so she moved backwards, causing him to have to follow her. She wanted him as far away from the victim as possible. She needed to buy time for the rest of them to get there with the tranquilizer darts, for she had none on her.

It worked at first. She stayed up high enough for him to not be able to grab her. He dodged her starbolts. He flung things, like small trees and boulders, and she slashed and dodged those as well. The starbolts didn’t seem to slow him down enough when they did hit, and Star was losing stamina from having to dodge such massive objects at a rapid pace.

Her heart beat fast as she readied another attack. Sirens suddenly lit up the air, causing a momentary distraction to Starfire. Help is on the way! Her heart bloomed. She could do this until they got here, it would be a piece of cake. But the Werebeast was smart, and used this window of opportunity to launch a park bench at her. One she wasn’t able to dodge.

She hit the ground with a loud thud. Her body felt like splintered glass, and she had no air in her lungs. The Werebeast was on her in a second. He removed the park bench from her with a flick of his paw, like it was weightless. It was replaced by his massive form. He pushed his claws onto her chest, slowly adding to the pressure, toying with her. Starfire coughed up blood, her whole body burning.

Starfire had to make a choice. She was going to die if they didn’t get there this instant. Unless she killed him first. His eyes looked cold and dead, nothing like Beast Boy. Nothing like the one she loved. She couldn’t see any remembrance in his eyes of who she was. A tear rolled down her face.

“I’m so sorry, my bumgorf, I have failed us. Please forgive me. I will always love you.” More tears soaked her face as she slowly raised her hand. The Werebeast looked at her in confusion. She slammed her hand into his chest, blasting him directly with a starbolt. The Werebeasts eyes closed, and he fell off her, slamming into the ground. His form changed back into the small frame of Beast Boy. He didn’t move. He didn’t breath. Starfire’s entire body felt dead. Her heart felt as if it was torn in two. She let out a tortured sob as she let herself succumb to the darkness of unconsciousness.

***

The steady beep, beep, beep, of a heart monitor slowly filled Beast Boy's ears. His mouth was as dry as a desert, his lips cracked. His eyes felt like sandpaper as he tried to pry them open. He was successful on the third try, and his eyes were met with the bright lights of the med bay. There was something warm next to him, and when he turned his head the beautiful Starfire lay next to him, her face in shock. She looked ragged and tired, the bags under her eyes massive. It looked like the life had been taken out of her. His heartbeat kicked up just knowing she was this close to him, the heart monitor betraying that to her. Tears rolled down Star’s cheeks.

“I… we... “ She struggled to form a sentence, her body shaking slightly. “We thought you were dead. I thought.. I thought I killed you.” She sobbed slightly, and buried her head in his shoulder. Beast Boy was confused. Dead? He brought his hand up to her back and rubbed slow comforting circles.

“Dead?” He coughed out, not having used his vocal chords in a while. “Why would I be dead? I’m healthy as a horse, Star.” Her sobbing seemed to lessen after a moment, and she lifted her head again.

“Beast Boy, how long have you been turning into the Werebeast?” The question shocked him. “Don’t lie to me. We all know.” He sighed deeply.

“Uh, at least once. That’s the only time I can remember, it’s hard to say. How do you know?” Panic rose in his chest, the heart monitor picking up pace as his hands began to sweat and his head clouded up. “Does the press know? Please star, don’t tell me everyone knows.” His body trembled. Star’s face creased with worry as she rubbed his arm in comfort.

“Last week, I decided to follow you after you seemed to be acting strange. I found you attacking a girl. I had to attack you as well, and…” She stopped for a moment to regain her composure. “And we battled. Intensely. And you caught me. In order to survive, I had to strike you directly with a powerful starbolt. I thought I’d killed you. You’ve been in a coma for a week. I thought I’d never forgive myself.” She broke off again, a small sob breaking her voice. Beast Boy put his hand on hers. He couldn’t believe he’d done that. He almost killed a civilian. He almost killed Star. How could he do that. What a fucking monster. He was a monster.

It was almost as if Starfire could read his mind. “You are absolutely not a monster Beast Boy! Do not think that. It is not something you can control!” She took both his hands in hers. “Besides, do you believe I could love a monster Beast Boy? Because… I love you. I am in love with you, and I always have been.” Her eyes shined at his, her heart so full of the love she held for him. Beast Boy was amazed. She loved him!

“I love you too Star. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m so so sorry I hurt you, I should have never done that. I will never forgive myself for that.” They looked at each other for a long time, just staring and basking in this newfound feeling. The love sent cracks through their ever growing despair. It didn’t make all the awful things go away, no the consequences for those things remained. It did lessen the burdens, ever so slightly.

Beast Boy had to break himself from the trance, knowing there were other things that needed to be discussed. “That girl… Did she live?” He asked it quietly, afraid of the answer.

“She did! She will make a full recovery and has been advised to not go on anymore walks at night alone. She’ll probably need a lot of medical help, but she will be alright.” She gave him a small smile of reassurance.

“As for the press, some did find out.” She gave him a small frown, for his body had gone rigid with the news. His whole life… over. If they knew, it was all over.

“Do not fret, love. Robin had it taken care of! Wayne Enterprises has paid that press company handsomely to keep it from the public. It should not ever become a problem.” Beast Boy’s body relaxed, relief flooding his system. Maybe everything would turn out okay.

“We’ve also come up with a plan, so that you will not have to worry as much about doing something awful. There is a safe room similar to the one we had for Raven. All of us will carry around tranquilizer darts as a safety precaution. Cyborg has also created a tracker chip to put in you as well as one that can sense the biochemical changes that happen when you shift into the Werebeast, giving us more of a warning. Only if you’ll agree to them, of course.” She gave him a small smile, proud of the work her and her team had done for Beast Boy.

“Of course I consent! I can’t believe you guys have done so much for me… I couldn’t ask for better friends.” Beast Boy trailed off, unsure of where to go from here.

“I can help you, I think.” Starfire smiled at him, determination in her voice. “I think we can battle this together, you and I, if you’ll have me. You don’t have to keep anything from me. We can solve your inner demons, and win! I just know it.” She flashed him a smile that always melted his insides, and his heart swelled. Starfire loved him. She accepted him how he is, and is even willing to help him. He couldn’t ask for anything more. He leaned over and captured her lips in his, kissing her passionately. She was still for a moment, before returning the kiss with a firepassion. Their lips melded together perfectly as if meant for each other. He never wanted this moment to end. He was ready to put all this shit behind him and move forward. He wanted to conquer it, and make things right, with Starfire by his side. And they would, together.

#beastfire #beast boy #starfire #beast boy x starfire #Teen Titans #dc #teen titans fanfiction #TT #writing commissions #commission

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kelleyish · 4 years

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Good evening, or perhaps good morning tumblr, since it’s technically morning. Let’s do another bullet-ish type of post. Maybe without the literal bullets.

I just saw on Twitter that AMC has acquired the rights to Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles and her Mayfair Witches series, with an aim to make shows about them. I am excite. I was allllll about Anne Rice in high school and beyond. It’s been a while since I’ve picked up any to read, but I still own quite a few of them. I would loooooove a well financed and well produced and at least somewhat faithful series about either of those properties.

We have breakfast for dinner quite a lot around here, and I made these the other day. And although they look pretty, they didn’t turn out super well. They were supposed to be keto pancakes in muffin form, and the recipe was something I’d screencapped and I don’t know for sure it was correct, as it was pretty much just eggs and cream cheese. I ended up throwing in some coconut flour because I didn’t think they were going to turn out super well as it was very liquidy on its own. They were edible but super boring, even with butter and sugar free syrup.

Anyway, I actually experimented with two recipes that day, and the other one turned out way better. I don’t have a picture of them, but here’s the pic that accompanied the recipe. Mine didn’t look nearly as pretty.

300 grams of cottage cheese (This is about a regular container size)

1 large egg

2 tbsp of sweetener (I used powdered swerve, and I probably increased the amount too)

4 tbsp flour, plus more for rolling (I used WIO flour, which is controversial. You could maybe do almond, it might work out okay)

1 chocolate bar (I used Lily’s chocolate chips)

So you mix together the cottage cheese, sweetener, egg, and flour. This is supposed to form a dough with which you can make balls, but that turned out to be very difficult. My cottage cheese, the curds were extremely firm and there was a lot of loose water. Next time I would pour off some of the watery part instead of stirring it up, because I ended up having to add a lot more flour to make up for it. Also, because the curds were so firm, the only way I could get this into anything resembling a dough was to put it in the blender. Even after doing that, the consistency I reached was honestly something akin to warm cream cheese frosting.

At this point, you’re supposed to form balls, then take a square of your chocolate bar and form the dough around it and then roll it in more flour and flatten it a little. I ended up using a cookie scoop and dropping it onto a plate of flour, putting 5 or 6 chocolate chips on top, and adding a little more dough on top to try to encase the chips. Then I used a spatula to flip over the mound in the flour and at that point I could carefully pick it up and transfer it to the oiled griddle pan. At that point you cook them like little pancakes.

While I was making them I was like, “Unless these are awesome I’m never making them again.” Well, of course they were awesome. They were sweet and chewy in a fantastic way, and then you’d hit the melted chocolate in the middle... They were awesome.

I’m still suffering from having to wait a whole week in between episodes of Chris Evans’ TV show, so I ended up watching a movie of his that went straight to Netflix a bit ago, The Red Sea Diving Resort, and didn’t make much of a stir at the time. It’s set in the ‘70s and Chris plays an Israeli Mossad agent who is smuggling Ethiopian Jews out of the country to escape genocide. It was definitely a thirst watch for me, much like 13 Hours with John Krasinski - movies I wouldn’t go out of my way to watch if they didn’t feature things like this:

According to the internet this was filmed right around the time of Infinity War, which lines up with how muscle-y he appears, and also his long hair and beard. Apparently it’s also a heart wrenching, based-on-true-events story, and...

Oops, my hand slipped and inserted a gif. Anyway, it’s a decent movie if you’re looking for something to watch in these trying times. It features several other attractive shirtless dudes as they go around their diving resort cover, including one of the adult sons from Haunting of Hill House. (To be clear though, there is like lots of murder and some pretty disturbing implied sexual assault by the bad guys).

And finally I will leave you with this image of Jeff Goldblum looking alarmingly big next to Hugh Grant in 1995′s romantic comedy Nine Months.

This was on tv this evening as I was flipping channels, and I was struck by the peak Jeff Goldblumness. This was just post-Jurassic Park, and although Hugh’s luscious 90s hair trumped Jeff’s short mullet, Jeff wins in all the other categories. Just look at how long his arms are. I bet he gives amazing hugs.

#my own posts #Keto Recipes #stuff i'm watching #Chris Evans #jeff goldblum #thirst

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avengerscompound · 5 years

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Mixology - The Morning After

Mixology - A Captain America Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2952

Series Warnings: Angst, Character death, Breaking up and making up, past trauma, pregnancy, talk of abortion, smut (vaginal sex, fingering, other things)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers comes into your bar and after a night of flirting you take him home. When he leaves the next day you never expect to see him again.

A/N: This fic was written pre-Infinity War. So while it follows canon for a while, it then veers off wildly at the end.

The Morning After

You wake up engulfed from behind by large arms. The room is filled with light and you open your eyes glancing at your clock. 10.30. Decent sleep in, in the end. Steve stirs beside you. His grip tightens around your body, pulling you against him. He nuzzles his face into your hair and presses his hips against you. He’s hard and his erection pushes against your ass.

“Good morning.” You say. You run your fingers down his forearms, tracing your fingertips over the prominent veins that lead down to his hands.

He hums and his hands start roaming over your body. You don’t want him to stop, but your stupid bladder has other ideas.

He rolls away from you suddenly and sits up. “I better call work. Tell them I’m not coming in.”

He picks his phone off the bedside table. It’s one of those Stark Tech ones and he swipes his finger around the screen for a second before holding it to his ear.

“Good morning. It’s Captain Rogers. I won’t be able to make it in today … I injured myself on my morning workout … No, I don’t need medical attention … I am aware of that.” He holds his phone out in front of him then looks back at you. “Battery went flat. That’s a shame.” He carefully places the phone back on the bedside table and rolls back over, pinning you to the bed.

“Now,” He says, kissing that spot just below your ear, “I think we should take a shower together.”

You wriggle out from underneath him. “Okay, but I need to pee first.” You squeak and dash into the bathroom.

After you’re done, you brush your teeth and let Steve use the bathroom too. When you hear the shower start up you go back in to join him. He’s already naked and standing under the water so you strip off and climb in with him. When he turns to you, you nearly audibly gasp. You actually bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from making a sound.

He is literally the most perfect example of a human being you’ve ever seen. Every single muscle on his body is huge and well defined. His cock though. His cock is a dildo creator's wet dream. It is thick and long, and just perfect. Veined without being too veined. Totally straight. You try and remember if you’ve ever seen cock as big as his before. Not in person, that’s definitely true. In porn? Maybe. It’s a little intimidating if you’re honest with yourself.

