#you can literally throw geese. the only thing they have to grab you with is their beak. yes they can fly at you but they have basically a | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shurisneakers · 3 years

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

948 notes · View notes

lycorogue · 3 years

Text

Perfect Doesn’t Need to be Perfect: Chapter 6

Sorry for the delay on this, folks. Yesterday was my first day all week that I was supposed to have some free time, and I had every intension of publishing then. Ironically, instead of editing and publishing this chapter, I got engrossed in my game of Untitled Goose Game. Guess I just needed to get into the head of these geese.... Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and that having a double-chapter update again can help appease. ^_^

Oh, also, I nearly forgot, I did have to tweak the canon timing on this chapter. Taurus Pixie had this chapter at night. However, birds lay in the morning, and both frost and fog are more likely to happen hours after sunset and end just as the sun is coming up. Sooooo, this chapter is more-or-less first thing in the morning now.

**Contains Spoilers for Taurus Pixie’s story Twelve Days of Chatmas**

Summary: Chat Noir has run into a long streak of poor luck, all in an attempt to give Ladybug the perfect Christmas gift. Little does he know, his first try was already perfect in Ladybug’s eyes. Now it’s her turn to try to navigate around Chat Noir’s failed attempts in her own pursuit to find something equally fantastic for him. **A Switched-POV Unofficial Companion Story to Twelve Days of Chatmas by @thetauruspixie**

Rating: General Audience

Chapter Word Count: 2941

Story Total Word Count: 37,973

Status: chapter 6 of 12; complete

**For reals, if you haven’t read Twelve Days of Chatmas yet, read that first so my story doesn’t spoil anything for you. It’s cool. This story will still be here when you get back. ;) **

See below for chapter 6, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

CHAPTER 6:

Marinette woke up drained from her long night envisioning who Adrien could have bought the rings for. She couldn't even look at her board of Adrien pictures when she woke up. She also took down the ones that lined the walls above her desk. She just couldn't stand seeing his smile at that moment; wondering who was making him smile like that.

“Marinette, are you sure you're not over-reacting?” Tikki awkwardly glanced at the stack of Adrien photos in Marinette's hand. “How do you know Adrien didn't buy those rings for each of his friends or for Nathalie? Do they have to have been bought for someone he was in love with?” Her voice suggested she already knew the answer.

“You don't buy your friends expensive jewelry like that.” Marinette opened one of her drawers and threw the pictures inside before slamming the drawer back closed.

“Marinette-”

“Never mind, Tikki, I-” Marinette's eyes landed on the pear tree Chat Noir had made for her. She again ran her fingers over the little bird in the branches. “I need to figure out a gift for Chat Noir. I can't be thinking about Adrien right now.”

She stormed to the presents she had delicately pulled from her trunk the day before, scooped them up, and dropped them back into their hiding place.

“So you're not going with the blanket idea after all?”

“Maybe some other time, but I think, after everything he's been through this week, he needs something better than just a blanket.”

“I think he'd really appreciate the blanket, Marinette. It's the thought that counts, and I think the thought would really mean a lot to him.”

Marinette shook her head and plopped onto her chaise lounge. “No. As far as he'll know, I just bought him a blanket. That won't be enough.”

“You can't tell him that you made it?”

“I can't chance that. He knows Marinette, at least a little bit, and he knows that Marinette is a seamstress. What if he somehow pieces together that I'm Ladybug after Ladybug tells him she made a blanket for him?”

Marinette grabbed her throw pillow and pulled it over her face so she could scream in it. She was back at zero. She had already exhausted so many gift ideas, she wasn't sure she could think of an appropriate one for her partner in time. This Christmas was turning into a disaster.

“I know you'll think of something amazing, Marinette. Besides, I'm positive anything from you will make him happy.”

“Thanks, Tikki.”

Bundling up, Marinette climbed onto her balcony and just took in Paris as it spread out around her. The sky was again dark and heavy with clouds. The thin light of the rising sun barely cut through the fog that was rolling in off the Seine. The City of Lights was an oddly calming gray all around her.

The school made her think of Adrien, so she quickly turned her back to it, seeing instead the Place de Vosges. Frost had painted the grass an unblemished white, and accented the bare tree branches. The fountains were turned off so they wouldn't freeze. The carousel was the only bit of color in the entire park.

Marinette took in the peaceful quiet of the square and the sleepy Paris around it.

“That's it!” As Marinette's eyes drifted towards the southern entrance of the park they widened and she quickly turned towards Tikki. “I think I've figured out my gift! The artist that made the Ladybug and Chat Noir statue, Théo! Chat Noir made me his statue, so what if I try to commission Théo to make a small Chat Noir figurine? Chat Noir will know how much he means to me when I give it to him, he can pass it off as a fan just wanting a statuette of a superhero if he displays it, and I'll never see it on display, so it won't reveal who he is to me! This is perfect!”

“I knew you'd figure it out, Marinette!”

Marinette checked her phone. “I have about twenty minutes before Chat Noir and I do our Saturday morning patrol. It'll be close, but I should have enough time. Tikki, spots on!” Marinette gleefully became Ladybug and leapt onto the next roof as she began her sprint towards Théo's studio, hoping he'd be there.

“Hey, Bugaboo!”

Ladybug stumbled as she skidded to a halt on one of the rooftops. What is he doing here? How am I going to get to Théo now?

Chat Noir skidded to a stop beside her, clearly in full-sprint himself before he caught her attention.

“C-Chat Noir? What are you doing out and about?”

He gave a pleasant chuckle, clearly in much better spirits than he had been since the disaster with his pear tree statue. “I might ask you the same question.”

They weren't supposed to meet up for another fifteen minutes, easily, and she normally could cross the whole of Paris in less time. There really wasn't any reason for her to already be powered up for their patrol meet-up.

She glanced towards Théo's studio, hoping to come up with an excuse to get away from Chat Noir and meet up with him at nine, as they planned.

“I-I had some stuff to do.” It was a terrible answer, but she hoped he'd shoo her on her way.

“It's okay, you don't have to tell me.” Chat Noir gave her a knowing smile. Did he figure out that she was trying to get a present from him? “But what you do have to do is put this on and come with me.” His smile grew into a playful smirk as he pulled out a blindfold he had tucked under his belt.

“A blindfold?” Ladybug wasn't sure where he was going with this, or if she wanted to know. Plus, she still had to get to Théo to try to commission him.

Noticing her unease, Chat Noir softened and gave her a warmer, more welcoming smile. That “you trust me, right?” look.

“Don't worry, it'll all make sense soon.” There was a slight plea to his voice. Ladybug knew she couldn't turn him down. He needed this. He needed her to trust him and literally follow him blindly.

“What are you up to?” She pursed her lips in an attempt to not smile herself. Chat Noir seemed so vulnerable at that moment, even when he was the one holding out the blindfold. He was actually kind of cute, and she knew she would follow him regardless.

Chat Noir gave the most campy, villainous laugh Ladybug had ever heard, and he mimed twirling a mustache. “If I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise.” He then took hold of Ladybug's wrist, and gently tugged her closer to him. When she relented, he twirled her around so he could tie the blindfold over her eyes.

“There isn't going to be any shrieking birds this time, is there?” Ladybug said it jokingly, but she also winced slightly at the memory of those piercing notes, and then winced again upon realizing how cruel that must have sounded to Chat Noir.

“No,” Chat Noir gave a nervous laugh, “cat's honor.”

Ladybug turned to face him, hoping he was still where his voice came from, and gave a soft nod. “How am I going to get wherever it is you want to take me-?” She squealed out the last word as she suddenly got scooped up into a bridal carry. Flailing around for some sort of purchase, she landed on Chat Noir's shoulders. She then moved to take off the blindfold in order to give him a proper scolding for not warning her. She got as far as tucking her thumb under the blindfold before she felt her legs rest on Chat Noir's knee, and his hand on top of hers.

“Trust me.” There was that plead in his voice again. She did trust him. With her life. She knew full well that he'd never let her fall, and even if she did, he'd be there to catch her before she got hurt.

Even if she fell, he'd catch her before she got hurt. The thought echoed in her mind, and she wasn't sure why it struck such a chord with her all of a sudden.

Shifting her focus back to the present, she slowly lowered her hand from the blindfold, completely relenting to her partner. He had done this before, quite a few times, actually, back when she had no powers to save her. If she could trust him as Marinette, how could she possibly not trust him as Ladybug?

He even held her the same way he did that night he showed her the rooftop picnic he had set up for Ladybug. She felt his warmth through the suit the same way; smelt his scent coming off his collar. He was gentle with her, just as he was with Marinette, his arms wrapping protectively around her. As she nestled onto his chest, she almost forgot she wasn't Marinette in his eyes.

He ran for quite some time. The sounds of Paris waking up and enjoying the chilled morning fell away behind them. Instead, she heard the bird chirps, dog barks, and cheerful children's laughter that made her suspect they were in the suburbs of Paris. Chat Noir ran less, and jumped a lot more. They were certainly not in the tightly packed city, and Ladybug's stomach hopped whenever Chat Noir did. She gripped him tighter, her head finding that nook where his shoulder and neck meet.

Another few minutes, and the sounds of a morning suburb also washed away. Ducks loudly honked at each other. There was loud rustling of Chat Noir landing in treetops. Birds loudly chirped out warnings about the cat-themed superhero leaping through their homes. Then there were cars buzzing below them before the sounds of nature returned. Ladybug was completely lost as to where they were going.

Finally, they reached their destination. Everything was soft and still. Birds sang in the distance, but almost too soft to hear. There was water nearby that gently splashed from something disturbing the surface. Ladybug could not place at all where Chat Noir had taken her.

It had been a few minutes since Chat Noir had scooped her up, so when he placed Ladybug back on her legs she was a touch wobbly for a couple seconds. He caught hold of her arms and helped steady her, but she still faceplanted straight into his chest. Bolting upright, she blushed at how clumsy she just was. She also couldn't help but picture Chat Noir as Adrien, catching her as Marinette, like he has done so many times before. Her blush deepened as she felt the heat leak to her ears.

She was Ladybug though. Right then she was a superhero. She got her bearing, rolled her shoulders, and regained her balance. A couple seconds later – probably after Chat Noir was convinced she was steady – she heard him walk around her, and then the blindfold slowly dropped so she could take in her surprise slowly.

Despite herself, she gasped. They were in a completely secluded park, or it may have been an actual forest clearing. She couldn't be entirely sure. Aside from the green surrounding the small lake to her right, the rest of the horizon was lined by trees. Wherever she looked, there was just a wall of trees hiding them from the rest of the world. Creeping up to the lake was a line of frosted weeping willows with limbs draping to the ground in thick crystallized curtains. Long reeds reached out from the lake, creating a fence as if fending the water from the encroaching trees. A fog was still surrounding the lake, leaving everything in a slight haze.

It was like a dream or a painting. It was one of the most beautiful things Ladybug had ever seen.

Smiling back at her, Chat Noir moved to one of the larger weeping willows, and shifted the boughs with little icicle chimes. Hidden against the tree's trunk was a large picnic blanket lined by candles, and a basket with a large flask in the center of the blanket. Ladybug wasn't sure how she felt about Chat Noir leaving lit candles alone on a blanket and hidden near a tree, but the gesture was sweet and the picnic was inviting and cozy.

“Chat-” Ladybug sighed. There was no other response. Everything was just so gorgeous she thought she could cry.

Chat Noir jogged back to her to take her hands. They each took one step towards the tree when they were startled by a loud hiss.

They turned towards the lake, and a very angry looking white goose briefly stood up in its nest, making it look as big as it could, before resettling onto her clutch of eggs.

“Oh!” Ladybug stared at the goose, who was staring her down as well. “Um, maybe we should-”

Ladybug and Chat Noir took a step back, but clearly not fast enough or far enough for the goose. She hissed again at them, and it almost made Ladybug chuckle at how much it sounded like an angry cat hissing. She nearly told Chat Noir to just start hissing back to show dominance.

Taking another small sidestep, Ladybug turned back towards Chat Noir. She smiled at him, trying to ignore the goose and instead focus on this beautiful picnic he had set out for them. He was fixated on the goose, however, and his eyes kept darting cautiously back to it.

Ladybug cupped Chat Noir's cheek and silently directed him to look only at her. Maybe ignoring the goose would let it know they weren't intending to disturb it.

“Aww, Chat Noir, you really didn't have to-”

The goose hissed again. Louder. We moved away from you! What more do you want? Ladybug wanted to demand of the bird.

Chat Noir's attention was fully on the water fowl, and Ladybug turned to glare at it. However, her eyes instead drifted to the tall reeds shaking on either side of the nesting goose. Like a police squad, five more geese emerged from the lake and instantly joined in with hissing at the two superheroes.

The second the new geese joined in the chorus of hissing, Chat Noir darted behind Ladybug, using her as a shield as he peeked past her shoulder. Ladybug couldn't help but giggle at this superhero being so terrified by six harmless geese after they've combated far more dangerous akumatized villains time and time again. She couldn't even justify it as him trying to get away from his feather allergy since he certainly didn't hide behind her when they were fighting Mr. Pigeon, or the Liberator with the chickens earlier that week.

“It's okay, Kitty, they're just geese.”

“More like devils with wings!” Chat Noir actually did hiss back at the birds as he began backing away and tugging Ladybug along with him.

“Devils with wings?” Ladybug laughed. “Seriously, Chat-”

One of the geese loudly honked a charge cry, and all five of the protecting geese lurched forward. They noisily honked and hissed, their wings flapping angrily in a shooing motion, as they chased after the teens.

Ladybug and Chat Noir leapt back to give the geese more berth. “Okay,” Ladybug admitted with a shaky voice, “yeah, they are kinda scary.”

One of the geese lunged for her ankle, causing Ladybug to scream as she pushed back against Chat Noir to avoid the bite. She didn't realize geese had teeth on their tongues! Birds weren't supposed to have teeth at all, but on their tongue of all places?

Chat Noir screamed as well and pulled Ladybug tight as she moved away from the goose. They rushed further from the lake, never taking their eyes off the geese; hoping the fowl will believe they drove the superheroes far enough from the nesting mom and will give up their pursuit.

Instead, their retreat must have seemed even more threatening somehow, and the geese quickened their charge.

The loud scream from both Ladybug and Chat Noir echoed throughout the otherwise abandoned park, and the two sprinted as far away from the lake as they could, the geese relentlessly hunting them down. There was nothing for Ladybug to swing from. All of the weeping willow limbs were too weak to hold them.

“This way!” Chat Noir wrapped his arm around Ladybug's waist and extended his stick to vault them into the air and away from the secluded lake.

Ladybug's heart broke a little for Chat Noir. First he felt his sculpture for her wasn't good enough, and then the fiasco with the squawking birds, and now his picnic being ruined? Not to mention the hens. He truly did have poor luck with birds, didn't he?

He deserves the best gift ever. Ladybug thought as she wrapped her arms around Chat Noir's neck, letting him lead them back to the city proper. Something way better than a statuette.

Ladybug spent the rest of the morning pondering two things: what she could get Chat Noir that would at least be on par with all the effort he had been putting into his gift to her, and how anyone was going to get past the deranged geese to blow out the candles and pick up the picnic. She hoped both would be settled easily enough.

Thank you for reading. Read Next Chapter

Read from the beginning: Chapter 1

Please let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list.

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

9 notes · View notes

reiven2017 · 4 years

Text

Monopoly with me.

Chapter 2.

The raven stretched, dispersing blood in the joints. Her neck moaned plaintively and made a sound similar to a wound spring when the girl looked too sharply to the side. In the distance, half the sun was shining, and there was an azure sky above her head and Raven realized that it was morning. She cringed when the cold air seemed to pass through her. The weather in the mountains was ... unstable. And what did she have a day for today? I’d better not say anything. The girl frowned when she heard a short scream, and then the rough male voices. Reason clearly echoed in her head. “This is something that definitely doesn't concern you. Go on your joyful dear Raven. ” But Raven ignored the voice and came closer to the edge of the roof. Two black men's backs caught her eye and something light, sandwiched and hunched over peeped out from behind them. Climbing closer, Raven realized that it was a girl. Tears flowed down her cheek, and her mouth opened and closed in a silent cry. Her half-tattered dress hung miserably in shreds from her shoulder. Raven frowned even more, and her eyes darkened. She quickly felt the handle of the dagger, on her belt, and ready to rush at them, she froze. One of the men moved away from the victim and the Royal Guard badge flashed on his chest. Damn it. Rachel hesitated, considering how likely the chances were that she would be next to the poor thing. Going to men was not a good idea anyway. They excelled in strength. And go to the soldiers of al-Ghul ... you know, imagine a huge herd of bulls that scoot at you. Presented? Great, now imagine that these bulls have sharp swords on their horns. Well, how great are the chances of dying. The girl cried out again and this was a signal for Raven. She shoved the entire internal dialogue away, focusing on not catching the Lyuli. Raven jumping, knocked down one of them, landing on him, when the other already pulled out a sword. The girl jumped from the man and threw up the blade. She took a fighting stance, I do not know what next. “Shine, Rachel. Congratulations, you’ll be buried with a sign {Dumb idiot deciding to act as hero} "The guy maliciously grinned and growled some curse in ancient Arabic in her direction. It is so good that she did not know this language. Second, his colleague pulled out his sword and threw away his It’s much more interesting, of course. The victim slid down the wall, reveling in sobs. It was the Raven who needed to sob now, and her. The man whom she knocked down jumped to his feet and did not even try to get his weapon. He grinned caustically and shook his head.

