#on me again I get to drop em to the pavement. and I get buddies who look after me. and nobody gets to touch me agin when I dont want it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chilling-seavey · 3 years

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idk if you've already been asked this one, but a blurb of Daniel proposing to Avalon? (i loved the first date one! <3)

Emma. You cured my burnout. I stayed up late to write this because it inspired me so. I thank you with every part of my heart omghgh

A/N To anyone reading this, please let me know if you want to be added or removed to my qtvtp series taglist! :)

February 14, 2019

Avalon honestly forgot it was Valentine’s Day until she walked into the kitchen to find two dozen roses on the island framed in three mustard yellow and navy blue Louis shopping bags and Daniel standing behind the spread with a cocky smirk and a mug of coffee in hand.

He took a sip, raising a casual eyebrow to her, “Morning, honey.”

Avalon scoffed with a tired smile at the over-the-top surprise and shuffled over to him to kiss him good morning. The feeling of his lips on hers had her smiling ever wider and she slid her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Daniel whispered, scratching his fingertips gently across her back with the hand that wasn’t holding his cup of coffee.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” Avalon smiled sweetly, leaning up to kiss him again.

They lingered there a moment before Daniel was stepping back, “I’m late for work. I’ll be home in good time tonight, okay? We have reservations for an early dinner at 5 at BOA.”

He kissed her again.

“What about these bags?” Avalon asked.

“Open ‘em. Pick something to wear tonight.” Daniel said with a smile, kissing her again before he was tossing back the rest of his coffee and set the empty mug in the sink.

Avalon shuffled shyly over to the spread on the counter and peeked into one of the large bags as Daniel got his shoes on and his keys from the bowl by the door. She watched him gather his things before he was at her side again, pulling her close by her waist, and left her with a strong kiss to her lips.

“I love you.” he said, barely waiting for her answer as he headed for the door.

“I love you!” Avalon called after him just as the front door closed behind him.

She stood in silence for a moment, still having yet to have even woken up all the way, and sighed. She picked up the heavy bouquet of red roses and gave them a good sniff before taking them with her to find a vase from under the sink. The clothing bags sat waiting on the counter as she trimmed each flower stem and set them neatly in the glass vase, her patience more impressive than her curiosity. She always liked flowers. She could do without expensive clothes.

Even still, in the quiet of the house, Avalon took the bags to the master bedroom and set them on the desk in the corner. She straightened out the white sheets over the king size bed and made it up with the few decorative pillows before staring to open her gift. Two dinner dresses were pulled from one bag and draped over the end of the bed: one white with a black collar and one red with a white bodice. The second bag held a pair of black pumps and a black clutch purse. The smallest bag held two different sets of jewelry – a necklace and earrings – one set in silver and one set in rose gold.

Avalon admired the silver set and tilted the box slightly to watch how the morning sun glittered over the diamonds through the glass doors. She snapped the lid shut and set it down on the bed with the rest of the items. A price tag was left behind on the red dress and the number $5,050.00 stared up at her. She exhaled deeply and flipped the tag over so she didn’t have to look at it.

She hated when people bought her things – especially Daniel – because could never measure up…it made her feel like such a burden. But it was a gift and he loved to buy her things and see her in the clothes he would pick out for her so, after lunch, she got herself into the red dress.

Daniel’s smile when he came home and saw her all dolled up in the pretty things he bought her was enough to make it worth it. She was finishing up her makeup in the ensuite and he came up behind her to lean down and kiss her cheek.

“You look gorgeous, honey.”

Avalon leaned back slightly to look up at him with a soft smile, “Thank you.”

With one more kiss, he left her to finish getting ready and to tidy himself up from work. In enough time to make their reservation – Daniel was hurrying as to not be late for something for once which was a nice change for Avalon – they left the house and drove farther into the city. BOA was the most expensive steakhouse in Los Angeles and was visited by many different celebrities. Since their reservation was so early – the sun had yet to set even – they beat the paparazzi to the doors which was a relief and Daniel passed the keys to the valet and led his girlfriend inside without trouble.

They ate together in the dim romantic lighting of the steakhouse, hands brushing from across the table and as they eventually waited for their dessert, Daniel traced the curves of her hand with his finger. She just stared at him; his fading blonde dye admits the roots of brown, his collarbones that peaked out of the top of his unbuttoned collared shirt below the white tee he had underneath, and the perfect cupid’s bow that made up his lips. He was that most beautiful thing she ever saw.

They shared a dessert and Daniel paid the bill – with a generous tip – and they were out of the restaurant and in the car just as the sun was starting to dip behind the buildings of the city.

Avalon leaned over the centre console to kiss him, “Thank you for dinner.”

“Of course.” Daniel smiled at her as they did up their seat belts. “But I have one more Valentine’s Day surprise.”

“Oh God. Alright.” Avalon chuckled.

“The beach?”

“I’d love that.” she grinned. She always loved the beach. Daniel knew this about her well.

They drove the few minutes away to the shore hand in hand, soft music playing through the radio as the past the bustling city streets and plentiful other couples enjoying the early hours of the evening together. Daniel found a parking spot just a bit away from Santa Monica Pier and turned off the car.

“It’s a surprise so I have to blindfold you.” he said.

“Oo. Okay.” Avalon giggled.

Daniel opened the glove box, chuckling at her little lip bite, and pulled out a silk blindfold. She helped him carefully pull it down over her nicely done hair and set it over her eyes. When he kissed her and she startled, he knew it was doing its job.

He got out of the car and hurried around the other side before opening her door for her and helped her step out on the pavement.

“My heels won’t walk well in sand.” Avalon said hesitantly as she balanced herself on his arm.

“Step out. I brought you flats.” Daniel instructed, bending down to help her change her shoes quickly.

“My prince charming.” Avalon teased.

He only chuckled, keeping steady so she could hold her hands on his shoulders while he slid her feet into the black flats instead. The heels were tossed onto the floor of the Tesla and then the door was closed. She was blind to her surroundings but Daniel silently greeted the little camera crew and photographer who were hired to meet them there for that exact time and he started to lead her out of the parking lot and onto the sand.

“I’m nervous.” Avalon whispered and she clung a bit tighter onto Daniel’s arm with both hands.

“Nothing to be nervous about, Aves.” Daniel replied softly, walking slowly to let the camera crew could tuck a microphone in his back pocket of his black jeans just so the audio could be picked up more easily.

When the set up came into view was when his nerves started to set in a little but he only lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her soft skin. She leaned into him as they walked.

The sun was setting almost to the horizon which cast a beautiful romantic orange glow over the sand and illuminated in perfect shadows the seven large black letters that spelt out Marry Me at the end of a makeshift aisle framed in rose pedals and plentiful candles. A few strangers stood a ways off to watch, some with their phones out to record the scene, but the only sound was the gentle crashing of waves on the shore. Daniel and Avalon fell to a stop at the front of the little aisle.

“Trust me?” he asked against her ear.

She nodded.

“Okay.” he took his arm from her and moved away a few steps so he was standing at the end of the aisle, right in front of the letters. “You can look.”

Avalon hesitated a moment but she reached for her blindfold and carefully pulled it off. Daniel took a deep breath as her eyes adjusted to the light and she processed what she was looking at. Her mouth fell open but also broke into a little smile, hands reaching to cover her grin in surprise.

“Come here, honey.” he called softly, holding out a hand to her.

Avalon walked slowly towards him, taking in the rose petals and twinkling candles and the setting sun over the ocean behind them. It was beautiful. The gentle breeze from the water ruffled her hair and the angle at which she stood had the sun making her cheeks glow rosy and sparkled in her brown eyes. It felt like he was falling for her all over again; that same nervous gleeful uncertainty that filled his heart on their very first date.

“Avalon Rose,” Daniel whispered, sliding his fingers into hers and brought her hands up to kiss tenderly as he stared longingly into her eyes, “my one true love. You have shown me what living is…what commitment is…what love is…and endless other lessons that I thought I already knew before I met you. Truth is, I didn’t know anything before you…my story starts with you and I want it to end with you. You’re my world, my therapist, my cuddle buddy, my tone deaf music connoisseur, my partner in crime, my true love, my forever, and my always.”

Avalon’s bottom lip trembled as she listened to his whispered words of adoration, staring into his light eyes like she had every single day before that. He was home to her.

Daniel dropped one of her hands to reach into his pocket and pulled out a Tiffany’s blue box. He opened it as he got down on one knee, revealing the impressively sized pear shape diamond ring that sparkled in the evening sun.

“You’re it for me, Ava. You’re my entire future, baby. I can’t see life with anyone but you by my side. Will you marry me?”

“Yeah.” Avalon breathed without even a second of hesitation, nodding quickly, “Yeah, of course, Daniel.”

He stood up as she pulled him in for a kiss and he wrapped her arm in his arms and lifted her off the sand as the people nearby applauded. She smiled shyly into his neck as he set her back on her feet and he only beamed with pride as he slid the ring on her finger.

“Beautiful.” Daniel whispered, tucking her hand in his to kiss her fingers and then dipped down to kiss her lips, “You’re beautiful.”

“I love you.” Avalon breathed, pulling him in to keep his lips on hers for a few more lingering kisses.

“I love you.” Daniel replied easily, wrapping her up close again. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tag List: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx @stuffofseaveyy @hopinglimelight @tempus-ut-luceant @br4nd1s @xkelsev @hiya-its-amber @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @bessonbae

#🔪#daniel seavey #why dont we

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huntertales · 3 years

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Part Three: There’s Some Things You Can’t Fix. (Heaven Can’t Wait S09E06)

Episode Summary: When Dean gets a call from Castiel about a possible case dealing with spontaneous human combustion, the older Winchester decides to investigate–on his own. The reader decides to tag along. She doesn’t take no for an answer when Dean shares his odd hesitations on letting her work on a hunt with Castiel. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,502.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Cas watched from the passenger side window as Nora’s house slowly pulled up into view. The knot in the pit of his stomach began to tighten at how time was slipping by quicker than he anticipated to the big moment. His very first date. At first he was unsure of the proper reason why his palms felt so sweaty and his stomach started to feel strange. It wasn’t quite queasy like the time he ate some bad food when he was homeless and was forced to survive off of scraps he found in the dumpster. But he didn’t quite feel up to his normal self. When he told you and Dean about his sudden symptoms, your shared reactions weren’t ones he was expected. The man rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion while you laughed it off.

He didn’t understand what was so funny about what he said. Cas was genuinely worried there was something wrong with him, maybe he caught something from a customer and he only began to notice it now. He thought it was enough concern to cancel his date, in fear he might get Nora sick as well. She never missed a day of work since he started there. Humans were infamously notorious for catching all sorts of viruses and diseases. What he was feeling wasn't a stomach bug, it was something vastly different. Cas should've learned by now that emotions can change how a person feels psychically.

"It's like butterflies in your stomach. You're excited, but you feel like you're about to pass out from nervousness." You explained almost perfectly about how Cas was feeling at the moment. "It's how I used to feel whenever Dean was around before we got together. When you're finding your feelings for someone, it gets...complicated.”

"But I'm not in love with Nora." Cas said. He started to grow even more confused at how truly complicated it was to be a human. There were so many more things than keeping after yourself. Not that relationships and emotions were strange territory, there was just so much more out there he never experienced before. He realized he was only just beginning to learn what it was all like. "At least, I don't think so."

"It's most likely just last minute nerves. Maybe even a little crush. No need to go on proposing to her during dessert." You reassured the man. "Just go in there and be yourself."

"Okay." Cas inhaled a deep breath to try and calm his nerves before placing a hand on the passenger side door. "Thanks, Dean."

"Cas, wait. I can't let you do this." Dean managed to stop the other man before he made a grave himself. Cas sat with his foot standing on the pavement and the car door opened a few inches. The poor guy thought Dean was going to try and stop him from meeting up with Nora, thinking it was a bad idea after all. But that wasn't the cause of concern for Dean. He was looking out for his friend. His attention was focused on the tacky blue vest Cas was still wearing. "You're gonna wear that on a date?"

Cas put his foot back into the car and shut the door again, having a feeling there was something Dean was hinting around. First impressions were everything. Cas wanted to make the very best. He glanced down at his clothes to see what the problem might be. He always kept a tidy appearance. There was not a single stain on his outfit, maybe a piece of lint he overlooked. He didn't understand what the problem was, or how he could fix it.

“This is all I have, Dean.” Cas confessed.

"You know, Dean is right. Uh...we don't have time for you to change." You thought to yourself for a moment about what Cas could do to try and spruce up his appearance a bit better. You should've forced Dean to let Cas borrow some of his clothes. But you would just have to work with what you had. You tilted your head to the side and bit your lip for a brief second to try and think. "Okay. Lose the vest."

“What are you—”

"Lose the vest. Come on. Fork it over." You stopped Cas from trying to put up a fight about the stupid article of clothing. Thankfully he complied and handed over the bulk of fabric over to you from the front seat. "That's a little better. And now your buttons—why don't you unbutton it?”

Sometimes Cas took things a little too literal. The man started to undo the first two buttons of his shirt like you suggested, but kept going with a third one and almost undid another before Dean stopped him. "That's far enough, Tony Manero. Save the strip tease for Nora."

"All right. Let me take a look." You leaned forward in your seat to try and get a better look at Cas with his slightly new appearance. You took a few seconds before you deemed him good enough to head off on his date. "Yeah. Good.”

"Listen to me. There's a few things you need to know." Dean felt the need to give the man some advice if he wasn't to make a fool of himself, more than he probably already would. "Always open the door for her, okay? Ask a lot of questions. They like that. And...oh, if she's happy to go dutch, she's lying."

"Okay, that's enough." You interrupted the man before he could give anymore unsolicited information that might hurt Cas more than help. You lightly slapped a hand on Cas' shoulder and offered a supportive smile. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Cas inhaled a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart before finally gathering the courage to open up the passenger side door again and step out. You and Dean watched as he finally made his way to Nora's front door, finding this situation sort of like dropping off your kid on their first date. There was a sort of innocence and adorable factor that made you smile. Dean offered a supportive thumbs up when Cas stopped at the closed front gate and looked over his shoulder to see the both of you were still there. Cas returned the gesture before opening up the gate and continued heading toward the house.

You smiled to yourself when Cas managed to make it to the front door without backing out. He adjusted his appearance one more time to make sure he looked presentable and reached a fist up to knock on the door. However he stopped when he realized something. Wasn't it customary to bring dates flowers as a romantic token? What if she was expecting them? Before he could begin to panic, luck seemed to have been on his side tonight.

