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hangmanssunnies · 2 years

Text

Reminders

Summary: Your definition of teasing has changed significantly since you started sleeping with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. The man lived for it. Anything you two were doing, he would find something or some way to tease you.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x AFAB! Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: PWP, Orgasm Denial, thigh worship, BDSM dynamics, Deep throating, Choking, General filth. (Please let me know if there are specifics y'all want mentioned)

A/N: This came to be thanks to @princessphilly, @bradshawsbitch, and @dissonannce thank loves. <3 I went insane. GOD HE JUST IS SO !!!!

"Oh, princess. Why are you crying?"

Fat tears still dripping down your face, you frown. Finally, finding your voice enough to whisper, "I was so close."

"I know you were," Jake sighs as if he is disappointed in you. He even goes so far as to shake his head.

"Please, Jake," You beg.

Jake hums as if he is in thought, his calloused but smooth hands sliding up and down the length of your thighs. Grounding you back in your body, waiting. If Jake even suspected your attention had drifted away from being fully focused on him, he would immediately rectify the situation.

Your eyes are closed for too long, and a hand comes down on your ass hard, making your eyes fly open. You turn your head to look at Jake, giving your best hurt look. You are tempted to stick out a lip, but Jake had grabbed it and held it that way as punishment before, so you bite your lower lip hard instead.

"That's right, let me see those pretty eyes, princess," Jake asks you as he speeds up how his hips are fucking into you. You groan happily and watch Jake fuck you through heavy-lidded eyes, enjoying the build-up again. As you once again get close to the edge, you screw your eyes shut, canting your hips upwards to meet his. Desperately trying to chase that high. However, his hands were on your hips, preventing you from moving.

"Look at me," Jake growls in a low voice. You open your eyes again, catching a peak at Jake's face and he looks pissed. He remains fully seated in you, hissing out a harsh breath as you desperately clench around him, trying to entice him into giving you more.

Jake slaps your ass hard two more times, his big hands then holding your hips tightly in place. The feeling of loss bubbles through you as the arousal in you starts ebbing back to the low burn again. You have to turn your face onto the couch to hide your tears and the broken hiccups that are threatening to fall out of your throat. You whine and try to fight his grip, but Jake pulls out of you and leaves you wanting again.

"I don't know if you've been a good enough girl to cum." He says it gently while petting your back softly. That makes you have an icky achy feeling curl in your stomach. It's not like when he is saying things playfully mean. It sounds like he believes it. You twist awkwardly to look at him more clearly, and his face is just as devastating.

"That's not true," you're telling him, voice breaking to take little gasps between your words.

"What's not true?" he asks you, helping flip you over onto your back. His hands gently trace up to your knees rubbing them before they ghost over your sides and tits, then down your arms.

"I am a good girl, Daddy."

"Is that right?" He responds, raising an eyebrow.

You nod your head, and Jake cups your face affectionately. You let him stroke your cheek, sweetly nuzzling his hand.

"Well, why don't you remind me then, princess?"

"Prove it for you, Daddy?"

Jake's thick thumb traces the shape of your lips, and you purse your lips to kiss the appendage softly. His lips quirk at the sight, but he goes to push away the lingering tears on your cheek instead of pushing his thumb in your mouth like you were expecting. Your mouth had already opened in anticipation, so instead, you are just staring at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed while he took care to rub the salt lines away from your cheeks and eases the puffiness from crying.

"Baby, you've been crying. I think we should just go to bed," Jake says with a sad frown as he strokes your cheek.

"No," you protest with a gasp. Jake just shrugs, which makes you frown harder. You were a good girl, and you wouldn't go to bed before making sure Daddy knew that. You dare to touch him. Settling your hands on him and easing your bodies into a more comfortable position. Pushing Jake back into the leather couch and settling between his thighs.

Maybe Jake liked to tease you so much because of how much he loved to be teased. He never seemed worried that he wasn't going to get what the end result would be, so he was more than happy to enjoy the ride. That's why Jake was so fun to suck off. He was enthralled in every part of the process, never pushing you to get to anything.

You traced shapes on his thighs and pepper kisses there. When your lips graze a spot that makes Jake's muscle jump, you promptly sink your teeth into his skin. Jake gasps in response and is immediately holding out a hand. You thread your fingers with his and lick gentle, teasing kisses and suck. Once you are satisfied, you go looking for the next spot on his beefy thighs that makes his hips shift.

You bite and kiss his thighs until the only thought in your head is the idea of riding them. Jake's hand that's threaded with yours gives a gentle squeeze bringing you back to him again.

"What's going on in your head, princess?"

"I think I'm in love with your thighs."

Jake laughs at that, and the sound is enough to shift your eyes back up to his face. He has that wide, perfect smile that showcases his dimples. You glow at the sight of it, almost feeling like how a cat does in its favorite sunny spot. Then Jake asks softly, "Just my thighs, baby girl?"

"Not just your thighs." You nuzzle higher up his legs and blink up at him exaggeratedly. You ghost your lips over Jake's cock enjoying the breathy moan he makes. Then you sink your teeth higher on the edge of his hip near the base of that V that drove you a little crazy. Jake hisses, and a moment later, your cheek is stinging. Jake frowns at you, his eyebrows drawn tight. The slap, which honestly was louder than it was hard, shook a little bit of the haze from your brain and let sense trickle in.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," You whine, kissing where you had bitten. Jake's frown eases, but his eyes stay narrowed on your face.

"Why are you biting Daddy so hard, princess?" Was I too mean to you?"

"I just get so excited that I'm yours. That it feels like the only thing I can do is—" You don't finish the thought; instead, just nibbling the skin of his hip bone then, not a hard bite this time. You make sure to keep it much softer and playful. Jake shutters at the feeling and nearly whimpers when your hand wraps around his cock.

"I don't mind as long as you're not mad at me, princess," Jake says, his hips lifting a little to follow the movements of your hand. He is still slick from your own juices as he slides in your grip. It makes your head a little dizzy at the thought.

"I want you to know I'm a good girl, Daddy."

"Oh baby," Jake sighs sweetly, obviously worried his teasing had gone too far. Your hand halts its movement, and you lift your head from where you've set it on his thigh.

"I'll remind you, Daddy." You say, licking down his skin until you meet the base of his dick. You nuzzle the hair there. Then you place small kisses up his length until you reach his head. You trail your tongue around him, acquainting yourself with the flavor you two mixed together. It is musky but honestly, with an extra lick of pre leaking from his slit, it is a bit of an intoxicating mix.

"We taste so good," You make sure to tell Jake. You lift your eyes to meet his and have to hold back a grin at how fucked he already looks.

"We always do, don't we?" Jake asks you, squeezing the hand he is still holding. You squeeze back and guide that hand to your neck, encouraging him to steady you there. Jake does, and the moment his hand is around your throat, you don't feel quite as floaty as you were before. You take a moment to breathe deeply, testing the new limits of Jake's hold. His hand it's holding you tight, but enough that you have a boundary. With another breath, you smile up at him, and Jake rewards you with his dimples, guiding you closer to his cock again.

You use your free hands to help you, cupping Jake's balls and holding the base of his dick steady while you lick at his tip again.

"Fuck, I love how you tease me." Jake gasps. That makes you pause, giving him a fuller lick and popping your lips around the tip to give Jake a hard suck. He groans in response.

"Love your mouth, princess. Give me more." It's a command you are more than happy to follow. You start to work Jake in and out of your mouth. Moving the hand you have on his cock, stimulating the areas you aren't ready to squeeze into your mouth or throat yet.

"Fuck take my cock," Jake gasps, using the hand he has on your throat to draw you a bit further down. You moan in the back of your throat in appreciation of his hand tightening on your throat. Jake groans in response to your moan, and his hips nudge forward as well, working him further into your mouth. Relaxing your jaw wider, you lift your tongue a bit to drag over the ridge of his head each time he pulls out.

"Just like that, princess." He moans and starts fucking into your mouth gently. "You are so good." Jake finally groans, pushing into the back of your throat. Hearing the words feel like a little bit of euphoria straight to your brain. You gulp in shallow breaths as Jake slides between your lips.

"Be my good girl. Take a little more." Jake says to your encouragingly. You do as he orders, fighting your gag reflex, letting Jake slide down your throat until your nose meets his hip bone and you are nuzzling the curls there again. Drool is dripping from your mouth, and the tears falling feel soothing. It's lewd, and you have absolutely no care because Jake is calling you a good girl over and over. You're stuffed full of his cock just how you like, and Jake's hand squeezes your throat tight like he is searching to feel himself there.

"Feel me right here," Jake squeezes a tiny bit harder. You start to feel fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and a smile spreads over your lips as much as you can spread them. Jake's breathing is positively ragged now, coming out in little pants. You whine around his length, nails digging in near one of the spots you bit on his thighs earlier.

Jake eases out of your throat, but only to your mouth, and you gasp around his cock's head, which is still heavy and hot on your tongue. You feel a little less intoxicated now that your brain has the ability to breathe in air that hasn't been wholly tainted by his taste, hair, sweat, or musk. That air doesn't feel right, so the moment you aren't on the verge of passing out, you start desperately sucking Jake's cock again. It's messy and sloppy, and Jake is moaning and twitching. You know he is getting close, and you want it. You are his good girl, and you want him to cum.

You massage his balls and slide him down your throat again entirely of your own volition, humming the whole way. Jake jerks forward at the last second, and his cum is hot and salty down your throat. Holding you in place by your throat while he spends, you meet his green eyes while he hums and groans as another spurt bursts from him. You are a little upset by that, preferring when he leaves the last bit of himself on the tip of your tongue to savor instead.

You whine and try to fight him when he pulls out of your mouth. Jake just tuts, half annoyed and still a bit blissed out look on his face. His hand drops from your throat, and you instantly miss it. Suddenly feeling too empty and insecure. You whimper against Jake's hip, pressing your face there.

"You were so good, princess. So so good." Jake utters while stroking your cheek. You smile and press a soft kiss to Jake's skin.

"I love you," you tell him, voice a little cracked and raw. He sighs happily, just like every time you say it.

"Princess," Jake asks gently, his hands gripping your arms and pulling you up his body.

"Yes, Jake?" You ask with a grin. He settles you on his right thigh and grins lazily at you.

"I love you too," he says, this thumb finding your clit and grazing it

It makes you grind and lean forward to kiss him. Jake's tongue dips into your mouth, searching out the flavor of himself. You groan and roll your hips again his thigh. Jake traces your clit hard, making you pull away from the kiss to pull in a gasping breath.

"You reminded me three things, princess," Jake whispers in your ear, encouraging you to grind down harder on him, and palming your tits now. "One, you love my thighs. Two, I don't remember the last time you rode them. What is the third thing?"

"I don't know, Daddy." You cant your hips harder as Jake bounces his knee, making you gasp.

"Oh, come on. You know, be my smart girl and tell me," he says, kissing the sweet spots on your neck.

"Good girls get to cum?" You ask, hopefully.

Jake's knee stills, and he grins at you before dipping further to bite hard at one of your breasts. "Yes, princess, that's right. They do, but."

"But only when Daddy says," You answer. Jake nods into your skin as his finger finds your clit again, but he is holding you tight so you can't roll your hips anymore.

"Only when I decide so." He confirms, starting to build you up again. And fuck you hope you did enough convincing for Jake to let you come this time.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman smut #hangman x you #jake seresin smut #hangman x reader #hoeing for hangman #hot hot hot #hot 🥵#hot 🥵 🌶️#jake seresin x you

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ineffable-human · 1 year

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Season 2 (potential) Clues

Get ready for another theory post y'all we don't have enough clearly

GIF made with help by @afhyer

Being a collection of things I found weird/noteable in Season 2 that could be potential Clues for Season 3. (and my theories, some sound, some crackpot)

Note 1: I use my dudes non-genderedly

Note 2: I am not tech savvy enough to get screenshots from Scamazon or make gifs or anything so sorry for the low-quality phone images/lack of images in some cases

Jim and the God Possession

Jim and the whole memory loss thing was a great part of the show, but it did bring up some interesting moments when Jim got God-possessed (As I like to call it). These moments prove to be fairly crucial, especially the first one.

It’s through the God-voice that Aziraphale and Crowley get to thinking about the Job job. Now I have oodles of theories about what this does to/for them, but ultimately I think it comes down to relaying two main ideas. 1. There’s always a work around to the main problem

2. Demons (and to an extent angels) have free will/a choice

Now the second one is less God-like but still leads us (and Crowley) into the minisode about the magic show. Here we learn two more important pieces of information.

1. There’s such a thing as a miracle block

2. Aziraphale and Crowley can pull off tricks without needing to use miracles

My (crackpot-ish) Theory: knowing Gabriel is commonly referred to as God’s messenger in many bibles/renditions, I think it’s likely that he got redirected to Aziraphale’s shop by God to deliver these messages.

Aziraphale’s reactions during the Beelzebub/Gabriel scene

They’re feckin’ weird, my dudes.

I noticed two things right off the bat.

First. His lovey-dovey face.

Okay, I know we all know that Aziraphale feels love and that he loves love, but that doesn’t seem to be the entirety of what’s going on here. Look at that face! LOOK AT IT!

Extremely crackpot theory: Aziraphale knew about Gabe and Beelz’s relationship ahead of time.

Most likely theory: Aziraphale is happy seeing proof that it’s possible to find something more important than choosing sides

(couldn't get a gif but watch it cause there's certainly a thought pattern going on when this happens) Second. His reaction when Crowley tells Gabriel and Beelzebub about Alpha Centauri. He looks both saddened and regretful. WHY? Not just because he rejected Crowley once, but because (crackpot theory) he knows he’s gonna have to reject him again!!! Idk whatever way you look at it that’s QUITE the reaction to Crowley giving away their spot like that.

Crowley's reactions after

Let’s start with whatever Crowley is up to when the angles are all talking.

He’s just off, lounging in the chair. Doing nothing. Doesn't even RESPOND when Michael threatens to erase Aziraphale. Mr. I DID NOT CARE FOR IT, just sits there and lets that go unanswered. WHY??? Even if the book of life isn’t real like he claims, it’s still a little out of character for him to just do nothing at all. And the fact that he just sends Azirpahale off with the Metatron after is like…bruh really?

Okay now, go look at Crowley AFTER Aziraphale goes for a chat with the Metatron. IDK about anyone else but this boy does not look happy. (couldn't get any clear shots SOB) He looks angry when he’s talking to Muriel about the breakfast. And when was the last time he mentioned needing an extreme amount of alcohol? When they were trying to stop the first apocalypse.

I know that everyone’s thinking he’s all excited and happy to go see Aziraphale and get together etc. But this all happened BEFORE Maggie and Nina walked over to tell him to confess.

My Theory: Crowley does know Aziraphale, and knows how badly he wants to work with heaven and be good and all that jazz. Which is why he’s anticipating Aziraphale coming back to say, hey I’ve been offered a job. He expects them to go talk it over at breakfast and is preparing to say goodbye/help him come up with a plan to stop armageddon pt2. But then he gets the idea to confess and Aziraphale hits him with the ‘be an angel again yay’ whammy, and he just loses it.

The Non-Acceptance Acceptance

Something just interesting to note…the Metatron sends Aziraphale into the bookshop with a ‘take your time, we don’t need an answer right away’ but then comes in right after Crowley leaves acting as if Aziraphale said yes all along.

Theory (potentially crackpot): The Metatron (potentially with the help of demon Maggie{I got ideas, my duded}) manipulated and orchestrated their breakup by getting them both to a heightened state of emotions and throwing them together. He knew Aziraphale would get into a fight with Crowley and that Crowley was the only reason he wouldn’t go with them.

The Coffee and the Embassy

Do I wish the coffee was super drugged and Aziraphale was not himself? Yes. But let’s put that idea aside and just look at the facts.

I’m gonna start with how weird it is that the bookshop is still an embassy. Aziraphale does call it an ex/past-heaven outpost, but it’s still his and still has heavenly power. Whereas Crowley lost his flat when he lost his job.

Why is this? It’s possible that the flat was owned by hell whereas Azirpahale bought the shop himself. But it still doesn’t explain why heaven was still ‘protecting’ the home of a ‘traitor’.

My theory for this does concern the coffee. But not the drink itself or what may or may not be in it. Rather, the way it’s presented to Aziraphale.

First, the Metatron says some of the things in that weird way of his, like the “hefty jiggy of almond” and whatnot. It sounds very ‘hint-hint wink-wink nudge-nudge’ to me, like he’s talking in code to Aziraphale.

Second, Aziraphale says that there’s nothing left to talk about, and he’s made his position quite clear. The only time we’ve seen them talk was in Season 1 when Aziraphale tries to talk to God. And in that conversation, Aziraphale didn’t say anything about his *position*.

My theory: Azirapahle and the Metatron talked at some point between S1 end and S2 end. Most likely very closely after S1 ended, and Aziraphale did something (perhaps made a deal) where he was able to keep the shop and maintain its embassy status.

Addendum HELLA CRACKPOT like so cracky it’s just a giant hole: Metatron secretly good guy come at me XD

The flow of the fight

So I won’t go deep into my big crazy theory about the fight being fake, but I will point out the strange things I noticed, why they feel off, and what I think it might mean…. I also could not garner the energy to take pictures of this scene sorry SOB

First, Aziraphale when he’s telling Crowley the ‘good news’. He keeps glancing out the window. As if checking that the Metatron is still watching. And if he’s watching, we don’t know if he’s maybe listening too. And Azirpahale’s whole attitude in this opening bit feels kind of like his stage-presence.

Next, we get the weird half-information about the talk with the Metatron. We don’t really see the full convo, which is part of the point, I believe. We don’t even know if that conversation happened at all.

After that, Crowley gets thrown for a loop with the whole restoring angel status, obvs. But then they go right into their old fight of heaven and hell and good and bad. Which was, I think, the main thing that’s a little off here. And that’s because of how much Aziraphale noticed and was seen noticing those ‘light-grays’ of the world and of the whole situation. The entire graverobbing bit was him learning that the difference between good and bad and right and wrong are blurred/a matter of how you view things.

Yes, the miscommunication is the main issue here, but the fact that the good/bad debate comes up again is interesting to note. Especially since it’s Aziraphale that pulls the hell is bad heaven is good card. If we go on the idea that this conversation is being bugged and they’re trying to talk between talking, it kind of seems like Crowley is throwing out the ‘I thought we weren’t choosing sides???’ and Aziraphale brings up the good/bad to indicate that it’s not about choosing sides but about doing what’s *right* (like saving goats and children).

Next, Crowley hits us with the line about heaven ending life on earth. Because he knows the angels were planning a second armageddon. Now I don’t believe that Crowley, for however hurt he is, believes that Aziraphale would willingly go along with that plan. But Azirpahale doesn’t know about it, right? This out of place line (in direct response to heaven being the side of truth light and good) is Crowley’s way of cluing Aziraphale in on the bigger picture. Note, specifically, the pause before Crowley speaks again as Aziraphale processes that.

Aziraphale didn’t say no, but he also didn’t say yes. I think this is the key point in the argument. Aziraphale just learned that heaven is still planning to try and destroy Earth. And he knows that if he does nothing, they probably will. So here he is, essentially accepting the job so that he can put a stop to it. And here he is trying to tell Crowley that’s his plan

Crowley understands what’s going on. And he decides to confess, right? This confession gets *interesting*. First, Aziraphale glances out the window when Crowley says they’re a team, yes? Because he’s still checking for Metatron’s presence. Second, Aziraphale looks confused by Crowley’s line of reasoning. Crowley is talking about them relying on each other and working together, but Aziraphale’s idea of that (in this situation anyway) would be him coming to heaven to help.

Crowley’s eyes wander a lot, but he also looks pointedly out the window at one point, while he’s struggling to get the words out. And I think that he’s trying to get his confession out while knowing that they’re being watched/listened to. I mean, gosh it’s tough enough to confess let alone when someone is watching.

As to why Crowley decided to confess: I don’t think it’s an act of desperation to get Aziraphale to choose him over heaven and just abandon everything. I think it’s his act of desperation to get Aziraphale to realize that going to heaven has BIG FUCKING TRAP written all over it and that they can do more to fix things together on Earth than anywhere/way else. And Aziraphale pulls a similar move by asking him to come with him. He knows it’s dangerous and he does need Crowley there to help.

Now this is another weird turn in the convo. After Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with him again, Crowley throws out ‘you can’t leave the bookshop’. And Aziraphale responds with the ‘nothing lasts forever’. Now I’m sure I’m missing something here because both of these lines feel so weird and out of place I’m gonna assume they are some kind of code or I’m dense about the line of reasoning here.

What’s really interesting tho is that Aziraphale looks kind of…hopeful? After he says it, right before Crowley walks away. Like he was expecting some kind of different reaction to that line. Maybe Crowley missed the Clue, too.

After that, it’s easy to see why Aziraphale would stop him from leaving and reharp on the point of them working together in heaven. He doesn’t know if Crowley fully understands the Plan, or if he’ll help when Aziraphale needs him. And he’ll definitely need him.

Then we get another little shift in the mood/convo. Aziraphale gets angry/frustrated, possibly because Crowley isn’t picking up on the idea. We’re so used to seeing Crowley get angry in their fights, but the few times Aziraphale does get angry he gets *angry*. Here, however, he’s clearly trying to mask it.

Okay, the whole Nightingales line, imma be honest, made no sense. Like, in the fandom it makes sense because of the song, but like, in the depths of this conversation I was like ??? what a strange way to put it. But Aziraphale does react to it, so we have to assume there’s something about it that they both understood/knew. (I will touch BRIEFLY on my ‘the entire argument was a magic trick bit’ to say that this is Crowley letting Aziraphale know that the kiss/his feelings aren’t part of the scheme).

I don’t even know with the whole ‘I forgive you’ bit, man. There’s a lot of ideas, but the way Aziraphale’s face changes from shocked, to sad, to angry, to immediate regret after says a lot as well. Crackpot theory: Aziraphale trying to change Crowley to an angel early by ‘forgiving’ him as the new supreme archangel so he can kidnap him away to heaven.

