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lainiespicewrites · 4 months

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Electric Summer Ch 3.

AHHH I'm loving this story so much!!! Here's chapter 3! I couldn't stop writing this lol

Summary: Sy and Lainie get ready for the campers to arrive. Everyone gets to know each other. It's a perfect summer day until...the weather takes a turn.

warnings: light cursing.

Reblogs and comments ALWAYS welcome! Please let me know what you think!!

Link for Ch2

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That night I barely slept. Buzzing with all of the energy from the day. The adrenaline and excitement and the butterflies. All of it ran through me like a high I didn’t want to come off of. But still I was skeptical. Was this the universe at play or was it just a coincidence? No, it couldn’t be. Not when all of my emotions seemed to be even stronger in his presence. And as much as I’d like to deny it, I still thought about him often. I had tried to let all of this go. But it’s like he had this grip on me. Everytime I tried to go out with someone new or go on a date. Or let someone touch me. It felt like I was betraying him. I knew that wasn’t true. I know Sy. He never really wanted me to wait forever, I don’t think either of us ever thought we’d see each other again. And if I had seen someone or been with someone he’d never hold that against me. But I just couldn’t do it.

At some point I must’ve drifted off to a restless sleep. My alarm woke me at 6:30AM. After our dip in the lake yesterday I definitely needed a shower. After a quick morning shower and getting ready for the day. In just some simple workout shorts and a t-shirt. It was supposed to get hot today. I decided to start working on decorations for the cabin before breakfast. I remember one year our counselor made signs with our names on them to hang over whatever bunk we’d chosen. I loved that idea.

I went through the roster becca had given me when I’d checked in yesterday and got to work carefully drawing each name and fun summer designs on each one. I wasn’t much of an artist but I was genuinely pretty impressed with myself.

Then I started to hang the garland letters sign I made for our door. Each year camp has a theme. And our counselors would come up with a name for our group or our cabin before we got there. It was always fun guessing and anticipating what cabin we would get. This year’s theme was classic movies. I smiled proudly to myself as I taped the string to the door after checking one last time to make sure it was straight. We were the “Pink Ladies” I may have a serious obsession with the film Grease.

I’d decided that if we were paired with one of the boys cabins we would be the pink ladies and I’d convince the boys counselor to be the T-birds. Luckily, Sy didn’t take much convincing. We talked about it yesterday before we started going over the icebreaker games. Although he did briefly try to change my mind and talked about the boys doing a “Top Gun” theme but he conceeded when I pouted. I made both our signs last night. After about an hour of trying to fall asleep I gave up and sat on the floor cutting the letters out of cardstock. I planned on taking the sign over to him after I figured out how to hang the fairy lights over the rafters. I climbed up onto the top bunk and started there making my way around the perimeter of the cabin. But there was still one long beam across the middle I started on the top bunk in one corner of the room but that only got me so far. I Pulled the little table in the center of the room over and climbed up standing on top of it. It was just tall enough for me to be able to toss the lights around and catch it on the other side of the beam. Just as I’d moved the table and climbed back up to start another section I heard the screen door open.

“What are you doin?” He asked an edge of panic in his voice. Sy was leaning against the door frame watching me.

“Hanging lights.” I shrugged, turning back to the task at hand.

“You’re gonna get hurt,” He said. Walking over to the table staring up at me to meet my eyes. I looked down shaking my head.

“I am not! I’m almost done once I finish this part I’m gonna climb onto the other bunk.” I explained wrapping the lights around one more time before starting to get down. I felt Logan’s hands on my waist steadying me and helping me off the table. “Thanks” I blushed turning away from him quickly it was to early for this.

“Anytime darlin, you want some help?” He asked. I shook my head as I climbed the ladder to the top bunk diagonal from mine.

“Nope this is the last part!” I said as I finished wrapping the lights around the beam. “Did you need something?” I asked. Looking down at him.

“Yeah you not to give me a heart attack!” He joked. I chuckled.

“I was fine Logan!” I argued. He shook his head.

“I was actually coming to see if you were ready to head over to breakfast?” He asked I looked down at my watch and looked back up.

“Is it 8:30 already?” I asked. He nodded.

“Sure is!” He smiled. I hopped down from the bunk laughing when his eyes went wide again.

“Jesus woman,” He laughed. “Would you stop trying to get hurt!” He chided.

“Oh so you can go of overseas and fight in a war, but I can’t do a little home decor without you threatening to put me in a bubble?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t mean you aren’t capable of doing it yourself darlin, it’s just if I remember right you tend to be accident prone.” He chuckled.

“That was 7 years ago! I was 17, I was a little clumsy. That’s all.” I defended.

“Sure,” He smiled. “You ready to go eat?” He asked. I nodded.

“Just let me grab some shoes!” I slipped on a pair of vans and we headed out the door.

I was so glad we took the time to sit down and enjoy breakfast because the rest of our morning and early afternoon went by so fast.

We had another staff meeting about greeting campers. And meeting parents. Dealing with home sickness. A crash course on first aid. The first day’s schedule. Luckily Sy and I were with the older kids. High school age. So our day’s weren’t quite as structured. But somehow that made me more nervous. What if they just brushed us off and none of our effort was even worth it.

I didn’t have time to think about it. At 1 pm right after lunch and after we finished. Some staff bonding games of our own it was time for check in. It was kind of a long process if I remember so I still had maybe 20 minutes before any of my campers would be there but I was still so nervous. I went and sat out on the picnic table writing down the schedule and some of the games Logan and I had talked about trying one last time to get all my thoughts organized. At one point when I looked up I saw him across the lawn standing on the porch of his cabin finally taping the sign I’d made to his door.

Better late than never I suppose. I giggled to myself. To be fair it’s a miracle the boys cabins ever participated in those sorts of things anyway. They never were ones to decorate. And their cabins always had a certain…smell to them. I shook my head and looked up again just in time to catch his eye across the lawn. I smiled sending him a little wave. I saw him grin and he waived back. Just as I thought about walking over to chat, a young girl and what i’m guessing is her mom stopped in front of the cabin.

“Cabin E?” The mom asked smiling. I nodded. Standing up to greet them.

“That’s me!” I smiled. “Welcome to camp!”

“Thank you!” She said. “This is Emma,” she gestured to her daughter.

“I can introduce myself mom,” she chided her mother. “I’ve been doing this for 4 years now.” Ah so she was a seasoned camper. She should be fun.

“It’s nice to meet you Emma, I’m Lainie, do you need help bringing anything inside? I asked gesutring to her bags.

“Oh I can help her!” Her mom jumped in. Emma rolled her eyes.

“Mom I love you, but you’re hovering. I got it from here.” She assured her. The womans face fell but she nodded.

“Alright I get it, it’s time for me to go.” she said. I gave her a sympathetic look.

“Hey Emma no one else is here yet why don’t you go choose your bunk and get settled in, I always liked to get here early too so I could get the bed I wanted.” I told her.

The girls eyes lit up and she nodded. She quickly hugged her mom and grabbed her bags walking toward the door.

“It’s just two weeks mom! I love you!” she said before she walked inside. Her mother smiled sadly and looked back to me.

“She’s so independent, I don’t know when that happened. She grew so fast. I’ll only get to do this with her one more year.” Her mother explained.

“She’s just excited, I remember these days. I was a camper myself not to long ago. But trust me, about half way through the first week. I would start to get a little home sick. We alway miss our mommas.” I told her.

“Thank you,” She smiled. “Sounds like she’s in good hands with you Lainie. I’d better go check on my son My husband is dropping off her twin brother Ethan. And they can both be a handful.” I laughed.

“I know the type,” I chuckled. She smiled before heading off in the direction of Sy’s cabin. When I looked over there was a boy, and an older man standing outside talking with him. Emma’s mother joined them. The boy had blonde hair just like the girls. Must be her brother I thought. I didn’t have much time to watch as two more campers and their family’s arrived. One whos name was Nicole she was also a camp alumn been coming just as long as Emma. It didn’t look like they knew each other very well though. Must not have been in the same cabin before. Nicole was a spitfire. Right out the gate. She walked right in claiming her bunk signing her name on the wall next to it, another camp tradition. She dismissed her parents right away as well. They stopped and talked for a bit but they’d done this before they didn’t have many concerns. The other girl was much more timid and shy. She reminded me of myself my first year of camp. She was about a year or 2 younger than the other girls. Her name was Ryleigh. She was quiet when she introduced herself. Her mother talked to me about concerns of her being social and making friends. She was worried about her. I understood that. But I also understood the way that this place had a tendency to open people up and make them feel safe. What I told her was. I’d keep an eye on her. She’s gonna have a fun summer. I promised that. Another hour had gone by and all of my campers had arrived. I had 8 girls in my Cabin. I welcomed them all and gave them each their sign to put up by their bunks.

“These are so cool!” Nicole said excitedly quickly climbing up to her bunk and taping it up immediately.

“I like these!” Emma said, “Is it okay if we add more drawings or sketches to them?” She asked. I nodded

“Absolutely they’re yours to do whatever you want with!” I smiled. “But if everyone is all settled in I think the boys are ready to meet up with us. Are you ready to meet everyone?” They were pretty excited to get things kicked off by this point most of the girls had been to camp at least once. They were ready to get the summer started.

Sy and I had decided that we would meet up on the lawn and just sit out on the grass as a group to start things off. When we walked over Nicole immediately ran over hugging one of the boys, must be old friends. They immediately sat next to each other in the grass as Sy and I told everyone to form a circle.

“Alright,” Sy spoke loudly getting everyones attention. “First we’d like to introduce ourselves. The boys have met me but ladies, I’m Logan, a lot of people call me Sy. I’ll answer to either one.” He smiled. I looked over and a couple of the girls were whispering to each other. I knew that face. I’d been the one making it years ago. Probably even still now. They thought he was cute. It’s so innocent those camp counselor crushes. I’d been there too. Once when I was 13 we had this counselor his name was Tanner. He was really nice and he played guitar and he sang. I was a sucker guys that were into music. I just smiled to myself, and realised it was my turn to talk.

“We’re so excited to have you all here, I’m excited to meet all of your boys as well Sy! I’m Alayna but for most of my life and especially around here, everyone has always called me Lainie. Sy and I are so happy to be back here, we were campers ourselves but it’s been 7 years since we’ve been to camp.” I said. I stifled a laughed watching a few of them try to do the math in their head to calculate how old we were.

“My family and I have been coming to camp since my dad was a kid,” Sy added. “I’m sure there are things that have changed since we’ve been here but there are some traditions that never wil!” He smiled. “You guys ready to kick off this summer?” They all cheered excitedly.

“Okay,” I spoke. “Some people love this and some people don’t but there are 16 of you, there’s no faster way for us to learn all of your names and you who you are than some icebreakers.” a few of them groaned. “I know, I know we’re gonna make this as painless as possible, we were campers too remember? We went back and tried to find the games we had the most fun doing.

“Everyone know how to play 2 truths and a lie?” Logan asked. Most of them nodded but we still explained the rules as a refresher. “But after we all guess.” He added. “We want you to talk a little bit more about one of your truths to us. Or explain why you chose that lie.” That seemed to really pique their interest. Beckett one of the boys in Logans cabin started the game.

“Alright,” he started. “I’m a lifeguard, One time when my friends and I were on a college campus tour we played a pick up game of football with some of the college players. Or as a senior prank we stole our math teachers car.” Everyone started laughing. This kid had charisma. I could already see some of the girls eyes getting all dreamy. He was funny too. Sy was going to enjoy having him as a camper.

“Did you still graduate?” Emma laughed. “No way you did that and didn’t get caught!” she said.

“I graduated,” He nodded smirking proudly.

“What position did you play?” Sy asked, talking about football.

“In school I was wide receiver.” He answered. A few of the others went around asking questions. And then we all made our guesses. We all for sure thought he was lying about the car.

“We got to sit in the stadium and watch them practice.” he said about the football. “But we didn’t get to play. I’d love to play in college though!” He added. The boys started laughing and the some of the girls shook their heads.

“No freaking way,” Nicole said “How’d you pull that off, How’d you steal the car?” He smiled proudly, this guy was going to be our camp clown for sure.

“One of my buddies TA’d for him and he would ask him to get stuff for him out of his car sometimes. So we came up with the idea that when he asked we would meet down there and move it to the student parking lot. He was a super chill guy. He thought it was funny! After he found his car anyway!” We all laughed. The game continued on. They all had a lot of fun with it. Some of them coming up with really strategic lies. Or just basic stuff they wanted us to know about them. It turned out great. It was Ryleigh’s turn last. I could see she was nervous she’d been avoiding going the whole time.

“Uh, I’m Ryleigh,” She spoke softly. “I’m in band, uh I-I really like to read, and one time in middle school I won a rollerskating contest at our roller rink,” She was playing with her fingers looking at the ground.

“What’s your favoirte book?” I asked her. She looked up for a second giving me a nervous smile.

“Uhm Thousand Words by Jennefer Brown,” She said. I smiled

“I’ve read that Its really good!” one of the girls said. I watched her face light up a little bit.

“What instrument do you play?” Sy asked.

“I play guitar.” She said. He nodded giving her a soft smile. One of the boys asked about the roller skating thing and a few other questions and we all guessed.

“I don’t think you roller skate,” Ethan, Emma’s twin brother said.

“I do!,” she smiled surprised she had fooled most of us. “I’m actually not in band. I do play guitar though! My dad taught me.” she said.

“That’s so cool!” Beckett said. “Did you bring your guitar with you? You could totally play at campfire!” He said. She blushed and nodded slightly.

“I did.” she said.

“Sweet!” He smiled at her.

Our afternoon was going really well. We talked to the kids about what things they wanted to make sure we did as a group this summer. What traditions were important to them. The boys were so excited to help Logan start planning for the prank war. At somepoint we were going to play flashlight hide and seek. That was always fun. We always set that up right after it started to get dark. They wanted to do a camp fire breakfast. We made them promise they were going to get up early to help us with it. But they were mainly just excited to hang out with their friends and do whatever we had planned. They were such a great bunch of kids. It always seemed like no matter the generation. We always reverted back to a state of innocence when we were at camp. Leaving technology behind and just being present.

It was turning out to be a perfect first day. We had the kids make their name tags and were playing a few more group games before dinner. But just as we were finishing up our last game it started to sprinkle. We gathered everyone up to head over to the dining hall and the sky let loose. It started to rain steadily. We all ran over from the Cabin’s making it inside just before it started to down pour.

“Well,” Logan said from behind me making me jump, He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare ya darlin, but I bet they cancel the welcome campfire tonight, it’ll be way to wet now.” He said. I nodded.

“That sucks. Some of the girls were looking forward to it. They had friends in other cabins they wanted to see. I had no idea it was supposed to rain.�� I said.

“Yeah, I was checking the weather on my way in yesterday. Could Possibly turn into a pretty rough thunderstorm.” He added.

