#I just wanted to smoke and look through my mags and now I’m crying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crashdevlin · 4 years

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Centerfold 4- Memory’s Been Sold

Centerfold Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for Meghan who requested some fluffy A/B/O smut and then I came up with an idea and ran with it. Smut will start after the plot is established. Also, this is gonna go toward my @spnabobingo squares. This chapter fills my Slutty Omega square and is rated E for Explicit.

Summary: Dean is living the normal-boring life with Lisa. When he opens the newest Playboy, he gets the shock of his life.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Beta!Lisa, Alpha!Dean x Reader (memory)

Word count: 2083

Story Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!! , masturbation, pornography, mentions of multiple partners, mentions of fem-fem porn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean pulled his pickup into the gas station down the street from Lisa’s house...his house. He had a house. He had a home, a family, an 8-5 job on a construction crew. He had...a real life. A real boring life. He was bored, but he supposed it was normal to feel bored, right?

“Hey, Jerry. The coffee fresh?” Dean asked as he walked into the convenience store.

“Half hour old,” the clerk, Jerry, answered with a smile. “And, uh, it’s Tuesday!”

Dean chuckled as he grabbed a thick paper cup and poured dark, bitter liquid into it. “New mags came in, huh?”

“Yeah. The Penthouse center is hot as hell, man. Oh, and the Playmate of the Month is the hottest omega I’ve ever fuckin’ seen!”

Dean laughed as he fitted the top on the cup. “Well, bring ‘em out, man. You know I’m gonna buy ‘em.” He took a drink as he walked up to the counter. Jerry had a Penthouse and a Playboy on the counter already. “They’re that good, huh?”

“Dude...especially the omega Playmate, man. She is smoking hot.”

Dean set the coffee on the counter and picked up the Playboy, slipping it out of the sleeve and looking at the cover. The cover was a woman, Taffy Rose according to the tiny script on the bottom next to the photographer credit, in a strawberry-print bikini and bunny mask. Hot, but nothing special. Nothing different or new. But he flipped the magazine open to the center and gasped.

“Holy shit.” The bunny mask was gone, her body on full display except the bits of skin hidden by the pink feather boa. His throat went dry. His cock got hard in jeans. His head felt like it might explode.

“I know, right?!” Jerry exclaimed, happily. “Isn’t she the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Yeah. She’s the hottest thing I’ve ever…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he focused on her neck. No mark. He hoped they hadn’t photoshopped one out. She was the hottest thing he’d ever touched, tasted, the best thing he’d ever missed out on...Taffy Rose, Y/n Y/l/n...his omega. Dean cleared his throat and tried to close the magazine, but he couldn’t. She’d grown up so beautiful and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “She, uh...she been in anything I might’ve seen?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I’m Googling her name as soon as I get home. I suggest you do the same, man.”

“Yeah. Uh...I’m just gonna...I’m just gonna take the Playboy. I’ll get the Penthouse next time, Jer.” Dean threw a ten on the counter and walked out with the magazine, leaving his coffee behind and not even caring. He sat in his truck cab for a few minutes, staring at her photo. Y/n went into porn. Whoever would have thought that sweet little innocent young woman with the overprotective parents would- “Actually, no, that makes sense.”

He rubbed his hand over his erection as he looked at the ‘fuck me’ look in her eyes. It didn’t take long for his mind to drift back to her under him, holding him, letting out gasping cries as he fucked her, that look in her eyes as she dug her nails into his shoulders.

His cock softened as he remembered getting on the phone with her to tell her he was leaving.

He felt like he was going to cry when the line clicked. “Y/l/n Residence!”

“Y/n, it’s Dean.”

“Oh, hey! I just got finished washing every surface you touched,” she said, giggling. That giggle tugged at his heart. “I can’t wait to see you again, though. It was so worth the cleaning time.”

“Yeah, uh...it was awesome, baby, but...my, uh, my dad called.”

“Oh?” Dean could almost hear the heartbreak in her voice.

“Yeah. He...got word of a job in Connecticut. He’s pickin’ us up tomorrow.” There was silence on the line for a minute. “Y/n?”

“You’re leaving?” she squeaked.

“Yeah.” Dean had to fight the tears. “Yeah, we’re leaving.”

“But...what about...I...am I gonna get to see you again at all?”

“Not unless you can sneak out tonight. Dad’ll be here in the morning. We’ll be gone before noon.”

“Oh God.”

Dean took a deep breath and started the truck, driving home with a pit in his stomach. He immediately hid the magazine in his desk and sat in the rolling desk chair. He looked around to make sure Lisa and Ben were both out of the den area, hoping they were out of the house, before pulling up Google and searching for ‘Taffy Rose omega xxx’. Several thousand results popped up, so Dean went to the first. A video on Pornhub labeled ‘Sweet omega Taffy seduces her best friend Kat at a sleepover’. Dean swallowed and licked his lips, turning his volume down almost all the way and clicking on the video. She looked fairly innocent, without looking fake, which was a feat of its own considering he knew he was watching porn. The other actress wasn’t pulling it off anywhere near as well, especially the overacted reaction to ‘Taffy’ kissing her.

Dean could remember making out with her when she was just a little younger than the 18 year old she was pretending to be on his screen and it filled him with yearning to see her wrap her arms around this other woman’s neck and pull her in for a passionate kiss. He watched a little longer before hitting the back button and started searching through more and more results.

‘Omega Taffy Rose and her hot omega stepmom’ ‘Taffy Rose fucks her best friends’ ‘Sunny Sweets and Taffy Rose Turth or dare’ ‘Batgirl and Supergirl caught by Poison Ivy’

“Holy shit, she’s the hottest Supergirl,” Dean whispered, as he pulled his dick out of his jeans and started pumping it. It occurred to him, as he lazily jacked off and clicked through the ‘Taffy Rose’ tag on XNXX .com, that she was always with other women, usually other omegas. It took him forty minutes of clicking to find ‘Beta Brad Bull wants to know what omega tastes like’.

Not a single alpha in any of her videos, and not a mark on her neck, despite the fact that so many of her omega co-stars had marks that they had failed to cover no matter the makeup they used. And Brad and Taffy didn't go further than oral.

"That's weird," Dean whispered, tucking his dick back into his boxers but leaving the jeans open in a V. "Usually 'mega actresses are getting knotted every other scene."

He clicked off of the porn site and went back to Google, searching 'Taffy Rose alpha'. He found several blogs asking why a porn actress was unmated, some wondering how she could be in this business without fear of being taken by force, and some judging her for doing porn in the first place, but eventually he found an interview with her. He turned up the volume a bit and started it.

"Taffy, you have just burst on the scene and you've been staring in so many films this past year, it's crazy how popular you are all of a sudden!"

"Yeah, it is. I mean, I just started this as a fun way to make some money and now it's a full-on career!" Dean gasped at her voice. It was deeper than he remembered, seasoned with age, but that giggle at the end was exactly the same. That giggle made his heart hurt.

"Well, as long as you're having fun, right?"

"Exactly!"

"Now, I've noticed, and I'm not the only one, that you seem to favor lesbian scenes. Is that a personal preference, a reference to your actual sexuality, or-"

"Oh, no! I love guys. I live for cock, but…” Dean’s dick twitched at that. Why did her voice sound so musical...especially saying something so filthy? “I don't fuck alphas and there's a lot more work for an omega willing to fuck another omega than an omega willing to fuck a beta."

"Now, why don't you fuck alphas? It would seem a natural thing for you, right?"

She looked down, a bit of the bashful teen girl showing on her face. "Um...I just...it's dangerous, since I'm not mated...and it's special, ya know?” She bit her bottom lip and looked back up and Dean’s jaw dropped. “I may be a slut, but I can't fuck some random alpha and take his knot. I've never taken a knot and...probably never will."

"Fuck, I'd give anything to have you on my knot, Y/n," Dean whispered as the door opened and Lisa and Ben entered. Dean scrambled to exit out of the browser and cover the open jeans with his t-shirt. Reality crashed down on him. There was his family. There was his beta girlfriend and her son...his boy whether by blood or not. “H-hey, honey. How was work?”

“It was good. How was your day, Dean?” she asked, walking over to the desk in the den.

“It was-it was a day,” he answered, tilting his head to allow her to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” Lisa asked, pulling open the half-closed desk drawer. She gasped and slammed the drawer closed when she saw the magazine. “I cannot believe you!” she snapped.

“Come on, Lees, it’s just a Playboy,” Dean defended.

“‘Just a Playboy’? Dean, you’re living with a teen boy now! You can’t have this stuff! You can’t expose him to-”

Dean scoffed and stood, looking down into her eyes. “Lisa, I promise you that boy knows about porn and knows how to find the good stuff online. My Playboy is probably too tame for him.”

“How dare you? Ben would never-”

“Yeah? Check his browser history.” Dean rolled his eyes and stepped around her, walking out of the house and to the garage. He grabbed the cover and pulled it up just enough to open the door and climb into the front seat of the Impala. He took a minute to let a wave of nostalgia roll over him at the feel and smell of his baby before he settled back, legs kicked out and jeans shimmied down enough to pull his cock out.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around his base. He could see Y/n in his mind. He could hear her laugh. He could see her smile, the way her eyes lit up when he said her name. He started moving his hand up and down his length as he remembered the way Y/n looked at him the first time he sunk his dick into her.

He ran his thumb across the head and gasped as he remembered her digging her nails into his shoulder muscles, how innocent she sounded when she said ‘I think you can go faster’, the way she whimpered with every thrust, the way she wrapped her legs around his waist and babbled his name, the way she whispered ‘harder’ and thanked him when he grabbed her white wood headboard and started pounding into her like the alpha he was. He wanted nothing more than to knot her, but she couldn’t take it.

She could take it now. He wanted to fill her and knot her and make her scream. He wanted to hear her moan and giggle and gasp and-

His breath caught as cum shot out of his cock, splashing over his hand. He gasped in a breath before another stream of semen left him. “Fuck.” Dean fucked himself through his climax until there was absolutely nothing left for him to give and then he slumped into the leather.

He was suddenly filled with despair. He found her. His omega, the one that got away, the one woman his mind returned to in quiet moments. He found her, but she was in the San Fernando Valley in California and he was in Cicero...with Lisa and her boring, normal life. Lisa and her son that she coddled. Beta Lisa that sent him away when he went into rut, who would never be able to take a knot. He loved that Lisa took him in, nursed him back from the brink of breakdown, but the yearning he had pushed down since he was sixteen years old was now back with a burning vengeance.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld @pretty-fortune @screechingartisancashbailiff @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @imperiusimpala

Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm @deanmonandnegansbitch @jadesupernatural @stoneyggirl @4fareader @squirrelnotsam @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @pretty-fortune @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits

Centerfold Tags- @mychemicalimagines @moron225 @ladyofmaidensandwine @that-one-gay-girl @roonyxx @teresa-67

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #reader-insert #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!dean #omega!reader #lisa braeden #pining #pornstar!reader

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finleyfray · 3 years

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Black Lungs

aka I watch too much Chicago Fire

Tw: angst, death, swear words

It was late in the evening and Finley was sitting on her bed. She was halfway through her shift and so far there have been no accidents. Luckily for her she could just relax.

Fin looks at her phone and sees a text from her girlfriend Alex in their group chat.

‘Done with my shift, can I come to the fire-station? Mags, will you come too? I wanted to ask you something.’ – Alex

‘Yea, babe, you can come to the depot. What do you want to talk about? It Makes me anxious.’ – Fin

‘Okay, I’ll be there in 10 mins.’ – Mags

‘Promise it’s nothing bad! Don’t worry!’ – Alex

Finley pouted thinking about what Alex wanted to ask them. They’ve been together for 4 months now. It was hard to find time to meet with her being a firefighter working 12 hours shifts, Alex being a doctor and Maggie being a detective.

There were times when they would be chilling watching some movie and Alex would be called in to perform a surgery. Or there was a large fire and needed more units and Fin being a lieutenant had to gather her unit and go help.

There was a knock on the door and Finley smiled as she saw her girlfriends. She went to the door and opened it for them.

“Hi.” She greeted her girlfriend and let them in. She quickly embraced them both in a hug and led them to sit on her bed.

“Hey.” Maggie smiled. “So, Alex, what’s up?” They both looked at their redhead girlfriend.

“My mom’s in town with her man J’onn, and they’re staying with Sam and Ruby and Sam wanted to do a family meeting so they invited me, Maggie, Kara and Lena and their kids too. So they know I’m officially with Maggie but I thought maybe it would be a good time…” Alex hesitated.

“No.” Finley cut her off.

“Why?” the redhead looked at her in disbelief.

“I think that it’s a good idea.” The raven haired woman looked at them fidgeting with her fingers. Finley always got defensive when they were talking about coming out to Alex’s family. It always ended with an argument between them.

“If you think that’s a good idea you can go with Alex and see them. I am not ready to do that.” The black haired woman growled and stood up from her bed.

“You always do that! Every time I mention...”

“Exactly! Because we do this almost every fucking week. I want you to meet my sister! I want you to meet my sister in law! My niece and my nephew! There’s a reason I keep saying no. You might not see the pressure, but let me sum it up for you! Your mother aka bioengineer, her boyfriend the head of FBI, your sister Sam, aka the lawyer, your other sister Kara, who is the second best reporter in the entire city, her wife, CEO of the biggest company in the entire city...”

“I don’t see where you’re going.” Alex interrupted her.

“When we break up, I’ll have to move to the fucking Alaska, cause my life here will be destroyed!”

“Finley!” Maggie growled at her. “What’s this nonsense!?”

“So you don’t want to meet my family because if we break up they're going to, what, bully you!? That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard! When we break up!? What are you already planning to? This is a joke!” By now Alex was shouting angrily.

“I mean IF.”

“Yes, sure, you meant IF. That’s bullshit and you know it. We might as well...” There was a loud alarm and Finley sprang to the door.

“We’ll do it later, there’s a fire alarm.”

The firefighter dressed up quickly in her uniform and they drove to the place. Their chief was already there giving out orders.

The fire came out from the huge garage and it was spreading fast. On the street stood a woman holding a 3 years old boy in her hands. Finley went to her.

“We woke up to the fire alarm, so I grabbed Liam and ran while my wife, Kara went out to get Kim, she was in another room. Now they aren’t out yet!” She spoke fast, panicking. “Please go get them!”

“Don’t worry madam, we’ll get them out.” The firefighter said calmly and she led her team to the house.

“You go get the woman, I'll get the kid. When we go, open the roof and start putting out the fire.”

“Got it lieutenant!” her team went inside and she followed. Going upstairs she heard a crying kid. She kicked the door, and searched for the girl.

“Hey kid, I’m here to help you, can you tell me where you are?” The child said nothing, but out of instinct Finley looked under the bed. “Come on, your mommy is waiting outside.” The girl began coughing and Finley cursed mentally. She helped the kid out under the bed and took off her mask putting it on the kid to help her breathe. “I want you to breathe easy, in and out.” The firefighter instructed the kid and the blue eyed girl looked at her following her orders. “We’re going out of here.” Finley took the kid and they began going outside. “I’ve got you kid, I’ve got you." Just as they went downstairs, the wooden stairs shook and broke under them. Fin hugged the kid close as she fell on the ground losing her breath for a minute. She heard her “firefighter down" alarm going on.

“You good?” she grasped looking at the blonde girl.

“I want mommy...” Girl cried.

“I know baby girl, I know...” Finley tried to move but she couldn’t. Her body hurt and she wanted to close her eyes. The firefighter coughed feeling her lungs hurt. There was too much smoke. She really needed the rescue squad.

The black-haired woman looked around her. There it was, the clear escape route for the kid. By now, every second matters, the building won’t hold on for very long.

“Hey kid? The door is not so far away, you think you could run there for me? Your mommy is right behind them waiting for you.”

“I’m scared...” the girl looked at her terrified.

“I know baby girl, but you can do it! You’re a big girl, and your mommy needs you to be brave.” Finley tried to smile to encourage the kid.

“What about you?”

“I’ll follow you right after.”

The girl stood up and began running for the door.

“See you in a minute...” Finley whispered as she closed her eyes.

***

Alex ran to hug her sister.

“Kara, what happened?” She asked, worrying, looking at her sister. “You okay? Where’s Kim?”

“We were sleeping when the alarm went off, and Liam slept with us so I went to go get her but there was fire everywhere, and next thing I know firefighters are leading me out. They said another one of them will go get Kim. But they aren’t out yet Alex!”

“It’s okay, they’ll get her out.” The redhead hugged her sister and looked around.

Maggie was standing next to a tall man who had jacked on with ‘Chief' written on it. Alex led Kara to Lena and went in their direction. Just as she was walking a man ran past her and began speaking.

“Chief, we need to send the rescue squad in!”

“No. The building is old, if someone goes in, it will collapse.”

“I’ll go in, just let me! I’ll get Finley and the kid!” The man yelled, becoming more frustrated.

“No one goes in, that’s an order Jay! They’ll go out. ”

The redhead went to Maggie.

“This is terrifying. I’m scared.” She whispered.

“I know, me too” The raven-haired woman hugged her as they looked at the building with worried expressions.

They watched the front door for what seemed like hours, but it’s only been a minute. They heard an alarm going on inside and the man called Jay put on his mask. “I’m going in!” but they all froze when they saw some small figure running out of the house. Kara rushed to pick up her baby, she quickly grabbed her and took off her breathing mask. The girl cried and Alex felt relieved. Her niece was safe.

Jay didn’t even reach the front door when the building shuddered and they saw the floor collapsing. Everyone stopped breathing for a minute just looking there, not believing their eyes.

“Finley!” Alex cried and collapsed in Maggie’s arms.

#sanvers x oc #maggie sawyer x oc #alex danvers x maggie sawyer #alex danvers x oc #Alex Danvers x Original Character #Maggie Sawyer x Original Character

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minuteminx · 3 years

Text

Revolutionary

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

Chapter Five: Old Appalachia

Chapter Summary: Charlie's not sure she's cut out for the Commonwealth, but fate thinks otherwise.

[First Chapter]

[Previous Chapter]

[AO3 Link]

“By being natural and sincere, one often can create revolutions without having sought them.” ― Christian Dior

Outskirts of Concord, December 2287

Charlie had always been somewhat of an idealist. She had to be, growing up in bumfuck Appalachia in a family just high enough above the poverty line that the government wasn’t legally required to offer financial assistance. Her dad was an overworked, underpaid line worker in some automotive factory, and despite never once stepping foot in a coal mine, he carried his ancestors’ resentment toward anything and everything “nucular,” as he called it. He’d always pop off with these wild conspiracy theories about atom bombs and the end of times. It seemed laughably prophetic now.

Her mom had stayed at home, reading books to her and her little brother, and promising them they could change the world if they wanted to. It was those words that kept Charlie going, pushed her towards that Ph.D. that had seemed so monumental back then, so important. Now, as she stomped around an irradiated wasteland, caked in blood and aching from head to toe, she realized how fruitless it had all been. All those years training to help other people only to spend over two centuries in cryostasis and wake up unable to even help herself.

Thank God for Preston. She didn’t know what would have happened to her if she hadn’t almost died trying to help him at Concord. She really had no business in a suit of power armor or holding a minigun and fighting a fifteen-foot tall lizard. Even nearly two months later, she couldn’t come up with a single logical reason why she volunteered so readily. Was she now going to throw her life away just because a friendly face asked her to? She laughed at herself. Probably.

Charlie found herself doing a lot of things simply because Preston asked her to. Grueling, difficult tasks like “eating enough,” “staying hydrated,” and “getting a good night’s sleep.” He drove a hard bargain, that Garvey. What did he take her for anyway? Someone stable?

In the past month, he’d been taking time away from the laundry list of other things he had on his plate, just to teach her some excruciatingly basic Commonwealth survival skills. She’d learned the names of all the things that could possibly kill her: Raiders, Gunners, zombie-like creatures called feral ghouls, supermutants, various types of wildlife threats, and radiation. Everything was irradiated, from the food to the water to the thunderstorms . At this rate, she just figured she was either going to die or grow an extra ear on her forehead. It was a tossup.

She’d also asked Preston to help her learn to protect herself. She didn’t like the idea of guns or violence or any of it, but it was foolish to walk through Hell defenseless. He tried so hard to teach her to shoot one of those god awful laser muskets, but it took too long to ready a shot that she was inevitably going to miss anyway. He had eventually given up on trying, and instead placed a 10mm in her hand. It was nicer than the one she’d used in Concord, with glow sights and an extended mag. Apparently Sturges had fixed it up for her. She was beginning to believe there was nothing that man couldn’t do with a roll of duct tape and half an hour.

“MS. CHARLOTTE!”

Charlie jumped as Codsworth abruptly hovered in front of her face. She’d almost forgotten the Mr. Handy unit had accompanied her on an assignment for Preston, out in Lexington. Once she’d shown some proficiency with a weapon, he thought it would be good practice for her to take out a “small” band of Raiders who were troubling a nearby settlement. It was not small, and while she dealt with the issue and convinced the Tenpines settlers to throw their lot in with the Minutemen, Codsworth knew she’d not gotten out of the ordeal unscathed.

“What, Codsworth,” she asked, more annoyed than he deserved.

“Mum! Oh thank goodness you responded,” the robot exclaimed giddily floating about in front of her, “You have been staring off into nothing for the past hour of our journey despite my efforts to entertain you with conversation.”

She had not noticed him speaking once, well, at least not since he’d mentioned Nate and Shaun when they’d passed by the rusty remains of a playground. Maybe she’d tuned him out after that. “Sorry Codsworth. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Are you aware that you are bleeding?”

“What?” Charlie glanced down to the large tear in her vault suit, and the blood pouring from a bullet wound in her thigh. She hadn’t even felt it since she used one of those stimpak syringes. She’d almost forgotten she had it. “ Shit. ”

“Such language, mum! Hardly befitting of a lady of your stature.”

“Find me a lady of any stature who doesn’t curse when she’s been shot in the leg,” Charlie quipped, grunting as she sat down to redress the wound, “Do you still have that gauze you picked up at the plant?”

“Yes, of course,” came his quick reply as he produced a bundle of cleanish gauze in one of his metal arms, and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, taking the cloth from him and beginning to work, wrapping it tightly around her leg. She just needed something to stop the bleeding until they made it back to Sanctuary. They weren’t too far now, maybe a mile or so from the bridge.

Once she found her amateur wound dressing to be suitable, Charlie continued on back to the settlement, Codsworth prattling on endlessly about the bliss of pre-war life. She understood where he was coming from. That didn’t mean she wanted to hear it.

She stopped suddenly in her tracks when she spotted movement ahead of them, off to the side of the dirt road. It looked like a man in raider leathers, digging for something.

“What is it, Ms. Charlotte,” Codsworth asked loudly and without an ounce of tact.

Charlie shushed him, but it was too late, the man had already heard them, rising to his feet and moving his hand to draw his weapon. She didn’t let him have the chance, firing several rounds into his chest before he could. She hated that she was getting good at that.

She approached the body, prone and lifeless, and knelt down, beginning to rifle through his pockets for anything useful: ammo, stimpaks, caps . Yes, caps . If anyone had told her that in the future the formal currency would be Nuka Cola bottle caps, she wouldn’t have tossed so many of them in the recycling bin.

It wasn’t until she looked up that she noticed that there was another body, a young woman lying in a shallow grave also donning the signature raider attire. Her arms were crossed ceremoniously across her chest, hubflowers scattered across and around her body. Charlie looked down at the man she’d just killed and remembered that he had been digging.

She felt sick. In her mind, she conjured an entire tragic scene in which a poor, mourning raider had simply been trying to bury a loved one and was startled by the obnoxious shouting British robot. When he reached for his gun, just a reflex, he’d been shot in the chest by some cagey redhead with an itchy trigger finger. If she’d only paid more attention, she might have noticed sooner and she and Codsworth could have taken a wider arc around the man. He wouldn’t have had to die.

Pocketing her looted items, she holstered her gun and bent down to pick up the shovel, starting first by filling in the grave of the lady raider. It was the least she could do.

“Pardon me, Ms. Charlotte,” Codsworth asked, attempting to be gentle, “What are you doing?”

She sniffed her nose, fighting back the tears she wanted to cry, and pointed the shovel at the woman. “He was just trying to bury her.”

Charlie swore she could hear the gears in Codsworth’s massive metal head clicking and smoking as he tried to make sense of her behavior. After a moment, he spoke. “Need I remind you that these scoundrels would have murdered us on sight?”

She shook her head and stuck the shovel into the dirt. “Doesn’t matter.”

As she worked, her memory was flooded with painful, frozen flashes from the vault. Images of the callous man who killed Nate and stole her baby, of Nate’s stiff, frozen body that still lay in the cryochamber, perfectly preserved with the exception of the fatal gunshot wound in his chest. Charlie had opened the chamber, hoping she could save him, or at the very least say goodbye, but he was already gone. She’d slipped the wedding ring from his finger and left him there, entombed along with the rest of her neighbors who unwittingly signed themselves up for a sick science project. When Preston learned what had happened in 111, he offered to help her lay everyone to rest properly, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t stomach the idea of walking back into that frozen hell.

She could, however, offer some absolution to this Raider.

“I’m going to bury him next to her,” she announced, looking at Codsworth before moving over several feet and beginning to dig a new plot.

The robot protested with an exasperated huff. “I applaud your sentimentality, mum, but it is getting quite late. At this rate it will be completely dark before we return to Sanctuary Hills.

“If you want to go on ahead, you can,” Charlie said with a dismissive wave up the road, “Tell Preston I’ll be along shortly.” “Perish the thought,” Codsworth retorted, properly offended. “I will not abandon you to the wasteland at night. Just… do please hurry.”

Charlie worked as fast as she could, but her body was weary from her days of journeying and fighting, so digging and filling in the grave had taken longer than it should have. When she finally finished, the clock on her PipBoy read “23:00,” and the sky was completely dark, well except for the stars. They, at least, had survived the apocalypse.

It was after midnight before Charlie hobbled across the bridge and into Sanctuary Hills, Codsworth zooming past her, a cacophony of buzzing and whirring and shouting for Preston. At this rate he was going to wake up the entire settlement. She managed to make it over to the home where Sturges had set up his workshop, and flopped herself down on the concrete with a grunt. The effects of the stimpak had worn off, and with the bullet still lodged firmly in her leg, it hadn’t healed entirely and it throbbed like a bitch.

There was a hurried rustle of footsteps, accompanied by Codsworth’s voice complaining about how she’d “foolishly buried some raiders against all good judgement.” If anyone needed a chill pill, it was that robot.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Codsworth,” Preston said, a gentle laugh falling off the ends of his words, “I’ll handle it from here.”

“You’re most welcome, Mr. Garvey. I apologize for my mistress’ recklessness.” His words were pointed and Charlie couldn’t believe she was being tattled on by her own Mr. Handy. He zoomed off to busy himself with the fruitless task of trying to restore their old home.

Preston shook his head, and continued to laugh as he approached Charlie, “Man, that machine is something else.”

“No joke,” came Charlie’s weak reply, as she attempted to adjust herself to sit more comfortably.

“Whoa,” Preston exclaimed and rushed to her side. “You okay?

He hadn’t noticed the wound, and for whatever reason Charlie didn’t want him to. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He frowned, warm brown eyes flicking down to the blood seeping through the gauze on her leg, and then looked back up at her. He smiled, but she could tell he was worried. “That’s funny, ‘cause you don’t look too fine.”

“I beg your pardon,” she bantered. Deflection. She couldn’t stand the way his concerned expression made her feel. “I know I’m not a supermodel or anything but--”

“Charlie.”

She faltered under his gaze, tears immediately bubbling up in her eyes. She took a deep breath and fought them back before speaking. “There were more Raiders than we thought. Codsworth and I got overwhelmed and I got shot in the leg, but I’m fine. People get shot around here all the time, right?”

“We try to avoid getting shot,” he remarked, his exasperation not quite as shrill as Codsworth’s, “How many raiders were there?”

“Fifteen, maybe twenty.”

“Jesus.” He rose to his feet and walked over to the metal cabinets just past one of the workbenches. He knelt and opened one of the doors, reaching far back inside. He emerged with a full fifth of Old Appalachia and a medical kit that was, like everything else in the world, held together by duct tape. He returned to his previous position at Charlie’ side and sat down making an almost concerted effort to make eye contact. “You know I wouldn’t have sent you out by yourself if I’d--”

“This isn’t your fault, Preston.” She lay a hand on his arm, and offered him a smile. “If anything it’s mine for rolling in the front entrance, guns blazing.”

He laughed. “Man, you’ve got to be more careful.”

“No promises.” Charlie lifted her hand from his arm and pointed to the bottle of whiskey. “What’s that for?”

“You,” Preston answered, picking it up and handing it to her, “We have to get this bullet out of you before it gets infected, and you’re going to want something to dull the pain. So, start drinking.”