After the Fight

NOW! An important thing to note after the fight! When the Metatron mentions the second coming, yeah Aziraphale get’s that OH SHIT face. But I don’t think it’s an ‘oh shit they are up to no good’ face. It’s an ‘oh shit this is a different beast than just shutting down another apocalypse’. And the way he looks at Crowley after is very much a ‘help me I’ve bitten off more than I can chew’ kinda look.

Also a potentially important thing. Crowley’s face is pretty blank during both that and the driving away. Which is weird because his face is usually so expressive you can tell what he’s feeling even with the glasses on. He looks more…pensive than sad to me but that Could Just Be Me.

Aziraphale's fucking smile at the end

I mean just look at that, lil bastard. That’s totally a hahaha I FOOLED THEM face. Enough said.

The miracle block and Aziraphale's failed Jedi mind trick

Putting aside the totally real possibility that Maggie is a demon (further evidence available upon request), I thought it was weird that Aziraphale’s little jedi mind trick to try and get her to leave/forget about the night didn’t work.

Where else did we see miracles not work? The magic show!

My theory: Someone put a miracle block on the bookshop during the invasion. My addendum theory: It was Maggie

The weird music sting and Mrs. Chen

Furfur did mention that he could muster up a feel of illease/malcontent, but this moment when Mrs. Chen is heading in and we get that little music sting feels very weird. It’s such a noticeable/long cut that it just feels like it’s gotta be something more.

And it’s a very similar music sting as when the Metatron gives Crowley his lil evil snarl face My theory: I don’t even have one, but there’s something there.

Crowley not remembering people/the thing about not seeing their faces

Okay this one kinda gets a little iffy but stick with me for a second. Twice in the show we see Crowley not remembering someone (first, Furfur and then Saraqael). Now, someone asked Neil Gaiman about this and iirc his answer was something along the lines of ‘who says Crowley sees people’s faces?’

So, from that answer (if we can trust anything he says XD), we can gather that Crowley recognizes people based more on their aura/soul than their physical features.

Now then, this is an interesting thing to keep in mind when you see his reaction to new Beelzebub and Jim.

When he sees Beelzebub, he does immediately recognize a difference. But it’s important to note here: Beelzebub mentions they’ve had that face for ages. Remember this.

When he sees Jim, he recognizes him as Gabriel, even though we could suspect/assume that his aura/soul looks different since losing his memories and angel powers.

But what’s the real kicker, is that Crowley recognizes the Metatron off the fucking bat when none of the feckin’ angels do, despite probably having seen his giant floating head during the trial.!!!! AND let’s not forget the the Metatron instantly recognizes him as a demon and calls him as such when the rest of the season has shown multiple times that angels can’t immediately recognize demons (at least not on Earth)

Now, we can chock it up to, well yes Crowley would recognize their faces since he’s interacted with them more/more recently, but we should also keep in mind a very useful/common storytelling tactic: which is to make something important seem unimportant by playing it off as a joke.

A prime example is Jim and the fly. He tries to sway them with books, and makes a joke about gravity. But the fly did play an important role. The jokes distracted from the importance.

And both scenes of Furfur and Saraqael are played a bit as a joke from their reactions.

My theory: Crowley is suffering some kind of memory loss from the great war.

Addendum/Alternate theory: Some/Most demons got themselves new faces when they fell, and the face Beelzebub has now was their old angel one.

Gabriel and the Institutional Problem

I know the Scamazon subtitles were wrong BUT I WAS SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS AS A THEORY WHEN I FIRST WATCHED THAT I WANNA SHARE IT ANYWAY

When Jim is talking about what he remembers, he says “if it happens again, It can make it seem like an institutional problem.” But the og bad subtitles had him saying “if it happens again, *I* can make it seem like an institutional problem.” If the subtitles *were* correct it would put a pretty big disconnect between what the Metatron said in the trial and what Jim/Gabriel thought or said.

My now sadly discounted Theory: Gabriel was purposefully trying to expose the issues in heaven/lead to some kind of shenanigans that would shut down further apocalypse attempts. Crackpot Addendum: he was instructed to do so by God. ((And yes, if you're wondering, I did come back on Tumblr after like, 3 years of being gone just to post this nonsense thank you and goodnight!))

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens seaons 2 theories #good omens season 3 theories #good omens theories

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beevean · 1 year

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Just post your Hecula rant you coward >:(

LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

I am embolded by the sheer amount of Dracula/Jonathan (harker, not morris) content floating around, I think people have realized by now that I'm a disgusting degenerate who very much likes the trope of "creepy ass old man falling in 'love' with a young boy/girl under his thumb" :'D

So this is a translation of this post, which I translated because I noticed some people seem to be interested in Hecula :)

Obviously there's going to be extensive talk of grooming and abuse.

It's hilarious how I fell into this rareship hell simply because

I memed too much about everyone in CoD wanting to fuck Hector (which is true and I can prove it);

no i will never stop using this image it awakened something in me worse than the Stabbing Scene

And then yeah, everything fell apart :'D

First of all I just want to say one thing: if CoD was more famous in the fandom, many more fans would accept the idea that Dracula fucked his Generals in between genocides. C'mon man, the set up is perfect. Y'all are cowards, I tell you :P

But other than that, it is interesting to compare the differences between Isaacula and Hecula.

Isaacula is your typical villain/simp ship. Isaac adores Dracula, he's literally crazy for him, he would destroy himself for him, and Dracula is like, "okay". Personally I like the idea that Dracula is perfectly aware of how much Isaac worships him (not that Isaac even tries to hide it lol), and takes the opportunity to manipulate him just the right amount... and c'mon, if a pretty boy offered himself to you like this, what would you do, not take advantage of the situation? 👀 But he sees Isaac as he would see… I dunno, his throne? It's there, it belongs to him, no one would touch it, he doesn't have to do anything else. It's not interesting.

Hector is interesting. Hector is a prodigy in the art of Devil Forging. Hector is a skilled fighter. Hector is smart (and so is Isaac, but he's a lot more emotional so he may seem dumber). Hector, after a childhood spent believing he didn't deserve to exist, is now realizing his own worth. Cold, proud, obedient Hector, without Isaac's fanaticism but far more efficient, and just as grateful to his benefactor.

I think there is a possibility for Dracula to be attracted to Hector. And yes, the mental image of him suddenly realizing one day that the shy little boy who one day knocked on his front door has grown to be such a handsome man in a short time makes me want to bite the flesh off my arms and it drives me insane <3

Not only that, but if I really wanted to be cynical, I could also point this out:

Speaking of Leon, I can now get to the point of what I call the Bride Hector AU: Dracula, gone insane with grief over the loss of Lisa, clings to Hector tooth and nail (literally lmao) and insists on using him as a substitute for his wife.

It has been pointed out to me that, in that scene in LoI where Mathias proposes to Leon to join him in immortality, his goal may also have been to replace Elisabetha with his best friend. Mathias was clearly out of his mind with grief, and he trusted Leon, and he couldn't even comprehend that Leon maybe didn't want anything more to do with him. He just wanted company. He didn't want to experience his immortality alone.

But Leon was free to tell him to go fuck himself, rightfully so.

Hector, who is as handsome as Leon, as strong as Leon, and as dear to Dracula as Leon used to be (although in different ways, the two are not friends obv) does not have this freedom. Hector swore allegiance to Dracula, Hector became one of the strongest creatures in the world thanks to Dracula, and he still trusts the only person who granted him the right to exist.

Hector should be grateful to Dracula.

So, don't you think that kissing him isn't the least he can do to his Lord to compensate for all that he has given him? Or offering his neck? Or accepting to be brought to Lisa's old bedroom? :)

It's very, very easy for Dracula to get Hector to give him what he wants, even if Hector doesn't reciprocate Dracula's feelings at all. He doesn't need tricks or magic, he can simply exploit the loyalty of a poor boy who has no one else, and who by now is so used to being his Lord's favorite that he can't even consider disappointing him.

On the other hand, at the heart of it all there's an old man unable to move on. As a vampire, he's frozen in time, and it's very difficult for him to accept change. He became a vampire in the midst of grieving the loss of his first wife, and now he has lost his second one too? He can't do it. He can't handle the pain. He breaks. He needs someone.

And Hector just so happens to be right here, this pretty boy who can be seduced, who can help him feel less alone.

After Lisa's death, Dracula becomes... protective. Very protective. He will no longer allow anyone, not even God Himself, to take away the only light of his life. Which not only means protecting Hector from all the beasts that would dare to harm him or worse, but also making sure that the boy doesn't slip away from him. Dracula has complete control over his castle and all its residents... so Hector, love, you better be nice and don't do things that might displease your Lord :) like, for example, running back to Isaac, who meanwhile he's dying inside of jealousy :) oh, but don't worry, you're the favorite, so nothing will happen to you! But Isaac will take the fall :) so he will hate you even more, and your relationship will break down, and Hector will truly have no one left but his Lord :)

Or his husband :)

Dracula loses it more and more, he needs Lisa, he needs to feel sure that he will never be left alone again. He gets the morbid idea of marrying Hector and calling him his wife, even giving him the wedding ring that used to belong to that poor woman whom Hector might have seen as a mother figure. He can't escape. Now his Lord is his husband and Hector must behave accordingly, and if Dracula wants to be called by his first name and pet names while he fucks Hector on Lisa's bed, well, he has to do it. What can he do about it, say no? Hahahaha you're so funny <3

(A little appreciated perk is that, as a Devil Forgemaster, Hector is far tougher than a normal human, and he can conjure Fairies to heal most of his wounds. A perfect match for a ten-feet-tall cold vampire with sharp fangs and claws :) you're welcome, Hector dear <3)

Hector, needless to say, has a hard time clinging to his sanity. He doesn't want any of this. He doesn't want to be the sex toy of the person he once could have seen as a father, he doesn't want him to suck his blood so often that he's practically anemic by now (because, among other things, let's not forget that he still has to work), he doesn't want all these scars around his neck that almost form a collar he can't take off, he doesn't want Isaac to hate him and envy him for a situation he refuses to understand, he wants to be seen as Hector, as a person.

But he can't hate Dracula. Dracula isn't cruel with him, he just needs some help. Dracula did some good things too after all, and it's true that Hector can't live anywhere else, because only Dracula appreciates and accepts him. There is still a small part of Hector, the boy who was stoned by his peers and slapped by his mother, who still loves Dracula, to a certain extent.

But the more Dracula degenerates, the more the outside world doesn't seem so terrifying, compared to the madness of his Lord...

He's not Isaac. He is loyal and obedient, but he's not willing to objectify himself to this extent.

In short, I really really like this kind of dynamic, an older man seducing a younger person into a relationship of trust and dependency, until the younger person escapes and takes their life back into their own hands <3 and yes, while the idea of the older man thinking of the other as simply a warm body to fuck is appealing in its own right, I'm growing to love the alternative of him instead falling in "love", but it's a twisted, selfish, all consuming love.

tl;dr: hecula hot

And just in case, I have written 4 fanfics to explore these ideas :)

If you have a good tool, you use it, don't you?

It is forbidden to touch the Lord's belongings

Honeymoon (technically a spoiler but I long gave up on that)

Shame (the only fully SFW fic so far lmao)

#hecula #long post #c'mon guys i lost 5 followers in a row the last time i reblogged hecula content #let's get to 10 this time let me really know how much you think i'm disgusting <3 #yes i do swing between 'i'm so ashamed of myself' and 'who gives a shit cringe is dead and i'm free'

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goldenfharry · 1 year

Note

You guys this is SO irrelevant to Harry but I really need to talk to someone about this personal problem of mine. So i have been talking with my ex the past few weeks after a very long time. We were together 10 years ago and he recently came out of an engagement. He got cheated on and that relationship ended horribly. I visited our town where he lives, a few weeks ago (I live FAR away and only visit once or twice a year) and he came to me and confessed everything about his break up to me and even apologized for everything bad he did to me when we were together. And he looked so honest, he almost cried. He said that he loves me still and that he talked about me to his ex and that he still talks to his family about how he still loves me (it's true, his mum told that to my aunt) we talk every day and every day he says that he loves me and that he misses me and asked me to visit again and when I told him that I will, he looked happy but now that we talked again he said a few things that I didn't like. He wants me to go see him OUT of our town. He told me to take the bus and go meet him at the town that he works. He won't even come and pick me up. He wants me to travel across the whole country for him and he won't even make the effort to come and pick me up. And he even indirectly told me that he won't hang out with me IN our town because of the people who know us. And I am confused. Because how tf are you going to ask me to come see you and when I actually do, you won't hang out with me because you care about what people will say? And I'm thinking, is he doing this because he doesn't want people to gossip and he's just trying to protect us or is he doing this because he's embarrassed for me? I don't understand him. He tells his own mother that he's in love with me, he tells his ex that if he had the chance to be with an ex, that ex would be me, he's begging me to go see him and when I do, he doesn't want to lift a finger for me?? Not even do the bare minimum to just come and pick me up after the VERY long travel I'll do FOR HIM? I want y'alls opinions on this please because idk what the fuck is going on.

Firstly, even though this is clearly a Harry blog, feel free to always, ALWAYS VENT HERE! this is a free place

Now, I’m not going to fully get into details of my personal life here but I’ve been in your position before (I’m more than happy to tell you my personal experience through dms anytime) so I totally understand how you must be so confused! Usually I’m all for love, because life is hard and to me any chance of being happy is a privilege. But he needs to make an effort. Honestly bestie, you’re the only person in the world that can make a decision that is good for YOU. But with that comes the responsibility of respecting YOURSELF. It’s not fair for you that YOU need to do the effort when HE was the one suddenly coming back to your life after ending an engagement. And if you are telling us this, then it means that it is a personal boundary of yours that you want him to respect it.

Choose you, always. If that means finding love again, whether it’s with him or any other person, if you’re feeling something, respect it and give yourself the power of having a voice. And trust me, if he wants you, he will make the fucking effort. If not, his loss! Clearly you are a keeper by just helping him dealing with his tough time.

Hope it helps. I’m here for you anytime! 🫂

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kinnspocketporsche · 2 years

Text

Metaphor Done Right: Childhood's End in KinnPorsche

Full transparency: I have not read this book. But I did major in literature which means I am highly proficient in Making Books Make Sense without reading them. Having said that, if anyone who has read this book calls bullshit on me - that's valid. If you read the book and think this post makes no sense, you're probably right. All I'm saying is I think I could pull off a decent grade in a KinnPorsche Lit Analysis course XD

Like any good metaphor, this one has multiple meanings: a tangible, in-universe meaning, and a broader, meta-meaning - so bear with me; as per usual, I have a lot to say.

The Title

I don't think the title is the only reason this book was chosen, but before we get to that - even if it was the only reason this book was chosen, it has more depth to it than the message it intends to send to the viewers.

Who is reading this book, in-universe? Who chose to read this book in-universe? Vegas.

Right, obviously I didn't need to tell you that, but y'all - we do choose books by their covers, I don't care what anyone says, and we choose them by their titles. I had multiple lectures on cover design and analysis during uni because of this and it was actually fascinating.

I also want to consider what Vegas is trying to get from reading. We might read for pleasure, to learn a new skill, or to learn something about ourselves and the world we live in. I look at Vegas's face here and I think about him asking his abusive father "What am I supposed to do?" and I think he's looking for answers.

The title of the book might be meaningful for us, the viewers, but it had meaning for Vegas and that's a lot more important. Do y'all think Vegas, who has grown up alongside death and amidst abuse his whole life, is morning the loss of his childhood now, in, what, his 20s? I don't. Do y'all think Vegas, who's tortured and killed repeatedly, is a child? Yeah, me neither.

So why this book? Daddy issues again, yep! Gun treats Vegas like a child! He even groups him in with Macau, who is very clearly more childlike in age and demeanor. And here's Vegas thinking he's getting this treatment because he's a failure, looking across the bridge at Kinn who's in the process of taking over for his father. Vegas does one thing of his own volition and his dad says he's ruined everything. He can't come close to being himself. It's insulting and painful for him. We might see the title Childhood's End and think "loss of innocence" but Vegas sees it and probably thinks "freedom." Most 20-something-year-olds with an overbearing parent would, and especially one with and overbearing and abusive parent. I don't think it will give him the answers he was expecting, but I think the book's answer does further the one that Pete ultimately provides.

The Book as a Book

Just real quick - the fact that of all KP characters, we're seeing Vegas read and be associated with books has meaning on its own. This goes back to him needing to look for answers beyond the ones he's been handed by the people in his life - but books can indicate intellect, knowledge, learning. Also, very relevantly, words and their meanings. Vegas reading a book, Vegas reading into Pete's words... They're connected. I also find it interesting that this would indicate, that, even though Vegas doesn't believe in honesty, words are important to him. I mean, if Pete used those double meanings with Porsche - even Kinn, probably - it'd be a lost cause, I think.

The Plot

My quick summary of the book, based off of its Wikipedia page: Aliens decide that humans need supervision. At first they're unobtrusive and seem to be a positive force, leading to great creative feats within the human race. Unsurprisingly, things go sideways and children start losing their identity and merge into a group consciousness - one which is powerful, and dangerous. They're isolated, physically, from everyone else. They eventually lead to the end of the Earth and the end of humanity.

My gut instinct was that Vegas would feel like an alien in the context of a sci-fi book. A victim of child abuse and he's also gay? I mean...

But nope, it's worse than that :) The aliens in this book end up on top, anyway. Vegas feels like a broken human. He's nearing his shattering point, the point of no return, the point of - like the children in the book - losing his whole identity to the demands of his father. Let's break down that summary line by line.

Aliens decide that humans need supervision. Just like Gun constantly supervising his adult son. Ah, Gun, the unnecessary supervision in Vegas's life. The sneaky little bastard that convinced Vegas that Gun was a positive force in his life, and that Vegas was the one fucking things up. Which leads us to the next bit:

At first they're unobtrusive and seem to be a positive force, leading to great creative feats within the human race. At first, it didn't seem so bad - it seemed like Gun was trusting Vegas with things, and Vegas felt pretty powerful kidnapping Porsche and having (seemingly) free rein to play his mind games.

Unsurprisingly, things go sideways and children start losing their identity and merge into a group consciousness - one which is powerful, and dangerous. There's a lot here, but Vegas is losing his identity here. He willingly sacrificed his humanity at (probably) a pretty young age, what with all the death and torture, but he'd come to embrace it. But when things go wrong, it's Vegas who's bad, it's his identity that's flawed. The little things that he chose to do of his own volition - even within the rules provided by his father - are to blame for any failures ("Why didn’t you do what I told you? Why did you defy me?").

They're isolated, physically, from everyone else. This one is obvious, right? Isolated from the rest of society, isolated from the main family, isolated from his own family (Macau) at the safe house. Isolated by the experience of growing up in an abusive household (What did he say to Pete? "You've never gone through what I have?" Huh.). Vegas is very much alone.

They eventually lead to the end of the Earth and the end of humanity. This is the direction Vegas is currently headed. Absolute destruction.

And the children in this book end up kind of in-between human and alien. Pretty nicely aligns with Vegas's monstrous human attributes, the way he's scary even within the mafia world, to everyone except his father. I think that's the abuse coming in to play, mentally he's in a very different place than Kinn and his brothers, even though they all grew up in the mafia. It makes Pete, who's had the same parental experience as Vegas and wasn't from the mafia world originally, especially interesting because he blends in so seamlessly.

It's also interesting that the book's plot twists the meaning of the title on its head. "Childhood's End" has multiple meanings: the children are warped to be these alien-humans, so the literal end of the human children and also the end of humanity's supposed utopia. Maybe utopia under alien supervision looks good, and maybe to Vegas (to any kid), having a father to guide him looks good, but both are leading to a stripping of identity that will end very badly.

Thematic Metaphors

Drive to Conquer

The "peaceful alien invasion" very much parallels colonialism and assimilation. I don't know how to read that summary and not get that vibe. Gun isn't trying to take over a country or a culture, but I think there's something there. The drive to conquer is a huge part of their family. In the book, the alien-human children ultimately consume the Earth, and I wonder if they inherited that from the aliens. I don't know if that's a real thing or just something that I'm incorrectly assuming/hoping for. There's something satisfying about that parallel with Gun and Vegas regardless, but if it's an inherited thing in the book it would really be a perfect fit.

Deception

Sparknotes actually gave me this one. You can probably see it already - the aliens deceived the humans into believing they were helping humanity grow; Gun deceived Vegas into believing he was a dad helping his son grow. Deception is a core part of who Vegas is. There's more of it in the book, but you get the point. Super on par with Vegas and his world. Made more interesting with Pete, who wields his honesty as power and intellect when talking to Vegas, but is also very much capable of deception, as we've seen with his duality.

Does the book give Vegas an answer?

Well... he didn't finish it, I assume, but also, I think the cover being knocked off was telling - I took it to mean that Vegas won't find his answer in books, or at least not in this one.

Also, the book ends with the destruction of humanity. He'd know this already, assuming he read the blurb on the inside cover or the back of the book.

But maybe we can say it would give Vegas a partial answer. It would tell him what not to do. The end of humanity in the book seems to be framed as an inconsequential, but net good thing... for the aliens. For Gun, that would be. For Vegas, following his father will only lead to destruction in the worst way possible - loss of identity, and then loss of, well, everything he currently cares about as an individual. Assuming his father's overwhelming power parallels that of the aliens, maybe fighting his father directly also isn't an option. So he needs to find a third option, which - as previously discussed - is provided by Pete.