“Oh,” I said softly, biting my lip. I hated storms. Especially at camp. The cabins always felt so small and so thin. Like they wouldn’t hold. It was the one time I didn’t feel safe. But I played it off. “Guess we’ll be inside the rest of the evening then!”

During dinner they did infact announce that they were canceling the big welcome camp fire. It was for all the age groups at camp to welcome everyone all at once. And then each night each of the age groups had their own campfire. But we’d be doing neither of those things tonight. So much for the perfect first day. After dinner we decided to run over to the rec room. There was a pool table, and darts. Foosball, card games, board games, all of the inside entertainment we would could ever hope for. A few of the other cabin groups decided to head there too. So the campers had a lot of fun. Most of them reunited with old camp friends and made some new ones. Some of them sat down to play some pretty intense card games or board games. Some just chose to sit and talk. I was feeling really good about our first day. But then I saw Ryleigh sitting by herself. My heart broke for her. I understood how having anxiety could make these situations so difficult. I was just about to go talk with her when Sy approached.

“She’s a real sweet girl,” He said.

“You noticed too, huh?” I asked. He nodded.

“Yeah, hate to mention it but, kinda reminds me of you, in our days here.” He said.

“I was just thinking the same thing. I was gonna go talk to her, see if there’s anything I can do to help.” I sighed.

“Not yet, give it a minute.” He spoke. I raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” I questioned.

“Just trust me, give it a minute.” He smirked crossing his arms. I stared at him confused for a moment. What did he know that I didn’t. But it very quickly made sense.

“No you guys go ahead and start the next round I’ll be back,” I heard one of the boys say from the table where the campers had a big Uno game going. It was Beckett I watched as he stood from the table and nervously ran his hand through his messy hair. But then his demenor switched as he put on a charming smile and a confident mask. He walked over to where Ryleigh was sitting on a beanbag in the corner doodling on a piece of paper. He plopped down next to her.

“Whatcha doin?” He asked her. She jumped startled not expecting anyone to be there.

“Just, sketching…” she answered.

“You draw?” He asked. She shook her head.

“Not really but…” I stopped listening. Letting them have their own conversation. I wouldn’t want someone to eavesdrop on a moment like this if I were her.

“How did you…?” I trailed off. Sy chuckled. His shoulders shaking with laughter.

“He noticed her a while ago. I’ve been watching him try to work up the nerve to go over there for the last 10 minutes.” he laughed. I smiled.

“Wait, so you think he likes her?” I asked.

“Oh, he definitely likes her. If the military taught me one thing. It’s how to be observant. He’s had his eye on her since we all met up this afternoon.” he smirked.

“That’s so cute,” I smiled

“I was the same way with you!” He admitted. I almost choked on air.

“I never noticed that,” I said. He shook his head smiling.

“Yeah, cause you were so quiet and stuck in your own head to realize what was going on. You didn’t even realized you liked me back until the second year we were at camp together.” He laughed.

“You did NOT like me first!” I argued.

“Did too, Just because you didn’t notice doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.” He smirked. I opened my mouth to argue but there was a loud crack of thunder making me jump. I swallowed hard and looked down at the floor trying to hide the panic in my eyes.

“Still don’t like storms huh?” He questioned. I bit my lip looking up at him and shook my head.

“Hate them,” I said. Another roll of thunder and I felt myself tense. Sy put his hands on my shoulders making me look up at him.

“It’s arlight we’re safe inside.” he assured me. I nodded. He and I walked over and sat with a few of the other counselors talking for a bit and keeping an eye on our campers. About 20 minutes later the weather alert went off on the radio in the rec room. We were under a severe thunderstorm warning. We could hear the rain pounding against the roof. My heart pounded in my chest. And the thunder was getting closer. Louder. 5 minutes later. The power went out.

Sy immediately jumped up to take control of the room.

“Everybody stay calm,” He spoke softly. I heard a zipper and some rustling. He’d pulled out a large flashlight from his bag. One of the counselors walkie talkies went off. Sy lifted his to his ear to listen.

“Okay guys, just relax we’re gonna stay here until the storm lets up. Hopefully the power comes back on. Until then weve got some lantern flashlights to set up around the room. Just keep hanging out we’re alright.” He assured them. Sy and one of the other boys counselrs went into a supply closet finding the LED lantern lights they had 5 of them and set them out throughout the room illuminating it just enough for the kids to see and still be able to play cards or board games or talk. Some of the girls were a little nervous so I put on my best brave face to go over and talk to them.

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” Emma asked. I nodded.

“We’re shielded from the storm and there aren’t many windows in here. We’re perfectly safe.”

“I hate this.” another girl said.

“I know, it’s not fun but it’ll,” another loud crack of thunder and I jumped. My breathing shaky, “It’ll.. It will uhm…” I started but I couldn’t get the sentence out the panic starting to take over.

The girls both had nervous looks on their face. I was worrying them. Shit. I suck at this.

“It’ll pass soon and we’ll head back to the cabins for the night.” I heard Sy say behind me. His hand softly pressed to my lower back. “Don’t worry we’ll get out of here and right back to all the fun stuff tomorrow.” he gave them a reassuring smile.

They nodded. And I felt Logan gently leading me away. There was a small hallway that was out of the way and he pulled me to the side. “You alright?” He asked. I shook my head starting to feel myself shaking.

“I-I can’t I can’t do this. I, how am I supposed to help them when I’m too scared myself and, I just I hate this.I feel like I can’t breathe!” I sniffed. He pulled me into him wrapping his arms around me gently shushing me.

“Shhh it’s alright. You’re gonna be okay.” He said, holding me to him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He soothed.

“I’m sorry.” I breathed.

“Don’t, it’s alright.” he whispered. “Just keep breathing for me,” He talked me through it. And when I calmed down we walked back out sitting on one of the couches again. I stayed quiet a moment watching the room.

“Sy,” I spoke finally. Just as I went to thank him his radio was going off again. We were cleared to head back to the cabins. The heavy part of the storm had passed but it was still raining. We ran back and Sy and I parted on the lawn getting our campers settled. He got the boys back to his cabin and they settled in. He made sure they all made it back

“Alright boys I’ll be right back I’m gonna go check on the girls make sure they all made it!” he told them. He ran over across the lawn and knocked on our door. I answered quickly and let out a deep breath when I saw it was him.

“You girls alright?” he asked.

“Yeah!” some of them answered. I smiled

“We’re okay.” I said softly. He smiled and nodded for me to join him out on the porch. I turned back to the girls “I’ll be right back ladies, go ahead and get ready for bed, lights out is in 30 minutes!” I told them. I closed the door behind me. And let the sceen door slam shut.

“Are you okay?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“Yeah, I am,...Thank you for helping me back there,” I said.

“This isn’t our first storm together honey,” He smiled. “I’ll always be there to help ya.” I blushed.

“You’ve always been such a gentleman. You’re mama raised you right.” I smiled.

“Nah, just with you, comes naturally,” He said. I felt my cheeks heat up even more and I looked away trying to compose myself.

“So, was that…all?” I asked. He stepped closer to me until I was leaning against the picnic table.

“No,” He smiled. “There’s one other thing.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek his eyes staring down into mine. I couldn’t take it anymore. We’d drawn this out for too long. 7 years too long. I wrapped one arm around his neck the other hand gently resting on the back of his head pulling him down to me. He responded immediately pressing his lips to mine. His other hand found my waist pulling me close holding me against him. All of the air left my lungs as I kissed him back with everything I had. I whimpered softly when he pulled away.

“Shit, “ He smiled breathless. “Only took me 7 years but I uh..” He breathed “just wanted to kiss you goodnight.” I nodded still cathing my breath smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.

“One more for good measure?” I asked blushing. He smirked. And pulled me in again kissing me softer this time. It was slow and sensual. He leaned his forehead against mine when he pulled away.

“A man could get addicted to that,” he said. I smiled slowly trailing my hand from his should and down his chest.

“I wouldn’t mind.” I laughed. He chuckled and pecked my lips one more time.

“Goodnight Darlin’”

“Goodnight, Sy” I watched him run through the rain back to his cabin and I stood their for a moment regaining my composure before I went back inside. Just as I was about to open the door. I heard the one of the girls say

“No, I’m serious you guys I think they’re married!” it sounded like Nicole

“Nikki, Neither one of them is wearing a ring!” Emma said.

“Okay well dating at least, They’re like super in love! You should’ve seen them in the rec room! I had to pee and they were in the hall by the bathrooms. He was like holding her it was so cute!”

“Aww that’s so sweet, she was definitely scared! I felt so bad!” One of the other girls, Chloe added.

“I know, OH MY GOD! Do you think they’ll let us call them Mom and Dad? Remember last year when we had Carrie and Andrew and they were married? That was so cute they literally treated us like their kids!” nicole squealed.

“I hope so!” Emma said “I really like them! They’re both so nice, and I really hope they’re dating if they’re not they need to be, because they’d be so cute together!” I chuckled to myself before opening the door and they’re attention turned to me but they went quiet.

“Okay girls gossip time is over! Time for lights out!” I said. They groaned.

“Okay but wait, are you and Logan Married?” Nicole asked.

“Nicole do you see a ring? What did I just say? But you two are dating right?!” Emma added. I chuckled to myself and shook my head.

“Goodnight girls.”

“Ugh fine be like that girl,” Nicole pouted.

“Goodnight Lainie!” Emma called.

“Goodnight,” Ryleigh said softly. The rest of the girls settled in and I turned out the lights and climbed into my bunk. I bit my lip and smiled to myself holding in an excited. Squeal. Maybe this was still the perfect first day after all.

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undercover-grisha · 22 days

Text

Six Months - Short Fic

Kaz Brekker woke up to his wife hitting him with a pillow. He blinked up at the dark ceiling. Inej sleepily tossed the pillow over him and in the direction of the noise that had obviously woken her up.

Kaz sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. Inej woke before him? Ghezen, he was getting rusty.

The noise hadn’t stopped. Kaz felt a soft, grumbling urge to throttle something growing in his stomach.

Instead he grabbed his cane— the wooden one that Inej insisted he used in the house so as to not give Jordan the chance to hurt himself on the sharp metal crow’s beak of his regular cane.

(Kaz understood the thought process behind the decision. It still hadn’t stopped him from keeping his cane with him until the very last moment possible. When Jordan reached and grabbed that stupid duck, Kaz had fought violently to keep his face from the narrow-eyed scowl he’d so wanted to do.)

So Kaz grabbed his cane and headed off down the hall. He clumsily buttoned the top of his shirt back together after it had apparently come undone during the night. He was stalling. Just a little, but still.

Kaz let out a breath, slightly strangled in nature, and raised his eyes to the slotted wooden rafters in the hallway. Six months. Just six short months since Jordan Harajj Ghafa had come screaming into the world, pudgy little brown face all scrunched up and furious that someone has disturbed him.

Kaz had never felt as full of life as he had in that moment.

Which was good, because it gave him plenty of energy to work off during the following weeks when the kid would not shut the hell up.

He’d eventually calmed down, of course, as all babies did, but there were still these occasional outbursts.

Kaz slowly opened the door to the nursery and stepped inside. He was sure the kid was just hungry, which, of course he was screaming about it, he couldn’t very well feed himself. Didn’t make waking up in the middle of the night any less annoying.

Kaz’s cane clicked on the wood floors as he shuffled over to the bassinet. Jordan was sitting up in his crib, gripping the bars like he’d been sentenced to Hellgate under false charges. He quieted as his father approached, and let go of the bars, as if he knew he was in trouble. Kaz leaned the tips of his elbows on the edge of the crib and clasped his hands together, leaning all his weight on his better leg and popping his bad leg to let it stretch.

Jordan stuck his hand in his mouth.

“You are a terror.” Kaz murmured. Jordan hummed around his fist, his eyes still watery. Kaz pulled his shirt sleeve up his hand and gently dabbed at the wet skin. He’d gotten better about touch in the past few years, obviously good enough to have a son, but he still didn’t like to risk his ability to handle water.

“Most people try to sleep through the night. You seem to be trying your damndest to sleep around it.”

The Bastard of the Barrel scooped his son up and headed out of the nursery and into the kitchen. He set Jordan on his stomach on carpet and opened the cabinet to find a pot. Kaz set the pot on the stove and turned to grab the milk out of the icebox. He paused momentarily as Jordan pulled himself up with a chair on wobbly legs out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh, good job.” He murmured, half paying attention.

Wait.

Kaz froze.

No no no no no. No. This could not be happening now, not when Inej was asleep. Not again.

“Stop.” He tried.

Jordan did not stop. He bounced his legs.

“Jordan Ghafa, stop it now.”

Jordan looked up at his name. He let go of the chair.

Kaz strode over to the boy and flexed his hands slightly, unsure of what to do. Jordan babbled at him, giggling and bouncing on his legs.

Kaz picked him up. And set him down on his stomach, and put a toy in his hands.

Nothing happened. Nothing at all. There was no standing. If Jordan could stand tomorrow in front of his mother, well, Kaz would celebrate that then.

Kaz hesitated. He gently pat Jordan’s head and the boy looked up at him with those big, molten eyes.

“Very good.” He said, going for praise and wincing at how much it sounded like he was training a dog.

Dirtyhands turned to finish heating up the milk for his son.

#Y’all rly liked my last Kaz and Baby Jordan post so…#six of crows #soc #chicks of crows #kaz brekker #kanej kid #kanej #shadow and bone

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lolitakirstein · 3 months

Text

Hey Neighbor PT 10

WC:1.3k~

AO3 page

Toji

“So what exactly are you wanting me to do, sir?” the lanky male asks Toji. The computer opened and reflected in his oversized glasses.

“I am curious myself,” Shiu sits with his ankle over his knee, staring at Toji from across the kitchen table. “Your text from last night was quite unexpected”

Toji is seated with his forearms braced on the table, a slight frown on his face and a tiredness in his eyes. Which was to be expected since he hadn’t slept a wink the previous night. His mind spun from thoughts of you and this mysterious guy that had interrupted his owning up everything to you. He battled back and forth with his mind–should he really try to find out who this was or should he allow you to live your life and make your own choices? As the sun peaked over the horizon, he came to the middle ground, sorta. He’d find out who this guy was, but that was it! No background checks, no sending out people to his house, and definitely not wiping him off the planet and out of your life. Just a normal hacking of a phone.

“I need to see messages on y/n phone.” Toji answers.

Shiu’s eyes widen, taken back for a moment. Then, his face turns to one of joy. “Ah, already? The agreement must’ve been–”

“This isn’t about the agreement,” Toji interrupts, brusquely. He turns towards the hacker. “Just tell me you can do it.”

The hacker wrings his hands over his keyboard, clearly nervous in the presence of the infamous Toji Fushiguro. “Uhm, I can put spyware on it? Do you have the phone?”

“No, do it remotely. She uses an Apple phone and computer. I’m sure she has messages coming through her computer on the messaging app.” He demands.

