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nolita-fairytale · 8 months

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what it would be like meeting mikey berzatto as the most important person in carmy's life:

a/n: ok so it is in fact canon in my 'make my heart surrender' series that the main character never got to meet mikey. however, i've been thinking a lot about what it would be like if she had met him when she and carmy were working together in new york so i wrote a lil somethin' about it. it can absolutely be read as a standalone piece with a pastry!chef reader.

takes place october 2021; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

trigger warnings: drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression

how you end up meeting mikey:

halloween weekend of 2021. mikey ends up in new york city for the weekend because he followed a weekend fling for a party. they got into a huge fight over who knows what, and he finds himself in new york city, figuring he might as well go see his brother.

it's a busy night at the new-york-city-fine-dining-establishment-that-shall-not-be-named, carmy is knee deep in expediting while the pastry side just happens to be overstaffed.

your general manager, kate, comes in, letting them know that there's a man outside who's asking for carmy. "he says he's your brother." "my brother?" while carmy doesn't think he can step away, in one shared look, you decide to go since you're his best friend -- the only one he trusts to handle it anyways.

you head out to the front of the restaurant to address the situation finding michael standing outside of the restaurant, pacing on the sidewalk. you recognize him from photos, but he looks different, and it's not hard to figure out that he's kind of strung out -- high on something, though you're uncertain of what.

"you're not carm." "no, i'm not. sorry, but carmy couldn't come out. so he sent me." "shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" "i don't think he was expecting you." you watch as michael's eyebrows rise in reaction to your comment. "he would if he could. it's just... we're doing 400 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so." disappointedly, as if he's accepted that he's not going to see carmy after all, he says, "yeah yeah okay... i didn't know i'd be here either. i just, i -- i gotta catch a flight anyways. will you let him know that mikey stopped by?" "of course."

by the time you get back in the kitchen, you want to protect carmy from the state michael was in so you don't mention the fact that he was high. "what did he want?" "just wanted to stop by. i think he uh... found himself in the city. surprise trip or something." but carmy doesn't completely buy it, instead, focuses, head down on finishing dinner service.

at the end of the night, carmy offers to walk you home, so the two of you head out of the restaurant, eager to unwind from a long night. as you're leaving, michael's still waiting outside of the restaurant and he doesn't look great -- looks like he's coming down from whatever you assume he took.

"michael, what're you doing here?" carmy asks, in shock that he's even here in the first place. "thought i'd come surprise you." "i mean, what're you doing here? in new york?" mikey sighs, a smirk on his face as he answers with: "never trust chicks on motorcycles, carm. they'll leave you high and dry in a brooklyn loft for a few good lines of coke. he chuckles. and while he doesn't exactly find it funny, carmy makes his best effort to try and laugh too, it coming out more like a dry exhale. mikey pivots, as if he's putting on a well-practiced happy face, though there's a sadness in your eyes that you think may haunt you for the rest of your life.

"i'm sorry. where the fuck are my manners? i'm mikey. mikey berzatto. i'm this jagoff's brother." you introduce yourself, and mikey's enthusiastically corralling you to grab a drink with him. carmy keeps looking over at you as if he's checking in, trying to get a read on you as he hesitates to answer. cautiously, you agree, wanting carmy to spend time with his brother. "one drink," he warns mikey.

the three of you make your way to a bar across the street that's open late, and as soon as michael has his first drink, it's like he's a completely different person. he's charming, larger than life, quite the storyteller and you see a side of carmy that you've never seen before. as you watch him listen to his brother, you can see just how much he admires his older brother. while you know carmy is hurt that michael barely calls or makes an effort to keep in touch, sitting here with him now, you can see the way that carmy looks at him -- like he put the stars, the moon, and the sun in the sky. there's a deep admiration and he's almost childlike in the way that he looks up to him.

after the first round, you head to bathroom, wanting to give him and mikey the time. carmy had promised one drink, but you're open to staying if he wants more time with his brother.

"this your girl, carm" "mikey, stop it." "then please tell me you're hittin' that." "michael!" carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice as he does. "are you fuckin' serious right now? what, you're teling me you're not?" "she's.... my friend." "shit. wish i had a friend like that. ya friends or are ya... you know... friends?" carmy just shakes his head, jaw clenched, glaring at michael, wishing he'd stop. "shit, i thought i taught you better than that, bear." "just friends. i'm serious, mike. cut it out." "oh come on! the chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. and i can tell that you like her. i'm not blind, bear. i see the way you-."

it's that sentence that pushes carmy in a way that he doesn't like at all. "don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life." "carm-." "can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?" "well, if you ever bothered to come home. you know mom's been askin' about you. never fuckin' call her-." "oh don't bring mom into this!"

when you return from the bathroom, there is a palpable tension between the two of them that you're not sure how to navigate the thick silence stewing with things left unsaid.

"everything okay?" you ask.

"i think we should go," carmy grits out, clearly upset over the conversation that just transpired between them. "uh... yeah, okay." "it was nice meetin' you sweetheart," mikey grunts, an empty shot glass that wasn't there previously on the bar top. carmy noticeably rolls his eyes at mikey's comment as you grab your things and close out your tab.

on the walk home, you ask: "you wanna talk about it?" "not really," carmy answers. he's quiet on the way home and you can tell whatever was said between the two of them really hurt him. as you finally get to your place, carmy sighs, as if he's ready to get something off his chest. "thank you. for doing that." "for what?" "for comin' along. even though it like... colossally blew up." "you ever gonna tell me what happened?" he shrugs, "i don't know." "okay... well, while i wait for you to burst like a pressure cooker, then inevitably spill the beans," you begin, and he smiles, because you know him too well. "wanna come up for a movie or something? get your mind off of it? it's halloween. maybe i'll even let you talk me into a scary movie this time." you finish asking him. and it's the moment that carmy realizes that you're such a breath of fresh air, especially in contrast with his earlier encounter with mikey. "uh.. yeah. think i'd like that."

the two of you go up to your place, put on a movie, and end up falling asleep on the couch together, only to pretend the next morning that it's not that big of a deal (it is, in fact, a HUGE deal).

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daimyosprincess · 8 months

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Do you think Boba would ever fall for someone who is shy but can bring out the sass once in awhile once they feel comfortable? And maybe who is quite sensitive? I don't know. I keep looking for Boba x reader fics for different types of readers and keep coming up with the same themes which are often quite triggering for me. I am in a writing slump or I'd try to write it myself, but I think maybe I just misunderstand him. I know this is fandom and fun, but I also care about the character and want to get him right and maybe he just doesn't care for someone like that. What are your thoughts on the kind of people Boba would love?

Alright my beloved anon, I have been sitting on this ask for a bit because I really wanted to give it some thought and give it the answer it deserves 💖

In short, yes! I totally think Boba would fall for a shy person, and the sass when they open up would be a bonus for him but definitely not a requirement. I write sassy/bold/loud and proud readers because that's how I am irl but by no means is that the only type Boba would go for. My thoughts on OT!Boba and Daimyo Boba below the cut.

Ok so OT!Boba is much more rough around the edges than he is as an older man in TBOBF; he's driven, angry, and one big ball of pressurized emotion during the Empire era. He the best of the best and he does everything to make sure it stays that way, guarding his reputation with as much ferocity as he goes after his bounties with. He doesn't bother giving energy to things like "love" or "feelings," preferring to work out his frustrations and tension with a (preferably) nameless partner who feels the same. Anything else is too risky, too soft, too vulnerable. He's a lone wolf by choice.

HOWMSTEVER, when he comes across of his highest-paying repeat client's quiet daughter (just choosing for pronouns, def can be gn), he's struck by you. The way you move, quiet as a whisper and soft as a sigh, unseen and unheard by the ruckus around you. He notices you though, he sees you. And he knows you see him too, your watchful eyes flitting over him beneath your lashes when you think his helmet is pointed elsewhere.

You make him curious. Curious as to why a quiet little thing like you would so much as glance his direction twice. He pushes the thoughts away time and time again, but they refuse to be banished, coming unbidden to him in his bunk or during the long hours in hyperspace. What thoughts are swirling in that head of yours? Do you sneak looks at anyone else? Is your voice as sweet as he imagines?

It's nonsense really, he tells himself. You're just some girl, a tender flower who shies away from the sun. He would crush you, break your leaves and trample your petals. You're not made for men like him... so why does he watch you bloom under the moon's light, gentle and perfect? He would only be your ruin.

But oh, what it would be to be the one you blessed with inner light, to be the one who you found deserving of everything you kept to yourself. Maybe even be the one you trust. He certainly doesn't deserve it but, maybe, one day he could.

Boba aches for a balance to his tipped scale. That might look like an outspoken, smart-mouthed partner to match his fire with their own, corralling his blaze by channeling his pent up energy into them. A sun for a sun, a tandem orbit instead of careening through the galaxy.

Just as likely, however, his sun could be balanced with a silver moon, reflecting his light back on him and mastering his violent tides with undeniable, quiet strength. This partner might seem small or nonexistent in comparison to him, impossible that they would attract his desire. That is surface-level thinking--just because the moon goes through phases where it wanes and disappears doesn't mean it doesn't exist. In fact, while the sun sets, the moon never does, it's always there if one pays attention.

I think OT!Boba would admire and find himself attracted to the way a shy, sensitive partner is able to feel and experience their emotions in a way he does not allow himself to. Furthermore, as a man of few words who is in his own bucket more than anything else, he would understand solitude in both its necessity and its pain. There would be a learning curve if the two of pursued a relationship and Boba would undoubtedly hurt your feelings as he tries to learn to navigate his own, but ultimately, the two of you would find reward in each other.

ALRIGHT now onto Daimyo Boba. He's older, wiser, and more keyed into his feelings than his younger self even if he still has a LOT of work left to do in that department (my green tincan man is bunch of repressed emotions walking around in beskar and I love him ok). No longer is he a lone wolf fighting his way through the galaxy, now he's found his pack, his tribe, and he's able to open up to the possibility of having someone at his side.

Now, just as before, that person could be a fiery and bold or reserved and more delicate or anywhere in between. What I believe the theme here is his partner's sense of power. Whether that partner already feels a sense of empowerment or needs support to find it, Boba wants his cyare to appreciate everything that they are and will nurture his partner. It gives him pleasure to care for another, to be in a position to give rather than take, restore rather than destroy.

He is strong man, confident in his power, and wants the same for his partner. The sassy ones need a soft place to land and the shy ones need place to shine, and whichever end of the spectrum his beloved falls on, Daimyo Boba will happily provide them a safe haven.

I hope this coherent and what you were looking for anon 💕 for a shier, sensitive reader fic, I recommend @thirsty-boba-fett-posts Princess Saga series. It's beautiful and touching and isn't one of those stories where the protagonist is "fixed" by becoming an extrovert, but rather focuses on the character's growth and healing.

divider by @saradika

#i pondered this for literal days #thank you for the ask bb 💖 i truly enjoyed answering this #i could talk about boba forever 😭#boba fett #zwei writes #ask

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semischarmed · 3 years

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Inside

“Let me ask again- the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?”

I tremble in fear and stare in silence at the massive man in front of me, rank with the sweat of his daily session.

In my hands lay his used gym clothes, inches from my nose. My eyes widen. He was supposed to be showering. My eyes are drawn to the bar of soap among the pile in front of me. Shit.

Fear becomes arousal when he leans down to my ear, tantalizingly close, and whispers. “If you wanted me inside you so bad, all you had to fucking do was assssk”. He draws that last word out with his teeth, lacing it with venom and seduction.

“Cmon, fucking say it faggot. Say you want me inside you” he taunts.

Ashamed. Terrified. Spellbound. He had reduced me to my most minuscule self. I reply meekly to answer him. “...I want you inside me.”

I hear the corners of his face widen into an unsettling smirk. “Good Answer”.

In the blink of an eye, he vanishes from in front of me, rushing past my side to my back before I can even react. Oh shit this is really happening. I am prepared for the night of my life. “Strip.” I comply. I hear him make some movements and then... then... silence.

“What the hell?” I chuckle nervously as I look behind me in confusion and see his naked form crouching in a low squat with his hands clasped in a praying motion. I admire his massive sweaty muscles. He catches my gaze, looking up and giving me wink. I smile back awkwardly. “So-“

I am cut off by searing, unimaginable pain from the motion of him piercing my ass with his hands as he lunges toward me. Pound after pound of his thick arms shove up my asshole with so much force, he pushes me forward several feet. I stay still, breathing heavy for a few moments- not daring to look back- not daring to move an inch out of our precarious position. My mind races. “Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that!? God, was he ok?”

I finally muster the courage to look behind in horror. I could only see his shoulders. Shit. How is this even possible? God. Shit. I couldn’t see his head…he was probably dead- and judging by how far he pushed into me, I probably would be soon too. I whimper, tears streaming down my face, as recount my life and start fumbling for my phone. I felt sick to my stomach. How could this go so wrong? Every fucking time something good happens. Well… at least if I’m going out, I’m- My stomach churns. Wait. That... wasn’t my stomach.

Impossibly, I felt worms squiggle inside me- no they weren’t worms. I dial in on the sensation. They were fingers. His Fingers. He was moving his fingers. I feel them claw at my throat from the inside. My mouth opens uncontrollably as his digging hands choke me from the inside, scrambling for a grip. I reach up trying in vain to get him to stop. Shit Shit Shit. As my consciousness begins to dip, the hands have finally found a patch of my flesh around my shoulder. I pant in momentary relief.

With each patch of my flesh they touch, I feel our nerves intertwine, tangling into each other until I myself could feel his fingers as a supplement to my own. What the hell was going on? Then, I feel him wrap his arms around more of my flesh and bundle more of our nerves together. Whatever this was, whatever he was doing, it was intentional.

He uses his arms as leverage and pulls the rest of his sweat-slick body inside, almost forcing my own to the ground. I fill up. Near-bursting. Impossibly full. As I stagger to stand, I watch from the mirror as he shimmies more and more of himself into me. I retch unprompted, dry heaving at what was occurring before my very eyes, but the motion only seemed to suck in his fleshy mass further inside me. Still, I couldn’t help but begin to get hard. Him being in here was hot as hell.

I take shorter and shorter breaths, which again only slides more and more of him inside me, until the very last parts of him- his grimy toes- get slurped up in my asshole. My body wants to collapse from the strain of having to stretch to accommodate both our forms. Instead, I watch as his body is imprinted in my skin -near my stomach and chest, pulling me impossibly tight while he cemented himself in a fetal position. My legs begin to buckle from the pressure.

Before I fall, he stretches out his legs out inside my skin, stacking his over my own. They are sticky when they slide over my bones and musculature, likely from the sweat he was aiming to wash off with his shower. As he fills into my skin, my toes are lifted off the ground as my body rises to accommodate his far-larger form. My very own body betrays its owner, as it is drawn to his legs over my own and he hastens the process by corralling my skin to realign to match his legs instead. I can only watch and feel in silence as I feel the skin covering my toes detach from myself and overlap over his. I feel pricks as our nerves entangle together. His legs then digests mine, inflating themselves from my added mass. My skin constricts in turn around his legs, crushing them from all sides. From the depths of my body, a moan in his voice escapes my still-hanging mouth. Skin constricts even tighter and I wince in anticipation from the pain. Instead, I am met with pleasure as nerves fire and I reconnect to my new legs. Oh my god. This was everything… I’ve never been this tall nor my legs this muscular.

