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mrs-march-ahs · 3 years

Note

how the evans would act when they have a crush on u ^^

How The Evans Act When They Have A Crush On You & How They React When You Tell Them You Like Them Too

Award for the longest title goes tooooo... me!

JAMES SUCKS BUT I MAKE UP FOR IT BY DOING BOTH KYLE’S AND A DETAILED KIT

Two other requests-

Could I please request how the Evans would react to their best friend (reader) admitting they're in love with them?

Heyo! I’m not sure how this would go but how would the Evan’s react to a nervous/insecure reader confessing to them?

-I hope this is satisfactory, even though I don’t think it’s what you two wanted<3

Enjoy! :)

Tate

-Would always just be interested in you

-Wanting to help you, watch you, talk to you, just constantly be around you

-But he’d also be insecure whether he was annoying you, so occasionally he would make himself invisible and just watch you

-Whatever hobbies you had, he’d love to watch you do them, paint, draw, write, play games

-If you played any instrument he would love to lay on your bed and listen to you, no matter how good or bad you were

-He would leave little sweet messages on the chalkboard and leave little post-it notes for you to find

-They would have fun little facts about birds or other trivial stuff but you would find them cute

-The occasional fact about something romantic, like ‘Every time you kiss somebody, your heart beat increases by 10-15 beats per minute’

-He might go a little far and leave a message like ‘Your dress looked pretty’, which you would find creepy since you didn’t know Tate was a ghost

Kit

-He thought of ways to tell you how he felt but because it seemed like your family was gonna live in the murder house for a while, cause you were all settling in well, he didn’t want to risk losing his friendship with you, since you were the only ghost with whom he really got along

-You walked down to the basement and said his name in a sing song voice, “Tateeeee”, “Come out come out wherever you are!”

-He showed up and you asked him if he wanted to go out on a real date

-He was obviously nervous, because you didn’t know yet that he was a ghost, but when he hesitated and you looked upset, he said yes right away

-You ran up and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, making him blush and laugh, and whilst you were at school, he got some things ready and got candles and a table cover so make your kitchen look like a restaurant

-He ordered McDonalds delivery and got your chicken nuggets under a serving platter for effect

- “We are dining on, nuggets of the chicken”

-Although you were a little disappointed and wanted to go out on a real date with him, you found his effort cute

-He definitely played footsie with you under the table the whole date

-Definitely walked you to your room

- “Well… this is me…”

- “Just wanted to make sure you got home safe”

-Kissed you

oh my god I got so carried away

-You would first meet Kit when you first come and move to Massachusetts

-One day you want to venture out and get an taxi to go to town, only a few minutes later to realise you don’t have your wallet

-You awkwardly tell the driver that if takes you back home quickly, you can get money and you will pay him right away

-But since Boston men aren’t usually so sweet, he just kicks you out, leaving you to wander the motorway alone late at night, far away from your home and hoping to quickly find somewhere to go

-Eventually you stumble upon a gas station, and as you walk up, a hand appearing on your shoulder makes you automatically turn around and push whoever touched you to the ground

-The man in blue uniform gets up slowly with his hands up defensively, “Hey hey, didn’t mean to startle ya, miss”

-You apologise, feeling stupid for this kind of encounter, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much as you’d think

- “It’s always nice to see a woman able to protect herself”, he smiles

-He offers to drive you home, and you thank him dearly, explaining to him that you don’t have a car yet, having only just moved here

-He offers to take you to buy one, knowing an awful lot about cars, and to convince you further, tells you that any man working in a car salon will try to sell a single lady a piece of junk for a high price

-You agree, thinking that the offer is sweet, and he takes you to buy yourself a car, to make the date even more fun, Kit tells you to pretend you’re an old married couple

- “Miss Walka over here needs a car, good Sir”

-At some point while looking at cars, Kit holds your hand and you don’t even notice

-He negotiates a good deal with the salesman, and you get a car together

- “Your husband just got you an awfully good deal, Madam, he’s a man who deserves a good meal and a cold beer if I’ve ever seen one”, the salesman laughs, signing the last of the papers before handing Kit the keys to your car. “Oh, he’ll get more than that”, you say to tease Kit, before smiling at him sweetly. Kit blinks at you, before turning back to the salesman and shaking his hand. As the two of you walk away, Kit looks at you in disbelief, the thought of your dirty words clearly plastered in his mind. “Did ya mean what you said back there?”. He says, as he opens the car door for you. “Whatever do you mean?”, you act stupid. “I was just pretending to be your wife, Mr Walka”

-When he has a crush on you, he gives you sooo many compliments

-Little dirty innuendos

-Would definitely call you and talk to you late night on the phone until one of you fell asleep (house phone if they had them)

-He’s the kind of person to tell you that he got a visit from a cute dog earlier at the gas station and it made him think of you

Kyle

-Every time you go to get gas from Kit, he gives you only a little amount, so you have a reason to keep coming back

-One time when you go get gas from him, you forget your wallet again, and he teases you about it

-He lets you off and pays for your gas

- “I owe you, Mr Walka”

- “How about a date?”

-You smile at how confident he is, and nod excitedly, having been waiting for him to ask you for a while now

-Kit winks at you and waves as you drive off, completely melted inside about finally getting his girl

-Even though he’s always confident, he’s still a little shy and awkward around you when he sees you in class

-If all of his friends are in a class messing around, throwing stuff, being loud, and you walk it, he tells everybody to shut up because there’s a lady present

- “Hey careful, make sure you don’t throw it at her”

-It’s not until he sees you at a huge party, that he’s confident enough to go up to you

-Even though he’s more than happy to flirt, he’s just not confident enough to do that last step and ask you out somewhere

-He’ll bring you a drink and talk and flirt with you, and you’ll definitely get the hint

-He slowly lifts his arm up and stretches it over you, trying to do the classic yawn move, hoping you won’t notice or mind. You look over at him and narrow your eyes in fake suspicion.

- “Didn’t you come here with a movie star? Surely you get handsome men bringing you drinks all the time?”, he says, motioning to the drink in your hand.

“You calling yourself handsome?”, you tease him. Kyle laughs a breathy awkward laugh and nods. “Well yeah”

-When you do ask him for a date, he insists that he take the initiative to plan what you two do

-Clearly wanting to make a good first impression, he’d take you somewhere interesting

-Aquarium, in which he’ll make up clearly fake facts about the fish just to make you laugh

-Bowling, just so he can tease you about how much you suck

-Mini golf, so, even though you know how to play, he can wrap his arms around you and help you put

-And if he does take you to the movies, you aren’t spending a dime

-He’ll also wrap his arm around you not-so subtly

Franken Kyle

“Whatcha doin there, hm?”. Kyle leans into your ear and whispers.

“Just in case you get scared, you can cuddle up to me”

“Kyle we’re watching the Lego movie”

Jimmy

-You’re a witch at the academy, and with Kyle’s very slow progress to getting better, both Zoe and Madison are getting slightly tired of having to constantly take care of him

-But you don’t mind, finding his Frankenstein state cute

-Whenever he stumbles into the kitchen by himself you always help him make food

-If he’s ever struggling with anything, he usually comes to you, knowing you’re the most patient out of them all

-Then, one night, all the teens in the academy go to a party, while you lay in bed

-But when the rain starts to get really heavy and the first thunder growls, Kyle rushes into your room, before slowly knowing and peaking his head out, clearly scared

-You let him come and lay with you, rubbing his back to calm him down

-Although no real words are spoken, it’s from that moment that you decide to take on all responsibilities relating to Kyle, the good and the bad

-He’s admired you from afar for a very long time, ever since the first time you joined the circus

-You were incredibly flexible, and always showing off to everyone and practicing on stage

-He would always come and watch you practice, cheering you on more than anybody else

-You called Jimmy ‘my cheerleader’

-It made him blush every time

-Amazon Eve always told him to just ask you for dinner, but the only thing that stopped him was the thought that you wouldn’t want to go out and be seen with a freak like him, especially since your body looked so normal that you didn’t have to hide anything

-Eve and Paul reminded Jimmy that it’s him who’s always the most confident in going out into the real world, and he mustn’t be scared

-When they all plan to go to a diner together, as a protest to being shunned from society, you find his leadership charming and happily go with them

-Even though you all get kicked out, you calm Jimmy down and take care of him when his dad beats him up

James

-You wipe the scars on his face and tell him how brave you think he is

- Trying to gain confidence, you take a deep breath before making the move. “Maybe the two of us should go to that diner”. Jimmy looks up at you, as if he expects you to keep talking. When the nerves hit you all at once, you begin rambling. “You know cause if the two of us go and they’re okay with that then maybe we can start going with the others one by one, and then you know we’ll ease our way back into society and stuff”. You laugh a breathy laugh, but Jimmy says nothing. With every silent second passing, your heart begins to break. But luckily for you, Jimmy speaks up. “Wait, are you asking me out? Like… on a date? To the diner?”. “What if I were?”, you quietly reply. He smiles wide and pulls you closer to him, “I’d love that”.

-James is definitely the least subtle

-Constantly giving you compliments, kisses and gifts

-Opening every door for you and listening very carefully to everything you say

-He doesn’t want you to even think about another man, so he overwhelms you with every way he can show you he likes you

-I can imagine him organising a big ball or event at the hotel just so the two of you can dress up and go together

-He is also the most confident out of them all, although he is a softie around you, he has no trouble asking you anything he wants to you

-He’ll kiss your hand a lot and you’ll eventually get the hint

Kai

- “I would be most delighted if we were to make our relationship more official, and vow fully loyalty to one another”

-You agree and he is over the moon

-Once the two of you are in a relationship, the compliments, kisses and gifts don’t stop

-He will give you your space without him, but when the two of you are in the same room together, he treats your precious time together as if it’s sacred

-He will approximately 43 seconds into your relationship begin planning how he’s gonna kill you

-You can tell Kai likes you when he’s harsher on you than he is on other members of the cult

-He’ll be pissed at you for being a distraction for him

-He’ll definitely tell you when he’s impressed with you, when you murdered somebody or helped him plan something

-Even though he definitely would not want it

-If you proved to be smarter than him in any aspect, he’d be furious

-You’d be sat on his sofa while he’s talking to you about having to kill Sally because she’s getting in the way of him winning city council

- “Samuels looked at where she lives, and it has no back doors, no nothing, it’ll be impossible to get in her house without smashing windows and causing attention”

“Why don’t you get Ally to go to her first? If Meadow convinces her to go to Sally to talk about the cult, then the front door will be open”. Kai looks at you with angry eyebrows. “We’ll sit in the car and wait for a few seconds, she’ll let Ally in, won’t lock the door straight after her, and then let them talk for a minute before we just walk right in”

-His ego won’t let him take suggestions from somebody below him, so even though he wants to be proud of you for being smart, he’s mad

-He’ll sit for hooours trying to think of any other solution he physically can think of, to not go with what you suggested

-Around the cult, he’d treat you like everybody else though

- “Y/N’s idea was brilliant, Ally just walked in and they walked straight to sit down, she didn’t lock the door”

-He’d praise you to encourage you to think of ideas, which he would later be mad that you have

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

-You’d find out how he felt about you during pinky power

-After being suspicious that he may have feelings for you for a while, you realised this is the only way to truly find out how he feels without him trying to manipulate you

-He’d ask you about something deep, and you’d latch on after he finishes a sentence to ask him your question

- “I have a question for you”

“Go ahead”

“How do you feel about me?”

Kai stays silent and continues to look you in the eye, taken aback by the question but not wanting to show it.

“When you’re with me, how do you feel?”

“I think you have real potential, you’re strong-”

“I’m not asking the Divine Ruler, I’m asking Kai, Kai Anderson”

He takes a deep breath before unintentionally breaking eye contact for a few seconds to think. You wait anxiously for the answer, and with every second passing you know what it will be.

“You’re special”, he starts, looking you in the eye again. “You’re valuable to the group, and to me. And I think you’d be a great… mother”. The last catches you off guard, not expecting Kai to be a family man or to think about this with you.

“You… you want me to… have your children?”

“I think our children would be indestructible, strong, powerful, decisive. They would be the seed of the better future”. Although it was a little forward for somebody you’ve never even kissed, you were beyond flattered, knowing how specific Kai is with traits in people.

“Let’s make a baby”, Kai says.

“Whoa whoa”, you laugh and unlink your pinky with his. “We’re not even dating, Kai”

“Why date if children is the ultimate purpose?”

“Then don’t look at is as dating… look at it… as getting to know the mother of your future children”

-Kai would love this and you’d soon end up dating

-And have like 6 kids

@milly-louise @amourtentiaa @kitwalker02 @tatestripedsweater @therenlover @maria-akira @tatesimper @thxc0untessesgl0ve @mossybank @ahsxual @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan @kitwalkerangel @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt @blackbat2020@elaineygrace @kaiandersonskoolaid @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash

As usual, if you wanted to be added or taken away, dm me or comment!! I won’t mind! <3

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

Sacrificial Bride Part 1//Twisted Wonderland X Reader//

Alright well, that's enough writing for the next few days if you excuse me I'm going to go sulk in my corner. Huge thanks to @softyswork who’s story about reader being sent to Malleus as a bride inspired this series. Also, I REALLY want to make some sort of modern-day Frankenstein it would be an amazing scientific breakthrough! You'll understand what I mean when you get to Idia's part lol.

💚🐉Malleus Draconia🐉💚

It was a common rumor around your village that ever since the death of the sleeping princess your settlement had never been the same. For you, this was nothing more than a fairy tale meant to spark a scrap of hope in the hearts of naive, suffering children who were still too young to fully understand why their fathers never returned from their hunting trips or why there was barely anything to eat for dinner.

Every time you heard this dreaded tail, you couldn't help but scuff. For as long as you've been alive your town had been in utter disarray and chaos. Monsters from the woods -what the town's folk called "fae"- attacked the village daily. Stealing jewels, destroying homes, sometimes even swallowing children or sucking the blood of the dormant. There was also the looming threat of the green flames. Blazing emerald fires who couldn't be subdued by neither water nor dirt. They advanced further into the territory of the village by each full cycle of the moon. Leaving behind in their trail, thick impenetrable thorn bushes that had taken the homes of many and the lives of many more.

Awful, dreaded creatures those fae where...

But alas you did not yet know just how cruel they could be.

On another periodic morning, your younger sister jolted you awake, dragging you to the town center before you got a chance to change out of your nightgown.

In the center of the square was short man..no...not a man you noticed his pointed drawn back ears. "Fae" you gasped under your breath. But unlike the monstrous fairies that ravished your town taking on the appearances of trees and woodland creatures, this one resembled a boy of 15. The young-looking male began to speak, his voice was clear like crystals, and to his tone bats began to flock overhead. "Truly dreadful, these fairy folk are" your sister uttered in terror as she buried her face in your side.

"Heed my words, mortals. The young prince of thorns has decided to take a wife. By the setting of the sun a full day from today, two of his guards will come to collect your offering. If you chose to disregard this Wa-- friendly advice, then what is left of your town will be decimated before the end of summer. Your children eaten, wives imprisoned and husbands killed!" An unsteady hush rippled through the crowd. Some hothead youths began to throw rocks at the stranger only for the bats hovering above to shield him from the stones. Mothers hugged their children close begging for the man to "just leave".

"If" the man's voice rose once more like a cadaver emerging from the grave " my young master is pleased with your sacrifice than we shall reward you! Bring good health and prosperity to your otherwise sick and decaying village." His last words melted into the open air before he vanished in a cloud of squealing bats and ebony smoke.

The town's folk erupted in screeches, cursing at their deities while simultaneously praying to any god that would listen.

"Help us!"

"save us!"

"Don't let them take our daughters!"

The screams escalated to the point where you had to cover your ears with your shaking hands. Your eyes scanning each of the villager's faces, a pathetic lot they were, you thought to yourself. Scared by the words of a young magician. In a flash, your heart sped up, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as you marched to the center square where the boy had been mere moments ago. You stood tall, cupping your hands over your mouth.

"Listen well you disquiet, mindless lot!"

All eyes turned to you. Some holding looks of confusion, whilst others harbored glances of hope.

"This fae is lying! No way will they be satisfied with just one measly girl! No matter who we sacrifice to their so-called master, they'll still come after us! They'll still destroy our village! Let's not be stupid! Let's find a way to barricade the city instead of arguing over who to sacrifice!"

For an endless second all was quite. It was like the world had stopped turning, frozen in its place in the universe trying to decide what to do.

Then it happened,

Chants reverberating through the air

"Sacrifice her!" "Sacrifice her!"

"Sacrifice her!"........................

WHAT!

NO!

DID THOSE MORONS NOT LISTEN TO A SINGLE WORD YOU SAID!

The crowd started advancing. Eyes locked on your figure like those of a leopard on its prey. Their mouths were all a gap, chanting the words "sacrifice" over and over again. From behind the mob, your eyes locked with your sister's. You could practically feel the despair rolling off her figure as she covered her eyes and fell to her knees, her whole body rattling with a sort of distant rage...

A full day....it's funny how time passes all so quickly no matter what you do. Day in and day out nothing changes, pain is still pain, laughter is still laughter. Time just keeps slipping from between your fingers like sand. Even in the direst of times, Time doesn't show mercy, never once does it cease. It just ticks and ticks away until the inevitable moment arrives.

Your sister and aunt -the only two relatives that you hadn't lost to the fae- were in charge of preparing you for your so-called "wedding". Since your town was poor and isolated from other civilizations there wasn't much they could do to enhance your beauty. Smashing some berries to add color to your lips -and fervently ravishing the remains- using some coal to add shade behind your eyes, as well as around them and patting the dust of rose petals against your cheek. By the end, you hardly recognized the person staring back from the mirror. Sure the adjustments were minor but this was the most stunning you'd ever looked. "Is it almost time" your voice quivered, failing to hide the tears that began to fall. "Please don't cry sweetheart, we don't have any more coal to fix your eyes with." Your aunt's tone was monotone almost bordering on heartless. You couldn't really blame her, she'd gotten so used to having her loved ones plucked from her. One more would be no different. Sniffing as to keep the tears at bay, you nodded slowly. Your glossy eyes locked with your aunt's you could see the same fear and exhaustion in her fading irises as the night her son was slaughtered in front of her.

"Just a few reminders" your sister's voice was cheery like the chirping of early morning birds, but her face mimicked that of a kicked puppies. "Remember when the prince...fae...when he..you know...Oh, Lord please tell me he won't" She was shivering again. Her face twisted in horror. You knew what she was thinking, she was imagining you laying in the bed of that...that thing. She was imagining him entering you, kissing up and down your neck. Leaving patches of red skin over smooth flesh, bruises wherever his clawed hands touched you. She was imagining what was no doubt going to happen to you tonight...

the mere thought made bile rise to your throat.

"Darling, just keep saying how much you like it. It's all any man wants to hear." again your aunt or rather her lackluster form of speech was the rope binding you to your sanity.

"Do fae even have...those parts like humans do?" Your sister asked, only to be met with a glare from your aunt. "Stop wasting time on pointless questions! Hurry up and see if this dress fits your sister."

Sure enough, as you were escorted to where the thorn bushes met the village, two men, one standing tall and proud, whilst the other looked like he may topple over from fatigue at any moment, were awaiting you.

The green-haired man let out a haughty laugh, his blazing eyes scanning you from head to toe. "She's hardly worthy of the young master!" His dreadful voice was like the booming of thunder clouds. "It doesn't matter, Malleus-sama needs to be wedded off quickly so he can produce an heir. None of us are getting any younger by standing here debating the "worthiness" of yet another measly human" the silver-haired male's voice was the exact opposite of his comrades, his voice was soft and breathy like light drizzle after a storm.

The green-haired man looked ready to argue once more, but before he could open his mouth, his violet-eyed counterpart waved something thin in the air casing a pathway to open between the hedges.

It was dark between the brambles. The air was thick, stuffy, every breath was a struggle. Although it seemed neither of your traveling buddies minded the discomfort. Did fae even need air to survive?

After what could have been no less than a couple of hours, your small group made it to a large clearing where only a few rays of the sun leaked through the thick smoky clouds. Miss matched flowers in shades of grey littered the rocky barren ground. Maybe at some point, this place had been beautiful, stunning even...but whenever that time had been it was long gone now.

As you ventured farther into this monochrome land of loss and sorrow, the three of you approached a castle. It towered over everything else, grim in all its glory. "Young master Malleus is awaiting you inside..." The green-haired male's voice trailed off as his speech was interrupted by the deafening creaking of the doors parting open. Without another word the two men dragged you inside, pushing you through spiral staircases and long bleak passageways. Until you arrived at a lavish-looking room, a large throne sitting smugly in the front of the room. It's black, spiked appearance was enough to make you gasp in horror, you didn't desire to meet the monster that perched atop that throne. "Don't be so afraid." the silver-haired man whispers, his head is almost resting on your shoulder. "Malleus-sama is kind and fair. He is sure to love you better than any human ever could." you catch a hint of nostalgic sadness in the last part, like a long lost part of the lavender eyed boy's past caught in his throat like a glass shard.

Trumpets roared through the room blaring as two men, one short and fickle whilst the other tall and brooding walked in. "Malleus~" The short one sang as they both stopped in front of you "Say hello to your lovely new wife." the tall man's emerald eyes landed on you. His lips parted in a threatening smile...or maybe it was a smirk? He didn't seem to be too good at displaying emotions. Slowly he descended onto one knee, slipping your hand into his and kissing the top lightly.

"Hello, my darling little wife."

🧡🦁Leona Kingscholar🦁🧡

The After Glow Savanna was an absolute hell to be born in if your family did not belong to some royal inner court class. The endless days spent scavenging for scraps of food, walking miles for a simple glass of water, had become a sort of broken, habit beaten into the residents of the smaller less fortunate districts.

Eventually, you too would follow in your parent's footsteps, working odd jobs around the neighborhood, getting married to some guy, having kids, and giving them the same dreary life your parents had given you. It was simple -miserable- but simple never the less. In an odd way, you found a sort of comfort in how everything was set in stone. How you'd suffer through a few years then die of starvation or some disease in your husband's arms.

But little did you know that the only comfort you had in your horrible life was also going to be swiped from you.

When Ruggie, a dear childhood friend of yours returned from his prestigious school for the winter holidays you were overjoyed! A week with your best friend was the greatest gift you could ask for! But that excitement soon dulled when he announced to the neighborhood what the royal family had planned for the underdeveloped parts of the country.

"They want to demolish the homes and build parks and shopping strips instead"

The people of your tiny community gasped, shock and hopelessness mixing over their dirty, worn out faces. Some older siblings shielded the ears of their younger kin, some mothers hugged their children closer to their chests. "They can't do that to us!" Your voice was like a beacon through the thick fog of confusion. "We can't let them!" You turned to Ruggie who was seated next to you. His blue-grey eyes held a foreign sadness that you had never seen before. He was hiding something...something so grim that he was forced to shove it into the depths of his soul, locking it up and throwing away the key.

"There is a way..."

For such a hopeful phrase, Ruggie's tone harbored no happiness. You could practically see the tears that were clouding his beautiful eyes. "Tell us" someone from the crowd demanded, others soon joined in with their own chants. For a long moment, Ruggie said nothing, the shouts of despair falling on deaf ears.

"If.." his voice trailed off, as his gaze grew distant.

"If someone from the neighborhood were to marry the second prince..." Gasps of fear filled the air. Even the mere mention of the second prince's name was enough to send chills down people's spins.

"Then they could, as the newly appointed princess, convince the royal family and counsel to scrap this monstrous plan." No one uttered another word. No one was brave enough to face the man who could destroy anything with a simple touch.

But the sake of these people, people who had nothing but their families and a muddy roof over their head was on the line.

Do something, a tiny voice in your head screamed, save them, it begged. You shifted your head so to get a glimpse of Ruggie's face. "I-" you began but were cut off before you could even finish.

"I know you would say that."

His voice broke over every syllable. He knew you would give up your depressing nostalgia for the sake of others. Life in the castle would be hell, being married to that monster would be something worst than the dwellings of the devil.

It was a speedy arrangement, so fast that your head didn't have time to process anything. In the end, it almost seemed like the royal family was desperate to find a spouse for their youngest son.

Just marry him! Was what all the absentee looks told you.

Early that morning, Ruggie had dragged you to the castle, all tears, and grumbles. The palace guards let him in with no restrain, it almost felt like he'd been here before. Your childhood friend led you to a room in the further corner of a grand hall. He told you to stay outside as he went in to chat with the prince. Moments later the newly appointed king and queen came to usher you into a privet room and discuss the marriage. Not an hour later your fate had been sealed, you'd be married off to prince Leona tomorrow at sunrise. For "historical purposes" your neighborhood would be preserved and even taken care of. 'Historical purposes' you thought 'more the like a bribe to get you to marry this beast.

that night you were dragged this way and that by the queen herself. Taken for fitting after fitting. Trying on hundreds of wedding dresses who's prices could feed every mouth in your neighborhood for months! "Leona isn't very classy" the queen sighed in disappear. "He would probably prefer you to be in something laxer, shorter if you will" the tailors ran around trying to find something that would fit her vague description, as you stood facing her royal highness.

"What's he like?" you asked soullessly

"Spoiled, although not as heartless as the rumors make him out to be" She didn't seem to like giving straight answers

"will he harm me? It was an honest question, although the lack of thinking it took before the queen replied made your heart skipped a beat.

"Quite possibly, he is rather...aggressive at times. Just don't let his degrading comments get to you. He's not used to being around people"

The more she described the second-born prince the more it seemed she was actually speaking of some feral dog that had raised in isolation.

Oh, how doomed you were.

The wedding was even faster than the preparation. Ruggie walked you down an aisle of flowers, walking over the petals, killing them once and for all, ending their pointless existence. You stood by your self at the altar awaiting your husband to be. It took a rather long time before the doors were flung open and the king waltzed in carrying his struggling brother under his arm. "No need to worry, Leona was taking one of his catnaps again and forgot about today's events" the king announced, in what could only be described as a mock lively tone.

How on earth does someone forget their wedding! This prince really wasn't a typical human...heck you where beginning to think that the feral dog would have made a better groom.

snap, snap

A few magazine pictures here, a couple of family photos there...

Everything was so bright and loud...

right before you and the second prince were thrown into the darkness of his room. In the obscurity, you could ONLY make out the glowing of his emerald eyes.

You could feel him shifting closer, all the while you took shaking steps backwards. " I thought wives were supposed to leap into the arms of their husbands? Tell me little herbivore do I frighten you?"

Your voice refused to leave your throat, too afraid to come into contact with the prince.

"What's the matter? Did they not teach you to speak in on the streets you grew up on. Poor thing~"

Leona pounced across the room, tackling you to the ground. His sheer weight pinning you to the carpeted floor. The sound of fabric tearing echoed through the silence.

