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#yet passing most easily as the normal well adjusted person
ravegore · 3 months
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god. god. god
#i feel like the black sheep carrying more relationship trauma than anyone else#yet passing most easily as the normal well adjusted person#god. it just#it really just feels like im in a completely different world here with them#having to learn their language and customs brand new#im so used to insane and stupid fucking relationships that this feels alien#like i really do not at all understand what its like for them to feel things they do or#for them to feel the way they do about me#i just simply cant comprehend it#i cant understand it. its so different.#intimacy makes most sense to me when its literally the rawest most stressful form you can imagine#witnessing someone in their most vulnerable moments and them trusting you with it#or knowing their deepest traumas in detail#or helping them directly with fighting their demons past or present#i hate this language ive learned but its the only one i know how to speak.#i only feel something when it rips straight to my core and makes me terrified#only then do i feel affection.. intimacy...#what a horrible way to live#nothing feels real or genuine when it isnt shared from the deepest darkest most wounded part of a person#how much intimacy and emotion and beauty am i missing out on because of this...#i wish i could feel what they do. maybe i will one day.#but right now i just feel numb and sad. and alone.#i dont know how to feel the way others do. i would like to.#i would like for my exchanges to not feel like a performance to compensate for the void inside of me
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blainesebastian · 1 year
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routine (ccg universe)
words: 3,189 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “ccg and austin have a disagreement/fight while she’s pregnant and usually he always touches her belly but since they’re mad he’s not” notes: thanks to anyone who reads and leaves likes, comments, reblogs or asks :) requests are tentatively open.  warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted
You know that having a baby is going to change everything—regardless that you’re not one hundred percent sure on the logistics, which doesn’t matter quite yet, because the knowing makes you feel like you’re ready to anticipate as much as you can. Accepting that you’re open to ride with whatever the universe is going to throw in your direction…which is definitely not how you were before. You liked plans, you liked knowing what was next, you lived on considering what was ahead of you—five to fifteen steps, mapped out.
The shift is jarring and terrifying but…having Austin by your side is a comfort that you can’t quite put into words.
You both find yourselves inside one another, you create a new a normal, and you settle into routines that constantly remind you that home is a person just as much as it’s a place. It definitely helps ground you.
It doesn’t have to be completely groundbreaking either, you’re talking about simple things. You sigh softly as you lean back against the headboard, glancing away from a script you’re reading that Austin’s gotten recently to look over at your husband. This is a perfect example that sometimes you find yourself thinking about. It’s become such a part of your nightly routine that you barely think about it. You should, if you’re being honest, because it’s one of your most favorite things and noticeable when absent.
Since you’ve become pregnant, any night that Austin is in bed with you, his hand finds its way to your stomach. You can tell he’s not really thinking about it, more of an absentminded touch that’s been there in the past but somehow completely different now. His connection lingers, fingers tracing the swell of your belly as you’ve gotten bigger.
He notices he does it, because occasionally he’ll kiss your stomach before pulling away, but it’s not like you both have to talk about it either. It’s—simple, there, that feeling of home in a single touch.
You set down the script, adjusting yourself on the pillows as Austin answers emails on his phone. You lean into his hand, closing your eyes for a moment. You’re just leaving your first trimester and your body is having trouble abandoning morning sickness (which can’t tell time). You can feel Austin shift but don’t open your eyes, even when he presses a kiss to your temple, his hand rubbing back and forth over your stomach in small patterned circles.
“Not feelin’ well?”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair, “I swear, every time I think I’m through it, another bout of nausea visits.”
Austin sets his phone down on the nightstand as you open your eyes and…half the time you think you’ll start to get used to how easily handsome he is, but you don’t. He’s in comfortable clothes, a pair of black joggers and a white t-shirt, this thin gold chain around his neck and tucked under the collar. He smells like lingering wafts of sandalwood from his cologne and skin, something distinctly Austin. His hair is a bit unkempt, but you like it like that, it’s from running his hands through it, a stubborn curl on his forehead that’s refusing to settle.
It makes your lips twitch into the smallest of smiles.
“I’ll get you some tea—think we still got that mint you like.”