——————————————————————

Okay that's all I've got for this post. Anyone who made it to the end here gets a little head pat and a big thank you from me <3 If I'm wrong, do please come shout at me about it (gently). My inbox and DMs are as always very much open for more discussion! :)

VegasPete Communication + Double Meanings Post

Follow-up VP Communication Post

Pete's Escape as a Final Test

#vegaspete #vegas theerapanyakul #kinnporsche meta #kinnporsche analysis #winnie's words #childhood's end #kp meta #kinnporsche episode 11 #kp ep 11 #kinnporche the series #kinnporsche #pete saengtham #gun theerapanyakul #vegas x pete

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

Text

Minnie's Daughter

Pairing: James Potter x McGonagall's Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 3,984

Warnings: Swearing? None? Fluffy

Summary: When James finds out his favorite proffesser has a daughter he can't seem to keep her from his head

A/n: I fuckin loved writing this, I wrote it all today and I'm now finishing it at 12:46 at night. This is #12 from the fanfic vote and got the second highest number of votes, hope y'all enjoy! Look at me posting twice in one week

“Potter!”

James flinched slightly before turning around a large grin plastered onto his visage, “Minnie! So good to see you!” He cheered

The older woman rolled her eyes on instinct, “I told you not to call me that James. I am your professor you shall treat me accordingly.” she spoke sharply.

“Jeez, Minnie you seem more angry than usual.” The boy shuddered in his usual fashion; dramatically.

She sighed rubbing her temple with one hand, “Just come with me, Potter.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He saluted smile not faltering despite the nerves which now slowly consumed him.

The two slowly made their way towards McGonagle’s office, something James knew a bit too familiarly. As they walked everything he had ever done flashed through his memory, the thousands of school rules he had abandoned, the laws he had broken, pranks he had pulled. What was he in for this time? It seemed there were far too many possibilities.

The second that the door shut behind him he opened his mouth.

“Minnie if this is about the Grindylows in the prefects’ bath, I had nothing to do with it, I swear on my life. That prank was simply untasteful and you know I would never do something so dull.” He defended putting on his most innocent mask.

“Potter you aren’t in trouble, I simply- wait, what Grindylows are you talking about?” She asked brows furrowed.

The boy’s eyes widened, “Oh, um, i-it’s nothing you need to worry about.” He spoke his voice gaining false confidence.

Another exasperated sigh left the professor’s lips but she didn’t address what she was sure to become a problem, “I simply wanted to talk to you about your plans for the quidditch team now that you are the captain.”

“Ooohhh,” The boy nodded in understanding, a wave of relief washing over him. Excitement built in his stomach as quidditch was mentioned and he bounced happily on his heels a shimmer appearing in his dark eyes. “I can show you my workouts and plays and stuff if you want.” He offered eagerly, “I have some written in my bag.”

“That sounds perfect James.” She grinned, “Bring them to my desk.”

He nodded walking forward while rummaging for the notebook he had spent the summer scribbling in. He found it and placed it on his professor’s desk before opening it’s worn cover and flipping through the pages.

Both individuals quickly became immersed in the plans as the captain explained his workouts, strategies and more. In fact, they became so engrossed they didn’t notice a third figure enter the room.

You rolled your eyes as you heard your mother jabber about the sport she loved so much. You sighed walking up towards the pair being purposefully quieter than needed. You suppressed a giggle as you neared the duo. You stood just to the right of the boy who was crouched over his notes, you then leaned your head so your chin was resting just above his shoulder, you could smell the cologne he wore but ignored its sweetness. Your lips centimeters from his ear you spoke, “Whatcha guys talkin’ about?”

The dark-haired boy let out a shrill shriek as your mother gasped in surprise.

You burst into a wave of laughter doubling over as the quidditch star glared at you, clearly offended.

“You scream like a four-year-old girl Potter.” You cackled blinking back tears.

James opened his mouth to shoot back an insult but something stopped him. You looked oddly familiar, your eyes gleamed in a recognizable fashion, your smile all too common to his view. Despite this, he had no clue who you were.

“Merlin y/n!” the professor gasped, “That was uncalled for.”

“Sorry, mum.” You giggled, “I couldn’t help it.”

In that exact moment, James’ bain imploded. His jaw dropped, eyes growing to the size of saucers as if he had just been slapped.

“Minnie! You have a daughter!” he gasped, completely appalled by this new information.

“James! You have a brain!” You mimicked him, false surprise emerging on your face.

“Y/n, be polite.” Your mother scolded although it was hard to miss the smirk on her lips.

James wasn’t even bothered by the jeer, he was far too preoccupied with attempting to figure out what the hell was happening.

“It’s nice to formally meet you, James.” You grinned sticking out your hand for him to take, “I’m y/n y/l/n. Minnie’s daughter”

He shook his head quickly his hair bouncing slightly before he took your hand, which he found surprisingly soft and slightly cold, “James Potter.” He mumbled before turning to the woman who had returned to the notebook.

“Minnie!” He shouted.

You giggled at the nickname biting your lip lightly.

McGonagall’s eyes snapped upward dangerously but at this point, James was too shocked to care.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had a daughter!?” He asked in complete dismay, “I thought we were friends!”

The witch simply rolled her eyes, “If you had paid any attention to those around you, you would have noticed I had a daughter years ago.” She spoke, seemingly unfazed.

“Minniiieeee. That’s not fair.” He pouted.

McGonagall shrugged.

“Oooo, are those quidditch notes?” You asked peering over James’ shoulder like an excited puppy. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Yeah sur-”

“No way.” your mother interrupted eyebrows raised as she peered over her glasses at you.

Now it was your turn to pout, “But mum.” You attempted to reason.

James choked in a breath as you widen your eyes and jutted out your bottom lip. Did you always look this adorable?

“Nu-uh.” She shook her head.

“Why not?” You whined placing your hands on the desk and leaning over it attempting to catch a glimpse of the ink-stained pages.

“Because last time I made the mistake of letting you ‘look through’ my quidditch notes, you charmed it and gave a copy to the Ravenclaw Captain.” She huffed, closing the notebook from your prying eyes.

James gasped again, “That was you!”

You nodded, smirking proudly.

“We lost the quidditch cup because of that!” He heaved.

You just shrugged, “Yeah well, we won because of it.”

He glared back at you, tucking the notebook protectively under his arm.

“Shit!” You swore glancing at the clock behind your mother’s desk.

“Language y/n!”

“Sorry, mum,” You yelled over your shoulder scrambling from the room, the door thudding against its frame as it closed behind you.

James opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by you dashing back into the room.

“I forgot what I came here for.” You groaned, “Where is my herbology textbook?”

McGonagall opened a drawer in her desk handing it to you.

“Thanks, mum.” You rushed as you snatched it from her and sprinted back towards the door.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had a daughter.” James sulked, his eyes glued to where you had resided moments before.

McGonagal was met with a hell storm when James spread the news of his new discovery. That hell storm’s name was Sirius Black. He had crashed into her classroom while she was in the middle of a class and began his tearful act. He whined and gasped and pouted, stating his betrayal and his loss of trust.

The professor tiredly massaged her closed eyelids as his antics continued.

Thankfully the other marauders were surprised but lacked the same gusto Black held, although James seemed to have a sudden problem on his hands. For some reason he couldn’t seem to pull you from his head, it was like you were cemented there, your giggle rinning in his ears as your voice echoed through his head. You were strangely captivating.

He wondered if that’s how his professor had been in her youth, although he refused to picture McGonagall as beautiful. You were simply alluring, your entire aura drawing him towards you. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but he found himself needing to be near you. He foolishly allowed himself to wonder if you thought the same of him.

Your heart pounded lightly as you snuck to the owlery, you fought a wide smile as you climbed the seemingly endless steps, taking them two at a time out of excitement. When you finally reached the top you let out a slight squeal noticing your large barn owl perched near the door.

You whistled once and let it land lightly on your outstretched arm. You then carefully untied the thread from his leg taking the note in your hand and dropping your arm as your owl departed. You unthreaded the scroll and began slowly down the stairs as you read it. By the second line of words, your throat went dry. You could feel your heart beginning to throb painfully as the back of your eyes began to sting.

You sped through the remainder of the letter a sob ripping from your throat as the words sunk into your skin. Your vision blurred and you grasped at the stone wall to your right. The wind tore overhead, suddenly the pleasant breeze felt threatening. You crashed downwards, the stone step you sat on causing shivers to conquer your body. You let tears drip down your cheeks and slide off your chin as you raked your hands through your hair. Another cry unlodged itself from your throat and echoed around you. You pulled one of your hands from your hair slamming it over your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut in mental agony. You bit your lip harshly bringing your shaking hands to your cheeks and wiping them dry. You gasped in a sharp breath blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. Finally, you shoved the letter into your robe pocket and stood continuing down the stairs as if nothing had happened.

You saw this coming, you thought, you knew it would, why are you so surprised?

You shake your head blinking rapidly again. You slipped into the castle feeling emptier than usual, your heart still aching, your head starting to. You ran your tongue over your lips, feeling just how dry they were. Water rose to your eyes again and you swore, leaning your head back and squeezing them shut.

“Y/n?”

You snapped your head forward, eyes opening wide.

“Are you okay?” James asked walking towards you, concern etched into his sharp features.

“Uh, hey James.” You spoke attempting to sound normal and failing miserably as your voice came out in a croak. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe you, he narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure?”

You coughed attempting to clear your suddenly clogged throat, “Yeah seriously, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look like it.” He responded eyebrows still furrowed.

“Thanks.” You muttered sarcastically attempting a small smile.

James felt his ears grow hot, hoping you didn’t notice in the dull light of his wand, “I-I didn’t mean it like that.” he spoke quickly, “I mean you look pretty today, umm I mean you always look pretty and uhh you just look a little worn out...But like not in a bad way! Just you uhh-”

Your giggle cut his rambles short, you bite your lip looking down at your feet, “You’re fine James, I was only joking.” You mumbled.

“Oh.” He replied sheepishly his cheeks flaming.

The hallway fell into an awkward silence, tension feeling thick, like the air on a humid day.

James coughed uncomfortably, “Do you want me to walk you to your common room?” he asked ruffling his hair, something you had the sudden urge to do.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You smiled sticking your hands in your pockets. You felt the letter you stowed away in your hand and you swallowed another sob.

The two of you walked in silence, the only noise being your shoes on the floors of the castle.

Your mind reeled, the words replaying, still raw in your head.

You’re always gone at that boarding school. I never even see you anymore… I don’t know y/n/n we just lost something.

You could feel tears begin to well again, your world falling blurry.

I just don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry.

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a strangled whimper halting where you stood and burying your head in your hands as your body shook.

James turned toward you in alarm, his heart throbbed as you cried into your hands attempting to muffle the sound. He stood there for a second before taking a step towards you and wrapping his arms around you shaking form.

You leaned into his touch, your head thumping as you wailed into the boy’s chest, your hands still pressed to your face.

“Hey, you’re okay.” James cooed as he gently ran his hand down your back, “You’re gonna be okay.”

He continued whispering sweet nothings in your ears, until you calmed a considerable amount, your sobs turning into shaky breaths and small sniffles.

Your face felt hot, embarrassment took you over as your head began to clear. You pushed yourself from James’ hold.

“I’m sorry,” You chocked out, “I must look pathetic right now and I barely know you and I’m a fucking mess, I’m so sorry James.” you gushed attempting to wipe your face clean.

James looked confused, “Y/n you have nothing to apologize for.” he spoke so softly you almost swooned.

You stood quietly shifting back and forth on your feet, unsure what you were supposed to do now.

“What happened?” James asked, “If someone hurt you y/n I will beat-”

You laughed lightly, “No one hurt me, James, I just um.” You took a large breath release it slowly, “I just got dumped.”

James's eyes widened, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” You huffed picking at your lips, “I mean it wasn't like I didn't see it coming, we had barely seen each other at all for the past year and honestly I don't think I have loved him since then, but we were together for so long, it just hurts. And I guess I’m just scared to be alone again.” You laughed bitterly at your own self-pitying rant.

“Did he just break up with you tonight?” James asked he seemed to hold a mixture of anger and concern in his dark eyes.

“Well umm, he’s a muggle.” You spoke awkwardly, “I just received the letter.”

“Oh.” James mentally slapped himself for repeating that word so many times.

You chuckled stiffly, “It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal, I mean I saw it coming, I just didn’t think it would happen this soon.”

“Obviously it’s a big deal y/n, you can be sad after a breakup.” He smiled down at you a certain shine in his eyes telling you there was more. “Do you still have the letter by any chance?”

You tilted your head in confusion, “I do.” You answered hesitantly, “Why?”

“Wanna burn it?”

You never wanted to do anything more.

The two of you sat shoulder to shoulder in the astronomy tower watching as the letter your ex-boyfriend had sent burned. You felt a sense of relief as it turned to ash, its words and meaning disintegrating before your eyes. You sighed suddenly feeling exhausted as if someone had flipped a switch and drained you of all your energy. Your eyelids became heavy, breaths became longer and soon you felt yourself drifting into a dreamless sleep.

James felt a light pressure on his shoulder and turned to see your head resting on it. Your y/h/c hair gleamed in the light of the small fire you had created. He smiled softly carefully brushing the loose strands of y/h/c from your face. He then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his heart thumping as his cheeks flushed red.

He softly shook his head, what was he doing?

You and James grew surprisingly close, surprisingly quickly. It was frightening how well you got along. Whispers coated the halls of some secret relationship that blossomed between you. You always laughed it off as James grew pink and denied it entirely.

The head boy had come to terms with his feelings for you the moment you fell asleep on his shoulder and he had been forced to carry you back to your common room solve an impossible riddle and get you in bed.

He wasn't as smooth as he thought he was when it came to you. When he had liked other girls it was easy, he would just make a few flirtatious remarks ad then ask them out, but with you, it was complicated.

First, there was the fact that you just got out of a two and a half year relationship. Then the fact that your mother was McGonagall. And of course, the fact that every time he tried to confess to you his words would get lodged in his throat and refuse to move.

Day after day he told himself he would tell you, he would share the feelings that lodged themselves into his brain and heart. But as cliche, as it sounded days, turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and soon he was sitting across from you in the library thinking about how badly he wanted to push your hair from your face and decorate your neck with hickeys.

But he kept his mouth closed cursing himself for every moment he let tick by which he didn't hold you in his arms.

When he hit month four Sirius said he was hopeless and Remus agreed. James had become completely intoxicated by you. The dreams he had of you becoming lewd, looking you in the eyes became difficult as he could only think of how your lips would taste.

Month five rolled around and James had decided he was hopeless, he had tried desperately to convey the message he kept bottled to you, but for being so smart you were extremely oblivious. Then the unthinkable happened.

“James, can you stay after class please,” McGonagal asked, her voice sharp, but her eyes soft.

James nodded numbly his mind wandering back to you, wondering if you had eaten enough for breakfast, you had slept in and only gotten there for the last five minutes. Maybe he would grab you a snack from the kitchens on his way to his next class and drop it off for you. Slughorn wouldn't mind if he was a bit late to potions.

The class was dismissed and he stood from his seat absentmindedly standing to leave.

“James!” McGonagall called and he snapped back to attention.

He walked up to her desk and stared at the women, deja vu making him blink rapidly.

“I'm not going to beat around the bush Potter, I know you like my daughter,” McGonagall spoke peering at the now blushing boy over her glasses.

James sputtered desperately for an answer, looking for a sentence to deny such a claim but he was cut off.

“James, I’m not here to hear your denial, I am here to beg you to ask her out.”

And his brain exploded again.

“She talks about you constantly, she cannot get out a sentence without your name being in it, it is simply ridiculous. Even worse you are getting spacey not only in the classroom but on the field. We almost lost our last game because you couldn't keep your head in the game. So please for both of your sakes, just ask her out.” McGonagall stared at the boy, looking desperate.

After a moment of silence, James spoke: “You aren’t mad that I like her?” He chose his words carefully, not sure if he was on thin ice or not.

“No James.” The professor sighed, “If any of the boys in this school were to date her I would hope it to be you, I know you, you’re a good kid.” She admitted painfully.

“You actually want me to ask her out?” James asked hesitantly, unsure if it was a type of test or if he was going crazy.

“Yes, James.” She huffed, “Please just do it so I don't have to hear about how adorable you look in hoodies ever again.”

James flushed again, “Y/n said I look cute in hoodies?”

“Oh, Merlin.” She muttered under her breath, “Just do it James.”

And with that, he ushered him out the door.

You hummed quietly, music blasting far too loudly through your walkman, you lay on your back a book held above your head as you thumbed through it.

You didn't take notice of your roommate busting into the room, a giggle on her lips as she smiled brightly.

She called out your name twice, groaning and rolling her eyes before walking over to you and plucking the headphones from your ears.

You sent her a glare.

“Don’t glare at me,” She huffed, “I'm just here to tell you that James Potter is waiting outside the common room for you.”

“He is?” You asked. You were pretty sure you didn't have plans with him today.

“No, I’m making it up.” She scowled rolling her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I'm going.” You exhaled loudly pushing yourself from the bed.

You wandered down the spiral stairs waving to a couple of people who seemed to be staring. You noticed a few girls whispering something to each other before catching your gaze, almost looking… jealous?

You frowned before exiting the common room.

“Hey James, what’s up…” Your voice died in your throat at the sight in front of you. There stood a blushing mess of a boy, a bouquet of bright yellow roses and daisies grasped in his hands. He was adorned in his school pants and dress shirt, a yellow hoodie thrown over it, his dark curly hair springing from underneath its hood making him look positively adorable.

He refused to meet your eye, his cheeks so red you swear they must have been on fire.

You felt your own cheeks heat as you stared up at him, his glasses perched lazily at the end of his nose as he stared at his feet.

He finally raised his gaze meeting your own and instantly regretted it. Your head was tilted slightly in confusion, your cheeks dusted pink, your eyes wide, shining with a doe-like innocence. You were simply stunning.

He pushed his glasses up his nose nervously and he spoke. He spoke the words he had wanted to say for five months.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stopped, jaw-dropping eyes growing wider, you were left completely speechless as your mind reeled with the words he just spoke.

James’ throat went dry and he nervously fiddled with his glasses again, “I totally get it if you don't feel the same way, I just I can't stop thinking about you, and honestly I just couldn't keep it bottled up anymore.”

You just stood there. So stunned your mouth forgot how to move.

“Say something,” James spoke his voice practically a whimper.

You still didn't speak, you weren't sure you trusted your words at that moment, so instead, you took two steps forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips onto yours.

The kiss was messy at first, your noses collided at the speed you pulled James towards you, his arms soon reached around you, bouquet still secured in one hand as he straightened you and plunged his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like honey and cinnamon. His scent surrounded you, the soft odor of expensive cologne and the tinge of sweat.

You pulled away slowly lips still touching a moment after the kiss broke, breath mingling as you looked up into his deep eyes, you could feel yourself begin to fall into them, your heart pounding at an inhuman rate.

“I love you too James.” You whispered and the smile he wore was brighter than anything you could ever imagine.

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

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lilyclawthorne · 3 years

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Hunting Palismen Thoughts

y'all I absolutely loved this episode

oh we're JUMPING right in with day of unity stuff huh. we didn't go from 0 to 10 we started at 10.

anyways, starting off, this whole thing is fascinating to me. I mean this literally looks like a small human city. who are the worthy that get to live here according to belos. if its a unification of the realms, what happens to the humans? do they live here too? how does this affect society?? so many questions

kiki is pissed and im starting to predict that the reason Lilith, GG, and Kiki were all apart of the same slide in the title isn't because Lilith will slide backwards like some were worried about, but that all three of them are people who will have betrayed the emperor at some point

what the fuck is belos. the thumping/punching he made was in time with the beat of a heart. makes me think of the heart behind his throne and how are they connected.

UNCLE?? OUR FAMILY IS GONE BECAUSE OF WILD MAGIC??

TITLE CARD CHANGES AHHH

oh im so worried amity's not there because her mom's mad about her hair. that being said, some of the students here I assumed were a bit older (like jerbo and viney) and ed & em also aren't here. could potentially be that their parents didn't want any of them involved with this palismen adoption? or maybe im trying hard to be hopeful she's not in huge trouble over the hair

FREWIN!! this is the outcome for the little guy in Bump's head is better than anything I could've thought of. Aside from his legitimate use of helping Bump see, I am curious though if this is a bit of a "hidden in plain sight" kind of thing as well to protect the little guy.

PALISMAN ADOPTION DAY!! I WAS RIGHT!! I guessed the forest palismen would get adopted and I'm so glad about it.

I love Eda's blazer. She's trying to look professional. I love that this is what she planned on her favor from BQ being. Just to help out some young witches and some lost palismen. She cares so much 🥺

ok but if the unification of the realms does end up happening, I totally see Gus being an ambassador to the human realm.

There's a lot of attention of Luz here, and I'm just imagining how a similar situation might've gone down on the human realm. I don't blame her for getting anxious here, because I feel like in the past attention like this would've gone far worse at her school. I appreciate that most people here are just calm asking questions that are intended to help (except you Boscha) or Eda just checking in on her.

"I've read stories like this, the main character always has to return home" very interesting. seeing how this show has emphasized how life isn't like fiction.

Eda's just listening in like a mom concerned about her child

Tired Luz is adorable.

LMAO WHY IS GG WHISTLING THE THEME SONG

These two have such an insane amount of sibling energy I love it. This situation? Me and my brothers have done this way too many times.

uh so can a coven mark actually be removed?? since the EC one is also on the wrist but Lilith definitely hasn't been seen with anything there? that's kind of a relief since I was worried that since coven marks can help control magic that her still having one could be bad for her

It's not unsurprising that GG, as a powerless witch, would be interested in wild magic and Luz's glyphs. the kind of stuff you don't need a bile sac for. that kinda sucks he knows there's something out there he probably could use, but isn't allowed to do so

Hunter!! I don't need to do a name meaning here this one's obvious. Also, this boy's gonna crack and swap sides I can tell.

This is the most shit-eating grin I think I've ever seen on Eda. She's so proud of herself and she should be!

I also love this because we literally started this show with Luz helping Eda and King rob the conformatorium, and now we're at King and Eda robbing somewhere to do something special for Luz 🥺

Kiki and GG are so petty with each other, it's not just Kiki and Lilith. This is the whole workplace dynamic isn't it.

GG's room design definitely came from the Lilith bedroom design didn't it. Also I love the little Sprig plush!! I think that's a Big City Greens reference in there too but I've never watched that show.