How careless these royal were was the only intelligible thought that came to your frenzied brain.

Goosebumps littered your skin as Leona's claws cut into your flesh. His lips kissed over each wound as he made his way up to your cherry painted lips.

"You look so cute, you know, like a little mouse about to get devoured by a starving lion."

💙💀Idia Shroud💀💙

The rhythm of his heartbeat was slowing down, it felt like the patter of ants atop one's flesh. He was dying...this was an irreversible fact. The love of your life was dying and there was nothing you could do but sit idly by and watch the life fade from his pale bruised face. Your thumb ran over his knuckles in robotic-like strokes. Hours had passed, you'd shed all the tears that you had. He was gone...that was all there was to it.

For a hopeless second, you flicked your eyes to the open window on the opposite side of the room, There was never any sun on the island of lamination but regardless today seemed brighter than any other day. "How cruel" you muttered in a deadpan voice. Outside something...or better yet...someone was running through the fields, chasing what looked like a butterfly. The young child had blazing blue hair a symbol of the Shroud family...

THE SHROUD FAMILY

Your breath hitch in your lungs, your heart began to pound furiously in your chest. They could help you though hopefully. There family where distant relatives of the god of the underworld and a few years back -to your regulation- the hair of the family had been able to semi revive his younger brother. If he was able to bring back a child from the dead than surly they would have no problem returning your lost lover to you.

Your eyes waltz over his dormant face one last time before you got up and ran for the door.

"This is all for you my love, all of this is for you"

The Shroud family mansion was located at the top of one of the many hills that plagued the island. It was a dark grisly building that resembled the castles from old tales, where monsters laid dormant. Rumors spiraled around the rural civilization, some saying that the family was cursed by the lord of the dead, whilst others claimed that the shroud family were the long lost descendants of the lord of the dead and the maiden of spring. The curse had been placed on the family by the temperamental mother of the maiden of spring, anathematizing the family to be plagued with death and disappear for the rest of eternity.

Regardless of what their misfortune was, they may very well be the last people on earth who could help you. Surely if the family had brought back their youngest than they could bring back your lover!

You knuckles tapped furiously at the old metal doors of the frightful residence. The rhythm was unkept, unsteady, it's mere sound radiated urgency.

"PLEASE HELP ME"

Your throat burned as you screamed out those three lousy words.

After what felt like forever, the doors cracked open, revealing a tall man obscured by the shadows. Any light that touched the interior of the house seemed to die acidity, making peering inside nearly impossible.

"What business do you have?" The man's voice was croaky as if his vocal cords hadn't been used in years. For a split second, you closed your eyes, trying to organize the thoughts in your head. "My...my...h-hus...lover, my lover is d-dead...o-or rather he is dying....probably fully gone by now..." despite the mess of stuttered letters and mixed-up words, the man seemed to understand your situation. With a long sigh, he pulled you into the somber house.

Fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist he pulled you around, guiding you through the darkness until you reached a large room lit only by the mysterious blue flames of the fireplace. Sitting by the warmth was a...well it was hard to tell, her face -despite it displaying every bone of her visage coupled with dark sunken eyes- resembled that of a woman no older than thirty, whilst her body resembled a decaying skeleton. What was she? Was she the lady of the residence or yet another monster this bizarre family had created.

"My, love" the man began to speak, his voice was somehow cleared like it had been given some sort of jolt. "This young lady needs Idia's help, she wants to bring back her lover from the dead."

The woman said nothing, her eyes staring ahead, burning a hole in the wall right by your head. "What will she give him in return" despite her "deteriorating" appearance her voice was like soft silk on one's skin, melodious and fair.

"Why herself!" This time the man's voice boomed across the house, echoing through the hallways and falling on you like a cave in.

"M-myself! What the hell do you mean!"

"It sounds fair" the women agreed "my darling sweet son saves your lover and instead you agree to marry him! Oh how wonderful, just like in the tales about grandfather Hades!"

She seemed too thrilled about this, her snow-white eyes gleaming with a sort of delusional passion.

"Idia! Idia honey! Come down your father has a surprise for you!"

The hollow sound of footsteps soon filled the quiet air. Followed by another soft blue glow.

Was there no normal fire in this house?

But it wasn't fire, not exactly. When your eyes fell on the heir of the Shroud family, you suddenly felt a nervous wave crash over you. There was something -even more- unsettling about him, he looked nothing like his charming little brother. For one his hair wasn't...well hair! Sure you'd expect a small batch of blazes heading upwards but this was something else entirely! It resembled a large bonfire that floated towards the ground, rouge sparks falling in every which direction, sizzling and then dying abandoned on the floor. And his eyes, Miosis like pupils floating around in a pool of lemon yellow.

But all the physical appearances aside, the most unsettling thing about him was the gloomy aura that leaked off him, suffocating anyone in his presence. Nervously you took a step back only to be yanked forward again by the taller man.

"Idia baby!" His mother ran over to him, cradling his hands in hers "This cute young lady has agreed to marry you if you can save her lover, just like in that old tale about your great grandfather! Oh, my this is all so romantic!"

It seemed like no one here understood that you were in love WITH SOMEONE ELSE! Or maybe they did and chose to disregard it. Instead, using the bits they retained as kindling to feed their raw excitement. You shifted your gaze back to Idia's face. To your utter terror, he was...smiling? Could that...look...even be called a smile? It seemed more like the way a shark would bare its teeth at a defenseless seal! Oh, gods please don't let this...thing...be your future husband!

"It should be easy enough," His golden gaze landed on you "W-when did...did he die?" it took a few moments before you register that he was talking to you or technically asking you something. "A...A few..." your voice cracked, tears streaming down your eyes.

"So recently...okay that shouldn't be a p-problem." He turned on his heels and walked back into the seclusion of the halls "I'll grab some things and meet you by the front door"

A few things ended up being a pile of wires and bolts. Something that looked like a light blue ball of energy and so many tools whose names seemed to go over your head.

Idia was kneeling by your lover's bed, pulling apart the skin and fusing metal in its place. Your darling's chest was cracked open, his ribs poking out towards the sky as if praying for life from the lord of the sky. Every once in awhile Idia would pull out a long tool with smoke floating from the top. He'd lay it on an organ watching as the tissue fiber sizzled away under the heat. He would then tie wires and small circular batteries inside.

"His heart stopped working, I'm guessing from some sort of shock"

You just hummed in response, too caught up in how the man you loved was beginning to look like a modern-day Frankenstein rather than a human being.

The sun had long since faded when Idia finally got up from his spot. His bones cracked and screeched at the sudden change, his muscles giving out halfway leaving him to rely on the wall for support to stand. Your lover's chest had been sewn back and covered with a silver piece of metal. His neck was wrapped in the same sort of alloy. His left arm had been cut open so Idia could shove the energy ball inside than cover it, leaving a small enough gap for wires that stretched from his chest to weld into the ball.

"He just needs a boost" Idia murmured that shark-like grin overtaking his pale face once more. From the side table, he plucked up to jumper cables and clipped them on either side of his neck. Jolts and crackles filled the room and sparks flew in every direction, the once-dead body shuffled around, arms and legs moving at random. You shrieked and duck behind Idia.

Only then did he pry the clips from his neck.

Nothing

for too long nothing happened... then there was a slight wiggle in one finger, then another. His eyes slowly began to prey open, looking over his surroundings. The moment his confused gaze feel onto you. Idia turned you around to face him, clumsily smashing his blue chapped lips onto yours.

From the corner of his eyes, Idia watched as the other man began to understand what was happening...even if he was just resurrected there was still agony at the sight of his lover kissing another...

Good! That should show him who you belonged to now!

2K notes · View notes

abarbaricyalp · 3 years

Note

handholding- 10/12/13

hugs - 34

kisses - 7/13/27

touching - 47

sambucky :)

Buddies, I literally cannot believe I managed to get all of these done without being too repetitive.

Handholding 10: Happily doing everything with one hand if that means they don't have to let go is already posted on my blog and on AO3: ElisabethMonroe: (til i carry you home) Your Hand in My Hand

Reblogging with AO3 links in a second

Kisses 27: Desperate Kisses

Inhale My Soul

(Listen, listen y'all, you don't know how many different universes of them dying and bleeding out in each other's arms y'all aren't reading here. I didn't do that to you. You're welcome)

Dissolving hadn’t felt like anything. Sam wasn’t sure he even understood what was actually happening. Maybe he’d thought it was just a trick of the reality stone. Maybe human minds weren’t meant to comprehend anything close to what had happened.

Coming back felt like dying.

He woke up on his back and he couldn’t breathe. It was like he had no lungs at all, just a trachea spasming in his throat without air, like a gills with no water. He grasped for the ground and the feeling of dirt was horrifying, a grave waiting to swallow him down into the Earth. The wind was knives on his skin. His suit felt like it was trying to pry his spine from his ribs. His legs ached like someone was trying to stretch the bones on a crank.

He must’ve screamed but there was no air to make a noise.

Finally sight came back and the first thing he saw were the trees falling over him, ready to crush him and hide him again.

Had anyone seen him disappear? No one was by his side. No one looked for him.

No, the trees weren’t falling. They were swaying in the wind. The sun kept gliding down through them with every shuffle of the leaves.

It was so quiet he felt like he could hear the leaves sighing as they grew.

It took him too long to realize the ragged breath that broke the silence like a gunshot came from his own chest. The hands digging his own grave shot to his chest, felt the rise and fall of his ribs and lungs, the proof that he was breathing. He was alive again.

He rolled onto his side and heaved until his ribs creaked, still firmly attached to his spine. There was nothing to come up, but the noise was comforting, the ache that he could name and handle was safe. Human. Living human.

His knees were in his legs when he leaned back on his haunches. They sank into the earth but the grave didn’t swallow him down. No unwilling sacrifice to be taken from him. He brought his dirt covered fingers--firm and whole and attached to him--up to his face. He found his cheeks, a beard with edges that were too straight for a man who had died and been put back together, his teeth. They throbbed in his gums like they were all about to fall out but they were there in his head. His tongue.

He could speak.

“Steve!” he shouted and his throat screamed in protest, the air in his lungs turned to fire. “Steve!” he called again and forced himself to his feet. His boots were tied. His pants were still tucked into them. There was no blood, which seemed wrong. He felt flayed open and left to soak into the ground. How could there be no blood?

“Steve!”

God, if Steve was dead…

Sam couldn’t lose more people. He couldn’t fight his way back. Not after this. Not while everything hurt so fucking much.

“Steve, please, God, where are you?!”

“Sam?”

Sam whirled around at the tired voice. The trees danced in his vision. The grass clutched at his legs, which still felt like they were being stretched out and sunk into the earth. The trees were going to take him over. The grass was going to eat him again. No one was looking. No one would find him. Why wasn’t anyone ever looking for him?

“Sam?” the voice called again.

Footsteps. Crushing grass. A metal screech in the bark of a tree. A colorful curse. “Sam, fuck, shout again!”

Sam stumbled forward, breaking free of the natural world trying to take him away again. He shoved himself away from a tree and crashed into a warm, solid, human body.

“Jesus, Sam,” Bucky breathed and wrapped his arms around Sam tightly. It hurt in the best way. Sam held him back, face hidden in Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t even care about what gore he was smearing all over himself. Bucky’s hand came to the back of Sam’s head and Sam almost expected it to hit exposed brain but it didn’t. Instead his calloused fingers brushed over Sam’s short hair, smoothing over the natural lines and divots in it until goosebumps erupted over Sam’s skin.

Right. Things could feel good. That was part of being human and alive.

He had no idea how long they stood there. His shoulders were aching, but in a pleasant way that reminded him that there was something he loved right in front of him, in his arms.

Bucky was the first to move, stepping back half a step, a quarter of a step, barely any at all, just enough to bring his hands up to either side of Sam’s face. The cheeks and the mouth and the skin that was all there and new again. He tilted Sam’s head back, eyes intense and clear in front of Sam.

Had it not felt the same for him? Was he not grappling with his ridiculously weak claim to existence? Or, fuck, was this how he always felt after being frozen and woken up? Had he been going through this for seventy years with no one to run to? With no one to hold him and remind him that things could feel good?

Sam’s fingers tightened in Bucky’s vest and just as Bucky was starting to say something Sam couldn’t honestly answer--something about how he felt, if anything hurt, if he needed medical attention--Sam hauled him down into a desperate kiss. Their noses smashed together and pain bloomed across Sam’s face, made his eyes water, made him want to sneeze, made him want to lean into it all the more, like the pressed-on-bruise ache of Bucky’s arms around him.

He felt Bucky’s teeth notch a split into Sam’s lip by accident, crushed together with nowhere to go. Finally it softened. Bucky’s mouth pressed against his until Sam felt like he could actually breathe, until he could make his mouth do what he wanted, catch Bucky’s lower lip between both of his, wring out a noise he’d never heard the other man make before. Bucky’s hands on his face kept him close and Sam’s fingers tightened in his vest. He wanted to crawl into Bucky’s chest--felt like, maybe, he could after being unmade and remade. Their noses knocked together again as Sam tried to turn his head, kiss the other side of Bucky’s mouth, let Bucky bruise the rest of his lips.

Bucky pulled away, but didn’t let go of Sam’s face. Cool air flowed into Sam’s lungs until all of his bones and muscles felt like they slotted back into place.

“I can’t tell you how fucking happy I am to see you alive,” Bucky breathed.

We should talk about this. That. Later.

“I thought everyone was gone. I don’t know… I didn’t know how I came back. I thought it was just me.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. There’s hundreds of people. Not everyone, but at least half of us.”

Half of them.

“Oh my God,” Sam said. “Thanos won. He wiped out half of the universe.”

“I think that was us. I think...someone brought us back,” Bucky said. Pain flashed over his face as he looked at Sam and then pulled him in for another kiss. Sam tried to understand a second chance in it, but all he could feel was Bucky and relief and adoration. He wasn’t sure where that one came from more--him or Bucky.

“There’s still a fight,” someone said from behind them. Another magic shithead. Terror clutched at Sam’s chest like magic itself was enough to unmake him again, take him away again. “There’s still a world to save.”

Bucky’s hand found Sam’s between their bodies. Sam took a breath with lungs that almost seemed to work again. “What’re we waiting for then?” he asked.

Kiss 13: Frustrated Kiss

Better Than None

“Barnes, you wanna jump in? Any time’s fine,” Sam called out, though the volume wasn’t actually necessary, since he had an earpiece in and Bucky was only a few feet away, leaned on what was left of a building’s wall.

“Nah, you seem to be handling it just fine,” Bucky called back with a nod.

Sam ducked under the robot arm that had been flung at him. “Barnes, I swear, as soon as I get my hands on you--” he threatened.

“Y’know, normally that gets me going but seein’ as you were so anti-giving me a good luck kiss, I don’t know if I believe you anymore.”

“We don’t have time for this!” Sam threw the shield to cut through seven wire-y necks and caught it at degree 355 of its arc.

“It’s just a kiss. Takes two/tenths of a second,” Bucky said.

“I meant this dumbass argument.” Sam jumped out of the way of an electrical charge and Bucky watched it sail dangerously close to his head.

“Damn, maybe I am lucky without you,” he said and didn’t move at all.

“Bucky,” Sam sighed and ripped the head off of the nearest robot.

“Hot. Wish I could show you my appreciation.”

“How does me not giving you a good luck kiss translate you into not giving me any kisses?”

“It only seems fair. You’re putting my well-being at risk. There should be consequences.”

“That’s not how it works! You’re the one not--” Jesus, he didn’t have time to fall for the bait. He freed a mini-EMP from his utility belt and hurled it at the cluster of robots trying to scale the debris that first responders were using as a barricade to the rest of the street. A few seconds later, the robots fell away, powerless and useless.

“I kind of felt that in my arm,” Bucky said.

Sam growled out a huff and stalked over to Bucky. He shoved the front of the shield against his chest a little roughly and leaned in to kiss him, mostly teeth and irritation. The bastard still looked pleased when Sam pulled away.

“Good luck. Now will you please go do your job?”

Bucky grinned, all teeth and victory, and bolted into action.

Kisses 7: Passionate Kiss

Hand holding 13: Linking hands during s**

Bring Heaven to You

Sam swore he could feel Bucky’s mouth all over him. Every inch of his skin felt electric and alive. Frankenstein’s creature surging to life after a bolt of lightning, every nerve and muscle singing at the same time, overwhelming sensation in the best way. Like a freefall that keep him tethered to the mismatched hands clutching at his hips, his ribs, his chest, his shoulders, his thighs, the backs of his knees. Like Bucky couldn’t decide where he should be shocking Sam back to life either.

Bucky dragged his hand down Sam’s side, flat and steady so Sam could feel the golden band on his finger scorching his skin like it was made of fire. Like vows and rings and heavy promises weren’t enough to prove they belonged to each other, like they needed it written in flesh and blood like everything else about their lives.

Hahahaha, no. The rest is on AO3. Link in the reblog

Hand holding 12: Possessive hand holding

A Green Monster, And No We Don’t Mean The Hulk

“Welcome back to the show, Captain America!” a bubbly, young talk show host greeted. Bucky assumed he’d watched at least a few seconds of the program at some point when he was making it his life mission not to leave his apartment, but he couldn’t place her name for the life of him. “And you brought Mr. Barnes with you!” This she said with much less genuine enthusiasm and didn’t seem all that thrilled to have to look away from Sam to address Bucky.

“Well, you know I can’t stay away too long,” Sam said with a friendly smile. He held out his hand and the host took it in both of hers. It was less a hand shake and more an excuse for her to hang onto Sam, it looked like.

Sam and Bucky sat in the cushy seats for guests and, even though they’d already walked through the staging of this whole farce, Bucky was still deeply tempted to take Sam’s seat so he was between Sam and the host.

“So, Sam, last time we saw each other, you weren’t yet Captain America.”

“Funny how fast things like that can change, right?” Sam asked with twinkling eyes. Bucky wondered if the cameras were bolted down and if he could wrench one free even if they were.

“Well, I think it’s still not soon enough,” the host said and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “You’ve always been Cap to us here. You’ve been so vocal about your mission statement as Captain America, so I won’t make you repeat yourself.” Sam nodded gratefully, though Bucky knew he’d repeat his goals and wishes until he ran out of breath if it meant one more person heard them and got inspired. “So I thought we could focus on what’s going on behind the scenes with you. Has anything else changed for you since you’ve been back?”

As if coming back to life wasn’t enough.

“Oh, definitely,” Sam said. “Buck and I just finished flipping a house down by my sister. Y’know, we got decent temporary accommodations--Buck still has his in New York--and staying with my sister again was nice, but there’s nothing like having a house to come home to that’s just ours. No pre-teens stealing all the food outta the fridge immediately after grocery shopping.”

The host laughed along with Sam, though her eyes couldn’t quite keep from flickering to Bucky. “It’s fun that you’re rooming with Mr. Barnes. Does it feel like having college roommates again?”

Sam frowned, opened his mouth to answer, ran through a bunch of diplomatic ways to say what should’ve been obvious but wasn’t because this lady was into Sam. Which, like, Bucky couldn’t blame her for. But he was anyway.

He reached over to grab Sam’s hand where it was picking at a loose thread in his pants. “Actually, it’s more like just living with a partner,” he answered for Sam. “That’s something else that’s changed too, huh?” he directed at Sam. “Turns out, with consistent showers and therapy, he thinks I’m pretty charming.”

Sam frowned again and scoffed. “No, I do not. That hasn’t changed.”

The host laughed again, forced but a decent show anyway. “Sure, we all love a good bromance,” she said.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up.

“Don’t,” Sam warned.

“It’s a lot like a bromance, yeah. Just without the B,” Bucky said. “We kind of figured my name had enough Bs to last us for a while.”

“Sam, are you saying--”

Sam sighed and brought his other hand up to the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately. And, yeah, he’s always like this. Some kinda puffed up bulldog or something.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened around Sam’s. “You’re my partner. I’m allowed to tell people that.”

“You don’t ever stop telling people.”

“Can’t blame him,” the host pointed out. Okay, maybe some of the hostility was misplaced, Bucky thought. Only some of it. “How did we not know about this, Cap?” she asked jovially, though Bucky thought she was still a little upset.

Sam shrugged. “Guess it’s not as exciting as superheroing. And cameras keep ending up destroyed,” he added pointedly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the accusation. “Half the places we go could be classified as an active war zone. It’s not always on me that media cameras get crushed under debris or aliens or something.”

“Every single one that catches you touching my face?”

Bucky shrugged.

“So...how long has this been a thing?” the host asked.

“Since before Sam took the shield. It’s actually a package deal. If you want the shield, you have to have me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and let out another long suffering sigh. “I’m sorry he’s ruining this interview.”

“Oh, no, I’m about to win an investigative journalism prize, I think,” the host laughed.

“I don’t know how investigative it is when your subject is physically incapable of shutting up,” Sam said, looking over at Bucky with a glare and the smallest pout that made Bucky want to kiss it off of his face.

So he did, holding their interlaced fingers next to their face to hide from the cameras at least a little bit.

Hugging 34: Hugging while grabbing butt

Get Sprung

(Man, I meant to put this in the fr@ story and forgot :/ )

The building came down faster than Sam expected it to. He supposed well placed explosives would do that. What happened to uncertain, uneven dynamite? Why was everything electrical and precise nowadays?

He had no idea how Bucky managed to get Sam and the shield bundled in his arms before the ceiling came down. He didn’t know how Bucky had managed to kick a piece of wall upright and then locked his metal arm to hold the shield in place above them. He had no idea how Bucky knew it’d make the perfect alcove for them. For someone who pretended not to know what math was when AJ asked for help on homework, he was very calculation savvy.

Bucky slowly freed his arm from the straps of the shield. The rubble shifted a little, pressed a little closer, and then stilled again. They both let out a small breath. There wasn’t enough room to lay out totally, or to stand fully, but they weren’t being crushed. Bucky’s arm joined the other around Sam’s waist. Sam dropped his face to Bucky’s shoulder and let Bucky’s pulse drum against his cheek for a second.

“Are you grabbing my ass?” he finally asked and Bucky coughed out a startled laugh.

“Yeah, you better hope it’s me and not some darkness monster.”

“Couldn’t blame the monster if it was,” Sam said.

“I gotta make sure it’s still there. Would be a shame to lose America’s ass, y’know.”

Sam shook his head and pulled away from Bucky enough to light up his wristlets. He shook them off and rested them on pieces of concrete and rebar to light the space.

Bucky sank down to the ground, legs bent a little to accommodate the space and Sam followed him down, settling between his legs.

“So, now we wait, huh?” he said, reaching for Bucky’s hands to tangle their fingers together.

“Guess we gotta,” Bucky agreed. “Are you hurt?”

Sam shook his head. There was still a ringing in his ears from the explosion and he was sore from Bucky tackling him out of the way, but nothing felt crushed or cut or broken. “You?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said and then let out a breath at Sam’s arched brow. “I mean it. I’m not playing tough or anything. We got lucky. It came down on us, not sideways into us. I think there’s something lodged between the plates in my arm, but I don’t want you to do anything about it until we’re safe. It’s functional right now. I don’t need to be down an arm if we have to dig out.”

“We’re not gonna have to dig out,” Sam said. “Torres’ll track Redwing to us.”

“How’s your dumb robot?”

Sam reached for a wristlet and navigated to the Redwing menu. “Operational. Some exterior dinging, but nothing serious. He’ll be functional if we need.” Sam set the wristlet aside again and sighed. “Fuck, that was close, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. C’mere,” Bucky said, opening his arms. Sam shifted forward on his knees and leaned against Bucky’s chest, hugging him close. “‘M glad you’re okay,” Bucky murmured, lips brushing Sam’s temple.

Sam nodded and rubbed Bucky’s waist for a second. “Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re grabbing my ass again.”

“I know.”

“Alright.”

Touch 47: Touching their elbow to get their attention

Quiet Birds Circling in Flight

(Jeez, the only thing that came to mind for ages on this prompt involved a spaceship but these men have SEEN aliens and spaceships so that’s not as fun :(((((( )

Sam stood outside the cenotaph long after everyone else had left the service. And that was quite the feat in and of itself. It felt like the mourning could go on for years. There’d been enough tears around him that he wasn’t sure what his own would add to the spectacle.

To everyone else, the cenotaph was a mausoleum. But Sam had been next to Bucky when he told the military to quietly bury him in the cemetery where his parents were both buried. “You know,” Bucky had said one afternoon while they watched the cenotaph being built stone by stone, engraving by engraving, “I’d wager that most mausoleums are just cenotaphs. Grave robbing and reactions to grave robbing mean probably everyone just got moved somewhere safer.”

“Plus decomposition.”

“Well, shit, Wilson. When do you stop being you after death? When does dirt become dirt again? When isn’t it your resting place? Does it even matter where your body is when alls said and done? Is that ever actually you or just a space filler?”

Sam had elbowed Bucky’s ribs and they’d each taken a piece of stone and pretended they didn’t see.

Sam weighed the shield against his shin, knocking it slightly to the side, and then looked up at the stone one ten more feet above his head.

Steve would hate this so much. Sam felt like he could feel his raging blush from the after life. Sam and Bucky had both asked for something more muted, something quieter. Hell, something that would do good for the world Steve was always trying to save. All this money and work and art, for what? A place to take pictures for likes on the internet?

No, Sam had to remind himself, it was a place for memory too.

As much as Sam kind of hated the whole thing, he couldn’t deny that looking up at the effigy of his friend inspired him the same way glancing over at him had in life too. The words wrapping around and around the base of the cenotaph sparked the same intense pride and righteousness they had the first time he heard them.

Maybe he didn’t hate the cenotaph. Maybe he just wanted the real thing back.

He startled at a gentle touch at his elbow. He thought it might’ve been another mourner come to offer condolences, though those mostly went to Bucky when someone was brave enough to approach him. Most people hadn’t looked at Sam twice. Not when Captain America was, in theory, laying in rest thirty feet beyond.

Sam was not in the mood to listen to anyone else talk about the time Steve smiled at them in a cafe or grabbed their cat out of a tree. If he heard his name again, he was going to break down.

But he had the shield now. He had to do the things Steve did. Smile when he didn’t want to. Hide any sign of weakness, lest it reflect poorly on the red, white, and blue he carried now. So he ground his teeth together until his gums ached and turned with a screwed on smile.

But it wasn’t a mourner. Not a random one anyway.

Bucky still had his fingers on Sam’s elbow, a sad look on his face. Dawn was creeping over the horizon and Sam realized with a start and a bloom of despair in his stomach that he’d spent the entire night in the park.

