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jjkyaoi · 3 years

Text

this at first wasn’t just going to be a ramble about wilbur & tommys canon relationship but then it just turned into that & then a fuckton of analysis so like take these i guess;

back in the old l’manberg days, they had like a mentor / protege relationship, but also they had the fucking classic dynamic of “little brother & older brother”. it was clear that even back then c!tommy looked up to c!wilbur a lot and was always trying to do more for the country; the conversation they had about wilbur thinking he wasn’t really in l’manberg for the country & more for a place to stay? tommy was desperate to prove that l’manberg wasn’t a temporary home for him, that he’d do anything for l’manberg, because wilbur loved it so much—because he wanted to make wilbur proud. everything he’d done back then was both to make wilbur proud & was to make sure that l’manberg was safe; he was bending his back for that fucking country just so wilbur would see it and consider him a worthy right hand man/a worthy vice. and wilbur was proud of him, we’d learn, when ghostbur told tommy in exile that he’d been proud of him when he’d given up his disks; something that tommy had strived for but now in exile wasn’t even sure he wanted anymore.

it’s clear that tommy was willing to walk to the ends of the earth for wilbur, even from the beginning, and he’s always viewed him through rose tinted glasses. tommys always had a problem w/ idolizing people way too much, and i think wilbur’s one of those people where the idolization did play a part of how he felt about him, because the person he idolized & loved and viewed as his hero turned into this person who wasn’t,,,,.. that.

also, tommy’s so used to being under wilburs guidance: he’s always used to wilbur putting a hand on his shoulder and telling him what he’s doing wrong, or how he could improve, or helping him, that he’d became dependent on it. he eventually was blinded by everything else & didn’t see wilburs slow descent in the beginning of the elections and continued to follow him blindly because wilbur was once again, his hero; somebody who he loved and cared for so much that he didn’t want to think anything bad about—didn’t want to see the bad things, because once again he had rose tinted glasses.

though, in the pogtopia arc he was forced to see that bad—forced to see the things that were piling up that he didn’t even notice. he was forced to watch his brother, this hero and man he thought was undefeatable; the man he’d saw go up against things with his head held high and almost indestructible, finally, finally crumble and become this shell of a man who wanted vengeance—who wanted nothing but destruction just for his symphony. of course, he didn’t want to believe wilburs spiral would be the end of his brother; he wanted to believe that he still had his wilbur in there somewhere, still held out hope that he’d come back so he let him push him around and yet still—and yet still followed him because he’s always had blind hope for his wilby. he was willing to help him, he was willing to help him grow & rebuild l’manberg with him if it just mean that he got his wilbur back, but in the end everything he’d thought he’d done—him thinking he’d finally gotten through to wilbur was a lie, and he had to watch his nation get destroyed and his brother not long thereafter.

honestly, i’ll always think that tommy was dealing w/ a lot of grief in the beginning days of new l’manberg. he wasn’t there often, he didn’t interact much w/ people, & he was probably still reeling from everything that’d happened, rightfully; so he just wanted to move on. he just wanted to forget everything that’d happened and remember the good times—focus on the good times so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge that wilbur was gone, that wilbur had hurt him, and that he wouldn’t ever be getting him back. he wanted to have fun for once, so he’d burnt down george’s house and got exiled for it.

after he’d been exiled he’d sort of had a long time to sit & think—to really process everything for the first time, and that’s when his view on wilbur really started to become skewed. he didn’t want to admit, still, that his wilbur—that his hero could do all the things he’d done, but he was also slowly beginning to take off the false view of the man and see him truly, and that scared him. that scared him so he turned to ghostbur, desperate for some proof that wilbur was a good man; that he wasn’t bad, that he wasn’t evil, that he wasn’t any of these things so he wouldn’t have to worry about it, but he didn’t get any closure from ghostbur because ghostbur couldn’t remember, so he was just left wondering.

and, when he was seeing phil trying to resurrect wilbur, he was panicked. he was panicked because he didn’t know if he wanted wilbur back yet; he didn’t know if he was ready, he didn’t know if he wanted to see him—but he did, didn’t he?—because everything he’d done was still very, very conflicted in his mind; he still didn’t know what he was supposed to think about the man, and now that him being resurrected was a possibility he freaked out because he just wasn’t ready to confront the fact that his wilbur and the one he’d turned into were the same person, & seeing wilburs death reanacted with ghostbur? with the one person who was the embodiment of the good memories w/ wilbur, the wilbur he wanted? it made him realize even more that he didn’t want any other version of the wilbur that wasn’t the good one, and he fleed.

though, now they have dream. now they have dream who can resurrect people. when dream told tommy this he got a little hopeful look on his face; his breath stuttered & his eyes widened at the possibility that he’d finally get wilbur back, he’d finally be able to see him again and he wouldn’t be so alone, but when he was confronted w/ wilbur and it wasn’t exactly the one he wanted—it still had hints of the man he turned into instead of his wilby? he was uncomfortable. he was breathing a little heavily and looked nervous; he doesn’t want to be around that wilbur, and interacting w/ him just reminded him of how scared he’s been all along. he wants wilbur back, he does, he really, really does; but he’s scared of the possibility of wilbur returning as that man who took everything from him and he’ll have to face him once again. he doesn’t want that. he’s stuck in the past w/ wilbur.

(this deadass just turned into an essay about how i feel c!tommy’s dealing w/ his grief WHOOPS WHWVAJAHv)

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midgardianweasley · 3 years

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I‘d love to see you write an angsty fanfic with Natasha x reader (male or female is up to you) with a bad ending of your choice.

No pressure of course ✨

as requested Violet!! I hope it's okay<3

How could you do this to me?

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha hasn’t been around recently and Y/N’s been really missing her company, but that changes when some CCTV footage is discovered.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

there was an attempted proof read, but sorry in advance if i've missed anything!!

message/ask to be added to the taglist<3

Requests are open!

You weren’t surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again, the space beside you missing a red-head assassin. You’d grown used to the sight of bedsheets spread lazily on your side of the bed, almost completely thrown off of the edge. It wasn’t unusual, however, the feeling of disappointment that lingered in your chest every morning never eased with time.

‘I’m just off to train, baby.’

‘I need to go and see Fury about this next mission, you go back to sleep’

‘I forgot to debrief the team last night, so we need to have a meeting this morning instead.’

‘Off to get some breakfast, my love. I’ll save you some eggs.’

Those were the typical reasons you received whenever you questioned where she was going in such a hurry in the mornings. You knew she was busy, of course you did. But, you missed the mornings when she’d pull you back into her chest, refusing to let you leave until you gave her a few kisses, which never ended up just being kisses, but you always gave in either way.

Now that you think of it, you can’t remember the last time she held you. Not properly. She used to hold you in a death grip, so tight that you could almost feel her heartbeat in your own chest. Nowadays, you were lucky to get more than a few taps on the back, it felt like you were being congratulated for something.

You’d always brushed it off, thinking that you must’ve been selfish for wanting so much of her attention, you had to be more understanding of how demanding her job is. It wasn’t like you never tried, you did, everyday. It would just be nice to feel her love for you a little more, even if it was just a quick peck before she left in the mornings.

“Hey Wan’, Hey Vis” You smiled at the pair as they stood at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs and buttering some toast. They loved cooking together, Wanda always told you how cute it was when Vision was trying to learn, especially after his fiasco with the Paprika.

“Hi Y/N, want something to eat?” Wanda handed you some toast, which you took gratefully, slowly munching on it.

Vision looked up as though to engage in conversation, when he then looked around in confusion. “Where’s Ms. Romanoff?”. You shrugged.

“I’m not sure, I think she’s training, I’ve not heard from her yet.”

You were looking at Vision, but it was near impossible to miss the sympathetic look Wanda was giving you. She knew about how you’d been feeling with Natasha not being around so much, she had tried to help, to hint to Nat that you’d been feeling a bit neglected for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten very far.

“Nat, nat, I just think that maybe you should spend a little more time with Y/N” It was obvious the assassin wasn’t listening to her, shrugging it off and trying to walk past the witch, only to have a hand pressed on her chest to push her backwards.

“Wanda, I need to go, I'm running late.”

“you’re always running somewhere. I'm sure Fury, or Tony or whoever you’re in such a rush to see, can wait. You haven’t seen your girlfriend in forever.”

“I saw her last night.”

“Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping next to her, isn’t seeing her, Nat.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her friend turn around and walk the other way. She could’ve used her powers to stop her, she didn’t see a point though. She wasn’t listening, and she couldn’t force her to.

“It's fine though, honestly! I can hang out with you guys today if you’re not busy?”

the couple shared a look of awkwardness before looking back towards you.

“Actually, we were going to go into town and do some sightseeing. You’re welcome to join us though!” She smiled, not wanting you to be alone, which you were grateful for, but you couldn’t intrude.

“No no, don’t worry! I think I've got something Tony wanted me to check out in the Lab, now that I think about it.” You didn’t. “You guys have fun though! take pictures!” You winked, knowing full well that your best friend didn’t believe you, she hesitated before nodding her head in agreement and beginning to walk off with Vision in tow.

__________________

An hour or so went by, you still hadn’t seen Natasha at all, or anyone, really. They all seemed to have disappeared to do their own thing, leaving you to find yours. So, you found yourself wandering into your lab, where you found Tony observing the screens with an endless amount of data changing every couple of seconds. You never really understood how he made sense of it all so quickly, but you’d always been intrigued nonetheless.

He must’ve sensed someone was there, as he broke away from his train of thought and glanced over towards you, fully acknowledging how your shoulders were slumped and your eyes lacked your usual sparkle. Tony alway had a soft spot for you, he’d known you for years, taking on a role similar to a father’s. Seeing you look so defeated recently, it’d hurt him a little more than he cared to admit.

Gesturing for you to come in with a gentle smile before moving and adjusting various chunks of metal on the table in the centre of the lab.

“Ah ah!” He tapped the bridge of his nose

“You can’t be serious! Tony I-”

“Nope”

“I’m a grown woman!” You laughed in disbelief at his

“Yes, you are, and I do not plan on taking said grown woman to medical because she got a shot of electricity through her eyeball. Put them on.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a pair of the obnoxiously large lab goggles and put them over your face. He really took being a ‘father figure’ too seriously sometimes. With your goggles on, you took yourself over to where he stood, hoping to help him out somehow and keep yourself occupied.

You watched him move around blueprints on the screen above. “So, whatcha working on?”

“Well, remember that last mission we went on? How that ended?”

“Well, considering I had to get bullets removed for the last two hours, I’d say I remember pretty well.”

His face cringed slightly “Yeah, that’s the one. I’m basically just trying to layer the suits more, but keep the weight to a minimum so that there’s more protection, but the speed and mobility is almost, if not, the same.” He pondered, mind wandering off again to try and figure out how he could make this work.

Suddenly springing to action, he started assembling some pieces together, chucking some aside and reaching for different tools he required.

Looking towards you, he tilted his head “Can you pass me the-”

His sentence was interrupted. “Hey Tony, hey-” Banner. You didn’t mind Bruce, he was always quite quiet and polite most of the time, a little awkward, but, when you have a literal Hulk inside of you, it’s probably the least of your concerns.

You waved at the Avenger. “Hi Bruce” You gave him a friendly smile, for it to be returned with an awkward gaze, which he tried to quickly shove off.

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N. W-what brings you here?”

“Oh, no particular reason, I wanted something to do so I thought I'd come down, just pay a visit.” He nodded, acknowledging your words but appearing a little on edge, almost.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked “You look a little pale?”

“Yeah, yeah n-no I'm fine, just a-a bit tired.” He stuttered before suddenly directing his attention towards the man standing beside you. “How’s it coming along, Ton’?”

“Not bad, I have a wonderful assistant to help me out.” he nudged you playfully.

“Haha, yeah. She’s great. Anyways, you seem to have a good hold on things, so, I’ll leave you to it and come back later.”

Neither of you had managed to get a word out before Banner had walked out and was already out of sight. You turned to face Tony again.

“Was that- did you find that weird at all?”

“I find most of the people in this compound weird.”

It was a serious question, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the millionaire’s response.

“I do pride myself on it.”

“As you should. You’re the weirdest one.”

“Hey!” You slapped his arm. “Rude!”

“I’m kidding! Now, pass me that screwdriver, goggles.”

Chuckling, you threw him the screwdriver and zoned out thinking about Bruce’s weird behaviour. While Tony was right, the majority of us are weird. You couldn’t stop thinking about how unusual it was, even for him. You put it to the back of your mind though, focusing back on what the man beside you was working on. You’re sure it’s fine.

________________________

You thought you were going crazy. First you had Nat, who was disappearing every chance she got, Then you had Bruce who couldn’t look you in the eye and when you finally believed it couldn’t get any weirder, you picked up on some strange vibes from Steve.

“Oh finally! I was beginning to think no one else actually lives here.” You approached Steve who seemed to be walking and talking with Bruce, both taking a step back when they looked towards you.

“Hey Y/N, we were just-”

“We were just about to go and have a shower. Training.” Steve cut in, earning himself a glare and a shake of the head from the scientist beside him, subtle, so you hadn’t noticed, otherwise you would’ve questioned it.

“Oh? You were training too, Bruce?”

“Well, I-” He glanced at Steve. “Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, wanted to get some combat down, just in case I needed it.”

“Considering our last mission, I think we all should.” the super soldier quickly added, sending you an enthusiastic smile, which you had returned. You went to speak again, possibly inquiring as to whether or not they knew where your girlfriend was, but you hadn't had the chance as the pair of them quickly rushed off, muttering something about catching you later, leaving you on your own, once again.

What the hell was going on?

_____________________

Feeling defeated, you trudged your way into your bedroom, just wanting to shower, get into bed and sleep, and hope for some form of normality.

What you hadn’t expected, was to walk in and see the back of a familiar figure sporting the black suit she practically lived in, tying her hair into a low bun and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes.

You were dating, so it wasn’t new to see Nat changing, but you still thought it would be decent to make her aware of your presence. The small “ahem” was enough to make her spin round and flash you a smile, her pearly white teeth on show.

“Hi babe, i’m just changing for bed. You okay?”

The words felt so unfamiliar to you, having not heard them in what felt like forever. Still, you decided to humour it.

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. A bit of a weird day is all.”

She laughed, returning to laying out her clothes. “Well, we are surrounded by some weird people.”

“That’s what Tony said.”

There was an atmosphere in the air that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had always felt comfortable with Natasha, you would describe her company as being like a safety blanket, enveloping you with warmth and a sense of security. This felt different. It didn’t feel familiar anymore, it was like you were face to face with a stranger and the more you looked at her, the more it upset you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha put her palms on your cheeks, bringing your Y/E/C eyes to meet her emerald ones in the process. You hadn’t realised that tears had fallen until the pad of her thumbs gently brushed them away.

“I just, it sounds so stupid.”

“Tell me.”

You let out a sigh, eyes beginning to dart around the room. “It just feels like I’ve never seen you, I don’t remember the last time we’ve spoken and it’s, it’s been lonely.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your response, lips falling into a frown, but you were quick to speak again.

“It hasn’t just been you though, I understand that work gets in the way, but, it felt like some members of the team were acting differently around me.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, I mean, Bruce could barely bring himself to say anything more than a sentence to me and I tried to speak to Steve just before I came here and he rushed off like his life depended on it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit paranoid.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Detka, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She whispered, hands pulling you forward with ease to bring your lips together. You smiled at the contact, you’d missed it.

You were so caught up in it, that you hadn’t noticed you were the only one smiling.

It wasn’t long before the both of you were interrupted by an electronic voice in the room.

“Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N.” It was F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Mr Stark is asking for you both in the conference room.”

“Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’re on our way.” Your girlfriend replied, rushing away from the kiss and leading you to the door.

Why was everyone in such a rush today?

_______________________

“So, I was messing around with some things in the lab, and I think I've found a solution to our suit issue. It’s still a work in progress because I'll need to tweak some things and then tailor them blah blah blah, but I thought I'd show you guys the latest. JARVIS?”

“Bringing up footage 182.”

While you waited for the video to be up and running, you took note of everyone sitting around you. For the most part, they looked tired, though you don’t blame them, it was pretty late.

Shuffling to your left, you held Natasha’s hand in yours, sending her a loving gaze before resting your head on her shoulder, just content that she was close by. She sat a little straighter at the action, careful not to push you off of her, but not entirely relaxing either.

The large tv screen lit up, a view from the corner of the lab came into sight where you could see Tony installing different wires and pieces of loose metal into the suit, watching it light up as he did so. He was in the middle of explaining what he was doing as the recording went on, when the screen suddenly turned to static, black and white lines taking over the screen.

“JARVIS?”

“Minor technical issue, working on it, Mr Stark.”

You caught Wanda’s eye across the table, a playful smirk plastered onto her face at the mishap, watching the billionaire get stressed over a television. You couldn’t help but laugh at the words flying from his mouth as he started hitting the remote, as if he was someone who didn’t understand technology.

It wasn’t long before an image appeared back on the screen, however, this wasn’t the same recording. This is from the gym. It focused on one of the square mats in the middle of the room where two people were sparring. One of which, you immediately recognised as Natasha.

The other person definitely wasn’t a girl, their hair was short and muscles so big you were worried that one slice would be the end. It zoomed in a little, and from the blonde hair and dark blue outfit, you pieced together who it was.

“Oooh, Black Widow and the SuperSoldier, one vs one. Now this should be interesting.” A previously tired looking Sam clapped his hands and leaned forward, now fully invested in the scene in front of him.

You turned to Nat, who now looked a little paler than she did before.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, don’t tell me, you lost this spar?” You joked, expecting her to join in and tease you back. Instead, her face displayed an emotion you weren’t entirely sure of.

Before you could question it, you noticed the room fall silent. Not even a breath could be heard in the room. Your head turned slowly, meeting a mixture of shocked and sympathetic faces. And that was when you saw it.

Nat had kissed Steve, and he didn’t stop her.

If you weren't aware of your heartbeat before, you couldn’t be now, for it felt like it had completely stopped. Your jaw fell as your eyes filled with tears, only worsening the longer you saw the two of them on the screen. It was only turned off when a third person walked into view, not needing to ponder on who it could be, you immediately faced guilty stares. Three of them.

“You- you kissed-” You stuttered, incapable of forming a sentence towards your teammate. “And, you knew?” Your voice broke, tears now beginning to find their way down your cheeks for the second time as Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer you.

You swiftly rose out of your seat, attempting to keep yourself composed until you could be alone.

“Baby-” Natasha murmured, trying to take hold of your hand, which you snatched back before she could lay a finger on it.

“Don’t.”

“Please-”

“Leave me alone.” You spat, speed walking out of what now felt like an overcrowded room.

You didn’t hear it, you’d left too early, but if you had stayed, you would’ve heard the team give Nat and Steve the scolding of their lives, mainly from Wanda and Tony, telling them how disappointed they were in them both. How they’d be lucky if you were to forgive them for what they did.

________________________

You don’t know how long you’d been sitting on your shared bed for. It could’ve been an hour, it could’ve been a couple of minutes. All you knew, was that you couldn’t stay in this room much longer, looking at the picture frames and the shared wardrobe, it just felt painful.

So, you walked over to your wardrobe and gathered every item of your clothing into your arms, lacking any care for if there were hangers or labels in the way, and chucked them on the bed and started to chuck it all into a suitcase intended for holidays but, you don’t see that happening anytime soon.

The sound of sniffles and rustling was all you could hear in the room, so much so that it was suffocating, and it didn’t help when you heard the door creak open.

“What are you doing?” A voice squeaked. Natasha stood beside the door, fidgeting with her fingers as she anxiously bounced from one foot to the other. You didn’t even bother to look up in her direction, focusing solely on getting out of there as soon as you could.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it.” You scoffed at her attempt at an explanation. “I love you.”

That’s what made you whip your head to see her red and puffy eyes, if this was any other situation, you would’ve rushed over and engulfed her in a hug, tell her that everything would be okay and you’re there for her. Now? All you felt was anger.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed him.”

