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dreaming-gamer · 4 years

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DMC week Day 1: Weapon – V & Nico

Gen, no shipping.

Warning: Angst towards the end.

V had never expected such an atmosphere, but there was something tranquil about being able to sit on the couch in Nico’s RV, just quietly reading the pages of his beloved anthology for perhaps the hundredth time. A soft purr rumbled against his sandal-clad feet. It was usually harder to tell his feline companion’s feelings, compared to Griffon, but at the moment, Shadow seemed perfectly content with a nap, as well as keeping V off his feet for a bit.

The summoner couldn’t deny the recent days of fighting was starting to leave an aching strain in his muscles. This moment of rest might be short, there were still many demons about after all but until Nero returned, they could only wait in this safe spot that Nico had parked in.

Speaking of the self-proclaimed Queen of machines, she was currently happily tinkering away at the latest piece of demon parts V had salvaged for her and V could admit it was a relaxing sound to hear in the background. Gears being twisted, her small exclamations of discovery, the clink of tools and metal meeting. Her work left a smell of oil in the air, but it was not unpleasant compared to the stench of demon blood and guts he had gotten so utterly used to by now.

“Oh-hee! I am a genius!”

The sudden shout was louder than most of her exclamations during the last hour and made Shadow lift her head. V kept his gaze on the book, just as fast footsteps thundered his way.

Making a mental note of which page he was on, V raised his gaze but had no time to ask what she had now figured out before she let out a huff.

“What, Nero’s not back yet?” Nico’s hand went for her tool belt, found the package and pulled out a cigarette for herself.

“It would appear not.” V agreed matter-of-factly, softly closing his book. “Did you need him for something?”

The grin that grew on Nico’s face matched a cat that just got a bowl of cream, she grinned all around the cigarette as she took a drag.

“That thing ya brought back resulted in something real special. Wanna have a peek? Free of charge!”

V felt a smirk tug at his lips.

“Well, if you are being so generous…”

Shadow moved just enough for her master to get up properly, using his cane for a bit of support to rise. Making his way through the small space of the RV, the sight that greeted him at the artisan’s workbench was certainly… odd. The design was quite unlike any of the earlier Devil Bringers she had made and V had found the Pasta Breaker an interesting enough design choice. This Devil Bringer didn’t look like a hand even.

This object was blue, didn’t resemble an arm at all really, though V could see where it was supposed to attach.

“I call it the Mega Buster!” Nico proudly declared, just as the soft ruffle of wings left V’s tattoos.

“Oh yeah, what does it even do? I don’t know if you noticed but it’s not even a hand!” Griffon snickered, setting himself down on one of the cupboards.

“That’s because this one shoots. Maybe ya wanna be target practice, little chickee?” The artisan replied, lowering her voice.

“I had enough of those damn blasts fighting the thing! You could thank me!” Griffon exclaimed, his feathers ruffled so he took to disappearing into his host but V couldn’t help smirking a bit at the exchange. He knew his familiar had not forgotten the threat of the steel pot. As for the battle itself, V did not miss those energy blasts either, the lower hem of his leather coat was singed off. If Nero could harness that power, well, wouldn’t that be useful? The showing of her recent creation sparked a question he had been wanting to ask for a while.

“If you do not mind me asking…” V started as Nico took another drag of her cigarette. “...how did you come up with the idea for these Devil Bringers?” V was genuinely curious, Nero’s case was certainly special, considering how one of his arms had been lost. But V had never heard of a prosthetic limb being built with such potential for combat. Boisterous she might be, but Nico did have quite a knack for the mechanical, that he could not deny.

Nico snorted, letting out a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s a fun story alright. So Nero came wobblin’ back to Fortuna right, demanded I’d fix an arm for him. Sure, I was onboard, but then the psycho dropped a one-month deadline! Hell, he didn’t get that something like that would take half a year at least!”

V nodded, letting her continue while swatting away the cloud of smoke she blew out in his direction. Either she didn’t think about diverting the smoke, or she just did not care. The RV was her castle, after all.

“So we stood there arguing about it, when there was this guy who barged in and told Nero there was demon trouble! I told the jackass to get in, ya could tell from his face he wasn’t skipping that fight.” Nico grinned, exhaling a small cloud through her nostrils. “Damn, never seen a fight like that up close. The demon was called a Blitz or whatever. That didn’t matter though. What mattered was the way its remains were all sparky after Nero turned it to shish kebab. And that’s when yours truly got the idea for the Overture.” She stated, a proud glint evident in her brown eyes, smoke dancing around her grin.

“An impressive feat, for such a short amount of time.” V nodded as her story appeared finished.

“I know, right? So, you want me to have a lookie at what ya got? Maybe I can give ya an upgrade since Nero’s new toy’s all done.”

Before V had time to consider her offer, the mechanic snatched the cane from his light grip. V let her even though the gesture was quite rude, he felt a bit of… curiosity. Along with no small amount of doubt, considering the cane’s origins as well as well as other factors. Yet a bit of curiosity if her self-proclaimed, and quite proven genius, could find out anything about the cane that he had missed. He stayed silent as she examined his cane, just curiously watching while leaning lightly against the counter while she tapped the cane with a tool. Turned it over from every angle and checked it, even brought it close to some slivers of demonic remains to check for a reaction. There was a tiny spark as she brought the cane down on it and then, the small piece of demon flesh disintegrated.

“Metal seems good for conducting demonic energy. But is that all it does?” She sounded a bit disappointed at the lack of findings.

“It lets me finish off demons, as long as they’re weakened. I believe that will have to do.” V didn’t really have any other expectations of it, at this point.

“Oh, wait, maybe I can make some kinda coating on it? Let’s ya cut through demons more easily.” V could almost see the gears in her head starting to work, the spark of inspiration coming to life.

Admittedly, it didn’t sound like an impossible idea. But…

“I thought you used up today’s materials.” V stated, his gaze falling on the slivers of demonic remains that now looked like nothing but grains of what had once been.

“So what if I did? There’s still demons roaming about out there. Oh-hee, Nero might even bring something back!” Excitement was alight in her eyes as she took out her cigarette, put out what was left of it against an ashtray on the counter before handing back V’s aid.

V took the cane, leaned on it slightly, finding the inspiration that seemed to hit her at the mere thought of more work to be quite interesting. She clearly lived for this, just as she had claimed she wanted to be legendary like her grandmother.

“You just might become that…” He said in thought, slightly to himself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, pardon me.” V smirked and she just raised an eyebrow before grabbing for another cigarette.

”Just ya wait, I can equip ya with something better for kicking demon ass. Or maybe ya want a nice frying pan, for when the lil’ chickee gets too much?” Nico snickered, her grin almost sympathetic. V smirked, maybe she could come up with something brilliant for him as well. But for now, it was much better if she concentrated those efforts on Nero.

”I appreciate the offer. But I believe I’m properly equipped, for now.” V knew his reality did not include running around with a sword on his back, swinging it around was not in his cards. A gun might be another thing but he felt no need to start wielding one now. He had to resort to other means, his familiars. Shadow materialized herself, as if on cue and put her large head against his leg, pushing softly.

Ah, he had not noticed how he was starting to lean just a bit more heavily on the cane, an ache returning to his knee, making the nerves tremble.

“If you excuse me, I have some reading to do.” He said, warmed by his familiar’s silent insistence. If he had an opportunity to rest, he should make use of it. Nico didn’t seem to notice his trembling, nor his familiar’s… caring behavior.

“Pff, sure. But the offer stands, ya hear? How about a cane that suits yer height?” Nico joked, walking past him as V sat down on the couch again.

“It’s not necessary.” A joke it might be, but V nevertheless felt a warm feeling in his chest over her insistence to try. Along with a slight… ache, wrapping around his heart and squeezing.

An ache that persisted when Nico suddenly dropped a blanket in his lap.

V looked up, letting just a bit of his confusion show on his face.

“What? Ya looked chilled, trembling like that.” Nico said with a shrug. “Ya gotta speak up sometime, I can’t read minds. Well, yet.”

How utterly terrifying it would be if you could. V thought.

“Thank you.” He said. “For the… insight of your genius, as well.” Nico grinned at him, obviously pleased.

“Ya might gonna have to pay for it next time!”

“Perhaps…” She made it sound so very… certain, it was tempting to get swept up in the enthusiasm. V’s smirk fell as she continued on to the dashboard, her back to him.

“Is that jackass gonna take forever?! I wanna see him put this to use! And give me the cash.” The last bit was barely audible as Nico grabbed for the phone to dial.

V smirked to himself. Yes, Nero would be able to put Nico’s latest, as well as future weapons to good use. The summoner gently scratched behind Shadow’s ear as the panther settled over his feet again. Slowly, he pulled the blanket around his shoulders and bare arms, his trembling might not be because of a chill, but Nico’s gesture still made him feel warm, more so than the soft fabric that smelled lightly of detergent. And with it, that ache inside just seemed to grow, to squeeze tighter but he tried to shove it aside. Nico’s energetic speech as she chewed out Nero on the phone made that feeling of tranquility settle over him again along with a will to just enjoy these moments, while they lasted. So V opened up his book again, to the same page he had left earlier, while she chatted away.

Just under the leather bands on his left wrist, a tiny crack in his skin peeked through.

#dmcweek2020 #dmcweek #weapon #devil may cry fanfiction #day 1 #devil may cry v #devil may cry nico #my writing #fluff #angst

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boushh2187 · 4 years

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Unexpected - RCIJ 2020

Title: Unexpected

By @boushh2187

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Rumbelle

Rumbelle Christmas in July 2020

Gift for @lotus0kid

Prompt: “I’m doing you a favor”

Word Count: 4053

Rated: PG

Author��s Note: I really hope you enjoy the story, lotus0kid, and that it makes you smile!

Summary: Storybrooke AU. Mr. Gold finds himself on an unexpected trip.

“When you think about it, I’m doing you a favor.”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Richard Gold looked up from his seat in Archibald Hopper’s office, his expensive three piece suit a bit wrinkled after all day wear. Dr. Hopper also wore a suit, though one that had seen better days. He looked slightly uncomfortable at being caught repeating the kind of words Gold often used, but only slightly. Perhaps, after a few long chats in this office over the years, Dr. Hopper felt as if they were friends. Gold wasn’t sure he’d go that far, even if Dr. Hopper knew more about Gold’s personal life than anyone in the town of Storybrooke, Maine. He had, after all, just threatened him with eviction for not having this month’s rent, but perhaps Dr. Hopper also knew that it was rather an idle threat. At least, due to the circumstances.

He looked across the room at Pongo. Dr. Hopper’s Dalmatian was resting on top of a comfortable looking blanket on top of his bed. The poor dog was recovering from surgery. His leg was wrapped up in a cast and he was drowsy from the procedure and the pain medicine. Gold had a soft spot for Pongo, and understood that Dr. Hopper had used the rent money and then some for this unexpected procedure.

“It’s the perfect solution,” Dr. Hopper continued, pushing up his glasses and sitting up straighter. I don’t have the money, due to Pongo’s surgery, but I do have this trip I was to go on, and now I need to stay with Pongo. You can go in my stead. It’s all expenses paid. I won it in a contest, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. I can make all of the changes with the company and you can even invite your son.” His smile reached his eyes, and the thought obviously made him happy. Dr. Hopper was one of very few people in this town that even knew he had a son, and how much Gold loved his son, and missed him.

Bae would probably enjoy it, and might be able to find a way to convince his mother to allow him to miss school. “That isn’t a bad idea. I haven’t seen him in months. It would be the perfect reason for his mother to allow him to go away with me.”

Archie brightened even more, if that was possible. “I told you! I really would be grateful if you would take this deal.”

Gold was amused. “I think you might be adapting some of my quirks.” This time, Dr. Hopper grinned and walked over to his small cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch. Gold nodded when Dr. Hopper nudged the bottle towards him as an offer. Adapting some of his quirks, indeed. Dr. Hopper poured them both a glass and they shared a moment of silence as they enjoyed the fine liquid. Gold put his glass down. “And I sincerely hope that Pongo mends swiftly. Call me with the details as soon as possible so that I can make arrangements with my son.”

“Will do!” Dr. Hopper was already rummaging through his papers to make the relevant calls. Hopefully, this will turn out to be a good way to reconnect with his teenage son.

*****

Mr. Gold boarded the plane looking more like he was going to a business meeting instead of a vacation. He had a shoulder bag that held his travel essentials, and he’d checked his other luggage. It took some effort to move through the narrow aisle of the plane with his bag and his cane. He resisted the temptation of blowing his hair out of his eyes. His hair was shoulder length, as he’d worn it since before Bae was born, except that now there were generous amounts of grey along his temples and sideburns. Where had the time gone? He would hopefully be meeting his fourteen year old son at the hotel. Fourteen! In the last picture his son had sent him, Bae looked like he’d grown a foot, and he had grown his hair out like his father, except there was much more curl to his son’s hair, unlike his. He’d taken from his mother in that regard. Gold really hoped that Milah would not resist allowing Bae to take this trip on his own to meet his father.

After what seemed like ages of waiting for people to place their carry ons in the overhead bins, Gold was finally at his seat. This plane had two seats on either side of the aisle. It was quite small, and he had wished he’d convinced the company that provided Dr. Hopper with this winning trip to allow him to upgrade to first class.

The window seat was already occupied, and he looked carefully at his ticket. He did indeed have the aisle seat, which on the one hand helped because he could stretch out his bad ankle if he really needed to, but on the other hand he might have to get up over and over again if he had an annoying neighbor. He took his seat, took the newspaper out of his bag, and placed his bag underneath the chair. He put his seatbelt on and settled in with the folded newspaper in his lap. It read: June 1st, 1983. At least he was able to get today’s paper at the airport.

“Good Morning, Mr. Gold.” He started, and turned in the direction of the voice. The Australian accent was unmistakable. He knew this person. She was from Storybrooke as well. The daughter of the local florist.

“Ms. French, I didn’t expect to see you here. Good Morning.” He was, in fact, quite taken aback. Truth be told she often took his breath away, especially when he ran into her unexpectedly in town. There were times when he knew he might see her: at Granny’s Diner for breakfast or lunch, at the library where she worked, at her father’s shop, or even in his shop, when she would stop by looking for rare books or tea sets. However, this was something else entirely. He’d never imagined running into here on a plane of all places, and looking as lovely as ever. She was dressed in bright yellow flower patterned sundress, and her sunglasses were perched on top of her head. Her brown hair fell in waves, covering her bare shoulders.

“Didn’t Archie tell you I’d be going on this trip too?”

“Oh no, he failed to mention that. I… I didn’t realize that the two of you were together.” The last bit somehow made it out of his mouth instead of staying in his thoughts.

“Oh, no… we aren’t.” She reached out and touched his hand, and he tried not to react in any way. “We were just going as friends, since I was there at Granny’s and encouraged him to enter the contest. It was for up to four guests. Ruby and Billy were going to come too, but it didn’t work out.”

“I see… well I’m probably not going to be as good company as your friends…”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. Gold. I always enjoy chatting with you.”

He managed to smile back at her. “I enjoy our talks as well, Ms. French.” She smiled back at him and leaned back in her chair.

“Archie mentioned that your son might be joining us?”

For a moment, Gold was angry with Dr. Hopper for mentioning his son, but Belle was so very sweet in how she inquired that he relaxed immediately.

“Yes, I’m hoping his mother will allow him to make the trip on his own. He’s fourteen now, and I think he can manage. I’m supposed to call them when we land and make sure he will be joining me.”

“Oh I’m sure he will come. He’ll enjoy visiting Disney World too! So many rides. This is my first time visiting, but I did go to DisneyLand once when I was his age. I loved it.”

They mostly spent the flight in companionable silence. She read her book and he read the paper, commenting on interesting things they read. As they left their seats to exit the plane, Belle reached up to retrieve her carry on. Gold thought for a moment, how best to help her with his bad leg hindering him. Before he could come up with a solution, a tall lad reached up and took her bag down for her. She thanked him politely and Gold allowed her to move ahead of him as they exited the plane. He tried not to glare at the young man behind him.

*****

They shared a cab to the hotel and stepped up to different desks to check in. Gold made sure to request an adjoining room for Bae who would be arriving in the early evening as per his ex-wife’s assurances. Belle and Gold parted ways after check in, with Belle heading up just ahead of him. When he arrived at his room, he set up his luggage and looked around. It wasn’t bad. They had set them up at the Contemporary, which was quite nice, and had easy access to the Magic Kingdom park. The rooms were higher end than Gold had expected from a trip that was not paid for by the guests. Gold’s room had two double beds and a balcony with a theme park view. The concierge assured him that they would have a wonderful view of the fireworks. Gold discovered the door to the adjoining room and decided to take a look at Bae’s room and make sure all was well before he arrived.

He opened the door and nearly fell back into his room. He had to steady himself with his cane. He hadn’t opened the door to an empty room, as he had expected. Instead, he had barged in on Belle, who was unpacking her luggage and laying out her clothes onto the bed. He had, unfortunately, arrived just in time to see her holding up her nightgown, which was practically see through, and definitely more suited for Florida heat than the cooler weather in Maine.

“I’m so… so sorry,” he stammered, as Belle stared at him with a mixture of surprise and what he thought was amusement. He felt flushed with embarrassment, and that never happened to him. She placed the nightgown on the bed, and put her hands on her hips. “I thought this was going to be empty. I had requested an adjoining room for my son…”

“It’s OK, I think I understand what happened.” Belle said, gently. “You need to remember that you and I are on the same vacation. You requested an adjoining room, but the trip was originally intended for a family vacation. One room for the adults, and the other for the kids.” She beckoned him inside. He took a few steps in, feeling very awkward, and hoping he didn’t show it at all. He normally didn’t betray his emotions, but with Belle, it was different.

Belle’s room had a large king sized bed, and the same balcony and view. “I see. So this must be the room they had intended for the adults, and I have...” he turned to indicate the open door to the other room.

“The kids room,” Belle chuckled. “Do you want this room? I don’t mind.”

“No, no. I’ll see if I can change things around. May, I?” he indicated the room’s telephone, and Belle nodded.

After a five minute long conversation with the concierge he gave up.

“No other rooms. Cheerleader convention.” That time, Belle laughed out loud, heartily

“Bae and I can share my room. It’s quite alright. We have two beds. I had hoped to give him his own room, but this will be fine…”

“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“Not at all. I’m sorry to have barged in this way. I hope you know that I didn’t intend to interrupt--” he indicated all of the clothes on the bed.

“I didn’t mind.” She smiled at him, somewhat flirty, though Gold was sure that was his imagination. He had imagined that kind of thing on more than one occasion in their past interactions, and he always immediately admonished himself. Belle was not someone that would be interested in him. She was a beautiful, kind, intelligent, PhD student, who could find someone much better suited for her. And someone closer to her age too. He was a good fifteen years her senior. He shouldn’t even entertain the thought.

*****

Belle was done changing into her comfortable clothes for the evening. She had decided to stay at the hotel and order in, perhaps watch the fireworks from the balcony, and then get an early start in the morning. She thought that she might ask Mr. Gold and his son if they wanted to visit the parks together, but she hadn’t decided on whether she would be intruding or not. The thing was that she was quite excited to have found herself in this situation. She had always had a bit of a crush on Mr. Gold, ever since she had arrived in Storybrooke after Grad School. It was over three years already, and while she’d had a couple of boyfriends, no one ever really kept her interest. Of course, she knew he was quite a few years older than her, but she never paid much attention to that sort of thing. She was a grown woman who could go out with whomever she wanted. She was getting ahead of herself. Even though she had a feeling that he returned her interest, she wasn’t certain. Still, seeing how he blushed earlier gave her a little bit of hope.

There was a knock at her door. Perhaps it was Mr. Gold calling? She opened the door and took a peek through the crack. It was a boy, a teenager, slightly taller than she was, with tousled brown hair. This had to be Bae! “Hello!” she greeted him.

“I’m sorry, I think I must have the wrong room.” He looked down at some wrinkled papers in his hand.

“You must be Bae!”

The boy looked surprised at first, but recovered quickly. “I like Neal better, actually. My parents just call me Bae. It’s a nickname.”

“For Baelfire, I know. It’s your middle name. Your dad told me. He’s going to be so happy to see you. He’s been looking forward to it so much.”

Neal looked like he was trying to process everything. He was still standing outside the room and he looked like he was trying to peer inside. “Is my dad staying with you?” he asked slowly, uncertainly.

Belle smiled at him and responded coyly, “Yes, and no. He’s next door. I’ll let him explain it to you.” She put her arm on his shoulder and led him toward Mr. Gold’s room. Neal knocked on the door and it was a moment before Gold appeared and smiled so broadly that Belle was certain she’d never seen him look so happy.

“Bae!”

Neal hugged his father tightly, “It’s Neal now, Papa. Remember?” He was smiling when he pulled away.

“I’ll let you two get reacquainted,” Belle said. “Have a good evening.”

“Nice meeting you… I”m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Oh forgive me! It’s Belle. Nice meeting you too, Neal.” She waved goodbye and went back to her room, feeling very happy for Mr. Gold.

*****

“So she isn’t your girlfriend?” Neal asked, for the second time. He was sprawled out on one of the double beds, clicking through the channels on the TV.

“Bae, I’ve already answered that question.” He looked up over the large map of the Magic Kingdom park that he was analyzing. He was determined that his son have a good time on this vacation.

“Are you sure, though?”

Gold folded the map in half and gave his son an exasperated look. “Of course I’m sure, Bae.”

