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terras-domain · 1 month

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Hell for Most, Heaven for Me

Prisoner Y/N / Sister JiU (Kim Minji - Dreamcatcher)

Tags: VIOLENT STORY (murderer background y/n), prison au,prisoner y/n (reader), nun JiU, rough sex,losing virginity, dub con, sex in VERY inappropriate places (please do not do this ;-;), hint of breeding I guess

Words: 3.8k

terra's note: helloooo terra here. This one was in my mind to do for so long, I wanted to make it but I was so worried if this is allowed or nah, cuz well, for some reasons. And an extra note I kept losing my works here and there i have no idea why ;-; But anyways, I hope this I a good read for you and as always, hope you have a nice day and love you all <33

"I hereby sentence you to 10 years of life in prison, and no parole" were the words echoing through my mind, after being convicted with murder. The bus, the last vehicle I'd probably ride for another 10 years, taking me to my new home. Looking through the dusty window, I could see the cold breeze blowing east, trees bending to the right, pointing to the gigantic grey building, lacking in life in joy. "Have a good look inmate. That's your new home" the guard, sitting across the bus, looking into my eyes, knowing the emotions I'm feeling all too well. He's sent plenty of people like me here.

Get in, check into your 5 star suite and wear your fancy orange jumpsuit; that was the process I was brought to, registering myself as the new inmate in a jail I don't even want to remember the name of. Dragged like a dog towards my cell, the guard slammed the door shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts. "Enjoy your stay, maniac." A stern voice echoes the area, the guard laughing as he walks away, making me curl up on my bed. The murder, the death and crimes I did, as much as they were right to call me a monster, it was deserved. Seeing my own wife cheating with my brother, nothing in my life could prepare me for that. The kitchen knife was just conveniently close to me, it took me less than a second to have it in my hand, and another second for it to be covered in their blood. I've lost it, yet I couldn't care any less. "Fuck that bitch."

Morning arises, the guards will usually brutally beat a bell to wake us up, forcing us to hard labour, often times picking up trash on the streets whilst supervised by them. "Quit slacking, y/n! You think I'm blind?" One of the guards yelled, her voice could easily break my eardrums, it hurts. What hurts more is the fact she's a woman, the same damn species that bitch, that cheating bitch was. I clicked my tongue, looking back and was on the brink of snapping, but my conscious got the best of me. "Yes ma'am." I obediently nodded, surrendering as I continued my community service, being a mere slave to the law. I was restless, my body could barely contain the anger. A sight of a woman in itself infuriates me. Getting a little rest in the restroom, washing my face was a right call. Looking into the reflection in the mirror, staring at the wet face of a man who's fallen down a rabbit hole of hatred. My eyes darken, my body slowly shrinking yet swollen, it just didn't make sense. "What am I doing?"

My restlessness needs answers, or at least, something to sooth myself. After community service, the guards let us have our own private time, wandering around the prison to do what you want. I stumbled upon the prison's church, seems like a good place to recuperate. It's like they always say, when in doubt, find God, or I hope they do. Entering the small room, it looks nothing bigger than 4 of my rooms, and my room looks like it was designed to fit a rat. There's probably not many visitors around here, it's a home for criminals. I sighed as I sat on one of the multiple free benches, crossing myself as I began to pray. My wish to find myself inner peace, my wish to fully heal myself from my sins, and most importantly my wish to have courage to forgive what has happened in the past. My prayers were going smoothly, but it was quite bothered when I heard footsteps. "Who the fuck goes to church, whilst being an inmate?" I monologued, looking behind myself to see the figure that was walking in the holy space, and that's when my eyes felt revived, seeing something so beautiful, my mind went blank.

"Welcome child. What brings you here?" Her voice alone made me lose my tension, it felt as if I was on a cloud. I was too stunned to speak, my mind couldn't process her beauty, let alone process human words to speak. "Forgive me, is everything okay? Or-" she paused, stuttering as if she's afraid of the next words coming out of her gorgeous lips. "...are you mute per chance? I know some sign language to communicate if so." She eventually found her best words to form a sentence. Looking from her expression, it seems like she's trying her best not to offend me. Unlucky for her, my mind cleared out the clouds of delusion, behind that beauty, lays a species of humanity I would despise till my grave. "Oh no! I'm not disabled or anything. I was just, spacing out..." My eyes wide open, the sight of a maniac is what could describe my face right now but my voice sounds ever so lovely, as if my past self was doing the talking, the goody two shoes that let myself marry such a wicked bitch. My eyes scanned through the curves of the nun in front of me. Despite her body well covered, I could see how curvy and hot she is, not too thick but she definitely is an eye candy. "Oh I see. Well forgive me for bothering your prayers child. I was not here to disturb your conversation with Him. May your prayers be replied and may your life finds itself towards the right path." She gives a short bow, before moving towards the pillar, the symbol of what I believe is the place where she usually carries out her religious speech, that is if anybody is going to her speeches. What's more important though is her walk, the way her hips move left and right, showing how curvy her ass is. I couldn't hold it, my mind doesn't want to keep imagining. It wants to live it.

My legs starts to move, marching towards her from behind as I grabbed her from the back, my left arm wrapping around her midriff whilst my right on her ass cheek. "ngh- what are you doing?! Do you know where we are right now, inmate??" She questioned, her voice sounds timid as my arms venture around her body, feeling the smooth cloth of her body hiding the treasures underneath. "I prayed for lots of things, sister. Seems like God answered the call pretty soon~" I grinned, my arm groping her ass, making me grunt from pleasure, oh how long have I waited to touch a woman's ass. That bitch of a wife wouldn't let me for months, eventually I found out that cheap slut's ass is for other guys. No worries, I'll take this nun's big ass now and fuck it the way I like it!

It was heaven for me, two days in prison felt like forever, and that forever bores me. With this bitch of a nun in my hands, I can do whatever I please. "No- Aaah! Please stop, this is not the place for such vulgar actions," the woman pleads. But unfortunate for her I don't take orders from women any longer, not anymore. Rubbing my cock underneath my pants while she grunts and tries to move away. Makes me want to have her even more. Despite my joyous time enjoying the body of the hot nun, there's always things that makes things complicated. "Y/N? Where are ya? You gotta get back to your cell!" A voiced shouted from a distance. It's the guards, I thought. I had to let the nun go, letting her pure body free this time, but I'm damn sure this isn't over. The guard steps in the holy space, seeing me stand in front of the nun, smiling at her. "Y/N, your times up, get back to your cell!" He ordered, before shifting his gaze to the curvaceous woman. "Sorry Miss Minji, he's new. I guess he spent too much time praying huh?" He giggled, completely oblivious to the fact I was groping her before he crashed the party. "It's okay, sir. The inmate was just....asking me some questions. It seems he is just starting his journey to find God." She explained, and obvious lie for the both of us, but to that stupid bastard of a guard had no idea. "Oh, I see. Well hopefully this rascal doesn't bother you too much, Miss Minji." The guard laughed it off, in his face reflects confusion as he took his baton and smacks my head, making me start walking out to head back to my cell. "Now that's enough learning for today Y/N, back to your little mansion you go!" He exclaimed, making me take my steps back towards my cell.

In my own cell, my legs are crossed while I rest on the crusty old mattress. Sure it feels like I'm laying on a rock, but in my mind I couldn't felt more relieved. In my mind is only Minju, I didn't even think a second of my late wife, the horrible woman that made me commit the crimes I do today. In fact, that crime is the sole purpose I have this opportunity, and I couldn't miss it for the world. "Minji....you will be mine!"

JIU POV

Getting home to my convent, my mind simply could not brush away the thoughts of y/n. He was a sinful man, and what he did couldn't be said any worse. But for some reason, my heart is racing, it screams for more of that. Is that what sexual pleasure means? Being a holy child of God, I was never interested into indulging myself into such filthy acts, but that was too much for me to resist. Resisting in bed that night I made sure to lock the rooms of my own room, hoping the rest of the sisters to not find me in this state, in heat and about to perform such sinful acts. My body naked without a thread, as I look down, my shaven pussy dripping wet. I gulped, my thoughts conflicting between each other, but eventually it was no longer in my head. I start to slowly touch my clitoris that made me instantly let out a moan. "Aaah~!" I covered my mouth, turning down the volume of my sexual voices as I touch myself, wishing nobody will see me. My fingers kept moving on its own, now penetrating into my pussy, fingering myself. I could yelp and scream, but my hand muffled the sounds to ensure it doesn't reach anybody's ears to listen. My fingers slide in and out of my pussy, touching myself as my body tingles, it couldn't last any longer. "nghhh- noooo...aaah!" Eventually my body gave up, spurting cum all over my mattress, making me moan out load for a few seconds as my urges got the best of me. I panted, looking around my room, nothing really catches my eye, only the fact my body was so into the pleasure of getting groped and touched by a dangerous criminal who so happens to hate women. But somehow with all those issues regarding him, I want to see him again, and I want all of that again.

Y/N's POV

Days gone by, and that hot nun just couldn't leave my mind. How I want to absolutely ruin her and use her as my own personal toy, I just couldn't stand it. Unfortunately, this isn't a lavish life where everything goes my way. Prison life is as horrible as it sounds. Humiliating tasks to complete, food that even rats wouldn't dare to touch, and to top it all off, the annoyance from the shouting yappers they call guards just makes life so tense. Luckily enough, I made acquaintance with a guy that sells cigarettes for some dirty money, and it's my only pathway to maintain my sanity in this new life.

With a blunt between my lips, my footsteps move towards the holy room, a place where it's expected to find the hot chick in prison area. Creaking the door open, I could see her stood in the room just as expected, cleaning the church area. Putting out the spark on my cig, I threw it to the nearest trashcan as I drop my footsteps towards her. "Missed me, Sister Minji?" I smirked, as my footsteps echoes the room. No reply, not surprised by that. I would expect her to actually make me leave or call the guards on me to make me go back to my cell. "What you did the other day....was a sin, my child." She responded after a minute of silence. She didn't flinch nor make a step back, making it more inviting for me to come closer. As we reach closer, only an inch apart of each other, holding her shoulders as I caress them a bit. "My wife was a complete asshole, Minji..." My voice speaks out, almost like a whisper to her ears. "...and I need you, to repent her sins." As I finished, my hands pulled her in, attaching my lips on hers. Kissing her deeply, my mouth tries to get a reply from the nun, hoping she opens up a bit more. "Mmmh...nghhhh~" Minji sounded her restrains, trying to resist. Eventually however, her lips part ways as she opens up, giving me a chance to make out with her deeply. "Mmmmh~ just like that Minji. Such a good girl" I groaned, enjoying my mouth on her innocent lips. After a while of making out, I pulled away and looked into her eyes, giving her space to breath. "God, please forgive me for my acts." Her face blushes, looking down, ashamed of her acts. "God won't hear nothing from you today. Might as well just use that mouth for something better."

I held her tight and guided her to fall to her knees. With zero resistance from Minji, it was easy for me to put her down. "You wanted this, don't you?" I grinned as I undo my pants, letting down the lower half of my jumpsuit to reveal my hardening boner. "It's not like that. I-I" she was hesitant. It was obvious in those pretty cat-like eyes her mind is going back and forth trying to get an answer. Unlucky for her, no is never an answer here. My cock is already out, twitching on her face as I rest it on her smooth pale skin. And I need her innocent body to relieve all the tension building up in me. "Suck." I ordered, but her small face shook in rejection, making me sigh in disappointment. "Guess I have to do it myself huh?" I grabbed the back of her scalp, gripping it hard enough to make her yelp in the bit of pain as I stuff her mouth with my cock, pushing it as deep as I possibly can in one push. "Nghhhh~! Accckk..!" Minji screamed, muffled by my member between her pretty lips yet echoes through the room. The muffled gags and chokes excites me, making my cock grow bigger in her tight throat as I plunge in deeper. Despite being her first time doing oral sex, taking it rough the first time too, she's doing well to stay awake. Even though tears running down her eyes and her face filled with her own spit and precum, the sight is such a beauty, it made me enjoy the whole process of my hips moving back and forth skullfucking her innocence out.

A few moments of thrusting in and out of Minji's face, I finally decided to pull out, letting her have time to breathe. "Bwaaah.... aaaah, goodness." She gasped for air, trying to gain her conscious, then moving away as she expected my little game is over. "Oh Sister Minji, where do you think you're going?" I grabbed her small forearm, stopping her movements. Her eyes widen, shocked from the revelation, and her tight body was immediately brought to one of the benches in the church, where I made her hands on the seats, bending her over. If it were up to me, I would've torn her garments apart and ravish her. But that would probably cause trouble for me with the guards, so I just took off her maxi and reveal her curved ass, only covered by her white panties, stained with her own wet juices. "Look at you~ so wet down here already~" I giggled as I gave her a firm spank, making her grasp the bench and scream out a moan. "I- It was too much for me to resist." She responded, her voice sounded so fragile and submissive, making my cock throb in excitement. My hand pulled down her white panties to her ankles. Now her untouched treasure fully exposed to me, I couldn't resist the urge to give a touch on her wet entrance. My soft touch on her pure innocence made her let out a sensual moan, resulting in a big grin on my face. It's a sign she's giving in. I keep exploring, increasing my pace on her touch-craving pussy, circling around her wet clitoris, where she constantly twitched and grunted from the sensation. "Aaaah...y/n..." Her voice sounds more sensual as her body looked weaker and could barely last. That's when I start to go rough on her again, pushing my index and middle finger inside her pulsing walls. Immediately as my fingers pushed in, she immediately screamed and moaned, enjoying the sensation as her body vibrates from pleasure. "OH GOSH Y/N NOOOO!" Her reaction only prompted me to go faster. "You like it, don't you? Being a slut in God's holy space? Showing off how much of a slut you are~!" I teased, my fingers reaching as deep as they could, while her moans escalated. "No...please do not say that...it is- aaah!" The moment she started to talk back, I immediately went faster and rougher, touching her sensitive parts to cause her to create a scene in the church with her moans echoing through the room. "No- nghhhh... I can not hold it any longer! Forgive me My Lord....I'm, kyaaahhh!" Her screams ignites her climax, cumming on my fingers and wetting herself as her juices drip down her thighs.

"Haa...haaahh" The gorgeous lady panted, laying on the bench as her mind process the depurification of her body unfold in such a holy area. But her eyes kept staring at mine, not with anger nor grudge, but confusion. As if she's having a war between herself, trying to pick up words of what she might decide to do after all this. I kneeled down, my eyes level to hers as I gave her a rub on the scalp. "Tell me, Sister. What is it in your mind?" I asked, as my cock throbs, waiting for more action. Minji gulped, her mind racing around looking for a decision. Or maybe she already does, yet too shy to ask. "P-please...please have sex with me more, Y/n." She muttered, sparking joy and lust within me. "Then in position, bitch!" I ordered, giving her face a firm smack to show her where she stands now, nothing more than a little slut for me, my entertainment in my 10-year sentence. She nodded obediently, her back now on the bench as she spread her legs to show her soaked cunt. And oh God, what a sight, a religious woman completely offering her pussy to a prisoner like a cheap slut she is, nothing makes me happier. I stroked my cock as I get closer to her pussy, slowly sliding my tip in. I looked at Minji's face looking at how she's taking my tip, since this is her first time. "Aaaah.....it's so big y/n" She whined, but eventually got used to my size as her breathe starts to ease out. "Seems like you're ready for the next step." I was never planning on going easy on this ass, and I won't change my mind. My hips immediately buck back and forth, fucking her tight cunt as hard as possible. "Aaaah! Wait no ngaaaaah you are- God too rough!" Minji screamed, feeling my cock plunging in and out of her tight virgin pussy, no mercy for her first time. "Fuck do I care, Minji? You wanna get fucked don't you? Then fucking take it!" My hips got into a faster pace, going rough on her with no sign of mercy, making her scream. Although her screams were getting louder, she didn't seem to want to stop. Her arms on my shoulders, holding on me tight.

With her arms now on me, it gives me a good excuse to hold her tight and carry her up, holding her tight body whilst my cock stays inside her sweet cunt. "Fuck- you're clingy aren't you?" I grinned as I humped her body upwards, making Minji move up and down my cock, with gravity helping drag her body down to take every inch of me. "Nghhh- forgive me y/n....I can't resist it any longer. I need your penis even more now!" The way her lips moved while she speaks, it turns me on, it drives me crazy. I brought ourselves near a wall, making the slutty nun's back face the wall. It gives me an easier pathway to thrust, fucking this bitch as rough as I want while holding her by her ass cheeks. "Aaaah~! Y/N it feels so good, gaaaah~!" her moans felt like music, a sensation I longed for so many years after my wife turned into the cheating bitch she was. Those memories can now be buried, a new sensation arises, with this tight slut being mine, and mine only. My lips now crashes onto hers, kissing her deeply whilst she took my hard cock in and out easily now after a lot of rough strokes. "Mmmmh~! Fuck- Minji, I wanna cum...I wanna cum in your fucking pussy!" I grunted, my cock couldn't hold it any longer as my shaft yearns to unload itself. "Wait no- that's too dan-" without waiting her to finish speaking, I already reached my limit, my cock starts to let loose, shooting ropes of cum deep inside her pussy, filing up her womb. "Aaaaah...kyaaaah!" Minji held me tight, accepting my rewards and my sign of marking, an officiation to being my slut. It wouldn't be enough to mark her insides, my mouth aims towards her neck, kissing and sucking on it before biting on it, my fangs leaving a purple mark, a hickey as a sign of ownership. My member took her time to finish, emptying myself in her womanhood. I panted, barely feeling my legs as I quickly walked towards a nearby bench to sit, with Minju still on top and my cock still inside her. I didn't want to say a word, and so does she. Our only exchange of communication were our lips kissing, tongues clashing between on one another. Our eyes interlock as we know from this day forward, heaven felt so distant, it's beyond reachable. But this sensation, for now, is our heaven.

#kpop smut #kpop nsft #female idol smut #dreamcatcher smut #jiu smut #kpop x male reader

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ddarker-dreams · 5 months

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Unique Burdens.

Enver Gortash x F Reader.

Warnings: Dark themes™, unhealthy relationships, implied kidnapping and major power imbalances. Word count: 1k.

Where there are sparks, there can be fire.

Concentrate. Hone your thoughts. Refine them, sifting through any impurities. Ichor is woven into your flesh like threads through a hallowed loom. These threads contain arcane energy that some spend lifetimes pursuing, their noses buried in esoteric tomes.

For you are a scion of a being most high — the Lady of Love’s darling daughter.

Sune’s always had a soft spot for you, fickle as her favor may be. Whispers carried by the wind offered encouragement at the beauty your artistry brought into the world. Your mother may be distant, but so is the sun, both of which provide satisfactory warmth regardless. This distance never bothered you. So long as you were free to wield a quill, lyre, or rapier, you were content.

Indeed, her distance never bothered you, until you realized that just like the sun, celestial bodies must give way to the night.

Focus, focus, focus.

The faintest hum of the Weave resonates within. It reaches out to you, incorporeal hands longing to touch. This is it. Your chance. Your spark. It’s tentative at first, a shy reunion—

—And then it’s gone. Silenced.

Extinguished.

Your shoulders droop as yet another failure joins your ever-growing resume.

Your shoulders droop as yet another failure is jotted down.

“I never took you for a masochist,” tyranny incarnate muses from behind. “That must be it. Why else would you torture yourself so?”

“I’m no more a masochist than you are a worthy ruler.”

You try to keep your tone steady and indifferent. Regrettably, of all your artistic talents, acting is not among them. The bitterness seeps out like blood through thin gauze. He must’ve sensed a fluctuation in the ‘connection’ you share. You thought yourself subtle with your tampering, but your sentimentality betrayed you.

“Ah. That’s where you’re mistaken. There are no ‘worthy rulers,’ only rulers who make their reign worthwhile.”

“That’s your intention?”

“That’s my intention,” he mimics your cadence.

Unwilling to withstand further provocation, you whirl around, ready to slink off. Your abrupt motion proves to be a mistake. The world loses its sharpness, the outline of every object smearing together as your balance falters. A wicked throb blasts through your skull — your reward for this little rebellion. The black fabric fastened around your throat greedily swallows the meal you just offered.

Its creator steadies your body as if he isn’t the source of your malaise. His hands, covered in golden gauntlets, slither around your bicep. You’re vaguely aware of the short journey to an outdoor table set. Water rushes from the garden’s ivory fountain, the sound crescendoing into something unbearable. The evening sun feels too hot, the summer air, too humid; and the deceptively delicate-looking choker around your neck too tight.

Gortash barks out orders toward the maids here to serve ‘you.’ They scurry about, their hurried gait like that of a discovered rat colony. You sit at his behest. Commanding others is second nature to him, he enunciates every syllable with the confidence of a man who knows he won’t be challenged. No good comes from fighting it. You panic, you struggle, and then finally, you sink, succumbing to a riptide you never had a chance against.

He holds a crystal vial to your lips, which you part without prompting. It’s syrupy on your tongue, an artificial sweetness intended to make the tonic more tolerable, owing to your many complaints. Whether he adjusted the formula for your sake or his, you can’t say.

The viscous liquid stubbornly sticks to your esophagus. Eventually, you force it down.

Gortash’s elixir circulates throughout your body and soothes the tempest you incited. There’s little you know about the magic that siphons your divinity, but you do know it’s volatile. The insidious inventor sat aside his pride to explain that much. He foresaw that you wouldn’t sit pretty while he sapped your celestial power. An accurate estimate, considering your current predicament.

He recognizes your lucidity returning before you do.

“Foolish girl,” Gortash sneers. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing eye contact. The bags beneath his eyes appear darker than when you first met. You suppose you’re to blame for that. “Are you so eager to undermine that you’ll put yourself at risk?”