“I didn’t know-”

You stood up straight, almost laughing at her choice of words. “You didn’t know? Bullshit. I’m pretty fucking sure everyone is aware when they kiss someone. Did you know when you were kissing me then? Or did you not know that either?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I don’t think I care.”

She tries to step closer to you, only for you to take one back, holding your hand out, indicating for her to stop.

“No. no, you know what Nat, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like a stranger for weeks, like I'm sharing a bed with someone I don’t know, for you to then kiss someone else and expect me to forgive you. You have no idea how I've felt these past weeks, blaming myself and thinking I was selfish for wanting your time. It’s funny, really.”

She looked away from you, regret taking over her features, both of you now having tear stains covering your rosy red cheeks.

You broke the silence once again. “Was that the first time?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Y/N-” She pleaded

“Answer the question, Natasha.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence returned to the four walls.

“Get out.”

“No, no, we-” She stepped forward, only to halt herself when she realised what she was doing.

“There is no ‘we’. We’re done. I’ll have my stuff moved back into my room by tonight, though I'm sure it won’t make much of a difference to you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Whatever.”

She walked out of the room, hesitating slightly, wondering if it’s worth staying and trying to figure out whatever this is. She shook her head to herself, knowing she’d fucked up. There wasn’t a fight anymore. It was done.

Collapsing on the bed, the feeling washed over you again as the finality of it all set in. You didn’t stop though. You packed your clothes, your perfumes, all of your loose hair ties and left the room with only one thought on your mind.

Natasha won’t even notice the difference.

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glorious-kt · 4 years

Text

The Case of the Cybernetic Arm

Joining up with the Bad Batch was either his stupidest idea or his best idea. Echo was still debating on it to be honest. Hunter treated him with respect, but... he also treated him differently than the others. Tech treated him normally, always asking him questions and trying to get his help with his new hacking gear. However, Tech... didn’t seem to trust him much. Crosshair treated him with disdain, full of sarcasm and blunt whit. Sometimes Echo could fire back with his own silver tongue, but... there were instances where Crosshair’s words hit a little too close to home. He was an outsider. A “reg”. To those three at least. Wrecker... Wrecker treated him with kindness, happy to have a new friend to nag and to challenge.

Echo wasn’t sure what he could do to earn the other three’s trust and clear respect. They never trusted him enough to let him go off on his own during missions, they hardly let him do anything on his own, they tended to just disregard any strategies he tries to offer. But... but they also let him have his own room, buy his own things, read whenever he wants to, they let him hoard as many droid parts that he can find. It wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t perfect either. It’s why he was debating on if he had made the right choice. One out of four disliked him, two out of four tolerated him, and the last actually treated him correctly, like a person. He had wanted to join them mainly because they offered freedom. Freedom to figure out who he was now. That and they also reminded him of Fives. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Fives was dead. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

“Oi, Echo. You’re stuck in your own head again,” Wrecker’s voice cut through Echo’s thoughts, making the former ARC Trooper blink rapidly as he pulled himself back to reality.

“Sorry, Wrecker. Just thinking,” Echo smiled back at the larger trooper in front of him.

They were playing some sort of brawling game that the Bad Batch had installed into the ship’s main table. Echo had no idea how to play, but Wrecker had begged him to play, so he was.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout,” Wrecker asked, grinning as he pressed a button, forcing one of the holographic creatures to attack one of Echo’s own holographic creatures.

“It’s nothing. Just my mind rambling on,” Echo huffed in slight frustration as he glared down at the game, he was loosing.

“Oh! It’s doing that thing that Tech does when he talks about computers,” Wrecker grinned back at Echo, tilting his head.

“Yeah,” Echo laughed lightly as he made his own move in the game, wincing internally when he had moved to try and use his right hand only to be met with the strange cybernetic attached to him instead.

He really needed to start working on that cybernetic hand. It was getting annoying, not being able to use his right hand anymore. Plus, having both hands would make him more useful on the battlefield right? Maybe that’d earn him some more trust.

“You and Tech ramble a lot, but you do it internally,” Wrecker nodded as he finished off Echo’s last remaining creature with a smirk, making Echo groan.

“Yeah. I don’t want to annoy anyone.”

——————

He was stuck with Crosshair this mission. Echo normally didn’t work with Crosshair on most missions, mainly because the sniper didn’t like him all that much, but this mission required him to be Crosshair’s second pair of eyes. That’s what he’d been told, but Echo had a sneaking suspicion that the real reason was because Hunter didn’t want him anywhere near the intelligence center they were infiltrating. He wasn’t stupid.

“Should we look for an alternate escape route for them should they run into trouble,” Echo asked quietly, glancing at the sniper beside him.

“No. They’ll be fine, reg. Just be my second pair of eyes and be quiet,” Crosshair scoffed quietly while he scanned the area with his scope.

Right. A second pair of eyes. What sort of use was a second pair of eyes for a sniper whose eye sight is perfect and his aim even better? Echo tried to hide his disappointment. His shoulders dropped anyways, and his left hand traced over the cybernetic piece on his arm. Useless. A second pair of eyes to a perfect sniper was useless. Why was he even invited to join them if they were never going to treat him like he was one of them?

He just needed to wait a little longer. He’d get that cybernetic hand fixed up by the end of next week, then he could be useful.

“Let’s move, reg.”

“Right.”

———————

Staying up till midnight wasn’t his best decision or his favorite decision, but he wanted to get that arm done so badly. He was halfway through though, so he couldn’t complain. Tech, however, apparently could.

“Look, I don’t know what you were doing last night, but please keep it down. Some of us like our beauty rest,” Tech scowled as he poked Echo in the chest.

“Sorry. I’ll try to be quieter. I was just fixing up my cybernetics,” Echo apologized quietly.

“What for? They’re in prestine shape. What damage could you have possibly done during the missions we’ve been on? Especially with where you have been placed in each mission,” Tech fired off two questions immedietly, crossing his arms over his chest in suspicion, or at least it looked like suspicion to Echo.

“I was just fine tuning some stuff. I get phantom pains, and tinkering helps me block it out,” Echo shrugged lightly, his voice going quiet under the scrutiny.

“Hmm. Just be quieter,” Tech huffed before heading back towards the kitchen in the ship.

“Right. Sorry.”

———————

Echo took Tech’s advice and was quieter the next night, tinkering away at the new cybernetic arm. He was 95% done with it when Hunter entered his room, making Echo jump. The Seargent studied him quietly, his face blank while he flicked his gaze from Echo, to the tools, and to the arm on the floor of his room. Echo swallowed heavily when the man took a few more steps towards him, closing the door behind him, and took a seat on the floor beside Echo.

“Is this what you were working on last night,” Hunter asked quietly, gesturing to the arm.

“Y-yes, sir. I just... I figured if I had both of my hands then... then you would trust me more. I wouldn’t be able to plug into anything anymore, and it would give me back my mobility. I’ve been useless so far. You won’t let me go off on my own, or do things by myself, and you don’t trust me enough to use any of my strategies. I’d be of more use this way. You could point and I’d shoot and—”

“Who said you were useless,” Hunter cut his rambling off, sitting up straight, alarm seeming to color voice.

“N-no one, but... I’m not stupid. I can tell when you’ve just put me with somone to keep me out of the way or to keep me away from computer terminals,” Echo replied quietly as he stared down at the unfinished cybernetic arm.

Hunter stared at Echo, studying the broken ARC in front of him. They treated Echo differently, because he was. Echo was the only brother that they had welcomed into their family that wasn’t a commanding officer like Cody or Rex.

“We’ve been treating you like glass and you took it the wrong way,” Hunter said softly, tilting his head away in slight shame.

“What?”

“C’mon, vod. Let’s put these tools away and get some sleep. You can finish this in the morning, that way Tech can make sure you hook it up correctly.”

“But, I—”

“No “buts”, reg. In the bed, even ARCs need sleep.”

“I- yes sir.”

———————

When Echo woke up that next morning he woke up to a steaming cup of caf beside his bed. That was... new. Not unwelcome of course just new. Echo sat up tiredly in his bunk and nursed the cup of caf for a good thirty minutes before he even got out of bed. It was then that he noticed the arm he had been working on was missing. Had Hunter taken it when he had taken the tools? Echo yawned lightly as he exited his room and went towards the kitchen to dispose of his cup.

“Hunter where did you put my stuff last night? I want to get it done by the time... we...,” Echo yawned as he stepped into the kitchen trailing off as he blinked at the picture in front of him.

Both Crosshair and Tech were curled over the cybernetic arm he had been working on last night, tools and paintbrushes in hand, slightly alarmed at Echo’s presence. Hunter looked smug almost as he sipped on his own cup of caf. Wrecker was- as usual- barely awake.

“What,” was all Echo’s tired brain came up with.

“Just fixing up the calibrating for it. We added a few things too. Crosshair kept bugging me about the design, so he helped too. We can attach it once we’re done,” Tech said, recovering first, voice as steady and logical as ever.

“It was made out of scraps of course I bugged about the design,” Crosshair scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“What,” Echo squeaked again, not understanding what was happening.

“Hunter said that we have been making you feel useless by not letting you do things by yourself or join the harsher missions. We didn’t mean to cause that type of thinking. We wanted to give you time to adjust first. That and we need you to regain some of your weight back, but that plan seems to have backfired. So, we are changing up our plan. You still won’t be in some of the harsher mission until you’re body is back up to it’s healthy weight, but we will no longer treat you like glass,” Tech replied easily as he finished working on the cybernetic arm.

“Because the reg isn’t made of glass. He never was,” Crosshair rolled his eyes lightly.

“By the way, Crosshair calls you a reg out of affection. Not insult,” Tech spoke up again.

Echo blinked in shock at the information, he twitched lightly when Crosshair didn’t even deny the comment either. They were... they were giving him space... giving him time to get used to things. Oh. OH.

“I was an ARC trooper. Still am really. You realize that being in the 501st on top of that makes me the farthest thing from glass, right,” Echo said quietly.

“Yeah we sort of figured that out,” Hunter laughed quietly.

“The boys in blue are crazy,” Wrecker nodded, starting to wake up.

Tech stood up from his seat and moved over to Echo, cybernetic arm in hand. The ARC trooper blinked in shock as Tech began to remove his old one and replace it with the new one. Echo twitched lightly when he felt it connect with his nerves.

“That should do it,” Tech nodded as he pulled back, the other Bad Batchers shifting slightly in anticipation.

Echo swallowed as he opened and closed his new cybernetic hand. He grinned sharply when he could feel it.

“Thanks. When can I test it in the field,” Echo smiled upon at them, the smile was sharp and near feral, all teeth and mischief.

“Next week, Echo,” Hunter laughed loudly.

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jemej3m · 4 years

Note

(mobster/cop au) what did the foxes think Andrews husband would be like before they met Neil? Did they had a bet?

this is…..not what you asked. i went off on a tangent lol, but i aint sorry.

(also i, for some reason, just cannot write good betting scenarios. might be because gambling addictions are p.serious. i know its all in good fun though! so im sorry i couldn’t include it)

Getting information about Andrew was like pulling teeth, and this was news to no one. Seeing as Kevin was - probably, maybe, most likely - Andrew’s closest friend at the precinct (other than Renee. And Wymack, possibly), Dan and Matt seemed to look to him after the discovery that Andrew had a husband when they’d all been trapped in that basement.

“Why would I know anything?” Kevin objected, when they’d approached him.

“Because Renee won’t give up his secrets and I know you’re as curious as we are,” Matt supplied.

“Well, I know nothing that y’all don’t already know. Apparently he’s married to a guy. I once overheard him talking on the phone to a Neil. Assuming that Andrew has no social life - which is an easy assumption to make - his husband is Neil.”

“Ooh,” Dan said, wiggling her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Mr Neil Minyard. Anything else?”

Kevin just shrugged. “Nope. Andrew’s a wall. You’ll never get anything more than that.”

Dan crouched down behind the car, breathing heavily. “Fucking hell,” she muttered, as another round of bullets sprayed out. She hated shootouts. At least Matt was safe at the precinct: she’d been doing a patrol with Andrew and Renee when they’d been radioed.

“Good that it’s a dead area,” Renee insisted, forever a ray of sunshine and goodness. How she and Andrew got along was a conspiracy to be marveled at, but it worked. “We shouldn’t be dealing with any civilian casualties.”

“Hey, coppers!” came a voice. “Fuck off! This ain’t your problem!” More bullets.

Dan rolled her eyes, then flinched as the car they were all crouched behind was fired at. Andrew grunted, a furrow between his brows.

“We told you to fuck off - !” the same guy yelled, before he was most definitely shot, making a gurgling noise in lieu of words.

“Andrew, south east,” Renee called. Andrew got up on his knee and aimed quick: he was one of the sharpest shooters on the squad. Dan heard a female scream “Shit!” as the shooting quietened.

“Nice shot,” she told the detective. He just grunted. “Right, clear out. Let’s never sign up to patrol this section of town on a Friday night again.”

“Agreed,” Renee mumbled, holding her gun close.

It seemed that whoever Andrew had shot got away: a pool of blood without a body remained evident on the path. The other group had abandoned their loud-mouthed friend, who was still writhing on the tar as the ambulance arrived. He’d only been shot in the arm, and it hadn’t hit bone. He’d be fine.

“Alright,” Dan told her two officers. “How about we sign off?”

They both grunted in agreement.

It was Tuesday morning, and Andrew’s desk was empty for a second day in a row. Dan folded her arms and stalked towards Wymack’s office to demand that the captain give Minyard a call, but he held up a broad palm as she entered the room.

“Andrew’s cited a family emergency.”

Dan narrowed her eyes. “Sure.”

Wymack simply arched a brow at her. “His husband was shot. If you want to cross-check for me and give him a call, be my guest, Wilds.”

Dan slowly retreated out of the captain’s office. She wasn’t suicidal enough to give Minyard a ring, not under those circumstances. Wymack’s word was definitely good enough.

She went back to her desk as Matt sidled up beside her, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“No PDA at work,” she complained.

“Shift’s over,” Matt pointed out, grinning. She rolled her eyes. “What should we get for dinner?”

“Not sure…” Dan trailed off as she watched Renee packing her desk, checking her watch rapidly and hastily slinging her bag over her shoulder. She pattered over to the bullpen’s kitchen and drew out a casserole dish from the freezer, lifting the foil to check its contents. With the dish held against her hip, she checked the freezer closed and made her way to the elevator.

“Whatcha got there, Renee?” Matt piped up, helping the dish out of Renee’s hands when she’d dropped her phone. It wasn’t often that Renee got flustered: she hastily picked up the mobile and tucked her hair behind her ears. Dan noticed she was wearing lip gloss.

“Well, since Neil’s been - sick,” she started.

“Shot,” Matt supplied. Dan glared at him: he shrugged. “What? I read Captain’s lips.”

Renee snorted, taking the dish back now that she was more organised. “I offered to make dinner, and Andrew prefers punctuality. I just hope that Neil likes it: I’ve never made this quiche before.” she worried, quietly. “Andrew said he hates vegetables but will put up with them when they’re hidden away. And hopefully Allison will eat eggs, and cheese.”

“Allison?” Dan inquired.

“Neil’s best friend,” Renee said, still distracted as she looked for her car keys. “Oh, heavens, I’m so late.”

“Go,” Dan insisted. Renee smiled gratefully. “Tell Andrew we say hello.” She nodded and jogged towards the exit.

“And tell Neil to get shot less!” Matt added, unhelpfully. “I won’t keep doing his paperwork!”

Dan laughed and leaned into her husband’s shoulder. She looked up at him, her chin brushing the crook of his neck. “Do you think Andrew will ever let us meet him?”

“Not sure,” Matt said. “It would probably completely ruin his cred as a stoic asshole. He’s probably a massive sap at heart.”

Dan smiled into the collar of Matt’s shirt. “Never put Andrew Minyard and sap in the same sentence again, babe.”

Matt just laughed and looped a hand around her waist.

“So,” Matt said, leaning against the edge of Minyard’s table. “How was your week off?”

“Great,” Minyard said flatly. “Go away.”

Matt ignored him and sat in the victim’s chair, leaning his chin on his hand. “You know, I’m pretty sure you and your husband have been married longer than Dan and I have. Do you have any anniversary suggestions?”

“Get a divorce,” Minyard grunted, looking at his report.

Matt grinned. “Don’t be like that. What did you and Neil do last time?”

“Nothing,” Minyard mumbled. Matt noticed his cheeks going red and rose up his eyebrows. Minyard noticed his look and scowled. “It was our anniversary this week and he was bedridden. Quit looking at me like that, Boyd.”

“A January wedding,” Matt cooed. “Did you take photos in the snow?”

“I will castrate you.”

“Cool,” Matt said, airily. “Well, happy anniversary, Andrew. Tell Neil we said hi.”

“I won’t,” Andrew insisted. “Get lost.”

Matt snorted and did as he was told. He’d intended to say hi to Renee, but she was over at Dan’s desk, so he sauntered over with his thumbs hooked into his pockets.

“Hey, Renee,” he said, grinning. His fellow detective and his sergeant raised their eyebrows at him. “I’ve been thinking,”

“You should be working,” his wife reminded him.

“Andrew just had his anniversary, right? But they couldn’t do anything because Neil’s been bedridden. We should all pitch in for a gift. Maybe a weekend away?”

“That’s a lovely idea, Matt,” Renee said, grinning.

“How the hell did you get that information out of him?” Dan said, incredulous.

“I’ll email you some ideas: you know the two of them, best.” Matt rubbed his hands together.

“Preferably not New York, not somewhere warm, or somewhere with lots of people,” Renee advised. “Neil is apparently forever antagonistic and it drives Andrew up the wall.”

“Sexy up the wall or angry up the wall? I don’t think we should be encouraging strenuous activity when Neil’s been recovering from a bullet wound.” Renee just laughed, neither confirming nor denying Matt’s inquired. She bid both of them good day and went back to her desk, ignoring Minyard’s inquisitive looks.

“Why are you doing this?” Dan murmured.

Matt shrugged. “Dunno. I feel like he deserves it.”

Dan smiled at him. “Alright.”

Kevin, Renee, Matt and Dan were all sitting in the breakroom. Andrew stormed in, bright and cheery as ever. It was a blissful Tuesday morning, sleet pelting down and temperatures well below freezing: As Andrew tugged off his scarf, revealing a wind-pinked nose and a fair amount of love bites just above his collar, he chucked a tin onto the table.

“Who’s idea was it?” Andrew accused.

Kevin watched Matt grin, looking up at Andrew. They were almost the same height even with Matt sitting down. “How were the mountains?”

“Very pleasant,” Andrew muttered, peeved. “Neil baked those as thanks. I hope he poisoned them. You’re all the worst.” After a moment, and a reprimanding glance from Renee, he mumbled out a quiet “Thank you.” and just as quickly as he’d come in, he turned to leave. He must have caught his reflection in the window, because he hastily tugged the scarf back around his neck, cheeks turned pink.

Kevin huffed, looking to his colleagues. “Are you satisfied enough, now? I, for one, now know way more about him than I ever wanted to.”

The Boyd-Wildses opposite him just grinned.

ehheeheewill i ever post the renison + wedding thing? hopefully yes - if i dont run out of steam first. almost 2/3s of the way through my rbb and its taking longer than i thought!!!! also moving out of state, so a lot is happening rn and if that means i neglect ur asks and prompts i am very sorry!!!!

#andreil #dan wilds/matt boyd #andrew minyard #neil josten #cop!andrew #cop!foxes #butcher!neil #married couple #all for the game #aftg #mobster/cop au #jem writes

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tomhiddleston-is-mischief · 4 years

Text

“One, Two, Three”

Teen!Sam Winchester x teen!reader

Summary: After Sam asks Y/N to teach him how to dance, something happens...

