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redhoodieone · 4 years

Text

Wrong Number Part 2

A/N: Here’s Part 2! Uh…I don’t really know what to say other than…enjoy it! Hopefully, I can post Part 3 sometime next week.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, Text Message Nudes, and Mutual Masturbation.

I’m in complete shock. I know I’m frozen because I can’t literally take my eyes off the text message Jason sent to me. It’s clear; it’s in black and white, staring right at me.

Do you ever think we’ll meet each other?

He wants to meet me. Jason wants to meet me in person!

I want to text him back, but my mind is full of many ridiculous questions and the fears of Jason being a serial killer, or rapist, or just an insane Arkham escapee blows up in my head.

Before I knew it, I see the three bubbles on my screen.

I’m sorry. That was selfish of me to ask you that even though we’re still practically strangers to each other. Forget I asked, please?

My heart suddenly hurts like fuck. The pain I’m instantly feeling is very familiar. A broken heart?

It’s pure agony when I notice Jason texting me again.

I’m not going to be able to text tonight, sweetheart. I’m working late with my brothers. I’ll text you tomorrow. Have a good night. Sweet dreams.

I can’t believe I did this. How could I do this to a guy who’s been so funny, so sweet, and such a good friend in only just four days through text messages?

I seriously fucked up. And now I have no one to talk to until I fall asleep.

And as strange as it is, I only sleep well after I talk to him.

————————————————————————------------------------------

And true to his word, Jason texts me at five in the morning, only to let me know he made it home safe after working with his brothers.

We only spoke about our jobs once. He told me he works alongside police officers and tracks down criminals and helps brings justice to the city. He seemed almost hesitant to tell me and turned the conversation to me as if he doesn’t like talking about work. He made it clear that he would rather keep his work private, and I didn’t push him to tell me more. I didn’t want to ask a lot of questions, even if I’m sometimes curious about it, because I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable about it.

I had told him I’m a waitress at the local diner just a block away from GCPD, and how I’m a late-night writer who dreams of publishing my novel on love and loss. And after I confessed about the book I wrote to Jason, I noticed he was very enthusiastic about that and even told me he wants to read it.

And as the shy and insecure person that I am, I became embarrassed and said no.

That only fueled the fire between us. Jason went on to explain he loves to read. His favorite literature consists of Shakespeare (particularly Hamlet), George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm, and even poetry from Edgar Allen Poe.

He even went into depth of how The Tell-Tale Heart mirrors his own reflection of life and stuck with him during a depressing time in his life.

It wasn’t until after we shared our love for literature that I found myself falling for Jason. As ridiculous and insane as that sounds, I couldn’t help but feel as if he’s the missing piece in my life.

It’s as if he’s the words to my story.

Important, but very valuable to a writer.

I was basically on a high that had me grinning like an idiot, giggling like a moron, and jumping in my seat as my stomach twists and turns like a roller coaster, when Jason refused to take no for an answer after I said he couldn’t read my novel. He even said his dad has connections to businesses in Gotham and could even help me get it published.

As much as I would want that, I couldn’t help but feel that it seems too good to be true. What if his dad took my novel and publish it as his own? What if I get cheated out of a contract and didn’t get paid fairly like I should? What if it’s basically a soul-sucking scam to just fuck my entire life up?

Jason must have sensed my hesitation after that, because he then began to tell me about his brothers.

How his older brother Dick still treats him like a kid, even though Jason is taller and stronger than him.

How his younger brother Tim is a computer nerd and often geeks out over the oddest things.

And how his youngest brother Damian is really a demon spawn, who tries to be tough shit, but is really a soft teddy bear.

He even has a sassy but wise butler, Alfred, who frightens him and sometimes reminds him of Vito Corleone from The Godfather. But the older man loves Jason as much as his dad, Bruce.

The stories about Jason’s family are the best. I always find myself excited to see what he texts me about his family.

How he and his brothers fight over their dad’s car, how they wrestle and spar to see who’s the strongest one, and how whenever one’s in trouble, the other three are already finding ways to save or bail the troubled one out.

It all makes me feel good to know they’re a close family. Especially when my cold, harsh reality reminds me I don’t have a family.

My parents died when I was just fifteen years old. I was in the school library alone during afterhours; reading on a beanbag chair because I didn’t want to go home. At that particular time, my parents were hanging around a different crowd. A crowd that was into drugs and gambling, and possibly other illegal activities I don’t even know about.

So, I chose to stay in the school library that night, sitting in my favorite beanbag chair the librarian allows me to use, reading a favorite horror book, munching away on a hot pocket (a snack also from the librarian), and just enjoy the silence but comfortable environment I would call home.

Then I was told they died in a car accident, but after eavesdropping on Commissioner Gordon and the other cops, I heard there could have been a hit on them.

The car accident happened only a block away from our apartment.

The brakes were cut.

The car was burning too much oil.

The airbags were taken out.

Many noticeable factors couldn’t pinpoint the real crime. Eventually, they just called it a “car accident”, and everything fishy about the case was ignored and never brought up again.

I suffered and struggled a lot in foster homes until I turned 18. I didn’t have any other family members to get into contact with, so I had to make do with the foster care system. After being shipped to three unstable and cruel homes, the last family only dealt with me until I turned 18 and I was soon kicked out. I did get lucky enough to get a job at the diner I’m working at since the new manager needed a pretty young girl to serve the customers.

I even went to Gotham Community College for a year but dropped out when I couldn’t pass any math and science classes.

It was fucking hard.

Science was confusing as hell.

Math was just evil and useless.

I hated those classes so much.

I only passed my English classes because reading and writing only made sense to me.

I even took a creative writing class and poetry class only to discover I want to write.

I want to be a writer.

So, I dropped out of college and decided to work full time at the diner as a waitress. Since no one wants to live and work in Gotham, I’m lucky enough to work morning and night without any issues. As dangerous and scary Gotham can be, I have nowhere else to go, so that’s why I stay here.

Maybe that’s why I’m eager to meet Jason. After everything I’ve been through, maybe I do need a little unpredictability.

Chances.

Risks.

The more I consider meeting Jason, the more I can imagine him being my family.

Or being a part of his.

Maybe.

————————————————————————--------------------------------

“You’re not going to meet him, right???” Stacey raises her voice at me in sheer annoyance and panic. She crosses her arms and glares at me to answer her. “Right, Y/N???”

I sigh as softly as I can while wiping down the booths and tables for the night. In the midst of a battle, I find myself growling with irritation when I can’t wipe away the sticky maple syrup spills on the hard surface.

“He could be a fat, old man who picks up on teenage girls! He’s probably some 40-year-old loser who still lives on his mom’s basement playing Street Fighter with kids! What if he tricks you into meeting up in a hotel room and has his way with you? Then what, Y/N?! Does that sound like a good idea to you?!” Stacey snaps.

I exhale deeply and stand up straight; after leaning over the table to reach the opposite side for some time. Turning around, I face Stacey Patterson, a tall, petite, pretty blonde, fresh face girl straight out of high school. She’s a waitress like me, and after only working here for a year, we’ve become close friends; always looking after each other in dangerous Gotham City.

“I didn’t say I was going to meet him, Stacey. We’re just talking about it,” I answer timidly.

Despite being five years older than Stacey, she still intimidates the hell out of me. Whether it’s her 5’11 height, loud voice, or natural evil glare, I can never speak up or defend myself. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t take a stand.

Because what if I actually piss her off? What if she stops being my friend?

Because I don’t think I could live in Gotham and not have any friends and not know anyone.

Stacey is like my best friend, and her friends Amber and Holly hang out in our group. Stacey even says they’re my friends, too, even though I clearly know they only put up with me because of her.

And if Amber and Holly aren’t my friends, then I’ll just have Stacey. And if I don’t have Stacey, I’ll only have Jason.

And who knows if Jason is who he says he is, and if he’s even real.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You’re totally thinking about Jason! You’re thinking about meeting up with him because I could see it in your eyes!” Stacey declares. She waves her arms around to emphasize her point. “You like this guy! You have feelings for a guy you’ve never even met!”

“That is not true,” I argue weakly.

“Yes, it is! And we don’t even know if it’s a guy!”

“Jason is a guy, and I can tell!”

“Oh, really? How? Do tell.”

I stare at Stacey with a serious expression, except my cheeks are burning with embarrassment as usual. “He...comes off like a guy. I know he is. I can tell through his text messages,” I say.

“Anybody can sound like anyone through text messages. That’s how people catfish victims online!” Stacey argues.

“I’m a writer, Stacey. I just...have a feeling, okay? I know Jason says who he is, and I believe him,” I say strongly, as I push a lose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m doing this the smart way, too. When he and I decide when we should meet up, I’ll let you know. Maybe we can make it a group thing. I bring a friend. He brings a friend.”

Stacey sighs in defeat when she realizes I’m not backing down. She glances up at me with a stern face. “Fine. When you two decide when you’re both going to meet up, I’ll be there. I’ll be there to make sure he’s not on America’s Most Wanted, and to make sure he doesn’t try to lure you to his mom’s basement. BUT...you have to go on a date. A REAL date with a guy we both know, AND who could be good for you,” she states loudly and clearly.

“But Stacey-”

“Hey! Only until this Jason guy comes to Gotham and we meet him! Until then, I want you to give this guy a chance. A fair chance! For me...please???” Stacey pleads. She pouts and gives me her puppy dog eyes, which she knows I always give in to.

I’m too nice. Mom always said I was too nice, and that one day it’ll get me in trouble.

I’m still wondering when that’ll happen.

“Okay, I’ll give this guy a chance. I swear I will,” I promise and salute her. “But who’s the guy?”

Stacey grins in success and hugs me tightly. “Good! Because you’re like my sister, Y/N, and I just want to see you happy. You deserve it,” she says softly. “And it’s Chace. Remember him? He’s the drummer from, WakeHell. He moved in right next door to me, and I know you two will hit it off right!”

Chace????

Oh yeah. I know him.

He’s a total bad boy. A bad boy I don’t even think I could deal with.

I force a smile but then frown, because the only guy in my life who makes me happy is Jason.

Who I only text.

Who I haven’t even met.

————————————————————————---------------------------------

The next day is a lazy day since it’s my day off. I spent the majority of it sleeping, doing laundry, and just doing minor cleaning around my apartment until it’s 9:00 P.M.

And Cruel Intentions is on TV.

Lying on the couch with my second glass of Vodka Cranberry, I find myself really buzzed and horny. Ryan Phillippe back then was hot, and him making out with Reese Witherspoon is doing things to me.

My phone bings. It’s Jason.

What are you up to tonight, sweetheart?

Just a night in, a cup of glasses of vodka and cranberry, and Cruel Intentions is on TV.

I barely realize I’m buzzed and texting Jason. But my horny side doesn’t care.

I sorry I’m buzzed right now lol.

LOL no worries. I just came back from the bar with my brothers. We had a successful night and decided to get some drinks. We even had Tim and Damian use fake I.D’s.

I laugh and snort. Thank God no one heard me do that.

That’s good...we wouldn’t want Tim and Damian to be left out. They’re your baby brothers, Jay.

Jay? I really like it when you call me that. And I especially like you buzzed. LOL.

I like me buzzed too! I think I’m way more fun and free!

LOL!!! Exactly, princess!

I smile down at my phone. I love it when he calls me princess.

You said you’re watching Cruel Intentions? I just found it on TV. Wow...this movie’s old LOL.

Shut up!!! I find young Ryan Phillppe sexy in this movie!

You seriously find him sexy??? The guy’s a whiny brat! A pussy! Fuck, this movie woulda been sexier if we actually saw the douchebag eat out Cecile and saw him fuck Annette AND Kathryn!

I gasp out loud and giggle.

Then it would have been a porno! Not a movie! Hahaha!!!!

That’s fine with me, princess!

I softly whimper at just the thought of Jason watching porn. Closing my eyes, I imagine how he would sound, touch himself, and look when he’s pleasuring himself.

My eyes shoot open when I hear Sebastian telling Cecile he wants to kiss her…down there. I quickly turn my attention to the TV and watch the movie. Even though he takes advantage of a clueless, drunk girl in the movie, just the thought of him eating her out makes me clench my thighs.

It’s been too long. WAY TOO LONG!

The last guy I was seeing didn’t like to eat me out; claimed it was disgusting and unnecessary to do before sex.

As if sucking his dick was glamorous AND fun!

My thoughts are interrupted when Jason texts me.

You’re quiet tonight…does this scene turn you on???

The laughing emojis he texts me should hurt my feelings since I can easily be embarrassed over sexual things but…he’s right.

I’m turned on with just the thought of getting eaten out.

I boldly text Jack back. Unashamed and VERY buzzed.

You have no idea. Just imagining him eating me out, writing the alphabet with his tongue, and making me have an explosion is making me wet my panties right now.

I laugh to myself just seeing that Jason read my text message and is responding fast. The texting bubbles have never looked so good.

You’re…you’re wet right now????

Yes. Soooo fucking wet.

A surge of drunken confidence hits me, and I quickly shove off my pajama shorts until they’re on the floor. In just my white tank top and pink panties, I bravely slip my fingers into my damp panties and rub the wetness against my sensitive clit.

And with my other hand, I raise my cell phone and snap a picture of fingers in my wet panties.

And I send the picture to Jason.

I bite my lip in anticipation when I see he read my text message and saw my picture. The texting bubbles do not appear on the screen. He’s not texting me back.

Frowning, I wonder if I freaked Jason out. Maybe I crossed the line. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Maybe I’m just not sexy.

Suddenly, my phone beeps. Unlocking my cell phone screen, I see two text messages AND a picture.

Oh, fuck sweetheart…that’s fucking sexy. You’re fucking sexy…

Jason sends me a picture of him wearing his boxer briefs, and his hand holding his hard, thick cock, showing me the outline and shape of his boner.

Delicious. I can feel my pussy clench just from imagining Jason fucking me with his cock.

Fuck doll...you’re doing this to me.

I whimper pathetically and can’t help but continue to rub my clit and respond back. I can see my juices staining my panties.

Are you touching yourself too?

Fuck yeah. Just seeing your fingers playing with your wet, pretty pussy got me hard. I’m jacking off to your picture.

Would you want me like I want you?

Fuck yes, sweetheart. I probably want you more than you want me.

I slip a finger inside my pussy and moan. My thumb runs fast hard circles on my clit, and I’m soon pushing in two fingers. I’m fucking myself crazy, but I imagine Jason is finger fucking me because my fingers wouldn’t get me off so fast.

And his fingers are thick. His hands are fucking huge!

I bite my bottom lip. “Fuck...I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” I whisper to myself. I snap another picture of my fingers shoved in my pussy, and how I’ve gotten wetter. I send him the picture with the truth.

I need to cum so bad. I wish it was you touching me.

Yeah? What would you want me to do to you, doll?

Fuck that picture’s so hot.

I’d want you to finger me. Eat me out. Fuck me hard.

Jason sends me another picture of him stroking his cock but with his hand in his underwear. I can see a wet spot where his tip is; stained with his precum. I want a taste of it so badly.

Fuck I would baby. Your pussy looks so good enough to eat. I’d fucking eat you out until you can’t cum anymore. I bet you taste delicious.

Oh fuck…I’m so close. I want your cock so bad, Jay. You’re gonna make me cum…

Rub your clit harder baby. Fuck your pussy fast and hard with your fingers. Imagine they’re my fingers, baby. I’d fuck you so hard and deep.

I want to see your cum, okay? Take a picture of that pretty pussy and show me what I did to you.

I do what Jason says. Behind his words, I can feel his authority. Even though I can’t hear Jason’s voice, just reading his words makes me burst like fireworks. My thumb rubs my clit harder, and I crook my fingers just right until I push against my g-spot until I cum. My orgasm is intense, and I force myself to snap a picture of my soaked underwear and fingers. I sent it to him with a lazy smile.

My phone beeps. Jason sent me a picture of his thick, juicy, cum covering his abdominal muscles. I smile a little with pride.

Fuck that was hot, sweetheart. I needed that.

Me too. Now, I’m sleepy.

LOL, I’m tired too. Get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.

Okay…goodnight Jay.

I roll over onto my side and shut off the TV. Pulling my UGG throw blanket over my body, I snuggle up to fall asleep. My phone beeps again. Opening one eye, I reach over to read the text message.

Goodnight doll. Sweet dreams.

#dc comics #batman #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n smut #jason todd smut

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somedayonbroadway · 3 years

Note

hii it’s me again and im obsessed with the nerve au- i was wondering if you could do a sprace version, please?

Hi, love! Of course I can! Sorry, this is so late :)

Characters

Racetrack Higgins (@racer) — Vee

Spot Conlon (@kingofbrooklyn) — Ian

Jack Kelly — Tommy

Albert DaSilva (@redhotal) — Sydney

Kid Blink (@ublinked) — Ty

JoJo De La Guerra — Wes

Crutchie Morris — Liv

Oscar Morris — JP

Katherine Pulitzer — Hacker Kween

Okay so…

Race is a foster kid. For most of his life, the poor boy did his best to fade into the background, to be the perfect, adoptable child. He avoids risks, he keeps to himself and the few friends he has. He doesn’t want to lose a spot at the table. He doesn’t want to put himself out there. After all, his parents were everything he wasn’t. They’d had him young. They took risks. They went on adventures. And one day, they never came back.

Even after Race is placed in a good foster home, even after he meets his foster brothers and mother and feels like he’s part of a family, he’s still scared to step outside of his bubble of comfort even though his brothers were a bit more social. Race was adopted right before he started high school. He was fourteen. Jack was fifteen and Specs was seventeen.

Three years later, they were hit by a drunk driver. Specs didn’t make it.

Race’s senior year wasn’t quite the same after that.

Race wants to travel. He wants to go to culinary school in Italy. So he applies. And he gets in. But he doesn’t accept the application. He’s terrified to leave Medda and Jack alone without Spencer. The pain hasn’t quite faded yet.

After seeing the acceptance letter, Race sets it aside before school and goes online instead, stalking a boy online that he’s had a crush on for years. Oscar Delancey. Jack thinks he’s a jerk. Race thinks he’s misunderstood.

That’s when his best friend FaceTimes him. Albert DaSilva has been Race’s best friend since he was first taken into Medda’s place and he is always looking for some extra attention. Race doesn’t mind so much, but sometimes it can get exhausting.

Albert tells Race to stop stalking Oscar on Instagram and, instead, sign up to watch Albert play Nerve, an online game where people get dared and have to perform those dares for their “watchers” for money and fame. Race scoffs at the game and tells Albert that it sounds ridiculous before he leaves for school.

Jack drives him. Race tries to tell him about Italy, but he chickens out. Instead, he goes to school where Albert gets his first dare.

Race’s other friends, Crutchie and JoJo record Albert on his own phone as he runs across the football field during a rally, buck naked. To no one's surprise Albert is suspended later that day. Despite this, while out for milkshakes after school, Albert informs Race that he will still be playing Nerve in hopes of becoming famous.

Jack, who meets the other kids at the restaurant, tells Albert he’s being ridiculous. This causes Albert to turn the tables on Race and tell him he could never be a player on Nerve and then all of his friends vote on a date for him with Jack being the only no. They dare him to talk to Oscar, a simple task that will just push him slightly out of his comfort zone. Race chickens out.

So Albert does it for him, only for Oscar to tell him that he’s not interested in Race. Race stands and storms out and Jack stops Albert from following him, telling him that he just hurt his little brother and better think about what he’s doing next time before Jack decides to punch in the nose.

Race rushes back home where he finds that he never closed the Nerve window on his computer. He watches the video on his screen where he finds out the rules of the game. There’s only three:

1. all dares must be recorded on the player's phone

2. any earned money will be revoked if a player fails or bails on a dare

3. "snitches get stitches."

It’s sketchy as hell but Race has a point to prove. When the question comes up “Watcher or Player,” against all of the boy’s instincts, he makes a decision. Player.

Race is running down the stairs when Jack gets home. He has his first dare. He needs Jack to drive him to Jacobi’s Diner. Jack does, because Race asked him to. That doesn’t stop Jack from giving Race a lecture on how stupid he’s being. Still, Race is determined to prove he isn’t a coward.

His dare is to kiss a stranger for five seconds. Jack records it for him as they eventually find someone reading a book that Specs had read to him once when he was going through an insomnia spell. To The Lighthouse. Race kisses the other boy for a lot longer than he had to and eventually stumbles away says “thank you!” and runs back to Jack.