“Say no more.” Popping open the bottle, she kicked back a long, burning swig. The whiskey tasted like home and two-hundred years ago. She watched as he opened up the medical kit and dug through the items inside. “Have you ever done this before?”

“What? Dug out a bullet,” he asked, bitter smirk on his lips, “Yeah. More times than I would have liked. Like you said, people get shot around here all the time.”

Charlie took another drink and swallowed hard, the alcohol not working fast enough to keep her pulse from jumping at the sight of metal tweezers and rubbing alcohol. “How bad does it hurt?”

Preston laughed again, glancing over at her this time. “Bad.”

“Well… that’s comforting.”

“I’m just being honest,” he explained, positioning himself so that he had a good look at her affected leg. He took his gloves off and looked up at her, “May I?” She nodded nervously, and watched as he unwound the bandage and cut away the remaining pieces of vault suit. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the injury until now, and she was thankful that the bullet seemed to be of a small caliber, like those that turrets fired, and wasn’t lodged too deeply. Under the bright lamplight, she could see it’s dull metal reflection. Preston sighed in relief, most likely noticing the same thing.

That it would hurt “bad” had been an honest understatement. Even after several shots worth of whiskey, the sharp burning pain of alcohol and tweezers pulling the bullet from her thigh was enough to make her light headed. Even Preston’s gentleness couldn’t spare her that much, and she squirmed and held her breath just to keep from screaming and waking up the others. When it was all said and done, she was trembling, out of breath, and sobbing like a child.

“Congratulations,” Preston said softly as he began to dress the now clean wound, “You survived your first Commonwealth surgery.”

Charlie let out a weary laugh and let her head fall back against the wall behind her, looking up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused. “Thanks, doc.”

“Don’t mention it.”

There was a long pause in which she heard him inhale as if he were going to say something, and then exhale as if he thought better of it. She brought her eyes down to him, effects of the alcohol really hitting her, along with the endorphin high. “Something on your mind?”

He stopped what he was doing to meet her gaze. “Why’d you go to all that trouble to bury those raiders?”

“I…” She began, but hesitated, worried that he’d disapprove of her compassion for members of a group that’d terrorized him for days on end at Concord, who killed some of his friends. “I thought it was the right thing to do. When we walked up on him he was in the middle of burying a comrade. He’d spread flowers over her and everything…”

She choked on the last words and trailed off, but Preston seemed to understand, as he nodded and went back to dressing her wound.

“I feel sorry for them sometimes too,” he admitted, as he tied a neat knot in the bandage, “They might be messed up, but they’re still people.”

“Right.” Charlie nodded.

“You’re a good person,” he stated, eyes fixing on hers. “I’m… I’m glad you decided to stick around.”

Her face became hot. It must have been the whiskey finally getting to her, she told herself. After all, it wouldn’t make sense for her to get all flustered over a compliment. She carelessly let her hand fall on his arm again. “Me too.”

Charlie awoke the next day, more afternoon than morning, tucked neatly into a bed that she could scarcely remember crawling into. In fact, everything from the time Preston had finished dressing her wound was blurry and she made a mental note to avoid the Old Appalachia from now on, or at least to refrain from drinking half a fifth in one sitting. She crawled out from beneath the thin blanket and sat up, leg aching more than it had since she’d gotten shot. Damn.

Glancing down, she noticed she was wearing a pair of faded jeans that were too short for her and an old white tee that exposed her navel when she raised her arms to stretch and yawn. They were not her clothes, and she’d no idea whose clothes they were, or how she got out of her vault suit and into them. She snorted out a laugh at the thought of poor Preston fumbling around in the dark trying to help her change. She doubted that’s what happened, but her memory was too fuzzy to say it hadn’t.

Across the room, folded neatly atop her dresser was a familiar blue and yellow fabric, and she hopped up-- too quickly, wincing at the pain in her leg-- and limped over to take a look. Picking it up and unfolding it, it took her a moment to realize that it wasn’t her whole vault suit anymore, missing an entire bottom half, and split open down the front. She also noticed that there were neatly stitched seams along the edges. A jacket? Someone had gone to the effort of making a jacket from her vault suit and she didn’t even know who to thank.

She slipped one arm in and then the other. It fit like a glove, a much more comfortable, less skin-tight glove than it had previously. A quiet knock on the doorframe nearby drew Charlie’s attention and she darted her head up to see Marcy standing in the doorway, smirk in place of her signature scowl. Suddenly, Charlie remembered.

“I’m glad it fits,” Marcy said as she looked Charlie up and down. Preston had woken the other woman up the night before to ask if she had anything Charlie could wear. Marcy had cursed and complained, but ended up shooing him away and helped her get changed and into bed. Apparently she was also the culprit behind Charlie’s new jacket. “Couldn’t salvage the whole thing.”

“You did this,” Charlie asked, examining the sleeves.

“Yep,” Marcy stated, looking down at the ground as if she was embarrassed, “Couldn’t get back to sleep after Garvey woke me up, and figured it might be good to have. Considering none of my clothes are quite long enough for your beanpole ass.”

Charlie laughed, and tugged at the bottom of the t-shirt. “Thanks, Marcy.”

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it. I still think you’re useless,” Marcy retorted with a huff, but it was clear she didn’t mean what she said. “And I want my clothes back as soon as you find something else to wear.”

Charlie nodded, and Marcy turned to walk away, but stopped and pivoted back around on her heel, pointing an index finger at her. “Mama’s been waiting for you to wake up. She found some Jet this morning and is off her rocker talking about some bright glowing heart shit. Just a heads up.”

Before Charlie could even say her thanks, Marcy was gone. Turning her attention back to herself, she realized she had no clue where she’d left her PipBoy. She scanned the room, and saw it sat on the floor near her boots. Picking it up and examining it for damage, she fastened it to her wrist and then slipped on her boots before heading out into the hallway.

It was a bit disorienting at first. She wasn’t in the place where she normally slept, instead she stood in the house that had become the common area for all of the settlers. She must’ve been too woozy and injured to make it farther into the cul de sac. She turned to her left and spied Mama Murphy in the open living room, sitting in her specially crafted chair, feet dangling happily just a few inches from the ground.

“Hey kid,” she hollered, motioning for Charlie to come closer, and Charlie obliged, secretly hoping that her doped up insight would give more answers about where Shaun had been taken.

“Mornin’ Mama,” Charlie answered and made her tedious way over to the old woman and sat down on the sofa near her.

“The Sight,” Mama croned, “It’s shown me more about your boy, your sweet boy.”

Charlie winced, unsure if she wanted to know now, but leaned forward and took the old woman’s outstretched, weathered hand. “What is it,” she pleaded.

Just as Marcy said, Mama Murphy recited a prophecy about Diamond City, and people with chained up hearts refusing to provide Charlie with answers about her son’s whereabouts. With the exception of one. One heart that would lead her way, “so bright against the dark alleys it walks.” It didn’t make sense, but she’d never been to Diamond City, didn’t have enough information to even begin to decipher it.

“What does that mean,” she asked clumsily

Mama smiled, and shook her head. “Beats me, Kid. I only know what the Sight shows me. Maybe you get me some mentats, maybe I--”

“Now, Mama,” grumbled a familiar voice nearby, Charlie followed the old woman’s gaze to where it had been preemptively fixed on the door Sturges had just entered, face covered with smudges of oil, “You know Ms. Charlie’s not gonna fall for any of that nonsense.”

She shrugged. “Meh, you never know, Sturge. Seems like she wants to find her boy.”

“Not sure the boss would like it too much if he knew you were abusin’ her good graces,” Sturges scolded her playfully as he popped open a bottle of Nuka Cola, and sat the cap in a pile with others on the counter.

“Preston's not my boss,” Mama scoffed, and then turned back to Charlie, “He’s waiting for you though, kid.”

“Preston?” Charlie asked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. “Me? Why?

Mama and Sturges exchanged a glance before Sturges spoke up. “Don’t really know to be honest. He doesn’t really say much about how he’s feelin’, but he’s been worried ever since you left.”

“He sees your promise,” Mama chimed in, “He sees what I see.”

Even with the analgesic effects of a newly injected stimpak, walking the length of the neighborhood had proven to be a slow, awkward process for Charlie. Her leg was weak, throbbing, and numb, but at least it still worked. At least she was still alive.

The more time she had to think about her escapade at Corvega, the more she realized how she’d survived on nothing but pure, unadulterated luck. She’d seen it in Preston’s eyes the night before, his bewilderment that she’d managed to take down a raider gang of that size. She’d also seen his guilt, as if he intended to blame himself for something that had not happened. For all she knew of him, that was normal. Whatever had happened before she ran into him and the others in Concord really did a number on the guy.

Charlie heard him before she saw him, humming and making an effort to tune a two hundred year-old guitar. A smile twitched on her lips, heart warming at the sight of him sat on a rusty patio chair, surrounded by an audience of lawn flamingos. He had his hat off and laying on the table. In her two months of knowing him, she’d never seen him so relaxed.

“Your G’s a little sharp there Garvey,” she called out to him playfully as she made her way over and sat down in the chair across from him, propping her good leg up on the table. He didn’t flinch or show any other signs of surprise at her approach, and continued to fiddle with the guitar.

“I know,” he answered, tearing his eyes away from the instrument to look up at her, “I can’t get the damn thing to cooperate.”

“It is at least a couple of centuries old.”

He sat the guitar down and turned to face her more squarely. It was the first time she could remember getting a good look at him with his hat off. Objectively, of course, he was handsome, with soft features and a smile that he definitely knew how to use to his benefit. Preston was nice. He wasn’t naive. How could he have been, growing up in a world like the one she’d woken up in? The scar that ran from temple to cheekbone on the left side of his face was more prominent than it had seemed before, masked in shadows. It looked like an old wound, and she wondered how he’d gotten it.

“Well,” he said, amusement plain on his face, “Being a couple centuries old hasn’t stopped you.”

“It certainly tried,” she replied, ignoring the knots in her stomach and back of her mind telling her it might have been better if it had stopped her. “Damn near got the better of me at that plant.”

Preston nodded and let out a breath. “About that… how are you feeling?”

Charlie looked down at her injured leg and then back up at him. “Like shit,” she stated, “But I suppose that’s better than the alternative.”

“That’s for sure,” he said, sort of absentmindedly, gaze seeming unfocused and off in the distance. There was a long, heavy pause before he spoke again. “I don’t think I ever got around to saying thank you last night. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for us since Concord. Without your help...well, I’m not sure we would have made it.”

“I…”Charlie began, but trailed off, “You’re welcome, Preston.”

There was another pause and he leaned forward and grabbed his hat, tracing his fingers across the brim. “I know that I told you I’m one of the last Minutemen, but I don’t think I ever mentioned how it ended up that way.”

She shrugged. “I figured you would tell me when you were ready to talk about it.”

“I’ve started calling it the Quincy Massacre,” he said somberly.

“Quincy. That’s where you and the others are from, right?”

“That’s right,” he answered, “Sturges, Mama Murphy, and the Longs all lived in Quincy when the Minutemen got a call for help dealing with some Gunners who’d been scouting the area. I went with Colonel Hollis, my commanding officer at the time, and several others to answer the call. It all went downhill after that.”

Unsteadily, Preston opened up to her, explaining how his contingent had been the only to arrive, and their numbers were too few to handle an assault by the much more heavily armed Gunners. Colonel Hollis had called for help, only for a traitorous Minutemen veteran named Clint to show up and lead the Gunners right through the gates. Preston told her how he had to watch settlers and his own comrades die, helpless and running through the streets. He’d made a knee jerk decision to evacuate, and take as many survivors with him as he could along the way. Apparently, that wasn’t where the trouble had ended though. He and his group traveled for over a month without finding anywhere safe to settle, facing disaster after disaster until finally getting trapped up in the museum at Concord.

The story was heartbreaking, but to watch Preston tell it was even more so. Charlie could tell that he blamed himself for each and every loss that happened under his leadership. He wore his guilt all over his face.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said softly, “And I’m glad that I showed up when I did, although I really have no idea how I managed to do… all of that.”

“It’s almost like it’s fate... or something,” he muttered. His words were followed by an embarrassed laugh and a shake of his head as if he couldn’t believe his own mouth. “Sorry. I’ve been spending too much time around Mama.”

“Hey.” Charlie laughed, and slid her leg off the table, leaning forward to pat his shoulder reassuringly. “Hope’s addictive. Just like the chems.”

Preston sighed. “Damn it if that’s not the truth.”

“Also, I think the old loon might be onto something,” she added, tapping a finger to her temple, “The only reason I limped out to this end of the settlement to see you was because Mama said you wanted to talk to me, something about you seeing my promise?”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he said appearing genuinely surprised, as if Mama Murphy’s clairvoyance was something new, “She’s out here stealing all of my thunder.”

The way he looked at her, as if she held the entirety of his hope in her trembling hands, made her shift uncomfortably. The weight of Mama Murphy’s words now settled on her shoulders like a lead blanket. She had never been one to believe in coincidences, but it was hard to accept that any of this was her destiny.

She cleared her throat, attempting to be nonchalant. “So, what’s this promise of mine everyone is so certain of?”

“The Commonwealth desperately needs the Minutemen,” Preston explained, “Now more than ever, and I plan to rebuild them stronger and more organized, without all of the petty squabbles and infighting that have plagued our history.”

“Sounds like you just need to find a good leader,” Charlie remarked, feeling helpful.

Preston eyed her intently and she suddenly regretted her words. “Exactly,” he said with a grin.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she protested, waving her hands in front of her in a panic, “You’re not suggesting that I should lead the Minutemen, are you?”

“I am.”

“On what qualifications?” She was nearly shrieking. “I know next to nothing about the organization, it’s history. I can barely hold my own in a fight. I--”

“Charlie,” Preston remarked, rather directly, “The Minutemen aren’t an army. We’re citizen soldiers, people of the Commonwealth banded together to protect ourselves and decide our own futures. We fell apart because our leadership forgot what we stood for, but you could bring us back together, bring the whole Commonwealth together.”

“Why me?” Charlie was flattered at his faith in her but so confused. “Why not you, or anyone else?”

“You helped us at Concord and every day since, without anything in it for you,” he explained, “You had your own problems to deal with and you helped us anyway. Hell, you even won Marcy over. That kind of compassion and selflessness has been in short supply around here for a long time.”

“Preston, I am flattered by all of this, but I’m not sure I can take on that kind of responsibility right now.”

“Listen,” he said, offering her a reassuring smile, “If you really don’t feel like you’re up to it, I’m not going to twist your arm. I get that it’s hard to deal with other people’s problems when you’ve got your own.”

Charlie pondered for a moment, and asked, “What would I have to do?”

“Just what you’ve been doing,” he answered as if it were obvious as day, “Help people. Recruit. Spread hope. And I’ll be behind you every step of the way.”

She couldn’t deny that it was tempting. As much of a mess as she was herself, she was compelled to help others. If anything, it could give her something to focus on, a sense of purpose, a way to use her skill set. She brought her eyes up to meet his, chased away the nagging doubts in her head, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“As sure as I’ll ever be.”

“Well, the leader of the Minutemen has always held the title of General, and since I’m the last of the Minutemen, there’s no one here to argue with me when I say it belongs to you now.”

“So I’m General Smart now?” Charlie laughed at the complete absurdity of the situation. Leading a bunch of neo-colonials to resettle Massachusetts wasn’t exactly how she pictured her life turning out. “Does that mean I get a cute little hat?”

Preston returned her laughter, relief washing over his face at her decision. “If you want one, General, then absolutely.”

Perhaps her mother had been right all of those years ago. Maybe she really could change the world.

#preston garvey #fallout 4 #preston garvey x sole survivor #preston garvey x f!sole survivor #revolutionary #fanfic #my writing

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adarlingwrites · 4 years

Text

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XIV

December 28, 2277.

The inside of my mouth feels dry, and I feel like a brahmin trampled my head. What time is it?

Cracking one eye open, I see the top of Percy’s head nestled into my shoulder, her black hair ruffled, and I lean into her warmth, not wanting to get up. I wrapped an arm around her and settled there. Something soft and warm was pressing against my crotch and my eyes shot open.

I’m fully awake now, and I jolted out of the bed. Looking down, I saw that I’m only dressed in boxers, and Percy was wearing nothing but a scanty red nightgown, splayed on the bed and still soundly asleep.

What the hell happened last night?

Did I touch her?

Women bleed when they do it for the first time, right? Dogmeat whined and barked as I tossed the covers away, checking the mattress for blood.

Then I saw it, specks of red on the white sheets and blood staining her thighs. Fuck. This is not happening. This is not happening. She trusted me and I hurt her. No. No, no, no. No!

I stayed away from her as far as possible, sitting in the corner with my shotgun in my hand, breathing ragged. I feel betrayed by myself, for ruining the only good fucking thing I had in… centuries.

What have I done?

I sat there for fuck knows how long, numb.

Percy stirred awake, stretching her limbs out, complaining about being sore. She greeted me good morning but it barely even registers in my ears. Confused, she looks around, clutching her lower belly, and she locks eyes with me.

“Charon, what are you doing there?”

My lungs felt like they were filled with black smoke. I’m choking on my own spit. I tear my eyes away from her with haste. I feel them getting wet.

“Percy, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

I pointed at the blood on her person. Her eyes widened. If she asks me to eat a bullet, I’d do it.

There, I sat, waiting for judgment.

Waiting for the bomb to drop.

Waiting for the world to end all over again.

My memories of the old world dying came flooding in.

October 23, 2077.

The last nuclear siren was being sounded. I stood with the others, waiting for my next orders, but they never came. Each of us kept our contracts in our breast pocket. We thought we would be discharged the day we won Anchorage back in January. They took away our power armor, and sent us to California.

My home. If I had one to return to, anyway. It’s been seven years...

All of us thought our contracts were finally fulfilled. That we’ve paid for the sins of our fathers.

All of us were dead wrong.

Our contracts changed hands so many times, I cannot even remember all of their names. All I know is we were in charge of protecting influential people. Powerful people. People in the government. Governors. Senators. The President.

People who did not think twice before using us for their amusement. People who did not think twice before asking us to kill a political opponent. People who did not think twice before they ordered us to kill rioting protestors who demanded food while they dined on cube steak.

Cruel people.

Evil people.

Magwayen, our medic and the oldest operative, was sweating bullets, her expression haunted, while Xolotl sits on a rock, resignation in his eyes. Azrael was arguing with Vanth and Anubis, while Valkyrie sat beside me, her fingers tangled through her hair.

I was the only one who stood still.

“They won’t abandon us,” said Vanth. Beside her, Anubis nods, face grim. “They promised us that we’d be free of our contracts once every single one of the necessary personnel are in Control Station ENCLAVE. They promised us!”

“Face it Vanth, the military lied to us. Again. I swear to fucking God, you internalized all that bullshit they taught you,” Azrael yells back. “Look around you. Our superiors are nowhere to be found. We no longer have shock collars on our necks. Our contracts means jack shit. You stupid bitch, we should be taking shelter!”

“Don’t you trust the United States of America?! They said they will be here. They will be here!”

“Trust the USA? Trust the USA?! ” Magwayen finally screams, rabid. “Bullshit! They put us through hell just because someone we’re related to are suspected Reds. I don’t know how I managed to fake gobbling up their anti-commie crap just to avoid a beating, or worse, the fucking shock collar. I was nineteen when they started to torture me into being subservient. I thought that was bad, but look at Charon here! How old was he when he got brought to the facility? Eleven. You trust a government who would do that to a child? ”

“What the hell are you even trying to say, Mag?” Anubis cuts in.

“Don’t you get it? We’re disposable to them. They never treated us as people in the first place. They’ve milked us dry and now they’re tossing us away. I don’t know about you, but I’m not sticking around. I’m finally free of those miserable bastards and I-”

Before Magwayen can finish her rant, Vanth puts a bullet in her head. Mag’s body flops to the floor like a ragdoll. The shotgun blast tore through her skull, bone and mush strewn over the sand.

“What the hell was that for?!”

“You know our orders, Xolotl. Terminate anyone who would run away. If any of you tries to flee I will not hesitate to kill you!”

“This is nuts!”

My fellow operatives were killing each other, while I stood there, watching the mushroom cloud in the distance.

Beside me, Valkyrie is wailing as it grows. The debris was starting to fly towards us. In the corner of my eye, I see it. Valkyrie’s shoving the muzzle of her gun to the roof of her mouth. I don’t even know if I heard a gunshot or another explosion. Probably both.

My legs wanted to run away as I watched the cloud of debris approaching, but I felt the phantom pain of electricity shooting through my neck, tearing through my cheeks, and I stayed where I was. My pants are warm with blood and my own piss, eyes brimming with tears, as I watched the world end.

It was so bright.

Memories of all the crimes I’ve committed in the name of the United States of America bombards me as the heat tore my skin off my body.

I must be in hell and receiving the appropriate punishment.

Watching Percy’s blank expression, I feel like I’m being cooked alive by the heat again.

Waiting to be damned again. I have another sin I have to pay for.

“If you wish to terminate me for this violation, or have me terminate myself, I will gladly do so.”

Percy kneels in front of me.

“What are you talking about? Charon, you did nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong? What I did was worse than a violation of our contract. I’ve squandered the trust you put in me and-”

“No, I mean, you really did not do anything, big guy. I’m on my period, Jesus Christ. You didn’t stab me in your sleep.”

A cry I didn’t know I was holding back jumped from my lungs. I tossed my shotgun to the side, and put my arms around her.

“I know you can never hurt me, silly,” she laughed into my chest, muffled.

“I thought I raped you.”

Pulling away from me, Percy looks at me with a dumbfounded expression, which was quickly replaced with pity when she looks at my face. Her thumb wipes away the warm moisture under my eye.

I was crying?

Dammit.

“Oh God, Charon.”

Aside from me fucking crying, it registered to us that I was having another panic attack. We did the same thing we did when the Enclave landed in the memorial. The grounding techniques. The dog licked my face as we went through it. When my heart finally slows down, Percy sighs and takes my hands in hers.

“Charon, I don’t think you’re capable of such a thing.”

“Alcohol impairs judgment.”

“Alcohol isn’t an excuse to touch people without their consent. You’re either an abuser, or you’re not, with or without it.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t feel the need to.

“Look, I haven’t really opened up to anyone about this in detail, not even to Butch or Amata, but remember Stevie?”

I nod. I looked in her eyes and they were somber.

“He was drunk on duty when he caught me using my BB gun in the vault’s lower wards,” Percy almost whispers, voice breaking. “He said he needed to bring me to the vault’s precinct. I did what any scared 16-year old did. Comply.”

“Percy, you don’t have to recount your experiences to prove a point.”

“Let me do this, Charon. I want to do this.”

Sighing, I nod, and she drew closer to me.

“Stevie... he sodomized me,” Percy whispers. “He did it under the influence, and it happened multiple times over the course of months,” she continues, meeting my eyes. Swallowing my own spit felt like choking on stones as I listened to her.

“You didn’t. The fact that you feel terrified at the mere suspicion of doing it says a lot about you. You’re a good person,” my friend tells me, her small hand sliding up my cheek to comfort me.

“No. Percy, I am not. Remember when those bastards in Tenpenny Tower asked you why you were treating me like a person? You said that it was just the bare minimum. That’s just what I did. Bare minimum.”

“Fair,” Percy sighs. “But for what it’s worth? I feel you’re the person I can be piss-wasted vulnerable with. I trust you.”

Feeling the urge to bury my face in her hair, I asked for permission to come closer, and she nods. Inhaling sharply, I let the tears come.

“You put too much trust in me.”

“You’ve proven worthy of it.”

“Percy, I need to say something.”

This angel looks at me with those eyes again. I figured it out now, the emotions they carry. They were brimming with trust and devotion.

“Maybe the talk about the Enclave the night before triggered it, but what happened earlier pushed me over the edge. I had another recall.”

I pause to see if she’s still listening. She was doing so, intently. “Continue.”

“My mind went back to the day the bombs dropped. I was contemplating all the things I did under the Enclave’s employ. The bombs skinning me felt like an appropriate punishment. When I thought I hurt you, I felt like the world was ending all over again.”

Percy squeezes my hand.

“When I said that you were the best thing that happened in my life, I said that with full sincerity. I do not want to risk that in any shape or form. You are my employer, but you’ve treated me far more than a simple employee. I’m not sure...”

The words aren’t coming out.

“Yes?”

I wanted to ask her what the “love you” meant. Does she ever remember it?

She says that to the dog all the time. She can’t be serious. Still, a decrepit part of my mind wanted to bring it up.

Then my mind wanders to the jeers and insults people threw at my mistress for having my company. The dirty, judgmental looks. Their disgust. Surely that “love you” was a lapse in judgment, right?

I better not encourage it.

Perhaps one day I’ll ask her. But not today.

“Nevermind.”

I pull away from her and collect myself.

“You should clean up.”

Percy opened her mouth to say something, but a growl bubbled from her stomach. Blushing, she nods.

“Right. I should. Let’s get something to eat.”

As soon as we’re dressed, Percy curses when she sees the time on her Pip-Boy.

“Fuck, it’s already 2 PM. How long did we sleep?”

“12 hours tops.”

“Okay. Let’s get lunch at Gary’s Galley then hit the road. We need to find Lamplight.”

I raise a brow at her suggestion. “Are you sure we should travel while hungover?”

I follow Percy through the stairs. “There’s no time. We can’t risk the Enclave finding the GECK before we do.”

“If you insist.”

Lunch was mostly quiet. The food tasted bland in my mouth despite being well-seasoned. Percy was chewing on her third Mirelurk cake while I simmered in my own thoughts. Before we got out of the city, Percy entrusted Dogmeat to DeLoria, leaving him with caps and a copy of a key to her house in Megaton.

When we hit the road, I was still thinking about the “love you”, the incident from earlier, and what lies ahead for us. I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings.

That was a grave mistake.

When we approached Anacostia Crossing, they jumped us. The mercs. Talon Company. My senses were sharper than Percy’s and I didn’t sense their presence. I was caught off guard when one of the bastards threw a bag over my head.

Why did I ever allow myself to become this distracted? Goddamn idiot!

I hear it, Percy’s angry yells as one of the men dragged her into the station. I fired blindly at my assailant, but more of them came, beating my head with batons until I was fucking bloody.

My head spinning, they tied me up, and dragged us deeper into the metro. Then, we stopped. One of them forced me to kneel, then ripped the bag from my head.

“We did it boys! We finally caught the little saint from the vault and this ugly motherfucker,” one of them yells in triumph, and I can barely see Percy spitting in his face from the blood that soaked my left eye.

A yelp escapes her when the asshole backhands her, sending her glasses flying backward. “Let’s see if you’re still so feisty after that, bitch.”

Squinting, Percy looks up to him. “Fuck you.”

He hits her again. I was thrashing hard, unable to protect her. One of the Talon mercs whipped my head with the butt of a pistol and I landed hard on the gravel. The fucker squeezed my jaw while forcing me to get up and I bit him, hard enough to draw blood.

“Argh, fuck! The zombie bit me!”

“Put him down already!”

“Not yet. I wanna watch him suffer while we rough up his girlfriend.”

“Do not fucking touch her,” I growled.

“You know what? I have an idea,” said their ringleader. “Boys, time for some torture.”

I lunged forward, my skull colliding with the bastard’s cheek. Percy takes this opportunity to slip from one of the mercs’ grasp, but his hand caught her Pip-Boy glove.

My contract flies to the ground.

One of the mercs picked it up.

No.

#tw: whump #lone wanderer #female lone wanderer #charon #fallout charon #charon fallout #charon fallout 3 #fallout 3 charon #butch deloria #oc: percy zhou #fanfic: absolution #series: through river acheron #fallout 3 #fallout fanfic #writers on tumblr #tw: past non-con #tw: suicide by firearm

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years

Text

A Shorter Way to Save Her

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

"Maggie, you've really done it this time, are you kidding me!? Just tell me this is a prank...... Hey you, Curlicue, she's kidding right.......?"

Vic McQueen and Maggie Leigh shared a glance, the purple-haired girl fighting her smile, but the fabulously florescent Mags, wasn't fast enough to stifle her snort with a cough.

"Yeah, we get it, you're a real crack up, Barney Fife, the name's Vic, okay, try to remember it? And no she ain't lost it, we're asking you for a favour."

"You're ASKING me to run a NATIONWIDE APB on a missing person, with no physical description, no last seen, not a damn thing to go on, except a lousy first name. Do you have ANY idea how many Allyssa's there are in the world!? This gaffe of hilarious proportions must be your guys' idea of a bad joke, huh? Pull one over on Old Joe, is that it? 'Fess up, was it Koalski or Maguire, put you two up to this?

