#thinkin about how afraid i am of death is. comforting in a way that is hard to describe

[spritespi]

how beautiful it is to rediscover a genuine love of life

[icyheart-and-friends]

now that im a lil more awake and clear headed for now am gonna continue based off of theSelin and his attachment to his capes posts I made last night bc i got thinkin bout maybe *why* he would be so attached to the capes other then well- not being neurotypical jdgsdfgsdj

and I got big sad ideas so am gonna put them under the cut

So it also got me to thinking a little bit bout Selin’s parents bc I know damn well that if they hadn’t been killed then Selin would’ve grown up to be a pretty decent person emotionally bc dragons have a LOT of needs that even a village of people cant keep up to bc it requires at least one dragon to properly raise another.  So I was thinking bout every time Selin’s parents both had to go do something important they would always try to set everything up so the village could take care of him just enough until they returned, and for these two dragons specifically it would involve wrapping him in a blanket that had emeralds woven into it. (They believed Emeralds had protective and comforting properties and they did, just only for Selin though)  Selin still remembers the day, his parents set everything up for one of them to be back within two hours. Just like every other time they were very apologetic and comforting while he asked why couldn’t just one of them stay and then when the other comes back the first one could go? They took turns holding him and comforting while the other was setting things up. They were getting him tired and sleepy so he would sleep for the time they were gone to make it easier on the village folk.  He remembers them wrapping him in the blanket that had so many small pieces of emeralds in it that it looked as if the blanket itself was green and how when it shifted in the light it was like a new pattern formed on it. The same blanket he would hide under during really loud storms before he learned to not be afraid of them, before he grew to love the storms. He remembers drifting to sleep as his parents kissed his head before saying ‘we’ll be back’ before they left.  Then he remembers waking up hours later, when his parents had left it was bright outside and now it was dark. There were at least 10 different sets of eyes stareing at him. Sure the village folk would take care of selin but they’ve never been this close to him while he was awake, let alone when his parents were so late to return. They weren’t sure how the young dragon was going to react.  The first hour was calm with some anxiety, the folk helped him tie the blanket around him like a cape so he could pace when he wasn’t looking out the windows. He remembers them muttering trying to figure out what to do, while he could understand them they couldnt understand him as he hadn’t yet learned how to speak english other than ‘i, me, you, them’, he only knew how to speak in dragon tongue.  the second hour is where his panic started to set in as a storm was starting. How would his parents find their way back in the storm?? it’d be really difficult to see! What if they miss the village and get lost?? and couldn’t find their way back? flying in rain can be a lot harder than flying in clear weather especially if you’re already tired! The villagers had a hard time trying to calm him down as he started to run through the house, hoping maybe they had already come home and they were sleeping and wanted to let him sleep and that’s why they didn’t wake him up or come out yet!  After that he just remembers running in the rain, crying both literally and crying out for his parents. The village folk were worriedly shouting his name while some chased him just so if he got lost they could guide him back. Which did eventually happen.  He remembers sitting and looking up at the pieces of the sky he could see through the trees while his blanket did its best to protect him from the rain. Sure he was terrified of each thunder he heard and every flash of lightning but he was more terrified bout the fact his parents weren’t back yet. That they had just... disappeared. He remembers holding on tight to the blanket. Until eventually one of the villagers that did follow him walked over to him and simply just said “Come on, lets go and get you warmed up. You’re shaking like a leaf.” and he listened. he walked with them all the way back to the village, crying hiccuping and shaking the entire time. That was the first night most of the village stayed in his house. It wasn’t the last either, every time he requested for some of them to stay the night they would without question. He always held on close to the blanket which as he got bigger eventually turned into a cape as it got too small to be used as a blanket.  Before moving into the city he got replicas made with dyed fabric instead of emeralds and the village folk even added on little details to remind him that they were still there for him like how he was for them.  In the city he never wears the original, for fear of losing the last memento of his parents that he can take with him. Sure he has the house back at the village but it’s basically been converted into a church based around him at this point so it’s not the same. It’s not like the blanket.  He still catches himself thinking that his parents just.. disappeared and maybe one day they’ll show up at the village. Though the more reasonable part of him says otherwise.

[benedictsvestcollection]

Ever Ever After- A Whiskey x reader Modern Cinderella fic

Rating: T for some swearing mostly!

Warnings: Ummmm.... Mentions of death, fluff, sweetness and stepmom being a bitch. 

Word count: 2.3K

A/N: Tomorrow is @absurdthirst‘s birthday so this chapter is dedicated to you my darling! Happy early birthday!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

As soon as Jack and Ginger were in the back of the towncar and away from prying eyes, Jack heaved a heavy sigh. “I do not like that woman.” He growled as Ginger began typing away an email to Champ. 

He hadn’t stopped thinking about the way Miranda had spoken to you, her own step-daughter. The entire day, he had witnessed you being treated with such disdain and rudeness. 

“Your dentist is going to hate you when they find out you’ve been grinding your teeth so much today.” Ginger teased him, spying the way Jack clenched his jaw so much. Mad on your behalf. A woman, he barely knew but already felt innately protective of. 

“Who the hell talks to their family like that?” He asked her. “She was nothing but sweet and hardworking all day and they just… Spoke to her like that.” 

“Terrible people. They’re terrible people Jack.” Ginger told him simply, knowing he had asked a rhetorical question. But answering him nonetheless. 

Jack sighed, knowing she was right. “Do we have anything on the daughters?” He asked her, changing the subject. 

Ginger shook her head. “As far as I can tell, they’re just spoiled bitches.” She muttered. “But not aware of what their mom is up to.” 

“Like mother, like daughters.” Jack muttered out with a huff. 

“You like her.” Ginger stated matter of factly. “And not just in a ‘what a sweet girl’, or ‘she’s part of the mission’ kind of way.” She teased him. 

He merely grunted in response and shifted in his seat, readjusting his suit jacket. Glaring at Ginger while she smirked from her phone. She was right and he hated that she was. 

“I like her too. Just maybe not in the same way you do.” She continued on, smirk still on her face.

“You done Ging?” He muttered at her grumpily. “We have work to do.” 

~~~~~~~~~

You sighed in contentment inhaling your french toast, bacon, eggs and coffee at your favorite diner. You had cleverly booked your stepmother and sisters for a spa weekend. But in reality, it had been for you. A peaceful weekend to yourself with no work to do. So now, you were treating yourself to brunch at your favorite New York diner. 

“Well, well, well… Isn’t this a welcome sight for sore eyes.” Came a southern drawl over you. Warm like bourbon and comforting like a worn in fall sweater. 

You looked up to see warm brown eyes and a mustache smirk looking down at you in your booth. 

“Oh… Hello Mr. Daniels.” You stammered out at him, suddenly even more relieved that your stepmom and sisters weren’t around, let alone didn’t hang out in your area or they’d accuse you of ruining things by simply talking to him. 

“Oh please darlin’. Call me Jack. Mr. Daniels makes me feel old.” He grinned at you and slid into the booth across from you and ordered a coffee.

“I um… This doesn’t seem like the kind of place you would come to.” You told him nervously. 

“Why? Because I’m the CEO of a distillery?” He teased you. “Darlin’ I was born in Kentucky and went to school in Texas. I’m a cowboy through and through. A diner don’t scare me.” 

You blushed. Why was he here? If word got back to your stepmom and sisters… You didn’t want to think about what they’d do. 

“I need to go.” 

Jack’s hand flashed out and gently took yours. “You have to work on a weekend?” He asked you worried, almost. Like he somehow knew that you worked too much or something. 

“No actually, I just… I don’t get weekends usually so I have stuff I wanted to get done is all.” You shrugged. It wasn’t a total lie, you did have things you wanted to do. Laundry, cleaning your apartment and grocery shopping. But mostly, you were afraid you were going to get caught with Jack Daniels and you didn’t need that drama in your life. You had enough with your family. 

Jack nodded at you. “I understand, can I at least walk you home?” He asked you as he stood with you.

“I-” You were cut off by your phone vibrating in your jeans pocket. “Son of a bitch… Sorry.” You muttered at him as you scowled at the screen. Seeing your stepmother’s name demanding you answer. 

“Yes?” You sighed as you reluctantly answered the phone. Trying to ignore the way Jack was staring at and studying you intently. 

“I need you to go upstate and buy pumpkins.” She responded on the other end of the phone. 

“Pumpkins? Why?” You asked her with a huff.

“Because it’s fall and I want the offices decorated.” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes at what she thought was a stupid question.

“Okay…” You sighed at her once more. “How many do you want me to get?” You asked her. 

“Fifty. I want the office completely decorated for the season.” She told you. “Oh also, maybe get some hay bales too.” 

“Fifty?!” You asked her, jaw dropping in shock. Where in the hell were you supposed to put them? Being New York, you didn’t even have a car. 

“Stop repeating everything I say and just get there and do it.” She snapped and hung up on you.

“Yes ma’am.” You muttered at your phone sarcastically and then tossed it into your purse aggressively. “Well now I do have to work Mr. Daniels.” You grumbled. 

“Kind of difficult to not overhear that conversation.” He admitted softly, almost like he felt sorry for you. “You okay?” He asked you gently. 

“Yeah, I’m great. I have to give up my Saturday, somehow get upstate. Buy fifty pumpkins in various sizes and some bales of hay and get them all back to the office.” You muttered. “Guess I’m renting a car for the day.” 

“Well, she’ll pay for that won’t she?” He asked you, deep down already knowing the answer but wanting to hear you confirm it. 

You snorted. “Yeah right. I practically run the company and I’m living in a shitty studio apartment.” 

Jack frowned at that. “Well then darlin’. I wouldn’t be a southern gentleman if I didn’t offer to help you. I’ve got my Bronco out front and the day off.” He rumbled in your ear. “And don’t you worry, they won’t find out you were helped.” He promised you as he led you outside to his truck. 

“Mr. Daniels I can’t… Ask you to do that.” You insisted as you chewed your bottom lip anxiously. 

“You didn’t ask. I offered. And please… Call me Jack.” He reminded you as he opened the passenger door for you. “Please, I want to help.” 

Honestly, the idea of spending any kind of time with this handsome and charming man was appealing. Plus, you really didn’t feel like spending any of your hard earned money on a rental for a day when you had a truck being offered to you. 

“Okay. Thank you… Jack.” You finally relented with a small, shy smile at him as you climbed up into the passenger seat of his truck. 

He released his gentle hold on your elbow and smiled at you. “You’re welcome darlin’.” He smiled at you as he moved to the driver’s side and started it up.

An hour later, Jack parked his truck in the gravel parking lot. 

“Damn, pumpkin patches sure have changed since I was a kid.” You muttered, taking in the expanse of acreage. An actual pumpkin patch, gift shop, a moonbounce, pony rides and a hay ride. 

Jack let out a whistle and casually tossed his arm over your shoulder. “You said it darlin’.” He agreed and led you to the patch. 

“Haven’t done this since I was a kid with my dad.” You murmured wistfully. 

Jack paused for a split second when you said that. “I’m so sorry.” He rubbed your arm gently. 

You shrugged. “It’s okay.” 

“How uh… How did he die?” He asked gently. 

You wiped a tear from your eye. “Got sick suddenly. Doctor’s couldn’t really explain it. First they thought it was the flu because I got sick too. But he uh… Didn’t make it.” 

“You both got the flu at the same time?” He asked you, brows furrowed in thought. 

“Wasn’t the flu. The only explanation the doctors had was food poisoning.” You mumbled as you both began wandering the patch together. 

“But he… Didn’t make it.” He finished the thought you were internalizing. 

“And I did.” You mused bitterly. 

“Hey now… I won’t have you thinkin’ that way. It ain’t your fault that you both got sick and you didn’t die. I, for one am glad you’re here.” 

Tears were falling down your cheeks now. “He was my best friend and now he’s just… Gone.” 

Quickly, Jack pulled you over to a set of hay bales and faced you. “Loss is never easy to deal with darlin’. But you don’t have to grieve alone.” He reassured you, thumbs gently rubbing the inside of your wrists. 

“You’ve met my stepmom and sisters… Right?” You asked him with a garbled laugh. 

“Look at you, makin’ jokes.” He grinned at you before he instinctively leaned forward to kiss your temple. 

You froze at the sweet gesture, surrounded by his overwhelming scent before you gave in and sank into his arms. For the first time in over a year, you felt safe with someone. Actually cared for. “Thank you… Jack.” You mumbled into his chest.

“Anytime darlin’.” He promised you. “Now… I do believe that we have pumpkins and hay bales to blow on, your stepmother’s money.” He teased you. 

You laughed again and nodded at him. “Yeah… Okay.” 

“Now, you dry your eyes. I’ll go get a wagon for all these pumpkins we have to buy.” 

You nodded and started to browse the pumpkins as Jack went to get a wagon to tote around. 

“Ginger, I need you to look into the medical records or her and her father. Somethin’s off here.” Jack said over the phone. 

“It is awfully convenient that they both got sick and in the hospital. While the father died.” She admitted on the other end of the phone. 

“Not to mention that the stepmom took control of the empire after he died and she was deathly ill in the hospital.” He growled out. 

“Easy there cowboy. Now that we’re here we’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.” Ginger soothed him. “Now go back to your pumpkin date. I’ll look into this.” 

“Sorry about that darlin’. Was just informin’ Ginger that I wouldn’t be available the rest of the day.” He told you with a smile. 

“It’s okay.” You told him with a shy smile and placed two pumpkins in the wagon. 

The rest of the day proceeded with Jack dutifully toting the wagon around for you. Emptying it into his truck as it got full and they were paid. You bought hay bales, a scarecrow for the reception area and a bushel of apples. 

“You sure do love fall darlin’.” He teased you as you hopped into his truck and sighed. 

“I just... Figured since I was here, the apples are for baking and a couple of pumpkins for my place.” You blushed and shrugged.

It was after nine by the time Jack finally pulled back in front of your building. They had dropped off most of the supplies at the office. 

“Let me help you get this upstairs.” He insisted. “Otherwise you’re going to have to make two trips with this basket of apples and both your pumpkins.” 

“Jack I-” You started, not wanting him to do more for you than he already had. 

“Please… There’s somethin’ I feel like I need to tell you.” He explained to you gently. “Preferably upstairs and not on a New York street.” 

“Tell me… What?” You asked him anxiously. 

“It’s alright. Let’s just get upstairs.” He soothed you.

Nervously, you led the way into your small apartment and set your pumpkins down on your kitchen counter. “What… Uh… What’s going on?” You asked him.

Jack set the basket of apples down next to your pumpkins and placed his hand on your back. “Let’s sit down.” He suggested. 

“Jack I… What’s wrong?” You asked him, hands twisting together anxiously. 

“I’m not exactly the CEO of the Statesman distillery.” He told you simply, staring at you. 

“You’re… What?” You asked him, face scrunched up in confusion.

“Statesman is an independent intelligence agency and I work for them.” He explained to you. “I’m a spy.” 

“You’re a what?” You repeated to him. 

“I know this is difficult to absorb.” He explained to you. “I’m investigatin’ your stepmom’s dealin’ with the company.” 

“Oh so… You were spending time with me for a… Mission?” You asked him. 

“It started off like that, but… You’re very sweet and I’m lookin’ out for you.” He explained. “I’m tryin’ to help you. But I need your help too, if you’re willin’ to help me.” 

“Help you how?” You asked softly.

Jack moved closer to you. “I need someone inside the company, and you’re perfect.” 

You knew he meant for helping him but, him calling you perfect made you blush. “Perfect how?”

“Look, I don’t wanna pressure you into doin’ somethin’ without you thinkin’ or sleepin’ on it.” He explained softly, as he rubbed your wrists softly. “Why don’t you sleep on it and you call me tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, that might be best. I uh… Don’t want my family to find out about this.” You explained nervously. 

“I completely understand darlin’. You think on it, and let me know. Alright? No pressure, I promise.” 

You practically melted as he ran his knuckles gently along your cheekbone. You nodded at him and smiled shyly at him. “Okay.”

“Good night darlin’.” He murmured in your ear. 

“Good night Jack.” You returned as he finally departed your apartment and you considered his news and offer to you.

Tag list:

@absurdthirst, @spacegayofficial, @lilangeldevil006, @manda-but-not-lorian, @emmymarierivia, @din-djarin-protection-squad, @nope-itsnopi, @gothgirl1362-blog, @deafspaceperson, @auty-ren, @luminescentlily, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @babe-dont, @dreamgirl-6781-blog, @katialvi, @zoe-rachel-crisp, @cryptkeepersoul, @jaa1682-27, @katheriner1999, @promiscuoussatan, @paintballkid711, @marvelranger, @owljumper, @girlwithanewplan, @iellarenuodolorian, @lost-girl-inc, @f0rever15elf, @mrschiltoncat, @hillarymurray4, @seejayyou 

Sorry some of my tags aren’t fully working! XOXO

[shes-fast-like-me]

Day Seventeen: Home

Day Seventeen: Home

TW: Discussion of drug addiction, sobriety, mental illness, relapse, abandonment issues and suicide. Mentions of vomit/nausea. Ask to tag!

Pairing: Established Lifetane (you know me :P)

this is decades late but i still wanted to post this even tho i didnt finish the challenge so. here ya go

If you like it, please reblog it!!!

=+=+=+=

He wakes up pretty late these days but it's okay. Ajay says it's probably better for him than his old schedule of going to bed at 5am just to wake up at 8am for a morning jog. Running on three hours of sleep his whole life wasn't healthy, according to her. Well, maybe he could see some truth in that.

Waking up to an empty, messy pink room was always nice. The blinds at the window did a poor job of masking the fact that it was almost noon and that Ajay had been awake for several hours already, starting the day without him.

He didn't feel like getting out of bed.

Maybe he was just tired or it was the anxiety eating him up from last night but he didn't want to stop sleeping. For the first time in decades, sleeping felt genuinely comforting to him and he'd hate to leave now and lose the comfort and warmth of their shared bed.

Or maybe it was withdrawals, making it hard for him to lift his head off the pillow and get up to put on his legs and start another day without his crutch. It was so damn hard to get through a day without at least one substance, but he was doing okay. Two weeks sober. A small victory but a victory nonetheless, Ajay had said. He wasn't really feeling like a winner right now though. This feeling sucked.

A twist in his stomach and a wetness in his mouth as he lifted his head confirmed his suspicions. Yep, definitely withdrawals. He knew he wasn't going to actually vomit though, but the thought still crossed his mind. He forced himself to stand up.

The world outside their bedroom was a lot brighter than the gloomy, sun-shielded bedroom. Honestly, Ajay should just leave the blinds open in the mornings despite the sun shining directly into Octavio's sleeping face. Maybe it'd wake him up in a happier mood.

"How yuh doin'?"

In the kitchen, Ajay stood over a pan of sizzling eggs, still in her pyjama shorts and in one of his many black t-shirts with some band's logo on it. His eyes definitely lingered on her frame before he crept towards her and wrapped his arms around her middle.

"Am fine." He mumbled into her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck. Honestly, his back kinda hurt from sleeping in his usual overly-contorted way but besides that and his withdrawal symptoms he was definitely better than he had been yesterday.

Ajay hummed, "Tha's good to hear."

Honestly he didn't wanna let her go but she needed to move in order to finish up their 'breakfast', if you could even call it that at this hour. It was nearly 2pm, he noted from glancing at the clock above her.

He leaned on the counter next to the stove and watched quietly as the eggs sizzled and spat oil around on the pan.

He wanted Stim, just for little bit, just to go for a short morning run, but he was tired. He couldn't mess up his two week sobriety streak now either. Plus, Ajay would be disappointed in him and that would hurt more than the actual drug use. He glanced at her face fearfully as if to check if she was reading his thoughts. Sometimes when he thought too loudly he was afraid others would hear him and realize what a fuck up he was. He didn't want Ajay to know he was struggling that bad.

"Whatcha thinkin' about? You're starin' at me." Ajay mused and smiled, plopping the eggs onto two plates with some bacon on the side.

Embarrassed, he dropped his gaze. "Nothin’.”

Ajay nodded for him to walk over to the table as she handed him his plate. They sat down together, Ajay bumping her pedicured feet up against where Octavio's stumps met his prosthetic legs under the table.

"Yuh father called this morning."

Octavio's blood suddenly ran cold and he winced. "What did he want?"

"Askin' about the holidays, thinks he's gettin' invited over," She picked at her food with her fork, "I told him to piss off."

A small smile crept onto his face at that. At least Ajay had his back.

"Mm, I dunno, nena. Weren't you gonna visit your Nana in Olympus before we go back to Talos for the next season?"

"Plans changed," she shrugged, "I'd rather stay with you here."

He furrowed a brow. "I could come with you, you know."

"There's no reason for us to go to Olympus again. This is our home now." She said firmly.

Home, huh? Her little apartment on Psamathe, in a small, rural area away from Olympus and the big cities...

Our home, she said. With Octavio included in it. Granted, he had lived with her for the past three months or so but he never thought of it as being permanent. Would she really let him live here with her?

"I can see the gears turnin' in your head, O. Did ya think I would just kick ya out after a while?" She joked and Octavio knew it was playful but... something about her wording really struck a nerve within him and before he could even realise and stop it, the tears were in his eyes.

What’s happening? Why was he so scared of her leaving? Why did he even consider this as a possibility?

"....Yeah." His voice wavered.

It felt like he was with his father and the world was crashing around him all over again. He could remember how mad his father was when he refused to let Octavio come back home, how he said he had had enough of dealing with his failure of a son, told him that he's an adult now and could just fend for himself now. He remembered ending up on Ajay's couch, and later in her bed, that first night and how terrified he was. Nausea clawed at his stomach. Everything was coming back to him so violently, it felt like he was back to being a scared, broken man at the doorstep of his father's home. Overwhelmed.

"O, it's alright, I didn't mean it like that." Ajay stood up and he could barely make out her silhouette through the blurriness in his eyes. He was shaking and when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he instinctively pulled her closer, almost as if holding on for his dear life.

He didn't want to be left alone again. Not by her. He couldn't deal with it. He wouldn't live through the loss. He'd have such a destructive breakdown, he'd lose his streak and kill himself in the process. He just knew it, he just knew he couldn’t survive without her. It’d kill him. It'd be a death sentence.

"I'm not leavin' ya. Ever. You hear me?" She rubbed his back as his tears sunk into her shoulder.

"I'm not leavin'. It's okay."

He nodded. He wanted to believe it, needed to.

"This is our home now, O. You're gonna be alright."

Octavio's whole body shook against hers as he struggled to breathe in, deeply, trying to calm himself down the way his therapist taught him to.

He forced himself to believe that she wouldn't lie to him. No, she had never lied to him before. She was the only person he could ever trust fully. She’d never lied to him and he need to remember that. She wouldn’t leave him.

He took a breath in between sobs.

This was their home now. These walls, the pastel pink walls in the bedroom, the cool wooden flooring, the small but cozy kitchen and living room. The clock on the wall, the stove, the couch, the seats, the table. They were shared.

This was their home, where they laughed and watched movies together on the couch, where they came home and unloaded all the groceries into the fridge, where Ajay held him and reaffirmed that she still loved him and that he was still a fighter, no matter how bad he felt, over and over again, until he believed her.

He believed her. He believed everything she said.

Ajay was what made this place feel like home, and he wouldn’t lose her, not this time.

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Thirty

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex, mentions of miscarriage, hanging.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Epilogue

The sky was beautiful, a light blue and a dusky pink in some areas, orange in others.

Ada gazed at the colours, watching the sun slowly set behind the hills far away. All around her, crickets trilled gently and birds whistled softly. It was so still, so peaceful. 

Folding her arms, she rubbed at one of them lightly, looking towards the faint outline of the mountains beyond the hills, Mount Hagen somewhere amongst them.

She hadn’t wanted to die. The moment the bullet had passed through Dutch to her, the numbness had fallen away, crumbled, and she knew she wanted to live. So fiercely she wanted to live, and it was all that had gone round and round in her mind as Arthur had taken her down to Valentine. Coming in and out of consciousness, she’d felt terrifying waves of fear, anger, grief, denial, and, in one moment, she truly thought she had died as finally peace had suddenly washed over her.

A corner of her mouth lifted a little. Morphine would do that.

Somehow, deep in her mind, she’d always known that the final moments on the mountain was what it would come down to; her or Dutch, one way or another. And, once upon a time, she wouldn’t have known what decision he’d have made.

They hadn’t spoken about what had happened since the night before they’d returned home. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t, not yet... though she’d had to with Thom, barely an hour after they’d arrived, in fact.

That had been a week ago, and he and Charlotte had left the next day, the former still cold towards her, the latter reluctant and apologetic.

“He just needs time,” her sister-in-law had murmured to her as they’d embraced, her lovely features full of concern for both of the O’Driscoll siblings.

“I know.”

Ada wasn’t angry at him, though, and she certainly didn’t blame him for being so, either.

Mercifully, they’d managed to prevent Millie from catching on to anything that had happened, despite the heated argument. She just thought her mother had caught a cold and bruised her stomach so “gentle hugs for a little while, angel.”

While she couldn’t help but dwell on her brother and his hissed words to her, full of a venom of a former self, there had been some bright moments since then, and not just from Millie making her laugh every day. John had written, telling them he’d wasted no time in asking Abigail to marry him... and she’d said yes. Ada had cried into her morning cup of tea while Arthur had grinned and grinned, reading the words over and over.

The wedding was due to be in a week’s time, and, as a result of her now strained relationship with her brother, Millie would be going with them, something the little girl was very excited about. Ada and Arthur didn’t think they could ever be separated from her again, anyway. Sadie and Charles would be there, too, naturally, and it was nice, having something to look forward to.

She should feel well enough to ride by herself, then, too, even though they’d take the wagon for Millie’s comfort. Her wound was healing, slowly, but healing. The first few days after they’d returned she’d just slept and eaten and drunk and slept, more exhausted than she had known, the argument with Thom having not exactly helped.

And, through it all, Arthur had been... well, Arthur. She’d never loved him more than she did right now. He’d tended to her, looked after Millie and kept her entertained, looked after the animals and had even started drawing up plans for the new stable. She’d catch the way he’d looked at her sometimes, though; sometimes grateful, other times like he was afraid, like he was reliving the days in Valentine, like he’d been reminded once again of how very much human they were.

They would just be brief moments, though, and then he would smile, fear turning to love. She knew he was waiting for a sign of melancholia, too, but none came. She’d learned to not just wait around for the spells or dwell on the possibility of them, knowing that, though they would come, they would also go, as surely as night turned to day, and life would continue on as it always did.

“Well, if that ain’t the prettiest sight in all the land. Sun ain’t bad either.”

Her lips twitched as Arthur pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his arms sliding around her. She leaned back against his chest with a quiet sigh, her hands settling over his.

“How long did it take you to think of that one?”

“‘bout thirty minutes. I’ve been stood by the window just starin’ at you.”

She laughed, the fingers on one hand lacing with his. “Wow, quicker than last time.”

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ there.”

Ada laughed again, and he smiled, pressing another kiss to the top of her head.

“You okay?” he murmured into her hair, and she nodded, tilting her head to lean it back against his shoulder.

“Yeah.” She traced light, absent-minded patterns on the back of his hand with a finger tip, the sky now turning from dusky pink to fiery red. “There’s gonna be good weather tomorrow.”

“Looks so. I was thinkin’ of goin’ out tomorrow, doin’ some huntin’ while Millie is havin’ her lessons with Martha.” His chin rested on her shoulder as he rocked her slightly. “Thought maybe you’d like to join me, if you feel up to it.”

He had to lift his head a little as she turned hers, smiling softly at him. “I’d love to.”

“All righ’. You can hold my coat while I shoot down that Grizzly that’s been spotted, I think I can get ‘im...”

Ada shook her head as she turned in his arms to face him, her lips twitching. “You’re a very funny man.”

His smile was wide, very much pleased with himself. “I know that by how much you laugh.”

“I should stop encouraging you.”

“Oh, you can try, sweetheart, but I see miserable failure...” he murmured, lowering his head towards hers.

And he was right. She couldn’t stop her smile as he captured her lips in a tender kiss, his fingers splaying across her back. Barely moments later, her arms slid up and draped around his neck, her lips moving slowly against his. He teased her for a few moments, his tongue gliding against her mouth, and just as a soft sound came from the back of her throat, he pulled away, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.

“C’mon, there’s still a God damn load of cake left that I am not lettin’ go to waste.”

“You and your insatiable appetite, Mr Morgan.”

He grinned at her as he took her hand, their fingers lacing together. “Oh, I’m insatiable all righ’, Mrs Morgan.”

And she failed again.

Her laugh was carried across their land by the gentle breeze, lifting it through the trees and into the air as she followed her husband into their home.

And life continued on.

The End

———————————————————————————————————

  I just wanted to take a few moments to thank each and every one of you for reading this story. I spent about a year planning it and writing the first half, then as lockdown here came in March, I thought why the heck don’t I just start posting it? And here we are, thirty chapters later!! I can’t quite believe I’ve done it, this is the first series I ever started writing and my longest to date.

I want to say a special, huge and just brimming with love thank you to those who have commented. You genuinely kept me going at times and I really can’t thank you enough, you all hold such a special place in my heart.

I’m sorry for making you all wait so long for the final two chapters! I wanted to make sure I was happy with them and that they were the best they could be. I’ve loved living in this world and thinking about Ada and Arthur and I really don’t want it to end... and I’m not quite done yet! I have a short story planned for Thom and Charlotte that will involve Ada and Arthur, their wedding and Millie, and so much more, and maybe some other stories in the future, too...

Thank you so, so much, everyone, I hope you’re all doing okay in these trying times, that you have a lovely day and end of the year, and 2021 brings you all that you hope for.

All the best x

Ghosts of Ourselves — 2021

———————————————————————————————————

Comments and reblogs make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in this series!

Questions?

Tagged: @belfry-bat​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​, @sistasarah-sallysaidso​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​, @ntlmundy​​​​​​​​​​, @monster363​​​​​​​, @cowboisadness​

[slashingdisneypasta]

NATM 2 Rogues (Sans Kah) x Teddy Roosevelt (Super Platonically) || Oneshot

Title: I Was Made In A Mannequin Factory In Poughkeepsie

Notes: 

This may become a series. For now though, enjoy the meeting of Teddy! 

Plot: Even though Larry has agreed to travel with the tablet between the three museums, seeing as it wouldn’t be fair to out of the blue bring all these things and people (back) to life and then dump them back into non-existence, it was deemed necessary to move Kahmunhrah’s ‘business partners’ to the Natural History Museum so they’re far away from Kahmunrah’s gate and cant even ponder bringing him back- because that is undesirable outcome, for everyone.

After they arrive at the museum, most of the other exhibits (Sans the good old Easter Island Head and Dexter) keep their distance from them. Everyone’s uncomfortable about this move and change, and that’s understandable but it doesn’t feel good at all… until Teddy steps in.  

Warnings: I guess, exclusion? But don’t worry, Teddy will fix it