Jack tells him that he needs to quit now after Race gets one hundred dollars for playing the game. Race almost concedes before he hears someone singing. The boy he’d just kissed walks over to him and sings to him, asking him to run away with him.

Jack realizes it’s a dare and tries to pull Race up and out of the diner, but the boy sits with them and tells him that some kid brought him that book and told him to sit and wait. Jack comments that it sounds like he responds well to puppy commands and starts calling him Spot. Spot doesn’t correct him.

Another dare comes. The watchers want Race and Spot to run away together, run away to the center of the city. Jack tries to stop them. But Race didn’t know how much he was longing for an adventure until that moment.

Race rides with Spot on his motorcycle to a very expensive store in the center of Manhattan where Spot goes in before him and Race is dared to try on a very expensive suit that he looked very good in. He changes on camera. Jack watches him, terrified to look away as he tries to follow him and stop him from getting himself killed. Apparently some kid died in Santa Fe playing Nerve.

Race doesn’t listen to his warnings and continues to take dares with Spot until they are dared to leave the store after their clothes have been stolen. Race says he won’t shoplift, but Spot is insistent. So Race comes up with a compromise.

They run out of the store in nothing but their underwear. Their watchers get a kick out of it. One of them even buys them the clothes they tried on, letting them keep them.

Jack decides he’s watched for long enough and calls someone for help. A dear friend of his. Okay, it’s his girlfriend, and maybe she’s a little older than him, but hey, who’s keeping track? He asks her for access to the dark web and she reluctantly gives it to him. When he has access, he finds all he can on Spot, previously known as Sean Conlon, a kid who played the game in Santa Fe.

He doesn’t seem like an upstanding citizen.

Albert is trying his best to get into the top ten, to win the whole game, but his watchers won’t give him any real dares. He’s out with Crutchie and JoJo when they find out that Race is playing the game. Albert is shocked and a bit jealous at how fast Race is moving up in the game.

Becoming a pair in this game, Race is dared to get a tattoo of Spot’s choosing and, though terrified of getting a tattoo at the wrath of his mother, accepts the dare and lets Spot calm him down with some music while he gets the thing, to later find out that it’s a lighthouse, for To The Lighthouse. After Race manages to complete this dare, the watchers move forward with a dare for Spot. He has to get to sixty miles per hour on his motorcycle while blindfolded.

Race almost bails on him because of it, because he’s terrified, but Spot manages to convince him to help and Race guides him while they get to sixty in five minutes. They barely make it and then they almost crash, and then they kiss, feeling invincible.

Jack can hardly watch, fearing his little brother might die and then his mother calls, asking why the hell money is being deposited into Race’s account and where it’s coming from, so Jack has to deal with that while he’s still trying to look for his brother.

Spot takes Race to a carousel. They mess around on it while Race tells Spot about Specs, about how Specs was fearless, about how Specs pushed him to do things he would’ve never done otherwise. Spot tells him it’s a shame he never met him. He thinks they would’ve gotten along. Race agrees with him before Albert tries calling him.

Albert has been at a party with the rest of their friends. They’re all watching Race play Nerve live on a big screen. He sees Race reject his call. He hears Race call him annoying, frustrating, attention demanding. It hurts. And everyone else gets to hear it too.

Spot suggests they go to the party that Albert’s at to show everyone that he’s not who they thought, to show people that he got a tattoo and his own opinions. However, when they get there, they find that Albert has bailed on a dare after the watchers found out he was scared of heights. He nearly fell from a ladder suspended above ten stories.

He’s pissed that his best friend wasn’t there to talk him out of it. This sparks an argument between Race and Albert. Race eventually tells Albert to sign up and watch him from now on if he wants to know where he is. Then he accepts his next dare, to finish Albert’s. He walks across the ladder only to be met with his big brother who tells him that Spot set him up, that he took a dare to get him to the party to fight with Albert. Race shoves him away and finds Spot, demanding to know if that’s true.

Spot pulls him into the elevator and tries to explain. But Race won’t let him. He’s had enough. He runs out of the building. He finds a cop and tries to tell him about Nerve. He needs someone to shut it down. But he gets distracted by a call from his mother, telling him that everything they had was gone, that their savings had been drained and photos were showing up on her and Jack’s social media page that shouldn’t be. Before Race can respond, he’s knocked out cold by a player who has been around the whole time, someone Race suspected Spot knew.

When he wakes up, he finds himself in a metal cage with the words “Snitches get Stitches” scrawled out on the walls. A computer lights up and tells Race that he is now their prisoner. A prisoner of the game. A flash of Jack comes across the screen. Then one of Albert. Terrified, Race tries to break out only for Spot to show up and pick the lock for him.

Spot explains to Race that he’s a prisoner of Nerve too and that the watchers control his whole life, and not just that, they control his family’s life. His sisters and his mother too. The only money they get is money the watchers give them after they messed with his mom’s job and his sisters’ futures have been destroyed. He explains that they’re going to give Race an impossible dare and that they sent Spot here after him to finish it for him if he can’t.

Down the hall, muffled voices are heard and Race walks into a new room to find Jack and Albert tied up and gagged on chairs and a gun sitting in between them. He’s dared to choose who lives and who dies.

Race is obviously scared and refuses to choose, trying to bail, but Spot stops him, telling him that if he bails, he’ll be a prisoner until the game comes around again. He has to win to get out. So Race takes the gun and aims it at his own head, causing the watchers to tell him to stop. They need someone to control. So Race stops and Spot unties the other boys and helps them out finding a secluded parking lot to drop them off before he rushes off to complete his next dare, trying to make sure he was the one in the finals with Race instead of Blink, the other boy who he was made prisoner with after going to the cops when their friend died playing the game.

Spot takes the same dare that got his friend killed, hanging one handed from a construction crane. He manages to do it, putting himself in the finals.

Jack, Race and Albert pull together and form a plan, calling some backup in and going to The Cloud, a place Katherine often hangs out. He asks her and her hacker friends to try and gain control of the boys controlling the game and she does. Jack takes Albert there after Albert makes a call at a pay phone. They try to hack the game while Jack gets a call from his panicking mother whom he tells to meet him at The Cloud.

Race goes to the finals and is given another gun. When he sees Spot across this mysterious arena, he tries to run to him, having fallen for him over the course of all of these insane events, but the watchers tell them to stop and take their marks. The first to shoot their opponent wins.

Spot tells Race to shoot him in the shoulder. Race almost complies, but shoots the ground, telling him that he can’t do this. He tries to walk away but someone from the crowd says that he’ll take the challenge instead.

Blink jumps into the arena.

Medda gets to The Cloud just in time to watch the whole thing.

The watchers vote for Blink to shoot Race. And he does.

Medda can’t fathom the fact that she’s lost another child.

But Jack just tells Katherine to blow it up as Race falls into Spot’s arms.

Spot begs him to wake up as the anonymous players phones reveal their real names and tell them their accessories to murder. Everyone begins to sign off.

Spot cries over Race, completely horrified and tries to shoot Blink before Race shoots up in his arms, telling him that he was alright, that it was all fake. So Spot hugs him and begs him to never do that again.

But he’s so happy that he’s finally free.

Race immediately calls Jack and Medda and they cry together. So Spot takes him to them.

Jack and Medda encourage Race to go to Italy and Spot and him end up in a committed relationship. Albert and Race makeup and Jack is still overprotective as ever and they heal from the loss of Specs and are able to actually love on.

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

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aj-illustrated · 3 years

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*pulls up a 97-slide PowerPoint* I’m so glad you asked

Ben is an OC co-owned by me and @finnoky! The short of it is that he’s an orphan who Varian helps save from a life of crime, and who later gets adopted by Quirin!

More about him under the cut:

Age: About 12

Birthday: He has no idea, but thinks it might have been sometime in the autumn.

Likes: Quirin, Varian, farmwork, tending to the sheep, his dog (Achilles), the Challenge of the Brave (spectating and later competing), adventure stories, head pats, strawberries, friendly roughhousing, drawing

Dislikes: Cramped spaces (he’s claustrophobic), people hugging him, carrots, books with complicated words, cold weather, any kind of tight or scratchy clothing

Fun Facts:

Ben meets Varian about nine months after the end of the series.

He’s good friends with Kiera and Catalina! They’re the only kids his age who can beat him in a fair fight.

He eventually grows to be taller than Varian, and absolutely uses that fact to tease him.

He’s an excellent pickpocket, though he hasn’t stolen much of anything since Quirin took him in.

He’s got a knack for drawing— he’s not too good with words, so he finds it easier to express himself with pictures. He’s also a leftie!

He’s been almost adopted several times, but Quirin is the only foster parent who kept him around for longer than a month.

Backstory: Ben is an orphan who’s been given a raw deal in life, and as a result is kinda pissed off at everyone and everything all the time. The orphanage he grew up in was lacking to say the least, and he spent much of his early childhood being routinely abused and neglected, often lashing out in aggression at those he deemed to be a threat (which was most people). He eventually starts getting into trouble with the law and is tossed in prison for multiple counts of petty theft and assault, and it’s around that time that he meets Varian, who is helping to reform Corona’s prison system and is disgusted to see that they’re still punishing children as if they were adults.

He gets Ben out of prison, but the orphanage refuses to let him come back, so Varian convinces Quirin to take him in. Quirin agrees for a few factors: 1. Ben reminds him of Varian when he was going through a rough time, and how Quirin wasn’t able to help him then, 2. He’s not getting any younger and could use some help around the farm (plus Varian has been worried about him getting lonely, now that Varian has basically moved into the castle), and 3. The kid deserves a shot at having a healthy, stable home life.

Ben only agrees to go live with Quirin because trying to survive on the streets is no picnic, and also because he’d really rather not stay in prison for any longer than he has to. He figures that it won’t last, anyway— Quirin will lose patience with him and kick him to the curb, just like every other foster parent/guardian he’s been handed off to. He gets very confused (and a little annoyed) when Quirin turns out to be incredibly patient and willing to give him as many chances as he needs. In response, Ben acts out and does everything he can think of to convince Quirin that he’s rotten to the core, but nothing works.

Ben doesn’t want to get his hopes up or let himself get attached. He manages to annoy everyone else: the other villagers, Varian, even Eugene (who visits sometimes), but never Quirin. The most he ever gets out of him is an irritated sigh.

Throughout all of this, Ben is also finding out that he kinda likes helping out on the farm, and he’s pretty good at it, too. He’s very strong for his age, and a fast learner.... except for one thing: he can’t read. The orphanage had tried to teach him, but it never really clicked and they had long since given up on him, so he just never learned, instead relying on pictures and context clues to figure out the meaning of written words. As he continues to grow more attached to Quirin, he starts wanting to be better, to deserve the love and acceptance Quirin is offering him, so his self-consciousness about reading (among other things he doesn’t like about himself) really starts to bug him.

While he's sociable and generally gets along with other children, he does have the flaw of a short temper. So when he's targeted and called out for his apparent lack of academic intelligence, things get ugly, fast, and he gets in a fight. When Quirin asks later what it was about, Ben is reluctant to tell him, and is even less enthused when Quirin later suggests enrolling him in school.

He eventually admits to Quirin that he’s illiterate, expecting to get belittled or even compared to Varian (who is an actual genius and is kind of intimidating to Ben). But Quirin.... he doesn’t care that Ben can’t read, and even offers to help teach him or find him a tutor if he wants to learn. It’s after letting himself be vulnerable and accepting Quirin’s help that Ben starts to wonder if maybe... maybe he has a shot at being part of a real family.

He starts to let himself feel at home in Old Corona, thinking (or rather hoping) he’s found somewhere he belongs... as much as he hates to admit it, he really likes it here. So he tries to keep on the straight and narrow so he can stay longer, even making an effort to be nicer to Varian (who is more than happy to help him with his reading and is the one to introduce him to the Flynn Rider series). For the first time, Ben’s future is looking bright.

Until he loses his temper again.

On a visit to the capital, he passes by his old orphanage and gets in an argument with one of the kids he used to know (and wasn’t on particularly good terms with). The argument quickly gets personal, and then physical, and Ben takes it way too far— by the time the guards arrive on the scene to break it up, the kid Ben was fighting is a bloody, mangled mess, about a minute away from passing out. The guards don’t care what awful things that kid said to Ben; all they care about is that this boy with a history of violence and petty crime just savagely attacked another child, and Ben is swiftly arrested and taken to the dungeons.

At this point, Ben has cooled down enough to realize just how serious his situation really is. Even if they let him out of prison to go back to Quirin, he’s sure this is the last straw and that Quirin won’t want anything to do with him— he’s violent and dangerous, and no matter what he does he can’t seem to stay out of trouble, even when he really does try his best to be good. He hates himself for blowing his one chance at finding a home and family, and consoles himself by thinking that it was only a matter of time and at least the wait is over (boy’s got some raging self-loathing issues if you haven’t noticed).

Varian gets word that Ben’s been arrested and heads down to the dungeons to hear his side of the story, but Ben is too ashamed to even look him in the eye. Ben was told by the guards that, although he won’t be left to rot in the dungeons or thrown onto a prison barge (as per the new regulations regarding juvenile justice), he’ll be sent away to a correctional facility for delinquents— aka, reform school. Ben has no idea what to expect, but based on what the guards have been saying about it (very loudly, just outside his cell), it sounds no better than regular prison.

Varian is having absolutely none of this and contacts Quirin to tell him what’s going on— Quirin is up at the castle within the hour to try and bail Ben out, or at least renegotiate his sentence. However, since Quirin is not yet technically related to Ben— for the past year or so, he’s legally been closer to a parole officer than anything else— the law states that he can’t actually do much to interfere with Ben’s bail or sentence, especially since the boy is a repeat offender and is now classified as a menace to society.

Instead of giving up on the situation, Quirin decides to become Ben’s legal guardian right then and there, whipping out the adoption papers he’s been keeping in his vest for weeks— he’s been wanting to ask Ben if he’d like to be adopted for a while now, but he could never find the right moment. Now seems to be as good a time as any.

It takes a day or two to sort things out (Nigel and Fred both aren’t too keen on releasing a violent criminal for any reason, even if that criminal is like twelve), but Varian is able to pull some strings with Raps and Eugene to give Quirin full guardianship over Ben. Meanwhile, Ben is expecting he'll be shipped off any day now— when he sees Varian come back down to the prison with a guard, he expects it's to say goodbye... not to remove his shackles and lead him back upstairs to the throne room, where Quirin and Rapunzel are waiting beside a stack of paperwork. They only need one more signature to make the adoption official: Ben’s.

Luckily, Varian and Quirin have been helping him practice writing his name, and once he signs, Quirin tosses Raps the bail money (which she had whittled down to like two coins) and they head back home— Ben’s permanent home.

Ben’s story is a result of many many rambles between me and Feen on Discord, and I don’t think we’re gonna be stopping anytime soon— Ben is such a fun OC to flesh out XD

Feen and I are actually running a Q&A for Ben over on Feen’s Instagram story, y’all should go check it out!

#ben #tangled oc #tangled the series #tts ocs #varian #quirin #long post #AJ draws #AJ talks #finnoky

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 4 years

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I need you part 4

I really liked writing this story. I have always had a soft spot for Nick ever since he came to SVU. Enjoy loves xx

Sonny started to grow on you as time went by. He was funny, cleaver, ready to work and he loved feeding you guys. He was no Nick, but at least you could handle him till Nick was back. Nick was bailed out by an old friend, IAB and 1PP took his Detective badge and put him back on the beat till he proved he could come back to SVU.

The case that had come in the day Nick was arrested, linked to a case that was opened not long before you started, it was a big one, and the squad was in over their heads. Due to the case, Liv was concerned for you and Amanda because these pimps played dirty and really could Fin and Sonny protect you both.

Nick was asked by Liv, after she ran it by Tucker to go undercover as a dirty cop. Rafael wasn’t happy you were on the case, it was going to be brutal and he wanted you away from it. Nick was reporting back to you guys and he was planting things to a pimp he was working with. You and Amanda walked in to arrest Nick and the pimp during a set up conflict after a string of murders and shootings happened, one involving Noah, Liv's new foster son.

Once the pimp knew Nick was under cover, it was game on. You were all standing in Liv's office, Nick got his badge back once he was cleared by Tucker, after the undercover.

"I want Y/N off the case and away from the station" Nick said

"Excuse me?" You snarled back

"I couldn't agree more" Rafael said

"I tend to agree" Liv piped up

"Wait, what?" You looked at Liv shocked she was going against you.

"These guys are going to play dirty" Nick walked over to you grabbing your shoulders to make you look at him, he could tell your blood was boiling and you were going to blow, "They are going to come after me for pay back. And if they can't get to me, they will go after the things I love the most. Maria and Zara will be safe, they are with her parents, and I've told my mum and sister to go and stay with my Aunty in Miami till this blows over. That leaves you in the firing line. I let you walk into Lewis arms, I'm not doing that again, these guys could kill you because of me."

“I’m not a kid" you spat back

“No one is saying that Y/N, we want you safe" Liv said softly

“So I have to sit at home like a good girl while all this goes down" no one answered you or could look at you in the eye

"You will stay at my place" Rafael said shyly not sure what your reaction was going to be.

You were overly pissed. You stormed out of the office, and headed over to your gun locker to lock your gun away. If they were going to treat you like a child, you were going to act like one.

"Fin, Carisi, take her back to her’s, stay with her while she pack's and then take her to Rafael’s. I’ll make sure uniform is the around your building at all times Raf. Make sure no one follows you and if they do, you know the steps that need to be taken ."

You grabbed your bag from under your desk and went to walk towards the lift when Fin walked out and grabbed your arm,

“You need to relax, it's for your own good" you looked at him with his eye brows raised at you and you holding back your tears and trying not to blow up at the same time.

“I don't want to have to come to your funeral." That's when it sunk in the weight of what was going on.

“Carisi and I will take you back to your place so you can pack the stuff you need and then we will take you to Barba's, you better pack for a while."

You didn't say bye to anyone, not even Rafael, and you headed to get the lift followed by Fin and Sonny.

2 hours later you were back at Rafael’s. You had packed enough for a month, plus a couple of work outfits just in case. You grabbed some books you had been wanting to read but hadn't had a chance, and some of your favourite DVD's. You messaged Rafael when you settled in;

2.30pm-Y/N: I'm at your place, SAFE! Enjoy the rest of your WORKING day

2.40pm- Rafael: Don't be like that Hermosa, I'll be home when I can, I'm glad you’re safe

You didn't reply, you turned on the TV and settled in, this was going be your life for a while.

Nick kept calling over and over, but you refused to pick up the phone. One reason, you were a little embarrassed how you reacted, but everyone backed you in corner and two, what he didn't think you could look after yourself.

Your phone buzzed, it was a new message,

2.50pm-Nick: Answer your phone NOW Y/N

The phone started to ring again

"What do you want Nick? You know I'm safe Fin and Carisi would have told you that by now"

"You know why I did this right?"

"Not really no." You did, you knew full well, but you were just acting like a brat

"I'm protecting everything that is valuable to me that can't be replaced. It was actually the first thing me and that boyfriend of yours agreed on, can you believe that? You mean more to me then you will ever know, you’re my best friend and my partner, you need to be kept safe, and I need you. Please don't be mad at me"

Your paused for a moment "OK fine" you huffed, it meant a lot to you what he just said. Nick never spoke about his feelings, so to have him open up to you like that, which wasn’t often, meant a lot. "When this is all over you owe me dinner and drinks, I'm picking the place and you’re paying" he laughed

“No worries partner. You call me any time day or night and I am there. We will get these guys put away as soon as we can so you can come back, I miss having you around"

“Stay safe Nick, don't do anything stupid! I need you".

Rafael came home just after dark, he didn't know what mood he was going to be walking into. As soon as he opened the door an amazing smell hit his nose. He walked in taking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of the couch. You were in the kitchen, you just stood up from putting something in the oven.

"Hermosa, it smells amazing", he walked over to you and kiss you lightly on the lips.

"I'm sorry Rafi, about before in Liv's office and about the message, you all ganged up on me, I felt betrayed" you paused "but I've claimed down, and Nick clear things up for me, I sent Liv a message saying sorry, so I'm good. I packed enough for a month. I won't go out, I won't order in and if I need anything I'll get you to get it for me on your way home or ask someone from the squad to get it for me." He looked into your eyes and kissed you deeply.

