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wardenparker · 1 year

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Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 9

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.

Rating: Mature - but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Family being family, brief mention of previous physical abuse/ptsd, playful and sexy flirting Summary: Your family arrives in Louisville and inevitable shenanigans ensue. Notes: Hardcore shout out to my godparents and their kids (my surrogate siblings that I love and adore) for being the inspiration for Sugar’s family. One day I’ll write about the time my godmother and I got day drunk and went traipsing through historical houses for shits and giggles.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

The morning is busy, despite the laziness of waking up in each other’s arms again, and includes a pit stop at Ginger’s lab to have temporary versions of your Curiouser and Curiouser tattoo applied for your family’s benefit and check in with the Statesman doctor. Standard procedure, apparently, for soulmates who have had their ink removed to accommodate their agent spouses. Your family will see the proof that you are soulmates, and Jack can wash away the evidence to go back to work after they leave. In jeans and t-shirts, you and Jack amble down to the Statesman airstrip with the Bronco and your little car to bring everyone back to his house for a few days. His three guest rooms edge out your one, so you had brought over a bag of clothes and personal items this morning to stash in his room. His place seemed enormous after leaving your little cabin, but it’s cozy in a very western cowboy kind of way. When the jet lands, the Silver Pony is right behind it. Jack’s beloved fighter will go back to the hangar, but your focus is entirely on the jet as your family disembarks. The last time you saw most of them was your cousin’s wedding, and that was months ago, so you’re itching to jump forward on the tarmac and hug your sister.

Jack stays back, not because he’s wary of meeting your family, but this is your reunion. You’re aware you can tell them things up to a certain point and he knows that you don’t want your family to know the true extent of your ordeal, but family is going to smother you. It’s their way. “Go on, sugar.” He urges you, grinning when they all shout in unison when they see you.

These are hugging people, every single one of them, and it takes better than ten minutes for the fussing and first round of hugs to die down, but you end up with your niece in your arms and grateful tears in your eyes by the end of it. Your mother, for all her lifetime of journalism, is at least keeping the questions to a minimum for now. Mostly just repetitions of “But you’re okay now?” whenever you remind her that you can’t talk about an ongoing investigation - the ‘easy out’ line that Jack had taught you.

It’s only when your personal hoard finally migrated towards the cars does Jack step forward. “Hey folks, I’m Jack.” He’s going to leave it up to you to introduce him if you want, and he’s not sure if you’ve said anything about him before.

“Ohhh, you’re Jack.” Your little sister smirks, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Kind of expected Tex to be here with you, honey. Not going to lie.” Your father, meddlesome king that he is, is occupied with caring for your nephew otherwise you’d probably smack his shoulder much harder than strictly necessary.

“No, Dad.” You focus on loading their suitcases into your trunk so you don’t murder him with your glare. “Actually, I’m really excited for all of you to meet Jack, but you have to promise not to freak out.” Your eyes glide to your right. “Mom? Promise.”

“I would never act inappropriately with your friends, sweetie,” she promises, fully ignoring the many times she has done so before today.

“Liar, but okay.” An affectionate roll of your eyes is well earned, but you stop loading bags for a second to do introductions properly. “Jack, this is my brother Matt, my sister Eliza, her husband Ed, their kids are Nate and Eleanor. And my parents, Jeff and Sherry.” Taking a deep breath, you can’t help the broad, nearly giddy smile that spreads across your face. “Guys…Jack is my soulmate.”

He can’t say that he was expecting the red carpet, but it’s almost funny when your dad’s eyes narrow instantly. “He’s older than you.” Are the first words out of the man’s mouth and honestly, he doesn’t blame him.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” You roll your eyes out of frustration that that is the first reaction from your family on something so important. “Yes, Jack is older than me. And you’re older than Mom. It happens all the time.” Granted their difference is a year not a decade, but it really doesn’t matter to you.

“Sorry.” Your dad shakes his head and shuffles forward, holding out his hand to Jack. “I was expecting her to announce that Tex was her soulmate and they had just kept it under wraps at the wedding to not steal the spotlight.” That stings, especially because he was supposed to go to that wedding, but he shakes the man’s hand firmly. “Sorry about that. But I assure you that your daughter is in good hands.”

“Actually, Tex only came with me as a stand-in. He’s a good friend.” You can see Jack flinch slightly and you don’t like it, feeling the way your heart clenches at any sign of discomfort from him. “Jack got caught up with work.” That clench becomes a swell, and your chest puffs up a little with pride. You can’t tell them what Jack really does for work, but his other title is just as impressive. “He’s the CEO of Statesman, so he stays busy.”

That seems to resonate with the family, making Jack the recipient of several reappraising looks. “So that’s why we get flown down on the corporate jet?” Your mom asks and Jack shakes his head.

“No ma’am. That’ll be Champ's decision. I might be CEO, but I answer to him.” He jokes before he takes your hand. “At Statesman, we take the welfare of our soulmates and their families very seriously. We like to think of ourselves as our own little family and that now includes you folks.”

“You’ll see how seriously they take the ‘family’ thing when you see where we all live,” you tell them honestly, shifting your niece carefully in the arm that wasn’t loading suitcases. “We have all the stuff for grilled cheeses and the carrot soup that the kids love back at Jack’s house.”

“Jack’s house?” Your mother cocks her head at your wording. “You aren’t living together already?” She knows how you feel about soulmates so it is surprising to her.

“No, but he has more guest rooms and he offered. This way we can all stay in one place together and no one has a hotel bill.”

“Purely practical. Got it.” Teases your sister, who is the only one who has heard the entire saga of back-and-forth with Jack.

“If you all want to get loaded up.” Jack offers. “We’ll get you back to the house and the makeshift family reunion can start in a jiffy.”

Getting everyone back to the house takes a little finagling but it works, and your brother rides with your parents and Jack in the Bronco to make sure they behave. The kids are fussy when you get to the house but your sister sets them up to nap with the monitor on once everyone’s bags are upstairs and - as is the custom with your family - everyone congregates in the kitchen without discussion. In fact, the biggest discussion right now is what to do with the kids while everyone is here. Touristy things like Churchill Downs and the Kentucky Derby Museum, the Louisville Zoo, and the amusement park Kentucky Kingdom are all on the list, according to your mother. “We’ll drive out to Dollywood sometime without the kids,” she tells you, glancing at your father with a grin. He’s a legendary Dolly Parton fan but the little ones would never survive the drive without totally melting down.

“If that’s something you want to do….” Jack hums. “We can always drop the kids into the Statesman day care. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. Or I can stay back and watch them.”

“You guys can always add a few days to your vacation,” you offer, already bustling around the kitchen to get everyone something to drink before you start making lunch. “The jet is already reserved to take everybody else home on Saturday morning, instead of going home you can hop a commercial flight to Tennessee and check out Dollywood. If dad likes it, we’ll make it the next family vacation?”

Jack listens to the conversation, trying to get a feel for your family and he doesn’t miss the way that they are looking at him, judging him. It’s been a long time since he’s had to worry about what people think of him.

The rolls you all fill get to be obvious after a while - your excitable mother and nosy father, generally troublemaking sister and her easy-going husband, punctuated by your brother who likes to poke and make trouble sometimes or play the peacemaker at others, depending on when the mood strikes him. At the moment he is being good, just watching your brand-new soulmate to see how he deals with your parents. Right now it's a roundabout while your father pretends he isn't dying to go to Dollywood under literally any circumstances and everyone else provides him with various ways to make it happen, until he finally grins at all of you and takes a sip of his sweet tea. "Your mom and I will go for a few days this weekend," he agrees, looking around at the group of his three kids with two of their soulmates and feeling a little like the king of the castle. "I'm sure we'll love it, and we can all go back again together." He raises an eyebrow at you. "You're still gonna be able to get away for family vacation this year, right kiddo?"

"As long as you don't schedule it for the week my restaurant opens, of course I will." It's not something they would ever do, but you can't help getting excited about the opening with it being so close.

Jack leans against the counter. “It’s gonna be a big affair and we’ll have the jet standing by again to bring everyone down.” He tells them, wanting them to know that it’s going to be taken care of. “You’re doing it that Saturday or Sunday, sugar?” He asks, looking back at you.

"It's Saturday." There's no reason to hide that you love the little pet name, and you practically beam at him. "Sunday will be special because it's the first day we're doing brunch." The Sunday brunch menu was Diana's brain child originally, when you made eggs benedict for the two of you one day in the kitchen. "Just three more weeks." Your brother hovers a little, still feeling guilty for losing track of you when you came to visit him, as if the Rollins brothers wouldn't have just grabbed him, too.

Jack nods. “Some of the best damn food to be had will be available at the Statesman tea room.” He sends you a small wink. “And the sweetest desserts.”

"We heard you fell for the coconut cake just like her granddad did." Your mother grins. "There's no way around it. That cake is the best thing in the world."

“The coconut cake is to die for.” Jack nods in complete agreement, already anticipating when you make that confection again. “But her crawfish salad was what threw in the towel for me.”

“I don’t think you’ve made that for us, sweetie.” Your father eyes you with a pout as you move around the kitchen.

“You don’t like shellfish,” you remind him with a laugh. “It’s the recipe I used to make shrimp salad tea sandwiches for Eliza’s bridal shower with a few little tweaks.”

“Best damn sandwich I’ve ever put in my mouth.” Jack boasts. “This tea room of hers is going to be a success.”

“I’m gonna have to put a padlock on the fridge to keep you from sneaking into the kitchen.” Teasing him has truly turned to being second nature, and it’s gone further than it had during that first tentative week of knowing each other. There’s so much affection there that it warms you through time after time, making you duck your head when you smile at him. “Put up a picture of you in back for my staff to warn them.”

“Wanted: Sandwich Thief.” Jack snorts, shooting you devilish grin, “considered armed and dangerous but can be bribed with a cupcake.”

"You'll fit right in, in this family." From the other side of the table, your brother-in-law laughs. "Food is their love language."

“Be honest, I think it just might be her cookin’.” He jokes, sending you a small wink. “Showed her a pizza place, she didn’t like it at all.” He chuckles, watching your face morph from shock to outrage.

"You wouldn't dare keep Tony's from me." Your jaw is practically on the ground, eyebrows pinched and a pout painting the rest of your features as you freeze in the middle of peeling a carrot. "Not after truffle pizza. I dreamed about that pizza."

His chuckle turns slightly mean, so sinister – though everyone can tell he’s joking. A sound similar to the evil antagonists in every spy movie they put out, and he’s watched them all for the irony. “Then my evil plan worked.”

"So mean, threatening to keep the good pizza away." There's no heat in the way you huff at him, and if you had looked over at the table in that moment you would have seen your brother and sister exchanging amused, knowing expressions.

“Keep it all for myself.” He adds, enjoying the pouty look you’re giving him. “Do you want me to help? Get out the bowls or something?” You’ve already inspected his kitchen and grumbled about needing to bring some of your stuff over if you’re cooking here, but he just assumed that was what every chef did.

"Can I trust you with the grilled cheese?" It's barely a real question, since the man has been feeding himself for decades, but you like the small moments of domesticity that you've been sharing this morning.

“I don’t burn ‘em, if that’s what you’re askin’.” Jack moves over towards you and his hand finds your waist as he moves to your other side. “How do you make your grilled cheese?” He has a feeling it’s a little more involved than two slices of bread, a slice of American cheese and some butter.

“No reason to get complicated today.” Everybody at the table is chatting away merrily about something that happened back home, and you take the second to lean into Jack’s touch a little. “When it’s me, I do apple and bacon and a Muenster cheese. But classic American is a great sandwich to do in bulk.” He’s warm and feels safe beside you, a feeling you’re learning to relish. “This isn’t too crazy for you, is it?” You whisper, worried that on day two of your precarious relationship, he might change his mind after remembering what dealing with another person’s family can be like.

“It’s….a lot.” Jack admits quietly, unused to the large family feeling that had descended on his house. But it’s not an unwelcome one. “But it’s okay, sugar. I grew up in boisterous bunkhouses on the ranch when I was old enough to be there. Which was as long as I could sit on a horse.”

“If it gets to be too much just say the word and I’ll ferry them out to whatever tourist spot they want to see. Or I’ll bring them back to my place. Whatever you need, okay? This is…it’s new.” You sigh gently, leaning into him a little more. “I don’t want to scare you off before we even get started.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Jack uses your willingness to lean against him to curl around you. “I’m tired of runnin’ from you, sugar. I’m too damn old to be actin’ like a young buck anymore. You’re my soulmate.”

“Can’t say I’m ever gonna get tired of hearing you say it.” You hum softly, turning your head to press your lips to his cheek.

The warmth that spreads through his whole body at the simple gesture would have made him run for the hills a week ago. Now he just makes a small sound of appreciation and squeezes your hip again before he slides over to start making sandwiches for everyone.

“So this is new.” When Jack moves to one side, your brother appears between you with an unreadable expression that only hints at curiosity. “When she showed up at my place Friday night she was definitely not glowing like this.” In fact, you had been miserable and in tears, so the change has him about ready to offer to be Jack’s best man someday.

“That’s my fault.” Jack isn’t going to shy away from his mistakes, not when they have affected you so deeply. He owns who he is to the marrow of his bones. “I couldn’t get my head out of my ass long enough to realize I was scared.”

“I know she’s a pain in the ass,” Matt smirks at you and you glower in response. “But she’s not that bad once you get used to her.”

Jack chuckles when you turn around and throw a piece of carrot at your brother and stick your tongue out at him. “Mature.” He teases as he lays out the bread for the other half of the lunch.

“Middle child.” Matt tells Jack, as though that explains every ounce of your behavior. “Anyway…whatever this is…she looks happy. And she’s got her sense of humor back. So keep doing what you’re doing.”

It says something that just acknowledging the fact that you are soulmates makes you happy. Jack nods, and levels a genuine look at your brother. “Your sister's health and happiness are my top priorities.” He promises seriously.

"Glad to hear it." He may give you both shit, but Matt takes his role as older brother to two younger sisters very seriously. If your little sister hadn't met her soulmate-now-husband in high school, there would have been a lot more intimidating of boyfriends. "Like I said, she's a pain in the ass. But she's our pain in the ass."

Jack chuckles quietly, noticing how you look like you want to die, melt into the hardwoods to never be seen again. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He nods towards your brother and the unspoken agreement is arranged. The one that speaks to if Jack hurts you - again - he will sit and take the ass whooping he deserves.

"Jack, honey." Your mother looks over as your brother moves away and smiles. "Will you tell us a little about yourself?" It's an innocent effort to get the ball rolling, but she's trying to do it gently. Any little tidbits to get to know her daughter's soulmate better.

Nodding, Jack decides that it’s best that he puts his hands to use while he answers that loaded question. “Well, ma’am, I was born and raised on a ranch. Decided it wasn’t the life I wanted anymore when I – lost my first soulmate. I went into the military and then when I was done with that, I joined Statesman.”

"Military?" That makes your mother tilt her head in interest. "What branch? My father was a Navy man."

“Air Force.” Jack gives a small shrug. “I have a love of planes, but didn’t get to fly ‘em when I was in because of not being an officer.”

“It’s never too late to get your pilot’s license,” your sister volunteers, her cheery optimism on display as always. If you and Jack are finally giving things a try - which it seems you are - then she wants him to be happy, too.

"I fly now." Jack assures her, giving a peacock proud grin. "That plane that was being pulled into the hangar after you landed is mine. Brought back from New York."

“You were in New York?” Your mother asks, clearly asking why without saying it.

“Jack came to bring me home.” You turn around at the counter, one hand pausing in stirring the soup on the stove. “He’s been taking care of me since everything happened.”

"And he flew a…fighter plane there…" The obvious questions are there, bubbling under her tone as if there is a piece to the puzzle that your mother can't see but wants to find out. It makes Jack grateful for the fake tattoos that are on your bodies in case someone wants to see.

"Quickest way to get there." Jack says breezily, like it was standard operating procedure to fly it. "I'm sure you understand the need to get to your soulmate when something happens."

“You almost got arrested for reckless driving the day Dad broke his leg,” you remind your mother with a raised eyebrow. “And he was already at the hospital. I’m just glad Jack had a way to get to me that wasn’t an eleven hour car ride.”

Your mom nods her head in agreement, but he can see that she knows that there is more to the story than what you’re telling. “I don’t know if I woulda survived an eleven hour trip.” He tells her.

“Hell, I might not have.” The mumble under your breath is only loud enough for Jack, but you offer your family an apologetic expression. “We can’t talk about it,” you remind them. “But I promise you, Jack is taking care of me until I’m allowed to go back to work.”

“It’s not going to affect your opening?” Your dad asks. “I don’t know what happened, but if they aren’t letting you go back to work– that’s just a precaution right?”

“Purely precaution. Champ wants me fully rested and in the best possible shape for the opening, so we’re being overly careful.” Deciding you can leave the soup for a few minutes, you go over to the table to pour a glass of tea for yourself and squeeze your dad’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m okay, and my team is amazing. The opening is going to be perfect.”

Jack finishes assembling all the sandwiches, sticking to a mixture of cheeses and smearing some of the garlic butter that he had made from your cabin on the outside of the bread. The griddle in the middle of the stove is already waiting, but he waits for you to tell him when to put them on to toast so they can be ready when the soup is.

It’s when Jack is passing by your father at the table with a stack of plates in his arms that your father hrrmphs, and you turn around at the stove to frown. “What?” You ask, knowing that sound all too well.

“He has it.” Your father huffs, pointing at Jack’s arm.

“Yeah, Dad. We’re soulmates. I told you that.”

“Sure,” your father crosses his arms. “But he also said he had a first soulmate, and second soulmates only exist in fairy tales.”

"I thought so too." Jack admits easily. "It's– that's one of the reasons why I was–" Jack stops and turns to look towards you. "I denied it. I didn't want it because I didn't think it was possible. But it is, and we are soulmates - whether or not I wanted it or thought it was possible."

“How do you feel about it now?” Your mother asks, obviously actually asking how he feels about you, and eyeing you seriously when you try to stop her from finishing her sentence.

“I would die for your daughter.” Jack tells your mother honestly. “Her health, her happiness, are the most important things in the world to me.”

“I think we can stop the interrogations on that note, don’t you?” The question may be for your mother, but it’s Jack that you put your arms around and murmur “I love you” in his ear. It’s enough that he’s not fighting it anymore. Enough that he’s willing to face the fear inherent in loving deeply for a second time. You don’t want this entire visit to be an interview.

“It’s okay.” Jack assures you, just as quietly. He had expected this type of interrogation, especially because of his actions and you fleeing to New York in the face of your last argument.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” You whisper back, leaving a brushed kiss on his cheek before stepping away to grab the stick blender and purée the soup. “Everybody having grilled cheese?” The bright question for the group is meant to change the subject and distract. Everyone, especially you.

Your brother-in-law snickers, obviously onto your meaning and he nods. “I want one of course, but I’m gonna go check on the kids.” He stands up and sends Jack a nod of encouragement. “Be right back.”

Thankfully the air clears while you and Jack finish cooking lunch, and by the time everything is on the table the kids are up from their nap and wanting to talk about the horsies that Mommy and Daddy promised they could go see – meaning you will absolutely be taking a trip to Churchill Downs tomorrow come hell or high water.