~~~

“Its is a… nice museum, I suppose.” Ivan, the first to talk when they leave their crates -Larry had yet to figure out a place to put them or construct exhibits for them,- the first night at their new home, 3 hours after the sun went down. They had been busy wondering around the halls, exploring the new playing field together… thinking. Now they stand together, alone, back with their crates in a hallway.

No one had come to greet them unless you count the Easter Island Head asking for ‘gum gum’- but they had looked at them, for sure. Some scowls, some glares, but most they were wary looks as people walked away. Its not that the three men expected a warm greeting, but they didn’t really expect news about them to spread so fast, either.

Napoleon takes a deep breath, breaking out of his thoughtful trance and glances up at Ivan. It was be impolite to leave him without a response when he’s attempted -however blandly, - to fix the mood… Looking around the place quickly, Napoleon notes the tall ceiling and the railings. “Uh, oui, it has some beautiful architecture, Ivan… “

“I like the colour of the wood.” Ivan adds, continuing the conversation because what else is there to do?? If this aloneness is any indication of how they’ll be living for the rest of their time here, then theirs no point in sitting and being solemn about it. Al, on the other hand makes a face at the Tzar from his place sitting on his crate beside Napoleon. Napoleon nods in agreement, looking around at the floors with risen eyebrows.

“I agree, it’s very, uh, museum-y.”

“Da.”

Theirs a lapse of awkward silence in the conversation, before Napoleon promptly turns to Al. “What do you think of the wood- “

“Oh nah, nah, nah, don’t look at me. I’m not playing this game with you people.” He takes his hands off the crate on either side of him for the first time since he sat down and rubs the lines left there from how tight he was gripping. “We’re all thinkin’ the same thing. You saw what I saw, how they’re lookin’ at us. They know about Kahmunrah and us. We ain’t safe here.”

Ivan’s eyebrows raise up his forehead. “Are not safe??” That’s a little bit of an overreaction, isn’t it? He was thinking maybe they were looking at a long, lonely life with just each other but… peril? What? That was not on the radar!

“Oui, I agree with him. Ivan, haven’t you heard of Caesar?” Napoleon looks forward again, face growing darker. “A great leader… like us… stabbed thirty-seven times in the middle of a crowded room. These rooms feel like that when we’re in them.”

“I’m sure you are overreacting. These are all but peasant, who- “Ivan immediately squints, on realising what he said. He looks for an even amount of time between Al and Napoleon, suspicious. “Wait.”

“If I was gonna kill you, man, I’d do it my Tommy.” Al raises his gun, rolling his eyes at Ivan. “Which doesn’t work, as we all know.” Ivan and Napoleon nod slowly at that, remembering Al’s idiocy that the man himself choose not to mention. He puts the useless gun back down in his lap. “Besides, probably couldn’t get a knife through all those layers on you, anyway.”

Ivan spares another suspicious look at the back of Al’s head. Then they watch some faceless soldiers pass by them in the hallway, ignoring them completely.

“So, what are we going to do about this??” Napoleon asks, a high and impatient tone in his voice and he whips around the face Al. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve already died once and I do not look forward to giving that red, horned beast another chance at me.” When he was alive, Napoleon would have never mentioned the Devil outright like that. He never would have suggested he was going to that place, in the first place.

… but now he knows how he’s remembered. He knows what parts of his life he’s judged on. The blood, the fear, and the death. He doesn’t see why deaths judgement will be any different.

Ivan takes a deep breath in, hearing Napoleons words like a stab through the gut, and looks furiously at him, but stays quiet. He’s right…

“Me neither. Boys, we need a plan.”

Ivan immediately rejects one part of Al’s phrase. “I am not one of your monochromatic minions, Alphonse, refrain from calling me your ‘boy’.”

And Napoleon, another. “For what?! Its not like we can charter a carriage and travel back to Washington in our condition!”

Al takes in a deep, refrained breath of his own this time, and slowly turns threatening around to speak quietly to Napoleon, first. “Mate, no one charters carriages anymore anyway. They’re called cars, now. And of course, I wasn’t suggesting that- don’t assume I’m an idiot!”

“I beg to differ! I think it would be much safer for us all if we all assumed that!”

“I’ll get right back to you, Froggy. And Ivan! I don’t take kindly to being told what not to d- “

“Ah! There you are!”

The new voice startles the 3 out of their budding argument, and the all turn down the hall towards where the Easter Island head is planted- to see an older man with a brown moustache, a jolly smile on his face and his hand on the handle of a sword coming towards them. Ivan raises an eyebrow, confused about who this could possibly be and why he is coming towards them so familiarly, Napoleon whips out his own sword and jumps to his feet, and Al just watches the 26th President of his country speed walk towards him, dumbfounded. None of them are yet used to historical figures they know, being alive also.

As soon as Teddy stops in front of them, he calmly raises his hands in surrender. “No, no. Sorry, sir.  I just hold the handle of my weapon, so it stays still while I walk. I should’ve known better- my apologies.”

Napoleon holds Teddy’s stare for a moment… Ivan and Al watch the tension a little worried and a little amused… and then the general puts his sword back away on his hip. Something about the way this man calls him ‘sir’, acknowledging their military positions and the kind sparkle in his eyes… Napoleon tries to calm down again, as Teddy smiles to them all in turn, under that moustache of his.

“Good evening, men! I apologise that I’m late. I meant to greet you as soon as we awoke for the night, but I’m afraid there was an unfortunate run in between our night guard and a monkey. Just routine stuff, don’t worry! Its settled now.” He offers his gloved hand to Napoleon, the closes to him, first. “Theodore Roosevelt, 26th US President. Don’t be afraid to call me Teddy, though. I’m not president anymore.”

The way he says it makes them all think he’s joking about not being a leader anymore. Like it doesn’t actually bother him, and none of them understand it.

But they move on, anyway. It’s something to discuss later, anyway.

They all shake their hands and introduce themselves, and Teddy nods his head. Once introductions are over, his hands both touch the sides of his thighs in, nearly a ‘A-Ten-HUT!’ kind of stance, spine completely straight. Ivan and Napoleon appreciate the good form. “So, I trust you’re settling in here well? Everyone is being welcoming??”

Al takes his hands, puts them on Ivan and Napoleons arms and prods them out of the way so he can go toe-to-toe with ‘Teddy’. They just give him dirty looks and shuffle to give him room, Ivan rolling his eyes at Al’s temperament. Such a child. “Actually bub, they been givin’ us dirty looks all night. We feel like them slaves, in Rome, ‘bout to be thrown into the auditorium with the lions!”

Napoleon sighs deeply. Coliseum… not, auditorium…

But Teddy doesn’t disregard Al’s statement because of a small mistake, like any superior Napoleon new, would have. His face fills with concern and frustration. “Well, I’m very sorry you feel that way. I told them to… we had a meeting… “Teddy’s face looks positively stormy, for a few moments there, a stark difference from his earlier cheer. Al feels pride well in him, getting such a serious reaction. He thinks, maybe this guy, who’s clearly the leader of this motley bunch, will get some executions going now! That’ll be great! This place is about to get a real glow-up! -

… That is, until Al truly recognises the expression on the older mans face.

Its not murderous. He doesn’t even think he describe it as ‘pissed’.

More like… disappointed. Like a mother about her children.

Al sets himself back onto the heels of his feet as he had popped onto his tippy toes. Good god, what kind of Brady Bunch shit has he walked into?

Finally, Teddy sighs, kisses his lips and comes to a conclusion. “Well, we’ll fix that. Come along, men! We’ll introduce you to the group!” He starts walking off back down the hall the way he came, calling loudly to the Easter Island head that honestly creeps Ivan out a bit, to please call a meeting.

Napoleon, Ivan and Al look at each other for a moment.

… Follow? Or stay behind?

Or, more specifically, go force themselves out of their comfort zone and make acquaintanceships, or cage themselves in to a lonely rest of their time here and possible assassination?

Ivan turns, squares his shoulders and follows the ex-president first, followed by Napoleon with his nose in the air, and finally an uncertain Al. “Fine, but I aint trust none of ‘em.”

[spotsupstuff]

mmm if youre doing others' au characters, one of the iri au vessels of your pick? if not feel free to ignore this muah

-breaks fingies- gon go with shine cuz i feel like i know them best outta everyone of yo kids

Why I like them:

when i say ive laid awake in my bed just thinkin bout their design i mean it. i fuckin LOVE their design so much. theres just so much good about it and they are always a joy to draw. the horn design is super unique and ill be honest, it surprised me plenty when i saw it for the first time. i was skeptical about it for more than one reason but after first attempt at drawin them i fell in love. the cloak is incredibly aesthetically pleasing, design of the legs and tail is a joy to behold, the color palette is Absolutely Great because it just screams “this is ave!! aves design!!! theirs!!!!! its them!!!!!!” because them sunset colors are just your trademark. i am Very impressed with the choice to make the masks yellow tinted, like,,,, id be afraid to go that way if only because of the possible connections to radiance. i also ADORE their personality, they just carry this 17 year old awkward kid who also would tots rock somebody outta the dimension with fashion choices or just One Singular Look cuz the Bitch Just Exists Like That

Why I don’t:

their personality kinda hits close to home at times which makes me go -surprised pikachu face- and, even tho i really do understand, i wish theyd confront some things more head on

Favorite episode (scene if movie):

one of the asks you answered; the one with them n whisper sparring sometimes pops into my head to live rent free for like few hours. i love the picture you did, i love that they are Like That, i adore their fighting style and how fuckin dumb they can be about it sometimes

Favorite season/movie:

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck how do i answer this... i GUESS that brokenverse could count as a season or a movie. so far? ive enjoyed their presence in bverse a lot. from start to this day, they were incredibly interesting to see reacting to things around them. the way they popped into the world was Very pleasing and i am glad that i was there to witness both as a viewer and through broken. i am very fascinated with the relationships that form between them n the other bvs and cant wait what will happen with them and what u r plannin for them in the rps if u r!!

Favorite line:

"I didn't know blankets and pillows had such structural integrity." is a really fuckin good one

"Do you want me to tear my wings?? I've never been in a place like this! I don't know how to move around it!” it was interesting to see them blow up and break, it gave a lot of perspective on their character to me and make them feel... like more? it just unlocked more of perspective about them to me. made me think and consider.

Favorite outfit:

that fuckin... croptop hoodie... i know its not an entire outfit but i have Cried over it i just fucking adore it so much. show that nice belly to the world, dont be ashamed of your scars honey, you are doing SO WELL and u fuckin rock it

OTP:

nobody 😔 im p sure that they dont have romance on mind too much if not at all

Brotp:

i like what ive seen of them n whisper so far a lot 👀 but out of actual sib relationships, i kinda like them n lost interacting together? i know that theres a tension between them right now and theres a lot of reasons that they wont like each other, most likely, in the near future, but there was just... something about the whole scene after shine brought them back to the house. and that they didnt leave when lost reached out. they held them and for some reason that was really comforting to read. i believe that if the two will ever want to get over their problems with each other once, there could be something really beautiful and cozy between them

Head Canon:

i got Two:

1. the crystal protects them from bad dreams, if those are still a thing in your au. i think you already sorta established that it has to do somethin with the grimm troupe and i believe that the troupe is something of a repellent of dreams

2. when they lost their lowest pair of wings, it hindered their flight capabilities a lot. theyve struggled for a While, but figured out how to fly with just four. even after all the troubles, they are an amazing flyer, maybe as close as dragonflies are. they are fast, but need to work on steadiness during it. they know their limits and probably enjoy the rush of wind around them (i may be completely wrong with these tho)

Unpopular opinion:

i aint got one chief, i am of the sorry

A wish:

i want to know more about them, about their opinions on the world. about the crystal they wear, about the actions they think would be right. i want to know their weaknesses and faults, their strengths and successes. shine is incredibly interesting already and i cant wait to know more

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen:

i dont want them to ever die by someones hand. i want them to be as safe as possible. i dont want them to lose the innocence of being a living being without a death count

5 words to best describe them:

popular, special, careful, fancy,,,, afraid (to a degree)

My nickname for them:

štístko (little luck)

[lesyah]

guardian stream of consciousness watchthrough ep. 33

Ahhhh poor chu shuzhi

“I’ll call you brother on his behalf” 😭😭😭😭

Guo changcheng is so precious. I love him endlessly

Omg chu shuzhi’s face

I’m crying in the club rn

WAIT HUH?????

“Return to the underworld and live together” WHAT

omg he hugged him

My heart is full

Thinkin back to the time when chu shuzhi was so mean to lil guo and now this 😭

WAIT HE MEANT RIGHT NOW????

UM DONT YOU THINK THIS IS BAD TIMING TO JUST GO LIVE DOWN THERE?????

