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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 12. Shots Fired

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I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

Everything had started so perfect.

You slept in the tent next to the infirmary in Daryl’s arms through the night and in the morning you helped the crew make breakfast. Rick had rode home to Alexandria and there was news on the walkie that food was coming from the hilltop. You grabbed food for yourself and Aaron and headed back to the infirmary.

Aaron was sitting up and talking with Daryl.

“Morning” You announced as you strode into the tent.

“Morning” Daryl said with a smile.

“I’m not looking,” Aaron joked, covering his eyes with his hand.

“Very funny,” You shoved the plate against Aaron and he took it, setting it down on his lap. “So what’s got you bothering my patient, Mr Dixon.”

“Wanted to see how he was doing before I head out for the day” Daryl spoke.

“You get breakfast yet?” You asked

“I don’t need-” Before he could finish you thrust your plate into his hands.

“Eat up. You’ll need it” You said turning back and leaving the tent to get yourself a new plate.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em” Aaron said through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah” Daryl said, getting into his food.

“How’d you meet?” Aaron pressed. Daryl glanced at him in question. “C’mon everyone’s heard how she appeared from thin air and you jumped to her defence.”

“Ya make it sound like a fairy tale” Daryl commented.

“It is.” Aaron replied. Aaron took a bite of some bread and kept staring at Daryl “C’mon you can tell me.”

Daryl thought back on it for a moment. ‘I tried to kill her’ he thought. Now he couldn’t think of hurting you. “Before the winter, me, Tara, and Rick went into DC. I got hurt. We had to camp for the night in this bank.” Daryl spoke through his food. “She walked in, started pulling the place apart. We said stop. She seen I was hurt and offered to help me.” He lost interest in his food for a moment, thinking back to that little apartment in DC that you had fixed up and made a home for yourself. “She was starving. I couldn’t sit by and do nothing, not after she helped me. At first I just brought her the surplus but she insisted on giving me stuff in return. ‘Not gonna leave you short’ she said.” Daryl stopped when he realised how long he had been talking about you, and the soft look Aaron had listening to him. Daryl went back to his food “Can’t let good people suffer”

“She is good.” Aaron spoke, “You should have brought her home sooner.”

“I tried. She wouldn’t come.” Daryl put down his now empty plate. “She don’t like camps or nothin’”

“So she was somewhere bad before” Aaron mused

“She deserves something good.” Daryl spoke “We all do.”

A sudden unrest erupted outside the tent. Daryl got onto his feet and went to investigate, finding the camp filled with angry saviours

“Guess they're gonna execute every last one of us!” a man yelled out “Just like Justin!”

“Not if we have guns, too.” a women called out

“Hey, hey, you guys!” Laura was in the middle of the crowd trying to calm people. “No no no no! No!”

“Come on guys!” Arat yelled trying to make herself heard.

“Hey knock it off!” You yelled from the front of the group trying to calm them down.

All the calls fell on deaf ears and you found yourself trying to push saviours and members of the other community away from each other. Aldin quickly made a dent in the condensing crowd.

“Hey! Hey! Stop this shit! Stop it! Stop it!” He yelled, the two sides coming apart around him “We're gonna find out who did this, and we're gonna make sure it never happens to us again, all right?”

“Us?” Jed stood out from the crowd of saviours. “You're not one of us anymore.”

“‘Us’ means all of us” Aldin spoke, turning his back on the saviours to speak to the rest. Jed immediately grabbed Aldin, spinned him around and punched”

“Go shovel that horse shit to whoever killed Justin!” He pulled back his fist to go for another hit when Carol stepped in front of him, hand on his chest to stop him and the other on her gun ready to pull it out. You felt yourself hold your breath. “I thought you were supposed to be our leader.” he remarked.

“Enough” Carol spoke firm. “Turn around, all of you.”

“No can do, Cee.” He replied, “Why don't you go ahead and yank that roscoe, pop me right here? It's better than worrying about getting it in the back.”

At that Carol pulled out her gun, as did the others standing behind her. You stepped forward and put yourself between the man and Carol.

“There’s no need for that.” You said, hands up defensively.

“We don't want this.” Laura spoke, rallying to your side. “Hey, we just need to protect ourselves.”

“No guns!” Dary yelled. Everyone turned to look at him standing on top of a hill looking over everything that was happening.

“That 'cause you're the one took out Justin?” DJ yelled out. He was a saviour with long hair and a beard.

“Nah.” Another saviour said lower, eyeing up a woman near the front of the opposing crowd. “My money's on garbage lady.”

“Revenge for Simon's play, sure.” Regina said, stirring more trouble.

“No.” DJ replied, not taking his eyes off Daryl. “It's him. Finishing what he started.” He stepped past you and towards a tree, picking up the axe that sat there. Another man followed after him. A woman went to walk past you to them but you put your hand against her chest, whispering “Don’t” in the most intimidating voice you could muster, making her fall back into line.

Arat ran up and step in front of DJ “Hey, stop. It's gonna go too far.”

“Nah.” Daryl spoke “It won't.” He raised his crossbow and pointed it at DJ. You felt your breath catch in your lungs. You had seen how dangerous Daryl was with that bow and weren’t interested in being at it’s business end.

“Maybe it's both of them. Come on.” The long haired man rallied the saviours around him. You tried to hold them back but you were quickly pushed to the back of the group and landed on the ground. The saviours moved forward with only the priest meeting them halfway, ready for the fight. In the last moment Rick came riding in on horseback and the crowd divided.

“Everyone back off! Right now!” He yelled from atop the animal, waving his revolver over the crowd. Arat moved to disarm one of the saviours and Laura took to the martyr.

“All right, we are not doing this.” She spoke firm to Jed then brought her attention to the wider crowd. “Let it go.”

“I'll talk to Rick.” You heard Aldin speak “I'll try and find a way to make everybody feel safe, all right?” The crowd slowly dispersed.

“Start the redirect.” Rick ordered. “Pair off to work the grid.”

In the moments past you pulled yourself off the ground and started dusting yourself off. Laura came to you and pat your back.

“Thanks for trying to hold them back.” She said, Arat arriving behind her shortly after.

“Didn’t help much.” You replied

“No, it helped.” Arat insisted. “These hot heads need to see more of us working with the others.” Arat let out a sigh, then leaned in close to you “If they knew who you were-” she spoke low.

“No.” You interrupted. “They won’t trust me. Someone needs to be on good terms.”

“They got Aldin for that,” Laura commented. “He’s been playing goodie two shoes since the war.”

“Enough gossip,” Arat said. “Boss says the grid needs work. Later.” She patted your back as she took off.

“What’s on your plate?” Laura asked you.

“Get Aaron on the first trip back to Alexandria. He’s just filling a bed here. You?”

Laura looked around at the grumbling saviours, waving to a small group. “Keeping the peace.” You nodded in acknowledgement and you two parted silently.

After setting Aaron up with a small group that would be journeying back and his bed had been cleared you set out looking for Daryl. He had gotten riled up and you wanted to see how he was. A hilltop man pointed you in the direction he’d taken off in.

When you found him he was talking to Rick. Or rather Rick was talking to him.

“Daryl, I know you don't agree with everything we're doing here. All I ask is that you try. Do it. Let people see it. And maybe everyone moves past what's happened to what could happen and maybe, just maybe, it'd be one of the best decisions you ever made.”

“Like not killing a guy who left your brother on a rooftop to die.” Rick walked past you with a nod. He looked so tired yet determined. You walked up to Daryl, who seemed to be caught a little off guard.

“How much of that did you hear?” He asked nervously.

“About the tail end of what seemed like a speech, if I’m honest.” You stood in front of him, gently placing your hands to his face to make him look at you. “How are you?”

“I didn’t do it,” he uttered, resting a hand atop of yours.

“I know you didn’t.” You reassured him. His arms came around you so naturally and your hands rested on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry you were in the middle of all that.” he continued, low enough that only you heard. “This crap ain’t your problem.”

“It is now.” you said. “‘Sides, your not the first boyfriend to hold a weapon on me.” You chuckled. He paled drastically.

“I am so sor-” you cut him off with a kiss. He held you as close as he could as he kissed you back. You pulled back and smiled at him sweetly.

“We’ll have plenty of time for sorry later. You have grid work to do”

“Wish I didn’t” he said pulling you into him, making you giggle at the implications.

“Go,” you laughed, punctuating it with a kiss and coming away. “I’ll be here”

Daryl left with the group to check the grid and you returned to camp. Being the doctor everyone wanted you nearby at all times. You mainly cleaned up the areas, helped with food, tended to the occasional cut or burn. You found it all delightfully mundane. It was nearing sunset when Enid showed her face.

“You’re late for work.” You said mockingly.

“Sorry” Enid apologised with a yawning, appearing from the tent next to the infirmary. It was promoted from ‘Saddiq’s Tent’ to ‘Doctor’s Tent’ as you and Enid started working in shifts. “I’m not used to the night shifts yet.”

That made you smirk “Hopefully you never have too” You teased with a laugh. She looked away embarrassed. You patted the spot next to you on the boards the infirmary was built on. “Sit down. We’re not exactly burdened with work.”

“What’re ya doing?” Enid sat down next to you, her leg tucked under her.

“People watching.” You explained. “Me and my old man used to do it all the time.”

Enid looked out at the campsite, “Seems kinda dull,”

“You’re doing it wrong then.” You said then pointed to Regina, a female saviour helping unload a recent delivery. “What do you think her deal is?”

“She’s a saviour” Enid spoke plainly. “Who’s unloading tomatoes”

“Nah, nah.” You leaned back on your elbows “You’re not meant to think about the truth. You’re meant to come up with a story of some kind.”

“A story?” Enid questioned. “Sounds childish”

“That’s what makes it fun.” You reply. You pointed at a table of people playing cards. “What about them. What’s their deal?”

“They’re playing cards.” Enid spoke plainly. So it was up to you to make things interesting.

“Ya see the girl with short hair and the tank top?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Madam De Tank.” You spoke in a theatrical voice, “She owns most of the land and she’s put it on the table against the guy in the chequer.”

“What’s his name?” Enid pressed

“You tell me.” You shot back

She thought for a moment “Joey...Banks”

“Okay.” you said tongue in cheek. “What’s he put on the table?” Enid sat in silence a moment, then turned to you with a childish smile.

“His first born child!” She announced, equally theatrical. You both chuckled at the absurdity. Laura appeared, dirty from work.

“What’s all the fun?” She asked, taking a seat next to Enid.

“People watching.” Enid replied. “The third guy?”

“That’s Joey Banks’ assistant. He does all the things Joey doesn’t want to do. Like open doors or hold his cup.” You jested

“I hate to break this up but we need to talk.” Laura said to you. Enid went to excuse herself but you sat up and beckoned her to stay.

“Anything you gotta say to me, you can say to Enid.” You said. ‘Because you approached me in front of here and we need to keep a low profile’ you thought.

Laura looked from you to Enid and backed to you, a little unsure. “It’s the saviours,” she ultimately said. “We can’t find Arat.”

You sat forward and turned your body to face Laura, tucking your leg in, “What do you mean? She’s out checking the grids”

“The grid team came back.-”

“Where are they?” You interrupted. Afterall, Daryl and Arat were with the grid team.

“They left again, all quiet like.” Laura explained.

“They’re probably doing the night watch.” Enid interjected. You backed her up, saying it would be logical.

“That’s what I was saying but,” Laura explained then went quiet for a moment. “They think something might have happened. There’s talk of abandoning camp.”

“You can’t do that!” Enid panicked.

“They’re scared, Enid.” You said, her attention flicking back to you. “We have no guns and saviours have been going missing for a month now. At least at sanctuary there’s walls and they know each other.” You looked to Laura seriously “But that’s all we have. There’s no food. No real security and most of the building has been abandoned. It’s a prison.” The last sentence rolled off your tongue before you realised it, but it was no less the truth. “We need this bridge”

“I know,” Laura sighed. “I’m tryna talk to them but…”

The tension hung tight in the air among the three of you. “Sunset’s beautiful” Enid finally broke the silence. You looked over the trees seeing the warm hues sink behind them.

As the last few rays dimmed you stood up. “Guess we just gotta hope.” You said, sounding helpless. You turned to Enid in that moment. “Enid, umm...maybe”

“Not a word,” Enid stood up as the dinner bell rang. “I know.”

“Let’s eat!” Laura announced as she stood up. “I heard we got fresh tomatoes tonight.”

Later that evening Carol and Rick brought back a stabbed man who you stitched up. When questioned how it happened the man gave no reply. You stitched him up in silence then Rick took him out. You stopped Carol before she could leave, pressing for what had happened.

Carol turned back to you. It was just the two of you in the tent and you’d already developed a history together. She sighed through her nose before speaking. “We got jumped. They wanted our guns and were ready to kill us to get them,”

“Maybe if you gave them a couple-” you began

“That’s not happening now.” Carol replied. She turned to leave again and you grabbed her by the arm to stop her.

“Why were you out there?” you questioned. You released her arm once she stopped. “You’re not on night watch and checking the grid doesn’t take all day.”

“Why do you care?” Carol questioned, seeming already tired of the conversation. This did little but anger you.

“Cause these are our people!” You bit back “Remember?”

Carol nodded solemnly. “You know?”

“There’s suspicion.” You explained. “I just wanna know whether or not it’s founded.”

“Arat is missing” Carol finally said. You stepped back, struggling to process this information. You turned away and leaned on a nearby table, your head reeling. “She and Beatrice got jumped and we’re looking for her.”

This was it. The saviours were going to abandon camp. A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have cared but between working in the sanctuary and working out here you’re heart broke. If they left then the deal would be broken and everyone would suffer. But something didn’t sit right though

“Who’s Beatrice?” You asked.

“She’s from Oceanside.” Carol replied.

“And she was fine? When you found her” You asked.

“Yes. Why?” Carol asked, stepping closer to you.

“It’s weird.” You admit, facing Carol. “All the other saviours went missing all together. The first one who isn’t a saviour is left perfectly fine?”

“A lot happened before you showed up, Y/N.” Carol explained. Sounded like pure excuses to you. Through out the entire conversation she had been staring at you with feigned worry, making your blood boil.

“Get out.” You snapped. “I need you out.” Your voice trembled, showing your upset.

That night you could hardly sleep, your mind was reeling. ‘How did dad deal with this bullshit’ you thought to yourself. You quickly stopped that train of thought when you remembered ‘murder’ was the answer.

That morning you were woken by one of the saviours. “C’mon Doc, we’re leaving!” She shook you. You groggily got out of your bed and went to investigate. Outside was the saviours, with half the camp packed up. You locked eyes with Laura across the camp who just shook her head with defeat.

Jed walked up to you and handed you an empty rucksack. “Grab your shit we’re leaving” he said.

“No,” You replied, pushing the bag back. “I’m not.”

Jed looked at you incredulously, then threw the bag to the ground with temper. “You’re gonna stand by these fucking murderers!”

‘Look who’s talking’ you thought to yourself. “We need this deal, Jed!” You yelled back. “We need the food that the other settlements can provide!” Your yelling caught the attention of a couple of saviours. “I ain’t going back to The Sanctuary until that bridge is done!”

Jed pulled a face then spat at your feet. “Suit yourself.” He retorted then left. In about twenty minutes they had all packed up and were marching out.

~Tag List~

@felicismor @bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

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kelyon · 3 years

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Nephila Chapter 5: Everglades

The fic where the Stiltskin men are all giant spiders (and some people are into that.)

In which Emma Swan is Florida Woman

Trigger warning: Killian Jones

Read on AO3

“Parks department is gonna shoot us with their tranquilizer guns if they catch us out here, Swan.”

Emma rolled her eyes at Killian and kept steering her fishing boat through the swamp. This section of the glades was tricky to navigate. She couldn’t let his whining distract her.

They were in a flat-bottomed aluminum jon boat, ten feet long. It didn’t have a built-in engine. Normally Emma used a paddle to get her where she needed to go on the water. Since her plans today were taking her further out than normal, she had “borrowed” a portable Evinrude motor from her friend Penny. It would be fine though; Penny’s boat just got impounded, so she wasn’t gonna miss the motor.

“I never said you had to come, Jones.” She shielded her eyes from the bright Florida sun. Her glasses were dirty and scratched. The reflection on the water doubled the light and made it impossible to see. She shoulda brought a visor.

“No, you just said you were going to do something dangerous and stupid.” Killian lounged against the side of the boat and used both hands to swat at bugs. “You know I can’t resist a challenge.”

“Of course not. That’s why you keep hanging around me, even though I don’t wanna bang you.”

“You mean you don’t want to bang me yet!” He gave her the grin that had worked on every other girl in the tri-county area. “I remain hopeful.”

“You remain delusional.”

Every once in a while, Emma thought about sleeping with Killian just so he would get over it and stop bothering her. He was decent company when he wasn’t horny. He was the only person in their group who would go on crazy adventures with her, and he never minded letting her crash at his place. They’d gotten each other in and out of trouble at least a hundred times since she’d moved to Florida during her freshman year of high school.

That was part of the problem with Killian. She’d known him too long. When they’d met, he’d been zitty and awkward, tagging along after his older brother Liam. Killian hadn’t gotten hot until senior year when he started growing a beard. All that shaggy dark hair brought out his bright blue eyes and covered up his acne. He wasn’t bad looking. And he was almost smart. Growing up on a houseboat made him act like he knew everything about every kind of boat, so he was never afraid to act like a drunk pirate. A lot of girls were into that.

For herself, Emma had heard his voice crack too many times to ever think about him as a sexual option. And yet, ever since graduation, she had found herself at the top of his “to-do list.” It was putting a real strain on their friendship.

“Oh, come on, luv! You know I’ll do anything for you. But if I’m gonna get a hand bit off by a crocodile, I’d feel better about it if I knew there was gonna be some kind of reward for my trouble.”

“Sex isn’t a reward, dumbass.” Hand on the tiller of the motor, Emma steered them around a patch of sawgrass and into a free-flowing slough where the water could carry them. “And besides, there aren’t any crocodiles in Florida. It’s all gators. I only lived here five years and even I know that!”

“Ha!” Killian pointed a triumphant finger at her. “Well, I’ve lived on these waters all my life! And I know that the American Crocodile is the only crocodile that co-exists with alligators. It’s an endangered species and it only lives here in the Everglades!”

She narrowed her eyes. “You just heard that on the Internet.”

Killian shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Emma shook her head. Whether or not Killian should believe something he read on the Internet was an argument they had at least once a week. Going over it again wasn’t worth it.

“Point is,” she said. “We’re going to the part of the glades where there aren’t any gators or crocodiles.”

Killian made a face. “There’s no such place.”

“There sure is!”

He still didn’t believe her. “How do you know gators aren’t there?”

“Cuz there’s too much other stuff. There’s a billion more birds and bugs and lizards in this part of the swamp than there is anywhere else.”

“In the whole Everglades?”

“Yeah. I read an article about it. On the Internet.”

If Killian wanted to give her crap about her news source, he was going to have one hell of an argument. But he had just enough brains not to, so Emma got to explain.

“The article had all these science people talking about the ‘explosion of biodiversity’ in this one tiny section of the Glades. It’s probably been going on for a while, but they just noticed it a couple months ago. All the animals and things that you find one of in any other part of the Glades, you’ll find ten of ‘em in this part we’re going to now.”

“With all the animals there, why aren’t there any gators snapping them up?”

“That’s what the scientists wanted to know. They said it makes sense that there’s more little things crawling around when there aren’t any big things to eat ‘em. But it doesn’t make sense that all the gators, the ‘apex predators,’ just disappeared. They think something is killing the gators but letting everything else go. They’re real worried about it too. So I figure there might be some kinda reward for finding out what’s going on.”

“A reward?” Killian sat up so fast the boat rocked. “You didn’t say anything about a reward!”

“I just did,” Emma smirked. “But we gotta keep it secret. I don’t want anybody trying to edge in on our find.”

“Wait, what are you trying to find?”

“Didn’t you hear a word I said? I’m going to find whatever’s eating the gators!”

Killian’s jaw dropped. “Are you crazy? You think there’s something big enough to eat gators and the first thing you wanna do is go after it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Emma turned back to the tiller. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and unlocked the screen. The article she’d read had a dinky little drawing of a map where all the strange activity was going on. Emma had compared it to the real map on Google and taken a screenshot of where she wanted to go. They should be close.

Killian was still freaking out. At least he was smart enough not to move so much that it would tip the boat over. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Swan?”

“I told you I was gonna do something stupid and dangerous.”

“You know it’s probably just snakes, right? Them pythons people get as pets, then they get too big and people let ‘em loose in the swamp and they eat everything. My buddy Kaa had to do that once.”

“If it was just a bunch of snakes, the science people wouldn’t be so weirded out about it. It’s something they can’t explain.”

“For all you know it could be a giant fucking monster! Did you bring a gun or something? You know McLeach is good to hook us up.”

Emma shook her head. “This is just a fact-finding mission. I don’t need a gun, I’ve got this.” She held up a digital camera in a plastic zipper bag. “I told Hat Man the whole story and he let me use this to take pictures.”

Killian ran his hand over his face. “Of course he did. Hat Man is the only other person in all of Florida who’s as crazy as you!”

Emma threw up her hands. “There are lots of people who do dumber stuff than me or Hat Man ever tried!”

“Yeah, but none of them ever did something that’s gonna get me killed! I swear, Swan--”

“Would the two of you please shut up?” Some guy’s voice rang out over the water. “You’re bothering the monster!”

Emma cut the motor and stood up. The jon boat wobbled but steadied itself after a second. Pushing up her glasses, she scanned around the water. She couldn’t spot any other boats around all the sawgrass patches.

“Who the hell are you?” she shouted. “And how the fuck do you know about the monster?”

The voice chuckled. “Lady, I know more about monsters than you know about your own parents.”

Emma clenched her jaw and muttered. “You don’t know shit about my parents, jackass.”

Sitting on the bench seat closest to the front of the boat, Killian put his head in his hands. “Let’s get out of here, Swan. Whoever this asshole is, the gator-eater can go eat him.”

“The gator-eater can eat this guy, just so long as I get a picture.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “Where are you? Can you see anything?”

“I’ve got so many eyes, I can see everything.” The voice wasn’t shouting anymore. It sounded close. Emma hadn’t heard a motor running. Was this guy in a canoe? This far out away from the shore?

Her head spun as she looked around, but she didn’t see anything besides sawgrass and dead tree limbs and a million birds and bugs. There was an extra glare on the water around here, some kinda gold light coming off the patches of land.

“Where are you?” she asked again.

“Over here.”

A head popped out of the nearest patch of sawgrass. This patch had the most of the weird light, so much gold it barely looked green at all. Squinting, she tried to see who she was looking at.

At first, Emma thought it was just a normal guy with a tan. Then she thought the guy had some killer tattoos, maybe jail tats. There were dark brown circles all over his face. Then, the circles blinked at her. Then the guy smiled--and his mouth was green. No, that was not a human mouth. He had fangs. He had pincers.

“Oh, Jesus,” Emma whispered.