“Don’t understand how you can make carrot soup taste good.” Jack groans as he spoons up another bite and rolls his eyes at the taste.

“She’s magic.” Your sister points her spoon at you in between mouthfuls. “I swear I gained so much weight while she was in culinary school. Everything she makes is amazing.”

Jack sends you a proud wink, nodding. “I can just imagine.” He tears off a bite of his sandwich to dunk it into the soup to meld the flavors together.

Normally ready to dive face first into a bowl of your carrot soup, your nephew is completely demolishing his half of the grilled cheese that your sister put in front of him, practically cackling about how much he likes it. “It tastes like garlic bread!” He gasps excitedly, as though the rest of you aren’t eating the very same thing.

Jack chuckles and nods. “I always like garlic bread best, how about you, buddy?” He asks your nephew with interest.

"Daddy says I can't ever be a vampire." The little boy declares, chest puffed up proudly as he rips off another bite of his sandwich.

That is definitely the comment made to a person that loves garlic. “That’s good.” Jack raises his brows seriously. “I’ve heard that being a vampire is no fun. No beach days.”

This seems to make the little boy pause, and think about the consequences of vampirism incredibly seriously. "That's good," he says, imitating Jack's tone the way only a child can. "I like the beach. Being a vampire does not sound fun."

All of the adults laugh and nod in agreement as the sounds of eating give way to amusement. Jack winks at the younger man. "You'd rather be a cowboy." He tells the boy seriously. "We eat garlic bread all the time."

"Cowboys ride horses." At nearly four years old, Nate's love of horses is already so well established that it has rubbed off on his baby sister - who squeals and giggles and babbles with delight whenever there is anything on the tv at home that features the large animals. "Horses are super cool."

"Horses are cool." Jack shoots a glance at your sister and brother-in-law. "There are horses here." He offers, the southern edge of the property behind the distillery is lined up with the neighbor's horse farm. The horses love to come hang out by the fence line and scarf down scraps the visitors bring them. "I'm sure that if you are really good and listen to your parents, they might let you visit the horses, feed them some apples?"

Nate's little eyes go round as saucers, immediately turning to his parents with desperate pleading painted across every inch of his face. "I'll be the best boy!" He promises, clasping his hands over his heart in the most dramatic fashion possible. "I promise, I promise!"

Jack knows that he might have put your sister and her husband on the spot, but it could also be something that the kids enjoy. The tours end around five but the horses are going to be waiting around because a lot of the staff also enjoy feeding them. The neighbor didn't mind. Hell, his feed costs dropped after people started feeding the horses.

"There are horses on the property?" Your sister asks, looking to Jack with curiosity. "Like as a gimmick or something?"

“Nah.” Jack shakes his head. “At the property line. Neighboring property is a horse farm.” He explains. “The horses love to come to the fence line and beg the tourists for the fruit.”

"And the owner is okay with that?" She glances back at her son and over at your parents, collecting reactions when Jack nods.

"Why don't we take a distillery tour this afternoon?" You suggest, thinking this might be the perfect middle ground for a family afternoon activity. "We can enjoy some samples in the saloon after and then go bring the horses some snacks?"

"That sounds good to me." Jack agrees. "I can make sure you get the extra special tour." He chuckles. "More samples and no other tour groups with us."

"Perks of knowing the CEO." Your father chuckles, raising his tea in salute. "Sounds like a plan, kids."

This is going to work. The nerves that had bounced around in his belly start to settle and Jack leans back, smirking at you as you murmur to your sister quietly. Obviously talking about things that only sisters do - or when a group of friends get together. He doesn't mind this at all.

Under the table, your hand finds Jack's thigh and squeezes gently, the quiet signal of support and happiness speaking loud and clear in the moment. You're going to make this trip a good one.

******

It’s a few hours before the tour happens. The younger kids are easily entertained at the pond in the small park nearby after the adults get everything unpacked in their guest rooms, and ultimately the large group is ready to explore the sprawling Statesman campus. Jack smirks as they start all talking at once as you field questions.

“Okay, you guys have to chill.” You’re laughing despite the admonishment, poking your sister in the arm playfully and waggling another finger at your curious father. “I asked Diana to do this tour for you herself and she’s the best, but she’s also my very closest friend down here, so you have to be nice.”

“Smart business.” Your mother teases, winking at you. “Always make friends with the boss’s wife.”

“It wasn’t sneaky or anything, she’s just really cool.” If anything, you get special treatment for being Jack’s soulmate - like your entire restaurant, for example.

“Then I think I will like this woman.” She decides, wanting to learn about your life here. Especially because your soulmate is now here. She hasn’t missed the way that Jack hovers over you and she approves of it.

“Who are we likin’, sweet darlin?” Diana has the uncanny ability to seemingly appear out of nowhere, but this time it’s completely reasonable as she strolls out the front doors of Statesman’s main offices with Champ in tow to throw her arms around you. She’d been to see you while you were healing in Ginger’s lab and Jack has filled her in on the details of the mission that he could manage to speak about.

“You, love!” You return her embrace eagerly, glad to see smiles on the faces of people you love again. “Thank you so much for doing this, Di.”

“No problem at all!” She waves away your thanks and tuts. “Your family is our family.” She promises before she turns towards the group and puts on her friendliest smile to introduce herself to your family.

“You may regret that,” your father jokes, knowing that all of his children like to bust him about being a handful.

"When you deal with the egos I do, anyone is easy to handle." Diana jokes, throwing a wink back at her husband as she ushers him forward. "This is my husband, Champ." She introduces him. "Technically Jack and your daughter's boss."

“Technically both, but only one of ‘em listens.” Champ chuckles, shaking your father’s hand and accepting a hug from your mother. “Jack’s stubborner than a mule in March muck.”

"Now Champ, I wouldn't be your best employee if I just marched to your tune and you know it." Jack shoots back, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and grinning at the older man.

Narrowing in on the way Jack says employee instead of agent, Champ shakes his head and chuckles before looking back at your siblings. "Don't ever hire your best friend, y'all. They'll drive you up a mountain, and worst of all they'll be so good for business that you can't fire 'em."

Everyone chuckles and Jack slides his arm around you. It's been a few hours and he wants to make sure you aren't too tired. He knows that even though Ginger's technically healed you better than new, he still sees you broken and unconscious when he closes his eyes. "You doin' okay, sugar?" He murmurs in your ear.

"I'm okay." You're a little tired, but all things considered it's a miracle that you feel as good as you do. Grateful just to be on your feet, you lean into Jack's side and smile encouragingly.

"Good." He hums softly. "If you feel tired, you slip away and I will make sure that your family is all tipsy by the time we walk back into the house."

"If I'm tired I'll find some coffee." You promise him quietly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm not leaving you alone with this group."

He appreciates that you aren't ready to throw him to the wolves, but as the two of you walk behind them, he lets you lean against him as you stroll. Enjoying the way that you are trusting him.

Diana knows every brick and every blade of grass on this campus, and she’ll tell their stories without reservation. You stay snuggled into Jack’s side as Diana regales your family with stories as the whole group of you slowly make your way through the maze of buildings.

"I bet they are all eager to see your restaurant and the tasting rooms." Jack jokes as he leans into you.

“They’re eager to eat and drink,” you joke back, wishing you felt normal enough to be in that kitchen working with your staff. “Not that I can blame them. A cup of coffee sounds heavenly right now.”

"I don't know how you could be tired." He chuckles quietly. "You managed to sleep most of the day and all night long."

“If you’re gonna tease me about it, I won’t cuddle you tonight.” Wrinkling your nose and forehead at him as determinedly as possible just makes you look silly, but it’s not exactly a serious threat in the first place. Waking up with Jack has been amazing, and you’d hate to give up that privilege.

“Hmmmmm, that sounds like a threat.” Jack hums, smirking at you. “Does that mean I need to tie you to the bed?” The words come out playfully before he realizes you might not appreciate that considering you had been tied to a damn chair and tortured. His face falls and he tightens his hold on you. “Shit– I’m sorry, sugar.”

“It’s okay.” You turn into him completely, hanging on to him tightly as your family follows Diana down the path and you and Jack hang back together for a moment. “It’s okay…you meant…you were teasing. And I love that you tease. But maybe…” It makes you shiver a little, the memories like flashes of a movie in your mind. “Maybe no bondage stuff. For at least a little while.”

“Doesn’t have to ever be a thing if you don’t want, sugar.” He promises you. “I know that it can be tough to get over it. I just didn’t think.” He rubs his hand up and down your back soothingly.

“I used to like it.” But now the specter of what happened hangs over something that used to be pleasurable, and you wonder how many other things might have been accidentally ruined by the Rollins brothers. “I honestly don’t know about it now, though. We’ll have to wait and see, I guess.”

“Therapy.” Jack murmurs quietly, pressing his lips to your forehead. And he knows that if it’s something you never want to do again, he would be okay with that. Your comfort was more important than a kink.

“We should see when the doctor is available.” You tilt your head back to silently ask for a kiss, appreciating the comfort of having him close. He hasn’t left your side except to be in the next room since he brought you back to Kentucky and you’re so grateful.

It’s an easy press of his lips to yours. Keeping it gentle and soft. Still, he keeps his arms around you and breathes you in. “Anytime you want sugar.” He promises. “You want to wait until they have gone home?”

“You still planning on holding out on me like a responsible adult who wants to have open channels of communication before we’re intimate?” The eyebrow you raise at him, even while you’re murmuring quietly, is fully teasing. He’s right to want to make sure you’re talking through things before you start sleeping together. Even if you are already sleeping together in the literal sense.

“Believe me, sugar.” Jack groans quietly, kissing your ear. “I’d rather have had your tight little walls around me instead of my fist in the shower this morning.”

“As-soon-as-possible.” Mumbled together like one long word, your forehead drops to Jack’s shoulder to avoid groaning out loud. “We’re starting therapy as soon as possible.”

He chuckles, the only response he can have in a situation like this. “Of course, sugar. Whenever you want.”

“Oh god.” Your sister’s voice breaks the spell, jostling you and Jack out of your cozy moment. “You’re really in the gross lovey-dovey beginnings stages still, aren’t you?” Like you and Jack teasing each other, she doesn’t mean a word. She’s grinning the whole time and practically giggling behind her dramatic pout. “Come on, Diana says it’s time for tasting and you know nothing is going to keep Dad and Matt away from all that whiskey for long.”

Jack snorts and taps your lip when you start pouting. “We can kiss later, sugar. Right now, let’s go get drunk with your family.”

“Gross.” Eliza snorts, pinching your arm before turning back to trot up the block to promptly kiss her husband and take the baby back from him. The picture of domestic bliss teasing you about having feelings is laughable and both of you know it. “Fiiiiine,” you sigh dramatically to Jack and take his hand instead. “But I’m gonna hold you to that. Save that kiss for later.”

“I have a lot of kisses stored up.” Jack waggles his brows. “Depends on where you want them.”

“Everywhere.” Fingers threading together, you tighten your hand in his. “Absolutely everywhere. Please and thank you.”

“Think my tongue would be a good replacement for my fingers?” He teases. “With your parents in the house?” He gives you a shocked look but his smirk is smug.

“I will make literally anything you want for breakfast tomorrow.” Whatever he wants, because you know that what you want is him.

Jack chuckles and arches a brow at you playfully. “Anything?”

“Anything.” At first you were just playfully bargaining, but now you’re intrigued.

Jack senses that you see it as a challenge and he grins. “Okay, how about aebleskiver?” He asks.

Starting to walk along the path, you raise one very impressed eyebrow at Jack and hum in thought. “Do you have an aebleskiver pan somewhere in that mansion of a house?”

“Maybe?” That Jack doesn’t know but he’s collected a lot of shit from missions over the years.

“If you do, then you’re on.” Loving the fact that he’s willing to be playful, you press a kiss to his cheek and follow your family inside the building at the end of the walkway to the distillery’s tasting rooms.

The taste testing is a supreme success. With Champ there, the normal bottles that are available are quickly shoved aside for some of the more precious liquors Statesman offers. “Show off.” Jack huffs under his breath as Champ produces a bottle of ‘61 double barreled blend.

“Just wantin’ to make sure these fine folks have a good time.” Champ leans back against the bar to survey the room as you and your family enjoy the tasting. He isn’t blind to the fact that you’ve barely had a sip from your early glasses so that you could take the baby from your sister, or that your nephew’s apparent love for popcorn is currently being satiated by his own wife and one of the bartenders who provides snacks in this particular room. Diana is taking delight in sharing a basket of the salty snack with her new little friend. “She seems to be doin’ okay,” he murmurs, not nodding to you because he knows Jack hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

“Stronger than half our agents.” Jack muses, not for the first time. “Damnest thing I’ve ever seen, Champ.”

“Think I should get her to swap jobs?” Champ chuckles softly, not meaning a word of it. He had read the complete report that Jack typed up while sitting beside your pod, as well as Rye’s report and Ginger’s updates on your health. Admittedly he was pretty impressed, but he would never expect Jack to be okay with making you even a junior agent.

“Only if you want to put me in an early grave.” Jack huffs, fully aware of how hypocritical it sounds but he couldn’t take you putting yourself in danger. Hell, he doesn’t want you near a mandoline if there’s the possibility of you getting hurt, though you would fight him on that. “I just hope it’s not a front and she cracks.” Jack admits.

“You’ll keep an eye on her.” He knows Jack well enough to know that he won’t rest for a second if he thinks you might not actually be okay. “Since y’all are getting along so much better now.”

Jack cuts his eyes over to Champ. “Plannin’ on sayin’ ‘told you so’?” He huffs, fully aware of the smirk hidden under Champ’s bushy mustache.

“Do I need to?” He will, of course, at some point when it’s amusing to all present. Today he’s just glad to see you up and laughing with that smile you beam at Jack every now and then.

"No." He rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath even as he shuffles slightly. He knows now that Champ had been right but damned if he just wants to concede right now.

“I’ll save it for my best man's speech at the wedding.” Champ chuckles, looping his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans.

Jack blows out another huff, wanting to comment that maybe you wouldn’t want to get married but Champ knows that isn’t true. You are the type to want a marriage and whatever else comes with a soulmate.

“Cat got your tongue, Jack?” The chuckle turns to a puckish giggle and Champ claps his best friend on the shoulder. “I’m just happy for ya, is all. You know that.”

“I know.” Above all else, he knows that Champ is in his corner.

“You gonna come back to work soon?” Now that you’re safe and mark-free, Jack is technically free to do that. Champ just wonders if his friend is up to letting you out of his sight.

“At least not until after her grand opening.” Jack frowns as he watches you laugh with your brother and sister, taking another sip of the whiskey you are tasting and debating the different notes they are tasting with them. “You know how it is when you are out in the field. I don’t want to put that on her with her opening so soon.”

“God forbid you get wrapped up in something and miss it.” Champ nods solemnly, knowing it would devastate you if that happened. He’s had enough conversations with his wife to understand how much you care about Jack. He clears his throat though, quietly, wondering how Jack will react to a bit of news. “That kid Kingsman sent us - Yvain? He’s headin’ back to London. Adjustment just didn’t happen, so they’re sendin’ somebody new over.”

Jack frowns, brows knitting together. “They sending the kid back?” He asks, wondering how you would take it now if Tex shows back up. His jaw still aches sometimes but damned if he would ever let him know it. It had been well deserved.

"Yep." The older man doesn't shift, just watches Jack carefully as they talk, with the casual air of someone discussing a shopping list. "With the new Kingsman agent. We're gonna send Bobby over. He's chompin' at the bit to flex his muscles and he's done well overseas." While he isn't thrilled to be sending his only child to a different continent for work, Champ knows that Bobby's future means more than his own comfort does. His boy is bright and clever and deserves the chance to grow.

Jack’s frown deepens slightly, born of his own mistakes and insecurities, but that can’t be helped. The only one who is to blame for Tex having intimate knowledge of you is him. It’s not at all arrogant to believe that if Jack hadn’t played fast and loose with your emotions that you wouldn’t have given the boy a second look. “They’re sendin’ two back?” That surprises him, knowing they are light in manpower. “But Bobby’ll do fine. He’s a good agent. Real good.”

"We're sendin' Yvain and Bobby back, they're sendin' Tex and this gal Isolde." The code names of the Kingsman agents give his lazy Southern tongue a little trouble, but he likes the girl well enough. "Had a call with her this morning. I think she'll fit right in."

“Haven’t seen many that will fit in.” Jack grumbles, still slightly peeved by Galahad shooting him in the fuckin’ head.

"Think you might be glad of this one," Champ shuffles slightly to face Jack. "Seein' as she's the kid's soulmate and all."

A riot of emotions rides over his face as he absorbs the news that Tequila has found his soulmate. Relief being the primary one, hoping that with that discovery, his little crush on Jack's soulmate would settle down. "How did they find that out?" He asks, trying to seem like he is completely casual and not having a mini celebration inside.

"Photos." There's a twist on Champ's lips as he sees Jack's shoulders tense then deliberately relax like he's forcing himself not to have a reaction. "That scar left from his broken arm, back during the rodeo days? He saw it in some old photos of her." Obviously when Tequila had reached agent status the mark had been eliminated from his skin and therefore from hers, as well. In the years since, the boy had nearly forgotten it ever existed. "Accordin' to Eggsy, they're a hell of a team."

“Well that could mean anything.” Jack grumbles. Wondering what this soulmate of his looks like and if he’s good for the kid. Despite his own issues with Tequila honing in on you, he still cared about him.

"We'll find out this weekend." Chuckling over the fact that Jack's protective instincts never waver, Champ shrugs his shoulders and claps him on the shoulder again. "Bobby's goin' away party is Saturday. He'd hate for his Uncle Jack to miss it. Ya hear?"

“Of course.” Jack nods immediately, smirking slightly. “Kid will be disappointed we didn’t get a chance to work together.”

"No way of knowin' what will happen in the future." Better men than them have tried to control it and failed, so Champ is even going to try for a prediction. "For now, though, this is a good choice for him. Let him learn from somebody besides his old man and his uncle. Get a new perspective."

“It’ll be a good thing for the kid.” He chuckles. “Let him get laid without a report goin’ to his old man about it.”

"God help me," Champ huffs, wiping one hand down his face. "I'm hopin' he takes after his mama in that and not you or me."

Jack grins, knowing the boy the is already a lady’s man, even if Champ hasn’t realized it yet. “Hope you don’t take it too hard when you realize he was raised by all of us.”

"Just hopin' he has his mother's brains about it all." Knowing damn well that Bobby Rogers is the same sort of man that he and Jack are, Champ ends up chuckling. "You and I? We talk a big game but we fall head over heels. That woman of mine has such a clear head that I swear she's never even heard of fog."

“She’s smarter than all of us put together, Champ.” Jack jokes. “That ain’t exactly fair.”

"And look at who her best friend is." He's seen other friends come and go from his wife's life over the years. People she could and couldn't be absolutely honest with, people she could or couldn't relate to easily. The only other friend she's ever made so quickly and completely was Ginger. Watching you and Diana laugh and chat together with your family is such a soothing balm over his soul. Champ would give anything to make his wife happy. It was worth it to bring you here for that alone. "She said it's like finally gettin' the little sister she always wanted."