"I know, it hurt you, it hurt me seeing how much it upset you. Nick and I agreed, for once," he rolled his eyes "that it was for the best. Liv wasn't happy about it at first but we made her see the big picture, with Fin and Amanda's help she was on board. You’re a good Detective, but we all need you safe. I was lucky to get you back last time, I never want to have to go through that again, and this time, it would be more likely that I wouldn't get you back at all"

You looked up and he had tears in his eyes, you wiped them away and kissed him softly on both cheeks.

"Dinner is going to be ready in 10 minutes, I have put some cloths in the bathroom, go and shower and dinner will be ready when you come out and I'll make you a drink."

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alternatewarning · 4 years

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Music Box Carousel - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 6 and 8 for Whumptober 2020: "Stop, please” and Abandoned / Isolation

Title: Music Box Carousel Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: None Rating: T Trigger Warnings: Child neglect, fat shaming, bullying Summary: It was just a normal day at elementary school for Prompto: some name-calling, bullying, losing his lunch, and wondering why on Eos his life sucks so much.

Cross posted to Ao3

“Come on, hand over your lunch. You clearly don’t need it~” The group of four boys laughed, the one in front holding out his hand. Prompto tried to take a step back; they had already backed him into a corner, nothing to save him but the quiet stretch of an empty school hallway. Everyone was in their classrooms or at the store getting snacks so he had to either hand over his food or hope that a teacher came and bailed him out. The leader, Prompto couldn’t remember his name since he was one grade up but pretty much everyone knew him as the school bully, seemed to be losing his patience.

“Come on fatso, hurry up. What are you dumb too? Give. Me. Your. Lunch. Or else I’ll beat you up.” His outstretched hand turned into a fist as he stepped towards the blond. Prompto looked down at the bag in his hand. He liked the green curry bento but it wasn’t worth getting beat up. Plus, they would probably smash his glasses and he needed those. Slowly he held out his convenience store bag and they took it with a smirk.

“Good boy~ You’re going to give me your lunch tomorrow too, right? And something not so gross. Curry, really? Buy me some good bread and milk. See you tomorrow!” The group laughed as they walked to their classroom, letting Prompto slowly slide down the wall that his back had been pressed against. His heart was thudding in his chest. He needed to fight back but he knew it would be hopeless, why bother?

By the end of the school day, Prompto felt like he was starving. His lunch had been taken away and his money to get dinner had been in the same bag. Which meant he was going home with nothing, no lunch, no dinner, and no snack. His stomach grumbled unhappily as he got his bag ready to go home. Maybe if he just didn’t think about it, it would be fine.

The entire way home all he could think about was how hungry he was. He passed by his favorite fast food joint and it smelled like heaven. But the coins he fished out of his pockets weren't even enough for a drink. With a heavy sigh, he turned the corner to keep walking home, his stomach gurgling again at the whiff of food. Prompto was so focused on the ground at his feet that he didn’t notice anyone in front of him until he literally walked headfirst into another body. He let out a small yelp as he fell back, partially in shock and partially because whoever he’d walked into too shoved his shoulders.

“Why’d you tell on me?!” Prompto adjusted his glasses to see the group of four from before. But now they were a whole lot angrier.

“Wha-what are you talking about?” He blinked up at the boys as he tried to stutter out an apology. “I'm sorry but I didn’t tell anyone, I promise.” Maybe a teacher had seen them take his lunch?

“Shut up you freak!” One of the boys rushed forward and kicked Prompto in the gut, knocking him down on his back. They were in an ally between the fast-food restaurant and a side street that most people didn’t use during the day, there was no one to see them.

“You tattled on us and now we’re in trouble. It’s your fault! If you weren’t so shy and fat we wouldn’t have taken anything from you!” Another kick connected with the blond who decided that even if he tried to run it would be pointless. There were four of them and one of him and at least two he knew were on the soccer team. So instead he just curled up as much as he could, using his arms to protect his face.

“I’m sorry, stop, please! I never told anybody!” He shrieked in between grunts as all four boys circled around him and started to kick. At first, it seemed like they were just trying to get out their anger and maybe that was okay. If they kicked him now then tomorrow maybe they would leave him alone. But as they kept going they weren’t calming down. Instead, it felt like they were starting to kick harder.

“Please! Stop, please! It hurts…” One of the boys nailed him in the back so hard that he fell forward, hitting his chin on the pavement. Since now he was on his stomach he pulled up his arms to cover his face. The kicking changed to stomping, sneakers slamming into his back over and over. No matter how much Prompto screamed or told them he hadn’t spoken to anyone, it didn’t stop. Eventually, the four seemed to tire, giving a few more good kicks to his ribs, before moving on in silence. He waited on the pavement, waiting to hear them coming back.

After what felt like an eternity he opened his eyes, his vision blurry. Huh? He blinked a few more times before realizing that his glasses had skidded across the ground and were now lying against the wall of the alley. It probably happened when he was kicked to the ground. Slowly he forced himself to his knees, his body stiff and sore. He felt like they’d kicked or stepped on every inch of his body from his fingers to his back to his toes. He managed to crawl over to his glasses, dirty but unharmed, before putting them on. The world was now marred by specks of dirt and gravel but at least he could see.

After another few minutes just sitting on the ground to recover, Prompto collected himself enough to go home. It wouldn’t hurt any less at home and then he could take a shower and cry. For a moment he hoped that his foster parents weren’t home but then he just sighed. There was no reason to hope for something that he knew would be true.

The rest of the walk home was fortunately uneventful, the streets empty of passersby, and anyone that did see him didn’t even ask if he was okay. Maybe it was better this way. When he reached his house there was a letter on the table. Before he even picked it up, the blond knew what it would say. His parents were called out for business. Again. They would be gone for a few weeks. Again. There was money for his food in the envelope on the table. Again. Be good. He didn’t even read the letter this time, opting to just check the envelope to see how much they left. That was usually the indication of how long they would be gone.

There was a lot more than usual in there. For a brief moment, he wondered if they were leaving for good. It wasn’t as if they had any reason to come back. One foster kid they didn’t really care about, a tiny house that looked like it had never been furnished beyond the necessities. That was it. That was their life in Insomnia. Loneliness started to bubble up in his chest. This happened all the time, them leaving for work somewhere else, anywhere else. But this time he really wished they hadn’t.

He wanted to crawl into someone’s arms and cry. He wanted there to be someone to tell him that it was okay, that he wasn’t alone, that it would get better. But instead, he sat in an empty kitchen with nothing more than a hastily typed letter and a pile of money. There was no one there to hug him and pet his hair like he saw on TV sometimes. Maybe parents like that didn’t really exist. But he wished they did.

After sitting at the empty table long enough for the sun to go down, the blond finally forced himself to stand. Everything hurt even worse than it did before, his pain buoyed in his chest by the heavy weight of an emotion he didn’t want to name. He knew what it was, loneliness, isolation, feeling like the only people that were supposed to care about him abandoned him. But if he gave into that emotion then he knew there was no coming back. So instead he just nodded to himself with a huff. He needed to clean up and go to bed. Tomorrow was another day.

#whumptober2020 #fic #no.6 #no.8 #“Stop please”#abandoned #isolation #Final Fantasy XV #FFXV #child neglect tw #bullying tw #fat shaming tw #Prompto Argentum #Didn't have time to edit this one

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bisexualalexclaremontdiaz · 4 years

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The Magpie And Her Bandit: Chapter 3

Wow this took forever didn’t it? I started it a while back but then completely forgot about it! So sorry! This one is in Maggie’s POV and is SUPER short. Like, 900 words. Sorry, again, I know, I suck! Other Chapters

Maggie leaped over the fence, landing on the ground as gracefully as any gymnast. She ran from the park, purposely keeping her pace slightly slow so that Max, who she knew was running after her, could follow. She wondered why Mrs. Mallard was at Cosmopolis Park when it seemed so irregular for her to do so. Did she know that Maggie took her necklace? How could she have seen? Maggie was always careful and made it away uncaught almost every time. Besides, if she had seen Maggie take it, why didn’t she go to the police? Why did the old lady come after her herself? These questions swirled around in her mind and she hadn’t noticed she had stopped running until Max came up behind her.

“We aren’t done talking about this?” he said, slightly out of breath.

Maggie raised a brow, “The only thing we need to talk about is your lack of stamina.”

“This isn’t a joke, Mags,” he said concernedly, “You said that you would stop stealing.”

“I said I’d try to stop stealing,” she said, as the two of them walked back towards Max’s house, “And I did. For about two months”

He gave her a disappointed look that broke her heart. She sighed.

“I really did try,” She muttered, crossing her arms defensively.

His eyes softened. “Yeah, I know.”

“It’s just,” she starts, “I always needed to steal to survive. My parents were killed and my sister abandoned me. I didn’t have anyone to look after me and the foster houses I was put in weren’t exactly five-star hotels. The parents often neglected and abused us.”

Tears started to well in her eyes, “I remember when one of the kids came out, our foster parents wouldn’t give him food for days at a time. I would have to steal food or valuables to sell off just so that he could survive. I was lucky. I ran away when I was only 8 and the Renegades saved me. I didn’t have to endure the terrible torture others had to. But even those few years were enough to teach me what I needed to do to survive.”

She felt the tears drip down her face and she felt ashamed. Ashamed of letting her emotions show. Ashamed of being naive enough to think that this wasn’t what life was. Ashamed that, even after all these years, she was still the scared little girl who didn’t have anyone to look after her.

“Oh, Maggie,” Max whispered, “I knew the foster homes were bad, but I never imagined…” He trailed off.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that.” he said sympathetically, “And I’m sorry you felt as though you had to hide it.”

“I wasn’t hiding it,” she said truthfully, “I just don’t like reliving those moments.”

Abruptly, she wiped her tears and laughed. “What a drama fest, huh?” she tried to school her face into indifference, “Sorry to dump tha-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Max enveloped her into a hug.

“Don’t ever think that you are burdening me with your problems.”

She smiled and hugged him back. “You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, Maxie.”

He suddenly broke away from her, his face slightly red.

“Yeah,” he said, looking a bit disappointed, “Your best friend.”

Maggie was confused. Weren’t they just being so open with each other? Now he was back to his strange behaviour? I was hoping things were finally going back to normal, Maggie thought sadly.

“Hey, Max,” she started, “Can we talk about your weir-”

Suddenly, she saw something that made her heart started to beat fast. “Max, we have to go now.” She grabbed his hand and started to walk quickly in the opposite direction of his house. Her instincts told her to run, but she didn’t want to seem too conspicuous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.” she said, not wanting to panic him, “Just that car seems a bit familiar.”

“What car?” He began to turn his head but Maggie pulled him back.

“Don’t be so obvious!” She said under her breath, as though someone may be listening, “I just saw it about two blocks back. I think it may be following us.”

“What?!” He exclaimed.

“Not so loud!” She began to walk faster. “We just have to be a bit careful about our next move.”

Max bit his lip. “I think we should head to the police.”

“No.” She said firmly. Maggie didn’t like the police all that much. The few times she was caught stealing brought her straight to the police station, so it was certain that there was no love lost between them. “If they see us heading towards the police they’ll bail and head straight to your house. Who knows what they’d do to your dads?”

“But, they wouldn’t know where I lived right?”

“To be honest, they could.” Maggie said apologetically, “You’re Max Everhart, you’re not exactly low-key.” After the supernova, Max became a bit of a hero. He didn’t love the spotlight, but he got his fair share of it anyways. Interviews, photographs, fan clubs, all things that came with his fame. Thankfully, the commotion died down after a while as people started to settle in this new era.

“Ugh, I told Hugh that magazines were a bad idea!” He said, “So why do you think they’re following us?”

Maggie turned onto an emptier street.

“We’re about to find out.”

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

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Crackdown Ch. 4

Chapter 4: Where Loyalties Lie

Summary: The heroes get to sit down with Yan, Bim, and Illinois and find that Dark and Wilford probably weren’t the terrible parents they thought they were.

A/N: It’s done. I’m done. Hope you guys enjoy it, it was a beast to write.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

While the first half of their operation went almost uncannily easily. The second part wasn’t. Almost all the heroes had initially thought that living with a murderous demonic mobster and a murder happy madman would have counted as a horrible traumatic incident that they would have been happy to get away from.

They were wrong, apparently all three of them had glowing things to say about both parents.

Patton was in with Abe and Jackie, trying to get information out of Yan. King immediately cut them off from talking to Yan when she started crying and wanting to call Wil. She did get to call him but the Host reassured the heroes that they weren’t going to get anything out of her.

Bing was in talking to Bim, Oliver watching the building for security. “Come dude, you killed them, just admit it.”

“What part about I want my fucking lawyer don’t you understand?” Bim shouted back.

King was standing outside the room with his head in his hand. “Nice to see he hasn’t changed.”

“Was he like this when you were kids?” Silver asked.

“Yeah, he was always a bit of a spoiled brat,” King frowned. “Wil pretty much gave him anything he wanted, and for a while he was an only kid and was always kinda an attention whore.”

“Sounds like hell,” Silver commented. “Why’d Dark and Wil get five more kids if they could barely handle one?”

“Don’t know,” King shrugged. “Dark told us a story once about Bim being taken once and how we didn’t have to talk to other kids because statistically we had to like at least one of our siblings. Personally I think he was just a bit of a control freak.”

“Is that why you left?” Silver asked.

King sighed, “You know, Dark’s a piece of shit boss and I hated working for him, but he wasn’t actually a bad dad, never let me take the work home even if I wanted to.”

Silver just looked at him, “Did he get kids just to work in the Network?”

“No,” King corrected firmly. “For a long time we weren’t allowed to even ask about what he did. We knew he worked in his office from home or at the warehouses, and that was it. Hell, Dark didn’t even allow us to watch Wil’s show, you know, because he killed people on it.”

“Then how’d you wind up working for him?” Silver asked.

“It kinda just happened,” King answered. “Artie and Illinois started getting interested and I tagged along with Illy a lot, so when he started pestering Dark, I joined in and Dark suddenly found he had a vacancy as an assistant, not that that job existed before I asked him. He hated the idea of someone else with their hands on his work.”

“He treated you guys good, right?” Silver asked. “Never seemed like the type of guy to be a caring father.”

“He and Wil were miles and leagues better than the foster homes I’d been in before,” King answered, before looking away. “I’m getting some coffee.”

King walked over, as Bing was coming out of the room.

“Ok, so the little dude totally lawyered up and we’re at a standstill,” Bing said. “Dude’s obviously been coached on how ta talk when he’s arrested but I think we’ve enough ta go somewhere. He’s acting a bit off, I think he might be on somethin’ but we need more ta be able ta do a drug test, and e’en then it might come back a false positive because ‘a Wil.”

“You know how they’re doing with the third little boy scout?”

“Marv was goin’ on an’ on about brainwashin’ so who know how that’s going,” Bing threw his hands up and shrugged. “I’m gonna check on Ollie, see if Googs is givin’ him any trouble.”

Silver found Amy standing outside the second interrogation room, Yan had been in that room but after her failed questioning she’d been put in her cell and Illy was moved in instead.

“How’s it going?” Mark asked, watching an arguing match.

“Probably shouldn’t have let Marvin’s talk to him,” Amy sighed.

“We know he was doin’ magic on yeh?” Marvin argued.

“You get off your high horse!” Illinois shouted back.

“Where’s Eric?” Silver asked.

“With Ollie,” Amy frowned, “Eric not talking to anyone except for him and King, he sure isn’t talking to Abe or Marvin.”

“Yep, tapping in,” Silver decided, walking in. “Marv—”

“You all can shove it,” Illinois decided, continuing to escalate the situation. “I don’t care if Artie and Kay are working with you, I don’t care whatever teen rebellion phase they’re in, I don’t care if you call me crazy and lock me up in the same cell as Yancy. None of you cared when Kay and I were being bounced between places, no one cared about us except for Dark. I am living the life I dreamed about and thought I’d never get as a kid. I get to travel the world and go to all these amazing places.”

“Dark is a demon who manipulates people,” Marvin reminded.

“I’m not crazy and Dark is not forcing me into living in the Manor, it’s my home, and I am not lying and saying that the person who took me in and protected me was an abusive monster, because he wasn’t!”

Illinois angrily sat down, “You fuckers want anything else, you can talk to my lawyer.”

After that, Illinois seemed to calm down enough and they had to move him back to his cell, it was Wilford’s anti-magic cell. So because there was one cell, all three of the siblings were in there, Bim sitting on the cot, and Yan in the chair as Illinois walked around and studied the cell.

“This is so stupid, why are we even still here?” Bim’s faint aura was curled around him like a coat that was two sizes too big for him. Yan was poking at it inquisitively, making Bim swat at her hands. “Stop that.”

“It’s cool,” Yan smiled, not listening to him. “It’s like the Old Man’s. How long have you had that?”

“Dad has an aura too, you know,” Bim put his foot in-between her and his aura.

“Wil’s aura isn’t grey,” Illinois reminded.

Bim glared at Illinois, “You got something to say against Dad?”

“Not to your Dad, we need to get out of here,” Illinois reminded coldly.

“Yeah, whatever,” Bim grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Then all three of them went quiet and Illinois was thankful for the moment to think.

“Hey, Ills?” Bim started, his tone different.

“What?” Illinois took a self-calming breath.

“This a bad time to mention I’m hungry?” Bim admitted.

Illinois resisted the urge to bang his head on the bars, “What type?”

“The other one,” Bim replied.

“How bad?” Illinois turned to look at him, the younger brother still looked human which was good.

“A five,” Bim offered. “It was a two before they started messing with my aura.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll get you someone when we get out of here,” Illinois promised, despite wanting to bang his head against the bars and scream in frustration.

Anything else Illinois and Bim might have continued to talk about was stalled when the Host walked in, his bandages more than a bit stained with blood.

“Can we help you?” Bim asked, his tone more than a bit hostile, and his attention laser focused on the man’s blood.

Illinois had been studying the newcomer and some things stuck out. The long coat and bloody bandages, a sharp smile. Things that had plagued Arthur’s dreams as abstract and dark nightmares he’d confided in Illy before he ran away one day, and a figure that was stalking the young author’s mind. But there was something familiar about the person in front of him. “Author?”

“The Author is dead, the Host reawoke in his body,” the Host explained. “He encountered an enemy of the Entity’s that he should not have tried to fight alone.”

Yan stiffened as if she’d been shot or hit.

Bim chuckled a bit nervously, “Nah, come on, this asshole’s lying, there’s no way Artie’s actually dead, he was a tough piece ‘a shit.”

“As much as he would have appreciated such a barbed compliment,” the Host smiled, “the Author cannot come back. The Host is what remains.”

“So Host,” Illinois stayed between Host and his other two siblings. “You working with the heroes.”

“Yes,” Host answered. “He has been helping to keep the Entity out of the heroes’ base.”

“Why?” Illinois demanded.

“Because the Host has a conscious and no hero worship of the Entity,” the Host answered. “Unlike the Author or Illinois.”

“You here to gloat, then?” Illinois asked.

“Partially,” Host reassured, “however the main reason the Host is here now is to pass along a message from the Entity.”

“Really?” Illinois said in disbelief.

The Host gave a big smile, “Yes, the Host had the ability to speak and make a deal with the Entity from massacring the city’s police department in actuality instead of merely daydreaming about doing so.”

“So what’s the message then?” Yan asked.

“Three hours,” the Host told the three young enforcers.

“What?” Yan asked as Illinois didn’t dare break eye contact with the Host.

“The Entity will post bail for Illinois, Bim, and Yan,” the Host commented, “in exactly three hours from the time he made the deal with the Host. So the three siblings now have two hours and forty-five minutes.”

“You asshole,” Illinois spat, turning to gently nudge Yan off her chair. “Tell him we’ll do it in under one.”

The Host smiled, “The Host wishes them the best of luck. The heroes will not let them escape so easily.”

Turning, the Host left, his narrations following him out,

“Three hours?” Bim grumbled to Illinois. “Great, you’re not letting us take that are you?”

Illinois tapped the chair a couple times before slamming it onto the ground and breaking it into pieces, “You shouldn’t want to take it.”

The older enforcer handed a chair each to both Yan and Bim. Bim looked at it with disgust. “I want my knife.”

“We’ll worry about getting your knife after we get out of this cell,” he promised and then took the fourth chair leg and waited for a guard to come back into their cell to guard them before throwing the sharp piece of metal at him.