“What does it matter,” you reply, your glare communicating what your weary voice cannot. “Pain is all I know around you.”

Gortash releases you as if your skin scalded him.

“Pain? This? You know nothing of pain, aasimar. The word is lost on you.”

Righteous fury churns your stomach in on itself.

“Then show me!” You demand. “Show me, if that’s what it takes for you to stop flaunting your godsforsaken ‘benevolence.’ A benevolent warden! Can those two roles coexist? Or are you the one ignorant of words and their meanings?”

You fight for each breath. It’s been some time since you’ve snapped at him like this. For good reason, you think, noting the murky abyss in his eyes. Lord Enver Gortash isn’t to be spoken to in such a discourteous manner. People have had lips sewn shut and fingers unnaturally contorted for less. His cruelty isn’t random, there’s a methodology behind each stitch and snap.

Yet here you sit. Physically unharmed, adorned in fine garments, aureate bracelets, onyx earrings, and his favorite shade of rouge upon your lips. You don’t know what to make of this, you didn’t want to know for the longest time either. Should he confirm what you dread, well… at least you’ll have clarity amidst the revulsion.

He studies you like he would a defective construct he’s one adjustment away to fixing. You loathe how vulnerable you feel beneath his scrutinizing stare, that he has the means to take you apart and piece you back together.

An eternity passes before Gortash speaks again.

“... You’re frightened,” he surmises. “Frightened over what it means to be the subject of my affection.”

Your pulse quickens as the cool metal of his gauntlets brush against your hand.

“You want my wrath. The sting of a riding crop, the indignation from the welt it forms.”

The gauntlet’s tips dig into your flesh. It almost hurts, until he lessens the intensity of his grip. He’s mastered applying just the right amount of pressure to leave indents behind without breaking skin. He could break you, but he wants you whole, as proof he could conquer you at your best.

“Keep wanting, you won’t ever receive it. No,” Gortash smiles, the skin beneath his eyes crinkling from mirth. “Endure what it means to have earned my affection instead.”

#2024 is the year of objectifying old men #i'm speaking it into existence #this is just a lil something so i can get a feel for what it's like to write bg3 ....#gortash x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 x reader #enver gortash x reader #my stuff

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missfrustration · 5 months

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a psychic walkthrough (reigen x fem!reader) 18+ **WITH AUDIO, NSFW**

A/N: hi friends! this is my first tumblr post, because only tumblr can embed the audio! audio was made with elevenlabs, and will be sprinkled in with the fanfiction. feel free to play or not while you read!

tags: 18+, mdni, pwp, nsfw, first-time sex, loss of virginity, fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink, drunk, boss/employee relationship, mild dubious consent, one-night stand, saliva, talking you through it, disheveled rat man nomnom, audio fic, whats it finna play-WOAHHH

word count: 3.3k

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Drinking straight liquor tonight was not a good idea for you. It made you irrational and impulsive. You would always wake up with half the bottles empty, a killer headache, and always something to think about.

Nevertheless, you kept calling your boss, Reigen, until he picked up.

“Mph, hey,” Reigen calls out your name, voice raspy. “What do you need…? Middle of the night, y’know, we have to go to work in the morning.”

You are caught so off guard by the huskiness in his voice that your drunken mind can only freeze the words on your tongue.

His voice comes out as a growl when it calls your name again into the night. You can tell Reigen is concerned, yet you can do nothing but feel turned on by his stupid voice.

“I… uhhm.” You moan out into the night. Immediately, you close your mouth in surprise and panic-end the call before Reigen can get another word in. You slam it onto the table next to your bed and instinctively curl into yourself out of embarrassment.

You can’t even pick up your phone when it vibrates off the table–you almost booty-called your boss, for fucks sake! You know Reigen will keep bothering your line, but accepting any call could result in ratting yourself out and ruining your job position at Spirits and Such. There is no way you can do that.

You neglect the floor phone, taking a nice cold shower to forget your horned-up mind. You don’t bother gathering clothes before turning on the shower and hopping in, feeling the cool water on your hot skin. It almost relaxes you from the dirty thoughts you’ve been having. If only you could tell your boss how you feel, how you want him. Even if you haven’t lost your virginity, you’ve seen enough videos to know what you want–and boy, did you want a lot.

Okay, that’s enough thoughts about fucking your boss for one night.

After half an hour shy of meticulously cleaning every inch of your skin, you get out of the shower feeling satisfied and refreshed. Your arm reaches for the fluffiest towel you own, covering your moistened skin.

You frown at the bare shelf where you usually put a clean change of clothes, now regretting not taking the extra minute to get them earlier. However, you can’t dwell on it much when you hear a noise outside the bathroom.

You freeze when you hear constant knocking on your front door, nearly shitting yourself at the fact it’s past midnight and someone wants to see you.

“Hey, I know you’re in there!” The voice says, calling your name out.

You would prefer if that voice were foreign to you now, but you know exactly who’s at the door. You have half a mind to ignore it when you end up reaching for the knob and slowly peeking an eye into the crack.

It’s Reigen with scraggly hair, bloodshot eyes, and undereye bags. You could tell his clothes were hastily put on, and he seemed out of breath and agitated.

“Reigen?” You’re nothing less than bewildered. “Why the hell are you here?”

You open the door an inch, forgetting Reigen knows where you live. You remember him taking you home after a work party at the bar because you were way too drunk that night to get there on your own. He must’ve remembered where you were, which is both endearing and inconvenient for the time.

“Me? Are you okay?” Reigen takes the liberty of pushing open the door, concerned about your health yet oblivious to what you’re wearing.

Within the second of bursting open the door, he immediately realized why you cracked the door so narrow. Although your towel is fluffy, it’s barely enough to cover your nipples and crotch, giving Reigen the most liberal view of cleavage and legs that he could ever see.

Your wet hair drips down to the floor, and Reigen realizes what he’s walked in on. It doesn’t help that he’s already inside your house, the door now shut from his initial push. Under his quick eyes, you cannot deny the feeling bubbling up your stomach.

“Shit.” He rasps, immediately looking away when he realizes what he’s walked in. “Shit, okay, I’m sorry I- goddamn.”

He turns away his back entirely now, “I’m sorry for intruding, shit, I will–okay, I need to see myself out, now.”

“Hell no. Not when you’ve seen me like this, Reigen,” You say, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. Nevertheless, his head looks away. “Take some accountability.”

“Okay, alright, I’m sorry! You were calling, and I needed to make sure you weren’t dead.” He holds his hands to shake back and forth, then turns to you while covering his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“Oh, I…” You trail off.

He leans forward and sniffs the air, glancing to your right to see the opened liquor splayed over the kitchen countertop.

“You’re drunk?”

“I was, but I’m fine now. I promise it was no big deal. I just–”

He removes his suit jacket, “Here, before anything else, let me give you this so you can cover up.”

“No, I don’t want that.” You stop his hands that hold out the jacket, rejecting any part in it.

“What?”

“I want you, boss.” You grit. You snatch his grey suit jacket before tossing it to the floor and stepping closer.

He looks back at you and blinks a few times, shaking his head.

“No, you’re drunk. You need to go to sleep, seriously.” Reigen groans. His voice contains an edge you can’t quite name, yet he doesn’t seem at all mad.

“I’m not drunk anymore,” You sputter, “And I know what I want, Reigen. I want you. Don’t you want me?”

“Jesus, you cannot just say that to me, especially as your boss.” Reigen covers his face, peering at you between his split fingers.

“I don’t care. I want you to teach me things you shouldn’t, and I’m ready to learn.”

“Teach? Wait, are you…?” Reigen stops himself from saying any more, knowing the exact answer when you nod. Reigen stares in shock, slack-jawed in disbelief. “No, there is no way you could be.”

You ignore his remark as your face glows in heat, gripping onto the edge of the towel with a resistance that’s desperate to let go. It only takes the swipe of your hand before the towel's grip succumbs to gravity, draping to the floor to expose your entire body.

“Reigen, don’t you want me?” You seductively say.

“Yes, God, I do, alright? Now, put something on before I do something I regret, or I cannot promise this will end well.” He covers his eyes again, feeling for the doorknob behind him.

“Why don’t we test that?”

You take his tie in your clutches, using the brevity of alcohol to do your mind’s bidding. Your arm yanks Reigen over to you until he practically topples over you in a passionate and hastily kiss. At the last minute, he stops the fall by slamming his hand on the wall right over you, making your knees buckle into an awkward stance.

His lips feel so warm against yours, with both dehydrated from the effects of the long night. Chapped lips caress chapped lips, and you hook your arms on the back of his neck as your body thuds against the floor, subsequently taking Reigen with you.

You wouldn’t think he would follow you to the floor so freely, immediately towering above your deliciously bare frame. His arms are planted on both sides of your head as he takes the lead in the domination of tongues. You feel caged between the arms you work under, yet the treat that is his guidance feeds you. Your lips, which have seldom kissed before, effortlessly mesh into his as he puts his weight against you.

It’s clear what’s ahead of you and your boss, and no amount of forgetting or reasoning will cleanse your questionable business relationship to a blank slate. Right now, it’s about filling that craving for you and, ultimately, your boss. Reigen must’ve had the same thought when his lips left yours, and he started to get up.

“We’ll think about us after. Right now,” Reigen gets off you, crouching at your side before scooping you in his arms. “I’m taking you somewhere else.”

“Second door to the right,” You whisper, letting him carry you to your bedroom.

He kicks open the door, promptly placing you on top of the bed and standing back up to undo his tie. The way he rips off that pink tie you see on him every shift before plucking open his shirt buttons from top to bottom has your mind spinning, especially when his eyes drink in your body every second he’s not touching you. By the time he gets down to his boxers, he’s back on you.

“I didn’t know that drinking made you a liar. I’m sorry, but there is no way you're a virgin.” Reigen snorts, caging your body between his arms once more.

“Why is that so hard to believe, dumbass,” You mumble.

“Come on. We see each other every weekday, and I find it hard to believe that someone hasn’t put themselves between these pretty little hips before. I cannot be the only one, much less the first.” His knees nudge between your legs, slightly opening them.

“As truthful now as I am about this,” You forcefully take his hand, pressing it on your exposed, hardened nipple. His hand stays there, eyes and hands now frozen from the contact.

“Fuck.” Reigen snaps out of his hypnosis, groping your breast, taking his fingers and gently rolling the hard nipple. You pant from the foreign sensation. He watches your reaction like a dog, almost hysterical in how his eyes widen.

His mouth takes your lips with force, then follows to the neck as he nibbles down the skin, then to the apex of your breast. Reigen’s lips coddle your areola as his tongue teasingly flicks the nipple, and his hands slowly caress the small on your waist down to the wideness of your soft hips.

Reigen leans back to gaze at all your delicious curves, particularly the ones in between your legs that ache to feel him. He gently pushes your left leg to the side with his knee before sighing.

“I’m not sure it’ll fit. Not right away,” Reigen starts. “So I’ll do this instead. Do you need me to guide you?” His fingers lift, showing you what he plans to start with. The display of his fingers alone makes you tremble, yet you nod your consent.

He starts his lessons on you. The only tool he needed to show you was your body right now. You are so wet that he wouldn’t even think of lube. Not for his fingers, at least. He still felt the need to dip his fingers into your mouth.

“Lick them, and keep your eyes on me,” Reigen says.

You obey. You flick your tongue around the pads, tasting the saltiness of his skin. You’re sure he darted straight over here when he woke up from your calls. Your mouth lingers on him, lubricating his fingers with your spit until he’s satisfied.

“Take them for me. Let me know if it’s okay first.” You nod, and he dips his arm down.

One finger starts to slowly enter inside you as you shift your body at the feeling. Reigen carefully studies your body language. After a few moments of his first finger entering, he puts another in.

“Damn, nobody has ever touched you like this, have they?” Reigen asks, looking into your widened eyes as his fingers start to move. He seems almost delighted by the thought of deflowering you, causing that desire to transfer to your core tenfold.

“No, Reigen. I wanted you… to be my first.” You cannot deny the aches you suffer at night after your shifts with Reigen or the long nights you endure your lust for him, yet you would never surrender your own hands to take care of it.

“How does it feel?” His fingers gently pry your tight hole, causing your back to arch, giving Reigen’s eyes a generous view of your body.

“So, so fucking good,” You pant, gripping the wrist that invades your pussy from your lust. You make it move at a faster pace now, holding onto his arm like it’s a damn stress ball.

“Good girl. Tell me if I need to stop.”

You feel your insides writhe in you when his fingers start to curl, constantly pushing in and out of you in a calculated rhythm. He knew exactly how much this made your body hot. His constant eyes that glance down your body up to your face tell you he’s enjoying himself, yet his thoughtful eyes still check yours, ensuring you’re okay.

“You’re so wet for me.”

You can hear your pussy squelch now with your juices. All for Reigen, all for the man who pleasures you. Even then, it’s not enough for Reigen as he palms his erection through his boxers.

“It’ll be painful if we don’t use lube,” Reigen says. “Do you have any?”

“No,” You whine in between huffs.

“Shit…” Reigen mutters, slowly pulling his fingers out, assessing the liquid practically dripping down his fingers. “I don’t know if you want to go farther then.”

“We can go without it,” You whine, rubbing your legs together from the emptiness.

“Are you sure you want that?” He asks. “That’s going to be a lot for you.”

You pull him in for another delicious kiss, properly exploring his mouth before answering.

“I can take it.”

Reigen leans over you, taking his hand to thread through your fingers. He uses his other hand to free his cock from his boxers. Suddenly, you realized why he was so worried about you– over it not fitting.

“Fine. Squeeze me as hard as you need to, okay?”

You gulp down your anxiety nod, opting to replace it with your hunger from his dick as he positions himself. Reigen’s tip protrudes in between your legs; he takes his hand and starts adding pressure against your slit.

Your pussy can only take the very top of his penis before you begin to feel pain, worry bubbles in your stomach.

Almost on cue, Reigen can tell what the disturbed look you sport means, the uneven rises of your chest, and the squeezes you put on his hand.

“Breathe, pretty girl. I know you can do it.” Reigen orders.

His words cut into the pain, helping you recoup your senses as he presses on; the pain persists as you take his head, which was the thickest part of him. The pressure inside feels foreign, and the pain continues when your pussy swallows his shaft.

“You look so good taking me in. Keep going.”

His words make your pain subside when he pushes his whole cock inside you. After letting you adjust to his length, he looks into your eyes, asking if he can keep going.

“I can take it.” You repeat, blinking away the water that gathered under your waterline. You moan out, “please, Reigen.”

Reigen looks at you like he’s never seen anything so beautiful. “Good girl.” He whispers.

He’s three pumps in when you start panting like a dog, and your hand is still entwined with his as he squeezes.

“Open your mouth for me.” You instantly oblige to his request, opening your mouth with tongue hanging out.

His lips purse slightly before puckering, releasing a string of his saliva into your mouth; your eyes widen before taking the gracious liquid into your mouth, tasting it like it’s the last drops of water on Earth. You practically growl as you pull his body down to you.

“Feels good?”

He has his answer when you crash his mouth into a deep kiss, tongues exploring each other so hard that it’s scandalous. You moan out into the cavity of his mouth. “More,” you pant.

“That’s my girl.”

His arms tuck under your torso, his hands grip your shoulder caps, and he leans his head near the crook of your neck. Your thighs spread out more until his shaft has full access to your pussy.

He thrusts the way he’s been earlier, but with the position he has you in, plus the extra spread in your legs, his entire cock claps into your hole, earning a loud whimper out of you. Despite the volume and jolts your body takes from him, you can’t help but encourage him with the siren cry of your voice.

“That’s it. Let. it. out.” He grunts in your ear, immediately picking up a devil's pace. Your sopping wet pussy sloshes like thunder each time he thrusts, balls slapping against your ass. Your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice grip that he has a hard time reeling back each thrust of his sex into yours.

Reigen clicks his tongue.

“Tch, you’re making it hard for me not to pull out right now.”

You don’t think about anything else but the overwhelming sensation that has taken over any other feeling. You have no control over it, yet you feel no reason to stop it as it builds and builds.

“I… I feel funny.” You breathe out, clawing at his skin with your nails, you can’t stop yourself from the sensation.

“Ah, I know. I can feel it.”

“What is it? What do I-” Reigen kisses you again, and you let out an accidentally loud moan into his mouth as his lips take you.

“Follow it for me, pretty girl,” Reigen whispers. His hand darts down, assaulting the neglected bud at the apex of your pussy. Your mind goes blank as white-hot fire engulfs your core.

“Cum for me.”

The overwhelming sensation takes over your body like a train, rushing through every vein like electricity. Your hands latch onto his hair, roughly pulling at the soft locks and scratching down his back. A noise you’ve never heard from your throat rips out like a tidal wave, crashing and chipping away at any thought you could’ve had that didn't include him. Dear God, was this a delirious feeling.

Reigen’s voice didn’t carry to your ears when he talks you through it. The soft whispers of him, “I know, I know.” are lost from your waves of pleasure.

His dick and balls clap into you like thunder a few more times before quickly pulling out of you, groaning as he uses his hand for the rest. His seed gathers onto his fingers shortly after, dripping onto the top of your stomach as he leans over you.

Your eyes meet, gazing into each other’s eyes with bated breath, watching your faces once contorted, now relaxing to faces of bliss. After a moment, you get up to get some tissues across the room, leaving Reigen to wipe his cum off of the both of you.

“Fuck.” You moan out. “Please tell me it always feels like this.”

“It does now,” Reigen catches his breath, giving you a goofy smile and tossing the tissues aside. “It sure as hell does now.”

You giggle at him, and he ungracefully, dramatically flops to your side–in proper Reigen fashion.

“Well, I’m calling out tomorrow.” He whistles, absentmindedly sweeping his fingers on the skin of your stomach, still partially covered in his cum.

“It’s not like you’ll be hungover tomorrow morning.”

“You’re too dense for your own good. Look, when I have you in your own bed? I’m not letting you go anytime soon. I really need to reevaluate our business relationship when I leave this room.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep you here then,” you jest.

“Hey, I’m not complaining.”

#reigen arataka #reigen arataka x reader #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho reigen #audio fiction #reader insert #x reader

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gynandromorph · 2 months

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this is another nofna emulation comic with Legend and Pegging that i sketched a while ago, but the first one really hurt my hand from all of the small letters ;_; i don't know when i'll be able to finish this one, so i'm just posting the sketch. i made the lines a lighter color to try to make it feel more like they are in smog after a wildfire -- they're walking over a burnt fynbos. the moon panel was always fully colored because a circular blob wouldn't really... make anything clear in a sketch. originally, i was going to include Legend mentioning freeing God from her prison, but i decided to keep it contained to just what Legend's goal is with the metanoia she's developing, and why she sees extreme violence to get her way as justified when she otherwise appears to have a normal moral compass. Misgivings is a blue jay, who i imagine can travel for academic purposes to a much greater degree than mammals. in this case, Legend knows that birds won't fly as long as there is such dense smoke from the wildfire, and she knows that she has no hope of catching up to a bird in flight. Pegging is probably not too bothered by the smoke due to the weird quirks of the naked mole rat and oxygen, although i can imagine her eventually trying to shelter under the hood from the soot in the air, and Legend is just insa--

#partaking in the act #nofna shitposting

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 8 months

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Ik you're working hard on the next nycv chapter buuuuuut if it's okay can i ask for more cute pre-isekai!batsis stuff with the batboys 🥺 if you're okay with it ofc!

Oh I'm always down for writing stuff about NYCV, sure I'll do like some bullet points or something

Not a chapter but y'all get some NYCV stuff too! Also to those who haven't read it this should be readable without having prior knowledge of the series so feel free to sit back and enjoy some Batboys fluff!

Tag list since it's technically NYCV content: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnacks @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc @rainnyydaysworld @underworlder @franini @mayo-0-o

NYCV!Batsis & the Batboys

[Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Dick Grayson

As we all know, he's the first batsib, talk about a high bar to reach (ba dum tss), and luckily for you he was an amazing older brother.

Fun where it counts, doting 24/7, protective when the situation calls for it, and stern when he has to be. There's a reason why you looked up to him more than your father in some regards.

Whenever he's off on a mission somewhere far away, he sends you postcards. You keep them in a box under your bed and you haven't thrown a single one away! Each card had a cheesy joke written on them, something to make you smile while he was gone is how he signed them all off with.

There was one time he was on 'Babysitter Duty' (as they later put it) and you ended up staging a bank robbery in the ballroom while he played the Boy Wonder (of course) who saved the day! (Poor Alfred was nominated to be Condiment King).

He's actually insufferable, his coworkers used to hate him because of how often he'd pull his phone/wallet/photobook/whatever could physically hold your picture just to gush and say "Look at my baby sister isn't she perfect?!" "Dude, that's, like, a whole ass teenager" "Shut up."

Although you'd always shown interest in his vigilante work, up until after the whole "I will never be a vigilante thing" much later, Dick was always very very careful in keeping you away from it. Hell, you didn't even know he was a Robin until you wandered into his room one evening when he came back from patrol.

By the time you'd figured him out, he did everything he could to keep you away from harm's way. You just weren't trained to handle yourself, and Dick would be a leader before he was your brother, as much as he'd hate to admit it. So, to keep you safe, he kept you away.

But, when he was there, he made sure to be the best older brother you could ask for. Gifts, advice, jokes, confidants, anything you'd ask. After all, he had competition.

Jason Todd

AKA, the Competition. He's the next batsib you got and so far he apparently holds the title for 'Best Sibling' (according to a ranking system you didn't know about that's being score kept by Alfred, in second place is Cass, for those wondering).