“Think if we wait two more days he’ll shove that stupid stone shield out of the way and come out?” Sam asked, voice wavering like a flag in the wind.

“We would literally never hear the end of it if he did,” Bucky pointed out.

Neither of them smiled. Neither of them really meant their jokes.

Sam finally broke down.

He collapsed against Bucky’s chest. It wasn’t until he lost his breath in the middle of a sob that he realized he wasn’t the only one shaking. Bucky was crying too. They clutched at each other, both terrified they might drift away, that the other might decide this was too difficult too and go back to something better at the first opportunity.

Sam didn’t even blame Steve. He’d laid awake in the temporary accommodation the government had put him up in and tried to convince himself that if he was in Steve’s shoes, he wouldn’t have saved Riley and stayed in that timeline. But he couldn’t. He knew he would have, almost certainly. And it wasn’t fair to ask Steve to give up a happy, quiet ending after more than a century of fighting and hurting.

But understanding it and accepting it didn’t make it hurt any less. “What are we supposed to do, Bucky?” he asked with an irritatingly genuine hiccup at the end of his words.

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, sounding for all the world like he was grinding his teeth together, trying to pull himself back together. “You have a lot more options than me.”

And it was true. Sam had had a job. The Air Force had reached out since he’d been back stateside. He had a family who missed him, who he missed. But it felt like something heavy and tethering had been locked away in that empty cenotaph. He didn’t want to walk away yet.

Bucky stepped back, kept a hand on Sam’s elbow. “For now, we should get back home. You need to sleep.”

Sam didn’t want to sleep. Everything hurt too much.

“Sam, come on,” Bucky insisted. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now.We could both use a few hours of being quiet, right?

Sam reached up to wipe the tears from his face. He had the shield. He had to act like it. “My place or yours?” he asked, still watery.

Bucky pretended like he didn’t notice. “Yours is nicer than mine.”

“And I have a bed.”

“I have a bed.”

“It’s unassembled in a box.”

Bucky squeezed his elbow and then tugged him into a brief hug that Sam was pretty sure they’d never speak of again. “Let’s get out of here. He’s not goin’ nowhere.”

Sam rubbed at his face again and nodded. “We-- We should order in. When’s the last time you ate?” he asked as they walked away.

“I had a better breakfast than you.”

“You didn’t have to give a speech.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t throw up in front of everyone.”

“Shut up, I’m a great public speaker.”

“Sure, Wilson.”

“Screw you, Barnes.”

The dawn bloomed before them.

Do not stand

By my grave, and weep.

I am not there,

I do not sleep—

I am the thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints in snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight,

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand

By my grave, and cry—

I am not there,

I did not die.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #sambucky fanfic #writing #i answer things #the falcon and the winter soldier #prompt answers

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Text

Illumi x black Y/N

JUST OCCURRED TO ME I NEVER UPDATED MY ILLUMI STORY ON HERE?!??!

It was about 2 feet tall and larger than your own head with speckled spots all around it. "Illumi what the hell is this?" Illumi blinked at you, "A boiled egg, I heard it is popular among you people." he replies, taking out a spoon and whacking the top of the egg at light speed. All at once, the egg was made up of cracks before they all fell lightly around the egg itself.

"You people? What does that mean" you glared at him, arms folded. Illumi looked at you blankly before closing his eyes and standing up, "Isn't it obvious? Americans." You looked at him for a while, questioning the life choices that lead up to this moment. "Are you going to eat this with me?" you asked poking the large food product with a fork provided by Illumi's brother from your last meal. Illumi shook his head, "No I ate two weeks ago I'm quite full."

At this point, you didn't have any desire to question it as you pierced your egg with your fork eating it. You were surprised at the abundance of taste it held without having any noticeable sauce or seasoning on it. "This is amazing!" you said digging in the egg savoring every bite. Illumi took out a notepad and scribbled something down. "What's that?" you ask, eyes lighting up as you finally made it to the yolk. "Notes my mother gave to me in order to make you accept this family as your own. Step 1: Take them, easy enough. Step 2: a way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Illumi looked up to you with what you could only guess to be pride.

"Did you just call me a man?" you asked blandly suddenly wanting to throw something at the skinwalker. "As far as I can see, you carry no masculine features but even if you did, my family has ways of making it work." Illumi says gesturing at the pins adorning his green vest. You internally shiver at the sight of them as you think back to the night you two met. "Why wouldn't you answer my calls?" Illumi asks, black eyes peering down at you as if they could swallow you whole. "Why did you call me while you were inside someone. Aren't I supposed to be your wife?" you questioned sarcastically licking your lips and setting the plate to the side.

You had only finished about 1/8 of the egg but you felt as if your stomach would implode on itself. You jump as you see a pale hand planted on the bed next to you. You gaze up at Illumi as he looks down at you, seemingly to take in all your features. "Would you prefer I were inside you?" You squeal jumping up and out of the bed falling onto the floor. "Where did that come from!?" you yelled pointing an accusing finger at Illumi as he walked around the bed towards you.

"Although I would prefer our lovemaking to be only when conceiving a child, I do not mind indulging in your fantasies." He says sliding a nail down the middle of his vest opening it up to reveal a green shirt underneath. "You stay right there slender man! Touch me and it's on sight!" you say wielding your fork as if it were a weapon. "Onsight? But I can see you just fine, are you perhaps blind?" You look at him with distaste as you stand up lazily throwing the fork in his direction. “You’re so weird.”

Illumi looked like a kicked puppy, “I don’t know what was strange, you chose to insinuate that you were jealous of me giving physical pleasure to another woman.” There was a knock on the door and a tall man with a mustache walked in. “What is it Gotoh?” Illumi asks, facing the man. Gotoh takes in your disheveled appearance and Illumi’s rare lack of that ugly ass jacket and smirks. “Look OG I don't know what you're thinking but that ain’t it.” you say rolling your eyes before walking into a closet to see what you could possibly wear.

Illumi looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “What is an Oh Gii? Is it a term of endearment?” You look at Illumi for a while before giving him a thumbs-up, “Yeah totally.” Gotoh pushed his glasses up doing his best to contain his amusement. “Your mother and father request a meeting with you and your fiance.” Illumi nods and Gotoh takes his exit.

You pull out an outfit that looks similar to what Illumi was wearing but instead of green it was red. “That'll work.” you mutter flinching as you feel arms wrap around your waist and you feel Illumi rest his head on your shoulder. “I am quite fond of you Oh Gee.”

You have to close your eyes and take deep breaths in order to keep in the laughter threatening to exit your lips.

Much to Illumi’s outward displeasure yet obvious pleasure, you and him were wearing the same thing. Although his vest was tightly hugging your chest and the pants were getting ready to bust from your ass. You two walked down the corridor in silence as you took in the navy blue walls that adorned the hallways. “I mean, knowing what you people do I wasn't expecting to see any loving family photos but how do ya’ll not get depressed with all this nothingness.” Illumi gazes forward but pulls out a small parchment. “I prefer to carry family memories.”

Illumi holds out a small photo to you. You look at it and it appears to be a child Illumi with his father in the woods. Ordinarily, this would be a sweet and endearing photo if not for the fact that Illumi was covered in blood splatter. “This was my first kill.” You quickly handed back the photo and chuckled awkwardly. “How cute a child murderer.” Illumi nodded, “Grandma thought so too.”

You silently prayed that someone, anyone would come to get you from this nightmare.

Illumi opens the double doors and allows you to walk in first. The room was much more lively than the halls but still managed to not look out of place. The room was a deep orange with golds everywhere from the linen to very abstract paintings placed in gold frames.

Sitting on a large pillow was Illumi’s mother and if they had your way, your mother-in-law. Illumi’s father of course sat next to her, broad-chested and overall intimidating. “I bet his dick is small.” you mutter trying to ignore how fast Illumi turned his head to gaze at you. “Illumi my son, come, come, sit!’ The woman cried, throwing her arms in the air in a welcoming manner. Illumi sat down.

You continued to stand because there was no obvious pillow for you to sit on. “Umm.” you scratched the back of your head before walking close to Illumi to sit. “No need for you to sit my dear, you will be leaving soon anyway.” you raised your eyebrow at that and couldn’t help but feel a chill go down your back. “W-What does that mean sir?” you ask. To your left, a small man in a lab coat walked from behind a door holding a clipboard. “We are ready sir.” he says not looking at you the entire time

“Y/N can you please go with him.” Illumi orders not even giving room for objection. You put your hand on your hip slapping away the hand the little man offered to you. “Like hell, I’m just going with Dr. Frankenstein over here without having any information!” Illumi sighed, having the audacity to look embarrassed. “You chose yourself a feisty one, my son.” Silva chuckled looking at you with a gleam in his eyes that made you thoroughly uncomfortable.”Illumi!” you warned, tapping your foot on the carpet. “More like obnoxious.” you could hear Kikyo mutter but you were too pressed with Illumi to care.

“It is understandable Illumi, I’m sure she would be more comfortable with her husband present during the examination.” You tapped your foot faster, getting anxious at the words 'examination.'

After a long pause, Illumi get’s up and follows you into the next room. This room was ordinarily dull. The floor was hardwood but the walls seemed to be adorned with expensive fabrics. “Miss if you will, can you roll up your shirt so I can draw blood.” You jerk your head at Illumi who simply looked blankly at you.

Seeing no other choice you roll up your sleeve but before the doctor could put the needle within you, you freaked out and stopped him before holding your hand out to Illumi. Illumi looked at your hand before recognition set in his eyes. He leaned forward and gave you a high-five. “My brother Killua taught me that.” You put a tight smile on your face before reaching over and grabbing the nearest object and throwing it at Illumi’s head satisfied as it hits him square in the jaw.

“No dumbass, hold my hand.” you responded. Illumi opened his mouth to say something but decided against it before taking your hand into his. Illumi’s hands were unsurprisingly cold considering how pale he was. The fingers were thin, long, and too delicate to belong to someone that takes lives for a living. You couldn’t quite help but laugh at how your skin tones concentrated so drastically, it was almost comical.

Before you knew it the blood work was done but you still didn’t let go of Illumi’s hand fearing what was to come next. “Please take off your clothes.” You Look at the doctor for a second before slowly sliding out of the chair and bolting for the door. Before you could make it you feel the neck of your vest being jerked back. “Don’t make this difficult please.” Illumi sighed.

“Hey you're not the one being asked to strip in a strange place.” Illumi shook his head, “Would you like it if I striped you instead of the doctor?” You smacked him on the back of his head, “No with your weird-ass!”

In the end, you kicked Illumi outside and found yourself propped up in a chair as the doctor took swabs in your cooter much to your discomfort. Illumi comes back in by the time you finally put your pants on and you follow him and the doctor back to the original room.

“How did it go doctor?” Silva asks and as you come closer you notice a large pillow sat out for you. “I’ll have you know my findings are quite peculiar. This woman seems to be a second nen ability within her but it’s dormant. This only happens with twins when one consumes the other.” You knew this fact, your momma always joked about how you were so hungry as a child that you ate your sister. “And what else.” Kikyo said, opening a hand fan impatient. “Is the girl barren and therefore of no use to us?!”

“Oh you won’t have to worry about Illumi’s ability to produce children, this woman is extremely fertile. In fact, I’m sure all it would take would be one time. There is also a high chance they could produce a white-haired offspring.” Your eyes widened, Kids? What the hell are they talking about, it’s been 3 days do you not get a got damn orientation? Silva held his chin in thought, “Though I do not doubt Killua’s loyalty, it’s always good to have a backup.”

You stood up and headed out the door as fast as you could, fists clenched. “Back up my ass, I ain’t having no brat with any of you people!” You walk down the hall, having no intention in mind highly doubting that you could make it to any exit without this damned family allowing you to. “Who the hell are you?” You hear a voice down the hall coming from a small boy with white hair. ‘This must be Killua.” You thought as you continued to walk past him, “A bad bitch who doesn't need no weird-ass fish-eyed man.”

Before you take another step, you hear a loud sound coming towards you, “Get out of the way!” Killua said, pushing you against the wall. There is a loud crack then footsteps, “Hello Killua.” You heard Illumi’s monotone voice say as he comes to be in front of you. Reaching above your head, Illumi picks out one of his pins from the wall behind you. “The hell was that Illumi!’ both you and Killua yell out, pointing an accusatory finger at the man in question.

“I see you’ve met my bride.” Illumi continues ignoring the situation. “It was good to see you again, finally tired of your ‘friend’?” Killua scoffed, “No, I’m here because dad called me.” he shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets and walking away, “Hey!” you look up at Killua who had his hand raised in a wave, “Sorry for your loss.”

Illumi crowds you back into your shared room with more force than necessary. “Hey watch it!” you snap shaking your shoulder out of his grip. “You embarrassed me in front of my mother.” He replied blandly. You roll your eyes, “Well sorry for you pretty boy, but I have bigger fish to fry.” Illumi looked around the room slowly, “I swear to god if you say-” “What fish?” You groan plopping on the bed burying your face into the sheets.

In your own world, you ignore the feeling of the bed sink, but you do not ignore the crotched pressed into your ass. “What in the hell do you think your doing nigga?!’ you say not in the mood whatsoever. “What is a ni-” you swing your hand behind you and attempt to slap Illumi in the face only for him to grab it and press it into the sheets above you. You begin to feel uneasy, “What are you doing fish eyes!?” You attempt to lift your hips but he secured them with his own. “Considering the results, I say that now is a perfect time to start consummating.

#black y/n #blackreader #illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck #illumi #illumi x y/n #illumi x poc #hxh #illumi hxh

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cutie1365 · 4 years

Text

Winchester Part 2/4

Pairing: Sherlock x Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Violence, language, blood

A/N: Part 1 can be found on my masterlist, which is in my bio! If you’d like to be tagged in this or any of my works, there’s a link in my bio to a google form. If you comment to be added, I’ll add you, but sometimes the notification gets lost.

Any and all feedback is welcome and encouraged :)

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Your brothers were set to arrive any minute now after hopping on the first flight they could get out of Kansas. John accompanied you in picking them up from the airport, as Sherlock still thought this whole thing was ridiculous, and you couldn’t exactly blame him. Sure, it sounded crazy, it’s downright biblical, but you had known better than to doubt the existence of such beings.

“Are those your brothers?” John asked, turning to you with a raised brow as he saw the two men approaching with their sights set on you.

“Yup.” You smiled, it’s been years since you’ve seen them, even though they check in every few months.

“Jesus, I didn’t know you were part giant,” John laughed, pausing for a moment before turning to you with a more serious tone, “Wait, are giants real too?”

“Don’t be silly John,” You laughed, and he looked relieved, “Dragons are though.”

“No way.” He deadpanned.

“They’ve got a thing for virgins.” You nodded.

“Now you’re just playing with me.” He shook his head, and you smiled to make him think you were joking... and you really wished you were.

The boys had made it out of the gate and you ran and jumped into Dean’s arms as he dropped his duffel bag.

“There’s my girl.” He chuckled, hugging you and spinning you around.

“Sammy!” You hugged him next, you saw him eyeing your injuries with a sad smile. He wanted you to get out of this life. Hell, he’d even helped you get out of it, and here you were, right back at square one.

You were smiling wide, glad to be back with your family when you saw Dean eyeing the man next to you.

“Oh, this is my friend John Watson. John these are my brothers Sam and Dean.” You introduced them, pointing between your brothers as they moved to shake John’s hand.

“So what’s the plan?�� Sam asked as they gathered their bags and you began to walk outside to hail a cab.

“We’ve been doing some research and triangulating local news clippings and sightings. We may have a location. Sherlock’s at Scotland Yard looking into if there’s been any other suspicious murders in the area that could help us lock down their hunting ground. He’ll meet us back at the flat after we get any supplies we need.” You explained, as the boys followed you and you raised your hand out into the street, a black cab stopping and pulling over for you.

“Good, we’ll get to work.” Sam nodded.

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

With duffel bags freshly filled with supplies for the hunt, Dean and Sam followed you up the stairs to 221B Baker Street.

From the top of the stairs you could see Sherlock in his usual chair, donning a white dress shirt and black pants, with a file open on his lap. As he saw you enter the room he closed the file and stood to greet you and your new guests.

“Did you find any more?” You pointed to the file in his hands.

“Two stabbings with the same weapon, bodies found this morning on opposite sides of London, no apparent connection between the victims.” Sherlock handed you the file, you furrowed your brows as you flipped it open and read it, before realizing your brothers were still silently standing behind you waiting to be introduced.

“Shit, sorry. Sherlock these are my brothers Sam and Dean. Boys, this is Sherlock Holmes.” You motioned between them, before drawing your attention back to the files.

You looked up to see Dean giving Sherlock a dirty look that was no doubt meant to threaten him since you hadn’t introduced him as a friend like you did with John. No matter how old you got, he’d always be your protective older brother. You slyly elbowed him in the ribs, and he cracked a smile as he shook Sherlock’s hand.

“These kills look nothing like the first,” You flipped through the photos included in the files, “I mean, the weapon is the same. Looks like an angel blade, but they’re so much more... violent, messy. Overkill.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement as you handed the file to your brothers. Sam took it and began scouring the pages.

“You just had to go and piss off some demons, huh?” Dean raised a brow after seeing the bloody photos.

“Yes Dean, because I did this on purpose.” You said sarcastically, with a roll of your eyes.

“I’m just saying.” Dean shrugs.

“Bitch.” You shook your head at him.

“Jerk.” He retorted with the common reply shared by the three of you.

“You’re just cranky because you hate flying.” You put your hands on your hips and smirked at him.

“I’m not cranky.” He whined, causing you to raise a brow in a sort of are you sure about that? kind of way.

“Oh yes you are,” you chuckled, “Come on, let’s get you some coffee.”

Dean followed you into the kitchen as you began gathering a few mugs and pouring the black liquid from the pot into them. Dean’s eyes danced around all the scientific equipment in the kitchen.

“Does Dr. fucking Frankenstein live here?” He asked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Whatever you do, don’t open the freezer.” You handed him his coffee with a smirk.

“That’s a joke right, please tell me you’re joking.” He called after you as you left the kitchen without another word, praying he didn’t stumble upon the fingers in the freezer. While he looked like a tough guy, he was a little squeamish when it came to dismemberment.

As you reentered the living room you smiled at the sight of John and Sam chatting and organizing all the supplies. It was nice to see them getting along, and John not thinking this entire operation was crazy. You approached Sherlock’s chair and handed him the cup you’d prepared just the way he likes it - black, two sugars. He accepted it with a smile as you sat in the wooden ‘client chair’ that had been pulled next to him.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly.

He hesitated for a second, likely deciding how honest he wanted to be in his reply.

“That we may just have a serial killer on our hands who’s escalating and devolving.” He answered, and you nodded.

“In a way you’re right.” You smiled, you knew this wasn’t easy for him to understand. You weren’t mad that he was sceptical. Hell, you would be too if you didn’t grow up the way you did.

“Hmm.” He hummed in dissatisfaction as you stood up and smiled, placed a hand on his arm reassuringly, giving him a little squeeze, before walking back towards the kitchen.

You sat at the counter flipping through the files once more, making sure there wasn’t anything you were all missing. You didn’t like walking into a hunt unprepared. There were only so many things you could control, and you never wanted lack of research to cause your downfall.

The four men were gathering the final supplies together in the living room, preparing to leave soon.

John had noticed Sam’s tattoo as they were moving things around.

“What’s it mean?” John pointed to his own collar bone, really just trying to make conversation.

“Anti-possession sigil,” Dean explained as they pulled down the collar of their shirt to expose their warding tattoos, “We’ve all got one.”

“Y/N doesn’t have any tattoos.” Sherlock shook his head, causing everyone to turn to you with wide eyes.

You almost choked on your coffee, before placing the glass down. Your brothers raised a brow at you, both for different reasons. Sam was worried, you could tell.

You sighed, turning towards the group and pulling your shirt and bra strap down your shoulder, exposing the bare untattooed skin. Sam worried once you got out of that life, you would have done something stupid like try to get it removed, leaving you vulnerable.

You took one more glance at Sherlock, hoping he wouldn’t think any different of you. He looked on with furrowed brows, watching hesitantly.

You rubbed your fingers hard against your skin, slowly revealing the tattoo below, covered with makeup. Your eyes met Sams and he looked relieved.

“What?” Sherlock came closer to examine the tattoo, how had he not noticed it before? Him of all people? He raised his finger to brush against the tinted skin, imagining the pain the needle must have caused. You weren’t the type of person to get a tattoo, you hated needles and he knew this. So the fact that you put yourself through that wasn’t to be taken lightly.

He backed away cautiously, obviously deep in thought. This didn’t mean he believed you yet, but he did have a lot of questions, per usual.

As Sam went over the plan with John and Sherlock once more, Dean approached you as you pulled your shirt back up your shoulder.

“Don’t think we’re not gonna talk about how he knew that.” Dean tilted his head and gave you a disapproving look.

“Dean...” You sighed, you were an adult, you shouldn’t have to explain yourself.

“So is it serious?” He glazed back towards Sherlock who was listening intently to Sam.

“Can we not do this now?” You whispered, not wanting them to overhear.

“Is it?” Dean asked once more, his tone more demanding.

“Yes, ok. I wouldn’t have dragged him into this mess if it wasn’t.” You shook your head, a pang of guilt rushing through you. You knew if any of them got hurt today, it was on your head.

“I don’t think he’s taking this seriously.” Dean shook his head, noticing how Sherlock’s not been the most active in the preparations for the hunt, and you couldn’t blame him.

“He’s a graduate chemist and a detective. He relies on science and facts. We can’t just expect him to believe in fairy tales with no proof.” You tried to explain, but Dean wasn’t exactly convinced.

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

The five of you stood outside an empty warehouse on the outskirts of the city that you had traced to be their hideout. They were demons on the run, rogues, they couldn’t risk blending in anymore. They had to lay low.

“We sure this is the place?” Dean asked with a raised brow.

“It’s our best shot.” Sam nodded.

“You ready?” Dean turned back to you and asked, eyeing Sherlock and John behind you.

“Let’s go.” You cocked the shotgun Dean had given you with special salt filled bullets.

You turned back to Sherlock and John one last time before you went in.

“Try to stay behind me, but shoot if you have to.” You instructed them, Dean had given them some bullets he’d made with holy water in them that fit into the guns they already own. They nodded, realizing this was really about to happen.

Sam kicked down the door of the warehouse, the boys taking lead. Two demons bolted up from their chairs at a makeshift table in the middle of the room. At least you had the element of surprise on your side, they weren’t expecting you. While their vessels were new, their eyes immediately turned black, and you knew you were in the right place. They looked worried, they knew they were outnumbered.

One immediately ran at you, and you fired your shotgun. The salt burned into his chest. It slowed him down, but it also pissed him off. He ran at you once more, while you pulled an iron knife from your waistband. As he charged at you, you buried the knife into his abdomen and twisted as he screamed in pain, the iron burning his skin.

He fell back onto the floor and you were able to pin him down, holding the iron blade against his neck as he squirmed.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” You began to mutter the exorcism in Latin, angering him even more.

The demon kicked you off of him, sending you flying into the wooden table they were sitting as when you came in. You held your head for a moment as your vision blurred. You tried to focus and center yourself, as you saw the demon charge towards you once more. Your gun sat on the floor a few feet away as you tried to reach for it in time. When your head turned you heard a shot ring out, and whipped your head back. Sherlock had his arm raised, still pointing his gun at the demon who screamed in pain again. The holy water hurt him, but it didn’t kill him.

You turned to see that your brothers had trapped his partner in a salt circle, and Sam was now exorcising him. You made eye contact with Dean and he nodded, tossing you Ruby’s demon killing knife. You jumped to your feet, catching the blade and charging at the demon before you in one swift movement.

He must have realized what you were holding. You lunged at him, blade extended, you braced for impact. But the moment before the knife sunk into his chest, the demon escaped from his vessel. A black cloud swirling out of his mouth and disappearing into the night.

“Dammit!” You yelled, ripping the knife out of the already deceased vessel.

Sam and Dean turned around at the sound of your voice. You turned to see they had successfully exorcised the other demon, sending him back to hell. Crowley wouldn’t go easy on a rogue who wasn’t following his orders, his fate was sealed.

“You good?” Dean asked, offering you a hand as you sat on the floor next to the unmoving body.

“I had him.” You growled, placing your hand in Deans and letting him pull you to your feet.

“We’ll find him, don’t worry.” Sam tried to reassure you, but you shook your head in anger, not wanting to listen to him coddle you.

“What the hell just happened?” John asked with wide eyes, unsure of what he just witnessed.

“We got one of them, but the other left his vessel and escaped. He could be miles away by now.” Dean explained, wiping some blood from his lip where the dead demon’s fist had caught him.

“So what do we do now?” Sherlock asked, putting his gun away.

“Back to square fucking one.” You huffed, pushing through the group of men and back towards the entrance of the warehouse.

Obviously you were angry, you had him on the ropes. He was right there, but you couldn’t finish the job.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow to Sam, silently questioning if he should go after you. He’d never seen you like this. He’s never seen you fire a gun, let alone fight like that and stab a man... twice. This was a whole new side of you, one he understood why you kept hidden. He wanted to make sure you were ok.

Sam shook his head, raising a hand to stop Sherlock from moving. He knew how you got after a hunt that didn’t go as planned, and no one deserved to be on the receiving end of that fight. It was best if they let you be, they’d learned that lesson the hard way many years ago. It seems as though all these years have passed, nothing really changed.

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Taglist in reblog. Masterlist in bio.

