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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year

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Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Long story short Cat told Matt she’s in love with him -Danny

Words: 1,844

Phase Five Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘Nothing New’ -by Taylor Swift ft. Phoebe Bridgers

v: Bittersweet

Cat hadn't promised to stay, and Matthew hadn't asked her to after the first time, but things had fallen into a space where they felt manageable.

As much as she desired to have her freedom, she didn't want to spend every night alone, it was better to stay for as long as the affection lasted between them, otherwise, it'd be wasted and lost.

Happy told her there would be a little gathering with Pepper and Rhodey to show them the place and she was invited as well as Harley. He was trying to convince Pepper to let the boy do an internship at Stark industries.

"He's got the brain to work there, never met one like him."

"As long as people don't find out he was Tony's ward, we don't want them to think he got the position thanks to favoritism."

"Talking about favorites..." Happy glanced at her. "How's your boyfriend?"

Cat smiled. "He's okay."

"You're still living with him?"

"Yes."

"Don't you want to go back to your place?"

"Happy."

"I just wanna know."

She sighed. "I'll tell you this... I feel like I gotta stick around if I want things to work. If I go away too soon Matthew's gonna change his mind or I'll change mine—"

"Change your mind?"

Cat wasn't particularly set on keeping her love life private, not like she thought it would jinx it, it was like... it wasn't hers to tell. Someone else's story.

"If I stay away for too long I might realize my friends do things I like better than the ones I do with Matt, or he'll be alone with his friends and he'll be like 'Oh, right. This is how a real person is supposed to act.' And he'll decide I'm not enough—"

"Do you think he'll get tired of you?"

"No. Yes. Maybe." She groaned. "I think the ticking's back..."

"The what?"

"It's this feeling, a countdown I hear every time something's going too well. When I was in space and... and..." Cat frowned, trying to remember. "The first time everything went south..."

Happy looked at her without understanding. "When?"

Her confusion increased. "Ugh, doesn't matter. Things go well until they don't."

"So the ticking's a trauma response?"

"Maybe?"

"You can't be happy 'cause you feel that's what causes the bad things."

"I just... can't stop being acutely aware of the time..." she pushed her hair back as if trying to gather her thoughts. "I just have this feeling... that I should be looking for something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, I think I'm just anxious about Matthew so I keep poking around hoping to find something that'll stop me."

"Well, in that case, the solution's pretty clear," Happy retorted.

She stared at him. "Really?"

"Look forward to new things, so you don't look back."

Cat frowned. "How do I do that?"

The man looked slightly uncomfortable, but he pushed through. "You can bring Matthew to my place if you want."

"Really? You'd be okay with that?" Cat beamed.

"Well, I'd never seen you so attached to a guy since you met your brother," he sighed. "Never seen you in love, so if this is it... I wanna know what the big deal is."

The young woman wrapped her arms around Happy, taking him by surprise. He stayed in his seat but hugged her gently, patting her arm lightly. After merely a second, she added quietly. "Tony would've been happy for me, right? He wanted me to have a life, and I'm finally starting to get one."

Happy moved away. "You could give Bruce and Clint a call, tell them about Matt?"

"Oh, they don't care," she snorted. "I annoy Clint. And Bruce... I always had the feeling he liked me but in the way people like lions— from a distance."

"What about Wanda?"

Her smile faltered. "I'm not sure that rubbing my love life in her face is a good idea. I might just call to hear how she's doing."

"Do that, it might do some good," he patted her arm again. "I'm proud of you, kid."

Cat looked away, she stepped back. "Don't."

"Cat..."

She was saved from making an excuse when her phone rang.

"There she is!" Foggy was standing outside the bar with Matthew. "Hey, you!"

"Why are you out here?" She asked. "Where's Karen?"

"We're not staying here," Matt explained.

"Why?"

"Matt said we should do something different— a bit more refined," Foggy grinned. "He's buying us dinner."

Cat looked at her boyfriend. "You're taking us on a date?"

Matthew shrugged. "The children were feeling neglected."

"He's turned down every single offer to hang out since you came back, which I'm not holding against you at all, I'm sure you missed him as much as he missed you—"

"He missed me?" A grin formed on her face. "Was he annoying about it?"

"Should've seen him, dude was suffering the worst case of blue ba—"

"That's enough," Matthew laughed. "He's lying. I never mentioned you."

"Ouch," Cat and Foggy said at the same time. "That was cold," Foggy put an arm around her shoulders in a protective way.

"And here I was, thinking we had something special," Cat added.

"I should've warned you when I had the chance," the blond man shook his head. "And you were so young..."

"Am I breaking her heart or is she dead?" Matt grinned.

"Who's dead?"

The sight moved the floor under Cat's feet. She would always feel small around Karen Page, but there was something about her that made her impossible to hate, and she'd tried to during the first month of knowing her.

"No one, Cat and Foggy are idiots," Matthew replied.

The duo complained again, sounding even more offended than the first time. Matt raised both hands, one of them holding his cane.

"Alright, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be rude," he offered his free hand to Cat. "I missed you. I thought I'd done a pretty good job at hiding it, but the only person I convinced of that was myself."

"I forgive you," Cat held his hand and moved away from Foggy. "Only because you're buying us dinner."

"What?" Karen smiled. "That's generous..."

"He's celebrating that his girl's back," Foggy taunted, now walking beside Karen.

"Enough, Foggy," Matt insisted, but he was smiling from ear to ear.

"Is he drunk?" Cat asked under her breath.

"No, he's just in a good mood, for some reason."

"What kind of sick bastard decides to be in a good mood?" She joked.

Matthew kissed her cheek, it was his turn to wrap his arm around her shoulders. "How's Happy?"

"Genuinely happy for the first time in a while," Cat admitted. "He's invited the family to his apartment next weekend."

Matthew hummed. "You going?"

He knew how awkward she was about those reunions, however, now that she'd agreed to it, she would use it to her benefit, to calm her own paranoid mind. "Happy said you were invited."

Matthew raised a brow. "Am I? That's interesting."

"He's never seen me in love or whatever," Cat tried to get the explanation out as quickly as possible. "He's curious about you."

He tilted his head, frowning a little. "What's that?"

"You heard me," she said impatiently.

"You're in love?" A tiny smile formed on his lips. "That can't be right. What did you say to me last weekend? That you can't—"

"Wasn't I supposed to be the childish one in this relationship?" Cat snapped.

There it was again, same old Matthew, totally comfortable with the situation. If she wasn't the problem she wondered what on earth had worried him the other night. What was holding him back from saying "I love you" to her?

Matthew was all smiles throughout the whole evening, it was unlike him, but it looked good on him. At the end of the night, Foggy went to get a taxi for him and Karen, and Matthew followed him out to attend to a phone call. Cat accompanied Karen to the restroom.

"How long will you be staying this time around?"

Cat frowned. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Could be months, a year... I work with friends. We er... we get hired for different things."

Karen gave her a look. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Are you like him?" Karen decided to let out a bit more. "You do things most people can't... perhaps while wearing a suit?"

In spite of herself, Cat smiled. "So what if I do? Would that be a problem?"

Karen pondered her question. "I'm not sure. You're friendlier than Elektra..."

The mention irritated her, Cat knew she wasn't that different. Matthew didn't know this yet, but their fairytale would die instantly once he did.

"What's clear to me is that Matthew has a type, and usually they end up breaking things he's barely managed to put together," Karen continued. "But you're different... I just don't know how."

"I'd love to agree, but you're wrong," she said. "I'm exactly like them: a timebomb. But —and I think this is the important part— I might be able to deactivate before I cause any damage."

"I think the important bit is not wanting to harm," the woman replied. "The rest should come easily."

"For a normal person, maybe."

Karen nodded in understanding. "But you're not a normal person."

She looked towards the bathroom's entrance and changed the subject. "We should head out, they'll start to wonder why we're taking so long..."

Cat tried to walk but Karen stopped her.

"The way he was smiling tonight... it'd been a while since I saw that. If you can find a way to be happy for him..."

Cat stared at her. "Can I ask you something, Karen?"

"Shoot."

"Do you think he likes me because I'm more enthusiastic than him?"

"No," she replied sincerely. "I think he likes you because you don't try to change who he is like we do. You understand."

"What will happen if that changes? Should I be who he would like me to be, just to keep him happy?"

"I think you're the only one who can answer that... but Matt wouldn't ask you to be something that you're not."

"You know," Cat tilted her head. "I was asked to decide how I wanted to live the rest of my life when I was very young. Back then I thought I would live less than a decade, now a decade has gone by, and I have no idea of what to do next."

"That sounds like it was a tough choice to make," Karen replied.

"It was. A friend told me then, that our life was composed of grays, I think the same but..." she stopped for a moment, the ticking was stuck in her throat. "Matthew's black and white, and he doesn't like to mix them up. I knew this and I still went after him. Part of me can't help but think I do this on purpose."

Karen looked like she might've hugged her hadn't been because she knew Cat wasn't a fan of hugs. "Matt cares about you, you don't have to go anywhere."

"Not yet, but one day..."

"One day at a time, starting with the present," Karen told her firmly. "We can't live in hypotheticals, right?"

Matt had mentioned Karen had lost her brother when she was in her twenties like Cat, and before that she'd struggled with other things too. Cat had as much in common with Karen as with Elektra, she was not beyond repair.

"We should hang out more," Cat said, holding the blonde's hand and guiding her out. "Can't be healthy for us to be around men all day."

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @jesuswasnotawhiteman @siriuslysirius1107 @greengarsstuff @itsyagirl01 @23victoria @espressopatronum454 @jkthinkstoomuch

#twoidiots writing #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #copycat fic

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givemethatgold · 3 years

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Fix’er Upper Pt. 8

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: none? Length: 2.1k Notes: I’m sorry, Cyn, I know I said there would be smut but I was just enjoying the slow burn too much. And I just feel like these two NEED this. Not me nervous to write about his p in her v, nooope. Also, I’m wine drunk and did not spell check this bitch, have fun with that. Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series MASTERLIST

The day of the fair had finally arrived and you woke with more than a little excitement churning in your stomach. Multiple meetings at the community center had given you a chance to meet more of the town's population and you'd gained a deeper appreciation for them. Small towns afforded very few entertainments, which had resulted in some of the older kids, driven by boredom, getting into trouble. Minor things like graffiti and trespassing, but the community knew if they weren't careful that things could escalate. So, instead of making the kids feel judged or harshly reprimanded, the town was working towards better programs and facilities to keep them busy.

It was an unseasonably beautiful Autumn day, the kind that carried memories of Summer on the warm breeze. Knowing that cold and snow were just around the corner, these "second summers" made people act a little more recklessly and freely than they usually might. You had a feeling that the crowds tonight were going to be bigger and rowdier than anyone could have hoped for.

Jacquie had stopped by later to offer you a ride to town but you had just sent your baking with her, insisting that you wanted to enjoy the sunshine and bicycle in.

Once you'd entered the main square you were blown away by the effort from the town. Banners, balloons, streamers, and posters were everywhere. A stage for musical acts and a ticket booth had been built and donated by Hank's Hardware, food carts selling anything and everything you could deep-fry were scattered down every road. Carnival games had been set up in rows down multiple, closed-off, streets, as well as people setting up face-painting, balloon animals, and a smaller version of the Saturday Farmer's Market. The high school football field had even been converted to a tiny amusement park with a Ferris Wheel, carousel, and swing ride.

It was still early, and there was still a lot to do before the fair would be open, but the excitement was already palpable. After making sure your pies had been marked down for the auction, you beelined for the water gun race game that you and a lovely woman named Heather had been assigned to operate.

Too preoccupied with making sure you had the water tanks filled, the pumps were working, and your ticket box was in place you didn't notice how some of the other volunteers were acting strangely, making sidelong glances and meaningful head nods.

Nothing seemed amiss once Heather had joined you. In fact, you were getting along with her so well the two of you had already made plans to meet for coffee the next day.

Soon, the fair was in full swing. The games booths were a popular stop with families and you were having the time of your life cheering for every child who tried their hand at your game.

Eventually, there was a natural lull in the festivities as fair-goers drifted from the games towards the food and live entertainment. You were just suggesting making a quick snack run when Heather's phone rang.

"Sorry, one sec, it's my husband," she grimaced, holding her finger up to stop you from leaving.

In a bid to give her a modicum of privacy, you tallied up the tickets and bunched them into coils for easier counting later. Heather's normally calm voice rose in pitch and urgency, drawing your attention back to her in time to see a look of alarm and annoyance cross her face.

"What do you mean, burned? Like, burned burned? There's smoke?! Oh, honey, what on earth..." she paused, listening to her husband's voice some more, giving you an eye roll that clearly said 'Men. They're hopeless' and interrupted whatever he had been saying. "Alright, alright. It's slowing down here so I can run home."

Putting her phone back in her purse, Heather turned to you with a huff. "He's burnt dinner, and it sounds like my skillet is toast, too. I'm sorry to do this to you but I need to run to the store and bring dinner home. I've got the only car, so they're stuck."

Assuring her you could manage on your own, you shooed her away and told her to take her time.

Walking backward to wave goodbye, Heather kept spouting numerous apologies and promising she'd make it up to you on your coffee date. Giving one last smile she spun around and immediately ran into old Mrs. Crawley who was being escorted by no other than a very bored and trapped-looking Frankie Morales.

"Oh! Mrs. Crawley! So sorry!" She began, steadying the white-haired octogenarian, "I'm being called home, ditching my post, gotta run, bye!" With that, she was gone, weaving her way through the crowd of people.

Mrs. Crawley had glanced over at you when Heather had mentioned having to leave and was currently shuffling her way towards you, Frankie in tow.

"Frankie, be a dear and help this beautiful lady out while Heather is away."

It wasn't a question but you still felt the need to speak up, giving Frankie an out if he wanted it.

"I can manage-"

"But what about your-"

You'd both spoken at the same time and stopped mid-way through to let the other go first. Mrs. Crawley broke the silence instead.

"My hip is feeling much better, and I think I'll just make my way over to the bandstand," she gave Frankie a meaningful look accompanied by a rather sharper-than-expected slap to his cheek, "alone."

You both watched her walk over to the stage, stopping to wave at Jacquie and Agnes where they were organizing the bake sale.

"What on earth is going on," you thought to yourself while staring daggers at Jacquie from across the street. This had zero effect on her, she was just sending you lewd winks and had the audacity to give Mrs. Crawley a thumbs up. That conniving little-

"Emmmm... hi."

His voice, sounding uncertain and shy, brought your attention back to Frankie. Taking a moment to soak in his presence, you noticed how worn down he looked. "Good," thought the petty part of your brain, but she was easily squashed by the rest of it appreciating the rest of him.

Tight jeans hugging his thighs, the buttons on his shirt working overtime where the material pulled across his back and chest, his hair was long and getting shaggy but when you saw the curls peeking out from under his baseball cap you had to fight the sudden urge to run your fingers through it.

Your eyes traveled up his neck, noting the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and across his face. He'd trimmed his beard, filthy thoughts of how it would feel on your skin flashed in your head.

Finally meeting his eyes with your own, you had to take a breath before replying.

"It's nice to see you, Frankie." Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, drawing his gaze "I guess we should talk-"

You were cut short by rowdy laughter and a crowd of people bustling onto the street, another wave of ticket-holders were coming to try their luck and win the huge teddy bear prize each game boasted.

For the next hour, you were kept too busy to talk more than what was necessary for running the booth. You used the time to gather your thoughts and make a list of what you wanted to say, how you wanted to say it, and how you were going to start the conversation casually.

Frankie wasn't sure how he had ended up as Mrs. Crawley's crutch. One minute he was dropping off a crate of fruit for the apple bobbing contest and the next he was walking at a snail's pace listening to the old woman reminiscing about her long-dead husband.

She was sweet, and he didn't mind the slow meander around the square. No, it was the subject matter that had bugged him. After his divorce was finalized and his daughter was taken from him, which he could see now was the right thing to do at the time, Frankie had accepted the fact that he was alone.

Just him, his trees, and the memories of what he did to end up this way.

Then, you had come along. The first woman to catch his attention in five damn years. It wasn't just your beauty, or your easy smile, or the curves of your body. It was your goodness, your innocence, your ability to worm your way into everyone's hearts and not even know it.

Listening to Mrs. Crawley and the love she had shared made his chest ache, knowing he'd never deserve it himself he still found himself longing for the same. The first moment he had laid eyes on you, it was like a movie about his life had played in flashes in his mind. The meet-cute at the market, romancing you with thoughtful dates like picnics and driving up to the city’s museums and theatre. Getting married, growing the business, then growing your family. It had all played out in a split second but the impression it had left was immeasurable.

Then, he'd opened his mouth and ruined the moment. Crashed into your truck and ruined the moment. Spooked and burned you, ruining the moment. Gained your trust, broke down your walls, and then left like a coward in the morning and ruined it.

Shaken by his inward reflecting when Mrs. Crawley was jostled, Frankie froze in place once his eyes were directed to where you stood. You were glaring over his shoulder and refusing to meet his eyes, understandably, yet he still felt his chest contract with the hope you'd look at him and smile.

The way your gaze had eventually taken him in, once he'd been abandoned by a suddenly spry-looking elder, had flared that longing back into a roaring flame. The sudden need to work the booth gave him plenty of time to plan his speech: begging for forgiveness and admitting to the way he felt. While his mind was busy planning his speech, his heart was bursting at how comfortably and effortlessly the two of you worked with each other, like you’d been doing it for years.

Heather returned, strolling over with a barely concealed smile on her face, not looking at all like she'd just come back from a domestic emergency. This whole town could win an Oscar for their performance tonight, it was mildly humiliating but you knew they were acting out of love.

She thanked Frankie profusely for standing in for her and wouldn't take no for an answer after suggesting the two of you go and enjoy yourselves for a bit. Glancing at Frankie you shrugged your shoulders and made a face that said "why not?". He smiled and nodded back, grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder before joining you on the bustling street.

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, relishing just being near each other and absorbing the jubilant energy surrounding you.

Frankie bought you cotton candy and you made him belly laugh when you showed him the few bottles of cider you'd smuggled in your bag. Seeing the way his face lit up, how he exposed that delicious neck when he threw his head back, hearing the joyous rumble from deep within, sent a realization slamming into you so suddenly it made you stumble.

You loved him.

You might not be in love with him, not yet anyway, but there was a lightness and a warmth in your heart and he had put it there.

Frankie had grabbed your arm when you had stumbled and when you didn't pull away from his touch, his hand slid down your arm and his fingers wove their way through yours.

Walking like this, hand in hand, you found yourselves at the rides.

"I've never been on a Ferris Wheel," he admits to you, craning his head upwards to stare at the top carriage.

Dragging your eyes away from his neck, again, it took your brain a moment to acknowledge what he’d said. "What?!" You expressed with mock horror, already making your way toward the ride’s gate, "Then let's remedy that!"

"I'm- uh this is stupid," he was barely moving with you and adjusted his hat, a nervous tick you'd noticed, "I'm scared of heights."

This admission stopped you in your tracks.

"Frankie." You deadpanned, gripping his hand and pulling on it to emphasize your words, "You're. A. Pilot."

He groaned and you were sure you could see a blush creeping up from beneath his collar, "I know! I know. It's just that, up there?" He stops with a sigh, gazing at the stars wistfully, "I'm in control. I trust myself."

"Do you trust me?" You ask him softly gripping his hand between the both of yours.

Frankie gazed at your face for a breath, not in a way that made you think he was hesitating, it was more like he was pausing so you knew the full weight of his words.

"I trust you with everything."

PART NINE

TAGS: If you’d like to be added, send me an ask or a message! If you’re on the list please interact, I love getting your feedback, hearing your predictions, and all the “these two idiots!” comments

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#Frankie Morales x you #Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Francisco Morales x you #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Morales x reader #Frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #Francisco catfish morales x you #francisco catfish morales x reader #fix'er upper

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

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STICK TOGETHER

Summary: When Fred finds out Y/n is planning on leaving the Wizarding World, he canalizes his feelings in the worst way possible, which leads to a terrible outcome that seems unfixable.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: swearing

A/N: @meph1stophelian is here putting pressure on me to post this already so I'm apologizing for the poorly written ending lmaoo enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Fred, calm down." George begged me; he walked by my side, trying to talk some sense into me, but it was not the moment. "You gotta understand her— throwing a fit isn't going to help anyone—" I didn't even look in my twin's direction while he spoke. "Bloody hell, Fred—"

"Y/n!" I quickened my pace, leaving George behind after spotting her in one of the corridors, having a chat with a couple of Ravenclaws. "Can I have a word?"

"Sure— Oi!" I hadn't waited for her to reply before grabbing her hand and snatching her away to pull her into the nearest broom closet. "What was that about?"

"Tell me I heard Katie wrong and you're not actually leaving."

"I can't tell you that." She plainly responded, her voice steady.

A single, gobsmacked snide left my throat. "You're joking, right?" My heart ached as if it was being constricted when she shook her head no. "So you're fleeing?"

"What?"

"Things are getting ugly so you're running away."

Her eyes dug into mines as she stayed in a very uncomfortable silence before replying with. "So what if I am?" When I averted my eyes from hers, she called my name. Her eyes were somewhat softer now, with a gleam of plea in them. "For the last two years we had nothing but tragedy. Diggory died, You-Know-Who is back and recruiting, the ministry is full on going against a teenager, this pink colored nasty toad is physically abusing us, and on top of that, I have to put up with my housemates' bullshit for having muggle blood— I'm tired!" Her voice had raised a bit, enough for me to know she was struggling to keep it at bay, but still managed to. "If I can have a life out of this then—"

"You're a coward."

"Fred." there was a warning on her tone, but I couldn't listen.

"You're leaving... people behind," she attempted to reason; I didn't let her. "Dunno why I'm surprised, really. At the end of the day you're a Slytherin for a reason."