"Joe, relax, okay?" Maggie sighed trying to calm everybody down. "I know it sounds crazy, I know we're trying to make bricks without clay here, but this girl is in real trouble, and she needs our help! It had been a huge risk getting Joe involved, Maggie knew that, and as dangerous as it was tangling yet another person she cared about in Charlie Manx's twisted web, he'd helped them catch a huge break before with that Wraith part in Denver, and with no leads, and dwindling time, stopping Allyssa Jane Doe from becoming the dreaded Mrs. Manx, was going to take all the help they could get. They'd done all they could with the impossible. It was time to turn to more conventional methods, to a force neither of them had ever really understood. The real, the possible, the police.

"Joe, please...... We're not asking for a miracle here, just something, anything you can do. Shake a few trees, rattle some cages, just help us find her....... before he does."

"I knew this was about that damned Wraith!" Joe sighed, frustrated. You girls need to give this up. Go to the mall, go on dates, live your lives! You're too young to be chasing criminal kidnappers, and too old for ghost stories. Charlie Manx is a myth, Kids, he ain't real, he can't hurt you. There is no Christmasland. There is no Santa Claus."

Maggie could sense the anger rising, coming off of Vic McQueen in waves, and she reached for her but it was too late........ Vic lunged, slamming her fists on the desk, rattling it, her eyes screaming violence. "Not real? Huh, WHAT a relief, Joe, GOD, that's swell!!! That means my boyfriend ain't dead, he didn't burn up alive in that damned car!!! Hailey's safe in her bed at home, instead of at the mercy of some sicko cautionary tale, her mother's alive, her freaking cat's alive, and I'm NOT fighting for my life, my sanity, my whole damn mind!!!!" She fumed, her eyes bleeding with pain, as the skeptical Sheriff was struck silent by her outrage. "You listen to me, you condescending piece of SHIT!!! Charlie Manx is real, Charlie Manx is EVIL, like you ain't even ready for, and unless you want to spend the rest of your career, watching mothers lose their kids, chasing your tail, because you can't wrap your head around anyone REAL being this damned effed up, you are going to help us get this girl, and save her from a hell, she ain't never coming back from........"

Joe stared Vic in the eyes, his expression hard, leaning over the desk, and in that moment Vic McQueen didn't care if she got arrested, she was so damn sick of Charlie getting away with actual murder, disappearing into a haze of obscurity, being written off as a Grimm Fairytale. Somebody had to SEE him, even if she had to make them see him. The devil was real, and he drove a 1938 Rolls Royce Wraith........

Vic didn't even flinch, glaring back at Joe, as he slammed a thick, red binder onto the desktop, never taking his eyes from hers, rifling through the laminated pages, and finally she glanced down at the whirl of pictures. "Do you know how many Missing Persons I have right now, just in the state of Massachusetts?" He asked, his voice low, emotionless, watching Vic's rage crack, as she shook her wildly curly head. "Ninety-two...... That's ninety-two mothers crying over their children, that's ninety-two people that ain't never coming home. How about the entire US, huh? Try, fifteen thousand, two hundred, and seven active cases. All of them, every one, with a full name, physical description, last seen, known associates, and still just as lost, as the mysterious name you pulled out of a hat. You want my help? Reach into your bag of tricks, there, and get me more information."

"Vic, can I talk to you a sec?" Maggie asked, calmly, and Vic reluctantly relented, scowling, as Maggie ushered her out of Joe's bland, depressing office, into the bustling police station.

"WHAT the HELL was that!?" Maggie asked furiously, clutching the purple velvet of her scrabble bag, raising her arms emphatically. "What part of, hey let's ask my friend, THE SHERIFF, for help, translated into you assaulting an officer!? Are you CRAZY!? We have a window here, Vic, a window that is about to be slammed shut in our faces!!! We don't have time for this troubled teen, fight the man, bullshit!!!!"

"This was a mistake, Maggie, I told you this was a mistake!!!! He thinks we're both freaking cracked, he doesn't believe Manx is real, let alone a threat, and he doesn't give a damn about this girl. Okay, yeah, maybe I got a little crazy in there, but somebody has to, Mags! One Manx has made my life a freaking Stephen King novel, okay, a She-Manx helping him grab up all these kids, that's only going to make things a hundred times worse!!! We gotta stop him, and we gotta do it now. I know I should know better, but have you tried asking the bag her last name?

Maggie's jaw clenched, her soft features hardening and she shook the bag in Vic's face clearly insulted. "Only about a THOUSAND times!!! Are you serious!? Do YOU want to try it!? Go ahead, be my guest, hell, keep it, if you think you can do better, but I just keep getting the SAME four letters over and over, and over. SPOILER ALERT, it's MANX!!!"

The silence spread between them, the lack of sound dispelling the anger, police officers passing by, shuffling papers, answering phones, trying to look busy as they tried not to wonder what had caught these two girls, and the Boss in such a stir. If they only knew........

"Mags...... hey, Maggie, I'm sorry, I get my mouth from my Ma, and I'm at the edge here, feelin' pretty desperate. Manx has taken everything from me, turned me into a damn basket case, I probably should have just stayed in that asylum, okay, because I don't even know what is real anymore....... But if I can save her, if I can stop him from doing the same, maybe even worse to this innocent girl, I gotta give it all I got......"

Maggie sighed, lowering her arm, and the bag, giving Vic a small, apologetic smile. "You're really living up to your name today, Brat, you know that, right?" She teased, and Vic smiled too, her eyes lighter, less intense. "Of course, I forgive you, Jerk, and I don't blame you, okay? We're both a little tense right now, and GOD, if we don't have every right to be!!!! There hasn't been a Manx sighting in months, couple that with being sleep-deprived from the night terrors, creatively spent from the search, add one crazy cryptic, terrifying message, it's a wonder we're not both in that creepy ass asylum!"

Vic snickered, still smiling. "Charlie Manx, making chicks crazy since 1885."

Maggie laughed, with a clever eyebrow raise. "You know it. C'mon, let's go back in, and at least try to play nice this time? I don't have enough money for your bail, today, Curlicue." She laughed again, playfully punching Vic's shoulder, as she turned her back around, towards the door. "Who knows, maybe your Dirty Harry moment inspired Poor Old Joe. We'll find a way to draw Manx out, and once he's proven to be flesh and bone instead of whispers and smoke, he won't be able to hide behind the guise of folklore anymore. The Bride of Chuck- I mean Charlie," Maggie snickered, "Might be just what we've been waiting for to take him down."

Vic stopped cold, her smile fading, snapping her chewing gum, as her eyes sharpened with razor focus. Holy Shit....... She grabbed Maggie's arm in a mad panic, her eyes widening. "Bride........" She whispered in barely a sound, her grip tightening. "That's it...... Mags, that's FREAKING it....... We got him."

Maggie cocked her head warily, confused, and more than a little freaked. "What's it? How do we have-? Vic are you, okay? Is it happening again, are you having another vision? Here........" She nervously looked around, hurrying Vic to a far corner, putting her arm around her defensively, her voice trailing off, as life in the police station continued to happen all around them, arrests, police investigations, parking tickets, all so mundane, while time itself had stopped dead for Vic McQueen.

Vic's smile returned, gripping Maggie's arm, her dark eyes crazed. "That son of a BITCH!!! Maggie, we did it, YOU did it! Don't you see? Our guy Charlie's getting married, and as much as I hate sayin' it, I know that SICKO, and if he's getting himself hitched, you can be sure as hell, he's gonna do it right. It's gotta take, it's gotta be legal, meaning........."

The colour drained from Maggie's mocha skin, her eyes wide with a wonderful, horrible realization. "Oh my GOD....... A license....... A M-Marriage License. We did it....... He just screwed himself, because we've got a name, an a-age, you can't be legally married unless you're......"

"Eighteen," Vic breathed, the gears in her head on overdrive. "She's gotta be at least eighteen, and somethin' tells me, that bastard Manx likes 'em young."

"Okay, think, let's estimate an age range here, let's say, eighteen to twenty-five. Maggie shook her head, tucking a stray violet curl behind her ear. "That cocky Christmas-Loving IDIOT, actually filed for a real world marriage license. Jane Austen wasn't kidding........ "We are all FOOLS in love........." We have got to tell Joe!!!!"

Vic nodded enthused, her grin smug, both of them, rushing back into Joe's office side by side, and Maggie, smacked right into him, as he cursed loudly and a lot, just barely able to recover the fumble on his piping hot cup of coffee.

"DAMN IT, MARGARET!!!!! Give it a rest, will ya!? I can't help you, okay? And you, I'd be really nice to me right now, Annie, I lock up little girls that get mouthy with cops."

"Sun'll come out tomorrow, Joe, but one more crack about my hair and my mean right hook's comin' out today."

"Joe! First off, don't be creepy it really doesn't work for you, and second, I need you to go through all of the Marriage Licenses from this month, every single state, that has the name Allyssa on them!!!!"

Joe stared back blankly, more confused than ever, slightly slack-jawed. "I'm sorry, did you just say........ Marriage License? What the hell- first this kid's kidnapped, and now she's getting married, well, which is it!?"

"Both, Joe, if Manx gets his way!" Vic snapped back, rushing behind Joe's desk to fire up the computer, pressing buttons.

"Hey! Knock it off! You ARE trouble, that's State Property, don't touch that!"

"I wouldn't have to, if you'd do your job, Officer, now how about gettin' on that database, huh? I'll say please if you want, or y'know other magic words."

Joe sank down, frustrated, in his office chair, eying Vic suspiciously. "I don't like this one, Maggie, she's a bad seed. Hey, I type your name in, Shirley Temple, any arrests come up?"

"Oh sure," Vic quipped back, her voice rife with sarcasm, leaning down to look at the screen. "Just the ones of my drunk old man, beating up on my white trash, batshit crazy mother, Go ahead, take a look."

Joe shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as Vic swiveled to smile at him, sardonic. Thought that might shut ya up, Mayberry.

"Right........ Is that Allyssa with one, "L" or two?" Joe asked firmly, typing furiously, deciding to actively ignore her snark for Maggie's sake.

"Two, "L's," and two, "S's," She shot back, still smiling. These guys were all the same. You take one look at me, and you see juvie stamped on my forehead, don't ya? I ain't the bad guy, here, but I'm sure gonna catch him.

Joe frowned, leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing at the screen, the name looking strange, all spelled out.

"You sure about that? That's a pretty.......... creative spelling........"

The word hit like a sledge hammer, shattering Vic's smile, the ice spreading through her body, crystallizing in her veins, as she shared an uneasy look with Maggie, both of them paralyzed by one singular thought, caught off guard by Joe's tragic word choice.

"Holy Hell........" Vic whispered under her quickened breath, so that Joe couldn't hear, her words frozen over with the fear that Maggie's expression was right now fighting hard. "Mags....... She's one of us........"

Maggie shook her head vehemently, purple curls dangling, banishing the thought, shooting a wary glance at Joe, to make sure he wasn't listening in. "We don't know that, Vic....... Don't go there. She could just be something shiny that caught Manx's eye."

"Yes we do!" Vic hissed back, insistent. "Think about it........ If I'm the most damned powerful Strong Creative in the whole freaking universe, would I go through all the trouble of yanking some Plain Jane, non-creative, nobody into my demon car, or would I make it count...... go after somebody with power, somebody worth taking and keeping, in that special, legally binding kind of way. There's a reason he wants her, Mags, and something tells me it's not just for her pretty face."

"No, no........ oh my god......." Maggie breathed, the icy chill infecting her next. She bit her lip, almost scared to say it out loud. "She's one of us....... She has to be....... A Strong Creative with a brand new power for Manx to exploit." She squeezed her eyes shut against the sinister possibilities. "Could this possibly get any worse!?

"Ladies, I really think you got the name wrong here," Joe called over his shoulder, oblivious to the reverberating revelation. "I don't see ANY Allyssa's from this month, not one "L," two "L's," or three. Nada. Maybe the Mary Poppins prop is past its expiration date, huh Mags?" Joe mused, chuckling. "You see, if I'm this incarnation of all evil, King of my cursed Christmas whatever, and I was wanting a woman, I don't think I'd go through all the trouble of filing a legal document. I'd just grab the little lady, and go!"

Vic walked coolly, over to him, her arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes defiant. "Look again, Joe."

"What? Did you hear what I just-?"

"I said, look again. You don't know this Joker like I do, okay, he's not your everyday, zip ties, and ski mask, ransom-seeking hoodlum, this guy......" Vic's voice got quieter, and she swallowed hard with disgust. "He's method. He knew her, he followed her home at night, watched her fall asleep. He manipulated his way into her life, got her to trust him, and then he took her....... All that time, all that effort, watching her from windows, he'd make sure there was no way out, a failsafe, a legally binding tie. Go back three months.

Joe's expression was grave, and he nodded with a solemn intensity, the chill in the air positively paranormal. Maggie reached out to grab Vic's hand, looking at her with sad, thoughtful eyes, not saying a word.

"It could have been me," Vic whispered, with a shiver, her voice strained, trying not to break with her emotion. "He told me I belonged there with him, that he was gonna ride high into Christmas Hell with me at his side, and make me those kids' mother, that I had disappointed them, some shit about not being pure. That Craig- Craig had ruined me. He couldn't take a Bad Girl to Christmasland, so here we are. Enter Plan B......."

"We're GOING to get this guy, Vic," Maggie whispered, fierce and determined. "His Plan B is going to mean his Final Destination, I promise. She's the key, this mystery girl is going to be the reason Charlie Effing Manx goes under, and never touches another soul. You sent that Son of a Bitch to hell once, Brat, and together, we can do it again."

"Holy SHIT........" Joe stared incredulous at the screen, rolling his chair slowly backward, blinking his eyes, but the impossible did not disappear, and he raised his finger, transfixed. "Holy Sh- Charles Talent Manx, and Allyssa Jolene Watkins. Filed three months ago, on July 5th 2019......."

A hush drowned the room, the silence deathly, and Vic groaned, annoyed. "You've gotta be FREAKING kidding me!!!! Charles TALENT Manx!? His middle name is literally TALENT!? God, I'm never going to hear the end of that one........."

Joe ignored Vic's outburst, his stare still fixed, thoroughly disturbed. "Bastard used his real name, and everything........ How did- How did you know?"

He turned slowly to Vic, and she gave him a sad, sort of smirk. "I told you......... Manx has been haunting my dreams, taunting me, taking, and torturing me for as long as I can remember. His madness has poisoned my mind, and he's going to do the same damn thing to her, but even worse, because he's going after her heart. He's going to wither it from the inside, until it looks like his, ruin her for anyone else. No loopholes, no escape, and she's going to become a fixture of that god-forsaken place. It's going to happen........ just like he's got planned. Unless somebody finds a Shorter Way to save her."

Maggie felt her body seized with the intruding fear, the biting phrase, landing like a slap to the face. "Vic! Vic NO, listen to me, it's TOO dangerous!!! It almost KILLED you last time, you can't! I won't let you do it! It's not going to take you to Christmasland, and if you use it....... He'll know."

"Good," Vic shot back, with a raised chin. "I want him to know it's me! Me comin' to steal back Christmas, comin' to break up this damn wedding. Consider it my RSVP! She seethed, railing against Maggie's impassioned protest. "Craig didn't DIE for me, so I could do nothin', Maggie, this is my shot to fix it, to do what I couldn't do before, and use my inscape to freaking save somebody, instead of wasting it, finding loose change. It may not take me direct, but it'll take me to where she lived, and why he took her. I'll get to know this chick, find out who she is, what she can do. He doesn't get to win, Maggie, not this time."

"If you think I'm letting you do this alone, you really should be committed," Maggie answered back, fire in her eyes. "If you're going to break up the happy day, and go blind in the process, because you're too damn stubborn, I'm coming with you."

"Mags, you can't! You know what happened to Craig when he tried to follow me over, it's too dangerous, this is my atonement, not yours, got it?"

Maggie swung her scrabble bag, back and forth, as it dangled by its purple string. "Look at this, Vic....... Do you think I was blessed or cursed with this bag, to pass the time with the world's most BORING game!? I can help you! You don't ALWAYS have to rev up your engine, and tear off on your own!!! Finding people, saving people, that us, that's you and me. Our purpose. Together....... And unless there's something you're not telling me, Craig wasn't a Strong Creative! I am! It let you bring me once, you have to at least try again!"

Vic gritted her teeth, hating that Maggie was always right. Here's to the girl, left holding the bag....... "You've got all the answers, don't ya?"

"Uh yeah, in the bag." Maggie smiled, her brown eyes luminous. "Are we doing this or what?"

"Fine, Mags, you can come. But remember, my inscape, my rules. Your eye starts bleeding, your stutter gets worse, or any other pay to play shit, and we're done. I mean it."

"Deal," Maggie smiled brightly, and then her eyes flickered, the light burning out, her features somber, wondering if Vic had been so distracted by Charlie's revealed middle name that she hadn't noticed something even more worrying about the other......

"Jolene," She said sadly, watching as Vic's eyes threatened tears. "Her middle name is Jolene."

"Yeah, I-I noticed......" Vic said softly, wiping at the corner of her welling eye with her thumb, taking a deep breath. "No way in HELL is that a coincidence........."

"Damn this guy knows what he's doing," Joe huffed, slamming keys on his computer. No driver's license on record, every picture on file, magically disappeared. It's like this girl......... doesn't even exist........"

Vic nodded, gritting her teeth again. "He's good....... But I'm better. In his twisted mind, Allyssa belongs to him now, to Christmasland, meaning he's got to get rid of any evidence she existed outside of his inscape. He may be immortal, but he's not infallible. He's going to miss something, slip up, just once, and I'm going to be the one to catch it. He's going to make sure she's got nothin' to come back to....... and I'm going to make sure she'd rather die, than stay.

#nos4a2 #charlie manx #charlie manx x oc #christmasland #joe bly #vic mcqueen #maggie leigh #paranormal romance #paradise for the lost

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cuthian · 4 years

Text

Becoming a Memory, Becoming a Treasure Chapter Six

Hi all!

I couldn't leave you hanging too long with that cliffhanger. This is, for now, the last chapter.

I have one more "prequel" of sorts that I want to write, about how Alex and Reggie actually ended up fooling around, but other than that I don't have anything planned just yet.

Please, do let me know if there are things you'd like to see in this universe though, and I'll definitely consider writing them!

Lots of love Annaelle

SIX

“I May Not Have Gone Where I Intended To Go, But I Think I Have Ended Up Where I Needed To Be.”

—Douglas Adams

ALEX

Alex prided himself on being the levelheaded one.

Luke was the impulsive one, the proud one, who ran into things headfirst with no consideration for circumstances or consequences whatsoever—unless it concerned the band—and Reggie just went through life without thinking too hard about anything.

Alex couldn’t help but think too hard about literally everything, but even he hadn’t seen this coming.

“What do you mean,” he said shakily, blindly reaching out behind him until he found Reggie—too few rings on his fingers to be Luke—, who took his hand and squeezed it so hard it nearly hurt.

Maggie looked between them with wide eyes, swallowing thickly before she said, not looking away from them, “T’Nia, can you take Reg? I think she needs her diaper changed.”

T’Nia nodded wordlessly and took the baby, turning to Julie with a small smile. “Can you show me the bathroom, please? And I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee, if that offer for a drink still stands.” Alex tried to smile at Julie when she looked at them, but he wasn’t sure if it came across right.

“Sure,” Julie said. “Let’s go.”

Maggie folded her arms around herself and heaved another heavy sigh. “Okay,” she began, chewing on her lower lip. “Okay. Uh… What do you… what do you remember, exactly?”

“Just,” Reggie choked, “Just getting sick, and… the ambulance.”

Alex nodded shakily but didn’t say what he knew Luke was remembering too. Reggie had been the first to—to go. Alex remembered, hazily, turning his head to look at the others and finding Reggie throwing up blood, paler than he had ever seen him, his eyes rolling back into his head and then a lot of shouting—

He was pretty sure he’d heard one of the paramedics say, horrified, “Jesus, there’s nothing we can do—he’s bleeding out on the inside,” before he had passed out and then floated out of his body too.

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve known that it hadn’t been just food poisoning.

“Right,” Maggie said faintly. “Okay. Well. You’re not entirely wrong.” She looked down briefly and Alex had a bad feeling about this whole thing. “I found out all of this,” Maggie continued, “when I was in my twenties. I looked up court records, police reports, autopsy results… I didn’t know, when I was younger. Our parents… well, they weren’t exactly concerned with keeping up to date with what happened to you.”

Alex squeezed Reggie’s hand, because he didn’t need to be looking at him to know that this would hit him hard. Even though he and his dad had parted on really shitty terms after he’d caught Alex and Reggie kissing—they really hadn’t been as sneaky as they’d thought—Reggie had always held out hope he’d be able to go home someday.

“You can say it,” Reggie said hoarsely. “That they hated me.”

Maggie’s expression crumpled. “They didn’t. I mean,” she shook her head and exhaled shakily. “Dad was an absolute miserable asshole, but I still think he hated himself more than he ever hated you or me. And mom…”

“…was a drug addict and a drunk,” Reggie whispered, Alex winced a little.

They’d all known, really. Reggie’s parents had insane, violent arguments about money, Reggie and Maggie, work and their drinking habits nearly every day, and when they weren’t fighting, they were drinking or smoking, together or separately.

Even before he and Alex had started fooling around, Reggie had spent a fair few nights sleeping at Alex’s house to get away from the constant shouting.

“Yeah,” Maggie sighed. “Yeah.”

“So what did you find out?” Alex asked, scooting his chair a little closer to the other boys.

“You were killed,” Maggie admitted, and Alex inhaled sharply as Reggie squeezed his hand hard. “The man who did it, he’s in prison. He got life, without parole for your murder. He tried to claim insanity, say that ghosts made him do it, but…” she shrugged. “It was pretty clear that it was premeditated.”

“What?” Luke choked faintly.

“The man that sold you the hot dogs,” Maggie elaborated. “He confessed. He spiked everything with sulfuric acid.” Alex blinked in confusion, and he supposed the other two must’ve as well because Maggie immediately added, “Car battery acid. He dipped everything, from the hotdogs to the condiments, even the buns, in it. He didn’t kill anyone else, he must’ve changed the containers when you guys—”

“He was putting out fresh stuff,” Luke said suddenly. “When we got there, he was putting out new containers, he said—he said it was a busy night.”

“That’s why he wasn’t concerned when I spilled pickle juice on his battery cables,” Alex murmured, staring off into the distance as he tried to… tried to understand. They’d been going to that specific street dog cart for ages, they’d known the guy by name—

“Why would he—” Alex choked. “What did we—”

“I don’t know,” Maggie said softly. “He never gave a reason beyond ‘ghosts made me do it’.”

Alex felt like throwing up all over again, and when he looked at Reggie and Luke, he could tell they felt the same. It’d been one thing when it’d been their own bad luck that’d gotten them killed—being murdered though… by someone they’d known…

“You read my autopsy report?” Reggie asked quietly, looking at his sister with an expression that bordered somewhere between horrified and confused, and yeah—

Yeah, that was easier to focus on.

“You said you’d seen our bodies too,” he piped in, ignoring Reggie’s horrified gasp. “When I talked to you… after the restaurant, you said—”

“Yeah,” Maggie sighed. “Yeah, I did. When we got the call—mom was… She had to go identify you. And Alex.” Alex startled, and Maggie shot a small, pained smile at him. “Your parents wouldn’t—they said they didn’t have a son, so they asked mine and Luke’s parents. Mom… Mom couldn’t really handle it. They wouldn’t let me in at first, but she insisted, so I—I saw.”

“God,” Luke choked and Alex let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, tears rolling down his cheeks. He’d known his parents weren’t okay with the band, with him being gay, with… with him, but he hadn’t thought they’d blatantly refuse to acknowledge him.

“Mags,” Reggie started, but Maggie shook her head sharply.

“Look,” she said, “I’ve gone through a lot of therapy. It’s not okay, but… I’ve dealt with it.”

Alex swallowed thickly and looked away, refocusing his attention on his and Reggie’s hands, on the way their fingers looked all tangled together, on the difference between their hands, because this whole thing was threatening to overwhelm him and to pace, he’d have to let go of Reggie and Luke and he didn’t think that’d help him at all.

“You’re buried together,” Maggie said then, and Alex looked up at her with tears still burning in his eyes. Maggie smiled a tremulous smile at him and said, “Luke’s parents arranged it all. Your dad even helped me get out of school so I could attend the funeral,” she told Luke with a small smile.

“He did?” Luke rasped. “They—they buried us together?”

“Yeah,” Maggie nodded. “There were so many people. I don’t remember… a lot, but I remember standing up front with your mom and dad, and… I just… I couldn’t see the end of the crowd.” She smiled through her tears and added, “They played all your favorite songs, and there were pictures of the three of you everywhere.”

“Oh,” Luke choked, and Alex kind of broke. He slipped out of the chair and shoved Reggie and Luke over just a little so he could squeeze onto the beanbag with them. Luke immediately slung an arm around him and Reggie turned to bury his face in Alex’s shoulder instead, clutching at Alex’s shirt with a desperate grip, and Alex exhaled shakily, hiding his own tears in Reggie’s hair, clutching at his two friends as desperately as they clutched back.

When he finally looked up again, a minute, ten minutes, an hour, a year later, Maggie was crying too, watching them with her hands pressed to her lips, grief and heartbreak all too easy to read on her face.

“Your mom,” she whispered when she realized he was watching, “visits every year. Twice. Once on your birthday and once on the day you died. She paid Luke’s parents back for the funeral. I don’t think she—she loves you, Alex. I thought you should know that.”

Alex felt much like she’d grabbed inside his chest and squeezed his heart, but he managed a choked, “Thank you,” before he buried his back in Reggie’s hair.

---------

REGGIE

It took them a while to stop crying, although Reggie didn’t mind being sandwiched between his two favorite people so very much, even if he’d have preferred a happier, less teary occasion.

“Thank you for telling us,” he told Maggie hoarsely, sitting up as much as he could with both Luke and Alex half on top of him. Maggie nodded at him with a small, pained smile on her face, arms still wrapped around herself, and suddenly Reggie couldn’t stand being this far away from her.

“Guys, get off me,” he told Alex and Luke, tapping Alex’s hip—the nearest part of him that he could reach—and elbowing Luke in the side. “Let go.”

He got to his feet as gracefully as he could manage and told his sister—his little sister, who’d gone through her entire life without him, who’d grown into a woman with a wife and a daughter and an amazing job without him—“I’m going to hug you. And I’m probably gonna cry again, so no judgement, okay?”

Maggie snorted a laugh but nodded nonetheless and got to her feet to, looping her arms around Reggie’s neck as soon as he was within reach, holding him so tight that if he still needed to breathe, he’d probably be choking, but as it was, he hugged her back just tightly. “I missed you so much,” Maggie whispered, her voice a little muffled against Reggie’s shoulder, and Reggie could barely keep from falling to pieces right then and there.

“Me too, Mags,” he choked, tightening his arms around her. “I’m so proud of you.”

Maggie let out a soft sob at that, and Reggie regretted saying it immediately—he hadn’t meant to make her cry—he wasn’t even sure what had made him say the words in the first place.

“Thank you,” Maggie told him in a hushed whisper. “I love you, Reg.”

A few tears rolled down his cheeks, and he felt warmer and stronger, just like he had when Julie had told him and the others that she loved them, and he squeezed his sister tighter. “I love you too, Mags.”

They broke apart when the garage door opened and Julie and T’Nia walked in. Reggie wiped at his eyes and smiled a little when he saw his boyfriend and his best friend surreptitiously do the same from the corner of his eye.

Maggie smiled too.

“So,” she said, her voice just barely trembling. “Do you wanna hold your niece?”

Reggie nodded jerkily, although he probably looked just as freaked out as he felt—what if he dropped her?—and the others chuckled at him. Luke and Alex came to stand next to him as T’Nia walked over with his niece cradled in her arms, and for the first time since he’d died, Reggie felt that everything might actually turn out okay.

THE END.

FOR NOW.

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

For everyone who wants to cry with me over their shared grave.

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

Start from the beginning:

Unfinished Business:

(1) (2) (3)

Becoming a Memory, Becoming a Treasure:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Or read it HERE (BaMBaT) or HERE (UB) on AO3 :D

#jatp #jatp ruke #luke/reggie #Luke patterson #reggie #Alex #julie molina #julie and the himbos #Julie and the phantoms #BaMBaT

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Sixteen

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.

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.

Time Will Take It’s Toll

Inhaling a breath had her coughing into her arm for a few moments and clearing her throat. The explosion had knocked the wind out of her, and her lungs were still complaining about it. Her leg was starting to ache from all the running and how she’d fallen, too.

She’d managed to slip away from the men shortly after they realised the explosion hadn’t killed her, scattering to try and find where she’d gone. She’d just sat there for a little while, regaining control of her breathing, of her pounding heart, then got up and run.

He’s been looking for me.

Sniffing and lifting her head, Ada let Mags walk idly down the main and only street of Van Horn. It was, as always, quiet. A couple of men sat on the porch outside a shop, talking and smoking. A man lay by the water, sat up against a rock, asleep.

