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toournextadventure · 1 year

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our little secret ii

Summary: You're never one to turn down a weekend with Lorraine. But everyone seems to think it's the perfect time to remind you of the reality of the situation. At least the rodeo clowns get paid for what they do; you seem to do the job for free. At least you get to have some fun with Lorraine before resuming your Good Girl act.

Word Count: 8.5k Warnings: 18+ smut, swearing, religious trauma, religious homophobia, blasphemy Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (our little secret i) (our little secret ii) (our little secret iii) (our little secret iv)

"Mornin', darlin'."

You kept your eyes trained on Beau in the corral when you felt Huck's arm brush against your own before he slung it over your shoulder. Instinct had you leaning into him. He smelled like fresh sawdust and hay. Smelled like comfort.

"Mornin'," you replied softly.

"Where's your better half?" He asked. That did have you tilting your head to look up into his sparkling eyes and kind smile.

"Which one?" You asked. "RJ's?" You turned to look back at the corral. "Or ours?"

"That idjit ain't nobody's better half." You felt his body shake with a laughter that you couldn't quite hear.

"Ain't that God's honest truth," you said when his fella, bless his heart, tried to wave to the both of you and was toppled over by a stray calf.

"I meant Lorraine," Huck said once you both made sure Beau was on his feet and safe again. "She at another shoot?"

"Yeah," you sighed. Lorraine's smile flashed in your mind's eye. "Guess they're gettin' good at it cause they're gone all the time now."

"Ain't that a good thing though?" He asked. The bell rang, making you jump. You hated when they tested the damn bell. "Means they're doin' somethin' right."

"Guess so," you mumbled to yourself.

You did hope they were doing something right. Lorraine mentioned that she genuinely loved making the films; not always being in them, but the behind-the-scenes, technical side of it. Her face always lit up when she talked about it and you would never wish for her to fail even if it meant RJ had to succeed with her.

But you missed her. You missed having more than two or three days together at a time before she had to leave again. It wasn’t her fault, and you wanted her to have the successful film career she wanted, and you honestly trusted Jackson more than you trusted RJ. None of it really meant much when you couldn’t even talk to her though.

Another calf ran in front of you, beating out the wrangler once again and pulling you back to the present. Seemed they would be the winners over the weekend if they kept it up. It always made for a less than exciting rodeo if the calves kept winning. What fun was there in no one even qualifying? It wasn't like there was any real compet-

"-What the hell is he doin'?" You asked, pointing to where Beau was donning a very specific vest.

"Better not be what I think it is," Huck mumbled before putting his fingers to his lips and whistling.

Beau turned instantly, eyes landing on the both of you for only a moment before he started jogging over. His boots left the smallest cloud of dust behind him until he hopped onto the fence you were both leaning against. He instinctively went to kiss Huck before remembering where he was, redirecting the kiss to your cheek.

"What on God's green earth do you think you're doin' with that on?" You asked as you pulled him by the top of his vest.

“One of the bullfighters got hurt,” he said. “I offered to help since we don’t compete this weekend.”

“Like hell you did,” you said. Just the mere thought of him being in that corral with the bulls had your pulse racing in your ears.

“It’s one weekend, darlin’,” he said with that stupid smile that always got him into trouble. “It’ll be fun-”

“-Beauregard Callaway, you march back over there right this instant and tell them no.”

“You just got full-named,” Huck said quietly enough for only the three of you to hear.

“I can’t just quit-”

“-Huck,” you scolded, turning to look at him next. “Tell him,” you gestured your head to Beau and raised your brows, “before I full-name you next.”

Huck looked between you and Beau as if he was caught between two lions. Which he was, but he better be more afraid of you. Beau was his lover, sure, but you were the scary one. Out of your whole friend group when you were all little, you were the one capable of instilling the fear of god into anyone.

Now was no exception.

“I’d tell ‘em no, baby,” he said to Beau with a shrug.

“That the best you can do?” You scolded again.

“Darlin’, you know he don’t listen to me-”

“-That’s enough, the both of you,” Beau interrupted. “I done said yes already and it’s only one weekend.” He looked you each in the eye before he smiled. “Ain’t never been hurt before.”

“And you ain’t gonna get hurt, right Beauregard?” You asked with a raised brow.

“If the crick don’t rise,” he said with a wink at Huck before hopping off the fence and starting his walk back to the gate.

“You get hurt and I’ll kill you myself!” You shouted after him. He didn’t look back, but flipped his hand up in a half-hearted wave of acknowledgment. Huck laughed beside you and you turned to glare at him next. “You too, Hucksley.”

“Well shit, darlin’, no need to drag me into it,” he grumbled as his smile fell. “I ain’t even the one in trouble.”

“Not yet,” you said quietly before looking back out at the corral once again.

It was mid-afternoon by the time they let Beau go for the rest of the evening, convinced he was good enough for the actual rodeo over the weekend. You made sure to slap him upside the head when he came back around just as an added threat. If he got hurt, you would make it a dozen times worse without hesitation.

“We headin’ to your daddy’s again?” Huck asked when he started the truck up.

“Think so,” you said as you leaned forward between the two front seats. “Momma was s’posed to make supper.” You took note of their linked hands near the center console and smiled to yourself.

Would you ever be able to hold Lorraine’s hand out in the open like that? To just drive around, laughing and singing to the radio without a care in the world? It was finally the ‘80s, surely that had to count for something. Not that the year had anything to do with the many other reasons you weren’t with her.

You’re going to hell, your mind reminded you. It’s a sin. Right. There was a much bigger reason. It continued to eat you from the inside out, picking you apart like a kid feeding bread to the ducks at the pond. Or, what was that old story you heard back in school… Prometheus, that Greek god. The one who had his liver pecked out day after day.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s how it felt.

“Seems your favourite family came over too,” Beau said when he parked the car in front of your house beside the Days’ van. Well, RJ’s van.

“Fantastic,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes.

You didn’t wait for them as you stormed out, slamming the door so hard it shook the truck. No waiting as you stomped up the porch steps, standing outside with your hand on the door handle and taking the moment to just breathe. Daddy couldn’t see you losing it, because what could you possibly say to explain it?

Hey daddy, sorry I’m upset, I’m just tired of seeing the girl I love be with a man that can help her achieve her dreams. Yeah, because that would go over so well.

The moment your breathing had evened out enough to be considered normal, you entered the house to hear excessive talking and laughter. Typical for your household, and it actually brought a smile to your lips. You could hear your parents, and the Days, and the dogs were yappin’ and it was a wonderful atmosphere.

But when you stepped through the kitchen doorway and saw Lorraine sitting on RJ's lap, that sinking feeling settled in your stomach again. He's her boyfriend, you tried to reason, Huck has to watch Beau do the same thing. But that didn't ease the ache from every breath.

"Evenin', y'all," Huck said when he and Beau creeped up behind you. He patted your shoulder lightly before squeezing by you to make his rounds.

"How was setup?" Your daddy asked when Beau shook his hand.

"Smooth as ever," Beau answered with a grin that made your daddy smile.

It made you sick.

"Momma, can I help?" You asked as you walked over to where she was cooking. You didn't want to listen to everyone's conversations.

It was impossible to stop yourself from cocking your head to listen whenever Lorraine spoke. You wished she would speak louder; she was always far too quiet even when she was the most comfortable. A soft voice for a soft girl, your momma had said one day before Lorraine went off to college.

She still tried to hide her face, but not quite so much in your house. Maybe it was the atmosphere everyone created, or just the fact everyone knew it to be a “house of God himself,” thanks to your daddy. You didn’t know, all you knew was you preferred to be in either yours or her house; at least she let you see all of her that way.

Jimmy, Liz, and Roy came in from the back door while you were helping your momma set the food on the table. Jimmy and Liz were all over each other, which was no surprise, and he got a nice smack to the head with momma’s dish towel. Roy on the other hand looked utterly exhausted. Something which was also no surprise.

When your momma announced dinner was ready, everyone took their seats at the large table in the dining room. Huck and Beau sat together, of course, and so did all the other couples. Leaving you to sit with Roy, who gave you a small, reserved smile with a far away look in his eyes.

“Hey, bubba,” you said quietly while everyone else was still talking far too loud.

“Alright y’all,” your daddy said in his booming preacher’s voice, “join hands so we can pray.”

You all did exactly that. Beau gently grasped your left hand while Roy held your right in a vice grip. As your daddy prayed, you could feel the little bones in your hand shift when Roy gripped you tighter, and you knew it would be bruised tomorrow morning. But it seemed to help even his breathing, so you kept your mouth shut until daddy was done.

“Amen,” your daddy said, and everyone mumbled their own amens to follow suit.

Everyone started serving themselves, conversations flowing steadily and easily over the sound of utensils against plates. The dogs were smart, they stayed under the table in between yours and Roy’s legs. They knew you two were most likely to feed them, and what do you know, you always did. You tried to be sneaky about it, hushing them up when they smacked too loud.

Roy didn’t care, he just shamelessly gave them whatever he didn’t want.

“How’s the film business goin’, RJ?” Your daddy asked. You nearly choked on your food at the question.

“Good,” RJ answered with a slow nod as he finished chewing. “I’m hopin’ to have another one finished in a few weeks.”

“Am I ever gonna get to see one of them films?” Your daddy asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said quickly. Far too quickly. Everyone turned to look at you with a mix of emotions. “It just- it ain’t your style,” you tried to explain; a bead of sweat dripped down the back of your neck. “Not a Western, you know?”

“Hmm,” your daddy hummed. “You’re right then, I’ll pass.”

Everyone in the younger group sighed in relief, more than happy that your daddy had agreed with you. Conversation flowed again, going from the rodeo to Lorraine’s college to Jimmy’s seminary. Never to you or Roy, who everyone had determined over the last few weeks was going to stay put. You were no longer going to seminary because someone had to lead the church, and Roy was staying because he had lost his mind.

A typical situation.

“All I know is y’all better be careful out there,” your daddy said. He always seemed to be the voice that brought you out of your own thoughts. It probably meant something deeper that you didn’t want to think too hard about. “The world is turnin’ into a dangerous place.”

“It’s always been dangerous, Pap,” Jimmy chuckled. “We just got more TV and radio to tell us about it.”

“I’m serious, Jim,” your daddy said. “I don’t want none of y’all to get mixed up with those crowds out there.”

“And what crowds would that be, daddy?” You asked. All of you had half-hidden smiles because he usually had something ridiculous to say that you would all agree to and then laugh about later.

“Those damn homosexuals, for one,” he said with a grimace. Everyone around the table froze.

Your eyes stayed glued to the fork you had just stabbed into a potato. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you felt everyone staring, looking around at each other in uncomfortable silence. With your pulse rushing in your ears and your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you swore everyone else could hear it too.

“Gonna be infectin’ us with their disease if we don’t watch out,” he continued as if he didn’t care how everyone had stopped moving. “Y’all better stay away.”

“They’re just people, Pap,” Jimmy said in a small voice. A blackness started to encroach on your vision.

“Dangerous, Godless people,” your daddy said. “Which is why y’all have to stick together.”

“They’re still kids Robert-”

“-Stay right by God,” he interrupted your momma. "All of y'all are in good, Godly relationships,” you could feel him looking at you but you still couldn’t look up. It felt like the room was closing in on you. "Stay that way."

“We’ll be careful,” RJ said, his voice putting a lump in your throat that you couldn’t swallow.

“Keep him around, Lorraine,” your daddy said. “He’ll take care of you-”

-you slammed your hands on the table and stood up. The ringing in your ears was drowning everything out and that blackness was covering more and more ground. You could feel each individual grain of the wooden table underneath your fingertips.

He’ll take care of you.

“I ain’t feelin’ too good,” you said around the invisible ball of cotton in your mouth. “May I be excused?”

“Sure, honey-”

-you didn’t wait for your momma to finish talking before you left the kitchen through the back door, your feet taking you straight to the barn. He’ll take care of you. Why did he have to say that? Why did he have to say that in front of you? Wasn’t it enough that you had to break bread with RJ without getting it thrown in your face?

He'll take care of you.

You bit back the scream threatening to claw up your throat until you tasted blood. It filled your mouth until you swore you would choke on it. Part of you hoped you would; give you an excuse to end the mental anguish that constantly flooded your thoughts.

He’ll take care of you.

Like hell he would. Like hell. He couldn’t even take care of himself, how could anyone even possibly think he could take care of Lorraine? All he was was a wannabe filmmaker that wouldn’t even dare show y’all his films. So how on god’s green earth would he take care of Lorraine? Your Lorraine?

The dull thud of your boots on the dirt transitioned to the whispered slap of concrete when you walked through the barn doors and everything stopped. Stepping into the barn was like stepping into another world; all the noise and troubles from the outside ceased to exist, even if just for a few moments.

It was replaced by the smell of gravel, dirt, and oil. Occasionally sawdust depending on the time of year. The separation was in the temperature drop, thanks to the partial concrete floor and huge space. There was something hypnotising about the sound of the metal walls creaking in the wind outside, yet everything was painfully still inside.

Something brushed up against your jean-clad leg and you nearly jumped from the intrusion to your thoughts. But then you took notice of the black and white tail curling around your calf and your heart rate started to lower again.

“Hey, Miss Kitty,” you mumbled as you bent down and held your hand out to the grumpy old barn cat. “You get locked in?”

She didn’t even dignify your question with a meow before walking off, her tail slinking away from your leg slowly until she was heading out the barn door. Not even a glance back to say goodbye. The complete nerve of that cat.

“I hope you done get ‘et by a coyote,” you called after her as she continued to sashay away. “Then we can finally quit pickin’ up strays.”

“Be nice to her,” Lorraine said softly, though the barn amplified it. “After all, we picked you up.”

“No, you picked RJ up,” you shot back while you straightened back up. “He just proves my point.”

“It isn’t his fault,” she said just as softly as she stepped closer to you. You took a single step back.

“No it ain’t,” you said. Stay right by God. “Clearly it’s God's.”

“Don’t go down that rabbit hole,” Lorraine warned, stepping forward again and placing a hand on your cheek before you could run away.

Her hand was soft, far too soft to be touching you. Why would she be so gentle with you when you were nothing but hidden anger and blasphemous words? And yet you wouldn’t push her away to spare her from your own sins. You wanted to pull her closer, feel her skin under your touch, have her name fall from your lips like a prayer.

“Please stay,” you whispered when you finally dared to meet her eyes.

The short nails on her fingers scratched lightly against your cheek. It was a little too light, hypnotising in the wrong way. There was nothing grounding about it, you felt like you were in a daze. You needed something more, something to drag you back down to earth where you belonged.

“Please,” you whispered again in a broken voice.

“I can’t,” Lorraine whispered back before leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Everyone is waiting.”

And that right there? That killed you.

—---

At the rate you were going, you might as well start getting paid to be the rodeo clown.

You didn’t know which one of those pea-pickin bastards had done the deed, but someone had invited Lorraine and RJ to the rodeo for the weekend. Part of you highly suspected your mother, but the bashful look on Huck’s face almost made you think it was him. Regardless of who it was, you hadn’t been prepared to deal with the both of them over the weekend.

Was getting rejected in your own barn not punishment enough? Now you had to get publicly humiliated too? Not that anyone knew of your little secret, but it still rubbed salt in the wound. At least you could be down near the corral while RJ and Lorraine were in the stands behind the safety railing. Kept them far enough away from you to relax.

And maybe gave you the perfect position to look at Lorraine, but that was just an added bonus to the situation. It was no less than you deserved for having to put up with all of them for the weekend. You could be forgiven for wanting something pretty to look at while you were having your heart ripped out.

“He looks mighty handsome today, don’t he?” Huck asked, his eyes glued to where Beau was standing around with some of the other volunteers.

“No he don’t,” you said without even looking. “Looks like he needs his ass whooped.”

“You ain’t even lookin’,” he huffed.

You turned your head to finally look where Beau was standing and, you hated to admit, he did look mighty handsome in his new jeans and shirt.

“I looked,” you said, doing your best not to smile. “Still needs his ass whooped.”

"You're so grumpy,” Huck grumbled. You turned your head back to where Lorraine was sitting and felt an icy grip enclose around your heart. "You need to get laid."

“Ain’t that the truth,” you whispered.

The rodeo continued on.

You could tell Huck was getting anxious when the team roping started. Unlike Beau, he actually used the sport in the real world on his neighbour’s ranch. A skill that Beau considered recreational, yet to Huck it was necessary. It made for a fun dynamic, you wouldn’t deny it, especially when they got into arguments about the rules and regulations. Always did make for an exciting night.

But now you could tell he just missed it. He was never one to enjoy sitting on the sidelines, even when it wasn’t his own sport. It was sweet, truly it was, but if he didn’t quit bouncing his leg on the railing and forcing you to suffer with him, you were going to throw him to the bulls. And not the sexy ones.

“I’m beggin’ you to stay still,” you groaned. You reached your hand out and pressed down on his shoulder to ground him into the dirt. “You’re worse than Jim on Christmas.”

“I ain’t doin’ nothin’,” Huck said even as you could practically feel his body vibrating from the effort to stay still. “But you are awful pretty when you beg.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” you said as you did your best not to laugh at the ridiculous smile on his face.

"You askin' Lorraine to the hoedown tonight?" Huck asked once the roping was done. Now that you both had a bit of time to look away, it was the perfect time to keep talking.

"Course not," you said with a scrunch of your nose. "She's with RJ."

"Not tonight," he said with a shake of his head and a sniffle; it must have been from the dust. "He's leavin' now."

You turned when Huck gestured his head and saw he was right; RJ was in the process of packing his stuff up. He never had been one for rodeo life. Hell, he didn't even enjoy the events to begin with. All he ever wanted was to try and make a good film out of it and that just wasn't easy enough for him. It'd be a shame if someone finally told him you had to know the sport to film it well.

A damn shame, that was for sure.

"Hurry up before she leaves too," Huck said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You opened your mouth to argue, but he pushed you forward off the railing. The dirt flew into a small cloud around your boots when you landed, and you sent him a quick glare before jogging over to where Lorraine and RJ were standing up. She seemed much more eager to stay, but you knew she wouldn't if she felt she was alone. That damn shotgun had done a number to her, physically and mentally.

"Leavin' already?" You asked as you quickly hopped up on the railing to be face-to-face with the lovely couple.

"Tryin' to," RJ said with a polite smile that said mind your business. "But we'll be back tomorrow."

"There's a hoedown tonight," you said before he could drag Lorraine away. "Me and the boys were wantin' Lorraine to join us." She turned to look at you with the slightest sparkle in her eye. "Like old times."

"Alright," RJ said without hesitation. It was evident he just wanted to get out of the stadium. Rodeos really weren't his cup of tea. "Need a ride home?"

"She can stay with me," you said before Lorraine could even open her mouth. "Also like old times."

Even though you weren't looking at her, you could feel Lorraine's eyes boring holes into the side of your head. She wasn't stupid; she knew exactly what you were doing. "Old times" just meant Huck and Beau ran off while you and Lorraine had your own fun. But there was the catch; only y'all knew what "old times" meant. Everyone else just thought you were acting like kids all over again.

Oh how sweet.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow, Raine," RJ said, leaning over to give her one more kiss. You quickly wiped the instinctive snarl off your face when he pulled away. "Y'all have fun."

"We will," you and Lorraine said at the same time.

You both watched and waited until he was out of sight before you pulled her over the railing. She yelped out in surprise before her feet hit the dirt and you could take her hand, leading her to where Huck was still waiting. He gave her his best smile and pulled her into a hug when you both got close enough.

"So we've successfully kidnapped you for the night?" Huck asked.

"Seems so," Lorraine said with a raised brow. "Would've been nice to have a warnin’ first."

"Keep your watchdog away for more than two seconds and I'll warn you next time," you said.

"He's not a watchdog," Lorraine said as you both climbed up on the railing, her in between you and Huck.

"Oh, my apologies," you said softly, "I meant your parasite."

"Oh hush up,” she mumbled as she slapped both you and Huck, who weren’t even trying to stifle your laughter. “You need to be nicer to him.”

“Actually, the Lord told me personally that I can be mean,” you said after you managed to calm your laughter down. “I ain’t one to disobey the Big Man.”

“You are a blasphemer that’s goin’ to hell,” Lorraine retorted. But the smile on her face was enough to show her intentions.