“Well then, I’m pretty sure she wants to be your girlfriend.”

Gold sighed. This was getting a bit out of hand.

“She likes you, Dad. Mom says I have a 6th sense about these kinds of things. I always know who is going to end up dating at school before they do.” Neal sat up on the bed. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

“Of course, but that’s besides the point. She wouldn’t be interested in me, and that’s a fact.”

Neal laughed. “Trust me, Dad. She likes you.”

“Can we please change the subject?” Gold asked, wearily.

“Sure. I think we need to discuss something else. You aren’t going to go to the parks in a suit every day, are you?” Neal pointed at the suits hanging in the closet.

Gold suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He hadn’t considered that at all, but he had nothing else with him. “It’ll be fine, Bae.” He was trying to reassure himself, as much as Bae.

“No way, Dad. I’m going to get Belle to back me up on this one.” Before Gold could stop him, Neal was up out of bed and knocking on the door to the connecting room.

It took all of one minute for Belle to open the door curiously.

“Belle you have to tell my dad that he can’t wear his usual clothes to the parks. He’s going to melt.”

Belle laughed at the colorful expression. “I don’t think he’d melt exactly, but he’d probably be very uncomfortable. You don’t have anything more suitable for the hot weather and for all the walking?”

She directed the question to Gold, and he shook his head, lamely. She turned back to Neal. “You know what you have to do then,” she said, solemnly. “You have to take him shopping. There are many shops in this hotel, and they all will still be open. Why don’t you two go shopping and before you go we can decide on something for dinner. I’ll order it while you two are out, and by the time you get back the food will be here for you.”

Gold couldn’t deny that this sounded like a good idea, and it made him feel so very good to have Belle helping him navigate this situation.

*****

Over dinner it was decided that the three of them would go to the Magic Kingdom park together. Gold was dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Neal had tried to get him into a pair of shorts, but it wasn’t happening. It was going to look odd enough limping around with his silver tipped cane in that outfit. Not nearly as dignified as when wearing a suit. Both Belle and Bae wore tank tops, and shorts, and they slathered on the sunscreen. Belle made sure to give Gold some too, and she even rubbed some on the bridge of his nose before he could protest.

They spent the day together going on various rides. Gold was glad that Belle was with them. Occasionally, he would sit out on some of the rides and she would go with Bae. They went on Space Mountain, and the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad together. They all went on the Mad Tea Party ride, even though it made Gold a bit queasy. Pirates of the Carribean was amusing, and they were able to ride that one together. Both Belle and Bae grabbed onto him when the ride suddenly dropped in the dark. By the time they went on the Haunted Mansion ride, Neal had made some young friends from the cheerleader convention. Belle and Gold ended up alone in the same car, and Belle held onto his hand the entire time, alternating being thrilled, spooked, and fascinated by the ride.

By the evening the three of them functioned almost like a little family. That’s what it felt like to Gold, and he would be very sad when this trip was over and they went back to their regular lives. Neal had wanted them to stay in line for Peter Pan’s Flight, but Gold had asked to sit that one out. Belle offered to keep him company while Neal went with his newfound friends. It was getting close to the hour of the fireworks display and the park was emptying out in certain areas, as people gathered to watch the show. Many of the rides had shorter lines for that reason, so he hoped that Neal wouldn’t be too long and they would be able to find a spot to watch the fireworks show.

Belle led him to a bench near a running fountain. This section of the park was quieting down as the crowds moved towards Cinderella’s Castle. The sound of the fountain was soothing after the long day. They sat together for a bit, and Belle slipped her hand in his. It wasn’t the first time that day, or the second, or the third. Gold had been trying very hard not to read into it, but it was difficult not to. Belle had been very close to him all day. He also had been behaving in a more familiar manner with her. Something was changing, or perhaps it was something finally coming to light.

“Mr. Gold. I have a confession to make.”

Gold swallowed hard. “Oh?” He tried to sound more curious than nervous.

“I like you very much. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have liked you for a very long time.”

“I like you too, Ms. French. You’re very good company.”

“Please call me Belle. I’ve asked you before.”

“Yes, Belle. I’m sorry. Old habits…”

“You do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?” She took her hand and placed it on his cheek, making him face her.

“I do, I just don’t quite believe it.”

“I’ve enjoyed this day so much, haven’t you?”

He nodded.

“I want to have more days like this, where we get to spend time together, because I think you like me just as much as I like you.”

She was gently stroking his cheek. “Am I correct?”

He remembered Neal’s words from last night: “She likes you, Dad” and wondered if she’d overheard them. He had felt the connection between them all throughout this trip, but he refused to believe it. He wasn’t going to deny it anymore. “Belle French, I like you very much indeed.”

She sighed in relief, and smiled. “Mr. Gold, I’d like to kiss you now.”

“Under one condition,” he said, smiling. “You have to stop calling me Mr. Gold.”

“Deal,” she said, and leaned forward. He met her half way and they shared a sweet, gentle kiss. He pulled back, and gauged her reaction. She didn’t seem like she wanted him to move too far, and pulled him back for a deeper kiss.

“Dad! Come on we’re going to miss the… fireworks… show…” Neal stopped in front of them, out of breath from having run over from the ride nearby. His jaw hung open, and it took him a moment to recover. He clapped and pointed at his father. “I told you, Dad! I know about this stuff! Since you guys are busy, is it ok if I head over with my friends? I can meet you back here.”

“You can go on ahead, but not too far, we’ll be right behind you,” Belle said, and pulled Gold up from his seat. She linked her arm with his and they followed Neal as he met up with his friends just up the path.

“When we get back to Storybrooke, would you like to go to dinner with me?” Gold asked.

Belle chuckled. “Most definitely yes. Maybe we can have some fireworks in Storybrooke too,” she teased, and squeezed his arm.

Instead of being taken aback this time, he teased in return, “I think it is quite likely after that last display.” She leaned in closer, and the fireworks went off above the castle. The crowd around them cheered, and music played through the speakers around them. They walked arm in arm and found a spot near Neal and his new friends. They were pointing and marveling at the display. Belle leaned against him as they watched, and Gold had a sudden feeling of gratitude towards Dr. Hopper. He really did do him a big favor.

The End.

#lotus0kid #rumbelle christmas in july #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfic #rcij 2020 #my fics #my stuff #unexpected

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nerevarswritingstuff · 4 years

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Alla Prima Pt. 1 - Lucifer/Reader

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee!

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t honored to be gifted with the opportunity to paint a mural for the King of Hell himself. You were honored, beyond words in fact. You never expected him nor his family to have noticed you or your paintings. You knew there were plenty more out there that far surpassed your skills, but hey the pay is… well, “nice” would be understating it too much.

The pay was great. It’d let you buy a new studio, new supplies, new everything. You were allowed to stay within the mansion (which was also another understatement, this place was huge) in one of the guest wings, and given all the privacy and time required to finish. It was practically a dream come true, considering how previous clients would give you unrealistic deadlines for big pieces.

However, there was one problem. You wished it was just not having the right amount of paint for it or not enough time, but no. It was the worst possible scenario any painter or artist could ever have happen to them.

Lucifer gave you fuck all to go off of for what he wanted.

In your less than five minute conversation of him greeting you in the antechamber, all he said that he wanted was a mural of an apple tree in the ballroom. Then he had his servants show you where you were to paint it and where your guest room would be.

The vagueness of what he wanted for this commission made you want to break your brushes over your knee and give him a piece of your mind. “An apple tree mural” could be so many things! Did he want a landscape? In a specific style? Is it just one tree or an orchard? Is it in Hell or the living world? Night? Day? The list is endless. There was so little to go off of you had no idea where to fucking start.

Sure, you like a bit of artistic freedom, but not this much freedom. What if your client hated it and demanded a refund? Too many variables can lead to complications and you hate complications. Of course, you’ve always handled these types of clients easily enough, as some of their blood makes a wonderful mixture for paints.

But you couldn’t exactly deal with Lucifer the same way if he hated your painting. If anything he might just kill you. He could probably just kill you with his thumb. He most likely did do just that to some poor idiot once before. All you could do was bite your tongue and deal with it.

Oh, and that ballroom he wanted you to paint in? Huge. The wall itself was about sixty feet wide and thirty feet up before reaching the ceiling. This was probably the biggest ballroom he had, which only adds more sourness to your mood. The only extra thing Lucifer said he wanted was for the mural to be on the wall opposite of the entrance so guests would see it the minute they’d walk in.

You feel like you could choke someone right now. You’d love to choke Lucifer for being so unhelpful with what he wanted. Why are the demons who ask you to paint something big always so vague? But you knew better than to backsass Lucifer of all people. Again, he could most likely sneeze and you’d become nothing more than a smear on the wall.

You just had to think on the more positive side. You weren’t given a time limit and most importantly you’d have all the privacy needed. You hated people watching you paint. You hated people interrupting you while you paint. People who do usually get a paintbrush jammed into their eye. You’re glad you kept your composure when Lucifer told you you’d have any and all privacy needed for this painting, because you know otherwise you would’ve screamed with joy and relief.

So now here you were, everything set up for you to get ready for painting, sitting back in a chair, staring at this huge ass wall and rapidly tapping your pencil against your sketchbook.

You’ve tried several various sketches, exploring what you could do for a possible mural, only to growl in frustration and try again. And again. And a-fucking-gain. The cycle went for several hours. The entire time no one bothered you. No servants knocked on the door, no other guests or even the royal family. You kind of wish someone did interrupt you so you had someone to take your frustrations out on, but no one came.

Dropping your sketchbook and rubbing at your face, you lean back and groan. Unbeknownst to you, while you sat there, seething, thinking, staring at the wall and wondering just what the fuck you should paint, the door to the ballroom opened. The heels clicking behind you did make you whirl around, lips pulled back into a snarl.

“I thought it was made clear I wasn’t to be—” You choke on your own words, your threat dying in your throat as you stare at your client.

He wasn’t even looking at you, instead glancing down at the floor where you dropped your sketchbook, then looking up at the wall. Then his eyes dart to you, a single, dark brow raised. His lips curled up into a mischievous smile, asking, “Wasn’t to be what, hmm?” He twirls his cane in one hand, the other neatly folded behind his back. When you don’t say anything, he taps the end of his cane under your chin to close your mouth. “I’m waiting.”

You hesitantly say, “Disturbed…” It definitely didn’t sound as threatening as you wanted it to be.

Either way, Lucifer seemed to have found it absolutely hilarious, as he throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, my darling little fool!” He pats you on the head with the end of his cane. “You really think I’d leave you alone for the whole, oh—” he idly waves his free hand as he speaks, still tapping his fucking cane against your head “—however long it’s going to take you to finish this mural? Little Cripps, I know better than to allow a stranger to be all alone and unsupervised in this manor.” Another twirl of his cane and he’s walking past you, looking at the array of paints you’ve organized, then at the blank wall.

“I came here to see how things were going with the mural, but seeing as you haven’t even started…” He turns to you, raising a brow once more.

You rubbed your head, watching him all the while and frowning. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t your fault you had so little to go off of and didn’t know where to start. He should’ve specified exactly what he wanted. But instead you say through gritted teeth, “With big murals, I don’t immediately start painting. I plan them out. Today I’ll most likely be thinking and planning.”

It honestly might take you more than a day, considering how unhelpful Lucifer was wording his request.

Lucifer hums, strolling back over to you to pick up your sketchbook and starts flipping through it. You sputter, “Hey!” Before you could even think, you swiped it out of his hand, baring your teeth. “Don’t fucking touch my sketchbook!” You tuck it under your arm and jab a finger in his direction. “If you want to see the concepts I have, you fucking ask first. Do not touch my shit.”

Anger subsiding and realizing what you did and who you said all of that towards, you quickly back off, mind going a mile a minute as to how you can apologize. But before you could even spout out some pathetic apology, Lucifer started chuckling. “You really are as quick-tempered as I’ve heard.” He starts circling around you now, looking you up and down.

In your short time talking to him, he barely spared a glance at you, but now?

Now he was taking in every last detail, interest shining in his eyes—

Hold on a second.

“What?” You watch him circle around you, turning with him. “What are you on about?”

Lucifer stops right in front of you, smacking you on the head with his cane again. Something you were getting really tired of. “You don’t think I don’t know about some of my more interesting darling subjects? I’ve heard plenty about you, Little Cripps.” He takes a step back, taking his hat off briefly to brush of nonexistent dust. “Your paintings, your techniques, and of course, your temper. The latter I found the most amusing.”

You frown. King of Hell or no, you don’t really appreciate being fucked with like this. “You hired me just because I was amusing?”

“Oh, darling of course not!” Lucifer waves his hand. “I hired you because I’ve seen your pieces and found them quite extravagant. I don’t allow just any demon into my home to paint a mural, after all.” His eyes shined with impish glee. “Your amusing temper and attitude was just a bonus.”

You blink once. Twice. Thrice. Slowly it all starts to come to you. Why he was so vague, so unhelpful, and being such a dick right now. “Are you telling me… you gave me practically nothing to work off of and are acting this way… to get a reaction out of me?”

“Yes.” You weren’t expecting such a blunt reply from him, but you really should’ve. “I wanted to see for myself. You have a surprising amount of control, however.”

You clap your hands together, close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Your Majesty… were you anyone else… I would’ve stabbed you in the eyes by this point with my paint brushes…”

“It’s never too late to try,” Lucifer jeers.

“While most sinners have a final deathwish, I don’t.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan. “So are you actually going to be helpful and tell me what the fuck you want me to paint?”

“Little Cripps…” He goes to tap you on the head with his cane again but you grab it.

You lock eyes with him. “I will break this over my knee.”

His smile only grows. “You’ll only end up breaking your knee. But as I was saying…” He effortlessly pulls his cane free and twirls it, constantly almost hitting you in the face. “I did tell you what I wanted.”

You have to take another deep breath, constantly reminding yourself that even if Lucifer is amused by your outbursts, you’re positive he too has a limit to how much back talking he’s willing to take. “Your Majesty… ‘an apple tree mural’ is the vaguest request I’ve ever had in my long long years of being a painter. I need more to go off of.”

Lucifer hums, tossing his cane into the air and catching it in his other hand. “No.” Then he starts walking towards the door, the heels of his boots clicking on the door, not even turning to watch your mouth drop. “You’re a talented little thing. You’ll figure it out! I do hope you start painting soon. Enjoy the artistic freedom I’m granting you, as I don’t do this often!”

“You realize there’s such a thing as too much artistic freedom?” You retort just as he’s halfway out the door.

He tilts his head, thoughtful, humming. “True. But that makes it all the more fun and interesting, doesn’t it?” He smiles at you again, his entire face radiating with a quiet challenge. “I look forward to seeing your progress tomorrow, Little Cripps.”

And the door clicked shut.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #x reader #my writing #little cripps = cripps pink apple #they're known to be crunchy and a mix between tart and sweet #this was supposed to be for my friend #who loves lucifer #and i ended up writing way more than i meant to

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miss-sophies-sissymaid · 4 years

Text

Over the weeks and months Sophie’s control of James continued and he remained in chastity and at her beck and call, she stayed at the flat most weekends, initially telling her parents she was sleeping at friends houses but eventually things slipped out where she was actually speaking. Sophie’s mum was very concerned that Sophie was sleeping with James, and when she asked, Sophie just laughed and promised to show her the truth.

That very Friday after school, James picked Sophie up and drove her to the apartment, Sophie was in a playful mood and teased James mercilessly, suggesting that if he was exceptionally good that weekend he might be allowed an erection, that would be a real treat, the first time it would be unlocked in almost 6 months, but on the flip side if she wasn’t happy with him it would be her 16th birthday when he next got the chance again! he resolved to do exactly as his owner demanded that weekend, he wasn’t going to let this chance slip, he couldn’t wait another 18 months for a hard on! Surely she wouldn’t do that. Would she?

You know the rules loser, soon as we’re in the flat, your male clothes come off and after you’ve fetched me a drink you can put on your daisy dukes and crop top for starters. “Yes Miss Sophie” came the obedient reply. Up the stairs he ran to try beat the lift, arriving just as the doors opened and the gorgeous teen exited, he unlocked the door and opened it so she could walk in. Quickly he followed her inside and she leaned on the door preventing him from closing. “Chop chop faggot” she ordered and he was forced to strip right there in the open doorway, potentially in view of the neighbours. Quickly he removed his outer clothes and stood at attention, hands on head, wearing just a pink thong. She slammed the door shut and he kept out of his skin, sauntering into the lounge she clicked her fingers “heel” she commanded, faggot dropped to his knees and crawled after the perfect girl.

“Fetch me a beer and some crisps then you can get dressed loser” faggot crawled to the kitchen and collected the items swiftly returning to Sophie’s feet. Handing the refreshments over, he was dismissed with a wave. He went to his box room and dressed as instructed in the cut off denim shorts which revealed the bottom of his arse cheeks and his sparkly crop top. Miss Sophie reasoned that as men like James liked outfits like these, they should wear them too! So she often had him dressed in clothes designed for teenage girls, in fact his wardrobe consisted of tonnes of these things! From daisy dukes, to yoga pants to French maid uniforms and bikinis and finally the Pervert’s dream... a proper school uniform! She often had him in this when he was being punished. She was well aware of the looks she got in hers and how men wanted to spank her bottom, so got James one to match, only his skirt was shorter, much shorter than hers!

Faggot dressed as quickly as possible and returned to Sophie’s side, hands on head at attention waiting for her to acknowledge him, he waited, just waited. She was on the phone and he knew better than to interrupt her, stood where he was he couldn’t help but hear the conversation, or at least half of it! His stomach dropped with what he heard

“You must come over and see the flat. Yes. Of course. No it’s no problem. Yes. We can have a few drinks. Of course he will. No he won’t. James can cook us something nice to eat. Yes I’m sure. Great. We’ll pick you up at 6.” Just then she put the phone down.

She turned to James and inspected her property running her hands over his smooth skin, her touch made his cock twitch “hmmmm you feel so good all smooth, aren’t you a good little faggot, a good loser for me” she teased knowing what she did to him.

“Thank you Miss Sophie” he replied

“Right loser, you heard part of that phone call, we’re having mum over tonight, she’s worried that you’re fucking me, I told her nothing was further from the truth but she needs to see for herself how we live. I want you on your best behaviour tonight, don’t you dare show me up faggot.” Sophie revealed to James “just to remind you of what might happen in going to give you a quick punishment session, just to get you in the right frame of mind” faggot trembled, he hated the punishment sessions Sophie delivered, he was a wimp and his eyes pleaded for mercy, but none was forthcoming.

“Quickly loser get changed into your school uniform I want you back here with my hairbrush, slipper and cane .... you’ve got 3 minutes.... GO” she ordered, starting the stopwatch on her iPhone 11.

He dashed to the box room and stripped out of his outfit folding it neatly. Retrieving the white knee socks he pulled them up his legs and checked that they were level, training bra next, that was white cotton with teddy bears on and the matching knickers. Next freshly ironed white blouse and blue and gold striped tie, lastly his very short navy blue pinafore dress and navy blue gym knickers. Checking himself in the mirror he looked very smart but very foolish. He took the punishment tools from the hanger on the back of his bedroom door, where they lived all the time when not in use and returned to the lounge, just as the timer beeped. Phew he thought... just in time.

“Well done faggot” Sophie praised him “ don’t you look pretty? I think I could make some good money out of that sissy body of yours” sh chuckled “you make a sexy schoolgirl I reckon there’s loads of pervs like you who’d love to cane and fuck you.... “ she left the threat hanging there. Patting her knee, “come on then girlie, let’s get this started”

“Pweese mith Sophie pweese will you take down twis naughty gwils pwanties down and spwank her bottom pweese” he lisped to her.

“Of course I will, if that’s what you really want and need” and he nodded with tears in his eyes....she dragged the knickers down and he obediently laid across her lap. She rubbed his bottom gently before unleashing a volley of hard smacks with her hand, she hit so hard! He kicked his feet she chuckled to herself. God he’s a wimp she thought.20 blows in and he was crying away! There was moisture everywhere, tears on the floor under his head and juice in her knickers. She was soaking wet! God she loved life!!

“Having fun” she asked not needing an answer “well I am” she laughed.... “5 more and I’ll have a go with the slipper.” She laid on 5 more extra hard strokes and moved on to the plimsole, laying 12 hard slaps on each cheek. He was a mess, tears streaming down his face and now snot too, he was openly blubbing and she was close to cumming.

She pushed him off her lap “fetch me another beer boy and be quick” he gingerly stood and bent to pull his knickers up “leave them where they are, we haven’t finished yet” Sophie instructed. His stomach sunk again and scurried to the fridge, oh how he wished he could rub the cold beer bottle on his red hot butt.

“Lick that mess up off the floor and then while I’m having my drink you practice your deep throating on the 10 inch black cock.... how well you do that will decide how harsh round 2 goes”

He licked the snot and tears up, showing Sophie his mouth full before swallowing the load. He fetched the cock and knelt in front of Sophie, he so wanted to make her proud, he’d spent the last week practicing at every opportunity and could nearly take the whole thing. He was determined to do it today.... Sophie had told him she expected him to take a 12 inch cock eventually, when he could do that, she would find him real cocks to suck for her.

He worked the cock in and out, worshipping the tool. He got 6,7,8 inches in and held. He forced himself down further 9 ... nearly there, he held himself down 5, 10 seconds. Up and back down all the way this time. “Hold it” she said “30 seconds 29,28,27,26” his eyes watered “20,19,18,17... good boy... keep it there” the praise spurred him on “look at me, eye contact is important when cock sucking faggot” he looked at her, she was happy, pleased with him “ 3,2,1 well done faggot” his heart leapt, she was pleased!