Sadie waved to her from outside the bar, her mustard coloured shirt acting like a beacon amongst the dark and dinginess of the town, and Ada raised her hand in greeting.

“You okay?” the older woman asked as she approached, gently pulling Mags to a stop.

“Yeah. Some idiot thought playing with dynamite would be fun, though.”

“Yeah, I heard. Was gonna come back to see if you were alive but I thought you’d be fine.”

Ada laughed, inclining her head. “Yeah, well, I seem to be. Think I’ve got some dust in my chest but what’s new.”

Sadie nodded her head in the direction of the saloon doors. “Want to get a drink?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Here, are you kidding me?”

Sadie smiled as she pushed her hat onto her head and mounted her horse. “Thought you might say that.”

“Hey, hey, wait a second!”

The two women turned to the calling voice, Ada stiffening, Sadie arching an eyebrow. A man narrowed his eyes at them, his hands on his hips as he stood from the bench where he’d been talking with another man.

“Yeah?” Sadie answered.

“That’s my horse!”

Ada answered this time, relieved. “No, it isn’t.”

“Yeah, it is,” the man insisted, his voice cracking. “That’s Louisa!”

“No, it ain’t,” Sadie drawled.

“Yes, it is, now you give her back, you damn wh—”

The women settled their hands on their guns.

The man froze, glanced at the weapons, then smiled quickly.

“Y-yeah, I guess not, sorry, my eyes ain’t so good,” he laughed nervously, lowering back down onto the bench.

“That’s all right, friend, no harm done,” Ada called cheerily, realising faintly that Arthur had said nearly those exact words several times.

Well, look at me.

Sadie chuckled as they rode out of the tiny town, shaking her head. “I love people sometimes.”

Ada snorted. “All right, I feel a little bad.”

“Don’t. He called her Louisa, that’s reason enough for him not to have her.”

“What do you have against the name Louisa?”

“Nothin’, just a dumb name for a horse.”

—

Charles came back for them all an hour or so after she and Sadie returned, safe and fine, and he reassured her so was Arthur.

Ada dismounted Mags, stroking the horse’s neck gently as her eyes scanned their new home. Well... The new camp would have to do, no matter what she thought, and she thought it wasn’t much of a home anymore. She’d arrived a little behind the others, just in case they’d been followed, so they’d had some time to set up but... It seemed no one had taken the care they used to in doing so. Tents and tables were set up but nothing more, the wagons hadn’t been unpacked properly and she couldn’t place that down to lack of time or people as everyone was either sat or lying down.

They expect to move on soon, she realised, very soon.

Her gaze found Arthur’s as she approached where he had been talking with Dutch, and he moved towards her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she answered, smiling at the sight of him. He’d shaved, thank God.

“Not much, is it?” He’d clearly had the same thoughts.

“It’ll do, I suppose.” Her arms wrapped around his waist as his went around her, holding her close.

“Are you okay?” she murmured, her fingers stroking his back.

“Yeah. You were righ’, they’re strange folks, those Murfrees.”

She snorted. “You’re damn right.”

A corner of his mouth twisted up before he lowered his head and captured her lips in a kiss she knew they both needed. It lingered, deepening as his arms tightened around her. She smiled against his lips, half-heartedly trying to draw her head back.

“Arthur...”

“Lot of caves down there, lots of secret passages...”

She arched an eyebrow as his lips went to her cheek, unable to stop a smile. “If you think I’m gonna be able to relax in those caves after what Charles told me...”

“I can make you forget all that, though...”

“Stop it...” she laughed, trying to turn her head away from his sinful lips even as her stomach tightened at the thought. It had been so long since they’d been alone, all she’d had when he was away was thoughts and memories and—

“Hey.”

They both stiffened, their heads lifting as Arthur automatically half-turned his back to shield her.

Molly, Christ, Molly, came stumbling down the path. If she hadn’t clearly been drunk Ada would have thought she'd spent the last few weeks living in luxury with her skin and clothes being clean and neat and her hair perfect.

“So, Dutch!” she called out, “Did ye miss me?!” She stumbled closer to them, Dutch only a few feet away. Ada glanced at him, finding his features stony.

“I found her, drunk in Saint Denis,” Uncle was explaining somewhat apologetically, trying to keep up with her.

“You’re back. How jolly, Miss O’Shea,” Dutch retorted sarcastically, stepping closer.

“It’s ‘Molly’, you sack of shit!” she cried, rage pouring out of her.

“Back and drunk.”

“Who made you the master, the Lord Almighty!”

“Molly, calm down,” he demanded as she waved her arms around.

The gang had gathered now, everyone staring and not knowing what to do, Ada included. She felt Arthur beside her, silent and tense.

“I won’t be ignored, Dutch van der Linde! I hear all ye conversations! I hear all ye whisperin’! But I won’t be ignored! I aren’t him!” She pointed at Bill. “Thick as shit but would probably turn ye over in a heartbeat!” She turned, swaying, and pointed at Mary-Beth who looked so distraught. “I ain’t her! Ye’re little whore!” Then, she turned to Ada, pointing at her. “And I ain’t her, ye bloody O’Driscoll, thinkin’ ye’re holy than thou!”

Ada felt her heart drop into her stomach as she stared at her, a terrified coldness sweeping over her body. Molly just turned to Dutch. “I ain’t any of your stooges!”

“Calm yourself, miss!” Dutch was angry now, truly angry.

“You don’t owe me nothin’!” She was squaring up to him now. “I don’t owe you nothin’! Nothin’! Even though I did all ye’re dirty work!”

“Okay, okay,” he said, suddenly trying to calm her as much as himself, probably.

She wasn’t having it as she turned away. “I’d spit in yer eye!” Then, she turned back, pointing at him and looking as if something just suddenly came to her. “I did! I told them!” she shouted.

The mood shifted very sharply.

“I’m sorry?” Dutch hissed, staring at her.

“Yeah, I told ‘em! And I’d tell ‘em again! Now I’ve got God’s ear!”

“You told who what?” he demanded, thunderous.

“Mr Milton and Mr Ross,” she practically trilled, waving her hand, “about the bank robbery, and I wanted them to kill ye!” She thrust her finger at him.

Something inside Ada twisted sharply.

It wasn’t her fault. Because of Molly, Lenny and Hosea had died and John had been captured... She wanted to yell at her, to kick and scratch and scream, but... she just couldn’t bring herself to hate her. She pitied her too much.

Dutch, though...

“You did what?!” He drew his gun with an anger she had never seen before, and aimed it at Molly.

“I loved you, you God damn bastard!” she shouted, tears pouring down her cheeks. “Go on, shoot me!”

Ada heard Arthur murmuring to Dutch, a hand on his shoulder, but she couldn’t look, couldn’t look away from Molly.

“She’s crazy,” Arthur was saying quietly, trying to push Dutch’s gun down, “She ain’t worth it.”

“You told on me?! You betrayed me?!” Dutch was shouting but Molly was barely listening, staring at him and talking over him, elated, “Oh, you’re not so big now, are ye?”

“Quiet!” Arthur commanded her before murmuring to Dutch, “Just calm down.”

Dutch’s gaze darted to him.

“She’s a fool,” Arthur continued, nodding slightly, “Get her outta here.”

Dutch stared at him, then thundered, to him or Molly she didn’t know, “You know the rules.”

“Oh, not so big now!” Molly was still going on, nearly screaming, “Are we, your majesty?!”

“You—”

A gunshot rang out, a bullet tearing through Molly’s stomach.

"Damn!” Bill cried as people gasped and Ada’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, holding in her cry as they all watched a dark redness blossom across Molly’s white blouse.

Susan stepped forward, gripping a shotgun, as Molly collapsed, dead, and Ada could hear Mary-Beth sobbing.

Oh my God.

“She knew the rules, Arthur,” Susan hissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?” She turned sharply. “Mr Pearson, Mr Williamson, get this body outta here and get it burnt! Now get back to work, all of ya!”

As they all moved instantly, startled into it, in her peripheral vision she saw Dutch turn to her, so slowly it was almost like a dream. Lowering her hands, knowing they were shaking, she met his gaze.

He looked at her.

Oh, God, Molly, I’m so sorry.

"She never liked me,” she heard herself saying. She had no idea how she kept her composure, how her voice didn’t shake, how she sounded so sad and calm and casual at the same time.

Maybe because her life was on the fucking line.

She stared at him as he looked at her.

A lifetime seemed to pass, then he nodded and turned away, moving towards his tent. Arthur was looking at her, but he didn’t say anything, just turned sharply on his heel and strode after Dutch, spitting out curses.

She felt sick. She felt cold and hot and angry and sad and helpless and useless.

Folding her arms, her hands gripping her biceps to hide her shaking hands, Ada watched as Bill and Pearson carried Molly’s body away. They were going to burn her. She felt tears stinging at her eyes. Because of her they’d died. And she’d called her an O’Driscoll? Where the fuck had that come from? Her mind should have been racing, she should have been relieved Molly hadn’t been made to elaborate, but...

Despite what she’d done, she couldn’t hate her, she couldn’t...

Molly, I’m so sorry.

“Hey, honey.”

She stiffened. Micah, who had been so quiet these past couple of months, who had barely said a word to her, who had seemed so disinterested, smiled as he approached her.

“What do you want.”

He laughed, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. “So abrupt. I can’t just say hello?”

“What do you want, Micah.”

“Nothin’.” His smile lingered. “Just wanted to ask how your day was goin’, that’s all.”

“It was fine.” She didn’t like that he continued to smile, even as he followed the direction of her gaze, watching Bill and Pearson.

“Yeah, big mess, ain’t it.”

She didn’t say a word.

“Well.” His hands clapping together made her jump, her nails digging into her biceps. “I expect things will sort themselves out soon.” He grinned. “Hope your day gets better, darlin’.”

He wandered away, humming to himself as he headed for the main fire, Charles and Uncle sat before it, silent, staring into the flames. Her gaze lifted from them and... she saw Karen, looking at her, her brow furrowed slightly. She quickly looked away as Ada met her gaze. Starting to tremble, Ada turned and saw Tilly... sat against a tree, crying, looking at her. She, too, looked away.

Oh, my God... It’s in their minds... Whether they believe it or not, it’s in their minds...

She felt like she was going to faint. Lifting her gaze again, she found Arthur striding towards her, his features tight. Lowering her arms as he approached, she didn’t have a chance to speak as his hand settled on her back and pushed her into a walk with him.

“C’mon, we’re goin’ out.”

“Where?” she asked, so relieved, moving towards Mags.

“I don’t know, huntin’ or somethin’,” he muttered, mounting Ophelia. “Need some God damn space from here.”

She pulled herself up into Mags’s saddle, and met Javier’s gaze. He just looked at her. He didn’t look away. Turning Mags around, she pressed her lips together as she and Arthur rode out of camp, clicking her tongue to urge Mags into a trot so she could take the lead.

“I know a place.”

Arthur just grunted in response, and she let silence fall, letting him work through what he needed to, and, God, she just couldn’t talk anymore. They pressed on into a canter, both eager to get away from what had once been home.

—

The crumbling sign on the wooden archway had faintly read ‘Willard’s Rest’.

Arthur could see no Willard, though.

And he was damn fucking happy for it.

The cabin was empty, though furniture still remained in the three rooms that made it up; a bed in two of the rooms, one large, one small, a table and chairs in the main room along with empty cabinets. It was fairly clean, a slight layer of dust, but otherwise fine. It was probably too far out for most travellers, and maybe too hidden, too, the trees giving good coverage at the front, the cliff at the back.

“How’d you find this place?” he asked, removing his gloves and dropping them on to the table as he returned from his perusing of the rooms to see if they were clear.

“Sadie and I came here once when we went out hunting, when we were hiding at Lakay.” Ada hissed softly as she rose, her leg stiff, having just about managed to light a fire in the hearth opposite the table. A light rain had started as they’d arrived and she was absolutely not going to spend the night in a freezing cabin.

“Mmh. This is quite a way from there.” Arthur took a seat as she stood by the fire, warming her hands.

“We just started riding and didn’t stop.” She smiled slightly. “Think we just wanted space, too.”

He nodded, stretching his legs out as his gaze roamed the room again. “This is nice. Seems like someone just moved out.”

“That’s what Sadie and I thought.”

He looked to her as she rubbed her arms and leaned against the wall. “You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured.

He could see she was shaking, and he didn’t think it was from the rain.

Inhaling a breath, Ada shrugged. “I don’t... I don’t know. I haven’t been... able to feel anything for the last few weeks and I’m afraid if I do, I... And what just happened, it...” She exhaled a faint, shaking laugh.

“I get it,” he murmured, guilt twisting at his heart again.

Silence lingered as she took another trembling breath, exhaled it, then paused again. Finally, she smiled slightly, her gaze holding his. “I’m so glad you came back. I’m so happy, very happy.”

He couldn’t help but match her smile even as the knife of guilt continued to twist. “Me, too.”

She licked her lips. “It... It was very hard without you, for me.”

She could feel the tears forming again, clouding her vision slightly, but she tried so hard to suppress them. If she started, she didn’t know if she would ever be able to stop.

Arthur saw it, though, and he couldn’t bear it. Rising, he moved towards her. “Hey, c’mere.”

She released another quiet, useless laugh as she straightened. “Oh no, please don’t, I don’t think I can...”

His hands went to her waist, pulling her into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around her. He felt her stiffen slightly, her arms at her sides.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair, his cheek resting atop her head.

After a few, silent moments, her hands lifted, gripping his jacket at his back. He felt it, then, her silent sobs as she held on to him, her tears wetting his shirt.

“It’s okay...” he murmured again, just holding her as she cried.

He didn’t care to recognise how long he held her for, how long she cried. He’d have done it forever, if that’s what she needed. It tore at his heart, her sobs, the burdens and fears and anxieties she was releasing with every jagged breath. He knew it would have done no good to tell her that he should have been there, he shouldn’t have left, that they should have left, run away, gone west, gone north, gone anywhere away from all of this, this crumbling society. He knew no apologies would atone for any of it. So, finally, after a lifetime, as her cries softened, he whispered one of the two things he had faith in.

“I ain’t goin’ away again, darlin’, not without you.”

“You can’t promise me that, Arthur,” she murmured, the words muffled against his chest.

“I know.” His hands caressed her back gently. “But I’m gonna do my damn best.”

Her shoulders shuddered and he thought she might dissolve into sobs again, but she inhaled a quiet breath and lifted her head. She looked at him then, holding his gaze, as if she could find the real answer, the truth, within his eyes. He didn’t know what she found but she raised her hands and wiped at her face, her palms resting over her eyes as she released a long breath. Then, her features seemed to crumble again.

“Oh, God, Molly...”

The tears came again as he held her, his heart breaking again.

“I just can’t believe she just... And how did she know...”

“She could have been lyin’,” he murmured, “Seemed to me she was just sayin’ shit about people, wanted to hurt ‘em.”

He felt her shaking her head, managing to speak through her tears as she raised her head to look at him. “I don’t think so, Arthur... Hosea knew.”

“What?”

She sniffed, taking a breath. “When Sadie and I went back to Shady Belle, a week or two after it all happened, she let me check all the rooms just in case any of you had come by and left something. I checked Hosea’s room and by his bed in a drawer was a newspaper.” She swallowed hard. “The newspaper that had me in it, the description of me and the article about my uncle looking for me.” Fresh tears began to fall. “He was an intelligent man. There’s no way he wouldn’t have figured it all out and...” Her voice broke as she continued, “and he didn’t say anything. He gave no... no indication, no hint that he knew, he just... carried on treating me the same. God’s sake...” She closed her eyes, weeping. “I wish I’d told everyone now. Not at the beginning but at some point.” She looked up at him. “Whatever had to happen would have happened. I’d like to think I would have been able to argue my case and I’d have been left alone, accepted.”

Arthur exhaled a breath as he wiped her tears away. Truthfully, he had no idea what would have happened... but...

"I’d have had your back,” he murmured, “and Sadie, Sean, Lenny, John, Abigail, and Hosea, and the girls... we know what kind of person you are.”

Her chin was trembling. “But Dutch—”

“I can’t speak for Dutch, but...” He cupped her cheek. “... we’d have been there for you.”

“I don’t know, Arthur...” She shook her head. “... I saw some of them looking at me as we left, I... I don’t know.”

“Whether they believe it or not, they know what kind of a person you are,” he repeated gently. “You did so much for ‘em while we were away. They know that. They’ll just be upset and their minds scrambled ‘cause of Molly.”

“And what a fucking mess,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I just feel so sorry for her.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know...” And he couldn’t think what else to say. He was just as sad, just as enraged. No matter the rules that wasn’t how it should have gone down. She had been drunk, out of her mind, and while he couldn’t think why she would lie about being the one to betray them, she’d seemed to have revelled in revealing it, actually, she still should have been allowed to sober up, say her piece, say why, and then they could have decided what to do... and he hoped it wouldn’t have been to fucking kill her. Molly was Molly, lazy, entitled, sour, but... she hadn’t deserved an end like that, despite what she’d done.

Then again, a small, angry, exhausted, desperately sad part of him whispered that she had. Hosea, one of the greatest men he’d ever known, the man who had practically raised him, had died in a street, bleeding out in the gutter. Lenny, the future of the gang, a kind, funny, lively boy, had died running from a situation he shouldn’t have even been in.

He just held her tighter in his embrace, knowing they both needed it. She held on to him, taking in quiet, ragged breaths as the last of her sobs faded away.

Gentle rain pattered against the roof, and he faintly hoped there wouldn’t be any leaks.

“I’ll cook us somethin’, all righ’?” he murmured, against her hair a few minutes later, his thumbs gently stroking her back. “There’s some tins of somethin’ in my saddlebag, that should do.”

She nodded, and drew her head back as she exhaled a breath, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips. “That sounds good.”

“Good.”

His heart ached and he couldn’t release her just yet so he bowed his head and kissed her. It was soft, gentle, meant to comfort her and silently reinforce his vow of staying with her. Her hands slid up his back, though, gripping at him again but in a decidedly more urgent manner, and he relinquished to her as she deepened the kiss.

I’ll go in a minute, he thought as an arm tightened around her waist and his other hand settled on the back of her neck. In a minute.

Then she moaned quietly against his lips, her tongue brushing against them.

He knew, he knew if it didn’t stop now then it wouldn’t later.

Her hands were at his jacket, pushing it off of his shoulders and he helped her, throwing it to the side and immediately returning his hands to her, holding her by the waist and pulling her closer.

They needed each other.

Her fingers undid the bandanna she’d returned to him from around his neck, moving to unbutton his shirt before it had even touched the ground. Knowing they both needed a breath, he pulled his lips from hers and brought them to her neck, kissing a trail down the soft column of her throat and back up, teasing along her jawline. She exhaled a moan, her fingers splaying across his bare chest as his shirt fell open, her head tipping back, her eyes closed.

One hand pulled her blouse free from where it was tucked into her trousers, his fingers tracing along her stomach and she gasped softly, probably would have jerked away involuntarily if his arm around her lower back hadn’t kept her tight against him.

Ada could feel his cock hardening against her thigh and she pushed against him, drawing a groan from him that had her shoving his shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms. He helped her again, his hands off of her for the briefest of moments before they were returning, gripping at her back and ass, pulling her as tight against him as possible. She was kissing along his shoulder, kissing at where his scar was, her teeth grazing over his skin with every one, and it drove him insane.

God, he wanted to feel her everywhere.

“Bedroom...” she breathed against his neck, as if hearing his thoughts, “... One with the bigger bed.”

“Obviously...” he groaned into her jaw, biting at it gently as she nipped at his skin in return with a moaned, “Shut up...”

Grunting with impatience, he turned them, pushing her backwards towards the bedroom with his arms remaining tight around her. If either of them stumbled a little they barely registered it, and his arm only moved from her to dart out and grip at the doorjamb so she wouldn’t knock into it. He was surprised he’d reacted in time, her fingers dancing along the waistband of his trousers and unbuttoning them thoroughly distracting.

Stumbling into the room, her back did knock against a chest of drawers, making her hiss in surprise, but it was swiftly replaced by a gasp as he turned her and her back now collided with a wall. Leaning her head back against it so she could see what she was doing, she went to push her hand into his open trousers when his knee pushed between her legs, his thigh pressing against her covered cunt. Inhaling a sharp breath, her hands gripped at his biceps as he braced a hand against the wall.

“Fuck...” he groaned as she rocked against his thigh, her eyes closed and her lips parted. “... I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes...” she breathed, her hand moving to the back of his neck. Opening her eyes, her tongue darted out over her lips. “Touch me, Arthur, please...”

His hand instantly dropped from her hip and tugged the buttons of her trousers undone. Then his hand was inside, his fingers sliding over her cunt and spreading her wet lips. She couldn’t and didn’t care to stop herself from crying out, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Oh, Christ, Arthur...” She had to trail off with a breathy moan as his middle finger glided up her slit and circled her sensitive bud, making her hips buck.

She was wet already for him, enough so that he could press two fingers into her easily. His lips went to her neck as he instantly began to pump them, his other hand pulling her shirt open a little wider, hearing a button or two collide with the wooden floor but neither of them cared. His half-biting, open-mouthed kisses moved down to her throat and chest, and he growled against her skin as her slick walls fluttered around his fingers and her beautiful moans sounded against his ear.

“Fuck, Arthur...” she breathed out, and he could feel her nearing her release already, so wound up and ready for him, ready for the bliss he could give her.

“Come for me,” he commanded, kissing under her jaw so he could gravel into her ear, “Get my hand wet, sweetheart, let me feel you...”

Just his words alone had her clenching around his fingers, and his thumb pressed against her aching clit, rubbing in a firm circle. He wanted to see her face but he couldn’t tear his mouth from her skin, so the only warning he had was her sharp inhale, a very short silence, and then she was crying out through gritted teeth as her nails sank into his skin. He could feel her wetness around his fingers, beads of it sliding down his palm and his cock was so, so painfully hard.

As she rode the last waves of her pleasure, barely coming down, he pulled his hand away and slid his arm around her back, pulling her away from the wall. Her eyes snapping open, the next thing she knew, he’d turned them and was pushing her backwards once more. Her calves met the iron frame of the bed and she fell back, him following, her back colliding now with the soft mattress. Neither cared about the state of the bedsheets, a little musty but better than the blankets they’d had at Lakay, and their lips met instantly. It was a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongue and harsh breaths. His body covered hers and she couldn’t stop herself from focusing on his cock pressing down against her.

“I want you inside me...” she breathed against his lips before she could stop herself, rocking her hips up against him. “... I want to feel you inside me...”

And he paused. Lifting his head, he met her gaze, both their lips parted, chests rising and falling swiftly.

She thought he was going to say no or pull away, thought she’d pushed her luck... when he nodded, his thumb on her waist where her blouse had ridden up caressing gently.

“Yes,” he gravelled, then his lips were back on her but at her neck this time, biting and sucking a path down and her cry of relief was lost in her moan of delight as he licked at her nipple through her blouse and thin, cotton corset.

“Off, get it off...” she heard herself demanding breathlessly, and then his hands were pulling her blouse off, pulling it apart, actually, buttons dropping onto the mattress but she didn’t care.

Arching her back and moving her arms to help him remove it, she then kept it arched as his hands went underneath her, trying to unlace the corset.

It was nowhere near as complicated as the corset she had worn for the Mayor’s party but he still hissed out curses in frustration. Her lips twitching, she was about to tease him when he rose up on his knees, gripped her waist, and turned her over swiftly.

Exhaling a sharp breath as she suddenly found herself on her front, her hands gripping the sheets, she barely had time to react as his hand aggressively tugged at the fastenings and his other pushed her hair aside so he could mouth at her neck and shoulder. Her eyes fell shut as she hummed at the delicious sensation, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, and, with his straining cock digging into her ass, she couldn’t stop herself from rocking back against him.

He growled and swatted at her ass lightly, drawing a gasp from her.

“Can’t concentrate if you do that, woman...” he muttered into her neck and she gave a wide, breathless smirk.

“Can’t do two things at once? Poor baby...”

“You know I can, sweetheart.”

The fastenings finally undone, he tugged the corset apart and pushed her over onto her back again. Arching an eyebrow at him, even as a flush spread across her cheeks and neck, she huffed out, “Are you going to keep throwing me around?”

A corner of his mouth rose higher than the other. “Only if you keep likin’ it. Arms above your head.”

She obeyed immediately, her teeth biting at her lower lip again to try and hide a smile, unsuccessfully, though, if his own smirk was anything to go by. He pushed the corset up and over her head, letting it drop to the floor, and then he was on her again, kissing at her jaw, throat, going down, down, down, until he was at her nipples, bare for him now and hard. He sucked and licked at one, and as she moaned, the sound low in her throat, she was about to sink her fingers into his hair when his were suddenly lacing with hers, keeping them above her head. All she could do was arch her back and roll her hips, mewls and soft curses falling from her lips as he did as he pleased, moving from one breast to the other.

She was about to curse at him, her already very intense need growing, when he released her hands and moved down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach like a starving man until he was shifting off of the bed, lowering to his knees on the floor. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, her curls sliding over her shoulders, not wanting to take her eyes off of him, and watched him pull her boots off before his hands were at the waistband of her trousers, tugging them down. Ada raised her hips to help him, and even as he was still pulling them down her calves his lips were on her thighs, placing gentle, hungry kisses along them, pausing only to press a gentle, lingering one to the new, pink scar. Tossing the trousers aside once they were off, his hands curved around her knees, pulling them wider apart as his mouth moved up to her wet cunt.

She barely had time to take in a breath before he was licking and sucking at her soaking folds. Her mouth dropping open, her head tipped back and a low moan escaped her.

“Holy God...” she breathed, one of her hands moving to his hair, finally able to tangle her fingers in.

It was a little longer now, so she could easily sink them in and pull and tug, her nails gliding against his scalp. He groaned against her pussy with every tug she gave, his hands sliding over her hips, settling on her stomach. Dragging her teeth over her lower lip as hummed moans left her, she opened her eyes looked down at him, instantly meeting his gaze. He released a sound akin to a growl as their eyes locked and the flat of his tongue slid up her slit, watching her brow dip as she moaned loudly.

“Taste so fuckin’ good...” he groaned against her, and the vibration of his voice had her hips bucking, his hands on her stomach instantly pressing down.

One of them then slid up to pull and roll her nipple, and her elbow supporting her gave out as her other hand flew to his hair at his tongue circling her clit.

Her breaths were becoming shorter and sharper and she wanted to roll her hips but he wasn’t having it, his arm lying across her stomach now. He was driving her insane, his tongue dipping into her before coming back to lap at her clit and it was both perfect and not enough.

The sound she released, close to a whine, had him arching an eyebrow, and she could feel his smirk.

“Somethin’ you want, Ada?”

Her breathing hitched at both feeling his voice again, and his tone. “Come on, Arthur...”

“Oh, I don’t know what to do, sweetheart...” he rumbled as he drew his head back, his hand moving down from her nipple. “... wanna keep tastin’ you, been dreamin’ about this, but also wanna feel you come again...”

Her response, whatever it would be, even she didn’t know, died on her tongue as he slid two fingers inside her and stroked them. Crying out, her head tipped back and she pulled at his hair, pushing her hips against him.

“Oh, fuck, God, Arthur, oh, fuck...” She was almost babbling, so close, so fucking close to the edge again and and his words and fingers had only driven her there further.

He could feel her slick walls starting to flutter around him, and he groaned, kissing and sucking at her clit. “... Think I’ll be nice and make you come again...”

She breathed out a sound of relief, her gaze darting down to him as her moans became louder and higher. She tried to keep her eyes on his, but as his fingers and tongue stroked at her, only a few moments later she threw her head back and cried out, her hips rising off the bed.

“That’s it, that’s it, let me taste you...” he mumbled, scissoring his fingers slightly against her tightening walls.

She was almost pushing against his head, pushing him further against her, and he wasn’t about to complain. Lapping her up, he slid his fingers out so he could collect all of her wetness on his tongue, gliding it up her slit. When he reached her clit, her hips jerked, sensitive, and she then started to push his head away.

Chuckling lowly, he obeyed and softly kissed along her thigh as her hands fell to her sides, her eyes closed. Breathing hard, small, hummed moans left her every few moments, and when he reached her knee, he then gently lowered her legs and pushed himself up.

The sound of his boots coming off made her eyelids flutter open, and she gazed up at him, meeting his gaze. Then, a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and he was about to return it when she pushed herself up and settled her hands on his hips. Her legs widened so he was essentially standing between them, and she gazed up at him as she pressed a soft kiss above the trail of hair on his lower stomach.

A slightly hissed breath escaped him, and one of her hands slid to the open front of his trousers.

“Can I touch you?” she murmured against his skin, pressing another kiss, and he realised she was giving him the option to stop this.

And then he realised he could let her touch him now.

Because he’d said yes.

And he wanted this, wanted her.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice almost hoarse with need.