“You two are disgustin’,” Huck grumbled; he also had a smile. “Just go make out in a stall already and spare me the tension.”

“Oh hush up,” you and Lorraine said in unison.

“As if you and Beau aren’t makin’ kissy faces at each other all the time,” Lorraine continued.

“You have no idea,” you said, loving the light in her eyes when she looked at you. “You should see ‘em when we go out to eat, you’d think I was nothin’ more than last week’s sermon.”

“Laugh it up,” Huck said with a nod as he looked out at the corral. You hadn’t paid attention to the event and noticed it was finally coming to an end. About time, you thought with a smile. “Once you two get some alone time then we’ll talk.”

“We can handle ourselves much better than you two,” you said quickly, the timer going off immediately after and making you jump. Lorraine’s hand on your arm helped you settle rather quickly.

Huck opened his mouth to say something else but was soon distracted by something in the corral. You and Lorraine shared a smile when you noticed Beau was on his way over. Tease as much as you did, they were rather adorable. It was a genuine love and admiration, one that you didn’t even see in your own parents, one that you wished you could have a little more easily.

“Hey, Rainey,” Beau said as he jumped onto the fence and planted a sloppy kiss on Lorraine’s cheek. “Nice to see you unshackled for once.”

“Is this all y’all ever talk about?” Lorraine asked.

All three of you looked at each other before giving a few nods. “Yeah.”

“I changed my mind,” she said with a nod to herself, “you’re all goin’ to hell.”

“You love us,” Beau said with a grin and another kiss to her forehead. She tried to push him away halfheartedly before leaning into his touch. “What were y’all talkin’ about before I came over?”

“These fine ladies think they can keep their hands to themselves better than we can,” Huck said with a raised brow.

“That so?” Beau asked.

“God’s truth,” you said with as much attitude as you could muster. Around you, the rodeo fell into controlled chaos as everyone started setting up for tomorrow’s events.

“Then how about we have ourselves a little wager,” Beau said as he locked eyes with you.

“Lay it on me, stud,” you shot back.

“If you beautiful ladies give in first, you,” he pointed at you, “have to go watch Lorraine film her next film.”

“Wait, hang on-”

“-and if you lose?” Lorraine asked, interrupting you quickly. The competitiveness was building behind her eyes, you could see it.

“We’ll go with Lorraine,” Beau said, “and we’ll even film a scene.”

“Hold up, baby-”

“-you’re on,” Lorraine interrupted Huck. She reached her hand out to shake Beau’s. “Y’all are gonna look so pretty on camera.”

“I don’t like this game anymore,” you said, looking at each of them hoping to see mercy in someone’s eyes.

“Me either,” Huck whispered.

You both looked at each other and sighed softly. What had the two of you done to fall for such competitive people? And how come Lorraine was the only one in this situation who had nothing to lose? You were starting to get the sneaking suspicion that they all just wanted to watch you squirm.

It was going to be a very long night.

—---

“Hey Huck?” You said when you brought the next round of beers over to the small table the four of you had commandeered.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m in love,” you said with a sigh as you both looked out at the dancefloor where Lorraine and Beau were two-stepping like it was their last night on earth.

“You and me both,” he said with his own dreamy sigh.

The music from the local band was loud, almost painfully so, but you didn’t entirely care. Not when you were warm from the alcohol and laughter echoing through the barn. RJ had once called the run-down bar a death trap, and you couldn’t disagree with him. The wooden roof and walls had holes that no one cared to fix up and dust constantly fell from the rafters. But it was home to most of you, a place where everyone could get away and have some fun on a Saturday night.

Hell, it was where you had first kissed Lorraine. Your eyes trailed up to look at the dilapidated loft. If you focused, you could see the exact spot where Lorraine had made the move, pushing you against the termite-eaten wall and kissed you as if she wouldn’t get another chance. Lucky for you both, you got plenty more chances.

Laughter from a very specific person brought you out of your memories, and you looked back at the dancefloor to see Beau twirling Lorraine around. Her face was lit up with a big, toothy, open mouthed smile that you couldn’t recall seeing since the accident. For once, she looked like she didn’t care when she twirled and exposed her scars. Like she was just that normal, carefree girl you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“I think I wanna marry him,” Huck said softly.

“You and me both,” you repeated what he said earlier as you decided to chug the rest of your beer.

Don’t let anyone hear, your inner voice reminded you. Lest you get lynched. Right. Right, that was entirely a possibility. You looked around quickly, fully aware that no one would have heard Huck but still feeling that paranoia wash over you. Suddenly the beer and the atmosphere didn’t feel so homey.

“You look like someone spit in your cup,” Beau said, the sudden sound of his voice making you jump. “You alright?”

“Peachy,” you said with a smile, quickly finding Lorraine finding her seat beside you. “Just thinkin’, is all.”

“‘Bout what?” Lorraine asked as she grabbed the beer that was probably starting to turn warm. The snarl of her lips after that first sip confirmed it.

“How you better finish that beer whether it’s warm or not,” you said with a raised brow. “Paid good money for it.”

“You mean you didn’t flash a little smile and get ‘em for free?” Beau asked as he too took a sip of his now warm beer. He at least managed to play it off a little better than Lorraine.

“Most certainly not,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’ve gotta preach to most of these people in the mornin’, can’t have ‘em givin’ me free beer.”

“Wow,” Lorraine said with a quiet exhale as she leaned forward on the table, resting her chin in her hand. “Your life must be so tough.”

“It is,” you played along. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

“That in the Bible?” Huck asked.

“Not quite,” you said. “You’d know that if you went to church like you were s’posed to.”

“I fear I’d catch fire the second I stepped foot in that chapel,” he said with a laugh.

You’ll all catch fire.

Right.

You all continued talking, no longer interested in dancing as the music continued to drown out your conversations. Lorraine managed to scoot her stool a bit closer until her thigh was pressed against yours, and you very nearly rested your hand on her inner thigh. A cleared throat and a look from Huck was all it took to remind you of where you were, and you quickly placed your hand back in your own lap.

By the time you all started to get tired, most of the people had already gone home. The band was packing up and the makeshift bartender was officially out of alcohol. No doubt everyone would be ready to resume the hoedown tomorrow night after the rodeo finals, but for the night, everyone was done. The four of you followed suit, sending your goodnights to the few remaining stragglers as you all piled into Huck’s truck.

“Which home?” He asked; the most sober of you all, bless his little heart.

“We could all go back to mine,” you said as you leaned forward between the two front seats. “We’ve got the two lofts in the barn.”

“That work with y’all?” Huck asked, looking at Beau and Lorraine. They both nodded their agreement. “Then buckle up.”

You sat back in your seat and immediately felt Lorraine lay her head on your shoulder. If the amount of drinks she had gone through were any indication, she was properly buzzed. The warmth of her hand resting on your thigh, scratching lightly, was another perfect indication.

“Hands to yourself,” Beau said as you met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’d hate for you to lose the bet.”

“You still goin’ on about that?” Huck asked.

“You said we couldn’t fuck,” Lorraine said with a sleepy voice, “not that we couldn’t touch.”

“Language,” you scolded her lightly. She didn’t even seem fazed in the slightest.

“I’m watchin’ you,” Beau said even as he closed his eyes. “Bunch ‘a cheaters.”

“Did I tell you how unfair this bet is?” You asked before lifting your hand to scratch at Lorraine’s scalp. She practically purred under your touch.

“It’s plenty fair,” Beau said without looking back.

“All three of y’all can get indecent whenever you want,” you said, “I can’t.”

“We can fix that,” Lorraine mumbled.

“Hush and go to sleep,” you whispered before pressing a quick kiss to her head and sitting back up. “It ain’t fair.”

“She’s got a point, baby,” Huck said with a small shake of his head. “We got her at a disadvantage.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you let your girl agree to the bet,” Beau said anyway. “You can always admit defeat.”

“Go to hell, Beauregard,” you mumbled, to which both men up front laughed like hyenas.

Lorraine was thoroughly asleep by the time you all pulled up to the barn. Thankfully it was far enough away from the house that your arrival wouldn’t wake anyone up. The only potential issue would be if Roy was sleeping in the barn, but he had started hiding away in the shed a few hundred yards away, so you weren’t too worried. If anything, you would just let the boys sleep in the barn while you took Lorraine inside to your room.

“Come on, baby,” you whispered into Lorraine’s ear accompanied by a slight shake of her shoulders.

She grumbled once, not even saying any words, but slowly sat up. Her eyes were barely open and her hair was mused just enough to make her look like a little kid again. It reminded you of all your sleepovers, all those nights before you had realised your feelings for her. The good ole days.

You helped ease her out of the back of the truck. Without any hesitation, you turned slightly and squatted down until she wrapped her arms around your neck and you stood back up. Even though she was nearly asleep again, you couldn’t help but think of how light she was on your back. Sometimes you forgot just how small she was, how fragile she could be.

“You two on the right?” Huck asked as he guided his own partner around; it seemed Beau had drunk a bit too much too.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “y’all’s stuff should still be up on the left.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “Y’all get some sleep.”

“Night Huck,” you said with a smile before making the way up to the loft that you had claimed as yours as soon as it had been built.

It was a nice little spot, you wouldn’t try to hide it. There weren’t any real walls, but you had hung some curtains around the perimeter to create a sense of privacy. Tucked into the far corner was a single bed, something more reminisce of an army cot than anything else, with only an excess of blankets and a pillow on top. A few records scattered around, an old record player, and your grandpappy’s old guitar were the only remaining decorations.

You were gentle when you placed Lorraine on the cot, being careful as she slid off and laid on her side. She looked peaceful, with her hair no longer hiding her face. When would she believe you when you told her she was the most beautiful girl in the world? Would she ever believe you? If not then you needed to make sure RJ told her, because she deserved to feel loved again.

“Come here,” Lorraine said in a sleepy voice, pulling you out of your own head. Her arms were lifted as she made grabby hands at you, and how could you possibly say no to that?

With practiced ease, you toed your boots off and left them at the foot of the bed before climbing in. You were still in jeans and your button up but that was alright. There was no way you were going to be able to get Lorraine into pyjamas, so you would sleep in your clothes as well in solidarity.

“I’ve missed you,” she said softly, immediately pulling you close until she could press her lips to your neck.

“I missed you too,” you said as you tilted your head back to give her a little more access.

“A lot,” she continued. With a bit of shuffling she finally settled again, and you felt the warmth of her hand sliding under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“Raine, baby,” you said when her hand continued to move up to play with the strap of your bra, “I ain’t losin’ this bet.”

“Sure you are,” she said.

“I don’t care what you film,” you started even as she pushed you onto your back and rolled on top of you, “but I’m not too keen on watchin’.”

“How will they know?” Her lips started trailing up your neck, leaving an inferno behind with each kiss. “They won’t be comin’ with us.”

“Raine.”

But you couldn’t really argue when her hand finally slipped under your bra, just the mere feel of her skin on your breast enough to have you exhaling harshly. Paired with the warmth of her lips on your jaw? Clearly it had been far too long because you were almost ready to come undone right then and there.

“Lose the bet,” she whispered into your ear. You let out a shaky exhale when her thumb brushed lightly against your nipple. “For me?”

Well now, how could you say no to that? Without any ounce of care, you grabbed Lorraine’s face and pulled her to your lips. She tasted of cheap beer and tequila and you didn’t care. Her lips were soft and you could feel her breath tickling your face and you just wanted more of her.

In the privacy of the loft you had no shame in the both of you stripping. She was still buzzed and was fumbling around like a horny teenager, but you supposed you were too in the excitement. You weren’t even helping each other, you were too eager to rid yourselves of the confines of clothing. At one point Lorraine nearly fell off the bed in an attempt to get her pants off, and you both had to sit and recover from the laughter you couldn’t be bothered to contain.

She was still giggling by the time she crawled back on top of you, her skin blazing hot against your own. God, you couldn’t remember the last time you had not only had the time, but the privacy to see all of her again. She sat straddling you and even though you hadn’t done anything yet, you could feel her arousal coating your stomach.

Her hands fell right below your breasts, grabbing you by the ribs to steady herself. It was clear that she was still intoxicated enough to be a little clumsy, but very much sober enough to know what she was doing. Although you certainly weren’t going to take the initiative, more than happy to let her take the lead with whatever she was comfortable with.

You rested your hands on her hips and looked at her while her eyes were closed. The summer had done her skin well, leaving her a good deal darker than she had been only a few months ago. Even the scars across her neck and face were a bit darker, not quite so startling in contrast to the rest of her. Even her freckles had become more apparent, and you wished you had a night to just count each and every one of them.

“You’re starin’,” Lorraine said above you, her eyes finally open as she looked down at you. “Why?”

“I just think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life,” you whispered.

Even in the dark you could see the slight flush on her cheeks. She let her head fall until her hair covered her face. You sat up quickly, keeping your hands on her hips so she wouldn’t fall. Her legs wrapped around your waist as you let her readjust and you could feel her breath on your face once again.

“If you really thought that,” she started as she let her hands trail up the sides of your breasts and over your chest until they rested on either side of your neck, “then you would lose this bet for me.”

“You just wanna watch me squirm,” you said. She leaned closer until her chest was pressed lightly against yours.

“Yes I do,” she mumbled against your lips before kissing you once again.

Her grip on your neck tightened as she tried to pull you closer. You gasped when she nipped your bottom lip, sighing quickly after when you felt her tongue sooth it immediately after. God, what she could do to you with only the simplest of touches. The slightest scratch of her nails on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

You gave up on letting her take control the moment you felt her attempt to grind on you. There hadn’t been near enough teasing, but you could already feel how wet she was without even touching her. Not that you were complaining of course, you wanted nothing more than to show her how much you had missed her, how beautiful you really thought she was.

One of your thumbs rubbed circles on her hip while the other hand ran across her stomach and stopped on her pubic bone. She tried to grind again, whining into your mouth when she was met with nothing but air. Your thumb rubbing across her skin, almost touching her clit but not quite.

“Baby,” she whined.

“You gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered against her lips. “Can you do that for me?”

She nodded quickly, her hips moving just enough to catch your attention.

“I’ll stop if you’re too loud,” you continued even as you let your thumb fall a little lower. “Understand?”

“Yes,” she said.

That time when she moved her hips she was met with your thumb, and her breathy little moan sounded beautiful as her head fell to your shoulder. Oh she was so sensitive, and you hadn’t even properly touched her yet. Blame it on the alcohol, or RJ’s lack of ability, or both, but you wouldn’t complain. A needy Lorraine was a fun Lorraine.

“Touch me already,” Lorraine whined.

“So impatient,” you said as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to that space right below her ear. The one that always had her squirming whether it was intentional or not.

“You can love me later,” she continued. “Just fuck me.”

“That what you really want?” You asked, but she was already nodding her head against your shoulder before you finished the question. “Whatever you want, princess.”

Lorraine was so wet you didn’t even have to worry as you slid two fingers into her effortlessly. She bit your shoulder to keep herself quiet like the good girl she was. It took everything in you not to moan at how tight she was around you. No matter how many times you had her, it always caught you off guard in the best of ways.

“I ain’t losin’ for nothin’, sweetheart,” you said into Lorraine’s ear. “I wanna watch you make it up to me.”

“You’re an asshole,” she mumbled, yet it didn’t stop her from riding your fingers nice and slow. “That’s it, baby.”

She growled in frustration before sitting up again, placing her hands on your shoulders to use as leverage. You let her work herself up, refusing to move even a muscle to help her. If you were going to lose the bet, you were going to milk everything you could out of her as payback.

The rise and fall of her chest as she crawled to the edge was hypnotising. You knew she couldn’t get there quickly, let alone on her own, but you wanted to enjoy the view. The way she fucked herself on your fingers and let her mouth fall open when she angled her hips just right.

But when Lorraine’s head fell forward to rest against yours, you took mercy. Even at the extremely awkward angle that would leave your wrist sore in the morning, you thrust your fingers up to meet her, smiling to yourself at the guttural moan that left her mouth. Your free hand left her hip and moved around so you could rub her clit, her noises rising in pitch at the added sensation.

“Baby,” she exhaled. It almost sounded whiney, which meant she was close. She was oh so close.

“Let go, Rainey,” you said.

Even with her face so close to yours, you could still see the look on her face when she came. The silent scream, the way her eyes squeezed shut. It was a beautiful look that you didn’t think you would ever get tired of. Her nails dug into your shoulders and you could feel the intoxicating sting as they broke skin; you would need to be careful with your shirts for the next few days.

Her hips continued to stutter against your hands, erratic movements that you would have teased her for if you hadn’t been so entranced by her very being. You waited until her hips stilled before removing your fingers, making sure to be slow and gentle so as not to startle her. But then you pulled her closer again, feeling her arms wrap around your neck as you held her in your lap.

“There’s my good girl,” you whispered into her ear before kissing her temple. “You did so good.”

“I-”

-You both stopped talking quickly when you heard something. Something that sounded disgustingly familiar. Lorraine sat up in your lap and cocked her head to the side, listening intently. Maybe you had imagined it, surely it hadn’t been real. Right? There was no way.

Then you heard it again.

“Oh my god,” Lorraine groaned; you saw her smile before her head hit your shoulder again.

“Should I say something?” You asked. She opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted yet again.

“Don’t embarrass me,” she said.

“Never,” you whispered and kissed her head before shifting around. You placed your hands over both of her ears. “The Lord’s watchin’ y’all!”

“Fuck off, hypocrit,” Huck called back. His voice echoed off the walls of the barn. “Y’all ain’t so quiet either.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you.” Lorraine’s body shook above you with silent laughter. “I’m tryin’ to sleep like the Godly woman I am.”

“Shut the hell up,” Beau finally cut in, “you’re killin’ the mood.”

“Good night, heathens!” You called back. “Don’t wake the Devil.”

You and Lorraine both stifled your laughter as you laid back down in the cot. It was difficult to keep yourselves quiet. She shushed you and listened, but neither one of you could hear anything else.

“Either they’re more quiet, or you ruined their night,” Lorraine whispered.

“Hope I ruined it,” you grumbled. “If I have to lose, so do they.”

“And you call me competitive,” she said in her sleepy voice.

“You are,” you said with another kiss to her head. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”

“You just love me.” Her voice got softer with each word.

“Yeah I do,” you said just as softly.

She didn’t say another word, falling asleep quickly thanks to the alcohol and orgasm. Her arm stayed draped around your bare waist as you held her closer, feeling her skin sticking to yours with the mix of sweat. Your father’s voice condemned you in your head, doing its best to ruin the feeling of peace and security you felt with Lorraine in your arms.

But in that moment, you simply closed your eyes and held her tighter. You were going to enjoy every moment with her until the day you died. Heaven could keep its angels; you would keep yours.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine day #lorraine day smut #jenna ortega x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months

Text

Nightlife 3

Warnings: dark elements to come. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Raquel is hung over worse than ever. She can barely get off the couch as you hover anxiously. Watching her makes you wonder why people drink, it doesn’t seem very fun.

“Ugh, thanks,” she groans as you bring her a cup of coffee, “jeez, I can’t believe I don’t even remember last night.”

“Mm, yeah,” you put the cup on the small crate that acts as a table, “I’m glad you called me.”

She yawns before taking a long gulp of coffee. “I owe you! For getting me back here. I can’t believe you did that all alone.”

You nod and give a close-lipped smile. You don’t mention that it’s not the first time. That you’ve heard this all before. You like Raquel, she’s one of the only friends you’ve made at college, but you don’t like her habits. At least she didn’t bring anyone with her this time. You don’t mention that you did. Technically.

“I should study,” you excuse yourself, “got an early lecture tomorrow.”

“Hon, can you get me some advil first?” She touches her forehead dramatically and pouts, “please.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You retrieve the bottle of ibuprofen and leave it beside her coffee cup. She’s well enough to scroll through her insta and giggle to herself. You don’t know how she can’t be mortified. She’s forgotten a whole night and anything could’ve happened.

It almost did and it’s all your fault. You retreat to your room as the thought tugs at your nerves. That man was nice but you’re lucky he was. It was only after he left that you remembered the safety talk you got your first day on campus. The classic stranger danger narrative.

You are so stupid! You let him come back here and didn’t even realise until after the discrepancy. You still can’t figure how he knew your address and doubt creeps up as you wonder if maybe you told him amid the chaos of Raquel’s black out.