You wonder if you should compliment him. Do guys like that? Fuck it, you’re doing it anyway. “Nice package you’re sporting there, pal.” You grin at him like the idiot you currently feel like and mentally curse yourself.

He starts laughing. “Thank you?” He says.

You shake your head and start giggling. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards him. He guides your fingers to his cock and moves them up and down his length. He stiffens under your palm and you wrap your fingers around it. As you pump your fist up and down his shaft he starts kissing you. He spins you both so you’re under the water and pushes you against the wall. His mouth moves down your neck to your chest. Each kiss is accompanied by the graze of teeth on your skin.

When he reaches your breast he teases your nipple with his teeth and the point of his tongue. When your nipple hardens he moves to the other breast and repeats the process. After what feels like a tortuously long time he sucks one nipple into his mouth. It sends a jolt through you and you groan. Your head falls back, pressed against the shower wall and you lift your leg and wrap it around Steve’s waist, pulling him against you.

“Steve,” You breathe, “Let me …”

He pulls away from you and you drop to your knees. You run your tongue up his length, tracing it over the veins and ridges. You take him into your mouth, sucking on the head. His hips move forward and you allow him to push his cock further into you, opening your throat for him. It feels like the amount you can take isn’t as much as what you can’t though. So you use your hands on his shaft and stroke him as you suck and lick and roll your tongue over his dick.

Steve places his hands on the bathroom wall and leans against it as you bring him to orgasm with your mouth.

“Y/N, I’m gonna…” He pants a warning. You increase your speed, sucking harder, forcing as much of him down your throat as you can. You want him to come in your mouth. You want to taste him. Swallow what he can give you.

He comes with a jerk and you drink him down. He pulls you to your feet and crouches in front of you. His tongue slips between your folds and as he runs it up towards your clit you put your leg over his shoulder. He presses his tongue down on your clit. You gasp and he grabs your other leg and lifts you from the floor. You lean back against the wall and grip the shower head to stop you from falling. Steve laps and sucks at your pussy. It’s like he’s paying close attention to every move and sound you make because he goes from moving his mouth around your folds to focused directly on that little mound of nerves that set you off coming into his mouth.

He adjusts you so that you slide down his front, setting you onto your feet. “Wow. That was crazy.” You say.

Steve laughs. “Thanks for trusting me.” He says and kisses you on the top of your head. He grabs your shower puff and squirts some of your blueberry shower gel into it. Slowly and tenderly he washes you. It makes your scalp prickle as he lathers up your body.

“I don’t think I’ve even had an actual boyfriend who did anything like that before.” You breathe.

“I’m sorry to hear that. You deserve to be looked after.” Steve says.

You both finish up the shower. You put on a robe and Steve just stays with his towel wrapped around his waist.

“You hungry?” You ask.

“Starving.”

You put on some coffee and start mixing pancakes. It takes a while because Steve won’t keep his hands off you. He stays close behind you, running his hands over your ass, gripping your waist. He’ll kiss and nuzzle at your neck and randomly spin you to face him so you can kiss as he grinds into you. Finally, you get the mixture ready and you turn on your griddle.

“I can add something to these if you want. I have choc-chips and blueberries.” You offer.

“I should say the blueberries shouldn’t I?” Steve asks.

You shrug. “It’s already fat, sugar and carbs. I think you can do whatever you want at this point.”

“Choc-chips.”

As you cook Steve starts looking around your apartment. “You like bartending?” He asks.

“Not always. The job I have now is good. I’ve just been using it as a way to see the world. Means I can see a place for longer.” You reply.

“How long have you been traveling for?”

You pause and think, serving up a pancake and sliding it over your breakfast bar to him. You pour him a coffee and put the creamer on the counter for him to add himself. “About three years I guess. I liked going around Europe a lot. My visa ran out though, so now I’m just seeing as much of the states as I can. You must have seen a bit of Europe too.”

Steve laughs, but it’s slightly uncomfortable. “It was a little different when I saw it.”

“Shit. Sorry. Of course. That must have been horrible. I couldn’t imagine having to live when you’ve been part of that.” You say. Your words seem to have made it worst though. He darkens. “Sorry. Why am I bringing shit like this up? I’m the worst one-night stand ever.”

Steve walks around the bar into the kitchen. He turns you to face him and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You aren’t a one night stand.”

You shake your head. “That’s not what this is?”

“It might be what this is. It isn’t what you are.” He says. Why do his words both hurt and feel amazing? You don’t feel bad about having casual sex but it’s like he sees you. You aren’t just a hole he can stick his dick into. He sees the person you are. “The things I do… My past…” He pauses and shakes his head.

“You don’t have to…”

“Sometimes the right thing to do isn’t the easiest to live with. You live with it because you have to.” He finishes. He reaches past you, picks up the spatula and flips the pancake on the griddle. “Now I didn’t take off work to dwell on bad things. Happy talk from now on.” His hands go to your face and you kiss. You never want it to end. If you died right now, it would be happy.

He lets you go and you serve up the pancake and make yourself a coffee. You go sit down on the couch and Steve joins you.

“What made you want to travel?” He asks, taking a bite of pancake.

“The world is big, and my life experience was small. I didn’t really have anything to keep me tied down, so why not?” You explain. “It’s been good. You never wanted to travel?”

“I guess it would be good to see the world as a civilian.” He says. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say more and then closes it again.

“I spent some time in Australia. I met these people and we went into the bush. That’s what they call the forest there. Did you know that?” You say. Steve shakes his head. “It’s funny, isn’t it. Going into the bush. Anyway… we found this pond I guess you’d call it. They said it was a billabong. Australian’s are weird. We decided to skinny dip. When we got out, some animal had taken half our clothes. That was a fun return trip.”

Steve starts laughing and you move your feet so they are pressed up against his leg. “What did you do?”

“Well we shared what was still there between us, and we hid behind trees a lot.” You hook your toes into his towel and pull it so it falls loose around him. He smirks at you. “You ever go skinny dipping?”

“Me? No, never.” Steve says. He puts his plate onto the coffee table. He pushes your legs apart and starts kissing up your calves. Each kiss ends with a soft bite. Each bite gets harder the further up he travels.

“Maybe you should.” You say. “Live dangerously.”

He looks up at you. “You don’t think my life has enough danger in it?”

You stab a piece of pancake onto your fork and offer it to him. He takes a bite and you put your plate down next to his. “See that’s different. You go out and do what you do. Save the world. You risk your life sure. Maybe you’ll get injured, maybe you die. You’re still seen as Captain America. You go out and get caught skinny dipping with some friends. Or maybe some lovers even. You can’t physically get hurt. But if you get caught, well then people get to see Steve, don’t they? Maybe they don’t like what they see?”

“I’m not sure that Steve is the kind of guy who goes skinny dipping though.” He says. He runs his face up the inside of your thigh. With his morning stubble, it scratches and you squirm a little.

“Steve?” He looks up at you and smiles. “They say you can’t get sick, is that true?”

“Yes. One of the things the serum did for me.”

You bite your lip and run your fingers down his jaw. “Well, I’m on birth control. If you want to forego any other protection. I’m okay with it. It’s up to you.”

“You’re trusting me with a lot.”

“You’re not trustworthy?” You ask.

“I like to think I am. But you don’t really know me.” He pulls the tie on your robe and pushes it open.

“You don’t know me either. I could be lying about the birth control. I’m not. I think you’re trustworthy. Now it’s in your court to decide if I am. I won’t be offended if you decide I’m not.”

Steve gets up. He picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed, placing you gently on the mattress. You look him over again and feel real trepidation over what you’re about to do. What if he doesn’t fit? What if trying to force him to really hurts?

He climbs between your legs again resuming the little kissing expedition up your legs that he’d started on the couch. Each kiss is, lips followed by the graze of teeth. They make your skin tingle all over, and when he reaches your pussy the last kiss on your thigh is not kiss at all. He bites you, pulling at your flesh with his teeth. You moan and heat floods your cunt.

He runs his nose up between your folds. Its point briefly touches on your clit and you hiss, the muscles in your legs tightening. His tongue flicks over that swollen bundle of nerves sending wave after wave of pleasure through you. Two of his fingers are inserted into your cunt. He curls them stroking them over your internal walls. Teasing over your g-spot. He moves them like he’s trying to coax an orgasm out of you. Beckoning it to him.

You start to writhe and moan under him. Your orgasm builds and you grip the sheets squeezing your eyes closed as you focus on it. “Steve, of fuck! Oh god!” You cry.

“Not yet.” He growls.

You open your eyes and look down at him startled. He is watching you now. He removes his fingers from your cunt only to quickly return them with a third. He strokes them inside you and twists his hand so his knuckles grind against your g-spot. You cry out arching your back.

“Do you like that?” He asks.

“Oh god yes. Please.” You moan.

He spreads his fingers inside you, increasing the pleasantly full sensation inside you. “You feel that?” He asks.

“Yes. Please, Steve. Please.” You plead with him.

“I’m no bigger than that.” He said. “You don’t need to be worried. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Okay.” You whimper. He curls his fingers and returns his mouth to your clit, nibbling on it. His fingers press down on your g-spot and you come, clenching around his fingers.

He removes his hand and crawls up your body, placing kisses at random intervals as he approaches your mouth. When his body is aligned with yours you grab his hair and pull him into a kiss. Your tongue exploring his mouth.

He pulls away from you and you chase him, sucking his bottom lip. He smiles at you and takes your hand guiding it to his cock. He wraps your fingers around his girth.

“You’re in control.” He says, looking deep into your eyes. “Guide me to where it’s comfortable.”

You line his cock up with your entrance and he slowly pushes in. You sigh as he fills you, paying close attention to how his cock feels inside of you. Your head tilts back slightly, your lips parted and he places small kisses along your jaw.

His cock hits a spot where there is a slight sting and your grip tightens around him. He stops pushing and he tilts your face back to his. “There?” he asks.

You let your body adjust and you shake your head. “More.” You breathe.

He pushes in further. You feel him reach that limit where pleasure becomes pain and you stop him. You let his cock go wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He allows you a moment to adjust to him and he begins to thrust.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. He alternates between a gentle, pleasant rhythm allowing you to feel his cock run along the ridges of your cunt, to just pounding into you so you can’t even catch your breath. You feel like you’re about to come undone. Just when you think this is it, nothing can possibly feel any better than Steve Rogers’ dick inside of you, he brings his arm between your bodies and his fingers find your clit.

You come. Explosively. Clinging to him as if he’s somehow stopping you from falling into an abyss. You yell his name, and he bites down on your shoulder, grunting as he spills inside of you.

He slips out of you and collapses down beside you. You link your fingers with his and just lie on your back beside him panting.

“I think you just ruined me for all men, Steve.” You say. “I have to switch teams now. Or maybe just give up sex forever. Because that was it. That was the best sex I’m ever going to have.” Steve starts laughing and he pulls you into his arms. “Don’t say that. We still have most of the afternoon available to us.”

// NEXT

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #angst #mixology #the morning after

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thebluemartini · 5 years

Text

Far From the Shallow - Chapter 4 [Nessian Fic]

TITLE: Far From the Shallow

SYNOPSIS: Post-ACOFAS. As part of a deal with Feyre, Nesta has agreed to live with Cassian in the Illyrian Mountains. However, shortly after her arrival, she receives the startling news that she’s pregnant from one of her one-night stands. While she tries to quickly get a grip on her life, Cassian’s determined to make her see that she’s not facing this alone.

FIC LENGTH: Multi-chapter

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

TAGGING: @dreaming-of-bohemian-nights @queenofillea1 @trash-for-nessian @nestaarcheronwillkillme @my-fan-side @strangeenemy @maastrash @cageddovepoetry @bybooksanddreams @lilbat90 @ritamordio19 @mastercommandercaptain @feysand-dot-acotar @archeron-queen @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @empress-ofbloodshed @there-is-warmth-in-winter @mybbyfeyre @saltydreamcollector @aditiiparasharr @justlikethecheshirecat @mis-lil-red

*This chapter is also posted on AO3 and FF

________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 4: December

December’s arrival brought even colder weather and more snow to the Illyrian Mountains, causing Cassian to pack an abundance of warm clothing and blankets for his visit to the Dunclare camp the following day. One would think a camp offering to let him stay with them for a few days would provide proper bedding, but he was the resented bastard visiting a camp during a tense time. Who knew what they would provide him, so he had to make sure to bring blankets along for himself.

A few days after he had sent the letter that Nesta helped him compose off to the Dunclare camp, the camp’s war-lord, Orion, replied with an invite for Cassian to stay with them during the Winter Solstice celebrations as an act of goodwill. It seemed strange that after this camp had committed the hostile act of leaving dead birds at his cabin, they were now inviting him to celebrate a holiday with them. It left him wondering whether the Dunclare camp really did leave the birds...perhaps a Dunclare camp member acted solo in leaving the dead birds, or it was all a ruse and another camp actually left them…

When he informed Nesta of the reply, she agreed it seemed suspicious, but at least they had agreed to meet. He couldn’t decline, otherwise it would be seen as another slight towards them. He would just have to remain alert during his stay with them.