Before he can move, you shake your head, looping an arm through his and resting against his shoulder. “No, don’t.” You sigh a bit dramatically, closing your eyes again, “It’ll pass.”
A soft chuckle vibrates in Austin’s chest that you can feel rather than hear. He moves his arm to wrap around you, drawing you into his side as much as your belly will allow. One of the only downsides of this whole pregnancy thing…you really feel like you’re not as close as you want to be to your husband.
Your arm settles on his torso and his hand rests on your belly again, tracing shapes.
“Really wish this girl would learn how to tell time,” You tease, shifting a bit. You let out a soft grimace of uncomfortableness. “Second trimester is supposed to be the most enjoyable?” Maybe that’s something to look forward to.
Crinkling your nose, you tip your chin back a little so you can look up at Austin, “Remember when we went to that after-party on that boat because Baz insisted—”
Austin laughs lightly, his hand rubbing your shoulder, “You were so seasick.”
You whine lightly, “I’m usually not even bad with boats, like, the water was so choppy.”
He smiles, pressing his lips to your forehead, “You were lookin’ green for the duration of that party, I didn’t think you were gonna make it.”
You gently smack his chest with a fond eyeroll, settling your head back against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat along the shell of your ear, “That’s exactly how this feels.”
“I’d say that this was surprisin’ but it’s not, given that she’s already a troublemaker like you.”
You could fall asleep like this, just might with all the small touches Austin is giving you. The heat of his body, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, his scent sticking to his clothes—always a perfect storm.
“If that’s the case, you’re definitely in for it.” You mumble as you begin to drift off.
You can feel Austin smile, a soft breath leaving his nose as he chuckles, “Don’t I know it.”
--
Here’s the thing about you and Austin—you rarely have arguments. Sure, there are disagreements every now and then, because what couple doesn’t go through that? You’re human, stuff happens, but it blows over. It doesn’t become anything unpleasant.
Your point being, when it happens? It’s definitely pretty bad.
Part of the problem lately is that a lot of things have been piling into the pressure cooker—Austin’s a bit testier than usual because he’s stressed about an upcoming project (and what it’ll look like to create a balance between his passion and being a father), you’re hormonal and also considering the same thing, constantly, finding your equilibrium in becoming a parent and not letting go of a career that you just managed to sink your teeth into. You don’t want to let it go but you also know you have to figure out what your median is. There’s no set plan other than there is no plan—and that’s very new and terrifying for you. Everyone who loves and cares about you is being super supportive in figuring it out; Austin, Jillian, your other friends and family…all except your mother.
And that’s what’s really bothering you right now.
It’s not that she’s never been supportive, she has, it’s just…sometimes she has this running commentary that is not at all helpful. It’s just her thoughts bursting forth with no consideration or hesitating filter, her concerns and worry somehow making her judgmental and insensitive and you just…can’t put up with it right now? Emotions for you are raw and heavy, swift in how they come down on your shoulders. It’s something you’re processing and dealing with and unfortunately just comes with the territory of being pregnant but…
It's such a bad combination.
Usually? Austin is nothing but encouraging, gentle, soft? A partner. You feel like a team.
Today however? Just the wrong conversation at the wrong time.
You can tell he’s already tense as he stands in the kitchen, half-listening to your rant about the phone call you had with your mother and half-reading the script in his hand as you make dessert (eating whipped cream from a bowl). Your cravings have been sweet as of late, so more than often you’ll bake something to keep yourself moving and your hands busy but because you’re also stressed, you’re eating things more than making anything.
“At this point I’m about to hang up on her,” You lick the spoon, “And then she says, ‘well Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten pregnant if you can’t handle a work-life balance’.”
That…that actually kind of hurt to hear your mom say, if you’re being honest. It’s not that you were even complaining or saying that you don’t want or can’t do this. You were just venting and you feel foolish thinking your mom would just listen instead of turning it into some kind of lecture.
“So ridiculous.” You mumble under your breath.
Austin sighs softly, setting down the script on the island counter. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I think you’re overreactin’ a little bit.”
You slowly put the spoon down in the bowl because… ‘don’t take this the wrong way’? “How else am I supposed to take that?”