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terminally-karkalicious · 3 years

Note

allow me to rant about the only thing that has been in my brain for the past two months and that is doll customizing babeyyyyy

i know there’s a 90% chance that you wont give a Shit about any of this but here we go anyways

SO first you gotta choose a doll. preferably one with a high range of motion to avoid creating new joints or having annoying limitations like not having elbow joints for some fucking reason. what the fuck mattel. give monster high dolls back their ball jointed shoulders and elbow joints. smh

the most common dolls ive seen used as bases are monster high and ever after high. most customs ive seen are highly stylized so the stylized face molds work well for those types of dolls but dolls like barbies are good for when you want a more realistic face-ups.

once you’ve got your base picked out you gotta wipe that bitch’s face off with like. acetone or nail polish remover or something strong like that. you can also use acetone to shrink doll heads which is cool as hell imo. n e way once the face is wiped you gotta chop off the hair and remove the hair plugs from the inside. ive seen this done several ways but the easiest and most common way ive seen is to dunk the head into boiling water for ~30 seconds until it gets squishy and malleable. once you’ve got the head back, you can use pliers (i think tweezers would work in a pinch) to pull out the hair plugs which are kinda icky because theyre covered in glue and other gross shit. ew

now you must decapitate the doll. dunk em back in the boiling water to soften them back up then just tug the head off. the neck pegs look funky and are usually a different color than the body so thats cool ig

once the head’s off, you can start the face-up which is basically just giving the doll a new face using stuff like watercolor pencils, acrylic paint, gouache, and a whole lot of other stuff. hell ive seen people use person makeup on these dolls.

next,,,,, hair. there’s about twenty million ways to do hair from gluing yarn wefts to sewing to rerooting with purchased nylon doll hair or yarn wefts but i’m gonna talk about the most common one ive seen which is rerooting and gluing.

before you can reroot, you need doll hair. which, as i mentioned, can be bought at stores like the doll planet or made at home with yarn in literally any color. have fun with it! make rainbow hair or something idk

to make homemade wefts, you take some acrylic yarn, cut it twice as long as you want the hair to be (keep in mind you can cut and style the hair once it’s been rerooted), fold them in half, and tie it to something sturdy like a wire coat hanger for the next step.

once you’ve got your yarn tied to your hanger, use a pet brush and brush the yarn until it’s wispy and looks like hair. then take a straightening iron and iron the weft flat. then remove from the hanger and boom. hair wefts. ta-da

to reroot the wefts onto the head, use a rerooting tool (which can be as simple as a needle with the eye cut at angle) (just google it please i’m shit at descriptions)) to poke small sections of the hair into the head. you can use the pre-existing rooting holes for your own reroot as they’re usually pretty reliable. to reroot, take a small length of you doll hair (about 10-15 strands), loop it in half, and put the middle of the loop into the reroot tool. poke the end of the tool with the hair on it into the pre-existing hole and remove the tool. the hair *should* stay in and fill up that plug!! also remember to plug thickly at the hairline and part of the hair where it's most noticeable. it doesnt matter as much in the center of the head as that’s not usually visible on the doll. once you’ve rerooted, squeeze in strong glue through the neck hole and squish around the head to make sure it covers all the plugs and secures them in place. then pour hot water onto the head to make the hair lay flat for styling later.

also, you can reroot yarn directly into the head to make thicker, more textured hairstyles. and since the yarn is thicker, you dont need to glue the inside of the head for the hair to stay in place!!

if youre not doing body modifications (which are also cool as hell) then it’s time for clothes but clothes are boring and i like body mods more so i’m gonna rant about them instead

the material ive seen most doll artists use is apoxie sculpt, which is like play doh on steroids. it comes in two parts which you gotta mix together for some reason. why dont they sell it pre-mixed. what was the reason. also once it’s dry it’s super super strong and you can sand it, drill into it, paint it, and all kinds of stuff. very nice and i want some for myself.

you can use hand saws and drills and shit to whack off doll limbs to make stuff like digitigrade legs or new joints. also dont be afraid to use other mismatching doll parts when customizing like heads and bodies and forearms and hands and shit. it literally does not matter if youre gonna recolor the doll anyways so have fun with it. make frankenstein’s doll if youre feeling spicy

accessories my beloved. stuff like tiny beads and clay baubles and shit will literally transform the entire doll plus they’re adorable and multi-purpose

i suppose i must talk about clothes now. ah well. you can find great clothing patterns if youre new to customizing on other customizer’s etsy shops and probably google although those will probably be lower quality than paid pattern pieces. and keep in mind that if it exists as clothing irl, you can likely make it doll-sized. there are literally no limits to your clothing options as long as you can execute your idea.

the once all your components have been made, you can assemble the doll again!! and finally see what all the parts look like together!! very cool 10/10 stars.

ight that wraps up my doll rant. i could really go into more detail on certain parts but thats a whole other rant for a whole other day smh. sorry for fucking flooding your inbox ender ahaha……………. you asked for this

little did you know that dolls have been one of my favorite things since like ever. if i can read a 25 chapter long fanfic i can read this B)

mattel definitely fucked up by completely ruining MH doll designs and just stopping EAH, alot of their profits most likely came from people who collect and customize dolls and by changing MH doll designs/Stopping EAH dolls they 1. most likely lost a small (or big if we're not jus talking people who customize dolls) part of their profit and 2. made it harder for doll customizers to make dolls/get commissions out rather quickly because they probably have to waste more time making joints or learning how to make joints.

EAH/MH dolls (specifically MH dolls) had AMAZING MODELS because there was so much variety with height, face shapes, etc (my favorite molds had to be the short/tall dolls and the cat molds because of the tails) and doll customizers really went all out with enhancing a molds unique features. The only "downside" abt MH dolls is that they (or atleast most)(from what i remember)) had slimmer faces but wider eyes while EAH dolls have wider faces with slimmer smaller which left a canvas for the face and not the eyes (and vice versa for MH dolls)

I've never seen any videos where a barbie is customized (maybe because i absolutely despised barbies at the time) so I'll definitely have to check those out but they seem to be good for realistic makeovers. I've seen like like semi realistic makeovers for EAH/MH dolls that were pretty good too tho (pretty sure mostly EAH dolls since yk MH dolls were used for creature makeovers while most EAH dolls weren't)

yeah i was always amazed by the head shrinking with acetone. honestly i still am?? idunno i have no idea how that chemical bullshit works. Ive seen a few of uh makeovers that just pain over the face (in multiple layers ofcourse) but that's usually when they're painting the entire body a different colour (again usually when they're turning a doll into a funky little baby man). I've also seen a few that just chop the hair off and take out the hair plugs yk without uuh like softening the head or just go straight for the hair plugs after taking off the head (i used to do that it was funny to me??). i always really liked when they used watercolour pencils or just colour pencils in general to draw/sketch on the face cause like wow ur drawing on ur doll without ruining it?? kinda epic maybe even poggers and pogchamp?? oh god my brain is failing wjshsmsj.

Watching them putting the hair back on the doll was, other than the face stuff, was the BEST part for me. Favorite type of hair was iuuuuuh was either thick yarn or brushed out yarn. Literally worship the people that would reroot the hair, theyre the most patience people on this earth!! it's literally insane but i guess that's what happens when you've been doing that for years? you guess kinda get used to it. when they put glue into the head does it just become stiff?? like it's just a clump of dried glue or does it like..hollow out again??

dude you literally cannot convince me most of the supplies used for doll makeovers. APOXIE CLAY LOOKS SO FECKING GOOD. its edible and i will die on that hill. The body mods are literally so amazing!!!!! it's so impressive how theyre able to imagine certain features THEN LIKE ACTUALLY MAKE IT LOOK ACCURATE TO WHAT THEY WANTED TO LOOK LIKE AFTER LIKE ON TRY (or many yk trial and error is very necessary for..everything). Absolutely loved when doll customizers would saw off a dolls legs and use different ones or just completely get rid of the torso to use a different one. it's like uuh that one big guy that's mismatched and sewn together. very cool. The accessories are so fun!! just small little details you seen really need but can add because it's your feckin doll!! I used to be absolutely obsessed over the doll clothes i would find on etsy, so much so that i started sewing shitty shirts and dresses for my uh "customized" dolls (they were absolute HORRORS idk WHY my mom let me feck up my dolls like that).

Thank you for this!! i haven't been able to talk about any of my interests for a while and this just really made me happy!!

Question fer u my fellow MH/EAH enthusiast: what was your favorite MH/EAH movie/episode and doll series. Mine was The fusion dolls (MH obvi) and that MH movie "Haunted" cause we got to know more about Spectra :D

#YOOOO LONG POST?!#long post #:) hehehe #this was very fun to read cant wait for ur next fanfic length ask #asks :D #theoreticallyjasper

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alias-b · 4 years

Text

Talk Dirty To Me

~Billy/Camille + Tommy Too

The Smut Extravaganza for Billy and Camille I got requests for. They make the mistake of teasing each other the entire day while they plan for a memorable Halloween. Tommy H just has great timing. Fun Smutty AU for my fic, Without The Lights, combination of smut requests I was sent for Billy and Camille. This got way out of hand and it's just filth. Literally, this is fun garbage filth. Enjoy! 🍒

A/N: Inevitable Threesome. Bi!Billy. Overstimulation. Light roleplay. Drinking/pot use. Gross teens and sexual fantasies come to life. Sorta follow up to the one shot about Tommy’s dirty letter. :))) It’s long, sorry!

“Billy, come see this one!” The damn sing song.

A groan erupted. He tried to hide behind a row of latex Halloween masks. Rubber scent filled his nostrils.

“Just a few more.” Camille beckoned with a hurried wave. Genuine and excited, he’d be an asshole to mess with that.

“You said that a million costumes and two stores ago.” Billy came around to see her. Greek goddess. Probably Venus by the tight fit.

“Well?” Camille spun for him. Little gold pieces wrapped around her caught the light.

“You look amazing.” Repetition. “So fucking hot.”

“You say that about them all.” Fists went to her hips. Chest puffing. Red alert.

“Am I wrong?” He attempted to recover.

“No, but still. Marie Antoinette. Barbie. Fives different witches. A cat. Bride of Frankenstein. And so on. And you haven’t tried on any.” Lips formed a pout.

The look. Boyfriend’s worst nightmare.

“I go as the same thing every single year. A drunk asshole.” Billy flashed a crooked grin. Scarred brow lifting. Creepy Halloween sounds played over the cheery tune of the Monster Mash. A speaker above the dressing rooms echoed louder.

“But, Halloween is about being something you’re not, babe.” The quip caused him to laugh, head turning because he waltzed into that one. “You best help me out here because your pretty ass is dressing as the other half of my costume.”

“Couples costumes? We did not agree to that.” Billy tugged on the curl of a huge synthetic wig, watched it bounce.

“Girlfriend gets the holidays, it’s the rules.” Camille pulled her curtain over and unzipped herself as he dicked around outside. Itching to go.

“What do I get in return?” Billy’s casual tone was anything but innocent.

“Rewarded for making the girlfriend happy on such campy, beloved occasions.” She fussed about, making the curtain jostle. Billy only shook his head with another smile. A compelling argument.

“So,” he poked his face in, startling her. Camille braced to cover her underwear and instead tossed jeans at him. “I put on a costume, I get laid. We fuck all the time.”

“Maybe a happy girlfriend will be...a little more giving. A little weirder for your unique tastes.” She pecked his lips and pushed him out.

“I do like how that sounds.” Billy hummed to himself. “You know, when I was sick. You made me a promise that...hasn’t been delivered on. Something involving your mouth and a little roleplay.”

“Uh, how about the events of literally this morning?”

“Yeah, well, we wanted the entire illusion with it, Doctor Harper.” He explained and she rolled her eyes.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality. I’m forbidden to speak of it further.” Came the retort.

Billy groaned to himself outside. Few shoppers eyed him messing with accessories. He stopped to fix his hair in a nearby mirror, flicked a curl aside before Camille peered out to see him tonguing one of his canines.

“Consider another fairy tale. Red Riding Hood?” Camille braced her hands on either side of the room, hip cocked. Divine. A nearby mother shielded her son’s eyes and ushered him off. Billy was snickering, plucking up a wolf mask with realistic grey fur. He dangled it before her. “C’mon, get into the spirit, beach boy.”

“Consider the werewolf only eats sweet, sweet pu-” Billy’s vulgar remark was muffled when her hand covered his lips. Bright eyes flickered. He was too much.

“I loathe you.” Camille only puffed at him, turning. “Uh, I’m not feeling anything and I’m starving. Let’s give up and grab a cheesesteak from the food court.”

“Extra onions and green peppers. Now, we’re talking.” Billy gave a sigh of relief. Still messing around just outside with masks and fake weapons. Camille heard the curtain swish once her dress was back on the hanger.

“Billy, I’m not dressed.” She turned to see him in a plastic hockey back. Silent and unblinking. Curls framed his face. “Jesus!” Instinct made her jerk before she pushed him. “You’re not funny. Asshole.”

No words. Just stared.

“You creep.” Camille turned to pick up her jeans as they crammed together in the tiny room. Earning a smack on her ass. “Hey!” She waved him off, eyeing his right hand. A fake replica of Freddy Krueger’s glove with blades skimmed her bare thigh. Huffing, she turned to face him, hands on her hips. “You got your horror bad boys mixed up.”

“Does that really turn you off?”

“Little bit. The actual Freddy mask with the burn scars was just outside.”

“You think I’d put that ugly ass rubber shit over my head?” Billy pulled up the hockey mask, face scrunching.

“I’m just saying you lose points for it.” She laughed at him, halting when he pressed her back into the corner of the box they squeezed into. “Ugh. You’re impossible.”

“You’re hot.” Billy settled one plastic blade on her lower lip, inching it over the curve. “I put on a costume, Halloween came earlier. I don’t.” A wink caused her to lick her lips when he shook the glove off.

“Please, Mister Nightmare the 13th, don’t hurt me. I wanna be in the sequel.” Camille faked an amused, coy shiver before Billy turned her around. “Billy.” The whine signaled her voice lowering. Camille braced her hands on the wall, let him palm her ass and hips until his groin pushed into her bottom. Hair was swept over and a well placed kiss sent chills down her spine. The hockey mask fell aside so Billy could view them in the mirror to his left.

“Look at you, all alone.” He’d uttered, pressed into her back. Idle fingers slipped into her underwear, one tug stretched them.

“Fucking asshole, you’re buying me another pair.” Camille turned to hiss. Noting that he stuffed them into his back pocket. “Like I said, creep.”

“You love it. Perfect version of me for Halloween, I thought.” One snap undid her bra. Palms cupped her breasts, earning a soft sigh. Music buried their voices just enough. Billy was enjoying himself maybe more than he should have. Lips on her shoulder blade while he twisted her nipples. One hand went up onto locks of brown hair, tugging at silken roots to pull her head back.

“Fingers,” came an order he was thrilled to fulfill. Mouths opened and Billy pushed his tongue against hers, muffling a moan so his free hand cupped between her legs.

“Best costume yet.” He joked, eyes on the mirror while she nuzzled and whined back into him. Lips agape to breathe steady and eyes closed. Thighs quivered when two fingers plunged in, thumb rubbing idle circles into her clit. "You're soaked." Camille felt back to open his belt and slip her hand under denim, a growl hitched.

“My, my, what big...teeth…you have.” Breathless, she pumped him a few times. Squirmed against his muscled frame.

“Better to eat you with, Harpy.” He hushed into her jawline. Felt her moving into his fingers and tugged her hand away. The Monster Mash wasn’t the sexiest tune to get weird to. Billy felt her moving into his touch. Putty in his palm. Hazel eyes closed again when Camille’s lips parted. “But, you know what I really want?” A hot mouth skimmed her neck.

“More.” She sighed into his body. Billy hitched a breath. Pulled his fingers from her thighs to lick them clean.

“I want...a fucking...cheesesteak.” The heat of him pulled away, left Camille shuddering. Rubbing her thighs together.

“H-Hey...wait a second.” Camille perked up. Skin fizzling. Billy had that insufferable smile on his face.

“Maybe, I’ll finish you later. Give it another few costumes.” He winked. Slid out.

“Billy.” Camille reared forward hissing. Her head popped out. “My panties.”

“I consider it a tease toll.” He licked his thumb and came forward her kiss her brow. “Cute when you’re all worked up and frustrated. Blushing so hard.”

“I hate you so much right now.” Camille gruffed, tearing back to jerk her clothing on. Billy was all snickers as she adjusted her jeans. “Fucking hell. How can you do this as much as you do? No underwear?”

“Look at you squirm, Harpy.”

“I’ll get you for this.” She snatched her purse, stuffed a few singles into his pocket. “Go buy us food, asshole. I gotta put my shit back. I’m not leaving all these for a poor employee to put away.”

“What if I promise to make this up to you later?”

“Oh Billy,” Camille teased, pressing her body into his, “you have...no idea the game you just started.”

She peered around. Slipped her hand over his shaft until he grunted. Went off all too proud.

Gulp.

Camille waited until he had gone before she plucked up a costume. Smiled. Purchased it with devilish eyes. Tied the bag shut so Billy couldn’t glimpse it.

“Are you really mad about it?”

“Mad, Billy?” Camille said coolly. “I could never be mad at you.” She plucked up a fry. Chomped. "I don't get mad. I just remember." Billy snickered and went to town on his sandwich. “And to think, you could have put all that enthusiasm to better use between my thighs.”

He choked laughing. Wiped grease away on his hand. Camille broke too. Reached over to hand him a stack of napkins. Her entire sandwich gone as well.

“I want to get home. The whole commando in jeans is not a thing for me.”

“Let me see what you bought.” Billy whined as they tossed their trash out.

“No, it’s bad luck.”

“I think that’s a wedding thing.” Idly, he let her lace their hands, weaving through crowds to get out and to the car. Something about it made him smile to himself. "I could say please?"

“It’s a surprise for later.”

“I’m in for it, aren’t I?”

“Maybe.” Camille buckled. The ignition fired up. Billy whizzed out of the parking lot. Immediately a hand was on this thigh.

“Camille...” He warned, legs opening. She just hummed. Stared outside at the bright autumn day. Dainty fingers grazed down, rubbing him until his cock twitched again. “Hard enough to calm down after the dressing room.”

“Poor baby.” She felt him strain. Watched his knuckles pale against the wheel. They got to a red light and he reeled to kiss her all tongue and teeth. Camille had a hand on the zipper. “Billy.”

“Hmmm?” He moaned into her mouth.

“Green light.” She licked her lips and came out. Took her hand away. He stomped the pedal.

“Fucking shit.” He glanced down. Arousal wet his jeans. Bitch.

Camille giggled all the way home. Empty house. Jim working late and El with her little friends. Billy practically chased her to the door. It wasn’t closed and locked again before he was on her. More laughter burst as stubble scratched her neck with wandering lips.

He took in her perfume and lotions. A floral, citrus sort of scent like paradise. Nipped. Camille pushed playfully.

“Oh no, you don’t.” She flicked hair aside and went around him with her bags. Slipping off some flats. “I’m putting my stuff away. Shoes.”

“C’mon, do it later. I could convince you.” Billy kicked his boots aside and tugged as they went upstairs. Pressed her into the door of her bedroom. Camille evaded him. “You’re kidding me.” He whined, falling into the bed with an annoyed huff.

“You started it in that dressing room. Dug the grave, sweet face, now lie in it.”

“We’ve ruined plenty of dressing rooms. I was just kidding around.” He settled his hands behind his head. Aching. Camille took her sweet time, stashing the Halloween bag in the bathroom while she pulled tags off clothing to hang pieces away. “You tortured me with sexy costumes all day.”

“Big baby.” She snickered, waiting until his eyes closed to pounce on him. Billy let out a grunt as she laughed, pecking his cheeks to be a pest. “Maybe I found us something fun.”

“That so?” Billy pushed brown locks back, cupping her face to bring it down for more kisses. She fell beside him and laid there for a beat of staring. “What?”

“You’re just pretty.”

Billy whined and cloaked his face with one arm, twisting over as if he was bashful.

“Stuff it, Harpy.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” Camille nestled against him. Forced him to be little spoon. “Would the gift make you feel better?”

“...Depends.”

“Give me five minutes.” She sprang up, grazing his lips while he pulled at her before flitting off.

Camille took twenty minutes. Billy complained the entire time.

“Close your eyes!” She called.

“Absolutely not.” He resisted, pressed against the bed with his hands in his lap.

“C’mon, Billy.”

“Fine.” He made a thing of it to roll his eyes, shutting them. Heard the door open.

“Well?” Camille draped herself along the door frame.

“Be still my fucking heart.” Billy’s entire body fizzled with electricity. Camille in a sexy nurse get up, so short you could see the garters clipping white tights up. Little hat with a cross pined up into her messy hair. “Dr. Harper.”

“That’s right.” She took one step. Heels clicking.

“Is this you fulfilling a forgotten promise?” Billy was pulling her into his lap the second she crawled over him. Heels falling over the side of the bed. Camille settled her hands on the frame behind his head, leaning in for a heated kiss. “This isn’t right, you’re the one about to get the injection.”

“You’re so gross.” Camille’s guise broke when laughter roused, head tipping to his collar. Billy’s hands cupped her bottom, bringing her to grind into him. Lips trailing her neck to bring out a moan.

“Tell me what I need, Dr. Harper.” Billy had started unbuttoning her little dress, trailing his digits over the lace bra. Another kiss upon her chest. Fingers tugged at his curls.

“Don’t stop.” She uttered instead, his face pushed between her breasts. Tugging the lace down so he could leave marks on tender skin. One nipple pressed against his tongue and Camille’s head tipped back. “I think we both need a... ah, thorough observation.”

“Just tell me where to put my-”

The doorbell rang.

The fucking doorbell.

Billy groaned when Camille perked up, his shirt was half open. Mouths bright and swelled from kisses.

“No, stay here. Probably some salesman, ignore it.” Billy nipped at her again, earning a shudder. Hands everywhere to just keep her in his lap. Hushing and sultry. “Ignore it. Let me fuck you.”

“But...” It tolled once more. “Just...ugh, fuck-” Camille pushed his hands down as he pawed, scrambled to fix her dress before she was up. Both of them vibrating with frustrated nerves. Crackling with fire.

“Camille, c’mon.” Billy followed, pressing her into the door frame. Pushing his tongue into her mouth. “Stay.”

“Just one...second,” she tugged for a robe and tossed her hat aside, “I'm coming!”

“Was supposed to be me saying that.” Billy followed, fully intent on punching whoever dared to ring that bell. Camille opened it and gasped softer, tried to come down from the heat.

“Tommy?” He was halfway off the porch, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Oh. Hey, Cam...”

“What are you-?”

“I didn’t know where to...my bad. This is stupid.”

Billy was going to murder him in broad daylight.

“Hey, wait, what’s wrong?” Camille had him by the arm, pulling. Tommy eyed Billy’s blazing eyes behind her.

“...Did I interrupt something, you two?”

“No.” Camille began.

“Yes!” Billy puffed, bursting at the seams with an ache. “Empty house. No kids. No Chief. What does this look like, a fucking tea party?”

“Look who hasn’t changed, Keg King. You crazy kids.” Tommy’s smile was crooked, the sun caught his hair to bring more auburn color out. He passed the couple and fell into the couch like he owned it with the news that he’d barged in on them about to tear into each other.

“Billy, chill.” Camille shut the door, eyes rolling. “You’re sad.”

“I’m not sad.” Tommy shrugged and she crossed her arms, eyebrow lifting.

“Why’d you come over, you started to say you didn’t know where to go?”

“It’s stupid.” Tommy rubbed the back of his head. Billy huffed and went into the kitchen. Appeared with some whiskey from Jim's stash.

“What? He’s sad, I’m going to be sad too.” Billy plopped into a chair, drinking.

“So, um, Carol and I have been talking and whatever like you said we should. Things are good for her up there in Chicago, you know?”

“Yeah,” Camille sat down next to him. Billy gulped across from them. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, I thought we’d...find our way back. We’re friends.” He frowned. Another slouchy shrug. “She’s seeing someone else. It’s stupid. I’m happy for her, but I...” Tommy tapped his fingers on his knee. “I thought...”

“Oh.” Camille leaned forward. “Sorry.”

“Girls, right?” Billy drank and Camille swiped the bottle from him, crossed to offer it to Tommy.

“Thanks.” Tommy smirked a little. Drank. Camille followed, wiping her mouth. “Uhhh...What are you wearing, Cam?”

“Oh.” She looked down at her open robe. “This.”

“Dr. Harper, huh. Hot. Classic too, you can’t go wrong. Think you got a winner.” Tommy chuckled, eyes scanning and Billy shot him a look.

“Thanks, Tom, that’s all I needed to pick my costume and...some people were not helping. I don't know though, little dated look. Bought it mostly for sex.” Camille side-eyed her boyfriend when he looked indignant.

“She dragged me to every Halloween store. Tried on every single costume. And we’re finally able to-”

“You’re dating Camille fucking Harper, man, suck it up.” Tommy scrunched his face. “Your smoking hot girlfriend played dress up all day for you and you complain about it? I should kick your ass, idiot.”

“Thank you, Tommy.” Camille pushed at his shoulder, giggling. “He understands.”

“Tease.” Billy puffed, leaning to take the bottle. “When you put it that way, I sound like the asshole.”

“You are.” Tommy winked as Camille’s arms wrapped around his neck.

“My heroic sweetie.” A kiss on his cheek. He melted into her, freckles glowing pink. That lingering friendship they’d had growing up fluttered in pieces. So much had changed.

Billy blew air out his lips, gave the bottle back to Camille when he stood.

“Break it up.” Billy squirmed between them. Sniffed the air. “Tommy...what are you hiding in that jacket?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He scooted back.

“Fess up, Hagan.” Billy, no boundaries, stuffed his hands into the jacket.

“Hey! Fucking thief!”

Camille cackled as the boys wrestled around before Billy pinned Tommy down with muscled thighs and plucked a plastic bag up. Few rolled joints waiting. Tommy was out of his jacket and wiggling under him pathetically at this point. Billy fucking Hargrove was straddling him and the guy was huge. His own stomach sparked low and stillness overcame him.

“You holding out on us?” Billy’s tongue swept over teeth.

“I was gonna share, asshole.” Tommy bucked up at the same time Camille snatched the baggie. Taking the prize and liquor with her.

“Sorry boys.” She tripped, scrambling off.

“Hey!” Billy forced a grunt from Tommy jumping off him. Hot on her tail as she went up the stairs giggling. The other boy followed. All laughing and buzzed. Billy tackled his girlfriend into the bed, sat on her legs as they fought. Tommy had one of Camille’s wrists, tickled her side until she released the bag.

Hearts thudding.

“Okay! Okay! I give.” She bloomed bright pink, head tossed back over the side of the bed laughing.

“Worst nurse ever.” Billy mused, falling beside her as Tommy dug into his pocket for a lighter.

“If Jim smells this, we’re dead.” Camille rose to open the bedroom window and lit a couple scented candles.

“Way to be romantic,” Tommy sucked, sitting in the bay window to blow out. Billy snorted and snatched the joint to follow.

“Shit. Not bad.” He blew it into Camille’s face, earning a swat.

“Jerk.” She tried it properly next, slipping next to Tommy. He took it back and inhaled, face scrunching as he coughed.

“Fucking lightweight.” Billy poked at him, stealing it.

“Quick, Camille, I need mouth to mouth.”

“I hate you guys.” She put her legs up, stretching. Tommy shifted back near the window’s edge, peering out and Billy plopped next to him. More whiskey passed. Camille eyed them in the sun and felt her heart flutter. An obscene sort of flutter that glittered. Tommy peered at Billy and brought Camille’s legs into his lap. She hummed when he massaged her ankles.

“Still my girlfriend.” Billy’s eyebrow cocked in question.