She couldn’t move. This was the thing she was looking for, but she couldn’t move. The camera was right by her feet. Her phone was in her back pocket. The boat tiller was less than a foot away from her hand. But she couldn’t move.

From up on his mound of sawgrass, the guy--the thing, the monster--was still smiling. He waved at her.

Somehow, she could wave back.

Sitting down, Killian hadn’t seen what Emma was looking at. “Do you see him?” he asked as he stood up. “I wanna get a good look at our competit--holy shit!”

Everything happened at once. Emma could only think of things in freeze-frame. She saw one second of Killian panicking. One second of him falling over backwards into the water. One second of him toppling the whole boat on his way down. One second of Hat Man’s camera in its ziploc bag flying into the air.

One second of the water coming closer as she fell.

The water wasn’t deep--just deep enough that she didn’t hit her head on the ground. Her glasses almost flew up off her face, but she grabbed them just in time. Spitting and sputtering, Emma managed to get to her feet in the soft mud. This time of year was the dry season, so when she stood up, the water only came up to her chest. But that didn’t mean much for the phone in her pants pocket. By the time she thought to raise it up over her head, it was already soaked.

“Shit,” she swore. “You owe me a new phone, monster-guy!”

At least Hat Man’s camera was in a waterproof bag. But from where she was, six inches above the water’s surface, there was no way she was going to find it.

“Shit!” Emma swore again. “And if I don’t get that fucking camera back, you are gonna be in huge trouble!”

Laughter rang out over the swamp. It wasn’t Killian. It had to be the guy. That monster jackass was laughing at her!

“This isn’t fucking funny!” she shouted.

The thing kept laughing. “Yes it is. I mean, come on, lady. You gotta admit this is classic comedy.”

She could not believe this. She’d gone out on the water to find a monster, found out it was a smart-ass jerk, and then lost any way to prove it to anybody! That wasn’t funny, it was…

Okay, it was pretty funny. But she still had every right to be mad about it!

“Killian, can you believe this sh--” Emma stopped when she realized she had no idea where Killian was. She couldn’t see him or the boat. He hadn’t said anything since he had seen the monster. There were a million sounds coming from a million animals, but none of them sounded like a grown man swimming.

Or drowning.

“Shit!” The third time Emma said that word, it was with bone-deep dread. Her mouth went dry and for a second she panicked. God, Killian could not be dead. She would get in so much trouble!

“Hey, asshole!” she shouted as she began to wade towards the gold-covered island. “You with the eyes and the sense of humor!”

“Call me Neal!” the monster shouted back. He sounded like he was trying to be friendly.

Emma’s mouth dropped open, but then she closed it before a bug could fly in. Where did a monster get off having a name like Neal? She shook her head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was Killian.

“Okay, Neal. Sure. Listen, Neal, I need your help. I know I talked a lot of shit to you, but this is serious. Can you see my friend?”

“You mean the wannabe bad boy? Yeah, he’s getting eaten by crocodiles.”

“WHAT?” Emma shrieked.

“Nope. That was a joke. Bad taste, I guess. Actually, he looks fine. He was able to get the boat flipped over and he is motoring off to the horizon.”

“WHAT?” Now Emma was in a full-on bellow. Over the sound of blood pounding in her ears, she could hear the faint whine of an Evinrude outboard motor. “That son of a bitch stole my boat!”

Now that she knew Killian wasn’t dead, she was fully prepared to kill him. She staggered to the island that was covered in a haze of gold--it looked like a bunch of fancy spider webs, but that was the least of her concerns.

“Are you around here?” she yelled. “Neal?”

The same head and arms emerged from the grassy water. Up close, the face looked even weirder. There was a circle of brown eyes, all different sizes and all dark as buttons. She couldn’t tell if there was a nose or not. And the mouth was way too wide and way too fangy, especially when it looked like it was smiling. There were… things on either side of his smile, bright, shiny green things, a part of his mouth, she guessed.

Weirdest of all, over the monster’s human-looking chest and arms, he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. It was green, with yellow flowers.

“My father always told me to help a human in need. What can I do for you?”

Right now, Emma was too angry to be confused. “Can you swim?”

Neal raised himself up a little higher out of the sawgrass and Emma saw what the rest of him looked like.

It was one of those half-man, half-horse things she’d seen in movies. Centaurs, that’s what they were called. Only it wasn’t a horse that Neal was half of. Too many legs for that. He was light brown and gray, so he blended in with all the mud and sticks. His legs looked kinda stubby, and they all came out of one place in front of… Emma didn’t have any other word for it but spider-butt.

Sweet Jesus’ birthday. The gator-eater was a goddamned spider-man!

Neal didn’t talk for a second. Emma figured he was letting her get used to him. But that was gonna take a while and Killian the rat bastard was getting further away by the second. Emma put her hands on her hips and looked this thing in its two biggest eyes.

“Did you hear what I said? Can you swim?”

“I’ve got so many legs, I can swim anywhere. You want me to catch up with your boat and teach that guy a lesson?”

“Hell no. I want you to take me to my boat so I can give that son of a bitch a black eye myself.”

Neal snorted--or maybe it was a snort. He sounded like he thought it was funny. “I can do that.” He smiled and lowered his spider-legs so his whole body was near the ground. “You wanna climb aboard?”

Emma wasn’t afraid to ride on the back of a spider-thing through the Everglades. She’d been riding jet-skis since she was ten. This couldn’t be that different. It’d probably be easier, since Neal would be able to do all the steering himself.

He was already mostly in the water, so she just kind of fell on top of him, with her legs on either side of his… Was it a waist? The lower part of his human half.

Short, prickly hairs grew all over the spider half. They came out when she moved her legs against them. Emma was glad she had decided to wear full pants today instead of shorts.

“Okay.” She grabbed the Hawaiian shirt with both hands and tugged. “Giddy-up.”

Neal tensed up and for a minute he didn’t say anything. Then he turned his head to talk to her. “What’s your name?”

“Emma,” she said. Oh crap, was he mad?

“Okay, Emma, listen up. I’m going to help you get your boat, because I am a helpful kind of individual. But if you ever treat me like an animal again, you will be swimming home. Understand?”

“Oh.” Emma let go of his shirt. “Crap, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. I’m sure you’re not used to people like me. Now, let’s go retrieve some stolen property!”

Neal had four legs on either side, but he only used the front three to swim. His back legs dragged through the water to balance him out like a dead man’s float. The other legs pushed past the water, all working together. It almost looked like a bird flapping its wings against the wind. Was that what a butterfly stroke looked like? Or was this just a spider stroke?

All that mattered was that Neal was fast. And he knew this area better than Killian did. They caught up to him when he was trying to push his way through an area too shallow for the jon boat.

“Hey!” Emma shouted. “Are you fucking running my boat aground?”

She was too far away to see the expression on Killian’s face. All Emma saw was him looking at the tiller, looking up at her shouting at him from the back of a swimming spider, then looking at the motor again, frantically pulling at the line to get it started.

“Stop doing that, you’re gonna flood it!” Emma shouted again. Killian stopped, and she leaned forward to talk to Neal. “You can take it easy if you want. He’s not going anywhere.”

Chuckling, Neal reduced his speed. The strokes through the water were slower now, but they felt more powerful.

Now that she knew she’d be getting her boat back, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She leaned back on her hands against the spider-butt and rested in the sun.

Neal must have noticed. “You enjoying the ride?”

Emma nodded, but then realized that he couldn’t see her. “I figured I been on these glades every way you could be except over ‘em in a helicopter. Never thought I’d get to see ‘em on the back of a spider.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah.”

They were getting closer to Killian. His freaking out kept getting louder, probably because he could see Neal in better detail. Or maybe because he knew Emma was going to beat seven kinds of crap out of him for stealing her boat and running away without her.

“He is such a dingus,” she muttered.

Neal chuckled again. “Listen,” he said. “If you ever wanna… find me again, I’ll try not to scare you next time.”

“Now that I know you, I don’t think you could scare me,” Emma said proudly. “But I might not be able to get out here again for a while. I’ll have to do a little hustle to get another phone. Plus, I gotta tell Hat Man I lost his camera. He might want me to pay for that too, so my weekends are probably gonna be booked.”

“Oh.” Was she crazy or did he sound disappointed?

They were within spitting distance of Killian now. It was a weird thing, but Emma almost didn’t want to stop swimming with Neal.

“Here’s your boyfriend,” he said as he swam up to the boat.

Killian’s terror had gotten to the stage where he was huddled in the furthest corner of the boat, white faced and wide eyed. Over and over he whispered, “What the fuck?”

Crawling off Neal’s back, Emma scrambled into her boat. Yep, Killian the pirate had run a ten-foot fishing boat into the only section of the Everglades that jutted up over the water. It was a miracle there wasn’t any damage to the hull that would make them take on water.

Neal was already swimming away, but Emma called out. “Don’t leave yet!”

He spun around. Was she crazy or had his eyes lit up?

“Can you do me another favor? Can you pull us away from this sandbar?”

Nodding, Neal grabbed the boat with his human hands. His hands and arms were the same weird color as his spider parts, kind of a muddy brown. The Hawaiian shirt covered his shoulders, but his chest was bare. Emma could see the muscles in his forearms. He looked… strong.

He swam out to a slough with the boat in tow. Killian looked like he was going to throw up.

“Thanks,” Emma said when Neal let go. She wanted to say more, but she didn’t know what.

“No problem,” he answered.

Treading water, all of Neal’s legs pumped like he was riding eight different unicycles. He bobbed up and down like a jellyfish. Emma got the feeling that he wanted to say more too.

“Jesus Christ,” Killian moaned. “Swan, can we please go home?”

“Now you be nice to Emma, okay dingus?” Neal swam around to that side of the boat. With his human hand, he reached up and ruffled Killian’s hair. “I bet if she wasn’t such a nice person, she’d push you out of the boat and leave you here with me.”

“Jesus Christ!” Killian squealed. He crawled backwards away from Neal like a panicked rat.

Emma tried not to laugh at her friend. She needed to get him home before he started crying. She started the engine and began to motor away.

“Thanks again, Neal,” she waved. “I’ll see you around!”

He waved back. “I hope so.”

****

Even when they got back to shore, Killian was still spooked. Emma had to talk him through every step of docking, even though they’d both done it a million times. At least they were able to sneak the Evinrude back into Penny's garage without getting caught. That was about the only thing that had gone right all day.

When they got back to the houseboat he lived in with his brother Liam, she plopped him down at his kitchen table. She put a cold beer in his hands and started to fry up some hot dogs for lunch.

He just stared at the bottle. “What was that, Swan?” he asked. “What the fuck was that thing?”

Standing in front of the two-burner stove, Emma shrugged. “He says his name is Neal.”

“‘He’?” Killian repeated. His head fell into his hands. “‘He says.’ He talks? Swan, this is insane!”

“Sure is.” Secretly, Emma was glad Killian was freaking out. It meant she didn’t have to. She could be the reasonable one in the face of all this fucked up shit.

They ate lunch in silence. Emma hated the taste of beer, but there was a hard lemonade in the fridge and she helped herself. Once they were done eating, Emma threw away the bottles and the paper plates. Killian and Liam never asked her to clean up for them, but she knew that if she didn’t, the garbage would stay on the table for the better part of a month.

“I gotta go see Hat Man,” she announced. “Better tell him now what happened to his camera.”

“I’m coming with you,” Killian said with more life than he had put into anything for the past hour. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Emma nodded, and they started walking.

****

Geoffrey “Hat Man” Jefferson was the closest thing to an adult that either Emma or Killian trusted. He told them once that his family used to be rich, that a hundred years ago finding feathers for hats in the Everglades was a big business. His great-grandparents bought a lot of land and built a big fancy house on the water. Hat Man still owned the land, and he still wore fancy hats. But the big house had gotten flooded so many times no one could live there anymore. Now he lived in a trailer and spent most of his time getting high on magic mushrooms.

He was a pretty chill guy. Emma didn’t think he would get mad about the camera, but that just made her feel worse about losing it. Hat Man had done her a favor and she had fucked it up.

Story of her life.

When they got to the trailer, Emma and Killian found Hat Man and the usual group in the front yard by the road. It looked like they had taken the dining room table from the big house and set it up outside. All their friends were sitting in the dining room chairs, drinking from China teacups and saucers. Margot and Tilly were holding hands and singing to themselves. McLeach was drinking tea with his pinky up and his rifle slung over the back of his chair.

The table was set with all kinds of pretty platters and bowls--though the menu seemed to be made up of whatever could be snuck out of a gas station convenience store. A red-headed kid named Oliver held out a crystal serving dish of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos to Dodger, who was using a pair of silver tongs to place them, one by one, on his plate. The lace tablecloth fluttered in the breeze and got tangled in the tall grass.

If these were Emma and Killian’s friends, maybe they weren’t actually good judges of what was or was not crazy.

Hat Man noticed them, and raised his teacup in greeting. “Salutations!” he called. “Far-flung comrades, come back to join us in the fold!”

Everyone at the table looked at them. Without anyone saying anything, they all moved around and adjusted their chairs so Emma and Killian could both have seats. Killian found refuge between McLeach and a girl named Vixie--though Vixie seemed a lot more interested in Todd. Todd was a new guy to the group, and had never lived away from his momma before getting dumped here.

Emma sat down next to Hat Man, who handed her a three-level cookie tray loaded with Ding Dongs.

“How mellifluous to see you on this fair day, Mademoiselle Swan! To what honor do I owe the occasion?”

Today Hat Man was wearing black tuxedo pants and a silk purple vest with no shirt underneath. The brim of his battered top hat shadowed his eyes, so Emma couldn’t see exactly how blasted out he was. It appeared to be a lot.

“Actually…” Nervously, Emma fiddled with her glasses until Hat Man, very gently, pulled them off her face and placed them into a glass pitcher of blue slurpee.

“You see better when you don’t have stuff in front of your eyes,” he explained.

“That’s true,” Tilly nodded from across the table. Unlike everyone else at the table, Tilly had drugs that she should be taking, but wasn’t.

Emma actually saw much worse without her glasses, but that wasn’t anything worth caring about now. Even without them on, she still kept touching her face.

“Hat Man, do you remember the digital camera you let me borrow?”

“I recall it with the utmost vividity!” he said. His mouth was full of a burrito that appeared to still be frozen.

“Well, I’m super sorry but, it’s gone.”

He patted at his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Desiccation and decay is the way of all flesh, Emmy-wemmy. And all the goods we horde will crumble into dust or be swallowed by the somnambulatory sea.” He took off his hat and solemnly placed it over his heart. “Adieu, O photographic device of mine! May your memory be a blessing unto the next generation.”

The only other person paying attention was Tilly. She had tears in her eyes as she nodded along with what Hat Man was saying.

“So you’re not mad?” Emma said.

“Very mad, but not at all angry.” Jefferson took a burnt Pizza Roll off a silver platter, threw it into the air and caught it in his mouth. “What happened to it, anyway?”

“I…” she didn’t know how to start. “I wanna say you’re not gonna believe this, but I think you’re the only person who will.”

In hushed tones, she told him the whole story. The news article, the missing alligators, the island of gold thread--Neal. Hat Man listened politely, nodded and asked questions, but in the end he shook his head and said that the whole thing was poppycock.

“What?” Emma said. “But I saw the whole thing! And Killian was there, you can ask him!”

“Don’t be farcical,” Hat Man took a sip of… well, it was in a teacup, but it probably wasn’t tea. “How on earth could such a creature get here from Australia?”

Emma frowned. “I didn’t say anything about Australia.”

“Indubitably,” he said. Emma had no idea what he meant by that. “But Australia is the only place where I’ve ever witnessed such a creature before.”

#nephila #swanfire #Belle and Rumple will be back soon #ouat

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earlysunsetsoverambrose · 4 years

Text

Operation Sweet Surprise (2/3)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader (Romantic or Platonic)

Warnings: Cursing

Inside the store, you began hunting down the items you needed with Lester in tow. He offered to hold the basket for you so you could focus on making sure you got exactly what you were after.

“Okay, Lester. We need: milk, pie crust, vanilla extract, cinnamon, brown sugar, baking powder, and eight apples. So, if you see anything and I don’t just toss it in the basket!” you told him as your eyes started scanning the shelves.

“Yes, ma’am!” Lester said with a playful salute.

One by one, you found each ingredient, checking them off your mental list as you went. Throughout your expedition, you couldn’t help but notice other shoppers keeping their distance from you two. Of course, you knew exactly why they were acting this way. The smell of roadkill lingering on Lester’s raggedy exterior offended their delicate senses. The way some made a show of holding their breath or how their side eyes were more like dead on stares was not lost on you. It certainly wasn’t lost on Lester. With every murmur and scoff, he would offer an apologetic smile and a wave, but you could see his head sink lower and lower each time. This sort of thing didn’t always bother him, but sometimes it was hard to ignore. People always assumed he was oblivious to how his presence affected them, but he was more than aware. Frankly, he wished they would quit reminding him. Though every part of you wanted to snap at each shopper that passed you by, you elected to focus on lifting Lester’s spirits to distract him,

“Alright, all that’s left is to pick out some apples! C’mon and help me out!” you said with the biggest smile you could muster. You’d rather be glaring daggers, but you knew the other shoppers were hardly worth it. You took Lester’s hand and pulled him toward the small produce section “Which kind of apples do you think Bo would like best?”

“Not sure…” Lester said looking back and forth, checking to make sure no one was staring again, “Maybe I oughta wait in the truck. Don’t wanna bother no one else from their shopping.”

“No, don’t go! I need you!” you begged, “Besides, who cares what they think?”

“Well, I’m used to it. Just don’t want ‘em thinkin’ bad of ya, is all.” He said shyly

“Oh, please, don’t worry about that. I like spending time with you, Lester. I don’t give a shit about any of them. Who needs them?” You said, waving off his concern with a laugh “Now, help me pick out some apples.” The smile reached Lester’s eyes this time as he helped you pick out the best apples out of the bunch.

Once you had your apples picked, something caught your glance over Lester’s shoulder. It was an elderly woman, reaching for a box of cereal that was clearly too high on the shelf for her to get. Lester followed your eyes and immediately handed the basket over to you. He quickly made his way over to the lady. You followed close behind, catching the interaction,

“I can get that for ya, if ya like.” Lester offered sweetly with his signature grin. The woman staggered back, affronted at his proximity. She put a hand over her nose and mouth, her sour expression still apparent. Though she scowled at him, Lester kept smiling back at her. When she remained silent, he pointed to the box he thought she wanted, “This one? Good choice! Ya know, I hear this one’s good for the heart. Supposed to keep ya young and spry.” She didn’t reply, tapping her foot impatiently. He pulled the box down from the shelf and held it out to her, “There ya go. Need help with anythin’ else?”

“No.” she said shortly, as she ripped the box from his hands and turned away.

“Alright…have a nice day, I guess.” Lester said, frustration showing through, “Just tryin’ to help ya.”

“Excuse me!” You piped in, “My friend just helped you, and I think you’re being incredibly rude to him.”

“Y/N, it’s alright-”

“No, it isn’t. You helped her and she treated you like garbage.” You said angrily. You were tired of watching people walk all over him. He might’ve been good enough to let it go, but you weren’t, “Who raised you? Didn’t anyone teach you anything about kindness?”

“How dare you speak to me like that? You should learn to respect your elders, young lady.” the old woman finally responded, “In my day, helping older folks was expected. Our generation didn’t need a pat on the back every time we did the bare minimum. What do you want? A reward?”

“Well, I grew up at least saying a ‘thank you’ when someone helped me. I don’t think that’s asking a lot. Just want you to treat my friend with a bit of decency.” You snapped, your knuckles turning white as you tightened your grip on your basket.

“Decency? I’ve shown plenty of decency by not demanding you both be thrown out of the store. I don’t usually tolerate uncivilized spoiled brats, like you two.” The woman stuck up her nose and pinched it, “You reek of squalor, so it seems to me you were the ones who are lacking an upbringing.”

“Uncivilized? Lady, you’re the one who doesn’t have any god damn manners! If anyone’s acting uncivilized here, it’s you!” you hissed venomously, taking a step toward the woman. Lester stopped you in your tracks, allowing the woman to turn and shamble away cursing you under her breath, both offended and threatened by you.

“Hey, hey, don’t pay any attention to her. She ain’t worth it.” Lester said, patting your shoulder.

“She shouldn’t be allowed to treat you like that.” You said still a bit heated.

“It’s like ya said, ‘Who needs ‘em?’” Lester said surprisingly relaxed about the whole situation, “But let’s get goin’ ‘fore she gets us kicked out like she said.”

You started toward the register and got in line. There were quite a few people ahead of you as everyone was out getting their groceries for the week, no doubt. Lester took the basket back as you waited together. You were about to ask him about cleaning animal bones to lighten the mood before he chimed in first,

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“For what?” you asked with a tilt of your head.

“Stickin’ up for me ‘n all. It sure was somethin’.” He said with a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks, “I know I don’t smell too great, so bein’ with me ain’t always fun. But ya never treat me any worse for it, and it means a lot.”

“Aw, Lester, you don’t have to thank me for that. I enjoy spending time with you, it’s hardly a chore.” You said as you rubbed his shoulder reassuringly.

“Still…I know I yammer on and I don’t know when to shut up. Most people can’t stand me, it ain’t a secret. Didn’t make too many friends growin’ up ‘cuz of it and it didn’t get any easier once I started workin’…” Lester explained, “I tried to keep the smell off, but it’s harder than it looks, ya know. And after a while, I figured if people don’t want anythin’ to do with me anyway, I might as well just leave it be.”

“Lester…” you said sympathetically, trying not to knock the basket out of his hands and wrap him up in a hug and protect him from the world.

“’Sides, I love my job. I really do. And if I smell, I can make like that’s the reason people don’t like me.” He added with a half-hearted laugh to take the edge off the truth of it all “Anyway, just wanted to thank ya for bein’ nice to me.”

Before you could respond, it was your turn to check out. Lester instantly starting chatting away with the cashier, going on about knives and the small items for sale at the register. You smiled to yourself, watching him. Even if others continued to put him down, Lester always got right back to it. You had no idea how he kept going sometimes. You attention was drawn away from him as the total came up on the screen.

“Shit.” You cursed quietly to yourself. You counted your money back, hoping maybe you had more than you thought, to no avail. You were five dollars short. You looked over your items trying decide what you could part with. All of them were necessary to the recipe so you not only could you not decide, you were embarrassed that you had underestimated how much you’d need to spend.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Lester whispered as he leaned in, also looking at the groceries, “Missin’ somethin’?”

“I don’t have enough…” you trailed off, trying to work through a solution in the next two minutes, trying not to keep others waiting whilst also not drawing attention to your crisis

“Apples?” Lester suggested, “I’ll run on back and get some more, if ya need!”

“Money…I don’t have enough for everything.” You said, unable to stop your voice from shaking from the sudden tears that brimmed in your eyes. Lester snapped to attention at the tremble in your voice.