Unfortunately, this meant he’d be missing the Solstice snowball fight with Rhys and Az this year. Cassian sighed.

Picking up his pack, he made his way downstairs to the living room with the intention of finding at least one more blanket to pack. When he reached the room, he found Nesta sitting on the couch with a book in her hands and mounds of blankets covering her legs.

Ever since she had eaten lunch and dinner with him for the first time last month, she’d gradually begun to spend more and more time outside her room and started joining him for meals. They didn’t always talk during their meals, and if they did, they always bickered about something. Things like her criticizing him for skimping on the chocolate chips in her pancakes because he thought it would be too much sugar for the baby or him nagging her to eat more helpings of food since she was eating for two now.

At least she was interacting with him. It was better than the past year when she was wasting away and hardly ever talking to him.

Occasionally, Emerie would join them for dinner too. Those dinners were usually filled with conversation, and to his surprise, Nesta would make an effort to talk with Emerie.

As he looked over at Nesta on the couch, he was about to ask her why she didn’t have a fire going in the fireplace, but she spoke first as she looked up at him and laid her book aside. “I’m going with you to Dunclare.”

Cassian’s eyes widened as he dropped his pack on the floor. “What?”

Nesta got up off the couch and stood right in front of him. “I’m going with you to Dunclare. You shouldn’t be going alone.”

“But...you’re pregnant,” Cassian stated.

“Yes, but being pregnant doesn’t make me weak,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“That’s not what I’m implying!” he exclaimed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to go, especially considering the fact that you’re carrying a child!”

“It isn’t safe for you to go alone,” she said simply.

“And you actually care about my safety?”

Memories of Nesta calling him to her before he was hit by a blast of light and her shielding his body from the King of Hybern flashed in his mind.

He didn’t know if the Nesta currently standing before him was like the one who did such things. For so long after the war, she didn’t care about anything anymore. Did she care now?

“If they end up killing you, Feyre will probably force me to go live with her,” Nesta answered. “I’d like to avoid that at all costs so someone needs to watch your back.”

“I suppose I should be glad that you at least find me tolerable to live with?”

Nesta simply shrugged. “Anything’s better than living with Feyre.”

“But we didn’t tell Orion you’d be coming. Wouldn’t it be offensive for you to show up unannounced?” he wondered.

“Remember how Emerie said she heard in the taverns that the Illyrians consider me to be your whore? They’ve probably assumed you’ll be bringing your whore along with you anyway.”

Cassian sighed. “I don’t think you should go.”

Nesta crossed her arms against her chest. “Cassian, they threatened both of us with those two birds. I’m going whether you like it or not,” she sternly replied.

“I could easily fly off without you.” Cassian crossed his arms against his chest to match her pose.

“Then I’ll have no choice but to walk to the camp,” Nesta explained. “And you’ll have to deal with the fact that you let a pregnant woman make such a long, rigorous trek in the bitter cold.”

Cassian groaned as Nesta smirked deviously at him.

He knew there was nothing he could say to convince her not to go at this point. Her mind was set. He had no choice but to give in.

“We depart midday tomorrow,” he said in defeat.

________________________________________________________________

After stashing a few blades in his Illyrian leathers, Cassian made his way down the stairs.

Standing near the front door was Nesta all bundled up with her pack on the floor beside her, next to his own.

He had hardly gotten any sleep the night before, worrying over how unsafe it was for her to go with him. Illyrians were very protective and concerned over their own kind...they weren’t exactly friendly with non-Illyrians. It was yet another thing he would have to work on with them.

He was also baffled by the fact that Nesta willingly wanted to go somewhere with him and would allow him to fly her there. He definitely wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to tease her about this.

“Are you ready?” he asked her.

Nesta nodded.

“Did you pack your prenatal potion?” he asked, referring to the medicine he knew the healer had recently given her.

“Yes,” Nesta answered.

“And are you feeling okay? No queasiness?”

Nesta nodded. “I haven't had any morning sickness this week.”

“And you’re sure you still want to go to Dunclare?”

“Yes,” she answered firmly.

“Okay,” Cassian said before bending down to wrap one of his pack’s straps around Nesta’s bag to buckle them and attach them together. “I’m going to need your help strapping this to my back...because of the wings and all,” he added with a mischievous grin.

Nesta’s previously seemingly calm face quickly transformed into a wary one.

“I’m going to hold the pack against my back, and you’re going to have to wrap these straps around my shoulder and armpit and buckle them, then adjust them so they’re tight against my body,” Cassian explained as he gestured to the straps on their packs.

Nesta gave a slow nod of understanding. She didn’t look pleased at all. Cassian nearly laughed as he flipped the packs over his head and onto his back, holding it there as he waited for Nesta to do as he instructed.

Looking uneasy, Nesta reached beneath his left arm to grab hold of the straps and proceeded to wrap them around his shoulder and fasten them. The action forced her to run her hand against his body in multiple spots, giving him a tingling sensation even through his thick Illyrian leathers. To be touched by her was a rare occurrence...the last time she did so was when she wrapped her hands around his neck when they flew home after they visited his birthplace and his mother’s grave.

He imagined touching him must have been affecting her in some way as well, considering he could no longer hear her breathing. Was she seriously not trying to inhale his scent as she stood this close to him?

“Sweetheart, I know the sight of me leaves you breathless, but you’ll die if you don’t breathe,” Cassian joked.

Nesta huffed as she moved to wrapping the strap around his other shoulder and tried to speedily accomplish her task. “Don’t think so highly of yourself. Your stench is so bad, I can’t breathe,” she coolly replied.

The devilish look in his eyes didn’t disappear from his eyes as she made her comment. He knew her words weren’t true. He had bathed early that morning.

“I just bathed this morning.”

“It doesn’t smell like it.”

“Then perhaps when we get to Dunclare you can help me properly bathe, since I clearly have been doing it all wrong if I still smell.”

Nesta looked horrified at his suggestion. She had just finished tightening the strap and immediately stepped away from him. “Can we just get going already?” she said impatiently.

“So eager to help me bathe I see,” he commented as he let go of the pack at his back. Nesta groaned in response.

While he still was wary of her was going with him, at least he got some fun of his own in teasing her.

He opened the front door and gestured for her to walk outside. Once she did so, he closed the door behind him and held open his arms for her. “Let’s go,” he said seriously.

Nesta wrapped her scarf over her mouth and brought her hood up over her face. After slipping on her gloves, she walked up to Cassian, and he picked her up to carry her in his arms.

Together, they soared toward Dunclare.

_______________________________________________________________

The journey lasted less than an hour before they finally landed outside the main cabin of the Dunclare camp. Standing there waiting for them was the camp’s leader, Orion. Cassian could see his smug smile radiating from his face even before they descended.

The grin left Cassian feeling very uneasy.

That grin however did slightly falter when his eyes fell upon Nesta in his arms. Gently, Cassian set her upon the ground and ensured she was balanced before letting go of her.

“Cassian,” Orion casually said in greeting, declining to refer to him as General Commander. “I see you brought your witch with you to be your bodyguard?”

Recalling the moment last month when Nesta told Emerie she was a witch, Cassian figured she would want to be seen as someone menacing and not to be messed with...even if she wasn’t really a witch.

“Indeed,” he replied with a grin. With a quick glance toward Nesta, he found a satisfied, devious smile upon her face. “I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.”

“It is no trouble at all,” he answered calmly as the cold wind blew his hair back and away from his tattooed face. “We only have one tent prepared for you and do not have another to spare. But I assume one tent will suffice for you and your...companion?”

The Illyrians all consider me to be your whore, he recalled Nesta’s words.

Now their sharing of a tent would do nothing to destroy that notion, but what else could they do?

“That will be fine,” Nesta piped in. “My name is Nesta, by the way. I believe you must be Orion?”

Her words dripped with fake cheeriness, but perhaps only he could tell it was fake because Cassian was more familiar with her.

“Yes,” Orion said in a clipped tone.

And that was all he said to her. He didn’t even offer to shake her hand.

“I’ll have your belongings brought to your tent,” Orion said as another Illyrian approached them and took the pack from Cassian after he removed it from his back. “Since it’s been a long time since you’ve last been to our camp, I’ll give you a tour of it to reacquaint yourself. Then, we’ll sit down for lunch.”

Cassian certainly did not care for Orion’s jab with him emphasizing a long time in his statement, nor him disregarding Nesta. It appeared things were going to be chippy between them already…

But he kept his rage inside and instead gave him a firm nod in agreement.

_______________________________________________________________

The afternoon indeed consisted of a tour of the camp and lunch, but it also consisted of Orion constantly ignoring Nesta’s presence as well as throwing snide remarks Cassian’s way regarding the inferiority of his birth. However, Cassian refused to take the bait for these comments or Orion’s lack of reply to Nesta’s questions about the camp.

Well, it was more like Nesta would give him a look when it seemed like he was about to unleash his anger on Orion, and that look from her made him pause and hold his tongue.

In time, he would make Orion pay for his words and actions, but for now they would play nice with the hopes of talking about possible reforms later during their visit.

He was just relieved that Orion had dropped them off at their tent and left them to get refreshed before the evening’s Solstice celebrations. At least they would have a short reprieve from his insolence.

After he pulled back the tent flap and gestured for Nesta to enter before him, he found the tent to be a bit more extravagant than expected. It wasn’t a simple tent. This one actually had a table, a chair, a tall mirror, and a bed.

Nesta glanced around the tent and also seemed to be amazed it wasn’t just a bedroll upon the ground. She walked straight toward the bed and laid down upon it. “That man’s a prick,” she said as she rested her head back against the pillow.

Cassian chuckled. “You got that right. I’m shocked you managed to keep asking him questions in such a cheery voice. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at him and let out a “hmph.” “I was trying to help you by not straining the relationship with them any further.”

Who knew that Nesta Archeron would actually want to help him...let alone actually admit to it. He’s not sure what precisely made her want to him help him, but he couldn’t help but marvel at it.

“I appreciate that,” he genuinely said as he smiled at her.

Nesta closed her eyes. “By the way, you’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” she told him.

“Because you’re afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” he replied cheekily. The minute Orion had informed them there would only be one tent, he knew Nesta certainly wasn’t going to share a bed with him. And he wasn’t going to let a pregnant female sleep on the floor either.

If her eyes were open, he was sure he would’ve seen them roll at his comment.

“Instead of deluding yourself, perhaps you could clean up for Solstice while I take a brief nap,” she said before yawning.

“Alright,” he said without a fight, choosing instead to let her have the chance to sleep for a little while.

A bowl of water sat on a small table within the tent. Stepping in front of it, he splashed some water on his face and dabbed it with a towel. Then he stood before the tall mirror and ran his hand through his hair until he deemed he looked decent enough before sitting down at the table.

He tried to process all that occurred that day...and not focus on each breath that Nesta took. But with the day’s long journey plus the exhaustion from having to be in Orion’s company, Cassian soon found himself falling asleep in the chair with his head lolling forward.

It was only when he heard some rustling later on that he woke up. As he slowly opened his eyes, he found Nesta crouched over and rummaging through her pack that was at the foot of the bed. Upon finding her black hair ribbon, she stood back up and faced the mirror.

Her hair had already been partially braided in the front, and she used the ribbon to pull her hair into a bun at the back of it. The black ribbon matched the simple black dress she was now wearing. His eyes scanned over her body, and he realized that for the first time in a long while, her clothing was now hugging her body as opposed to simply hanging off her previously bony and alarmingly thin body.

She looked radiant.

“You look beautiful,” Cassian said quietly, but Nesta flinched, clearly taken by surprise that he had awoken.

Nesta shook her head as she went back to staring in the mirror. “I don’t need your false words of flattery to make me feel like I’m not going look like an inflated balloon soon,” she remarked as she ran her hands over her stomach which was ever so slightly beginning to show signs of life within her. At her waist, her dress appeared to be a bit tight.

“I’m not lying. This is the healthiest you’ve looked in over a year,” he said, unable to hide the awe is his voice. He straightened up in his chair as he continued to gaze at her. “We’ll probably have to go buy you some new clothes soon. We could make a trip to the shops of Velaris, if you want.”

“Maybe,” Nesta said pensively as she continued to stare at her waist in the mirror, lightly tugging at her dress as she did so. With one last glance at herself in the mirror, she grabbed her coat and bundled herself up again. “Are you ready?” she asked as she looked over at him.

Cassian sighed. “To deal with that twit? No,” he replied as he slowly stood up and headed over to the tent’s entrance and pulled back the flap for her to walk out. “After you, sweetheart.”

Instead of rolling her eyes at his use of the word “sweetheart” - in fact, it seemed like she was finally getting used to or at least tolerating the term - she coolly strode out of the tent, and Cassian followed after her.

_______________________________________________________________

As they approached the cabin of the Illyrian family hosting the Solstice celebrations, they could hear loud music being played as well as boisterous laughter and chatter.

Her and Cassian had agreed en route that they should try splitting up at the party. It would give them the opportunity to talk with the Illyrians and possibly find out if they all had issues with Cassian and her or if it was simply the camp’s leaders who had problems with them.