“To save another and expose yourself to a blow, how stupid it is.” Can't you find a puppy? - Yes! The raven barely suppressed the answer before he managed to slip from her lips. She knew perfectly well that this was stupid. Raven, you didn’t even let this blade into action when you didn’t! What will they be from this bullshit? You do not know how to fight. You do not know how to fight. You don't know how to fight, you fool! Sweat ran down her back, and adrenaline rose in her blood. Her skin burned under a mask and Raven was grateful that at least he had put on a hood. The two began to slowly approach, and the girl was moving away, and only now Raven realized that they were in the fucking dumb street. There was one solid wall behind and the girl who was attacked fell apart across. Fainted from fright. This is definitely not what she needs. Rachel began to randomly run her gaze through the space, which was rapidly decreasing as the two approached like hunters following a small mouse. And here, as a salvation, Raven saw from the side, a shovel. Old, rusty. She could swear that she literally glowed with snow-white lights. She rushed in that direction, at that moment when one of the soldiers had already managed to attack her. He stumbled. Geese saved Rome, why not a spade to save her? Raven hit him on the head in a huge sweep. The man went limp and staggered. He crashed to the ground, clutching his head. The other, without wasting time, threw a shurekin, just like a girl in her forearm. The raven grimaced, her face contorted in pain as the steel cut through her skin, digging sharp spikes into her hand. She wanted to cry, but the instincts of self-preservation did not let her lose her mind. In front of her stood another soldier, much more than the one whom she hranulo a shovel. He rushed to her, throwing the spatula to the side and grabbed Raven by the throat. The girl cluttered, trying with all her might to tear this rotten hand away from herself. The man grinned and began to compress his fingers harder. E

- Well, you son of a bitch, let me even look in your face before death. - No. Just not that. Raven still had a little hope for life, and if they see her face, the hunt will begin. These soldiers will definitely want revenge. She had already imagined how she would be allowed to go around, a chill went all over her body, and Raven clung even harder, trying to kick the attacker. At least somewhere. So the girl woke up and, seeing what was happening, picked up with trembling hands lifted the cobblestone from the ground and began to slowly approach, swaying. Yes, you are faster! The soldiers turned out to be quicker and in one sharp jerk, tore off her hood and ... froze. He was stared at by beautiful amethyst eyes framed by a layer of fluffy eyelashes. He blinked with wide eyes, not believing that a girl had attacked them. But they did not give him time to think. Due to shock, his grip loosened and Raven forcefully pushed him with both legs away. He fell, falling on his back, when he did not have time to move away, he received a stone. The raven fell to her knees, exhausted, hoarsely swallowing the air. Her hands darted to her throat, and then to her forearm and gently felt the flesh. The wound seemed to throb and burn. Streams of blood were already streaming down his arm and Raven winced. She sucked in air through clenched teeth and jerked out a shureken. Fucking fucking shit. More blood spattered. She tore a piece from her sleeve and bandaged the wound. Raven cast a short glance at the two carcasses, burning with the urge to stick this shurekin to them in one dry, hard-to-reach revenge. Raven stared at the girl. She did not blink at the soldier whom she had hit with a stone. Light blonde. The raven moaned and rose to its feet, brushing off dust. Only now a girl looked at her.

- Thank. She whispered softly, with her lips. Ha. Rachel grinned. It was she who just saved her.

- What is your name? - asked the Raven, again pulling his hood and looking around in search of eyes that could become random witnesses.

- Adila.

- So, Adila, let's agree that you will erase my face from memory and forget this hour. Do you get it? - Raven looked at her. The tone of her voice sounded calm, but there was clearly a threat in him. The girl nodded obediently. - Good.

Raven again carefully looked into her face and made sure that she had truncated the whole scale of the problems that she could provide, she turned around and took a step from this street. She pulled on her hood harder. These fuckers won't forgive this. This place does not tolerate this and literally all the bones in her body insisted that this was not the end. Hmm, she imagined her start to the day clearly wrong.

- - Mother is my woman! - exclaimed the old man, stepping out from behind the bar and threw up his hands to the sky. His wide-open eyes ran excitedly over the familiar figure into the hood, and his lips extended into a smile. The raven grimaced at the disgusting smell of alcohol floating in the air. And how does Gassan endure it?

“Raven, isn't that you?” Oh my god! The thin old man cried noisily, hastily wiping his hands on the apron. Bright paint poured on his face, leaving no trace of that tired person and it seemed that even the ancient wrinkles on his forehead were smoothed out. He cast a short look at the crowd of onlookers gathered at the tables, which were now carefully studying what was happening, drinking directly from the bottles of arak. The man nodded toward the stairs leading to the second floor and the girl followed him without asking questions. Only when her bony shadow darted into the room, securely hidden from prying eyes, did the girl pull off her hood. Before he could recover, the man was captured by her hands, covered with the skin of an animal, when she hugged him tightly. The girl made a sound reminiscent of a contented cat and laid her head on the old man's shoulder. The man hugged her back.

- Hi Gassan. Raven whispered softly, not unclenching her arms. Her heart was beating happily in her chest, content with the moment.

- Hello, my angel. - in her manner answered the man. He took the girl by the shoulders, gently moving away and looked around. “How prettier and grown you are, Raven.” Straight beauty indescribable. And your pallor remained with you. Amazing - He thoughtfully stared at her face, and then, as if it dawned on him, he reached out and uttered dumbfounded. - - My angel, how did you end up here? - the girl giggled, relishing the expression of complete misunderstanding of the situation. She smiled conspiratorially and deliberately slowly explained:

- How, how, arrived three days ago. From caravan to caravan and to Ghula. Her voice sparkled merrily and shimmered with carelessness, as if that was what the whole world had been dedicated to.

- Three days?! But how so! Holy Manat, - the man looked up, turning to the gods and squinting at the girl. “Why did you order that this masterful girl come to me just now?” Oh, I will die of a broken heart. - He theatrically put his hand on his chest and exhaled sadly. Raven burst into fervent laughter as a child who had just seen the best performance in life.

“No, well, look at her.” I am seriously unhappy that you decided to visit your old friend so late, my angel.

- There were things. What can you do? - She spread her arms and grunted easily.

- Oh, how busy everyone is. Gassan clicked in displeasure and shook his head.

- Come on. How are you?

- Good, my angel, good.

- I heard Zakir also in the city. Do not know where to find it? - the man froze for a moment, his face did not express anything and Raven held her breath. For several minutes there was a deadly silence, and the air cooled. His eyebrows stiffly converged on the nose, forming a deep wrinkle on his forehead. Gassan's voice became extremely serious when, after a pause, he answered:

“You should take hold of the mind, my angel.” The raven looked at him embarrassedly and arched a questioning eyebrow in an arc. AND? He says that she is that. Fool?

- What?

- - You would throw this business, ignoble, Raven. The old man muttered grimly, looking off to the side, clenching his teeth and exhaling heavily. He seemed upset. The girl cheerfully waved him off.

- What are you doing? Yes, everything will be fine with me. - She tried to make her voice more relaxed when Gassan again clicked disapprovingly. He exhaled heavily, as if resigned to something.

- Good. I am before him, my angel. And now, I need to go to work.

“I'll come again tomorrow.”

He woke up on the street when the moon had already risen in the sky. His head hurt and throbbed. The man lifted himself up on his elbows, moaning softly. Next to him was his partner. Vidocq was no better.

- Woke up? - he asked. But the man did not hear him. A thousand and one ideas were carried in his head, rampant revenge. Pictures of that drunken face surfaced. Such a city will not be difficult to find. And when he got to her, God forbid her, heaven had not seen such a thing.

#damirae #demonbirds #fanfic

22 notes · View notes

imreallystressed · 4 years

Text

nothing is okay /j (pt. 3)

word count: ~2,200 pairings: it’s literally just platonic (obviously) creativitwins, some angst some comfort warnings: angst angst angst, with the comfort being a slightly-more-cathartic-than-usual-bandaid. roman and remus both have what amount to identity crises. buildings falling apart? mention of puking. general creepy language (both in the remus way and like horror-esque). swearing! notes: oh boy. i’d say i’m sorry but i know exactly what i’m doing. my favorite part is literally just “whimsy-twinsy”, which should surprise no one!! also apologies for procrastinating this for so long!!! first! - prev! - next! AO3 LINK

Roman was fairly sure he was going to pass out. He probably could’ve communicated this to Remus, who was definitely talking to him, but he couldn’t actually hear anything over the blood pounding in his head.

He suddenly wished fervently that he hadn’t closed the door behind him. Or agreed to this. Or gotten out of bed at all.

“Roman, for fuck’s sake, are you even conscious?” Remus shouted, loudly enough to snap Roman out of his trance.

“Uh- yeah, yeah! What’s up?” Roman said. Remus raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. “I didn’t believe that one either.”

“What the fuck did you do? Honestly, if this was on purpose, I’m impressed, but judging by the fact that you just went catatonic as a dead rat I’m going to have to assume this was a mistake.”

“Can we just go?” Roman snapped, yanking his hand from Remus and forcing himself to face the landscape before him. His beautiful rolling hills, filled with secrets from his subconscious and little reminders of Thomas’ life were gone, replaced with a forest that ached of too many thunderstorms and loneliness. The trees were hunched over the path like they were ready to reach out and grab whichever unlucky traveler dared head through the woods.

Roman steadied himself, which basically meant firmly shoving his racing heart to the back of his mind and starting down the path. Remus followed, uncharacteristically silent.

The further they got in the suffocating atmosphere, the more off-balance Roman felt. The forest really did feel like it was pulling at them, vines unfurling in his face and weeds curling around his boots. Every ounce of the environment screamed unstable, it felt like some kind of apocalypse had once flattened it.

Roman wished Remus would just say something, anything, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood, walking a few steps behind Roman and keeping his head down, glowering through his bangs.

He was fully aware his breathing was far too erratic for a stroll in the woods, and immediately felt a pang of guilt as he wondered if it was affecting Thomas. That train of thought lead him directly to Virgil, and then he had the fleeting thought that maybe it was Virgil’s panic affecting him.

He looked up and saw some kind of eyeless creature watching them through the branches, and there went that thought.

Roman danced through old daydreams in his head, trying to settle on something to think of other than the possibly perilous danger he was in, but after fifteen minutes of failing every idea he thought of, he gave up.

This was conveniently when they came to a crossroads and he was forced to pause. Remus stood beside him, the maybe-six-inches between them like a gaping chasm.

“Do you remember the way?” Roman asked quietly.

“I haven’t been since... yeah,” Remus trailed off, peering around the corner. “You’d know better.”

“You think I’ve been since then?”

Remus looked up at him with a hint of shock in his eyes, and Roman’s heart ached. “You haven’t?”

“What, you think I enjoy literally and empathetically lo-jacking my friends every day?” Roman asked. He’d intended for it to come out jokingly, but the tremble in his voice dashed that dream instantly. Remus gave him an incredulous look.

“You could know everyone’s deepest secrets.”

“I don’t want to know everyone’s deepest secrets!” Roman said, equal parts upset and offended that Remus would think he’d spy on them like that.

Remus turned away, looking down the path to their right, clearly uncomfortable. “Well, then I guess we just have to try each one, right?”

“What if the path doesn’t even lead to the fountain?” Roman blurted, before he could stop himself. “What if this is all some wild goose chase?”

“Geese are pretty fun!”

Roman smacked Remus gently on the shoulder. “I mean it.”

“I know. I’m trying not to think about it.”

“You of all people should know that that doesn’t work,” Roman said, trying for levity and falling somewhere between ‘miserable’ and ‘actually offensive’.

Remus frowned at him. “You sound like Logan.”

Roman blinked. “Oh my god, I do. What’s happening to me? Is this the mom instinct?”

Remus began cackling, and Roman started giggling a little deliriously.

“And stop with the what ifs. That’s Virgil’s thing. The fact that you’re even saying that means we’re almost certainly on the right path. Now c’mon, we’re racing. Last one there has to suck a horse dick!”

“No-”

Roman did actually beat Remus there, who seemed far too comfortable with his fate, and both turned to look at the scene before them.

Roman’s heart dropped a little further.

“That’s - well. At least that’s it, right?” Remus said, his voice pointedly cheery. Roman nodded woodenly, staring at the entrance. He could already feel his hands start to shake.

“That’s it.”

“You did a good job sealing it.”

“I guess.”

“Real fucking helpful now,” Remus said, and Roman snorted. Careless of the wild plants, many covered in menacing thorns, Remus stalked forward to the entrance and heaved one of the rocks to the side, creating an opening big enough for them to get through.

Remus didn’t hesitate a second to dive through, and his awed “woah” echoed back to Roman.

He picked his way across the plant life, and crawled through the hole, significantly less elegantly than he meant to, and stood beside his twin.

The inside of the spring was covered in plant life, and the air hung humid enough to make breathing just a touch more difficult than it needed to be. Remus was looking around like he was thrilled, but Roman felt a clawing sense of dread pooling in his chest.

Some kind of lizard scuttled across a nearby rock, and he shuddered.

“Okay, creepy water time?” Roman said, interrupting their reverie. Remus grinned brightly in his direction and turned to the pool in the center of the cave.

“Be my guest!”

“This is my side of the Imagination.”

“Okay, die then.”

Roman took a step forward, and instantly regretted it.

If he had had an orchestra playing a score for his life, now would have been the time for the violin sting.

The entire cave rumbled to life, vibrating around them. Pebbles began to cascade off the walls and ceiling, throwing clouds of dust as they rained a twisted hail upon the brothers.

Cracks started to web across the ceiling, larger plates of rock collapsing onto the ground, crushing plants and moss and ripping vines as they fell.

“Uh, Rem, I didn’t think you meant that literally-”

“See the thing is that I didn’t, I’m not doing this, which is surprising because I’m me - move!”

Remus dove, slamming Roman to the ground as a massive boulder careened into the spot where he was standing.

And just like that, the earthquake stopped.

Remus shoved himself off of Roman, but Roman caught his shoulder.

“You saved me?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Uh, yeah. The only person- er, rock- who gets to knock out my brother is me.”

Roman fairly beamed in his direction, and Remus shook his head.

“Less sentiment, more sentient! Water!” he griped, gesturing wildly in the direction of the pool.

“Right,” Roman said, and Remus found himself missing the bright smile.

Roman walked heavily over to the water, resigned, and plunged his right hand into the just-a-little-too-blue water, squinting against it and trying to brace for whatever he was about to see.

Turns out that was just water, because nothing happened.

Remus sat beside him, glancing between him and the water expectantly.

“Uh, no offense, but that doesn’t look like Virgil.”

“It’s not working.”

“I can tell. Are you doing something different, or...?”

“I never really knew what I was doing. Oh my god, this was just a waste of time. I was worried about not finding it but we found it and it’s not even going to work because I’m just a fucking failure-”

“Roman,” Remus tried, a little taken aback.

“It doesn’t even matter if I could make it work, even if I can’t, because no matter where he is he won’t even listen to me because no one ever does, and they’re right, they shouldn’t, because everything I say is useless or wrong or-”

“Roman!” Remus yelled, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and yanking his hand out of the water. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I told you! I fucking told you everything, the one correct thing I’m ever going to say-”

“You’re wrong,” Remus interrupted, shaking Roman just a little bit. Roman froze, his glassy eyes staring back at Remus. “You’re wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, Roman, you’re wrong,” Remus said, practically clinging at this point. “You’re the good twin. You’re not useless, you’re not wrong. I mean it, Ro.”

Roman blinked at him. “What do you mean by good twin?”

Remus jerked away suddenly, clasping his hands in his lap. “I mean- well- all that stuff you said. It’s - that stuff doesn’t apply to you. Because you’re the good twin.”

“You’re saying it applies to you.”

Remus stared into the water.

“Remus.”

“Roman.”

“It’s not a big deal. I get it, hell, I’m proud of it. I’m evil.”

“But you’re not,” Roman insisted, trying to make Remus look at him.

“But I am, Roman! That’s my whole thing! People shouldn’t listen to me because it’s my job to not be listened to!” Remus retorted.

“That doesn’t mean you’re evil!”

“Well that doesn’t work, does it? Two twins, good creativity, bad creativity. White and black. Good and evil, Roman.”

“But-”

“We split for a goddamn reason. Now would you just make the fucking water work?”

Remus finally turned, and wished he hadn’t. Roman was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest. His voice hadn’t shown it, but there were tears streaming down his face.

“Roman-”

“Fine.”

Roman plunged both hands into the water, and in the ripples Remus could almost see it, so close to their goal - but there was nothing there. It was just water.

Roman pulled his hands from the spring, set his head on the rim, and sobbed.

“We’ll- it’s fine. We’ll find Virgil the old fashioned way.”