He bites the inside of his cheek for a moment, looking like he might say something else when—“Nevermind.”
You know right there and then you should just let it go. Austin’s got his own things going on and you’ve got adrenaline leftover from your conversation with your mother and this should probably wait but…no? It’s not fair for him to say you’re overreacting.
“Those are just my feelings, Austin, there’s no overreaction about it.”
You can tell by the look on his face that he can sense this discussion is going south, fast, “I don’t want to argue about this.”
Bristling, you put the bowl and spoon in the sink from the whipped cream, “And by that, you mean you don’t want to talk about it.” You lean back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest.
Austin’s face kinda crinkles in light confusion, annoyance starting to gently inflect his tone of voice, “Y/N, I’m sure your mom didn’t mean anythin’ by that, alright? She’s just worried—”
Oh my god, you cannot believe he’s taking her side in all this. You try to approach this from somewhere a bit more rational because…you know he didn’t actually hear the conversation you had with your mother. But it also really rubs you the wrong way—you have genuine emotions about this, feelings that Austin is usually so supportive about. You just want him to hear you? It’s perfectly okay if he can’t right now, if he has to fill up his own cup before being able to pour into yours.
But, “You can worry about someone else and not say mean things to them.”
He tilts his head and fixes you with this look and you know something condescending is about to come out, “Look…you’re hormonal right now—”
That is the wrong thing to say. Nothing shoots through your veins red hot than comments like that. You instantly stand up straight, shoulders rearing back just slightly as if his words slap you across the face, “Don’t, don’t do that.” You snap. “You do not get to invalidate my feelings and blame them on pregnancy hormones.”
“Well if the shoe fits.” He throws back, voice just as sharp.
Any other time, any other time, you’d throw in another jab or maybe storm off dramatically by slamming the door to the bedroom closed but…Austin just kinda takes the wind out of your sails. And regardless that you’re trying to get him to understand that this conversation with your mother hurt you, and those emotions are real, you are also dealing with pregnancy hormones. He just doesn’t get to use them as an excuse. He’s never made you feel irrational about your own feelings.
So your face just kind of crumbles, tears beginning to fill your eyes and you feel so overwhelmed at it even happening because you’re not usually like this. You can see the shift instantly on Austin’s face—his own stress and frustration, anger, melting away to guilt and concern, apologies.
“Shit,” He mumbles under his breath, stepping around the island counter to reach for you. “Hey,” Austin whispers, “Hey, c’mere.”
“Please don’t touch me right now.” You sniffle, pushing his hand away, wiping a few tears off your cheeks as they begin to fall.
Needing space to breathe, you turn to walk out of the kitchen and make a b-line for the bedroom.
--
The apartment is quiet for the duration of the night as you and Austin steer clear of one another. There’s no outright avoidance? But you can tell he feels bad for what he said and you’re feeling particularly raw and ridiculous all at the same time—you’re trying to tell yourself that there’s no need to be sorry for having feelings, you don’t need to validate or explain anything. Maybe you should have waited to have any type of charged conversation when you could tell your husband was dealing with his own emotional baggage, but hindsight is always clear.
It's instinctual to crawl into bed together, even though you’re both creating space by doing your own thing. You’re scrolling through Instagram, Austin is reading his script and making notes occasionally in the margins. You’ve always kind of scoffed at the sentiment of ‘never going to bed angry’—sometimes that makes the most sense. There’s no reason to force a conversation and somehow make it worse. You know that tomorrow it’ll be easier to talk about, right now it’d be nothing but forced apologies.
You shift in bed, getting ready to put your phone on the nightstand and turn on your side to sleep, when you feel Austin’s hand move to your belly and—there’s this moment of shared realization. It’s completely absentminded on his end, just part of the routine of being in bed, and a kneejerk reaction from you of not wanting to be touched. You lean out of it and catch a glimpse of his face, which is definitely crushed and yet understanding at the same time.
He's done this every night but…not tonight.