“If anyone so much looks at you the wrong way, you have my permission to drop the fake-cheerful Nesta act and unleash your wrath upon them. Consequences be damned,” Cassian stated seriously when they reached the front door.

“As tempting as that is, we do need to consider the consequences if we expect any changes to be made,” Nesta replied. “And I don’t ever need your permission to do anything.”

“Apologies. I misspoke. I just don’t want you to hold back in case you...were holding back on because of me,” Cassian stated awkwardly as he looked at her as if she were some enigma that he couldn’t figure out. She had certainly shocked him by insisting she come here with him. It probably puzzled him further that she kept trying to help him.

But all of this wasn’t just for him...it was mostly for the growing babe within her. She needed to be a good mother for the child. Her track record of being able to take care of others as well as herself was already terrible and she needed to rectify it.

A few years back, she had failed her own sisters by doing nothing as their father wasted away in his own pity. It had been up to Feyre to provide for the family and take care of them.

As the eldest child, it should’ve been Nesta.

And now...for the past few months Nesta was still being taken care of by her sister through her abundance of wealth while Nesta had been doing nothing. It was a repeat of what had happened before.

How could I let this happen again?

And since being in the Illyrian Mountains, Cassian was helping to take care of her by letting her stay in his cabin, making pancakes when she craved them, ensuring she had her prenatal tonic....

And what had she been doing this whole time?

Nothing.

That “nothing” needed to come to an end. She could no longer just sit by and let whatever happen to her. She needed to regain control. She was responsible for someone else now, after all.

Just like her father’s lack of action threatened her family’s lives...this godforsaken camp had threatened her and her child. They may not have known she was with child, but they’d both been threatened all the same.

This time she would not stand the threat.

Without even replying to Cassian’s statement, she took a deep breath that she could see escape her mouth in the freezing weather. She then yanked open the door, and the sounds of the party were so loud, it would be impossible to hear Cassian if he said anything to her.

Illyrians were everywhere. The cabin was packed full of them. In the main room, couples were dancing to the jovial tunes played by the lutists, flutists, and harpists. Ahead, some hungry Illyrians surrounded a large, long table with various foods and drinks piled upon it.

There was so much laughter and chatter in the air.

That is, until Nesta and Cassian passed them by.

As they walked through the crowd, many of them would pause mid-sentence to turn their head and stare at them. Some looked afraid, while others were stern and annoyed. Nesta in turn gave them a glare that told them to stop staring.

The look sent many of them to immediately start their respective conversations up again, continuing where they had left off and avoiding Nesta altogether.

She could sense that Cassian was no longer following behind her. With a quick glance behind her, she saw he had stopped to talk with someone. He met her eyes and signaled for her to continue to explore the party without him.

It was a relief that Cassian trusted she could handle herself.

Striding forward, she headed toward the coat rack to drop off her jacket, then proceeded to the food table. As soon as she reached it, those who were there to grab some of the appetizers immediately left the table.

Nesta let out a small groan. She probably wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone at this party and would be completely useless.

It seemed she and the baby were quite hungry, so she went ahead and grabbed herself a plate of food before slowly making her way through the hordes of people to the dance area.

As she watched the couples twirl around the room, she couldn’t help but be reminded of all the balls she had gone to back when her father was a wealthy merchant. She would be obsessed with wearing the prettiest gown and having her hair done in a special braid. Appearances had meant everything to her. It was the way you maintained a high status in the village, and therefore attracted the attention of wealthy men.

But now...she simply no longer cared about those things. Here she was at a ball, pregnant, arriving with a male who was neither her husband nor lover, and in a very simple gown.

Her dead, former human self would probably be rolling in her grave. At least her hair was arranged neatly upon her head.

At one point, she stopped and watched the Illyrians dance for a while as she nibbled on her food and lost herself in her reverie.

“You look like you could use a dance,” a voice smoothly said beside her sometime later. “Would you like to join me?”

Nesta turned her head and found an attractive, lean Illyrian male with short dark hair and blue eyes standing there with his hand held out for her to grab.

After swallowing the bit of fruit within her mouth, she gave him a steely look. “And what about me exactly says I could use a dance?”

“You’re standing here alone, looking ravishing, in a dress that deserves to be whirled around,” he replied with a sly grin.

What a ridiculous line.

But she had to remember that right now she wasn’t herself. If this was some party she was willing to be a part of, she wouldn’t have accepted such an offer. But here, she was acting as an emissary of sorts. She needed to find out what he thought of Cassian and the other camps.

Duty called.

Before she could find a spot to place her plate, the male grabbed it from her and set it down on a random table before grabbing hold of her hand.

She held in her frustration at his presumptuousness. Normally, she would have thrown a fit over the fact that he didn’t even wait for her to agree to the dance before grabbing her hand.

He pulled her to the dance floor, placing one hand at her waist. Nesta carefully rested her free hand upon his shoulder, and the male proceeded to lead her in a dance.

As they spun about the room, Nesta was eager to see what kind of information she could find out about this male who was brave enough to speak to her, let alone dance with her.

“Everyone else here is either afraid or repulsed by me. Why aren’t you?” she asked bluntly.

The male chuckled to himself. “Because I know there’s nothing to fear. And I know there’s a fun side to you.”

Nesta gave him a perplexed look. What was this chump going on about?

“And how would you know that?”

“You don’t remember me, Nesta? Perhaps I can refresh your memory,” he whispered and before she could even realize what was happening, he leaned forward and slowly planted kisses along her jawline.

Aghast, Nesta froze. As he pulled back, her eyes narrowed in fury, and she inhaled his alcohol-laced breath.

Suddenly the smell of alcohol and the touch of a male brought her back to months ago when she would spend every night in a seedy bar, drinking until she couldn’t think at all, and searching for a male to come back with her to apartment to spend the night with her.

The reason she was pregnant in the first place. This could’ve been the father of her child for all she knew.

The male gently pushed her to get her out of her daze and to dance again. Nesta shook her head as she slowly moved her legs again. As she gazed over the male’s shoulder, she caught Cassian grumpily ripping a stein of alcohol out of Orion’s outstretched hand and downing it.

Nesta looked back at the male she was dancing with, tilting her head so she could analyze his face and features. Had he come to Velaris and been a male she slept with? She couldn’t remember a single face of any of the men she’d bedded.

None of them were memorable.

Not even the fact that he was Illyrian brought back any memory of him. There were a handful of Illyrians in Velaris. And if she ever happened to have an infuriating encounter with Cassian, she would try to seek one of them out to take to her bed. Because she knew he would find out about it.

How the hell could someone like her be a good mother when she could be so vindictive?

But she needed to regain composure. She couldn’t dwell on those worries. Not now.

“I can’t say I remember you,” she stated casually as she started dancing more smoothly. “I’m guessing we met in Velaris?”

He nodded, with that idiotic grin still upon his face.

“What is your name?” she asked, though she usually never bothered to know the names of the males she slept with.

“Mikal.”

“Sorry, I don’t recall ever meeting you,” she replied snobbily.

“Perhaps a repeat of our night together will jog your memory,” he purred in her ear as he rubbed his hand against her waist.

Nesta closed her eyes. These touches from a male she hardly knew...This was too much for her. All it did was remind her of her longing to escape.

That alcohol she smelled on his breath...it still called to her. Taunted her. Told her she was useless and shouldn’t worry about living. She should just waste her life away with drinks and males. Because what did it matter…

It was easier to resist the alcohol when it wasn’t within reach. But now...here...she could have some...

Focus. Focus. Focus, she chanted under her breath as Mikal twirled her around.

But now the movements were dizzying and that resurrecting desire to escape made her want to leave the dance area as soon as possible.

“I...I need to sit down,” she announced abruptly, dropping Mikal’s hand and rushing out of the dance area.

Walking through all the people, she eventually found an empty chair along the wall to sit in. She took a deep breath and scanned the room, searching for Cassian again.

But this time, she couldn’t find him.

Instead, Mikal found her and shoved a glass into her hands. “You should have a drink.”

She had hoped it was just a glass of water, but she took one whiff of it and deduced it was some kind of whisky. Once again, the smell was tempting her to go back to her listless life and just forget everything. Just live life numbly. It was easier that way.

But, as the healer had warned her, the alcohol could harm the baby.

The only thing she had in this life was this baby. She could not risk hurting it...

But that whisky scent still called to her.

She needed to get out of here. She wished she was stronger than this, but she wasn’t. Not yet at least.

She needed to find Cassian.

“Get away from me,” she said to Mikal and shoved the glass back into his hands.

“I’m sure you’ll feel much better once you have a sip, darling,” Mikal stated as he gently tried to give it back to her.

“I said get away from me,” Nesta fired back harshly, glaring up at him towering over her. “And don’t ever call me darling. You are nothing more than a piece of dust to me.”

Mikal glanced around, as if wondering if anyone witnessed the scene that was bubbling to break out. But no one seemed to notice anything amiss as their spat was covered up by the volume of the revel. With a shrug, he walked away from her.

Finally.

Nesta took another deep breath and glanced around the party once more.

Where was Cassian?

She stood up to go where she had left her coat, ignoring the faces of those ogling at her as she passed. Grabbing her coat, she decided to head out the back door of the cabin, craving the fresh winter air to rid her of the smells of alcohol.

When she stepped outside, there was a large bonfire blazing. A few Illyrians were gathered around it, chatting amongst themselves as they threw back their beers.

But there was one standing alone, staring deep into the flames with his arms crossed against his chest and an angered look upon his face.

Looking nervously at the fire, she gulped. She already had to battle the temptation of the alcohol. She didn’t want to have to hear the cracking of the fire too...it would be too much. Thankfully the chatty and drunk Illyrians helped mask the noise, but she didn’t dare step any closer to the fire.

“Cassian,” she called out. “I’m heading back to the tent.”

Cassian looked up at her then, with his eyes full of agitation. He glanced at the nearby Illyrians, then strode through the snow toward her.

“Are you taking your friend back with you?” he asked rather gruffly when he reached her. “Are you going to tell me to make sure I don’t come back for a while?”

“What are you talking about?” she wondered aloud in a voice that threatened to burst into rage.

Cassian shook his head in disbelief. “I thought things were different now. I thought you honestly wanted to come with me so you could help me. But now I see you just wanted to come with me so you could find another male to bed,” he replied, clearly anguished. “You used me,” he added in a whisper.

“Things are different now, you big oaf! I did come to help you!” she shot back.

“Sure didn’t look like it,” Cassian was quick to fire back at her, the fury in his eyes matching the blaze of the fire behind him.

“Ugh! You fool, I do not want to sleep with him! If I wanted to find a male to sleep with, I would’ve found one in Windhaven while you were staying here! But I came here to help you by trying to talk to an Illyrian as we had agreed to do. But I had to order him to get away from me because he was making me uncomfortable. And I came here to find you to tell you that I wanted to go back to the tent because all the alcohol here was becoming too tempting!” She yelled back, her body shaking with anger that Cassian would assume the worst in her.

The anger inhabiting Cassian seemed to fade and his formerly harsh face softened. He dropped his hands to his sides. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” she shouted emphatically.

He gazed deep into her eyes, as if searching for the truth there too. Seemingly finding her to be speaking honestly, his body relaxed and he hesitantly reached forward to gently grab both of her hands. And she let him...His large hands were rough and calloused as they encompassed her small, smooth ones.

“I’m sorry, Nesta. I’m sorry I was angry at you and assumed…” he began with his face looking concerned and apologetic. “I just saw him...kissing your jaw,” he added with disgust. “And I was…upset,” he finished hesitantly.

“Why?”

“Because...I was afraid the post-war Nesta had returned,” he stated seriously.

“Well...she hasn’t,” Nesta replied quietly.

“I’m sorry I doubted it,” he said with a soft smile and squeezed her hands.

Nesta immediately released his hands. The touch had simply felt...too intimate.

But as soon as she let go, she already missed the feeling of them. Ignoring it, she shoved her hands into her pockets.

“Anyway, I’m going back to our tent now,” Nesta said awkwardly.

“I’ll go back with you,” Cassian casually replied. “I’m starting to get a headache from trying to deal with these drunk boneheads. We can try talking to them again during their Solstice feast tomorrow.”

Nesta simply nodded, and the two of them walked through the darkness back to their tent in silence.

________________________________________________________________

When they reached the tent, Cassian immediately began pulling the blankets out of his pack and laid them on the ground next to the bed, while Nesta gathered her nightclothes and went behind the folding screen on the other side of the bed to change.

She stepped from behind the screen to find the enormous body of Cassian nearly taking up all of the floor, with his wings tightly against his own body since there was no room for them to really rest anywhere.

Seeing that his eyes were closed, she blew out the lantern that sat on the table after packing her dress. Crawling into bed, her body shivered from the cold.

“Goodnight, Nesta,” Cassian called out from the floor.

“Goodnight, Cassian,” she replied as she stared up at the roof of the tent in the darkness.

She closed her eyes, but soon found her preoccupied mind was going to prevent her from falling asleep right away.