I wait in anticipation of his next move. His arms unfurl from their place, and I watch them slip over my shoulders. I look hungrily at my soon-to-be biceps. Yummy. This time, I put no resistance, as readily I allow his pythons to coil around my two stick-appendages. I give these arms of mine to him willingly, which he happily assimilates. Then, a massive tension in the skin of my arms, as they are forced to spread out, rocketed outwards from the mass of his flesh filling into them. By all accounts, it was uncomfortable, but knowing what was soon to come had overwritten any fear, any doubt, any discomfort I could ever have with lust. My arms were never buff, so watching him rearrange his arms to become mine makes me go lightheaded with an abundance of elation and desire. As his nerves join with mine, and I finally feel the strength inherent in my new arms, my head leans back from the sheer sensation of our parts being one. He flexes our new arm together, before caressing it over the imprint of his body still in my chest and stomach. This was a dream come true. Still… more to come.

I watch expectantly as the large mass of his head begins to travel up my neck. I prepare to accept my new self. I could want nothing more than to live as this god of a man as his new flesh. Before his head can reach me, however, I watch as the remainder of his body fill into mine, including that perky ass. My arms are helpless to my whim as he commands them himself. He smears my skin around the outline of his body, slotting his abs over my flat stomach, tracing their indents as they fill over, and giving me the exact very same six-pack I had always fantasized over. He pinches my nipples- holy shit- stretching them forward, before releasing. They rebound back, slotting into their rightfully place- right over his. They’re rock hard.

When the bare outline of his forehead head begins to peek over my neck, I feel him flex our entire body. He tenses our entire form, forcing my skin to compress even tighter around him. He continues until I feel a pop in myself. I look down and see the results. I see his wavy hairs pierce and poke through my skin. The scene was bizarre. He was literally wearing me. Though it was my normally supple skin, it was dotted by the roughness of his hairs. When our pores align, I finally release some excess heat. The scent was immaculate. I sweated his sweat, emanated his scent. By all accounts, I am his body. There would be no turning back. In the continuing process, I feel his organs and blood rush into mine. He was I and I was him. We now shared the same insides. With his blood rushing through us, I felt invigorated. Fuck. God. This was what he felt like every fucking day. I happily invite his wellspring of strength and energy as my own. This is what I am going to be feeling like every day from now on. We could do a million pushups right now without breaking a sweat. With him driving me, we would be unstoppable. My trance is broken when I noticed my dick in disappointment, unchanged from the whole process.

I licked my lips as his head finally slotted over mine. I screamed from the pain of my face being stretched out to accommodate both of ours. He had far better control of us and instead contorted my outer face into a crooked smile. He began panting and moaning as the force of my skin stuck our heads closer and closer together. At long last, I feel sweet release when some arbitrary barrier inside me breaks and a spark lights in me as his head accelerates and smashes into mine. I welcome him inside with open ‘arms’. ‘I want you inside me.’

He complies, greedily overlaying his very being into me. In all my memory, in all my thoughts, feelings, perversions, there he was and there he would be. I yield them all willingly, allowing him to become me, to transcend me. Our shared eyes close from the wealth of new identity he has captured as he and I become one. We would have each other in a way no one else ever could. It was beyond intimacy. With his tongue inside mine, he sticks it out of my face with a sneer. It’s a face I never made, but with our new selves, this just felt right. He guides them over my teeth. My jaw redefines itself on his terms, nose corrects itself to his shape. Altogether, he was wearing me as his own, comfortably taking and rearranging me to be a better vessel for him. Fuck did it feel good to be his outer shell. I think we both looked better like this- greater than the sum of our parts.

Dirty, lewd thoughts mix with my own as his personality bleeds into mine. I reflexively try to shake it off, but he is relentless. In his barrage of self into me, tears well in my face. Still… he continues to inject more and more of his self into me. And then... I finally let go. This felt good. Being his. Who’s to say if it was my thoughts on their own or our combined derangement, but the thought of him forever using me, forever being me? Sheer Fucking Ecstasy. This felt great. He subjugates my sense of self to forever be a part of him but I offer it willingly. Becoming me probably shaved a few years off him. Like my skin, He stretches my personality around his, further and further until we congeal into one. Goddamn. Fuck Yeah. This is fucking great. We lick our lips.

I feel a rush of confidence. The new me is brimming with it. We are alpha. My mouth and body move in a way that was alien to myself. He stands up straighter and cracks our neck, getting comfortable in our new form. We take our first real breath together as a new person, taking in more air than my old lungs had been used to. Amazing.

Then, his hormones rush through our body. Fuck. I feel an outpouring of raw, sexual energy. Our body steams up in the heat- look at me, who wouldn’t- and, before I could react further, he starts pumping my dick in manic glee. Fuck. As it stiffens, I hit my old body’s limit. Average. Our grin widens by his command. “Time for an upgrade, baby” I say with a jock-like inflection in my voice. It sounds immediately comfortable, self-assured, and it rolls off my new tongue naturally. It feels wholly unnatural. He speaks in a lower register than I normally do. Still I yield to him, trusting in my new owner and allowing his parts to coalesce into my vocal chords. A disturbing itch runs through my throat as our voices meld together but I know it’s for the best. This newer, hotter me needs a newer, hotter voice. We take a deep breath before roaring “FUUUUUCK YEAH! Muuuuch better!” in a voice that resembled a harmonius mix both of ours.

The itch courses through the rest of my body as I allow him to fully wear the rest of me. He brings my head to face the new me in the mirror for a closeup giving another wink. Beautiful. I watch as my eyes water uncontrollably. His amber eyes then eclipse mine, and we blink away the tears. In my head, I feel his thick, wavy hair push out beside my own, as my old hair merge into his. In its place, we now wear a crown of his hair signifying my new place as royalty. He drags my now-vascular hand across our chin, pulling slightly while a bit of scruff grows where bare skin used to be. He quickly nods our new head in approval as more of my features contort to accommodate their new owner. Yeah. We were fucking hot.

Then, I feel his thick dick slot into mine, filling it out. Jesus fucking christ it was so big. It stretches me further and further, until I am hit by another wave of paralysis, until my skin snaps back into his, constricting weapon and sheath together. The sheer pressure merges them into one. Goddamn we were huge. Our shared tongue hangs from our open mouth, as we release a massive wave of cum. It rockets everywhere, covering me in my new, alpha seed. We sample a taste of our shared genetics. Fucking delicious.

God we were so hot together. The feeling is surreal. There was nothing like it in the world. I was forever his. I am wrack in permanent pleasure from being us. He walks over to his old pile of clothes, putting them on. As they brush over my new body, I am flush with a sense of completeness. A perfect match.

---End---

Ok, Ok, so not as ‘light’ as I would have expected. I was gonna make something cute for Valentines day, but got sidetracked by... I mean... look at him.

#male possession #male shapeshift #male body suit #male transformation

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momowho34 · 3 years

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So that story about Dionysus being the son of Persephone is awful and gross for like 10 different reasons but can we stop and just appreciate how amazingly they would get along? Like dionysus has mysterious chthonic connections on his own and both of them show evidence of being preceded by really old and dangerous figures and they both have rebirth themes and agricultural themes and I just keep imagining

(This isn’t for a fandom it’s just straight up Greek mythology btw)

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Styx: Yeah idk, I just... found him here?

Dionysus, after wandering into the underworld and passing out next to the river Styx, wearing dramatic grape vines, drunk as fuck, tired, entirely oblivious to anything ever, should be totally harmless but still has the faintest aura of the maddened screams of the dying and the roar of lions drifting around him: hnngh???

Persephone, tearing up: *gasps* new bestie!!!!

Styx: ??????

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Persephone, during their weekly visits, painting his nails: *sighs* it’s just.... so exhausting to be raised from the dead every year, y’know? Really fucks with my beauty routine. I love seeing my mom but being brought back to life is just a little tedious. Dying is like so much easier.

Dionysus, feeding Cerberus ghost pork chops under the table with his other hand: oh sweetheart I know. I’ve died and been reborn three times, did you know that? Exhausting. Every. Single. Time.

Persephone: omg dish!!!!

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Persephone, on the way to the fields of Elysian with Dionysus: I just don’t understand why you had to kill him! He was so close to reuniting with his wife... er- whatever her name was, but they were really cute and you know how I am about love stories I just... I’m so upset!!!

Dionysus, carrying Orpheus’s soul over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes: look, he was ruining my vibe, okay? I really value my vibe! That’s just how it is. Besides, he lost his chance to find her in the living world when he turned around and saw her. Now he gets to reunite with his lover.... dicey-universe or whatever her name was.

Orpheus, weakly: Eurydice, my beloved that I lost, oh how her beauty was- ack!

Dionysus, frowning, wacking Orpheus over his shoulder: hush, you. We’re almost there. If you start waxing poetic or singing about tragic love again I will throw you into Asphodel so fast-

Persephone: oh don’t pretend that you didn’t come down here to save your wife a long time ago.

Dionysus, scoffing: okay, but that’s different! I am allowed to be here. Ariadne just came down for a little visit, she wasn’t planning to stay dead!

Persephone: .....I’m not entirely sure you understand how death works, dionysus.

———————————————————————

Hades, sighing: honey I don’t want to limit your friend circle, it’s just that it’s dangerous for someone to traverse between realms like this!

Persephone: I’m telling you though, he is a death god!

Hades: darling I’m finding it hard to believe that the god of wine and partying is-

Dionysus, turning the corner, with his horns and thrysus and slit pupil eyes and leopard skin and somehow giving off ancient old god eldritch abomination energy despite wearing sunglasses and drinking a smoothie: ‘Sup fuckers.

Hades, backing away: dear fucking Kronos yeah that’s a death god, that’s a really old death, that’s an old as Tarterus death god, holy fucking shit okay have fun sweetie he’s free to hang out down here whenever he wants I’m going to go throw up have fun you two bye no way I’m fucking with this shit not today-

———————————————————————

(tw: people talking about sex)

Persephone: okay but you can’t have had sex with that many nymphs! I know those girls! Boroe, Khonoris, Nikaia, Methe, Pallene-

Dionysus, sighing: Okay, okay, it wasn’t that many nymphs and humans! Just... look, let’s stop talking about my love life and talk about yours, hmm? Like did you have any other romantic escapades other then Mr. Scary Pants here?

Persephone: hmmm.... well there was this one really cute guy that I hung out with for a while, Adonis. He was pretty great, honestly.

Dionysus: ooh, Adonis... I remember him, he was really cute- shit, sorry, I had a fling with him too but this isn’t about me, go on.

Persephone, rolling her eyes: ugh, of course you did. Anyway, he’s no use to me dead, and he got killed by Ares.

Dionysus: oof, Ares. Fate worse then death. Why was he killed by Ares?

Persephone: because he slept with Aphrodite, Ares really hates it when people sleep with his girlfriend.

Dionysus, reminiscing: oooohhh, Aphrodite. Now she was definitely something, I remember this one time we- why are you looking at me like that?

Persephone:

Persephone: you.

Persephone: you never told me you slept with aPHRODITE- *assorted sounds of screaming and crashing*

———————————————————————

Demeter, exasperated, during the summer months: oh by the Titans, you can’t seriously be telling me that you’re friends with Bacchus of all people.

Persephone: but why! He’s an agriculture god, you two should get along! Plus he’s not dangerous- ok, he’s a little dangerous, but like, not to me!

Demeter, sighing: sweetheart I assure you, it’s not about if he’s dangerous-

Dionysus, popping through a window, looking at Demeter: heeeyyyyy! yo, it’s Bread Basket, my favorite bestie!!! I’m doing real good at this domesticated planting thing, I’m a born natural at it hahaha!!! I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been taking really good care of the vineyards you helped me plant, absolutely no fires or villager beheadings so far! I promise no more screw ups- *glances behind him* oh my gods you stupid fucking satyr’s, that is the ONE plot of land that you’re not supposed to- Sorry Demi, gotta go good luck with the.... whatever it is you do, bye!!!

Persephone, staring in awe as Dionysus runs back to the fields and desperately tries to corrall the satyr’s in his cult that are munching on grape vines as the maenads cheer and throw sticks in the background: wow. I’ve never... ive never seen this side of him before.

Demeter, putting her head in her hands: yet another reason why I wish I had your luck, Kore.

———————————————————————

Dionysus, standing next to persephone, watching Psyche skip away with a box of beauty cream tucked under her arm: ....You know she’s gonna open that box.

Persephone: yep.

Dionysus: and that it’s going to kill her?

Persephone: yep.

Dionysus: and that doesn’t bother you?

Persephone, sighing: look, have a little faith in Eros. He’s a resourceful little shit, he’ll figure something out, and watching Aphrodite realize she’s been bested by her own son will taste like poetry. I can’t wait to see it.

Dionysus, whistling: damn gurl you hold a grudge.

Persephone, narrowing her eyes: only against Aphrodite. Only against Aphrodite.

———————————————————————

Dionysus: anyway I was *Baby Melinoe grabs his arm and he freezes* oh my god what is that

Persephone, laughing: that’s just my daughter, Dionysus. I think she likes you.

Dionysus: fuck. Oh gods. um- uhhhhh- what I do with it, I don’t know- I don’t know what to do with it-

Melinoe: *laughs*

Dionysus, sweating: oh no. Why did it make that sound? Did I break it? Is it- is it broken??? What am I supposed to do with this??? Is it okay????

Persephone: gods this is so going in the fucking scrapbook.

Melinoe: *latches onto Dionysus’s arm as he continues to panic*

Dionysus: persephone is it okay? Is it broken? Persephone I’m not kidding your husband honestly freaks me the fuck out I don’t wanna break your kid oh my gods

Persephone: she usually doesn’t like people she doesn’t know-

Melinoe: *starts to climb on him*

Dionysus: oh fuck, no no no what is it doing, Persephone I’m not kidding what is it doing, what is it doing Persephone get it off me oh my gods I’m not joking perSEPHONE-

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

Text

@sicktember Prompt # 17: Ginger Ale and Crackers

Title: Leftovers

Fandom: New Girl

CW: Emeto, vomit.

Jess takes care of the sick guys after a bad batch of chicken wings

Jess was always slightly afraid to return to the loft after being gone for a few days because she never knew what she would find. Especially when Cece was also gone. With no one to check on them, Nick, Schmidt and Winston had been known to get into a lot of trouble, or at the very least make a huge mess.

Arriving home that Saturday afternoon, Jess braced herself for the worst. She was relieved, therefore, to find Schmidt and Winston lying on the couch, silently watching TV. Nick was nowhere to be found, and the loft looked as it usually did.

"Hey guys! What's up? How was your weekend? Mine was great." She set her bags down and removed her coat, coming to join them, already gearing up to talk for hours about the camp she had been at with her students. However, she halted upon seeing their faces. Schmidt was pale and clammy-looking, with his arms wrapped around his middle. Winston was bundled into a blanket, with only his hollow-looking eyes peeking out, rimmed with dark circles.

"Oh my gosh you guys! Are you ok? Where's Nick? What happened?" Jess squealed, rushing to Schmidt and feeling his face for a fever.

