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painsandconfusion-moved-shoo · 3 years

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Waking Dreamer: Part Two Poached

[Previous | Next] (tw: blood, nightmare mentions, gaslighting, nudity (showering - not explicit))

[Sorry I promise we will get whumpy in the next scene. Pinky promise.]

The woman danced in and out of Aaron's dreams the rest of the night. He would be walking down the dream street, petting a dog or ordering a hot dog at a stand, and he would catch a glimpse of her across the street. Just...staring at him. Aaron's heart rate would pick up, but he sucked Core energy up through the ground and let it permeate the dream.

She disappeared in a wash of melting, golden light. Every time.

So why hadn't he been able to make her vanish in his other dream?

Aaron sat on the dream-sidewalk, flexing his fingers. Staring at his palm. He could feel the Core radiating through the dream, practically begging to be used. Filling ever pore of his being with the invisible, warm glow.

Was...was his magic faltering? Is that even a thing that could happen? Aaron shook his head. He must have just been too stupidly scared to do anything with the Core. It was too slippery when his heart-rate was up.

That must be it.

He was the master of reality here. This was HIS safe place. As long as he realized he was in a dream, he had full control.

So...why had the Core deserted him before?

Aaron gazed across the dream street. He let the energy flow from his fingertips, willing her to manifest again on the sidewalk.

She did.

Just the sight of her put his stomach in knots. Flashes of his face dripping with blood danced across his vision. She stared back at him, eerily.

He raised a hand, pulling at her essence like a puppet on strings. The hand movements weren't necessary by any means, but they helped him visualize.

Under his guidance, she smiled warmly, one hand resting on her hip. Relaxed and entirely approachable. He had her pull out her phone, chew her lip while scrolling. Tuck her hair behind her ear. Behave as naturally and non-threateningly as possible.

His stomach still twisted looking at her.

He moved his hand again, and she started doing jumping jacks. Then the YMCA. Then the Macarena. Then the Thriller dance.

Nope, that one was a mistake.

Aaron bit his lip and let dissolve in a wash of golden light.

He held his head in his hands as dream traffic whooshed past him.

Aaron flinched back when a hand pressed against his shoulder, shaking slightly. He snapped his head up. She was crouched in front of him, grinning.

Fear twisted back into his blood as he scrambled back, away from her. He panted, pulling Core energy into his hands again.

He felt his shoulder shake again even without her touching him. She stepped closer. The pressure on his shoulder didn't let up.

The sky whispered "Come on, love. Rise and shine."

Everett.

He shook off the invisible hand, trying to cling to the dream a moment longer. He glared at the woman and snapped his fingers. She melted into light, blowing away with the wind.

Aaron flinched back as Everett shook him. He squinted against the harsh morning light streaming through the window.

Everett offered a warm smile, caressing his cheek. "There you are. You were out cold, darling. It's already past nine."

Aaron rubbed the grogginess out of his eyes, sitting up quickly. "After nine!? Holy shit, I'm late-"

Everett chuckled. "It's Saturday."

Aaron blinked up at him. "It is?"

"Yes, ya goof. You're fine. No work today." He shook his head and rolled up off the bed. "I'm going to make breakfast while you crawl your way back to reality. Eggs sound good?"

"Mmmm, yes please. Scrambled for me!"

Everett shook his head, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Absolutely not. If you want eggs, I'm making eggs benedict."

Aaron smirked and tipped his face up to kiss Everett again. "But I like scrambled eggs."

Everett stood up, rolling his eyes. "You deserve the best, and the best is eggs benedict. You'll see."

Aaron yawned, stretching slightly. "You're such a control freak."

Everett laughed. "Only around you, handsome." He checked his watch. "This will take a while to make, feel free to take a shower. You can wear my clothes."

"Really, scrambled eggs is fine, it's way faster anyway."

Everett smirked, "You never let up, do you? So stubborn."

"So you'll make scrambled eggs?"

"Absolutely not." Everett winked and disappeared through the door.

Arron sighed, rolling out of bed. He went into the master bathroom in Everett's bedroom - it really was so nice having that one right there.

He stood under the just-barely-hot-enough-to-hurt water, staring at the wall of the shower as it dripped down his skin.

He was surprised - and a little disgusted with himself - that the dream was bothering him more than seeing a kid murdered. It was just a dream. It was a split second of panic, yet when he imagined the woman, all he saw was her face pressed against his in the mirror - not her holding the child.

Who does something that? Let a nightmare mess with their head more than an actual child murder?

Aaron squeezed his eyes shut. He was so fucked up. Selfish and weak and fucked up. He couldn't tell if he had started crying. If he did, the tears were completely lost to the water. Irrelevant and forgotten.

Everett would be waiting for him if he took too long. The thick shampoo melted down his face. All he could feel was blood. Aaron gagged, scrubbing at his face. He rubbed his eyes until spots covered his vision, then stared at his hands. They were clean. Of course there was no blood.

He was going fucking crazy over one dream. Aaron gritted his teeth. Dreams were his. They were his safe place. Losing that was...maddening.

Almost as maddening of the phantom blood running down his neck. He could still feel it.

So stupid.

Aaron snapped off the water and stepped out. He toweled off and rummaged through Everett's neatly organized drawers for a black t-shirt and pair of faded jeans - they fit him differently than they fit Everett, but they were approximately the same size, so it worked. The shirt smelled like Everett - all warm, earthy caramels. It made him smile. He looked in the mirror, tossing his wet hair, trying to get it to fall in an at least semi-attractive way.

It wasn't working. Whatever.

Sighing, he looked his reflection in the eyes, trying not to see the outline of the woman's face on his shoulder. His eyes were tinged red. Guess he had been crying after all. Mystery solved.

He glanced at his shoulder.

She wasn't there. Of course she wasn't there.

It still felt like she was. He could still feel her hand on his cheek.

Aaron rolled his eyes. He was starting to annoy himself with his paranoia. He smoothed down the t-shirt and skipped downstairs.

Everett was leaning over the stove, whisking something. Aaron wrapped his arms around Everett's waist, tucking his chin on his shoulder. "How are the eggs coming?"

Everett turned to give his hair a light kiss, then turned back to his work. "Pretty good, you have good timing."

Aaron saw now that he had a glass bowl on top of a boiling pot of water - well, not quite boiling. He lifted the bowl, setting it to the side, then reached to the counter to pick up an egg form the carton.

"The trick is to keep the water moving. If it slows down, the egg won't cook right. You have to break it at juuuuust the right time." He used a wooden spoon to stir the water, then cracked the egg in the center of the gentle whirlpool.

Aaron watched the whites form, swirling in the middle of the pot. "Maybe if you stir it a little more, it you have a bigger window of time."

Everett shook his head. "That's no good. If there's too much agitation at once, the egg will fall apart and it won't turn out how you want it. You have to do it slow." He scooped the egg up with a drained ladle, gently letting it slide off onto a bowl lined with paper towels, then started on the next.

He cracked it slowly. Gently. Then eased it into the spinning water, soft as a caress.

He was very good at this.

"Looks like you've had practice."

Everett's voice was distant. Focused and distracted. "I like poaching eggs. There's an art to it. The gentler you are, the better it turns out. It requires a lot of patience and attention." He readied the ladle again, staring intently at the egg. "Some people try to bake them in water, which is just ridiculous. Some people put it straight in without stirring the water first."

"That sounds easier."

Everett shook his head. "No, the water has to guide them. If you give the egg too much freedom, it struggles. Bounces around. It cooks unevenly. No, it has to be done just right, kept safe and sound in a predictable, controlled place - that's when you get the best results." He gently scooped the ladle under the egg and transported it to another bowl with paper towels.

The toaster popped. Everett gave the toaster a big, stupid grin. "Nailed that timing. Did you see that?"

Aaron chuckled. "Yes, very impressive, chef." He moved to the cabinet, grabbing two plates and setting them on the counter.

Everett arranged the dish quickly, tossing an english muffin (at least that's what Aaron thought it was?) on each plate, Canadian bacon, then - ever so carefully - shifting the poached eggs on top. He used a serving spoon to douse each one in the yellow stuff he had been whisking before.

"Beautiful work, sir."

Everett beamed back at him like a four year old showing his mother a crayon picture.

It really did look impressive.

Everett slid the plates over to the bar. Aaron skipped around to settle down on a stool. Everett stayed standing on the other side. He never sat while he ate - didn't even own a table. He preferred to say 'on the move'. Aaron didn't understand it, but he supposed he didn't have to.

Everett clattered a fork and butterknife across the bar to him.

"Thanks!" Aaron poked at the dish. "Um...so what is the yellow stuff?"

Everett paused in the middle of cutting himself a bite. "Wait, have you never had eggs benedict before?"

Aaron shrugged. "I mean, I've heard of it, but-"

Everett laughed. "I can't believe you've never had this before. Sometimes I forget how sheltered you are."

Aaron shook his head playfully, "Yup, I'm pathetic, now what is the yellow stuff?"

"It's hollandaise sauce." He enunciated dragged the bite he had cut across the plate, sweeping up more of the yellow sauce before popping the bite in his mouth.

"Okay, and what is hollandaise sauce?"

Everett shook his head. "It's its own thing, you'll have to just try it."

He cut himself another bite while Aaron stared down at his plate. He stabbed his fork in and started cutting. It was...hard and soft at the same time? Yolk dripped out from the egg, slightly darker than the sauce.

He glanced up at Everett's expectant face before taking a bite. It...squished in his mouth? The egg had an almost foamy texture, and it was smothered in raw yolk. He desperately tried not to gag, forcing the bite down his throat, focusing on the flavor the Canadian bacon to get him through it.

Everett's jaw clenched, all lingering amusement drained away from his eyes. "You don't like it." He stared down at the dish. "How can you not like it, it's perfect?"

Aaron swallowed stray sauce that had suctioned to his gums. He tried a smile. "I'm sorry, Ev. I just really can't stand raw yolk. It's not your fault or anything."

Everett blinked down at him.

"Really, it's okay. I wasn't that hungry anyway."

Everett let out a long breath, then swiped the plate away. He dumped the contents in the trash can.

"No, don't th-"

"That took over half an hour to make," he muttered. He tossed his plate too, one bite gone.

Aaron stood up. "I-I'm sorry."

Everett rubbed his eyes, taking deep, controlled breaths.

"...Ev?"

Everett turned to him after a few seconds. "Don't be sorry. I'm sorry." He came around the bar and cradled Aaron's face between his hands. He pressed his forehead to Aaron's. "I just know you had a bad night and wanted to try to make it better. When you didn't like it, I just...I'm sorry for losing my cool."

Aaron relaxed into his touch. "It's okay, I'm probably on edge. It's not you."

Everett tipped his face up for a quick kiss. "Let me make it up to you. How about you say over again tonight, and I'll make you scrambled eggs in the morning? Extra cheese. Just how you like it."

Aaron smiled. "That sounds perfect."

Everett pulled away. "Great! That means you don't have to go."

Aaron laughed. "I'd like to at least go get a change of clothes and an overnight bag or something."

"Why? You have a toothbrush here and you look so good in my clothes." He pinched the front of Aaron's t-shirt, teasing.

Aaron glanced down. Everett was still wearing his white shirt. He mirrored the movement. "Looks like we swapped."

Everett chuckled, "Looks like it. I like it that way." He tapped at Aaron's chest. "You know, my clothes look good on you, but I know they look good off you, too."

Aaron laughed, swatting his hand away. "I really have to go, I should at least give Jessie an update." He pulled away.

"Why?"

Aaron looked back at him. "Why what?"

"Why do you have to update Jessie?"

Aaron sighed. "I don't know, I guess he's my roommate? He should probably know what happened yesterday."

"But yesterday you didn't want to tell him."

Aaron picked at his nails, distracted. "No, I didn't."

"So what changed?"

"I don't know, I guess I just was putting it off."

Everett sighed, putting a hand on Aaron's shoulder. "I just can only imagine how awkward and awful it is trying to talk to someone like that about hard things. You never know what you're actually feeling around Jessie."

Aaron's brows furrowed together. "He doesn't do that with me. He said he wouldn't."

Jessie's use of the Core was...invasive.

He could control, give, manipulate, and remove emotions. He mostly was sent in by police forces to render threats emotionally useless. They just...dropped to their knees, sobbing. Or if they were angry, he would calm them down. Whatever the situation needed, he was there. He was a hero.

But...Everett was right. It was had to know what you were feeling around a person like that. He always wanted to help. To just take all the pain away. Make it disappear like it never existed.

Everett took both his hands in his. "I just want you to be somewhere where you feel like you can be real. I let you be real, this is a safe place." He took in a deep breath. "But if you want to tell Jessie, I get that. He's your roommate. Your friend. So...just do whatever you think would be best for you."

Aaron smiled sadly. "Thank you for understanding all of that." Aaron glanced towards the door. "He really would want to know, though."

Aaron made to pull away, but Everett gripped his hands a little tighter.

"What can I do to convince you to stay?"

Aaron laughed. He did that a lot around Ev. "You really want me here that badly?"

"Absolutely. I love having you here." He sighed, glancing up at the celing. "I was also a dick this morning, and I want to make it up to you."

Aaron rolled his eyes. "You weren't a dick."

"No, I was. Besides, you know what sounds good right now?"

"What?"

"A morning nap."

Aaron glanced at the clock. "It's not even ten in the morning."

Everett tugged him towards the couch. "That's why it's called a morning nap." He pushed Aaron lightly down onto the cushions. "You and I are both short on sleep after last night. You especially could use the beauty rest."

"Pff thanks."

Everett rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean." He laid down on the couch, tucking his arms around Aaron and pulling them both down.

"Ev, I'm not even tired," he laughed.

"Shh, it's nap time."

Aaron smiled and shook his head. What was he going to do with this man. This wonderful, goofy, intoxicating man.

"Fine," he murmured, snuggling in, "I'll cuddle, but don't get cranky if I can't fall asleep."

Everett squeezed a little tighter. "I don't think you'll have that problem."

Aaron let out a small, dramatic sigh.

But Everett was right. It was hardly a few minutes before he was lulled into the darkness, nestled in Everett's arms.

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(tags: @prisonerwhump, @whumpawink, @mabledonut, @heathenwhump, @jadeocean46910, @paleassprince, @distinctlywhumpthing)

#yup #im officially terrified of everett #sorry no real whump in this scene #Everett had to go and be creepy about eggs #waking dreamer #my writing #series #nightmare #blood #magical whumpee #hastag dont fall asleep

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fieryghxul · 4 years

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Margaritas, reunions and confessions. [a.h.]

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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warning(s): fem!reader – dom!hotch (well i tried) – last season’s spoilers – drinking – cursing – smut – unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it tho) – oral sex (fem receiving) – slight chocking – a bit fluff at the end.

A/N: hello everyone! this is super random but i came up with this in the middle of the night and i couldn't shake the idea out of my head. i am not a writer and english is not my first language so if there’s any mistake, i apologize in advance. also, this is my first hotch smut so i hope it’s good. enjoy!

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[March 14th, 2020. 8:30 pm.]

“I have to go but promise me that you’re going to stop thinking about work and that you’re going to have fun these days.” You heard the pleading voice of Penelope Garcia on the phone as you walked out of the bathroom.

“I promise. I love you and I’ll see you when I get back.” You smiled and you knew that she was smiling too.

“It’s a date, angel. Love you more.” And with that, the line went silent.

You put your cell phone aside and took a look at the open suitcases on the bed. You didn't have anything planned but you knew you have to go out to clear your head and relax, things at work have been very stressful lately so when Prentiss told the team about taking some vacation time, you didn't hesitate to get a ticket and get on the first plane you found.

And that's why you were currently in a hotel room in Santorini, Greece. Yes, it seems like a lot, but nothing you can't afford.

A few minutes later, you finished applying some mascara and lip gloss, and took a few steps back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The navy-blue self-tie slit dress hugged every curve of your body perfectly; you paired it with a pair of black heels and a black jacket, just in case it gets cold at night. After taking one last look and smiling slightly at the reflection, you turned to grab your bag and left the room, hoping to have a good night once you were out of the hotel.

▪ ▪ ▪

People flooded the streets and it was understandable, the night was really beautiful, there was a light breeze and the full moon was perfectly reflected in the sea. You have been walking for almost 2 hours, taking photos of almost everything and enjoying the night until you came across a bar, the word "cocktail" in the name of the place definitely caught your attention so you didn't think twice before walking into the place.

You walked to the bar and waited for the bartender to come up to you. While you were waiting, you could feel the back of your neck burning, someone was watching you but you didn’t want to deal with anyone yet, so you just ignored it, concentrating on reading the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order.

“Good evening, ma'am. Are you ready to order?” You look up from the menu, a brunette in her 20s is at the other side of the bar was smiling at you.

“Uh, yes, a margarita would be fine.” You ordered, mirroring her smile, and the girl gave you a little nod before walking away.

In the meantime you took your phone out of your bag and opened the ‘bau ladies’ group chat to send one or two of the photos you took a few hours ago with a “next time, i’m bringing all of your cute asses with me.” below them.

JJ was the first to reply, “oh my god, it’s gorgeous!”

Followed by Emily’s “look at that and some of us are still doing paperwork :( get drunk on my behalf please.”

You chuckled under your breath at her text and the margarita arrives just in time, “i’m on it, boss ;) isn't it a little late to be doing paperwork?"

Penelope replies next, “paperwork hahaha what a weird way to spell tara’s name“ and two “PENELOPE!” appear automatically in chat.

“you two are so obvious and spencer owns me 20 now.” You hit the send button before graving the margarita, taking a few sips of it. It takes about 3 minutes for your phone to vibrate again and you were about to answered but you are interrupted by the bartender.

“From the man at that table, ma'am.” She says placing another margarita in front of you and discreetly pointing at one of the tables that were on the patio of the place, you turned around but the only thing you see from the bar is his back. “Don’t worry; it doesn’t have anything weird on it.”

“Thank you...” The bartender walks away again and you stare at the drink, debating for a moment about whether or not to go and face the mysterious man. Fuck it. You decided before putting you phone back in your bag, forgetting about the messages and graving that and the drink before making your way to the table.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat once you reached said table, "can I seat here or are you waiting for someone?"

“Please.” He murmur in a low voice while gesturing toward the empty chair, indicating that you can sit down and a strange feeling of familiarity floods your body at that gesture. You shock your head trying to ignore that before placing your bag aside and sitting down in front of the man.

“I just wanted to thank you for the—“

The words got stuck on your throat and the world seemed to have stopped when you finally laid your eyes on the suited man that you thought you'd never see again.

Holy shit.

You stood still, a part of you fearing that if you moved he might disappear. Your face probably showing clear signs of confusion and shock as Aaron Hotchner sit right there in front of you.

He still looked serious and intimidating, his gaze reimaging cold to those who didn't know him and you remember all of those times you teased him about being a robot, there were times when you actually managed to make him laugh.

Yet at the same time there was something different about him. There was a different glow around him, he seems more relaxed and you could see it in his expressions, even in his posture.

“Hello, Y/N.” Hotchner said, voice still low but strong enough to bring you back to the present.

“Hey.” You said, still processing the fact that he was here with you and in the most unexpected place. “I, uh, it’s been a long time.”

“Almost 3 years.” He said before taking a sip of the glass that rested on his hand, you assumed that it was scotch.

3 years in 6 months, 13 days, 1 hour and 65 seconds. Give it or take.

“Almost, yeah… so what are you doing here?” You asked, “I mean, you were more a city type of guy.”

“I still am, Y/N, but Jack and Jessica insisted on me going on a little vacation because apparently it’s been a while since I had some ‘me-time’.”

Your face light up a bit at the mention of the kid, Hotch noticed it. “How’s Jack? I can barely remember when the last time I saw him was was but he must be so big now.”

“He’s 14 and almost as tall as me.” A smile appeared on Hotch's face, he didn't used to smile a lot and you thought it was a bit normal considering the work that you two shared, but those times that he did you used to felt butterflies in your stomach. Still do apparently. “What about you? What are you doing here? I mean, you were more a city type of girl.”

You chuckled softly when you heard him repeating your words and you shrugged slightly, “I'm having some vacation time, it's rare to have free time at the BAU, you know? So when you do, you take it without thinking twice.”

“How’s the team doing?”

“Good. We're working on some things, going through a few changes, the usual I guess.” This time it was you who drank, taking a long sip of the margarita that was still in your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you want to hear me talk about it?”

“Of course, unless, do you have somewhere else to be, Y/N?”

“Not anymore. We might need a few more of this though.” You pointed to the drinks on the table and flashing him a smile, catching a glimpse of his before calling the bartender and ordering another round of drinks.

And then you started talking, Hotch listening carefully to every word that came out of your mouth. You started with the cult that kidnapped Spencer and Garcia and then launching into the saga of the Everett Lynch a.k.a "The Chameleon", you mentioned how Emily is now shortlisted to be the next FBI director and how she would name JJ as the next unit chief of BAU unit, but that remains to be seen; you also talked about Garcia leaving the team to work in Silicon Valley and Hotch noticed the sad tone in your voice when you mentioned that but in part he was happy that everyone was moving forward with their lives, making new decisions and following different paths. You continued with Spencer being a consultant and teaching at the same time and finished with Rossi getting married again then talking about retirement but not fully doing it.

“That’s because Rossi’s never going to retired.” You and Hotch said in unison, laughing after noticing that.

“A lot of things had happened then.” He said, not very surprise and titling his head to one side, you nodded mutely. “But you forgot of someone, Y/N.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you. What about you? How are you?” He asked, his tone of voice changing to a concerned one.

“Oh… I, uh, I’m good.” You began but more hesitant this time, “I will never get used to the changes but its part of life so I just have to suck it up and live with it. I don’t have an outer motive yet so I'm not leaving the BAU, that's for sure. I always knew that that's where I belong and I can’t even bring myself to think about other options.”

“You have always been an important asset to the team, Y/N. The BAU is still lucky to have you.” Hotch said, still sounded like the boss but you didn’t comment anything out loud about it. Instead, you smiled kindly at him and both went silent after that, staring at each other every now and then and finishing the rest of your drinks. It was a comfortable and familiar silence, one of the many that you two used to share while working together in the office or in the long nights in the jet after finishing a case.

Your gaze swept over the bar, noticing the few people that was still there and the employees staring to clean up the place. You took at deep breath, pulling out your wallet.

“Well, Hotch, this was fun. Unexpected but fun.” You left some money under your empty cup, paying for your part of the drinks and Hotch did the same thing. “I should get going now, so—“

“Let me walk you over to your hotel.” He cut you off, grabbing his blazer from the chair and turning to look at you.

“Hotch you don’t ha—“

“Please, Y/N. I insist.” He said and his voice serious once again, just like when he used to get too bossy with the team but with a smile that contradicted that tone and you couldn’t say “no” to that.

“Alright, Sir. Let’s go.”

You grabbed your things and started walking out of the bar, Hotchner walking behind you.

▪ ▪ ▪

The walk back to the hotel was shorter than you thought; maybe it was because you were so focused on Hotchner and the small talk that you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You murmur while grabbing the room key from you bag, “But you didn’t have to come up here though.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

You could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't dare to do it and it doesn't feel good to pressure him, so you settled for just smiling at him.

And in that moment, standing in outside of you room and looking closely at him, you realized how much you missed him. You didn’t admitted that out loud after he left the BAU, you couldn’t do it because you also never fully admitted your feeling for him. Partially it was your fault, feelings were never your thing and you were afraid of what might happen if you confronted him about it so looking for excuses and reasons to not doing it always seemed easier.

For a while you truly did believed that it was just a stupid crush on your boss, something temporary, until the days turned into weeks and then months, years even, but then… he was gone.

You couldn’t really blame him for that though; he had a good reason for leaving so suddenly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Hotch finally mumbled.

You looked at him in confusion, “For what?”

“Leaving.”

“You did it to protect Jack; it was the right thing to do.” You reassure him with a smile, you unconsciously took his hand in yours. He didn’t pull away. “Don’t ever apologize for keeping your son safe, Hotch.”

“I know, choosing to be a full time dad to Jack is something I do not regret. It was something that we both needed it, especially after everything that happened with Haley.” You gulped at the mention of the name, remembering how devastated he was after her death. He took a deep breath, “But what I am trying to say is that I am sorry I didn't came back to you or the team, I should at least have called to let you know that we were fine but I got so caught up with the mundane life that it was a little too late by the time I realized about everything I left behind.”

To you.

Those two little words echoed in your head as you look at those chocolate eyes that used to drive you crazy without knowing it. You noticed that he was even closer now, slightly towering over you. It’s now or never, Y/N. You thought to yourself before speaking.

“I waited for you. I never told anyone but for a whole I waited for you to come back, hoping one day to see your demanding self in an expensive suit walking through the BAU doors again but deep down I knew that eventually I had to let you go.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding until now and smiled sadly, “That was easier said than done considering that I never stopped thing about it, about you. Because the true is that I loved you, Aaron. Maybe I still fucking do… but I doubt that this makes any difference now because maybe you never saw me in the same way that I saw you or just because it’s a little too late now.”