--
It’s the weird dream that wakes you, that you were in a boat but underwater? rolling against the ocean bed with the waves, but it’s the sharp nausea that keeps you awake. You take a deep breath in through your nose, hoping it’ll pass, but it just gets worse. God, this morning sickness is so terrible…and once again, it can’t tell time. You glance at the illuminated numbers of the clock on your bedside table, two A.M., and pull yourself from bed. Moving quickly to the bathroom, you barely get the door slightly closed and the lights on before you’re throwing up.
Your knees hit the tile too hard and tears are stinging the back of your eyes as you grab onto the toilet bowl, emptying the contents of your stomach from dinner and dessert. A soft whine leaves your lips, sniffling, and you flush the toilet before leaning back to sit against the tub. A cold sweat kisses your skin and you shiver lightly, waiting for the sour stomach to pass.
When you hear the door creak, you glance up to see Austin standing in the doorframe, and all those negative feelings from before just kind of melt away. He gives you a gentle smile, running a hand through his bedhead curls.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” His voice is soft, “But you look terrible.”
You choke out a laugh, shaking your head. Sniffling, you run a hand over your face, “Shut up.”
Austin lets out a long sigh through his nose, moving to grab a washcloth and fill it up with warm water from the sink. He squeezes out the excess and sits down after closing the toilet seat, gently tipping your chin back so he can run the fabric along your forehead, down your cheeks, on the back of your neck.
You can’t help but let out a soft noise of relief, your eyes fluttering closed as Austin presses a few comforting kisses to your temple. It’s quiet for a while, which is nice because it lets you self-evaluate whether or not you’re going to be sick again. Seems like its passed for the most part, thank God.
Austin places his hand along the side of your head, brushing his thumb through your hair. You look up at him, swallowing over the fading sour taste in your mouth. “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head, chewing on your lower lip, “I was—pestering.”
“No,” Austin replies quickly, “You were talkin’ to me and I…I just threw your words back into your face.”
You want to get into this whole thing about how you could feel that he hadn’t been in the right frame of mind for that conversation but you proceeded anyways, but the words just die on your tongue. You’re tired and there’s this faint pulsing in your temples, the beginning of a headache.
But that’s the thing about Austin, he knows you, “I didn’t have the best day with the script but I didn’t mean to bring that home to you,” He lifts his hand to run his fingers more fully through your hair, “I know your mom sometimes likes to find your pressure points and push.”
You nod a little, hating that you feel that lump start to appear in your throat all over again, averting your eyes from Austin’s gaze.
“Y/N, you’re going to be an amazing mother—you don’t have to have it all figured out. And no…offense to your mother, but she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talkin’ about half the time.”
You let out a soft laugh, sniffling, some tears accidentally slipping down your face. You run your hands over your cheeks and you know that Austin has a point. Despite your mom’s good intentions, she often just talks out the side of her mouth. She worries and overcompensates and…sometimes what she says gets stuck inside your head. Even though it’s not a new realization, you’re reminded how much you need to hear Austin talk to you about it, how important it feels to have him in your corner.
You hope to do the same for him tomorrow morning, to give him the same time and support about whatever happened with his script to put him in a sour mood.
You rest your hand on his knee and squeeze, the words thank you in your touch. He gives you a soft smile, leaning back a bit, “C’mere.”
He holds his hand out for you to take to help you off the floor and once you’re up, he wraps an arm around your waist to fold you into his embrace. You sit between his legs, on his one thigh, smiling down at him as you wipe your face again. Even though your cheeks are flushed, at least you’re not crying anymore.
Austin presses a kiss to your collarbone, squeezing you, “I’m sorry.” He repeats.
Letting out a sigh, you cup his cheek and run your thumb along his lower lip before moving his curls off his forehead with your fingers, “You’re forgiven.”
He smiles and you can’t help but lean down to plant a kiss to the corner of his mouth, your foreheads pressing together afterwards. His hand ends up on your stomach, his fingers splayed, thumb tracing your skin. Admittedly, it definitely makes you feel better.
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Well in my final drafts of Ch 1 overhaul, here's a snippet of description for Francis. I gave both characters a profound intro so Scrooge has one too, but we know what he looks like so its not as detailed. Francis; however, really lacked a full detailed appearance and has one now.