The slow smile that spread across her lips had him wanting to taste her yet again, but he restrained himself as her hand slid into his trousers and her fingers wrapped around his hard, straining cock. His eyes fell shut with a groan as she pulled him out, and she’d remembered what he’d said because her hand left him briefly and when it returned it was wet and, God, it was heaven...

His hand found the side of her neck, cupping it, and his thumb brushed against her jaw gently as she moved her hand up and down his length.

Then her tongue was on the weeping head of his cock.

Clenching his jaw tightly as she gave small, light licks, he knew he couldn’t open his eyes because he’d just come right there.

Ada gazed up at him, watching the muscles in his jaw move, feeling his fingers flex and tighten against her neck, though she didn’t mind at all. Her other hand pulled his trousers down a little further, and the feel of her nails against his thigh seemed to bring him back into the room as his eyes snapped open.

She was about to murmur something coy when he gently pushed her hands away and shoved his trousers down to the floor, kicking the garment aside.

“Lie back,” he murmured, and she did so instantly, shifting backwards and lying on the bed.

He placed a knee on the bed and leaned over her, supporting himself with a hand by her head. He was about to speak, to tell her how beautiful she looked, when her hands cupped his face and drew him down, claiming his lips in a firm kiss. His whole body lowered against her, an arm sliding under her as the other settled above her head. He could feel all of her, all of her soft skin against him, feel how wet she was against his thigh.

“Ada...” he mumbled against her lips, and she hummed in reply, hooking a leg over his hip, opening up to him.

Christ...

Breaking the kiss gently, he drew his head back and gazed down at her. Her eyes opened a moment later, and she smiled softly, slightly breathlessly.

“What is it?” she murmured as her fingers caressed his hair.

Licking his lips, his thumb above her head stroked at one of her curls. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked quietly, now giving her the opportunity to stop.

The backs of her fingers brushed against his cheek as she nodded without hesitation, her teeth grazing over her plump lower lip. “I am.”

He nodded, and lust surged within him once more because she wanted him and there was his fire in her eyes and so he kissed her fiercely.

She reacted instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she released a soft sound against his lips. Shifting between her legs slightly, his arm moved out from under her and he gripped his cock, guiding the tip to her entrance.

Fuck, feeling how wet she was...

“I ain’t gonna last long,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss and meeting her gaze. “Been some time.”

She nodded and swallowed lightly. “That’s okay.”

“It might... It’s gonna hurt a little, so I’ll go slow.”

Ada nodded again, her fingertips pressing into his shoulders. “Okay.”

He nodded, licked his dry lips, then pushed the head of his cock into her.

Oh, fuck...

Oh, Christ, he wasn’t going to last long at all.

Even with just the tip he could feel how warm and tight she was.

He had to force himself to keep his eyes open because he wanted to watch her reactions, wanted to see if he might be causing any really bad pain.

And, oh, fuck, looking at her...

She was holding his gaze, her lips parted, her skin flushed, a gentle sound coming from the back of her throat. He pushed in a little further and she winced just slightly but it was accompanied by a small moan. So he kept pushing, gently, slowly, watching her and trying not to think about how fucking good she felt.

After what felt like a thousand lifetimes, he finally sheathed himself inside her.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from closing.

Lowering his face, it pressed into the crook of her neck as he hissed out breaths through his teeth. He could feel her nails digging into his skin and he focused on that because, fuck, he wasn’t going to come yet.

Ada, in turn, was staring at the ceiling, her lips still parted, every breath leaving her almost a moan... and she was trying so hard to not move because she knew, from how damn tense he was, he was trying to do the same.

It had hurt a little, but after a few moments, after she’d adjusted, it felt... incredible. The long, hard length of him fit her perfectly, and being filled by him, being stretched... A new wave of warmth settled in her lower stomach and he must have felt it in some way because he hissed out a short breath, his hands gripping at the sheets.

How long had it been for him? she thought, her fingertips brushing against his skin in the lightest of touches.

Licking her lips as he stiffened, she then tilted her head down a fraction and brushed her lips against his skin as her hips gave the smallest of rolls.

His hand darted down and gripped her hip, but not firm enough to stop her, so she did it again, then again, then again until she was rocking up against him. She could feel each of his breaths on her skin, laboured and short.

He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be buried inside her forever, and he didn’t want to come because then it would be over and—

She moaned against his ear.

It was the softest of sounds, and it broke something inside of him.

Gritting his teeth, his hand slid from her hip to her thigh, and he held her leg in position around him. Then, he started to move his hips, drawing them back and thrusting inside her in a slow, drawn out movement.

He could feel all of her, every inch of her warm wetness, and she could feel every inch of him, her head tipping back as she cried out softly.

Each sound she made only spurred him on, making his movements quicken until he was thrusting hard and fast and she was moaning and gripping at him and he wasn’t going to last, he wasn’t going to last...

She heard him grunt something out, and it took her a moment to respond herself, one hand gripping at his hair.

“Hm?”

“... Gonna come...” came the tight reply, and it sent the most delicious of thrills through her.

He was going to withdraw, was going to spill his seed on her stomach, when her legs tightened around him, holding him against her, and he let her, all thought of consequences leaving his mind. Breathing hard into her neck, one hand gripped her thigh tightly as his other tangled in the sheets above her head, and he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt each time, and she was so warm and wet and tight and she was moaning his name and—

Gritting his teeth, his hips drew back, then he thrust into her once more, burying himself deep within her, and his body went taut as he froze and his release finally came.

Low, breathless groans fell from his lips as his hips jerked, and her mouth dropped open as a rush of breath escaped her, her arms tight around him, feeling him release inside her. Her slick walls fluttered around him in response and it just prolonged his heaven-sent pleasure, and he couldn’t think, all he could do was feel, his mind blank.

He didn’t know how long he lay there on top of her, still, his face pressed against her neck, softening cock buried inside her, exhaling harsh, short breaths. It took him a little while to realise her finger tips were gently stroking against his back, and it wasn’t until she shifted just slightly that he realised he must be crushing her, and so he lifted his head and pushed himself up with a mumbled, “Shit, sorry...”

She was smiling, though, as he met her gaze, the most tender of smiles he’d ever seen. Exhaling another breath, a smile pulled at his own lips and he cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin.

He bowed his head and claimed that smile, kissing her softly. Her hand settled on the back of his head as she returned the kiss with a quiet hum.

“Sorry, it’ll be better next time...” he murmured when the kiss broke, still a little breathless.

“That wasn’t good?” she answered, arching an eyebrow as her smile returned.

“No, no, I mean for you, it’ll be better—”

Her kiss silenced him, her arms wrapping around his neck and drawing him back down against her. He gave in, an arm sliding underneath her and holding her tight against him.

“Shut up, Arthur Morgan,” she murmured against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied just as quietly, his lips brushing over hers.

Her smile was there again when he drew his head back. “... Next time, did you say?”

“In-satiable...”

She laughed as he pushed himself up with a shake of his head, the sound drawing off with a slight hiss and a wince as he slowly pulled out of her. Licking her lips, her hands went to her stomach as he moved off of her and settled on his back with a contented sigh. Then, before she knew it, his arm was going around her and pulling her against him. Turning on her side, one of her legs draped over his as she curled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

Gazing up at him, she found his eyes had closed, but his fingers traced light and lazy patterns on her arm. A soft smile danced across her lips... but something had resurfaced in her mind; a question that had been playing on her mind since he’d left.

“Arthur...?”

“Mmh...” His eyes remained closed for a moment longer before he looked down at her, arching an eyebrow.

Licking her lips again, she took a slight breath. “... Why were you so reluctant to do this with me?”

His gaze held hers, his jaw moving just slightly. “I ain’t... I ain’t been with someone in some time.”

“So... you were nervous?” she asked gently, her hand resting on his chest.

“No, I, well, a little, but it weren’t about that, I...” He cleared his throat after a moment as he sat up carefully, giving her room to shift from under his arm, and he leaned back against the headboard.

She stayed silent, watching him as she leaned up onto her elbow.

He looked down at his hands, rubbing his thumb across one and cleared his throat again before looking up at her. “Ada, I... There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you for a while. I’m sorry I ain’t said it sooner, but... I had a kid.”

Her lips parted as her eyebrows rose. “What?”

He took a breath, his mouth moving slightly. “... Years ago, when I was younger, there was a woman called Eliza, and we... we liked each other a lot and slept together and... And Isaac came along. I couldn’t stay with ‘em, not with this life, but I sent money and would visit whenever I could.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “He was a good kid. And, then, ah...” The smile vanished as soon as it had come. “... Then I went to visit one time and when I got there... house was empty, two graves outside. They’d been robbed and shot. It was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through in my life and I just stopped... feelin’. Hardened me.” He glanced up at her. “I think you can understand that.”

A corner of her mouth lifted, her eyes shining.

He swallowed, exhaled a breath. “Then I met Mary and I started to feel again, but, it weren’t righ’. That’s why it was so hard for me to really let her go. I thought she was my only chance at somethin’ really good.” He looked at her again. “I ended it with her, you know. Called it all to an end when I went and saw her that day.”

“You did?” she said quietly, her chest tightening slightly.

“Yeah. Was time for one of us to do it. I didn’t love her that way anymore, either, I need you to know that.”

She opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t need to tell her, but he preempted it and raised his hand slightly, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Wait a second, let me finish... I hadn’t really loved her for some time, not properly. I’ll always be fond of her, she was an important part of my life but, I didn’t, I don’t think I ever did, actually, love her.” He paused, then murmured the second thing he had absolute faith in. “... I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone like I love you.”

Her heart stopped.

Gazing at him, her lips parted, she could feel tears starting to prick at her eyes again. “... You love me?”

“Yeah.” A corner of his mouth twisted up. “Done what I can to stop it, but... it’s just as stubborn as you are.”

Her eyes shining again, she pressed her lips together to stop her lower one from trembling. Swallowing hard, after a few moments, moments that seemed like an eternity to him, she nodded and smiled softly.

“Well... I love you, too, Arthur Morgan.”

His eyebrows lifted, his chest tightening slightly. “You do?”

She nodded, a tear dripping down her cheek as she blinked, her smile lingering. “Yeah. Tried to stop it, too, but... just keeps following me around, wherever I go, like you.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound of it slightly thick from the emotion settling in his throat. “Well... that’s good, then.”

“Yeah.”

After a moment, she sniffed then pushed herself up and moved towards him, and he leaned towards her and his hands cupped her face as hers settled on his chest and they kissed, lingering and tender.

I love you.

When he finally released her, her head settled on his shoulder and his arms went around her, fingers lightly stroking her skin.

They lay in silence, allowing their words to linger in the air.

Her eyes were closed, a smile on her lips, her heart beating a little faster.

I love you.

It had felt like the most natural thing in the world to say. No ceremony, no floods of tears, no hesitation, just saying it and meaning it.

I love you.

She felt him shift slightly, adjusting his shoulders against the headboard. Whatever was going to happen tomorrow, the day after, the rest of her life, she was going to be with him, loved and safe, and she was going to do anything to keep it that way.

She had a hundred questions to ask, about Isaac, about Eliza, about his life back then but... They could wait. Despite the years that stretched between now and those events, she could sense there was a rawness still there, a grief that hadn’t ended, and she could understand it all too well.

“Mmh, anythin’ happen with the O’Driscoll camp, by the way?” he murmured after a few more quiet minutes.

“Oh, yeah...” She shifted a little, her eyes remaining closed. “Rounded a few up, asked them about Thomas and they all went quiet, so I think they knew something.”

“Righ’.”

She inhaled a breath, her eyebrows rising a little. “But maybe not, they didn’t seem particularly bright. One lit a stick of dynamite and threw it without even looking, it exploded near me and his friends.”

“There was an explosion?!” He looked down at her as his hands stilled, staring. “Jesus, woman, can you prioritise the things you tell me and when?”

Her lips twitched as her gaze slid up to him. “Well, there was an ambush t—”

“Ambush?!”

“Well, the explosion came from the ambush—”

“God damn it, woman, you are just...” He exhaled a heavy breath as he shook his head. “... Are you okay?”

She smiled, almost in amusement. “I’m fine, Arthur.” The smile faded after a few moments, though, and he knew something else was on her mind.

Licking her lips, she curled up against him. “I heard one of the men say that Colm’s been looking for me. I just don’t know why. I can’t work out if it’s just a game for him or whether there’s an actual reason.”

Arthur had resumed stroking her skin gently, soothingly, and he released a low hum. “Well, he ain’t got you yet, though, and I won’t let him.”

Her lips twitched faintly as she arched an eyebrow. “You’ll have to get in line because I won’t let him either.”

“I would gladly get behind you...”

She laughed softly as his lips went to her forehead and cheeks, kissing sloppily.

“Stop it, my heart’s only just calmed down.”

"You sure? Lemme just check that you’re really okay...”

She laughed louder as her arms went around him as he shifted them so she lay underneath him, and he kissed and caressed every inch of her body, except where she wanted him the most.

“Insatiable, Mr Morgan...” she murmured with a breathless smile as his nose brushed against her stomach, and he pressed a kiss there, his lips trailing down.

—

He dozed off afterwards and she let him, knowing she should probably get some sleep, too, but it hadn’t come. She could barely close her eyes without wanting to scream with joy.

He loved her. She was loved, for all that she was, good and bad.

She would never be able to convey how happy she was.

Tonight had been the last barrier. The act and their words had told her he was hers and she was his, for all that they were, mind, body and soul.

On her side, her hand tucked under her chin, she gazed at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his nose, his mouth, his eyelashes, the hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck, the sparse, light freckles on his skin, the—

He shifted as he inhaled a slow breath. Her eyes moving back up, they met his.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice a little hoarse.

“Hey,” she whispered, a soft smile lifting her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder.

Rubbing at his face with a hand, he then arched an eyebrow as it dropped to his chest. “How long you been starin’ at me?”

Her smile widened. “Hours.”

He snorted. “I don’t sleep hours. You should sleep, though.”

“I will.”

He gazed at her as she didn’t move, just looking at him, her smile lingering.

She had to say it. Had to make sure it was still real.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan,” she murmured softly.

His features softened instantly, his arm sliding around her. “I love you, too, Ada.”

Lifting her chin, her lips met his in a tender kiss.

It was still real.

—

He awoke in the morning, after a peaceful, unbroken sleep, to find her head on his chest, her fingers tracing light patterns, her stomach rumbling, and aching and sore in the best way.

“I’ll cook us that meal,” he mumbled against her lips once he’d finally found the strength to stop kissing her.

She hummed and rolled onto her back as he pushed himself up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Watching him run a hand through his hair, she played with her ring, twisting it around and around, because as blissful as last night was, every second of it... the light of the morning sun brought with it an unspoken question that hung in the air.

He cleared his throat, his elbows on his knees. After a few moments, he then looked to her.

“We have to go back.” The words were quiet, expected, and she nodded.

“I know.”

Watching him dress, she didn’t allow herself to feel resigned, hopeless or afraid.

They would go back, and she would plan a way for them to leave this life behind.

—

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glow-worm · 4 years

Text

The Dog Days Are Over

Welcome to Puppy Town! (Read on AO3 as well!)

The crew disembarked from the Starblaster, wary. The last two cycles had been extremely difficult.

It seemed like a normal planet—forests and mountains, lakes and little towns they could see from the ship.

They walked for a few miles to the nearest settlement, hoping the folks who lived there would be amicable.

In the distance, they could hear something that sounded like dogs barking.

Magnus crossed his fingers to wish very hard.

“Planet of dogs, planet of dogs, planet of dogs,” Magnus chanted quietly.

“Never stop dreaming,” Taako quipped.

Magnus always wished for a planet of dogs. It never seemed to happen, but the crew encouraged him—after all, it wasn’t statistically impossible.

Lucretia stopped in her tracks and drew her wand.

“Something’s coming,” she warned.

Magnus wrapped his hand around the handle of his axe.

A rustling came from nearby bushes, along with a mysterious whimpering and panting which grew louder and louder.

The team tensed, their weapons readied.

Three puppies tumbled out of the bush, playfully nipping at each other.

Magnus let go of his axe.

“Yes,” he whispered.

The puppies—which ran on four legs but wore clothes, two in overalls and one in a dress—saw the crew and charged forward, barking.

“Yes!” Magnus exclaimed.

The dogs leapt up, and Magnus allowed them to knock him over.

“YES!” Magnus yelled as puppies licked his face and trampled him.

“Well, shit,” Taako said, lowering his wand.

“Need help, buddy?” Barry asked.

“If this is how I go,” Magnus began with tears in his eyes. “This is how I go.”

One of the overall-clad puppies sat on Magnus’s chest wagging its tail happily until it did something no one expected.

It opened its mouth and spoke.

“Hewwo!” The puppy howled.

Taako raised his wand again, gritting his teeth.

“Absolutely not,” he said with derision.

Lup put her hand on her brother’s wand and lowered it down.

“Holy shit, they can talk!” Davenport said.

The dress-wearing dog yapped and sprinted over to the captain, jumping up at him until he conceded to pick it up so it could lick his face.

The third dog ran around in circles, jumping up and smelling each of the IPRE crew while shooting off questions.

“What are you! Where did you come from! You smell weird! Where are your tails! Why is your fur only on the top of your head!”

“Uh—” Barry began as the dog began to bite and tug at the cuffs of his jeans. "You’ve never seen anything that looks like us before, huh?”

“Noooooo!” The little dog howled. “But we’ve never left Puppy Town before...maybe Mom and Dad have?”

Lucretia couldn’t help but smile, scratching underneath the chin of the rambunctious pup.

“Did you say Puppy Town?” Magnus squealed.

“That’s our village!” The puppy on his chest answered happily. “Are you new to town?”

“If they’re not from Puppy Town they must be from Rover Ridge!” One exclaimed.

“No, no, I bet they’re from Barkborough!”

“I can’t,” Taako breathed.

“Barkborough?!” A puppy exclaimed. “What’s it like in the big city? What brings you to Puppytown?”

“Uh—” The captain began, but he was cut off by a deep howl sounding off in the distance.

“Dad’s calling us,” said the dog on Magnus’s chest before leaping off of him. “Let’s go.”

“I dunno,” the dress-wearing dog started. “Maybe we should have him come here instead. So he can smell these guys.”

“Good idea, Bits,” an overall-clad dog answered. It then sat back and threw its head into the sky with a squeaky “Awooooo!”

The two other puppies joined in the howling.

Magnus sat back up, grinning from ear to ear.

“Wipe that smile off your face,” Taako said. “They’re calling for backup.”

“They’re dogs,” Magnus asserted with exasperation.

“That’s exactly what they want you to think,” he retorted.

Magnus gently pulled up the floppy ears of the puppy closest to him and looked up at Taako expectantly.

“What else would you call this?!” he asked.

“A trap,” Taako said.

“An adorable trap,” Lup added with a shrug.

The deep howl grew closer and closer as the crew bantered. Davenport subtly raised his wand towards the sound, just to be safe.

The puppies ceased their call, then all three began to bound towards a large oak tree.

From behind the tree stepped a full-grown adult dog, walking on two legs and wearing a tweed suit and cap. He was a tricolor hound, and as he appeared he stopped howling. The puppies jumped up at him, sniffing and licking him. He gave each one a good sniff before suddenly locking directly on to the crew. He pointed at them, and stared without blinking.

“Dad!” A puppy exclaimed. “Meet our new friends!”

“Friends?” Dad dog repeated, still staring the crew down.

“Yes, we sniffed them and they gave us scratches and rubs,” Another puppy said. “And now we’re best friends.”

Dad dog relaxed. “Oh,” he said. “I see. Hello!”

Davenport lowered his wand somewhat awkwardly. “Uh, hi,” he said. The dog, on his hind legs, was a solid foot taller than the gnomish captain.

Magnus jumped back up to his feet and exclaimed, “Hail and well met, Dad Dog!”

“Oh, please,” he replied. “Dad Dog was my father. My name is Barkley.”

“We’re gonna die,” Taako whispered. His sister shushed him.

Barkley approached Magnus, his tail wagging behind him. “And these are my pups: Peanutbutter, Kibbles, and Bits.”

The kids yapped happily before continuing to romp and play with each other.

Barkley sniffed around Magnus, who knelt down so Barkley could get a solid lick across his face.

Magnus began to ugly cry.

“Hey Mags, want me to kill you so you can die happy?” Taako offered. “I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what you folks are,” Barkley said thoughtfully. “But I think I love you already? Come on back to the village, you must be hungry. Come on. Come on!”

Barkley beckoned as he began walking, two of his pups playfully following behind him. Peanutbutter tugged at the cuffs of Magnus’s pants, so Magnus followed too.

The rest of the crew hung back, exchanging wary glances.

“Fifty GP says this is a trap,” Lup said. “Like, for real.”

“A talking dog named his kids Kibbles and Bits?” Taako mused. “Yeah, this is absolutely a trap.”

“...I do like dogs,” Barry noted.

“Natch, everyone loves dogs, dogs are great,” Lup said. “But what are the odds?”

“We’ve seen plenty of impossible things before,” Davenport pointed out.

Merle was already going after Magnus. “Y’all are a bunch of ninnies,” he remarked. “The IPRE will face off against an all-consuming living Hunger but not investigate some fantasy-Beatrix-Potter-ass dogs?”

“I didn’t say we shouldn’t investigate,” Lup clarified, following suit. “I mean worst case scenario, Barry and I lich it up. I’m just saying it's suspicious.”

Lucretia sighed and followed Magnus and Merle without further comment. Barry and Lup trailed along.

Taako lingered back before rolling his eyes. “I am not spending this cycle baking dog treats,” he said. “I want it on the record now.”

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

They approached the village and saw a large wooden sign, decorated with colorful paw prints that read:

“Welcome to Puppy Town!”

“We’re here!” Barkley announced. “Feel free to have a good sniff around. Our cottage is that one with the chimney smoking over there,” he pointed to a quaint house. “You’re more than welcome to come to dinner later, but if you’re hungry now the Barkery is right down the street.”

“The Barkery,” Taako repeated, monotone.

“Yes!” Barkley said. “You know, where you get treats and kibble and bread?”

“If I die here,” Magnus cried. “Just let it happen.”

The town was peaceful, and the crew was investigated by just about every dog they passed. There were many questions, and even more sniffing and petting.

Over the next few months, they learned a lot about the dogfolk. They had magic and classes. Instead of races, they had “breeds” and certain breeds had certain traits. There were beagle wizards, shiba barbarians, pit bull clerics. It fascinated the crew. It was a very research-heavy cycle.

Young puppies walked on all fours, and began to transition to being bipedal in their teenaged years. Adult dogs mostly walked on their hind legs, but would run with all four if the need arose.

There were no gerblins or imps here, but there were pesky squirrels. Barkley was absolutely vexed by these pestersome creatures, but to the crew…they were just literal squirrels that stole the occasional cherry pie from a windowsill.

Lup and Taako were disappointed to learn that there wasn’t too much to say in the way of cooking and baking here. Luckily the food wasn’t gross or too weird, but there were no new recipes to be learned. The dogfolk’s diets were fairly similar to humans, save for the biscuits, mostly eating bread and meat and fruit—though they were very adamant that no grapes were allowed in Puppy Town.

It was mostly a relaxing cycle, a welcomed reprieve after multiple trying years. They went on walks, studied a few cantrips that were unique to this world, gave belly rubs, and played.

Fisher stayed inside of the Starblaster, however, as Lucretia was worried the dogs would try to eat him.

The IPRE were hailed as heroes after they managed to teach a few of the more competent wizard dogs the Silence spell—something that was previously undiscovered on this plane. It proved very useful during a thunderstorm a few months in.

About halfway through the year, while on a brief break from searching for the Light, it was brought straight to them.

Magnus was in the town square, whittling away at a stick while a few younger dogs watched with watery mouths.

An adult dog charged forward on all fours, his clothes dirty and slightly tattered. In his mouth he carried a familiar glow.

He brought it forward to Magnus, tail wagging furiously.

Magnus reached out and the dog placed the Light of Creation in his hand. It was covered in slobber.

“Holy shit, you found the Light!” Magnus exclaimed.

The dog looked up at him expectantly, sitting back on his hind legs.

“Thank you so much,” Magnus said. “Uh...who’s a good boy?”

His tail thumped hard against the ground.

“I am!” The dog said. He paused thoughtfully and his tail slowly stopped wagging. “Please throw?”

“I’m dead,” Taako said. He began walking back to the ship.

“Oh!” Magnus smiled awkwardly. “Well, we...we kinda need this one, buddy, but—here—”

Magnus picked up a stick.

The dog jumped up, ready to run.

With a hearty throw Magnus yelled, “Go fetch!”

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

After they’d secured the Light, Barry and Lup had a few new lab partners.

A yellow lab, a brown lab, and a black lab.

It was only fair to let the dogfolk study the Light too. After all, they would survive the Hunger. Perhaps with the Light they could make their own scientific advances, and learn and grow as a species.

The crew did explain the Hunger/Light/IPRE situation to the dogfolk in hopes of making things easier on them, but only the smartest among them really understood. Still, Magnus gave some combat training to as many dogs as he could, aiming to protect them. The plan was to get out as soon as the Hunger showed up, hoping that the Hunger would do minimal damage before following them away from the plane. But just in case any of the dogfolk needed to defend themselves, Magnus helped them build their strength. One particularly feisty Pomeranian barbarian attended every session.

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

One night late in the cycle, Lucretia was interviewing an elderly Irish Wolfhound. It was dark out, but he wanted to go for a walk. They strolled by the lake and Lucretia asked various history questions, wanting a firsthand account, when suddenly he stopped. The reflection of something on the lake had caught his eye. He followed the reflection and looked up into the sky, at the full moon.

He began to howl.

Lucretia smiled and documented the incident with amusement before she started to hear howling call from all over the village, from dogs small and large.

“Why do you howl at the moon?” She asked sweetly once the old dog had ceased.

He suddenly looked very serious.

“We dogfolk are of the sun,” he said. “The catfolk are of the moon. Now—most folks say there’s no such thing as cats. And maybe not, here. But you said yourself: there were dogs back on your home planet. So who’s to say there aren’t cats?”

Lucretia held back the urge to inform him.

“Cats may lay in the sun. And dogs may howl at the moon. We may dream of and admire the moon, but we may never touch it. We howl to remind ourselves of this. Every full moon, we sing its praises. But we can never, never touch the moon.”

“…But your scientists are studying space travel. Laika just got her dogtorate in astrophysics, she wants to be a cosmonaut. What would happen if they explored the moon?” Lucretia questioned.

“The apocalypse.”

“Huh?” she blinked.

The wolfhound nodded, sorrowful.

“Lucretia,” he addressed. “You are an inter-planar traveler. But this is a universal constant. No matter how much we howl, no matter how far into space we go. Whatever you do, wherever you go: dogs must never touch the moon. Promise me you’ll do your part to uphold this.”

“Right,” she promised, grim. “No dogs on the moon.”

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

The end of the cycle approached, and the IPRE was greeted with a sea of puppy-dog eyes as they boarded the Starblaster for the last time. The crew had explained what was going to happen multiple times—there was nothing more they could say.

Magnus had wanted to stay back and help the dogs fight, but both the rest of the crew and some of the leaders of the dogfolk said it would be harder for the dogs to understand what was going on if Magnus stayed behind and then suddenly disappeared when the Light took him.

So when the grass turned the telltale shades of gray and the sky grew darker and darker, the crew said their goodbyes and prayed that Puppy Town would be spared.

As soon as the bond engine allowed, the Starblaster took off. And, as they’d hoped, the Hunger hadn’t even hit the ground yet—and they followed the ship without so much as touching Puppy Town.

For once, the crew was absolutely certain: they had saved an entire plane, and not even one creature in it was harmed.

#taz #the adventure zone #taz fic #humor #crackfic #it's just fucking......it's just puppy town #it's just puppy town folks!#silly #puppy town #no dogs were harmed in the making of this fic #i'm quarantined with a LOT of dogs guys #balance #taz balance

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nancythebisexualslutwheeler · 4 years

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Tutor AU Pt 2

Part One Being Richie’s boyfriend is wild. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, but somehow everyone knows him. Triple B- Ben, Bev and Bill have no problem switching lunch tables to sit by Richie and Richie’s friends Stan and Mike. Though Eddie and Richie don't spend much time at the table, Richie usually sneaks out for a smoke break.

Eddie doesn’t smoke but always accompanies him, mostly because there tends to be a little kissing in between cigarettes. He never thought he’d be okay with that, but Richie makes him question everything.

***

Richie gives Eddie his leather jacket after a track meet. Eddie very pointedly doesn’t give it back. He sometimes sits in class with it, or in his bed late at night and tilts his nose into the fabric so he can smell Richie’s cologne. It’s just comforting, okay?

***

Since Richie can never set foot on Eddie’s street, Richie invites Eddie over for dinner. He’s not sure what to expect from Richie’s parents. Maggie is short and wide and wears her hair in a French braid and smiles so hard and so sincerely. Went is tall and thin and claps Eddie on the back at least three times.