If Dick was the doting older brother then Jason was the annoying one. The kind of brother to open the door to your room, stare at you for five minutes, and walk away like nothing happened. The kind of brother to pull a 'I'm not even bothering you!' kind of move.

But, when it comes down to it, oh this dude's taking a bullet for you. I mentioned it once in the story but he'd always wanted a younger sister and bam he got one, sure he thought you were a spoiled brat at first (and in some ways you were) but hell he's damn sure he'll keep you that way if it meant you'd always be, well, you.

There were some days he'd wonder what it would be like if you'd switched places. If he was the one with the silver spoon and you were the Gotham street rat and nope, shake that thought out of his head. Without you he's sure he'd have gone off the deep end in this vigilante shit.

As much as you'd argue that you both secretly hated each other, you'd remember the time when Jason broke his hand punching Conner Kent in the face. He'd just come back to the family and while you were both getting caught up, you let slip that you broke up because he fell in love with someone else and... whoops. Good thing Tim was there to talk some sense into him.

For the record, Conner did lose his footing, but he argues it's because he was caught off guard, while Jason swears up and down it's because the Lazarus Pit made him stronger, or something like that. You try not to think about it, you're surprised you're still allowed within Titan tower.

He'd never admit it, but of the batsibs he actually knows you best. If the others have questions about what you'd like or how you'd react to something they'd ask Jason. He'd always answer in a way that would wave them off, but he's never been wrong.

Jason, as cold-shouldered as he could be, he has a soft spot for you. If he ever saw you in trouble he's definitely going to step between whatever's going on, don't doubt him on that.

Tim Drake

The first younger brother and, in his argument, therefore the best. Ironically since he was the first younger one you did dote on him a little too much, being the one "good cop" figure in the manor while he was training to be a Robin.

Of course, though you were on the civilian side of things, he actually looked up to you in ways he never could with Dick or Bruce. While they're mainly for the vigilante stuff, you're just there to make sure he doesn't forget who he is: Timothy Drake and not just a Robin.

You were really trying to replicate what your older brothers did for you with Tim, though it was only a little more difficult with his background. Hard to get gifts for someone who probably already has it, and hard to keep secrets and surprises from someone who's good at figuring them out, but you always figured out a way, and those ways always made him happy to see.

Thursdays are Tim and (Y/N) days, everyone in the family knows it. It started out as a mini tradition to get Tim out of the house every now and then and soon it became routine, it was the time you both took to catch up with each other and this especially became true after you went to college. Those times were precious for him, and he always looked forward to it.

Until, that is, other members started crashing it. It started with Dick coincidentally running into you both and suddenly now Jason's already sitting at your booth? And Stephanie? And Cass? Barbara?! What happened to Tim and (Y/N) time?!

But, he had to admit, it was rare to see them all getting along well like this. He couldn't complain, as long as you all got to spend time together that's all that mattered. And, in the end, it was always you two anyway. You are one of his greatest confidants, and he is one of yours likewise. Despite the short age gap, you often found that you shared a lot in common with him. Maybe it was because of your similar backgrounds, or maybe it was because you doted on him so much.

Tim looks up to you. More than you think, and more that you'd expect. Every time you reminded him that you were just a civilian part of it seemed wrong to him. You're as much a part of the family as he is, or as anyone is, and usually it would be him to remind you of that when he caught you distancing yourself again.

You couldn't hide anything from each other, you could read him so easily and he was just good at finding things out. And when it came to being middle siblings, well, that's a pact in and of itself.

Damian Wayne

When you'd heard about getting another younger brother, a blood related one at that, you were ecstatic. Of course, you had Tim, but Tim had his responsibilities to the Drakes too, Damian was a Wayne and so were you, it was a little different.

Sure, his appearance was... sudden. His first impressions not so great either, but you could read him well. He was so young when he came into your father's care and underneath the harsh training and the poisoned words was still that little boy he is and you were determined to help him remember that it was okay to be a boy.

Taking him to the arcade, buying him books, and treating him out for meals were just a few points off of a list of things you've done to make him feel comfortable. You're not a vigilante, you can't help him with training or anything else, but you can help him in other ways and you tried to show that to him.

It took forever. Maybe about a year or so for him to finally open up to you, but once he did it was like a triumph to you, and you knew that you did well when one day you woke up and saw him fast asleep at the foot of your bed, still clad in pajamas and eyes slightly puffy from whatever happened the night before. He's still a boy. You'd remind that to everyone when necessary.

After a while, he would come to you to ask about civilian things, troubles at school, troubles with making friends, and even troubles at galas. And every time you were there to help him out, giving him a few tips and tricks on how to avoid the paprazzi, maybe a clue here and there about what to look out for when looking for friends, and, of course, study tips so he didn't lose his mind in academy.

One day, while waiting to pick him up, there was a knock at your window. It was a woman you'd never seen before. She wore a headscarf that covered her hair and a pair of sunglasses that partially concealed her identity and, hell, if you didn't know any better you'd think that was your own mother. But something told you that she wasn't there to just say hello and, naively, you opened your door and let her in.

She sat at the passenger's seat, everything about her poised and elegant to the point that you were near in awe at her disposition and, quietly, she spoke, "thank you, for everything you've done for Damian." Talia al Ghul, she had to be, why else would she be here? You hadn't heard much about her, you'd barely even seen a few pictures of her from Damian's belongings, but here she was. "Of course," you'd answer, "I know it's not the same, but I know a little bit of how it feels to be alone." And to this she nodded, with a small smile, and with one glance out the car she left, moments later being replaced by Damian.

"So, where are we going today?" He'd ask. You'd give him a list of places, ask him to choose one, and you'd head there with him in tow. One of his favorites had always been the park.

Bonus: Bruce Wayne

I had to include bat-dad. Despite how I write him, he actually really is a good father, just not in the way you'd expect him to be. Y'all hold out for his arc, I promise it will be good!

When you were first dropped off at the manor, you didn't know what to expect from him. He was this huge imposing figure who was clad in black with a scowl on his face, you thought he hated you already. You were so young at the time, how could you have known any better?

Whenever he spoke to you, he'd crouch down and speak in a gentle voice. Whenever you'd ask him of something, even if it seemed like he didn't hear you, you'd see your answer within the next few days. He'd build you a whole other manor if you asked for it.

If only he wasn't so busy, juggling his role as CEO and Batman, he barely had enough time for the both of those, let alone time to raise a daughter, but he tried to show you that he was there in other ways. Fully funding your schooling was a given, but whenever you'd show interest in anything suddenly you'd see more of it in the manor.

When you'd expressed to Dick that you were interested in the piano, you found one in the house the next day. When you'd told Jason that you wanted to read more of a certain author, her entire collection was in the library. You once told Tim that you wanted to go to Metropolis U for college and, out of nowhere, there was an offer for a full ride. You and Damian used to go over to the Kent's to play a certain video game since neither of you had the time to bring it over and, would you look at that, the manor now has a game room.

A series of misunderstandings is what plagued this relationship. One from a father who barely felt the love of a parent and the other from a daughter who vyed for it. You both found your own way of communicating with each other, and it wasn't until the very end where it got strained.

But could you blame him?

You called him a monster.

You didn't even let him explain himself.

But, truthfully, even if you did...

He wasn't sure if you'd understand it.

Hell, he didn't even understand it himself.

All he felt was the heartbreak of realizing he made a mistake that couldn't be undone.

#dc #batman #batfamily #batfam #batsis #batsis fics #batfamily x batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily scenarios #batfamily x reader #batsis!reader #batfam fics #batfamily fics #batfamily x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #my writings #nycv

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eruden-writes · 2 months

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Room & Board - Part 22 (Vampire x Reader x Werewolf)

paranormal fantasy vampire x human eventual triad (x werewolf)

Anonymous asked:

For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Masterlist First | Previous | Next

x x x x x

If you like my content, please consider supporting me on:

*:･ﾟ✧ Patreon or Ko-Fi *:･ﾟ✧

x x x x x

"Tabaeus, you were created to be a repository for memories. That was your whole poin—" Lachlan's attempts to justify his actions come to a halt. He violently coughs as Tabaeus slams their free hand through his back. Bones crack before you hear – more than see – the sound of tissue and flesh tearing. Tabaeus's hand jerks back, withdrawing a pulsing organ from Lachlan.

Standing, the beastly form shucks away from your vampire, leaving their nude human like form. With a kick, they force Lachlan onto his back and pin them down with a foot. The other vampire's attention flickers to his own heart in the Memory Keeper's hand. Lachlan's chest heaves as his eyes dart from Tabaeus's face to their hand, then wildly around to the other vampires present.

His eyes are begging for someone, anyone, to step in. No one moves an inch.

When Lachlan's eyes return to Tabaeus, tears actively stream down his cheeks. He shakes his head wildly as your vampire considers him, their head tilted like a cat observing a mouse under their paw. Tabaeus flexes their hand around the heart and Lachlan jerks.

It's only now that you realize a darkness is creeping over the organ, much like how the shadows moved around Tabaeus and how rust crept along metal at their touch.

Tabaeus squeezes the heart again and Lachlan cries out, gasping open-mouthed. There's only a split second when you catch your vampire's eyes narrowing, as if debating mercy. Across the distance, they glance your way. You meet their eyes and all you can think of is how leaving Lachlan alive would mean always looking over your shoulder. Not just for Tabaeus or you, but for Ewan, Jemma, Bjarka, and Liuvia.

With a small movement, you shake your head and Tabaeus nods. Their gaze swings back down to Lachlan, who saw how your vampire sought your gaze. Lachlan's gaze is vicious on you and, though he is subdued, your stomach reflexively curdles with fear.

That seems to be all the confirmation Tabaeus needs. Their hand tightens around Lachlan's heart, crushing the organ with the easy flex. Rotten flesh and viscera and blood explodes in Tabaeus's palm as Lachlan gives an otherworldly shriek, convulsing savagely. Darkness creeps over Lachlan as he caves in on himself, withering. The weight of Tabaeus's foot is enough to shatter the husk into dust.

Stillness and quiet falls, different than the pressure and silence of earlier.

It's only when Tabaeus moves, tilting their head up from the pile of ash toward the others present, that a ripple runs through the other vampires. They slowly spin, catching every vampire in their gaze.

"Know that the most powerful among you was no match for me," Tabaeus's words loudly ring out, echoing off the ceiling. "If any of you wretched little pissants bother myself or those I call mine, I will end this whole coven. Now, begone!"

Strange sucking and popping sounds fill the air as hundreds of vampires escape Tabaeus's presence. All manner of vampires in new forms – bats, rats, and swarms of insects – flee. Others melt into shadows. Still others simply turn and run, their footfalls fading quickly into the distance.

Until the last sounds of the exodus die away, Tabaeus does not move. The dark black-purple fades from their limbs, the glowing of their eyes subsiding. With a vague surprise, you realize they're uninjured. All the bites and bruises you walked in on are now gone, leaving behind mostly unmarred skin, save for the autopsy scars.

They glare off into the distance, not turning toward you. You almost wonder if they're trying to ignore you, to forget you're even present.

"Tabaeus?" You take a step closer, shaking off Ewan's protective grasp while feeling Jemma's gaze on your back. Tabaeus jerks at the sound of your voice, their muscles tensing as you edge closer toward them. Just as your hand reaches out, brushes against their bare arm, they wheel toward you and grab your wrist.

"It was dangerous for you to come!" A steeliness glints in their red eyes, mingling between anger and worry. Their gaze flicks to Ewan and Jemma, their lip curling with rage. "It was dangerous for you all!"

Despite the heat of exhaustion pounding at the back of your eyes, you bite back and motion toward the pile of cushions, "If we hadn't, you'd still be chained up and used!"

"That is beside the point," they snap, but their gaze flickers to their previous sitting area. Something tenses in their body. The hard gleam in their eyes softens as their gaze flicks back to you. Their shoulders sag, their grasp on your wrist loosening a little. "Utterly beyond the point."

You stare up at Tabaeus, a flurry of feelings flitting through your head. Relief to finally see them again, frustration at their reaction, glad to finally have them – and not their listless other self – standing before you.

Before you can think of what to say, Jemma steps forward. Her hands fall to your shoulder and Tabaeus's arm, making you and the vampire startle. "Can we get moving, before those bloodsuckers decide to come back and try to gang up on us?"

Tabaeus's eyes narrow on her imperiously as they step away from her touch, though they still hold your wrist. "I am sure I can take them all."

"Yeah, well I don't want to test it," Jemma hisses back, her lips puckering with disagreement as her eyes flick to the still shadowy pipes and crevices overhead. Not waiting for you, she turns sharply and begins to leave the room. Over the flap of her bag, Liuvia and Bjarka watch you with big round eyes.

Tabaeus finally releases you, turning and muttering something about needing something to wear.

After securing one of the tapestries like a floor-length cloak around Tabaeus – saving both their modesty from public eye and their skin from the sun – your group retraces through the underbelly of the mall. All of you trudge on quietly, the way lit by Jemma's magic.

The eerie silence settles through the space, each of you mentally gnawing on your own thoughts, though the silence doesn't feel as dangerous as before. Just empty, which is unnerving in a different way. The only sounds are from your group's footfalls and the shift of the makeshift cloak Tabaeus wears.

"Why didn't you do all that sooner?" Ewan poses the question as soon as you step free of the basement stairs. He has shifted back to his human form, though a full short beard lingers on his jaw. In the light of Jemma's magic flame, you realize his clothes are more than a little bedraggled and torn, probably due to both the transformation and the fight. Catching your eyes, Ewan flashes you an awkward smile.

Tabaeus gives a hum, indicating they've heard Ewan's question though they continue forward. The image of them, back straight and draped in a cloak, oddly reminds you of an image from a book from your childhood. A prim matron, nose in the air, with her charges following at brisk pace at her heels.

Like the image in your head, you, Ewan, and Jemma follow after Tabaeus. The curious weight in the air making it apparent everyone was waiting for the vampire to elaborate.

"I was designated a Memory Keeper early into my turning," they finally begin, slowly picking their words like a novice plucking at lute strings. Their red eyes turn downward, toward their still bare feet, as their eyebrows furrow. "For a long time, there were many other vampires older than myself, more powerful than myself. I was handed down and inherited by others and each decade, there were more and more memories to retain and less Keepers for them."

When Tabaeus glances toward you, they realize Ewan and Jemma stare, along with Liuva and Bjarka from the witch's satchel. Their pace slows, registering the sudden attention as their shoulders rise awkwardly and the vampire weakly finishes, "I suspect the method for creation of a Memory Keeper was lost at some point."

"If there even was one to begin with," you retort just as your foot hits the ground floor, sunlight streaming in from the skylights in the ceiling. The words are out of you before you can think about it, but you focus on Tabaeus, judging their reaction. They don't flinch or cringe, but a new tiredness creases their eyes. If there was nothing special about being a Memory Keeper, then they were kept and used for no good reason. Others could have helped retain a coven's memories, instead of the duty falling squarely on their shoulders.

The other vampires just wanted to use Tabaeus rather than sacrifice any of themselves. That thought sends a brief rage through your body, but it dies down quickly beneath a dampening blanket of tiredness. Those other vampires don't matter now. With Tabaeus's show of power, you doubt any of the coven that bore witness would bother them again. Of course, perhaps that was optimistic on your part.

"Yes, if there was even a process to begin with." Tabaeus echoes your sentiment as their arm withdraws from their makeshift cloak to pinch at the bridge of their own nose. They sidestep the shafts of light that litter the floor, sticking to the shadows at the edges. "With greater numbers of vampires and fewer Memory Keepers, it perhaps caused me to... lose sight of myself."

From the other side of Tabaeus, walking blatantly through the rectangles of light, Ewan frowns. "I still don't understand why you didn't demolish them all sooner."

"To know what one is capable of, one must know oneself." Tabaeus sighs and scrubs a hand down their face. You can tell they're struggling to put words to their experiences and logic, though they seem to be keeping pace with the conversation. "Being near constantly in a fugue state and without an older vampire able or willing to guide me, I did not know what powers I grew into. Quite honestly, everything I did down there was instinct."

"You still seemed to be pretty out of it when we came, though. Until, well..." With a motion of your hand, you indicate your neck. Tabaeus pauses, causing everyone else to stop as well. With the sun streaming in, it feels less urgent to leave the mall behind. Something creases at the vampire's expression as they stare at your neck, again searching for the words they want to say.

"When I was with you, you allowed me to re-establish who I am to myself. Gave me the space to explore what it means to be me. When I fed on you, your memories and mine locked together to remind me of it all," Tabaeus begins, soft and slow. They lock their gaze with yours and you already know what they're thinking, what they're remembering. Those moments you two shared, from that first night they stalked you to the very last night when they left. Reaching out, Tabaeus presses their cold fingers to the shadowy side of your neck and it's only then you realize you stand half in shade, half in sunlight.

Still, Tabaeus doesn't break their gaze from yours. You think something akin to wonderment or reverence flashes behind their red eyes, making heat rise to your face. Their lips curl hesitantly into a gentle smile, worsening the warmth inside you as they take your hand in both of their own. "I owe my whole being to you, amata."

Words are lost on your tongue as heat intensifies within you. A flush crawls over your cheeks, painfully aware that Ewan, Jemma, and the imps are watching. Your eyes fall to Tabaeus's chest, where your hand his clasped against their chest. In an attempt to say something to fill the silence, your lips part, but slowly close again as Tabaeus's thumb skirts your knuckles, losing whatever thought you had.

It's Ewan who finds something to say with a kind of fondness teasing at the corner of his lips. "Corny ass."

Tabaeus's head snaps up to look at Ewan, though they don't move their hand from cupping yours. Their nose wrinkles as they hiss, "That as it may be, Fido–"

The grin on Ewan's lips twitches a tiny bit wider as he interjects, "Oh good. Still got anti-lycan sentiments, I see."

The vampire ignores him as they continue onward, tugging you along by your wrist. Ewan follows like a pup at your heels.

"–it is the truth. Amata and, to a far lesser extent, you," Tabaeus's lips twist into a scowl as they glance at Ewan, "allowed me to reinstate who I am to myself. Which I suppose I should thank you – both of you – for."

"Aw, it's nice to be appreciated," Ewan croons and you shoot him a tight-lipped look. You can't blame him for being an ass. It seems impossible to ask either Ewan or Tabaeus to treat each other civilly, at least perpetually. There's a brightness to Ewan's eyes that softens your pointed look at him. Relief flicks in his eyes, his body language relaxed for the first time since Tabaeus left.

Unaware of your realization, Ewan leans closer to Tabaeus, a smirk spread wide enough across his lips that his pointed teeth flash in the sun. "Bet I'm the only werewolf in history that has a vampire's appreciation."

Tabaeus shoots Ewan another withering look, but – like before – it has little heat. In fact, you believe they're more embarrassed than genuinely aggravated with Ewan. Regardless, the vampire shakes their head, still not pausing, before motioning to Jemma. "What I do not understand is why they are here?"

At that, Jemma snorts and rolls her eyes. "I helped find you. So, a thanks for me is in order too."

"But who are yo–" Tabaeus begins to ask as they turn toward her, before Jemma gathers up her hair in a ponytail and magics up her uniform's cap. As she plops the hat on her head, feeding the ponytail through the hat, the vampire's eyes widen in recognition. A delighted edge overtaking the previous aggravation in their words, "Oh! The iced cream purveyor! I thought I scented mana on you, but I thought it was, perhaps, the food."

"And I thought vampires couldn't eat food," Jemma returns as her hands fall to her sides again. This time, it's she who leads the movement back through the mall. The exit is in sight now. Through the large windows, you see the sun has crested the midpoint and is on its way down. A pang of hunger shoots through your stomach and you vaguely wonder if it's safe to visit the diner one last time before leaving.

Tabaeus still leads you forward, though their attention is on Jemma. "We can. Well, I can. And I do a great many things vampires reportedly cannot."

Once more, Jemma pauses. She eyes Tabaeus, an intrigued glint in her eye as she takes inventory of the vampire. "Interesting."

"Is it?" Tabaeus stops, their grip flexing on your wrist. For some reason, they seem nervous under Jemma's discerning gaze. Adjusting the hold, you slide your palm properly into Tabaeus's own.

"Considering the oldest vampires I know of are about 1000 years old and even they didn't eat non-blood meals, yes." Jemma hums briefly and you glance at her, unable to fully read the considering expression on the witch's face. You imagine you see old tomes and aged text flipping through the rolodex of her mind. "Is Tabaeus your given name?"

"I believe so," they answer, their brow furrowed. "Why?"

You can see where this is heading. Jemma's thought mirrors one you've had multiple times: how old is Tabaeus? However, unlike you, Jemma has experience and access to finding out more information about vampires. Or seems to, at least.

"When we get back, I'll delve into some research." Jemma turns away, pushing through the exit doors. "You may be far older than any vampire in recorded history."

"Excuse me?" To that, Tabaeus's eyelids fluttered rapidly, the thought apparently difficult to digest. Gently, you guide them out of the way of the shafts of sun that fan out on the floor from Jemma opening the door.

"One existential problem at a time, please, Jemma," you call after the witch as she briskly walks through the threshold. She doesn't seem to notice, her mind a million miles away in some archive.

Not one to pass up an opportunity, Ewan chuckles as he passes Tabaeus. As he does, he jostles the vampire with a shoulder bump. "Bet you wish you were a young pup now, you old bat."

Tabaeus answers with a hissing lunge toward Ewan, but the werewolf merely cackles as he dances into the sunlight. Instinctively, Tabaeus freezes at the light, before remembering their cloak. Your wrist forgotten; they pursue after a laughing Ewan to deliver retribution as the werewolf ducks laughingly in the car.

Inwardly, you stifle a sigh, realizing the road trip back home is going to be far more chaotic than the prior sober journey. With a backward glance into the quiet mall, however, you know any amount of friendly chaos is better than what lurked under your feet.