ESPECIALLY WHEN ALL THIS MESS IS HAPPPENING

AND CHU SHUZHI STILL HASNT FINISHED HIS SENTENCE??????,

Chu shuzhi: are u sure, it’s very dangerous and there’s no sunlight

Guo changcheng: homie it’s dangerous for me anywhere it doesn’t matter

WHOA WAIT A SECOND

HOW DID HE KNOW THAT THE REGENT KILLED HIS LITTLE BROTHER?????

oh no

“I guessed it” ummmmmm I don’t believe u...?

This is very sus

Great all of those lovely moments were fake weren’t they

Smh

He wants to see the puppet?????? This is sketchy. Who is this and what did they do with guo changcheng

How would he revive him

Chu shuzhi finna wake up back at the stupid pillar and guo changcheng is just ye zun or whatever that dumb guys name is

Whoever is pretending to be guo changcheng is doing a bad job. He’s lucky chu shuzhi is a simp

And apparently DUMB

Because he’s BREAKING the SHIELD

wtf

Omg he knows it’s not guo changcheng because he said the spicier the better lol

Who is this dude 😤😤 lookin like freaking Descartes

I’ll be the first to admit that seeing them as kids leaves me confused bc idk who is who

Uh

The puppet.........

Um........

When the puppet gets bigger.............I feel.........Afraid.

I do not like it.

I hate it actually.

Ohhhhhh I am less confused now

Yikes

Poor chu shuzhi

Someone MUST watch the shows on Viki so they put the ads at the worst possible moment to make you, in a rampage, sign up for stupid viki pass

Omg changcheng

HES NOT DEAD RIGHT?

HE CANT BE

NO WAY DUDE

NO

there is no way guo changcheng is dead right.

I cannot accept that

Wtf

The way zyl just patted him...wtf. Not very comforting dude

Shen Wei I miss u so much

So they don’t even kNOW if guo changcheng is dead for sure and they’re letting chu shuzhi think he caused his death????

CANNOT RELATE to that impulse.

The way he just handed da qing his lollipop and da Qing IMMEDIATELY put it into his mouth............ speechless

How do people not wander into the underworld all the time if that door is right in a middle of a park and you can just waltz right in

OMFG GUO CHANGCHENG IS STRAIGHT UP ALIVE I KNEW THEY WOULDNT KILL HIM OFF BUT WHY ON EARTH DID THEY JUST LET CHU SHUZHI BELIEVE THAT???????? THATS SO MESSED UP

Ew it’s the ghost with the cake 🎂

“Why is the blade in your hand?!!!!”

Ghost: 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

The way shen wei and zhao yunlan stared at each other for so long that the ghost just decided to monologue

Zyl really said:

Sorry the ghost died getting shen wei out? Wtf? So zhao yunlan really would have died omfg

Someone get shen wei some water or something wtf his lips are dry af

Ok someone show chu shuzhi lil guo RN!!!!!!!!!!!!

Guo changcheng finna get whiplash from the violent way chu shuzhi picked him up 😭😭😭

Zhao yunlan: I’ll take shen wei back to his house to get better

Shen Wei:

Zhao yunlan:

Zhu Hong: 👁👄👁

Omfg the way zyl is holding onto him. Even shen wei is like wtf let go

“You’re like a pregnant woman” WHAT

Why is he holding onto him like that!!!!! Zhao yunlan you’re so embarrassing!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You really have a lot of nerve treating zhu Hong like that just to turn around and do the same thing 😭😭😭😭😭😭

He wants to sit down cause he missed the sun 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Lmao it’s so awkward

“How are things?”

“Fine”

“Oh really cause it seems that everything I told you not to do, you did 😌”

Shen Wei when he found out zyl went into their dreams:

Ugh. Them.

Omg chu shuzhi

“You can tend to changcheng but don’t touch the sacred items”

“Oh yeah I forgot about those, that’ll definitely help me heal him thanks 😊”

You know what, to be honest, I’m still a lil mad at u Lin jing.

I really don’t get how the sacred items work

Sometimes it’s ok to use them and sometimes it’s not. I never know when it’ll be bad or good

Ugh the DRAMA.

I’m going to go gray from this

Oh yeah by the way WHERE TF ARE WANG ZHENG AND SANG ZAN

[western-writer]

The Most Loyal Traitor: Part 2

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive speech, swearing, violence 

A/N y’all wanted a part two to this so here ya go! Hope it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. Find part one on my blog.

Summary: the Resistance wants you back.

Your eyes scan the paper again and again and again. The words written on it are there, but you can’t bring yourself to believe what it says. 

“C’mon, you don’t really believe this bullshit, do you?” Jacob barks beside you. “They don’t want you back, they’re embarrassed that their transgression came to light. Now they’re tryna make up for it!”

When you don’t respond, Jacob storms over and rips the paper from your hand. “You’re not actually thinkin’ about meetin’ them, are you?”

You snap out of your haze and snap your head up to look at him. “Are you afraid that they’ll steal me away?”

Jacob doesn’t respond as he crumples up the paper and throws it away. “You’re not goin’. Understand?” 

“I wanna know what they have to say, Jake.”

“No,” he shuts you down. “Absolutely not. This could be a trap. They could kill you and use you against me or the others. No way.” 

You take a step back. “I need to hear what they have to say, Jake. What if you came with me?” 

“The note says to come alone.” 

You laugh a bit. “When have I ever followed orders? Just come with me. I doubt Mary May will be alone.”

You walk over to him carefully and place your hands on his face. “Jake, they won’t steal me away, okay? I just wanna hear what lame ass excuse or story they come up with. That’s all.” 

Jacob leans down and kisses you with hunger. You smile a bit and pull back. “You needy, needy, man.”

He chuckles a bit, bending down to pick you up. “Only for you, baby.”

Arriving in Fall's End is a weird feeling for you. You hadn't been back to the town in a long time and you really had no desire to return, even when John offered to let you help him take the town back. You declined the offer and ultimately, they ended up bailing on the plan to take the town again.

"Stay here," you tell Jacob when he parks the car.

"What? Hell, no. You are not goin' inside that bar alone."

"Too bad," you tell him. "If you walk inside with me, who knows what will happen."

Jacob gives you a hard look and you lean over to kiss his cheek. "Can you please just trust me?"

"It's them I don't trust," he grumbles. "What if they decide to cut off more of your fingers?" He grabs the your left and holds it yo to show you, as if you havent seen your severed finger. Your eyes fixate on the still bandaged pinky and gently pull your hand away from him.

"I'll be okay," you reassure him, putting your hand on his shoulder.

Jacob looks away from you. You sigh and step put of the truck. Surprisingly, he does as your requested and stays in the truck. Before you go into the bar, though, you turn to talk to him through the open passenger window.

"Hey," you say, making Jacob look at you. "If any thing happens, and I mean anything, I'll yell, okay? Then you can come save the day." You give him a small smile and he rolls his eyes, but you see the smile he's trying to suppress. Without another word, you enter the bar you used to love so much.

The Spread Eagle used to be your escape. It's where you'd go after a particularly rough day and Mary May would serve you drinks for no charge. She'd let you sleep off your intoxication upstairs and would leave water and painkillers for you to take the next morning. You'd stumble down the stairs and Pastor Jermone would place a comforting hand on your shoulder and the process would begin again.

How you didn't realize it before baffles you.

Now, as you under the bar, all you can think about is the pain and sorrow. You look at the floor next to the door and still see the blood stain you clothing left when Mary May had shoved you down.

"You fucking let them die!" she screamed at you. Your body, still covered in the blood of your friends, hit the ground as she pushed you.

"No, I didn't!" you pleaded. "I tried to warn them! They didn't listen! Mary, please, you've gotta believe me!"

"Part of being a good leader is having control over your group. Obviously, I never should have trusted you."

Those words hurt you deeply. After all the good you've done, you're being criminalized.

"Get out," Mary May said. "Get out and never come back. If you ever set foot in this bar again, I'll kill you myself."

You clambered to your feet clumsily and leave quickly. You stood on the porch, unsure of what to do, so you did the only thing you could think of. You went the home of Nick and Kim Rye. You were sure they would help you, but Nick greeted you with a gun to your head and a threat to blow a hole through your skull. Mary May must have put the word out right after you left, and here was your friend turning his back on you.

You had a suspicion that you were screwed, and the following days only confirmed that. Even people you had know for years decided to side with the Resistance. Even Sharky, who you were sure would take you in, turned you away.

You look up as you close the door behind you. Many eyes land on you and suddenly you feel uncomfortable. Mary May, Pastor Jerome, Nick, Kim, Jess, and Eli stand in front of you.

Mary May makes her way from behind the bar. "I didn't think you'd actually show!" she says loudly. It looks as if she's going to hug you and you put your left hand up, stopping her. "Right, right... Too soon?"

"Are you kidding?" you growl at her. Mary May taked a few steps back and putting her hands up.

You stay close to the exit and cross your arms, sighing. "Why'd you call me here?"

"Ain't it obvious?" Nick says. "It's for an apology."

"And to say we want you back," Kim adds.

"The Resistance is crumbling," Eli tells you, stepping forward. "Ever since you joined..." he hesitates. "them... we've been strugglin' to keep our heads above water."

"Yeah?" you question condescendingly. "And who's fault is that?"

"Look," Eli says in a tone that reminds you of when you'd be reprimanded by one of your parents when you were younger. "I get that you feel an obligation to them now, but we need you."

"Oh, you need me!? And where the hell were you when I needed you!?"

Eli stays silent, unable to come up with am answer.

"I came to you. To all of you." You look around. "None of you would even give me food. I was nearly starving by the time I came to you, Eli. Remember that?"

Eli stays quiet.

"You sent me away. Just like the rest of you. And now you want me to just 'come back' like you guys didn't abandon me? Like you weren't fully prepared to leave me to die?"

The group tenses as you hear the door behind you open. You turn your head slightly.

"I told you to stay in the truck."

"Since when have I ever followed orders?" Jacob responds. "You were takin' too long." He puts an arm around your shoulder and you assume it's some sort of power move. You know Jacob is possessive, he's shown it around his soldiers many times, yet you can help but feel like this is different.

"Jake, c'mon," you shrug his arm off you.

"Get out of my bar," Mary May orders.

"Sure," Jacob says. "As soon as (Y/n)'s ready to leave."

Jess lets out a growl and steps forward, standing too close to you. "That all it takes?" she hisses. "Just some good dick and you'd abandon us? Let us die?" She sticks an accusatory finger in your chest and you grab her wrist with your left hand.

"Last I checked, it was you guys that abandoned me and left me to die," you hiss right back at her. "Did you forget that you assisted your precious deputy in cuttin' my finger off?"

Jess looks down and rips her wrist out of your grip. You glare at her briefly.

"Did you really expect me to come crawling back?" you question them. "Me comin' here wasn't me tellin' you that I wanna come back. Honestly, I don't give a shit what happens anymore. I'm over it. My place is with him," you point to Jacob. "and if any of you try to ruin that," you look right at Mary May. "I'll kill you myself." You eyes scan the crowd one more time. "I'm warnin' you. This will be a battle you won't win. You will join us, or you'll die. C'mon Jake, let's go."

"How are you so sure!?" Pastor Jerome calls after you. You stop mid stride and turn to face him. "Because I'm seeing how the Resistance is crumbling. It's only a matter of time until all of you are gone." With that, you follow Jake back to the truck and you two go home. Once home, he's all over you, seemingly relieved that they failed to convince to rejoin them, even know you barely left them a chance to convince you.

In the end, you were right. Eden's Gate continued to gain more and more followers and soon, you saw some familiar faces at the sermons. The ones that realized they would lose ultimately joined Eden's Gate and those that refused met an untimely death.

Nick and Kim were the first to join out of all of your previous friends, joining not long after Rook gave up on the Resistance and joined as well. After John stole Nick's plane back and tore it apart, they knew this was the only way. They had not only themselves to look after, but also their unborn daughter. Over time, you gradually became close to them again and you became one of Carmina's godmothers.

Next to join was Hurk and Sharky. With their last chance having switched sides, they knew this would be a losing battle and hey, maybe they'd be able to regain your friendship. Like with Nick and Kim, you were able to rebuild the relationship with them as well.

Jess joined only because she realized she was no longer a help to the Resistance. They were losing at pace faster than she could fight. The two of you, once close, haven't quite reached that level of friendship again.

And, unfortunately, not everyone was willing to comply with Eden's Gate and were killed. Mary May and Pastor Jerome were killed when Eden's Gate reconquered Fall's End and Jacob eventually wiped out those still apart of the Whitetail Militia. This ended the lives of Eli, Tammy, Wheaty, and more. Adelaide died trying to protect her marina. Without the help of the Deputy, she never stood a chance.

Tracey tried to resist, but Faith managed to convince her join them and the sheriff soon followed. Vergil didn't survive and neither did Burke.

Staci Pratt was quick to officially join, especially after realizing that there was no winning this war. And as much as Hudson hated it, she joined too, if only to be there for her coworkers.

You and Jacob's relationship is stronger than ever and his siblings accept you as their own.

The Project at Eden's Gate has taken over the entire county and the Resistance has been completely eradicated.

You wish more people joined, but ultimately, the choice was theirs and you are completely content with you life now. For the first time, you feel as if you have a real family.

Taglist: 

@they-are-not-just-stories

[babbushka]

Blue Moon (4/?)

New York, 1987. The air was filled with smog and the streets were ridden with crime. Just another day in paradise. Your quiet life turns upside down when a striking man moves in across from you. You’re falling, fast, into a love that could never, ever, happen…or could it?

Pale x Reader (Can also be interpreted as modern!kylo for those who don’t know Burn This!)

Word Count: 9200 

Warnings: Angst, drug use, mentions of death, N*FW (language, explicit s*xual content)

You must have been dreaming.

Blinking awake far too early, much earlier than normal, you could feel a pair of strong arms around you, a nose in your hair. Beneath you was hard muscle, not the mattress. You were hot, sweating, and confused – you never woke up sweating.

“Pale?” You whispered in the pre-dawn moonlight, because that’s who it was, that’s who it had to be. Except he never stayed, you always woke up alone.

You must be dreaming.

He was snoring, not loud, but loud enough that you could hear it. He grumbled softly, lips barely moving. It made you smile, even asleep he seemingly had something to say. You wondered if he was dreaming too.

The longer you were awake, the more you believed this was real. His naked body against yours, comfort and warmth – too warm, but you weren’t going to break the spell just yet.

“(Y/N).” He grumbled, and your chest hitched, eyes flitting up to his.

Still asleep. Asleep and dreaming of you.

That was the first time he had ever said your name, or at least that you’d heard.

You smiled, rested your head down on his chest again. The chain around his neck glinted in the moonlight, you pressed a kiss to his pec, the closest thing you could reach.

You felt the rise and fall of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart. You wondered if he would be angry that he stayed over, you wondered if anyone else would be angry. You could feel the cold metal of his ring against your lower back where his hand rest against your skin.

You pushed the thought out of your mind.

Your body woke up with you, and the longer you laid there watching him, the more you realized you really had to use the bathroom.

You slowly tried shuffling away from Pale, but the moment you moved, his muscles flexed and his arms tightened around you.

Pale squished you tight against him, and you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. Your bladder didn’t think it was very funny though. You wiggled again, struggling to get out of his hold, but there was absolutely no use.

“Go the fuck back to sleep.” Pale mumbled, eyebrows pinching in as he frowned, unwilling to wake up even though the sun was starting to creep over the skyline and spill into the apartment.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You tried explaining in a whisper, and he groaned.

He rolled you both over so that you were pressed under the weight of his whole body – and he was a large man, you were so painfully reminded – and kissed at your neck.

“Pale please, we can come right back to bed.” You insisted, lightly pushing at his firm chest.

“Fuck, fine, but I’m going with you.” He groaned, releasing you and pulling you up off the bed.

“Whatever you want, we’ll come right back.” You said, hurrying ahead of him to get to the bathroom.

He followed you as promised, watched you like the creep he was. You were about to tell him you’d be done in a minute, when he just walked over to your sink and pissed right in it. You were glad you kept your toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” You asked, an incredulous smile on your face.

“Hey, I wash my hands.” Pale said, proving his point when he finished too, scrubbing his hands down with your bar soap.

“Thank god for that.” You said, walking over to the sink and bumping him out of the way with your hip, so you could wash your hands too. He rubbed his wet and cold hands up and down your sides, wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you against him as you washed your own hands. “Pale!” You yelped.

He smirked, waited for you to be finished at the sink, then walked the two of you back to bed where he flopped you both down onto the mattress.

He kissed you, breath sour from the morning, and you kissed him back. They were lazy kisses, the sun now officially in the sky, probably only seven o’clock.

You ran some fingers through his hair, hummed against his lips. He held onto you like he’d never see you again if he let go, kissed you back real serious like.

A small voice in your head was telling you that you could really get used to this, waking up like this. The more rational part of you told it to shut up, that it was probably never going to happen again.

“I can practically fuckin’ hear you thinkin’,” Pale murmured against your lips, “Am I not doin’ my job keeping you occupied?” He asked, and you smiled.

“Just hungry.” You said, not wanting to open that can of worms. Your stomach rumbled to prove your point, you silently thanked it for its cooperation. “Wanna make me breakfast?”

“Now you’re fuckin getting the idea.” He quirked an eyebrow with a smug smile. “Give me a couple minutes to wake up, huh?”

You nodded, and he buried his face in your chest, kissing lightly at your tits. You continued to comb your fingers through his hair.

“Got any hot plans for the day?” You asked later, wearing only a soft pair of underwear, not one of the scratchy lacy ones you’d been bringing out of retirement from the back of your closet.

He didn’t seem to mind, still happy to pinch at your ass with a smirk.

“Nah, I gotta go in tonight but not until seven.” Pale said, moving around some eggs in the pan, standing in front of the stove in his boxers and socks.

The chain looked good around his neck, you thought, watching it sway whenever he leaned down to kiss you. You let a hand drift to your own, idly twisting it in between a couple fingers.

“Do you want to do anything?” You asked. You had the day off, and you think it might be nice to get out and about, even if it’s just to the local park or the mall. Malls were the new big thing, apparently. People got all dressed up to just walk around, you thought that was funny.

“Make you come?” Pale quirked an eyebrow at you with a bit of a smile, making you roll your eyes.

“Okay.” You nodded, “Nothin’ else?”

“What the fuck do you want me to say, let’s go catch a movie?” He teased, like you two were teenagers who didn’t know how to spend an afternoon.

“We could see fatal attraction.” You said back, and the look he gave you really did make you laugh then.

“You really are a smart-ass, huh?” He put the spatula down, crowded against you up on the counter.

“Afraid I’m gonna go berserk on you and the missus?” You looped your arms around his neck as he kissed you, bit at your bottom lip.

“Remind me to never fuck you in an elevator.” He smiled against your lips, and you smiled back.

“You’ll have to fuck me in the stairwell instead then.” You replied, and he smiled again. You liked seeing him smile, he didn’t do it often enough. Took nearly two months to get him to smile this much.

“Eat your breakfast, hm?” He said, returning to the stove and taking out the omelet just in time.

He put it on a plate and handed it to you, after you hopped off the counter. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and used the last of your milk.

“I’ll get you another carton.” He said, but you shrugged, waved your hand.

“Don’t worry about it, I get them for free from the bodega around the corner.” You smiled, and he almost choked on his cereal, putting the bowl down to inspect the empty carton.  

“What the fuck is in this milk that makes it free?” He asked, clearly offended.

“Nothing!” You laughed, “I just used to babysit the owner’s kid, they don’t charge me whenever I go in.”

“That’s nice of them but I’m still gonna get you another fucking carton.” He said, sniffing the milk in his bowl despite you telling him it’s fine. “When’s the last time you went to the fuckin’ grocery store?”

“It’s been a while, but I don’t need much. I eat breakfast here, I eat lunch at work, and I bring home dinner.” You said, eating your omelet. You hummed with satisfaction, it really was good.  

“If you call a bowl of soup ‘dinner’ we got some serious fuckin’ problems.” Pale sat down across the table from you.

He was too big really, for your table, his socked feet brushing up against yours, his knees hitting the underside of the tabletop. You wondered if it might be more comfortable on the couch, but didn’t want to get up just yet.

“Fish makes great soup.” You defended your boss.

“I’m sure he does but would it kill ya to have some fuckin’ variety?” Pale asked, crunching away. His accent was stronger in the morning, you thought, as if that could be possible.

“What, are you going to come and cook me dinner every night?” You asked with a small smile.

“No but I can make sure you’ve at least got shit to make yourself.” He pointed out.

“If you insist.” You sighed playfully, as if he were the most difficult man on the planet. Sometimes you thought he was.

“I do.” He said, insistent, making you smile.

“Okay.” You said simply, finishing your breakfast.

“You done?” Pale asked, watching you chew and swallow the last few bites.

“Yeah.” You nodded, wanting to brush your teeth.

“Good, I want to fuck you.” Pale said, unceremoniously putting down his empty bowl and picking you up.

“You did say you were gonna make me come.” You said, laughing and squealing as he kissed and sucked at your skin on the way to your bedroom.

Looks like teeth-brushing was going to have to wait.

He fucked you good – he always did. You wondered if he could read minds or something, or if he really was just that talented. If you were still sleepy before, he fucked it right out of you, adrenaline burning in your muscles from feeling so good.

Pale was setting up your bath, filling the tub and putting down clean towels so when it inevitably leaked it wouldn’t get all over the place.

You took the opportunity to make a phone call.

“Hey Richie?” You asked when the line picked up, normally you wouldn’t mind chatting, but it was a bit of a surprise, and you didn’t want Pale to know so you had to keep it quick. “It’s (Y/N), you got that key made like I asked?”

“Yeah, you want to come pick it up or want me to drop it off?” Richie’s voice crackled over the phone, and you smiled.

“I’ll come and get it! You open today?” You asked, unsure of the hours.  

“You bet doll.” He said.

“Perfect, I’ll come by and pick it up later – oh could you do me a favor?”

You told him what you wanted, and he said it’d be no problem, and you hung up, happily walking into the bathroom.