Her eyes started to well up, and I couldn't tell if it was with anguish or fury. I knew I was getting under her skin, but that was exactly what I intended to do; if I was going to leave that room scarred, so would she.

"Self-preservation, you call it." I scoffed, feeling my own rage building up faster each passing second. "Pure cowardy."

"Is that what you think?" Her tone wasn't steady anymore; she was holding back the poison of her words, for my sake.

"Yeah." I wasn't capable of doing the same thing for hers. "And I don't want your cheap excuses and emotional manipulation to convince me otherwise." My face was probably red due to the anger, my jaw and fists hurt from clenching them; I was off the rails, and the person who would usually stop me was standing in front of me. "Better leave now so you don't have the chance to sell us out when shit goes down."

Silence fell upon us, our gazes locked, equally watery and with the same amount of fury and sadness within them.

And finally she snapped. "Maybe I'm a coward, but you're a self-absorbed prat who's not able to see beyond your own ego!" The way she said it hurt me more than the sentence itself. "This is not gonna be a DADA class, Fred! I don't want to fucking die because I was too slow casting Protego."

"Good luck, Y/l/n." I curtly wished her before stalking out of the broom closet I have initially dragged her into.

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

We avoided each other for a week. The following Monday, when I entered the Great Hall, I found George and Katie quite depressed.

"What's gotten into you?"

They shared a look before my brother turned to me, deciding to break the news himself.

"Y/n left last night." He gave me an apologetic look. "Thought she'd wait until the graduation—"

"But she's had enough." Katie finished, toying with her breakfast. "Honestly, I wish I had a life in the muggle world too."

My lungs were refusing to take the air inside; I felt as if I would choke if I stayed there, so I stormed out, jogging to reach the countryard.

I needed to breathe.

Even after the wind hit my face, that vital task felt like the most difficult thing in the world to accomplish.

I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her.

A sob escaped my chest, realising the harsh words I had spat at her were probably the last ones she would ever hear from me.

I love her.

A Year And A Half Later

READER'S P. O. V.

I managed to apparate somewhere in the cornfield —the only place around the Burrow I remembered clearly.

I should have landed with a broom, but apparently, Mad-Eye didn't inform Lupin that I would serve as an extra escort for Harry if they were ambushed, so my broom was now smashed somewhere down the muggle road we had flown over.

Mentally cursing the damn moment in which I spoke to Shacklebolt in hopes of being useful in this war, I looked for the entrance of the Weasley home, which took me quite a while.

Funnily enough, it was Lupin who stepped out, wielding his wand and casting yet another hex at me that I somehow managed to block.

With a swift wave of my hand, he was propelled back into the house. "YOU!" A long-haired redhead I recognized as the eldest Weasley helped my old Professor up as I stalked to them with my wand up. "YOU HEXED MY BLOODY BROOM! I'M LUCKY TO BE ALIVE!"

"Y/n, calm down—" Shacklebolt was now besides me with his hands up. "He didn't know you were coming— he was trying to protect George from further harm."

My brain was slow to process his words, but as soon as it did, I started to down my arm. "What happened?"

"Snape hit him with the sectumsempra." My eyes widened at Lupin's heavy words.

"Did everyone else make it?" The three of them remained silent, the ginger shaking his head no.

My breath caught up in my throat, but before I could ask if Fred was alright, another tall ginger flashed the corner of my eye, and my head snapped to the living room's door.

FRED'S P. O. V.

Everyone was scattered around the house. Ginny took Hermione and Fleur to her room; Ron and Harry made its way up too; Tonks went out —she needed a moment alone to mourn Mad-Eye—, and, while my parents and I stayed with George, Lupin, Shacklebolt and Bill went to guard the entrance.

I was still kneeling by George's side, holding his hand while our mother healed his wound the best she could, when we heard a yell followed by a strong blow in the kitchen.

I looked at my mum and dad, my eyes flickering to my twin while I reached for my wand.

As I got up, more yells were heard, this time clearer; the voice was familiar— I knew that voice all too well.

There she stood, at the entrance of my home.

Her eyes met mines as soon as she caught a glimpse of me, and my head started to spin. I knew I had no right to do what I was about to do, but after that night's events, in which the war became very much real, I couldn't help but rush to her and engulf her in a tight hug.

Surprisingly enough, I couldn't take more than two steps forward, since she did what I intended to do first.

"You're alright." She mumbled against my shoulder. My eyes shut, trying to block the tears that threatened to fall. "How's he?" She inquired whilst pulling away with a concerned frown.

Not trusting my voice, I nodded in the living room's direction. A quiet sough escaped my lips as she passed by, her hands lingering on my arms for a brief instant before she entered the room and took careful steps towards the settee.

I barely caught a couple of words from George and Y/n's exchange, my mind still buzzing due to the shock.

"What do you say, Freddie?" I frowned at my twin, regretting not listening to the conversation. "She can take my bed, right? I'm not gonna get far anyway."

"Right." I agreed, struggling for my voice to come out steady. It was Y/n we were talking about; I had known her since our fourth year, I had been friends and more with her, seeing her shouldn't be that nerve-wracking.

A couple of minutes later, we were all heading to our respective rooms, and as I closed my room's door behind me and Y/n, it dawned on me that I had underestimated the anxiety that could cause me being left alone with her.

Get it together, Fred.

"If you want, you can grab a shirt from the drawer." I finally managed to speak, motioning at the chest besides the window. She nodded and turned to it to look for one she could sleep in.

Now that I had the opportunity, I carefully observed her, and soon realized how much she had changed in the time we were apart. Not only when it came to her physical appearance; she stood a bit straighter, talked a little calmer; the joy with which she used to sparkle was dim now, eclipsed by a severe, worried attitude— a sign of us no longer being the kids who messed around at Hogwarts.

"I missed you" I knew right away that wasn't the best start for the conversation.

"It sure didn't seem like it." The bitterness in her tone stung my heart harsher than I expected.

"You're still mad?" The way I was conducting the conversation was making me want to bang my head against the wall.

She sighed, turning around now that she had the shirt on to meet my gaze. "A year and a half, Fred. You didn't contact me for a year and a half. I thought we were friends."

"You left me behind!" I talked back, partly because I panicked, but also because I, to my surprise, was still mad too. "What did you even expect?"

"A letter?" She questioned, throwing herself down on the bed. "I mean— I didn't really expect anything, but a letter would have been a good way to let me know you didn't fucking hate me." My eyes, now fixed on my lap, went wide when Y/n's voice broke at her last three words.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, quite ashamed of having to apologise while also being scared of saying anything that could harm her further. "I'm sorry about not writing and- uh... I'm sorry about what I said to you. I know it's not an excuse but I was really mad and..." I cleared my throat and felt the blush creeping up my neck even before I finished the sentence. "... and hurt 'cause you- I thought that maybe I wasn't important enough to you and- yeah, I'm sorry about what I said." I tried meeting her eyes but they were fixed on the wall before her.

"It's fine." She shrugged, "I guess you were right anyway."

"I wasn't right-"

"You were." She hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face there. "Wanna know why I'm back?" She didn't need my response. "They're hunting down my family." My heart stopped beating for a second due to the shockingly deadpanning tone. "A friend gave me a tip-off— they were tracking them down. I got to them just in time." I refrained myself from asking about them —the less I knew, the better. "So yeah, you're right, I was a coward and left people behind."

My body shot up and my legs carried me to George's bed; without me being fully aware of what I was doing or which consequences it could have, I sat down and pulled Y/n into my arms.

Though she was shocked at first, her body soon relaxed into the familiarity of my arms, and she let out a relieved sigh. "You're not alone on this." I whispered, pecking her crown. "I'm here, okay?"

"So you don't hate me?" She murmured against my chest.

Maybe it was the fragility of her voice, or the warmth of her embrace I missed so much; maybe it was this past year and a half of regret, or the night's events, but I couldn't hold back my words.

"I love you."

And even though she went stiff, even if I had just blurted them out almost in accident, I didn't regret saying them, because I, in fact, loved her.

She pulled away to look into my eyes. "You mean it?"

"Yeah." I replied, calmer than I had been in a while. "And I'm really sorry about everything, if I could turn back time—" words and air were cut off by her lips crashing against mines.

We had kissed before, but it was on a bet's behalf or to prank someone; this was different, this was her pouring her 'I love you' into actions, and I embrace it gladly.

"No more running away." I commanded when she pulled back. "From now on, we stick together." She nodded, her forehead resting against mine and her palms on my chest.

#fred weasley x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x gender neutral reader

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exrayspex · 2 years

Text

oh also lol all legal preparations for my mom to finally divorce my dad have been done for months and months. she just has to tell him. but time kept passing and she kept not doing it. and i was like you've gotta pick a date or you never will, and she "didn't wanna ruin the holidays" (lmao. him being there ruined them.) so she decided to pick i think it was the first weekend after new years.

(damn this got long huh. cw for talking about domestic abuse under the cut)

surprise surprise she doesn't do it then either. she thought about it and started having a panic attack. and so i keep trying to talk to her about it to like, figure out how to work to make it more manageable but she won't talk to me about it. just refuses

every time i try she's just like i think about it every day! every day i try but i get too scared! and then just shuts me down before i can try to work with her to make it more manageable. and with my weird hours and us living with him it's v hard to get those chances to talk, so each shutdown blocks any convo off for a good while

like i want to talk about how she seems to think we'll all just live together while the actual divorce process happens, because i think fear of living with him while he's trying to make life as hellish as possible for her bc of anger about it is uh, probably contributing to her fear a bit. but every time i try to discuss like, planning to separate after the announcement and figuring out the housing situation for that, again she shuts me down.

i keep trying to get her to plan a day and time for us to do it together too, but she just says the thing about trying every day again and won't make concrete plans with me. i think bc she doesn't actually want to do it with me there, bc she knows that if he gets nasty and screams or is violent that i'll do whatever he does right back to him.

and she hates hates hates when i retaliate in any way to him, hates that i'm not a doormat in the face of abuse so much, hates it more than anything else about me. i think she still, in the scared animal part of her brain, considers me retaliating the same as him abusing in the first place.

anyway. so she doesn't wanna do it with me there. but she also knows what he's like, and doesn't wanna do it when it's just her and him either bc she knows he might try to kill her. so she is trying to find a way to do it in a place with other people around, like at a bar or restaurant. but shockingly, that's not the best way to build up her courage for it.

she also doesn't wanna talk about any of it with me at least partly bc like every time i get upset about something she says or does something that sets off my deep, deep anger and resentment about it all. that she never left when i was a kid and he was hurting me, that she never was willing to physically protect me, that she says she defended me with words but also never ever let me hear them, that she's so proud of herself for threatening to call cps on him if he didn't stop that one time and thinks that was her protecting me, even though the very next time he hurt me and she did nothing she was showing him her threats were totally empty, the fact that i am almost fucking 30 and haven't been able to escape him bc i'm too fucking disabled to be on my own, the fact that i am forced to be dependent on her to escape him, the fact that i would be brave and step in and protect her all the fucking time as a kid, that i still do now, and she either doesn't realize it or hates it depending on the day, the way i would deliberately get him pissed off at me when i thought he looked like he might get violent with her so that he'd get violent with me instead, to protect her, and she doesn't think i was capable of that, thinks that oh he was just mad at her, he was just taking it out on me bc i "happened" to be there and it was really only about them, like i was just an object and not a real child choosing to sacrifice my childhood to protect her, like i haven't made a difference, even though he doesn't verbally abuse her in front of me hardly ever anymore bc he knows i'll immediately defend her and return fucking fire.

just. all my life i've been being brave for her, and tried to protect her from him and all my life i've been waiting for her to FINALLY do the same for me. and after years and years she finally gives me hope that she will, and it comes time to do it, and she's too shit fucking scared. like i wasn't? like i'm not? like if he does try to get homicidal (again lol) over the divorce announcement it won't be me who steps up and physically protects her and is the one hurt yet again? like i'm not screaming on the inside all the time bc i know at any moment she could come and say it's time and i'd have to be ready to potentially die or kill him to stop him killing one or both of us? and i would! i would be ready and i would do whatever was needed! i will! but all that. ALL THAT. and she won't even fucking be brave for ten fucking minutes and tell him? ALL THAT and she still won't be brave for me for once?

anyway. yeah i'm angry about it lol. and every time she's poked at *gestures to this entire mess* when i've been upset i've gotten mad and yelled at her. which has of course made her even more reluctant to talk through it with me and plan it and finally fucking DO IT.

so. yeah. 2022, a lovely year so far. oh also i had a horrible dream where she told him without me and he got violent and she came shuffling into my room in the dark all bloody and horribly injured and making those quiet crying hurt sounds like when she broke her leg and when the dog dragged her over and down a hill. (when her leg was broken it was in 3 places from falling and she had insurance and he still didn't wanna call an ambulance. i had to fight him--very nearly physically but not quite--while i was on the phone w 911) i dreamed this more than once but it's finally stopped. can't stop thinking about it though.

i just want it to be over, i just want us to be free, i just want to finally get to live a different life. she's terrified it'll be worse somehow. terrified of poverty mostly. but like, ugh. she's been poor with him, too. and she'd be able to get alimony easily. she has the legal stuff all set up for that too. but she's still worried bc he generally works making quite a bit of money for a few months to a few years, then is unemployed for a few months to a few years making nothing, that's been his pattern for over a decade now. and that would effect alimony. but like. it effects us now too!!! and i might actually be able to get SSI if we were finally free of him and also finally had a household income that maybe didn't fluctuate wildly.

it will only be better without him. but i'm starting to doubt that she will ever leave. starting to think she'd rather live in a familiar hell than face an objectively better life just because there'd be a lot of new, unfamiliar things and it wouldn't be perfect. i've asked and she seems annoyed and shrugs it off like yes of course she's going to, it's just a matter of time, like it's ridiculous i could doubt her, but. well. and then i do feel bad doubting her too, bc that's probably not going to help give her the courage to do it, and also bc i do know her. and i know that it takes her an absolute age to do most things. like, years sometimes. but she does usually do it eventually. so it's not surprising that this is taking years. but augh...i genuinely cannot wait much longer.

and i hate how she'll still criticize the way i react to his abuse, do her old playing the impartial referee bullshit. and like, i cannot help it. i cannot help the way i react to his abuse, the ptsd is driving when that happens, the only solution is for me to not be around him. yet she'll lecture me for it while also forcing me to still be around him bc she won't fucking leave.

god, fuck. i hate that i can't live independently. i hate that i need a caregiver. i hate that i don't and won't ever qualify for SSDI (the better disability, basically. it's still not great, but SSI is the other kind, and that's meant to be temporary, is even less money, and can be and very frequently is stopped for all kinds of ridiculous reasons at any time. it's the only kind i'll ever be able to get). i just wanna be free from him. it's all i've ever really wanted. why can't i have this one thing

#considering all this though i'm fine #i'm a tough bitch i can handle it #i just DO NOT WANT TO ANYMORE #but i will

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lollercakesff · 4 years

Text

It’s Sticky

A fic for @fulcrumstardust and her slime prompt. Rated: Explicit Word Count: 5,200

“I just - I don’t understand the pleasure in it,” Cassian’s voice, distinctive but muffled by the thin dorm walls, makes Jyn look up from her coding homework and focus her attention on the conversation filtering through the vent overhead.

Kay, the student who lived next door to her dorm room, had introduced them passively after Cassian had tried to be the good friend and return the drunken man to her room after one too many drinks a few weeks ago. Apologetic, he’d dragged Kay down the hall one more door and cursed when he’d discovered the man had lost his keys.

“Let me,” Jyn states, watching the struggle and trying to disguise her laughter as Cassian swears a string of expletives in Spanish. She ducks back into her room for a moment before returning to the hallway with a sock in hand.

“I don’t think that’ll solve his lost keys problem,” Cassian grumbles, desperately trying to steady Kay against the wall.

“It’s what’s in the sock,” Jyn returns and stuffs her hand inside. When she pulls it back out, Cassian frowns at the bits of metal with confusion.

“Hair pins?"

Jyn shakes her head. "Lock picks. Move over a bit,” she orders and then begins fiddling with the lock. Cassian’s just about to tell her not to bother when she hears the click of the lock and the door pops open an inch. “Got it.”

“Where’d you - pendejo, por favor,” he grunts and counters the tall man’s tipping weight with his own to keep him from crumbling to the floor.

“I’ll let you get him to bed,” Jyn whispers and Kay chooses that moment to swing his hand between them.

“Cassian Andor - Jyn Erso. She’s chaos. Don’t engage her,” Kay warns and Cassian snorts.

“Yeah well, she might be chaos but she just saved your ass so be less of a dick about it. Thanks - I gotta get him inside - ”

“Yeah. No problem. Night,” Jyn bids and disappears back into her room, ignoring the struggle happening through the wall with a half-smile on her face.

Since that night, she’d tried to keep her ears from popping up whenever she managed to discern his accent through the walls but she was losing the battle. Big time. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Cassian was attractive - even when flushed from the drink - and Jyn had kept an eye out for him as the pair moved through the halls and elevators of the dorm ever since. Even though he was good looking, and even though his voice made her insides tighten, she’d tried not to interject herself into their path because the banality of Kay’s conversation was not worth a passing acknowledgement from his friend, no matter how good his gaze felt grazing over her skin.

And she’d felt it, no lie about it. She’d felt it quite a bit.

Tonight though, her coding project just wasn’t working and she was desperate for a distraction. So eavesdropping it was.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Kay returns evenly and Cassian snorts.

“It doesn’t feel natural. It’s too… Moist, or something.”

“It’s the most natural thing in the world. I don’t understand why you don’t like it. Is it the texture?”

“No, I mean, it’s soft and weirdly warm - ” Jyn nearly chokes, trying to discern just what they were talking about. Pleasure, moist, warm… her cheeks heated. Surely that’s not - “ - but it’s also slippery. It’s weird - ”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Kay scolds. “How do you not know how to describe it? You’ve touched enough by now - you’re no virgin!"

Cassian laughs, a deep belly laugh, and Jyn widens her eyes in silent surprise. Were they really talking about this? What was it, a rating game for pussy? If it was, she was pretty sure she did not need to be listening to this. The last thing she needed was to picture Cassian - or worse, Kay - evaluating women’s vaginas.

"But the folds of it. It’s almost ridiculously designed. Like, why have it look like that and feel like that? What’s the point?”

“Because it’s fun. Have you ever watched it up close on camera? People love the way it shines when it’s wet. And if you stick your fingers in it then it starts to get more slick.”

“That’s fucking gross, Kay,” Cassian chuckles. “Look, I get it, but you know other people are wanting to shove other things in it?”

“Now who’s being gross?” Kay grumbles, disappointed.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the desire to touch it like everyone else. It’s messy and if you do it wrong it can get really sticky and that’s just not my thing.”

“Fine. I’ll have to find someone else to compare them with.”

Jyn couldn’t handle it anymore, her whole body flushing with the words. She couldn’t believe they were talking about this - about putting it on camera, no less. And things being sticky. Like, what? She hadn’t pictured Kay the type to disparage women’s bodies - hell, she had assumed he’d never even been with a woman - but here they were talking about how gross they were. And Cassian… though she barely knew him, the idea of it still stung. He’d seemed nice enough but now that she knew he was going to discuss her labia in detail with Kay, suddenly the idea of returning those subtle half-smiles and appraising glances was not as tempting.

Sighing, Jyn turns back to her project and leans her head in her hands, miserable and annoyed with how the evening had turned.

———-

A month passes and Jyn keeps her head down, awkwardly trying to avoid Kay and Cassian whenever she sees them in the building. It’s hard - they seem to be everywhere - but eventually she runs into him and can’t escape during a floor party right before the Reading Week break.

“Mind if I sit here?” Cassian says, pointing to the vacant seat beside her. Jyn looks around at the others and finds no saviours, shrugging in acquiesce towards him. “Thanks. How’s it going?"

"Peachy,” Jyn replies and takes a gulp of her drink, cringing as the vodka stings the back of her throat.

“Same. I haven’t seen you around lately. Were your midterms killer? I near drowned under all of the papers I needed to write.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” He gives her a pointed look and raises his glass to his lips, letting the silence stretch between them.

She debates getting up, abandoning her prime people-watching spot on the couch, before one of the bros from down the hall stumbles down onto the other side of her, his body knocking into her arm and spilling her drink all down her front.

“Mother fucker,” Jyn groans, pulling the wet fabric from her chest. Beside her, Cassian curses and it’s then she sees that the impact has cascaded to him as well, his blue drink soiling his shirt and pants.

“I concur,” he growls and reaches across her to push the kid away. When the bro looks back to challenge her, Cassian lifts up his finger and wags it sharply, puffing himself up and intimidating the kid with just one look. Within seconds they’re left sitting on the couch in a wet mess of vodka and Kool-aid mix.

“Sorry - I didn’t mean to knock your drink too,” she mumbles, getting to her feet. Cassian follows and tosses his cup towards the trash, sighing.

“Not your fault. Just means I gotta head home early.”

“Can’t Kay get you a new shirt?” She questions and the laughs.

“He’s filming something in his room. There’s no way I’m interrupting that,” he adds.

“Alright well - I could give you one of my brother’s sweaters. He leaves them here all the time. It would at least get you home?” She offers with a tentative smile. Cassian brightens, his brow rising in surprise.

“That would be great. If you don’t mind,” he says with a grin. Jyn nods and tucks her chin, motioning out of the common area and towards her room.

Minutes later and they’re standing in her small space, Cassian’s eyes scanning the bedroom with a calm interest. She busies herself digging through her closet and pulling out some of Bodhi’s larger sweaters before handing them to Cassian. Next, she turns to her dresser and pulls out one of her old t-shirts, turning back to face him. The move catches him shirtless, her mouth going dry as she takes in his exposed skin, thin torso and lithe muscles.