Silver was staring out towards the parking lot. Dark was standing out there, anyone who had attempted to approach him had been attacked. Now he was just out there, occasionally glancing at his watch. Oliver has nervously reported that Google was in the area before hiding behind Bing, but Silver hadn’t spotted him yet.

Eric was waiting by the door, glaring at Marvin who was readying one of the spikes that Chase had tried to use on Dark earlier.

“Okay so I know the first one didn’t work, but this one should do the trick,” Marvin smiled.

“Host said he won’t attack,” Silver reminded, still staring at Dark.

“Right, trust a demon, sounds like a great idea,” Marvin rolled his eyes, before looking at Eric. “Hey kid, yah know one ‘a his kids, anythin’ we should be aware ‘a?”

Eric’s glare became angrier.

“Hey, Marv, maybe you shouldn’t bring up the boyfriend,” Silver offered.

“His boyfriend’s an international criminal,” Marvin reminded.

“G-Go to hell!” Eric shouted at him.

“Eh, it’s a borin’ place,” Marvin dismissed. “Let me at Damien, I’ll pry Dark off of him.”

“At least wait until he attacks,” Silver ordered. “We need all the help we can get, including the element of surprise.”

The three of them stopped when they heard a scream from deeper into the station. Their communicators crackled to life.

“Fookin’ shite!” Chase yelled at someone on his side of the communicator. “He’s not fookin’ human, stop him.”

“Average, the hell’s goin’ on?” Marvin demanded.

“They’re escaping, an’ I think I know where Bim’s victims have been going,” Chase answered.

“Guard the door,” Silver told Marvin. “Anybody got eyes on them?”

“They’re headed your way, Silv,” Amy reported.

Sure enough Silver could see Illinois walking down the hallway, dusting off his hat.

“Illy!” Eric shouted in excitement.

“Hey, dulcito,” Illinois winked, pulling out what looked like a solid white baton from inside his hat, “you mind stepping away from them, I don’t want you hit on accident.”

“You need to go back to your cell,” Silver corrected, watching Yan and Bim walk over. The real concern was Bim, who had blood running down his chin and staining his suit, his pupils blown wide open and his suit a bit ripped up.

“You hit the one to the left, and I’ll stomp your ankle in,” Illinois threatened Bim.

“No promises,” Bim grinned, way too many sharp teeth to be anything close to human.

“Fine,” Illinois grumbled.

“How’d yah get out ‘a that cell?” Marvin demanded.

“It’s calibrated for Wil, not us,” Illinois answered. “Sorry about the mess we might have made of the place.

“Well I’ve been wanting to try out some new spells,” Marvin said.

Bim stiffened and arched his back, collapsing as he was jolted with a TASER round from Chase’s gun. Chase was bleeding from the head above his eye and his right arm was ripped and bleeding.

“Put that gobshite in a fookin’ straight jacket!” Chase ordered. “An’ a muzzle.”

Bim literally growled out, and Illinois was pulling the studs out as Silver rushed over.

“Come on, come on,” Illinois screwed his eyes shut and ducked.

When he ducked down, Chase pulled the trigger again, but his attention slipped at that second from Illinois to Silver and as a result Silver wound up with a TASER found right in the dead center of his face. It didn’t do any real damage, merely stunning the flying hero.

Silver screamed and Illinois shouted, “Run!”

Bim tried to run for the only person in the vicinity who was bleeding, but Illinois tugged him towards the door.

“No, we’re so close,” Illinois shouted. Bim hissed at him.

“Yer not goin’ anywhere,” Marvin told them, summoning up one of his giant playing card. Yan summoned her katana and dropped into a stance.

“Heads or tails?” Illinois shouted, flipping up a coin into the air.

“What?” Marvin asked in confusion, before just firing as much magic that he could at them, trying to trap them in place.

“Tails!” Illinois called out quickly. The magic beam hit the coin and magically redirected, wrapping around Marvin and the force throwing him out the window.

“Out!” Illinois was dumping what looked like rainbow colored chalk dust in a line on the ground. Silver slammed into some kind of a barrier made by the dust.

Yan was vaulting herself out the window and gasped in joy when she saw Dark.

Illinois breathed in relief when Bim had enough self control to jump through the window instead of attacking Eric.

Right before Illinois could jump through himself, he was grabbed and Eric slammed him into the wall.

“Hey, sweetie,” Illinois smiled at him.

“C-an’t just l-et you three l-leave,” Eric shrugged.

“Ahh, dulcito, you could have just asked for a goodbye kiss,” Illinois smiled, the two of them kissing before Illinois pulled out something that looked like a caulk gun and when he fired it, it shot out a glob of glue that stuck Eric to the wall.

“Illy!” Eric shouted in indignation.

“Sorry sweetheart, I know you got a job and all, and you’re going to be pissed when you find out what Bim did.”

Illinois jumped out the window and smiled at Marvin who was cursing violently.

“Nothing personal,” Illinois smiled. “We tried not to hurt your friends too much.”

“Fook yeh, yah right bastard,” Marvin spat.

Illinois tipped his hat and walked over to Dark, who was mostly ignoring Bim, who was yelling at Dark.

“Time,” Dark announced, looking at his watch as Illinois stopped in front of him. “Forty-five minutes.”

“We do good?” Yan smiled.

“If you were out here, why didn’t you come in to help?” Bim demanded.

“And what would you three have learned?” Dark commented dryly, before finally getting a good look at Bim. “Ahh, you must be hungry.”

“Obviously!” Bim shouted.

Wilford popped into existence, “Am I early?”

He gasped and hugged Yan, “How’d you enjoy your time, princess?”

“I stabbed a man,” Yan smiled, holding her katana up.

The madman laughed, “What about you, Junior?”

“I hated it,” Bim decided it,

“Maybe that will teach you why you need to be careful,” Dark was checking Illinois over as the Host walked out of the station.

“And everything worked out as promised,” the Host smiled.

“I kept my end of the bargain, are they here or not?” Dark growled.

“The Entity must not kidnap the King of the Squirrels or Yancy, unless they want to leave with him,” the Host warned.

“King of the—? Has Kay been the raving lunatic running around the park?” Dark thought on that for a couple seconds, “Fine, but if anything dangerous happens I’ll be forced to protect them how I see fit.”

“The heroes only think the Entity and Wilford are threats,” the Host reminded. “If the Entity will wait and listen, the heroes will not attack.”

Dark was quiet for a couple seconds before nodded, “We need to be quick, your brother is hungry and we’re all overdue to eat actual food.”

The Host nodded, the first thing he did was to help Marvin free himself, Dark summoning Damien’s cane so he would have something to do with his hands. Marvin was always glaring at Dark and Illinois in pure fury.

“Yah know yer kids’ are a pile of shite?” Marvin spat.

“Well there’s no need to be such a poor sport because they came prepared,” Dark smiled, proudly patting Illinois on the shoulder.

Dark became immediately distracted when Silver walked out with King and Yancy, Yancy looking more nervous than King. Something that seemed to make all the other heroes nervous in kind.

“I’ve heard you took over the park?” Dark asked King.

“I did,” King answered. “So stay the hell out of my park, Old Man.”

“Consider it your territory,” Dark promised, “now that I know that it’s yours and not one of those heroes.”

“I am one of the heroes, and I’d appreciate you treating me like one,” King insisted.

“I refuse to plan a way to kill you, full stop,” Dark refused. “The heroes do not deserve you.”

“Well I think they’re great and if you gave them a chance you might like some of them,” King responded.

“Come on, Darky,” Wil smiled, appearing behind King and Yancy, wrapping his arms around them. Both of them reflexively smiled at him. “Don’t they look like they’re having fun. They’re out here living life.”

“Hey, dad, nice to see you again,” King told Wil, rolled his eyes.

“Are they treating you right?” Dark demanded.

“Yeah, I like it there,” King insisted.

“And you would come home if that changed, right?” Dark demanded.

“Yes,” King promised.

“I’d go back ta prison,” Yancy answered.

“Over the Warden’s dead body,” Dark dismissed immediately, Yancy glaring at him.

“Speaking of which, you never talk about how you came into my care,” Dark reminded. “I thought we weren’t mentioning it.”

“We aren’t,” Yancy reminded sharply, but looked more that a bit confused. “I’s only told them about my other folks, not how I’s got ta youse guys.”

Dark looked thoughtful at that, leaning on his cane. “Interesting.”

He turned to look at Bim, “I think I know exactly what to pick up for you Bim. If you’ll be a little patient.”

“As long as I get someone’s heart by the end of it,” Bim hissed.

“Oh don’t worry, you will, we’ve got quite the nasty little mole in my network,” Dark said and opened up a tear in the Void. Wil dove in with Yan, Illinois and Bim following after him.

“I’m very hesitantly trusting you,” Dark reminded the Host. “Don’t let anything happen to them.”

“The Host would not let anything happen to them,” the Host promised.

Dark then turned to the other heroes. “Next time you arrest one of them again, I won’t be so patient.”

“You shouldn’t have raised wanton murderers then,” Silver spat back.

“I’m gonna find a way to banish you,” Marvin promised Dark.

Dark smiled, stepping backwards into the Void, it sent him to a slightly different location than the rest of his family so he could take care of Bim’s newest craving.

And clean house in the process.

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mystical-flute · 4 years

Text

Home Is Wherever I’m With You (Ch. 2)

AO3 || Ko-fi

“Okay Miss Swan, what brings you here today?”

“I… just don’t feel good,” Emma said, biting her lip nervously. “I’ve felt nauseous and been throwing up. I thought it was food poisoning from all the fried foods I ate last week but… it hasn’t stopped and my breasts are starting to ache and I’m just - tired! I’m supposed to be on vacation and - ”

The doctor held up her hand, smiling softly. “Okay, I see the picture. Emma, what was the date of your last period?”

Emma froze, feeling the color drain from her face.

Oh, no.

“Um. J - January.”

The doctor gave her a kind smile. “Right, Emma… I’m going to ask you to take a pregnancy test. It may be a virus, but I just want to cover all of my bases.”

Emma’s throat had gone dry, but she managed to nod, following a nurse to the bathroom and looking at the stick in her hand.

Pregnant. She might be pregnant.

She’d gotten sex ed in school. She knew she needed to be careful with sex. Neal had managed to find condoms (had one broken?), so protection had been a thing. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But it had.

Emma felt numb when the doctor confirmed the pregnancy, handing her a sheet with her positive test result and doctors in the area, and warning signs to watch out for if things started going wrong. None of it felt real. Yes, she and Neal had come into the $20,000, but that was dwindling the more time they spent here - they still were living out of a hotel! They hadn’t made it to Tallahassee yet, found jobs, or anything! They couldn’t have a baby now - right?

What did she know about being a mother, anyway? All of the mothers she’d ever had in her life either gave her up or tried to kill her. She couldn’t be a mother. Not yet - maybe not ever… even if the little voice in her head was telling her maybe this could work out. Maybe this would be different. After all, they’d promised each other a new start when they’d fenced the watches. Was this a part of that new start?

Emma trudged up the one flight of stairs back to the hotel room (the elevator kept making her nauseous) and exhaled slowly, unlocking the door.

“Neal?”

“Emma! There you are! I have news -” he trailed off when he took in the look on her face. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I just have some news myself. But you go first.”

Neal was grinning as he spoke. “I looked at the case against me in Washington and realized the statute of limitations runs out in three days . After that, I can’t be legally charged with the crime anymore, even if I’m stopped. They waited too long to contact the cops!”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Wh - but - that’s amazing! You’re sure that’s real?”

“I triple checked and even called an attorney advertising free advice to double check again!” Neal said, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. “We’re in the clear babe!”

She squeaked, laughing as she gripped him tight. “Wow! I never thought… Neal this is the best news I’ve ever heard!”

“Really? What about your news?” he asked, setting her back down on the ground and frowning slightly. “You okay?”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them or think of anything sappy to say to ease him into the news.

Neal’s face paled. “You - what? You’re - ” he stared at her face, then down at her stomach, then back up at her face. “We’re gonna have a kid?”

“I don’t know, Neal… we don’t have a place to live, we have the $20k, but we don’t have jobs to keep building up our money, and neither of us had good role models for parents. Can we really have a kid now?” she asked, staring up into his eyes.

Neal took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. “I know. You never had a stable home and my stability ended when I was thirteen. But I also know that we’re turning over new leaves - no more stealing. No more sleeping in the Bug. No more digging around in dumpsters for food. If we can do all of that, we can stick it to our terrible role models and be the best parents a kid has ever seen.”

Emma giggled, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “You do make a compelling argument. And they do have books out there on parenting. And this time, we won’t just abandon our kid on the side of a highway, or make them feel like they have to run away. But… are you sure you want this?”

“What I really want is you. No matter how or when or where,” Neal replied, leaning in to give her a kiss.

Finally, they made it to Tallahassee. Emma found a job as a secretary, while Neal settled into a career as a landscaper. Their apartment was small - two bedrooms and filled comfortably with used furniture they’d found at a thrift store (minus the mattresses for their bed and the crib - they were happy to pay full price for those), but it was eclectic. Cozy. Completely and totally theirs.

For once in her life, the urge to run was gone, and Emma Swan truly felt like she was at home.

Eight months later, the sounds of a newborn’s cry filled the air. Neal was at her side, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You did it, Emma…” he breathed against her skin, his cheeks wet from happy tears.

“Congratulations Miss Swan, Mr. Cassidy, it’s a boy!” the nurse announced, approaching with the wriggly blue bundle in her arms.

Emma reached up with still-shaking hands, carefully adjusting him at the nurse’s coaxing, and smiled. “Oh wow… hi baby… I’m your mom…” she shifted him slightly again so he was facing Neal, “and that’s your dad. And while we don’t exactly know what we’re doing, just know that you are so loved, and we’ll do everything we can to protect you and make you happy.”

The little boy blinked, yawned, and fell asleep in her arms, content. It took Emma all she had to not break down in tears. A son. Their son. Their tiny, perfect son with ten fingers, ten toes, and all the trust that they’d keep their promise to keep him safe.

“Sorry to interrupt… but have you decided on a name for him?” the nurse asked quietly, smiling at the little family.

“Henry,” Neal said. “Henry Axel Swan-Cass - ”

“Just Cassidy,” Emma said, looking up at him, then at the nurse. “Henry Axel Cassidy.”

Neal frowned when the nurse left the room after checking Emma’s vitals. “I thought you said you wanted him to have Swan in his name…”

Emma shifted, handing Henry to Neal and leaning back against the pillows. “I did too, until I looked at him and realized… I don’t want to build a future with that name. I chose it because it reminded me of my first foster family, that almost that could have been… and I didn’t want Henry to be stuck with an almost. I wanted him to have your name because of the promise you and I made together, and to him. That we’d always be there. That he’d always be safe…”

Neal smiled, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “I think it sounds perfect. Welcome to the world, Henry. We’re all going to be in for a hell of a ride…”

A ride it was, and before Emma knew it, Henry was two years old, and Neal had changed from landscaping to photography, having discovered a passion for it. He worked at a magazine trying to boost tourism to Tallahassee, while Emma found a new career as a bail bondsperson. The career changes meant they could afford new stuff, better stuff. Stuff Emma had never dreamed she would own.

“Hey, Neal? Have you seen Henry’s other shoe?!” Emma called. “We’re going to be late for our dinner reservation!”

“It’s in here, Emma! He insisted on trying to dress himself and didn’t realize there were two!” Neal replied from Henry’s bedroom.

Emma’s heels clicked as quietly as she could against the hardwood floors of the apartment, Henry’s shoe dangling from her finger, stopping in her tracks when she saw what Henry was wearing. It wasn’t the shirt - no, it was just a normal t-shirt, but the words on it had her heart beating fast against her chest.

Mommy, will you marry Daddy?

Behind Henry was Neal, on his knee with a ring.

Henry’s shoe dropped from her finger, her hand going to her mouth. “Yes…” she managed to whisper. “Of course I will.”

Neal grinned, sliding the ring onto her finger. “Great, now that’s settled, we can get Henry to Cleo’s and celebrate.”

Emma laughed, carefully tying Henry’s shoes and lifting him into her arms. “You did a very good job helping Daddy surprise me,” she told him, kissing his head. “But now you’re gonna go spend some time with Miss Cleo, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” Henry said, hugging her. “Mommy, are you happy?”

“I’m very happy, baby. You and Daddy make me the happiest I’ve ever been,” she replied as Neal grabbed his bag and the family made their way down to the second floor of the building, where their trusty babysitter was waiting.

Cleo was the one that got her into the business of bail bonding. They’d been introduced by a woman at the clinic Emma had once worked for, and she’d offered to help her find information on her parents. Nothing had come up, but Cleo had taken her under her wing, and Emma found she was one of the only people she could trust. Plus, she adored Henry, and he adored her in return.

“So you finally did it, huh Neal?” Cleo greeted, taking in Henry’s shirt and the ring on Emma’s finger. Congratulations you two.”

“Thanks, Cleo… we might be a bit later than we originally thought, is that okay?” Emma asked with a small frown.

“Of course it is. You two lovebirds take all the time you need. Henry and I’ll be here.”

They married on New Year’s Eve, at a beach a couple of hours from Tallahassee, and rented out a room at a local bar for their few guests. Burgers and hot dogs, onion rings and fries and a cake made by the bar staff just for them. They watched the ball drop in New York on the bar’s television with Henry curled up, asleep between them.

“Happy New Year, Mr. Cassidy,” she whispered, carefully clicking her glass against his.

“Happy New Year, Mrs. Cassidy.”

Boston, 2011

“So today at art camp, Jason mixed up the nacho cheese sauce, a glob of pizza sauce and Tina’s leftover chocolate milk, and then drank it !” Henry explained over dinner on a chilly July night.

“Okay, well, I don’t think I’m hungry anymore. Ready to head back to the apartment now?” Neal asked with a playful grin, putting his napkin down on the table and making a motion to stand up.

“Dad, come on, you didn’t have to walk him to the nurse after lunch. I could tell you that story too!”

“I think I’m good, thanks buddy.”

The ensuing years had brought them to Boston, where Neal had gotten a job working for a national travel magazine, and Emma had moved on to private investigation rather than finding people who’d jumped bail. Henry was a thriving ten year old with a wild imagination, and wild friends that encouraged it.

It warmed Emma’s heart to see that his life was so much happier than her own had been prior to meeting Neal. He had two parents who loved him, friends who cared for him, good grades.

A small part of Emma wished her own wayward parents could see their grandson and how he was thriving, and how she’d risen from the ashes of their abandonment.

The rest of her didn’t give a damn about those people anymore and knew they were all better off without them.

“Stop! Thief!” a shout suddenly came from the kitchen. Emma was on her feet immediately, following the sound of the cry.

“What happened?”

“That damn teenage hooligan sneaked in here and stole a bunch of food again!” the chef cried, his face already beet red with anger.

Emma’s heart sank. It hadn’t been that long ago that she was the teenage hooligan stealing food from restaurants or grocery stores.

“How much money was it worth?” she asked, pulling out her credit card. “You know what, never mind. Put it on my bill. I’ll be right back.”

Swiftly, Emma made her way out the side entrance and down the alleyway, where she heard a dog barking and a girl laughing.

Bingo.

“Enjoying a full-course meal, are you?” she asked, leaning against the brick wall and raising a brow at the girl with the large pizza in her hand. The dog was chewing a carrot as if it were a bone.

“Who the hell are you?” the girl snapped, narrowing her eyes.

“Emma. Who are you?”

“I’m not telling you. You’ll go to the cops!”

“Technically I should, since you stole a bunch of food from the restaurant,” Emma said with a shrug. “But I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. Tired, hungry, desperate. Unsure of where or when you’ll eat next. Worried about what your friend here is going to eat next…”

Emma had never traveled with a dog before, but she’d been around enough people in her life to know that people loved them as much, or more than, themselves.

The teenager shuffled, looking down. “Right. But so what if you understand? If you aren’t going to call the cops, you’ll just call the social worker.”

“I should do that too, unless you give me a good enough reason as to why I shouldn’t.”

The girl looked panicked. “Because I can’t go back to that house!”

Emma’s eyes widened in alarm. “Okay then,” she forced herself to say calmly. “You can come stay with me for the time being.”

“What?”