“Aw, please don’t cry! How much do ya need?” he asked as he scrambled to comfort you. He rubbed awkward circles into your back, moving you back and forth with his clumsy motions. Even in distress, you found his gesture to be sweet.

“Five dollars.” You confessed as your face went hot with anxiety.

“That ain’t so bad! I got it!” Lester said happily, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a crumpled bill. He might have said it like wasn’t a big deal, but you knew money was always tight for the Sinclairs. While Lester did make the most steady income out of all of them, he didn’t have a whole lot of money to throw around, “See, don’t need to panic!”

“You don’t have to do this! You work hard for your money, I can ditch something, I think. Don’t waste it on me.” You said in a panic. You’d already asked so much of him already; you couldn’t let him do this too.

“Well, I do work hard. So, I suppose that means I can spend my money how I want.” Lester said cheekily. He gathered up your money with his and handed it over, “And I wanna give it to ya. ‘Sides, I oughta pitch somethin’ in. It’s for my brothers after all.”

“Thank you, Lester…I really owe you.” you said as your apprehension drained from your posture and voice. You almost cried from his generosity, rather than humiliation.

“Ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” Lester said sweetly, nudging your shoulder to help you shake off the sadness that had almost overtaken you. He carried your groceries toward the door and back to the truck, “C’mon we gotta lotta bakin’ to do!”

You were a bit distracted on the ride back. Lester was chattering on about skulls again, but your mind wandered back to what he said while you waited in line. You wouldn’t say you’d done anything extraordinary for him. All you did was talk to him and treat him like any human should be treated. Still, that was more than he’d ever received from anyone. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Beside you was a man who has always been treated like he wasn’t worth the time. No one cared about what he had to say or how he felt, and they told him so to his face. Despite all that, he still turned out to be incredibly generous, kind, helpful, and by far the most warmhearted person you knew.

And it wasn’t because the insults and the neglect went over his head. You knew he felt the sting of it all. It was because he kept moving along. You had no idea how he was able to let it all roll off his back, but you simply attributed it to Lester being remarkable. Sure, he got disappointed when others didn’t want to talk to him, but he never got too hung up on it for long. He was always able to find joy in other parts of his life. Not only that, he was capable of sharing that joy with others; at least, he was always willing. Lester had a heart of gold and it left a bitter taste knowing that if life had been fairer – or society more kind – he’d might have become something truly special. Not that you didn’t like him just as he was; you thought he was wonderful. It was just such a shame that he had so many wonderful things to offer and you were the only one who could see that. All because his chances were spoiled before he ever really got to living.

“Do you ever get mad, Lester?” you asked, accidentally cutting him off from his rant about knives.

“Sure, I do. Sometimes.” Lester said with a goofy grin still pulling as his face. His smile turned into curiosity and a bit of confusion as he thought over your question a second time, “Wait, mad ‘bout what?”

“I don’t know. Do you ever wish things were different?”

“Different how?”

“Like, do you ever think about what it might’ve been like if you were born somewhere else or into a different life entirely? Like all the what ifs and maybes? Just for fun?” you added

“Hmmm…” Lester thought out loud, “Nope.”

“Really? Never?” you asked in disbelief.

“Naw, I like what I got.” He said smiling once again, never more content, “And ‘sides, I got you now. Wouldn’t know ya if I was born someplace else. Don’t wanna go riskin’ that, do I?” you felt your heart skip a beat and blood rush to your cheeks.

“And they say Bo’s the one with all the charm.” You mumbled to yourself, catching a glimpse of Lester, oblivious and carefree as ever. He really had no clue how incredible he was.

#lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #my writing #operation sweet surprise #tw: cursing #female reader

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infinitevariety · 3 years

Text

May Your Days Be Merry

Having never been able to celebrate previously, Aziraphale and Crowley decide to embrace the festive season and make the most of their first December together since the world didn’t end.

Chapter Five: Shepherd (AO3)

One of Aziraphale’s Christmas figurines looks awfully familiar to Crowley.

The day is bright and clear as Crowley makes his way towards the bookshop. He has a peppermint flavour white hot chocolate in one hand and nothing in the other, having been daring enough to order nothing for himself. His shirt is black, but just as he’d left his flat he’d thrown on an emerald green scarf.

He enters the bookshop with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step, then quickly quells them lest Aziraphale see.

“Angel?” calls Crowley when he doesn’t immediately spot Aziraphale.

There is no response. As he unwinds his scarf and throws it onto the coat stand by the door, Crowley wonders where Aziraphale is. Probably caught up in a book, oblivious to the outside world, or out buying sushi. Either way, Crowley will wait for Aziraphale to find him in his own time.

Crowley drifts over to one of the bookshelves, taking a closer look at the tacky Christmas figurines he hadn’t bothered doing anything with yesterday. There is a teddy bear with a Santa hat on and a large present between its legs. A blue car with a Christmas tree strapped to its roof. A snowman with a top hat and carrot nose. A shiny red boot overflowing with candy canes. A penguin wrapped up in a purple scarf and gloves. A robin sitting on top of a post box.

Dozens upon dozens of them, filling every nook and cranny on the shelves. No two the same, as far as Crowley has seen so far. He wonders where Aziraphale got them all.

One particular figurine catches Crowley’s eye and his brows draw together as he leans in closer. It shows a shepherd, crook in hand and a sheep at his feet. It stands out from the rest as being far more traditional and religious, but more than that—Crowley is almost sure he recognises it. He stares at the small shepherd, racking his brain for where he could’ve seen it before.

Crowley is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of humming. He follows the sound to find Aziraphale, sitting primly at his desk with a pen in his hand. The tune he’s humming is decidedly festive.

“Aziraphale,” says Crowley. “Have you been here the whole time?”

When he gets to response, Crowley approaches and taps Aziraphale on the shoulder. Aziraphale jumps slightly and pulls wires from his ears. The sound of a piano and singing can now be heard, faint and tinny, from the end of his earphones.

“Crowley, hello! How long have you been here?” Aziraphale leans back to look around Crowley, as if might have caused some kind of chaos in the shop while left unattended. Which is fair, actually.

“Not long. Got you this.” Crowley puts the candy cane flavour hot chocolate on Aziraphale’s desk. “Are you listening to Christmas music on an MP3 player?”

“Oh, thank you!” Aziraphale takes a sip of the drink and oohs delightedly. “I’m afraid I don’t know what an em pee three is, but the lovely ladies at the charity shop up the road sold me this personal cassette tape player and several cassettes, including this one called Now That’s What I Call Christmas. I don’t know, or particularly like, every song, but there are several I’m familiar with. I’m having a fantastic time listening to them while I write my Christmas cards!”

Crowley’s gaping and he struggles to find words. “Why?” he gets out.

“Well, you weren’t a big fan of the Christmas music I was playing the other day, so I wanted a way to listen to it myself, without inflicting it on you.”

“You weren’t inflicting it on me, angel. I just wasn’t prepared at the time, and then… you know, it’s fine. You can listen to Christmas music however you want, don’t mind me.” The pang Crowley feels is quickly becoming a familiar sensation and he doesn’t want to analyse why or what it means. He looks away, up at the baubles hanging above Aziraphale’s desk.

“Are you okay, my dear?” asks Aziraphale as he stands from his desk and reaches out to Crowley.

When Aziraphale’s hand touches his shoulder, Crowley snaps out of his shock.

“Shepherd,” he blurts, suddenly desperate to change the subject.

Aziraphale frowns. “Excuse me?”

“The shepherd. Over there.” Crowley motions over his shoulder towards the bookcases.

“What, er.” Aziraphale clears his throat. “What about it?”

“I’ve seen it before.”

“Well, there must be thousands of porcelain shepherds in the world. You’ve probably seen dozens of them.”

Crowley narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “No.” He turns and walks back to the figurine on the shelf. “I don’t come across a lot of these in my day-to-day. They’re kind of niche.”

“I don’t know what you mean, they’re ten a penny. I see them everywhere, especially at this time of year.”

“Yes, that’s it!” says Crowley, slapping a hand to his thigh in triumph. “I’ve seen this little fella in the small nativity scene they have set up at the fence of the church up the road.”

“I don’t think— I mean, really— I’m sure it’s just—” Aziraphale blusters.

“You stole it!” Crowley’s eyes go wide and he can’t keep the glee from his voice.

Aziraphale’s mouth clamps shut and looks at Crowley with pleading eyes.

“You did. You stole a shepherd from the church nativity display. Hang on—” Crowley closes his eyes for a moment, trying to picture the wooden box full of porcelain figures he’s passed every day since the start of December. His eyes snap open. “—You’ve moved things around in there too, haven’t you? There are sheep eating out of the manger and baby Jesus is on the floor. The wise men are standing at the back, behind the other two shepherds, animals, and the angel.”

Aziraphale huffs, then lets loose. “There were only ever two shepherds, Crowley—I know because I was there! I gave them the bloody message. But so often nativity scenes have three of them, why? To be even with the magi? They only got that number right because of the stupid gifts. And they didn’t put the baby in a manger—the animals were still eating from it! As for the wise men—they weren’t wise at all. They were late, and therefore relegated to the back. I wasn’t about to give up my spot for three idiots who got lost following a star!”

When he’s finishes, Aziraphale takes a deep breath and lets out a large, heavy sigh. Crowley bites his lip and tries not to laugh.

“And you go around fixing nativity scenes often, do you?” asks Crowley, voice singing with amusement. “Get involved in the local school’s amateur dramatics, telling five year olds where to stand and firing one of the shepherds?”

“Of course not, that would be ridiculous.”

“That would be ridiculous?” asks Crowley before pointedly turning to look at the pilfered shepherd.

“I pass that nativity scene every day on my way to that wonderful French bakery for their croissants… it bothers me.”

Crowley can’t hold back any more. He looks at Aziraphale, indignation writ across his face. He imagines him leaning over the wrought iron fence of the church yard to reach the box containing the figurines, shuffling them about and pocketing one of the shepherds. He laughs.

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #ace ineffable husbands #ineffably festive #fic: may your days be merry #2020 advent ficlet challenge #i wrote this

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dakotacrisis · 4 years

Text

Deal’s End (5)

Paris and desires are burning this day

(Read on AO3)

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“Up and at em, love.” Felix smacked Marinette awake with a pillow. “Time for school.”

“Since when are you excited to go to school?” Marinette chucked the pillow back at him.

“How about you get up and stop questioning me? We got work to do and a boy’s bed to get you into!”

“Once again, I am only fifteen!” Marinette dropped out of bed.

“Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” Marinette tried to speak but Felix cut across her, “And don’t bother lying, you’re hotter than a desert for him.”

“Surprised you didn’t say hot as hell.” Marinette smirked as she went to get dressed.

“Honestly, it isn’t that hot unless you’re at the burning fields.” Felix caught the night shirt she tossed over the screen, “The whole place is more humid than anything which I think is almost worst. It is warm but it is also moist...I do not miss it.”

“Sounds gross.” Marinette emerged from behind the screen now dressed. “I’m gonna grab some breakfast, want me to sneak you anything?”

“A croissant.”

“Nutella to go with it?”

“Always.”

“Got it.” Marinette walked downstairs and ate her breakfast with her family. She smothered a croissant in nutella for Felix and walked out of the house. Felix followed shortly behind munching happily on his food.

“You know, if you just knocked on the front door you could come and eat breakfast with us. My parents never object to another mouth to feed.”

“Nah. This is fine.” Felix jammed the rest of the croissant in his mouth.

As soon as they stepped outside Marinette shrugged off her cardigan. “Nothing I love more than a late spring heat wave. Why is it so hot today?”

“Global warming?” Felix shrugged. They walked into class and it seemed everyone else was feeling the heat despite the air conditioning. Marinette pulled up the forecast and saw that it now predicted a heatwave for the next couple of days before dropping back down to normal temperatures. Looks like sundress season was coming sooner than they thought.

They sat down for class and Ms. Bustier started the lesson by announcing a project. They would be focusing on temptation in literature. Particularly, they were to focus on the classic literary theme of temptation: knowledge, desire and chaos used as a foil to innocence and youth. Such examples being the biblical creation myth, the greek Hades and Persephone myth, Christina Rosetti’s Goblin Market, and Spencer’s The Faerie Queen.

Marinette couldn’t help the look she sent Felix who was pleasantly listening to the assignment. Why did she have the itching feeling he may have dabbled with the lesson plan?

“We’ll be doing these in pairs.” Ms. Bustier pulled out a list, “Alya and Kim. Sabrina and Max. Chloe and Alix. Nino and Ivan. Mylene and Rose. Adrien and Marinette. Juleka and Nathaneal.”

Adrien and Marinette! They were paired?! What miracle was responsible for…

Her glee died down as she cast another glance back at Felix. He gave her a subtle thumbs up.

When she turned back around Adrien was watching her with a smile. “Looks like we’re partners.”

“Yeah, so it seems.” She smiled back.

After explaining the rest of the project Ms. Bustier let them get together to start working. Felix stood off to the side unperturbed by the busy students around him. The teacher hadn’t called his name during the pairings. How could she forget to slot him somewhere? Or more likely that was just more of his powers to influence the world around him so he didn’t need to do any actual work. Now that Marinette thought about it she never saw Felix do any assignments but he always turned in homework. Was he miracling his way through the class? What a cheater!

“I’m rather excited about this project.” Adrien took the vacant seat next to Marinette. “It’s so different from what we usually cover in class.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She forced a laugh. They went over the project and created an outline before the bell signaled the end of class. It was a short day so they only had a few more classes before everyone departed the school.

Marinette pinched Felix’s arm as they left. “Did you have something to do with the lesson plan today?”

“Who? Me?” Felix feigned innocence, “What makes you think that I would ever do something like that?”

“The exploration of temptation in period literature? You want me to believe that it was one big coincidence?”

“I gotta have some fun. Also, I worked hard enough creating that lesson plan last night while you were up in your room doodling. I was gonna see some fruition with it!”

“Wait, you actually created the project? You didn’t just put the idea in the teacher’s head?”

“I am a rather smart demon with an affinity for literature. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“Felix, the demonic teacher. It sounds like the plot of an anime.”

Marinette was in a happy mood as she ascended the steps up to her room. Maybe she could even work up the courage to text Adrien.

“Whatcha doing?” Felix peered over her shoulder.

“Trying to think of something normal to text Adrien.” She sighed, “You’re my wingman, help me.”

“Got it.” he took the phone out of her hands and turned it off.

“Felix! Why did you do that?” She gaped at him. “I’m finally taking some initiative to be social with my crush and you do this?”

“It’s too soon. You want him to text you first.”

“But--”

“Ah ah ah!” he shushed her, “You asked for my help and you are going to get it and respect my choices. Trust me. It’ll all work out.”

“I hope for your sake it does.”

“Ooh, scary lady.” He tapped the fan and turned it on. “Hmm, I have an idea in the works. I’ll come back to you.”

“Are you actually going to inform me about the plan this time?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you that part one involves you inviting mister perfect over here to work on your project tomorrow.”

“Alright, that shouldn’t be too hard. We do need to work on it after all. What’s part two?”

“Still working on that. But you need to make sure to leave at least a ten minute gap between when you get home and when he comes over.”

“Why?”

“Again, still a work in progress. Just make sure it gets done.”

“Okay.”

The next day after classes concluded Marinette did as Felix instructed and invited Adrien over to her house to study.

“Sounds good.” Adrien nodded. “I need to stop by my house first though. That okay?”

“Perfect. Drop by when you’re done.” There. Adrien was coming over and she had some time to kill before he did.

While Marinette was trusting that whatever Felix was planning was going to help she couldn’t help but add a little something to the afternoon. She had mentioned to her parents she was going to bring Adrien over to the house to study and requested that they make them a special snack. They knew how she felt about him so they were only too eager to help in any way they could.

After school let out and Marinette went back to the bakery she picked up the box her dad had prepared and went upstairs.

“What’s in the box?” Felix asked trying to open it. “Did you order something special for me for being such a great wingman?”

“You wish.” Marinette held the box out of his reach. “These are passion fruit eclairs with italian meringue that I asked my parents to make special since passion fruit is Adrien’s favorite flavor. So keep your hands off them!”

“That’s not fair! Just one!” He reached again.

“Back off devil boy!” She unlocked the apartment door. “If there are any leftover you can--oh my god why is it so hot in here?!”

“Hoo, yeah, it is definitely toasty in here.” Felix pulled on his collar. “I knew it was gonna be warm but damn this is better than I could have imagined.”

“You would like this.” Marinette set the box in the fridge to keep cool. “Remind you of home?”

“Vaguely. But this is all part of the plan.”

“Plan? Wait, did you turn off the air conditioning?” Marinette sneered. “Felix! It is a billion degrees in here!”

“I know, which is why you should change into something more comfortable.” He handed her a stack of clothes he wasn’t holding before.

“Are you dressing me now?” Marinette looked at the outfit choice. A pair of shorts and a crop top. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“I cannot wear this in front of him!” She threw the shirt at him. “Also, when were you in my closet?”

“That’s not important. What is important is that you go get dressed. Adrien may be here any minute.”

“I am not putting this on!”

“Listen, a little primal attraction can help turn the tide of emotion. At the very least seeing you in that outfit should put some saucy thoughts in his head which is a step of getting you out of the friend-zone.”

“It seems dirty though.”

“It’s not like I’m telling you to lounge on the couch in your birthday suit while smooth jazz plays. It is literally just a peek of flesh. Also, you two kept making those food puns yesterday so he’ll appreciate the shirt.”

“All This & Dim Sum.” Marinette sighed as she looked at the cute little cartoon of dim sum. “Fine. I’ll wear it. But I swear if this backfires I am going to invest in a holy water spray bottle.”

Despite her better judgement Marinette changed into the outfit. It was more of something she’d wear around the house by herself. Not for what was essentially a study date. Hopefully Adrien didn’t think it was too weird.

“Now that’s much better.” Felix smiled when she reappeared. “Looking hot, love!”

“Yeah, it’s a million degrees in here!” Marinette grabbed a glass of water.

“That not what I--nevermind.” Felix was looking a little feverish himself.

A knock on the door startled them both. “Lover boy is here.” Felix walked up to Marinette’s room. “Good luck, hot stuff.”

Marinette shook her head. He was so weird. She took a deep breath and braced herself as she opened the door. “Hey Adrien, glad you could come over.”

His gaze raked over her none too subtly and she noticed him visibly gulp. “Me too.” His voice broke and Marinette tried not to laugh. “Ahem, I mean uh…it’s kinda hot in here isn’t it?”

“The air conditioning broke. Poor timing for it too.” She shrugged. “But once you get used to it it isn’t that bad.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Adrien stepped inside. They set up on the couch to work and Marinette grabbed them both something cold to drink so they weren’t dying of heat stroke.

Things were going well enough and they were getting a lot of work done. The only problem was that Adrien was intentionally avoiding looking directly at her the entire time. She knew it! This outfit was uncomfortable for the both of them.

“What are you doing?” Felix popped up next to her out of nowhere.

She yelped and bumped into Adrien. “Something wrong?” Adrien asked. He looked at where Marinette was staring but saw nothing.

“Uh nothing, sorry, thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye.” She laughed it off. She glared back at Felix after Adrien looked away. ‘What?’ she mouthed.

“Make a move already.” Felix said, “It has been painful watching you two dance around each other like this.”

She gave him another look as if to say, ‘What do you want me to do?’

“Put this,” he grabbed her hand, “here.” He placed it on Adrien’s thigh.

Oh god...what had he done? Adrien looked over at her with wide eyes. She couldn’t look away and curse Felix out for doing this. She’d look insane. Not that she didn’t look insane right now with her hand still on Adrien’s thigh and nothing to say! Felix put her in this mess and wasn’t helping her get out of it.

“Uh,” she removed her hand, “Would you like a snack?” Her voice was at least three times too high to be normal.

“Oh, um, sure.” His face was impossibly red.

“Cool.” Marinette darted from the couch to grab the eclairs out of the fridge. She passed Felix and shot him a dirty look. He was gonna get an earful later.

She plopped back down on the couch with the box in her lap. “Here,” she opened it, “They’re passion fruit.”

“Really?” Adrien shifted so he could get a closer look. Their legs were touching! “Passion fruit is my favorite.”

“I know.” Marinette smiled nervously. Adrien looked her back in the face with a smile that matched her own.

“I didn’t say anything earlier but that is a cute shirt.” Adrien pointed, “Did you make that?”

“This? Oh no, I bought it at this little boutique. Half the clothes in there have puns of some sort on them.”

“Sounds like my kind shop.” Adrien laughed.

“Yeah, if you want crop tops or bodysuits.” She grabbed an eclair.

“You...uh...you shop there often?” Adrien mumbled between bites.

“Why you wanna know? Want to see if I have matching booty shorts?” She teased.

Adrien’s face caught fire once again. Where had that come from? Felix was still in the corner and gave her a double thumbs up. She was hanging around this demon too much. He was rubbing off on her. She never would have dared say something so cheeky before.

Felix disappeared again and Marinette decided to cool off with the flirting.

They finished their work early and Marinette walked Adrien to the door. “Sorry about the heat.” She apologized, “But at least we finished the project.”

“Yeah.” Adrien looked her over one more time. “Hopefully next time I’m over the A/C will be working.”

Marinette’s heart leapt at the thought of him coming over again. “Yeah, totally,” She grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school then.”

“See you.” Adrien opened the front door and ran into Felix who was waiting on the other side. “Oops, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Felix shrugged and strolled inside. “It is a sauna in here! What were you two crazy kids getting up to?”

“Our project.” Marinette flicked the side of his head. “What are you doing here?”

“I was informed there was food.” Felix eyed the box of leftover eclairs. He grabbed it before looking back at Marinette. “Looks like the pastries aren’t the only snack in here. Looking good, Marinette!”

“Felix!” Marinette screeched. Adrien was right there!

“What?” he shoved an entire eclair in his mouth, “Adrien, lad, don’t you agree?”

“I uh…” Adrien looked down sheepishly.

“On second thought, she isn’t a snack.” Felix shook his head and leaned closer to Adrien, “She’s the whole damn meal.”

“Out!” Marinette shoved him out the door. “Take the eclairs and go!”

“Touchy.” Felix rolled his eyes. “I’m leaving. See ya!” Felix rushed downstairs and into the neighboring apartment he supposedly lived in.

“I’m sorry about him.” Marinette sighed, “His people skills are not the best.”

“He is certainly outspoken.” Adrien chuckled. “But he was right about one thing.”

“What?”

“You look good.” Adrien nodded. “You always look good.”

“Oh,” Marinette blushed, “Thank you.”

With that Adrien left leaving Marinette with a lot fo warring feelings in her head. She wanted to ring Felix’s neck for his interference but in the end it had worked. Adrien had been flirting with her. Adrien thought she looked good! She was gonna swoon!

“I think that went rather well.” Felix appeared next to her with a now empty eclair box. “Don’t you?”

“YOU!” Marinette seethed. “What was that! What were you thinking? Why did you put my hand on his thigh like that?!”

“Cause you weren’t making a move!” He snapped his fingers and the air turned back on instantly cooling the room again. “And look what happened. Everything turned out fine.”