A loud curse comes from the car where Ewan and Tabaeus tussle. As you turn to look, you find Jemma glaring through the rearview mirror at the two, her lips twisted in reprimand as she speaks. A smile teases at your lips as you cross the threshold of the mall, leaving behind the lingering shadows.

It's time to head home.

x x x x x

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alexis-royce · 2 months

Note

Y'know thanks to you I've seen probably a hundred Fallen London tagged posts and it's the one fandom(?) that I've gleaned absolutely nothing about. Just no idea even what the premise is or what's going on.

Just every once in awhile I see a post like "Going to the Wonder Emporium to spend 500 golden candelabras in order to convert my 52 cursed weasels into 51 Slightly Less Cursed Weasels and 51 Minor Weasel Curses before my elegant masquerade dinner with Mr. Rodents and Mrs. Phantasmal Goop" and it's always tagged Fallen London. I understand nothing but I also sorta feel like that's the point.

I think the main thing that's stuck with me is "Ex-disgraced Academic" is just such a good character name/title(?). Like there's so much intrigue baked in there, I wanna know more about that funny lil guy

To start: That is a better encapsulation of FL writing than I would ever be capable of, I cannot possibly express to you how much I love that center paragraph.

To sum up: In February 1862, the city of London fell beneath the surface of the earth, stolen by bats. In our current year of 1902, folks have adjusted to the horrors of living amongst devils, talking rats, and other chthonic entities.

Fallen London is a comedy gothic horror browser game. It ranks high in both comedy and horror, and it’s been running for fourteen years, so the world and mechanics have matured like a gorgeous scotch. You can play for free, but it is not meant to be binged! You can only do a very little every few hours. This bothers the hell out of plenty of folks, but for me, the slow pace is positively sumptuous. It gives the world time to breathe, and me time to ponder an abundance of esoteric and haunting mysteries. A lot of the characters in FL have appellations instead of names: “The Jovial Contrarian,” “The Loquacious Vicar,” “Jack-of-Smiles,” or “The Implacable Detective.”

Speaking of! Thank you for the compliments on The Academic’s title! Often I wish I had something less clunky for them, but I am pleased with the way it effectively communicates their fall from grace and return to prominence. I need to update it and ought to make a better write-up, but their toyhouse page is over here, and their introductory comic and stories are over here!

#Fallen London #The Ex-Disgraced Academic #asks #Tsushi especially liked your description #they started ranting about “one hundred weasel bones to make a giant weasel skeleton to trade for AHHHHHHH #This is why I need to post about FL a ton #Tsushi needs a break from my chatter

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lady-pug · 1 year

Text

In Sickness And In Health - In Sickness

Summary: The kid fell ill while Din is away and you feel absolutely hopeless trying to help him, but nothing seems to work. You get progressively more worried the more he cries, and it's driving you insane. Hopefully Din will get back soon.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word count: 3,8k

Warnings: description of sickness (also Grogu throws up), small injuries (scratches)

Notes: this one is actually a two-shot, in which both parts complement each other. This was a fun one to write. Do keep in mind that Grogu is sick in this one, so there are descriptions of feeling ill and throwing up (so if this is something that makes you uncomfortable please feel free to skip ahead). As always, if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you enjoy this one!

Reader’s gender not specified.

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Crying. That’s all you could hear and all your mind could focus on. You even felt like crying yourself. The kid had been desperately wailing for hours already and no matter what you did he wouldn’t stop.

Din had been gone for almost two days now, away gathering information that could be useful in finding the kid’s people. While you had originally wanted to go with him, he had deemed the place and the people he was meeting too dangerous for the kid, and asked that you stay on the Crest and look after him while he was gone (“Just like the good old days, huh?” you had joked, to which Din answered with a brief chuckle).

Almost immediately after Din had left the kid started growing fussy. You hadn’t given it too much thought as it was pretty normal behavior for him everytime his guardian left, missing him as much as you did, and had tried to distract him with some coloring and some food. Your suspicion that something was indeed wrong started to arise when the kid refused to eat the jerky you offered him, and continued whimpering. After all, this little boy loved food almost more than anything. You decided that maybe a nap would make him feel better and put him in his little hammock above Din’s bunk, where he fell asleep almost immediately.

The silence on the ship lasted only a few hours, which you had used to fix some wiring under the navigation controls, before the kid woke up wailing. You scrambled from under the controls, almost hitting your head in the process, and ran to the hull to check on him. Once you opened the bunk’s door the sight before you made your heart clench with concern.

The kid was bawling his eyes out, the little hammock swinging back and forth with the force of his sobs, his skin a paler shade of green, almost grayish.

“Oh, my love” you picked him up gently, but his squirming nearly made you drop him, so you cradled him a little more firmly “What’s wrong?”

His little robe felt wet under your palms, his skin damp with sweat. You gently laid the back of your hand on his forehead, confirming that he was indeed quite warm.

“You’re ill, is that what’s bothering you?” you cooed at him, trying to calm him down “Let’s see how we can make you feel better, yes?”

You took him back to the cabinet that served as a kitchen pantry.

“When I was little, old lady Aola often took care of me when I was sick. She would help Porcellus make this amazing cream of womp rat soup that would get me back on my feet in no time.” you sat him down on a counter, his crying never ceasing “Let’s see if we can improvise something similar for you.”

Improvise, as it turned out, was a huge understatement. It was quite hard to store fresh food on the Razor Crest, so you and Din mainly kept canned essentials and food that could be frozen and subsequently defrosted. The rare times you managed to come across fresh goods, they were quickly consumed before they could spoil. Therefore you found out you didn’t have the main ingredient to make soup for the kid: womp rat meat.

“Okay, not to worry, we can figure something out, right kid?”

You didn’t receive a response, the little boy only kept on crying. The more he sobbed, the more distressed you felt, fumbling with the ingredients to finish the soup quicker. More than once his crying spiked a little louder, almost making you chop a finger off.

“There we go” you said once you finished, pouring some of the soup on a tiny bowl for him “You’ll start to get better after you eat.”

Once the soup had cooled off a little you handed him the bowl and turned back to get some for yourself. What you did not expect, however, was for the kid to grow even more fussy, screaming even louder, and use his magic powers to send the entire pan flying towards you.

“Maker, kid!” you yelped, the soup burning your skin even through your clothes as it ran down the front of your shirt. Some had splashed on your exposed arms, the skin there starting to redden.

That seemed to calm him down somewhat. In between hiccups, the little boy started giggling.

“Yeah, this’ what does it, huh?” he laughed even more at the pained grimace on your face “Laugh at my misery, kid, and see what happens.” you smirked at him, no malice behind it.

You went back to your cot to grab a somewhat clean shirt to replace the one soaking with soup. You winced as you tried to peel it off, the course material sticking to your injured skin. Once you were presentable you went back to the kid to find him quietly sipping his soup.

“Feeling better now that you let it all out of your system?” you asked him, to which he only gurgled in response.

After cleaning up the mess the kid had made while he finished eating you decided to check his temperature. Placing your palm against his head, you noticed that he felt even warmer than before.

“This doesn’t feel good.”

Grabbing the ship’s medkit you retrieved the infrared thermometer, but not before noticing a single stimshot sitting there. You stared at the small green item at the bottom of the kit, pondering your next steps. You were hesitant about using it, not knowing anything about the kid’s species and how his system would react to the stim. Besides, the dose was designed for adults. Maker, it was strong enough to use on a wookie, what would happen if you gave it to a baby? I’ll leave it as a last resort, you decided.

The number displayed on the thermometer was high, but you couldn’t tell exactly how high for the kid’s standards.

“I guess we’ll just have to monitor your fever.” you smiled down at him, realizing his eyes were getting a little droopy “How about we give you a nice, lukewarm bath and put you down to sleep, what do you say?”

Compared to his fussiness from earlier, the kid was incredibly calm while you washed and dried him. He was practically asleep by the time you put him down on his hammock again.

You decided a cold shower would do you good. Upon closer inspection, now that you weren’t in such a rush, the skin of your chest and stomach was quite red. There were even some small blisters where the hot soup had come in direct contact with the skin of your arms. If you remembered correctly, there wasn’t much bacta left so you decided against using it, as Din could need it once he was back. The cold water helped soothe the burns.

Hopping out of the shower you sat down on your cot with a datapad to do some research. Surely someone on the holonet knew something about a species with green skin and big pointy ears, right? But you came back empty handed, as not a single mention to anything similar to the kid’s kind could be found. You quickly changed your approach and settled upon browsing through blogs with tips for first-time parents on how to take care of ill babies. A few tips were actually pretty useful.

This whole day had been very exhausting and had left you completely drained. Checking the chrono you realized it was starting to get dark outside. After checking on the kid one last time, you decided to go to bed early.

You managed to get only a couple of hours of shuteye before you jolted back to consciousness by the kid screaming bloody murder.

“Oh, no.” you groaned tiredly as you got up to tend to him “I’m coming, my love.” you whispered even though he clearly couldn’t hear you.

When you opened the door to Din’s bunk you panicked for a second not seeing the baby on his hammock. Instead you found him lying on his back on Din’s bed, his little arms swinging in the air as if he couldn’t get up.

“Oh, kid, what happened?!” you asked as you picked him up and cradled him close to your chest. A second later you stiffened, and if you could facepalm you would: it was pretty obvious, he must have squirmed too much and fallen from his hammock. You were so tired you were starting to lose your coherence.

The kid gripped the front of your shirt with all his might and nuzzled into your collarbone, his crying quieting a little but never stopping. You placed the back of your hand on his forehead.

“You’re still hot.”

You fumbled with the thermometer, almost dropping it in the process and measured his temperature. It was practically the same as the last time you checked.

“At least it’s not going up.”

You started walking around the hull bouncing him in your arms, trying to get him to settle down again. You tried shushing him, humming quietly, singing a lullaby. You were so desperate to help him however you could that you even went as far as putting a bucket over your head and impersonating Din to see if that would calm him down.

“I can bring you in warm” you said, your voice forcedly deeper and lower “or I can bring you in cold.”

That makes him blow a quiet tiny giggle between hiccups, but otherwise did not stop his crying.

“I don’t know what to do.” you whimpered, frustrated tears brimming in your eyes “How can I help you?”

The kid kept on crying for a few more minutes before he stopped all of a sudden. You looked at him quizzically and for a moment you hoped, you prayed that this was it. Before you could even react he gurgled and puked all over the front of your shirt.

“Of course.” you sighed.

That seemed to do it for him, apparently having been woken up by a sore stomach. He instantly quieted down.

“Let’s see if you can keep something else down.” there you went to prepare him more food. Now with a full stomach again you put him down to sleep again, this time directly on Din’s bed so he wouldn’t fall off and hurt himself, and headed to the shower. Again. Then you went to bed. Again.

This went on for two days: every few hours the kid would wake up wailing, you would tend to him and more often than not you would have to get back to the shower. It got to the point where you had no more clean shirts and had resorted to hunting for one of Din’s to wear. His fever was not going down, but at least it wasn’t going up (or that’s what you kept telling yourself). By the beginning of the first afternoon you gave up trying to sleep, running exclusively on caf and willpower (which, to be fair, was dimming every passing moment you stayed awake a little longer). You were practically swaying on your feet.

You were adamant on not using the stim, too scared of doing more harm than good. Instead you’ve been trying to bring him back to full health with only soup and lukewarm baths and lots of water and rest, but that was not seeming to do the trick.

You briefly considered calling Din on the comm he had, but it was for emergencies only. But wasn’t this an emergency? You were hesitant on calling him and worrying him when he was so far away, or worse, possibly giving away his position in a vulnerable moment. So you resorted to doing this on your own.

The kid had just quieted down in your arms, nuzzling further into your embrace. You let yourself hope for just a moment that he was finally going to get better. After settling him down on Din’s bed, you sat down on your own cot to try and read some manuals on the Razor Crest’s navigation system and hopefully learn how to properly fly the ship just in case. The kid was the quietest he ever was this past couple of days, his nap lasting a lot longer than before. Thank the Maker, you sighed in relief. Even though your eyelids were getting heavier by the second, you forced yourself to stay awake just a while longer. He might need me, you argued, I need to be ready. Just in case this isn’t over, I need to be there for him if he-

You were harshly woken by a piercing scream and the floor vibrating. Disorientated, you checked the chrono and cursed as you realized a few hours had gone by since you put the kid down to sleep. Kriff, I must have dozed off.

Standing up on unsteady feet you felt the whole ship shaking. Reaching for the bunk, you slid the door open to find the kid screaming his little lungs out, his little arms flailing around. He must be the one making the ship move with his powers.

“Hey kid, what’s wrong?” you asked, reaching to check his forehead “Kriff, you’re burning up!”

Grabbing the thermometer, you measured his temperature. It was high, a lot higher than it was before. You silently cursed yourself for falling asleep, having missed when his temperature started to rise.

“Oh, Maker, kid.” your eyes started stinging from unshed tears “I’m so sorry, I should have been taking better care of you, I’m-”

A sob got stuck in your throat. You were absolutely desperate and also so frustrated with your inability to make the kid feel better, what would Din say if he saw you now? This was why he brought you along, one of the reasons he hired you in the first place, what would he think of you if you couldn’t even do your job right? And the kid! He was hurting, that absolutely broke your heart, and there was nothing you could do but hopelessly watch. And you were so very tired.

No.

You refused to give up yet. The kid needed you. He needed you and you were the only one who could take care of him now.

With newfound determination, you cleaned your face where a few traitorous tears had slipped down your cheeks and grabbed the medkit. You were going to use the stimshot. After retrieving a small blade from Din’s weapon stash and an empty cup, you scooped the baby up in your arms before sitting on the ground in the middle of the hull.

Using the sharp blade, you carved a tiny hole on the tip of the pneumatic dispenser that held the stimulant, just enough to be able to pour most of the liquid inside the cup, without damaging the pumping mechanism. With just a small dose inside the syringe, you held onto the kid and tried raising one of his sleeves.

When he finally caught on to what you were doing, he screamed and cried even more desperately than before, wiggling in your arms trying to get away. All of a sudden white hot stinging pain erupted in your arms, as the kid quite literally tried to claw his way out of your grasp, prompting you to hold him even tighter, while also trying not to hurt him in the process.

“I know, I know, love” you huffed, your voice strained with pain “but this is for your own good.” you ended your sentence and immediately plunged the syringe in his little arm.

He screamed, your heart breaking for him, but as the medicine was pumped into his bloodstream he slowly calmed down.

“Okay, this seems to have worked.” you sighed “Let’s check, shall we?”

The thermometer said that his temperature was indeed going down. Waiting a few minutes you checked again and again, realizing it had indeed lowered quite a bit, but had eventually stagnated on a temperature still high enough to be considered a fever.

“I’m going to have to do this again, alright kid?” he cooed in response, his eyes starting to shut from exhaustion “I’m sorry.”

You very carefully poured another small dose back inside the dispenser and administered it in his arm again, him barely squealing. After checking his temperature again just to be sure you realized it had lowered and he was safe again. He settled in your arms, nuzzling into your collarbone, and instantly fell asleep.

With the kid still in your arms, you carefully scooted back to near Din’s bunk, but you had no strength left in you to actually get up and set him in bed. Instead you just slumped against the wall, your head tilted back as you let out a sigh. A sigh turned into two, which turned into small hiccups, which in turn turned into full blown sobbing. Your whole body shook with the intensity of it, tears of frustration and of tiredness steadily falling and accumulating on the back of your hand where you were biting into in order not to let out any sounds that could potentially wake him up.

You looked down at the green child in your arms, his face so peaceful, if only slightly paler than usual, and smiled softly at him. The sight of him no longer distressed was enough to calm you. Without even attempting to clean the tear tracks from your face, you slumped fully into the wall, letting a much overdue slumber overtake you.

Din slowly made his way back to the Crest, almost dragging his feet. Obviously, the man he had sought out to meet had required him to do some maker awful task to, in the end, not even have the information he asked for.

“Jedi are hard to find these days, Mando. Even harder than mandalorians.” he had said, which made Din clench his fists really hard in order not to just beat the guy to a pulp. But that actually made him stop and rethink his actions.

With the stunt this weirdo just pulled, he realized he couldn’t trust just anyone in the galaxy. No one other than mandalorians. While, yes, mandalorians were hard to come across nowadays, especially after The Great Purge of Mandalore, maybe they could help find a Jedi somewhere, as mandalorians tended to have lots of important connections all over the galaxy (it saddened him to think that he could no longer rely on his Tribe as he didn’t know where most of them were, and it saddened him even more to admit it was his fault they were scattered around).

So, while very tired and desperate for a shower and to hop into bed, he was very eager to get home to you and the kid and tell you all about his new plan, to search for mandalorians. He already had an idea where to start. Wait. Home. Since when had he begun associating the Crest with home? Before it was just ‘the ship’. Now though…

When the ship came to view he sighed in relief and content. While the ramp lowered, however, he started getting a weird feeling in his chest, that something wasn’t quite right. Stepping inside the Crest only made his worry grow: the hull was a mess, it honestly looked like a hurricane had swept over the place and, worst of all, his weapons cabinet was open. And the place was quiet; it wasn’t usually this quiet in the middle of the day with an over energetic kid around.

He unholstered his blaster and carefully walked around looking for you. He didn’t have to search for long: near his bunk, a few steps away from a mess of things (a blade of his, he noted, next to a spilled over cup of a viscous green fluid), you were slumped against the wall, your knees bent close to your chest, slightly falling to one side, with your head hung down.

Din rushed forward and cupped your cheeks, checking you over for any injuries. The first thing he noticed was that the bags under your eyes looked slightly more pronounced, making your face look more hollow. Then he noticed the scratches on your forearms, blood beginning to dry, accompanied by small blisters. His face scrunched up in worry and anger as he wondered what had happened while he was away, while he wasn’t here to protect you. His fussing over you made you stir.

“Hm, Din?” you asked in a small voice, your eyes cracking open to look at him.

“Hey, Cyar’ika.” he almost whispered back “It’s me. Who did this to you?”

“Wha’…?”

“Who did this” he gripped one of your arms carefully “to you?”

“The kid.”

That made him still completely.

“The kid?”

“He was ill.”

Only then did he notice the small green lump resting between your torso and knees, carefully cradled against your chest, snoring softly. That’s when it clicked. The kid had probably kept you awake and on your feet for a while looking after him. He probably got fussy and accidentally hurt you while you were trying to take care of him.

“Oh, Cyar’ika. When was the last time you had a proper night of sleep?”

“Dunno.” your words were slurred “Before you left, I guess.”

Even if you couldn’t see it, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come back.”

“He needed me.” you said decisively, before rambling almost self-consciously “You were busy, didn’t wan’ worry you. I-” you sighed and gave up trying to explain “He needed me.”

He felt his heart swell on his chest. You exhausted yourself because you put the kid’s safety and well-being, and his own peace of mind, over your own needs. The love he felt for you only grew even more.

“Come on” he said while sliding an arm under your knees and the other behind your back, your head resting on his chestplate “Let’s get you to bed.”

While he carefully laid you down he took note of your attire, his cheeks warming when he realized you were wearing one of his shirts, sleeves rolled halfway up your injured forearms (what can he say, he found forearms of any kind very attractive).

You rolled in your side, your eyes focusing on your surroundings.

“This isn’t my bed.”

“No,” he said, sweeping a stray strand of hair away from your eyes “it’s mine.”

“But-”

“No buts. Sleep.”

You sighed contentedly, snuggling the kid close to your chest, falling asleep almost instantly.

Din stared at the sight before him, a shy smile hanging on his lips under the helmet: you, curled up on his bunk, holding the kid close. It warmed his chest inside.

Yeah, he thought. He was home.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x gn!reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin fluff #grogu baby yoda #grogu and din #the mandalorian fanfiction

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writtenonreceipts · 9 months

Text

Rowaelin Month Day Eight: Single Parent Au @rowaelinscourt

Rowaelin Month Masterlist Where We've Been Masterlist

Warnings: nothing too major? ~6.5k words

Where We've Been, Where We're Going--Part Six

Aelin awoke with a start the next morning.

Sprawled out on the small couch in the waiting room, she’d forgotten where she was for the briefest of moments. Her dreams had been filled with running through a small apartment trying to get free from her pursuer. Constantly looking over her shoulder. The impending knowledge that she wasn’t safe. Needless to say, she didn’t sleep well.

As she remembered where she was, that she was safe, she sat up and ran a hand through her hair. The small window of the waiting room showed off an early morning sky that wasn’t yet dusted with the pinks and golds of a rising sun.

Outside the door were the usual sounds of a hospital: nurses talking quietly, med carts rolling, shoes squeaking on linoleum. It hadn’t bothered her throughout the night, for which she was grateful. The hospital was slowly waking up with the usual ins and outs of operation which meant Aelin would soon need to leave.

She only had a dinner shift at the diner, and she knew Nox wouldn’t be mad if she was late, but considering she was on an hourly wage and needed the tips, getting there on time would be better for her.

Sitting up, she stretched out her sore back. She’d have to make sure not to wince or waddle when talking to Malakai or she’d never hear the end of her stubborn refusal to go home to a real bed.

She stuffed her hair into a bun, certain it still looked like a rat's nest, and gathered her jacket and phone. The battery was well on its way to dying so the sooner she got to her car where the spare charger was, the better.

As she headed up to Emrys’ room for a quick check in, she ran into Yrene who was finishing up at a nurses station.

The brunette smiled. “Hey, did you stay here all night?”

“Yeah, I wanted to be close in case anything happened,” Aelin said.

Yrene nodded in understanding. She reached out and gave Aelin’s arm a squeeze. “He’s a strong man. And stubborn as they come.”