Emma nodded. “Like I said, I was like you. I can’t leave you here on your own now that I know you’re here. You’ll be safer with a roof over your head.”

“You - you aren’t gonna kick me out because of Snoopy?”

Emma shook her head, sending a quick text to Neal to have he and Henry meet her outside with their leftovers. “I’ll cough up the $500 pet fee.”

The girl hesitated for another moment, before nodding, grabbing the food and a small bag she had and rising to her feet. “Come on, Snoopy…” she said softly.

“Emma! Where are you?!”

“Who was that?!”

“My husband. He’s a former street kid too. He’s probably got our son with him,” Emma explained, wrapping an arm around her and guiding her in the direction of Neal’s yell. Snoopy followed, the half-eaten carrot dangling from his mouth.

“Mom! Did you find the thief?” Henry asked with a wide grin, before frowning as he noticed the girl.

“Henry, Neal this is uh - ”

“Audrey,” the girl finally said, barely meeting Neal and Henry’s gazes. “And this is Snoopy.”

Henry was sold immediately at the sight of the dog, bending down to give Snoopy pets and scratches.

“I invited Audrey to stay with us for a while,” Emma said.

Neal’s look changed from confusion to understanding in a second. “Of course. C’mon kids, let’s get home.”

That night, after Audrey and Snoopy were settled into bed, both freshly bathed and Audrey in a borrowed pair of Emma’s pajamas, Emma knew what they had to do.

“I’m contacting the social worker tomorrow and getting her transferred to our care,” she said as she hung her leather jacket in the closet. “I don’t care what it’s going to take.”

“Agreed. She seems like a good kid. I can’t stand the thought of putting her back out on the streets,” Neal said solemnly. “Henry seems to like her too, with how long they played on the Playstation.”

Emma nodded, running her hands through her hair and sighing softly. “I just want to help her, like no one helped me.”

“I know. And we will. I think you’ve already given her something she’d been missing.”

“What’s that?”

“Hope.”

Hope. The word left a bitter taste in Emma’s mouth when it came to adoption. Every time a potential parent had come, hope would build in her chest, only for it to deflate when she was deemed too old, too plain, too mean to come home with that family.

She wouldn’t let it happen to Audrey too.

#swanfire #emma swan #neal cassidy #henry mills #ouat #once upon a time #fanfiction #home is wherever i'm with you

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multifandom-stranger · 4 years

Text

4 . 10 . 16

The Broken Few Pt. 2

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

Genre: Angst, but like more light-hearted because my heart needed a break

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Some swearing here and there

That night Mark came back to the apartment he could barely keep his shit together. He wasn’t depressed by any means. He was pissed off to no end. Mark had this sudden wake up call as he ran back to the new place he called home. Why did he ever listen to that foster dad of his? He held no power over him, had no real connection to him, and Mark could care less what that shit parental figure thought of him. This epiphany had him sitting on a big bean bag in the corner of the eclectic room completely zoned. For the other boys it was even weirder to see the poor kid up at 1 AM staring off into space. Taeyong had left to go do something and so did Ten. Doyoung was the only one conscious in the room since Jaehyin passed out around 10:30. “Kid, you good? Where did you run off to anyway?” Doyoung got up from his spot where he had been sitting with his knees tucked under his arms as he hunched over his phone. The older boy shuffled his way over till he was now lying on the floor, his head propped up by the same beanbag Mark placed himself upon hours ago. “Go ahead. Speak.” Doyoung said in a sarcastic tone that drew out a small laugh from the two of them.

“I’m just amazed at how much I’ve let other people control me. For the dumbest reasons as well. It makes no sense why I let myself suffer for so long when I could do something the whole time.” Mark finally let his gaze fall to Doyoung who looked up at him with thoughtful eyes.

“Maybe we were the push you needed. Something to prove there’s a way out and a place of belonging.” He gave Mark a small nudge to his leg before seeing if he could push a bit further without getting too deep. “Still didn’t answer my last question.” Mark took a deep breath before nudging him back with his knee.

“Maybe another time. It’s really late so we should get some sleep.” Doyoung chuckled and started to saunter off to his little cot in the corner of the room. “Beddy-bye for the little one.” He teased before plopping down with a smile. “Night hyung.” Mark said with a hint of his laughter carrying over into his words.

The next morning when he woke up their tiny room was rather full. Ten and Taeyong had come back at some point in the night and now were asleep in their beds. Well, not beds. Taeyong had the other extra large bean bag and Ten had this cool hammock setup where he hung it from these really sketchy makeshift hooks. He shifted as quietly as he could to not wake anyone as he headed to the outside area at the rooftop surrounding their little home. Mark was simply trying to get some fresh air so the last thing he expected was another person to be sleeping outside on the large wooden table out there. Some dude with short grey hair and sharp eyes was lying on his stomach and holding his phone in front of him. Once Mark let the door close a bit louder than expected, though it wasn’t loud enough to wake the others, the man looked over at Mark. “Uh, hey?” He said as awkwardly as he normally would when meeting strangers.

“Sup kid. I heard you're the newbie.” The unknown man shifted till he was sat criss-cross on the platform. He patted the spot next to him casually but Mark was very curious and hesitant to sit. As far as he knew this was just some dude who snuck up to catch some z’s somewhere. Then again, he had a feeling new faces were gonna come at him left and right. “I’m Taeil. Also a part of the family so no need to… look at me like that.”

“Huh? Oh uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to stare.” Mark rubbed at the back of his neck as he apologized for the accidental unnecessarily long stare. What was he supposed to do? He just bumped into some new dude in a new place. He was beginning to worry about fitting in. How many people were there anyways? What did they really do? He still had too many questions and concerns about something he already swore a blood oath to. A hand waved in front of his face to catch his attention after another hardcore zoning out session.

“Hello?~ Earth to new kid. Wanna introduce yourself or will I have to just call you newbie forever?” Taeil was already taken by the poor kid. Taeyong had texted him about a new member to their little family last night. He could see he was probably still trying to figure out what the hell was even going on in his life. It was just so sad to see kids like him join though. Mark was young looking, probably not even eighteen yet and here he was living with them now. The only upside that lessened the pull at Taeil’s heartstrings was the idea that at least with the family these poor kids off the street may have a chance in this world. Something slightly better than before at the very least.

Mark snapped his head to Taeil and apologized again under his breath before another shy introduction. Before he could finish a thud was heard from behind them.”Yah! You fucks woke me up with the-” Mark jumped a bit and whipped his head over to the source of the voice yelling at them. Taeil lulled his head over to the small shack that was outside the actual apartment to see Kun peeked out the door to it.

“Meet Kun. Our local Chinese nagging mom.” Taeil said with much amusement in his voice. Mark was really thrown off at this point. First a man sleeping outside, not an angry man in the shed. What next, someone popping out from the roof? Kun was flustered as well. He hadn't even said hi to the kid before screaming at him. Not really his style. Not at all.

“Ha, good morning. Your name's Mark, right? I’m sorry I yelled. I just really like my sleep.” Kun slumped his way over, seemingly still half asleep. He stuck a hand out to Mark, which was taken and shook by the younger boy. “I claimed the shed because I was promised quiet anyways.” An awkward slightly ticked laugh followed. Man, what a character.

“Thanks for waking the whole family fatso.” Taeyong chirped in, his head peeking from behind the door to the apartment. “What are you doing with the baby? Mother’s should treat their kiddos nice after all.” He stuck his tongue out at Kun before ducking back into the home for safety. Taeyong was well aware of the nagging he’d receive, even at eight AM, from Kun and he was not having any of it. Not this damn early.

The three on the rooftop were left to stare at the door in silence before Taeyong peeked around it once more in a rush. “Oh, and all three of you get in here. Time to break in down for said baby.” He pointed to Mark with a big grin before leaving once again in a flash.

“Best not to fight it. Come on guys.” Taeil said as he got up with a stretch and quick yawn. Kun followed suit without a word and he patted Mark’s shoulder gently. Mark got up as well and followed the other two into the small building. It was two rooms, and yet they found a way to fit all seven of them in the small space. Mark and Doyoung sat upon his big bean bag, Ten and Kun were on the hammock, Jaehyun and Taeil on the cot, and Taeyong sat on the other bean bag. The gang's all here.

“Alright Mark, you’ve already met Kun and Taeil I see. There’s still more people to come though. Yuta’s off with Winwin trying to ease up some conflict we’ve been having on the streets.” Jaehyin scoffed at the mention of the fights. It was so dumb. Recently a gang on the streets of Seoul had been giving them shit for running activities in their area. They called themselves Got7, and they were known for their wide and vast network of connections. Jaehyun had only met them once to discuss the very topic of who got which parts of the city to roam around. He was rather upset to hear that they had told Taeyong that their family was breaking the agreement even though they had not once had anyone cross any lines. His best bet was that those bastards were trying to cheat them out of land simply because they could. They were bigger, better, and more powerful so they easily could corner their rag tag group of kids. He was pissed.

“So, today is the day we go over what we do and then send you off to do it. So far we do work for hire and take fees from local businesses as well. That’s our main income. It used to be a lot of petty crime like pickpocketing and breaking into cars, but we’ve made somewhat of a name for ourselves. No more of that shit.” Taeyong was hoping the kid wouldn’t freak out and bail. Most of the time they were hesitant, which was understandable. Some people, like Kun who patches them up, just aren’t meant for the life they lead. “Also, how old are you exactly? Not that it particularly matters.”

Mark gave a confused look before responding with “Seventeen. Why?” He was kind of lost as to how this related to anything they were talking about. What could Taeyong be getting at? Taeyong smiled and clapped his hands once for emphasis. He looked oddly satisfied.

“You also gotta get one of these. Can you show him Doyoung?” Douyoung nodded before pulling up his sleeve and revealing a small tattoo. Mark looked over to see the long and thin letters that spelled out NCT. He tilted his head and furrowed his brows. He had no clue what was going on or what that even meant.

“Wait a sec. You’re saying I’m gonna get that tattooed on me? What’s it mean and why?”

“Where you from kid?” Jaehyun asked out of the blue. Once again, Mark hardly saw any relation to the current subject. What’s with these random questions to answer his own questions?

“Canada originally. Could you please just answer one damn question I’ve asked”

“It stands for Neo Culture Tech. It means we want to spread our family’s ideals to the world in our own way. So, for example, you came all the way from Canada and now are a part of it. Ten’s from Thailand, Kun and Winwin are from China, Yuta is from Japan.” Jaehyun sighed seeing that Mark was still a bit lost. He could see in the unchanged look on his face that was true. “You get the fucking tattoo to rep the family. It’s like an ID to prove your one of us if you run into trouble. God.” All Jaehyun could think was that Mark was just dense enough to be slightly annoying. He’d have to prove himself useful in his own waay at some point.

Mark could clearly tell he was not on Jaehyun’s good side. He came off as very blunt and result oriented to Mark. A man who just wants to get shit done as soon as possible but still does it right. Probably made him very good at whatever he did. Mark made it a point to especially work hard around him and be on his game.

“Ease up on him Jaehyun.” Taeyong butted in after Jaehyun had stopped. He knew how Jaeyhun could get with these newer boys sometimes and it seemed to be worse than usual with Mark. The reason why was something he’d never know but he wasn’t having any hatred. Not in his family. “Know what, you and Ten can take him on the day's errands as well as getting tatted up! Isn’t that just lovely?” He gave a shit-eating grin as he leaned over just enough to lay an arm over Jaehyun’s shoulder and make eye contact quite obviously. Jaehyun closed his eyes and sighed knowing full why he chose the three.

“Got it. Let’s head out guys.” Jaehyun said flatly as he rose to his feet, brushing Taeyong off. Ten got up with a smile and made his way to Mark in quick, eager steps. He pushed him playfully from behind to tease.

“Let’s go newb! Time to learn the ropes!” Mark went along with it easily and walked out the door with Ten following right behind. Jaehyun left last, rolling his eyes at the duo’s antics. All three of them were certain this was gonna be one hell of a day, for different reasons obviously.

The trio headed for the streets with Jaehyun leading the way as Ten and Mark held a light conversation the whole way. He would rarely add in his thoughts or remark on their silly topics. Mark was slowly learning to like Jaehyun. He certainly could throw in his own sarcastic remarks on a whim and end up cracking the other two up. It was surprising to Mark and welcome to Ten. Ten and Mark hadn’t talked much till now and boy did they seem to get along. Both were childish in nature and liked to have fun. It was like talking with an old friend, yet this was their first real chat. All in all, the three of them were slowly growing on each other.

Mark and Ten were lucky to have Jaehyun around since they could barely tell any time had passed at all. Their seemingly short journey had already led them to a small tattoo shop lit up by neon lights that spelled out open even though it was a bright and sunny morning in the city. Mark peered into the shop windows to see that not much was going on in the small building. There were empty chairs he could see from the back and one girl at the counter with all the artbooks of designs on display. All three of them entered the tattoo parlor to be greeted by the rather pretty girl.

“Hiya boys. ‘Nother new face, huh?” Jaehyun and Ten struck up a bit of small talk with the girl for a while before she leaned over to a quiet and curious Mark. “Alright cutie, head to the back and I’ll take care of you real nice.~” She added a wink just to tease the young boy to which Mark could only blush a bit and remain silently flustered.

“Thanks again Sunmi. We owe you.” Ten sang out as Mark followed said girl to the back. She gestured for him to sit with grace before getting inks and her machine ready.

“Okay hun, you know where you want it?” Mark though on it a bit. He’d obviously never had a tattoo before since he was still underage. Wait… It was just now occurring to him this was kinda illegal. He had a feeling this would be far on the tame side of things to come so fuck it. If he wanted to commit to this shit, he was gonna really commit. “Can I get it here?” He places a hand over his heart. Why he did so was a simple reason. He already felt like he got along with these boys better than anyone else who had come into his life beforehand. Taeyong instantly empathized with his pains and struggles. Not in a patronizing way, but as someone understanding; Someone who lived it. Him and Ten were already friends as far as he was concerned. All the others opened right up to him with full honesty. Even Jaehyun was nice to Mark in his own way. He was family now and he meant it with all his heart to stick together. Especially if Taeyong planned to help others like him get to a better place in life.

Sunmi smiled at him before nodding. “You got it. Now off with the shirt.”

“Huh?” Mark huffed out a little louder than intended. “Oh uh- Yeah.” Sunmi could only giggle at the young boy’s antics. The boy was just too shy, sweet, and awkward. She hoped he had what it took to live the life of a Neo Tech member. Mark pulled his t shirt over his head and continued to sit there looking like a fucking dope. He shifted back and forth before Sunmi came back over to transfer the stencil to his chest with ease. From then on Mark made no eye contact, even when spoken to by the sweet girl. He also noticed the stifled laughter from not only Ten but Jaehyun as well. He leaned over to see them both doubled over and laughing to themselves. Or so they thought. “Hey!” He hollered at the two with a new subtle blush forming on his cheeks. That only caused the two of them to continue their laughter freely and stumble around a bit.

After Mark leaned back to a comfortable place again Sunmi held up her tattoo machine with a half smile. “Wanna know what it feels like first?”

“Sure.” A small hum was heard as she switched it on and pulled Mark by the hand. She placed the machine to the skin of his forearm causing Mark to jump just a little bit at the unfamiliar feeling. He scoffed with amusement due to the fact that it wasn’t that bad at all. “Not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

“I’m surprised, kid. Just doing this has made some people back out.” She pulled back and dipped into her ink. “Ready for the real deal”

“Go ahead.”

After a not so bad session of tattooing with small talk between Sunmi and Mark he finished up like a champ according to her. She covered the tattoo and told him how to care for it. Mark put his shirt back on. He thanked her with a smile before heading back to the front of the building again. Sat there was Tan and Jaehyun who both smiled and smirked respectively once he entered.

“What?” He asked flat out. Jaehyun shook his head and both him and Ten ros to their feet.

“Tell ya in a bit.” He said with much amusement, something rare for Jaehyun. He headed to the door, the other boys joining him as they all waved and said their goodbyes. “Thanks again Sunmi. You’re the best.”

She smiled and leaned over the counter with a coy smile. “Bye guys,” She made direct eye contact with Mark before adding “Hope to see you soon.~” with a quick wink. Mark was once again left a blushing awkward little kid. He gave her a shy wave once more before leaving with the others. Once they had left the beauty alone at the small counter of the shop she sighed. “If only he was older.”

The moment the boys were past the building and on the streets again he was met with a swift slap to the back from Jaehyun. “Damn dude.” He chuckled at Mark’s obvious confusion before Ten joined him just like before.

“What?! I don’t get it. Tell me what’s so damn funny to you two!”

“Poor thing doesn't even know!” Ten managed to choke out in between wheezes and fits of laughter. The youngest was looking back and forth at them, as if that would give him an answer quicker.

“First of all, you are soooo fucking awkward.” He patted a hand on Mark’s shoulder for emphasis. “Second, your one lucky kid.”

Mark persisted to question them over and over as to what the hell they were talking about only to be met with more chuckles and grins but never an answer until finally Jaehyun gave in. “Did she kiss the stencil?”

Mark thought back to sitting there in the chair and staring off into space. He did see Sunmi raise it to her face at one point. He thought it was to look at or something. He didn’t really put much thought into it till now because why would he? “Yeah, I think she did.”

Ten elbowed Jaehyun harshly, almost pushing him into a passerby. “See! Called that shit. You owe me.”

“Ohmygodcouldyoujusttellmealready!” Mark groaned out, highly frustrated. Why was he always left out of the loop?

“Means you're gonna do well. That and she likes you. The only time she does that is when she gets a good feeling about someone so we consider it a lucky sign.” Jaehyun finally explained.

Mark tilted his head a bit. “Who else did she do that for?”

“Taeyong, Kun, Yuta, and you so far. And me of course.” He nudged Ten back just as hard, almost sending him into the side of a building. “One of these things isn’t like the other.” He teased.

Ten rolled his eyes after recovering his balance and shot back with, “Whatever man, not like it matters too much. Let’s just go get to work already.”

Once again Jaehyun led the trio to their destination. Though Mark had no idea where it was or what they’d do he was surprised at how good he felt. He was oddly excited to see what his future with the family truly held.

Author’s note: Hiiii! I feel like I wanna explain a bit of my story so that they have a bit more meaning so expect a post dedicated to that soon. Also, I’m SO HYPE FOR MANDATORY JACKSON CAMEO. You know I had to. Aaaaanyways, thanks for reading! The next chapter will finally get into the serious stuff so if that’s what your waiting for then stuck around! Also, low key messing with format and stuff so let me know if it’s still okay. Love ya all! ❤️

#nct mafia au #nct mafia #mark #jaehyun #ten #taeyong #doyoung #kun #yuta #winwin #taeil #nct #nct u #the broken few

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Hi, nonnie! First of all, I’m always open to prompts! Secondly, this is so sweet of you to say! It honestly really put a smile on my face knowing that something I did let a little bit of happiness into your life, and even though I know very little about boxing (though I did just watch Creed II three nights ago lol), it’s kind of what got me to write you this prompt! I hope you enjoy❤️🥊

(PS: Tumblr really needs to get their act together and fix itself so I can answer prompts regularly without the “read more” button messing up.)

-/-

A fist flies in the air.

And then another one.

And another one.

There are grunts, some of effort, some of pain, and even though she can feel it in her teeth, in her own bones, she can’t tear her eyes away from the ring as red and black quickly move so that everything seems to blur, her vision blocked by the tears in her eyes and the way that oxygen doesn’t seem to be flowing as it normally does. Emma doesn’t even know the last time that she took a breath.

It was at least three minutes ago.

She cannot go three minutes without breathing.

She seems to have done just that.

He moved around the ring gracefully at first, his feet light and his punches swift, but that was before he took a harsh hit to his gut, another one to his cheek so that blood drips down his lips and into the black of his scruff that he just trimmed this morning. He’s hurting, but she knows that all he’ll think about is the fact that he’s losing.

Killian doesn’t like to lose.

And she gets it. She doesn’t either. In fact, she hates it with nearly every fiber in her being, but boxing isn’t her job like it is Killian’s. She’s a bail bondsperson who needs to say in shape, who needs to get out years worth of rage from the cards life has dealt her, and she found that outlet in boxing.

In a gym. Not in a ring.

In Killian’s gym specifically.