“If we are in the range of her wifi, I can crack through her password, and then the software can gather all her credentials–logins and passwords. Then, we just enter those into the messaging app.” The hacker spoke quickly, clearly excited to show off his abilities.

“Do it,” he orders.

A day off work was never really a day off. Being so busy with work and honestly being lazy, the house chores had fallen behind. Though you have been living here for a few months now, the house still screams “Grandmother’s house.” You just hadn’t had the heart or the mental strength to get rid of things. Grief made you hang on to it as much as possible Until the smell of her house was replaced with your soft vanilla and lavender smell. You started in the bedroom, packing away old clothes to take to donation centers and replacing the bed sheets with ones that were more you—A soft purple comforter and an overabundance of pillows.

After folding the new bath towels and placing them in the upstairs hallway closet, you look up at the ceiling and the hatch to the attic ladder. You had been dreading going up there for a few reasons. Spiders, dust, dirt, mold, and the wild idea that someone might be up there living for all you knew. Another reason was what you DID know was up there. Pictures, memories of people you would never see again, and memories of moments you’ll never experience. But, today was the day. It had to be done.

Straightening your shoulder, you pull the string and allow the ladder to unfold to the floor. Surprisingly, no dead bodies tumbled down and no clouds of dust poured. You climbed the stairs, holding your phone as a flashlight. Once at the top, you notice it’s not the crypt you expected. It could be a spare room, the floors barely showed signs of neglect, neat stacks of books in the corner, and enough room to stand. Another string hung from the rafters to a light that still worked.

Getting to work, you pull dusty boxes from the corners, carry them to the floor below, gather the books to sort through and sweep the floor. Once satisfied with your cleaning, you gather your supplies and turn off the light. You switch all the supplies to one hand as you shuffle to the ladder.

The canister of furniture polish slips from your arm and rolls to the side of the attic. You chase after it, using your phone light again in the dark. The light bounced off the can and another glint of metal on the wall you hadn’t noticed.

Upon further inspection, you see a small gap in the wall, metal peaking out behind it. Using your phone light, a two-foot by two-foot section of the wall seems to be cut into the wall. YOu dig your finger into the exposed groove and gift it a sideways push. After getting stuck a few times, the panel recedes into the wall at the right, and the content behind it is revealed.

A silver safe about the size of a mini fridge sits behind the wall, a thin layer of dust coating it. A keypad blinks in the upper corner. You take a chance and attempt to pull the handle, hoping it would open—another part of you hoped it wouldn’t. Scared to see what was in it.

After 3 more tugs of the handle, you give up. It clearly needs a passcode. You try a few—1234, 11111, 2222 —-- before again giving up in case it had a system that locked it completely for an undetermined amount of time.

Finally, you climb back down the ladder, Confused, which seems to be your everyday emotion these days. You might as well have a giant question mark above your head

What the fuck is going on?

Toji

“I was able to hack into her cloud and find her contacts. I reverse-searched the number of the last message she received. It comes back to a Connor J. Falco but it appears he’s gone by a multitude of aliases. Here are some of the text messages I was able to—”

“I’m not going to read her messages, just give me what info you have on the guy,” Toji interrupts, slightly closing the laptop that the hacker had rotated around for him to see.

“Isn’t your concern that she is…involved with this man? Romantically?” Shiu chimes in from the living room where he is sitting on the floor with Megumi, playing with action figures. “ I believe I’d want to know what they were discussing, hmmm?”

“That’s—her business,” Toji replies, knowing how ridiculous it sounds.

“Doesn’t hacking into her phone inadvertently—”

“Just give me info on the guy,” Toji says to the hacker. He knows it doesn’t make sense. He tries to ease the guilt of spying by telling himself it’s only half spying. And it’s not spying on you, you were just the obstacle to get to the real prey. He wouldn’t read any of your messages or look through your photos and social media. That’s where he drew the line—the very thin one.

“Connor J Falco is an independent contractor, though I can’t find anything about what exactly he is contracted to do. Small online presence, just moved to town from overseas. No criminal records, no past traffic infractions.”

“See? An upstanding citizen.” Shiu laughs. “Completely harmless.”

“However,” the hacker clears his throat. “That’s just for Connor.”

“What do you mean?” Shiu stands behind the laptop.

“His other alias,” Toji answers. He knew this was what would happen. Whatever persona this guy was showing y/n was no doubt clean. It was his other personas that worried him.

“Correct. And Dmitri Sokolov?” The hacker nods and turns the laptop around for Toji to see. “He has quite a disturbing criminal history.”

Toji slides the laptop closer, clicking through the pages of court records and mugshots both international and domestic. From white-collar to violent crimes. His heart hammers in his chest. These weren’t petty crimes, this guy has experience.

“Shit.”

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bitacrytic · 3 months

Text

The Day Yohan Decided

The New Devil

It was mildly horrifying and a little invigorating to listen to Gaon’s acceptance speech.

Standing in the rafters, looking down at the brightly lit hall where cameras flashed and reporters stood in rapt attention, Yohan watched Gaon’s movements like a hawk, taking in the familiar swagger that Yohan had mastered years ago. It was eerie how much Gaon emulated him, his movements, his mannerisms, his words. It was as if Yohan was watching a live show of himself but with Gaon’s face.

And it broke his heart.

Because this wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't what he’d left for.

Gaon was supposed to be better. Gaon had already been better. Yohan had muddied his reputation for this, but it hadn’t changed anything. Not the way Yohan had imagined it to change.

Handsome and suave with his movements, Gaon descended from the stage, having promised the people power. He’d been so good with it, so clear and concise. In a matter of months, Gaon had managed to perfect a stride that had taken Yohan twelve years to learn.

If he wasn’t so envious and disappointed, Yohan would have been able to admit how turned on he was, watching the confident set of Gaon’s shoulders and the delicate way with which he handled himself and his dance partners.

Maybe, in another life, Yohan could have been one of those partners.

Maybe he could have celebrated such a big win for Gaon’s professional trajectory.

Yohan was proud of him. But he was also scared for him. Shiny, fluttering butterflies like Gaon were beacons of trouble. Whatever safety he’d had when he had Yohan’s shadow to hide in was gone. He was out in the open, flaunting his success and power for admirers to see, for enemies to goad.

“He’s good at this,” Ko said, leaning on the railing and staring down at him.

“He’s not supposed to be good at this. He’s supposed to be honest,” Yohan hissed as he made his way to the stairs with Ko running to keep up.

“You saw his plan. You know what he’s doing.”

“He’s doing the same thing I did.”

“Yeah, and you survived.”

“In case you didn’t know, Lawyer Ko,” Yohan said, “Lightning never strikes twice.”

“It’s a good thing the plan isn’t entirely like yours then, isn’t it?”

Yohan stopped moving and turned to his friend with a frown on his face. “Do you support it?”

Ko’s jaw hardened as he nodded. “I do.”

“You realize what he has to do to make it work.”

“I do,” Ko repeated.

“He’s going to kill someone. That will destroy him.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, Sir,” Ko said. “He was going to kill someone last year if you didn’t stop him.”

“Yes, exactly. I didn’t stop him then for him to turn around and commit mass murder.”

“You did it,” Ko said. “Why can’t he?’

Yohan punched Ko before he knew what he was doing. As Ko stumbled back, Yohan regretted it but he held his ground.

“How fucking dare you?” he asked, feeling like everyone could hear them even though the guests were far away.

Ko leaned against the wall as he spat blood on the ground. From where they were Yohan could still hear the music, could still see Gaon moving on the dance floor, from one woman to another with a charming smile on his face.

A far cry from the man who’d nearly cried when a crowd of cougars cornered him.

“When are you going to stop pretending that that boy is some righteous angel, Sir?”

“Watch your tongue,” Yohan warned.

“K was right. Even before he touched you, you were already seduced beyond reason.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“He came into your home with ulterior motives.”

“I’m warning you.”

“He bugged your office and put your niece in danger.”

“Lawyer Ko!” Yohan hissed as he grabbed him by the cuff and shoved him against the unpainted wall.

“He’s always been like this,” Ko said, looking Yohan right in the eye. “You’ve just been too enthralled by your brother’s face to see it.”

Yohan raised his hand to punch Ko, but Ko just closed his eyes, making no other move to defend himself. Not that he ever would. Ko wasn’t violent and even if he was, he would never stand against Yohan. Not for anything, certainly not for something so heavy as this.

Yohan shook his head, as he said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gaon hadn’t been like this. He’d been so bad at subterfuge that Yohan clocked his game from the moment they met.

At least, he’d thought he did. But what if he hadn’t? What if this was all part of the plan? What if every action had been…

“Sunah hired him for a reason,” Ko said. “She’s clinging to him now for the very same reason.”

“All the more reason for us not to support a plan that she has a hand in.”

Shoving Ko away, Yohan continued down the stairs, unable to even look at his friend for another moment.

“Thinking like that will put him in danger, Sir,” Ko called after Yohan, making no move to follow him. “You’ll get in his way and ruin everything.”

The fuck he was. Yohan knew what he was doing. Gaon wasn’t some weak point anyone could use. Sunah had tried before and she’d failed. Yohan wasn’t some enthralled fool. He was seeing just as clearly as he’d always seen. And plan or not, he was going to make sure that Gaon didn’t make the same mistakes that he had.

#the devil judge #season 2

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madsworld15 · 3 months

Text

I'm trying out a new fic idea for Brian and Justin. What if their first meeting was entirely different? What if Justin was actually on the asexual spectrum and did not want to jump Brian's bones immediately?

Let me know what you guys THINK!

Justin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As nervous as he was to be here, he needed this job. Justin was eight weeks into his college career only to find that his father hadn’t paid his tuition like he said he would. He’d, of course, gone to Mr. Taylor’s place of work only to be told, to his face, that as long as he chose to live his disgusting lifestyle, his father wouldn’t be supporting his education.

Which brought Justin here, standing on the sidewalk corner across the street from the diner. In a few minutes, he had a job interview with a woman named Debbie, and his nerves were shot.

Despite being gay, Justin hadn’t ever entered any queer exclusive spaces or ventured down to Liberty Avenue.

Was he really ready to work here every day? He barely felt comfortable in his own gay identity, let alone know anyone else who was the same. He was 18, a virgin, and only out to his parents and best friend. This was like leaping the high dive at the Olympics.

Justin took another deep breath and walked a few feet to the front door. The minute he stepped inside, his senses became overloaded with an onslaught of colors, sounds, and smells. At 4 o’clock in the afternoon, the place was bustling and almost filled to the rafters. He bit his lip and searched for a person who might be Debbie. Justin was about to turn back around and leave when a woman with a red wig, a loud graphic tee with sexual innuendo, and a rainbow vest bestowed with a million buttons walked up with a smile. Her name tag said Debbie.

“Hello there, sunshine.” She was chewing gum and wilder than Justin had ever experienced, yet he somehow felt safe.

“H-hi.” He stumbled over his words at first, but then, with a deep swallow, he continued, “I’m Justin. I'm here for the job interview?”

“Oh! Well, why don’t you go over to the counter, honey. I’ll get you settled as soon as I give those raging queens behind you their order.” She motioned behind her to the last open seat at the countertop by the register.

Justin glanced nervously around him. He allowed himself a moment of insecurity and then put his walls up. He couldn’t let anyone know he felt out of place, or they would pounce. With his chest out and head held high, the young man walked over to the counter and plopped down.

In the seat next to him was another man wearing the kind of clothes Justin wished he had the balls to wear. As an artist, he would love to wear loud colors and clothes that hugged his tiny frame. But as a WASP, he’d had subtlety and propriety drilled into him from a young age.

“My, my baby! I’ve never seen you here before. Aren’t you just adorable!” The colorful man addressed him with a distinctly Southern accent, laughing eyes, and a matching grin. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met. And I know everybody!”

“I’m new to the area. Here for a job interview.” Justin replied politely and gave the man a tight smile.

“Well, let Aunty Em help you out! I’ll be your tour guide for everything Liberty Avenue.” The man extended his hand for a shake in greeting.

“Jesus, Emmett.” Debbie appeared suddenly on the other side of the counter. “Give the poor kid room to breathe. I’m sorry, sunshine. Can I get you anything?”

“Just welcoming him to the neighborhood. Besides, if he’s here for a job, he’s gotta get used to us queens.” Emmett smiled between Debbie and Justin, “Especially being the cute young thing he is.”

Justin blushed when Emmett threw a wink his way.

“Alright, I know this isn’t ideal for an interview, but as you can see, we are up to our ears in customers. Why don’t we step into the kitchen, and I can ask you some questions.”

Debbie gave Justin a warm smile and directed him to the kitchen door. Something about this woman just put his mind at ease. Justin didn’t know how to explain it, but he knew she would look after him in this new world.

“Alright, so,” Debbie started as they sat in two chairs near the grill, “do you have any restaurant experience?”

“Can I be honest? I don’t have any work experience. I grew up in a privileged family. My dad always gave me anything I wanted. But,” Justin started strong, but reaching the part where his dad kicked him out because he was gay was something even he couldn’t say out loud.

“Let me guess. Your parents don’t like that you are gay.” Debbie put her hand over Justin’s in understanding.

“You can tell?”

“Honey, aside from me, everyone who works here has some kind of story about their parents not accepting them for who they are.” Debbie tilted her head and fixed her sympathetic eyes on the young blonde.

“Yeah. I’m a freshman over at PIFA. My dad wanted me to go to Dartmouth, but I’m not interested in business. When I came out to him and my mom, they seemed okay, but then I graduated, and he refused to support me anymore. So, now I need a job to help pay for college.” Justin gave her his best pleading look, hoping she would feel bad and give him the job.

“Well, not to worry, sunshine.” Debbie jumped up and pulled Justin along with her. “We are in desperate need of a waiter willing to work a flexible schedule. Our waitress Kiki can only work mornings which doesn’t help much.”

“I can work anytime after 11 am on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. I’m not available except at night on Mondays and Fridays since those are the days I have studio time. And on the weekends, do your worst to me.” Justin had a good feeling his life was going to turn around.

“You got yourself a job.” Debbie shook his hand before wrapping him up in a giant hug.

*****

Three Weeks Later

Justin rubbed his tired eyes. It was 8:30 am on a Friday, and he was supposed to be off due to his agreement with Debbie. But she had begged him to cover Kiki today. So, he gave up his usual studio time and promised to cover until his class at 1.

“Excuse me, waiter.” An irritated voice sounded from behind Justin, and he turned to find the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

He was tall, thin, and handsome. With brunette hair impeccably styled and piercing hazel eyes, he looked like he’d stepped off the pages of a GQ magazine.

“Could I get a coffee before I die?” His voice might sound irritated, but something about it caught Justin’s attention in a good way.

“Is that in the next two minutes?” Justin deposited a hand on his hip and cocked his eyebrow. He’d toughened up considerably in the weeks since he started, and this bitchy business queen didn’t scare him.

“No.” The man looked Justin in the eye, confused.