Here she was, lying comfortably (but still freezing cold) in a bed...while the male who opened up his home to her and so far had looked out for her during their stay in the Illyrian Mountains slept on the hard ground in this cold weather.

Was she really that heartless? No wonder Cassian assumed the worst in her.

Having him so close to her would be...unnerving. But his body heat could also help warm her…

Would she want to be an unmerciful parent and influence her child to be the same?

Nesta sighed. “Cassian,” she said in defeat. “Get in here.”

“What?”

“Get in this bed before I change my mind,” she demanded, and she heard Cassian shuffle around the floor and picking up his blankets to bring with him to the bed.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he remarked cheekily as he laid the blankets on top of the others on the bed before sliding in the bed himself.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m using you for your warmth...but don’t you dare touch me!”

Cassian quickly made sure to pull back his wings so they didn’t rest against Nesta’s side. “But it’ll be much warmer if I hold you.” His eyes were glinting with amusement.

“I’m not that desperate for warmth.”

Cassian chuckled as he closed his eyes. “Thank you, Nesta,” he whispered.

Nesta turned on her side, away from Cassian, as she yawned. “You’re welcome,” she replied softly as she fell asleep to the sounds of Cassian’s steady breathing.

_______________________________________________________________

An hour or so into her sleep, Nesta felt a huge weight suddenly rest against her back, awaking her from her slumber.

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Cassian, I told you you aren’t allowed to touch me,” she rasped and elbowed him in the chest.

The lunk didn’t even move, nor did he even awake.

“Cassian!” Nesta exclaimed in a hushed tone. “Move over!”

He still didn’t stir. Nesta sat up and turned to face him. His face was buried in the pillow, and the rise and fall of his chest seemed...awfully slower than it was before.

Alarmed, Nesta immediately grabbed hold of his arm and tried to vigorously shake him awake.

“Cassian!” Nesta said over and over as she proceeded to try smacking at his face and swatting at his chest.

No reaction.

Suddenly, Nesta heard a rustling and whispers right outside the tent.

“Cassian should be knocked out by now...he drank quite a bit of the drugged ale after he saw you with his whore,” one voice said.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t get her to drink the whisky, but she should be easy to take out,” a voice that sounded similar to Mikal’s stated.

Nesta’s heartbeat quickened as her mind raced to find possible solutions for getting out of...whatever was about to happen.

She quickly laid back down on the bed and closed her eyes to pretend she was asleep. Better to take them by surprise if she was going to attempt to attack them.

She just hoped she’d sense them coming before they attacked her.

She heard footsteps slowing walking through their tent and approaching their bed. “Goodbye, Cassian,” the unfamiliar voice whispered and Nesta shot up in bed to find the man holding a dagger that he was preparing to plunge in Cassian’s chest.

Nesta quickly shot out her hand to yank the man’s wrist away from Cassian’s body.

And as she did so...something strange occurred.

It was like the sounds of everything around her - the wind, Cassian, and these males’ breathing - all faded to the background. Instead, she could distinctly hear the sound of a heartbeat - one that wasn’t her own - and it was thrumming...within her.

Her hands suddenly felt like they were burning. At the spot where her hand met the male’s wrist, his skin as well as her hand seemed to be aglow with hot, raging power. The male released the dagger from his hand, and with his free hand tried to reach up to his throat because...he was suffocating. Nesta quickly picked up the abandoned dagger with her free hand.

Was she...doing this? Was she killing this man?

Suddenly, Mikal pushed her away from the other male and sent her falling off the bed and the dagger flew out of her hand. Mikal held a dagger of his own and prepared to stab her with it. Nesta quickly sat up and prayed that whatever had just happened with the other male would occur once again as she lunged to grab hold of his wrist.

Mikal froze in place, and all the noises around them faded away as Nesta heard the sound of his heart pumping. The dagger fell out of Mikal’s hand shortly after the heat from her hand intensified. His breathing slowed and he began to choke. Nesta released him, and he immediately dropped to the ground.

Nesta stared at their unconscious bodies, unsure of what just happened. Breathing heavily, she leaned over them, checking for signs that they were still breathing. Even though part of her wished they were dead, she knew that for Cassian’s sake, they would need to be alive. Or else their deaths could mean more damage with his relations with the Illyrians.

She lifted her hands and stared at them for a moment, wondering what kind of power they possessed. Then she laid one of her palms against Mikal’s chest to see if he was still alive...while also hoping she didn’t kill him.

Her hand didn’t get warm as it did before, and she didn’t clearly hear his heartbeat as she had before. But she did detect that he was still alive.

She then reached over to the other male’s chest to touch him. Once again, nothing unusual occurred as it had a few minutes ago. But he was still breathing.

Picking the daggers up off the ground, she stood up and placed them on the edge of the bed. Then she stood before Cassian’s unconscious body, hoping he would wake.

“Cassian,” she called out.

She was willing to risk touching the two intruders, knowing what they had intended to do, despite not knowing if whatever power she had would kill them.

But touching Cassian to try to shake him, she did not want to risk. Instead, she would just pray he would awake.

She called out his name a few more times, but to no avail. The only comfort she received was seeing the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Turning back toward the Illyrian males on the floor, she realized she needed to do something about them and ensure they would not attack them again.

Digging through her pack, she found two of her hair ribbons. She kneeled down beside the two Illyrians and flipped them on her stomachs. Then, with the ribbons, she tightly tied the man’s wrists behind their backs.

Once she finished, Nesta sat on the bed beside Cassian and continued to wait.

And wait.

Nesta briefly wondered where the ridiculous power had come from. But she had no answers and didn’t want to dwell on it. She could not afford to have yet one more thing to worry about nor would she be able to stand the fact that there was another thing about her that was out of her control.

The thought normally would have angered her. But right now, she was terrified that Cassian would not wake up.

Her body and baby wanted her to sleep, but she could not. Not with three passed-out Illyrians lying around her, with only one that she wanted to see wake up.

She wasn’t what sure would happen if the other two awoke. Or if anyone else would be sent to kill her and Cassian. Grabbing the daggers, she moved them closer to her body.

Suddenly, a spasm of coughing erupted from Cassian’s mouth, causing Nesta to nearly jump. But out of instinct, she briefly yanked at his arm to get him to sit up. Once he did so, the coughing continued and he leaned forward off the edge of the bed between his legs as he began to vomit.

Nesta, now sitting behind him, pulled back his hair as he threw up.

And continued to throw up.

Nesta’s relief at seeing him wake up transformed back into concern when it seemed like he would not be able to stop vomiting.

She was so focused on helping him, she didn’t even notice Orion stroll into their tent, carrying a dagger of his own.

It was only when she spotted the glint of the dagger out of the corner of her eye when it was about to strike her that she dropped Cassian’s hair and grabbed Orion’s wrist instead.

And just like that, the heat within her palm and fingers returned instantly to match her rage. As she heard his heartbeat slow down, Orion’s eyes widened and he released his dagger.

Nesta yanked his arm to pull him closer to her. With his face right in front hers, she glowered at him. “Despite the bloodied ravens threat, we came here with the understanding that you would be willing to discuss the current issues,” she growled at him while he tried to scramble and reach up toward his neck. “And yet, here we are, trying to not get murdered! You have broken our trust, and we will never deal kindly with you again. I’ve left you and your cronies over there alive, but if you betray us again, you will have me to deal with and I will not hold back like I am now,” she threatened him gravely right before he fainted on the floor.

As soon as he fell, Nesta turned back to Cassian whose retching appeared to be subsiding. She resumed holding back his hair.

“What happened?” he raspily got out once he finally stopped heaving.

“I’ll tell you the full story later, but they drugged you with the ale, then tried to kill us. We need to get out of here. Now,” she said with a pointed look at the unconscious bodies in their tent.

Cassian nodded. While Nesta got up to gather their belongings and stepped around the passed out Illyrians, Cassian lethargically got up to drink some water that was on the nearby table.

As soon as their few items were packed and she was bundled up, Nesta gestured for Cassian to follow her outside the tent. At a sluggish pace, he went after her.

Throwing the packs onto her own back, she looked up at Cassian. “You’re clearly not well enough to fly right now. So let’s just start walking first. Do you know the way?”

Cassian nodded and strolled forward so he was walking with Nesta walking beside him. “Now tell me everything that happened.”

As they stomped through the snow in the darkness, Nesta launched into the story of what had transpired that evening.

Except she omitted the parts where she felt a burning sensation when she held their wrists and heard their heartbeat slow down. Instead, she said she managed to shove them to the ground and their heads hitting the ground knocked them out.

Once she finished the story, Cassian let out a growl in anger and swore under his breath.

“Wait,” he suddenly said. “How did you manage to shove them all to the ground when they had daggers in their hands?”

“I…” Nesta began, but trailed off when she realized she didn’t know what to say without revealing the truth. She didn’t want to face the fact that she had some power that she didn’t know about nor know how to use. And she certainly didn’t want Cassian forcing her to try to find out.

She didn’t want to hear that she probably really was a witch.

“I mean, I know a glare from you can stun people, but I didn’t think its power was so strong it stopped people from stabbing you,” Cassian joked. “But really, how did you do it?”

Nesta just shrugged. “I was just quicker than them, I guess.”

Cassian smiled at her. “You are a wonder.”

Nesta was thankful for the darkness around them to hide the slight blush that surely was on her face.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he added. “Again.”

“And you almost didn’t let me come with you,” she remarked smugly.

“You were almost hurt too. My concerns were justified,” he insisted. “But I’m relieved you were there and that we’re both safe.”

Nesta let out a low huff. “Too bad relations with Dunclare have worsened.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cassian said. “They’re the ones who attacked first.”

“But no one else there witnessed that. They might start spreading word that we attacked first.”

Cassian sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “We’ll figure it out.”

Together, they walked in silence for a while. When the sun had begun to rise, they estimated they had walked for about a mile. Cassian appeared to be back to normal as he started moving at his usual fast pace.

He suddenly stopped and turned toward Nesta. “Okay, I’m feeling fine. Let’s fly.”

Fear took hold of Nesta as she glanced down at her hands.

What if she hurt him by holding onto him? Grabbing his hair and briefly yanking his arm earlier had been fine, but…

But it was a long flight. She would have her hands wrapped around his neck for a long period of time. Could she really risk it? With this power she did not understand?

The flight to Dunclare had been fine. But why did it surface this evening?

Cassian reached out and slid the packs off of Nesta’s back and gestured for her to strap them onto is.

Very slowly, she followed his unspoken request, but she was extremely careful not to let her hands touch Cassian for more than a second.

Once they were strapped on him, he held out his arms, waiting for Nesta to step into his reach so he could pick her up.

“Are you sure you’re feeling fine?” she asked.

“Yes,” he insisted gently as his signature glint of amusement appeared in his eyes. “Are you really anxious about me holding you again?”

“Of course not,” she immediately replied. The comment caused her to stride toward him instantly to prove to him she wasn’t anxious, and Cassian proceeded to lift her up in his arms, with one arm beneath her legs and the other supporting her back.

But Nesta refused to place her hands around his neck. Instead, she crossed them against her chest and hid her hands beneath her arms.

“Aren’t you going to hold on?” Cassian wondered with a quizzical look.

“No.”

Cassian frowned. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.”

“Are you seriously so repulsed by me that you don’t even want to touch me?”

“No,” Nesta quickly replied but realized she probably should have lied to make things easier. Then maybe he would’ve stopped asking questions.

“Then what’s wrong, Nes?” he asked, exasperated.

“Well, for one thing, you’re still calling me ‘Nes!’” Nesta replied, frustrated.

Cassian gave her a stern look, knowing she was trying to avoid the question. He waited for her to answer it.

Nesta took a deep breath. “If my hands touch you, I could hurt you.”

“I know you probably spend half your time around me resisting the urge to strangle me, but I feel pretty confident that you’ll be able to continue resisting that urge during this flight,” Cassian said.

Nesta sighed. “No, that’s not it.”

Cassian stared at her and leaned his face down closer to hers. “Then what is it, Nesta?”

She turned her face away from him and looked out into the wilderness. It probably would be best for him to know what really happened anyway, especially since the Dunclare Illyrians probably definitely thought she was a witch now.

Taking another deep breath, she closed her eyes as she recalled what had occurred. “When I touched those males’ wrists, this...power came out of my hands, and all I could hear was the sound of their heartbeats, and how they slowed down the longer I held onto their arms.”

Cassian’s eyes widened. “What?”

Nesta turned her head back to face him but said nothing, not really knowing what else to say.

“Has this ever happened before?” he asked.

Nesta shook her head. “This was the first time.”

“Hmm,” Cassian said while looking deep in thought. “Maybe we can talk to Amren…”

“No,” Nesta interjected. Amren was one of the ones who sent her off to the Illyrian Mountains. And she certainly wasn’t going to let another member of the silly Inner Circle know she was pregnant. She was only slightly starting to show now, but at this point in the pregnancy, other fae who already knew her scent could smell the unfamiliar one of her child’s intertwined with hers, according to one of the pregnancy books Cassian had given her.

“Why not?”