“Sorry!” She squeaks, twisting back to face the wall quickly.

“It’s no big deal,” he mumbles as he pulls the fabric over his head. She spares one last glance at his disappearing ‘V’ before she hurries and tears her shirt off to replace it with the new one. In another second she’s unclasping her stained bra and pulling it through the sleeves, tossing it into the laundry hamper near her bed. When she turns back around to face him, she finds Cassian staring at her, his cheeks flushed and his knuckles white as they grasp the fabric in his hands. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to - It’s just - ”

“Nothing I didn’t already see on you,” she manages softly. Their eyes lock and she swallows, the spark from their initial meetings rekindling into a bonfire.

No. Remember what he said! Her brain screams, recalling the overheard conversation and how disgusted he’d been by the women he’d been with.

“Did you maybe, um, want to go get something to eat?” He asks after a drawn out second, hands on his hips. Jyn swallows and clenches her hands together before wrapping her arms around herself.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” she answers. Cassian’s hopeful expression dims and he nods, stepping towards the door.

“Alright. No worries, I get it."

"It’s just,” she pauses, turning around to look at him as he reaches for the door handle. “I heard you and Kay a few weeks ago and I’m not comfortable being one of the conquests you seem to find so disgusting. And I’m definitely not into the taping thing so…”

“Excuse me, but what?” He nearly chokes on the words, his face paling. “What conversation are you talking about?”

“The one where you were grossed out by women’s genitals. You said they were weird and you guys were having a pretty good laugh over it - ”

“Jyn - I don’t know what you think you heard, but that definitely wasn’t it. I’ve never - not once in my life - discussed sex with Kay. If you haven’t noticed already, he’s a bit tough to have those types of conversations with - ”

“But you said he was filming - ”

“He makes YouTube videos. Slime ones. He makes me test out all of the different types and they’re pretty disgusting - ”

“Slime?” Jyn breaks in, confusion filling her brow. Cassian laughs and pulls out his phone, toggling the screen through search and the apps before he pulls up a video.

The screen fills with Kay in a faux laboratory, the video walking through quick steps on how to make the newest batch before he runs the audience through a variety of displays. She remembers watching a video like this before, on another app, and being engrossed in the way the slime moved and shined like a liquid that somehow existed at the same time as a solid.

“So you guys were talking about slime, not WAP?” Jyn jokes, glancing up at Cassian who somehow manages to turn an even more vibrant shade of red.

“Yes."

"Which means you don’t find, er, sex with women gross after all?"

"Do you think I’d be in here trying to ask you out if I did?” He counters to her nervous laugh. Cassian grins down at her, his eyes sparkling in the low light.

“Right. That means you’re not weirded out if I do this?” She asks and reaches up on her toes to brush her lips against his. He freezes for a moment, unresponsive, before suddenly he’s reaching his hands out to grab her waist, one hand lifting up to cup her chin.

Jyn groans because she can’t handle his returning enthusiasm, his tongue grazing the seam of her lips and slipping inside. The whole kiss catches her off guard with how good it is, his chest pressing into hers and his teeth nipping gently when she has to break away to gasp for breath.

“And to think I almost kicked you out,” she says against his lips, her breath heaving as his body shakes with laughter in her arms.

“I can’t believe you thought we were talking about that,” he replies. Jyn shrugs and meets his gaze with her own.

“I only caught bits of it. The walls are pretty thin, you know. It’s easy to think you’re hearing one thing when you’re not.”

“Really? So if we - and not saying we need to - but if we got up to anything, your neighbours would probably hear it?” He counters thoughtfully, his thumbs grazing the skin of her hip from where her shirt has ridden up.

“There’s a pretty good chance Kay would definitely hear,” she states and lets her nails graze through the hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes alight and she thinks she’s definitely never felt a warmth like this spread through her, the burn of want flaring up in her belly. Stars, how was he this attractive?

“Would you, perhaps one day, want to test that theory?” He whispers, his voice cracking almost like he wasn’t sure he could get away with asking it. Jyn grins like a cheshire cat back at him and raises a brow.

“Could that one day be now? I’m still not 100% sure I believe that you weren’t talking about women’s bits,” she jokes. Her gaze catches the visible swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing and his fingers tensing against her skin before his thumbs slip into the band of her pants.

“Well, I’ll just have to prove it to you,” he replies and ducks his head to kiss her once more.

The kiss is intense, his mouth exploring hers as he guides them across the room until her back is pressed against the wood of the door. She drops a hand to the lock and flicks it closed as Cassian lets a small approving sound escape his throat. In another second he’s reaching for her knee, pulling her leg up to wrap around his hip so he can grind himself against her. The angle is awkward, just missing contact where she wants him most, and so she wraps her arms around his neck and drags him close enough to pin her so that she can lift her other leg and not fall to the floor.

“Mierda,” he hisses, dropping his hands to her ass to more fully support her. She gasps into his mouth and tangles her fingers in his hair, nipping her way along his chin to his ear and neck. Cursing into her skin, Cassian squeezes her butt and backs away from the door, walking determinedly towards the bed and dropping her onto it.

Together, they tear the clothes from their bodies in a rush, shirts and pants thrown to the floor until they’re clad only in their underwear. Jyn lay sprawled across her mattress as Cassian stands at the foot of her bed, his gaze appraising.

“How could I find someone like you unappealing?” He murmurs thoughtfully, pausing as she sits up on her forearms to look at him, naked from the waist up.

“A lot of guys do. They’re so focused on their own enjoyment that they won’t even bother to give any effort. You wouldn’t be the first - “

“Well, I’m not them. May I?” He asks softly, reaching his fingers into the elastic of her underwear. Brows furrowing, Jyn meets his gaze head on.

“You don’t have to. I mean, I’m clean and everything so if you want, I’d be okay with just a good dicking down,” she counters on a false laugh, knowing perfectly well how college hook-ups were supposed to go. She wouldn’t hold it against him if he was only interested in getting his dick wet - he wouldn’t be the first and he wouldn’t be the last to disappoint her, she was used to it by now.

“I’m clean too. I wouldn’t be okay with it though - I don’t want to just use you like that. But I won’t force you if you don’t want - “

“Oh,” she pauses, confused by his sincerity and the burning look in his eyes. He looked thirsty, like a man finding an oasis in the desert. “I mean, I won’t tell you not to, if you want to, that is. But you don’t have to is what I’m saying.”

“I’ll be clear then - I want to go down on you. I want to taste you,” he adds and the rasp in his voice makes her believe it more than anything else in this world. She feels herself get even wetter, if that was even possible, as he watches her slow nod of disbelief. Dragging his knuckles along her legs, Jyn helps him discard the underwear before she moves to climb back further on the mattress. He shakes his head and tugs her knees, pulling her to the edge of the bed before settling down before her. “If you want me to stop at any point, just say the word. Don’t be afraid to show me what you like - I’m an honour student. I learn quickly,” he adds and Jyn can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes her at his words.

“Of course you are,” she manages and she’s about to follow it up with another quip but is cut short by his mouth between her legs, his nose bumping against her clit and his tongue - gods, his tongue - dipping and licking at her folds. She nearly chokes as the feel of it burns through her, her brain shorting out as he moves and experiments with his strokes.

She never - well, not never - but never this good - has had a man go down on her with such gusto. His attention to detail - the way he returns to the best spot after listening to her moans - and the way he holds her hips to keep her from rolling away from him when it becomes almost too much makes her see stars and she quickly finds herself racing towards the precipice. Her nails dig into his wrists, her knees tightening against his shoulders, as he runs her up one side of the mountain before guiding her slowly back down. When his fingers join his mouth she almost screams, the way he presses against a spot inside her making dots appear in her vision. It feels too good, so insanely good, that she can’t help tipping over the edge and curling into herself as he drags out her orgasm for another drawn minute.

“Fucking hell,” she growls, her throat raw and her body mush as his lips press kisses across her thighs, over her hip bone and across her stomach.

“Do you still think I find women’s genitals gross?” He asks softly, glancing up towards her with a quirk in his brow.

“Was all that just to prove me wrong?” She counters, challenging him lowly and keeping her eyes closed as the last jolts of her release roll through her.

“I said I was going to, didn’t I?” He chuckles.

Jyn shakes her head and reaches for him, hands grappling at his shoulders and tugging him upwards. He goes slowly, his mouth trailing across her skin and leaving gooseflesh in its wake. It’s almost too slow, she thinks, as he finally reaches her chest and mouths at her breast, the twinge of it flashing hot and sharp between her legs. He was going to kill her with his attention. She was going to die and he was going to ruin every man for her after this.

Unless… She runs her fingers through his hair as he draws her nipple into his mouth, her fist clenching as he gently bites it then laves it with his tongue. The sensation makes her body hum and she turns the tables on him, pulling his hair and rolling her hips to force him onto his back. It seems to catch him off guard and he looks up at her with wide eyes, his lips turning up in the hint of a dangerous smile. Straddling his waist, Jyn runs her hands over his chest to push him flat onto his back, her head cocking to the side as she evaluates him.

“Is it my turn now?” She murmurs, nails grazing the hair on his chest and following the trail down to the crux of his hips.

“Be my guest,” he answers gruffly to her returning smirk.

Not wanting to delay any further, she snakes her way down his torso, her mouth dragging across his skin until she’s kneeling at the edge of the bed. She makes quick work of releasing his length from his boxers, tossing the fabric to the side and palming him with her hand. His hips buck up into her grip and she gives him a slight squeeze, revelling in the way his breathing skips a beat.

“This okay?” She asks, running her hand up and down his shaft. Her breath coasts over his skin and he groans, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“I won’t last long if you’re not careful,” he breathes tightly.

“S’okay. I like the challenge.” He hums his response and she dips her head to take him in her mouth, his frame practically vibrating below her. Small beads of pre-cum spill from his tip and she lets her tongue dart out to grab them, the taste of him causing a thrill to run through her. Was this what he felt only moments ago? No wonder he’d been so enthusiastic - the power and the desire of it was near throwing her brain into overdrive.

Continuing on her efforts, Jyn moves her mouth and hand in tandem for another few moments, listening for his cues and reacting to the approving little groans and the tightening of his fingers in her hair. Just when she thinks she’s found the best pattern, his hand drops from her hair to his length and he squeezes his fingers around his base, his other hand guiding her face back away from him.

“Did I - ?” She asks, looking up at him as he clenches his eyes shut.

“No,” he grunts, breathing deep gulps of air into his lungs. “Too good. I almost came.”

“Oh,” she whispers, trying to hide her satisfied smile. “I wouldn’t have minded if you - “

“Don’t say it. I’m trying not to cum and if you finish that sentence I’m not sure I can hold it together and fuck you like I want to,” he grumbles and Jyn nearly laughs, holding her breath and pulling back and away from him so she can lay beside him as he fights his way back from the edge.

“Well, how do you usually calm yourself down? Should I talk about Kay? Or the slime? Would that help?” She asks, running her hand across his chest. He shakes his head and releases his cock from his grip, his eyes turning to look over at her.

“I don’t want to back off that much,” he replies evenly, his breathing still heavy as his gaze flickers over her. She smiles softly then, appreciating the heat in his expression and the tenderness that seems to hide in the crinkles of his eyes. She could get lost in him, if she wasn’t smart about it.

“Cassian,” she starts, measuring her words as his body slowly relaxes next to her.

“Yeah?” His voice is gravelly and it sends small bursts of want to her core, her hand slowly drifting back down his belly.

“Can I fuck you now, or do you want - “

“Jesus, Jyn,” he responds and reaches for her, hands desperate as he pulls her to his chest and his lips find hers. The kiss is bruising but she lives for it, giving as good as she gets as she throws a leg over his hips and straddles him once more. She pulls away to reach for her drawer, stretching and trying to focus on grabbing a condom as he sucks her nipple into his mouth. The pressure is thoroughly distracting and when she settles back on her knees she barely has time to reset herself and open the packet before his fingers are circling her clit. It feels too good and she crumples forward, her forehead resting against his chest as he dips a finger inside her. “You’re so wet for me already. I love feeling how turned on you are. It’s nothing like the slime that - “

“I swear to god, Cassian,” she grumbles, laughing and pulling back to catch the grin on his lips. She reclaims his mouth for a kiss and in her distraction he grabs the packet from her fist and tears it open, rolling the rubber down his length in one smooth motion.

One second she’s sitting atop him, the next she’s swung onto her back, his body trapping her against the bed as he settles between her thighs. She can’t stop kissing him. Won’t. Not as he slides his length against her slit, not as his palm runs up beneath her knee, guiding her open for him. When he presses into her, bit-by-fatally-slow-bit, she finally breaks and cries out, clinging to his shoulders and gasping against his neck.

“Fuck,” he hisses when he’s finally buried deep within her, his breath panting into her shoulder. “You feel so fucking good.” She nods because forming words is impossible. Instead, she rocks her hips up and feels him stutter and clench his hands, his forehead pressing against hers. “Give me a second, por favor.” She nods because she needs it to, her body slowly adjusting to the size of him within her walls.

Eventually, he does start to move and Jyn feels herself tumbling, head over heels down into pure lust for him. Her mouth barely leaves his skin and her heart races, desperate to keep up as he begins to thrust earnestly into her. Each collision leaves her breathless, her body on fire as he rests her leg in the crux of his elbow. Sweat prickles at their brows and when he falters, his throat releasing a small sound, Jyn only holds onto him tighter as his pace picks up. She is right there on the edge of her orgasm when he cries out, a guttural sound that has him pushing himself in to his hilt, his arms desperately grasping at her and pulling her close. He cums with his mouth on her throat, one hand in her hair and the other wrapped around her shoulder, holding her to him.

She’d been so close.

So fucking close.

The disappointment starts to flicker to life but is quickly stomped out when his hips jerk and his mouth moves up her neck to her lips, the deep kiss joined by a shift in his body. His hand drops from her shoulder to between their frames, easing its way down until his fingers are sliding against where they’re joined and then working back up to her clit. He circles her once and she keens, exploding back to life as her release comes back into reach. Rotating her hips up, Jyn writhes herself against him, riding what remains of his erection and his hand, desperately seeking the relief he is determined to give her. When she falls apart again it’s with a sharp yelp, the orgasm slamming into her and causing her to clench around his softening length. He slips out just as her body is relaxing back into the bed, boneless and spent, before he flops down next to her.

Together they lay in exhausted silence, their breaths slowly easing and their flushed, sweaty skin drying in the cool air of the room as they both stare at the ceiling.

“So,” Jyn says after her heart rate has once again returned to normal. “Was I better than slime? Or is that still your preferred method of getting off?”

“I’m pretty sure we determined early on in this conversation that slime is not something I’m into,” he chides in return, glancing towards her. She’s just about to make a quip about it when his phone buzzes, his brow raising in challenge. “What do you want to bet that’s Kay right now?”

“He wouldn’t - what did you tell him?” Jyn asks sharply, sitting up and looking at him with a terrified expression.

“Nothing! I just asked him to keep an eye out if you were dating anyone. He’s probably texting me to complain about all the noise you just made - “ She slaps his chest and he laughs, grabbing her hand and holding it. “ - And how you ruined his video. I’ll have to get you a copy of the b-roll, just to see how thin these walls actually are.”

“I don’t - if I was dating anyone? Why would you want him to spy on me?”

“It wasn’t spying, per se. But if you were happily with some other guy, well, I wasn’t going to make it awkward for you where you live by asking you out. Figured if he did a bit of recon first we could all avoid the situation.”

“Okay, fair. Get your phone - I want to see our review,” Jyn urges and Cassian laughs, rolling to the edge of the bed and grabbing for his pants. He pulls out his phone and plants his feet on the ground, opening the screen to the message which is indeed from Kay.

She’s loud and inconsiderate of others. I stand by my earlier assertion that she’s chaos. You really shouldn’t have slept with her - Kay, 10:28pm

Jyn snorts as she reads the message over his shoulder, resting her chin on his collar. “Looks like he knew it was you in here, Hot Stuff. Do you have a secret tell that gives you away that maybe I missed?”

I can hear you. Please try to be more considerate of your neighbours, Jyn Erso - Kay, 10:30pm

“I’m definitely going to get that b-roll footage,” Cassian whispers and turns to look at her, a wide smile on his face. Jyn can’t stop the thought that his smile was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, her heart hammering in her chest as he twists to capture her lips once more. When he draws back this time it’s almost reluctant, his fingers grazing her cheek slowly before dropping to his lap. “Can I interest you in some food now? My treat?”

“Didn’t you already eat?” She counters with a raised brow. Cassian laughs and gets to his feet, pulling her up into his arms.

“Yeah, but that was soul food. Now I need actual food,” he responds and Jyn nearly misses a step, the goofy smile on her face at his words spreading as she thinks about what he’s said.

Good sex and a decent guy? She could get used to this.

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fic #lollercakes tries to write

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prolestariwrites · 4 years

Photo

The Wish [1]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

A/N: Hooray for a new story! This story takes place sometime between DMC4 and DMC5. Thank you to @solynacea for reading and lending her OC for this fic. If you’re read Promise Me Forever you might recognize Lir, but she is completely different in this fic, so I hope you like it! I’ll be publishing about every week since I’m mostly finished. Your comments are always appreciated, and you can check this out on AO3 and FFNet too!

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Chapter 1: Be Careful What You Wish For

“Nero!” Dante’s voice echoes down the hallway as he peers through the rush of demons, swinging Rebellion as best as he is able as he scans for him. “You good?”

“Need help already?” The kid sounds nearby, but down a ways, and Dante snorts at the smart-aleck response. He bites back a response, remembering what it was like to be nineteen and feel invincible, to have power and stamina and enjoy the rush of killing demons.

It’s different now that he is older, the moves as familiar as breathing, the enemies mundane as paint drying. Meeting Nero and getting to know the kid, training him, especially with his suspicions all but confirmed, has breathed new life into the legendary devil hunter: but it’s still just a regular Friday night, clearing out another warehouse that houses another cell of demons for another client that’s just going to bitch about the holes left in the walls.

Dante continues pushing forward, slicing off arms and heads as he goes. There has to be a queen mother up ahead; no way this many slipped through a portal, these babies were bred. Maybe getting to the big bad will be interesting, and then he and Nero can stop before going into Fortuna to get a drink or six. Maybe he’ll even let Dante crash on the couch, now that he and Kyrie have set up in a house in town and have the room.

The drone of Red Queen suddenly cuts off, the lack of white noise catching his attention. “Nero?” he calls again, but this time instead of a snarky comment two shots ring out in response, followed by the entire building shaking as a roar goes up from inside. “Nero!” Dante shouts, slicing as he doubles his speed, actually trying now so he can find the kid and find out why the hell he needed his gun in such close quarters. Either he forgot one of Dante’s rules for demon hunting (“don’t shoot a gun in a tight space, dumbass”) or he’s in trouble.

Turns out it’s trouble—well, sort of. They are on the third floor, having been going methodically through each level to clear it out, and when Dante skids to a stop in the central part where the elevators are, he finds them gone. Instead, there is a huge hole where the elevators used to be, the concrete and iron in a heap below them where it had collapsed.

He looks up to see Nero on the other side of the giant hole, wiping his brow with his forearm. “You okay, kid?” Dante calls over.

“Yeah,” Nero shouts with a bit of a laugh. “I got them corralled but I guess the weight was too much. Just managed to jump out of the way.”

Dante shakes his head. “Stay there and I’ll come get you.”

“Nah, I got this. There’s gotta be a set of fire stairs at the end.” Nero points Red Queen towards the dark hallway behind him. “Let’s make sure that was the last of them. I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

“Yeah.” Dante sighs as he watches Nero go, and then looks around at where the floor and elevators had broken from the supports and given way. No way the weight made this happen; you could probably park a semi in here and it would hold. The building is structurally sound, supposed to be anyway, and it would take more than a few dozen demons to knock a hole in it. No, something made the floor collapse, and his gaze goes upwards, wondering where the queen bee could be hiding.

Dante doubles back and finds his staircase, taking the steps two at a time upwards. The hallways are eerily empty after the deluge in the bottom floors, and he stalks carefully through, checking each office. The damn place has a thousand places to hide, so there is no telling where the big bad could be.

On the top floor, lucky number seven, he hits the jackpot. The second he steps out from the stairwell Ebony and Ivory are drawn as he picks his way through the nest that covers the walls and floor and even ceiling. The emergency lights give a weird glow to everything, but his demon eyes can see clearly in the dim light as he listens carefully for movement.

He finds the demon in the corner office, thinking it has good taste and laughing at his own joke. At first he doesn’t see the queen, but a shift in the air catches his eye and he fires both guns into the dark, smiling at the sound of bullets making their impact.

With a wail it emerges from the shadow, clutching its chest. “What did you do that for?” the demon yells.

“Eviction notice, numbnuts,” he says. “Time to head back to wherever the fuck you came from.”

“I can’t,” the demon argues. “I have my eggs to hatch, my babies to look after—”

“Babies?” Dante chuckles, scratching his head as he places his other hand on his hip. “Sorry, I think I killed all of ‘em.”

The demon snarls. But instead of threatening him, Dante is surprised when it asks, “What do you want?”

“What?” he blinks.

“What do you want? To leave me alone?”

Dante huffs. “Don’t work like that, sweetheart.”

The demon moves closer and he aims his guns again. It starts to unfold itself from its spot, and Dante’s eyebrows go up to see it’s probably almost seventeen feet tall, completely squished into the office. “My name is Veguaniel,” it says. “I am the demon of fortune.”

“Good for you.”

“How much do you want?” the demon asks. “How much are you being paid to kill me? I can double it. Triple it even.”

“Are you serious?” he groans. “I don’t do this for the money.”

The demon looks him up and down. “That’s obvious.”

“Watch it.” He points the guns at its head, and the demon shrinks back a bit.

“I want to pay you! I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams! You’d never have to slaughter the innocents like me again!” Dante snorts as it tilts its head. “You can’t possibly like doing this.”