“After that show, i need to get you a bigger cock and you can soon start earning me some money.... you pleased me there so I’m not going to hairbrush your arse, and I’ll only give you 6 with the cane.... for now. Quick now, bend over the chair arse up legs straight”

He jumped into position and waited for her, she run her hand over his warm butt “this is hot faggot, I bet it’s quite sore isn’t it?” She said rhetorically “still it’ll be a but sorer soon! Maybe even worse by the time the nights over” she threatened. She quickly laid her first stroke on “hmmmmmmm” he cried and his legs went “keep them legs straight, I’d hate to have to start over” he resolved to stay in position for the last 5 quickly delivering the remainder one after the other. He sobbed again he hated the cane but she loved it.

“Put your toys back on the hook for now, we might need them later though, fetch my toy from the Master bedroom tuck your skirt up so I can see my handiwork and get in the corner.”

He dashed around the flat, knickers still around his ankles hanging the punishment tools up and fetching Miss Sophie’s small vibrator, he handed the device over and returned to the corner nose pressed to the wall arse on display.

The only noise in the flat was the gentle buzz of James’s owners toy and her quiet moans he could smell her juices and was pleased that somehow he had turned the beautiful girl on. She brought herself off to a mind blowing orgasm and relaxed for a few minutes, gently playing with her nipples with the toy.

She walked to the corner and rubbed her finger across his top lip, leaving her scent for him to enjoy. She scratched her nails across his welted bottom delighting in his pain.

Leaving him in place “stay” was the simple command. Returning 5 minutes later “I’m going for a shower, once you hear the water running you can leave the corner.... pick up my clothes, tidy up, then I’ve laid some clothes on your bed for you to wear”

Yes Miss Sophie he replied.

5 minutes later he heard the shower and Sophie sexy voice singing away, swiftly he got to his tasks tidying up and stripping out of his school uniform putting everything in the wash. He dressed in his outfit of 6 inch butt plug pink thong, yoga pants, training bra, belly top and black tracksuit top with pick stripes on the sleeve.

Sophie dressed in her tight jeans and crop top and surprisingly didn’t leave the bathroom a tip.

It was now time to go pick up their guest. As usual Sophie rode in the lift and faggot ran down the stairs. He opened the car door for his delightful owner and they drove to her mums house. On the way there she gave him his instructions “ when we get to mums you will open the car door for her, you will address her as mummy dearest, you will do WHATEVER I say instantly or I swear to god I’ll break the cane on your balls, do you hear me faggot” she threatened him.

Yes Miss Sophie I’ll be on my very best behaviour for you and mummy dearest, I won’t let you down Miss Sophie he promised

“Make sure you don’t or you’ll regret it” leaving the threat hanging there.

Pulling up outside the home, faggot stepped out of the car and opened the rear door, allowing mummy dearest to step inside. The drive down to the apartment was quiet and the atmosphere frosty, Sophie’s mum didn’t think that James was fucking Sophie and had thought of informing the police, it was only Sophie intervention and promise to reveal all that stopped her.

James parked the car and opened the doors for the 2 females, calling the lift and dashing up the stairs to meet it at the other end, just in time he opened the flat, allowing both ladies inside.

“Fetch me a beer and mum a glass of wine and be quick about it” Sophie instructed and he quickly obeyed, Sophie’s mum looking quizzically. They sat on the sofa and he returned with the drinks and a few nibbles on a tray holding it out for the ladies to take. Sophie said “put them down on the table there” pointing at the small coffee table “go to your room and wait for us there, we’ll be there in a while when I’ve had a chat with mum” She looked at him to answer her correctly and the words fell out of his mouth “yes Miss Sophie” he slid out of the lounge and into his box room. Stripping out of his clothes and dressing in the French maids uniform Sophie had left out for him, he took the 5p coin from his bedside table and retired to the corned, nose holding the coin, hands on head. Waiting, just waiting.

Meanwhile Sophie explained the situation to her mum, who was aghast and still didn’t cruelty believe, back in the box room the little maid could hear the girls talking, giggling, then he heard them get up for the tour of the flat.

Sophie took her mum to her master bedroom and explained that faggot was only allowed in here for cleaning duties and never to sleep in the bed, whether Sophie was here or not. Then she showed mum the guest room, where some of Sophie’s friends had stayed over... often they’d share Sophie’s bed, but it was thee just in case, finally he heard the handle lower on his bedroom door and Sophie pushed the door open, faggot remained in position perfectly still, she leg mum into the room closing the door behind. Mum spotted the punishment tools on the back of the door and faggot in the maid uniform. “What the actual fuck Sophie” .... “see I told you mum, James is my slave, he does what I tell him and I punish him.... you should have done this to dad!” The ladies sat on faggots bed, Sophie clicked her fingers, “here boy” the loser lowered his hands, collecting the coin and turned to face his owner. He bobbed a neat curtesy and minced to his betters. Sophie was pointing at her foot, so gracefully he sunk to his knees and kissed her toes, all 10 of them. Looking up Sophie was nodding and he knew what was expected “excuse me mummy dearest but it would please me greatly if you’d allow this loser to worship your feet” he begged.

Mummy thought about this then replied “okay you fucking loser, let’s see what’s this is all about” he spent the next 15 minutes lavishing love on those 30 year old feet.

“Up” commanded Sophie and faggot rose to his feet “display” she ordered, he lifted the hem of his petticoats and dress to reveal the chastity belt “see mum he can’t fuck me even if I wanted” mummy was curious about the keys whereabouts and Sophie explained, she was still unhappy about the situation, but eventually relented and agreed not to let the police know, and that the relationship could continue, but only on a few conditions. Which she’d explain later.

“Turn” commanded Sophie, and he displayed he plugged arse and well punished bottom to mummy dearest she played with the stripes causing him to jump in pain.

Sophie stood up and with her mum following left the room, she clicked again “heel boy” and the loser scampered behind his beautiful owner.

He was instructed to fetch more drinks and then shut himself in the kitchen and cook mummy dearest her favourite meal. The menu was onion bhajis, meat samosas, popadoms, chicken balti, naan bread served with rice. All freshly cooked and served by the loser. He stood at attention whilst the two ladies relaxed, chatted and ate. The meal was delicious and there was hardly any scraps left on the plates. “Make coffee, clear up and then we’ll have a fashion show missy” decided Sophie. Faggot curtsied and quickly got about its task, serving the superiors freshly ground coffee. He spoke “ excuse me mummy dearest, but how do you like your coffee?”

“I like it like my men faggot.... hot and strong!” Both females chuckling, faggot bobbed another curtesy and poured the drinks.

After washing the pots and tidying the kitchen faggot stood at attention between the ladies Sophie skid her hand up his short dress and felt his welted bottom, causing him pain and his clitty to twitch, mummy dearest noticed and did the same, flicking the front up and saw his clit dribbling precum....she caught it with her finger and offered it to his mouth, he gratefully sucked her finger clean.

“You know faggot if you will insist on dressing in such sexy clothes you’d better get used to being felt up” Sophie said, patting his bottom... “run along now and start our fashion show”

faggot spent the next hour changing from outfit to outfit showing himself off to his betters. Starting with a little girls party dress, gymnast, skater chick, lap dancer, secretary, cheerleader, tutu, air hostess, PE kit (Sophie’s old one) and finally school uniform.

Sophie’s mum had a great evening but was still very sceptical...

“Strip to just your underwear boy and you can serve as a footrest while we have a chat” mummy ordered.

He curtesied and obeyed stripping to the white cotton panties, white vest and knee length white socks, position himself in front of the sofa for the ladies feet.

They sauntered over plopping themselves down on the sofa and flopped their legs on his back. Sophie curled her left foot “kiss” she ordered and he worshipped like his life depended on it. He was turned around so he could worship mummy’s feet.

They chatted and Sophie eventually persuaded mummy to let this continue, reasoning that she could be out at the park on a weekend with her mates getting pregnant instead she was being treated like royalty and wouldn’t ever need to work! James was loaded and had his own successful business.

There were conditions of course :-

1, mummy could borrow loser for a couple of evenings a week to do her housework (and anything else she wanted)

2, mummy would supervise Sophie releasing faggots chastity belt.

3, mummy would be employed at James company.

She said there may be more in the future but that would do for now!

Sophie and James were delighted he kissed and kissed her feet slobbering all over her Sophie hugged her mum.

The weeks went by with faggot staying locked, his Male underwear long gone, mummy dearest now office manager at his security company, she’d inspect his underwear choice every morning at work, and as he was constantly leaking insisted he wore a condom over the chastity belt and a sanitary towel in his knickers... these knickers were always the cast offs of his owner Sophie or mummy dearest.

He’d spend every Monday and Thursday evenings at mummy dearests home doing the cleaning, washing, ironing etc. At work mummy would often have him run errands like taking dry cleaning, taking the car to be washed, fetching coffees etc.

That weekend it was his birthday, he’d be 34, both girls knew this but didn’t let on... Friday he picked Sophie up from school and she insisted on going to Meadowhall shopping centre for an hour or so. They entered the main mall and Sophie went to town buying herself new clothes on his credit card, him following obediently behind carrying the bags stepping forward to pay. She really enjoyed herself especially choosing bikinis and underwear asking him if he thought she’d look good in them! She bought a tiny white bikini, it was literally 3 triangles on a piece of string. How he’d love to see her in that, alas a new rule prevented him from looking above her ankles when she was dressed sexy. His cock leaked some more precum as he imagined her perfect, beautiful, tight body in it. She noticed and laughed “go change your condom” she whispered to him. He quickly returned and offered the used one to her, she took it and poured the contents into his mouth “swallow” he complied and she thrust the used rubber in his mouth, “suck it clean boy” humiliated as he was he obeyed the teen and sucked his jizz out of the rubber.

She was so hot and wet at her dominance she could hardly wait to get home and play with her pussy!

Walking in the main mall, she suddenly decided to sit down on one of the benches, “James, be a dear and tie my shoelace please” she asked, he knelt down right there in the busy mall, and retied her beautiful white trainer. “And the other one” she said sweetly, he obeyed ..... “right, I want you to place a kiss on my toe” he hesitated, he couldn’t do that in the mall could he? “I haven’t forgotten whose birthday it is this weekend, I’d have to have to cancel your gift” he gulped, knowing she was talking about his erection, that was his present from Sophie, his cage was getting unlocked. “I’d hate to postpone it for a year I was so looking forward to tonight” she teased “ I might even wear the new bikini for you” he bent and quickly pressed his lips to her right foot “that’s wasn’t much of a kiss, try harder on my left foot now” he belt again, this time she raised her right foot and pressed it on the back of his neck “stay” she commanded, a little too loud, and people turned around laughing, giggling, snapping pictures. She held him in place for what felt like an hour but in reality was no more than 15 - 20 seconds. Eventually she released him “up” she commanded and walked away, he followed behind, her skirt swishing sexily as she walked to the exit. He dashed behind in abject humiliation, carrying the 7 shopping bags, hoping to reach the door before her so he could open it.

Back in the car he began to sob in humiliation and she cuddled him, kissing him on the cheek, “awww I’m sorry baby” she said “but you’ve made me so horny in there, you’ve never made a girl as wet as that in your life before!” She put her head in his lap and nuzzled his chastised cock, “is your little clitty getting a treat tonight?” She asked sexily....

On the drive home she teased his nipples and his clitty, offering him hope for tonight, she was going to get him off, that would be his best ever birthday present! Well until the day he could sleep with her! “When we get home, you’re to sprint up the stairs with the shopping, if you beat me up in the lift you’ll get your treat, if not well you’ll have to learn to run a bit faster in the next 12 months” she was wet at the thought of denying him for another year, but no she wanted this to go to plan. They parked up and she got out walking to the lift “come and call the lift for me faggot” he called the lift and returned to the car for the shopping racing up the stairs, knowing it was nearly impossible, Sophie on the other hand had stopped on the 2nd and 4th floor so he’d win.

He stood there, red, out of breath on the doorstep waiting his owner. She ambled over standing on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, “well done pussy boy, you’ve earned your present. Open the door then strip naked before you come in MY home, take my clothes to my bedroom, unpack and hang them up .... you know the rules, kiss the bottom of and panties or trousers before they get put away, then go to your room and follow the instructions in there.”

He quickly curtsied and began to strip, she closed the door and went to the lounge, naked, he tried the door, it was locked. He rang the bell “who is it?” The sexy girl replied “please Miss Sophie it’s your faggot” .... “wont be a minute” she made him wait a couple of minutes naked there on his doorstep! Opening the door she held her hand up stopping him, “yes faggot what would you like” she asked, “please Miss Sophie, may faggot bring your clothes shopping in and put it in your wardrobe please?” He begged “okay” she said “but whenever you enter MY home you will kiss my shoes before you pass the door mat, so right there he dropped to his knees and worshipped her trainers. She ushered him in and closed the door, slapping his arse, “hurry up loser I want to get this over with”

He quickly complied with his task enjoying kissing the underwear, knowing that very soon it would be touching her delightful bottom, imagining him kissing those perfect cheeks. He was so horny at what she did to him in the shopping centre, he thought he’d blow his load right there and then.

Returning to his room, the instructions were there, cuff your legs and right hand to the bed and wait for me.... I’ll do the left hand when I get there. He knew his time was coming! 9 months without a hard on and now Sophie would be giving him the best present ever! He lay there for about 30 minutes or so whilst Sophie watched TV and chatted on the phone. She poked her head around the door “won’t be long now lover boy” she teased closing the door again. She returned a good 20 minutes later, wearing the white bikini, his eyes popped out of his head and quickly averted his eyes, “awww baby, you can look today, it’s your birthday” he stared at her amazing body my god she was hot, he was in love .... she peaked off his condom and poured the contents in his mouth “hmmm you’ve been a busy sissy, look how wet you are girlie” he swallowed the load, she swished out of the room, he stared at her arse, it was amazing, returning with a tray she placed it down on the bedside table. She pulled back the towel just enough so he couldn’t see the contents.... grabbing the ice from the bowl she dropped it onto his crotch, shrivelling the clitty down some more. “Need to get the little guy to a smaller size, before we unlock him sissy” she pulled the key from her necklace and unlocked the padlock. Standing up, she teased “well that’s you unlocked, will that do for this year faggot?”

Aww please Miss Sophie don’t leave me like that, he begged and begged her, she backed up towards him and offered her bottom to him, just out of reach... “kiss my arse loser” he strained as far as the cuffs would allow just reaching her bottom, he planted reverent kisses to it, she was really enjoying herself now. “Okay faggot, you’re 31 years old today so that means you get 31 seconds out of your cage then it’s straight back in whether you cum or not! And don’t forget next year you get another second a full 32, up until your 35th birthday but then it’s downhill from then on .... cumming is a young mans game, it’s not good for your heart so every year after you lose 7 seconds, so on your 36th birthday it’s 28 seconds 37th 21, 38th 14, 39th 7 and it’s all over with before you’re 40.” He continued to worship her behind as she explained his future “don’t worry though, you’ll be trained to cum from being fucked in the arse” she added.

She pointed at the corner of the room and he spotted the camera, “mum is supervising you, like she said she would faggot, she’s had cameras put in all over the flat to keep an eye on you”

Sophie set up the timer on her phone for 34 seconds and released the cage, his limp clitty flopped out and she held the cock loosely, “well hump my hand loser” she said she started the timer and he jumped away for a few seconds, just then Sophie received a text, she removed her hand and replied to the text, “keep humping faggot” he humped away at fresh air, no friction to get him off “it’s Jordan, she wants to know if she can come over later.... that’s okay isn’t it?” Sophie watched as he continued to thrust his cock up and down .... “beeep beeep beeeep the noise came from her phone “awww too bad sissy, you’re times up... I’d have thought you’d be able to cum in my presence in that time faggot” she teased. She iced his clitty back down, “time to get this back in its cage, well try again in another year loser” he cried and begged and begged, it wasn’t fair, she’d only touched him for 5 seconds, please could they try again without interruption. She laughed at him crying “awww my poor sissy, okay, I’ll let you have another go, but I want you to start me a trust fund up paying £2500 a month and give me 10% of your business” he agreed immediately. A high price for another 34 seconds of her hand. She played with his cock like an expert teasing him and making him cum in 33 seconds, she caught the load on a condom and made him eat it all. Quickly icing him down and refitting the belt. She uncuffed him and he followed her to the lounge, she teased his balls to make his clitty excited again.... only then did he realise, she’d used a smaller cage and fitted it with spikes. He was in agony! “Hope you like your new cage faggot, that’s what you’re wearing for the next year, until we get you a smaller one.

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cubeishorse · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Gift

It’s time for the holiday gift exchange and Martin pulled Jon’s name from the box. He has to find the perfect gift.

Contains: General jon/martin fluff, holiday party, just fluff and fun for the holidays

1,716 words

“Oh no.” Martin sat at his desk, still looking at the piece of paper he had pulled out of the box. It had been over twenty minutes since they pulled names for the holiday gift exchange, and the name hadn’t changed.

“Are you ever going to stop moaning over it?” Tim glanced over from his computer. “I’m not that hard to shop for. You’ll be fine.”

“Very funny.” Martin said, shaking his head and putting the paper in his pocket. “I got Jon.”

Tim stared at him. “And that’s… a bad thing? I figured you’d jump at the chance to give him something.”

“It’s not that it’s… what do I get him? It has to be perfect.” Martin buried his face in his hands. “Help me, Tim. Aren’t you good at this sort of thing?”

“Not really, but I got off easy this time.”

“Sasha?”

“Elias. A tie. Perfect.” Tim spun a little in his chair. “Can’t help you out with boss man, though. You’re going to have to talk to him, mate.”

“Mhm…” Martin looked back at the door to Jon’s office, which was, as always, closed. Jon complained that they chatted too much, and it distracted him from his research.

“Maybe ask him if he wants to have lunch together?” Tim turned back to his computer, deciding it was time to pretend to work again. He didn’t have an active case to research. “We used to all go out before he became the boss, and you had just as much of a crush then. Can’t be that hard.”

“Mhm.” Martin sighed, turning back to his own work. “Maybe. Do you think he’d say yes?”

“Never know until you ask.” Tim was already checking out of the conversation, searching online for what looked like very garish ties.

It still took almost an hour for Martin to convince himself to ask, and almost a minute of standing in front of Jon’s door to knock, but he was greeted almost instantly with, “Come in.”

Jon had a few small piles of paper spread across the desk in front of him, and he was focused on his laptop. A recorder sat on one edge, silent. Jon looked up. “Martin? Did you need something?”

“Oh. Hello, Jon. I…” Martin swore he could feel Tim watching him, could practically see the smile on his coworker’s face. “Lunch. Do you want to get lunch?”

“Lunch?” He sat up a bit more, looking at his desk. “I… don’t have food…”

“… why not?”

Jon stared at his desk for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose I forgot. But we could go to the café? I recall it having good options.”

“Where we all used to go? I haven’t been there in ages. I’d love to.”

“It’s a date.” Jon said, clearly not even realizing his words. Martin felt a blush. “Give me twenty minutes to get this all put away? I’ll come and get you when I’m ready.”

“Alright. Can’t wait.” Martin was smiling wide as he pulled Jon’s door shut behind him. Tim was indeed watching him.

“Good work, Romeo.”

“Shut up.” Martin buried his face in his hands, still blushing. “Just shut up.”

The walk to the café was relatively quiet. Jon had never been the best at small talk, and Martin was too nervous to bring anything up. Thankfully, it was a short trip, so they did their best to enjoy the silence as they went. They got a nice seat by the window, and because of the strange time, they had almost the whole café to themselves, which was fine by them both.

“Thank you for the invitation, Martin. I feel like you’re all so afraid of me now that I’m head archivist.” Jon was fiddling with the menu a bit.

“Oh yeah. No problem.” Martin watched Jon for a moment. “I think everyone is intimidated now? You know, since you’re our boss and all.”

“I’m not Elias.” He replied, disdain in his voice. “We can still chat. Hang out.”

“Hang out?”

Jon stared at him. “Yes.”

Martin couldn’t help but laugh. Jon using any sort of slang seemed out of place. “Any holiday plans?”

“No, nothing really. I never do a lot for the holidays, aside from attending the institute party.”

“That’s… that’s so sad! Nothing? No big dinner or gift giving?”

He shrugged a little, glancing out the window. “I don’t have family living anymore, and I have grown distant from friends. Are you surprised that I’m not the most popular?”

“I…” Martin paused, thinking over his words. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Jon waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’ve grown quite used to it. I’ll probably watch old Christmas movies, make myself something nicer for dinner. It might be lonely, but it is doing what I enjoy. How about yourself?”

“The research team is having a party that I’ll probably go to for a bit. My mum doesn’t like when I stay out too late – I have to take care of her, you know – so after the party, I’ll put together some sort of dinner for the two of us. Probably watch something cheesy after she’s gone to bed.” The waiter interrupted them, taking down their orders. Martin noted that Jon only ordered a cup of soup, and tried to decide if he looked any thinner.

“How have you all been doing with the change? I miss our chats.” Jon seemed genuinely interested in an answer.

Martin filled him in on their lives since Jon’s promotion. He told Jon about the fish incident in the break room, about how Robin in HR wouldn’t talk to Jen in Research for a week because of it. Jon seemed shocked that Sasha and Tim were dating. Jon couldn’t remember who Alex in Accounting was, but the story of him quitting and telling Elias off was still pretty funny.