Cas spotted a blooming rose bush conveniently right next to the porch. He remembered Nora saying about how she liked gardening in her free time. Red roses were also a symbol of love. He found a pair of clippers and snipped himself a single rose, Nora wouldn't know the difference. Dean snickered to himself when Cas’ small touch he added on his own caused the poor man to prick his fingers when he cut the single flower off. It seemed Cas might not be doomed after all.

"I think it's our cue to leave." You said. You slipped out from the backseat and back into the passenger side when you saw Cas waving you off, wanting you both to get out of here before Nora realized he was here. You smiled at the sight. "Our boy's all grown up."

You waved back at Cas as Dean turned the engine back on before either one of you could embarrass your friend in front of his date. However before Dean could pull away from the curb, he swiftly put his foot on the brake when he saw a truck start backing up when it seemed to have come out of nowhere. Dean slowly started to grow frustrated when the car started to get dangerously close to the Impala. Before there could be an accident, he managed to get the driver's attention. You waved one final time at Cas before the Impala drove off down the street and into the night, all before disappearing from sight.

+ + +

A few minutes into driving after dropping off Cas on his date, the silence that fell over the car was interrupted by your phone going off. Your brows furrowed in confusion as to who might be trying to get in contact with you. You partially hoped it wasn't Cas. Things couldn't have gone south that quickly. When you spotted the name on the I.D. of the sheriff you had been working on the case with together, you answered it after the third ring.

"Now, here's a wrinkle. Our first crime scene, the married couple? Full analysis of the spray came in from the lab." The sheriff got a strange lead that he thought you might want to hear about that benefited both parties. And it cut down on the list of suspects to just one possible lead. "Turns out it only contains the wife's DNA."

"The husband's still out there." You mumbled, connecting the dots on your own. You thanked the sheriff for the tip before ending the call. You turned your gaze over to Dean, who had been trying to split his attention from you and the road. "We got to go by the police station. I think I know who’s behind all of this.”

+ + +

Figuring out the face to the angel who was causing all of these deaths was only part of the puzzle you needed to solve in order to wrap up this hunt before someone else could get hurt. You and Dean stopped by the station to have a talk with the sheriff to hear out what else he had found out from the new lead. You looked through the documents of the wife's death certificate and the typed up police file about the actual reported crime, hoping to find something that might help pinpoint a direction to help you solve this hunt once and for all.

"He was already a bit screwy, but then he found religion. She was a hard-line atheist, no peach herself. When he got himself obsessed with this Buddy Boyle whack job, an already bad marriage got worse." The sheriff went on about the couple that landed with the wife dead, and the husband still missing. You scoffed ever so quietly to yourself at the familiar sounding name. It all was starting to make sense now of how this mess came to be. "Kept telling her to 'let God in.'"

"Buddy Boyle." Dean repeated the name of a preacher he heard before. You glanced up from the documents and rolled your eyes from the trouble he was causing you lately on an already crappy situation that was spiraling out of control."That explains it."

“Explains what?” The sheriff asked, feeling out of the loop from what the man was talking about.

"Nevermind. Uh, let's see." You focused your attention back to the documents as you shuffled around the papers to try and find something actually useful. You stumbled upon a photograph that made you do a double take of the happy couple. You pointed a finger to the vehicle in the background. "Is that his truck?"

"Yep." The sheriff casually answered.

You remembered where you saw the truck before, right when you were leaving Nora's house, the one that nearly backed into the Impala. You and Dean shared the same worried expression, coming to the possible conclusion to the worst possible outcome. Cas was in danger. If you and Dean weren't quick enough to get back to him, he might be next.

+ + +

Trying to understand how a human deals with the influx of emotions was a complicated and difficult thing without experiencing what it was like to be one first hand, and even then it was still confusing. The smallest and kindest gesture can make someone burst with happiness, while a slight inconvenience can ruin one’s day. Cas learned slowly over time that he was just like everyone else on this planet. Nothing special without his grace, living day to day just trying to survive. And while it might seem depressing and bleak at times, it wasn't always like that. Cas learned that life wasn’t so bad being a measly human. But his brother didn’t want to see past the pain.

His brother wanted to fix these humans and make the world a better place like he did in heaven, the place that was no longer. All the angel could feel was the endless sorrow in the world. An endless melody that called out to him, begging for relief. Cas was calling to him the loudest. The man might have been warded from all angels, but his pain was like a beacon shining down on him. It made him stick out like a sore thumb for his brother to find him and put the poor human out of his misery once and for all. But Cas wasn’t a feeble creature. He might have been without his grace to protect himself, he still had some tricks up his sleeve to keep himself alive long enough for his friends to come to his aid.

The backdoor to Nora’s house burst open without warning, causing the conversation between Cas and his brother about his life choices to be mometairly paused, the angel wondering who was trying to ruin a special moment. It seemed you and Dean figured out on your own who was to blame for the recent deaths around town. The both of you came charging in with your angel blade in hand swinging up in the air, but you were no match against the more powerful being who easily flung you across the room.

Dean landed roughly against the wall and into some of the baby's things, none of which broke his fall. You slid across the floor and into a dining room chair that caused you to hit your head against the wood. The blow was enough for you to forget for a moment about the blade. You tried brushing off the pain and placed the hand that had been holding the weapon to your now throbbing head. When the pain subsided enough for you to open up your eyes and figure out where the angel might have gone, you noticed his attention drifted away from Cas and to you for some reason. A bad feeling settled into your stomach at the way he was just staring...observing you.

“What happened to you?” The angel whispered to only felt himself. You propped yourself up on your elbows as you stared up at the angel, wondering what kind of pain you must be giving off. Your life has been filled with nothing but misery and pain. But it was a pain that you couldn't see yourself. "The sorrow you're going through, it's strong. Stronger than I've felt with most. The guilt is the worst of all, isn’t it?”

Your expression shifted into a hardened expression at the things he was saying. You tried to play dumb, hoping you might be able to buy yourself some time while you figured out how to get out of this. "What the hell are you talking about?”

“You humans try so hard to hide the pain, but I can see it so clearly. You’re suffering. All of you are.” The angel went on without going into proper details about the sort of pain you were feeling at the moment. The kind that you buried deep underneath the surface for no one to see, not even yourself. A sort of sympathetic smile crossed his face at the trauma he felt off of you. "You're denying yourself the truth.”

Dean used the angel’s distraction as a way to get the upper hand and finish this before anyone else died at the hands of unwanted mercy, or to spill any secrets that needed to remain buried deep down. He slid the blade across the floor and over to Cas, who swiftly grabbed the weapon and did what needed to be done. Killing any of his siblings never got any easier. Whenever he was forced to kill one of his siblings, it never got any easier when the numbers of their kind dwindled over the years from war and tragedy. But he couldn’t let his brother keep going on this path, there would be no end to his mercy. You quickly shielded your eyes from the sudden burst of white light when Cas plunged the blade into the angel’s chest, ending his brother's mercy killing with one of his own.

+ + +

Turns out Cas’ evening plans turned into an accidental miscommunication between Nora and himself. She was going on a date—just not with him. Cas spent the night with Tanya, Nora’s infant daughter who was now peacefully sleeping after the commotion that went down in the kitchen not too far from her nursery. While Dean took a call from his brother outside, you helped Cas tidy things up and take care of the baby’s fever that was starting to worry him. With his grace gone, Cas couldn’t fix humans anymore with a simple touch to the forehead. Luckily for him, you had a few tricks up your sleeve to help.

“It’s probably because she’s teething. An easy fix.” You explained to him. You spotted a few teeth poking through the baby’s gums when she let out a yawn at how she was being kept up past her bedtime. “Why don’t you go to the medicine cabinet and see if there’s any baby aspirin? That should do the trick.”

You took Tanya out of Cas’ arms without an ounce of hesitation and began to slowly rock her back and forth when she started to grow fussy. You occupied the baby while Cas departed to the bathroom to hunt down the medicine you told him to get. He came back a minute later to see you softly cooing at the baby with smiling praises of how adorable she was. Despite never having had a child of your own, and the loss of one, you fell into the motherly figure naturally. You were a caregiver to him and the boys, even to strangers you never met before. The sight of you holding Tanya made his heart break.

When you saw the man was back with the medicine, you grabbed the medicine and proceeded to read the instructions that would bring the fever right down. Cas continued to watch as you handled Tanya with ease, acting naturally as she was your own. He realized that this was both of yours first moment alone together since everything happened unfolded and him leaving the bunker. There was so much he wanted to say to you.

“You’re very good with her.” Cas wasn’t sure if what he said was the right thing. It had only been a short time ago since everything unfolded. Wounds such you had dealt with might still be sore. And what his brother had said about you burying it deep down was something you would most likely do. Sometimes that wasn’t healthy. Humans need to talk about their problems, or at least give people who they loved reassurance they weren’t dealing with these problems alone. A small smile crossed your face at the compliment. “I...I also wanted to apologize to you.”

Your face scrunched up slightly in confusion at the sudden shift in conversation topic. “What for?”

“For not being there for you when you needed me the most. If I learned anything about being a human from you and the Winchesters, it’s that you’re there for the people you care about in crisis.” Cas said. “Dean called me from the hospital and told me what happened after you stopped doing the trials. It’s...I wish I was there.”

You fell silent for a moment as your expression shifted into one that made Cas suddenly regret bringing it up in the first place. You put Tanya down back into her crib and turned back to him. A heavy sigh fell from your lips at what you were about to admit.

“Don’t tell Dean, but...I guess there was some truth to what the angel said back there. I’ve been beating myself up about it for weeks now about what happened. Sometimes I lie in bed and think about what it might be like if things turned a bit differently.” You said. You turned your attention to the sleeping Tanya and smiled to yourself for a brief second about how adorable she looked. “But feeling guilty over it won’t change the past. We can’t change anything about what we did. That’s something you’re going to learn pretty quickly about being human. All we can do is keep moving forward and make best with what we got, not what we lost.”

Cas listened to your words of advice and nodded his head. He was starting to understand that no matter who he was, angel or human, no one was perfect. Mistakes were going to be made. It was just the nature of living. “You know, you don’t make such a bad human, after all.” Your compliment to the man made him chuckle for the first time tonight.

You made your way to the door when Tanya's quiet snores came from the crib. Cas felt the need to return your compliment with one of his own. "If you ever are given the chance to be a mother, I think you would be perfect." He said. "You're a kind person, Y/N. You deserve the happiness that you seek. It might not come soon...but hopefully one day."

“Thanks, Cas.” You mumbled. You didn't know why, but the thought of becoming a mother made you suddenly grow a little bit sad at the prospect you might not have all of this. You talked about how you thought you never would or want to have a child, but deep down, you were lying to yourself. It was a bitter sadness that you buried deep down. You looked over at the crib and let out a quiet sigh. "That means a lot."

Back outside with Dean, his conversation with his brother was turning out to be less comforting than the one you had with Cas. He leaned against the hood of the Impala and listened to the night he had with Kevin and Crowley, hoping there might have been some good news sprinkled in there somewhere. It turned out to be the worst outcome Dean could think of. He took the truth Crowley gave his brother with a grain of salt. The demon had been less helpful to them in the past without getting something out of them. Dean highly doubted the self isolation treatment the demon was being given softened him up. Sam was confident Crowley was telling the truth.

"No, Dean, not this time." Sam told his brother the hard truth all of you were going to have to come to terms with. "Look, Metatron built the spell to withstand any attempt to reverse it. There is no putting the angels back in heaven. It's done.”

The older Winchester let out a heavy sigh from what this news meant for someone. He finished up the call with his brother the exact moment you accidentally spooked him when you placed a hand on his arm. You smiled at his reaction before it slowly faltered at the sight of his face. Dean told you the same news Sam had given him over the phone about the mess that seemed to be unfixable. Your mind immediately went to the one person who was going to handle it the hardest, and who it affected the most. "Are you gonna tell Cas?"

The poor guy already was beating himself up badly about the situation that he caused, and all he wanted to do was undo his mistakes. But it seemed there was no way of putting things back together the way it once was. There were just some problems you couldn't fix. Out of anyone, you understood that the most.

+ + +

Every part of you wanted to keep Cas around and offer him a chance to have a proper place to call his home back at the bunker. But there were circumstances you would eventually learn that kept him from doing so. For now you remained in the dark about the reason why, thinking it was Cas’ personal choice to do as such. Cas had made a life of his own in this little town and seemed to be enjoying himself. It was just how it was going to be for now until things got better. if that was even possible anymore.

The final stop for Cas was back at the convenience store before his shift started. You conveniently excused yourself for a quick pit stop to the restroom before you and Dean headed back on the road to the bunker. It gave Dean a perfect chance to have a conversation with his friend about how things had to be.

"Listen, Cas, back at the bunker, I'm sorry I told you to go." Dean started off with an apology that felt like it needed to be said. "I know it's been hard on you, you know, on your own. Somehow you're adapting. I know Y/N's been worried about you, but it makes her happy seeing you do good. And, honestly, I'm proud of you."

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas said. Hearing words of encouragement from his friends brought a small ounce of happiness to him, but it only lasted for a short while, something else was weighing heavy on his mind that felt he needed to discuss. He glanced out the window before back to the hunter. "But there's something Ephraim said. The angels--they need help. Can I really sit this one out? Shouldn't I be searching for a way to get them home?"

"Don't worry. Me, Y/N and Sam, we'll take care of the angels." Dean reassured his friend, releasing him of the burden. "You're human now. It's not your problem anymore."

Dean never got around to telling Cas the information Sam told him. He should've. It was probably the right thing to do. But he couldn't get himself to do that, not to the poor guy who was already feeling down. He didn't lie, he just glossed over the truth. Refrained from giving all of the truth. It was becoming a habit lately with him—not telling the whole truth. Dean kept telling himself it was for the best.

He forgot that the truth will always come out. There was no lie or feeling that a person can bury deep enough to keep it from seeing the light. Eventually it was going to come back and haunt him.

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha // @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink // @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans // @icantfindacreativeurl // @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat

Message me if you would like to be added!

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Photo

i. too close to stars ✤ wesley brooks x elliot honeysett

words: 1.7k

prompt: “why are you looking at me like that?” taken from this list!

rating: rated p for Pining, lmao

warnings: mentions of blood, like blood being all over ‘em, uh. lots of elliot pining. and then ruining things for herself : ) wes belongs to @risenlucifer thank u for letting me love on ur boy!!!! (ಥ﹏ಥ)

There’s blood everywhere.

It should be troubling. It should be—the taste of it floods her mouth and she’s wrenching her shirt out in the river, soaking wet and cold down to her bones. Late Autumn light kisses her skin where the blood isn’t smeared, and Elliot’s fairly certain she’s gotten a most of it out of her hair after an unfortunate plunge into the river.