“You know this fucking tub is getting on my nerves. Let me buy you a new one.” Pale said for what felt like the thousandth time.

“No, I like my tub. It’s staying.” You said with an easy smile, taking his hand and stepping into the hot water.

“Yeah we’ll fucking see about that.” He mumbled, climbing in too. He went to the opposite end and faced you, the two of you stretching your legs out to rest near the other’s head.

You’d both gotten good at measuring how high to let the water go so it didn’t slosh all over the damn place like that first time.

“You know when I signed the lease to this apartment it didn’t have anything at all?” You asked as he got comfortable. “Only the stuff in the kitchen, and the toilet.”

“No fuckin way.” Pale frowned, but you nodded.

“I had to buy everything myself, and the first thing I bought was this tub. We didn’t have a tub at home, only showers, and I always thought that it was so luxurious to have a long soak. I bought this tub before I even bought that bed.” You laughed, remembering the (in hindsight) dumb decision.

“Alright, the tub stays.” Pale said, kissing your ankle. He hummed thoughtfully for a minute, “The first thing I bought was my car. Spent too much fuckin’ money on it, and I’m too fuckin’ attached to it to sell it.”

“Good thing you don’t got a girl pressuring you to get rid of then, hm?” You clicked your tongue and he got all defensive, making you smile.

“I ain’t pressuring you, and I just said the fuckin’ thing can stay!” He said, grabbing your ankle playfully and giving it a little shake.

“I know, I’m just teasin’.” You sank into the bubbles up to your chin, making him shake his head fondly.

“I know.” He huffed.

“I know you know I know.” You said, and he huffed again.

“You make me dizzy.” He said, like that was your fault.

You innocently pointed a finger at yourself, raised an eyebrow. He pointed back at you with a nod.

“Good, so do you.” You said, sitting up, turning yourself around and resting against his back. His arms immediately wound around you under the water. Not overly sexual or nothing, just comforting.

“I do?” He asked, genuinely surprised. He always seemed surprised when you said something nice about him, it hurt your heart a little bit.

“You bet, but in a good way.” You nodded.

“Didn’t know there was a good kind of dizzy.” Pale said softly, his nose in your hair, breathing it in.

“Well there is.” You said, and that was that.

“Light me up a smoke?” Pale asked, and you nodded, reaching over onto the counter and grabbing the pack he had stashed there. He had sprinkled shit all around your apartment, but you didn’t mind. It was nice, having a reminder of him when he wasn’t there.

You pulled a cigarette out of the pack, turned around as best you could in the tub and gently placed it between his lips, and struck a match with your wet hands, lighting it.

He took a deep drag, and you settled back down against his chest, dropping the match into the bathwater, watching it sizzle.

“I gotta go back to my fucking apartment.” He said on an exhale after a minute or two. You knew that was coming, but it still hurt a little to hear him have to say it.

“Are you going to be in trouble?” You asked, not accusatory or angry, just worried for him. If he got in trouble, he might not want to come around anymore, and then where would you be?

“Nah, she’s down in Miami.” He said, making you frown. He really did live alone across the street?

“How come?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

You were still resting with your head against his chest, so you couldn’t see his face, but the hand with his cigarette was expressive enough.

“She don’t want to fuckin’ be with me no more.” He said, sounding too resigned.

That wasn’t what you had thought at all – you didn’t know what to say.

“Her loss.” You settled on, because it was true. Pale seemed to think so too.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said. I tell you one thing, what a waste of fucking time that was – still is, woman won’t give me a fuckin’ divorce, you believe that? Doesn’t want to see me, doesn’t want to hear from me, but won’t divorce me. Go fuckin’ figure. I give that woman sixteen years of not doin’ nothing she don’t want to do, I give her two beautiful fuckin’ kids who never fuckin’ call, and she splits to live with her parents and suddenly I’m the bad fuckin’ guy here? Never fuckin’ did nothin’ to her that she didn’t want, gave her whatever the fuck she wanted even when I didn’t want to. Never raised a hand to her, I ain’t that kind of guy, you know that, never did nothin’ to her except what she wanted.”

“That’s not fair to you.” You said, kissing the arm that held you around your neck, wanting to comfort him.

“She don’t give a shit about fair, no one gives a shit about fair when you’re eight-fuckin-teen. We had six days of fun, that was about it. We been split for two years now, I only see her for fuckin’ Christmas, and it’s really to see my kids. She thinks I’m dangerous, don’t want them comin’ up to see me, I gotta be the fuckin’ one to fucking fly down to Florida where it’s eighty degrees in December. What kinda fucking Christmas is that?”

“Christmas is coming up real soon.” You remembered. Like, around the corner kind of soon.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to go down soon.” Pale sounded aggravated, you were about to switch the subject when he pinched at your cheek, “Let’s go into the city today.”

“Manhattan?” You asked, it’d been ages since you’d spent the day in Manhattan.

“Yeah, you ever see the tree over in Rockefeller?” He asked, sucking down his cigarette, the smoke filling the air.

“No.” You said.

“It’s huge, this year it’s seventy-eight fuckin’ feet, can you believe that? I didn’t even fuckin’ know trees got that tall, but they brought it over from who the fuck knows where and stuck it right in the middle of the city, there’s something crazy like eighteen-thousand fuckin’ lights.” He recited, and you smiled.

“Where’d you get all these facts?” You craned your neck around to look at him, saw him already looking back at you. Always looking, watching.

“A man likes to listen to the radio when he’s driving around.” He shrugged.

“I’d like to go see the tree.” You decided, “Do you think it’ll snow today?”

“I hope not, I don’t want to fucking freeze my dick off.” He sniffed, stubbing out what little he had left of his cigarette onto the side of the tub, reached up and put it in the small ashtray he kept near your sink.  

“Hey, look at me for a sec?” Pale asked, and you turned around just in time for him to catch your chin with his big hand, tilting your head up to meet his lips as he kissed you.

You grinned, kissing him back until the water ran cold.

When it did finally go cold an hour later, he helped you get out of the tub, offered you a clean towel and dried himself off.

“I folded your clothes, they’re on the couch.” You said with a smile, wrapping the towel around your body.

Pale nodded, wiped the water away from his huge body as he walked into the living room. You leaned against the doorframe in your towel, watched him pull on his clothes.

“I gotta go to my fucking apartment, gotta take care of a couple fuckin’ things. Gimme like, two hours and then we’ll go?” Pale asked.

“Okay, I’ll be here; I just need to run an errand but I’ll be right back.” You smiled.

He walked back over to you, gripped your upper-arms in his big hands and kissed you, and then he was out the door.

There was always something so strange about when he was gone, his entire presence seemed to fill up the room. He commanded all your attention and all your space, and whenever he left, you couldn’t help but feel the difference.

It didn’t matter much, you were going to be with him again soon anyway.

You dried yourself the rest of the way off and got dressed, making sure to layer up in case it did snow.

You figured now was the perfect opportunity to go down the street and visit Richie’s shop, pick up that key.

You gave a cheeky wave in the direction of Pale’s apartment, no idea if he was watching you or not. He probably wasn’t, too busy getting high or whatever it was that he was doing, but you thought it’d be funny to do so anyway.

Richie’s locksmith shop was barely a five minute walk, and the wind bit at your face with each step. Your coat didn’t help a ton against the cold, but it was better than nothing at least.

You waved and smiled to the other people braving the weather, and sighed when the warmth of the shop hit your face.

“Is that my favorite waitress?” Richie’s deep gravely voice asked happily from somewhere beyond your line of sight.

“How’d you know it was me?” You asked with a chuckle.

Richie emerged, a short Italian fella who swore by your coffee. You leaned down to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek.

“I can smell your perfume from a mile away, you put it on so fuckin strong.” He said with a big grin, his gold tooth shining at you.

“How’s business?” You asked, leaning up against the class counter.

“Good! Lots of folks wantin’ new locks, you can never be too careful or too safe, the crime in this fuckin’ city’s through the roof.” Richie said with a click of his tongue.

“Don’t I know it, I got a lock that don’t do nothin’.” You nodded.

“Whattaya mean?” He frowned.

“I mean I got a man who breaks in three times a week, just shakes it a lil’ and pops it right open.” You laughed, making Rich sigh in exasperation.

“That ain’t safe (Y/N), why didn’t you say so? I’d replace the whole doorknob for you, friends and family discount.” He said with a wink.

“Maybe after my next paycheck. The key I asked for is supposed to make it easier for this guy to not go breakin’ the whole thing altogether.” You smiled, thinking fondly of Pale. You found yourself doing that a lot, thinking fondly of him.

“This Pale, he a strong guy?” Richie asked, sliding the key across the counter for you to pick up. It was shiny and silver and brand new, you almost wanted to keep it for yourself.

“Real strong, no doubt in my mind he could break the whole fuckin’ door down if he wanted to. He never would of course, he’s real protective.” You smiled, but Richie didn’t seem too convinced.

“Okay, but you tell me as soon as you want that lock fixed. I won’t even have to make you a new set of keys.” He said.

“Thanks Richie. Hey, how’s Anita and the kids, they doin’ alright?” You asked, pocketing the key and pulling out your wallet.

“Yeah, they’re good. Look at that, won first fuckin’ place in the science fair!” Richie lit up at the mention of his kids, pulled out a picture from near the register of his daughter holding a big blue ribbon.

“No kidding! Good for her.” You congratulated him, handing him a couple bucks.

“Thanks (Y/N).” He smiled. Just then, the door opened, bringing the chill of outside into the small shop. “I’ll be with ya in just a sec!” He said to the elderly woman who had come in.

“I gotta get back, don’t let me hold you up.” You said, leaning back over the counter to give him a good-bye kiss on the cheek. “Thanks again Rich, I’ll call you about that lock!”

You stuck your hand in your pockets as you walked back home, the key nestled in your palm.

“Okay so I checked the fuckin’ schedule and we gotta go now to make sure we – ” Pale said, letting himself in and announcing himself in the middle of a conversation, as always.

Still dressed and ready to go, you eagerly met him in the living room. His arms went around you instantly, the leather of his jacket cold against you. He kissed you, slid his tongue against yours – you were glad you didn’t put on any lipstick.

He pulled away, and then changed his mind and kissed you again, making you smile against his lips as your hands curled around his lapels.

“I got something for you.” You said, kissing him still.

“How’s that?” He asked, brow furrowing.

“I know I know, it’s not romantic. I just don’t want you breakin’ down my fucking door all the time.” You explained, pulling out the small silver key from your pocket.

You handed it to Pale, who had gone real quiet. You hoped it wasn’t a bad idea, but he hadn’t thrown it away or nothin’ yet, so you figured you did good.

“Why’s it got my name on it?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, “You think I can’t remember my own fuckin’ name?”

You smiled, turning the key over in his hands – god they were big, and so warm despite it being freezing outside – showing that the other side had your name stamped into it too.

P A L E on one side, and your name spelled out on the other.

“It’s personalized.” You explained, before grinning up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “It’ll help you tell it apart from all your other whores’ keys.”

“You think I got room in my head seein’ other women?” Pale scoffed, and you shrugged, purposefully being difficult.

“I don’t know anything about you, remember?” You teased, still smiling to show him you weren’t being serious.

Pale walked you backwards to the couch, keeping his hands on you. Even though you were only joking, you had accidentally aggravated him. You could tell because he had that little dimple in between where his eyebrows were pinched, nose scrunched up just a little.

Thankfully, he wasn’t aggravated enough to be mean or nothin’, but he did nudge you to lay down on the couch while he started undoing all your clothes, tugging them off of you enough to expose your chest and stomach.

“You’re too much of a fuckin’ handful – when do I got the fuckin’ time to fuck other girls, huh? I go to work, I go to you, I go to sleep. I’m too fuckin’ busy fuckin’ you right and making sure this sweet pussy of mine stays satisfied, you got that? ‘Other whores’ – why the fuck would I need any other girls when I got the best fuckin pair of tits in my hands right now, huh?”

Pale cupped his hands around your chest, pushed your tits together and sucked a dark red mark on them. His ramblings sent a thrill through you, you had hoped – but you didn’t dare let yourself hope about anything these days.  

“You really ain’t seein’ anyone else?” You asked, a hand in his hair, the other trying to get purchase on his shoulder, still clad in that leather jacket of his.

“No I ain’t fuckin’ seeing anyone, unless you mean the fuckin’ seafood dealer down at the fuckin’ docks carryin’ in fuckin’ lobster from Maine – or the fuckin’ cattle farmers at the fuckin’ auction houses bringing in the best fuckin’ prime rib this side of the river. Those are the only other fuckin’ people I see, sweetheart.” Pale said, voice muffled as he shoved his face into your cleavage.

“Good.” You couldn’t help but say, feeling victorious.

“’Good’, she says. Christ sweetheart you’re somethin’, you know that?” He lifted his head from sucking and biting at your skin, “I changed my mind, I don’t want to go into the city, I’m gonna fuck you into next week, come on.”

Pale got off of you, pulling you up with him. You watched him carefully put the key in his jacket pocket, before shrugging out of it and draping it across the couch. You smiled, hoped that meant he liked it.

In the bedroom – which you were stupidly, foolishly starting to consider your shared bedroom – it was bright; not sunny exactly, but bright, the light still finding a way to come through the clouds.

He looked at you real hard, didn’t do nothin’ but look at you for a hot minute, once he got you naked. You looked right back at him, just as naked too. You liked that he liked to be nude around you, he had quite the build – it made you wet, just the sight of him.

He liked that, liked the way his fingers slid into you without any trouble, you opened your legs and relaxed your hips and dropped your mouth when he fucked you on his hand, three huge fingers rubbing at your cunt, making you whine.

His cock was hard, it made you clench at how hard he was, how all that was gonna fit inside you somehow. You wanted it, needed it desperately, his fingers were good but you needed his cock all the way up in your stomach to shut up those butterflies and make you moan.

“Please,” you said, and that was all you had to say before he yanked you down the bed, lifted a leg and curled it around his waist.

“That’s right, say it.” He smirked, sticking in just the tip, driving you crazy – you knew how it felt to be so fucked by him, your whole body was arching for it.

“I’m your slut and I want your cock, please, please let me have it.” You begged, licking your lips.

He groaned and pushed into you, lifted your hip with one hand and held it in place, the perfect fucking place for him to fuck you hard and deep.

“Fuck.” He breathed, snapping his hips against yours.

He was so strong, how the hell did he have so much muscle, you could watch it ripple – his biceps bulging, his abs clenching, strong hips pistoning into you, making you cry out, and huge fucking thighs supporting him on the mattress.

It was good, so good, just on the edge of painful, but not quite. You couldn’t get your mouth to close, jaw dropped from the pleasure of it. He spit into it, licked at your teeth, bit your tongue. You smiled around it the best you could, the force of his thrusts shoving you up and down and up and down on the mattress.

“You got the best fuckin’ cunt I ever had, you know that?” Pale sneered at you, like he was mad at you for that.

“Feels good?” You asked, wanting to be good, good for him.

“Yeah, fuck – ” He panted into your mouth, pushing your hips back down onto the mattress and rearranging your legs so he could get deeper deeper deeper, you felt like he was in your throat.

And then he was pressing down on your throat, and you were gasping for him, stars creeping into the corner of your eyes. It felt too good, you couldn’t focus on anything other than getting fucked, you didn’t even want to breathe, only wanted to kiss him, take his cock.

His hair fell in your face, tickled your cheek as he sucked at your skin, god you were gonna look like a fuckin’ leper when he was done, if you didn’t look like one already.

He was so hot, always so fucking hot, sweating and making you sweat. What was it he had said, one-ten? A man shouldn’t be that hot.

He pressed his big hot hands and his big thumbs into the big bruises he had already left on your skin – the ones on your thighs, on your hips, on your tits. His hands were huge, they were all over you as he fucked you, made you feel him everywhere.

“Please,” you said, not knowing what you even wanted, just wanting him, more of him, all of him, whatever he’d give you, “Please, Pale.”

“I got you, I got you.” He grunted, letting go of your throat slowly, slow enough to make you dizzy all over again, make you smile.

He let his hand fall down to your clit, pushed that big thumb of his right against it, swirled little circles around it, until you were jerking, throwing you head back as far as it could go into the covers, clenching hard around him as you came.

“Thank me.” Pale ordered, grabbing at your face, still thrusting into you. Hot hot hot.

Your body relaxed, going warm and soft as it thrummed with your orgasm, your mind reeling from it but your hips loosening up for him, letting him fuck into you deeper and without any kind of resistance.

“Thank you,” You moaned too far gone, “Thank you thank you.” You said over and over again, your hands looped under his arms, feeling the strong muscles of his back as they moved and flexed, Pale chasing his own orgasm.

“Fuck, (Y/N).” He groaned, hips stilling, pressed flush against yours.

You swore you could feel his come in you, swore you could feel the heat of it.

Pale let his arms give out, falling right on top of you. He was too tall, his chest landed on your face, suffocating you just a little. You didn’t care too much, but guessed it was too uncomfortable for him to have your nose jabbing his sternum, so he rolled you over, staying inside you the whole time.

You laid fully on top of him, rising and falling with the expansion of his ribcage as he took in deep breaths.

You almost never wanted him to pull out, you felt like you could fall asleep like that.

You looked out the window.

“It’s snowing.” You said, your face sticking to the sweat on his skin.

“How’s that honey?” Pale licked his lips, wrapped a big hand around the ends of your hair. Didn’t pull or tug or nothing, just held it in his hand, cradled the back of your head.

“Look.” You said, lifting a pleasure-weak hand to point at the window, where soft flurries were starting to frost the glass.

“I guess it is.” Pale said, looking back down at you, giving you a smile.

Pale had stayed with you until he had to go to work that evening. He even came back when he got off the next morning.

There was something thrilling about hearing the key click the lock open, made you smile.

It was only for a little bit, you were heading out to work anyway. He was too tired to fuck you, but that was okay, you didn’t want to show up to work smelling like sex.

He said he’d see you soon, and you had smiled and kissed him, and he had walked you downstairs. He looked sad, but you chalked it up to him being tired.

Now you were at work, wiping down the counter and thinking of him, listening to the jukebox.

The snow stayed light, thankfully, and it was warm and cozy inside the diner. A couple of the regulars were there, sipping their coffee well into the afternoon. You were in no hurry to kick them out.

You had just finished the big breakfast rush, and were joking around with Fishel.

“I ain’t never seen you so happy (Y/N).” Your elderly boss said, chatting with you through the order pick-up window. “Whoever he is, I’m glad he’s treatin’ you right.”

“Thanks Fish.” You said, not being able to stop your cheeks from blushing at you made sure the counter was spotless. “I think we got a good thing goin’, it’s hard not getting all wrapped up in it.” You admitted. You didn’t really talk to anyone about Pale.

“You spendin’ the holidays with him?” He asked, and your chest tugged a little.

“I don’t think so. It’s too soon, he’s already got plans with his family.” You said, trying not to sound suspicious or nothin’.

“That’s too bad.” Fishel frowned, but you shook your head, not wanting the conversation to go down that path.

Fish came around the corner and walked around the milkshake bar, sitting on one of the stools. Fish spent most of his time on his feet, you knew that couldn’t be good for a guy like him – you were always telling him to sit down, it was good he head started to listen.

“Nah it’s okay, I’ve only been seein’ him for a couple months.” You said, and there was that smile again. “You want a malt? Or an egg cream?” You asked, knowing Fish definitely deserved a sweet treat. He had worked hard all through the breakfast rush, not a single order came out wrong.

“Malt.” Fishel decided, scratching at his chin. “He that big scary lookin’ fella I see walkin’ you home sometimes?” He asked, making you laugh as you worked on his drink.

“Yeah, that’s him.” You turned on the blender, wincing at the noise of it until you could turn it back off. “He ain’t scary, honest.”

You were starting to move your stuff to the small prep sink on your side of the bar when the phone rang.

“I’ll go get it – ” You said, starting towards the phone, but Fish interrupted you before you got too far.

“Nah, let it ring. It’s my brother, I don’t want to talk to him right now.” He grumbled, making you smile.

Fish came from a family of nine, all boys. You never knew which brother he was talking to, or about.

“Aw don’t be like that Fish, go talk to your brother.” You said, but the phone stopped, making your boss give you a big smug smile.

“Too late.” He said, having a little laugh, before taking a big drink of the malt. “I’ll give ‘im a call later. Was a fuckin’ mistake givin’ him the diner’s number.” He shook his head.

“Whatever you say, Fish.” You replied with a fond smile.

You found yourself sneaking glances to the booth tucked behind the plant, Pale’s booth. It was empty today, and you wondered if he’d be stopping by. He didn’t always, so it was nothing to count on, but it always brightened your mood when he did show up. 

It was dark in your apartment when you came back home after your shift. You were glad because you didn’t even have to work a double, so you got home right at two o’clock.

Something in you thought Pale would be there, now that he had a proper key and knew he was invited whenever he wanted. You figured he was just busy, maybe he got stuck working hard. You admired that about him, he really did love his work, no matter how much he complained about it.

You took the opportunity to wash your sheets, filing your nails in the laundry room in the basement of the apartment building while it spun around and around. You brought a book down there too, so you wouldn’t be too bored. You’d once left your laundry in the dryer too long, and some schmuck came and dumped it out all over the filthy floor – you learned to keep a close eye on it ever since.

When the laundry was washed and dried and Pale still wasn’t talking circles in your apartment, you reheated some soup from the diner on the stove, sipped it sitting on the couch while the TV flickered.

After a while, you accepted that he wasn’t coming, and went to bed, your eye on his window.

He wasn’t there, no lights were on. He worked too hard, you thought.

You fell asleep, your head on the pillow for the first time in a long time. You tried not to think about it.

 Pale wasn’t around the next day, or the day after that even. You worked doubles, keeping your mind off of things. This wasn’t the first time he had disappeared on you, but it was the first time since, well…

Your hands idly came up to the gold chain, the one you hadn’t taken off yet. You had no desire to see it anywhere other than around your neck.