“My friend first.” Tommy grinned, pulling Camille by the legs toward him until his arm was under her knees. “I found her.”

“You were a dick in high school.”

“Hey, I get some growth points. You’re still a dick, bud.”

“True.” Billy scoffed and traded the bottle for the joint. “Like the whole dry cleaner business gig?”

“Aunt’s taking me under her wing,” Tommy shrugged, “good money. Family side business. I don’t hate Hawkins, you know. Worse places I could be...”

Billy felt that hit deep.

“...Stepping up in the world and all. Learning. Couple big cities are an hour drive away. I could get used to things. Carol moved on. Guess I should too.”

“How mature,” Camille leaned over him for a new smoke Billy was lighting, blowing it out the window into the warm breeze.

“I’m all grown up, Cam.” He winked. “You guys jetting for Cali after all this?”

“How’d you guess that?” Billy relaxed, pulling Camille’s ankles into his lap so she was draped over them in her messy nurse get up. Robe tossing aside. She sighed back into the pillows. One arm behind her head.

Tommy’s hand on her knee drawing circles into the tights.

“Pretty much the moment you got here, I knew you’d be taking our pretty Queen Bee away.” He chuckled, slipping the joint from Camille’s fingers. “She didn’t belong here. Always too good for this place.”

“Don’t say that. We all had some fun here. No denying it now.” She tapped her ankles together. “There’s no place like home.” Tommy laughed again, drank some alcohol down. Camille looked up at trees moving outside. Warm colored leaves illuminated by the high sun. More flutters. Fingernails idly tapped the window ledge.

“Any secrets about Camille I should know?” Billy elbowed Tommy’s side, earning a smirk.

“Nothing I’ll tell you, man, my loyalty is to her.”

“I’m the Keg King, as you hollered that entire Halloween party last year.”

“King’s lost without the Queen and so is the court.” Tommy winked at Camille. “Even the fool. Me.”

“No, Tommy, you were worthy Duke, at the least.” Camille pushed at his arm, fingers brushed down.

“Aw, you’re just saying that.”

“Weed talking,” Billy added which earned him a shove. Camille heaved herself up, glazed eyes sliding over them both.

“I am not just saying that.” She mused. “I mean it. You’ll hit the ground running after today, I promise. You have a lot to offer.” Her hand pushed his hair back, ruffling it. “Right, Billy?”

Tommy was too busy purring with Camille’s touch. Delving fingers over the grown out, soft locks.

“Keep your pot supplier.” He shrugged simply, stretching behind Tommy to put the smoke out on the roof.

“That was almost genuine.”

“He’ll get there,” Camille said, “won’t you Billy?” She tugged him into her for a quick peck over Tommy’s lap.

“Hey, cool it.” Two hands pushed them apart. Giggles followed.

“You made your Duke feel left out.” Billy had winked at her. Camille tapped a fingernail to her lips. “You’re just worked up because we were.” Are.

“Miss the part where my girl ain’t coming back, Hargrove?”

It dawned in those ocean eyes.

“...No, shit, you waited?”

“Fuck you.” Tommy shifted like he might get up, unable to move Camille’s legs off him.

“No, Tommy, it’s cool. He’s just being blunt.” Camille shot Billy a look. Hands on Tommy’s chest to push him back into place. “Don’t be an ass about it.”

“Shit...Sorry, man.”

“Did you just apologize to me?” Tommy blinked.

“I’m just saying it fucking sucks, alright? Not trying to make you feel like shit.” Billy snatched the whiskey up to drink. Offered it to Tommy like it was a further apology. The freckled boy warmed some and took it. Bottoms up. Finished the rest. Dunked it into the trash a few feet away. An arm went around Camille’s back, bringing her into his chest.

“You heard him say sorry, right, Cam?” Lips touched her temple when that raspy voice lowered.

“I did.” She snickered.

“Screw you guys.” Billy roused further amusement. His own cheeks were tinting from the warmth and alcohol. Too cute.

“You better cherish this girl when you two run off into the sunset, I swear to god, man.”

“He does now, Tommy dear, I promise.” Camille bit her lip, head lifting to see him. “We take care of each other.”

“We tried to before you rang that doorbell.” Billy grumbled.

“Ignore him.”

“It is a nice costume.” Tommy tugged for the collar. Camille hitched a breath at that.

“Little too tight.” Camille braced back on her hands, legs still across them both. Comfortable. “Don’t you think so?” Both boys shook their heads in tune as if they choreographed it. She blew hair out of her face. “Men .”

Tommy playfully snapped a garter when the skirt rode up.

“Hey!” She smacked his hand.

“Couldn’t help that.”

Billy snapped the other. Another slap.

“Shits.” She scooted back and got tugged by Billy over Tommy’s lap. Amusement fizzled when she decided to tease. “You know. The tights are kinda uncomfortable. You boys mind? Help a nurse out.” Both pushed at each other to unclip them.

“My girlfriend.”

“My queen.” Tommy shot back. “You get one, I’ll get the other.”

“Deal.” They stared. A beat.

Still fought trying to slip white tights off her. Camille watched in mild fascination and amusement. Let them sweat it and fuss over her. Billy scooted up to her side, tugged her into his chest with long legs still draped over Tommy’s own.

“You two are so ridiculous.” Camille nuzzled into Billy’s chest. A breeze pulled in to sweep her hair around.

“Probably my cue to scram before Hargrove introduces me to concrete, huh.” Tommy shifted.

“No, we’re having fun,” Camille clung to Billy and grabbed for Tommy’s sleeve. “Stay here. Plus, you’re stoned and buzzed, we can’t leave poor Tommy to fend for himself. Can we?”

“I mean...we can.” Billy laughed at her expression. “Just fucking stay man. Camille will lose her mind if you try driving.”

“Pssh, I could run a marathon.” He stretched and slumped back, half out the window.

“Tommy, stop that!” Camille pulled him in laughing. Torso landing on her. Squished between the two boys, her heart picked up. Thudded in her ears. That same obscene flutter so she stilled and swallowed it down. Billy adjusted some, peered at them. Camille’s fingers in Tommy’s shirt. His hands on her hips. Resting comfortably.

“So, before I moved here...you guys ever…?” Billy cocked his head.

“No!” They both protested.

“Not for lack of trying, I wrote...that letter during one of my many breaks with Carol.”

“Yeah, we read that.” Billy blurted. Tommy’s mouth fell open.

“And you didn’t beat the shit out of me?”

“I mean,” Billy’s eyes darted. Camille grew bright red, hidden into his shirt. “Wanted to at first, but…it was sorta hot.”

“…You guys got off to it, no shit!” Tommy jumped up on his knees.

“We did not!”

“You fucked to my dirty fantasy. Admit it, huh. Why can’t you look at me, Keg King?”

“I can still pound you.” Billy hissed. Camille was giggling into his chest.

“I made you guys all hot ‘n bothered.” Tommy bit his lip. “I riled up the King and Queen. Fuck being the fool or Duke, I’m a fucking King too. I’m the fucking Pope, Church of the Horny. Bless me.”

“In your fantasy.” Billy shot.

“Yeah, my fantasy, which you got off to. You’re welcome. You both owe me one.” Tommy shifted to lie down. “Fuck, that weed man.” He rubbed his temple and laughed, arm propped up to hold his head so he could peer at them. “So...tell me about it. What got you? I was detailed.”

“Nothing- ”

“Definitely the tongue stuff.” Camille offered and Billy’s head snapped down at her. “He asked, I can’t lie to that little face.”

“Right on...” Tommy wiggled his brow, sucked his bottom lip into teeth. “So you like that stuff, Camille?”

“If it’s done right.” Camille shrugged. Billy just groaned behind her. This was not happening. Tommy’s fingers tapped her knee in sync.

“It really is an art. Hargrove a giver?”

“He does alright.”

“Just alright?” Billy scrunched his face. “Okay, Miss Pull My Hair Out And Scream .”

“I so don’t scream.” Camille bickered with him.

"Oh, but you do."

For a moment, they forgot Tommy was reeled into this conversation.

“You’re such a liar. Fine, Billy is great at it. Just shut up.”

“Hard to make the Bee blush like that.” Tommy prodded. “Turns her into a little kitten.”

“I have the science down.”

“Share your secrets with me.”

“Both of you, shut it.” Camille pushed them off her in a huff.

“Make us.” Tommy came up. Inches from her. “Look at you, playing hot and teasing. But you’re just too damn cute like this and you know that, Cam. On the receiving end. Already admitted you like that end.”

“Isn’t she?” Billy got his bicep back around her.

“You two are friends now that you’re ganging up on me?” Camille mocked, arms crossing. Billy tucking her hair aside while Tommy was still inches from her face with his big, wandering eyes.

“I think the Bee just has a thing for guys with freckles.” Tommy winked. “Isn’t that right?”

“You’re getting close there, man.” Billy eyed him. Tommy didn’t move.

“Bothering either of you?” He said. No reply. “Been a little curious since the letter, I bet. I got you guys off, don’t deny it. I was there in spirit. And I’m here now.” Camille slid her eyes to Billy like she was asking a question.

He blinked at her. Head cocked without faltering. An, if you must , sort of wordless expression.

A palm pressed Camille’s back, urging her into Tommy’s mouth. Impact.

That thudding in her chest could have bloomed to a red glow. Neon hearts.

She moaned. Opened her lips for a drunken kiss that somehow sobered. Too many sensations at once. Billy’s hands sliding around her waist. Tommy’s on her hips. His tongue. Being pressed back into the wall. Fingers coaxed her chin to kiss Billy next with the same fervor.

Tommy’s mouth fell down her neck. All encouragement. Camille’s arm was up, hand catching Billy’s curls to urge his kiss on. She broke to push forward into Tommy, straddling him.

“Fuck.” Billy watched her bottom press out against the tight costume. Enthralled by her moving into the other boy. Camille came up for air, pushed herself back into the other wall.

“What the fuck?” She caught her breath. “What the actual fuck?”

“Doctors are allowed more than one patient.” Tommy joked, touching his mouth. “Shit, Cam, I’ve thought about that. Nothing prepared me for the real thing.” He sobered again, looked to Billy expecting anger.

“Do it again.” He whispered instead. Wavering slightly.

“You do it.” She retorted. “You’ve done this before, I can tell, Billy.”

“So have you. Heard all about that summer.”

“Oh, you told him about that summer?” Tommy flashed another signature crooked smile. “We all got around. No overlap. I wish.”

“I was a mess, can’t blame me.” She shrugged. “Other schools are fair game. Few threesomes. Some...it was just me and some guy from another school but...there were other couples in the room.”

“You guys are both way ahead of me.” Tommy groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Had a threesome back in Cali.” Billy admitted.

“Guy and girl?” Tommy watch him nod. “Shit man, I had you so wrong. Did...Did you?”

“Not really, I...a little.” Billy bit his lip in a way that was unlike him.

“Kiss Tommy and I’ll kiss him again.” Camille teased because it would only work if they all were in. Tommy perked up.

“Do me a fucking solid, man.” Tommy begged. One hand curled into Billy’s shirt. A tug. Billy just flickered his eyes over him.

“You talk a lot of big game.”

“I deliver. You read the letter.”

“Anyone can think about fucking.” Billy scoffed like he was the expert.

“Yeah, and some of us think about it twenty four, seven. Believe me, it helps. You got the guys who think about sports and money, whatever...and the guys who think about perfecting their tongue game. I don’t think about sex to just get off, I like making a girl feel so good. Pride thing.”

“Carol did have a lot to say when we had our sleepovers with Heather.”

“She did?” Tommy’s eyes got huge. Pride swelled. “You see, Billy?”

“I’m not yanking your chain to make you feel better.” Camille cut in before either could go on. Eyes on the fist curled into Billy’s sleeve.

“You ever kiss a guy before?”

Billy didn’t answer that. Just blinked his pretty eyes.

Tommy cupped the back of his head. Brought him in. Camille crawled forward to see their lips touch. A soft kiss that she didn’t expect. Fists clenched in Billy’s lap. He pulled out, eyes opening before Camille offered herself. Tommy had his fingers into long curls. All too pleased.

“Mmm.” Camille pushed him back again. Billy just sat there looking starry eyed. Broad palm cupping her bottom to squeeze. She straddled Tommy’s hips and kissed her boyfriend again. Hands all over her. A way of worship. Camille shuddered because it was unreal. How good they both felt. Thighs quivering when Tommy’s hips pushed into her. A curse lifted as she scrambled off them. “Boys, please, I... fuck I...”

“My thought exactly.” Tommy rasped. “Still blushing, Bee.”

“So are you, Tom.” Hazel eyes rolled. He came up, eyed Billy.

“Him, most of all.”

“Dick.” Billy shoved him to crawl toward Camille. Looking all worked up and sparkling with her lips swollen pink. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her again. Pushed his tongue in.

“Can I...” Tommy’s hand was on her knee, sliding, “touch you?” Camille broke the kiss. Bit her lip again before a nod followed. Billy watched too. Curious.

“You want this?” Billy said with his thumbs smoothing. “Us.”

“Yes.” Camille swallowed. “You?”

“We sure he’s any good?”

“You keep doubting me, just because I was a shit in high school.” Tommy touched his chest. “Let me prove it. We could play a game.”

“We could play truth or dare.” Camille had joked.

“And how do you want to do that?” Billy ghosted a smirk of disbelief. This was really their evening.

“Easy. I get Camille off with my mouth.” He shrugged, massaging her inner thigh. “Bonus points, she screams.”

“I don’t scream.” She cut in.

“Seven minutes. For luck. If you can’t do it, I finish her and you watch helplessly.” Billy replied then.

“Still here, boys.”

“I do it in under seven, you both treat me to some mouth action. I get to be king for a while. Deal?” Tommy’s grin made Billy shake his head. Blase about it.

“Deal. Camille?”

“I win either way.” She yelped as Tommy’s hands hooked under her knees. Jerked forth on her back. Head in Billy’s lap.

“Time says 6:27.” He’d remarked, lighting up another joint. Sucking, he put it to Camille’s lips until she puffed. Tommy pushed her dress up and cursed. Thanked all his lucky stars.

“Fuck, Camille, you know how many wet dreams started this way?”

“Charmed.”

“You’re wasting time.” Billy noted Tommy seemed unworried. Pushing her thighs apart. Thumbing her though those lacy panties. Camille’s eyes clouded over.

“Already wet, man, you should be shaking.”

“Whatever, keep talking.” Billy chuckled. Tommy pulled fabric aside. “Leaving them on?”

“Find it kinda hot.” Tommy peppered his lips up her thighs. Savored this. “Not to sound sappy, but this is fucking breathtaking. You’re pretty, kitten.” Billy snorted, not worried himself with Tommy’s chatter.

And then he went silent.

Camille gasped in surprise. Eyes lifting.

“Oh, my...” She felt that stab of hunger from this whole day swell. Tommy’s lips against her clit. Kissing deeply. Lapping. Fingers stretched her panties aside. Ate her like he was starved, eyes turned to Billy when his tongue plunged inside her. A wink. Billy felt hot again with Camille squirming in his lap.

“Camille?” The amusement fell. He fucked up this time.

She puffed, arching up. Fist pushed toward her mouth. Teeth digging to bite on something. Anything. Tommy moaned and ate her. Put on a fucking show of it. Billy eyed the clock. 6:28. Fuck, why was time so damn slow? Camille twisted. Almost like it was too much already.

“Holy shit,” she moaned loudly, “Tommy.” His tongue swirled before he sucked. One hand curled around her thigh and the other pushing her pelvis down. “Oh, fuck. Billy?”

“You’ve got to me kidding me.” He leaned down. “What the fuck, man?” Tommy ignored him, kept up. Tormenting her clit with no end in sight. Camille’s breathing picked up. She couldn’t help palming her breasts when the heat shot forth. When her nerves caught pure fire. “Hey.” Billy grabbed her wrists.

“Fuck, I’m...oh shit, I’m already...almost.” She whined, biting her lip and looking like she might be in heaven. “Holding my wrists is making it w-worse.”

“Hold it together, don’t you fucking cum.” He threatened.

“Cam, you want my fingers too?” Tommy mumbled.

“Yes!”

“No!” Billy let her wrists go.

“Please,” Camille licked her lips and felt aimlessly for fabric to hold, “please, let him.”

“He’s fucking cheating.”

“She asked nicely, man. Told you I only obey the queen.” Tommy plunged two digits in. Felt her clench like a vice. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” Pumping elicited a further gasp. Fingers twisted into cushion.

“Camille, do not blow this for us.” Billy warned.

“Ooh!” She spread her legs. Another curve to her spine. Gasping. Eyes rolling because Tommy H was playing her like a fucking fiddle. “Fuck! Babe...you’re going to...ah...be the one blowing this.”

Fuck.

He should have screwed her in that dressing room. Camille rocked into him without even trying. Tommy closed his eyes. Made it worth his while. Worked his tongue all over her until she covered her mouth to stop what might have been an almost scream.

“What do you say, Cam?” He teased, licking his lips. Thumbing her bud lightly.

“Don’t stop! Fuck! Just...oh, god.” She writhed there and Billy’s mouth fell open.

“You’re fucking me.” He watched his girlfriend cry out. “No, no. Camille, don’t you dare cum. Don’t do it.”

“I can’t...help it. Oh, fuck!” A tear squeezed out one eye.

“Atta, girl.” Tommy fucked her on his tongue and fingers with vigor. Watched Billy squirm because of it. Orgasm locked her up and Tommy didn’t stop until she was grasping up desperately at her boyfriend. Vibrating. A few softer kisses brought her down.

The bastard did it in four and a half minutes.

Tommy’s amusement didn’t halt when he grabbed Billy’s face to kiss him. Camille all over his lips. Mouths opened that time. Billy grew slack when it ended, huge blue eyes.

“I love to say this, but I told you so.”

“You fucking prick.” Billy shoved him.

“Yeah,” Tommy hovered to see Camille, “you hanging in there, princess? You’re pretty like this.” She puffed aimlessly, wobbled trying to stand and fix her skirts.

“You were supposed to hold that back, what the fuck?” Billy tossed a hand out.

“As if you could have lasted for that. He’s a fucking hurricane. Holy shit. Shit. I’m still...” She was trying to catch her breath. “Tommy... I take back every time I didn't believe Carol.”

“I know.” He pecked her lips. Eyes alight. “My turn. And then...I gotta fuck you.”

“Figure we should punish her for that. Christ, Camille. You couldn’t hold out three more minutes?” Billy hissed.

“He’s good.” She shoved him back. “You got yourself into that deal. I want to...keep having fun. But, nothing goes in my ass.”

“Not a problem.” Tommy cupped her jaw. Kissed her lips. “Can I get my reward first? Billy?”

“Not any good at it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Keg King. And Camille will offer some help, I’m bet. Look at her. Eager.”

She chuckled when Tommy fell back, her head on his shoulder.

“Billy, come here to us.” She reached out. “I want to play.” He fell into her. They just drowned here like nothing was beyond the window. Mouths touching. Palms all over. Billy buried himself in Camille’s neck when she craned to kiss Tommy. Obscene kisses with a whiskey spice.

“Love the costume, but...” Tommy opened a few buttons while Billy followed the trail. Nipping. “Let me see her.” Camille hummed as Billy pulled her dress open. A cherry red plastic zipper sounded. Tommy’s hand snaked down to stretch the lacy bra. Billy was cupping her tits, already teasing nipples with his mouth and fingers while she watched Tommy rub himself to the sight. “You’re fucking beautiful, Cam.”

Camille swayed, lost in the fire. She came up all plush and pink. Swallowed Tommy’s shaft down as Billy yanked her costume off. Wind cooled her skin. The sky painted all different colors. Billy watched his girlfriend bob her head like she needed it. Wiggling her hips before underwear was pulled. Swollen and sensitive. Dripping.

“Camille, fuck,” Tommy’s face twisted with pleasure. Fingers tugged at her hair. “You’re not sharing with Billy. Greedy girl.” He pulled her up for a kiss. She only smiled with a lax expression.

“Billy, kiss me.” She said. Lips wet from Tommy’s arousal. Billy’s tongue dipped into her mouth for a taste while hands slipped her bra off. Nude and exposed before her friends. “Truth or dare?”

“Now?” Billy scoffed as her arms went around him. “Truth.”

“Want to help me?” Another kiss, pulling him down against her body. Billy made a sound low in his throat. Eyed Tommy there again biting his lip. A glint. Camille crawled up him. “We lost the bet. All’s fair.” Fingers latched into Tommy’s shirt. Kissing all over the fabric.

“Fuck, Harper, I really might not leave this place.”

“Until the police chief drags you out by your intestines.” Billy joked, shifting up on his front.

“Better not waste anymore time, then.” Came the quip. A moan when Camille licked up his leaking shaft. Pulled Billy in for another dirty kiss, inches away.

“Truth or dare?”

Billy smirked.

“Dare.”

“Do to him what he did to me.” Lips curled. Stroking Tommy until Billy sank down. One hand curled into Camille’s, the other in Tommy’s. He moaned and the other boy about vibrated there, thrusting up. A gag.

“Fuck, man, sorry. Shit.” The words slurred. Digits tugged for curls and Billy jerked back, lips rosy and slick.

“Don’t pull it, asshole.”

“You’ve so done this before.”

Billy’s face disappeared in response.

He closed his eyes amid the moans. Camille sweeping those blond locks aside to stroke his jaw and cheek. Her breaking the motion to kiss him until they took turns. Tongues sliding together obscenely. Wet kisses down the girth. Camille cupped Tommy’s face next, buried her mouth into his neck until he was bucking.

“I’m gonna...cum.” He tried to warn. Hands gripping Camille’s arm. Billy holding his hips was answer enough. Another strangled choke before blue eyes lifted. Release down those pink lips. Camille opened her mouth for some and Tommy came next. Shoving Billy into the cushions as they pulled up their shirts. “Fucking pretty Cali boys.”

He just marveled at the couple. Worked up and gorgeous. All his for a night. He prayed he’d remember this dream when he woke. Tommy made quick work of Billy’s belt. Saw this vulnerability that was rarely displayed in bright eyes while Billy’s gaze lowered. Hands smoothing to tug for the jeans to come off fully. Camille helped them undress. Playfully tugging and tossing fabric.

The sun had gone down so they just looked at each other in the candlelight while the curtains blew in.

“Truth of dare?” Tommy asked with a knowing smile Billy matched.

“Truth?”

“How many times you think we can make our girl cum?”

Our girl.

Camille liked that. She giggled and curled down into the cushions. Free and shameless.

“I’d like to find out.” Billy swept her up at that. Dropping her nude frame into the bed. Camille playfully got under the covers. "No, no. You think I forgot earlier? I told you in that dressing room I'd finish you later and you decided to let Tommy finish the job."

"It's why I'm here." Tommy rounded the bed as Billy tugged covers aside. Camille stretched out, head on her hand there.

"Billy's very cross with me." She traced the sheet lazily. Tommy slipped in behind her, one arm snatched her into his soft body. Lips tracing the line of her shoulder up her neck. "Come, get in bed with us." She sighed back into hot flesh. Aimlessly felt for Billy as the bed caved. The hard lines of his body fell against her, lips opening for a kiss she then craned to share with Tommy. Hard as can be again, his cock pushed up between her thighs.

"Again?" Camille puffed, moaning when Billy's hand snaked down. Helped Tommy rub himself along her slit. "Fuck." Camille muffled herself into Billy's collar. Relentless rubbing made her arch for more of it. Tip pushed up just inside her. "Please?"

"What was that?" Billy's slick thumb trailed over her lips.

"Please." A whine when she was filled. Tommy groaned and pushed her over on her knees. Billy lifted for a kiss, held her arms until she sank down into his lap. Mouth open to take him as Tommy began to rut. Fingers pressing hips and tangling hair to pull. Three bodies joining together in fire.

It was strange to have another boy deep inside her. While Billy moaned and pumped up into her mouth. Uttered filthy things about how she was still being punished. A naughty thrill rushed. Camille lifted up to playfully nip at Billy's skin. Lip. Collarbone. Pec. He hissed, cupping her face as they moved together.

"Told you not to cum earlier and what did you do?"

"Tommy's fault." Camille hitched when a chuckle gave behind her. "You had to pay for the dressing room."

"Camille, don't take this the wrong way." Tommy slowed and Camille had started to turn when a smack landed across her bottom. A yelp erupted with widening eyes. "Fuck, I had to do that just once."

"Do it again." Billy let Camille sputter into his neck when second slap landed. Hands dug for his biceps. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

Thwack!

"Ah!" Camille arched up. "I get it." Fingers yanked Billy by the hair for another long kiss. A hand pushed up between her thighs. Caused her legs to quake until she slipped down Billy. Face puffing into sheets with an arm draped over his hot skin. Her boyfriend worked her back up. Didn't stop. Camille bunched fabric into her teeth, groaned a muffled sound. Eyes rolling to squeeze shut.

Everything went black then green then white then black again. Dots fluttered in circles. Tommy had fallen next to her. Sandwiched between them, she purred and moaned distantly. Felt hands massaging awareness back into her body. Billy nudged her on her back for his turn. Swore. Began to thrust while Tommy played with her tits, kissed from her neck to mouth. His fingers slipped down the lines of her, ghosting her raw bud to feel her tense.

Billy cursed again, hands cupped under her knees. Hips slapping for a sound that was wet and filthy. Tommy kept her in a state. Locked up tight while he rubbed light circles. Camille held his shoulders to kiss him again until spit trails left as they parted. He didn't stop beckoning her to another cliff. Mouth by her ear until she realized he was whispering.

"C'mon, Camille, give us another. You're so pretty, kitten. One more."

Lips almost drew blood. Spine drawing to an arch which made Billy about lose it.

"Oh, fuck you both." Camille whined aloud. A cry hitched.

"Yeah, that's the game you're losing right now." Billy felt his own end tip and pumped through it. Spattered cum between her thighs to fall upon her empty side. He realized she was still crying out. "Insatiable, Tommy?"

"She's got another in her." He attacked her neck and Billy curled in to assist. Camille wasn't sure who ended where and what fingers belonged to which hands. Billy and Tommy kissing her and each other. Holding her writhing, squirming body into the mattress. A mouth licking her clean and fingers pushing cum back into her like it was the hottest thing.

"Again, babe?" Billy teased. Fingers in Tommy's hair while he lapped. No words came, only broken chanting syllables. Thighs quivering. "You wanted to cum so bad. You know what we want?"

"Ah! Can I?" She swatted at Billy and jerked him closer. Felt his hands on her breasts again. "Can I?"

"Can you, what?"

"Can I fuck...fucking..." She covered her mouth. Rasped a cry between fingers.