You get your books out and perch up by your pillows. You don’t have much reading to do but you need the distraction. Ever since your first classes, you’ve felt behind. No matter how much you cram, you just feel like you’re missing something. The same could be said of most situations.

Your phone vibrates on your night table. You don’t check it right away as you reread the same paragraph. You hate psychology. Too bad it’s your whole major. You don’t know if you can handle it. Even if your father thinks it’s your best option.

Your phone goes off again, this time rattling consistently. Who would be calling? You don’t get phone calls, not even from home.

You stare at the private caller flashing on the screen before you find the courage to answer. You choke out a confused ‘hello’, readying yourself to politely decline whatever they’re selling.

“Hey, little darling, how are you doin’? Get lots of sleep?” The drawl seeps from the speaker like molasses. It’s him.

“Lee?”

“It’s me, sweetheart,” he confirms, “I was just callin’ to see if you’re free this afternoon. I got the night off and… I’m gonna be true, I can’t stop thinking about ya.”

“Oh,” your eyes round as you pick at the corner of a textbook, “I’m just studying…”

“Studying? Well, I could bring the ice cream to you, how ‘bout that?”

“Erm, no,” you peek over at the door. You don’t know if Raquel would be okay with that, not in her state. “I… does it have to be today?”

No. Why can’t you just say no? Not now is always easier.

“I s’pose not,” his disappointment is transparent, “I just figured… I don’t know when you got classes and I work most nights…”

You cup your cheek as it scalds. Suddenly you feel bad. For being suspicious of him. For thinking the worst. He doesn’t sound very harmful and he got Raquel back safe. You know you would’ve been lost in that club.

Meet in a public place. That’s what the campus police said.

“Okay, um, I can meet you.”

“Nah, I’ll come pick you up,” he offers, his tone easing.

“I’ll meet you,” you insist, voice wobbling, “it’s fine.”

“Alright,” he relents, “you ever been to that play on Harding?”

💮

You tell Raquel you’re going to the library. In an effort to shield your lie, you bring your bookbag. You might just swing by after ice cream. It might help you actually digest the words that seem to bounce back off your brain.

You wear a pair of pale blue chambray pants with a striped yellow top. It’s nothing special but neither is this. You’re just paying back a favour.

You catch the bus down to Woodrow, a block from Harding and walk the rest of the way. The ice cream shop is on the corner marked by a painted wooden sign. Est. 1898. You wonder how they kept the ice cream cold then, but you’re no historian.

You hesitate just before you come into view of the windows. It’s a public place but he’s still a stranger. Even if you know his name, you don’t really know him.

“There ya are,” Lee’s voice carries across the street as he crosses, “good timin’.”

“Oh, hi,” you clasp tight the strap of your bag, “I…”

“Was just finding a spot,” he explains as he steps onto the curb.

He’s taller than you remember. You think. Your memory is skewed with flashing lights and adrenaline. The gray woven into his brown hair is more obvious as well and there’s a shadow of stubble along his jaw. His stomach bulges beneath his open leather jacket but you won’t begrudge him a few extra pounds.

“Yeah, uh,” you rub your neck, “I… took the bus.”

“I told ya, I would given ya a ride,” he chides.

“Sorry,” you avert your eyes guiltily. “I didn’t want to bother–”

“Ain’t no bother,” he strides to the door and pulls it open, “so, you got a flavour in mind, blossom?”

You don’t move right away. You have to unstick your feet from the pavement, reluctance making you stiff and shaky. It’s alright, there’s people around, he can’t do anything. Besides, he’s nice, isn’t he? You’re just having ice cream.

You precede him inside as the door jingles behind him. You go up to the counter and focus on the many flavours listed on hand-written cards beneath the glass. He comes up beside you, looming over you, his leather sleeve almost brushing yours.

“Hi, how can I help you today?” The young girl behind the counter chimes.

“Ladies first,” Lee insists.

You flick your eyes up and blink. You clear your throat, “can I, uh, try the black cherry, please?”

“Sure, how many scoops?”

“Just one. Erm, can I get a bowl?”

“Sure thing, and you sir?”

Lee orders the strawberry cheesecake flavour in a waffle bowl. You almost regret not getting anything fancier but you’ve always gone for simple things. You don’t like a fuss.

You swing your bag around as you get to the till but Lee is quick to offer a twenty to the cashier. “Put it away, blossom,” he orders, “it’s on me.”

He drops some change in the tip cup before tucking the rest away. He takes your order from the ledge and leads you to the small booth in the corner. You slide onto the teal cushion as he sets down your black cherry.

“I woulda guessed different,” he muses as he cracks his waffle bowl with his spoon, “black cherry. My daddy only ever got that.”

“Oh, uh, I like it,” you scrape away the ice cream with the plastic cutlery.

“Nothin’ wrong with it but a sweet girl like you, woulda guessed… strawberry? That’s classic. Or butterscotch. That’s my favourite.”

“Mhmm,” you don’t know what to say. That’s not unusual. Awkward silences are your only skill.

You scoop up a mouthful and shove the spoon through your lips. You take several bites as you wilt in the tension and you look up as he hums. He watches you intently, his eyes on your mouth as you drag it slowly between your lips.

He catches himself and sits back. He pushes his shoulders wide and gives a grin, spinning his spoon between his large fingers.

“So, you in school?” He asks, “whatcha takin’?”

You sniff and poke at the melting scoops, “psych.”

“Psychology. Wow, that’s something. You must be a smart girl, huh?”

“I… I try,” you shrug, “I don’t know. It’s a lot of work.”

“Sure is. I skipped all that. Did a stint in the marines some time back and when I got out, well, ain’t much out there for a man like me.”

You nod as you search for anything to say. You don’t like talking about yourself. Besides, he really doesn’t need to know that much.

“You like working down there? At the, um, club or whatever?”

“Not bad. Free drinks,” he chuckles and eases back against the seat, stretching his arm towards you as he drapes it over the back, “I get to help sweet things like yourself.”

You can’t help a bashful smile. You look down at your bowl and take another cautious bite of ice cream. You still feel out of place and you’re sure if someone saw you, they would think the same. You peek up at him, his gaze constant, and you can’t help but wonder how old he is. Surely too old for this to be anything but friendly.

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #the devil all the time #au #drabble #series #nightlife

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forgiveness-in-the-misery · 11 months

Text

Nathan’s obsession with guilt is interesting to me.

In Doomstar Nathan ignores Ishnifus’ request for them to escape and not look back, Nathan starts up the steps but comes back to stand and force himself to watch this kind man who sacrifices his life for theirs, he watches him be decapitated before allowing himself to run upstairs and onto the roof with the others. Nathan forced himself to do that.

Nathan’s book of crossed out names I kind of think may be a list of people he feels he has failed and people he fears he will fail. Magnus is top of the list, we see presumably Nathan have a flash image of Magnus screaming and bleeding, does Nathan blame himself for Magnus dying? Does he feel he should have done something despite it not being his fault. Magnus abused them when they were younger and stabbed Nathan when he tried to calm the situation before it escalated too far. Does Nathan regret hitting him? Regret not talking to him after despite it being justified?

I also think about the first time we see Nathan blame himself and pile guilt on himself for something and that was when Murderface almost died. By all technicality it was obviously Nathan’s fault, he chose to drive while blackout drunk. The thing is that is incredibly important is none of the others bring this up or blame Nathan for the accident. Murderface never fucking mentions it, he says he almost died but he never accuses Nathan or places blame on him. He could have easily guilted Nate into shit, but he never did.

Nathan is literally the only one to mention it through the entire episode, whenever Pickles complains Nathan defends that he nearly killed him so they have to be supportive of his religious journey. Nathan legit just follows Murderface the whole episode without a single fucking complaint unlike the others who complain the whole time and contemplate killing Murderface cause he’s being weird.

Nathan was fucking distressed in the hospital, like knowing he to an extent was the cause of his friend almost dying fucking terrified him to the point he’s shouting and crying. Man does not handle his loved ones being hurt or dying well.

Like I feel like for whatever reason Nathan has always lived his life wanting to blame himself for shit that he can’t always control or be responsible for and it’s why the prophecy scares him because so much of it is on him.

#metalocalypse

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starsofmilos · 1 year

Text

Survive (Adrian Chase x reader)

Synopsis: Adrian messed with the wrong people causing you both to flee. Now he’s struggling to keep you alive.

So I had this idea too for a bit. I love protective Adrian and I know a lot of other people do so..

Masterlist

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, fluff, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, cold weather, hypothermia, blood loss, violence, cursing

“Shit! Shit!” You called out pushing Adrian behind some dumpsters. Adrian panted reloading his gun shooting once more.

“We gotta get outta here.” He grunted out. You nodded a bit angrily.

“I don’t wanna say I told you so, but I told you so!” Adrian groaned shooting again.

“I know you said not too but-”

“Exactly! This was supposed to be easy! You let your feelings get in the way!”

“I didn’t mean too!” You grunted grabbing his hand to drag him away. Adrian followed behind shooting quickly to cover you both.

This had all started out as a simple mission. You were all supposed to spilt up and grab something. Chris and Emilia were grabbing a flash drive.

Adrian and you were set to grab blue prints. Which had worked out at first until you had to flirt with a guard to be let in.

Adrian grew jealous and shot said guard alerting everyone there of your presence. Now you were angry, Adrian was angry, and you both had to fight your way out.

“The woods are just out the door! We could hide out there until the team finds us!”

“Emilia and Chris aren’t having this much trouble!”

“I know this is my fault! So please let’s do this plan!”

“You do realize it’s winter right?! So you better hope we find them fast!” You grunted shooting someone away from Adrian.

“Okay my love. Let’s go!-” A gunshot cut you off. You immediately pushed Adrian down before it could hurt him.

Adrian looked in shock as you cried out gripping your thigh. He sat up shooting the two people who had shot before grabbing you.

“You okay? Oh shit that’s a dumb question. You are not okay...Shit shit!” You gripped his arm getting his attention.

“We need to get outta here. Calm down and let’s get out of here.” You stood up shakily limping a bit as Adrian nodded.

He lifted you up effortlessly running out the door. Panting he continued running trying to avoid the people he could hear calling out for you both.

Adrian ran as fast as he could not stopping till he was sure you both were a safe distance. You whimpered as he set you down.

“It’s okay it’s okay. We’re safe..I got us away we’re safe now..” You nodded as Adrian panted ripping his mask off to look at your leg.

You hummed a bit trying not to wince as Adrian grabbed your leg taking a look at it.

“Doesn’t seem that bad. Looks like a small wound..” You tried to reassure Adrian. He gave you a small pointed look.

“You’re bleeding really bad.” Adrian dug through his pocket pulling his glasses out. You grabbed his glove hand putting it on your leg.

“Put pressure to s-stop the b-bleeding.” You winced as he nodded. “Adrian it’s gonna be okay..Here..Use my belt and make a tourniquet.”

Adrian covered your mouth to cover your voice as he tightened the belt. “It’s gonna be okay Adrian..Okay..”

“This is all my fault. Shit shit.”

“It’s gonna be okay. Not your fault. We gotta get moving before they start heading this way.”

“You’re hurt really bad! I-I don’t k-know what to d-do!” You grabbed Adrian’s face shaking him a bit.

“Stop. Stop. We’re gonna go and find the team. It’s gonna be okay. I can walk. Can you help me up?” Adrian grunted helping you up.

When first assigned this mission, Adrian had been automatically assigned to work with you. You were a duo. One of the best duos as he described it.

Now he was thinking that working with you was a mistake. Not that he didn’t love you, but you were hurt and in this situation because of him.

Emilia had assigned you as technically his ‘carrier’ so it was your job to keep him on track and your job to make sure he was safe. Adrian hated it at first, but you were so kind.

You were so lovable. It was hard not to fall in love with you. It was okay though. You also fell in love with Adrian and you both made the promise to look out for each other.

He let his stupid jealousy get in the way though. How could he be so stupid?

Adrian stopped hearing you make a small noise. “What happened?”

“I heard something..” He pulled a knife out grabbing your waist to pull you behind him.

“Don’t move from me.” You nodded leaning into him to get some weight off of your leg. After a short moment, you both relaxed.

“No one is there probably a squirrel or something-Hey!” Adrian caught you before you could fall.

“Sorry. Sorry didn’t mean to fall. Leg kinda hurting s’all..” You murmured out. Adrian turned around kissing your forehead.

“You okay? Holy shit you’re cold.” You laughed a bit nodding.

“Did say was middle of winter. It’s cold out here.” Adrian sat you down against a nearby tree.

“Oh shit you’re cold. You’re really cold.” You smiled a bit at Adrian as he rubbed your arms.

“Makes no sense to me when you’re always saying how hot I am.” Adrian rolled his eyes.

“You are hot. Hottest person I know. Right now though your body is ice cold. I’m gonna try to get a fire set up so we could camp for the night okay?” Adrian kissed you softly scrounging around nearby.

You pulled your lighter out as he set up some wound trying to flick it on. Adrian chuckled a bit seeing your attempts.

“You know as well as I do you never get your lighter on.”

“I know my loving boyfriend does it for me.” You tried to hide the tremble in your hands tossing it to him. Adrian caught it cursing quietly seeing the wood not catching.

“Shit..I think it’s too damp.”

“Well yeah winter babe..Everything gonna be wet and cold.” Adrian sighed a bit angrily.

“I know you said it three times winter! I’m just trying to get you warm!”

“H-hey. I’m trying to h-help so p-please don’t snap at me.” You bit out a bit annoyed.

“Sorry. I’m sorry I’m just worried. You’re cold and your leg doesn’t look so good. It’s my fault we’re in this mess anyways..” He moved to you pulling you to lay on top of him trying to use his body to keep you warm.

“Adrian.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Y/N-”

“No listen to me. None of this is your fault. I know I said it was back there when we were getting shot at it, but it’s not your fault. Shouldn’t have blamed it on you..”

“I shouldn’t have shot that stupid guy.”

“You shot him thinking you were protecting m-me. You’re o-okay to do that. No one has ever cared for me like you Adrian..I get w-why you did it.”

“Well that’s not entirely true..”

“W-what?...”

“I shot him because I didn’t like to see you flirting with him. I didn’t mean to screw this all up. I didn’t want you to get hurt. I shouldn’t have let my stupid jealousy get involved.”

“Why did you get jealous though?” You shivered a bit smiling as he tightened his hold on you.

“I don’t know it’s dumb..I guess some part of me still thinks I’m not good enough for me..”

“Good enough for me? A-Adrian I think that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say..You’re more than good enough. Y-You’re my everything.”

“Am I really?”

“Yes you are so please remember that before you get jealous next time..If there is a next time.”

“What do you mean by that?”

You stood silent nervously glancing down at your wounded leg. It was throbbing and slowly becoming numb. Adrian didn’t have time to worry about you though.

You were supposed to watch out for him and he’d blame himself more if he knew. Chances are only one of you were gonna make it out of this forest back to the team and judging by the blood loss you endured it wasn’t going to be you.

“I mean next time we do a mission duh. What did you think I meant like that?”

“Sounded like you thought there wouldn’t be a next time. Y/N..Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah..I’m okay Adrian just cold still..” He nodded curling you into him.

“I’ll do my best to keep you warm.”

That was the last thing you heard before falling asleep. Adrian gripped you close to him staying awake to make sure no one was near. He was scared.

You both were being hunted and you were hurt. You were shivering and hurt. He was struggling to make sure he kept everything together.

The next morning, you woke up too Adrian carrying you on his back.

“Sorry..You could put me down..”

“No I checked your leg. No pressure on it so I’ll be carrying you.”

“Adrian you can’t protect us both and carry me at the same time. I can walk-”

“Don’t lie to me. I can tell when you’re lying. You clench your fist when you lie. You did it last night when i asked if you were okay.”

“Adrian..I promise I’m okay..”

“So if I put you down you will be able to stand up without my help?” You grunted before nodding.

“Yes. Yes I will.” Adrian set you down turning around quickly to catch you the second you stumbled.

“You were saying.”

“S-So maybe my leg is a little bit mixed up but I can’t have you carrying me. You need to be able to protect us with all of your strength.”

He needed to be able to run incase you both were caught. You would slow him down.

“Y/N I will be more than capable of protecting us both so now come on let me carry you- HOLY SHIT YOU’RE FREEZING!” You jumped at his outburst.

“No I-I am not-”

“Stop! Stop lying! Please! It’s so obvious you’re not okay! Come on!” Adrian lifted you up bridal style carrying you.

“We need to find the team okay-”

A gunshot cut Adrian off.

“I found them over here!”

Your eyes widened hearing random mens voices. Adrian quickly moved gripping you tightly.

“We need to hide they’re too close.” He whispered out. You shook your head shivering.

“Adrian you might need to leave me-“

“Not a chance. No way in hell am I leaving you-“

“I’m dead weight.”

“What?!” He whisper shouted angrily. “You are not dead fucking weight!”

“Y-yes I-I am..I’m gonna be honest I’m so c-cold and kinda growing numb. I’ve felt dizzy since I’ve w-woken up and my leg is hurting badly t-to t-the point I wanna cry..”

“Why haven’t you said anything?! I’ve been checking in-“

“And I didn’t wanna worry you A-Adrian…I’m scared t-though t-too. I don’t want you getting h-hurt..” Adrian gritted his teeth shaking his head.

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

“It m-might be the best t-thing-“ You choked a bit on a sob as Adrian shook his head.

“No. Okay fuck no. I’m not even letting you finish that sentence. We are both gonna get out of here and go home. We’re gonna get that leg patched up and you in warm clothing. And I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

“Y-you have nothing t-to m-make up for-“

“Yes I do. All of this is my fault. You getting hurt and you hiding your pain-“

“Not your fault-“ A gunshot rung out cutting you off.

“Adrian I need you to know t-that none of this is your fault. N-none of it. You didn’t know any of this would h-happen. You couldn’t have k-known. You need t-to get out of here n-now!”

You shoved Adrian away from you as best as you could hearing the footsteps approach. Adrian grew upset bending down and throwing you over his shoulder.

“You’re my eyes from the back. I’m not leaving you Y/N. So stop trying to get me too.”

Adrian kept running growing anxious hearing the men chasing you both now from behind. You shivered in his hold grabbing his knife from his pocket in case you needed to help defend him.

The men grew closer as Adrian ran swiftly through the woods. He stopped hiding himself behind a tree gently placing you down to rest against him.

“Hold on to me..” He whispered out as one of the men walked around the area. You gripped his knife tightly shaking not only from fear but you were cold.

“Adrian..” He hummed before looking down in shock. “I can’t stand for much longer my leg is numb..”

You were pale. Really pale. Adrian didn’t really have a good look at you till now. It was almost like you were sick.

Now that he really thought about it, you lost a lot of blood. You said your leg felt numb.

He needed to get you help and he needed to do it now. Adrian took the knife from you helping you settle down against the tree.

“I got you. I got you..I’m gonna get us out of this. I know I’ve been saying that but I swear to you I’m getting you out of this so stay here for me okay..”

“O-okay..”

Nothing started making sense now. You just knew the sound of Adrian’s voice was becoming soothing.

Adrian treaded lightly around the man nearby. There was total of four. He was trained for this.

Every night he had to hunt down criminals. This was no different. He just needed to keep them away from you.

Adrian gripped his knife quickly grabbing the man putting him in a chokehold. Swiftly he cracked the mans neck dropping him to the floor. He only had one goal in mind.

It played in a loop. Protect you. Protect you. Protect you.

He let you down once. He couldn’t do it again. One of them was down. Only two more to go. Adrian grabbed the mans jacket off of him running back to you.

“Hey hey..Wake up..” You peeked your open feeling something warm envelope you. “I got you something that should help..I’ll be back..”

Weakly nodding, you fell back to sleep. Adrian gave you a small smile removing his helmet to set gently on your head. He wanted you to have some comfort.

He didn’t stray too far from you. Adrian waited for them to get close enough to take them out. The next man he took down was even easier than the last one.

Adrian threw his knife striking him dead straight through the center of his head right where his eyebrows met. Extracting the knife, he wiped it across his pants giving a small listen for the last man who had been hunting you both.

He had managed to slip past Adrian and stumbled across you.