Well, it’s technically Liam’s as well, but considering Liam can’t stand her, she doesn’t like to give him credit for anything other than the fact that she knows that Killian is a good man thanks to his brother. Partially, at least. Killian has that goodness in himself all on his own, and the fact that he doesn’t take credit for it, saying that it’s all on Liam, breaks her heart.

Her heart is kind of breaking right now as she watches a red glove hit into his stomach.

Killian just got back from injury, a few broken and bruised ribs, a pretty nasty collection of cuts on his face, but it’s mostly the fracture in his left wrist that caused all of the issues. He just got back, just recovered, and she’s watching him get beaten all over again.

He doesn’t like to lose.

He usually doesn’t lose.

A flash of blue catches her attention from across the dark room, even the florescent lights not helping the dimness of the place, and she sees Liam move around the back of the room. He told Killian not to fight tonight, not to come here as his first match back, and she’s pretty sure that he came around tonight simply to rub it in Killian’s face if he loses.

When he loses.

Bastard.

Really, she knows that it’s to rub it in her face.

Liam cares about Killian, probably a little too much, but that’s what happens when you’re both a brother and a parent from twelve onward. She can’t possibly imagine trying to take care of a younger sibling and a drunk father, but that’s exactly what Liam did. It’s…she’s thankful for him. She really is. He gave Killian love and care when he so desperately needed it after their mom passed, and even if she doesn’t like the man now, she has to give him thanks for that.

She would have loved to have had someone love her when she was a kid moving from one foster home to the next with foster parents who never really cared.

So Liam loves Killian, but he hates her. She’s never been entirely sure why. She’s racked her brain, tried to think of something, anything, and even when she brings it up to Killian, he tells her that Liam is simply being protective, that Liam really does like her.

That’s a lie.

(It’s the only one that Killian tells her, and they both know it.)

Liam hasn’t liked her since that first day that she walked into the Jones’ Gym three years ago and asked for an instructor to help her with her form, her old gym no longer an option with...everything that happened that morning. Killian had flashed her a smile with his pearly white teeth, and even though she had literally walked into her apartment and seen Neal fucking another woman that morning, she was a goner.

And maybe a little heartbroken.

A lot heartbroken.

So her thoughts weren’t really focused on anything other than pretending that she was punching Neal’s face as hard as he does when he boxes.

(She obviously has a type, but there’s a great divide between Neal and Killian.)

Killian tested her out that first day, saw the potential she had, saw that she wasn’t a complete amateur, and even through most of her punching was rage, he quietly encouraged her, often placing his warm hands on her stomach to steady her core or tell her when to tighten her muscles. It went on like that for weeks until she was coming into the gym every single day and only leaving at night with sweat soaking her clothes and skin, a warm hand on her back as Killian guided her two blocks over to his apartment where the sweat-soaked clothes were left on the floor and her body became heated for an entirely different reason.

Maybe Liam doesn’t like her because she and Killian started off as fuck buddies, the two of them getting out their energy in a physical way outside the gym, but considering the fact that she’s been dating Killian for two of the three years that she’s known him, that she now lives in that apartment two blocks away, she thinks that the man would have enough sense to know that they’re not simply messing around.

They’re in it for the long haul.

Suddenly, the sound of a body hitting the mat rings through her ears, and her eyes dart from Liam back to Killian as he lays down on his back, the referee counting away the seconds. Her heart sinks to her stomach all the while it ticks up several paces, gooseflesh rising on her arms, and she stands from the folding chair she’s been sitting in, her feet moving without her permission as she moves toward the ring, worming her way through the small crowd to be as close to Killian as she can.

He looks worse up close, blood coating his face and lips swollen, and that nagging feeling that’s been sticking with her lately comes back. But she pushes it down. This isn’t about her or her worries. This isn’t about Liam. This is about Killian.

His opponent is announced the winner while Killian stays on the floor, and she ducks underneath the ropes to squat down next to him, tenderly pushing his hair back until he opens his eyes.

“Did – did he knock me into heaven because I swear, I’m staring at an angel.”

Killian makes an attempt at a smile then, but his lips can barely move with how swollen they are, his teeth covered in blood.

“That’s the worst joke you’ve ever made.”

“I, ah – ” he gasps, clutching at his ribs as he grimaces, and she waves Robin and Will over to help him up. They’re going to have to go to the doctor tonight, and he’s not going to be okay with it. Stubborn man. “I figured I had to try to…I needed to charm you since I apparently can’t stop getting knocked down on my ass.”

“It’s a good ass.”

“So you tell me,” he laughs, twisting his head a bit more to look at her. “Sweetheart, is he here?”

She nods her head and leans down to brush her lips over his forehead, ignoring the taste of iron and salt. “He’s here.”

-/-

One. Two.

One –

“Entering the ring is Emma Swan,” Killian bellows in an overexaggerated accent as he gingerly steps up behind her punching bag, his limp a little less prominent today but the bruises even more so as they cover his face in what might as well be black and blue ink to match the ink that covers parts of his bodies. “At a whopping one hundred and thirteen pounds, she packs a punch that could knock a man twice her size down. If she’d steady her core a bit more, it could be someone three times her size.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, adjusting her feet and throwing the two more punches that she needs to finish her set before undoing the strappings on her gloves and tossing them to the ground. She leans down and picks up her water bottle, taking a sip while her forearm wipes some of the sweat from her brow before she steps forward and quickly slides her lips over Killian’s in greeting as he hums into the kiss, trying to goad her into more than what is appropriate right now. Later. “You’re supposed to be at home.”

He shrugs before his hands reach down to find her hips, pulling her closer to him while she feels his thumbs rub small circles over her hip bones. That always does something particular to her brain where she forgets how to think about anything other than how good he feels moving against her. “I got lonely.”

“You know I’m going to work after this, right?”

“I can sit in the car with you.”

“I have a date,” she sighs, knowing that while he fully respects her and trusts her, he’s never thrilled when she does a honeytrap. She’s not always thrilled when he fights, but that’s life. “And you’re supposed to be sitting still because your ass has been kicked six ways to Sunday.”

“Darling, I’ve been tied up in bed many a times, and this is not the way that I prefer it.”

“You’re being petulant.”

“I don’t like to sit still.”

Emma nods her head as she moves her hands up his arms over his sweatshirt until she’s running her thumbs over his cheeks, keeping her eyes trained on his before she examines his face with a careful gaze, her heart lurching at how beaten up he still is.

“Babe, I know. But you can’t…you took a pretty nasty beating, and you can’t be pushing yourself. Your options are lounging around in bed, catching up on whatever TV show you’ve missed, or coming into the gym and sitting in your office with paperwork. I know which one I’d choose.”

“I’m fine.”

“I live with you. I know that’s not true. You can barely get out of bed in the mornings.”

Killian clicks his tongue, and she rolls her eyes. Stubborn ass.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he mumbles, leaning into her until his lips are running over the cords of her neck, sending pleasurable tingles down that almost make her forget the conversation they’re having. Almost.

(He’s pretty good at making her not think.)

“If you’re trying to distract me with sex, you can’t do that either. And I love you too.”

“Killian,” Liam shouts from the second story, looking down at them over the iron railing, “if you’re here, I need you to look over our financials for last month instead of doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he shouts back before whispering to her, “looks like we know which option I’m taking. Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

“Probably not so don’t eat anything good without me.”

“I’ll try, but I was thinking of getting Granny’s.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Killian waggles his brows as much as he can and drops his hands from her hips, the loss of heat immediate. “Guess you’ll just have to find out when you get home.”

-/-

Four weeks and three days later, Killian is training again.

He shouldn’t be, but he is. That’s how it always works with him. She loves him, but he’s stubborn as a mule. That’s the saying, right? Stubborn as a mule, stubborn as an ass.

It should be stubborn as Killian Jones.

He doesn’t have to box competitively, doesn’t have to supplement their income when the two of them make more than enough on their own, but he loves it. She understands the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of power he gets when he wins, but with the last two losses, she can’t help but worry.

She is not someone who worries.

Or she wasn’t. She didn’t with Neal, not when he got in the ring, but with Killian, she worries.

She doesn’t want to lose him to something that he doesn’t have to do.

So as the weeks go on and October fades into November and November turns into a chilly December, she ignores the fact that he seems to be putting his all into training and to winning as many matches as he can. She’s been busy picking up extra cases, wanting the extra money to buy Christmas gifts for her friends and Killian, so she only really sees Killian in the mornings when she comes home, crawling into bed and letting him wrap himself around her while they both catch a few more hours of sleep.

Those are her favorite moments.

She likes when they wake up in the morning, neither of them having anything to do, and the only reason Killian gets out of bed is to close the blinds so that light can’t get to them, the daylight being pushed away so that nothing else but the two of them exist in a cocoon of soft blankets. That’s what they get to do this morning as Killian trails his lips down to the base of her spine until he starts working his way up again so that he’s resting his chin on her shoulder while his hand covers her stomach, fingers splaying out to cover all of her skin while she nestles her ass into his thighs.

Perfect.

“We’re out of coffee,” he whispers into her ear while his pointer finger draws patterns up and down her stomach, both waking her and lulling her back to sleep as hot breath ghosts against her skin. “We’ll have to leave to get some.”

“That sounds like my worst nightmare.”

“We’re also out of poptarts.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Killian hums, and she knows what he’s going to say before he says it. “If you keep eating poptarts like that, they’re going to kill you.”

“They are not,” she huffs. “I exercise enough to cancel it out.”

“That’s only partially true, love.”

She buries her face further into her pillow while her hand comes to rest over his on her stomach, holding him still. “If we splurge a little, we can get our groceries delivered instead of having to trek out into the cold.”

“I have to go to the gym today. I can grab some things on the way home, but it won’t be until late.”

“Wait.” She twists her head to look at him, not caring for the strain in her neck as her nose brushes the cold tip of Killian’s. “Why are you going to the gym today? It’s your off day.”

“I’m teaching a class tonight.”

She furrows her brows. “No, you’re not.”

“I swear that I am,” he promises, the words said against her lips.

“You’re fighting tonight,” she says simply while anger begins to simmer below the surface of her skin, the warmth of Killian being replaced by the warmth of anger. “Who are you fighting that you’re not telling me about it? Booth?”

He grimaces before smiling, the one that he does when he’s trying to convince her of something, and she knows what he’s going to say, who he’s going to fight against.

“Cassidy.”

“No.” She shakes her head, pushing back from him to put a little more space between them as her mind becomes muddled with thoughts and very real memories of Killian’s bloodied face and broken wrist the last time they fought. “No, you are not fighting him. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s good money, Swan. And I have to for the rankings.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” She quickly stands from the bed, yanking open a drawer on the dresser and grabbing a sweatshirt, pulling it over her shoulders before she slams the door shut and goes in search for a pair of leggings, having to work a little bit to get them on. “You don’t fucking have to do anything, Killian. We don’t need the money, and you don’t need to have the life knocked out of you again.”

“I’m a better boxer than him.”

She chuckles, unable to stop herself, and turns around to look at him as he sits up on the bed, the comforter falling low on his hips so that she has a view of the trail of hair that leads to his cock and the quote he has inked over his hipbone. “Damn right you are, but you know exactly what he does to you up there. He talks about me, about how he knows what I’m like in bed, about how I’m the little messed up orphan, and that throws you off.”

His jaw clenches. “It’s not going to tonight. Not again.”

“He’s an asshole. God,” she groans, reaching up to run her hands through her hair, “Killian, I don’t put my foot down on a lot of things, but I’m putting the damn foot down. You are not fighting Neal tonight.”

“If I told you what to do, you’d have my head.”

“Not if you had a good reason.”

She expects him to protest, to list off several horrible reasons that he thinks are good reasons, but instead he rises from the bed and walks to the bathroom, his bare ass in clear view until it disappears behind the door for a total of thirty seconds before he’s coming out of the bathroom with clenched fists, shoving something into her hands.

A box.

A small box.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“No, no, no,” she stutters, continuing to shake her head as Killian stares at her with a raised brow and expectant eyes, his lips curved up into that all familiar smirk. “No. You are not proposing to me like this.”

His smirk falls, but just for a moment. “Why the hell not?”

“For one, you aren’t even wearing any pants.”

“You’ve never complained about that before.”

Her eyes roll. She should have seen that one coming. “And we’re fighting. I’m not going to accept a proposal while we’re arguing. That is not something I want to remember forever. And this still doesn’t answer my question about why you’re fighting tonight. That’s kind of what I care about right now.”

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, turning around and grabbing his boxers of the floor, pulling them on to cover himself before he steps back up toward her, cupping her cheeks with the rough pads of his hands before peppering kisses over every inch of her skin that he can reach, making her giggle even if she’s still trying to stand her ground. Damn him. “You are so damn stubborn, and I love that about you. I love that you challenge me, that you worry for me, but I’m fighting tonight because I have to. He beat the hell out of me last time, Swan, and I can’t let him keep doing that. I can’t let me demons win. And no, we don’t need the money, but I want it to make my last payment on this ring so that I can ask you to marry me.”

“Is that why you’ve been crazy lately? Why you’re fighting more?”

He nuzzles his nose into hers before resting his forehead against hers, the warmth the only thing she focus on for a moment. She has no idea what’s happening this morning, and she’s not entirely sure that any of it makes sense. “Aye, but also because my brother is an asshole, and I had some tension to work out.”

She knows exactly why Killian thinks Liam is being an ass.

“He doesn’t want you to propose, does he?”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know all.” He chuckles, closing the inch between them and slowly gliding his lips over hers so she can feel the softness of his lips that only goes away when he’s healing from a busted lip. She always wants him to have soft lips that make her feel more at home than anything else ever has. “Why doesn’t he like me?”

“He thinks you’re going to break my heart.”

“I’m not.”

“I know,” Killian sighs. He runs his hands down from her face to her shoulders, squeezing the slightest bit while they slowly sway together, the ring box still clutched in her hands. It’s still not quite hitting her that Killian wants to marry her, not with everything else that’s happening to make her stomach roll, queasiness coursing through her. “He…he says that the way I am with you reminds him of how I was with Milah.”

Shit.

“Killian – ”

“You’re not her. I’ve never thought you were her, but he can’t…he’s blinded about a lot of things, Swan. He doesn’t understand how to not be this way with me. He can’t turn it off.”

“He has to. You’re thirty. You’re your own person. He can’t hold some kind of grudge against me because someone betrayed you in the past. That’s not how life works. He doesn’t want you to fight like you do, and yet he’s the one igniting your passion for it.”

“It’s my decision.”

“Don’t do it,” she begs, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting her as she leans forward a little more into his space. “Please don’t do it.”

“I have to.”

“I’m not going to come. I won’t be there to watch.”

“I know.” He nods his head against hers and reaches down to hold his hand over hers, closing her fingers over the box. “Think about the question you won’t let me ask, okay? I promise I’m going to come home to you tonight.” “I’m holding you to that since you insist on being so stubborn.”

He doesn’t come home that night.

She gets the call when she’s sitting on the edge of their bathtub, a plastic stick in her hands with two lines, and she almost doesn’t realize it at first because she can’t quite get over the fact that she’s pregnant.

Pregnant.

It’s…she knows that she can be a little loose with her birth control, that maybe they don’t always use condoms, but she honestly thought that she’d gotten better about all of that lately. But one time without is time enough, and she’s – she’s pregnant.

And her boyfriend is apparently in the hospital again getting his left wrist x-rayed, the crunch heard throughout the arena, with other injuries that had Will’s accent a bit more pronounced, something that only happens when he’s worried.

She could throw up.

That might be the pregnancy.

Without bothering to change out of her sweatpants, she grabs her jacket and her beanie, pulling them both on as she runs out the door and takes the train to Mass General, her leg never stopping its shaking on the way there.

Damn Killian.

Damn Neal.

Damn this idiotic sport that they all love despite themselves.

“Emma,” Will yells when she walks into the emergency room, all of the seats filled with people she probably shouldn’t be around, “he’s back here.”

“I can’t believe you guys let him fight tonight.”

“We can’t believe you did.”

“He didn’t listen to me.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

Will guides her back behind a curtain, pulling the ugly patterned thing back to reveal Killian sitting in a hospital bed with his wrist already wrapped in a white cast and stiches covering his face, a pretty nasty cut on his cheek that Liam seems to be checking out.

Was Liam there tonight?

She should have been there despite absolutely not wanting him to go.

Can her life calm down for just, like, one minute? She needs a minute.

“You look awful,” she says simply, crossing her arms over his chest as her eyes keep scanning his body.

He smiles, just a soft little curve of his lips, and not for the first time, she wonders how much of an idiot he is.

(But she loves that idiot.)

“You should see the other guy.”

“I’d rather not.”

Killian chuckles, but it really only ends up making him cough, and she steps further into the partition to help him sit up a bit more, a pillow propped behind his head. “I won, Swan.”

“I don’t care about any of that.” She runs her hands through his hair, working through the dried sweat, and leans down to press a kiss to the center of his forehead where he’s not all scratched up. “Are you alright?”

“Just a few, ah, nicks and bruises, nothing I haven’t experienced before.”

“Killian – ”

“He broke his wrist again,” Liam explains, making her actually look at him while she feels Killian’s right hand fumble until he’s holding hers, their fingers interlocking. “His ribs are bruised, and he’s had to get several cuts stitched up. He’s not fine, and you need to stop encouraging him to fight.”

“Me? You think I’m the one encouraging this? First of all, Killian makes his own damn decisions, and if you bothered to know me at all, you’d know that I did not encourage this. I support Killian because this is what he loves, but I did not support him tonight. Believe it or not, I actually care about him.”

“That’s what all of the others said too.”

“What about me makes you think that I’m like all of the others?” she yells, anger coursing through her veins even as she remembers that they’re in a very open emergency room. She’s done with Liam being an asshole. She’s done with it. If Killian is going to be her husband, the father to her child, her partner for the rest of her life, she’s not about to keep letting his brother push her around. “I am nothing like any of them. I make him happy. I love him, and I am never going to leave him. I have never given you any indication to think otherwise.”

“You bloody well did – ”

“For fuck’s sakes,” Killian huffs, his voice louder than even hers was. “Liam, get the stick out of your ass and let me live my own life. I love you, but you are suffocating me and Emma. We’re together. We’re staying together, and I really need you to get on board with that instead of making all of us miserable.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, no retort on his tongue, and she watches him cross his arms over his chest, his head moving in the slightest of nods. It’s probably the most she’s going to get for now, if ever, and honestly, she’s okay with that. She has a million other things she’s got to worry about.

Later, when Killian’s been released from the hospital and is sitting up on the couch, his feet propped on the ottoman with ice strapped all over his body, she settles down next to him, her bottom lip between her teeth as she debates on how exactly she wants to go about all of this. She could wait until tomorrow, but she’s never been the best with timing.

“I will marry you under two conditions,” she starts, pressing the ring down onto his thigh. He looks at it first before twisting his head so that she’s staring into the light blue that she loves so much.

So damn much.

“I don’t think conditions are usually made, love.”

“We’re not usual people.”

“Alright,” he laughs, using his good hand to reach over and take hold of her left hand as his thumb rubs over her knuckles, making her breath hitch but soothing her all the same, “I will listen to your two conditions.”

“Good. So for one, I need you to stop agreeing to matches with any ex-boyfriend of mine or anybody who is going to beat the shit out of you to the point where you actually get seriously injured with something that can’t be fixed in a singular hospital visit.”

“That seems like more than one condition.”

“Killian.”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, nodding his head and squeezing her hand. “I’ve already been thinking about that, figured my anger has been a little misplaced lately and I haven’t been making the smartest decisions. What’s your second condition?”

Her stomach rolls again, something she’s kind of getting used to, and as nervous as she is, as scared as she is, she can’t help the giddy excitement as she brings their joined hands to her lips. “I need you to be excited about being a father.”

It takes him approximately seven seconds to understand what she’s saying, and when he gets it, his eyes become impossibly bluer, tears pooling in them, and even though it pains him, he leans forward to capture her lips, exploring her mouth in an insistent kiss that makes her toes curl as she laughs into it, all of the anger and worry of today fading into something much lighter.

Much better.

Killian does end up going back into the ring, even if it’s mostly to teach classes at the gym, but this time he’s got their daughter’s name tattooed on his left wrist so that she’s right there punching with him.

#cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #Captain Swan

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stahlop · 5 years

Text

Must Love Dogs (4/?)