I am very concerned about him and this palisman too. Not about him but just about Belos finding the palisman.

My one other thing I wanted to mention is I definitely feel like I'm seeing more and more disability metaphor in the show. If we see Eda's curse and her subsequent loss of a power as a disability, then GG/Hunter being born without magic could be considered a disability too. He's only been given access to one way of doing magic and it seems to limit him, he's being cut off from a different way of doing magic, the glyphs that Eda is learning, which clearly seem to be able to allow the user to do magic almost anywhere and could be more effective than Belos' artificial magic.

I'm also curious about Bump, he has the kind of palisman Belos wants to do away with, but it's not just a way to do magic for him. It's an aide for his vision. Belos' ideals would also be taking away something from him or other witches who may also be using their palismen as an aide.

#hunting palismen #toh #the owl house #owl house

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wannaliveattheholidayinn · 3 years

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Ok, But Seriously, I Have Thoughts

I have... really mixed feelings about this episode, so I'm gonna talk about those feelings. And if my feelings about zep as a show and this season come out during that... so be it. (Seriously, this got long. I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry). Also spoilers for the new ep below the cut, but y'all should've been able to guess that

- I... Zimon seriously deserves just so much better. We saw them as a couple together for three episodes, and they honestly weren't explored enough. Zimon... and this is a very personal opinion, but they really do strike me as a couple who never fully leave the honeymoon phase... like ever. Like, of course, they'll fight and disagree on a lot of things, but they also can have adult children, and just kind of act like newlyweds even if they've been married for over twenty years. And again, I know that's a very personal opinion, but I mean... we all knew c/arkeman was gonna be endgame, and it just feels like zimon was never given an actual chance.

- However, I do very much appreciate that their breakup was not messy, there's still clearly a ton of respect for the other on both of their sides, and that Simon is okay.

- "We didn't belong together." No, you fucking did.

- I am not going to stop writing Zimon fanfic either. In fact, this might spur me to write more and work harder on writing Zimon fanfic.

- Rose. Fucking. Deserves. Better. I'm not even gonna elaborate on this one. We all know it.

- Despite the fact that I fucking hate c/arkeman and that it was very, very rushed... I'm giving acting and singing props to Jane. I Melt With You is a song that's extremely personal to me. It helped get me through a point in my life where... I was constantly feeling at war with others, myself, and even felt unsafe in my own home (something I still feel today, no matter how irrational I know it is). I just generally feel a strong connection to every version of the song bc of that, whether it's the original or the Bowling for Soup cover (that was in Sky High!), and... Jane just has a way of making me feel safe when she sings. So, I really, really loved her cover.

- Um... yeah, I'm gonna be real, I don't like the idea of Max having powers. I don't know, I just think it kinda changes the whole original concept of the show, and I'm not a big fan of that...

- Simon! Simon working on changing SPRQ Point!!!!

- I do not really like how they handled Simon's racial bias/systemic racism in coding storyline *after* episode six (aka it only really being mentioned in passing, not being further explored, etc.), but,,, credits due where it's due I guess? I like how they handled him going to Danny Michael Davis, and how DMD listened.

- Sidenote, I kinda find it weird we as a fandom don't refer to him as Danny... it's Danny Michael Davis, DMD, or fucking Willy Wonka jokes. Makes sense I guess.

- Um... the writing was just... so lazy. Yeah. It's... really sad, I think that the show would've benefitted from even one less ep. But on the other hand... lazy writing is lazy writing.

- I think it would've been better - honestly - if Zoey's feelings of loss hadn't been connected to Max in a romantic way, but in a platonic/familial way. We didn't see a ton of their friendship, and yeah,, I hate Max, but there are a few moments there where you can see a legitimate friendship that's really sweet. I also think if they had maybe explored Zoey's fear of losing Simon as well as Max and centered the finale more on Zoey telling Simon about her power, it would've just been a lot better.

- But... honestly, after I just aired out all my issues with this episode (and the season too kinda),,, I honestly liked it. I hate that Zimon broke up and I just generally hate cl*arkeman but... this ep had some really great moments. Zoey and Mitch were beautiful to see again. Mctobin, Davidemily, and Mo x Perry were all absolutely my favorite parts of the episode. Hell, I'll even admit I... well I don't wanna say laughed considering I was so close to crying, but I let out a weird, breathy noise resembling a laugh when Zoey just blurted out she and Simon had broken up.

I don't want to say it was a bad episode, because I did honestly, enjoy ~parts~ of it... but... it wasn't even that cl/arkeman happened, I knew it would, but how it did... it just honestly (my g.od i need to stop writing that word) seemed like they were trying to kill off or like... fucking quash *any* hope Zimon shippers may have had,,, and the writing was just so fucking lazy, I just...

I started the show after dance one night because my teacher showed us the Help! number bc he was an extra in it. And I had already been intrigued by the few ads I had seen for it. So, my mom and I watched it, and we loved it. So we kept watching. And it was good! It was really good! Sure it could be cheesy, but... that didn't matter. I latched on...

I don't know if, ZEP is gonna get renewed, and if it is, I don't know if I'll watch it if/when it does. I latch on to shows really fucking hard when I do latch on. It's why I keep rewatching The Good Place and why I'll never forgive Freeform/Disney/Marvel for canceling Cloak and Dagger. The way I latch onto things is probably a bit unhealthy. And the fact of the matter is, despite everything, my overwhelming feelings about ZEP are positive. And I latched on. I'd honestly do it all over again.

I have a lot of feelings about this fandom and this show, both positive and negative. Still, I love it. Unconditionally. Ultimately, I don't care if Zoey ends up with Max or Simon (though, seriously, she and Simon are made for each other). It's a good fucking show, ships shouldn't be everything that matters.

I began lurking in this fandom when I was fifteen. I began posting fanfic for it when I was sixteen. I'm almost seventeen now. I was planning to get Tumblr when I was seventeen. I also knew I wouldn't forgive myself if I hadn't made my presence here known if it didn't get renewed.

I want to thank @simon-haynes because, uh, holy fuck, I adore you. Running a blog for fandom is something I couldn't even fathom, especially when a large portion of the fandom doesn't like your ship. I legitimately can't believe you followed me.

Thank you to @jennakang. You are, honestly, one of the best writers I've ever read from. You were so incredibly supportive of my writing on ao3, despite the fact you didn't know who I was, and that really meant the world to me. Thank you so much for your contributions to the fandom. Also, uh, fun fact, I was the anon who, after you expressed the want to write the quarantined Zimon fic, sent in that ask that was like "please do!" and also "hope I'm not being pushy about this". I don't know if you remember that at all, but your response meant the world to me.

And uh, lastly @myheartissetinmotion. Um, wow. I know we barely know each other, but I can honestly say, you have been my anchor for this whole show. I love both your Tori content on TikTok as well as just zep content you do on there, and how you wrote her into zep on ao3. I personally like to think of you as the pioneer of Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist Tok. You were pretty unbiased when it came to ships on there, and that made me feel safe in a place where there were virtually no zimon shippers. Your content was funny, and I always found myself laughing or screaming "accurate" at it. I know, I'm the nuisance who every few months DMs you about something zep related, but I hope you know, you made me feel both seen and somewhat appreciated in this fandom. I cannot thank you enough, Isabella 💗

I know Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist may not be ending. But this still oddly feels like the end of an era. I'm not leaving the fandom, I plan to keep posting fanfic for it and everything. I just want everyone who may be reading this to know I love this fandom and I would not take any moment here back.

Also, this is me formally asking for a link to a Discord group chat since I know it exists but I'm too scared to actually ask any of you for it directly.

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damienthepious · 3 years

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owo please have a fic comprised of 90% tender touching

Less Like A Deadly Weapon

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Rilla, Lord Arum

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, Early Relationship, Post-Episode: s02e36-41 Second Citadel - The Battle at World's End, Facial Shaving, Trust, (lots of tender touching tbqh)

Summary: Sir Damien asks for a little bit of help with his grooming, now that he is no longer too busy charging through the wilds on a desperate rescue mission to bother with something as mundane as shaving.

Notes:my work life has continued to be trouble, but i've wanted to get this one out for a while now! hope y'all enjoy, kiss a lizard, et cetera, i love you! title from the song Sword by IAN SWEET.

There are not all that many mirrored surfaces within Lord Arum's Keep. The lizard is a proud creature, certainly, but he is apparently not afflicted with that particular breed of vanity. They've been recuperating for a few days already (the first two tucked safe in a hidden outpost in the swamp, the latter inside Lord Arum's enormous, living home) before Damien happens to finally notice, leaning over a cupped leaf of water that the Keep has provided as a washbasin, that he looks-

Not terrible, really. Rilla has taken great care to treat his injuries, and the Keep has within it a fascinating system of running water with which to bathe, and Damien has slept more soundly these last few days than he has in... months, perhaps? He thinks he may have lost track, somewhere in the darkness of his pursuit. He does not look terrible.

He does look somewhat unkempt.

He thinks he lost the tie for his hair... possibly while stuck upon that impostor slug? No great loss, he supposes, and his hair is clean now even if it hangs in loose waves, tucked behind his ears. The shadows beneath his eyes have mostly faded, scratches and bruises softened by Rilla's careful treatment and a little bit of time. But his face- well, he has gone rather a bit beyond stubble, at this point.

He hasn't shaved, by his estimations, since the morning the Festival of the Three began.

On the proverbial (literal?) warpath while traveling with Sir Angelo and the others in turn, he hadn't had a mind for much beyond finding Rilla. He hadn't a mind for anything, really, and taking care of his appearance was certainly not among his priorities, beyond splashing his face when his fury heated his cheeks, or when he needed to wash away some fresh tears or lakeside muck or specks of ash. His straight razor remained packed away for the entire journey.

(He remembered it, once or twice, along the way, in those too-brief moments of rest. He remembered, but he did not reach for it. He did not want to take the blade into his hand, truthfully. It is not shaped at all like anything made for combat, but still the edge sang and resounded through Damien's memory, he couldn't take the shaft into his hand, could hardly look at it without hearing that hissing voice in his mind, couldn't bear the echo of like a butcher, little knight, treat it with some respect-)

(That particular memory feels somewhat different, now, than it did then. Warmer, perhaps.)

Well. He supposes he should take care of the situation, now that he may finally slow down enough to do so.

His arm is an issue, of course. That pig managed to break his dominant limb, whether in luck or in strategy Damien dare not guess. He could attempt the task with his off hand, but-

Rilla has instructed him rather fiercely not to overexert himself, while they nurse their wounds together.

And, frankly, Damien needs little excuse to request his flower's soothing hands upon him. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that Rilla has assisted him after such an injury, after all.

She agrees with a grin the instant he broaches the subject, one of her hands teasingly on his lower back as she all but shoves him towards the washroom.

"Oh, Saints, yes. C'mon, I miss that pretty face of yours," she says brightly, and Damien feels himself flush as she lovingly manhandles him to sit by the washbasin. "I wanna see it again."

She nudges him to sit back, drapes a warm damp cloth over the bottom half of his face and then presses a kiss to his temple for good measure, making his eyelids flutter closed in pleasure. She plays with his hair for a minute or so after that, chattering enthusiastically about the understanding of the Keep's aqueduct structures that she's managed to glean so far, and then she starts working up the lather as she speaks instead. Damien tries not to mourn the lack of her hands upon him; he knows they'll return soon enough, after all.

Arum finds them when Rilla is nearly done working the foam into his softened beard, his expression wary and uncertain as Rilla greets him with a cheery wave.

He eyes Damien with curiosity, and from his position leaning back in his seat with Rilla's hand pressing to his clavicle, Arum's attention makes Damien feel more than a little exposed.

"Dare I even ask?" the lizard murmurs, his tone a perfect mixture of amusement, irritation, and confusion as he gestures at- well, at the entire scene laid out before him, Damien supposes.

"Damien needs a trim," Rilla says warmly as she finishes swirling the lather below his jaw on one side, and then she tilts his face the other way to finish up. "And he decided to be a good boy about it and actually ask for help instead of trying to muddle through on his own with just his non-dominant arm."

"Is that why you look so- so smug about it, then?" Arum asks, arching his brow imperiously even as his eyes draw over the brush and the razor and the bottles of oils and creams and balms with inquisitive attention.

"I like when Damien lets me take care of him a little bit," she croons, and Damien makes a small, warbling noise of protest, looking up at her with pleading eyes. She meets his gaze with a grin, though, utterly unfazed. "It means he's not overexerting himself. Plus, he just deserves to feel pampered now and then, don't you think?"

She shoots her sharp eyes towards Arum, and the lizard looks vaguely startled for a moment before he glances towards Damien again, a light growl rumbling in his chest.

Damien swallows automatically as he locks eyes with Arum, and then the monster's expression softens, and he steps closer, his curiosity clearly getting the better of him.

"Of course he does," Arum agrees in a murmur, and then he tilts his head. "I should mention, however... what I am gathering, here, is that you lot can, in fact, take off your hair."

Rilla pauses as she sets the brush back into the cup of lather, and then she scowls at the monster while Damien blinks in confusion.

"Okay," she drawls, "technically, sure, in the same way that you can trim back your claws and have them grow back eventually, but it's still not the same as just taking off your damn cape and washing it when someone playfully gets antifungal spray on it-"

"I feel as if I may be missing some context," Damien murmurs, and Rilla rolls her eyes as Arum chuckles low.

"Not important," she says, waving a hand absently through the air before she settles beside Damien again and lifts the razor into her hands. She angles his jaw with her other hand, then presses her fingers beside his ear as she angles the blade, and a few feet away Arum makes a small, confused noise.

Damien blinks, and Rilla pauses to glance towards Arum as well. His eyes narrow at the attention, but his frill still flutters uncertainly by his neck as he watches the pair of them with clear confusion.

"Part of your grooming routine involves scraping a blade against your skin, now?" he asks, dubious, a flash of alarm in the violet of his eyes, and Damien feels affection thrum hot in his lungs as Rilla gives a gentle laugh at the lizard's expense.

"Very, very carefully," Rilla amends. "But... yeah? Pretty much. We could just trim it back, but Damien wants a proper shave, so."

"Hrm," the monster says, obviously unconvinced as his eyes narrow further.

"Do you wanna help out?" Rilla asks, drawing her hands and the razor back away from Damien's skin altogether, and Arum blinks, the dubiousness in his expression instantly replaced with a flustered sort of panic.

"Ah- well, I- certainly I should- should leave it in your hands, I think, Amaryllis, I don't-"

"It's not that hard," Rilla says, her tone casual and easy. "I know you're good with a blade."

His frill swoops, half-flaring out before it sinks to flutter by his neck, almost distracting from the way Arum's face twists into a wince. "Not in this particular context, Amaryllis," he says quickly. "I- I am not adept in using a blade to do anything except to draw blood, I-"

Rilla leans towards him, taking his wrist gently in her free hand and rubbing her thumb soothingly across the scales over his pulse. He makes a small noise at that, a gentle whirring at the back of his throat as the tension in his shoulders eases just a little, and then Rilla presses the handle of the razor into Arum's hand, her mouth curling into a smile. "C'mon. You'll be fine, I promise."

"Amaryllis-"

"It's alright," Damien says gently, his face feeling rather hot beneath the lather. "You- if you are uncomfortable, clearly you need not... you should not feel that we are forcing you. I would-"

"You are not forcing anything, honeysuckle, it is only-" Arum snaps his mouth shut, then glances down at the razor in his hand suspiciously, as if it might misbehave. "I don't... it is only that it seems... a rather large degree of... of..."

"Trust?" Rilla finishes after a moment, her tone surprisingly gentle, and Arum jerks his eyes up towards her, his expression going entirely still.

Damien's ribcage feels too small, his heart wreathed in heat as he recognizes the nervous tension curling the corners of Arum's mouth. Trust-

Of course it is rather a large choice, to press a blade into the hands of a monster, to close his eyes and bare his throat and simply trust.

It is as large a choice as a monster tossing his own blades aside into the mud, hoping that the human in front of him will choose to stay.

"Rilla can show you," Damien says, keeping his volume low so as to prevent his voice from shaking. "I have seen your clever fingers work, Lord Arum. I know that you are more than capable of the task, if you would be so kind as to offer your assistance."

He glances towards Rilla, and she flashes a warm sort of grin in agreement and nods quickly. "You can just watch, if you're really, actually not comfortable. I know I can be pushy, but Damien's right. I wouldn't want to-"

"If- if you think that I..." Arum trails off, then exhales a vague hiss. "If you- trust that I can. That I won't- won't..."

"I trust that I can teach you what to do," Rilla says with a shrug and a smirk, but her eyes are fond and warm as Arum gives her a look that Damien would describe as a pout.

"I trust you," Damien offers, smiling very slightly and lifting a hand to brush his fingers down the scales of Arum's forearm. "I know you'll be careful."

"I have cut you before, honeysuckle," Arum reminds, his voice soft enough that Damien cannot quite pluck out the feeling beneath the words.

Damien smiles, curling his fingers around Arum's wrist and drawing it closer. "Once," he says, his voice quite low. "Only once, and I know that you would never willingly do so again."

Arum's eyes flick between his own, vivid and soft, and then he exhales with a hesitant sort of smile, his chest rumbling with that low, inhuman purr that Damien is growing very quickly to adore.

"Ridiculous," Arum murmurs, unconvincing and fond, and then he sighs and raises his eyes towards Rilla again. "Very well. Show me, then."

Rilla grins again, something of the fox in the curve of it, and she guides Arum's hands to gently angle Damien's head.

She instructs him firmly and carefully, her hand curled around his own scaled one and guiding for the first few strokes, showing the lizard the proper way to hold the blade, the correct angle, the slow downward stroke, and Damien-

Both of their attention so keen upon him feels like too much altogether, the intensity of their eyes making his heart hammer fast in his chest, and after the first stroke of the razor he allows his eyes to slip closed. Rilla's fingers tilt his face gently where she needs, and then Arum's cooler, more delicate touch supplements her own intermittently.

Rilla guides Arum more directly to outline the shape of Damien's goatee, and then again when they tilt his head back to draw the razor down beneath his jaw, her low monologue of instruction both methodical and gentle. Arum, for his part, remains mostly silent with the exception of small noises of acknowledgment, accompanied beneath by his subtle rumbling purr as his uncertainty fades.

Damien blinks his eyes open when Rilla maneuvers him forward to rinse his face after the first pass, and then she shows Arum how to lather him for the second, meticulously explaining each step as they go.

Damien watches Arum's face this time, utterly enthralled by the depth of the focus readily apparent in his expression as he draws the blade so utterly careful against Damien's skin.

Arum only notices his gaze just as he is about to finish, and the monster exhales with a worried flick of the tongue before he glances towards Rilla, a silent inquiry that makes her smirk, and then she reaches to grip his wrist again to help him with the finishing touches.

Arum leans him forward this time to rinse his face ("Cold water for this one," Rilla chirps helpfully), and then Rilla gently pats the balm into his cheeks, leaning close enough to place a playful kiss on the tip of his nose, making both himself and Arum laugh in tandem.

Arum helps him to his feet, then, and he reaches up carefully, ghosting his hands over Damien's newly bare cheeks without quite touching him, his expression utterly focused, utterly enraptured.

"There you are, honeysuckle," Arum murmurs, and then he brushes his thumb gently down the stripe of hair left on Damien's chin. He repeats the motion with a subtle smile, and this time Damien kisses the pad of his thumb, and the monster exhales in surprise. "Ah-"

"Thank you for the assistance, Lord Arum," Damien whispers against Arum's scales, and the lizard flicks his tongue before he slips his hand further up, cupping Damien's cheek properly.

"Yeah, no kidding," Rilla says with a grin, clearly enjoying the way that Arum's frill flares with his embarrassment. "Thankyou."

Arum wrinkles his snout, but his expression softens again when Damien lifts a hand to cradle Arum's own against his cheek. "I... yes, I- I suppose it wasn't all that difficult, after all. With proper instruction."

"Told you," Rilla chimes, still smiling, and then she leans to press a tender sort of kiss to Damien's other cheek, humming lightly.

"And... you didn't mind, honeysuckle?"

"Mind?" Damien repeats, and Arum ducks his head, his frill fluttering again.

"Rather- it doesn't- it isn't a bother to have me- to have us-"

Damien laughs helplessly, utterly baffled that Arum might think he would find his and Rilla's assistance a bother, and then he pulls Arum's hand down, so he can cradle it in both of his own and press it over his heart instead.

"Oh," he says, trying to sound less breathless than he feels. "You- oh, Arum-"

Arum makes another flustered noise, glancing away with the folds of his frill flushing a darker purple. "Honeysuckle-"

"My only concern is how completely overwhelmed I feel to have the attention and hands of yourself and Rilla both so intently upon me, all while I cannot even speak my heart for fear of impeding your delicate care, my darling monster, oh-"

Rilla laughs fondly at his rambling, and Arum blinks for a moment before his frill settles again, his expression going pleased and embarrassed both.

"Well..." he says slowly, and then he presses his palm more firmly over Damien's heart. "That explains this racing, here, I suppose, if our attention... overwhelms you. I was concerned that you- that you- were afraid I would- cut you."

Rilla snorts incredulously as Damien exhales a pained noise, and then he leans forward, still holding Arum's hand to his chest as he presses his face into Arum's neck.

"Oh-" he feels his throat going tight, and he shakes his head lightly against Arum's scales to fight the feeling back. "Rilla is right, you are completely absurd, Arum- I-"

"We trust you, Arum." She folds her arms over her chest, giving Arum a fond, exasperated smile. "I thought that was pretty obvious by now? Saints but you're dense sometimes. I know you trust us, or we wouldn't be here in the Keep, so why wouldn't it be mutual?"

Arum growls, glaring at Rilla over Damien's head, and then he sighs, lowering his face so he may press his own cheek against Damien's, flicking his tongue out beside his ear before he murmurs. "Old habits, I suppose. It is... hard to believe my good fortune, at times, with the pair of you."