“No one else can know I am pregnant,” Nesta firmly replied, hoping he got the hint that she didn’t want to discuss it any further.

“But why did this power only show up just now?” he wondered aloud.

“I. Don’t. Know. Let’s just start flying as we think about this, all right?” she said, feeling impatient.

“Well I don’t think you’d harm me if you held on to me. It was fine yesterday,” he noted nonchalantly. “And if something does happen, then we’d both plummet to our deaths. We’d go together.”

Just like how we almost went together at the hands of the King of Hybern, Nesta thought. The memory sent a shiver down her spine.

“Just start flying, you dolt,” Nesta remarked, keeping her arms crossed against her chest.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Fine. Be stubborn. But you’re going to feel even more terrified to be flying and not holding on to something.”

“Just go,” Nesta demanded.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

Nesta groaned as Cassian soared into the sky.

As soon as he was high in the air, flying at a comfortable speed, Cassian’s wings suddenly seemed to stop flapping. At the lack of motion, Cassian and Nesta began to fall through the sky...quickly.

Instinctively, Nesta screamed and wrapped her arms around Cassian’s neck.

And suddenly, Cassian’s wings began to flap again, and they were smoothly flying upwards once more.

Nesta’s heart raced out of terror, but it quickly turned to rage as she heard Cassian chuckling.

“You did that on purpose?!” she shouted, upon realizing that Cassian was clearly all right if he was able to laugh about it.

“See? Your hands are on me, and I’m fine,” he said. “There is nothing to worry about.”

“Well, now I am resisting the urge to strangle you, you fool!” she shouted.

Cassian just smirked at her.

But she kept holding onto him for their entire flight back to Windhaven.

________________________________________________________________

A/N: Thanks for all the love!! Let me know what you thought of this latest chapter! :)

---> CHAPTER 5

#nessian #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta cassian #far from the shallow #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #a court of wings and ruin #acowar #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #fanfiction

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burlybanner · 5 years

Text

Syzygy

Notes: New story. Will be putting it in installments, probably once/week. This is more or less to keep me honest with writing it. If I don’t, I won’t finish. I know me far too well. It’s a monster, probably close to NaNoWriMo levels if I’m honest. But it’s a nice monster. Note the tags.

Syzygy

Rating: M (themes/language mostly)

Pairing: Stark Spangled Banner

Special note: an AU of Infundo (post-Infundo Chronicles).

Summary: They’d always been a triad - sun and moon, encircling a heavenly body...

***

The question was so out of the blue, so perplexing, so - fuck no, he must be losing his hearing - insane that Tony dropped the spanner. It bounced and clanged angrily across the lab's cement floor causing one bot - U - to chirp softly and pick it up. U tried returning it to its creator by repeating bumping against his leg, but Tony focused on one thing right now. One person.

"Run that by me again?"

"You heard me." Bruce Banner stared at an oil smudge between their feet. It was twisted in an odd shape, reminiscent of pancake-shaped licorice. "I don't think I need to repeat myself."

"Oh hell, no. No." Tony yanked the spanner from U's grip and tapped his shoulder with it while pacing the floor. "You don't drop a bombshell like that without giving a guy a hint. What brought this on?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah, honestly."

"It looks comfortably soothing, I’m tired of running, I like who I am...and." He bit down his response, holding it between his teeth, but Tony could see Bruce mentally shifting gears - frustratingly choosing to conceal a portion of truth. A skill Bruce was, unfortunately, still good at doing.

Bruce sighed. "Maybe I'm warming up to full-on pampering from you and Steve. Do I really need to explain myself?"

"All right, fine. I...get it. Sort of." Tony paused mid-pace and gave Bruce the side-eye, but not without sauntering over to his extremely significant other while poking him in his gut (and Tony's finger sunk in a good five inches, before Bruce swatted his hand away).

Like diving into fresh dough, Tony thought wickedly.

“Stop that.”

"Whatever. I'm just saying, you're what. Three-sixty? Three-seventy?"

"Three-ninety."

Tony tutted his tongue against his teeth, his eyes scanning Bruce from head to toe. He'd overlooked how round and jowly Bruce's cheeks had become and how much more his heavy belly wobbled over his belt like an over-inflated water balloon.

Tony slowly scraped his lower lip with his teeth and let his libido drink in Bruce's delicious form. His fat had dissolved all his chiseled edges, smoothing them like candle wax, dimpling him in places Tony never expected to notice. Arms, legs, face, chin, chest, neck - even elbows and fingers Pillsburied up into scrumptious fat. Bruce'd blown up like a county fair attraction and Tony couldn't tell where he'd even put on the extra twenty; Bruce’s fat had settled into all his body’s spare nooks and crannies. All that lovely jiggling Jell-o. Waiting for touches, prods, tickles, and gropes—

"Earth to Tony," Bruce muttered, snapping his fingers in Tony's slackened face.

Tony snorted, pretending Bruce hadn't mesmerized him and turned him so the fuck on. Was he becoming more like Cap these days? Wouldn't doubt it. "ANY-hoo," Tony said, grabbing a rolling chair. He took inventory of Bruce more thoroughly by rolling around the scientist, taking a good 360-look while Bruce stared at his circular pattern.

"Are you trying to orbit me?"

Tony laughed. "No. Although that could be an experiment for another day." Tony poked and prodded Bruce’s flab, freely grabbing fistfuls of his favorite butterball and fluffing his ample butt cheeks.

"Tony," Bruce cautioned.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"What are you plotting?"

"Me, plotting? Perish the thought. I'm planning, Banner. I have ideas, I have a million ideas. But we're gonna have to get Cap involved. He'll want to know."

Bruce fidgeted somewhat, which surprised Tony. Didn't seem like something Bruce would be shy about.

"So soon?"

"Well, yah, the sooner the better." Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "What's bugging you, Care Bear?"

"Nothing," Bruce said, but Tony didn't believe him. He let it slide as he rolled back to his desk.

" 'Nothing' for now, babe, but I'll challenge that declaration later." He did a quick calculation in his head and pulled up Jarvis' keyboard. "J, open a new file for me. Call it, 'Operation Supermax.' "

"Seriously?"

"Don't mock the name, Brucie Bear. It's not like I had time to come up with something better."

"New file created," Jarvis intoned, flooding the room with his soothing AI voice. "Would you like to add to it now, sir?"

Tony grinned at Bruce. "Scan Brucie for me, Jarvis. Put all his current vitals in there. Show us what we're working with."

Jarvis threw up a 3D image of Bruce‘s body and stats. “I will say, I'm quite curious, sirs."

"So‘re we, J. Especially interested in what'll happen after we tell Cap."

Bruce looked less enthused at telling Steve, but whatever. Steve was their partner; not telling him would be ridiculous. "Sure you don't wanna say why you're lookin' grim?"

"I'm not grim," Bruce stated, and Tony waggled his finger at Bruce's lie.

"Not my monkeys, not my circus. But you know Steve'll get it out of you if I can't, Pooh."

"I know."

"Easier to rip off the band-aid."

"I said I knew, didn't I?"

"Fine, fine." Tony toggled a few buttons on his keyboard. "J, call Steve down. We're gonna have a family meeting."

But Steve relayed a message through Jarvis saying he'd meet up after he'd finished his workout. Bruce had grabbed five pounds' worth of snacks and wanted to wait for Steve in the media room, but Tony cajoled and wheedled him until he caved. Which was why he ended up joining Tony in the exercise room instead, ogling Steve's lifting routine. Well, “cajoling and wheedling” wasn’t exactly right, to be fair. Watching Steve work out was a damn privilege.

"I feel like a stalker," Bruce muttered, unwrapping one of his remaining chocolate bars. He wasn't not staring, though.

"He probably knows we're here. He says he doesn't, but I think he does. I'm just obeyin' my thirst."

"Quit watching those dumb commercials." Bruce scarfed down his jumbo Snickers bar with two or three grateful grunts and gulped down his soda. And no, Bruce's Adam's Apple bobbing so deliciously up and down did not mesmerize Tony. Certainly not.

Nope.

"Mmf--and/or, get off social media. Sounds like you’re trying too hard to fit in with the cool kids."

"Heh. You can't tell me Steve doesn't like teasing us right back." Tony pointed his chin at Steve powerlifting weights rivaling Thor's class. "Look at 'im, you can't tell me he's not a thirst trap."

Bruce made a face as he tossed his wrapper and soda can in the trash. "Definitely too much social media."

Tony's eye lingered over Bruce's dwindling dragon hoard of snacks, which teased a lecherous smile from his lips. "You startin' early, or what?"

"Gotta keep up my strength."

"Mhm." Tony went into his head, thinking about how Steve'd go bonkers. In a good way. Probably in a good way. "You know Steve'll have his own ideas. You gonna let him go hog wild?"

"Oh, hardy-har." Bruce tore into a packet of mini donuts. "Yeah, okay, fine," he grunted. A smattering of donut crumbs sprayed from his full mouth before he put a hand to his lips to stop them. "You figured out why I'm apprehensive. Don't rub it in."

"I'm not tryin' to, Brucie. In fact, I think you're blowing this up way out of proportion." And don't think Tony didn't recognize the pun, even if Bruce didn't. He casually watched Bruce scrape crumbs from his shirt. "Don't you think he cares enough that h--"

"Oh, hey, fellas!"

Steve finally noticed them salivating in front of the spy window. Which was what Tony called it. Really, it was a breezeway with a window to the exercise rooms so folks could check for occupied training floors. But Tony mostly used it to indulge his naturally nosy nature.

Steve grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped it around his neck while Tony bit his tongue. Making lewd comments was tempting and although Steve wouldn't have minded, Bruce would get skittish if he ramped up the tension now. And if Bruce bolted, well...kinda made what he was about to do moot.

"What's up?" Steve dabbed sweat from his forehead and plunked next to Bruce on the thirst trap bench. His cheeks reddened when he noticed the mound of opened goodies. "Is it an emergency? Fury call us in?"

"Oh, nothing like that," Tony said. He propped his feet beneath the breezeway window. "Bruce has something he wants to say."

Bruce wiped powdered sugar off his lips while swallowing thickly. "Well, not...exactly."

"Yeah, ya do, exactly," Tony said, nudging Bruce's shoulder. "Boy Scout," he said, calling to Steve. "D'you think you could steel yourself enough to not act like a kid in a candy store?"

"Tony..."

"Bruce, hon', it's all good. Steve," he started again. Poor guy already looked five kinds of confused. "It's something that'll affect the three of us but unless Bruce explains with his big boy words I'm not gonna help him."

"Traitor," Bruce huffed.

"Only way to kick you out of the nest."

"What," Steve said, finally getting a word in edgewise, "the hell. Are you two talking about?"

Bruce shot Tony a narrow look before turning to Steve. "It's...it's not enough," he began slowly. "I-I mean, we're fine," he stuttered, gesturing to each of them. "We're great. But I want. I want more. And I'm not sure how you'll take it."

"Just know," Tony interrupted, "I'm on board 100% if you are. But I'm looking at this from a scientific perspective more than--"

"I thought you said I should tell him."

"Well, you're taking too long, Banner. Cut to the chase!"

Steve held up a hand, motioning both to shut their traps. "Thank you," he said once they quieted. "Now. Bruce. Muffin." He stroked Bruce's chubby cheek and Bruce melted like butter in his hand. "Gimme the specifics. Let me decide if I'll be okay or not with whatever it is."

But Tony could see the small trembling smile on Cap's features; Steve was noticeably scared. He made a face, hoping Bruce hurried it up before causing irreparable damage.

"I want," Bruce sighed heavily. His glance went back and forth at the men in his life, then to his hands. "I'm not exactly happy at my current weight."

Steve's lips thinned. He looked like someone had taken his favorite toy away, but the expression fled before Bruce caught it.

Tony noticed, though.

"So you want to lose weight," Steve sighed. He kept his voice level but Tony detected his disappointment. "Well, I understand. It's not like we expected it forever and--"

"No," Bruce interrupted, quieter than before. He wrapped his hand around Steve's, stilling the man's jitters. "You've misunderstood. It's...ah. It's the opposite."

Steve's cheeks flared while Tony choked back laughter from Steve's startled expression.

"W-what? You wanna gain more?"

Bruce slowly nodded. "I know you've always been encouraging, and you seemed satisfied when I tapered off. But I really like it when you and Tony feed me." Bruce reached for Tony's hand and rubbed his thumb across their knuckles. "I like breakfasts in bed, lazy nights watching B movies, and eating crappy takeout. I like feeling overstuffed, and the headiness the feeling brings me. I think I've gotten as large as I can on my own. So I'll need help from you and Tony to get...um. Larger."

Steve visibly gulped. "Um. H...how much larger are we talkin'--?"

Bruce glanced Tony's way, and Tony encouraged him with a nod. "Um. To a point where I can stay sedentary. I'm happy at home - I'm happy here. With us. I don't want to run anymore, and I want to feel grounded. Literally. So--"

"He wants to become immobile," Tony explained, butting in again. "Which is no mean feat, with his metabolism. Even with Bed, even with all the snacking and meals he gets, he's probably leveled off. But if we're talkin' immobility, we're probably addin' another three hundred to him, more or less."