It’s Chapter 4 and time for the first date! This is based very much on my first date with my husband, read the notes below for all the details. Thank you @profdanglaisstuff for being my beta. You are the best!

Chapter 1 2 3

Also on Ao3

Chapter 4

Killian arrived at the restaurant 10 minutes before the start of the date. He hadn’t meant to get there so early, but he’d been nervous after getting dressed in jeans and a blue plaid flannel, and had been pacing around his apartment for half an hour before finally just getting in his Jeep and heading over to where he was to meet Emma.

He had suggested The Boathouse for their date. It was a restaurant with a great view of the harbor. It also had an amazing outdoor patio and the weather was still nice enough that they could eat out there without overheating or shivering from cold.

He got himself seated out on the patio and he could also see the parking lot from his table. He scrutinized every car that drove into the lot hoping that it was Emma, but after 10 minutes she still had not arrived. He really hoped he was not being stood up.

Killian had taken a chance by asking her out for that night. He knew it wasn’t exactly good form, giving a woman only three hours to get ready, but he really wanted to meet her face to face. He thought the anticipation would kill him if he had to wait until tomorrow to meet her.

An older model, yellow Volkswagen Beetle drove into the lot. He could hear the screeching of metal on metal coming from its engine. He truly hoped that wasn’t Emma’s car. He didn’t fancy driving around someday in what seemed like a death trap. The Beetle found a parking place and a beautiful, blonde goddess emerged from the car. He guessed he would be driving around in that metal death trap.

She walked across the parking lot into the restaurant. She was wearing skinny jeans and brown calf-length boots with some sort of green top that was covered by a red leather jacket. Her blonde hair hung in shiny, loose waves down her figure. She looked even better in person.

“Emma?” he asked getting up from where he’d been sitting. She walked over and gave him a shy smile. “You look stunning.” He walked over to her seat and pulled out the chair for her.

“Such a gentleman.” Emma said smiling again, but not as shy as before. She sat in the seat and removed her jacket, placing it on the back of the seat. She was wearing a wrap-around green top that showed off her curves perfectly, but didn’t reveal too much cleavage.

“I’m always a gentleman.” Killian replied going back to his side of the table and taking a seat. “That’s quite a vessel you captain there,” he said, referring to her car. Emma blushed.

“I know. It was the first car I ever bought with my own money and I just can’t bear to get rid of her.” She glanced down at the menu almost as if she were embarrassed.

‘Hey,” Killian said grabbing her hand, “there’s nothing wrong with holding on to things with pleasant memories. I just haven’t seen one of those in awhile.” He smiled, hoping to make her feel more secure. “And,” he added, ‘my friend Robin happens to be a mechanic for foreign-made cars, and I know he’ll give a friend discount.”

“Well, I may just have to keep you around just for that.” She smirked and then looked back down at her menu.

“Yes, maybe you should.” Killian replied, looking at his own menu as well.

Killian didn’t know when he’d been on a more entertaining date. Emma regaled him with tales of outrageous bail jumpers that she’d had to arrest.

“I found him dangling from his girlfriend’s apartment fire escape, butt-naked, except for his shoes, trying to make a run for it. And it was January!”

Killian told some comical tales about life in the Royal Navy.

“My commanding officer during basic training was only about 66 inches tall and had to stand on a box just to yell in most of our faces. My friend Will and I just couldn’t keep a straight face the first time he did it and both of us busted up laughing. After we had to clean the latrines with toothbrushes, we learned to hold in our laughter.”

They compared stories about their dogs.

“Ditie likes to wake me up by putting her face right into mine. Nothing like dog breath to wake a person up.” Emma laughed.

“Jolly likes to sleep in my bed with me. I tried to deter it, but she kept giving me a sad face and I finally gave in. And she hogs the covers.” Killian said laughing.

Emma told him about the previous bad online dates she had that prompted her to adopt Aphrodite.

“He really claimed getting kicked in the balls was more painful than childbirth? What a wanker!” He marveled at the amount of bad dates she’d been on. Could those idiots not see what was right in front of them?

Killian told her how he’d forgotten he had even set up an account on the MustLoveDogs website.

“I almost moved it to my spam folder. I’d joined the site in an inebriated state about a year ago. You were the first woman to even respond.” He said smiling again and taking the last bite of his dinner.

“I find that hard to believe. Your profile was pretty amazing.” Emma said. She exuded confidence now. She had started out a little reserved (he couldn’t blame her after hearing those stories), but she was in her element now. Eating and talking with abandon. “I actually tried to model my profile after yours,” she gave a small smile, and god how he loved that smile already, “so we’d seem more in sync.” She blushed a little, although Killian barely saw it as night had fallen and the patio was only lit by fairy lights.

The patio had been awfully full and between the boats on the harbor and the cars in the parking lot, they had moved closer to each other to not miss a word the other said. The waitress came and removed their plates and they both asked for a wine refill as they weren’t ready to part yet.

“Tell me, Emma,” he began as he took a sip of the fresh glass of wine the server had brought to them, “how did you end up in Boston? You said you moved around a lot.” He suspected he knew the answer. She hadn’t said she was a military brat when he spoke of his service.

“Um,” she started, tracing the rim of her wine glass, “I was in the foster system. Abandoned as a baby, no idea who my parents were, or are, and don’t care.” She said it nonchalantly, as if it hadn’t affected her her entire life, but as if it were something that had just happened to her. “So, I was in a variety of places. Found in Maine and lived in Minnesota, Washington, Arizona, and Florida before I came to Boston, where I aged out of the system.” Emma took a long sip of her wine.

“Hey,” he said, taking her hands in his, “I’m sorry. Not for what happened in your past, but for all those people who were too idiotic to see what they had in front of them. But I get it. Wounds that are made when we’re young tend to linger.” He pressed a kiss to the knuckles of her hands.

“Thank you, Killian.” Emma said removing her hands from his and dabbing her napkin under her eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to get so heavy. Tragic backstories aren’t usually first date material.” She put the napkin back down on the table and resumed holding his hands.

“Do you want to get out of here? This place will be closing soon and I know a great bar where we can hang out for a little while longer if you’re amenable.” Killian waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Sure,” Emma smiled, “I’d like that.”

EKEKEK

Emma couldn’t believe how great the date was going. Usually she was annoyed or pissed with her date after half an hour, but she was utterly fascinated with Killian. Even after she’d told him about her past he didn’t judge her, only gave words of encouragement. He was funny, a good listener, a good conversationalist, and drop dead sexy (that flannel he was wearing matched his blue eyes perfectly), plus he had a dog, could he be any more perfect?

Killian had suggested going to a bar that was not too far away. One they could walk to without problem. Emma didn’t want the date to end, so when he’d suggest going to The Rabbit Hole, she was game. She’d seen the bar before but had never actually gone in.

They talked the whole way to the bar. Emma told him about Ruby and Dorothy and Mary Margaret and David.

“Mary Margaret found the website for me,” Emma admitted. “I never would have gone looking for something like that on my own.

Killian told her about Robin and Will and his brother, Liam.

“Robin and Will might as well be my brothers too. They can be wild, but they’re the best mates anyone could have. Got me out of a right bunch of trouble in my younger days. Liam practically raised me. My dad left early on and my mum got sick when I was in secondary school. Liam put off university until after she died and I went into the Navy,” he said somberly. Emma stroked her thumb over his hand that she was already holding.

They made their way to the bar entrance. Killian was surprised there was a cover as bands didn’t usually play on Friday nights.

“It’s the Lost Boys. They came in to play a surprise acoustic set tonight,” the bouncer told them. The Lost Boys were a local alternative band that had a few big hits on the radio. Emma’s eyes lit up. She’d always wanted to see them. Plus, Ruby had dated their bass player back in the day, before they were known.

Killian paid the cover and they went in. The bar was only semi-crowded. The show had not been advertised until the day of and only on their Facebook page, according to the bouncer. Also, they were at the end of their set. They had, maybe, only three songs left.

Killian went to the bar to get them some drinks, rum and coke for her, straight rum for him. She found a high top table for them to place their drinks on. When Killian returned they started to dance to the music. It wasn’t that easy to dance to alternative rock music, it mostly consisted of jerky movements coming from Killian and a bit of swaying from Emma. She looked over at him and laughed. He seemed so free, like he didn’t have a care in the world. That’s what she wanted, a man who wasn’t afraid to dance like no one was watching, even if he was terrible at it. He had the goofiest grin on his face and he was enjoying himself. And so was she.

The set ended after a few more songs. Emma went to go talk to the bass player for a moment (they’d met once or twice when he and Ruby were dating), and then went back to Killian who was finishing up his drink.

“Sorry,” she said, “Graham dated Ruby once upon a time, so I just had to say hi.” She finished what remained of her drink as well, which was basically watered down rum and coke by that point.

“No worries.” Killian said smiling, “I had a fantastic time, Emma. Shall we walk back to our cars now?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Emma said, grabbing her jacket off the table and slipping it on.

They walked out into the cool night air. It felt amazing after dancing in the bar. The walk back went too fast for Emma’s taste, even though it took a good twenty minutes. The brisk air helped clear both their heads from the slight buzzes they had from the last drinks at the bar. They were both silent as they reached the parking lot, their vehicles the only ones left since the restaurant had closed an hour or so ago.They stopped in front of Emma’s car. She turned toward him and blurted out, “Go out with me again.”

“I’d love to.” Killian smiled, “How about you bring Ditie over to my place and I’ll make dinner. I can even invite Will and his lovely girlfriend, Belle, over and they can amuse you with embarrassing stories from the past few years.”

“Ok.” Emma said breathlessly.

“Great!” Killian said, kissing her hand. “Until tomorrow then.” She opened the door to her car and got in and watched him walk to the only other car on the lot, his Jeep. Then she started her car and headed home.

Emma slept well and had pleasant dreams of Killian that night.

End Notes: My future husband drove into the parking lot in a wood paneled station wagon and I just remembered thinking, 'please don't let that be my date's car.' But it worked so perfectly with Emma's bug, I had to switch roles there. We did go to a restaurant called The Boathouse, but it was in Tempe, AZ, in July, so we were sweltering. And we did end up going to a bar and catching the end of the acoustic show for the local Phoenix, alternative rock band, Authority Zero. And my best friend was a radio DJ for the one alt rock station (RIP 103.9 The Edge), so I went and talked to them after their set. And yes, there was no kiss on the first date.

Please leave comments and reblog! Also, let me know if you want to be tagged when other chapters post.

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious

#cs au ff #cs online dating #cs pet dating #cs first date #profdanglaisstuff

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jemej3m · 5 years

Text

to the moon and back (p3)

last part!

(i realised i forgot warnings for the last one! sorry, i’ll try and edit that asap)

tw: canon typical rape, violence

part one | part two | part three

Andrew didn’t regret.

Or, he was trying to live a regret-less life. As a 17 year old, he wasn’t exactly a master of his own thoughts. But no matter what he did, he tried not to doubt himself, or dwell on it.

Some said that made him keen for collateral damage. That he took no responsibility.

Andrew didn’t care about what anyone said.

So, when he finally decided to ignore the wheedling voice in his head, it was—

Well, a disaster. But also, not a disaster.

Neil had just won his semi-finals with his Foxes, and Andrew watched his brother, best friends and the boy he definitely didn’t care about laugh and sway from side-to-side, exuberant and stupid with success. Andrew’d been invited to the celebratory party, of which he’d decided to attend under the pretence of ‘free alcohol’ and ‘Someone has to drive you home, Aaron.’

In honesty, he hadn’t consumed alcohol since going on his antidepressants. And he knew that his brother would just pass out and stay the night with Katelyn, who’s parents were out. Betsy was chill, but she wasn’t that chill.

Kevin was leaning into his girlfriend—Thea Muldani had just graduated from Evermore, already accepted for a sports scholarship in West Virginia, and found herself in the disgraced company of jeering Foxes—as he offered her a half-full cup. Probably Vodka. Kevin drank like his father would send him to rehab in the morning, every time.

Aaron was dancing, Boyd, Gordon, Wilds and Reynolds were keeping Renee busy, but not busy enough for her to spare the wink she sent towards Andrew, gesturing to Neil.

Neil was sipping a soda, looking at him. Andrew rose his eyebrow, challenging his gaze. The boy simply stood, turned and left out the front door.

Andrew, obviously, had no choice but to follow.

“You just won. What’s the doom and gloom about?” Andrew mirrored the way he leaned onto the front porch’s railing.

“I’m scared about my dad coming back.” He looked at Andrew. “I’m not allowed to go out. What if he comes back and the house is empty?”

They were going to contact the police tomorrow: They’d found the body yesterday, but Neil had been too nervous with the semi-finals game. Now that it was out of the way and dealt with, Neil had to shove his uneasiness aside and just do it.

“He’s not going to come back.” Andrew reminded him. “We’re the only two people who know right now. He’s not coming back tonight, Neil.”

He nodded weakly and said nothing, but Andrew could hear the cogs whirring under the pretty red curls.

“What.” He said flatly.

“I—“ He looked at Andrew. As far as he knew, Neil never let himself be scared in front of someone like this. No one. “He’s going to kill me, Andrew.”

Andrew ignored his conscience and cupped Neil’s jaw with his hand, wearing the most stern expression he could muster. “I won’t let him touch you.”

Neil looked down at him and nodded once.

Slowly, giving time for Neil to lean away, Andrew kissed him gently. He tried to stop the shaking in his hands, the chattering of his teeth, but it was impossible, when unwanted images popped up behind closed eyelids but Neil was right there. He was so torn. So fucking torn.

Neil’s lips were slightly chapped and tasted like lemonade. Andrew could feel the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheeks. The tip of his nose was soft where it brushed against his, and Andrew’s heart was thudding so loudly that surely Neil had to have heard it.

When he stepped back, dropping his hand and taking in a nervous breath, he watched Neil slowly open his eyes.

“You like me,” The dumbass said, astounded.

Andrew’s ire twitched. “No shit, idiot.”

Neil winced. “Sorry, I—“

“Shut up. Shut up.” Andrew pinched his lips shut with his fingers, terrified of what Neil was going to say, because, he already knew the answer. Because Andrew was fucked up and Neil wasn’t even gay and there was no way in hell that he would ever reciprocate this—

Andrew regretted.

“Don’t say anything.” Andrew warned him. Neil looked at him, confused, as he paced away. Before he had the chance to do the opposite of what Andrew told him to, Andrew turned, running with his car keys already in his hand.

His mind was blank. He tried to conjure up any thought or feeling, anything at all, but all he could manage was I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up.

He thought Neil had stayed on the porch and resigned to watching him leave, but a shadowed figure ran in front of his car. Andrew slammed the brakes and threw himself out of the car with vengeance: If he could see himself, he imagined steam coming out of his ears. The idiot was caught in his headlights, cheeks as red as his hair and eyes bright with adrenaline.

“Are you fucking serious?” He snarled. “What are you doing, throwing yourself a car like that—“

Neil held Andrew by the jaw and kissed him, squarely on the mouth, effectively shutting up Andrew’s reprimanding and sending his pathetic, teenage mind into a frenzy. He instinctively grabbed Neil’s scarred hands and took them away from his face, holding them down and away from him. He couldn’t, however, resist entwining their fingers together as they stood in the middle of the quiet street, illuminated by his headlights and cocooned by the ignition warning and party music in the background.

Neil broke off, breathless and smiling, just a little bit.

“Kevin told me to stop pining over you, weeks ago.” Neil admitted, in the close proximity between them. “I didn’t even realise I was pining. Or that I like you at all.”

I like you, Andrew’s mind echoed giddily. “You’re so stupid.”

“I know.” Neil agreed.

“Don’t touch me.” Andrew warned.

“Okay.” He accepted, putting his hands in his pockets. He nudged Andrew’s nose with his own, his smile blindingly adorable. “Hey.”

“I hate you.” Andrew grumbled

“To the moon and back?” Neil teased.

Andrew shushed him with a weak growl, kissing him into silence.

“AJ,” A smug voice came from just behind him.

Andrew’s mind slowed down to the point of dysfunction. It was a year, exactly a year, since Andrew had last seen or heard from the man. It was ironic that his worst nightmare would come to life on a day Andrew had been ecstatic for: A day, just for him and Neil. A day where he would kiss Neil again.

The police had been anonymously tipped. Andrew had sought out Officer Higgins to warn him about how Nathan Wesninski had previously bought out a murder investigation, and that he was high-risk and absolutely could not be allowed bail. The pig had taken it seriously, as he always did with Andrew. Especially since Andrew and Aaron had anonymously provided him with invaluable details on abusive foster homes. He owed Andrew a favour, so he knew that Higgins would come through.

Neil, with his many, many issues, had naturally ingrained trust issues in all police. If Betsy was murdered and the murderer managed to buy out the investigation, Andrew wouldn’t trust them with even a penny either.

Neil trusted Andrew, though, so he had to trust Higgins.

Soon, the police would gain a search warrant to the house, and Neil would have nothing to do with it: it was being kept as extremely confidential, to avoid Nathan’s ears from alerting the man himself. The search and consequential discovery would surely notify Neil’s father, who remained up in Baltimore, but by then it would too late. Neil would be safe. A dead body would be found in Nathan’s cellar. There was no escaping prison, this time around.

The uneven, sarcastic grin and menacing glint to the junkie’s eyes had returned. Andrew sat on the hood of his car, waiting for Neil as Exy practise finished, reading Jekyll and Hyde for the nth time and smoking. He’d been at peace, thinking vaguely about telling Neil how he felt, his final results, his plans for the summer.

Until Drake had appeared at his side.

“Higgins said I might find you here.” His ex-boyfriend pulled himself up onto the hood of his car, next to Andrew. Andrew was frozen. “When he told me that you’d got yourself mixed up in a murder investigation, I couldn’t believe it. It’s not like you to cause trouble.” He could hear the threat in Drake’s voice. He could hear that sickening, sickening grin. “Is your mom home?”

It was a trick question: Drake knew that she wouldn’t be. Thursday nights was one of her two late nights volunteering at Easthaven.

“How about Aaron?” Drake laughed softly. “Speak of the devil. Aaron!”

“Drake? What are you doing in town?” Aaron smiled, speaking casually. He didn’t know. He didn’t know, because Andrew had never told him: Andrew’d never told anyone, except—

“Just visiting Mom before my first employment.” They talked like friends, because they had been friends. Oh, fuck. Andrew was going to be sick. “Andrew picking you up?”

“Oh, no.” Aaron shook his head. “I spend Thursdays with my girlfriend, Katelyn.” Aaron was looking at Andrew now. He hoped Aaron could see the red flags, but he knew that his brother wouldn’t: He was always tired after practise, and it was getting. In his head Andrew was screaming, as though that would help Aaron to see. It didn’t work.

Drake’s grin widened. “Oh, cool. Have fun!”

“Will do.” Aaron saluted the two of them. “Oh, Andrew, he’s just talking to Coach—“

“We’re going.” Andrew managed, sliding off the car and rounding to the driver’s door. If Aaron mentioned Neil, Drake would assume, and then—and then he might—Neil didn’t—he couldn’t—

Andrew let out the smallest of sobs before Drake could open the car door and slide inside. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he swerved out of the school’s parking lot.

He closed his eyes and wished this all to be a horrible, horrible dream.

When he opened them, his vision was fragmented, like shattered glass shards. It was dark in his bedroom, just how he always remembered this happening. His arms hurt, bruised by Drake’s fingers. His armbands were gone, knives were gone, defences were gone, and yet—

Drake was gone, too.

Andrew scrambled upright, almost dry heaving with the effort. He reached out and grabbed for the first thing he could, but it wasn’t a knife, or a lamp, or anything he could use to defend himself. It was a fistful of soft fabric, that smelled like Neil’s laundry soap. The raised scarring beneath was Neil’s skin. Distantly, he thought, impossible, but the wiry limbs and red curls were not Drake, so Andrew couldn’t care less.

His awareness came in bits-and-pieces. He realised Neil had covered him with a sheet, and that they weren’t the only two people in the room.

Aaron was standing with an Exy stick—Neil’s striker stick—over his head.

“Give me a good reason not to crush you to a pulp right now!”

Andrew’s attacker was a crumpled head on the floor. How had two teenage midgets beaten a training soldier so badly?

The volume of Aaron’s yelling made Andrew’s ears ring.

“Get out. Get out!”