“If he doesn’t want us to find him, we won’t,” Roman said miserably, and Remus took a moment to be extremely offended that he was right.

Remus sighed. “Look at us. Two idiots who don’t even know how to do their own jobs.”

Roman’s head shot up, and he whirled to face Remus.

“Say that again,” he said, and his voice bordered on manic but he was starting to smile, so Remus repeated himself.

“Two idiots who don’t even know how to do their own jobs?”

“That’s it, oh my god, Rem, you’re a genius, why don’t I listen to you more often-”

“Slow down, whimsy-twinsy! What’s this genius idea I apparently came up with?”

“It’s just like Janus said-”

“Wait, what?”

“-we’re nuanced now, but we weren’t back then. So the spring is powered by quote-unquote ‘good’ creativity, but since we’re not black and white anymore, we need both of us to power it.”

“You lost me at nuanced.”

“Rem. Come on!” Roman begged, holding out his hand.

“You’re nuanced, I’m not, it’s not gonna work.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that and can’t we at least try?”

Remus was about three seconds from either standing up and running or straight up puking at the obvious emotional display happening, but Roman looked genuinely pleading and well, Remus wasn’t going to examine his motivations any further than that.

“Fine,” he said, taking Roman’s hand and pretending he didn’t blanch at the answering smile he got.

Roman tugged their hands into the spring.

“Okay, now do I imagine plum fairies and sweet little birds?”

“No, dumbass, you think of Virgil.”

“Oh. Right.”

Remus wrinkled his nose and tried his best to think of positive memories of Virgil, which worked up until a certain age, but Remus had a very good memory, so it wasn’t a problem staying before then.

Achingly slowly, colour began to spread from their hands, and the pool reflected an image of Virgil, pacing back and forth somewhere Remus didn’t recognize.

“Uh, where is that?” Remus asked, glancing at Roman.

“I... don’t know.”

“Can we like, pan around?”

“I don’t know if it works like that,” Roman said, but it apparently wasn’t necessary, because Virgil chose that moment to walk in the opposite direction.

Their view shifted, and Remus felt his heart sink.

“He’s in the otherscape.”

“What?”

“The dark side, basically. Like your mindscape but... y’know. Ours. Er, mine.”

“Huh?” Roman said, puzzled. “Why would Virgil go there?”

“I’m more interested in the how. You light sides can’t rise up into it, and the door disappeared after Virgil left.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll explain more on the way back. We’ve gotta get the others, because I am not breaking into my own house without everyone there.”

“You’d break into your own house any day. You just like breaking into places.”

“Yeah, well. Usually I do it for more fun reasons.”

Roman sighed, squeezing Remus’ hand, and they both took off running.

Behind them, the pool began to drain.

( taglist [which i have now apparently?? tysm :7!!]: @glitchybina )

#sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #ts fic #ts spoilers #tw angst #roman sanders #remus sanders #creativitwins #longpost #stressed writes shit

35 notes · View notes

nomorelonelydays · 6 years

Text

saving nickels, saving dimes, 6.4K

Sidney’s been waking up with the sun for the past few days now.

His phone, clutched in his hand, flashes two texts from Geno, and one from Thomas.

I had a great time yesterday, Thomas’ text says. I’d love to take you out again. There’s a burger place downtown and I think you’d love it.

Sidney doesn’t say he’s pretty much been to every restaurant Cole Harbour has to offer. It’s not the biggest town. And perhaps Sidney should feel a little wary about dating in his hometown, but no one’s spared him and Thomas a second look.

He doesn’t look at Geno’s texts. It’s probably another photo of him on the beach with that girl, and he doesn’t really want to know more than he has to.

Maybe he’s a little selfish. Maybe he’s being irrationally ridiculous. Geno just wants to share his happiness, and as a good friend, Sidney should respond.

It should be okay to be selfish for once. Flower’s always said he’s spent too long caring after his team and not enough after himself.

That sounds great, he sends back to Thomas instead. What time?

“Thomas?” Taylor says, her mouth full of corn flakes stolen from Sidney’s cabinets. “You’re dating a guy named Thomas? Like the train?”

“What? No. Like the person. It’s a normal name.”

Taylor leans in. “Is he Russian?” she says lowly, like they’re sharing a secret.

“No, Thomas isn’t a Russian name. Or. I don’t think so? What does that have to do with anything?

She sits back, puzzled. “What happened to the last guy?” she asks instead. “What was his name?”

“Richard. And we only went out for drinks once. Turns he was just into hockey and not. You know.”

“Into you,” Taylor clarifies.

“Sure,” Sidney says. “I wish you’d stop eating my cereal, you literally run through the whole box in two days.”

“Use your NHL money to buy more,” Taylor says. “But seriously? Richard? Maybe the next guy you’ll date will be named Harry, and then you’ll have dated every Tom, Dick, and Harry in this town.”

“You’re not funny.” Sidney sits down, snatching the box back.

“Okay, Heartbreaker,” Taylor says. “My roommate has a brother named Harry. Harry Portman. You want me to get his number?”

“Please don’t,” Sidney says. “I don’t want you to wingman me.”

“I just don’t want you to turn into a hermit.”

“I go outside,” Sidney argues. “I went fishing yesterday.”

“You fish every day,” Taylor throws back. “And I saw you. You were just sitting on the docks watching the sunset.”

“People do that!”

“Yeah, our great-aunt, maybe. But she’s like, 90,” Taylor pauses, turning her attention on Sidney’s flashing phone. “Who’s that?”

Sidney barely glances down. “Geno.”

“He’s been texting you a lot.”

“Yeah, every day,” Sidney replies absently.

She raises an eyebrow. “I think he misses you,” she says carefully.

“He doesn’t. They’re all just photos of him with some girl that he met a month ago. They went to Florida for vacation, and I think he said they’re going to go to Russia in the next couple of days.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sidney snaps. At Taylor’s stricken expression, he looks away. “Sorry. I just—I mean, it doesn’t really matter what he does. It doesn’t affect me.”

Taylor’s quiet for a while.

“Hey, Sid, I won’t eat your cereal anymore,” she says gently, like a peace offering.

“No, no, it’s okay, I can buy more, I was just messing with you,” Sidney says quickly. “I like it when you come over.”

She knows exactly how Sidney feels towards Geno, despite Sidney never saying it aloud. It’d sound dumb, anyways. ‘I love a man who can’t love me back, and every day I hope that a miracle will happen and I’ll finally be happy,’ sounds like the plot of those 21st century romantic dramas that keep coming out every summer. Taylor and Sidney both avoid them like the plague.

He doesn’t know whether to be annoyed at himself for being so transparent, irritated at Taylor for being observant, or thankful that there’s someone close to him who understands just how lonely he is without him having to admit it.

“I know,” she says, and dumps the rest of the box into her bowl, corn flake dust and all. “I got you, Squid.”

It’s definitely the last one, Sidney decides.

“How’d you meet Thomas, anyways?”

“Well. It was at the grocery store. I was buying that cereal, actually,” Sidney starts, and Taylor chokes out a laugh.

“Where you go, Sid?” Geno asks, after barely pulling back from their hug.

They’re the last ones in the locker room, the rest of the team having already dispersed with their families after the loss. Sidney’s too exhausted to process the game, too numb for the reality of losing their grasp at the Cup yet again to beat himself up over it properly. Geno’s hand, big and reassuring, is still on his bicep, like he’s keeping him grounded.

“I’m going home,” Sidney says, confused.

“No, mean for summer.”

“Oh.” Sidney hasn’t thought about that yet. “I might go back to Cole Harbour.”

“Again?” Geno teases. “Home not vacation.”

“I think I need some time by myself. It’s been a rough year,” Sidney admits, but when he sees Geno’s gaze soften, turn sympathetic, he quickly changes the topic. He can’t deal with this, not right now. “You going back to Russia?”

“Maybe after,” Geno says. “Florida nice right now. Always nice.”

“You don’t change it up either,” Sidney huffs.

“You should join,” Geno says. “Go to beach, have fun, I’m take you out. Maybe you even meet special person, she spend summer together so you not stay in Cole Harbour alone again—”

Sidney pulls away abruptly. He doesn’t exactly avoid Geno’s eyes when he answers him, trying for a smile and praying Geno doesn’t notice.

“I’ll text you,” Sidney says, patting Geno’s arm. “Enjoy your summer, G.”

“Sid, wait—”

“You have the greatest laugh,” Thomas tells him one day, after Sidney had demolished his burger and is steadily working his way through the Oreo shake. “I don’t think I’ve heard anyone laugh like that.”

“It’s because I have an ugly laugh,” Sidney says wryly. “I sound like a goose.”

“Geese are cute. From far away,” Thomas says. “It’s cute.”

He likes the way Thomas talks, measured and never too loud. Listening to him talk about his day at work at the university as a professor reminds Sidney a little of sitting on the docks and watching the sun set, slowly but surely. He likes the way he moves his hands when he talks, likes how tall he is so that Sidney has to look up to kiss him.

(Sometimes Geno speaks too quickly, when he wants to get a thought across, and he’s never afraid to shout across the table at their team outing in some bar to playfully heckle a rookie.)

Thomas’ voice, Sidney thinks, that he’d like to come home to. Anyone would like to come home to something like that.

But it doesn’t make his heart race, not the way Geno’s excited yelps of ‘Sid’ does when he scores a goal. Or the way he looks at Sidney during their last Cup party, years ago, bright and adoring like he almost can’t contain it as he drags Sidney down into the pool with him.

Sidney wonders if there’s maybe something the matter with himself.

Thomas kisses him goodnight at the door, a peck on the cheek that leaves Sidney’s skin burning.

“Wait,” Sidney says, pulling him back by his wrist. “Don’t you want to come in?”

“Do you want me to?”

Sidney doesn’t date—it’s not like that there’s lots of opportunities in Pittsburgh (or Nova Scotia, for that matter), where almost everyone knows his face, and he can barely remember the last time he’s really been kissed—a real, heart-fluttering, all-consuming kiss that makes Sidney’s knees weak.

He’d always assumed love would make him heartsick like it does with Geno, like when Geno sits just a little too close at breakfast time in the nook, or when he holds Sidney just a smidge tighter than he does with Tanger during their celly, and he slips into yet another daydream. Dreams about a Geno who could care for him just as deeply and desperately as Sidney does, who doesn’t mind sharing Sidney’s quiet and secluded corner of the world—the docks, the lake, the summer house in Cole Harbour—that’s basically as much a physical extension of Sidney’s heart as can be.

(He’s always come to the conclusion that Geno would hate it. It’s too quiet. Too dull. The waves on the lake are still and not like the waves Geno raves about in Miami. There’s nothing Sidney can give to Geno that he doesn’t already have except for himself, but Geno doesn’t want that. It breaks Sidney’s heart more than he had expected it to.)

“I don’t know,” Sidney says honestly. He feels awful.

Thomas cups Sidney’s cheek, smiling. “It’s okay,” he says. “Maybe next time, yeah?”

He feels pathetic. “I don’t want you to go.”

It’s the truth. He doesn’t want to be alone.

“Want to watch a movie?” Thomas suggests.

An hour later, when Thomas lays Sidney back on the couch, pulling off his own shirt, Sidney’s phone flashes bright with a notification where he left it on the counter.

It’s Geno, Sidney thinks. It’s always Geno.

“Have you done this before?” Thomas asks, trailing kisses down Sidney’s inner thigh.

“I—” He resists the urge to shut his legs, push himself back, and hide away. He’s only kissed a boy once, a drunken, two second peck in juniors that to this day, neither he nor the guy has brought the incident up again. And in a foolish, hopeful section of his heart, Sidney’s always imagined Geno to be the one between his legs, nibbling on his neck and belly and thighs all while murmuring sweet phrases to him languages Sidney can’t understand, loving him, right here in his Cole Harbour living room. “What does it matter?”

Thomas studies him, his expression unreadable.

“It doesn’t,” he says finally. “I just wanted to know what you liked.”

“I’d like it if you took your pants off,” Sidney says, feeling bold.

Thomas’ eyes turn dark, and Sidney know he must’ve said the right thing.

It’s only when Thomas goes to the bathroom to grab a towel and Sidney laying there, boneless and wrung out, that he realizes that he’s missed a sunset for the first time since coming back from Pittsburgh.

Geno always wants to call.

Always wants to share about his time at the zoo petting the penguin chicks, or dancing the night away in a club in France, or brunch in Switzerland with the massive group of Russians who all seem to know each other on a nickname basis.

“What you do so far?” Geno asks, his voice through the phone sounding tinny and just as far away as he actually is.

“Not much. Went fishing, trained, had dinner with Nate. Taylor’s coming over in a bit, and I’m prepping the beef stew our mom makes that she likes,” Sidney says, leaning the phone against his shoulder so he can fiddle with the tomato he’s trying to slice. “Tell me more about your trip. You went swimming with a shark?”

“Whale shark,” Geno says, then quickly changes the topic. “But want to hear about your day. You having fun at home?”

“So much,” Sidney says dryly. “It’s not swimming with sharks fun, but…”

Geno makes a noncommittal noise, like he’s brushing the matter off like it’s not as impressive as it sounds. “Maybe meet a nice Canadian girl finally?”

Geno’s tone is teasing, but it strikes something in Sidney that he can’t name. Something between bitter envy and disappointment in himself for crushing on someone who’d never love him and maybe even annoyance at Geno’s insistence to fix his loneliness by pushing onto him this faceless woman who is supposed to magically undo years of pining and heartache by her mere presence.

So he hears himself say, “No, no girls. I met a nice boy, though.”

Geno is quiet on the other end of the line, so Sidney pushes on, half-rambling. “We went to get burgers and a shake. It was really good, he was funny. Really sweet. He drove me back to my house and everything. He texted me if I wanted a third date and I think I might go.”

For ten terrible seconds, Geno says nothing.

“Geno?” Sidney whispers. “Geno, are you still there?”

“Yes,” Geno says, like the air has been punched out of him, but recovers so quickly that Sidney thinks he might’ve hallucinated it. “So glad you happy, find someone nice so not spend summer alone again.”

“Yeah,” Sidney says. Geno’s nothing but supportive, but somehow, in some warped level of Sidney’s understanding, it’s still, quite simply, a reminder of how Geno can’t love him the way Sidney wants him to. Doesn’t think about waking up next to Sidney and placing kiss after kiss on sleep-softened cheeks to wake him up like Sidney had often dreamed himself. Can’t be happy with Sidney the same way Sidney is when he’s around Geno, and isn’t that such a shame? “I guess so.”

“Tell me about him,” Geno demands suddenly. “What he look like? He play hockey? He nice to you?”

“Maybe next time,” Sidney lies, turning to his empty Le Creuset, sitting on the stove. “Look, I have to go, my stew’s going to boil over.”

There’ll never be a next time, not if he can help it.

Taylor’s lounging on the armchair, crunching on a bowl of chips, when she gestures at the TV, as Meg Ryan meets Tom Hanks for the first time on top of the Empire State Building.

“I think growing up with movies like this ruined me,” she says, as the instrumentals swell and Meg takes Tom’s hand. “You think when you’re an adult that falling in love with someone is going to be like this, but it’s just a bunch of people asking if you’ve hooked up with the guy and then telling you who they know who also hooked up with him, like it’s a competition. It’s kind of depressing.”

Sidney’s half-paying attention to the screen as he taps through his Snapchat feed. “Huh?”

“I’m just saying that sending someone a thirst DM is different from wooing them with roses and handwritten letters.”

Sidney frowns. “Who sent you a thirst DM?”

“No one,” Taylor says. “Hey, you know what it means? I’m impressed.”

“I’m 30, not dead.” He folds his arms, staring. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She waves her hand. “Does Thomas send you thirst DMs?”

“I’m not talking about that with you.”

“He does. See? Romance is dead. Also yeah, you’re right, I don’t want to know.” She stretches luxuriously in her seat, getting comfortable. “Geno texting you?”

“I have other friends, you know,” Sidney says.

“Yeah, me.”

“You’re not my friend,” he throws back.

“You’re right,” Taylor snickers. “You’re my mom.”

Sidney stops tapping as the screen switches to Geno’s story—the first one is of him standing next to a ridiculously long baguette, pointing at it for some reason. The next is him surrounded by roses at a flower shop, pink, red, and yellows blending into a sea of petals. Pretty! the captions says.

But Sidney’s already seen that one—Geno had sent that particular photo to him personally.

He wishes Geno would stop. He doesn’t know what else to say besides a thumbs up emoji or a ‘Nice! Looks like fun’ that sounds hollow even to himself.

So he just doesn’t respond at all anymore.

A package from France is waiting for him when Sidney gets back from his run.

Really good! Take you there next time, the scribbled note, sitting on top of the shreds of packaging and the wine, reads. Chocolates, too. Only milk chocolate, know you not like dark.

Sidney puts both in the back of his cabinet, still empty save for a couple of chicken noodle soup cans and extra, unopened cereal boxes.

If he collects more things, he wonders, will Cole Harbour feel more like a home?

Thomas is snoring next to him, one arm draped over Sidney’s stomach, when the phone buzzes next to Sidney’s cheek.