Cap let out a shaky sigh. "Whoa..."

Tony shrugged. "Again, more or less. Depends on what 'immobile' means to a guy like Bruce. 'Course you know," Tony said, sobering. "He's wouldn't be totally immobile, not really." His dark eyes roamed Bruce, emphasizing the seriousness of his next words. "The only way that would happen is if we separated him from the Hulk."

"Which I'm not asking for," Bruce quickly piped. "That's not my goal."

"Good. 'Cause that's more than my paygrade. What'dya think, Spangles?" Tony turned to Steve. "You in, or what?"

"I...I'm not even sure." His expression remained pensive before hovering between Tony and Bruce. "I think I want to understand what that means before I agree to it. It'll change our 'rules,' our dynamics, the team--"

"Absolutely," Bruce agreed. "But I guess...I'd like to retire, if that's okay. From the team. I've already spoken with the university--"

"What?"

"You have?"

Bruce motioned for his boyfriends to calm down. "I'm not giving up teaching, I'm just switching to an online format. I'll still be an adjunct but I won't teach in person or in front of a classroom. And besides..." He sighed, but a small smile teased his lips. "I won't be mobile enough for a classroom. At least that's what I'm hoping."

Tony shared a look with Steve who looked both mesmerized and stunned. But then Tony noticed something else a sly, (dare he say it), evil mastermind grin on Steve's face rivaling their greatest enemies.

"Steve. Your bad boy expression is showing," Tony muttered.

"I know, I know," Steve breathed. "But I kinda I wanna know how soon we can start."

Part two: https://burlybanner.tumblr.com/post/185854349769/syzygy-2

#syzygy #bruce banner #tony stark #steve rogers #chubby bruce banner #more warnings to come as story progresses #has some dark elements to it #magnum opus piece #stark spangled banner #infundo #infundo au #chapter 1 #starkspangledbanner syzygy

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gosecretscribbles · 5 years

Text

MonthofMaybel2019 Week 2: Cryptid Cuties

Summary: Two warring insectoid societies turn the Pines' backyard into a battlefield. Mabel and Dipper care for an outcast from one of these societies, then realize that he is the key to ending the conflict.

A/N:

Well this turned out way longer than expected.

And also way more intense?? I have trigger warnings, just in case!

We don't see it, just the after effects, but our Cryptid Cutie got beat up by his society and made an outcast.

There's a quick battle between cryptids at the end and someone's limbs go crunch. Nothing graphic, limbs are shown healed but a bit bent later. It's minor but it's in there.

It was Saturday and the room was warm without being stuffy. Mabel snuggled deeper into the covers. Waddles was still sleeping, Dipper was mumbling dork words in his sleep, and she could hear her mom making Saturday pancakes in the kitchen. She yawned and, without opening her eyes, reached under her pillow for a pre-breakfast snack of sugar packets.

They weren't there.

Huh?

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Mabel propped up her head and lifted the pillow. No, they were there, only they'd been shoved to the edges of the mattress. And every last one of them was empty! They were as flat as Dipper's bow tie after Waddles had sat on it!

Suddenly Mabel heard a hair-raising shriek from the kitchen, followed by a really loud crash. Instantly she, Dipper, and Waddles ran down the hall.

“Mom!” Mabel called. “Mom are you – what happened?”

Their mother was standing clear across the room, arms plastered to the fridge, staring bug-eyed at an open kitchen cabinet where they kept the flour and sugar.

“Uh, Mom?” Dipper asked.

“You – it – thing!” she said, pointing emphatically at the cabinet. “I told you no more supernatural pets! Especially hair eyeballs that go rooting through the sugar!”

“Hairy what now?!”

Mabel stifled a laugh. She could already see the Grunkle-Ford-like gleam in her nerdbro's eye.

Evidently their mother say it, too. “Oh no you don't. Whatever it, we are not keeping it, you are marching it straight to the backyard and Mabel you make sure it actually gets there and doesn't end up under the bed.”

Mabel gave her a thumbs-up, then grabbed two cereal bowls while Dipper grabbed a spatula and a ladle. The two glanced at each other, nodded, then slowly approached the cabinet.

The sugar container was already open. They couldn't see anything yet, but the piles of sugar were quivering ever so slightly, granules sliding down the sides of the snowy mini-dunes. She held her breath. Dipper slowly extended the spatula...

“GREEEEE!”

The second the spatula touched it, a huge hairy eyeball sprang out of the sugar and zoomed straight for Dipper's face. He shouted and executed a terrific backhand, sending the ball of blurred fur right at Mabel. She caught it one bowl and clamped the other neatly on top.

“Tada!” she trilled. “Thank you, thank you!”

“Did you see that, did you see?” Dipper said excitedly. “I didn't see any wings, do you think it's another kind of eyebat, I only got a glimpse but –”

“Get. It. OUT!”

They got.

They'd barely made it to the back porch when Dipper grabbed her arm. “Wait wait, Mom didn't say anything about recording it! Just let me get my fish tank, we can trap it and I can make a video recording before we let it go!”

“Okay but then we're actually letting it go, right?” Mabel said. “Because Mabel ain't riskin' her pancakes for an eyeball.”

“Yeah okay be right back!” He dashed into the house.

Mabel sighed and sat down, the bowls still in her hands. Guess the pancakes would have to wait a little longer. Waddles settled in next to her with an oink. That was when she noticed it.

Their backyard was a biggish square with low jasmine hedges on either side of the porch, one tree each against the left and right walls, and a nice spread of grass perfect for picnics and leaf-pile-jumping and the occasional mowing of crop circles (Dipper's handiwork, she was 90% sure). But somehow twin termite mounds had been created in each of the yard's back corners, both of them over four feet tall and ringed with piles of dirt that made them look like tiny gopher playgrounds.

“Hmmm...I don't suppose you had anything to do with that?” she asked the bowls.

To her surprise, she heard a very small but unmistakeable groan.

She hesitated.

Should I do it? she asked herself.

You should absolutely look at and nurture what is obviously the cutest fluffy kitten version of an eye bat ever to exist in the universe! (said herself).

“Welp, when I'm right I'm right!” Mabel said cheerfully. She cracked open the lid –

The back door banged open. “Okay, I got the tank, let's – ack, Mabel, close the lid, close the lid!”

“Dipper, look!”

She held up the bottom bowl. Cradled at its center was a creature six inches high, with a brown furry spider butt that turned seamlessly into the torso of a young human boy. The butt part was complete with eight spider legs and a design on the back that looked exactly like an eye, and the boy part of him was a lean athlete's build right down to his chiseled arms and back, with a sprinkle of chocolate-colored freckles under a pair of huge wounded innocent puppy dog eyes. Mabel's heart wanted to burst right out of her chest and proclaim her undying love for him on the spot.

Only two things stopped her. One, his muscular torso was covered in deep cuts and purple bruises, with his two front right legs were twisted at definitely broken-looking angles.

Two, he was curled up as small as he could get, looking absolutely petrified.

“Oooookay,” Dipper said slowly. “So, not an eyebat.”

“Dipper, I think we really hurt him,” Mabel said urgently. “Can you get some floss and toothpicks or something? For splints?”

“Well, sure, but a lot of spiders can be poisonous. What if it bites you?”

“I won't bite.”

It was just a whisper, but it was so unexpected that Dipper jumped and Mabel nearly dropped the bowl. Then she squealed so loudly both boys flinched and covered their ears.

“OMIGOSH YOU ARE SO CUUUUTE! Don't worry, we're going to fix you right up and then we'll go on dates but we're from two different worlds so our romance could never last and we'll be star crossed lovers it's so ROMANTIC!”

“Interesting bedside manner,” Dipper said drily. Then he turned to the spider. “Give me a second to get some first aid stuff. Mabel, try not to plan the wedding while I'm gone.”

“I make no promises!”

She didn't plan the wedding (out loud), but she did take care of the actual bandaging part, using tweezers to tie floss around splints made from toothpicks. Waddles assisted her by oinking encouragement, and Dipper held up a magnifying glass for her to make it easier. He also kept up a running conversation to distract her patient.

“So you are poisonous?”

“Yes,” Anansi said, a little breathless. (He'd told them his name, but they didn't have the extra vocal cords to pronounce it, and he'd agreed that this was a decent substitute.) “But we don't...generally bite...we coat our spears with it...”

“Who's 'we'?”

“The Spider-People.”

“Shoulda seen that coming. But what do you need the spears for?”

“To fight...the Mantis-People...” His face twisted. “Please, is this almost finished? This last splint really ow ow OW OW!”

“Done!” Mabel said quickly, sitting back. “Sorry, I think I tugged the floss a bit when I cut it. Better?”

“Much, thank you.” Anansi got shakily to his feet.

“So I'm guessing those mounds over there, they're for the Spider- and Mantis-People?” Dipper asked, nodding to the termite skyscrapers.

Anansi drew himself up to his full height (he looked so ruggedly angsty.) “Yes. This land belongs to the Spider-People, but it was stolen from our forefathers when they were tricked into signing the Contract. We warriors have fought for generations to reclaim what is ours from the cowardly Mantis.”

“And the land you're fighting for is...?”

Anansi glanced at the backyard.

Dipper groaned. “Of course it is. Look, Anansi, pretty sure we can persuade our mom to leave the yard alone, but we should really get you back before our mom gets antsy. No insect pun intended.”

Mabel sighed, but she got up with Dipper as he scooped up Anansi and started towards the left-hand mound.

“Wait – NOT THAT WAY!” Anansi screeched. “Those are the Mantis-People, they'll kill me on sight!”

“Oh, oh! Sorry.” Dipper started toward the other mound.

“Not them either! They – they'll probably kill me, too.”

They both stopped short and stared at him.

“But what about your family?” Mabel asked. “Even if you're the lone wolf-spider type, every angst warrior needs a family!”

“But...I'm not a warrior.” Anansi hung his head. “Every time we fight the Mantises, all I do is run away. My brother won't even look at me anymore. But all I really want to do is crawl up to the tallest mounds and listen to the stars, to write the poetry of a river, the whispers of a stone...I want to create beautiful works of art. Like the Weaver.” He glanced up at Mabel, guilt written all over his face.

“The Weaver? What're you – oh, oh! The sweaters!” Then she gasped. “THE WISHING SWEATER! The tiny writing, that was you!”

“Not so loud, please!” He thrust out both arms to quiet her and glanced anxiously at the mounds. “Weaving is forbidden, no one else knows how! If they heard you and realized I was here –”

“But you can't stay in our house,” Dipper pointed out. “It was an accident, but you got pretty banged up.”

“That wasn't from –” He stopped short. Mabel started to get a squirmy feeling in her stomach.

“Anansi,” Dipper said slowly, “I thought you said you ran away from battles. How did you get all those other injuries?”

He swallowed. “They...caught me weaving...”

Mabel gasped. Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She locked eyes with Dipper, who looked equally grim.

“You know what? Never mind,” Mabel told him. “You're staying with us. Dipper's got an empty fish tank and Mom's got two pounds of sugar she'll probably toss out anyway. And if anyone from anywhere tries to hurt you, he'll have to get through me, Dipper, and a seriously adorable pig.”

Their mother was displeased.

But once Dipper and Mabel explained the story, she agreed to let him stay, as long as he mostly kept to their room to avoid her (or their dad) squishing him on accident. She even went out to the pet store for little colored rocks, and then to the fabric store for a tiny pair of silver needles, so Mabel could teach him how to knit. Within a day, Anansi had settled in and started Weaving like crazy. His masterpiece was a web that stretched straight across the bedroom ceiling and glittered like an indoor Milky Way. Best of all, the runes in the Weaving were magic, so the constellations in the web moved just like the actual sky. Both Dipper and Mabel <em>loved</em> it.

The yard was a different story. Every day at dawn, the Mantises would climb to their tallest tower and read the Contract, a tiny Weaving no bigger than a butterfly wing, and read it aloud. (Neither Dipper nor Mabel spoke Mantis, but somehow it still sounded smug.) The Spiders would hear it and climb their towers and shout battle cries, and then the two sides would run down and clash in the middle like teeny-tiny titans. The Mantises had blades on their forelegs, which made them excellent in hand-to-hand fighting, but the Spiders could throw spears the way Mabel threw bubble-themed parties.

Mabel tried to do her Lilliputian Peacemaker thing, but that ended just as badly as the first time. The Mantises scraped up her ankles and her legs stung for hours from the Spider-People's spears. After that, Dipper tried to film some of the battle to show Grunkle Ford, but he stopped after just a few minutes.

“It's literally war,” he'd told Mabel, walking into their bedroom and staring at his camera. “Literal, actual war. It's nothing like the movies.”

Anansi had turned away.

By the end of the week, Mabel and Dipper came home from school to find that their backyard had been pitted and cratered so much that it resembled the surface of the moon. Dipper and Mabel glanced at each other and then hurried to their bedroom.

“Hey, Anansi?” Mabel called once they'd reached it. He was sitting in his tank, staring at his sugar bowl, still full to the brim.