You finished and Hotch frowned, probably processing what you just admitted to him. He was silent for a few more seconds and you took it as your cue, letting go of his hand and turning around to open the door of you room. “I had an amazing night, thank you. See you around.”

But before you could even step foot in the room, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist and your chest hitting his. The next thing you knew after that was that his lips were on yours.

Aaron Hotchner was fucking kissing you after admitting your feelings for him.

He pulled away before you could react properly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours; this time he looked at you in a way that you had only fantasized about until now, there was love and lust on them and you could feel it, just all those feelings that you tried so hard to keep locked in the deepest part of you.

And that's all you needed before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, in a matter of seconds you two were inside the room. His lips were warm and the kiss quickly turned into a desperate one once the door was locked behind you, you could already feel yourself melting in his arms.

You didn’t even realize how it happened, but in one quick moment you were being totally pinned against the door with Aaron holding you by your thighs as your legs were wrapped around his waist. The position was now lifting your short dress, leaving your thighs even more naked but you didn't mind considering that now you could perfectly feel Aaron's hand caressing your hot skin. You move your hands from his shoulders to his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt and stripping him off it, dropping the piece of clothing somewhere in the room. As you were doing that, he broke the kiss and moved his lips to your neck, nipping and teasing the area just under your ear, turning you into a moaning mess almost immediately. The sounds being like music to his ears.

“Aaron , please.“ You moaned, this was good but you need it more. You needed him.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He asks, slightly biting the skin of your neck and you bite your bottom lip.

“Please, Sir. Fuck me.” You let out, noticing a sparkle in his eyes that you've never seen before and that only turned you on even more.

“Since you ask so nicely…” He said before walking to the other side of the room where the was a big bed in the center of it, Aaron kissed you lips and put you down in front of him, his hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You asked and Aaron stares deeply at you, the sudden seriousness on his eyes making you gulp. You nodded.

“Words, Y/N. I need words.”

“I’m sure of this, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Fuck, he was hot.

“Yes, sir.”

He bent down, his hands working on your zipper as he whisper “Good girl.” in your ear and you bite your lip once more, muffling down a moan.

He finally pulled down your dress, tossing it onto the floor completely and leaving you with only your red lace underwear; you weren't wearing a bra tonight, so you were much more exposed to him than you thought. He took one really good look at you before throwing you onto the bed, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Guess that we’re done playing around.

He kneels down on the bed, moving your legs with his knees and positioning himself between them. His hands are caressing your legs again, making their way up to the sides of your body and he leans in, kissing you again, your hands flew up to grab his hair, eagerly responding the kiss. You didn’t care how needy you seem right now, you’ve been waiting year for this, fantasizing about it, and now you had it, not really knowing for how long and that only gave you more reasons to enjoy every second of it.

“You know?,” Aaron began, his lips leaving yours and making his way down your neck, placing kisses all over your skin, “if I had know about how much you wanted me, I’ve would done something about it earlier.”

“Yeah?” You asked, arching your back as he bites one of your nipples gently, his other hand working on the other one.

“I would've pinned you down on my desk and take you right there on the office, baby. Not caring about anyone who could hear us.” He casually said, like he thought about it before and you moaned. You definitely thought about that particular situation too.

When he finally reached the place where you needed the most, he stopped and you were about to complain but Aaron shut you up by grabbing your ankles and yanking you down the end of the bed. He kneels again, parting your legs a bit more, placing one of your legs over his broad shoulders and kissing you inner thighs, slowly making his way to your soaked panties.

“I barely touch you and you’re so wet for me already?” Hotchner asked teasingly, rubbing circles with his thumb on your clit but over the fabric before taking a hold of them and ripping them out. And with no more words, Hotch held both your legs open and buried his face between them, making you moan in a matter of seconds.

He swept his tongue over you pussy swiftly, tasting my arousal first and groaning again your skin. A shiver ran through you as he stared circling your clit with his tongue and then moving down between your folds before going up again, alternating his speed and pressure.

When you thought that it couldn’t get better, Aaron proved you wrong by teasing your entrance with one of his finger and looking up at you, locking his eyes with yours. He wanted to see your reaction. You try to maintain the eye contact as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of you, curling them an hitting the right spot, a string of cursings leaving your mouth.

It didn’t take much for your legs to start shaking around his head, the knot forming on your lower stomach.

“I’m- fuck, I’m close.” You breathed betweens moans and just when you were about to reach your high, he pulled away.

“Hold that thought, sweetheart.” He shortly kissed your mouth and you tasted yourself in his before he got up off bed, his hands immediately went to unbuckle his belt and now you took your time to watch him. From his messy hair, to the red marks on his shoulders caused by your heels -oops- and then stopped at the large bulge formed in his pants, you groaned at the sight of that.

Fuck, he is big. God, if you weren't so desperate to feel him inside you, you wouldn't hesitate to drop on your knees and start sucking him.

“Do you like what you see, sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk on his face while taking off the rest of his clothes.

“Just fuck me already, please.” You begged and he positioned himself between your legs again, but he was hesitant. “Hotch?”

“I don’t have condom on me and I doubt that you have one, Y/N. I’m clean but if you—”

“I’m clean too and on the pill so don’t worry.” You smiled at him and gave a little nod.

And apparently he was as desperate as you because at all at once, Hotch took grip of your hips and pushed inside you. You immediately arched your back, moaning loudly in both pain and pleasure, your hands grabbing the sheets at your side. You were surprise that you didn’t ripped them apart yet.

“Fuck, Hotchner.” You screamed and he didn’t move for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his size. He really is big.

“You’re so thigh, baby.” He moaned in your ear, the raspy voice sending shocks straight to your core. He was capable of making you cum by just talking.

That’s how much power he had.

And then he finally started moving, pounding in and out of you slowly at first and working his way up, picking up a pace that had you both groaning and moaning.

“F-fuck, Y/N. I love hearing you scream my name.” His lips attacked your neck again and you threw your head back against the pillows, giving him all the space that he needed to play with your neck. And he took this as a perfect opportunity to sneak his hand around it, squeezing under your jaw around enough for your eyes to roll back in total pleasure as you instinctively wrapped your finger around his wrist, holding him in place. You didn’t expect him to be into chocking but you were definitely not against it.

“Harder, S-sir. Please.”

“You’re taking it so good, just like I expected it.” He growled, pulling away enough to look at the whimpering mess that you were right now, his hand never leaving your neck as he pounded even harder into you with every word. “Calling me ‘sir’ and everything, I didn’t even had to ask you to do that. You’re such a slutty responsive whore for me, aren’t you Y/N?”

The sudden dirty words coming out of your ex-boss’s mouth did nothing but to turn you on even more, if that was possible at this point. You weren’t able to form a proper sentence so you limited to nodding and moaning his name. He didn’t like that.

“I asked you a fucking question, sweetheart, answered it.”

“Y-yes, I am, S-sir.” You chocked, the knot on your stomach forming once more and by the way that his pace flickered you knew that he was close too. “I’m close, Aaron.”

“Then cum for me, baby.” He commanded, continuing his thrusts and you were already oversensitive from his earlier work so it didn’t took you long before you started clenching around him.

“Fuck, Aaron.”

“Say it louder, Y/N.”

“Aaron!” He bottom out inside of you again and you moaned loudly one last time as your body reached its limit, hitting your climax with every nerve in you tired body.

“That’s a good girl.” He said between moans, his dick twitching softly as he release himself inside of you with one last and hard thrust.

He let go of your throat but didn’t’ pull out immediately after that. His breathing was a little erratic, his lips were red and swollen, and there was a thin layer of sweat all over his body. He looked disturbingly hot.

Of course he did. He’s Aaron fucking Hotchner.

It was as if these last 3 years had never existed.

Neither of you said a word as he slowly got up and walked into the bathroom of the room to grabbed a wet towel to clean you up, doing the same thing on him before putting back his boxers, you didn’t have the strength to grab your clothes so you just put the sheets of the bed on top of you, covering you nudity.

“Oh, sp now you’re shy?” He snorted, chuckling softly and you smiled.

“Shut up and come here.” You patted the bed and he didn’t hesitate on laying next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You felt safe, like there’s was nowhere else you rather be in that moment.

“Thank you.” He whispered after a moment breaking the silence, his face resting on your shoulder.

“For what?”

“For all of… that.”

“You’ve always have such a ways with words, Hotch.” You chuckled as you looked down at him. “Thank you for ordering my margarita in the first place.”

“It was a pleasure.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a playful way.

“How long are you staying here, Y/N?” He finally asked and you let out a tiny sigh at the question.

You knew you weren't here for a long vacation and neither was Aaron, you two have your lives outside this room , but being here now felt so good and peaceful. So… right. This, also, was probably a one-time thing, something that was destined to happen eventually, no matter how long it took.

But you didn’t want- no, you couldn’t face the fact that you may have to let him go again. Especially not after what just happened. I mean, how could you?

And little did you know that Aaron was feeling the exact same thing.

“Enough not to have to worry about it right now.” You answered with a shrug while your fingertips trace invisible circles on his back.

“Good. I can live with that, for now at least.” And then he broke the comfortable embrace by getting up and out of the bed, you furrowed you eyebrows and he extended on his hands towards you, “Come on, let’s take a shower so we can sleep properly.”

“Yes, sir.” You took his hand, getting up with his help and trying your best not to limp as you made your way to the bathroom, “By the way, where are you staying while you’re here?”

He turned around at the question, pulling you closer to him and softly kissing your lips before using a more serious tone to say, “In the room above this one.”

Of course he was. You thought while you watched as he began to prepare the bath for the both of you.

Funny how destiny works sometimes.

#cm #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x y/n #hotchner imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #sorry if this is a bit out of character #i try my best #thanks for reading

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Ties That Bind, Debts That Burden | Curtis Everett x reader

for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817‘s august challenge! my prompt was the gif!

summary: you didn’t expect the man who bought you to be so kind. you didn’t expect to fall for him, either.

warnings: death of a parent character, kidnapping, implied noncon/mentions of noncon, sexism, sexual slavery (mentioned), dub con (but not in the way you’re expecting), implied age gap (everyone is over 18!! as always!!), semi-public sex, breeding kink, loss of virginity, pain kink (slightly)

word count: a bit over 4k (and I wrote it all in one day... hey that rhymes!)

[this is another one of those things where the fic itself is dark due to the subject matter, but the character in question is not ‘dark’ in the traditional sense. so, curtis is a good dude, it’s everyone else that sucks; this is a dark fic tonally, but not sexually per se]

Life in the tail section was ruthless. It was all about survival, and survival was about being stronger than others. You weren’t strong. What you did have was your father, and he had kept you safe all your life, even before the two of you had lived in this terrible place. He was a sort of leader; people looked up to him, and as a result, they obeyed his wishes to stay away from you. Even so, you could sense that a lot of the men in the train were just waiting for their chance to take you. Women who didn’t have significant skills to offer, women like you, were seen as a commodity with only one purpose. Less like wives and more like slaves, they were traded, sold, and bartered for like clothes or rations. It made you feel sick, but most of all it made you terrified for what would happen when your father couldn’t protect you anymore. He was strong, but old, and so tired. You hated to see how hard he had to work so late into his life, just so that you wouldn’t have to suffer.

When he died, it almost didn’t feel real. Even though it was sort of expected with the way his health had been declining for months, it was nothing you ever could’ve imagined. A world without your father meant a world you were truly alone in… and only now did you confront the real cruelty of life in the tail section.

You woke up to being dragged by your hair; you screamed and kicked, but there was little you could do as you were thrown down onto the floor. Your worthless fighting was muted as rags were used to bind your wrists and ankles, and a gag silenced you. You looked up to see you were surrounded by men, with one-- you were pretty sure his name was Jamie, you’d seen him around before-- standing up and hovering over you.

“Her father is finally dead!” he announced to the crowd with a dirty smile that was missing a few teeth. “I got my hands on her first, but I’m willing to sell her to any reasonable bidders.”

“Five rations,” one voice quickly jutted in.

“Five-- what the fuck are you talking about, man? Everyone’s been drooling over this little tart for years and you offer me five rations?! Get a grip,” Jamie spat.

“Twenty,” another called out.

“Getting warmer,” Jamie laughed. “Come on, boys, she’s never known a man before. This is truly a priceless opportunity.”

“Thirty!”

“Thirty-three!”

“Best I can do is thirty-five.”

“This is preposterous,” Jamie scoffed. “She’s a virgin, and look how cute she is when she cries! If nobody’s gonna make me a suitable offer,” he growled, suddenly grabbing you by your neck and putting his face right against yours, “maybe I’ll keep you for myself, hm?”

You sobbed and tried to squirm away but it was beyond useless, your bound limbs overpowered easily as he held you down and licked a stripe up the side of your face, just to hear you scream behind your gag.

“I’ll take her,” a deep voice boomed suddenly. “A hundred rations.”

“A-- what?” Jamie stammered.

You tried to look around at who it was but you couldn’t see very well in the dark.

“It’s more than enough,” the man continued. “Hand her over.”

“Curtis,” Jamie greeted awkwardly, and your eyes went wide with recognition, “I… didn’t take you for the bartering type.”

That was an understatement. You knew Curtis, like some of the more chivalrous men of the back car, was a long-standing boycotter of this sort of activity. He didn’t even seem interested in the women who wanted to sleep with him, let alone those who were being sold against their will. Seemed like his patience had worn out, and he was finally giving in to his biological needs, no matter who would suffer cruelty along the way. Just your luck that it would be you for sale when he gave up on his morals.

“I didn’t take you for the type to stall when he’s offered a great deal,” Curtis replied coldly. “Now give me the girl and take your payment.”

Something must have changed hands, but you were too busy staring at the corrugated steel floor and hoping it was all a dream that would end any moment.

You lurched back as Jamie picked you up again, tossing you to Curtis who caught you awkwardly.

“Have fun with her,” Jamie encouraged, “make sure it’s loud enough so we can all hear; a little consolation prize for the rest of us.”

Curtis said nothing as he turned and dragged you to his bunk, ignoring your muffled pleas. When he set you down, he kneeled beside you and put a hand on each shoulder to brace you.

“I’m going to take off this gag, and your ties,” he offered, “but you need to stop crying, okay? Everything will be alright. I won’t hurt you.”

You weren’t sure you believed that, but you tried to steady your breathing. Maybe if you did what he said, he would be gentle with you…

You nodded slowly, and he untied the gag. Your sore mouth appreciated the reprieve as you wiggled your mouth around to stretch your lips. You had sort of assumed that whoever bought you would leave the restraints on, so that you wouldn’t fight back. But Curtis was so strong and healthy, he didn’t even need to bind you: your body tensed up again at that realization.

“Shh, shh, calm down,” he requested as he worked on the knot around your feet, “you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

Finally your limbs were freed, though that freedom was wasted on exhaustedly falling to the cold steel floor.

“Use this rag to clean off a little,” he instructed, handing you a cloth that had been soaked in water, “and go back to sleep for the night.”

“You… you’re not going to…?” you murmured, confused.

“I don’t believe in enslavement,” he shook his head. “Your father was a good man; he did a lot for me, even when I had nothing to offer him in return. He told me to pay him back by keeping you safe after he was gone.”

You hadn’t realized your father knew Curtis so well. You’d seen him around, sure, but he was more a stranger than anything.

“Thank you…” you whispered, your voice hoarse and ragged.

“You need to rest,” he whispered back. “You can sleep in my bed-- someone’s already claimed yours, I’m sure. I’ll be on the floor beside you if you need me.”

Your cheeks burned with guilt. “Curtis, don’t do that. You spent so much on me... I don’t want to be any more of a burden.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” he soothed, “we can talk in the morning. Get your sleep.”

After washing yourself hastily with the rag (focusing most on wherever Jamie had touched you), you slipped into the sheets on his mattress, finding him different from the ones you were used to, but comfortable in spite of the unfamiliarity.

Curtis settled in on the floor, and in the near-darkness you could just make out the silhouette of his face as he closed his eyes and relaxed against a roll of tattered clothes as an improvised pillow. You’d always thought he was handsome, and the impression you’d gotten was that he was patient, and honorable, but kept to himself. You could remember just a few nights ago when you never could’ve imagined this being your new life. Although you did wonder if Curtis was simply waiting for the morning to claim you, in the meantime you decided to take him at his word and just be thankful that someone seemingly kind had bought you instead of Jamie or his fellow bidders.

Two weeks later...

If anything, it was odd how little Curtis had asked of you. He didn’t even really talk to you. Even your father expected you to help him with anything you could; sometimes it was just keeping him company, listening to him. But Curtis all but avoided you. All that said, his presence was rarely needed to keep you safe. People respected your father, but they feared Curtis. He wasn’t violent-- well, he wasn’t violent typically. Nearly a week ago he had gone to fisticuffs for you after a man had tried to grope you. The weird thing was that you hadn’t even realized Curtis was nearby: one moment you were alone and being pulled into a stranger’s oppressive form as he purred in your ear, the next Curtis had appeared and shoved him off of you. That seemed to get the point across that Curtis’ things were not to be touched.

Feeling guilty, you decided to do whatever chores you could think of while he was away from his ‘room’ (which was, of course, not a room at all but a bed draped with a canopy of tattered fabric in order to create some privacy). You waited for his return with a little smile on your face, sure he would be grateful for your service and maybe would start to warm up to you more.

“Hi, Curtis,” you greeted with a peppy grin when you saw him approaching, jumping up from where you had been sitting.

“You washed my clothes,” he noticed instantly.

Your smile fell when you realized that he wasn’t happy. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked sheepishly.

“You are not my slave; I cannot make that more clear,” he frowned. “Never do a chore on my behalf again.”

“Please, Curtis. You’ve done so much for me, just let me prove my usefulness.”

“You want to be useful? Stay out of harm’s way.”

“Oh, I see,” you sneered, “you don’t want me to do your chores because I am your chore. Is that all you see me as? A debt you are repaying to my father?”

He seemed confused by that question. “What else could I see you as?”

“A partner!” you protested. “A woman!”

He grabbed you suddenly, pulling you into him by your wrists. “Stop talking like that. I won’t hear any more of it. Just stay quiet and take care of yourself.”

He dropped you as you began to cry, crumpling into a ball on the floor.

“Don’t cry,” he frowned. “Why could you be crying, when all I told you was that you don’t have to do anything?”

“I suppose I should be thankful that you’re not sadistic,” you explained with a shaky, weak voice, “but you’re still plenty cruel to me, I hope you know that. You ignore me completely-- and no one else will talk to me, because they’re afraid to upset you. I’ve never been so alone.”

He sighed and sat down beside you on the floor. “I never meant to…” he trailed off. “I bought you to save you from them. Not because I had any purpose for you.”

“I have no purpose,” you stated plainly, moving from sad to stoic. “Don’t you hear how sad that sounds? Can you blame me for being upset when you’re telling me straight to my face that I’m useless?”

He seemed to at least see where you were coming from with that, looking to the side with an oddly guilty look in his eyes.

Suddenly, he reached to pull up his shirt and you gasped when you saw a cut along his side.

“I fell,” he explained, “and scraped against something.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you comforted to the best of your ability, “I hope it’s not giving you too much trouble.”

“It’s not, but I’m worried it’ll get infected.”

You thought for a moment. “I could… help you clean it?”

“Sure,” he nodded, “that would be nice. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” you shrugged as you grabbed a rag to dampen. “I’ll be right back.”

You cleaned his wound in silence, carefully washing away the dried blood, even when he sucked in breaths through his teeth as you touched the sensitive places. The task at hand distracted you from your previous outburst; this was exactly proof of why you needed things to do, you’d go crazy otherwise.

“I don’t think it’ll need stitches,” you informed him as you put the rag away and rolled his shirt back down. “We’ll just clean it again tomorrow and I bet that’ll be enough.”

“Good,” he nodded.

The day was winding down to a close already, and you looked around to see a lot of the people nearby starting to prepare for bed, if they weren’t already on their mattresses with their eyes and ears covered to block out the distractions of those still awake.

“I think you should take the bed tonight, since you’re injured,” you offered. Up until now, you’d been alternating nights on the floor; it was the only compromise you two could come to.

“I couldn’t ask you to sleep on the ground two nights in a row,” he shook his head.

“You’re not asking me to. I’m telling you that I will.”

“I won’t take the bed.”

You crossed your arms and grinned stubbornly. “Then we’ll both be on the floor.”

“Fine,” he sighed with defeat, “I’ll take the bed, but only if you share it with me. I can never sleep well when all I can think about is how cold and uncomfortable you must be.”

You were surprised to hear that, because you had always felt the same way on the nights you were in the bed. Seemed both of you were getting worse sleep than you let on.

“F-fine,” you stammered, realizing how little space the two of you would have to work with on the mattress, “we’ll share it then.”

“Might help with the cold anyway,” he shrugged as he stood up, removing his outermost layer of clothes before slipping behind the curtain that surrounded the bed. You swallowed, as if you hadn’t realized until now that you were going to be in bed with him so soon.

You removed your jacket as well; even though you normally liked to sleep in something less bulky than the dress you were wearing now, you figured he would protest if you were in any state of undress while sharing a bed with him.

As you pulled the curtain aside, you found him already on the farther side of the bed, facing away from you. He was so far off the edge that he surely would’ve fallen if there wasn’t a wall on the other side.

“Curtis, you’re twice my size and you’ve left nearly two-thirds of the bed for me,” you chuckled, slipping into the covers with him and noticing how much space was still left between you. “Relax, won’t you?”

“Alright,” he relented, laying back a little as his shoulder brushed against yours.

“Goodnight, Curtis,” you mumbled as you settled in and got as comfortable as could be reasonably expected, letting your eyes fall shut. Sure, it took awhile, but with a forced relaxation you were able to drift to sleep and stay that way for quite some time.

At some point, you awoke to the softest noise beside you. At first you thought it was just your dream, but then you heard it again-- Curtis was breathing strangely, and you jumped up when you heard a strained noise of pain.

“Curtis!” you hissed into the dark. “Are you hurt? Is everything alright?”

“What?” he stammered, jolting away from you.

“You were--” you started to explain, but then you realized he was palming at his trousers; specifically, he was stuffing his cock back into them. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I didn’t-- sometimes you just-- I never meant to--”

“Are you feeling… frustrated?” you asked him softly, moving a little closer to where he was pressing himself back against the wall.

“It’s fine,” he assured you, “I’m fine.”

“Let me help you,” you pleaded. “I wanted to help you so much, but there was nothing I could do. Let me do this, please. I want you to feel good…”

“Your father, I promised him--” he began, but you interrupted.

“Don’t talk about my father,” you requested. “You kept your promise. I’m safe. Let me thank you for all you’ve done.”

Your hand reached out and made contact with his heaving chest through the thin layer of his shirt, beginning to trail down over his stomach and finally to the hard outline inside his trousers.

“W-wait,” he stuttered quietly, even though you felt him quietly sigh with relief as you palmed at his erection.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” you whispered-- so quiet even you could barely hear it-- as you leaned in and your nose brushed against his cheek. “I wanted you for so long, Curtis, did you not know? Wanted to touch you… wanted to make love with you…”

He let out a long-held breath as you reached into his trousers and wrapped your arm around his length. It was so hot in your palm; it warmed you in the most intoxicating way.

“R-really?” he murmured.

“Of course I did,” you answered, moving your hand and slowly stroking him. God, the poor man must’ve been so pent-up: he was bucking into your touch already, his cock so hard that you wondered if it was hurting him. “Every woman on the train lusts for you. To have you so close and not be able to do anything about it, it was torture.”

“Nothing compared to what it was like,” he groaned softly, “to want to have you for so long and feel horrible for it.”

You began to pump his cock faster, seeking more of those beautiful noises he was making. The way his length flexed against your palm made arousal tingle all throughout your body.

His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingertips brushing up against your hairline and making you shiver. He whispered your name and you felt like putty in his hands, so distracted by your own need that the pace of your strokes faltered briefly.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments longer-- foreheads pressed together, shivering and shaking and panting in each other’s arms-- before a rush of adrenaline gave you the confidence to speak.

“I want it inside me,” you whispered against his ear. “Please, Curtis, I want you inside me.”

You swung your leg over to straddle him, pushing yourself up off of his chest. He whispered your name with shock as you lifted your tattered dress and pulled it over your shoulders.

“Touch me,” you begged. “Didn’t you want to? I wondered if you did. I wondered how your hands would feel…” you trailed off as you grabbed his wrists and guided his hands to your waist. They were strong and rough, and so hot against your skin that you thought you might just burn up right there. He moved them on his own then, sliding them up to your breasts which he gently grasped. You sighed a little and melted into his touch.

His thumbs teased your nipples, which were already hard and alert. You tried your best to suppress your moans, aware that many other passengers were sleeping nearby. Secretly, the idea that they would hear Curtis pleasuring you was almost titillating. You hoped it would make them all jealous.

“You’re so soft,” he whispered, “and… smooth…”

“Did you long for me?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Yes,” he finally admitted, “yes, I wanted you. I want you now.”