“I know.” She did her best to smile, unwilling to break down in front of Yrene who always appeared so strong and composed all the time. “I just want to swing by the room before I head back to Terrasen.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

Yrene initialed a patient file before putting it back where it belonged at the nurses station. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, but there were a few flyaways escaping. The curls framed her face, emphasizing her dark hazel eyes.

“So, how have you been?” Aelin asked. She didn’t know Yrene very well, only from the occasional check-ups and some medication prescriptions. But, Yrene had a quality about her that spoke to kindness and surety that Aelin appreciated.

“Oh, same old,” Yrene laughed. “A few nurses quit last week so my workload increased a bit.”

She rolled her eyes even as Aelin stared in slight horror.

“It’s fine,” Yrene insisted, “I get double overtime and everything. Besides, I’ve gotten really good at sewing up barbed wire injuries.”

“You still deserve a break,” Aelin insisted.

They stepped on the elevator to head up to the recovery wing. Unlike yesterday, Aelin was able to remain mostly calm. She kept herself as close to the door as possible still, ready to jump out at the first chance.

“Who needs rest?” Yrene chuckled.

“When was the last time you had a girls night?” Aelin asked. “You should come into Terrasen. You, Nehemia, me and Marion, we can have a night out of fun.”

That gave Yrene pause. She fiddled with the pager at her waist as she thought. Aelin had a feeling she knew exactly what was going through the other woman’s head: new friends, too busy, do I really have time, easier to ignore it. She knew those thoughts. As much as Aelin loved new people and having fun, she’d grown warier as of late. She knew how easily her cover could be blown, sending up a smoke signal to Arobynn telling him where she was.

It had come close to happening after the debacle with Chaol over a year ago and why she didn’t entirely trust the man anymore.

“If you don’t want to,” Aelin began.

“No,” Yrene said quickly. “No. It sounds fun. I’ll take a look at my schedule and let you know.”

The elevator opened up a floor and had Aelin bouncing out as soon as she could. Despite the care she took to hide her emotions and her unease, she’d been failing more often in recent weeks. She used to be good at it--protecting herself from other’s eyes. For her own sake and the sake of her daughter she needed to get back to that point.

“Great!” Aelin flashed her brightest smile. She had to be careful around Yrene’s keen eyes. The woman had seen some of Aelin’s past medical records--the healed broken bones and scars--and would know what they meant. While Yrene was a professional, and bound by HIPPA, she was still a good person who would look out for someone in a bad situation. As long as Aelin acted like everything was alright, Yrene wouldn’t comment on it.

She could hope.

“Marion doesn’t seem like the type to go out,” Yrene commented with light amusement.

They headed down the hall as dawn slowly began creeping in through the skylights and windows. It was set to be another beautiful summer day, even with all the turmoil surrounding them.

“Oh, she doesn’t,” Aelin agreed, “she’s always been a little closed off. She bit my head off the first time I invited her out to lunch. It just takes a little bit for her to feel comfortable around people.”

We all have things we need to keep hidden, she almost said. She bit her lip and kept those words to herself.

The recovery wing was quiet as they rounded a corner to Emrys’ room. Malakai was already up and in the hall as the doctor and a nurse did a morning evaluation.

“You look terrible,” Malakai said, giving Aelin an appraising look.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh thanks.”

“I told you that you should have gone home,” he said.

“I’m fine.” The crick in her neck said otherwise, but Aelin ignored that. “How is he?”

“He woke up,” Malakai said, “still groggy and confused, but he did wake up.”

“Good,” Aelin said, “that’s good.”

She glanced to the room where the curtains were drawn. She wished she could have gotten to see Emrys at least once, but she did need to get going, especially if she wanted to relieve Nehemia from Meiri duty.

“Will you give him my love?” she asked. “I need to head back to Terrasen.”

“Of course,” Malakai agreed, “go. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

Aelin nodded. “I’ll check in with Luca and make sure he’s going to his summer classes.”

“Chaol knows what he’s doing,” Malakai reminded her.

Aelin kindly ignored him. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to Yrene.

“Text me about your schedule.”

Yrene told her she would and satisfied, Aelin headed back to Terrasen.

…

Rowan stood at the top of the ladder and stared at the window pane he was trying to install. This really was a two man job but considering he knew no one in this damned town, he was determined to accomplish this on his own.

Last night he’d made the impossibly stupid decision of staying in Terrasen to help finish the renovations on the Inn. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did it--other than the fact that he actually liked Malakai and Emrys.

Maybe it also dipped into the idea that he wanted to make a difference. For so long he’d been entrenched in pain and war, blood and misery. For so long he’d done what others had told him to do to the point he never really knew what he wanted. Until the end.

Until that last raid when he’d made a deadly choice.

But this wouldn’t lead to death.

Unless he slipped off the ladder.

Rowan looked down. He’d probably survive.

Good thing heights had never bothered him.

He turned back to the window pane. With careful leveraging he could manage this on his own. But for the rest of the windows? Maybe he would have to enlist some help. Which would require talking to people.

Hell.

After another twenty minutes, Rowan did manage to finagle the window pane into place and secure it with the necessary equipment.

Sweat poured down his skin as she finally made it down the ladder. It was barely one in the afternoon and he was ready to call it a day. Even after spending years hauling equipment through the Kovac desert and sitting in a sniper's nest--there was something particularly grueling about this today.

He hadn’t been sleeping of course. Hadn’t been training every day, all day. His body was trying to adapt to its new circumstances and seemed to be failing miserably.

When his feet hit solid ground, he stripped off his shirt to wipe off the excess sweat that was dripping from his forehead. As he’d come to learn about this part of the state; it was endlessly sunny. The blue sky allowed for no relief. Not that Rowan wanted it.

He stood in the parking lot of the Inn, bare chested and let the sun pour down. He could taste the remnants of dust on his tongue and hear the quiet hum of cars drive past on the main road. If he focused, if he closed his eyes and waited--he was back in that desert waiting for orders.

The low growl of a closely approaching car drew his attention and he opened his eyes to the blinding light of the sun as a black SUV pulled into the parking lot. The engine cut off and a man hopped out of the driver's seat. He had to be Rowan’s same age if he had to guess. He was handsome with black hair and a charming smile. There was something familiar about the easy way he held himself.

“You must be Rowan.” The man proffered a hand to shake. He wore a suit that had to cost at least as much as the SUV he drove. “I’m Dorian, the city mayor.”

Rowan shook his hand but was otherwise unsure what to say to the man. He’d met many political types in his time in the army and hadn’t liked any of them. All he could really do was nod and mop his face with his shirt again.

“Malakai mentioned you might be staying in the front office for the day,” Dorian said, glancing at the ladder and mess of window equipment. “He didn’t mention you’d be working.”

There was such an easy way about him, that Rowan could see how someone could be disarmed by the man. Since Rowan could now count on one hand the number of people he trusted in his life, it was easy to keep his defenses up.

“I figured I’d try and repay them by helping out,” Rowan said.

He remembered meeting a business man out in Kovac who would essentially loot abandoned villages and look for any opportunity to get his hands on money. It was one of the things that led to Talbot’s death. And that final raid.

All because of one man.

Rowan knew why Dorian was familiar.

“Havilliard,” he said slowly. Dorian’s smile froze in play. “Dorian Havilliard. I’ve met your father.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Dorian said, “the man’s a bastard.”

Rowan eased back a step. Henry Havilliard had come to Kovac because his business was investing funds in the war and had wanted to see sites where his money was being used. Which had led to the attack miles outside of base camp.

In reality, Rowan knew he couldn’t blame the sins of the father on the son. He knew that. But it would be so easy to.

“You served in Kovac, didn’t you?” Dorian asked. “That’s mostly where my father invested.”

“Three tours,” Rowan said. Three tours over four and a half years. And then a year of training stateside before that. It shouldn’t have happened that way, he should have had more time between tours. Should have given himself a break, but after Talbot…everything had spiraled out of control.

“My father never understood what it was like to serve,” Dorian said, “never really understood what his work was doing.” He held Rowan’s gaze for a few moments before looking away. “Even with all the time he spent over there.”

No one understood what it was like. Not until they were holding a dying kid in their arms and had blood staining their lips.

“Did you need to get into the office?” Rowan asked. He didn’t need to talk about his military time nor did he need to try and bond with a Havilliard.

“No,” Dorian said, he cast another look over the motel. “I just thought I’d stop by and introduce myself.” He paused. “Are you planning on finishing the renovations yourself?”

Rowan shrugged. “May as well. Sartaq is still finishing my truck.”

Though, if the last text was to be believed, the truck would be finished by the end of the day.

Dorian nodded absently. “Malakai was worried about being ready for the county fair. You know--”

He was cut off by a loud squeal.

“Uncle Dorian!”

The small voice carried across the parking lot and was followed by the emphatic pounding of feet. When Rowan looked around until he saw running along the sidewalk toward them was Meiri. Her blonde hair bounced wildly about her face and an infectious smile beamed at him. As she got closer he noticed she wore a pink tutu skirt paired with a blue Spider-Man shirt.

Behind her trailed Aelin at a quick pace with Meiri’s backpack slung on one arm, coffee in hand.

“Hey kiddo!” Dorian knelt down as Meiri nearly bowled him over.

“You missed pizza night with Mia!” Meiri told him. She smacked her hands on Dorian’s cheeks and looked him dead in the eye. “You never miss pizza night.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said, he genuinely seemed apologetic. Though Rowan wondered if that was from missing the pizza of missing time with Nehemia. “Next time I’ll be there, I promise.”

Meiri held out one hand, pinky in the air. “Pinky promise!”

Aelin watched the exchange in bemusement that had Rowan wondering how often Meiri sealed deals with pinky promises.

“Pinky promise,” Dorian agreed. He hooked his pinky with hers.

Satisfied, Meiri turned to Rowan. Much like the first few times they’d met, she shied away from him, just a little. Though, she still eyed him with interest.

“Hi,” she said, “did you get pancakes today?”

“Nope,” Rowan said, “no pancakes.”

“That sucks,” Meiri said.

“Meiri!” Aelin scolded, dropped a hand on her daughter's head. “That’s not a word I want you using.”

“But Luca says it,” Meiri said. She shook her mother off and patted down her hair aggressively.

“Yeah and he’ll be in trouble too,” Aelin assured her daughter. “It’s not a nice way to talk.”

Meiri immediately became uninterested with the mild chastisement and ran over to the tool box sitting out beside the ladder. She poked and prodded before she found a measuring tape and got to work measuring out every little thing she could.

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” Aelin said, drawing Rowan’s attention away from Meiri who crouched beside Dorian’s SUV, tape measure extended over the tires. “Sartaq left me a message saying your truck was done.”

Rowan ran a hand through his hair, the sweat helping it stick back out of his face. He nodded to the pile of window and construction equipment off to the side.

“Decided to help out a bit until Emrys was back on his feet,” he explained. How long had it been since he last checked his phone? If he’d known Sartaq had finished he would have gone to pick the truck up.

Aelin’s expression betrayed nothing even as her head cocked to one side. She didn’t exactly trust him, that much was for sure. But she didn’t dislike him either. At least…as far as he could tell. Though, Rowan was certain that she’d never admit to such a thing.

“You should stick around for the county fair,” Dorian said. He had an earnest grin on his face that had Aelin scoffing, but Rowan didn’t think the malice was directed at him. “It’s a good time.”

“You’d do anything to keep numbers up,” Aelin said. She rested her hands on her hips and gave Rowan a look. “The reelection is coming up.”

“I’m just saying, food, music, and fireworks,” shrugging, Dorian looked a little chagrined. “And, there's a sharpshooting competition. Been around since the fair started. I’m sure Chaol would like the competition, no one’s beat him in three years.”

The offer was genuine, easily extended. Rowan, however, had no inclination to pick up a gun again. Not for a long time. And not unless he had no other choice.

“Yeah, maybe,” Rowan said. He ran a hand over his jaw contemplating if he could get out of this conversation by just walking away. He hadn’t touched a weapon of any sort in months, not since being discharged and the thought of handling something else…

Meiri ran over to Dorian, the measuring tape flailing behind her.

“Uncle Dorian! Your car tires are this big!” Meiri held up the metal tape that made a distinct whipping sound.

“Thanks kiddo,” Dorian smiled down at Meiri.

“Momma’s gotta go to work, can I stay with you today?” Meiri asked. She released the tape measure so it snapped together sharply.

“Sorry, princess, I’ve got a lot of meetings today.” Dorian cast an apologetic look to Aelin who grimaced.

“I should have texted you beforehand,” she sighed. “I guess I can ask Mrs. Olmstead…”

“No Momma!” Meiri cried. “She never has any cookies and she doesn’t like to dig holes. Plus she smells funny.”

Dorian had to turn away to keep his laugh hidden and Aelin’s lips were pursed so tightly, Rowan worried she’d bite into them.

“The cookies are the biggest crime,” Dorian said. He patted Meiri on the head. “I need to head down to my meeting. Have all the fun with this.”

He nodded to Rowan and gave Aelin a peck on the cheek before returning to his SUV. The car turned out onto the main road, disappearing around a corner with a honk in farewell.

It was only then that Aelin cleared her throat before plucking the tape measure from Meiri’s hands. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but she is a very nice lady. We can dig holes tomorrow.”

“Please, Momma?” Meiri clung to her mother’s leg and tugged insistently.

It was a moment that was amusing and endearing. Meiri in her tutu and large blue eyes and Aelin’s will crumbling bit by bit. Rowan could remember a similar situation years ago.

A daughter. A mother.

Each desperately clinging to the other.

“I can watch her,” Rowan said, the words leaving his lips before he knew what the hell he was thinking.

Aelin blinked, clearly shocked by his offer. Well, there was no turning back now.

“Do you like to dig holes?” Meiri asked. Her blue eyes widened expectantly as if it were the most important question in the world.

“Sure,” Rowan said, “I spent my summers burying my school books so my mom wouldn’t find them.”

Meiri pondered for a minute before she nodded once. “Okay. We can have pancakes too!”

She took the measuring tape back from her mom before running to his tool box and taking the level out. She held the tool in her hands with obvious care before heading over the window ledge of the front office.

It was easy to see Aelin’s uncertainty on the matter with the way she gripped Meiri’s bag in one hand.

“We can just hang out at the diner if you want,” Rowan offered. “You can keep an eye on her, I’ll color with her or something.”

For as long as he could remember, Rowan had never been a kid person. He’d never known what to do around them or with them or…anything really. The last kids he’d been around were his cousins but that had been ages ago, back before the war. And frankly, Rowan wasn’t sure if he should volunteer for this. After spending years around Lorcan and Fenrys combined there was no telling what Rowan would let slip.

Plenty and cursing that was certain.

“I,” Aelin began. She sighed and rested a hand on her hip. The tank top she wore left her golden arms on display. She even had a few freckles spotting along her shoulders. Summer looked good on her. “Alright. Marion has reading hours sometimes at the library, if you stopped by I’m sure she’d help you out.”

“Alright,” Rowan said. That would work out well. He remembered how much Sellene liked to read and Endymion could spin tales like no other. “We’ll stop by.”

Aelin slowly pulled a key ring from her pocket and unwound a key. She held it out between two fingers.

“I’m going to trust you,” she said, “don’t make me regret it. I’m off at eight, but Nox might let me leave early. You can go back to my place and watch Barbie movies if she gets too rowdy.”

Rowan accepted the key, tucking it into his fingers. The metal was cool on his skin and seemed to weigh a little heavier in his grasp.

Trust was a heavy burden to own and he really wasn’t sure if he deserved it.

Meiri skipped back over to them holding up the level so she could peer through one of the small openings between one of the bubble vials.

“Are we gonna get pancakes?” Meiri asked.

“Better,” Aelin answered, “Rowan’s going to take you to the library.”

Meiri gasped in excitement. “Yes!”

Aelin smiled as she crouched down next to her daughter. “Listen to Rowan, okay? I’ll see you tonight after work.”

“Bye, Momma! I love you!” Meiri threw her arms around Aelin’s neck, nearly smacking her in the head with the level.

Chuckling, Aelin dodged the near assault. She gently took the level from her daughter. “Let’s be careful with Rowan’s tools, these aren’t toys.”

Meiri nodded, the picture of innocence.

Aelin stood, drawing this good-bye out as long as she could. Even Rowan wasn’t completely detached from human emotion to notice.

“I’ll make sure my phone’s charged,” Rowan assured her, “and I’ll get your number from Marion. If that’s alright.”

“You have a phone?” Aelin asked, brow raised. For the first time that day she was actually directing her amusement at him and not disdain.

“I haven’t used it in a while,” Rowan admitted. The only reason he new where it was was so Sartaq could keep in contact.

Despite the small bit of humor she’d just displayed, Aelin still looked hesitant. One hand flexed toward Meiri who now butted her head into Aelin legs. “Just keep me updated.”

“Updates every fifteen minutes,” Rowan promised.

That got a genuine smile. “Thirty minutes is fine.”

…

“Do you like reading Meiri?” Rowan asked as not more than ten minutes later he and Aelin’s daughter were rounding the steps to the library.

The building was small, tucked right up against the post office. When they entered the double doors, Rowan got the distinct scent of fresh paper and static cleanliness that could only belong to a post office. It mingled with the subtle undertones of cedar and book musk.

“Yeah!” Meiri said. “My favorite is the story of the princess who has to go find her family in the lost castle. Do you know that story?”

“Uh, no.” The last book Rowan had read was…hell, he couldn’t even remember.

Meiri sighed. “Do you know the story about the ducks?”

“No.” Whatever fascination Meiri had once had for him was certainly draining away now. Quickly.

They entered the main lobby of the library where there was a large display of children’s books set in the summer months and a cutout of a puppy with balloons tied to its collar. Fly away with reading! Was written out overhead.

“Well what do you know?” Meiri asked.

Rowan thought back to what Sellene would have read at Meiri’s age. “What about Snow White?”

“She doesn’t have a sword.”

Well at least Rowan knew Aelin was giving her daughter a well rounded view of the world. Though, admittedly, a lot of fairy tales could be improved if the princess had a sword.

“I’ll ask Marion for help,” Rowan assured Meiri.

He found a small table where he could plug his phone in and let it charge enough to make sure it would actually turn on, before making sure Meiri was settled in the picture book section. He made sure not to go too far where Meiri was out of view as he looked for Marion. Despite how small the library was, he wouldn’t take his chances on Meiri running off.

It didn’t take long before Marion appeared from a back room with a stack of books in her arms. She paused when she saw Rowan.

“Hi,” she said, “what are you…?”

Rowan jutted a thumb back to where Meiri was picking out books. “I’m helping Aelin out with Meiri.”

“Aelin let you take her daughter out of her sight?” Marion obviously did not believe what Rowan was saying. She propped the books she held on one hip as she walked to the main counter. “She doesn’t know you.”

“Yeah,” Rowan said. He shrugged. “I don’t really know why either.”

Marion set her books down and brushed adjusted the bun her hair was knotted in. She reached for the small phone sitting next to her computer. Rowan didn’t even try to argue as she immediately began texting.

“Her shift just started,” he offered helpfully.

Marion only glared up at him. For such a small woman, she would have made an excellent army ranger. He could see her ordering a group of soldiers around without much effort at all. Hell, she could even give Lorcan a run for his money with that scowl.

“Why would I kidnap a five year old and immediately bring her to a library?” Rowan added after Marion finished her message.

“Because you’re up to something,” Marion said. “Showing up to a small town and offering no information about yourself. Helping out a family you just met. Don’t think I haven’t heard about what you’re doing for Emrys and Malakai.”

It had been, maybe, a half hour since speaking with Dorian and already the gossip was circulating.

Determination flashed in Marion’s eyes. As well as mistrust. Rowan had spent plenty of time trying to understand people, interrogating them, learning everything he could about them that he knew these subtler human emotions.

“I tell you my secrets if you tell me yours,” he offered. And then, to make a point he added: “Marion’s not even your real name, is it?”

That got a reaction. Marion stiffened, just barely, but it was enough to tell Rowan enough. It was a cruel thing to point out, especially given how protective and cautious she was--but he knew, he knew, there was something different about her.

“Can I have Aelin’s number? I told her I would text her with updates.” Rowan tapped a pad of sticky notes for emphasis.

Marion muttered a curse under her breath but did as requested. She handed him the note, jaw set with anger.

“Thank-you,” Rowan said.

He went back to where his phone was charging, unlocking it and disregarding the missed messages waiting for him. Those weren’t important. There were only three people who had his number and he didn’t want to talk to any of them. Well, technically a few others but dealing with ghosts never got him anywhere.

He tapped out a quick message to Aelin.

>>This is Rowan. Meiri is currently well on her way to emptying out the entire library.

He debated sending a picture along with it but decided against it. He doubted Aelin would want a near stranger having pictures of her daughter on his phone.

Hell. She must have been desperate to let him take Meiri for the afternoon.

Just as he moved to set the phone back down a new message buzzed through. He thought it was Aelin already responding until he saw the I.D. He should have known they would reach out like this.

<<im back stateside

<<we need to talk

<<its important

<<you cant ignore me forever

Rowan frowned. Well he sure as shit could try.

He locked the phone and went over to the small play area where Meiri was rapidly accumulating a large pile of books. She sat at a small table with a book propped up before her. One finger trailed along the words as she slowly mouthed the words out.

“K-k-kwik,” she said, “the dog was quick.”

Rowan didn’t know much about kids, but he had a feeling Meiri was far above the usual reading level. She glanced up when he approached and waved her book in the air.

“C’mon, you said you’d read with me.”

So, Rowan went over and took a seat in the tiny plastic chair beside her and read about the dog that ran all through a small town wrecking havoc as it went. Every few books, Meiri would get up and wander around to find another book or two and bring them back for Rowan to read.