“Ugh,” she says, dropping her shirt on the ground and wiping the back of her hand across her cheek. “I’ve got it in my mouth.”

Beside her, Wes laughs—the kind of laugh that’s a little hysterical, like they didn’t just plunge someone’s poor jeep into the river after barely scraping out of one of the Cult’s outposts with their lives nearly untangled. Nearly undone. Nearly—

“You’re gonna make it worse,” he tells her, hoisting himself to his feet and closing the little bit of distance between them. “Stop scrubbing. Give me the shirt.”

“I just got the blood out of it.”

“Honeysett,” Wes chides, and she huffs, holding the wet shirt out to him. He takes it, flicking some of the water out of it before he starts using it to mop the dried blood off of her face, one hand holding her jaw while the other works diligently.

This close, she’s reminded—painfully—of how handsome he is. His brows furrow at the center of his forehead, and then smooth out; the corners of his mouth tick upward in a smile whenever their eyes happen to meet, while she stands obediently by and lets him fuss over her.

Too handsome, she thinks, almost bitterly, eyes flickering down to the cupid’s bow of his lips for a second. For a place like Hope County. What’s a guy like him doing here, anyway?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

His voice jolts her out of her thoughts, and she feels the flush immediately crawling up her neck and into her cheeks. Wes arches a brow, lofty and casual, despite the way his words are a clear call-out of her gazing.

“I’m-I-I’m not,” Elliot manages out. Fuck fuck fuck fuck get it together Honeysett, fuck, come on.

Wes hums. “You’re not?”

“L—” She feels her lip pout a little. He’s teasing her, she realizes too late, drawing a nervous little laugh out of her. “I’m not looking, I’m just—I can’t move my head, you know, your hand and—”

“Uh-huh.”

“—and you’re making fun of me,” she finishes after a second, watching the way the corner of his mouth ticks upward, his eyes glittering playfully. “Aren’t you?”

There’s something a little rueful about his expression. He finishes mopping the blood off of one side of her neck, his hand steady on the juncture between her shoulder and neck, calloused fingers spreading warm against her skin. She’d long ago shucked her deputy’s shirt in favor of something that didn’t restrict her with buttons, but now there’s more skin than usual available to be touched and she feels exposed.

“I’d never,” Wes replies after a moment of thoughtful respite, “make fun of you, Elliot.”

His eyes aren’t meeting hers, not quite, and she thinks it’s better like that because maybe if they were making eye contact she could be bursting into flames.

“Not true,” she protests weakly, watching him wring the wet cotton out, rivulets of rusty red sprinting down his forearm. “You make fun of me all the time.”

“I poke fun at you.” He lifts his chin a little in defiance of her assertion. “That’s not the same.”

And now he flashes her an actual grin, this one with teeth, and his eyes do lock with hers and—ah, yeah. The flood of heat straight to her face makes her quickly turn away, reaching down into the river to splash her face and scrub at whatever blood might still be in her hair. He seems content with her wordless response—perhaps because she’s sure her blush can be seen from space, it’s so nuclear-hot—and leaves her to complete the look of wet dog.

It takes about ten more minutes of dunking and rubbing before she’s sure she’s got most of it out, and when she trudges back to where Wes is sitting in the sun, he’s still wearing that expression of amusement.

“What?” Elliot asks, her mouth turning into a frown. “Deputy Brooks, mind sharing with the class?”

“Just think it’s funny,” Wes replies.

“What’s funny?”

“How you were like “I’m not looking”, as you were lookin’.”

“I—” Elliot stifles a sound of frustration, which only serves to throttle the sound on its way out, making it more obvious than ever. “Listen here, buddy.”

“All ears.”

She plops onto the ground next to him, wets her lips as she tries to think about how she wants to say the thing she’s trying to say. Easier said than done, as such things often go; it’s no less difficult with Wes’ eyes on her, landing heavily, but this also isn’t new. It’s always felt heavy when he looks at her—like there’s nowhere to hide.

“I can about hear the dial tone going off in your head,” he says to her, not unkindly.

“Well, look,” she huffs, wringing water out of her hair—it’s getting long, and she’ll need to chop it soon, but for now it’s just a minor nuisance—before she shakes the water off of her hands. “Maybe I was looking.”

He blinks, like her answer isn’t what he’s expecting. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” She kicks her legs out, propped back on her hands against the soft, warm earth, the sunk Jeep shimmering beneath the surface of the deepest part of the river. All things considered, the day is a pretty one—warm enough to get doused in river water, and quiet enough that if she closes her eyes she might be able to trick herself into thinking they aren’t in a metric fuckload of danger all the time. “Maybe I was looking, and—you know, I think that’s fine.”

Wes barks out a laugh and says, “So are you gonna tell me why you were giving me the big doe eyes?”

“I was not!” Elliot snips, but she’s smiling in spite of her embarrassment. “I don’t even know how to begin giving someone doe eyes.”

“You do it all the time,” he tells her, bumping her shoulder and tilting his head to look at her. There’s a little moment where his eyes flicker, she thinks down to her mouth, and the flush crawls up her neck and into her cheeks again. “Give me doe eyes.”

“Do not,” she mumbles, fixing her gaze elsewhere. On something, anything that isn’t Wes and his eyes and his Seeing.

“Do it to Joey, too. When you want her to share her food—”

“Um, that is strategy.”

“—but I like it best,” he continues, drawing her eyes to him again, “when you give them to me.”

Ell pauses. Her chest feels a little tight, and there’s panic rising tight and hot in her throat, but it doesn’t matter in any way that counts because she doesn’t think she could look away if she wanted to. And she doesn’t.

After a second, she asks, “Why?”

Wes exhales through his nose a little. “Feels like you want something,” he says after a minute, eyes searching her face, “from me.”

It’s a bad idea, continuing down this little thread, but the self-preservation is gone and Elliot plunges on impulsively, “What if I do?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight or the feeling of coming down from an adrenaline high or the taste of blood in her mouth, but her stomach wrenches with something red-hot and cruel when Wes looks at her and says, “You’d just have to ask, Ell.”

What do I want? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know how to say it, or how to ask, or where in her mind to go looking for the things that would make her happy—

(Except she does, she does know what she wants from Wes, because it’s not the first time she’s thought about it and certainly not the first time she’s been caught looking—)

—and it feels a little hopeless, a little dreadful, to be sitting there and thinking that she could be so close to feeling a shred of comfort if she really wanted it and being unable to follow through.

There’s not a lot of time to dwell on it, not beyond opening her mouth and feeling her brows knit together, because the sound of distant gunfire and shouting has their attentions snapping back up to the road.

The moment is broken; the magic is gone; the clock has struck midnight. Wes pulls himself to his feet and then grabs her hand to haul her up, and he says, “No rest for the wicked.”

It’s hard not to feel the stinging realization she has done herself a disservice again, that her panic and pain have paralyzed her from something that could be good, but like any poison in her body she swallows it down and she smiles.

“Especially not for a couple of sinners like us,” Elliot agrees. They set off across the field, skirting the river and climbing up the slope to where the ground turns into black tar pavement, heat radiating off of it in waves in the late afternoon heat. When she looks down the road, she can see the source of the shouting; a couple of resistance members, and Eden’s Gate stragglers, tied up in a mini shoot-out of their own.

Wes rolls his shoulders and says, “I mean it, you know,” which pulls her eyes back to him.

He’s looking at her. Of course he is—in the way that he does, making her feel seen. It’s enough to make her stomach wrench with that feeling again, and she realizes that it’s longing she’s feeling, welling inside of her, filling her up like a wineskin.

You’d just have to ask, Ell.

“I know,” she says after a moment, a little smile coming onto her face. “I believe you.”

He nods once. It’s a short gesture—a brief end to the conversation that she imagines he will now leave for her to pursue when she would like to. Wes never pushes her, not really, not in the ways that would make her shut down; this time is no different.

“Alright, Deputy Honeysett,” he announces, attention razer-focused again, “what say you we get back to work?”

“That’s Junior Deputy to you.”

“Don’t you think you deserve a promotion?”

“I’d like to refrain from taking on more responsibility, actually.”

Wes flashes her a grin, bumping her shoulder playfully with his before he sets off. And for just a little while—for just a moment—Elliot feels like everything might just be alright.

As long as he doesn’t catch her looking anymore.

#my writing #writing prompts #i am crawling out of my whole of inactivity to post one (1) thing #now back to finishing moodboard requests and procrastinating ch 8 #: ))))))#ch: elliot honeysett #oc: wesley brooks #the welliot of it all--#otp: between two mirrors #feeling out the ship name : )#insert crying pepe meme #far cry 5 ocs #fc5 oc

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

7 with indruck?

7: I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story”. I went SFW

“Dude! You can’t go in there! Hey, wait, dude, hold on!”

Jake’s voice jars Indrid from staring miserably at his computer screen. But it does nothing to prepare him for the stack of papers that slams into his desk.

“Where the fuck do you get off man?”

Staring him down is a man with dark hair, mis-matched eyes, a scar down his right cheek, and an extremely pissed-off expression. Indrid recognizes him instantly, both from T.V and his last assignment.

“Mr. Newton?”

“Yeah, that’s me, the guy you been draggin through the goddam mud!”

“I-”

“Where are you even gettin this stuff? Substance abuse, bad break-ups, the split between me and my team, who the fuck told you that bullshit?”

“I am not going to reveal my sources.”

“Oh now you get some fuckin ethics?”

“I was just reporting what people told me. I was assigned to round up the press around you now that you’re relaunching your show, and this is what I got. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”

“Upsets me?” Mr. Newton plants his hands on the desk, leaning into Indrid’s space, “buddy, I ain’t even on the same planet as upset right now. I’m actually feelin pretty damn calm, because I know who the fuck is to blame.”

“It’s not my fault” Inrid snaps back, “I got assigned it at random, so if you have issues kindly take them up with Woodbridge.”

“Sir, if you insist on raising a fuss in my office-”

“This him?” Mr. Newton points to Woodbridge as the editor appears from his office.

“Yes.” Indrid glares at Woodbridge through his glasses; he told him these kind of stories would lead to trouble, and it wasn’t even his usual beat.

He braces for Mr. Newton continuing to escalate, but instead the stocky man takes a deep breath , holding his hands up apologetically.

“Look, I’m real sorry, shouldn’t have come in guns blazin like that, and I know you fellas gotta make a livin same as anyone but this kind of stuff-” he whacks the papers into Indrid’s lap, “y’all gotta remember there’s a human on the other end of it.”

“That’s a very fair point, Mr. Newton-” Woodbridge gestures towards the door.

“A human with a damn good lawyer.”

“Mr.Newton, free speech”

“Protects you from the government, not from the Duck. I don’t mind the break-up nonsense, that happened plenty during the first show. Leo, Minerva, and I have been through every relationship configuration known to man, accordin to papers like yours. But the shit about me drinkin? That could damage my career. So could the reasons your ‘sources’ gave for why the show ended. You tellin me you’d hire a fella who apparently yelled at his co-hosts day in and day out and ‘couldn't hack’ bein’ outdoors?” This last question he directs at Indrid, who shakes his head.

“Mr. Newton, retracting the story would look very bad for us. However, we’d be more than willing to publish your side of the story.”

“Close, but my word ain’t enough to counter those claims about me bein’ incompetent. I’m goin’ on a month and a half tour to location scout and shoot the first two episodes. I want one of your writers to come with. Specifically, I want him.” He points to Indrid.

“Wait, why me? I’m not a travel writer, and I have a photography assignment due next week.”

“Because you’re the one who caused this mess, slim.”

Indrid starts to protest when Woodbridge turns to with a smirk.

“Start transferring your assignments, Indrid; you’re going on a roadtrip.”

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

Indrid grumbles to himself as he waits on the curb with his bag. Duck, as Mr. Newton has said to call him, told him to pack only one bag, and to bring his camera (“saw your shots when I was researchin you; you might like shootin out on the road”).

A motorcycle pulls up to the curb as he checks the time on this phone. He doesn’t give the vehicle a second look until the rider speaks to him.

“Glad you’re on time.” The helmet comes off, revealing Duck looking much calmer than the last time he saw him, “let’s get your gear on the bike and get goin’.”

Indrid stares at him in disbelief, “were you at any point going to warm me that I’d be doing this whole trip on a death machine?”

“Didn’t think I had to. Figured you knew this was how I traveled now, given all your, uh, thorough research.” Duck fixes him with a shit-eating grin as he straps his bag onto the bike, then hands him a helmet.

Indrid groans, jams the helmet on and awkwardly climbs onto the back of the bike.

“Gonna have to hang onto me, slim.” Duck’s voice crackles through his helmet, “don’t worry, I ain’t gonna bite you, even if I still kinda feel like it.”

“How encouraging.” He loops his arms around the T.V star, winces as the bike pulls out into traffic. There’s a laugh as he tightens his grip in fear, Duck’s body suddenly the only safe thing in the world.

They zoom onto the freeway, and promptly come to a dead stop in traffic.

“Truly invigorating.” Indrid mutters.

“Ain’t gonna be much fun until we’re outta the city. And I ain’t about to go zippin’ between lanes to cut ahead; great way to get us both killed.”

As they inch along, Indrid starting to sweat from the heat of the pavement, Duck asks, “did you ever watch the show?”

“Is there anyone who didn’t? Wild World was on every day. I’m fairly certain it’s still all Animal Planet plays some days.”

“Yeah but, uh, did you actually watch it on purpose?”

“I did, now and then. I found Minerva’s tendency to try more extreme forms of exploration stressful, but I generally enjoyed what I saw. I’m not surprised you’re the one who picked the show back up; you were always oddly compelling on camera, and it was clear it was a passion project for you.”

“Yeah, it really was. Is. Feels weird to be doin’ it without them. Can’t blame ‘em for havin’ their own lives and goals though. Leo was ready to retire after the Gila Monster incident, and Minerva’s wanted to run an adventure bootcamp for years.”

“You know, if you hurry and explain everything in the next ten minutes, you can just pull off there and drop me at the edge of town.”

A chuckle, “Nice try, Indrid. You ain’t gettin outta roughin’ it that easy.”

“It was worth a try. Alaska was the last episode run, right?”

Duck’s posture shifts so subtly that, were he not holding him, Indrid wouldn’t have noticed it.

“Yeah. Yeah it was. Nothin’ like gettin attacked by a wolf and takin a bunch of rabies shots to the gut to put you off filmin’.”

“It really was a wolf? Everything I read said-”

“I’d misidentified what attacked us? Yeah, I know. American wolves never really go after humans, that’s why we were so fuckin’ screwed when this one did. Poor fella. He was sick. We coulda proved what happened except I told Leo to destroy the footage and we had a knock down, drag out fight over it until he did.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want my pain, Minerva’s pain, and the wolf’s pain to become some goddamn viral sensation!” Duck snaps.