Dipper dropped his backpack with a thunk. “Hey man. Listen, the battlefield's getting pretty close to the house. I don't think anybody knows you're here, but just in case, maybe you should start coming to school with us.”

Mabel nodded vigorously. “Yeah! You'd make a totally cute boyfriend-in-a-pocket accessory! Or you could hang out in the Art Room with Waddles. You could spin a web over him as a commentary on the advertisement and consumerism in Sheryl's Net! What do you think?”

He didn't answer.

“Anansi...?”

Mabel looked closer. Anansi wasn't just sitting there. He was all hunched over with his hair hanging over his face. And she almost missed it, because he was so tiny, but his shoulders were definitely shaking.

He was crying.

“Oh, no, please don't cry!” She hurried to her dresser, grabbed a cotton ball and handed it to him to use as a tissue. “Tell us what's wrong, we can fix it!”

“I m-miss them,” he sobbed. “They'd all k-kill me if they found me and I miss them anyway. I can't stop m-missing them. I don't even know if my b-brother's still alive. I'm sorry, you've b-been so kind to me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” He buried his whole face in the cotton.

Mabel's heart squeezed and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Anansi.”

Dipper started pacing. “There's gotta be some way to end the fighting. Or at least get them to accept you. Just because the Mantises can Weave doesn't mean...” He slowed to a stop. “Wait. Anansi, how did you learn how to Weave if only the Mantises can do it?”

Anansi looked up, then down, twisting the cotton in his tiny fists. “I...when I went up to the tops of the towers...I didn't mean to look, but they read the Contract every morning, so –”

Mabel gasped. “You read the contract?”

“I didn't mean to! It was just there! And then I noticed how some of the patterns matched the words –”

“Can you tell us what it says?” Dipper asked.

Anansi recited it instantly, word for word, but this time in English. Mabel shook her head in disbelief. Talk about a serious bookworm! Bookspider?

Then Anansi got to the end of the Contract and both Dipper's and Mabel's eyes widened in realization. When he was done, Dipper turned to look at her.

“You thinking what I'm thinking?”

She nodded, a fierce grin spreading over her face. “Oh yeah. Anansi, don't worry about a thing. The Mystery Twins have a plan.”

The next morning was Saturday. Dipper and Mabel waited at the back door, listening. Anansi was hidden in the fluffy neck of Mabel's sweater, under her hair.

The Mantis leaders climbed their tallest termite tower, the Contract glittering in their scythe-hands like a creepy gem. But just as their leader took a breath to read it, the twins burst through the door.

“CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” Mabel roared.

The leader spun around so fast he nearly fell right off. “Challenge?” he sputtered. “What challenge?”

“The one at the end of the Contract,” Dipper said. “The one where whoever wins three contests gets to amend any part of the Contract they want, or even nullify the whole thing.”

The Spider-People began crawling out of their mounds. They'd been waiting, too, spears in hand, and were now staring back and forth between the twins and their sworn enemies.

“The Challenge itself is null!” the Spider-Leader called out. He was about as tall as the Mantis leader, but while the leader was thin with a turquoise shell, the leader was a bigger, buffer, way hairier version of Anansi. “The entire Contract is a lie! We refuse to be bound by any part of it. Besides, it's rigged in the Mantis' favor! They get to decide all three of the contests!”

“You're just unwilling to admit inferiority!” the Mantis leader bellowed. Instantly war cries went up from both sides.

“Wait wait wait!” Mabel said quickly, stepping between them. “You guys are tearing up the land you want with all your fighting! Plus our mom is pretty much ready to hose you guys. The Challenge is the best way to end it. Dipper and I can be your impartial judges. And, and! The Spider-People get to pick one of the challenges!”

“No they don't!” the Mantis leader screeched, just as the Spider guy yelled “ONE ISN'T FAIR!”

“Do you forfeit, then?” Dipper asked innocently. “I mean, either side is allowed to invoke the Challenge. If the other side decides not to accept, it would be a pretty cowardly defeat.”

Within seconds both sides had not only agreed but were throwing Challenge-based puns that would have made Grunkle Stan proud.

The Mantises picked close-range combat for the fist trial. Dipper brought out a breakfast tray to serve as the fighting area and each side chose a warrior. The one from the Mantis side was extra-tall, at least eight inches, with a carapace the color of pale jade and scythes that were the envy of every sushi chef alive. The warrior from the Spider side was so ruggedly handsome he could've been the cover for Gentlespider's Quarterly, and his muscular body moved with a predator's grace.

Anansi gasped and shivered against her neck. “That's my brother!” he whispered.

She swallowed and held up her hands. “Okay! You win if your opponent goes down for a count of ten. No killing or you automatically lose.”

The Spider scowled darkly and the Mantis looked annoyed.

“What if he's jus a little bit dead?”

“No killing! Ready – GO!”

Both warriors lunged. Anansi's brother dug a leg in the tray and swiveled his body in a half-circle so the Mantis' own momentum carried him straight past, then karate-chopped Mantis in the neck joint. But the Mantis threw his armored head back, trapping his hand between the head and the shell, then swung both scythes sideways, hard. The spider's front right legs snapped and he went down with a shout.

Dipper shouted and Mabel jumped to her feet.

“I SAID NO KILLING!”

“You didn't say anything about maiming,” the Mantis said smugly.

“That doesn't – fine, whatever! 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-you-win! Now somebody please help him!”

Two of the Spiders moved forward, their faces stony, and helped their fallen comrade off the tray. The Mantis side welcomed their warrior back with victory cries. Anansi trembled against Mabel's neck the whole time.

The Spider leader stepped forward. “The second contest...IS SPEAR THROWING!” he shouted, and cries of challenge went up from his people. “Let the Encroachers see how well they fair against a skill they deem inferior!”

Once again, each side chose a warrior who stepped to the center of the tray. The Mantises didn't even make spears and had to borrow one, much to the vicious pleasure of the Spiders. Both warriors had to throw the spear at the far wall as hard as they could, without hitting or hurting anyone on either side.

The Spiders won. It wasn't even close.

Once both sides had sort-of-barely calmed down, Dipper indicated the Mantises to announce the final contest. This was the trickiest part of the plan. They were counting on the Mantises choosing a very specific task. If they didn't...

The Mantis leader smiled coldly. “Let the Spiders' fate hang on a skill that they themselves deem beneath them. The tie breaker will be...WEAVING!”

“WHAT?!”

The Spiders shrieked so loudly the windows of the house actually rattled. After three minutes of yelling and insults, Dipper had to threaten the hose to get both sides to calm back down enough for an actual conversation.

“THE ENTIRE CONTEST WAS A SHAM!” the Spider leader screeched. “YOU'VE BEEN ON THE MANTIS' SIDE THE ENTIRE TIME!”

“YOU AGREED TO THE TERMS!” the Mantis leader screeched back.

“AND WE WERE DECEIVED AS YOU DECEIVED OUR FOREFATHERS! WE'LL NEVER HONOR THIS CHALLENGE!”

“IS THAT A FORFEIT?!”

“THERE IS NO CHALLENGE IF THE CONTEST ITSELF IS A FRAUD!”

“You still agreed to the entire thing,” Dipper said, staring the Spider leader down. “And it was discussed aloud, so you can't blame messed-up Weaving for this one. Only a coward would ignore the consequences of his own promise.”

“But we don't even have a Weaver!”

“Yes you do,” Mabel said.

A quivering lump moved under Mabel's sweater, across her shoulder, down her sleeve. She held out her arm, and Anansi stepped out in the open at the center of the tray.

There was dead silence.

Mabel had thought his people would start shouting again, but somehow this was so much worse. They were staring at his back as though they could drill straight through it.

The Mantis leader smirked and gestured to a youngish-looking Weaver at his left. “A youngling of our own will suffice for us,” he sneered. “Though even our novices would outclass every last one of you.”

“The Weaving has to be a poem about peace,” Mabel said quickly, before the Spiders could start yelling again. She took out her stop watch and held it up. “Both sides have five minutes. Begin.”

The spinners began immediately, with the Mantis spitting a thin stream of saliva into sticky string. They started in the corners of the tray and worked their way toward the middle. One minute ticked by, then two. No one moved but the weavers.

At three minutes, though, the Mantises began to shift and mutter. Where Anansi's weaving was tight and even, his runes uniform, the other weaver's loops were too tight or too loose, and there were little knots everywhere that ruined the symmetry.

The timer buzzed.

“The appearance means nothing!” the Mantis leader screamed. “It is the words themselves that hold true power!”

“You're right,” Mabel said. “Weavers, if you please.”

The Mantis weaver stepped forward and read his poem. The faint threads from the shadow grew under the weaving like a pool of lavender, and the knots glowed like stars. It really was pretty.

Until Anansi stepped forward and read his poem. The many delicate lines of his work seemed to shimmer and undulate like waves of grass. Then she realized the air above the weaving actually was shimmering. Fresh greenery grew straight out of the threads, pouring over the sides of the tray, flowing across the broken earth until everything was covered in a fresh layer of moss and clover and tiny white flowers sparkling with dew.

“The Spiders win the Challenge!” Mabel called out, over the shouts on either side. It took a while to get the Mantis leader to actually hand over the Contract. Once the Spider leader had it in his hands, he ripped the whole thing in half.

“How are your legs doing?” Mabel asked.

It had been another whole week since the day of the Challenge. The Mantises had left and the Spiders had stayed, although they mostly kept to their mound. Anansi had retreated back to his tank in their bedroom. He was currently working on a web over Waddle's bed, just like the one in Sheryl's Net.

He flexed his injured limbs. “Better, thank you. The bandages can come off soon. ��Can I borrow the book again? Human letters are so much harder than runes. Too many curves.”

“Runes are human letters, too,” Dipper called from the bed.

Anansi actually rolled his eyes. “Where do you think you got the runes?”

“Ohhhh were there tiny Norse Spider-People?? There were, weren't there? I bet they had tiny little Norse hats with horns and everything!”

Dipper sighed audibly. “Mabel, real helmets didn't have –”

Tap tap.

They looked up. Three Spider-People stood at the windowsill.

One of them was Anansi's brother.

Mabel glanced at him, checking, but he nodded so she went over and opened the window.

“We are here for the Weaver,” Anansi's brother announced.

“Uh, sure!”

“Not you.” He right past her at Anansi. “You. Weaver.”

“Uh,” Dipper said, getting up.

Anansi just sort of head-bobbed at them and skuttled awkwardly along the wall until he reached the sill. Even with the brother's legs still bent funny, he was at least an inch taller than Anansi and twice as muscular. Dipper hurried to stand next to Mabel and she grabbed his shirtsleeve, watching anxiously.

“The Mantises are contesting our right to the other lands,” the brother announced, like he was giving a public speech. His two escorts stared straight ahead like they were being graded on how well they resembled statues. “They claim that the Challenge was only valid for the land where we won. We will Challenge them again and again until their own laws turn against them. Therefore, we will send Egglings from every tribe, and you will teach them Weaving.”

Anansi looked stunned. “Teach – warriors? Weaving?”

“Warriors do not learn Weaving,” one of the other Spiders snapped, his tone harsh. Anansi's mouth clicked shut. Mabel stuck out her tongue and Dipper scowled.

“We will send the first Eggling in a moonturn,” his brother continued, as if nothing had happened. “I will relay further instructions at that time. Prepare your lessons. That is all.”

At once the other two spiders turned and scuttled away. Anansi's brother turned as well, then sort of half-stumbled, so that his two injured legs brushed Anansi's. Then he was gone.

“Nice guy,” Dipper said drily, moving to shut the window.

Mabel knelt down to put her face at Anansi's level. “Hey, you okay?”

“Fine,” Anansi said, all wide-eyed like a spider in the headlights. He looked at the spot where his brother had touched him. “I'm fine. I'm – I'm wonderful. Did you hear them? Nobody called me a coward! They want me to keep Weaving! They want me to teach Weaving!” He actually jumped five inches straight up, making Dipper jump back and bang his head on their bunk bed.

“Sorry!” Anansi said, not actually looking sorry at all.

Mabel squealed and pinched her cheeks as hard as she could. “Omigosh you are so cute when you're all bouncy!”

“Uh-huh,” Dipper said, his eyes watering. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you realize we still have a problem.”

Mabel jumped to her feet. “You're right, the Spiders still haven't embraced the true beauty of Weaving! Grab your needles and spinneret-things, Anansi, we're gonna make Weavings so great we'll wow the spider-pants off every last Spider!”

“Not that,” Dipper said. “I mean yes, obviously, but his brother just said he'd be sending a bunch of little baby spiders to hang out with Anansi.”

“So?”

“So – exactly how are we going to explain that to Mom?”

Uhhhhhh, tada? I don't normally write stuff quite this intense (or with heavy political undertones??) but I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave comments, and thank you for reading!

#monthofmaybel2019 #week 2 #cryptid cuties #spider #spider-people #not what you're thinking #TINY spider people #and tiny Mantis people #Weaving #Political message???#dipper pines #dipper #mabel #mabel pines #anansi

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