Warning(s): nothing other than cussing and mentions of a bad werewolf attack

Word count: 1,273

A/N: In this, you and Sam are about 16-17 :) Thanks for reading

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As I ride to school with Dean and Sam, I notice Sam has his attention on something. I look in that direction too, seeing the poster that says: ‘HIGH SCHOOL DANCE FRIDAY AT 7 PM’. I look back at Sam, wondering why he wanted to go to one of those. “Listen, guys.”, Dean stopped the Impala in front on the school,”Dad is probably going to be gone for a week or two. Y/N, your mom said she’d come to take you back in a few weeks. That’s when your dad’s wounds should be healed.” I smiled, glad that his wounds are getting better. My dad was gone on a werewolf hunt, and he accidentally walked into it being five of them. He left with some pretty nasty cuts and broken bones all over. My mom would have been too busy with my dad, so she gave me to her best friend, John Winchester. That is where I met my own best friend: Sam Winchester. We are the same age, so it was expected for us to get along well.

“I wish you could stay longer. Well, I mean- I’m glad your dad is dong better! That’s great! I just wish you didn’t have to go..”, Sam spoke swiftly when he got nervous. We walk closer to the school doors as I chuckle. I get a better grip on my backpack as I say: “Don’t worry, Sammy. You’re my best friend. I’m not going to be radio silent on ya.” “Thank God.”, he chuckles as he sees Dean flirting with one of the teachers. I roll my eyes, and step in after Sam opened the door for me.

This day was like any normal day at school. I had boring classes, and people were trying to figure out who exactly I am. After that, Dean picked us up, and took us back to the crappy motel room we are staying in this week. “Hey, I’m going to call my mom and dad.”, I informed Dean as I picked up his mobile phone. “Kay.”, he simply said as he cleaned our guns out of boredom. Before I walk out of the door, I make sure to mess up Sam’s hair. “Hey!”, he exclaims as I do so. I chuckle, and close the door. After I dial the house’s number, I hear it ring a few times, then I hear my mom’s voice.

“Hey, mom!”, I say excitedly, “Hey, baby. How are you? It’s been a few days..” I hear her smile through the phone. “Yeah, sorry about that. We’ve been a little bit busy. I’m good, though.”, I answer her. “Well, that’s good. Your dad is doing better. You’ll be back in a few weeks!”, she replied. I smiled,”Yeah..” “Yeah? Where’s the ‘Yeah!! Can’t wait, mom!!’”, she chuckles. I roll my eyes with a smile on my face. “I am glad! I’m super glad! I just…” My sentence ran off, but my mom caught on to my act. “A boy?” I could hear her giddiness through the phone. “It is, isn’t it?!”, she exclaimed as I stayed silent. My cheeks reddened,”Y-yeah.. I just.. I’m going to miss him a lot..” “Who is it, baby?”, my mom says in a bit more of a softer tone. She probably is starting to get why I feel so down. “Please don’t tell anyone. It’s Sam.” “Winchester?? You’re best friend Sam? My best friend’s kid??”, she asks. I nod, only to remember that she cannot see me. “Yeah, Sam Winchester.”

The conversation went on, and unfortunately, my dad was resting the whole time. Gosh, I miss him a lot. “Y/N? You good?”, Dean peaked his head through the door. I give him his phone and nodded. “I’m alright. Thanks.”, I smile and walk into the room. “Good, ‘cause I got a date with a teacher from your school.”, he grinned. Sam and I groan at this news. “First, ew. Second, gross. Third, please go to her place. For the love of everything holy, go to her place.”, I scowl at the horny bastard. He only winks at me, and says goodbye before going out the door. “So, whatcha wanna do, Sammy?”, I plop on the bed he was sitting on. “Um.. I have to ask for a favor..”, he rubs the back of his neck. “Sure, but nothing weird. Well, too weird.”, I answer him. His face turns pink as he chuckles. “This may be a bit weird..”, he looks at his feet,”Can- Can you teach me how to dance?” My eyebrows raise in surprise. Me? Teaching Sam how to dance? “Slow or for a party?”, I ask. “S-slow..”, he replies as his face turns into a deeper shade of pink. “Great, ‘cause that’s all I know how to do.”, I chuckle as I jump off the bed. He raises a brow at me,”You’ll do it?” I nod,”Yeah, now get your ass over here.”

Sam walked closer to me, so I took his hands and set them on my hips. I put my arms on his shoulders. He tensed at first, but he got used to it went we started moving a little. He needs to learn the basics, of course. “This is swaying. It isn’t much, but it’s sweet.”, I say as I continue to move side to side. We do this for a little while. Sam is looking right into my eyes, and I cannot help but to have blood rush to my cheeks. “Should we move on to slow dances?”, I say softly, not daring to ruin the moment we are having. He nods, so I bring him with me as I say ‘one, two, three’ over and over a few times. “You try.”, I tell him as I let him lead the dance. Sam continues to look at his feet as he whispers ‘one, two, three’ over and over again. After a few minutes, he is doing great. “Try to look up now.”, I say, making him look up to see my face. “Is it getting easier?”, I ask him. He nods,”Yeah, it is. It isn’t really that hard.” Sam shrugs at the end of his sentence. “Thanks to you.”, he adds. I smile,”Well, I think you are just naturally good.” “No, I’m not.. You’re just awesome.”, he chuckles. I shake my head with a smile plastered on my face. “I am, aren’t I?”, I look into his eyes again. “Yeah.”, he said as the smile never left his face. “Can I tell you something, Sammy?”, I ask him. He nods without a word. “I love how beautiful your eyes are. One second they are grey. The other time, they are-“

I did not get to finish my sentence because I felt a cool pair of lips on mine. I tense at first, but melt into the act once I realise what is actually happening. I wrap my arms around his neck, and start playing with the hairs on the back of his head. His hands grip to my waist, making my stomach have a feeling of dizziness.

“I forgot my wal-“, Dean walks through the door and stops his movement when he sees us,”-let..” We stare at Dean as he does the same to us. He glances at Sam, me, then Sam. “Use protection.”, he simply says before walking out the door. I roll my eyes because he knows we are, both, too much of a goody two shoes to go any further than kissing. “I hate him..”, I chuckle, then put my head on Sam’s chest. “Oh, don’t we all.”, he laughed.

...

Perm. Tags:

@peasant-right-here @marshyrebelcloud @blackeyedangel9805 @lovesmesomehiddles @an-adventureland

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural imagines #supernatural x reader

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marvel-ousnesss · 4 years

Text

The pirate and the witch (part four)

Pairing: Harry Hook x daughter of narissa!reader

Summary: Y/N, an orphan vk who was taken to auradon at a young age, returns to her old home by request of the crown prince. However, things tend to go south at the Isle of the Lost.

Warning: Mild cursing, use of alcohol, sword fighting (no super detailed descriptions)

Word count: 4460(ish)

A:/N: happy Christmas Eve eve!!! Finally done with part four and turns out I ended up writing a plot that flows slower than intended (oops). I’m sorry for the wait but I’ve been sort of busy with holiday-related procrastination. Also…. I’m working on a request and a Bucky royal au which I’ll be posting soon. As always, lots and lots of love and thanks for reading ❤️ Pls tell me what you think.

(BTW… there’s a flashback at the end, it’s in italics.)

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE DISNEY DESCENDANTS CHARACTERS, THE PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN CHARACTERS NOR THE SANDERSON SISTERS. All credit goes to the creators, writers, and producers. Same with the HP charms, credit goes to J.K Rowling (for now, just present in the first parts).

part one part two part three mobile masterlist

— Oi, lass, lass,— a familiar intone is heard when I open the window.

To my surprise, I spot Harry behind a trash container, with my cloak resting on his right shoulder.

When he sees my head peeking out of the second floor window, he pipes, — if you wanted to see me again, you should’ve just asked.

— Who says I wanted to see you, that was a hint for Gil to find.

He snickers at my words,— ya gaunnie come get yer manky cloak, or do I have to go up there?

—Shit, — I breathe — Just a second!

I close the window and look at Jay, who quirks a brow but doesn’t move from his spot on my desk. He began to explore my sketchbook app a few minutes ago, and seems to be completely immersed in it. Nevertheless, he puts the device down and chuckles, — This is you’re place, you know. Say the word and I’ll be out.

His words take me by surprise. Even if he’s been here for a few hours, I still can’t get completely used to the idea of such dangerous people, who are feared to death back home, being as decent and friendly as they have been during my stay here.

So, after a brief goodbye, he leaves and, after all of my Auradon-related stuff, I open the window once again.

— You already came all the way here, what’s a few steps up.

He’s about to make his way up the fire escape but, after a few steps toward it, he crosses his arms and says, — Yer right, I came to yer place, don’t I deserve a prize?

He’s such a flirt. After debating it with myself for a second, I make up my mind.

— Come here and get it, — I wink.

Without a second thought, he runs up the stairs outside the building and reaches my window in no time. What I’m I doing? No one was supposed to find out about this place, yet I’ve brought two vks here in just a day. I try to keep my cool as the pirate walks toward me, stopping about a foot away.

He smirks, —So, doll, ‘bout me prize.

I feel the heat in my cheeks when he takes a small step closer, placing a hand on the side of my waist.

—oh, right… that,——

Think fast, think fast….

I smile at him sweetly and kiss his right cheek, retrieving my cloak from his shoulder. — your welcome, — I smirk.

He laughs at my antics, — yer kidding? Don’t ya say that’s it! Glaickit of ya to think I’ll leave with just that.

—Who says you have to leave?— I utter the words while stepping back in order to sit on my bed.

His brows jump up and his ocean blue eyes shine with mischief and surprise. — What’d you suggest, doll.

— Staying here for a while but, now that I think of it, wouldn’t it be more fun to go out? The docks, maybe?

— Nah, depends on what you want to do. — his words keep coming out laced with an air of innuendo.

Not wanting to give up yet, I decide to play coy. — You know, the usual; take a walk, grab a bite, ‘keep the heid’, don’t you have to do rounds?

This time, it is a mix of mischief and excitement that floods him. — Yer right, can’t wait to see the faces of those wingnut vampires when ya scare the shit outta them!

— yeah… I’m thrilled.

Why did I suggest this, of all possible things to do? The question seems to be trapped in my mind. Ever since we left the apartment, Harry began to show a new side of himself, one that I had only seen in the papers I read beforehand.

He invited me to do his rounds with him, on the way to the docks and, needless to say, my magic resulted completely useless when it came to achieving the level of fear that Harry had in mind.

— Not so badass now? bastard, — he hisses, with a smirk on his face as his hook grabs some guy by the jacket. — whatcha gonna do?

The guy limits himself to whimper and let out some sort of cry. Given that the pirate has already grabbed everything that caught his eye, together with the designated amount of golden coins, the business there is dimmed as finished and we finally begin walking to Ursula’s.

—So what ya think, see yourself doing this with me and the crew?— he asks.

—Not really, not one for all of the intimidating.

— Ain’t so sure ‘bout that, lassie. You’ve done pretty well for what I’ve seen. — it is kind of weird to hear such words coming from him; even more so when sincerity is all across his handsome features.

I snicker, — yeah, right; I can’t even get a fly to run away.

His chin lifts up and his chest comes forward subtly, — I’d help you with that, if you decided to join us. In fact, — he wiggles his brows with a smirk, — I’d train you.

— As tempting as that sounds, I’ll have to decline, Hook. Got better things to do:

I shouldn’t even think twice about declining but something about exploring my vk side a bit further than I’ve been able to doesn’t sound completely crazy. Maybe is the way he looks at me, or should I say through me, with his ocean eyes; or the way in which those same eyes shine when he’s about to wreak havoc? Don’t really know, and not sure if I really want to.

Guess I’ll just have to solve this problem in the way I do it best, ignoring my questions until they go away.

I begin to run and chant, — Race you to the docks!

….

Panting, I stop in front of Ursula’s and get inside. The place is packed with members of Uma’s crew, some of which seem to recognize me. They acknowledge me without hostility, still thankful for what I did for them the night of the party.

—Look, Uma, Y/N’s here! Bet she’s looking for Harry, — Beams Gil, the blond and tall guy who first broke the ice with me the night I met the crew.

Uma smirks and approaches me, — Look, witchy, not sure if you got the memo but one night stands are supposed to be just that, and last one night, nothing more.

— Thanks for the heads up, cap, but I’m actually here to grab a pint. — I sit down on a barstool.

— in that case, — she turns away, visibly relaxing, — Bonnie! A beer for bibbity bobbity bullshit over here!

When Uma is behind the bar again, Harry, who had been inside and contemplating the scene, approaches me.

— Sorry ‘bout that, Uma just knows me too well,— he ventures. — Ain’t good for the business to have every lady in the isle claiming to see me, now is it?

His cockiness is amusing as it is annoying. — Oh, of course — I ponder.— that would be completely tragic.

He chuckles at me and steals a sip from my still full beer. Honestly, I don’t even like beer that much; just ordered it to play the part. Go

— Yer different, though, — he claims, but I don’t believe a word.

— Do tell, why is that?

— You’re not as annoying. Actually, I kinda like having you ‘round, — he flirts.

— So you, Mr. use-‘em-‘n-dump-‘em, are claiming I’m special? — I gasp mockingly, — what an honor.

We both laugh a bit, share another sip of beer, and he continues.

He shrugs, — Yer also fast. Not enough, but fast; even if you were playing dirty.

—Oh, gods, aren’t you one to talk about that! — I accuse,— and, given the case that I did play dirty, how did I do it?

— Lookie here — he gesticulates, motioning himself. — Racing a hungover pirate ain’t fair, besides, I had too much clothes on.

I chuckle, part of me wishing I could wipe that smirk off his face. — You’re just a bad loser, I’m pretty sure you’re always hungover; and, as for your clothes, not sure how that’s related to me kicking your ass.

— How low do ya think of me, doll, ya think I’m a bad loser? — he fakes a gasp. — and, as for my clothes, —his tone is mocking, — can’t you just enjoy me charm and help me solve the problem? But, in case you wanted a serious answer for your question, nakedness makes me more aerodynamic.

— wouldn’t you like that, Captain cockiness.— my brow quirks up. — And seriously, aerodynamic? Yeah, right.

— Not as much as ya would, my little witch.

I scoff as my eyes drift over to the window. The day is warm despite the lack of sun, so I suggest, — I think I’m gonna go for a walk. Come with me?

…….

The sound of the waves crashing against the docks is one that I’ve loved my whole life, back home, my dad and I go for boat rides often. However, here there’s a bunch of noise that accompanies the punches of water against wood and stones. The market is busy as we walk, but most of the catches turn out to be dead fish and trash that arrives from Auradon.

— I still don’t believe you, you know? It’s impossible for you to fit the grip of your hook inside your mouth; besides, how can I believe you if your too chickened up to prove it,— my arms cross expectantly.

Since we got out of Ursula’s, Harry’s been telling me a bunch of stories of his and Gil’s drunken deeds, and I may have also revealed a few of mine and Chad’s own disventures. For the last five minutes, he’s been trying to convince me that he’s capable of putting the whole base of his hook inside his mouth, but refuses to show me.

— Lass, ya’ll have to take me word for it. I’m still a few bottles of scotch away from doing that again.

—pff,— I playfully shove him sideways. — Yeah, right.

He places the tip of his hook on his chin, pretending to think, — you know, shouldn’t have spilled so much, now ya have lots of dirt on me.

—What am i gonna use it for? You know what, never mind. — I proclaim, — You, Harry James Hook, just made the worst mistake of your life. Now I’ll overthrow you and Uma, and take over the lost revenge. Buahahaha!

He laughs at me and counters, — seriously lass, some of these things, I’ve never told anyone before.

—relax Hook, you can trust me, — I smile, with the sincerity I can muster.

— Oh, okay then.

After the short moment of vulnerability, we fall into a void of uncomfortable silence. We continue to walk along the brick street next to the sea, and my hands seem to find a permanent place inside the pockets of my jacket. Harry softly whistles a melody with his eyes locked down, but looks up and smiles as we reach a familiar ship.

His frame stiffs for a moment as he inquires — You sure I can trust ya?

I hesitate, — Yes, of course.

— Then come on, you’re meeting someone. — he grins.

The ship seems to be isolated from the rest, yet it is full of crew members that work and bounce from one side of the deck to the other.

When we enter their sight, they stop to stare at us and pull out their swords.

One of them speaks with a threatening and raspy voice, — Not outsiders in the Black Pearl, Hook.

— Relax, Y/N ain’t gonna start beef, Barbossa. — Harry assures, — where’s Jack at?

— Sure hope she does cause some trouble, we could always use some tasty ladies here in this humble ship. — the malice in his expression makes me shiver, not to mention the wicked grin coming from the monkey on his shoulder, so I move slightly behind Harry.

At this point, it’s evident that the younger pirate’s patience is becoming thinner. — She’s not here for that, now where’s Jack?

Barbossa’s pounding laugh comes laced with his response, — His chambers, drinking. Good luck getting him outta there.

So, shielding me from the Wolfish looks sent by some crew members, Harry drags me to what I assume is the entrance of the captain’s quarters.

He knocks three times and a groan is heard on the other side, right before the breaking of a bottle and an incoherent train of curse words.

The door opens to reveal a tanned middle aged man sporting wild dreadlocks and a bored expression. However, his facade changes as soon as he registers that Harry was the one who dared interrupt him.

—Powder Monkey! What brings you to this old man’s ship?— his arm flies over Harry’s shoulder and he drags him inside.

I follow closely behind. My eyes scan the wooden floor and walls, the scattered pieces of green glass that I’m sure recently fell down, and a table full of unopened bottles, surrounded by five stools.

— Just thought I’d come ‘n greet, so you pack of salty dogs wouldn’t forget ‘bout me.

— Nah, wouldn’t forget ‘bout my favorite boot cleaner, — he smiles, showcasing a few golden teeth, — now would I?

Harry’s only response is to laugh as he opens a bottle of rum, — Also, wanted you to meet a, uhh, an acquaintance. Jack, Y/N; Y/N, this is Jack.

Acquaintance, seriously?

He turns my way, smirking and stretching out a dusty hand, — Well, let me say, m’lady, any friend of Jimbo here is a friend of mine. —After we shake hands, he sits down on the table, grabbing yet one more bottle, — Now tell me, what stupidity have you done to cross ways with this wonky piece of sea garbage?

I’m about to start, but Harry interjects, — She can’t tell you nothing without a dram.

— Only got rum, Hookey, who do ya think yer talking to, Turner?— he scoffs.

— Rum it is, then.

Awkwardly, I state, — Actually, I’m good as it is, gentlemen.

— You don’t drink? — This time, Sparrow breaks into laughter,— got a princess in your hands, Harry. But m’lady, — he turns toward me,— we all drink here, ‘s the code.

I chuckle, — Fine, but just a few drinks.

…

Thank god I have my boots on, I think to myself as I look at the floor. A fit of giggles scale my lips, followed by an almost unperceivable hiccup. It’s been a few hours since we arrived at the Pearl, and we’ve been drinking nonstop. At the beginning, it was only Jack and the two of us, but then Gil ended up here, together with maestre Gibbs.

I told them how I met Harry, but that’s the only truth that I’ve spilled. After all, knowing where I’m from would be enough motivation for these men to make me walk the plank and straight into the kraken’s nest. From then on, I’ve been mostly listening.

— So, then I was like ‘proceed,’ but they noticed I wasn’t white so the one with the fancy wig went all ‘it’s Jack Sparrow, it’s Jack sparrow!’ and I was like ‘nub-uh, I’m justice Smith.’ — Jack speaks between laughs, with exaggerated esticulations, as he takes another sip of some cheap wine; the rum ran out like an hour ago.

— You saved my ass that day, Jack, I remember it like it happened this very morning, — Gibbs patted his friend’s shoulder.

Gil chimes in, — like that time you saved us from the Huns, we wouldn’t have lasted two seconds without you and Anamaria.

— I haven’t heard that one yet, — I voice, utterly curious.

— Well, — Jack announces, then yawns. — you’ll have to hear it another time, Y/N/N. I've got some business, you know? Gotta sleep for a few years now.

Being the ship’s captain, and the two young pirates’ mentor, no one’s hesitant to comply. We get up and say goodbye, then make our way outside.

All three of us are still fairly drunk, so I decide to take this chance to see if I can get them to open up.

— I still haven’t heard the story of you guys and the Huns.

— ‘S a long one, lass. — states Harry, placing an arm around my shoulder, to which I respond by loosely grabbing his wrist with my right hand, as to keep his arms from moving.