Schmidt brushed her away, swallowed thickly before he spoke, his voice faint and raspy. "Winston and I went out last night for… chicken wings." He seemed to struggle to even talk about the food, his face going slightly green as he did so. "We smashed at least two dozen each, and brought home two dozen more. But we both got food poisoning in the middle of the night. Nick didn't know that though because he was at work, so he ate the ones we brought home about eight hours after we did. He's still in the bathroom puking his guts out.

"Oh, you poor guys! I'm so sorry I wasn't here! Are you both… done puking?"

Winston and Schmidt looked at each other for a moment. "Probably not," Winston mumbled. "But we haven't in a little while. And the bathroom floor was getting cold."

"Well never fear. Dr. Jess to the rescue. Let me go check on Nick and then I'll take care of you guys."

Schmidt and Winston shot each other another look, this time a worried one, which Jess didn't notice as she walked away.

The bathroom was silent when Jess entered. Nick was huddled on the floor inside the stall. He was wrapped in a C-shape around the base of the toilet with his head pillowed on his towel. Jess knelt at his side, rubbing his back a little.

"How ya doin', buddy?" Jess asked gently.

"Go away, Jess."

"Winston and Schmidt told me what happened with the chicken wings. How's your stomach?"

She hardly needed to ask the last question. At the phrase 'chicken wings' Nick groaned queasily and sat up, immediately starting to dry-heave over the toilet, but it seemed he was empty. When he finished, he laid his head on the toilet seat with another miserable groan.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I want you to leave me alone. I'm so disgusting right now."

"I don't think you're disgusting. You can't help that you have a stomach ache. And I'm a teacher. I'm immune to being grossed out by puke."

"Don't say that word," Nick moaned, belching ominously.

"Sorry. Think you can move? Try going back to bed?"

"Nn-nn. This is my bed now." He hugged the toilet tighter.

"Okay… well I'm at least going to bring you some water."

Jess took his groaned reply as agreement.

The glass of water was only the beginning. Jess kept herself very busy for the next several hours caring for her room friends. None of them wanted to stay in one place though, so she felt like she was chasing them all over the apartment as they moved from bed to couch to bathroom. They were all miserable and sick though, so she cut them some slack.

She considered it an achievement therefore when she finally corralled them all on the couch. Nick was by far the sickest, so he was huddled in a miserable lump, arms around a large bowl. Schmidt and Winston seemed to be over the worst of it, but were still queasy and pale, and very sore from the exertion of vomiting for hours.

After they were all settled on the couch, Jess brought out refreshments for them.

"Crackers for Schmidt and Winston." She handed them plain saltines, which they began to nibble cautiously.

"And ginger ale for Nick." She placed the fizzing beverage on the table in front of him.

He made a face. "I hate ginger ale."

"What's wrong with ginger ale? It's the best thing for stomach aches," Jess said.

"It tastes like ass. I guarantee you I'll puke if I drink that."

Jess crossed her arms with a huff. "Then what do you want to drink?"

"Do we have any grape juice?" Nick asked hopefully.

"Grape juice? Really? That's so sugary."

"He always asks for grape juice when he's sick," Schmidt chimed in. "He wasn't allowed to have it as a kid unless he was sick."

"Ok… grape juice,” Jess said, perching on the arm of the couch. “I guess I'll see if I can find some. I hope you learned your lesson about stealing leftovers though, Nick."

He lifted his head and eyed her blearily. "Huh?"

"It's not nice to steal other people's food. And you wouldn't be sick if you hadn't eaten Schmidt's leftovers."

"I didn't steal anything. Schmidt brings leftovers home specifically for me to eat."

Jess gave Schmidt a questioning look, and he nodded. "We've had a pact since we first met. We always bring back food for each other from any restaurant we go to. The punishment for breaking the pact is an atomic wedgie. I always keep the pact."

Jess shook her head. "I guess I stand corrected. Sorry, Nick. But you guys are weird."

Nick gave her a look. "We're weird? You're the one that's hanging out with us even though we can't stop crapping and barfing. You almost seem excited about it. Pretty sure you're the weird one."

Jess smiled to herself, but didn't reply. She knew their mutual weirdness was why they all made such good room friends, but the guys would never agree. So Jess kept her thoughts to herself as she prepared to go to the store for grape juice.

#sicktember2021 #sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #prompt 17

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blueluneacy · 4 years

Note

I SAW REQUESTS OPEN AAAAAAA. Ok, so what about Jotaro confessing his crush on his friend who was the only one comforting him after sdc, agH I love so much your blog!!, thanks!

Sure! I had a lot of fun with this one!

Warning: more angst, Jotaro fuckin hurts both physically and mentally, ouch

You didn’t really know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. You just sat next to Jotaro in the hospital, while he rested. You knew that Jotaro would be exhausted, after everything that had happened. Things still weren’t done, but after the sun rose and Dio’s body was completely destroyed, he seemed to just collapse. It was over, it was all finally over. He could finally rest. But, this rest wasn’t without consequences. You remember how you sobbed into Polnareff’s arms when you heard what had happened to Avdol, Kakyoin and Iggy, how it seemed to all cut you like a knife. So, you sat next to Jotaro, waiting for him to wake up. It wasn’t like you weren’t hurt, not by a long shot. So, you figured that you would stay by Jotaro as long as you could, or at least until your nurse found you and corralled you back into bed. You held onto Jotaro’s hand, until you finally felt him squeeze back. You jumped a bit, turning to see Jotaro’s bright blue eyes trained on you.

“Good grief.. Did you not expect me to wake up or something?” He asked, shaking his head. You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit.

“I liked you better when you were asleep. Get more rest, you’re still healing. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You told him, leaving Jotaro just to roll his eyes.

“I’m fine. It’s just a few broken bones and all that. Could be a lot worse.” He replied, but you didn’t let go of Jotaro’s hand.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean… You know, how you are… Like, with everything that happened?” You asked, but Jotaro just rolled his eyes.

“Good grief. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed too? Come on, I’ll help you over.” You grit your teeth a bit at that.

“I’m not leaving. You don’t have to talk to me about it, but… It’s okay to not be okay, you know that, JoJo? I.. I’m still not okay over it all…” You told him, feeling your eyes well up a bit.

“(Y/n). You’re hurt. You need to be in bed.” Jotaro told you, just putting a hand on your shoulder. You shook your head.

“Please, just let me be the one to help you for a moment. You’re always protecting me, and helping me with things, I just… I want to make sure you’re alright.” You told him, looking away.

“... I love you, (Y/n). I love you, I just…” Jotaro looked away, and you could see that he was gritting his teeth so hard that he might break his own teeth. “The way you laid lifeless on the ground… He told me that after he killed me, he was going to torture you, kill you slowly. Or that maybe he’d make me watch him drain you. I just… I…” You saw how tears started to fall down Jotaro’s face and gasped, leaning in to hold his hand close to your chest. You sighed, trying to rub his hand a bit for some sort of comfort.

“It’s okay, Jotaro. It’s okay to try, don’t worry.” You told him, and with your words, it was like some sort of floodgates broke open, and Jotaro was overcome with racking sobs. Sobbing for you, for his fallen friends, for his family that he had saved. It was all coming out into incomprehensible cries, but you didn’t falter. You just sat there, there for the boy that you knew was in love with you. He needed someone who loved him right now, more than anything.

#Anonymous #jotaro kujo/reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro/reader #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #x reader angst #angst #writing #My writing #mine #sfw

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selfless1978 · 3 years

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BROWN AND BLUE

“Leo?”

The eldest looked up from the book he really wasn’t reading. The pages seemed to be just a blur of nothingness in front of him. He sighed and closed it before putting it down. More and more his hobbies seemed to fail in bringing him any kind of comfort.

“What is it, April?” The large turtle asked as he got to his feet to greet her and Casey as they walked in. It didn’t escape his notice that both looked a little hesitant to disturb him.

“Chief Vincent is asking for your help.” April herself looked at the large turtle, her eyes full of sympathy. “I...told her that you guys might not be ready yet, but she’s pretty desperate. She does send her condolences and understanding. She wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t pretty bad.”

Leo looked away from her, tears building in his eyes. Tears he was quick to hide by turning and walking away towards the kitchen.

April and Casey exchanged a worried look, not sure what was running through the leader’s mind.

“What does she want?” Leo asked over his shoulder. A shoulder that was drooped in defeat. He continued his trek towards the kitchen, needing something to soothe his mind. Couldn’t he even mourn his loss in peace?

“She didn’t really go into many details. There is a problem topside with an individual. They can’t catch her much less contain.” The couple followed him into the kitchen where the large turtle was making some tea. “But she did tell me this person is very dangerous and unstable. She’s suffered some losses trying to corral her on her own. Leo, it sounds pretty serious.”

“Very.” Casey chipped in. “She keeps blowing shit up. Personally I think what ever is going on is out of their league.”

“Which is why she is asking for your help.” April leaned on the doorframe, watching her friend as he made his tea.

Leo was quiet a long moment. This simple seeming task taking all of his attention. Only when his cup was finished and was about to be set to steep did he speak again. “I see.” He still didn’t turn to face the pair.

Then the cup was almost slammed onto the counter top as he whirled around. The hot liquid sloshing over the sides. Both humans winced.

“I just lost my father and she wants me to go put out her fires?”

“Leo, people are getting hurt.” April kept her tone calm. “She doesn’t know what else to do.”

Leo’s eyes remained hard for a long moment. The struggle to balance his grief out with the dire situation was clear to see on his face. And it wasn’t an easy one for him. “Fine.” He finally sighed in defeat. “We’ll meet with her tonight. Usual time and place.”

April and Casey nodded. Casey turned to leave, but April stepped forward and wrapped her friend in a hug. “I know this is hard, Leo. I miss him too.”

Leo didn’t say anything as he accepted the hug. There was nothing he could say that would make any of this better.

They arrived to find Chief Vincent already waiting for them. A folder in her hand and an anxious expression on her face. Some of the tension left her features at the sight of the four brothers, only to rise again at the obvious signs of grief on all of them. Mikey was somber and quiet, Raph was glaring at her while Donnie looked like he didn’t even want to be out here. Even Leo’s gaze was hard as he approached.

“Thank you for coming.”

Only a brief nod was her reply from the leader.

“I’m sorry for-”

“Just get on with it.” Raph growled. “Your condolences ain’t gonna bring him back.”

The woman just nodded and handed over the file to Leo, not wanting to anger the big turtle any further.

“This her?” Leo asked as he opened the file and began to browse.

“Yes. Her name is Victoria Self. A few months ago her children were put into foster care. They stayed in State custody while she was told to get her life on track.’

Leo frowned a little as he browsed through more. “Not signs of any criminal history. Nothing.”

“She didn’t have anything.” Vincent agreed. “Been clean. Served a few years in the military, got out and lived a normal life. Got married, had two kids, divorced. She only came onto our radar because her kids were taken. Even then she seemed ok. Came to visit them every week. But no progress was made to better her situation so they stayed in foster care. Then, about a month ago, the kids were forcefully taken from the social worker. The attack put him in the hospital in critical condition. But he was able to tell us that it was her.”

“How so?” Leo handed the file to Donnie so he could look over it.

“He heard the kids call her Mom.”

Leo nodded. “Go on.”

“Obviously, we went to arrest her. I don’t know how, but she managed to take down the entire swat team and five or six patrol officers. Leonardo, all of them claim she moved impossibly fast and beat them easily before destroying the vehicles.”

“One woman took down all of them?” Raph raised a brow.

“Yes. Very easily. And-”

“Chief Vincent!”

For the second time tonight she was being cur off, this time by her assistant running forward. Her face pale. “There was an attack on a federal prison in Georgia! Almost the entire compound was destroyed!”

“What?”

“That’s not all.” Jade continued, handing over another file. “There was also reports of a woman assaulting two individuals in a truck stop in Tennessee. They were able to get pictures of the perpetrator from the security cameras. It was her.”

The police chief began to swear under her breath as she took the file. Which Leo immediately took himself. He opened it and pulled out the pictures within. Indeed it was the same woman that was pictured in the other file.

“There were numerous injuries. And one causality. One of the inmates was found with his head caved in. With a hammer, of all things.”

“Do we have information on the inmate?”

“Yes ma’am. One Rudy Barlow. Sentenced for murder and child molestation.”

Once more Leo took the file and handed it over to Donnie. “See what else you can dig up.” Donnie nodded. It was rapidly becoming clear to him that his friends were indeed right to pass the message along. For just a single woman to do all this and avoid, or better said beat, her way out of capture was indeed no small matter. “Have her children been seen anywhere?”

“So far, no.” Jade answered. “All the footage we get from her are short, fleeting ones. But none of them have the children with her or anywhere near her.”

Leo nodded. They must have been taken and hidden somewhere. That meant she was going out alone. She would return to the city just to get them if for no other reason. “Alright, Chief Vincent. We’ll look into it.”

“Thank you.” She looked relieved. “I didn’t want to put this on you. But didn’t know what else to do. She has easily taken down or just flat out outran any of my officers. We just can’t get our hands on her.”

Leo looked up to the heavens a moment. His eyes lost in the stars as he searched for something he could never see. A low sigh escaping the mentally weary turtle. He wanted nothing more than to just hide in his home and come to terms with things, but he knew his father would frown upon him letting the chaos continue. Chaos that seemed to be ramping up.

“It’s fine.” He said quietly in return. “Father would have wanted us look into it. To stop the casualties if nothing else.”

Leo then turned and headed toward the edge of the rooftop. There was nothing else he could do here. Donnie needed time to look the files over and see if he could find more information on her. “We’ll keep in touch.”

He then led his brothers off of the rooftop and out into the night.

#Evil Vicky #enter the turtles

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 13: SNAFU

Characters: Captain Syverson, various original minor/supporting characters.

Summary: Sy has some time to think about his past, present, and future while roughing it in the Virginia wilderness which leads him to a revelation about what he really wants…but is it too late?

Need to start from the beginning? Miss an update because Tumblr? Click me!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mild language, mature themes, military and weapon terminology, discussion, and use. (For those who don’t know, SNAFU is a term coined in the military. It’s an acronym for “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” And since this is from Sy’s perspective, I thought a military term, as opposed to a therapy term would be appropriate.)

Author’s Note: Despite this being the longest chapter, clocking in at almost 5k, it was one of the easiest to write, and came the quickest. I love writing from Sy’s perspective, and the pure love he has for Shane. I’m hoping to be able to write a bit more of his POV before the story is complete. We’ll see. I apologize if it seems like one long rant about Sy’s feelings…I guess that’s what it is, with various activities peppered in. He can be a sensitive guy, and I wanted to show that.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy was no whimp. That much was certain. Missouri winters had toughened him up more than most men in his battalion and most of the participants in the training he was currently undertaking.

But it was more than that. Sy was uniquely prepared for the elements. He remembered a particularly harsh December night during Christmas break, before he joined the service when he was home alone and had to let the dog out. Fool that he was, he wore no shoes. Greater fool, he'd allowed the door to the back yard to close…and unfortunately, it had a tendency to lock. Which it did. He tried fruitlessly for a while to break back in, but being without a cell phone, he knew he'd have to walk a good distance for help with the lock.