You reached down and grasped his cock again, guiding it to your wet, swollen opening. He made a noise that sounded something like a whimper and a groan as the head of his cock moved through your folds.

As you sunk down, you tried to ignore the burn of his cock stretching you open, though a pained whimper escaped your lips.

Curtis’ hands gripped your hips tight enough to bruise as you slowly took more and more of him into you. His head fell back with a groan, lost in the way your walls gripped him tighter than he thought possible. In that moment, he wanted more than anything to hold you close and never let go.

You shivered as your hips met his, feeling full in a way you could’ve never imagined. It still stung as he forged a new path inside you, moulded you to his shape, but you didn’t mind because it was him.

You were so weak that you struggled to lift yourself on top of him, but he gently guided you to lessen your load. Your body adjusted to him rather slowly, and every time you rocked your hips made you hiss with discomfort along with the sparks of pleasure burning through your gut. Even when it hurt, you wanted more; if nothing else, the noises of his restrained ecstasy spurred you on.

Leaning down, you laid yourself on his chest so that you could hear him better, and him you. His arms wrapped around you and you felt small; normally, feeling small meant feeling weak, vulnerable, scared… but in his arms, it was wonderful. You felt vulnerable, yes, but protected.

Your name tumbled from his lips like a whispered chant as you moved on top of him, and you whispered his name back. The way his cock rubbed against your insides felt so good that you couldn’t even remember that it hurt before, but then again, you couldn’t remember anything from before right now and you didn’t want to.

Your moans got louder and louder, though they were still relatively quiet, but either way they were like music to his ears, sweet and soft and all for him-- just like you.

“S-stop,” he groaned, “you have to stop.”

“Why?” you gasped, feeling a little guilty for not instantly obeying, and yet too lost in pleasure to stop moving your hips.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll come,” he explained breathlessly, “and you could get pregnant.”

You bit your lip, feeling your face warm with an emotion you were sure you hadn’t experienced before. “What if that’s what I want?”

“Fuck,” he sighed.

“What if I want you to come inside me? What if I want to have your baby?” you continued.

You managed to suppress your yelp as he grabbed you and flipped you both over until you were on your back and he was hovering over you.

“Is that what you want?” he asked with a low growl.

“Yes,” you gasped, “Curtis, it’s all I ever wanted.”

“Fuck,” he moaned, pulling back and thrusting into you again. He lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders, nearly folding you in half as he fucked into you so deep that you could scream. You didn’t, but you wanted to. “Gonna fill you up so good… you’re gonna be so full,” he promised, “you’re gonna be mine.”

“I already am,” you promised, “I always was.”

He leaned down to dominate your lips with a searing kiss, fucking you deep and slow but with an increasing ferocity. Each thrust was harder than the last until the most prominent sound was the slapping of skin, your arousal so prominent that it was beginning to leak and drip down your thighs and ass.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, right against your ear.

“You,” you moaned, “I belong to you, Curtis.”

“Fuck yeah you do.”

You gripped his arms tight as you felt your walls spasming with your orgasm-- it was unlike anything you’d felt before, even though you’d touched yourself plenty of times up until now. Already you knew you were going to be addicted to this feeling. Poor Curtis; you were going to be begging him to fuck you day and night if this was how good it felt.

The tightening of your body around him, and the way you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming with pleasure… it was all too much for him to hold back any more, and with a stuttered groan he spilled himself into you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. He relaxed on top of you as he reciprocated, both of you basking in the glow of the moment.

“Don’t pull out yet,” you pleaded as the kiss ended, “just hold me a little longer, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he smiled softly, placing one small, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Did you really want me for so long, like you said?” you pressed, remembering what he’d said and fearing it was just a sweet nothing in the heat of the moment.

“You have no idea how long,” he sighed. “I dreamed of this; of you being mine.”

“Was it everything you imagined?”

“And more,” he assured with a soft laugh. “Best hundred rations I ever spent.”

#how did this turn out so fluffy??? lmao #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #ehhh that's enough tags right?#shamelesshoesforchris

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

An Art of Balance #34

Orion Amari x MC

A/N: The penultimate chapter everyone, can you believe it? How far we’ve come together. Just as a little heads up, I will be uploading the last chapter of this story (🥺) in one go with the epilogue. So if you happen to see the epilogue first, know there is a ‘little’ (totally not little) chapter still waiting for you.

Thank you to everyone who let me borrow their OCs, I did a little round up of everyone in this chapter. Lizzie’s wonderful friends are belonging to:

Katriona ,KC’ Cassiopeia: @kc-needs-coffee

Judith Harris: @judediangelo75

Ira Janda, Julian Bennett: @slytherindisaster

Azariah Steele: @cursebreakerfarrier

Henry McClarnon: @thatravenpuffwitch

Also massive thanks to my favourite girl @the-al-chemist for helping with the structure and reading over. You know I love you 💛

Word Count: ~ 5.600

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Chapter 34: Victory

“Hufflepuff is this year’s reigning Quidditch champion!”

Murphy hadn’t even finished shouting into his megaphone when Skye, Lizzie and everyone around them erupted into screams of joy. Skye flung her arms around Lizzie’s neck, hugging her mid-air, half sobbing, half shouting “We did it! We did it!” into her ear over and over again. Lizzie didn’t even have any words to articulate the rush of emotions running through her all at once. She felt euphoric, happy, exhausted and unbelievably relieved that her plan hadn’t backfired on them. Syke was right, they had really done it.

They had won the House Cup.

Still hugging and jumping up and down on their brooms, Lizzie and Skye were slowly drifting downwards, landing roughly on the soft grass. The impact almost knocked them over but they couldn’t care less. They were basking in the cheers coming from the hollering stands, their grins so wide their cheeks were hurting.

Lizzie could see Skye’s father and Professor Sprout giving them standing ovations and even Professor McGonagall was clapping, albeit not as enthusiastically as the rest. Murphy was beaming from ear to ear, remaining silent for once and letting the team have the full attention of the crowd.

One after the other their teammates were landing next to them. Lizzie found herself hugging Judith and even Everett in her enthusiasm; all of their animosities were forgotten over the raw joy of achieving their incredible last minute win. In this moment what had happened wasn’t important anymore; the only thing that counted was that they had reached their common goal and the Cup was theirs.

And then, all of a sudden, Orion was there, his eyes shining with pride and a beaming smile on his face. He swept her into an embrace and spun her around, neither one of them caring the slightest bit what anyone else might be thinking. Lizzie was laughing as she held onto him, feeling nothing but elation; she couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment.

Orion sat her down and Lizzie was swaying for a moment, feeling slightly dizzy from being spun around, too much sunlight and the feeling of Orion’s arms around her. Still smiling, he raised his hand to her face and cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her flushed skin. The expression in his eyes was so soft as they found hers, the butterflies exploding in Lizzie’s stomach seemed to fill her up completely; the fluttery feeling combined with the adrenaline rushing through her body made her feel as if she was still flying.

He opened his mouth to say something when a sudden movement to their side made both of them turn their heads; Judith and Skye had sneaked up on them and were on the verge of upending a giant barrel of butterbeer over their heads. Lizzie tried to move out of its way immediately, but Orion quickly got hold of her wrist and pulled her back.

“You’re staying right where you are,” he laughed before the ice cold liquid was hitting them. Lizzie shrieked and closed her eyes as the butterbeer washed over her face and found its way down the back of her jersey. She buried her face against Orion’s now soaked Quidditch robes and could feel the vibration in his chest as he laughed. She couldn’t help her smile widening as he held her even closer.

“I knew you could do it, Chaser,” he whispered against her hair.

Lizzie pulled away and smiled up at him; a light giggle escaped her as she was taking in their drenched state. “We did it all together.”

Orion gently brushed a strand of wet hair out of her face. “As a team.”

She covered his hand resting on her cheek with hers, her eyes finding his again. His long, dark hair was just as soaked as hers was, but he obviously couldn’t care less. Lizzie’s eyes flickered down to his lips for a moment; the soft smirk forming on them made her hold her breath. Her wish to kiss him right here and now was close to overwhelming.

But before she could give in to it, her gaze flicked over Orion’s shoulder to where she could see the members of the defeated Gryffindor team lying in the grass. The misery they were radiating was a stark contrast to their own overjoyed celebration.

She could see Julian comforting a broken looking Henry; Azariah was lying on his back, staring into the sky with a blank expression and the two Chasers were silently talking between themselves, shaking their heads in disbelief.

Charlie was sitting apart from them; his head was hanging low, his windswept red hair obscuring most of his face. The rest was hidden his hand covering his eyes, while the other was still clutching the Golden Snitch, that was gleaming in the sunlight.

The sight of her friend's devastation felt like a jab to Lizzie’s heart. Her face twisting with sympathy, she placed a hand on Orion’s chest and gently pushed him away. He followed her gaze with a slight frown, before he nodded in comprehension.

He inclined his head in Charlie’s direction. “Go to him; he is in need of a friend right now.”

Lizzie knew she should go and it wasn’t like she didn’t want to; she just didn’t want to let go of Orion again so soon. Sensing her hesitation, he gently nudged her forward.

“Go,” he repeated. “We’ll have our moment later.”

Finally breaking free of him, Lizzie walked past her teammates and towards the Gryffindors. She stopped by every one of them for a moment, either trying to cheer them up or offer some words of comfort. When she reached the lone figure of her best friend, she stopped and knelt down beside him.

“Hey.”

At the sound of her voice, Charlie raised his bleak eyes to look at her for a moment. “Congratulations, I guess,” he managed to croak out before hanging his head again.

“Thank you,” Lizzie answered sincerely. She put a hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently. “You put up an incredible fight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before.”

Charlie shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Didn’t help much, did it? You won, we lost; there’s no way of talking around it.”

“It could have gone down either way; it was a matter of seconds.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I can’t believe I caught the Snitch only one bloody moment too late.” He choked out a bitter laugh and held the golden ball up for her to see.

“Looks like it’s me who gets the consolation prize in the end.”

He looked past her to her laughing teammates. “What are you doing over here anyway, champ? Don’t tell me you’re ditching your team for us moping lot?”

Lizzie sat down next to him onto the grass and nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m ditching my team for a friend who could use a bit of comfort right now,” she responded with a smile.

Charlie’s eyes trailed from her towards the Hufflepuffs again, who were busy hoisting a laughing Orion up on their shoulders.

“Even him?”

She had followed his gaze and nodded. “Even him.”

Charlie huffed but gave her a small grin, nonetheless. “That means a lot, Liz, thank you. But you deserved to win this time; you more than anyone.”

Lost in thought, Lizzie had been watching Orion celebrating with their friends. It was only now that she saw Charlie had been watching her in turn. Not sure if he was still talking about the match, Lizzie blushed a deep scarlet that almost matched Charlie’s robes; her flustered state made him grin mischievously.

“You’d better watch out though, pineapple,” he teased her, “there’s always next season. I’ll be damned if I let you defend that title; we’ll make sure the Cup gets back to where it belongs.”

Happy to see Charlie’s fighting spirit return, Lizzie dipped her head back and laughed. “Not if I can help it, Weasley!”

She scrambled to her feet and offered Charlie her hand. “Do I see you at the party later?”

It was a tradition to celebrate the closing of the Quidditch season with a big outdoor event down by the Black Lake. Generally considered one of the highlights of the years, it wasn’t only for the members of the winning House but for everyone in the school. As it was the last chance to have a bit of fun before the stress of their exams would take up all of their focus, most of the students had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Charlie, however, didn’t seem too thrilled at the prospect. He looked Lizzie up and down with a sigh.

“Would you accept a ‘no’ for an answer?”

“No,” Lizzie chuckled.

“Then I don’t think I have a choice, really,” Charlie smirked before wrapping his arm around her shoulder to march her back to her team. “I’ve got to celebrate my favourite badger girl, after all.”

Lizzie was probably one of the last ones left in the castle when she was finally able to make her way down to the lake. The sunlight had turned from bright to golden and was painting the landscape around her in an alternating pattern of light and shadow.

After the potion Ira had given her had worn off, the bone crushing hug from a sobbing Penny had made the pain of her injury flare up again with full force. When her knees had buckled from the sharp sting, Orion and Ira had been adamant she’d go to the Hospital Wing at once; her ribs had hurt too badly for Lizzie to even consider objecting.

Madam Pomfrey had been miffed when she had checked her up, muttering something about “This bloody Quidditch business” under her breath. To Lizzie’s relief, Ira’s initial assessment had been right and her ribs weren’t broken after all.

“I’d much rather you’d have come straight to me, Miss Jameson,” Madam Pomfrey had declared sternly. “Teenagers,” she had sighed,” always think they know better.”

She had been watching Lizzie reproachfully while preparing the ingredients for another painkiller potion, which was supposed to get her through the night.

Before she had left, Lizzie had made sure to check up on Brian; as it turned out, he wasn’t allowed to leave the Hospital Wing due to a mild concussion. He was miserable about not being able to celebrate with the rest of them, but otherwise he seemed to be alright.

“Kiss the Cup for me, will you?” he had asked her with a laugh as she had been about to leave.

Lizzie’s answer had been cut short by the scolding look of Madam Pomfrey, who had appeared by Brian’s bedside. “I thought there was an event you were desperate to attend, Miss Jameson,” she had chided her, albeit with the hint of a smile. “If you don’t want to spend the night here alongside your friend, you had better leave now before I change my mind.”

As she was walking along the path that would lead her to the Black Lake, Lizzie was enjoying having a little time on her own. It was a welcome change to the busy moments after the match, when her housemates had flooded the pitch and congratulations had been passed all around. It gave her the opportunity to let everything sink in.

They had won; they had really, actually done it.

Her team had come out on top; even after all the mess that had been going down this year, they had managed to get a grip and pull each other through. Lizzie felt overwhelmingly happy; never before had she been so proud of her team, of Skye, of Orion, even of herself.

She remembered the feeling of weightlessness when Orion had picked her up and spun her around; neither of them had cared about anyone else in that moment and it had felt so right; today, everything was feeling right.

Lizzie smiled to herself as she reached the shoreline, an unmistakable bounce in her steps. Whatever the evening might be bringing, she was looking forward to it; she had earned the right to just enjoy herself for a change.

When Lizzie heard two voices calling her name, she slowed her steps and turned around. It was Andre and Charlie, undoubtedly headed into the same direction as her. Tapping her foot in mock impatience, she waited for them to catch up.

Andre smiled brightly when they reached her. “Look who it is, Charlie.”

“The reigning Quidditch champion,” Charlie continued, now in a decidedly better mood after he’d had time to stomach the match. “May we escort you to your victory party?”

Both boys went up to either side of Lizzie and linked arms with her as they marched her along. She had to giggle at their overly solemn expressions.

“You may,” she laughed. “But why are you so late?”

Charlie rolled his eyes and jerked his head in Andre’s direction. “Someone needed to get dressed properly.”

It was only now that Lizzie noticed the giant badger on Andre’s blue shirt he was wearing under his jacket. She raised her eyebrows in astonishment and chuckled.

“That’s a really nice gesture, Andre, but that’s not quite the right colour.”

Andre merely shrugged, however. “I’ve got to uphold some housepride at least or else Erika might kill me.” He glanced down at his newest design. “That one’s risky enough as it is.”

As expected, the party was already in full swing when they arrived. Several stalls had been set up at the shore of the Black Lake and the houselves had given it their all to provide them with delicious food and drinks. They were all centred around a giant bonfire that was blazing brightly in the slowly descending darkness of the evening.

The stalls were decorated in yellow and black banners, as were the comfortable looking seats that had been grouped together all over the place. The image of the Hufflepuff badger was a common sight wherever Lizzie was looking. To add to the atmosphere, numerous strings of fairy lights had been put up in between the branches and down the stems of the trees.

The place was packed with laughing and chatting students; Charlie and Andre went to get something to drink and Lizzie found herself wandering around the site, looking for any sign of her friends.

She spotted the familiar strawberry blond head of KC over to the side of the bonfire. She was sitting in one of the cushioned garden chairs with a bottle of butterbeer in her hand. Her head was dipped back in laughter at something Rath had just said; knowing the tall blonde girl, it had undoubtedly been some wry remark about the course of the game.

Where KC was Murphy was never far and sure enough, he was lounging in the chair next to her. He was gesturing wildly towards the two girls with sparkling eyes, confirming Lizzie’s suspicion that they were indeed still talking about the match.

Sitting next to Murphy, Orion was attentively listening to the ongoing discussion. He was looking as deeply relaxed as Lizzie had ever seen him. As if sensing someone’s attention being on him, he turned his head. As their eyes met, a smile tugged at his lips and he motioned for her to join them with the smallest movement of his head. The shift of Orion’s focus didn’t escape KC; she nudged him with her foot before bending over to him and whispering something into his ear, making Orion laugh and shake his head.

Lizzie felt a smile forming on her face. There was nothing she would have liked more than heading over to her friends right now. For the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts last September, she felt completely certain of what she wanted; it was as if reaching their shared goal today had cleared her mind of all the doubts that she had been carrying with her.

But there was one thing she had to do first. Although it was incredibly hard to do, she turned her back on her friends and scanned the crowd for a different face.

After a moment, Lizzie spotted who she had been looking for; through a gap in between several groups of people, Lizzie could make out the familiar figure of Rowan. She was on her own and - just like Lizzie herself - she seemed to be searching the crowd as well. When their eyes met, they started walking towards each other.

“I’ve been looking for you!” both girls exclaimed simultaneously when they had reached each other, before they burst into laughter; it felt easy and carefree, almost like it used to be.

“Congratulations on winning the House Cup; you were amazing!” To Lizzie’s surprise, Rowan hugged her tightly. “Penny, Tonks and I were almost dying watching you play; what a match!”

A touch of worry flickered over her face as her eyes dropped to Lizzie’s ribcage, where the Bludger had hit her. “How are your ribs? Ira told us they’re bruised pretty badly.”

“She’s right, but nothing’s broken or anything,” Lizzie shrugged. “Madam Pomfrey gave me another painkiller potion for tonight, but it will probably hurt like hell tomorrow.”

Lizzie didn’t want to talk about her injury right now. She thought about how the whole school must have seen Orion embrace her after the match; Rowan must have done so, too. Lizzie was sick and tired of this ridiculous fight with her; she wanted to sort things out with her friend once and for all.

She took a deep breath. “Listen, Ro, we need to talk.”

Much to her surprise, Rowan responded immediately. “Yes, I know. That’s why I’ve been looking for you; I wanted to apologise.”

Lizzie had already opened her mouth to reply when her brain registered Rowan’s unexpected words. Not knowing what to say, she blinked in confusion.

“You want what now?”

Rowan’s gaze dropped to the ground and she rubbed her arm uncomfortably. “When that Bludger hit you and you were hanging from that banner, I was so scared for you,” she muttered quietly, her eyes still trained on the tips of her shoes. “I mean, we all were, of course; Penny even nearly cried. But Orion was there to help you immediately and even from the Hufflepuff stands you could see how afraid he was for you.”

Rowan raised her eyes to meet Lizzie’s. The different emotions shining in them were hard to pinpoint; it was a mixture of sadness, resignation and, strangely enough, something resembling relief.

“And seeing the two of you after the game was over…” Rowan’s voice trailed off and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s just so obvious how much he cares for you.”

Lizzie slowly breathed out, not quite daring to believe what she was hearing. “So you’re not mad?” she asked tentatively. “I promised you to stay away from him after all.”

Rowan sighed. “Yes, and you did. I’ll be honest with you, I really thought if we could just pretend like none of this had happened, it would make me feel better; and maybe even make the two of us better again, too. I was so hurt and angry at you; you are such an admirable person, Lizzie, so many girls want to be just like you,” Rowan sniffed and her voice broke slightly, “I just didn’t want you to have him on top of it.”

Lizzie felt her own voice becoming breathy. “You don’t have to be like anyone else, Ro; you’re perfect just the way you are.”

But Rowan shook her head and pressed her lips together. “No, I’m not. I deliberately hurt you to feel better about myself. But it didn’t work, I only felt bad for asking something horrible like this from you and making all of us unhappy in the process.”

Her shoulders slumped as she hung her head. “I acted like the worst friend imaginable, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Lizzie asked incredulously. “If anyone should apologise, it’s me. I never should have risked our friendship like I did, I should have been honest with you from the beginning.” She laid her hand on Rowan’s arm and smiled when she lifted her head again. “Believe me, Rowan, no matter what you think, you’re always important to me.”

She hesitated to go on and gathered her courage before she continued. “But Orion is, too,” she said timidly. “It’s not for show or about wanting to be with someone I’m not supposed to be with. I really care about him.”

“I know,” Rowan sighed and pushed her glasses up her nose, “I guess I was more intrigued by the idea I had of him than by him himself.”

An encouraging smile formed on Rowan’s face. “But you, Lizzie, you know him, the real him. Not the Quidditch captain or the guy who loves broom balancing and nebulous answers, just him. And believe me, you matter to Orion as well, anyone can see that; you two belong together.”

Not knowing what to say, Lizzie took a step forward and threw her arms around her best friend’s neck. “Thank you.”

She was more than relieved when Rowan returned the hug. “What for,” she laughed before letting go again. She placed her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders, turned her around and pushed her forward.

“Now go and find him before I change my mind.” Rowan’s eyes swept over the crowd and a concerned frown appeared over the top of her glasses. “I need to check on Tulip and Tonks, they were talking about tinkering with some firecrackers earlier.”

She adjusted the Prefect badge on her jumper, gave Lizzie another smile and quickly vanished in the crowd. Lizzie watched after her for a second before she turned around as well.

Just as she started walking towards where Orion was still sitting with their friends, Penny jumped on her out of nowhere grabbing her arm.

“There you are!” she squealed. “Where in Godric’s name have you been?”

Lizzie wanted to reply but didn’t get a chance before Penny forcefully dragged her towards a big group of people standing close to the central bonfire. She was constantly babbling with excitement. “He is here, Lizzie, can you believe it! Ethan Parkin is here. At our victory party! This is incredible, he is incredible, all of this is incredible!”

She tugged at Lizzie’s arm impatiently. “Come on now, he has been asking about you several times already!”

As they were approaching the huge crowd that had gathered near the blazing fire, Lizzie could make out Ethan and Skye standing at its centre. The House Cup was sitting next to them on the grass, its silver handles decorated with black and yellow ribbons. The giant trophy was coming up higher than Skye’s knees; when Madam Hooch and Professor Dumbledore had handed it over to Orion at the ceremony on the pitch, Lizzie had been able to see how he had momentarily struggled to lift it over his head; Lizzie and Skye had only managed to do the same when they had tried it together.

Now, Skye was glancing down at the Cup every now and again, still unable to believe she had finally achieved what she had dreamed of ever since. Her father, on the other hand, paid the glinting trophy no mind; his hand was resting on Skye’s shoulder, his face beaming with pride. He was talking animatedly to his awed onlookers; Lizzie could see Skye was blushing and trying not to roll her eyes. She sighed inwardly; Ethan Parkin was probably talking about his favourite subject: himself and his illustrious adventures with the Wigtown Wanderers.

But when Penny pushed them through the crowd towards the front, Lizzie was surprised to hear that Ethan Parkin wasn’t gushing about his family’s club after all; instead, he was recounting the course of their match in such painstaking details it could have put Murphy to shame. He took a special joy in painting all of Skye’s free throws, goals and special manoeuvres in the brightest colours to the adoring masses; her last move in particular had him bursting with pride.

“If you ask me, that Keeper stood no chance from the moment she got her hands on the Quaffle,” he was declaring just now. “It’s a special technique my Skye has, Parkin family secret, of course; just knew she wouldn’t fail her shot.”

He interrupted his monologue and his eyes lit up as they discovered Lizzie. He nudged Skye with his elbow.

“Look who’s here, Skye; seems like we finally found your missing mate. Wondered where you might be at, lassie.”

Lizzie motioned to her ribcage. “I had to go and get my ribs checked.”

“Aye, that one looked like it hurt. I know what a Bludger to the rips feels like, but let me tell you, a good player always pulls through, no matter what.”

He clapped a heavy hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “Well done, lass, you did a fine job out there. You lot can learn from this one,” he proclaimed to his fans, still squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder. “Takes some strength of character to recognise when your teammate’s abilities are greater than your own; right decision of Lizzie to pass the Quaffle to Skye, it was the key to their victory.”

Like Skye before, Lizzie was trying not to roll her eyes. “If you say so, Mr. Parkin.”

“How often do I need to tell you, call me Ethan.”

Lizzie smiled noncommittally. “At least one more time, Mr. Parkin.”

He laughed jovially and turned to his fans again, recounting some other detail of their match; Lizzie wasn’t even listening anymore. Using her father’s distraction, Skye took her chance and pulled Lizzie away from the crowd for a moment.

Looking back over her shoulder, she rubbed her neck in embarrassment. “Sorry dad’s so enthusiastic. Don’t listen to him boasting about me, you were smashing today.”

“As were you,” Lizzie smiled.