She’d made spaghetti. Well, supervised, she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Richie’s the best chef in the house. He makes the sauce from scratch.”

“Oh wow! That’s...” he looks over at Richie whose cheeks are red.

His parents go upstairs, and they wash the dishes together and then sit on the couch. Richie turns on Netflix. They’ve barely finished an episode of NCIS when his phone starts ringing.

He pulls it out of his pocket and then walks over to the corner of the room near the patio door and answers it. Eddie hums a song in his head so he doesn’t eavesdrop.

“I’ve gotta go. Um, can you get home alright?” He asks, which is weird, he usually drives Eddie home.

Of course Eddie can take a hint, but Richie doesn’t offer any other information which is weird.

***

It’s not the last time it happens either. He cuts dates short or straight up blows off dates to accommodate whosoever number kept appearing on his phone.

***

Eddie is at the mall with his mom when he sees them. Richie is looking good as always in a Queen shirt and black jeans, even though it’s a warm fall day. He’s holding a toddler in his arms who can’t be more than two years old. Richie says hi, and Eddie’s mom stares.

“Eddie you know this, young man?” She grits out.

Richie’s eyes narrow before his face smoothes into a wide smile and he holds out a hand,

“Hello ma’am, yes Eddie tutors me in math. I’m not so good at it. I’m Richie Tozier.”

She stares at his hand until he retracts it,

“Oh, you’re Maggie’s son.”

His eyes narrow again and Eddie grabs his mom’s arm,

“Mom, let’s go.”

“I just knew-”

“Mom!”

She pulls her arm away,

“Eddie, I’m just saying,”

Richie’s body is pulled like a bow string and his face is daring her to say something.

“We’ve gotta go. Remember? New towels?”

“Fine.”

Eddie leads his mom away, as if if he lets go of her, she’ll go back and curse Richie to hell.

***

He doesn’t even think about the child again until he gets home when he texts Richie,

Eddie: You didn’t tell me you had another sister.

The response takes longer than normal. Usually Richie texts him back within seconds.

Richie: …. I don’t.

Eddie hesitates. They’ve only been dating about two months, but it feels like a lifetime. For Eddie at least. Well not a lifetime, but Eddie is falling hard. He tries to picture the child, but he had been so worried about his mom talking to Richie that he wasn’t even paying attention. The thing was that he heard about Maggie Tozier all the way home, and he hadn’t wanted that sort of wrath released on Richie.

Eddie: She’s… yours?

He hesitates before sending the message, before he finally does, right after he chooses to dial Richie’s number instead. It goes straight to voicemail.

Eddie: Really?

Richie: Nothing to say champ. We’re done.

Eddie: What? Why? What did I do?

He calls again. It goes to voicemail.

***

He knows it’s lame to ride his bike but his boyfriend, well okay the person he’s been dating, isn’t answering and there’s a whole lot that needs to be discussed. Like nine months worth of a lot.

He doesn’t expect Richie to answer the door with baby food stains on his shirt and arms. He looks just as freaked out to see Eddie. He quickly steps out and shuts the door halfway,

“What?”

“What do you mean what? You’re not answering my calls?”

“I’m a little busy,” he says rudely.

Eddie hesitates, Richie is intimidating, he is. But usually he’s so nice and kind that Eddie kind of forgets that he can come off as cold.

“You are my boyfriend right?” Eddie asks quietly, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Richie’s face softens,

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Then let me in and let’s talk about this.”

Talk about how Richie has a kid. A whole human being. Richie hesitates.

“I’m in the middle of something Eddie.”

Eddie knows he’s being desperate and clingy, but Richie had said they were done and that wasn’t okay with him,

“I’ll wait.”

Richie shifts from foot to foot,

“I don’t introduce people to her.”

Eddie nods, ready to apologize, but then Richie opens the door. Eddie can sense his hesitation, and the baby is crying. Not actively, but little hiccups and Richie strides over to the kitchen and immediately starts feeding her what Eddie assumes are the baby food version of carrots. She’s adorable, even with mashed food in her face and hair. She has dark blonde hair, her ears pierced and Richie’s blue eyes. Richie must be able to feel Eddie’s stare and he blushes,

“Well sit down.”

Eddie sits. Tries to remember any pregnant girls in their grade. Then in their school. There was a freshman, three juniors and a couple senior girls.

“Who?”

“Do you remember Wendy Miller?”

Wendy Miller was a blonde Barbie doll who switched schools at the end of last year, finishing her senior year somewhere else. Eddie feels a sting of jealousy, wondering how he’s supposed to compete with that.

“She’s beautiful,” Eddie offers instead.

“Thank you. Her name is Anastasia.”

“Big name for such a little girl.”

Richie bops her nose,

“She’ll grow into it.”

“I’ve never seen her before.”

Richie shrugs,

“I don’t introduce people to my kid.”

“It’s been two months.”

“Keeping track are we?” he teases.

“Richie, this is serious.”

“That’s why I said we’re done. There’s no,” He hesitates as Anastasia bangs the spoon on the tray of the high chair, flinging carrot residue everywhere, “I’m sorry, I should have told you. I was being selfish. I just wanted this to last.”

“Who says it can’t last?”

“You’re seventeen.”

“You’re nineteen!” he argues back.

“And I had eight months to prepare. I signed up for this. Wendy and I signed up for this. You didn’t.”

Eddie hesitates because Richie isn’t wrong.

“Do you have her full time?”

“We have 50/50 custody.”

“How old is she?”

“She’ll be a year next month.”

“That’s exciting.”

“I know! I can’t believe it. My mom is like, wanting to go to Disney World and I’m like calm down there Mags.”

Eddie laughs,

“Aw, and your sister likes her?”

“More now than when she didn’t sleep through the night.”

“Can’t blame her there.”

He can’t imagine Richie with a baby any smaller than this. The thought is almost incomprehensible. This is Richie. Who smokes cigarettes and is at every one of Eddie’s meets and didn’t graduate the first time. And he’s in charge of a whole human. Eddie isn’t trying to be judgemental but he doesn’t get why people aren’t more careful. Richie must see the judgment on his face because the smile disappears.

“You don’t have to be here,” he says harshly.

“No, I want to, I do. It’s just a lot.”

Richie shakes his head,

“Maybe you should go.”

“No, Richie please, I’m sorry,”

Richie stands up, and unstraps Anastasia before pulling her out,

“I need to give her a bath anyway. I’ll try to call you later.”

***

He doesn’t call. He doesn’t call Sunday, and he’s not in school on Monday.

***

Eddie doesn’t eat dinner on Saturday or Sunday, and his mom fawns after him the entire day, she doesn’t even go to church. Monday drags by and he calls Richie again, and it goes to voicemail, again.

***

He doesn’t even know if it’s worth it to go to by his house, so he invites Bev over instead. They’re sitting on Eddie’s bed eating pizza and ice cream with music playing in the background. His mom is at her book club, so as long as he hides the receipt and they eat on his freshly stripped bed, they should be okay.

“Richie wasn’t at school,” she points out. Like it’s just a random observation.

“Yeah I don’t know what that’s about,” he shrugs.

“But you do know something. Eddie what’s up?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Richie has a daughter. Her name is Anastasia. She’s really cute actually,”

“What the hell? A kid? Eddie, that's a huge deal.”

“I know,” Eddie moans.

“A whole kid?”

“No half a kid,” he rolls his eyes, “I think I upset him.”

“Upset him?” She screeches, “it’s been months! Did he even tell you? Eddie, this isn’t okay.”

“I know, I know, but I think I love him.”

“Oh honey.”

They don’t really talk about it after that.

***

If he’d thought Bev reacted badly, then Bill’s was terrible. They go for burgers on Wednesday after school. Richie still hasn’t been in school or answered his phone.

He’s just getting ready to drown himself in his brownie sundae when his phone dings.

Richie: hey can u come over

Eddie pauses and it sings again.

Richie: plz

Eddie quickly types out a response and Bill is like “Be careful Ed.”

***

Richie looks like shit. He smells like beer. He looks wrecked and Eddie’s defenses are up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Stasia’s been sick. It was just a cold and then she got a fever and it spiked. We were in the hospital last night- she, she’s fine, sorry I should have led with that. But I haven’t slept and I’m so tired and my heart hurts,” he’s breathing heavy and Eddie walks him to the couch.

***

After Richie says Anastasia is safe at home with her mom, and he eats a piece of peanut butter toast and drinks a glass of juice, he reaches for Eddie. He can tell Richie wants to cuddle, but he doesn’t know where they stand and he hesitates. But then Richie stares at him with his big old eyes and asks him if he will nap with him.

“I’m just so tired, but I can’t sleep. It was so scary Eds.”

Eddie pats his back,

“I’m sure it was. But she’s okay, yeah? It’ll be alright.”

So they go lay down and Richie is under the blanket and Eddie is over the blanket and Eddie kisses Richie’s forehead and holds his hand as he falls asleep. Richie looks like an angel when he’s asleep. His hair is a mess, he has freckles on his nose and he hasn’t shaved in a few days. Eddie plays on his phone for a while until Richie curls himself around him. Then he shuts off his phone and lays down. They find themselves tangled up together when Maggie knocks on the door a few hours later.

***

Eddie quickly leaves and Richie promises to call him. Eddie actually has to talk to his mother when he gets home and they eat another hotdish and spend another night talking about nothing. He showers and lays down, prepared to turn on the tv. Richie calls and they talk about Maggie freaking out about him sleeping over, and how Anastasia is doing. Eddie convinces Richie to come to school the next day and hang out with him after school. Which results in Eddie skipping a track meet.

***

Bill flips out and goes off on Richie at lunch. Eddie has never missed a track meet. Ever. He was extremely dedicated and needed a scholarship to get away from his mom.

“All I know is that he’s never missed a track meet before you. And he hasn’t been hanging out with us as much. You just want him at your beck and call while you use him for a notch in your belt!”

They haven’t even done more than makeout so he’s shocked that Bill has jumped to that conclusion. Eddie blushes, feeling embarrassed that his friends are making him seem like a child.

“He’s not just a warm body to me!”

Bill’s mouth twists,

“Is that what you tell them all? Is that what you told Wendy?”

Richie is out of his seat in a second, Mike jumps up and grabs his arm and Eddie is scared he’s going to start swinging. Ben is strong enough to hold Bill back but the two boys struggle. Tears spring to Eddie’s eyes and he pushes himself up from the table. He’s blinded by tears and he doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows he has to get away from the yelling and fighting and suddenly he can’t breathe and he pulls his inhaler out of his pocket and sinks down against a locker.

Surprisingly it’s Mike who sinks down next to him. He can’t stop crying. Everyone’s right about him, he is a little, sick baby. Mike doesn’t touch him, just sits close to him.

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, this is my fault!” he wails.

Mike shakes his head,

“No, Richie should have been upfront.”

“You knew?”

Mike looks at him confused,

“Yes. Richie has been my friend since we were in diapers. I’m Anastasia’s godfather.”

Eddie looks at him wide eyed,

“That’s a big responsibility.”

“Richie is like my brother.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes.

“He really likes you. I know he does.”

Eddie’s mouth twists to the side,

“If you say so.”

Mike looks up at him. He has such a serious face,

“I do. And if you like him, at all, I think you should give him a chance.”

“I know nothing about kids. I’m an only child and I have no cousins or anything.”

“He’ll teach you. And it’s not like he’s gonna throw you in to step-daddy, or even make you watch her. He will respect your boundaries.”

“We talking about the same Richie?”

Mike’s eyebrows raise, and that seems to be as much of a facial expression as he can muster.

“Sorry, I’m joking.”

“Does he not treat you well?”

Eddie starts shaking his head immediately,

“Of course he does!”

Mike gives him an exactly look.

***

Bill and Bev apologize but Richie still won’t answer his calls. He supposes it’s his turn again to show up unannounced.

Richie looks wrecked, again. He assumes Anastasia is still sick, but Richie looks happy to see him, even if it’s just a little. Eddie pulls Richie in for a hug and he buries his face in his neck. It’s been too long.

“Surprised to see you here,” Richie says, running a hand over his face.

“One day you’re gonna stop being surprised. I want to date you, stop trying to get rid of me.”

“Even with Anastasia? Because it’s going to be really hard,”

“If I start quoting The Notebook right now, will you punch me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well I want to try. More than try. Richie, I’m in love with you.”

He beams behind his glasses,

“I’m in love with you, Eddie spaghetti.”

“Oh god, is that a dad joke? It is, isn’t it?”

Richie just laughs harder and pulls Eddie against his chest in a hug, and Eddie tips his head up to kiss him softly.

#reddie #Reddie fan fiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #bill denbrough #Beverly marsh #mike hanlon #stanley uris #ben hanscom #it 2017 #it 2019 #my writing

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thaisibir · 4 years

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La Vie en Rose (Bede and young!Opal time travel fic)

La Vie en Rose (Life in Pink) Rating: T (for character deaths and language) Chapter 10/10 - Inheritance (length: ~5k words) Summary: Bede doesn’t get why that loony old bat Opal wants him to be the next Fairy-type Gym Leader. To help him understand, Opal has Celebi take Bede back to the time of her youth.

(For other chapters, look up the tag “pokemon la vie en rose” or go to my profile)

Social media exploded when Diantha publicized her resignation as the Champion of Kalos and announced that she would move to Galar.

“Even on better days, I have no time to look through all the inquiries and comments,” she said to Bede as she shut off her phone and stuffed it firmly to the bottom of her purse. “I insisted that I won’t be taking interviews any time soon. I hope everyone respects my need for privacy.”

Bede rolled up his sleeve. “Don’t worry, my Pokemon and I will take care of anyone who won’t.”

She smiled. “That’s so kind of you, but I hope you’re not too serious about that. You need time with Opal as much as I do.”

While the former Champion of Kalos had resolved to set aside her phone for a while, Bede busied over his. “I’ll tell my fellow Gym Leaders to keep an eye out for anyone nosing into our business.”

He had all of their phone numbers now. They were just a call or a text away, as they had promised, and the thought of them having his back comforted him. As the days of the last week ticked by, Bede was bracing himself for the last day, for the time that he would have to say good-bye.

He and Diantha strived to make Opal as comfortable as possible. Halfway through the week, she couldn’t get out of bed even with support from the two of them.

At that point, Professor Magnolia was the only visitor allowed inside the house, because Opal would ask for her company during teatime.

Because her hand was too shaky to handle hot tea, Bede stuck around to help her guide the cup to her mouth. “Lately there’s been a fog over my memory, like a soft thick blanket I can’t see through,” Opal told Magnolia. “Sometimes, though, there would be rays of sun shining down, so I could see. Like the day we had met, when we had a Gym match, and I showed you the Impidimps, and you came up with the name for my son.” The stroke kept Opal from curling up both corners of her lips when she tried to smile. “I’ll always remember times like that. You were there for a lot of those sunny spots, Mag. Thank you.”

The teacup trembled in Magnolia’s hand, though not from a stroke. The professor’s eyes watered behind her thick spectacles. “It’s an honor to have been your friend for so long.”

Opal rested her good hand over Magnolia’s, and the two elderly woman said nothing for a while. As quietly as he could, Bede took the empty cups of tea from them and drew back into the kitchen.

Bede and Diantha’s routine to make Opal comfortable in her home was interrupted by Opal herself.

“My dears, would be so kind to help me outside to the living room?” she asked them. “Park me right by the fireplace.”

Bede frowned. “Are you cold, Ms. Opal?” She couldn’t be. She always had a fluffy coat around her, and blankets never too far out of reach.

“Oh no, my boy, I’m as snug as a Charjabug. I’d like to be by the fireplace nevertheless.”

When they did as she had asked, she motioned with her good hand to the shelf near the kitchen. “Diantha, please bring me that unlabeled binder by my mum’s manual.”

“What’s in here, Auntie?” the former Champion asked as she brought it over.

“Scripts for plays that my husband never finished,” Opal murmured. “Sometimes, when I was younger, I’d pull it out of the shelf and try to finish them myself.” She chuckled. “I couldn’t even get through reading them without crying, though. I couldn’t bring myself to touch his work. So I left them tucked away in that shelf for years and years.”

“You’ve decided what to do with them now?” Bede asked.

“Yes. Burn them.”

He gasped, and Diantha said, “But Auntie...”

“You heard me right.” Opal kept her voice low and calm. “I haven’t gone off my rocker. I know what I’m doing, and I want them burned. I don’t think of it so much as destroying my husband’s work, but sending it up to him, so we can work on them together when I see him again. And I’ll be seeing him soon.”

Bede tried to blink mist out of his eyes as he started up the fire. Then he helped Diantha strip the binder of its contents, taking turns with her to carefully toss small stacks of paper into the flames. Roger’s incomplete stories blackened, curled, and crumbled away. Bede watched this along with Opal, figuring that she could be seeing words go up in smoke somehow.

It took visible effort for Opal to then turn her gaze toward Diantha kneeling beside her. “As for the scripts he did finish, I trust that you will do a good job bringing them to life on stage, in my place.”

Diantha clasped her great-aunt’s thin, withered hand. “You can leave it to me. The show at Ballonlea Theatre will go on. That’s a solemn promise, from actress to actress.”

Bede felt a surge of gratitude towards the former Champion of Kalos. The theatre could not ask for a better successor. He couldn’t make that same promise to Opal. What he could do was become the Gym Leader Opal wanted him to be.

He became an expert at tucking Opal into bed. He didn’t need Diantha’s help for that. On a rainy night, the night before her time to go tomorrow as Celebi predicted, he fought to get the words “good night” out of his mouth. His throat closed up and the words felt dammed up behind it.

Before he could get them out, Opal said, “Bede, I need ask of you an important favor.”

“Uh, sure.”

“Be a dear and fetch the letter from the drawer in my nightstand, will you?”

He did as she asked, but she didn’t stop there. He handed Opal the letter, but with a raised trembling hand, she gently pushed it back toward him and said, “Would you mind reading it out loud to me? My sight’s been spotty lately.”

Bede opened up the folded paper, and the name he saw scrawled at the end made his breath hitch in his throat. The note from Kestrel. His last words before he had taken his own life in prison. For decades that note sat unopened.

He looked up at her. “Are you sure you want to—“

“Yes, I’m sure.” Opal closed her eyes and leaned back into her pillows. “I think I’m finally ready to hear what my little brother wanted to tell me all those years ago.”

She looked like she was about to go to sleep, but Bede knew that she would listen with rapt attention as he edged near the glow of the nightstand lamp and dropped his gaze back to the letter.

“Dear Opal,

I don’t know where to begin. I don’t even know if you’ll ever read this. I have to say something, nonetheless. My sentence is almost up, but done as it may almost be in the eyes of the law, I know that it wouldn’t ever be done in your eyes.

In the isolation of my cell, I try to think back to happier times: sharing stories of wanderlust and adventure with my brother in-law, and letting my nephew fly on the wings of my Pidgeot. It’s my fault that I dashed all of those to the ground, that I destroyed every chance to make more of those happy times. Most of my fellow prisoners look forward to the day they’re released. Not me. I dread it. Actually, I wish I could stay locked up in here forever. I wish for that, because I know that when I’m a free man, I would never be able to look at you in the eye. Would you be able to look at me in the eye, Opal? Speak to me again? Let me back into Ballonlea Town, back into your life? I don’t know, and I won’t ask. I’m afraid to find out your answers to these questions.

There isn’t enough space in this paper, in this whole world, really, to tell you just how sorry I am for everything I have done. I’m sorry, Roger. I’m sorry, Jasper. I’m sorry, Randall. And I’m sorry, Opal. I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. This is good-bye.

All my love, regrets, and sympathies,

Kestrel”

Bede set the letter aside on the nightstand. Opal didn’t move or say anything. The only sign of life from her were tears welling in her eyes and running down her cheeks. Bede pulled out the corner of a blanket and reached over to dab her face dry.

“I forgive you, Kes,” she whispered. “After all these years, I finally forgive you.” She smiled up at Bede. “Thank you for reading that letter to me. I think I’m ready to call it a night now.”

“Good night, Ms. Opal.” He bent down to peck her cheek. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow,” she assured him.

With that, Bede went to bed sleeping easier than he had thought.

He roamed the house to throw open all the curtains. Morning in the canopy-covered Ballonlea Town wasn’t streaming in sunlight, but the rain from last night had stopped to leave fat drops all over the windows. Several light taps sounded from the front door. Bede jumped. Mightyena and Obstagoon stirred from their sleeping places in the living room, then they quickly joined Bede as he trudged up to the door with a frown. An unwanted visitor? He braced himself for the obligation to chase away whoever had the nerve to stick their nose where they shouldn’t.

He cracked the door open, then stepped back in disbelief. “Celebi? You came!”

“Bi.” The time-traveling Pokemon hovered before him at eye level.

Bede drew back to let Celebi inside while patting Mightyena and Obstagoon. “It’s okay, Celebi’s a friend,” he told the Dark type Pokemon. “It’s here to—“ He choked up, then went on in a small voice, “It’s here to say goodbye to Opal.”

“Who’s that at the door?” Diantha stumbled out of her bedroom in her nightgown. Her eyes, heavily lidded from just waking up, went wide at the sight. “Je n’y crois pas,” she breathed.

“I couldn’t believe it, either,” Bede replied. “But Celebi’s really here.” He had picked up a decent amount of Kalosian from Diantha since she’d been staying in Opal’s house.

He led Celebi into Opal’s room. To his relief, the old woman was blinking sleepiness out of her eyes. She didn’t sit up, though.

“Celebi, so lovely to see you.” The cheerfulness in her voice outweighed the recent weakness for a moment.

Celebi wouldn’t be the only Pokemon in the room. Mightyena and Obstagoon came in behind Bede and Diantha, and he released his entire team from their balls so they could surround the bed.

Opal let out a laugh that sounded more like a cough. “What a delightful crowd. You’re all making me feel like a celebrity again.” The merriment faded from her face as she schooled her features to a serious expression. “I didn’t want to leave you all without a few words first.” She paused before she went on, “People always wanted to know the secret behind how I lasted on earth for this long. For a while, I didn’t know the answer myself. It’s not like I’ve been the best at looking after my health. You’ve seen me over the years, Bede...I smoked like a chimney in Motostoke and love to eat my weight’s worth of sugary stuff. It’s not because of Fairy type Pokemon magic, either, as most people like to believe.” She reached out with a trembling hand to rest it over Bede’s. “It’s because of you. I waited for you to come along. I had to wait for a bloody long time. At one point, I feared that I would never find the Gym Leader to succeed me, but you came after all, like a burst of bright pink after years and years of darkness. That was worth the wait.” Opal tried to smile up at him. “When I’m gone, and people still wonder how I had lived for as long as I did, tell them that the reason is you.”

With a huge lump in his throat, Bede managed a wordless nod.

“Now I need to give you some last-minute life lessons, in case you didn’t get them the first time around from your trip with Celebi.”

He already knew, but he wanted to keep hearing her talk. He couldn’t bear to think of her being forever silent and still within minutes, or hours, or however long it took for death to come for people her age.

“Diantha, you may have not traveled with Celebi through time, but you need to hear this, too.”

Bede gently squeezed Opal’s hand, silently prompting her to go on.

“Don’t be like me and let anger and loneliness eat up your life. Surround yourself with people and Pokemon you love and trust. Accept kindness and friendship when they’re offered to you. You two are still so young, with your whole lives ahead of you. Or maybe you don’t, like Roger and Jasper. You never know. Either way, if you cut yourself off from the world, you either don’t live long enough to have that chance to turn around, or you live long enough to regret it.”

Bede and Diantha shared gazes glittering with wetness before they turned back to Opal and nodded. He had seen how Opal’s vindictive rage had led to the destruction of her younger brother, and the near-destruction of herself. He was determined not to follow Opal down that kind of dark path.

The old woman sighed and closed her eyes. “I think I’ve said everything I wanted to say. I will leave this world in peace, knowing that the Gym and theatre of Ballonlea Town are in good hands.”

Tears that had welled up ran down Bede’s cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he had to let her go. There was nothing he could do to stop that. So he had better get this out before it was too late. Bede leaned in to wrap his arms around Opal as tenderly and delicately as he could. “I love you,” he croaked.

“I love you too,” she murmured.

Bede couldn’t stop his shoulders from shaking as he kept his arms around Opal and wept into the pillow. Diantha rested a hand on his back, and when he turned his head to peek over his shoulder, he saw that she had the other hand pressed over her eyes. Mightyena pressed its nose against Opal’s palm with a whine. Obstagoon placed a big dark paw over her arm. Togekiss, the only one light enough to sit on the mattress, snuggled at Opal’s side. The other Pokemon who couldn’t get on the bed huddled up beside each other, mourning quietly with Bede and Diantha.

Only Celebi didn’t have its head down. Instead it was looking up at something no one else could see.

Opal felt herself leave her own body with the last breath that left her lips. Her heart didn’t have to beat anymore, yet it ached as she looked down at her grieving family. Bede, the poor boy, cried the hardest of them all. She joined Diantha in resting a comforting hand on him, even if he couldn’t feel it.

He would be all right, she told herself. He won’t be alone. He has a family now.

Celebi was the only one who could see her in her new body. She smiled at it. “Thank you so much for bringing me and Bede together in the way only you know how.”

Making no sound to avoid alarming the others, Celebi silently acknowledged Opal’s gratitude with a smile of its own and a nod.

Suddenly laughter drifted into Opal’s ears. A child’s laughter. But not just any child. Startled, she straightened up her back, which she hadn’t done in years. “Celebi, did you hear that?”

Celebi gestured with its small green hand to the door, clearly encouraging Opal to follow the sound. She stepped away from her bedroom, the guilt of leaving Bede and Diantha behind eclipsed only by the drawing pull of laughter she hadn’t heard in so long. In her new body, Opal didn’t need to open the door to her house. She went straight through it. Who she saw just outside her door, laughing and skipping around in her front yard, sent the same thrilling bolt of wild joy that came with seeing Bede in Hammerlocke.

The little boy before her, dressed in the same suit he’d been buried with, stopped flapping his arms around like a bird Pokemon and smiled up at her. “Hello, Mummy.”

Opal trembled from head to toe and blinked hard. “Jasper, is that really you?” He jumped into her arms, and she enveloped him in a tight, fierce hug. “My darling, my baby boy,” she whispered into his dark curls. And she broke down as she held him. Jasper clung onto her firmly yet patiently, never squirming around to be let go. Finally she put him down and looked at her hands, her bony, thin 88 year-old hands. “I-I’ve changed so much since you last saw me. It’s been so long. How did you know I’m your mum?”

“I just know,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’ll always be my mummy.” Jasper reached up to hold her hand. “Come on, I’ll take you to Daddy.”

Opal gasped. “You know where your daddy is?”

“Uh-huh. He isn’t far.”

Opal let her son take the lead. For a little five year-old in the woods filled with Fairy type Pokemon that liked to lead travelers astray, he really knew his way around. He skipped by her side and didn’t stop to look around like he was lost. In their past lives, Opal would be the one to hold her son firmly by the hand and lead him down the scenic trails, to make sure that he didn’t wander out of her sight.

Now it was Jasper guiding her, and she realized that he was taking the route to the Ballonlea Cemetery. They had to cross a bridge over a brook along the way, and as they did, Opal looked down to find her reflection no longer elderly and white-haired, but young and dark-haired again.

Jasper looked over his shoulder and beamed at her new appearance. “That’s the mummy I remember.”

She smiled back at him. “Just like old times.”

The Ballonlea Cemetery was livelier than she had known it during all her prior visits. That was because she had only known it when she was alive. Now she saw departed spirits, just like herself, loitering around their headstones and enjoying the morning shade. Winston, the former butler at her family’s estate, bowed at her when she and Jasper passed by his headstone. Opal couldn’t help smiling at that. Old habits were hard to break, even in the afterlife.

Farther into the cemetery, Jasper broke away from Opal to run ahead. “Daddy, I’m back,” he called. “Look who I brought!”

Out of sight, a familiar voice called back, “Jasper, you had me worried, running off on your own like that!” The owner of the voice stepped into view from behind a headstone.

Opal stopped right in her tracks, and though her heart could no longer skip beats, she found that she couldn’t speak. All she could manage to get out was the name of the man she had married for five years, and loved for many, many more. “Roger?”

“Opal.” He made a wide smile underneath his beard. “Welcome home.”

She ran up to her husband and threw her arms around him. Like their son, Roger wore the suit that went down with his body during the funeral, though there was no smell of dust and decay to either of them. Instead they were bright and brimming with second life.

Opal realized that Roger didn’t return her hug with both arms, but with only one. He was holding something in the other. She pulled back from his embrace. “What do you have there, Roger?”

Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Not what. Who.”

The swaddled blankets in his arm stirred, and Opal gasped. “A baby!” She reached out with a trembling hand. “Could...could this be...”