Indrid decides to drop it, feels Duck sag in the drivers seat. In spite of dragging him out into the wilderness, Indrid doesn’t bear Duck any bad feeling. And he doesn’t like seeing him sad.

“I, ah, I always liked the episodes where you showcased moths and butterflies. Moths are my favorite creatures, they’re so varied but so overlooked.”

Nothing but the traffic around them, then, “I once saw a Luna Moth bigger’n my hand. Didn’t get it on camera but damn was it a stunner.”

“Where did you see it?”

“Now there’s a story…”

By the time Duck finishes the cars are finally moving, and Duck changes them into the lane leading towards the exit for a single lane, county highway.

“Fuckin’ finally. Alright Indrid, hold tight.”

What follows is simultaneously the most thrilling and most terrifying four hours of Indrid’s life as Duck speeds down the road, win whipping around them and the world going by in a blur that’s much more alarming when not behind metal and glass. They find a rest stop, where Indrid shotguns an entire bag of skittles under Duck’s amused gaze, and get back on the road for an only slightly less terrifying four hours more.

They stop for the night at a KOA (“you’re lucky, slim, I got us a cabin to ease you into things”). Whereupon Indrid is treated to the sight of Duck stripping off his road gear, back muscular and sporting several scars.

“How are you likin’ life on the road?” Duck asks, not turning but starting to undo his pants. Indrid doesn’t look away until he’s down to his boxers.

“You know, it’s growing on me.”

They make their first shooting destination the next afternoon, setting up camp in a mostly-empty campground before hiking off into the woods. Duck shoots B-roll while Indrid photographs, the pair working in near total silence before meeting up with their contact near a jumble of boulders.

“Nice to see you again, Thacker.” Duck shakes the man’s hand, and gets a pat on the back.

“Good to you too, sport. Who’s the new fella?”

“My biographer.” Duck deadpans.

Duck spends the rest of the day filming as Thacker helps him find nest and burrows and creatures to shoot and narrate over. In spite of the show being done on a single camera, Duck is compelling as always when he talks about the natural world.

Indrid just wishes he’d sprung for better hiking boots.

“Ooof.” He mutters, face down on his sleeping bag.

“Not surprised, we did about ten miles all told today.”

“I repeat. Oof.”

A kind, sympathetic laugh, “C’mon, you’ll feel better after some dinner.”

Later that night, as he’s climbing into his sleeping bag, Duck pokes his head into the tent.

“Psst, Indrid, come look.”

Indrid follows him out, kneels by a clump of flowers when he waves him down.

“See, look, riiight there” Duck points, “it’s a Hummingbird Moth.”

Indrid gasps, delighted, and watches the pollinator flit from blossom to blossom. Duck sits beside him, answering his questions when he asks them, until it’s too dark for either of them to see.

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

Duck never thought he’d have a travel companion again. Not after Alaska, not after the attack and what came in the nights to follow.

He certainly never assumed the wiry, silvery haired writer who’d nearl fucked everything up would turn out to be that person. But Indrid, for all his initial skepticism, has become an excellent partner. He’s easy going, eccentric enough that Duck’s own quirks don’t phase him, quiet;y awkward, and a damn good photographer. The fact his alienly handsome face has become a bit windburnt and his pale hair a little longer only adds to his charm.

Christ, Duck wants to rip those red glasses off and kiss him until he’s breathless.

Currently, he’s missing the feeling of long arms around his waist, as he left Indrid back with a family whose jeep had run out of gas. They’re in one of the long, monotonous stretches of desert highway where passersby are few and cell phone service is unreliable, so Duck volunteered to ride ahead to the next gas station and bring some back. As the Jeep comes into view, he sees the family waving. Indrid is leaning against the car, smiling as if Duck is the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

That settles it; when they make Santa Fe, he’s calling The Weekly Rounds and asking Woodbridge to extend Indrid’s assignment. And if the old man refuses, well, Animal Planet is thrilled to have him back, and made it clear they’d be happy to pay for an additional camera man.

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

This time they’re the only ones in the campground, and Indrid suspects it might technically be closed. Indrid could do this forever. He wants to stay like this, with Duck, day in and day out, have their evenings be like this. Duck makes a fire, keeping it small to be safe, and the evening progresses like normal, the two of them swapping stories and munching on the dinner they whipped up from leftovers from the last gas station. Then the moon rises, two days from full, and Duck doubles over with a groan.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Indrid moves to help him, but Duck raises his hand to stop him.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, ‘Drid, fuck, I thought I had another day, thought we could make it somewhere I could keep you safe.”

“Safe from what? Duck, please, you’re hurt, I can call for help, just hold on.”

“No” Duck snarls, still hunched over, “you ain’t callin anyone. What you’re gonna do is run, far and as fast as you can, away from me. Find a tree, find a cave, flag down a car if you can find one. Go, please, fuck.” He falls off the stump he’s sitting on, and in spite of his instructions Indrid tries to help him up.

“Go!” It’s a growl now, and when Duck looks up at him his face is changing shape. Duck drags himself away from the fire, into the shadows, and Indrid turns, starting to run. There’s howl of pain and he stops. He can’t leave Duck like this. He won’t.

Resolute, he turns back to the camp and immediately regrets his decisions. Whatever is in the shadows isn’t human, not anymore. It’s growling low and labored, as it rises onto two feet and howls.

“Oh fuck me.” Indrid doesn’t dare turn his back, tries to slowly creep away and trips on a stray piece of firewood. The monster lowers to all fours, padding into the firelight across from him. It’s fur is dark and shaggy, it’s hands sport claws and when it opens it’s mouth to grin at him it’s teeth glitter like rows of knives.

He has to keep the fire between him and it, even if he has to spend his night running in some Scooby-Doo style circle around the fire pit. It’s his only chance.

In one, large leap, the werewolf clears the fire and lands in front of him, front paws bracketing his body when he tries to crawl back.

“Told you to run, slim.”

“I, I can’t.”

“Didn’t think you were stubborn to the point of dyin’.”

“Y-you told me not to run from predators, and I c-cannot drive the bike. And, and I didn’t, I couldn’t leave you.”

“Ain’t that sweet.” Duck grins again, “but why do you think I told Leo and Minerva I wasn’t safe to be around no more? Because a werewolf don’t know friend from foe.”

“That’s, that’s a lie. Y-you clearly know me, you know your past, you’re not some mindless killer ahgod.” He whimpers as a muzzle finds the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply before sending hot, hungry breath across his skin.

“Mmmmm, you smell good, sugar.”

“You’re not going to eat me.” Indrid says, eyes shut.

“You seem real sure about that.” Another snuffle, tongue dragging along his throat.

“You’re not because you are still Duck, just very large and covered with fur and with a mouth full of unnecessarily sharp teeth, and even though you seem convinced you’ve become bloodthirsty you are still you.” It comes out in a rush and he holds his breath as a clawed hand cups the back of his head. Duck tugs his head back, nosing along his exposed neck. He stares at the stares, praying they’re not the last thing he sees.

“I could rip your goddamn throat out.” Duck says matter-of-factly.

“Do you want to?” He whispers, hands coming up instinctively to protect his vital organs.

A long growl, and then Duck’s face blots out the night sky, “No. I don’t.”

“Ohthankgoodness.”

Duck rumbles out a laugh, “that’s puttin it mildly, slim. No one ever stuck around long enough to see what I’d do because I always hid myself or they had the goddamn good sense to run when I said too. Always assumed as soon as I was all the way changed, I’d wanna hurt people, even if they were people I loved.” He plucks Indrid’s glasses off, setting them carefully on the picnic table before using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a tear he hadn’t realized was there.

“What do you want to do instead?”

“In general, or to you?”

“Both?” Indrid is puzzled by his phrasing.

“Kinda amped up, like I wanna go for a run. Transformin’ basically releases a shit ton of adrenaline so your body just doesn’t collapse from the pain. But as far as you’re concerned…” the muzzle his back, snuffling at his face and chest, “dunno, mostly just wanna keep you close. Protect you. Some part of the wolf-brain is kinda just screamin ‘mine’ over and over again.”

“Oh. Ah. That’s, that’s good.” It’s also painfully arousing, but he’s not quite ready to admit that aloud yet.

“Probably helps that you’re wearing my shirt, since it means my scent is all over you already.”

“You let me borrow it AHHEY, gahthattickles” Indrid cackles as licks and nuzzles his face.

“Aww, didn’t know you were ticklish, sugar.” Duck grabs him, begins mercilessly rubbing his face on any exposed skin he can find.

“I’m not you are just very AHhehe hairy!” In retaliation Indrid reaches between them and scritches his fingers against Ducks chest and belly.

ThwupThwup

They both look at Duck’s tail with surprise. Indrid rubs his belly again.

ThwupThwup

“Didn’t know it did that. I mean, guess makes sense on account of bein’ kinda canine, but I guess I ain’t ever been really happy when I been like this before.”

“Should I keep doing that?”

“Fuck yeah. Hold on, here.” Duck adjusts so he’s on his back with Indrid more or less on top of him. Indrid resumes petting him, Duck making little happy whines as he does.

“Damn, that feels good sugar, ooh right.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? It’s a pet name.”

“I, uh, fuck, um, fuck, I didn’t, meant to say, uh, fuck.” A deep breath as Indrid sits up to meet his eyes, “I’m real fuckin into you, ‘Drid. I, I didn’t wanna say nothin until we were somewhere you could bail out easily if you needed to. But I ain’t felt this way about anyone in years.”

“Is that wolf-you talking or you-you talking?” Indrid asks, toying with a patch of fur.

“Both. I wanna be with you, and wanna keep travelin with you as my partner, as my, uh, my boyfriend. As my mate. Okay, that last bit was definitely the wolf talking.”

“I...I would like that as well, Duck. I didn’t know how to say it, I was afraid that what happened with your friends meant you didn’t want to be close to anyone. Including me.”

Duck sighs, “I wish I’d known then what we figured out tonight. Maybe things woulda ended a little better between us three. I just, I couldn’t face the idea of bein’ out on a shoot with ‘em and havin this exact thing happen.”

“I must admit, the lack of a full moon is rather confusing.”

“It ain’t just the full moon. It’s a few days after and before too, and I thought I had one more before it hit. Plan was to sneak out of the hotel in Santa Fe and hole myself up in a cave somewhere.”

Indrid strokes his cheek, the fur a little coarser there, “That was what attacked you three, I take it.”

“Uh huh. We were trackin it, thinkin’ it was some kind of huge predator we might be able to film. It jumped Minerva first, but she’s a tough one, managed to hold her own and only got scratched up. I pulled it off her and it bit me. I, uh, I shot it point blank while it was doin’ that. Turned into a man as it fell in the dirt. Leo and Minerva said I did what I had to but I...well, let’s just say I still see that fellas face a lot in my dreams.”

“No wonder you wanted the footage destroyed.” Indrid murmurs.

Duck nods, waves one hand in front of his face, “damn skeeters, c’mon, let’s get in the tent.”

The tent is a tight fit, but Indrid couldn’t be happier. He crawls onto Duck’s chest, nestling against his fur with a sigh.

“Now if you have bad dreams when you’re like this, you have someone to to hold.”

Duck kisses the top of his head, “Thanks, sugar.”

Indrid falls asleep atop a giant wolfman, and wakes up to the morning sun and much smaller, human man sprawled beneath him, who he wakes with a flurry of kisses.

They make Santa Fe by noon, riding in feeling freer then either of them has in a long time. When they ride out the next morning, Indrid has a new job and Duck has a new cameraman. But all either can think about at the moment is his new boyfriend, and the future spreading out ahead of them beneath the rising sun.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #celebrity au #werewolf AU #meet ugly #prompt fills

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harianadimples · 4 years

Text

He Held The World Upon a Dream

6.2k: hariana, single!dad harry, single!mom ariana warning(s): purest fluff, wholesome dad!harry content *chef’s kiss*

| – | – | – |

Harry and Bambi usually had to wait for Teddy to come from another part of the school since the Year 1’s exited from another part of the school. Harry could remember the way Bambi sprinted towards him one day, a big smile gracing her face as she hugged him hello. It’d been a particularly short hug since Bambi was eager to tell him about her new friend, Luna. The two were partnered up for reading buddies, and were sat next to each other in class. Harry remembered Bambi pointing towards a small girl across the way; Harry assumed it was Luna. With Luna appeared to be a woman, but he didn’t see her face as the woman’s back was to them. He recalled Bambi telling him that she was Luna’s mother and that she was ‘really pretty, like a princess’; in her words.

It’d been about a month now, and he’s never gotten more than a glimpse of this woman. It’s amazing how acquainted he’s become with the back of her head, which always seemed to have her hair up in a ponytail. He’s never gotten a chance to approach her since she seemed to drop off Luna well before he’d arrive with Teddy and Bambi, and the times when he definitely could approach her during pick-up, his body would betray him and he’d stay well enough away to avoid a series of awkward situations his poor overthinking mind would concoct for him.

Yet, there was one time when he’d slept through his alarm and had to drop Teddy and Bambi off through the front office so he could sign them in. He saw her then, still the back of her head, but he heard her. Oddly enough he was blindsided by the sound of her voice before it even registered in his mind that she wasn’t English. Her voice was soft, with a certain quality to it that he likened to a melody. As a musician he’d fallen completely in love with the tone of her voice. He didn’t know anything at all about this woman, aside from her being the mother of his daughter’s friend, but he could tell from her voice and his daughter’s dramatization of this woman’s elusive beauty, that she could be the most perfect woman to ever walk the earth– in his head.

“He Held The World Upon a Dream”

The one inspired by “She” by Harry life ruiner Styles

-:-:-:-

“Bambi, wake up,” Harry gently poked the sides of his sleeping toddler, earning a low whine of annoyance from the four-year-old as she raised her Star-Wars themed blanket and hid herself under to avoid him. “Teddy first,” his youngest mumbled, referring to Theodore, her older brother by two years. There’s a precious twang in how she speaks, reflecting her young age which makes Harry’s heart soar a little.

“M’already awake Bambi. C’mon get up, daddy made chocolate chip waffles and I want some,” Teddy spoke from the doorway with crossed arms as Bambi suddenly pushed her blanket off herself, sitting up straight, which made Harry lean back quickly to avoid injury.

“Choc-o-late waffles?” Bambi gasped. “But it’s Tuesday?”

“I know, baby. Know you’ve been a little sad lately since we moved away from your friends at your old school, so it’s my treat,” Harry explained as he smoothed his hand over her unruly curls.