“‘ello?” he mutters.

“Hi, Sid,” Geno says. It sounds like there’s commotion wherever he is, a woman speaking and laughing floating in intermittently. “I wake you up?”

“Geno, it’s…” He stares blearily at the digital numbers glowing by the bed. “…2:14 in the morning.”

“Fuck, I get time wrong, I’m think it’s only 11—”

“What is it, G?” he cuts in, then rubs his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Is nothing, just want to hear your voice,” Geno says apologetically. “Is weird, not have to see you at 6 AM at rink every day.”

“What, you miss me or something?” Sidney says, laughing softly.

“Yes,” Geno says easily, taking Sidney’s breath away like he’s commenting on the weather. “Miss you. Every day.”

That was one of the first things Sidney fell in love with, the uncomplicated way Geno dealt with the world. If Geno sees crème brulee on the menu, he orders it. If he sees a pretty girl he likes, he asks if she’d like to dance. If he knows Sidney is having a bad day, he drives over with donuts from Sidney’s favorite guilty pleasure bakery and talks about his family until Sidney forgets why he was frustrated in the first place. If he loves someone, he loves them with his whole heart that it’s almost palpable. It makes Sidney fantasize of such impossible things that he often tricks himself into thinking that maybe, just maybe, if he waits long enough, today will be different.

“You seem to be having a great time without me.”

“Yes, is fun,” he replies. “But think would be more fun with you. See cheesecake yesterday, think, Sidney would love, is his favorite, so I take picture. Is why I send photos, but you stop respond.”

He can’t tell Geno that he’d thought the photos were Geno’s way of chirping Sidney for being a summer shut-in. Can’t tell him that he knows those photos must be documenting Geno’s dates, and who’s on the other side of the camera, out of frame, and how dreadfully empty it makes him feel, without sounding like a jealous, self-centered creep.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t know.”

“Is okay, just call to make sure you not die alone in little Canadian cabin,” he says, and Sidney could hear that crooked smile in that tone.

“It’s not a cabin, it’s a real house—”

“Sid?” Thomas murmurs, squinting awake. Sidney nearly jolts off the mattress. “Wha’s happening? Is morning?”

“No, it’s still early, I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand over the speaker. “I should’ve taken this outside—”

“Who’s that?” Geno asks. His voice sounds brittle, but it might just be the connection. “Is that—”

“Hey, listen, I’ll call you back,” Sidney say quickly, turning to his side. “And happy early birthday. It’s coming soon, isn’t it? A week? No, two.”

“Yeah, you remember,” Geno says faintly.

“Of course I remember, it’s important. Circled it on my calendar and everything,” Sidney says.

That gets Geno to laugh. “You not just save on phone? Like old man, Sid.”

“I like writing things down, helps me remember.” Sidney pulls the covers up, settling back down. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Geno says. “Good night, Sid.”

There’s a photo of a cheesecake in their chat the next day, dotted with chocolate chips and piped to perfection with vanilla bean crème.

Wish I was there, Sidney types back.

Bring some back for you, Geno writes immediately, even though it must be in the middle of the night for him.

Three days later, a non-descript box is sitting innocuously on his front step. An irrational side of him hopes it’s the cheesecake.

It’s not, though.

See store in Switzerland sell good luck stuff animal. Pens colors! the postcard reads, each letter rounded with Geno’s blocky handwriting. Magic bear win us every game next season.

The teddy bear’s eyes flash at Sidney, its fur clean and brushed with a gold and black bow tied handsomely around its neck. Sidney closes his eyes briefly and allows himself to pretend for a moment that it there might be something really magic about the bear, just like Geno had said.

He sends a photo of the bear, propped up against the window with the sunset and the lake as a backdrop.

He loves his new home, he writes. What should I name him?

Zhenya, Geno’s text says.

What does that mean?

)))) tell you when I see u

Thomas throws in the towel two days after Zhenya the bear arrives, so maybe it’s not such a magic bear after all.

“I’m sorry, Squid,” Taylor says, when Sidney breaks the news to her. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t think Thomas was Prince Charming or anything. And I didn’t want to tell you this before, but Mom also didn’t think too much of him after he only ate like one slice of her peach cobbler.”

“It’s okay, I’m not mad,” Sidney says, then reconsiders. “I am a little pissed. He could’ve told me he was planning on moving to New York from the start.”

Cole Harbour had never been long-term for Thomas, career-wise, which made sense now that Sidney really sits down to think about it. And yeah, Sidney’s the same way—by the end of the summer, he has to go back to Pittsburgh, but maybe a small part of him was working up the courage to ask Thomas to move with him, because that was just what people he knew did. He’s heard of rookies, freshly drafted, having their girlfriends of three weeks moving in with them, and he’s always felt a kind of inadequacy about himself.

It’s passed his mind one too many times that he’s not worth loving. He’s too strange, too awkward, too one-track minded on a career that can’t last his whole life, not enough. Sometimes he loathes sitting at team dinners and listening to his teammates talk about their girlfriends or wives or wives-to-be and babies. What used to be ‘that’ll be me someday’ has long ago morphed into ‘it’s never going to happen, you have to learn how to be happy with yourself’ along with his excuses of early morning training to get out of meeting Geno’s new girl, or being dragged to a rookie outing with their girlfriends.

He had just gotten used to coming home and seeing Thomas’ coat draped on the couch, his books scattered on the kitchen counter. He’d entertained the thought of having someone to bring to family skate and of coming home into someone’s arms after a crushing loss, and of finally forgetting his stupid hope that Geno could see him the way he wanted to be seen, that he’d just gone ahead by himself and planned everything out with the assumption that he could learn to fall in love later.

Maybe after so many years, he only wanted someone—anyone, really—on his arm to show Geno so Geno can stop looking at him with barely-concealed sympathy.

(Poor Sidney, is what Geno must think. Poor, poor, lonely Sidney. Unloved, unwanted. What a shame it is, to be the best player in his generation but still be no one at the same time.

“I’m happy by myself,” he’d said once, and he’d been in a good mood then, and it’d almost felt true.

But when Geno had given him that expression, like he knows Sidney’s lying, it’d made him furious and devastated all at once. He’d been sick of pining silently and he’d though that was bad enough, but being pitied by that very same person is so, so much worse.

He can’t imagine what Geno would say to him if he knew how long and how much Sidney has loved him.)

So no matter how he cuts it, it’s his own fault through and through.

He didn’t cry when Thomas told him he was leaving. But everything about the living room looks like it’s missing half of someone, and the emptiness of his own house that he’d never noticed before seems more visceral than anything else at this very moment. And losing Thomas somehow makes it feel like he’s failed somehow. Failed to make another person happy. Failed to make himself happy.

“Whirlpool romance,” Taylor says. “No. It’s whirlwind. My bad.”

“More like a hot tub on low batteries romance,” Sidney says. “I don’t think it would’ve gone anywhere even if he stayed.”

“Do hot tubs run on batteries?” Taylor asks.

“Hot tubs for ants.” He sighs. “Hey, if I’m alone for the rest of my life, you’ll still visit, right?”

“Of course,” Taylor says. “You can live in my basement. I won’t even make you pay rent.” She hums as she sneaks a glance at Sidney, studying him. “You don’t have to tell me this, but. Did you love Thomas?”

“I don’t know,” Sidney says. He doesn’t know a lot of things lately.

When Geno calls him that night, Sidney doesn’t pick up.

He doesn’t pick up the next morning, the next night, or the night after that.

There’s about fifteen unread texts and five missed calls on his phone by the time Sidney falls asleep to Meg Ryan on TV sniffling, “I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly.”

Geno’s birthday comes and goes, but Sidney doesn’t realize it until the morning after, when he could barely drag himself out of bed for his run.

He misses the sunrise, and another sunset, for that matter.

“You usually go to Vail around this time, don’t you?” Flower say, his voice coming out that much louder and grainier on speaker. “Have you been in Cole Harbour the entire time?”

“I don’t need this from you,” Sidney groans. “You said this was an emergency call.”

“This is an emergency,” Flower says, his voice turning serious. “Sidney, I’m worried about you. Tanger’s worried. Phil texted me to check if you’ve died. The entire team says you’ve been living off the grid. You’re turning into Bear Grylls.”

“Off the—Flower, I’m just at home. I have a working stove and toilet and everything.”

“Is this about the Cup?”

“No, I—it’s not the Cup, no.”

“Sidney.”

“I’m serious!” There’s no other way to get Flower off his back. “I got dumped, okay? Well, I got dumped after I came home. But that’s not why I came here.”

“I’m sorry,” Flower says, not missing a beat, and he truly does sound sincere. “Do you want to talk about it? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone in Pittsburgh.”

“I wasn’t.” He gulps down the lump in his throat. “I met him when I was grocery shopping here. It’s not a big deal.”

Flower is silent, but Sidney can almost hear the gears in his head turning.

“Is he Russian?” is the first thing Flower says.

“Is he—what? No, why does everyone keep asking that?”

“Just wondering. Hey, does Geno know?”

“He knows.” Sidney starts to pick at a loose thread on his t-shirt. “I didn’t tell him the details though, but he tried to ask.”

“You can’t hide from Geno forever, you know.”

“I’m not hiding from anyone,” Sidney says defensively.

“Well, Geno’s texted me about a dozen times asking if I knew what you were up to. I keep telling him that I’m literally equally as far from you physically, but he’s not getting it.” Flower goes on before Sidney can cut in, “All I’m saying is, at least call him so he doesn’t worry himself into a heart attack in Russia.”

“I’ll call later,” Sidney says.

“I’ll find out if you didn’t,” Flower sing-songs, then sobers up. “I really will. I’m the next person in his panic-queue.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Oh, and Sid? One more thing. You know we all love you, right? I don’t care who you date. We’d all like to meet them whenever you’re ready.”

Sidney swallows thickly, biting this lip and willing himself not to break. “Love you too, Flower.”

“I just want you to be happy. Geno does, too.”

“We’re on the same page then,” Sidney laughs, a little throatily.

“Hi, G,” Sidney says, clutching his pillow to his chest. He’s a little too drunk on Geno’s bottle and his entire body feels like he’s fighting to swim against a current of goo when he crawled from the kitchen back into bed. “Happy belated birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t call—I—I should’ve called. I saw the penguins you had on your story. Really cute.”

“Birthday few days ago. Is almost your birthday now,” Geno murmurs warmly, sounding so familiar and wonderful that it churns painfully at Sidney’s insides. He sounds glad to hear Sidney, and if that doesn’t make the guilt bite harder. “Is so late there. You not sleep? Break routine, is end of world.”

“It’s not that late.”

“Should be 2 AM there.” Silence, then, “Everything okay?”

That was all it took, apparently.

“Not really,” Sidney croaks out, his throat catching, then loses it completely.

“Oh, Sid, Sid,” Geno is saying, as Sidney tries to steady his own breathing. “Slow down, I’m—I’m not understand—is okay, you’ll be okay. Shh, Sid, shh. Is okay.”

He can’t, as much as he wants to. He’s making a mess of his sleeve and he’s halfway baffled because he hadn’t cried when Thomas collected his things, hadn’t cried in what seems to be years. But now, he’s gasping like all the air’s been vacuumed out from the room, and bitter, pathetic, unrelenting tears are falling like there’s nothing that can possibly fix him. Like he’s eight again, still afraid of the parents during games shouting ugly, ugly words at him, afraid of the other players coming at him with the intent to shatter, afraid he’ll be fighting alone until he does break in two and can’t tape himself back together like usual.

“‘t’s just me again,” he blubbers out. He doesn’t think the noises he’s making sound human. “I thought I could love him but I was just being selfish. He didn’t want me and you don’t want me and I’m back in this house by myself and I miss you.”

Geno clucks his tongue, like someone had driven a spear through his chest. “Sidney—”

“I miss you so fucking bad, but I’m so stupid because I know you have a girlfriend, and that’s okay. That’s—that’s awesome for you, that’s—I’m glad you’re happy. I want you to be. But you keep sending me photos and saying you wished I were there, and I keep waking up pretending that maybe today, I can make you happy—”

“Sidney, no, is not stupid. You—you make me most happy, I do want you—”

(A part of Sidney wishes that if Geno says his name enough times, it’d be enough to sew his own heart back together, enough to make him whole and good enough for someone to want to stay.)

“No, you don’t. Not like that.” The tears are coming out slower now, the flood now being replaced with something sour and shameful. “That’s why I’ve been staying in Cole Harbour. I want to go home but I’m already home. I don’t know what to do.”

“Sid,” Geno says again, firmly. “You have bear?”

“Bear?” He blinks—the world is a fuzzy blur around him. “Wha?”

“Bear I give you,” Geno insists. “You have?”

“Zhenya?” Sidney looks at the windowsill. Zhenya the Bear had been keeping watch across the lake all this time, facing away from Sidney, like he’s gazing across it all to wherever Geno is. “I have him.”

Geno falters at the name. “Sid, before I not tell you what bear name mean. Want to make surprise, but can’t wait. Sid, you listen?”

He nods, forgetting Geno can’t see him. “Yeah,” he says, his voice coming out reedy.

“Zhenya is special name, save for most important people, people I love.” Geno continues softly, “Save for family, and now save for you. You understand? Is my nickname. I’m give you bear because can’t be there right now with you. Is silly, maybe is embarrassing thing for babies, but I see him in store, and I think is best way to show you. You have my name. You have Geno, you have Zhenya, you have me. Always have me.”

It’s too much. The alcohol and the declaration is blending together into confusion and exhaustion.

“Zhenya,” Sidney tells him, barely able to keep his eyes open any longer. “I’m so tired.”

“Go sleep, Sid,” Geno says. “Is very late. Need wake up at 5 AM and be best hockey player in world.”

“Don’t go,” he sniffs. He’s sure he’s nearly incoherent at this point. “Please don’t go.”

“I’m not hang up,” Geno promises. “Sleep. I’m tell you my day with Mama. Go visit her yesterday, because she want to make this cookie, is like childhood dessert for me and Denis, very old recipe—”

Sidney doesn’t even make it past the second sentence before he’s out like a light.

“Where are you, man?” Nate’s voice crackles through on the receiver. “I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes. I think this old lady thinks I got stood up. Or I’m loitering. Maybe both.”

“Shit.” Sidney smacks a palm to his forehead. Everything hurts—his head, his eyes, his insides. “I’m so sorry, I overslept. Fuck, I’m getting up now.”

He sits up, and immediately doubles over. He has to take several seconds before the nausea subsides.

Nate makes a concerned noise. “You okay? We can reschedule.”

“Yeah, yeah, that might…” Deep breathes. “Might be the best.”

He fumbles for his phone, then notices the four hour call with Geno on his history, and everything comes back like a slap.

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he starts dry heaving.

“Geno? Hi, I’m—I want to apologize for…for everything. It was unfair of me to put that on y—I should’ve never said anything. Please give me a call back. I’m sorry.”

Ten messages later, and Sidney’s notifications remain silent for the first time in months.

“I messed up, Flower,” Sidney garbles out. “I messed it up.”

Flower’s murmurs do little to soothe, but Sidney holds onto his voice like a lifeline.

The days come and go as usual, and Sidney still wakes up with the sun. Only now it seems that much quieter.

Sidney’s sitting on the docks, his legs dangling over the edge as the music and laughter from his backyard plays on like a half-forgotten soundtrack. Thirty-one and still the same as he was when he was eighteen, lonely and tired and feeling like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, only now he’s admitting that his knees are buckling.

“What did you wish for?” Taylor asks, when he’d blown out the candles a few moments ago.

A miracle, he thinks.

“A Cup, what else?” he fibs, and his friends laugh uproariously as they yell, ‘Don’t say it out loud, you’ll jinx it!’ His father pats him on the back, and Taylor looks so sad and lost for him that he has to turn away, excusing himself from the crowd.

He hears footsteps creaking up behind him, and he sighs. “Taylor, I’ll be back in a bit, I just wanted some air—”

“Sid, you miss own party?” the voice says softly.

Sidney whips around so quickly he nearly topples himself off the ledge. The same face, same eyes, same smile that Sidney has loved for years and years, standing on the docks holding a lopsided chocolate chip cheesecake that looks like it’s seen better days.

“Is that—” He points at Geno’s hands. He can’t breathe. “Did you—”

“Made it with Taylor, couldn’t bring back the one I see in Russia. Not the same but…hope is still taste good.” He sets the cake down, takes one hesitant step forward. “Happy birthday, Sid.”

Sidney scrambles to his feet and flies into Geno’s open arms. He almost trips at the last step on that one creaky floorboard that he keeps telling himself he should fix before he goes back to Pittsburgh, but Geno reaches out, catches him and holds him close like he can’t imagine ever letting Sidney go in the first place.

“Should have come sooner, sorry take so long,” Geno murmurs into Sidney’s curls. “Should have come with you to Cole Harbour from beginning. Want to tell you how I feel at end of season, but then you say you already date someone, and I’m get scared—at first, you know, think need to be happy for you, but maybe not so good at it because I’m send pictures and things anyways to try win you back and hope not too late—then you call, and—”

“But you’re the one dating someone else,” Sidney hiccups out.