— Well, we’ve got time! — I yowel.

— You’re gonna love it, Y/N. — As we walk, Gil begins to explain, taking a sip of the bottle we grabbed from the Pearl.— We were like seven when that happened?

----

Harry and Gil walked silently, as they kept an eye on Shan Yu’s men. It was Harry’s first official mission as part of his father’s crew, or it was gonna be, and he had called Gil and Uma for help and support. Sadly, the young sea witch had been grounded that very morning, so she couldn’t be there with the two boys. To say that they had absolutely no idea what they were doing was a complete understatement. They were clueless.

So, they did what seemed rational at the moment: follow the enemies and wait for the perfect moment to attack. Or… at least that’s what Gil had heard his father say when he talked about hunting.

—Shh!! — scolded Harry, — you’re gonna make them see us, Gil!

The blond boy muttered a quick ‘sorry,’ and continued walking, this time avoiding collisions.

— Harry, they’re getting into a warehouse, we should wait out here. — Gil intoned, chocolate eyes shining with fear.

Harry immediately countered and, on the contrary to his friend’s, his blue orbs were flooded with pride and determination. —No, this is my chance to prove father that I can be a real pirate. If we make it, he will train me.

----

We continue walking through the very same road that we took earlier today (yesterday, as midnight passed a few hours ago). Harry’s arm remains placed around me and mine has now found its way around his middle.

As he speaks, I feel the soft vibrations of Harry’s voice and the alcohol that pleasantly poisoned his breath; — so, we decided to ambush the Huns right there.

— We decided? You manipulated me into going, — Gil points out, giggling.

Harry sighs and grumbles, — Anyway, the point is we went inside and here we are; so, continue talking Gil. Before sunrise, if you can.

----

The two boys literally crossed a door that had no way back. They hid behind a few boxes of what they supposed were ingredients for Dim Sum, and carefully watched as the Hun soldiers opened a chest full of gold that they had stolen from the Jolly Roger.

— There it is, — Harry whispered in awe.

— It’s a lot of gold, — Gil quavered.

Back then, they were convinced that no one was aware of their presence, but a certain pirate lord who had his eyes on the very same prize had seen them from the start.

— Isn’t that Hook’s boy? — asked Anamaria.

—Yup.

She continued to press on the topic, — shouldn’t we take him? He’d be useful against his father; we could get some money out of him.

—Nope.

— And why the hell not, Jack?

The captain sighed, as he adjusted his position on the ceiling bar, — Jim doesn’t pose a threat at the moment and nothing he has seems to be worth it these days, the boy’s useless.

The Huns continued to speak in hushed tones, reason why none of the intruding parties were able to register what was happening.

The kids didn’t even have time to move when they felt the cold metal of swords against the back of their necks. With their hands raised in defeat, they stood up and faced Shan Yu’s soldiers.

—Your father didn’t even have the balls to come here himself?

— Maybe we could send him your fingers? Or maybe even your left hand? That way you’d get matching hooks.

The grown men spoke as they advanced on the two boys, making them head toward the wall of the building. When they had them cornered, both Huns raised their swords and both boys shielded their heads with their arms; but no harm came their way.

Instead, they saw the Huns fighting two other people, whom Harry recognized as members of the enemy pirate crew, the tripulation of the Black Pearl.

— So that’s why you went after the kids —chortled the man. — Your technique is worse than your fashion sense, and that’s saying something.

Both boys giggled at his words.

The man’s combat was sparkled with humor and witty comments, while the woman fought silently and with a stern expression, only groaning every few hits. Both of them had impeccable technique, and they seemed to be dancing in perfect coordination.

After what had seemed to be hours, the Huns ended up dead.

— I can’t believe I agreed to come with you in the first place, — hissed the woman, cleaning her left boot with the end of her puffy white sleeve.

— Come one, don’t tell me it wasn’t fun!

She ignored her companion and approached the boys, who had been contemplating their interaction.

— Hey, — she smiled, — I’m Ana, and that idiot over there is captain Jack Sparrow.

Harry stepped forward, — I’m quartermaster Harry Hook, and this is my friend Gil.

—Quartermaster? Harry, your father doesn’t even let you near the crew.

Harry glared at his friend and decided to explain to the two strangers, — well, I’m not exactly a quartermaster… yet! — he assured. — but I’m gonna be one, when my dad decides to train me.

It was the man’s turn to speak, and his voice came tinted with venom. — You mean Jim sent you here without training? Not even I would do that.

— My dad doesn’t think I have what it takes to be a pirate. I was gonna bring him his treasure back and show him I do have it, but I guess you’re gonna take it, right?

‘Not the puppy eyes, not those; anything but the puppy eyes!’ Jack pleaded to himself, but he ended up looking at the boy and giving in.

He groaned, and then spoke up. — We’ll all go back to the Pearl. There, well split the gold and maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.

— Uma’s gonna love this, — grinned the boys in unison.

----

We arrived at the end of the road, so the three of us sat on the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the water.

— So, that’s basically it. — concludes Gil. — Jack taught us everything we know about being pirates. Then, he helped us get the Lost Revenge.

I take a drink, — And, you’re all still pretty close to him. That’s really cool.

Harry chuckles, — well, we kind of owe him everything we are.

I lift my head, which was resting on his shoulder, and glance at him. — That’s not true; he may have trained you, but I’m sure you all have become your own selves.

— Don’ be stupid, lass, he did it because it meant a future a alliance and an advantage, not because he has a teaching vocation.

I sigh, looking for adequate words to phrase what I want to say, — Then you guys owe him what you know about piracy, nothing more.

None of the two pirates said anything.

You know, — Gil sighed, — he’s been there for us more than our own parents. He even saved us from Hook’s crew once, when we were thirteen.

—Still, he did it because we’d signify power for him and not because he cared about us. — Harry takes a long swing of liquor.

I sigh, — Still, I think that, even if he didn’t care at the beginning, he’s fond of you guys now.

Harry’s about to object, but he thinks for a moment and mumbles, — he’s been around for quite a while, even for me sisters.

—I’m just pretty glad that we found him, — Gil hummed, — since I began training with him, my father has been going on about how proud he is that I’m big and strong, and how he hopes that I’ll get myself a nice lady.

— Funny, — Harry says with a tint of grief, — my dad stopped talking to me when the moment I stepped on the Pearl.

Once again, we fall into silence. I fall backwards and look at the cloudy sky, Gil and Harry soon follow and, once again, I find a spot right under the first mate’s arm.

— I’m kind of sleepy, guys.— Gil voices my thoughts, we should head back to the Revenge.

Without complaining, the three of us stand up and walk back to the ship. Instead of heading to their quarters, Harry and Gil lead me to a few hammocks that are placed on deck for those on night guard.

Harry takes off his boots and coat, sitting on one, —‘m sure Uma won’t mind if we use these for tonight.

—Yeah, no big deal, — Yawns Gil.

— Kay.

I’m already beginning to sober up, so sleep is beginning to hit me. Without a second thought, I lay down and wrap myself in my cloak. I drift off to sleep, and my head clears.

It only lasts a few hours, though. I wake up with nausea and my head pounding. Sitting up, decision which immediately regret, I look around for Harry and Gil but turns out I’m alone. I get up and rub my eyes, walking towards Frollo’s creperie, which is a few blocks away from Ursula’s.

I arrive and bark my order, like I’ve seen people do it around here. Then, with a huff, I sit down and quickly glance at my watch.

9:30 am… shit!

Tags: @criticizing-blogger @aspitefullittlebeing @treestarrrrrrrr

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multifandom-fanficwriter · 4 years

Text

I’ll keep you safe

Prompt:

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst

Warnings: mentions of past abuse

Word count: 1147

A/N: this is my first fanfic! Please tell me what you think and feel free to leave some constructive feedback. But please go easy on me lol. Btw does anyone know how to put the read more in a fic on mobile? I tried but it didn’t work.

Six months

That’s how long you’ve been with that asshole. It was only six months, but it was the worst time of your life. It started out normal. You met him at a bar. He seemed nice, so you started flirting with him. He flirted back and bought you a drink. A few hours later, you went home with him.

He was incredibly sweet the first month. He would occasionally buy you flowers and take you out for dinner every week. But then his parents died. He was completely wrecked by it and started drinking. He became aggressive, often throwing things around and screaming at you for no reason. He started taking out his anger on you, hitting and beating you. You kept telling yourself that he would stop eventually. That he was just upset because of his parents death. But it didn’t stop, it only got worse. After he had beaten you up really bad this one time, you decided that enough was enough and you broke up with him.

A month later you met Sam and Dean winchester. And now, a year later, you are in a relationship with Dean, and you’re genuinly happy. The only thing is that the abuse did leave you with some scars, and you didn’t want your boyfriend to find out. He would be furious and probably kill your ex boyfriend. You hated your ex, but you didn’t want him dead and you didn’t want Dean to worry.

............

You could already smell the smell of coffee as you walked into the kitchen of the bunker. You and the boys just finished a hunt yesterday and decided to stay at the bunker today to rest. You wore a pair of dark blue sweatpants that were a bit too big for you, and a grey short sleeved shirt from Metallica. You poured some coffee in a cup when you felt a pair of arms sneak around your waist and lips plant a kiss against you neck. “Goodmorning beautiful.”

You put your cup down and turned around to face Dean.

“Goodmorning handsome,” you said as you pecked him on the lips and slipped away from his grasp. You took a seat at the table and looked over at Sam. He was busy typing on his laptop.

“Goodmorning Sammy, whatcha doing?”

He briefly looked up, then went back to his work.

“i’m looking for a case,” he said, while continuing to work on his laptop.

“Dude, we just finished one. Can’t we rest for a little while?” Dean complained as he sat down next to you.

“Yeah well people could be dying while we are resting!”, Sam said with a raised voice.

“Wow someone has a bad day,” Dean commented.

“Sorry, i just didn’t sleep well.”

“So what will we do on our only free day?”, Dean asked as he turned to you.

“We could watch a movie?”

Dean nods and smiles. “Yeah, that would be fun.”

..................

You and dean were watching ‘The Avengers’ in his room. You laid with your head on his chest and he had his arm around you, his hand resting on your waist. The end-credits started rolling down the screen, so Dean moved to turn on the light. You stretched your arms above your head and yawned. But your shirt moved up a bit while doing this, revealing a few scars. You quickly pulled your shirt down when you realised this, but it was too late. Dean had seen them.

“Hey where did you get those scars from?”, he asked, a curious expression on his face.

“Oh it’s from a hunt.”

He frowned. “What were you hunting?”

“Uhm...a werewolf.”

He was quiet for a moment, still frowning.

“Y/n,” he began. “A werewolf doesn’t make that kind of scars.”

There were 3 scars on your stomach. Two were from cuts and the other one was from a stab wound. Your ex had thrown a glass at you, and then cutted and stabbed you with one of the shards. It was after this that you decided to break up with him.

“What do you mean?”, you asked him and you did your best to keep your voice from shaking.

“If a werewolf did it, then the cuts would’ve been next to each other. And the other scar doesn’t look like it’s from a cut.”

Tears started forming in your eyes, so you looked away from him. “Don’t worry about it Dean”. You stood up and started walking towards the door, needing some air.

“Hey, no, wait!”, he said with a raised voice as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. You let out a small whimper; your ex also did that sometimes. Dean’s face instantly filled with worry.

“Are you okay? Did i hurt you?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” You looked down at your hands. He gently took your hands.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded and looked up to meet his gaze.

“Those scars aren’t from a hunt,” you said quietly, but he heard you.

“Yeah, i figured.” He gave you a soft smile.

You took a deep breath and continued.

“I had a boyfriend before i met you and Sam.”

Dean frowned slightly but stayed silent.

“After his brother died, he started drinking a lot. He became aggressive, really aggressive.”

His expression hardened and his grip on your hands became tighter, but he let you continue.

“He...he hit me, throwed things at me.” You couldn’t stop yourself from crying anymore. “The scars are from when he cut and stabbed me.” You covered your face with your hands as you kept crying.

Dean pulled you close to him and hugged you. When you stopped crying, he pulled away to look at you. “Give me the name of that monster. I’m going to make him pay.”

“No, don’t, please!”, you cried.

“Why not?! He hurted you!”

“I don’t want him dead!”

“Yeah well i do!”, he yelled.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm down. “Dean, please,” you spoke quietly, your voice cracking. His expression softened. “Okay...okay, i won’t go after him. But why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out. And i was afraid that you would think different of me.”

Dean kissed you. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing you can say that will change the way i think of you. I love you.”

You kissed him back. “I love you too.”

He took your hands again. “And i promise you, i won’t ever hurt you like that. I’ll keep you safe.”

You smiled at him. “Thanks, Dean.”

He stood up and pulled you up as well.

“So how about we go buy some pie? I could use some,” he suggested.

“Pie sounds great.”

#supernatural x reader #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #fluff #dean fluff #dean angst #fanfic writer

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ravenclaw-craftsgirl · 4 years

Text

Lilian - Year One

Part 1 Part 2 Rating: G Foreword: This story uses the fanmade idea of Rowan Khanna being the name of Two Twins (The Twin Khannas) Using their middle names to distinguish themselves. Research has been done ahead of time, with certain instances purposely being different.

I will pre-translate all of Lilian’s french for Mobile users!

Enjoy! Here’s the original Google Doc Link for those who enjoy proper formatting

The morning was warm over London’s suburbs. The sun shone over the road as a young girl surrounded by several children in a house’s driveway. Each were chatting individually while two stood nearby with a timer as they watched. “Come on, Lil, ya got it!”

“Ye can do it!” they cried as the young brunette quickly reassembled a bikes assembly from scratch after having just polished them. Within a minute, she was done. “Woah, that’s thirty seconds faster!” The boy holding the stopwatch exclaimed, while the girl watching merely shouted in celebratory victory for her friend. The two helped the other up as a group of girls walked past and started laughing. “Oh look, La Rude is in the dirt plating with the boys again. Guess she didn’t get the memo that Girls don’t do that.” The leader of the group shouted, as the others laughed and chided in their obnoxiously high voices. “<It is rather rude to deny my talents. Only an idiot would degrade someone for doing something she likes.>” Lilian Le’Reau replied with a smirk. Several of the girls simply looked among themselves, confused and worried at what Lilian had just said. The leader simply frowned and stuck her tongue out before snapping her fingers, signalling for the others to continue wherever they were trying to go. “I don’t know why you put up with her, Lilian. She’s always such a jerk.” Lilian simply shrugged, pulled the hair tie out from her ponytail and shook her head. She grinned as her hair fell past her shoulders “Because I know I can make fun of her in french without her tattling.” With that sentiment, the kids all boarded their bikes and rode down to the nearest Football field to play a game.

It wasn’t until much later that day when Lilian finally rode home. The sun was barely touching the horizon as Lilian was riding. Suddenly a flash of black as an Owl suddenly appeared on Lilian’s handlebars. “<WHAT THE HECK>!” Was all she could say before she jerked the front wheel to the side out of reaction, causing her to crash into her yard. Covered in sweat and dirt, Lilian sat up and groaned as she looked at the bent front axle of the bike she had bought. “Mama is going to kill me. And what was… that.” The owl simply turned to her and spun it’s head around, almost in a form of acknowledging the wreck that had just happened. Even more curious than the owl itself was the letter in its beak. Addressed to her home… with her name… Lilian carefully reached out to the owl to take the letter, careful to not potentially spook the creature. Thankfully she didn’t have a problem, with the owl only flying away once Lilian had the letter. “ ‘From the office of Hogwarts’ Huh? <What are you>?” She then stood up and hissed with pain as she saw her shin, scrapped and bloody from the crash. Thankfully she didn’t have to walk far as she took her bike into the garage before walking into the house.

Once inside, and after treating her injury, Lilian sat in the living room with her pet cat Eleanor as she opened the letter. The letter itself looked old, yet she opened it anyway and pulled out the letter inside. “ ‘Dear Mrs. Le’Reau, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’? <What is that>?”

Lilian continued reading through the letter, not noticing until she was nearly tackled by her cousin that the front door had opened. “Whatcha got there, Lil? Some love letter o’ some blighter lookin ta court ye?” Abbigail Mckinley said, big grin on her freckled face. Lilian smiled, rolling her eyes as the back of her hand smacked Abby on the arm. “<Stop that>, Abby. It’s some letter for some place called-” “Hogwarts school o’ Witchcraft an Wizardry. Glad ta see you finally got the letter. Was startin ta wonder if they sent it through the Post.”

Lilian looked up to see her uncle Rorick standing with his hat and coat alongside her father, Daniel Le’Reau. “Well, It would seem you were right, Rorick. Glad I didn’t bet anything on that.”

“Bah, I won in spirit, Danny. Ye just don wanna admit it.” Rorick said with a nudge of his elbow. “Wait, what is Hogwarts? Why did I get this letter?” Lilian asked, perplexed by her father’s casual acceptance of this… Wizard letter?

“Ah ye see love… This is a letter for you to learn how ta be a witch like Abby here. Learn how to use your magical talent. Like yer normal school now, but with all the fairytale happenin’s ye’re so fond of.” Rorick said as he took a seat. Lilian simply stared at the letter, dumbfounded by this revelation and everything else that Rorick had to explain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lilian walked through the sliding brick wall, mesmerized and afraid at the same time. It was only a month ago in July that she had learned about Magic from her uncle and cousin, let alone seeing it in action. How else was she supposed to be taking this kind of information? Just accept that her favorite childhood stories could be real? That Eragon could possibly have existed in some way shape or form? That Lord of the Rings could have actually been a real battle covered up?

“Lil? Oi, cous, ye’er me?”

Lilian snapped back to reality, hearing her cousin’s voice. “<Excuse me>, it’s just...So much to deal with, Abby…” Abbigail simply grinned, pulling Lilian along. “Come on now, we’ve only jus started!”

The two went about, purchasing whatever they needed for school with Rorick nearby. The Auror simply smiled, following behind the two as he put all of their supplies in his bag. Thankfully, and mercifully, it was enchanted with an undetectable extension charm. He simply smiled as they went around with some money, buying what all they needed while he went to buy the rest of their school supplies that they would need.

Abby and Lilian continued walking around for a while, Abby finally letting go of her arm, when she bumped into someone causing them both to spill. “<I am really sorry! I should have watched where I was going!>” Lilian started speaking as she quickly scrambled to pick up the books and other supplies before they were ruined by the streets. Lilian had nearly picked up all of the books when she noticed the other girl simply staring, wide eyed with wonder at her. Lilian suddenly wished she didn’t have her hair in a ponytail, feeling very self conscious of herself until she heard the girl speak. “That… That was French! Oh my goodness you’re so fluent! I wish I'd be able to learn french! Oh uh, Sorry if I didn’t understand it though. I’m good with books, but not people. Sorry for bumping into you!” The odd girl with round glasses smiled as she stood up with Lilian and took back her books. “I’m Rowan Hubei Khanna! Pleasure to meet you…?”

“Aye, Tha’s me cousin Lilian, an I’m Abby McKinley!” Abby said with a big grin as Lilian stood by her side and nodded, smiling slightly to be polite. “<H-hello>…” Abby turned to Lilian confused and then realized. “Oh right, ya switch ta French when yer nervous. Sorry fer that, Rowan. Ya shoppin for Hogwarts too?” As if to answer Abby’s question, the three see a young man, his complexion and demeanor almost the same as Rowan’s. “Hubei, little help! I’m tipping I’m tipping!” He cried as he tripped on a loose stone, toppling his books and a couple of other boxes over the trio. The boy sat up and rubbed his head before readjusting his glasses. “Oh, are we making introductions? I’m Rowan Harrow Khanna! Just call me Harrow!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So ya two grew up on a tree farm? Seems a tad of a bore.” Abby said as the four children sat down at a nearby bench as they talked together.

“It’s really not that bad. Lots of reading and interesting stories!” Harrow said, followed by Hubei nodding enthusiastically. “It’s true! We get quite a lot of various people at the farm. Mom and Dad always say that we’re getting the entire world coming to buy their wand and broom wood.”