Feeling something kick your foot, you shifted a bit jumping once hearing a chuckle that you knew did not belong to Adrian. Crying out as the man pressed his foot into your wounded thigh.

That was all it took for Adrian to race back to you.

“Poor little lamb. Vigilante left you all alone huh? Hey boys! You’ll never guess who I found! Now where are the blueprints?” He crouched down yanking the mask off of you.

“F-fuck you.” You stuttered out feeling around for something that could help you. Anything.

The man smiled wickedly grabbing your chin. He grimaced spitting onto the floor. “Man you look worse for wear. No wonder Vigilante left you. You’re practically dead weight.”

“It’s what I said…H-he didn’t really listen. S-see V-vigilante is o-one of the n-nicest people I know..H-he would n-never leave me here e-even if I b-begged.”

“So you saying he’s someone nearby then huh? With the blueprints.” You nodded. “Perfect means I no longer need you.”

He stood up towering over you. You gripped Adrian’s mask tightly fearlessly staring the man in the eye. “D-don’t. You w-will regret i-it.”

“Well I don’t see Vigilante anywhere to make me regret it.”

“I’m right here motherfucker.” Adrian grabbed the man’s head pulling it back swiftly using his knife to slice his throat open. You sighed in relief as blood spurted out.

Adrian dropped the man like a rag doll bending down to check you over. “You okay? Did he hurt you? I swear to god I will make him pay-“

“I’m okay.. I’m o-okay..Everything d-doesn’t hurt anymore.” Adrian winced seeing your wound bleeding again. He shook his head not wanting to listen to your words.

“Come on we’re going home.” You smiled letting him pick you up.

“Good I wanna go home.” Adrian kissed your forehead at your whisper racing off. He shook you awake every time he saw your eyes droop.

“Stay with me yeah? You slept a lot already.” You blinked struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Sorry m’just tired..”

“I know but you can sleep once we get you home. So talk to me yeah? Tell me a funny story or something.”

“I’m not the funny one. You are..”

“Totally not true you make me laugh all the time. It’s one of the reasons why I love you.”

“You love me?” Adrian nodded without hesitation.

“Yes I love you. I’m not just saying that cause I’m freaking out over you being hurt. You don’t have to reply back either but I love you.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said that.”

“I know..I wanted to tell you at a less dire time. I had planned on doing it soon too. Hopefully it would be in bed with you but I need you to know that now. I love you so please stay awake.”

“I love you too.” Adrian felt a lump form in his throat gripping you tightly. “I’m so tired though. Sorry I know you’ve been doing most of the work.”

“Don’t be sorry it’s my fault we’re in this mess. I know you said it’s not but it is. Everything you did to protect me was my fault. It’s why you lied about hurting and why you wanted me to leave you.”

“Adrian..I need you to know right now that none of what I do is your fault. I chose to hide it from you. I chose to take that gunshot for you. And if I had to make these decisions again I would do the exact same thing.”

“How is that not my fault?! You love me and I made you hurt-“

“They’re not your fault because they are my decisions. No one understand the way I feel for you. Not even you.” You felt warm tears slide down your cold cheeks as Adrian sniffled.

“Yeah well they’re stupid decisions.”

“Guess you’re not the only one who’s dumb then. Makes us p-perfect for each other.”

Adrian nodded stopping in his tracks hearing a familiar voice in the distance.

“HARCOURT!!!! HARCOURT!! EMILIA!!!” You flinched at Adrian’s roar.

“CHASE IS THAT YOU!?”

“WE’RE OVER HERE! PLEASE WE ARE OVER HERE!!! I NEED HELP! SHE NEEDS HELP!!!”

“They found us..” You smiled as Adrian nodded kissing your forehead.

“Yeah bare with me yelling a bit okay? SHE’S HURT WE NEED HELP!!”

That was the last thing you heard before your vision went black.

The next time you awoke was from the feeling of someone hugging you. Blinking your eyes open, you took a small look around glancing up once you felt something tighten around your waist.

It was Adrian.

“You’re okay. I got us out. You’re okay..” He kept muttering to himself. You tried to shift but stopped wincing from the pain in your leg.

“Careful you don’t wanna tear your stitches.” Adrian smiled seeing you wearily stare up at him. “Yeah there she is. Emilia found us remember. We got you cleaned up.”

“Oh…where are we?” Adrian sat up reluctantly letting you go to reach over for the bottle of water he had saved for you.

“Drink up. You were severely dehydrated. Both of us were.” You appreciatively took small sips clearing your throat. “Also we are home. Took you to a doctor got you cleaned up and here at home.”

You smiled kissing Adrian’s chest. “Knew you’d get us home..”

“I promised i would..it was my fault we were in this whole mess-“

“Adrian Chase it was not your fault. If you say that one more time I will limp away to go sleep in the living room.”

“If you limp out of this room I will drag you back to this bed…I know you don’t want me to say it’s my fault so can I at least say I’m sorry..”

“You have nothing to apologize for-“

“Yes I do. I’m sorry I let my insecurities screw up our mission.” You nodded.

“I’ll accept your apology on letting your insecurities get to you but not on screwing up the mission. I have a feeling we would’ve been caught either way.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“I know I am…Adrian did you mean it by the way?”

“Mean what?” You nervously shifted against him hiding your face in his chest.

“When you said you loved me?..” Adrian grew silent as you adjusted throwing your leg over his hip scared of his response.

“Of course I meant it. Why would I have not?” Adrian cradled your cheek softly rubbing his thumb across it. “I’m a terrible liar you know that.”

“I know you are. I love you too by the way so please don’t think for a second I don’t..”

“I never doubted you for a second well that’s not true maybe a small small part of me did when you said it but I know you do love me. Cause I trust you.”

“You trusting me means more to me than you’ll ever know. I trust you too. You’re the only one to ever make me feel safe.” Adrian nodded kissing you softly.

“I’ll always keep you safe.”

“I never doubted you wouldn’t.”

#adrian chase #fanfiction #adrian chase x reader #vigilante fanfiction #adrian chase x you #vigilante x reader #fanfic #vigilante peacemaker #peacemaker #adrian chase peacemaker

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tellerluna-stories · 1 year

Text

episode 07: away from home and back again

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: none!

A/N: annnd welcome to the final chapter, dear readers! thank you for following this storyline to the very end :''))) I'm happy you all enjoyed thoma and mc's shenanigans, and i hope that you keep the message of this story close to your hearts <;33

Your legs flew faster than light, carrying you across the field in a flash. People stopped and stared as you rushed past, but what were they gonna do, stop you?

You ran, and ran, and ran, and ran.

(Meanwhile, you were only one millimetre away from having a complete meltdown over… whatever had just happened. Listen, it wasn’t your fault that you had zero knowledge about how to deal with this!)

The only time you slowed down was to briefly scratch Taroumarou behind the ears, for he had been waiting outside of the gate. Hey, you still had your priorities, even when you were supposed to be running away from all of your problems.

But no matter how fast you ran, your racing thoughts swiftly caught up to you— you could no longer tell if your heart was pounding because of the complete overload of cardio or if it was thanks to Thoma and his way of words. Perhaps it was both.

‘As more than friends, in fact.’

Gritting your teeth, you ran even faster, no longer caring about where you were headed. Anywhere would do just as long as you could ignore how your heart threatened to burst out of your chest to take flight, or those ridiculously impractical butterflies that swarmed in your chest cavity like a swarm of hopeful pests. Really, just what were you they hoping for?

You slowed to a stop, the dead leaves crunching under your feet.

There you went again, running away from Thoma. Why did you always run from him? Why were you so afraid of him, of allowing him to treat you gently and cherish you so?

Overhead the branches rustled, sending scattered shafts of sunlight and falling leaves tumbling down from above— in contrast to your muddled state of mind, the world around you was serenely peaceful. And to top it all off, your legs had brought you to the crosswalk where you and Thoma had apparently first met. Talk about the irony.

“Unfair.” Crouching down next to a nearby lampost, you buried your burning face into your knees. “…So unfair.”

When you had promised yourself to support Thoma’s decision no matter what, you had not anticipated this. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong— your armour of rationality was long-lost, leaving you to face your raw emotions alone and defenseless. The only sliver of comfort you could find was in the fact that there would be no cars using this road today, because the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to see you curled up like a disgruntled millipede beside the road.

The butterflies swarmed in your chest again, fluttering with the promise of hope; somehow you’d achieved the impossible and actually won the fifty-fifty percent chance of having your feelings returned. For some inexplicable reason, you… actually had a shot. At something.

“It was so much easier to think rationally when I wasn’t the one going through it,” you complained to the sky. “Can I take back all of my previous complaints, please?”

The sky remained helpfully quiet— well, you supposed that that was what you got for asking for change without even considering whether or not you were prepared for it. However, it did not make the situation any less frustrating.

“I never even expected to get this far! Now what am I supposed to do?!”

Woof!

“Taroumarou, wait for me!”

Your head snapped to the direction where that all-too-familiar voice came from— oh, you just couldn’t catch a break, could you?

Briefly you contemplated your options; the first one was to continue running away. And the second was to actually face your problems like an adult.

(Just kidding! You only technically had one option, because if you ran any more you were pretty sure you would keel over and die from overexercising. Shame on you for not giving your all in P.E. class.)

“Taroumarou…” The footsteps slowed to a stop, that voice of honey-sunshine trailing off into silence. You didn’t need to see him to know what was going on.

Taking a shaky breath, you silently accepted your fate; just like that, Thoma had found you once again.

You whirled around to meet a masterpiece straight out of the Romantic period– a work of art with golden hair gently tousled by the wind, his emerald eyes brimming with surprise. Faintly-flushed lips that had just barely managed to form your name before trailing off into reverent silence, and a school uniform in colours that matched your own.

(Somehow, the picture before you gave you a sense of deja vu.)

“I, uh– hi.”

“Hey.”

You both stood there awkwardly for a minute or two; the silence was so thick that you could’ve heard a pin drop.

(Well, except for the faint sound of whining that could be heard from behind Thoma– most likely the sound of judgement from the Boss Dog. Sorry, Taroumarou!)

“If it’s about what you overheard me say earlier, I…” He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes. “Well, it’s uh- that’s definitely not how I wanted to tell you. But if you’re uncomfortable with it—”

“No!” Your voice comes out louder than you anticipated. “I mean– no. It just…”

Oh, nothing. Just that you found out that all your unrequited pining wasn’t so unrequited after all. You, the former matchmaker who knew how to counsel any sort of relationship except your own and now had absolutely zero knowledge of how anything worked anymore because according to your predictions for yourself, something like this was statistically impossible to happen and now all of your calculations were now aflame and burning to ashes thanks to one singular puppy-boy—

Something cold and wet rolled down your face, the salty taste lingering on your tongue; with horror, you realised that you were crying.

“Wh–” You swiped at your face hastily, trying to catch the falling tears before you embarrassed yourself any more than you already did. “Please don't misunderstand! I’m not mad at you or anything!”

“Then what’s going on with you?” Thoma pleaded. “Just tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“I…” Your voice cracked, the tears not stopping even when you willed them out of existence. Stupid tear ducts.

The look in his eyes was so simple, so honest that it made you want to crumble right into his hands, and you hated it. Every cell in your body yearned to finally yield to what you'd been keeping under lock and key for so long— speak up, you coward! Running away will only hurt him!

“Since when?”

He swallowed hard. “I’m not really sure, but I think… since the beginning.”

“What?” You nearly choked on the air mid-sniffle, which was not an ideal situation to find out exactly when your long-time crush had been reciprocating your feelings. “Like, when we bumped into each other in front of the classroom?”

“No, here.” Thoma chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since… ever since we met here. I didn’t realise it back then, but…”

He trailed off in silence, the rosy flush of his face speaking for him.

If you were going to be completely honest, you gaped at him like an idiot. This guy had had a crush on you ever since he first met you – an event that you barely remembered – and he… he…

You needed to clear your head and be sincere, or else you’d really lose your mind.

“...If I'm gonna be honest, Thoma…” You say softly, every ounce of honesty pouring into your words. “I'm terrified.”

No words could describe how afraid you were; you, who no longer had any more armour or defenses to put up. Like a reckless, well-meaning dog in a china shop, all of those had been destroyed by the gentle heart of the young man before you, leaving you in complete surrender. And no words would ever capture the absolute joy running through your veins when he chose to be with you over anyone else, when he chose to care for you even when he didn't have to.

…Which was really frustrating, considering that now you actually wanted to verbalise your feelings. Just where did your gift of speech go when you needed it most?

“I’m… really not the best with words. Or feelings. Or—”

“Hey.” Thoma interrupts you mid-sentence, raising his eyebrows in his signature ‘don't you dare start self-deprecating’ expression.

“Right. Sorry.” You cleared your throat. “I don't— I'm just…”

“... It's okay, you know.”

His eyes softened, that bittersweet smile spreading across his face like sickness. “Like I said, I didn't want you to find out that way because I didn't want you to be pressured. You don't have to be considerate of me.”

Eh…?

Your eyes widened— what was he saying?

“Once again, I'm sorry for tangling you up in all this,” His words sounded distant and murky, reverberating through the thick fog of your clouded mind. “Please forget about anything I said—”

Horror and panic flooded your entire mind as you realised what he was saying; no, no, no, no, wait that wasn't what you were supposed to tell him wait wait wait—!

“I don't want to!” You practically shouted at the top of your lungs and buried your face in your hands miserably, crouching down once more in dead millipede position as you cursed your terrible communication skills– why, why, why did you have to be so bad at this?! “I like you too, for crying out loud!”

Absolute silence.

“...Thoma?”

He didn’t reply.

Several minutes passed, and still no response; you mustered your courage to peep through your fingers and nearly choked on your spit. You really, really didn’t want to laugh in this scenario, but… Thoma looked like he had just gotten hit with a shovel.

Taroumarou silently padded towards Thoma and gently tugged on his pant leg, but the puppy-boy remained unmoving. No amount of tugging or nipping would budge the golden statue no matter how hard the Boss Dog tried– but from the way he seemed too familiar with the procedure, you got a feeling that this wasn’t the first time that Taroumarou had to deal with this.

Finally, Taroumarou gave a resigned whimper and raised one of his hind legs– your eyes widened in horror as you realised what he was about to do.

“Taroumarou, don’t!”

Thoma nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sound of your voice, snapping out of his daze at a most admirable speed; the Boss Dog retreated hastily, giving a reproachful sneeze as he skittered back to a safe distance. The miserable expression on his face had you silently apologising to Taroumarou for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day.

“Um.” Thoma blinked owlishly, a confused (and hopelessly adorable) expression on his face. “I- I didn’t mishear you, right? You said that…”

“...Yeah. I did.”

“Oh.” His eyes somehow widened even further. “Oh.”

“I- look.” You began, ruffling your hair in frustration. “I can’t word it properly, so I’ll be borrowing some of your words here. Do you remember the last time we were here and I asked you what it meant to be in- in…”

‘Thoma, what does falling in love feel like?’

Your spit caught itself in your throat again, nearly choking you to death from the power of sheer embarrassment. What had you been thinking?!

“In…” Thoma’s voice trailed off, a rosy flush gracing his cheeks– why was he the one blushing like a young maiden here?! “Ah. I remember.”

“Right! Anyways!” Your hands flailed around nervously till they found their place on the lamp-post, your nails digging into the metal. “I- I kinda get what you were talking about now! The whole flying-but-falling, afraid but not thing…” Your voice trailed off as you accidentally made eye contact with Taroumarou, who had slowly walked up to hover behind Thoma’s ankles.

Kill me now, said the Boss Dog’s expression. Please. Death would be more merciful than having to sit through this.

That death stare alone was enough to make you rethink every word that was about to come out of your mouth; no, you didn't want to admit that you were doing this thanks to a dog, but… he had a point.

You were hiding again, hiding behind words that Thoma had already used like the wretched coward you were, all because you were too afraid of taking the leap. But it was time for you to grow up— if he could manage being blatantly honest about his feelings (the horror!), then so could you.

Yes, you decided, squaring your shoulders and looking Thoma directly in the eye. The time had come for you to suck it up and say what you really meant.

“...Do you remember the day we became seat-mates?” You asked quietly.

“Of course,” He replied almost immediately. “How could I possibly forget?”

In spite of yourself, a soft chuckle makes its way out of you; it only felt like yesterday in your memories, but so much time had passed between then and now.

“I still remember how confused I was to see you there,” You continued, a wry smile working its way up your lips. “Back then, I didn’t care who or what would sit beside me in class. I just wanted peace and quiet.”

You thought of how lonely and grey the world had felt when you had attained your desired empty seat, completely lacking in the warm hues that you had become accustomed to. Fiery yet gentle red, a warm sunset orange, and yellow that shone like sunlight– for someone who had experienced such vibrant hues, returning to black and grey was a torturous existence. How could you ever return to a normal life when you had already experienced it in colour?

“...Yeah, I definitely didn't get any peace and quiet after that.”

Thoma winced visibly. “Sorry.”

“Hey, don't be sorry. It was a good thing because…” You hesitated for a moment. “...I was happy.”

You could admit as much, though that sentence alone would never be able to capture how elated you were, the dizzying joy that rushed through your entire being when you realised that someone genuinely went out of their way to spend time with you. That somebody saw you standing in the shadows and went to stand with you, slowly walking with you till you stood side-by-side in the light.

To you, the forgotten extra, the afterthought who was only remembered when needed— there were no words that could describe how precious that feeling was.

(Man. You had fallen even harder than you originally expected. )

“Even if I’m bad at showing it, I was really happy. The times we ate lunch on the rooftop, or when we'd walk home and laugh about what happened during the day…”

Your fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt as you chuckled, shaking your head in resignation. “And that's why I didn't want to say anything about it. Because I was so happy I was afraid I'd mess it all up.”

That didn't even capture one-fourth of how terrified and confused you felt; the concept of someone finding genuine interest in you as a person was so alien to you that you tried to push it away, running as fast as you can till your legs gave out. But all the same your heart yearned and bled for the opportunity to be cherished, for something to change in your closed-off, wretched mindset, for someone to see through your armour and understand.

“I’m scared, Thoma. It feels like I’ve been reborn, and it all started when I met you.” Your eyes prickled dangerously, warning you of the tears that threatened to spill any moment now. “Everything is so new to me, and it scares me so, so much— I’m terrified of change.”

Good job, whispered a part of your brain— and in spite of being on the verge of tears, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest slightly loosened, leaving you with your raw emotions. Your mind flowed freely, recalling so many precious memories and feelings that you had accumulated over all your time with Thoma; all were so dear to your heart that you wished you could hoard them away forever. In complacency you had hoped to preserve them in a state of eternal tranquility, but…

“...Me too, actually.”

“Hah?” You blinked owlishly, your eyes coming back into focus just in time to see Thoma flush pink.

“I mean– uh, well, I get you there!” He sputtered furiously, rubbing the back of his neck with the same charmingly awkward air that he always had. “I really, really cherish all the time we spent together, but I didn’t know if it was the same for you, and I was– I was…”

I was afraid, just the same as you.

For a moment you're struck with the sheer irony of it all— this all could have been very easily avoided if you had actually just communicated with each other and weren't actual boneheads when it came to subtle cues.

Was it still too late to launch yourself directly into the sun?

“...Looks like we were in the same boat all this time, huh.”

“Yeah,” Thoma replied. “I guess so.”

That's it?! You wanted to scream at yourself. You had wasted so much time dawdling because of your fears, and now you didn't even have the energy to say anything anymore.

Thoma didn't deserve this, no– this was why you had thought he deserved better. He shouldn't have had to carry the burden of a coward like you who couldn't even say anything when it mattered most—

“I… You should go.” You sniffed most unbecomingly, dabbing at your eyes with the stiff fabric of your uniform. “Sorry– sorry for just bursting out like this all of a sudden. It’s not like me.”

But he didn’t turn away; instead, Thoma stepped forward to the edge of the curb. The dead leaves rustled around his ankles restlessly, parting themselves to make a path for his feet.

What on earth was he doing?

“Thoma, didn’t you hear me?”

“I know.” His emerald eyes fixed themselves solely onto you, soft yet steady— the intensity of his gaze sent heat flushing to your ears and your face in a most unwelcome manner. And then Thoma stepped even closer, blocking you from view with his body. "Sorry, I’m- I just…”

Your grip tightened on the lamp-post, instinctively trying to steady yourself for whatever he was about to say.