Suddenly, Debbie was there with her hand smacking the man upside his head. “Be nice, Brian. You’re not gonna die without a coffee.”

“Oh, come on, Deb. I was just…” The man named Brian started to argue, but Justin pouring him a cup of coffee, stopped him.

“Thanks!” He whipped around and smiled in a way that told Justin he was used to charming people into submission.

“Next time, a please would be nice. And a little patience.” Justin stated that before he turned to replace the coffee pot on the warmer, he headed over to one of the booths to take their order.

For some reason, Justin half expected Brian to be gone by the time he returned to the register after dropping off table 5’s order to the kitchen. But the man was still sitting at the counter, reading the newspaper and slowly nursing his coffee. Instead of engaging him to ask if he wanted a refill, Justin chose to ignore him completely. As he rang up one of the groups leaving, he noticed another man joined Brian. The shorter, geekier man wore a button-down and tie but didn’t have a suit jacket. Justin slowly approached the pair, wanting to snoop a bit beforehand. He grabbed the coffee pot and was prepared to ask the newcomer if he wanted a cup and Brian if he wanted a refill.

“Mikey, don’t you have somewhere to be? Somewhere not bothering me?” Brian groused at his companion. It gave Justin some satisfaction to know that Brian seemed short with everyone, not just the wait staff.

Justin stepped forward, afraid that he’d been standing off to the side a hair too long. “Would you like a refill?”

Brian looked up with a smirk. He closed the newspaper and folded it up. He stood up and fished out a wad of bills from his pocket without a response. He threw down a 10 and told Justin to keep the change. Justin stood in shock and watched as the two dark-haired men left the diner completely.

What did I just experience? WHO was THAT?!

He was so far in his head he didn’t realize Debbie was there until she snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Sunshine! I need you to take these plates to table 5.” Debbie gave him a pointed look and handed him three hot plates piled with food.

Justin nodded and did as he was asked. His mind was still on Brian, trying to make sense of him — especially the $9 tip he gave Justin for basically doing nothing.

“Hey, Debbie,” Justin stated as he returned to the counter and his mentor. “Can I ask you something about Brian?”

“Oh, Jesus. You too?” Debbie snorted and continued her current task of making more coffee.

“What do you mean, me too?” Justin was perplexed. He’d wanted to ask if getting such a large tip from the guy was normal, but Debbie seemed to think Justin was looking for something else.

“Just that everyone is always looking for Brian. Everybody wants to ask about Brian.” Debbie turned to Justin; for once, he understood why everyone at the diner always said she could be scary sometimes.

“I get the idea you don’t like him.” Justin chuckled nervously.

“My son, Michael, has been best friends with Brian since they were kids. Let’s just say Brian can be a bit selfish sometimes. I love him like a son, but I also want to slap him most of the time.” Debbie paused before she threw a warning at Justin, “Don’t even think about it. He chews up guys like you and spits them out. He’s not the commitment type.”

Justin nodded slowly, pulled the tip out of his pocket, and then asked what he’d really wanted to ask, “I just wanted to ask if Brian normally tipped ridiculous amounts. He got a cup of coffee and told me to keep the change from a 10.”

Debbie looked from Justin’s face to the money in his hand and then back up again. “Oh. Yes, Brian is always generous with his money. Like I said, sunshine, I love the guy. But be warned, he’s selfish with his heart.” She moved past him with a pat on his shoulder.

Justin still wasn’t sure why Debbie warned him so strongly about the businessman. But, as far as Justin was concerned, if he kept tipping like that, Justin would put up with just about anything from him. What he didn’t say to Debbie, and she didn’t explicitly ask, Justin wasn’t even thinking of a physical relationship with anyone. Let alone this guy named Brian.

Sure, he was attractive. Justin did have eyes, after all. But, overall, he was just another interesting patron, and Justin was just a waiter. In no version of Justin’s life could he see him ever interacting with Brian outside of diner-related exchanges.

#queer as folk #fanfiction #justin taylor #brian kinney #brian and justin #alternate universe #asexual spectrum representation

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dmwrites · 2 years

Text

“So, King Ren, huh?”

Ren dropped the squeaky bone he’d been holding contemplatively and yelped as Etho dropped from the rafters, crumpling rather unceremoniously on the floor in front of Ren’s throne.

“Etho! My dude! Two questions: are you okay, and what on earth are you doing chilling in my rafters? You scared the life out of me!” Ren put a hand to his heart, watching Etho stand up.

“It was supposed to be a cool landing!” Etho whined in that way only Etho can. “Pretend like it was. I’m okay. Owwww. Dang it!”

“Very impressive landing.” Ren nodded, smiling. “Now, my slabby dude, what was it you were saying?”

Etho seemed to remember he has been attempting to do something, and he straightened up again. “Yeah, uh, so King Ren, huh?”

“Crowned by our lovely bdouble0 himself.” Ren nodded, straightening the little crown on his head.

Etho looked at the crown and cocked an eyebrow. “Compensating for something, Ren?”

Ren was about to be offended, then did the mental math and grinned. “I mean, my dude, flattery will get you far with the king…”

Etho stared at him for a second- Ren could almost hear the computing sounds in his brain. “Oh nooo wait no that was supposed to be an insult! I-” Etho buried his face in his hands, but Ren had already seen the blush all over his face.

Ren chuckled. “It’s okay Etho my slab, everyone stumbles over their words in the presence of royalty! I mean I don’t know why you were trying to insult me when I am your king, but it’s very fun to watch you try!”

Etho let out the worlds most dramatic sigh. “You know what? I just remembered a meeting I gotta run to, super important, uh, yeah, bye!” Etho waved and went to the big open archway that lead to open air. He turned, looked at Ren for a moment. Despite the pink blush on his face, Ren was taken aback for a moment at the intense, studying look Etho gave him. “Long live the king… i suppose.” Etho whispered, but it still carried uncomfortably to Ren’s ears.

And then Etho jumped from the tower.

“WAIT I DON’T HAVE MY ELYTRA ON!”

Ren howled with laughter. It was so good to have Etho back.

——

“And then I said this badass line and fell from the castle but I was actually falling because I forgot to put my wings on!” Etho wailed, flopping dramatically over a beanbag chair in the corner of the room.

“That sucks.” Doc muttered, attempting to straighten a single wire in his mechanical arm. “Did you like forget how to be dark and mysterious in your absence?”

“I’m like the court jester roommate at this point!” Etho sighed. “I can’t believe it. I had this whole thing where I was gonna be like ‘oh Ren you really think you can be king’ and stuff because like it’s fun to psychologically torture Ren, but noooo I cringe-failed my way into a comical death!”

“It’s okay. I have a quote for days like this.” Doc said, pointing with his pliers at a glossy poster in the corner of his work station. “Everybody makes mistakes. The great philosopher Hannah Montana said that, and I think it’s words to live by.”

“You’re right. Hannah’s right.” Etho sighed, looking at the smiling girl with a guitar and funky outfit on the poster. “Oh but it’s still so embarrassing. Can we like start a revolution or something?”

#July 24 2022 #fic #hc9 #ethoslab #rendog #long post #okay this was supposed to be like dramatic but it took a turn lol #this is why I don’t write in the morning lmao

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hauntedjpegcollection · 6 months

Text

jealousy

wc: 1034 au: exorcist au ch: xavier, lark, benji, tino

“You’re being weird about it, you know.”

Xavier unfolds from his crouch and nearly bumps his head against the low hanging attic rafters. He swipes quick hands through his hair to dispel any cobwebs he might have crushed against by accident. It only makes his hair messier and more unkempt, which makes him look even more disheveled. He doesn’t have time to be self conscious about it—the duo downstairs don’t care what his hair looks like. Xavier has no idea why he lingers on it so long until he finally kicks a cardboard box petulantly.

“He just doesn’t seem like your type,” he replies, without knowing what else to say.

Lark is by the far end of the attic, headphones mostly on, a parabolic reader in his hands. He watches the device intently, brows tucked in. He looks professional and mature, even with the sloppy bleach dye job that leaves his dark roots sporadic here and there style. In all black, he should blend into the dark atmosphere. The only light is mostly from the window and the dust motes make everything look fuzzy and surreal.

His black eyes swing up from the reader to Xavier.

“You talk about Benji a lot, considering you hate him.”

“No I don’t,” Xavier huffs. He makes his way to the drop down ladder of the attic. He crouches once more and begins emptying salt into his hand to drizzle a fat line of it around the entrance. He’s read plenty about what he should be doing, or maybe how to help in the situation, and yet now that he’s here—he feels unsteady on his feet. Unsure and nervous.

There passes a moment of brief silence, and then—

“Do you think he notices?” Xavier stands slowly, brushing his hands awkwardly across his tattered jeans. Even that feels less official than Lark’s black cargo pants. The Priest is going to buy him clothes that suit the job properly—when he can find a store that sells them in tall and slender. He isn’t sure how he feels about returning to an all black wardrobe. Xavier had made the return to jeans happily. He’d felt more normal than he had in years, in plain denim. Converses. No bullet proof vests.

Lark’s turned around, focusing on an old wardrobe sat on its side. One door flat against the floor and open. It looks empty. Of anything material anyway. He shifts around a bit before he stands and looks over his shoulder to Xavier.

“Dude,” his face splits into a smile that is nostalgic and familiar. It puts dimples in his cheeks and he looks instantly younger. Like the best friend Xavier had made years ago and lost and just found again. “You’re being so obvious that I’m noticing. He’s going to think you’re my ex boyfriend and you have jealousy issues. Which you do.” Which makes both of them laugh. And then silence once more as they begin investigating opposite sides of the attic once more.

“It’s big by the way.”

“Huh?” Xavier stumbles over another cardboard box, eyes wide and arms out to keep himself steady. His heart is oddly out of rhythm, thundering disgustingly against his rib cage. There is a strange and dark heat lower than the ribcage that makes him instantly anxious. Lark is looking down at the reader, one hand to the headphones. He looks up, confused.

“The signal. It’s big.”

“Oh.”

The two friends stare at each other.

Then the salt around the attic entrance scatters and Xavier is swept up into the air by his ankle, screaming.

—

Tino’s hands sweep plaster dust from Xavier’s shoulders. He pats leather gloved hands on him creating puffs of dust and debris. Xavier tries to hold it in, but he immediately sneezes loudly and makes the priest lean back. He’s smiling, though. He has one of those kind older smiles, that have wrinkles at the corners of both his mustached mouth and his eyes. Xavier tries desperately to not feel excited to have that paternal attention, or to be on the receiving end of a little care.

“Well, that’s not how we were expectin’ that to go, right?”

“Sorry, sir,” Xavier replies, dusting his own hands off on himself. “I, uh, I think I was distracted.”

“Obviously.” Benji’s remark cuts in, his face set in that menacing sneer. Xavier’s cheeks warm painfully. His mouth opens to say something back—as they do. A constant snipping war that he feels unequipped for because Benji is undoubtedly more clever than he is. Faster with his words and harder to knock off balance. He hasn’t once made Benji blush the way he has.

Only Lark’s hand closes around his elbow and Xavier’s teeth click shut.

“Stop being an ass, Benji,” he comments, shifting around to join them by the van.

“Oh, are you goin’ t’stop me, then?”

“Aren’t you tired from a long day of not helping exorcise a spirit?”

“I helped,” Benji’s face turns from sneering to pouting so quickly, the fluid motion fascinates Xavier. His eyebrows take on a different tilt. A softer one, and his lower lip protrudes in such a way that it looks fuller. Nicer. Xavier stares for a long moment, before he looks over at Tino, who is equally staring at him. The sudden feeling of being caught makes him jump for the van.

“Well, y’all did good. Regardless. We’ll have to explain the damage to the attic,” and Tino’s voice slowly becomes a nice even sound for Xavier to listen to. He situates himself into the back seat, long legs awkwardly folded up, arms around himself as he leans his head against the window. He has a horrible bruise on his side from the spirit, but otherwise, he’d not gotten too badly hurt.

Weight shifts the van around and he rolls his head to the side, expecting Lark. Only Benji sits there instead. His hands are already fishing through the nice, black leather jacket he wears. He produces headphones and without looking at Xavier, promptly puts them in his ears and looks out the other window.

For the whole ride home, Xavier tries not to notice that their knees occasionally bump together.

#xw #bp #lt #tl #exorcist au #writing

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harrywavycurly · 2 years

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So thanks to @findoutwhoyougonnacall I have been thinking of Vampire Eddie a lot. Now not like just any kind of vampire Eddie, like a cross between being all romantic and suave like Dracula and being a clumsy, messy, slightly dumb Lost Boys type vampire.

Like imagine you know Eddie is a vamp and you go over to his place after work and it’s just disgusting because he just fed on something and you’re like “what’s actually wrong with you? How can you live like this? It looks like the back end of a butcher’s shop in here.” But then as you make your way into the living room to drop your bag by the couch you turn and your face to face with him but he’s hanging upside down from a rafter on the ceiling and he’s all “I can’t help it sweetheart, you know I’ve always been a messy eater.”

Or when he comes to visit you late at night and he’s just sitting on the chair in the corner of your room watching you sleep like he usually does until he sees you tossing and turning. He’d be by your side in a heartbeat, brushing some hair out of your face and cupping the side of your face with one of his hands. “You’re okay.” his voice would instantly soothe you and he’d smile as he feels your body relax into his touch as your eyes open. “You left me.” Eddie would shake his head as his hand falls from your face, you’d move over in bed to make room for him to lay next to you. “I’d never leave you,” He’d reassure you as you snuggle into his side and rest your head on his chest, “It was just a bad dream.” He’d lean down and place a kiss to the top of your head, he’d run his hands up and down your back making your eyes feel heavy as he’d lull you back to sleep knowing how grouchy you are when you don’t get a good night’s rest. “Go to sleep sweetheart.” Would be the last thing you’d hear being whispered into your ear before you fall fast asleep.

Or like when he’s all “You’re bleeding.” You’d raise an eyebrow at Eddie as his eyes fixate on the bandage wrapped around your finger. “Uh no I was bleeding it’s stopped now.” You’d correct him and he’d just let out a sigh as he drags a hand over his face. “Baby…I can smell it, you’re bleeding.” He’d motion to your hand making you look down and damn if he wasn’t right, your bandage was bright red and in desperate need of being changed. “Okay is this going to be an issue? Should I leave and go change it or can I change it in front of you?” You’d ask as you dig around in your medicine cabinet for a new bandage. Eddie would let out a small chuckle as he leans against the entrance of your kitchen. “Are you asking if I can control myself and not devour you as a little afternoon snack?” You’d look at him with a raised eyebrow as you grab a fresh bandage and close your cabinet. “Oh please I’d be more than a snack I’d be like an early dinner.” Eddie would laugh as you begin changing your bandage all while keeping an eye on your boyfriend who seemed fine for the time being. “Don’t worry darling, I have no desire to eat you.” Before you’d know it he’d be standing in front of you as you place the fresh bandage around your finger having tossed the old one in the trash. “Or at least I don’t want to suck your blood.” He’d explain as he leaned down to place a kiss to the spot just below your ear.