As their lunch wound down, Martin was pleased to see that Jon had eaten his soup, along with half of Martin’s fries. What had started off as nerve wracking for Martin had turned into a fun conversation, something akin of the olden days.

“Do you still write poetry?” Jon asked, apropos of nothing. It took Martin completely by surprise.

“Oh. Uh. Yes? Not as much anymore, but I still try to. It helps me unwind.” Martin looked down at his mostly empty plate.

“Maybe someday you will let me read some.” Jon was leaning back, seeming to the world to be completely comfortable. “I will say, I have never found a poet I cared much for. If you wanted to, I would like your help with that. Finding a poet to enjoy, that is.”

And just like that, Martin had an idea. “Absolutely.”

Jon fidgeted in his holiday sweater. Four shops, and he hadn’t been able to find one that wasn’t at least a little itchy. He had a cup of cheap prosecco in one hand, mostly forgotten. It seemed like everyone else was having a great time, chatting and laughing, but Jon just felt out of place. The holiday party was always a bit of an awkward time for him.

“Jon?” Martin piped up from behind him. “You having fun?”

“Hm? Oh. Of course. Just feeling a bit out of place, I suppose. How does Elias even look like he’s enjoying himself?” Jon gestured over to where Elias was laughing with some of the other researchers, his new tie loosely tied around his neck. It was bright green with bright red and white candy canes adorning it.

“Um.” Martin gestured to a small gift bag in his hand. “I know it’s supposed to be… well. Secret. But I wanted to give you your gift?”

“You got me?” Jon let his gaze drift to the bag, curious. He set the prosecco down behind him, a bit thankful to not have to pretend to enjoy it anymore.

“Yes.” Martin kind of held it up. “I hope… I hope you like it.”

Jon took it, a faint smile on his lips. “I got Tim.”

The bluntness of the statement made Martin laugh. “It’s a secret, Jon!”

“I know, but…”

He drifted off as Tim yelled out, “Who in the hell got me coal?”

“I thought you might want to be in on that.” Jon said, laughing. Martin stared at Tim.

“You got him coal?” He couldn’t help but grin, giving away to laughter a second later.

“There’s a gift card to the coffee shop in there as well. But I did have to tease him somehow.” Jon gently took the bag away from Martin, his fingers lingering on Martin’s hand just a moment longer. “Do you want me to open this now?”

The blush that crept across Martin’s face was instantaneous. “Oh. Uh. You… you don’t have to… if you want to. You can wait. I… it’s…”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Sure? Yes. Sure.” Martin’s hand was still up in the air a little, empty.

Jon tucked the bit of tissue paper to one side to reveal a journal, with what looked and felt like actual leather. He tilted his head to one side, trying to make sense of it. Setting the bag on the drinks table, he unwound the strap that held the notebook shut, flipping through the pages. A careful cursive covered the majority of them.

“Martin.”

“You said you… you said you wanted to read some poetry. I found some of my… well, some of my favorite poems from my favorite writers, and I copied them down. It isn’t the best – my cursive has always been a bit rubbish – but I thought the nice book might help it look a little fancier and… um. At the end of the book are some of mine. I wrote who wrote what poems, and the titles. In case you wanted to find more.”

It was the front of the book that caught Jon’s eye, and he knew Martin was blushing even brighter.

Happy Holidays, Jon.

I hope you enjoy these.

Love, Martin

Love. Jon smirked.

“It’s beautiful, Martin. Thank you.” He leaned forward, having to tilt his head up just slightly to reach, and pecked a gentle kiss just to the side of Martin’s lips. “I do hope we can have lunch together again. I’d love it.”

#i am tired and haven't edited this much so be gentle with me?#jonmartin #just a fluff fic #jonathan archivist #martin blackwood #the magnus archives #tma fic

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fullmetaldevil-blog · 4 years

Text

Batim Stitched Au short: Holiday Hiccup

Merry Christmas everyone as I give you all a little holiday short (yes a legit short this time)

I hope you all enjoy and have a Merry Christmas and Happy holidays with your families and friends.

On with the show~!

The holiday season was upon the Connor residence faster then the couple had time to prepare for. Linda was heaven sent as she kept Benny busy for them, the Elementary school teacher asked if Benny could assist her in preparing her students for their winter production alongside Bendy. Both toons were nervous about helping her out at the school and being around so many students but the woman reassured them that they would be fine. The two toons were instrumental in helping the students learn how to sing and dance for their holiday show. The two toons were shy at first but once they became more acquainted with the students and were in charge of their respective talents, they became more confident and took center stage giving Linda a much needed break.

The school day had come to a close as Linda drove the little plushtoon home. Benny was eagerly going over the music that was chosen by the class as he had already begun to teach the children how to sing the different scales before they would begin to sing the actual songs. He hoped that when he got home and if Allison wasn’t busy, that she could help him with his musical homework so he could better teach the students being left in his care.

The vehicle came to a stop and LInda prepared to exit to walk Benny to the door when the toon lightly laid his hand on her arm. “I’m fine. You’re tired and still have to drive home.” he smiled at her. “I can let myself in.”

A tired appreciative smile crossed Linda’s face. “Thank you. Tell Allison I said ‘hi’. '' She brought Benny into a one arm hug.

“I will!” the toon happily chirped before waving goodbye to Bendy and closed the door behind himself.

Benny trotted to the doorway which was already decorated with red and white garland making the pillars look like giant candy canes while a large red leafed wreath laid upon the door. He couldn’t quite remember the name of the red leaved plant as Allison had gotten a good number of them and planted them along the driveway leading to the house. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the bright red item as pinecones that smelt of cinnamon were laced with them giving the entryway a very pleasant aroma. Benny lifted his shirt and opened up his hammerspace pulling out his house keys quietly letting himself inside.

The toon was immediately greeted with a warm home full of smells of spices mixed in with sweets as they clashed with each other, yet they worked in harmony. He couldn’t wait to taste whatever Allison was preparing, the thought encouraged him to put his little backpack away in his room before heading into the kitchen.

Allison happily hummed while she folded the dough she had rolled onto the table before slicing it into ribbons. She lifted each ribbon and carefully weaved them over her apple pie she had prepared before hearing little tapping of shoes entering the kitchen. “Welcome home Benny. How was school with the kids today?”

Benny grabbed onto a chair pulling it out before hopping up on top giving his mom his undivided attention. “It went well! I had them all learning how to sing the scales before we would begin to sing the actual songs. Linda gave me their sheet music so I can better learn the songs to help them.” he beamed at her.

“That’s good. I bet it’s fun singing with the kids. I’m sure LInda is loving the helping hand as I know her students can be a bit energetic, but then again they are children.” Allison smiled warmly at her energetic demon. It was nice to hear that Benny was getting along with the woman’s students as she feared that Benny would be too shy to handle them. She soon found Benny’s floating head hovering over her arms as he was clearly eyeballing her pie to be.

“What are you making?” The inquisitive toon asked before finding himself being lightly nudged away from the pie.

“It’s an apple pie as I have gingerbread cookies already in the oven.” The actress finished pinching off the dough on the edges before setting the pie aside and began to clean up the table all under the watchful eyes of her little demon.

Once the table was cleaned up Allison pulled out a chair and patiently waited for her timer to go off while Benny opened up his hammerspace and pulled out the folder of sheet music. His mother enjoyed the peaceful silence of the kitchen before she felt a slight tug on her arm. Benny held out the folder with a pleading look.

“Can you help me with these?” Benny gave her a hopeful look while Allison took the folder from him and fingered through its contents.

A smile crossed her face as she closed the folder. “Sure, but lets wait till the cookies are done and the pie is in the oven. Ok?”

Benny happily nodded and hopped off the chair reclaiming his folder and headed to the living room where the piano sat. He pulled the bench out and sat upon it patiently while he waited for Allison to finish with the cookies and to put the pie in the oven. He was happy he didn’t have to wait too long as he heard the characteristic ding of the timer and Allison moving the food to and from the stove before setting the timer again. He smile grew wider as he watched his mother set her oven mitt aside before entering the living room.

“All right , lets see what we got.” Allison smiled as she scooted the Benny over sitting down on the bench. Once she was seated Benny promptly placed the folder on the music stand and pulled out a few of the sheets setting them up for her.

Allison looked at the music and after studying them for a moment her fingers began to glide along the ivory keys playing out the music. Benny all the while listening to the music content with their soft yet energetic sounds. He had heard Christmas music on the radio as he rode with Linda to and from the school along with hints of the seasonal music in the stores with Allison, but at the end of the day he preferred the versions that were being played on the piano as they were far softer and more soothing. Allison played each and every song that the toon was going to be teaching the class how to sing before she pointed out the lyrics of the song.

“Now I’m gonna replay all the songs and this time I’m going to sing them. I’d like for you to follow along as best you can.” she gently lifted the toon setting him on her lap so he could see the sheet music better, but also to where she could still use the pedals.

The songs drifted through the home as Allison played the piano and both her and Benny sang the tunes. She was always amazed at how quickly Benny was able to repeat what he heard as he had the songs down very quickly to a point that she had him play the piano himself. He had to take his Ragdoll form in order to hit the pedals properly as well as to reach both sides of the piano. Even the change in size didn’t diminish the toons singing talent, Ragdolls voice was naturally deeper and more masculine than his normal boyish tones, but his sultry voice drifted through the air as he sang. All the months of working with Sammy helped the Ragdoll demon better utilize his voice in his larger form taking his normally garbled and sometimes missmatched tones smoothing them out.

Allison had to chuckle as she could tell Benny was getting into the music as he was singing louder and the stitching on his stomach came undone allowing his stomach mouth to sing with his normal voice in unison. It always warmed her heart to see Benny settle into his comfort zone. He is normally shy and reserved to a point that he needs encouragement on somethings, but to see him take center stage and be confident about it was always rewarding. She couldn’t wait to see the fruits of his labor with the children as he’ll be singing alongside them putting on his first Christmas performance.

The pair practiced together until Tom came home from work which made Benny immediately latch onto the man begging him to watch their performance. While Benny was begging for Tom’s audience Allison slipped away to handle the pie which had finished baking setting it atop the stove and turning off the oven before returning to the living room. All the while Tom had a demonic barnacle, the man wasn’t about to tell the toon ‘no’ so he kicked back on the couch and listened to the little toon’s performance while Allison played the piano. Benny was all grins as he performed for his father figure who was smiling at him, he couldn’t have been happier.

Allison watched Benny’s joy on his face as she and Tom already had planned on attending Benny’s little concert at the school. The toon was under the impression that Tom wouldn’t be able to make it so he was happy to let the man hear his songs at the moment, little did he know that his father had requested the day off solely to see the toon’s first performance as he wasn’t about to let anything in the world deter him. Once Benny finished his last song he took a bow earning a round of applause from his parents and joyous squeaks from him as Allison scooped him up into her arms.

“That was such a good show Benny.” Allison cooed at the toon in her arms with Tom getting up from the couch to lightly pat the demon between his horns.

“Yeah, I can tell you’ve been practicing very hard and you sound great.” the mechanic smiled warmly at his toon.

Benny beamed up as his folks as he couldn’t have been happier. Allison set him down allowing his to retrieve his music sheets before he stared at the lyrics pondering over who they were singing about.

“Allison?” his voice piped up from the piano bench. “Who’s Santa Claus?”

Benny had no clue as to who this man was as they were singing about a red nosed reindeer named Rudolf and a man named Santa who was happy about the deer’s glowing nose, as well as that Santa coming to town. The rest of the songs were about riding in a one horse open sleigh, silver bells as well as walking along in a winter wonderland. Those songs sang about things to do or places to enjoy during the holidays but not about this ‘Santa’ character.

Allison’s eyes grew wide at the toon’s inquiry. It surprised her that Benny hadn’t heard of Jolly old Saint Nick considering all the Christmas songs that the children would be singing but she soon realized that only 2 of Benny’s songs actually sang about the man and even then they didn’t say much about him. She bent down to his eye level grinning at him.

“Santa Claus is a heavy set older gentleman who makes toys in his workshop and then goes all around the world on Christmas eve delivering presents to children on his list. Children that are naughty don’t get any presents from him so it’s an incentive to be on his nice list.”

A gruff voice sounded out from behind her. “Which means you have to behave between now and Christmas or else no presents.” Tom chuckled only to regret his statement as a frown formed on Benny’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m a toon, not a human child. Does that mean I won’t get any presents from Santa cause I’m not human.” The toon looked up at his parents.

“Of course you’ll get presents sweetie.” Allison pulled the toon into a hug. “You’ve been a good boy all year, of course Santa would visit you bringing you gifts. You deserve them.” She smiled with Tom confirming her statement.

A flood of relief washed over Benny as he was happy to hear that Santa would visit him bringing him presents. The image of a heavy set man riding a red sleigh pulling up in front of the house with the man coming through his front door bringing gifts made the toon all the more excited about the holiday. He already enjoyed the quiet family time with his folks during the holiday as well as the gifts that his additional family and friends gave him, but the idea that he’ll get a special visit from the red and white dressed man was the icing on the cake.

Allison and Tom noted the toon’s increased excitement and a plan soon formed between the two of them. The time that Linda had Benny in her care gave Allison and Tom enough time to decorate the home while the toon was away. Seeing Benny come home to a fully decorated house and the Christmas tree brought inside and decorated pot and all made him firmly attach himself to his parents thanking them. He was entranced by the lights on the tree and the sparkle of the bulbs that decorated it. No matter how many times he passed by the tree in his backyard smelling it’s wonderful fragrance, it was something about it being in his home that made it even more special.

Allison and Tom could only share their smiles at seeing Benny acting like an eager child. It warmed their hearts that the toon was so childlike and that the simplest of gestures meant the world to him as he treasured the little things. Seeing him completely smitten with the wonder of the holiday season spurred them to put their plan into action. While Allison helped Benny prepare for his soon to be performance, Tom placed a few phone calls to some of their former staff to come out and to see both Benny and Bendy perform with the children for the first time. The man was eager to share the toon’s moment in the spotlight with their former coworkers who, since their escape, has done their best to help oversee the toons upbringing.

Sammy grumbled about attending, but when he heard that Benny was the one that taught the children how to sing the man was instantly on board, albeit almost too quickly. When asked why he agreed so suddenly, his excuse was that he needed to see how his teachings with Benny translated to the toon’s little pupils and will judge their performance. It was his way of saying that he’ll gladly attend. Norman was all for coming to see the toons perform alongside their little students with Bendy’s Nutcracker and Benny’s concert. The man couldn’t wait to see the boys dressed up doing the very thing that they were designed to do. He warned Tom that he was gonna be carrying tons of film to photograph the boys for the couple with Tom telling him that Allison already raided the market grabbing film.

Wally was more than happy to attend, greatly looking forward to the holiday show. Tom asked him if the man can procure a Santa costume telling him about his plan to surprise the toon. He wanted to have Wally dress as Santa and come down the chimney followed by a bag of some of the toons toys to surprise him. When asked if it was safe to go down the chimney Tom reassured the man that not only was the chimney and fireplace exceptionally large, but he’ll set up a harness to make the trip as safe as possible, that the man would have nothing to worry about. Once Wally’s concerns were laid to rest the man happily agreed and began to look for a santa costume that would fit him.

Susie was a little hesitant to attend, but Allison pleaded with her to come for the boy’s sake. They would be putting on their first show and that sure they would be nervous but seeing people they recognized in the crowd will help quell their fears. She reminded Susie of a time when she too had put on her first show and her nervousness, that the boys would be going through the same emotions. Susie finally sighed agreeing to come show her support for the little devils performances.

Once everyone was contacted and their tickets were mailed to them. Tom and Allison counted down the days until the toon’s performances while making sure Benny was well dressed for his concert. The plushtoon sported a little dark red suit and cap to hide his horns while Allison got him a little makeup to help hide his sepia yellow coloring and stitches. Benny wasn’t keen on the idea of wearing the makeup but was urged to since Yellow isn’t a natural skin color for humans and that he wasn’t alone in the makeup as Bendy had to wear some as well.

The morning of the concert was a bit chaotic as Tom had to pretend to go to work and hid from Benny all the while Allison was trying to get the toon to eat. It turned out that while Benny was initially excited to be performing, he soon became exceedingly nervous as stage fright was beginning to set in. Allison had to repeatedly try and ease the toons growing nerves as the hour drew near for when they needed to head to the school. No matter how much Allison insisted that the toon eat something before getting dressed, he simply had too many butterflies in his stomach to do so.

Allison had no choice but to make sure to pack snacks for him for the aftermath of the concert. She knew that once the concert was over that Benny’s hunger would come roaring back and she needed to be prepared for when that happened. While she packed, Benny was busy getting himself dressed in his little suit they bought him which he got a little help from Allison for the makeup. He lightly moaned about the power being put on his face but knew it was to help him better blend in as there would be many cameras facing him from parents taking photos of their children that would be standing next to him.

Once Benny was all prepared and ready to go Allison loaded him up in the car and took off down the road. The toon frowned as he wished Tom could have joined him, but at least he had Allison there cheering him on. As soon as he saw the school come into sight he would have looked as pale as a sheet if he wasn’t wearing makeup. Allison noted the very rigid movements of the toon as well as his piecut eyes that seemed to have shrunk and encouraged him that everything will be fine and that she’ll be cheering for him all the way.

Linda was having a hard time with Bendy as while the toon was showing more bravado about performing since it was in his nature, he was nervous about actually doing it since it was one thing on the big screen, it was another in reality. Bendy repeatedly had little bits of ink dripping on the side of his face with Linda constantly having to wipe the area and apply more makeup while trying to calm the toon down. She was thankful her classrooms performance was last since it gave the toons a chance to get used to the busy atmosphere of the auditorium.

Benny and Bendy watched some of the other classes performances before them in awe as all the parents greedily snapping photos of their respective child. The toons couldn’t believe how many adults showed up for the schools holiday performance which made the both of them wonder where their own families would be amongst the crowd. Bendy knew LInda would be in front of the class as she was conducting Benny’s concert after they put on their dance to the Nutcracker suite. Bendy’s eyes grew wide when he saw a group of people filing into the auditorium who were quickly fanning out to take up different positions in the hall. The little demon quickly nudged his stitched counterpart earning a soft grumble from Benny before Bendy pointed out who entered the room.

Norman had joined some of the parents who had taken up residence on the floor with various cameras as the projectionist was sporting a rather large camera of his own. It was clear that he was playing the role of ‘cameraman’. Wally soon joined the man with a smaller camera of his own not realizing that Norman had the same idea. Sammy and Susie were in the back of the hall both taking a seat in the middle. Both were looking upon the schedule pamphlets clearly wondering how many performances they would have to endure before their purpose for being there were on stage. Bendy lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw Henry taking a seat down in the front rows. He was under the impression his creator and dad wouldn’t be able to make it since the man was very vague about if he could come. Benny shared an equal look of astonishment to see Allison and Tom taking their seats next to his uncle. He knew Allison was coming but was shocked that Tom was there sitting next to her as he very bluntly told him he couldn’t make it because of his job. Normally the toon would have contemplated at getting the mechanic back for his little stunt, but his sheer excitement at seeing the entirety of his family made him forget his nervousness.

Bendy was up first for his performance with his portion of the students as they all danced to the Nutcracker suite. They all wore little costumes as they danced about the stage performing in time to music earning silent cheers from the audience. Henry and Linda both watched their little toon on stage with equal excitement and joy at Bendy being in his element, dancing. The little toon was performing to the best of his ability along with the students as they put on a very cute show. Norman and Wally’s camera were eagerly following the toons every movement snapping up pictures left and right, hoping to catch that perfect moment. One little girl tripped and was about to cry from her mishap, but Bendy slipped away from his dance routine to quickly pull her up and dance with her to cheer her up and to keep the show going. By the end of the play production the little girl was giggling and Bendy was grinning at the audience that burst into cheers at the end of their show. The students all lined up alongside Bendy with each holding onto the others hands and all took a collective bow before clearing off the stage to allow the next set of performers.

Benny had silently cheered for his counterpart all through his performance and now it was finally his turn. His group was the last set of performers as some portions of the auditorium had thinned out from parents going to retrieve their students from much earlier shows, but he wasn’t about to let that deter him. What mattered was that his family was there to see him and everything else was irrelevant. The toon adjusted his bowtie and motioned to his set of students to follow him as they entered the stage and each stood in their respective places. Linda took up position in front of the students as their conductor while another teacher took up the position on the piano. The teachers looked at each other before glancing over the students with little determined eyes and one set of piecut eyes confirming they were ready to begin.

A chorus of voices drifted through the air singing all the christmas songs that the children had selected. Benny had been selected by the class to be the lead singer as he lead the students throughout their respective pieces. All the while Allison and Tom watched lovingly from their seats at their little demons performance. The couple was truly happy that Benny was able to come out of his shell for the show as his voice was dominating the choir with the students primarily as backup vocals except for a view numbers where they all sang equally. The toon had settled into his comfort zone and he was making sure everyone could hear him. Even some of the families that had come to pick up their children and were about to head home reentered the auditorium to give the choirs music a listen. Sammy was trying his best not to smile but Susie told him she wouldn’t sell him out and the man was all grins. He was happy to see his little student performing so well in front of his first audience and was hoping for more shows in the future.