A smug grin stole onto Skye’s face. “Yeah, we did quite a good job, didn’t we?” Seemingly out of nowhere her expression turned serious again. “But don’t you think I don’t know what you were doing.”

Out of nowhere Skye nudged Lizzie’s shoulder, maybe a bit more forceful than she had meant to.

“Ouch! What was that for!

Skye ignored Lizzie’s complaints. “You were at your favourite distance for that last goal; you always make that shot.” She set her index finger onto Lizzie’s chest to accentuate her words. “Don’t you ever dare to risk a win like that again, you hear me, Jameson?”

Before Lizzie could say anything in her defence, Skye had hugged her tightly. “But thank you anyway.”

Lizzie grinned when Skye abruptly let go of her only seconds later. “What’s that now, Parkin? Are you going soft on me or what?”

Skye huffed and laughed out loud. “You wish, Jameson!”

With a last genuine smile at her friend, Skye returned to her father’s side. Lizzie couldn’t help but smile to herself taking in the scene. Despite all the pressure he had put his daughter through, knowingly or not, Ethan was now looking down at Skye with overwhelming pride; Lizzie wasn’t sure if she had ever seen Skye being happier than in this exact moment.

She stayed with the Parkins for a little while longer until Lizzie felt it wouldn’t be impolite to leave anymore. She was tired of Ethan’s constant droning, even if it was about Quidditch.

Lizzie was impatient to finally get her chance to talk to Orion now, but when she turned to the place her friends had been occupying earlier, she found it deserted; none of them was anywhere to be seen.

Not really knowing what to do, Lizzie started aimlessly strolling around the party, hopping from group to group, chatting with all sorts of people here and there.

So many happy faces were smiling at her as she moved through the crowd, congratulating her and clapping her on the back. Even her Gryffindor friends were seemingly enjoying themselves in this cheerful environment.

Lizzie could see Azariah laughing with Charlie and Andre, his arm draped around Ira’s shoulder; the curly haired Hufflepuff had her head resting against him and smiled from time to time. A bit further on, Julian and Henry were joking with each other, both raising their butterbeers in her direction when they saw her walking by. Sitting a little more secluded from the rest of the crowd, Lizzie could even spot Judith and her boyfriend Talbott; she was surprised to see the evasive Ravenclaw boy make an appearance at such a busy place, but then again, judging by the adoring looks he gave his girlfriend, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Judith.

Upon seeing all of her friends so relaxed and happy, a warm and fuzzy feeling was spreading inside Lizzie’s chest. As she leaned against a tree and took a sip of her butterbeer, however, she couldn’t help but feel a bit lost without having one of her own close friends to talk to.

Completely lost in her thoughts, the sudden sound of a familiar voice close to her ear almost made her jump out of her skin.

“Looking for someone, Chaser?”

Turning around, Lizzie found Orion standing behind her with a smirk on his face. Trying to ignore her wildly beating heart, Lizzie broke into a smirk of her own.

“What makes you think I’m looking for someone?”

“Aren’t we always looking for something or the other?” he responded casually, but the smile on his lips was mirrored in his eyes..

“I guess you’re right,” Lizzie mused, “but the someone I’ve been looking for is rather hard to catch tonight.”

Orion laughed quietly, the warm sound making Lizzie’s heart skip a beat. “I take it you’re drawing from your own rich pool of experience. You’ve been as elusive as a beam of sunlight this whole year; always visible, but impossible to get hold of.”

“Well, here I am.” She sighed in mock exasperation and rested her elbow on Orion’s shoulder. “But alas, the one I was looking for isn’t.”

Orion chuckled, clearly unimpressed by her teasing. Lizzie fought to not lose her composure as she felt his hand on her back, his touch giving her goosebumps all over.

“Is that so?” he whispered into her ear before drawing back again. “I fear you’ll have to make do with me.”

Lizzie tilted her head and grinned. “I think I can live with that.”

The atmosphere between them felt different; even when they had been nothing but friends, they had never spoken to each other in such a light, teasing manner before. However, this new dynamic felt completely natural. All the tension and strain that had hung between them for the better part of the year had vanished into thin air; Lizzie was loving every second of it.

Her breath hitched as she felt Orion adjust his hand on her back, his fingers grazing lightly over her spine.

“In fact,” he conceded, “Rowan mentioned you were looking for me.”

Surprised, Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “She did?”

Although Rowan had said she was alright with it, Lizzie was still glad to see that she had actually meant it. The thought of not having to lie to anyone anymore felt wonderful and strange at the same time.

“I’m as surprised as you are. I take it, the two of you were finally able to make peace?”

Lizzie sighed with relief. “Yes, neither one of us was what you’d call a perfect friend lately.”

Orion’s smile grew softer. “Perfection is a matter of perspective, isn’t it?”

Unable to think of a witty response, Lizzie’s cheeks blushed a deep scarlet and her eyes dropped to the ground. The atmosphere had shifted yet again, and she could feel the butterflies dancing in her stomach; she wasn’t entirely sure whether they were stemming more from nerves or excitement.

She was spared an answer, however, when a high, whistling sound suddenly cut through the air, directly followed by a mix of shrieks and laughter. The unmistakable cackling of Tonks and Tulip was clearly discernible above it; Lizzie recalled Rowan’s concern about seeing them meddling with some firecrackers.

Unimpressed by the commotion, Orion shot her a sideways glance. “What do you say, let’s leave the crowd to themselves and their fireworks for a bit?”

Lizzie tore her gaze away from the colourful sparks erupting over where the two troublemakers were undoubtedly working their magic and smiled at him.

“Sounds like a good plan, Captain.”

They left their spot under the tree and moved through the crowd that was flocking towards the commotion. Orion was walking in front of Lizzie, quickly gaining ground on her as the stream of people was thickening.

Breathing in deeply, Lizzie gathered her courage and lightly placed a hand on his arm before he was out of reach.

“Wait for me, will you?”

Orion looked back over his shoulder and waited for her to catch up with him. When she was closer, Lizzie let her hand travel down from where she had touched him to his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. Her heart was beating frantically as she felt the slight pressure of his fingers against the back of her hand.

Neither of them saw the surprised looks they were attracting as they broke free from the crowd, nor the badly contained smiles of their friends as they passed them. And even if Lizzie had noticed, at this very moment, she couldn’t have cared less.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #quidditch #orion amari #rowan khanna #skye parkin #charlie weasley #lizzie jameson #aob #art of balance #the quidditch squad #penultimate chapter #can you believe it #I still can't believe it #get ready for the final one #I cried writing this chapter #surreal

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Shadow.”

Hope you all like this one today. It is a bit spooky, but not to bad I think, so hopefully it will be ok for everyone. But I leave it to you to decide what cou can handle.

He was lying in bed asleep when the call came through on his implants. The little buzzing in the side of his neck roused him from sleep and he grumpily looked at the clock rubbing his eyes. It was 4 in the morning. He supposed there were worse times to wake up, though the fact he hadn’t gotten to sleep until 12 the night before made it a bit more questionable.

Sunny had left around the time he went to bed having tried to keep him company in his paranoia, worried that he would suddenly turn around and see the long dead face of Captain Everett, the captain of a civilian transport turned to cannibalism for some unknown reason, and someone he had been forced to kill with his own hand.

Someone he had been seeing in places he shouldn’t be seeing him.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, sitting up and looking around.

He would be the first to admit, that if the viewing window hadn’t allowed in the proper amount of ambient light, he would have sprung for a night-light. Even so, he did his best to keep his face away from the floor length mirror as he turned to look down at his implant.

URGENT Admiral to deck 8

He strapped on his leg, pulled on some pants and a shirt and boots before hurrying out of the room.

Waffles stood from her dog bed trotting over to nose his hand with her cold damp snout. He patted her on the head and ordered her to stay as he walked towards the door.

He nearly ran headfirst into Simon who was waiting outside, and honestly nearly screamed, but settled for a strangled yelp somewhere in between, nearly pitching onto the floor.

“Mother-of-hell-Lieutenant.”

“Sorry for startling you, sir.”

“Do you ever sleep.”

“Yes sir.”

“That was a rhetorical question.” He groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, “What are you even doing up?”

“I was alerted to a situation before you. They weren’t sure if it was important enough to mention, but I deemed it important enough.”

“And this situation is…. What exactly.” She stared at him with her wide eyes, which she had the strange and unsettling habit of not blinking too often, “The crew is reporting things gone missing, especially down in engineering.”

“Gone missing! What do you mean gone missing?”

She looked at him with her head tilted, “I don’t understand the question sir?”

His shoulders slumped lightly, “I want to know what has gone missing, why they think it is even missing, and who could have taken or misplaced it if it is.”

“WHy didn’t you just say so, sir.”

He sighed internally. Simon was a very efficient and organized person, but she had trouble with metaphors, turns of phrase, sarcas, rhetorical questions, and getting along with people in general.

“Just little things here and there sir, but enough that the crew is noticing. Almost everyone has misplaced something.”

“Right, I see.”

He turned to walk down the hall with her listening to the list that she had compiled of all the things that were missing. Most of it seemed sort of innocuous, mostly tools, or spare parts that no one had bothered to lock up, but he knew from looking at the ship’s equipment manifests that most of those things (while relatively minor for one of the most expensive intergalactic warships ever built) they weren’t without value.

“Anyone suspected so far?”

Simon shook her head, “No sir. Everyone was asleep when the items were stolen and the records of their implants have them in those locations all night. So no one on the day shift was lying. We have been going around asking people on the night shift and should know something sooner rather than later.”

He nodded his head and was about to take a step down onto deck four when the distant rumbling of the engines ground to a screeching halt. The red emergency lights in the hallway pulsed once and then brightened.

A clattering noise echoed through the hall, and with the sudden shutdown of the engine, the ship jolted slightly causing both him and the lieutenant to go stumbling forward.

Simon almost hit her knees, and he was barely able to catch himself on the wall to his right,

“What the Hell!” The buzzing on his implants began almost as soon as the jolt happened, and he opened the com as he broke into a jog towards engineering.

“What was that!” He demanded over the line.

“Engines say they are offline, sir. Nonfunctional.”

“Say again.”

“We are dead in the water, sir.”

He felt his skin go very very cold. A chill breeze semed to rush over his body as that revelation came in over the line.

Dead in the water

Dead in the water like that civilian transport.

The once familiar glowing corridors of his ship now took on a sinister cast. The glowing red light that highlighted the mental around them shimmered hellish. The corridor before them was dark, shadowy, more like a cave and less like a ship.

Beside him, Simon reached into her uniform pocket and pulled out a pen.

With a sharp click, the small pen light was engaged and the hellish red cast was chased away by a sharp beam of white light.

Thankful for the sudden illumination, he followed her down the halls and into engineering.

He found Narobi there grilling her engineers on just exactly what was going on.

One of them was shaking his head, “I, I’m sorry Ma’am, but I don’t know. I was here when it went off.”

“Nothing shuts off an engine that fast unless one of the direct support systems was tampered with. The engine would have to turn off quickly, so I need you guys out looking for every release valve, ever failsafe, and every energy dampener you can find.” She turned to look at one of her other underlings, “And you get down to storage and find us a new part. I made sure than when I started working on this ship that we had enough spare parts for a small Omen if we had to. Now GO!”

The two men scampered off into the darkness, like rats scurrying away from approaching footsteps.

They were left alone in a pool of white light, and Narobi turned to face him.

“Anything I can do to help?” He wondered

She sighed, “I’m not sure, sir. We have been experiencing… strange things all night-”

“Yeah, having your stuff go missing.”

She waved a hand at him, “Yes there is that, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

His chest tightened slightly, and he shifted nervously on his feet. The darkness around him seemed to be pressing in.

“WHat do you mean?”

She shook her head, and the look on her face was not exactly encouraging, “THe crew is reporting…. Strange movement. More than one of them would have sworn they had heard or seen something, generally a dark shadow at the end of the hall, or a flicker out of the corner of their eyes.

No no no, this could not be happening.

His ship was new!

It couldn’t be haunted!

No one had even died here yet…. Then again there were those dead Kree. DId they have something to do with it? He shook himself in annoyance. Why the hell would he jump to a supernatural explanation? He was flying a spaceship, for crying out loud. More than likely it was some kind of alien, which wasn’t much more formorting, but it at least meant they could deal with the problem.

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I want to help. I know I’m not an engineer but, this is my ship, and I made a business of knowing her backwards and forward before she was given to me.”

Nairobi looked him up and down, her full lips pressed tightly together, “Well, I suppose we could use all the help we can get. Take a light, and, if you can, check the maintenance channels up the back of decks ten through three. It is kind of tight in there and you are going to have to climb up a few ladders.

He nodded, “I can do that. Call me if your men find anything.” he turned to look at simon, “Head up to the bridge and take the chair. Keep me updated on what is going on.”

Simon stared at him, “Take the chair sir, you mean like….”

“Yes, Go upstairs, sit in the captain’s chair and be the captain while I figure out what is going on.”

“But sir, that is highly-”

“Unorthodox, yes I know, but this is how I do things, so go on.”

Simon wasn’t the kind to unusually show much emotion, but the little spark in her eyes and the sudden spring to her step suggested that he might have managed to make her day, despite the fact that they were dead in the water, and unable to move.

In the dark.

Alone.

He wished for a moment that he had brought waffles along with him, but he knew that she wouldn’t be able to follow where he was going. He wondered, not for the first time, why he had even volunteered for this sort of thing. He was the Admiral, and by rights that meant that his most important job was to delegate duties to other people.

Of course even thinking that made him very aware of how much he disagreed with that sort of leadership, and so he sighed, taking a light from Narobi as he moved into the darkness.

WIth the rumbling of the engines suspended, the ship was left eerily quiet. It was like someone had come and stuffed his ears full of cotton or mud. He would say it was equivalent to what happens when a thick layer of snow falls in the mountains, and great white snowflakes fall from the sky.

It seems as if all sound is drained from the world but the crunching of ones own footsteps through the powder.

But now, it was the sound of his own boots clattering over the metal deck. The beam of his light cut through the darkness sweeping over the metal, up and down the walls trying to find anything amiss.

He was alone in the darkness.

At one point he chose to switch off his light and turn on his infrared in his prosthetic eye.

The world lit up around him in grey. There was no color, but he could see further than he could with the flashlight, and the darkness didn’t seem so penetrating. .

f course his left eye was almost completely blind in the blackness of the ship, but that was a small price to pay for the security he felt that the other eye gave him.

He moved up a set of rickety stairs scanning from left to right before forcing himself into a small vertical shaft, crawling his way up. On occasion he would pass through a pool of red illumination from the security lights, but with the filters on his eye, the dim red glow did not interfere with his long distance vision.

He was walking down one of the maintenance hallways checking and rechecking the piping and wiring that ran along the sides when a sudden soft brushing reached him from behind.

He spun quickly on the spot, his hands held up his heart racing.

For one moment, his infrared eye thought he saw something flash out of sight down the T intersection behind him, but it was so fast that it could have been nothing, His heart was hamming so hard, he could hear the rush of blood through his ears.

He took a deep breath.

He was not an overly religious man and generally didn’t have an opinion about prayer one way or the other, but in that moment he was about ready to have a religious revelation, though weather ‘please dear god don’t let it eat me’ is considered a prayer or not is up to semantics.

He stood there for a long while in the dark just watching the hallway behind him, though eventually the logical side of his brain determined that his recent paranoia was just making him see things, and he turned nervously on his heel to continue his search.

And so he crawled through the bowls of the ship scampering through the walls and past air vents, feeling like he was seeing something he wasn’t meant to see despite this ship belonging to him.

He made his way into another tal vertical shaft and began clambering up the rungs. Darkness pooled above and below him. He tried to focus on his hands and feet, the rungs small and slippery with his own sweat.

HE was almost to the top of the shaft, his head and shoulders peeking up over the lip of metal.

And onto a pair of feet.

His head snapped violently upwards at the colorless grey face of Captain Everett.

He screamed in shock, jerking back. His foot slipped on the rung, his hands came free, and his stomach dropped as he plunged downward into the shaft.

His flailing arms and feet clattered and slammed against the metal as he fell. Adrenaline shot through him forcing his human brain to capture the scene at more frames per second. The world around him seemed to slow, and he was able to snatch a hand out at one of the rings. With one hand he managed to hook his fingers around one of the rungs, his shoulder jerking violently sending a shock of pain up and into his hand.

He lost his grip and began to fall again, but it had slowed him enough that he was able to force his feet out in one direction catching himself with his back pinned to one side of the shaft, and his feet pinned to the other held up only by the pressure of his feet and back.

He would have cried out in pain for his shoulder but clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his breathing.

HE lifted his head looking up at the top of the shaft, but saw nothing. He was shaking so violently, that he was sure his foot would dislodge any second. WIth his numb left hand, he reached out and grabbed the rungs of the ladder. His right arm hurt so bad, but luckily it wasn’t dislocated.

He sat at the center of the ladder, his head resting on his hands shaking for a good few minutes before he was able to force himself to crawl up the shaft. His eyes were fixed above him, but when he reached the top this time, he was alone.

He had to lean against the wall for a second to compose himself, the scare of seeing the strange apparition and his near death fall making him sick and light headed, but he forced himself to continue on, jumping at every small noise, glancing over his shoulder every other second.

He came to a T intersection, and was about to take a left when a dark shape appeared at the end of the hall.

He froze.

The shape vanished.

He had seen enough horror movies to know how this ended, and he turned quickly to the right, glancing back over his shoulder, though he saw nothing. At the next intersection, he saw the same shape again and went the other way.

It was following him, he could tell,

He wasn’t about to let this thing eat him without others knowing, so he radio up to the bridge, “Simon, do you read.” His voice was shaking and he didn’t care.

“I’m here Admiral, is something rong.”

“I think something is down here, can you do a scan of maintenance shafts deck five.”

Her voice was rather wary as she did so, “Yes sir, scanning now.”

He continued quietly forward.

“Got it.”

“Anything.”

There was a pause, “No, the only signature we are picking up is yours, sir.”

“Did you try a thermal scan?”

“Yes sir, and there was nothing.”

A cold chill ran up his spine, he felt sick, and the shaking -- that had begun to die down -- started up again.

“Thanks Simon.”

“Yes sir…. Do you want me to send someone.”

“No…. No I think I’ll manage.” She must think that he was totally insane, better not let anyone else know about that little problem. His arm and body still throbbed from his fall.

He turned another corner and was just walking down the hall when he felt a set of freezing cold hands grip him from behind.

He froze as a waft of cold breath washed over his ear.

He was frozen on the spot in sheer terror.

He could feel it lean in.

“Up.” THe voice whispered in his ear.

And then the hands withdrew.

He turned sharply around fists raised, but there was nothing there. He stood there very confused before slowly, and with great fear lifting his eyes upwards, expecting to see a black eyed apparition staring down at him razor sharp teeth bared.

But instead of that he saw a gaping hole on the wiring.

One of the coolant diffusers was missing.

He frowned and leaned upwards to get a better look.

Of course , this couldn't have been the cause of the ship shut off. If it took a single coolant diffuser to shut off the entire engine, than it would be a poor design indeed. There were hundreds of these all over the ship designed to keep the warp core and fusion core cool, and for this reason the ship had backup after backup in place for if one failed. As far as he knew there were at least 500 in operation.

Though if enough of them had gone missing…. The engines might shut off to avoid a potentially dangerous warp.

It wouldn't kill them but it would get hot.

He turned down his implant, “Narobi, I think i found something.”

She responded quickly, “What is it.”

“Coolant diffuser is missing up on deck, but I don’t see how that could cause this.”

“It wouldn’t…. unless .”

“Unless what?”

“Unless it wasn’t that at all, and it was the engineering monitoring system that was tampering with.”

He was slightly confused for a moment, “What do you mean.”

“I mean i should have been alerted when that piece of equipment was removed, but I wasn’t which means our monitoring systems are offline. Or parts of it . I didn’t notice before because the engine diagnostics was still working.”

“What do you want me to do about this?”

“Mark it on the map and then head back here. I will send someone up to replace it. We have plenty of spares.” He nodded and then -- remembering she couldn't see him, agreed.

He turned and began to head back down to engineering.

That was when he sensed it again, something standing behind him. He froze his heart hammering.

“I…. I odn’t know what you want, but I…. I…” He stammered for a bit before taking a deep breath, ‘Thank you…. For telling me about the diffuser.”

IT was, suddenly, very surprising. The cold chill turned into a warm sensation blossoming up through his chest.

The fear faded away slightly and his heart began to slow.

He could still feel IT behind him, but…. It didn’t seem so bad all of a sudden.

He wasn’t sure if the word had come through in his head or if he had heard it outloud. For a moment he wondered if it was conn but dismissed that quickly. Conn felt completely different.

He turned, and instead of heading down towards engineering he slowly chased a shadow.

One that seemed to flicker in and out of existence in the distance, to the point where it would have been easy to convince himself he was seeing things.

He was led through maintenance towards the nose of the ship, through the halls and floors of the maintenance tunnels.

He was almost to the nose of the ship, when a distant clattering noise came to him.

He moved forward a little, peering quietly around the corner to where the noise was coming from.

And when he did his eyes widened.

In the dim light of his infrared eye, he watched the Kree dislodge a dampener coupling from the wall.

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goodduckingomens · 3 years

Text

Pelican AU or as long as we’re together

Aziraphale and Crowley were sitting on the jetty. They had been sitting on the jetty for quite a while, Aziraphale under a parasol and Crowley gently roasting himself, and they had been drinking for most of it, simply because they could. Cold white wine just paired so nicely with hot summer sun.

Aziraphale was currently caught up in a thrilling tale of espionage, treason and love (Trashy romance novel, call it what it is, angel.) and thus he hadn’t really noticed how quiet Crowley had been for quite a while. But he had, still. And it was bothering him. Crowley wasn’t quiet, except when he was up to no good.

A sneaky look at the demon at his side revealed that the current devilry was apparently staring very intently at a pelican that was bobbing on the water.

Aziraphale closed his book and cleared his throat. Then he cleared his throat louder. Then he cleared his throat louder once more and made himself cough. Crowley blindly reached for the wine bottle, refilling Aziraphale’s glass. Aziraphale took a sip.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Crowley jerked hard enough to almost topple off the jetty.

“Gee, angel, warn a demon.”

“I refuse that categorically. Only retired ones.”

Crowley finally looked over at him with a lopsided smile.

“So, my dear, what were you so deep in thought about?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. Bit of quantum science, human theories, stuff like that.”

“Oh?”

“Everett's Many-Worlds Theory. You know, he proposed there should be other universes that coexist and diverge from our own.”

“Yes, I do read, Crowley.”

Crowley looked at him weird for a second.

“Ah, science fiction. Right.”

“Did you just forget the entire genre of science fiction and think I read books about quantum physics for a minute, dear?” Aziraphale asked, amused.

“No,” Crowley mumbled and looked back at the pelican.

Aziraphale put his book away and moved closer to Crowley.

“So, what was it you were thinking about?” He asked, voice gentle.

One could never know what kind of thoughts came up in Crowley’s head when he was pondering. Aziraphale had learned to be tactful. Gentle.

“I thought that for sure there would be another universe in which you are a pelican.”

Aziraphale blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

Crowley swirled the wine in his glass and grinned.

“Think about it. The glutton of sea birds. And they can be right bastards too.”

“Why I never-”

Crowley cackled and Aziraphale bristled even further.

“Well, then you would be a seagull.”

“Ak- I- wha- a seagull? The most annoying creature to have ever been in the sky?”

Aziraphale grinned smugly.

“If you say so, my dear. A most unexpected level of self-awareness. But yes, that and you would have a blast stealing things from people. Making them run after you in their silly flippy-floppies.”

Crowley gaped at him. Then he laughed.

“Point taken.”

He raised his glass and Aziraphale clinked them together, both of them drinking and falling silent again, looking out at the sea. After a while Crowley leaned against Aziraphale’s side, a comforting weight. Aziraphale carefully arranged the parasol to only shade him.

“I would steal sushi for you, you know. And fish and chips. With extra vinegar,” Crowley murmured.

Aziraphale twisted slightly so he could drop a kiss into Crowley’s hair.

“I know you would.”

“Wouldn’t be too bad, being birds. As long as we’re together.”

Aziraphale hummed.

“Yes, dear. As long as we’re together.”

He paused.

“Then again, we wouldn’t be able to open wine bottles.”

Read the rest of the prompts HERE.

#mayfishtion #good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #my writing #my stuff #nendrab

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maraudersandlily20 · 4 years

Note

heyy! saw you were looking for some promts? well i thought if i could maybe suggest something about Reg and Sirius? maybe one of them wants to talk with the other after Sirius has ran away? something like that. only if you like the idea though!

The room was empty and cold and unlived in. It had been years since a living human had stepped into the room. There was a feeling in the air, like the past of the owner loomed in every direction.

Sirius was just... staring. He could feel himself staring, hardly breathing, trying to convince himself to take a step forward. And when he did that, he had to convince himself to flick on the light. And then he seemed to stop breathing all together.