He cocks the hammer on each gun. “Not about liking it. About paying the bills.”

The demon gives an annoyed huff. “This is what I’m saying. I can make you rich. I can buy you whatever you want. There’s got to be something you’d rather be doing than this. Would you like a mansion? A yacht? How about a palace?”

Dante chuckles to himself, but admits it’s almost tempting. Suppose this demon has some fortune granting power? He tries to think of himself as some fancy millionaire and fails. To be honest, all he would really want is a nice house and a nicer bike. Maybe work on engines, build things? Meet a pretty girl with a sharp wit and killer smile and settle down, like Nero and Kyrie have.

“This is stupid,” he says. “Not gonna happen.”

“So why do you do it?” it asks. “There must be something a god of fortune can give you for one tiny, little favor.”

Dante growls under his breath, his patience out. “I’m a devil hunter because I’ve been hunted by demons my whole life,” he snaps. “Ever since you fuckers came down on my house when I was a kid, killed my family, and then made my life miserable. Getting paid is just a bonus.”

“Hmmm.” A tentacle slithers out and taps on the demon’s cheek, as if it is thinking. “Did that make you sad?”

“What?”

“Did losing your family and all that make you sad?”

“What the hell? Of course it did!” Dante snaps. “But I don’t see why—”

“So you wouldn’t be a demon hunter if they hadn’t died, is that it?” The demon’s voice trails off, and Dante frowns. “I can grant you a fortune that has nothing to do with money. Would you like your family back?”

He grits his teeth, anger starting to bubble. “Shut the hell up.”

The demon bares its teeth in a grotesque smile. “Done.”

The floor gives way, and Dante shouts as he falls, firing upwards. He gets a glance of the demon waving to him just moments before he lands headfirst on the concrete and the world goes black.

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The squeak of the shower turning on wakes him. Dante opens his eyes and immediately regrets it, pain piercing his temples like an ice pick to the brain. “Damn it,” he sighs, reaching up to rub his forehead.

The ceiling is white, not the faded yellow of his place, so he figures he must be at Nero’s. Damn, did the kid have to find him and save his ass? He’ll never live this down, and as he stretches his stiff limbs he sighs and closes his eyes again.

He remembers the warehouse and the demons, and Nero getting separated. Then he had found the head at the top of the building and it had… asked him about his family? Dante frowns, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. Demons are getting fucking weirder by the day.

He enjoys the few minutes of quiet until the shower turns off. Dante sighs, moving to roll over and sit up. Either Nero or Kyrie are in there, so he figures he’ll go downstairs and give them privacy, but when he sits up he notices two things. First, he’s in just his boxers, which is weird because that means Nero undressed him. Also, he doesn’t own boxers, preferring to let his junk ride free, knowing the ladies liked how it looked in tight denim.

Second, their bedroom is way different than it was. He’s been there a few times but he helped Nero paint the house and their bedroom was definitely green. Dante remembers this because Nero had bitched about the color to him because he couldn’t to Kyrie. But the bedroom is now a soft shade of blue, and he wonders if the kid finally confessed that the color sage reminded him of puke.

The door to the bathroom opens and a woman walks out wrapped in a towel. He blinks when it’s immediately obvious it is not Kyrie: this one is shorter, slimmer, her platinum hair almost white like his and falling in a trendy bob style at her shoulders. The woman takes no notice of him, moving to a set of drawers and opening the top one.

“Uh, excuse me?” Dante says.

The woman looks over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Who are you?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Har har, very funny.” She goes back to pulling out clothes and says, “I know I said I’d never work on a Saturday, but Jenny’s kid is sick and I didn’t have the heart to make her come in. But I promise it’s only a half shift, and I’ll be home by two.”

That doesn’t answer his question at all, but before he can point that out she drops the towel. Dante spins quickly, his heart pounding as he yanks the sheet up over his lap, hissing, “What are you doing?”

“I told you, I’m covering for Jenny. It’ll be easy enough for a Saturday. It’s a nice day out, nobody goes to the library when it’s sunny.” Dante peeks over to see her thankfully wearing a bra and panties, which he stares at for a moment before remembering he shouldn’t be staring. He looks down at his own lack of clothes and frowns, wondering if it’s her house he slept in. Does that mean they had sex? Maybe he and Nero made it to the bar after all and he got lucky?

Not bad, he thinks as he looks back to where she is shimmying on a pair of jeans. She’s cute enough at least, gorgeous even, although he wishes he could remember her name. “Hey, uh—”

“Don’t forget to be ready by five,” she says, rolling on deodorant. Then she glances over at him and frowns. “You okay?”

“No. Yes. Sorry, five?”

Dante frowns and she laughs. “Yes. Reservations are at five-thirty and you know if we’re a minute late your brother will start complaining.”

That gets his attention, and Dante feels the blood drain from his face. “My… brother?”

“Yes. It’s your parents’ anniversary. Remember?” Dressed now, she runs a brush through her hair as she sighs. “Please tell me you didn’t forget. This has been planned for weeks.”

Dante jumps up and stalks towards her, pulling the brush from her hand and grabbing her elbow to turn her. She only comes up to about his shoulders, and his expression goes menacing as he glares down at her surprised one. “What do you know about my parents?”

“Dante, what in the world? What is wrong with you?” The concern in her voice tempers him a bit, and she pulls her arm away to press a palm to his cheek. She examines his eyes closely as she asks, “Are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head or something? You look strange.”

“I…” I fell, he wants to say, but she brushes his jaw gently. “Why don’t you take it easy today? You’ll have the whole house to yourself. Get some coffee and just relax, and when I get home we’ll see how you feel, okay?”

Did losing your family and all that make you sad? Where did that come from? “What about my parents?” he asks again harshly.

She takes a steady breath. “It’s the thirteenth. Their fiftieth wedding anniversary. We’re all going out to dinner to celebrate.” Then she rubs his arm gently, and it’s then that he notices the band on her ring finger. His eyes go wide, and startled, he looks at his own left hand, where a matching gold band sits on his fourth finger.

His blood is pounding in his ears so loudly he barely hears her goodbye. “Just stay home and relax,” she says, and when she reaches up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek it pulls Dante back to the present.

He watches her walk through the room and grab her purse just as she reaches the door. Then he is left blinking as the door shuts, the sound of his raging heartbeat still thundering in his ears.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante sparda #dmc vergil #dmc nero #dmc fanfiction #fanfiction #the wish

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 82

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007

The storm rolls in shortly before nine; torrential rain and howling winds that rattle the windows, bend tree branches, and strip them of leaves. Both the thunder and lightning are intense and incessant; resounding booms that seem to shake the entire house and forks of silver that slice through the coal black sky. The sudden change in weather does little to improve Tyler’s mood; the pressure in the air bringing a migraine that settles in both temples and over his left eye. While the sadness and hints of guilt, regret, and even embarrassment have faded, they’ve been replaced with emotions much more profound and unsettling. Immense hatred. Blinding rage. A desperate and powerful want and need for revenge.

It’s been almost three months since it all began. Kicking off with Mahajan’s badgering of his son in regards to taking over the ‘family business’, escalating into threats against his family that grew more disturbing with each passing day, and culminating in an unwanted return to Dhaka. It’s complicated and twisted; each hour brings an added layer that only pushes the finish line further and further away. His physical pain may be worsening; but it’s his mental stability that is the most concerning. Unable to turn off the emotionally driven side of him and solely look at things from a mercenary’s point of view. He knows he’s on the edge; barely hanging on his last shred of sanity. The games have taken their toll; hearing vile things about his wife and children serving as the final nails in the coffin. Even if he does survive with his body intact, he’s not sure if his brain will be as fortunate. It’s a no win situation. Whether it’s a busted up body or a broken mind, he’ll suffer either way. And so will his family.

He places a call to Kyle’s cell phone, grimacing at the pain that shoots through his right leg and across the small of his back as he takes a seat at the end of the bed. Anil had one of his ‘people’ stop by; a physician originally from Mumbai who’d not only taken the CEO position at one of Dhaka’s private hospitals, but holds the utmost contempt for both the ghost of Amir Asif and those still pledging loyalty to him.

“He’s been dead for seven years,” he’d said. “Yet he’s still sending me patients and putting bodies in my morgue. Old, young; his drugs and his people do not discriminate.”

That had been the extent of conversation. No small talk exchanged as he put Tyler through a series of physical tests to determine the state of his mobility issues. The doctor offering little more than heavy sighs and shakes of head as he discovered things were worse than he initially suspected. Torn ligaments and tendons, the disintegration of cartilage, scar tissue. A lengthy list of things that could be causing problems but would definitely have to be properly -and extensively- investigated by a specialist. For the time being, there’s nothing anyone can do, aside from prescribing yet another painkiller with strict orders that someone else be in charge of dispensing it. He can’t be trusted to do it himself; the first one to admit that he has absolutely no control over the demon of drug addiction. And he’d been more than happy to hand over the responsibility; as long as he’d get some relief.

So far he's pleasantly surprised; the two pills he’d taken an hour ago successfully -and quickly- taking the edge off without making him feel ‘doped up’. The pain is still present, but nowhere as intense or unbearable. Relegated to a dull, continuous throb akin to the agony of a bad toothache.

Kyle answers on the third ring, giving a quick ‘hey’ followed by “I’ll get one of the kids for you.” It’s the first time they’ve spoken since right before he and Esme had left for Dhaka; Kyle still sore over the fact he’d been called out for his poor treatment of his sister.

“Hold up,” Tyler says, smirking at the sound of his brother in law’s heavy sigh. “How’s things there? And don’t bullshit me.”

“Things are okay.”

“Okay as in good or okay as in they could be better?"

“If you’re just asking about the kids, then things are okay as in good. Ovi and I are making sure we keep them busy; filling their days up. And they’re happy as they can be when they’re missing both their mom and dad as much as they are. It’s hard on them; both of you being gone. But they’re doing alright. They’re coping. We’re busting our asses to make sure they don’t catch wind of what’s really going on.”

“Thanks for that. Esme and I appreciate it. Keep an eye on Millie though. She figured everything out, and while she promised she wouldn’t say anything to her brothers, I wouldn’t put it past her if they pissed her off enough. Nothing she loves more than tormenting those two.”

Kyle gives a small chuckle. “I’ll keep an eye on her. There hasn’t been any actual fights so far, but she has threatened to beat their asses a few times. You know, she’s a mind fuck that kid. She’s so sweet and cute to look at…

“But she’s a total savage,” Tyler finishes for him.

“Exactly. She doesn’t take any shit. Esme was like that as a kid; no one dared messing with her because she’d beat the ever loving hell out of them. Small, but tough. How is she? She doing okay?”

“She’s hanging in there. Just ready for all this to be over. Sooner the better. Anything going on there? Anything weird or suspicious or…”

“Other than Anil going ape shit on all the nannies and replacing them all? Things have been pretty quiet. There’s been a couple little things here and there; people getting too close to the house, calling here and hanging up, dead cat thrown over the fence.”

“That’s all rookie stuff. Someone trying to unnerve ya. I wouldn’t put too much stock into it; guys who can really do damage start bigger and end even bigger. They don’t bother with bullshit like that. You’ll call, yeah? If things get any weirder?”

“I will,” Kyle promises. “Keep my little sister safe, okay? I wish she wasn’t involved in this at all, but..”

“She’s safe with me. She always is. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do. But I wish she’d never gotten dragged into all of this in the first place. And I’m not talking now. I’m talking seven years ago. If you’d just thought of her instead of yourself…”

“Is that daddy?” Millie’s voice interrupts Kyle before he can launch into his tirade. “Mommy said daddy was going to call us. Is that him? Can I talk to him? I want to talk to him.”

There’s a slight rustling noise as the phone is passed from person to person, and the first smile of the day manages to make its way to his face when his daughter greets him with a cheerful “Hi daddy! I miss you!”

He tries not to think about it; the threat made against her and the knowledge of what would be done to her. She’s only six. Still a baby. HIS baby. “Hey,” he says. “Hey baby girl.”

“Mommy said you’d call and you did! She said you were feeling a bit sad ‘cause you miss us so much.”

“I am a bit sad,” Tyler admits. “I do miss you guys. You being good?”

“I’m trying. But TJ really tests my patience. He’s so annoying! Why does he have to be so annoying?”

“Because he knows it bothers you. Just try to ignore him”

“It’s hard!” Millie laments. “It’s really, REALLY hard. It’s like he wants me to punch him in the face.”

“Well I’d rather you didn’t punch anyone in the face.”

“But I’m not a pacifist. I’d rather ‘pass a fist’.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“I’m not a snitch. Snitches get stitches.”

“How about you rein in your temper a bit,” he suggests. “Just take it from the source. He’s doing it to get a reaction. Don’t give him one. That’ll irritate him and he’ll get bored and back off. How are you? You doing okay?”

“I’m okay, I guess. I miss home. Can we go back soon? Are you almost done your work? I really want to go home.”

“So do I. And it’ll be over soon.”

“And then you and mommy will come and get us and take us home?”

“As soon as it’s over. Once it’s done, we’ll come and get you guys. I promise.”

“Maybe next time we go on a trip, we can go to Disney World. That would be fun.”

“Have you been talking to Tanner?”

“Maybe…” Millie sing songs.

“Tell you what, when we get home, your mom and I will talk about it, okay?”

“Okay. Is it stormy where you are? It’s really stormy here. It’s kinda scary! The thunder is really loud and it’s really windy. It never gets THIS bad at home. We get storms, but they’re not as scary as this one. I wish you were here; it wouldn’t be as scary. You always built a fort in the living room so we can all sleep together and we won’t be afraid. You always make it fun. Like we’re on a camping trip. We forget about being scared when you’re with us. I wish you were here, daddy.”

He swallows around the lump of emotion sitting square in his throat. “I wish I was there too.”

“Did you watch my video? I sent it to your email. Did you get it?”

“I did. But I haven’t watched it yet. I was going to do that before bed. So I could have good dreams instead of bad ones.”

“That’s a good idea! Maybe you can send ME a video and I can watch it before bed and that way I’LL have good dreams too.”

“You know what I’ll do? I’ll make a video for all of you and then you can all watch it before bed. Sound good?”

“Sounds good!”

“I gotta go. I’ve got an important meeting I have to get to. But I’ll make the video and I’ll send it to Auntie Nik’s email. You tell her I’m doing that, okay?”

“Okay. I miss you, daddy. I love you.”

“I miss you too. And I love you. ALL of you. So much. And I’ll see you guys in a few days.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah.” He hopes he sounds more confident than he feels. “I promise.”

****

It takes four attempts before he gets a usable video to send to the kids; trying to keep it light and cheerful and finding himself stumbling over his words and fighting back tears. The last thing he wanted was to turn a bedtime message into something so dark and depressing. Even Millie -who is incredibly intuitive and had known from the start that Mumbai wasn’t a normal family holiday- doesn’t know the full extent of just how serious things are. He doesn’t want to scare them; seeing daddy emotional will only cause them to ask questions no one truly has answers for. And it would only send their fears and anxiety -especially Tanner’s- through the roof. In the end he’d been able to hold it together. Reciting one of their favorite bedtime stories by heart and telling them how much he loves them and misses them; promising that they’ll all be heading home soon. The latter had actually helped lift his own spirits. Saying the words out loud doing wonders for his confidence; the promise itself -and not wanting to break it- giving his motivation a desperately needed kick in the ass.

By the time he journeys downstairs, Yaz has already arrived; joining Esme, Koen, Rata and two of Anil’s men -who’d been ordered to help out in each and every way possible- in the living room. And the younger man pauses in the setting up of his laptop in order to greet Tyler with a warm, tight hug and a playful backhand to an unshaven cheek. He sees the exhaustion that clouds Yaz’ eyes and dampens his smile; his own fears and worries revolving around a heavily pregnant girlfriend back home. It’s been hell on everyone; long hours and restless sleep and one stumbling block after another. There’s finally some light at the end of that very long and winding tunnel. It’s faint, but at least it’s there.

He pours himself a coffee from the freshly brewed pot in the kitchen and then joins the others. Returning Esme’s smile as she looks up at him, giving her a wink before taking a seat beside her and then pressing a kiss to her temple as he leans into her. Her hand slides along his inner thigh and then settles on his knee; squeezing lightly before her fingers locate the most tender area and begin digging and manipulating. She doesn’t need to be asked; always knowing where the painful spots are and never hesitating to provide even the smallest bit of relief.

“I hope this weather isn’t some kind of bloody omen,” Raka grumbles. Nervously bouncing his legs and both jumping and looking towards the sliding glass doors with each boom of thunder that shakes the house.

“Forty damn years old and he’s scared of a wee storm,” Koen scoffs.

Rata glares at him. “A wee storm? Sounds like Mother Nature is getting ready to blow shit up!”

“Do you need your favorite blanket? A warm bottle of milk? Someone to cuddle with you? It’s nothing but some wind and a bit of rain.”

“That’s more than just some wind and some rain!” his friend argues. “It’s like the end of the world out there! And if this some kind of omen about how things are going to go down…”

“Ain’t no bloody omen!” Koen laughs “Don’t tell me you believe in all that shit. Signs and karma and all that hoodoo voodoo, hocus pocus crap!”

“I d0n’t know,” Esme says, as she reaches for a mug of tea sitting on the coffee table. “I like to think that karma exists and that it finally caught up to my ex. Because if anyone deserved to be hit head on by the karma bus, it was him.”

Tyler nods in agreement and takes a swig of coffee.

“So what’s it looking like?” Koen addresses Yaz. “End getting close or what?”

“Depends on what news you guys have for me. I know where I stand on my end of things. What about over here?”

“I was able to get an extra twenty four hours,” Esme says. “But I really had to up the ante; an extra five million wasn’t going to cut it. I had to promise another ten. I tried to talk them down, but it was either the extra ten or pieces of Neysa and Aarev start washing up on the shores of Buriganga in a few days' time.”

“And Anil was willing to up that much?” Yaz asks. “IF it comes down to having to pay the ransom?”

“He didn’t hesitate when I told him. I don’t know where he gets all his money from, but he acted like it was nothing more than pocket change. He’s prepared to pay IF all else fails. But they still won’t give me proof of life unless I agree to meet them at Asif’s house and have them take me to where they’re being held.”

“Which is NOT happening,” Tyler says. “There’s no way in hell that’s happening.”

“Now hold on a second,” Koen speaks up. “It’s the way that makes the most sense.”

Tyler frowns. “What are you talking about? It makes no sense. You really think they’re going to keep their word? That they won’t hurt her? They’ll use her as bait. She won’t get anywhere near Neysa and Aarev; they won’t take her there. They’ll keep her at Asif’s and do God knows what to her until I show up to get her out.”

“She won’t be going alone,” Koen points out.

“I don’t give a shit if there’s ten of you going with her. She’s not doing this. She’s not going there. No fucking way.”

“But when they take her there...US there...you just follow behind and…”

“You’re not hearing me, mate. They won’t take her anywhere. They’ll kill you, then use her to bait me. And they’ll do all kinds of sick and twisted shit to her. You’re just going to take them at their word that they won’t hurt her? I know you’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you’re not THAT stupid.”

“Okay….” Esme speaks up. “...why don’t we all calm down and talk through all of this rationally. There’s got to be another way to find out where Neysa and Aarev are that doesn’t involve having to go to Asif’s house. We all know it’s a trap. We can’t trust a single word they say and there no doubt in my mind they’d keep me in order to get Tyler to show up.”

“She’s NOT going,” Tyler stresses. “End of story. After tonight, her part in this is down. She did everything we needed her to do. Enough’s enough. I’m not risking her or the…” he catches himself. “...I’m not risking her. We gotta find another way.”

“I think I have one.” Yaz says. “It unfortunately does involve sending people to Asif’s house, but not in an official capacity. What if I can get people to plant tracking devices on a few of the cars that are always coming in and out of there? We’ve had eyes on that place since we got here; there’s a constant flow of the same six vehicles going in and out at all hours of the day. If I can get some guys close enough to put some GPS trackers in place, we just sit back and see if any of them visit a storage facility.”

“The storage thing was just something I pulled out of my ass,” Tyler admits. “What I saw in the pictures and the videos reminded me of where we held McMann. That’s the only reason I said. Could be a factory or a warehouse for all I know.”

“What if it’s Asif’s basement?” Esme asks. “Does that place have one? Or a cold cellar or something like that? Cements walls and floors? Could be a basement or a cellar of some kind. It would explain no windows.”

“Well that makes it even more complicated if it is,” Koen grumbles. “How would we ever find that out? We can’t just go on up and knock on the front door and ask for a tour.”

“Any way of getting eyes in there?” Tyler asks Yaz. “It wouldn’t hurt ruling it out. Kind of fitting if it is where they’re holding them. Almost like they’re offering them up as some sacrifice to Asif. Appease the Gods of whatever the fuck they believe in.”

“I’d have to study the blueprints again,” Yaz says. “I didn’t see a basement, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. A lot could have changed since the originals were made; people renovate and add on all the time. We definitely need to check it out. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”

“Can you do it?” Tyler inquires. “Get eyes in there?”

“It’ll be hard. But I’m sure I can come up with something. There’s got to be a way of getting in there without tripping the alarms or grabbing their attention. I’ll work on it.”

“I think the bigger worry right now is the bridges,” Esme pipes up. “Koen and I saw it with our own eyes. They are locked down and both the police AND the military are manning the road blocks. And they have pictures of me, of Tyler, and they’re comparing them to everyone that goes in or out. Whether they’re walking or driving.”

“They do have them locked pretty tight,” Koen confirms. “There’s no way we could get him across without him being seen.”