#but like imagine it??? a dorky yet sexy vampire eddie? bye sign the up #vampire!eddie #eddie munson vampire #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #vampire!eddie x reader #eddie munson #my little dungeon master baby #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you

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bookwormscififan · 5 months

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My Heart is Yours, and My Life Depends on You

First part | Previous part

A/N: Mad sets out to rescue Mare. Some scenes not at all inspired by certain scenes in Captain America: Civil War.

Warnings: there's quite a bit of blood. Death mention.

Lifting one of the floorboards in the cabin, Mad pulled out a tattered calico bag, dropping it on the floor and replacing the floorboard. Opening the bag, Mad removed several daggers and a crossbow, checking the string wasn’t frayed before slinging it over his shoulder, attaching the quiver of arrows to his hip and standing.

A glance outside the window told him the sun was due to set in the next few minutes, and Mad took a deep breath in before strapping on his boots, slipping a danger into one and straightening up. He pulled a leather cord from around his neck, pressing a kiss to the gold ring tied onto the cord when it was removed from under his shirt, steeling himself before tucking the ring away again.

The last time he used the crossbow was over a hundred years ago, defending his clearing from the humans who were trying to kill him. The arrows still had specks of dried blood on them, points still deadly sharp from his obsessive sharpening of them to calm him down.

“Mare,” Mad whispered, glancing at the empty bed and turning around, “I’m coming to get you.”

----

Mad poked his head around the corner, checking for sentries before turning into the street, crossbow held in his hands and teeth bared, running across the drive to stand to the side of the large warehouse door, listening for voices.

“…to drain him,” a voice said, close to the door Mad stood beside, voice slurred. “He doesn’t seem too tough to knock out.” Mad growled low in his throat, wanting to kill the man on the other side of the door.

“He’s literally marked by an elder vampire,” another voice argued, tone soft but still determined. “If you don’t want to deal with the old-fashioned methods of elder vampires, I’d suggest letting him go but keeping tabs on him.”

“Yes, let me go,” Mad’s stomach twisted at hearing the hoarse voice of Mare, still snarky despite the evidence he’d been mistreated. “Let me go, and then follow me to meet my boyfriend.” Mad shook his head, holding back a laugh as he skirted around the warehouse to find a better entrance.

Mare was laid on a hard bench, ropes tightly binding his arms and legs, fresh blood seeping through the bandages on his wrist and staining his shirt. He had a few bruises in places from where he’d fought his captors, lip split and amethyst eyes almost swallowed by the twin black eyes swelling his sockets.

The vampires stood by the warehouse door, one wearing brass knuckles while the other had chains wrapped around his arms, discussing how best to kill Mare and catch Mad. Mare sighed, thudding his head against the bench as he listened to the two arguing.

“For god’s sake, either kill me now or knock me out,” Mare groaned, rolling his eyes. “If I have to listen to you two arguing any more, I’d much rather die.” Before the vampires had a chance to retort, an arrow struck one’s neck, knocking him down while the other immediately ran to Mare, holding a knife against his throat as he looked around for the origin of the arrow.

Mare breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the glint of light off the twin red eyes in a rafter, face hidden by a crossbow aimed at the vampire near Mare. He smiled at Mad, seeing the brief flash of relief in his eyes before they hardened again as he climbed down.

“Let my claim go,” Mad snarled, voice low as he moved closer to the bench, “Or I’ll kill you before you even get a chance to feed.” He stopped at the foot of the bench, briefly glancing to Mare to check he was alright.

Mare managed a slight nod, forcing a smile at Mad to assure him he was alright, then gasping when the other vampire ran the blade across half of his throat, choking on the blood slowly entering his airways. Warmth pooled at the base of his neck, vision going blurry as he watched Mad’s eyes widen, hearing the sound of the crossbow shooting followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor, and he struggled to breath as Mad untied him, lifting him to hold against his chest.

“Mare, you’re going to be alright, you’re ok, please,” Mad rambled, ripping strips of fabric from his jacket to press against the wound on his neck, tears filling his eyes as he struggled to stop the bleeding.

“Mad…” Mare gasped, lifting a bloodstained hand to cup Mad’s cheek, smearing blood across his cheekbone. “It’s alright…” his voice gurgled as he continued to choke on his own blood, looking pleadingly at Mad.

“No, no, no…” Mad sobbed, leaning down to lap at the slash on his throat, trying in vain to clean the wound. “Please, please don’t. Please, I love you…” He watched the light drain from Mare’s eyes, gaze full of love as he looked at Mad, and his hands fell from his neck.

“No. No, I’m not letting this happen.” Mad bit his lip before holding his wrist to his lips, biting harshly into the flesh and feeling his blood well in his mouth. Leaning down, he pressed his bleeding wrist to the open gash on Mare’s neck, kissing Mare’s lips and letting the bitter blood pass into his mouth.

“Please work,” he pleaded, pressing a kiss to Mare’s forehead before scooping him up, carrying him back to the cabin where he laid him down on the bed, working carefully to bandage his throat before sitting back and haphazardly bandaging his own wrist.

------

@iamvegorott (😈) @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons

#writing #fanfiction #nwtb fanfiction #natemare #madmare #madpat #vampire au #blood tw #death mention tw #hehe mad can use a crossbow #natural born hunter right there

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andiinaraethtash · 2 years

Text

Chapter 15: Well, You Look Like Yourself (But You're Somebody Else)

Notes:

TW: Fallout from betrayal, and that pesky demon, who is his own warning. Chapter title from Somebody Else by Flora Cash

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Joel’s day has been rotten from the start, and he’d like everyone to know that. First, there were multiple raids all over the place that he had to fight off, first in Mezalia, then in the Ocean Empire, then finally in Mythland. Then, Pearl turned on them for no reason, and killed him, sending him back to Mezalia, and when he got back to Mythland, he found that everyone had left without waiting for him.

It takes him the rest of the night to get to Rivendell, where Katherine had told Sir Carlos they were going, and it’s so bitterly cold there, he immediately wishes he was back home.

The others are all waiting for him outside Scott’s house, all of them except Jimmy. With the exception of Sausage, none of them are really dressed for the current conditions, and thus are all huddled next to the large building, trying to absorb whatever meagre warmth the building provided.

He lands, nearly slips on ice, and recovers as quickly as he can. “What’s up, guys, why are we all outside?”

Shrub makes a face that’s somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “We’re waiting to see if Jimmy’s got through to Scott. We think he has, it’s stopped storming, but they’ve not answered the few times we’ve kno—”

She’s interrupted by the ice over the doorway thawing out, like someone had just placed a bucketful of lava next to it. Expectantly, they all turn, and Scott, who’s standing in the doorway, hunches in on himself, like he’s trying to hide.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and steps aside.

Jimmy’s standing right behind him, and, with a quick glare in Sausage’s direction, gestures for them to come in.

It’s almost as cold inside as it is outside, the only real difference being the lack of wind. There’s frost covering every surface, snow piled up in the corners, and icicles hanging from the rafters. It’d be beautiful if it wasn’t so unnatural.

Joel stomps his feet and rubs his hands together in an effort to warm up slightly. Pix and Joey at the small stove, firing it up so it can start warming up the room, while Katherine and Shrub are at Scott’s side, talking to him in an undertone. Meanwhile, Lizzie is checking over Jimmy, and Joel almost chuckles to hear her tutting over a cut on his cheekbone.

Almost. It’s another sign that something bad happened while he was on his way here, and it rubs at him wrong that Lizzie’s the only one fussing over him. Usually Scott would be right there beside him, but…

Joel actually takes a moment to look at the elf king, and raises an eyebrow at what he sees. Scott is curled inwards, shoulders tense and hands shaking visibly even from across the room. He keeps sending glances around at all of them, like he’s afraid of them—and he probably is. He’s been betrayed too many times for him to be comfortable letting them in close.

He’s about to collapse into the nearest chair when he realises he hasn’t accounted for someone. Looking around, he spots Sausage at the front door, looking longingly back the way they’d come, like he’s thinking of home—or of Pearl.

(Honestly, with fWhip and Gem gone, Pearl had been the closest thing to home Sausage had, aside from Mythland itself.)

With a heavy sigh, Joel sinks down into the chair next to him and waves Sausage over. It takes a moment for the other man to notice, and even when he does, he just stares at Joel like he doesn’t understand what he’s asking him to do.

Finally, Joel gives up on waving him over and just outright calls, “Sausage, get in here, you’re letting all the warm air out.”

Sausage looks down at the pieces of wood littering the ground, then back up, and Joel realises those are what remains of the door.

Feeling marginally stupid, he sighs again. “Just get over here. It’s warmer inside.”

Sausage glances at Scott, then at Jimmy, who’s pointedly ignoring him, then reluctantly comes over. He picks a chair and sits, but doesn’t say anything, which is just… unusual. Unnatural. Weird. But Joel’s not one to press, so he lets it be.

Jimmy and Lizzie disappear upstairs, then come back down a minute later with a thick woolen blanket, which they pin to the door frame. Immediately the lodge gets a bit warmer. With a groan of relief, Joel slumps over in his seat.

”What are we going to do now?” Shrub asks softly, looking up at Scott, who just shrugs hopelessly.

Instead, Jimmy answers. “We, erm, we should probably do something to stop the ritual Xornoth’s planning. He’s got a lot of stuff, but we don’t know what all he needs. If there’s anything else, we have to stop him from getting it.”

“Easier said than done,” Pix says. “Do we have any idea what the ritual calls for, Scott, Sausage?”

Sausage shakes his head, but Scott nods, pursing his lips. “He needs a focusing item, an item that represents the entity he’s trying to summon, and something to anchor it. In the past, people have used blood as an anchor, but usually their own blood. Anchoring it to us… would mean that as long as all of us are alive, Exor will be able to remain here, and since we’re all land-bonded…”

Lizzie hisses, and Joel grabs her hand on instinct. “What about the other items?”

“Well, the item that represents Exor could be anything, but if I had to guess, he’d just use something easy to obtain, like a corrupted vine. As for the focusing item… I don’t know. It’d have to be magically quite strong in order to work, and even stronger physically to tolerate that kind of power for as long as Xornoth’s going to need it to.”

For the first time, Sausage speaks. “Something like the dragon egg?”

Jimmy sends him a caustic glare, before turning to Scott, his expression only softening marginally. Joel isn’t sure why he’s acting the way he is, but it’s disconcerting, to say the least.

Scott is nodding, though, which is bad, because if the egg can be used, then Xornoth has everything he needs to do the ritual.

Which begs the question, why hasn’t he done it yet?

Joel asks as much aloud, and Katherine pipes up. “Well, the decree said we had to give him our blood before the new moon, so maybe it can only be done then?”

Immediately, Shrub is grimacing. “Guys, the new moon is only five days away. We don’t have much time to come up with a plan.”

Joel groans. “Gods, I wish we could just ignore it and it’d go away.”

Joey huffs. “Not all of us have had that option.”

Sausage nods, and Joel levels them both a flat glare. “I never said I had done that.”

“But you did,” Joey fires back. “You pretended Xornoth was a figment of our imagination for months up until he killed fWhip, while the rest of us were actually dealing with him!”

“Yeah, by joining him,” Joel says with a scoff, and Joey and Sausage both reel back like they’ve been struck.

“Joel, Joey, be nice,” Jimmy says, and Joel just glares at him.

“What, like you’re playing nice with Scott and Sausage?”

Jimmy looks offended. “I have actual cause to—they thought I was the one to betray them! After everything, after how hard I fought him, they thought I would be the one to sell them out!”

Joel raises an eyebrow, but neither Scott nor Sausage deny it. Instead, they both hang their heads.

“I’m sorry,” Scott mutters. “I know that doesn’t make up for it, but I am. I just… the way Xornoth was singling you out, I thought—and since that was the worst-case scenario, I—I guess I assumed the worst.”

Sausage nods. “Losing you would have been a heavy blow to all of us. I mean, the Codfather Alliance follows you, and you’re one of my closest friends, and Pearl…” He cuts himself off, sounding choked, and Shrub reaches over to squeeze his hand.

Joel honestly hadn’t noticed anything that indicated that they had thought that, but they must have as they aren’t denying it. Still, he’s deflated a good deal since Jimmy had his outburst, now that he understands.

Behind his chair, Lizzie shifts uncomfortably. “The bad thing is, Pearl knows how we think, she knows how we’re going to react, especially Sausage. She’s going to sabotage us.”

Sausage’s head snaps up. “She wouldn’t. I told you, she’s working an angle, she’s got a plan—”

“A plan that involves her killing us?” Joel asks, because he can’t imagine why Sausage is defending her. His throat is still stinging from being slashed open.

Now, Sausage is glaring at him. “She would never do that unless she had a plan.”

“Sausage,” Scott says tiredly, softly, like even he doesn’t want to admit what he’s about to say. “How would she have convinced Xornoth she’s on his side?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then freezes. It takes several seconds and Shrub shaking his shoulder to get him to respond. “I—I don’t—but she can’t have betrayed us. She’s all I’ve got left.”

Surprisingly, Joel actually tears up a bit at the raw despair in Sausage’s voice. He quickly dashes the tears away, but not before Jimmy notices. He mouths a quick, ‘you okay?’ at Joel, and Joel nods, then turns back to Sausage.

“Look, mate, I’d love to believe that she’s got some sort of plan, too, but we need to be realistic, or at the very least, we need to prepare for the worst. And in this case, the worst is that Pearl actually did betray us, and she knows what we’re going to do next, and she’s going to help Xornoth stop us.”

Sausage wilts. There’s no other way to describe it, he just crumples, head bowing and shoulders drooping, face screwing up like he’s trying hard not to cry.

No one says anything for a long moment, waiting for Sausage to regain his composure, before finally Joey, who’d been fairly quiet for the last few minutes, reaches out and squeezes Sausage’s shoulder.

“I know,” He whispers, “I know it hurts, when they betray you like this, but you will survive, and give them back the hell they gave you.”

“I don’t want to give Pearl hell,” Sausage says, head in his hands. “I just want her back.”

Pix sighs, crossing his arms. “Sadly, the probability of that happening is low, and we all know it. Even you, Sausage.”

Sausage scrubs his face wearily, then nods, straightening. “Okay, then what’s our next move?” He still sounds tired as he asks it, but it’s a good question.

One that none of them have answers for.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jimmy suggests, “How about we split up into teams of three and check on the empires that were raided? We need to assess the damage.”

They nod, and Joel turns to Lizzie. “M’Lady?”

She forces a smile and nods. “Let’s go.”

_______

When he opens his eyes, it’s with a sigh of relief, because he’s actually the one opening them. He makes a conscious effort to blink, then crane his neck so he can look around, afraid his body won’t respond, but, no, he stays in control.