He slipped out the gate and started up to the road, to follow it to his grandparents a few miles away. The county road wasn't the best kind for walking, particularly barefoot in the late fall, but his feet were soon too numb to feel the gravel and whatever else was lacerating the soles of his feet. After about an hour, he made it there, shivering, knocking frantically and waking his frail old grandparents up to rescue him from his own negligence. He'd regret that until the day he died. Not that they were angry about it. They shrugged it off. His grandma cleaned the blood and dirt from his feet and bandaged the shallowed abrasions. They didn't look too bad, considering the area they lived in and the trash that could have been waiting to carve him up. Then she set about cleaning up Sy's messy footprints from her normally immaculate floor. Grandpa looked all over for their spare keys to Sy's and his mom's house, and finally found them. He lent him a pair of shoes, drove him back home, and let him in the house. After that, Sy found himself eager to spend time outdoors during colder weather. As if determined to build up a tolerance to it in case he ever found himself in such a situation again.

Now, despite the time of year being only late August, it was unseasonably cool, especially at night, as if Christmas was right around the corner, and Sy was wishing more and more that he had someone to cuddle with during the nights he'd be doing cross country training here at the beautiful Shenandoah National Park. He had packed only the essentials for the expedition, a mess kit, bed roll, canteen, modest rations, first aid supplies, et cetera, plus a rope and a tarp for building a shelter. On his person, he had a compass, a topographical map of the park with checkpoints indicated, waterproof, strike-anywhere matches, a hunting knife, a tactical knife, an M17 pistol, and three .9mm clips. He was also given a flare gun to use in case he got stuck for any reason and needed extraction.

On his first night in the wilderness, he'd taken a lot of time falling asleep. Thinking.

He thought about his last week at home. He wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were doing with Aika. Shane had offered to watch her, and he considered it. He had appreciated her eagerness to help after her…less than enthusiastic response to hearing about this trip. But he decided since Aika had a close relationship already with Fred and Caroline, and she was still getting to know Shane, they'd better be the ones to take her. She understood, and had offered the second reason that since she worked so much, she wouldn't be able to give her the kind of attention she was used to. That had made a lot of sense. He felt like kind of a bad dog parent for not thinking of it, himself.

He thought about the week he'd been here already at the compound. His first day filling out paperwork, he was asked for an emergency contact. He was used to putting his mom…but she wasn't in the best of health, herself. He had nobody. Nobody but Shane. He put her down, instead of his mom. He thought about the seminars on company approved methods of subduing and detaining targets and combatants. He should have taught Shane some self-defense moves before he left. She could handle herself, and she'd proven so, but still. A refresher, or an advancement on one's skills was always a good idea. But he was sure she'd be fine. He thought about her the most in the torturous policy and procedure lecture. What he wouldn't'a given to have her here with him. She would have made everything fun. And she would have been a way better study partner than Keith. Keith, a Navy vet from Little Rock was a good guy…he just…didn't get Sy's jokes. He was a very literal kind of thinker, and it took extra effort for Sy to communicate with folks like that.

Shane, though…he and Shane wouldn't have gotten too much done, study-wise. They would have been…distracted.

As he hiked along the trails to his first checkpoint, he breathed in the clean, crisp air and stopped at the odd overlook here and there. The park was nestled on the outer edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and they were too gorgeous not to appreciate while he was here. He found himself…uniquely emotional. He didn't feel lonely often, but since he'd met Shane, he'd hardly gone two days without seeing her, even if it was for just an hour. She'd love all of this. She'd probably want a tent, and coffee in the mornings, so they wouldn't be able to travel quite as light, but they'd make it work. Maybe one day they'd take a trip like this. Just for fun. No checkpoints. No deadlines. No semi-automatic weapons…well, honestly, he'd probably still bring a gun, anyway. You never did know about people these days, he thought. Of course, that's probably what people think of me carrying a pistol, he also thought…anyway, he was almost to the checkpoint.

Said checkpoint was a big tent, like the ones they sold fireworks out of leading up to Fourth of July. Inside there was a single lane shooting range set up down one half of the tent. On the other half, there were stations set up with dismantled weapons that you had to assemble in a certain amount of time. Someone had beaten him to the range, so he started with the guns. No problems whatsoever. He was familiar more or less with all of the models, or some version of them. When the previous participant, a small blonde woman, had finished on the range, Sy stepped up to the counter.

The attendant reset the target for Sy so he could do a close range shot, then again for mid and long range ones. He shot well, although he still wasn't used to the lighter weight of the SIG Sauer M17s the armed forces switched to back in 2017. They'd offered him an M18 at the compound, but he favored the heaver pistol, instead. Maybe the M18 was more packable, but Sy just didn't feel right firing a weapon that felt like a feather in his hand. If it was up to him, he'd take a Colt Python .357 Magnum Revolver. That, however, was more than just a question of how the firearm felt in his hand. Being out in the wilderness like this made him think back to how it must have been before these lands became civilized and gentrified. Back to the days of the cowboy, Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. Back when it was just the wild and free land he could pretend it was now. He thanked the attendant, who was writing his name on his targets to take back to the compound along with his graded weapon assembly timesheets, and then was back on his way.

There was an eerie beauty about this unsullied land, he thought, as the dusk fell the second night of the excursion and he began setting up his camp about halfway between the first and second checkpoints, by his estimation. With his fire built and his shelter up, Sy took out some of his rations, cured meat, hard cheese, and some walnuts, and had a light supper before cleaning his gun and turning in while the ground still held some heat from the waning sun, wishing again as the cold set in that his woman was there to warm him.

His sleep was fitful. And he awoke before dawn, from dreams he couldn't remember but which still left him feeling empty. They must have been about her. He was starting to feel regret. The last time he'd seen Shane, he'd said some things that he meant to be selfless. But he didn't mean them. He meant the parts about loving her, of course. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and find her moved on with someone else. He couldn't stand to think about it. As he walked into the next checkpoint area, the range was already set up for close range firing. He riddled the target with .9mm holes and could barely wait until the attendant got the fresh sheet set to mid range before he began firing.

"How about you let me fully clear the lane before you start on the long range target, okay, Syverson?"

"Sorry, man. I'm a little…on edge today. Won't happen again."

The short, sandy-haired buck trotted out to replace the riddled sheet with one more for the long range leg, pulled it down and lacked it in to long range position, then hoofed it back up to safety, sensing the captain's impatience. Sy shot cleanly, but with cold anger, as if the silhouette on the page out there was trying to take Shane away from him. He put two square in the chest, and two in the head without hesitating.

"Man, I've never seen a long range shoot like that! What's the deal, you pissed at an ex, or something?" Sy checked the man's lapel for a name tag.

"Not exactly, Mister…Daniels."

"Call me Jack." they shook hands, and Sy chuckled, questioning.

"I'm Sy. You're name is Jack…Daniels?"

"Yes sir. No relation to the Lynchburg Daniels, unfortunately. Momma wanted to name me after her granddad, and my old man, well, he had no problem with it given his affinity for the spirit."

"A wise man, your dad. Some of my best nights have included Tennessee Number 7." He didn't elaborate, but he was getting very specific flashbacks of drinking games in his kitchen with Shane. And he was gonna have to shake it off before the weapons assembly drill, or else he'd end up putting together an assault rifle backward.

He made it through without any trouble, thank the good Lord. But that didn't mean that his mind wasn't still reeling. He was thinking of Shane and the possibility that she was being courted by Chris Evans look-alikes and young Harrison Ford doppelgangers, and it was making him furious. He was pretty sure that she was about as interested in taking a break as he was, but he couldn't help himself from making the offer under the circumstances. He kicked himself as he made his camp for the evening, not very far away from the third checkpoint, but too far away to get there by dusk when the daily deadline was. He was a shoe in to get there first in the morning, though, if he was reading his map correctly, and he was damn good at maps, if he did say so, himself. And who would bitch at him for bragging out here, anyway. The odd cricket or squirrel? He didn't think so.

It was colder tonight, and he was thankful that he thought to boil some water for his canteen and put it at his feet. He curled his surly, burly body up under the layers of blanket and thermal sheeting. He was almost warm enough…but he still needed something.

His sleep was plagued by strange dreams that he unfortunately remembered tonight. The scene began with Shane in a bright pink dress and matching gloves, dripping with diamonds, like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She looked so glamourous and beautiful, but she was getting passed from man to man to the tune of Madonna's Material Girl, which was not the correct song, and he knew it in that moment, but couldn't correct anyone, because it was all playing out on the big screen TV in his basement. When he realized this he turned it off and noticed a familiar head of hair on his lap and stroked it, about to say "Hey, sunshine." until the figure sat up and looked at him, and it was Jordan, the PTA, batting his eyelashes at him, and asking, "You ready for bed, babe?" The therapist leaned in for a kiss, but Sy leaned back, tumbled off the couch and landed on those crutches again, standing right in front of Shane in the lobby of the therapy clinic.

"Hey sunshine." he said warmly. She looked confused.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well…I should hope so…it's me. Sy."

"Sorry, not ringing any bells. I'll look you us and see who you're with, though. Usually Heather tells the new patients which therapists they get their first day. What's your last name?"

He felt like he was getting kicked in the gut with a soccer cleat worn by the Incredible Hulk. He answered with defeat.

"Sy's a nickname. Last name Syverson, first name Logan."

"Oh, there you are. Looks like Cory gets to take care of you today. I'll let him know you're ready. As long as you're all done with the secretaries?"

Sy nodded and collapsed to the floor blacking out. When he woke up, his neighbor, Mr. Stevens was standing over him, insisting it was time for him to get ready. He kept handing him things to put on. Pants, a nice shirt, a vest, a light blue tie, a jacket, nice shoes. The whole enchilada. They got out of Fred's car at a little white chapel outside which, his neighbor pinned a small boutonniere of powder blue hydrangeas to his lapel and walked in with him.

"Come on, boy. She'll be here any minute."

Sy was nervous, but excited. He was obviously marrying Shane. But he couldn't remember proposing, or planning the wedding, or an engagement party, or bachelor party, or rehearsal dinner, nothing…but none of that mattered. He heard the first notes of "Here Comes the Bride" and everything faded away, anyway. He began to cry as she got closer. She was moving slowly, he presumed out of nerves. Or perhaps she'd chosen the wrong shoes. It didn't matter. They'd dance the night away barefoot, and make love until dawn. He wished her veil wasn't so thick. He couldn't even see her bouquet. Let alone her stunning face, no doubt smiling as she cried with him. When she stood in front of him, he broke protocol and removed the veil to find Aika in a white dress on her hind legs panting, tongue lolling happily to one side.

"You may now kiss the bride." said the wizened old minister, causing Aika to knock Sy to the ground licking his face until he blacked out again.

This time, he woke to the chirping birds of a mountain morning in Virginia. His campfire long snuffed, his canteen now chilled as his blood. Those dreams…those were traumatic. He didn't want Shane to see anyone else. The thought of seeing anyone else himself repulsed him. Thinking about what his life would have been like if they'd never gotten to work together made him physically ill, and he was terrified that if he didn't act on these feelings, he'd end up with no one but his dog. Why did it take a trip out of state and all these nights of solitude to figure this out? She was all that mattered. He could dig ditches, flip burgers, get a teaching certificate and coach, or teach gym. Whatever. He also liked history. He could think of something if the people at Secure Source couldn't keep him in consistent work. It would be fine. He understood his purpose now. And it wasn't just to do his duty to his country. He'd served proudly for years. He had a new purpose now. And it was her.

He packed up camp in what he was sure was record time and hauled ass to the last checkpoint where the brass should be waiting for finishers. He was the first one there this morning, but he wasn't sure if anyone had made it yesterday. He didn't try to make small talk with the attendant today. He was on a legit mission to get back to his locker at the compound, turn his phone on and call Shane. He fired four shots, but only made two holes on the long range target. One in the chest, one in the head. The attendant was impressed, giving the highest possible grade.

"Man, Syverson. I pray I never do anything to piss you off."

Sy nodded in acknowledgement and went on to the weapons drill booths. Today, there were distracting sound effects playing on a speaker in each booth, and each one was different. Sy ignored the cacophony, pretending it was white noise, and focused on the puzzles at hand, breezing through the new weapons in better time than ever.

As his cards were being scored and turned in for review to Jane Freitag, the administrator over acquisitions and training, he got himself a cup of coffee and a doughnut, and just observed her, tactically, and objectively. She was a redhead with sharp features, freckles, and light eyes. She was slender, but dressed simply, and modestly. The consummate professional. Sy had honestly barely registered her gender, and it wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. She was. Full red lips, lashes for days, and although her clothes didn't exactly accentuate her shape, he could tell he had a decent figure. He just wasn't interested. And would never be interested in anyone but Shane again. Miss Freitag startled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Syverson." She beckoned him to the entrance to the tent near her vehicle.

He picked up his gear and coffee and trotted over to her.

"Ma'am?"

"Jane, please."

"Sy, then, for me. What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, you're the first participant across the finish line. I'm very impressed. It seems as though you almost could have finished last night."

"Yes, ma'am, if I hadn't taken a little extra time for sightseeing, I might have made it here by dusk last night. I just haven't had the hustle I had today."

"Well, that's nothing to sneer at. Normally, the deprivation of food, regular water supply, and proper sleeping conditions make participants sloppy. The opposite seems to be true for you, as you've done better at each checkpoint than the one before. Now, let's get back to the compound and get you a proper meal, and a shower, and talk about what's next for you here at Secure Source."

"Yeah, about that. Before we go much further with this, I need to know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I need to know if you'll be able to find me work near enough to St. Robert and the base there so that I don't have to relocate and travel all the time. I've got a life there, and…it's not something I can just pick up and move on a whim, and I don't want to be away for weeks and months at a time. I know I made this trip work, but I'm praying it didn't already ruin everything." He wasn't going to waste time mincing words. He needed to know right away or else this wouldn't work.

"Sy, with your talent…they're gonna want to put you on the high profile cases. Celebrity security. Concerts, movie premiers, things like that. You'll be wasted as a small town rent-a-cop." there was true concern in her face and her voice as she drove them out of the park and onto the main road to Secure Source's compound.

"If there's a need I can fill, how is that a waste? There's lots of talent in this program. Just 'cause I finished first don't mean I did it the best. And I'm sure most of these folks have the people skills to take them farther'n me. And if you wanna gimme first crack at those, I'll hear ya out. Just…let me reserve the right to turn down the out of town jobs. Especially if they're short notice. And if it takes me away from another security job, I want you to send me a replacement a few days in advance so I can meet 'em, train 'em, and introduce 'em around."

"Seems reasonable." Jane said.

"Well, alright, then. I think we got ourselves a deal. I'll shower up in the locker room real quick, then meet ya in the commissary for a sandwich so we can handle the particulars?"

"Sure, Sy." she agreed as they pulled into the parking structure.

They went their separate ways, Jane to her office, and Sy to the quartermaster to return his supplies and get the key to his locker. He practically danced there, he was so giddy to get to call Shane. He did need a quick shower first, though. Which he took, grabbing some shampoo and soap out of his travel bag. When he got back to his locker, towel around his waist, he replaced the products and grabbed his phone. He sat on the bench between the rows of lockers as it booted up.

When it did, it began alerting him as if it's life depended on it. Three text messages, three voicemails, … and twenty four missed calls. That was odd. Maybe a telemarketer had gotten his number.

He checked the texts first. One was a picture of Aika from Fred, his neighbor, the other two were from Shane…two days ago. The day he went into the park.