“But, are we having waffles on Friday?” Bambi asked slowly, now finding interest in the sun shining through the curtains.

“Of course angel, like always,” Harry assured her.

“Can have waffles right now…”

“Teddy,” Harry turned to his son who didn’t seem to be phased by his father hearing what he’d muttered under his breath.

Harry had set out Bambi’s outfit for the day the night before. It had begun to be rather dreary in London; grey skies and dry air. Teddy was already ready, so the pair left Bambi’s room to let her get dressed while they made their way down to the kitchen. As they put out three plates of waffles on the dining table, the quiet pitter-patter of tiny feet could be heard as Bambi entered through the corridor. Harry helped his kids into their seats, rolling up the sleeves of their jumpers before joining them to eat.

“Daddy?” Bambi’s small voice spoke through a bite of waffles.

“Swallow first angel, remember manners” Harry gestured for her to do so, which took a minute since she’d taken quite a large bite.

“Daddy?” Bambi asked again.

“Yes, my love?” Harry chirped with the same enthusiasm.

“Can you braid my hair after?”

“Sure baby. You didn’t like the space buns I did on you yesterday?”

“I like it, but Luna has braids and I like her.”

“Ohhh,” Harry nodded understandingly, “is this the same Luna who is in your reading buddy group?”

“Yeah, she’s my friend,” Bambi smiled.

“See, Bambi, moving can be scary, but you’ll get to meet all kinds of people and make new friends and make new memories. And it doesn’t mean you have to forget your old friends, you’re just gaining more; the more the merrier.”

Harry was happy to know that Bambi had made a friend. He’d only seen a glimpse of this Luna when he’d arrived to pick up Bambi and Teddy from school on their first day.

He felt it was necessary to be there for drop-off and pick-up since they’d started a new school. He didn’t want his children to be frightened, and wanted them to adjust on their own terms rather than his own. It did require some sacrifices to be made on his part, as a musician, to opt out of making appearances to promote his music so he could spend time with his children. Yet, as a father, he’d much rather be with his children anyway, than having to play the part of a charismatic singer for the interests of others. His fans had been understanding of his new schedule and the proceedings that have unfolded since Teddy was born. Of course it took some time for the world to adjust to the idea of ‘singer-songwriter, Harry Styles, becomes a father,’ meanwhile Harry couldn’t have felt more than excited, yet terrified, to embark on the adventure of fatherhood. By the time Bambi came along, Harry was certain that being a father was the most important thing to him, and really, the only full-time job that is fulfilling to his soul.

By nine in the morning, Harry had pulled his car into the school parking lot. They walked the rest of the way to the pavement, where other parents were dropping off their kids as well.

“Bye daddy, see you later!” Teddy collected his hug and kisses from Harry quickly before running off to join his group of friends on the playground. Harry chuckled and waved him off before pulling Bambi along.

They hadn’t gotten far before a small girl came running up to Bambi, tackling her with a hug.

“Luna!” Hearing his youngest’s shrill laughter brought another warm feeling in Harry’s stomach as he took in the young girls’ reunion. Luna seemed to notice that Harry was still there, and gave him a curious look.

“Are you Bambi’s dad?” Luna asked.

“Yes, I am, and you are Luna. Bambi is always telling stories about your adventures here over dinner,” Harry chuckled.

“Your hair Bambi!” Luna suddenly gasped as she reached for the braids that fell over Bambi’s shoulders.

“Yeah, my daddy did ‘em for me,” Bambi smiled proudly at Harry who felt like he could fall to his knees at any moment. “Okay, daddy you can go now. I’m with Luna.” And… that moment passed.

“Alright angel, but first give daddy a hug and kiss goodbye.”

He made sure to squeeze her extra tight and make the kiss extra wet and noisy, just for the sake of it, and revelled in the high-pitch whine that came from Bambi as she struggled to escape him. Harry laughed with her as he eventually set her down and let Bambi run off with Luna.

…

He saw her again; only a glimpse from behind as she helped Luna into her car. Harry doesn’t recall noticing anyone else with her as he drove off with that one thought in his mind.

“Daddy is doing some writing with the band today, but I still want you to start your homework right away when we get home. I’ll have Ben sit with you so he can help you if you need it.”

“Can we watch cartoons after?” Teddy asked.

“Only if you finish your homework first. Ben will check it, and so will I after.”

When they arrived at the house, Ben was already sat at the dining table with a series of snacks set out for Teddy and Bambi when they arrived. He kneeled down and greeted the two-younglings with a hug.

“Thanks for the help Ben,” Harry said as he clapped his hand over Ben’s shoulder, giving him a friendly shake before picking off an animal cracker from Bambi’s plate to eat. “I’m gonna go set up the studio. When the rest of the band arrive just send them to the den.”

“Anything else H?”

“No, that’s it for now,” Harry paused, checking his phone for any messages. It was 1:32 in the afternoon and he was feeling rather drained. “Actually, could you run out and get coffee?”

Harry lived a ten-minute walk away from a plaza which had this quaint café where he usually got his coffee, so he wouldn’t be long. Once Ben was gone, Harry slid into the seat next to Bambi who had already pulled out her workbook and pencil case, and was sharpening her pencil.

“So what are we looking at?” Harry asked.

“Math. This is a circle,” Bambi explained, pointing at the rough drawing on her page. “I have to practice drawing the shapes.”

“What about you Teddy?” Harry asked.

“Practicing writing letters and then I have to read aloud this book,” Teddy explained.

The two ate their snacks as they worked quietly. Harry liked putting on a playlist of instrumentals of songs they like on low volume as white noise for them, since they seemed to focus better without the silence. Bambi was having fun copying the shapes in her workbook, oftentimes just completely straying from the correct shape and adding faces in their centres for her own entertainment. Meanwhile, Teddy seemed highly concentrated on not veering off line, making sure every stroke of his pencil was straight and pressed deeply onto the page.

Ben soon returned with Harry’s coffee.

“Okay babies, I’ll just be in the den.” Harry kissed the top of their heads before taking his coffee into the next room down the corridor, shutting the door behind him.

Harry had turned the den into his own makeshift studio a few months before Teddy was born. He knew he couldn’t leave his new family, but he couldn’t just stop working all together with his kind of profession, especially since Teddy arrived as a surprise, and neither he nor his team had a real plan at the time. So, the studio was the first sort of stability that he arrived at that would allow him to work from home and look after Teddy as well. Having Ben as his assistant was also quite helpful.

As he sat at the couch with his journal and coffee, he thumbed through the pages until he arrived at a blank page. On the page on its left he’d drawn a rough sketch of the mysterious woman he knew nothing about. Of course, the sketch was of the back of her small frame against an open background; he hadn’t decided on what background he’d give her. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to immortalize her in a school playground, since she’s seemed to be appearing in other places as well. Perhaps Harry’s gone totally insane, but he’d once thought he’d seen her at the market, a completely different territory from the familiarity of the school playground. She’d somehow embedded herself in his mind when he saw her in her in the school office and heard her voice.

Harry thought about earlier that day, when he saw her walking with Luna to their car. How her hair, in its ponytail, moved with her as she’d look at Luna every once in a while, engrossed in the story of her day. She seemed like such an attentive mother, very caring and sweet to her daughter who looked at her like she hung the moon.

Another thing Harry noticed was that she always picked up Luna alone.

Harry wondered where Luna’s father was, but had some intuition that her mother might be in the same boat as him. That would be a good topic of conversation with her, something that would bring them closer. Though, it’d be rather awkward for Harry to finally introduce himself to this woman, saying along the lines: ‘Hey, I’m a single parent too. Let’s have coffee sometime.’ Not to mention how assumptive it is and rather intrusive.

Regardless, he’d still love to have coffee with her someday. The idea brings such warmth to Harry’s cheeks, not from shyness but from pure embarrassment, because he’s never even met the woman, let alone spoken to her. Yet here he was, absolutely infatuated with her already. He figured that he’d eventually properly meet her considering their daughters were becoming closer and closer each day.

Harry dreaded the reaction he’d get from his band, whom are some of his closest friends, once they heard about this woman. Whether he pursued her or not, they’d find some way to tease him about their relationship which, for now, doesn’t exist yet. They already thought he was seeing someone since he tended to get lost in his daydreams of her, but he kept this one to himself, mostly because he wouldn’t know what to say to them if they asked who she was because he literally doesn’t know who she is.

…

At dinner Harry sat quietly as he went around the table, letting his babies talk about their day between bites. Teddy was more self-manageable and knew how to feed himself, while Bambi still needed some assistance slicing her food into smaller bits, so while he did that for her, he and Bambi listened to Teddy talk about what he did in school that days.

“Can I bring my barbie to play tomorrow?” Teddy asked, wrapping up his story.

“Course bubs, but make sure you don’t lose it again. It’ll be your fourth one this month,” Harry said.

“Ketchup daddy,” Bambi spoke up, making grabby hands for the bottle. Harry picked up the bottle, squeezing a dollop in the corner of her plate. Bambi pouted at the size, gazing up at her father with her big eyes.

“Last time you left so much on your plate because you squeezed so much,” Harry sighed, giving her nose a light tap with his fingertip.

“It was on accident,” Bambi pouted, “it just went phflttt.”

“So, what did you do at school today?”

“Learn stuff,” Bambi shrugged.

“Oh, what stuff?”

“Like math and words. I read and coloured– oh!” Bambi’s eyes suddenly widened as she heaved herself off her chair, sprinting around the table to where her bag was resting in a chair. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a folded piece of construction paper. She walked to Harry, opening it for him to see. “I drew this for you.”

“Oh, wow!” Harry gasped, taking the paper gently, careful not to get any of his food on it since it was much larger than he expected.

“That’s you, and that’s Teddy, and that’s me, and that’s the house,” Bambi explained, pointing at three stick figures and a rough shape of a house.

“What’s that there?” Harry asked, pointing to a beige ball in stick-Bambi’s arms.

“A doggie…” Bambi trailed off.

Harry sighed deeply, unable to hold back a smile when he peered at his daughter, seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes as she mirrored his smile; dimples and all.

“What’s its name?” Teddy asked, now interested in Bambi’s drawing as he kneeled in his chair to see better.

“Careful Teddy.”

“Waffles,” Bambi grinned. “Daddy, did you know Luna has a doggie? She has like ten of them!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, its name is pis-pitache-pista-um–.”

“Pistachio?”

“Yeah! Luna said that when I get a doggie we can play at the park together so Waffles and Pi-ta-cho can be best friends like us!”

“Bambi,” Harry sighed, choosing his next words carefully as to not upset his daughter, “remember what we agreed?”

“That we’re gonna wait a little,” Bambi sighed after a brief moment of silence.

“I’m sorry angel. Right now you and Teddy are my priority. I want to make sure you’re both settled before we bring in a new member to the family. Training a dog takes a lot of time and effort.”

“I can help,” Bambi spoke in a small voice, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I can be res-pi-ble.”

“I know you can baby, but it’s not the best time right now. But, if you want, we can go to some shelters this weekend and we can have a look.”

“Okay,” Bambi sighed. Harry never liked disappointing his kids, but they’d somehow been raised which such an unbelievable sense of empathy that he sometimes wished they’d tell him off when he was acting like a dickhead. But no, they hardly ever threw a tantrum; usually it’s when they’re tired and grumpy, and after a bit of screaming, toys being thrown, and the door to their bedroom slamming, Harry would come up and speak to them, not really speaking himself, but making sure his kids felt comfortable enough to be open with him. He wanted to teach his kids to not be closed off from their emotions, and to be able to feel free to express themselves. They’re bound to say something out-of-pocket because of their young age, but with those instances come lessons to be learned, and everyday is a new opportunity for them to pick up on life lessons whether they were searching for an answer to a homework question or asking for a pet.

After dinner, Harry let Teddy and Bambi watch some tv while he cleared the table and washed the dishes. Afterward, he carried them upstairs and prepared them a bath. He let them soak in the water for a few minutes while he ran out and put out clothes for the pair in their room. After washing, he wrapped them up in towels and carried them out. He helped Bambi change first before moving onto Teddy.

“Go on and pick a book while I help your sister with her hair,” Harry said as Teddy nodded and approached the small bookcase, kneeling in front of it to select a book.

Harry walked to Bambi’s bed where she sat, her feet dangling above the floor as she kicked them back and forth, her attention clearly set on her pink-coloured toes. Harry reached for the de-tangle brush on her bedside and sat down on her bed, lifting her so she could sit in his lap while he combed her hair.

Harry couldn’t resist; he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply.

“Hmmm, my baby smells so clean, like watermelon.”

Harry knew the bottle claimed to smell like the fruit, and even if it didn’t necessarily smell like actual watermelon, it still smelled rather nice and fruity. He and Bambi seemed to share the same nose for things like scents, since they have the same taste in shampoo smells and candles, and such.

Bambi’s hair was getting rather long, but Harry didn’t want to cut it. He thought she looked so adorable with her long curls, and until Bambi raised any complaints he wasn’t going to force her to get it cut. It meant her needing a special routine to keep them looking nice and healthy, which thankfully after some weeks of trial and error and more research, Harry came up with the perfect routine for her. The only downside was the time it took to do for her, but it made for some quality father-daughter time.

Teddy had a similar routine with his curls, only his hair took less time to do since his hair was much shorter than Bambi’s so Harry would often do his once he was done with Bambi. When Bambi was all set, Harry moved onto Teddy and sat him in his lap with the brush.

“Oh, brilliant choice,” Harry said as Teddy opened the book.

“Are you ready Bambi?”

“Ye-Yeah,” Bambi yawned.

“Okay.” It took Teddy a moment to find a comfortable position in Harry’s arms. As he began to read aloud, he followed the words with his finger like he’ learned in school, and took his time to get the words right. “A m-mother held her baby… and very slowly rocked him back and forth… back and forth… back and forth… and while she held him, she sang,” Teddy paused, looking up at Harry as if that were his cue.

“I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, As long as I’m living my baby you’ll be,” Harry sang, rocking Teddy. He let his little one wriggle around, smiling gently to himself at the earnestness of the young boy as he propped the book up so Bambi could see the pictures from where she laid in bed.

…

That evening Harry had the strangest dream. He’d woken up fully alert, long before he was due to bound because his dream had felt so real, and so good, that it seemed like his brain was ahead of his heart this time and knew, this one needed to be written down. So, Harry immediately turned on his bedside lamp, reached for his journal, and opened to a fresh page.

Harry stood by, watching from afar as Bambi came into view among the children leaving through the double doors of the school building. Bambi wasn’t alone; she was holding hands with her friend Luna, paying very little attention to where she was walking as she kept her attention on the young girl which nearly sent her to the ground. Harry, knowing it was wrong, couldn’t help but laugh at his little girl’s fumble; she’d gotten her legs from him anyway.