You walked into your apartment, sighed sadly when Pale wasn’t there for the third day in a row.

Putting your stuff down, you walked through the living room, where you saw the little red light on your landline blinking.

Confused, you sat down on the couch and pressed the speaker button, pulling up the voicemail menu on the machine and letting it play. A robotic voice greeted you.

“Hello, “(Y/N)”.” It said. You cringed a little at how awkward your voice sounded saying your own name in comparison to the cold robot voice. “You have six new voicemails.”

“Holy shit.” You frowned, you think you had maybe gotten three voicemails in the past year – panic flooded you, was something wrong? Was everyone okay?

You pressed the button to start playing the voicemails.

“I tried fuckin’ calling you at the diner, nobody picked up. That ain’t good business practice sweetheart.” You heard Pale’s voice, slightly modulated from coming through the machine. You felt bad, it hadn’t been Fish’s brother then the other day.

“I didn’t want to tell you, more like I couldn’t bring myself to – I’m down in Coral Gables. It’s too fuckin’ hot here, I can’t stop sweatin’. Don’t get mad at me, I told you I said I was gonna have to leave soon. I’ll be back, in a couple days. Cross your fucking fingers for me sweetheart, that I make it out of this trip with whatever’s left of my fuckin’ sanity. Every fuckin time I have to go back and visit these people it reminds me of how much I fuckin’ hate them – ”

The message ended. You stared at the phone, didn’t even give yourself time to process that he had gone all the way down south without even as much as a goodbye before you pressed the button to hear the next one.

“I don’t know where the fuckin’ machine cut me off but, anyway I wanted to tell you that’s where I am. My kids got so fuckin’ big, they don’t look anything at all like they did when I saw them last. They got no interest in seeing their old man, fuckin’ fine with me. I’m too busy sweatin’ by the fuckin’ pool, getting chewed out by the in-laws. Why don’t I do this or that, because nobody fuckin wants me to, that’s why. It’s too hot for this – ”

The message ended. You smiled, pressing the button again.

“—So then I tell him you know why don’t you go get fucked? Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to an eighty-fuckin-five year old man, but see if I fuckin’ care. It’s too fuckin’ hot here you know – oh shit – I gotta go.”

That one made you laugh a little. There had been some rustling on his end of the line, was he calling you in secret? That thought made warmth bloom in your chest, made up for the bit of hurt at him disappearing without a word.

“Can’t talk for long this time, just got out of dinner. You’d never fuckin’ believe the seafood here, I guess they gotta get it from the best fuckin’ people because of how close they are to the water – speaking of fuckin’ which, I ain’t never seen such blue water in my whole life. I swear it’s like they got it dyed or something, like they painted the bottom of the fuckin’ ocean. Jersey ain’t this fuckin’ blue I fuckin’ tell you that much – ”

“It’s me again. You better be fuckin’ eating right. And I don’t mean that soup, I put some shit in the fridge for you, cook it up. I’m gonna be pissed if you let it spoil. Don’t work too hard neither. You know I’ve been spending the past three fuckin’ days listening to stories about how hard these fuckin’ people work? Causing fucking heart attacks left and right. You need something important, some big fuckin’ emergency comes up, I left a stack of cash in the drawer with the spoons in it. Everyone’s fucking complaining about something – myself included. The traffic here is – ”

“You know I’m getting real fucking fed up with this fuckin’ machine shutting my calls off. I don’t even fuckin remember where I was. The party? I don’t fucking know. It’s two in the goddamned morning, you’re probably not even fuckin’ home yet. I’ll call you again later.”

“There are no new messages.”

You were reeling.

You wondered how much room you had on the machine for your voicemails. You didn’t want to delete any of them, wanted to save them. You looked at the thing, there was a button for it.  

“Messages saved.”

Your heart was beating wildly. You turned the ringer volume up as high as it would go. His last message must have come through right around two, but it was closer to four in the morning now, you having to work the double. You hoped if he called again, you’d be able to catch him.

You never managed to.

“Three new messages.”

You were curled up in bed, having moved the machine into the bedroom. Lying awake at night, you could almost imagine him sitting next to you, smoking his cigarette. Almost.

“Missed you again. I wish you were here with me, you fuckin’ know that? I fucking hate messages. I hate them. I hate getting them and I hate sending them. Especially fuckin’ hate it when they write down the message and stick it in your pocket, bits of fuckin’ paper all over the damn place. How the fuck am I supposed to know what you’re thinking, how you’re reacting through a fuckin’ voice message. I don’t even know if you’re getting these – I looked your number up before I left, I know this is the right fuckin’ number. I hope you’re listening. I’d tell you to call me back but – ”

“They got flamingos all over the fuckin’ place here, I ain’t never seen a pink bird before, it don’t look natural. Maybe they dye them just like they dye the fuckin’ pools. I found out that some places to paint the bottom of the pool, can you fuckin’ believe that? Now that’s a scam and a fuckin’ half. What kind of false fuckin’ advertising – ”

“ – I’m fuckin’ aching over here too you know? I hate them, all these fuckin people. They don’t give a shit about me or about Robbie or about anyone, they only fuckin’ knew him by proxy, ‘cause of me. They didn’t give a shit – oh fuck, shit – ”

The line went dead, and there were no new messages after it.

You held your breath, that last one sounded like he was losing it, like he was crying. You didn’t think you’d ever heard Pale cry.

You found you were crying too.

You fell asleep, missing Pale, wondering who Robbie was.

“Four new messages.”

“Fuck (Y/N) – I’m – I can’t – ”

“I don’t know who to call, who to talk to. I got nobody over here, ain’t that fuckin’ sad? Fuckin’ Christmas time and I ain’t got nobody. Fuckin’ wife and kids went to the beach, I’m sick of the fuckin’ beach. I’ll be back for New Years, fuckin’ flight got delayed. Fucking snow. I hate snow, I ever tell you that? What the fuck am I even doing here, I shouldn’t have come, fucking idiot.”

The third message was just him crying.

The fourth one was too.

Your heart ached for him, you had no idea what the fuck was going on, but you ached for him, the way he sobbed over the phone. It made harsh static sounds come through the speaker of the voicemail machine.

“One new message.”

“I miss you.”

 You replayed that one over and over.

You saved them all, played them on the nights when you got lonely. It had been a week, Christmas come and gone. You hadn’t celebrated with anyone, just sat by the voicemail and listened.

You listened to him talk about Miami, about his family. Robbie was his brother, you learned. He died, you learned.

It was hard to listen when he was drunk, slurred his words together, you couldn’t make them out. You always could tell when he was drunk, he cried a lot more. You’d never heard someone cry so much.

You missed him.

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

“(Y/N)!” Marty said with a cheerful smile as you walked into the deli on your way home from work. “Haven’t seen you around in a couple of days, what can I get ya, how you been?”

You smiled tiredly, surveying the deli case. It was late, the deli was almost closing, and there wasn’t much left to choose from. It was all still good of course, just not as full as it would be in the morning.

“Busy, working double shifts at the diner.” You explained, having to stifle a yawn. “Can I get a tuna sandwich?”

“It’s the holidays, you should take some time off, be with family.” Marty said, getting to work putting your sandwich together just the way you like it.

“They live all over the place, it ain’t easy getting together, you know?” You shrugged. You’d have to give your folks a call.

You didn’t have much energy for talking.

Marty didn’t seem to pick up on that hint, took his time making your simple sandwich.

“I ain’t seen that guy around, everything okay with him?” Marty asked.

You frowned, didn’t like the way he said it like that. That guy.

“Pale? Yeah he’s just out of town, business shit.” You lied.

“On Christmas?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged.

“Yeah.” You lied again.

“Do you know when he’s comin’ back?” Marty asked, and you got aggravated.

“Why does it matter?” You frowned again. You were getting a headache. You missed Pale.

Marty shrugged, wrapped your sandwich real slow. You almost didn’t even want it anymore, too tired and annoyed to want to eat it.

“I just was wonderin’ if maybe you didn’t have any plans for New Year’s Eve, if maybe you’d like to go out to dinner with me.” He said, not making eye contact.

“Marty, thank you for thinkin’ of me, but I’ve got plans.” You said.

It wasn’t a lie, you told yourself. Pale would be back, and he’d see you, and you’d do something together. It wasn’t a lie.

“Okay then, maybe we go out to dinner some other time, maybe tonight?” Marty tried again.

“I’m flattered, but no, thank you.” You said, not sounding too flattered at all.

“You’re too pretty to be eatin’ alone, come on.” He said, handing you the sandwich.

When you reached for it, he wrapped his hand around yours.

You yanked it out of his grip, recoiling.

“Pale is coming home soon, and he ain’t gonna like you flirting with me.” You warned him.

Marty threw his arms up in exasperation.

“What the hell do you even see in him anyway? I see how he stumbles around the fuckin’ streets some nights, coked up out of his mind. He’s a mess.” He got heated, making you get just as mad.

“Who the fuck isn’t these days?” You snapped, “Everyone stumbles around in the fucking streets every once in a while! People are dying left and fuckin’ right, you don’t know nothin’ about them, you ain’t got the right to judge.” You seethed.

“Okay, calm down – ” Marty said, realizing he had made a big mistake.

“No, fuck you.” You said, not caring about anything. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m waiting on a phone call.”

You didn’t even pay for your sandwich, just left the deli and went up the stairs, fuming.  

 “Four new messages.”

You were sitting on the fire escape. It had been twelve days since Pale left for Miami. He should be coming home tomorrow, if he was gonna make it in time for New Years like he said he would.

You had rummaged through your closet, found his big leather jacket hiding back there.

Something in your chest clenched real tight, thinking about him leaving the jacket for you. You slipped it over your shoulders – it absolutely engulfed your whole body. You could smell his cologne on the leather, could feel the ghost of his warmth.

“I’m getting on a fuckin’ airplane today, fuckin’ finally. Don’t let me come back to this fuckin’ place, this was a bad fuckin’ decision. You ever been on an airplane? I have so many things I want to ask you. I don’t know how people fuck in airplane bathrooms, they’re too fuckin’ tiny. God I can’t wait to fuck you. I ain’t touch another person this whole fuckin’ time I been up here. I got a hug from my son, that’s it, can you fuckin’ believe that? One hug on Christmas. I’m gonna fuckin’ never take my hands off of you – ”

“This fuckin’ voicemail has got to go. You gotta change it. I know you’re not there right now – I fuckin’ know. I ain’t been able to catch you in almost two fuckin’ weeks, I’m going crazy over here, forgetting what the hell you even sound like. You’re not there right now. I know I know I know. You know how some people take Xanax to fly? Maybe I shoulda done that. I’m gonna be home soon, god I hope you’re home.”

“I’m callin’ you from the airport, can you hear it? It’s so fuckin’ loud here, too many fuckin’ people all talkin too many fuckin different languages. I’m in a fuckin’ phone booth, reminds me of the fuckin’ time I went to the zoo over in The Bronx. You know I once saw them moving some animals into the fucking zoo? Real late at night, got the elephants fuckin walkin around the streets. Maybe that was the circus, now that I’m thinkin’ about it. I’m gonna fuck you so hard when I get back – hey who the fuck do you think you’re fuckin’ lookin at, huh?”

“Me again, it’s Pale. You knew that though. I wanted to tell you who it was when I was calling from my bitch of a wife’s house, but they don’t call me that, they woulda known something was up. I ain’t VSOP over there. We landed –  god it’s fuckin’ cold. You better have fuckin’ found my jacket by now, I’m gonna be pissed if no one was usin’ it while I was gone. Didn’t think I’d need it in Miami, but I didn’t fuckin’ think ahead. Please insert an additional five cents – oh fuck this – ”

You sat on the fire escape, wrapped in his jacket.

You saved the messages. You wished they came with a time code, wished you knew how long ago he landed.

Your thought was answered by the sound of a key in the lock.

Grinning, you climbed through the window back inside and ran into Pale’s arms, which wrapped around you with a strength you had almost forgotten.

I hope that this chapter was worth the wait!! 

Tagging some pals! As always, if you’d like to be added or taken off the list please just shoot me a message!  @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam@dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain@bourbonboredom@driverficarchive@aweirdlookingtree@rosalynbair@redhairedfeistynerd@adamsnackdriver @glitzescape@arwarz @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem@fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne @attorneyl 

[pouchesandwlkmans]

Confessions

Characters: Yondu, Reader

Pairing(s): Yondu x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 1535

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, language, implied sexual assault, smut

A/N: I whipped this up based off a bunch of little head canons. Do enjoy!

The battle was over. You had gotten free of the rogue Kree warrior, though the warrior had not fared as well. You could still feel the cold blade against your skin, but it was nothing compared to the scene that kept playing in your head. 

Yondu had dropped to his knees in surrender. The crew of the Eclector had already won, but the warrior had a bargaining chip against the captain. And that leverage was you. You, a simple Terran, the one Yondu would do anything to protect. You, the person he was surrendering to keep alive.

“This one will make a nice slave, Centaurian,” the Kree had snarled, tightening his grip on your arm. But instead of the fear the alien had expected, Yondu displayed a very different emotion.

He flew into a blind, uncontrollable rage. 

You saw a flash of blue, and the hand on your arm had disappeared. When you turned, though, you saw a side of the captain you never thought existed. A side he had tried so hard to keep hidden from you.

He was beating the Kree’s face in, a primal sound clawing it’s way from his throat. The body beneath him was lifeless within minutes, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. His fin was glowing brighter than ever, and when he finally stopped, you see his blood mixing with the purple blood of the dead.

Now, in the comfort of your shared room, there were so many questions. And you were almost too afraid to ask, but you had to. You needed answers, and despite his possible reactions, he needed to let it out.

“Yondu,” You began softly, but he cut you off. 

“I didn’ want ya to see that,” he muttered. “That side o’ me. Didn’ want ya to see the monster beneath.” You shook your head. 

“You’re no monster,” you argued gently. “Asshole at times, yeah, but you’re no monster.” He snorted and looked away.

“Didn’ like what he said.” 

“Why, though? You would have found me, saved me. I know you would have.” He got up and started pacing, his coat forgotten on the bed. 

“Long story.” 

“We have time,” you insisted. 

“Ya won’ like what ya hear.”  

“Yondu, just tell me. What could be so bad about-“ 

“Because I was one,” he finally snarled, standing toe to toe with you. And when you looked in his eyes, you could see everything.

The pain he was trying so hard to hide.

The anger, an anger you understood, at the barbaric practice.

The terror, which shocked you most. He was the strongest man you knew. Yet the idea of you being a slave to the Kree scared him. Why, though? What was he still not telling you?

He huffed and looked away, “My no good parents sold me to the Kree. I was just a kid. An’ they didn’ want nothing to do with me. Jus’ sold me and didn’ care.”

You could tell he wanted to still be angry, but he couldn’t. He was opening up, and it hurt. You knew it did. But with nothing and no one to rage at, he was left with no choice but to tell you. You reached for his hand, squeezing it briefly before he began pacing again.

“I could do th’ work. Wasn’t that hard. Got a few licks from the ones that like to hurt us for the fuck o’ it. But once they decided I was old enough, the worst part came. An’ that’s the part that made me hate them.”

You bit your lip, silently encouraging him to continue. He was doing so good. Better than most. You were worried, at any moment, that he’d clam up and undo the progress he’d made in such short time.

He sighed and sat on the bed, avoiding your gaze.

“I was ‘bout sixteen or so in Terran years. An’ they brought me into this room. I’d never been in it, so I didn’ know what to expect. But that room quickly became where most of my scars were earned.”

You carefully sat next to him and took his hand, and he closed his eyes tightly.

“They had a girl in there. Probably a couple years younger than me. I could see she was scared, but couldn’t get away. Bastards had her tied down. Wanted me to...”

You squeezed his hand, “You don’t have to say it. You’ve said more than enough.” He shook his head.

“I couldn’. I couldn’ do it. They bout beat me to death, but I wouldn’ give ‘em what they wanted. Made me sick thinkin’ bout it. Still does. An’ when I finally escaped, I promised m’self I’d never touch a woman, flesh or metal, without ‘er permission.”

You smiled, “That’s more than most Terran men even bother with. You are an amazing man, Yondu.” He shook his head.

“No, I ain’t. Cause I can’t give ya what ya deserve. I can’t give ya kids or a family cause I’m too damn scared. An’ it’s fucking stupid and I hate it.”

You frowned. Now you were reaching something that threw you for a loop. He huffed and met your eyes.

“I want kids. A family. More than anything in the galaxy, I want it. But all I can see is someone takin’ our kids an’ forcin’ ‘em into the life that damn near killed me, an’ I freeze up. I’d never forgive m’self if that happened. Seein’ him holdin’ that knife to ya throat, hearin’ him talk bout you like that... I lost it. I can’t lose ya to them.”

You squeezed his hand again, “Yondu, you won’t. I know you. You won’t let that happen. And I know you won’t because of everything you just told me. You’re not weak and you’re not a monster. You are so amazing, and I’m lucky as hell to know you.”

He rested his forehead against yours, “Don’ say that-“

“Any other man wouldn’t have hesitated, at that age, to hurt her. You didn’t. And that, my love, makes you so much more than your past. Don’t let it hold you back. Look at you now, Yondu. You’re the captain on the Eclector. You’re the best Ravager in the galaxy. You’ve risen above your past so much. And I love you with everything I am.”

He quickly pulled you into his lap, burying his face into your neck. And you let him. He had finally opened up to you, and you knew he needed this. Just this moment to hold you and remind himself that you’re safe. You soothingly rubbed his shoulders through his shirt, just feeling him breath. 

“The hell did I do to deserve an angel like you? Yer too good fer me, (Y/N).” You smiled and kissed his fin, though you knew he couldn’t feel it.

“You refused to harm a girl you didn’t know. You stood for what was right, even if it meant getting hurt. You stole a boy and raised him as your own because his father was a maniac. I find myself wondering what I did to deserve to even know you.” 

He gently kissed your neck, his arms tightening around you. You could feel, in his touch, how much he loved you. How much he needed you. And you knew you needed him too. 

“Easy. You looked at me and begged for help. And I was yours from day one.” 

You tilted your head as he began sucking on your neck, his hands sliding to your hips. His fingers toyed with your shirt before he pulled back slightly. 

“May I?” 

Two words. Two simple words with so much weight to them. You knew you could say no and he’d stop. Cause that was the kind of man he was. That was one of many things you loved about him. He was only an ass on the surface. Deep down, he was five times the man many thought him to be. And here he was, asking you permission to touch you. 

“Of course.”

His hands moved quickly, pulling your shirt over your head. He flung it aside, his crimson eyes briefly taking in the sight of your chest before sucking a nipple into his mouth. You moaned and arched into him. 

“Fuck, daddy,” you breathed, making him groan against your skin. 

“Say it ‘gain, sounds good comin’ off yer lips,” he ordered, and you quickly obeyed. 

“Feels so good, Daddy,” You whined, grinding down onto his clothed crotch. You could feel the ridge of his cock through the leathers, and could feel the growl in his chest. 

“Need ya under me. Now.” You whimpered, pulling away to tug the rest of your clothes off. You were bare to him, and he loved the sight. He stood and moved closer, his gaze making your nerves come alive. 

“So damn purty,” he purred. “Why don’t cha get on that bed fer daddy?” 

You scrambled onto the bed, turning onto your back in time to see him tug his shirt off. Only he could launch you into such a needy desire for him. Only he could create such heat in your core. 

And only he could satisfy your desire.

[yutikyis]

Honest Q&A: Round 6! Table

Hello all! It’s been a while since we were all together. I’m glad everyone was able to join our roundtable today. Hmm… looking over the questions submitted they seem to be… ahh, yes, this were all omitted from the previous questionnaires due to their… darker theme. Well, it seems my editor is looking to expand our readership. Very well, if anyone feels uncomfortable answering these VERY hypotheticals… feel free to pass.

First, a question for myself. Where have you all been? It’s been really hard to track you all down for another sit down lately.

Yuti:  “Ah... I’ve been b-busy w-with this and that.

Reri: “Same as I ever been. Huntin’ and screwin’. Ya ain’t seen me then ya either are blessed or cursed I guess.”

Rahya: “Um, same ol’, same ol’. I ain’t been that different. I been goin’ on walks with Grape an’ I found a nice pond! It’s got all kinda fishers in it an’ I saw a frogtoad once!”

Sayo: “My life has passed as normal. I have been exploring the land under the guard of Lord Vachir. I fear he is not overly excited about some of our exploration but he is kind about it.”

Tsukiko: “Ah, Lady Kususha. I am certain he is very kind about it. After all he is not a stupid man, nor a blind one. I have been waiting for new orders from my Master and aiding Kitakage in his missions.” Meichi’a: “Moi? I, of course, have been a shameless louse! Exploring the lands, drinking the finest wine, and just yesterday I spent a night with the most CHA-rming... ah and I’m getting glares again. Ahem. I’ve kept myself occupied.”

Alright, on to our… readers’ questions. <cough> Uh-hmm… let’s get this over with, shall we?

“If you had to kill one person you cared about to save the rest of the world, who would you pick?”

Yuti: “... P-probably myself? I k-know there are arguments to b-be made about t-the needs of the many a-and as a h-healer you n-need to decide these things but... I d-don’t think I could kill someone I c-cared about.”

Reri: “Haw! Like anyone’s surprised at that answer Snowflake. Me? Sure. It ain’t really a choice, is it? They’re gonna die if the world explodes or whatever. I’d just take whoever’s closest. Ain’t a big deal.”

Rahya: “Um... I... I ain’t... I ain’t gonna kill nobody, not even ta save the world. I’d keep on hopin’ an’ prayin’ that things’d work out. Aasifa’s got me belivin’ in luck so... I figure I’d just hold off an’ hope somethin’ good happens!

Sayo: “I... I suppose it would be my duty. I can not say I would... This is really a very unfair question. I... if I had to pick I suppose it would be Lord Vachir or perhaps Lord Benedict. Only because I believe the two of them would most willingly sacrifice themselves to save others! Not because I value them less!”