The last of the voices quieted down so a soft humm as the last song performed was ‘Silent Night’. The children sang softly allowing Benny to be the primary singer for the last song. His voice was soft as it lulled the audience into a sense of peace and calm, the crowds faces were relaxed as they leaned into the music. Once they finished the choir all stepped off their stage lining up alongside Benny holding hands to all take a bow. Linda lined them up and had them file out of the auditorium allowing the school principal to take over the podium thanking all the parents for coming and that they may retrieve their students from the school grounds for them to enjoy their winter break and to have a happy holiday.

Henry, Allison, Tom, Norman, Wally, Susie and Sammy didn’t need to be told twice that it was time to pick up the ‘children’. Henry, Allison and Tom lead the pack as they followed the students outside to gather up their toons. Bendy already had a cluster of children and parents around him as the little girl he helped as giving him a big thank you hug for helping her during the performance. Her parents were eagerly taking pictures of the two together and thanking the toon for his efforts. Benny had a small crowd of girls around him all complementing his singing talent and some were even boasting about how they couldn’t wait till he got older because they’d marry him. Benny would have been completely red faced if the makeup hadn’t hidden his actual coloring. It was a small blessing in disguise.

Tom laughed about Benny’s little collection of fan girls commenting about how the toon was popular with the ladies. Allison was having none of that and promptly relieved the toon of his little crowd with some of the girls moaning that it was time for the little demon to head home. They failed to notice little claws on the tips of Benny’s gloves clinging to his mother. Allison felt the little hints of his claws, but she could tell he was being careful and it was his way of letting her know he didn’t want to go anywhere near his little adoring fans. Tom could only laugh at the toons koala response to Allison until Benny was handed over to the man for which the toon didn’t mind digging his claws in him a little. Tom grumbled about having to hold onto a little plush cactus.

Henry gently retrieved Bendy from his little fan club telling the kids that Bendy had to go home and for them to enjoy the holidays. The animator chuckled at the students wishing his wife a Merry Christmas before their parents shuffled them on to the vehicles to make their journeys home.

Wally, Norman, Sammy and Susie all huddled around the toons happily congratulating them on their stellar performance earning bashful expressions from the both of them. Wally and Norman happily showed off their collection of film rolls with both families thanking them for their efforts. Allison and Linda both looked forward to seeing the results of their photo shoots. Susie joined the ladies as they retrieved the toons from Tom and Henry and they all gushed over the performance of the toons leaving the men to socialize amongst each other.

“Oh! Tom.” Wally gingerly walked up to the man. “I got what you asked for.”

A big grin split the mans face. “Really? That’s great.” He patted Wally on the back.

“What are you up to?” Norman crossed his arms raising a brow at Tom and Wally eagerly scheming between each other.

Tom motioned for the group of guys to come closer to better hear him for which Sammy rolled his eyes, but Henry dragged him over. Tom laid out his plans for his little surprise he wanted to pull off for Benny. He planned on setting up a harness for Wally, who would dress as Santa Claus, and go down the chimney to surprise Benny with some of his presents. The toon was looking forward to the holiday so he figured that he might as well add in a little fun along the way.

Sammy instantly bowed out saying he wanted no part of the mechanics scheme claiming that he already had plans for the holidays for which Norman commented about how the former music director and a certain little former angel actress were gonna spend the holiday together. The man turned beet red in a mix of embarrassment and anger but didn’t dare yell for fear of drawing the women to them, he uttered a few curses and left it at that. Henry too had to tell Tom that he wasn’t gonna be available for the holidays this year as his daughter had invited them to spend Christmas with her and the new grandbaby. Concerns were raised about how she may react to Bendy for which Henry laughed and told them that when they were comfortable and told her about him, she moved heaven and earth to get to their home to meet him. She was raving about wanting to meet her ‘older brother’ as she viewed the toons as a sort of sibling after she grew up seeing Henry’s short of Bendy playing with a little baby.

Norman didn’t mind helping out as he’d do anything to see a smile on the toon’s faces, however, he wondered if going down a chimney was a smart idea. Questions had been raised about how safe it was to pull off such as stunt with Thomas telling him that the fireplace and Chimney were larger then the ones he’d normally seen and that a person can easily go down it with no issues as he’s had to go in a few times to clean it. He especially questioned it when he recalled how Benny handled the would-be burglars that attempted to rob Janice’s home. Tom instantly waved away the mans concerns telling him that Benny would be excited about Santa coming and had nothing to worry about. Norman shrugged and closeted his concerns when Wally eagerly hug off the man boasting about how they were gonna have so much fun for which the group promptly had to shut him up once the women were drawn to the groups lively chatter.

Benny wished Bendy farewell and good luck on his trip to see his sibling and to give the grandbaby a hug for him. Bendy was excited about the baby but then realized how fragile a human is let alone a baby and froze up. He feared that he would hurt the baby by merely touching her and Benny had to reassure his counterpart that he had nothing to worry about. He isn’t the monster he likes to think he is as he already is about to play with human children no problem, one little baby wouldn’t be any different. Bendy relaxed at Benny’s words and wished his counterpart a farewell and that he’ll see him after they get back from their trip.

The toons were rounded up and everyone bid each other farewell and Merry Christmas with hugs all around and a red Sammy. The man yowled about the hugs, but soon found himself tackled by two demons earning more irate screeches from him as the parents had to pull the toons off him. Allison cooed with Benny happily squeaking in her arms when she told him about all the cookies and treats she was gonna make at home as she pried him off Sammy. The actress headed on home ahead of Tom leaving him to finalize the plans he had in store for his little demon with his co conspirators while Sammy beat a hasty retreat and headed home with Susie. Henry wished him luck for he and Linda headed on home with Bendy in tow.

--------- Early Christmas Morning ----------

Allison had yet to stir as the early morning had arrived. Tom was thankful his wife had spent a good chunk of her day and night making cookies and food for the day. It would make his plans to surprise Benny all the easier if she wasn’t in the way. He had already taken the liberty of setting up the ladder on the side of the house so they would have an easy access to the roof and now all he had to do was wait for Norman and Wally to show up. Though he had to admit he was getting nervous as the sun hadn't risen yet and Allison was an early riser. He hoped that she wouldn’t get up and ruin their fun.

He peered over the edge of the couch to see Benny curled up sound asleep. The little demon had tried to stay up for Santa so he could see him, but passed out shortly after laying down on the bed. A wide grin spread across his face as he couldn’t wait to see the little demons reaction to Santa coming out the chimney with toys. Of course part of him knew that Wally wouldn’t be able to keep him mouth shut and blow his cover revealing who he is, and he was fine with that. The element of surprise to him was worth more than having to explain the realities behind Santa and parents waking at unholy hours to place gifts.

The curtains by their front door briefly flashed catching Tom’s attention. The lights flickered a few times letting him know Norman and Wally had arrived. They didn’t dare use their car horn for fear of waking Benny and opted to use their high and low beams of their headlights to send the message that they were there.

Tom quietly paced to the front door letting himself out leaving it unlocked before greeting his friends. “Good morning.” he beamed at the van with the two men stepping out.

“Likewise.” Norman eased himself out of the driver's seat stretching briefly before giving Tom a welcoming hug.

“Got ya Santa costume!” Wally happily shouted waving a large bag with both Tom and Norman quickly shushing the man.

“Jesus Christ boy, th’ ‘hole point is t’ surprise th’ boy in th’ costume, not t’ wake ‘em up beforehand.” Norman scowled at the now sheepish janitor.

Tom then looked at the bag and then back at Wally. “How come you aren’t wearing the costume? I figured you’d come already in it.”

Wally then gazed at Norman “Well Norman suggested that we try to see if I can even fit down the chimney first before attempting to put the costume on.”

“Better t’ be safe than sorry.” Norman added in. “Cause if Wally don’ fit, then you or I gotta ‘ear th’ costume since we’re smaller than ‘im.”

Tom crossed his arms in contemplation. “You have a point there. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that as I will have a lot of explaining to do. Grant you I gotta explain things anyways, but it’s easier to do it if I don’t have a big fake beard on.”

The group of men chuckled at the image of the gruff and rough around the edges Tom attempting to be all jolly which was a horrific sight in their eyes as jolly and Tom are two words that don’t belong next to each other. Tom waved away their laughter at the thought and motioned for them to get a move on as they didn’t know when Allison or Benny may stir. Tom showed them the ladder he had already set up before ascending with Wally and Norman in tow. Wally was surprised to see a harness and safely ropes already established with Tom commenting about how he had already set everything up to keep their noise making to a minimum, even the gifts that were to accompany them had been brought up. He wanted the sounds of them going down the chimney to be what wakes Benny rather then them scurrying around on the roof attempting to set everything up.

Tom and Norman helped Wally into the safety gear and then had the man ease himself over the edge of the chimney with Norman already deadpanning at the sight. “Ya don’ fit.”

Wally chuckled looking at his girth with Tom also scowling at this revelation. “How much did you say you weighed?” Tom looked at the former janitor.

“Well I did put on some weight.” the man chuckled with his small laughs causing his stomach to jiggle like jello. “I guess it will be either you or Norman going down then.”

Norman instantly pointed at Tom. “I ain’t goin’ cause I can already see where this is goin’.” Tom was about to raise a voice in protest when Norman put his foot down. “Yer kid, yer show.”

Tom opened and closed his mouth a few times before a groan escaped him as he ran his hands down the sides of his face. There was no arguing with Norman whatsoever. He glanced at the bag that Wally had set aside and grumbled. “Fine. Gimmie the stupid bag.”

Wally handed over the bag so Tom can put the costume on while Norman helped the former janitor out of his harness. Wally tripped and fell on the rooftop with both Tom and Norman scolding the man to be a little more careful. All the while the sound of Wally’s stumbling and his fall had woken a little occupant within the home.

Benny blearily blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he was awoken by strange noises from above. The toon looked up towards the ceiling in confusion as to the noises he was hearing and carefully listened, hoping it was just a tree branch and not something else. However he heard a set of muffled voices coming from the direction of the fireplace as little bits of dust seemed to rain down from above. Anger swiftly swept over the toon. Someone was trying to break into his house! He growled softly as he got up from the couch taking on his Ragdoll form and paced over to the fireplace. He cautiously peeked his head in the chimney only to better hear a voice telling whoever was on the other end to slowly lower him down.

Tom looked back at Norman and Wally fully clothed and sporting the harness. “All right gents, carefully lower me down and then follow up with the bag.” earning nods from both men a they grasped onto the ropes preparing to help lower their friend.

Tom slowly eased himself into the mouth of the chimney with a small flashlight for emergencies as well as to help him see down the throat of the chimney. He felt the ropes become taught as Norman and Wally shouldered his weight and he slowly made his descent.

A grin graced Tom’s face as he couldn’t wait to see the look on Benny’s face, the little toon would be so excited. His cheer and enthusiasm diminished as he heard strange shuffling sounds below him prompting him to cautiously grab a hold of his light and directed the beam below him. His eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he saw a gaping maw waiting for him as the chimney was lined with massive yet familiar white teeth with bits of dripping ink on their edges. Ragdoll! Fear washed over Tom like a wave as he realized that Benny was not taking their coming down the chimney like a happy child and was on the defensive. He looked like he wanted to eat him!

“Pull me up, pull me up!” Tom all but screamed at Norman and Wally with his slow decent instantly coming to a halt.

Norman and Wally both turned pale at Tom’s screams to be pulled up and frantically began to tug on the ropes to pull up their friend. Something had gone wrong and Tom needed help. However the pair above failed to realize that the demon below had other plans.

Ragdoll loudy growled at the intruder in his families chimney, and now this guy was trying to escape! Not on his watch. Ragdoll moved himself out of his position in the fireplace and motioned for his threads to extend and sent his hands up the chimney. After some light fishing around he finally found the now panicking worm on the hook as his hands secured both legs of his intruder and began to pull.

If Tom was panicking before then he was on overdrive. He had hoped that once he was pulled out that Benny would back off, but upon feeling the demons large hands grab both his legs, that hope was dashed in an instant. Benny wasn’t backing off, and if anything, was pulling his prey towards him. He was now a worm on a hook dangling before a very angry fish. Norman and Wally struggled to pull Tom upwards before realizing that Benny was awake and was on the attack.

Memories of Janice’s words about Benny taking on his Ragdoll form to defend the elderly home flashed in his mind as he quickly glanced at Wally struggling alongside him to pull Tom up. “I gotta go.”

“W-What?” Wally gaped at the man before Norman dropped the ropes and ran for the ladder with Wally calling out to him.

Tom felt the tugs to pull him up were dying as Benny was clearly overpowering Norman and Wally. The demon was far stronger than a man as he was feeling the demon pulling him downwards. He briefly heard Wally shouting something before he felt the final tug as Benny pulled him completely down and out the fireplace.

Ragdoll dragged a figure out of his fireplace and threw the man onto the floor roaring at him with both mouths at point blank. He wanted to instill fear into this man before knocking him out as he was getting ready to deliver a solid knockout blow to the stomach.

“B-Benny! Wait It’s me!!!” the red and white clothed man was frantically waved his arms as he was pulling off a large white material that resembled a beard off his very familiar face.

“T-ToM?!” Ragdolls singular eye was as wide as a dinner plate as he looked down at his father figure who was frantically waving his hands.

Before Benny had the time to process what was going on Norman burst through the front door. “Wait Benny! Don’t hurt him, it’s Thomas!” The man's voice died as he saw Tom laying on the floor beneath Benny with the ragdoll demon standing above him with a clear look of shock and confusion.

“What on earth is going on here?!” another voice bellowed across the room as all eyes turned to see a very angry Allison stomping her foot in the doorway.

Everyone looked around at each other at a clear loss as to what to say to the irate actress who’s looks demanded an answer. Before any of them were able to get in so much as a word, Wally burst through the front door.

“Tom are you ok?!” he shouted before his eyes met Allison’s and his bravado and concern for his friend died in to a mere squeak.

Not wanting to be under Allison’s scornful gaze, Benny instantly pointed a finger at Tom. “He WaS cOmInG dOwN tHe ChImNeY aNd I tHoUgHt SoMeOnE wAs BrEaKiNg In.”

Cold angry eyes fell upon Tom as Allison glared at him. “Well?”

“Thomas was tryin’ t’ serpris’ yer boy there Mrs. Allison.” Norman spoke up. “He wanted t’ have Wally ‘ere dress as Santa and come down th’ chimney to give yer boy his Christmas gifts. Wally couldn’ fit, so Tom had t’ go down. We didn’ think that Benny would get defensiv’. We thought he’d be a happy boy.”

Allison sighed while rubbing her temples to school in her temper. “Well I can see he thought you were breaking and entering.” She looked at her husband who had picked himself off the floor. “What on earth made you think this was a good idea?”

Tom looked sheepish at his wife as her words sunk in. “I just wanted to surprise Benny for Christmas. Since he liked Santa I thought having jolly old saint nick come down the chimney would be a delightful surprise for him. I never thought he’d react this way.”

Ragdoll looked down at his father figure with surprise. Tom just wanted to make the day special for him, even if it spiraled out of control the way it did. The demon dumped the excess ink reverting back to his normal form with Benny now looking up at his father.

“I already had a feeling Santa wasn’t real.” the toons words drawing his father's attention. “I liked the idea of a jolly man delivering presents, but there is no way one guy can visit everyone in a single night unless it’s the parents delivering the presents. I stayed up to try and confirm my suspicions, but I was too tired and fell asleep.” the demon gave a small warm smile. “I’m thankful you tried anyways to make the holiday even more special.”

Tom found Benny giving him a hug while a look of shock was on his own face before it morphed to content returning the hug. Benny already knew and if anything was even more elated that he had at least tried. A glance at his wife seeking forgiveness from her was met with soft eyes and a tired hint of a smile.

“Well even though you did something stupid. What mattered was you were trying to make Benny happy. I guess I can forgive you.” She lightly laughed before approaching and giving her husband a hug. “And besides, Santa baby.” she laughed before pulling his fake beard back over his face. “I’ve been an angel all year, so what did you bring us?”

Benny instantly giggled at his mother’s affections towards a now stunned Tom with the man sputtering at his wife's actions. Norman laughed while Wally cheered before they retreated out the home to grab the gifts that had been left behind. While the pair was gone Allison and Tom shared a tender kiss before it was interrupted with Ragdoll bringing them both in for a hug.

Tom initially scowled at the toon’s interference before it gave away to a content grin. He had to admit while things didn’t exactly work as planned, seeing Benny’s happy face as Wally and Norman came in with their presents as well as the toons gratitude towards his family and friends made his holiday worth while.

Merry Christmas everyone~

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tcrmommabear · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas Catsafari!

I mean, I’m pretty sure you’ve already read this since you have the link to the word document, but I wanted to officially give this to you!

Inspired by your desire for a Bureau Files AU, The Case of the Three Barons, and Waltz Katzen Blut, we now have the beginnings of Toto x Haru

Also, Haru wonders if feathers technically count as “fur” in some communities. If I could do the eyes emoji, I would, but alas

Merry Christmas, my best friend, and I can’t wait to see you! (oh fudge, tag you, @catsafarithewriter)

The mausoleum door didn’t creak open ominously. Didn’t open to a foreboding dark cavern to who-knows-what down below.

No, it opened to a well lit room. The door simply swung open, newly oiled and built into the walls of this tomb. Names were carved into the granite, but no bodies or ashes laid by them. Or anywhere in this portion of the mausoleum. It was just built ahead of time.

A head poked in, taking a glance around the room. She clicked off the flashlight and opened the door further, stepping out from the dark graveyard into the granite building.

“Looks empty,” she called out, “wait, scratch that, it’s completely empty.”

“Probably for the best, considering what we’re investigating,” a voice told her as they swooped by, the crow flapping into place by the bust of the youngest child.

“Are we sure we aren’t just looking for normal cats, Toto?” Haru whined again, swinging her arms to gesture around the mausoleum.

Toto gave a short laugh, tilting his head in her direction.

“Cats may be fast, but one disappearing before the groundskeeper’s eyes is a little much,” he replied, laughing again as Haru huffed.

“Honestly, I'm just willing to bet this whole thing is a wild cat chase.”

“Not goose?”

“Don’t be silly, geese are terrible enough without paranormal involvement.”

The pair shared a look, before breaking down into laughter, the sound echoing from the marble. Haru wiped a tear away from her face, walking a slow circle around the building.

“I mean, honestly, Toto, the things he tells us to go investigate,” Haru griped, lightly kicking a column that served absolutely no purpose.

“Haru…”

“I mean it! I mean, seriously, ghost cats? What’s next? Ghost turtles?”

“I hear they’re especially crafty.”

“Funny, but you’re not getting a laugh out of me, Mr. Funny Crow.”

Toto gave her a sheepish grin, one that sent a little ping through her heart. She turned away, running her fingers over the walls, looking for some sort of seam or hidden passage. She told herself that at least, to keep from arguing with herself over if feathers counted for…

The silence they fell into was comfortable, but primed. Toto knew her feelings, knew the anger and conflict she felt over their situation. Not their general one, but the one forcing them to investigate a clear deadend. A certain Cat Doll.

“Honestly, what did I even do to him? I just needed help,” she eventually told Toto, voice caught somewhere between angry and defeated. He didn’t like the sound of it.

“He… Changed, when he went missing, Haru. He told me a little bit, but I don’t know any more than you,” he said, apologetic.

She looked at him, their eyes meeting halfway and a million miles apart. She knew he knew more. He knew that. She wanted answers so badly, but knew the exact one. Knew the very obvious answer that frustrated her.

He had met her in that other world. And he walked away burned.

“What did I do?” she asked again, but to no one in particular.

Maybe to that cat sitting on the coffin that wasn’t there before.

“Holy sh-!”

“Watch out!”

The world slowed for seconds. Toto took off towards her. She threw her flashlight. The lights flickered, the cat’s head slowly cocking. Its flesh bubbled.

Toto transformed mid air, and pinned both of them to the floor as black ichor surged from the cat. Even as the air slowly stilled, and what he knew to be infected magic slunk away to hide, Toto didn’t stop covering Haru with his body. The uncut quartz nicked her cheek, the necklace it hung from now more visible against Toto’s human form.

“Well that,” she said as Toto leaned back to let her sit up, “was spooky as hell.”

“I think you’d prefer the ghost turtles now.”

“No thanks, I hear they’re especially crafty.”

They both go to laugh, but the tangled mess of emotions and life-or-death adrenaline catches in their throats and puts it at the bottom of their stomachs. They both stay on the floor, low and quiet, hoping maybe it’d keep whatever caught them from coming back.

“The one mission…” she mumbled angrily.

“The one damn mission he sends me on that’s supposed to be a cat-chase and it turns out it’s actually full of danger.”

“He’s always had that sort of luck and timing,” Toto offers, but this time neither offer even a twitch of the lips for that light jab. He drops the attempts at humor.

“What’s our plan?”

“Don’t get gooed by explosive ghost cats?” Haru offers hesitantly, shrugging at Toto’s side eye. “Leave me alone, this is the first time in a while doing a mission without some Cat Doll telling me I’m messing up.”

“No reason to be out of practice, Haru.”

“Okay, are we going to keep up this banter and flirting all night, or are you going to focus?”

They both laugh a brief second, Haru’s hand moving to cover her mouth before adjusting to scratching at her neck. Okay, she just said that. Toto laughed. She laughed. Jokes, funny, ha ha, right?

There was another cat.

“Fuck!”

She yanked Toto back, pulling him out of the line of fire. Her shoes scrambled against the marble floor, and they fell back against the mausoleum door. The explosion splattered across the sides of the coffins, shooting upwards rather than around.

Before the black magic could disappear, more cats appeared, heads cocking to the side.