“Oh god.” Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “That means they are going to gang up on you and in turn that means you gang up on me.”

"Already have." The older man laughs again, shaking his head fondly. While Jack was off being a miserable lump over the last few weeks, Champ had been seeing more and more of you around the house as you and Diana grew closer. "I'm lettin' them hire an event planner to start doin' parties and weddings. Technically it's all part of Diana's domain, but your gal will be doin' the catering out of her restaurant."

Jack muses over the idea for several minutes, remembering how you had talked about just that idea right from the beginning. "Hopefully she doesn't overextend herself and by extension - Diana." He does think you would be fantastic at it though.

"I told 'em they had to hire somebody to do the actual planning." Champ nods, having had the same worry. "Di can work magic on anything, but doin' all the tours and weddings would be too much even for my Wonder Woman. And I know your gal wanted to do these from the beginning, but she was the first one to mention hiring a planner. So it'll work out." He chuckles though, glancing at Jack. "Only question is if it's gonna be you or Tequila that gets married first."

"Shit Champ." Jack huffs, propping his hands on his hips as he contemplates that idea. "Do you know how long it's been since my first weddin'?" He asks, remembering the small, ranch wedding he had with Abigail. He had been so goddamn happy and eager to put a ring on her finger. Still a wet behind the ears virgin who wanted nothing but his soulmate. This time - and he's already admitting there will be a 'this time' - he has no idea how he will feel. He's older, more experienced and still completely out of his depths.

"Yes I do." He knows exactly how long, but he also knows that Jack needed that distance. "And when y'all do decide to make a go of it, we'll all be glad to celebrate with you."

"We are takin' things slow." Jack admits quietly. "I want to go to therapy with her. Because of what happened to her and because of my own shit I dumped on her."

If Champ is surprised, he doesn't let himself show it. He nods, rocking a little on his heels, and leans back against the bar counter behind them. "I'll make sure Doc makes space for you," he promises, lowering his voice a little more to match Jack.

"Thanks." Jack keeps his eyes on you, alert for any signs of fatigue or discomfort. Maybe a little overzealous but it has been less than 36 hours since he had held your limp body in the back of that SUV. "I appreciate that. I know I'm fucked up, have been for a long time but I don't want to hurt her anymore."

"Jack Daniels is a changed man." He can't resist teasing just a little. After all, they are friends. "From emotionless ladies man to considerate and caring partner. Can't say I ain't impressed."

"I've always been considerate." Jack puffs up, offended by that comment. "Considerate enough to let women run while the gettin' was good."

"I said 'considerate and caring partner'," Champ reminds him. "Been a long time since you had a woman who you thought of as an equal, that's all I'm saying. Never meant to imply you had no manners."

"What if I'm not good at it?" Jack's eyes tear away from you for a moment, meeting Champ's watery blue eyes before he looks away in embarrassment again. "Bein' a partner? What if I'm too goddamn bad at it and make her more miserable than she was before?"

"You're not gonna be perfect every single day." He says quietly, shifting so he's imperceptibly closer to his friend and refocusing his attention fully on Jack. "If you try to be perfect you're gonna end up a ticking time bomb of stress and urgency. Do the best you can. Support her. Be there for her. Let yourself love her in the best way you can, and when you fuck something up you make sure you goddamn apologize. And when you don't know what to do? You talk to her. Talk to the doc with her. Can't fix a problem if you don't admit somethin' is broken."

Jack has to admit that Champ gives damn good advice. He knows that even as happy as him and Diana have been over the years, there have been nights where Champ was banished to his couch in his office or Diana wasn’t talkin’ to him. So it’s obviously advice he’s used himself over the years. “I never want her to look that broken ever again.” He doesn’t mean just physically. That was horrible, but nothing could match the horror at seeing the utter defeat in your eyes. The light extinguished, the joy vanquished and luckily it had returned. He never wants to be the cause of it fading again.

"Then you're gonna have to learn to talk without just runnin' your mouth." It makes Champ chuckle a little, and he shrugs one shoulder as he looks back to you with your family - sitting now, watching the baby yawn in the double stroller. "And if you get it figured out, you let me know? I still can't quite get the hang of it, but I'm tryin'."

Jack chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out and slapping his friend’s shoulder. “Be sure to file an after action report as soon as I have mission success.”

Champ's reply is stifled when you turn your head, smiling back at Jack and stifling your own yawn. The man beside him seems to respond instantly and Champ is of no mind to keep him from you. Especially not today.

Jack doesn’t even excuse himself, just pushes off the bar and starts walking over towards you. “I need to get you back.” He murmurs before he looks over at Diana. “Our wonderful tour guide will take you folks out to see the horses, but I’m going to take this one back to the house.”

"Of course." Your mother reacts before anyone else can, watching Jack with you for a moment before looking back to Diana. "Maybe you could recommend someplace for a big group to go for dinner in Louisville? It would be nice to see some of the city while we're here."

"Of course!" Diana cuts in so you don't protest. No one is going to let you cook or play host tonight. Not if you're not up to it. "I'd be glad to give you some recommendations. Let's take the kids to the property line and we can chat?" She puts one hand softly on your shoulder and smiles. "You get some rest, honey."

The caretaking instincts have kicked in, in everyone around you, and you know that you don't have a prayer of winning when they're all dead set on looking after you. "Okay." You nod after a moment. "But I'm just a little tired, that's all. I'm fine."

Jack smiles triumphantly at Diana and your mom before he winds his arm around you. "Come on, sugar. We'll go have us a nap so you can spend some more time with your folks when they get back." He suggests, fingers stroking your skin right at your hip, easing under your shirt automatically so he can feel your warmth.

He gives you enough time to exchange a few hugs before bundling you out the door, and you tuck your hand in his back pocket as you head back toward the neighborhood. "You don't have to lay down with me, Jack, it's okay," you murmur, allowing yourself the chance to lay your head on his shoulder. "Unless my folks have exhausted you. Which I would totally understand."

Jack snorts, aware that he could continue to do whatever for hours but the opportunity to hold you isn’t one he’s willing to give up. “I’m not going to let you nap without me.” He pouts at you playfully.

"Afraid I'll leave your sheets smelling like me?" You tease, raising your head to smirk at him. As slow as you've agreed to move, there doesn't seem to be any shortage of attraction between you. Thank goodness for that.

He chuckles and holds you just a little tighter. “More like I don’t want you to be lonely in that big bed all by yourself.”

"Mmm." If you tried to claim that you wouldn't be, it would be an awful lie. "We shouldn't sleep too long, though. If they're going to go out to eat, we should think about dinner, too."

The chuckle that escapes his lips is filthy but he nods. “Baby, I’ll be perfectly happy making a sandwich for you.”

"You're not gonna let me lift a finger, are you?" Sure you smirk at the suggestiveness in his laugh, but you just pat his ass with the hand that is tucked into his back pocket.

“Are you going to complain?” He asks, lifting his brow at you. “You don’t want me spoiling you right now and taking care of you?”

"I'm not complaining at all." You shake your head, searching his face to make sure he's just teasing and not upset at all. You had seen him talking to Champ but couldn't hear what they were talking about. "I just...I don't want you to feel like you have to take care of me. I can always curl up on the couch or grab myself something to eat if you have other things to do."

“I have nowhere else that is more important than being right here.” The worry that you’re feeling smothered hits him and he looks back at you seriously. “Unless you need some time to yourself? You need me get lost for awhile, sugar?”

"No." As if to prove it, you squeeze him tighter to your side. "I just didn't know if Champ was talking to you about work or something." Looking up at him, it's easy to tell that you're both worried in different ways. "I want to spend time with you, Jack. But if you have work to do, I don't want to keep you from me. I'm a big girl with plenty of patience."

"I'm not plannin' on going back out into the field until after your big openin'." Jack admits with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I want to make sure we have time for a few good sessions with the doc before anything."

“Really?” Despite how well you’ve been doing this last day and a half or so, you really did expect Jack to run for the field as soon as he was able. It’s been his whole life - why would you ever think he would do otherwise? “Well,” you offer him a shy smile. “I can’t say I’m upset about that.”

"Listen, sugar." Jack stops in the middle of the gravel path that leads towards the employee housing and takes a hold of your shoulders gently. "I know that I've acted like a horse's ass, but I–" he sighs and tries again. "I want to be here for things that are important to you, and I want to make sure that you are good before I step back into the field." He rubs your shoulders gently. "I love you, sugar."

“I love you, too.” Since the shock of hearing him say it for the very first time yesterday, this time it warms you through and seeps into your bones with comfort as you put your arms around him. “And I’m grateful that you want to be home with me while we’re working up to the opening. Just like I’m grateful that you’re spending time with my family and having us at your place.” He watches you intently, you’ve found, and you keep your arms around him. “I guess I just want to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well as you’re taking care of me.”

"I'm getting used to...to caring about someone like this again." Jack admits quietly. "It’s different than caring about the people I work with or friends. But I don't mind it."

“There’s no rush.” No matter what, you’re always going to want to give him the respect and support he deserves, which means letting him come to this at his own pace. “If you want to coexist and spend all that free time together? Baby, I’m in. But I’m not going to be offended if you’re the kind of person who needs alone time to recharge.” Placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, you smile softly and lean into his arms. “We’re still learning about each other, but I love what I’m learning.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to disappear.” The words slip out of his mouth unbidden, and he wishes he could take them back. It’s a fear, a real one. That if he takes his eyes off you for a second you will be in danger or worse again.

Frowning, you pull back again and search his face. “What do you mean?”

“I–” Jack reaches up and runs his hand over your hair and down your back. “She asked me to go to the store that day.” He admits quietly. “When she realized she forgot the candles. But I was fuckin’ with the grill. We were havin’ the boys come up from the bunk house for a barbecue and cake and beer.” He shakes his head, reminding himself that he wasn’t to blame. If it hadn’t been that day, Rollins would have found another day to ruin his life. “I let her out of my sight and she died. I pushed you away and let you out of my sight and Rollins got his claws into you. Tried to take you from me too.” He leans forward and presses his head against yours again. “Only thing I can think of right now is that as long as I have you near me, you’re safe.”

“Oh honey…” Instantly tightening your arms around him, you press a reassuring kiss to Jack’s lips and hold onto him for a long moment. “I’m sorry. You keep your eagle eye on me for as long as you need to feel better, okay? I’m not going anywhere with you for at least the next few days. And if next week you want to come and make yourself useful at the restaurant while we get ready to open, you’re more than welcome. Just—” Your hand gently cups his cheek and brushes over the stubble on his jaw. “You saved me, Jack. You did. And Rollins is gone forever. You did that for me and for her.”

“Tiny little pieces.” Jack reminds himself quietly. “He’ll never hurt you again, sugar.”

“Why don’t you take me home so we can have that nap?” It makes sense why he doesn’t even let you sleep without him curled around you, knowing now that he’s working through fears of his own. You would never criticize him for not. Not in a million years. “We can make some sandwiches for dinner when we wake up, and see what everybody is feeling up to when my family gets back tonight?”

“I can light a fire in the outdoor fireplace.” Because his house is larger, his back yard is larger too. He had let Diana create a relaxing atmosphere out there with Adirondack chairs and stringed lights around the stone fireplace.

“Sounds perfect.” You start to walk again, arms around each other with your pace at a stroll. “Fair warning, though. My mom’s already figured out what part of your yard would make the perfect place for me to plant a garden.”

Jack laughs and the tension he hadn’t realized he had been holding in his shoulders about why he is hovering. Or the tension about how you would react to it. “Raised beds or no?”

You nod, laughing with him as you turn the corner into your neighborhood. “Raised beds for some of it, to create contrast. I swear, that woman is where I get my planning genes from. I bet if you asked her tonight she’ll have the whole thing mapped in her head.”

“Well, when you want to get planting, you let me know.” Jack muses. He doesn’t use the back yard for much and if you wanted to grow things, it would be yours to use.

“I’m not gonna take over your yard, honey.” If you lived together it would be one thing. It would at least be a conversation to have. But it’s very nice of him to be so open and welcoming. “I’m just saying it would be a chat that would make my mom happy.”

He snorts. “I hardly ever go back there.” He tells you. “If you wanted to put a pool in there, I wouldn’t care. Though I might use it then.”

As you turn the corner off the main street to head toward his house, you shrug slightly. Is not a big deal, and it shouldn’t matter. But here you are being shy about it. “It’s still your house,” you remind him. “If it were like months or even years from now and we were living together, that would be different. But this is your personal space.”

“Maybe it won’t be my personal space soon.” Jack muses. “Your little cabin is smaller than mine and we do have two agents coming in.” He says it casually, like it’s not a big deal. “It wouldn’t be much different from the last two days.”

“Did you j—” Stopping dead in the middle of the sidewalk in front of his large house, you’re practically gaping at him for how casually he just tossed out the option like he was saying you should have BLTs for dinner while your heart pounds a mile a minute. “You want us to live together?”

Jack stops and turns back towards you, slightly uneasy. “You don’t have to. I know it’s a step. A big one. But don’t feel like I’m pushing.”

“No, I do!” You blurt out, flustering at how quickly you jump on the invitation once you realize it’s sincere. It feels like your chest could burst from the happy way your heart swells and you reach forward to grab his hand again. “You’re not pushing. You’re offering. I’m just…” You exhale softly, looking embarrassed. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you want me — that you love me — the same way I love you.”

“I understand.” Jack does, and he’s grateful that you are as compassionate as you are. Otherwise he would have been out on his ass. “I spent plenty of time loudly telling you that I didn’t. I don’t expect you to – I guess understand – right away.”

“How about we make this something that we talk to the doc about?” You step closer to him to put your arm through his and start to lead him up the walk to his own front door. “In the meantime, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wanted to accept without thinking.” It’s silly to admit, but having him be so open and eager is like a balm for your soul. “So what would you think about having an extended slumber party for a while? Even after my parents are gone. Like a trial run?”

“I was planning on that anyway.” Jack admits with a grin. “The only way you are sleeping alone is if you lock the door or when I go back to the field.” He doesn’t mention that he has dreamed about how you looked on that floor several times.

“Hmmm.” The shrewd hum through your lips is just a cover so you don’t giggle in delight, and you walk up to the front door with him arm in arm. “You’re gonna have to have my thumb print added to your front door scanner.”

“Done, sugar.” Jack grins. “You did say you wanted to cook in my kitchen.”

“Got any other surprises for me while we’re at it?” He pushes inside and you follow him, letting that buoying feeling of joy float through you.

Jack bites his lip and considers not mentioning it, but he doesn’t think that would go over well. “What Champ and I were talking about…Tex is coming back. Apparently his banishment is over.”

"Oh?" It smacks your system with a hit of anxiety, knowing that the whole situation was over you and how poorly all three of you handled it. "Soon...or? Have you talked to him since he left?" Just because he hadn't reached out to you – or answered any of your texts – doesn't mean he hasn't spoken to anyone else.

“He’ll be here this weekend.” Jack tells you. “I haven’t talked to him, but I don’t know if he’s forgiven me yet. He–” Jack wipes his hands on his jeans. “He apparently found his soulmate over there. She’s an agent too. She’s coming back with ‘im.”

“Well…that’s great, isn’t it?” The door shuts behind you and you keep moving automatically, up toward the master bedroom. Though you don’t really feel like napping anymore. “Hopefully that should…it should make things easier for all of us. To be able to put what happened behind us.”

“I don’t– I’m not jealous of what happened.” Jack grunts at his own lie. “I mean, I am, but it’s because of myself. I don’t judge you for being with the boy. I practically set that up, bein’ a dumbass.”

“If you judged me for a relationship I had when I was single, we would be having a whole other conversation.” At the top of the stairs he turns left and you stick to his side without hesitation. “But like I said, that’s in the past. And whoever his soulmate is, I hope he’s head over heels and exceedingly happy.” You flash him a smile that clearly says: like I am.

“I know.” Jack grins back at you. “Just want you to know I’m not going to act like a bull during mating season. I won’t try to keep you from being friendly or anything.”

“That’s a very vivid image you paint there, babe.” You can’t help but laugh, and flop down on Jack’s enormous bed with a sigh. “Because I do want to be friends with him, and I know you two are close too. I don’t want to be the reason that that ended.”

“Nah, it’ll take more than a puny punch to the jaw for me to stop saving the fool’s ass in the field and keeping him out of trouble when we’re at home.” Jack jokes with a wink as he peels off his blazer and starts to unbutton his shirt. “You gonna get comfortable, sugar or are you gonna watch?”

“I’m not gonna deny that I like the view.” Despite raising one playful eyebrow at him, you shift on the bed to pull off your boots, socks, and jeans first.

“Mmmhm.” You yawn again and he chuckles. Your reaction to the chamber was being sleepy. It wasn’t a bad thing but it does take a few days to get back to normal, according to Ginger.

“It’s a good view.” Your bra joins the small pile of your clothes in the bedside table so you can sleep in your panties and t-shirt. “You gonna nap with me, handsome? Or just snuggle?”

“Probably just snuggle.” He admits, not that he has any problem with that. He could hold you and be perfectly rested.

“Okay.” The two of you climb under the blankets together and you sigh contentedly when he opens his arms for you to get comfortable in the circle of their security. “Snuggles are good.”

“Yes they are sugar.” Jack kisses the crown of your head and sighs, breathing you in and reminding himself that you are here. That he needs to relax and not believe that every time he looks away something bad is going to happen. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #soulmate au

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headfullofpresley · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝟏.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 5,9K

Summary: Elvis doesn't save lives; he takes them. But when it comes to you, he can't help but wanting to save you every time danger lurks around the corner. The reason for it might just change both your lives forever.

Warnings: vampire!Elvis, kind of modern!Elvis ig, strong language, mentions of blood consumption/murder- ya know, vampire shenanigans, Elvis faking his death in '77, reader is suicidal, reader not being completely... human. the cliff hanger kinda sucks, but we'll get there ;) ;)

A/N: soooo, this was supposed to be a simple one shot, requested by my lovely @breadsquash BUT naturally, i got carried away and have decided to turn it into a mini series! so there ya gooo- enjoy, babes. ♡

masterlist

August 16, 1977.

The day time stood still.

Well, except for Elvis and his inner circle that was. The Memphis Mafia had been running around all day- talking to reporters, keeping Elvis out of the public’s eye, all so they could succeed at their little plan in motion. For them, it was little, but for the thousands of mourning fans all over the world it was anything but.

Elvis felt guilty. When he decided to cut a record two decades ago just for the heck of it, he never expected it to throw him on a rollercoaster of stardom. As a vampire, it wasn’t the most convenient profession but he soon found himself getting addicted to the attention of girls that threw themselves at him at any given chance. At the beginning he considered them to be an easy snack- he never even dared to think that he was going to actually care about these people.

Now in 1977, he figured it was time to pack up and move away. Usually it was much easier, seeing the people he surrounded himself with who weren’t vampires would simply die of old age or a gnarly disease that tore down the human body. The goodbyes were never easy, but for obvious reasons, this one was the hardest.