“I…” Thoma cleared his throat, the faintest trace of pink colouring his cheeks. “I just want to be a bit selfish, even for just a little while. I want to keep this moment for myself."

His voice is barely above a whisper, one softer than the dreams of a sleeping child, yet those words rang louder in your ears than a thousand school-bells. If — and only if — your intuition was correct, then this moment was a secret meant to be shared with only two people, one as well-kept as a hidden gem of a bakery.

(The sudden recalling of a certain memory made you flush even hotter— was that what he had meant to imply that day?)

“Do you know how happy you’ve made me?” He asked, a gentle smile gracing his lips like no other.

“No, not really,” You managed to force out, your voice wavering from all the tears you choked down. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Please send help.”

Behind Thoma, Taroumarou put a paw over his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to watch (well in his defense, you wouldn’t have wanted to watch this either.) But Thoma did not cringe, no— he threw back his head and laughed.

His was a light, airy laugh that sang of freedom, of joy, and of release; this was the laughter of a boy who’d been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders but was finally released from everything that had been holding him back. It was the joy of a young man who now knew that there was no need for him to hide any longer, that the truth of his heart was one reciprocated.

And then when he finished laughing, he gave you a smile that said, 'Don't worry. I'll help you, no matter how many times it'll take.'

Your hands trembled, your nails digging into your palms as you struggled to process what he just said.

You were… messy. Inconvenient. A violent delinquent who couldn’t control your temper, someone who pushed away affection at every opportunity and ran away when confronted with your emotions. So why did he keep reaching for you? What about you made Thoma want to keep coming back?

“I’m not perfect either, you know.” Thoma smiled ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get stressed out when I can’t live up to everyone’s expectations of me, and I can’t tell when I’m allowed to say no and be myself. But I’ve learned a lot, all thanks to you.”

Why are you the one saying that to me? You’ve taken the words out of my mouth, you wanted to cry out. Unfair, unfair, unfair.

“It always feels like home when I’m with you. Studying with you, eating with you— even if it’s just walking with you, I feel like I’ve finally come home.” He continued, fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously. “Even if I feel nervous and unsure of myself, at the same time I’ve never felt safer. And it sounds rather selfish, but… I want to be able to give you that same sanctuary.”

The leaves fell to the ground silently, all the world quiet as if holding its breath to hear your response; Thoma shifted nervously, clearly more flustered than you’d ever seen him before.

His flush deepened. “If- if you’d let me, of course. Is it okay if I keep doing that, even when we’re old and grey?”

The tight, uncomfortable feeling in your chest suddenly released without warning, and your weary heart cried out in relief. You didn’t have to run away anymore.

You… didn’t have to run away anymore.

There was no reason for you to swallow your feelings down till they bloomed in your lungs like poisonous flowers; no, there had never been any reason for you to suffer in silence at all. You had worried for nothing when apparently he had always, always been looking at you– all this time you had been someone special to him, someone more than a funny sidekick or someone to set him up for his next character arc.

Tears ran down your face undisturbed, the warmth reminding you that this— all of this, was real. Thoma was real.

(And there was also that obnoxious little part of your brain screaming “VICTORYYYYYYYY!!!!” at the top of its lungs, so yes, this was definitely real. You would never have daydreamt that annoying shriek up, whether deliberately or not.)

Your legs ached to run away once more— but not away from Thoma, for the first time in this entire time period of knowing him and liking him. You wanted to run towards him and be caught up in his arms – or catch him up in yours – and cry. Or laugh. Or anything would do, just as long as it was with him and him alone. You wanted to make up for all the times you ran away from his sincerity out of fear, mistaken his kindness for some ulterior motive thanks to your never-ending paranoia.

Let’s go home, whispered your prodigal heart.

"Wait, stay there." Your voice trembled. "You're always the one who comes to find me. This time- this time…”

I want to be the one who goes to you.

His eyes widened slightly in confusion, but the puppy-boy nodded in acknowledgement.

Taking a shaky breath, you eyed the wide stretch of asphalt that stood between you and Thoma— a divide that you had put there in the first place, but who was to say that you couldn’t remove it?

Your foot trembled as you took one faltering step forward, planting your shoe in the center of one white stripe of the crosswalk. Courage, that was all you needed.

I’m not good enough for him, said a nasty, hateful inner voice. Three steps and not a single reply, for such folly was beneath your attention.

This won’t work out, said another. You ignored it and took another two steps forward.

I don’t deserve to be loved like this. Ouch, that one hurt— four steps forward, because you were feeling petty.

He waited patiently, just as he always did; the fading sunlight danced in his eyes of emerald, dazzling your world with the light of a thousand unshed tears. For a moment you remembered an old film based on a true story, one that told of a loyal dog who also sat and waited for someone special in his life.

You’re almost home now, said the look in Thoma’s eyes. Don’t give up yet, please, please, please.

A small part of you sighed and wondered what you had become— someone who was practically wrapped around the finger (the paw?) of an insolent puppy-boy, a reserved individual whose heart melted and now yearned for someone who shone like the sun. Realistically, you could have just run away once more and avoided dealing with this.

But the reason why it was called falling in love was because it meant that the other person would catch you, knowing that you would do exactly the same for them. And you wanted to become someone who could do exactly that for Thoma.

You prayed for strength, for bravery to see this through to the end; if you wanted to be that person for Thoma, then you would need courage. No matter how many times your legs trembled on this road, no matter how many people tried to tell you this and that, you could not run away. You didn’t want to run away this time.

One step, two steps— just a little further, you told yourself. You just needed a little more courage to brave your journey to its end.

One last step forward, and you held your breath, hardly daring to breathe as you allowed him to envelop you in warmth. A part of you still wondered if it was a dream, but that faint, familiar scent of laundry soap, the unprecedented warmth that bubbled up in your throat… you could never have dreamt that up in a thousand lifetimes.

“…I’m here, Thoma.” Your voice trembles ever so slightly.

He smiles and buries his face into the crown of your head, stroking your hair with a tenderness that you now knew was reserved only for you. “Welcome home.”

From a distance, Taroumarou watched as his subordinates embraced in a mess of tears, a satisfied almost-smile on his fluffy face. This entire ordeal had been ridiculously drawn out and could’ve been avoided if they had just communicated properly, but… the Boss Dog supposed that all was well if it ended well. You could only be a pup once, and as long as his subordinates were happy, then he was satisfied too.

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kanerallels · 3 months

Text

My first Februfluff fic for @monthly-challenge! For the prompt "sharing food" I FINALLY finished a Valiant fic. It's three chapters long over on AO3 (and technically the food sharing doesn't happen until the last chapter, but it's close enough) but they're pretty short, and you can also read the full thing under the cut!

Read on AO3

The police were already there when he pulled into the Reggen family estate’s driveway. Technically, Federal Marshalls weren’t first responders, but Galen had been called anyway. It was his family who lived here, after all— and his CI who was involved in the incident, allegedly.

As he strode towards the front door, flashing his badge to the cop who moved to stop him, Galen could already hear Eldin shouting. “This is unacceptable— I am not allowing some deceptive criminal to stay in my house and endanger our family!”

There was a response in a lower voice— Lissa, Galen guessed— and Eldin let out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. “Not her fault? Oh, no, how could it be? She only CHALLENGED AN ENTIRE GANG!”

Galen located the source of the noise— the study, which he still thought of as Torren’s even after he’d been gone for a few years now— and pushed the door open. Eldin was standing behind the desk, face flushed red with frustration, and Lissa stood before him, her face set impassively. They both looked up at his arrival.

“About time,” Eldin snapped, glaring at him. “Our home is under assault, and it’s your little criminal’s fault, Verras.”

It took a bit of a struggle to keep his face impassive, avoiding the grimace he felt. Eldin was far from his most reasonable at the moment, and this situation was going to be hard to deal with. “I heard there was an incident,” Galen said, his voice steady.

“Someone drove by and threw a brick through the window,” Lissa said. Her voice was far less hysterical than Eldin’s, but still a little unsteady as she continued, “The brick has the Duke’s symbol on it.”

“Which means it’s a message,” Eldin said, folding his arms and scowling. “And that message says that we’re being endangered by that Gramton girl and her brat.”

Don’t lash out. Stay calm, you know it won’t help. “Saville is in danger, too,” Galen said, keeping his voice low and reasonable. “You can’t just throw her out into the street, there’s too much at stake here. She’s our best weapon against them—”

“She’s a liability, and I want her GONE!”

“Eldin—”

Jabbing a finger at him, Eldin said, “Don’t you DARE try and convince us, Marshal Verras. She’s leaving TONIGHT and that’s final.”

“If you throw her out, someone could come after her—”

“I don’t care, so long as it doesn’t happen in our house! We are the victims here, you realize!”

Galen loved his cousin, he truly did. But there were times when he almost wanted to take him by the shoulders and shout at him. Didn’t he see that Saville was in danger of far more than bricks through the window?

But she had yet to flinch, even after facing down gang leaders and his cousins and the AUSA, Leymonn. She’d been terrified, Galen could see that much. But despite all of it, she’d stood strong and fierce, protecting Will and herself.

He admired it. Maybe more so than he should have.

“Well?” Eldin’s sharp tone cut through Galen’s thoughts. “Are you going to do something about her? Or should I call Leymonn, see what he thinks we should do with her?”

No. If Leymonn got involved, Saville would wind up on the streets, or worse. Galen glanced at Lissa, hoping to find an ally there. But her gaze was lowered. Which means it’s up to me.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’ll handle it. Where is she?”

I could hear the shouting from all the way upstairs, in the small room I’d been given when Marshal Verras brought Will and I to the Reggen’s home. Pressing my lips together, I tried hard not to scowl, to push down the fury I felt twisting in my chest.

It wasn’t as if I’d ever been a particularly welcome guest here. Eldin had treated me with uneasy dislike, and his attorney friend Leymonn with open disdain. Lissa had, after a little while, become more civil with me, but we were far from becoming best friends. The brick through the window had been the last straw, and Eldin had demanded Will and I leave before the police had even arrived.

So here I was. Shoving clothes into the ancient suitcase I’d carried with me when we had left. Trying not to think about everything at once— where we would go, what would happen next, how soon the Duke’s men would catch up with us.

“Sir?”

My eyes moved up to where Will was sitting on the bed. He’d been given his own room, but snuck into my room to curl up with a few blankets on the rug next to it almost every night. He’d been sleeping there when we’d both been jolted awake by screeching tires, shattering glass, and the sound of Eldin shouting.

He’d stayed upstairs while I went down to deal with the situation, but I knew he’d had to hear the yelling. And with me packing, he knew what was going on.

“Where are we going to go?” he whispered.

It was a good question. A question I wished I could answer properly, or at the very least, protect him from. But Will was far too smart for me to lie to. “We can’t go back to the shop,” I told him. “It’s being watched, by the Duke’s men and by the marshals. I have a little money, so we might be able to afford a hotel room.”

I hoped, at least. If there wasn’t enough, we might find ourselves sleeping on a park bench, and I had a very hard time believing the Duke would let us last the night somewhere so vulnerable. If only I could keep him safe. If only I could keep both of us safe. If only I didn’t have to. Sky above, it was getting hard to stand up to everything coming my way.

There was a small part of me, a part that I could never entertain for long, that wished someone else could be strong for me. That someone would come along and protect us. But I knew better. I would have to protect both myself and Will, whatever it took.

“Go get your things,” I told him quietly.

Will got to his feet, looking a little less nervous than he had before. But I knew him well enough to see that he was still scared. And, if I was being honest, I was too.

Enough of that, I told myself. Now’s not the time for honesty, if it makes things worse. Now is the time to grit your teeth and get it done, because no one is going to do it for you.

As Will slipped out of my room, I caught the sound of a familiar baritone downstairs, cutting through Eldin’s yelling. It was too low for me to make out the words, but I knew who it was. Marshal Verras had arrived on the scene. Which meant he was probably going to try and convince Will and I to stay, and I’d have none of that.

We may have been protected from the Duke and his men here, but we weren’t safe. Not really, with Leymonn skulking in and out all week, making sly comments about Will and trying to leverage me into agreeing to things.

Eldin and Lissa may have been hard to deal with, but Leymonn was far worse. He didn’t scare me— his power did, and what he might do with it.

So I was leaving, and so was Will, and that was that. Gathering myself, I collected the last of my things in the room— a jacket hanging over the end of the bedstead. The puzzle box that Marshal Verras had given Will to play with. The shirt of Will’s I’d been mending, which I tucked into her suitcase— and headed for the door.

Will was waiting for me outside my door, his backpack over one shoulder. Together, we headed for the door for the stairs that led down to the main level. I clutched her suitcase in one hand, slipping my jacket around my shoulders.

I pulled open the door, and came face to face with Marshal Verras.

He looked only mildly surprised to see Will and I. His gaze moved from me to the suitcase in my hand to Will, then back to me.

Lifting my chin, I said, “We’re not staying here.”

To my surprise, he nodded. “No, you’re not. You and Will are coming with me.”

I only hesitated a minute before following him, down the stairs and into the main hall. There were a handful of police there, some of them interviewing Eldin and Lissa. Several of them looked up as the three of us entered.

“My car is out front,” Marshal Verras told me quietly, passing me the keys. “Go wait for me there, alright?” A smile twitched across his face, and he added, “Try not to take off without me.”

I found myself almost smiling in response, remembering the day I’d tried to escape the Reggen’s house by breaking into his car. I’d almost made it, but he’d been there, and convinced me to stay, that it would be safer for Will and I. I’d been frustrated at the time, but had known, as I did now, that he was looking out for us. “I won’t,” I said.

Will and I slipped out the door just as Eldin started demanding to know what was going on. I could hear arguing erupt as we headed to Marshal Verras’s car, but I didn’t look back. Instead, I unlocked it, slipped into the backseat with Will, and waited.

He came out of the house roughly ten minutes later, looking tired, with a slightly grim set to his mouth. But when he opened his door and dropped into the driver’s seat, he glanced back at the two of us and quietly said, “I’ll bring you somewhere safe for the night. We can talk about everything else tomorrow.”

“Alright,” I said. There were a thousand different questions bouncing around her head. But I was so tired, and so was Will— he was already nodding off against my shoulder. So I kept my questions inside for now, and passed Marshal Verras his car keys.

The car drive passed in a blur of back roads and headlights. I found myself nearly nodding off on a few occasions, and by the time we pulled up to a large house, I could scarcely keep my eyes open.

Rubbing at them viciously, I turned to Will, only to find him fast asleep. Wincing, I moved to wake him up, but Marshal Verras held up a hand, stopping me.

“I’ve got him,” he whispered, passing me his keys again. “You get the door.”

Dimly, I knew there was something that a far less tired version of me should be connecting about all this, but at the moment, all I cared about was finding a bed. The Duke himself could show up and I would ignore him in favor of curling up under some blankets.

So I took the keys and made my way to the front door. Marshal Verras followed after unbuckling Will, then picking him up, carefully resting his head against his shoulder.

He was so gentle with him, so cautiously unlike his usual stern, grave exterior. It caught at me, making my heart stutter, just a little. Hastily, I turned my gaze to the door.

It took me a few minutes to find the right key, but when I finally did the door swung open to a dark house. Marshal Verras took the lead, heading for a nearby flight of stairs, and I followed him to a set of doors.

Fumbling for a moment, he managed to push the door open, revealing a bedroom. Two beds took up most of the space, with a table between them and a dresser on the far side near the window. After carefully lowering Will onto one of the beds, Marshal Verras turned to me. “I assumed you would want to share, so that Will didn’t get confused,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“Yes— thank you,” I said, wishing I could put my gratitude in my voice properly. We were safe and together and far away from both the Duke and the Reggen’s. Nothing I could say would really cover all that I felt.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Get some rest, Saville. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

The door shut behind him with a quiet click, and I found myself alone, swaying on my feet. Pausing only to pull a blanket over Will, I moved to the other bed and collapsed, my eyes flickering shut almost immediately.

My sleep was deep and peaceful, without any real dreams. I wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed before I jolted awake, disoriented. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. And the events of the night before began to piece themselves together in my head.

Sitting up, I held back a yawn as I took a better look at the room. The sunlight streaming in through the window and lighting up the pale blue walls told me that it was late, but not too late. Will was still curled up under his blanket, breathing steadily.

Seeing him peaceful and calm eased a tension I hadn’t even fully realized I was carrying around. I wished, not for the first time, that I hadn’t dragged him into all of this. That Will could be safe.

He’s safe here, now, I reminded myself. He’s away from Leymonn, and the longer that lasts, the better.

Although that did bring up the question of where here was. Even as I thought it, however, I was fairly certain I knew. We were at Marshal Verras’s house. It was the only place he could have conceivably brought us under such short notice.

It shouldn’t have been strange— but it was, a little. More than just strange, though, it meant he’d found yet another way to help me, to protect both of us. I owed this man more than I’d ever be able to pay back.

There has to be something I can do for him, though. To thank him, even in a small way. I thought for a minute, then got up from my bed.

Stopping next to Will’s bed, I knelt down beside him, brushing his hair back from his eyes gently. His eyes flickered open, and he whispered sleepily, “Sir? Are we safe?”

“We are,” I told him, my heart aching a little. “I’m going to go downstairs to make some breakfast. I won’t be far, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Will mumbled, his eyes already drifting shut again. I watched him for another moment, then rose to head downstairs.

It became apparent the minute I left my room that this wasn’t exactly a small house. It was far from the mansion-like quality of the Reggen’s house— which made sense. Their family had founded this town, after all— but it was far larger than me and my family had ever owned.

It was certainly fancy, but understated enough that I didn’t feel overwhelmed. It felt more natural and lived in than Eldin and Lissa’s— stacks of books on side tables, newspapers and files here and there, along with a few empty cups.

It took me a few minutes to locate the kitchen. It was large, but painted in warm shades of yellow and orange that didn’t seem to match Marshal Verras at all. As I rummaged through a few cupboards, I wondered if someone else lived here, or if it was just him. He hadn’t mentioned much about his family, other than the fact that Eldin and Lissa were his cousins, and I hadn’t noticed a ring. Did he have a girlfriend?

Was it strange that I hoped he didn’t?

I pushed away the thought firmly, and returned to searching for the ingredients I needed. I was a decent cook, when I needed to be, and one of the recipes I knew I’d mastered was pancakes. The very least I could do, at this point, was make breakfast for Marshal Verras.

It was such a little thing, and he’d done so much more to protect Will and I. He’d wrangled Eldin and Lissa, convincing them to let us stay because we would be safe there. He’d figured out the paperwork to keep them from taking Will back into the system, he’d faced off with Leymonn more times than I could count. This was very literally the least I could do.

I did her best to be quiet as I assembled my ingredients and pulled out a frying pan, knowing that Will— and probably our host— was still sleeping. But something, be it the clattering of the bowls or pans, or the sound of me moving around, must have disturbed him, because he appeared just as I was pouring the batter onto the pan, carrying his handgun. He lowered it the minute he saw me.

“Saville?” he blinked at me, looking disoriented. This was the first time I’d seen him not totally put together, I realized. His tie and jacket were gone, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair was sticking every which way. It was almost endearing, and I had to hold back a smile.

His gaze traveled from me, to the frying pan and the bowl of batter next to it, and back to me. “What are you doing?”

“Making us breakfast, of course,” I said.

Galen didn’t think of himself as a man who was often caught off guard. But when he woke up and found Saville Gramton making pancakes in his kitchen, that surprised him.

“Breakfast?” he said slowly, eyebrows traveling upwards.

Saville nodded. “Yes. Breakfast. I assume you’re familiar with the concept.”

Letting out a snort of amusement, Galen slid his weapon back into the holster strapped to his chest, switching the safety back on as he did so. “I am,” he said, “but that doesn’t explain— how did you find everything?”

“I looked,” Saville told him, pouring out another measuring cup full of pancake batter. It hit the pan with a satisfying sizzle, the smell of cooking pancakes rising through the air. “Your kitchen is a lot better organized than your office.”

“I don’t use it as much,” Galen said. “Why don’t you let me take care of that?”