Geno places his hand tenderly on Sidney’s cheek, like he’s cupping Sidney’s entire soul. “Always been you. I’m just waiting for you.”

“Geno,” Sidney says. His heart feels like it’s being pulled taut like piano strings, crying out everything he can’t articulate as he hopes that Geno understands. “Zhenya.”

Geno clasps his hand, the other one tipping up Sidney’s chin to place one, two kisses on Sidney’s reddened cheeks. “Don’t cry, Sid.”

He doesn’t care as he misses another sunset, not when Geno’s bending him back to kiss him right, tender and sweet.

“How long are you staying?” Sidney gasps out, because he has to know. “When’s your flight back?”

“Oh, Sid,” Geno laughs, bright and airy, and it’s really such a wonderful thing to hear. “I’m just come home, why I’m go again?”

He closes his eyes as Geno leans in for the third kiss, as his own once-still heart finally, finally lurches that blissful two beats forward that he’s been waiting for.

#blue bayou fic #here it is #sid/omc tw #also....sid is emotional tw i guess #there's no real plot its just like big pining i guess #the pining fic #sidgeno #ALSO it did end up being a little different from the original

362 notes · View notes

spacebookettes · 3 years

Text

Cendiary Inn: a real goose tale

Aunty Cripplesworth was thought by many to be the second coming, and not on the side of her up there. Aunty Cripplesworth ran the pub with a platinum fist. Due to the large rings and bangles of the precious substance on her fighting hand. Many a drunk almost met their end at the end of Aunty Cripplesworth’s fighting hand. Aunty Cripplesworth loved cocktails and as you can imagine running a pub she’d had plenty of practise with them. In fact Aunty Cripplesworth was really the only person who drank cocktails in Cendiary bay. Only her and aunty Codswallop, the local uber drunk and manager of the solar powered fish distributer: many a full haddock had been wrongfully delivered to a bemused green grocer, museum manager, town haller and more, around the country because of drunk Codswallop.

Aunty Cripplesworth had a dog, Vanquish was her name... Aunty Cripplesworth also liked Aston Martins; though she’d only ever driven one once: when one posh person stopped off at the pub to ask directions. and when Aunty Cripplesworth saw the Aston Martin key fob he was holding, she insisted on personally showing him to his destination. “I’ll drive.”

The massive flock of geese was out foraging in the fields that overlook Cendiary bay. A couple new to the area are walking next to the fields totally in awe of that many geese. Their little dog isn’t so in awe and as all little dogs seem to be, angry at the mass of angry white feathers. Yes that’s right the geese don’t Get the dog at all. The dog lives a long happy life. The couple wander into a small patch of forest in one corner of the fields overlooking Cendiary bay. Mossy covered, peculiarly round rocks are scattered everywhere in the darkened under canopy. It’s damp here and cool. They hear a rasping goose call deep in the undergrowth. Earlier that day in the pub the couple had said they were off for a walk and Aunty Cripplesworth had warned them about the escaped goose said to roam the countryside around Cendiary bay. “They say it was Granny Bluntscar’s favourite bird, one she had personally trained to be a vicious little thug.” When the couple left the pub, the whole place up roared with laughter at the tale. The couple heard this and carried on their walk in peace. Peace until they heard the goose call deep in the forest funk. The little dog was off, sprinting into the moss and darkness in the direction of the imagined worse goose in existence. The couple called the little dogs name all they heard back was an angry goose bellow. Aunty Cripplesworth had paid the local kids to go up to the forest and scare the couple with a biodegradable plasticised goose whistle. The little girls enjoyed their afternoon of scares at the expense of the couple. When the concerned looking pair had come back into town saying how they’d lost their dog, only to find it sat in the pub next to Vanquish, gnawing on a giant dog treat. The locals all laughed and bought the couple a couple of stiffening drinks.

Later that night as Aunty Cripplesworth secured the pub and walked toward her little solar powered cottage: Vanquish left on guard, she was alone in the dark. Only a 5 minute walk between her and a Slippery Nipple palette cleanser. A shadow moved behind her, this shadow seemed to glow a low luminous white, tall and wide. A giant low luminous white feather was in the pathway before Aunty Cripplesworth. She stopped to look at it; massive half a meter long she had never seen such a thing. She bent down to pick it up... engine grease oozed onto her hands from underneath the feather. Aunty Cripplesworth grabbed an older woman’s tissue from her pocket and tried to wipe the ooze off of her hands, she couldn’t get it all off and stood huffing at the challenge. An uncharacteristically timed dove hooted somewhere in the distance. This made Aunty Cripplesworth look around, her eyes focused on the tall white shape that was following her. Her eyes were accustomed to the dark, but she couldn’t make out what the shape was. And then it evaporated backwards into the gloom of the night. Aunty Cripplesworth had only been scared once before in her adult life, and this second time was so unfamiliar to her she sprinted in the opposite direction full pelt towards the solar powered police station near the centre of a rebuilt Cendiary bay.

The whole town heard about it the next day... something had scared Aunty Cripplesworth. Incredible! Aunty Cripplesworth didn’t become the town laughing stock... no one dare laugh, incase Aunty Cripplesworth heard about it. But perhaps the occasional chuckle about it in their sleeps.

Aunty Cripplesworth looked down at her still grubby stained fingers and demanded a forensic test of the residue. The local police took the swabs and when an unusual for those parts forensic evidence kit was sent to the big solar powered city... and a surprised forensic scientist emailed the results to the police station in Cendiary bay (with a giggle, they hadn’t heard of an Aunty Cripplesworth.) That came back as engine oil and Aunty Cripplesworth slammed the door of the police station so hard it jammed and the local police had to be rescued by the Cendiary bay fire service. Aunty Cripplesworth had been so convinced the test result would come back as Mystical Unknown Substance. Aunty Cripplesworth got that Slippery Nipple and fourteen after it. The Cendiary Inn didn’t open for two days. And when the locals saw Aunty Cripplesworth unlocking the pub they all piled in to have a gander.

Life soon turned back to normal in the Cediary Inn, though Vanquish no longer guarded the pub after hours.

One month exactly after Aunty Cripplesworth's experience, she was securing the pub after hours. Vanquish suddenly ran off into the darkness. Aunty Cripplesworth heard an uncharacteristically timed dove hoot and quickly unsecured the pub and went back inside... this was the third time she'd been scared her whole adult life and now she was also angry. A platinum (plated) baseball bat was retrieved from behind the bar and one conflicted Aunty dashed off into the night in the direction of Vanquish. Nothing, no sound on a night with seemingly no atmosphere. Not even a slight breeze. Aunty felt insecure. Aunty Cripplesworth came back to the pub un Vanquished. Sat on the bar top was another giant white feather... no ooze though. Aunty had had enough. The forensic test had worked into her subconscious and dampened the supernatural imaginings in her brain. Aunty was fumming she smashed the bar top. She smashed a chair up. She was going to find something else to smash when Vanquish came back into the pub with a slobbery fussing for Aunty Cripplesworth. She mellowed with the relief; looked around at the mess and shrugged nonchalantly. Though Aunty Cripplesworth didn’t own the Cendiary Inn, she just ran it for someone else... it was more of a self appointed managerial position. The owners had slunk off to an unplanned early retirement.

The end

By Peter Stringer

Grandma’s bag

Grandma had Devils Food Crystalised Cherries in her bag, inside a small biodegradable plasticised baglette. The kids knew she’d at some point open the bag and give them all one each; spaced out throughout the day, they’d hear the handbag latch click and come running the little devils. Mom grinned at the sight. Have you a bag mum, mom called out. In the pantry was a large biodegradable plasticised bag filled with screwed up biodegradable plasticised bags. The transition away from traditional plastic bags was well under way. “they’re all the new biodegradable ones, what have you been doing with the plastic ones?” (wait for it) “oh i throw those old useless ones away" said grandma. Mom looked from the panty , through the kitchen and into the lounge... does she do it on purpose mother in law, mom wondered to herself.

The end

By Peter Stringer

Lady Mechanic

The lady of F1 racing they called her...

Lady Mechanic loved going fast. Driving fast. Motorcycling fast. Hand gliding fast. Go karting fast. It had been not so much roller blading these older days.

No she didn’t drive F1 cars don’t worry lads, I’ll leave you that. No, she helped design them. Owner of Mc Rarri F1 team and Slikmouth F1 race track. She liked to tinker with the racing technology of the future. Of course once the driverless cars started competing and literally lightning reflexes made F1 even ‘more' exciting; there was less need for human racers. The advertisement deals became more electronic focused. In fact F1 teams also design for other industries, the prestige has quite a premium in the eyes of the more technological people's of the future. Lady Mechanic made the fastest F1 cars. Lady Mechanic was a celebrity. Lady Mechanic was sort after.

By Peter Stringer

Bee Light

Bee was an B student, but she got a Z for a dad. Her younger siblings thought Bee was A*. It was fathers day. Bee should be getting the presents. Her extra time with her siblings meant she didn’t have time to study for A's. Here’s to all the busy Bee Lights!

By Peter Stringer

Peak London

A cocoon of many towers, 3 of which near the clusters centre, inner facing; with fluorescence and brightness, an infinity of light boxes... Cascading in both vertical directions and a peak between of distant London. ‘Amazing’ a lawyers brain went off.

The lawyer travelling through the freshness and brilliance of west London. White buildings. TREES. Tasteful phosphorescense. The lawyer who couldn’t stop thinking about the meeting. Well the stop at some underlings office on the wrong side of the tower. That view. The others had offices with a different brightness and long views. But the lawyer felt the real business was the supposed lesser view of a science fiction dreamscape at the beginning of the 21st century.

The lawyer had heard of the young billionaire’s idea. A gargantuan city sprawling upwards and a planet left to nature. The lawyer had had a glimpse of it. An environmental lawyer who though, had a fondness for skyscrapers. How to do it??

By Peter Stringer

#short story #art #creative writing #spooky story #horror novel #comedy horror #thriller #goose #geese #flock #solar powered cottage #coast

0 notes

britbrodcast · 7 years

Text

Friday The 13th Pt.2

I was given this idea by @the-laarmy for a part 2 (and 3) of this fic, I’m so so so sorry for forgetting the TW on the first part of this series, I forgot to copy them down. It was a really stupid move.

Tags: @fandomsandanythingelse @pattonscardigan @silly-aesthetic-me @lackingroman @prinxiety-logicality-ss @sakurahayasaki @cefmua56 @princeyandanxiety @prinxietytrash @what-even-is-thiss @here-to-vent @kitsuneprideleader @01001100-01010011 @nerd-in-space @prplzorua

aNYWAYS! Warnings: Mentions of hanging, mentions of death, nightmares, knives, people panicking, suffocation, the Shadow, blood, gore.

I lope ya like it! I didn’t have enough of the fic written to post all of it so Part 3 will be posted on Halloween!

(Logic POV)

The mind is a beautiful yet terrifying thing, dreams are a mixture of both. Some nights like tonight a wondrous thing happens, a lucid dream. I close my eyes and change my surroundings.

A small park is now surrounding me, leaves crunching under my feet at every step I take. A flock of geese fly overhead. Around me children and dogs play. An elderly man feeds the geese using crumbs of bread nearby.

I walk over to the man and sit next to him. He smiles and hands me a piece of bread. I take it and feed the birds with him. The moment was peaceful, the elderly man turned towards me and spoke, “You are in grave danger smart one, the dreamscape is scared for your well being.”

I continued feeding the birds, “How͞ am ̕I ̀i͠ņ d̛ange̴r? ́No̵thi̶ng ćan ̡t̸o̡uch̢ m̀e̡ ̡b͜es̷i̴d͘es ͏t͡he ơt̨he͞r͡ ͝T́r̴ait͞ş.”̴

The man shook his head. “Old friend, that is simply not true.”

I stopped throwing crumbs and turned to face the old man,“̴I’̸m͘ p̵osi̴tive̶ I͞ ̛h̴áv̡èn̢’̢t s̕een your̵ f̡ac̶e b̵e̵f̛o͝r̶e, h͢ow ͟ar͞e ̵w͝e̵ f͜ŗíe͟n̢d́s ̀i̸f͝ ̶w҉e̴ have̷ ne͏v͏er met?”͞

The man smiled, and spoke, “No, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me,” The man's smile grew and he changed before my eyes, “after all,” said the shadow next to me, their smile seemed to radiate cold, “most people don’t remember their killer after their deaths.”

The shadow conjured a knife out of thin air and threw it at a children at play sign, the point of the blade was lodged firmly in the metal pole holding up the sign, where the head of the printed on metal child used to be was the blade, black tar was now flowing from its tip and quickly inveloping the sign, it spread and raced towards me, I started to run but I was too slow the tar had engulfed my legs and moments later covered my mouth.

I panicked, I usually don’t need to breathe unless I’m panicked or remind myself to do so, I had closed my mouth but the tar was finding other ways to enter my lungs, I could feel the black substance travel up my nose and force it’s way into my lungs, removing the air that I desperately needed, The world was already black from the tar that was covering my eyes, the inky substance getting hotter and hotter, I screamed through the inky mass of death and it immediately slithered down my throat.

the tar was now filling the giant hole that my killer The Shadow had seared through my entire being, the tar seemed to fill every pore in my body, I screamed and screamed. everything hurt, my eyes were scorched, the black hell was pulling and twisting and contorting and oh my god the pain please make it stop everything hurts why I can’t breathe, I’m dying again is this hell? I think its is pain pain pain. can’t breathe I hurt. what is happening my mind is jumbled, hurting, searing searing searing scorching burning flesh dissolving pain oh god why please make this stop.

A voice was yelling in the distance, “L͝og̶an! ̀Lơga͢n!̛ ̴Wa͝ke u͏p͜!͏”

I woke to Morality shaking my shoulders and jumping on my bed, “C'm͟o̷n̢ ͞Lo! ҉T̡hom̀as͢ ̵w̢a͝nţe͟d ̵t͠o ͠s͞ee us͠ ͠t̀oday̷!”

I almost jumped out of my skin, yes that can happen and it’s never a good experience.Cold envelops you and everything seems to be burning at the same time. I shook off the events of the night, it was only a dream. it was only a dream IT WAS only a dREAm nothing can harm me i’m intangibLe.

I jumped back into my bed for the cold was starting to take effect, I mumble into my pillow,”Wha͢t̢'s t͠he̵ t͡i̵m͟e҉?̕

“͏Ten̸ ̴‘o cl̶oçk҉.͢”̷

I grudgingly left the warm embrace of my blankets, I grabbed my glasses and followed Morality through the door, I didn't bother shutting it for it was already closed, The weird thing about intangibility is that sometimes it just doesn’t work, you can attempt to walk through a wall and instead run face first into it.

I drifted towards the direction of the commons and Morality headed towards Anxiety’s room. When I entered I could see the balcony proudly displayed, the blood still on the wall and carpet.This was the place when I last saw Roman alive, and when I say that I mean-

“G̸OOD͠ ̡M̸O҉͞͏R̀́NIN̢͠G̸ MÝ ͏F͠É͡L̨L��O̶̢͟W̨ S͢I̸D̀E̶͢S̷̵͞!̸͢”̀ ̧͏

-That he’s still annoying as ever.

I glanced towards his voice, Prince stood in front of the same banister where he was found dead and multiple weapons piercing his flesh, a giant cut shaped like a crown in his chest.

Prince stood not alive but definitely still kicking, he shouted to me, “H͏EY LO I̢ FO͜UND̡ ͘Á NÈW T͜R̸ICK͠!͠!҉”͢ He jumped from the top of the banister which was at least twenty feet in the air.

This didn't frighten me since we were already dead and falling from great heights only effect is for a minute or two but we heal quite fast, guessing from how quickly Anxiety’s arm healed after it was trapped in the idea rejection chute, (we don't know what's in there but when we discard an idea in there the sounds of grinding, blades slicing, and electricity are heard.) Virgil’s arm looked as if it was put through a wood chipper, it healed in a few minutes, the destroyed pieces of arm magically reappearing in its proper place.

Instead of Prince falling to the ground and breaking a few dozen bones his legs changed, they merged and changed into a form of tail, Prince gave a laugh triumph and flew towards the ceiling and did a backflip in mid air.

I stood frozen in shock and I mean that quite literally, my skin and being turned to ice but vanished as soon as it arrived.

“W-ẃe͡ c͡an ́f̷ly?!̶”̷ I was truly surprised, we have the ability of intangibility, invisibility, and the pain of not being able to touch or talk to living people without recording equiptment, and the ability to eat. I still don’t know where the food I eat goes after I consume it since I lost my stomach from the weird shadow, Stop that, I thought, It was just a dream. I watched the royal trait zoomed around the commons, I repeated my question since Prince was too busy doing backflips to hear me the first time.