“Hi daddy!” Bambi finally noticed Harry standing nearby, and briefly left her friend to run up to him. She tackled his legs first before he bent down to pick her up, carrying her so he could properly squeeze her and kiss her plump cheeks. Though, this didn’t last long as Bambi wrestled herself out of Harry’s arms to return to Luna.

“Mumma!” It was Luna’s turn to leave Bambi behind as she ran past Harry.

“Hello, my darling,” the woman cooed as she greeted her daughter.

Harry stood with her as they watched their daughters begin talking among themselves again. Teddy joined the pair, pulled in by the handle on his bag by Bambi. Harry chuckled at his surprised expression which eventually mellowed out as he hugged Bambi, but not before playfully shoving her.

Seeing his daughter seemingly opening up to somebody other than himself or Teddy was such a relief for him, and just a generally nice thing for him to see. She’d always been a rather anxious child, which made making friends a little difficult for her, but she’s always had the biggest heart, and a quality about her that made her care a lot for anyone in her radius, which in return made them care for her. Still, sometimes she can grow a little tired trying to keep up with the exchanges of daily life and it can put her in a low mood. Moving has taken on toll on her for sure. It’s something he works on with her, but it seemed like she’s beginning to adjust to the new change; slowly, but gradually, she’s returning to her cheerful self. Teddy would attest that he’s done more for Bambi, being her older brother who reads a bedtime story for her, and lets her play with his dolls under his supervision, and sometimes finishes her homework for her when she falls asleep. Though, as their father, he tries not to promote his son’s inherent sense of responsibility for his sister’s upbringing since that’s primarily his responsibility; he does pride himself in having produced a son as empathetic as Teddy. Likewise, he prides himself in producing someone as caring and accepting as Bambi.

Harry was sure that he had sprung a few tears just thinking about his babies when he felt someone tug his arm.

“They grow up so fast, don’t they?” The woman next to him sighed right next to his ear.

“Swear it was only yesterday; I was carrying Bambi from the nursery, and bringing her in so Teddy could hold her.”

A reel of Bambi’s birth abruptly played for him, like his brain needed him to see what happened when his princess was born. She completed his ideal family: one boy and one girl, though Harry was never opposed to having more kids. His immediate family was rather small, but he had plenty of cousins who he was close to. Being a family oriented person, Harry was more than happy with the idea of growing his family, though time would only tell before he was ready to open up about why he hasn’t exactly leaped at the chance.

Teddy had the honour of naming Bambi, though it was unintentional. He’d been upset that he wasn’t a part of her birth, having to stay with Anne and Gemma in the waiting room while his little sister was being delivered. Harry recalls how he felt when he held Bambi for the first time; he was a father again, this time to a baby girl; it’s a feeling that can’t be replicated easily, or as often as he’d like, so he christened the moment by singing “Isn’t She Lovely” to his new angel, or rather blubbered through it since he couldn’t stop crying at how perfect she was now that she was in his world. When he was given the okay to show Bambi to his family, he’d interrupted his restless son who was complaining to his grandmother and aunt.

“I wanna see Bambi!” Teddy suddenly yelled.

It turned out Teddy wanted to watch the movie Bambi, but Harry’s always been fond of the movie and in that moment Harry’s heightened emotions found the name Bambi to be perfect for his little one.

“She’s right here,” He said, bringing Bambi into everyone’s view as if she’s always been in their world; always been Bambi.

To this day Teddy claims naming her Bambi was intentional, and despite how often they argue at times, Teddy loves her more than his little heart can comprehend. But he wouldn’t admit it to you in words, he’ll just try to fight you if you upset her.

“I know what you mean,” The woman sighed wistfully, “nice to finally meet you, by the way. I’ve seen you around while picking up Luna. Her and Bambi are real close, she tells me all about Bambi on our drives home.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Harry smiled, “yeah, Bambi is really fond of your daughter. All the stories she tells at dinner involve Luna. We’re new here, so I’m happy to see them get along so well.”

“Really? Welcome! I would have never guessed; you and the kids just seem so well adjusted. It’s like you’ve lived here your entire lives.”

“Oh, you know, it’s still a work in progress, but everyday is a better day.”

She had to go, but they arranged a playdate for Luna and Bambi. The park felt like a nice place to start. Harry’s place has been relatively messy since his band tended to leave bits of their life behind, practically turning his home into a hub for them to crash at whenever they were nearby and needed somewhere to sleep. Regardless of the state of his house, he’d been to the park a few times already, passing through on his morning jogs after dropping off the kids, and he knew there was a jungle gym and sets of swings for the kids to play, which was surrounded by a small open field for them run in. It just felt safe.

He got to learn more about the woman as they kept a third eye on the girls and Teddy who’d somehow been coerced into pushing the pair on the swings. The details remained cloudy in his mind, but somehow his soul felt every word she spoke.

He knew this woman.

He knew her well.

So, he asked her out, and after a few dates, a couple fights, great make up sex, and more time spent, he knew, moments into their first conversation on that park bench under the sycamore tree, that he was going to marry this girl; whoever she may be.

“Theodore, wake up little one, my Theo-ooo–.”

“I’m Teddy daddy,” His son whined through a bellied yawn as he stretched his arms outward, knocking Harry in the face.

“Put your sweater on. Bit chilly downstairs,” Harry told his son, ruffling his curls before moving onto his snoring daughter who’s proven to be the more difficult one to wake up, being the heaviest sleeper in the family; she’s slept through the thunderstorms that have even kept up Harry from the sound, yet she’d managed to get a full night’s rest. Meanwhile Harry and Teddy, who’d never been a fan of loud, unpredictable sounds, stayed up watching cartoons on Harry’s phone until they fell asleep.

“Bambi,” Harry whispered into his daughter’s hair as he gently combed his fingers through her hair, “c’mon my love, Bambi, time to wake up angel.”

Harry waited a few seconds before trying again. Sometimes Bambi tended to be a little grumpy when she’s disturbed from her sleep. As an infant she’d cry relentlessly, but by two she learned to express her annoyances by crossing her arms and pouting, and now at four she’s become more selective, either doing the latter or completely ignoring you with the odd

‘Are you serious right now’ look thrown your way.

“I can wake her up.”

Harry looked at Teddy who was holding his pillow above his head, eager to swing. “No Teddy,” Harry immediately shut down his son’s mischievous plan, glancing at his daughter who continued snoring loudly. “We’ll just have eat breakfast without Bambi. Too bad she’s going to miss out on chocolate-chip waffles.”

Suddenly, Bambi’s snoring ceased altogether as she sat up quickly, throwing her covers off her small body before leaping past Harry and Teddy towards the bedroom door, yelling, “Waffles! Race ya Teddy!”

“Hey! Wait for me, ugh, Bambi, no fair!” Teddy sprinted out the door after her, while Harry chuckled, leaving their room his well.

He took a slight detour, making his way back towards the bedroom where she was laying in bed, right where he left her. He sighed deeply, smiling at how she’d somehow ended up in a completely different position from the one she started in. She tended to be a fussy sleeper, so he didn’t hold it against her when she’d knock him in the back sometimes with her elbow or cuddle too close to his front which would make him unbearably hard for the rest of the night.

This time she was laying in a sort of flamingo yoga pose, though she was lying down, and had her arm resting over her eyes to block out the light coming in through the window. The moment the bed dipped as Harry sat down on his side of the bed, her arm shifted, revealing her glassy eyes.

“The kids awake?” She asked, her voice roughened by sleep.

“Hmm, hmm, even got Bambi to wake up before you,” Harry said as he leaned into his pillow a little more, “think that means you owe me a kiss.”

She laughed softly and pursed her lips. They kissed for a while in the comfort of their shared bed, resting on their pillows under the matching blanket she picked out for them. Harry was blissed out to the point he’d nearly fallen asleep with his hands permanently gripping her hips as they made small circles against his clothed dick.

“What’re you doing?” A small voice spoke from their doorway which made Harry nearly jump out of his skin. She, on the other hand, kept herself calm as she moved herself away from Harry and out of bed to pick up the little girl who was looking at them like they were aliens.

“Just giving daddy his morning kisses,” She explained as the little girl nodded slowly.

“But it looked like you were hurting him.”

“He’s okay, but maybe he needs some more morning kisses,” She said as she carried the little girl over to Harry.

“Good morning little Luna,” Harry smiled at the little girl. “I’ll have your morning kisses downstairs, okay, I just gotta use the bathroom real quick. Teddy and Bambi are already downstairs.”

Luna was happy to hear that, and wriggled herself free from her mother to leave the room. As soon as Luna left, Harry ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

A few minutes later, he’d finally come down. She was waiting for him in their bedroom, a smile of pure enjoyment in his situation that he kissed on before pulling her down the corridor.

Five plates were set out instead of three at the dining table. Two dogs run past Harry’s feet as he takes his seat next to his wife. She’s talking to Bambi and Teddy and Luna about something he can’t seem to know, but her voice is a waning presence that he can’t help but swim in, so he just listens to her go on about what it is she’s talking about; he must look like her fourth kid, the way he’s staring at her.

She looks at him with an innocent smile, and gently kisses his lips for no reason at all. Hers are sticky from the syrup she had with her waffles, which makes him physically react just to hear his kids yell about how gross they’re being: groaning in union, their expressions of disgust which only makes Harry laugh.

“Mum, dad!”

The dream ended there, so abruptly in the middle of a family moment that Harry needed a moment between waking up and gathering his writing material to remind himself that it wasn’t reality. After writing it out, Harry can see the weird streams of consciousness his brain took as he somehow shifted from dreaming about finally introducing himself to the mysterious woman at Bambi and Teddy’s school, to envisioning a whole life with her and her daughter where they’d come together as one big family.

Harry knew it was normal for some dreams to feel real. This one just felt cruel.

Dreams that tend to include real people and real places have relevance. For Harry, he knew it was because he wanted to know this woman, and he supposed deep down, his subconscious felt ready to introduce a new woman into his children’s lives, and another sibling. But Harry, even knowing this, felt pathetic. Mostly because the reality hit that he had nowhere near the confidence of his dream-self, and he wasn’t bold enough to just pursue a woman as perfect as she is when he feels relatively like shit, if he were to be honest.

Harry has a lot of reason to be afraid to do the bare minimum as merely introducing himself. First of all, she might not be single like he imagines her to be, which would end things rather quickly before they start. Or, she could be completely out of his league and will laugh in his face if he dares to talk to her. But she sounded lovely, and too nice to be the rude kind so he doubts this heavily; she’s still out of his league though. Somehow, even more terrifyingly, if he does happen to move forward through the friend zone and into a relationship with her, theoretically, it’ll be a huge change for himself and his kids, and he doesn’t want them to be afraid or closed off, and he definitely wouldn’t move forward with anything unless they approved; Bambi and Teddy were his number one priority.

He packed the dream away, deciding to not to dwell on the details before they occurred since overthinking doesn’t do much for productivity. Harry needed to introduce himself to this woman before he goes insane. He wanted to be a part of her life somehow; he has Bambi to thank for being friends with Luna, otherwise he wouldn’t have accidentally fallen in love with the idea of this woman. But until they meet, she’ll have to live in his daydreams with him.

| – | – | – |

Happy (Cat) Valentines Day ♡ Hope you enjoyed this one. Part 2 coming soon .x

+ masterlists

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ocean-of-ideas · 5 years

Text

A monster girl story

Chapter 1 Needs More Cowbell!

"I was told journaling would help the dark thoughts and feelings, but it just seems to summon them. The more I write about what I’m feeling the more I hate everything. I made a promise, though, so we’re gonna try it out. It’s you and me, journal, I hope you’re ready.

Another therapy appointment and another dosage change. My body feels like lead. Too heavy and dull. I picked at my nails again so there go my plans of making them pretty. Maybe I should get fakes? Nah, I’d just break ‘em off anyway."

A fat drop of water stained the paper. The girl looked up at the rapidly darkening skies, a heavy weight settling in her stomach. With a huff and a puff she shoved the journal into her backpack and stood to leave. The picnic table she sat at snagged her leggings as she moved, and the ripping sound only fueled her anger. These were new, damnit! She scolded the table in her head, as if it could hear her thoughts.

The next round raindrop that landed on her nose told her to set aside her scolding of inanimate objects for now and hurry home. As she set off down the pavement out of the park, she slid her headphones over her head and hit shuffle on her playlist. Rapidly pressing the skip button, she flew through her list until she came upon one that felt right and let her mind wander.

The dark sky felt like a friend to her, always there to turn to when things around her went awry. The clouds seemed to be moving fairly fast, she noted, which could mean a storm soon. With the bus and covered waiting area in sight she quickened her pace to catch up. Once on board she showed a bus pass and gave the driver a nod and a sheepish smile.

“Afternoon, Charlotte! Good to see you again, dear.” She swore that old man’s smile could have cleared the clouds if he pointed it just right. She sat in the first available seat not too far from him and sighed. As the bus pulled off her attention shifted to the shiny enamel pins on the driver’s hat. Various symbols for heroes adorned the old uniform cap along with a fishhook or two on the brim. He’d told her stories for each pin, who gave it to him and what it meant, on one of her rides. Despite the many times she’d insisted he call her Charlie like everyone else he insisted the name Charlotte was too pretty not to use.

A soft smile found its way to her lips as she leaned against the bus window and stared out at the passing scenery. Nice buildings and fast food joints turned into apartments and condos, then into a shabby-looking neighborhood she called home. The houses just a bit farther were spread out on large pieces of land with a dense forest just beyond that. Her home was situated on the edge of the forest with most of the open land off to one side and the tree line on the other. The house belonged to her parents, but they left it to her when they moved to a warmer climate. She’d lived there her whole life and didn’t want to move; she was grown anyway so it wasn’t a big deal for either of them. It did get a bit lonely sometimes, though.

As her stop came into view her smile grew, the thought of being home filled her with a warm comfort. Despite her best efforts, being home just felt better. Outside it was too loud, too crowded, too fast, too overwhelming and just too much. But, behind her walls the world was hers. Everything was to her own tastes from colors to smells to the company allowed inside. It all just felt right.

True to her horrid luck, as soon as she stepped off the bus and began the last leg of her trip the clouds seemed to open and dump their reserves on the Earth. Without the aid of an umbrella the girl groaned and took off at a run in the direction of her house. Mud puddles quickly forming under foot caused her to slip and nearly fall a few times, however, these villainous water monsters were not victorious. Each near disaster was met with a string of colorful curses expertly strung together and left in the girl’s wake.