One by the tallest window, one on each of coffins, and a final one sitting in front of them. The one before them lashed its tail, eyes two different colors. One a bit too human to be a cat’s eye.

The door behind them slammed into their backs, forcing them forward. They went to land on the cat, their bodies landing on marble flooring. All the cats disappeared, the black magic slinking into the shadows.

A tall, ginger man stepped into the building, looking between the two lying on the floor. His expression was impassive, offering a hand to Toto to help him up, his words only directed towards him.

“Are you alright, old friend? Looks like I found you in the knick of time,” he said, swiping at supposed dirt on Toto’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, too, Humbug,” Haru groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of her head.

“Humbug” froze, giving Toto a moment to escape from his tight grasp and head towards Haru. He knelt down, pressing gently fingers around where Haru had touched. She winced, hissing in protest when he continued to search.

“You’re tough as nails, Haru, Baron and I knew you were fine,” Toto told her, shooting a warning glance at their third. He briefly held his hands up in surrender, glancing between the two.

Toto kept his eyes on Haru, searching for injury or any touch of black magic. Haru glanced between Toto and Baron, narrowing her eyes at the later. She seemed a little too preoccupied with the former, though.

Baron kept his eyes on the two of them.

Muta, entering after (as a cat, not a human), surveyed the situation, and caught what most wouldn’t see. Baron’s grip tightened on the cane. Throat bobbed nervously. Eyes followed the same path Toto’s hands took, double checking what he found.

Expression just barely hiding the concern and worry he had for the young woman on the floor.

“What did you guys find, anyways?” Haru suddenly asked, pushing Toto away. She grabbed the top of the coffin, hauling herself up to be at chin-level with the men around her. (A fact she was always a bit salty about).

“Bupkis,” Muta responded, watching Baron’s expression fall into unflappable cool. “The groundskeeper’s house had nothing, and the crypt we wandered into had actual dead people.”

“I’d take corpses over exploding cats at this point,” Haru responded, chills running up her spine at the thought.

“You would until their ghosts start yelling at you for trespassing,” Muta countered, nodding towards Baron. “In German, too.”

The others looked at the Cat Creation turned man. He at least allowed himself to turn pink in the ears.

“They were… Quite angry.”

“Great, so real ghosts, cat-ghosts, what else are we to expect from here?”

“Ghost turtles?” Toto prompted, nudging Haru. She gave a small grin. The joy melted off her face, replaced with horrified bewilderment.

“Oh my fucking-!”

A little turtle sat on the window sill across from her, eyeing the others. Its head cocked to the left.

“God dammit Toto!”

#tcr #the cat returns #the bureau files au #tbf au #tcrmommabear writes #tcrmommabear posts #catsafari #tcr secret santa #tcr secret santa 2019 #im typing all these tags at 11 at night btw #when i was awake at maybe 7ish this morning?#but yeah them ghost turtles #also in this au #this is the baron that hadnt met haru yet #was returned #and a year later met haru #still salty about all the trouble she caused #their relationship is a lot more hostile #buuuuuuttt #baron actually harbors feelings for haru in this #he tries to leave her as bureau member and not a friend #but theres a reason harus and barons always come together #its because haru is a furry and has a damn type #also toto has a shapeshifting pendant #quartz because according to wiki its the most ~programmable~#but yeah baron struggles because he sees a wonderful person #but doesnt want to endanger everything hes worked for #pride is the ultimate sin #someone help i still have a million more tags to write for other fics

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paintingraves · 5 years

Text

still got it

reposting this here because i completely revised it ! some fluff for the soul.

[AO3 LINK]

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“...And that's how Dougal became part of my family,” Newt concludes with a wide smile. “Now. It’s your turn to tell me a story, Mr. Graves.” The man punctuates his sentence with a cheeky wink, and the corner of Graves’ lips curves up.

“I have no stories to tell.”

“Bull-shit,” Newt intones. He is flushed, the effect of two glasses of white wine. “Tina told me there’s a rumor going around that... touching the President’s headdress," he gestures towards his own hair, "will result in ten years of good luck. She also told me she believes you are the one who started that rumor. Is that so?”

Graves does smile properly this time, a wide grin that makes his eyes sparkle and his cheeks glow. It takes ten years off his age. It has the unfortunate side-effect of making Newt’s heart do a summersault in his chest. He wills it to calm down. “I won't dignify that with an answer.”

“Oh, bugger off,” Newt says lightly. “What time is it - shouldn't you get back to work?”

“Yes, I should.” Graves raises his hand, catching the waitress’ eyes. “Check, please,” he tells her, and she comes over with a nod, taking their plates away with practiced efficiency. Graves rolls himself a cigarette after she’s gone, something Newt eyes with distaste but doesn’t comment on. They all have their bad habits.

“There you go, sir,” the waitress says, placing the tab on the table. “I trust you enjoyed your meal?”

“We did, thank you,” Graves says. “We’ll be back. It's a lovely place. Loved the steak.”

“I’m very happy to hear that, sir.” The girl sounds sincere, and her smile is charming. She winks at him, and Graves realizes with a start that she must like him. It's very flattering. “Have a good day.”

“You too, darling,” he teases, and smiles when the waitress’ face turns a lovely shade of pink. She coughs, gives him one last look before turning on her heels, and Graves turns back to his companion with satisfaction. “Well. I assume I still got it.” Newt doesn’t reply. His grip is knuckle white around his glass, and Graves worries he might shatter it and hurt himself. “Newt ? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Newt whispers, sounding vaguely strangled. “Fine. Was she your type? She must be at least ten years younger than you." He sounds accusing.

Graves blinks. “What?”

“The waitress!”

“Oh! Oh no - not at all! I'm just - having fun, nothing serious - god, no. It just feels good to know I can still catch the eye even after…” He gestures vaguely to his outward appearance. "Well. You know what I mean."

Graves’ suit is bespoke, as expensive looking as one can get. He fills it out nicely now, after a few adjustments and months of recovery, but it does not hide his missing eye. The empty socket would be visible if not for an eyepatch, giving the man a vaguely rogue air. He cannot either conceal the cane he keeps at his side to help him walk, or the streaks of white in his longer hair. Graves is forty-five, but he looks well over fifty.

And yet age seems to treat him right: he’s not lost that liquid, dangerous tilt to his body when he moves, a positively predatory gate that makes people scatter when he walks into a room. Confidence is still etched in the set of his shoulders, in the sharpness of his smile, and the overall effect - if Newt’s being quite honest - is extremely attractive. In short, he understands why the waitress would feel flustered in his presence, and he understands why Graves would respond. As he said, it's flattering. But it bothers him.

“So if I were to flirt with you like she did…” Newt starts, and Graves looks at him curiously. Curse the bloody wine. “...Would you feel flattered too?”

“Yes,” Graves says. “Very much so. But you never tried.”

“No,” Newt says tightly. “I have not. I didn't think you'd be interested.” Graves looks at him.

The waitress comes back, so he fishes his wallet out of his inner vest pocket, the conversation briefly interrupted. He takes out a couple bills and places them on top of the check.

“You touched my hand,” Graves gasps when the lady retrieves the bills and accidentally brushes her fingers over Graves’ knuckles.

“Oh - I’m sorry, I didn’t...”

“Not at all, not at all. It's alright.” Daringly, Graves takes her hand in his. The waitress startles. “On the contrary," he says, voice low. "Now I will tell all my friends I’ve had the pleasure to touch an angel.”

“Graves, for heaven's sake,” Newt hisses at him. "This is inappropriate. She's working." Graves chuckles and releases her. He takes his cane in hand and gets up swiftly.

“Sorry love, work calls. Have a good day. Take care of yourself.”

“Hm - thank you?” she says faintly, still looking a bit bewildered. "You too, sirs."

Newt drags Percival out of the restaurant before the man does something insane like actually get her number. He doesn't think Percival would - it's just harmless flirting, he can understand that. But the whole thing made him positively uncomfortable.

“What the fuck was that?” He asks once they’re outside, buttoning up his coat with shaking hands. He tucks them inside his pockets and scowls - and Graves still looks amused .

“That was me flirting, Newt. I could give you some lessons, it might help you out with Tina.”

“I don’t - Tina?…” Hang on. Newt stills. He doesn’t need lessons, of course he doesn’t, him and Tina are over - but suddenly he finds himself imagining what exactly these lessons could entail and…Graves holding his hand, whispering sweet nothings into his ear... That terrible pick up line, Jesus. That was embarassing. “Maybe you’re right. I think I need a couple of lessons to... hone my seduction skills. Would you help me?”

Graves laughs, delighted. “Alright. Your place or mine?”

Newt frowns. “Isn’t it a bit too early for that?”

“Is it?" Graves says. "Newt. Do you think I haven’t noticed you looking at me all these past weeks?”

“What?” Newt squawks, stopping short.

“I won't say I understand your interest,” Graves says, a little softer, “But I most certainly like you too. I wasn't sure, but the look on your face when I flirted with her confirmed it. You looked like you'd swallowed a sour lemon. It would be my honor to teach you more about seduction if you promise to use your newfound knowledge on me.”

Newt's heart is hammering in his chest. When did he stumble into this other reality, the one in which Percival Graves reciprocates his feelings and desires?

“This is not happening,” he says in disbelief, and Graves raises an eyebrow - his assured smile faltering.

“Oh," he says, deflating. "Shit. No. I'm - shit, did I read this wrong? Newt? I won't... I didn't... Let's get back to work.” He heaves a deep, trembling breath and turns around to leave.

Newt stares at his back. “Percival, wait.”

"We’re going to be late,” Graves replies, and keeps walking away.

“No, stop!” Newt trots after him to catch up. He bars the man’s path, standing in front of him with his arms outstretched, uncaring if he is making a scene to the eyes of outsiders. “Let me get this clear. Do you want me?”

“Newt,” Graves says softly. "I... Ever since you saved - ever since you found me, I..." He shakes his head, struggling with words. "I like being with you," he settles on. He waves his hand, and there's a shimmer in the air - he's used a spell so this conversation could have the privacy it deserves. They're still standing in the middle of the street, and it's midday. Even if no one pays attention to him, such confessions are not meant to be heard. "Everyone let me go. They didn't know how to behave around me. But you stayed. Even now that I'm better, you're staying. I'm glad MACUSA gave you a job in the meantime, but I know you have research to pursue and could quit anytime you wanted."

"Yes, well," Newt says. He itches to reach out and touch Percival's face. He takes one step. Another. He wants to hug him, to kiss him, to wipe that vulnerabilty from his face. He liked the Percival from a few moments ago, the one who was laughing with him in the restaurant, devilishly handsome. "I don't quite fancy leaving just yet. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd really like to kiss you right now."

Graves licks his lips, eyes wide, and Newt moves. In three strides he is up to Graves’ level. He is taller than him, a fact he enjoys enormously. He cups Percival's face in his hand, tilts his head up. He kisses him, and feels Percival smile against his mouth.

When he steps back, after a minute or possibly an hour, Graves looks dazed. Unable to resist, Newt drags him into another kiss, then another. Graves’ cane clatters to the ground. He starts clutching at Newt’s coat, hugging him tightly. It's started snowing around them, but Newt feels warm all over.

With a shaky laugh, Graves tucks his head against Newt’s chest, who wraps his arms around him. “Well.”

“Hmm?” Graves asks, muffled.

“I suppose this means we're dating now.”

Graves snorts. Newt is smiling like an absolute loon, and he suspects Percival must be the same. “I think we already were, you idiot. We were just a bit slow to notice.”

Newt thinks of all the times they’ve gone out to either lunch or dinner together; all the times they touched affectionately at the office, when Graves let no one else approach him. He thinks of his own recent birthday, when Graves went out of his mind and offered him a baby phoenix. He thinks of the day Graves held him as he broke down after the mother Graphorn died of illness. He thinks of all these sacred, shared moments between them, interspaced over the last year, ever since Graves' eyes first opened in the hospital following his rescue. He thinks of Percival Graves, and then he doesn’t have to think, because the object of his affections is kissing him again, quite expertly.

“Indeed,” he says between two kisses. “We must have been.”

“Hmm.”

“You actually like me,” Newt says, amazed.

“Yes, I do,” Graves murmurs. "Please keep kissing me."

#percival graves #newt scamander #gramander #Fantastic beasts and where to find them #my fic

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everythingandeveryplace · 5 years

Text

*Thorns part 3 Eric x OC*

He hadn’t been wrong about her smile, it was the absolute only thing on his mind from the moment he watched her silky curls leave his line of sight. Something about her was burned into his system now, he couldn’t seem to shake the way her skin felt under his fingers, even just the tiniest touch of his hands on her waist had his heart beating just a little too fast in his chest. Her skin smelt like vanilla and peaches and laying alone in his bed last night he couldn’t help but wonder if she tasted like sugar, it was maddening really.

This wasn’t him, he wasn’t the type of fool to get caught up in milk chocolate eyes and rose petal lips, he was stronger than that, bullet proof against the charms of a women. Sure he’d had his share, he was in shape, handsome, well put together and dangerously mysterious..his cruel nature seemed to draw the women of Dauntless to him like bees to honey and he used them. They warmed his bed and satisfied a need but that was all, it wasn’t like they weren’t using him too, he was payback for ex boyfriends, karma for neglectful fathers and a challenge to their friends.

But then there was Ella, strong and fierce, damaged and beautiful.. she had seen things he couldn’t even begin to imagine, done things that would scare even the strongest man but still.. she smiled like melted sugar cane and her touch was as warm as early morning sunshine. There were secrets buried deep in her eyes, an unimaginable level of pain that he wanted nothing more than to shield her from, to finally protect the tiny slip of a girl who had spent the last three years fighting.

“She’s mine.”

The clang of metal hitting metal had Eric’s eyes lifting from the tablet in his hand, pulling himself back to reality he stared blankly at Luke, the shorter boy dropping onto the bench across from him, a dreamy far off look in his eyes. Elliot followed closely behind with Deema and Four slid into the spot beside Eric rolling his eyes.

“You wish. Dude, she literally took like eight steps away everytime you came close. She wants me. Did you not see the way she smiled at me when I gave her that hand wrap. That’s it, no one else stands a chance.” Elliot grinned smugly, his arms exposed in the sleeveless tank top he was wearing. Funny how Eric had never seen that shirt before.

“She’s amazing dude, I can’t believe you missed it. That Ellarose is like everything I ever imagined and so much more, max assigned her to combat training with the new initiates and we all got to sit in and watch. She’s so focused and get this.. she broke the dummy.. snapped it clean off its base. I think peter almost shit his pants when she asked for a volunteer.” Deema chuckled.

“Her only disadvantage is her size, she can easily win any fight but if she’s caught by surprise or her attacker manages to grab the upper hand, which is rare for her, they would be able to easily grab her and crush her.” Four nodded from beside him.

“Her size is an advantage as well, she’s underestimated. She was factionless for three years, and one of those years she wasn’t even part of the army and she still managed to overpower all of them.” Eric snapped, he felt a strong urge to defend Ella, he didn’t want anyone thinking they had a reason to doubt her.

“You did your research.” Deema teased tossing a grape at him from across the table, Eric caught it easily and popped it in his mouth rolling his eyes.

“Of course I did. She’s one of us now..you jackasses heard she didn’t have a dick and you were ready to hand over your guns.” He scoffed.

“I’d give her anything, I’d give her my last name if shed let me flip her over..” Elliot started

“ENOUGH.” Eric barked, it was loud he knew that, could almost feel it in his throat but he didn’t care, he didn’t give a shit when all eyes locked on him in the mess hall. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.” Luke’s eyes widened before narrowing

“What the fuck dude? You haven’t even met her yet.. you don’t get to play the “I respect women” card when I say you in the training room bending Lauren over the weights with your hand over her mouth three nights ago.” He hissed.

The memory of that night was long forgotten, he had been drinking and he was so damn tired and Lauren was there, she was always there following him, watching him. He had been on his way home after a workout when she walked in with her long blonde hair and barely there shorts, Lauren had finished bottom of her class the same year as Eric, her father was a leader at Dauntless and that’s the only reason she had graduated. She was sexy but she was weak and desperate, he hadn’t even taken off his hand wraps before her hand was deep under the waistband of his shorts. He didn’t remember much of it, he couldn’t even look at her during or after.

“You might want to cut this argument short. Look who just walked through the door.” Four nodded towards the open doors where Ella was standing somewhat awkwardly, her mess of curls pulled back into a braid, loose strands brushing across her cheekbones and the tight black tank top she wore exposed the scribbled writing on her collarbone, he couldn’t quite make it out.

“Let’s ask her to sit with us!” Luke beamed, standing for a moment to wave excitedly, Ella’s eyes instantly fell on Eric’s table, a shy kind of soft smile gracing her lips until she caught sight of Eric. Her whole body loosened, he saw the way her shoulders dipped and her head cocked to the side, her fingers that had been balled tightly dropped to her thighs and smoothed the fabric of her pants before she started towards the table.

He was already shifting to the side to make room when Ella was intersected by an incredibly excited Tris practically bouncing on her heels to meet the girl that everyone was talking about. He couldn’t quite hear the conversation between the two girls but he could make out Ella’s gentle laughter and Tris’ warm compliment.

“I am so happy to meet you! I’m Tris Prior. I wanted to come see you before we welcomed the new recruits but I got stuck with paper work, you’re kind of an inspiration to a lot of the girls and women here.” She grinned shyly, her blonde hair was pulled back with a headband and her green eyes look extra large.

“Oh gosh, that’s so kind. Thankyou. I’ve heard about you, you were the year above me. You had the fastest time in beating your fear simulation, I was always amazed at how quickly you could get out.”

That was all Eric heard before she was shuffled away to sit at the table halfway across the room with Tris and Christina and a few of the other female dauntless trainers.

“Dude.. your girlfriend is actually the worst.” Luke pouted, plopping down to sit back in his seat.

Four just chuckled

“I’ll be hearing all about her tonight I’m sure. Tris has been crazy excited to meet her. Looks like Eric here is just going to have to wait his turn like the rest of us.” He clapped a hand to the muscular mans shoulder before turning to Deema to continue there conversation.

“You’re not getting this one Eric.” Elliot said from across the table, an almost angry grimace on his lips as he squinted with narrowed eyes “she’s not going to fall for whatever games you play, she’s smarter than the bimbos you hook up with. Don’t even bother. This ones mine.”

It took everything he had not to lunge across that table and wrap his fingers around the cocky boys throat, he would have given anything to watch the color drain from his skin and his eyes pop out of his head.

But he didn’t.

Eric simply stood up, brushed his pants off and walked directly to the door. Tension radiating off of his shoulders, he couldn’t deal with this right now, he had recruits that couldn’t hit a target if you shoved their face in it, Max was breathing down his back about planning a factionless ambush and Four and Tris wouldn’t stop trying to set him up with “a nice girl.” His life was anything but settled right now.

So four hours later when he was sitting against the open door of the immobile train he nearly murdered the subtle footsteps that he heard moving behind him.

“Deema, I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m not depressed or in need of your mental guidance I’m just tired and I needed a breather. That’s all.”

“Sure is a pretty place to breathe.”

The distinctly feminine voice had him twisting around, he couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes looked like the deep soil that lined his backyard when he was a kid, they were so rich and dark. She moved to sit beside him, her leg pressed against his in the cramped space.

“Deema told me I could find you here. I missed you at training this morning, they stuck me with combat. Good thing though, I suck at weapons.” She chuckled, face turned to the setting sun.

“No shit?” He asked, genuinely surprised. Ella turned to him then nodding loosely.

“God yeah, I can throw a knife like no ones business, that’s easy. It’s the guns and rifles that freak me out. It’s like I see them and panic. They didn’t have many weapons in the factionless. Bombs though.. those are my specialty.” She winked.

“So I’ve heard.” Eric smiled for the first time since he’d left the mess hall, Ella’s gentle and teasing disposition making it easy to relax.

“You have beautiful eyes.”

Blushing was not a word you would ever imagine to use in the same sentence as Eric Coulter but at the tiny warriors words he felt the deep flame of his cheeks spread all the way down to his toes.

“Shut up.” He shoved her shoulder, laughing softly when a dimple bearing smile broke through her face.

“Oh you know it.” She teased “you know how good looking you are, you’re the talk of Dauntless. The brooding trainer with the fire ash eyes. Girls drool when you walk by Mr. Coulter.”

She was staring at him now, he could feel her gaze on his skin eyes tracing his tattoos.. examining him, inspecting him.

“I can’t figure you out.” She whispered.

His eyes snapped to hers

“I’m an open book.” He joked, watching her as she watched him.

“They say you’re mean.. cruel even. I was going to stay away from you. Lord knows I’ve been around enough angry in the last few years. But you’re not cruel..”

“Yes I am.” He cut her off, for the first time in his life he regretted how the truth felt falling from his lips.

“Not to me. I know cruel and you aren’t cruel. determined, strong.. maybe jaded and bitter but not cruel.” She looked away, eyes trained on the peach and honey setting sun.

“And you?” His fingers brushed her knee before settling over the smooth black fabric. “Are you cruel?”

Her eyes followed his fingers, before she dropped her own hand over his. She shrugged tiny shoulders and looked up

“I don’t know what I am anymore.”

He didn’t like that look on her face, confusion, hurt...lost. He moved calloused fingers to soothe the scrunch between her eyebrows, trying to ease just a little of her anxiety.

“You’re Ellarose, you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

She stared for a moment, a flash of something In Her eyes before she nodded just slightly

“Tris invited me to dinner at her and fours apartment tonight, I said I would go. She said you might be there?” It wasn’t a question, he would be there.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there.”