"Close enough, just cause we love you. I assume any guy that eats pussy like that does it with love, right, Tommy?"

"Mmm." The moan vibrated Camille's body. "Ah!" Billy felt her locking for another small climax. Finally letting up, Camille sagged to catch her lost breath. Felt Tommy slink up to collapse upon her chest. Ear pressed to hear her heart thump. Made for a soft scene with her breathing and petting him there.

"Assholes..." She wheezed, smoothing her fingers into Tommy's hair. Billy leaned to kiss her gently, let one arm curl up around his head to guide him down for more. Switching off between him and Tommy, she melted down into the sheets. "There's no way I'm getting up." Skin pressed together, thighs sliding over each other.

"Is this an invite to the royal bedchamber?"

"Shut up." Billy mumbled into Camille's hair, thick lashes fluttering while he ran his nose up her skull. "We won't boot you. Yet."

"Admit you guys like me already." Tommy pulled covers up and settled in. Bit his grin back. Camille hummed and nuzzled into his side. "Hey?"

Billy snored. Face burrowed into Camille's hair.

"Figures." He nestled in. Limbs thrown all over. A haze of flesh and heat. "Lightweights." One arm shifted behind his head, eyes on the ceiling with a curling smile because this was the greatest night before sleep crept.

*** ** **

Tommy woke to a mess of curls on his shoulder. Blond curls. The shower ran in the other room.

"Hey, sleeping beauty."

Billy's head lifted with a scrunching expression to take this in.

"You're not my girlfriend." He shoved the smaller boy off, rolling over with a groan to take the sheets with him. "Asshole."

"You're way prissier than Camille, Hargrove, you realize that?"

Billy mumbled something about punching him.

"Cuties, rise and shine." Camille came out in a towel. Bright eyed. "Jim's home so no funny business." Billy's bed head lifted again. "Yes, you especially." She kissed Tommy on the nose and went over to kiss Billy awake. Pecking him obnoxiously until he tugged for her towel. "Hey!" Hands were smacked. "Showers, both of you. This room smells like sin." She lit another candle on her dresser.

"Is this like a one time thing? Cause I felt a connection." Tommy was up to pull his underwear on, eyes on Camille when she tossed her towel aside to dress.

"Wish in one hand, piss in the other. See which one fills first." Billy lit a cigarette. Scratched his nose with one thumb and got up, nude and groaning. "You sore?"

"Delightfully so." Camille pulled a dress over her body. "Shower. Dress. Breakfast. Don't wake the bear."

"You guys will still call me after this right?" Tommy pouted, getting up finally. "I can hit you up in Cali?"

"Stage five clinger already." Billy winked, blowing smoke. "You write us a few more letters, we might work something out. Camille?"

"You know," she shrugged, "I never did find an actual costume, we trashed the nurse getup. We could take a trip into the city. Two pairs of eyes are better than one."

Tommy's face lit up and Billy groaned.

"He's so ungrateful."

"Maybe we can convince him it's fun." Camille slid her arms around Billy's shoulders. A smile before she kissed her whiny boyfriend. "Please Billy?" Lips on his jaw made him immediately weak.

"Fine, Tommy stays in the car."

"Hey!

"We'll crack the window for you, man." Billy shrugged, dodged a pillow before he stole the bathroom.

"You feel better, Tom?" Camille set her hands on her hips, beaming some.

"Frankly, I forgot my own name last night," Tommy only laughed, "so I'm peachy. I won't make this weird at all." He rocked upon his feet, shrugging and she smirked at him.

"No, not one bit." Camille kissed his cheek. "Behave in here. I'll start pancakes." She slid out, peering around before creeping to the steps.

"You think you can get anything past me, Camille?" A throat cleared. Shit. Mayday.

"Uh...?" She brought her shoulders up, turning. "Jim? No..."

"You think I wouldn't find out, kid?" He stood there, arms crossed at his bedroom.

"It...just happened, I'm sorry. Tommy came over and we-"

"You guys got into my whiskey. I know."

Teeth pressed, hazel eyes flicking. Oof.

"Oh. Yeah. Right...that." She touched her head. Heavens above, thank you. "Sorry, we stayed in my room. Finished it. It won't happen again."

"Just ask next time, I might surprise you." Jim passed her in uniform, ruffling her hair on the way. "I'd rather you drink here than do it anywhere else. I was a teen once."

"Oh, Jim, you're so right," Camille was all giggles, bounding into the kitchen to turn with pink cheeks, "nothing gets past you, Chief."

A shiny smile flashed.

"Camille, you have anymore towels? Billy stole all of them up here." Tommy waltzed to the top of the steps in his underwear, spotting Jim there. "Ugh! Morning, Chief, great uniform. Pressed." He covered himself even still. Both the dumbfounded Chief and Camille pointed to the closet. The teen snatched a towel and raced away.

"...Camille, why was he-?"

"Breakfast, Jim?" Camille tossed a green apple he struggled to catch awkwardly. Hurried up to kiss his cheek before she was pushing. "Have a great day at work. Catch the bad guys for me. Love you!"

Jim Hopper decided it was better to just leave the teens alone this morning.

"Assholes!" Camille called, earning two matching hyena cackles in response. "See if you can get me to play dress up now."

She sucked in her cheeks, hid clear amusement, and went into the kitchen to get it started because curiosity was just too good.

It was going to be a long day with these boys.

#billy hargrove #Tommy H #Billy Hargrove smut #Billy hargrove x oc #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fic #SMUT #iconic filth #writing #Mine #request

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Ducktales Reviews: The Trickening!

Halloween Havoc continues! Louie’s greed and lack of concern for his brother’s feelings or well thought out schedule leads them to a real life haunted house with vampire clowns, dummies, a scary well lady and a gelatinous cube. Because there’s’es always room for gelatinous cube. Meanwhile Della wants to use Launchpad’s dangerous misconceptions about halloween to traumatize children for funzies and Donald had a problem with that for some reason. Also Scrooge is kind of an asshole on Halloween it turns out. No one is suprised. Ghosts, goblins, and full review with spoilers under the cut.

Happy halloween month everybody! Halloween Havoc, aka my spate of halloween reviews continues as I roll into my first actual halloween episode review of the season! Yeah weird but so far we’ve covered demons getting exorcisims, little girls thinking they can raise the dead, and a horrifying plauge guided by the human incarnation of all that is evil, but not the actual holliday itself. Weird ain’t it? Well that changes with this so as always pitter patter.

It’s HALLOWEEN here in duckberg, and the mansion kids are planning Trick or Treating. Natural given Huey’s OCD, he has everything planned out a and naturally the kids all have unique and adorable costumes. Huey is gizmoduck, though with a GK instead of GD, a nice nod to “New Gizmokids on the BLock’ From the original series, an episode I haven’t seen but have heard of so theres that. It’s also because he likely wants to be Fenton’s kid sidekick which.. yeah please do that show. It’d be so fucking adorable. Plus Huey needs to be happy for once without having to go through a gauntlet of misery first. Let my boy be happy. +

Anyways Dewey’s is rather disapointing as it’s a “pirate on vacation” which while hilarious and very dewey, is kind of an anti-climax after months of speculation. Webby is some kind of ancient demon king as apparently in the duckverse the origins of halloween are based on appeasing various monsters, and this is so she can hide from them effectively. And Louie.. is Huey. Which means putting on Huey’s hat and a terribly insulting impression of him.

Meanwhile Donald and Della are an angel and a devil, with, which I didn’t realize until a tumblr post, Della’s costume being the one one of the boys wore in the classic disney trick or treat short. So that’s a nice nod. Donald wants to nicely give out candy while Della wants to terrify the children. Both end up disapointed as Scrooge instead boots everyone from the house and locks the mansion gates, as he doesn’t like giving out handouts which.. yeah that tracks.

As it turns out Scrooge also has his own plans.. which are gloriously ludicrous, sounding like something Glomgold would do: He’s going to go trick or treating himself, as when he was a boy, this was the one time of year a poor lad like him could get treats and he worked his tail off to do so and wants to prove he’s still got it. And as we see later SOMEHOW he still gets candy. It’s like if THIS was actually sucessful.

I would genuinely not be suprised if Scrooge too hadn’t tried to get an oil well from an elementary school this way. As for leaving candy out he leaves out an empty take one bowl which is as clever as it is douchey. So in other words Scrooge in a nutshell. So with handing out treats and scares at the house a non-option, Della and Donald go to see what Launchpad’s doing since Beakly.. is.. I have no fucking idea. NO I really don’t, she shows up for the ending, but before that? If they mentioned where she was I clearly missed it because she’s just.. missing for most of the episode and given every other member of the main cast is accounted for this episode, it’s VERY noticable. Give her more to do dangit!

So yeah we get our two plots, which i’ll cover seperately, then cover the ending where they dovetail together. Kay? Kay.

The Kid’s Plot centers around Huey and Louie.. specifically Louie wanting to go to a real life haunted house while Huey, as mentinoed has heavily established plans for their night. As for why Louie would go into danger, well as usual for when he does that theirs something in it for him: Rumor has it no kid has ever made it out with their candy.. thus leaving decades worth of candy just waiting to be nabbed and thus never having to trick or treat again. One big score for a payoff.. which didn’t make a lot of sense on first thought and my best guest is whatever preservative Gyro used for Oxy Chew, since it was still edible decades later, was probably spread to other candies since there’s no way in hell Scrooge would pass up a zillion dollar invention like that. Either way works. Huey is outvoted as Dewey naturally wants the excitment and Webby wants to see if her demon costume works on actual demons. However things quicklky go wrong as they ecoounter a dewey dummy and a killer dummy, as well as a monster clown and a gelatonous cube, which yes. I may not play DnD but I love these things.

The kids escape the house by accident while tryign to escape and Louie, still being a dick about things, finds out Huey DID know abotu the stash btu avoided it and Louie lays into Huey.. a bit much honestly, feeling he was agaisnt it purely because it wasn’t on schedule.. when you know, Louie could’ve asked to put it on schedule or actually given a damn about this, especially since Huey’s planned their trick or treats EVERY YEAR, so he’s had a full year to ask for this insane idea, or even the short time he’s known about it if shorter. Sure huey might of sputtered a bit, but Louie knows his other siblings, Webby and Dewey could convince him to loosen up and include the house. Louie’s just being kind fo a selfish dick here.. however i’ts not so overwhelming as to overpower the episode, as he has been before and while he should know better about risking his family’s lives after “Timephoon!” it is in character for him to protiize a big score like this over other people’s feelings and it’s not even the first time this season he’s done that. So fair enough.

But we soon get the second best reveal of the episode: As the kids are backed into a corner by monsters.. they grumble theres no candy and it turns out the monsters.. ARE REAL.. but their traditional monsters like frankenstein, dracula, and the bride of frankenstein, just dressed up like this to scare kids. As it turns out the WHOLE THING is an elaborate yearly scooby doo hoax to get kids candy, with the brilliant twist it’s done by actual monsters> As the vampire points out they can’t exactly shop during the day.. or he can’t at least, so this is how they get candy for the year.. at tribute if you will. Also the Gelationous Cube gets a nice hat as you see above. It’s a REALLY clever twist and I absolutely love it. I DID NOT see it coming and even with some spoiler screenshots I thankfully did not have it spoiled for me. REALLY good stuff.

As for why Huey’s been so obessed with his planning.. it’s actually really clever and really good character stuff: Huey simply got really into it because back when they were with donald this WAS their adventure for the year: the one time he let them cut loose and have fun, and he got a real kick out of it.. and Louie getting candy for life kind of destroys that. And that’s why Louie still works here.. because he instnatly realizes from this that was the problem and apologizes in his own way. It’s a nice bit of character from both: We’ve rarely had their pre-mansion lives factor in and it’s nice to see it for a change, and it’s nice to see Louie isn’t all dick, just like 20% dick. Unforutnately having no candy dosen’t appease the monsters who are pissed and descend on the kids.. until.. well for the until we have to back up a bit. So onto the adult plot we go! Della and Donald go to Launchpad whose dressed in a jason mask and ash williams/jason coveralls, weilding a power sander and having barricaded his place. After he scares some children, a bit too much, and Della and Donald are reallyd amn confused, he explains.. and we get the best reveal of the episode.. which given the above is saying something but it’s clear like the “blath” gag in “Astro BOYD” and the non-anthro ducks gag last week, this is one of those things Frank has been keeping under his hat all series. So as a boy Launchpad crashed his tryke into the mansion, ran into the monsters after reading off a candy wrapper.. and now assumes he unleashed a horde of monsters onto the world every halloween.. and tha’ts what he assumes the trick or treaters are. I just .. dont’ have a lto of words. This is pure comedy gold and easily the best gag of the episode and oen fo the best of the series. It’s clever, fresh, and really fits the character. Naturally Della wants to exploit this to terrify children ebcause she has underlying issues to adress while Donald tries to stop her. Thankfully before Della can get launchpad to scar children for life, Scrooge shows up and fights launchpad.. it’s part of why I also find scrooge’s dickery acceptable as launchpad beats the shit out of him.. it’s still an even fight, as not to suspend disbelief, but Scrooge still looses. I mean he gets out of being trapped in his candy bag easily because scrooge btu still, props to launchpad. So Launchpad decides to go face his fears and Donald and Della decide to stop him before he doesd a muder on a child. Which leads to an AMAZING climax as Launchpad scooby doo chases the scared monsters around as they have no idea what the fuck’s going on and hte monsters end up really enjoying his scar eof htem and bowing to the master. It’s a good way to end it. After Della explains what’s going on, Louie and Huey decide to explain halloween to Launchpad by taking him to the once house he hasn’t been: the Manor. Scrogoe has finally opened it up, with a line of kids no less, the monsters bond with some kids in line. As for why.. as Webby sadly figures out Scrooge is charging admission, thakns to dewey who thought an all night candy store was a good idea which.. yeah it is. So everyone gets a happye ending and the monsters hang a photo of hte night up in the mansion. A really sweet ending, pun uintended but eh it’s welcome.

Final Thoughts. Easily one fo the series best. While the characters are a bit exagerated in places, i.e. della, launchpad , scrooge and louie, it works for the plot well enough and the jokes well enough to make it okay. My only real complaint is a lack of even a cameo from Lena and Violet, as it feels weird to not even have htem in the ending, much less trick or treating with their friends. It just feels odd and could’ve used a throaway line. I get WHY not , as Lena even pre-blue would’ve destoryed the tension with the monsters, but it still feeels really weird to not have them. But it’s a minor quibble in an otherwise REALLY funny and creative episode and a fun halloween treat to revist every year from now on. Really good work. That does it for this week. For more halloween treats, follow this blog throughout october. So far i’ve done reviews of Demonicsim from Star Vs The Forces of Evil for Tomtober, Croaked, the Casagrandes day of the dead Special and the first of Marvel’s mini-series adapting Stephen’ King’s epic novel The Stand. And until next monday, or sooner if you decide to check any of that out, happy halloween!

#halloween #ducktales #the trickening #huey duck #louie duck #della duck #donald duck #dewey duck #webby vanderquack #scrooge mcduck #launchpad mcquack #monsters #super creeps #keeps me running running scared #october #reviews #animation

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beebrainedstudios · 3 years

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ADSOM Headcanon Voices

At least for the villains/antagonists anyway (Holland’s here too), since I’m still figuring out how I think everyone else sounds. BTW, we’re ignoring accents here because someone (AKA myself) is horrible at recognizing them; this would mostly be about tone, enunciation, and whatnot. I’ve included some examples and explanations for anyone who’s curious about my reasoning too for fun. If anyone has any of their own headcanon voices to share, please do! I’d love to hear them! I’m also including descriptions for each link for those who don’t have time to listen or who don’t want to be spoiled for the mentioned shows. Enjoy!

Athos- Either Jonathan Young or Dan Stevens. Examples:

https://youtu.be/B6AlxZeTKpY (It’s a cover of Yzma’s song, a removed part of the Emperor’s New Groove soundtrack. I recommend listening to both the beginning verses and the final chorus-chant to get a full feel of the range in energy).

Jonathan Young: My take on Athos is both extremely energetic and extremely dramatic, so of course my first pick would be something based on a Disney villain song! Any one of Jonathan Young’s Disney covers would work here, but this one is the most fitting. There’s just something about the way Young jumps around in speed and almost seems to be growling some of the lines. His tone has both playfulness and roughness in it that suits Athos well; also, he’s absolutely the type to sing a villain song.

https://youtu.be/TZpG7i6H_LA (It’s a clip from the first season of Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, specifically one focusing on the first season’s villain, Scarlemagne. If you watch the whole clip you can see an example of both excited Athos and calm Athos. The clip also features an example of his laugh and general musical ability. I’m sure some of his lines as Matthew Crawley from Downton Abbey would work too, but this is the first example that comes to mind.)

Dan Stevens: Stevens’ voice also does a really good job of summarizing the manic energy that I attribute to Athos, plus there’s a villainous laugh in there that sounds exactly like a hyena cackling- which fits the White King. This is also a good example of both how Athos plays the piano and when- he’s absolutely the type to throw fake parties for his own amusement. The way he gets so excited and gives out the orders to speed up while also getting more heightened- it just works for Athos, I don’t know how else to describe it.

Astrid- Cate Blanchett

https://youtu.be/Qi1fR98vFME (It’s a clip from Netflix’s Mowgli movie, specifically the scene where Mowgli meets Kaa. The most accurate lines to me are at roughly 0:50, 1:00 and 1:50.)

Astrid in almost every way is more difficult to figure out than Athos, but I really like this voice for her: it’s husky but sophisticated, deep but rich. The way Blanchett speaks so smoothly and so menacingly while hardly raising her voice seems very Astrid, as does the way she sounds so detached from everything. Astrid doesn’t need to emote much in her voice since I hardly think she emotes at all, but the undercurrent of interest and intensity she has is still present here. Or maybe it’s just the fact a giant snake’s talking, who knows?

Holland- Steve Blanchard

https://youtu.be/dvm18AHMeYM

https://youtu.be/8gVA0UN1Q3M

(Both of these are songs from the Frankenstein Musical- the former is The Waking Nightmare and the latter is These Hands. Waking Nightmare is a good example of the lower range of Holland’s voice, such as when he’s angry, while These Hands is a good example of his higher range, such as when he’s excited or anguished. Either one works and both are fantastic, I highly recommend just listening to the songs anyway due to how gripping they are.)

Its obvious (at least to me) why this voice reminds me of Holland- there’s so much raw emotion in the way Blanchard sings/speaks his lines as Frankenstein’s monster. To me, Holland seems like a character who would monologue or even sing like this, trying to vent his frustration at just how crummy life is to him; there’s no reason he can’t be very talented at doing so. At different points I imagine Holland’s voice as either high or low, so whatever voice I attributed to him needed to have the range to switch between the two, and it also needed at least a bit of roughness since Holland’s voice is described in canon to be gravelly. Blanchett doesn’t disappoint in either regard.

Osaron- Multiple (It changes depending on his state. Not all of these answers are human; as such, this section’s structured a little different.)

https://youtu.be/E7WQ1tdxSqI (This is a clip from 2001: A Space Odyssey, where the Hal AI is deactivated. The latter half of the clip is when the AI begins to sing- this is the part that sounds like Osaron to me.)

I’ve never seen this movie, but I know this scene. The AI that sings in the clip is voiced by Douglas Rain, and it encapsulates what I imagine Osaron sounded like when Holland first found him in Black London. Like in the clip, his voice lagged and swooped in pitch due to his exhausted state, with some grammatical errors occurring as Osaron was still actively trying to remember Holland’s language. Fun fact, this song was the first one sung solely by a computer (not in this movie specifically though), so it has even more of an Osaron vibe to it.

https://youtu.be/9altRF7LWgE (It’s a compilation of Aaravos clips from the Dragon Prince cartoon.)

Besides the fact that all of the quotes themselves fit Osaron, the pitch and general sneakiness of Aaravos’ voice match exactly what I imagine Osaron to sound like at full strength. The voice actor here is Erik Dellums, and he does a really good job hamming up the whole “trust me even if you know it’s a bad idea” vibe. The only thing that isn’t 100% exact is that I imagine Osaron speaks a little quicker than this sometimes; he’s described as practically burning with pent-up energy, so some of that would likely be reflected in his speech.

https://youtu.be/ZhlZ-cPO0Xw (It’s the Prowler’s Theme from Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse.)

Now for a fun (if a little strange) one! If you listen to this instrumental, there are these electronic “roaring” sounds (heard most clearly at 0:38, 0:51, and 0:57). These are actually distorted elephant sounds used to help the track seem more intense (which they do, especially as the music progresses), but they also sound a lot like what I imagine Osaron sounds like in his natural state. Oshoc don’t really use a verbal language to communicate on their own (as stated above, Osaron canonly has to use magic to translate spoken language; even if Black London had the Vitari language, Osaron likely didn’t need to know it if he was magic to begin with), but they do still make noise, mainly in the form of distorted thrumming hums of magic. It’s kind of like the infrasound that many animals and even dinosaurs used to communicate. Holland probably heard faint sounds like these as he was approaching Osaron’s throne for the first time, and in the final battle when Osaron’s control starts to slip, he probably starts “humming” to let off some steam.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this weird little list of voices!

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lexfritterwrites · 3 years

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Let Lips Do What Hands Do - Part 11

Y’all, I haven’t posted in here since they updated it so everything might be terrible. Anyway, I’ll do my best. You can always catch me on AO3.

It's April, and Addie feels like crying most days. In fact, she actually has cried for the past eleven days — once in the shower, twice over her cup of tea and the other times where when she was in bed alone. Taron's been filming in Ireland for three weeks, and it's a glimpse at how life would be if they were to stay together in all the madness.

"Sad again, huh?" Jack says, catching the gray look in her eyes. "I feel I should be offended you're not that upset about leaving me."

Addie throws a sugar packet at him, hitting her mark on his cheek. "I know things between us won't change when I leave. You'll just be a phone call away."

"Taron will too."

"That's different. I don't think I like this ache, this pain." Addie absently stirs her tea. "In the words of Elphaba, 'If that's love, it comes at much too high a cost.'"

"You know she ends up with the scarecrow at the end of that musical, right? I mean, we saw it together. I wrote a review which you edited."

Addie rolls her eyes, too done to deal with Jack today.

"I love him, you know. And to think we won't be together because of our location, I think I would rather not be with him at all."

"Your call," Jack says. "I know you're scared but I think the two of you could make it work, and that's coming from a guy who stays away from relationships. You don't have to split because you're half a world away."

"What if he meets the one but can't act on it because of me? Or what if he does act on it and I'm left devastated? It's a real poop chute."

"It'll work out, Addie," Jack says, covering her hand with his own. "It'll work out."

Addie slumps and rests her head on the table. "Why?"

Jack gently musses her hair. "You didn't not date for years while you were here and the first guy you do consider turns out to be fuckin' perfect. You really know how to pick them."

Addie laughs, feeling a little lighter at the thought.

It's her whole year on display, the premiere of the students' films adapted from classic novels. Four fully written, produced and edited films will be turned in with her thesis, but the gala tonight will only feature twenty minutes from each with the students having a few moments to present before their film. It's an affair she's invited the whole school to as well as their family and friends, and even though Jack is by her side, the one person she wants to be there most isn't. Taron's caught filming in Ireland; Addie understands but still doesn't enjoy it.

"Look at what you've done," Jack says, watching the rows of students talk excitedly amongst themselves, no doubtedly ready to display their hard work. "Not even a full teacher yet and you've got them inspired. That's a noble thing."

Addie squeezes his hand. She takes the microphone and heads to the center of the stage. Pausing a moment before delivering the introduction she's prepared, she smiles. The kids eagerly sitting before her are a tribute to her and her hard work and creativity, and this life is about her just as much as it is Taron.

She takes her seat next to Jack as the first group's film rolls across the screen, an updated retelling of Sense and Sensibility. It's funny, well thought and inclusive of the community, what with Edward Ferris having evolved into Edwina and Colonel Brandon an Indian man in the British navy. Everyone claps as the students presenting The Picture of Dorian Gray take the stage. Addie's phone buzzes in her pocket and she risks a quick chance to look at it.

Can we watch the full-length versions this weekend? - T

Sure, if you want. - A

I do! At least that one. I'm dying to see how they did the marriage proposals. - T

Addie whips her head around, looking to see him somewhere. There are faces illuminated by the screen but then she sees him, sitting on the edge of the row with his hood pulled up over his head; no doubt he didn't want to be recognized. He waves slightly when he sees her, and Addie smiles.

He came after all.

I'm so happy you're here! - A

I'm really glad I could make it. Will sneak to bar at end so as not to detract. - T

Sounds perfect. - A

Thank you for coming. - A

Addie is extremely proud of everything the students accomplished, and the cooking class made a giant cake for the ocassion. She sneaks a piece for Taron in her bag, poses for pictures with the kids, compliments the parents for raising some great hopes for the future, and then she's dashing out the door.

"Adelaide, you're incredible!" Taron says, standing up from the table. He wraps his arms around her and kisses her cheek.

"I can't believe you're here," she says, her face buried in his neck. "How'd you manage?"

"Flew in this afternoon," he says. "Wanted to surprise you."

"I'm very surprised," she says. "Very happy, too."

Taron kisses the side of her head before pulling away to point her to a secluded booth. "I want to hear all about the rest of the videos. When can we watch them?" He holds her hand across the table, leaning towards her.

Addie bites the inside of her lip, studying him. "What's wrong?"

"What?" Taron asks, shifting backwards. Addie knows she was right to expect something.

"Taron, I know you," she says quietly. "I know when something's up. What is it?"

"No, Adelaide. I came here to celebrate you and the work you've done and I don't want it spoiled."

"I feel like it's already spoiled if you don't tell me what's going on. Is everyone okay? Your mom and the girls? Your dad?"

"Everyone's fine." He exhales loudly, looking at the table. "It's two more weeks."

"Oh." Addie sags against the cushion. "Oh."

Taron rubs her knuckles with his thumb. "I know it's really shitty, but it is what it is."

"It's okay," Addie manages over the lump of emotion lodged in her throat. She feels like she's gagging but it's just the thought of his absence for another two weeks just a couple of months before she's supposed to move back to the United States. "You chase your dream and I'll chase mine."

"Thus, though we cannot make our sun stand still, yet we will make him run."

Addie snorts, swiping a tear off her cheek. "Marvell. Good choice."

"Anyway," Taron says. "We've got tonight."

"Bob Seger, a modern poet."

It's Taron's turn to laugh now and he shakes his head. "Seriously though, can I take you out to dinner and then stay up with you all night watching the work of your students?"

"Yes, I would like that."

"Good," Taron says, moving quickly from the table. He drops a note on its surface and helps Addie back into her coat.