Prince giggled “I̸ ̧gueşs͏ so,̵ ͞I f̕irs͡t ̨f͘ou̷n͢d out ̵wh͞e̷n ͏I fe͝l͡l̡ o҉f̷f ̢onę ͞of̸ ͏t͟he ̢h̡i̛g͢h͘ ̧to̢w͝er͜s i҉n͏ ́t͘he͢ M̢i͏nd pal͠ace,͢ ̕I̶ wa̶nt͜ed ̴to͏ st͟o͠p̧ ̴a̕n̵d I̕ ̴did͡,̸ ̵i̢n͝ ͏ḿid air͏.̀”

I frowned, ͞“s͝o͡ he̷íg̴hts c͜a͞use̸d y̧ou͏r͘ a͜b̡i̛lity o̷f f҉l͘i̷ght?̸”̶

Prince shook his head,“̕N͞ah͠,̸ ̧I͢ ͢t͟hink i͏t͝’s̀ pa͟nic.”

I was about to ask how he came to the conclusion when Morality came through the door with Virgil piggybacking/ trying his best to not hit his head on the door frame

“h͞éy͘ L̛-̴R̸̛O̕͏M̸̀͟A̛͟͞҉N̢͢͝͡ ͏҉̷́G҉͏E̡͜T͏̵͡͝͝ ̛̛͘͞͡B̴̕͢͢͞A̛̕C҉̵̛͠K͢͞ ͏̸͟Ǫ̶́̕͠N̷̵̸ ̴̧́͏T̨̢͟H̕҉̧͘Ę̴ ̧̧͘F̸̸̡̛̛Ļ̵̵O҉̵̶̶͢O̵̴̡͡R̀҉ ̀͝T̵͜͢H͘͠͡I̕҉̶S͝҉ ̧͝I̸̛͜͟͡N̛̛S̴̨͜͟҉T̵̵̛͡À̴̷̧̡Ǹ͝T̢̢̨͟!҉̛͜”͏̧͏ ҉̨͟

Prince and I winced and covered our now ringing ears, “S͘o̸r̨r͝y̨ ̀D̢a̵d͜.̡” ̕

The Royal Side floated back down to earth and Anxiety flew off Morality's shoulders and landed next to me. ̕"Śup͞.͢"

I blinked, “I͟ w͢a͢s̴ unawa̧re͘ t̀h̢at ͜you ̨po͡sses͡ ͝t҉h҉e ͝a͢b̷i̧lity ̸of f̛l̶i͟g̨ht a͏s͟ ̡w̶el̨l.͝” Anxiety smirked, “͡I̧ a͠m̛ ̷a͡wa̸ŗe of̷ ̕th̵i̢s͢ fac̢t̡, d͘o ̷y̵ou͞ ҉w͢a̷n̡t̴ t̕ó t҉e͠l̶ĺ ̧m̴e sơmethin̨g͡ ͜t̢ḩat͟ ̨I do̴n’t kno̷w͏?”

I glanced at Prince, “So̸ ͠th̕i͏s ìs̡ w͞hy͝ you c̨a͟me ̧t̨o t͡h̶e ̢c̶o̷n̢ćĺusìon ͢o͞f͠ p͟an̡ic̢ ͢c͟ausíng flight?͠”̡

Prince nodded, Mor ushered us to the kitchen for a breakfast but before we could do so I felt a tugging sensation, Thomas was summoning us.

I rose up from my normal spot next to the stairwell and so did the other sides. Thomas noticed me and smiled, I returned the gesture. “̨G͟ŕe͝etings͏ T͏h̷o͜ma҉s ́how ҉may ̴we b̨e ͟o͠f a͝śs̷ís̛tance̷?” ͏

Thank the mind Thomas had his recording equipment since Prince forgot to bring the tape recorder.

̢“Hey ki͡dd͜o̷!” “Ǵ̕̕͟͏Ò̵͘̕O͏̴̨͞͝D̨҉̛͠ ̛҉͞M̴̢̀͜͜O҉̴R͏̕͟N̷̶̡͡͝I̶̢͘N̷͢͝G̴͢͠!̴̧̕” ̕“͢oW͟ mÝ ͏e͟ArS!͞”̷ ̸

Thomas announced his problem, “Last night something weird happened, I had a random spike of fear but it wasn’t from Virgil.”

it took all of my resolve to not panic, I never had a nightmare where Thomas would also experience my emotions, “͟W͘h̶o do̷ y͡ou t̷h͠in͝k c͜aused͘ th̨is… f̕it̢ ̧o͠f̛ f̛rigḩt͠?”

“Well,” Thomas said, “It isn’t Morality since it’s never been this severe when he’s felt panicked and I can only feel Prince’s fear if it’s something to do with heartbreak, and something really weird happened, everything seemed to hurt, and for around an hour and a half afterwards I could see this weird shadow thing out of the corner of my eye, it kept on waving at me and it was creepy as all heck.”

The Sides froze. “W͜ha-͡what d͡i͢d ̷you j̸us͘t ͞say̧?” Morality asked,

“A giant flood of rational fear?”

Morality shook his head, "a҉f͟ter th̢at̛.́"

“That I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye for an hour and a half?”

"ye̛a ̡th̷at."

My thoughts were racing, “Is it the shadow I saw in my dream? It can’t be a coincidence, but it must be. Oh god what is it planning? What are they going to do? What a-”

“Logan” I couldn’t distinguish who the voice’s source was but it snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Lo̢, ́a͞r͏e͟ y͟o̴u͞ a̷l̵rig̸h͢t͏?̨ Y̸o͜u̢ ́w̸er͏è-” “ohmygodyourefloating.” That last voice was definitely Thomas, I opened my eyes and sure enough my feet were a few feet off the floor, I usually float and so do the others but my feet were always a few inches off the ground but this reached a completely different level. I decided to test my theory and I attempted to walk towards Virgil, I then noticed I couldn’t. My confusion increased when I attempted to move my legs and they would not respond, I looked down and found the problem; I didn’t have legs, replacing my normal legs and feet was a ghostly tail that seemed to move from a nonexistent breeze I leaned towards Thomas and to my surprise it worked.

I drifted over to Thomas, and held out my hand, he took it and pulled me back down to earth, as soon as my feet were near the floor my tail un fused and changed back into my normal legs.

“͡M̛ý ́apólo͝gíes, I ͏wa̴s̨ ńot͜ expectin͠g for͠ ̧m҉y̶ ̡t̶h̸o͘ugh͞t͘s ͜to̡ ͡t̢a̴ke f̴li͡g̛ht.”

Thomas smirked, I too was proud of my pun but his look of concern still remained, “Are you alright Lo? You were flickering from pre death to death, I frowned, pre death is what we called the form we were in when we look normal and not mutilated, death was what we looked like when we well, died. “I͝ Jùst had a҉ ͜b̧a̡d̴ dre҉am͠ ̸la̢s̴t̵ ni͢gh͜t,͘ ̷t͠hat͜’͠s ̕a̢l̕l.” I said, hopefully they won’t-“Wh҉at̡ ́w̸a̸s t̨h̨e d҉re̸a͟m͟?” shit.

I sighed, I might as well be honest to them. I explained my dream to them and when I ended my story a silence spread which blanketed anything in the room. I hate silences, especally long painful ones so I spoke again,̶“D̛oes ͟an̡yone ͢k͘now w͢h͝y͏ so̢m͞e̕t̛h̡iǹg͝ ͞o̴f ͝t̸h̸e ̶sor̕t̴ ̡would҉ occu͘r͟? T͟hi͡ś i̵şn͞’t ͢a̷ ̀norma͟l̵ th҉ing tha̴t wou̧l͏d ́h҉a͝p̀p̀e͏ņ.͏”̡

Prince nodded,“̷I̶-͟I͏ ̸t̴h҉ink we҉ ҉s̵hóu͏ld dis̢c͡uss ͞this iń t͡he ͜m͝i̛nd̨ palacȩ,̢ ̷T҉h̴ơmàs ̡w̵ou͡ļd̷ ́y͠o͘u min̕d͜ ҉adven̕tur̴iǹg w͞i͟t̀h͜ us͡ ͝to ͞sol̢vȩ ̀t͡h͟is͠ m҉y̧s̨t͢er͠y?”̛ ̕

̴“G͡reat̴.̵” I muttered ̨“I’̡m s͘t͝artin̵g t̛o̡ r̴u͞b ̶o͟ff ͏on͞ ̧R͝o͜m͢án̛.͡”

I felt myself sinking down, my body dissolving starting from my feet and ending at my head. We appeared in a new mind palace, I haven’t ventured into one since the old one we created for the Growing Up video.

When we appeared in the mind palace all of us were confused, “Well,” Thomas said as he looked around, “this is an odd choice of decor but it’ll do.”

It truly was, everything was different tones of black, corridors and doors seemed to extend from every angle, random staircases and dropoffs on the floor appeared and vanished, the walls seemed to glisten and shift as if they were alive

“̨Th͜om͟a͟s,̕ I h̡ate҉ to͝ ̕b͟r̸e͠ak̸ it̶ to y̕o͘u̢ bu͢t d̶id́n̴’͜t ͜c̕reat͞e t͠hi͏s.͞”̀ Roman looked at all of us accusingly but no one claimed the creation of the weird room.

“i DiD.” my heart dropped, I knew that voice, and it came from a very recent dream……

#angst #horror #series #friday the 13th #sander sides #thomassanders #ghost!au

20 notes · View notes

vandergelic-blog · 7 years

Note

RFA + minor trio react to MC being a total party animal or just really hyper loool

Aww my first HC request. >\

Party Animal/Hyper MC

Yoosung:

•This poor boy, you wore him out so much.

•You would always plop yourself in his lap during his LOL matches and flash a smirk at him, while he grunted trying to push you off so he could focus.

“Let’s go out honey~” You would say.

“But we went out last night, and the night before that!” He whined.

So you simply crossed your arms over your chest and huffed. “I’ll just go by myself then..”

Before you could storm off, he had grabbed your wrist and let out a groan. “Fine, we can go out. But let’s not stay too long, please? I have class tomorrow.”

He would literally do anything to make you happy, he’s too pure. Just make sure you give him all the cuddles he needs when you guys get home late that night~

Jaehee:

•Loved how active and outgoing you were. It was a trait she admired about you and something she wished she had.

•I feel like she’d be able to keep up for a little while, not being able to say no to spending time with you.

•But would eventually burn out and explain there are nights where she simply can’t do it. She feels terrible about it but it’s the honest truth.

•So instead of going out into public, y'all just stay home and get turnt to broadway music lol. That was enough for the both of you as long as you were with each other.

Zen:

Despite his hectic rehearsal schedule, Zen loved to go out! It gave him a chance to flaunt his looks when he wasn’t on stage.

Sometimes if you guys were out at a nightclub, you guys were the life of the party.

Just the ultimate couple tbh.

But there are times where he would rather just stay in with you.

Sometimes you guys would throw your own parties in your guy’s apartment with just you two. Playing Just Dance, doing karaoke, and stuffing your face with food.

You guys would even create your own little musicals.

He also loves to go out on a private date with just you and him, because the paparazzi can be too much sometimes.

You two just always have fun together, whether you’re out in public or at home. He loves your energy.

Jumin:

This CEO isn’t much of a partier, but he loves to travel with you.

Questioned your sanity at first. “How is she always so..energetic?”

Nevertheless, there would be some clubs he would go to you with, but would much rather enjoy the nightlife with you only.

Most of the time you would take him to fun “commoner” activities..like rollerskating, or a carnival!

He grew to actually really like rollerskating? I feel like he would be a pro at it, and just be gliding across the rink like it was nobody’s business lmao.

Oh, and when you introduced him to cat cafe’s.. his mind was blown and his heart was full.

“I must open one up in Elizabeth’s name.. it could have rollerskating as well. I could develop rollerskates for cats so they could do it with the guests.”

JAEHEE RUN

This guy loves you and loves exploring and trying new things out with you!!

Seven:

This guy honestly loved to party as much as you did, when he wasn’t being a distant little shit.

Just like Zen, you two would be the center of attention I feel like. You both were just obnoxious and hyperactive.

Y’all usually caused a scene wherever you went because of your shenanigans.

Once you guys got kicked out of Walmart for doing the floor is lava challenge and Seven jumped into the thing that holds all the bouncy balls sending them flying everywhere, while you jumped onto a stack on packaged toilet paper making the whole thing topple down.

Seriously guys what the fuck is wrong with you we can never take you anywhere without causing a mESS

YOU GUYS JUST ALWAYS HAVE THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE OKAY

AND HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH FOR IT BECAUSE HE NEVER HAD ANYONE IN HIS LIFE HE COULD DO THIS WITH

BECAUSE THEY WOULD JUST SMACK HIM UP HIS HEAD

OR TASER HIM (VANDERWOOD PLS)

BUT YOU JUST GO ALONG WITH IT!!

JUST THANK YOU FOR BEING THIS GUY’S HAPPINESS AND BEING AS WEIRD AS HE IS CAUSE HE DESERVES IT.

Saeran:

The last party he went to he was fucking brainwashed.

This little guy would be so anxious oh GOD, please be gentle and go easy on him please.

Sometimes your hyper-ness would get on his nerves and he would give you one of his ~death~ glares in hopes to get you to stop.

But you don’t and you just keep on rambling and being a weirdo.

How did I fall for someone like this she’s just like my brother if not even worse why do i do this to myself-

At the parties you did get him to go to, he would just sit in the corner with a dead face like the emo child he is.

A drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other as he watches you bust out ridiculous dance moves in front of him in an attempt to lighten his mood, but all you got was an exasperated sigh.

“imissmyreligiouscult”

sAE RAN PLEASE

When he’s had enough he would say “Let’s go.” in a blunt voice and if you refused he would pick you up and throw you over his shoulder and exit the building, ignoring all your complaints.

To be honest, he would much rather just cuddle with you and talk about random shit.

He enjoys private intimate moments with you where everything is just calm because his life has been so hectic from day 1.

He thought you were adorable and loved how full of life you were.

He would much rather just be in your arms or vice versa.

He would never admit that tho.

little btich

When you said that you liked to go out..he didn’t know you meant..nightclubs and wild parties.

I really don’t think you guys would ever go out and party like that!! Maybe once in awhile but definitely not frequently.

And you would be perfectly fine with that because this guy is the love of your life alright.

Instead of going out, you guys would like to bicycle together! (THIS IS IF HE COULD SEE OK OMG IMAGINE V TRYING TO RIDE A BIKE IF HE WAS BLINDJKS)

You guys would bike around the park or to the zoo or whatever!

Have little picnics with each other beneath a cherry blossom tree and feed the geese in the lakes. Despite the sign that says DON’T FEED THE GEESE.

Would take many pictures of you and the scenery.

You would also do mini photoshoots of him!! He always says he likes to capture art BUT YET HAS NEVER TAKEN A SINGLE PICTURE OF HIMSELF WTF

This dude loves to spend every second of his days with you, would often take you on his trips~

Vanderwood:

This guy wasn’t going out to no damn party where there would be drunk people, sweat and vomit everywhere ok.

HE WASN’T HAVING IT.

Only time he would go out is to get discounted cleaning supplies from Walgreens-

“Wait, what?”

“Bowling?”

“what is that wha t”

So you take him to a nice bowling hangout

Uh MC why do I have to change my shoes???? they don’t go with my leopard print. im not taking off my gloves either its not happening

omg shut up and just do it vanderbaby

he’s scoffing as he puts on the shoes, upset that it’s ruining his ~style~

“So..I have to slide this ball at the pins and knock them down?”

“Can I pretend the pins are Seven?”

After telling him yes he’s literally chucking the ball down the damn aisle

is petty AS FUCK WHEN IT MISSES AND GOES STRAIGHT OUT OF THE LANE

WHAT THE HELL I CAN SHOOT A GUN BUT I CANT FUCKING BOWL

keeps his cool tho, pretends like it’s not even his fault, makes up excuses

“it’s rigged, they slicked the alley with some type of liquid so that’s why my balls keep missing.”

“did u just say… my balls”

“god MC shut up you act like you’re the best but honestly you suck just as much as i d-”

DID YOU JUST FREAKING GET A STRIKE WTF ALKJFKL

Gets super competitive suddenly, and eventually once he gets the hang of it he beats your ass then pretends like he wasn’t even phased

like no he wasn’t even trying man it was just natural, he didn’t become a special agent for nothing

like he would subtly rub his win in your face and console you like you were ACTUALLY upset

“it’s okay maybe next time honestly i wasn’t expecting to win im just as shocked as you, ya know”

god vanderwood just shut up and take me home

anyways he doesn’t mind going out with you, he enjoys it actually but he wont admit that to you either

#mystic messenger hc #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme hc #mystic messenger 707 #luciel choi #saeran choi #hyun ryu #zen #jaehee kang #yoosung kim #jumin han #vanderwood #jihyun kim #vanderweek

141 notes · View notes

tristanlovesthequeen · 3 years

Text

Son/of/Aragon

Son of Aragon

Episode 1

We find Basels son Sergio on horseback on the path to the brewery. There are moths and pollen in the air, everywhere there is beauty. The world whispers.

Besel: Hello, dear reader, I am Basel the ancient wizard. I have gone on holiday, away from general wizardry and heroism to stay with my dear friends. Who are they? The elven monks who run the brewery Eastvleteran, the namesake of which is also a drink which I helped invent.