He wasn’t missing a chance to be around her

He couldn’t.

#divergent #divergent eric #eric coulter #eric x oc #insurgent #tris and four #eric x oc imagine #eric coulter imagine #eric fanfic #eric coulter fanfiction #eric x oc fanfic #allegiant #divergent imagine #maia mitchell #the fosters #good trouble #jai courtney #shailene woodley #riverdale

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sasha-whos-askin-racket · 5 years

Text

A Study In Suspicion (A Johnlock Fic)

Synopsis: We get A Study In Scarlet from John’s perspective, but what exactly does Sherlock think of this whole thing? A sullen, heavily subdued army doctor, shared lodgings in the heart of London and a small English bulldog puppy - what’s not to love? AKA, I finally let these boys be (sorta) happy for once.

Sherlock’s opening thought, as he met Doctor John Hamish Watson for the first time, was that the man stood in front of him seemed more dead than alive. His eyes were drawn to the heavy wooden cane the man clutched in his right hand, and the way his left lay flat on the table top in front of him in silent support of his trembling frame. The slight twist in the way he held himself was indicative of a wound to the hip or knee, or potentially even both - he’d noticed a rather obvious limp in the man’s gait as he’d entered. Next was the left arm, which had been removed from the table and tucked in to his side, clearly also injured, but held in such a position it seemed he’d sustained a shoulder wound that severely impeded mobility. Whether or not capacity for movement in that joint would improve was only a matter of time, but for now it made a sorry sight. Next, and perhaps the most shocking, was the gaunt frame. Holmes felt for sure if it wasn’t for his thick coat, he’d be able to count every bone in the man’s body without having to try. His moustache probably weighed more than the rest of him combined. His face and hands were tanned, but the strip of skin sliding out from beneath his baggy - surely that hadn’t once fitted him - shirt cuff was pale, almost translucent, and Holmes would say with extreme confidence that Doctor Watson had recently been - if not still was - immensely ill. Time, trust and a few anecdotes later, Sherlock’s unasked question was granted an answer - typhoid fever.

As he stood before him on that first morning, Watson also reeked of a habitual ingrained nervousness. Even a sound as simple and subdued as footsteps on the floor above had his eyes flickering for the nearest available exit. Mentally, Holmes was already tallying up potential problems - the Irregulars slamming doors too hard, him dropping books onto the table, maybe something as simple as him playing the violin without warning. A door closed somewhere above them, and Holmes had to bite back a remark about fetching the poor doctor a chair before he fainted from the mere magnitude of his flinches alone. Still, he seemed capable enough, and Holmes never wasted an opportunity, so he strolled across the room and shook the doctor’s hand, albeit with slightly less enthusiasm than was normal for him. The doctor made a few comments, those which stood out to Holmes the most being “I object to row because my nerves are shaken” and “I have another set of vices when I am well”, which he made a mental note of before turning his attention back to his experiment. Based on first deductions alone, he’d be happy to accept Watson as his lodger, as long as Watson was happy to do the same.

They met the following day, and inspected the rooms together. Watson was a slow, laborious walker, quiet, never one with a smile, but affable enough in the way that he spoke that Holmes found himself liking this sickly veteran of war for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He made the necessary arrangements with the landlady and bade them both farewell.

Returning the following evening with the first load of his equipment, he was surprised to find Watson curled on the sofa in the corner, having already unpacked all of his modest furnishings. “I’m afraid I don’t think I’ll be of very much use to you.” The doctor voiced. “My military payment at present is eleven shillings and sixpence a day, though that’ll stop in nine months. I’m hoping to open a practice not far from here to make a living, though that’s not advisable in my current state.”

Setting down his box, Sherlock waved a hand airily. “Take as much time as you need to convalesce. I’ll gladly supply you with anything you require for the time being.” Watson had started to protest, but Holmes waved him off. “It’s no trouble, really. I should be able to bring in a suitable amount for the both of us, and if not, I’m sure there are some things we can do without. Now, if it’s of no issue to you, I’d like to play my violin for a while?” Watson allowed that, sinking back into the cushions of the settee and listening to Sherlock play a series of complex melodies he’d later come to learn were of his own making.

The first few days passed by regularly uneventfully. Holmes saw few clients, and though he disliked having to evict John from his position on the sofa and send him away to his room, it was a necessary evil. He’d yet to succeed in getting much conversation out of the soldier, which was fine enough on its own - Holmes wasn’t a particularly sociable man either unless the mood took him, which it rarely did. What he saw as an issue was that Watson, who did very little other than curl himself up in an easy chair and sleep away the hours, wasn’t much improving. Sure, his clothes slowly but definitively began to fit better, he could be encouraged to read a little from the morning paper now and then, and he made respectful enough conversation with Lestrade when there was no other option, but Sherlock still had yet to see him smile, or even show anything akin to the capacity to feel any emotion other than unadulterated apathy.

It was perhaps this realisation on Holmes’s part that began the chain of events that concluded with Holmes setting down a stout brown and white puppy on the rug in front of the fireplace and nodding at it proudly. John, for his part, had the grace to nod approvingly for a few seconds before sinking back into the nest he’d constructed for himself. “What is that, Holmes?” “It’s a dog.” “What on earth do you want a dog for?” “It isn’t mine. It’s yours.” “What on earth do I want a dog for? Are we even allowed dogs?” “...I didn’t think to ask. Choose a name for it while I go and confer with Mrs. Hudson.”

John was left staring at the puppy sprawled in front of the fire place in bemusement. What in the name of all that was holy had convinced Holmes to buy that thing was beyond him, but he supposed the man had his reasons. What was it Holmes had said he was supposed to do now, name the bloody creature? It was short, sort of stout, even for a puppy, and it watched him lazily through half-closed eyes. “Boswell?” Watson asked the dog. “No? Okay then. Paget? Maybe not. Shelley? Semmelweis? Gladstone?” At that last one, the dog rolled over, looking at Watson expectantly. John nodded. “Okay, Gladstone it is, then.”

The door swung open, and Holmes entered, arms spread triumphantly. “We can keep the dog.” “Really?” “Indeed. I’m glad Mrs. Hudson’s fond of you.” “What do you mean?” “She was reluctant at first. Asked about you then, said she’d seen a lot of me and my associates recently, but hadn’t heard a thing from you. I told her you were still ill, and rather frustrated, and I’d bought the dog to cheer you up.” “And did you buy him to cheer me up?” “I did. Give you something to do with your time, other than sleep your life away.” “Holmes, you know you have to walk dogs, right? I can barely make it from one side of the room to the other as it stands.” “Ah.” Holmes pointed at Watson. “I know. I’ll walk it, until you’re up to it. Don’t look at me like that, I’m well aware you aren’t a charity case. What did you name the damn thing anyway?” “Gladstone.” At the sound of his name, the puppy scampered across the room and leapt into John’s lap, circling on the spot for a moment before settling down on the doctor’s stomach. Holmes pulled a face but didn’t say anything, supposing he probably should have known it would be something intelligent like that.

“Holmes, what sort of dog is he anyway?” Watson asked as he lazily stroked the top of Gladstone’s head. At the question that he’d been waiting for the entire time, Holmes turned to hang his coat on the hook by the door, hiding his expression and trying to keep his voice as steady as he could. “It’s a bull pup.” He’d been hoping for some sort of reaction at that, a sigh, a scoff, anything at all really.

John’s reaction was infinitely better; he laughed.

#sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #my writing

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lfthinkerwrites · 5 years

Text

A Riddle For a Bat, pt. 13

Title: A Riddle for a Bat

Fandom: Batman

Pairing: Riddlebat

Rating: T

Chapter Summary: Edward comes face to face with Rupert Thorne and begins to play the most dangerous game of all.

Previous Chapters: 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12

AO3 Link

"You're sounding a lot better, Eddie. More like your old self. Guess Vreeland dragging you to that society thing yesterday was good for you after all."

Edward smiled as he cradled the phone between his right shoulder and ear. "I suppose it was." In more ways than one. Getting out into the world, even the glitzy high society world, seemed to do wonders for him. Seeing him again played a sizable role in that as well, even if he wasn't sure what to make of that encounter. "I feel alive again, that's for sure. I'm ready to get back to work."

"Good to hear. What about Batdick? You're sure you don't want me and Deirdre to hunt him down and kick his ass for you?"

"Nina dearest, even if you two could find him, you couldn't take him. I did witness him throw a man twice your size across a room. Besides, I'm over it." Well, that may not be completely true, but Edward had spent enough time moping about his office. It was time to begin the investigation again. Thorne had spent the last few weeks consolidating his power. He'd be feeling secure, confident, perhaps overly confident. Perhaps now that he had no rival, he'd finally make a mistake. Edward needed to put thoughts of Batman and what he'd learned about him behind for now. "Enough of that. Have you and Deirdre heard anything?"

"A lot of the old Falcone and Maroni guys joined up with Thorne's crew, at least the grunts did. Other than that, not much. Thorne's always been a tough nut to crack."

Edward leaned back in his office chair and groaned. "Tell me about it." A knock on his door drew his attention. "Nina, there's someone at the door, I have to go. Just keep your eyes and ears open. I'll be by later tonight."

"See you later tonight, Eddie." Edward hung up the cell phone and placed it down on his desk before getting out of his chair. He took a moment to smooth back his hair and adjust his purple vest before he crossed the room to open the door. He'd finally settled back into his morning grooming routine today. He needed to look his best for his clients.

He opened the door and saw an attractive, dark-haired young woman wearing a short red skirt and red suit jacket practically leaning against his doorway. Her almond shaped eyes looked him up and down and her lips upturned in a smirk. "Edward Nigma?" she asked.

"That would be me," Edward answered, trying to ignore how the woman seemed to be devouring him with her eyes. The most awkward part of the job by far. "How can I help you, Ms....?"

"Call me Candace," the woman said, extending her hand out to him. Edward gently took it and gave it a shake before he withdrew his hand.

"Very well Candace," Edward said. "How may I be of assistance to you today?"

"Actually, I'm here on behalf of my boss. He's heard quite a bit about you."

Edward arched an eyebrow. This certainly was unusual. "Does your employer have a name?"

"Rupert Thorne."

Instantly, Edward felt the room drop a few degrees. "Rupert...Thorne?" He had to be dreaming. That was it. There was no way this woman had just come in out of the blue to lead him directly to Rupert Thorne.

"The one and only," Candace smirked.

Edward wet his lip. If Thorne had found out about him and wanted him dead, he wouldn't be sending this woman to do it. It wouldn't hurt to play along. "And just what does the illustrious Rupert Thorne want me to assist him with?"

"You can ask him yourself," Candace gestured to the front door. "I have a car waiting to take you to him. Interested?"

For a long moment, Edward considered this. This would take him straight into Thorne's lair. Kristen would be worried. Nina and Deirdre would call him an idiot. He would be furious. But. But he'd been waiting for this opportunity for five years. When would it ever come again? "Give me just one moment." He walked to his hat rack to put on his flashiest jacket. He also grabbed the cane hung up on the hook next to it. After he put on his bowler hat he flashed Candace what he hoped was his most dazzling smile. "Lead the way."

Edward barely acknowledged Candace on the drive further in Gotham's downtown. He barely took in the sight of the stone building the car had stopped in front of or noticed the plush carpet of the hallway she and two men led him down. He barely heard the light conversation they made over the beating of his own heart. Finally, they stopped in front of a solid oak door. Candace at the front of the group opened it. "We're back, Rupe!" Edward followed Candace and the two men inside and he froze.

There was a man sitting behind a large desk. An older, overweight man with white hair, wearing a black business suit. He looked up when Candace called him and fixed the group with an oily smile. This was the man Edward had spent the last five years of his life working to bring down. This was Rupert Thorne. "Come in, come in!" he beckoned them into his office with a gesture of his palm. Edward wasn't aware that he was stepping forward until he was directly in front of Thorne's desk. Thorne looked up with a glint in his beady black eyes. "Ah, you must be the famous Edward Nigma," Thorne addressed him in a way that was almost charming. He reached his hand out to shake. "Pleased to meet you."

In one second, Edward could reach across the desk and strike Thorne. How often had he lain awake at night, wishing for that? If he'd come armed, he could have delivered a fatal blow to the man before Candace and his guards had time to react. He'd be killed but wouldn't it be worth it to make sure Thorne was put out of this city's misery for good? Edward plastered on a cool smile before he accepted the handshake. "The pleasure's all mine. It's not every day that I get to meet someone as distinguished as yourself." It made Edward almost cringe to be so subservient to the man, but appearances needed to be kept. He rubbed the head of his cane and surreptitiously pressed the record button on the underside of the cane's head. This entire conversation would be recorded. "Now, your very charming assistant said that you requested to meet with me."

Thorne dropped his hand and sat back in his plush red chair. "Yes," he said. "As I've said, I've read quite a lot about you Mr. Nigma. You've made a bit of a name for yourself solving seemingly impossible cases."

Edward made a show of shrugging. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but I am the cleverest men in this city. As well as the best dressed."

Thorne let out a deep laugh. "Well, you're certainly sure of yourself! I like that. To come to the point, I'm in need of your services."

A cold dread settled in Edward's gut. In need of his services...what could that possibly be? "Go on."

Thorne leaned forward then, steepling his fat fingers. "There's one great mystery that no one in this town's ever been able to solve, but I think you can. I'd like you to figure out who the man is behind Batman's mask."

Edward felt as if he was in a daze. Batman. Of all the men and all the things Thorne could ask him for, it had to be Batman. It made sense though. With Falcone and Maroni gone, the only person left to oppose Thorne was Batman. At least, that's what Thorne believed. There was another and he was standing right in front of the gangster's stupid face.

"Mr. Nigma?"

Edward slightly shook his head. "Batman's true identity," he pretended to muse. He rubbed his chin. "I have to admit, that's a question I've pondered myself for some time. To solve that would be quite the challenge."

"So are you interested?"

Edward looked down to study Thorne's expression. He looked right back up, his eyes almost boring into Edward's. He smiled. "Mr. Thorne, I am at your disposal."

Thorne smiled. A cold smile that wouldn't be out of place on a serial killer. In Edward's opinion, Thorne may as well be one. "Excellent! Now, about your fee-"

Edward abruptly raised his hand. "Forget it." He would be dead and buried before he ever accepted Thorne's blood money. The confused expression on Thorne's face however needed to be dealt with. "Beg your pardon, Mr. Thorne, but with something like this, the challenge is its own reward. We can discuss a fee after I deliver Batman's identity to you."

Thorne smiled again and Edward knew he had him. "Mr. Nigma, I think this could be the beginning of a great partnership."

Edward smiled himself. If the fool only knew.

The girls were, as Edward could have predicted, less than thrilled when Edward told them the news that night at Kristen's apartment. Kristen herself sat at her table, picking at the sleeves of her blouse. "Eddie," she said at last. "I'm sorry, but-"

"This is the stupidest damn idea you've ever had," Deirdre piped up from her seat on the couch next to Nina. "What happens if Thorne finds out you were in GCPD?"

"If he didn't figure it out before he had me brought to his office, he's not going to now," Edward said, pacing across Kristen's living room. "Besides, how better to collect evidence against Thorne than from his own mouth? If he trusts me, he may be candid about his actions the last few weeks."

"What about Batman though?" Nina asked. "I get that your pissed at him and I don't blame you, but are you seriously going to go along with trying to figure out who he is?"

"No," he admitted. "But Thorne doesn't need to know that. All I have to do is look busy and he won't have anything to complain about."

"For a few days, maybe," Kristen said. "Eddie, Thorne didn't get to be where he is by being an idiot. He's going to figure out that you're playing him eventually."

"Eventually," Edward said. He wasn't about to deny that Kristen had a point, but he was so close, how could he give up now? "But that's only a problem if I can't get evidence. And I will get evidence."

Kristen shook her head. "Eddie, I really think you should talk to-"

"He's the one that pushed me away, Kristen!" Edward shouted. He saw her flinch and instantly calmed himself down. He sighed. "I'll be alright. I promise."

The three women exchanged an uneasy look.

Tonight was the night, Bruce thought. He drove the Batmobile down Broad and turned onto Main. It was a quiet night on patrol tonight, as it had been for the past two weeks. The relative peace gave Bruce time to think about tonight, about what exactly he would say to Edward when he saw him. He'd apologize, of course. Offer to reform their partnership, if that was what Edward wanted. Bruce swallowed a bit. Tell Edward what he was beginning to feel for him. Everything else was up to Edward.

"Anything interesting going on out there?" Dick's voice rang through the Batmobile's communications.

Bruce leaned forward to press a button. "Nothing so far. Just a mugging and some vandalism."

"Wow. Maybe we should think of retiring. So, have you seen Eddie yet, or?"

Bruce arched an eyebrow. "No, not yet. And since when did you start calling him Eddie?"

Dick laughed. "Well, if we're going to be working together, might as well get comfortable, right? So I'm thinking we could have him be our intel guy. He's still got that informant network that could come in handy."

Bruce hadn't thought that far ahead, but the idea of Edward joining their team was appealing in more ways than one. "I think you're just saying that to get out of intel duty."

"You really are the World's Greatest Detective."

Bruce was about to say something when he caught a glimpse of light in the rearview mirror. He turned around slightly and bit back a curse. The Batsignal was on in the night sky. "I got to go, Dick. I'll check in in a bit." He made a sharp left turn and drove back towards GCPD.

When he arrived on the rooftop of GCPD, Gordon wasn't alone. Standing beside him, clutching her jacket close to her, was Kristen Kringle. Bruce's heart dropped. "What happened?"

Gordon gently put his hand on Kristen's shoulder. "Tell him what you told me."

Kristen took a step forward, her hazel eyes downcast, and said the two words Bruce feared the most. "It's Eddie." She bit her lip. "I think he's in real trouble."

Edward stretched his arms above his head and popped his back with a grunt. He'd just spent the last few hours reviewing the audio he'd taken at Thorne's office and backing it up to his computer. Nothing that directly connected him to the killings of course but it was a start. He'd be meeting Thorne back in his office the next morning at 9 on the dot. Hopefully, he'd slip up then. In the meantime, Edward would have to be careful just how he went about the business with Batman, how to avoid giving away what he knew. He sighed. More than anything, he wished the vigilante was with him now, that they were back to working this case together. He felt the cool wind against his back and he shivered a bit. Then he froze. The window to his fire escape was shut when he came back from Kristen's.

"Edward."

Edward jumped out of his chair and turned around. Batman was there, standing behind his desk. Edward felt almost every emotion competing for dominance in his mind. Elation, at seeing him again. Anger, for being abandoned by him. Confusion, desire...Edward furrowed his brow when he saw how tense the vigilante was, how his fists were clenched. He was angry. "Edward," he spoke again. "Just what in the Hell are you doing?"

Edward almost took a step back before his own ire was roused. Batman was angry at him? That was rich. "I see Kristen got word to you, somehow," he said, crossing his arms. He really should have expected that. "Nice to know that all I had to do to get your attention was to make tangible progress on the case."

"You're throwing yourself in danger, Edward!" Batman shouted at him. He really was angry. "What are you thinking!?"

"I'm thinking that this is the best shot I have at getting evidence against Thorne! O'Reilly's dead and I doubt either of us had any luck connecting him to Thorne!"

"That doesn't mean that you have to take risks like this!" Batman lowered his voice and the timber of it was very familiar to Edward. "Don't you think your life is more important than putting Thorne away?"

He sounded almost stricken and that made Edward's heart beat just a bit faster. He shook his head and stepped forward. "You told me that night when you found out about why I left GCPD that you understood me," he said. He closed the distance between the two of them and impulsively took a gloved hand into his own. "I think now I understand you. You think that you're trying to protect me. I suppose I appreciate the thought, even if the way you go about it is less than ideal. But you're so busy trying to prevent me from getting hurt that you seem to be forgetting that I survived for five years outside of GCPD with nothing but my own wits. You need to respect me as much as protect me."

"Edward-"

Edward held a hand up. "Let me finish. I want to work with you on this, more than anything. You said that you trusted me, and I believe you, but you need to prove it."

There was a long pause before Batman spoke. Soon enough, Batman moved his hands out of Edward's grasp and onto his shoulders. "Three days," he said finally. "I'll give you three days to do this. I'll be by every night to check in with you and at the first hint of any danger, I'm pulling you out. Understand?" Edward nodded. Batman sighed again. "I don't like this."

"It's not strictly speaking what I'd want either," Edward said. "But I can do it."

"I know you can," Batman said again. He dropped his hands and went back towards the open window. "I'll be back tomorrow. Be careful."

Edward nodded. "Thank you."

Batman hesitated as if there was something else he wanted to say, then he left, disappearing into the night.

#riddlebat #a riddle for a bat #ed #ed what are you doing

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theboondogglepub · 6 years

Text

Call it 8 Bells

The second bell rang, signifying the second hour of the day. Sailors have coined a phrase they’re more than liberal in abusing when talking about their use of spirits. “Call it 8 bells”, they say. It means to have a drink before high noon even hit the day, and is usually said as an apology for early drinking as it’s poor form to do so. This phrase is only tangentially connected with the here and now, as someone was drinking and it was at 2 two bells in the day, meaning it was still night. It was the darkest part of the night, moonless as well, and the sea water shifted and crashed against the weathered dock by the Lominsan portside. There with flask in hand he walked, Corsa’ir Boon.