Damien tilts his head to the side, kissing Arum's jaw, and then his cheek when the lizard exhales a pleased little breath.

"Well," Rilla says warmly, "maybe you'll be used to it by the next time Damien needs help shaving, yeah?"

Arum raises his head again with a laugh, and Damien feels Rilla's hand drift down his back as she leans to kiss Arum over his shoulder.

Arum lifts his hands to Damien's face, then, tilting his chin up so he may grace Damien with a kiss as well, the thin scaled line of his mouth pressing against Damien's lips with delicate care before he meets Damien's eyes with an affectionate smile.

And with Arum's cool palms cupping his tender cheeks, with Rilla's warm hand on the small of his back, Damien knows with utter certainty that he has entrusted his heart to the most worthy care in the world.

End Notes: bless wikihow articles i have never shaved a face in my goddamn life, let alone with a straight razor

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #sir damien #amaryllis of exile #lord arum #pblease enjoy i actually kinda like this one aaaa

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blonde-toddy · 4 years

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Random and Not So Random thoughts while watching Bridgerton: Season 1, Episode 4

Oh they're at court.

Also she's not a commoner. She's the daughter of a Viscount.

Another Daphne brag moment, but homegirl really got the juice. She's bagging mfs over hand holding and dancing.

Violet dgaf. She's hungry now, damn it!

Oh he's buying jewelry already.

Ooooooh the way she imagines the Duke behind her. Honey yes. That scene was hot.

Too bad she came back to reality.

Hyacinth is my spirit animal.

Lady Whistledown ain't ready to write Simon off yet. She's waiting on the Dukes Hail Mary.

Shit. So am I.

I have never seen someone look so depressed in such an exquisite piece of jewelry. It's like the necklace chokes her. Testament to the acting and script for that though. It truly represents a trap.

Awww Simon is wearing that heavy bag out. I would say poor Simon, but he made this damn bed.

I love Alice and Will. They are the kind of wholesome love I need to keep my heart steady watching this damn show. She's his rider and I love it.

Alice roasting Simon over Daphne. Get. Yo. Girl. Mane.

I always cringe when a man tells a woman to smile.

Poor Marina. Portia is determined to find her the oldest mf. She's playing smart though.

Those damn dingbat sisters.

Maybe Penelope does care.

Well at least the least mean sister got a caller. They're awkward/cute.

Eloise girl, I love feathers in hair. Your one dimensional preaching is wearing me out again.

A boxing match date? I'd be down.

The prince legit seems like a nice guy. And Daphne is trying....but she's CLEARLY hung up on Simon.

Oh look Simon's losing focus on his friend because he's too focused on Daphne and the prince.

Ok mf! Take that shit off and roll them sleeves up. It turns me on too sis!

Oh look at the sweet family talk with the prince. Girl he'd give you any and everything you wanted.

But you and the Duke are just ATE TF UP about each other!

Mondrich for the win!!!!

Oh Benny. You've got a new friend. But what kind of friend? Give me more of this.

Well Anthony is smug and pleased as punch. Simons courtship of Daphne has ended. She has her perfect suitor. And Simon is leaving England to go rake and fuckboy about.

Though Simons hard slammed shot when the prince approached says he's anything but happy.

Violet always worries about the wrong shit.

Hyacinth always wants to know the good shit.

Be Hyacinth.

Oh fuck the prince is ready to propose. That shit escalated quickly.

SIMON!!!!!! Now would be a good time for that Hail Mary.

Good job Anthony. Way to realize that the women in your life have agency over THEMSELVES.

Violet always beating around the damn bush.....but she is still 100% #teamduke

Aw Daphne you're gonna break down snitching on yourself.

If it wasn't real with Simon you wouldn't be so ate up about it, and you would be rocking tf out of that necklace from the prince instead of crying.

There's a reason for the black in her outfit. For Daphne, who is normally all pastel blues, that black is her mourning. It's her 'attempting' to put to death her feelings for the Duke. And also I think mourning the loss if the bond they shared. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. But this seems like a very deliberate show with it's details.

Danbury ripping Simon open before she sends him off. Big energy.

She knows everything you thick headed mf. Why won't you just listen?! You letting your rank ass daddy live rent free in your soul.

He's so jaded it hurts.

Ayyyye this Trowbridge party looks like the real deal.

Oh gawd. Marina and the old man.

Mr. Finch and the cheese frock. Jesus who wrote this. I love it

Cressida you have been Daphnes biggest hater all season and now you're mad that she's with the prince. He was never gonna marry yo basket headed ass anyway.

Oooooh shit Simon sees the 'intimate painting' and has 2nd thoughts.

Go. Get. Yo. Girl.......Bitch.

Ooooh Benny's at the new homies spot and it's lit!

Naked models, easels, mingling between the classes. Yes indeed.

2nd sons having fun. Hell yes.

Damn Even Sienna at the ball...as a performer of course.

And Anthony looking tongue tied.

Violet....you need to chill. There take another sip.

Portia trying to shade Lady Trowbridges style is comical. Both of y'all bitches gaudy as hell.

Oh shit Phillipa lost her man.

Wtf is wrong with Lord Featherington?

And wtf are you doing Eloise?

Ayyye she just let her have it. You think servants have the time to be Lady Whistledown? I'm dead.

"Get out."

Ok Penelope with your saucy ass.

Well fuck! You just pushed him right to Marina. You played yourself boo.

Oooh the prince is about to shoot the big shot and Daphne keeps running away.

She done spotted Simon. Its over.

Fuck off Cressida.

Rip that mf necklace off girl.

Simon followed her ass outside.

"Miss Bridgerton." Motherfucker, call her Daphne.

"I came to say goodbye." Man. Go to hell.

Daphne serving those barbs. You not ready to keep playing with her.

Damn, Simon. If you're not gonna give her what she wants, get out the way.

Tell his ass sis.....even if you don't believe it yourself.

Really Simon? You stand there quiet as a mf church mouse whiles she's pleading with you to say something.....then you take off after her once she walks away from your shit

I swear.....men.....yall mfs really do shit like this. Speak up! Or...LET. ME. GO.

She's really cracking on his ass and I'm here for it....but wtf us up with his "I forbid you." Who tf are you to me? I'm glad she ain't playing with his ass.

Ooooh he called her Daphne and grabbed her.

Oh honey this is what fulfillment feels like, isn't it?

He's definitely fulFILLing her all the way up!

Oh shit Anthony caught them.

At least he finally landed some decent blows on Simon.

This RAKE ass mf still won't marry her.

Oh Simon.....for once.....Anthony is in the right and you the wrong. You are really about to die over your fucking daddy issues. Boy bye. Again.

Poor Daphne.

Wait, how did Cressida know she was in the garden?

That can't be good.

At least Benny is having a good time.

Dearest Portia, when you go looking for shit, it usually falls in your lap.

Marina keeps carrying on about Colin and Penelope is crushed.....or scheming....or both.

Aww Penelope let her hurt feelings cause a fight with her bestie. Her jealousy is seething.

Daphne still out here having to educate Anthony....though I get the need for the duel. And he still thinks he's running something.

Ooooh this is why they brought up 2nd sons.....Anthony is prepping Benny to take over. Well Benny, at least you had one good night out.

Colin caring for drunk Violet is parenting goals one day.

Oh great, now yall wanna bring Colin into the shit.

Simon raiding Wills spot for booze was so uneccesarily loud.

So Berbrooke alludes to her dishonor and Simon caves his fucking head in. Simon legit dishonors her and he's just like ,"Kay, guess I'll go get shot now." Someone get this man some therapy.

Oh great Anthony is back at Siennas door with more of his bullshit. Girl. Close that door.

No, not after you've let him in and climbed his torso. I guess y'all fuckin again.

He lost all the money and now he's fucked up.

Her face while he cried, is literally the face of every woman sick of a mediocre man's shit.

Oooh now they're all riding off into battle like the fucking idiots they are.

Colin is so pure.

I knew that Cressida shit would come back.

Well at least Anthony was willing to care for Sienna in his death....but damn mf, treat me right while WE'RE here.

Oh the dramatics of drawing a gun.

Nobody is here for Simon's weak ass apologies and I'm okay with that.

Hurry hurry Daphne.

Daphne down....but she's alright.

Call them idiots just like they are.

Simon still being a hoe about this shit. You really about let her be ostracized because you're a fuck boy.

Ultimate fuck boy line...I can't be with you because I love you too much. Fucking hell.

They do obviously love each other though.

Hold up.......you CAN NEVER, or WILL NEVER give her children. Don't play this like you have a reproductive issue.

So your reason for not marrying her is that you "can never" give her children and you know that's what her heart desires.

You playing with fire, Simon.

I wonder how much shit I let slide with his character just because he's portrayed so well by the phenomenal Regé-Jean Page.

No, I do love Simon's damaged ass. He just makes me so mad.

So the duel resumes......or not.

Daphne said, "Fuck them kids, give me my husband." Or something like that.

Well. This us an uncomfortable arrangement even though both of these idiots are in love.

Simon's evasion will most certainly come back to bite him in the ass.

But I'll be here with my popcorn and tissue, rooting for these cool kids to make it!

#bridgerton #bridgerton reaction #bridgerton season 1 #simon x daphne #daphne x simon #lady danbury #the duke of hastings #daphne bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #penelope featherington #marina thompson #portia featherington #will mondrich #violet bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton

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justallamaimaginingthings · 4 years

Text

Life And Death Part 1 {Klaus Hargreeves x Reader}

A/n: YOUR BITCH IS BACK Y'ALL. After countless sleepless nights, a couple panic attacks, exams and a hell of a year, I finally got accepted into university. I'm celebrating by watching Umbrella Academy and have fallen straight up in love with Klaus. Idk still if the blog will return to running the way it used to be, but I'll try my best to catch up. I've written some stuff while I was gone but everything's in Greek. However that gave me the idea to experiment with the third POV and I’d like to hear your opinion about it. This one was not requested so we have a female reader but I’d be happy to try writing for a male one as well, since according to Wikia Klaus is pansexual.

Words: 1900ish II TUA Masterlist

Part 1 II Part 2

“Maybe you should take a break, it's been almost an hour and it's not working” She broke the silence after yet another failed attempt to make real contact with him.

“No, I can do this” Klaus insisted, even though he could feel his tiredness threatening to get the best of him. Almost a year had passed since the first time his powers had allowed him to actually touch her and as time went by he was getting increasingly desperate to feel her again. Unfortunately for the both of them, his powers seemed to work on their own, as the ability to physically interact with spirits appeared under the strangest -if not most inconvenient- times possibly and disappeared soon after, leaving Klaus debating the control he possessed over himself even after a whole painful year of sobriety.

“I know you can do this Klaus, but working yourself to exhaustion isn't the way. You need to give it time” She explained softly and the affectionate tone in her voice caused a small smile to appear on the corner of his lips. Truth was that behind the collected and calm exterior she tried to show, she needed this to work just as bad as he did, if not even more. Making contact with an actual living human being was the first thing she had felt in years and it had almost made her feel alive again and the fact that said person was Klaus of all people was exhilarating.

“I've given it an entire year, how much more am I supposed to?” He asked with a disappointed sight, leaning back into the grass. For a moment his eyes travelled to her and he felt the same familiar feeling tugging at his heart strings. She had been the one to help him deal with the whole apocalypse disaster, having stuck with him through everything. During the last year she had been his anchor, helping him remain sober and gain better control over his powers and somewhere along the way he had fallen in love with her. He hadn't even realized it was happening, until one day it all came crushing down on him.

“This is going to sound crazy, but I have a theory” She said, startling him out of his thoughts and back to reality.

“In case you didn't notice, love, crazy is all I do” He answered playfully causing her to roll her eyes at him, even though she felt a shiver running down her spine at the sound of the nickname.

“Fair enough. I think your powers are connected with your emotions” She started but rushed to continue, upon seeing him raising an eyebrow “Hear me out. The first time it happened you were going through withdrawals. You were desperate and angry at yourself and somehow you channeled it to me. The next time you were having a panic attack and the time after that you were heartbroken over Dave. Every time there's a breakthrough you're experiencing something intense” She concluded and even though everything that had come out of her mouth was true, he couldn't help cringing at the reminder of all the low point of his life she had witnessed.

“Even if that makes sense-”

“Which it does” She interrupted with a confident smirk and now it was his turn to roll his eyes at her antics.

“Okay, but how does it help? What, am I supposed to keep hitting rock bottom in hopes it will be useful?” He asked with genuine curiosity, despite his clearly sarcastic comment that didn't seem to phase her. After all, if there was one person who could match Klaus' witty remarks, that was her.

“That's definitely not what I'm saying. I think you just have to stop ignoring your emotions. Instead of running from what you're feeling, try to let it sink in. Allow yourself to feel” She explained.

“That sounds like something sober me cannot handle” Klaus replied dismissively, trying to hide the spark of fear that lit up inside him at the prospect of having to face his demons once again but this time without the numbness drugs offered.

“Sober you is much stronger than you think, Klaus. Don't forget he got us through the damn apocalypse. However, if you're not comfortable with this you don't have to do this, it's just a theory” The way she looked at him was so intense and without even noticing she extended her arm towards him, reaching out to hold his hand but retreating the moment she realized it. Seeing him doubt himself like this pained her every time and she constantly tried to show him how much she believed in him hoping that one day she could get him to believe in himself.

For a moment his eyes flickered at the movement of her hand as he understood what she had in mind. His first instinct was to reach for her, but he fought against it, sparing himself the heart wrenching disappointment of being unable to get what he so desperately needed. Her words were enough to shake him to the core, proving once again the insane trust she had in him, a trust he felt he didn't deserve but at the same time made a warm feeling flush in his chest. He knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for her and the thought of letting her down was unbearable.

“Oh, screw it” He exclaimed taking a deep breath “It's not like I haven't been through worse. Okay how do I do this?”

“I'm not sure. Try to think of a moment or a person that's tied to intense feelings, positive ones preferably, and focus on those feelings, use them as a source of power. Maybe closing your eyes could help” She suggested, impressed they had even gotten this far. Klaus was a very closed off person when it came to emotions, always trying to suppress whatever he was feeling and knowing all that he's been through she couldn't blame him.

He got up and after taking another deep breath he closed his eyes. At first the only thing he could perceive was the voices of the dead calling to him, but he managed to push them away as he brought her picture in mind. In the beginning he imagined her warm smile and vibrating laugh that usually followed one of his sarcastic remarks, sending shivers down his spine and making him feel proud of himself.

Then he turned to the day she had helped him calm down after yet another one of his hellish nightmares. He could still feel her feathery soft touch on his shoulders as she hugged him close and whispered words of encouragement in his ear. That night, and all the rest that followed, she had been his anchor and he hung onto her as tightly as he could. He could never forget the way she had looked at him as she promised he wouldn't have to be alone any more.

Finally, following her directions, he focused on everything she made him feel. He brought in mind all those times his heart would skip a beat at the sight of her and the unprecedented longing he felt nestle in his chest and threaten to suffocate him with every passing day he had to endure without her touch. There was pure affection and burning passion, all swirling around his head and for the first time he gave in, allowing them to consume him.

The feeling of her fingertips softly tracing his cheek made him open his eyes. She was standing in front of him, a wide smile on her lips as she gently caressed the side of his face and his breath caught at his throat the moment his eyes met hers.

“It worked” He exclaimed breathlessly, leaning into her touch as a small sigh escaped his lips. Slowly he brought his hand up to grasp hers and lower them back down between them after pressing a fleeting kiss on her palm that made her whole body shudder.

“I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you” She beamed at him and softly squeezed his hand. It had been so long since the last time she had been able to feel him that every touch felt electrifying, sending chills down her spine.

For a moment they stayed like that, staring deep into each other's eyes and it took everything she had not to jump into his arms. She wanted more than anything to pull him close and feel the warmth of his body against hers, but she was afraid to push him too far, knowing he didn't have complete control over this new power yet.

The same thought was torturing him, but being his reckless self he decided he couldn't hold back any longer. His hand left hers and rose to caress her cheek as his fingertips shakingly traced her jaw. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but his throat suddenly felt dry and he couldn't find the right words, or any words, to express how deep his emotions run.

“Can I- Can I kiss you?” He asked hoarsely, terrified time would run out on them. Time seemed to freeze as she turned to look at him with wide eyes, finding herself in a loss of words. Instead, she let her eyes flutter close as she leaned in with tantalizingly slow movements, until their faces were inches apart and his hot breath was hitting her. His lips parted in desire and his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest as her hands traveled from his biceps to his shoulders and then wrapped around his neck.

“What are you waiting for?” She whispered against his lips and that was all he needed to hear. Almost instinctively, his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest right before his lips crashed into hers. His eyes shut in bliss as he felt her tangle her fingers in his hair only to hold him closer.

At first the kiss was slow and sensual as they explored each other, but it didn’t take long until desperation got the best of them and soon enough their movements became needy and feverish. She nipped on his lower lip and Klaus couldn't help the groan that escaped him as he melted under her touch. One of his hands found its way on the back of her neck and he decided to deepen the kiss. He tasted like nicotine and was just as addictive making her feel like she could never let him go. Her skin seemed to light on fire under the slightest of his touch and the way his soft lips were moving against her felt like heaven.

Klaus could feel control slipping away from him with every passing moment and he surrendered to her touch, unaware of the stream of blue light that had almost encircled the two of them. When the lack of oxygen became too much she hesitantly pulled away without leaving his embrace. Looking at him through half-lidded eyes, she could see the affectionate and dared she say loving look he was giving her, sending a shiver down her spine. He looked disheveled with an adorable smile gracing his swollen lips and she couldn’t help reciprocating the action as she continued playing with his curly locks.

"I think I'm in love with you"

To be continued...

Tags: @twigleektribute23 ��💘💘

A/n: Y’all can always message me if you wish to be tagged in anything specific (fic or character or whatev), it always brightens my day!

#tua #tua klaus #the umbrella academy #tua imagine #tua x reader #the umbrella academy imagine #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves imagine

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raineydaywrites · 4 years

Text

let he who is without sin throw the first stone

Febuwhump day 24: memory loss

notes: This doesn't follow the prompt as much as some of my other fics have this month, primarily it refers to the canon memory situation. It is extremely Lucretia defense, and your mileage may vary, so know that going in. This comes from some frustration about the fact that a lot of people don’t seem to want to talk about the fact that the rest of IPRE crew also had a messed up plan that they thought was right that ended up hurting people and not working... basically the same thing some people crucify Lucretia over, and I wanted to explore that in writing.

June was glad to have been invited to the party, truly. She was fond of the Birds, and she'd let go of the anger she felt over finding out that their town 'saviors' had in fact been the ones to doom her to the fate of the Chalice for so long.

She enjoyed spending time with the Birds, and sought out opportunities for it when they arose.

She hadn't spent time with all seven of the Birds in the same room since the Day of Story and Song though. And now that she was here, she was finding out something that was rather off-putting.

It seemed that there was still quite a bit of tension between Madame Lucretia and the rest of the Birds.

June had caught wind of that possibility from things she'd hear from or around the other Birds, but never had it been so obvious as it was here and now, with them all together.

There were a number of Bureau members and other natives to this plane at the party, but none of them seemed willing to say anything about the situation. June wasn't sure if that was because they had just gotten used to it, spending more time around the Birds than she, or if they just didn't feel like bothering, but it was clear that they weren't going to address it.

Well. She may have a strange relationship with age, but she was, technically a teenager. And wasn't it a teenager's prerogative to start a perhaps-poorly-planned argument no one else was willing to start?

She saw Lucretia standing with the other Birds, before she suddenly turned and walked out of the room. The Birds seemed to be arguing amongst themselves, and June was certain that one of them had said something to upset Lucretia and the rest were wondering if it had been too harsh or not.

Now, June understood that the family members had felt betrayed by what Lucretia did, and she tried not to judge, really, or stick her nose into business that wasn't hers, but she couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of anger at the sight.

She slammed her hands down on the table in front of her, standing up to address the Birds.

"You know, I try not to judge, friends, but what the hell was that?" she demanded, pointing to the door that Lucretia had fled out of.

"None of your business," Taako sneered, but they all knew him well enough to see the defensiveness in his posture. Lucretia had written about it extensively in the journals.

June would normally feel a touch kinder to him in response to that- they all loved the Birds enough to understand his idiosyncrasies, but she was still too angry for that.

"You haven't forgiven her, have you? Have any of you?" June shouted.

She was starting to get the attention of other people in the crowd, but she didn't care. This needed to be said.

"She betrayed us. She hurt us- we have a right to not forgive her ever! She's lucky we let her spend time with us at all!" Taako shouted back.

Magnus put a hand on Taako's arm, calming him slightly.

"June," Magnus said, looking pained. "I forgive her. Merle forgives her. Lup forgives her. I think the rest of them will too. But it takes time to get over some things, ya know?"

"Oh, I know." June kept her voice cold, staring them down, and she saw Magnus wince at the phrasing. She would apologize to him later. "I understand forgiveness and time very well. And I wouldn't normally say something like this- would give you time to work it out- but you clearly still want her in your lives, or you wouldn't spend time with her, and what you're doing now is just deepening the wounds in all of you. You need to get your shit together or stop hurting her to make yourselves feel better."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Davenport said, slowly, carefully. "You've been through a lot, and I respect that, but you only know what you heard in the Story. You didn't live it."

"No, I didn't live through what you lived through," June began, knowing she had to be careful not to say something that she would regret. She thought about her next words very carefully before she started to say them. "But I did live through what you forced upon this world."

She saw Magnus flinch again, and he wasn't the only one. The other Birds did as well, to a one, and a number of the Faerun natives did the same.

There was an unspoken agreement between the Faerun natives not to say anything about the Relics that the Birds had created. They had saved the world. They regretted the hurt they had caused.

But June was starting to think that their silence had gone on too long. Someone needed to remind them.

"I'm grateful to what y'all did for us. But before you did it, you used our plane as a testing ground for a plan that you weren't sure would even work. You were responsible for atrocities the likes of which our world had never seen before. And you had no right to do that to us. Not even to save everyone."