She was so entranced by each story, Rowan didn’t have the heart to shirk his duties so he wound up doing voices and accents for the different characters. He made sure to send Aelin messages along the way--ignoring the ones from his old contacts--and just tried to keep Meiri entertained.

Eventually Marion came over with a coloring book and giant box of crayons for Meiri to color with. The girl happily took the items and set to work, choosing to go sit in a corner next to a giant stuffed elephant.

Marion sat in one of the kid chairs across from Rowan, chin propped in one hand.

“You know,” she said, “that kid is one of a kind. And Aelin loves her more than anything.”

It wasn’t anything Rowan was surprised to hear. Meiri did seem like a different kid than most. And Aelin’s love for her was one of the first things Rowan had noticed in the diner that first day in Terrasen. He eyed Marion wondering what she was getting at.

“When Chaol and Aelin were dating, well, if you could call it that,” Marion shrugged, “he wanted something serious and she was just trying things out. Anyways. They were doing whatever and he tried to find her family. Or…I think he did. Almost told them exactly where to find her too. I’ve…I’ve never seen her more upset.”

Marion paused, picking at a hangnail.

“I don’t know exactly what happened in her past,” she finally continued, “but I know enough. And if…if it was anything of what I went through then she deserves to be happy, to have this time and place for her and her kid. You should have seen the look on her face when Chaol said he found her cousin. I swear she was going to leave right then and there, murder him too. She just wants to raise her daughter.”

The words sunk in slowly, taking their time to nestle into Rowan’s brain. He could hear what was left unsaid and come to his own conclusions. It didn’t mean he could trust any of it. Not that Marion or Aelin would blatantly lie about this sort of thing, but they could certainly leave out bits of truth.

“I’m just here for myself,” Rowan said. “I’ll leave as soon as Emrys is back on his feet.”

Marion smiled. “Didn’t you say the same thing about your car?”

She was, unfortunately, right.

“Rowan?” Meiri said, scrambling up from beside that stuffed animal. Crayons went flying as she moved. “I’m hungry.”

He smiled at the little girl with her wild hair and mismatched clothes. Confident and strong just like her mother.

“Alright, let's get something to eat.”

If there was anyone that could keep her child safe from the wiles of the world, Rowan was sure it would be Aelin. He just hoped that one day, maybe, she’d be able to stop running.

…

The heat of Kovac dissipated only slightly when a storm blew in. Instead of being a dry and consuming heat it had turned into a melting pot of humidity. Dust and sand kicked up from wind and the few trucks that were still on the move, leaving everything in a hazy glaze. Adding to that a burst of rain and lightning, the desert felt like a whole new type of misery.

Supposedly, the one thing to come of it all was that there would be no scouting or fighting that day. Rowan wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. For a while now, he’d felt on edge. As if he were always waiting for something to happen--and IED to go off, a sneak attack to occur, something that he couldn’t fix.

He tried to play it cool, to ignore the way his thoughts would latch on to every negative and dangerous thing. Tried to pretend he was being logical in his worry, that he was simply preparing for what may come. It was flimsy at best and a part of him knew it. Ever since the raid last week and the reality that they'd be getting a new commander…Things were changing and Rowan didn’t like it. Lorcan or Gavriel were more than capable leaders and if Maeve wanted to divide the squad, she could just keep Gav in his current position and promote Lorcan. Or even Vaughan. Bringing in a new body now seemed like a stupid idea. Rowan knew better than to argue against Maeve when she had her mind set on something, though. It wasn’t worth the demerit.

He simply tried to keep his frustration at bay. His squad mates had only offered the usual glare in Maeve's direction at the announcement. They each felt the frustration but there was nothing to be done at this point. Not if they wanted to keep things running smoothly.

Unfortunately, they were set to meet Hammel that day. He’d arrived sooner than anticipated, which Rowan would choose to see as a good thing, a way to get into a new rhythm and normal before the next planned raid. In the week since the announcement, Rowan had done his own background check on Hammel. Perhaps it was an abuse of power to call in the favors he did, but he’d wanted to learn everything about the man he could.

He’d spent the last year and a half in Oregon on a small base up there as a trainer. Many of the men he’d worked with had gone on to get accommodations, many even being stationed in Kovac as well. There was a brief incident report of someone breaking into his off base apartment and beating his girlfriend before stealing some cash and the tv. Something about that didn’t seem right, but it was only one report relating to Hammel. He was an excellent marksman and scout but his true skills lied in stealth work.

Officially, Hammel was a good soldier. One of the best.

Unofficially…well. There was only one comment from a young cadet who had been discharged part way through boot camp after “over escalating” a situation between her and a fellow cadet.

Lieutenant Hammel did not take my comments or safety seriously in this investigation. I would formally request placement in another unit. The cadet had instead been honorably discharged before vanishing entirely.

It wasn’t a lot to base his opinion on, but Rowan was already coming to his own conclusions.

So when the official call came in for the Cadre, as they were known by, to meet with Hammel--Rowan did his best to let the irritation fade away.

"Gentlemen," Hammel greeted once they were all seated.

The briefing area was as hot and muggy as ever, settling them all with another level of discomfort.

Lorcan as usual chose a back corner seat, hardly sitting at attention. Gavriel maintained his decorum and the twins were as lanky and childish as ever. Rowan glanced at Talbot who had been whisked into the squad after the last raid and Hernandez transferred him. Rowan didn't know the reasonings, but he liked the kid so he didn't argue.

Before them now, Hammel stood tall and at ease. Though, there was no mistaking the cold silver of his gaze and the harsh lines of his face. His red hair hung to his shoulders and he wore a cold ring on one finger. He didn't seem the least bit concerned with anything but himself.

“I've heard you're undisciplined and like to cause problems." Hammel raised a single brow looking as though he couldn't have cared less about the lot of them. "Not under my command. There have been too many slip ups and unsuccessful raids. These mess ups will no longer happen or I'll make sure the rest of your weeks here are as miserable as your lives."

It was quite the speech, not that Rowan was truly intimidated by it. He'd already experienced hell and this man wasn't going to make things worse.

"We'll start with a practice training tomorrow, no matter the weather conditions, you've got to be capable of working through anything. Sniper!"

Rowan sat up, lifting his chin.

"Only five confirmed kills," Hammel lifted a lip. "Do better."

"None of my men have died in the last two tours I’ve done," Rowan said, "sir. I've protected my men."

That sneer only broadened. "When I give you an order, soldier, you accept it. No arguments."

Rowan only stared at the other man. He fought the urge to gauge everyone else's reactions. Hell, he wanted to see Gav most of all. Gav who’d been their leader for nearly two years now and was being sidelined for someone younger.

Rowan had known war wouldn’t be easy. He’d known he would kill, potentially be killed. He knew his perceptions of life would change and that nothing, nothing, would be the same when he was finished. But to be told to take more lives? To add more chaos into the world?

“Yes, sir.” Rowan didn’t salute. He didn’t move a muscle until Hammel turned the conversation to the next raid that would take place as soon as the storm passed and this time they would see results.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Tumblr isn't allowing me to tag blogs properly so any reblogs would be greatly appreciated! <3

#rowaelin #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth2023 #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #throne of glass #tog #fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction

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ego-meliorem-esse · 4 months

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I do love your takes because they mirror mine in a way, I am curious about your take on François relationship with Ludwig and partly with Antonio too. Alasdair is a free soul like him, there's not much to say about it there I think. Baby brother stole everything even the french menace and it bothers him but won't stop him. I do wonder about your take on Alfred's own relationship with Ludwig and the italian brothers. I hc he and the south get along really well but he clashes with North Italy bc he doesn't understand why Italy hides behind his airheadness. I know I'm in anon, sorry but I have many things on my mind and don't want to develop my own op right now bc it will take time to write it down

Ohh yess

Ok just a heads up, this is an expansion on the previous François post:

Ludwig and François have an interesting dynamic. At first glance it might seem like they are polar opposites in almost every aspect. And who knows that might be true, but there is an appeal to me of the sad depressed and drinking-wine-in-bathtub-at-3-am François calling up Ludwig just to chat and get reassurance that it'll be fine. Ludwig is young. He feels like he needs to prove himself on this old world continent. He feels the need to work more just to get to where the rest are. And as an economic powerhouse, he feels somewhat responsible for keeping the peace. Though, despite that, he is kind. And in the recent years (cough cough after Brexit cough cough gurgle fall over die) he and François have gotten close. As close as the ghosts of the past will allow, at least. So, if there is anyone willing to talk to, and even come over and make sure the Frenchman is not drowning in the bathtub or the wine, it's the german lad. Even if he's just sitting on the toilet, laptop on lap, doing work and listening to François' rants. It's the kinda dynamic François can relax in. He doesn't enjoy Ludwigs quiet company always, but it's a nice break from bickering with Arthur and debating with Alfred.

Antonio is a different story. They are very similar in their worldviews and mindsets. Two past empires grown up under Rome (more or less) and getting dunked on by the rat man extraordinaire and his big fat rat baby. If François is going to do dumb shit and get plastered in the town center, he's doing it with Antonio. Gil is also included. They are not the type of friends to talk about their feelings and go emotional on each other. But, naturally there is mutual respect and understanding. "The world has changed and its pace is too fast for us now."

Alasdair is someone who has seen and stood next to François for a very long time. I think he understands the inner workings of François better than most. And, in a certain way, better than even Arthur. From the fall of Rome to the 7 years war, Alasdair kept frequent contact with the man, both physical and if unable to visit, by letters. Alasdair is the one trapped between worlds and emotions after the Treaty of Versailles in 1763. Matthew, whom he adores so much, was abandoned by the man he deeply feels for. And in times like these it's very human to take sides, despite actively trying to understand each party. Alasdair chose Matthew. A boy he almost saw as his own. And François felt the shift. Less frequent letters and visits, as well as somewhat reserved communication when in person. They are still important to each other and always will be. But nations, in my hc are very human. I understand the appeal of making them non human eldritch beings, but i think they are very very human in their emotional and mental capacities and understandings of the world. Wiser and more experienced sure, but human non the less.

You also mentioned Alfred and the Italy bros. I'll do a separate post on their dynamic. However ye i do agree, Alfred and Romano are closer than Alfred and Feli. But what i will add is that Alfred doesn't dislike or find Feli off-putting due to the mask of airheadness. It's the fact that Alfred does the same and knows what it's used for and how it works that doesn't sit right with him. He knows the mask is a front for a sharp mind and knows that there is intelligence behind it.

#hetalia #ask meli #hws america #hws france #hws germany #hws spain #my headcanons #hetalia headcanons #ill link the first ask regarding francois but not right now lol

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intriq · 3 months

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chapter 1 of my fic;

I’m sorry I’m the one you love

i went w this title cus it fits how i perceive AK jason feels towards being loved (he feels unworthy of it ur honor)

keep in mind this fic is.. gonna be both fluff filled AND angst filled (did you think i’d ever let you and jason always be happy? lmao no. ur getting the same treatment my ocs do)

In the eyes of the world, you didn’t matter. You were nothing more than a pest, a filthy rat scurrying around Gotham City. Even if you haven’t lived here your whole life, you still became a part of it’s problem. Not like you had any choice, considering you were but a child. Long since abandoned by your parents in a city you’ve since skipped and left, you find surviving in Gotham just as hard. But it’s tolerable. You know how to defend yourself, with bruises and healing knuckles to match. Gotham wasn’t an easy place to survive, much less for someone who barely knew how the city worked. All you knew is that danger was constantly lurking, in every corner and every street. You had no wariness of who the streets belonged to, of the rules etched into its architecture. All you knew of was survival.

Scavenging whenever you could, stashing the little food you could. Of course, because of you being essentially new to Gotham you weren’t aware of the rules. Or the territories and who owned what. All you knew was to run and fight to survive. Perhaps thats why he took a pittance to you. Seeing you do your hardest to survive, like him. He’s a scrawny kid, like you are. You’re both doing what you need to, in order to survive. The first time he’d seen you scrambling to steal food in the section of Crime Alley that he’d gotten in exchange for selling out his parents, Jason felt like you and him would get along. Defending this strip of land was lonely, granted him few allies considering no one wanted to even attempt to challenge him.

The first time you two talk, you worry he’ll attempt to take your hard-earned spoils like anyone else had. You’d clutched them closer to yourself, almost glaring and poised to strike like a snarling dog. The only difference being the lack of bared teeth. At the time, you were more like a wounded, cornered animal. You’d been injured because of a previous fight, pain flaring in what felt like all over whenever you attempted to move. So moving around was futile, the headache that accompanied it being the source of most of your discomfort.

It was cold, as cold as the alley you called home was dirty. It smelled and was located right outside some bar that smelled absolutely horrid. A putrid stench that lingered and seeped into the clothes of whoever hung around it. The stench clung to both you and him, mixing with the smell of car exhaust, trash, gasoline, and the other smells that clung to Gotham about as well as it’s crime rate.

But that’s fine. Jason’s been sitting still, inching closer to you every few hours. You’ve been defensive, and Jason doesn’t quite get why he is bothering at all to get you to trust him.

The first week he meets you it’s all he seems to do. When he’s finding himself food he can’t help but let his thoughts drift back to you, the only other scrappy kid that has bothered to stay around in what is essentially his turf for longer than usual. Jason’s come to learn most of what makes you tick, for the most part. Like how you refuse to move when he’s present or even looking at you, how you refuse to eat when he’s present. Jason doesn’t even get why he still bothers with you.

And you?

You don’t get it either. You don’t get why this kid just keeps coming back. You don’t bother talking back to him, just sitting there and nursing what hurts. The alley smells enough to make your head pound and hiding behind the dumpster when more rowdy drunken folk stumble outside for a variety of things. But you make it work, you suppose. And you don’t mind how the free food that comes with his company. You don’t get him sometimes, though. Don’t get his tenacity. Why he still bothers.

But maybe it’s because you also don’t understand looking forward to his short, fleeting visits. But perhaps it’s the idea that the moment your stupidly painful bruises and whatever else is wrong are healed and you can move, that he’d up and disappear. The silence between you both is as equally unsettling as it is comforting. The faint chatter of drunken patrons from the bar you rest near is just loud enough to have the same faint buzz of insects. And the air is warm and putrid, filled with the hideously disgusting odors that every city such as Gotham brings. Just any other sensible Gotham kid would give you a wide berth, but yet here he is.

Here this random scrawny street kid is, insistent on getting you to trust him. He used to talk to you, or try to. His words were always met with silence on your end. But perhaps he only continues to try after the first time he heard what sounded like a faint breathy laugh underneath that sigh you’d made to cover it up. You can’t even remember what he’d said that had been funny, but he does. It was a stupid joke, something about how this disgusting alley was at least a little warmer and better than the colder, draftier parts of the city and that the warmth was the only thing that made it worth staying in. Truth be told you’d rather be anywhere but here, even back with your parents even if they just might barely give a damn. But it was warm and never smelled. Maybe that’s why you laughed, because there was places better than this shit-hole of a city you now called home.

Yeah, maybe that was it. Maybe that’s why he sticks around, you think. Jason thinks that’s why, too.

#dc universe #jason todd #may be non canon compliant #ak!jason todd x reader #ak!jason x reader #ak jason #arkham knight jason #arkhamverse #dc fanfic #arkhamverse fanfic #this is gonna be slowburn #prepare for shenanigans bc these guys r gonna ve #SO OBLIVIOUS #like so oblivious you and alfred will be standing there #going oh my god PLEASE #JUST CONFESS ALREADY #and its gonna be glorious #with angst!#intrique's dc things

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skywarpie · 7 months

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i’m eepy but lowkey want to write something where Primo bakes something with buttercream frosting and knows that little Copia has been having a bad day and let’s him lick the spoon…

older bro/dad figure Primo to kid Copia is taking over my brain rn

I got you fam.

Primo gently removes the cooled cakes from the tin pans. He stacks them upon each other as he grabs the bowl that's off to the side with the buttercream icing.

Baking isn't really something Primo considers himself good at. He does have experience with making at least two cakes a year. It's a tradition he'd started for his younger brothers when their birthdays arrived. He'd tried to do the same with Copia, but by the time he had arrived Primo was bogged down with work. It made earning free time much harder.

He scoops a dab of the icing out and plops it on the cake. Using a spatula, he smears it on the surface.

Primo's just about to grab another scoop when he hears sniffling.

His eyes tear away from current taste, looking to the doorway. It wouldn't be uncommon for a sibling of sin to be caught in emotional turmoil. Only, Primo didn't really feel like dealing with it.

The noise stops and with a shrug primo goes back to cake decorating. He gets about halfway through when out of the corner of his eye he catches his youngest brother standing on his tiptoes to see on the counter.

Copia is quiet and it's something that Primo has always loved. Unlike Secondo and Terzo when they were his age. Primo still thinks his hearing hasn't recovered.

"Did you finish your lessons for the day?" He finally breaks the silence.

Copia nods and mumbles something.

Primo sits his tools down and wipes his hands on a towel, and that's when he sees it. He snatches the boy's face in his grasp but Copia refuses to look up at his eldest brother. At least until Primo out muscles him.

There's a dark yellow and purple bruise that circles his left eye, the eye itself looking practically bloodshot. "What happened?" Primo's voice is stern and chides himself on that when he sees Copia violently jerk and then shrink in his grasp.

"What happened?" He repeats quieter this time, kneeling to be eye level with him.

"It was an accident." His voice is small.

Primo waits for more.

"I - I was bothering them." The look of deaf on Copia's face makes Primo feel nauseous. The boy didn't have many (if any) friends and he seemed to be a target for constant bullying. But he always refused to rat out the culprits. Primo is pretty sure he knows who it is though.

"Hmm." He wants to say more but he doesn't want to push him. He's been through enough for the moment.

He stands and reaches for the spatula he'd been using. "Here." He hands it to Copia. "I think I've done enough baking for the day."

Copia gladly takes the icing covered spatula and starts licking it. He sits on the floor near Primo's feet while the man finishes cleaning up his mess.

#the band ghost #skywarpie writes #okay here ya go #hope you like it

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dckweed · 1 year

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hello babes, ive been working hard on plotting this series for weeks now and im quite happy to be posting the first part! Now look, im normally a tom cruise gal okay? And I went into TGM totally expecting to have my usual Tom moments like I do with any of his movies (im looking at you Top Gun, Days of Thunder, and the outsiders) but i..i had my fair share of moments over every character okay? And currently, my fixations are Bob and Hangman.

Hence, my baby Sugar Sweet was born at the moment i have this plotted for five parts, but it could definitely be extended. Please comment below and let me know if you'd like to be added to a TGM tag list ! Reblogs are always appreciated and feel free to send in some requests !

summary: hangmans very existence annoys you, he thinks you're adorably easy to frustrate. maverick knows your situation and knows you need a roommate. when he says he knows a guy named jake, you don't expect him to bring hangman to your doorstep. but can you really afford to turn him away?

warnings: mentions of death, glen powell himself is a warning because just mm he's so mouthwatering, mentions of body/weight, roommate!jake, cursing, angst? no fluff yet, no smut yet. this is fairly slow burn. reader is mostly referenced to as SUGAR..

word count: 3,519.

SUGAR SWEET, jake "hangman" seresin.

Looking back on it, Jake had never really been sure what he actually liked in a woman, every woman he'd ever slept with was usually somewhat tall and usually pretty thin, most had smaller breasts and tight little asses, and for most of his sexual adult life, that's just what he assumed his type was. Though, when he got to thinking about it, none of these girls had ever given him the feeling that his friends talked about when they were with their significant others, hell he had even asked his brother during his wedding reception how he knew that his sister in law was the one and all he had said was "i just knew". God, looking back on it now, Jake had thought that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. His brother had gone on to explain that he just had this feeling with his wife, one that he had never felt before with anyone else (and like Jake, his brother had seen his fair share of women). Jake thought that that was absurd too.

Well, until you came along that is..

Jake was a gym rat through and through. He spent alot of his down time at the gym, he loved watching the way his muscles worked and grew the more that he did, the longer that he did it, and he loved finding new ways to challenge his body.. So, when their top secret detachment was finished and the Top Gun leaders requested the dagger squad to stick around for a while as a more permanent group, he knew that the gym at the base just wasn't going to cut it for him anymore, and before he bothered looking for a more permanent place to live, he sought out the best gym in town. The one that just so happened to be your place of work.

You weren't necessarily the normal person you'd find in the gym, sure there were thick girls in here, but they were girls that were thick in all the right places, with tight abs. You? You were on the opposite end of the spectrum. You were short, and curvier than a country back road, of which got you plenty of male attention sure enough when you were in your teens and were smaller than what you were now, but stress and constant working had taken its toll on you and your previous work out regiment, because of course you weren't an absolute stranger to working out. At twenty five you now had a bit of a pudgy stomach, and you swore your hair was already turning gray from the stress of your life but your little brother constantly reassured you that you were just insane, something you desperately adored about him, though you would never tell him that he was the main cause of your stress.

Needless to say, you weren't what most people expected to see when they first walked into the Iron Side gym, and you certainly weren't what Jake was expecting when he walked in the morning after buying his membership, gym bag slung over his shoulder. He looked like a God wrapped in sunshine, was your first thought when the bells above the door tinkled, before you recognized who he was and rolled your eyes.

You'd seen him around before, when you caught the late evening shift a few nights a week at the hard deck, he was always the most noticeable one in the group of pilots he hung with, but how could he not be? Always so loud and obnoxious..God, what was it his friends called it? Badman? Bagdude? Ba.. "Bagman, isn't it?" You say, finally landing on a name you had heard thrown around towards him once or twice.