Tsukiko:  “If I was commanded to, of course. My highest priority is satisfying my Master and I can only imagine he would be... displeased.. if the world was destroyed due to inaction. One life is not worth more than many, especially weighed against the feelings of a mere servant.” Meichi’a: “I? I would sacrifice nobody. I have already sacrificed one person I cared about and the world is not worth more than that. Let it burn if it comes to that. Selfish perhaps but I never claimed to be anything but.”

“What is the worst thing you can imagine someone doing?”

Yuti: “Ah... t-that’s a difficult answer. I-if I had to say... it w-would be harming someone’s soul or mind. A b-body is a body a-and can be healed b-but to hurt their mind or their spirit i-is unacceptable.”

Reri: “Hah. Ya really want my answer ta this? Because I got some ideas. So, ya start with some fish hooks... now this works best if the bastard’s a guy... and ya start insertin... ya look kinda green there, fella. Ya want me to stop? Hah! Knew it.

Rahya: “Um... the worst thin’? I ain’t sure. I figure like... blowin’ up the whole world! Like in yer last question! That seems like the worst thin’ cuz everyone lives here, yah? So... where’d ya even live after ya do it? On rocks an’ stuff floatin’ around? Cuz... that seems awful inconvenient. How ya gonna make roads? I ain’t sure chocobirds can fly that far without gettin’ tired and seems kinda mean to ‘em.”

Sayo: “Ah. The worst thing I can imagine is someone shaming another. Shame is a terrible thing indeed. Many would rather endure pain and misery than face shame and dishonor... at least that is what Sire says.”

Tsukiko: “The worst thing one can do is take another. That... is all I can say.”

Meichi’a: “The worst thing one can do? To give up on life. I am afraid I must disagree with the charming silver-haired crumpet. No shame is too great, no pain is unendurable. To live is the greatest gift and to toss it away is far worse than any other. ”

“Do you think death is the worst fate there is?”

Yuti: “No. N-not at all. D-death is sad, true, but it isn’t the end of life, m-merely a transformation. T-to live in eternal a-agony or have your aether d-devoured o-or to be trapped for eternity... t-those all sound much worse.”

Reri: “Gettin’ creative there, Snowflake. I like it. Ya oughta go a bit further. Well, for once, me and the girl agree. Death ain’t so bad. Probably hurts a shiteload but I see things a lot worse than death. Ya don’t hear of folks prayin’ for the sweet relief of death for no reason, yeah?

Rahya: “I... no, it ain’t the worst thing. I’m sure hopin’ not. If’n I gotta be true... I figure death ain’t so bad for the folks who be dyin’. It’s worse for the folks who ain’t dead cuz they ain’t got the person they like ‘round much, yeah? I mean I ain’t wanna be dyin’... but I’m more scareda bein’ hurt awful bad an’ bein’ all alone...”

Sayo: “I must go with the consensus here I am afraid. Death is to be feared but it is not the worst one can imagine. The ancestors have after-lives of peace and comfort after a life of hard work. It does not sound like something to fear if you’ve lived a worthy live.”

Tsukiko:

“Death is certainly by no means the worst thing! Why, I can think of several things quite worse. Enslavement, torture, suffering... many of which some would consider death a release from!”

Meichi’a:

“Alas, once again I must disagree with these charming ladies. All this talk of afterlives and mortal suffering is fine and good, but a life is a life and death is a great mystery. Even if one should survive in some form, it isn’t *life.* No drinking, no dancing and most certainly no carnal nights spent in the comforting embrace of a lover. Life is the greatest gift we have.

“Would you rather know the date of your death or the cause of your death?”

Yuti: “A-ah... t-that’s tough. Probably the d-date. The c-cause might make me tempted to t-try to avoid it but if I know anything from stories t-that would make me c-cause it! P-plus if I knew the date I’d h-have time to set my affairs in order a-and make sure I’m not leaving anything undone..”

Reri: “Hells below Snowflake can’t you even die in an interestin’ way? I agree on the Date though... but not for the reasons ya think. If I know when I’m gonna die then I’m godsdamn sure I ain’t gonna die BEFORE that. Gives me more freedom ta do shite.”

Rahya: “Um... I figure I’d wanna know the date cuz... if I know I’m gonna die because a rock falls on my head or somethin’ then I’m gonna spend all day bein’ scareda rocks? An’ that doesn’t sound real fun. But if I know I’m gonna go poof then I can just not be afraida stuff until then, yeah? Cuz... Aasifa’s already like than an’ he seems happy.”

Sayo: “I must disagree. Knowing the date of one’s demise is... not what I would want. It feels... restrictive. The cause would be better I think. I do not fear the day I meet my ancestors but I do not want it lingering over my head.”

Tsukiko: “ Ah! But Mistress Kususha! What if you are told that you would tortured to death over a period of many days! That would hang over your head far worse! Or if you were told you would be blinded and starve to death on a desert island or...” Rahya: “Um could ya maybe please stop? I ain’t wantin’ ta hear alla that...”

Tsukiko: “Oh, a thousand pardons, Mistress Miqo’te. I meant to no offense, none at all! I certainly wasn’t *intending* to frighten you with your ignorance and shortsightedness.” Rahya: “Aw shucks, thank ya!” Tsukiko: “You are most welcome. Myself? I pick neither. I apologize if it does not answer your question but I do not wish to know the time nor the means of my death.”

Meichi’a: “I must agree with the ravishing raven-haired delight. Date or cause, it would hang over my head. Unless I was told that I would die from exhaustion after a night with several del- .. oh please don’t glare, my beret-bearing beauty! I was merely joking, merely joking!”

“If you were trapped on an island, would you rather resort to cannibalism or die of starvation?”

Yuti: “N-neither! I-if I was trapped on an island a-and had to r-resort to cannibalism, t-that would mean there are others there. W-we could work together to b-build a raft... t-then I can use conjury t-to help propel it a-and get off the island!”

Reri: “Ya ain’t stupid enough to think that’s the actual question, Snowflake.”

Yuti: “N-no! B-but... I mean...I s-suppose I w-would fish?”

Reri: “Still ain’t the question, Snowflake. Why don’t ya answer it?”

Yuti: “F-fine. I’d s-starve. It w-would f-feel... w-wrong...” Reri: “Knew it! Hah. Lookin’ Miss Prissy over here, thinkin’ she’s too good ta eat. Me? ‘course I’d do what it took to survive. Ain’t no difference between Miqo and Marlboro at the end of the day, ‘cept Miqo flesh probably ain’t gonna poison ya.”

Rahya: “I ain’t gonna do not cannyballism! Them things is big and explosive an’ madea metal! I couldn’t eat it even if I tried real real ha... what?”

Sayo: *whispers quietly*

Rahya: “WHAAA?! What kinda question is that?! I ain’t gonna eat nobody!!”

Sayo: “I must agree. To eat the flesh of a fellow Spoken is shameful and dishonorable. It would taint your bloodline and your legacy for generations. Starving is a kinder fate than that.”

Tsukiko: “It is true that such an act taints your bloodline. As I am already an *unworthy* servant of a tained line however it would not be shameful to eat the flesh of another... assuming they were already dead of course. Otherwise I would be honor-bound to offer myself first. Assuming one would like to eat *my* tainted flesh.

Meichi’a: “ Well, as much as I do enjoy eating a scrumptious beauty, it would not be in THAT way. I may consider life to be important but I am a gentleman first and foremost and there are some things a gentleman never does.”

“Would you rather have an arm hacked off or a leg?”

Yuti: “... I w-wish this wasn’t a question. A-ah... I m-mean... N-Nate seems to be doing okay... I g-guess... I d-don’t... A-arm? Yes.” Reri: “Easy. Arm. Ya can get by one one arm. It takes some work ta relearn to fight but ya can do it. Leg though? Shite, yer gonna be hobblin’ along. Lookit the Flames general. He ain’t havin’ a bad time.”

Rahya: “Um... I like havin’ arms. I can draw an’ move stuff.... an’ hug! I ain’t able ta hug nobody if I only got one arm... I mean I guess I kinda can but it’d be all.. *awkward one-armed hugging motions* so.. leg. Leg ain’t so bad. Plus ya could still ride on a chocobird or somethin’!”

Sayo: “I would choose to lose a leg. One can be far more productive with two functioning hands than two functioning legs. Honored Uncle has but a single leg and has little trouble getting by.”

Tsukiko: “I would choose an arm. My job is to go where my Master orders. It would be far more difficult to do with a single leg.”

Meichi’a: “Why, not even a question. The things you can do with two hands are FAR more fun. I make my coin from music and playing a harp with a single hand would be... well, not impossible but challenging! And as for dancing, I knew a gentleman in Limsa who could dance better than most two-legged gentleman with nary but a single flesh and single wooden limb! The sound of his peg-leg against the dance floor was a music all its own!”

“If you murdered someone, how would you get rid of the body?”

Yuti: “...I... t-that is... I w-wouldn’t...” Reri: “It’s a QUESTION Snowflake, not a confession a’ guilt.”

Yuti: “I am aware, Mother. Ugh. F-fine. I w-would... I m-mean... I s-suppose f-fire?”

Reri: “(In a whiny stuttering voice) I s-suppose f-fire. Aww, isn’t that cute. Fire ain’t bad but the best way ta hide a body is ta give it to the sea. Minimal fuss, hard as hell ta look for it, the fish do mosta the cleanin’ for you. You oughta weight it down so it ain’t washin’ up on shore or somethin’ but if ya wanna be smart about it ya lure ‘em onto a boat first. Less mess an’ trouble.” Rahya: I... i ain’t gonna murder nobody none but if I was gonna I ain’t gonna hide nuffin’ because I did a bad thin an’ I ain’t should be pretendin’ I ain’t.

Sayo: “I would never murder someone. Even in the unfortunate situation where I was forced to do so in self-defense, I would not deny my crime. I would be judged fairly by the administrators of the land so that no stain would come upon my family’s honor.”

Tsukiko: “Oh, MIstress Kususha. It is so very noble that you believe so firmly in the laws of the land and their fairness! You are a very fortunate woman indeed to never have had to hide a body by melting it into a easily washed away sludge using a careful mixture of alchemic and natural chemicals!”

Meichi’a: “... I am uncomfortable with that answer! Ah... me? I suppose I would bury it. I’m not really the murdering type but it at least feels respectful.”

“Would you rather hear the voices of dead people or see their ghosts?”

Yuti: “Ah... t-that’s tough. H-hear I suppose. T-that way I’d b-be able to help them i-if they needed it.”

Reri: “*snort* The last thing I need is some clingy dead folk cloggin’ up my hearing with moans and wails. I’d rather see the bastards. Maybe I can get some clue about what killed ‘em and if there’s danger about and I don’t gotta hear them whimperin’ and cryin’ because they were too stupid ta not get killed.” Rahya: “... I’d like ta hear folks ta be honest... be kinda nice. Like havin’ a buncha friends around. An’ if Aasifa... I mean... it’d be nice ta know I could still hear Aasifa, yah?”

Sayo: “Ah... to see, I suppose. The Kami and ancestors already speak in their own ways, but it would be... comforting to see my deceased family again. To see their smiles.”

Tsukiko: “Ah, what an unusual question. I would choose to hear. The words of the dead are wise more oft than not and not all of us are blessed enough to have worthy ancestors to whisper in our ears.”

Meichi’a: “I too would choose to hear. It is the least painful choice. To see a lost love and her smile and her beautiful eyes, knowing again I would never be able to hold her? That is a torture, my good sir, a torture. But to hear her voice, to speak to her again? That would be a blessing, if a small one.”

“If someone you loved committed a gruesome murder, would you help them cover it up?”

Yuti: “I-it would depend... I m-mean on why it happened.”

Reri: “Eh. Maybe. Depends on if it’s worth the trouble. Someone went an’ killed someone for no reason, nah. Ya can’t control yerself enough to not be stupid, I’m doin’ the world a favor lettin’ yer stupid arse get caught.” Rahya: “... I ain’t... n-no, prob’ly not I mean... I ain’t... gruesome is a real nasty word, it means all violent an’ bloody an’ stuff, right?”

Sayo: “No. Even if I loved them dearly, murder is a dishonorable act even if it isn’t violent and gruesome. They would need to stand judgement for their actions. If I was caught it would bring great shame to my family,”

Tsukiko: “If my Master commanded it.”

Meichi’a: “Absolutely. Love is love after all. Though I would dearly hope I do not fall in love with a serial killer. There is some spice in danger but ah... you’d have to be rather mad to be aroused by death.”

“Would you rather be kidnapped for six months and survive or die without any psychological damage?”

Yuti: “I w-would rather survive. I... I’ve h-had bad encounters before.”

Reri: “What the Hells ‘psychological damage’ mean anyway? Ya mean I’d be more fucked up after? Who the Hells cares. Survival is survial.” Rahya: “I’m kinda wonderin’ what psycho logic is too. I mean if yer logical then ya ain’t psycho right? It don’t make a lotta sense ta..”

Sayo: *whispering*

Rahya: “Oooooooh. Um... I ain’t... I mean... I ain’t wanna die but I ain’t wanna be hurt a bunch either... If I gotta pick one I guess I’d pick survivin’ so I ain’t... y’know.. dyin’.”

Sayo: “I would choose death. I do not know what would cause psychological damage but it would most likely involved great shame and leave me incapable of fulfilling my role as a second daughter. Death is the more honorable choice.”

Tsukiko: “I would survive, of course. I have no other choice.”

Meichi’a: “Survival, of course. Life is life and even the kindest days of life can damage our minds in some way or another. Why choose to die over something like that?”

“You can only save one… your worst enemy’s infant child, or your best friend’s true love. Who do you pick?”

Yuti: "I... w-would pick the child. N-no matter what, a child is n-not their parent. T-they are innocent and h-have their own life ahead of them.”

Reri: “Pfft. Easy. The kid. If yer too dumb ta avoid whatever danger is puttin’ a baby at risk, ya probably are gonna die when ya eat somethin’ poison cuz you thought it was candy. The kid ain’t trained enough ta stand on their own an’ frankly if it’s my worst enemy’s kid then they’ll probably grow up ta be a fun challenge.” Rahya: “Um... This is an awful weird question? I’m figurin’... um... I ain’t gonna let a baby die. I ain’t got no worst enemies but even if I did I ain’t gonna let a baby die. It ain’t right.”

Sayo: “... I... that is a difficult question. Sire would say that saving a respectable adult is more important unless the child is a Firstborn. I suppose that should be my answer...”

Tsukiko: “Why, whichever my master commanded. Truly it takes a cold individual to leave a child to a cruel and merciless fate but ah.. that may be what is ordered and I must obey.”

Meichi’a: “I am afraid I must say the true love. The child is innocent... but true love is the rarest thing of all. I would do my utmost to avenge the child but one who murders love is the cruelest beast of all.”

“Would you rather marry your most recent ex or spend five years in jail?”

Yuti: "T-that one is easy. My ex. S-she is a wonderful person. I-it would be by no m-means a bad fate.”

Reri: “Easy. Marry ‘em. Then I just ditch ‘em. Like what kinda question is this? Marriage ain’t important.” Rahya: “I ain’t really ever had an... ex-anythin’ so... um.. I guess imma get locked up.”

Sayo: “I have not had an ‘ex’ in any meaningful term... but it would depend on the circumstances. If it was marriage to someone my sire approved of then it would be my duty. If it was some sort of... tawdy kidnapping then I would choose imprisonment. I am certain Lord Vachir would come rescue me!”

Tsukiko: “*smile* Marriage, of course. Marriage is much easier to escape than prison.”

Meichi’a: “... Ah, what a question! How does one qualify an ex? The last woman I slept with? The last I took for a night on the town? I suppose she was rather charming but marriage? I’m not sure. It is a sacred bond and not easily broken. I suppose if I found love then yes. Otherwise.. well, jail it is!”

Thank you all for taking the time to answer these… ahem… questions. I appreciate your candor and I’m sure our readers do as well.  One last question of my own before we break. What’s next for you?

Yuti: "A-ah, I suppose I w-will continue my r-regular healing duties. I d-do have some e-exploration to do, m-maybe Lain will come along...”

Reri: “Same as ever. The four Fs. I hear there’s some kinda big arse monster bein’ spotted around recently, lookin’ forward ta tryin’ it out.” Rahya: “Um, I ain’t sure. Whatever happens ta me, I guess. i ain’t really plannin’...”

Sayo: “I intend to keep exploring Eorzea until I complete my mission.”

Tsukiko: “Whatever my Master commands. Until then, I suppose I will keep Kitakage out of trouble.”

Meichi’a: “Well, I saw this absolutely *beautiful* Elezen woman the other day, I am hoping perhaps to run into her again... ”

Tagged by: @peacekeeper-xiv

Tagging: @voidfirenate @anataerindottir @eyesseeingbeyondtheveil @onidephor @claihn Anyone else I missed!

[kalinkaooc]

Issue 53 updated rewrite

Decided Metal Man would probably be the one to be voted to talk to Wily, since he’s both one of the older brothers and least likely to have Wily get mad at.

“Hurry Rush, Guts is in danger!” Rock urged his dog to go faster.

Rush gave a bark and gave another push with his thrusters and they took on another burst of speed. It wasn’t long until they were at the coordinates Guts Man had given to them and Rock jumped off Rush, his buster ready.

“Alright! Drop you weapons and… huh?” Rock stopped seeing there was no fight.

“Bwa Ha Ha Ha! What are you doing?” Guts Man laughed as he came over to his little brother.

“Coming to your rescue?”

“Ha ha! What?”

“You called me and said you needed help. I thought the escaped Wilybots…”

“Hey I get it, it’s scary having them on the loos like that, but don’t worry none of them are around here to cause any trouble.”

“Yeah, so what did you need help with?”

“Just need a hand setting up a new wing of the robot museum/” Guts Man pointed to a truck parked on the side of the road with its back open.

“Oh uh sure, I can lend a hand.”

Rock gave Guts Man a fist bump to copy his Super Arm. He then walked to the truck to help unload it a small frown on his face. ‘I should have known it wasn’t a Wilybot attack. Guts would have said in the message if it were, so why did I automatically think it was?’ he thought to himself, ‘I didn’t want there to be a problem. Have… I… I… mean has my programing gotten too used to fighting…?’

He was suddenly broken out of his thoughts when he nearly bumped into something that looked far too much like Quick Man in a glass container.

“Ahh!” Rock stumbled back and raised his buster at what he thought was an enemy.

“Hey relax it’s just a replica.” Guts Man climbed into the truck and placed a calming hand on Rock’s shoulder.

“What?” Rock looked to Gut’s Man while taking a few simulated breaths to try and calm himself down.

“Yeah the museum wanted to add an exhibit for Wily’s bots for some reason.”

“Oh uh… that’s really weird,” he looked to the replica that looked far too much like the real thing, “And really creepy.”

“Yeah I know but humans are weird sometimes.” Guts Man shrugged. “Anyway, pick up a container and carry it in.”

Rock nodded and picked up the one with the Top Man replica, while Guts Man took the Quick Man one.

Once inside Guts Man smile and called out to another robot that was working, “Hey! You working hard or hardly working?”

The other robot turned around, rolling his eyes at Guts Man. “Har har. I’m busy finishing the interior. You having trouble carrying a whole eight contenders?” He then waved to Rock as he came in. “Oh, haya Rock.”

Rock shifted the container in his arms so he could wave back. “Hi Concrete.”

Guts Man knocked against Concrete Man playfully. “I knew Rock here could help me do the job faster. Work smarter not faster.”

Concrete Man shoved Gut’s Man back. “Yeah because both of those are tough for you.”

Guts Man got into Concrete’s face in a threatening manner. “Ok keep talking dirty, smart guy.”

Concrete Man glared back before the two burst into laughter.

“By the way Rock, you seemed pretty jumpy about the rogue Wilybots earlier. Did Pops find anything about where they might be?”

Rock shook his head. “No, we have no idea where they are. It’s been weeks and no one’s spotted them. I’m starting to wonder if they even know what to do with themselves now that Wily’s gone.”

“You can’t really blame them for what they did though.” Concrete Man rubbed the back of his neck. “If I was faced with reprograming or death I’d want to run away too.”

Rock nodded in agreement, though didn’t comment.

It didn’t take long to get all the replica Wilybots into the museum and Rock said his goodbyes to his brothers before flying away on Rush.

-

*In Wily’s new underground lab.*

Wily was working on a new robot model when Metal Man walked in.

“Excuse me, Master Wily?”

“What is it Metal Man, can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Yes, apologies Doctor, I just wanted to talk with you.”

Dr. Wily gave a shrug showing he’d listen.

“While the others and I are appreciative of you sending Shadow Man to inform us that you’re still alive and where you were, some of us are dissatisfied with the assailment you’ve given us.”

Dr. Wily turned around in his seat.

“So you’re telling me a bit of guard duty is beneath you?”

Metal Man held up his hands. “Not me Master Wily, I’d gladly fulfill whatever task you assign me. It’s just that when we came back many of us thought we would be fighting in your army again.”

Dr. Wily stood and looked Metal Man in the eye.

“Metal Man, my plans hinge on having my hostage stay a hostage, but it’s only a matter of time until Thomas or that Blue Brat find out what’s going on. Once they do they will try to send someone to rescue her, and if they succeed my plans will be ruined. So if you do not do the job I have assigned you then that’s another scheme out the window. You don’t want to be responsible for that do you?”

Metal Man shook his head.

“No, of course not.”

Wily sat back down and turned back to his work.

“Good now go tell your brothers what I told you and get back to work.”

“Of course Master Wily.”

Metal Man quickly turned back to the door and exited the room.”

-

On his way home Rock decided to check up on the reformed Wilybots to see how they were adjusting to their new jobs. From what he could tell it looked like all of them seemed to be pretty happy with their work and were even getting along with the DLNs they were working with. So why did that make him feel unhappy?