An odd name of course, but not one without purpose. Corsa’ir Boon is a name for a Miqo’te Keeper. In the Keeper custom (Keepers of the Moon is the proper genealogy delineation) a son is named quite literally after their mother, and given an affectation of sorts to define birth order. Corsa’ir called a woman named Corsa Boon his mother for reasons that are too boring to get into here. As she looked upon him as her sixth son, an “ir” is added to whomever is the sixth son. Therefore Corsa’ir Boon strolled on the low dock of Limsa Lominsa, flask of unknown spirits in hand. He seemed happy with how his face displayed a grin, but something in his eye carried a glint of worry. Limsa Lominsa was far and away different from the home of pirates and underhanded ne’er-do-wells that once populated it, but it was still not a safe place to travel in the dark hours, especially alone.

Boon tightened his coat around his chest, the red leather and padding protecting him from the nightly cold. He could see his own hot breath in the chill air, a cold wind brought in by the roiling sea. A fog had descended on the docks that night, a mist thick as pea soup making far lights fuzzy and anyone else a blur of unknown shapes without distinction. Closing his flask the miqo’te took out a poorly hand-rolled cigarette from under a vest beneath his coat, and tucked it neatly between his lips. Boon’s gloved hands patted down his body, looking for a match and finding none. Not that it mattered though, Corsa’ir was finally where he wanted to go. He could light his cigarette later.

“Ello Balmy,” Corsa’ir said. He had walked away from the nightly noise of the Lominsan city, away from the lights and sounds and people drinking and generally enjoying their evening hours. It was quiet here, and ominously so. There was only Boon and one other, an old man of waning years sitting by the dock peacefully fishing in silence. “You got what I asked yeh about?” Normally Boon’s voice dripped with a thick and incomprehensible accent, but for business matters it was played down noticeably. Even with unfriendly and illicit business such as this, Boon kept that rule of business in mind, as rules kept his life stable. He was a man who followed rules, both his own, and especially those given to him by others. Boon waited on the man fishing by the docks, waiting for the business to continue so he could get what was apparently asked for.

Even in the fog Boon could make out the man’s features. ‘Balmy’ as he was called was so named because he couldn’t stand extremes. For a shady underworld dealer in his silver years, Balmy was great at one thing that any of his friends could always count on. If you needed information, Balmy was the de facto person to go to. He had seen it all, and it showed on Balmy’s weathered face, scarred chin, missing stump of a right arm, and matted unkempt hair. “Balmy?” Corsa’ir said again, curious as to why his old friend had nothing to say. Balmy was, and it is important to distinctly use the word “was” instead of “is” to describe him in most ways; Balmy was a good friend of Corsa’ir. Now Balmy is dead, and Corsa’ir knew it when with just a poke the old man fell over onto the dock, the red practically caked on his linen vest and pants. He’d been propped up, and the rigor had already set in such a way as to make the old man a posable doll, suitable for bait. Bait Corsa’ir had fallen for, hook, line and sinker.

“Hello Corsa’ir.” An impish voice said in the fog. It was the voice of a child, a boy of no more than 10 summers. Though it was a young voice, it dripped with venom and fervor for blood, hidden right beneath a surface of fake innocence. “You’ve been a busy boy. We know you’ve been a busy boy. We’re not happy you’ve been a busy boy.” A single large shadow appeared from the misty fog. A shadow that quickly separated into two shadows (one large and one small), and started to coalesce from the fog of the docks into two people, their footsteps either utterly silent or outdone by the cacophony of the waves. One was a child to match the unhappy voice. A hingan boy of no more than 10 with mussy brown hair, wearing clean short pants and a vest. The other was a massive rotund shape of an elezen man clutching a single black cane in his hands. He wore a top hat, looked to be of noble birth and long age, and smiled, saying nothing.

“Well then,” Corsa’ir said, looking at child and adult who approached him. “Sen,” Corsa’ir nodded to the boy. “Pierrot,” Corsa’ir then nodded to the fat elezen, respectfully. “Good t’ see you again.” Corsa’ir waved at them both very sheepishly. This uh-” Corsa’ir waved his right hand behind him at the slumped over body of his former living fisherman friend. “-this your doing?”

“Very observant of you.” Sen the young boy said. His companion Pierrot said nothing. “We heard through a grapevine you destroyed the Honey Bee Inn yesterday.” Sen seemed to keep a relaxed pose, his tiny hands in his tiny pockets. His tiny boy face had a red nose from the cold, and his eyes had a dominating appeal to them, one that betrayed the look of his age.

“Destroyed is goin’ just a bit far don’t yeh think?” Corsa’ir said, again patting himself down for a match for his still unlit cigarette. “I just had a meeting with Fred about a job, and some blokes decided they wanted to fight me over some of the details.”

“Details like the Grail?” Sen said, throwing Corsa’ir a match from his own tiny boy vest.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Corsa’ir said, feigning to miss catching the match. He did lean over to pick it up, using the opportunity to shift something in his right coat sleeve as the left reached down. Boon’s voice kept a bubbly, idiot’s tonation as he spoke. “Is the Grail still a thing? I thought that was...ooh. Poof, I guess years off still. Do you lot even still do that?”

“It is in 3 months.” Sen said, changing his pose to one of crossed arms, puffed chest, and straight legs. For a 10 year old, something about how he stood would send shivers down anyone’s spine. “And from what a roegadyn we’d placed at the Bee yesterday night told us, apparently Fred argued with you about it. About the Grail. A Grail you well know is coming up. You were quite…” Sen paused, his boying grin spreading out. “Adamant that you were not going to go.”

“I just said I wasn’t going to participate.” Corsa’ir replied, striking the match off his boot heel. One puff. A second puff. Boon blew a steady stream of smoke out of his mouth. “I didn’t say anything about not going. Besides, I think a certain someone might be there for me to say hello to.”

“You mean Shimi?” Sen said, his eyes narrowing to a half-slint and a wide grin.

Boon’s voice lost it’s bubbly idiot intonation, becoming gravely serious. “Don’t say that name.” A third puff. A second blow of smoke out of his mouth. “Whoever they think they are, they are not Shimi. Shimi’s dead. There will never be another Shimi.”

“Oh Corsa’ir,” Sen grinned like a boy who’d just had his first crush return his affection. “You’ll just have to go to the Grail and see won’t you?” Sen’s brow evened out, and his grin dropped to monotone slit. “And you will be participating as well.” His monotone voice got more forceful. “We insist. We’ll even provide the cover charge.” Sen the boy snapped his fingers, and the smiling elezen Pierrot (and it must be reminded to the reader, Pierrot did not stop smiling this entire time), pulled out a small black box from his black velvet jacket, and opened it to show Corsa’ir the contents. “All you have to do is go to the Grail. Do that, and then we’ll consider your business done with us. For good.”

“And if I refuse?” Corsa’ir took a fourth drag of his cigarette, already down near to the butt.

“Then we’ll come for you.” Sen snapped his fingers, and Pierrot the smiling elezen put the box back in his coat. “You see Corsa’ir, we have one of two directives. To get you to the Grail, or to destroy you. We won’t literally destroy you though, no you aren’t allowed to die. Much as I’d like to pay you back by killing you, we must follow orders.”

Sen took out an envelope from his tiny boy vest, and threw it toward Corsa’ir. “We will beat your body, and ruin your life. Take away everything from you, and break you and everything you’ve tried to cultivate since…” Sen paused. “Since you left his employment.” Who ‘he’ was did not seem to get elaborated on. “We will leave you the broken shell you should have stayed, and will always stay after we are done. We will destroy your life, your many lovers, your possessions, and then when we are done?” Sen stepped forward toward Corsa’ir, and Corsa’ir took a step back. “We will make you watch as they,” They also not being elaborated on, “-are turned from bright happy adventurers and reduced to things. Less than things. We will make them all into garbage to be used and thrown out like so much refuse. And we will do it again and again Corsa’ir.” Sen stepped forward again, and Corsa’ir took another step back. The rear bud of a cigarette in Boon’s mouth fell from his lips in the moment, and Sen picked it up. The child took a drag of it before throwing it away. “Because we both know what’s most precious to the consummate loner such as yourself. Friends. We will make you utterly alone Corsa’ir, until you are begging us to turn you into the same tool, the same ‘thing’, the same trash as you once were.” Sen took one more step forward, and Corsa’ir tripped and fell on his rear, lost for words or retorts in the moment. “But we will deny you even that. Because even that would be a reprieve from the hell deserved of you.”

Corsa’ir just sat on the dock a moment before trying to find a word to return the threat with. Sen turned on his heel, and began to walk away toward his companion Pierrot with a slight bounce in his gait. Boon finally found the words lumping up in his throat. “Is that the message she sent you to give me? This new Shimi?”

“Oh.” Sen stopped and turned slightly. “Nope! Sorry I forgot. Thanks for reminding me Corsa’ir. This is the message.” One moment Sen stood beside Pierrot, and the next a black blur shuffled the smoke and darkness and splashing waters of the dark. In the third moment, all three taking less than an eye blink to perceive, Pierrot the smiling rotund Elezen hovered above the miqo’te, his fat shadow dark and looming, his right arm extended down. Boon followed the arm to the hilt of a silver rapier, and then the hilt to the thin filament blade, then the blade down to his own expertly pierced abdomen.

“Hrrk--” Corsa’ir swung his right arm, a hidden dagger flying out of the sleeve and swiping at Pierrot. He missed. Another eye blink, and Pierrot was back standing next to the small child. The rapier was still inside and through Corsa’ir body. Boon pulled at it, feeling the exit wound embedded into the dock itself, the wood creaking as the weapon was pulled at. “You-” Corsa’ir coughed, and blood came with it. “Said you weren’t going to kill me.”

“Oh we didn’t.” Sen said, and Pierrot continued to smiled. “You know full well how exact my friend here is. It won’t be fatal, nor will the poison that coats it.” Sen gave Corsa’ir a feint bow. “But it will be more than enough of a message to you. Go to the Grail, participate, or we come back. What’s the word you pirate types say,” Sen paused a moment to think in a mock expression. “ Do you ‘savvy’?”

Boon nodded. “I-- hrrk--” He coughed more blood. “Savvy.”

“Good. Fare thee well Corsa’ir. It was good seeing you again!” Sen and Pierrot walked away into the shadows, their footsteps again either non-existent, or so quiet as to be overshadowed by the rippling waters of the docks.

Corsa’ir Boon struggled with the rapier that pinned him to the dock, eventually getting it free some five minutes later. As the miqo’te limped off the dock, something came to his mind. “What was it she had said?” He said to no one as he limped and bled along the dock. Boon was thinking of a friend and confidant named A’kata. “A pirate’s life is a short one. Yeah. No kidding Kat.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv rp #roleplay #Corsa'ir Boon #fantasy #Short Story

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stereksecretsanta · 6 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @leothestoryofmylife!

The One with the Broken Radiator

“Oh my god, if you touch your hair one more time, I’m gonna kill you.”

Derek dropped his hand and turned to glare at Cora, who was sprawled lazily across his couch with one hand in a bag of popcorn, the other clutching a beer. “Remind me again why you’re here? I have no recollection of inviting you over.”

“Because you have HBO,” she said, through a mouthful of popcorn. “And I’m family, I don’t need an invitation.”

“Clearly,” Derek muttered. He turned back to the mirror and leaned closer. Was his beard a little uneven on the left side? Shit.

“This is really embarrassing for you, you need to stop. You look fine.”

“Just fine?” Derek asked, then immediately regretted it. Cora burst into laughter and twisted around on the couch so that she was leaning on the back, facing him.

“No, I take it back. You look super hot, and your crush is totally gonna notice you at this party. It’s high school all over again.”

Derek hated her.

“Shut up.”

Cora turned back toward the TV, still laughing. “I don’t get what the big deal is. You like this guy, and he invited you to his holiday party. Just get a little drunk and kiss him.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “It’s not that simple, we work together.”

“You don’t work together, you work for the same giant company in the same giant building. You said yourself that you only see him when you get coffee.”

“But I’m pretty sure he only invited me because I overheard him talking about it.”

Cora groaned, loudly, and slumped down further into the couch cushions. “Just leave, please. Or kill me. Either one.”

Derek double-checked the apartment number in the email that Stiles had sent him, and then slid his phone back into his pocket and shrugged off his jacket. He folded it over his arm and paused in front of the door—was he supposed to knock, or was this one of those parties where you just wandered in?

He tried a knock, a soft one, and the door immediately flung open. The woman leaning in the doorway was petite, with beautiful red hair that curled over her shoulders.

She was also wearing only a bikini.

“Hello,” she purred, with a lovely smile that bordered on predatory. “You must be Derek.”

Derek focused very carefully on her face. “Um, yes. Hi.”

“Lydia!”

Stiles appeared in the doorway, panting a little, and gently shoved the woman—Lydia, presumably—aside. “Derek! Hey. I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Uh, yeah,” Derek said dumbly. “Thanks for inviting me.”

If Derek’s brain had been working at full capacity, he would have chastised himself for such a ridiculous opening line. (Uh, yeah? Really, Derek?) But at the moment he was a little too distracted by Stiles’ nudity.

Stiles was wearing nothing but a pair of green plaid boxers, and honestly, Derek was pretty sure that he would have remembered Stiles mentioning this type of dress code.

His crush started the first time they met a few months ago, when Stiles stumbled into him in the hallway and spilled both of their coffees all over them, and it was already strong enough without knowing that Stiles looked great in a pair of short, fairly tight boxers.

Shit.

“I’m so sorry, dude,” Stiles started, and Derek jerked his head up, praying that his leering at Stiles’ abs wasn’t too obvious, “but our radiator broke, like, just a couple hours ago, so we had to turn this into an impromptu tropical-themed holiday party.”

Derek looked past him into the apartment and took in the mass of semi-clothed people, some of whom were wearing leis. “Oh. Wow, that sucks.”

“Tell me about it. I totally understand if you want to bounce, but we have, uh, alcohol and a lot of cookies…”

He reached up to scratch at his hair, his bicep flexing, and Derek blurted out, “Sure.”

“Awesome!” Stiles’ face lit up, and Derek smiled helplessly back. “Come in, c’mere.”

Stiles’ hand was hot on his forearm, even through Derek’s sweater, and he tried to think of something clever to say. “At least this will automatically be everyone’s most memorable holiday party.”

“An optimist, I love it,” Stiles said, laughing as he led him to a door at the back corner of the small apartment. “So this is my room, you can take off your coat and, uh…well, whatever else you want, I guess.”

His cheeks were red, and Derek smirked. “No pressure.”

Stiles let out a high-pitched laugh and shoved Derek into the room, closing the door behind him. There were clothes literally everywhere, but Derek found a small free space on Stiles’ desk chair. He hung his coat over the back of it and then stripped off his sweater and his shirt, folding them neatly. He thought about it for a minute and then shucked off his jeans, too. Derek would’ve picked different underwear if he knew Stiles was going to see them—he was definitely not that optimistic when he decided on his outfit—but hopefully his novelty candy cane boxers would amuse him, at least.

Derek peeked back outside. It wasn’t a huge party, maybe 30 people or so, all in various states of undress, but he definitely wasn’t going to know anyone at this party besides Stiles and Scott. He probably should have considered that more before he decided to come.

But Scott caught his eye from the kitchen and waved, and Derek nodded back as he picked his way through the crowd toward him. He walked up behind Stiles and touched his shoulder lightly, so as not to startle him.

It didn’t work, though, because he spun around and had to balance himself with his hand on Derek’s arm, his eyes wide. “Oh! You’re back. And you, um—you look like that.” He jerked his eyes back up to Derek’s face. “Nice boxers.”

“Thank you. I’m keeping to half the theme, at least.”

“Not a bad start. We’ll find you a lei, too.”

“Stiles just wanted to make ‘get lei’d’ jokes all night,” Scott explained, and Derek nodded solemnly.

“Of course.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, and Scott gestured to the woman standing next to him. “Derek, this is my girlfriend, Kira. Kira, Derek.”

“Right!” She grinned. “Stiles’ friend from work.”

She winked at him for some reason, and Derek smiled tightly back at her.

“Okay!” Stiles yelped. “Um, drinks. Derek, what can I get for you? Soda, beer? We’re trying to stay on brand, so we’ve also got margaritas and pina coladas, if that’s your jam. We even have the tiny umbrellas.”

“The tiny umbrellas are tempting,” Derek said, making Stiles laugh, “but uh, just a beer?”

He nodded. “Just a beer, coming up.”

Stiles fetched him a beer, and then Derek found himself chatting with Kira, who ended up knowing Cora, of all people, through some boxing class that they took together. She wandered off with Scott a while later, though, and Derek scanned the room until he spotted Stiles talking with two girls in the corner, gesturing expansively.

Derek wasn’t brave enough to go over there and join the conversation, so he downed the rest of his beer and then ducked into a little hallway off the entryway, trying to seek out a little refuge from all the unfamiliar people for a few minutes.

He’d just caught his breath when Stiles ducked around the corner, his face relaxing at the sight of Derek. “There you are!” Stiles touched his shoulder briefly and then yanked his hand back. “You okay, you need anything?”

Derek shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Just—loud, you know? Needed a break.”

He coughed, a little embarrassed, but Stiles immediately nodded. “Oh, no, I totally get it. I usually find myself hiding out in a bathroom by about this time at parties.”

Derek smiled. “I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“Well, it’s right down there if you need it,” he said, and Derek laughed.

It fell silent between them, and Derek watched as Stiles’ thumb fiddled with the lip of his red plastic cup. He wished he had a drink of his own to keep his hands busy.

“I’m really glad you came, by the way,” Stiles blurted suddenly, and Derek smiled tightly, pleased that he was at least attempting to make conversation.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“I was totally afraid you’d say no, it took me a while to work up the courage to ask you.”

What?

“I, uh—” Derek cleared his throat and tried again. “I thought you just asked me because I overheard you and Scott talking about it.”

Stiles blinked at him. “Are you serious? Is my mooning over you not obvious? Because several other people think otherwise, and I’d love to prove them wrong.”

Derek’s brain wasn’t working.

“Your…mooning?”

“My giant crush on you,” Stiles said, flinging his arm wide, “the way I can barely talk to you, the list goes on and on. Does none of that ring a bell?”

Derek’s heart was pounding in his throat, and his brain had suddenly lost the ability to make words.

“Oh, god.” Stiles scratched at his bare chest and grimaced. “I totally just—wow, we’re practically naked and I just cornered you in a hallway, basically, and came onto you. I’m so sorry, dude, I probably just made you really uncomfortable, and I can just—”

Stiles took a step back, but Derek reached out and grabbed his elbow before he could go any farther. “Wait.”

“No, seriously.” Stiles tried to twist away, but Derek held firm. “Let me just go and wallow in my—mmph!”

Kissing someone to stop them from talking was harder and more awkward than it looked on TV, but Derek was willing to make those sorts of sacrifices. Especially when Stiles made a delighted, surprised sound into his mouth and slung an arm around his neck, bringing them closer. Stiles’ bare chest was warm against Derek’s, and Derek set his hand into the curve of Stiles’ low back, his pinky brushing against the waistband of those damn boxers.

“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered, then surged forward to kiss him again. “What—what is happening here.”

“I’ve had a crush on you forever,” Derek confessed, and Stiles groaned as he leaned into him more, pressing him back against the wall. The next kiss was eager, bordering on sloppy, and Stiles’ hand slid into Derek’s hair.

“We should go somewhere.” Stiles’ breath rushed over his lips. “Somewhere that is not here.”

“But this is your party,” Derek said, amused, and Stiles hung his head with a groan.

“Okay, first of all, it’s my and Scott’s party,” he said, then made a face. “Mine and Scott’s? They both sound weird. Whatever.” He waved his hand, and Derek let himself stare at his shoulders like he’d been wanting to do all night. “And second of all, 80 percent of the reason I threw this party was to have an excuse to invite you to something.”

Derek blinked. That was…surprising. “Was inviting someone for drinks just too old-fashioned for you?”

“As if I’d be brave enough to do that,” Stiles scoffed. “That’s like—no way. You could have said no, and then I would have been crushed.”

“I just kissed you in your hallway,” Derek pointed out. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

“Well I know that now!” he said, then paused and awkwardly waved at some girl who squeezed past them into the bathroom. “Um, so about leaving the hallway?”

“Drinks?” Derek murmured against his lips, and Stiles laughed.

“Fine, yes, c’mon, let’s go.”

He took Derek’s hand and led him across the living room to his room, which was thankfully empty.

“Was the radiator thing planned, too?” Derek asked, and Stiles snorted.

“Um, no. I mean, not that it’s totally a bad thing.” His hand stroked down from Derek’s chest to his abs. “Believe me, no complaints here. But no, we thought about cancelling, but I don’t have your number.”

“We should fix that.”

Derek stepped into his jeans, and Stiles grinned at him over his shoulder from where he was standing in front of a dresser, rifling through the top drawer. “When I was thinking about different ways this party would go, I didn’t picture you putting your clothes on in my bedroom.”

“So how else did you picture it going?”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open a little bit, then he shook his head and pointed at him. “No. Put your clothes on faster, please. Because if you don’t I’m gonna be too tempted to have sex with you right here, with a party on the other side of the wall, and I’m too old to do that.”

Derek obediently shrugged his shirt over his shoulders and started buttoning it up. “Well, I have an apartment that does not have a party in it right now.”

Stiles yanked on a hoodie and grabbed Derek’s hand. “Fantastic. Happy fucking holidays.”

#leothestoryofmylife #stereksanta14 #*fic17 #*gifts17

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