As her feet pounded up the steps, she yanked her keys from her belt loop and unlocked her front door before barreling through and out of the rain. The door slammed behind her, cutting her off from the rest of the world with a satisfying click of the lock.

“Damn, stupid rain,” she huffed and kicked off her now soaked sneakers with her jacket soon to follow. “Look at me! I’m soaked through! Ah, well, guess it’s time for comfy clothes, anyway.” Keys were tossed onto the counter on her way to the laundry room. Todays outfit of choice was a pair of red, fluffy pajama bottoms with Mickey Mouse heads in different patterns all over them paired with a lovely, worn red camisole covered in old stains.

After changing she checked on her various plants in her kitchen and living room, making sure each one was watered and healthy. Then, she skipped over to her fish tank where her best friend resided.

“There he is!” Charlie called out to the bright yellow cowfish. “How ya doin’ today, Cheese? You want some seaweed?” She pulled the clip from the water and grabbed a piece from the bag stashed under his tank. After replacing it she dried off her hands on the nearby hand towel. “There you go, buddy. Hope you had a better day than me, getting rained on sucks. Maybe you’d like it, though, since you’re a fish and all.” The fish’s eyes seemed to stare into hers as he munched happily on seaweed. “That’s what I thought, bud.”

With a loud sigh she threw herself down onto her sofa in front of the tv and flipped to a random channel. Despite not doing anything too adventurous today she found her eyelids growing heavy as she watched some news anchor try and be funny using a cowbell. Slowly she drifted off to the sound of forced laughter and an out of tune cowbell.

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babyisaclassic · 7 years

Text

#IFallToPieces ||

It was noon when I checked into the Crescent Hotel. I was strung out from the road and pissed off on top of that, so I wasn’t exactly in a chatty mood. Still, I’d come here for a hunt, and I was determined to follow through with it to get myself out of my own head. Anything to stop thinking about...him.

The moment I walked into the large open lobby, I was inundated with the scent of musty carpets and that scent that old ladies have...kind of a mixture of faded roses, oil of Olay, and Menthol rub. The furniture has that sense of faded glory, and I can imagine at one time this place was swarming with people coming to visit the hot springs, but now there are only a few septuagenarians come to visit the antique shops that seem rampant in this place. And then there’s me, standing out like a sore thumb in my jeans and flannel, clearly not fitting in with the rest of the clientele.

“What brings you to Eureka Springs, Mister...Ulrich?” The paunched clerk wrote my name in the ledger, or rather the name on my credit card, barely looking up with more than a glance in my direction.

“Lars...call me Lars.” I gave a bright smile, trying to sell the pseudonym, leaning on the antique wood counter with a weary sigh. “I heard the scenery was spectacular.”

“Well, we’ve no shortage of that,” he said. “I’m putting you in room 135. Just one floor up.”

“You got anything on the top floor? Maybe up on the east wing?” I asked, trying to make the request sound nonchalant. All the reports of ghosts I’d read about were located there, and I was hoping to be placed in one of the haunted rooms.

He looked up at last, a wary expression on his face. “I have one...it...it hasn’t been updated, though. We’re still remodeling floor by floor, and we haven’t gotten to that section yet.

“I don’t mind,” I said, smiling a little broader. “I’m here for the view.”

Oh, he was suspicious all right, but I gave him a look of wide eyed innocence, and he bought it, heaving a sigh and giving in to my request. “Okay. I’ll give you room number 470. Top corner. It’s got windows facing both directions.”

“Sounds perfect,” I said, with an enthusiasm I didn’t feel. Damn @DepravedHero for making me feel so vulnerable.

The man slid the key across the counter to me, then pointed across the lobby to the hallway at the far end. “Elevator is down there and to your right. Stairs too, in case you want to go the old fashioned way.” And he laughed as though he’d said something funny. “Breakfast is included and is in the main dining room from seven to ten thirty. Just bring your key when you come down. Shuttles to downtown arrive every hour from nine until sundown. If you need anything, extra towels or whatever, just ring down to the desk.”

I saw why he mentioned the stairs as soon as I got onto the elevator. The thing was rickety and loud, and it smelled of burnt wiring. By the time I reached the top floor, I’d already decided I’d never step foot in that thing again.

For an old hotel, the room was spacious, though the air was stuffy, and he wasn’t kidding about the decor. It looked stuck in 1910 with a bedspread that looked like something someone’s great aunt Gertie used to keep in her spare room. The mattress creaked when I sat on it, and though I wanted a hot bath, I was too tired to do anything but kick off my boots and sprawl still dressed across the bed, face down, and almost immediately I fell asleep.

When I awoke again, it was dark outside. I’d missed the day entirely, and my head ached. “Fuck,” I said, sitting up and raking a hand through my hair.

It was too late to drive to any of the downtown restaurants, but the hotel bar was still open, and a liquid meal sounded like the best idea of the day.

There was just me and the bartender and an old couple getting sloshed in the corner. Eavesdropping, I overheard them talking about having gotten married earlier that day. They were both on their third or fourth marriage and this was their honeymoon.

Marriage. Not something I wanted to think about /at all/ in my current mood, so I turned my back to them and asked for a bottle of the good stuff, telling the bartender to keep them coming. After all, good old Lars Ulrich would be picking up the tab anyway, so I could afford to get drunk in style.

I drank in silence, ignoring the bartender’s attempts to draw me into conversation. A buddy wasn’t something I was looking for, and I’d be damned if I talked about @DepravedHero to anyone in this place.

The old couple finally moseyed out the door, and I took that as my cue to leave as well. I paid to take the rest of the bottle with me, and gripping it firmly by the neck, I staggered back to my room, leaving the glass behind to drink directly from the bottle.

Bath. I’d been thinking about it all day, and finishing off the rest of my Jim Beam in the claw foot tub I’d seen in that bathroom was the closest to a happy ending for this shittastic day that I was likely to get.

I shucked my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor as the tub filled, and then I eased my weary bones into the water, sighing as I settled back against the porcelain. Steam filled the room, and I rested my head back, taking another drink and then closing my eyes. “Here’s to you, you bastard. You broke me. Hope you’re happy.”

But the hell of it was, I still loved him. I don’t think I’ll ever get over loving him. Even hurt and aching as my heart felt, still I loved @DepravedHero with everything that I was, and I wasn’t going to be the same.

“Drink up, Dean. He’s not worried about your tears, so don’t you waste ‘em on crying anymore.” That was what I murmured to myself, but as for following that instruction...yeah, I was useless. But there was no one to see, and the tub had room to hold a few more drops. I finished the bottle, then set it down on the tile floor with a clink of glass before pulling my arms back inside the tub and letting myself slide down under the surface of the water.

I stayed under until my lungs began to ache, then came back up with a gasp, hair dripping into my eyes. All the salt of my tears had been washed away, and though I was clean, I felt empty inside.

At last I pulled the plug and stepped out, reaching for a towel.

That’s when it happened.

A girl all in white, eyes wide with fear, stood by the door, staring at me. Her hair was wet and her feet were bare and dirty, and I could see her mouthing something, but there wasn’t a sound except the gurgle of the drain and the drip of the water from my skin onto the tiles.

Quickly I wrapped the towel around my waist, staring at her wide eyed. This had to be my ghost. And me with my pants down...literally. No salt. None of my usual tools of the trade. Just me and this ghost girl, staring each other down.

“You...you shouldn’t be here,” I said, trying to sound calm but firm. As if scolding a ghost like a naughty teenager would ever work. “What do you want, huh? You some kind of peeping tom or whatever the girl equivalent of that is?”

She didn’t reply, only shook her head and looked at me plaintively, eyes wide and spectrally dark.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to sneak around in strange men’s bathrooms?” At the mention of her mother, the ghost looked stricken. “Huh. Guess I hit a nerve.”

Suddenly, then, she came rushing toward me, through me, into me, and I gave a shudder from head to toes.

* * * I was standing on the edge of the top floor balcony, my back to the long drop down, looking back toward the exterior door.

“Jocelyn, we can talk about this,” I heard a disembodied voice say. “Your parents don’t have to know.”

“No. You were a teacher. I trusted you. You’re older than me, and I trusted you. Now it’s ruined. Everything’s ruined.”

I could hear her voice in my head plain as day, but it was my mouth that was moving, my voice coming out choked, sobbing, and I felt the cool steel of the railing in my hands as I pressed back against it.

“Don’t you come any closer. I swear I’ll jump.”

That was me too, only it wasn’t me. I couldn’t seem to stop myself. But her pain, god, I felt it. It echoed mine. Love. Pain. Betrayal. A broken heart. She’d loved him and he’d told her it was over. That he’d made a promise to her parents and what they were doing was wrong. Oh...I felt it, and I wept for her...with her, staring wide eyed at the face I couldn’t see but that was never ending for her.

I knew in a flash that she relived this moment every night. All she wanted was for him to reach out to her and tell her it was all right. That he’d been wrong. That he loved her. To wrap his arms around her and never let go.

And he never did. Night after night, he watched as she fell backwards, tumbling, hitting her head on the stone wall of the grand hotel and landing hard on the pavement of the driveway belong. Dead. Just like that.

And for a moment, that seemed like a better way than to keep suffering as I had been.

So tempting. Just to fall and let it be over.

Except it wouldn’t work that way. I’d be trapped here too with her, night after night, luring the lonely and the heartsick to their doom so she wouldn’t have to be so alone.

I understood it.

But I couldn’t give in.

With all my might, I gave a push of spirit and shoved her out.

My heart pounding like mad, I heard a cry of anguish on the wind, and a sudden gust of it threatened to push me over the edge in spite of everything.

“Not this time,” I said, my voice resolute, and I pushed back, rushing toward the doorway that lead back inside the hotel. I was only a few doors down from my room, my door standing wide open. I ran inside and reached for the salt, pouring some quickly at the threshold to keep her out.

The window sashes flew up, curtains blowing outward as the wind knocked out the screens and began pushing me toward the openings, my feet sliding on the hard wooden floor. I grasped the metal bedframe and hung on tight, letting the wind buffet me around.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, but I’m not giving up so soon.” She was clearly enraged by not getting her way, but I began muttering an exorcism under my breath, determined to hang on tight against whatever she might throw my way. “I’m not like you, Jocelyn. I still love him. And I’m not giving up.”

Until I had said it out loud, I hadn’t actually thought it through. But there it was. Honesty. I wasn’t ready to give up. And I did still love @Depraved Hero, even if he was an ass and even if he made all the wrong choices. I loved him. And I wasn’t giving up on him so easily.

Maybe she could feel my resolve. All I know is that the next thing I know, the spirit was gone. Just like that. Everything was still, and I knew I was alone again in the room.

“Goddamn,” I said, staring wide eyed at the windows where the curtains now hung still and straight all the way to the floor. “That’s it. I’m putting on pants. Last time I take a bath in a haunted hotel room.”

If Sam had been with me, I’d have spent time hunting down her body in order to salt and burn it. But I was alone, and frankly, I had something more important to do.

The clerk in the lobby didn’t argue when I came down, bag in hand, to check out in the middle of the night. He simply took the key and smiled, handing me my receipt. “How was the view?”

“One of a kind,” I replied, signing Lars’ name with a flair, and then with a smile, I left, heading out to my waiting Impala, filled with new determination.

#IFallToPieces #solo #depravedhero #Damon Salvatore

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cre0n · 5 years

Text

"DWAL SSAAY ELIHC LRUG WEHW" (My Pet Unpopulars Reversed)

"Time to be quiet"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZ0ECqMHfUQ

Prelude

Creon: First off rest in peace to this decade that got owned. From the phony fake feedback "they" have been reading this for the past several years and I can see people being bothered by it. It's nothing to do with a check or any type of fake fame from "them". I don't get paid for this or even have followers but guess who's reading it. Just think of it as a free schooling or in some cases pure sportsmanship. Where yall think all of that Rebel talk came from? Now all of a sudden a decade later everybody is Rebel this, going against the system that. Folks got Rebel Clothing lines, Rebel mentalities, and Rebellious attitudes. That's the pavement that was laid for you and you and every colored negroe that it meant something to. When your as powerful as this entity inside of my physical body the other side tends to tip their hand occasionally. I don't think "they" try to give it away it's just fear that drives them to surrender unwillingly. Ain't it amazing how some of the most powerful *people* in this Matrix will never make it to your TV screen or trendy news cast that entices humans so much. Could you be able to comprehend or fathom a supreme being that induces so much fear into the hearts of the most evil entities that dwell in this realm? That may be to much for a human to understand. That may even be hilarious to most simpletons but it's meant to draw the mind closer and it's working. The point of this is Top 50, Top 25, Top 5 whatever nobody is bringing the same substance, content, subject matters and skill all in one sitting. Where would your favorites be without the help? Would they even exist to you anymore? They need to piggyback the fame and media to be a dope somebody. You have a fresh start and don't have to do that. I myself don't even know what help is anymore and you should feel the same way. It's in the people to have that power and they should take it. Dumbasses, we don't live in the physical realm you wake up to everyday. The REAL is lived out in your mind. If you reincarnate on this planet after dying, YOU LOST THE GAME. Yes, some of us come here for a sole purpose with the intent of light bearing revelations....Then I think about things again and say maybe I shouldn't complain. Maybe I should just be flattered to say the least. Naw not this time fuck that. It's like one of the homies said, You Can Do All Things Through Christ Except Play With Me. What I'm doing and have been doing and already did is sculpting and designing a coded landscape typical to a highway for all of my "peers" in this so called "community" as grounds for their pitiful souls to maybe one day be spared. Even the jealous and cowardly ones that are the purest of maggots, the ones who try to block your very existence, or just flat out ain't shit know the end game. They even have to bend the knee.

"Spoken"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVijnZylMw0

1. Eye don't respect you and at the same time must protect you They swear this state that their mind is in equals revenue How you call it blessed when frequency filters through mess What is it n*gger you can't see or the fame is humanity's stress The North Pole with machine elves the holy grail My tree of life cannon ball into eternal wells Drink from our chalice the fountain conception Stone Mountain His Russian time machine dream simply will not allow it A treasure chest no jewels to drop it's not for sale Forgot to reload my CERN account black Queens dwell in Hell Now you understand why EYE can't get signed Or go on tour for decades behind the black man's mind Let's overstand this sovereign case them people scared Came back to the planet ONE last time yall still unprepared

2. Wool robe eyes like the burning bush sandals bronze Magnetic field and aura like a lunar groupon Infinte is 8 we ate never ending planes Cut off by a cracked firmament our Summer's Gate reign Sea monsters like a Cripp by the Island of Thoth It's still moving yall still with me right?.... Cough Young brothas my Saturn Matrix black can't date no Iggy's They tryna turn Gibbs and Benny into new Pac's and Biggie Pay attention these folks is evil Dedication to easels.... draw

MJ KICK

"Model Duck Waddle"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=StNUu-ayD4Y

Hella yaass young mamas got a story to tell CreezyBae from Souf Kak and keep that A-T-L A heartless reinforcer, socery is an order Magic shows blow some smoke up ya butt with this quarter Nada no nothing so don't be posing & stuntin' Curriculum spins this axis so wtf is you askin'? Babe it can't be love, 'cause love don't love a soul And all the likes and comments in the world gets old Now all you got in ya life that air mattress with the plastic cups That cash app still working don't it? Hit em up You selling selfies and an advantage time still passing Several years later recommended by the garbage tragic Been underground for decades it made me an animal That orange box cutter didn't come with no manual Annual, pussy makes the world go flat And plus we fuckin', don't do no homegurl chillin' jack (BIG FACTS)

.....(Shuckin' x Jivin')........