“And your intrusion right at the end?”

“I was aiming just to get the eclairs before you could offer the rest of them to mister perfect. But I saw another opportunity to talk you up and I think it still worked out.”

“Whatever,” Marinette sighed. “I’m too sweaty and frazzled to deal with you right now.”

She looked up at him and swiped a bit of cream off his face. She popped the finger in her mouth licking the cream off. “I’m gonna get a shower.”

“Right.” Felix nodded furiously. “I’m gonna throw this box away.”

Felix quickly exited the room.

“Okay?” What was his problem? Did he forget there was a garbage can right here? He was out of her hair at least. She bound into the bathroom to wash away the grime of the hot afternoon. Tomorrow was another day and with it was most likely another plan of Felix’s that she needed to be ready for.

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(1) (2) (3) (4) (6)

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(tagged)

@sannsibarr @miss-mysterys-blog @maribug-adrienoir @mermaidreject @corabeth11 @goblinwhoships @symwinter

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix #felinette #demon au #writing

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spartanguard · 5 years

Text

you ain't gonna be lonesome anymore

Summary: Emma discovers that there's more to the guy who lives alone in the woods than the town would lead her to believe—and may have just found a kindred spirit. (Modern AU inspired by "Joshua" by Dolly Parton)

A/N: In the spirit of Dolly Parton's Heartstrings, this piece was inspired by her song "Joshua", which I heard and immediately knew needed to be an AU. I had intended to wait until closer to the release of the series but...I couldn’t. Hope you like it!

rated G | 5.6k | AO3

On her way into town, through the narrow forest road that just barely held two lanes of traffic, Emma Swan saw it—a tiny little cabin hiding among the trees. It probably wouldn’t have caught her attention were it not for the light coming through the windows, practically a beacon in the dimming dusk, and the bit of smoke coming from the chimney.

And she probably wouldn’t have given it another thought were it not for the people of Storybrooke being the way they were. She just assumed it was normal for hermits to live in cabins in the Maine woods, but once she realized this town was full of busybodys who knew everyone and made everyone’s business their own, she saw the oddity of it.

Not like she was much of anything normal herself; this was just another stop on the road to wherever. Neal may have left her with a broken heart and jail time on her record, but she also couldn’t forget his words: “Home is the place, when you leave...you just miss it.” So far, she hadn’t missed anywhere; not Arizona, not Tallahassee, not Minnesota, New York, Boston—anywhere.

And she was pretty sure she’d be able to add Storybrooke to that list. It was almost too quaint to be true, and the people, while hospitable, were one step away from cloying. But winter was approaching, and this seemed as good a place to hibernate as any other before moving onto the next.

So she got a job at the diner and began putting names to faces of just about everyone in town. The grumpy miner, Leroy, liked his bacon; the cute sheriff, Graham, stereotypically enjoyed doughnuts. And so on. She got the gossip about the romance between the teacher and the recently divorced manager of the animal shelter, and the equally scandalous teenage pregnancy that prompted the young lovebirds to elope.

It was on a quick trip out of town—because Storybrooke had a terrible liquor selection and she’d be damned if she spent her birthday drinking the swill at the Rabbit Hole—that she saw the cabin again, looking just as cozy yet standoffish as it had a month ago, and it got her wondering. Now that she knew everyone, just who lived there?

“Hey Granny,” she asked a couple days later (once she was over her hangover). “You know that cottage in the woods, out by the highway?”

“What about it?” the diner’s owner barked impatiently, even though they were in the middle of the afternoon lull.

“Who lives there?” She could see Graham tucking away out there, or maybe it was Belle, the sweet but reserved librarian.

“No one worth knowing,” Granny grumbled. “And you won’t see ‘em around here, anyways. Good riddance.”

Emma frowned; that was antithesis to just about everything she’d learned about this town. Everyone was so keen to make sure she knew everyone else—so what was going on there?

“You talking about the Jones place, out on the ridge?” Leroy asked, the only other person in the diner.

“I guess so.”

“Yeah, don’t bother. He’s a dick.”

“What did he do?” she asked, making a move to refill Leroy’s coffee mug.

“He just...is. Anytime anyone has gotten close to his property, they’ve been run off. The one time I saw him, he was glaring at anyone who dared to get too close. There's all sorts of weird sounds and smells coming from his property. He’s just a nasty piece of work. Don’t you worry about him, sister—just keep your distance and you’ll be fine.”

Well, Emma had a terrible problem with doing what people told her. Now she was curious.

She tested the waters. She started to ask people when it was slow if they knew anything about the cabin in the woods, and got all kinds of responses.

“Stay away from him, dear; his heart’s as black as his hair.”

“My cousin got lost hiking and ended up near the property; guns started ringing out and he ran the other way as fast as he could.”

“I ran into him down at the docks one night. No clue what he was doing there but it didn’t look like anything good.”

“I heard he’s a werewolf, and that's why he lives all alone!” (That one was from one of the kids in town.)

“No, silly; he’s a pirate, with a hook for a hand! He’s got his treasure out there so that’s why he protects it!” (And that was said kid’s friend.)

“He’s evil, plain and simple,” she was assured by the pawnbroker—but given that man’s smarm and apparent Napoleon complex, she didn’t take his word as gold.

Emma had seen a lot more of the world than the residents of Storybrooke, and a lot more people; while she hadn’t had the best interactions with all of them, she knew that no one was as terrible as they all made this Jones guy out to be.

She also knew a thing or two about keeping your distance from people and the reasons one might have to do that—especially the people here; there were some days she figured he had the right idea, particularly after she’d heard some nasty things about the teacher said by the prudish old ladies. God forbid they ever learn Emma’s romantic history; it might kill them in their vinyl-covered seats.

And Emma had always been a bit of a rebel; that streak had gotten her kicked out of more than a few homes growing up and into several scrapes, but even at 28, she had no desire to tamp it down.

So on one of the last crisp days of fall, early in November, she decided she’d see what the fuss was about.

She packed up a few pastries purchased with her employee “discount” (otherwise known as “take them out of my paycheck, Granny”), a thermos of hot cocoa, wrapped herself up in her leather jacket and a scarf, and then headed off on what she told people was a “fall colors hike”. Which wasn’t entirely a lie, even if more leaves were on the ground than the trees at this point.

“Don’t go poking around that Jones place, you hear?” Granny called as she was leaving. “I’m not gonna drag your carcass home.”

Emma just rolled her eyes. She’d be fine.

Wouldn’t she?

She couldn’t lie—some of the stories started sending shivers down her spine the closer she got to the property. She’d never really been an outdoors-y girl, at least not by choice; there may have been a few nights spent on park benches, but only in the summer. And she generally preferred to stick to marked trails, but this forest didn’t have any—at least, not that went where she was headed. So it took all her concentration to make sure she didn’t slip on a slick patch or some protruding tree root.

Or maybe it was the trees themselves; they were tall and a tiny bit foreboding, as if they were telling her she wasn’t supposed to be there. (Maybe she wasn’t quite as rebellious as she thought.) Somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, the voice of Legolas was telling her how old the forest was. But then she laughed aloud when she remembered a meme that changed it to “old as balls”.

Her laughter was quickly cut off by a growl, though. Up ahead was a large, shaggy black dog—and he was standing his ground. Emma saw the clearing—and the cabin—beyond, and realized she’d arrived. Crap, had that kid been right about the werewolf thing? This dog was huge.

She remembered something about not looking a crazy dog in the eyes and was trying to avoid contact, but then a voice called out that drew both of their attentions.

“Who are you?”

Standing in the entryway of the cabin was who she assumed was the owner and—damn. She was not expecting a guy who looked like that to be living out here. The old lady in the diner had been right about black hair, but where she’d been expecting long and messy, it was short and slightly tousled. He had a bit of scruff and even from far away, she could see the way his piercing blue eyes and furrowed brows were studying her. And a strong nose, sharp jaw, and high cheekbones left him with a face much prettier than anything she expected.

He was dressed for rugged living, in a dark plaid button up and worn jeans, but the way they hugged his biceps and legs couldn’t possibly be practical. She wasn’t complaining, though—whatever he was doing out here was clearly good for him. He was probably the most attractive person she’d ever seen in person.

“Lass?” he called out again, and took a step out from the house. He had an accent that definitely wasn’t from Maine—probably from the other side of the Atlantic—and his voice was more than on edge. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t sound mean, though—just wary. She couldn’t blame him; she probably would be, too, if some strange person was standing in her front yard and staring.

Oh, right—she was the strange person.

“Hi! Sorry, I, uh, I’m Emma. Emma Swan.”

The dog was still growling; she hadn’t noticed in her ogling. “Easy, Smee,” he said, and the pup finally relaxed, then trotted back to the man. He gave the good boy a scratch behind the ears before ushering the mutt inside and turning his attention back to Emma. “Can I help you with something?”

She could think of a few lusty somethings but it was then she realized that she had no real plan for actually finding anyone out here, despite the fact that she knew the place was occupied. “Oh, no, not really; I, uh, just—”

“Just thought you’d come out and see if the one-handed old coot was real?”

Busted. Her eyes darted away, focusing on an old barrel standing in the yard—though not missing the prosthetic hook at the end of his left arm—and she was pretty sure she was blushing in shame. God, why did she think this was a good idea? He probably had enough gawkers and clearly didn’t like people and—and he was laughing. What?

She looked back up and he was chuckling at her, giving her a bit of a wry grin.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, starting to get worried that he really was crazy.

“You’re the first person who’s had the guts to do that in broad daylight,” he replied, still amused. “Do you want to come in?”

She could feel her eyebrows disappear into her beanie—that was not what she expected at all. There was still part of her waiting for him to produce a shotgun and run her off the property, or wondering if she was about to be chained to a radiator Black Snake Moan-style.

That said, this was also the most entertaining thing that had happened since she arrived here, and she’d certainly made it through shadier situations. That and there were zero creeper vibes from this guy—something she was all too good at noticing. “Sure,” she answered casually.

He smiled—a brilliant thing, really, brighter than the autumn sun shining through the mostly bare branches—and beckoned her to follow him into the house. Leaves and twigs crunched under her boots as she followed.

He paused at the door, though, and turned back to her. “Oh, you can call me Killian, by the way. Killian Jones.”

“Nice to meet you, Killian Jones.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Emma Swan.”

He led the way in and she was right behind him, stopping only to swipe her shoes on the doormat; she may be awkward, but she didn’t want to be rude and track mud in—especially once she got a look around.

It wasn’t a large cabin, she knew that, but it was surprisingly spacious inside and clean—much cleaner than the rural setting would suggest. The wood floors were immaculately waxed and there wasn’t even the haze of dust motes swirling in the light from the windows; she couldn’t say half as much about her cramped apartment.

There was a tidy living space with a couch, a recliner, and an inviting fireplace with a large TV mounted above it; a small kitchen area to one side; and a couple doors on the other that she assumed headed to bedrooms. Smee was draped over one end of the sofa, his furry head resting on the arm as he watched her—still judging, but not aggressive, at least. Then the sound of wood scraping against wood drew her eyes back to the kitchen, where Killian was sliding another chair up to the small table. “Take a seat,” he said with a nod.

“Thanks,” she answered, and complied; the furniture was well-loved but also in good shape.

“Rum?” he asked, but he was already pulling glasses from a cupboard.

“Only if it’s good.” If anything, she’d be glad to leave Storybrooke for somewhere with better booze.

“Trust me, it’s the best.” He set the glasses on the table and then went back to grab an old-looking bottle off the counter; vintage was putting it lightly: it was scuffed and scratched and had no label, only a cork in the top to protect the amber liquid.

She had to bite her tongue when he deftly pulled out the cork with his teeth, because the extra attention on his mouth just highlighted how supple—and likely kissable—his lips were. He poured a generous amount for both of them before setting the bottle down and taking the seat next to her.

He lifted his glass, but then paused. “I feel like I should toast to something, but I’ve no clue what.”

It did feel odd to be making a toast with an almost-total stranger, but Emma agreed; that and it felt rude to not make one, and she’d already been that enough today. “To good rum?” she offered.

“Works for me. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” She took a sip and— “Damn,” she sighed as it slid down her throat. “You weren’t lying.” It was the perfect blend of sweet and spicy, with a light amount of burn that warmed up the bit of her that had been starting to numb in the chill autumn air.

“I make a habit not to.”

“Good to know.”

They took a few more sips in companionable silence, until he set his glass down and stared into it. “So, um,” he started, then scratched nervously behind his ear. “What, uh, what are they saying about me in town?”

“Nothing true.”

He arched an eyebrow at her in disbelief. “You hardly know me, lass.”

“No, but I can tell that your heart isn’t as black as your hair.”

“Someone said that?”

“Yup.”

“Well, it’s poetic; I’ll give it that,” he chuckled. “Anything else?”

“Mostly that you’re rude and combative, although the kids tell some tall tales.”

“Such as?”

“Werewolf, vampire, pirate—take your pick.”

He laughed again (a sound she was finding she enjoyed quite a bit). “I suppose pirate is the most apt of that list.”

“You do have good taste in rum.” Damn good; this reminded her of the stuff she bought on her birthday. “But I thought pirates lived on the high seas?”

“I do have a ship.”

“Okay then.” That explained why people saw him at the docks. “But then why would you live up here?”

He shrugged. “I imagine you’ve seen what that town is like.” She nodded; that she had. “I wasn’t in much mood for company when I arrived here, so they took that as a slight on their perceived hospitality. They wrote me off from there, and if that was how they were going to treat a newcomer, then I wanted no part of it.” He took another long drag of his rum. “And given that I wasn’t much in the mood for company, this place seemed perfect. So I bought the property, fixed it up, and...here I am. Well, me and Smee.”

She understood that; it was easier to keep people at arms’ length than to let them in and risk them hurting you. Casual, passing relationships were fine; intimacy was off the table, even platonic.

The thing she couldn’t figure out, though, was what was happening in the present.

“And what about now?”

“Pardon?”

“Are you in the mood for company...now?”

He was still studying his drink, but glanced up at her through his long lashes, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “I suppose I am.” He paused a bit, then added, “Are you?”

“Not usually,” she answered quickly. “But it doesn’t seem so bad at the moment.”

The fine lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he gave her a sideways smile that, to her astonishment, made her heart skip a beat; she couldn’t remember the last time that happened. And—was it just her, or the rum, or were his cheeks pink? Was he blushing?

How did she stumble upon what might be one of the most adorable people on the face of the earth in the middle of the woods?

“So,” he continued casually, as if he hadn’t just possibly taken up residence in a part of Emma’s heart that she wasn’t sure worked anymore, “just how did you end up in Storybrooke?”

“I drove here,” she said nonchalantly.

“Ha. But really.”

She initially blamed it on the rum when she poured out her whole sob story to him, but in hindsight, the reality was that he was the first person she didn’t think would judge her too hard on it—which was confirmed when he relayed his own, which wasn’t terribly different: unstable homes, absent family members, and then broken hearts. When he found out about her nomadic lifestyle, he asked about the places she’d been; she followed suit when he told her he’d been in the Navy, which was where he lost his hand.

“Okay, but really,” she demanded, voice a bit louder than normal thanks to the influence of the rum. “Even if you’re not in the Navy anymore, you could go anywhere; why the hell are you here?”

He shrugged and licked his (delectable) lips. “Everyone has to make port somewhere at some point.”

She gave him a disbelieving look. “Yeah, but...Storybrooke? What even is there to do here? Why not go to a place like New York or Boston?”

Staring into his now-empty glass, he chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, then cast her a sideways glance. “Let’s just say...some ventures in life demand a fair bit of privacy, which is also something I quite value.” He was silent for another moment, but then continued, “If I show you something, do you think you can keep it secret?”

She held up her right hand in a Vulcan salute. “Scout’s honor.”

Killian’s jaw hung open at whatever the hell she was doing (frankly, she didn’t know herself, either), before chuckling, shaking his head, and coming to his feet. “Follow me.”

They headed back outside, Smee trotting behind them, over to the far edge of the property, opposite the way Emma had come from. Hidden between some trees was a small shack that was just as clean and pristine on the outside as the cottage was on the inside. As they got closer, she picked up on a smell that wasn’t the forest, but did seem familiar—and, she hated to say it, Leroy was right: there was a weird noise coming from it.

“What is this?” she had to ask.

“You’ll see,” he answered casually, pulling a key from his shirt pocket to unlock the door.

Inside wasn’t very big, and it was crowded with equipment on one end and bottle-covered tables on the other. The spicy scent overpowered her and almost stung a bit; it reminded her of her brief career as a bartender in a strip club and the smell of stale alcohol that wasn’t properly mopped after a spill. Wait—was this? “Rum?” she said, almost in disbelief, turning to look back at him.

“Aye.”

She assessed the operation once more; it looked more like the inside of the chemistry lab she was supposed to go to in high school than a moonshine operation. It was impressive, honestly. “So I guess you really are a pirate, huh?” she teased.

He gave a mock bow. “Captain Hook, at your service.”

She giggled, but then it was like a lightning bolt or whatever went off in her head. “Wait—Hook’s Rum?”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of it.”

She snorted. “I got drunk on it on my birthday. Best rum I’ve ever had.”

“It’s always nice to make an impression,” he said with a smirk. God, he was a dork.

“How many times have people tried to break in?” she wondered as he slipped past her inside and grabbed an empty bottle.

“Are you trying to rob me?” he countered as he fiddled with something on the still, flipping a lever with his hook and letting amber liquid pour into the bottle.

“Nope.”

“Then none.”

She leaned against the doorframe as she watched him work. “So, using your legend of infamy to keep your illicit business practices under wraps. I like it.”

“I have a license,” he tossed back as he shut off the flow once the bottle was full, then turned to another surface where an odd machine laid. “How else would you have bought it in the store?”

“Fair.” He twisted the handle on the contraption, which turned the bottle. “But is that how you’ve managed to keep this secret out here?”

“Indeed.” Carefully, he wiped the bottle down, then turned and handed it to her; now it bore the semi-familiar label that had caught her eye in the liquor store on it. “I can autograph that, if you want.”

“But then I can’t drink it.”

“Guess I better give you two, then.”

He did—somehow raising his dorkdom to adorable (adorkable?) levels—and directed them back to the house. The sun was definitely lower than it had been when she left and her stomach was starting to grumble; hopefully, those pastries weren’t crushed. But hunger wasn’t the first thing on her mind, oddly enough. “So,” she started, “if you keep that hidden, why did you trust me with it?”

He didn’t answer until they were back in the house. “You’ve been honest,” he answered simply. “And you have that look about you.”

“What look?”

“The look you get when you’ve been left alone.”

“Pretty sure we established that.”

“Yeah. But it means...I knew you’d understand.”

She swallowed and suddenly felt like his intense blue gaze on her saw every thought she’d ever had. “Yeah, I do,” she said softly.

And then her stomach rudely growled, interrupting what had been a soft but heavy moment.

Killian’s low chuckle eased her mortification, but only slightly. “I was about to make some grilled cheese, if you’d like; unless you need to get back to town.”

That look he’d just been talking about creeped into his eyes, and she saw it for the out it was. But what kind of monster turns that down? “Grilled cheese is my favorite.”

“Excellent. Pick out a movie and I’ll get that going.”

His collection was extensive, but she found herself more drawn to his book selection. Most people were surprised to know she was an avid reader, given her life, but she’d learned long ago that libraries were an excellent place to get out of inclement weather, and when you were strapped for cash, it was cheap entertainment.

Something he must have figured out, too, given the stack with Storybrooke Public Library stamped on the edges. “Really? You go to the library?”

“Is that really so surprising?” he called back from the kitchen, where she could hear the familiar sizzle of buttered bread on a griddle.

“Seems odd that the town hermit would go to the second-most welcoming place in the city center.”

“Only second-most?”

“After Granny’s.”

“Ahh,” was all he said, but then she heard the sound of dishes.

A minute later, he was back in the living room with a delicious, gooey sandwich on a plate just for her. “Well, there’s little that can keep me away from a good book, and Belle is the only other person in town that I like.”

“Other than…?”

“You, obviously.”

“I moved up your list that fast?”

“You’re second of three; let’s not get too cocky, love.”

“Yeah? Who’s third?”

“Belle. Smee is first.”

“Oh, I see,” she threw back, amused. It was kind of insane how easily they fell into banter after only...wow, had it really been 4 hours since she showed up here?

He invited her to take a seat on the end of the couch opposite Smee while he settled into the recliner and they started to talk about books. Then movies, then TV a bit, but it moved onto their respective educations (Emma: GED; Killian: the equivalent of a master’s or something crazy that he got from the naval academy and was decidedly not using).

He got another bottle of rum out once they finished eating and continued to drink and talk through the night, about...oh, everything. Emma knew she had been talking a long time because she was trying to use the rum to rehydrate (which probably wasn’t working all that well) but it was hard to remember what all they had discussed when it was literally everything. And when she was honestly enjoying herself more than any time in recent memory. Even Smee had finally warmed up to her, resting his head in her lap as she scratched behind his floppy ears.

Had she ever fallen into conversation this easily? Probably not. But then again, no one else was like Killian.

She’d been vaguely aware of the changing color of the sky outside his windows as the night wore on—orange to blue to black—but when lavender crept in, she finally took a glance at her phone and was shocked to see the time.

“Oh shit—I have to get to work,” she cursed.

“At this hour?”

“Breakfast rush,” she explained, showing the clock on her phone.

Killian’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t realize...I’m so sorry to have kept you, Swan.”

“Quit being such a gentleman; I didn’t notice, either. The only thing is…” At this, she giggled for some reason. “I haven’t slept a wink and I’m slightly tipsy. This will be real interesting.”

He made a beeline for the kitchen and put a pot of coffee on while she gathered her things and shoved one of the day-old pastries in her mouth; she had enough time to walk back into town but she’d have to head straight to the diner. Assuming she didn’t stumble and hit a tree on the way. No—she was NOT giving Granny the satisfaction of knowing her warning had come true and actually forcing the old lady to drag her body from the woods. (She’d rather Killian do that, anyways.) (Or, you know, do her, but she got the impression he wasn’t the one-night kind of guy—or maybe she just didn’t want him to be that with her.)

She’d just zipped her coat when a thermos was being shoved in her hands; by smell alone, she could tell this was better than the cheap stuff Granny served. “Hope that helps,” he said softly.

“It already is,” she answered, then took a sip, not caring if she burnt her tongue. “Damn—is everything you brew amazing?”

“I try,” he shrugged arrogantly, but then the cocky facade washed away in an instant, replaced with something bordering on sheepish. “You know, if you wanted to come back later, or any other time, my schedule’s pretty clear.”

“Well, hopefully you’re going to get some sleep.”

“Well, yes, that. But, um,” he stammered, nervously scratching a spot behind his ear. “Don’t be a stranger, is what I’m trying to say. I’m...you’ll always be welcome here, if you want.” He was definitely blushing, the color visible even in the faint pre-dawn light.