It was unevitable, though. He wasn’t getting any older and even though he could stay put for a few more years, he was getting bored. He loved making music and he loved getting to know his fans, but he wanted something else. A new environment, new people, a new life.

His soul craved it.

“Are we staying for the funeral, EP?” Joe asked softly from the door opening of Elvis’ bedroom, looking at the frame of the older vampire standing in front of the window to peek at the chaos that had ensued outside.

Elvis knew it was all an act on their behalf, but the screams and cries from his fans outside of the gate once they got the news were real.

“You can, I’m not,”

Joe nodded, scratching the back of his head- he knew it’d probably be best if he and the rest of the Mafia stayed around for a little while, as to not raise any suspicion.

“Where to next?” the smaller male broke the silence that lingered in the room, stepping toward the window as well.

Elvis sighed softly, dropping the curtain from his grip to let it fall back in its place before he turned around and grabbed his coat that he put next to his suitcase, shrugging it on. “Japan,” he told his friend, a small smile on his face. “Good thing I survive on blood and not fish, though.”

Joe laughed softly, taking Elvis’ suitcase from the bed before slapping Elvis’ arm and walking out of the room, moving his former boss' luggage to the car that waited for the singer near the small part of woods behind Graceland.

Elvis released another sigh, a deeper one this time, as he looked around his bedroom for the last time. This place held so many memories- both good and bad, and he sure was going to miss this place. But that was all it was.. a place. A shell that portrayed a home. Having to move away every few decades, Elvis learned to not get too attached to material things- or at least, he tried to. Because vampires didn’t have steady homes, no matter how much they’d like to.

He stepped out of his room, holding onto the door knob. He saluted the Maria statue next to his bed, chuckling to himself before shaking his head at his own antics and closing the door behind him. This time, for the last time.

Japan was a dream. People who said New York didn’t sleep obviously never went to Tokyo- it was a vampire’s playground. With the city being so crowded, too crowded, it was easy for people to go missing. Everyone was so busy focusing on their own lives that nobody batted an eye, nobody looked out for each other in the big Metropolitan.

While Elvis’ name was known worldwide, nobody seemed to recognize him. With his immortality and hunger for blood came also the ability to shapeshift, so he looked nothing like he did back in ’77- a form he took on to make the public think he wasn’t doing well, which had been all part of his plan. Instead he opted for how he looked back in 1957-ish, an era of his Japan wasn’t too familiar with and if they did, nobody ever mentioned anything to him.

The excitement of Tokyo quickly wore off for him. The biggest reason for it was because he felt utterly lonesome. Vampires didn’t run in packs like werewolves did and as an outsider, it was extremely difficult to work your way into an existing clan. Plus, he wasn’t fluent in Japanese and there was only so much karate to do during the day and host clubs to waste time at during the night.

It didn’t take him long to get bored and once more, pack up and leave.

It wasn’t until 2023 that Elvis found his way back to America. After spending most of his time going from city to city and country to country, he figured no place was ever going to feel as close to home as his own country would. It’s been decades and with his fashion choices forced to change to blend in with the crowds, he had hoped nobody would recognize him anymore.

Naturally, he lived in another big city because it meant less people that would pay attention to him and more necks to tear into without anyone giving a damn. He wasn’t particurlarly fond of New York, but with the large vampire population living there and Joe living in the city as well, Elvis decided to stay and settle- for as long as time would allow him to.

With Joe owning a bar that made it possible for vampires and humans to mingle away from prying eyes, Elvis became a full blown bartender- something he had never pictured himself doing ever, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Joe had always been there for him when the spotlight was on him and this way, he could return the favor and the job also prevented him from rotting away out of boredom in the penthouse he compelled himself. He loved making small talk with customers and explaining the very sophisticated feeding system Joe came up with to the humans, but he needed more.

He needed someone by his side who he could share his thoughts and worries with. Someone who he could show his literal soul to, someone to take care of rather than the human girls that never left his home alive or the young vampire girls that were running around the city thinking they were above everyone else.

It was all so superficial, so fake- he needed something real. Joe managed to find it, why wasn’t the universe giving him the same?

The universe was working hard to push you and Elvis into each others’ direction, but it proved to be a near impossible task.

With him being an immortal being that had cheated his way through life and you being a young adult that was trying to survive by working a shitty job, you didn’t run in the same circles.

To be frank, you didn’t run in any circles. Aside from being courteous to your co-workers at coffee shop you worked at, you didn’t have any friends. You always told yourself you didn’t mind being alone, that you preferred it, but you couldn’t fool yourself any longer.

You were lonely and miserable.

You were at that damned coffee shop most hours of the day and when you weren’t, the shoe box sized apartment you rented wasn’t very exciting to come home to either. You had lost your parents a long time ago at the age of 13 and the more time dragged by, the more you simply did not want to be here anymore.

You didn’t have anyone to miss nor anyone to miss you, so your mind was set- sometimes there just wasn’t another way out and while death sounded scary to most people, it was a peaceful thought to you.

The cold air nipped at your cheeks harshly, your hands having lost its feeling a while ago as they were gripping onto the steel railing of the bridge. It was the end of February, so New York was absolutely freezing, but the weather hardly bothered you anymore.

You lost track of time so if anyone would ask you how long you had been standing on the side of the Brooklyn Bridge, staring down at the dark East River below you, you couldn’t give them an answer. The river that would swallow you whole and take you to a better place looked inviting, but also very.. very cold. Still, you had your mind made up- you weren’t going to change it. You were doing this… as soon as you managed to move a muscle and let go of the railing that was.

Because even though your brain was telling you this was the right decision, your heart was racing as snakes coiled in the pit of your stomach. You were nervous, you were scared… what if this wasn’t the right decision? What if there was more to life? You were only twenty three years old, you still had enough time to explore the world. Get out of this city and make something of your life, be someone- but how? You barely had enough money to pay your rent on time and have a decent meal every day.

You were so distracted by your inner turmoil that you didn’t hear footsteps coming closer. It was three in the morning and while New York was a lively city, people didn’t exactly hang out on the Brooklyn Bridge in the middle of the night, especially not in this weather.

As soon as a voice spoke up and broke your train of thoughts, you snapped your head to your right as your hands gripped onto the railing a little harder, making sure you were still standing steady.

“My, that’s a mighty long fall,” the dark haired guy that appeared next to you said with a nonchalant sigh, his arms leaning on the railing as he looked down at the river.

Your first thought was to ask him if he was some kind of nut job- while the rest of the city was clothed in thick puffer jackets to hide from the cold, he was only wearing a thin button up shirt and a brown jacket. The jacket as well as some of the buttons of his shirt were left open, collar popped up. Then your eyes traveled down to his pants and shoes- well fitted fabric and a pair of black Chelsea boots. It wasn’t like he looked completely out of place with his fashion choices, but it had been a while since you’d seen a guy his age who was dressed this well.

“Kinda cold for a swim, don’t ya think?”

The soft Southern accent that he spoke with didn’t go unmissed by your ears but you barely had time to think about where this stranger must be from when a gush of wind brought you back to reality.

Clearing your throat a little, you looked back at the water again. “I’m not going for a swim,”

Obviously.

Elvis was aware that wasn’t your intention- besides the fact that he wasn’t an idiot, he could also hear your heart racing and your subconscious crying out for help. You were in a vulnerable position, but as he tried to dig into your mind a little deeper, he found himself being blocked out. Strange- you weren’t letting him in. Not a lot of humans knew how to shut out a vampire, nor their abilities.

He didn’t think too much of it for now.

Elvis usually stayed as far away from situations like this as possible- humans were his main source of food. He was usually the one taking their lives, not saving it.

“It’s a hit or miss- you might die, you might not,” he shrugged, folding his hands together as he was still leaning his forearms on the railing, turning his head to look at you. “You’re lucky if the fall takes you out. Drowning is a.. terrible way to go, honey, believe me- you might think it’s a quick death, but nuh-uh. You’ll be down there and seconds feel like hours, not to mention that you can literally feel your throat closing up and filling with water, if you don’t swim up. Basic human reaction, you know? And then it’ll all be for nothing and all you’re left with is wet clothes and having to ride the subway home with a horrible stench around you,”

You turned your head to look back at him again while he was in the middle of talking but now that he was done, you couldn’t do anything but gawk at him. Yup, total nut job and not only because of his thin jacket.

“I know how it works, thanks,” you snapped at him, flashing him a sarcastic smile before looking back down and inhaling a sharp breath of air. “Weirdo,” you whispered to yourself, unaware that he could hear you perfectly fine. As well as the sound of your heart beating frantically against your ribcage, even more so than before.

You were trying to look distant, casual, as if his words didn’t bother you at all but the truth was that he had only made you doubt your decision more. Drowning sounded scary and painful as hell and you had no idea what would happen to you when you’d hit the water, until he told you just now.

He could feel you gradually growing more nervous- it practically radiated off of you in waves.

“What made you choose a bridge? There’s more peaceful ways to go,”

“If you’re trying to.. to.. s-save me or whatever, you’re doing a shit job,” you gritted through your teeth, hoping your voice came out steady and confident which to your own ears it did but to his, definitely not.

He let out a soft laugh- it sounded rich and deep, it was a pleasant sound. “I’m not- jus' making conversation. Curious what drove you to this point,”

Suddenly, you felt silly. You didn’t know if it was because the stranger next to you was acting so casually while you were nearly hanging off a bridge or because you were slowly starting to have second thoughts. Maybe your life wouldn’t turn out so bad after all if you’d just give it a chance and actually live it.

“Life just.. sucks, okay?” you told him, heaving a deep sigh out of frustration. As you looked at him and he looked at you, for whatever reason you couldn’t stop the word vomit from coming out. “I wish I could say my life was one big shit show but that would mean things would actually happen in it- my life is useless. I am useless. I’m alone in a city that I hate, wasting my days away at a job that definitely doesn’t pay me enough and I’m just done. I’m done with it all,”

You tore your gaze away from him, your fingers clenching around the railing firmer while tears stung in your ears. If he’d comment on it, you could always blame the wind.

“Everyone is lonely sometimes, honey- that’s life. You shouldn’t throw yours away. Why don’t you try finding a better job first?”

Apparently, he really wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t trying to save your ass. You felt yourself getting angry at his words- who the hell was this guy? You didn’t need some stuck up asshole telling you what you already knew.

“What do you even know about it? You don’t know me. You’re the kind of guy who’s friends with probably half of the city, you don’t know shit about loneliness,” you spat at him, trying to turn around to get your point across and look him straight in the eye. Instead, your foot slipped and almost like your body had a mind of its own, your hands let go off the railing.

The panicked scream that left you rang in Elvis’ ears. Your body never hit the water and as you opened your eyes, the stranger was the cause of that- he held onto your arm as he leaned further over the railing himself, reaching his other arm out to you as well.

You looked behind you, the dark river suddenly looking like nothing but a black hole that was waiting to swallow you down. You didn’t want your end to be like that- didn’t want to become a crying ghost of a helpless girl on the Brooklyn Bridge because nobody ever found her body.

God, you needed to stop watching those ghost hunting shows.

Looking back up at the dark haired man, you grabbed his other hand too, holding onto him tightly. Elvis didn’t come onto the bridge tonight with the plan to save a suicidal girl’s life- he merely needed some time alone and have a cigarette on top of the bridge while enjoying the view. But as he saw the pleading look in your eyes, he realised you didn’t want this at all. You wanted to live.

And for whatever reason, he wanted you to as well.

Before you knew it, he had lifted you up and back over the railing. Because of your panicked state, you hadn’t even noticed he put no effort into it or whatsoever, as if you were as light as a feather. He kneeled down in front of you as you sat on the asphalt, leaning against the railing of the bridge.

“I know more about loneliness than you think, little girl,” he gave you a gentle smile, caressing some strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re still young, you’re going to get what you want out of life- a nice job, a better apartment, friends to spend your time with. Tonight never happened. You were out for a late night walk on your own and then you went home.”

You had no idea if you were tripping because of the shock that was still coursing through your entire body and you had no idea if this guy was on any type of drug, but you could’ve sworn you saw the size of his pupils widening a little before they returned to their usual state. It looked.. abnormal.

Elvis didn’t give you the chance to respond- before you could, he was already gone and you were left with confusion and a weird feeling in your stomach.

You did went home that night, but you hadn’t forgotten about him. You hadn’t forgotten the words he spoke- in fact, you had been thinking about them every second of the day, every day. The first logical thought that came to mind was that he was some kind of weirdo, some old money kid that had too many zeros on his bank account and didn’t know what else to do with it other than experiencing with drugs.

There was no other explanation for the things he told you and the way his eyes seemed to shift so unnaturally.

It’s been two weeks since that night on the bridge and while your mental state hadn’t improved, you weren’t thinking of taking your own life so much anymore. Rather, your mind was filled with him.

He was a weirdo, that was for sure, but he had also peaked your interest. He was on your mind 24/7, which was definitely not normal, but you couldn’t help yourself- you wanted to see him again, talk to him again. Maybe, just maybe, a friendship was in the cards for you two. God knows you could use a friend in this damned city.

Unfortunately for you, this damned city was big. Finding a person you’ve only seen once in the middle of the night on the Brooklyn Bridge was like looking for a needle in a haystack. You felt like a fool walking around places in New York you usually didn’t go to- but what other options did you have?

Give up and go on with your life, maybe- your brain told you, but you weren’t planning to listen to the little nagging voices in your head.

He didn’t seem like the type of person to come into a coffee shop to type the hours away on a laptop, which you realised soon enough when you kept getting distracted at work, daydreaming that he would walk in. And you had no idea where he hung around- maybe he didn’t even live in the city.

Disappointed but not surprised, you made your way onto the platform to wait for the subway that would take you back to your side of town. It was late- you’d been wandering around sketchy neighborhoods after work and lost track of time, and the platform was eerily quiet. Too quiet for your liking, making you a little nervous.

You should’ve listened to your gut when it told you to get back on the street and surround yourself with people, but it was already too late when you noticed a few guys stumbling onto the platform. They made their presence known by being loud and they especially made it known that they had seen you- they didn’t hold back on the wolf whistles and were even as bold as to approach you, asking where you were going and tugging at your purse that you had clamped under your armpit. You kept quiet, trying to create distance without them noticing but when they did, it seemed to anger them.

They got more persistent and more aggressive and as one of them suddenly got hold of your purse’s strap and yanked you toward him, he was yanked backwards with even more force.

Before you knew it, your three assaulters were laying on the floor, scrambling backwards to the stairs as another figure stood in front of them. You only saw the back of his head, but your heart leaped in your chest- as he spoke, you heard the soft Southern accent that you hadn’t been able to forget about. Your adrenaline was too high to hear what he was saying, but it made the guys quickly get back to their feet and run up the stairs.

“Go home, Brooklyn. Your train’s here,” the stranger you had been hopelessly looking for for weeks looked at you. He seemed more serious than he was that night on the bridge, his facial expression oddly pained. You opened your mouth but no words came out- it didn’t matter because as the train came thundering into the station and your hair flew in your face, he was already gone.

Now, the rational part of your brain figured you were never going to see him again. It was unrealistic to fantasize about a stranger you knew nothing about- for all you knew, he could be a total creep, a murderer even. But there was a part in your brain, a part in your soul, that couldn’t shake him. Even more than before, he took up your every waking thought and you just weren’t willing to give up.

Not yet.

The next time you saw him was even more unexpected than the last. You wouldn’t say you were a clumsy person, but luck never seemed to be on your side either- when you almost got run over by a taxi while making your way home from work, you saw him again. Standing across the street, his facial expression seemed once more pained- perhaps, even a little angry. While people around him rushed to cross the street and the cab driver had rolled his window down to scream at you, you could only stare at your favorite stranger.

“Walk.”

Now that startled you. It wasn’t the little voice in your head talking to you, it wasn’t your own inner dialogue- it was his voice. There was an urgency in his voice and although you were freaking out on the inside, your feet dragged you forward. Closer and closer to where you wanted to go, who you wanted to go to. But just before you could reach him, someone ran in front of you to try and make the green light and once more, the raven haired mystery man had vanished into thin air.

You looked around and then behind you, your eye catching those of the cab driver that almost knocked you off your socks. He flipped you off for good measure before driving off and you didn’t even think to give him a response, which was unusual for you.

Cussing out terrible drivers, especially cabs, was one of your favorite things to do- but right now, your mind was too busy with cooking up a little plan. Maybe not a very good one, but it was worth a try.

Elvis knew what you were up to before you even set your little plan in motion. For the past few days, you had been getting yourself in trouble, making him show up and prevent you from seriously getting hurt. He didn’t know what it was about you, but he knew there was something.

His compulsion hadn’t worked on you because you still seem to recognize him. On that night on the bridge, you were like a closed book- your brain was like the freaking Davinci code. He couldn’t crack it for the life of him. Humans usually did a shit job at closing off their thoughts to other species, because most of them were simply not aware of their existence, but with you it was just impossible.

Until that night you were in the subway station. It was like he could hear you screaming for him- granted, he knew about your whereabouts all the time because he had been following you and keeping an eye on you, but he didn’t think you’d find yourself in actual danger. He was planning on eventually talking to you, maybe try to compel you to forget about him once more to see if it’d take this time- he didn’t plan to follow some little human girl around and be her own personal savior.

But he couldn’t stop himself. He found himself wanting to save you.

When he stopped the taxi just mere inches before it’d hit you and succeeded in communicating with you with his mind, he knew you weren’t like any other human.

There was no other explanation for it; part of you wasn’t human, but he wasn’t so sure you were aware. And he had no idea if it was his place to tell you about it.

“If you tell her, boss, her life will change forever. This isn’t something to take lightly. You know how most vampires feel about halflings, hybrids- whatever the heck they’re called these days,”

Elvis sighed softly as he held up his hand, sitting down across from Joe who was sitting at his desk in his little office at the bar. “We’ve talked about this, I work for you now,” Joe laughed softly at Elvis’ words, nodding as his face turned serious again, waiting for him to continue. “That’s what I’m worried about. Not all vampires are as accepting as we are- if they find her, they’ll dissect her like a damn science project. If I bring her here, into our circle, there’ll be trouble knockin’ on the door in no time,”

Joe folded his hands on the desk and sighed deeply, thinking it over. He knew just as well as Elvis that the supernatural society in New York would get word of what you were if Elvis brought you into this world and if so, vampires from other cities and even states would most likely not be able to stay away.

You were a rare specie- so rare that it was still strange, maybe even scary, to other vampires. There were only so much people like you wandering around and most of them weren’t actually aware of what they were or what they could and could not do. Vampires weren’t aware either, hence the need to use people like you as lab rats. The most common thought about the specie was that their blood could cure vampirism, which wasn’t very far-fetched. It was a possibility, but Elvis couldn’t imagine the procedure of taking your blood was a pretty picture.

He didn’t want you to go through that.

Compared to a few weeks ago, he wanted to be your savior. He was starting to care.