Lilian smiled. “That seems interesting. I’ve never heard of a tree farm for brooms and wands specifically. It must be exciting.”

The twins looked at each other and frowned. “Not really. More often than not, it’s kind of boring. Trees aren’t the fastest growing things.” “Yeah, for the most part we stayed inside to read and play wizard chess against each other. Harrow tried climbing a tree once. He was stung by so many Bowtruckles.”

Harrow’s face turned bright red as he turned to Hubei. “Did not! That was just the branches not being trimmed in a while…”

“Right, that’s why you screamed like a little girl. Haha dad had to levitate Harrow out of the tree!”

Lilian smiled at the two’s bickering when she noticed Abby looking down. She had forgotten how her cousin had lost her brother a while ago. She didn’t know how, but all she knew was that Abby’s big brother, Jacob McKinley, had run away and was never seen again.

Lilian put a hand on Abby’s shoulder, silently nodded and smiled. “You’ll find him, Abby. I know it.”

The two Khanna’s stopped their bickering and fell silent. Harrow was the first to speak “I’m sorry, we forgot about you being a McKinley…”

Abby shook her head. “Nah, ‘S fine. Jus comes with the territory. Come on, Lil. We should probably find Da an head home. Who knows what Hunin an Munin are doin right now.” Lilian nodded, bidding farewell to the Khanna siblings. As the two found Rorick, Lilian couldn’t help but hug them both. “<Thank you>, for everything you two are doing.”

Rorick chuckled. “Lass, we’re a family. We stick together, through the thick of it. Now then, how about we spoil yer appetite a bit a’fore we head on home, Eh?” Lilian and Abby grinned to each other, following Rorick’s lead to a nearby candy shop.

#part 1 #Lilian Le'Reau #Abbigail McKinley #Rowan Hubei Khanna #Rowan Harrow Khanna #Twin Khanna #Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery #HPHM #hphm mc

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etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years

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What He Wants (Pt. 8)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Summary: On going series of Bucky getting his shit together and falling in love with you.

Warnings/ Content: A bit of angstiness but not a ton and it ends with a sweet moment.

Word Count: 1341

Author’s Note: Hi Lovelies! So our boy has agreed to back home with you, yay! Let’s get his butt up and moving, shall we? Also, I apologize for the angsty bit in this part, it honestly made my heart hurt writing the one bit. Not as bad as when he took off towards those terrorists in part six, but it still made all sorts of sad. You’ll know it when you get there. Or maybe not and I’m just WAY too attached to the characters in my head LOL.

If you missed the first few parts, you can read them here: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

XOXO -Ash

What He Wants, Pt. 8

You’re as shocked by his concession as he is. “Okay.” You agree, finally breaking the contact. It had been more intimate than you intended and you shut down the twinges of desire that are flaring up. You return to your chair on the other side of his bed by the window and start making arrangements for him to travel back with you. Distracting yourself helps keep the shaggy haired soldier out of your mind for a moment so you can stop thinking about how handsome he looks sitting there all disheveled. It is beyond inappropriate but your body reacts to him in ways you had forgotten were possible. Damn hormones, you curse internally.

Bucky is having his own set of problems while he tries to look around the room instead of staring at you like he wants to. You are a mystery to him, you could be so soft one minute and then bitingly sarcastic the next. You have a temper which amuses him, he loves watching the apples of your cheeks flush when you snap at him for something. Before the war he would have done everything he could to charm a girl like you. All soft, feminine curves, begging to be worshiped, and that long curly hair he just wants to get his hands wrapped up in. He stifles a groan and pulls his eyes away from you yet again. You are trying to help him, nothing more, he reminds himself. You work with sad, broken, charity cases every day and you are just trying to make him your next project. He doesn’t deserve to think about you the way he has been for the past ten minutes. You would never want a basket case like him around long term. He’d probably be out on his ass in a week once you get tired of him. It is worth a shot though. He isn’t ready to face the Avengers again and it is a tempting offer of help that might actually do some good. Steve had pushed him to go to therapy for years between missions but he was never willing to trust he’d have the same luck Steve did with talking about his problems. Some demons need to just stay buried.

“Can I get you anything?” You ask him as you wrap up your message to Fury letting him know the change in travel plans.

“Nah, I’m okay, doll. Actually, yeah. What should I call you? I know Minerva is just a SHIELD alias”

You shake your head, you never use your name outside of your real life. “Nope, sorry Sergeant. You can call me Minnie like all my other friends.”

“Minnie, like the mouse. I can’t see that fitting.”

“Blame Michaels for it.”

Bucky chuckles, “Okay, mouse, when do we leave?”

Your body heats at the nickname, damn him for making it sound so intimate. “As long as you get discharged we can leave tomorrow. It’s a fourteen hour flight and we need to leave no later than noon. We’ll get into Philly around 8pm local time.”

“Well, let’s get the doc then. Get me cleared to go.”

You laugh lightly at his new found enthusiasm to go home with you. The sound hits Bucky in the chest like a grenade. He thinks it might be the most genuinely happy sound he’s ever heard. It’s pure like crystal bells and a deeply buried part of him wants to spend the rest of his life finding ways to have you keep making that sound. He fights to get himself under control, irritated you keep having an effect on him. You are out the door, off to find the doctor and he slaps his right hand against his forehead, trying to knock some sense into himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doctor clears Bucky after running through the basic vitals and checking on the rapidly healing wound. His only stipulation is that Bucky keeps his weight off of it for a few days until it has fully healed over. He warns Bucky that despite the serum he still might have a slight limp and he’ll need to be careful not to push his body out of alignment by catering to it.

The doctor is insistent on calling in two of the male nurses to help Bucky get up for the first time, just in case he falls. Bucky seethes with disapproval but he quickly realizes his right leg is completely useless for the time being. They give him a single crutch to tuck under his right arm and help support his weight. Relying on the crutch he hops a few steps forward with an awkward gait.

“It’s going to take some getting used to.” The doctor warns him, “I want you up and taking a walk for a few minutes every hour until you leave. The more mobile you are the better. And you’ll need to get up once an hour on the plane to avoid blood clots.”

Bucky just glares and grunts as he forces himself to hobble along. He hates the way your eyes looked at him so softly as he struggles to do something as simple as get himself to the bathroom. It is beyond demeaning and he feels like a complete disaster. Left arm missing, right leg useless for the time being, and his head all mixed up and fried from decades of ice and wiping. But he makes it to the bathroom and he slams the door behind him, needing a moment alone. Carefully lowering himself onto the closed lid of the toilet Bucky takes a bracing breath and finally lets himself break down. Tears flow endlessly, his shoulders shaking violently. It is all just too much. He shouldn’t be alive, he should be at peace with Steve and his ma and his sisters. But this world keeps pulling him back to fuck with him some more. He wants to believe in happily ever afters, but they weren't meant for guys like him. Slowly, he gathers himself back up, reigning in the burning in his chest and drying his eyes.

When Bucky exits the bathroom the two male nurses are waiting to ensure he makes it safely back to his bed and you are standing at the edge of it, waiting for him with your endlessly patient expression. He shuffles back slowly, but manages to get himself situated without help. It is a small victory and he’s glad for it.

You fight for control of your face, he doesn’t need to know the walls of the hospital are paper thin and you had heard every sob and sniffle he made. He especially didn’t need to know how those broken sounds had torn you apart limb by limb and it took every ounce of strength you had not to run to him. So you hand him his phone as if nothing is wrong and ask him casually what he is in the mood for, for dinner. The conversation is light and you’re determined to keep it that way. He deserves time to rest and relax, and you’re going to make sure he gets it.

It isn’t until late that night when he wakes up to catch you sleeping in the same wooden chair you’d been inhabiting all day that Bucky realizes you must have been staying with him since they’d brought him here. He wants you to have somewhere comfortable to rest, you don’t deserve to sleep awkwardly in a hard chair because of him. “Minnie” he whispers in the darkness.

“Hmm?” You wake up groggy, “Whatcha need, Buck?” You mumble.

No one but Steve had ever called him Buck but it sounds so perfect coming from your sleepy lips. “Why don’t ya go get in a real bed, doll? You can’t sleep there all night.”

“Hmm mmm. No. Not leaving you.” You protest sleepily.

“Damn stubborn woman.” He grumbles.

“Stupid man.” You reply before slipping back to sleep.

Bucky is irritated you’re staying in the chair but he is also exhausted and in the end sleep wins out.

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @amazonianbeauty @blacklightguidesnic @ladyemofhousestark @abswritesfandoms

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fandom #marvel fangirl #marvel avengers #post endgame #post avengers endgame #what he wants #series #part eight

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vein-amamiya · 4 years

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Desire...?

(edit: I’m mad I adjusted tags on mobile and it ate the story.) Something I threw together to give more important info on Avalon without just outright saying it. I don’t think it classifies as NSFW, but there is talk about sex in this. Nothing explicit tho! With that being said, hope you enjoy if you read!

Scenario: Avalon learns why certain things never clicked with her.

It never made sense. At first everyone thought it was just innocence, but… how can innocence even exist in a world like this? Inexperience? Naivete? It was all confusing. Whenever Seth, Yakumo, or even Rin dropped innuendos in a teasing manner, they went completely over her head, to the point where someone had to explain to her what they meant. Now, Avalon sits at the bar, reading a book she had taken from Louis’ infinite stash. Seth spots her after leaving the hot springs, a curious look on his face. He tries figuring out what book she’s reading as he approaches her. Avalon hears him approach, but doesn’t say anything.

“Whatcha readin’?” Seth asks as he takes one of the stools next to her. He leans to try to get a look at the cover, surprised to see it’s a book about sexual desire written by a psychologist. “Oho, so you’re finally interested in the birds and the bees? You could’ve just asked.” He comments, a smirk on his face.

Narrowing her eyes and with a slight blush on her cheeks, Avalon closes the book. “No, that’s… not why, actually.” Seth raises a brow as he listens. “This is hard to explain, um, I think there’s something wrong with me?”

Seth blinks, confused. “Wrong? Wrong how? I doubt that there’s anything wrong.” He widens his eyes slightly after a couple seconds. “Wait, do you think you’re-”

“Not gay, Seth.” Avalon cuts him off. “This book… it states that it’s natural to have some sort of ‘desire’ that varies from person to person. But… I don’t have that. It’s not a revenant thing because everyone else talks like they have it. The book implies I should have it by now, too. But, I don’t.” She runs a hand through her long hair. “It’s something I never felt comfortable with, never thought about, never really wanted to begin with.” She rests her head on her hands, while Seth grabs the book and skims through it, still listening to her. “I haven’t seen the book say why I feel like this, at least not yet. Is it just me? There’s gotta be something wrong with me right? I have to be broken or-”

“Stop.” Avalon looks at Seth, surprised by his change of tone. “Don’t say that. You’re not broken, there’s nothing wrong with you.” He closes the book. “I think I know what’s going on.” She stares, waiting for a response. He looks at her seriously. “I could be wrong, but you’re probably asexual.”

Avalon blinks. Asexual? Like with plants? It sounds familiar; there’s a chance she might’ve heard the word float around when she was still human and either didn’t pay attention or just forgot about it. “I… don’t understand.”

“There’s a very small mention in here, but it’s subtle, so it could easily be missed. But it’s basically what you said: you don’t have a desire for sex or anything of the like.” As Seth explained it to her, everything was slowly coming together for him as well. It’s why she never understood what they were saying, or why she tended to zone out whenever it came to that subject (it was rare, but happens nonetheless). “I know for a fact you’re not the only one, or else there wouldn’t even be a mention. It wasn’t as well known because not a lot of people understood it and instead thought it was something temporary, but it’s not.” He pushes the book to the side, and turns himself so his entire body is facing her. “There’s nothing wrong with you; you’re still normal, you’re still Ava.”

Avalon stares in bewilderment. So it was a different orientation, like being gay or bi, but instead of not having such attraction to the opposite sex, it’s not having it with anyone, or even at all. She was overwhelmed, and was tearing up slightly; Seth notices it too. “So, am I just… not gonna end up with anyone? I want to have a boyfriend at some point, but… I might let him down…”

Seth puts a hand on her shoulder for comfort. “People have different needs in a relationship. You just need to find the one that’ll fulfill yours.” He thinks about what he can do to help calm her down for the time being, as she just took in a lot of info. “We don’t have to think about everything right now, but know that I’m here for you, and I’ll keep it secret until you decide to tell everyone else. Do it at your own pace.”

“So, I don’t have to tell anyone right now?”

Seth shakes his head. “No, and don’t feel like you have to. I know because I’ve been in a similar situation. But if you do end up getting a partner, you’ll have to tell him at some point, but we don’t need to think about that right this minute.” Sighing, he removes his hand from her. “Wanna read some comics? I’ve found some issues I read and need to talk about it with someone.” He asks, a small smile on his face.

Avalon returns the smile, “Sure! I’ve been wanting to read more comics anyway!” She hops off her stool, Seth soon following.

She doesn’t need to figure out everything immediately. But now she knows, and while it is a lot to take in, she knows she has support and that nothing has changed.

#code vein #code vein scenario #code vein avalon #code vein seth #oc ; seth lowell #oc ; avalon ennis #code vein oc

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shipppersrus · 5 years

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The Kids Are Alright- Chapter 1, part 2

A/N:

Sorry for the late update! It was midterms week and I had a lot of papers to write and I changed the title because I thought it fit better! I hope you enjoy and I will definitely try and have an update for you on Wednesday or Thursday!

Clementine’s POV

I woke up to seeing Aj and Louis on the floor by my bed. Aj pulled his pillow and blanket off of his bed and Louis slept on his arm curled up by Rosie, it was the cutest thing. There light snores and the creaking of the old building filled the quiet building this morning. I adjusted in my bed trying not to wake them, but I guess I wasn’t quiet enough for Louis because as soon as he heard me shift he sat up to check on me.

“Hey you okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine. You guys look so cute down there.” I smiled at the sound of his sleepy voice, something I had never heard from him before.

“I thought I was always cute, that’s why you’re with me, right?” Louis did his Louis smirk to me and I rolled my eyes. He stood up and picked Aj up to put him in the bed before coming and sitting at the edge of mine. I watched Louis as he watched Aj sleep, I tried to read what his face was saying but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Hey, you okay?” I reached for his hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.” He still didn’t make eye contact with me but squeezed my hand back.

“What are you thinking about?”

“It’s just not fair, you know. A sweet kid like Aj having to make tough calls, doing the things he’s done, seeing the things he’s seen. When I was his age the only thing I was thinking about at his age was bugs, toys, and what I was going to eat for lunch. He doesn’t get to have that at least we knew that life before everything went to shit but he just never got that time.” Louis looked at me.

“You’re right, it’s not fair. I guess it’s easy for us too take that time for granted because it was short lived, but it still was something. I never wanted him to have to take life so soon, but unlike us he was built for this world while we had to adapt to it.” I sighed.

“Clem?” Louis turned to me.” Will you be honest with me, when I ask you this.”

“Ask me what?” I got a little nervous about what he was going to ask me.

“Did Aj have to shoot Tenn?” He looked at me very seriously.

“Yes. Louis you would have died if he hesitated. Why do you think I’d lie to you about that.” I tried to sit up but Louis stopped me.

“Why though? Why not Tenn? They were close, like really close Clem.”

“Well, Aj thinks differently than us, and like he said Tenn was living in a fantasy world that was getting people around him killed; he was becoming a liability. That was Aj’s first friend, I mean besides me and I know Aj loved him but Tenn was too innocent for this world and Aj cares just as much about you as he did about Tenn. Try not to dwell on it Lou, at the end of the day, he saved your life.”

“I can’t be mad at him for that. Clem I want to help more.”

“What do you mean.”

“I want to be here for the group, Aj, and for you. I want to step up and help more with anything you need.”

I smiled at him, everyday I see Louis get stronger and more capable; I got to say it was pretty hot.

“Umm Louis...well I know where you can start, would you mind helping me get to the bathroom?” I felt slightly embarrassed.

“Uhh yeah Clem.” He lifted me up and helped me to the bathroom door. “I must say this is not exactly what I had in mind for my first task…. Let me know if you need anymore help, or something.”

“Thanks I think I got it from here.” I hobbled in leaning on anything I could find. My leg being gone is going to be the death of me.

For the past two weeks I mostly stayed in bed becoming more and more mobile as the days went by. Louis and Aj were such a big help along with everybody else. I hadn’t seen Violet though I know she was working on recovering herself. Willy dropped off some crutches she got for me from the Nurse’s office for when I felt strong enough to move around. I wanted to do something special for Aj so I asked Willy if he would help me make a tire swing for him, it sucked I couldn’t physically do it myself. Most days I couldn’t help but stare at my stump and some days I could feel my missing foot as if it was still there. Louis was sweet enough to bring me books to read so I wouldn’t think about it so much and oftentimes I read Aj to sleep, well me or Louis. Aj and Louis definitely picked up a lot of slack since Vi and I have been down but the more time passes the more useless I feel. Every morning I wake up I’m staring at the ceiling and thinking about my life, when I was surviving I never had time to think it was about staying alive, but now I have all the time in the world to think and i’ve been thinking about everything… like why am I still alive yet so many others aren’t? How come the amputation worked for me and not for Lee? Did Gabe and Javier live through the war? Does anyone still need me anymore… does Aj still need me?... the more I thought the more I realized i’d rather be doing anything else. I’m getting out of bed if it kills me, I need to feel sunlight and warmth and not be in this stuffy room! I started to sit up, the bruises from my last fight just about healed and it was really my stump that was getting the better of me. The crutches were just by the bookshelf if I could just get there then I can finally get out of here. I started to maneuver myself out of bed as I stood, my leg was stiff and my joints along with it. I held onto the ladder as I made my way to the crutches As I started to do my little hop step I accidentally whacked my stump on the bedpost causing me to scream and tears to run down my face. I fell over and just laid on the ground as tears streamed down my face, I’m useless. I laid there for what felt like forever though it was probably 10 minutes before the door busted open, it was Louis. He immediately put the food down and came to my side.

“Clem, are you okay?” He stood over me, but I forced my eyes closed so he couldn’t tell I had been crying.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” I told him as I sat up still keeping my eyes closed.

“It’s my job to worry about you Clem.” He tried to help me up but I stopped him.

“I got it.” I pushed myself off the ground and found my balance before hopping back to my bed and plopping down.

“You know it’s okay if you don’t.” He said softly as he held onto the border for the top bunk.

“No Lou, not it’s not. I can’t survive like this! I’m a liability now.” I fought the frustrated tears that threatened to fall.

“No you’re not Clementine! Why are you telling yourself that, sure things will be a little harder for you, but you’re the toughest person I know. You’re needed around here, I need you.” Louis looked sadly at me. His words pushed all the air out my lungs.

“You-“

“No Clem, you don’t get it, before you got here everything was about survival. I started feeling like… well… maybe this is as good as it gets then I met Aj and though he was a piece of work he made me smile and laugh, then I met you… and your smile, everything about you told me there would be brighter days. Look what I’m trying to say is that I’ve never felt so alive, so human until I met you and you can’t think like that. This world needs you Clementine, not just me.” By now Louis was kneeling in front of me.

“I don’t know what to say Louis. Thank you.” I touched his face. As we slowly leaned in to kiss, our lips met and every single time it always made my stomach feel like I was on a roller coaster, I couldn’t imagine never not feeling this way. I didn't want to let go and I could tell he didn’t either. I never thought I’d experience this or feel this way about someone, but it was everything. We pulled away as we caught our breath from the kiss.

“I should get back, i'm on watch.” He didn’t move making me smile.

“You haven’t moved yet.” I called him out not wanting him to leave.

“Yeah, uh, right.” Louis slowly got up and made his way to my crutches. “You need some fresh air, come out today, I’m sure the others would like to see you.”

“Maybe I will.” I smiled.

Louis left leaving me to my thoughts. I don’t know what Love feels like but I think I’m starting to get it. I’m happy I didn’t die and all the days I get to spend with Aj and Louis will always be worth the sacrifice of only having one foot.