The room looked very much the same as it always did. The bed was neatly made. There were no photographs on the walls, simply a Slytherin banner that their mother had given him hung above his drawers. The closet held numerous white, grey, and black clothing, as if he had never worn one color in his life. Even the shoes were paired and tucked away. If there had been someone living there, you wouldn’t know it from looking at the room. It was a ghost’s habitat. A place that had a memory of living that could never be pinned down.

Kreacher had told him that he had been caring for “master Regulus’” room after his disappearance. He never let the dust gather, he kept everything exactly how master liked it. It was a stagnant piece of history, unnoticed and untouched even as years moved on.

Sirius felt like the past was holding his hand, gripping tightly, forcing him to remember times spent in this room. Times spent with his...

His brother.

The titled smarted at a wound that Sirius held deep down, one that he couldn’t explain. James was his real brother, not Regulus. Regulus had picked his side. He had decided against Sirius.

And yet.

Sirius would never deny the presence of an ache in his soul when he remembered Regulus. He had felt his absence in his life the moment he had left his brother behind. No amount of begging would convince Regulus to join Sirius and leave their abusive house behind them. He was just as stubborn as Sirius was, but he lacked the courage to leave.

During their school years, Sirius had noticed evidence of their parents’ cruel treatment of his younger brother, but he never seemed to complain. In fact, Sirius often wondered if Regulus knew how to feel emotion. He seemed so cold and stone like. Remus had compared him to a statue on numerous occasions. Sirius couldn’t help but agree.

The room Sirius stood before belonged to a human that Sirius had known but maybe hadn’t fully understood. Remus told him of his mysterious disappearance and later the declaration of his death. It weighed on Sirius more than he would admit. And now, he was standing in the doorway of Regulus’ room, looking as dark and as cold as Regulus had been himself.

“I don’t suppose there is anyone in here?” He said, a sarcastic note in his voice. “Regulus would never lower himself to becoming a ghost and haunting this house. It’s haunted enough.” He wandered into the room, settling into the desk chair, swiveling it to face the bed.

“It weird, how different we were. My rooms were always covered in portraits and posters. Whereas his is just... plain. Even in the place where he was supposed to feel most safe, he never left any evidence of himself.” Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I always wondered if Regulus ever wanted to live a life outside of this,” there was a hint of pain as he spoke. “I guess I’ll never know.”

He looked at the room again, assessing the cold atmosphere and felt a deep longing inside him to just ask Regulus what he thought about his own room, why he had left it so bare. And, beyond that, why he hadn’t left. Why he refused to change, why he never let emotion overwhelm him, like any ordinary kid would have. He had so many questions for his brother that he felt would never be answered.

With a tired sigh, Sirius turned the chair back toward the desk and gently pulled the drawers open. The first drawer was incredibly tidy, quills bound together on one side, notebooks and scrolls layered on the other side. The second drawer had a bit more interesting things. There was a painting, slashes of grey, black, and red, signed by someone named Everett. There was a locket with the words “and on” inscribed inside. There were photographs of people, Slytherins in their common room; some laughing, some hugging or scowling. Other pictures of trees swaying, grass blowing in the wind, water rushing over stones. Then he found the camera, and wondered where Regulus had learned to shoot magical portraits. And wondered too if he had enjoyed it. It seemed like he had. They were beautiful, for lack of a better word.

Sirius replaced the camera and opened the small draw across the top of the desk. There was nothing inside of it but a small folded up parchment. And on top of this parchment was a name.

His name.

It was addressed to him.

With trembling hands, Sirius pulled the letter out, tracing over the swirls of Regulus’ writing of his name. He steeled himself and pulled the page apart.

He had written him a letter.

Regulus had written a letter to Sirius. Before he died.

The letter was short. Sirius couldn’t help the tears as they came to his eyes as he read the words written in steady handwriting.

“The star “Sirius” is considered the brightest star in the whole night sky. You couldn’t miss it, even if you tried. Just like you. You were always the bright one, the one that people stopped and took notice of. I always envied you for that.

On the other hand, the star “Regulus” is the brightest star in the lion constellation. By itself, it’s possible it wouldn’t be noticed at all. It requires the presence of others to truly be seen. It’s actually a collection of stars, but is visible only for a few months in its full glory, before disappearing. I may not have matched you in eternal glory, but at least I offered something.

I guess the first 17 years of my life would be considered the time I shone the brightest. And now, I am coming to the end of the light. The world is rotating, moving on... without me.

I am sitting here, staring at this treacherous mark on my arm, watching the snake move against my skin, and I wonder how I could have done it. How I ever let someone tell me how to live my life, how to feel, who to be.

I am not what he wants me to be.

And, if there is anything I’ve learned in the few years I have been alive, it’s that the people who love you should allow you to be you. And not demand you to change for the sake of their gain and their image.

You never did that. You always just wanted me to be me. That’s why you shone brighter. You illuminated the work and love of everyone else. Like a lighthouse, showing the good and the bad of the treacherous sea. You were always like that. Even after you left.

In my wardrobe, there’s a small wooden box that holds photographs I’ve never shown anyone. I want you to have them. I hope one day you will read this letter and find those photographs, and maybe you will begin to understand.

I think a part of me has always known it would come to this. Me, alone, in the house that seemed to hate us from our conceptions. You, off saving the world, with the people who love you so well, dreaming of a future I can’t even imagine. I think there has always been an understanding in my heart that I would never have that future, no matter how hard you tried to give it to me. That’s why I stayed, Sirius. I knew, if I went with you, you’d never let me be. You’d give all of your attention and energy to me, trying to make me into the person you hoped I could become. But I know better. Unfortunately, I will never be that person. It seems I have run out of time.

Other people need that love more than I do. I got to have it for so long, and I know how powerful it is. Other people need that. I hope you don’t hold back in giving it to them.

Can I tell you a secret? I never gave much thought to what I wanted to be when I grew up. I think a part of me always knew I would never get that far. And now, possibly at the end of my life, I know that I am not afraid to die.

I only wish I could tell you, Sirius, how badly I don’t want to leave you. Leaving you, as I have had to do over and over again, is like the story of the man in hell, who pushes a boulder up a hill, having to watch it fall to the bottom after every try. That pain and anguish I feel, leaving you, it doesn’t go away. It just starts over, again and again.

I promise this is the last time I’ll do it.

I hope you get to grow up and become the things that you’ve always wanted. I hope that where my life stops, at the edge of all this potential, your life will dive in and grow and flourish. That alone gives me the strength to let this be the end.

I wonder what you’ll be when you grow up. I wonder how your obnoxious and loving light will save people. It saved me. You may not believe it, considering where we are, but it did. And if my life is to end now, I hope the years I had left will be transferred to you.

You made me the lion’s heart. And now, I’m going to prove to you that you did not believe in me in vain.

Yours, faithfully,

Regulus”

And Sirius didn’t know why, but he felt like his heart stuttered to a stop. And it did not resume it’s beating for several moments. When he felt himself come to life again, he stood and wandered to the wardrobe, where he found the small wooden box that Regulus had left for him. He slid the lid off and pulled out a hefty stack of pictures. Some were enchanted, others were not. But it was clear who the star of them was.

It was Sirius.

Sirius with his friends, in the great hall, walking between classes, cheering at quidditch matches. There were a few of him dozing beneath a tree or swimming in the great lake. Pictures of him smiling and laughing, holding Remus’ had or stealing a kiss.

It was all Sirius.

And for the first time in his life, Sirius understood that Regulus had been there for all of it. He hadn’t been ignoring Sirius. He hadn’t left Sirius, as Sirius had always thought. Regulus had watched him, every moment of him, had understood him. He had captured who he loved and how he loved them. He captured him in quiet moments, and loud.

Regulus had never left him at all.

At the bottom of the pile of photos was a portrait of Regulus himself. He was setting the camera up on a bookshelf, and he was smiling. He must have been about sixteen. He was in... He was in Sirius’ room, wearing one of his old muggle band shirts. He looked more like a kid than Sirius had ever seen him, an aura of innocence about him. The picture came to life, showing Regulus laugh as he balanced the camera before moving backwards. He didn’t do anything but smile, but it was the most beautiful picture that Sirius had ever seen.

It was like Regulus had left his soul in that picture. He had left it, as proof for Sirius, that he had lived. And, more importantly, that he had loved him.

He held the picture to his chest and collapsed to the ground, not even noticing the sun set behind him. And, feeling more heartbroken then ever, Sirius cried more than he had since James and Lily had died.

#prompt #prompts #my writing #sirius black #regulus black #i cried writing this #i am super attached to reg #and those are the facts

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mopeytropey · 4 years

Photo

Author’s note: This moodboard for chapter 3 was not a shameless excuse to post Lincoln glistening and shirtless ... OR WAS IT?

a beer buds series: chapter 3

(available below & posted on AO3 here)

Timeline: this takes place during chapter 3 of 'apu' after Clarke has gone running with Lexa but before game night at Lexa + Costia's apartment

Beer: Whirlpool NEW ENGLAND PALE ALE

Soft and citrusy, Whirlpool is Night Shift's flagship New England pale ale. Pours hazy blonde with a nose of ripe peach and grapefruit. Sips juicy, fruity, and crisp, with minimal bitterness and big clementine notes. A bright, vibrant beer that’s wonderfully drinkable and remarkably refreshing.

ABV 4.5%

Whirlpool: Night Shift (Everett, MA) Lexa slows at the base of an incline, bracing her weight with her hands on her kneecaps while catching her breath. Lincoln extends his run by a few extra strides, resting his torso against the black metal railing of an overlook that juts above the harbor. They stand just six feet apart, regulating their breathing, while pedestrians, cyclists, and young children in strollers filter past. Although the sun wanes, arching towards the water, its heat has soaked Lexa’s shirt and shorts so that the material sticks to her skin in several places.

“Bit more intense than your last run?” Lincoln asks when he circles back to stand beside her.

Lexa stands to her full height, using the bottom of her shirt to wipe sweat from her face. “What do you mean?”

“Octavia tells me you managed to coerce Clarke into running with you the other day. Somehow I can’t imagine there were any interval sprints in that particular course.”

That jolt of nerves—of which she is now regretfully quite familiar—at the mention of Clarke has Lexa shrugging off a laugh and heading for the shade of the Memorial Bridge overpass. Her mind betrays her in the worst way as visions of Clarke in running gear, jogging beside her and cracking jokes, resurface yet again. She would kill for some ice cold water.

Either to drink or dump over her head.

She walks with her hands folded atop her head, triceps stretching pleasantly as she leans against the bridge piling. The cold stone presses into her skin through the material of her shirt, and Lexa focuses on the sensation. Lincoln follows her with an expectant smile.

“Clarke can be coerced by nothing, I assure you. She was the one who asked to come with me.” Lexa kicks lightly at Lincoln’s chiseled calf muscle. “Anyway, I sort of lost my running partner when he started getting laid, didn’t I?”

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Lincoln laughs, defensively holding up his palms towards Lexa. “You have not lost me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not as available.”

“Guilty,” Lincoln shrugs. “But, come on, you know how it is. You remember.”

She does remember. Lovedrunk and saturated by lust and desire—that overconsumption of physical touch that leaves no room for anything or anyone else. She remembers those first few reclusive weeks with Costia, both of them cancelling plans and shutting out the world.

It feels like someone else’s memories. A fading mirage from another life.

Lexa nods, conceding with a short exhale. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

She stands to stretch her limbs and suddenly feels like she could run another ten miles.

“Let’s grab a beer,” Lincoln suggests, and Lexa is grateful for the change in subject.

“What—now? Where would we go? I’m disgusting,” she says, plucking her shirt from where it sticks to the skin of her stomach.

Lincoln bobs his head up the sidewalk, and Lexa’s stomach clenches to see the bright white siding of Dockside. “Octavia’s working. Let’s go bother her.”

“I need to shower,” Lexa stalls.

“Nah, come on.” Lincoln strongarms her, quite literally, by wrapping his arm around her shoulders and walking farther beneath the shadowed overpass. “The girls won’t care. We’ll sit outside.”

“Linc, I—“

“Nope, no arguments. Anyway, it’s Wednesday so Clarke is probably there too. Don’t you want to see your new best friend?”

Yes. All of the time. She is both the best and worst thing in my life at the moment. It is exceedingly problematic.

Lexa admits to none of this and instead allows herself to be escorted down the short path towards Dockside’s sunny patio. She angles her head so that she can see Lincoln’s face of self-satisfaction and scowls at his ridiculous smile.

:::

“You might not want to hug me, I’m incredibly sweaty right now.”

“Like that’s gonna stop me,” Octavia says, practically jumping into Lincoln’s embrace and landing a soft kiss against his mouth.

It’s brief and chaste, but Lexa nevertheless averts her eyes and lets her gaze fall across the boats in the harbor. They’ve approached the bar from its rear side, closer to the delivery hatch, crunching through the gravel lot that separates Dockside from the bridge.

“You guys are staying for a drink, right?”

Lexa quickly wonders if she can still sneak away for a shower and meet up with Lincoln later now that he’s got Octavia in his arms. “Actually—“

“Oh, no, sorry,” Octavia smirks. “That wasn’t a question. You’re staying.”

Lexa fully surrenders after that, following Lincoln and Octavia towards the patio entrance with a short laugh. Things could be worse than having friends hellbent on spending time with her.

It is this misguided thought that precedes Lexa’s gaze landing on Clarke through the windows that line the water.

Oh no, things are actually the worst they could possibly be.

Clarke in a strapless, summery dress. Clarke with her hair twisted at the back of her head in a delicate bun so that Lexa’s vision narrows to the shape of her bare neck and shoulders. Clarke’s bright smile as she spins to collect empty glasses from a table of two college-aged girls.

Lexa’s smile drains from her face, and when Clarke looks up to see her on the patio, she feels it like a punch to her abdomen.

She had not been wearing this particularly offensive dress during Trikru’s delivery this morning, and Lexa wonders if she often goes home on her long Wednesdays to freshen up and change clothes between shifts.

Perhaps she has a favorite customer coming in later whom she wishes to impress. Perhaps Clarke has invited someone to come visit her specifically, to make the gruelling shift more bearable. Perhaps—

“Grab a seat out here.” Octavia’s direction interrupts Lexa’s inconsequential thoughts.

Perhaps Lexa should stop theorizing about Clarke and her goddamn dress and pull her life together.

“There’s this obnoxious group of guys at the bar who keep trying to flirt with Clarke about kayaking,” Octavia continues. “I have to go rescue her, but I’ll be back with drinks.”

She leaves them with a quick brush of her fingers down Lincoln’s chest, and Lexa struggles to push images from her mind of Clarke being hit on as she climbs onto a stool across from Lincoln. The patio hasn’t yet filled with a late afternoon crowd, and she and Lincoln enjoy a minute or two of relative quiet.

Lincoln hadn’t undersold the location: the views at Dockside are stunning. The harbor is aglow as boats slice its shimmering surface. Lexa allows herself to relax under a setting sun. The sound of gulls in chorus with a quiet, perpetual clanging of cars going over the bridge soothe her previously racing thoughts.

When Octavia returns, it is with glasses of ice water, two, dripping pints of beer, and Clarke at her heels.

Lexa’s relaxation vanishes in a blink.

“Night Shift. Whirlpool,” Octavia says by way of explanation of their beverages.

Greetings overlap as Octavia places coasters and pints on the table, but Clarke’s voice, most prominently, rings in Lexa’s ears. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know you guys were coming by today.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Lexa responds, avoiding Lincoln’s eye as he kicks her running shoe beneath the table.

She studiously ignores the swoop in her belly when she catches Clarke’s playful gaze instead.

“You two look properly gross and sweaty,” she comments with that unnecessarily striking smile of hers.

“Pretty sure our run was just a bit more intense than the casual little jaunt you and Lexa did the other day,” Lincoln teases.

“Hey!” Clarke reaches across Octavia for the sole purpose of pinching Lincoln’s bicep until he squirms. “I was remarkably athletic and agile, thank you very much.”

“Yes, we’re all incredibly proud of your fitness,” Octavia adds, condescendingly patting the top of Clarke’s head.

Clarke turns to Lexa. “Tell them!”

“Your endurance should be commended,” Lexa tells her entirely straight-faced.

“I hate all of you,” Clarke responds, narrowing her eyes at the three of them.

Lexa plucks at the strap of her damp tank top and represses a grin. The movement curbs Clarke’s teasing smile when she spies Lexa’s hand.

“How’s your hand?”

Lexa looks at the bandaging wrapping her right palm, almost as if she had forgotten it was there.

“Oh. It’s fine. It didn’t bother me at all during the rest of my deliveries. Stings a little now—probably from all of the gross sweat.”

Clarke rolls her eyes as Lincoln finishes a sip of beer and asks, “What happened?”

“I caught that sharp edge on the truck latch this morning.”

“Shit, I keep forgetting about having that looked at,” Lincoln says. “Did you let Indra know?”

“Yes. I had to fill out paperwork for the injury, and she said she’d have the latch replaced.”

“Why don’t you come inside and let me change the bandage.”

Having Clarke’s doting attention when it’s just the two of them is challenging. Withstanding her genuine care and concern in front of their friends is horrible.

“Oh, you don’t have to—it really doesn’t feel that bad, Clarke.”

“Hey listen, I’m not covering your deliveries tomorrow if that thing gets infected and gangrenous,” Lincoln tells her.

Lexa shoots him a look across the table for his ludicrous commentary.

“There’s no sense in you sitting there in pain just because you’re stubborn. I have all the supplies inside. Come on, it’ll just take a minute,” Clarke says and then hesitates as if she had briefly considered reaching out for Lexa’s upturned hand.

Lexa squeezes her fingers into a fist, sending a sharp, stinging pain against her injured palm. It does nothing to lessen the image of Clarke reaching out to her, but it curbs her own reckless impulses to run her fingers along the delicate curve of her shoulder just to see if—

She buries the thought and swallows hard.

“Okay,” she finally says, sliding from her stool so that she is stood beside Clarke. Eye-to-eye with Clarke’s stunning blue gaze. “Thanks.”

A tingling suspicion runs up the back of her neck as she trails behind Clarke off the patio. When they enter the cooler, darker interior of Dockside’s main room, Lexa turns to see Lincoln and Octavia huddled together and ignoring them completely.

Her paranoia—among other things—is really getting out of hand.

Clarke leads them behind the bar counter and through a swinging door into the kitchen. Lexa has never had such unfettered access to this section of Dockside, and she suddenly feels acutely aware of her damp hair and running clothes underneath the bright fluorescent lighting. Clarke grabs a plate of something from the salad line, says a quick thank you to the woman removing stems from baby spinach leaves, and they exit through another door into a dim hallway.

“My corner office with a view,” Clarke says upon approaching a heavy-looking wooden door. “Just kidding, there’s no windows in here.” She bangs open the door with her hip and steps inside, waiting for Lexa to follow her. “But, it’s where I keep the first aid kit.”

Lexa steps across the threshold with a timid smile. She’s never been inside Clarke’s office and already it feels like a line she should not have crossed. When Clarke had patched her hand that morning, they had stood in the drafty storage room with its high ceilings and spacious shelving lining the walls. It was a familiar space and vastly different atmosphere.

This room is cramped and dim. Intimate. Lexa feels out of her depth within seconds.

Clarke sets down her plate of food to fetch the box of medical supplies and is already stood too closely. Lexa thinks she can actually smell her shampoo because Clarke is just that much shorter and her head is angled to focus on removing the old bandaging from Lexa’s hand.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Clarke says.

Her words are felt in short puffs of breath against Lexa’s upturned wrist. Lexa’s other hand fiddles the hem of her running shorts while her breathing shallows and her heart hammers loudly in her ears.

She hopes the tremors building in her stomach don’t translate to her hands. Particularly while one of them is gently held by Clarke’s careful fingers.

“Your mom is a doctor so I can trust you know how to properly assess a wound, right?”

“God no,” Clarke laughs. “She would probably be horrified by my technique. Or lack thereof.”

“Great. I feel better already.”

Clarke looks up at her with a smile so utterly devastating, Lexa thinks she should have risked infection instead. “I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.”

She wishes she had a modicum of chill when it comes to Clarke, but truthfully, she does not.

Lexa tries to keep her eyes anywhere other than trailing down the slope of Clarke’s shoulder, which is unfairly close and appears soft and smooth under the low light. She skims over the minimal clutter of Clarke’s desk to stop herself from shamefully ogling a close friend doing her a favor.

There is an assortment of hodgepodge frames that hang on the dark wooden wall behind Clarke’s desk. She sees a picture of Clarke looking much younger with a boy around her age, arms wrapped around each other and stood in front of Dockside.

She hears herself asking, “Who’s that?” before she can silently advise herself to mind her business and get out of this room as quickly as possible.

“All set,” Clarke says, and then turns to face the wall behind her desk. “Who’s who?”

There’s finally some small distance between them, and Lexa breathes out slowly. She looks down to her hand, freshly wrapped in soft white gauze, and flexes it twice into a fist.

“Thanks.”

Clarke’s voice is as soft as she has ever heard it. “You’re welcome.”

For a beat, they hold a steady gaze. It passes quickly, but not before Lexa’s pulse accelerates and her palms begin to ache with nerves. She breaks eye contact first, as she often does. She can hear Clarke quietly exhale a second later because the room is remarkably compact, but also because Lexa has started to believe that her body is attuned to Clarke’s the more time they spend in the same place.

Or, she’s just being dramatic.

“The, uh, middle frame. The kid hugging you outside of the bar.”

“Oh! That’s Wells.” Clarke walks towards the frame and plucks it off the wall so that she can examine it more closely. “He’s one of my closest friends and the reason I get to play bar manager at this lovely establishment.”

That has Lexa’s attention instantly, and she forgets her nerves in favor of learning something new about Clarke. “Oh, really?”

Clarke often does this—unintentionally creating distractions from Lexa’s problematic internal narrative. She drops these little tidbits of information that snare Lexa’s curiosity. Each time, it becomes easier to just relax and enjoy Clarke’s company without overthinking the way the air condenses around them when they are stood too closely. Between that and her penchant for terrible jokes, it explains why Lexa has been able to maintain any semblance of friendship.

“Yeah, we became friends in high school—we were both into the arts, so total nerds—but he left for San Francisco right after graduation. His dad owned and ran this bar for ages, but when his memory got worse and he had to retire, Wells more or less inherited a business he never wanted to manage.”

“And he asked you to take it over,” Lexa supplies.

“Yeah, he sort of caught me at an opportune time when I had no idea what the hell I was doing with my life.” She replaces the picture to its nail on the wall, crosses her arms over her stomach, and exhales a humorless laugh.

Lexa raises her eyebrows and nods. “I can relate.”

“Right.” Clarke’s short laugh is the last lingering sound in the room.

The moment stretches, Clarke watching her as if trying to solve a riddle. Three rapid knocks at the open doorway interrupt the heavy silence, and Lexa is glad she isn’t forced to be the one to look away this time.

“Call for you on line one, Clarke.”

Lexa recognizes Mindy’s voice at her back and watches as Clarke smiles and nods. “Okay thanks, I’ll take it back here.”

“Okay, boss.”

Lexa can hear Mindy’s retreating footsteps a moment later and shifts on her feet to prepare her own exit.

“I should let you—”

“I’m just gonna—”

Words trip over one another until Clarke’s embarrassed smile matches her own.

“Thanks again for …” Lexa raises her right hand to show its fresh bandaging.

“Try not to be so clumsy next time, yeah?” Clarke sits at her desk with a smirk and Lexa takes one, measured step backwards.

“I’ll do my best,” she grins.

She thinks that if Clarke showed up to the delivery hatch wearing that dress next Wednesday, she may very well sever her entire hand from her body from sheer distraction.

“Okay, you should get out of here—Lincoln will think I’ve taken you hostage, and I’m very busy and important taking calls in my fancy office.”

Lexa laughs in response, backing her way towards the open doorway. If Octavia has stayed to keep Lincoln occupied at their table, there’s no way he’s even registered her prolonged absence. She mock salutes to Clarke once she is back in the hallway.

“I’m leaving, Madame President. Proceed with your executive responsibilities.”

Lexa exits the darkened hallway to the trailing sounds of Clarke’s laughter.