"June..." several people murmured for her to stop speaking, reaching out as if to comfort or confront her.

"No! I am speaking!" June shouted, and she stood up on the table to stop them from blocking her from view of the Birds.

"And did it work? Madame Lucretia didn't get any of the Relics other than her own back for a decade! Some of the Relics were in continuous use or close to it that whole time, and wasn't that your plan? To keep the Light separate, keep it being wanted and used?" It was a rhetorical question, but she needed to say it. "And did it stop the Hunger? Did it help at all? Or did it just make them desperate and angry?"

"It helped!" Merle insisted.

"Why are you saying all this?" Lup demanded, face and voice devastated, and June felt bad, but she couldn't stop. "You just want to hurt us because we haven't all forgiven her yet?"

"I'm saying all this because I think you've gotten a little cocky. You've forgotten just what it is you did before Madame Lucretia did what she did," June said, looking them each in the eye as she spoke.

"Are you fucking saying we deserved that?" Taako demanded, stalking forward towards her.

June wasn't intimidated by him.

"No," she said, watching him with a detached haughtiness that she hadn't felt since she was combined with the Chalice. "I'm saying you deserved worse."

She let that sink in for a minute, watched Taako's face go slack as if she'd slapped him, then angry again. She spoke again before he could.

"You did something horrible. Something that you had no right to do. Something that hurt people. Because you thought you knew what was best for everyone. And your plan didn't even work out how you wanted it to. Sound familiar?" she cocked her head to the side, to the door that Lucretia had left from.

"You did something that was wrong and unjust. And you had to be stopped. Some people might suggest that you oughta consider yourselves lucky that you had a friend to stop you, who would do it as kindly and lovingly as possible. Because if it had been up to your victims? If you hadn't saved everyone first? We might not have been nearly so merciful."

She took a breath, trying to calm herself. She wanted to make them understand, not to hurt them. The realization might hurt a little, but she was really trying not to do any worse than she needed to.

"I know that you meant well. I know that you didn't think you had any other options at your disposal. I know you and I love you. And so I can forgive you for the pain you have inflicted on me and on my world. On everyone I love," June said, and her face turned pleading, almost apologetic. She hoped that they wouldn't hate her after this. "But I find it very disturbing that you aren't willing to pay that forward. Especially when I can tell that you still love her. Still want her in your lives. You suffered because of what she did, I know. But so did she, for your benefit. And this refusal to forgive her for this, this refusal to even acknowledge that your plan and hers were motivated by the same things- all it does is hurt all of you. And it hurts us to watch it happen."

June felt the anger she held slowly dissipate, and she suddenly felt foolish for her dramatics. She stepped down off the table, walking forward through the now silent crowd around her, past the Birds, all standing very still, strange, conflicted expressions passing over their faces as her words sunk in.

She stopped in front of Magnus, dipping her head a little and reaching out for a hug, if he was willing.

He pulled her in, but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry if what I said hurt you. I wish I could have said it in a way that didn't," she said, speaking to Magnus primarily, but making sure that her voice was clear and loud enough for them all to hear.

The hug seemed to have broken the standoff.

"Forgot how smart you are," Magnus whispered into her hair. "And how much you care."

When she pulled out of the hug, she saw that Taako was running off somewhere, probably to lick his wounds without lashing out at anyone. Seemed like Kravitz intended to follow though, so she wasn't too worried.

The rest of the Birds, aside from Magnus above her, were moving towards a corner of the room, huddled together and speaking softly enough that she wondered if they'd cast some sort of spell to stop anyone else from hearing them.

"Should I leave?" June asked, pulling out of the hug. "Give everybody some time to calm down?"

"You don't have to do that!" Magnus insisted, then his expression twisted a little. "Maybe try to stay away a little bit though. It's- it might take a second for people to stop feeling angry and defensive."

"So, wait to apologize to the rest of them for like, a week? Two?" June asked, half-joking and smiling to show it.

"Week for Dav, Lup, and Barry, two weeks for Taako," Magnus said, nodding decisively and grinning widely back at her. "I think Merle's already past it."

"And you?" June asked. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Magnus admitted. "But I think you were right that we had to hear that. Maybe you could have waited to not be at a party, but who am I to criticize rushing into something?" His laugh was happy, if a little rueful.

Magnus glanced back to where the other Birds were speaking and grimaced. "I should probably go talk to them. We're, uh, gonna have to have a long family meeting after this."

"Go on," June said. "Give them my love."

"I will!" Magnus assured, before he turned and jogged off to the others.

June walked back to her seat, grabbing her cup of water and moving to lean against the wall. She was sure that everyone was watching her, and it was off-putting. There were enough people that were strangers to her that she felt uncomfortable with the attention.

She was not all that surprised when someone came up to talk to her, all things considered. It was the kid, Angus McDonald, and she was really unsure how he would react to this. He saw the Birds as family, if she understood the situation right. Being raised by Taako and Kravitz, she thought, with a lot of help and input from the rest of them. So this could really go a lot of different ways.

"What's your favorite candy? I'm buying you so much of it. You seem like you need it," Angus said in greeting.

"Uh-" June laughed, "-anything chocolate, really."

Angus actually wrote that down, and June laughed again.

"They've been very frustrating lately," Angus sighed, leaning against the wall next to her. "I didn't want to say anything, because I love them and I know that these things take time, but you brought up some really good points. They won't admit it easily, so I will."

"I don't know if I did anything all that useful really," June said, letting a tinge of regret color her voice. "I should have been nicer about it."

"Nice hasn't been getting us anywhere. Sometimes you just have to force your way through!" Angus insisted.

"I hope you're right," June said, softly, watching the Birds speak, wishing she had thought about this more before speaking. But maybe her message would still get through, regardless of the tone.

About a week after June got back to Refuge after the party, she found a big pile of chocolate on her desk, and a letter with a drawing from Angus. The drawing featured all seven Birds, along with Kravitz and Angus himself, sitting around a table playing some kind of game. It was childish and inexperienced and June already knew she'd treasure it forever.

She settled in to read the letter that came with it, happy and comfortable for the first time in a week. Looks like she'd been forgiven.

#taz balance #taz lucretia #ipre crew #febuwhump #febuwhumpday24 #taz june #june/the chalice was so savage about Phandolin I feel like this is in character for her

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Wild Flower, Chapter Eight (Shalaska) 8/11 - Freyja

A/N: helllooooo!!! I just want to say thank you for all of the love this fic has gotten - it’s so motivating and my heart can’t fit inside my chest anymore, you guys. It’s becoming a problem. Thank you to Frey for betaing - she fixed a plot hole singlehandedly. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: this fic wouldn’t be where it is without her. This chapter gave me carpal tunnel (jk - it only finished the job) so y'all better appreciate my labor ;) Hope you’re ready for a whole bunch of feelings! Enjoy the calm before the storm!

Summary: Alaska’s been vulnerable since she came to camp. It’s about time Sharon returns the favor.

🌸

“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.” - D. H. Lawrence

🌸

Alaska is in love.

As she meets Sharon’s eyes in the warm candle light, her heart swells, and she just knows.

She’s never been in love before.

It’s terrifying.

Her heart starts to beat a little faster with the realization, and Alaska can only hope that Sharon doesn’t notice, despite how close they are. Unfortunately, Sharon’s head is resting on her collarbone, and Sharon is nothing if not observant.

“If you’re getting excited for some more,” she says tiredly, “you’re out of luck.”

Luckily, Sharon is also prone to making assumptions.

Alaska lets out a surprised laugh, relieved and calmer for it. She shoves her realization into the back of her mind, just wanting to bask in the moment and keep enjoying the feeling of Sharon’s skin against hers without panicking. “What if I told you I’d leave again?” she drawls.

“That would make you a liar,” Sharon says, and her arms wrap more tightly around Alaska. Alaska’s heart jumps in response, affection bubbling up inside her.

“I guess I won’t, then,” she says, fake pouting, and Sharon laughs.

“I think you’ll live.”

As long as you’re this close, I could live with anything, Alaska thinks, but she only snorts in response, carding her fingers through Sharon’s curls and gently working out the tangles she comes across.

There’s a moment of silence as Alaska works out a particularly big tangle, and Sharon huffs out a laugh through her nose. “I have a comb, you know,” Sharon says drily. Alaska snorts.

“It’s more fun this way. Besides, I’ve never actually seen you use it, wherever it is.”

“Hey! I’m not the one with a rat’s nest sitting on top of my head.”

Alaska gasps in mock anger, barely restraining her smile as she tugs on Sharon’s hair in retribution. “Take that back. It’s your fault it’s even gotten this bad.”

“You’re right,” Sharon says gravely. “I did say I would protect you when things went south.”

“I can reach my gun from here, you know,” Alaska threatens, and Sharon pulls back to laugh at her. Alaska mourns the slight loss of contact, but Sharon’s bright smile makes it worth it. It still gives her butterflies, despite the fact that they’re both half dressed and cuddling.

She would do anything for that smile.

Jesus Christ, she’s in love.

“Here,” Sharon says, sitting up and folding her legs beneath her. Alaska watches her, dismayed and suddenly chilly. They’d slipped their shirts back on, but they’re nothing compared to body heat. “Sit up.”

“It’s too cold for this,” Alaska whines, and she tugs on Sharon’s wrists to make her lie down again. “How are you not shivering?”

“I’m a weatherworn criminal,” Sharon deadpans, and she uses Alaska’s grip on her wrists to pull her up into a sitting position. Alaska lets her, albeit reluctantly. “My skin is practically leather.”

“Please,” Alaska snorts. “You could give the moon a run for its money.”

Sharon raises an eyebrow, barking out a surprised laugh. “Alright, for that you can turn around. I don’t want to look at you anymore.”

Alaska sputters out a laugh. “You can’t hide from the truth, Sharon.”

“I can try,” Sharon says, but she’s smiling, her eyes soft with something Alaska can’t quite put a finger on. “But seriously, turn around. I’m going to braid your hair.”

“Why?” Alaska asks, but she’s already turning, affection once again filling her chest. She hears Sharon grab something off of the crate behind her.

“So that you can’t blame me next time your hair gets fucked,” Sharon tells her, and Alaska feels her shift closer.

“Technically, I can blame you for anything that happens to me in this camp,” Alaska says, but she loses half of the punch when Sharon presses a kiss to the bare part of her shoulder, her breath catching halfway through her sentence.

“I’ll take it,” Sharon says softly, her breath ghosting along Alaska’s neck. Alaska shivers. “As long as you stay.”

“I’m too in l–” Alaska cuts herself off, swallowing her almost-confession along with a bubble of air. She immediately breaks out into a coughing fit, and Sharon’s hands go to her shoulders, steadying her as she hacks.

The idea of leaving seems ludicrous, now. Happiness is here. Freedom is here. The woman she loves is here. She can’t go back because of one of those reasons, and even if she did, she’d lose all three. She can ignore the twinge of guilt she feels when she thinks about her father - god knows he’s screwed her over enough.

She just can’t lose this.

“Jesus,” Sharon says as soon as Alaska is able to suck in air again, tone teasing. She starts finger combing Alaska’s hair, working out the bigger knots fairly painlessly. “Don’t tell me you have consumption.”

Alaska tries very hard not to think of her mother. “Don’t joke about that,” she says, voice quiet. “Please.”

Sharon’s fingers still in her hair, clearly picking up on Alaska’s tone. “Alright,” she says softly. There’s a beat. “Who was it?”

“My mother,” Alaska says stiffly, determined to keep her eyes dry. Sharon resumes combing.

“I had a brother. He was just a baby, so I didn’t know him well, but it was still a tragedy. I can’t imagine a mother.”

“No,” Alaska whispers, her lip trembling a little. “It was hard.”

“Mhm,” Sharon hums, and then she says, “but not as hard as brushing your hair is going to be.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence before a laugh escapes Alaska, the joke strangely healing despite its blunt tone. “For me or for you?”

“You tell me,” Sharon says, a smile in her voice, and then Alaska feels a sharp pain in her scalp as Sharon starts running the brush through her hair.

“Ah, fuck!” she snaps out, clutching her head as Sharon cackles. “Are you fucking trying to hurt me?”

“I had to follow through!”

“I’m going to bed,” Alaska sighs, and she starts to turn around, before Sharon stops her, laughing.

“I’ll be gentle! Please, turn back around. I’ll be nice.”

“Promise?”

“I cross my heart. I hope you’re writing all of these promises down.”

“Oh, I am,” Alaska drawls, turning back around. “And I promise to scream if you do that again.”

“Brat,” Sharon says fondly, and Alaska rolls her eyes.

“Haven’t heard that one before.”

They lapse into silence as Sharon resumes brushing, working out the knots relatively painlessly and pressing her lips against Alaska’s shoulder in silent apology when there’s a particularly hard tug. Alaska finds herself relaxing by increments, Sharon’s rhythmic breathing and the feeling of fingers in her hair making her eyelids heavier and heavier.

“Done,” Sharon says quietly, breaking the comfortable silence they’d fallen into. “I almost don’t want to braid it - it looks so pretty just like this.”

Alaska hums as Sharon combs her fingers through her hair, raking her nails across her scalp as she moves down. She finds herself leaning into the touch, letting her eyes close.

“I think we can forgo the braid,” she murmurs, and Sharon laughs.

“You’re awfully comfortable.”

“You’re comfortable,” Alaska says, and she falls back the rest of the way against Sharon, smiling as Sharon’s arms immediately wrap around her, holding fast. They sit in silence for a moment, both growing tired, and it allows Alaska’s mind to wander a little.

She is, strangely, comfortable.

The moment she’d come back to herself after that miraculous twist of Sharon’s fingers, Sharon collapsing next to her and grinning from ear to ear, she’d panicked, a mantra of what the fuck have I just done running through her mind as her heart pounded in her ears. She’d felt wrong - like she’d just misbehaved, and she would be caught and punished at any moment.

But then, Sharon had put a hand on her cheek, drawing her into another kiss, and all of the tension had left her body.

“Alaska,” she’d breathed, and Alaska suddenly didn’t care about anything that wasn’t the woman in front of her.

It’s become abruptly easier to push away the thoughts of her father, of society, of responsibility. Things feel natural with Sharon - right, in a way Alaska has never felt in her life. She’s going to bask in it for as long as she can, even as her heart starts to pound again the longer she thinks about it.

“Do you feel safe?” Sharon asks suddenly, jerking Alaska out of her thoughts.

Alaska frowns, a little disoriented. “What?”

“I just - you almost died today, and all I did was yell. I want to know if you still - if you still feel safe.”

“Sharon–”

“I don’t want to ruin what we have. If I’ve already done it–”

“Sharon,” Alaska says again, tone more pointed. “I’m in your lap right now. How do you think I feel?”

Sharon huffs a small laugh, but there’s no joy in it. Clearly, Alaska hadn’t been the only one getting into her thoughts.

There’s a long stretch of silence as Alaska thinks, desperate for a way to let Sharon know that her thoughts had been straying towards just the opposite when she first brought it up.

“I think this is the safest I’ve ever felt,” Alaska eventually murmurs, and it’s true. Her father was distant, cold, unfeeling - he flung her at suitors full of false charm and predatory leers. Her friends came and went, marrying off and laughing about the fact that she hadn’t.

It’s hard to feel safe when no one even cares whether you are or not.

“Good,” Sharon whispers, sounding relieved. Her arms tighten around Alaska. “Good.”

“Good,” Alaska says, and then her stomach growls. “Dinner?”

Sharon laughs.

🌸

They go to bed early that night, but Alaska sleeps for what feels like five minutes before she’s shaken awake again. She is more than a little irritated.

She groans, and she only grows angrier when she cracks her eyes open to darkness, the moon still shining through the canvas of the tent. “Sharon, this had better be–”

“Alaska?”

Alaska sits straight up at the strange desperation in Sharon’s voice, worry flooding her body and annoyance fleeing in its wake. She turns to find Sharon staring at her like she’s just seen a ghost, her hair mussed and her cheeks streaked with tear tracks. Alaska’s heart spikes with fear at the sight of her.

“Sharon?” she asks, her tone a little too loud with her worry, and Sharon’s hand clenches where it still lingers on Alaska’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

Sharon slumps in what looks like relief, breathing in a little. She looks like she isn’t all there. “You’re alright?”

Alaska tenses - was somebody hurt? “Of course I’m alright,” Alaska says, frowning as her panic rises, hundreds of scenarios popping into her head. She grabs Sharon’s wrist, where her hand is on Alaska’s arm. “Is everyone okay? Did Phi Phi escape?”

Her question seems to break Sharon out of whatever state she’d been in, and a strange series of expressions flickers across her face, the strange look in her eyes fading as she looks around the tent. She takes in another breath, her expression finally settling on a small frown. “Oh.”

Alaska squeezes her wrist urgently. “‘Oh’? What does that mean?”

“It means I’m an idiot,” Sharon snaps out suddenly, and Alaska lets go of her wrist in surprise. Sharon’s face softens, and she chases Alaska’s hand in apology. “Sorry. Everyone’s alright.”

Alaska stares at her, confused. “Then why–” she cuts herself off, realization crashing down on her like a wave. It’s her turn to feel like an idiot. “You had a nightmare.”

Sharon snorts, her eyes on the ground. “Told you there’s a reason Jinkx sleeps in Morgan’s tent and not mine,” she jokes weakly. She’s clearly embarrassed, and it’s strange to see - she’d never seen Sharon anything close to embarrassed, even after she’d punched Alaska in the nose that first night.

Maybe, Alaska thinks, because she had just that to distract from herself from what she was really ashamed of.

“You can’t tell me Jinkx was bothered by this enough to leave,” Alaska says, and Sharon raises an eyebrow.

“Who said it was her decision?”

Alaska frowns, her heart breaking a little. She wouldn’t believe Sharon kicking Jinkx out, either, if it weren’t for the clear defensive edge in her eyes. “Alright,” she says carefully, wary of pushing too far. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sharon hesitates. “No.”

Alaska squeezes her hand, fighting back the urge to pull Sharon and her tear-stained cheeks closer. “Sharon–”

“I said no.”

“Can I–”

“It has nothing to do with you, Alaska, so just drop it.”

Hurt flashes through Alaska at her tone. “Considering the way you woke me up, I’d say it has at least something to do with me.”

Sharon blushes, glaring. “It wasn’t about you,” she amends. “Things just got - jumbled.”

“What things?” Alaska asks, and Sharon’s eyes flick behind her. Alaska turns - there’s nothing but the set of drawers.

“Please, Alaska,” Sharon says, sounding more tired than angry, and when Alaska turns back around, the expression in her eyes evokes a kind of sadness that resonates too deeply within Alaska. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

Alaska wants to know. She wants to know so badly. She wants to be able to talk that look out of Sharon’s eyes, to know what makes this woman tick, what could possibly affect her this badly. She almost wants to get angry about it - wants to throw Sharon’s lack of trust in her face and force the answers out of her that way. But she doesn’t want to force Sharon to give her anything - that was the point. She wants Sharon to trust her, and something tells her that getting angry when she doesn’t share her darkest fears won’t make that happen.

Still, a question burns at the tip of her tongue, and she can’t help but give into it. “Was it about today?” she asks, voice quiet. Was it about me dying?

“A little,” Sharon says stiffly. “I-” her voice breaks, and Alaska is horrified when her face crumples a little. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She sounds frustrated and close to tears, and guilt swirls in Alaska’s stomach.

“You don’t have to,” she says, voice quiet.

“You’d hate me if I did,” Sharon whispers, and shock runs through Alaska like lightning.

“I wouldn’t,” she says, even as doubt nibbles at the back of her mind. What if Sharon had done something truly horrible? “You couldn’t make me hate you.” Alaska sucks in a breath as the words escape her, far too close to a confession of love.

Sharon sucks in a shaky breath, breaking eye contact to look at the streak of moonlight on the floor. “Well,” she says, making an attempt to sound normal. It’s not working. “I’m not willing to test that right now. Let’s just - let’s just sleep.”

Alaska swallows back her desire to keep pushing, and she nods instead, mirroring Sharon as she lies back down. “Come here,” she says softly, and Sharon frowns a little.

“What?”

“I just want to – let me hold you,” Alaska says, begging Sharon with her eyes. Concern is still welling up in her throat, and the desire to do something to help, anything to help, is overwhelming. Cuddling, her gut is telling her, will definitely help. “I want to hold you.”

Sharon looks at her for a moment longer before her expression softens into surprised appreciation. “Alright,” she says slowly, and she allows Alaska to wrap her arms around her, burying her face into Alaska’s collarbone.

A sudden surge of protectiveness washes over Alaska, and she tightens her arms around Sharon in an effort to relieve it. She can’t imagine what Sharon might have done - the other woman’s reaction is frightening, but Alaska can’t imagine it to be worse than what she’d done to Solomon’s gang.

It must be, though, if Sharon feels this guilty about it, and Alaska’s stomach dips at the thought.

She lies awake for a long time, pretending not to feel Sharon’s body shake with silent sobs.

🌸

When Alaska opens her eyes again, late morning sunlight is drifting in with the loosened tent flap, there are dried tear tracks pulling at the skin on her cheeks, and Sharon is gone.

She isn’t surprised - Sharon is an early riser, and Alaska is the opposite. It’s not unusual for her to wake up alone in the tent, but now she finds herself resenting it, disappointment a nagging feeling in her chest. She’s usually grateful for the chance to be alone - but now, all she wants is to see Sharon again.

She pulls on her boots, further motivated by the smell of food, and when she goes to tie her hair back, she grins at the lack of knots - it won’t last long, but for now, it reminds her of Sharon and the warm glow of their tent.

The thought makes Alaska’s breath catch. When the hell did she start thinking of this tent as ‘theirs’?

She looks around, taking in the dusty crates, the rumpled blankets, the patched holes in the canvas roof. When she’d first seen this tent, she’d laughed at the shabbiness of it, the whole thing feeling bare bones and dirty. Now, it feels familiar, lived in, safe - something she’d only felt when her mother filled the household with smiles and hugs.