“What about going in from the north?” Esme suggests. “Does anyone know if they’ve got things blocked off up there too? If you go north into one of the smaller towns, you can backtrack your way into Dhaka, You can’t send a chopper right into the city; you just can’t. Not when even the police and military are wanting to cash in on the bounty. A chopper is big and noisy and that’s way too much attention right off the hop. But if you take one into one of the towns north of the city, you can drive back in. IF there’s no roadblocks that way.”

“That’s a big if,” Tyler says.

“I can send some people to check it out,” Yaz offers. “There’s a lot of remote areas north of Dhaka. Could them in, get them to see what’s going and probably have an answer in five or six hours. Gotta mobilize them first. Have they sent anything? For proof of life? Any pictures, videos…?”

“The last proof Anil received was three days ago,” Esme sighs. “Nothing since.”

“So they could be dead,” Koen concludes.

“There’s no way they’re dead,” Tyler says. “They need them alive. They know if I don’t come there, they’re going to have to settle for the cash. Which means they have thirty million reasons to keep them alive.”

Or they could kill them and just let on that they’re alive,” Koen argues. “Bait you there with the impression that they ARE still breathing.”

“That’s highly unlikely,” Yaz speaks up. “This is a huge pay day for these guys. If Tyler bails, the money is all they have. They’ll take it.”

“Then why not just bail?” Rata asks. “Why not just say ‘fuck it’ and get out of here? Just let Anil give them the money. Hand over the cash and Neysa and Aarev go free, that’s it.”

“It isn’t just about Neysa and Aarev,” Esme reminds him. “It started with the threats against them and it escalated into a whole lot more. WAY more than any of us thought it would. Did any of us image it would get this far? Did any of us really think it would get this bad? It never should have led to this.”

“This is about my family too,” Tyler adds. “Look at all the shit that’s been said. About my wife, about my kids. You think I’m really going to sit back and let them get away with it? If it was you girl, would you just tuck your tail between your legs and run?”

“Of course I wouldn’t. I’d fight too. But haven’t we fought enough? We took care of all those people on that list. Just like we were supposed to. It’s not our fault that Mahajan changed the game when he grabbed the woman and the kid. We did what we set out to do. So why don’t we just say fuck it and go home?”

“Why don’t YOU just say fuck and go home?” Tyler retorts. “If you can’t handle it, just say so. If you’re scared to do this…”

“I’m not scared of shit!” Rata interjects. “I just don't understand why we keep busting our asses like this. Haven’t we done enough? We got all the names checked off the list, Anil is going to take care of Mahajan. We’re done.”

“We are NOT done.” Esme argues. “They have Neysa and Aarev. And Nathan. Did you forget about him? I know he’s no one’s favorite, but they have him too. We can’t just leave them there.”

“And we can’t leave Asif’s people alive,” Koen adds “They’re too much of a threat; especially to Esme and the kids. We leave them alive and they’ll always pose a threat. We have to get rid of them so Tyler and his family can leave in peace.”

“If you want to go, go,” Tyler says. “You want to walk away, no one will fault you for it. This has been sheer fucking hell from day one. If you’re tired and you’ve had enough then just walk away. I won’t hold it against you.”

“I sure as hell will,” Koen snarls.

“I ain’t leaving you two useless assholes here!” Rata protests. “Someone has to make sure things get done right. Might as well be me.”

Koen gives a derisive snort and shakes his head.

“Well it’s true,” Rata mutters, and leans back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m the one who’s been doing it all right since the beginning.”

“I’ll get trackers on the cars right away and send people north,” Yaz announces, and snaps the lid on his laptop closed. “We’re in the end game now. Everyone needs to keep on their toes and be ready to go at any given moment.”

“What happens when we get where we’re going?” Koen asks. “When the shooting starts? That’s going to bring a whole lot of attention our way. We’re going to have every fucking drongo in Dhaka showing up. Regular people, cops, military. How do we deal with all of that?”

“That’s why we have guns,” Tyler informs him. “They shoot at you, you shoot back. And shoot to kill. Injuring them will do shit. You gotta put them down and put them for good.”

“What if someone creates a few distractions on the bridges?” Esme addresses Yaz “I’m sure Anil has some extra people he can lend or even people here in Dhaka that he can convince to go against Asif. If we have people causing a disturbance on the bridges, all the attention will be down by the water.”

“Not just a pretty face,” Koen teases, and shoots her a playful wink.

“I like that idea,” Rata enthuses, “Stir up some chaos. Shoot some people, blow some shit up.”

“Well I was thinking relatively non violent,” Esme says. “But yeah, that works too.”

“Just remember to not shoot unless you’re being shot at,” Yaz instructs. There’s a lot of Dhaka. Good, innocent people. We don’t want their deaths on our hands. Know your target before engaging. And believe me, you’ll know your targets.”

“They don’t waste time shooting,” Esme adds. “Thankfully, most of them can’t shoot for shit. So your chances are pretty good that you won’t get hit.”

“Until they shoot you from behind,” Tyler smirks. “Then all of a sudden they’re really good shots.” He immediately regrets saying it; noticing the way Esme’s entire body stiffens and hears the heavy sigh that escapes her lips.

“Ask me, that was just luck,” Yaz remarks. “Extremely bad on your part, extremely good on his.”

“Can we NOT talk about?” Esme irritably requests. “We don’t need to talk about this.”

“Gonna need eyes in the back of our heads,” Rata grumbles. “If these fuckers are known for cutting you down from behind. I don’t want to be catching one in the throat. I wouldn’t be so lucky, that’s for sure.”

“No sense rehashing all of that,” Yaz attempts to derail the conversation. “It was a long time ago. Let’s concentrate on now and…”

“I’m just saying,” Rata continues. “If we got kids out there putting bullets in our backs or our necks…”

“Enough,” Tyler orders. “We all know what happened. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“You got lucky,” his friend informs him. “Someone was there to save your ass. All you bastards would high tail it out of there and let me fend for myself.”

“This conversation is not for me,” Esme declares, and shrugs Tyler’s hand off her shoulder when he tries to prevent her from standing up. “I’m not talking about this. I don’t even want to hear about it. Bad enough I had to go through it. Last thing I want to do is relive it.”

The next thirty second feels as if it lasts thirty minutes. Tension filled silence and a painful awkwardness; all four men attempting to avoid eye contact with one another and trying not to acknowledge the obvious tears sparkling in Esme’s eyes and the way she drops her empty mug into the sink with a loud clatter. Or the way she hurries from the room; light footsteps impossibly loud on the stairs.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Koen angrily elbows Rata in the ribs. “You know we don’t talk about that. We never talk about that.”

“It’s been seven years! I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

“It’s a big fucking deal! To her, anyway. You better start kissing some serious ass, you fucking drongo!”

As his friends continue to bicker, Tyler leans forward and places his forearms on his thighs. Eyes on his feet as the fingers of his right hand fidget with his wedding band; twirling it back and forth, pulling it up to the knuckle and sliding it back down again A nervous habit that creeps up when his anxiety rears its ugly head or the PTSD is gearing up to unleash hell.

Yaz slips into the empty seat beside him, then leans in close. “Still a sore spot for her, huh?”

Tyler nods in confirmation.

“It won’t be much longer until go time. Think she’s going to be able to handle it?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I honestly don’t know.”

******

He manages an hour and a half of sleep. Waking to the sounds of Esme muttering and whimpering beside him. Her body drawn impossibly tight and her hands tightly gripping the bottom sheet; heels digging into the mattress as if trying to push herself away from an attacker. He opted not to shake her awake, wanting to avoid sending her into a panic and turning her extremely combative. He’d learned the hard way how NOT to handle a night terror. Confronted by a five foot nothing woman with the sudden strength of three grown men and having to physically restrain her until the nightmare released her from its clutches and she came out of it on her own.

Instead he took the easier approach. Rolling over onto his side and laying an arm across her midsection and draping one leg over both of hers and effectively keeping her flailing limbs and trembling body still. A forearm resting lightly on the top of her head and his fingers reaching for her face; gently clearing tears off of her cheeks and lightly tracing random patterns on her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. Within minutes she’d been successfully comforted. Body finally stilling, tears ceasing, eyes never opening as she issued a heavy sigh and moved onto her side.

After that, all hope of getting back to sleep had abandoned him, and for the last hour he’s been lying there in silence. Holding her as tightly as her body will allow him to; face buried in her hair as he listens to her soft, rhythmic breathing. And when her body grows uncomfortable with the heat radiating from his own and the weight of his limbs becomes too much, she moves away and he gives up on rest entirely. Sliding out of bed and then bunching up both of his pillows and placing them -one on top of the other, lengthwise- behind her back. If she rolls over in her sleep and blindly reaches for him, she’ll at least discover the pillows; his scent hopefully enough to comfort her.

He’d fallen asleep fully clothed. Wanting to be ready at the drop of a hat; whether it be a phone call from Yaz or a threat on their doorstep. And he picks up the holster -gun securely stored inside- from it resting on the nightstand; clipping it to the waist of his jeans and then shoving his feet into his combat boots, lacing them tightly before leaving the room.

He grabs some fresh air; giving the guards a nod in greeting as he steps out onto the back porch. While the storm had settled hours ago, it had brought no relief. Heat near stifling, the humidity already oppressive; causing sweat to quickly bead across his forehead and to gather at his temples and the nape of his neck. The air is thick and heavy, yet he barely notices it as he sits on the edge of the deck. Jaw firmly set, elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together; eyes dark and staring out into the stillness of the night. He neither sees or acknowledges anything around him. Not the movement of the guards patrolling the darkened perimeter or their quiet conversation. Not the faint music coming from the neighbouring home or the chirping of the crickets.

His mind is switching over now, and soon his senses and instincts will kick into high gear; his brain thinking of nothing but the task directly in front of him. The adrenaline is starting to build; that rush of blood in your veins and the anticipation that causes your heart to speed up and your stomach to flutter. For now he’s still experiencing other emotions as well; worry, nervousness, fear. Haunted by the thought that he could be called upon at any given moment and he many never return to his old life. To that sprawling, beautiful home on the beach with its million dollar view. To the sound of his children laughing and playing. To kissing his wife good morning when she wanders into the kitchen clad in one of his t-shirts. To kissing her goodnight and having that warm, supple body snuggled into his; her breath tickling his skin and that familiar smell clinging to her hair.

It’s shortly before one in the morning when he heads back inside. The house shrouded in silence; the open concept living, dining, and kitchen area illuminated only by the light above the stove. Instead of returning upstairs, he sinks into the easy chair in the living room; relieved that he’s able to stretch out his legs without wincing or groaning from discomfort. The two pills he’d taken almost three hours ago effectively reducing both his pain and stiffness yet not leaving him groggy or with altered senses. It’s a temporary fix; he knows long term usage is out of the questions. His body will get accustomed to both the drug and the dosage and soon the need for more will start. The cravings will kick in soon afterwards, and he’ll find himself desperate for a fix and willing to do anything to get it. Seeking out a doctor is the safest and only hope he has; whether it be through extensive physio or surgery. And he’s more than willing to put in the time and the effort. After all, it’s the only way he’ll be able to keep his life from falling apart.

“Tyler?”

His eyes snap open at the sound of her voice, and he glances towards where she’s paused at the middle landing of the stairs. “Yeah?”

“Just checking to see if it was you. I didn't want to come down there and sit on someone and find out the hard way it’s Koen.”

“Might give the guy a heart attack. Probably the most attention he’s had from a woman in a long time.”

“Everything okay?” she asks, as she descends the remaining stairs and joins him; settling herself sideways on his lap with her legs dangling over the arm of the chair.

“Everything’s good.”

“You feeling alright?” She pushes a hand through his hair, palm settling at the back of his head, nails lightly massaging his scalp.

“I’m feeling pretty good, actually. Those meds are doing their job. For now anyway.” He turns his face into hers and places a kiss to each corner of her mouth before covering it with his own. One hand sliding up and down her back as the other settles on her hip. “You okay? You were having a pretty bad dream, huh?”

She nods in confirmation.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” she says, and rests the side of her head on his shoulder.

“So it was about me?”

Another nod.

“That bad?”

“Bad enough. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” he assures her, and rests the tip of his nose against his forehead, feeling the tickle of her lashes when she closes her eyes.

“Nice attempt with the pillows though,” she says.

“It usually works.”

“I woke up completely this time. And then I panicked; I was worried you’d gotten the call and left without saying bye.”

“I’d never leave without telling you. We have our thing, yeah? Shit we always say to each other before I go? It’s like my good luck charm; say those words and everything will go right.”

“It’s held up so far. You started saying it when you went back to the job the first time and you’ve been saying it ever since.”

“Pretty good track record. I wouldn’t risk screwing things up by leaving without waking you up and telling you. You sure you’re alright? Dream still got you rattled?”

“A little,” she admits. “It was scary. And gruesome. I haven’t had one that bad in a long time.”

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about it?”

“I don’t.” She nuzzles the side of his neck with the tip of her nose, then presses a kiss to it. “It was bad…” her voice cracks. “...it was really bad.”

“It’s okay…” the hand on her back moves up to her hair, slightly stroking it as his other hand rubs her hips. “...everything’s fine. I’m right here.”

“For now.”

“We knew this was coming.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier. I know you have to go, but it doesn’t mean I want you to.”

“Would it make you feel better if I wore my lucky underwear?”

“You didn’t bring them. I packed your bag, remember?”

“And you didn’t put them in? What’s wrong with you?”

“The only thing those underwear are lucky for is making babies. Declan, Addie. I bet you were wearing them when this one was made too.”

A hand moves to the small baby bump already straining against her pyjamas pants. “I wasn’t wearing any.”

“You don’t even know what day this one was made on. How do you know if you were wearing underwear or not? You can’t remember what you had for breakfast most days.”

“I figure if I don’t wear them six days a week, the chances are pretty high that I wasn’t wearing any that day.”

“Maybe THAT’S why your sperm is so good. You’re not suffocating them all the time. They're free range. They’re not penned in and they can come and go as they please. Like how the chickens in Colorado used to poop out butt nuggets everywhere.”

Tyler chuckles. “Butt nuggets.”

“I used to call eggs that all the time when I was a kid,” Esme muses. “My dad taught me. We’d have a big family breakfast every Sunday; like we do now. And he’d always ask me how I wanted my butt nuggets cooked. My mom would get so mad! She hated that we were so close. I think in a way she was jealous. I was her first girl and I wanted nothing to do with her. She couldn’t figure out that she was the reason I didn’t want to be around her. And here we are, thirty some years later and she still has no clue. Makes me sad for our kids; they don’t even have one grandmother. Your mom would have been so good with them. I just know it. Her only kid...her son...having kids of his own?”

“She would have spoiled the hell out of them. She would have loved them; there’s no doubt about that.”

“She’d be so proud of you. For how you turned out.”

“Something tells me she wouldn’t he completely on board with the whole hired gun thing.”

“I’m not talking about that. I mean how you turned out as a man. If she was alive right now, she’d know all the struggles you went through and saw all the battles you fought and how you beat every single one. And she’d see how you turned out as a husband and a father despite not having the best role model to emulate.”

“Growing up I told myself that I’d never be like him. That I’d never turn out like that.”

“And you didn’t. You work hard at it every single day; to not be like him. It would have been so easy for you; to end up the same way. But you went in the opposite direction.”

“You keep forgetting that the first time didn’t turn out so good.”

“You were a kid when you got married the first time,” Esme reasons. “And judging by the stories I’ve heard she wasn’t exactly wife material.”

“She had her flaws , that’s for sure. One of them just happened to fucking anyone that showed interest.”

“Well if you ask me, she must have been crazy. Cheating on the likes of you? Why give up filet mignon for ground beef?”

“So I really AM just a piece of meat to you,” he teases, and she giggles when he kisses the side of her neck and playfully pinches her side.

“I’m just saying that I don’t get it. Why do you cheat when you have an amazingly hot husband that’s a god in bed? There has to be something seriously wrong with someone. And don’t get me started on how you were deployed when she would do it. Your husband is off...in the Middle East...getting shot at it and trying not to get blown up by roadside bombs...and you’re back home serving as the base slut? That’s the lowest of the low!”

“I guess both of us weren’t very good judges of character when we were younger.”

“There is a bright side though. To what we both went through the first time around.”

“What’s the bright side?”

“Well if things had been wonderful in either of our first marriages, neither of us would have ended up doing the job. You probably would have stayed in the military and I probably would have been a happy little housewife. In the PTA and driving a minivan and taking the kids to soccer and drinking Starbucks.”

“You take the kids to soccer now. Except it’s a thermos with homemade coffee with Bailey’s in it. “

“That’s in the cooler weather. When it’s hot, it’s pink lemonade with vodka.”

He grins and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Hey, it’s not the most exciting sport in the world; I have to get through it somehow. And I also have to survive all the thirsty females that show up whenever you coach. I don’t know how they know when it’s your turn, but that many never show when you’re not there. And they show up in their slutty little outfits and their make up done. And there I am; no makeup, ball cap on yoga pants and UGG boots and one of your hoodies. And you wonder why I have self confidence issues.”

“Who cares about the thirsty women? I only have eyes for you, you know that.”

“I care when they’re openly discussing my husband’s ass and his muscles and his bulge.”

“You should have married an uglier guy with a small dick then,” Tyler teases.

“I did that with my first marriage. I traded up the second time around.”

“Just ignore them. I do. I don’t pay attention to them. I don’t need to. I’m already married to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Wow…” she’s grinning as she pulls back to look at him. “...do you ever know how to lay it on thick.”

“It’s the truth. That’s how I see you. I’ve always seen you that way. It’s how I’ll always see you. So fuck ‘em. Who’s the one I go home with? Who’s the one I share a bed with every night?”

“Me. Lucky little old me.”

“Exactly. It’s always been you. It always will be. I choose you every day.”

“Even when my hair hasn’t been washed in four days and I’ve got baby puke on my clothes and dark circles under my eyes and I’m a raging bitch?”

“Even then.”

“Now THAT is true love,” she says, and places both hands on the side of his as she kisses him. Nothing hurried or overly needy; soft and languid, lips moving slowly against one another. And when she pulls away he sees the tears that sparkle in her eyes and the way the corners of her mouth droop.

“Baby…” he combs his fingers through her hair, then kisses the bridge of her nose and cradles her cheek in the palm of his hand. “...don’t…”

“I don’t want you to go. I know you have to; it’s the only way this will ever be finished. But I still don’t want you to leave. I wish there was another way; to end all of this.”

“Believe me, so do I.”

“I’m scared. This is the most scared I’ve ever been. I wasn’t even this scared seven years ago.”

“We barely knew each other then,” he reasons. “But now…”

“There’s so much to lose. Way too much. If something happens to you…”

“Stop…” he lays a hand on the back of her head and draws it down to his, pressing their brows together. “...just stop.”

“You have to come back for me. You HAVE to. Promise me you’ll come back for me.”

“Esme…”

“Promise me, Tyler,” she pleads, fingers tightly gripping his hair. “Promise me.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“At least promise you’ll try? That you’ll do whatever it takes to get back here. Can you promise me that at least?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he vows, and places a kiss on her forehead. “I promise.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2020 #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth character #best part of me

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years

Text

You’re a WHAT

Kanene’s Notes:

I’m weak for carzy scenarios and glitter, so BOOOM!! Why don’t get these two things together??? :D)/ This fic marks the end of my break, I will be (trying to) going back to my old projects and probably won’t be writing for some weeks kjnhgfvghjkjhg. Wish me luck! <33

This wasn’t suppose to take so much to be written but I lost my PC and life got in the way :v Buuuut! I manage to finish it and I already count this as a victory! xP

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Remy and Roman. They’re friendos yay :3. Oh, and this is pretty crazy. Context: The morning after Black Friday when you’re grumpy and wanting to kick the society in the face. A LOT of swearing, Patton does not approve.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 2.900 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Try and have fun with new hobbies, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Roman thought himself as a really lucky human being. Unbelievable lucky.

It wasn't due to the apartment where he currently lived - Too much dull for his personal taste and space, getting even smaller from the day he admitted a messy, sassy and with sleep problems roommate, since Roman just started his musical career and couldn't afford an own house yet. - or the fact that was finally able to pursue his dream after years and years of just picturing, painting this moment on his future, only to find out his fantastic breathtaking and incredible goals weren’t nearly close of the cold reality, at least for now (Who would know that, after umpteenth days of hard studying and training he would need years and years of experience in order to even START wondering in get out of his partial-time job on that Electronic Store) or any other reason someone would be able to consider himself a receptacle of pure, brute luck, enlightened by the spotlights of the good, pleasant destiny...

... Or at least the most pleasant it could be in the horrible and exhaustive middle of the night after a whole day filled with his attempts to survive and treat respectfully the unmerciful, dirty jungle that humanity was at Black Friday. Something around fifteen hours working with massive hordes of unscrupulous zombies starved for a sale and able to even kill and die (more likely the first option) to get what they want and with souls (if they still got one) free of any slight sight of education, patience and morals to be inserted in a society which, as it seemed, was equally rotten as them. View point only proved as Roman was obligated to be working after his shift to "clean all the mess" - more like hide the bodies of exhausted warriors after such bloody battle. – the store because those sons of a...

"... Bitch, YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!!!" The poor, frustrated employed shouted to nowhere specific, his face turning towards the sky, seeking in some way to show his all his hate to the cinematography - because this was too much coincidence to NOT be part of a movie or some random fanfic on the black hole that was internet - rain falling at full force leading the weather to became even more freezing as soaked them both with its cool, thick drops.

Anyway, what he was daydreaming about?

"Roman." Oh, yeah, the reason why he viewed himself as a truly lucky person. "My gurl, if you try to impersonate a fucking, dramatic, bitch crow in my ear even again, I swear in the name of my life juice bean that I'm going to KILL you with my bare hands and these sunglasses."

At least his best friend since, honestly, diapers, who coincidentally was his roommate and even more coincidentally, his coworker was just screwed as Roman himself. Which automatically made the duo less screwed, however equally pissed off, something that neither of them discovered if that was a good or bad thing, yet.