“I’ve got it,” she said, directing a frown at him as he started to open his mouth to tell her that he didn’t mind, that she should get some rest, that the idea of cooking for her was actually very appealing. (Well. He probably wasn’t going to add the last part, true though it was.) “If you want, you can make some coffee.”

Coffee sounded like an excellent idea, and Galen moved over to the coffee pot to get started. As he filled the filter with coffee grounds, he glanced at her again. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“It was the least I could do,” she said, flipping one of the pancakes. “And someone had to do it.”

“I would have.”

“I know. But…” she paused before glancing up at him with one of her direct, honest looks. “You’ve done so much. For Will and I. This is one small thing I can do to repay you.”

“Oh.” Galen felt himself flush a little, which shouldn’t be surprising. She’d turned out to have that effect on him, with her unabashed stubbornness and honesty— and he was pretty sure she enjoyed it. “Thank you. It’s not necessary, but thank you. I’m just doing my job.”

“In that case, I take it back.” A half-smirk crossed her face briefly, and she added, “In fact, I’m sorry. I’ll throw your serving out now, then.”

“I accept your apology,” Galen said, and she looked up at him, so startled that he couldn’t hold back his smile anymore. And for just a moment, her smile matched his.

But then she glanced back down hastily, and the moment was gone. “I need some plates.”

“Right,” Galen said, a thread of remorse pulling at his heart, though he couldn’t say why. Just that it had been nice to have a moment, just the two of them laughing at an inside joke. That it was nice to be able to smile and see her smile, in the face of such things as they were dealing with.

Turning, he opened one of the nearby cupboards and started pulling out plates. He’d barely gotten them to the counter when there was a clatter and a cry of pain.

“Saville!” Galen spun around, concern flashing through his chest at the sight of Saville wincing, her hand cradled against her chest. The spatula she’d been using lay on the stovetop.

Crossing the room, he said, “Are you alright? Let me see.”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice tight as she waved him off. “My hand slipped— it’s just a burn.”

“At least let me take care of these while you run it under cold water,” Galen told her. She gave a quick nod, crossing the room to the sink.

As she turned on the tap, Galen picked up the spatula and turned his attention to the pancakes. Flipping one, he slid the other two onto the plate he’d set nearby, and grabbed the cup, using it to pour more batter onto the pan.

He kept his gaze focused on his task, but he could hear Saville moving near the sink, and a few seconds later the tap shut off. Her voice came a second later. “I can take over now, Marshal Verras.”

“I’ve got it handled,” Galen told her firmly. He could sense her hovering nearby for a heartbeat, and glanced her way. “I do. Sit down— how’s your hand?”

“It doesn’t really hurt anymore,” she said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “And I don’t mind taking over.”

“I know,” Galen said, deftly flipping another pancake onto a plate. “But I don’t mind either. And I think you should call me Galen. It doesn’t seem right to go around Marshal-ing someone you’re making pancakes with.”

It took a heartbeat before she met his gaze, but she lifted an eyebrow nonetheless. “Marshal-ing?”

“It’s an official term, I’m sure,” he said, smiling. Hoping she’d listen to him. It made sense— they’d known each other long enough, worked together on this case long enough.

And truth be told, he wanted to hear her say his name. Few enough people used his first name, and he knew there would be something special about her saying it, just by the virtue of it being Saville.

“Here,” he said, sliding her a plate with two of the pancakes stacked on it. “Eat.”

Accepting the plate and the fork he handed her a few seconds afterwards, Saville offered him a smile. “Thank you, Marshal Ver— Galen. Thank you, Galen.”

“You’re welcome, Saville.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, Galen stacking pancakes on one of the bigger plates he’d taken down. Saville got up a few minutes later and poured both of them a cup of coffee, adding a single dash of milk to his cup— exactly the way he liked it. He hadn’t known she’d noticed, but he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Galen was just adding the final pancake to the now somewhat precarious stack when Will appeared in the kitchen doorway. Yawning and rubbing at his eyes, he surveyed the scene before him. “Is there breakfast?” he asked.

“Right here,” Galen said, offering him a plate with a few pancakes on it. The boy accepted it immediately and took the seat next to Saville.

As he drowned the pancakes in syrup, Saville handed him the fork Galen passed her. “Did you sleep well?” she asked, smoothing down where his hair was sticking up in the back.

“Yeah— thanks for the pancakes, Mr. Verras,” Will said, cutting them into pieces.

“You’re welcome, Will,” Galen said, switching off the stove. Taking another sip of his coffee, he grabbed another plate, and claimed a seat next to Saville.

As she passed him the maple syrup, Will said, “This is a fancy house— whose is it?”

“Mine,” Galen said, covering his pancakes with syrup. “Or, my family’s, really. I grew up here, but when my father retired, he and my mother moved south and left the house to my siblings and I. My brothers had already moved on, so I was the only one who could get much use out of it.”

“It seems a big house to live in all alone,” Saville said, her gaze moving from him to the rest of the kitchen, taking it in in a thoughtful look. He wondered what she saw. So often, she seemed to see things he didn’t, stitch together tiny details that he almost wouldn’t have noticed.

That was why he’d told Leymonn he saw better when he was with her. And it was the truth.

“It is,” he admitted wryly, cutting into his breakfast. The pancakes were just as good as he’d expected, and he took a minute to savor the bite he’d taken before he spoke again. “I feel a little foolish sometimes, living here. But I don’t have to pay any rent, and it’s… it’s home, in a way. I don’t know that I could bring myself to leave. Not until I’m ready, at any rate.”

He saw something like understanding in Saville’s eyes, but before she or Will could speak, the sound of a phone ringing split the air. His phone, Galen realized.

“Excuse me,” he said, rising to his feet and heading out of the kitchen.

He’d left his jacket draped over the back of his chair, and his phone in the pocket. Fishing it out, Galen flipped it open and answered it. “Verras.”

“Good, you’re awake.” Galen recognized the voice on the other end immediately— Anders, another marshal in his department. They weren’t close, but they shared a mutual dislike for Leymonn. “Your cousin showed up and told Leymonn what happened last night, and they’re in rare form. Leymonn’s trying to get in contact with a judge. I don’t know what he’s got up his sleeve, but—”

“But it’s a bad sign,” Galen finished, grimacing. “Thank you, Anders. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Snapping the phone shut, he headed back into the kitchen. Saville and Will looked up at his entrance, and he could see the wariness in Saville’s eyes. “Is something—”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he told her. “But… Leymonn found out about what happened last night. So I need to get into work now, head off anything that he’s planning.”

“Do you need us to come with you?” she asked, already getting to her feet. But Galen shook his head.

“Stay here for now— I’ll be back or call in a few hours. Feel free to make yourself at home— there’s a library a few doors down from my office, and keys to any of the other doors in the house in my desk drawer.” Catching Saville’s gaze, he added, “But please, stay here.”

Saville nodded. “Okay. But call us soon.”

“I will.”

It didn’t take long for Galen to get ready. Throwing on his jacket, he grabbed his car keys and was heading out the door when he stopped. Just for a moment, lingering outside of the kitchen door.

Saville and Will were still sitting there— Will eating and talking, Saville quietly sliding him a napkin as she listened. Her gaze moved to where Galen stood for a minute, and she sent him a smile.

Somehow, that smile sent a little flash of energy through him. He knew the rest of the day was going to be long and tiring, and that battling Leymonn would take up half of it. But that smile helped, more than it should have.

For a minute, he wished he could stay with them. But that was dangerously close to wishing for something that he wasn’t at liberty to want. Not now, not with a woman who was part of a case he was in charge of.

Focus up, Verras, he told himself. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.

He gave himself one last backward glance, then left the house.

#valiant sarah mcguire #saville gramton #galen verras #will (valiant)#king eldin #princess lissa #modern au #this is from the same au as the first and only valiant fic i've ever written btw #tw for death threats and minor injury #writing stories is a kind of magic too #februfluff2024 #februfluff #monthly challenge

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nomsfaultau · 7 months

Text

13) “Give me your hands” and 22) Survivior’s guilt.

Disclaimer: this blurb is set in the SCP SBI AU I have called Fault, and dances over the timeline so good luck. Explanation of AU; tldr.

“Give me your hands.” The stranger’s voice was gruff and demanding, and Tommy complied at once. It wasn’t that he was intimidated! Sure the random demon he’d summoned was massively tall, extremely strong, and just killed a lot of people, but Tommy was an alpha male! And anyway, the bloke technically saved his life in the barest sense of the word, so he had to be a good guy. Nevermind that Tommy watched people be reduced to smears running down the walls. They were villains. That was what they deserved. Right?

Tommy held a little stiller than he preferred, acutely aware of how easily the boar hero’s fists crunched skulls in. But the enormous hooves were surprisingly gentle as they held Tommy’s hands, prodding in their examination. His hero adjusted his dorky glasses and peered closer, curiously studying the strange crimson color curling around Tommy’s fingers. Blood mixed into the ruby power dancing across Tommy’s palms, indistinguishable.

The Blade hadn’t been the only one killing the villains.

“...huh. I’m guessing this red stuff is what summoned me?”

“I think so? Do you know what it is?”

His hero grunted. “I was hoping you’d know that.”

“Nah, it only showed up a few minutes before you did.” Tommy studied his own hands just as intensely. With great concentration, he tried to get the swirling scarlet liquid to grow. Then, to disappear. It ignored him, and he frowned, not sure how the power worked. Wait. “WAIT! I have superpowers now?!”

The Blade squinted at the boy. “Uhhhhhh. Suuuuure?” Tommy pumped his fist in the air rather excitedly. He had to admit it was kinda cute even if he wasn’t a kid person. “Probably don’t tell anyone, alright?” he hazarded, suddenly a little worried the twerp was going to get himself nabbed immediately. This kid needed to shift away from Marvel to X-Men fast if he was going to survive.

“Yes! Like a secret identity! So you’re a superhero, right?” Tommy peered up hopefully. The crimson hitched upwards. “Right? Those guys were villains because they tried to murder me. That’s why you killed them, right?” There was almost a note of desperation to the question.

“Um. No.” The Blade pretty much murdered them because he was suddenly teleported into a hostile situation and was immediately attacked. Self-defense, baby.

The ruby power spiked then, the scent of fear sharpening. But then bull-headed determination flashed in his eyes. “A vigilante then, that makes sense. Like Batman. Hey! And now I can join you and save people too! You can be my sidekick.”

“Wait hold on, no, you’re MY sidekick, not the other way around,” The Blade argued before realizing that meant he inadvertently supported Tommy’s absurd notion. He was a survivor, he didn’t have time to be a savior. If the kid wanted to read any morality into his actions that was their problem.

“Ok. I’ll train under you until I’m too powerful and surpass you completely, and THEN you’ll be my sidekick.” For some reason, the voices didn’t feel threatened by his open intention to usurp him. Weird. For once in his life The Blade was getting zero intrusive thoughts about brutally murdering the dude he was talking to. It was kinda relaxing actually.

Tommy held out a fist, and after belated realizing it wasn’t a (very wimpy) attack The Blade completed the fist bump. Tommy beamed at The Blade. “Thanks for saving me.”

It was…strange. No one had ever thanked him for something like that before. And sure he’d really only incidentally saved the boy through a combination of weird coincidences, otherworldly machinations beyond their comprehension, and the fact something about Tommy’s power literally prevented him from even contemplating attacking him, but The Blade did have to admit it felt pretty nice.

Nice, but not the reason his tail was wagging. Nope, not at all. That was all post-bloodlust high. Definitely.

“Give me your hands.” Mum smiled as she said it, but it made trepidation build in Tommy’s gut.

Tommy fixed his smile, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, you’re so clingy. I’m not a kid anymore!”

“You’re fifteen—”

“Only for a few more weeks! I’m practically an ad-” Deviously, she lunged for his hands and he jerked back sharply. “Don’t,” he yelped a little too desperately. Tommy gulped, trying to swallow his panic. “Don’t do that I have a- have a reputation to maintain Mum, can’t be doing cheesy girly stuff like hand holding haha.”

“Tommy-” her tone was far, far too serious as he retreated.

“I’ll get a hold of it eventually, just give me some time. We’re working on it.” Tommy was a little frustrated he hadn’t figured out how to control his powers yet, but all the other guys said it took a while so that was okay. At least it didn’t work on The Blade or Philza. The same couldn’t be said for Wilbur, which was really bad. It just made him bicker with the others, which, while funny, still meant he couldn’t control the Red. Tommy didn’t know what had made it so lethal in the villain encounter, but he needed to find out before he risked getting someone hurt.

He’d find a way to use it for good, though. One way or another, Tommy was going to be a hero.

“What does your power do?”

Tommy laughed nervously. “Sorry, that’s confidential hero stuff, Mum.”

Tommy refused to tell her what happened in that room. Her baby boy witnessed -enacted?- a massacre and that wasn’t something that would ever be undone. He went in normal and came out with blood permanently fresh on his hands. All she knew was a haunted look came across him in quiet moments, and she didn’t trust the new ‘friends’ he’d made in the aftermath, and he absolutely refused to touch anyone.

She reached up carefully to avoid his hands, craning his head down till their foreheads touched. For all that she had to rise to her tiptoes to meet him, Tommy was still her little boy. He’d grown a lot in the last year, and even more so on that dreadful day his powers showed up, but she’d never stop seeing that golden-haired child with his mischievous, gaptoothed smile and dirt staining the knees of his pants.

“Just talk to me when you’re ready, okay? And if those men try anything I’ll destroy them.”

Tommy’s laugh was far brighter this time. “Mum! You wouldn’t stand a chance! Besides, The Blade and his friends are nice.”

Scruffy was the word she would use. She’d vetted them, of course, she wasn’t going to just let her son lose with complete strangers and just trust he came home safe. The Blade was intimidating, but a dork. That Wilbur fellow was just a hopelessly broke musician as far as she could tell, though had a worrisome collection of scars. She respected Philza to some degree though, since he had an ounce of manners. Hopefully, he’d keep the others in line.

“Tommy. You’re spending hours with homeless people, I have every right to be concerned.” Still, they were the only ones with any idea of how to help Tommy explore the new aspects of his identity. Unfortunately, Tommy’s mother was the supportive type, and was trying to give him room to experiment despite her reservations.

“You’re always worried though.”

She pressed a kiss into his forehead. “With a brat like you, I have to be.” He pulled a face, feathers ruffled at the utter indignity of affection. But she let gravity seep into her tone. “I know it scares you. But I know you’ll do the right thing, you’re a good kid at heart. Okay? This isn’t going to change anything.”

But it did.

Tommy had been abducted and locked in a padded room for days now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. He wanted his mum. In Tommy’s books, that was a pathetic thought for a sixteen-year-old to have, but it was true, he wanted to see his parents so bad it hurt. He wanted his friends. Or even not his friends, random people at school, hell even people he didn’t get along with so long as it was a face he recognized. Or even one he didn’t. At this point, Tommy would settle for one of the freaky scientists or soldiers just so there would be someone to talk to. Or, more accurately, shout at and demand answers from. Like, were they villains, where the hell was he, what did they want, why did they kidnap him…

And then someone finally entered the room. Or, more aptly, the guns entered before the squad of soldiers, so Tommy actually found it suddenly easy to continue saying nothing at all. His hands shot up in the air in surrender, scarlet ribbons of liquid dancing around him.

“Cease the threat display,” a guard barked.

The power only poured out further. “It doesn’t- I don’t control it, it won’t-” he was ordered to be silent. Tommy had never been good at that, but he managed, biting down questions. Doctors circled like vultures, and he had the strangest premonition shivering down his spine. He felt like a lamb being inspected for imperfections before the slaughter.

“Give me your hands.” Gloves were dropped into his outstretched palms. Thick, sturdy, and frankly pretty ugly. Tommy had no idea how deeply he’d come to despise them. In fact, Tommy had very little idea of anything, head still caught in the little stories people liked to tell. Lies about powerful heroes rescuing civilians, or good triumphing over evil, or the world caring about people like him.

“Um. What are the gloves for?”

The guard grinned. “So you can’t fight back.”

The demon was tall and slender with bright white eyes and a literal beam of a smile. He seemed nice. That was the problem, the Foundation always sent Tommy to meet the nice ones so that he could fix that.

Tommy approached cautiously, carefully weighing threats between the D-Class prisoners behind him and the towering demon ahead. Anomalies were safe at first though, and Tommy knew exactly how to protect himself now. And if he were honest, Tommy didn’t want to get to know the D-Class before their imminent execution. It only made the nightmares worse.

“Hi!” the demon chirped. “I’m Halo! Wow, I haven’t seen someone new in…” he trailed off uncertainly, a faint furrow of his brow. But he shrugged quickly enough. “A couple years I guess. Sorry, they think I’m boring. No one really pays attention to me anymore. Not violent enough to be interesting I guess. They certainly tried, though.” Tommy caught the flash of horror flickering across glowing eyes. He knew that pressure intimately given how he’d broken beneath it. Still, Tommy perked a little, not expecting the hope. A sour consolation, but neglect had to be far better than cruel attention. Maybe one day he’d be left alone too.

“I’m…” he swallowed roughly. “I’m the Instigator, I guess. I’m the newest attempt.”

“Begin threat assessment test,” came a strict voice over a com system.

At Tommy’s wince, Halo gave him a reassuring smile and a snort. “Don’t worry about that. These muffin-heads have been trying to get me to murder people for years and I’ve yet to break.” Tommy…didn’t have that kind of strength. He didn’t know how Halo had endured it.

All he knew was that was finally ending today.

“Instigator, give it your hands,” ordered the overseeing worker. He could feel the eyes of observers for all that he couldn’t see them.

“Ignore them. What’s your story?” Halo asked. “I haven’t talked to anyone in ages, what’s it like? Are you a recent capture? Do you remember the outside still?”

Tommy glanced nervously at the observation window. But he was almost just as desperate for conversation. “I’ve been here a few weeks. And. And I miss trees. It’s weird, but I miss how tall they were. Like, because that meant there was space, not these cramped cells and hallways.”

“Yes! And the sky! Oh how I miss the freedom of the sky,” he sighed, dark wings flaring out.

“Stars,” Tommy added. “Just scattered out, millions of them. And people, everywhere, and you can just talk to them and they’re nice, not like here at all. I just want to m̵̮̙͗u̷̺̦̇̀f̷̟̀̄̈́f̶̯̯̈́̍̀i̸͕̭͎̅̌n̶͔̣̭̏ing talk to someone, you know?”

“Language,” the demon chided, barbed tail lashing. “But yes. Listen, this is important, did you know a guy called Skep-”

“Give it your hands,” the human demanded. “Or you’ll be wearing gloves the next three days.”

Tommy went sheet white, rigid to the point of breaking. Halo gave him an odd look, awkward but politely sympathetic if utterly confused. He looked to the observation window. “I’m, erm, guessing that’s some type of punishment?” Tommy nodded, relieved someone understood. But of course Halo would, hadn’t held out for years against the Foundation’s demands?

It was his kindness that betrayed him. Halo bent to his level, hand outstretched. “Well alright then. Don’t want that happening of course! It’s okay, just do what they say.” He didn’t understand what was about to happen. Tommy did, though. But Tommy had made this choice before. It was easier afterwards, took a little less coercion each time once you’d crossed that threshold. He knew he was selfish, prioritizing himself over other’s lives, but once you made that choice you made it again, and again, and again.

He swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat. “I’m sorry,” Tommy shoved it out fast like that was any type of salvation. Tentatively, he reached for Halo’s talons, grasping firmly.

The executor shook hands with his weapon. Crimson seeped from their joined grasp.

Halo’s friendly smile dropped. This close, Tommy could make out the sharp fangs hidden amidst white glow. The demon stalked past to the chained prisoners, sharp words ringing out. Condemnation hissed out, giving way to shouts, to anger, to violence.

Tommy was told that the D-Class deserved it. Death row inmates, the vilest of humanity. Tommy’s arms wrapped around himself, frenzied scarlet curling around, spreading, exacerbating. Halo’s snarls gurgled through thick viscera, visceral ripping noises rending the humans apart. The Foundation said they deserved it, just like they said Tommy deserved to wear gloves when he disobeyed or get hit whenever he wouldn’t stop talking, begging, screaming. He kept his back carefully to the unfolding slaughter, eyes squeezed shut. Pretending he couldn’t hear the ragged howls of agony.