Not wanting to see anymore Rock flew off to the one brother he knew he could talk to without any Wilybots around. Making his way into the waist processing plant Rock found Fire Man down in the incinerator where he knew he’d be.

He chatted with his brother for a while before the real reason he’d visited came up.

“So I checked in on our brothers and the reformed Wilybots and they’re all doing great. I didn’t want to interrupt them, I just wanted to see if they were happy.”

“Were they?”

“Yeah.” The response came out a little more dejectedly than he meant to.

He was about to just clam up and not say anything when he met Fire Man’s optics and it all came out like a dam bursting. “They all seem so content in their functions. So why can’t I feel the same way? I was originally built for peaceful functions, but I’m not sure I want to stop being Mega Man now. Does that mean I can’t be happy unless I’m fighting? Do I have to do what I hate to feel fulfilled?”

Tears stared to poor down the young robot’s cheeks as he pulled his knees up to hug them. He didn’t notice Fire Man sitting down next to him until he felt an arm around his shoulders.

“Listen here partner. It isn’t the fightin’ that’s satisfyin’ you, it’s the helpin’ people. I’m thinkin’ you’re afraid that you won’t be able to help everyone if you’re not Mega Man. But right now the fighting is over, you’ve brought justice to the world. It’s ok to not be Mega Man right now. You can bring a brighter future with Dad as Rock.”

Rock smiled at this and wiped away the tears he’d been crying. “Thanks Fire, I really ought to hang out with you more often.”

“That’d be fine with me, now you get on back to Light Labs. I’m sure Dad needs some reassuring too.”

-

*Flash Back*

“And here we are, the humble begins of Light Labs.” A younger Dr. Light spread his arms out as he showed off the small place around them.

A younger Dr. Wily huffed as he looked around. “Hmph, you always did like alliteration.”

“Just wait until you see some of the schematics I’ve drawn up! I’ll make our doctoral thesis look like junk.”

Dr. Wily was less enthused. “Are you sure about this Tom? I mean… you’re already scoring a military contract while I’ve hit rock bottom. Why are you even talking to me?”

Dr. Light turned to face Dr. Wily with a comforting smile. “Because there’s good in everyone Al. I know you’re brilliant, and I know with a second chance you can make great things.”

“Heh… bring it all back to zero eh? Start from scratch?” A small smile played on Dr. Wily’s lips.

“Start over but not from nothing, I’ll help you out.” He stepped closer and squeezed Dr. Wily’s shoulder. “It never hurts to have a little faith in someone.”

-

*Present day*

Dr. Light sighed as he frowned at the memory. He then looked up when Roll started calling for him.

“Rock’s home, come on.”

“Right behind you dear.” He got up from his chair and started fallowing her into the hall.

“How’s it going Mega-est of Mans?” Auto held up a hand for Rock to high-five as he came through the door.

Rock gave the high-five as he armored down. “It’s all good, Auto. How’s Eddie coming along?”

“Going to try booting him up tonight.”

Roll ran up and hugged her brother. “Welcome home Rock.”

Rock hugged her back. “Thanks, sis.”

“Is everything alright? You were gone all day.”

“Yeah everything’s fine. I just needed time to… process things. But I’m home now and I’m definitely glad to get a well needed break.”

“Um sorry to burst your bubble, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to get that break. There’s something you need to see.”

The small family ran to see what Auto was talking about. On the screen of the TV was Dr. Cossack with a grim look on his face.

“Good evening people of the world. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor Cossack. You may not have heard of me but soon the world will know my name. For years Dr. Light as been hailed as the greatest robot designer in the world while my robotic creations have been totally ignored. I cannot allow this to continue. The world must be made aware of my genus. From my Siberian Citadel I have sent eight of my most powerful robots to destroy that titanium troublemaker Mega Man. Once they have eliminated him I will place his broken body on display for the world to see. Only then will I be able to take my place as the greatest robot designer of all time.”

The screen went black and the room was left in silence.

Rock barred his face in his hands and started to shake. “This… this is a nightmare.”

Dr. Light didn’t say a word. All he could do was collapse into the chair behind him and stare at the screen.

Roll reached out to steady her brother and herself to some extent. “This is exactly like Dr. Wily all over again!”

Dr. Light frowned a bit at that and put his finger to his chin thoughtfully. “Yes… yes it is.”

“Dr. Light?” Rock asked.

“It’s nothing, but this isn’t like Mikhail at all. He is the humblest man I’ve ever known, he’d never do something like this. Especially not something so brazen that would put Kalinka at risk. Something is wrong with my friend.”

“But after everything Dr. Wily’s done, no one’s going to give him a chance. They’ll just assume he’s another evil roboticist,” Roll fretted.

“His Robot Masters will come under attack and there’s nobody to stand between them and the people they might hurt.” Rock looked to the ground with a serious expression and armored up. “Looks like the world still needs Mega Man after all.”

Dr. Light placed his hands on Rock’s shoulders. “I’m sorry Rock. Pleas save my friend and his robots. Only you can do it.”

Rock nodded.

“I’ll try to call Kalinka and see if she knows what’s going on.” Roll ran to grab the phone and diedled Kalinka’s number.

Rock then called for Rush and he came running with a small red robot on his back.

Rock smiled and nodded to the little robot. “You got activated at a crazy time Eddie. Welcome to the team. Now let’s save the world again!”

And with that they were off.

[toycarousel]

Desperate Measures

(Homestuck, Cronus Ampora x Listener SFW Gore Script).

***This script was written by the wonderful melodiousclockwork, and sent to me to be recorded as a commission~! The full script is beneath the readmore -- though this is a SFW script (with a SFW audio following behind it) please heed the warnings!!!

Summary: You're in a stable, romantic relationship with Cronus, who has recently found a way to finally live on Earth with you.  Unfortunately, he can't pass off his appearance as "just a costume" forever, so to keep him safe, and under the radar, you both agree to make permanent alterations to his body.

Warnings: Fairly descriptive gore (horn related), sharp objects, swearing.

 Desperate Measures (Cronus/Listener gore):

***Bigender Cronus, currently identifying as male, thus he/his/himself pronouns. This should not affect how he is voiced.

(On a version of Earth where trolls have no established colony yet, you and CRONUS are living together after he recently found his way here. The two of you have been communicating long before his arrival, and had become an item after some time. Seeing him before you had filled you with immense joy, but now you worry, realizing that he'd be a target the way he is now. You could pass off his alien appearance as a costume...but not for long. The two of you conclude that you must help him disguise himself as human for his own safety, leading the both of you to come up with a plan in your bedroom)

CRONUS: So I'm thinkin' we could use makeup to hide the whole gray skin thing. I could use nail polish to cover my natural nail color. No clue what we can do about my teeth.


(You inform him that some people have their teeth filed into points for cosmetic purposes)


CRONUS: Oh, okay! Yeah, that'll make things a little easier, since we could claim it was a cosmetic procedure. Now, I think it's about time we address the biggest issue. The things we can't really hide or explain away. Somethin's gotta be done about my horns, eyes, fins, and gills. Those would be the biggest giveaway and the hardest to hide convincingly.


(You mention sclera contacts as an option, mentioning that they aren't exactly easy to use or light on the wallet, but would be worth it if they'd help keep him safe)

CRONUS: Alright, there's that pretty much covered then, so long as we can find some appropriate ones. But what about the rest? As much as I hate to say it...I think my horns will need to be...


(You ask him what he thinks needs to be done, though you can already see where this is going)


CRONUS: (gulps) ...Removed. Permanently.


(Your heart sinks at the thought, and you are silent. Though you know it's probably the only option, his horns are one of your favorite of his physical features, and you can only imagine how painful removing them will be for him on all levels)

CRONUS: And my fins...might need to be altered or cut off. My gills will probably need to be...stitched shut. Maybe they could be passed off as scars from some sort of terrible accident, or maybe a run-in with some bad people. And I can't bleed at all in public...


(You're having a hard time accepting the likely necessity of such extreme permanent alterations, prompting you to state how there must be some other way, though you know your words are fueled by denial)

CRONUS: I know neither of us really wanna do this, but you said yourself that it's too dangerous for me to go around how I am now. What other choices do we have, realistically, if I'm gonna live here?


(You mention the lack of a dehorning tool; you aren't sure one of those would even work on CRONUS' magnificent set of horns, but it's still a concern)

CRONUS: What, you don't have a saw?


(You tell him that sounds like a terrible idea; you know you aren't comfortable with the thought, at least)


CRONUS: It probably is a terrible idea. But which is the worse idea: Sawing off my horns or suffering at the hands of some prick because I didn't?


(You acknowledge that he has a point, but then recall that you have no access to any type of anesthetic, voicing this concern to CRONUS)


CRONUS: (with unconvincing bravado) I'll deal with the pain. I'm tough.


(You fret over the possibility of fucking up; both of you know he can't be taken to the hospital if something goes awry)


CRONUS: (choking up) If I bleed out, at least I'll die in the arms of the person I love.


(You argue that he'd be dying because of you; you could never forgive yourself if you let the love of your life die)


CRONUS: I'd hope you could forgive yourself someday. I wouldn't blame you for my death. It would be an accident... (attempting to reassure you and himself) But hey, that's if it happens. It probably won't.


(You confess that you are afraid, since it's a very real possibility)


CRONUS: (voice low, thick with dread and anxiety) Babe...can we  stop talkin' about dyin'? Let's just...work out how we're gonna do this. I don't think we need to talk about the risks, we already know them. At this point, bringing them up is just gonna make this harder on us both.


(You're silent for a moment before admitting he's right and apologizing. You tell him to head for the bathroom while you go grab a hacksaw from the garage)

CRONUS: (attempting to calm down) Alright, Cronus, you've got this. You can do this. Remember why you're gonna go through all this pain...

(CRONUS places a folded towel on the floor before lying down, his head on the towel)

CRONUS: (managing to regain some bravado) You're not just doing it for you. You're doing it for them. So you can be here with the one you love.

(CRONUS stops when he hears you coming up the stairs. You place a cooler to one side before you straddle his chest, pinning him and giving yourself some leverage. You take CRONUS' face in your hands and kiss him before moving his hair away from his horns in a last tender moment before picking up the hacksaw and grasping one horn, after which you place it as close to his skull as possible and ask if he's absolutely certain)


CRONUS: Not like I got much choice. Quit hesitatin', it ain't helpin'.


(You apologize and ask if he's ready)


CRONUS: Ready as I'll ever be, I guess.

(You nod, and express your love before lamenting the fact that you cannot make this any easier for him)


CRONUS: I love you too, it's okay. It's gonna be fine. I wouldn't trust anyone but you with this. Let's just get it over with, sweetheart.

(You nod again before steadying yourself. Once you're sure of your alignment, you begin moving the saw; at first, CRONUS is able to grit his teeth and bear it despite the saw in his sensitive horn base, but it isn't long before you strike nerves and he cries out in serious pain)

CRONUS: Oh God, this hurts SO MUCH WORSE THAN I THOUGHT!

(Your heart breaks for him. You try to calm him back down, shooshing him. You want to get a clean cut on the first shot, but he doesn't calm at all)

CRONUS: I'm tryin', babe, but it fucking hurts! That part of my horn is really fucking sensitive, and you're cutting through it with a fucking saw!


(You promise to make this as quick as possible, but remind him that it will take longer if he struggles; CRONUS' facade is completely broken by this point, and he is no longer able to hold back his agonized screams, nor his pained and terrified sobbing. You feel terrible that he's in such pain, but it doesn't take much longer to get through the first horn, and you set the detached horn aside before kissing CRONUS on the forehead. The tiny shred of comfort he feels quickly dies upon the saw touching his other horn)

CRONUS: (dread rising within him again) Oh no. Oh God nononono! I can't-

(It pains you to go through with this, but you know it must be done. You apologize and get back to work despite CRONUS' pleas. He screams again, fear overwhelming him even before you strike nerves again. You're suddenly nervous about anyone hearing him sobbing and crying out for fear of authorities getting called, so you implore him to keep his voice down or gag himself with a spare towel)


CRONUS: (on edge, angry) Well, excuse the FUCK outta me! What the hell ever, gimme the towel.


(You oblige, and he bites down onto it. His outbursts continue and only get worse as you saw through nerves, but at least now the neighbours shouldn't hear. You quickly get through the second horn as CRONUS begins to tire despite the pain. 

You set the final horn down near the first before propping him against the wall, treating his wounds with the utmost care and attention. CRONUS settles down with your care as you shower him in affection during the process. Once you've disinfected the wounds, you grab an ice pack and a bottle of water from the cooler and a towel from the cabinet, then give him the water before holding pressure with the towel to stem the bleeding and the ice pack on top of that to try easing the pain. 

Holding him close as you both lean against the wall and he drinks his water, you stroke his hair with your free hand as he helps you keep pressure on his horns. What were once an awe-inspiring set of horns have been reduced to nearly-level-with-Cronus'-skull stumps, making him look slightly closer to human, but...)

CRONUS: Keep 'em outta my sight.


(You inquire as to what he's referring to; there's a number of things you wouldn't want to see right now if you were him)


CRONUS: My horns. I don't trust myself to not throw up and instantly regret this if I see them off of my head and lyin' around right now.

(You place his horns in the cooler, effectively hiding them)


CRONUS: ...I'm sorry, babe. For all the yellin'. I'm sorry I got mean to you. Sorry I made things harder with my fussin'. You were just doin' what you could. Just doin' what you had to do.


(You shake your head, insisting he doesn't have to apologize as you can't blame him for reacting how he did, and telling him it's okay)

CRONUS: ...Babe?

(You acknowledge him)


CRONUS: Do you...do you still love me?


(You reassure him that you do)

CRONUS: (sighs in relief) Thank fuck for that.

(You get his attention)


CRONUS: Huh?


(You tell him how brave you think he is, since you can't imagine how painful this must have been, and must still be)



CRONUS: Hey, kitten?


(You respond)


CRONUS: I don't think I wanna do the rest of the modifications today. I think I just...wanna take it easy.


(You agree, seeing how stressful this ordeal has been for you both, and admitting that you have no idea what you'd do with his fins)

CRONUS: Ugh. I don't even wanna think about it right now.


(Neither do you. You ask him how he's feeling)


CRONUS: My head's killin' me, not as bad as it was, though. And I'm tired. But I think it's from stress, not blood loss.

(You suggest he try to stay awake, just in case. You ask him to keep you updated on his condition)

CRONUS: Will do. Love you, babe.

(You return his sentiment. The two of you relax and show affection to each other; you care for him for the duration of his recovery)

[END SCRIPT]

[woozletania]

Sanctuary, part 5 (RR/Lylla)

Rocket has a nasty little secret he doesn’t want to tell Lylla.  Turns out the opposite is true, too.

*****

Rocket’s afternoon did not go well.  Ever since she came on board, he’d been…confused.  Rocket didn’t like being confused.  Sure, his behavior might look aimless sometimes, to people who didn’t know that tinkering with things relaxed him.  He had his little routines, like counting all the spare  equipment twice a day.  Making sure there were enough space suits, aerorigs, enough ammo, traps and bombs for any conceivable eventuality, and repairing them or making more. Things to keep his hands busy so he didn’t have to think about life or how much it generally sucked.  Comforting little things lately interrupted by a curious girl-otter just as was happening now.

He instinctively bristled as she came up behind him, her long whiskers tickling his ear as she looked over his shoulder. His clawed hands paused, the Aerorig in one and a fuel capsule in the other.  He flinched as a whisker tickled and his ear and Lylla giggled, but she must have seen he was uncomfortable because she padded around in front of him and sat down to look at the assortment of tools.

“So that’s what they look like inside,” she said, her little chirpy voice as annoying as it’d been the last time.

No, Rocket told himself.  I’m not going to snap at her. She doesn’t know she’s annoying me. And she wouldn’t be if I hadn’t been trying to avoid talking her her at all.

“Part of it,” he said gruffly.  “Most of an Aerorig is mass-displaced until it’s needed.  Hidden in an adjacent dimension.  Y'know, like Pete’s helmet is normally just that stupid thing he wears under his ear.  I can refuel them without unpacking them, so to speak. Designed ‘em that way.”

“You built this?”  Her webbed fingers with their cute (and sharp) claws touched the line of parts he’d removed to get at the capsule and Rocket flinched again.  “Oh!  Sorry, Rocket.  I know you like things orderly.”

He watched as she carefully rearranged the parts, getting them almost, but not quite, back into the array he’d set out as he took it apart. Without thinking, without being able to stop himself if he was honest, he reached out and straightened one that was a few degrees out of line.

“It just makes it easier to put back together, y'know?  It may look like my stuff is lyin’ around at random, but it isn’t.  I know where everything is. I can do this blindfolded, and that’s not bluffin’.”

She looked him over, those deep brown eyes so like his own, that sad little smile.  So much like Mantis, really.  It was as though she were staring past the fur and claws and mangled little body they’d made, past the cybernetics and the scars, and into Rocket himself. Into the shriveled little soul that he kept attached to his body with habits like this.  Neatness.  Tidiness.  No vulnerability.  Just order, and toughness and sometimes, lately anyway, a little bit of friendship.

“What? Whatcha staring at me for?”

“Sorry, Rocket.  I’ll stop bothering you.”  She came up onto all fours, more comfortable that way with her short little limbs, and scuttled off towards the galley.  He could hear them welcome her to what sounded like a card game in progress, Drax’s booming voice, Mantis’s piping one.  He could even hear someone, maybe Gamora from the sound of it, scratch her behind her ears and the churr of pleasure that resulted.

But his Aerorig parts were still out of order.  Rocket snapped the capsule in, checked the fuel feed with a scanner, and began to reassemble it. This part here, and this part here.

“I am Groot,” said the little tree in the corner.

“I’m not bein’ antisocial.  Not any more than usual anyway.”  This part here, click, turn the fastener a quarter turn.

Groot scooted closer on what served the tree as a butt, and watched intently as Rocket finished reassembling the Aerorig.  He set it neatly to his left and picked up the next one from the pile on the right.  Turn the fastener a quarter turn, cover plate hinges off like so.  Rocket removed the innards a part at a time, arranging them in front of him in a neat little array.  Groot, even three-foot-tall young Groot, knew not to touch anything. “I am Groot.”

“I do talk to her.  I was just talkin’ to her, okay?”

“I am Groot?”

“Of course I like her.  Everyone likes her.”  Rocket muttered the next sentence under his breath.  “She was made to be liked.”  He went on at normal volume.  “We just talked about this earlier, okay?  We just went over this.”

“I am Groot.”

“Yes we did.  When I was workin’ in the access shaft.”

Groot just regarded him silently for a moment. Rocket glanced up, and even on a wooden face he saw…guilt?  “What?  What’re you lookin’ sorry for yourself for?”

“I am Groot.”

“Okay, it’s nothin’.  It’s all nothin’, okay?  Now let me work.”

Trying not to think about things was a full-time job but Rocket was very good at it.  He’d had lots of practice not thinking about things. When Pete showed up an hour later and turned up the volume on his media player he knew what was coming.  Pete was going to make him talk about it again.

“Have you told her?”

Rocket gritted his teeth and snapped two parts together with a lot more force than was really necessary.  “Get off my back, Pete.  I’m thinkin’ about it, okay?”

“If you don’t tell him the doctor will and then she’ll find out you already knew, man.”

“I know!”  Rocket slammed a logic probe onto the deck so hard that Mantis heard it even over the music and peered quizzically around the corner.  He lowered his voice until Peter had to lean in to hear him. “She doesn’t want to be a weapon, Pete. I don’t want to remind her that they didn’t make her just to be a diplomat, a linguist.  I don’t want to remind her that she was made at all.”

“It’s not your fault, Rocket.  Or hers. But you gotta tell her.”

“I will, okay?  Just stop bringing it up, she’s gonna hear if we keep talking about it.”

But he didn’t tell her.  Rocket was very good at not thinking about things.  He managed to keep busy working on a dozen little projects and not talking to Lylla until he was so tired he just curled up in his little round bed. Lylla was already asleep in her bed, the one he’d made her that lay within arm’s reach of his.  He was so tired he fell asleep before remembering that he was supposed to talk to her.  Rocket was, after all, very good at not thinking about things. He could even not think about multiple things at once, like how much he liked smelling her so close to him.

But his subconscious wasn’t so good at forgetting.  It’d been weeks since his last bad dream, and tonight’s was very bad.  Strapped to the operating table, the smell of antiseptics, the sharp, sharp knives sliding coolly through his flesh, the dull lifeless eyes of the surgeon as he asked the nerve tech to please shut him up, the screaming makes it hard to operate.

And this time, a new addition: Lylla, a table over, screaming as they cut her open over and over.

“No, no, no,” Rocket whined in his sleep, and his claws dug into the fabric of the bed as he tried to rip loose from the restraints. “No,” as he shuddered, every muscle locked, trying to get free and kill the men he’d already killed once, all except Paul, staring sadly from the sidelines, unable to sneak him painkillers this time. Paul didn’t need to die, but the others did, before they hurt him again, before they hurt her again…

Something interrupted the dream.  A warm, comforting presence.  Strong arms hugging him from behind, and something - sharp teeth? - gently grooming his nape.

Rocket came awake.  It was Lylla, who’d crawled from her bed into his to comfort him, just as he’d done with her when her nightmare hit a few days ago.  She was spooned up against him from behind, her warm body pressed against his own, her webby hands gripping him until he stopped shaking.

“It’s all right, Rocket,” she whispered into his ear.  “They aren’t here.  They can’t hurt you any more.”

The last time someone said that to him, It’s all right, Rocket, he’d broken down sobbing.  He wasn’t quite there yet, but she could feel the tension. And like the purpose-built diplomat she was, she sensed why it was there.

“Rocket,” she said into his ear, and gently groomed his nape for a moment.  It brought back old, old memories, from before the Uplift, of warm fur and safety.  From someone he didn’t remember well, because they’d taken him from his mother when he was no bigger than a man’s hand. And he only knew that because he’d heard dead men talk about it before he killed them. For a moment he shuddered, not sure whether to know comfort or hate for the men that took that away from him, and she went on.