:::

#a beer bud series #apu #brewkru!#clexa fic

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blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years

Text

Close My Eyes (3)

I close my eyes and I make believe You’re the one that’s holding me…

Gif cred. @sdmngifs

Pairing: WillNE x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k+

Pronouns: She/Her

_______________

Will had found himself sitting at the island of his kitchen, looking through his camera roll. He had been going through old memories of him and Y/n, photos from forever ago. Will paused his scrolling when he had come across a certain photo. It had been taken at an after-party of a friend’s wedding. Will and Y/n had both been invited, so of course they had spent time together at the wedding. The photo was of Will holding Y/n up in bridal style as he stood by a view of a beautiful city sparkling in the night. Y/n had wrapped her arms around Will’s neck and had leaned her head against his chest, looking up at him as the photo had been taken. Will remembered feeling his heartbeat increase that exact moment Y/n had leaned her head against his chest in the photo. “Will!” The brunette had flinched at the sound of his name being called along with the sound of his front door opening. Y/n? The h/c girl had walked into the room with tears streaming down her face. Will’s heart broke at the sight of her. Without hesitation, Will stood up, pulling y/n into his arms. Immediately, Will could feel his shirt beginning to become damp from Y/n’s tears. “It’s alright, n/n. I’ve got you,” Will muttered softly, brushing a hand through her h/c hair. After a few moments, Y/n had finally calmed down. “Everett got mad at me,” She whimpered softly into the crook of Will’s neck. ‘Of course he did,’ Will thought to himself bitterly. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” “I was watching the latest Eboys video,” Y/n mumbled gently. Will tensed, had she already seen the clip James made? “And Everett saw and got mad at me, so he took my phone away,” Y/n had summed up her story quickly. Will gently grabbed Y/n’s shoulders, moving back so he could look at her in the eyes. Her eyes had gone red from crying so hard, she was sniffling. 'God, she looks so broken. Why can’t she just see Everett isn’t the one for her?’ “Y/n, he shouldn’t have the right to take your phone away from you like that. Just because to pair of you are engaged doesn’t mean that he has the right to take your belongings away as a punishment,” Will spoke in a tone of sternness. Y/n only gave a small nod, wiping a tear away. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” Will let out a small sigh. Y/n sat at the kitchen island as Will had gotten Y/n some tissue to wipe her tears away and a glass of water. 'God, why can’t she see I can treat her so much better?’ Will continued to think to himself as he watched Y/n down her glass of water. “You feeling better now?” The brunette let out a soft sigh, leaning against the island as he watched the girl. “Yeah,” Y/n broke out a small smile. “I don’t wanna go back right now.” 'Right now? Is she seriously going to stay together with that jackass?’ “You don’t have to, you can stay here as long as you’d like, you’re always welcome,” Will had smiled back at her. “You wanna watch some Netflix or something else?” “Sure,” Y/n replied, already heading out of the kitchen. After a couple of moments of looking through what Netflix had to offer, a loud banging had come from the front door. “He’s here,” Y/n whimpered, curling up to Will. 'Please tell me you’re gonna break up with him if he scares you this bad.’ Without a word, Will stood up and made his way to the door. Glancing through the peephole, the person on the other side of the door was the exact person Will despised. Everett fucking Conway. Will opened the door wide enough for there to be a crack. “Open the fucking door, Lenney!” Conway shouted, banging on the door once again. “I can and will call security,” Will snapped in a dead-serious tone. “Give me my wife back,” Conway snarled, refusing to stop banging on the door. “She’s a human being, and her name is Y/n,” Will replied, showing no emotion. “Just let her come out, I know you’re keeping her hidden away,” Conway was seething at this point, he was beyond angry. “I’m here, Everett,” Y/n called out with a long sigh. “I’ll be out in a few moments.” “Fine, say your goodbyes because you won’t be coming back to this shit hole,” Conway snapped, stepping back from the front door. Will gently closed the door, turning to Y/n. “You’re seriously not going to leave with that jackass, are you?” “I’m sorry, Will,” Y/n mumbled, walking over to Will. “I’m engaged to him.” “Then just call off the engagement, Y/n. Do you constantly want to live your life crying and feeling like shit?” Will brushed a hand through his hair. “It’ll get better, I know it will. I have hope… we’re just in a rocky situation right now,” Y/n whispered, looking down at the ground. Will placed a finger, under Y/n’s chin, making her look up. “Keep your head up, n/n. I promise I’ll try making things better for you.” Y/n quickly wrapped her arms around Will’s neck, pulling him in for a hug. Will wrapped his arms around y/n’s waist, pulling her closer as he bit his lip. Quickly, y/n tried to stand up taller, placing a kiss on Will’s cheek. “Love you, Will,” Y/n mumbled pulling away. “Love you too,�� Will’s voice cracked. Y/n flashed a small smile to him as she opened the front door, slipping out of Will’s sight. Will hadn’t gotten any sign from Y/n. Was she alright? It had been only a couple of days after she had left his home with Conway. As soon as she had left, Will had gone to call up the boys to tell them about what Conway had done. George was fuming, Alex was worried, and James was anxious. After a long call with Will, where George had just wasted time cussing out Conway, he had offered up the idea of going out to a pub the next Friday. Of course Alex and James had been invited, and of course they had accepted.

The brunette had sat in an alleyway, a bottle of Stella being held in the grasp of his left hand. Will needed a breather, the dimly lit pub and smell of alcohol was not a setting he had wanted to waste the entire night away at. The back door leading to the alleyway had opened, revealing a brunette man with blue eyes walking out. George. “So this is where you’ve been,” George let out a sigh, sitting down by his mate. He pulled a reusable vape, turning it on. “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go out to a pub tonight,” Will replied, glancing at his friend. “You need to try and get your mind off of her, Will. Yes, n/n isn’t in the right place at the moment, but it’s up to her to get herself out of there because we’ve already shown her the warning signs, she’s just refusing to accept them,” George had explained as nicotine smoke blew through his nostrils. “You’re just saying that because you’re buzzed,” Will replied, taking another swig of his beer. “Not at all mate,” George let out a chuckle as he used his nicotine machine for a second time. “I can last a couple of too many beers before I actually get buzzed. As for you… you definitely seem buzzed.” “Alright, I may have a slight buzz going on,” Will nodded, finishing off his beer. “I’m gonna head back inside,” George spoke with another sigh as he stood up. “Come inside when you’re ready.” “Will do.” It had only been a few moments after George had gone back into the pub when something had caught Will’s attention. There had been footsteps, people where walking into the alleyway. There was a group of men, none of them spoke to each other. Cautiously, Will pulled out his phone, placing the empty beer bottle next to him. He stood up as they got closer, something felt wrong. He had turned on his heels, trying to not make a big deal out of himself. But his first mistake was to turn his back on these men.

“Where’s Will?!” Alex called out loud enough for James and George to hear him. “I was just outside with him a second ago. He’s in the alleyway on the right side of the pub,” George replied in the same loud tone Alex had used. “Alright, I’m going to go check up on him,” Alex spoke before beginning to make his way towards the side door exit. As soon as Alex had opened the door he felt his blood go cold. There Will was… being jumped by four random men. Quickly, Alex ran back inside, pushing past people, only to receive “Hey’s!” and “Rude!” “George! James! We need to get to Will now!” Alex yelled as soon as he got into the earshot of his friends. “What’s going on?!” George asked as he was already getting out of his chair. “Will’s being jumped!” The trio had quickly made their out into the alleyway, only to discover the group of men were still there, huddled around Will. “Hey!” George shouted. The men looked up to see the trio, only to begin running out of the alleyway. “Hey!” George exclaimed for a second time, beginning to run after the group, leaving Alex and James to deal with Will. Luckily, he was still alive, and he wasn’t in the worst shape he could be. He did have few bruises here and there, a busted lip, and a black eye but at least he wasn’t hurt any worse.

George had finally come back after giving up on chasing the assholes that had hurt Will. The boys had easily decided to call it a night and get inured brunette home. Will sat on his couch, a bag of ice held to his bruised eye. By this time the boys had already headed back to their flats. He had already tweeted out to his fans that he’d be going on a short hiatus, there was no way for him to film videos without worrying anybody. He now stared at Y/n’s contact. Should he call her and tell her about everything? Should he just send her a good night text? What if he just deleted her contact? Without thinking, Will pressed the call button and brought it up to his ear. Only after a few moments of hearing the phone ring, Y/n could be heard. “Hey.” “Hey, n/n… I gotta talk to you about something,” Will let out a soft sigh. “Of course,” Y/n whispered. “You can always talk to me.” “I really care about you.” “I care about you too, Will,” Y/n had let out a soft giggle. 'God, her giggle is so fucking adorable,’ Will thought to himself with a small sigh. “No, I mean… I love you, Y/n.” “I love you too, Will.” 'This is gonna be tougher than I thought.’ “No-I… I wanna be your boyfriend. I fucking hate Everett, I despise him. I’ve always had feelings for you, Y/n. I love you so much and I hate seeing you cry over Conway. He treats you horribly. I just wish I could call you mine and that I could always protect you. I wanna keep you close and treat you how you should be treated. You deserve so much more than what you have now and I want to give it all to you. I just love you so much, you don’t understand,” Will had spilled his secret out without thinking. At this point he hadn’t cared anymore, he just couldn’t handle hearing her say 'I love you.’ The call went silent, not a word from Y/n. “I-” “I’m sorry, Will… I have to go.” Before it was even possible for Will to mutter out a small 'goodbye’, the call had been ended. Without thinking, Will stood up, tossing his phone across the room before tears began to stream down his bruised face.

It had only been a couple of days after Will’s call with Y/n. He was heartbroken. He had spilled his deepest secret to her, only to have her end the call as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry, Will… I have to go.” Her words were ringing in his head. It hurt. At this point Will didn’t even want to go on the internet, in fear of stumbling across a fan edit or post about them. Will found himself lying in bed, buried underneath his comforter. He had been trying to sleep as much as possible, just to keep his mind off of everything that had been happening recently. Just as he was about to doze off for the millionth time, something pulled him out of his daze. His phone began to ring. Maybe it was Y/n. Maybe she was calling to talk about what he said. Maybe he could apologize and ask if they could pretend it never happened. Maybe he could convince her that he had been drunk that night. Will sat up, pushing his comforter off of him looking to his nightstand. A random phone number was shown on his phone. Maybe it was still Y/n. She could be using someone else’s phone. Cautiously, Will picked up the phone, the ringing stopping as he held the phone to his ear. There was a pause of silence. “Y/n?” “You truly are infatuated with my wife, Lenney.” Will’s grip on his phone tightened. “What do you want, Conway?” “I wanted to tell you to stop talking to Y/n. Ignore her, push her out of your life.” Will felt his chest tighten. “Why would I do that?” “Because if you don’t worse will come to you.” “You sent a stupid gang of men to jump me,” Will let out a breath as he had quickly realized why he had been attacked the other night. “Yes, that was a warning,” Everett had snickered. “Now you listen to me, push Y/n away or worse is to come.” “Oh sure,” Will snapped. “I don’t think there’s anything much worse than being attacked in an alleyway in the middle of the night.” “But what if it involves Y/n?” Will froze. He wasn’t going to… hurt her, right? Y/n was his fiance after all, why would he want to hurt someone he’s in a relationship with? “You’re not gonna hurt her, you wouldn’t dare to,” Will sneered, his grip on his phone had tightened as hard as possible. “Don’t test me.” “It’s disgusting to know you’d even consider putting your hands on a woman,” Will seethed. “Oh, I won’t. As long as you stay away,” A dark chuckle could be heard through the phone. “You’re a horrible person.” “I’ll take that as a grain of salt.” Will hung up. He was fuming. Y/n deserved so much better than that fake excuse of a man. But now he couldn’t even get in contact with her or something would happen to her, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

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nevermore117 · 3 years

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Slips under your door once again with another note but this time i leave you kiss before I go :3c Florence 1 and 12. Cornelius 20 and 22. Afus 8. Vaughn 20 and FINALLY 25 for Buck (what's your favourite kind of food to work with?)

ohh my god you bastard THAT'S SO FUCKING MANY

Florence:

1. Who makes up your family? How close are you to them?

Uh... well, I- I guess the Admiral- Alexandra. She's family. Of course she is, she's my- my wife. Kinda comes with the whole marriage thing.

I guess technically that makes Quill family too. I'm- like, her mom is my wife, but that doesn't mean I'm also her mom. I'm not. Quill's not my kid. And she'd say the same damn thing! That's just... not how it works with us. I care about her a'course, it's just not like that.

I guess there's also my family from back when I was a kid. I've got one brother who's... he's okay, his name's Everett. We've run into eachother a couple times since back then, he's cleaned himself up a bit. He's got a wife now, she's a charmer.

12. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? (on vacation or permanently!)

Mn. I think I'd like to see the mountains up north. Some places you can still see the sea from 'em, that'd be nice. I'd like a change'a scenery though, an' that'd be a good place to stay for a bit I think. Probably a little too cold for the Admiral, but I bet I could get her t' humor me for a little while.

Cornelius:

20. Describe your biggest pet peeve.

People who don't listen. Especially when it's your area of expertise. I'm a doctor, but I can't begin to tell you how many stubborn sailors will absolutely stake their own lives on old wives' tales over real, practical healing. You don't need to let burn scars sit there and "breathe", you'll just wind up with a goddamn infection!

Even in things outside of medicine, I've had to listen to the most inane idiots trying to sound like they know what they're talking about when they're the least educated person in the room on whatever the subject is. It's funny sometimes, but mostly just insufferable. I don't know a damn thing about how to work a boat, put a knife to my throat and I couldn't tell you what a skysail is for. So when someone's talking about sailing, I keep my mouth shut. You know what I mean?

22. What’s the easiest way to flirt with you?

You want to know? Hah! Have a good sense of humor, and be able to keep up with a conversation. It really doesn't take much more than that.

Afus:

8. What do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up?

Hoo boy, I guess the first time I was actually able to help somebody? I was still working in a team, since I wasn't finished with my training yet, and we got word of some archaeologists getting stuck down in some old cave. We showed up, and there were some absolutely disgusting bug things that were trying to get into the camp. Good thing they were able to actually cause a partial cave-in of one of their tunnels, keep the bugs out long enough for us to get down there.

Anyways, it was the first time I actually, like... felt like what I was doing was worth something? I'd trained my whole life to be able to fight, and it'd always been like... well, why am I not out hunting scary dragons, or whatever? Wouldn't that be more useful?

But the thing is, there's already people who hunt dragons and monsters, all the high-profile things that get you lots of fame and recognition. Not as many people do the little things, clearing rats and chasing off giant snakes and punching ugly bugs. That doesn't get you written about in adventure stories. But it might just save some archaeologists who weren't so lucky, y'know?

Vaughn:

20. Describe your biggest pet peeve.

Oh, jeez, okay, let me think. I suppose... I do not like being interrupted very much. I know sometimes I can be, ehh, a little talkative, and I do not get to the point very quickly, but I just find it very rude when someone interrupts me because I am not speaking quickly enough for them. It is just, eh, you know, it bothers me more than I think it does other people.

Buck:

25. What's your favourite kind of food to work with?

Oh, now that's a good question, eh! Lemme think about that one f'r a moment. Rice is easy to use and easy to store, that's a good one f'r travellin'. Get some dried chili powder, now that'll give a good kick t' any meal, even somethin' bland as all hell. Anythin' that's got a strong taste even after bein' dried or salted is a blessing t' be honest. Tryin' to make regular rations somethin' worth eatin' is a hell of a hassle. It's the little things that'll make roughin' it a bit easier, though, an' good food'll do wonders f'r your group's morale. Investin' in spices an' bringin' proper tools is what you need if you're lookin' to take to the roads with a group, the more folks you've got the more worth it makin' a nice meal is, you'll be surprised how much less tetchy folks get when their bellies are full'a somethin' good.

........ What was the question again?

#buck #vaughn #afus #florence #cornelius #cornelius is so fucking easy to flirt with if you show any interest and you're kind of funny he's interested #you don't have to be like #well educated #you just have to be quick on the draw and easy to banter with #and SHOW YOU'RE INTERESTED #if someone shows interest in him that'll get his fuckin attention

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spookyboywhump · 3 years

Text

Okokok this was. Out of nowhere but holy shit I had fun with it. Some Bad Timeline content y’all, 100% Wren bullying

CW: Pet whump, dehumanization, noncon kiss, noncon touching (nonsexual), knife whump, branding (kind of), nightmares, strangulation mention

***

Eli sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment, exhausted after a long day at work. He just wanted to go and collapse into bed, sleep until he had to get up and do it all again in the morning. He stepped inside and turned around to lock the door, but he froze in his tracks, his blood running cold when he heard a terribly familiar voice.

“Hello, Love.”

No no no no. There’s no fucking way. Not here.

He couldn’t force himself to turn around, but he could feel his presence behind him. He knew he was still at the door, he could hopefully get it open, run for help, but just as he reached to unlock it again a hand tangled in his hair, and he felt the cold tip of a blade come and rest against his throat, forcing him to tilt his head back.

“No no, you’re not getting away from me that easily.” He said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” He said as he dragged him further into the apartment, into the living room. He had clearly been here for a little while, things laid out and prepared on his coffee table, things he hoped to never see again. Leather cuffs, a blue collar, that goddamn ball gag, other tools Nicholas had used on him time and time again. It only just then occurred to him to call for help, panic taking over completely.

“No! Stop it- please- help me!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. He kept screaming, he had neighbors, somebody had to hear him, he hoped desperately this would work.

He fought when Nicholas moved the knife away from his throat, kicking the back of his knee and forcing him to the floor. There was a brief moment where he let go of his hair, he tried to scramble away but he was quickly grabbed by the wrist, roughly dragged back. His arms were twisted behind his back, secured in place with the leather cuffs, and he let out a broken sob, uselessly trying to pull against them.

“No no no please! Please somebody help!” He cried, but Nicholas finally had enough, grabbing him by the hair and holding the blade to his throat again as Eli took quick, shuddering breaths.

“Stop your crying and listen to me,” He hissed in his ear, “If you shut up now, I won’t have to gag you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He said, and all he could manage was a soft, whimpered mmhm, his lip trembling as he struggled not to cry. “There’s my good boy.” He said, finally letting go of him, only temporarily as he took a seat on the couch, grabbing his face and forcing him to meet his cold grey eyes.

“P-please, please don’t- don’t-“

“Shhh, it’s okay my love.” He said gently. “Look at you- you’ve only been away a short while and you’ve already ruined yourself.” He said, using the tip of the knife to brush back a loose strand of hair. Elias had dyed it as soon as he could after getting home, a nice deep blue color he had always been fond of. The thought of having that taken away again brought even more tears to his eyes. “You ran away for what? This tiny apartment? Long hours at work? Loneliness and fear and paranoia? Why would you do that when you were so much more comfortable with me?”

“N-no, I wasn’t, I wasn’t-“ He took a deep shuddering breath, struggling to put his frantic thoughts into words. “You-you know I was-wasn’t happy, how-how could I have been? Please, I-I’m home, it’s over now, please let it be over.” He whimpered pathetically, trying his best to keep his voice down.

“It’s not over until I say it is, you know that.” He said, a cruel smile on his face. “You need to learn a lesson, you need to learn to drop this stupid idea you have that you’re actually a person.”

“I-I am- I am a person, m-my name is- is Elias Brax, I-I’m-“ He tried to go through the words Zander had taught him to hold onto himself, words he’d repeated again and again and again, only for Nicholas to suddenly slap him, his head snapping to the side.

“Shut up!” He snapped. “You’re lying to yourself and you know it. You’ve gotten stupid in your time away, you need me here to remind you.” He said. He roughly shoved Eli back, the boy crying out when the back of his head hit the edge of the coffee table. Nicholas got to his feet, wandering about the living room as he seemed to be thinking about something. “You need to learn a lesson…” He said again, Elias watching him in fear.

His heart was pounding hard in his chest, he felt like he couldn’t breath. He wanted to try to keep fighting but he was scared, he was scared and he was so, so tired of fighting, he couldn’t anymore. He wanted this to be over, but the only way to get there was to ride it out.

“Who is this?” Nicholas asked, picking up a framed photo of Everett from a shelf. From his tone, Eli knew he didn’t have the option not to answer.

“He’s dead.” He blurted out immediately, Nicholas giving him a look as though he didn’t believe him. “He- that’s- that’s my brother, he’s d-dead, you can’t hurt him.” He told him. Nicholas didn’t seem to buy it, but he dropped the picture frame, Eli flinching when he heard the glass break. He picked up the frame next to it, a photo of him and Zander taken not long before Nicholas had first kidnapped him. “The mutt is alive and well though- for now, that is. Maybe that’s what you need to learn to listen-“

“No!” He cried. “Don’t-don’t hurt him, don’t hurt- don’t hurt anyone but me!” He said, and Nicholas smiled.

“Well, if you insist.” He dropped that frame as well, Eli whimpering as he made his way back over to him. He had changed his position to watch him, making it easy for Nicholas to kick him down so he was laying on his back, his arms trapped beneath him. Nicholas got down on the floor with him, straddling his waist. He was instantly scared he intended to strangle him again, but Nicholas gently touched his face, wiping away a tear at the corner of his eye. He cringed at the feeling of leather against his skin, he’d always hated those gloves he always wore.

“P-promise me.” Eli said, hardly thinking as he said it.

“What’s that?”

“Promise me- promise me it’ll be just me. Promise you-you won’t hurt anyone e-else. Please.” He said, his voice wavering, and Nicholas laughed.

“Alright sweet boy, I promise I won’t hurt anybody else.” He told him. He leaned down, before he could turn his head away he kissed him, Eli freezing and going tense out of habit, he never did learn how he was supposed to react. He knew he was testing him, pushing his weak boundaries to see just how much he would take without snapping. He pulled back after only a moment, though it felt much longer, seeming pleased with the fact he hadn’t put up a struggle. “I only want you, after all.”

He sat up straight again, busying himself with unbuttoning the white shirt Eli was wearing. In the back of his mind he couldn’t help but be disappointed it would end up stained with blood. He watched Nicholas reach across the coffee table, picking up a different blade, one he’d used on him often before, often enough that Wren’s breath caught in his throat when he saw it.

“How many days have you been gone from me, love? I’m sure you know the number.”

“I-It… it’s been almost seven- seven weeks… forty… forty six days today…” He said softly.

“Forty six days!” Nicholas said, almost sounding impressed. “You almost made it fifty days without me, I’m surprised you made it so long! That’s far too long though, too long for you to be left alone. A stupid thing like you is better off as a pet, you know that, right?” He said, clearly expecting an answer.

“I-I… Yes… yes sir…” He wanted to argue with him but he knew it would just prolong the ordeal, he just wanted it to be over.

“Good boy. Forty six days, well, we should go ahead and get started then.” He said, Elias wasn’t entirely sure what he intended to do but he bit back a cry when the blade pierced his skin, a small, quick cut, that stung more than anything else. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he’d made four similar cuts, only to slice across them as the fifth. Tally marks. One for everyday that he’d been gone.

Five of them was irritating, but bearable. Ten of them hurt, but aside from whining he remained quiet. Twenty of them, he couldn’t handle it anymore, sobbing as he felt like it had been going on forever, and would last just as long. The stinging pain was paired with the ache of his arms, his head pounding from his panicked breathing and crying. He wanted this to be over, he wanted everything to just go back to normal.

Forty six stinging cuts later and he was in tears, and despite the pain he was causing him Nicholas gently wiped away his tears, seeming to enjoy listening to him cry. Eli didn’t even want to know what his chest looked like, didn’t want to see all the blood. He wondered if Nicholas would be kind enough to clean him up at the end of all this, or if he would simply let him bleed out. He took a deep, shuddering breath when Nicholas got off him, though his relief didn’t last long when he pulled him into a sitting position, this wasn’t over just yet.

“Alright love, you did so well for me but the gag is necessary now.” He told him, and almost reflexively, obediently, he opened his mouth, slowly going numb the same way he did when he was trapped with him. Nicholas was gentle this time, the ball pushed between his teeth, the straps tightened and locked behind his head. He tried not to think about what was going to be so bad that it was supposedly necessary. He was careful as he moved him, adjusting him to lean forward and place his head on the table, Nicholas perched on the edge of the couch behind him. He heard a sound, the click of a lighter, and he couldn’t help but think about the time Cain heated a blade, and pressed it to his tongue.

He didn’t expect how close this would be to that. A sudden searing, white hot pain pressed against his back, in between his shoulder blades, and he *shrieked*. He sobbed loudly, tears streaming down his face as it happened again, he didn’t know how but he easily placed the pattern, forming out a letter N.

He screamed, though it was muffled by the gag he screamed, desperate and hopeless. He squeezed his eyes shut, and he screamed, because there was nothing else he could do.

***

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in his living room, shoved against the table and staring at that awful blue collar. He was staring at his ceiling, laying on his bed, his shark still clutched in one arm. He was covered in sweat but cold to the point of shivering, even under his blankets. The room was lit by a pale blue light, from a cat shaped night light on his desk, a gift from Zander. He sat up, shaking as he took in his surroundings.

As he finally came to his senses, he suddenly pulled his shirt over his head, looking down and expecting tally marks but not seeing any new scars, only ones he was used to, and the brand from Cain. He was able to reach back, his hand feeling between his shoulder blades and finding no traces of a burn or any wound. He took slow deep breaths, realizing it had just been a dream.

He opened his mouth, he tried to speak, and he couldn’t. Yep, just a dream. He’d never been so relieved to be silent.