Pretending he couldn’t hear the way Halo started to sob the moment the bloodlust faded.

The air was dusty as Tommy climbed into the abandoned hayloft, clambering over to where Tubbo perched. His nose wrinkled, still unused to all the various smells of the outside world. It was still startling how much world was in the world, overwhelming at times but exhilarating always.

Tommy scooted over to sit as close to Tubbo as he dared, distance carefully calculated to keep them safe. His legs swung back and forth over the edge of the loft, his friends scattered below, happy and free.

Tubbo waved at him, looking excited. There was a strange intentionality to the gesture, exaggerated. But Tommy couldn’t blame them for that. He wasn’t a stranger to pretending everything was normal. The escape was…rough, to put it mildly, let alone the horrors of the Foundation. It felt nice to laugh even if it was a tad forced at times. But it made the next one easier, so it had to be worth it.

“Give us your hands.”

Red spasmed along his arms. Tommy leaned away, unpleasant memories flickering in his head. Given the fact that Tubbo was unique (a word which here means ‘made out of hundreds of thousands of bees’), Red didn’t work traditionally. Mostly, it resulted in pure self-destruction. Tommy shuddered to remember the way Tubbos’ skin tore apart as frenzied insects slaughtered themselves. Not something he was in a hurry to repeat.

“No, it’ll explode your hands,” Tommy said, not knowing that was exactly what Tubbo wanted.

They gave him a sweet smile, half crooked. “It’ll be fine, Tommy. We won’t get Red’d, we just want to compare our hands. Our grandpa always said big hands meant you were going to grow up to be tall, kinda like puppy paws.”

Tommy scoffed. “Well I already know I’m going to be massive, and anyway it’s not worth the risk.”

“We’ll be careful. But if you think ours are that much bigger, that’s fair. You still only have kid hands after all~”

“No! I’m basically an adult! Just…hold still, I guess…” Tommy approached cautiously, still conflicted but splaying ruby fingers out to match their own hand. The fingers shook a little from the tension poured through them, little curls of Red unfurling off the back of his hand like sprouts poking through topsoil. Tubbo slipped their own close, lining up the newly finished digits to match the angle of his. Tommy’s fingers were longer than their own, stockier, his palms broader. They hovered closer and closer, shrinking the gap. “Hah! See! I told you. Um, that’s close enough, I think.”

“We can see from a bunch more angles than you can, Tommy. We’ll know if it's too close.” He flashed a nervous smile, but trusted Tubbo. Still, it felt wrong to tempt himself like this. It took just about everything he had to not lace their fingers together and pull his best friend into a tight hug. Just…hold Tubbo, feel the buzzing warmth of life and the purr of bees working within their hollow body.

A quiet cage around his heart forbade him from ever reaching out. Tommy couldn’t touch almost anyone in the entire world. It felt near suffocating at times to yearn for something regardless of how disastrous Tommy knew the consequences would be.

It didn’t occur to Tommy that some people welcomed disaster.

Tommy’s fingers curled in slightly, unconsciously wanting to close around Tubbos’. Closer, closer, till they were almost touching…

“I’ve done some really, really awful things, Phil.” But it didn’t stop Philza’s arm from wrapping around his back and drawing Tommy in. If he were honest, he didn’t want it to. Tommy melted into the embrace for all that he didn’t deserve it.

“I know,” Philza murmured, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “That doesn’t mean you’re evil. The world isn’t heroes and villains, Tommy.”

“Okay then I’m a bad guy.” Philza rolled his eyes. “I mean with a power like this what else could I be? I’m a baddie. A wrongun. A ‘malignant, misbegotton ne’re-do-well of a knave’–” Tommy sang, rattling off the old man insults Philza sometimes fell into when he got angry and forgot what century it was.

“Stop deflecting and give me your hands,” Philza interjected. Tommy griped at him for being rude, but relented easily. Philza cupped Tommy’s hands in his own, reverent almost.

“If you’re going to try to say there isn’t really blood on my hands don’t even m̷͙̞̈͋ư̵͍̬̒͝ͅf̶̡͉̽f̶͇̬͌í̵̻͇̺n̵̛̛̠ing try it. We both know that’s a lie.” Red spasmed, tendrils looping around Philza’s talons.

“But your hands aren’t evil. They are simply hands. Red is the exact same. Power doesn’t possess its own morality, that’s up to the weilder. Your power isn’t evil, and neither are-”

“For you, maybe. Anyone else and it’s just brainwashing bloodlust.” He’d been stupid for ever thinking he could save anyone.

“You can have precautions without having terror.”

“I can’t control it. I’ve tried so, so hard, and I just can’t. All it’s done is ruin my life.”

“The Foundation did that, not the Red, and most certainly not you. Surviving doesn’t make you evil.” Philza lifted Tommy’s hand, brushing a kiss against his knuckles. “I hope one day you can find love for every part of yourself.”

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love-of-fandoms · 2 years

Note

Well, now you’ve got me hooked on the tale of Zeus and Hera’s lover Nymphie and lovesick Poseidon :D I kinda wanna throw him a bone if it’s okay to make another request?

Maybe Nymphie (that’s adorable af btw) gets into some kind of trouble with some nereids and is injured, Poseidon intervenes to prevent them from meeting a rather unpleasant, watery situation and carries them back to Olympus? (doing his level best to ignore a wet, shivering Nymphie pressed against him, he’s actually trying to be a gentlemen here, damn it Aphrodite-)

Nymphie warms up to him along the way, and once safely deposited goes to kiss Poseidon’s cheek, but (he SWEARS accidentally) moves slightly and ends up with one directly on the lips. There’s a flustered moment between them, but they kind of melt into it (Poseidon is a good kisser, okay) until Nymphie pulls away after a few heated moments, gives a flustered thanks, and darts off.

Poseidon can’t help but be a /little/ pleased that his attraction isn’t totally one-sided, but refrains from saying anything to avoid all Tartarus breaking loose-

A/N: I loved this request!! Here ya go!

Previous Parts:

The Game

The Referee

The Awkward Boner Situation

Warnings: Near death situation

It’s not your fault that Neso and Nesaie stranded you on that island. Technically, it wasn’t their fault either, for forgetting that land nymphs couldn’t traverse the sea in the blink of an eye like they could.

That no one was really to blame still didn’t change the fact that you were stranded on a very small island. You weren’t even sure if you could call it an island, more of a small grouping of boulders. There wasn’t even any soil, otherwise you would have turned into a tree to wait for someone to come by. Instead you had to debate trying to swim to land with vegetation or staying and hoping sailors would come by. Neso and Nesaie weren’t coming back that much you knew.

“Alright then,” you muttered to yourself, giving your body a quick shake before jumping into the ocean. A couple of curses escaped your mouth as you began to swim towards land. As a dryad you could always feel a pull towards the roots, urging you to rejoin them as a tree and tunnel your own roots deep into the earth. You followed this pull, knowing it would take you to the closest tree, and thus, closest patch of land.

It was just your luck that Phorkys was playing with one of his children near the surface. Or perhaps he was trying to reign in one of his children who got too close to the surface… Either way before you could process the blob underwater that was approaching you all too swiftly a giant tailfin had breached the surface just next to you, violently thrashing about in the waters. You were thrown up into the air for a terrifying moment before you hit the water again at an uncomfortable angle. You tried to swim back up, but the currents caused by the sea monster’s thrashing battered you down further and further.

Your chest hurt, and you could feel the flowers in your hair rotting and falling away. Contrary to popular beliefs, nymphs could in fact die. In fact they could die much easier than the gods, and for you… apparently drowning was all it took.

Darkness took your vision as rotted carnation and lilies danced around you, thrashed by the current in the same way your body was.

Poseidon had heard Phorkys was having trouble reigning in one of his children in the Mediterranean Sea and was on his way to contain the beast when a flash of color caught the corner of his eye. He turned to look and felt ice-cold terror strike through his heart at the site of the land-nymph he had become infatuated with. Your robe flowed around them ethereally, but rotting flowers surrounded you.

He shouted your name, by your side in an instant and he used his magic to allow you to breathe. A trick for land-dwellers to visit his kingdom that he had used on yourself and your lovers not even a month ago. He held you tight to his body, eyes narrowing. Within seconds he had broken the surface and was glaring fiercely at Phorkys, who had the gall to look sheepish.

“About time you arrived, little god!” the old Titan greeted before gesturing to his child. “Some help taking Scylla back home?” he asked, grunting as he dodged a bite from one of the beasts on her tentacles.

It took Poseidon barely a minute to get the great sea monster under control, fury and an urge to get his little land-nymph out of harm's way as quickly as possible egging him on. He didn’t even spare Phorkys a glance as the beast was dragged back beneath the surface and far into the depths. Instead within a matter of seconds he was on shore, laying you along the roots of the first tree he found and began scanning your body for injury. He called your name a couple of times, lightly tapping your cheeks. You remained unresponsive, and after a couple moments of nothing he finally remembered what happened when land dwellers drowned.

Raising a shaking hand over your chest, Poseidon felt for the sea water within and gently tugged it out. No matter how gentle he was as he manipulated his magic he couldn’t prevent the violent coughing fit that escaped you, sea water stinging your throat as it made its way up and out. All the while, Poseidon was there with a soothing hand rubbing up and down your back.

Once you coughed up the last of the seawater, you turned your head slightly to see the sea god with a kind look on his face.

“You alright?” he asked, and you grimaced.

“Well, I almost fucking drowned,” you rasped out, holding a hand to your throat at the sting speaking caused. Poseidon noticed and gently took your hand in his.

“Actually, perhaps it’s best you don’t speak,” he told you gently, and you nodded. “Let’s get you back to Olympus, shall we?” his hands hovered around you for a moment, waiting for another nod before he scooped you up and against his chest in a bridal carry. Tired beyond belief, you let your head rest against his bare chest, not at all noticing the flustered look that overtook the sea god’s face.

It only took a couple of minutes for Poseidon to propel the two of you to Olympus. He set you down in the gardens and called for one of the nymphs lounging among the irises to run and get the king and queen before turning back to you.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and you smiled sheepishly up at him.

“I-I’m alright,” you muttered, before reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. “Thank you for saving me,” you said, smile a bit wider now, and he flustered, clearing his throat and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks coloring a bit.

“Of course,” he grunted, looking around as if expecting Zeus to come around and strike him with a lightning bolt at any moment. When he looked back at you he found himself unintentionally redirecting the kiss that had been meant for his cheek. Without thinking he melted into your lips, kissing you with a fervor you were entirely unprepared for. You were entirely unprepared for the sensation of his lips against yours, for one, but the passion with which he kissed you wasn’t just unexpected it was… electrifying. You found yourself coaxed into shyly brushing your lips against his, not quite matching his passion but not at all unsettled as you might have expected. A large hand cupped the side of your face, and your hand went to wind its way into his long white locks before-

“My love!” Hera and Zeus were rushing into the garden, and Poseidon shoved himself away from you, standing far away and leaving you dazed and flushed. You blinked slowly at him, tilting your head a bit before your lovers were upon you and fussing over you.

“I’m okay,” you assured them, basking in the familiar attention of your lovers and accepting a kiss from each of them. “Poseidon saved me,”

“But what were you doing out there?” As Hera fussed over you some more, Poseidon did his best to ignore the self-satisfied look on his brother’s face as he smirked at him over your head.

It was a moment of weakness, that was all.

#blood of zeus x reader #blood of zeus #boz zeus #boz hera #boz poseidon #boz poseidon x reader #poseidon x reader #hera x reader x zeus #boz hera x reader #hera x reader #Boz zeus x reader #nymphie #requests

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bakageta · 8 months

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More AU Roulette fic! This time it's a timetravel "AU". In quotes because there's canon timetravel in the current run... but this is one of the paths King in Black Eddie takes that is chill and doesn't involve fighting other versions of himself. @kitausuret I wrote about ya boy again!

He's been in worse, more embarrassing situations.

Eddie’s trying very hard to remember that while also trying to figure out how to escape the holding cell– really just an intolerably fancy jar –that he and the symbiote he's currently timesharing with are stuck in. Unfortunately, he's not great at multitasking when he's unmoored from his body and sharing metaphorical headspace with a captive Klyntar in a time technically before Knull’s defeat.

The easy solution is to give up. Go back to his own time and hope that someone else saves the symbiote he's jarred with as well as its colony-mates. That option isn’t one he wants to go through with. Something in this lab is smothering the symbiote’s psychic cries, shunting the majority away from the cosmos and into the timestream where Eddie picked them up. Help was unlikely to come for them any time soon.

Any attempt to escape will bring pain and punishment to all of the symbiotes, the aliens who captured them had apparently never heard of the Geneva Convention. That's why Eddie and the symbiote– it needed a name –were imprisoned separately from the others: they'd nearly gotten loose.

Cautiously, Eddie poked at the bounds of the prison jar. There was a warning tingle against their surface. The symbiote, who had been nudging at Eddie’s connection back to the hivemind of his time, focused its attention back on the present.

I won’t press harder, he told it, assuming it was worried about the backlash.

Someone is coming, it told him. An agent, we were heard twice!

Oh? Interesting. A thought let Eddie know that the Agents– the Agents of the Cosmos –were a major faction of Klyntar in this time. They were far reaching, powerful, and, of course, they had their faults. He couldn’t help but be interested.

“Hello?” A harmonic voice called out as its owner walked around a wall and into the section of the lab where the Klyntar were being kept. “We heard you calling for help?” The agent was humanoid and bulky, their head and body seemed armored at first but, as Eddie looked more closely, it was only the natural density of a symbiote around a host. Their palms were stark white against the black of their body and an eerily familiar symbol was splashed across the agent’s chest.

“Here!” the klyntar Eddie was within bubbled. It sounded like a higher pitched version of his own voice. “We are here!”

“Hey, oh– wow, there’s more of you guys than I thought there’d be.” The agent came to a stop in the middle of the lab, appropriately wary of the containment units lining the walls. For a moment, they were completely still. Then, like water, the symbiote peeled away and sank into its host, Flash Thompson.

“Hope y’don’t mind my partner hanging back for now. Anyone know any access codes?” Flash grinned and cocked his head at an angle. He looked like a golden retriever. Eddie was immediately reminded of why he had asked his Flash to look after his kids while he was gone.

None of the captured symbiotes knew the codes, so Flash was forced to guess his way through the console. He mumbled under his breath the whole time. Eddie thought he might be talking to someone, though he didn’t know if Flash was talking to a teammate or to his symbiote.

The jars all released in unison without alarm and the now free Klyntar, including Eddie’s, swarmed Flash. They all signed their thanks against his skin before dissolving into questions. Who are you? How did you hear us? Why are you stealing us? Are you saving us? Where are we going?

"Woah, woah," Flash laughed at the tickling tendrils. His partner re-emerged, only a little bit defensive at the other symbiotes groping its host. "Follow us out and we'll answer everything we can."

They lead the escaped symbiotes through the corridors of the station. All of their captors were crumpled in varying states of injury on the floor.

Are you going? Eddie’s symbiote asked. It was openly curious, not eager to be rid of him or to keep him around.

Yeah, I got my own people to worry about. Flash’ll keep you safe, Eddie assured the symbiote.

Okay, it chirped. Good bye Eddie.

Back in his present, Eddie opened his eyes. It was dark in his room, not that that meant much to him. Flash was slumped asleep in Eddie's recliner, reliable and present. Eddie went to sleep with a smile on his face.

#auroulette2023 #venom #eddie brock #flash thompson #venom symbiote #space knight #my writing #not beta read

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fuck-customers · 1 year

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I’m so frustrated and tired.

This morning (like 6:10am, 12/4) I had just clocked out and gotten in my car to leave, when my coworker who had just come in called me. They said they weren’t sure if anyone else got in touch with me, but that “they” (meaning our boss) wanted to ask if I could cover for a different coworker on tonight’s shift.

I don’t mind being asked to cover, and will even usually take a shift, but what really bothered me about this is that the coworker who needed coverage, B, should have contacted me themself to ask me to cover for them. Or, if they weren’t able to do that for whatever reason, it should have been placed on my boss, C, to do that. But instead they delegated it to the morning coworker, D. And I have my own issues with D, so even though this incident was not their fault it made it worse all the same. Furthermore, getting B to help cover anybody is like pulling teeth. B and I are technically each other’s on-call backup, because we’re the only ones who work nights (and we only have the two daytime coworkers for the other days, so there’s only 4 people in my department total), but there have been plenty of times I was needing to ask everyone else, or even discuss what to do with my boss, because B refused to cover.

Anyway, for some context for the situation, during the workweek I stay with my mom and stepdad at their house because they live 5 minutes away from the hospital. On my days off I live in my own house with my dad, and our town is the next one over which is an hour away. Dad is there full time and needs me to help care for a lot of things around the house because he’s disabled. For example, he doesn’t have a car (and probably wouldn’t be able to drive safely nowadays anyway) so I have to take him to doctor appointments, physical therapy, pick up prescriptions, check the PO Box, things like that. He always has appointments on Mondays, every single week, which I have told C and our group lead a few times prior to this.

So I had initially told D that I couldn’t cover tonight because I had to pick up my groceries, drive an hour home and rest, and be able to take my dad to his appointments in the morning. They said they understood and would try to get help from others. So I get my stuff and go home and go about my morning.

I had gotten to bed around 10am. Now flash forward to 3:30pm, my dad is waking me up because my mom called him saying that my boss called her (we all work at the hospital so they know each other prior) stating that they couldn’t get a hold of me and needed me to respond to the requests for coverage.

My phone is always on silent, and I was dead asleep, so of course I didn’t know C was trying to reach me. So I ask what’s going on, C says I need to come in and cover because no one else is available. I explained the situation with my dad’s appointments, but C just went on with what felt like a passive aggressive explanation of how an on-call schedule works. Even though those rules don’t seem to apply to B, just to me. C went on to say that if I really couldn’t make it then D would have to do a 24 hour, or C would have to come help cover too.

First of all, if D really did have to take on a 24 hour shift nobody would ever hear the end of it and we’d all have to praise how great D is and how much they do. Which would be insufferable. Secondly, C is the manager so it’s literally their job to come in and cover the shift if no one else is able to! But of course they don’t want to give up their Sunday off either.

I talked to my mom about it and she said because of the on-call agreements that it is my job to come in, even though it’s unfair, and the most I can do is try to file a complaint with HR, which doesn’t seem right because then it just sounds like I’m complaining that someone is sick, which isn’t their fault. But this isn’t the first time B has done this stuff, and that was recently. I get being sick and feeling like shit, but you can’t be calling off constantly and expecting it to be fine. One of our day workers, M, comes in even when they’re sick (always wearing a mask and sanitizes the whole cubby area before they leave) because they can’t always get coverage. And I personally have chronic pain; I occasionally get really bad flare ups in certain areas, to the point where I can barely walk or move at all, and I’ve still come in to work (partially due to the fact that B refused to cover). If we can do these things while suffering then B can come in while sick too.

In any case, I came into work. I told C again about the every Monday appointments situation and they said they’d make note of it to ensure we can get better backup in the future. I’m so tired because I didn’t get a lot of sleep and then had to drive an hour back here just to work a 12 hour night shift and then go all the way back home and stay awake to take care of all my other obligations. And it’s been busy already. Not necessarily because we have so many patients, but I’ve had to run around garnering information from some, faxing things for the doctors, getting paperwork for the nurses, and walking visitors down to the floor. If one more damn person comes in at night and wants to go visit a patient I’m gonna snap.

And maybe in a week or two when B is back to work I’ll have a mysterious bout of illness and need a week off. I’ve got the PTO for it, so I can sit at home and rest and still get paid for it 🤷🏼‍♀️

The whole thing is just a bunch of nonsense. Maybe I can sneak a nap at the nurses station and just have them wake me up if a patient comes, because I really don’t feel too good about driving tired in the morning.

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 7 months

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Fireflies Over The Wall - Chapter 2

Relationship: The Bell Keeper & Meiri (Original character)

Summary: "The troll brought with herself, every night without a fault, a baby.

Every night, she placed it upon the grass, and pointed upwards, showing her baby the stars and constellations. Showing her baby the fireflies.

Holding it tight. Cuddling with it. Making sure it saw the beauty the world had to offer. He had never considered himself a sentimental man. Yet this image, for some reason, never failed to make him return home feeling something gaping and void inside of himself.