“Bring her here,” Joe said, making Elvis look up from gazing at his daylight ring around his finger. Joe smiled, his brown eyes soft as they smiled along- it was a genuine one, which took some worries off Elvis’ shoulders. “We’ll take care of her like she is one of our own. You and I both know how cruel the world is, especially the one we live in- she doesn’t sound like she deserves to find that out by herself. Bring her here, EP,”

Elvis hated how it felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He barely knew you, he wasn’t supposed to care… not this much. But for the first time in a long time, it felt like he had lost just a little bit of control over his feelings. Love was a tricky thing when you were human and even more so when you were not; maybe this time he didn’t need to lock up his heart to not get it broken anymore.

Thanking Joe, he made his way out of the bar and back onto the streets with a lame little excuse that he needed to take care of something. Which was the truth, he just didn’t want Joe to know what it was exactly.

He had heard you calling out to him, channeling him, the entire time he was in the office. Ever since the taxi accident, you had been getting yourself in trouble on purpose. He knew you were doing it on purpose and he knew why- it was when you found yourself in danger, that he’d show himself to you. You had no idea how he always managed to find you, but he did and your need to see him was so big that you got yourself in situations you’d never think to find yourself in.

Elvis found himself pushing through the crowd of New York’s largest vampire nightclub in midtown Manhattan. Masquerade was owned by a couple of big name vampires in the supernatural world and let’s just say, the Southern vampire wasn’t very fond of them and neither were they of him. He did not want to be here and he definitely did not want you to be here- it was dangerous for humans, even more so dangerous for you if anyone found out what you were. Which they would if they’d sink their teeth into you.

Seeing you standing in the middle of the dancefloor, sandwiched between two bloodsuckers, he groaned to himself and didn’t hesitate to make his way over to you. One could simply think you were having fun and although you didn’t think you were in actual danger, he knew better.

When he grabbed your arm and pulled you out from between the two other men and into his chest, he could smell the sweet scent of cocktails on your breath and see the intoxicated haze in your eyes.

“You’re here!” you grinned goofily at him, shamelessly wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him. Elvis ignored how his undead heart felt like it skipped a beat and placed his hand on the back of your head, pushing it into his chest to prevent you from seeing his vampiric face when he gave the other two vampires a warning glare.

You were probably too drunk to notice, anyways.

You didn’t stop him when he took you out of the club and just smiled at him with your eyes closed, swaying back and forth on the heel of your pumps as he draped his jacket around your shoulders. It was the same brown one he wore on the bridge.

Elvis made sure your cleavage wasn’t visible to him, because now was not the time to get distracted. He tried to get you to walk further away from the club with him but you gently pushed him off and leaned against the brick wall of the building.

“You’ve gotten.. b-better at it, you know?” you hiccuped, rolling your head against the wall as a giggle escaped you. You slowly opened your heavy eyes, looking at him.

He raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the way you were slurring your words. Seemed like the human part of you couldn’t handle her liquor so well.

“Better at what?”

“Saving me,” you sighed deeply, almost dreamily; you grabbed hold of the collar of his jacket, snuggling into the fabric while inhaling his scent.

It was a very… manly scent. Fresh, but strong. Manly. You liked it.

“I remember the night on the bridge.. like it was yesterdaaaay!” you sang, laughing loudly which made some people look and chuckle at you. Elvis took a step closer to you, putting his hand on the wall next to your head to create at least a bit of privacy. You looked up at him and grinned, poking his chest with your finger softly. “You said you weren’t trying to save me back then, but you were. You like saving me,”

He could stand here for another hour and entertain you with jokes and smart remarks, but he wasn’t going to. You were drunk and vulnerable and you were surrounded by curious vampires who suddenly weren’t so eager to get in the club anymore but rather see what was happening between you and him. Knowing what you were, or rather assuming what you were, his paranoid brain was warning him that everyone else knew as well.

He needed to get you out of here.

“You’re drunk- let’s go. I’m not done saving you,”

You chuckled at his words and followed his gaze toward some people waiting in line to get inside. Suddenly, it seemed like all their eyes were on you and even in your drunken state, it made your skin crawl. You allowed him to wrap his arm around you and take you away from the crowd, stumbling on your heels a little.

“Okay, Elvis, let’s go,” you smiled at him and he frowned as he looked down at you, letting out a small laugh. It sounded awkward, nervous. “You look like him- Elvis Presley. But he was hotter, sorry,” you said, giving him an innocent little shrug of your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” he laughed softly, shaking his head as he held you into his side a little more firm before your wobbly legs would give out underneath you and you’d fall face first on the pavement. “Let’s get you sobered up, little giraffe,”

You gasped, trying to sound offended but you couldn’t hold back the laugh that tickled at the back of your throat.

You didn’t tell him your name and neither did he ask for it- it could wait until tomorrow.

taglist: @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @woundmetender @returntoelvis @prayerstopresley @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @wonka-gifs @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @septembersghost

If you even still knew who you were tomorrow.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis angst #elvis presley angst #vampire!elvis #tamwrites

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steddiebang · 5 months

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Steddie Bigbang Weekly Round-up: November 12 - November 18

A kiss is a kiss Author: @assassinduckie / Artist: @hagnoart / @/hagno.art “A kiss can mean nothing. In his rather lengthy experience, it often does. Mean nothing, that is. And the fact that this kiss feels so not a good idea at all and the best idea he ever got at the same time? Well, that just makes it a good kiss, doesn’t it?He just didn’t think he’d have his first good kiss in months with Eddie “The Reformed Freak” Munson. Though he’d probably find the “reformed” bit rather insulting.”

I Wanna Be THE Guitar Hero Author: @abbididathing (AO3 / @theroundeviloftable) / Artist: @hextotal Steve surprises Eddie with the newly-released video game that he thinks is perfect for him: Guitar Hero. Shenanigans ensue, the game isn’t as perfect for Eddie as Steve once thought, and some tension develops. But then, Eddie gets a tip from the kids that changes his whole outlook on the game and he forms a plan to surprise Steve this time around. Or: a long-form prose love letter to established-relationship Steddie and their domestic chaos.

Don’t look back Author: dartlekey (tumblr / ao3) / Artist: chilly (tumblr / twitter) When Eddie Munson wakes from a month-long coma, the apocalypse has already started without him. The air is poisonous and monsters roam the streets of a half-destroyed Hawkins, but he’s also got problems of a more personal nature: For one thing, Eddie’s so weak he can barely walk on his own, and he’s pretty sure there’s something wrong with him, like, emotionally. For another, there’s the fact that Steve Harrington has begun turning into some kind of vampiric Upside Down creature. Also, he’s into men apparently, and more specifically: into Eddie. So there’s that. The way Eddie sees it, that leaves him with three problems to solve - one, saving the world, ergo destroying the Demobats’ nest in the Rightside Up, and closing the cross of rifts splitting the town. Two, saving his friends, so waking Max from her coma, and guiding Steve (read: domming Steve) into figuring out his new vampiric powers without hurting anyone, or getting his head blown off by their very trigger-happy “allies”. And three: figuring out what it really means to care for someone, and how far he’s willing to go for the man he’s rapidly becoming unhealthily obsessed with. Here’s to turning into the monsters people always said they were.

I Will Die In The House That I Grew Up In Author: kwills91 on twitter and ao3 / Artist: sheepsicles on twitter /communismkins on tumblr and ao3 Steve Six months after their battle in the Upside Down, Steve still can’t face talking to Eddie. He’s loud, and weird, and everything Steve wants but knows he can’t have. Right now he has to focus on making sure everybody is okay. Right now he has to plan for when Vecna comes back. But a stranger shows up declaring to be from the future and changes everything. Eddie Steve’s avoiding him and he doesn’t know why. But it’s okay because he’s found the kind of friendship he never thought he’d have with the last person he’d expect. Nancy Wheeler. But when a teenage girl shows up on their doorstep, Nancy insists they move in with Steve to help him keep her safe whilst they uncover the reason she was sent back, and why Vecna has somehow shown up again twenty-five years in the future. And how is he supposed to react when she declares that her parents are none other than Eddie himself and the guy he’s been crushing on since he did that goofy little wave six months ago? And on top of all of this, Vecna returns to throw a whole spanner in the works.

Nothing But Bliss Author: @oiveyzmir / Artist: @sunflowerharrington / Artist: @bbgirlsteve There’s no reason for Eddie to feel so wrong. Everything’s normal in his life; He lives with his uncle and his brother, his and his friends’ band is a moment away from making it big, he has a boyfriend he loves more than anything else and life’s pretty great, but something still feels… misplaced. His memories are all mixed up and he seems to be remembering his life incorrectly- sometimes he’ll feel pain or discomfort in places he isn’t even wounded in, he’ll have memories that go completely against one another, and there are some weird things his mind doesn’t allow him to even think about, such as red skies, bones snapping and the way Dustin screams his name. All in all, it’s easy to ignore, up until he sees a strange girl with blood trickling down her nose.

Moon Breaks Knight Author: alchemystique / Artist: sleepykiart / Artist: kaspurrcat [ twitter / tumblr ] Eddie has enjoyed the quiet solitude of the forest for years – the shifting breeze in the branches of trees he knows as well as himself, the den of chittering foxes and the mysterious hart who appears so rarely, the white ash tree that has grown up around him as he built a fortress away from the town he’d grown up in, away from the ghosts of his past.

Eddie has little desire to be drawn into the conflict stirring around the kingdom, but wards Eddie has spent his own blood, sweat, tears and song to build begin to fail, and woods that haven’t seen a visitor in decades keep shuffling people along towards the clearing in the forest where Eddie has made his home. The village where he’d buried his mother is destroyed by a darkness Eddie doesn’t understand, and wolves draw ever closer.

And The Sun Will Rise Author: @lexirosewrites / Artist: @feralsteddie Steve may not have the people who brought him into this world at his side anymore, but he’s found someone to hold him through the end of it. -or- As a packless omega suffering with isolation sickness, Steve is just trying to survive the zombie apocalypse. Instead, he ends up courted by a lovesick alpha and getting his dream of six kids and a Winnebago in the most unconventional way possible.

Sometimes I Close My Eyes (and dream of somewhere else) Author: patientanxiety / Artist: @notsecretlymisha Eddie’s POV. Everything is canon up to s4, where there is no more Upside Down (defeated at Starcourt). Something is up with Steve, and the whole party knows, but he won’t tell anyone. Somehow, Eddie got roped into worrying about him, too and ends up sharing his trailer! or, Basically Eddie’s freakout about discovering that Steve is a decent dude but then learns of all the trauma Steve has dealt with, but don’t worry, Eddie is there to catch him when he falls and maybe even falls in love along the way.

The Rainbow Connection Author: @hellfireloserclub / Artist: sweatypeaches When Rainbow Graveyard made it big, performing as their alter egos Knocks and Munster, it should have been everything Eddie had ever wanted - sold out gigs, number one platinum selling albums, and a band made up of people he had fought through hell with at his side. The upside down might not have killed him, but Eddie never imagined that being on stage with Steve every night would be the thing that finally finished him. Eddie is not a person that was built to be loved, he has no idea what to do with the feelings that threaten to tear him apart. Since they dragged each other from the brink of death, he and Steve have been doing a dance to which neither knows the steps, building a life out of the trauma that follows them like a shadow, seeping into each and every crack it can find. Being a rockstar hadn’t been in Steve’s future plans, but it was impossible for him to deny Eddie anything, full stop. He’d helped Steve put himself back together when the upside down literally pulled him apart, and now he was pretty sure that Eddie had kept a piece of his heart and held it hostage. Steve was too much, loved too fast and too hard and destroyed everyone and everything he touched. But when he got on stage, Knocks took the wheel, and what Knocks wanted was Munster. They say that sometimes you can have too much of a good thing, and sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. But how much of you is left when you’re living as the personified version of your worst self?

Tessellation Author: @maryofdoom / ArgentumCivitas / Artist: @sparkle-fiend Steve is a knight. Steve wants to be rescued. Steve knows how to swim. Steve is tired of the ranch. Steve is pretty good at stitches. And Steve has been told that the Void is endless. Eddie wears a knight’s favor. Eddie is a tiefling bard who’s here to save the day. Eddie is a rusalka. Eddie has a way with horses. Eddie is about to bleed to death in the guest room. And Eddie has seen the Void from the other side. Six stories, six universes, ad infinitum. Steve and Eddie.

I Could Have Loved You (You Would Not Let Me) Author: @stardustwalker on tumblr/ @stardust_walker on AO3 / Artist: @werew0rmon tumblr/ @werew0rm on twitter When Chrissy Cunningham dies, Max’s world falls into a spiral. It leaves her with more questions than answers and a new found need to know more about her past. Corroded Coffin has been broken up for over 20 years. Max knows the place she can get the answers she wants. Between the documentary about the band and her upcoming wedding, it might be easier than she thought. Until she meets Eddie Munson, the reclusive guitarist for the band who’s hidden himself away for years and isn’t as forthcoming as she hoped. Along with her father, Steve, he holds the answers she’s been looking for. What could go wrong?

For the Heart I Once Had Author: @hereforanepilogue / Artist: @grimweathers | @oriarts Steve gets his arms around Eddie, pins his wings to his back even as they flutter nervously. Eddie slumps against him, presses his face into the crook of Steve’s shoulder. He can feel Steve’s warmth through his clothes, so Eddie stays, even thought it might be the worst place for Steve to let Kas press himself.

🗡

Months after Vecna is defeated, months after things should be back to normal, Eddie is still stuck. Kas’s influence lingers, and with nothing to do but wait, he turns to his friends and D&D to try and pull himself back into normality. But the more time goes on, the clearer it becomes that normal might not be an option anymore.

Are You Experienced? Author: @madaboutmunson / Artist: @danadaria Everyone knows Steve Harrington, a local rich kid jock, the previous king of Hawkins High School. He’s got it all, money, a respectable family, and chicks love him. He’s even spending the summer learning what it’s like to be a real working man before taking on a role in his Dad’s firm because its builds character and empathy. Or is he something else entirely?

Is Steve a down-on-his-luck guy, stuck in a job he dislikes because his dad is teaching him a lesson, repeatedly striking out with the ladies, that his co-worker is fond of reminding him about?

Under all the many layers and masks, he uses to survive the day-to-day, Steve has secrets. The main one is how passionately he loves music. How it moves him in ways nothing else does, and he’s sure no one else could possibly feel the same, until his Mom gives him $50 to spend at the new record store.

21 upcoming projects to be posted next week (Nov 19 - Nov 25).

*To keep up with all the Steddie Bigbang 2023 posting, be sure to follow us @steddiebang or track tags #steddiebang23 masterposts, #steddiebang23 project promo, or #steddiebang23 upcoming projects.

#steddiebang23 #steddiebang23 weekly roundup

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jellymellydraws · 4 months

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Masterlist ~ <<Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter >>

Astarion x Dark Urge Chapter 09 Rating: E Tags: Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, two guarded people fall in love so hard it makes them stupid

Chapter Summary:

Several days of travel with various shenanigans ensue. Sazza offers to lead the team to her camp, they run into their first True Soul, and then a sudden storm forces them to take shelter in a nearby cave.

“Well if it isn’t worgmeat!” Sazza squawked, “you come to finish me off, then? Got your feelings a little hurt yesterday?”

“I thought your tribe was supposed to rescue you come nightfall,” Rose smirked at the goblin, “seeing as they hadn’t, seemed like you needed a hand.”

“Ah, praise the Absolute, she sent me a savior! Good to be free again, gotta say.”

“I hope the Absolute pays. I don’t do this out of charity.”

“No, s’pose ya wouldn’t. C’mon, lemme introduce ya to my tribe, put in a good word for ya. Priestess Gut would getcha branded, and trust me: the kinda power you’ll get from our goddess-- like non ya ever seen!”

Now we were talking. Sazza was playing her part in this plan very well, even if she didn’t realize it. Rose showed her a smirk, as a display of gratitude.

“Alright, lead the way.”

The goblin camp was meant to be a little over a day’s journey, especially with Sazza to vouch for them at the front door. But other than a couple of unexpected delays, the journey was relatively uneventful. Well, uneventful as far as traveling with a bunch of strangers would go.

- - The Boar - -

Not far from the grove, the corpse of a boar caught Rose's attention. It looked like it was sleeping, but she didn’t see its belly rise or fall. Something was off, and she didn’t like the uncertainty stirring in her stomach. She stopped their travel to look over it.

“The pig’s dead, my friend,” Astarion protested as she squatted beside the body, “there’s no bringing it back.”

“It’s the fact it looks not quite dead that bothers me…”

Honestly, she wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. So far, following her gut feelings (minus the murderous ones) led to some insight into herself. The flesh was cool to the touch, but it didn’t reek of death. No wounds that she could find—

No, wait, what’s this? Her fingers brushed aside a patch of fur along the beast’s neck, revealing two puncture marks. Astarion continued to bemoan behind her.

“Well? Have you decided it’s dead enough yet?”

“Look here,” she beckoned for him to crouch beside her, “these marks— does anyone recognize them?”

Wyll stepped forward and kneeled beside her, looking over the boar, adjusting its head so he could get a better look at the marks. Astarion continued to watch, standing above them. When she looked over, he averted his gaze.

“You’ve seen this before?” She eyed him expectantly.

“It’s been drained of blood,” he answered quickly, “and with marks like that in its neck, well…looks like a vampire did this.”

“Astarion’s right,” Wyll confirmed, “it’s bound to still be in the area, probably hiding in a cave or something.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” crimson eyes shifted back to Rose, “They’re ferocious creatures. I’ll keep watch tonight so we won’t have to worry about unwanted nocturnal visitors.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Rose sighed heavily as she stood.

“We done ‘ere?” Sazza’s arms were crossed, foot tapping impatiently on the dirt path, “Let’s go!”

- -True Soul- -

“Press the wound— not like that!”

A small trail shot off from their main path, movement could be seen behind the brush. Sounded like none of their business. She kept walking after their goblin acquaintance.

“You’re a True Soul! You can’t die!”

“Ah shiet,” Sazza stopped suddenly. Rose looked at her with a lifted brow. “I think I know ‘em, c’mon.”

Sazza changed directions and lead the group into the brush, approaching a pair of humans sobbing over a dying man.

“You! Stay back!” The redheaded woman shouted, glaring at the approaching strangers. A strange mark began to glow over one of her eyes.

The wriggling intensified in Rose’s brain. This time felt different than the others, not like connecting to another tadpole, but still yearning to engage…somehow. She took a step closer, intrigued. Bracing for anything, she eyed the crying woman and willed the parasite to connect. Whatever that meant here.

Nothing happened. No memories flooded in, but a connection was made. Well, sort of. The woman stared at her with wide eyes— still alive! At least she could cross off her ‘quirk’ as the cause of this strange sensation.

“True Soul!” The woman fell to her knees, bowing her head as did the man she was with.

“Yous a True Soul?!” Sazza exclaimed, backing away from Rose, “I-I didn’t know ma’am!” While she didn’t fall to her knees, the goblin offered a pitiful bow and meek stance. Not so high and mighty now, it seemed.

The rest of her group were all staring with just as much confusion as she was feeling. But the situation was clear, whatever the hells a ‘True Soul’ was, they had authority over these people. And she just established herself as a form of authority, apparently.

Praise the Absolute, indeed.