He wasn’t entirely relieved though, a sense of paranoia still weighing down on him. He hardly thought about it when he stumbled out of bed, swaying and having to grab his door frame and stop for a minute on his way out. His dreams always disoriented him, having to adjust to only half his vision again. Once he was sure he was okay, he rushed to the front door, checking the locks, all of which were still in place. He moved about the apartment quickly, efficiently, flipping on every light and checking every room, even the closets. He checked the locks on the windows, the door to his balcony, all locked, all secure, every room empty. He even stopped in the living room, making sure the pictures of Everett and him and Zander were still intact, which they were. He was still nervous, but he felt safe enough to return to his room, climbing back into bed. He didn’t lay down, he stayed sitting propped against his headboard, holding his shark close to his chest.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare. He was alone, safe in his home. Nicholas wasn’t there, he couldn’t hurt him anymore, he didn’t have to play the part of his Love ever again.

My name is Elias Brax, He mouthed, his lip trembling, I’m twenty four years old. I’m not a dog. I’m not Wren. I’m not Love. My name is Elias Brax.

His shoulders shook as he buried his face in his stuffed animal, a silent sob wracking his body. He was tired of this, he wanted to be okay, he wanted it all to be over. Nicholas couldn’t hurt him anymore, but he was still scared of him, still so, so scared of him hurting somebody he loved. He didn’t want to be alone, he wanted Zander there, but it was hard to get ahold of him when he couldn’t even speak. He didn’t really want to bother him as it was, he had spent so much time with him in the first few weeks, Eli had been insisting he could finally sleep alone again. Well, apparently he couldn’t, it seemed.

He didn’t fall back asleep that night. He stayed curled up like that until the sun rose, and even then he didn’t want to move, too scared of doing something wrong, too scared that maybe the nightmare had been reality, and this was the real dream.

***

Tag List: @ihaventwritteninsolong , @galaxywhump , @legallylibra , @to-whump-or-not-to-whump , @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi , @as-a-matter-of-whump , @grovegrocer , @renkocchi , @whumpasaurus101 , @inky-whump , @lonesome--hunter , @ladygwennn , @simplygrimly , @withering-whump , @lave-e, @whatwhumpcomments , @thatsthewhump , @just-another-whumper , @starnight-whump , @unicornscotty

#whump #my writing #my oc’s #Bad Timeline #Wren #Nicholas #sibling death tw #pet whump #dehumanization #noncon kiss #noncon touching #knife whump #branding #nightmares

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 14

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Katriona Cassopeia (in mention) belongs to the gorgeous @kc-and-oc

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning:

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @carewyncromwell @night-rhea @thatravenpuffwitch

Man, we were killin' time We were young and restless We needed to unwind I guess nothin' can last forever Forever, no… ~ Bryan Adams - Summer of ‘69 ~

Much to his relief, Orion’s fear of having been discovered seemed to prove unwarranted. Skye was a direct person, never shy to speak her mind; if she had truly seen something not meant for her eyes during the interview, Orion was sure she’d have already come and spoken to either of them.

But nothing of the sort had happened. She had acted just like she always did and his first surge of worry had died down again. Sometimes even the most focused mind was prone to being tricked and, as he had to admit to himself, focus was something he found himself lacking in these days.

It wasn’t only because of Lizzie’s teasing getting riskier that he found his mind wandering more often than not. Ever since the show they were meant to be playing for the children from the foster system had shown its face on the horizon, an ever present restlessness had been growing in Orion.

Dreams that he had pushed to the edges of his mind a long time ago had started haunting him again; they kept coming back whenever they held an event stirring the buried memories of his childhood. He loved seeing the light in the children’s faces when they were spending time with them; he knew it was a rare sight, after all. The emotional mess Orion carried back with him afterwards was the dark side of the coin, however.

The charity event was scheduled for the next day; they were to play a small acoustic set for the children in the afternoon and their regular show only a few hours later on top. To keep their spirits high before the double load, Ethan had scheduled a day off for them.

The weather was still uncharacteristically hot and so most of the band and crew had found themselves at the small pool on the rooftop of their hotel. Much to everyone’s surprise, even Artemis had joined them.

Charlie had followed Skye’s advice to take Artemis for drinks a few days prior. He had been unusually tight-lipped about it when they had asked him how it had gone down.

“It was good,” he had shrugged, “told you she’s not as bad as you all think.”

While the young pyro tech still kept her distance from the rest of them, Orion had seen her chatting with Charlie outside of their work on stage since then. He was glad she seemed to be taking a step into the right direction, lowering her armour even for the tiniest bit.

But Artemis’ tentative attempts at integrating herself with their group lounging by the pool were counteracted as soon as she took her shirt off. Everett audibly wolf-whistled at her black bikini with surprisingly colourful patterns crisscrossing it. Her withering glare was met with a lewd grin as Artemis picked up her stuff and dumped it on the deckchair farthest away from them.

Lizzie gave Everett a smack on the back of his head. “Well done, Ev, you’ve scared her away. I wanted to have a chat with her.”

Everett looked at her over the rim of his sunglasses. “I’m not stopping you. Two beauties in bikinis getting close? Who would I be to object? You could rub her back with sunscreen.”

He laughed to himself. “If Artemis isn’t up for it, I’m always here for you, gorgeous.”

A hint of the same irritation Orion felt flickered over Lizzie’s face. “You’re a real mood today.”

She got up from her own deckchair and started over in Artemis’ direction anyway, but was stopped by Charlie catching onto her wrist.

“Woah, where are you going, little rockstar?”

“Go and talk to Artemis, see if I can convince her to come over if Ev shuts up.” She gave the singer lounging in his chair a dark look.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Charlie said and pulled her down next to him. “Trust me, if you push her you’ll be the one scaring her away. She’ll come over if she wants to.”

Lizzie opened her mouth to object but Charlie shook his head. “You can’t force her, sunshine.”

“Fine,” Lizzie snorted, not pleased by the situation, “so what’re we gonna do now?” She nodded in the direction of the pool. “Anyone up for a round of water polo?”

Everett declined, preferring to seek a better place to tan, while Merula did the opposite and withdrew to the shade with a book. So it was Charlie, Lizzie, Andre and Skye who made their way to the water. Orion would have joined them, but he was preoccupied with some ideas that had been floating around in his head since that morning; he wanted to write them down before he’d forget them.

He was lying on his stomach on his deckchair, notebook open in front of him, but found it hard to concentrate. The match of water polo going on in the pool had turned into some kind of wrestling match, like it always did eventually. Lizzie and Skye were sitting on Charlie’s and Andre’s shoulders respectively, trying to knock the other into the water; a lot of giggling and shouting was involved as they fought for the upper hand.

What really distracted him though, was the way the sunlight was refracting in the water droplets on Lizzie’s skin when she moved. It let her slender body shimmer, her tan she always got so quickly in the summer months a beautiful contrast to the vibrant red of her bikini. Her wet hair looked a lot darker than it actually was and it was clinging to her back.

Skye almost managed to knock her off Charlie’s shoulder and Lizzie laughed as she righted herself again. It was the kind of laugh that made her stand out amongst all the others, bright and captivating. It gave her an aura that was impossible to escape, drawing eyes whenever she entered a scene. She had the ability to light up a whole room with her smile, as fresh and beautiful as a sunrise.

“I’d say I’m 95.9 % sure what you’re staring at, my friend,” Orion suddenly heard the voice of Murphy next to him, “or should I rather say who?”

Orion tried not to let his surprise show; he had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard his best friend approach. “Your meaning is obscure to me,” he answered evasively. “I’m simply trying to work here.”

Murphy couldn’t hide his smirk. “When you’re working, your attention is usually 87.5 % focused on your work, more if no one is distracting you. Four out of five times you don’t even react when spoken to.” He glanced down at the mostly blank page of Orion’s notebook. “Today I’d say your focus is reduced to abysmal 30.9 %.” Never missing a detail, his eyes flicked to the still on-going wrestling match in the pool.

With a sigh, Orion closed his notebook and rested his head on his arms. Murphy was far too observant to be lied to, but he didn’t have to know all the details either.

He indicated their laughing friends with a slight nod of his head. “It is good that our friends are having a great time, it strengthens their bond of friendship. But they are making a lot of noise, it’s bound to draw attention.”

The dismissive sound Murphy was making clearly showed that he wasn’t buying it. “It’s obvious they’re distracting you. But from what I’ve seen, 95.5 % of the time you’ve spent looking at them were devoted to one of the pairs, and while I do have to admit that Andre’s new gold bangles are surprisingly flashy and apparently water resistant, I highly doubt it was him that drew your attention, same goes for Skye, although her hair usually is an eye catcher, I’ll give you that. That leaves Charlie and dear Lizzie, and last time I checked, you weren’t one for redheads, that’s more my thing. Not that I want to say I find Charlie particularly attractive, although some might say so, but I digress. So only one option remains, and as the one and only master of logical deductions, the great Sherlock Holmes, once said, ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable…”

“...must be the truth’,” Orion finished with a sigh. “I know the quote. You're quoting numbers all day every day, do you really feel the need to go into literature as well now?"

Ignoring him, Murphy was grinning from ear to ear, clearly satisfied with his conclusions. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Orion wasn’t answering immediately; he didn’t like Murphy’s prying at all. “Are you done, Detective McNully?”

“Fine, don’t answer me then, I don’t need confirmation,” Murphy snorted. “The stats never lie, my friend.”

Orion rolled his eyes, hoping Murphy wouldn’t delve into another one of his statistical sprees. Although he was right in that his numbers were seldom wrong, Orion himself preferred a more open-minded view of his surroundings to Murphy’s cold, analytical observations; especially, if these observations were directed at his own behaviour.

But of course, Murphy wasn’t deterred. “To the attentive observer, which of course you know that I am, all the facts are there. Eight out of ten times your mood changes for the better when Lizzie enters the room. Seven out of ten times she starts smiling when she looks at you. You two look at each other during shows and soundtracks 46.4 % more often than at the others and yes, I factored out the times when you need to because of the cues she’s giving you, thanks a lot for asking. You hug each other at the end of the shows significantly longer as well. When you leave the backstage area, you’re never leaving together but almost always in close succession.”

The blond sound technician crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Are you really sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”

Orion was more than a little shocked at all the facts Murphy had just thrown at him. “I had no idea it was that obvious.”

Murphy shrugged, a sly smile appearing on his face. “Only to me. You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and my above average observational skills, which of course not everyone possesses, solved 82.3 % of the mystery.”

“What’s with the rest?”

“What I can offer in facts, I sometimes lack in interpreting. Katriona connected the dots.”

“Obviously,” Orion sighed.

“So, what’s the deal with you two? Are you dating?” A frown appeared on Murphy’s face. “I thought you had a clause about this in your contracts. Ethan’s not going to like this.”

Orion vehemently shook his head. “No, you got that wrong. We’re not dating, everything is just like it has always been. We’re just enjoying additional pastimes, which - I’ll give you that - may exceed a regular friendship.”

He looked at Murphy intently. “No one besides you knows about this, and I would appreciate it if it stayed that way.”

Murphy made a non-committal sound. “Of course this doesn’t include Katriona.”

“As if any of us could keep a secret from her.”

“I normally don’t go for absolutes but that’s 100 % true,” Murphy laughed. He looked at Orion curiously. “So how long has this thing between you and Lizzie been going on now?”

“A while,” Orion answered evasively.

“The definition of ‘a while’ ranges from two weeks to up to a year. Judging by my numbers, it’s definitely not the former. Doesn’t sound like a short lived fling to me.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fling,” Orion said; it was surprisingly hard to put what was going on between them into words. “But we’re definitely not emotionally involved with each other. It’s not a matter of the heart, more of a physical extension built on the base of our friendship.”

Murphy leaned back into his wheelchair and grinned. “The old classic, friends with benefits.”

“If that’s the label you want to stick on it.”

Murphy hummed in response, following Orion’s gaze to the pool again. His voice was quieter when he spoke this time. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? We are both on the same page about it.”

“Just saying, things like these seldomly work out as well as they start. Approximately 89.6 % of physical relationships end in chaos, tears or both.”

The memory of his own initial worry emerged in the back of Orion’s mind. He watched as Skye gave Lizzie a final push that sent her toppling from Charlie’s shoulders. She shrieked before she crashed into the water, but was already laughing again when she resurfaced; Orion firmly pushed his concerns away.

“It won’t escalate with us,” he said. “Both of us value our friendship, and the fate of Equinox even more so. We’ve established very clear rules. I appreciate your worries, but they are misplaced.”

“As much as I love rules for the structure they’re bringing, rules can easily be broken,” Murphy said. “Just be careful, okay? Mixing friendship with sex can be a lot of fun but the devil’s in the detail.”

They both watched Lizzie climbing out of the pool and heading over into their direction. When she passed Everett, he pulled down his sunglasses and watched after her, his eyes very slowly travelling up and down her body. He said something to her Orion couldn’t hear, but Lizzie only rolled her eyes, shot something back and continued on her way. Murphy's eyes flicked from her to Orion.

“Aren’t you bothered with Ev hitting on her?”

Orion shrugged. “Why would I? She’s not my girlfriend, and she can perfectly handle herself, as you’ve just seen.”

“That she undoubtedly can,” Murphy laughed, “I’ll better be off now and leave you two alone. I wonder where my beautiful wife is. I haven’t seen her in quite a while now.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #orion amari #murphy mcnully #lizzie jameson #lizion #rockstar au #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Life After Snowpiercer: Just Get Back Home

Summary- 5.9k Curtis Everett x You. The group departs to collect Matt and the others that didnt join the tail end survivors. You are having a hard time letting them leave, but this time you don’t protest. Yona has a warning for Curtis.

Warnings- Violence.

A/N- we are getting to the end of this particular story for Curtis and Y/N. Its a shorter chapter, as I have been kind of distracted, so some of the writing is probably scattered sounding. But i’m not messing around with it anymore.

Chapter 13 / Masterlist

It was quiet outside. Almost too quiet, sometimes it made Curtis feel anxious not hearing Snowpiercer anymore. 17 years of it, he had grown accustomed to some things. But in the time since the crash, he's learned to adapt. He’s watched the group go from starving hopeless individuals to functioning members to a community, seen the possibility to an actual life, maybe one day seeing you with a son or daughter peeking around your leg to run to him. A man can dream right, he thought to himself as his head tilted back to look up at the night sky. The dazzling of stars was unlike anything he had seen before. Even when he was free, running around Boston growing up. The city lights always dimmed them till you could only see them with a telescope. Something he did get to do when he went to the science museum. The long ago thoughts of his childhood happened to make him smile a bit, forgetting what he was going to have to do.

That thought came back though, having to hunt down Matt and the other rogues that still believed in Wilford. They couldn't stop this time, turn back and return. It was time to end this once and for all, which Curtis planned on doing. He would bring back the survivors if there were any and let the victims make a choice. It was the least he could do for letting them get past him to the tail end. Tiredness settled on his shoulders, honestly Curtis wanted this to be over. All he wanted was to live a simple life, a life where he worked hard during the day and let him love you rest of the night.

He knew he should be in bed, not sitting on the roof of the train in the snow. You were just below him, curled up in the bed, probably clutching a pillow to your chest like you did when left to sleep alone. The trek was going to take all his energy as well as the others coming with him. At this moment everyone is safe, it's been a mantra in his mind since he returned earlier. But still his mind won't let him rest, wont settle down enough to let him rest for tomorrow.

A crunch in the snow made him look over his shoulder to see you climbing off the ladder, pulling one of the coats they found while sorting the carrs around you tighter like it could keep out the penetrating freeze. “I would have been down in a few Babygirl.” Curtis said as you lowered next to him, letting your legs dangle over the edge of the train. His arm went around your to pull you into his side, and you smiled up at him.

“Maybe I wanted to see the stars as well Handsome.” Your head went to lay on his shoulder and he relaxed, feeling you against him. The warmth of your thigh pressing alongside his seeped into him, and your hands clasped in your lap, you looking up at the same stars.

“Hard to believe I used to look at these stars at my aunties house. I never thought I would see them again.” Curtis watched your lips curl up in a smile, the small moment of your happiness pushing back those thoughts plaguing him.

“They are something amazing Babygirl. We didn't have stars in Boston. Nothing like this.” He turned his gaze back to what you were looking at and your hand stretched to his thigh, your palm up. Curtis let his hand slide into yours and your fingers grasped through his. He could feel you were worried as well, but remaining quiet about it.

“I don’t know why, but that makes me sad Curtis. A childhood without them? How did you make any wishes…” You drifted off and he chuckled softly, kissing your temple to ease you, touched that you had even thought of that.

“Then we will change that right now Babygirl.” He tightened his arm around your waist and pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you and letting you lean back against his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder, while gazing up. “You make a wish on half of them, I will do the other. That many stars at once, they are bound to come true Babygirl.

You let your hands rest over his that were folded over your midsection and closed your eyes to think of a wish, Curtis hummed Ooh Laa softly in your ear when you made it, tilting your head a bit. “Finished Curtis.”

“Alright, my turn… I wish-” You shook your head and reached over your shoulder to press your hand to his mouth.

“You’re not allowed to say it out loud Curtis. Those are against the rules.” You teased and he pulled his head away from your mouth.

“New world Babygirl, I’m making new rules.” He kissed your fingertips and tilted to kiss your neck deeply. Looking back up, he took a deep inhale, which you felt his chest press into your back before his warm breath washed over your neck. “I wish that after this, we will have the life we have talked about for years. That is all I want in my life.”

Your hold on his hand tightened hearing him, and smiled to yourself because how close it was to yours. Almost exactly the same, you had wished for him to return to you safe so that you two could have the rest of your lives in peace. Tilting your head to look over your shoulder at him, you pressed a kiss to his lips, and letting the tip of your nose slide along the side of his.

“The dream Handsome.” you said and he nodded softly, pressing cold lips back to yours, soft puffs of warm air escaping you both.

“Come on Babygirl, let's go back to bed.” Curtis could see the bit of frost in your eyelashes and the ruddiness in your cheeks. You nodded and shifted back off, moving to a stand. He followed after you and together went back to the warmth of your shared room. Undressing again that night, first you crawled into the bed, and Curtis followed, wrapping you into his arms and tucking his face in your hair to help him relax, finally drifting off after he felt you sink into him, completely relaxed and trusting in his hold.

The next morning was a bit hectic, You were with Yona trying to find enough gear for the people tracking the hostiles. Curtis was with John in the car designated for weapons, trying to figure out how much ammo might be needed, not wanting to leave those they left behind unarmed. There was only so much they were able to locate, and were sure that they all had collected as much as they could from the cars in the back. Granted they wouldn’t have found a lot, but Curtis wasn’t ready to be surprised by an attack from them.

“You and Johanna take the assault rifles.” Curtis insisted while John reached to pick up a long looking gun, wicked and lethal, plus plenty of ammo for the both of them. Curtis for himself took a submachine weapon, shorter, but lethal all the same. Dispersing a few more, the main weapon of choice was the lethal ax’s that were collected. Black handled with steel blades that had only met flesh a few times, the sharpness had yet to dull. Curtis’s hefted one, feeling the familiar weight from the days of the revolution. Memories of how it felt plunging it into soft flesh and the jerking motion of the person struggling, he closed his eyes willing it away. He didn't want to be a killer, but here he was made into a killer.

“I think that's everything Curtis. Y/N, Yona and Tam are in the kitchen packing us rations, and were already outfitted.” John said as he fitted the rifle with a strap and let it rest over his shoulder.

“Go on outside and get everyone ready, I just have one last stop to make.” Curtis instructed and the two men split. John went for the exit outside and Curtis headed for the kitchen. When he stepped in the brightly lit car that smelled extremely good as always. He saw Yona and You packing up a couple of sacks with dried food. Curtis came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist while looking over your shoulder. “Just about done Y/N?” he asked, Yona tying off one bag and you sorting through yours before zipping it up.

“Yea, this should be good for four or five days, I think. Fuck I don’t know, I’m just guessing at all this.” your hands visibly shook a bit and Curtis covered them with his for a moment, letting his thumb brush over your knuckles, whispering in your ear.

“Breathe baby.” Which you did, took a dragging breath. Yona and Tam both picked up another bag and lifted it up, grunting.

“This has more of your basic stuff you might need. But it's heavy.” Yona said, and Curtis reached over, fisting his hand in the top and lifted.

“I can manage it, thanks Ladies. Uh, you mind giving me a moment here with Y/N?”

The women nodded and retreated out of the kitchen, leaving just the two of you alone. Curtis turned his attention to you, and eased you to face him.

“Talk to me Babygirl.” He encouraged, lifting a hand to brush along your cheek and into your hair.

You took a shuddering breath, and shook your head. “It's nothing, nerves. Fuck, I’m scared Curtis, and I really don’t want you to go again. But I know you have to, this has to end once and for all. We cant live with the idea we might be attacked any moment.” All that assurances you felt the night before, now it seemed to have dissipated, your fears brimming at the surface.

Fuck this was worst then before when he had to make you stay, this time you were letting him go, scared as you were. His lips thinned a bit to hold back his own sadness a moment. This was the last time, he swore it.

His hands lifted to cup your face and he dropped his forehead to yours. “Babygirl, I will be back and this will be done. I'm coming home to you. Do you understand me? It's not going to be like last time. This time we are equipped. You trust me right?”

“Of course I do Curtis, but none of us know what's out there. I just… Just come home in one piece. That’s a demand.” You said, twisting your fingers into his jacket and then slipping inside, pressing your palms against his chest while looking up at him. You could feel him under his sweaters, the rise and fall of his chest, the faint thump of his heart.

He dropped his lips to cover yours and your hands fisted in his sweater as you opened to him, pulling yourself in closer because it was going to be some time before you had him back, and you needed to make sure these moments were committed to memory. When it ended, his forehead leaned against yours and he lifted to kiss your forehead. “I will Babygirl.”

Curtis shouldered the bag that was packed, and you both left the train to meet up with the rest of the group waiting just outside of the train's entrance. Others were saying their final goodbyes, and while you watched the others, it really hit you how close everyone has become during this time. Your gaze fell on Edgar, who was hugging Yona quickly before letting go, nodding at whatever she was whispering in his ear and embracing him one last time before splitting away to the others.

“I will be right back Curtis.” You say softly and split from his side to approach Edgar who was working on pulling on a pair of mismatched gloves and retying his bag. “Edgar…” You said and he looked up at you for a second before straightening to be level with you. “I just wanted to tell you to be safe out there.”

You can see his throat bob as he swallows, his eyes darting from you to Curtis who was discussing something, his own gaze once in a while seeking where you were before going back to whom he was talking to. “I plan on it Y/N.” he said when his eyes dropped back to your face and you shuffled a bit, still unsure of what he would tolerate from you. You knew Edgar still felt betrayed from the past few days.

“Please, because I don't know what I would do without you.” You admitted. “Regardless of what's happened in the past, it doesn't change that your like a brother to me, and I don't want to lose another.” Your voice broke and that's when Edgar relented, folding you into his arms.

“Enough of that. I gotta do this. It was my fault he escaped to begin with.” He started and you squeezed him back in a hug before pulling back.

“I don't care how or who is the reason he escaped. Just watch out for each other. Okay? That's all I ask, remember that you and Curtis were once brothers.” You pleaded with him. “For me, please.”

You could see the conflict cross his face, and then resolve, giving you a nod, assuring you that he would. One last embrace and you left Edgar in peace to finish prepping, going back to Curtis’s side.

His head dropped, pressing his lips to your temple. “Is everything good Babygirl?” He asked concerned but you pressed into him.

“Yes, just telling him to make sure he comes home as well.” You respond and Curtis rubs his hand along your back glancing at Edgar. He hated the rift between them, but wanted to respect Edgar and not force himself in his presence.

Yona and Tam approached, dragging Curtis from his inner thoughts as the two women paused before the two of you. They both gave Curtis a hug and their well wishes, you tagged along behind him, smiling reassuringly at those that seemed nervous for the parting group. Timmy broke away from the kids and tugged on Curtis’s jacket, which he squatted down to be face to face with the boy.

“Do you have to go Curtis?” He rubbed at his cheek, and Curtis gave a nod.

“Yes Timmy, I'm afraid so. Matt wont be able to hurt us anymore.”

Timmy was quiet, picking at his coat for a few seconds. “He was a bad man, he hurt me. And you, Yona when the train crashed.”

Curtis nodded, a bit surprised Timmy remembered any of it really, since he was so out of it back then, hardly recognizing any of them when he was pulled out of the train's engine. “Yea he did, he hurt a lot of people, but he wont anymore. I won't let that happen, okay? That's why we are leaving today. But we will be back soon. Come on…” Curtis held out an arm to him, and Timmy pulled in close, hugging around Curtis’s neck and pressing his little body against him in a hug. Your hand dropped to Timmy's back when Curtis stood up, he slid the boy from his hold into your’s which he easily switched to clinging to you, your arm embracing underneath him, and rubbing his back.

“It will be okay Kiddo.” You whisper to him and readjust him to your hip, both of you looking up at Curtis. “Stay safe, come home to us soon.” You said to him, which he nodded. You could see the way he swallowed he was trying to control himself, and you gave a reassuring smile for the both of you.