The feeling scares something within Alaska, and she ducks out of the tent quickly, a little shaken.

She’s decided to stay, but it had been for Sharon, for what she now knows is love. She hadn’t expected to belong further than that, and as she creeps closer to that anyway, she finds that she had been taking a certain kind of comfort in it. She isn’t quite like these women - she’s civilized, moral - better. What does it mean if she feels truly at home here?

This thought scares her as well, and she shoves it into the back of her mind, taking a deep breath. She’s just been here long enough to form an attachment, that’s all.

Alaska finds Sharon by the fire, grinning and laughing with Alyssa and Morgan, who still looks sharp even with a smile on her face. Alaska is relieved to see it - she’d been worried out of her mind last night, the terror in Sharon’s eyes haunting her own dreams, and it’s comforting to see Sharon bounce back from what had looked like paralyzing fear.

Alaska tells herself that it’s not an act.

As she approaches the women, however, new doubts start to trickle into her mind.

How is she supposed to behave? Her instincts tell her that they should be hiding their relationship - this is a relationship, right? Can two women-? - but Katya clearly hadn’t had a problem with Trixie. Does Sharon resent her for pushing last night? Does she even want to see her right now? Doe–

“Lasky!” Sharon exclaims, finishing the distance between Alaska and the firepit and giving her a wide smile. “Good morning!”

She takes Alaska’s face in her hands, and she kisses her.

It’s only a small kiss, and she’s gone before Alaska can really reciprocate, but it still makes her stomach flutter with pleasure, and the feeling only grows when Sharon doesn’t let go of her hand. Then, she remembers that they have an audience.

She snaps her gaze over to Alyssa and Morgan, her stomach dropping like an anchor, fearing the worst: disgust, aggression, fear. She gets none of it - in fact, they seem unfazed, Alyssa smiling like a mother does on her daughter’s wedding day, and Morgan not even watching.

Sharon follows her gaze, frowning. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” Alaska says, stunned. She feels weightless, like a huge burden has suddenly been lifted off of her shoulders. “Nothing.”

“If you say so,” Sharon says, still looking concerned, but she tugs Alaska towards the firepit anyway, the exchange clearly over.

“Alyssa was just telling us about how she got ‘discovered’,” Morgan says, raising a pointed eyebrow and cradling a cup of coffee. “And I say ‘discovered’ like that because–”

“Because it was more like she put herself up for adoption,” Sharon finishes, and Alyssa gapes at the two of them, offended.

“I’ll have you know I was sought after by the biggest showman in the West,” she says stiffly. She pauses to gently hand Alaska a bowl of what looks like boiled oats. “There’s sugar somewhere around here, sweetie,” she tells her, and then she’s rounding on Sharon again. “P.T. Barnum himself came knocking on my door!”

“And I’m sure there’s a reason you weren’t traveling around with P.T. Barnum when I found you?”

“I had loyalties,” Alyssa sniffs. “I couldn’t just leave Charles, I’m not cold hearted.”

“You seemed to have no problem with leaving when I asked you to.”

“Girl, I was old when I met you!” Alyssa laughs. “I was ready to retire anyway.”

“Please, you’re hardly old,” Sharon says, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Showbusiness just ages you faster.”

“Rude!” Alyssa cries, but it’s clearly in good humor. “And right after I just fed y’all!”

“Hey, don’t loop me in with this,” Morgan says, and Alyssa waves her away.

“Don’t think I don’t know who Sharon was smiling at,” she says. “And Alaska’s not at the right angle.”

“Me?” Morgan repeats, mock innocence oozing out of her.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t Phi Phi,” Sharon says, and the four women fall silent, glancing behind Morgan towards the post, where Phi Phi sits, slumped over and silent.

“She’s awful quiet,” Alyssa says, a little muted herself. “Are you sure–”

“I’m sure,” Sharon says, and it’s clear that they’d discussed it at least a little before Alaska had woken up. “This has to be a set up. I don’t care how well Phi Phi can act - she’s going to stay here until she tells us what’s really going on.”

“When are you going to interrogate her?” Morgan asks, expression serious.

“Right now,” Sharon says, and as she stands, Alaska mirrors her.

“I’m coming with you,” she says, and Sharon raises an eyebrow.

“Are you?” she asks, and Alaska nods.

“I’m the reason she’s here,” she says, firm in her resolution. She will see this through - she’s still invested in the idea of a peace treaty, and the fact that Phi Phi hasn’t let it go is enough to make hope bubble back up in her chest. If they manage to end this without any more blood spilt… “I want to see how this goes.”

There’s a gleam of pride in Sharon’s eyes as she appraises her, and Alaska’s heart swells at it, pleased. “Good enough for me,” Sharon says, and then she starts towards the post, Alaska close behind, her heart pounding with anticipation and no small thrill running through her at the thought of interrogation, childhood games swimming through her memories.

“Phi Phi O’Hara,” Sharon greets as they near the pole, stopping at Phi Phi’s outstretched feet. She doesn’t, Alaska notices, crouch down so that they’re at eye level. That must have just been a part of her own, special, treatment.

“Oh, so you can see me,” Phi Phi says bitterly, glaring up at Sharon. She sounds hoarse, and she has to licks her lips before she speaks. It takes Alaska far too long to realize it’s because she hasn’t had water since before their altercation.

“It is hard to look at you,” Sharon says, unimpressed. “But yes, I can.”

“Fuck off, Needles.”

“Not until you tell me what yesterday was really about.”

“I have,” Phi Phi sneers. “It’s your own hang ups that are keeping you from believing us.”

“Can you fucking blame me?” Sharon snaps, the previous calm in her voice fading in favor of hot anger. “After what Solomon did–”

“He didn’t pretend to be anything he wasn’t,” Phi Phi shoots back.

“Which is a liar.”

“Not with this!”

“If you don’t tell me–”

“What, you’ll use one of these pokers?” Phi Phi jerks her head towards the bucket of metal fire pokers near the post, and Alaska’s heart stops at the sight of them, the fear she’d felt when Sharon had tied her up suddenly a fresh memory.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Sharon says, and Alaska’s breath catches.

“Is that true?” she asks, before she can stop herself, and Sharon shoots her a look.

“If you don’t–”

“Sharon!”

Sharon falls silent at the call, frowning at something just behind Alaska, and Alaska turns to find Jinkx sprinting up the hill towards them from the entrance to camp, where her horse still stands, untethered in her rush to get to Sharon.

Alaska’s stomach dips fearfully at the sight.

“Jesus,” Sharon mutters, and Alaska follows her as she rushes down the hill to meet Jinkx, who’s already out of breath.

“What is it?” Sharon asks, worry clear in her voice as she reaches Jinkx, who grabs her hand. Alaska ignores the spark of jealousy she feels at the sight.

“I ran into Raja in town - she just got word–”

“Word?” Sharon asks quickly.

“It’s Kameron Michaels. She got caught in Honard, and now she’s on death row.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Sharon breathes, and Alaska can see her hand tighten around Jinkx’s. “When?”

“Two days from now. They want to do it quickly - the mayor supposedly wants to clear more space in the jail for bounties.”

“Fuck,” Sharon hisses. “I’ll have to leave now.”

“And do what?” Jinkx cries. “Advocate for her to the jury?”

“Of course not,” Sharon snaps. “I’ll break her out.”

Jinkx stares at her. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, I’m doing it.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m the leader–”

“And I’m the only one with sense around here!” Jinkx cries, clearly distressed. Alaska is inclined to agree with her - this feels like an enormous risk, and she doesn’t want Sharon to take it. Whatever this Kameron person did, she must deserve the quick sentence - the police hardly did it in New York.

“I owe it to her, Jinkx,” Sharon says after a beat, voice quiet with urgency. “It’s the fucking least I can do.”

There’s a long stretch of silence in which Jinkx visibly searches for a comeback, and ultimately fails. “I’m not going to convince you, am I?” she asks tiredly, slumping.

“Not when it comes to this,” Sharon says, her voice soft with sympathy. “I have to. There’s no other option.”

Alaska watches the exchange, her heart rate picking up. The idea of Sharon leaving is terrifying - she doesn’t want to be alone at camp, no matter how kind Jinkx has proven herself to be, and she certainly doesn’t want Sharon to leave and never come back.

Jinkx clearly feels the same way, and it’s with some severity that she says, “Well, I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Sharon says.

“No?” Jinkx repeats, surprised.

“If I’m gone, you’re the only one I can leave in charge. Besides, you can’t shoot for shit.”

“You’re not going alone,” Jinkx says stubbornly, and Sharon raises an eyebrow.

“And who would you suggest I bring? Morgan still can’t ride a fucking horse.”

“Detox,” Jinkx shoots back. “She’s always been sensible in things like this.”

“Detox tore her stitches for the third time yesterday,” Sharon says drily. “Sensibility won’t get her anywhere if she’s too busy bleeding out.”

Jinkx scowls. “Willam.”

“Willam has wanted posters up everywhere,” Sharon points out. “I’m pretty sure my mother had a framed picture of her.”

“You have wanted posters everywhere!” Jinkx exclaims, incredulous. “You can’t even go into Coady! And Coady doesn’t care if you’ve murdered the county sheriff!”

“I - well,” Sharon says, stumbling. “I’m going. One wanted woman is enough - two is just asking for trouble.”

“I guess that gets rid of our resident celebrity,” Jinkx mutters, glancing back at Alyssa. “Katya, then. No one cares about another European immigrant - they’re a dime a dozen.”

“I’m not taking the only person who knows how to stitch up a wound,” Sharon says quickly, and Jinkx’s lips tighten.

“I would argue that you’re going to need her more,” she says, worry creating a new edge to her voice, and Sharon shakes her head.

“It’s not happening,” she says, and Jinkx huffs in frustration, tears coming to her eyes.

“You’re not going alone,” she says. “I don’t care if you think we need Katya more, you’re not going to sneak someone you’ve met a grand total of three times out of a jail cell by yourself.”

Alaska tunes out Sharon’s response, her mind racing. She can’t convince her to stay, not when she doesn’t know anything about anything, it seems, and if Jinkx can’t convince her to take anyone, Alaska certainly can’t. Maybe if one of the girls volunteered themselves, Sharon would have a harder time–

Wait.

“I’ll go,” Alaska says, interrupting a heated response from Sharon and earning two sets of wide eyes staring at her.

“What?” Jinkx says, and Alaska nods, resolution building in her gut.

“I’ll go,” she repeats, voice a little louder. “No one knows who I am - they won’t even think twice when they see me. And I’m decent with a gun.”

Sharon snorts a disbelieving laugh at that, but Jinkx frowns at her, expression considering. “You’re sure?” she asks, and Alaska nods.

“I’m going.”

Sharon shakes her head, her expression sobering as Jinkx raises an eyebrow at her. “No. It’s too dangerous - she can’t shoot, she doesn’t know what she’s doing, and she fucked up the last little adventure she went on!”

“Please,” Alaska says, a little hurt. “The plan isn’t to shoot anyone, right?”

“That’s what you said last time,” Sharon says sharply. “Shit happens.”

“Well, fuck me if I want to make sure you’re alright!” Alaska snaps, and Sharon’s face softens slightly.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she says, voice still hard. “This is more than robbing a carriage full of unarmed people - these are armed men with an active agenda against me, and I’m going right into the bear’s den. You’re not going.”

“Exactly,” Jinkx cuts in, before Alaska can shoot an answer back. “And if you get hurt, I want someone there who can get you the fuck away before anything worse happens.”

Alaska’s stomach bottoms out at the thought, and she doubles down on her stance. She can’t control Sharon, but she can control how much she can help keep her from getting hurt. She’s going.

Something must show on her face, because Sharon falls silent, rolling her lips between her teeth. It’s when she pinches the bridge of her nose that Alaska knows she’s giving in.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sharon says, irritated. She glares at the two of them. “You two aren’t allowed to talk to each other anymore.”

“Oh, thank you lord Jesus,” Jinkx breathes, and Alaska feels relief break over her, soothing her worry at least somewhat.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you come,” Sharon says, glancing at Alaska with concern. “Fuck.”

“I’ll be fine,” Alaska says, and she slides her fingers between Sharon’s, her heart beating a little faster as she initiates the contact. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to this freedom. “We’ll have each other.”

Sharon squeezes her fingers, still looking wary despite the small smile she gives Alaska. “At least there’s that.”

🌸

“I didn’t think Colorado got this hot,” Alaska whines, draping herself dramatically over Peaches’ neck. “I can’t believe you packed four blankets.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” Sharon says from beside her, raising her eyebrows. “You’ll be longing for it once the sun sets and we’re freezing our tits off.”

They’d left around four hours ago, and the late afternoon sunlight has them in what feels like an oven, the dry air only making the sun’s beams that much hotter. Katya had once again lent Alaska her hat, providing her with some shade, but that was the extent of mercy she’d been given - the rest of her is soaked with sweat, and she’s pretty sure she’ll have sunburn by the time they stop for rest.

It takes two days to get to Honard. Alaska just might die of heatstroke before they get to the actual danger.

“You’re one to talk,” Alaska says bitterly. “You’re not even sweating.”

“I think you’ve forgotten that my skin is leather,” Sharon says, and Alaska snorts.

“And I think you’ve forgotten that joke isn’t funny,” she says, and Sharon laughs. Alaska smiles at the sound - it makes the heat tolerable.

“Most of my jokes aren’t,” Sharon says. “You’ll have to get used to it.”

“Easier said than done,” Alaska says drily.

Sharon snorts. “I don’t think– hold on,” she says, voice suddenly wary.

She abruptly pulls Cerrone off the road, and Alaska follows, her heart already thumping against her ribcage. She looks ahead to see someone heading towards them on the road, but from the looks of him, it isn’t anyone dangerous. She frowns, pulling up to walk by Sharon’s side once again.

“What is it?” she asks, eyes still on the man. “I don’t think he’s a cop.”

“He probably isn’t,” Sharon says, but her tone is still very much serious. “But I still don’t want him to see our faces. Lower your hat.”

Alaska obeys, still frowning. If he isn’t a cop–

Bounties, she realizes, as Sharon pulls her own hat lower. Even a poor farmer - maybe especially a poor farmer - would seize the chance to catch a bounty if it was sitting right in front of them.

As they near the man, neither slowing in pace, Alaska holds her breath.

They pass with little fanfare, each raising a silent hand in greeting, and Alaska lets out the breath she’d been holding, relief sending goosebumps down her arms. She ignores the frown the man had given Sharon - women riding alone is unusual, after all.

Wishful thinking, as you know, is useless when it comes to danger.

“Hey, wait!” the man says, and Alaska’s heart stops. “Aren’t you-?”

“Go!” Sharon snarls, and she digs her heels into Cerrone’s sides. Alaska is close behind her, keeping pace as they fly across the barren hills, mountains seemingly stagnant beside them.

A gunshot echoes off the mountains, startling the horses, and Alaska knows that they’re being chased. It’s utterly terrifying, and she digs her heels even harder into Peaches’ sides despite the horse already going as fast as she can.

“Fuck!” Sharon hisses as a bullet bursts into the dirt right beside her, sending Cerrone into a frenzy, and she suddenly stops, Alaska speeding past her before she’s even realized what’s happened.

A third gunshot echoes, and Alaska feels the blood drain from her face, her heart in her throat as she yanks on Peaches’ reins, adrenaline giving her more strength than she would have had otherwise.

By the time she gets Peaches to slow, turning her around despite her own instinct to just keep running, she finds Sharon swinging off of a nervous Cerrone, revolver in hand. The man lies on the ground, clutching his leg as his own horse flees, leaving a trail of dirt in its wake.

Alaska’s stomach dips as she realizes what Sharon is about to do.

“Sharon!” Alaska shouts, sliding down from her saddle and sprinting towards the other woman, feeling much faster with the adrenaline running through her. “Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” Sharon snaps, whirling around. Alaska eyes the man, but he seems too busy trying to staunch the bleeding in his leg to raise his gun again. “Do exactly what he was just trying to do to me?”

“He’s no one, Sharon,” Alaska says, reaching Sharon and grabbing her wrists. Sharon jerks away, clearly furious, but Alaska holds fast. “He’s taken care of. You made a promise.”

“Please,” the man says, tears of pain streaming down his face. “I just needed the money. Nothin’ personal.”

“Nothing personal?” Sharon says incredulously, and Alaska shoots the man a warning look. He doesn’t seem to get it.

“I have a wife. Children.”

“Do you have valuables?” Sharon sneers.

Alaska relaxes somewhat - Sharon seems to be backing down. Alaska doesn’t know what she would do if Sharon hadn’t listened to her - hadn’t kept her word.

The man squeezes his eyes shut, sweat streaming down his face. “Please, I–”

“Because I want to take something from you,” Sharon tells him, voice dangerously low, “and the other option is your life.”

“Yes! Yes, I have somethin’! Please, don’t shoot me,” he says desperately, and he grabs something around his neck, snapping the chain and hurling it at Alaska. His hand immediately goes back to his thigh.

Alaska picks the locket up from the dirt, ignoring the blood stuck to it and sticking it into Sharon’s hand. “It’s a locket,” she says, and Sharon’s face flickers strangely.

“This is it, huh?” Sharon says, her voice suddenly a lot quieter.

“It’s all I have,” the man says. “There’s a picture of my family in there - please, I’m sure you don’t want it, and it’s the only–”

“Here,” Sharon says, anger suddenly cooled, and to Alaska’s shock, she tosses the necklace back at the man. It bounces off of his chest. “Keep it. It’s worthless.”

“It’s worth something, I swear!” the man says, growing more distressed. “Please don’t–”

“I won’t kill you, Jesus!” Sharon snaps, and the man falls silent. Sharon looks at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Alaska holds her breath.

“Consider this a warning,” Sharon finally says, and Alaska lets out the breath she’d been holding. Sharon starts back towards Cerrone, that strange expression still on her face. Alaska follows silently, burning with questions and casting the man one last glance. He seems too surprised to speak.

Alaska feels the same, the sudden deescalation making the air seem unsteady and strange. Was this because of her? Maybe the lack of killing, but not the strange mood shift. It had to have been the locket, which–

The locket Alaska had found suddenly comes to mind, and the same questions suddenly worm their way back into Alaska’s mind as she mounts Peaches, the eyes of the woman in the picture holding secrets Alaska is dying to know.

That locket means something, and she intends to find out what.

“Why?” she asks Sharon, as they start moving again, leaving the man behind to figure out a way to get back home without his horse. Alaska can’t bring herself to feel guilty. A dark part of her even suggests that Sharon should have taken the locket anyway, as a form of some retribution - she finds that without the fear that Sharon will kill anyone, anger burns inside her, as well, a desire for vengeance.

She ignores the feeling.

For a moment, Sharon looks like she’s going to fling a barb at Alaska, before she suddenly slumps, looking tired. “I made a promise. You said I was better than murder,” she says, and Alaska startles at the reminder. “And you were right. I’m glad I didn’t kill him.”

It’s not the whole truth, but Alaska doesn’t dare to push for more. Not when Sharon’s looking at her with that unreadable expression, a glowing warmth filling her chest. She’d kept her word. Alaska loves her.

“I’m glad you didn’t either.”

🌸

“Fire really is man’s greatest invention,” Alaska sighs as the pile of dead brush Sharon’s been messing with for fifteen minutes finally catches, reaching her hands out to the warmth of the small flame. The night had brought a bitter chill along with it, and after around an hour of riding in it and several slices of dried meat, Sharon had decided to call it a day.

“Well, a woman made this one,” Sharon says, and Alaska rolls her eyes.

“Have you ever actually picked up a book?”

“I know how to read, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not, but that’s good to know.”

“Wealthy people are the only ones with time to read, anyway.”

“Tell that to Jinkx,” Alaska snorts.

“Fine. Jinkx and wealthy people are the only ones with time to read,” Sharon amends, an amused smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. “I read a lot as a kid, though.”

Alaska immediately perks up at the mention of Sharon’s past, and she suddenly doesn’t know how to reply - she doesn’t want to accidentally make Sharon close off again. “You did?” she goes with, just to be safe.

“All the time. It was all I ever did,” Sharon laughs, leaning back on her hands to look at the fire. “My mother hated me.”

“Mine did too,” Alaska says, unable to help the crooked smile that crawls across her face. “Although it was more about playing in the dirt than reading books. She would have loved it if I were a little more studious.”

“Jesus, I wasn’t studious,” Sharon snorts. “I read Little Women and thought I could do whatever I wanted.”

“And now you can. Looks like your wish came true,” Alaska teases, but Sharon’s smile fades.

“Not in the way that I’d wanted.”

They lapse into silence, and Alaska stares into the fire, thousands of questions burning on her tongue. This is her chance to ask one - she just has to make sure it’s the right one. She itches to probe more into Sharon’s childhood, into what went wrong and why she’s here, but Sharon’s skittish defense everytime Alaska brings up her past outside of being an outlaw has Alaska hesitating.

She risks a glance at Sharon, who appears deep in thought, a slight crease between her brows and her eyes far away. Alaska scoots a little closer. Maybe she’ll ask something safe, first, to test the waters.

“What did Kameron do for you?” she asks softly.

Sharon blinks like she’s confused, looking over at Alaska with a frown on her face. “What?”

“You mentioned owing her,” Alaska says, trying not to get irritated. It’s not like Sharon is acting clueless on purpose. “What do you owe her for?”

A strange expression crosses Sharon’s face. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Alaska repeats, voice flat.

“I’ve only met her a few times,” Sharon elaborates, “and two of those involved a couple of drinks at a bar and nothing else. The other was a funeral. She hasn’t done anything for me, and I certainly haven’t done anything for her.” Her tone suddenly grows bitter, and unease swirls in Alaska’s stomach as an unpleasant idea comes to mind.

“You didn’t - you didn’t do anything to her, did you?”

There’s a long pause. “No,” Sharon says finally, but there’s a strange lack of conviction in her tone.

There’s another long pause in which Alaska waits for her to continue, but as it becomes evident that she never will, irritation pops in her chest like a bubble.