I picked up my crutches and made my way outside. I was almost excited to be free from my room, and to be around the other kids but I was nervous as well. I headed out and it was a really nice day. I love how warm it is and how bright the sun shines. I made my way to the couches and sat, most of the kids were outside the walls, so I thought I’d enjoy the quiet and watch Louis keep watch, from a distance. A little bit of time passed before the kids came back.

Ruby and Asaim were the first two in and they were holding hands. I was shocked, when did this happen?! I’ll have to ask Louis about it later. Next Omar came in and gave me a warm smile.

“Good to have you back Clem.” He lit his pot.

Willy gave me a wave and finally Aj came back in. I could tell he was in his own little world, but he seemed happy, at peace. He dropped off the fish and I made my way towards him.

“Whatcha doing there goofball?” He beamed.

Aj headed inside to go drop my hat off, I was glad he left when he did as a happy tear slipped out my eye. I wiped it quick before anyone noticed. Louis approached me with his card deck in his hand. I have a feeling this game is going to be very interesting.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

#clouis #clouis fanfiction #louisentine fanfiction #louisentine #clementine x louis #clementine twdg #aj twdg #louis twdg #twd spoilers #twdg fanfic #twdg fanfiction #the walking dead the final season #the walking dead game #twdg #take us back #twdg spoilers #still not bitten #The Kids Are Alright

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kellanswritingblog · 5 years

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Masquerade, a Zolf/Hamid fake dating AU

Chapter 2: A Quiet Evening

The festivities conclude for the evening, and Zolf is shown into Hamid's guest room for the night now that the assumption is going around that they are engaged. Cue bed sharing and an awkward confession from Hamid.

Continue reading below, or head on over to AO3!

Chapter 1 can be found at this link for AO3, and this link for tumblr <3

After a few more hours of chatting and mingling with still no sign of the plot against the various heads of state at the event, all of the guests were ushered out of the ballroom area to the attached wings where they were to spend the night. The next day would be full of ceremonies presenting heraldry and commendations of good deeds, followed by a secondary ball in the evening. The whole thing sounded dreadful boring to Zolf and he was almost grateful for the threat of impending doom to give him something else to do.

However, at that point, he was among the visitors led to the guest rooms alongside Hamid, while Sasha and Grizzop were nowhere to be found. A well-dressed butler addressed Hamid and directed the pair of them into a fancy bedroom.

“We were unaware that Mr. al-Tahan would be bringing a guest of his own to the events,” they said. “But we’ve changed around the rooms and brought your items up from the servants’ quarters, Mr. Smith.”

“Uh, thank you,” Hamid replied. He and Zolf stepped into the room and shut the door behind them.

“We’ve got to get in touch with Grizzop and Sasha,” Zolf remarked once they were inside, and began fumbling for the mobile stone in his pocket. “They should have contacted us if they found anything, but who knows with those two.”

After speaking into the stone and calling their names a few times, Grizzop’s voice emerged.

“Whatcha! Where are you two?”

“We’re in the guest wing,” Zolf explained.

“How’d you get there? I mean, I get Hamid, he’s a rich one. But what about you?”

“Uhh… there is an assumption going around that I am Hamid’s fiancé?”

Sasha interrupted the conversation. “Yeah, that’s a pretty common assumption.”

“Sasha!” Hamid interjected.

“Enough!” Zolf cried, and everyone went silent. “This isn’t important. We agreed that nobody ought to run off on their own, so this isn’t a bad thing. You two are good being sneaky types, and Hamid and I can mingle, and we all have backup if we can’t get to our mobile stones in time. Alright?”

“You got it, boss,” Sasha answered, though it was clear another snarky remark about Zolf and Hamid’s relationship was right on the tip of her tongue. Or, as snarky a comment as Sasha could make.

“Have you two found anything?”

“Not really,” Grizzop added. “Our best guess at a suspect is that shifty human fellow. Gideon, I think his name is.”

Hamid gasped. “Gideon!? He wouldn’t!” Then, he paused. “Okay, I take that back. I don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“We can keep an eye on him tomorrow,” Zolf said, offering Hamid a reassuring glance. “You two keep digging, see if you can find anything else suspicious. We’ll stick close to the noble types in case an assassin slips through the cracks.”

“Sounds good. So, you’re not coming back to the servants’ quarters tonight?” Grizzop asked. The Rangers had been set up in a separate room amongst the servants with small, scratchy bunks. They did the trick, but Zolf wouldn’t deny that the plush guest room was a significant upgrade.

“No, I’ll be staying up with the posh ones,” Zolf said.

“Dibs on top bunk!” Grizzop shouted, away from the stone and clearly intended for Sasha.

“We can each have a top bunk if neither of them is going to be here, you don’t have to call dibs,” she replied.

“Don’t care, I called dibs!”

Zolf interrupted their bickering, despite shaking his head and smiling. “Have a good night, you two. We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

A yelled response was muffled through the sounds of Grizzop still squealing about how he’d claimed the top bunk and Sasha couldn’t get him down, he was finally tall, and he would not relinquish this lofty position. Zolf stowed the stone away in his pocket and turned to the room.

Oh yeah, it was definitely an upgrade. His and Hamid’s rucksacks had been placed with unnecessary carefulness against a far wall, across from the… single bed.

“I can sleep on the floor, I don’t mind,” Hamid murmured as he followed Zolf’s gaze. He’d already discarded his jacket and tie and was rummaging in his bag for his pajamas, yawning. Socializing was hard work.

“Hamid, please. I think we can share a bed.”

“I just feel bad for roping you into all this.”

“Like I said before, it’s fine. Besides, with who knows what plot being hatched, it’s not a good idea for anyone to run off on their own. And having me as your fiancé is hardly the most ridiculous scheme you’ve ever come up with,” Zolf teased, and Hamid smiled back.

“Well, I’m not sure about that, but if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Besides, this bed is human sized. We probably won’t even realize someone else is there.”

Hamid chuckled and didn’t press the matter further. They both got themselves ready for bed and crawled under the covers.

It went against all of Zolf’s instincts to pass up investigating during the night, but they needed their rest if they were to be at full strength the next day and there wouldn’t be much opportunity for them to sneak off during the festivities.

“Don’t you want to know what I did? At university?”

His voice shook as he spoke. There were no lights on in the room, and, with his dark vision, Zolf could barely make out the way Hamid’s face was scrunched up as if with physical pain.

“Honestly? It really doesn’t matter to me. But, you obviously want it off your chest, so go ahead.”

“I hurt people. I killed people. It was just supposed to be a prank, but I messed up the formula, and then Gideon-”

“The Gideon with Liliana?”

“Yes. That Gideon. He doubled all the quantities and it… it went wrong. It killed people.”

“That’s how you got kicked out of university?”

Hamid nodded.

“Gideon got kicked out too?”

“No, he… they didn’t realize he was involved.”

“And he didn’t fess up? Doesn’t sound like he was a very good friend.”

Hamid sighed and chuckled breathily. “I don’t know if he ever was.”

“And… Liliana?”

“She dumped me when I was thrown out. Can’t say I blame her.”

“She has no right to speak of you that way,” Zolf snapped. “She shouldn't be that rude to you.”

“I don’t know…”

“No, Hamid, listen. Nobody has the right to be that crass toward you. I meant what I said. You are an incredible person and whatever mistake you may have done doesn’t change that. Even if you’d meant to kill all those people, I’d say you’ve more than made up for it, but you didn’t, it was an accident. I get feeling guilty, but you’re not at fault, and you’re not a bad person. You’ve changed the world, so many times. And you’ve definitely changed my world.”

Zolf bit his lip with those last words, and he noticed a blush form in Hamid’s cheeks in the darkness of the room.

“For the better, I hope?” Hamid said quietly.

Zolf laughed. “Please tell me that’s not a serious question.”

“Thank you, Zolf. I don’t think I could do any of this without you.”

“Likewise. Now, get some sleep. We’ll need our rest for tomorrow.”

#rqg #rusty quill gaming #rqgaming #zolf smith #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #zamid #riverbank #sasha racket #grizzop drik acht amsterdam #rqg fic #I'm sorry this update is kind of late!#I had family stuff pop up #tomorrow should be earlier

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boneshine · 5 years

Text

Close Call

Pairing: Benjamin Clawhauser / Chief Bogo

Rating: M

Summary: Bogo confiscates Clawhauser’s phone in order to make him more productive at work. Established relationship. Post-Movie.

Warning: NSFW! Details under the cut!

Part Three/Five

- - -

Warning: This is a NSFW story, although the adult content does not really begin until Part Five. That being said, this is still an M-rated story, so read at your own smut-loving risk.

- - -

"You remember the rules, Clawhauser?"

"Ye-e-e-e-es," Clawhauser groaned out for the third time.

"Which were... ?"

The cheetah refrained from rolling his eyes. "To do my job without my phone for two complete work days, starting today. Without complaining!" he added tersely at Bogo's look.

"I wish we could have also agreed on this being done without attitude."

"Not likely." The cheetah had been in a bad mood since they drove in together, and it showed. He didn't bother to look at his superior and remained leaned over his desk, chin propped on his arms and staring at the landline phone, his only solace.

Rather than showing annoyance at his behavior, the buffalo chuckled, and his look softened. "Ben..."

Clawhauser's ears perked, though his expression did not. "What?"

A warm kiss was pressed against his cheek and the cheetah jolted and stared up at his chief in surprise. Public affection at work was not common.

"What... ?"

Bogo smiled. "Don't slump. It makes you look unapproachable."

Clawhauser glared and resumed his sullen position. "I'll be sure to write that down," he muttered.

"Good. I'll come and get you when your shift is up." A hoof carded itself affectionately down flattened ears in farewell and Bogo had the gall to wave at the feline as he strolled away. "Remember! No complaining!"

He mouthed his boyfriend's last words mockingly as his eyes roamed around his tiny workspace. He hadn't realized before how cramped it felt. Two days without his phone... How on earth could he pass the time?

I know HOW I would do it... I would be doing my daily blog-scrolling routines... Log in to my Rumblr account... Check e-mails... And texting my friends! Clawhauser suddenly dug his claws into the desk in a panic. Oh, no! My friends! They don't even know that I'm alive! I haven't texted them in hours! I'm as good as dead! My social life is flat-lining! He groaned and pressed his face against the counter. My boyfriend is so cruel!

Yes, his lover may have had a point that he relied too heavily on social media and technology in general and was trying to teach him to focus on real emergencies, but he just wanted to be mad!

Meanie-mean Bogo!

No! No, he couldn't just roll over and surrender in despair! Clawhauser huffed and shook his head. He would show him! He could do anything he wanted-- within reason of his job and the bet! And as there were no calls yet, he could... he could...

The thought hit him like a bolt. I'll clean my office! He eyed the messy piles of paper strewn about the desk, and winced at the hordes of sticky notes that lined his file cabinet and walls like a colorful disease that only grew from the first reminder. Ever since he could recall, he never found the time to clean (half of the notes were reminders to clean, actually.)

But now, thanks to his merciless chief, he had more time than he knew what to do with...

Determination set in and the feline cracked his paws and got to work.

It had felt like a blur of productivity, unexpected and almost magical in its unfamiliarity, and time ceased to exist until Clawhauser blinked and it was done.

It was... astonishing. Without a text or videos to distract him, he found that it was surprisingly easy to focus on any task he set out for himself. Who would have thought? He couldn’t let Bogo know how effective this torture was.

He felt quite proud as he admired his work.

It almost didn't look like his office. His files were organized in alphabetical order, his Inbox and Outbox were sorted and placed in the appropriate piles, his doughnuts had been eaten according to deliciousness (toughest job yet), and he even swept up all the crumbs he left as a result of his hard work.

There! The cheetah preened. It had taken all his focus and all of his snacks, but he did it. The workplace hadn't looked so clean in years!

That HAD to kill a few hours! Clawhauser beamed and looked at the clock behind him.

Thirty minutes had passed.

His spirit was crushed. "Oh, come ON!" he groaned and dropped his head on the table. An ache had settled itself unpleasantly in his brain, with an incessant tapping noise in his ears...

That turned out to be a paw viciously knocking against his workspace.

"... 'Scuse me... Ah said EX-CUSE me, young man!"

Clawhauser's head shot up and he turned to stare at the particularly cross face of an opossum standing before his desk.

"Can... I help you with something, ma’am?" He cautiously leaned over his desk. Trying to chat up coworkers was one thing, but unpleasant citizens were another matter entirely, and he could easily tell by the impatient way she was tapping her foot that she would be quite a handful. Public service. My absolute favorite and least favorite part of the job... he lamented.

"Yes, you can!" she drawled out. "You can help me by explainin' THIS ticket!"

A paper was shoved at the cheetah's face and he leaned back, eyes crossed to try and see it.

"I wasn't gone for more than five minutes an' I found this on my car! What, you officers got nothin' better ta do than ta bother me an' my boy while we're visitin' relatives?"

He winced internally. Oh, nooo. A ticket tantrum. Easily the worst thing to deal with in his job were those who were unhappy with parking tickets. They had nothing to lose because they spent all their energy complaining about a small piece of paper. Most of them had to be held in contempt by the end of the argument. They even had a special cell. Well, it would take a few minutes to file out the paperwork...

"Are you listenin' to me?!"

I hope someone's swept the cell.

The feline realized he had been lost in thought and he held up his hands in surrender. "Ma’am, I'm terribly sorry, but I don't have any authority on parking tickets. But I can direct you to someone--"

"Darn right, you can!"

His headache began to worsen. Clawhauser took a deep breath and kept his smile on as he pointed up several levels. "Chief Bogo actually assigns parking duties," he chirped out forcibly, "Why don't you speak to him directly? I'm sure that he isn't busy, and he will be oh-so delighted to address your problem! That's what we're here for at the ZPD! Listening to every complaint from very citizen, at any time of the day!" It wasn't as hard to keep the smile on his face now.

He didn't say anything about others complaining...

The opossum squinted up at the spiral that led to the chief's office and huffed in annoyance. "Fine! I'll give that police chief a piece o' my mind!" she hissed and began to stomp off.

Relief flooded Clawhauser, but realized that her son remained by his desk, idly thumbing his phone. "Ma’am, your son--"

"Watch him, will ya?"

"... Excuse me?"

The mother turned to eye him with a pinched frown, clicking her tongue. "He ain't no trouble since he got that dang game on his phone. He don't need ta hear what Mama's gonna say in there. Jus' keep an' eye on him 'til I get back."

"Well, I just-- I have to do my job and--"

"Yer job is helpin' with the public! So help! Ripley!" she barked. "You stay there an' don't get in trouble, ya hear?"

"A'right, Mama," the boy mumbled, still staring at his screen.

"Good boy. Mind the officer."

Clawhauser attempted to speak, but the opossum had scurried away before he could even form a retort. He glanced at the child nervously. His job didn't involve babysitting!

"So... Ripley... Rip," he began, "How has Zootopia been so far?"

The boy didn't look up. "S'good," he drawled.

The cheetah blinked at the flippant response. Had he looked up from his phone since they showed up? Is that how I look when I'm on my phone? he suddenly worried. It seemed like it would be tougher to keep the conversation going than he thought. "Anything exciting catch your eye?"

"Nah."

"... Any sights you're looking forward to seeing?"

The boy shrugged.

Clawhauser's lip twitched in annoyance. His eyes fell back on the phone. He tried a direct approach. "Whatcha playing there?"

The child stopped in surprise and stared at him. "Ain't it obvious? M' playin' the new PokeMan Stop game!"

"PokeMan Stop?"

"Wh... Yeah, PokeMan! Gotta git 'em all? PokeMan Stop? Ya can't stop once ya go?"

Times were changing so fast. He remembered playing the games on his GameBoar but the mobile app? How could he forget? It had spread across the globe with a ferocity he could not have anticipated. Everyone had tried it... Many officers on the force were often being scolded for playing it while on duty. He couldn't begin to list all of the jaywalkers and trespassers that had been taken into the station from searching for PokeMan at two in the morning.

"Hey!" Clawhauser looked down as he recalled the boy. "Ya ain't never played it?"

"Oh! Yes, I... I tried that a few times, but... heh," a sheepish expression overcame the cheetah's face, "WAY too much walking for my taste--"

Suddenly, the boy's phone vibrated, and he lifted his eyes to stare across the station.

"Wow!" he squeaked and pointed at the door that led down to the interrogation rooms. "There's a CharMan over there! Omigosh! I been lookin' for one o' those forever!" He bolted toward the door. "I bet it's a super-shiny one! Them's the best!"

"Whoa, whoa, kiddo! No! No!" Clawhauser somehow managed to launch in front of the boy and block the entrance. "I'm sorry, but that area is authorized just for officers!"

The opposum stared at him. "Wuzzat mean?"

"Eh... If you don't have a badge, you can't go in."

"Oh, I got lots of badges!" He grinned and showed the flashing virtual badges on the screen. "See? One fer water-types an' one fer walkin' all day an' one fer--"

A sigh escaped the feline. "I meant a REAL badge. Like this one." He pointed at his own.

The bright, excited expression on the child's face melted into disappointment. "Oh..." He glanced down at his phone, then forlornly at the door the cheetah blocked. "Well... if'n... if I can't go in there... I'll never find another CharMan..." Black, beady eyes suddenly lit up and he smiled at Clawhauser. "Hey! You work fer the ZPD! Yer able ta go in there, ain't ya?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Yeah!" The opossum vibrated with glee. "You can go in there an' catch it fer me! Please?"

Alarm bells rang in the feline's head. "Me? Go in there with... your phone... That's just... um... You know, normally, I would, I really would, but," Clawhauser stammered, trying to break it gently to the child, "I... There's this thing and... I can't, really... I'm not allowed to--"

"B-But it's a real rare one!" the boy exclaimed. His tiny ears drooped. "I never seen one where I live!"

Uuuuugh! No! Nooo! I can't stand to see a kid cry!

"I... guess one... teeny... tiny... super-fast... quick look wouldn't hurt," he managed out.

The child beamed and held his phone out. "Thanks, mister!"

Clawhauser forced a smile as he took the device. The cool press in his palm was long-missed and he felt his heartbeat quick as he looked at the screen. THis was too much temptation. What if Bogo found out--

No! He could do this! For the ZPD!

"So... just over here..." The cheetah opened the door and slipped inside, looking around. He could see it on the screen, a human figure that sat in the middle of the hall, a lit cigarette in its hand. The PokeMan scratched its scruffy beard and puffed out a cloud of smoke as it impassively watched the "trainer" approach.

"Char, man..." it drawled out.

Clawhauser tilted his head. Huh... I remember that one being very controversial when I was a cub.

"Git it! Git it!" Ripley cried from the doorway.

"Oh, right!" Clawhauser flicked his paw over the screen and watched as the PokeSphere bounced off and enveloped the smoky creature in light. A short, virtual chime of coughing indicated victory.

The child whooped, his small fist jerked up in the sky. "YEAH! Ya got 'im!"

"I did!"

"Thanks a bunch! Can I see?"

"W-Well, no, wait..." Clawhauser knew he was pushing his luck, but he had gone ten hours without his phone... "There might be another one over here somewhere. I should go take a quick peek! There's no harm in that!" His job was to serve others, after all.

"Wh-- huh?"

"Just being thorough, little guy! You can never tell where one can end up!" The cheetah smiled at walked out, the phone out of the child's reach as he began his 'search.' "Lots of areas that you can't enter. Can't stop once you go, right? I think I can start with the boiler room, and then the administration office..."

"Hey!" The opossum scurried after the officer. "B-But I didn't see none else!"

"Oh, I saw one! It was over here, by my desk! Yes, I can see it now..." Clawhauser held the screen up and pointed to the dark, shifting figure. "It's a large one! It... It obviously works out. The muscles on it are just-- Wow, graphics get better and better," he mumbled, "Helllllllo, where were you when I was playing all those years ago, handsome?"

"Watching you lose your bet," it drawled, suddenly out of the screen and looming over the cheetah.

The feline's fur exploded in fear. "AHH! CH... Chief Bogo!" he shrieked.

Bogo's narrowed eyes dug into his soul.