Neil let go of Andrew to stick a knife at Drake’s throat—Andrew’s knife. The man paused, terrified in the presence of these tiny, psycho teenagers. “If you ever come near him again, I will make sure you spend the rest of your short life in prison. I heard rapists never last very long.”

“Get out.” Aaron echoed, shoving him with the butt of the Exy stick. Neil grabbed it off him and gestured towards Andrew, before disappearing.

Andrew’s twin fell onto his knees in front of him. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to hospital? You’re bleeding so much.”

“Did he hurt you?”

Aaron shook his head. They clutched onto each other. “Why didn’t you tell me, Andrew?”

“I didn’t know how.” He muttered. “I couldn’t tell you or Mom. I just didn’t know how.”

“But Neil knew.” Aaron murmured. “I told him that you’d gone home with Drake, your old friend. He went white and forced me to come back here.”

Neil looked at him from under his eyelashes. “What?”

“I want to know what your father’s name is.” Andrew knew his father had created a falsified identity for Neil to attend Evermore with, which he maintained at Palmetto. He also knew he was named after his father, in the typical, egocentric European fashion.

“You’ll have to tell me something that no one else knows, too.”

Andrew swallowed. “Okay.”

“Nathan.” Neil said, softly.

“You don’t seem like a Nathan.”

“I’m not.” He turned to look at Andrew. “I’m Nathaniel.”

For a moment, they sat in silence.

Then Neil’s fingers drifted to take the cigarette from between Andrew’s fingers. “Why did you hurt yourself?” His hand drifted over the black armbands, never touching.

Andrew forgot that Neil was irritatingly perceptive sometimes. “It was the only way I could keep myself from telling people how my boyfriend was hurting me.”

Neil said nothing at that, fingers drifting over his own scars. “He’d better be far away from here.”

It was an unexpected streak of protectiveness that had warmth blossoming in Andrew’s chest. “He left for military training after graduating last year.”

Neil nodded, satisfied. Andrew closed his eyes. Telling someone lifted that weight off his shoulders. The lightness was incredible.

“Just—“ Aaron pulled him up, keeping the sheets around him. “Come to my room. I’m calling Mom.”

Andrew let himself lean against his brother and said nothing to fight him. It was beyond time to tell them the truth. “Neil?”

“Right here.” A soft voice said from the stairwell.

“Go home.” Andrew croaked.

Neil hesitated, curls bouncing, gaze unwavering, but promptly vanished. Aaron tucked him in under his own covers, sitting by him on the floor and leaning their foreheads together. Andrew knew he was on the phone to Betsy.

“Andrew, I’m coming home.” His mother’s voice lulled him, the remnants of anxiety and adrenaline washing away with her soothing voice. “I love you to the moon and back, honey. I’ll see you soon.”

He couldn’t find it within himself to reply: The pull of exhaustion was irresistible and he fell fast asleep within moments.

He dreamt of a happy teenaged boy, in a peaceful home with his brother and his mother. They were all safe. He had everything he ever wanted.

Even in the dream, Andrew knew it was impossible.

Neil was leaning against his—Andrew’s—car as he came out of his front door, waiting for him.

“You know, a ‘good morning’ is a commonplace greeting used in the English language—“

Andrew grabbed him with handfuls of his ugly hoodie and said: “Yes or no?” When Neil nodded, he kissed him against his own car. Neil made a small noise. Andrew couldn’t remember whether or not it was characteristic of Neil: They had only kissed at the semi-finals celebration, two and and half months ago.

Two months ago, Drake had been effectively banished by Aaron and Neil—two weeks after that kiss. Neil’s father had been arrested a mere week after that, forcing Andrew to come out of his shell to comfort Neil in his panic. Then Neil had withstood a long, agonising trial about his abuse and his mother’s murder. No, he had not known there was someone in the cellar, or who that person was. Nor did he know his father’s tendency to murder resistant employees. Nor was it reasonable to ask for a child to report their murderous father after being threatened and hurt by said man.

Andrew thought the trial was unnecessarily long for something so simple, and Neil had been the heart of it. He had accompanied Neil home from Columbia Courthouse every evening, sat with him and a cigarette outside Wymack’s apartment, until Neil had managed a weak goodbye and went inside.

Never did Andrew dare to kiss him. Neil, equally as distraught, never tried or asked. Now a week after his father’s conviction and resulting imprisonment, Neil was looking at Andrew with the original snarky grin that caught Andrew’s attention during tutoring sessions, the brilliant spark returning to his eyes.

Andrew felt much, much better.

“Hey.” Neil murmured, sandwiched between the car and the car’s owner.

“Hey.” Andrew returned. Today they were going to get school supplies. Things would be going back to normal -- with one new, exciting addition.

Neil pecked a small kiss on Andrew’s cheek.

“I hate you.” He grumbled.

“To the moon and back, I know.” Neil said with his small grin. Andrew couldn’t help but flush.

A cab caught his interest, swinging into the driveway opposite Betsy’s quaint cottage home. Neil stood back, following Andrew’s line of sight and watching the cab as its passenger door opened and a young man clambered out. The cabbie grabbed a large suitcase from the boot as the man tied up his hair wrapping his arms around his stomach as he crossed the road.

The car had hidden Andrew and Neil from view until the man had stepped onto the pavement, spotting them standing by the car garage. His eyes were hooded, circles underneath darkened with exhaustion, brown skin having lost its colour and his hair a matted mess of dark curls. The cab peeled off after payment and the man turned a hollowed view onto Andrew.

Neil stayed quiet and still at the man’s approach.

“Andrew,” The man started. “You won’t know me, but I’ve been kicked out of my parents home. I have nowhere else to go. I’m Nicholas Hemmick, your cousin. Will you let me stay?”

i hope u like the way i included nicky. wouldn’t be a proper au without the babe.

that’s all from me! hope u liked it

#andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #betsy dobson #all for the game #the foxhole court #high school au #yay!#jem writes

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fromthewritingcorner · 5 years

Text

The Two Headed Dog part 1

thewritingcorner

In every big city there's always that part of town that everyone knows to keep clear of, especially if they wanted to keep their heads on their shoulders. It's always the same looking places, run down streets filled with trash, and graffiti that decorated the buildings and signs. This place was no different. Its streets seemed to be clouded in a constant sense of unease, and for those who lived there found themselves looking over their shoulders and keeping to themselves.

The area wasn't necessarily the ideal home for everybody, but to some, it was the only option. And for one, it was the only place he had ever known. Michael Allen was born and forgotten in this place. After his mother died from childbirth and whoever his father was bailed, like a lot of these kids in the area, Michael was placed into the foster care system.

He grew up looking over his shoulders, placing his trust in a select amount of people, and keeping his head out of the trouble that ran the streets. For Michael being in the system meant jumping from foster home to foster home, but unlike most who have nothing at the end of the tunnel when they turn 18, Michael was lucky.

The Two Headed Dog was exactly what you would think of when picturing a run down, shady dive bar on the bad side of town. The outside was that classic red brick, that had been stained more than once by spray paint. The dark green awning that hung over the bars door once had a working light under it years ago; now when the switch was flipped on, a yellow light strobes in inconsistent patterns throughout the night. The front door was a heavy metal thing that had been painted over a few to many times. The only thing in real working order outside was the neon sign above the awning that flashes red and blue with the bar's name in twisting cursive.

For those passing by, the place was nothing but a hole in wall gutter bar probably filled with unsavory patrons who you never wanted to cross paths with in the streets. But for Michael, it was the one thing that kept him off the streets when he turned 18. The old owner of the place had become somewhat of a mentor to Michael. She had taken Michael in and allowed him to have a job behind the bar. Before him, it was only her running the joint. So it was no surprise that when she died, she left to place to Michael.

So for him, the rundown, hole in the wall gutter bar, filled to the brim with unsavory patrons, was his way of life. The bar provided for him, and in turn, he could provide for his family.

“Hey Mikey, what the fuck happened to the jukebox?” Michael looked up from the bar and took notice of the busted up machine.

“Your pal Sebs busted it up last night after a few to many; thats what happened.” Michael answered and went back to cleaning up behind the bar.

“That bastard ain't no friend of mine! He's a loose cannon that can't keep his drink down.” Michael raised a dark colored brow at the man before him. The bar had another hour before opening, but Michael didn't mind letting in certain patrons early, and the man before him was one of the few who he did let in. Azathi had been a customer of the Two Headed Dog way before Michael ever inherited the bar. He was tall, very tall, and lean, with a black mop of hair on his head and deep black eyes. Another of his defining features just so happened to be a set of long, curling brown horns that jutted out of his forehead.

Something not advertised outside of the Two Headed Dog is the unusual customers and clients that visit the bar. The small hole in the wall joint wasn't a place for those looking to wind down after a long day at the office, or for a much needed girls night out. No, it was no place for humans to mingle in their meaningless lives. It was a place that catered to the damned and those oozing in sin. It was bar for those who haunted the shadows. Demons and monsters called this bar theirs.

“Whatever you say, Az.” Michael shook his head at the inhuman being currently lingering in his bar.

While Michael continued to prep for opening, the sound of pittering feet came to his ears. The bar owner looked to the left of the bar counter where a door soon started to open slowly.

“Angel, your supposed to be getting ready for bed.” Michael said sternly as the door fully opened. On the other side stood his little girl. Angel was Michael's daughter, she was seven, and the shining light in his life. When tending to a bar full of the damned, being able to care for his little girl and give her a better life made it all worth it.

“But I already brushed my teeth, and said goodnight to mama.” The little girl answered while looking up at her father with her big doe eyes. Michael sighed, and nodded his head.

“Alright, I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you in, so just head on up to bed.” The little girl smiled and rushed back up the stairs. Once again Michael was reminded how much the bar provided for him. Above the establishment was a small, but cozy apartment. The place had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and kitchen. It was just enough for the little family.

“I’ll be right back, Az.” The demon muttered a reply and Michael headed upstairs. For a single father, the apartment was actually nicely decorated. But that had a lot to do with his late wife. She was an amazing woman, who held his heart in her hands. But a year after the birth of their daughter, she got sick. The doctors said it was ovarian cancer, something that happened in 1 in every 78 women. She went quick, leaving Michael with very little time to get her some sort of help.

With his wife gone, Michael was left on his own to raise their daughter. So he put all his effort into just that, doing everything in his power to give Angel the best life he could. That meant keeping her out of the bar during business hours. Azathi and one other sin filled demon were the only ones who had ever had contact with the little human girl; and Michael planned on keeping it that way.

“Alright Angel, it's time for bed. Did you pick out a story?” The little girl nodded her head and pulled out a thin story book from under her pillow. Michael didn't know why he bothered to ask anymore, he knew what story she wanted him to read to her. It was the same story every time.

On the cover of the thin book was a girl dressed in rags and holding out a hand for a crow flying above her while tears flowed down her face. Michael never got the chance to ask his wife where she got the book, but she had told him once that she wanted their child to have it as it was something she held dear to her heart.

“Once upon a time…” The story started off as any other fairy tale would, but this one was one Micheal had never heard of before his wife had shown him the book. It started off with the sad tale of a young girl, poor and alone, she did what she could to feed herself by cleaning and working odd jobs in the village she lived in. With no parents and no wealth to her name, she had to look only to herself to survive. But as the story progressed, winter came to her village. The cold was deadly when you were alone. Until one day, the starving and cold girl came upon a crow. The bird looked to have gotten on the wrong side of something much bigger than itself. So the young girl took the crow to her small home and did what it could to nurse it back to health with what little she had.

She laid the injured creature beside the dying embers in her fire place and wrapped it gently in what rags she used to keep warm. Then she laid herself beside it and promised to find it something to eat in the morning. So with the hope of sharing whatever warmth and comfort the young girl could offer, she slept through the night. The next morning the girl awoke to find the crow had died in the night. So, with her heart full of sorrow, she cried. The young girl wept fat tears and told the now dead bird how sorry she was that she couldn't help him.

“Please forgive me dear crow. I wish I could have done more.” She wept as keeled before the cold body of the bird she thought she could save. But as her tears sank into onyx feathers, the creature began to twitch. Slowly, with each tear she cried the once unmoving animal came to life. Soon, before her stood the crow, as if it had never been injured, or in fact dead.

With a shrill “CAW”, the bird caught the attention of the young girl. That morning everything changed for the girl. Soon the village heard of her story with the crow and word traveled fast that a girl with magic tears could heal the injured and even bring back the dead.

Unfortunately the rest of the story had been ripped out of the book long before Angel had been born and the true ending was never really known by Michael or his late wife. But Michael had the bright idea to have his wife fill in the blank ending with her own.

On white paper placed in the back of the book in his wife's writing was the end of the book. The young girl was sought after by many, but none more than the king of a far off land who wanted her to become about of his kingdom. To make this happen the king offered his only son the chance to marry her. So with her crow perched on her shoulder the young girl found herself in a grand kingdom, standing before a grand king and his handsome son, a prince.

Micheal had once asked his wife why the story had to have a prince in it, and she told him matter factly that all fairy tales should end with a happily ever after between a prince and a princess. Michael later told her that it was just lazy writing and she proceed to add his name as the fool in the kings circle.

“So in the end, the young girl and prince from a far off land lived happily ever after.” Michael finished. The single father looked over at his sleeping daughter, she no doubt fell asleep somewhere in the beginning of the story, but Michael always found himself reading the fairy tale to very end every night.

As quietly as he could, he left his little girl to sleep in the safety and comfort of her bed, while he made his way down stairs. Down to a bar that was slowly filling up as patrons walked in from the cold dirty street outside. But instead of shedding their coats and outerwear, they shed those pesky human forms they were forced to wear out among the people. Here, at the Two Headed Dog, they were free to conduct business and enjoy a drink outside the confines of human skins.

Because that's what the Two Headed Dog was, a bar that serves those who feast in the shadows off human fear. Demons and monsters who find the destructive nature of humans to be there most pleasing qualities. But, to Micheal, they were paying customers, dangerous, but paying.

#writing two headed dog creative welcome to the writing corner

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evillittlebirdie · 6 years

Note

Malec prompt: Alec referring to Magnus as 'family'? :)

AlternativeUniverse-Human, Christmas

Alec’s parents indulged in the Christmas tradition if onlyfor appearances. Growing up, there was no ‘decorating the Christmas treetogether’. Alec, Izzy and Jace would wake up to find the incredibly tall andperfectly designed Christmas tree sitting in the living room. And they wereabsolutely not allowed to touch it. There was no baking of Christmas cookies orvisits to see Santa or watching Christmas specials together. Robert wouldsomehow be on a business trip every year in Central Europe. At the very best,the only indication that Christmas happened was the fact that the siblings andMayrse sat down to an incredibly tense, but remarkably delicious, Christmasdinner. Alec had no idea what going to a job interview felt like, but he had afeeling that it was not quite different from his mother grilling him about hisgrades and extracurricular activities. When he left home for college, it wasnot different.

This year, Alec was hoping it was going to change.

Alec had met Magnus during his sophomore year of college.Izzy, who dragged him out of his dorm one weekend night, introduced the two ata club. Magnus was a few years older than Alec and making his way through law school.He exerted a confidence that Alec was envious over. The attraction was mutual.Alec, who was struggling with his sexuality, attempted to muffle thosefeelings. He had come out of the closet to his family. His siblings acceptedhim with no conditions. Robert had stopped speaking to him, but consideringthat he more or less said five sentences to Alec per year, Alec had not quitenoticed the difference. Mayrese accepted it as a ‘phase’ and that he would ‘growout of it after college’.

Magnus had been together for ten months by the time Decembercame. Alec had asked Magnus if he was going home for Christmas. Magnus hadawkwardly laughed before explaining that he wasn’t. That was how Alec found outthat Magnus’s biological father walked out, his mother committed suicide, hisstepfather tried to kill him and he had been raised by a series of fosterfamilies. While his last foster family was decent to him, Magnus insisted thathe had not imposed on them during the holidays. Ever since he left for college,he stayed in city at his apartment with his cat for company.

Well, Alec was not going to stand for that.

“You’re coming home with me,” Alec ordered, much to Magnus’samusement. Magnus accepted the offer. Later that night, when Magnus was asleepin his bed and Alec was dozing off, he realized something.

Alec had invited Magnus home for Christmas and Mayrese didnot even know he had a boyfriend.

“Izzy, what do I do?” Alec whispered into his phone. He hadcalled his sister after locking himself in the bathroom, “If I call, Mom isgoing to say no. And I can’t tell Magnus he can’t come anymore. It’ll crushhim.”

“Easy,” Izzy yawned into the phone. Alec had woken her up toexplain his current situation, “Jace is bringing home Clary to meet Mom. TellMom you’re bringing someone home, too. Just show up with Magnus. She’s cold,but she’s not evil. She won’t throw Magnus out. She’ll bitch at you behindclosed doors, but Magnus won’t be the wiser.”

It was an incredibly terrible idea, but it was the best Alechad.

He had called his mother the next day to let her know thathe was bringing home ‘someone’. Maryse insisted on details and Alec was carefulnot to give too many details. He kepthis description of Magnus gender neutral. Maryse sounded pleased and told Alecthat she was looking forward to meeting ‘her’. Alec did not correct her.

So, feeling as though his heart was going to implode, Alectook Magnus home for the holidays. Magnus had looked around at the decoratedhome with interest as he took off his coat. Alec took it from him to put it onthe coatrack. He could heart his mother, Izzy, Jace and Clary talking in theliving room. There was no use in putting this off any longer.

“Alexander? Is there any particular reason that you’retrying to crush my hand?” Magnus asked. Alec then realized that he had reachedfor his boyfriend in an effort to soothe himself. Alec looked over at Magnusand swallowed loudly.

“I’m just…nervous…” Alec admitted. Magnus looked at him withsuch loving affection that Alec could feel his heart beat slow. Magnus placedhis free hand to Alec’s cheek and leaned up to kiss him.

“Don’t be,” Magnus murmured, “Everyone loves me…”

“How could they not?” Alec whispered back, moving his handover Magnus’s back, pulling him into a tight embrace. After a few moments, hepulled himself from the hug and walked with Magnus into the living room.

Maryse looked like a queen sitting before her court as shesat in the tall, leatherback chair by the fireplace. Clary and Jace weresitting on one of the couches and Izzy was sitting next to her mother. Thetalking stopped when Magnus and Alec walked in.

While Clary, Jace and Izzy greeted Magnus and Alec with warmand happy words, Maryse’s face went through confusion, realization, and subtleoutrage in under two seconds. Alec was debating whether it was too late to bailon this entire plan when Magnus approached Maryse and offered her his hand, “Youmust be Alec’s mother. I’m Magnus Bane. It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Lightwood.”

Maryse looked at Magnus’s hand as though it was a poisonous snake.She looked at him up and down, inspecting Magnus’s form. Over the months, Alechad gotten used to Magnus’s fashion sense, but now he was almost overly awareof his fashionable clothes, collection of jewelry and piercings, and artfullydone make up.

“Alec, can I speak to you?” Maryse asked as she looked awayfrom Magnus and to her son. Alec’s siblings and Clary were looking at eachother before they looked at Magnus with sympathy. At this point Magnus hadlowered his hand and looked at Alec with confusion and concern in his eyes.

Alec swallowed again, wondering if some unseen force couldjust strike him down rather than making him talk to his mother about Magnus.Instead, he forced the words out of his mouth, “Anything you want to say to me,you can say here. We’re all family, including Magnus.”

He hoped that he was calling his mother on a bluff, becausehe could not stand the idea of her humiliating Magnus in front of everyone. Marysepursed her lips and looked at Magnus again, “It’s lovely to meet you, Magnus.”

It was not much, but it was a start. Alec sat down on thecouch and Magnus sat down next to him. Alec could feel his mother’s eyes on himeven as Jace and Izzy made an effort to start the conversation again. Alecwrapped his arm around Magnus’s shoulders, watching as his boyfriend pulled outhis phone. Wondering why Magnus was playing with his phone, Alec got his answerwhen he felt his own phone vibrate. Alec waited for a discreet moment whenMaryse’s eyes were off him before he took out his phone.

‘Was it true what you said? I’m family?”

Alec glanced over at Magnus who was looking at Alec withworry in his eyes. Alec nodded, relieved when Magnus smiled at him.

Maybe the rest of this visit would not go as planned, butAlec didn’t care. As long as Magnus knew where he stood, Alec did not care whatMaryse thought.

#asks #magnus bane #alexander lightwood #malec #writing prompts

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