Of course you would try to make it better. Curtis thought to himself when he saw your face set with a soft smile, and your eyes blink any tears away rapidly. Timmy had his head laid on your shoulder, and how badly Curtis wanted to stay. How much he just wanted this to be over, have this moment daily without the tension. Cupping your face, he kissed you gently, pouring himself into it. Both your eyes closed as your free hand went to cup his face back, and foreheads pressed together for a few seconds before he made himself pull away.

“I love you Curtis.”

“I love you to Babygirl.” He said and turned to Timmy. “Take care of the fort while I’m gone, Okay?” He held up his fist which Timmy nodded and fist bumped him back.

“Sure thing Curtis. I got it.” The little boy's chest swelled with the new responsibility, and Curtis winked at him.

“Why I’m leaving you in charge. See you in a couple days.” Curtis had to force himself to walk away from them, and as he started going the trail they had traveled the day before, the others who joined the group dispersed from the group and followed along behind them. Suddenly a yell admitted from the crowd, and Curtis paused to look over his shoulder to see Yona trudging through the snow to reach him.

“Just get who you need to, then come straight back. Don't go exploring.” Yona’s eyes were wide, and Curtis could see fear in them. He jerked his head forward to lead her away and turned to talk to her quietly, out of earshot of the others.

“What do you mean Yona?” he asked, eyes searching hers for something she knew. Curtis knew she had a talent that not many knew. She had helped him get to Wilford, as well as find You after the train crashed.

Yona shook her head. “Nothing more than a feeling Curtis. But it's bad. Whatever is waiting for you guys there is beyond Matt and the rest. But I can't see it. Whatever it is… they want Matt gone to. Just take him and go. Or else it won't end well.” Yona said in all seriousness and Curtis rubbed at his mouth, baring his teeth in thought.

“Get them and get out?” He asked to reaffirm, and Yona nodded. “Then that's all we will do. We won't have a chance to scavenge for anything anyways once we gather up whoever's left.”

Once satisfied that Curtis understood the warning, she parted back to the train, and Curtis continued on. It was slow going to get back to the car the group had departed from. John was at Curtis’s side, inspecting the remaining footprints and nodded.

“They are scattered all over, but a group definitely headed that way. That's where we should go.” Curtis dug out the map they had collected from Wilford's car, and stretched it along his thigh, the two men checking where they would be headed. John's finger slid along the map, trying to calculate it.

“Five miles, estimating where we are. Here's the cliff half the train went over, and the amount of cars left up top. I'm sure they have explored a bit further than we have since there wouldn't have been much food back here. This is our best bet.” John reasoned, and Curtis had to agree. They really should have explored more but with cleaning up and setting the train into a livable place, there just wasn't the time.

“Alright, we can probably get halfway there before it gets to be nightfall. If we are not exhausted, we can keep going. But I'm suspecting we will be setting up some kind of camp just outside of their range.” Folding the map, he stuck it back in the sack he had set down, and re-shouldered it. The remaining people started to re-shoulder their own bags, and grab their weapons they brought. Squinting out over the white landscape, this time John took the lead, following the tracks left behind.

You watched with Timmy the small group disappear over a snowy mound, and turned your attention to Yona who was slowly making her way back to the train. You set Timmy down off your hip. “How about you go inside and warm up? I will be giving you guys some lessons today.” Which the little boy nodded rather excited now, and sped inside to let the others know you would be doing a class with them. You turned your attention back to Yona, worrying your lip. “Is everything okay?” Your other fear besides Curtis coming across issues was something very physical happening between him and Edward.

Yona gave a nod, wrapping an arm around your waist in a friendly way while you two went inside. “It will be all good, nothing will happen between Curtis and Edgar.” You couldn't hold back the breath of relief that escaped you in that sense. You felt there was more, as Yona went silent and you stopped her as you two were heading towards the kids area.

“Is there more? What are you not telling me Yona?” You whispered a bit harshly, not wanting to alarm any of the others, but you couldn't help the fear that gripped your heart in that moment. Yona shrugged from your hold and shook her head.

“No, Curtis will be back soon. Come on, you promised a lesson today. They are waiting.” She pulled away, shedding some of her clothes to toss into her nearby room before you could stop her again. Unease settled like a rock in your stomach, churning at your nerves. Curtis promised he would come home. That is what you would hang onto.

The later it got, the more anxious you became. Finally you ended the lesson, and went into the kitchen to help Tam with the rest of the cooking to keep yourself distracted.

“You are awful quiet child.” She observed as you started plating food for people coming in. Once it was just the two of you, you shrugged a bit and sighed.

“Worried, fuck I cant get it out of my mind what could happen.” Going over to pluck a tin cup off a shelf and dip it into a giant container of fresh water to sip at. It just made your stomach clench, a wave of nausea sweeping over you.

“I know, I'm worried too Y/N. We all are Child.” She said while she went to make another plate of food and handed it to you. “Go eat because you are no good to any of us if your passing out and I know this is the first thing you have had today. All we can do is trust and pray.” You wrinkled your nose, you had given up praying years ago.

Once you settled down next to Yona and started picking at the food before you, Yona watched you push it around in the bowel. You finally gave up, your stomach having tied itself in knots to be able to eat, and she moved over closer, peeking in your bowel.

“You barely ate anything.” She said with an arched brow. You hugged around your knees in a way of protection.

“Just not hungry, I'm too worried, and what if it all goes wrong Yona? Maybe I should have said something more. I mean what can they possibly find out there? Fuck I just feel helpless. I think this is worst then when they did the rebellion. This time I just let him do off without trying to go with him.” You voiced your fears, and her gaze softened a bit.

“What could you do Y/N? He would be too worried about you and needs to focus. Curtis would want you to take care of yourself.” she encouraged and you reached in your bowel and picked up a piece of beef Tam had cooked that night, popping it in your mouth. But it felt huge, a ball rolling around your mouth as you made the attempt to chew and swallow. “They will be okay, I know these things. When they come back, they will have whoever is left and we will be rid of those threats.”

You swallowed hearing this, the meat now a lead ball in your stomach. “And afterwards?” you asked, almost hopeful, in which Yona shrugged.

“I have feelings, but I can’t read the future Y/N. To unpredictable. We will always be dealing with some hardships.”

You knew she was right, but that part that was desperate for anything good would have taken a lie just then. “I'm going to bed, I'm exhausted.” Was the next words to fall from you as you pushed your way to a stand. Taking care of your dish, you made your way back through the train. Making a quick check on the kids, you bid them all goodnight before going to your room. It seemed so much bigger all alone when you stepped in, flicking on the lights and started to shed off clothing, folding it as you set your outer winter gear to place on the end of the bed. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you glanced at the window, searching the darkened landscape wondering where the group was now. When you narrowed your eyes and squinted, you swore you could just barely see something orange in the distance. Pressing your fingers to your lips to place a kiss there, you reached to touch the glass, the cold from it making you shiver.

You gotta trust Yona Babygirl. You had to smile to yourself hearing that familiar voice, and your head dropped to let it wash over you.

I do… my mind is just running away from me Curtis. Maybe a bit of guilt in not going with you? Fuck if I know, its just different this time. You push to stand and turn the light off. Pulling down the blankets and fold your arms around his pillow to press your face into it, trying to find some rest.

You swore in your mind you felt a dip in the bed, and your hand pressed against your stomach where his would normally, letting your imagination continue.

Just think Babygirl, after this we can think about a future, our future.

You think we really have one?

Of course I do, we wouldn’t have fought so hard if we didn’t have a future worth living in.

And what do you picture for our future Curtis? You wriggled further into the bedding, letting the heat start to make your eyes close, and you could hear Curtis last words in your mind reminding you.

Everything we ever talked about in the tail end Babygirl, all those things we only said in whispers. Home, a family.

The group was quick to arrive at the city. The ice covered buildings loomed up suddenly in the landscape out of nowhere and they milled just outside of it, not wanting to give away that they were there. John, Curtis and Edgar approached closer, using a snowbank to hide behind while they used the scopes on the rifles to scan for any sign of movement. It wasn't long till they saw a lone figure come from around a building and slip inside. “There… the old grocery store. Probably the most food they have had in a month.” John said as he slipped back down between the two men and Curtis clenched his jaw, debating on when to surprise them. Curtis turned to look at Edgar. “Think now or in the morning?”

Edgar took a moment to register what Curtis was asking him, surprised but he stifled his previous anger and contemplated seriously. “Tonight, it will be easier to approach the building in the dark. Give everyone a rest. Then… go in.”

John stayed silent while Curtis nodded in agreement to the man he always considered brother, regardless of all that had happened between them. “We’re made from the dark.” he glanced at the group squatting together yards away, most of them tailenders. People used to living in the cold and darkness, who knew what it took to survive. Pushing up to a stand, he held his hand out to Edgar.

Edgar seemed hesitant to grasp it, eyes darting from Curtis’s outstretched hand and up to his face. Curtis knew Edgar still was angry at him, perhaps even hated him. But when the younger man clasped his hand and let him help him up. It gave him some hope in repairing their lost connection. “Listen Curtis…” Edgar started as John removed himself, heading back to the rest. Edgar looked down at the snow, taking a shuddering breath, his hands clenching at his sides. “I don't know if I can ever forgive you for my mom, not really. I’ve fucking tried, Y/N even explained what was going on.”

Curtis nodded, fully understanding how Edgar was feeling. “I don’t expect you to Edgar, I can’t forgive myself for what happened, I can’t expect the same from you.”

“Just shut up Curtis.” Edgar snapped. “I don’t forgive you, but I probably would have done the same to someone else. So I understand. Maybe in time it will be different. But anyways, let's take care of business alright? I will have your six, like always.” Edgar shrugged and brushed past Curtis, re-approaching the group. Even though they were not fixed, Curtis couldn't help the relief he felt in knowing Edgar would have his back.

They crossed the snowy terrain almost in silence. Most of their gear was left behind and nothing more than the soft crunch of snow under boots gave them away. Curtis approached first, his hand reaching out to ease the door open. Inside was silent, mostly. Towards the back were muffled voices and Johanna eased inside past Curtis to scan the room with the best of her abilities.

With her training, Curtis let her go ahead, following along behind her. The rest of the group spread among the aisles, all of them stalking down in the darkness. A soft glow could be seen from the back, and the closer they approached, the louder the voices got.

“Where did they come from? They couldn't have survived the freeze.”

“Apparently some did. Easy Mate, Jesus don't need to finish ripping my arm off.”

“What are we going to do?”

Curtis hovered near an empty shelf, just out of sight, listening when he heard Matt’s voice, clear as a bell. “Fuck I thought you men were trained to deal with people? No wonder Curtis took over Snowpiercer…” From behind, Curtis felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked over to see Edgar just behind him, mouthing to him. “Are we doing this?”

A nod to Edgar confirmed the attack, and Edgar waved his hand behind him, giving the command to proceed.

Once they stepped out and into sight, those that were around the small fire they kept burning scattered into a groceries backroom, ducking out of sight and yelling to run. Just as predicted they didn't have much for ammunition. A few shots rang out at Curtis’s people, but they proceeded to chase them, a few more shots and then colliding bodies that sent them sprawling into shelves as they attacked one another.

Curtis came out of the darkness like a devil himself, dressed in all black with the snap of his longer coat behind him while dodging around others who were locked in struggles. Edgar had bolted ahead of him, clearly on a mission. It all happened in a split second, but Curtis noticed the flash behind him, the upraised steel rod aiming for Edgar. A flashback of the last time, when Franco’s knife stabbed deep into Edgar's back. This time Curtis did not hesitate, he paused and took aim with the gun he had hanging at his side. Once the broad part of the man's upper back was in his sights, his finger squeezed, steady. It was all over in seconds, the pop sounded among the rest of the chaos and the man lunged forward from the impact, collapsing behind Edgar. He stuttered in confusion, and looked over his shoulder at the body then up to Curtis, giving a nod in thanks then back to scanning the room to find Matt.

Edgar was quick to spot Matt who was trying to hide between aisles, having witnessed Curtis shoot down his companion. Edgar lunged to where Matt disappeared from sight and was able to grasp the back of Matt’s shirt to slam him down onto the cement floor, his boot pressed against his throat and leaning down to hiss at him. “Try running again Matt, I wont lose you a second time.” Matt whimpered and held his hand up in surrender and Curtis’s focus shifted to another who was trying to sneak around the fighting, bolt back out into the store and to freedom.

His strides forward were calm, hiding the rage that had built over time. A rage that simmered from the 17 years of being caged, of how he had to turn into a killer to bring them out of the darkness, how they treated the ones he had left behind, how they used you till you broke for a short period of time. He became more of a predator, hunting his prey, his knuckles turning white around the grip he had on his ax handle. Muscles bunched and burned with effort as he raised the ax and the man flipped around, his eyes wide while he lowered to the ground, sure this was the end. “NO! It wasn’t me, I swear it wasn’t!”

The ax made a downward swing, landing just at his skull, the blade pressing heavily against it, but not splitting into him. Glancing up, he saw Curtis staring him down like he was nothing more then the shit on the bottom of his shoes. Cold blue fire blazed at him while Curtis snarled out. “You are in no position to claim innocence. Your judges lay back at the train, where this all started.” Letting the ax fall broadside to his shoulder, he hooked it behind his neck and dragged him forward. Hooking his hand around his neck, Curtis yanked his captive to his feet and pulled him close, face to face while the man struggled in his hold. “And if Y/N tells me it was you, I will be carving your heart out.” Giving one last disgusted look, Curtis tossed him forward, making him stumble back towards the rest. “Now MOVE!” His gun raised, and a tremor of relief did pour through him.

Once his captive stumbled back and the group stripped those left of anything dangerous, Curtis took count. Only seven were left, out of the mass of men that split in the beginning from the group, only a small amount were left. Matt cowered in the group, but Curtis dragged him out. “Where are the rest of them Matt?”

“What do you think Curtis? Dead, you probably passed them on your way here, buried in the snow.” He spat out, the fight in your brother fading. The others shifted behind him uneasily, but no one rebutted his statement.

“Get moving…” Curtis pushed Matt back to the rest of the men, and the rest gathered the supplies they had brought. Renewed energy rising in them like the sun coming up, a new dawn and another step to finally ending the last of the threat. Edgar pulled up next to Curtis, also watching them start marching back.

“Think this will be the end?” Edgar asked while they both started bringing up the rear, each one dragging an ax and gun at their side in case anyone tried to break away from the group.

“I do… “ Curtis responded, taking in a deep cleansing breath, feeling a heavy weight rise off his shoulders and the sun warm his face.

The group was slow moving, but once they were specs in the distance, a figure moved from another building, and a person moved from out behind a door, lifting a pair of binoculars to there face, counting to themselves quickly and when the glasses lowered, they reached up to readjust a scarf over there face, and duck back inside, securely closing the door behind him.

#curtis everett #life after snowpiercer #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #snowpiercer #curtis everett facfic #snowpiercer fanfic #this has been a labor of love #amber writes #sweater writes

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chaotic-neutral-toga · 4 years

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i’ve spent the entire time since my last post on this and holy fuck i want to fall into a coma

um okay i just thought up a zodiac based story plot thing and uyvbuhyb

okay so there’s this god-like thing but not exactly gods, i guess the “souls” of concepts, maybe?? so like those ones are infinite, not really but like they are, it’s confusing on purpose, but the zodiac are one of a kind each, Thing is they’re kinda destructive. Some do it because they can/want to, some do it because they don’t understand what’s wrong with it (they weren’t really ‘disciplined” or “taught”, so morality is kinda lost on them), and some are more kind, but still dangerous. In classic story fashion, they get sent down to the human world to become accustomed to morals, ethics, and just having a more grounded life. anyway characters

Pisces is autistic (yes im projecting a little) and destruction was the her way of stimming (other than snuggling in a hug with someone). When she gets to Earth, she does things that are “weird” to humans, since out of all of the zodiacs, she has the hardest time grasping the concept of the human world besides stuff she already knew(water and other stuff her sign rules). She’s fairly kind and compassionate, but has no tolerance for liars or anyone that gets on her bad side, which is a side even Aries sweats over. She likes puns (once they’re explained to her), and never understands innuendos or dirty jokes unless they’re really obvious. [Colors for her design: Mauve, Lilac, Violet, Sea Green. Closest Relationships: Virgo and Taurus. Human Name: Clementine.] Panromantic Demisexual

Aries is a bit reckless/destructive, to the point of idiotic sometimes, but he really does have the best intentions with most things he does. You can’t really blame someone for not knowing what they shouldn't do when they were never taught they had limits or boundaries that could be pushed. He can be bossy at times, but it’s usually because he knows his fellow Zodiacs well, and he can tell when they need someone to tell them what to do before they end up arguing over different ideas. Fire is the element he rules over, therefore it was one of the few human concepts he knew, so he took a quick liking to smores; it’s a sweet thing made over fire, what’s not to love? When he’s not riled up over something, he’s just a really passionate and affectionate friend. He identifies as an Androgynous Trigender, sometimes feeling like a boy, sometimes a girl, and sometimes agender, while preferring to use he/him pronouns. [Colors for his design: Red why the fuck does he only get 1 color wtf is this inequality. Closest Relationships: Libra and Leo. Human Name: Everett.] Aromantic Asexual(will kiss the homies uwu)

Taurus is pretty calm, but they can and will destroy you(verbally). They speak their mind and try their best to be honest, even if the truth is painful or undesirable. When dealing with problems, he keeps a straight face(facade or not), but lets his emotions out when it’s over (aka pouting as Cancer give them calming head pats). Because they’re one of the only ones who took to cooking (and one of the quickest to become relatively easily-adjusted to Earth), at times, they tend to be in a sort of parental role when interacting with the others. They can get frustrated with too much stress (aka more calming head pats), but they can usually work through it well enough. When it comes to love, he becomes flustered surprisingly easy, though this is technically hypothetical, as they haven’t encountered any romantic situations yet. Upon coming to Earth, Taurus discovered he’s allergic to reptiles, especially snakes, which makes his friendship with Scorpio, who will not give up his precious boop noodle, a bit rocky. He uses he/they pronouns. [Colors for his design: Green, Pink. Closest Relationships: Scorpio and Cancer. Human Name: Beau, pronounced Bo.] Gay

Gemini was probably the most optimistic of the bunch when they were first sent to Earth; she isn’t reckless, but she does live for the thrill. She has fun watching drama as long as it’s just harmless bickering, and she’ll stop any serious fights. She's a bit slow at reading the air sometimes, which is one of the few things that make her feel insecure. Even if she comes off as prideful or uncaring, she truly does treasure all her friends, and would move mountains for them. She is an ADHD Lesbian, so she has the awful pun of GA(Y)DHD. [Colors for her design: Light-Green, Yellow. Closest Relationships: Sagittarius and Aquarius. Human Name: Mikaela.] Lesbian

Virgo has a somewhat obvious crush on Pisces- not everyone knows, but it’s not rocket science for the observant ones- and Pisces thinks he’s just being a really great friend.(Virgo: I am stoic and distant and won’t open my heart to anyone. Pisces: Hi! Virgo: FUCK-). It’s easy for him to stress or obsess over something, and not give himself any room for imperfection. He’s one of the less outwardly destructive zodiacs, but internally, he tries to do too much and puts too much pressure on himself, which is never a good thing to do. Sometimes due to stress, he’ll isolate himself for a bit, but he gets very touch-starved very easily.. which makes it even more confusing how the snugly Pisces doesn't notice his feelings. [Colors for his design: Grey, Beige, Pale-Yellow. Closest Relationships: Pisces and Cancer. Human Name: Ezra.] get em boys, we found a Hetero

Libra is a quiet one, usually collecting information from afar before interjecting. He likes being helpful since he’s aware that he sometimes overthinks interaction. Asking him questions can be confusing, as he usually answers with simple “yes”’s and “no”’s. He enjoys reading fairytales; no real reason, he just likes them. He has Sensory Processing Disorder, which simultaneously makes him the dad and the baby of the group. [Colors for his design: Pink, Green. Closest Relationships: Aries and Sagittarius. Human Name: Libra, which is luckily an actual greek name.] Bi

Leo is a rowdy girl to say the least. She’s loves just horsing around with her friends, usually in the manner of play-fighting and tackle hugs. If you didn’t guess, she’s one of the more destructive Zodiacs, even on Earth. She denies ever doing things when confronted, though it doesn’t work most of the time (”Whaaat, I didn’t break that vase, that was Aries, right bro?” “Hey, don’t pin this on me!” “BRO-”). She is extremely loyal to the people she cares for, which could cross into naivety if she chose the wrong person as her friend. While she definitely isn't the motherly type, if one of her friends really needs to be comforted, she’ll sit them on her lap and stroke their head(she stronk owo). Though normally upbeat, she becomes somber in grim-looking situations, to the point of pessimistic. [Colors for her design: Gold, Yellow, Orange. Closest Relationships: Aquarius and Gemini. Human Name: Amaterasu.] Demiromantic Asexual

Scorpio has a pet boop noodle(baby ball python) that he almost stole before Taurus payed for it, which is when they discovered Taurus is allergic. They’re an overall cold and distant person, but they’re not completely shut-off; they just have a hard time warming up to people. Because of this, he holds grudges for a long time when his carefully-placed trust is betrayed. He seems to sometimes just appear and disappear during discussions with anyone noticing until he suddenly speaks up or they want to talk to him(spoiler alert: he’s just quiet). He’s very cute and peaceful when sleeping. [Colors for his design: Scarlet, Red, Rust. Closest Relationships: Taurus and Cancer. Human Name: Phoenix.] Arospike Aceflux

Cancer is very much a big sister to most, if not all, the Zodiacs. She has a caring air about her and can adjust to suit the boundaries of her friends. She herself is quite sensitive- though no one’s ever seen her like that- and she never wants her friends to feel that way. Besides that, she takes great interest in human pleasantries, such as sweet food, cameras, and lullabies. While she prefers to be the mediator during fights, if someone, say, insulted her friend and wouldn’t back off, she would lash back with a stone cold fury; the shock value alone gives her an advantage in those situations. [Colors for her design: White again with only one color wtf im adding my own, Pale-Orange, Various Yellows. Closest Relationships: Capricorn and Taurus. Human Name: June.] Questioning Asexual

Sagittarius is one of those aggressively positive people, saying what they want with no filter. They don’t take any shit from anyone, no matter who they are. She’s very free-spirited, but she’s not unguided; she knows what she wants and when she wants it. She’s never really hurt by anything, brushing and laughing things off almost immediately. She can get quite impatient, to the point of childishly whining. I’d bet 50 bucks that she was the first Zodiac to “discover” alcohol. [Colors for her design: Blue, Deep Purples, Browns. Closest Relationships: Gemini and Aries. Human Name: Nova.] Butch Grey-Aromantic Homosexual/Femmesexual

Aquarius is an analytical and selfless individual. They approach solutions to situations practically and objectively, even if their heart tells them otherwise. They keep their emotions bottled up most of the time, and if they’re doing something, there’s a high chance they’re doing it for someone else. Before, that was okay, since it was just the Zodiacs; but on Earth, it makes her a bit of a doormat. She’s one of the more morally-misguided Zodiacs, and she can’t really identify when something is criminal. She has a hard time remembering that she can’t say things like “human pleasantries” or call people insignificant compared to herself. They like being alone a lot, but they’re not antisocial. [Colors for her design: Light-Blue, Silver. Closest Relationships: Leo and Sagittarius. Human Name: Aqua no she did not try.] Aromantic Asexual(will not kiss the homies u~u)

Capricorn is pretty much “i’m surrounded by idiots”, but they’re his idiots and he knows he loves them. He doesn't look anything special, but he can and will throw you across the room if you fuck with him or his idiots, especially when he’s tired. He is peak sarcastic bitch and has pretty solid bullshit detector. If one of the Zodiacs is asleep where they shouldn’t be or they’re just leaving somewhere, he usually hoists them over his shoulder. He’s generally reserved but the Hug Pile™, or really extreme amounts of platonic affection in general, make him really soft; half because he’s surprised that they honestly care for him that much. [Colors for his design: Brown, Black, Grey, Yellow, Yellow-Orange. Closest Relationships: Taurus and Cancer. Human Name: Kai.] Aromantic Asexual(will be kissed by the homies owo)

holy fukcing shit is that it. am i finally fucking done. oh sweet jesus im crying this took me so fucking long

sorry if anyone was worried about me, i’m fine. Art, drabbles, and headcanons for this are allowed, but please link this post and/or tag me(or just send it in asks). i’ll try to be productive on this, tho itll probably be in the form of mini scenarios and incorrect quotes.

Here are the songs that kept me from kms while i made this: Lost One’s Weeping by Neru, Namine Ritsu-Error by kyaami, Yukune Ruko-I Don’t Wanna Know by Narcissus, Nakakapagpabagabag by Dasu, Madness of Duke Venomania Eng Sub by IkuSuperbia, v flower-Close to You by kyaami, My Nocturnal Serenade by YOHIO, Len’s Growl-Ghost Rule by Teto Chan!, Fukase English-Never Gonna Give You Up, Fukase English-Your Reality.

pls feed me validation on this i tried so hard my brain hurts

#my story #big post #zodiac #zodiac story #human zodiac

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