(Enter into Basel's chamber where he is working on an illuminated manuscript. Tic toc tic toc a timer is ticking in the background. The timer dings)!

Basel: Ahh time for dinner to be cooked. (Puts rabbit chunks in pot of stew. Sets aside rabbit skin in a bowl). That will be for the rabbit skin glue. We'll let that churn a bit. Ah yes, now back to my manuscript. What's the occasion you say? Behold...(Basel sits at desk, page zooms in on manuscript page.

(In story mode)

Basel: It all started with an empty amulet. The amulet was a gift from the elven god Adrifan, god of the ether realm to his love interest, the the high priestess of the celts, Apixa. Her beauty was reknowned throughout heaven and earth. She was born of this world from the stamen of a forest flower, fertilized by a sacred spirit, who was rebirthed as a bee on his visit from the heavens. Her family were the fairies who lived in the woods that encapsulated this forest flower. The elf found her one day while hunting geese at a nearby pond. He saw her amongst the tall reeds bathing. It was love at first sight. You may wonder what this has to do with anything. It is an ancient elven secret that the monks have kept. On every anniversary of the meeting of Adrifan and Apixa, a warrior who is righteous in spirit and will retrieve the amulet from the sacred place, and return it to the elven kingdom for the ceremony of restoration. The transporters of the heart will receive knighthood in the elven kingdom and the ceremony brings purity back to the elves.

(Three raps at the door and Basel answers to find Sergio at the door).

Basel: Sergio my boy! I've been expecting you! Come right in, you are most welcome.

(Sergio is not the only one looking for Basel. A demi-vampire has been following Sergio through the woods in the form of a bat).

Sergio and Basel sit down to Mugwort tea.

Sergio: (Holding cup). How have you been pop?

Basel: (Takes sip). I'm glad you asked. It was happenstance that I found myself in Whimzleton at the National Gallery in a meeting with the portraits of the Greats. While discussing Fair Trade Diamonds, a thief stole a minor work called “Reclining Nude of Grizelda,” done by the late fauvist painter Rees Van Livingston, c. 1905. He was attacked by a museum guard with a billyclub, poor boy, and as he fell, he ripped right through the canvas face first. This, of course, was in front of the fair trade diamond protest of the gnomes of the North, which is why I was there in the first place. The leader of the protest started to shout on his blowhorn, which aggrivated the guard. People started to argue which was disrupting my meeting, and, before a riot could assue, I cast a spell to freeze time. I cast another spell that healed the thief, flawlessly stitched the painting, and wiped the memories of the crowd. When the authorities arrived, everyone was very confused as to why the thief was carrying the painting through the museum in the first place, casually observing the main hall. He was arrested on the spot and the painting was returned to the museum, an amalgam of errors easily removed.

Stake: (Arrives at window as a bat). Screech Screech!

Basel: (Noticing window). Stake! Show your true form my lad, you could have given an old wizard like me a cardiac arrest! Not that I would succumb to such candor. (Opens door).

(The bat turns into his elf-like form).

Basel: Ah good, just in time for supper. Stake, would you come in?

Stake: I thought you'd never ask.

Basel: (Takes sip from ladle over stove). Please sit, the rabbit stew is ready. (Places a bowl of stew in front of Sergio and one in front of Stake with a spoon. Sergio begins to slurp).

Sergio: How do you two know each other?

Basel: Stake is a knight here on elven territory.

Sergio: Then why was he...(motions toward window).

Stake: I am also part vampire. I'd say, half elf, half vampire. Dema-elf. After all my years as a knight, I have been assigned this year to retrieve the sacred amulet due to my condition as a vampire. After the way my wife and I were transformed, the elven society believes my life to be unhealthy. The constant blood lust is the source of constant ridicule for my fellow knights, however shallow it may be. So I have come to find you, Sergio, to accompany me on this quest.

Basel: The high priestess has given me a wind chime that enchants the spirit, allows one to see the location of the amulet, the prize gift from the warrior spirit. I will be your guide.

Sergio: Wait what? I was eating soup.

Basel: I said you're going on this trip, it will be a great diservice to everyone if--

Sergio: Relax, I heard you the first time. Why me?

Stake: Given your superior strengths as a wizard--

Sergio: Yeah, I got ya, very powerful mage, yadda yadda, when do we leave?

(They set off on their journey Sergio on a giant lion. Stake is a bat. First location is the forest. They travel along the coast and stop for the night).

Stake: Let's stop for the night, we'll resume tomorrow.

Sergio: Oh you mean we'll be alive tomorrow? Super.

Stake: Mmmaybe. I will. You might not make it.

(Stake and Sergio set up camp and Stake start to read by the fire).

Sergio: (In a thought bubble). Sometimes I start to read and realize the words are about me. Take for example, this part of the book. This actually happened to me. I must be famous or something.

(In the text) There was one time when I tried to get Satan Himself to help stop my pop from controlling Earth realm. He was offended. And when Satan is offended, all hell breaks loose, literally.

(Sergio hides behind a 1968 Pontiac GTO waiting to attack. Bullets fly over him. He is in Hell. Hell looks like a cavern underneath the earth. He pops up and shoots flame from his hands at his attacker who is Satan.

Satan leaps into the air with a tommy gun narrowly avoiding Sergio's attack. He lands in a drop kick knocking Sergio flat.

Sergio kip ups and one of Satan's minions tries to run him over in an El Dorado Super Sport. Sergio back flips over the car and it t-bones into the shelled out GTO. The minion is dead, smashed through the glass, on the hood.

Sergio: Just come with me politely and I won't fry you to a crisp.

Satan: What am I a cuck, Sergee? How long have I known thee?

The devil spins into the air letting out a spiral of bullets.

Serge leaps under the devil, grabs his legs and slams him into the hood of the GTO with a cold shoulder.

Satan: Yowee!!

Sergio: You goddamn snake! Keep off me!

(They roll off the hood of the car and the devil gun butts Sergio's jaw. Serge puts his two hands to the devil's gut and torches him up into the air. Faroosh! Cut to devil's face, it says radio edit over his mouth like a type writer. Devil lands on his feet with a crunch! It cracks the ground).

Satan: You think you can contain me? I am the devil!

Serge snaps his fingers and a diver's cage drops on the devil.

Satan: Daww. (Slumps in cage) So anyways... (walks out of cage through front door). May I offer you a cigar? (Take out couple of cigars).

Sergio: Naw I don't smoke. Spits. Wipes mouth.

Satan: If you say you don't. What is it that you want me to do Sergio? (Checks scratch on arm).

Sergio: It's my Dad, he's attempting to take over Earth realm again. I need--

Satan: Eh, you want.

Sergio: I want you to come serve him up a slice of devil's pie.

Satan: With you? Please, Sergee, what a bum you're being. Who am I with? I live in hell! I'm the guy that never leaves, y'know Prince of Darkness, has wife, grandkids, little brats, minions, y'know the whole shebang. What do I care what goes on on Earth? I live in the immortal afterrealm. You're threatening my whole way of being, here.

Sergio: Don't be a dipshit. The more deaths there are on earth caused on Earth by my father, the larger his undead army will become, his army will become stronger while your army diminishes.

Satan: What has he lost his shit again? In other words hell on earth. Look kid, I'm already slaying princess Leia, my army of minions is well established and only really comes in handy when fighting against the heavens. Hell on Earth? Let those guys deal with it (points upward)

Sergio: Forget I even asked. Thanks for the fight.

Stake: (In a thought bubble). I have on occasion, dealt with the devil, and like all full blooded vampires, he only cares for himself.

Sergio: (In a thought bubble). Can't say I care for him. (Voice bubble) One thing I have been meaning to ask you, can't believe I didn't get around to it sooner, you're a daywalker right? (Lays back on Leo).

Stake: Correct. I would consider myself half elf. That is elven born. It is for this reason that I haven't completely been overcome by vampire desires. (Fades to dream) In 1869 I was to be married to an elven princess. Her beauty was unparalleled. We were madly in love and would often take trysts in the forest where we would... shag about. I was to travel off to war with the elven army, the king had made plans with the gnomes to sell one thousand pieces of elven chain mail and they had scoffed at his offer, saying gnomish grade metal would suffice. On top of that a gnome had seduced an elvish chambermaid during his stay at a hospital on our land. Needless to say, a victorian era elven king is not the most easygoing person hood, and in the face of the gnomes' offense, he called for a draconian response. Before we set off, and before she could pout, I asked her to be my bride. She said yes! I was so enthusiastic I asked for the royal hall to throw a ball after the wedding ceremony. That night, as my wife lay awake in anticipation.

Vive: I desire, half crack! A vampire in the form of a bat sat outside her window.

Vampire: Dear little, wife, how my soul aches for thee. It is I, Pavel, ahem I mean Stake, wouldn't you care to see me before the wedding. I can give you what you desire...

Vive: No you can't! (crosses arms and starts to pout)

(Door starts to open with a creak)

SERGIO: Wait, what? A vampire, that seems a tad bit random.

STAKE: Almost. In a battle with Aragon's army, I had decapitated a warrior king. I later found out that with a few stitches and Aragon's magic he had been ressurected as a vampire-drago, vampire of dragon blood. From then on he had been stalking us, I had felt evil eyes watching from afar, feeling his cries that he would someday come for my bride.

SERGIO: Devilish. So she turned into a vampire?

STAKE: Yesssss. Unfortunately the bite on her neck is not all he left with. (Stake looks down and tears start to fall from his wincing face). I still recognized her as my bride as did the royal court and that night we attended the royal ball although shaken by the events prior to the wedding. She seemed faint and not all there. Frowns were upon us.

Ball attendee 1: She was raped (Turns back to wife)

Ball attendee 2: She sees someone else (Turns back to husband)

Ball attendee 3: You gave her to him. He impaled her mouth with his--

(Stake and Vive hand in hand start to frown)

(Focus on their hands clasped, they start to squeeze)

Stake: She whispered to me...

Vive: You are my fate, live with me forevermore as my sex slave, and I will seduce you every night. We will make deep passionate love in every sect of our chambers. I want you in between my thighsss...”

Stake: How was I to live without my beautiful wife, as vampirellic as she was, and with that we kissed as she sunk her teeth into my tongue. (DREAM SEQUENCE ENDS)

SERGIO: What happened to the vampire that turned her?

STAKE: I still feel his taunts, he is seldomly ever seen or heard from, especially not in the elven kingdom and as a vampire I feel akin to him in some ways which makes it impossible to kill him.

SERGIO: So why seek the amulet?

STAKE: It will cure my bloodlust and that of my wife. The elves still ridicule me even though it is under their breath. Once worn one is immediately cured from that which guilts him. Only those who know it's true location can don it, and it is said to bring euphoria to those who wear it, which might make it difficult to take off.

SERGIO: Sounds interesting. Well I'm feeling glum. Time for me nap.

(Dream Sequence)

(Sergio sees Aragon at his crystal ball. A covered with hands appears and it is Basel ringing the windchime. He turns.

Basel: Sergio my dear boy! So glad I have found you. (Dog barks). Down girl down! Good girl. You deserve a treat. The ring of the windchime is leading us out of the forest to the city of Yarx. You and Stake should have no trouble finding it if you continue east. Watch for the temple in the midst of the forest.

Crystal ball starts to crack and Aragon's eyes roll back as he faints. Dream fades and it is dawn. Serge yawns and stretches. He is propped on Leo. She opens one eye and goes back to sleep. He has been riding the lion since he was a boy and they have a deep bond. Whatever happens to the lion in essence happens to Sergio. Stake is still asleep. He farts. There is a raccoon corpse next to him drained from the night before. A nightingale lands on his napsack and starts to sing green sleeves. He hisses and snatches at it with his eyes closed and it flies away. He is awake. Serge throws some beans and eggs on the griddle atop the fire.))

Serge: Want some?

Stake: Yes'm.

Serge: Basel contacted me in a dream. We're to head east to Yarx.

((Cut to scene of tavelling through jungle. Sergio is on the lion, Stake is flying as a bat. We're going on a lion hunt. Trudge, trudge, trudge. A hidden temple! Can't go under it. Trudge, trudge, trudge. Can't go through it. Trudge, trudge, trudge. Gotta go over it! Trudge. They hike up the temple steps into the throne room. It is made of stone with torches alight along the walls. There are one million bananas in a pile against the back wall.))

Tiger: Roarr! ((A tiger runs out at them and the lion leaps in front of her bucking Sergio onto the ground. They get up into each other's personal spaces and grapple. RAWOORAWOO! A banana salesman boomerangs a banana at the tiger.

Banana salesman: Now Catsy! That's not how we treat our new guests! (Wearing underwear. Pets Catsy under jaw as she purrs.) I've been in this temple hoarding bananas. It is how I gain my bride. Do you know how long it takes to hoard a million bananas? Speak!

Serge: Can't say.

Banana Salesman: (Putting on overalls) Not that long actually. You see they're everywhere. Me and Catsy here maintain the stock. What brings you to the jungle?

Sergio: We're on our way to Yarx coming from an elven monastery. This is the only way through. I'm Sergio, this is Stake.

Banana salesman: How about the cat?

Sergio: The lion's name is Castle.

Banana salesman: My name is True. I'm actually on my way to Yarx. I've got a big rig. If you help me load the bananas I'd be more than happy to take you the rest of the way. (Stake and Serge look at each other and shrug.)

True: Load em up!! (True has created an incredible machine to load the bananas. Serge pops a balloon with a force wave. A feather escapes and tickles the toes of a sleeping nymph. She laughs and sits up hitting her heard on a platform. A can of beans rolls off and falls into a glass. The platform sinks and releases a machete that swings cutting the rope of a catapult that sends a nymph in a helmet flying over with a parachute and a blowhorn

Nymph: Move em out cows go go go!

(They are frightened and start galloping off. They are tied to a net containing a gigantic load of bananas. They split up and the bananas are hoisted onto the back of the big rig. Another nymph closes the pull down and locks the back. True ends with a glass of milk. Aaahhh. Serge and Stake look at each other and high five.)

Episode 4

(Serge has fallen asleep in the cockpit of the vehicle. He begins to dream. Drream sequence begins) Basel is on a fixed gear. He stops to do a trackstand. Does tailspin hopping over handlebars and lands in a trackstand. He begins to ride. He is dressed in full messenger attire.

Basel: Hey Serge, I hear you're gonna be in Yarx, hit me up dude! I've got a document here for you that I''ve delivered to Merril's, it's an old stationary store that we used to rack from. It's a right of passage that you will need to get you to the Amulet of the Sacred Heart. I'll explain more later. Toodles, I gotta get tatted after my next run.

Serge awakens and True has arrived at a small shack where he is selling off the load of bananas to a business owner. He climbs to the top of the truck and opens the back letting the bananas slide all over the ground.

True: Enjoy! (He says with a smile. He hops back in the truck.) Hey thanks again for coming with. I have one small errand to run.

Stake: Which isss?

True: To find my wife.

The Legend Of ETF (Truck drives into the distance)

Stake: Mind if we come with?

True: Not at all. I could use the company actually, she stays with a graffiti crew whose name is ETF, they have a mission for my wife to do before we get married...at least I say she's my wife.

(We find ETF inside of a dingy old apartment with high ceilings. The room is reminiscent of an old drug den, cluttered yet fancy, and covered in tags. There are five people, one standing. We hear the door ring.)

True: BUZZUP! Hey can I come up?

Spake: Yea that's chill, come on up! (Hand on buzzer)

(Oner turns to leave) Yo I gotta leave theres peopl--

Spake: It's chill.

This is Big Lug, he is the leader of the team. Big Lug is using a 3d computer that surrounds the room. He is using scarlet sage which provides him with a brain chemical that allows him to control his virtual realm in cyber space.

Serge, Stake, and True enter the room.

Big Lug: True! Buddy, long time no see! How long has it been?

True: About three months

Big Lug: Naw man, it's been a year! Don't worry, we've been waiting for you (Sniff's fingers) Here smell that? (Puts fingers in front of True's nose, he refuses.) It's your wife's butthole, don't worry we've been keeping her safe, well, I have.

True: You make me want to vomit.

Big Lug: I'm just messing with you man. You know it's all love. Now come here.

(True receives bearhug from Big Lug) True: Can't breathe.

(From corner of the room) Guy with teddy bear aka Spake: I've been so lonely.

Big Lug: I'll give you a squeeze.

Spake: I'd rather vomit.

Guernica: I hear this little voice.

Toubolde: You sure you're alright? I mean maybe you should take your meds. (To Big Lug). Man he's depressive. Shyaa! We all hear voices!

True: So what's the plan? I sold the bananas and made a mint! I could live off this for the rest of my life.

Big Lug: So the plan is to do a hangover. I mean hang off. Sorry the scarlet sage tends to have its effect.

True: Doesn't the fall cause us to, um, die?

Big Lug: I've created a program that allows the user to create three dimensional holograms that transpose upon any outdoor surface in the natural realm. Of course it will be seen in public, but nevertheless nothing illegal. And yet illegal (stares off into space).

(In a bubble)

Big lug: There are two ways into the application. The old fashioned way, which I use, might hurt your head. The other way is to use a VR helmet. To each his own.