“Yes, dear, she’s ours.” He rested a hand on the small of her back. “You were carrying a baby girl.”

“Oh.” Opal felt on the verge of tears as Roger handed over their second child to her. “Oh, Roger, Jasper, she’s lovely. Absolutely gorgeous. I can’t believe it. A daughter...”

The baby responded to her mother’s breathless disbelief and adoration with a toothless smile. She broke out laughing when Jasper, being the silly big brother, made funny faces at her. Opal found herself laughing along while crying at once.

“This feels like a dream, a dream come true to be a family together again.”

Roger kissed her cheek. “It’s not a dream, dear. This is real.”

“What’s our daughter’s name? I imagine she has to have a name by now.” Opal felt some of her old humor return as she glanced over at Roger. “Heaven forbid if she’s been nameless for this long.”

He laughed. “She has a name, all right, although I admit I felt bad for naming her without you.”

“Don’t be, darling. You didn’t know when I’d be joining you, and I was the one who named Jasper. Remember how we agreed on taking turns to name our children?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“So what’s our baby girl’s name?”

“Pearl. But do feel free to voice any suggestions or objections—“

“No, I think Pearl is perfect.” Opal leaned back into Roger’s embrace while keeping their daughter cradled in her arms.

He murmured into her ear, “Thank you for sending up my unfinished scripts, by the way. Much appreciated.”

She smiled up at him. “Of course. I figured you’d be itching to work on them again.”

“And you’ll help me finish them, as you’ve always done. We’ll be ghostwriters. How about that?”

Opal rolled her eyes. “Ha ha.” Her smirk widened when Pearl gurgled as if laughing along, and she bounced her daughter in her arms. “Your daddy just had to slip in a dad joke, huh?”

“There’s so much we can do, not just finish writing the plays together,” Roger said. “We can visit the other departed in their resting places. If you want, Opal, we could go all the way to Kalos to see Randall, or...”

Her husband trailed off, but Opal knew where he was getting at. “I’d love to do that, dear. Yes, I’d like to see Kestrel too, where the Wynwall correctional facility used to be.” She looked back at the path she and Jasper had taken to reach the cemetery. “But first, before we travel far and wide for that, there’s someone we should visit right here.”

Diantha called for the paramedics to collect Opal.

Bede stayed out of the way and couldn’t bring himself to watch her being taken away from the house. Though it was morning, he curled up back in his bed like a Shuckle hiding in its shell, wanting nothing more than to sleep. He’d been given plenty of instruction from Opal and Diantha on how to make funeral arrangements, all the legalese on claiming ownership of a deceased person’s Pokemon, getting registered as an official member of the Pokemon League, and so on. He was prepared, but he wasn’t ready. Right now he just wanted to sleep.

After much tossing and turning, Bede slipped beyond consciousness. He was still in bed, and even in his dreams he didn’t want to climb out of it. Someone from behind gently shook his shoulder. He turned in his bed, expecting to see Diantha, but who he saw instead made his heart almost stop.

“Ms. Opal?” he breathed.

“Long time no see, my boy.”

The Opal who stood before him was young, glowing, and beautiful, her short hair dark as the night sky and her eyes twinkling like bright blue stars. Bede sat up in bed and rubbed at his eyes, astonished beyond words. She didn’t come to him alone. Beside her were the man and boy Bede recognized from his journey through time.

The boy, Opal’s five year-old son, threw himself on the bed and at Bede to hug him. “Thank you for taking care of my mummy.”

Bede patted the top of Jasper’s dark messy hair. “O-of course. More like she’s been taking care of me.”

“You took care of each other,” Roger said warmly. He was holding a baby in his arms.

Bede looked between the reunited couple. “Is that...is that who I think it is?”

Opal smiled and nodded. “Bede, meet our daughter, Pearl.”

Like Jasper, Pearl took after her mother with the vivid blue eyes and dark, curly hair. Bede raised his hand to wave at the cooing baby, then he raised both frantically as Roger leaned in to hand her over. “Oh no, I-I don’t know how to hold a baby—“

“It’s okay, it’s not that hard,” Jasper said.

Bede found himself getting an armful of Pearl despite his flustered protests. The baby girl wiggled in his arms, as if to settle in, not out of fussiness. He smiled down at her. “Hi, there. Crazy to think that I’ve been under your mum’s care for longer than you have. But you’ve got her, now. You’re so lucky to have such a great mum.” He tapped at her button nose with a light, playful finger. “Yes, you.”

She giggled at his touch, and Opal extended her arms to relieve Bede of the baby.

“I thought we might visit you as soon as we could,” she told him. “Roger and Jasper wanted to say thanks, we wanted you to see Pearl, and you were crying so hard when I had left.”

Bede’s cheeks grew warm and he looked down at his hands. “I-I’m going to miss you so much, Ms. Opal.”

“She won’t be far,” Roger assured him. “You can always come talk to her at the cemetery. You might not know it, but she’ll hear you.”

“We’ll be flitting out and about sometimes, but look hard enough and you’ll find us by your side,” Opal said.

Knowing that she was never really gone gave Bede joy and peace he had never known before in his life. For much of his life he was used to being alone. Now he would have to get used to being surrounded by loved ones. Not that he was complaining.

Opal handed Pearl over to her husband. “Well, dear, let’s get going to visit Kes over at Wyndon. You’ve got to see how much it has changed over the years! And this time we don’t need a car or Flying Taxi to get there.”

With one arm Roger held his daughter, and with the other he took her hand. “First family trip in decades. Looking forward to it.”

Jasper bounced in place as his mother held his hand. “We’re going to see Uncle Kes! We��re going to see Uncle Kes!”

It seemed that the whole family had forgiven Kestrel, and knowing that made Bede happy for the poor man, wherever he was now.

Opal looked back to him. “This is good-bye, Bede my boy, but not forever. We’ll be back.”

He nodded. “Enjoy your next life,” he said softly.

The family turned to leave, and Bede ran outside of Opal’s house to find her, hand-in-hand with her spouse and son, flitting among the giant mushrooms of Ballonlea Town, weightless and soaring despite having no wings, and filling the air with tinkering laughter. Bede smiled through his tears, his heart overcoming how crushed it had been from losing Opal, so it can soar with them. He thought that they would leave without looking back, but then Opal briefly let go of Jasper’s hand to wave at Bede. He waved back at her and, like fairy dust, they shimmered out of sight.

Gone were the days that Bede had to wear Opal’s oversized Gym jerseys. Now he had his own that fit him. It felt strange no longer having to tie the extra length behind his back. He used to hate looking at himself in the mirror, finding the bright pink and blue ridiculous on him. But now, on the first day back to the Gym since Opal was laid to rest, Bede saw glowing, shameless pride in his reflection.

He emerged from the changing room, bypassing the clamor of the lobby to head backstage. Voices from Diantha, the stage crew, and actors drifted into his ears. Pen and clipboard in hand, the Kalos Champion-turned-theatre manager asked for another lighting test when Bede walked in.

She waved at him. “Leader Bede, you’re ready for your match with the newest challenger?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied. “And how’s preparation for the play coming along?”

“So far so good. Everyone’s excited to have an audience fill the theatre again.”

“Count me in that crowd.”

Both the Gym and theatre had to close during the days following Opal’s death. The backdrop behind him and Diantha switched colors as the lighting was being tested. Bede noticed that Diantha, with her stylish white blouse, pale blue eyes, and short brown hair darkened by distorted lighting, didn’t look too different from Opal in her younger days. His chest twinged at the nostalgia.

“You’re coming to the premiere later tonight, mon cheri?”

Diantha’s Kalosian accent brought Bede back to the present day, and he shot a broad grin at the young woman he came to know and love as a big sister. “You bet I am.”

“Glad to hear it.” She gave him a good-hearted pat on the back. “Now go break a leg out there, Gym Leader!”

Bede left backstage to make his way to the other side of the Gym. He never got a direct answer out of Opal on what pink meant to her. Not that she would just hand him the answer so easily, anyway. He spent his walk mulling it over. The last time she had seen the most pink in anyone before him was in her son, Jasper. He had seen what that boy was like before his life was cut short, and what he was like if his life had been allowed to run its course. That bright, bouncing little boy had charmed everyone around him, much like a Fairy type Pokemon, and had charmed his mother most of all. Bede then considered himself: not exactly steeped in charm, but brimming with promise and potential that Opal was able to spot before he could. Yes, that must be what pink had meant to her. Promise and potential to inherit her legacy. Jasper couldn’t live long enough to fulfill it, but Bede would take his place.

“Keep thinking about the right answer,” Opal liked to say, “and eventually you’ll create the right answer.”

That cryptic favorite saying of hers would make people throw up their hands in frustration, because no one could make heads or tails of her impish ways. But Bede knew what she had meant, and remembering that saying stirred in him such warm fondness for her that he stopped at the entrance to the stadium to wipe at his eyes before being noticed by the audience or the Rotom camera.

He squared his shoulders and drew in a deep breath before striding into the spotlight. Cheers flooded the stadium. Bede soaked it in and let it wash away any performance anxiety that might’ve built up from his walk. He approached the Gym challenger, a girl he guessed to be thirteen or fourteen, in the middle of the arena. She was decked out in dark, studded clothes. A local from Spikemuth, maybe?

She opened her mouth, and the rough way of talking confirmed his guess. “All this cotton candy Fairy type aesthetic is makin’ me sick, y’know. I’ll kick your soft, pink, sissy team to the curb!”

A saucy Fairy-bashing lass, Opal would call her. Probably smug from the string of Gym victories up to this point, too. Bede kept his cool and only gave the challenger a jaunty Opal-esque smile. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss Fairy type Pokemon.”

After that brief obligatory exchange at the center of the arena, Bede turned away to reach his side of the stadium. The Gym holding its first match since Opal’s funeral resulted in a massive turnout. Shots from the Rotom camera projected on the big screens revealed familiar faces among the audience: Professor Magnolia, Sonia, Victor, Gloria, Hop, the current Champion Leon and the former one, Mustard. And of course, Bede’s fellow Gym Leaders. They all showed up to give him their support for his first steps taken without Opal’s guidance. His heart swelled in appreciation for all of them.

Bede glanced up at the audience on his way, and nearly stopped in disbelief. Standing by the rails, seemingly invisible to the crowd sitting behind them, was Opal and her family. She carried her baby daughter while Roger had Jasper propped on his shoulders.

“Put on a good show, my boy,” Opal called down to him.

Somehow, despite the roar of the audience, Opal and her family cheered for Bede the loudest. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he blinked hard. The tears went away, and with them, Opal’s family. His wide, confused gaze lingered where they had vanished, but they didn’t reappear. Was it just his imagination? Bede shook his head. He turned to face the challenger and close his fingers around the first Poke ball in his belt. No, they were there, even if he couldn’t see and hear them all the time. Opal promised that she would never be too far.

That sent a surge of comfort and confidence through him. The new Gym Leader of Ballonlea Town, Opal’s successor, extended the ball of his first Pokemon with a flourish at his challenger. “I’ll show you how marvelous Fairy type Pokemon can be!”

Notes: Musical inspiration for this chapter/epilogue: “The Place Where Wishes Come True” from Clannad.

That’s it for La Vie en Rose! I really enjoyed writing about Opal and Bede. There’s just something really sweet and poignant about the old and young forging a strong friendship. I wrote this story shortly after my dad died in January 2020. I invested a lot more emotional energy into this than I thought I would. I’m grateful that I did. This is the 1st multi-chapter fic I’ve completed in a very long time (I’m talking years), so I came away feeling victorious. Thank you for following this story to the end.

#pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #swsh opal #swsh bede #pokemon opal #pokemon bede #opal pokemon #bede pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fic #pokemon la vie en rose

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edgeofmyniall · 5 years

Text

seven

Niall turned the key and the front door swung open to the wafting smell of bacon filling his nostrils. The atmosphere in the home wasn’t warm from the overflowing love or the running stove, Niall could sense something was wrong.

The heat in the house was anger.

He knew in his heart that his curly haired daughter would be standing in the kitchen completely furious as she flips over the pieces of bacon in the frying pan. His footsteps were heavy with each step he took, dreading the turn of the corner into the kitchen. He heart sank as he saw Mack turning bacon.

“Mack? You okay?” Niall stood in the doorway hoping his son was only mad at the fact that he hadn’t come home last night.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Mack was short with his answer. He was never short with anything; even his short stories dragged on. Niall turned to walk out of the kitchen, but Mack spoke again stopping Niall in his tracks.

“Mags is still asleep. How could you forget?” Niall turned back around to see his son in near tears. “How could you...how did you forget?” Mack let the tears fall down as he threw the spatula down on the ground. Mack balled his fist and began to hit the wall closest to him. “How could you fucking forget Dad? HOW?”

Niall’s heart sank as the day dawned on him. It was November twenty-fifth- the anniversary of Iz’s death. It’s not that he had forgotten, it’s just that he hadn’t thought much about it since spending time with Rachel. Rachel was his distraction of his broken heart, but somewhere along the way, Rachel glued the pieces together. Niall reached out his arms to hold his son, but Mack refused to move.

“I didn’t forget, kiddo. I just been spending time with Rach, and I-”

“You spent the night with her knowing that Mom’s anniversary was today! What the fuck Dad!”

“Hey,” Niall shouted. He never raised his voice at his kids, even if he felt like it, but Mack cussing at him sent him on another level. “I will NOT be talked to like that by my own son. I do NOT need to validate my actions to my children, and I will NOT be talked to like this in my own house! Do you understand me?”

Mack slumped to the floor, tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt alone in this house and it was stifling. Smoke from the burnt bacon rose and Niall quickly took the pan off the burner. He sat down next to Mack and hung his arm around him, pulling him close. Mack went limp in his father’s arms and all he could do is hold on to his dad’s shirt as he cried.

“I know, I know,” Niall’s soft voice comforted his son. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Rach needed help on her house, and it got late. I’m so sorry.”

“Does she…” Mack sniffled, “Does she make you happy?” Niall sighed and he kissed Mack’s head. “Yeah, she does. She’ll never be Mom, but she helped me find myself again.”

“Who did?” Mags stood in the doorway, soaking in the image of her father comforting her brother.

“Rachel…” Mack sighed. He lifted his head from Niall’s arm and looked at his older sister. He was not one to cry in front of her. He had to be the strong one, the one Mags could lean on when she needed it, but now, more than anything, Mack needed a hug from his sister. And like the theory of twin telepathy, Mags knew this. She waltzed over to her brother, and after sitting down on the linoleum, she hugged her brother tight.

“Figured that’s who you were talkin’ about,” Mags said, letting go of her brother. “That’s why I texted her to come over later. Dad,” Mags looked at her father with a seriousness that could not be bypassed. “You need to ask her. You know to make official and everything. It’s not real until it’s on Facebook.”

“Dear God, when did everything get so complicated?” Niall asks, running his hands through his messy hair. “It used to be, you dated or you didn’t, not this “we’re talking” crap. You kids these days.”

Laughter filled the room for a moment before silence took over.

“Mom would want you to be happy,” Mack said, so sure that his mother is happy seeing Niall happy. “Today’s the perfect day to do it.”

“Well, let’s get to it then,” Niall smiles as he gets up from the floor, his hip popping.

The entire day the family decorated the house with homemade signs and posters. The three of them took a trip to the local crafting store, and found the reds, purples, greens, and yellows that they needed to make the house stand out. It took most of the day for the family to prepare for Rachel’s arrival.

She pulled into the driveway as the sun was setting and noticed not a single light was on in the house, which is not the norm for the Horan household. She parked and turned off her car before getting out cautiously. She knows today is not a good day for the family, but they would not have left her in the dark about the plans of leaving, would they? When she came upon the front door, she saw Mags’ handwriting on a piece of notebook paper, saying, “IT’S OPEN”.

She slowly opened the door, the foyer almost pitch black.

“Hello? Uh, Niall? Maggie? Mack? Anyone?” Rachel called out. A single flashlight appeared on the wall closest to the TV. It fluttered about the painted drywall before landing on a single stack of the Harry Potter series books on a stool in the middle of the living room. Rachel stood confused, and when she didn’t move, Mags half whispering-half yelling told Rachel to go towards the light.

“You gotta go to the light, Rachel. Or you won’t get your surprise!”

“Shut up Mags, you’ll freaking ruin it.” Mack yelled not caring if Rachel found him.

Rachel made her way towards the light looking around half-heartedly for the family. “Okay now what?” Rachel asked when she found herself standing next to the books.

“You gotta open them!” Mags squealed too excited for any containment. Rachel smiled and opened Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Inside was a brown envelope addressed to Ms. Rachel Miles. She opened the letter and suddenly the lights in the house came on. The walls were decorated with colors of each Harry Potter house and there sitting on the couch was the family of three dressed in their Harry Potter house uniforms.

Mags wore a blue and bronze tie, Mack wore a red and gold scarf, and Niall wore a bowtie in yellow and black stripes. They each smiled at Rachel who couldn’t contain her joy. Mags jumped up from the couch and hugged Rachel tightly. She whispered, “Read the letter, please.”

Mack got up and hugged her as well, but he couldn’t whisper to save his life. “Please say yes.”

Curious, Rachel opened up the envelope and donned with the Hogwarts symbol, she read the letter aloud:

“Dearest Rachel Miles,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Horan Home of Niall and the twins. Enrollees shall be required to report to the Headmaster Niall. We await your answer no later than today the 25th of November.

Please accept this invitation to the Horan House as the Assistant Headmaster where your duties shall be: loving each of us and making Niall happy.

We very much look forward to receiving you as part of our family.

Sincerely,

The Horans.”

Rachel looked up with tears swelling up in her eyes as she took in this small family hoping and praying that she will accept their request to be apart of the family. Her heart beat fast as Niall smiled so earnestly.

“If you’re confused, Dad wants you to be his girlfriend,” Mags said, clearing any confusion.

“Yeah, I know,” Rachel smiled. Niall stood and held Rachel’s hand.

“So will you join the Horan Home?”

“Well… I don’t know. Are the courses hard? Will there be food?” Rachel smiled.

“It’ll be extremely challenging, but so worth it.” Niall laughed. He kissed Rachel on the cheek.

“Of course, I’m always up for a challenge.”

#niall #niall horan #niall fic #niall horan fic #niall fanfic #niall horan fanfic #niall imagine #niall horan imagine #the tide

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ancientbooshartifacts · 5 years

Text

White Wedding

Author: Beansidhe_Baby

Year: 2008

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Howard/Vince; Rudi/Spider; Anthrax/Ebola; Neon/Ultra; Naboo/Bollo; Saboo/Tony Harrison; onesided Old Gregg/Howard; Mr Susan/Sandstorm; the Hitcher/Old Gregg

Vince was having a minor make up crisis, there was a smear of mascara on his upper eyelid, on top of several layers of carefully blended eyeshadow. He sighed in exasperation and wiped his right eye clean and started again. This was supposed to be the best day of his life and the bloody eye makeup let him down at the last gasp. There was a soft knock at the door and Naboo came in without waiting for him to open the door. “I was sure I locked that,” Vince said, looking over his shoulder at Naboo. “I'm a powerful shaman, Vince. And there's a spare key on a hook out there,” he said flatly, “How's it going?” “I'm going to look like a slapper in my wedding photos, but, other than that, fan-bloody-tastic,” Vince muttered murderously at his own reflection. “We all think you're lovely,” said Naboo, in a rare moment of flattery. “Well I look like a lovely slag. Howard's parents are going to think he's gotten me pregnant or something...” “You're a man, Vince,” Naboo reminded him helpfully. “Oh yeah. Men still don't have babies, then?” “No.” ~-~-~-~-~-~- “Is this straight?” Howard asked anxiously, tugging at his bow tie. “No,” said Bollo without looking up from his magazine, “Vince a man.” “The tie, Bollo. Is the tie on straight?” Howard asked again. “Nobody look at you. Precious Vince radiant bride. Groom. Radiant bridegroom.” Bollo said off handedly, flipping through his magazine. “I don't want to let the side down. If this goes on crooked I'll have to look at Vince wincing at the photos every anniversary for the rest of my life.” “If Vince love you when you look like that, he won't care about ties” Bollo sighed, closed his mag and got up to fix Howard's bow tie for him. “Thanks Bollo,” Howard smiled nervously. “Break his heart and I'll kill you.” “Yes sir.” ~-~-~-~-~-~- “Bridegroom or groom?” Lester asked an empty patch of air next to the guest. “I'll find my own seat, squire,” the mysterious green gentleman said, brushing past the blind man. He meandered around the pews before sitting himself down beside a tall man with a large afro who was staring at a man with an equally strange hair style “relieving” himself in the vestry. “Which of the grooms are you with?” the green man asked him. Rudi turned around and seemed to see the other man for the first time. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly, “My mind was elsewhere.” “What's up with the dress then, son?” the Hitcher, for it was of course the manwitch himself, asked. “Actually, that's a common misconception, this is not a dress, it's the robe of th-” Rudi started to correct him before he was interrupted again. “So you a nonce then?” the Hitcher cut across him, with an ever decreasing amount of tact “I am above base sexual desires,” he sniffed. “Oh so he won't let you then?” “I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.” “Mexican bloke? Uglier than a sack of pigs anuses? He's here with you isn't he?” “Excuse me, I have to go and speak to... anyone else.” ~-~-~-~-~-~- “I don't trust them, they're stealing our look.” “They look nothing like us!” “Look at her with her bloody milky lens. She's wearing your face! Doesn't that get you pissed off at all?” “Getting me a bit randy actually.” “If you're unfaithful to me I'll kill her and make you eat her heart.” “Christ, you're hot when you're jealous.” ~-~-~-~-~-~- “Are they still staring?” “...no” “They are still staring, aren't they?” “...maybe” “Why are we here again?” “We promised Naboo.” “Bloody Naboo.” “Play nice, darling” “One double date with them and we're part of this bloody extended family of theirs.” “Free champagne at the reception though. And besides, everyone knows that sex after a wedding is the best. Except for the poor sods getting married obviously.” “Those electro girls are freaking me out. The little one keeps making stabby hand gestures.” “Little? She's the same height as you!” “Shut your mouth!” ~-~-~-~-~-~- Bryan Ferry was waiting to walk Vince up the aisle. He peeked around the corner at the crowded room. It seemed to be largely made up of scene kids looking fashionably bored, slightly nervous jazz fans and a much bigger selection of various monstrous beasts. In the corner a man made out of sandpaper was discretely chatting up a man made of chamois leathers and jay cloths. He was feeling nervous. He wanted to be back in the forest with trees surrounding him on all sides. He'd sniffed his son's mother-in-law to be, on the neck, and it had all gotten considerably awkward. That would be interesting at the brunch for the close family tomorrow morning. ~-~-~-~-~-~- Vince walked straight forward and all of a sudden, everything else fell away. He forgot about guest-lists and flower arrangements and his hair, and all he could fit into his world view was Howard waiting for him at the end of that long walk. He hadn't seen what Howard would be wearing, they'd decided that they'd already had three lifetimes share of bad luck resulting from broken traditions. He had actually worn a suit. He'd been threatening to wear a Hawaiian shirt and shorts and Vince had been only just sure that he was joking. Vince himself was wearing an elaborate lacy tunic over a pair of knee length leggings. He hadn't felt comfortable in either a morning suit or the white dress so he'd settled for some kind of a mix of the two. He wasn't sure if the result was genius or just bizarre. The way Howard was looking at him, he didn't think it mattered anymore. ~-~-~-~-~-~- “You may now kiss the bride...groom,” Dennis said finally and looked eagerly at the blushing newly-weds. Howard shyly kissed Vince on the lips and Vince threw his arms around his neck. A plaintive cry went through the church and they broke apart to see Old Gregg sobbing onto the Hitcher's shoulder. “Don't worry about him,” Vince whispered, seeing Howard's slightly guilty expression, “He'll get some cock afterwards. Everyone loves the broken hearted ex-girlfriend at a wedding.” “We never actually went out per se, Vince. He kidnapped me,” Howard replied quietly, into his husband's hair. “You look beautiful,” he said, cupping Vince's face in both hands. “You're not so bad, yourself,” Vince giggled, “Not as good as me, obviously, but I think Gregg won't be the only jealous bitch wishing me dead by the end of the night.” “Get in me wheelbarrow, you cheeky vixen.” “I was always in your wheelbarrow, Howard. I was just waiting for you to bloody notice.” They kissed again. ~-~-~-~-~-~- Naboo was dancing by himself in the middle of the floor, pulling focus from everyone else, including Bob Fossil (who no one could quite remember inviting). He was intermittently accosted by small groups of girls who would whisper in his ear. Each time he would shake his head and they'd walk off, looking deeply disappointed. He was off his tits on free champagne (which wasn't all that free, considering that he was paying for the bulk of this wedding) and a couple of twelve skins he'd smoked in the jacks. He noticed Howard and Vince cuddling, or possibly even canoodling, in the corner and suddenly thought that going over to them would be a fantastic idea. “Howard! Vince! You got married,” he smiled widely and hugged them both enthusiastically. “Why aren't you dancing, it's brilliant! All these girls keep asking me if I want to have a good time, but I'm already having a good time, what're they like? Hey, hey guys whose name are you taking? Or are you going to double bar it? Like Noir-Moon or Moon-Noir. Bollo doesn't have a last name, you know.” Vince was looking around desperately for the aforementioned ape to get Naboo to go and have a little lie down somewhere and Howard was looking at Naboo with concern. “Hey Howard,” Naboo leaned in conspiratorially, “I always liked you. You're a good man-thing-horse. Thing.” Howard patted him on the shoulder and he staggered over to one side. “How come the room's moving? Am I paying for a moving room?” he said before falling backwards into his familiar's arms. He looked up and giggled. Vince smiled at Bollo, who grunted shortly and led Naboo over to one of the couches around the periphery of the room. He lay him down gently and when he tried to leave, Naboo pulled him back, almost on top of him. ~-~-~-~-~-~- “Look at that idiot making a complete arse of himself. I tell you Saboo, it's an outrage!” “The only outrage here is that I was talking to a number of lovely ladies and then you insinuated yourself into the conversation and told them all that I was here with you!” “You are here with me. You're the designated driver, you're here with all of us. If you go off with some bird, who's going to get us back? Kirk? He's worse than Naboo! And I haven't exactly been on orange juice all night either.” “Are you trying to imply that you could operate an automobile if you hadn't been drinking yourself into oblivion? I would pay good money to see you even shift gears.” “What? This is an outrage! Who are you? Jeremy Clarkson?” “You had no right to let those girls think that I was shagging a testicle shaped balloon animal.” “As if, you couldn't have me even if you weren't a prize tit” “I could too, have you. You're aching for me.” “Somebody's dreaming.” “I COULD HAVE YOU TWELVE WAYS FROM SUNDAY, YOU KNOB!” ~-~-~-~-~-~- “Alright, I'm going to toss the flowers!” Vince called out before a tide of womenfolk materialised around him. In the front, jostling for position, the goth girls and electro girls were trying to look casual and unbothered by it. Neon and Anthrax were glaring at each other while Ultra and Ebola conveyed their exasperation to each other with a shrug and a wink. Beside them, Mrs. Gideon was preening and smoothing her hair. Somewhere in the middle of the sea of girls, Eleanor, was managing to make every single man in the room anxiously down drinks and pray. Howard looked at the throng of women treading on each other's toes and jabbing elbows into ribs, with horror. This looked like a riot in the making. Decades of feminism and “doing it for themselves”, whatever "it" was, went out the window in the face of a bride(groom) throwing a bunch of flowers. It was absurd! He thought he saw Old Gregg in there somewhere.... The bouquet arced through the air, over the heads of the crowd, and the room was filled with the sound of fifty women (or close approximations) breathing in sharply. The flowers landed, with a soft rustle, in a pair of small hands. Naboo looked down at the flowers in his hands and back up at the murderous glares of the disappointed women. His cheeks turned red and he looked down again before thrusting the flowers towards Bollo. “'Sfor you,” he muttered. Bollo starting to eat an orchid before looking at the shaman's shining eyes looking up at him. Oh. He swallowed nervously and the Orchis saccifera caught in his throat. Naboo patted him on the back until his familiar stopped choking and shyly took his hand. The crowd of females looked less inclined to riot and some were blowing their noses and dabbing their eyes genteelly. ~-~-~-~-~-~- In the back of the hired limo, Howard and Vince necked like teenagers after a dance. Or, like two people who had just gotten married. “Made it,” Vince sighed and nibbled Howard's ear lobe, sending a gust of warm air into his husband's ear. “Just about,” Howard agreed, kissing the inside of Vince's wrist. “I still think we should have eloped and gotten married by Bowie,” Vince said against Howard's throat. “Naboo would have killed me if I took you away and robbed him of organizing the party.” “Cheeky little jack of clubs. D'ya think he had that planned with the flowers?” “He looked pretty surprised. I think it might have been a happy accident.” “I didn't think much of those wedding cake dollies. I looked hideous!” “Well, don't say anything to Leroy or you'll hurt his feelings.” “Oh alright. Howard?” “Yes, little man?” “I love you.” “I love you too.” “Pity Bono had that other party to go to...” “Vince?” “Yes?” “Shut your face.”