Hey, hope you have a great first day of Survivor: Virginia! Lol! Be safe! I love you!

OMG, nutty day today! I'm gonna be doing notes for hours! I'll text you in the morning! <3

And then nothing…he chuckled at Survivor: Virginia, but was a bit concerned. Maybe she'd decided not to waste time texting him if he wasn't going to respond? He didn't know. Maybe some of the calls or voicemails were from her. He'd check before calling.

One from his mom, one from the Stephen's house phone, and the rest were from Fort Wood Therapy. That was weird. He was discharged and didn't have any appointments…surely he wasn't missing any��Shane would have said something. He listened to the voicemails. The first one was from Heather.

"Hey, Sy, it's Heather, Shane's friend here at therapy. Hey, give me a call when you get this. Thanks."

Weird…the next one was from Susan, Shane's boss. In the same tone.

"Captain Syverson, it's Susan DeForrest here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. Please give us a call when you get this. Thank you."

Again, weird. The last one was Susan again and far less friendly and measured.

"Mr. Syverson. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you need to bring Shane back to work and stop screwing around. One or both of you is in serious trouble. Either you're being hot-lined for abduction or she's fired for not showing up for work. The choice will be hers." and the line went dead.

Sy felt his stomach twist into nauseated knots at Susan's words. Shane hadn't been to work. For how long? He had to call them. He didn't want to think about the horror that might have befallen Shane while he'd been away.

"Fort Wood Therapy Clinic, this is Heather, how may I help you?" Heather said, trying to hide the obvious worry beneath the cordial demeanor.

"Heather, it's Sy, what the hell's going on with Shane? What do you mean, she hasn't been to work, I don't…"

"Let me give you to Susan, Sy. I'm sorry." She added the last two words in a whisper. After a brief moment on hold, Susan picked up.

"So, Mr. Syverson. Finally decided to call us back?"

"Cut it out, Susan." He let her blatant ignorance of his rank slide in favor of getting to the point. "Tell me what's going on."

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. I knew letting her date a patient would come back to bite me. I should never have--"

"Shut up! This isn't about you, and it isn't because of you. And you had no right to tell Shane who she could and couldn't date, anyway. I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her. Thanks for calling me. I know your intentions weren't the best when you did, but ultimately, it worked out. I may not have found out otherwise, at least until… much later."

He hung up before she could respond. He had to talk to Jane about cutting his training short. This was all his fault. If he had just come to the realization of just how important, how vital Shane really was to him before he left…well he never would have gone in the first place. She was his life now. His world. His future, and his whole heart. Tears stung his eyes as he dressed to meet Jane in the commissary. She'd have to be okay with this. She'd have to understand.

As he got closer to the smell of fry oil, seasonings, and sizzling meat on a griddle, aromas that usually made his stomach grumble with hunger, he had to swallow back the bile that crept up his throat. He found her seated at a small round four-top, already eating a salad. He sat across from her, startling her from whatever she was reading on her phone, and again when she looked at his expression and complexion.

"Sy, what's wrong? You look downright green!"

"Listen, Jane, I'm going to have to leave training early." She scowled at him, but he was more concerned with the putrid smells of boiled egg and onion coming off her chef salad. He had to get this over with quick before he wretched in the middle of the mess hall.

"That's a big ask, Sy. Gonna have to have a reason."

"I just got a call that my girlfriend is missing. I need to go home and help find her."

"Oh…yeah, that's…that's some reason. I'm really sorry to hear that. Any leads so far?"

"No, I just got off the phone with her useless boss and all she told me was that she hasn't been to work since Monday and can't be reached on her phone. I have my suspicions, but I wanna talk to the authorities."

"Okay, well. Maybe when things calm down at home, we can set you up with some online courses like we do for our assets who need refreshers, but are on assignment. I'll approve that for you."

"Thanks," he said, gratefully, "I'm also wondering if the company has any…transportation solutions for me…of an immediate nature?"

"Man, what were your letters to Santa like as a child?"

"Oh, you know, a little red wagon, end of poverty, world peace…that kind of stuff." he grinned his most charming grin.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay, but you have to return the favor somehow, Sy."

"How about, one assignments of your choosing, no questions asked?"

"Hmmm, what about five assignments?"

"Three?" he countered.

"Done." they shook hands across the table. "I would have settled at two." she smirked.

"I would have done ten." he winked at her as he turned to retrieve his belongings from his bunk and locker. He had a plane…or perhaps a chopper to catch.

Up Next: Chapter 14: No Call No Show

#Sand Castle #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #sigh for sy

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ashyblondwaves · 3 years

Note

HEADCANNON EXTRAVAGANZA TO BRING YOU SOME JOY

Family stuff

Vision talks to the twins while they are still in Wanda’s belly to get to know them before they are born. They aren’t as active as Florence but they still know that their daddy is there and respond in some way to his voice.

Vision always talks to his children as though they are grownups and almost never does the baby voice thing because he wants to treat them with the utmost respect. He’ll still attack them with kisses and cuddles and he’ll do the voice he does in episode three of Wandavision when he kisses Wanda’s belly. However, he’s never like, ok teeny weeny babies let’s put on our sockies and shoesies (no shame if anybody does this, I do this sometimes lol).

Wanda is super sweet on her kiddos but is not one to be fooled. Sometimes Vision can be naive but the kids have never even tried to pull a fast one on Wanda. She is a really loving mom and would never be verbally or physically abusive/ condescending/ rude but her kids know from the beginning to respect her. They also know that she will cut a bitch for them. Looking at you school bullies/ PTA moms/ homophobes.

Every week, they have family nights where everybody cuddles in the couch/ in Wanda and Vision’s bed. Because the boys are little it’s something suitable for them. When Wanda is pregnant she cries at whatever is going on in the movie and Vision holds back his laughter and puts on a supportive face. He and the boys attack (gently) her with kisses and hugs. The boys hold her face in their hands and look her right in the eyes and say “it’s ok mommy it’s just a movie don’t be sad” and give her a kiss. And she’s like “thank you mommy feels so much better now” and snuggles into Vision who rubs her belly soothingly and kisses her forehead.

When they are at the store, Wanda pushes the cart (like you said for balance) while one of the babies rides in the cart and Vision carries the other one. Billy and Wanda are singing wheels on the bus (he’s getting better with the words over time and he giggles and claps his hands). He knows not to kick his feet because his baby sister is still cooking and he doesn’t wanna hurt her. Vision is carrying Tommy in a baby bjorn and dancing with him/holding onto his hands/ singing a song from spongebob.

When they are out in public, the boys try to reach for everything and Wanda has trouble keeping up with them sometimes because she’s kind of waddle-running, so it’s Vision’s job for the most part to corral the boys. Wanda trades their cooperation for fruit snacks. By the end of a shopping trip, he’s not sure if Wanda or the boys are more tired and he knows that everybody probably needs a nap when they get home.

During Wanda’s pregnancies Vision does everything he can to make sure Wanda’s comfortable. He’s also obsessed with her so he’s always there anyway. It helps her back if she leans back against him, so they take up that position in the bath/ shower/ watching movies or TV in bed. Sometimes they just stand and away with her leaning back against him. Other times she bends over and holds onto his shoulders so she can stretch.

Wanda has fallen while adjusting to her new center of gravity during her pregnancies and Vision was terrified to leave her side after that. He wants to be there to protect her and the babies. He is worried about her falling and hurting herself or getting stuck in the tub regardless of whether or not she can use her magic to help herself.

Vision ties Wanda’s shoes during her pregnancies and when he’s getting back up he kisses her belly and her lips on the way.

Angst

Wanda has passed out from exhaustion/ dehydration when her morning sickness was especially bad. Vision was really scared when he found her laying on the bathroom/bedroom floor. Everything was ok in the end but she had to spend a couple of days in the hospital getting fluids and making sure the babies were ok. It was the most agonizing time in Vision’s life. He stayed home from missions until Wanda was well again.

Sometimes Wanda and Vision still have really bad nightmares. They get especially bad for both of them when Wanda is pregnant because things are changing and they always feel a bit helpless because they can never be 100% sure that everything is fine in the world. They take a lot of midnight showers and baths and have comfort sex to calm down. A lot of time is spent with their foreheads pressed together to ground them.

Vision has gotten kidnapped on a mission before and it took a week to get him back. He was seriously (not gravely) injured but when he woke up in a hospital bed, Wanda was asleep in a chair next to him with one hand in his and the other on her belly. When he rolled over to get a better view of her face, pain shot through him and he winced, waking Wanda up. She burst into tears and made him promise to always come back to her.

Wanda has also been kidnapped on a mission. Vision asked Pepper to watch the boys (who are a year old at this point) for a couple of days while he and the other Avengers find her. When they break into the facility where she is being held, it looks like she might be gravely injured at first. Her vitals are weak but she’s alive. When he takes her into his arms she groans but curls into him. At the hospital, she wakes up to Vision holding her hands and staring off into space. He almost looks like a broken man and when their eyes meet she can see how scared he was. They cry and kiss and revel in being together.

One time on a mission, they aren’t speaking because they’d been having an argument when they got called to headquarters. They still squeeze each other’s hands on the ride over but they are completely silent. During the fight, one of them goes down and the other is worried the last thing they said to each other was something stupid during a fight. Everyone lives and there’s some crazy hot “I thought I lost you” sex in the shower later but it was really scary.

They are both risk takers and would sacrifice themself to save others. They fight about the other one putting themself in harms way.

Wanda and Vision get very worried when the other is out on missions. When Wanda is pregnant she’s extra worried and waits at headquarters for the Quinjet to land to make sure she can see Vision step off. One time he flew separately for some reason and he saw Wanda sobbing on the landing pad and thought something was wrong with the babies. The other Avenger’s hadn’t gotten the chance to explain when Vision pulled her into his arms.

One time Wanda had to be carried off of the Quinjet and Vision staggered over to her. She gave him a pained but sly smile and teased him through her pain. Everything was ok but she needed him to stop worrying so that she could stop worrying.

Wanda’s hormones make her seriously jealous. Vision is a hot piece of ass and she’s always worrying that someone is going to try and snatch her man away. Or worse, that Vision will find someone better. She gets mad at him because she thinks the pizza delivery guy was flirting with him. He calms her and feeds her pizza and all is well.

Her jealousy has led to full fledged arguments. She demands proof of his fidelity and he is seriously hurt by the accusation and leaves the house for a couple of hours to cool off and have some time alone. She’s terrified that this will be the thing that breaks them even though he means everything to her. When he gets back, she throws herself at him and they have a long discussion about how her jealousy can get out of hand sometimes. He also takes his time explaining how in love with her he is, how there could never be anybody else for him, and makes love to her nice and slow in the shower. And then the bed. And then the bed again.

Cutesy

Wanda and Vision sing to the kiddos during bath time. Vision makes sure to sing to big bird as well when she’s cooking in Wanda’s belly.

Vision says good morning and goodnight to Wanda’s belly during her pregnancies.

In his sleep, Vision still rubs Wanda’s belly and tries to calm the baby if she’s being particularly active.

Wanda is the most adorable thing in the world to Vision. Especially when she is grumpy in the morning with bed head and waddling to the kitchen.

I hope these make you smile :)

PS: can you tell my favorite place for them to have sex is the shower???

These are fabulous and had me smiling the whole way through. Thank you for sharing them. They sound like they're pros at making shower sex super hot and I am here for it!

"Vision is a hot piece of ass" put this on my urn, please.

Ahh I loved these so so much. Again, thank you! I really am so glad to have something fun to read during these long nights of work.

#follower headcanons

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nevervalentines · 4 years

Note

(From the fluff/general list)

“Any RWBY ship! 12 or 13 :)”

#12 “how did you get in here?”

#13 “for starters, that’s impossible.”

hi!!! thank u!!! I wrote u a lil baby bumbleby high school au, I hope that’s ok!! they’re girlfriends and they are SO annoying

*******

Taiyang has never been very good at dolling out punishments, but when Yang comes home from school dragging her feet for the second week in a row, he really doesn’t have a choice.

She looks miserable, flannel tied loosely around her waist, ponytail messy, sporting a shiner that’s reddened the skin around her right eye, along her cheekbone. Already inflamed, it promises to bruise, and he thinks that should be punishment enough. But.

“They already called, huh?” Yang slumps up the front porch steps. “Would it help if I told you he started it?”

Taiyang rubs at the back of his neck. “Your principal said otherwise.” He cringes, trying to soften the delivery. “Apparently there were witnesses. Something like – your entire gym class?”

“Mercury had it coming.” Yang stops on the top step. Her backpack dangles from one arm, dragging the ground. “Can’t the fact that he clocked me back be enough?” She waves a hand. “I learned my lesson, and all that.”

“Afraid not, baby girl. This is the second time in as many weeks.” He corrals her gently into the house and roots through the freezer, tossing her an icepack while he deliberates. “A grounding is fair, right?” More to himself than anybody. “A week, maybe?”

“Can I still see –”

“No visitors. That means no Blake, too.”

“An entire week!” Yang slams the icepack onto the kitchen counter. The blue liquid sloshes, the plastic pouch threatening to pop. “That’s bullshit.”

“Okay,” he says, exasperated, now. “Room. Now. Don’t let Ruby hear you talking like that.”

The muscles in Yang’s jaw tick, heat rolling off her in waves, but she pinches her mouth tight. If her eyes flash, he doesn’t mention it, just watches her stomp toward the staircase. Hears fading footsteps, the slam of her bedroom door.

When music starts blaring, he allows it, riot grrrl punk pop spitting from around the door frame. He can picture her pouting, touting loud music and bruised knuckles like armor. Figures he’ll let it slide, just until after dinner. A week without Blake might be consequence enough.

Yang reclines on rumpled sheets, too pissed to change out of her day clothes, shoes kicked up on her bed, arms behind her head.

A five-day suspension, a week without seeing Blake. It’s a promise of purgatory and, worse, boredom. Her eye throbs, the skin around the socket already softening into a bone deep hum of pain.

Time passes in blurry pigments; she swims in and out of a doze while the day fades into a sticky-blue dusk. She ignores her dad’s calls for dinner, ignores Ruby’s hesitant knock on the door, lets the room darken around her – watches the sky outside ripen and split.

It’s almost summer now, and the box fan churns uselessly at her bedside, the skin of her back is sticky with sweat, the sheets below her cloying and damp. Outside, the streetlights wink on, one by one, and the blurry white noise of the fan is almost enough to mask the scrabbling outside her window. Almost.

When Blake’s head pops over the windowsill, Yang about pisses her pants. Blake grins, her teeth a flash of white in the darkness, ears on a swivel, pressing her face close to the wire mesh of the window screen.

Bleary and half-asleep, with Blake only a silhouette against a rapidly darkening sky, it’s like Yang has conjured her directly out of a dream.

Blake’s voice is strained, leveraging herself up on her forearms. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” Then. “Let me in, edgelord.”

Yang scrambles out of bed, heart in her throat, fumbles the screen’s latch open, helps Blake haul herself over the sill. Two hands under her arms, she pulls, Blake’s sneakers scraping against the paneled siding of the house.

Blake tumbles inside the bedroom, landing on top of Yang with an oof. She ushers in the sharp smell of fresh cut grass, cool nighttime air, summer-sweet.