Every one of his former coworkers must have returned to their families.

Who would Edmund return to when he could work no more?

What would give him a reason to get out of bed when the fireflies were no longer enough?"

An OC's origin story as well as a Bell Keeper character study, because this character is much more fascinating than I'd been giving him credit for.

Notes: Title from ‘Enchanted’, by Taylor Swift

Chapter title: Walls of insincerity

Read it on ao3

Technically, if you were to follow all the rules, bell keepers were supposed to work their shifts without pause and then get longer periods of rest. But with the massive dismissal of keepers that had been happening, there were no longer enough of them to keep rotating their posts like they were supposed to, making it necessary for them to work two or even three shifts in sequence. The only saving grace in that situation was that, considering there wasn’t enough monitoring to keep them from having to work until they no longer felt like human beings, there was also not enough to stop them from taking breaks whenever they’d like.

What was the worst that was going to happen? A troll attack?

He had been on the job for over a decade, and he had never witnessed a single one. He couldn’t be blamed for his scepticism.

It was about eight in the evening, two hours after his shift had ended and the task had been passed over to, you guessed it, himself. But Edmund was getting hungry, so even though it was still early enough that a superior could very well pop up to check on his job, he couldn’t be arsed to care. So he climbed down from his post on one of the many ancient staircases that were hidden throughout the wall, walking towards his cabin while wondering what he could possibly get to eat. He’d been working since the early morning, so it wasn’t like he’d had time to cook for himself, and despite his lack of interest, he wasn’t incompetent; it wouldn’t be safe to leave his post for so long, even if only considering his own financial stability.

He could make a sandwich, as always. But was there even stuff to make a sandwich with at his house? He’d have to check that out. Even worse, he’d probably have to bring himself to go to the market come morning.

Not that he had any great plans for anything else to do with his free time.

The night was quiet; it usually was, around those parts. Kids showed up during the day to play, sometimes. The local scouts went near the wall for certain activities. Couples came for romantic picnics somewhere secluded. But when the sun left, so did the noise. It was just the wind on the trees, the cicadas, and his old reliable boots on the grass. No one wanted to be near their one line of defence when it was most likely to be attacked, which served him just well. He didn’t feel like being around most people either.

The air was cool and crisp in his lungs. There had been a bit of rain earlier, so the scent of wet soil still lingered pleasantly. Few lamps were installed along the wall, just enough so that he could see the outline of his cabin and the trees.

And the silhouette of something small scaling the wall.

As soon as he noticed it, his hand went inside his coat to grab the flashlight he kept with himself at all times. He didn’t instantly flash it; if it were an animal, or a magical creature, he could frighten it into attacking him. Instead, he first asked, loud enough that he could be sure he would be heard.

“Who’s there?”

Whatever it was, it didn’t answer, only stilled its movements. He then turned on his light but kept it pointing towards the ground, and began his approach in as calmly of a manner he could.

The figure was humanoid, but far too small. He wondered if it could be a nisse. He sure had never heard of elves being that big, and hadn’t gotten his hands on the proper paperwork yet, anyway. Maybe it was some sort of magic construct, one of those creatures Kaisa would tell him about and he’d pretend not to believe in so he could sleep peacefully.

Slowly, he dragged his beam of light all the way from the floor to the creature. Its gaze had been directed straight at him, so he could immediately see its face when he got there.

Ugh, even worse.

It was a child.

“Hey!” Came the impressively offended interjection, as if she wasn’t the one practically invading Trolberg City property. “Put that down, that’s not nice!”

He did as he was told, because yeah, that was fair. Nobody wanted light straight at their face. But he was also amused because her voice sounded like if she knew how to swear, he’d be hearing some very nasty words leave her mouth. He could respect that. But he didn’t budge an inch and kept lighting the lower side of the girl’s body.

Her little body was hanging on to the vines that grew over the door to his belltower, a surprising show of strength for someone who looked so young, especially since she was holding on with only one hand. He could see the other one reaching up above her head. What for, he hadn’t the slightest idea.

“What are you doing?” She didn’t answer for a good couple of seconds, but apparently decided it was something she had to do upon seeing his Patrol badge, not completely hidden by his garment.

“I’m just trying to get a sprout of Simulium philia.”

He blinked, frowned, and debated whether he was being played a prank on.

“Pardon?”

“Simulium philia. It attracts an insect, and there’s a sprout right over there.” She pointed to a spot above her head she couldn’t quite reach yet. “It’s not wrong to pick plants.”

It’s not wrong to pick plants. Not followed by an ‘is it, officer?’ or by a ‘right?’. Just stating her gods given right to scale the wall and grab a plant if she saw fit. It wasn’t like she was exactly wrong (he didn’t think so, at least. He may be from the Patrol but he only really learned the laws regarding his job), but it was still probably not what she should be doing at that moment.

He sighed, unwilling to deal with that situation. “Where are you parents, kid?”

“I’m an orphan.” She said with the bluntness and nonchalance of someone commenting on the weather.

“Well, then where is whoever is responsible for you?”

Poor person, he thought to himself in the moments of silence that followed his question. Except the moments began to stretch and stretch, and with his eyes now better adjusted he noticed that she was still looking at him, not like a deer in headlights, not like a child caught stealing cookies, but rather the way you look at an annoying coworker who just won’t stop talking and leave you alone. Clearly waiting for him to get tired and go away to leave her to her previous plans, without the slightest intention of answering that question.

Edmund let his head fall back and groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was tired and hungry and he hadn’t a drop of patience to deal with that right now. Had he been slightly less conscious, he would have just pretended he hadn’t seen the little wannabe monkey and kept on with his appealing evening of putting together something that could barely be called a sandwich and go back to his post. But, annoying or not, this was a child, alone in the middle of the night. He couldn’t in good conscience just leave her alone. And he apparently couldn’t make her cooperate either.

His decision made, he walked closer to the girl (who seemed to have gotten back to her endeavour, hoping that ignoring him would make him go away) and stood on his tiptoes in order to grab the exact sprout she’d been on the verge of reaching.

“Hey!” She sounded less distressed this time, but no less murderous. “That’s mine!”

“Nope, it’s mine now. I caught it fair and square.”

As he kept on walking towards his cabin pretending to not pay a mind to her, he heard a solid thump as she let go of the vines and landed on her feet without a single huff or squeal to indicate any struggle with the jump.

Creepy kid.

Then, just as expected, came the pitter patter of her feet behind him, having to take many more steps than he had for obvious reasons. He only stopped and looked back when he was already at his cabins’ steps and had opened his front door.

“I’m gonna get something to eat. Do you drink tea?”

She was standing much closer to him than he had calculated she would, but he kept his startlement internal. Her hands were inside the pocket of the dark green hoodie she wore, and she was glaring at him like he was one big inconvenience she did not want to deal with.

Luckily, the feeling was mutual.

“Not black.” Was all she said, through gritted teeth.

“Me neither.” What did she take him for? If he wanted something bitter and caffeinated he’d just drink coffee. “Come on.”

Although the fact that she reluctantly followed him into the cabin meant his plan had worked, it didn’t put him at ease at all; in fact, it may just make things worse. Certainly the girl had someone to teach her she should not, under any circumstances, accept to be taken by strange people into their homes?

“You can sit down if you feel like it.” He said, even though he didn’t pay enough attention to her to see if she’d done so or not. He went straight to his teapot and put it over the fire, walking then to his fridge to see what he had.

Ham and watercress and three slices of bread - what were those doing in the fridge? - and not a thing more. It would have to do.

“You want some toast, kid?” He asked because really what use would he have for exactly one slice of bread, and because he wasn’t a troglodyte. If someone is in your house, you offer them food. That’s how it goes.

He heard her scoff from behind him. “I’m not eating something you give me. I don’t know you.”

“That’s a great point you’re making right there.” He plugged his toaster on the outlet and put two slices in there. “Which brings me to the question of do you usually enter the houses of people you don’t know? You could get into big trouble, you know.”

“Obviously.” She did not seem to understand she’d been scolded. “But I want my plant. Just give it to me and I’ll go!”

Edmund turned to face her, crossing his arms and leaning against his cooking counter.

“Listen, kid- what’s yer name, actually?”

She lifted an eyebrow at him. Turns out she was still standing up; he could see her better now, in the lighting of his living room. Her skin was olive-toned, a shade darker than he’d previously thought; she had a hooked nose and very dark eyes and bags under them that looked genetic rather than a consequence of poor sleep. Her hair was just as dark and wild, although very short. He couldn’t tell if it was a result of the wind ruffling it up as she climbed or if it was just like that.

“You were just complaining about me following you here. Why should I tell you my name if I don’t know you?”

“Fair enough.” He heard his toaster go off and turned around to spread butter on the bread. “Well, how old are you?”

“Can’t you tell?”

No, he couldn’t and he rationally couldn’t see a reason why he should be able to. He hadn’t interacted with a child in more years than he could count, instances when he had to make one or another stop damaging the wall with silly games and slash or bets notwithstanding, so his knowledge of developmental milestones was admittedly lacking. Her question sounded so judgemental that he felt like he was missing important information, though. From what he had seen, she had a full set of teeth and enough anger inside of herself to make her sound like a bitter retired elderly person, so… probably older than three?

“No.” Was what he said instead shooting his shot and failing miserably.

Being in the middle of his sandwich making process, he couldn’t see her shrug.

“Then it can’t be that important.” She answered, and that told him absolutely nothing other than she was still in that fantastic age where kids remained under the impression that adults knew everything. He was far too tired for this.

The kettle rang, and he placed satchets of herbal tea inside of two mugs - the only two mugs he had, in fact - and placed them on his wooden table. Sandwich already in hand, he sat down and pretended to not be watching whether or not she’d take a seat. Feigning nonchalance was what had gotten her to follow him to begin with. And also what had made Kaisa begin talking to him all those years ago, come to think of it. Maybe it had a similar effect on grumpy girls as pstpstpsting had on cats.

His meal tasted… well, he had food, he supposed he shouldn’t be complaining. It was a wonder, with how little housekeeping he did. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to cook, or to keep things in order. It was just that doing those things only to himself felt pointless. He could live very well just keeping things clean, who was he trying to impress? There was no point in dirtying his pots and pans and having to spend hours in the kitchen just so he could have an actual dish every day. He was fine with his sandwiches and deconstructed meals.

He was still thinking about this when he heard the chair directly in front of him scratch the floor and the girl sat down. The chair being too short for her, only up until her chin was visible from over the table. Continuing to apply that same tactic, Edmund didn’t look at her as the girl picked up her mug and took a sip.

“Lemongrass?” She asked and he hummed in assent, still chewing.

“Sure you don’t want that toast?” He broke the silence they had fallen into to ask, when he was about halfway through the sandwich and she was still waiting for her tea to cool down enough to drink it properly. “See, I’m eating that same bread. It’s not poisoned.”

She was gazing around at his cabin when she answered.

“No, thank you. I already ate.”

Huh, look at that. She knew how to be polite.

Maybe it happened when she was distracted enough.

He kept eating and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. He had to go back to work (well, truly it wasn’t like he <em>had</em> to do it, the likelihood of something happening was very small, but he still wanted to keep this job) but he couldn’t just leave this random child inside his house. Which, considering she wouldn’t tell him where she came from, was looking like his only option.

“What do you do?” She asked once he was done eating and they were now both nursing their mugs, showing the first bit of interest in him since they’d met. Though it was probably just to cut through the awkward silence.

“I am a bell keeper. I stand watch on a section of the wall and I ring the bell if anything is off.”

“And have you ever had to ring it?”

“Not really.”

She grimaced mockingly. “Sounds useless.”

And, sure, that was true, but why was everyone and their mother rubbing it in his face lately?

“Well, what do you do when you’re not stealing plants, young miss?”

“I go to school.” She didn’t miss a beat. “So I don’t have to become a cop when I grow up.”

Caught unarmed, he scrambled for something to say that wasn’t an utter lie or worse, a defence of the Patrol. Even in his most desperate hour he couldn’t resort to that.

“I’m very low ranking, as far as the Patrol’s hierarchy goes. I just pay attention to what’s going on and discourage anyone who wants to go outside the wall after hours.”

She gave him a look that was all raised eyebrows and tired smugness.

“Cop.”

He rolled his eyes and sat back, defeated. “Yeah, you know what, just keep on studying, kid.”

“So I don’t end up controlling people for a job?”

“I don’t control anyone!”

“Really?” She crossed her arms to mirror his stance. “Then why are you keeping me here?”

Oh. He’d walked right into that one.

“Because I can’t let a child go walking alone at night by herself!”

“And instead I’m alone at night with a stranger. Great job!”

Letting his body slide down his chair a few inches, he groaned. Never had he wanted to go to work this badly.

“Listen, kid. I’ll give you your plant. I just need you to give me the number of whoever you live with so I can call them to come pick you up. Or if you don’t trust whoever you live with or can’t call them for whatever reason, the number of an adult you do trust. It’s a win-win situation.”

By that time, the girl was already done with her lemongrass tea. She got up from her chair and, taking him by surprise, attempted to wash it.

“Leave it be.” He told her, essentially unnecessarily since she couldn’t reach the kitchenette’s sink, anyway. “I’ll wash them both later.”

“I don’t know their numbers.” She admitted, not sounding at all regretful of the fact. Her little hands now shoved back inside the hoodie’s pocket, she began wandering around his small living room, instantly attracted by the book shelves near his front door. He couldn’t imagine a single thing there that would appeal to a child, but she seemed to read their spines with care nonetheless. Anything was possible, though. After he’d heard her in all seriousness throw a scientific name into the conversation two seconds after having met her, Ed wouldn’t be willing to bet against her or her intelligence anytime soon.

“Well, listen, I need something. I can’t leave my post for long enough to drop you off at home, and you can’t stay here until morning.”

The girl didn’t even stop looking through his collection. “You can just give me my S. philia and let me go. I know the way.”

“You could get hurt.”

“That’s not your problem.”

She didn’t sound accusing, or angry, or anything of the sort. Just slightly tired of that conversation and distracted by a book she was currently flipping through. He saw that it was his tree identification manual.

Edmund began rubbing his eyes with so much pressure that he could see purple and blue blotches behind his eyelids, in that characteristic manner we all know we’re not supposed to but still do when we’re too tired. His tea had grown cold. The girl apparently decided to sit down on his sofa and read his book. She had a point, mind you. It wasn’t his problem, and whoever was in charge of her should have either established clear rules or made sure they were implemented. Because for all that he had no clue what at what age children did what, he was certain someone as young as the child in front of him should not be going out by themselves this late.

He was beginning to seriously consider taking a sleeping mat back to his post so she could sleep while he was at work to be delivered at the end of his shift. That’s the level of clueless he was. But then something extremely rare happened.

His doorbell rang.

Edmund’s stomach dropped, his first thought being that out of all days the Patrol had chosen this one to guarantee that the keepers were all doing their jobs accordingly. The best case scenario would be a coworker having somehow noticed he wasn’t at his post and coming to ask him about it, in which case he could probably either bribe or blackmail them into not snitching on him. But then he’d still have to explain the child to them.

The reality, it turned out, was all the opposite of that.

“Good evening, sir.” Said a lithe blond man as soon as the door was opened, in what looked to Edmund like office clothing, though neither it nor the person himself were very well put together. He looked worried and out of sorts, and had the laboured breathing of someone who had been running. “Sorry for the disturbance, but would you happen to have seen a child around these parts?”

It just so happened that the spot the girl was in wasn’t one the man would be able to see from where he was standing. Intrigued, Edmund crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, further obscuring the view of the side of the house she was in.

“A child?”

“Yes, sir.” Edmund had thought he was tired. This guy, though, he looked like he was having an even worse evening. “I work at Saint Anne’s orphanage. One of our little girls escaped again today. She’s six, short black hair, was wearing her green hoodie and black leggings when she was last seen. Does that ring a bell?”

“Hold on.” He couldn’t see or hear her, but something told him she was greatly amused by the situation. At least he had gotten answers for two of his questions already. “Again? The hell do you mean ‘again’? How hard can it be to keep a kid that young from escaping?”

It was as if he had triggered war flashbacks on the younger man.

“Very.” He answered, and with the amount of feeling behind that one word, Edmund was even moved to believe him. “Meiri is a good girl, but she gets terribly bored inside the orphanage after school. So she learned how to sneak out and nothing we do seemed to stop her. In the end we stopped fighting it and just gave her instructions on how to keep safe. But she always comes back by sunset, so when we realised she was still out we began searching for her. No luck since.”

Edmund hummed, taking in that information. He then asked, without sounding like he was actually waiting for permission.

“Would you give me a minute to grab my coat? I’ll help you go looking for her.”

And then he closed the door before he could hear any arguments, which the man looked like he wanted to make.

He turned back to the girl, who was watching him, looking disinterested. He wondered if she was using his own tactic of faking it.

“Six, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.”

She let some surprise show through her face when he approached her and crouched down, so that he’d be nearer to her level, sitting on his sofa as she currently was.

“Can you go with him? Is he good to you?”

The girl seemed surprised at the question, even more surprised that he’d even ask.

“Terry? Yeah, he’s okay. He’s one of our caretakers.”

Edmund nodded and got up, taking one last look at her to guarantee that she looked like she was being sincere before turning around and going back to the counter that served as his kitchen.

“Then please go put him out of his misery. I’ll get your plant ready to go, you open the door for him.”

For a couple of seconds, the girl remained still, looking between the book, Edmund and the door repeatedly. Eventually, whatever she’d been thinking about faded away and she sighed, getting up to get the door. As soon as she’d opened it, the man let out a gasp that sounded more terrified than relieved.

“Meiri!” He tried to pick her up, but she took a step back to move away. The message was clear enough and he didn’t make another attempt. “Where have you been? We were looking for you everywhere!”

Before the girl could open her mouth, Edmund chimed in.

“My fault, pal. Saw her around on her own at night and thought there must be something off for a kid so young to be all alone after hours, so I made her come here. We were figuring out how to make contact with you people when you knocked.”

Though he didn’t see it, being too busy thoroughly washing a former pickle jar he’d emptied this morning, Meiri’s gaze locked on his back with a frown. Wondering why he’d downplay her lack of collaboration when he’d get nothing for it.

“Oh! I understand. Thank you.”

The Terry person didn’t sound too thankful, understandably so since he’d probably cost them extra time of worry and searching, but just enough that Edmund knew all was well. He then began trying to get the girl to thank him as well, which amused the bell keeper to no end, since he’d been around her for less than an entire hour and already considered it a futile endeavour. True to that impression, she’d only said ‘I won’t’ the first time she was asked to express her gratitude and remained silent as a tomb when he continued insisting.

“It’s okay, mate. She didn’t wanna come anyway.”

Edmund walked towards them with the now completely clean jar and the sprout, which he’d kept in his most spacious pocket, now inside it.

“There ya go.” He leaned down to hand it to her. “Simulation philosophy. Was it worth it?”

Just as he had expected, she glared at him something violent. But funnily enough, her eyes didn’t quite have the fire that they had before.

“Simulium philia. It was.”

“Good. Now if you excuse me, I have to go back to my post.”

He paid the caretaker no mind as the man attempted to bid a polite goodbye, instead going around the house to turn off all the lights. The man gave up when Edmund only answered with ‘yeah, sure’s, and began heading back the way he came with the little girl in tow.

After having put his house moderately to sorts and closed his front door, Edmund drew his coat’s hood over his head, ready to climb back up to his favourite spot on the wall and forget about the weird approximate half an hour he’d had. When he was about to do so, though, his feet on the front steps of his house, he saw that the two of them were still within eyesight as they walked away in the direction of the city centre. And that the girl, who immediately avoided his gaze and went back to facing forwards upon being caught, had been looking directly back at him.

He chuckled, putting his hands inside his coat’s pockets, and went back to work.

#Hooray Meiri is actually in this one!#By the way. Simulium philia is. Absolutely not a thing.#It does not exist. I made it up bc Simulium is a genre of insect (that one *does* exist)#and philia is a suffix that indicates affinity so…#made sense to give that name to a hypothetical plant that attracts that one type of insect #meiridom #fic: fotw #my fic #hilda oc #the bell keeper hilda #meiri #the bell keeper fanfiction #hilda the series fanfic

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