"Fuck you, Remy" Roman whispered between an tired yawn, too much tired to even think about some nickname or to put real heat in his words as he got instinctively closer to the other, the one called taking off his jacket and lazily throwing it over their heads, doing his best to cover they both with the small available black leathered fabric, the act intertwined with grumpy grumbling and motions which would probably slap Roman's face if he wasn't careful. "I'm the one who buys your coffee."

"Having my incredible, unique personality in your life should be motivation enough for you to buy me the entire Starbucks Company, be glad I'm weak to your cute face and am going easy on ya."

" 'Cute'? Excuse me, I'm the most handsome, hottest and fabulous man you will ever met in your lowly life, mortal."

Remy snorted at this "Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe, but if it's going to be like that your ego soon will have to pay his part at the rent."

"Well, this 'ego' here was the only thing between your highness and jail after stopping you from committing all those murders today."

"Bold of you to assume I wouldn't use my contacts to hide the evidences." Their tune were already completely sleepy, bodies instinctively leaning onto each other as the words stumbled, mixed and almost lost themselves in the soundly wind as slipped from their lips. Roman just laughed.

"Well, if by ‘contacts’ mean 'Virgil' good luck getting him out of his bed on his free day. You would became the fucking new King Arthur." Roman rubbed his eyes, trying to physically force his eyelashes to not close, a new yawn finding its way to his mouth. He didn't even know about what they were talking anymore.

"I roll the dice to cast Badass Nerd Bitch."

“Logan??”

“He likes to study nature stuff, especially at night, I’m sure he already knows some good spots to hide bodies. Glasses.”

“Glasses?”

“Glasses.”

“OMG, the anime character with glasses.” Roman stopped, his mouth wide open as if all the secrets of the universe had been revealed to him.

“Exactly.” Remy extended each syllable, grinning smugly.

“I’ve never-“

“THIS IS A ROBERY!!”

The sentence, which appeared to came out from nowhere, cut the air in a harsh, sharp tune, breaking the barriers and tying them up in the same place in a frozen position and wide eyes staring astonished the hooded form and their unreadable features under the bad illumination of the light poles helped by the increased storm. The wind trespassed them, stirring their clothes and making the muscles shake both of the alone employees in the middle of a dark, empty street at the dawn, even if the dangerously shiny knife directed towards their direction still in a hatred silence.

“My.” Roman knew he probably should be afraid, the freezing feeling running across his veins and frightening his brain and actions as infected his words in an unspeakable terror impossible to ignore nor escape. “fucking.” However, the only thing that slipped through his next was the purest, deepest, truest... “ASS.” Indignation.

Roman thought about a lot of things. He thought about running away, grabbing Remy’s arm and sprinting across the street, about scream in the top of his lungs the waterfall of swearing already racing half way to his throat and even about kicking the knife out of the other’s hands and then kicking him - with a couple of cool moves he saw in some actions films - together with their frecking audacity to try to rob him of all the people in the world. Roman, who asked himself if he would have enough money to eat in the next week with a concerning frequency, who wondered if this is the life he will have until the end of his existence, if he will ever be able to accomplish his dreams.

His gaze changed to Remy, who was paralyzed, trembling between the poor light of the street and the massive rain. Roman swallowed. Everything was in his hands.

For a piece of Roman felt the strange urge to spill to the figure before him the story of his life, all his tries, all his battles, his everyday fights to make his dreams real. Blow by blow. Day by day. A life destined to go after everything he wished to himself, everything he wanted to life, to experience, to savor, to do everything in his hands to ignore and one day maybe, hopefully forget all the ghosts - these ones always accompanied by those emotionless, sharp whispers - asking, doubting nonstop if he ever would be able to do all of this, if he was doing the rights thing, if it was really worth all of it.

However, before the first word even slipped of Roman’s tongue or his mind came fully back to Earth, Remy was already positioning himself strategically between the robber and his friend, the currently only one with the leather jacket falling on his shoulders. However, Remy didn’t seem nearly soaked as he should be, and for a heartbeat, the same one which Remy moved his hands to his jeans’ pocket, his fingers touching and firmly holding something there, Roman could swear that the unexpectedly shiver running across his spine wasn’t due the cold wind.

Nor the sentence hurled in the clouds.

“You know what?? Fuck it.”

And then he unsheathed his magic wand.

Roman loved with the entirety of his heart all kind of magic, he could easily spend an entire afternoon (which he already had, by the way) listing his favorites movies, musicals and stories with that theme. That also could be easily said by the thousands and thousands of worlds, universes and lifes he invented – in and out of his head - about the subject trough his childhood and handful of teenage years, random ideas and inspirations appearing and dancing in his mind until nowadays. If that only wasn’t enough to convince someone then the umpteenth memories of mornings and afternoons bathed in the smell of books, rocked by the calm silene of the public library as he turned one more page, his back lightly aching by the bad position assumed behind the shelters, in a place he strategically found and claimed as his own Bridge to Terabithia, enjoying every moment as if nothing else mattered. Perhaps you wouldn’t even need to swim in such deep, ancient waters to find out his love, since at least fifty percent of his day was dedicated to shout, hummer or murmur Disney songs.

However, as rays of pure energy - shiny and kind of glittery one - involved and swirled from Remy’s, who now was floating a few centimeters above the ground, wand in stripes that got lighter and lighter, begging to spin faster around the aforementioned, creating a spere of a power stunning and big enough to stop the rain in the corner.

The silence resulting from the lack of the storm didn’t had the opportunity to fill the moment, being obligated to give its space to a soft, intense melody whispered in their ears. The notes standing some more moments in the air, the beating following the changes in the shadowed figure inside the spere. Hesitations taking over the loud, quick heartbeats when the song finally stopped.

The power’s spere finally exploded, the impact leading to an unbelief and intensive force push both human meters away.

“Get. Out.” Remy’s tune still the same, his form – Now adorned by a gleaming crop top, his fluttering skirt over shorts floating in synchrony with the veils which surrounded his clothes and wrapping his arms, the ending spreading in the air as a bunch of angry powered and fancy snakes. - even with the new vestments full of glitter (this probably would be a hell to get off, later) still the same, his gaze, powerful – a new meaning pouring from this word – strong, still the same. But yet…

Yet his wide eyed, heart hammering in his chest friend since he could remember found himself struggling to connect the same Remy who he had known – if he could still say that? - all his life with the same being who gleamed dangerously before him.

The magic wand danced in a quick flick and a trash can came of what seemed nowhere to hit the wobbled and absolutely terrified robber, who fell with a soft thumph in the ground, unconscious.

“-man, Roman!!! Don’t just stay standing there like a tree, help me here, gurl!” Suddenly the called snapped from his own sea of thoughts, submerging and astonished blinking in Remy’s direction. The rain started to fell on them again, and when their eyes met, when Roman saw the same guy who spent afternoons climbing trees and pretending they were knights and dragons attacking or saving the world, when he recalled the silent sleepovers where they just sat near of each other enjoying the mutual company, the grumpy mornings in their apartment, the comfort hugs, the looks full of words, the smiles filled with meaning, the friendship stuffed with so many, many memories...

Nostalgia. The feeling that everything was changed albeit something… something important always stayed. Roman felt, truly felt it and fixed his glare into that brilliant – quite literally - glare adorned with a ‘I’m about to punch your cocky face if you keep fucking narrating every freaking second of your life, ya bitch’ he realized...

It was Remy.

He took a deep breath, moving closer and gradually relaxing as the aforementioned focused in trying to lift the guy, swearing more frequently than raindrops fell from the sky.

“Remy?”

“Yeah?”

“First crush.”

The other stopped, frowning confused. Roman didn’t quiver, feeling he deserved some sort of answer. At least about this. “What?”

“My first crush. Who?”

“Kovu.” Remy maybe was a bit cold hearted, maybe he wasn’t the best with human interactions or knew exactly what Roman wanted with that… but he knew Roman enough to realize this was important. Essentially when the said seemed to relax, his form untensing itself and being allowed to get closer of the magic being.

“Okay. Okay, okay…” Roman took a deep breath, grounding himself. Their gaze met, his next words coming a little calmer. “Okay.”

“Please don’t make me sing that serenate you made for him. I’m gonna fucking quit.”

“Oh, shut up!! Our first love is something special, mister I-Can’t-Choose-Between-The-Beast-And-The-Beauty.”

Remy decided to ignore the words, slightly lowing his sunglasses with his special Judgmental ‘Bold of you to assume I have enough shame to be mocked’ Look. Roman just flipped in his direction, taking advantage that the other’s hands were occupied.

It was still Remy, with a whole more of style and glitter – Why are there so much glitter here?? - but it was just Remy. Like just any other day.

Before he even realized, Roman was already at his friend’s - and as it seems a magical being - side, helping him to carry the robber’s body to somewhere dry so he wouldn’t die of hypothermia.

“Why don’t you- Ouch!! My feet, dammit!” His breaths came out as puffs, the effort leading to his already exhausted muscles only protest even more and very much probably curse him later with sore movements for the audacity to transport anything heavier than a pen. “Why don’t you use your... Wizard magic or something to carry him??”

“Oh. My. Gosh. Roman, you are sooo intelligent, why aren’t you in Harvard? Ow! Ow! Ow!!” Remy’s sarcasm was cut when the other kicked, or did his best to with their actual position, him in protest. “Homophobic.” He exhaled a mix of irritation and a snort, receiving a playful punch in his arm by their inside joke. “I’m your Fairy Godmother, brainless. Unless it was you laid in this stupid, cold ground I can’t use my magic anymore... Except if this is someone of your family but I doubt-”

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT!!! YOU ARE MY FAIRY GODM-”

“No, no way, nope, we are NOT having this conversation right now.” Remy, the Fairy Godmother let go of the unconscious body in a way that probably will make the guy wake up sore, perhaps with a concussion even, directing his index finger in Roman’s direction in a deep, determined stare full of darkness and things that Roman could swear would make Remy be expelled from the group of Friendly Fairy GodmotherS or whatever... thing he was inserted. “Let me tell you what we are doing right now: We are going to home, change our clothes then I’m getting coffee and you will get sleep so I don’t have to face nor care about the freak consequences of my damn actions.”

...

“That...” Roman stop, as if was considering his next words. Remy’s face just scrunched in a bigger, firmer frown. “That would be hella scary if you didn’t look like someone who just stole a store of glitter and got attacked by the gay, glitterly, shiny fairies who protected the place.”

“Go fuck yourself. I’m locking you outside when we get there.”

“Noo, please don’t! My evil stepmother didn’t let me go to the prince castle and now I need help! Crying emoji, crying emoji.” Roman mocked, imitating sad sobs and sniffles as quick his pace to follow the other, who flipped him.

“I’m this far from knock you out with my magical wand and then you will see who is the evil stepmother.” His wand gleamed in warning, the red color getting mixed and trembled by the fast movements of his veils, one of them getting dangerously next to Roman’s face, who cleverly got silent for some heartbeats, the sound of the rain slowly calming their heartbeats and rocking them, the tiredness gaining the space which, piece by piece, was being unhanded by their adrenaline.

They arrived home, both still quiet, feeling free as a relieved sign left their lips. Remy threw his soaked jacket in some dark corner, the bed being the only thing which was allowed to take over all his thoughts and will.

An awed gasp echoed behind him and he immediately regretted his move.

“YOU HAVE WINGS????”

Before his eyelashes closed, the shiny of the wand disappearing gradually as an ungodly amount of sleepiness gained complete control over his body, relaxing each one of his fibers and as a warm, magic good feeling fills every single cell in his being, Roman wondered if ‘Fuck it’ was the name of Remy’s spell.

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fifteenskies15 · 5 years

Text

Promise

(Sanemi Shinazugawa x Demon! Reader)

Admin's note: I got stressed and bored so that's why I made this, also in this fic, reader is like Nezuko (or Lady Tamayo) who manage to get out of Muzan's control, also reader have a struggle to speak normally because of the long usage of the bamboo muzzle they got from Sanemi.

Also...

It's S O F T Sanemi Hours

I'm fully aware he sounded out of context here, so sorry for the inconvenience

(Since it's for both male and female reader, I'll use "they/their" pronoun in this)

----

"Hey, (Name) I'm back"

A certain scar faced man said as he knocked the door of the small shrine, you peek out of your shrine and see Sanemi smiling at you "Been waiting for me that long, huh? Sorry about that" you came out of the building and shook your head, meaning that you didn't wait for him that long and you just lay your head on his shoulder.

The both of you looked at the full moon that shine brilliantly tonight, hard to believe that in such a beautiful night, many demons are attacking and eating humans.

"Mmrrghh...?" you let out a soft noise as you turn your attention to him, though you can't say anything due to your bamboo muzzle, Sanemi somehow understand what you said, he looked at you with a smile everyone never sees "Yeah (Name)? Is there anything you need?"

You stayed silent for a while then point at your bamboo muzzle "Uuuh..."

"You want me to take your muzzle off?"

You nodded and smile through your eyes, Sanemi knows that you won't hurt him so he just smiled and gently took your muzzle off, once it's off, Sanemi gaze at your face.

Still as beautiful as I remembered

You give Sanemi a toothy grin and cupped his face as you try to speak "N-Nemi... No work too hard... 'Kay? ...I'm worried... O-of Nemi..."

Sanemi knows you kind of having a struggle to speak and have a childlike demeanor (kind of like Nezuko) for almost several years, somehow he finds it cute.

He put his hand atop of your hand and lean in to search more of the contacts "Yeah, I promise I won't work too hard"

You smiled in satisfactory and grabbed his hand as you watch the full moon together "Moon... Beautiful..." you say smiling and point at the moon "Yeah, moon's look beautiful but you're even more beautiful" you blushed at his statement and hid your face under the sleeve of your kimono "N-Nemi... F-flatter me too m-much" he just chuckled and ruffle your (H/C) hair "I'm just stating the obvious, ya know!"

You looked at him through your sleeve with a pouty face which made Sanemi's heart skipped a beat

You're so fucking cute that it's hard to believe that you're a thing I should've kill

"Genya... Okay?"

Sanemi just shrugged nonchalantly "I dunno, that brat is still here despite I don't want him to" you eyed him sadly, why does he act so distant towards his own little brother? "Why... Nemi said that?" he looked at you with something close to sadness in his eyes "He shouldn't be here, he could've just stay back, live his own life and have wife and children and that he enjoy life to its fullest"

You just looked at him then hugged his arm, slightly rubbing it to cheer him a bit "Genya... Good person, Genya wants help Nemi..."

"He didn't have to" He said avoiding your gaze for a while "You haven't change a bit, you're still very nice towards us since we're just kids" he looked back at you again "Even when you have become a demon, you're still as nice as when you were a human..."

You smiled at him "Thanks to Nemi... Nemi remember when Nemi found me?"

"How the hell can I forget? I'm surprised to hear that you survived demon attack but I didn't expect you to be alive..." he said as he caressed your hair "I was happy that you were alive, but it really surprised me that you have become one of them, heck, you even attacked me! I'm just glad I can talk some sense to you" he sighed and look at the ground "You are one of the most precious people I don't want to lose, (Name), It would break me if I ever lose you..." he layed his head on your lap as he looked up at you with adoration.

"Do you remember when we pretended to be a married couple when we're still kids?" he asked as he put his big hand on your smooth face, you smiled at him and put your hand atop of his "I r-remember... Nemi make a good husband..."

A slight blush creeped on his face "Heh, yeah... You even make a decent ohagi for me" you smiled and caressed his fluffy white hair as he closed his eyes, enjoying your gentle touch

"Nemi... Can we... Live together one day? What if o-one day... I di-die?"

He opened his eyes and looked at you "The heck you're talking about?! You won't die! And we will have a life together!"

"But..."

"No buts, (name), I believe you will stay alive, one day you can walk under sun hand in hand with me, I will find a way so that you could do that" he then scowled "Even if that means I gotta ask that Kamado brat, I will do it for you and it's a promise"

You looked at him and took his hand and kissed the palm of his hand, smiling "Thank you... Nemi..."

Sanemi blushed at what you did

"Damn it, (name), I should be the one who did that"

You giggled at him and continue to caress his hair "Nemi... You promise we have a family together? Me, Nemi with Genya and future kids?"

Once again, Sanemi blushed deeply as you mentioned "future kids"

"Goddamn it, (name)... I should be the one that said that too, not other way around..."

This time you laughed softly at him "Sorry... I like to tease Nemi..."

He looked up at you then grinned "Once this is all over, I'll be the one who always tease you"

You raised your eyebrows at him, challenging him "Nemi can't do that..." Sanemi let out a soft 'heh' as he put his hand on your cheek, caressing it gently "You sure about that?"

You blushed this time, but still smiling at him "I'm sure..."

He then sat up and gently cupping your cheeks, nose touching as he look at your eyes deeply "Once we all kick Muzan's ass, I promise I will stay by your side, I will protect you, and We will live together forever with our future family, I swear by Oyakata-sama's name You will walk under the sun with me and we will live together happily until one of us cross the sanzu river"

You nodded at him with a smile, his warm breath fanning your lips before he connected it with yours.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle even for someone as rash as Sanemi, you smiled against his lip, and once you both parted the kiss, he hugged you tightly and buried his head on your shoulder

"I love you, (name)"

You return the embrace, slightly tearing up.

"I love you too, Nemi..."

----

*Admin's feral noise*

How was it? It's full of nonsense, weird, and make you confused, eh? Sorry I made this while I'm stressed, my brain didn't cooperate with me so that's why it sucks :v I made Sanemi out of context, my bad, I have to be honest it's kind of hard to write him with his harsh persona (even tho he's not THAT harsh) anyways, I think that's all, still, I hope you enjoy this too, and sorry if you don't like it

#kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba scenario #kimetsu no yaiba fanfiction #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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waitineedaname · 5 years

Note

davekat childhood friends remeeting in college au please,,,, my heart (also congrats!! you deserve all the love i stan you sm)

you have all my uwus omg

----

Going to college far away was fucking weird. Dave didn’t mind it, but it was just… well, there were pros and cons to his choice in higher education.

Pro: the school had a really great photography program.

Con: he was really far away from basically everyone he knew.

Pro: being so far away meant he didn’t have to worry about his Bro breathing down his neck anymore.

Con: no, seriously, like really far away.

Pro: his professors seemed decent so far and the dining hall was close to his dorm.

Con: oh god what the fuck was he thinking.

Okay, maybe he was overreacting a little bit. It wasn’t like he was completely cut off from everyone. John had agreed to Facetime him regularly, and Jade sent him tons of Snapchats from wherever far off place she was gallivanting through before she had to go back to school too. Rose was close enough that they could occasionally road trip and visit each other, but not close enough that it could be a regular thing. And hey, maybe he’ll really hit it off with his roommate or something, and everything will be okay.

He plopped himself down on the far side of his English classroom and pulled out his notebook. It was the first day for this particular class and it was only an hour long, so he doubted they’d be doing much else than going over the syllabus, but having his notebook out meant he could doodle and, subsequently, pay attention better. He was busy trying to draw a hyperrealistic eye over a ridiculously abstract SBaHJ mouth just to see what it would look like when the professor reached his name in roll call.

“Here.” He said, glancing in her direction before pulling out the syllabus so he could read over it while still doodling. Having a last name that started with S usually meant they were nearing the end of the attendance sheet by the time they got to him, so unless someone had a name that started with V or something, they were basically done.

“Karkat Vantas?” The professor said, and Dave’s head snapped up. Wait, what?

“Here,” came the raspy response near the door. Dave’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He’d thought maybe it was just a weird case of someone mysteriously having the same name as his childhood friend, but no shit, that was Karkat. He was like ten when he last saw him, so he looked a lot older and a hell of a lot more exhausted, but there was no mistaking him. Holy shit.

Dave barely paid attention the whole time the professor went over the syllabus, too busy trying to catch Karkat’s eye, but dammit, he was totally focused on what the professor was saying. He almost laughed at how little things had changed. Karkat was always the one hanging off their teachers’ every word, while Dave was the one with the undiagnosed ADHD trying to distract his best friend with whatever he had on hand.

He finally managed to tune back in to catch his professor saying something about how she wanted them to “really form a bond with your fellow classmates” and how they should “pair up with a classmate you don’t know so you have a buddy if you miss class or need help.” Dave damn near leaped out of his seat when she let them loose to socialize for the last ten minutes of class, and he made a bee-line to Karkat’s seat.

“Karkat.” He said, bouncing on his heels at Karkat’s table. Karkat looked up from where he’d been shoving his books back in his backpack and gave him a confused look.

“Uh, hi.” He said, giving him no sign that he recognized him. Dave panicked.

“It’s me!” Dave said, then immediately winced at his own vagueness. “Dave.”

“That… sure is your name.” Karkat was continuing to disoriented and more than a little annoyed.

“No, dude, Dave Strider. We went to elementary school together? You had those bigass glasses and I called them ugly on the playground because I was a stupid five year old with no sense of etiquette - not that I’m much better now, I guess, since this is probably the most awkward way I could’ve possibly reintroduced myself, but, shit, I’m getting off track. You threw mud at my shades and said now we both had ugly glasses, and then we ate lunch together like every day after that. Do-. Do you remember?” He faltered a little bit, worried this was an unfortunate case of mistaken identity. Karkat’s eyes widened cartoonishly as recognition passed across his face.

“Holy shit. Dave?!”

“Yeah, dude, the one and only.”

“Jesus fuck, you got tall.” Karkat commented, sitting back and looking him over.

“And you did not.” Dave teased, relaxed now that they were on the same page. He hopped up to sit to the side of Karkat’s desk. “How the fuck have you been, man? Where the hell did you even move to? It was like you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Basically.” Karkat snorted. “My dad got a job transfer out of fucking nowhere that summer and the whole family had to move. It sucked having to start all over in sixth goddamn grade, but whatever. I’m sure you weren’t too distraught at my absence since you had John.” Karkat added, gently shoving at his leg in a halfhearted attempt to get him off his desk.