Idly, fWhip mentally tries to connect with his “roommate,” but there’s no answer. He just gets a faint impression of cold and the demon nursing his wounds before it fades.

Well, that’s a relief. Seems Scott was able to wound him, and fWhip can’t say he’s mad about it, especially if it results in him finally being back in control.

He pushes himself to his feet and almost immediately has to sit back down, because wow, he was not expecting a headrush that intense. Taking a steadying breath, he manages to get a good look at his surroundings, and is mildly surprised to find himself in his study.

He’d kind of blacked out as soon as the ice found its way from Scott’s hands to his veins, so waking up here is… not necessarily surprising, but unexpected. He’d have thought he’d be somewhere a little less… accessible. Anyone could walk in, though why anyone would intentionally seek him out is anyone’s guess.

Still, he takes in the room, the ruined parchments across the desk soaked in ink and tattered from one of Xornoth’s fits of rage, the piles of books strewn haphazardly across the floor, and worst of all, the creeping vines of corruption that covered the outside of the windows.

Closing his eyes, he releases the breath he’d been holding and tries not to sob. What has he done? This is all his fault, he’s not strong enough to fight off Xornoth, what is he supposed to do?

Setting his head in his hands, he maybe, maybe lets a few tears spill out, but quickly composes himself. No. No, he may not be strong enough to fight off the demon, but he’s got a chance now to do some damage, and he’s going to grab it with both hands and run.

This time, he stands more slowly, hands braced against the desk just in case, but the headrush isn’t as bad as it had been. Quickly, he scrounges for a piece of parchment that hasn’t been ruined. It takes a minute, but he finds one, and quickly starts scrawling down coordinates. His handwriting is sloppier than usual, which he chalks up to the rush he’s feeling and not the way his hands are shaking because what if Xornoth comes back before he can get this to Pearl, what if they find out what he’s planning, if, if, if…

He hates that word.

As soon as the ink is no longer tacky, he rolls the parchment up and hurries out of the room. He’s dizzy, and feels weak and like he’s barely in control of his body, but he pinches himself and he feels it, and he knows that right now, this is his body, not Xornoth’s, no matter how disconnected he feels.

It takes him time—precious time he might not have—to find anyone, but when he does, it’s exactly the person he was hoping for.

“Pearl,” he sighs with relief, and she stiffens.

She’s staring at the two chairs in the throne room, her back to him, and she stiffens the moment she hears his voice.

(It’s weird, hearing his own, non-garbled voice coming from his mouth, and weirder still that his mouth wants to give the words an elvish accent. But it’s his voice, and Pearl still stiffens.)

“Xornoth,” she says evenly, still not turning around, and fWhip wonders what he looks like if she really can’t stand the sight of him.

Still, he flinches at the sound of the demon’s name. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to hear that name again without feeling that pit in his stomach. “Not Xornoth. It’s me.”

Pearl scoffs. “Like I’ll fall for that. You’ve pulled enough tricks that I know I can’t trust a word you say.”

“Pearl, please, just listen to me—”

“Stop!” She shouts, finally turning around, and he’s startled to see tears in her eyes. “Stop using his voice, stop using him—take me if you have to, but—just stop, you monster!”

This time, he bows his head at the words, tears in his own eyes, because even though she thinks she’s talking to Xornoth, he’s the one hearing the words, and he’s the one taking them to heart. He clenches his fists, and the crinkle of parchment suddenly reminds him of why he’s here.

“Mythland and the Crystal Cliffs.”

That stops Pearl in her tracks. “What?”

He straightens, looking her in the eye, and is surprised to see shock flitting across her features. “Mythland and the Crystal Cliffs. That’s where he’s rigged to blow. But you’re going to have to be careful, it’s rigged with end crystals, not TNT, so disarming it is going to be tricky, but if you—”

He’s cut off by Pearl tackling him in a hug, and all at once, he’s aware of every part of his body, and every part of him aches. He rests his head against her shoulder, letting himself one, maybe two quick sobs, before he’s pushing her away enough to hand her the parchment.

“Coordinates,” he explains at her confused look. “They’re all connected, so I just gave you the rough coordinates I could remember. You just need to find one, then follow the redstone to the next, and so on.”

Pearl nods as she unfurls the scroll, then frowns. “What are these?” She asks, pointing to a third set of coordinates. “That’s not in the Crystal Cliffs or in Mythland.”

fWhip shakes his head. “Nether coordinates. Go there last. I’ll meet you there if I can, but disarm the bombs first.”

She nods again, pulls him in for a quick hug, then picks up her sword and scabbard from where they’d been resting against the wall and strides toward the door. There, she hesitates, and he waves her on, hoping his seriousness spurs her on. It must, because she turns and leaves, and he’s left alone.

As soon as the door is closed, he’s turning away and sinking to his knees. He covers his face with his hands, and just sits there for a moment, debating what to do next.

Well, the most obvious thing is to sabotage Xornoth more, but the best way he can think of doing that is by destroying the phials of blood they’d just taken from the other rulers. The only problem is that he’s not sure where they would have stored it.

It’d probably be best to retrace Xornoth’s steps. He’d have had to have stored it somewhere between where they teleported back and the study, where he woke up. Cursing himself for not thinking to ask Pearl where they’d landed, he straightens and heads back to the study.

He’s worn out by the time he reaches it, but the moment he does, he spots something that should make things a lot easier: an ender chest. Of course they’d store it in there, he realises. No better place, after all, seeing as no one else could open it up and see the same contents that Xornoth did.

Quickly fWhip hurries over and presses down on the latch, waits a beat, then flings the top open, but he’s immediately disappointed, because honestly he should have anticipated that. Of course the chest would have different contents if it was him versus Xornoth.

Frustrated, he slams the chest shut, and paces over to the window, where he’s startled to see how much the landscape has changed. It’s more jagged than the mesa that makes up Joel’s kingdom, and utterly ruined besides. What had been dry plains are now canyons filled with eerie red fog, and there’s no way he can think of of healing the land.

Gods above and below, what has he done? What people have survived Xornoth’s reign must have sworn never to return, and after seeing the destruction wrought by his own hand, he can see why.

Another thought strikes him, and he half-way turns around, only to remember that Xornoth put the crown in the ender chest as well, so there’s no way he can retrieve that and pass it on to someone more worthy.

If there’s anything else he can do, he can’t think of it. He lets his shoulders slump, and he turns back to the window, only to physically recoil as he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. It takes a beat for his heart to settle, but the moment it does, he leans forward, determined to get a better look at himself.

He’d been pointedly ignoring the flashes of blackened skin that peeked out between his gloves and his coat sleeves, but now, now it’s impossible to ignore the fact that his entire body looks like a piece of coal, occasional pulses of crimson flashing through his veins. He’s got horns, large and unwieldy that he’s somehow forgotten about, protruding from his forehead. And of course, he’s got the crimson corruption practically growing on him, like he’s a walking fungus or something.

But in the midst of all that, blue eyes are shining out from the face he barely recognizes. His blue eyes. There’s a bit of red starting to creep into the irises, but for right now they’re his. He’s in control, and he’s going to savour the feeling of voluntarily taking a breath and actually feeling it fill his lungs.

On a sudden impulse, he decides he’s going to go see Gem, let her know that he’s okay, that he is still holding on, still fighting, but before he can turn around, his muscles lock up, and he catches a glimpse of glowing red eyes before a familiar voice is echoing in his mind.

“And what do you think you’re up to?”

Notes:

Dun-dun-dun!

#empiresblr #empires smp #fanfiction #creative writing #chapter fifteen

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creeping-kommando · 2 months

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At last, he had her cornered. Her guardian had been cut off, she had nowhere else to run. Hours of chasing drained her of all her tricks. Slowly, the protector of the cradle turned around, her back to a wall. Strangely, she wasn't wearing her armor anymore. Did she always have hair?

An echoing thud echoed through complex as Grimgrod landed. Having jumped from the rafters of the building, the Ork slowly stood to his full height, gleaming red eyes peering through his helmet to stare at Meredith. He’d stomp forwards with thunderous footsteps, the pistons in his legs releasing pressurized hisses with each foot fall.

Ksskh-tsst, Kssh-tsst, Kssh-tsst

Fingers wrapping around one of his knives, Grimgrod unsheathed the blade, spinning it in his grip as his eyes studied Meredith. Most other Orks would have had a difficult time identifying change in a human’s appearance, but the Boss-Kommanda was a Blood Axe, and dealing with humans was their bread and butter. So upon finally standing in front of ‘Meredith’, his massive bulk looming over her, he’d find that she was far different than usual.

Pointing the tip of the blade at her face, Grimgrod asked,

“Wot is this? Yoo tryin to pull one ovah me again?!” The words came out in a snarl, knife drawing closer as he inspected her, the differences in appearance becoming far more startling. Did he get confused?

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madcatdaderpydrawer-blog · 2 years

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The first scenario I thought of where Gregory would need to save one of the twins is in regards to the Monty golf minigame where he is decommissioned. At first instead of Gregory going in there alone, Moon ends up in there before Sun and Gregory and unbeknownst to him it was a trap. He ended up getting trapped in the play area, as the doors separated him from his brother and the kid and trapped him with Monty. He tries to reassure his brother at first, saying that he’ll just stay near the ceiling for now until they can meet back up.

There’s silence on his end for a few minutes while Sun and Gregory plan how to get into gator golf, only for a delightful message to pop in on the watch that “MONTY CAN REACH THE CEILING”. The gator is aided by the carts as well as the rafters, which was something he realized a bit too late and he almost got slammed straight into the floor. Sun freaked out and tried to unlock the door, but again Moon was locked in and any vents that lead into that area of gator golf are too small for either to get through. Moon is rather quick on his feet, but he isn’t made to have lots of energy like Sun is and he isn’t as fast as him; He can only run for so long, and Monty golf is still very unfamilar to him. There isn’t many places to hide, not many good perches that Monty can’t reach either. So it’s pure sprinting around the rafters dodging shit Monty hurls at him, including fucking gold carts.

Gregory, though, can fit into the vent and sneaks in. And this gremlin climbs up the sides of the rafters and manages to end up really high up and out of sight right near the top of the massive bucket which most likely involved some VERY dangerous maneuvers over fast moving parts ( Moon nor Monty notice him there, as they are both kinda preoccupied). He then told Moon that he had an idea, and specifically asked “I have an idea. Do you trust me?” which made Moon really nervous because when you have to start an idea with that it’s probably not a good thing. But it wasn’t like he had much of a choice either, so he asked Gregory what he had in mind via the fazwatch conenction- yet again, completely unaware that he was there too. Busy running for his life essentially; Though Sun DID notice Gregory’s absence and almost freaked out until Gregory mentioned having a plan, though he still wished Gregory would of explained it to him FIRST before going off to do whatever it is he was doing. Gregory told Moon that he needed to get Monty to hit the target with the stuff he was throwing; Moon was... not entirely sure how that would help, being as again he hadn’t really been in gator golf too much before. And it seemed like a bad idea to stay still long enough to not only get into the air, but get Monty to throw something at him and then dodge fast enough for it to hit the target instead but he did it. Sun tried to help by keeping an eye on the cameras, though honestly all that was doing was making him an anxious mess because he was watching his brother try and dodge this massive gator that could probably kill him very easily.

Monty isn’t stupid though, and realized what Moon was trying to do. I’m pretty sure there’s an ingame report about Monty getting damaged by the bucket in the past, so I think he’d catch on before Moon knew what the plan was himself. The logical thing to do? Tear one of the shooters out of their stand and throw it as hard as he can to the next target. Before he had been only aiming directly at Moon and he didn’t notice the change just long enough that the shooter hit him and knocked him back down into the rafters. Somehow he avoided getting severely damaged, but his leg got injured as that is where he got hit and considering he was relying purely on speed that basically spelled a death sentence.

Or so he thought. Cause while he couldn’t run far, and where he did end up ended up being a dead end there was juuust enough weight from what he had done before for Gregory’s plan to work. Moon ended up cornered in an area similar to where the boss battle ends in game, though the button wasn’t there. Gregory yelled “DUCK!” before using all the strength in his little gremlin body to push the bucket off kilter. Due to the massive amount of balls in it, it only took a little movement for it to swing down. Moon managed to duck in time despite grappling with a giant pissed off gator that was most likely trying to tear out his throat. If it makes more sense, Monty was probably holding Moon off the ground to ya know tear out his throat and when Gregory yelled to “duck” Moon swung flipped around so that he was being held lower to the ground and essentially rolled out of his grip the moment it loosened, just as the rafter that he would’ve been on collapsed taking Monty out with it. It’s only THEN that Moon noticed Gregory up in the depths of the ceiling. Gregory, pleased with himself, happily jumped down- almost giving his nighttime father a stroke, but he DID catch him. After that they managed to get the doors opened, and somehow Moon was relatively unharmed and Gregory got the claws he wanted in the first place. Sun practically smothered his brother the moment the door opened because holy shit, that was way too close.

Now I want feedback about this, because it’s my first time writing this sort of idea. And of course if you want clarification I’ll try to explain to the best of my abilities!

#fnaf security breach au #twin dads au #fnaf gregory #daycare attendant #fnaf sun #sunrise #sundrop #fnaf moon #moondrop #fnaf monty #monty boss fight

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akaashisupremacy · 3 years

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Moments of Courage

Summary: Osamu Miya is a difficult ex to have. When your paths cross endlessly, you try to rebuild your relationship. Will there be second chances? Or just more broken hearts?

HQ Masterlist || Multi-fandom Masterlist || Read it on A03

Osamu Miya x reader

“Are you leaving this party because of me?”

Osamu calls you out from the tiny hallway of your friend’s get together. After locking eyes with him, you did your best to subtly scamper towards the door.

“You don’t have to go. I can leave if it’s making you uncomfortable.” he assures.

You shake your head, “You can stay. I’m not having that much fun.”

You begin shuffling through the coat rack to look for yours. You’re desperate for anything to cut the time talking to him, talking about him. The only guaranteed way for this to stop is to leave.

“Are you hiding from me?” he asks almost rhetorically. His brows are gently raised.

“Yeah, obviously,” you retort, “I don’t want to be seen by you or with you.”

Osamu Miya is your ex. After over a year of dating, he decided to end things with you in a small cafe far off his onigiri stall.

“I’m too busy,” he claimed, “You deserve someone who could give you more time.”

You reasoned out that you didn’t mind not spending so much time together. His job was time-consuming. You understood that.

But Osamu was unsettled. You didn’t mind cheering him on from the benches waiting for him to finish up work. You liked seeing Osamu do things he was passionate about. And yet he felt unsettled, because he knew this was the type of work you would not engage in.

Osamu pressed on, “I’m sure you’ll find yourself someone more worldly, more sophisticated in the city. I don’t want to prevent you from meeting someone like that.”

Something dropped at the pit of your stomach. Your mouth was ajar. He’s really trying to break up with you. It’s no secret that you preferred the city and Osamu the countryside, but neither of you seemed to mind. You’d both make the time to visit each other. You made it work.