He raises his eyebrows, pushing his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. "..fancy meeting you here, sugar.." He says, fishing for your name, he knew it somewhere in the back of his brain, had heard Bob or maybe it was Rooster call you by it a few different times. He'd only seen you a handful of times, enough to know you only worked the bar a couple nights a week, if that, and definitely enough to know that he hadn't ever expected you to be at the gym, let alone, his gym.

"It's Y/N," You say, irritated as he sends you a flirty smirk. You roll your eyes as he fondles for his membership card on his key ring, holding the orange and black plastic card up to the scanner. It beeps once before he walks away, tossing you a look over his shoulder as he heads towards the locker room.

"Well, Y/N, the names Hangman." He winks at you, and you roll your eyes, plopping back down into your desk chair. You didn't have times for guys like him, and the games they brought with them. You'd had your fair share of them too.

It isn't hard to ignore him, the gym isn't too busy but you have phone calls to focus on, reminding patrons that their memberships are coming due again, though that doesn't stop you from noticing him a few times, your eyes catching once or twice on the way the muscles in his back moved as he worked at the cable machine, the lat pull downs really doing what they were supposed to..

You must've been staring for longer than you realized, mind drifting off in a daze because before you know it, there's a chin dropping on your shoulder and strands of curly hair whispering at your face. "Whatcha lookin' at?" The familiar voice asks, you let out a small screech jumping in your seat before relaxing, your hand going to the side of the boys face to give an affectionate pat to his cheek. "Jesus, Y/N, jumpy much?" He chuckles, pulling back from you.

"You scared the shit out of me Kai!" You half yell, standing to your feet to fully look at him. He ducks as you bring a hand up to swat at him, and backs away with a shit eating grin. You notice a dark forming bruise in his hairline as he does and you narrow your eyes at him. "What the fuck is that?" You ask, grabbing his chin in your hand and turning his head to the side. The bruise is large, and goes down towards his ear, like someone had boxed him real good. "Kai Alexander did you get into another fucking fight?"

He pushes your hand away, eyes flitting around the gym. You look around too, rolling your eyes when you notice Hangman looking your way, your voice probably prompting him to pause his workout.

"It was an accident okay? I promise, im fine.." He says, voice more hushed now. You notice he's wearing a black hoodie with the gyms logo on it, and a pair of shorts. He had come to work out, you figured you could at least let him and save the interrogating for at home.

You sigh, hands on your hips. "Alright, fine..go get your training in.." He kisses the top of your head before heading off towards the same area Hangman was in, you watch as they talk to each other for a brief moment, Hangman looking back over at you with pursed lips before going back to whatever he was doing.

"An accident my fucking ass.." You mutter, sinking down into your chair again with a groan, your brother really was the cause of most of your stress.

The rest of your day drags on, and by mid afternoon you're more than grateful for the second receptionist and floor manager to make his arrival. "It's been pretty slow, but there's supposed to be a few group training sessions tonight.." You say, grabbing your purse and water bottle and motioning for your brother to head towards your car. He had been hanging around cleaning some of the equipment for you while you worked, stressful as he may be, he was still always helpful to you in that kind of way.

The drive home is quiet and you both sigh when the front door of your small house closes behind you, a stack of over due bills clutched tightly in your hands. You were in need of a roommate, something you'd desperately been trying to find for the past month or so, someone who could help pay rent and utilities, because even with two jobs you just weren't cutting it alone.

"I'm going to get ready for my shift at the bar, let me know what you want for supper and ill make it for you before i have to leave.." It had been two years since your father had passed away, two long years and you had done everything in your power to make life at home as normal for your brother as possible, which included eating supper together every night.

Kai grunts as a way of letting you know he heard you as he passes through the living room and goes straight for the hallway, smacking the top of the door frame with his hand as he does, a teasing way of reminding you that you couldn't reach it. You roll your eyes at the teenager, shuffling right behind him.

The Hard Deck is busy tonight, you and Penny work behind the bar efficiently enough though, pouring IPA's off the tap and handing bottles of corona's and budweisers to the numerous aviators and civilians that littered the bar.

The music is loud, someone keeps repeating the same Tom Petty song on the stupid jukebox in the corner and you want to punch them for it, but the chatter of the folks is even louder. You're able to drown it out as you focus on a couple of regulars you hadn't see in a while, falling into easy conversation with them as you pour their drinks, catching up like You'd known them their whole lives.

You're turning away from one such conversation to grab a couple of glasses for a couple that had just seated themselves near you when you hear his voice, the Texan accent thick when he calls you that damm name. "Hey Sugar," he says, catching your attention immediately. "can i get a whiskey neat and a couple more corona's please?" He asks, leaning against the backside of the bar.

You take him in, he was plain clothed tonight, no ugly tan of his service khakis, and handsome as he was, you couldn't help but to be annoyed by his very presence, you weren't sure if it was because you were attracted to him (because you would have to be absolutely stupid not to be, Hangman was an absolutely beautiful man, and you weren't that hard of sight to not notice it) or if it was because guys like him got on your nerves..or a combination of both, and that goddamn accent didn't help.

You weren't overly fond of the cocky confident type, but good lord it did suit him. The man exuded confidence even in the way he leaned against your bar, casually enough to most people, but you could tell that there was something almost more to it.

You nod in his direction, finishing what you were doing before pouring him a whiskey neat and grabbing the beers from the ice box. You hand them to him, and he knocks the whiskey back instantaneously, swallowing it as if it's water. You had to admit, it was kinda sexy. "Thanks, Sugar." He says, winking has he hands you back the glass.

"My name is Y/N!" You say, watching as he turns to head back to his friends, who had grouped around the pool table. A couple of them turn their heads to watch your interaction, your loud voice catching their attention.

"I know!" The man simply says over his shoulder, handing the beers to a woman, who takes it gratefully and the man next to him, who appeared to think that a pornstache was the look to go for. You roll your eyes, turning back to your work.

After a few long hours, the counter starts to empty, and so does the bar itself, and one by one you start ringing up people's tabs, swiping their cards or paying with cash. Another hour or so passes and the man with the mustache and the dark haired woman are walking out together, hanging onto one another as they warble a song st the top of their lungs, completely out of tune.

You chuckle, shaking your head at them before your attention is brought back to the counter as a credit card is slapped down onto it. "I'll pay my friends tabs too, Sugar.." He says, loving the way you go rigid at the name. He can practically feel your eyes roll before you turn to look at him. God, he thought, you've got a killer stare.

"They're aviators too?" You ask, going to the register to do your job, you'd tallied about five or six rounds for him and his buddies, who seemed like they could drink any alcoholic under the table and still be able to fly a plane straight.

"Sure are," He says, smirk cocking on his lips. "they're definitely nowhere near as good as me though, far as i know, none of them have two confirmed air kills." He doesn't even know why he's trying to smooth talk you right now, you aren't normally the type he goes for, but something about the way you look at him like he's about as annoying as a June bug gets his blood pumping. He's not used it that from pretty women.

"That supposed to mean something to me?" You ask, sliding his card back to him, and a copy of the receipt for him to sign. He purses his lips, giving a quick signature. He hadn't ever missed with that line and it was quite obvious to you.

"Guess not.." He says, pocketing his wallet, his ego only slightly bruised by your quick blow off. "Your brother looked like he got roughed up pretty good this morning..that an issue with him?" He was genuinely curious, he could see the furious and frustrated look from across the gym floor and he knew it must've struck a nerve. The kid didn't offer much information about to him either when he asked.

Your gaze turns hard immediately. "Respectfully, that's none of your business." You say, giving him a forced smile. "Have a nice night, Hangman."

He tips his head at you and turns away from the bar, he knew a struck nerve when he saw one, and he already knew enough about you to know that he shouldn't try to push it with you, curious as he was. "You too, Sugar." He says, long legs striding him straight out the door before you can yell after him about how that isn't your name.

You roll your eyes at him, going back to clearing glasses and wiping the beer nut crumbs off the bar. "Insufferable pilots, always have to get the last word." You grumble to yourself, unaware that Maverick had strode into the bar merely a moment after Hangman had left it, here to pick up Penny for the evening.

"What's that about pilots now?" He asks, watching you with an amused smile lifting the corners of his mouth. You turn around, small smile gracing your lips. This was one pilot you could stand to be around. "Hey kiddo, busy tonight?"

You shrug, leaning over the counter to give the man a short hug, you loved the smell of his brown leather jacket. "Not too bad, made decent tips.. Penny's in the office, she'll be out soon."

Mav takes a seat on one of the bar stools, helping you sweep off what bit of crumbs he could reach. "Hey, are you still looking for a roommate?" He asks, remembering hearing you complain to Penny about how you were barely making bills since you had kicked your last one out for giving your brother drugs. You quirk an eyebrow at him, stopping what you're doing. "His name is Jake, he's one of my aviators. He's clean, actually he's too clean if you ask me it's kind of creepy, and he's a pretty stand up dude. He has a cocky streak but he's good for his money and he doesn't make too much fuss."

You purse your lips, thinking on it. Why did the name Jake sound so familiar? It was tugging at something in the back of your brain that you just couldn't quite put your finger on. "What's wrong with where he's at now?" You ask as politely as possible, trying to gauge if he's been kicked out of his current place or something.

"He's been on base for the last couple of months, he's not a student of the academy anymore but he's a permanent squadron member..he can live off base, he just hasn't found the right place..and we need the room he's in, we have a big class coming." Pete says, watching you think it over in your brain.

As long as he's not as insufferable as Hangman, what do you really have to lose? You think to yourself, you can't afford to turn anyone away, not when they're capable of paying without breaking any laws, unlike Devon, your previous roommate. "Okay, well..ill meet him." You say, and Pete smiles triumphantly. "Bring him by the house tomorrow, after Kai goes to school, ill be home all morning."

You spend the entirety of the next morning nervously cleaning and arranging your small house, your brother trying his best to stop you and calm you down, he knew better than anyone how you felt about strangers coming into the house. He offers to stay home from school, but you glare and tell him he better get on his way. Kai does as told, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he grabs a protein bar off of the kitchen bar type counter, swinging his school and duffle bag full of his baseball gear over his shoulder.

God, you really hoped this worked out because you were dreading having to tell him that you couldn't afford to keep him in baseball if it didn't, you hated taking things away from your brother like that always so disappointed in yourself for not being able to provide for him the way that he needs or wants. Your father would be disappointed too you were sure, the man bad always made sure that his children had everything they ever asked for, no matter how hard he had to work to get it. You often found yourself wondering why you couldn't do the same as him, before you remembered that you lacked a highschool diploma, and had barely obtained a GED certificate. You had had to drop out of school when he got sick, he couldn't take care of everything himself like he used to, and Kai certainly wasn't old enough either at the time.

"I'm doing my best daddy.." You sigh, looking at his picture up on the small fireplace mantel in your living room. "I just hope I'm doing it the right way.."

The doorbell rings and you jump, the noise cutting through the dim reverie of your life. "Coming!" You yell, doing a final sweep of the room before taming your wild hair in the mirror for a moment.

"...she cooks too, you know.." You distinctly hear Mav's voice through the door as you unlock the deadbolt, taking a deep breath before pulling it open.

Your eyes land on him immediately in all his tall, sun-kissed, cocky avjator glory. You'd be damned to hell if you said he didn't look good standing there in his green flightsuit, black t-shirt just barely poking through the gap in the collar. Your gaze trails downward, his helmet is attached at his waist, and you noticed his brow was awfully sweaty and smudged with a bit of dirt. They must have been doing flight runs this morning. "Him?" You glance at Mav, bewildered. "You?" God, what gave him the right to smell so damn good when he was so clearly hot and sweaty and covered in..airplane grime.

Jake takes you in, your jeans are up high on your waist, but loose fitting and they did look damn good on you from the front. Your top was cropped just enough to show the patch of skin between your tummy and bra that your breasts filled out entirely too well. When Mav had said that he was taking him to meet someone, a girl named Y/N, he hadn't even registered it as your name in his mind. In his mind you were simply - "..Sugar, fancy meeting you here."

Pete looks between the two of you, the ghost of annoyance littered on your face, the cocky smirk sliding its way onto Jake's.. "Hold on..you guys have met?"

#top gun #hangman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfic #top gun maverick #jake seresin imagine #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun maverick imagine #tom cruise #glen powell

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starryeyedadmirer · 1 year

Text

Brad Pitt: Cleaning Day

-Brad x Reader-

!!CW!! — None

Synopsis: Though you enjoy spending time with your neighbor — Brad — you can’t deny that he’s got a serious hygiene issue. His body is dirty, his house is dirty… and damn, his mind is dirty too. He usually lives like an overgrown sewer rat, but — by some miracle — you’ve managed to stop by his place on a rare occasion — Cleaning Day — and, in the spirit of friendship, you’ve volunteered your help. Though he doesn’t take you up on your offer quite the way you expected him to — as far as cleaning the apartment goes — he does have a job for you… and there’s something in you that just can’t refuse it.

Words: 1,538(+/-)

A/N: I saw a few photos and gifs of Brad going to town on his belly button (posted them all below) and lost my fucking mind!!! God, these are so damn hot😫!!! The idea of him being a gross bastard to his core — just living in dirt — and helping him clean things up is like heaven in my mind… especially after seeing him dig for gold like that. Also, sorry if the writing isn’t the best. It was super late when I first wrote this, and I haven’t revised it in months. Anyway, this story doesn’t really have much to it… it’s literally just the interaction before things get weird… but I may pump out a part 2 for it, if I’m feeling up to it. Anyway, enjoy!!!

Wattpad Link — “Celebrity Worship Fics” Series

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You love going over to Brad's house, it's your favorite hangout spot on the weekends — when you don't have to go to work. You have a good time whenever you're there — playing card games with him and his girlfriend, smoking old cigars, and drinking cheap beer, right out of the case. You feel like a kid in a playground when you're hanging out at his place... but his apartment is far from perfect. Brad's got a pretty major issue with dirt... it seems to pile up wherever he goes. He always got a bunch of shit laid out all over his place — grody, smelly underwear strewn out around the room; old food containers that needed to be thrown away ages ago; and loads of loose, stinking trash. You try to excuse his less-than-satisfactory cleaning habits... as deplorable as they are. He's a close friend of yours... and you grew up with seven older brothers at home — what's a few pairs of nasty underwear to you? If you've learned anything from your childhood, it's that a little dirt never hurt anyone... even if there's a lot of it. You're at Brad's door now — on the first Saturday of the month — waiting for him to answer your knock.

"Hey," he beams, opening up for you, "What's up, mi compadre? It's been a while, huh?" He's standing in his doorway — butt-naked — with only a set of yellow cleaning gloves to cover his hands. It's a nice sight for sore eyes — the look of his lean, toned body... his well-defined v-line, and smooth thighs — but definitely not what you were expecting to see at this time of day.

"Y—Yeah...," you stammer, trying your best to stop your eyes from wandering too far down, "... about a week... I think. How you been... man?"

"Pretty good... pretty damn good." He gives you a quick once-over with his eyes — taking note of the fact that you're wearing clothes — then looks down at himself. "Oh... uh, so about that, mi amigo. It's... uh... cleaning day around here. I like to be free when I clean... let the little guy out for some fresh air, ya know... give 'em a nice mist-bath with the good stuff."

"Uh... cool," you reply, awkwardly staring down and his junk, "Well... I hate to bother you on cleaning day, but are we still on for the evening? I brought this new racing game I think you'd like. You can make your own car... customize the license plate, and all that kind of stuff."

"Nah, man," he sighs, looking back into his den, "Can't today. Gotta fix the place up. You can, uh... come back tomorrow though. I'm game then, if you are." He rubs a hand over his chiseled abs. They're pretty great for a guy who sits around on his ass all day — well defined, like an eight-pack of bread rolls. He's gotta be on steroids, or some hard drugs — it's the only explanation that could make any sense... for everything.

"Yeah... yeah... I'm down with that. I'll definitely come by tomorrow. I'm still free today though... I could stay and help you clean if you need."

He gives you a half-cocked smile. "Nah, man... you don't have to do that."

"Oh... okay. I don't know why I even offered. I'm sure a guy in as good a shape as you can handle a thorough house-cleaning on his own."

"Oh... thanks. You won't believe this, but I'm totally stuffed right now, dude. Found an old box of donuts tucked under my bed... couldn't not eat 'em." He looks down at his stomach, and pulls at the skin on his belly button. "Guess my abs still show pretty nice, huh?"

"Yeah. They're pretty sick."

He pulls up at his skin — admiring each and every ab on his stomach — then tugs at the rim of his belly button once more. "Woah," he says to himself, "Looks pretty gnarly in there. Guess I gotta clean that too. A little spray oughta do."

Brad looks back up at you, with a douchey smirk across his face, and starts poking around inside the hole. His yellow-gloved finger swivels around within the confines of the tight rim, squelching and slipping with the sound of rubber and sweat... it does something to you. You feel yourself getting flustered almost immediately — jittery, and warm all over — although you have no idea exactly why. He's an attractive man — no doubt about that — standing completely naked before you, in all his sculpted glory.... and though he looks like a Roman dream, seeing him in his natural state isn't what's thrown you for a loop. You've been at his door for minutes now, without having a single reaction to his nudity — not even the slightest erection — and yet, the mere sight of him touching his navel has got you throbbing.

"Digging for gold, huh?" You joke, trying to diffuse your sudden tension. "Those gloves really came in handy. Wouldn't wanna get all that gunk on your finger."

"Sure," he shrugs, putting the rubbery digit up to his right nostril. There's specks of black dirt and lint all over it — gross stuff from the depths of his umbilical hole. It's obvious that it hasn't seen a drop of soap in ages... but what else would you expect from a guy like him? Brad's the kind of guy who brags about how many days he can go with a single pair of underwear around his hips (8 days is his most recent record)... who fills his tub up with bleach, to wash his dirty sheets when they start to stink... the kind of slob who eats months-old donuts from under his bed, without a single qualm. "Woah... that stinks," he groans, pulling his head back from his finger, "Get a whiff of that."

He puts his hand up to your face, swiping the black speckles right over your lips. "Woah! God, man! What's on that thing," you exclaim. Acting purely on instinct, you push his hand away, and cover your nose with your shirt. His glove smells disgusting — of old cheese and festering sweat — like the deepest crevice of an armpit, that hasn't seen a single swipe of deodorant for years. You can only describe the odor as... horrid. "Damn, Brad! You gotta spray something in there, dude! What the fuck!"

"I know... that's awful." He closes his eyes for a second, taking another swipe of the scent for himself, and leans in. "You, uh.... said you're free today, right?"

"Yeah... I am."

"Well, uh... if you insist on staying, you could help me clean. An assistant spot just opened up around here... cleaning assistant, that is... and I know a good place where you can start."

"Really? Okay. What do you want me to clean first?"

He grabs your shoulder with his soiled glove, and ushers you into his apartment. "Here's the thing, man. Um... I'm gonna need a little help getting around in there, ya know? Why don't you, uh... get down on the floor... and clean it out for me. I swear it's not a big job... just something quick... for the both of us."

"W—What's that?"

"It's, uh... it's my belly button. Go ahead and get in there for me... clean it up a little." He forces you onto your knees with a smile on his face, looking down at you like you're one of the numerous streetwalkers that he pays to sleep with him, every now and then. "Get going, man... that thing won't clean itself." His dick is right in front of your face — hanging over his balls — half-erect.

"Uh... okay... you answer," staring nervously at his cock. That hot feeling in your face intensifies — shooting throughout your entire body — and commands you to do as he pleases. "Want me to use that blue spray over on the windowsill? That's Windex, right? I think Windex is pretty good on skin."

"No... no," he whispers, "Use your tongue... like a cat. The tongue is a great tool, dude... nature's sponge. They're super sensitive... can get into every nook and cranny of any object. Just feel around in there, man... pick out some of the crap. I know there's a lot more gunk where that came from." His hand gently caresses your chin, pulling you in closer to the shallow hole. You can smell it from where you are — the terrible sweaty odor is ripe on your nostrils.

"The... the crap?"

"Yeah. Go ahead, man... time's a'ticking. Oh, and once you finish the job, I'll let you play that racing game on the TV in my bedroom... while I clean this place up. But you gotta do it well, okay. I'll watch you work... and inspect it once you're done. It don't have to be spotless... just lick around until you don't taste anymore dirt." His dick twitches in front of your face, perking up at the mere thought of you licking his belly button. He's got lust in his eyes, and that same douchey grin on his face — staring down at you. "Now, let's see that pretty little tongue of yours get to work, huh."

"Oh... okay. Sure."

Thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️!!!

#starry eyes #brad pitt #brad pitt belly/tummy #brad pitt navel #smut fic #brad pitt smut

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mydarllinglover · 10 months

Text

Alone || Haunted

They had left the top of the hill, walking away back the field Natalia and Daisy patched up in.

"Why are there always so many people bothering us?" Daisy asked. "Why are there so many wars?"

"'Cause, honey, before all this, men could argue over sports, and before sports, they fought in wars. No more sports, they had to resort back to war." Natalia explained.

"Hey, this was a woman." Negan reminded. "This time."

"Yeah and it was you and the jolly green giant backing her up." She raised a brow.

Daryl had sent Daisy over to the patch of flowers, after showing her how to make a daisy chain, giving her something to do.

The two men sat on opposites sides of the log, whilst Natalia laid on the grass, staring at the sky.

It was silent between the three of them, before she started to chuckle, then that turned into a giggle, until eventually she was hysterically laughing.

"Dude, she's lost it." Negan muttered to Daryl, leaning over the log, watching Natalia.

"Shut up, man." He nudged him back over.

"Oh, god, it hurts so bad so laugh, but it's so funny." Natalia continued to giggle, holding her sides.