“I mean yeah, John and I got hella tight after that, but it sucked losing my oldest friend.” Dave shrugged. Karkat gave him a skeptical look.

“You cannot be referring to me.”

“No, I’m referring to some other idiot I started hanging around when I could barely walk. Yeah, I’m referring to you, dipshit. We were like soul brothers, man. Joined at the goddamn hip. Two peas in one dumbass pod pretending to slay dragons on the playground. Or aliens. Or that one time your furry sister started reading those Warriors books and she convinced us to roleplay cats. How’s she doing, by the way?”

“Nepeta’s fine.” Karkat said, amused. “What, are you looking for someone to help you break out of your repressed furry state? Do you want me to draw you a fucking fursona?” He patted Dave’s knee and put on a condescending tone. “It’s okay, bro, I won’t judge.”

“I mean, are you offerin’? What’re your commission rates?” The look Karkat gave him was scathing. “Nah, I’m kidding. If I want furry art, I can just hit up Jade. What I am wondering is if you wanna maybe grab something to eat?” Dave asked, faux casual. “I dunno if you’ve hit up that burger place by the university union, but they’re not half bad, and their fries fucking kick ass. Like seriously, orgasmic level shit. I’d fucking live off of those fries if I could. I mean, I probably could eat nothing but overly seasoned fries until the day I die, but that date would be way sooner than it should be because I’ll have destroyed my digestive tract with salt. But, you know, you gotta make sacrifices for what you love, and I’m telling you, I really do love those fries.”

“Jesus christ, you really haven’t changed.” Karkat rolled his eyes. “Here I was hoping - no, praying that puberty might have forced you to finally grow a single brain cell, but I guess I should be used to my dreams being dashed and splattered to oblivion like someone took the most fragile, paper thin egg thrown against a brick wall. Oh, you see that tiny little dribble of yolk sliding down the most microscopic sliver of an eggshell? That’s the last of my hope for humanity leaking away because you’re still a goddamn imbecile.”

“Yeah, well, puberty finally helped you grow a jawline. Shit could cut diamonds. Uh,” Dave panicked, “Not that I’m checking out your jaw or anything. Fuck, that wasn’t even a good come back, goddammit-”

Karkat’s simultaneously exasperated and fond made his heart flutter just the tiniest bit. “Just take me to the fucking burger place, shitbrain.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Maybe he wouldn’t be too lonely after all.

#dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #homestuck #THIS IS SUCH A GOOD PROMPT THANK YOU #my writing #okay to reblog #and thank u for the love omg <3 #u know how I said I'd made some really good friends???#that's you bro!!!!#thank you for making this a Good Time #notedchampagne #asks

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drarry-with-a-side-of-harry · 5 years

Text

Journey into the MCU XII

Avengers: Endgame

I just watched Endgame. Part of me doesn’t even know what to say. Some bits were brilliant and exactly what I wanted them to be and then some bits were just... a bit shit?

Don’t get me wrong. I loved it. Whenever something happened I was screaming ‘ABSOLUTELY NOT’ you know, in the best way :) ...But... I had to love it, you know what I mean? Seriously though, don’t really know what the shit I just watched (in a good way lol)

So, I love the fact that it started with Clint - that already got me crying (the first of the 41 instances of crying due to this film and probably the fact that I’m hormonal lmao). I adored Tony and Nebula’s interaction playing the game in space and I was like ‘Ah shit here we go again he’s adopting another one’ lol. I honestly had no idea how they were going to get back to Earth until That Bitch™ turns up - I actually waaaaay prefer Carol in this film to Captain Marvel!!!

STEVE RUNS TO TONY WHEN THE SHIP LANDS! I CAN’T! HE’S BY HIS SIDE BEFORE PEPPER EXCUSE YOU BITCH WHAT!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHH

I love them so much :’) sorry I’ll stop

Tony’s whole ‘zero zip nada no trust liar’ just. Wow. Very well done to both RDJ and Evans because that’s improvised right? I love!

I really like Thor, Protector of Lesbians and That Bitch’s interaction. Instantly a yes from me.

I enjoyed Thor’s desperation at just slicing that purple twat’s head off.

I’m trying to do this chronologically but I’m gonna start fucking up. Whatever.

I HATE what they did to Bruce. I wanted to see Bruce Banner being distraught and instead they wrote in all this unnecessary humour which personally I didn’t think was too funny maybe because I was too mad and made him permanently green?? Excuse me? The Russos have gotta be clowning right? The dared do THIS to the strongest avenger? Fuck off honestly. Think about what that man has been through - tried to kill himself and this is the treatment he gets?! No.

I like the fact that Thor is depressed because that was a natural decline. And I mean, he was depressed waaay before 2023 right? He has lost EVERYTHING and can’t really relate to anyone else because most of his loss was different, but he manages to maintain some of the humour we see from him in Ragnarok, HOWEVER I feel like the Russos were just trying too hard to make the humour happen and it just didn’t feel right?

LOVE THE FACT THAT THEY GOT OUT OF THE ‘OH SCOTT’S STUCK IN THE QUANTUM REALM’ PLOT HOLE WITH A RAT SCURRYING ACROSS THE CONTROLS. BITCH. I CAN’T EVEN BE MAD AT THAT. THAT’S JUST ICONIC.

Also, Tony Stark really is one of the best dads, huh? Along with Mr. Lang of course. AND NEITHER OF THEM GOT TO SEE THEIR KIDS GROW UP SORRY MORE ON THAT LATER.

I understand that Tony wasn’t on board at first, despite being a bit annoyed at him being selfish, I got it. And then bitch gets on board and everything’s happy for 20 minutes.

The Time Heist was ICONIC aND no one can tell me otherwise!!! Honestly just the fact that it was called the time heist and it was Scott’s plan and Scott is still tHE biggest fanboy - we stan.

I knew about the time travel shit before watching and thought they were gonna fuck it up because time travel is difficult with regard to not just going ‘so now we’re gonna go back and fix everything, job done’ but I actually think they did a pretty good job and did well explaining how *this version* of time travel was gonna work.

I really enjoyed Bruce’s interaction with the Ancient One and when she realises there must be a problem in the future if Stephen saved Tony’s life for the stone.

STEVE, TONY AND SCOTT WERE EVERYTHING AND I ABSOLUTELY LOVED THESE GUYS BACK IN 2012!!! I love Tony making Scott induce a heart attack. ICONIC. I live for the fact that we see all this sort of ‘behind the scenes’ action of The Avengers 2012 and the stuff that happened after the event and the ins and outs of everything. I will NEVER be over these whole shenanigans!!!!! I already knew about Cap V Cap but nOTHING could’ve prepared me for tHAT. This will be a continuing theme lol. I had no idea the whole ‘that is America’s ass’ thing actually happened jfc. SIDE NOTE: Tony really does say ‘I forgot that suit did nothing for your ass Cap’ bITCH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA why you looking though you bi little shit lmao I’m not sorry. Steve whispering Hail Hydra was iconic and I was screaming ‘FUCK YEH BITCH FUCK EM UP NOW THEY DONT KNOW WHAT THE FUCKS GOING ON HELL YEAH STEVE!!!!!!’ and at first I was like ‘wait, are they gonna recreate the CATWS elevator fight sequence?’ and then they did tHAT. ICONIC. And then I also knew that they go back further because I knew Tony met Howard and I knew about Dr. Potts and Capt. Stevens (lol) BUT NOTHING COULDVE PREPARED ME FOR THAT EITHER!!!! That shit got me FUCKED aND he hUGged him! He hugged his dad! I was! Not ready! For that!

Anyway so their time heist was really nice and I loved it so much it was everything I could’ve hoped for.

Thor and Frigga’s interaction I thought was really nice and she MUST know by the way he’s talking that in his future, the near future, she’s dead. I just find it so lovely and she completely restores Thor’s confidence in himself.

NOW

CLINT AND NAT

ABSOLUTELY NOT

That totally fucked me up. I knew Nat died at Vormir but turns out it didn’t matter that I already knew because nothing could’ve prepared me for that either.

For one, they hint at it quite a bit after they’ve finalised the plan - you know, that someone’s gonna go there and die. Nebula knows and we know that whoever’s going to Vormir ain’t coming back - well, one of them. oops

Secondly, I had no idea that they *playfully* fought it out to decide who it was gonna be and I was sOBBING from the moment they got to Vormir till- uhhh- well tbh it never stopped but you get the point. The whole fact that Nat realised that *this* was her purpose and after what Clint had been doing for the last five years, he thought he was too far gone and didn’t deserve his family anymore, even if they could get them back. It just totally fucked me up. That was one of my favourite scenes.

Sad Steve. AHHHH.

Then a whole load of shit happens and Thanos learns about the plan. I like the way Thanos talking about his future self is written, so kudos to the writers on that one!

I also appreciate the fact that there’s no delay between Thanos, Squidward and the rest of his crew coming to the future and the fight. That’s it. All of a sudden we’re straight into it! Great!

AHHHHHHH so now it’s time for The Big Three to confront Thanos and I just LOVE this sequence so much I honestly can’t express it and I was so so sooooo hoping that I would see these three on their own (plus purple numpty of course). At this point Thanos is just completely psycho because he wants to destroy the universe and create a new one which is an addition I really like - creates a new sense of urgency I suppose.

In other news, Steve Rogers is worthy! Which I love because somewhere around CATWS I started stanning this bitch!

Dr. Strange’s portals? ICONIC. Hotel? TRIVAGO.

Peter’s back and his and Tony’s whole interaction and hug had me in fucking tears jesus fUCKING christ nope. That shit hurt. THAT IS HIS SON RIGHT THERE. FUCK.

RIGHT.

TONY MOTHERFUCKING STARK.

The fact Stephen knows - has known for 5 years - what must happen.

The look on both their faces when Tony realises.

Nope.

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Made me wanna die.

Then he does it. Fuck. I’m completely fucked now. Thanks. And then Peter’s by his side and Peter’s whole speech while Tony’s just dYING!!!!!! ABSOLUTELY NOT. I DID NOT COME HERE TO BE HURT LIKE THIS. AND RHODEY. AND PEPPER. AND PEPPER HAS TO PULL PETER OFF. NOPE.

THEN they dare just cUT TO THE FUNERAL??!!?!

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Get the fuck out honestly.

Tony’s recording. No.

The placing of everyone at the funeral was just perfect. The funeral was just beautiful in general tbh. The Proof That Tony Stark Has A Heart on the flowers. HARLEY!!!!!!! NO.

AND MORGAN WANTED CHEESE BURGERS JFC HAPPY IS GOING TO BE THE BEST UNCLE WOW!!!

Did I know Tony Stark was gonna die? Yes I did. I would’ve had to leave Tumblr to not have found out. There’s only so much that tagging can hide and you see something that hints at it and then you see a quick gif and then you just know, you know?

Did it prepare me? Fuck no.

Now, Steve.

What tHE ACTUAL FUCK?

What was that?

I’m not buying it.

Love the fact he passed Cap onto Sam, but to spend the rest of his life with Peggy? Fuck no. Some girl he knew too seconds vs spending the rest of his life with his BEST FRIEND who was irreplaceable. Fuck off. Bucky’s face throughout the whole sequence. The poor man was fucking devastated. And I’m writing this from a canon perspective because I’m all for stucky you know? Then I asked my self: ‘How could Steve do that?’ Conclusion: he couldn’t and he wouldn’t - the writers were playing silly games and none of us, none of us are buying it.

Did I know all this was gonna go down? Yes. Was I prepared? No.

Not for Bucky’s fucking face jfc. All they got was a line and a quick hug. They were BEST FRIENDS. I honestly can’t stress that enough. Wow.

The deleted scenes. Of course I have watched them aND WHY IN THE SHIT WERE THEY DELETED??? Russos are fucking clowns!!!! They all fucking kneeled for him and that was cut? You having a laugh mate?! And Gerald the Alpaca was cut because??? The extra Howard and Tony didn’t make the cut? Excuse you? Tony’s talking about how he doesn’t think he’s done enough, and then he goes and does the aBSOLUTE MOST???? :’) fuck. And uhhh Rhodey having the ONLY brain cell in the avengers with the whole ‘well you coulda jumped out the plane beforehand Cap’ lmaooo brilliant!!!

So they may be deleted but let me tell you, they released them so now they’re fucking canon.

So in conclusion, did I know all the major spoilers before watching this film? Yes because I wasn’t going to be a tumblr hermit, but managed to pretty successfully ignore them until today. SO WAS I PREPARED? FUCK NO!

Surprisingly I LOVED Clint in Endgame - not that I didn’t like him before but I just really respect how broken he is in this. His family. Nat. It really adds up and I really enjoyed what they did with his character.

I did really love it generally but just wasn’t entirely happy with some of the character choices - because they seemed pretty damn out of character! There’s development over 5 years of not having seen them, and then... there’s... some other situations.

Would I have enjoyed it more not knowing any spoilers? Completely! But I wasn’t gonna stay clear of Tumblr for 4 months lol.

Main thing I will take away from watching this. I miss Tony Stark so much and love him so much. And no I will not shut up about it. And was I crying for a good hour after the film ended and then some whilst I was watching the extra content? Maybe.

Also I’m so emotional that this is IT for Downey and Chris. Wow. Ok I’m done :’)

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fanfic-inator795 · 5 years

Text

RotTMNT Oneshot: So, Two Mutants Are Waiting For a Bus-

(Also on AO3 if you feel like leaving a kudos/comment)

Plot: They may have had completely different lives, but they still met the same fate. As someone who had managed to just recently find his way to the brighter side of living life as a mutant, Bullhop decides to give a bit of advice to the worm man sitting next to him, whether he wants it or not.

((Another fic I've been wanting to write for a while. Gotta love those character parallels ^v^ Enjoy!))

The night he mutated, Stanley hadn’t managed to grab much from his apartment in his panic. He’d already knocked over several trash cans and mailboxes on the way there, alarming people enough to start screaming for police. The sirens in the distance didn’t exactly lower his anxiety levels either. So, he just grabbed some clothes and undergarments from his dresser, not caring if they would still fit him, some leftovers and cans of food, and his spare change jar. He knew none of it wouldn’t last him very long, but at least it was something.

This time, however, packing his belongings had been much less stressful. ...Mostly because he didn’t have as much. Donatello had given him a homemade smartphone at the beginning of Bullhop Appreciation Day, and using that along with some money the turtles had scrounge up for him, he bought a bus ticket that would take him on a seventy-two hour drive straight to Etobicoke. Afterwards, he grabbed a few things from his tent before digging up a couple more coats and blankets (as well as a new hat and some shoes) from various dumpsters. He had smiled when he was able to find ones that just barely managed to fit his new physique, calling it a lucky break, or perhaps fate itself providing a sign that he was on the right path.

With everything he cared to take with him folded up and placed in a tote bag (save for one thing, which he kept hidden under his coat), Stanley - or Bullhop, as he was enjoying being called now - made his way to the bus station, managing to get there without knocking too much over. Though, he did accidentally dent one car but he left a note so, it was probably fine.

Sighing, Bullhop sat down on the bench, making sure to adjust his hat so it hid his horns. He still had about half an hour to wait, and since he wanted to save his phone battery for the trip, he resigned himself to just sitting and waiting. There were things he wanted to think about anyway, like how he was going pitch his ‘mutant ballet’ idea. What would his first show be? Maybe some sort of mutant version of Swan Lake? That could be a crowd pleaser! Or maybe-

The sudden coo of a bird followed by a loud yelp was enough to bring Bullhop out of his brief brainstorming session. “Oh for the love of-! How many of you am I going to have to barbeque before you feather-brains learn to take! A! HINT!” He turned just in time to blinded by a bright light.

Bullhop cringed, quickly covering his eyes. The pigeon screeched, flapping away as the smell of smoke filled the night air. “And STAY AWAY! You pest!” a man shouted after it. Daring to risk a peek, Bullhop slowly moved his hands away from his face.

Standing just outside of the station’s light, Bullhop could see a small figure - REALLY small! - with what looked like a big head and an even bigger fist that was still glowing slightly. “Whoa… That’s some bird zapper you’ve got there.”

The figure scoffed. “It does more than just zap birds, moron.”

“Oh… So, I guess the bird zapping is a bonus then? Heh…” Even in the dark, Bullhop could tell the small man was scowling back at his awkward smile. “Sorry… You okay?”

“I’ll be fine ,” the man insisted as he started walking - no, crawling towards the bus stop bench, dragging his giant fist behind him, “Once I get back to my apartment and get some shuteye…” Yet another awful day had come and gone for him… First his latest plan for destroying his teenage enemies was deemed a failure by his teammates, all of them refusing to even give it a chance. Then his so-called allies simply talked over him during their brainstorming session (because apparently their plans were sooooo much better!), leaving him rejected and aggravated once again. For the cherry on the horrible day sundae, he had begun craving his favorite Chinatown restaurant late in the afternoon, deciding he deserved a bit of a treat. Unfortunately, the place didn’t deliver, nor was it near any bus stops. He was ignored by taxis, and by the time he traveled through the various obstacles of New York, the restaurant was closed.

‘And now,’ he thought to himself, ‘I have to make small-talk with this bozo. Great. Juuuust great…’ As he got closer, Bullhop couldn’t help but gape a bit at the sight of him. Even after seeing plenty of mutants at Big Mama’s gala, he was still a bit shocked by something so drastic.

The man in front of him was a worm. A literal worm! With a purple jacket and poofy, well coiffed blonde hair that seemed sort of familiar, but Bullhop couldn’t quite place it. The worm narrowed his green eyes. “And what are you looking at, kid?”

“N-Nothing!” Bullhop replied, quickly looking away, “Just, uh… So, you uh… You got mutated too, eh?”

“Gee, what was your first clue?” the worm retorted as he crouched down slightly. With one mighty jump, he was able to hop onto bench. He also squished himself in the process, thanks to the giant fist, which Bullhop could now see was in actuality a metal gauntlet. But the worm recovered before Bullhop could even offer to help get it off him.

“Right… Well, uh- Just, hang in there, buddy.”

“...” The worm turned to give him an incredulous stare. Bullhop winced. Okay, yep, definitely poor choice of words. “‘Hang in there’? HANG IN THERE?! Are you serious?! We’re both mutated freaks and all you can say is ‘hang in there’?!”

“I’m sorry!” Bullhop said quickly, holding his hands up in defense. The worm didn’t raise his gauntlet, but he sure looked like he wanted to use it. “I-I just meant, I know what it’s like to have rough days, a-and what it’s like to suddenly get turned into a mutant! But it gets better, I promise!”

The worm scoffed, looking away. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, kid… And even if you did, I highly doubt our problems are the same. You got mutated into a huge, strong, muscular bull! And what did I get? I got turned into, into-!” He stopped, gritting his teeth. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. None of it will matter! Not once I get my revenge for what they did to me!”

“Look, I- Wait, ‘they’? And, revenge?” Did he really mean-?

“And when I, Warren Stone, DO finally get my revenge, I’ll be praised as a hero by all the other freaks in this city!” Warren shouted, grinning wickedly, “And then it’ll be those teenage mutant ninja turtles that’ll have their names forgotten!”

“Wait wait WAIT!” Bullhop shouted, waving his hands, “You’ve got it all wrong! The Turtles aren’t the bad guys here, they-” He blinked. “...Wait, you’re Warren Stone? I was wondering what happened to you, but I just thought you retired or-”

“SEE?!” Warren screamed suddenly, making the bull flinch once more (and this time, nearly taking the whole back of the bench down with him). “This is what I mean?! I’ve been FORGOTTEN! Disgraced! Turned into a WORM that no one can even recognize! AND IT’S ALL THOSE STINKIN’ TURTLES’ FAULT!!!”

The worm’s voiced echoed through the nearly empty bus station. A worker behind the ticket counter glanced up from her magazine and a homeless gentleman a few benches back stirred a bit, but other than that, it would seem his only audience was the shocked bull sitting beside him.

“...You’re wrong,” Bullhop began, “And, I know that’s not what you want to hear right now but, I’m also not gonna just sit here and let you insult my friends.”

Warren raised an eyebrow. “Friends?! But they’re the ones who-!”

“It wasn’t their fault!” Bullhop insisted, “The things that mutated us are the mosquitos! And one night, a whole bunch of them showed up to my hotel! Er, well, not really my hotel but… But it felt like mine in a way, you know.” Smiling softly, Bullhop reached into his coat and took out his Bellhop of the Month plaque. It was one of two things, the other being his tattered uniform, that he had decided to keep from his old life. Just because he was starting fresh didn’t mean he had to leave everything behind.

Warren stretched up a bit to get a good look at the plaque. “...That’s a really bad picture,” he stated.

“I wasn’t ready for the flash. Anyway, the Turtles showed up and tried to catch all the mosquitoes before they could bite anyone, and- well…”

“Aaaand they screwed up,” Warren finished for him, his expression now flat, “Because they’re idiots.”

Bullhop scowled. “Hey, they may not be the brightest guys, or even the most observant, but they’re not idiots. And they really did try to do their job, it just wasn’t enough. But, because of their mistake, my life was changed forever. I went from being the best bellhop in town to being a big, clumsy bull that couldn’t even take two steps without tripping all over himself or wrecking something.”

But despite this unfortunate fact, he still smiled as he thought about the past couple weeks. “But then, weeks later, the Turtles found me again, and they… They wanted to help me. To make up for their mistake, and to help me get back up on my feet. And they were so nice, without wanting anything in return! They let me stay with them, gave me food, introduced me this really cool dance game which, somehow, gave me both great dance skills AND confidence! And I was someone who had NEVER danced before! But now, well, I don’t want to brag but-” Seeing the glare Warren was giving him, Bullhop decided to just get to his point.