Think! Think! Oh, you're so-o-o-o dead! So very dead! Dead! Clawhauser managed to utter out a small, short, quivering laugh as he handed the phone back to the child. "AND that's how you play PokeMan Stop, little mister! Haha... Always h-happy to help... Tutorials and... whatnot..."

The buffalo shook his head.

"So-o-o... What's the occasion, my revered boss?" he chirped.

That made Bogo's glare return. "I had a pleasant chat with Delilah. She was a... delight," he bit out.

"What?"

"Ripley!" The mother, noticeably happier, popped up behind him and strolled around to her son. "C'mon! I've said my piece! Let's go git some ice cream, yeah?"

"Awesome!" Ripley cheered and immediately followed her, turning to wave at the cheetah. "Bye, mister! Thanks fer catchin' tha' CharMan!"

Clawhauser waved weakly. "Hah... No problem, kiddo..."

The doors slid shut and the furry officer was left with a seething buffalo to contend with.

Cripes.

He thought he could go on the defensive, speaking first. "It wasn't what it looked like!"

"Don't give me that."

"But I really wasn't going to take it at first!" Clawhauser immediately defended. "I was on a solid foundation of NO, but he started to look really sad and he called me Mister, so it crumbled into a heap and I needed to help him--"

"I could see you were very keen on helping yourself to his phone."

"He asked me!"

"You went above and beyond, then. Even sent his mother to barrage me with rustic insults. Nice touch."

"Okay-y-y, how about this? Would you believe that I blacked out from boredom and I woke up with the phone in my hand and in my disoriented state--"

"Clawhauser..."

He winced. "I'm sorry."

It was a long stretch of silence, but the chief finally relaxed his pose and sighed. "I suppose that I can't really count that as the end of the bet," he rumbled, "I know you can't stand to see a sad child."

"Wh-- So... the bet's still going?" He didn't know if he could count it as luck.

"I'm afraid so." Bogo smirked and pat his lover's back to lead him back to his work station. He lifted him up with ease and plopped him down on the chair. "You still have five hours before your shift is over, Ben. And don't forget. I'll be watching."

Clawhauser's eyes grew and quivered in horror. "Don't make me hate that line! I've loved every other time you've said it!"

Four hours, 59 minutes, and 10 seconds later...

Bogo strolled down to his lover's work station, ready to take him home. He had kept his promise and checked up on the feline, usually peering out from his office above, but it seemed that his little phone-addict had learned his lesson. The cheetah had seemed able to keep himself away from any other civilian phones. Come to think of it, he hadn't really moved from his seat since he had left him...

And as he walked up to the feline slumped over in his chair, a computer manual placed on his face, it was clear why.

"Really?" he drawled as he approached his comatose lover. "That's all you've done since I've left?"

Silence answered him.

"I know you're not sleeping."

No answer.

"Ben, it's time to go."

"Your boyfriend isn't here-e-e-e," the pages of the book fluttered on his face, the voice warbling spookily, "You've killed him with your tyrannical rules. You're speaking to his ghost now. O-o-o-o..."

Torn between amusement and rolling his eyes, he snorted. "Ben--"

"The spirit is angry with you-u-u..."

"Ben, knock it off."

"He died from boredom... Poor soul just wanted his phone, you know, because it was such a slo-o-o-ow day at work. Whoo-o-ooo-ooo... Give his phone back for clo-o-osure and he will not ha-a-a-aunt you..."

The buffalo chuckled and lifted the book off his head, smirking at his lover's narrowed eyes. "I'll risk a haunting."

"Suit yourself."

"I have to admit, you did a fairly good job today," he praised the cheetah, reaching out to ruffle irritated, twitching ears. "You answered the phone promptly with no distraction."

"The two times that it rang," Clawhauser grunted.

"You managed to keep yourself from 'helping' that muskrat with his phone when he forgot it on your desk."

"Um, because it was ancient. Sliding keypad and giant buttons? I'm not THAT desperate."

"Nonetheless," Bogo pressed on, "I believe that our bet is working."

Clawhauser groaned. "Of course it worked! There was nothing else to focus on! Anyone can do their job if it's between that and being bored out of their mind the entire day!" he hissed. "And I was STILL bored!"

"But you DID do your job promptly," Bogo added not-so-helpfully.

His boyfriend turned and headed to the doors. "Let's just hurry up and leave so I can passive-aggressively ignore you on the ride home."

"You can sweet-talk all you want, but you still have one more day."

Clawhauser spun around, a whimper in his voice. "Vincent, I don't think I can take another day! I think I really can't! I heard text alerts around me come from thin air! My paws kept swiping on my desk! When I close my eyes, I see furmojis! My ears are ringing, and the message says Call Waiting!"

"Ben, calm down."

Claws dug into his uniform and the buffalo stared down at the desperate face of his lover. "Have mercy, Chief! I'm just a cheetah!"

But Bogo was unconvinced. "One more day, Ben."

Clawhauser whined and pressed his face against his firm chest and received 'comforting' pats on his head in exchange for his whimpers.

#Close Call #ClawBogo #BoHauser #Zootopia #Fan fiction #FINALLY #I referenced PokemonGo do you see how outdated this is?#also i heart italics

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Eighty-Two: Stubborn Old Mule ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

Tch...stubborn old mule…

Resisting the urge to grit his teeth (even the most subtle of gestures is hard to hide in a coven of vampires - their keen eyes miss little), Sasuke keeps up his typical facade until back in his car and pulling away from the Senator’s headquarters.

It’s then he lets loose a rare display of temper, smacking a hand against the steering wheel with a grunt.

Madara’s not listening!

Though he seems to believe Sasuke’s tale about the witch, he’s done little of anything to show he’s taking such a concern seriously. At least he gave permission to use on-duty time to tail and monitor her, as well as the time of others to look into the old miko bloodlines to try and root out any other possible witches. But he himself hasn’t done a damn thing to give any indication he’s involved!

Scowling, Sasuke has to mind his foot on the pedal. He’s been too caught up with that harpy hybrid he discovered - and all by complete accident. His fascination with such things is...obnoxious, to say the least.

Sure, a Nightwalker as old as Madara has little to worry about. But he’s a Senator, damn it! He oversees and represents every one of their kind within Japan’s jurisdiction! He might attend the monthly gatherings, and the yearly one in London...but he’s been leaving more and more of his typical duties in the hands of his Enforcers. Those like Sasuke, his brother Itachi, and their cousin Shisui. His top officers that help toe the line between humans and monsters.

...Sasuke hates that word. After all, he’s seen plenty of humans do monstrous things. As old-fashioned as it might be, he prefers the archaic terms: Nightwalkers and Daywalkers.

...and Twilightwalkers, as he’s just discovered recently.

For a while he drives rather aimlessly, mostly just using time to brood over what Madara’s done...or rather, not done, as of late. Attacks from Nightwalkers - especially vampires - against humans has been on a slow but steady incline. And yet he seems so uninterested!

It’s so infuriating!

Long ago, Sasuke learned to take his job seriously. And at this point, he’s half-wishing the old bastard would just retire and let someone new take the seat.

Preferably someone like his brother. Itachi’s a model keeper of the mandates, and a great compromiser and strategist. There’s no one - in his (rather biased) opinion - more suited for the job.

But that’s the thing...Nightwalker Senators rarely retire. For most, the only incentive to remove themselves...is to be removed.

And good luck killing Madara.

Not that Sasuke condones murder and assassinations. But he’s not stupid - he knows that’s largely how the Senate has worked since its founding. Look at those like London’s vampiric Senator! He founded the damn thing and still serves!

Realizing he’s getting too worked up to drive, Sasuke takes a deep breath and pulls to a curb, dragging a hand down his face as the other continues to grip the wheel.

He needs a vacation. But he also knows he’ll never consent to take one. Not with things as they are. Those like Sasuke are more necessary than ever now.

Besides, he knows if things get bad enough, Itachi will drag him away as he always does when he needs - really needs - a break.

For now, he decides to kill two birds with one stone: a few hours of his night taken easy, and checking up on his witchy woman.

...the witchy woman. He’s just...the only one keeping tabs on her at the moment. Sasuke doesn’t really...trust anyone else to do it.

He shoots her a text asking her where she is, turning off the engine in the interim. A few minutes pass before she replies.

Apparently she’s gone to a movie with a group of friends.

Ah, right...it’s Saturday night. Of course she’s out doing something.

Before he can ask where, she counters with, Do you need to see me?

His brows lift just a hair. Well, no...he doesn’t need to. He just...should.

It’s been a few days. While it sounds like she’s safe, he just...should make sure. He’s responsible like that.

And it’s not like anyone else is taking this seriously…

No need, just checking in if you have a few minutes

As it just so happens, just a few blocks away, Hinata checks her phone and receives said message. Thankfully the rest of her friends are too excited discussing the plot twist ending of the movie to notice she’s texting someone other than one of them. Which...are her few and only friends.

It makes her snort softly. So it’s not necessary, per se...he’d just appreciate it. This guy sure is clingy...maybe she’s underestimated how important she and her powers are? Or maybe he’s just bored. Could be a slow few days for a monster police officer, so...he’s just twiddling his thumbs and checking up on his local human-not-human.

Or something like that.

Okay - meet you at that same coffee shop? I’m like 2 blocks away, could be there fast

“Heyyy, whatcha doin’?”

Stiffening, Hinata looks up from her mobile, spying one of the girls looking back at her. “Oh, uh...c-checking in with a project partner.”

Lips purse...but thankfully don’t pester her further.

“Um...you guys head back, I’m gonna meet them. They’ve been grinding out a presentation off campus, so I’ll just...swing by and then head home.”

“You sure you’re okay walking alone?”

“They’ll go with me! Just gonna meet them there, then we’ll both go back.”

Everyone exchanges a look, and she instantly reads it.

“I’m n-not going to get mugged again!”

“Okay, okay! We just worry, ne?” Text us when you’re leaving so we know you’re on your way, okay?”

For a moment, Hinata can’t help a stab of emotion - it’s not often she’s made to feel included, a bit of a black sheep in her group. “...I will. Thanks guys - see you later.”

Wanting to make good on her word, Hinata scurries to the shop in question, seeing a familiar dark car along the curb. Seems he beat her here - was he already nearby?

“Hey.”

Jumping a little bit as a voice greets her as soon as she opens the door, Hinata blinks. “H...hey. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, just out on patrol. Thought I’d check in. You good?”

“Um...yes? Nothing out of the ordinary’s happened lately...unless you count actually getting out of my d-dorm strange.”

To her surprise, that earns a small snort. “Well, at least you’re making things easy on me.”

“...you’re welcome?”

“Hn.”

Brow wilting as a silence grows, she asks, “Is...everything okay with you…?”

“Me?”

“Yeah - you, um...you feel...stressed?”

“Is mind reading one of your special little powers?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

For a moment, Sasuke eyes her critically before sighing, glancing aside. “...my boss is being...irritating.”

“Oh...aren’t m-most bosses that way?”

“Maybe, but few hold as much power as this one, and he’s misusing it. Or rather, just...not using it when he should. But don’t worry about that - I’m...handling it.”

“Um...well, okay.” A pause. “...I know, um...you’re the one that’s supposed to be protecting me, but...if I can help, then -”

“Trust me, there’s not much one little witch can do. At least, not anything that wouldn’t put you in an absurd amount of danger. And I’m not gonna do that.”

“...well, I meant more in a ‘you can talk to me if you need it’ kind of way, but...what else could I do?”

That earns another glance. “...like I said, nothing I’m willing to risk exposing you to. For now, I just...need you to keep low. Maybe let me know if anyone else in your family comes forward with powers like yours. Or if anyone Nightwalker bothers you.”

There’s a slight pout at that, but she nods. “...okay.”

...this isn’t killing as much time as he wants, nor is it helping to take his mind off Madara. “...well, you should get back. Want me to drive you?”

“Um…” Hinata bites her lip. “...I dunno? That...wasn’t exactly missed last time, and if it happens again -”

“Right, right...well I can’t let you walk back alone. I’ll take you close, but not up to the building. I can watch from there, make sure nothing happens.”

“Oh...okay.”

The ride back is mostly silent, and Sasuke pulls alongside another dorm before letting her get out. “Guess I’ll check in again later. And tell me if anything strange happens.”

“Okay...though I can’t help but hope it won’t.”

“You and me both.” Once she’s out, he slowly pulls around to make sure she makes it to the door, then takes his leave to actually patrol. For once...he can’t help but almost wish for trouble. Just to give him something to do.

...maybe he’ll talk to his brother later.

Itachi always knows what to do.

Woo, done with half an hour to spare until bedtime! GOLLY today was a long, tiring day...but hey, we're here! More of the Nightwalkers crossover, which is turning into a mini-series within a series, haha! Sasuke, it seems, is starting to get lonely and actually miss his little tagalong...or rather, he's more hers, if anything. But at least Hinata doesn't seem to mind...so long as it doesn't get her back into the gossip circles. She can't really explain being a witch and friends with a vampire, after all. Anywho, that's all for tonight! Time to check comments and then head to bed. Thanks so much for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #of monsters and men [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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grandthorkiday · 5 years

Text

Mob AU! “Playthings” Part 5

[Link to mob!au anon’s “Playthings" fic tag]

[Start at Part 1]*

(*Note: Link is editable for other parts, just change the number. For mobile users, tag is “playthings part1”)

Thor swiped through his phone idly. They were finally making their way back to New York after the week away. Grandmaster was beside him in the back seat of the town car, also on his phone, speaking quietly to a business associate. Which business, legal or otherwise, he really didn’t care. He was being ignored for the time being; a thrilling and devastating respite from the man’s near constant attention over the week.

He thumbed through his gallery once more, stopping on a picture of Loki he had taken a few months ago. Unlike the numerous ‘fun’ photos he had of his brother, where the younger man smiled or posed or sent the camera a funny face, this picture was quiet. He probably didn’t know it had been taken. He was sitting in their private room in one of numerous hotels they called home. He was at the window, the evening light pouring in behind him as he read. No Grandmaster or his entourage peeping just barely within frame. No opulent sign of wealth. One could hardly tell it was in hotel at all. In this picture, his brother was freer than he had been in the last ten years. It took all Thor’s strength not to kiss the treasured picture.

Gast was concluding his phone call. Thor quickly switched albums on his phone to screenshots of items he ‘wanted’. He was supposed to be one of a pair of dumb sugar babies most of the time, after all. ‘His bimbo,’ as Grandmaster liked to cheekily remind him. ‘My spoiled little Princesses.’

“At least ‘the shipment’ is coming in on time. 'The batch’ is going to be delayed another three days because, I dunno!” Gast threw his head back dramatically as he put away his phone. “I give clear instructions and I am just surrounded by…” he drifted off. He did this often, when inconveniences happen. He would forget about it seemingly, never bring it up again. Until inconvenience led to incompetence.

He leaned over and put his head on Thor’s shoulder, glancing at his phone. “Whatcha looking at?” It was said flirtatiously, a hand once again creeping to his thigh.

Thor showed him the VR headset and controller he had saved. He made his eyes as wide and clueless as possible. “It’s only 199.”

“For everything? All the bits and bobs?”

He shrugged.

“Hmm, I could get you that, if you wanted. Or, or I could take you boys to the Caribbean again.”

“I think we’d prefer Disneyworld.” It was veiled sarcasm, but anything would be better than being in New York.

[read more cut]

“Well, maybe if my boys are good…,” he shrugged. They would probably get both, and the trip to the Caribbean so Gast could do his offshore banking. He doted on them when business was good, mostly to spend some of over accumulating wealth. Don’t want the IRS sniffing around.

When they finally made it back to the Gladiator Hotel, the doorman greeted Gast with his customary jolly manner. As always, the Grandmaster told him a joke and slipped him a twenty as he held his sides with laughter. The doorman spared not a glance at Thor. Even when Thor left on morning runs or to perform some errand, he barely seemed to register he existed. He was just 'one of the boys’.

The penthouse as always was already full of people. The usual group; the top Lieutenants and a few of their mistresses, a few people hoping to get some sort of favor, and of course the penthouse crew. Bodyguards and delivery men that practically lived on site. Most did. Who wouldn’t want to live in a penthouse? Or even under one?

“The gang’s all here!” Gast called. Everyone greeted him warmly and with loud cheers. A few of penthouse crew were on one of the numerous game consoles 'the boys’ owned. They waved and called like the rest but continued to play. Thor felt a strange possessive need to rip the controller out of their hands. That was his and Loki’s! It was a gift! A gift for…

For being good.

He settled in on one of the chairs at the drink bar that was along the opposite wall and tried to ignore the sound of gameplay.

“It’s good to be home!” Gast smiled as one of the women in the room pressed a drink into his hand. Then he frowned. “Something’s not right.”

Everyone went tense. They didn’t move a single muscle. They barely moved their eyes.

“Where’s Lo Lo?”

Thor’s mind snapped to attention. He began to look around the room. By now, Loki would have come out from their private room. No matter how beaten, no matter how scared, he would have come. He would play his part, leaping into the Grandmaster’s arms, asking if he had been brought a treat. Sometimes he would shyly walk out of the room, needing to be tugged into the embrace. Other times, when Loki was feeling bold, he would walk out wearing one of the numerous 'outfits’ that they had. Costumes that either left little to the imagination or clothing from Thor and the Grandmaster’s closet.

But Loki was not here. He quickly glanced at Gast. Gast had a bemused look of puzzlement on his face. Clearly, Loki not being here was not part of the 'punishment’. He tried not to leap up and pace or show any visible sign of distress, but his capacity to hide such things was nonexistent now. Immediately, Gast caught him beginning to panic. Quickly, as though he was comforting Thor (but it was comforting, wasn’t it?) he pulled the young man into his embrace.

“My Lo Lo better come soon. My Sparkle is loskng his shine,” he tutted, his voice an exaggerated tender parody.

Thor snorted pathetically, curling into his Grandmaster for comfort. He always knew what to say.

“Well? He was your responsibility?” This was directed at Mario, one of the lieutenants and head of the penthouse crew. “What happened?”

“Well we were going to give him the works, like you wanted,” Mario said nervously. “Then we got a call about 'The Batch’ and I went to deal with that for you best I could. So we wouldn’t be delayed a month on that.”

“And?”

“So I left the kid with Tommy,” he motioned to the couch to one of the men playing games. Tommy was fairly new to the penthouse crew and he was, to put it mildly, an idiot. He was a jumped-up relative of someone, and like anyone in a position because of nepotism, he had a certain attitude of invulnerability. He was still playing the game, ignoring all the attention in the room shifting to him.

Gast moved quietly to stand behind Tommy. He watched the screen and the flashing lights of the game. His face was calm. He even smiled slightly. “Tommy, um Tommy.”

Tommy didn’t pause the game but threw a glance over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“You took care of Loki for Mario?”

“The brat? Yeah, we roughed him up. Like yah said. Gave him the dock side special!” He laughed and elbowed one of his companions. The companion was catching on to what was happening and did not laugh back.

Thor began to advance on the man, seeing red. Loki wasn’t some nosy harbor agent or business owner who was late with his protection money. He didn’t deserve…

The Grandmaster put out a hand to stop him. “So after that. After you gave him this dock side special.”

“We went out for a bit I think. Dunno. Smoked a few bowls.” There was a shrug as he continued to play.

“We went to the hospital,” one of the other men said.

“Oh yeah! Fucking brat was moaning and not moving. Did a roll stop at Mercy.”

The room began to tilt. Thor stumbled back. It had been years since either of them had been beaten so badly to warrent the hospital. Gast had become more cautious and they had become more obedient. Usually though, they were back within in a few days. Hospital officials could be bought off to release patients early and their many a doctor who would be willing to treat them here in the penthouse. There would be only two reasons why Loki wasn’t here then.

“So, he’s dead?” It was asked casually, like he was asking if someone had a nice weekend. Likw Loki’s existence was nothing more than just a simple matter, like a chore off the list.

“I dunno!” Tommy continued to play the game.

“You didn’t go to the hospital to check?”

“Fuck, that ain’t my job!”

“Actually, that is.” The television was turned off. The man was suddenly keenly aware of the danger he was in. Tommy was dragged quickly from his seat by Mario and several of the other penthouse crew members. They quickly gagged the man and frog marched him to the maid’s elevator, the way to the basement and scene of operations.