You remember barely touching your drink. Listening to him talk was like having a ton of bricks dropped on your back. The sunlight pouring in from the glass window suddenly felt prickly.

“I just don’t think we’re a good fit.” he swallowed, unable to look you in the eye, “I think someone from the country, someone simpler and more traditional would be better for me.”

You don’t miss the yearning in his voice, the dreaminess for someone who was clearly not you. He’d always tease that you were a true blue big city girl. You liked the tall buildings, the noise and the fancy department stores. You thought it was a point of endearment, but apparently not.

It’s been almost a year since you last saw him. He looks so unaffected it irks you.

“I broke up with you respectfully. Why are you mad?” he scratches his head.

It takes all your self-control to not slap him across the face.

“Because you hurt me! You’ve hurt me so…so…much.” your voice hitches before you can catch it. This is so humiliating. He’s clearly moved on from you.

Tears start pouring down your face. You quickly hide your eyes behind your coat.

“You’d eventually realize that I’m not right for you.” he murmurs, “We’re too different.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me.” you snap, clenching your fists, “So is this is it? To make you feel better you’re going to date a small town girl to solve all your problems.”

“Well, Kita did introduce me to someone lately.” he unironically replies, “She works in her family ryokan (inn) and we work similar hours. I think we’ll understand each other more than we did.”

Your eyes narrow.

“There’s no point staying in a relationship that I can’t make time for. Why can’t you understand that?” he snaps back.

It is one thing to be left for someone else and another for him to dump you just because. Somehow you feel like you lost even if you didn’t even have competition. He simply didn’t want you.

Your face contorts into an angry frown.

You slip on your coat and grab the door. “Man, you are a terrible ex. Do you know how it hurts when you tell me how wrong I was for you?”

When Osamu regains his cool, he tries to reach out to you, “I didn’t mean it that way…I didn’t feel good that I could make time for ‘ya and so I let the relationship go. Because i don’t know…—“

“Well, this is all just theory anyways.” he says, “I haven’t met Kita’s friend yet. We haven’t gone out yet, just the two of us.”

You do a double turn. “What?!?”

“Yeah, we’re working all the time but we haven’t made the time to meet.”

You break into a laugh. He stands stunned and confused.

“You know what? You stay behind. You left the last time. I want to be the one to leave this time.” you sigh, closing the door behind you.

You don’t turn back to see the look on his face.

————————————— Osamu mostly works in the countryside which means that you’d be less likely to run into each other in the city. It’s easier for you to keep your mind off him and focus on your current life.

So when you see him in the corner store in place of a small fried chicken stall you used to frequent, you’re visibly shocked, appalled even.

“What are you doing here?!” you jump back, “What happened to the fried chicken stall that was here?”

Osamu looks left and right, making sure no approaching customers can hear your dialogue.

“I run this stall now. Kawaneshi-san retired. It’s a great location. I’m literally in a crossroad between a shopping district and some schools. The rent isn’t too bad and it’s a very busy location.” he answers in his usual no nonsense tone.

You make a mental list not to pass by here again.

He recognizes the look on your face, “Have I just ruined your usual route for you?”

“I thought you were a country boy.” you avoid answering him.

“Even I need to make a living.” he snorts, carefully arranging umeboshi-flavored onigiri in his display case.

Sure! All of a sudden working in the city becomes important after he breaks up with you!

You roll your eyes and curtly walk away. You got here first. You love this city. You refuse to let some onigiri-making man ruin your everyday route.

The days roll into weeks. You stick to your route and diligently ignore Osamu each time. After a while it stops feeling weird that he’s there. You feel like you’re slowly taking pieces of yourself that he broke.

It feels so good to start to be whole again.

———————————— Your newfound peace with Osamu is interrupted when he calls you out of the blue one evening. He calls to tell you that he’s sick and that he needs help running groceries. The nerve!

“Don’t you have anyone else?” you groan. Hasn’t he made friends with some other shopkeepers?

“I have no one else. There’s only you.” he coughs through his words. He tries to explain that one of his few friends is out on bereavement.

You let it go. He clearly doesn’t have anyone for today.

You find out that Osamu lives in the apartment above his stall. The space is rather small. He shares his home with some of the equipment and supplies from his store.

He must hate it here. Osamu always loved wide open spaces.

You open the fridge to find it totally empty. His sink has a few empty bowls from his earlier rice porridges. You understand his desperation. He had nothing to eat.

Moved by his situation and the little compassion for him that remains in you, you sigh and begin chopping up some vegetables to make a nutritious broth. You add in some mushrooms and root crops. While the soup boils, you prepare rice and some pickles.

The faster he recovers, the less you have to interact with him.

When you bring him a tray of food in his room, he is equal parts surprised and confused.

“You can cook?” he clears his throat.

“No, Osamu.” you roll your eyes, “I eat all my food raw.”

He sits up and sniffs the aroma of your food through his clogged nose. He dips a spoon into the soup to sample his first meal of the day.

“I mean you can cook well, like a proper home cook.” he says, his eyes wide with awe. He quickly takes a few more sips and starts on his rice.

“I’ve never known.” he croaks, turning to you.

“You never asked,” you shrug, “And you like to do the cooking yourself. You probably assumed I can’t cook, because I’m not as passionate about food as you are.”

He quietly eats and looks away to confirm the truth in your statement.

You sigh and take a nearby basin with some towels in it. “I’ll leave after I bring the basin back.”

——————————————- Something changes in your relationship with Osamu after that incident. He starts to greet you when you walk by and sometimes offers you onigiri from his store.

You always insist on paying. He doesn’t always take it.

“You’re here to make a living.” you say as you push money into his hands.

In between these exchanges you start to ask about each other again. How are you doing? Was today busy? Stuff like that.

Slowly and surely, you two were rebuilding your relationship ground up. But it was tough. Neither of you went beyond these interactions. Maybe things are just meant to stay that way.

One late evening, the last customer for the day disappears out of Osamu’s line of sight when he heads into the back to start cleaning up. He’s about to start pulling down the rafters when you suddenly show up at his counter.

His face expresses his surprise.

“If it’s too late, I can just go.” you gesture sheepishly.

He’s always surprised when you come here on your own volition.

“It’s not,” he denies, “I was closing up too early anyways.”

You pick out your usual onigiri flavors and quickly pay up. As soon as you turn your back, Osamu stammers at you.

“I-I’m cooking up some stuff at the back. Do you want to stay and eat? Think of it as a return favor for the other week.” he refers to the episode of his sick day.

You’re caught off guard but you slowly nod your head to agree. You hadn’t had Osamu’s cooking in a while and it was getting quite late. He opens the door for you and you follow him towards the back of his shop.

In a messy plastic table, you see an array of salads and pickles with different kinds of miso soup laid out. You feel almost intrusive, even more than last week.

You set the table. Osamu fetches hot rice.

It feels unnecessary for you to be here especially if he is with someone else. You do your best to keep your mouth shut. This is a friendly return of favor.

Osamu notices how unusually quiet you are. He chats you up about work. He tries his best to be animated and show interest in your latest project. He asks about your coworkers and your work environment. Were you having fun? Do you get to eat on time?

For dessert, he brings out mochi wrapped in leaves.

“It’s made by the girl I was telling you about.” he remarks, while clearing the dishes.

“Oh,” your heart sinks. You get up and leave, feeling humiliated by your naivety. Of course he’s with her. You feel stupid for even hoping.

You’re about to walk out when he comes back in. “Apparently, she’s been secretly in a relationship with another chef in her family inn. They recently got married and are hoping to start a family soon. She sent these down to inform me. I suppose that solves the problem of having to see someone outside of work—”

He sees you standing. Confusion runs through his expression.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Just stretching…” you lie.

You want to shoot yourself in the foot in embarrassment.

When realization dawns on him, Osamu looks crestfallen. Any energy left in his body abandons him. He sighs, resigned.

“It’s ok if you want to go,” he nods, “Or if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

He bites his lip and looks down on his shoes. The room is still and pregnant with silence.

“I really am just stretching. My hip feels wonky from sitting all day.” you insist with some renewed energy. You grab hold of the pot on the table. “Also, can we get some more hot water? Tea would be nice with the mochi and it’s kind of gone cold.”

He offers to make another pot, relief evident on his face.

“I’ll go heat up the water.” he walks to the kettle, “Are you sure you want dessert?”

You sit back down.

“Yeah, I want to stay.” you murmur. For once you don’t go running to the door.

He glances at you, content, a small smile creeping on his face. ——————————————————

Atsumu, Osamu’s twin brother, always finds himself in his brother’s kitchen every time he visits. He doesn’t mind too much though. It gives them something to do when they catch up.

“Samu, you can’t still be moping around your ex!” Atsumu exclaims. He’s washing Osamu’s dishes as his brother prepares for their meal.

“I’m not ready to get back out there.” Osamu waves dismissively.

Atsumu flicks some water his way. “You’re just not open to seeing someone else.”

His words clearly prick Osamu who throws flour into his face. Atsumu dodges right on time and flicks some flour right back.

Some flour grazes Osamu’s sleeve. He sighs and dusts himself.

“It’s tough, because I’m working all the time. This job doesn’t pay too much and it’s not glamorous. Who’d wanna date someone like me?” he murmurs.

“That’s why you gotta date around to find out!” Atsumu emphasizes, “Maybe you’ll even find someone who might help you with your business when you get married.”

Osamu obstinately shakes his head. “It’s not as easy as you think.”

Atsumu dries his hand and carefully observes his brother. He puts his towel down onto the kitchen counter and raises his brow, “Or maybe I should just give you advice on getting back together.’

As if right on cue, Osamu slams his hand down onto the counter, “I hate that we still haven’t gotten back together. This is killing me!”

Atsumu chuckles in satisfaction. He’s hit the nail right on the head.

“Why has nothing happened yet? I’m already in the city!” Osamu continues on, “They can cook too! Did you know that?! I wish we can skip to the part where we can settle down.”

He vigorously gestures in frustration.

“I cannot! I just cannot move on until I know I’ve given everything to make this work and yet every time I see them all I do is offer them food!”

Atsumu places his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “You need to be more strategic about it. Here’s what you need to do…”

———————————————————————————

Osamu takes a deep breath before knocking at your door. He holds a bag of onigiri in one hand and whatever courage he has in another.

One knock, then another. He hasn’t been this nervous in a long while.

When you open the door, his ear picks up on a male voice inside your house. Combined with your expression, he realizes that he’s come at an inconvenient time.

“I brought you something.” he tries to smile despite the sweat pooling, “I made you lunch. I just wanted to make sure you were eating. We don’t have to talk. I just wanted to give this to you.”

He tries to look past your shoulder, attempting to glimpse at your guests.

“Are you seeing someone else by any chance?” he blurts out, “I want to clarify before I make any more free deliveries.”

You frown. “That’s none of your business, Osamu. You should leave.”

Your frankness pierces something within him. He hadn’t expected to be rejected so quickly.

Osamu’s eyes widen and his mouth drops. He quickly gathers himself before he gets disheartened.

“I want you to give me a second chance. You loved me so deeply. Maybe you can find love in me again.” he says quietly.

“I thought I was too much of a city girl for you,” you retort, despite lacking an edge in your voice. You notice his hands tightly clutching the plastic bag.

The noise at the back seems to melt away. It’s like you’re back in that party, standing too close to each other near the coat rack and the door.

“Maybe you’re not.” his shoulders gracefully go up and down.

You shook your head wryly, “Osamu, I haven’t changed. I like my job and the city. I’m not the life and business partner that you’re looking for. I’m just a customer and we should keep it that way.”

“I can stop if you like.” he offers meekly, putting his hands behind his back.

“Yeah, you should. You’ve hurt me so much.” you cover your mouth with your hands while you try not to sob, “There’s nothing to go back to.”

“I’m sorry I ended things the way I did.” he looks away, “Seeing you walk by me every day feels like penitence…“

You close the door before he says anymore.

Osamu gazes longingly at the door. It’s only now that the full weight of losing you sinks in.

—————————————— “How’d it go?” Atsumu calls to check on Osamu.

Osamu sucks in his breath, his palm pressed on his temple. Atsumu braces himself, this doesn’t sound good.

“They had someone else over.” Osamu is seething in frustration and angry tears.

“Calm down. Were they alone? Or was it a friend group?” Atsumu ’s mind races. He sifts through the situation in an attempt to placate his brother.

“Yeah? No? I don’t know.” Osamu snaps, “They told me she didn’t want to talk about it. Your advice sucks!”

Osamu walks most of the way home. When he catches sight of his store, he curses. He had left his damn bike at your apartment complex! The universe is not giving him any breaks today.

He sighs and continues towards his store. He had a friend watch it while he was away. He’ll have to come pick up after he closes the store.

Throughout the rest of the day, he tries to push you out of his mind. By the time he closes the store, he is bursting at the seams with anticipation to make his way back to your apartment.

Before he sets off, he sees your figure wheeling his bike towards him.

“You left your bike.” you breathe out. You fish something out of your pocket and toss him the key to his bike lock, “You left this in your lock too.”

“Every time you see me, I just look dumber and dumber.” he sighs in exasperation.

You can’t help but burst into laughter at his candidness. He perks up a bit. He hasn’t made you laugh in a while. Of course he’d rather have you laugh with him than at him. Still, this was a start right?

"Did Atsumu put you up to this?" you chuckle, handing the bike over.

“Yeah, how did you know?” he asks dumbfounded.

“I just do.” you scoff, “It’s not like you to show up on people’s doors.”

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry about that. It won’t happen again. It was a moment of weakness.”

Your eyes lower, framing the sad expression that sets into your face, “Yeah, it better not. I’ve moved on.”

You turn around to walk away. In a brief moment of courage, he cups his hands around his mouth.

“I’m not ready to move on from you and if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” he calls out.

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

Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! I’m definitely making a part 2!

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hmslusitania · 3 years

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48 and 98, 911 buddie

48. Fake Dating + 98. Curses

I didn’t mean for this to turn into another ficlet, but well. here we are so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

There’s cursed mistletoe hanging from the rafters of the 118′s loft.

To Bobby’s credit, Eddie is pretty sure that he didn’t know it was cursed when he bought it and hung it up. And why would he? Athena was right there with him, so the curse would’ve just...skipped him by.

Just like it did Maddie and Chimney when she showed up with Jee-Yun to say his before their Christmas Eve shift, and just like it did with Hen and Karen when Karen and Denny did the same.

Not Eddie, though.

No. No, Eddie is stuck.

“Eddie? What are you doing?” Bobby asks, coming into the loft with Buck at his heels and bags of groceries in both their hands. Christmas Eve dinner, in the works.

“I’d love to help you guys unpack the groceries, but I’m stuck,” Eddie says.

He hadn’t even meant to walk under the stupid cursed mistletoe, but he’d had to dodge McKinney who was going by with her turnouts and now. Well. Here he is.