“Yeah, they sorta messed up my life but, but they also cared enough to help me find a new one! And now I’m going back home to Canada! I’m going to dance and find my own stage and, heh, and just not care if I end up stumbling all over it! Because I’m happy now, even as a bull, and I’m sure if you just-” Warren growled, suddenly turning away again. “...A-And I’m sure if you just asked them, they’d help you find a new life too? And, um, help you become happy with… being a mutant?” Bullhop winced again. Not exactly the most inspiring way to end a speech, and he didn’t need to see the worm’s face to know it.

“Wow,” Warren said quietly after a moment, scoffing, “You really don’t know anything, do you, kid? I don’t want another life, I want my life! My OLD life! You were some nobody working in a hotel, I was a somebody! The face of a city! The guy who brought people the news! The handsomest newscaster on local tv! You’ve never won an award like that! You’ve never been on tv or been famous enough to be recognized on the street! You DEFINITELY don’t know what it’s like to suddenly only be a few inches tall! You-! You-!” His tiny body was practically shaking with rage. “You’re not even from this country so what do you know?!”

“WHOA! Okay,” Bullhop said, glaring fully at the worm now, “Are you REALLY going to go there?”

“Ugh, fine, that last bit was rude, even for a New Yorker,” Warren grumbled. He rubbed his eyes, forcing his anger down somewhat. “But the rest of my points still stand. We might have both lost everything in our lives, but I had a lot harder to fall. So you don’t get to tell me that it’s all going to be okay, not when you and I have clearly had different experiences when it comes to this whole mutant thing.” His glare deepened. “And as for your friends… Hmph, those turtles can try to make up for their ‘mistakes’ all they want, but they’re still a menace. And I’m still going to be the one to take them out once and for all.”

“...Have you ever considered podcasts?”

Warren blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Podcasts,” Bullhop repeated, “I mean, I know it’s hard for you to get a job on tv now but, with a podcast, no one would know you were a worm, if that’s what you wanted. And if you didn’t mind people knowing, you could make that part of your gimmick. Help you stand out, you know?”

Warren just gave him another flat stare. “I used to be on tv. Podcasts are beneath me.”

“I dunno,” Bullhop shrugged, “A lot of podcasters get pretty famous.” A cold silence fell between them. One of the old lights above flickered as an oozesquito bumped into it. Bullhop watched it, not too worried. You couldn’t get mutated twice, right? The thing looked like it was at the end of its life anyway, just bumping into a bright, harsh light over and over.

Warren watched it too. Thinking about it, he did recall the feeling of something pinching that fateful day… But those turtles had still been around too. They had to be related to the oozesquitos somehow, they just had to! Maybe the purple one created them or, or maybe they released them onto the city as a prank and only started trying to wrangle them up when they got bored with the results. Whatever the reason, it had to be something. It just had to be!

Still, he wondered as he watched the bug above, out of all the millions of people in the city, why did it have to bite him? Why did it have to change him?

“I get why you hate them,” Bullhop started again, “I hated them too… But they really are good guys trying their best. And I mean, they are younger than both of us so… I feel like we could cut them a bit of slack. Teenagers don’t really deserve to get destroyed for dumb teen mistakes, even ones as big as this.” He paused for a moment as a thought crossed his mind. “So what did they say?”

“What?” Warren asked, looking back up at him.

“When you told them that they were responsible to what happened to you. What did they say?”

Warren huffed. “Those punks don’t listen when I threaten them and explain my plans. I’m lucky if I can even get them to remember my name!”

Bullhop blinked slowly. “...So they don’t know.”

“...If they don’t listen to threats and screaming,” Warren countered, glaring once again - though by this point, he hardly had any energy left to make it effective, “What makes you think they’ll listen if I tell them that they’re the reason I’m like this and that they should ‘be good guys’ and help me find my new purpose or whatever?”

The bull shrugged. “You never know if you don’t try, and maybe if they saw you less as an enemy-”

“ Greatest enemy.”

“-Greatest enemy and more as just a fellow mutant that need help, they wouldn’t ignore you.”

“I highly doubt that,” he sneered. It was just as Warren thought, this guy had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. And even if he was right, Warren was certainly not about to go crawling to his enemies and beg for their help.

His life was sad enough as is.

Speaking of which- His empty stomach growled as he placed a hand on it. Warren took a moment to think. He was pretty sure he still had some leftovers in his fridge, though he couldn’t remember how old they were. Maybe if he could sneak into his landlord’s office and grab some of his bread-

“Here.” “Huh?” Suddenly, a package of turkey jerky was placed in front of him. “I know it’s not the greatest but uh, I figured I probably shouldn’t eat beef jerky anymore,” he heard Bullhop explain. He had been saving it for the bus ride, hoping to make it stretch till their first rest stop but- “You can have some if you want. And uh, I’ve got some cheese-flavored potato chips too.”

Warren was silent for a moment. “You can keep the jerky,” he finally replied, “But I’ll take some of the chips.” Bullhop handed him the entire bag.

It wasn’t long before the bus Bullhop had been waiting for came rolling towards them. “By the way,” he said, a pleasant smile back on his face, “The name’s Stanley, but my friends call me Bullhop. If you’re ever heading up north for whatever reason and need a place to stay, call me up, eh?”

“...Seriously? Bullhop?” Warren shook his head. “And you used to be a bellhop. Just… Wow.”

“Hey, it works.” And if it really was going to be his new name for the rest of his life… Well, Stanley was just fine with that.

The air became a bit smokey once again as the old bus pulled up. Warren watched as Bullhop boarded, tripping on the steps and nearly taking the whole door off. It almost made him chuckle.

“Good luck, kid,” he mumbled, “You’re going to need it…”

Once it was clear no one else was going to board, the bus drove away, leaving Warren all alone once more. His eyes glanced back up at the light, but found no oozesquito. Instead it was lying flat on its back, dead on the ground with the bright green ooze within it now dark.

Warren narrowed his eyes as his tiny hands crumbled up the chip bag. It didn’t matter if he had lost everything… He would make sure to repay those annoying turtles in full. Ruin their lives before destroying them slowly and painfully. Maybe it wouldn’t turn him back into a handsome human newscaster and give him back his fans, but it would still be satisfying. It would still be a victory of sorts, and that would be enough.

The Bullhops of the city could let themselves become content with their new freakish lives, but Warren Stone was going to fight! He clenched his mystically-enhanced fist tightly, smirking at the burning power he felt within it. He focused on its power and warmth, which allowed him to also ignore the chilly evening wind that was starting to come in..

Yes… Bullhop may have found his own path with dance games and trips back home, but this. THIS was Warren’s path, he was sure of it. It was his new purpose in life, and he was going to reach his victory and destroy his reptilian foes, one way or another…

THE END

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #warren stone #bullhop #fanfiction #oneshot #my writing #once again I'm that person in the fandom that writes about the minor characters it would seem. lol

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bugsrepellsgant · 5 years

Text

OKIE ive been kicking this au around my brain for months so here’s an outline or whatever

WORKING TITLE: toki and pickles travel cross country to california like kermit and fozzie in the muppet movie OR toki and pickles do america

TL;DR toki and pickles are both 17-ish, the year is 199X, theyre hauling ass to socal to audition for SnB, but instead they accidentally get dethklok together and fall in love :-)

pickles has freshly stepped out and couch surfed his way to greenbay, and just managed to scrape together enough cash for a bus ride to minneapolis (going east to go west is counterintuitive and dumb but so is american public transport) BUT THEN

toki’s one-ish year out of home, has scraped together enough money working for runke to apply for a passport but once he gets to the offices oh no!!! he doesn’t have any proof of citizenship! and he’s a minor! aw fuck now he’s gotta stow away on an oil tanker cus staying isnt an option (yes this is paddington now)

he lands in boston harbor, gets far enough inland on foot and by ferry until he reaches GREEN BAY, WI and he’s a day or two of panhandling away from meeting the ticket fee BUT THEN

its friday night which means its fucking college football night which means SHITTY COLLEGE BROS HAVE DESCENDED UPON THE CITY!

pickles gets briefly needled for being short and ginger but u know he Lives hes been getting this kind of shit forever. HOWEVER toki is immediately singled out as a funny lookin, high voiced, gnome hat weirdo with an accent and he’s trying to laugh along ??? ha ha?? but its so Bad and pickles feels Bad but he’s gotta get outta here-

Oh God one of the bros tried to to take toki’s guitar away and toki flipped shit and its a fight now!! he’s outnumbered but our boy pickles intervenes!!! they’re winning? OH GOD SOMEONE CALLED THE FUCKING COPS

escape! safe; breathless in an alley; “hey whats yooooour name???” “toki!” “heheheheh toke-ki >B-)” “?????” “im pickles” “you namesed pickle???? ‘,:-/“ bla bla bla oh u play guitar? i play drums but i like guitar too there’s a band in LA i wanna play for ya wanna come with???

a car is obtained at... some point

and OH BOY DOES HE!

a long series of shenanigans occur! our boys get stopped, turned around, detoured, misdirected, all kinds of classic farce bullshit, later on we make and pick up friends at pitstops! a fellow highschool dropout with a killer voice in kissimmee, the best guitarist youve heard in your life dodging swedish mandatory service in chicago, a dude with the stankiest bassline (and feet) that side of the mississippi in the texas panhandle, a TOTAL buzzkill geek of a harvard freshman on summering at his family villa near denver, a cool headed, smart as hell, fuckin julliard composer in training who produces music FOR FUN visiting her family in downtown phoenix.

oh my GOD what is seth fucking DOING HERE is that lady his GIRLFRIEND is she PREGNANT what the HELL GO HOME IF YOU TELL MOM WHERE WE ARE ILL KILL YOU DEAD

seth’s also hanging out with this other guy who seems...... cool? you think? fun, talented, good at guitar like both our boys, pickles’ kinda guy to be honest? there’s something about him thats hard to trust though.

sharing hotel rooms, sleeping in truck beds, they get curious about each others lives? pickles clocked toki as a weird hick at first blush, and tbh he was right but? he went to highschool with farm kids and knows farm kid-weird from weird-weird and toki’s WEIRD-weird. and sweet. and funny. the polaroid in toki keeps of a man and a woman, the man in a reverend’s hat, makes pickles scared to ask. especially since toki’s been cool enough to mind his own business.

toki’s fascinated by pickles’ bouts of righteous anger. unlike runke, his rage has energy and intent, and the stunt he pulled in green bay was so nice and so COOL! he’s one such real cool guy with a cool leather jacket and cool hair... but Why is he so mad all the time? why does he drink so much, it doesnt even taste good? why does he STEAL drinks when they have no money? what happened to toki’s nice, cool, brand new friend pickle? something like what happened to toki? but? pickles is so Cool and Nice and NORMAL and toki is so Weird and Stupid and Wrong in ways toki’s horrified to let him discover. its better not to ask him, he guesses.

feelings get stronger as all the bad things come to light. crying hugs are had. pickles drops what was going to be bus money on a replacement V for toki and toki drops his panhandling dough on a goldtop for pickles.

WE FINALLY GET TO LA AND......? what the fuck

the glam/hair scene is dead in the water. Snakes n Barrels supernova’ed. no more audition. no more career. shit shit shit.

but all the friends weve made along the way are here for our boys! they’ll just start their OWN BAND!!!! TAMPA! MORDHAUS! DETHKLOK’S A-GO!! everythings comin up milhouse!

our boys are Officially *an item* and they ride into the sunset together, stirrup to stirrup, side by side. big gay kiss. the end :-)

OTHER THINGS THAT HAPPEN:

amber goes into labor during one of seth’s drop in visits and everyone gets emo about family as a concept, pickles and seth gave a heart to heart, no one is too metal for feelings when the baby comes bc life is beautiful

magnus pulls some scary/mean bs but its nothing too awful and theres forgiveness and lessons learnt and stuff.

the duel! but theres THREE GUITARISTS?????!!!!!!!!!! MAYBE FOUR?

toki and pickles will both have religious drama but pickles’ drama is more of a sidenote in his list of Issues (pickles’ family is probably catholic and i was raised catholic and i GOTTA project. i GOTTA)

lgbt themes because IM GAY and THEYRE GAY PRRRRBBBBT

murderface? finds love?? GAY LOVE???

this post is too long g-g-g’byeeeee!

#tickles #toki wartooth #pickles the drummer #LOOOOOONG POST OH MY GOD #4 AM????? HELLO?????

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i-am-parsec · 5 years

Text

Unaddressed Letters - Part V

Leaving Jacksonville - part I

The night they leave is warm and quiet. End of the summer, the streets downtown are still fairly crowed after the sun goes down, Stacy has some costumers roaming around the thrift shop while Chase, just across the street, sweats in the kitchen of a Mexican restaurant, trying to leave no meat uncooked and no drink without ice.

During a brief moment of precious spare time, he checks his phone.

“Call me when you are done with the dishes, kitchen boy" reads the screen.

His heart skips a beat and he frowns. Of course she’s texting him, they are friends. They go back home together every single night after work. This is not something worth a heart-beat skipping, when the fuck is his brain going to get the memo?

He can’t continue his internal screaming - those burritos aren’t going to make themselves.

The young girl puts her phone away as an old man approaches the counter. Dark eyes, whitening short brown hair, a full goatee and about two heads taller than her. He doesn’t look scary per se, but neither does he look friendly and yet Stacy is invaded by an strange feeling of warm comfort when met by this unknown client and ponders, for a second, why. When it clicks, her hands freeze. She keeps her gaze glued on the light blue shirt she’s bagging, choking back the tears. It’s always like this, something ordinary, unimportant, pulls the trigger and the pain rushes to her eyes. She manages to snap out of it, but not without the man noticing.

“Is everything okay, ma’am?”

Fuck, even his voice is similar. She fails at smiling and looks away.

“Yes, sir, it’s just…you look a lot like...uh, my dad. Well, not a lot, it’s mostly the beard...I think…”

As she looks down, it’s impossible to deny the burn in her throat and the shaking of her hands. Not now, please, not here. Crying during working hours in a thrift shop that’s probably – totally – laundering drug money.

Well, that’s a new low.

“Did you lose him recently?” asks the man gently, prompting her to look up.

“No, I…I lost him when I was kid. He was shot…a robbery gone wrong…”

He nods, no trace of pity in his features, only compassion and understanding. Maybe he lives in town, maybe he also lost someone in the hands of the corrupted and greedy. Maybe he knows this pain too.

“I’m sorry to tell you, darling, that it won’t ever stop hurting, especially in your case, a loss so unfair, but let me tell you this…” the old man stops for a second, and then, with more conviction than Stacy has ever witnessed in her entire life “…you are strong enough to handle this and any other nonsense that life throws at you. You just gotta remember that, always."

Her phone buzzes for a long minute but she doesn’t pick up. She’s still holding her breath when he gives her the money. She wants to tell him to not worry about it, the shirt is on her, but with such a tight budget, every cent counts. All she can do is smile and thank him.

Another call. She tries her best to sound calm but Chase can tell something's wrong in the tiredness of her "hey". She explains quickly, hoping to ease his friend's mind - he's already anxious mess by default, wouldn't want to fuel it up - and after repeating at least ten times "yes, Chase, I swear I'm ok now", she sighs and then asks.

"Can we go down to the bar tonight?"

There's a second of silence. She hates drinking or, to be more precise, she hates seeing him drinking. She claims he likes it a bit too much for his own good. She continues.

"I'll hurry up and close this dumpster in a minute, and then we go straight down to Joe's, what do you say?"

He knows what his friend is doing, she's avoiding herself, avoiding the thinking, the pain and honestly, he can't blame her. He's been there, done that, and she always stayed by his side whenever he went into Emotionless Drunk Mess mode, so he has no problem returning the favor now.

"I say I'm covered in sweat, blood and other unknown bodily fluids so maybe we go home and take a shower first?"

When she laughs, he feels his heart become a little lighter.

"First of all: ew, gross; secondly: We take shower? Are you suggesting we take it together, Brody?"

And there it is, that's the Stacy he knows and loves - a teasing smart ass. This time though, he doesn't let her words fluster him - too much - and attacks back.

"Of course, Walters, we gotta do it for the environment's sake, you know? We gotta save water!"

"Oh, yeah, totally, that’s why, it has nothing to do with you dying to see me naked."

"I feel so insulted you would even dare to think that, young lady, I am a gentleman!"

"Oh, sure thing, perv. Okay, I'll finish here and meet you outside in a bit."

The smile on his face lingers all the way until he sees her walking out the store. He nods curiously at the bag on her hand. She smiles like a kid planning a prank and simply winks.

“I’m just borrowing a little something.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s called stealing, Stacy.”

She chuckles and then, as she usually does, starts a fire in his chest with just a short phrase.

“Don’t judge me, I just want to look pretty for our date.”

She’s joking, Brody, she’s fucking joking, like all friends do.

Just as they get to their stop, their bus arrives.

“This must be our lucky night” exclaims Stacy surprised. Once they are settled in their seats, she rests her head on his shoulder and grabs his hand. Chase simply does his best to not suffer a stroke.

“We have to get out of here, dude. Soon.”

“That’s the plan” stutters the young man, wishing he could sound a bit less nervous by something that they have been doing for years now.

“Yeah, I know, but we always talk about it as a goal in the future and I…I don’t know. I feel like we shouldn’t wait too long or we might end up never leave this town” mutters Stacy with a sudden grim tone.

“Don’t say that, dude, of course we are doing it,” says her friend as her grabs her chin, looking for her eyes, all awkwardness replaced by the imperative need to bring her smile back “we promised we would, didn’t we?”

She nods half-heartedly and snuggles up against him, like a lost dog hides from the rain under a frail tree. As he hugs her, bringing her closer, he whispers against her dark hair: “Let’s set a date.”

“For our wedding? Sorry, Brody, but you haven’t even proposed to me yet” she jokes dryly.

Ignoring the sudden rush of heat on his body, he replies: “No, dumbass, for our escape!”

She come out of her shelter and looks at him with a hint of excitement on her eyes.

“A date?”

“Yeah, a date. Tell me when you want to leave.”

She bites her lower lip - one of her many quirks that drives him insane - and inhales slowly. As she breathes out, she answers: “End of this year. That should give us enough time to save a decent amount of money, make a good plan and maybe find a place to rent.”

“Well, end of the year it is. December 31 we are getting the fuck out of Jacksonville.”

And when he laughs, she feels the whole world become a little lighter.

More info, previous chapters, tag list AND HEADCANONS under the cut

First and foremost, I apologize for any mistakes in the chapter. This one wasn’t proof-read either and on top of that I wrote it on a rush but hopefully it’s decent ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

All chapters in chronological order, here. Previous chapter, here. Next chapter, here.

SO, yes, this is a two-part chapter - truth be told, I’m only posting this now and not both parts as one since I’m quite busy and have no time to finish writing it but I still wanted to post something now as, idk, a christmas special???? whatever, I just wanted to post it, lol

Anyways, HEADCANON TIME:

* As you may have noticed in the last chapter, Chase and Stacy’s daughter - Esperanza (which, by the way, means Hope in Spanish) - has a VERY Latino name, well, that’s because my hc is that Stacy is latina! Well, half latina, her mom is latina, her dad is white and because Stacy is white-passing and her mom knew about the struggles of being a Latina woman in the US, Stacy’s parents decided to give her a very white first name, so she would have it “easier” in life. Spoiler alert: she didn’t have it easier in life. Like, at all.

* Despite that, she still has a very Latino second name - Dolores (which means Pains in Spanish *winkwink*) - that she loves just as much as she loves her Latino heritage, and that’s why she named her daughter like that - Chase 100% loves the name as well.

* This is kinda spoilerish (because I will explore this headcanon in far more depth later on the fic) but I still feel you guys should know: Before they were the best of friends, Henrik and Chase were penpals - they met through an elementary school penpal project and kept writing each other all the way until adulthood, when they finally met face to face.

* Neither Chase or Stacy had pets - or were allowed to have any - by the time they became friends, but they both love animals and started feeding a cat they always came across on their way to school. They named the cat Sam.

* Stacy is allergic to cats. She loved Sam from a distance.

* Chase knows quite a bit of Spanish Stacy taugh him. She didn’t teach him just for funsies but because she ended up getting him a job in a Mexican restaurant and the owners didn’t speak English. She was very impressed by how easy it was for him to get used to the Latino enviroment and how good he turned out to be at cooking.

* Chase knows Stacy likes her second name better than her first, but sucks at pronuncing it correctly so he only call her Dolores jokingly andsometimeswhentheyhavesex

* They weren’t each others “first”, but Stacy told Chase after they did it for the first time that she had never enjoyed sex before him (and Chase almost cried because of such huge compliment).

* Esperanza is fluent in Spanish and English and knows a bit of German thanks to Uncle Henrik. Henrik is also Esperanza’s godfather.

I have way more headcanons but all of them are incredibly spoilery, so this is all you get for now. Now let’s move on to the next chap-

❤ Tag list ❤: @amyxmiaplay, @beck-pma, @closedworldofmathiel, @darktrash-drash, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @flyingfishflopsthings, @fruitycasket, @happysingingturtles, @hiimizzyxoxo, @hishex, @kitnkas, @mcomegalletas, @mijako98, @mjjau, @mysterious-cupcake-ninja, @mysticalanimallover, @novasingalaxies, @plutoandpolaris, @probablyghosting, @randomartdudette, @saltyweirdbi, @sassy-in-glasses, @scarlet--raven, @septicuniverse, @skyewardlight, @thevampireauthoress, @youllnevertaketheskyfromme

Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please reblog, that helps me a lot ❤

#Chase Brody #Stacy Brody #Unaddressed Letters #Jacksepticeye #Antisepticeye #Henrik Von Schneepletein #Dr. Schneeplestein #Fanfic #JSE #fanfiction #JSE egos #JSE community #therealjacksepticeye

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