“State your names. What’s the situation?” Rose commanded, crossing her arms and eyeing the bowing humans.

“Brynna, ma’am,” the woman answered, “o-our brother, True Soul Edowin, he’s injured! I wasn’t thinking when you approached, forgive my disrespect.”

She eyed the body of the man on the ground, and approached it quietly. He was breathing shallowly, life slowly slipping away. Large claw marks left the padded robe in shreds, his blood staining the fabric. The dying man looked at her, and their tadpoles connected.

The two others were his siblings. He was the lucky one to be chosen by The Absolute, to lead them, in her name. Could she push for more? Learn more? She tried to see further into his mind. Large statues of a beautiful woman. Hanging braziers lighting a grand hall. Goblins everywhere.

“M-mind the True Soul,” his final orders, weakly, left his lips.

His last breath. His last words. How generous, that he handed her the credentials she needed.

The siblings sobbed over his body, Rose stepped back to give them space.

“You aren’t mad about that Worgmeat comment ay, True Soul?” Sazza pathetically asked, “I swears I didn’t know.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still breathing,” Rose maintained her stern face, but internally she was smirking.

Brynna said a soft prayer over her brother before getting up to her feet.

“True Soul, what are your orders?”

“First, catch me up to speed. What were you doing out here and what happened?”

Brynna explained their original orders were to investigate the nautiloid crash for survivors. Anyone found alive (or half alive) were to be brought back to the goblin camp. What they wanted from the survivors was not information they were privy to. Their brother, Edowin, didn’t stand a chance against an owlbear they crossed paths with. Rose could work with this. She didn’t like the idea that there were tadpoled-people looking for nautiloid survivors.

Taking advantage of this situation, she probed them for as much information they were willing to give. Easily, she took on the role of a True Soul who was sent to assist with…whatever the hell they were doing there. Her superiors gave little details and was told the other True Souls could fill her in, so she asked who those would be. Three, assuming no one else dies. One of them was a Drow, who had been sent to the Goblin Camp to fulfill a some assignment from the superiors that would have sent Rose. On her way to the Goblin Camp, she saw the nautiloid crash and found no survivors.

They bought the whole thing.

Sazza was ordered to escort the grieving siblings back to the tribe, and let the True Souls know to expect another would soon join them.

- - Much Ado About Tadpoles - -

The parasite squirmed ferociously in her head. The others doubled over at the same time, dealing with the discomfort in their own way.

“Wh-what’s happening?” Alfira looked around nervously. Her stare stopped on Rose as she fell to the ground. Then, her eyes widened in horror, “WHAT THE HELLS IS THAT?!”

Another tadpole squirmed out of Edowin’s ear and towards Rose.

“Shit! Tadpole!” Rose shouted.

A boot appeared in front of her, squishing the damned thing into the dirt. Bells jingled softly, in front of her.

“I got it!” The bard exclaimed, “i-is everyone alright? Was it that thing hurting you?”

Maybe it was time to tell Alfira about their parasite predicament…

- - The Owlbear Cave - -

CRASH

Lightning flashed above the trees, as rain pelted the party running through the woods.

“I see a cave over there!” Alfira cried.

Wet steps hurried to shelter, not caring for the mud that they tracked in.

“Everyone accounted for?” Rose looked back, mentally counting the people behind her.

“Little soggy,” Gale answered from the entrance, “but accounted for!”

“Good eye, Alfira,” Wyll complimented.

The bard, who was panting with exhaustion and supporting herself with hands on her knees, responded with a thumbs up.

Going deeper into the cave, the sound of thunder faded behind them. But a loud thudding began to approach. Massive claws scraped against the stone walls as a heap of feathers turned to face them. Larger than a bear, but snarling all the same. A beak pointed at them, yellow eyes locked onto its prey.

Shit.

Alfira showed potential against the owlbear. Even with a massive wound from its claws, she continued to play her lute and cast whatever magic she knew. Rose, Astarion, and Gale maintained a distance from the monstrosity, giving Wyll and Lae’zel more room to redirect its focus towards them. Shadowheart patched everyone up once the creature had been slain.

Between the injuries from facing the owlbear and the storm outside, they decided to make camp in the cave.

The rest of the cave was cleared, with the exception of an owlbear cub who now remained motherless. They left it alone with its mother’s carcass, seeing as it posed no threat to them, at least not yet. The cub wandered into their camp, chittering with a red face.

“What a delectable little pet,” Astarion grinned, putting aside the book he was reading.

Rose was setting up her tent when she saw the cub. Her eyes widened with delight that it wandered in. Shadowheart saw the joy on her face and shook her head with smile.

“You aren’t thinking about feeding it are— annnnd there she goes,” the cleric watched with amusement.

Yes, Rose was thinking about feeding it. She grabbed food from her pack and took long strides towards the cub. It hopped back, startled by her sudden movements.

“No no, it’s okay,” she cooed, slowly crouching down with the food in her hands.

The cub didn’t move, but its eyes were locked on the food. She tossed the food towards the cub. If it wasn’t going to get close, she still wanted it to know that it would get fed by her. It hesitantly approached the food, chittering as it nibbled at it. The smile on her face grew.

“The hand that feeds is the hand that’s loved,” Gale commented, walking over with a few others to watch the precious little bundle of feathers.

“Bah! We’ll never be rid of the beast!” Lae’zel shouted, startling the cub.

As it ran off, Rose’s smile fell to a pouty frown.

“I’d be careful. It was adorable, but still a monster.” Wyll warned.

“It’ll be back, mark my words” Lae’zel hissed.

“Gods I hope so,” Rose prayed.

“HA!” Astarion cackled loudly, “you actually want to keep it as a pet?!” he continued to laugh, loud enough that it was the only sound bouncing against the walls, “oh darling you are adorable .”

- - Cats - -

“Dammon thinks he could make due at a smith’s, so at least he has plans once we get to Baldur’s Gate. I’m not really sure what I’ll do, probably play in some taverns and hope to make it work,” Alfira was sharing what new lives the tieflings wanted to have once they arrived to the city, lightly strumming her lute to accompany her, “oh but Bex won’t stop talking about getting a cat!”

“I heard about this creature, this cat ,” Lae’zel said, “what is this thing?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know what a cat is, that makes sense, ummm” Alfira strummed through her thinking.

“Sophisticated, graceful, mind their own business,” Astarion listed off some traits, but that wouldn’t be very helpful.

“So they are intelligent beings?”

“No, some are very stupid,” Shadowheart added, smirking behind her glass.

“Must be a problem with their trainer, if that’s the case.”

“No— Shadowheart you’re just confusing her,” Gale interjected, seeing that the gith was getting further frustrated as she tried to understand, “Lae’zel, a cat— as we call it— is a domesticated feline that humanoids can keep as pets. Although, some scholars theorize that cats saw a benefit in a symbiotic relationship to humanoids so they could have domesticated us— but that is a different lecture. They’re small, usually furry, and they are predators to small birds and rodents.”

“Hmm…” Lae’zel took in the information, similarly to how Alfira took in learning about their tadpoles. A little confused, but seeming to understand a little of the explanation— just enough to keep asking questions, “is there a reason one would keep them in their home, if not as a guard?”

“Well, companionship is typically a reason someone would keep a pet.”

“And…they are cute but also ferocious?”

“Ah, that’s…I can see why that would be confusing. Oh, let me try this!”

Gale waved his fingers towards Lae’zel, who eyed him cautiously. Rose, Shadowheart, and Astarion sat closer together, waiting for some kind of show. Gale mentioned how he was a strong wizard back in Waterdeep, she was hoping that the gith was going to be transformed into a cat for fun!

In the space before Lae’zel, a small bundle of fur was brought into existence. A short haired orange tabby cat, meowing up at the more confused warrior.

“It’s alright,” Gale promised, “they aren’t going to hurt you.”

The cat hopped into Lae’zel’s lap, leaning up to sniff her face. She sat there, frozen. Uncertain.

“That’s it,” Gale smiled at her encouragingly and nodded, as if her response was correct, “now you put your head on its head and give it a little scratch behind their ears— gently.”

The conjured cat mewed softly, curling in her lap contently and stayed still. A yellow hand slowly hovered over its furry head, before she gently drew her nail behind its ear. A soft purr rumbled from the fur bundle. Immediately, Lae’zel growled back.

“No no, that’s not aggression. That’s called purring. A sound of affection.”

“Affection?” She glanced at Gale, but stopped growling at the adorable little pet. She continued to pet the cat, watching as it purred and relaxed in her lap, “This….hmm…I will allow this.”

The conjured cat never left Lae’zel’s lap. She fell asleep sitting up, with her hand resting on the cat’s back. The next morning she awoke with a blanket draped around her shoulders, but no one admitted to the gesture.

- - What did you do? - -

“You’re not allowed to guess, you know too much,” Rose pointed at Astarion, sitting across from him around their campfire.

“Oh you’re no fun,” Astarion pouted.

“I’m sticking to my original guess, hunter,” Shadowheart mused.

Rose knew it was only a matter of time before the whole camp realized they knew little to nothing about their leader. With Alfira joining their ranks, they made a game of having her guess each of their lives before they were captured. When it came to guess what Rose was, everyone else wanted to play. The assassin smirked and crossed her arms, as they all volunteered their guesses, some at the same time as others.

“Natural leader, prowess in battle, and well observed,” Lae’zel listed, “perhaps a guard of sorts.”

“Mmmm not quite guard,” Wyll pondered, “but you’re right about leading a group…”

“Sellsword then, or maybe just an adventurer!” Gale guessed.

“Oh shoot, I was going to guess that!” Alfira laughed, “ummm okay okay okay teacher!”

“Teacher?!” Rose laughed. Alfira shrugged with a big smile.

“I don’t know! All the good ones were taken!”

“You know what, I think I’m going to let Alfira win this one.”

Fruit pits and scraps were thrown at her with a resounding ‘booooo’ from the others.

“Does that mean I win?” Astarion smirked, “Because I’m pretty sure you’re a—”

“No— ow— Shadowheart stop it!”

An apple core hit her shoulder, Shadowheart grinning smugly at her last attack.

“Okay fine, I’ll tell you.” Rose tossed the thrown applecore into the fire, “I’m….going to bed,” she hopped up and escaped to her tent laughing as the troupe yelled after her. Astarion’s laughter sounded the loudest, and was immediately interrogated by the sore losers.

He refused to tell them. It was more fun that way.

- - As promised, we meet again - -

Aggressive lute strumming and shouted incantations awoke the entire camp. Wyll and Alfira had no time to alert anyone, only to act as a skeletal figure wandered into view. Rose launched herself from her tent, dagger ready.

Wyll’s blade was striking true, but the skeleton did not falter. Not even flinch. Not for a damned second.

“Nothing’s working!” Alfire cried, casting another spell from her instrument.

“But thou strikes do find purchase,” a tired old voice answered.

Gods damn it!

“ Withers!” Rose shouted above the combat, stopping everything in its tracks.

By the firelight, she could see the outline of the danger they faced. The skeleton with golden adornments on his face. She should’ve stabbed his perfectly targeted forehead when she had the chance. Wyll and Alfira looked between their unbothered enemy and exasperated leader.

“Thou hath acquired more to their party,” Withers noted, monotonously, “good.”

“Alfira, Wyll, meet Withers,” Rose introduced, massaging her temples to quiet the oncoming headache, “Withers, meet Wyll and Alfira. Sorry, I forgot you said you would find our camp when you were ready.”

“The memory issues aren’t so adorable when it’s interrupting my beauty rest,” Astarion had wandered out of his tent, along with literally everyone else that thought they were under attack.

“What is-- can anyone else explain what this-- what he is?” Wyll began stowing his rapier, but looked to the rest of the camp for answers.

“He floated out of a crypt we raided,” Lae’zel answered. Of the whole bunch, she looked most awake and alert, “Very durable for a bunch of bones.”

“He’s friendly-- well,” Shadowheart tilted her head with a shrug, “neutral, more like. At any rate, he doesn’t seem interested in giving us trouble.”

“As promised, we meet again.” Withers approached Rose with a closed fist, holding it out to her. When she extended her palm, a necklace fell into it. Silver with small skulls bundled together as a pendant.

“What’s this?” She asked, examining the jewelry. She felt the soft buzz of magic from it.

“It matters not,” was all he said before finding an empty corner of camp and planting himself there.

Gale eyed the necklace in her hand but did not approach. She saw him turn away when she glanced in his direction.

“So...” Alfira began to speak to Wyll as she sat herself down by the campfire “goblins, and skeletons, and owlbears?”

“Oh my...”

- - Vampire Lord - -

“Wyll, have you heard of a vampire lord by the name Cazador Szarr?” Astarion asked after a training session with Alfira.

“Can’t say I have,” Wyll wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Pity.” His face soured.

Rose glanced up from her journal. It was rare for Astarion to ask anything from anyone. Especially Wyll, who he preferred to tease and taunt.

“Patriar of the Szarr family,” Gale piped in, “Nasty fellow if the histories are accurate.”

“I imagine they are,” Astarion commented bitterly, “nevermind, I was just curious.”

“Do you have some connection to him?” The Blade pressed, “Can't imagine a Vampire Lord would be much trouble for a Magistrate of the gate such as yourself.”

Astarion didn't answer, he hid behind a sip of wine he was now sharing with Shadowheart.

“I presume your pockets are probably being lined by the Lord to keep him in power,” the cleric commented, as if it was a common occurrence.

“A vampire doesn't need to line his pockets for power,” the elf spat, “he just takes it...”

“Is that why you want to hire a Monster Hunter? To take it from him?”

Astarion glared at her, but had no response. Not one he wanted to give from what Rose could tell. This felt somewhat off-brand for him.

“If everyone’s done lounging, let's pack up camp and start moving,” Rose ordered, pulling their attention away from the subject.

She didn't expect him to realize her motives. But she smiled softly when he looked her way. If anyone could understand the need for secrets, it was her.

- - Calm Camp Days - -

During their travel, various friendships and groups were beginning to form among the companions. Some closer than others.

Gale and Lae’zel spend hours talking about life in Faerun and in Lae’zel’s creche. Usually the conversation was quiet and academic. Sometimes Gale had an excited outburst. At first, there was concern he was in danger, but later it became apparent that this was his reaction to finally understanding a subject he was struggling with, or an academic discovery. Sometimes, Lae’zel would ask Gale questions about the reagents Rose foraged for. Even if she knew their leader was capable of explaining them, she preferred the wizard’s by-the-book responses. As this foreign place became more familiar to the gith, she seemed to be more calm.

Their quips and tongue lashings were a source of concern at first, but it was just Shadowheart and Astarion being friendly with each other. Poor Alfira had been at the tail end of their teasing, until she learned to turn her songwriting talents into a weapon. The way she viciously mocked the elven menaces turned the camp into an uproar of laughter and applause. The three spent more time together, making a game of who could have the better quip when they were bored. All in good fun.

With his back against the cave wall, Astarion held the white ruffle shirt in his hand, and a threaded needle in the other. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he stitched the fabric together. The empty space beside him began to fill with clothes. Each companion asking if he could repair their favorite camp clothes. He rejected the role, at first. But between laundry, hunting, or sitting comfortably with a sewing kit, being the camp’s tailor wasn’t such a bad deal. Armor repairs had to go to Lae’zel though, he was adamant about that. Oh, and he wasn’t going to do any medical-grade stitching either.

Alfira spent her morning training with Wyll. While swordsmanship was not quite her forte, the lessons helped build her confidence in her other skills. He offered her suggestions on how to use her magic to assist the other fighters in the group. Even a well-timed distraction could be the difference between life or death. Shadowheart watched these lessons with awe. Lae’zel sometimes joined Shadowheart as an audience member, commenting on how Wyll’s teachings were not the same as her own. The cleric opened up similarly, admitting that her teachings were not very soft or gentle in any sense of the word. Wyll’s way of training was…refreshing.

- - Back on Track - -

Despite the setbacks that slowed their travels, the party was back on track towards the goblin camp. Connections were emboldened between the whole party, and Rose felt confident about their odds. Alfira had proved to be a quick learner under Wyll’s guidance. Astarion and Shadowheart looked to be friends (even if they didn’t want to be called that). Lae’zel had more tolerance for the rest of the group.

What a difference those few days made. Those goblins won’t know what hit them.

Next Chapter >>

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #durgestarion #astarion #dark urge #astarion x dark urge #bg3 fanfic #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #jellymellydraws

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keplercryptids · 1 year

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a rough summary of SOME OF THE SHIT that happened in tonight's d&d session:

💥 in the capitol, a coup against the reigning emperor kicked off, headed by members of her inner circle. fighting broke out in the street between the navy and the regular city guards;

💥 the party rushed through the intervening chaos to the palace to rescue the princess (their friend's niece and Just A Kid, you know?);

💥 in the palace, while fighting guards and soldiers alike, the PCs saw a massive fog cloud rolling over the entire city. flying above it was a man they've met before of mysterious power, known simply as Authority. he's very powerful, probably evil, and he's Here, with his own army;

💥 fog cloud rolls over the PCs and they all fall asleep, where they embody figures of authority in the version of the city that's dreaming, talking to themselves (rped by me);

💥 except one of the PCs! who is immune to dream magic and has to go into her friends' dreams to rescue them;

💥 dream shenanigans include: fight between angels and a dragon; sad wizard tutor lore drop and a kraken; the troubling power of one of the PC's sisters is revealed (and it's some light, casual, horrifying garden necromancy, oops); the emperor has a complicated relationship with her sister and it's A Whole Thing;

💥 party successfully wakes up, goes to rescue the emperor (princess is safely out of town, turns out), and gets a message beamed into their heads that the empire belongs to Authority now. if you bow to him it'll be totally fine, he promises;

💥 the party fights some of Authority's soldiers on their way out of the palace, to discover they don't die. these weevils wobble but they do not go down;

💥 in the ensuing fight to reach their friends all over the city, two longterm npc allies die or accept their impending deaths (rip daro and ibis); all the government heads die (named npcs the players have known for YEARS); PC's sister continues doing Concerning Necromancy that turns one of her fingers to bone, aaa???;

💥 immediately after witnessing the bone finger, this PC gets a call from her long distance girlfriend. surprise, she's pregnant! oh is now a bad time??;

💥 every person who fell asleep during the attack and didn't get woken up (so. the whole city) is hypnotized to think everything is cool. greater restorations fix the most important npcs but that leaves a whole city of confused, vulnerable people;

💥 party teleports as many innocent people as they can out of the city, then begin a journey to escort a couple of royal kids and the emperor out of the country;

💥 on the way out, more npcs are dead, they learn! the city is covered with gray mist, zombies, and hypnotism, being ruled over by a dude who's just a little too tall to be normal. things have looked brighter.

and it was a shorter session than normal! i feel like i just ran 18 miles lmaooo.

anyway the end game times are truly here for the reforged gang~

#jd&d #reforged campaign

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d8tl55c · 1 year

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can't believe i inflicted --|"/,'\_|-•/_' on this poor whiteboard

it's closed now but i had a lot of fun coming in late and messing around... complimenting people anonymously... being cryptic...