“I might take you up on that,” she answered, trying to be casual but ending up much closer to sincere—because she had a feeling she would. She was already kind of dreading leaving, even if it was just because she didn’t like the idea of working on no sleep and with a questionable BAC.

“I hope you do.” The weight of the sincerity of that statement settled over both of them for an intense moment that in itself was enough to bring her back to sobriety, if the coffee wasn’t doing it, too. But then he was overtaken by a jaw-cracking yawn that effectively killed it.

“Go to bed,” she commanded, with a light shove on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I will. Be safe.”

“I’ll do my best. See you later,” she farewelled, hoping he could tell she meant it.

“Until then, Swan.”

She let herself out the door and headed back the way she came, at first afraid to cast a glance behind her because she thought if she did, she might not want to leave ever. But she finally did when she was back on the edge of the clearing, and saw him watching her through the window on the door. She smiled and waved, which he returned, but she didn’t miss the bit of loneliness in his gaze as he watched her walk away.

It took considerable effort, but she managed to put one foot in front of the other and continue on her way. The sun wasn’t visible yet, so she still had time, but she needed to hustle if she’d make her shift.

Between the coffee and the gorgeous sunrise, it was definitely a pleasant hike, and was definitely helping her in the staying-awake department. Still though, there was a feeling she couldn’t shake—something completely foreign, yet vaguely familiar, and she couldn’t lie—it kind of stung. What the heck was that?

She took another sip of the coffee as she tried to figure it out, letting it warm her as it slid down her throat. She’d almost forgotten what good coffee tasted like, let alone when it had been made fresh and just for her. It was going to suck going back to Granny’s mass-produced bean water; she’d miss this stuff.

Wait—miss it?

Was that what she was feeling?

Not just for the coffee, obviously (though that was certainly part of it). Did she already miss Killian?

“Home is the place, when you leave...you just miss it.”

No. That was insane. She’d only been there for, like, 12 hours. You can’t find home that fast, can you? (Not like she’d really know.)

But she couldn’t deny that it felt like part of her had stayed behind in that cottage. Or that she was already counting down the hours until her work shift ended and she could come back. Or that the ache got just a little bit worse with each step that took her away.

Damn. That had to be it.

Who knew she’d finally find what she’d been looking for in the middle of nowhere?

The sun finally broke the horizon as she reached Granny’s front steps and downed the last drop of coffee. She still had a couple minutes, so she quickly stashed the thermos in her backpack and used the selfie camera on her phone to make sure she didn’t look too haggard, lest Granny get some uncouth ideas.

(Actually, Granny was probably dirtier than Emma was, in that regard; and she had the oddest sense that the old lady might be able to smell the forest on her, or at least the rum.)

With one last deep breath, if only to make sure she didn’t reek too bad, Emma smoothed her hair and headed inside, for what was sure to be an arduous shift.

But, unlike most days, she actually had something to look forward to at the end of it.

Hours later, she pulled her little old Bug up the semi-hidden driveway on the other side of Killian’s property, bearing sandwiches and onion rings. Killian came out to greet her, but she didn’t let him get a word in before she’d pressed up on her toes and stole his smile with a kiss. (That he quickly reciprocated. Until Smee interrupted with a friendly bark, looking for his own hello.)

A few weeks later, her belongings, stuffed into a few age-worn duffel bags, accompanied her on her now-daily trip to the cabin in the woods; she was spending all her time there anyways, as Killian had pointed out—may as well just make the move permanent.

It took a bit longer for either of them to admit it out loud, but they both blurted it one night while cuddled close, watching The Princess Bride with Smee at their feet: she loved him, and he loved her. There was no denying it. And then they couldn’t stop saying it.

Eventually, they grew tired of Storybrooke and its whispers. Eventually, Killian’s not-so-discreet rum business got more notice. So they went onto the next place without much fuss.

She felt a bit sad when they first left the cabin, mainly because it was where they fell in love. But her home wasn’t those four walls. No, it was with Killian—and Smee, and whatever other animals or tiny humans eventually joined them—wherever that might be.

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

thanks for reading! tagging some friends: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @effulgentcolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis

#cs ff #cs modern au #dolly parton au #my ff

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lucyintheskywithtemplars · 4 years

Text

AC: Ragnarok--no, that’s a Thor movie--Valhalla!

Okay! So. I was in a teleconference today (because the one thing that hasn’t shut down during this pandemic is Construction, Especially of Hospitals) when Ubisoft did their Thing. So I missed it. But now: time to watch the trailer.

(I did get to passively, distractedly watch the art thing yesterday they did on twitter, but all I got from it was pretty landscapes and silhouette of a Big Guy, so aside from the Ubisoft AC Special (TM), and VIKINGS, I don’t know what I’m about to see. Huzzah!)

Disclaimer: I tried to keep my language clean, but that failed at some point

Bullet points, go!

1. So.... that’s looking to be a fairly burly guy. Or at least very well armoured.

2. If there is no option to play as a lady this time I will S C R E A M and then promptly wage internet war (no I won’t). Kass spoiled me, you can’t take that away from me, Ubisoft!

3. A priestess woman... is she our female playable character?

4. It’s taken me until now to figure out that the voice over narration is an actual character speaking and not just... a random voice over narrator.

5. LOL the narration is all about how they kill indiscriminately and of course Ubisoft pairs that with a “oh look at this woman and her child(ren?), let’s allow them to run away from the fighting and violence and not kill them” and I mean. This is AC of course they’re going to make their protag / protag’s people look good, so I’m not surprised, and knowing that this is a character narration means it’s propaganda to some degree (Templaaaaars!). I’m just. You’re really going out of your way to show where the lines are drawn, but in the most subtle manner you can manage, eh?

6. I gotta say: that switch from actual battle to play fighting and training with the fam? That’s a nice transition. Almost as good as the ones for the Origins Theatrical Trailer (all caps, because that? Is the shit. Still my favourite. Leonard Cohen! Bayek! Aya/Amunet! Egypt! Cleo and Caesar and did I say Bayek! And SENU, MY LOVE <3 <3 <3 <3 <3).

7. I didn’t bother to look up what year (decade) this is set in exactly, but I’m going to assume it’s pre-Christianization of the Scandiwegian countries/lands, so that means A) this is probably not going to have a happy ending, and B) my immediate reaction of KING JOHN! WHERE IS ROBIN HOOD? Is way off base

8. Guy in the background is reminding me of what’s his face from ACII. Damn it. I remember Savonarola, but not him. The Gonfallioniere (sp?). I’m recording all of my thoughts trying to remember this fool’s name because it’s bugging me so much I SHOULD KNOW IT. Um. What’s his face. The Betrayer. That guy. Getting those same vibes from Mister Background For The King. (An eminence grise?)

9. AAAAAAND... BATTLE! This is feeling like that one mission in AC3, where they tricked us into thinking we could do the same thing in actual play as Connor did in the trailer. THAT’S WHAT I’M FEELING, I am Worried. Not super stealthy to be front and centre in a giant free for all!

10. (I say like the entire premise of this game isn’t VIKINGS. What do I know)

11. WHAT IS THAT FLORENTINE LAWYER GUY’S NAME?????

12. So the... leader? Chief? Head honcho? The dude gets taken out and the guy-who-is-I-guess-our-boy just lobs that... axe? Very nice.

13. A hooded person! So maybe we actually ARE being stealthy? Is that our boy/girl?

14. No, my bad, that was just fucking god. (KASS? IS THAT YOU?)

15. “Odin is with us!” Well, that was definitely our standard bird of prey that just took off (I’m including Corvids in this--I just 100% typo’ed that as “Covid”, I’ve Pavlov’d my fingers apparently). So random hooded person who is Not Odin what is wrong with you is... maybe probably our boy/girl? Nice. And dude who is speaking is not?

(15.2. I have to admit, I’m on my second watch, and I’m still having trouble keeping track of who is who between each scene. Is the guy who meets the priestess and gets blood markings the same one we see talking? Is it the leader who gets shanked in the battle? Is it someone else entirely? I don’t know! I’m just going to assume that we’re focusing on the guy who speaks during the battle because of Reasons From Further Points.)

16. No, seriously, what is that fool’s name from Florence? Damnit.

17. Dude-on-a-horse! ...I’m assuming you’re the guy from the scene with the King. And now you’re on a horse! With a... giant of a man beside you. (Ser Gregor Clegane, is that you?)

18. Holy shit it might be, I want a normal person to stand beside both Mister Mountain and our boy, how big are you guys????? Height, muscle, mass, weight, armour, all of the above? The scales for these people look. So weird.

19. Mario Kart 64 had the battle rounds for two or more players? And when you selected it there was that (Luigi?) voice clip that said, “Battol!” Yeah, I definitely heard that when our boy faced off with Mister Mountain.

20. NOT LOOKING TOO HOT THERE, P.O.V. CHARACTER, MAYBE YOU NEED A LITTLE HELP FROM YOUR HOODED FRIEND?

21. HA! HELP GRANTED AND--

22. YOU ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME. Now I need to go back and rewatch and see if I can pick up on that bracer from earlier scenes. (And over the back of the hand? Definitely a follow through Origins then.)

23. THE SHIT. IS THIS.

24. !!!!!!!! ALBERTO UMBERTI! YOU FUCKER I FORGOT YOUR NAME!!!! Anyway.

25. But yeah, I was really hoping for some kind of surprise stealth kill like the arrow storms from Brotherhood, but... this works? I guess? I DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS.

26. I lied--I know exactly how I feel about this. Very... RPG-ish, more God of War than AC. I’m probably going to enjoy it anyway because I do enjoy God of War, but since this is supposed to fit in the timeline between Origins and ACI (Altair! It’s been too long, I’ve missed you, your arrogant prick), I was kind of hoping for something that leaned more towards the stealth of Altair (except for when I’m playing the game) and less the knock-em-down, drag-em-out brawling of Odyssey.

On the other hand, our boy (and hopefully lady!) goes a-viking, so. I don’t know why I thought it might be anything different?

27. I didn’t comment on the music but! This sounds familiar! It has a very Woodkid-vibe to it, but without being Woodkid (I think?????). And lots of sound effects, of course, so I’m going to have to look this up to get a proper feel for it. It just sort of... faded into the background except in one or two spots, and I know that’s what you want for good sound mixing, but this is a trailer, not a feature length film, I want to hear the song. I’m assuming it was chosen for a reason, I’d like to be able to tell what that reason is.

(27.2 They actually used a song from Jonsi for the Black Flag trailer, and since Sigur Ros is from Iceland this might have been the better time to use it... oh! Wait I can just go look up if they have a track similar to this. Exciting!) (I apologize for the lack of proper spelling there, I’m fighting with my keyboard to make it type English characters properly, let alone ones that my computer considers “special” characters :\ )

Thoughts: Okay, well, one trailer and me otherwise ignoring all the rumours for AC means I have nothing solid to really form an opinion about. Aside from A+++++ animation quality, Ubisoft, you never fail in that department. (Game quality and glitches, on the other hand... I still remember Arno’s L’Oreal commercial, Ubisoft,)

I’m excited to see northern Europe and the British Isles in game form! It might be the only form of travelling I get to do in the next few months. ...even though this is supposed to be out just before New Years?

I said just above that I had Thoughts on how the story would be bridged between Origins and ACI, and I still do, but I’m intrigued to see where and how Ubisoft is going to take this and play with it. I also need to check and see if they’ve confirmed a timeline/decade/year that this takes place in, so I can go pour over all the history from that time period. ...and maaaaaaybe we’ll get to go see Constantinople when it was Constantinople and before it became Istanbul during Ezio’s lifetime (ish)?

AC: Revelations: fighting with Jannisaries. AC: Valhalla (DLC?): fighting as a Varangian Guard (the sort-of precursor to the Jannisaries)

A girl can dream, right?

#meco livefails ACV #HA #I DON'T NEED TO COME UP WITH A ANOTHER WAY TO WRITE THE ACRONYM!#SUCCESS!#ACO and ACOdy kept messing me up lbr #anyway #I might post my Thoughts about bridging ACO to ACV later #and yes #it really did bother me that much that I couldn't remember Umberti's name #I'm still not 100% sure that's right #but I can't actually be assed to look it up #assassin's creed #assassin's creed valhalla

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pengiesama · 5 years

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The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag (Chapter 1) (Fic, TOZ, Sorey/Mikleo)

Title: The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo

Summary:

Sorey and the crew investigate reports of a black market trafficking ring, and zero in on a particularly nasty noble at the center of it all. Luckily, said noble is opening his chateau to host a masquerade – the perfect opportunity to get close. Unluckily, the Shepherd’s fame has spread wide, and Sorey needs a disguise to make sure he’s incognito.

This is achieved by the obvious solution, and that's to disguise him in a dress and pass him off as Rose's sister. What could possibly go wrong?

Notes:

Written for the Sorey/Mikleo 2019 Big Bang!

I partnered up with the wonderful Arivess @minstrels-ink and Nami; both of whom provided their artistic skills to complement my wack-ass ideas. I am eternally grateful to them.

Arivess's art is featured in Chapter 1! You can find her Tumblr here. Nami's art is featured in Chapter 2! You can find her Twitter here.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

“You’re lucky that you’re such a quick study on running in heels.”

“C’mon, Mikleo, is this really the time!?”

The hellion was fast – very fast – and easily closed in on whatever distance Sorey tried to put between them. His armatus with Mikleo was suited for sniping from afar, not for getting up close and personal with those rows and rows of sharp teeth. A change of tactics was needed, and – one body as they were – Sorey didn’t even need to speak the thought aloud before Mikleo helped him put the thought into action.

Sorey released his hold on the tether keeping them in the armatus, and felt Mikleo do the same. They split in two, and Mikleo allowed himself to be flung from Sorey’s sure and steady grip directly into the trunk of a tree. He vaulted gracefully off the trunk, and used the momentum to spring himself across the clearing and well out of the way of the rampaging hellion – and well out of the way of Sorey’s flaming sword.

“Fethmus Mioma!”

The flames illuminated the dark forest clearing, like morning’s light. The hellion shrank back, briefly stunned. Not that Sorey considered himself anything like an expert on hellions, but he’d never seen anything quite like this before. A wolf-headed hellion that stood at the height of three men, and had the approximate width of one of the emaciated famine victims that were such a common sight in towns these days. It was the width that was, perhaps, the most concerning – by any logic, it should have been wider, so much wider, to fit all the victims that it had been reported to have consumed. How could a hellion that devoured whole caravans of victims – stuffing them into the ever-drooling mouth, with its dozens of long, long arms – still be so grotesquely thin?

As always, Sorey’s certain tendency to get lost in his thoughts was something of a hindrance in battle. Luckily, there was someone still paying attention in this fight. The hellion was knocked over by a lucky hit from Rose and Edna’s armatus, and careened into a nearby tree with a dangerous-sounding crack. The tree lurched and toppled over, pinning the beast beneath it. Howling, the hellion tried to drag its body along the forest floor with those dozens of long arms; like a massive centipede that had been trapped beneath a giant boot. The air around the creature shimmered, and from the glinting aether, glowing chains sprang forth and bound the hellion (and the tree) more firmly into place. Zaveid landed atop the creature from where he’d been slinking about in the treetop cover, and struck a pose.

The hellion was too wounded to flee, too wounded to toss Zaveid off; too wounded and too mad with malevolence to do anything but crouch, drool, and snarl as Sorey and Lailah approached to attempt purification.

Rose wheezed in relief as she stumbled out of her armatus. She shook out her wrist, and flexed her fingers, as if testing to make sure they could still hold a knife.

“Geez! That thing’s skull was rock-hard. Felt like trying to put my fist through a wall…”

“You’re welcome to use your head next time if the Lady Edna’s holy fists aren’t cutting the mustard,” Edna replied drily. “I imagine it’s one of the only naturally-occurring elements that outrank them on the hardness scale.”

“I’m glad everyone’s feeling so energetic after that fight.” Mikleo finished up tending to Rose’s hand and arm with his healing artes, and surveyed the rest of the party judgmentally. “I take that to mean that no one will be whining at me when we head to the inn that their back hurts, then? I’d prefer to be bothered now than have to find out later…”

Sorey felt Mikleo’s stare burning into the back of his neck. He swallowed hard and tried to focus on finishing things up with Lailah and the hellion.

“Yanno, it’s almost a shame that we gotta purify this thing,” Zaveid said. He was still perched atop the hellion, and was holding the chains binding it like a pair of reins. “It’d make a pretty metal mount, don’t ya think? Roll up to a hot date riding this thing and you’ll have ‘em swooning.”

The hellion gave a pained shriek as the flames continued to burn away its tainted flesh. The acrid smell of it filled the night air. Its many limbs clawed at its face and neck, rending the skin there, as if mutilating itself was a relief in comparison to being healed of the corruption inside.

“The more we learn about you, Zaveid,” Mikleo said. “The more we understand you.”

“You’ll want to get down,” Lailah lightly called up to him.

Zaveid winked at her and made a little heart with his fingers. “Ooh, Lailah, no need to be so shy. C’mon up here, the weather’s fine—”

The flames had climbed up to where Zaveid stood, and the hellion’s constructed form finally collapsed in on itself like the frame of a burning house. Zaveid stumbled briefly before managing to catch himself on the superheated updraft of air and bounce off it to land on the ground with a…marginal amount of grace. Or at least without falling on his ass.

“How’s it looking?” Rose called over to Sorey and Lailah. “Human, animal, plant? Bunch of rocks glued together with googly eyes stuck on?”

Sorey took a deep breath to steady himself after the purification, and Mikleo was already behind him to grab at his shoulder. Steady as anything.

“Human,” Sorey said, finally. “Still alive. Not awake yet.”

“Peachy,” Rose said. “Much easier to interrogate a person. I’ve heard that the Sparrowfeathers’ boss is in quite a snit over all those shipments he’s gobbled up, and she’s dying for the full story.”

Which was, of course, part of why they were here. This particular hellion had been targeting caravans navigating this stretch of road between the border of Hyland and Rolance. The harrowing accounts of the survivors was motivation enough for Sorey and Rose to investigate and intervene, but Rose’s own motivation was given a bit of a nitro boost when she learned that several Sparrowfeather shipments had been delayed or lost due to the creature’s activity.

“…delayed…”

The man was waking up. He looked so terribly ordinary, in comparison to the nightmare that stalked the roads on a hundred limbs. He was dressed in simple traveling clothes. Thin cheeks, worn boots. Another person overcome by malevolence by starvation and resentment? He’d hardly be the first. But all he’d need was support, and –

“…delayed, delayed, delayed, delayed, can’t be late again, the boss said we can’t be late again, get the cargo—”

“Hold him down,” Rose said to Zaveid, before moving in herself.

“Anything for you, boss lady,” Zaveid said.

Chains glinted and held the man down, stopping him from thrashing while Rose grabbed his head on both sides and forced him to look at her.

“Hey. We’re passing through. Who’s this boss of yours? We’ll get the cargo to him on time.”

The man’s pupils shrank to pinpricks.

“No.”

He began to shake, then began to weep.

“Gone. Gone, they’re gone, they’re gone, we were supposed to deliver them to Hyland for sale but they’re gone and the boss he won’t like it he’ll know it was me and then Anne, Anne and the kids, they’ll—”

Zaveid pulled his chains tight, cutting the man off and binding him tighter to the ground.

“He’s gonna go hellion again if he gets himself worked up,” he barked at Rose. “And I sure as hell don’t like all this ‘them’ stuff with his ‘cargo’.”

Rose knew when to back down – that conversation was going nowhere fast, anyway. She wisely allowed Lailah to cast a spell that sent the man into the comparative relief of unconsciousness, and mulled over the facts they had.

“The Scattered Bones will take him into custody,” she said, finally.

“Custody?” Sorey said uneasily.

Rose leaned her head on her hand and looked at Sorey, one eyebrow raised. “You saw what happened the second he woke up. They’ll keep an eye on him at HQ and see if they can get the full story out of him.”

Sorey stared at the man for a moment, then swallowed hard. “And…try to help him?”

“As best as we can,” Rose replied, honestly. “You’ve seen this before, Sorey. People getting so desperate that they do things they can never forgive themselves for. He might wake up with a new lease on life, and we’ll put him to work in the company. Or he might wake up and immediately go creepy-crawly again the second he remembers what he’s done. Sometimes you just need to—”

“I get it,” Sorey cut her off. “But…we can’t just…he mentioned a boss.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” A slow, dangerous smile spread across Rose’s face. “We’re not done with them just yet.”

Lailah ahemed lightly, and glided forward.

“The man is purified. The Shepherd’s duty is finished,” she said. “Shall we discuss our next moves in a more…hospitable area?”

“Let’s rest at the inn a while,” Mikleo said.

His hand was a comfort and anchor on Sorey’s back. He allowed himself to lean into it, and be guided by Mikleo’s sure current.

“So, good news first,” Rose began. “It didn’t take long for us to get info on this boss guy.”

But Rose’s tone did not, in fact, indicate that the news was quite as good as all that. Things never seemed to be quite so simple, anymore.

“And the bad news?” Mikleo asked, voicing Sorey’s thoughts aloud.

Rose threw herself onto the inn bed and leaned back on her arms.

“Hooboy. Where to start? The bad news, the REALLY bad news, or the damn inconvenient news?”

“Ooh, now you’ve gotten me all excited.” Edna’s face was utterly expressionless, and her tone likewise. She was perched atop the inn’s tall wooden wardrobe; the vantage point allowing her to better beam her disdain at those below like a judgmental gargoyle. “Spill the beans before I perish from anticipation.”

Rose squinted up at her. “…how did you get…anyway. So. Our friend was part of a black market smuggling operation. First it was just contraband goods, and then they branched out into human trafficking – that was when his conscience caught up with him and he started chowing down on his coworkers and stalking the highways. He was pretty low on the ladder and didn’t know much about the guys really running it; he only ever had contact with cronies. But everything he told us lines up with cases that we’ve been monitoring for months. This ring isn’t just limited to a few scattered caravans on rural backroads. We’ve got reports of it being tied to activity across Hyland and Rolance, which let me tell you, will do peace talks no favors. Hyland’s gonna blame Rolance and Rolance’s gonna blame Hyland and so on.”

“…so, was that the bad news, the really bad news, or the inconvenient news?” asked Sorey.

“It’s all blended together in an intricate tapestry of unfortunateness,” Rose said. “So on one hand, it is Hyland’s fault. All of our sources are pointing to one of their nobles being the ringleader behind it all – his eminence Lord Mardoc of House Melwas. House Melwas owns most of the shipping lines nearest to Rolance’s borders, so the infrastructure was already there for him to pull this off. But on the other hand, even though he’s footing the bills and reaping the profits, these kinds of enterprises tend to be…group ventures. Especially when they’ve got a reach as wide as this. It’s not gonna go away completely even if we manage to take the boss chump down.”

“Even if we were to apprehend everyone involved, Hyland and Rolance would need to work together to extradite the accused and bring them to trial,” Mikleo said. “It could take years.”

“And that’s assuming Rolance will play nice,” Rose added. “Bet they’d only be too happy to set the blame totally on Hyland’s shoulders.”