"Can I make an amendment to the plan though?"

"What's that?"

"Can we just pick something up and take it home? I really don't need an audience to just want to be with you and I'm wearing Spanx so I'd really like to get out of them and into my pajamas."

"Deal," he says. "You look bloody gorgeous but comfortable is something I also enjoy. Your place or mine?"

"Mine is closer but you have a better TV so let's do that."

"Sounds perfect," he says. He could offer to run back by hers so she can gather things, but he knows everything she needs is available at his. Tucking her beneath his arm, he kisses the side of her head — she'd taken the news of his delay better than he would have expected.

They're curled up in his bed and halfway through the updated retelling of Frankenstein when Addie stretches her fingers across his chest.

"What is it, cariad?" Taron asks, shifting his eyes. He can see the crown of her head and the tip of her nose, and he can see her fingers flex against his shirt.

"I'm thinking about us."

"Oh?"

She pauses the video and sits up, and it's then he sees the tears in her eyes. "I think when I leave, that should be our end."

"Adelaide." He bolts upright and reaches for her, but his fingers don't actually land anywhere. He can't touch her now.

"Being apart from you these past few weeks has been hell. I never thought I would be someone to feel this way about anybody, but here we are. I'm exhausted. It feels like a piece of me is missing when you're gone, like smiles are less genuine and laughter does little for my soul. I can't imagine living my life for extended amounts of time without you, feeling this way. So if we just enjoy the time we have left and part as companions who once loved each other, I think that would be better."

"Do I not get a say in this decision?" He asks softly, his chest tight and his jaw returning to a painful clench.

"Of course you do," she sighs. "But what is the logical outcome of this?"

"Fuck this. You can sleep in the guest room tonight." Taron moves in a flash, storms into the bathroom and slams the door shut.

"Taron! Taron, no!" Addie frantically scrambles off the bed and futilely twists the doorknob. "Taron! Taron, please."

She can hear the shower running and she sinks to the floor. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.

Taron finds her half an hour later curled up on the floor with her cheeks red and eyes blotchy. He wants to be angry, he can feel the cold inside him wanting to push her away, but he can't.

"Addie, come on," he says, gently collecting her in his arms and setting her upright. "I'm hurting too, you know."

She nods blearily as he leads her back to bed. "I didn't mean to ruin what we have now. I feel like shit, and now I really feel like sh—"

"Addie, I know," Taron says. "What you're saying makes sense, but it really fucking sucks when it's said out loud. You would rather be without me than be far away and with me, and I suppose that makes sense. Your chances of moving on are better if you're not thinking about some loyalty to me."

"Me moving on?" She laughs. Taron thinks her crying must have left her too weary to think properly. "It's you. You'll move on long before I will and I don't want you to be stuck with me."

"That doesn't matter," he says, taking her hand. "I think you're right though. We have a few good weeks left together and we should spend them as happily as we can. Let's not fight or what-if ourselves anymore. You're here, I'm here, and we should let that be enough for now. I can't think on it anymore."

"Is it really okay?"

"For now." He wipes a tear from her cheek, knowing his own should be joining it had he not just cried in the shower. "Let's go to sleep and sleep very late into the morning beside each other."

Taron bites his nail, a habit he'd gotten into since ditching cigarettes; his teeth weren't thanking him but his lungs certainly were.

"There he is," Jack says, pulling out the chair across from Taron and sinking into it. "Mr. Egerton."

"Jack," Taron says, shaking his hand. "I wanted to talk to you about Addie."

"I figured," Jack says. "She told me about her plans of departure."

"Yeah, and it's not good. How do I get her to stay?"

“You don’t."

"Jack, please," Taron says, rubbing his forehead. "I can't have her leave."

"And you can't have her stay either." Jack says softly. "I know you love her, Taron, as do I, but I also know she won't stay. She'll come to regret the decision as well as you if she stays. Going back to Washington has been her goal for six years. It's all she's worked for and all she's wanted. You need to let her go."

"Can you?"

Jack snorts his laugh. "I don't have a choice."

"We could talk to her together."

"That's not going to work."

Taron drops his head to the table, his chest feeling unbelievably tight. "I don't know what to do."

"Taron, there's an obvious solution here."

"What's that?"

"Go with her."

Taron grunts. "You and I both know that's not logical."

"So what? You can't do for her what you want her to do for you just because you're a famous actor who happens to make more money?" Jack leans back in his chair. He's really liked Taron, like him for Addie, and he needs Taron to see the sense in this before his like gives into loathing. "You're not giving up her dream so don't let her give up hers."

"She's your best friend. How can you be so calm?" Taron crosses his arms in front of him, elbows still on the table, and he lets his chin fall to rest against them.

"Addie is more than a best friend to me," Jack says. "I truly believe she is my person, even if there's no romance. Addie wasn't even supposed to be born, yet here she is. Incredibly determined, driven and happy."

"I know that." Taron leans onto his cheek.

"I know you do," Jack says patiently. "That's part of the reason you love her." He reaches across the table and squeezes Taron's shoulder. "You have to let her go."

"Why is that the only option?" Taron moans, rhetorically putting the words into the universe.

Jack chuckles as he leans back in his chair. "That's the only way she'll come back."

"You think she'll come back?"

"I hope so," Jack says. "For both our sakes."

Taron laughs. He'll have to make time for Jack when Addie is gone.

He finds her asleep on the couch when he returns home, and he gently brushes a hand across her face.

She opens one eye to look and smiles when she sees him. “I must have dozed off.”

“Yeah,” he says softly. It spreads through him, a calm peace. She is leaving to pursue her dreams, and there is nothing he can do to stop her, nor would he want to. He kisses her tenderly, finally accepting it. “You want to go take a nap upstairs?”

“That sounds nice,” she says, sitting up next to him. “Hey, are you okay?”

Taron smiles and kisses her again. “I’m totally fine. I just really love you.”

Addie’s laugh warms him and she leans her head against his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

Taron takes her hand and quietly leads her upstairs.

#taron egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton fan fiction #let lips do what hands do

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Exactly What You Need: Owen

To the Anon who won the “guess the post-apocalyptic New Zealand kids’ show Owen Grant had a guest star role on”: Here is your requested drabble! Owen Grant, the night he ordered Kauri.

CW: Owen is a fucking creep. Implied/referenced assault/abuse with younger!Vincent Shield, manipulate/abusive thoughts, dehumanization. Owen Grant is a dark man and people triggered by abuser thoughts regarding rape/assault should please heed that and stay safe

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings,

It started with the hair, and the eyes.

Originally, he hadn’t really thought about Vince, exactly - he was just… he was just kind of lonely, and he’d been scrolling the Whumpees-R-Us site, thinking about how it seemed like basically everyone with a name worth knowing and a good stock portfolio had one of the Box Boys or Box Babes now.

And it might be nice to have someone around here to talk to. It’s not like he could talk to the fucking Roomba.

The condo was gorgeous, and he went out to lunch a few times a week with Nicole and some of the former costars and everything that he’d kept in touch with, went to conventions, even wrote an introduction for a book on the dark side of child acting that was pretty well received. He went to the gym three days a week, he watched a bunch of Youtubers that updated pretty regularly. Owen kept himself busy, basically, and none of it stopped him from being really. fucking. lonely.

His mother had called one night after he’d been drinking for two or three hours straight, slowly killing a bottle of gin and a bag of limes while sending increasingly drunken text messages to no one in particular.

He and his mother still talked two or three nights a week. He was probably the only former child actor he knew who still had a really close relationship with his mom… or at least as close as your relationship can be when you’re lying to her about fucking everything about yourself.

She knew anyway. She’d been the one to help him cover it all up with Vince, what happened, why they never spoke again. She knew - but her constituents were bigoted assholes and in the part of the country Carlotta Grant set her sights on, you have to play to the bigoted asshole or you don’t get elected.

His mom was the biggest bitch he knew, but she wasn’t a bigot, exactly. Just happy to roll over for them for the sake of her Senate career. It would kill her ambitions if too much about Former Child Star Owen Grant got into the news, so Owen lied to everybody and everybody pretended to believe him. He’d been lying about it since he was still acting, it’s not like it was that hard to just… keep lying, right?

Even if he’d sort of hoped quitting acting - getting away from Vince and what happened - making his own life out here away from everyone… he’d sort of hoped he could stop lying, then. But nope. Mom got all political and Owen kept on lying.

He’d fucking hate her for it, if he didn’t love her so much.

In any case, she’d called and Owen had been trashed and it… well. The whole time he’d had the Whumpees-R-Us site up, looking through options, scrolling past faces that weren’t right. Or they almost were. But they weren’t the one he wanted.

“Mom, I just want someone here who cares about me,” Owen had said, heavily, into the phone. He knew his words had gone slightly slurred, and he waited for her derision - his mother was the queen of it, after all, of cutting you apart with words alone. “Listen to this - a Whumpees-R-Us nonproductive pet can arrive with any skillset you require or phys, physical combination of- shit, sorry, Mom, I’m drunk-”

“Yes. I can quite tell you are. Don’t be ridiculous, Owen, you’re not getting one.”

“I’m a grown-ass man, Mom, and I say I am.”

“Would you at least order a girl?”

There it is, Owen thought. Carlotta Grant didn’t care if her only child bought a living human person, just if it fit the version her constituents wanted to see.

He took incredible pleasure is pausing long enough to take another long sip of lime and gin before he answered, “Oh, it’ll definitely be a boy.”

“Owen…” Carlotta sighed, heavily. “Darling. We talked about this.”

“No, you talked about it. At great length, no matter how often I asked you to stop. I want a boy and I’ll have one. Here’s a compromise, Mom - what if I don’t let it leave? I’ll keep it in here with me, they can train it to not be able to even walk out the door without me.”

“Owen…”

“Take it or leave it, Mom.”

Carlotta went quiet again, for much longer this time. Then she finally said, “Fine. Owen… I know that my decision was difficult for you-”

“All of your decisions are difficult for me, Mom.”

“Your decisions haven’t exactly been easy for me, either. Vincent Shield could still cause trouble for me, if he ever chooses to air what you did to him publicly.”

“He won’t. We told him I’d stay away from him if he kept it hush-hush, and he did. He won’t say anything to anyone, Mom. You can trust him. I couldn’t, but you can. It doesn’t help his career either, you know, if they find out about him.” Owen felt his throat catch, had to swallow hard against the tears.

“Right. We don’t need them find out about your latent sadism, either, but I suppose I must put my trust in the career aspirations of Vincent Shield. Get whatever you want, Owen, but I had better not see it step one foot outside of that condominium if it makes it into the news.”

They spoke for a while longer, about nothing and relatives and people who had recently died or pissed his mother off, senate bills she was worried about and Owen’s latest project bankrolling a documentary exposing a monopolizing pharmaceutical giant, and the whole time Owen’s mind wasn’t on the conversation at all, but on Vincent fucking Shield.

They’d been inseparable. They’d made promises to each other. Then Owen had fucked one tiny little thing up - just the one thing, and it hadn’t even been that bad, what he’d done, and Vincent had probably liked it anyway - and Vincent had left and never came back.

He glanced down at his empty glass with a bit of ice that still clinked, and then up at the Whumpees-R-Us website. Create a completely customized option for minimal surcharges and receive the perfect pet of your dreams.

He poured more gin, added another twist of lime. “You know what my perfect fucking pet is?” He asked no one in particular. The Roomba beeped softly under the couch in its docking station. “Vincent Shield’s my perfect fucking pet. Make him feel pretty fucking sorry for what he did. They don’t have anyone on here who even looks like him…”

Then his blurry, bleary eyes caught a line at the bottom of the pictured Box Boy options. This does not represent the totality of what Whumpees-R-Us can provide. Send us your requirements and we will dedicate ourselves to fulfilling your every need, with an added surcharge.

So he clicked on the custom order form for Box Boys, watching it load, blinking at how fucking huge the page was. And it started with a simple box that asked what kind of pet you were searching for.

Owen very nearly wrote I’m so fucking lonely.

Instead, he settled for Companion.

The screen blinked and new options appeared. Platonic, Romantic, Domestic, or Combination?

Owen snorted. Platonic. He wasn’t some fucking sicko, he was just looking for someone to bring some life into this place. But… maybe it was just that he was drunk, or maybe it went deeper than that. In any case, a thought came to mind. He pictured wide blue eyes in a face that used to be pale, now tanned on all the movie posters. Thought of those eyes full of tears, for him. Then… then he thought of what it might be like if those eyes weren’t full of tears, but something else.

The thing Vincent had owed him, and had never been able - or willing - to give.

Then he unclicked his previous decision, and chose Combination.

We will return to detailed specifics of your [Combination] requirements in a later section. For now, please list physical requirements for your Box Boy.

Owen swallowed, looked up the photo of the movie poster for Dimmer Switch, with 20-year-old Vincent Shield and 17-year-old Owen Grant in action poses against a dark background and a glowing light. Vincent’s face was clearly visible - soft and slightly sweet-looking, wide blue eyes, curly black hair. Long limbs and kind of a slim body type, not as muscled-up as he was now.

Not that Owen kept up with his career or what he looked like now, or anything.

He started with the hair, and the eyes. At first it felt wrong, like he was trying to build a Frankenstein’s monster for himself, but it was all perfectly legal and if it was really wrong, why were so many people buying them now?

No, this was fine.

Owen was fine.

He was going to bring Vincent Shield home, and once Vince came back here, he was never, ever going to be able to leave.

He checked every box, wrote down details. At the bottom of the physical requirements section there was a spot to upload photo references, and he added the movie poster, some other pictures from magazine interviews from back then, he and Vince together in a few of them. Shots of Vince with the mop of curly hair and a bright wide smile, flashing whitened teeth. Shots of Vince with his arm around Owen, the both of them grinning for the photographer.

It took nearly two hours to finish, and by the end of it he’d stopped being drunk or maybe he was drunker than ever, but he’d entered a place of perfect clarity about his decision. He was about to spend a lot of money on this boy.

It was going to be perfect.

In the final box for any added comments not covered by the questionnaire, Owen Grant typed, Make it so he can never, ever leave me without fear. Make it so he wants my touch more than anything else in the world. Make it so he would lose his mind before he’d lose me. I want him to be sweet, and kind of a soft person. I want him to put up with anything I do to him.

He paused, considering, and then added one more thing.

I want him to love me.

Then he pressed SUBMIT, made himself drink a glass of water, and passed out in his bed.

When he woke up the next morning, the Roomba was in the middle of a cleaning routine and his phone was ringing. He squinted at a number he didn’t know, but decided to answer it on kind of a whim. His number was private and only a few people had it - if someone was calling he didn’t know, it was probably one of his mom’s staff members. “Hello?”

“May I speak with Mr. Owen Grant?” A warm, melodic voice spoke on the other end of the line.

“Ah, this is Owen Grant.”

“This is Karen Renford, Client Satisfaction Director at Whumpees-R-Us. We received your request for a custom order last night and I’ve just had time to review it. There is… an exceptional amount of specialization in this order form, Mr. Grant.”

“I… I know. Shit. Oh, sorry.”

“No apologies required. I indulge in a bit of profanity myself on occasion.”

“The, the order form… was it too much?”

Too much to hope for, that Vince’s blue eyes could be all for him. Too much to dream, that he could fix all his old mistakes. Too much, to think he could keep someone here when Vince had run so far, so fast, and made it impossible to get close again.

“Not at all. We are aware of your… connections, Mr. Grant. We would love to work with you on this request, and hope you would let your influential mother know how excited we were to be given this opportunity to truly prove the merits of our methods.”

Owen tried not to audibly snort.

“We already have a suitable candidate in mind who is most of the way through his basic training, although there have been a few… hiccups.”

“Hiccups?”

“Ah, it’s all part of the process.” She did not quite laugh, but there was a lilt to her voice that suggested she wanted to. “645898 is a sweet soul at heart, once you take apart the rest of him. I think he’ll be perfect for what you need.”

“So why the phone call?”

“It is customary for the company to directly contact clients of your… discerning and exacting taste. Considering the costs associated with so many specialized requests-”

“I am more than able to pay the amount owed, Ms. Renford.”

“Oh, we know that. This isn’t about money at all, Mr. Grant. Whumpees-R-Us is dedicated to client satisfaction, and it’s my job to look at this form, speak directly with you, and ensure that you receive exactly what you need.”

“So you can make him… want to stay here? Not able to leave?”

“Can we make him ‘love’ you, as you requested on your form?” Her voice held no mockery, no hint of judgement. “Mr. Grant, your request is considerable, but I believe we can ensure that your boy won’t ever be able to take a step out the front door without you by his side. We can make sure those big blue eyes are focused entirely on you, no matter what you do to him.”

Owen’s free hand clenched slowly into a fist, and something twisted and untwisted inside of him.

Vince’s eyes, all on me. No matter what I do.

“That sounds perfect,” Owen breathed out, shifting in the bed. “I want him to think I’m safe. That I’m the safest thing in the whole world.”

No matter how much I hurt him.

#whump #box boy #box boy multiverse #owen grant is a nice guy #pet whump #dehumanization #erase to control #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #tw: abusive language

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Thirteen

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Unspeakable Acts

I should be doing more.

She couldn’t shake the guilt.

I should be combing the state. I should be pulling the land apart looking for him.

Fear was stopping her. Contentedness. Security. There wasn’t much of it in this new life of hers but the little that was there was enough to quell the potential possibility of uncertainty.

Why should the words of a known liar spur her in to action anyway?

But what if he’s not lying.

She just couldn’t rid her mind of the circles she kept going in.

Staring into the murky water, Ada tried to picture for the hundredth time what her brother would even look like, all these years later. Thirteen years later. Would he have changed his name? Would he even remember her?

Why are you even thinking about this when he’s dead?

But what if he’s not.

Lifting her head with a long inhale, she banished the thoughts from her mind, or tried to. When she wasn’t working, when she wasn’t with Arthur, they were always there, sometimes loud, sometimes quiet.

Today was a loud day. The actions of the O’Driscolls only hours ago had brought them back into sharp focus.

She was tired, so tired, of the uncertainty, of the doubt. Should she just start looking for him, just for that tiny chance of ‘maybe’?

But he is dead.

But what if he’s not.

Again, back to the start.

The sound of cantering hooves down the main path was yet another welcome distraction.

Pushing herself up, Ada turned on the jetty and brushed the dirt off of her hands onto her thighs as she walked towards the three arrivals. Lenny, Dutch and Arthur slowed their horses and, as she approached, she very quickly realised something was wrong.

Dust and sweat covered them, there were bruises on their faces and Dutch had a nasty looking red mark on his forehead. Other members of the group gathered around them as they dismounted and were already asking what had happened so by the time her hands were cupping Arthur’s face, he was already explaining.

“There was an incident at the station. Angelo set us up. There was no money there, nothin’.”

Her heart dropped as she stared at him, Lenny taking over.

“The law turned up real quick. Probably had someone watchin’ the place, waitin’ for us.”

Oh, fuck...

“Dutch, are you all right?”

She finally looked away from searching Arthur’s features to look to their leader at Javier’s question. He definitely looked... off.

He smiled slightly. “I’m fine. Just took a knock to the head. A lie-down is all I need, that’s all.”

Lenny helped him towards the house, the group disbanding with murmurs and sympathetic noises.

Ada returned her gaze to Arthur’s. He was watching the older man, his mouth set in a thin line. Concerned.

Her hand dropped to take his.

“Come on,” she murmured, leading him to the side of the house.

He didn’t say a word, following her. She took him to the shack on the water at the back of the grounds, only releasing him when the shack blocked them from the view of the house. She spun, cupping his face again, and his hands went to her hips.

“Are you all right?” she said before he could speak.

Nodding, he exhaled a breath. “Yeah. I just... I knew it, I fuckin’ knew it wouldn’t go right.”

“Do you truly believe it was a set-up?”

“Yeah. Can’t be anythin’ else, Bronte owns the town.”

Her heart sank again, her stomach twisting as her hands moved to his chest.

“Arthur...”

“What? What is it?” he prompted when she didn’t continue after a moment.

She swallowed hard, her voice low. “What about what Angelo gave me, Arthur? About the bank? Could that be a set-up?”

He took a breath before shaking his head. “I don’t know. Probably not. Hosea had heard about it, too, and from someone not close to Bronte.”

“But Angelo gave them to me specifically to give to Dutch, and now he very much appears to have set him up?” She shook her head, blowing out a breath. “Why do that if he’s his supposed friend?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart.”

She wanted to go on, to figure it all out, to find an answer, but he looked so tired and worn out she managed to hold her tongue. Glancing towards the house, her fingers curled into his shirt.

Concerned lovers needing a few moments alone was good enough cover for peace but people were always milling about.

“Hey.”

Her gaze darted back to Arthur. Cupping her cheek, he smiled gently.

“It’ll be all righ’. Whatever happens, if somethin’ does, it’ll work out.”

There it was again, the blind faith. She didn’t want to get into another argument right now.

Returning his smile, she nodded. Then, rather than allowing lies to pass her lips, she raised her chin and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His arm instantly wrapped around her lower back and pulled her closer.

He whispered beautiful words into her ear, his lips left a burning trail down her neck and his hands held her anchored to the moment.

She closed her eyes to the world.

—

He was gone the next morning.

Rolling over, she stretched her legs out, her arms wrapping around his pillow. She stared out of the window on the other side of the room.

Thomas.

The bank.

Colm.

Dutch.

Her mind picked up the stream of anxieties she’d suppressed with Arthur’s help from the day before. They’d been shoved away by him insisting she read to him from the book, ‘you and Hosea won’t shut up about’, in his room while he inspected his bruises and cleaned his guns and knives. Then had come the call for dinner and he’d made them sit beside Hosea so they could discuss the book, well, her and Hosea anyway; Arthur just watched them both, slightly bemused as they might as well have been speaking Latin. Then, they’d returned to his room and he’d insisted that she carry on reading because ‘I must be missin’ somethin’ about this Frankenstein feller’, and so she had read to him as they lay on his bed, nestled together, his fingers idly playing with the ends of her hair. Then, she’d closed her eyes and the next thing she knew... Here she was. Awake.

She knew he’d orchestrated it all to distract her. That made her chest ache.

But he didn’t know the half of it. And here the thoughts were. Again.

She only had one conclusion; she didn’t know what to do.

So, she put a distance between the issues and herself, a barrier. Delusional, wandered into her mind before she quickly dismissed it.

She took her breakfast with the girls, listening to Mary-Beth explain how wonderful the tailor’s in Saint Denis was, that they should all go, that a night out in the town with just them would be nice and exactly what they needed. No one could be bothered to argue that that would be ridiculous and risky. Mary-Beth needed her fantasies, anyway.

She and I are like two of a kind.

It was a quiet day. Dutch was apparently still spending the day resting, not making an appearance. His lack of action seemed to slow down the general activity in camp, everyone staying close, besides Arthur, wherever he was, and Ada took the day to help the girls out with anything they needed. Later in the day, she took a watch with Sadie, delighted to laugh with the other woman and share a cake Sadie had bought in town.

“Oh, I missed cake,” Sadie groaned through a mouthful.

“Mmh, me, too,” Ada agreed, brushing crumbs from her mouth.

“I used to make ‘em as often as I could and me and Jake’d eat ‘em in a day. I could make damn good ones.”

“I’d be honoured to try one some day.”

Sadie snorted. “Sure, let’s go huntin’ in the bushes for an oven.”

Ada laughed, looking back towards the main path. “Hey, you never know what you could find out here.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the locals would be very accommodatin’.”

Sadie fell silent as Ada chuckled, tapping the butt of her rifle against the dirt. The silence lingered.

“I’m thinkin’ of goin’ off in a couple’a days.”

Ada’s gaze darted to her and she paused.

“Oh, really? Where would you be going?”

Sadie watched her. “I’m gonna go after the O’Driscolls. What remains of ‘em, anyway.”

Ada couldn’t help but pause again. Her mind raced. What could she say? It would be a waste of time to try and dissuade her from doing so, Sadie wasn’t the kind of woman you dissuaded from anything, but what else could she do? Encourage her? Should she be jumping at the chance to help her? Would Sadie be suspicious if she didn’t? Mercifully, Sadie continued after a moment.

“You’re more than welcome to join me.”

Not an order, just an invitation. A gentle invitation.

Ada smiled lightly.

“I’ll think about it.”

She’d deluded herself into thinking she could have just ignored her circumstances. Yet fate had dealt her a Sadie-shaped hand, and it—

“So...” Her eyes darted back to Sadie as the older woman spoke, her lips twitching. “... You gonna tell me about you and Arthur or what?”

Ada laughed, very much welcoming the relief it brought.

“Oh, Sadie...”

“Is that the sigh of a woman in love?”

Ada laughed again as she shook her head, looking down at her hands. “No, no... Just of a woman enjoying a certain situation she’s found herself in.”

“Well, good for you, lady. I ain’t known either of you long but I can tell you’re both happy.”

“Yeah, it’s something,” Ada smiled.

When Sadie left to hunt, the invitation rolled around in her mind for the rest of the evening until she forced herself to retreat to her bandstand, Arthur having not returned. Again, the invitation greeted her as her first thought of the day when she rose. Upon getting breakfast, she discovered Arthur must have returned some time in the night because there he was sat at the table with Dutch and Hosea. They were deep in conversation so she didn’t disturb them or even try to catch his eye, instead opting to take her bowl of porridge and sit on the jetty, watching fish swirl about in the water.

‘You’re more than welcome to join me.’

I should.

I don’t want to.

And there it was. That thought, that ugly, cowardly thought, that had burrowed into the back of her mind and no matter how hard she tried it just wouldn’t go.

“So, guess what I saw last night.”

She nearly dropped her bowl at the sound of his voice and boots behind her.

“Jesus Christ, Arthur...”

He chuckled as she narrowed her eyes at him, taking a seat beside her.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t realise you’d lost your edge.”

“I was just very much enjoying my breakfast.”

Another lie to add to the mountain of them.

“Sure, Pearson’s porridge is just that good.” Lighting a cigarette, he shook the match out as he grinned at her. “C’mon, though, guess.”

Raising her eyebrows, she shrugged. “I have no idea, enlighten me.”

“An alligator.”

If her eyebrows could have risen any higher, they would have. “... An alligator? You do know we are surrounded by them here?”

He chuckled. “Nah, not just any alligator, darlin’, it was the biggest alligator I’ve ever seen in my life, probably that anyone’s ever seen.”

“Right, and what were you doing out seeing a big alligator?”

“We were securin’ a boat, me and Dutch.” He continued as she frowned, “So we can get over to Bronte’s.”

She set her bowl down. “You’re going to Bronte’s? Why?”

A corner of Arthur’s mouth lifted slightly. “Seems Dutch’s taken the trolley incident very personally.”