[ CC:

Dark (code): WOAH WOAH WOAH! hold on!

Second: ?????

Dark (code): before i die...

know this

...

gotcha

Chosen (code): STOP!

Chosen (code): you're going to waste so much time!!!*

Dark (code): THAT'S WHY IT'S FUNNY

Chosen (code): DAMN IT DARK ]

* --|"/,'\_|-•/_' is hard to translate quickly

[ CC:

Dark (code): *lol*

Chosen (reluctantly): *also lol* ]

it's an inside joke with myself that Dark and Chosen learned / made up / found my secret code, --|"/,'\_|-•/_' , and that's just how they talk now by default. either to mess with people, for privacy, or just that they didn't feel like learning other languages...

or...?

and then i stumbled upon @nesiclor's AvA:NO and one of(?!?! so many questions- i am excited to see where this goes! it's wicked cool thus far \o/) its languages (example from last July) and... ideas happened.

something about different types of stickfigures' code consisting of different proportions of --|"/,'\_|-•/_' ... with connections to '/|..'L'_'||-• '/-|L'-_[,- ... involving the unique dialects its original writers had ... many ideas!

a bit of hcs about the Internet/Desktop environment, a bit of biology, a bit of psychology, a little in and a little out of canon, etc. etc.

this all culminated in a jumble of notes fic exploring a scenario where when Second meets CG in AvA IV, they don't understand him at first: his speech sounds kind of like hard drive whirring and error beeps.

but then, pop! he acclimates to how the others are speaking. that's convenient. everyone forgets it ever happened. think that scene in WALL-E when EVE tries out a bunch of languages before finding one that works. or little kids working out how to talk to one another easily because they're so good at language acquisition...

...until the chosen one returns, you could say,

and huh y'know something about the sound he makes is familiar

[ CC:

Dark (code): LOL

Dark (code): look at this guy

Chosen (code): lmao

Second: ??? ]

aaaaand shenanigans ensue.

that's more of a small AU than a headcanon of mine though. and i probably won't even post that fic

it's mostly very dramatic, stream-of-consciousness bullet points

and why they're being friendly with post-ep.V Dark is another story entirely (long story short this time i just made it as a meme before thinking about ANY of this-)

but regardless

you'll probably see more |-•( |'['-L'[,- from me. ~

#developed this code with some buddies a few years ago in another fandom #we would practice by typing ONLY in --|''/;'\_|-•/_' and annoying every other member of the group chat #which was of course GREAT FUN #me and this other person even private chatted in pure code #['-L' ;=|..';=•-|'//_'-_ !#still got it!#it's a bit hard to use without commas tho lolol. luckily i dont use a lot of ;- 's.#designed to be typable! zero shade to untypable writing systems those are wild /pos <3<3 #they don't have to worry about tumblr messing up their coded tags =v= quotes and commas omg #i made up capitalization and duplicate-shortening and an attempt at diacritics...#maybe ill discuss the origins one day #--/ art #alan becker #animator vs animation #ava the dark lord #ava the chosen one #ava orange

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tearose26 · 1 year

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Lockwood and co fic recs

Since I’ve spent way too much time trawling tumblr and ao3 drowning myself in lockwood and co related content, I might as well do my bit for the fandom and put out a fic rec list.

I’m definitely a locklyle-focused reader, but there’s a loooot of fic out there that sacrifice characterisation for romantic scenes or are have a narrative voice with the melodrama pitched way too high. The following are fic that I find myself rereading. (Note that I have not looked at fanfiction.net or wattpad, the latter of which frankly scares me a little).

bending at the heart of me by lady_mab

Lucy/Lockwood, Oneshot, 4,039 words

Lucy and Lockwood’s outing at the Fittes Halloween ball is interrupted by Lockwood getting his drink spiked

Really great characterisation and dialogue; if the romance was dialed down, it could very well be a scene from the TV show or books

I love the lived-in domesticity of their interactions, and how there is very clearly a romantic tension running underneath that threatens to surface, but they stay in that delicious space of not-quite pursuing it

take pride in what is sure to die by the_one_that_fell

Lucy/Kipps (platonic), 4 chapters (so far), 12,305 words

Book 3 spoilers for Chapters 3 and 4

Not a locklyle fic yet probably my favourite Lockwood and co fic??

Kipps spots Lucy having a drink at the pub and the two unwittingly find themselves bonding over losing people at their work

The implications of the worldbuilding in the show are absolutely ripe for fanfic to come in and explore, and this one does that, specifically for the question “How do young people cope with the trauma of ghost hunting?”

I love watching these two learning to worry about and look out for each other, and the added details about Kat, Bobby and the Portland Rowe crew are a delight

Will have you laughing one moment then swiftly stab you in the chest the next

Haute Couture by bubblesodatea

Lucy/Lockwood, 9 chapters (complete), 52,217 words

Book 3 spoiler characters present

Fashion AU! Lockwood is a up-and-rising model, Lucy is a fashion reporter, George is a photographer, and Holly and Kipps run a fashion house

Fashion shows, parties and social media shenanigans ensue!

In full seriousness, this is a really excellent, lovingly-detailed execution of the AU

Everyone is an adult living in a modern, ghostless world, and hence are less sharp-edged and traumatised, but the characters are still recognisably themselves

Lovely slowburn romance between Lockwood and Lucy as they go from tentative friendship to something more

Easily done by The_Biscuit_Agreement

Gen, Oneshot, 1391 words

I’m just gonna copy the summary, which really tells you all you need to know:

"We are containing the source," Lockwood told her. Lucy shook her head, going to lift the net off her face. "We don't even know where the source is," she returned. "We do. Trust me," Lockwood replied. "I ate it," George said, sheepishly.

it’s the house telling you to close its eyes by halfahint

Lucy/Lockwood, Oneshot, 4,144 words

Lockwood keeps sleepwalking into Lucy’s attic bedroom

Despite the tropey premise, the execution is realistic, careful and full of the gentle warmth and tenderness from the TV show

I love watching the two slowly size each other up, exchange vulnerabilities and delicately dance around the question of what they mean to each other

#lockwood and co

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margle · 1 year

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Half-baked theory time:

Probably two scenes from The Gang Gets Cursed.

Mac is not present in the funeral!

Mac meets his online boyfriend Chase Utley (look idk - there have been no other men in the trailers so far)

For some fucking reason he takes him to a graveyard. Probably based on terrible advice from the new D.E.N.N.I.S system

They walk in on a triple funeral.

((This could be Mac's uncle and Charlie's sisters because this is the episode after the road trip. The graves are small but idk maybe Americans bury urns. Also it would be funny if all of Charlie's discovered relatives just died as soon as he reconnected with them. Alternatively, these could be the people that die in order for Mac and Charlie to get the inheritances in the first place.))

Most likely to be three dead rats' graves because the pet statues and small headstones make me think that it is a pet graveyard. Also, from Charlie's animated dream in The Gang Saves The Day, we know he likes burying rats.

Shenanigans ensue

(Dennis spots Mac on his date and the gang decide to mess with him and pretend to haunt him???)

#iasip #always sunny #sunnyblr

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l-i-n-u-s-k-a · 2 months

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miss maya fey for the ask game!!

FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH

First impression: she is so silly,, I love her

Impression now: Maya Fey save me Maya Fey save me Maya Fey I love her so much good gobus, she's such a good character I would die for her I would kill for her but I won't because she would probably get suspected for the murder

Favorite moment: (spoilers ending of Trials and Tribulations) when at the end of the last trial of bridge to turnabout, even after confessing everything he did and admitting he did it for selfish reasons, Maya still thanks Godot for saving her life, because despite everything he still protected her and was on her side against all odds, and he is so touched by this raw display of kindness the Godot mask drops and realises how truly wrong all his actions had been and doesn't deserve gratitude from this little girl. This moment lives rent free in my head I'm constantly thinking about it

Idea for a story: I want more silly antics with her and Phoenix!!! Specifically I would love a story based on the officially licensed comic where they get handcuffed to eachother and obviously when Gumshoe can't find the key, shenanigans ensue. This trope is older than myself but I still love it. I guess I'm nostalgic for it for how often it was featured on Disney Channel

Unpopular opinion: I don't know how unpopular it actually is, but I don't think Maya ever regretted taking the position of master of Kurain. Of course I don't think it was ever easy for her, plus it comes with a lot of emotional baggage, but to me the culmination of her character is how she grows from being lonely and abandoned, or even shunned by her own family, to learning to rely on all the people who love her and whom she loves back, how she gets her strength from her all friends and family who support her, and that is how she decides to take over the role of master, not only out of obligation or responsibility, but because she wants to give back to the people who have been on her side when she felt hopeless, she wants to be mature and responsible for them, so that she can build a family and village based on love and respect

Favorite relationship: PHOENIX AND MAYA FRIENDSHIP FOREVER AND EVER!!! They're my bread and butter, they're my living breath, if Phoenix and Maya friendship have one fan it's me, if they have zero fans I'm dead

Favorite headcanon: she has a pink DS and all other kinds of early 2000s girly accessories and charms. This is totally because Ace Attorney is an early 2000s franchise, but idc shut up I'm projecting

#ask meme #ask memes #maya fey #ace attorney

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voidbooper · 11 months

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I have this AU idea stuck in my head and I need to exercise it out of my brain.

Goofy silly dramatic Death Note x Persona 5 au where instead of light finding the Death note one day at school he instead somehow finds his way into a palace, or more likely mementos, and awakens to his persona (obviously his persona is Ryuk) and starts killing people in the name of justice and “I’m a god of the new world” stuff. This would probably be around the same time Akechi awakens to his persona or a short time afterwards.

Eventually the phantom thieves form and by now Kira is a well known vigilante that causes his victims to die under weird circumstances and eventually Akira and everyone figures out that Kira has to be a persona user cause there’s just too much evidence pointing to it.

L of course has been following the case for, at this point, a couple years and is upsetting stumped on how Kira is killing, light of course is a suspect and they’ve interacted but L has nothing concrete to prove lights Kira.. until *drumroll* he calls in a certain celebrity hit man to see if maybe their similarities to each other will push light to exposing he’s Kira, and Akira ends up getting brought along as well since Akechi’s free time events are now Kira based

Silly shenanigans and drama ensue as Akira, Akechi, and Light attempt of keep some very big secrets from each other and L

#persona 5 au #death note #persona 5 royal #persona 5 #goro akechi #persona 5 akira #light yagami #l lawiet #l deathnote #ryuk is still a little bastard but now he’s literally a part of light #the four of them are sitting across from each other like the Spider-Man meme #Akechi and light for sure have ran into each other killing people

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annieedisonslostpen · 2 years

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Here are some shows I recommend to everyone!!! I just want the chance to gush about my favorite shows and if this convinces you to watch any of them, then I will consider my life’s mission complete and I will die peacefully 💕 (these are in no particular order btw)

1. It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

- I love this show. I love it so much. The first show to ever make me laugh OUT LOUD in my empty home while watching, like a full on belly-laugh even with no one else around. I got my roommate/bestie/partner to like this show, and now our dorm room is covered in iasip stuff. It’s half satire and half pure comedy, with some really dynamic and funny characters and a super simple premise (5 people own a bar. They get up to shenanigans around Philly. They are also the most terrible people on the planet and have no regard for others.) I know a lot of people hate the first season (probably for good reason, the political satire didn’t click very well from the get-go and its… difficult… to sit through some scenes) but I still enjoy it purely for how funny the characters are despite being awful people. Notable episodes are The Nightman Cometh (4x13), The Gang Solves the Gas Crisis (4x2), A Very Sunny Christmas (6x13), and The Gang Dances Their Asses Off (3x15).

2. Barry

- this is the most recent show that I finished all the way through, and I have to say, it’s really that good. Bill Hader is a really amazing actor — I had only seen him on SNL before this, and I had no idea he could display such a perfectly horrifying range of emotions. It starts a little slow; the first couple of episodes are good, not outstanding, but then it really picks up and creates a super strange, almost surreal atmosphere of tension/emotion/drama. Basically, the premise is that a professional hit man realizes his true passion is acting, but can’t seem to shake his past and move forward with his plan of redemption. A super great show. Honestly I can’t pick a single episode or two that are my favorite, but Ronny/Lily from season 2 was nominated for an Emmy I think, so check that one out :) this show is also very very violent so just giving you a warning now lol

3. Arrested Development

- this show is so good??? what???? honestly I never watched the last two seasons (I tried — I failed), but the third season ends the show perfectly, you don’t have to watch after that if it’s not holding your attention like it didn’t hold mine. I don’t even know how to describe how well this show (especially the first season, which is the best first season of almost any show I’ve seen) interconnects all these crazy jokes, plot lines, and characters so effortlessly. It’s fucking insane. I think (?) Drew Gooden made a video about how AD was ahead of its time, go check that out if you’re interested in hearing more about the humor style bc it’s really hard to explain. The premise is that a super rich family ends up losing their money when the patriarch is sent to jail for fraud (??) and hijinks ensue. Best episodes are Bringing Up Buster (1x3), Pier Pressure (1x10), and Let ‘Em Eat Cake (1x22).

4. What We Do In The Shadows

- vampires who live in Staten Island with their human familiar, what could be better than that?? I am not going to sit here and say that this show is amazing or perfectly written — it’s not, but something about the passion that the actors put into their roles, how they absolutely fully commit to the goofiness, is super endearing and hooked me from the beginning. It’s campy and fun with a dark sense of humor, and really sells its concept well. Vampires!!! Blood!!! Homosexuals???? The Casino (3x4) is a standout episode to me, but most of the episodes are about the same quality in my mind.

5. Succession

- yeah this show deserves all the fucking awards. It’s so good. I almost never choose to watch dramas, but I was promised gay people, and while that kind of didn’t shape out, the rest of the story is just amazing. I’m sure you guys have heard people rave about this show, and you should listen to them, because they are fucking right!!!! On the outside, it looks like a bland, colorless business drama, but once you dive into it (the first half of season one is kind of a slog), there is so much pain, love, redemption, loss, and beauty hidden under the layers of the show (and this reflects the characters too — stale from the outside, but much deeper and intriguing on the inside). The writing is spectacular. The jokes are actually funny?? The camera work and acting is incredible (seriously, props to Jeremy Strong for making me have overwhelming levels of empathy for his shitty, horrible character. Also, all the other actors and actresses are amazing, I can’t think of a single one who put in less than 110% into their role). Just go watch it. All the episodes are good, but the beginning episode of season 3 is such a strangely compelling and relatable character journey for Kendall, I felt way too many emotions in one sitting.

6. Stranger Things (Season 1)

- I am currently at the end of season 2, and while I still really enjoy it, I don’t think there has ever been a more cohesive and enjoyable first season of a show than Stranger Things. Like.. when people were hyped about this… it was deserved. I only recently got around to it, but yeah, it’s just as awesome as people say it is. The horror elements are really well done (I normally hate gore and horror and scary stuff, but I found myself not even shying away or being grossed out, it just fits so perfectly into the story that it wasn’t off putting to me at all), and the characters are so dynamic and realistic and interesting that I felt myself so incredibly compelled to watch the next episodes just to see what the characters did next!! I’m trying to think of characters that I disliked from the first season, and I genuinely can not think of any (Steve is a little flat, but he’s not super important this season so I forgive him). The plot is so unsettling and creepy, I was sitting on the edge of my seat watching most of the season. The soundtrack slaps, the direction is awesome, the set pieces are fun to look at and make perfect places for action to occur. All the storylines coming together at the end occurs so smoothly that I was actually shocked they managed to pull it off, and none of the things the characters did made me irrationally frustrated like in most horror media (except when a few characters of the main group split up for an episode — that was kind of stupid and didn’t need to happen). I like the time period they decided to set it in I guess, I felt nostalgic for the 80s even though I was born in 2003 lmao. Just go watch the first season, you won’t regret it.

Okay I might make a part 2 later because I’m tired of typing, but hopefully you guys will give these shows a chance!!! 💕💕💕

#tv #television #show #iasip #wwdits #succession #stranger things #Barry #arrested development #drama #comedy

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katastrophic-n3vulaa · 1 year

Text

Torn Pages: Chapter 2: Heights and Scarecrows

By: n3vulaa_undercover (Ao3) & BlueCalibriFont (Ao3)

Book Summary: Inumaki tears through reality like it's made of paper, and he and his classmates find themselves in a world not their own. Violence, sleep-deprived Gojo's and shenanigans ensue.

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1: Bloodstained Ink (click!)

Next Chapter: Chapter 3: Snakes & Spirits Behind Locked Doors (click!)

The full character list can be found here (click!)

Characters in this Chapter: Kugisaki Nobara, Fushiguro Megumi, Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura, various Shikigami

Chapter 2 Word Count: 3895

Chapter Summary:

Nobara hates falling. She falls from the sky.

Fushiguro is lucky he has a massive hawk.

Nobara thinks the person that looks a little like Gojo-sensei is terrible, stupid and every synonym for awful.

Naruto likes the big dog, that's nicer than Kakashi-sensei's dogs.

Kakashi isn't a fan of this development, the people that fell from the sky.

Sakura is the only person to exist here with an ounce of common sense.

Chapter Notes:

Nobara, my dear murder gremlin. I'd like to formally apologize for the fear of heights I gave u <3

Update: Nobara was not pleased with the fear of heights. She started insulting everyone and threatening homicide. Which makes her a slightly unreliable Narrator.

Chapter 2:

Nobara is falling.

She's falling, she's falling and she can feel her hair wildly lashing at her face, she's going to die, going to hit the ground- that she can't see because she's falling, and her eyes are burning as the wind whips about at higher speed, and there's nothing she can do to so much as slow herself down. Where's Fushiguro and Itadori? Where's Inumaki-senpai?

Where is Gojo-sensei to catch her -the one time she needs it- with that insufferable laugh, with his stupid, idiotic -notcomfortingno- know-it-all grin?

She is going to die, she realizes, with a clarity she hadn't realized one could achieve when falling at sixty miles per hour. There's no Gojo-sensei to save the day at the last moment, and Itadori and Fushiguro were probably falling with her, just as incoherently panicked, and the last she'd seen of Inumaki he'd been choking on his own blood, flowing out of his mouth, falling through a rift in worlds- not even conscious.

She's helpless. She can't do anything, her techniques -that she worked so hard for- won't, can’t help her in this situation, she can't even save herself. And she thinks she sees the ground now- hurtling closer, and she's going to die-

Something grabs her by the shoulder, razor-sharp claws- no, talons, breaking skin and drawing blood that she can't see- whycan’tsheseeit- but she can feel it, sticky and warm as it trickles down her arm, and the momentum continues to –grab-pull-wrench- her downwards; she can feel it, gravity pulling her down- until she manages to jerk in a breath, and her vision clears slowly.

She cranes her neck to get a look at her saviour, and sees a mess ochre feathers, atop which she catches a glimpse of familiar spiky black hair.

Fushiguro.

Trying to shake off the terror and still riding the high of panicked adrenaline, she scowls up at him. "Took your sweet fucking time!" She shouts, internally cringing at her trembling voice. Fushiguro either doesn't hear her weakness over the roaring of the wind, or graciously chooses to look past it.