“So…I guess it’s up to the Shepherd, then?” Sorey said, softly.

There was historical precedent for such a thing: Shepherds, mediating international disputes as the neutral third parties they were always intended to be. Sorey could rattle off at least three or four such incidents off the top of his head – one of them even involved digging up the skeleton of a previous Rolance pope to put it on trial. (The skeleton, judged guilty, was stripped of its papal hat and frockery and then beheaded. Sorey often wondered if any of that was truly necessary.) But reading about it in history books was one thing, and being expected to live it himself was…quite another.

A long, drawn-out fight amongst a bunch of squabbling politicians and nobles, all trying to point fingers while the world around them was falling apart. When the cards were laid out on the table like this, the odds seemed…almost insurmountable. Sorey’s shoulders drooped with the weight of his thoughts. Mikleo’s cool hand on his nape was all that kept him from sinking too deeply into a place that would be hard to return from. Here be darkness, and skeleton popes.

“And you guys wonder why I went into customer service,” said Rose.

“Just want to note that it’s so convenient that your little gossip crew dug up so much dirt so fast,” Edna commented drily. “Almost like they’ve been sitting on said dirt for a while, doing nothing about it until it got inconvenient. Like when it was your turn to get your shipments munched on.”

Edna, unfortunately, always seemed to know how to hit where it hurt. She zeroed in on weak points so easily: Mikleo’s height, Zaveid’s receding hairline, Rose’s sense of justice. Sorey’s heart twisted unhappily at the sight of Rose’s knuckles fisted in the bedspread.

“Kinda feels like that, doesn’t it?” Rose finally said. She lifted her head, wearing a thoughtful expression. “You know, we’d joked for the longest time that we should start invoicing the Hyland knights, since we were doing their jobs for them – upholding the peace and all that. But it seems like we’ve gotten a little lax lately.”

“Rose,” Mikleo said. “It’s not your job to police Hyland’s laws. You can’t take all that responsibility on yourself.

Sorey couldn’t help but sense that comment wasn’t just directed at Rose, for some reason. (Like the fact that Mikleo’s hand found his own when he said it, and squeezed tight.) Still, Rose didn’t exactly seem to take the advice to heart. She jumped to her feet, and set her hands to her hips; a grin plastered to her face.

“It’s a matter of customer service at this point,” Rose said. “The Scattered Bones can’t refuse to investigate a direct request, now can they?”

Sorey blinked. “A direct request? From who?”

“Our friend from last night. Remember? Eight feet tall, big and scary, sharp teeth, loads of arms?”

“I don’t remember him asking anything,” Sorey replied, dubious.

“He definitely didn’t,” Mikleo agreed. “He yelled a bit and then passed out. I’d wager his hellion form was much taller than a mere eight feet, as well.”

“Guys,” Rose groaned. “A little bit of room for interpretation, please. Plus, if this Mardoc guy really is behind this operation, his homebase is probably lousy with malevolence – cleaning that up is right up our alley. So what do you say; wanna do a house-call at Chateau Melwas? It’s on the outskirts of—”

Sorey startled at Rose’s question, suddenly remembering something very important – something absolutely vital. He seized Mikleo’s wrist, urgently.

“Wait! Chateau Melwas. Of course; we only ever saw it written out like that, but of course it’d be owned by House Melwas!”

Mikleo’s eyes went huge, and he seized Sorey’s wrist right back.

“You’re right! It’s only logical. Chateau Melwas, built atop the underground Baudemagus Cathedral. An architectural marvel, built with a mix of Hyland and Rolance techniques to keep its structural integrity. It’s been sealed off for centuries from the public.”

“We could see the archivolts,” Sorey whispered urgently.

“We could see the archivolts,” Mikleo agreed, just as urgently. For just a moment, his gaze grew distant and vacant, as if he was wholly lost in thoughts of archivolts. Sorey could relate. He could so, so relate.

“I know I should be more careful about what I say, but I just don’t ever know what’s going to set them off…” Rose lamented. She looked up at Edna. “Wanna help me find Lailah and Zaveid so we can start brainstorming?”

Edna hopped down from her perch. “I’ll take any opportunity to get out of this room, no matter how unpleasant. Circumstances must.”

They were to infiltrate the chateau of House Melwas, to gather evidence and evaluate the truth of the claims against Lord Mardoc (and admire some archivolts in the process). Luckily for them, they had stumbled upon this mission during a most fortuitous time – Lord Mardoc was opening Chateau Melwas for a masquerade ball. It would be the best chance they’d get to investigate…and, perhaps, the only chance.

To an outside observer, the cards would seem to be stacked in Sorey’s favor. Not only would he have the noise and bustle of the masquerade to hide his movements, but he also had a master assassin and four magical invisible friends to back him up. Surely it would be child’s play for the almighty Shepherd.

Unfortunately, there were a few handicaps in play that evened the odds:

One: Sorey, even at this point in his short career, had become quite recognizable as the Shepherd.

Two: Rose, having a long and storied career as one of the continent’s most successful capitalists, was even more recognizable.

Being that they were famous-slash-infamous, it called for them to attend undercover – after all, if it was discovered that the Shepherd was in attendance, Mardoc would surely rush to dispose of any evidence of his illicit activities, making their entire search fruitless.

Surely a masquerade would make undercover activity simple…if it were not for the final handicap:

Three: Sorey was an absolutely wretched actor, and was sure to give away the game in a matter of seconds.

Thus, this called for a more stealthy infiltration. To this end, they tested out Mikleo’s talents in the safety of their base of operations (being their room at the inn).

“Uh…” Rose frowned, looking Sorey over critically. “I don’t think this is gonna work.”

Sorey was invisible…in some places. One arm, then the fingers of his other hand, and his torso. His right leg blinked back into view, then disappeared again, then slowly regained its opacity once more as the seconds ticked by.

“Just…give me a minute…” Mikleo said through gritted teeth. He was visibly shaking from the effort of keeping up the spell for so long. His skin was even paler than normal, and was beaded with sweat.

Sorey appeared to be torn between the urge to rush over to Mikleo’s side to support him, and the urge to stay in place as firmly instructed by Mikleo at the start of the experiment.

“Mikleo,” Sorey pleaded. “We’ve got backup options, you know?”

“Like what?” Mikleo snapped. He briefly lost his hold on the spell, and Sorey’s torso flickered. “Put a bedsheet over your head and pretend to be ghosts haunting the grounds?”

Rose shivered. “Gonna veto that one. Hard.”

Edna made a sympathetic noise, and patted Rose’s shoulder. “You’re so right, Rose. That’d be so inconsiderate to all the ghosts that probably already haunt that moldy old underground cathedral. Don’t wanna stir them up.”

Rose wailed and immediately retreated under the bed.

Lailah, finally, set a hand on Mikleo’s should and bade him to stop. Exhausted, Mikleo released the spell and leaned heavily on his staff. Sorey rushed over on his reappearing limbs to offer his support, and lead him to sit on the bed that Rose was currently lurking beneath.

“It was well worth attempting, but I must advise overexerting ourselves on this venture,” Lailah said. “Chateau Melwas is well outside of Ladylake’s jurisdiction – and as such, well outside of the reach of Lord Uno’s protective domain. The malevolence is thick here, our powers dampened with it. It would be dangerous indeed to take risks.”

“Back in the day, I’d just…dash up the walls and in through the windows, in and out like a shot…” Sorey heard Rose quietly musing underneath the bed. It seemed like she was mostly talking to herself. “Can’t really do that anymore, can I? Zaveid, he just doesn’t get my style, not like you did…”

Sorey squeezed Mikleo’s shoulder, and tried to get him to catch his eye.

“Rain check on cloak practice?” he asked, hopefully. “Maybe when we’re in a place where the air’s a bit cleaner?”

Mikleo would not, however, catch his eye, and sullenly wriggled his shoulder out of Sorey’s hold. Sorey’s heart sank.

Seeing Mikleo’s already-sour mood, Edna clicked her tongue, ready to make things worse, as usual.

“Why must we bank our hopes on the powers of a single frail Meebo?” she asked. “Just tart Sorey up in something pretty and have him flash the bouncers some leg at the door.”

She clearly did not mean this statement in earnest. She clearly meant it as a joke, as a way to needle Mikleo for being unable to live up to his own unreasonably high standards of personal achievement; to get him riled up enough to stop stewing in self-pity.

But there came a rumble from beneath the bed.

Rose scuttled out from her dark domain on all fours; her hair and eyes wild with inspiration.

“That’s it,” she whispered. “That’s our game. We dress in drag and crash this party.”

This bizarre conclusion at least seemed to break Mikleo out of his sulk. He stared at her, baffled.

“…you’ll do what?”

Rose grabbed Sorey by the shoulder with one hand, and grabbed his chin in the other. She presented him to the rest of the group thusly, very proud of herself.

“I present to you: Lady Soreyella Sparrowfeather, with her dashing older brother, Lord Roseino Sparrowfeather. We are young single nouveau riche siblings travelling the world on our mamá and papá’s dime, looking for fun, excitement, and a suitor who will treat my naïve little sister like the delicate, squishy little cream puff she is.”

“…Okay,” Mikleo said, once he was sure Rose was finished. “Just give me a few minutes and we can try the cloaking arte again. I know that if I can just get a handle on the light refraction, I’ll be able to keep it up for as long as we need…”

Mikleo trailed off. The atmosphere of the room had changed palpably with Rose’s suggestion – it seemed to burn alight with an excitement that tingled the skin. The source of the burning flame was unmistakable: Lailah seemed to almost be hovering above the floor, and was wreathed in a holy aura of light. She clasped her hands together, and lifted them upwards, a prayer to the heavens.

“Splendid,” she whispered. “Oh, how splendid indeed. An undercover mission – not only under the cover of night, but also under cover of the finest finery!”

Mikleo wondered if it would be out of line for him to walk over and tug Lailah back down to have both her feet on the floor. Surely it would be within Sorey’s rights as Shepherd…but what would stop her from arising once more? Would it be better to simply tie a string to her ankle so she didn’t accidentally float away? These questions were all important ones, but they were secondary to the more salient question of the moment:

“Are you forgetting Lastonbell?” Mikleo asked. “Our resident provincial lard? Hello? Oh, not him too…”

Zaveid had joined Lailah in her conference approximately six inches above the flooring, his excitement equally as evident.

“Food, wine, gorgeous sights to see,” Zaveid whispered mistily. “Ladies beckoning with their burning gazes from across the crowded dance hall.”

It was becoming clear that the vote was heading in a certain direction; that direction being “Sorey and Rose crossdressing to crash a party”. Edna smirked at Mikleo and Sorey devilishly.

“Rose’s suggestion really just is so splendid, and the Lady Edna wholeheartedly supports it.” Edna twirled her umbrella as she spoke. “She simply cannot wait to see the Shepherd traipsing about in a shimmering gown and heels, resembling a graceful overdressed cupcake. He will blend right in with the buffet table and remain utterly undetectable. The perfect plan.”

Mikleo gaped at Sorey, speechless. Sorey, for his part, seemed resigned to his fate. He sighed heavily.

“If you guys think it’ll work, I’ll do it,” Sorey said. “But I don’t…I don’t really know anything about, well…any of this. Dancing, and balls, and dressing up…”

Lailah and Zaveid floated over to Sorey, and both took one of his hands in their own, tenderly.

“Fear not,” they spoke in unison. “For we will be at your side.”

“I know,” Sorey assured them. “You always are. But I’ll feel a little, well…out of place…”

Lailah’s grip tightened, and she leaned in, her eyes blazing.

“Please understand, Shepherd Sorey,” she said. “We will be by your side, all of us, in finery as fine as yours.”

Edna’s umbrella stopped twirling. “Excuse me?” she asked flatly.

Zaveid rose several more inches off the floor in his excitement. “You mean…”

“With the powers invested in me by the Lord Maotelus, I decree as Prime Lord that we shall all be disguised in a similar method, alongside the Shepherd and Squire.” Lailah’s voice was clear, commanding – it seemed to echo off the walls of the inn as if the walls were made of the resonant marble of a cathedral instead of ordinary wood. “It is our duty as seraphim to assist the Shepherd in all things, to show solidarity and share in his trials.”

“Pass,” Edna said, then shrieked aloud repeatedly as she was forcibly levitated off the ground to join Lailah and Zaveid.

“Guess you shouldn’t have voted for such a splendid plan if you weren’t willing to participate,” Mikleo wearily commented. He, too, was also being lifted off the ground by an invisible force gripping his capes and dangling him like a scruffed cat.

“Um,” Sorey said. “I really appreciate the company, but…isn’t the masquerade in less than a week? Can we find someone who can make outfits for everyone on such short notice? Especially outfits for, well, someone they can’t even really see…”

Rose threw her arm around Sorey’s shoulder (with some effort, considering the height difference and the fact that she was not currently taking part in the levitation fiesta).

“Sorey, Sorey, Sorey. Are you forgetting who you’re dealing with here?” Rose said. “The Sparrowfeathers have their ways. We just need to hit up this one tailor that owes me a favor or three…”

It was, of course, in Lastonbell that they found this tailor – the city of artisans was home to the most skilled hands on the continent, no matter what the craft. Rose smiled charmingly at the woman who answered the door. The smile was met with a weary stare.

“Ella,” Rose said. “Have I got a project for you.”

Ella slowly tried shutting the door, but Rose wedged her foot in before she could manage.

“Now, now, don’t try to be shy about it; we both know that you’re always excited to do work for me! Like I was saying, I’ve got a project and I just know you’re the only person who can pull it off. Don’t leave me out in the cold, here!”

Ella sighed tiredly. “I’ve told you a thousand times that there’s a limit to what those suits are designed to withstand. A little blood, the sealant can handle. You get sloppy, you get stains.”

Sorey could hazard a guess at how Rose had made the acquaintance of this woman. Rose huffed in irritation.

“Why do you always think I’m here about our suits? I’ve got other stuff on my plate, you know.”

“I also already told you that I can’t make them withstand deep ocean pressure.”

“We can talk about that again later!” Rose muscled her way in through the door, pulling Sorey along behind her. “Right now I need you to make six people look very pretty. Four of them are invisible. Also we’re all crossdressing and in disguise.”

Ella processed Rose’s words, and the situation she was presented. On her worktable, a pencil lifted, and began to sketch fervently on the sketchpad there. After a few moments, the pencil paused, and the sketchpad floated over to present itself to Ella for review. Ella leaned in, squinting through her thick glasses at the designs the phantom pencil had drafted for her. Finally, she shrugged.

“Whatever.” She went to fetch her measuring tape and some paper for notes. “As long as you keep giving me discounts on fabric.”

The day of the masquerade had arrived, and their disguises had arrived to their inn room, not a moment too soon.

“Your tailor friend worked so tirelessly, day and night,” Lailah said with a note of concern, even as she was visibly itching to tear into the carefully-wrapped packages. “I do hope that she didn’t exhaust herself.”

“She gets like that when she’s inspired,” Rose explained. “And it’s not like she did it out of the goodness of her heart. She gets first pick on any of our textile shipments, and every completed commission is a punch on her Scattered Bones loyalty card. Ten punches and she gets a free assassination request.”

The room became palpably awkward. Rose sighed aloud.

“Joking,” she said. “Not about the shipment thing though.”

“We just wonder sometimes…” Mikleo mumbled.

It was the moment of truth. The fashion show of the century. The couture reckoning.

Rose posed with her booted leg on a footrest. She looked sleek, debonair – her fitted suit hid her curves, but could not quite flatten her entirely; giving her a silhouette that would steal the attention of men and women alike. The suit was a reddish-pink the color of the sky at twilight, and the fabric shone and shimmered luxuriously in the candlelight. She looked inarguably well put-together, but had an air of the rogue. Her red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she wore a black handlebar moustache for…some reason.

“A moustache is not a toy,” chided Lailah.

Lailah looked as elegant as ever, and as understated as ever – that was to say, not understated whatsoever. It was a known fact in the study of zoology that the male of a species was very frequently the most glamorously-dressed, and while it was doubtful that Lailah had much interest in the field, perhaps she’d once travelled with someone who did. Or maybe she just saw a peacock one time, and thought, Yes! That is what I want to look like if I ever had to crossdress for a villain’s masquerade ball! Her ruby-red suit’s tails trailed behind her like a bird’s tailfeathers, and the ensemble positively dripped with white lace and golden filigree. Her hair was pulled back into its customary ponytail, but was braided through with red ribbon. Despite her admonishing Rose for moustache crimes, she herself wore a gaudy, dandy top hat atop her head.

“I swear on my last breath that I will smear jam all over this cravat and hide it in your bed at night,” Edna hissed.

Edna…well. Perhaps it was karmic consequence that had landed her in her current outfit, or perhaps it was her complete refusal to work with Ella and pay more than a scornful glance to the outfit designs that Lailah had drafted. She looked like the precious darling scion of a hallowed aristocratic house. She was absolutely drowning in frills and lace, in bows and cravats. Though the design was intended to bring to mind a sailor suit, a rock would have looked more seaworthy.

“You cut a distinguishing figure,” Lailah said sincerely. Rose cackled and twirled her moustache.

Visibly miserable, Edna yanked and tugged at the white stockings that she wore under her bloomers. “I haven’t worn pants in years. If I suffocate tonight I’m going to smear jam all over these tights and—”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it.” Rose twirled her moustache once more for good measure. “Gentlemen, or should I say, gentleladies! You’re up!”

Zaveid’s leg was the first thing that could be seen in the doorway – his bare leg, sporting a gun holster hooked to his garter. He whirled into view, pressing his whole body up against the doorframe, posing like a femme fatale from a trashy stage play. Ella probably did not need to spend much time on his ensemble, considering how…little there was of it. It showcased his entire back, and bared cleavage to the point of obscenity. The sides were slit up to his hips, allowing him to showcase the curve of his ass with very little trouble. Despite the…lack of modesty, he didn’t look bad. It was just…

“I thought we were trying to not call attention to ourselves?” Edna commented flatly.

“You think about how we’d manage that with Zaveid, and you get back to me,” Rose said.

“I’m just…too much…to ignore…” Zaveid said breathily, fluttering his eyelashes on every syllable.

Despite herself, Edna had to give her that one.

“Um,” Sorey’s voice called from the hallway. “Can you guys tell me if I put this on right? I think I’ve got some leftover sashes…”

The group was stunned to silence as Sorey entered the room. It was not as though they expected Sorey to look bad in his disguise. They just didn’t expect him to look this good. Ella had outdone herself. The white bodice, trimmed with blue and gold embroidery, served two important functions: it cinched Sorey’s waist, and pushed up his already fairly large chest to create the illusion of a voluminous bosom. On the other hand, Ella chose not to hide Sorey’s broad shoulders and muscled arms; instead flattering and showcasing them with cutout shoulders and draping sleeves. The blond wig on his head framed his face charmingly; when Sorey gave a shy, awkward smile, those present in the room felt as though a thousand arrows hit their hearts.

“It’s a little tight, you know, in…this area.” Sorey gestured to his honkers. “But I really like the skirts! Did you tell Ella how much I love flappy capes?”

His practice in the armatus gave him the grace and balance to twirl in his heels, allowing the long, flowing skirts to float around him like a princess from a fairytale.

“Your tailor girl’s a magician,” Zaveid said with a note of wonder in his voice. “Man. If she made Sorey look like such a sweet little thing, just think about…”

He trailed off, but everyone knew exactly to whom he was referring. They looked towards the door, on the edge of their seats.

Secretly, everyone really had been looking forward to seeing Mikleo all dolled up—

“Mikleo! Come out, please!” Sorey pleaded. “I wanna see how pretty you look!”

…okay, “secretly” for everyone except Sorey, who was always extremely loud about all things Mikleo. But the fact remained: Mikleo was already stunning enough, with his snow-white skin and striking violet eyes, with his tiny waist and delicate features. Expectations were high, and were only made higher by the clear demonstration of Ella’s skills.

“I took a sneak peek at the dress Miss Ella sent for him,” Lailah sighed aloud as she spoke. “Truly lovely! Mikleo will be a vision in it.”

This assurance only served to heighten the excitement in the room, and served to make Sorey nearly start vibrating in place. They heard a grumble and the sound of footsteps from the hallway, and Mikleo stepped into the room…

…

…well.

“Are you happy now?” Mikleo spat, crossing his arms. That snow-white skin of his was cherry red, from the tips of his ears to his chest.

The dress was indeed beautiful, and was fitted to Mikleo’s envious figure perfectly. His waist, dainty as ever, was only made lovelier by the finely-embroidered and ribboned bodice. The sleeves and skirts flowed like water, shimmering in the room’s candlelight like a pond reflecting the sun. The colors of the fabric complemented his fair complexion perfectly – it was as though a fairy of ice and snow had descended to bless them with a crisp winter’s day.

However, the enchanting effect was seriously spoiled by the sour and uncomfortable look on Mikleo’s face, and the stiffness in the way that he moved. He walked like he was on stilts, and turned in place like he had sacks of barley tied to his hips. It was abundantly clear that skirts and heels did not agree with him on a personal or spiritual level. Putting a beautiful swan in a beautiful dress resulted in something that was less than the sum of its parts. And resulted in a pissed-off swan.

Sorey sighed dreamily, and swept over in his skirts to twirl around the room with Mikleo – Sorey, moving with effortless charm, and Mikleo, moving like a flailing fish.

“You look so great! Doesn’t he!?” Sorey asked the room, though he wouldn’t have heard any answer they gave, so lost he was in their twirling. “If only everyone in that whole ballroom could see you, I bet they’d just look at you and go, ‘wow’…”

At least now Mikleo was pouting, rather than scowling. It made him look marginally more presentable.

“…well, now that the two of us look so dashing,” Rose said, trying to get the subject onto something that wouldn’t horribly offend Sorey. “I think we’re ready to crash that party.”

“As long as our Cupcake Shepherd keeps his mouth shut,” Edna mumbled. She was lying face-down on the inn floor to indicate her displeasure at everything around her.

“Yeah, well, if things go well, Soreyella Sparrowfeather won’t need to do much talking at all,” Rose said. “Roseino will distract all those guests with his charm and tales of adventure, while Soreyella and Miklette slip out to investigate the building and get some evidence of Mardoc’s extracurricular business ventures.”

“Mikleo,” Mikleo harshly corrected. “Will escort Sorey. Without these stupid—pointless—”

In a fit of fury, Mikleo tore off one heeled shoe and threw it across the room. He then hobbled out of the room, one heel still on, grumbling as he lurched back to his own room to find his normal footwear. Sorey gathered up his skirts and hurried after him like a practiced maiden.

The stage was set, and the cast were in costume and ready for their cue. But the question remained: even with evidence at hand, what could be done if Hyland insisted on ignoring the crimes of its nobility?

(Art by Arivess!)

#sormik #sorey/mikleo #suremiku #soremiku #soymilk #tales of zestiria #sormikbb2019 #a tenderly crafted fanfiction

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the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers · 4 years

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Say 'No' To This

Title: Say 'No' To This

Word Count: 786

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Cursing, Mentions of pregnancy, AND DID I MENTION ANGST?!