“How did you get in here?” Yang sounds a little breathless, even to her own ears, and Blake settles more comfortably on top of her, so pleased with herself that Yang has to actively stop herself from kissing her smug smile away.

“Your window is right above the garage,” Blake says. She shifts her weight, forcing Yang to bow into the close weave of her room’s carpet. “I just had to get up there and,” a vertical shrug, a grin, “it was easy.”

“I’m grounded for a week,” Yang says, a little despairing, mouth tilting into a pout. “My dad says I can’t see you.”

“It’s dark, you can, like, hardly see me anyway,” Blake says. She wriggles on top of her, curls her fingers into the fabric of Yang’s tank top. “You’re kind of sweaty.”

“Did you climb up the side of my house just to insult me?” Yang asks. She feels a surge of affection so strong, she wonders if it might break something inside her, like there’s no more room left in her chest for anything but this: Blake smiling, nuzzling close. Blake’s slight frame settled in the sling of her hips, the too-warm press of the bare skin of her legs against Yang’s, one ankle hooked around her own.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Blake says. She ducks her head, rests her chin on Yang’s chest, looking up at her through her lashes. “And seeing as I found you crying in the dark, I made the right call.”

Yang struggles up onto her arms, dislodging Blake who sits back on her calves, amused.

“I wasn’t crying.” This, almost a yell, before she remembers herself and lowers her voice to a harsh whisper. “I was just upset.”

Sobering, Blake rocks to her feet, reaching down to tangle her hand with Yang’s and pull her to a stand. She pushes her onto the edge of her mattress, touches her cheek, gentle, careful to avoid the bruise.

Yang’s eyes are adjusting now, and she can just make out the soft-round of Blake’s face, the flat glint of her eyes in the dark.

“I know, baby.” Blake’s voice is throaty, a little sweet.

She kneels, unlacing Yang’s converse one by one, tugging them off before kissing her knees, her ankles. Yang says nothing, just watches Blake in a daze, breath hitched high in her throat, a rosy blush mottling the long line of her throat.

“I’m sorry you’re grounded,” Blake says. She pushes Yang to her back and follows, climbing back on top of her. This time, Yang has enough sense to wrap her arms around Blake’s back, tugging her securely against her until they press close, chest to chest.

“I don’t even get why,” Yang says. A pout. “He was talking shit about you, everybody heard it.”

She tilts her face up, hoping for a kiss. Blake retreats, just barely, nudging her nose with her own, instead. When she talks, Yang can feel her breath against her mouth.

“You did punch Mercury in the face, Yang.”

“It was gym class, it was an accident.”

“You guys were – you guys were playing badminton.”

“Mistakes happen.”

“You were opposite sides of the net.”

Yang looks at her sideways, sly. “Like I said.”

“For starters, that’s impossible.” Blake tucks her lips into her mouth, suddenly shy. “But also – thank you.” She leans in, brushes a kiss against Yang’s jaw. “You know I don’t need you to fight my battles –”

She quiets Yang’s immediate noise of agreement with another kiss, this time at the corner of her mouth.

“— but it was really sweet.”

“I missed you,” Yang says, a hint of a whine. She traces a hand down Blake’s back, slips it under the edge of her shirt, strokes a finger along her hip.

“It’s only been five hours, Yang.” Blake’s voice is soft with laughter, almost adoring, and she leans down, offers another kiss, this time to the apple of her cheek. “But maybe the week apart can start tomorrow.”

“Or maybe the day after that,” Yang says. She tilts her head up, splays the flat of her hand against Blake’s back, urging her closer. “He didn’t really specify when.”

“You’re so smart,” Blake whispers.

She eases against her, t-shirts rucking up, pressed breasts-to-belly-to-hip, the oscillation of the fan drowning Blake’s whimper as Yang slips a thigh between her legs and grins, all teeth and flush.

Blake kisses her, full, nudges carefully, lip to lip, until Yang opens her mouth, hands tightening at her back.

“Stay a while,” she says, rolls her tongue into Blake’s mouth, feels Blake’s hand come up to pet, soft, at the skin underneath her eye.

“Just for a minute,” Blake says, then presses back in, a breeze stirring warm air through the open window.

It’s mid-morning when Ruby shoves open the bedroom door, Yang and Blake curled close under the sheets, asleep. They jar awake at the noise, Yang’s arm tightening around Blake’s back.

Ruby sticks her face inside, hair tousled with sleep, rubbing her eyes with a fist. Her words crack with a yawn, and she blinks at them slowly.

“Hi, Blake. By the way, Yang, dad says you’re double grounded, but also to let you both know breakfast is ready.”

She closes the door behind her and Blake’s laugh follows her all the way down the stairs.

#my writing #rwby #bumbleby #i tried to speed write so i didnt overthink it!#blake WOULD and WILL terrorize all of her gf's parental figures thx 4 ur time #hearticho

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literatehiss · 3 years

Text

Feline Feelings

Read on AO3 here “Jon you know how to look after him, but here are the numbers for his vet if anything goes wrong. Don’t feed him too many treats. I know you can’t resist when he starts crying but he’s a master manipulator. If you’ve fed him enough then he isn’t hungry he’s just greedy”

“Yes Georgie, I know, I know. Martin is keeping hold of the treats. Enjoy your holiday”

“We will.” And with that, Georgie walked out of the flat, leaving a sadly mewing Admiral in Jon’s arms. Martin heaved the bag of cat food into the little cupboard by the front door, turning to see Jon’s absolutely besotted look as the love of his life stared down at the Admiral.

Martin had not had the opportunity to see Jon with the Admiral, or any cat really, much before. He’s heard tales from Melanie that all of Jon’s prickly nature vanished in the presence of the Admiral and it was even better to watch than he had expected. Jon slid down the wall, cradling the Admiral between his legs, arms wrapped around him, scratching under the Maine Coon's chin. The cat in question was purring like an engine in Jon’s arms, apparently perfectly content to be snuggled.

Was Jon like this with all cats or was it just the Admiral? This was something Martin might need to do a little experiment with, once the Admiral was gone. He looked so relaxed, all the tense anxiety melting from his as he pressed kisses to the Admiral’s forehead until the cat reached out a paw to his mouth, claws extending slightly to press into his lips. Jon pressed another kiss to the pad of the Admiral’s paw before opening his arms. The Admiral sat and purred for a few seconds before jumping out of his lap to explore his new domain.

Jon winced as he rose from his crouch, taking Martin’s hand gratefully as he stood up.

What then proceeded, was the best week of Martin’s life so far.

He kind of expected Jon to be the sort of guy to baby talk cats and he was prepared for that to be unbearably cute. He was wrong. Jon talked to Admiral in the exact same tone he spoke to Martin and it was easily the most entertaining and endearing thing Martin had ever seen. His same calm deep voice as usual talking to the Admiral as if the large cat could understand hi-

Could Jon understand cats? Could they understand him?

He was sure this calm speaking to the Admiral was nothing new, but the thought that Jon was hearing a response to his affectionate talk had Martin moving to the kitchen so he could crack up with laughter in private.

Martin was vaguely aware that Jon had known the Admiral from before his brief stay with Georgie, but the cat looked so comfortable, so at peace in his arms, that he had to ask.

“So, uh, when did Georgie first get him” he said, taking advantage of the Admiral’s upturned tummy to give him a scratch.

“Oh, I think it was about a year before we broke up. He was only a week or so old, Georgie found him in the street. He’s always been a good boy.” This last line was still spoken in Jon’s usual tone but it was clearly directed down at the cat.

“Um, you know how you understand all languages? Can you… um-”

“Yes Martin, I can understand the Admiral.”

“Oh, what… what does he say? Is it like, full sentences or…?”

“A little of column A a little of column B. Its mostly images and feelings with certain words and phrases thrown in. He doesn’t really know names, he associates people with smells and sensations rather than words but well, he knows the words for food and play and hug and love, as well as a few others. You should hear him when Georgie steps into the room after being out for a while. Its just ‘love love love’ on repeat. But yes he’s fairly easy to understand.”

“I’m curious, what am I?”

Jon turned to the Admiral and asked politely, “Admiral, what do you think of Martin? Oh?” He looked back up at Martin, “You are the sensation of wool and fog, you used to be wool and tea but that uh, changed. What do you think of me Admiral?” Jon laughed as the Admiral let out a little mew. “Ok, that’s a lot of love, but what about in general? Oh? Apparently I am, hmm how to put it in words. Warm and quiet and static.” Martin smiled, affection curling at the corners of his mouth.

“I think that suits you very well.”

Eventually the Admiral had to go home. Melanie and Georgie came back from their honeymoon, tanned and flush with happiness. The Admiral let out a particularly upset cry as he was led out of the apartment, a sound that made Jon clutch at the sleeve of Martin’s jumper.

The flat was quieter without their furry housemate. Martin had never worried about Jon when he went out to work before, secure in the knowledge that he was safe and no doubt reading quietly to himself, but now that he had seen how happy and lively he could be, Martin had an idea that he needed to test out first.

Jon had never been to the cafe Martin was leading him too, and was perplexed by the double doors. Martin couldn’t help his grin as they stepped inside. Jon pulled on his sleeve until he leant down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. They sat down, ordered their food and Martin slipped his phone out of his pocket as the first of the cats strode up to Jon.

It turned out that it wasn’t just that Jon loved the cats, they were clearly enamoured with him too. They were lucky there weren’t any other customers who could get upset or confused as every single cat in the room started to approach Jon, curling between his ankles and leaping up onto his lap. A greying tabby jumped down from his pedestal next to Jon’s head and began to groom his messy hair. A few staff members peeked out to see a man speaking calmly and quietly, as serious as if they were having a business meeting, to the cats that were crowding around him.

Martin paid for another hour. He had to physically pull Jon away after that.

And well, that settled it.

It was a fine enough day in July, the sun shone overhead and Jon was bouncing in the car seat slightly, a habit that made Martin’s heart hurt with how much he loved his silly boyfriend. They had pulled up to the rescue place and Martin held Jon’s hand as they walked in. He hadn’t told Jon where they were going exactly but Jon had seen the cat carrier in the back of the car and he was an avatar of the god of knowing too much, Martin knew he wouldn’t exactly be able to keep it a secret for long. An older woman opened the plastic door that led to the small hallway to a chorus of meows. Martin stood back as he watched Jon press his fingers gently to the air gap on one of the windows, visibly melting when the cat inside came up to sniff, its nose just about brushing his fingers.

Martin had never been so in love as he watched Jon go to each and every window in the room, greeting each of the cats in turn. He knew that if he didn’t get Jon back on task he was never going to leave.

“So which ones are calling to you the most Jon?” his wonderful boyfriend turned to look at him, eyes wide and pupil’s blown in a similar manner to the way the Admiral’s had done when he had become over excited.

“All of them.”

“The flat isn’t that big” Jon actually looked like he might cry, “You know, they need socialisers here, people to come and play with the cats. We could ask the lady at the front desk about it, but for now, you’re gonna have to pick one to take home.”

Jon did another round, talking to each of the cats and letting them sniff the tips of his fingers. One kitten who had been climbing up the side of the window slipped back down with a sad mew and Martin watched in real time as Jon’s heart broke. That little kitten had only it’s mother in the same room as it.

Jon turned to look at him.

“One cat Jon.”

Jon continued looking at him.

“But the mother will never get adopted at her age Martin.”

Martin couldn’t bare the sad look in Jon’s eyes and really, they had the room for two he was just trying to curb Jon’s wish for feline company.

He sighed.

“Fine, we will have to see if they have another carrier though.”

“They do, I asked one of the assistants.” Martin gave Jon an unimpressed look.

The paperwork was signed quickly enough and the cats were corralled into their carriers. Back at the flat, Jon carefully released them into the living room and watched like a devoted parent as the newly named “Major” and “Lieutenant” began to explore the room. He turned to Martin, eyes bright and shining.

“Thank you Martin, you didn’t have to do this”

“Don’t be silly Jon, they make you happy. I would do anything to make you as happy as you have been today”

Jon looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky as he pulled him down into a kiss.

Jon, sees many many cats: Silly Time Mode activated

#The Admiral #jonathan sims #Martin Blackwood #JonMartin

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hopecountysfavhoe · 3 years

Text

‘The Confession’

Happy New Year! This is for @oorah22 thank you for asking me to write this, sorry it took so long! I hope you all enjoy this!

John

It was time. Finally after weeks of chasing the Deputy around like a puppy, John could finally do what he was made for, he could fulfil his purpose. That Deputy and all their friends were sinners but today they would finally be set free. Today they would say Yes. Today they would feel their sins carved into them and feel as they are cut from their bodies and minds.

It was all coming together, now those headaches will be brought into their family, Joseph's family. So why did John stare in the mirror so emptily when he should have been enjoying the thought of Hope County's biggest sinners being brought to their knees?

He should be calm and cool and collected, but possibly even a little happy. Surely that wasn't a sin...Was it? No it couldn't be, but John still felt as though he should hide his true feelings from his men. Those men, the ones standing in front of his door, obedient as ever.

It pleased him to hear their conversations even if they were supposed to be standing in silence. They praised him and what he's done for the Deputy, as well as each other. They get excited when he's taken the Deputy and they were excited that day, the day of the Confession.

John adjusted the collar of his blue silk shirt and brushed his hair back once more, smoothing the pesky flyaways before he stepped out to his followers.

Mary May

It was a pretty peaceful morning for Mary May; the Deputy was this close to kicking John all the way to Missoula and it showed with the lessened Peggie activity. The people of Falls End were exhausted but happy that the Peggies seemed to be falling back, but Mary May wasn't relaxing yet. She'd seen John Seed, knows the way he works, and he isn't the type that admits defeat.

John Seed is a thorn in your side, and until you take him out he's always going to be there, digging deeper and deeper and getting more and more irritating.

But even if Mary May was holding her breath until the second John Seed was dead, it was nice to see the people getting a break. They weren't coming to the Spread Eagle to drink because they were scared or because they were depressed about their losses anymore, they came in because they were happy and they wanted a chance to laugh and talk with their friends.

Mary May was always fighting back the urge to tell them to keep their guard up, stay vigilant, because even if they didn't want to believe it, they weren't free. The Deputy was good at that. Even though they don't do much talking, they had a way of making sure you're careful.

Mary May was getting the bar ready to open again and heard the front door open. She reached for her gun and held the pistol behind her back so that it would be out of sight. When she looked out the back window, she saw the Deputy standing in the middle of the bar.

Mary May instantly relaxed and walked over to the Deputy. "Hey there, Deputy, what's up?"

The Deputy's body language was nervous, even a little scared as they glanced behind them out the windows of the bar. "I've heard word that John's getting agitated." The Deputy said and Mary May chuckled.

"Probably 'cause of you blowing up all of his silos, damn eyesores." Mary May walked behind the bar, shuffling the bottles around behind the counter.

"Just keep your head on a swivel ok? I've got the feeling John won't be showing us his good side." The Deputy was still nervous but Mary May gave them an understanding nod.

"I'll get the word out, thanks Deputy. Anything else I can help you with?" The Deputy seemed relieved at Mary May's answer but quickly dispelled it from their face.

"I've got to go, heard some chatter about Peggies moving to take back the auto shop. I'll stop by if I hear anything else." The Deputy turned and opened the door to the bar to leave, glancing back at Mary May again before letting the door swing shut again.