(A Safari van is flanked by two vespas. They are going Straight to L.A. To the heavens...)

Rivera, Toubolde, Big Lug, Spake, True, Stake, and Sergio are crouched on a grassy embankment on the side of the freeway in L.A..

(Cats purr).

Deb: Hey guys I'm here! Can I help? I brought cans.

True: Thank the lord! (gives her a big hug)

Sergio: Well, I thought about it, I could climb up that pipe, cut the razor wire. shimmy over to the far left above oncoming traffic while the wind billows me around. Or I could just point and click (Snap! Snaps his fingers. And a funky hologram that reads “Sergio” appears on the back of the freeway sign. I'll watch, you write. Maybe take flicks (hands in shape of camera).

As a team they climb like gorillas up the freeway sign's column.

Rivera: We're about to f*ck this sh*t up

Toubolde: Be the cockiest you can be on this sign.

Big lug: Be careful.

True: I feel vomit coming up.

Deb: This is a humdinger.

(They are all on the freeway sign facing camera as the platform begins to wobble. Focus on Deb and True *his outfit looks like Tie's she's his twin)

Deb: Here, my love, man up, spray safe. Soon I'll be your bride.

(They all do pieces, they go big. They shimmy back down and the reader has a look at their pieces, they appear holographic, slightly blurry. They all climb a ladder over the freeway wall to a tree, working their way down the limbs to a small drop. As soon as they land they see police lights flash and hear a Bloooop!)

Police: (Over loudspeaker) Hold it right there!

Rivera: Vamanos!

(The team jets to the Safari van losing the police temporarily. They all pile in. The van squeals off as do the vespas. The team dumps their bags from the moving vehicle. They turn a corner and cop lights flash. Five police vehicles are now on the team's tail. The engines rev and the police start to overtake the vehicle, a dark shadow followed by a low hum. )

True: What's that noise?

There is an aircraft floating above the speeding cars.

Aircraft: Calling all cars, calling all cars, stand down immediately from the high speed chase. Do you read, this is the chief of police, Bob Barx of the Yarx police department, I've got a team with me, we'll take it from here.

(Sirens go silent and police cars slow to a stop)

Deb: Shiiiiiiit!

Big Lug: Looks like we got a fun run. (Big grin, steps on gas)

They hear a rumbling and the vehicle starts to shake. The car illuminates. We see a beam of light coming from over head from the ship. It seems the aircraft is actually a U.F.O. The beam abducts the safari and the vespas. The team is now inside the ship.

Loudspeaker: Hey, are you guys alright? Come into the cockpit, we would love to meet you.

Spake: Okayyy?!

Everyone makes their way into the cockpit where there are two extraterrestrials sitting smoking scarlet sage. They turn from the window which looks at the stars.

Alien: (Inhales, holds breath) Hi. (Exhales deeply). I'm Hans, this is Alfredo.

Alfredo: Ciao. (Sips espresso with pinky out)

Hans: Welcome to the brotherhood (says with smile) we saw what you did back there, takes gusto, how exactly, how, did that come into fruition?

Deb: Well see, I'm due to be married to Truesy here, so for a final bow, we decided to do this Heaven in L.A. Holographic style!

True: That was a rush, I see what you guys live for. Kiss me sweetie. (Puckers up)

Deb: Ah, ah, ah, not in front of the gang!

Hans: We are graff writers too.

Spake: Oh yea, (chuckle) what do you two write?

Hans: I write Hans.

Alfredo: And I write Alfredo.

Spake: Uh. Cool.

Rivera: Not to be an earwig, but what's the plan?

Hans: Oh we'll come out of orbit in a sec. One full revolution which will take about 3.5 seconds and we'll land back in Yarx.

Big Lug: Just in time for you two to be married. (Smiles as he chews eclaire).

(UFO lands back in Yarx in someones backyard. Family is confused. Cut to True and his wife Deb in the back of the banana truck making love below a banner that reads “just married.”)

Episode 5

(Sergio and Stake are eating ramen in Yarx, at a corner bar. The Lion is outside. They have their own glasses of a potent steaming potion.

Sergio: (Sips) Have to get that right of passage

Stake: Got that right. (Sip)

Sergio: Check! (Put one hand up)

(Cut to Sergio walking with lion. Stake is a bat. As they walk strangers thought bubbles direct them)

Stranger 1: (Face covered in 9's) The right you seek.

Stranger 2: Is in a cup..

Stranger 3: At the bottom of a well.

Sergio: (Pulls out map of Yarx) Let's have a look see. (They are a blip on the map). There's a well here near the sewage containment facility...or there's one here in the castle yard of this castle. (Looks at map, reads Gronkagel). I detect castle guard (Points to blip on map.) It's a balrog. I figure it's the one with the balrog.

(Scenes of travel, the life is colorful, homeless, street hustlers, restaurants, basic city scene. The scene changes to the country side, life slows down. Eventually they reach a tall hill on which the castle Gronkagel lies. They begin their hike. They reach a wall with a tall door).

Sergio: Hey Balrog! Balrooooog! Hm. No sign of him. I guess we play the breaking and entering game.

(Sergio points to the top of the wall and Stake flies up and over. First a rumble then a creak. Doors open and Stake stands. Sergio enters. As soon as he enters three palace guards come to greet him.)

Castle guards: (In unison) Welcome to castle Gronkagel, where the Gronk! (Bonks Stake and then Sergio with a spear) Comes first. You have been knighted!

Stake: Ssss! (rubs head) you're god awful but I accept.

Sergio: Yea, me too. Say, what is there to do here in Castle Tintag- I mean Gronkagel?

Castle guards: (In unison) We have a well, and a tower that oversees the land.

Sergio: Take us to the we--

Stake: (Overlapping Sergio) to the tower!

Sergio: I mean to the tower. That would be very nice.

Castle guards: (In unison) Very well. (They turn and start to leave the castle.)

(All five start to climb the tower stairs).

Castle guards: As you can see--

Stake: So anyways (Throws castle guard off ledge)

Sergio: (Knocks castle down with lightning bolt).

Castle guards: Would you look at that? Better go check on the Bal-

Sergio: Have another taste of lightning!

(Serge knocks them into a pile with bolt of lightning).

Stake: Oh suck my cock! What about the Balrog?

(Balrog gets up from pile of rubble)

Balrog: So much for my nap. Feel like I hit me head.

Sergio: (From tower) Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! (Shoots three to Balrogs chest)

Balrog: Ow, oh bullocks! Let me guess you came for the write of passage? Well if you want it that much come 'ere then. I'll lower you into the well.

Stake: Oh yea right! (In a yell)

(Serge and Stake approach pile of rubble)

Balrog: (Takes flight) I mean come 'ere!

Sergio: Oh I see by here, he means come to us (under his breath). Attack!

Stake: (Pulls out dagger )

Sergio: You're never gonna get anywhere with that! (Pulls out dagger. Jumps at his neck and Slam! The balrog slams him into the tower floor.

Stake: (Jumps onto the balrogs neck and with his cape makes him blind.) Please hold.

Balrog: (Takes flight).

Stake: Let's go for a ride! (Balrog throws him off)

Sergio: Long jumps onto his neck attempting to strangle balrog with a whip.

Balrog: (Falls into a swamp in the forest. Balrog is out cold.)

Sergio: So much for balrog. (Pulls out map. Blip turns gold)

(Sergio and Stake walk through the rubble).

Sergio: Go down

Stake: Kay

(Stake turns into a bat and flies into the well. He nosedives into the water, sees a sewer rat, and winks. Finds chest because of it's glow, and brings it up over the well wall. Sergio makes finger into a key and slides into lock. He opens chest and inside finds a cup. Inside is the writ of passage. It glows.)

Basel: You've got the writ! Cheers to you! (Takes a sip of beer.) Now for a pint of Eastvleteran. The best beer in the world. My fellow monks and I brew this stuff. It is highly rated and always sells out, gets better with age, we know from experience. A word of advice for whenever the fear hits, no one rules the world so until then fight for your breath. By the way, what does it say? Points to the writ and takes note. Smiles.(Scene ends).

Stake: Hey can we go to Dragonvild, my wife is there, I thought she might like to meet up for an exchange...there be dragoooons.

Sergio: Down for whatever, as long as it's on the way. I'll ask Basel the next time I sleep. (Hops on Leo Stake is a bat, they take off in a dynamic closeup from the side.)

Episode 6

(At camp at night. Sergio is about to pass out, Stake is awake. Sergio is resting on Leo. Stake looks at a small heart locket. The picture is of his wife, she winks and smooches. He smiles adoringly. She then picks up a small rat, and drains it's blood with her fangs. Stake does the same thing. The rat squirms and then goes limp. Sergio looks at him with his eyebrow raised. Stake tosses the rat aside and pours himself a glass of wine, then pours Sergio one. Stakes wife drinks wine in the picture frame. Some drizzles down her cheek.

Sergio: Ooh, thiz wine izz ztrong. (Passes out).

(Basel appears in a spiral in Sergio's dream. He has a baby pet dragon. He is feeding him an omelet).

Basel: Hello my boy! It seems you are on your way to Dragonvild, where you will enjoy food, drink, and many a dragon like this little tired tyke. (Feeds him omelet). The whole town is dedicated to dragon preservation, hence the ancient architecture *reminiscent of gaudi* and abundance of gold. Keep in mind Stake is a sex slave to his wife so they will be in bed almost the whole time. So build capital while you are there. I suggest you join the dragon racing league, with your experience riding dragons as a child you should be a shoo-in. So shoo!

(Leo stirs, awakening Sergio. As usual, the fire is out, Stake is asleep amongst a pile of dead rats. Sergio opens a can of beans and puts some steak and eggs on the griddle).

(The scent drifts into Stake's nostrils Snif! Followed by Sss! He's awake.)

Stake: Can I have some?

Sergio: Nah, can't. (Serves him up a dish)

Stake: If you say I can.

(A small gnome comes and sits by the fire.)

Small gnome: Mah!

(Stake serves up some eggs on a plate to the gnome and licks his teeth with a smile. Travel scene through the forest. As usual Stake is a bat. They approach the town on a hillside. The scene overlooks the town. When they arrive at the gates, they are greeted by butterflies. Serge approaches a dragon rental. Stake goes to find his wife. There are several dragons in disrepair in a pen and one handsome stud.)

Sergio: Hey there, how much for this handsome stud?

Clerk: Actually that one is a girl.

(Leo purrs).

Clerk: She'll cost you approximately 15 quid a day plus tax. You're already insured with the umbrella insurance, but you won't need it. That one there knows what she's doing. (Points and winks). We'll include a manual on how to feed her, a leash, and a saddle. She's very friendly. She eats mostly fruit that is native to the land. Any experience handling or riding dragons?

Sergio: Yes when I was very young until I was a teen.

Clerk: Then this will come naturally to you. She regularly races in the minor dragon racing league but this is her off season. So don't you dare race her or it'll be your head.

Sergio: (Smiles). I wouldn't dream of it. (Puts fifteen coin down on the table. One of them spins).

(Stake is walking along a cobblestone street. He is alone. He arrives at his wife's residence. It is a tall Gaudi-esque villa. The placard near the door reads “Chateau d'omnivore.” He rings the doorbell, which sounds like a screech. The door opens and a woman's arm reaches out and pulls him in. He has one dozen roses behind his back. The door shuts. His wife stands before him, one arm up and one arm down in a long dress).

Stakes wife (Vive): Here I am!

Stake: I haven't seen you in a long time. I got these for you. (Hand is out with bouquet).

Vive: (Takes bouquet smiles with greedy eyes then throws them behind her. She goes in to kiss his neck and puts a hand on his crotch.

Stake: (Looks calm and bashful as she kisses his neck) Oh how I've missed you.

Vive: (Takes his hand) Come to the bedroom, I've got a lot to show you.

(Back to Sergio)

(Sergio stands in front of a banner that reads “Dragon Racing Major League Tryouts Today.”)

Clerk of the course: Alright, you've made the cut. What's your dragon's name?

Sergio: T

Clerk of the course: Well then we'll see you and T next day of the Sun. Be prepared because the Marauders from the middle east are coming to town.

(Back to Stake)

(Stake and Vive are making love in a bed that looks like it belongs in a castle. She orgasms.)

Vive: “Ooooohhhhh!” (We see her “O” face) I'm cuming, hard!

Stake: Me too, my love.

(She leans in to kiss his mouth).

Vive: I've missed your sperm.

(Stake and Vive cuddle in each other's arms).

Vive: I've got new stationary. It's cool I'll write you a note.

Stake: I'd like to read it sometime. Perhaps I need to check on Sergio and his dragon quest.

Vive: I'll strangle you if you do.

(Stake smiles). Mmhmm, sure you will.

Vive: Or maybe I'll write Pavel a note. You know, just to apologize.

Stake: Mmhmm, sure you do.

Vive: So how did you like our rape?

Stake: Well, I sure did have fun raping the girl from the ville--

Vive: Maybe I'll rape the bard, he plays guitar. In fact I already did. He has a humongous-- (bites her lip)

Stake: Eh, no. That was just his fantasy. Let it all be a dream.

Vive: I'd rape you.

Stake: No, we'd make love.

Vive: Like we just did. I need a snack.

Stake: I'll fix you one. Fruit, with a cup of.

Vive: Dragon blood.

Stake: K. Be back in 5.

(Cut to Sergio. He is in a field with a dragon. In the distance a stranger who is female plays fetch with her dragon using a large bone).

(Leo rubs against Sergio and runs to catch a field mouse).

Sergio: Ok, T, to win this race we're gonna need a little cooperation. (Tries to mount her. She roars and spits a ball of flame). Okay really, I cannot.

The dragon from across the way runs into their camp and catches a bone knocking into Touloula. They flit).

Girl from dragon camp: Hey over there! I apologize for my dragon. Having trouble with yours? Here's what you do. Take the tip of your finger and prick it then place a drop of your blood in the dragon's eye. See what happens! (She winks and takes bone from dragon).

(Sergio frowns. Takes out knife from sheath and pricks finger. He calmly takes Touloula's bridle and squeezes a drop of blood into her eye. Her pupil dialates all black then it squeezes back to a slender half crescent.

T: Mango.

Sergio: You want a mango?

T: Yess pleasse. I will be your mizztrezz.

Sergio: Hey now, slow down. I'll go find you some fruit. How bout an apple?

T: I'd prefer a Mango. (Burps a flame). It helps me concentrate.

(Leo comes over with a mango in her mouth, and drops the mango at his feet. Then goes to play with field mouse.

Girl From dragoncamp: Here boy! (Tosses bone).

Sergio: Okay, let's see what you can do. T, go get it! (Throws mango into the air, and without a moments notice T leaps into flight and chomps at the mango. T lands on ground softly. Whump! Girl from dragon camp claps). Good job, T!

(Back to Vive's bedroom).

Freshening up in mirror in bathrobe.

Vive: Oooh my fangs are so sharp. Ladadee, ladada. (Spritzes perfume on neck). We see a bat at the window sill. Then two. (Vive sees in the mirror over her shoulder, then drops perfume. The perfume breaks. Smash)!

(More bats fly to the balcony rail. There are now ten).

Vive: (In shock). Gasp!

Two bats turn into vampires on the balcony

Vive: Pavel!

Pavel: Steal your gold...WIFE! (Smashes door with cane).

Stake: (Bursts through the door. He is nude. He drops the tray and wine).

Vive: (Grabs dagger from the dresser).

Stake: (Runs in front of Vive). (To her): Stay back! (Equips cane and draws a fiery blade). Stay away from me!

Pavel: Hisss!

(The bats on the window sill leave in a flurry.) Scurry!

Stake: (To Vive): Go to the other room! I'll handle them.

Vive: We'll fight them...(Dagger turns into a torch) Together.

Pavel: Come, now my dear, don't do anything too hasty.

Vive: Die! (She jumps through the air dagger in hand).

Pavel: (Sidesteps. Crack! He uses the handle of his blade to hit the base of her neck).

Vive: (Winces and cries in pain).

Stake: Vive! (He lunges and catches Pavel on the arm with his blade). Yaaah!

Pavel: (Holding arm). Kisssss your wife...GOODBYE! (Throws high kick which Stake guards).

Stake: Knees Pavel in the groin.

Vampire 2: (Grabs Vive and holds her unconscious body underneath her arms. He has a knife to her neck). Stay back! I'll kill her if you move.

Stake: You wouldn't.

Vampire 2: I will too! Try me! (Presses blade to her neck).

Pavel: Stake, she's not your wife. She's a vampire now, not an elf. You would be too if you started acting like one. We'll hold on to this one until you get your act together. This is for the time oh I dunno, you cut off my head? Oh, and do bring me the amulet, it is also oursss! Meet us at Chateau d'Ormsby by 5, the day you were wed.

(Vampire 2 backs up onto the balcony with Vive. Eight vampire bats lift Vive by the arms and carry her from the balcony. They all leave in a flurry).

Vampires: She's our familyyyy! What a rapist! They captured it in crystal!

Stake: Noooooooooooooooooooooo. (Looks down

#grimes #Tristan Chase Arcelona

1 note · View note