"Nat, what's going on?" Daryl asked her, shuffling off the log to sit beside her, holding her gently. "What's so funny?"

"My life, Daryl, my whole existence is a joke." She covered her mouth, trying to stop the laughs. "It's, the whole thing is just disaster after disaster!" She cracked.

"And that's funny because?" Negan continued to be nosy.

"Well, for starters I was born in 1985, y'know, the year of the 9000 victim earthquake in Mexico, and the spread of aids, and don't forget the Japan airline crash. Then, at the age of four, my father dies from a peanut, Hello, a peanut, one! Singular peanut! I mean, how the hell does someone just die from that, something so small!" She cracked up. "Oh, and spoiler alert, I found out I was also allergic, cause my mom's drug addict boyfriend, who was supposed to be babysitting me, fed them to me! Cause he was too doped up to tell the difference between them and pretzels! And then my Mom married my step-dad, who was a really great guy, I mean, he got me out of going to Juvie, he was kind, he never grassed me up, he's the one who supported me when my Mother found out I was pregnant in college and cut me off, then drove me to the hospital, when I went into labour during graduation! Which I finished top of my class, by the way, because my boyfriend at the time was too hungover to even bother to show up! But because I was a twenty-two year old mother, no one would take me on! Because they didn't trust it, and they called me unreliable, and a free monthly check ready to happen. At the age of twenty-five, guess what happened?" She didn't let them answer. "Dead people started walking and eating the alive people! Then my boyfriend kills himself, eats my daughter, I have to put down the both of them, which were my first ever walker kills, by the way, and then, I had a miscarriage, with no one around but my dog, who was also murdered!" She cackled at this. "Then I begin a feud with a man who had taunted me with rats! I hate rats! And then more people come along, and these are bad, bad people, they did terrible things, and I was left with no over choice but to kill them, because If I didn't, those bad things would either continue to happen, or they would just slaughter me. But then, then I met you." She smiled at Daryl. "And Rick, and Glenn, and Carl, and Maggie, and Beth and they are all gone! They're dead, the first good people, who made me feel like a person, are all dead or gone, and you're always too busy with other stuff then being around me, you might as well be gone! Anyway, and then, we spend months on the road, I had to spend months on the road with people who hated me, who didn't trust me because of the way I was forced to survive, all with a pregnant woman, who acted as though sleeping with her husbands best friend was such an heinous thing to happen to her, because nothing bad happens to angels like her, and she's just soo innocent, and this baby is such a curse! But she dies, too, because everyone dies, and I get shot! I got shot whilst I was playing ball with my dog, and you weren't there, because you left us! You left us for your brother who kidnapped Glenn and Maggie and beat them, did terrible, terrible things to them, but oh no, that's not the worst thing to ever happen to them, was it! I've been through three wars, I've been shot, I've been held at gunpoint, I survived by myself, and with a group of men who looked at me like I was the freshest cattle at the market, then I had to survive a herd, from inside a car, Oh, my twenty-seventh birthday? We met Evie, and thank god we met Evie, cause she's just amazing, but then a few days later, red poncho guy had to show up then disappear, and then Evie's dad dies, rip, Rick made us move that herd, and then I accidentally kissed you, and get this, if it wasn't for Michonne, I woulda never made a move on you, cause I thought I'd be cheating on my dead boyfriend." She wheezed.

"And then two months after that, our friends are brutally killed in front of us, and we get kidnapped, and some guy touched me, and I didn't even get justice, because that was taken from me, from the guy who kidnapped me! And then we escape, I get married, yay! We fight the war, and we win, once again, go us! But then I find out I'm pregnant, whilst hanging above walkers, literally hanging above them! Rick goes missing, my daughter gets kidnapped, I go into labour in the woods, whilst fighting a group of walkers, that I could barely do, because I was so large! We had a couple of good years, really, really good years, and then we move into the woods, and I get pregnant again, but that's fine, because I delivered him by myself, and then Carol shows up, she wants us to take care of her son, you said no, but god damn it, I'm so weak, I just had to cave, we go to Hilltop, and instantly get sent on a mission, Jesus dies, so sad. The kids escape from under our nose. We have to sneak into unknown territory to lure them back, and then we have to fight whisperers in an abandoned building, but then Henry gets hurt, because of course he does, and then the fair, oh, the fair. I spoke to Alpha, I was going to put Archie down for a nap, and she came and spoke to us, and I replied, I had a conversation with her, then walked away, I knew something was off, and I chose to ignore it, because Archie needed a nap, and then she brutally murdered my friends... my daughter had to see her best friend's head on a spike, and I wasn't even there to comfort her. I was in a freaking mine explosion, I was dead-"

"Nat, you didn't die." Daryl held her face, trying to make her stop talking, stop reliving all these memories, but she was on a train that had no other stations. "You didn't die."

"No, no, I did, for a little bit, I was dead, there's no over way to explain it, I died." She grinned at him, like a crazy person. "And I was stuck in this house, it was my old house, with Harry, and Winnie, and everything I did, or wherever I went, he would kill her, and I would wake up in the shower, and he would do it again, over and over, and over again, and I didn't know how to make it stop, I killed him, or I would kill her, or I'd avoid them, no matter what I did, she died, because I can't protect her, I'm not a good mother, and she died because I'm not, and the only reason I am here right now, is because my other daughter had to bring me back and help me get her out of there, and then she- she killed people, Daryl she killed those two whisperers on the hill, I don't think she knew they were alive, and not walkers, because I called them walkers, because I couldn't do it myself, so I turned killing real life, human people, into a game... a game! And she cut her arm. My baby cut her arm, and my other kids, I don't even know where they are!"

"They're okay, Nat, they're fine, they're with everyone, and they're okay." Daryl told her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about the cannibals!" She wiped tears from her eyes, because she was laughing so much.

"Natty, I really think you need to stop laughing, and sleep, instead."

"I've been asleep!" She snapped, looking up at him. "I was asleep for a whole day."

"No, you were unconscious for a whole day, and you lost so much blood, that I had ta donate mine." Daryl turned harsh. "That ain't resting. Daisy, get over here!" He called the girl over, who instantly came running at her fathers instructions.

"Yes, Daddy?" She asked, her Daisy necklace looped in her hands.

"You and yer Mama need some sleep, you ain't slept in over twenty four hours, so yer gonna both lay down, under this blanket." He pulled the blanket out from Daisy's backpack. "And yer gonna count sheep, till I wake you up, got it."

"Daryl..."

"Lay down, till you stop with the crazy talk." He demanded, gently pushing her back down, and instructing Daisy to come lay beside her, but of course Natalia opened up her arms for Daisy to snuggle in. "Ain't nothin' gonna get ya, no one's gonna hurt ya, sleep."

Natalia let out a grumble, but she got comfortable, snuggling with her daughter, whilst Daryl "tucked them in" before sliding back up the log.

"Shit, man, I- I knew she had issues, but... she never told me all that." Negan sighed, looking at the pair on the grass, when sometime had passed, that they both had to have fallen asleep.

"'Cause she ain't want no one to know, 'Specially not you, of all people, you only know what you forced out of her. An' she missed out a buncha shit, too..." He rubbed his hands together nervously.

They were quiet for a bit, listening to the silence around them, until Negan took a sip from his canteen, before offering it to Daryl, who took it.

"Not to spin a broken record, but I don't think she's comin' back." Negan started. "You know, I'm... I'm not bullshitting you."

"I know." Daryl replied, sounding defeated.

"When I said that I liked it.... that wasn't part of the act."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know, when your people locked me up, I lost everything. You know, seven years spent staring out that little window... man, it sucked. It got so bad, that even my memories had bars painted on 'em. So when Alpha took me in... I admit it, I... I liked it. It was... it was nice feeling like I mattered again, like I was respected. But she took it too far. You don't kill people that don't deserve it. And you never kill kids."

"Is that supposed to make me like you?" Daryl asked him.

"No."

"Good."

"But what about my winning personality?" Negan tried.

"You tried to steal my wife, and ruin my marriage, shit load of times." Daryl answered, getting off the log, and stirring Natalia awake. "Let's go." He muttered to her, grabbing the blanket, throwing it into Daisy's bag and swinging it over his shoulder, picking up his crossbow, then his still sleeping daughter.

"What about Carol?" Negan asked, at his retreating back, but no one answered him, and so he followed instead.

They had returned home, back to Alexandria, where Natalia was reunited with her two other children, Archie, who was still a baby, didn't understand anything else but to be happy that his mother was awake to hold him, whilst Bambi caught her up on everything she had missed, even the parts that Daisy had already filled her in, on.

Judith, Gracie and RJ, were also just ecstatic to see the woman, and so was the rest of her friends and family.

But of course the nicicites hadn't lasted forever, because as soon as Carol had returned home, all four communities set off to an safehouse, of sorts, an abandoned hospital.

Lydia and Evie had also joined them, and Natalia hugged the two girls when they had sobbed their apologies to her, for failing her, which she had to push that they did not, they were children, children who should never have such burdens to carry.

"You should sit down." Negan told Natalia, when she wobbled around the halls, staring out of every visible window.

"I'm fine, and I don't need to be taking advice from you." She told him, leaning on the window sill of the one she had been currently watching out of.

"Hey, it's what everyone's thinking, they're just too scared to tell you." He gently grabbed her elbow, but slightly tightened his grip when she flinched away. "Natalia, you've gone through a shit load, physically, you need to let your body heal."

"I am healed, okay, look at me, cast's and stitches, what else do I need?" She raised the arm he was holding.

"That don't explain why you can barely walk, now."

"I've been walking all day." She furrowed her brows at him. "And my ribs, I was hidden up in rubble."

"No, no, it's-" He reached for her shirt, going to lift it but she whacked him away.

"What the hell are you doing!?" She accused.

"Your stomach-"

"Daryl!" She called.

"Does he know?" Negan asked her.

"What's going on?" Daryl asked, flying around the corner.

"He tried to touch me!" She pointed at the man.

"Yeah, that's cause your wife is hobbling around until she eventually kills herself, Daisy weren't the only one who was cut up, was she?"

"You back the hell down, man." Daryl stared him down, joining Natalia's side.

"Whatever, I'm tired of helping you people." He threw his hands in the air, walking away, in defeat.

"Nat-"

"It's not a big deal, but he grabbed me-

"Show me." Daryl told her.

"What?"

"Show me what happened."

"I- but- nothing happened."

"Nat, I could see it all over, I can tell the difference between walker blood and your blood, this..." He gestured to the blood at the bottom of her clean shirt, clearly it had bled through, without her realising. "Is yours. I noticed it from the start, but you didn't tell me about it, so I didn't mention it, but now you're lying and hiding it? Show me."

"It's not that bad, that's why I didn't-"

"Natalia, show me." He pushed, standing opposite to her, seriousness all over his face.

Natalia sighed deeply, admitting defeat, before lifting her shirt, showing him her bruised, bloody and battered torso.

"I patched it up, its why I didn't say anything, and I didn't need stitches, so it's not even bad." She tried to soften the blow.

"Nat..." Daryl sighed, ghosting his fingers along her side, then checked that no one was around. "Baby, you shoulda told me."

"But I'm okay." She nodded, holding his cheek. "I'm okay, Daryl, so it's okay."

"It's not." He shook his head, looking down.

"It is, our children are all alive, you're alive and I'm alive, Dog is even alive." She chuckled. "That seems pretty okay to me."

"No... no, no it's not." He continued to shake his head, not meeting her eyes.

"It is, baby, it is, it's okay." She lifted his face, kissing him gently. "It's okay, Daryl, it's okay." She kissed him again.

He dropped his head onto her shoulder, his arms went around her, but he refused to properly hug her.

"Why don't we lay down, for a bit, find a quiet room-"

"I ain't gonna have sex with yer." He interrupted, through a sniff.

"That wasn't what I was implying." She laughed. "We can just lay down, for a bit, you need the rest, Luke's still working on his part, there's so many people here, and you need rest. You haven't stopped in days."

"M'fine." He lifted his head from her shoulder, looking down at her, his eyes were red and puffy, he looked so sad, it was breaking her heart just looking at him.

"You can't lie to me, I'm your wife and I'm injured, also, you're a bad liar, too. C'mon." She grabbed his hand, heading down the hallway, to find that empty room she spotted earlier, it had a bed in there, it would do.

"Alright, baby, you lay down, I'm just gonna go talk to Diane, okay? You stay here." Natalia pushed Daryl on the bed.

"But you shouldn't-"

"Stay, I'll be a minute." She narrowed her brows, glaring at him with a pointed finger, backing out the room.

Natalia used the wall as support to help her get to the crowded reception area of the hospital.

"Hey, uhm, Nat." Carol approached Natalia's side.

"Nat!" Rosita swooped by, easing Natalia away.

"Thanks." She smiled.

"Hey, I'm pissed at her too, she tried to kill my best friend, Daryl might have forgiven her, but I sure as hell haven't."

"Speaking of which. We need some time to ourselves, he's, he's been through a lot, too, he needs a lil break, we're just gonna lay down for a lil bit, you'll come let us know when it's time?"

"Yeah, sure, just make sure you're not moaning too loud-"

"Ro! Good intentions only! He'll barely touch me cause he's too scared he'll break something." She scoffed.

"Go cuddle, you deserve it." Rosita nudged her. "Kid's are preoccupied, we're working on shit, I'll come get you."

"Love you."

"Love you, too." She smiled, and Natalia walked away, passing a book shelf, picking up one of the books on her way back to the room.

"Yer back." Daryl greeted her, laying on his back, his head supported by his arm.

"Told you, I would be. So you forgave Carol, after she put me in a coma?" She asked, closing the door and slipping her shoes off, sliding on the bed, next to him.

"Naw, just tryna make sure she doesn't do anything stupid, again. she said sorry." Daryl replied, sliding further down, resting his head on her shoulder, throwing an arm just under her ribs, above the cut on her abdomen, his left leg covered both of hers.

"I don't wanna hear it, don't care. I was being nice to her, and she almost got me blown up." She grumbled, running her fingers through his hair.

"I know, you tried hard, proud of yer." He mumbled, rubbing his head along her chest as he eased into sleep.

She continued to run her fingers through his hair, as he slept, it didn't matter that she was in an unbearable amount of pain, they're gonna make him risk his life in a few hours, and he was too caught up about her, she needed him to believe she was okay, so she'd do what she could to make him believe that.

She didn't realise she'd started humming that song, the song she used to sing to the twins when they were in the womb, Eyes Without A Face, fuck, she loved Billy Idol.

Rosita burst through the door, eventually, looking alarmed.

"You guys gotta get up, they found us, we're surrounded." She told them, when Daryl jumped awake.

People were running around like crazy, when they left the room, throwing things, grabbing things, fixing things, and then some breaking things, it was hectic and chaos.

"Girls, get away from the window- oh... shit..." Natalia muttered, when she pulled the twins from the sills, but then spotted the mass amount of walkers just outside. "Alright, duck and quietly walk back to your area." She told them. "Go play with the cat."

"Archies playing with the cat, with Evie and Lydia." Bambi told her.

"Then go play with Archie, Evie and Lydia, playing with the cat." Daryl told them, resting his hands on both their heads, steering them in that direction.

"I'm scared." RJ grabbed Natalia's hand, his other was holding Gracie.

"But we're safe up here, y'know that." She told the both of them, crouching down.

"You've seen how many are coming." Gracie pushed. "Lot's more than we have."

"That? Pfft, I've seen more, this is lightwork." She kept her cool. "Come on, let's go play with this cat, huh? We don't have to worry about this."

"But you always fight, Aunt Nat, you're the best at it, my daddy said." Gracie said.

"Aunt Nat's on rest, she ain't fighting nothing." Daryl pressed, not only speaking to the kids.

"Yeah, Aunt Nat's gonna sit this one out." She scrunched up her nose at them.

"Our plan is the same." Gabriel started, when everyone stood in the reception area, as he went over the logistics of what would happen.

Natalia stood beside Daryl, even though she wasn't allowed to participate, she wanted to know what her husband was going to be doing. She held his hand, resting her head against his shoulder as they listened.

"We lead the horde away, just not from oceanside as we had planned. Once the walkers are clear, we evacuate to Rendezvous Point B. Luke. We ready?" Gabriel asked the man.

"Yeah, yeah. Uh, technically." He stuttered, standing up.

"That doesn't fill me with a lot of hope." Natalia commented.

"Shut up, he's nervous." Daryl muttered, lowly, kissing her head as he spoke, with out people hearing.

"So, these are the final pieces that we need to connect to the wagon. But in order for it to do the pied piper thing that we need it to do over the cliff, we gotta get from A to B, and I gotta plug and plug, and then we should be good to go." He explained.

"That wagon is on the other side of the horde." Magna, who had returned from the inside of the cave, traumatised, stated.

"So... someone's gotta go through it?" Jerry questioned. "With skins in there?"

"Four groups. Two in each. One carries the cargo, one protects. It's crucial that all the equipment makes it to the wagon." Gabriel continued.

"We can make it through. I'll help." Lydia offered.

"We're willing." Bea, from Oceanside, spoke up. "But not if she goes."

"And why's that?" Natalia asked.

"Stand down." Daryl told her.

"Well, we know she's earned trust with you, but... Oceanside isn't ready. Not with this."

"Says the girl who was shooting to kill at the age of ten."

"Stop." Daryl pushed.

"That's fine." Gabriel said loudly, trying to drown out the commotion of the other two. "As it happens, Lydia's role is in here."

"Look, we're not all gonna make it through." Daryl spoke to the group now. "But this is the only way."

"If Daryl's going, then so am I." Kelly declared.

Natalia made Daryl say goodbye to the kids, before he was required to gut up, she thought it would be best if they didn't see their father dressed up in walker shit, and smelling of it, too."

"You're not gonna die, are you, Daddy?" Bambi asked, hugging him tightly.

"Naw, sweetheart, I ain't." He promised. "I don't die, remember."

"That's cause you can beat anything, Daddy."

"Hell yeah." He grinned at Daisy, hugging her too. "Alright, lemme say goodbye, to my lil man." He took Archie out of Natalia's arms, giving him a dramatic kiss on the cheek, making the baby giggle. "He's getting heavy." Daryl bounced Archie in his arms, weighing the boy.

"He's getting old, soon, we're gonna have no babies left." Natalia pouted.

"That's not an excuse to have another one." Evie piped up.

"We ain't having another baby." Daryl told her. "Five is definitely enough."

"Five, but Daddy, you only have four kids, me, Daisy, Evie, and Archie." Bambi pointed at herself and her siblings.

"Yeah, but Lydia's also under our care, which technically makes her our kid, in a way." Natalia reminded the girl.

"Oh."

"Daryl, time's ticking." Gabriel walked past them.

"That man, he offs one person and thinks he's God, himself." Natalia grumbled.

"Hey, help me gut up." Daryl spoke quietly to her, passing Archie to Evie, kissing both their heads, then giving the twins another goodbye hug, kissing them, too, before reminding them all to stay safe and be good, and that he loves them.

"Alright, stay still for five minutes, Mommy'll be back." Natalia told the kids, following Daryl to the gutting station.

Daryl put the hoodie and the jeans over his clothes, and Natalia put on the large gloves, digging her hands in the matter and spreading it over him.

"I hate that I can't go with you, I hate feeling useless." Natalia told him, as she applied it on thickly, making sure no walker will sense him.

"Better to be useless in here, then dying out there." He told her, "You've done enough, already, you deserve to sit this one out."

"I know, but I still hate it." She pouted.

"Get your back for you, dear?" Luke asked Jules, as he helped her gut up, across from them. "You know I got your back out there, too, right?"

"Oh, and the rest of me?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm good to get that, too."

"Hey, you okay?" Jerry asked Magna, who was also going. "I mean, going back into the herd after everything..."

"I'm fine, you?" Magna smiled, meekly.

"Not at all." He replied truthfully.

"She gets to go..." Natalia rolled her eyes, as she finished up.

"She ain't end up in a coma." Daryl patted down her hair. "Hey!" He turned to Negan, who was stepping from foot to foot, looking rather uncomfortable. "Why you clean?"

"I ain't going." Negan admitted.

"You've done this more'n any of us."

"I am on the tip-top of every skins' kill list. Especially fee fi fo asshole. So if the idea is to get through without drawing a shitload of attention, then I am the last person these people want standing next to them."

"Please, Negan." Natalia stepped towards them, acting all innocent like. "Please, y'know, I'd feel a lot better if you went with them. I mean, no offense to these guys, but, no one will do a better job then you will, I mean, you're skilled, you know what's up, and... you got a winning personality." She played his own words against him. "You'd do it for me, wouldn't you? I'd go out there, but, I'm pretty weak, at the moment. But-- I'd feel so much better if you went with them." She went as far to stand on her tip toes, gently kissing his cheek, sealing the deal. "At least think about it." Then she led Daryl away.

"You're sick." He grumbled to her.

"Need to help somehow, don't worry, I'll bleach my lips, if it makes you feel better."

And it had worked, because Negan had gutted up.

"I love you, don't die on me." Natalia told Daryl, when Gabriel had called time.

"I ain't never gonna." He promised, he kissed Natalia, with tongue, and she knew exactly why, when he pulled away, staring down the tall, gutted up, man, wearing his whisperer mask.

"Daryl, you finished?" Gabriel asked him.

"Yup." He squeezed Natalia's hip, walking with the others, out of the door.

Natalia stood next to Judith, when they closed it again.

"He's gonna be alright." She told the girl.

"I know." She sighed. "Doesn't mean I'm not any less scared."

"That's a good thing, reminds yourself that you care, you're still alive and human."

He waved goodbye to the pair, smiling at them through the window, and they waved bye, back, and then Natalia took her and Lydia back upstairs, they didn't need to see the downstairs part fill up with walkers.

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