Mary May spent the rest of the morning talking to people about families that were supposed to be getting boxes of food delivered to them. The cult had left several families scared and without their main providers, meaning they had turned to the people of Falls End for help. Of course they were happy to help, Pastor Jerome and Mary May just needed to get the people together to share their extra food.

Mary May left the Spread Eagle to Casey while she went down to the church to talk to Pastor Jerome. "Hey Mary May?" Casey asked before she opened the door to leave.

"Yeah, Casey?" Mary May paused to hear what he had to say.

"Can you take the trash out to the dumpster around back before you go? I've some soup here that needs watchin'." Casey motioned to two big bags of trash next to the bar and Mary May nodded.

"Sure thing, I'll be back soon." Mary May grabbed the two bags of trash and walked them out of the Spread Eagle and around back. She tossed the bags into their large dumpster and reached back up to close the lid when something stung her neck.

She cursed and smacked it, thinking it was a bee, but then paused when she felt an odd texture under her fingers. She yanked whatever was stuck to her neck out and realized she'd seen one before. It was a bliss bullet.

Mary May's eyes grew wide when she realized that meant that Johns men must be nearby. Hoping to get help before the bliss pumped into her system, Mary May scrambled around to the front of the bar, screaming about getting inside.

The rest of the people in Falls End didn't have any idea what she was talking about. They all grabbed their guns but parts of them assumed that that was the day Mary May finally lost it, but then they saw her stumble.

"What do you mean, we're under attack?" One man demanded, stepping outside of his home with no gun in his hand. Then he felt a sting in his neck and he smacked it the same way Mary May did.

He started panicking when he saw the bliss bullet, not even knowing what it was but just knowing that it was bad. That got more people to start panicking, even bringing people out of the church.

Just as people were starting to move and get their guns ready for a fight, canisters got tossed in lines around people, making smoke leach into the air. Everyone started choking, gasping for a breaths-worth of air.

If Mary May wasn't feeling dizzy, confused, and close to passing out before then she certainly was now. She fell to her knees, crawling around trying to find a gun or a pocket of air to breath. Thankfully she found a shot gun on the ground and she reached for it, but just as she lifted her hand to grab it, a foot came down on her hand.

Mary May forced her head up to look at the owner of the foot crushing her hand into the dirt and was aghast to see who it was. John Seed was towering over her, a gas mask strapped to his face. But even with the mask on Mary May could see the pleasure all over his face.

"Hello again, Envy." John smiled that wide, empty smile at her and kept his boot firmly placed on her hand.

Pastor Jerome

Pastor Jerome expected Mary May any minute now to discuss the plan with the food deliveries so to pass time he sat with an injured Resistance member and read from the Bible.

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."

He could tell that the verses were helping the Resistance member, a young man named Edward that had been coming to the church in Falls End since he was a child. He had multiple bruised ribs and a broken arm from a run in with the cult a few days prior.

Pastor Jerome was about to read another verse when he heard a commotion outside the church. Another Resistance member ran inside the church, practically skidding to the stop in front of Jerome and Edward.

"Pastor! Something's happened to Mary May!" She motioned outside and Pastor Jerome leapt up from his seat.

He rushed out to the Resistance member's side and saw Mary May screaming about getting inside. The people of Falls End were panicking as Mary May stumbled to the ground. Movement at the edge of the buildings caught Pastor Jerome's eye and he could barely get a word out before he was hit in the back of the head with the butt of a gun.

The force of the hit to the back of his head knocked Pastor Jerome to the ground, nearly making him tumble down the steps of the church. The Resistance member that had warned Pastor Jerome had been knocked out at the same time he had been hit, falling limp next to him.

Pastor Jeromes vision swam as he watched smoke bombs get tossed into the heart of Falls End, bringing the people to their knees as John's men went around knocking guns out of the people's hands. A cult member grabbed Pastor Jerome's shoulder and pressed the barrel of their gun into his back.

"Get up." They demanded gruffly and forced Pastor Jerome to his feet, despite the pounding in his head.

The cultist shoved Pastor Jerome in the direction of the smoke as it was dissipating from the movements of the Peggies. John Seed stepped out of the smoke, peeling a gas mask off of his head dramatically.

"Hello, Pastor." John smiled and handed his gas mask to a cultist standing behind him. Pastor Jerome locked his jaw and straightened up.

"What are you doing, John?" He asked and John glanced back at the cultists corralling the people of Falls End and let out a short, menacing chuckle.

"I'm acting out the will of the Father, Pastor. Are you ready to Atone?" John asked and stared Pastor Jerome down, his cold blue eyes already searching for a place to write his sins.

Nick Rye

It was a quiet day at the Rye house. Kim and Carmina were at the house while Nick was at the hangar working on a plane for the Deputy. Even though he's offered to let them use Carmina (the plane) the Deputy still insisted on taking out a different plane so that he could have Carmina in case of an emergency.

He made sure that the plane, affectionately named 'Shitbox' by the Deputy, was always in working condition so today he was working on the landing gear. For some reason one of the wheels was locking up which was very dangerous for landing and taxiing.

Nick just finished taking the wheel off when he heard tires screeching to a halt out by the road. Assuming that it was the Deputy in trouble, Nick rushed out of the hangar. Then he saw a swarm of Peggies with guns aiming straight at him, surrounding the hangar before he could grab his gun.

"Nick Rye! You've been Marked!" One of them shouted.

"Fuck you!" Nick shouted back, creeping back towards the hangar, hoping to be able to reach for his gun.

"You've been called by John to atone, now don't make any sudden moves! Wouldn't want anything to happen to that family of yours." A dangerous mix of cold fear and hot rage filled Nick's body.

He didn't know if they were at the house, but it definitely wasn't out of John's comfort range to target them. Nick would be very pleased if he kicked and screamed about not going with them, but if they had Kim and Carmina...Nick just couldn't risk that.

Nick locked his jaw and considered his situation. If Kim had enough time before the Peggies got in then she hopefully was able to send the Deputy a message. He didn't like relying on the Deputy for help but he was hopeful that they would come.

"Fine, but if I go then my family stays." Nick said and the Peggies glanced at each other.

"John only requested your atonement, not Kim's so we'll agree." One of them said and Nick nodded.

Nick glanced back at the hangar and took a deep breath. He turned back around and did the thing he never wanted to do, the thing he always promised Kim he wouldn't do, he raised his hands above his head in surrender and walked out of his hangar into the light of day.

Grace

Grace squared her shoulders and let out a long, calming breath. The stock of her gun pressed against her shoulder, right in its proper place as Grace lined up the barrel of her gun with a large white tailed deer munching on tall grass in a small clearing in the trees.

Grace had been hiking the Holland Valley mountains for an hour looking for a fair sized deer, something big enough for her to give some of the meat to the people of Hope County. And after tracking and making deer calls for an hour, she was finally close enough to get a good shot on one.

She made sure the barrel of her gun was stable and was a heartbeat away from pulling the trigger when her radio crackled to life. "Grace? You got a copy?" It was Kim.

Even with the volume turned down, the sound of the radio made the deer turn and sprint away from the clearing. Grace cursed under her breath and reached for her radio.

"I've got a copy." She grumbled and waited for the response.

"Peggies just stormed the place, said they're looking for Nick but they aren't using force and they keep saying stuff about an atonement? I just got a hold of the Deputy and they said they just got a distress call from Falls End." Kim sounded frantic and panicked as she talked quietly into the radio.

Grace cursed and stood up. "Kim, do not engage with the Peggies ok? Me and Jess will be there soon, we're on our way now." Grace said as she swung her gun onto her shoulder.

"Ok thank you, please be here soon! I don't know how long these Peggies will stay outside."

"We'll be there Kim, keep Carmina close and hang tight." Grace told Kim and started climbing down the mountain in the direction of her truck.

"Jess you have your radio on?" Grace called into her radio, hoping for a response.

"Yep, heard everything. I'm heading to Nick and Kim's house now. You need a pick up?" Jess said, and Grace was very happy to hear her voice.

"I'm close to my truck just head straight to Nick and Kim's house, I should be there in twenty minutes how far out are you?"

"Same time, gotta go I'll see you at the house." Jess said.

"Roger that." Grace said and hooked her radio back on her vest. She hurried down the mountain. Luckily, when she tracked the deer she had done a huge circle, almost winding up right next to her truck.

She found her truck and jumped into the drivers seat, quickly speeding down the road as fast as she could. Every minute that ticked by made Grace even more nervous. Grace spent a lot of time with Nick and Kim and Carmina and they were good people.

She had to get there in time, had to be there in time to make sure that they were all safe. She knew Nick, had known him for a long time and she knew that he would stand up to the Peggies but she didn't know what he'd do if Kim and Carmina were threatened.

Grace skidded to a stop in Nick and Kim's driveway, leaping out of the truck the moment she threw it in park. There wasn't any sign of Peggies, except for the tire marks in the dirt road.

Kim flew out of the house holding a shotgun in her hand, but relaxed when she saw it was Grace. "Oh thank God! They took Nick! I don't know where they're taking him but they took him!" Kim panicked and told Grace as Grace walked over to her.

"Are you ok? Where's Carmina?" Grace asked and Kim motioned to the house.

"She's inside, they didn't hurt me or her. Said that John only wanted Nick. That fucking Seed! I'll kill him myself if he lays a finger on my husband!" Kim gestured wildly with the gun and Grace raised her hands to try and calm her down.

"Kim? Kim! I get it, I understand but you need to calm down, for Carmina ok? You can handle this, nothing can break Nick, he'll be ok. I'm sure the Deputy knows and is already going to rescue Nick, Jess is going to be here any minute and one of us is going to go after John ourselves, alright?" Grace gently grabbed Kim by her shoulders to steady her.

Kim had tears in her eyes but she was obviously filled with rage. Grace's presence was helping her, although the sound of a truck made her tense up again.

A blue pickup truck slid to a stop next to Grace's and Jess hopped out of the drivers seat, her bow already drawn for a fight. She lowered her bow when she saw Grace standing with Kim.

"What happened?" She asked a jittery Kim as she approached her and Grace.

"Fucking Peggies surrounded the house and wouldn't let me leave, they took Nick but I don't know where!" Kim shook her head as she got even more upset.

Grace continued to try and help calm her down while talking to Jess about what to do. "We have to trail them, they're probably taking Nick up to John's bunker so at least we know the way." Jess nodded and Grace turned her head back around to look at Kim.

"I'm sorry we didn't make it in time to stop them Kim, but we're gonna get him back ok?" Grace kept a firm hand on Kim's shoulder as Kim nodded.

"Thank you, both of you, thank you." Kim tried to force a smile for them but couldn't hide her fear and anger that quaked it's way into her voice.

"You go inside with Carmina, ok? Stay inside and wait here, we're going to get Nick back." Grace told her and Jess nodded behind her.

Kim looked between the two friends and started crying. "Please...please find my husband." She said and embraced Grace tightly. Grace wrapped her arms around Kim, being careful not to squeeze to hard while also being comforting.

Kim pulled away from the hug, brutally aware of the fact that she was a blubbering mess but it didn't faze Grace. Grace kept her hand on Kim's shoulder and handed her a tissue. "We'll find him." She promised and Kim wiped her eyes with the tissue Grace handed her.

She nodded and turned around to go back in the house to check on Carmina.

Grace turned around and looked at Jess. "Which direction did you come from?" She asked.

"Whitetail Mountains, came down the same road you did I'm guessing." Jess said and motioned to the trucks.

"Roger that...so they aren't heading in the direction of John's bunker, why would they take the long route?"

"I don't know, but-"

The radios on both of their persons suddenly came to life. "Guys, I just got word that Falls End is getting attacked by John, I need all available hands on deck, I don't know what he's planning." It was the Deputy.

Grace and Jess shared a look and Grace answered the radio call. "Roger that Deputy, me and Jess are here with Kim, Nick's just been taken and we think that's John's men are probably taking him to Falls End. We'll be there." She said and waited for the answer.

"Understood, I'm heading to Falls End now, five minutes out." The Deputy responded.

"Roger that, me and Jess are moving out now." Grace finished and hooked her radio back on her vest again.

She walked up the front steps of Nick and Kim's house and knocked on the door before she walked inside. Kim was standing in the living room while holding Carmina in her arms, gently bouncing her to help soothe her.

Seeing Kim holding Carmina made Grace that much more determined to bring Nick back. If she could do this one thing for them, Grace knew it wouldn't be nearly enough to pay them back for all of their kindness to her over the years but she hoped it would at least keep this family together.

"There's trouble down at Falls End, me, Jess, and the Deputy are going there now, we're sure that's where they took Nick." Grace explained and Kim nodded, looking down at Carmina.

She looked away from her daughter and up at Grace, a worried look on her face. "Do your best, I've seen what that can do." She said and Grace nodded. She took one more look at Carmina and Kim and left the house, motioning to Jess to follow her as she climbed into her truck.

"What's the plan?" Jess asked as she got into the passenger side seat, slamming her door shut behind her.

"We're going to go to Falls End, and find the Peggie that tells us where John Seed is so we can put a bullet in his head." Grace said and backed out of Nick and Kim's driveway, turning in the direction of Falls End.

#far cry 5 #far cry #john seed #fanfic #far cry fanfic #mary may #mary may fairgrave #grace armstrong #nick rye #kim rye #carmina rye #jess black #pastor jerome #requests #finally got this done #happy new year

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sw124 · 4 years

Text

[Lamia-Birdy-Bitty Daily life!12]

/Pro-Revenge/p1

Hello my Lamia lovers how are you all doing, good I hope...

Yes as you see by the title change, there are new additions to the family as stated in my last entry. Bird-Bitties an they are so much fun to have around and they came around at the right time. Now as you’ve seen yes this is not a entitled parent/person story this is a pro-revenge story. Fair warning there is a mention of bitty abuse and mentioning of death so those with sensitive bitties please don’t read this.

Alright first backstory! Near the apartments where I live is a small neighborhood similar to the one you’d find in Ed,Edd’n Eddy but unlike that show there’s a few lovely old Victorian style homes, you all know the kind I’m talking about. The kind you’d see like in the 18 or 1900’s, the wrap around porches, turret coned tower rooms, yeah the kind any little kid would dream their grandparents lived in. Well one of these homes that is painted a lovely velvet red lives my two elderly friends Rosie and Leo from New Orleans.

The two moved up here some time ago and have been such a wonderful set of friends, its because of them I found Chip! So anyway Rosie and Leo are the kind of old people you’d want living in your neighborhood, both cook food that tastes so good you’d beg on your hands and knee’s for more. They’re retirees of course but I don’t know from what they retired from and never really asked. Rosie was the picture of a southern grandmother, she was round with big arms that just squeezed any/all negativity out of you. Leo was a stout man with round cheeks, he looked like Doc from Snow White with a warm welcoming personality to boot. Both born and raised in New Orleans.

They moved up here cause its quiet and somewhat peaceful, now these two have...of all things a Mamba named Phthalo who is full sized...and has no fangs or venom. Phthalo was a rescue they got from an owner who was trying to [illegally] breed Mambas without fangs and this person believed removing the fangs and venom sacs would do it...that guy is now in jail for 5-10 years for bitty cruelty. Phthalo was the only one who suffered from this surgery; despite their reputation; Rosie took Phthalo in.