Ship: The Demon and the Choir Girl (Nero x Myself)

Summary: Upon coming home from my stay with Nico, I was beyond excited to share the news with the man I loved. But upon coming home from a long solo mission it seems that I wasn't Nero's first priority when in need of a break...

Dark irises grew bleary the longer they stared at the scene before them. The sight of Rebecca's hot-headed husband shoving his tongue down the throat of his childhood friend Kyrie, on the now disheveled sofa was enough to send the lavender locked lady into her second bout of sickness for the day. She wanted to scream bloody murder, drop down on her knees and let out the sobs that were strangled in her throat, yet the young lady remained paralyzed as the tears brimmed her eyes. That is until the crystal lakes of her husband finally met with Rebecca's ebony dams and widened at her distraught and subtly swollen form. It was only when the red-handed hunter shoved his doe-eyed mistress onto the loose sofa cushion and begun to call out his wife's name did Rebecca find herself.

Narrowing her dampened eyes and digging her dull nails into her already shaking palm, Rebecca choked out the only words she could think of before making her exit, "You motherfucker!"

Not wanting to hear the already broken promises and hollowed pleas of devestation that Nero shouted while he hurried off and over the mangled evidence of his love-making, Rebecca hastily turned on her heel and ran out of the house they both shared. Luckily for the distressed woman, her friend's RV that had dropped her at home still sat on the road in front of the cozily paved walkway.

Slamming open the metal door with enough force to subtly shake the van, Rebecca scurried inside before slamming it shut again.

"Hey, hey! I know yer excited over the news but can ya not take it out on my ride?!" Nico began to scold, expecting to see Rebecca along with her ivory haired husband when she turned around in the cream leather driving seat. But when her mockingly angered expression caught the sight of only the small lady with tears freely running down her reddened cheeks, her tone became hushed in concern. "What's wrong? Was the tough guy in a bad mood and not take the news well?"

"I didn't even tell him!" Rebecca cried, lifting her face from her increasingly wet hands. "He was fucking cheating with Kyrie, of all people!"

With furrowed brows, Nico strode over to her crumpled friend and crouched down in front of her. "Becca, hun, yer sure ya didn't just misread the context of the situation? The two of 'em are basically siblings and Nero is obsessed with you!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure siblings don't kiss with tongue... Unless someone forgot to tell me they were from some fucked up anime." Rebecca answered with a laugh stained in bitterness.

Nico's animated features completely flat-lined to a neutral expression while she blinked a few times to process Rebecca's morbid joke. All she could manage upon getting some grasp of understanding was a low whisper, "Oh my gawd, I am sorry sweetheart, I'm gunna kill him."

"No, don't bother, I brought this on myself." Rebecca whimpered, wrapping her trembling arms around her friend for some form of comfort. "I knew he liked her. I knew this! But I still made the mistake of marrying him, the mistake of accepting his confession and hoping he'd love me the way I love him... I was the idiot and now I'm pregnant with his kid! A kid he probably doesn't even want, he probably won't even want me now that he has his true love!"

While Rebecca continued her self-deprecating rant and Nico made futile attempts in providing comfort, Nero stood just outside with his claws wrapped around the smooth, metal door handle just about to barge in. As strong as his grip was on the handle, the powerful part-demon didn't possess the strength to even turn it. He was too fixated on the mournful murmuring inside to move yet again. Hearing the love of his life list off some of the happiest moments of his life as her mistskes made his heart shoot his heart right into his constricting throat and left his stomach doing sickly somersaults. When he heard the announcement of his wife's pregnancy and her already deep-rooted beliefs that he didn't want anything to do with it left Nero wanting to let Nico run him down in the van. Everything inside was screaming at him to storm in there and scoop up Rebecca to explain and comfort her with the fact that there was nothing more in the world he wanted than to raise a family with her as his always accepting angel. Though even the somewhat dense demon knew that without making ammends, his angel would never understand why he didn't say no to this...

#selfshipdom #self shipping #selfship community #self insert #self insert community #ship: the demon and the choir girl #selfshipping #self indulgent stuff #musical prompt #au #pregnancy #angst imagine #a lot of angst #selfinsert community #self ship community #self shipping community

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

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What do you usually eat for breakfast? Scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese. And coffee, duh. When was the last time you seen your best friend? I see my mom everyday, all the time since we live together. What was the last good movie you watched? I recently rewatched Endgame and Aladdin (the new live action one), both of which are really good. Especially Endgame. Still gets me in the feels. Do you rent movies at a store or on your tv? We sometimes rent from Redbox (the red box thingies with DVDs at grocery stores. I think there’s also Bluebox, too, in some places), but usually we watch on Netflix or rent from Amazon Prime. Have you ever thought about getting Netflix? We’ve had it for years. What do you order on your sundae? I haven’t had a sundae in years, but I liked to just get vanilla ice cream with strawberry syrup. I don’t care for sprinkles. Do you like whipped cream and nuts on it? I like whipped cream and some nuts in general, but I didn’t put either one on my sundaes. *shrug* I’m a simple gal.

How often does your family have cookouts? We did them a lot when I was a kid. My dad used to BBQ quite a bit during the summer and my extended family all got together for BBQs quite often as well. We haven’t done that in years, though. Does anybody in your family have cancer? My papa and one of my cousins both had skin cancer, but they’re fortunately both in remission. What is one genre of music you refuse to listen too? I don’t outright refuse any, but I don’t like techno/EDM/Clubhouse music type stuff. Who is your favorite singer? I don’t have one particular favorite. There are many artists and bands that I enjoy. What is the title of the last book you read? It’s still Burying the Honeysuckle Girls by Emily Carpenter, which has been my answer for months now. I keep meaning to start reading again, but it hasn’t happened, yet. I go through phases where I read a lot and knockout several books and then go awhile without reading at all. I love to read, so I don’t know what my issue is. Do you even read? I do, I just haven’t the last few months. Is your Bzoink account profile decorated? I don’t have one. If so, what’s the backround of? Do you drink Mcdonalds sweet tea? I used to. I haven’t had it in probably almost 10 years, though. Do you like melted cheese on your eggs? Yessss. What do you eat on your popcorn? Butter and salt are absolute musts. Also, this one theater I go to has garlic parm seasoning stuff that is SO good. What do you do on a sunny day? I don’t do anything different, I just do them while complaining about being hot and feeling miserable from the heat. I’m not a summer or outdoorsy person. Do you moisturize everyday? No, but I really should. How long does it take you to get ready for your day? If I’m going somewhere then I just fix my hair (or throw on a hat), brush my teeth, change my clothes, put on deodorant, and put on my shoes. Bam. Done. I very, very rarely bother with makeup anymore or doing anything with my hair other than braid it, put it in a pony tail, throw a hat/beanie on. Do you ever have lazy days? Everyday? But honestly, it’s more that I don’t have energy or motivation to do much of anything. I own up to the fact that I can be lazy, but that’s not the main reason. It seems like laziness on the surface, but it’s deeper than that. Is your bedroom clean right now? It’s a little cluttery right now and it’s driving me nuts. I need to find the energy and motivation to clean up a bit and get rid of some stuff. That’s my main issue with my room I just have too much stuff and not enough space for it. What is one simple word that you usually can never spell? I don’t know if it’s considered “simple”, but for some reason I can’t ever get “omnepoenia” on the first try. <<< That’s my attempt and it’s way off lol. “Onomatopoeia“ is how you spell it. I don’t know why I can’t seem to remember that. I guess maybe because it’s a word I never use except for when I’m asked this question, ha. Do you flip the pillow over for the cold side? Yeah. Do you always have to sleep with a blanket? I haven’t used a blanket most of this summer. What are some things you do before you go to bed? Listen to ASMR and do some surveys. Do you like late night phone conversations? I don’t like talking on the phone at all. Does your room have a blacklight? No. What color are your walls? White. Do you heat up your syrup when you have pancakes or do you like it cold? I just pour it right from the bottle. It doesn’t taste cold to me, but maybe that’s cause the pancakes are the warm. What do ever add anything to your pancakes/waffles? Just butter and syrup. What is your favorite candle scent? Autumnal ones. Are you on any types of medication right now? Just a pain medication. Have you ever suffered from depression? I do suffer from depression and have since I was about 12 or 13. It’s definitely been at its absolute worst these past 4 years. On average, how many surveys do you think you take a day? A lot. haha. Ya’ll already know. Does your town have flea markets? Yeah. What is your favorite sport? None. Do you like to talk on the phone? Nope. Who do you text the most? I rarely text at all, but when I do it’s with one of my parents or my brother. Are you out of school yet? I graduated college back in 2015. Are you watching anybody graduate this year? No. What are your school colors? What makes you smile more than anything? My doggo. If you could change one thing about the past, what would you change? So many things... If you could only eat one thing every single day what would it be? I’ve had a sandwich everyday for lunch for the past 3 months. Do you like spicy things? I used to be obsessed, but I can’t eat spicy foods anymore. D: Do you ever go to Starbucks? Yeah, pretty often. What is the most expensive thing you own? My laptop. What kind of car do you drive? I don’t drive. How long have you had your license? I don’t have my license. What grades do you usually get? I got As and Bs. Do you swim or lay out when your at the beach? I just relax and soak it all in. I love just looking out at the ocean or closing my eyes while listening to the waves crash in. Do you ever get drunk with friends? I used to. I don’t drink anymore, though. It’s been 6 years since the last time. What was the craziest moment of your life? There’s been a few of those moments I’d say. Have you ever spent the night in a hospital? Yeah. I’ve had to stay a few months in the hospital. Is love really that hard to explain? I have a hard time really explaining it. It’s just something I know and feel, but have a hard time putting into words. Describe what your wearing tomorrow: Probably the same thing I’m wearing now, ha. Describe the weather right now. It’s currently 75 F with 12mph winds. If you were having a baby boy, what would you name him? I’m not having children. What is your favorite cuss word? I don’t have a favorite. Do you have a mannnnn? Nope. If so, what’s hiiiis name? Oh by the way, what’s yours? Stephanie. What is on your feet right now? Socks. Do you hate your feet or are they cute? I don’t like them. What does your room look like? It’s a bit cluttery right now. There’s also a lot of giraffe stuffed animals around the room, ha. Do you ever stick your leg out of the blanket when you sleep? I do that with my arms. Do you have any tattoos? Nope. Are you patient or impatient? I’m very impatient. Everybody has that one friend who really isnt there friend, who is yours? I don’t have any friends. Do you ever hang out with somebody just for a ride? No. What time do you wake up in the morning usually? Lately it’s been 10ish, sometimes 11. What is the first thing you do when you wake up? Check the time. Do you eat right away or do you have to wait awhile? No it takes like an hour for me to finally drag myself outta bed for coffee. Then I like to just drink my coffee, read my daily devotional, and check social media for awhile first before I eat. Who makes you smile, no matter what? My doggo. What do you do when your sad? So what do I do everyday: Tumblr, surveys, watch TV, watch YouTube, check social media, sleep... Reading, coloring, listening to music, and playing my Nintendo Switch get thrown into the mix sometimes as well. Where do you spend most of your time? In my room on my bed. Do you ever watch scary movies by yourself? Yeah. It’s so funny because a few short years ago I would never. Like, I wasn’t even really into scary movies because I was a big scardy cat. That changed in recent years; though, and now I love ‘em. Do you drink energy drinks? Just Starbucks Doubleshot. Describe what’s on your floor right now. A stack of some medical supplies. Do you have any pets? Yes, I have a doggo. If so, what are they doing right now? She’s sleeping on her couch. Is there anybody in the room with you? Nope. Do you like chicken snack wraps from Mcdonalds? I’ve never had one. Do you drink coffee fraps? [yuck] I like frappes, but it’s been awhile since I’ve had one. Where are you from? California. Have you ever moved? To a different city for a short time when I was a baby, but that’s it. If you mean houses, then I’ve moved like 4 or 5 times, but only once that I’m old enough to remember. What is your favorite youtube video? I have a lot. ok, 90 questions .. is that enough? Sure. Siiiiike, I foooled you - Can you take a joke? I’m not bothered by the fact there’s not 90 questions so yeah I don’t care. What is your favorite song from the 90’s? I have many. If you could meet any celeb who would it be? Alexander Skarsgard. Which celeb would you like to smack in the face? I don’t want to smack anyone. Lady Gaga : creep or badass Why would she be considered a creep? lol. Anyway, I like some of her music and she seems pretty cool. Do you have a poker face? In certain situations. Have you ever played texas hold em - If so, did you like it? I’ve never played. What do you do to pass the time when your bored? I’ve already listed recently all the things I do each day and it’s the same whether I’m bored or not. Are you ever bored or are you easily entertained? I get bored, but generally I’m content doing my usual things I do each day. Somedays; though, even those things just don’t cut it and the days seem to drag extra slow and I’m not in the mood to do anything at all. Which friend is most like you? I don’t have any friends. Do you have a lot of things hanging on your wall? I have a few things. Do you think your pretty or ugly? rate yourself 1-10. I think I’m pretty ugly. ha. Because, you know every guy is looking for a dime piece, right? Not every guy is only concerned with looks. Was you a ugly kid back then but banging now? I thought I was a cute kid until middle school. HA, I’m definitely not “banging” now. Are you a rude bitter person? I can certainly be bitter. Sometimes I do get short or snippy when I’m in my moody moods, but I wouldn’t say I’m a rude person in general. What color is your house phone? One is white and the other is black. Do you have a answering machine if so, what does it say? Yeah. It’s just one of the automated ones that was already programmed on there. How do you like your toast? Browned, but not burnt, with butter. How many candles are in the room that your in? 4. That’s a lot for someone who never lights candles lol. Does your bedroom have a computer in it? Yep, this laptop right here that I’m on. What color is the computer your using right now? It’s silver with a rose gold protective case. What is your favorite muffin? Banana (without the nut), blueberry, and lemon poppyseed.

Do you ever drink kool-aid? I did when I was a kid. Do you consider yourself healthy? No. Do you take all your vitamins daily? No. I’m supposed to... What is something you use everyday besides a bathtub etc? My laptop. How many times do you brush your teeth a day? Once. Do you think you have a pretty smile? No. Are you confident? No. Well, I am pretty confident and this survey is over :) Okay.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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flyinghetfield · 7 years

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Chapter 2 is done! I hope you guys like it!

For the next month you practice with everything you got on the violin that you received from you father before he passed away. Your father was once quite famous for playing the violin and well respected in the classical community as a master in the art. So when you decided to pick up the instrument and take after your fathers foot steps, you could feel overwhelming support from people who knew your dad but also judgement to see if you could meet his standards. Everyday you made sure to hit every note cleanly and sharp for each Metallica song wanting to show not only the haters that you could pull this off but to also show Metallica itself just how much you understood their music and to show them that you can play their music even if its not on some big crunchy guitar. You feel nervous before walking into the recording session with the symphony as this was your first time really doing something this massive with a organisation this big. Waving at a few of the sound crew, you walk on stage you and notice Eric sitting next to his cello stretching his fingers out and slowly wander over to him.

”Hey Y/N. Today is the big day. Ready to blow these Metallica guys out of the water with our awesome classical skills?” ”They won’t know what hit em.” You grin. ”Atta girl.” Suddenly Eric looks over at where the older members are sitting and motions you to come in closer. ”The old ducks aren’t taking it to well though.” Your eyebrow lifts up. “The main crone-” He motions to Catherine “Has been complaining non stop for the past 10 minutes.” Eric’s voice then becomes very high, mimicking her “Ohh my fingers. How are we meant to play this-” He picks up the music sheets with two fingers and makes a disgusted face. “-when this evil band is pushing my arthritis to my limits! Ohh and my ears! Their music is too loud!” You try not to laugh and shake your head as Eric throws his hands up dramatically and pretends to faint. ”Stop it you!” You hiss. “They have been here a lot longer than us and you’ll get us in trouble with them, then all of sudden we will be out of the union!” ”Oh my” He covers his mouth “What ever will we do without our 10 minute piss breaks every 5 minutes” ”If you can hold your urine in for more than 2 hours while playing this type of music Mr. Parker, I will have to applaud you.” You spin around to see Kamen standing there with a smile on his face and can hear Eric suddenly sitting up a little straighter behind you. ”Oh sorry sir. We were just jesting.” You turn to look at him and see him slightly embarrassed. That was one thing about Eric, when you two first met he was so shy he could hardly spit out a few sentences here and there. It wasn’t until you ran into each other one night while going to a local music scene that he started to open up. Well it also helped that he was drunk out of his mind and you let him crash at your house that night, that’s beside the point, now Eric wouldn’t shut up when around you but you didn’t mind since he always knew how to make you laugh and feel good, as well it was good to have a friend in the orchestra.

”It’s alright, Eric was it?” Eric quickly nods. ” I understand for you two this will be your first time performing one of my pieces.” ”Sure is.” You said with a grin on your face. “And we get to play with Metallica first up, so I’m double excited.” Kamen laughs and sits down in the seat in front of you guys. ”I’m happy that your so eustatic for this Y/N.” Looking around he leans in a little.

“To be reasonable you might be the only one, besides myself of course.” You are a little taken back by that.

”What no one liking the music you made?”

”Not that they dislike it”

Eric coughs “Crones”

Kamen glances at him then lowers his voice a little more “It’s just a bit more intense from what they are use to.”

You nod. I mean you understood why, Metallica’s songs weren’t the easiest to perform and even you yourself was finding some of the time patterns hard to keep up with in a few of their songs at the start.

”But it will be good for the older ones I do believe, give them something fun and jolting to play than just the usual long boring notes.”

”Oh god you do have hospital cover here don’t you?” Eric suddenly blubbers out. Kamen and you look at him questionably. ��You know they are old. Some of them might -” Eric suddenly mimics choking and passing out in his chair. Putting your hand on your face you can’t help but laugh and is surprised to hear Kamen laughing as well.

”We will make sure to keep some paramedics around on site on the nights of the performance Mr.Parker.”

“Just looking out for your liability sir.” Eric very seriously whispers back, which makes Kamen laugh again. Kamen then glances down at your violin in your hand.

”I must say I was a bit surprised to see your name on the symphony list, Y/N. I know your father was well respect in these parts and I’m honoured to have you on our team as well.” You nod back at Kamen, not really wanting to bring up your father since it made you even more on edge.

”Thank you. It took a little while to get here but I am happy to be on this amazing team of musicians.”

”Ahh you will do splendidly I know of it.” Eric pats your arm in reassurance, he also knew how much it bothered you when people started comparing both your father and yourself.

”Well.” Kamen stands and looks around. “Seems like everyone is almost here. Lets have some fun with this hey guys?”

Looking back at Eric a wicked grin appears on your face.

”Lets do this”

3 hours and a lot of sweat later. You sit in your chair stretching out your now sore and very red fingers. ”Here.” Eric walking back from the kitchen tosses you a cold bottle of water which you quickly skull down.

“So what you think, reckon we are going to blow them out of the water?”

”Eric.” You look him right in the eyes. “They won’t know what hit them.”He starts to laugh and collapses down in the seat next to you.

”Your going to have to carry me and my cello out of here ok.” He puts his head on your shoulder and yawns.

”You used your arms not your legs dummy.”

”Yes well, I’m still very tired and want to be carried out of here by a pretty lady like in that movie..”

“An officer and a lady? and it was the Officer that carried the girl”

”Yeah that one.” Ignoring your remark he yawns again.

”I get to wear the Officer suit though yeah?”

”Of course and we will put my cello in the dress.”

”Deal” You chuckle. The past 3 hours had been hard and there had been a few times where everyone had to stop and redo a song cause someone broke a sting or couldn’t keep up with the faster pace songs but Kamen was very understanding which made the whole experience go a lot smoothly. Even the old croons had a smile on their face by the end of it all which amused you.

”Hey.” Eric snaps you out of your thoughts

”Yeah?”

”Who’s Kamen talking to over there?” Eric points out towards the crowd seats. You squint and finally locate Kamen standing and talking to a shorter gentlemen. He was wearing a white long sleeved T-shirt and dark jeans and kept running his fingers through his short dark hair, nodding and making some wild animated motions with his hands.

”Is he wearing sunglasses inside as well? Who is this guy?” You could hear the eyeroll in Eric’s voice.

Why does he look so… Suddenly he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and you couldn’t help but gasp.

”What?” Eric now sitting up straight looks at you and then back the the man. “Y/N. Don’t go gasping like that! Who the heck is it?”

”I…Its..” You can’t believe it! What was he doing here? Suddenly feeling like a fish out of water, you take Erics half drank water and skull that down too before speaking again.

”It’s Lars!” You hiss at Eric, leaning waay over the the side of your chair to get a better look at the drummer.

”Lars?” Eric looks back at him. “Lars..lars..” He mutters “Oh! OH! The drummer yeah?” You can feel your head bounce up and down profusely. He’s here! Lars fucking Ulrich! You could walk down and shake his hand and tell him how much his band means to you and how in love with all of them you are and how much you wanted to marry all of them when you were 14. Whoa wait. Get a grip Y/N. Don’t want to come off as a bat shit crazy fan.

”Hellllo world to Y/N” Eric was shaking you lightly. You blink a few times and glance back Eric.

”Hmm?”

”I don’t want to alarm you or anything but uhh -” He nods towards a now walking Kamen and Lars. Walking towards Eric. And you. A slight squeek escapes your lips as they get closer and closer.. No. No. No. NO. I’M NOT READY FOR THIS. I HAD A WHOLE THING OF HOW I WAS GOING TO MEET THEM! I’M ALL SWEATY AND GROSS, MY HAIR IS DEFINFETLY OUT OF PLACE AND I’M NOT WEARING MAKE-UP. THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!

”….introduce to two of our youngest members in the Symphony.” Kamen grins as Lars and him stop infront of you. Seeing Lars now up close you can feel yourself start to blush. Photos do no justice for the Danish drummer and you cant help but stare at him. He glances at you and his eyes linger for a few extra seconds before going back to Eric. “This is Eric Parker, apart of our Cello group-” Lars quickly cuts in.

”Cello? If you like this type of music you should definitely listen to this Finnish group called Apocalyptica. They do some amazing stuff with Cello’s” Grinning he shakes Eric’s hand.

”I’ll keep that in mind.” Eric shyly smiles.

”And here this here is Y/N, one of our fastest and brightest Violin players.” You blush a little more at that statement, not liking the attention on yourself. Lars looks at you with more interest.

”Well then, we know the woman to call then if we need to add some more classical stuff to our songs.” He suddenly puts on a charming smile. “It will also make the band a hell of a lot prettier as well, if I knew back in high school that there was hot Violin players in music class I wouldn’t of skipped it so often.” Winking at you, he extends his hand for you to shake. Blushing profusely now you shake it, hoping to god your hand wasn’t super clammy and he wouldn’t be disgusted by it.

”Lars was saying how much he liked the performance” Kamen looked at us with a smile. You could see the relief in his face and just realised about how much this would of taken a toll on him to make, it wasn’t just hard on the symphony players but on the conductor as well.