"I could always drop you," he shoots back wryly, and though she knows he isn't serious- has lived with him long enough to parse through his deadpan tones, she can't help but tense, just a little. She doesn't ever want to fall like that again. She doesn't want to ever be that helpless again. And she won't be, not if she has anything to say about it.

"Any sign of Itadori or Inumaki-senpai?" She asks, changing the subject with all the grace of a drunk bull in a china shop. She is genuinely interested though, genuinely worried. Those two… had fallen through the... portal? Hole? Whatever it was that Inumaki had done, before her, and now that she can see just how close the ground is...

There's no response. The silence is answer enough.

Her insides clench in a way entirely unrelated to the nauseating heights.

"I'm going to kill them." She mutters to herself, because they have to be alive to be killed, and they are alive. They have to be. Itadori is too stubborn to die anyways, something she knows from firsthand experience, and though she doesn't know Inumaki-senpai all that well, she’s sure he will be alive, he'd been doing this for longer than she has, so surely, surely, he must have some tricks up his sleeve.

Never mind that Inumaki could've been dead before he even hit the ground back in the courtyard, drowned in his own blood because of their boredom. Ignoring that relying on Sukuna, the literal King of Curses to heal Itadori again if he'd been killed- again- was worse than naive, worse than foolish-

They would be fine. They had to be fine.

"I don't feel their cursed energy." Fushiguro says quietly, so quietly that she almost doesn't hear him. "Maybe the portal spat them out somewhere else."

Maybe.

Maybe it's stupid to hope. Maybe she should expect the worst so that she isn't disappointed when they find their broken, bloodied bodies. If they find them at all.

But the last time she'd thought a classmate dead, he'd jumped out of a stupid box with an even stupider grin on his face, so maybe, just maybe, she'll hold on to that flickering spark of hope for now.

Without warning, Nue dives sharply, and Nobara will take her ensuing startled shriek to the grave. She'll see to it that Fushiguro will too.

The landing is rough and awkward, with Nue pre-emptively dropping her onto the floor. Nobara lands shakily on her feet, still feeling faintly nauseous, and glares up at Fushiguro, who stares back, decidedly unbothered as he slides off of his Shikigami.

"I'm going to cave your skull in if you breathe a word of this to anyone." She threatens; he blinks what she takes to be his consent. Fushiguro goes to dispel Nue, but not before Nobara ruffles the birds' feathers in thanks.

"You're my favourite teammate," she whispers to it, eying Fushiguro smugly. He rolls his eyes at her antics, and finishes the banishment, bringing forth Divine Dog in Nue’s place.

She stares at the dog because- is he bigger? Judging by Fushiguro's baffled stare, he doesn't know why his Shikigami is now the size of a small pony either. Well, it's his technique, and therefore his problem.

"For tracking." Fushiguro adds unnecessarily, snapping out of his confused reverie, and the two of them set off in search for their classmates.

They travel in uncomfortable silence, the absence of Itadori like a reopened wound in their usual dynamic. The silence is occasionally interspersed with Divine Dogs sniffling and Nobara’s muffled cursing whenever she almost trips over an upturned root, but neither of them dare start up a proper conversation.

"The cursed energy is weird here." Nobara remarks, finally mustering up the courage to break the suffocating quiet. "Clean. It's everywhere too," she elaborates, and Megumi frowns pensively. "Mm." He agrees wordlessly. "Where do you think we are?" She continues, and Fushiguro shrugs, clearly just as clueless as she is.

There's something fundamentally wrong with this place. Like something is missing, something she hadn't been aware of until now, when she can't feel it anymore. Maybe it's how shiny and pervasive the cursed energy is here.

She scowls irritably, thoroughly done with this weird-ass forest and it's too-bright cursed energy when something- cold and hard presses against her neck.

"Don't move." Her attacker’s voice is cold and indifferent, deep voice likely indicative of a males. Her throat tightens and she feels like she's falling all over again, the same bitter helplessness choking her.

Fushiguro's eyes are wide, and Divine Dog is barking furiously, but they can't retaliate because she's a fucking hostage-

And just like that, her indignation overpowers her crippling fear, because she's no one’s fucking hostage, thank you very much, so she grabs the kunai, ignoring the white-hot agony of the ensuing cut with practiced ease, and elbows her attacker in the gut. He seems surprised, and she draws back, leaping over to Fushiguro. She finally gets a good look at her attacker, and she balks, because-

Gojo-sensei? Wait no, of course not.

And on second glance, the previously uncanny similarities fade away, replaced by the glaring differences. For one, this man’s hair is a dull silver-grey in stark contrast to her teacher’s snowy white locks. And his single visible eye too, is a dark gray, almost black. Speaking of, a good three fourths of the man’s face is obscured by a mask and some kind of headband for whatever reason. Maybe it was a fashion statement? Or maybe he was hiding some horrific scarring under there. Might be a potential weakness. But perhaps the most obvious difference between the two is their cursed energy. Gojo's is a massive, wild thing, an unfathomably deep ocean of power that he flaunts at every given moment like the diva he is. This man is lightning, controlled and restrained like a leashed dog. And obnoxiously bright, just like everything else in this fucking forest.

The dull ache of her palm brings her back to reality, just in time for her to see two more irritatingly bright spots jump down from the trees. She's going to have a headache soon if more people keep appearing from the underbrush.

"Why did you attack us?" Fushiguro demands, Divine Dog bristling behind him. "Who gives a shit." Nobara hisses, pulling out her hammer and nails. "I'm going to kick their asses anyway."

"What village are you from?" Disco ball #1 asks, tense and loud, ignoring Megumi's question. He's young, can't be older than fourteen, and there's something underlying to his dazzling cursed energy that she hadn't noticed before, something dark and angry. Something that feels familiar, and like actual cursed energy instead of whatever the other two's Kleenexed bullshit is supposed to be. It still doesn't feel or look right, but something about it almost reminds her of Itadori.

"What, you want to exchange addresses? Have a little slumber party?" Nobara mocks, because she sure as hell isn't telling these random people where her hometown is. What kind of question even is that? Does she look like that much of a country-girl? "Nobara. Look at their clothes." Fushiguro mutters to her and bold of him to assume she hasn't already been judging their sense of style since they leapt from the trees, but she takes a second look anyways. They're all wearing a bizarre combination of ninja cosplay mixed with tactical gear. They also all have forehead protector engraved with identical insignias. Are they part of some cult? Or a maybe clan? She doesn't recognize the sigil, but they might be from one of the minor families that she doesn't know of.

"So? They're really dedicated LARP-ers. Or they have a shit sense of fashion." It's a weak explanation, even to her own ears. Their clothes look worn from practical use, and pretty damaged, like they'd been in a fight recently. Much like their wearers now that she looks closer at them.

She's actually kind of offended. Disco balls #1 and #2 look to be on the verge of passing out, and Discount Gojo's uniform was torn and bloodied in several areas. Did they really deem her such a low-level threat that they felt they could take her and Fushiguro on looking like that? She's almost impressed by their audacity.

"Maybe we should all just calm down-" Discount Gojo says slowly, and ha, isn't that rich. "You're the one who held me at knifepoint, asshole," she reminds him snappishly, brandishing her hammer defensively. But Divine Dog isn't growling anymore, and Fushiguro has lowered his fists, even if he's still in a defensive stance. She shoots him a betrayed look.

Discount Gojo blinks slowly and tilts his head. "I suppose I did. My bad" He muses, and Nobara bristles. He supposes? He fucking supposes? She's going to kill this asshole, screw diplomacy or whatever it is that Fushiguro is trying to accomplish. She lunges forward with murderous intent, and she can see both Disco Balls startle into defensive positions, but something, no, someone grabs her by the collar and tugs her back. Alright, Discount Gojo can wait, Fushiguro just made it to the top of her hitlist.

"Let me go- you crusty sea urchin-looking bastard!" She shrieks, struggling to break free. Fushiguro, used to her insults by now, merely blinks. "Kugisaki. They're the only chance we have of figuring out where we are right now. Control yourself," he hisses. "Or they could slit our throats!" she spits back, furious, but stops struggling.

He's right.

They're out in the middle of nowhere, with no idea if they're even still in Japan, surrounded by foreign cursed energy that she at this point isn't even is cursed energy, and their only source of information had held her at knifepoint.

She really should've stayed in bed today.

"Fine." She grinds out after a long moment. "Fucking, fine." Fushiguro lets her go reluctantly, and she slowly gets to her feet. She stares at him indecipherably, before taking a deep breath. She then socks him in the jaw, hard enough to bruise, maybe even knock out a tooth or two. He grunts, a thing of surprise and pain, before stumbling back a few feet. He glares at her darkly, rubbing his jaw. "Overkill much?" He grumbles to himself, and Nobara graciously pretends not to hear him.

"I believe introductions are in order?" Discount Gojo calls, reminding the two of his existence.

Honestly Nobara would've been content to continue referring to him and his minions as Discount Gojo and Disco Balls #1 and #2 respectively, but whatever.

"..."

"Fushiguro Megumi." Her classmate says after a moment of hesitation. "Kugisaki Nobara." She adds reluctantly at his insistent glare.

"I'm Uzumaki Naruto!" Disco Ball #1 grins, and his cursed energy somehow glows impossibly brighter.

Goddamn-

If this is what Gojo-sensei sees all the time she'll buy him some new sunglasses. And maybe some Ibuprofen. No wonder he walks around in that ugly blindfold, this is torture.

"Haruno Sakura." The other one with the pink hair says, eying them suspiciously. Well, at least someone here has some self-preservation instincts. Good for her. "And I'm Kakashi Hatake." Discount Gojo says. His tone is light enough, but there's something in his eye that looks assessing, calculating. He's testing them on something. "Is that name supposed to mean something to me?" Nobara asks flatly, and Hatake stares her down, still assessing, still looking for something, a reaction maybe, until he relents. "No, I suppose not." He says finally. This man and his supposing, God she wants to kill something.

Why's your chakra all weird?" Uzumaki blurts out, and Haruno immediately elbows him in the stomach.

"Naruto!" She chides, "you can't just ask someone why their chakra is weird, it's rude." But Pinky is obviously curious too, if her inquisitive side-eye is anything to go by. And chakra? Was that what this wrong cursed energy was? Or did they use a different dialect here? Wherever here was. She exchanges looks with Fushiguro, who seems to be thinking along the same lines as her.

"What do you mean, weird?" He asks finally, turning to Uzumaki, who's face scrunches up in a way that might've been adorable if she wasn't still contemplating the pros and cons of committing manslaughter.

"It's... Wrong." The kid says finally, which clears absolutely nothing up. Uzumaki flushes at her and Fushiguro's unimpressed stare and hastily continues. "I don't know! I'm not a sensor! You just feel wrong."

That still explains absolutely nothing. Although, if these people look like highlighters with their pure, bright 'chakra' to her, and she presumes Fushiguro too, she doesn't think she'll look too flattering with her cursed energy.

Emphasis on cursed.

"So, mind explaining what you're doing here?" Hatake asks mildly, his tone betraying nothing of the interested gleam in his singular eye.

"What's it to you?" Nobara snaps back immediately, and already she knows that she was too defensive, that she may has as well have straight-up admitted to whatever crime this man suspected her of. "Can't two teenagers go for a walk in the woods?" She continues unnecessarily. Hatake looks almost bemused now, the asshole.

"Not when there was a massive shockwave of chakra just above the two of you that felt remarkably similar your auras."

They'd felt Inumaki's portal? To be fair, it must've been hard not to, it had radiated power and a sense of wrong even back in the courtyard where she'd been mostly focusing on making sure that her idiot classmates didn't get themselves killed.

Hatake is still eying them expectantly, waiting for an explanation. Well too bad, Nobara is feeling distinctly uncharitable. Fushiguro can explain given how eager he is to make nice with these strangers. And explain he does. "There was a... training accident with our upperclassman." He says haltingly. "We got separated in the chaos and we landed here."

“Must've been some accident." Hatake muses blandly, prying for more.

"It was." Fushiguro responds, just as unbothered. He at least has the good sense not to give away more detail than absolutely necessary. There's an awkward silence as each party waits for the other to make the next move.

Uzumaki breaks first.

"So where are you from?" he asks, fidgety and bright-eyed. "I can't see your hitai-ate. You aren't missing-nin are you?"

Nobara blinks at him. Missing-nin? Hitai-ate? What the hell is this kid babbling on about.

"We're from Tokyo Jujutsu High." Fushiguro answers, the only non-personal answer he could really give to a nonsensical question like that.

Five baffled eyes stare at them.

"Where's Tokyo?" Haruno asks, smiling faux-politely in a way that sets Nobara’s teeth on edge. "I don't think I've heard of it before."

"Excuse me?" Nobara asks, more rhetorical than anything because it's the only thing she can think of to say. Because- how can they not know where Tokyo is?

Sure, they could be outside of Japan, and if that was the case she could simply chalk it up to ignorant foreigners, but they're all speaking perfect Japanese, so where are they if not Japan?

Something fucking weird is going on, and she's going to punch Inumaki-senpai when they find him for getting them into this mess into the first place.

"You... haven't heard of Tokyo?" She says slowly. The three shake their heads in unison, with varying levels of vigor. "Should we have?" Haruno asks, wincing apologetically.

"Where are we right now?" Nobara asks instead of answering Pinky Pie’s question.

"You're in Fire Country, just outside Konohagakure." Hatake says, like that explains anything, like that's a real place. She waits for elaboration, but there's none coming, so she counts to ten and determinedly doesn't bash everyone's skull in with her hammer.

Speaking of, she should probably put that away. She doesn't want to ruin this tentative truce that they've reached by giving into the urge to brutally whack everything in this stupid, nonsensical forest to death.

The ensuing silence is awkward as she pockets her weapon and both sides try and understand what the hell is going on.

"Can I pet your dog?" Uzumaki asks, oblivious to the tension and wow, he really has absolutely no impulse control, huh. Divine Dog has been sitting quietly for the most part, but he perks up now, tilting his head to the side. Fushiguro blinks once, then purses his lips. He looks like he's about to deny the kids request, but then-

"Sure." He grumbles, relenting, and Uzumaki lights up like a toddler in candy store, bolting at Divine Dog who only regards him indifferently. Nobara throws a look at Fushiguro, who shrugs like he isn't entirely sure why he let this stranger pet his dog either.

"How many of your classmates were involved with this accident?" Hatake asks, his eye never leaving Uzumaki like he's afraid Divine Dog will swallow the kid whole if he looks away for so much as a second. He doesn't actually look afraid, or even concerned, but Nobara is familiar enough with Gojo-sensei to recognize that kind of nonchalant, hidden worry. She wonders if Hatake is also a teacher. If Uzumaki and Haruno get into just as much trouble as she, Itadori and Fushiguro do-

"Two, maybe three more." Fushiguro answers- and that's right, Maki-senpai might've fallen in after them. She really hopes not, Maki shouldn't have to put up with the Land of Fire and its shiny chakra bullshit or whatever this damn place is called. She's already put up with enough of their shenanigan's.

"Mm. Could you tell me more about this accident?" Hatake asks, eye gleaming, and isn't that just a fucking loaded question.

Stupid ninja cosplayers.

"We're not sure what happened ourselves. It all just happened so fast." Nobara responds, half-lies half-honest, smile all saccharine sweetness and hidden thorns. She can't see it, but she's sure that Hatake is smiling back under that mask of his, just as sharp and deceiving as her own.

She doesn't like Hatake, she decides then. Something about him reminds her of Gojo-sensei at his worst, but at the same time Hatake is so indisputably, fundamentally different from her teacher that looking at him feels like staring into a distorted funhouse mirror while high on crayon fumes. (That had been an... interesting afternoon. She was never taking another mission in a circus again.)

There's also the fact that he'd threatened to slit her throat, which really doesn't help her opinion of him. at all.

"Of course." Hatake says, tone so falsely amicable that Nobara is glad she put her hammer away, because it sets all her hair on end. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind coming with us for some further questioning though. Is that alright?"

It's not a request, and they all know it, even Uzumaki who briefly looks up warily from his dedicated petting.

"Kakashi-sensei-" So this man is a teacher after all, "are you sure that's a-"

"Sure!" Nobara interrupts brightly, grin widening menacingly.

They need more information on this 'Land of Fire' place, and Nobara is fairly confident that she and Fushiguro would be able to overpower a bunch of exhausted kids and their bleeding, asshole of a teacher, sparkly cursed energy be damned.

Fushiguro stares at her for a moment, surprised by her easy compliance, but nods his assent. "Excellent." Hatake eye-smiles, and sets off at a brisk amble, expectation of their compliance palpable. Nobara bristles at the sheer fucking audacity of this man, but follows after him anyway. Divine Dog trails after them, much to Uzumaki's vocal disappointment.

His dismay doesn't last long however, and he soon latches onto Fushiguro and starts badgering him with rapid-fire questions that she has trouble keeping up with, much less actually understand. She can't help but snort at the overwhelmed look on her classmate’s face as he turns to her, silently begging for help.

She skips away merrily, leaving him to his misery, and joins up with Haruno. "So," She says, startling the kid who flinches minutely. "Why do you all look like you got into a fight with a feral cat and lost?" Haruno's expression shutters the moment the question leaves her mouth, and she looks away.

Her hair is a paler pink than Itadori's, more like the sakura blossoms she must've been named after, Nobara reflects absently as she waits for a response.

It never comes.

Rude. Or maybe Haruno had picked up on her barely suppressed murderous rage earlier and is smartly not sharing any potential weakness with a possible future enemy.

It only serves to reinforces Nobara's opinion that she must be the only one of the group with common sense, because no one resembling Gojo-sensei as much as Hatake does would ever be even remotely stable, or sane- or anything remotely close to un-traumatized- and Uzumaki is displaying a truly remarkable lack of survival instinct as he continues pestering an increasingly irate Fushiguro, who looks like he's regretting all of his choices that have led him to this moment.

Nobara's gaze is drawn back to the bobbing mop of pink hair in front of her, thoughts returning to the welfare of her friend with similar burnt-rose locks.

Itadori better be alive, or she's going to kill him herself.

End Notes:

Kakashi: Give me all your money if you want to live!

Yuuji: Bold of you to assume I have money! Megumi: Bold of you to assume I want to live. Nobara: Bold of you to assume that value my life over money. Gojo: Bold of you to assume that I can die.

Look. Is it out of character for Kakashi to attack a bunch of random kids? Maybe... However this man is PTSD, depression and co-dependence on (1) golden child staying alive, wrapped up into a bag and stuffed into a box.

I was originally going to put Itadori's chapter in here as well, but ultimately decided against it. So now you get two separate chapters!

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1: Bloodstained Ink (click!)

This Chapter: Chapter 2: Heights & Scarecrows (click!)

Next Chapter: Chapter 3: Snakes & Spirits Behind Locked Doors (click!)

Original Character List & Pinned Post (click!)

#nobara kugisaki #nobara #fushiguro #jjk fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen megumi #cursed techniques #kakashi hatake #kakashi #naruto uzumaki #naruto #sakura haruno #sakura #sakura is the only one with an ounce of common sense #world travel #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #Torn Pages

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