Leo is a hobbyist by trade, an when I say that I mean it. There is no hobby safe from this man, he will hunt down a hobby and master it in no time....well to a degree. Long story short, Leo forged some lovely snake-dentures for Phthalo so if he ever got out he has protection.

[He sorta made them more like python teeth, but those puppies are so sharp if he bit you he’d take a chunk of meat with him]

Now thats out of the way time for the story, I had been friends with these two for quite some time to the point that even Phthalo welcomes me. An anyone with Mambas know thats extremely hard to earn, especially around strangers. When I got my boys I’d bring them over to let Dante watch Rosie cook while Chip an I helped Leo out, Phthalo was ok with them as long as they didn’t go upstairs.

[He sleeps on Rosies side of the bed, he’s really protective of her]

Leo often asked me for help cause I was both willing to help and had some muscle to move things he couldn’t. Rosie just loved cooking and feeding me, however shortly after I adopted my Bird bitties I got some rather sad news. Rosie had contacted me and said Leo was in the hospital, diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

I almost dropped my phone when I heard, I gathered up my boys to go see him and....he was bad. He had been battling this for some time, Phthalo was there, standing guard over him...sort of, he mostly sat near Rosie. Leo tried to play it off an say he was ok but from the look on Rosie and the doctors face....it was pretty obvious he was not. Despite that he tried to stay optimistic....

He tried really, me an my boys came almost every afternoon to see him and watch whatever we brought with us. Mostly shows like MASH and The RedGreen show, shows he liked watching, Rosie spent her time knitting and needle pointing at his side. He was quite comfortable really, though things did turn downhill for him...he was at that point where he had come to accept his mortality.

However as you’ve may have guest after a while...he did pass on, it came one afternoon on a Saturday when Rosie called me and informed me of his passing. Though I knew his time was near it still hurt, anyone whose been through these things knows that all to well. It took my boys a good hour to calm me down. I stopped by their house to check on Rosie, she was just as distraught but kept a brave face. She called up some of the family to help her plan the funeral, Leo’s brother Jon and her own siblings Betty and Rodger. All of whom I’ve met and gotten to know, they all have their own kids and were coming up to pay their respects but there was one thing I noticed. When all the nieces, nephews, grand nieces and grand nephews arrived...I had not yet seen any of their own kids and grandkids.

I didn’t want to pry but I spoke to Jon [Leo’s brother] about the matter and though he was quiet for a moment he told me that Rosie and Leo had two boys whom they had a very rocky relationship with them. As for details he wasn’t sure if it was the right time, I told him ‘say no more, nods as good as a wink’.

So we start planning the funeral, I helped by corralling the little ones and keeping them from Phthalo, he was still somewhat mourning. I had just gotten the youngest ones to play some games when someone’s phone rang. I didn’t catch much of the conversation but...Rosie started crying again, I came back in but Betty asked me to stay with the children...whatever it was....it was strictly a family matter. But you couldn’t ignore that kind of crying...I wanted to go in there and console her but...thankfully Roger came out and asked me if I would do a errand for him.

[Pretty sure he knew this wasn’t comfortable for me]

I agreed an he asked me to stop by a local drive thru an pick up some stuff for the kids, it was getting close to lunchtime anyway. I agreed and slipped out of there quietly, Phthalo had just slithered down and raced over to Rosie when I stepped past the front door.

Whatever that phone call was......I don’t know but if it could bring Rosie to hysterics like that I really don’t wanna know.

I’ll fill you in on the finale later

P2 later coming]

[for information on Lamia’s please visit @vex-bittys and for bird bitties pleases contact @coalition-aviary-bitty-adoption ]

#fanfic #lamia bitties

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chyrstis · 4 years

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WIP Saturday (so much for Friday)

Tagged by @shallow-gravy @raisinghellinotherworlds and @fadedjacket! You’re all way too kind (and also patient! <3), and here I am trying not to squeeze this in too late (never mind the fact that it’s Saturday and not even Wednesday)

Tagging: @writerofblocks @sharky-broshaw @amistrio @geronimo-11 @guileandgall @painterofhorizons @redroci @ma-sulevin @narcis-the-monk @teamhawkeye @finefeatheredgamer @fluttyseed @sneaky-apostate @hawkfurze @scarlettkat86 @strafethesesinners @risenlucifer @ofravensandgenesis @marymay-fairgrave @cclkestis and anyone else that’s interested! This is totally a free tag, and I’d love to see what you’re all working on.

Random aside, but I’d definitely post the new WIP I ended up writing earlier today courtesy of @writerofblocks providing some excellent inspiration, but...I think I’m going to hold onto that for later, b/c that might be a little too much spice to slip in here.

First off, a small moment from the Trap fic, which I’m still hoping to finalize most of the outline for soon! Just a friendly car chase, no big deal:

---

“Go, go, go!”

Her foot hit the gas, and they flew out after it, not wanting to give it a decent chance for a lead. The more time between them, the less of a shot they had to corral it.

It just sucked that of all of the vehicles they had to offer, the van ended up being their pick, because the space it had didn’t do shit to help its max speed.

Coming right up behind the tanker, Hana dug for the radio by her side and put a call through. “H to Shurky, we’re coming up on you two, so you’d better be ready to work your magic!”

“Ten-four on that, pretty lady! Oh, wait. Fuck! Wait, let me just-”

Some arguing filtered through, nothing she could suss out while barreling down the road mid-car chase, until Sharky’s voice came back over the line.

“Yeah, we got you covered, Dep! Got a whole lotta shit just ready to throw and-yo, I see you there!”

Gunfire echoed briefly before cutting off, all while a cold sweat settled on her brow.

Jesus. They weren’t supposed to hit trouble this soon. Did they know?

A bullet clipped the windshield, spidering the glass as she moved back, and she swore under her breath.

---

Next, how about a little more No-Cult AU? Part 2-ish of the paint saga, which I’d love to finish within the next week or so. *crosses fingers*:

---

Sharky switched to the earlier photos. Tilted his phone and studied them, and still couldn’t tell jack-shit.

Another image came through in the middle of this, this time of John’s hand holding up what looked to be two separate paint color cards. Both were the kind of red he seriously had no hope of telling apart, and as Sharky focused in on them, he caught two different names.

“…Heart what?” he muttered, reading no joke, Heartthrob as one of the colors.

the fuck man?

Not happy with either?

im over here digging holes covered in dirt n shit and ure asking me to tell u whats better Candy apple or fkin cherry

cant even tell if ones lighter n the other

Digging?

Taking a picture of where he was, Sharky sent it along, and John didn’t wait long to respond.

Ah, you’re busy. This is a bad time.

its ok Sharky replied, typing fast, just weird to ask

the hells the red for anyway? thought blue was your thng

The boathouse, remember? It was red.

It was?

Thinking back to that night, color didn’t even click for him. Shit, he’d barely had his own feet under him as he slipped into the place, and nearly pitched over the edge of the boat into the river. But after avoiding hitting his head, and losing his balance he’d fired it up and booked it.

Didn’t even stop to question anything, not even the keys left on the workbench nearby. Seriously, how did he end up being the first person to try this shit at all?

Raccoons, or hell, even a wolverine could’ve run off with them, and he didn’t know what was funnier, the idea of a wolverine trying to handle a boat, or John trying to work any of that lawyer mojo against something ready to claw his face off.

But thinking back to the boathouse, red kinda made sense. Well, judging from what he’d seen under the burnt and charred pieces he’d broken down and thrown to the side while taking it apart.

---

And finally, maybe some Sharky/Hana/John? John drops by their place earlier than anticipated on their calendar, which throws off their groove a bit, but he’s got a few reasons for it.

---

“Dude, it’s just past four. You check the clock at all ‘fore heading over?”

He hadn’t, admittedly. Just left his room as soon as possible without looking back, and frowned when Boshaw aimed a knowing smirk right at him. “Should I have?”

He shook his head as he plopped down onto a nearby chair. “Nah, it’s cool, man. Cool to see you, and cool to-“ he yawned, the rest of his answer swallowed up by it. “Cool to have you by and shit.”

Groping for his shoes, he pulled at the laces, loosening them enough to put them on, and rubbed at his eyes before lacing them up. Not saying anything else, he’d switched to humming something off-key, and try as he might, John couldn’t recognize a single note of it.

“Can’t really stick around long, ‘cause the first round of shifts are starting, but if you wanted to talk to H, she’ll be up in a bit. She can’t do early. Shit, I can’t do early, but you do what you gotta do, I guess.”

“It’s a small price to pay to keep things as they are.”

“Yeah, I guess. But you’re looking like you just sprang up, ready to fucking go”, Charlemagne groused. John raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he shook his head at him. “You even sleep?”

No. John said nothing, but just as he was considering it, Boshaw snorted.

“Nah, probably don’t much. Well, I’m out. Whoever’s supe this week’ll ride me if I’m late, so just lock up behind me.”

He jogged over to the bed, and dipped down towards the pile of blankets. There wasn’t much of Hana that either of them could see above what she’d wrapped around her, but once Charlemagne found her, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, tenderly brushing her hair back as he did.

Glancing away, John waited until he was back in front of him to make eye contact again.

#wip #some of these are definitely rougher than usual so don't mind me #but I'm glad to go back to some of these earlier ideas #it's so hard to think it's been months already since I've gone back to them

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worryinglyinnocent · 3 years

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Fic: Haven (13/50)

Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.

But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…

The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…

Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.

Rated: T

Haven

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [AO3]

Summary: Hohenheim realises what is going on in Amestris and makes plans to leave. The rest of Resembool, however, has other ideas.

Characters: Hohenheim, some Resemboolian good samaritans.

Pairing: Trisha/Hohenheim

“Trisha, I have to leave. Wait here for me.”

“OK.”

He didn’t want to have to leave, but he knows that when it comes down to it, he’s the only one who can put a stop to whatever it is that Homunculus is doing. He won’t be able to rest easy until he has made sure that another Xerxes will never happen.

But he has no idea how long he’s going to be away, and he is going to miss Trisha and the boys so, so much.

“Planning a trip, Hohenheim?”

Joe comes out of the stationmaster’s office with his morning tea. It’s still early and the first train of the day is not due for a while. Hohenheim is the only person on the platform. He doesn’t look up as Joe comes and sits on the bench beside him; he just continues to stare down at the suitcase between his feet.

“Going away for a while?”

Joe does not seem at all perturbed by Hohenheim’s lack of response, and continues to calmly sip his tea as they wait for the train together.

“Where are you headed?”

Silence stretches on between them for a while, and eventually Joe gives a sigh.

“Ok, I know that you and Trisha’s marriage is as solid as a rock so I know you haven’t been kicked out of the house in disgrace, so I know you must have left of your own accord, and I know that you don’t want to leave because you wouldn’t be looking so incredibly miserable if you did, so I’m at a loss here. There’s also the fact that you’re almost an hour early for the first train which I’m taking to mean that you wanted to leave the house before your kids woke up. Potentially before Trisha woke up as well, but I know her well enough to know you wouldn’t have left without telling her. What’s going on, Hohenheim? As previously stated, we’ve got time before the train arrives, and you look so down I’d be slightly concerned about you throwing yourself in front of it if you weren’t, well, you know.”

Hohenheim sighs. “It’s complicated.”

“Try me. I’ve got an hour before I need to do anything and this tea’s still too hot to drink. Actually, would you like some? There’s plenty for two.”

Hohenheim sits back, taking his glasses off and scrubbing his hands over his face. Everyone in the town knows his story to some extent, so it shouldn’t really be anything too shocking to Joe, even if he can’t actually do anything about it. It’s just that it’s something so big, and so all-encompassing… Since there’s nothing that anyone else can do, he shouldn’t burden them with the worry of it. He didn’t even burden Trisha with the worry of it.

“Hohenheim… You know that whatever’s going on, you’re not alone, right? I know that Basil’s weird and wonderful ideas to try and stop you being immortal are impractical at best, but we’re on your side when it comes to anything strange and alchemical that you have to do. We might not be able to do what you’re able to do, but you don’t have to handle it on your own.”

Hohenheim sighs and puts his glasses back on.

“Even I don’t know what I have to do,” he says. “I just know that I have to do something and I’m the only one who can.”

“Well, maybe that’s true, but we’re always here as a sounding board, you know.” Joe pauses. “Have you even talked to Trisha about this?”

“Yes, of course. Well. Not all the details.”

Joe rubs the bridge of his nose with the hand not holding the tea. “If I was Pinako I would smack you upside the head with a wrench right now. You are a complete and utter idiot.”

“I know. I have at least five hundred thousand voices in my head telling me the same thing.”

“You should listen to them. They’ve known you longer than any of us have and they sound like they know what they’re talking about.”

They continue to sit on the bench waiting for the train, but before either of them can break the heavy silence, the silence is broken for them by a sheep careening down the platform, closely followed by Farmer Anderson.

“Get back here!”

Joe puts the tea down and follows sheep and farmer down the platform towards the water tower. Hohenheim peers along in the direction that they came from to find the loading pen full of sheep waiting to get on the train when it arrives, all of them completely uninterested by their comrade’s escape attempt.

“Hohenheim! Give us a hand here!”

He gets up and makes his way towards the shunting yard where Joe and Anderson are trying to corner the sheep.

“I’m really not sure what I can bring to the table, most things on four legs tend to flee in the opposite direction when I get near them.”

“Exactly!” Anderson stops to get his breath back as Joe continues to try and hilariously fail to sneak up on the wily beast. “She’ll run away from you and towards us!”

Not entirely convinced by this plan, Hohenheim nevertheless realises that he’s got nothing to lose and might as well lend a likely useless hand. As expected, as soon as the sheep gets anywhere near him, it gives an alarmed bleat and runs off in the opposite direction, eventually breaking out of the shunting yard and hopping across the lines.

“I’ve never been so glad we only have six trains a day,” Joe pants. “Hohenheim, can’t you do something?”

Hohenheim throws up an alchemy wall to stop the sheep getting out of the vicinity of the station when it makes a break for further freedom and the fields it’s just left.

Joe blinks. They’ve been used to him and his alchemy for a long time now, but it does still sometimes take them by surprise with the suddenness of it.

“Yeah, that’ll do it.”

By the time they manage to corral the sheep back into the loading pen, the train has pulled into the station and the driver is watching them with amusement. Anderson begins to load the sheep into the livestock car with Joe’s help, and Hohenheim goes to retrieve his suitcase.

He’s going to miss Resembool so much.

The suitcase is not where he left it under the bench, and he looks up to see Joe holding it hostage.

“You can take the next train,” he says. “But you’re not getting it back until you tell at least someone exactly what madcap world-saving mission you’re going on. What’s Trisha going to tell the boys? ‘Dad left for a good reason but I’m not entirely sure what?’” He pauses. “Don’t make me call Pinako and get her down here with a wrench.”

Hohenheim sags in defeat, but ultimately, he smiles. Only in Resembool could your neighbours be willing to help out with anything from chasing runaway sheep to saving the entire country as they know it from a not-entirely-human madman.

He collects his suitcase from and takes it home to Trisha later that day, still somewhat overwhelmed by the reassurance that he is nowhere near alone in the world and no matter what, he has people who will help him and fight for him through thick and thin.

#FMA: Brotherhood #FMA Fanfiction #Van Hohenheim #Fic: Haven

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