She stared at him. “What’s he going to do with him?”

Arthur shrugged. “The aim is to get some pay-back. Rob him.”

“Right.”

She knew it would be patronising and would take their conversation down a route she certainly didn’t want to go if she pointed out how well guarded the place would be.

“I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come.”

She blinked. “Do I want to go with you and rob Angelo Bronte?”

He nodded, taking a long inhale from his cigarette.

She was about to politely decline, wanting nothing else to do with the man, when it hit her.

I could get answers.

He could be keeping correspondences. There could be information on Colm’s whereabouts.

She grazed her teeth over her lower lip,

“Do you know what, Arthur Morgan...” He grinned as she smiled. “I think I’d very much like to come and rob Angelo Bronte.”

—

They went that night.

The boat barely made a sound in the water. Thomas, a man Dutch somehow seemed to know who lived in the heart of the swamp land, was good, his staff barely disturbing the surface as he pushed them along.

It had been an interesting place to disembark from, Lagras; a collection of shacks and jettys and mud that might have possibly passed as a very small village. They had ridden out there together, she, Arthur, John, Dutch, Lenny and Bill, and left their horses tied to a post outside Thomas’s shack. Thomas had emerged from within, a wide, warm smile on his face that had her warming to him instantly, despite a sightly bizarre joke he’d made about how pleased he was ‘The Night Folk’ hadn’t got them. They’d just laughed politely. People and their fairy tales.

Ada sat beside Bill in the boat, half-listening to him protest that he had never said he was a sharp-shooter in the Army. She half heard Dutch retort with glee that, ‘ah, yes, he’d been ‘the nation’s most loyal latrine digger’. She blocked them out as Arthur laughed and Bill got high and mighty about his service.

She had no idea of the layout of the mansion, no idea how many rooms there were or where Bronte could possibly hide. That didn’t matter, though, it wasn’t like they were going to sneak in and have the chance to run around finding him. They’d go in guns blazing, use the element of surprise. Did Dutch even know how many men would be guarding the place? No. The element of surprise and gumption trumped that, apparently.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, bringing her back to the boat.

“Hm?”

Turning, she found Dutch smiling at her.

“I was just sayin’, Miss Annie, that Arthur should never leave love aside ‘cause it’s all we got, ain’t that right?”

She glanced from him to Arthur, then back again. “I think so, Dutch.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Dutch exhaled a breath as he nodded. “All we got is the love for each other.”

Glancing at Arthur again, his eyebrows raising slightly, she then returned her gaze to the front, hoping she hadn’t missed something vital.

Soon, the lights in the distance grew brighter, and she could just make out the shore, barely able to discern the muddiness of it from the murky water. They all bar Thomas stepped out, Dutch whispering to him where they would meet. Thomas wished them luck as they made their way up the bank, crouched.

“Come on, quick, stay quiet,” Dutch hissed to them as they neared a high stone wall.

He seemed... almost impatient. Jittery and excited all in one. As if this was some prank they were going to play. She didn’t know what this was going to be; she just needed time and the powers that be on her side.

She didn’t know how they were actually going to get—

Bill, Lenny, Dutch and John leapt up, gripped the top of the wall, and began to hoist themselves up and over, groaning. Her lips parted, she looked from them, to Arthur. A corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other as he arched an eyebrow.

“You need a hand?”

“Yes, I think I bloody do.”

Chuckling under his breath, he laced his fingers together and crouched slightly. Shouldering her Repeater and stepping into his hand, her arms above her head, he then pushed her up and she grabbed the top of the wall. Gritting her teeth, the wall scraping against her forearms slightly, very grateful she decided to wear trousers, Ada heaved herself over. She dropped down on the other side, Arthur following a moment after. She glanced at him, his smile lingering as he passed her, caressing her back gently. They joined the other men at a large crate, kneeling.

“Lenny, Bill, you’re with me,” Dutch murmured, gesturing behind himself at the stairs, “Arthur, John, Annie, you take the left side. If you see a shot, you take it. Okay?” He smiled as they all nodded. “All right, then. Good luck, gentlemen and lady.”

Ada gave him a smile as he met her gaze, inclining his head.

Thank you, my liege.

As they all turned away, she followed close behind Arthur and John, keeping low against the stone wall. They didn’t speak, moving swiftly and quietly along to a small set of stairs. Heading up them, at the top it opened out onto the back garden, beautifully trimmed hedges and clean stone tiles spanning out, with stone statues and fountains here and there. Small hanging lights on them illuminated some of their way, and ahead of them lay the house, grand and huge and imposing.

Suddenly, John, leading the way, gestured they go to their left and they ducked behind whatever was closest, spotting two heavily armed guards up ahead. Licking her lips, Ada adjusted her grip on her Repeater. Just when exactly would the element of surprise—

Gun fire rang out, echoing across the stone garden.

Her head whipping to the side, she saw John and Arthur, having half-risen, shooting over the tops of their chosen covers. She could hear Lenny, Bill and Dutch firing from their near adjacent position, too. She hadn’t heard a guard call out so one of them must have taken the first shot. From John’s expression, she would have put her money on him. Rolling her shoulders, she leaned out and joined them.

The guards were yelling at each other in Italian, fumbling slightly in their effort to respond quickly. Hell, maybe the element of surprise and gumption really was all they needed.

John advanced forward, Arthur behind him and she followed; it seemed the guards would not have much time to try and respond at all.

“We’re comin’ for you, Bronte!” Dutch called out tauntingly as the two groups drew nearer. “Send out every man you’ve got!”

They were rounding the largest fountain at the centre of the garden and nearing the stairs that led towards the great house. Guards fired down at them from the porch and balcony above but their little group were better shots and had better cover.

“Just give up, you bastards! It’s over!” John yelled, and she knew it must have been him to fire first. The hatred that must be coursing through this father’s veins for these men.

“You crossed the wrong man, Bronte!” Dutch added.

You, or John, I wonder.

Both of them and Arthur were barely taking cover, unlike she, Lenny and Bill who were using the statues. Bullets flew over their heads as guards shot blindly, trying to quickly take over from the men before them who had fallen. It was all so loud, how the hell would they get this done before the law invaded the place?

She didn’t have time to think about that.

She shot at the men coming out of the doors, her heart pounding; she didn’t know when this had become easy, when it had suddenly become shoot, kill, on to the next, shoot, kill, on to the next.

Maybe when she’d accepted it was ‘us or them’.

Guards were still calling out from the balcony but now no one was coming to replace them, and the porch was empty.

Dutch realised it in the same moment she did. “This is not over yet! Head to the house!”

The men surged forward but she stayed behind, firing at the last three men on the balcony. Once the last man had fallen to the wooden boards, she pushed herself up and jogged across the small space to the stairs, climbing up them. The men hadn’t gone inside yet and she glanced to Arthur to frown at him when John shot the lock with his shotgun.

Ah.

“Good! Now kick that damn door in!”

Arthur obeyed Dutch, striking at the heavy doors with his boot and they flew open, crashing against the interior walls of the house.

“Look out!” he called as a guard darted into the hallway that lay before them, firing in their direction. They pressed against the exterior walls as Arthur knelt and shot him, his body falling heavily.

Another man appeared from the other side of the hallway and it was Lenny who got him, reaching out and firing. She peered round, wanting to see what the layout was like.

Her stomach dropped. The place was huge. A room to their left and a hallway, a room beyond that, rooms beyond that, and ahead of them, it was so vast. And, with all the noise and for all they knew, Bronte could have escaped by now. Where the hell would they begin searching.

That thought either hadn’t crossed their minds or it had and didn’t deter them, for the men surged in, shooting instantly as Bronte’s men began to run out of the many rooms.

There were archways everywhere so they couldn’t even hide behind doors, it was just a matter of shoot first before you were shot.

“Bunch of God damn jokers!” Bill yelled as they split up without conferring, dodging into rooms and dealing with any men that stood within them. “I’ll kill you all!”

Ada followed behind Arthur and John who had moved ahead into what must have been the central room of the house, a marble-floored foyer with a staircase to her right and a—

Staircase.

Glancing at Arthur and John, both of them distracted by the front doors suddenly bursting open and two guards appearing, she darted across to the stairs and moved up them swiftly.

Foolish to go up on her own? Probably, but logic told her Bronte was a man who hid and sent his men out to protect him. No, he wouldn’t have left yet; he was too arrogant for that. Her heart pounding, once she’d made it to a small landing and turned to take a shorter set of stairs up, she slowed, keeping against the wall. There was no movement up here, none that she could hear anyway.

Silence suddenly came from the floor below as she made it to the next floor.

“All right, let’s spread out, he’s hiding somewhere!” she heard Dutch call out.

Shit, she’d need to move quicker.

She looked left, then right. There were doors every few feet apart. How could a place have so many fucking rooms? The hallways didn’t even have dead-ends, either, that she could see, anyway, they just turned and went on.

Fucking hell, think...

Something moved in her peripheral vision. Turning her head to the left, a man appeared from a room, two revolvers raised. Gritting her teeth, she was a second quicker, firing at him and sending him stumbling back with a loud groan.

“Who’s up there?” Dutch.

“Annie?” Arthur.

She was running out of time.

“Lenny, keep that door covered!” Arthur again.

“Bronte must be up there, let’s go!” Dutch, excited.

Pick a God damn door.

She didn’t need to.

The door before her opened and a man stepped out, snarling, but, over his shoulder, she saw him, darting out of sight. Dodging to the side, she grabbed the man’s arm, shoving it away so his bullet struck the wall behind her. She could hear them coming up the stairs behind her as she shoved the man against the door-jamb, grabbed his revolver from his hands and used his surprise to shove him behind her. He stumbled and fell down the stairs, making Bill call out as he came to an abrupt halt. She got to see his disgruntled expression just before she closed the door and—

Pain spread throughout her right arm as a bullet slid against her bicep, tearing the skin open, and buried into the door. Gasping, she instinctively spun and dropped into a crouch as a tall man aimed his gun at her again. Raising the revolver, she fired at him, her bullet tearing through his stomach. As he hit the ground heavily, she almost didn’t hear Arthur calling out, their footsteps close to the door.

“Annie?!”

Gunshots suddenly sounded from the hallway, though; more men must have been hiding. Gritting her teeth and ignoring both the sounds and the pain of her arm, Ada pushed herself up; she had to use all the time she was given.

The small alcove she was in opened out into a beautifully furnished bedroom, but there was only one way to go. Dropping her repeater and moving the revolver to her right hand, she rounded the large bed, heading to the closed door opposite. She could hear movement within. Taking a breath and adjusting her grip on the gun, she then gripped the doorknob and shoved the door open, the revolver raised.

Angelo Bronte greeted her, stood in a bathtub at the back of a marvellous bathroom, in a beautiful nightcap, robe, trousers and slippers... and a gun raised.

Her breath caught as he snarled and pulled the trigger... but no bullet came out.

Her heart thudding against her ribcage, anger swept over her and all fear left as he pulled the trigger again and nothing happened. He spat out a short word in Italian, most likely a curse, and hurled the gun at her. Ducking easily, her jaw clenched, she rose up and strode towards him.

His demeanour changed instantly, his hands raising as he stepped out of the tub.

“Okay, okay, signorina, let’s just—”

Gripping the lapels of his robe, she tugged him forward and pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple.

“Where is Colm now?” she asked, a distant part of her marvelling at how cold her own voice sounded.

Bronte exhaled a slightly shaking but still amused laugh. “Oh, Signorina O’Driscoll, you cannot be serious?”

She struck his temple with the butt of the revolver.

He fell out of her grip as she loosened it on him with a cry, gripping his head with one hand. Looking up at her from the floor, he spat what were no doubt insults at her in Italian, his features twisted in rage.

“Where is Colm, Bronte?” she asked again, her calm voice cutting through his tirade.

He laughed. “Like I would tell you, what are you going to do to me if I don’t, huh? I know killers, Signorina O’Driscoll, and you are not one.”

A faceless voice entered her mind.

Would you kill for Thomas?

Yes. Yes, she would, even after all this time. Even with the possibility of it being in vain.

She struck him again. The gun cracked against his cheek this time, and he fell onto his back, hissing and cursing at her again.

“Oh, I’ve killed, Bronte, I’ve just never enjoyed it before,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Where is he?”

He snarled again, staring up at her. “I’m not going to tell you, you fucking whore cunt, you are nothing, you don’t matter, you have nothing—”

She realised a second later that she’d done it.

She aimed the barrel at his head, drew the hammer back and lay her finger on the trigger.

He cut off from his tirade abruptly, freezing.

Rage coursed through her but she stood just as still as he was.

“Tell me where he is,” she said, so quietly.

He was silent for a moment. Then, he smiled.

“No.”

The final test.

For Thomas.

The final thing Angelo Bronte would see before he descended to hell would be her, standing over him, the barrel of the gun pointed between his eyes like he was an animal, a cold—

The bedroom door burst open.

Both she and Bronte jolted as Arthur and John surged in, their guns raised. The four of them stared at each other, then John smiled as he lowered his shotgun and shouldered it.

“Well, I’ll be God damned...”

He strode towards them as Arthur also lowered his gun, calling out, “In here, Dutch.”

Licking her lips, Ada stood back as John passed her and grabbed Bronte, hauling him to his feet.

“My friends, my good friends,” Bronte smiled, releasing a slight laugh. “Okay, okay, name your price, every man has a price, name it! I surrender!”

John snorted as he punched him, knocking the Italian man out cold. “What a God damn idiot...”

“Hey.” Ada turned to Arthur as he gripped her right forearm gently. “What’s this? You okay?”

Her gaze dropped to her bicep and the blood staining her brown and white shirt. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine, I think it’s just a graze.”

Arthur exhaled a heavy breath and tugged his bandanna free from his neck. “We’ll get Grimshaw to look at it when we get back,” he murmured, releasing her arm so he could wrap the bandanna around the wound, pulling it tight.

Wincing slightly, she then caught his gaze, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, a corner of her mouth lifting a little.

“Should we kill him?” John interrupted before Arthur could press further, rising from where he’d checked Bronte’s pockets.

“Nah,” Arthur replied as he finished tying the bandanna, dropping his hands. “Let’s take him to Dutch.”

John nodded, stepping over Bronte and passing them. “You can carry him, then. I ain’t carryin’ that piece of shit.”

Arthur nodded, shouldering his gun with a sigh. “All righ’.”

Ada followed them out of the bedroom, John leading the way with Arthur behind him, carrying Bronte over his shoulder. Picking the repeater up that she’d dropped on the way out, she held it in her left hand and kept a grip on the revolver in her right. Her arm ached but she ignored it. She was relieved they hadn’t wanted to hear the story of how she’d apprehended him, John probably too full of rage at the man who had kept his son to care now that they had him, and Arthur too distracted by her wound.

They made it to the stairs when they heard it. Whistles outside and voices shouting; the law were finally here.

About damn time, she thought as the men cursed.

“Let’s go, come on!” she heard Dutch call, having already gone down the stairs.

They moved quickly, descending and meeting with him, Bill and Lenny.

“Come on, we’re gettin’ the hell outta here!” Bill yelled as they ran for the back doors.

They heard the front doors once more burst open behind them, this time, though, it was officers surging in.

“Put your guns down!” one of them yelled, though he was quickly silenced by Lenny.

John, Dutch, Bill and Lenny turned and gave her and Arthur cover as they ran through the back doors and out into the garden.

“Look out!” she suddenly called, shoving Arthur to the side as officers appeared from behind the hedges.

Ducking to the side and using columns for cover, they fired back, John joining them.

Luckily, there was only a small group of them, and their own group could swiftly move down the steps, darting across the stones.

“Push up on ‘em!” Lenny shouted.

“Sorry, boys, nobody’s goin’ to jail today!” she heard Dutch call out from behind her, jubilant.

They ran and fired as they went, speed seeming to work in their favour.

“Come on, let’s get outta here!” John called, the first to make it down the small set of stairs that led to the back of the property.

Bullets came from behind them, though she sensed the officers were being somewhat cautious, probably suspecting they had more members lying in wait.

No, just us six lucky fools.

Instead of heading to the wall, though, Dutch, taking the lead, led them towards a tall set of open gates and out onto a jetty.

Oh, so we could’ve avoided the wall.

Then, she saw Thomas on his boat, gesturing for them to hurry, and she sped up, close behind the men.

“Put him in front, Arthur. Bill, you help him,” Dutch said of Bronte, glancing back at the house.

The officers were definitely being cautious, hanging back even, though they continued to fire.

John, already in the boat, helped Bill to remove Bronte from Arthur’s shoulder, dropping him down into the front of the boat, grunting slightly. Arthur rolled his shoulder as he sucked in a breath, before stepping closer to her and gently pressing a hand on her back. She took the hint, stepping down into the boat, and sitting beside John, Arthur stepping in after her and sitting at the front.

“Come on, Lenny...” Dutch muttered, getting in to the boat.

Her head whipping up, her heart stuttered slightly as she realised the young man wasn’t with them. Licking her lips, she stared at the gate, then, yes, there he was racing through them with a wide grin.

Releasing a breath of relief, she smiled as he caught her eye and winked. “All right, come on, everyone, what you waitin’ for, let’s go!”

Dutch chuckled as he sat down at the front, Lenny jumping into the boat and sitting beside Bill at the back. “Let’s get outta here, Thomas.”

“Gladly.” The older man nodded, using his staff to swiftly push them away from the jetty.

They fell silent as Thomas moved them away from the house, the darkness and fog on the water claiming them. Ada gripped her guns tightly to try and stop the shaking of her hands, hoping that would hide them, but she needn’t have bothered. Everyone in the boat was looking down at Bronte who was slowly coming to after Dutch had shaken him awake.

“Hey, big man,” Dutch said cheerfully as Bronte stammered slightly in his disorientation, his eyes flashing between them all. “We gonna ransom you or what?”

Bronte’s gazed darted to Dutch. Then, he pulled a face and shook his head as he pushed himself up a little. “You’re pathetic.”

“Oh, I am? ‘cause from where I’m sittin’ you’re the one deservin’ of pity, my friend.” Lenny chuckled quietly behind her as Dutch continued, “All your men... All your money...” Glancing at Dutch’s back, she could hear his smile. “... it weren’t no match for a bunch of bumpkins.”

Bronte snarled, seething. “You are nothing. You do nothing. You mean nothing. You stand for nothing. Me? I run a city.” He laughed. “And when the law catch up to you, you will die like nothing.” His voice was rising. “I am this country. You, you,” he looked between them all, “You are what people are running from.”

There was a pause.

Dutch’s voice was so quiet when he spoke. “I possess things that you will never understand.”

“You don’t even posses your own men,” Bronte retorted. He looked at them all again, lifting his chin as he declared, “A thousand dollars to the man who kills him and sets me free.”

None of them moved. Ada didn’t look away from Bronte to see their expressions; she was too busy revelling in his own falling as it dawned on him that he couldn’t buy his way out of this one.

Dutch leaned closer. “What are you gonna say now?”

Bronte was starting to panic now. “They are even bigger fools than you.”

“No doubt!”

“The law will find you!” Bronte was sweating. “Already the dogs are on the way!”

“Oh, yeah! Oh, you’re right!”

She finally looked away from Bronte to look at Dutch, her brow dipping slightly at his... what could only be described as a manic tone. Moving closer to Bronte, on his feet, Dutch reached for him.

“You are so right!” He gripped the back of Bronte’s head, holding him tight. “They are good at smellin’ filth, huh?”

Arthur had stood now, too, staring at Dutch, as had Lenny behind her, she felt. Arthur looked back at John, and Ada and... she saw a slight panic in his eyes. Dutch was still talking. In fact, he was shouting now.

“So filth has got to be disposed of!”

Then, he shoved Bronte’s head over the side and into the water. She froze, staring at him as John cursed beside her and Lenny inhaled sharply. Bronte was trying to scream but water was filling his mouth as he tried to thrash, gargling.

“Your friends, the Pinkertons, gonna come and rescue you now?!” Dutch was shouting. He suddenly lifted his head and Bronte gasped for breath, sheer terror on his face. “You repulsive little maggot!” Dutch yelled. He shoved his head back down under the water, and Bronte writhed and thrashed, trying to kick his legs out.

She felt Lenny’s hand on her shoulder, tight. Dutch was snarling and John stood suddenly and Bill did, too, the boat rocking slightly. Looking to Arthur to see what he was doing, she suddenly realised why they had. They had reached Thomas’s jetty, and Arthur grabbed the wooden post, keeping the boat against it, but he was still staring.

“Call them, now!” Dutch growled. “You call them!” Bronte’s head was still under the water, and his movements were slowing, weakening. They all just stared. Dutch was grunting and growling still, like an animal, until, a few moments later, Bronte stilled.

Hissing out a breath through his teeth, Dutch released him and stood, breathing heavily. Then, he shoved him over the side.

“Jesus...” John breathed, incredulous, looking from the water to Dutch. “What part of your philosophy books cover feedin’ a man to God damn alligators, Dutch?”

Dutch was watching the sinking body of the great Angelo Bronte. “The part that covers weakness.” He glanced at John, still trying to somewhat catch his breath. “That part.”

Bill had exited the boat, so had Thomas, and she felt Lenny pat her shoulder gently.

“Come on,” he murmured, looking slightly withdrawn. Getting to her feet, she stepped out of the boat, finding her hands were still shaking.

“I don’t know—” John started to say, when Dutch snapped, “Well, I do.” He pressed his lips together, then turned and stepped out of the boat, passing Arthur. “It ain’t nice, I know it, but it is us or him!” He lowered his voice slightly. “I figure it might as well be him.”

He turned and strode past her, following after Bill, Thomas and Lenny. She lifted her gaze from where she’d been staring at the wooden boards of the jetty, and looked at the two remaining men.

What the hell just happened.

From their expressions as they stepped out of the boat, they were thinking the same thing. They were silent, though, no one wanting to voice what was rolling around in their minds. After a moment, John shook his head and strode away. She could hear the men mounting their horses.

Biting at her lower lip, she looked up at Arthur. She felt like crying and she didn’t know why. Maybe because of how helpless he looked. She closed the small distance between them, shouldered the Repeater and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. His tired blue eyes met her own. Clearing his throat, he looked away.

“Come on. They’ll be waitin’.”

—

“Come up to my room,” Arthur murmured to her, his hand sliding back into hers after they’d dismounted.

They’d all ridden back in silence, in a slightly broken formation; Dutch at the front, Lenny and Bill a little behind, followed by John some way back, then her and Arthur.

The paths had been quiet, as was Shady Belle. Javier was taking a watch and Lenny had dismounted and said he’d take over from him. Ada looked at the young man, her heart aching slightly; he looked rattled. The others had dismounted and dispersed, heading in different directions.

She let him lead her into the house and up the stairs, following behind John who entered his family’s room. Once inside their own, Arthur shut the door and turned to her, releasing a breath.

“Well. That was somethin’.”

“Yes, it was.” There was still a shake to her hands. He had to have felt it. She went to fold her arms, before wincing at the pain of her wound, and shook her head slightly. “Arthur... Bronte could have been used as a bargaining tool. Dutch could have got the Pinkertons to ease up, maybe, give everyone a chance, some time, perhaps, to get away.”

Arthur nodded as he rubbed his forehead. “I know, I...” He didn’t know what to say. Inhaling a long breath, he began to remove his guns, placing them on the table beside the door as he watched her. “Before John and I came in, what were you talkin’ with Bronte about?”

Ada looked at him, then moved and picked a clean rag up from the table, dipped it in the bowl of water beside it and began to rub the dirt and sweat off her face, silent. He was deflecting. Once again.

“You were gonna kill him, weren’t you?”

Her silence lingered for a few moments.

“Yes.”

“Why.”

She lowered the rag, bracing her hands against the table as she shook her head, finally looking up at him. “I don’t know what came over me, he just... He was just...” Licking her lips, she straightened, her hands playing with the rag. “I asked him where Colm is so I can find Thomas.”

He paused, his gaze searching hers. “You think he might be out there, then?”

She shrugged quickly. “I don’t know. I just need to know, one way or another.” She opened her mouth, then closed it for a moment. “Sadie told me she’s gonna go after them, the O’Driscolls. She invited me to join her.”

Arthur was now silent. He dragged his teeth over his lower lip as he placed a hand on the table, the other on his hip. “Are you going to?” he asked quietly.

She nodded a little a few times, taking in a small breath. “I think I am.”

His gaze travelled her features before he nodded. “All right. You just let me know when you’re both goin’.” He moved then, his hands cupping her cheeks, his thumbs gently brushing over her skin as he held her gaze. “I don’t mind how long it takes. Just come back to me, darlin’.”

Her lips parted as her eyebrows rose. “You’d let me go?”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “You ain’t mine to keep, sweetheart. You’re a choice I made, and one I’d make over and over again.”

Her heart... ached like nothing she had ever felt before. Her voice was so quiet as she finally dared ask, “Why.”

His smile lingered as his thumbs stroked again. “You know why.”

She just gazed at him.

There was a light knock at the door.

“Arthur? Dutch and Hosea want to see you,” Charles murmured, and they heard him walk away.

Arthur’s smile widened a little more and he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes, a hand settling on his arm gently. It fell as he released her, stepping back.

“See you later. Get Susan to look at that arm.”

Then, he turned, opened the door and headed out, closing it behind himself.

She stared at it, her arms by her sides, her eyes filling with tears.

Something inside her started to heal.

—

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#arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female oc #rdr2 #rdr2 fic #my writing #flamehairedwritings

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wornoutmouse · 4 years

Text

Illumi x black reader ch 3

Reminder that this will all be posted on ao3 @ kachansmassivetiddies as well

It was the next day when Illumi came home and all night you had to force yourself to ignore the phone calls that came throughout the night. "Y/N I brought you breakfast." you could vaguely hear the monotone voice through your sleepy state. Sitting up you wipe your eyes and look around the room before finally taking in the food in front of you. You blink slowly as you take in the large egg in front of you. It was about 2 feet tall and larger than your own head with speckled spots all around it. "Illumi what the hell is this?" Illumi blinked at you, "A boiled egg, I heard it is popular among you people." he replies, taking out a spoon and whacking the top of the egg at light speed. All at once, the egg was made up of cracks before they all fell lightly around the egg itself.

You have to close your eyes and take deep breaths in order to keep in the laughter threatening to exit your lips.

You silently prayed that someone, anyone would come to get you from this nightmare.

“It is understandable Illumi, I’m sure she would be more comfortable with her husband present during the examination.” You tapped your foot faster, getting anxious at the words 'examination.'

#black y/n #blackreader #illumi zoldyck #illumi #illumi x reader #hunter x 2011 #hunter x hunter

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