"The Roth"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFViVsYLK84

Eye swear to White God Eye love wasting humans time 7 summers later that dumb bitch God is a *crime* Pinot Noir and your whole outlook The way you teach the children, straight from a crackas book Yall slaves kill me with this top 5 bullshit The whole industry revolving door pulpits Talking bout they positive movements with negative fads Well tell the folks the whole truth you hypocrite scabs Let's pull the strings and the puppets out I don't even need the sticks Wasting time on the couch flickin' this BIC (5th bedroom) Eye love my brothers to death even wished them death (huh?) Now feel the release, illuminastic reps Get BIG nigga 500k nothing less Yes the FEDS watching 2012 InkTober droppin' Yeah yall wasting time repeat the Matrix get the grind? My peers once again 3D chasing bags Eye'm at the North Pole Holy Grail Tree of EVERLAST (punching bag) "Til this day" Creon built lanes even for trash Walking on the highway then loiter off the exit stashed

............ "that part cost" -Coach

Before you learn to win you need dimensional Facts Rule 1: The 5th plane is Universal crack Rule 2: The time machines run everything back Now the whole community is back on his sack Bar none with more bars and stars than an Admiral match it Enough lower back blows she need a flak jacket We know a Propain who got special stanzas trapmatic Lost tapes, still buried outlandish Ridiculous approaches got my yella ass banned (Red) Or am Eye, he too heavy banned to a skid crammed Jammed up at some port with no support scammed Seems like the customer got another custom plan With even more bars than an empty Fort Knox Pen carries weight like the sky blue Ox Or maybe it's a Bull, bullish trending up sell now The purgatory princess gets raped by their cash cow Sodomite Gentiles flag for jumping on the pile (my fault) The Kings circle of life Creon is Royalty Blacker than the thought of the roots of a Sequoia tree...

"You don't just Like"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poB4dtpTdLQ

Can't leave out the conscious folks on his way to 7 Creon stay jammin' harder than a Mac-11 Boppin' with that NoTep confidence From the old moon to Hapis stop your nonsense Masterful the pen glides prolific spill aesthetics More Hennessy for Carolina Cardi twerk sessions Got crackas seeing red they hate the message Don't message me just tag it yellow trend your own blessings cave pathetics The rose bloomed solid gold it's stems were magnetic Thorns crystallized easter eggs they found a Holy relic Breaking Matrix codes exposing Lyor's racist ass said it Donate a dollar and help the black channel out reverend You love this world so much well try not to get me pissed From now on Eye'm coming after souls next level shit...

**Hook**

Slangin' yarn in the yard lets get back to positive "The left field neighbor is the hardest kid" Was the agrument convincing me to slaughter this & still ended up lonely cause' the targets split The youngins say "lit" the crop a Megan Markel wrist 50 niggas deep somebody wrist game dope Bruh Eye give the soldout hope Make a famous fucka have to cope With the bullshit around them straight smoke May the Lord Jacob guide Baphomet in his prime As the Sirius Avyon one Universal mind Co-exist on a platform without porn shine Los Santos musik "Shittin while we Flyin" Etheric values nigga, the fallen and the risen In God mode the affirmations of metaphysics.....

"Dreams Don't Exist"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gc2ge9degkI

Can we just accept the stars at night & how the vibration sound waves replicate light Is the speed of bright faster than a black idea Are my peers slow or simple just backed up fears Been droppin' content on 9/11's, 23's, and the 13's With more New Jack swings for gangsta leans She clappin' it with no jumping he blowing gangsta green Choreograph a whole dance routine Be on some happy shit hoes wanna say Eye'm mean Just don't wake me up walking dead heroin fiends Moving around the room fly girls and crush grooves Been a shadow all summer pullin' J-moves Eye'm smoking bomb ass weed feelin' crucial They made sidewalks for black frats the feelings mutual Eye'm getting stalked by some bomb ass coochie & some of them rich legit never been a groupie......

...... & if yall can't relate then sue me (500k)

"Normalize the knob...tf"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGlXCLQ9aIw

For the new 16 Creon charging 2 properties And this was just a temporary situation now pardon me That's just some little money, the prophecy They saying buddy there's no chance you son of a slut You son of a bastard, you son of a bitch, you son of a mutt Eye got an angel now Eye'm summing it up You son of that cut, you son of that step, you son of that raw We Suns of the 7 summers son of a pause.... .....Moving Islands of Thoth A moving violation will get your team caught The Summer's gate will get a sea monster for da free Lifetimes of limitless mastery Education, the soul is sold separately They ran out of Isotol to stretch the peace The whole album ended ran out of doggystyle to stretch the grease Dumb lil boy this ain't no NBA Envy great, pay your fares then Camelot shares Run the highway like a state chair (votes) State of Emergency Profoundly unearthining The blackest clout to create words surfing on the nearest curb Lickin' souls like them lizards whether Eye'm slizzard or sober From Langford to the Boulder-crest up to Panola Teach my Sun don't be a slave, certified owners Initially lobbied for peace Mishaps happen summoning beast Iron throne let the Ice wall melt in the streets...

Peace

#summerisdead #fallclassics #7 #$500k #winternights #pale horse #black lion #white sheep #grey wolf

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sherryandbelle-blog · 7 years

Text

Sherry and Belle: Chapter 6

Sherry passed a few stacked papers to a father and his son, the same two from the storm clean up incident, "Do ya want ta give 'im a name?" the boss kindly asked the boy. He looked down at the white pitbull pup with a loving gaze, "Piggy. 'Cause he has a pink nose!" the father smiled at his boy, then passed the sighed slip back while rolling up the rest. "How about 'buddy'? That way the real pigs don't think yer tryin' to call THEM into the house." The son happily nodded in agreement, then sat up off of the scratchy office carpet, bright red leash firmly in hand. "Thank ya, Mrs. Autumn, and thank ya again, Belle. This little guy wouldn't be runnin' 'round like 'e is now if it weren't for ya." The father warmly smiled at the two behind the office desk; Belle gratefully nodded as the family walked through the metal door. Sherry waited for a few long moments, then sighed in relief as she heard the duo start to pull out of the gravel driveway, {Ugh, this office STILL reeks o' wet dog from the storm.} the woman reflected as she stood from the hard, plastic chair behind her desk. "Wait, ARE you a missus-" "Nope! Let's go walk the dogs." Sherry promptly directed Belle down the concrete stairs, and into the kennel area; the dogs had all pretty much finished their water, so it was time for a morning walk before their meals. The boss grabbed a small handful of leashes, tossing half of them to the boy, who leashed up a couple of smaller dogs, then approached Pansy, who would usually jump up to greet folks. The woman walked over to the somewhat concerned looking boy, examining the pregnant dog, who only gratified her visitors with a vacant glance, before laying her head back down onto the cold floor. "She did not drink any of her water." Belle informed Sherry, "Maybe she's just not fully awake yet, we can pick 'er up on a later walk." the boy nodded, then went over and leashed the dog in the cage next to Pansy's. The two took the small pack of dogs outside, leisurely taking them around the building several times, before returning them to their respective cages; they continued to repeat the process, until it was Pansy's turn. "Come on, Pansy." The boy looked over his shoulder at Sherry, then back to the depressed looking dog, "Hey... why don't ya go feed the other dogs while I 'ave a look at 'er." the woman watched Belle give a defeated nod, before trudging over to the dog food. "What's wrong, girl?" The German shepherd slowly looked up with big, sad eyes; Sherry then noticed the dog's shallow, rapid breathing, {Uh oh.}. The boss quietly slipped through the metal door, dialing a nearby vet as she walked up into the office, "Hello, how may I help ya?" "Hey, it's Sherry. I think I might 'ave a sick dog at the shelter." "Yeesh... yer lucky, if you 'ad called me a bit later, I would've only been able ta visit ya early in the night. Be right over-" "MS. AUTAMN!!!" Sherry quickly hung up, then sprinted down the stairs. Belle was on his knees just outside of Pansy's cage, with the dog collapsed right in front of him, "Wha-" "I went to give her food, but she tried to run, shortly before collapsing!" Belle was trembling as he spoke. The woman stared over at the pregnant dog's cage, which had a large bag of dog food spilled out inside of it, before looking back at the unconscious dog. "I called a vet to come see 'er, it's okay." Sherry tried to reassure the boy, but he still looked devastated. ●●● Belle rolled his food around on his plate with a couple of chopsticks, {Darn, I thought bringin' 'im ta dinner might cheer 'im up... guess that's not the case, though.} Sherry glanced at the boy's distant, blue eyes, before staring back at her stir fried vegetables. "What if she doesn't return to good health before she has the chance to bare her young?" Belle abruptly asked, his blank stare still piercing his nearly untouched meal. "Well, she's with the vet now; she's in good hands, I assure ya." The woman watched as he lightly smiled, "Now go ahead an' eat, that clam stir fry ain't cheap, y'know." the boy nodded, then began attempting to use his chopsticks as actual eating utensils. "Welcome to 'Woks of Life', how is your food this evening?" A male waiter politely asked as he walked by, "It is pleasant." Belle noted, Sherry just gave a nod in agreement, seemingly satisfying the worker. "So..." The boy waited for the worker to leave before speaking again, "What will happen to Pansy's young if she pulls through?" the boss lightly smiled, "Well, when they're old 'nough, they'll be adopted, just like the other dogs, though puppies tend to sell a lot better than the older ones." she explained. "How did you come to own her?" Belle asked, before beginning to stuff his face, "A small family adopted her from a German shepard breeder; they moved into this area, and eventually learned that they couldn't afford ta take care of 'er, so they dropped her off in a random neighborhood. Jerald and David found her starving during a clean up, and together, we nursed her back to health. Later we learned that she was pregnant, and the locals filled us in on the rest; she's a very sweet dog despite what she went through.". "Wow... does every dog you own have a story like that?" He curiously pondered, "Eh, not quite. Several of 'em were transferred to my shelter due to another shelter bein' too backed up, some were directly given to me, but a few have some stories." Sherry placed a twenty on the bill as it arrived, then a few ones as a tip, before standing to stretch. "Thank you for the meal." Belle quickly stood up and thanked a random waiter, before the two left the small restaurant. "Darn..." The woman muttered as she unlocked her truck, "What is it, Ms. Autumn?" "I needed ta get another tin o' coffee today, but it slipped my mind." She sighed, starting her vehicle, and lighting up half of the small parking lot with her headlights. "Why not retrieve some from the convenience store on the way home?" "Well, this ain't the greatest part of town, but I s'ppose if it's just in and out..." Sherry nodded, then began driving toward the nearest grocer that was open at that time of night. She pulled her red truck into a small, unkempt parking lot, before staring at her steering wheel for a few seconds, "I could get the coffee if you do not want to." Belle offered. "Oh, ya sure?" The boy happily nodded, "I remember what brand you had on your counter, as well. I will be right back." he hopped out and closed the door behind him, leaving Sherry in the dark parking lot. She turned her truck off, then leaned back in her seat, {I should make that kid breakfast tomorrow. I still have about half a pack of bacon left in the fridge at home, and I'm sure I have close to a full carton of eggs... heck, I'll even make stuffed hash browns, I'll show 'im some REAL American cookin'-} Sherry shuttered as someone knocked on her driver side window. "Hey... do ya h've any sp're change?" A foul reeking man asked expectantly, "N-no." She went to quickly roll her window back up, but the man forcefully grabbed the top of it. "Get out." He ordered, and as if on cue, two more figures walked out of the darkness surrounding the edge of the parking lot, one, Sherry noticed, had a sleek, metallic object partially hidden in his grasp. The woman stared in horror as the first mugger slowly began opening her door, "NO!!!" she snapped out of her trance, clasping onto her door handle, and forcing the door back shut with both hands. "OPEN UP!!!" The hideous man shouted in an abrupt fury, tightening his grasp on both the slightly shut window, and the door handle, shaking the entire vehicle as he tried to pull the door open. A painful shriek came out of Sherry as the two larger men circled the front of the rocking truck, opening the passenger door, and beginning to climb inside. "NO NO!!! STOP!!!" The petrified woman loudly cried out as one of the men tightly grabbed her right arm, a crusty knife was loosely held in his other hand. "HEY!!!" An infuriated voice roared out, followed by a tall figure body slamming the man by the passenger door to the hard ground. Sherry watched in shock as Belle suddenly clamped his hand around the assailant's wrist, viciously tearing him out of the vehicle and shoving him to the pavement, slamming the door afterwards. The woman caught a look of severe annoyance off of Belle's face as he stormed past the front of the truck, before ripping the scrawny man off of the driver side door by the back of his neck, and quickly placed him in a full Nelson. The two larger men stumbled up and immediately booked it out of sight as the sound of police sirens began growing closer; the first man desperately tried to squirm away, but the boy only tightened his grip. Sherry breathed a small sigh of relief as two Amarillo police cars pulled into the parking lot, completely illuminating the area in red and blue light. A store employee rushed out of the front doors, a plastic bag containing a good sized tin was clenched in one of his hands, a lit up cell phone was in the other. The filthy man suddenly slipped out of Belle's grasp, making a beeline away from the parking lot, only for two police officers to hop out of one cruiser, and sprint after him. ●●● Sherry slowly pulled into her driveway, staring at her steering wheel for a few seconds, before taking the keys out of her truck, and hopping out, only to get stuck staring at her feet. "Sorry about what happened..." Belle nervously approached the stunned woman, "N-no... thank you." she slowly looked up at her dark house, then began trudging toward the front door. "D... do you want me to place the coffee next to the coffee pot?" The boy asked in a sweetly soft voice once they entered the living room, Sherry nodded, then gazed up at the stairs, "I'm... goin' ta go to sleep." she said in a deflated tone, before leaving the guest downstairs.

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