”Liked? LIKED?” Lars shot his hands up. “I LOVED IT! Kamen you knocked this one of of the park” Running his hand through his hair he shook his head. “I can’t believe you made our crazy songs into something so gracious and beautiful! I mean-” He walks over and picks up one of the music sheets sitting on a stand. “-Seeing all of this and hearing it as well! If you told 20 year old me that we would be doing this type of stuff I would of laughed at you.” You can’t help but grin like a fool at the excitement in Lars voice, he was like a little Kid who just received a giant Christmas gift and it was spilling not only on to you but everyone around as well. Suddenly you can hear a ringing noise coming from Lars direction. ”Ah shit. Can you guys excuse me for a moment I need to take this.” You watch as Lars walks off, talking animatedly into the phone. Wow that T-Shirt fits him really well. You can’t help but admire his back muscles as the appear and disappear from under his shirt as he throws his hand around. I wouldn’t mind putting some claw marks in that. You shake your head at the thought and see Eric giving you a questionable look. ”…I TOLD THEM TO PUSH IT BACK! …… YES, OK, FINE! Give me an hour.” You can see him hang up his phone and walk back to where you guys where. ”Sorry Kamen, I’ve got a interview to rush off to.” Lars sighs putting his sunglasses back on.

”That’s alright Lars. Now that the recording is done I’ll get my sound guys to meet up with your guys and get the mixing of it under way. I’ll be dropping by in the next week as well to get everything started with you guys.”

”Sounds like a plan Kamen. It was nice to meet you Eric.” He shakes his hand again then turns to you with a smile. ”Same with you Y/N. You will have to show me how fast you can play that violin one day. I would love to see you and James keep up with each other.”

”If he can keep up, sure.” Your smile grows wider when you hear Lars laugh.

”That sounds like a challenge. I’ll make sure to relay it back to him.”

”I’ll walk you out Lars. See you two later ok?” Kamen nods towards us.

You both nod and watch as Lars says his final goodbyes to a few other people.

“Wow did that just happen?” You look at Eric excitedly, you just met one of the members of Metallica and didn’t pass out.

”Well it was going to happen at some point and who knew that drummer boy would take a shining to Violin girl.” You look at him befuddled. “What? It was clear he was hitting on you girl!” You stand shaking your head.

”Your crazy Eric, he was just being nice.”

”Yeah right. The way he was looking at you he was thinking other nice things about you woman.”

“He’s a married man!”

”Just because he’s tied down, doesn’t mean he can’t window shop.”

You snort at that statement and proceed to grab your things. Following you out to your car Eric suddenly stops you.

”Hey, You know I was only joking back there right?” Sighing, you nod. “Good. Anyway if any of these Metallcats were to fall for you, they will need to get through me first cause I ain’t letting my main guurl go.”

You bring Eric into a tight hug. What did I do to deserve this guy?

”Ain’t going any where Mr.Parker.” You muffle into his chest.

”Damn straight your not. Well actually you should go somewhere-” Taking a step back with his arms extended onto your shoulders he scrunches up his nose. “-It’s called a Bathroom, has this magical thing called a shower-” You attempt to swipe at him but he holds you back.. Both laughing you say your goodbyes and you jump into your car. Resting your head back on the car seat you think about the rest of the night. A good shower, greasy take-away food and then a date. With my bed. Smiling at the day you had, you can’t wait for the next few weeks to hurry up just so you can see Lars again and meet the other members. As you leave the parking lot you throw on a Metallica CD and sing your heart out all the way home.

#mywriting #little longer than the last one #newbie writer right here #long post

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semenguine · 6 years

Text

hey fuck you gary this memory isn’t yours and u cannot have it

we’re all in the bathroom, climbing out of our elegant, layered outfits, unclasping necklaces, peeling off sheer tights, zipping down dresses, and slinking into sexy little costumes, one-piece, two-piece things. sheer bits and windows and lace. collars and fishnets, cute little pompommed heels. i take my blush and my makeup brush and fluff a pretty little drunk flush onto my face.

someone helps me with the laces of my corset. it somehow gives my teeny titties some cleavage. i slip into my other pair of heels, and put on my small fake angel’s wings and a snowy white velvet choker to go with my velvet heels.

i look at sam and her beautiful violet lids and her high updo. her nails are stiletto and a sheer baby pink and bejewelled. she was the first to notice my nails, long and flashy brilliant gold. samantha is the kind of person who would have confused the hell out of younger me. she’d really get me spiralling into the do i want to be with her or be her? she touched my nails when she first saw them and went hmmmm. and then she winked at me and got me a drink ( margarita, virgin. )

anyway i go out and sit. there’s a lot to take in. i’m seeing sexy cops, sexy sailors, sexy werewolves, shirtless butches, toned abs, very tight-crotched pants. i make some sort of stupid lustful sound and melanie giggles at me. i clasp my hands and cross my legs and try to remain relatively virtuous. this gets a little more difficult when i look up and catch eden’s eye at some point. she’s shirtless and she’s actually gone and oiled herself up. her muscles are all shiny and just .. hot. she’s wearing very tight leather shorts. i can see her ass and the muscles in her legs and she’s packing something substantial. her devil horn headband somehow makes her hair look all windblown and sexy. i bite my lip. we check each other out for a bit, and then she turns back to her friends.

this is a lot, i say. ain’t it just wonderful, sam says. i want those baby butches to come over here, izzy says. so look sexy, ladies. we all assume attractive and bored positions until they wander over. they flirt with us, albeit a little clumsily. we like the attention. then i see eden start to come over, and she’s puffing out her chest. uh oh, i mumble.

hey, what’s the big idea? that’s my femme, you don’t see the ring on her finger? eden postures and preens. she’s probably been waiting a long time to do this. she’s kinda drunk. her voice has got a little swing to it. really.. i start. the baby butch talking to me looks intimidated even though eden is short and drunk and dressed like a male stripper. i don’t have to say anything more, because rue says, oh, ignore her, everyone’s a little hot under the collar for sierra and eden never shares. there are a few incited howls of agreement at this. it’s alright kid, she says, clapping her on the back a few times.

damn right i never share, eden crows. that’s my femme. hey, terrance pipes up. look at sierra’s claws. eden doesn’t take it up the ass anymore! they erupt with noise and applause and laughter. eden yells SHUT UP MOTHERFUCKERS and stands there looking like she would like to fight but can’t properly pick out who she should be fighting. hey! she says, squaring in on jess, who is the cutest drunk i’ve ever seen in my life. you! motherfucker!

oh my god, lauren says. we watch. eden playfully wrestles jess. her muscles ripple as they tussle. honk honk, bastard, jess says. she squeezes eden’s nipple. WH, eden’s eyes widen a comical amount, her hands fly up to cover her pects. that hurt! she squeals. jess mimics her squeal. eden tackles her. it’s more of a hug. hi buddy! slurs jess.

there’s enough alcohol in all of ‘em combined to start a whole new bar, samantha jokes. i am going to say something, then, you look hot, sierra, bessie says. hey baby. she kisses sam, who looks pleased. the kiss turns kind of handsy, i look away and stare at eden intensely hoping she might turn around and give me a handsy kiss too. i’m beyond bothered, i’m making a big dumb mess of myself and the poor chair. people start to settle down. the baby butch has long since realized it was all a performative big deal and is looking at me. i smile at her, turn my head. stare at eden some more. she and jess are just hugging it out, i look away and rub my thighs together. you could tell me i was sitting in a puddle and i’d believe you.

i sigh and put my head down sleepily. i kind of drift off. i start having a truly filthy wet dream. hey, wake up, rue pats me on the back. i startle. what time is it? there’s fear in my voice. it’s only been about 5 minutes, rue says. oh, i am relieved. rue sizes me up. you look like you need some attention, she says. i feel my face grow warm. oh, eden wouldn’t, i start. eden, rue calls. mind if i take care of your girl for you?

wh, yeah, i mind, eden blurts out. sorry, sweetheart, rue pats my head. i put my head back down, disappointed. i think eden stares at me. mm, i guess. i change my mind. alright, eden says, thoughtfully. i look up a little. she’s looking at me. i wanna watch. whaaat? pussy, jess says. eden punches her in the arm. you sure? says rue. yeah i’m sure, eden says. wait, bessie says. wait.. wait! can i..? she looks at sam. sam shrugs. if eden sierra and rue say it’s fine, i don’t see why not. bessie looks at eden, who says, yeah, okay, and rue says ask sierra, and i nod, kind of embarrassed but also very excited. rue, bessie, jess, alex, max, jackie, and the baby butch that liked me so much, her name is sarah, eden says they can have their way with me so long as she is the last one to make me cum.

i feel a little self-conscious because people are quietish as they listen to us work out the details and i’m also not sure if they’re going to fuck me in front of everyone or where exactly we’ll go to do this. my god i’d die to be you right now, melanie whispers in my ear. i can’t even believe this is happening. rue scoops me up in her arms. i glance back at the chair. there is a visible moist patch on it. it’s made out of a plasticky like thing anyway. so i figure it will dry.

you sure about this? rue asks. i nod. you nervous? a little bit, i confess. she carries me into the bathroom. don’t be, she strokes the nape of my neck. we’ll take good care of you. won’t we? she raises her voice. there are murmurs of assent. i am ripe with anticipation. alright, rue says. one rule. think with your brains, not with your cocks. this includes listening to the lady and being respectful and mindful of each other.

i don’t have a brain, max jokes. leave then, says rue flatly. anything to add, eden? eden is silent for a moment, thinking. all her sweet spots are on top and at the back, she says. she hasn’t got any on the sides. i don’t know if i will ever stop flushing. it’s all about that curve, then, jess says. that stroke, sarah jokes shyly. jess whoops loudly to encourage her. that STROKE!

you think you’ll need lube, sweetheart? rue asks me nicely. she strokes my hand. no, i say honestly. she chuckles. alright, she says. she removes my wings and then starts to undo the laces of my corset. her hands are warm and soft and strong and tender against me all at once. i shiver with want. rue is decidedly our alpha butch. first of all, she started the whole gala. she blossomed in the early 80s, managed to hit the butch/femme scene at 14 or 15 or something like that even though we’d since been driven underground, got taught by butches from the 60s. she’s 46. and MILFy. and her commanding energy is effervescent. and she is undressing me.

everything is placed deliberately and carefully to the side. she puts a hand on my hip and tugs down my fishnets. she’s careful not to rip them. and then she peels my white thong off me and tugs it down. i can feel the cool wetness on my legs. my fishnets and thong stay bunched around my ankles. i am naked.

she beckons the others closer, they cluster around me, i kneel. they look at me with desire. eden watches. rue zips down her pants and the others follow suit. sarah looks nervous, i smile at her. the air is kind of cool, it teases me. i press my legs together and then spread them a little so somebody can take me from behind. you ready? rue asks. i nod.

this is the moment of the photograph: rue roughly grabbing a fistful of my hair and beginning to sharply pull my head down towards her cock, me with my panties down round my ankles, eyes half closed, mouth open, my limbs pulled defensively inwards, bessie, jackie, and sarah looking at me with hungry predatory animal eyes, jess, alex, and max roughly fighting for who gets to own me, eden’s uncaring reflection in the mirror.

but this is the moment: rue gently takes a fistful of my hair and guides my head down to where we both want it to be. i am chronically unable to suck dick with my mouth open so i’m already closing my eyes. i’m kinda cold, it’s a little chilly in the bathroom and we haven’t really got going yet so i pull myself inwards trying to keep warm. my friends are drunk and horny and excited. before any of them penetrate me they say is this okay? jess asks me if i’d like some water. you’re sure this is fine, you’re sure? alex frets and fusses. max tells me i’m pretty, and eden makes a sort of YOLO face moments before sitting down and slipping a hand into her pants.

male violence my ass. they are so careful with me. i tell them they can be rougher and they ask me if i’m sure a billion times. they are adorably tender with sarah, who is very shy, and a bit clumsy about the whole thing. and when i suck her off, i admittedly give her a little special treatment just because i want this to be memorable for her.

i’m leaking fluids down the inside of my left thigh and they wind up pooling beneath my left knee. at some point it all becomes an indistinguishable erotic circle of dicks. i hardly recognize whose is whose. i suck if it if it gets put in front of my face, and i don’t bother trying to recognize by the feel of the hand on my hip who’s behind me anymore. i actually don’t recognize my own moaning as mine for a little bit.

i am in heaven. but when my voice starts to rise in ecstasy, they all step back. i am cut short, i shuffle my legs, frustrated. then a familiar sensation, eden’s hands, steady and sure on both of my hips. hi angel, she whispers in my ear. her breath is very warm, i shudder and mewl and press into her. she pushes into me and i moan. yes, i gasp. yeah? she rubs and grips my ass slowly and tenderly, it feels so intimate. it both embarrasses and arouses me that the others are watching.

please eden please, i say, legs trembling. eden, eden. she thrusts once, deep and slow. is this what you want? she asks. i gush a little. adjust my legs, trying to feel it deeper. faster, i gasp. please. oh lord, jackie says breathlessly. oh hey, what’s this? eden brushes a finger over my swollen clit. hahhh, i jerk sharply. eden! she plays with my clit absently, i am so slick and wet she’s slipping and sliding. pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease i whimper. pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease and then eden starts thrusting, rubbing my clit with a passion.

my voice rises, my legs shake violently, it’s like i’m singing. everything kinda buzzes and shakes. all across my vision field are splashes of bright, vivid colour. i crumple, someone catches me and holds me, someone’s stroking my hair, eden pulls out and someone starts fingering me slowly, easing me down from my climax. i’ve never orgasmed quite like that before. hey, rue kneels and rubs my shoulder. i make a weird noise. a sort of nyghah, she smiles at me. thank you, she says. oh man, yeah, thank you sierra, jess says, she’s the one holding me. thank you, sierra, whispers sarah, she’s the one who caught me. bessie rubs my thigh appreciatively, thanks sierra, she’s got her hand between my legs.

they all thank me. and even though i really cannot speak english at that point, i smile with an abstracted pleasure and i giggle. my vision still explodes with bright, beautiful colour for all the things i am feeling. bessie retracts her fingers after a few more moments. not worth it putting this back on, says rue, she takes my thong and puts it in my hand. i close my hand around it. alex helps rue pull my fishnets back up, max retrieves my corset and wings. rue laces my corset back up. jackie and eden are busy quietly tucking themselves back into their pants.

i’m still dribbling down my thighs. i cling to rue who’s lifted me up again. we all leave the bathroom. they’ve all got a little swagger in their step. eden wipes spit off my chin. rue puts me down in the chair i was sitting in before. they get a million questions, i get a million questions. but i can’t speak english so i just smile and giggle dumbly.

hm, samantha says in the same tone of voice that one would say tragic. they went and banged her brains out. i do regain my ability to talk after a bit of time, all i disclose is, it was magical, and i open my hand, still tightly closed before that, and show them my cumstained thong. melanie gasps, they lean in to see. meanwhile i can see max pantomiming some of the dirty details. rue sits looking pleased. jess is on eden’s lap and they are cuddling again.

the rest of the night is incredible. everything seems a little more golden, a little more wonderful when cast in the afterglow of the gangbang. i float home, an uneven, side to side, wobbly float. but it is something amazing and it’s mine. i get right in bed soon as i get home. eden strips and helps me out of my corset with some drunken effort and kisses me. you’re a dream shaped like a, like a star, she tells me drunkenly, before she goes to sleep. it is nonsensical but kind of sweet.

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umnachtung · 6 years

Text

survey stealing prof strikes

A How artistic are you? Pretty much I guess? I mostly draw tho. But I like singing and dancing and I recently got more into writing.

Do you want to go to Africa? I kinda want to see Egypt tbh.

AC/DC or Aerosmith? neither ->same

Do you know what Armenia is?

Yeah.

What’s your beer of choice (if any)? Störtebeker Bernsteinweizen probably

Do you know the title of Buffalo Springfield’s one-hit wonder? probably but I suck at recognizing names.

Do you have a brother? (Do you like it that way?) No, but maybe I am. -x-files teme playing-

Which bank do you use? Spaßkasse

C Which comedian do you most enjoy? IDK, McElroy brothers?

Would you ever live in California? Nope.

Is it possible/likely that you’ll become a cat lady? Probably.

How many different countries have visited? 3

D Do you believe there’s a devil? No.

Does eating dessert often make you feel guilty? Naw.

Can you legally drive? Nope.

What have you been diagnosed with (if you don’t mind sharing)? Nothing yet. But I have finally some psyche appointments.

E How often do you drink energy drinks? never-> same

Where did you live when you were 11 years old? Berlin, Germany

Do you like the actor who played Edward Scissorhands in that movie? Eh. -vague hand gestures- Never cared much for him.

Have you ever felt an earthquake? nope.

F When was the last time you saw your father one-on-one? Yesterday.

Do you think French is the most beautiful language? Not the most, but I think it sounds neat.

Is Friday your favorite day of the week? uhhh... i supposeee?

Have you listened to Jimi’s song ‘Fire?’ nope.

G Do you have real gold jewelry? Lmao

How often do you watch ‘Gossip Girl’? Never. I dont care much about live action shows tbh.

Is Google your homepage? yup

Do you like Geico’s commercials? What is that?

H When did you last feel happy? :T HRRRMMN

Do you prefer Hollister, Hot Topic, or H&M? none of these tbh.

Did you dress up last Halloween? No, but I went to a convention cosplaying for 2 days close to Halloween so I guess that counts.

Would you voluntarily watch the History Channel? depends on the topic of the show -> same

I Have you ever been on an island? No..???

Would you be able to locate Indonesia on a globe? yes.

Do you know if Iceland or Greenland has more ice? Yeah.

Did you watch the last presidential inauguration? Naw...

J Do you enjoy jogging? Maybe if i was in a isolated chamber with no one around to watch and in silence.

On which instrument could you most easily play ‘Jingle Bells’? guitar???

How much do you know about John Lennon? Nothing much really.

Do you know how Jell-O is made? Hot water and jelly powder probably, just in big quantities.

K Have you tried Krispy Kreme doughnuts? (Was it love at first bite?) Nope. I donut know how they taste.

Are you very afraid of North Korea? Not really.

How many pairs of khaki pants do you own? none -> same

Have you ever been a fan of the Killers? Naw. I don’t listen to much of their songs.

L Does it bother you when couples are lovey-dovey in public? Yeah, because I think it’s kind of gross for some reason? Not much a fan of PDA. I really don’t like it in video or movies either if they go on full on make out spree. Hand holding and small affectionate gestures are ok tho.

Do you have your own lighter (why or why not)? No, but I kinda want one.

In how many languages (besides English) can you count to 100? 2

What’s your favorite lollipop flavor? uhhhhhhh, lime?

M Do you believe in miracles (why or why not)? I believe in random favorable occurrences you cant manipulate the chances of happening.

What do you think of shows like Maury and Jerry Springer? Don’t know em, Don’t care?

Do you care that Mars (the candy co.) uses deadly animal testing? This is new to me.

How did you form your opinion of marijuana? Through observing people affected by it around me. It seems, uh... harmless compared to other drugs? would try in safe environment but not as a joint. -shrugs-

N How often do you sleep naked? idk i dont keep count of that.

Do you actually check the Nutrition Facts before eating something? not really.

Who is your favorite musical artist/band beginning with ‘N’? Nine Inch Nails ????

How nerdy are you (in what ways)? Obscure niche nerdy with all that roleplaying and character making but not much into popular fandom stuff these days. I am too slow for it. Batman is ok?

O What do you think about olives? give them to me.

Are you much of an outdoorsy person? I would if the outdoor was not so noisy.

How big of an Oprah fan are you? Not at all. We don’t have the show here so -shrugs-

How often do you shop online? Never. No moneys.

P Are you looking forward to your prom? If you already went, how was it? no proms in Germany -> can confirm.

How are your local policemen? Wearing blue, driving around in cars. iDK.

What is your ideal PB&J sandwich like? Eh... not much of a fan of those.

What do you think of the movie ‘Pineapple Express’? don’t know it -> same.

Q How true is the saying, ‘quitters never win and winners never quit’? kind of problematic. because sometimes you have to quit if it affects your future well-being imo???

Do you prefer Quiznos or Subway and why? None of them.

Have you learned the quadratic formula yet? (Do you remember it?) I did and i forgot about it. Could def get into it again but currently idfk how that one works. What is the one question you most want to ask someone and who? When will my motivation come back from war?

R How many rooms are in your home? 3

Do you like raspberries? yesss

What’s one of your best memories from during a rain storm? The experience of a pitch black night by a lake and the lighting turning the scenery black and white for a moment. pretty intense and cool.

Have you actually read Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo & Juliet’? No, don’t care about this “classic.”

S Do you know any Sign Language? a little??? What is your sleeping schedule generally like? 2 -4 am til 12 - 14 pm :I

How well do you sing? okayish?

How often do you listen to 60-70’s music? a lot recently. Especially 70s psychedelic rock.

T What do you think of Twitter? I have one. It’s still confusing.

How much do you value the Ten Commandments? They are reasonable. Actually I think they should be a given(4th to 10ths). Weither you believe in a God or not? Like just be a fuckin’ decent human being?

Are there many trees where you live? yeh!

How much taller/shorter do you wish to be? I’m decently sized but a bit taller would be cool?

U Where do you usually buy your underwear? bon prix, h&m, c&a ?

How do you define ‘ugly’? Gross and morally unacceptable behavior?

Do you like to shop at Urban Outfitters? We dont have that here.

V Would you like being described as ‘voluptuous’? Uhhh... idk. describe me as bode instead?

For listening to music, do you like to crank up the volume or keep it calm? depends on the song and if I am alone at home or not.

Do you ever watch the annual Victoria’s Secret fashion show? No. the hell...?

Would you agree that ‘variety is the spice of life’? yeah.

W Are you currently on wireless Internet? no.

Can you recall memories of learning how to whistle? Yeah, my family made fun of me for not doing it right.

Do you go to White Castle or just vicariously through ‘Harold & Kumar’? Sure, just let me walk over the fucking ocean to get there, I suppose.

Have you gone to Washington, DC? Did you like it? (OR do you want to go?) What even is there that makes it interesting to go there?

X Why did you need your most recent x-ray and what were the results? For my wisdom teeth surgery last year. I now am wisdom teeth free.

When it comes to ‘xoxo’, do you interpret ‘x’ as the hug or the kiss? I honestly read it as it says and not think much of hugs and kisses.

What does X stand for in Roman numerals? Can you write the previous number? ten. IX

Why do you think xylophones are only popular with young children? Because no one shows you big xylophones and that they can be cool beyond the age of 5.

Y Can you explain the meaning of the yin-yang symbol? Balance between two opposites?

Do people more often mistake you as being younger or older than you are?

I have no clue.

Did you know that yawning is contagious?

yes.

Would you like a bottle of Yoo-Hoo or it’s not really your thing? What even is that?

Z How many places’ zip codes do you know by heart?

None.

What comes to mind when I say ‘Zero to Hero’? Robots movie and disney hercules.

#survey

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