Gast rubbed his face and pulled at his lips. “Well I-I can’t say that doesn’t change a few things.”

Mario had returned. “Grandmaster I’m sorry. He’s Lenny’s boy-”

“I know.”

“His Mother is going to want to at least bury him. She’s a proper broad. But I can talk to her if you want.”

“No it’s fine. Keep him alive and intact until I hear back from the hospital. Call Lenny. He has other kids?”

“He’s Catholic, so yeah.”

“Well, one less son is nothing to fret over. Someone fetch me Topaz.” He finally turned back to Thor. Thor knew better than to leave before being dismissed. “Poor Lo Lo, isn’t that right my love?”

“I-I want to go to the hospital to find him.”

“No, no! I want you here. Here at home. Right where I know you’re safe.”

He wanted to shake his head and ask again. He wanted to run at the man to either tear him limb from limb or to plead on his knees. He felt fear that Loki was gone, that he was truly alone now. That it was just him, the Grandmaster, and a memory he had no one to share it with. But there was a thrill of hope.

Loki could be free…one way or another….

“May I go to my room?” To be alone. To mourn, to pray, to rage, to laugh, to scream….

“For a few hours. Then we’re going to go talk to Tommy.”

Thor nodded and left. If there was silver lining to all this, it would be one of the few times he got to kill someone who had hurt his younger brother.

#Grandthorki #grandmaster #thor #thorki #thundermaster #sfw #fic #cw dubcon #cw noncon implied #cw drugs #cw rl drugs #submission #playthings #playthings part5

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under-atomic-skies · 5 years

Text

The Crooked Kind. Ch. 2

Let the River In

Summary: Fiddleford is a student at Backupsmore University. He meets a stranger at a payphone and makes an unlikely friend who, unbeknownst to him, has a long, complicated relationship with his roommate. The pair become close and eventually, a romance buds between them. What could possibly go wrong? (Tags will be updated as fic is updated)

Warnings: none for this chapter

Word count: 3,991

AO3

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 (HERE) || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4

But now you’re drifting away

Now you’re floating along

And soon you’ll disappear

Stanley didn’t get that much sleep that night, more or less figuratively tossing and turning seeing as the front seat of the Stanleymobile didn’t leave much room for Stan to move around. His mind played through that prior evenings events over and over in his head, looking for any sort of excuse to not go to the cafe the next day.

It wasn’t like no one ever showed him kindness over the years. It just happened to be few and far in between. Old people tended to be the most generous. They’d hand him a few bucks with well wishes on their tongues, or sometimes would see him by his car, then come back a bit later with a warm meal for him.

However, these encounters made up just a small percentage of his interactions with others. Usually, they’d at least cast a harsh, disgusted look his way that he couldn’t help but compare to the looks his father (or even Stanford) would give him if only they could see him now. Shivering at the thought, he sighed and glanced out the window at the snow still drifting down from the sky. He couldn’t afford the gas to keep his car running all night, so it was downright freezing inside the Stanley mobile.

He sighed again. He couldn’t afford to pass up the chance for a free winter coat. Maybe that was all some cruel lie, that after meeting him at this coffee shop, the college student would return back to his friends, laughing at the joke he just played.

Yet a small voice in the back of his head nagged that the man didn’t seem capable of such things. Of course, appearances could be deceiving, and people could lie (Stan knew this better than anyone), but if Stanley was confident of one thing, it was of his ability to read people. The man seemed nothing but kind and generous. Hell, it was close to Christmas, maybe he had chosen for Stan to be his charity case.

That thought alone brought him little comfort. He never wanted to be anyone’s charity case, no matter how much he might need it.

‘Think of getting a coat and coffee this guy as stealing’, he told himself, ‘It’s for free so what’s the difference? It’s not like you can afford to pass an opportunity like this just because you’re nervous. What’s the worst he can do?’

Stanley mulled that thought over in his head. What could the guy do? He was so tiny, it wasn’t like he’d be able to actually fight him. The worst would be this was just one big joke with Stan as the punch liner. Considering how unlikely that was, Stan was willing to take that chance.

The next morning, he was up rather early considering he had been too cold and too busy wrangling his thoughts to get much sleep. The guy had said to meet him at the coffee shop in the afternoon, so Stan had several hours to blow before he needed to be there. That gave him just enough time to explore the town.

He couldn’t recall the name of the town, having driven past the old, dingy sign late at night. It hadn’t been his plan to stay this long considering he only needed to find a payphone and find a place to rest for the night, but it had been obvious this was a college town.

He always did fairly well in college towns. Or at least he did for a while, until he inevitably got chased out of town, or in some extreme cases, banned from the state. He still sold his silly little inventions like he did soon after he had gotten kicked out, but he realized there was a whole other untapped market in college towns, one that he wasn’t proud of but hey, money was money.

Seeing as he had enough gas in his tank to afford driving around rather than having to brave the frigid weather, he backed out of his parking spot and left the parking lot to coast through the town. Scanning the shops along the street, he was pleased for find that, like most college towns, there was a fair amount of bars lining the street. In the day hours, the bars had tables where patrons could eat and enjoy a drink at the bar, but Stan knew that by night, the bars would be a hotspot for college students itching to forget the stress of their studies by getting shit faced.

Mentally noting a few bars that looked rather populated, Stan planned to return that night.

When he had driven to the edge of the town where the shops were fewer in between, instead replaced by town houses, he pulled over, mulling what he would do next. He had only wasted about maybe fifteen minutes. He still had a lengthy amount of time until he had to go to the cafe.

Fingers rhythmically tapping along the steering wheel, he racked his brain. He supposed he could park the car and go into some of the bars and see if there was a bouncer he could make an arrangement with, but it was likely the bouncers were only there during the nights, so that was out. Glancing in his back seat, he noted the surplus amount of Stan Co. products that seemed to have made their home in his back seat. Stan Vacs, Total Shams, and Rip Offs were some of the more numerous. He’d been trying to clear out his inventory, so to say, for the past few years now, but as time stretched on, it got harder and harder as word of his shitty products got around.

But now he was several states further away from where he normally set up shop (metaphorically speaking). It was unlikely these people have heard of Stan Co., or any of his various alias’ that he had taken up over the years. Plus the weather was in his favour for once. People could sympathize with some poor bastard trying to make a living out in the cold winter weather. Deciding to stop in a gas station, he got the key for the bathroom and nubbed a razor from their small shelf of home supplies before closing himself in the dingy bathroom and locking the door.

Looking in the mirror caused him to wrinkle his nose at the sight of him. He quickly got to work shaving off the stubble he’d been accumulating and used water from the sink to wash his hair and face. There wasn’t much he could do about the bags hanging from his eyes, unfortunately. When he was content enough with his appearance, he flushed the toilet for good measure and returned to his car. He rooted through the trunk where he kept his good, professional looking clothes safely stored. Quickly changing into his suit, he straightened the bow tie in the drivers mirror before taking a deep breath, steeling himself to face the townsfolk.

He spent the better of the rest of the morning doing this. Most people slammed the door back in his face, and even more came up with some polite excuse to not buy his products, but he managed to get a few people to bite. He was walking back to his car when he glanced at the worn watch he had stolen years ago and cursed. He was going to be late!

He rushed back to his car and stuffed the rest of his inventions back into the back seat before quickly changing out of his suit and back into the same t-shirt and worn jacket he had worn last night. Tires screeching as he pressed down on the gas pedal, he whipped around and made his way back to the parking lot where he had spent the night.

He turned down the street in the opposite direction that he had seen the man take when he returned home and scanned the shop signs for a coffee shop. Sure enough, he found it a few shops down and walked in.

Scanning the people occupying tables, he quickly found the man’s mop of sandy blonde hair hunched over a textbook, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He was stabbed with a brief feeling of endearment, as well as betrayal, recalling seeing that exact expression on his brother on many occasions throughout their school life. He pushed that idea from his head and forced himself to stride over to the man. Once he got close, he looked up and broke into a grin, one that confused Stan.

“There ya are!” he exclaimed, “I thought ya weren’t gonna show for a moment there, but I’m glad t’ see ya!”

“Heh, sorry about that.” Stan replied tentatively, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I got a bit lost on the way here. Still don’t really know the town all that well.”

He felt bad lying to this guy, but he just couldn’t help himself. The less this guy actually knew about him, the better.

“No worries. Come on, let’s get ya a drink t’ warm ya up.” The man motioned for him to follow him as he led him to the counter. He ordered a drink and pastry for himself and stepped aside so Stan could order something for himself.

He glanced at the chalkboard behind the barista, and decided on a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. Stan stepped back out of the way for the man to pay when the man gave him a confused look.

“Don’t ya want a pastry?” he asked, as if it were some unspoken rule to get a pastry with his coffee. Stan hesitated, but as his gaze lowered to the glass case full of delectable pastries, his mouth watered too much to say no.

“I’ll get a cinnamon bun.” he told the barista, shooting a timid but thankful glance towards the man’s way.

He only grinned back and handed a few bills over to the barista.

“So, whatcha in town for?” the man asked as the pair waited for the barista to retrieve their pastries from behind the class case.

“Oh, uh…” Stan mumbled, glad when the barista straightened back up, offering their pastries. They took it and moved to the side to wait for their coffees. “I’m a traveling salesman.”

“No way!” the man exclaimed, and Stan was sure that he wasn’t actually as excited as he led on, “So you must have traveled all over the country, huh?”

Stan laughed awkwardly, “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that. I’ve been outside of the country as well.” This part wasn’t a lie, but if Stan knew anything, it helped to sprinkle a bit of truth into his lies.

“What did ya say your name was?” The man asked as the barista handed him his cup of coffee.

Hesitating, Stan replied, “Uh.. it’s Sam. Samuel Pence.”

The man grinned and set his coffee on the counter to offer a hand to Stan. “It’s a pleasure to meet ya Sam. The names Fiddleford McGucket.”

Stan reached a hand out to shake his, but his gaze snapped up when the man mentioned his own name. Fiddleford McGucket? Yeesh that was a mouthful. Unable to help himself, a bellowing laugh tumbled from his lips.

“That’s quite a mouthful you got there. I’m just gonna call ya Fidds, alright? There’s no way I’m going to remember all of that.”

Fiddleford laughed in good nature and nodded. “Alright Sam. Fidds it is then.” The barista finally came over with Stan’s coffee and the two of them sat back at the table Fiddleford had been occupying previously.

As he sat down at the table with his coffee in one hand, and cinnamon bun in the other, his stomach gave a loud rumble. He hadn’t realized quite how hungry he was until the food was right under his nose. With the voration of a wild animal, he devoured the cinnamon bun, relishing in the sweet taste of the cinnamon and icing. He had been so wrapped up, that he hadn’t noticed Fiddleford’s look of sympathy as he watched this strange man woof down his food.

Leaning back in his chair, a smile, a genuine smile, tugged at Stan’s lips, that when his gaze finally met Fiddlefords, the other man couldn’t help but mirror it back at him, any trace of sympathy gone.

“I respect a man that enjoys sweets,” He joked, “If ya liked that, you should really try some of my ma’s homemade cinnamon buns.” he replied fondly. His eyes briefly widened as if recalling something, “Speaking of which, how was your mother?”

Stan’s smile didn’t disappear, but that forced strain had returned, “Oh she’s good.” he replied almost too quickly. Sure, his mother was good, but when he was late to call her, she had fretted and worried over him, shooting question after question at him. Are you eating? Are you safe? Are you warm? Have you talked to Stanford? His ma always asked the same tirade of questions, and Stan always answered with the same response. Yes, ma. I’m safe, I’m warm. You know I haven’t talked to Stanford. His mother was a pathological liar by trade, and he knew she could tell when he was lying, but she never pushed the subject unless he was late to call her.

“Are ya going home for Christmas?” Fiddleford asked before raising his cup of coffee to his lips.

“Heh, about that,” he replied, “My family is Jewish so we don’t celebrate Christmas, but no, I’m not going home for the holidays.”

“Not going home for the holidays?” Fiddleford replied, shocked as if he couldn’t imagine why someone wouldn’t go home for the holidays. Someone like him probably had a perfect, Hallmark family.

Stan shrugged, “Eh, yeah. Too busy here, ya know? Gotta make a livin’ somehow.” he replied. As if to deter any other further comments, he added, “Plus I don’t really got any family besides her, and she already has plans for the holiday. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Fiddleford opened his mouth as if to reply but closed it, probably thinking better of it. He took another sip of his coffee, so Stan mirrored him, feeling the warm liquid trickle down his throat and warm him.

“Well, I know ya don’t celebrate Christmas, but how about I bring ya some of my Ma’s famous cinnamon buns that I was tellin’ ya about?” he offered, grinning as if he wasn’t about to take no for an answer, “You’re going to be in town for a while, right?”

Stan bit his lip. He really hadn’t been planning on it. He was just planning on passing through until he got to a bigger city, one that was hopefully further down south where it was warmer. Then again, when was the last time someone had actually wanted him around? This guy seemed to genuinely enjoy having him around, and wasn’t treating him like some charity case (even if he was) he could feel good about when he had returned to the warmth of his home. Still, to stay in town just for one person was a big deal.

“Oh come on! Just stay a bit! I can show ya around town if that’s what you’re worried about.” He playfully pouted, giving Stan the most pitiful pair of puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen.

Dammit. Maybe this guy was a better conman than he was.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stay for a bit.” Stan agreed, heaving a dramatic sigh, “You’re the youngest kid, aren’t ya?

Fiddleford’s eyes widened and looked at Stan with a shocked expression, “Yes, I am! How’d ya know?” It was unsaid, but Stan knew he was thinking ‘Are ya a psychic?”

Stan laughed, thinking his Ma would be proud to hear some poor kid thinks he’s a psychic, “‘Cause youngest kids always know just what to say, and how much puppy dog eyes to give to get what they want.”

Fiddleford gave a laugh, “So you’re an older brother then, huh?”

Stan scoffed and shook his head, “No, no. I’m a middle child; even worse.” he said, genuinely laughing. Sure, Ford was only older by a couple minutes, but he wasn’t quite ready to bring up his twin quite yet.

The two shared in their quiet laughter. Briefly, Stan wondered how he could have possibly thought this man was going to make a joke out of him. It was still so early to say so, but it had been so long since he had a friend, and Stan forgot what it had been like to just enjoy someone’s company.

The two idly chatted for a bit, merely enjoying the company of one another. Stanley gradually relaxed around the other man’s company. His strained, salesman smile he usually wore around other people gave way to a genuine smile as the southerner cracked jokes. He was feeling freer than he had in a long time. The impending stress that usually sat upon his shoulders was momentarily forgotten in favor of simply enjoying the company of the other man.

Unfortunately, Fiddleford glanced at his watch and cursed– or well, it might have been a curse in the south. Where did this guy even come up with something like sugar honey iced tea?

“I’m so sorry, Sam, I have to go! I totally forgot I have a class in a few minutes.” He replied, hastily packing up his belongings into a bag that Stan hadn’t noticed was hanging off his chair.

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed, not that he showed this. “Is that why you were readin’ when I came in?” Stan asked, gesturing to the textbook that Fiddleford was packing up. The southerner nodded. “Yes, finals week is comin’ up, so I’ve been scuttlin’ around trying to get everythin’ done.”

Stan only nodded, taking a sip of his coffee as he watched the man finally pull something out of the bag. “Oh! Here’s that jacket I promised ya! Thank ya again for takin’ it off my hands!”

Stan reached out and took the jacket from him. It sure was a thick ass jacket. The southern man really must not be acclimated to the colder winters. Other than a slight scuff on the sleeve, it was practically spotless.

As if Fiddleford could read his mind, he added, “Sorry about the sleeve. I’m afraid one of my mares bit it.” he replied.

Wait what? Mares? “You have horses?” Stan asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Fiddleford chuckles, “Back at home, yes. My family has a bunch of farm animals. We do live on a farm after all.”

Damn, so this man really was a farm boy. He should have guessed. He might be small, but his hands had the appearance of someone who could handle hard work. Stan shrugged the coat on over his jacket, smiling at how well it fit despite appearing to be heavier than the twig of a man.

“Oh good! It fits just like a glove.” Fiddleford responded. He set his coffee cup down and reached out. Stan couldn’t help but flinch, not used to people reaching towards him unless they had ill intentions. However, as the man’s hands turned the coat collar down until it was laying neatly, he felt his cheeks redden.

To his relief, the man didn’t acknowledge his flinch. “There ya go. It looks mighty fine on ya, Sam.”

Stan’s cheeks reddened even more, if that were even possible. He rubbed the back of his neck, not used to such kind words. “Hey, how about I walk ya to class? It’s the least I can do for you considering everything you’ve done for me.”

Fiddleford didn’t even hesitate. In fact, he seemed excited, and when was the last time someone had been excited to be around Stan? “Alright. It’s in a buildin’ not too far from here.” he replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Stan nodded and stood up, coffee cup in hand. He and Fiddleford exited the coffee shop and Stan fell into step beside Fiddleford as the southern man led him towards his class.

“So, what are ya studyin’ anyway?” Stan asked curiously.

His jaw dropped as the man responded, telling him that he was studying mechanical engineering.

“Ain’t that hard?” Stan asked. He didn’t know much about college. Hell, he hadn’t even graduated high school, but he wasn’t dumb enough to not know what was generally considered hard to even people who were smart.

Fiddleford laughed shyly. “I guess so,” he replied modestly, “I’ve got a bit of an advantage though. Growin’ up on the farm as a youngin’, I was always fixin’ or improvin’ on the farm equipment even from a young age. Not to mention I used to build all sorts of silly robots to prank my siblin’s.” He chuckled at fond memories, a distant look briefly clouding his bright blue eyes.

Stan scoffed, shaking his head at the man, “You know, I gotta hear some of these stories.” he replied, laughing. Having pulled plenty of pranks himself as a kid, he could relate to pranking siblings, only he hadn’t been smart enough to actually build an entire robot to do it for him.

By now, they were standing outside a fairly large building. Students with backpacks slung over their shoulders walked around them, each heading to their own destinations. Fiddleford stopped and turned to Stan, chuckles tumbling from his lips.

“Somethin’ tells me you have some stories on your own, so why don’t we swap some when I show ya around town?” Fiddleford asked. Damn, this guy was good. Yet somehow, the thought of seeing this strange yet kind man again gave Stan a fluttery feeling in his gut that he just told himself was him being happy to finally have someone that he could maybe call a friend.

“Yeah, ok,” he replied.

Fiddleford grinned and patted Stan’s shoulder amicably, “Great! Since I won’t have classes tomorrow seein’ as it’s a Saturday, how abouts your and me meetup by the cafe again, get some hot chocolate before we hit the town? How’s noon sound?”

Stan thought for a moment. Tomorrow at noon gave him plenty of time to hit the bars that night and be ready by the next afternoon. He nodded, “Noon tomorrow it is!”

Grin ever present, Fiddleford nodded. “It’s a date then! See ya then, Sam!” He turned away to head into a building, raising his hand to wave just as he had the night prior by the pay phone. Stan waved back and turned to walk back to his car.

He hadn’t gotten back to the coffee shop when Fiddleford’s words rang back in his head. ‘It’s a date’. He halted in the middle of the store front, quizzical look on his face. He couldn’t really mean— no, he scoffed to himself. It was just an expression. Fiddleford was just a kind southern man. Those people had all sorts of weird sayings for things. He found it hard to believe that someone like Fiddleford would even want to be friends with someone like him, let alone anything else.

Shrugging his jacket closer to him, grateful to finally have some defense against the cold winter air, he resumed his walk back to his car, pushing the thought from his head as he instead focused on his plans for that night. Luckily Fiddleford didn’t seem like the type to frequent bars; Stan didn’t want the man to know what he did to put food on the table, so to say. He couldn’t imagine he’d be too happy if he knew, and didn’t want him to know that he was not merely some simple yet troubled traveling salesman. He couldn’t imagine that Fiddleford would want him to stick around if he knew the truth about ‘Sam Pence’.

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