Buck cocks his head sideways, confused. “Why are you stuck?”

“Mistletoe’s cursed,” Eddie says, pointing up at it. He can move his arms, he can talk and breathe, but he cannot remove himself from under the mistletoe.

Not until he’s kissed by his partner, which would be handy if he wasn’t, y’know, extremely single.

“It’s not cursed, it’s charmed!” Bobby says.

“Yeah? And what about for all the single people on your shift, Cap?” Buck asks. “Pretty sure for people like me, that counts as a curse.”

Bobby flounders for an answer for a second, and comes up blank. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I got caught up in the spirit of things. Eddie, do you need us to call Ana?”

“Not gonna help,” Eddie says. This isn’t how he wanted to drop this particular news. “We broke up.”

“Oh,” Bobby says and Eddie waits for his inevitable sorry to hear that, since Bobby had been the one to tell him to move on in the first place. But it...doesn’t come.

Which is...a thing.

“Cap, do you remember the specifics on this thing?” Buck asks, nodding up at the mistletoe.

“Kissed by your partner,” Bobby says. “I remember because the witch working at the garden shop was very insistent on it being gender-neutral and all-inclusive.”

“Except of single people,” Eddie grumbles.

Bobby flushes a little. “I’ll call the garden shop.”

“Wait, I might have an idea,” Buck says. “That would be faster, anyway.”

“Literally anything is welcome right now, I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes,” Eddie says.

“We’re work partners, right?” Buck says. “Maybe we can, like, rules-lawyer the charm?”

Eddie chews on the inside of his lip. Of all the idiotic ways to end up kissing Buck for the -- hopefully -- first time.

“Worth a shot,” Eddie says and is a little concerned that Buck may be able to hear his heart skipping along a little too fast in his chest.

“I’m gonna call the garden shop, too,” Bobby says while Buck takes a step closer to Eddie.

“Why?” Buck asks.

“Because if this doesn’t work, you’re both gonna be stuck under there,” Bobby says.

While he dials the phone, Buck takes another step and is under the mistletoe beside Eddie. Eddie isn’t what one might call “extremely perceptive to magic” but he can feel the curse grab hold of Buck, too. Keeping him in place, until kissed by his partner.

“Here goes nothing,” Buck says. With a gentleness belied by his work-roughened, giant hands, he holds Eddie’s face still and leans in to kiss him.

Eddie is pretty sure the curse breaks the exact second Buck’s lips touch his, but he can’t find it in himself to care. And Buck’s always been much more sensitive to magic than he has, and surely felt the curse dissolve, but Buck doesn’t stop kissing him either.

Eddie slides his hands around Buck’s waist and pulls him in closer, pressing them together as best he can. Buck stumbles a little when Eddie tugs on him and breaks the kiss. He doesn’t go far, just rests his forehead against Eddie’s.

“You broke up with Ana?” Buck asks. “When?”

And there’s no way to answer that that doesn’t force him to tell on himself, but they’ve just been making out in the middle of the loft, so at this point, it’s sort of whatever.

“Um, when you broke up with Taylor?” Eddie says.

“That was over a month ago,” Buck says.

Eddie grimaces but nods.

“Can I kiss you again?” Buck asks.

Eddie starts to say “Yes, please, and then don’t stop” but Bobby clears his throat.

“Maybe after your shift and never again in the station?” Bobby says.

Buck and Eddie let go of each other and spring apart -- free of the mistletoe -- straightening bunched patches in their uniforms and drying their mouths.

“Yep, sorry, Cap, won’t happen again,” Buck says. “I will get started on those groceries!”

He winks at Eddie before he dodges around Bobby to the kitchen and Eddie watches him go, letting himself openly appreciate the long lines of Buck’s form, just for a second.

And then Bobby clears his throat and Eddie snaps back to face his captain.

Fortunately, there’s no reprimand on his face. Instead, Bobby looks fond and even, possibly, endeared.

“Sorry about that, Cap,” Eddie says.

Bobby shrugs as if to say “no harm done.”

“I did warn you that you might miss something right in front of your face,” Bobby says.

Eddie glances over at Buck, who’s pulling a bunch of carrots out of one of the grocery bags. He pauses to give Eddie one of his brightest smiles. Reflexively, Eddie smiles back. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Bobby shaking his head with that same fond and endeared expression on.

“Not in the station,” he reiterates, and then he claps Eddie on the shoulder and goes to help Buck with the groceries.

There are Other mashups

#the ghost ship scribbles #9-1-1 #buddie #9-1-1 fic #buddie fic

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hoe-imaginess · 3 years

Text

cornered | dabi

dabi x reader

requested prompt: Villain F! Reader got secret information about the League, but is cornered by Dabi who is deciding what to do with her

word count: 2.2k

a/n: this honestly just turned into a little chase scene... hope it’s alright

⤰⤰⤰

You were teeming with triumph as you hurried down the alleyway.

Part of you knew that you were cruising on a premature celebration; you’d succeeded in your furtive plot, and taken the information you needed from the League. But obtainment was one thing—now came escape.

The benefactor of your risky mission required that you deliver the information to a warehouse near the old side of the city, the same place you’d made the deal in the first place. So there you went, almost as soon as the deed was done. You’d taken a sonorous route as a precaution, just in case you had any pursuers. But now, satisfied that you had no tail, and that you were mere moments away from collecting your due pay, you made haste to your destination.

The warehouse was empty and darkened, no lights giving illumination inside or out. You thought that was inconvenient at most, but not necessarily suspicious. Therein lay your mistake.

You pushed inside the warehouse and waited to be greeted. No one came.

Increasingly antsy, you moved around the gloomy interior as carefully as possible. You thought better of finding the lights and switching them on, so you continued your tepid investigation in the darkness, if only to idle while you awaited your patron.

Halfway into your search, you decided against testing your own patience, and pulled out your burner phone. Almost in the same instant that you dialed the confidential number, an offensive smell invaded your space. That, too, you found inconvenient, and nothing more. It was an old warehouse, you reminded yourself, as you put the phone to your ear. Nothing odd about a rank odor.

You heard the phone ringing through the speaker, and then, you heard the ringing in the warehouse.

Puzzled, you moved the phone from your ear and listened closely. Yes, there was a simple ringtone resounding through the place, and yes, it had to be your benefactor.

Still, the line continued to ring, and ring; the tone in the warehouse sounded in tandem. It was clear to you that you would be receiving no answer. And it was then that suspicious took its root.

You followed the ringtone in the dark, until you could see its faint glow yards away. By then, the horrid smell had turned almost intolerable, but also decipherable: like the stench of overcooked pork, stinging your nostrils with every inhale.

You envisioned a dozen nasty sources for the stench, some imaginatively morbid, but the scene you found upon following the ringing overwhelmed you.

A burnt corpse lay strewn on the floor. The scant moonlight coming in from the warehouse rafters gave poor illumination to the scene, but you could see quite clearly the blackened body, its form mangled by fire—a fire that hadn’t smoldered very long ago, if the heat coming off the body was any indication.

Beside the body lay the cell phone. It gave its last ring as your call went unaccepted, then the screen’s light gave out.

Your benefactor was dead. That much was certain. The rest was a mystery that buzzed in your head, quickly gaining into panic as you realized the demise that had befell the now-corpse was likely one you were meant to share. Why else would the man have been killed this way? Why here? And by whom?

The question was quickly answered.

“You must’ve taken the long route to get here,” a voice came in the darkness. “I’ve been waiting a while.”

You spun toward the sound, and took a step backward the moment you spotted a figure leering beyond the burnt body.

“Who are you?” you asked, unwilling to play the part of the victim, not when this assailant clearly had lethal purpose.

“Naive of you not to expect this, ya know,” he muttered, and moved out of the shadows.

You were just short of thinking that his voice sounded familiar, when he came into full view of the moonlight to reveal himself.

Dabi.

With hands in his pockets, and a joyless smile on his face, he carried the aura of a man who had all circumstance on his side. And you knew very well that he did.

“I figured if you were dumb enough to double cross us, that you’d also be dumb enough not to cover your tracks.” His foot tapped the forgotten phone on the ground, the one which had belonged to your late benefactor. “Eavesdropping on calls is easy enough, if you have tech savvy acquaintances.”

You tried to remember the League associates you’d met, and what their quirks had been. You couldn’t recall any with the capability to exploit your schemes, but that certainly didn’t mean you hadn’t been ignorant to assume you’d get away with this betrayal so easily. Apparently, you’d underestimated Dabi’s mistrust in you.

“As for whatever information on us you’re willing to sell,” he began, “I’ll be needing that back.”

You stood tall, proud to stand your ground, even as your hands started to fidget anxiously.

“Did Shigaraki send you?” you asked.

“He doesn’t know I’m here. But I’ll tell him the gist of it later, after I handle it. I’m curious. What exactly do you have on us?”

“Nothing,” you declared calmly, and without a haste of defense. “I have nothing on you.”

“Yeah?”

He kicked the burnt body with the cap of his boot. A piece of the crisped limb crumbled under the minimal force, and scattered along the concrete like debris.

“Is that what you were comin’ to sell to this guy?” he asked. “Nothing?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing the evidence and ambience were stacked against you. But you weren’t about to be cowed. You met his stare, matching his menace with defiance.

With the gravity of this situation quickly rising, you felt the warm brush of your quirk ready itself, prepared to defend in whatever way possible. You’d seen enough of Dabi’s power—and worse, his cruelty—to know that the dreadful anticipation you felt was fully justified.

“Bet you thought you were good at this sneaking around stuff, huh?” He took a step toward you; you stepped back. “I’ve been suspicious for a while, but honestly, I was more curious to see what you’d do, and how you’d do it.”

Now he was walking around the burnt body, forcing you to circle in the opposite direction.

You decided to drop any pretenses, lacking as they’d been in the first place.

“How long have you known?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve got an eye for this sort of stuff. And lately, it’s been on you.”

The threat behind his words suddenly made you hyperaware of the corpse between you two, of the putrid smell steaming off of it. Morbid fantasies seized you, and you realized you might soon be joining the heap of ash at your feet.

“So, I’ll ask again. What is it that you have? And what did this guy want with it?”

“I thought you were well-informed,” you returned, risking his patience, buying yourself some time.

He gave a gruesome, humored smile. It was a grisly contrast to his lifeless, torched victim below.

“I guess it doesn’t matter what you have on us,” he finally said.

The debased smile on his face remained, but there was a threatening descent in his demeanor, a pointed narrowing of his eyes that put a shiver down your spine.

“No one’s ever gonna get it, anyways. I’ll make sure of that.”

In the instant that his flames illuminated the gloom with their cyan, you turned on your heels and dashed into the darkness.

You didn’t know how spry Dabi was, or how easily he could catch up to you. But with what his long-range firepower could make up for, you doubted it mattered.

With most of the structures in the warehouse silhouetted against the dainty moonlight, traversing the interior in haste was nearly impossible. Even as you ran, you could still smell the cooked flesh, following you and dizzying your senses.

You couldn’t pinpoint the entrance, nor an exit. It left you stumbling practically blind through the poorly lit building, and you were thankful once you floundered upon a wall. You stumbled along, fingertips moving across the brick to guide you.

Somewhere behind you, Dabi was on the move. Now he spoke, his voice low and reverberating in the darkness.

“You’re startin’ to piss me off,” he called after you. “This’ll be a lot easier if you stop running.”

It occurred to you that he might want you alive, so that he could drag you back to Shigaraki Tomura, and face punishment at his hands—literally. That put heat into your steps, and you stumbled along that much faster in the darkness, hoping against hope that some source of escape might present itself.

The footsteps were behind you again, and quickly gaining. You moved carefully over junk strewn on the floor, and found yourself near a door. You twisted the knob, breathed out a quick sigh of relief to find it unlocked, and slipped inside.

You found yourself in a spacious room, an office of some sort. The first thing you noticed was the window across the room, throwing moonlight through its pane and brightening the dusty interior. You went to it quickly, and tried to wedge fingers underneath the frame and haul it open, to no avail.

“Come on girl, don’t make this hard,” Dabi called into the room. He was just beyond the door.

You bit your lip to keep a groan of frustration down, and hid in the corner of the room. As you did so, the door creaked open. You heard his boots crunching over the wooden threshold. Then the sound of the creaking door moving again. It closed, and clicked. He’d locked you both inside.

Then came silence.

You waited for him to speak, but nothing came. You peered out from your hiding spot, searching for him in the darkness. You saw only a faint outline of his form, the scant moonlight catching off the leather of his outfit.

“If I have to light this place up with you in it, that’s fine,” his voice echoed in the dark. Then came his punctuated, languid footsteps somewhere in the room. “But it’d be easier if you’re alive. I still have some questions for you.”

The thought of enduring what would probably be a horribly sadistic interrogation made your skin crawl. He wasn’t just here to catch you in your trespasses, but to squeeze information out of you, too.

Dabi moved across the room, searching for you. You couldn’t see him now, his silhouette hidden by stacked boxes and other clutter in the darkness. There was a side door that led to the outside, you knew. And you knew it had to be on this side of the building. You’d clocked it in your previous visits to the warehouse as an escape route in case of an emergency. This more than qualified.

But the dark gloom was so profound that locating the door was nearly impossible. This room was denied even a sliver of the moonlight.

At the least, Dabi was apparently as lost as you were. That, or he was taking his grueling time in his approach—which sounded much more fitting, especially knowing his fire might do him well if he needed to illuminate the room somehow. But clearly, he was toying with you. At least for now.

Just then, his footsteps stopped somewhere in the darkness. You waited, and waited some more. You wondered if he was expecting you to make a move, to expose yourself by sound. But you refused; the gloom was your ally, and you would utilize it in full.

But just as you thought you were safe behind the boxes, one of the shadows in the corner forsook its concealment, and he appeared.

Then, as you tried to flee, he slipped over to block your path. “I don’t think so,” said his shadow.

His cruel confidence gave his silhouette the appearance of something taller, something more menacing. The burnt odor returned in full force, and you realized it must have been radiating off his corrugated skin.

An instant later, you felt the wave of fire, and shrieked as the flames fed through the fabric of your shirt, singing delicate skin.

You dove for the floor, and rolled onto your back to extinguish the flames. But the damage was done, and as you backed yourself against the wall, your skin seared with fresh pain.

He stopped in front of you, leering down. His attack had merely been one of intimidation; he’d purposely grazed you, but the surrounding wooden boxes gladly kindled his fire, and quickly caught ablaze.

The flames rising around the room threw a sheen of blue over his expression: rigid and lacking mercy. You wondered if your schemes, your complicity in this act of betrayal, was worth whatever was to come next.

Your throat was tight. The dry, hot air choked you. But all you could do was glare up at him in a desperate show of defiance.

"You’re gonna regret ever thinking you could get away with this," Dabi said with a smile.

Indeed, you were thinking that very thing, when he reached for you.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader

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