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hitchell-mope · 5 years

Text

(First film. Introduction to the dormitories and the first heist attempt)

Doug: So you got your basic amenities. En-suite. Walk in wardrobe. Entertainment system. On the coffee table are your new phones. Tomorrow you have a free period before your um

Jay: remedial goodness lesson.

Doug: yes. Sorry.

Mal: eh not your fault.

Doug (squeaky voiced with emotion): that’s the first time someone’s said that to me

Evie: yeah ok. Bye bye.

Doug: wait wait wait. Before your lessons tomorrow go to the IT department they’ll set you up to the schools database. Internet apps the cloud. Oh. And though it may be really tempting you might wanna stay off social media for a while. People tend to be cruel

Carlos: eh it’s nothing we can’t handle. We’ve dealt with cruelty before

Doug: pissed off heroes are a whole different breed to

Mal: the villains that raised us?

Doug: uh yeah. So anyway. On a school day you need to be inside you rooms by nine and asleep by twelve preferably

Jay: I can deal with that

Doug: PM not AM

Jay: ah

Doug: on the weekend you can stay up as long as you want provided you are rooms

(Evie shrieks)

Mal (sighing heavily): what now

Evie: these drapes are just darling

Mal: nobody cares but you

Evie: just because you have no taste magenta

(Mal’s eyes start glowing. Jay rushes to intervene. Carlos spins Doug around so he isn’t watching)

Carlos: So The IT department. Do they have a club?

Doug: yeah they meet every Saturday at noon. A buffet lunch is provided.

Carlos: who do I have to sell my soul to so I can join.

Doug: I don’t take souls or firstborns. Just show up and sign the sheet. Oh that reminds me. The other weekend electives are chess club, which I also run and hold immediately after IT club, sports, cookery and library assistance

Carlos: chess club? (Whispering to himself) I love this place

Mal: dibs on the library

Doug: wow. Nobody ever chooses the library. Usually we have to strong arm them into it

Mal: well I like books

Doug (already liking the four): alright then. Remember. Ben and I can help with anything you need. Room service is speed dial 8 on your dormitory phones. Your senior advisor for this term is Abigail Sweet the daughter of the schools doctor Joshua Sweet. Jay Carlos. If you would come with me I’ll show you your room

Carlos (practically giddy): I get to room with Jay?

Doug: yep

(Carlos lets out a happy cackle)

(Later that night. In the guys room)

Evie: ha ha we have a bath you don’t

Mal: they can use ours if they want

Evie: I hate you.

Mal: I’m sorry is that supposed to affect me?

Jay: anyway. I couldn’t get any information out of Doug.

Carlos (playing a video game): yeah. Sorry. My bad. I just really like chess and computers.

Mal: you never need to apologise

Evie: of course. The prodigal son.

Carlos: yeah yeah. I’m perfect you’re inconsequential. Get over it. Anyway Mal. What do we do first

Mal: book?

Jay: are you asking or telling

Mal: telling?

Jay: C could you get the mirror and the book. They’re on the bed that’s already reeking of Evie’s ambergris

Evie: it’s perfume

Jay: what do you think perfume is made of

Mal: eau du monstro

(She and jay high five)

Evie: yeah yeah I smell like whale carcass. Can we move on please?

Jay: sure

Mal: first we should uh. Locate the wand. I guess

Jay: mirror time

Evie: I know I know. Magic mirror/in my hand/where do we find the fairy godmother’s wand stand?

Mal: the...moozum? What’s a moozum?

Carlos: museum Mal.

Mal: ohhhh. Thank you Carlos

Jay: let’s go

(He takes them there in a puff of gold smoke)

(At the museum)

Carlos: oh crap there’s a guard

Jay: oh you’re kidding me

Evie: what?

Jay: I think this might be Mal’s area of expertise. Take a look

(Near the guard is a spindle and spinning wheel)

Mal: ah fuck. Ok let’s see now.

Jay: Mal, I believe it’s your turn

Mal: let’s see let’s see let’s see. Ah here it is. Destroy thine enemy/bring unto them pain/cancel out their heart/to ensure thy reign

(The guard gives a few sputtering breaths. Then nothing)

Evie: way to crap out magenta

Mal: you know what. I think I could swap your brain for his. Or replace it with a grain of sand. Cause that would help so much more than your unneeded comments

Jay: in other words. Shut up Evie. And let Mal do her thing. Any other ideas.

Mal (leafing through the book): not yet. Hmmmmm. Oh! Here it is. Prick the finger/prick it deep/send my enemy off to sleep

(The guard goes to touch the spindle. But hesitates)

Mal (voice quiet but powerful and reverberating through the guards head): touch the spindle. Touch it I say!

(The guards asleep)

Evie: you do sound so much like your mother mag

(Mal, unimpressed, plucks a strand of hair from Evie’s head)

Evie: owuh! What the fuck was that fit?

Mal: grey hair sis. See. Although now two will grow in its place. Like the hydra

Evie (tailing behind the others): at least the hydra had the good sense to be buried under a rock slide

(Once inside)

Carlos: So I’ve dismantled the cameras. And we know where it is. But we don’t know where it is

Mal: good boy. And nope. No we don’t

Jay: hold on

(He closes his eyes and takes and deep breath. He glows gold a second. Then stops)

Jay: down the hall. C’mon

(Halfway through the museum Carlos stops)

Jay: you ok bud

(Carlos starts hyperventilating)

Mal (rushing to him): hey. Hey hey hey hey. Hey. It’s ok what’s wrong

Evie: they’re here. Why are they here. Ooh I’m sorry I ate dinner mother

Mal: what is it-oh fuck

(They’re looking at statues of their parents. Jafar in genie form. Grimhilde as queen. Cruella after the car chase. And Maleficent, green skinned and smoke enveloping her)

Jay: what the. What the FUCK are they doing here

Mal: they’re statues. Wax. I think.

Evie (hissing): that doesn’t make it better!

Mal: hey jay. Could you take Carlos outta here please. I kinda need to be alone for a minute

Jay: sure. C’mon buddy

(He carries Carlos away)

Evie: what do you need a minute for? Oh I think I’m gonna throw up.

Mal (not really paying attention): there’s a bathroom. Up the hall and to the right

(Evie runs off. Mal eyes glow and she starts breathing heavily as emerald green flames lick at her feet then she screams and the flames explode and surround her. Then they stop and she collapses on her hands and knees)

Mal: why are you still looking over my shoulder? You know I won’t fail. So I do not need you looking over my shoulder from HUNDREDS OF MILES AWAY!!!!

(She weeps. Then pulls herself together forgetting that no one can see her. She stalks over to the inscription)

Mal: what the hell?

(This is how “when you’re evil” starts. After the song. Mal is passed out on the flagstone floor. Carlos and jay and kneeling over her. Carlos is worriedly shaking her trying desperately to wake her up)

Carlos (nearing tears): M. M please. Please wake up. Please. I need you to wake up. Jay. Try it again. Please try again

(Jay uses magic to summon water from a nearby drinking fountain and splashes Mal’s face. It doesn’t work. Carlos breaks down in sobs and clings to Jay. This makes Mal wake up)

Mal: what happened? How long was I out for?

(Carlos, still crying, throws his arms around Mal who returns the hug)

Mal: hey, hey buddy it’s ok. I’m ok. Look at me. I’m fine

Carlos (tears streaming down his face): I can’t be alone. I don’t want to be alone

Mal: you’d still have jay. And Evie.

Carlos: it’s not the same

Evie: hey guys I think I found it. Oh god what happened?

Jay: Mal was out cold. We couldn’t wake her

Evie (now cottoning onto the reason why Carlos is crying): oh. But she’s ok now.

Mal: yeah. I am. I must’ve passed out when I burned the room. So why doesn’t it look burnt?

Jay: I fixed it. Covering our tracks.

Mal: take us to the wand then

(Evie teleports them to the stand)

Mal: Carlos. It’s ok if you don’t want to.

Carlos: no. No. I’m fine. I can do it. Umm. Force field. I think. Not exactly weapons grade cause, you know, what is, but I think someone with like low level magic can get through

(They all look at Evie)

Evie: I hate you all

Mal: same. Now go

(Evie heaves a heavy sigh. She passes under the railing. Her hand gets through the force field. Next thing they know she’s thrown backwards and hitting the opposites wall. Then alarm starts)

Mal: great job indigo

Evie: next time YOU CAN DO IT THEN

Carlos (hands over his ears): how about we get out of her then Mal can murder Evie in peace!

Jay: agreed. Come on.

(The run back to the entrance. Carlos shuts off the alarm. Mal puts the guard back to sleep. Jay poofs them back to the boys room)

Evie: that was

Mal: a fucking festival of mediocrity

Carlos: I’m sorry

Mal: you have nothing to feel sorry for. Or you jay. Evie and I on the other hand

Evie: of course it’s somehow my fault

Jay: blaming each other won’t accomplish anything. But come ON Evie. Seriuosly?

Evie: you would’ve done THE SAME THING!

Jay: ya got a point

Carlos: so what do we do now.

Mal: sleep. Then. I guess we go to school.

(Evie groans loudly. Jay winces. Carlos’s face lights up)

(Elsewhere)

Ben: so how did it go

Doug: Carlos signed up for chess and IT club.

Ben: I’ve been meaning to ask. Your technologically illiterate. So

Doug: I gotta learn don’t I

Ben: fair do’s.

Doug: Mal wants to do the library work

Ben (big nervous smile on his face): so they’re settling in well. How do the like their rooms?

Doug: Evie likes the drapes. When I left Carlos was clearing out the mini fridge. And jay is a bit miffed that he has no bath

Ben: good, good and we can fix that

Doug: you know this might actually work. Strangely they seem to like me.

Ben: who wouldn’t like you? You’re amazing

Doug: well. Mal Jay and Carlos like me. I think. Evie looks straight through me.

Ben: you’re a good guy. Give her time. She’ll see

Doug: and that right there is why I’m not letting you say that ever

Ben: why.

Doug: Chad is a “good guy”. The Fanon interpretation of Captain James T Kirk of the starship Enterprise is a “good guy”. Gaston was a “good guy”. If you tell Evie that I’m a “good guy” that’s basically saying I’ll ankle chain her to the stove in shorthand

Ben: huh?

Doug: you don’t watch many romcoms do you?

Ben: only Gilmore Girls

Doug: ...Fanon interpretation of Dean Forester

Ben: OH MY GOD!!!! Oh I’m so sorry

Doug: don’t worry about it. The important thing is they feel welcome.

Ben: yes. We did good today

Doug: yes.

Ben: well. Good night. Unless of course

Doug: captain marvel or infinity war?

Ben: infinity war please

Doug: get it set up I’ll fetch snacks

Ben: yay

(In Belle and Adam’s bedroom)

Adam: I don’t like it. At all.

Belle: well it’s not up to you.

Adam: it should be. If I had my way I’d have raised taxes

Belle: knowing our son he’d tax the rich

(Adam shudders)

Belle: it’s not actually a bad idea. Least I remind you we are French after all

Adam: what’s your point?

Belle: Ben is doing what he believes is right. And I for one will not fault him for that

Adam: oh don’t you worry. Leave the fault finding to me

Belle: you are rather adept at that if nothing else. Get to your bed. I’m going for a walk

(She goes to Ben’s. She peeps into the door way to find Ben on a beanbag stonefaced)

Belle: what’s wrong?

Doug: Loki just copped it

Belle: oh. Um.

Ben: it was sad the first time. But after 18 viewings it’s a tad underwhelming

Belle: ah. How did it go this afternoon?

Ben (brightening up): it went really well.

Belle: that’s good. But don’t stretch yourself too thin ok

Ben: ok mom. Hey. Can I have a tattoo?

Belle: nope

Ben: aww worth a shot. Doug has one

Doug: it’s a birthmark. And it’s on a pick axe that I’ll inherit from my father. Not on me

Belle and Ben: I stand corrected then

Belle: boys when the movie is finished you are to go straight to bed and Doug is to go to his room. Ok

(The boys mumble in agreement)

Belle: good night

Boys: night

(Back on the island)

Grimhilde: oooh close but no cigar

Maleficent: do shut up

Jafar: what the hell did she do?

Maleficent: collapsed. Like a child having a fit

Grimhilde: then the Apple truly does not fall far

Jafar: this is true. You did have a fit

Grimhilde: may have been rage but a fit nonetheless

Maleficent: would you both like to spontaneously combust

(They stay silent)

Maleficent: good. It took sixteen years for my plan to come to fruition. And I can wait again.

Jafar: and what exactly are you planning on doing to them should they succeed?

Maleficent: separate them for good. My daughter becomes the puppet. Your son in a lamp bound to serve you. The girl married off to Westerguard. And the boy chained in his mothers abode.

Grimhilde: I adore those odds.

Jafar: and their magic?

Maleficent: expunged from their being

(Back in the boys room)

Jay: so how’d you wanna do this?

Carlos: I still don’t know why there are two beds. If I’m your roomie shouldn’t there only be one

Jay: as always you are correct C. And I have an idea

Carlos: I’m listening...

Jay: we put our stuff on the bed next to the window. We can unpack after class. And we share the bed next to the walk in wardrobe oof

(Carlos tackles him in a bear hug)

Carlos: nothing changes?

Jay: nothing changes bud

(Meanwhile in the girls room they’re fighting over who gets the bed next to the window. Evie wins by putting her makeup bag down. Mal get her revenge by getting the toilet brush and whacking it on the pillow)

Evie: that was just uncalled for

Mal: smells better then your face junk

Evie: you’re a real class act you know that right?

Mal: yes. Oh by the way. Bags-eye the bathroom from now until we leave

Evie: SHIT!

(Mal cackles)

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

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pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles · 5 years

Text

Colour Me In (Part 10)

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Calum pulled up to Michael and Crystal's house with Eliza fidgeting in the passenger seat next to him. Kevin was picking Maggie up from work and would meet them there in a few minutes. Calum had insisted on separate cars in case Eliza got uncomfortable and wanted to leave.

He felt like an asshole for being so hesitant to introduce his girlfriend to his closest friends, but he couldn't help it. He worried she'd feel left out, but he also knew the guys would bend over backwards to welcome her. Crystal had jumped at the chance, thrilled to be the first to host Calum's girlfriend. He worried they'd embarrass him, however he knew between Kevin's big mouth and Eliza's questions she was very aware of his past. That didn't stop Calum from hating that she knew, but he thought it was better that she'd found out early. He knew he was being ridiculous, but when it came to Eliza he was scared and overprotective even if he didn't know why.

Calum pushed those thoughts aside when there was a knocking at the car window. Luke had popped up out of nowhere and was opening Eliza's door and helping her out of the car.

"Hi, I'm Luke. It's nice to meet you," Luke signed and Eliza beamed at him.

Luke was stunned at how pretty she was. He'd seen pictures and Maggie was cute as hell, but this girl was radiant. No wonder Calum fell so hard.

"Hi Luke, nice to meet you… finally," Eliza signed as Calum came up next to her.

"Calum didn't want his idiot friends scaring off his girlfriend," Luke grinned at her and Eliza was impressed. She remembered Calum telling her Luke had been practicing with him.

"She's here, she's here," Calum heard Michael shouting from the house as Luke chatted with Eliza.

Calum scanned the street and driveway recognizing most of the cars. Crystal did most of the planning, inviting the guys, a few close friends and even a couple of her girlfriends so it wasn't a total sausage fest. Maggie and Kevin pulled up and followed them into the house.

The party was already going but Calum knew they were waiting for the guest of honor. Crystal had gone all out. Eliza noticed a separate cooler away from the beer stocked with her favorites. Crystal told them that there was no pork in anything and the chicken and beef had even come from a halal market so they were welcome to help themselves.

Calum and Luke led the girls around and introduced them. Kevin, who already knew most of this crowd, was already cracking a beer with Connor and Roy.

Michael came up to them, one very excited person followed by two very excited dogs. Fortunately Michael wasn't offended when she said hello to South and Moose first. Ashton quickly joined them, and Eliza was touched by the effort they were making to sign and talk to her. Maggie was a pro at these situations, she hung back listening and observing. She only jumped in to interpret at the signal from Eliza.

Crystal had instructed her guests to learn "hello, how are you," and how to finger spell their name. This made the introductions amusing as everyone complied and attempted to sign with varying degrees of success. Calum watched as Eliza and Maggie got to know his friends. Kevin was now seated at their table along with Crystal, giving little snippets of gossip about each person.

He felt silly that he'd actually been worried about any of this. Eliza could handle herself with ease and with Maggie by her side, Calum almost felt like she didn't need him at all. She didn't, but she kept glancing his way and giving him little smiles, and each time his heart leapt into his throat.

Then Olivia, Crystal’s cousin, showed up. She introduced herself to Eliza and then glanced up meeting Calum's eyes. Calum’s guts twisted and his mouth went dry. Olivia, thankfully, started back towards Crystal. The interaction did not last long, but that was enough Just that moment Eliza looked back at him, and he watched her read his expression and her smile faded. She knew. Calum felt himself flush with embarrassment and irritation. He couldn't blame Crystal, she didn't know they'd hooked up. In fact, Crystal had arguments with a couple of her friends over their participation in the "Calum challenge," resulting in them not being invited today. Maggie was looking at him now, making him really uncomfortable. Fortunately for Calum Luke popped up by the table distracting Maggie and trying to get everyone to play a game of beer pong. Mags quickly agreed and Kevin joined in, but Eliza made her way over to where Calum was standing in the smoking area off the patio.

"You have a very expressive face," she signed brushing her fingers against his jaw before, "it tells on you."

"Are you mad?"he signed, raising his eyebrows. He couldn't read her expression.

"Of course not, it just caught me off guard. I don't like it, but I have to get used to the possibility that I'm going to meet girls you've slept with," Eliza shrugged, not wanting to have this conversation here. "We can talk about this later, we're here to have fun with your friends so kiss me and come over here with me."

"I'm all yours," he signed, grinning at her before bending down to meet her lips.

Eliza was much better at beer pong than Maggie resulting in Luke getting tipsy and a bit loud. After that, they sat down to eat. Michael grilled burgers and marinated chicken breasts, while Crystal set bowls of different salads at each table so the could serve themselves. Crystal managed to snag Calum for a word alone to let him know she'd figured out he'd slept with her cousin and she wasn't happy about it.

"Don't blame me if she gets drunk and starts shit," she'd told him before returning to her guests.

Ashton read the room and kept Olivia occupied. It made the party more interesting, as his friends were busy with their dates. Luke was the other one there stag, but he was flirting up a storm with Maggie. He hadn't been allowed to bring a date as his current regular hookup had also been with Cal. Ashton knew Crystal, already annoyed Olivia slept with Calum, would cockblock him with her cousin, allowing him to exit gracefully.

After they finished eating, one of the guys asked if the sisters wanted to play spades with them. Maggie suggested euchre instead, and when they agreed Calum saw Eliza and Kevin both laugh. Everyone was stunned when the girls took ten points, swiftly ending the game.

As they got ready to play again, Kevin leaned into Calum, his voice low "their mom sent them to academic camp each summer. Maggie hated being left out of anything so she pestered the older boys to teach her cards. Watch them, you're not allowed to talk at the table or use signals, but they're so slick with it. Eliza just wrinkled her nose, I'd bet money that she has a khand. Your girlfriend is a ruthless card shark, and they're gonna destroy all of your friends."

They took the next three games 8-2, 9-1, and 8-2. Calum watched with Kevin in his ear pointing things out. The way Maggie scratched her nose, Eliza letting out a sigh or biting her lip, shared glances and little head bobs, the two of them could have a conversation without a word. Kevin talked Calum into partnering up with him to play. They split the first four books 2-2 before Eliza started staring hard at Calum each time he was dealt a hand. After they won the game 6-4 Kevin flipped Eliza off laughing.

"I told you. Your face tells on you," she signed to Calum, kissing him to soothe his pride.

Ashton looked up from his phone as he realized

Olivia had actually stopped talking. She'd been mid rant about losing Instagram followers when she'd been distracted by Kevin's loud antics after losing at euchre.

She turned back to Ashton,"still can't believe that Calum actually has a girlfriend, and her of all people," Olivia sneered sipping her drink.

"What's that supposed to mean," Ashton snapped back.

"Oh come on, we both know he can and has," she smirked at him glancing down at her own body,"done better. Now suddenly he's with some chubby Arab girl? And she's deaf?" Olivia snorted derisively. "He must really be bored or is this some sort of dare like from a movie. All he's gotta do is make her the prom queen? Ooh no wait, I get it, she's a diversity hire." Ashton sat stone faced but Olivia was cracking herself up.

"Well that was rude," Ashton stood up. "How about we call an Uber and get out of here."

"You really think I'm going home with you?" Olivia smirked.

"Oh God No," Ashton's eyes went wide and he shook his head. "You need to leave before you start any shit, and I have someone better I could be doing right now."

Olivia glared at him and turned her back on him when he grabbed her wrist

"You're Crystal's cousin so I'm trying to be nice, but you don't want to push your luck," Ashton spoke through gritted teeth, noticing that Crystal and Michael were watching them.

"And if you don't mind," Olivia snatched her hand away, "I'm going to go talk to my cousin."

Ashton watched her head towards the keg on her way to Crystal. He turned to answer a question and when he turned back Olivia had detoured straight towards Calum's table.

Neither Ashton or Crystal could reach her in time before she dumped her full glass of beer over Calum's head. Calum leapt up, soaked and sputtering and spun around furious when he saw Olivia's smug expression.

"I'm not going to let you get away with ignoring me," she sneered raising her arm to slap him.

Until a strong hand closed around her wrist twisting it back causing Olivia to cry out in pain. She looked back expecting Ashton but instead found a furious Eliza flanked by Maggie and Crystal.

"If you hit him we're going to kick your ass, if you say another word we're going to kick your ass, if you don't leave right now, we're going to kick your ass," Maggie hissed at her before Eliza let go with a shove, knocking her over.

Olivia opened her mouth but Crystal put her hand up shushing her. She reached down to help her cousin to her feet while speaking softly but her voice was ice.

"I am not going to have you ruin this party any more than you have. You've made a complete fool out of yourself. You need to leave...right….now."

Crystal escorted her out to wait for an Uber and Eliza helped Calum dry off while Michael got him a shirt. Calum wanted to leave immediately but Eliza objected.

"I want to finish this game, and Crystal bought a special cake for us. Let's stay just a bit, and show everyone that bitch didn't ruin our day." Eliza was still angry, and Calum wanted to talk to her in private. However, she was right, and just then Crystal came up apologizing and very upset.

Calum let them talk while he went into the bathroom to clean up and change.

They stayed for about an hour before Calum made their excuses so they could take off. He would be leaving in a few days and he wanted some time alone with her. Maggie and Kevin stayed behind with Luke. Crystal and Eliza exchanged numbers, and Crys saved a piece of her delicious coconut cream cake her to take home.

Getting back to his apartment Duke threw himself at their ankles, overjoyed, as always, to see them.

"I'm glad today went well," Calum signed pulling her legs over his lap and rubbing them gently.

"Your friends are wonderful people. I have to send Crystal a thank you gift for hosting today. It's a shame Ashton struck out," Eliza felt him tense up underneath her.

"I thought you weren't mad," Calum raised his eyebrows again.

"I'm not mad, I'm jealous," Eliza pouted at him.

"Why?" Calum frowned at her.

"Because you'll sleep with any and every girl except me," Eliza signed it without letting herself think. The frustration had reached a tipping point, and she snapped at him.

"Kevin told me Crystal couldn't invite half of her friends because you'd slept with them. There's even an active betting pool as to who is going to bed you next. Anytime we go anywhere with your friends I'll have to wonder if the girls I meet have seen you naked. This would all be easier to deal with if I wasn't the only girl in L.A. you refused sleep with."

He stood up so fast she almost toppled into the floor, but he caught her and steadied her. Calum was angry, hurt and at a loss as to what to do.

"You really think that? I apologized for my past behavior, but I can't change it. What do you want?"

"I want to know why you don't want me..." Eliza was so humiliated and to make it worse she was crying now. "I know I'm not your typical type, but if you don't want to be with me what are we doing?"

Calum crumbled when he saw her tears. He knelt in front of her, wiping away her tears before taking her hands in his.

"Please don't cry… I want you more than I've ever wanted any other woman. You are so beautiful, but you're so much more than just a pretty face. I haven't touched another woman since that day you invited me to meet you at the dog park. I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"I can handle myself, you don't have to worry about me," Eliza told him.

"Don't you understand that's it's not you I'm worried about? I leave for tour in a few days. I can't be with you and then leave like that knowing I won't see you for months. I'm sorry, I can't do it," Calum looked away feeling embarrassed.

"I didn't realize, I'm sorry," Eliza's hands were shaking.

"I'm a little scared," Calum admitted, watching his hands instead of her. "You mean so much to me, and I'm not used to that. The thought of being away from you for months is painful. I also know how often a tour can fuck up a relationship. I want us to get through this. I want to make this work. I just need time to figure it out."

Eliza nodded and he kissed her. She kissed him back. He kissed her again, and that stayed like that trading kisses until they were both breathless and giggling.

"I want all the kisses and cuddles I can get before you go," Eliza told him. "I didn't mean to pressure you."

"You didn't, I just want to be extra careful. I need to get this right," he signed before looking her directly in her eyes. He needed her to understand.

She saw the pleading, the fear and burning behind that desire.

"We'll figure this out together," Eliza signed and Calum shifted back onto the couch pulling her into his chest peppering her hairline with kisses.

She inhaled his scent and tried to soak in the feeling of security being wrapped in his arms gave her. She still couldn't believe that he was hers. These four months were going to be hell. She wanted to enjoy the time they had until then.

"Other things?" She asked and Calum winked and nodded.

She buried her hands in his hair and kissed him deeply, determined to take care of him first. Calum insisted ladies first and by then Eliza was in no state to argue.

Beatriz looked the other way when Eliza came home the next morning, but Eliza found multiple pamphlets on pregnancy and STI's in her dresser later that day. To get her mom to relax she admitted Calum was the one insisting they wait. Beatriz nodded but then pointed to a tiny hickey on Eliza's neck narrowing her eyes and cocking an eyebrow.

"I never said anything about kissing him," Eliza signed before grinning despite herself.

Beatriz shook her head but there was a hint of a smile.

The night before he left he showed up to pick Eliza up for their dinner date. He took time to talk to everyone and Beatriz gave him a huge hug and a kiss on each cheek before her left.

"You come see me in four months," she nodded and pulled everyone back into the house so the couple could leave.

They both barely slept that night, instead she lay in his bed, wearing his t shirt and underwear and him in just shorts with their legs intertwined. Laying side by side illuminated by moonlight they stared at each other for hours endlessly touching and kissing. Calum kept brushing her hair back from her face twirling her soft curls around his fingers. Eliza's fingertips trailed over his face and neck as she left kisses on his eyelashes and nose. Calum listened to the rise and fall of her chest against his until he knew the sound her breath would make before she let it out. It was intimacy without sex.

The next morning she took several of his shirts and sprayed them with his cologne before stuffing them in her bag. She couldn't hold back the tears she clung to him. Eliza felt a bit embarrassed be how overly emotional she was acting until she realized Calum was getting just as choked up. There wasn't much time, and there wasn't much to say. They just wanted to hold on to each other until they had to let go. Luke walked in to pick him up and found them standing in the living room next to Calum's luggage. Eliza glared at him when he tapped her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I know this is hard, but we have to go," Luke signed getting a bit teary himself at their obvious distress.

Standing next to the car that would them to the airport. Calum kissed her several times on her lips, cheeks, nose, eyelids, every spot he could find. He kissed her deeply pulling her close one last time before he had to leave. He wiped tears from his eyes and kissed her hands before getting in the car.

Michael slid over next to him slinging an arm around Cal's shoulder. They stayed like that the entire drive. Calum managed to get himself calmed down and the tears dried before they pulled up to the airport.

Eliza was sitting in her car trying to compose herself enough to drive when there she was startled by someone tapping her car window. She looked over and saw a pair of friendly blue eyes, and then a note being held up.

I know how much this part hurts. Let me take you to breakfast.

Crystal smiled at her, glad Michael had the idea to go check on Eliza while they tended to Cal. Eliza nodded with a ghost of a smile crossing her face through the tears. She could get through this, and she was grateful for the help.

@wildhearthood @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @cal-puddies @itstheholls @cal-pal-cuddles @angelbabylu @1dthewantedlove @5sos-ficssmut @5-secondsofcolor @unabashedlymyself

#calum 5sos #calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood blurbs #calum fic #calum imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #michael clifford #michael 5sos #ashton irwin #ashton 5sos #deaf #Eliza #colour me in

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