“You have to give me more than that,” she says, abruptly louder, and Sharon jumps a little. “Sharon, this is ridiculous.”

Sharon sits up, a warning expression on her face. “What is?”

“Are you kidding me?” Alaska cries. “All I know about you is that you used to read and you have a baby brother buried somewhere! And both of those were unprompted!”

“Maybe that should tell you something about asking, then!”

“I doubt you’re going to give me your life’s story unprompted, Sharon!”

“I don’t have to give you my life’s story,” Sharon snaps, a familiar defensiveness creeping in on the edges of her expression. “You don’t want it, no matter how much you think you do.”

“I do want it,” Alaska says earnestly, grabbing Sharon’s hands. “I want to know everything there is to know about you. I want to know where you came from, what you like, what you hate, why you act the way you do - I love you, Sharon, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence, and realization dawns on Alaska as she stares into Sharon’s shocked face. “Um - I mean – I just got a little– I just meant–”

“I’ll tell you,” Sharon says, and then she takes in a deep breath, like she hadn’t meant to say it. Alaska stares at her, her face still warm.

“You’ll tell me?”

“I–” Sharon cuts herself off, and her hands squeeze Alaska’s briefly. “I’ll tell you. Just - just promise me that you’ll say it again when I’m done.”

“I will,” Alaska says without hesitation, and Sharon looks her in the eyes, her expression strange. It takes Alaska a moment to realize that she’s afraid.

“Promise,” she says, and Alaska nods, her heartbeat quickening. What the hell could Sharon possibly be so afraid of?

“I promise,” Alaska says. “I promise I’ll still love you.” She can’t truly promise this, but she prays that she can hold to it. Her love suddenly feels so strong, so powerful - she feels like she would break down mountains with her bare hands for the woman in front of her.

She can hold to it.

Sharon swallows audibly, and as she begins, her hands squeeze Alaska’s so tightly that she’s afraid she’ll have bruises once Sharon lets go. She can’t bring herself to care, Sharon’s story the only thing she can focus on.

“It all has to do with Chad,” Sharon starts, voice a little shaky. “Chad Michaels. She saved me.” Sharon takes another breath. “She’s so goddamn entangled in my life - nothing will make sense unless I start at the beginning.”

She stops, clearly hesitant. Alaska hums in encouragement, and Sharon’s eyes drop down to the ground as she continues.

“I got married when I was eighteen. He was a well known banker in our town and he asked my parents for my hand before he even asked me.”

Alaska shouldn’t be surprised to hear that Sharon had been married - it’s nearly unavoidable. But some part of her had thought Sharon to be above it all, had thought that she had been the woman sitting in front of her since the day she was born. That idea is starting to crumble, now.

“My family needed help - we had too many bad years to recover very well. So, I married him, and I moved into his house. It was fine for a week, but I guess the idea of a ‘headstrong woman’ grew less attractive the longer we were together,” Sharon says, expression growing dark. “It got to the point where he would hit me if I spoke first. He wouldn’t listen when I said–” Sharon stops, clearly overwhelmed and breathing heavily.

Alaska blinks away her tears, her own breathing quickening. “Sharon,” she says quietly, suddenly sick to her stomach. “Sharon, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” Sharon says, voice growing stronger. “I’m going to.”

Alaska doesn’t know if she wants it any longer, every word of Sharon’s feeling like a knife twisting in her chest, but she nods. She asked for this, and if Sharon wants to stop, she can.

“Things were bad,” Sharon sums up, and Alaska lets out a watery laugh.

“Sounds like an understatement.”

Sharon cracks a small smile, and Alaska nearly cries with relief at the sight of it. “That’s because it is,” she says, letting out a breath.

“Did you ever report him?” Alaska asks, anger slowly making its way into her chest the longer she looks at Sharon’s face. She wants vengeance on this man she’s never met - Sharon has to have wanted it more.

Sharon’s eyebrow twitches strangely. “No,” she says, after a moment. “I never did.”

“Why not?” Alaska asks, beginning to get worked up. “He was - you just took it?”

Guilt instantly spikes in her stomach at the hurt in Sharon’s expression, and she scrambles to remove it. “No,” she amends quickly, tightening her grip on Sharon’s hands before she can pull them away. “You wouldn’t have if you didn’t have to. I’m sorry. He just–”

“Deserves to fucking rot in hell?” Sharon snorts, voice bitter. “I know. But life isn’t fair.”

“How did you get out, then? Did you run?”

“It was Chad,” Sharon says, her lips curling into a small smile at the name. “She - I was with Lucas for a year. He would send me out to the general store for tobacco pretty often, and it was there that I met Chad. I don’t remember how, but we started talking, and she somehow figured out what was going on. I think she asked one question about it and I immediately started crying in the store like some child.” Sharon laughs. “She was clearly different - she was wearing pants and she had a gun stuck to her hip. She invited me to leave town with her. I accepted. She even offered to kill Lucas for me, but I told her not to. I regret it now.”

Alaska remains silent, unable to bring herself to argue - she finds herself agreeing, even though she knows she shouldn’t. Why should Sharon have mercy when clearly, he had none? What’s just in that?

“We ran around for three years like two idiots,” Sharon says, smiling fondly. “She was like a mother to me. We had matching lockets - I think that’s what you found, last night.”

Regal eyes flash across Alaska’s memory, and she nods, raising her eyebrows. “Why don’t you wear it?” she asks, before she can really think about it, and guilt is just barely beginning to plunge into her stomach when Sharon finally answers after a long beat.

“Looking at her makes me feel guilty,” she says, voice quiet again. “She’s dead.”

Alaska tries not to jolt with surprise at Sharon’s blunt tone. “It’s not your fault,” she says automatically, and Sharon glares.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Did you shoot her?” Alaska asks pointedly, and Sharon shakes her head. “Then it’s not your fault.”

“You’ll change your mind once I tell you I was the one who convinced Chad to join forces with Lawrence Solomon,” Sharon snaps, and Alaska’s worry spikes when she sees that there are tears in her eyes. “I didn’t even trust him - we just needed money, and he was the easiest way to it. A fucking robbery,” she snorts disparagingly. “Split evenly down the middle. It’s so obvious now that it was a set up.”

“You’re acting like Chad couldn’t have said no,” Alaska says gently, but Sharon barrels on, seemingly deaf to her point.

“I fucking - I threatened to go in with him on my own even if Chad didn’t want to. She was so concerned–” Sharon sucks in another deep breath. “Long story short, we robbed a carriage - a fucking carriage - and I watched as he shot her in the– I ran.” Sharon takes another deep breath, clearly trying her best to keep her tears at bay, her expression crumpling. “I abandoned her, Alaska, and the least I can do to make up for it is to be there for her daughter. I–”

Alaska cuts her off with a kiss, anger and relief driving it with force - anger, because Sharon blaming herself for this is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard, and relief, because Sharon blaming herself for this is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.

She breaks off the kiss to look Sharon in the eyes. The other woman looks conflicted, hope and uncertainty in her expression. “I love you, Sharon Needles,” Alaska tells her, and it feels so freeing to say, “and none of that was your fault.”

Sharon looks like she disagrees, holding her breath for a short moment. “You just–”

“Shut up,” Alaska says, unwilling to tolerate any more. “I love you.”

Sharon looks at her for a long time, dried tear tracks on her cheeks to match Alaska’s. She clearly still doesn’t believe Alaska, but her expression shifts suddenly, like despite her disagreement, it doesn’t matter anymore.

“I love you too, Lasky,” she says softly, the warmth that Alaska has been seeing in her gaze for a week now shining out of her face.

It’s the best thing Alaska’s ever heard. It floods her with a happiness she’s never experienced, an elation that makes her feel like she could fly.

She grins, cheeks hurting from how hard she’s smiling, and she pulls Sharon into another, deeper, kiss.

She feels like she could burst with happiness, with warmth - she wants to hold Sharon tight and never let go, she wants to scream her love from the mountain tops, she wants to go anywhere and everywhere with this woman.

She’s in love. She’s loved. She could conquer the world.

As they gently fall over onto the ground, Alaska’s hands in Sharon’s hair and Sharon’s hands somewhere up her shirt, Alaska feels closer to this woman than she’s ever been to anyone.

She’s starting to understand why Sharon had reacted to the robbery the way she had - she can only hope that this mission goes more smoothly.

It has to. Alaska’s too wrapped up in Sharon to even consider the alternative.

#rpdr fanfiction #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #jinkx monsoon #alyssa edwards #phi phi o'hara #morgan mcmichaels #shalaska #lesbian au #cowboy au #western au #wild flower #freyja #tw gun violence #tw mentions of past abuse #tw mention of past character death

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kl4us4 · 5 years

Text

AHOY (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Request: Hi do you wanna bless the world with a steve harrington x reader where you're dustin's older sister and y'all are on a mission (like in s3 for example) and you slowly fall in love with each other and dustin annoys you with it?😅 or make a hc instead of all the little things/habits steve loves about you. Thank you🙈❤

general masterlist

You push the door open to Scoops Ahoy, stumbling back when Erica and her friends storm out. You give her a look of shock as you gesture for her and her friends to walk out. Erica looks up at you, her brown eyes analyzing you and your new clothes.

“Here for Steve?” She interrogates, holding her icecream in one hand and resting her other hand on her hip.

“Yes.” You respond, “He is my best friend.”

She just gives you a smirk before shrugging up at you and turning to follow her waiting friends. Shaking your head, you let out a sigh as you walk to the counter. Unbeknown to you, Robin spots you, eyes widening before she turns back to the back room and calls out for Steve.

He’s quick to run out to the front room, hands crossed over the embarrassing uniform that you’ve laughed at him for a thousand times. “Ahoy, Y/N!” He exclaims, giving you a smirk as you laugh at him.

“Is it protocol to say that every time?” You ask him, as he leads you to a vacant table, leaving Robin to fend for herself.

“Ha. Ha.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh, leaning back in the booth. “Did you bring it?” He now gives you a serious look.

“I brought it.” You confirm. Pulling out the small book from your back pocket, you place it on the table. Steve grins, his hand moving to grab the book but you slide it away from him. “Not so fast, Harrington.” You state, leaning your elbows on the table and giving him a serious look.

Steve narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms as he leans forward on the table, closer to you. “Are you going to make me bargain for it, Y/N?” He asks, his voice low.

You tilt your head at him, a small smirk on your lips. “Maybe.” You admit, holding the book up in the air and looking at it. When you lean back and flick through the book, Steve almost sighs at the loss of closeness. “Beginners English to Russian translation... What could you possibly need this for?”

Steve shrugs, his confident facade dropping. “Translating...” He mumbles, “Russian.”

You fire back, “For what?”

“My... cousin is Russian.”

“Boy or girl?” You ask.

“G-boy.” He answers.

“G-boy?” You repeat, raising an eyebrow at him. It’s kind of fun seeing him squirm for an answer under your intimidating glance, especially after how confident he was two seconds ago.

Steve pauses, looking into your eyes before answering with confidence. But as quick as he answers, you’re there with another question. “Boy.”

“Name?”

“St...an. Stanis.” Steve nods, looking at you closely and examining if you’ve fallen for it or not.

God, he’s bad at this. He literally almost said his own name. You throw the book on the table, giving him a nod and a fake smile. “Okay, cool!”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“No.” Quickly, you grab the book from the table, standing and heading for the door as Steve rushes behind you.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He pulls you back by your arm, causing you to look at his gentle hand, “I need that book.”

“Why?” You inquire, giving him a plain look, “And don’t lie to me. Even Eleven knows friends don’t lie.”

He pauses, hearing that dreaded word. Friends. It hasn’t been easy coming to terms that he was in love with his best friend... it took a lot of thinking and talking to Robin. Honestly, Steve never realised how perfect you two were together until after he graduated high school. It took leaving the pressures of King Steve for him to realise he’d be happy if you were the only person in his life.

“Yeah, alright.” Steve eventually sighs, letting go of your arm, “Well, it is for translating Russian but... Shit, Dustin would kill me if I told you.” He lets out a small laugh before seeing your expression.

“What have you gotten my brother in to now?” You question him, “And why am I out of the loop?”

“Hey, love birds!” Robin shouts, ignoring Steves wide, angry eyes at the term, “Once you have the book, can you do your job, so that I can do mine?” Robin speaks up, shouting across the counter to you.

“Good to see you again, Robin.” You smile at her, waving a hand. Steve gazes at you fondly, admiring how pretty you look when you’re happy. When you glance up at him, he just laughs awkwardly and shakes his head at Robins comment. “How are you doing?” You ask her as she makes her way to the two of you.

She crosses her arms, a tired expression on her face, “Busy. Russian broadcasts don’t translate themselves.”

“Robin!”

“Wha- Russian Broadcasts?”

“Steve, you told her?!” Dustin appears at the foot of the table, his arms raised as he glares at his friend. “We had a plan!”

“What plan?” You narrow your eyes at Steve. Robin stands there looking at the ground awkwardly.

“Robin told her, I’m an innocent bystander!” Steve defends himself, raising his hands as he points to Robin who just stands there idly before stealing the book and heading to the counter as more customers come in.

Dustin's eyes drift towards yours as you stare at Steve, eyebrows raised incredulously. Attempting to escape his sister's wrath, he tries to head for the door. “Sit. Now.” You order him. Steve watches you in anticipation, hanging on to your every word, glance, and expression, “You too. Sit down." He does as told, the two boys sit in the booth and you take a seat beside Steve. “Spill.”

“Never.” Your brother says, making you glare at him and Steve steps in.

“You know his walkie talkie thing?” He asks you, moving closer to you in the booth as he lowers his voice.

“Yeah, annoying as shit and old as dirt.” You nod, ignoring Dustin as he tells you it’s the best thing to ever happen to him.

Steve ignores him too, leaning just a little closer and you frown at him. “Your brother intercepted a Russian-”

“A secret Russian-”

“A - sorry, yeah - Secret Russian Communication,” Steve whispers to you before moving away. There’s a long pause. The two boys await your response with big grins.

“So?” You ask. Their faces fall.

“So?” Your brother repeats, giving you a look of disbelief, “It’s the communists! We have a chance to figure out what they’re saying, what if we could be heroes, save Hawkins... save America!” When you just stare at him, he turns to Steve, “Told you she wouldn’t get it.”

“Get it?” You repeat, “I get it, I just don’t think a little boy and a... sailor can do much about Communists.”

“Little?” Dustin gasps.

“Sailor?” Steve raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat, “I’m clearly a captain.”

“Y/N,” Dustin announces, “This could lead to something big!”

“Which is why you decided to keep this a secret from me?” You wonder, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, like you haven’t kept secrets from me!” Dustin rolls his eyes, earning a confused look from you.

“What are you talking about, Dustin?” You frown at your brother who is getting on your last nerves.

“Don’t act dumb!” He points a finger at you which you slap away.

“What?” You almost laugh at his childishness.

“You keep secrets from me and Mom!”

“Dustin,” you announce, a smile on your face, “I’m so good at keeping secrets you wouldn’t know if I were keeping any secrets because that’s how good at keeping secrets I am!” You tell him.

“You threw up at our doorstep when you were coming home late at night two weeks ago and you said you had food poisoning from studying at Tammy’s house, but I know for a fact that it was because you were drinking at Steve‘s secret party!” Dustin blurts out. Silence follows.

You face Steve, waiting for him to look you in the eyes. What else has he told your brother about you? “Thanks.” You smile angrily.

Steve mouths a ‘sorry’ as Dustin continues. “Unless you want Mom to know about that then I suggest you help us, okay?”

Thinking it over, you remember how mad your mom got last time you lied to her about studying with Steve when in reality you went to Carol’s party. And it was such a bust too, boring as shit, definitely not worth being grounded over. If she knows you were drinking, with Steve no less, she’d forbid you from ever seeing him - or the sun - again.

“Did Camp No Friends teach you how to be so manipulative?” You ask your little brother, watching him as he stands from the booth.

Dustin just lets out a fake laugh, standing from the table and heading to the back room of Scoops.

“My bad.” Steve tells you, giving you an apologetic smile, “It must’ve slipped.”

“Mhmm, I guess it must have.” You respond, turning to him as you both sit in the booth, “Luckily he doesn’t know about Tommy H’s party, right? Would be a shame if someone-”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve holds back a laugh, incredulous that you’d bring that night up, “Dustin would hate me if he knew I kissed his sister.”

You nod up at him, trying so hard to ignore how close his lips are to yours. “Yeah, he would.” You smile, raising your eyebrows mischievously.

“Alright!” Steve tilts his head at you, pouting his lips, “I’m sorry for not being able to keep my mouth shut.”

“And?”

“And for getting overly friendly when I’m drunk.” He jokes, making you both laugh before together.

You and Steve follow Dustin to the back room of Scoops, where a very displeased Robin complains about how she had to close the shop on her own because Steve was ‘too busy making goo-goo eyes at Y/N.’

And now, here you all are. Plus Erica. Looking into a weird metal box. Steve opens it slowly and you all watch with curiosity as cold air flows out of it. “What the hell?” You remark.

“It’s definitely not Chinese food.” Steve states, looking back to the rest of the group, “Maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.” Gently placing his hand on your arm, Steve gives you a serious look before he pulls you behind him. Dustin protests. Loudly.

“No.” Dustin shakes his head, looking into the box as he stands beside Steve.

The older boy pushes his little friend back slightly, “Seriously, come on, step back.”

“No,” Dustin repeats, looking up at Steve with a serious expression, “If you die, I die.”

You watch the interaction, letting out a big sigh before stepping from behind Steve, who turns to you. “Not you too, come on, just-”

“You die, he dies, I die.” You shrug, giving Steve a nod before sending a small smile your brother's way. Dustin remains serious, giving you a curt nod back as if he’s some kind of US soldier. You and Steve both share another look before you give him a reassuring nod, mouthing ‘It’s okay’ to him.

“Okay,” Steve mutters back, looking back to the cold metal. A few noises click as Steve opens the cylinder, pulling it out to reveal... “What the hell?” You and Steve both exclaim in unison.

“What is that?” Robin asks, eyeing the bright green liquid.

Suddenly, the room shakes, making you grip onto your little brother's shoulders. “Did the room just shake?” Dustin asks, looking to you with wide eyes.

“No, no, no, I’m sure it’s all... fine.” You tell him, looking back to Steve with a less than convincing expression.

“Booby traps.” Whispers Erica, her face full of fear. It’s a new look for her. The room shakes again. Your head snaps towards Dustin, whose eyes are even wider than they were two seconds ago.

“You know what?” Announces Robin, moving to Steve and taking the vile from his hand, “Let’s just grab that. And go.” Dustin springs to action, moving to the buttons while you watch as Steve puts the container back.

Steve turns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”

Trying to hide a smile, you shrug, “Yeah, I’m-”

“Which one do I press, erica?” Dustin calls out, his voice filled with anxiety at the fact that none of the buttons is working.

“Just press the damn button, nerd.” She shouts back as Robin places the vile inside her backpack.

“I’m pressing the button!” Dustin exclaims, making erica begin to shout louder. Robin then joins in on the shouting, causing Steve to sigh and examine the panel. The room shakes again, this time a red wall comes down, shielding you all from the exit.

“What the hell did you do now?” You curse, rushing to see the panel of buttons, some lit some not. More noises. You look around, your heart speeding up as you wait for something else to happen.

Suddenly, all at once, the elevator begins a descent into God knows where. Robin begins screaming, everyone clings to whatever they can. For Steve, that means you. He wraps his arms around you out of instinct, holding you close to his chest as the wind whips around the elevator. Your hand holds Dustin's as you fall together.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You curse, squeezing your eyes shut as your free hand grips onto Steve’s shirt. You can barely hear him but you know he’s saying words of comfort as he holds you, trying to steady you two when the elevator suddenly stops. The air is knocked out of your lungs as everyone crashes to the ground. You land beside Steve, one leg over his. Grunting as you sit up, you look around for your brother, whose hand you lost amidst the crash. "Dustin!” You call out, ignoring the pain in your head, “Are you alright?”

“Perfect!” He grunts in frustration, standing up and immediately heading for the still closed door.

“Is everyone okay?” You shout, sighing with relief when you hear a string of yes, “Ugh, thank God.” You throw your head back, closing your eyes for a moment as you catch your breath.

Steve sits up slowly, placing a hand on your thigh to balance himself. He looks down at you, breathing quickly as you lay down. Steve places a hand on yours, “Why do we always get ourselves into situations like this?” He mumbles, eyebrows furrowed as he frowns and rolls his shoulder back and forth.

“Shit,” you sit up to look at him, “Are you hurt?” Steve just shakes his head but you know he’s lying as he stands up, holding his hands out for you to take. He helps you stand and one of his hand lingers on yours. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask him, giving him a harsh look, “I know when you’re lying.”

A small smile makes it’s way to Steve’s lips as he gazes at you, slowly nodding. “As long as you’re alright, I’m alright.”

You look down, knowing your cheeks are probably turning red. “You must’ve hit your head pretty hard.” You smile up at him, raising your eyebrows at his demeanour.

Steve stands still for a moment, shaking his head before looking up at you. “No, not at all.” He mumbles before gently placing both hands on either side of your face. You feel your cheeks heat up even warmer but you lean into his touch anyways. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I, um-”

“Is this really the right time, guys?” Robin inquires, looking between the two of you. “Trust me, I want this to happen more than anyone. More than Steve, even, just so I don’t have to hear him talk about you every shift. But we‘re about to die in an elevator.”

You both pull away from each other and you immediately look to the floor, not meeting Steve or anyone's eyes whatsoever. “Yeah, you’re right,” Steve mutters, shaking his head slightly. He leans towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before turning to the group, “So, now what?”

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve x reader #steve harrington imagine #Steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington fanfic #Steve harrington fic #Steve harrington x reader imagine #Steve harrington x reader fluff #Steve harrington x reader fic #Steve harrington x reader fanfic #stranger things steve #stranger things steve harrington

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