“Rocket, I know there’s something you’re afraid to tell me,” she whispered into his ear.  “Because you’re afraid it will hurt me, right?  So I’ll make you a deal.  I’ll tell you something I don’t want you to know, and then you can do the same.”

She gripped him as he shivered, until he relaxed, at least a little. “All right.”

“When you pulled me from the cage, after you killed the guards, and I bit you…”

“You were scared to death,” Rocket said.  “It wasn’t your fault.  I was in a hurry, and when you’re in a hurry you take chances, make mistakes.”

“When I bit you,” she went on, and he sensed that she had to say this.  She didn’t want to, but she had to.  “My assassination programming, that tells me where to bite, I bit you and I felt the blood trying to come out.  I bit you in the artery under your ear and I knew I had killed you. All I had to do was leap away and let you die.”

“You didn’t,” Rocket said.  “You were so scared you held on and kept the bite going until we got out.”

“I knew I had killed you,” she went on remorselessly, “But I didn’t know the way out and there was all the gas.  Eventually it would get me too, even though I’m resistant, and as I held on and bit you I realized I had made a mistake.  Maybe you knew the way out.  So instead of jumping away I held on, and I kept the bite to keep you from bleeding to death because I thought maybe if I did you’d get me out before, before you died.”

She was shaking.  She was crying. Rocket didn’t know what to do.  He’d never had someone cry on him before.  It’d always been him crying, when his shell cracked and his weakness came out for all to see.

Except Pete.  He’d seen Pete cry too.  And crying wasn’t always bad, he’d learned.  Sometimes it just had to come out, and you’d feel better later.  So confused but understanding what she was going through he twisted in her grip, and for the first time he was the one to hug someone, to comfort them, to try to make them feel better.

“It’s all right,” he said softly, and held her tight.  “You were scared.  You were desperate.  It’s not your fault.”

And finally, when she’d cried herself out and they were snuggled together in the bed, he told her.

“It’s stupid,” he muttered.  “I should have just told you.  You already know they built in a killing technique when they Uplifted you.  You already know you don’t want to use it.  And you don’t have to.  You don’t have to do what they wanted.”

Lylla nodded, and waited for him to go on.

“I was going over your scans earlier,” he said. “You know I said there was some stuff I didn’t understand.  I’m an expert on machinery, but only when I can get at it.  I’m not so good with implants.  I’m okay, mind you,” he said as his pride bubbled up, but she just smiled and he went on.

“There’s a layer under your pelt,” he said, and stroked her soft chestfur. For a moment he paused.  Had he ever touched someone so gently before?  If so, he couldn’t remember.  “I don’t know what it does. Doc Foster will know.  But the main thing is this.”

He touched her cheek on either side, far back, where the hinges of her lower jaw lay.  “There are servos here that increase your bite force.  You already know that. But here,” he touched her a little higher, below her little furry ear, “There are implanted glands. I’m not a hundred percent sure, and I think they aren’t active right now, but I don’t see anything they could be but venom glands.”

“Venom,” Lylla whispered.  

“Poison,” Rocket said.  “So that you only have to bite someone once, no matter how big and tough they are.  Then you can run and they’ll die when you are away, when you are safe. So they don’t put all that time and effort to make someone who can only kill one person before she is caught.”

“That’s what Gamora said,” Lylla whispered.  “She wondered why they’d put all that work into diplomacy and linguistics if I was just going to be a one-use assassin.”

“You don’t seem upset,” Rocket said wonderingly.

She actually smiled.  “Rocket, they made you to be a weapon.  But you aren’t always a weapon.  You have friends, you like to tinker.  You don’t just kill everyone you see.  You kill when you need to. All those skills the gave you to kill people, you use when you think the time is right.  You are more than what they meant you to be, Rocket.  So am I.  Even if the glands are poison, they had to have made it so I could control it, right?  Or I could just have them removed.  It’s no big deal.”

“I can’t believe you’re so…so calm,” Rocket breathed.  “How did you go through all that and not end up like me?”

“Rocket,” Lylla said, and nibbled at his neck below the ear, right where she’d bitten him before.  “There’s nothing wrong with being like you. I like you just the way you are.”

No one had ever said that to him, not ever, and Rocket relaxed at last. There was just the warm comfort of the two of the snuggled up together in the same bed and the slow descent into sleep, and no nightmares.  And when Peter happened by in the hall a little later, and saw by the night-light the two of them curled up together sleeping, he smiled and tiptoed away.

[notes-the-newsie]

Backstory 2

Warnings: Mention of Death, Mention of Abuse.

Word Count: 3959

This one is going to be a little more sad then the last one. I’m sorry but I hope you all are enjoying her backstory so far! I am going to be getting more into her present time soon which means interacting with the other newsies and all. I hope you enjoy! ~ Sky

When I’se woke up, I didn’t know what was going on. Everything was blurry and I couldn’t hear anything but a ringing in my ears and a faint tappin’ noise. When I’se tried t’ sit up it felt like someone had stabbed me in the stomach. So instead of trying again I just sat in my bed thinkin’ ‘bout everythin’ that had happened. All I could think was that this was all my fault. That I could have done somethin’ t’ stop ‘em. I just kept sayin’ it out loud “This is all your fault Rose. You are useless” Tears started t’ roll down my face and I kept sayin’ that one phrase t’ myself. Suddenly that once faint tappin’ noise started to get louder and louder. I looked over at my window to see what the tappin’ was and sittin’ there was a boy. He was a tall and slim boy with bright emerald green eyes, brown hair and looked around the age of 10. He startled me so I jumped back into a corner of my bed and winced in pain realizing that I’se really shouldn’t me movin’. I looked at the boy with a confused look and he motioned me t’ come t’ the window and open it. Afraid of what might happen if I didn’t, I’se quickly went over t’ the window and opened it. The boy came in t’ my room and looked around not saying a word t’ me. After a few minutes of silence the boy said “What was youse sayin’ earlier?” I look at him confused. And he said “Ya know before youse opened the window. When youse was lyin’ on y’r bed.” Realizing what he was talkin’ ‘bout I looked up at him and said quietly while putting my arm over my stomach “I said… it was all my fault.” He look at me with a confused look. When he went look into my eyes, he saw the bruise between them and my nose. He took a quick step closer t’ me. I got so scared he was gonna do what my folks did I’se jumped back and quietly screamed. He was just as startled as I was, as he slowly started t’ back away from me, he got this look of realization on his face and once again started to slowly move closer t’ me. At this point I’se was shakin’. When he got over t’ me he put his arm ‘round my back and lead me t’ the bed and sat down with me. We just sat there while he held me in his arms; he made me feel so loved like someone in this world cared ‘bout me. “Hey kid,” He said with a warm and comforting smile, “I’m here for ya.” I looked up at him with a surprised look and said “Why?” He said, “Well ‘cause we’se friends now.” I was in such shock. I finally had a friend. One person who would care about me. I hugged him and started to cry. And he sat there holdin’ me and not hurtin’ me. That was a completely new feeling for me. “Hey kid, whats your name?” he asked. “Rose” I said with a slight smile. “Well its nice t’ meet ya Rose. I’m Noah”

Noah and I sat in silence as I laid with my head on his shoulder still cryin’. “Hey Rose, if youse is comfortable, youse want t’ tell me what happened” he said in a gentle and calm voice handin’ me a cloth to while away my tears. I looked up at Noah and nodded my head as tears rolled down my face just thinkin’ ‘bout what happened. So I’se told Noah my whole story. By the end of my story, Noah was red with anger. And I wondered to myself how could someone I’se just met or anyone at all care ‘bout me so much. Lost in my thoughts I’se didn’t realize that Noah was stomping towards the door of my room. Ready to go out and face my parents for what they did t’ me. “Noah no!” I yelled as he was opening the door. I grabbed his arm just in time t’ stop him from doin’ somethin’ stupid. I pulled him back into the room and glared at him like he had two heads. “What was youse thinkin’?!” I said in a surprised and angry tone. Noah just stood there and stared at me. I didn’t know what was goin’ through his head. But I’se needed t’ figure it out before he gets himself killed. Noah still red faced with anger said “What your folks did t’ ya… that just isn’t right! They’se shouldn’t have done that t’ ya you’re just a kid. You don’t deserve t’ be treated that like that.” With the same amount of fury and pain in my heart I said “You’re just a kid too Noah! If youse had gone out there youse could have been badly injured or even killed. They’se a lot bigger and stronger than the both of us. We can’t do anythin’.” A single tear rolled down Noah’s face. I’se could see how conflicted he was. I knew that if he could do what he wanted he would storm through the door and fight tell he drops. Be he knew that if he went out there and he lost the fight, then my folks would come in here and hurt me even more. So Noah stayed and he didn’t fight my folks. But he made one promise t’ me, he promised that he would always be here for me. And that if I’se ever needed him, he would be there at my window in a heartbeat.

For the next 9 years Noah would come t’ my window every night t’ talk about our days. Most nights he would bring me food ‘cause he knew that my folks didn’t give me much. If I’se was havin’ a bad day Noah would come inside and sit with me in bed in silence. Now I’se know just sittin’ in silence may seem a little weird but the connection Noah and I had was so special, loving and strong that we didn’t need words t’ comfort or make each other feel better. We just needed t’ be together and in each other’s presences t’ feel better. One night when I’se was 13 my folks was beat on me ‘cause I’se got sick from the cold weather. They’se beat me so bad I’se didn’t even have the strength t’ get out of bed t’ open the window for Noah. But Noah found a way t’ open the window and get inside. As soon as he stepped inside he ran t’ me layin’ in bed. He could see all the dark purple and blue bruise runnin’ up my arms and neck. I’se tried t’ hold back my nasty cough and sniffles ‘cause I’se already knew how much Noah worried ‘bout me on a daily basis especially when he saw that I’se had a lot of bruises. But I’se couldn’t hold ‘em back. They caught Noah by surprise. The minute I’se started t’ let out my coughs and winces of pain Noah had a panicked look on his face. Drownin’ me in questions ‘bout what happened he had went in t’ a state of protectiveness. “Noah” I said “Youse don’t have t’ worry ‘bout this. This has happened t’ me before and look I’se still here.” All Noah did was stare. Then without sayin’ a word t’ me Noah climbed out the window and was gone like that.

For the next 2 days, I’se didn’t hear that familiar knockin’ on my window. I didn’t have the embrace of my best friend, my only friend. I was so angry. So many thoughts ran through my head. How could Noah just leave me? Why would he just leave without sayin’ a word t’ me? What did I do wrong? Why did I ruin the only good thing I had in my life? Then that one dreaded thought came into my head “This is all your fault Rose.” With the strength I’se had left in me, I got up and walked over t’ my window. Placing my forehead against it, I cried. I cried for hours. Cryin’ ‘bout how I chased away the only person in my life who cared ‘bout me. I heard a loud pound; I’se didn’t know where it was comin’ from so I back away from the window burying my head into my legs protectin’ myself from my folks hurtin’ me again. The poundin’ turned into a slow knock and I picked my head up t’ see what was happenin’. I’se turn t’ the window t’ see Noah standin’ there with that wonderful goofy smile on his face. I’se ran t’ the window and opened it as fast as I can. Fallin’ into Noah’s embrace, I felt that feelin’ of protection and love again. The protection and love I’ve longed for, for those 2 days. Noah stepped back to say somethin’. However, before he could say it his once goofy smile was wiped away from his face. He look at me and saw that I’d had gotten worse. Not that I’se had gotten sicker. He saw the amount of bruises I’se had all over my arms and neck. He took my face in his hands t’ look at what had happened t’ it. I’se had a black eye and broken nose, blood still dried ‘round it from when my father kicked me for coughin’ t’ loud. All Noah could think of doin’ was just hug me. He took me in his warm embrace and guided me t’ my bed. He looked at me and said “Rose, I want t’ say I’m sorry for not tellin’ you where I was goin’ 2 days ago. I didn’t mean t’ make youse upset. And I know youse were sick and that your folks were beatin’ on ya for it so I wanted t’ get youse somethin’ special. I’se know it ain’t much but I worked day and night t’ get enough money t’ buy this for ya.” As he said that, he pulled out a beautiful cotton handkerchief with my name sewn into it. “Noah. This is beautiful,” I said starting t’ tear up. “But why did you do this? Youse could have used that money for yourself, t’ buy yourself a good meal.” Noah smiled “I did this ‘cause Rose believe it or not but youse is a good person and you deserve so much better then what you have now. So I’se thought that I would get this for you to show you and remind you that someone cares ‘bout you. That you are loved Rose no matter what anyone says.” He wiped away my tears and all I could do was hug him. I’se just sat their huggin’ Noah until my tears ran out. I couldn’t thank him enough. I couldn’t be more grateful t’ him. It might just seem like a little cloth that most folks blow their nose into. But to me this little piece of cloth symbolized the love that someone felt for me. It will always remind me of the one person who cares and love me. Noah.

Noah and I had a special thing we would do every night. Now it might seem a little strange at first but it was our tradition. Every night before he left we sat on my bed and finish our food. Then he would help me into bed and cover me with my blankets. Noah would sit on my bed and say “Rose you are loved. You are cared for. And I will always be here for you. Now goodnight and sleep with the angles.” On nights that my folks beat me a lot Noah would stay with me tell I’se would fall asleep t’ make sure my folks wouldn’t try t’ hurt me during the night. He knew I did not want him t’ risk being caught but he wouldn’t leave until I’se fell asleep.

One night 3 years later, he did something different. While Noah was helpin’ me into bed, he said “Rose let’s run away t’ Manhattan.” I look at him like he was insane. ‘Cause he was. With the most serious look I’se ever seen on his face he said “Come on let’s do it. We’se can run away and escape this place. Your folks won’t be able t’ find ya in Manhattan. Youse can start a new life where you don’t have t’ constantly worry ‘bout if youse is gonna get beat tonight or not. We’se can run away at night when your folks are sleepin’.” The more I thought ‘bout it the better it started t’ sound. T’ finally be free of this place. Finally be free of the torture that I’ve endured for 9 years. Free t’ live a life with my best friend and t’ not have a care in the world. I sat up in the bed and said, “I’m in.” The joy on Noah’s face practically lit up the room. He’s told me that he had been wantin’ t’ do this for years but he thought that I’se was still t’ young to run away and it was t’ much of a risk.

So the night came. The night I’se would finally have my freedom. My folks were especially cruel this night. They left me with a limp from kickin’ me so hard in the stomach and legs. Noah knocked on the window with a smile wider than ever. He knew that tonight would be the night I would be safe. Tonight would be the night he would be able t’ finally give me the life I’se deserve. So I’se climbed out the window carefully with the help of Noah. Before we started to leave, he handed me a newsboy cap. I looked at him with a confused look and he said, “This is how we’se is gonna make money. We are gonna have t’ become newsies.” I didn’t argue with him. I took the cap, put my handkerchief in it, pined my hair inside it, and put it on my head with a playful smile on my face. So we ran. We ran and ran until we saw the Brooklyn Bridge. In the moment, I felt so free, like I could fly right through the sky. Then all of a sudden, the other pair of footsteps behind me stopped. So I stopped without turnin’ around and said with an immense amount of excitement in my voice, “Awe come Noah we’se is almost there. See there the Brooklyn Bridge!” “Rose” Noah said with a fearful but protective voice.

I turn around t’ see what he was doin’ and all I saw was somethin’ I could only imagine in my worst nightmares. Noah on his knees being held by the hair by my father who had his brass knuckles on the other hand and my mother with a smirk youse could see from miles on her face. I went t’ run at them and t’ fight them but my father said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you sweetheart unless you want to see you little friend get hurt.” With him saying that, I slowly backed away and said, “Don’t worry Noah I’se will get us out of this mess and we will go live our lives in Manhattan just like youse said!” My mother laughed, “Oh my sweet and naïve Rose, when this is all over you will never see the light of day or this boy ever again.” She kicked Noah’s side. “Stop!” I yelled. “Please don’t hurt Noah. He did nothin’ wrong. It was… it was all my fault.” I said defeated and sad. “Rose just forget about me” Noah said, “I’ll be fine. You go live your life. You deserve it Rose. You may not know it but youse has helped me through many things these past 9 years. Youse helped me grow and you’ve shown me what it’s like t’ have a true friend who cares for you. Please don’t go back t’ that awful life. You don’t deserve it you deserve t’ be love and not cared for by some jerks who beat you every day just for who you are.” My father kicked his back making him fall; hit is face on the ground, and wince in pain. “Oh wow that’s so sweet boy,” my mother said. “But you’re wrong. No one loves you Rose. And no one ever will. If you go t’ Manhattan you’ll just come crawling back to us, beggin’ us t’ bring you back in.” My mother said with an evil cackle. My mother started to move closer t’ me and try and grab me but Noah grabbed her leg t’ make her fall. For that, my father kicked him straight in the stomach. Noah let out a cough and said “Run Rose run!” I was in shock of what was happenin’ all I could was just stand there. “Now!” Noah said before failed attempt of tryin’ t’ block my father’s foot on connectin’ with his stomach. “But Noah I’se just can’t leave youse here. I can’t, I just can’t,” I said as tears rapidly flowed down my face. “R-rose please.” Noah said as blood dripped from his mouth. I took one last look at Noah and ran. Ran out of sight of my folks and hid. I look up from where I’se was hidin’ t’ see my best friend bein’ kicked and punched by the people who have tortured me my entire life. I could see the blood he was coughing up and that was dripping from his nose. I wanted t’ go help him. I wanted t’ save my best friend, my only friend from the torture I have endured for so many years.

My father gave one last powerful kick into Noah’s stomach and walked away from the bleedin’, barely breathing boy. Once I’se saw my folks were gone, Ise ran over t’ Noah and laid his head into my lap. “Noah…. Noah I’m so sorry. I’se didn’t know this was goin’ t’ happen. I’se didn’t know they’se was following us. This is all my fault. None of this wouldn’t have happened if I’se was more careful. It all my fault.” I said with tears drippin’ on Noah’s blood matted face. He lifted up this hand, held my face in it, and said “R-rose none of this was your fault. This w-was the risk that I was willin’ t’ take… for you. I d-didn’t care what happened t’ me, all I’se cared ‘bout was gettin’ you t-t’ a better place away from those horrible people.” With tears runnin’ down both of our face’s I just held Noah in silence for a minute until I said “Noah please don’t leave me. I need you. Youse is my only friend. The only person who loves me and cares ‘bout me. Please don’t leave.” Noah was coughin’ up more blood every minute. I knew I’se didn’t have much time with him left. With that I started to cry out for someone t’ help. Someone to come save him. “H-hey, hey R-rose its ok. S-stop callin’ for help, your p-parents might hear ya and come back.” He said and before he continued I said “But Noah I need someone t’ help you. T’ fix ya up” He weakly laughed and said “R-rose its t-t’ late for me. But it’s not t’ late f-for you. Youse can still have life. A life of freedom and a life free from the abuse of your parents.” I looked down and cryin’ some more said again, “Noah youse just can’t leave me not now. I’se still need you.” He wiped away my tears with his blood-matted fingers wiping some of it on my cheek. “R-rose y-youse don’t need me. Look how far y-youse have made it. You’re about t-t’ cross the Brooklyn Bridge to a new life that is all y-yours. That’s all you R-rose not me.” He said with a weak goofy smile on his face. “Noah youse helped me here. This all happened ‘cause of you. I am where I am t’day ‘cause of you. ‘Cause of everythin’ youse has done for me. Just please Noah don’t leave me.” I said with a sad and desperate tone. Noah’s eyes started t’ close. “R-rose. You are loved. S-someone will always care for you. Y-you will live a wonderful happy life.” He said smiling. Coughing up more blood, he said “Rose I will never leave you. I will always love you and will always here for you kid.” With that, Noah took his last breath. I held him as I felt him take his last breath. I just sat there and cried hugging his lifeless corpse sayin’ “Noah no. Please come back Noah please.” But he never woke up. I cried holding him. I gently set him down before talking one last look at the only person who loved me in this horrible world. And I looked at the Brooklyn Bridge and stood up. “I love you Noah” I said before walking towards the Brooklyn Bridge. I didn’t wipe away my tears. I didn’t wipe away the blood on my face. I just walked.

I walked and found an alleyway and collapsed on the ground and screamed out in agony. I heard footsteps coming towards me so I put my arms up in defense afraid of gettin’ soaked. “Hey kid. Is everythin’ ok? I’se heard ya cryin’ from across the way.” A boy said with a gentle tone. I look up t’ see a tall boy with beige pants, a blue button up, blackish brownish vest, a gray newsboy cap similar t’ mine, and a white cloth-like satchel around this shoulder. I whipped away my tears and nodded. “Youse got any home kid?” He asked. I violently shook my head no. He extended his arm to help me up and I flinched away. “Hey don’t worry Kid I’m not gonna hurt ya. Youse must have been through a lot.” He said lookin’ at my face with covered with tears and Noah’s blood and my own. I slowly reached my hand to the boy’s. As he was pullin’ me up, he said “The names Jack Kelly. Youse got a name kid?” He asked with a gentle smile. “M-my name is…..” I stuttered not wanting t’ tell Jack that I’se was a girl afraid of what might happen t’ me. “Well youse got a name kid?” Jack laughed. “M-my name is Notes.” I said with a shaky voice. Jack said with a happy smile on his face. “Well Notes welcome t’ Manhattan. Youse can stay with the rest of the newsboys in the lodge house.”

Well and that’s my story folks. Who knows what will happen next. I’se don’t even know. I’se know my story ain’t a happy ending. I’se wish it were sometimes too.

I hope you enjoyed Note’s backstory everyone! From here on I will try my best to make a chapter of the story from where the About Me left off. I really do hope you guys enjoyed and thank you so much for reading! I will try to post soon! ~ Sky