Yall... no wonder Eb fell... 🤣👀
Francis appearance is very soothingly diamorphic yet hauntingly unreadable for someone like Eb who prides himself to be able to interpret people so easily. It's also clear how Francis manages to catch alot of het men off guard.
~~~~~ Snippet Below ~~~~~
Such moment abruptly passed; however, when he was nearly startled from his chair by a voice immediently next to him. One with a metallic yet elegant rasp to a melodic tone of warm rythym Ebenezer also found pleasing at the same time. "Good evening, mind if I buy you a drink?" Ebenezer's eyes shot open as the table adjusted while the man took the chair across to join him, placing his drink on the table and top hat as he removed it.
"Excuse me?" Ebenezer barely managed through a tense combination of irritation and suprise with a bristled glare to match. It was a flinty exchange to demand why this stranger just imposed himself so boldly into his personal space he just found solace in.
Yet at opening his eyes to his invader, Ebenezer had felt a warmth to another degree at this observation as the man points with his chin to the empty glass, breaking Ebenezer's exploring gaze. "A drink... you are out. It's something one normally does to gain the affirmation of someone they've been admiring." His small smile grew cagy.
"I know what that means." Ebenezer snapped, then staring at him in bewilderment then coarse scrutiny when the words finally resonated in his buzzing mind. Did he just say *admiring*? Ebenezer opened his mouth to rebuke him further when he found he was at a loss what to say against such assertive approach so uncommon a man of London.
Worse yet to his discomfort in that statement was Ebenezer hadn't noticed this man at all. By his bright attire unbecoming English evening wear, he shouldn't have missed him... Maybe he was far too wrapped in his own head... At such, Ebenezer returned to his scrutinal gaze to get a read on this man. A skill refined well over years across tables of tense business deals, reading faces he could normally interpret any opponent's integrity and strata with sublime ease... Normally...
This stranger's clothing was perfectly tailored with black and red crushed velvet and fine silk. Intricately embroidered rose entwined vines ran down the trim of his waistcoat striking bright color against its deep red. The man himself was tall with strong build and carried a regal posture of someone of status. He was somewhat younger than himself but not youthful by the gray that leeched the front of his unnaturally long, sandy blonde hair. What crowned his rectangular face and steep ramus jaw, paired alpine cheekbones to center a Greek nose with a mouth that suggest both tenderness and cruelty.
Yet what confused Ebenezer's usual ease to interpret such details was the unsettling lack of expression carried and how the man's features came off so alluringly dimorphic. Moreso vexing; however, was past his strong browridge hood the most striking, piercing ocean-strong eyes. It left his stare intensely captivating and almost animal in regard yet welcoming at the same time. What with this enigmatic bearing, combined with the gutsy demeanor improper an Englishman, had paralyzed Ebenezer in a confused yet curious vexation that burned strangely beckoning to process.
Yet also sinister because he was so hard to grasp...
Was it his wide, expressionless mouth, thin flat brows or burning, predatory gaze? With that lack of expression, was he about to grin with delight or glower darkly? Ebenezer had prided himself to train his mind to decifer a face as untrustworthy or not -yet with this man- apparently he was neither.
The Devil was in the details Ebenezer supposed, and this man certainly was Devilish in all account...
Coming back from his wonderings he seen the man still awaiting his response as Ebenezer only grumbled with an icy stare to combat his animal one. "You don't sound quite... familiar." He spoke narrowing his eyes with obvious appraised. "You're most definitely not resident by that societal approach."
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Jess/Leto + “Rough or gentle?”
Early-era, very vaguely nsfw, also on ao3.
She didn’t cause any of this.
Let that be her defense, when she needs it. Let the only innocence she’s ever had be enough. Let her-
Jessica has done very little in these past two years, and there are more and more nights she is at peace with that. She was trained to adapt to circumstances and she has done so; the fact that her circumstances are not what she expected is becoming irrelevant.
She lets her life blur, lets herself not remember details she ought to carefully track, details like at what point she started spending more nights in her partner’s bed than her own. Several months ago, she knows that much, long enough that her patterns have adjusted to it, long enough that it is mutually understood that a request for her presence is relatively unlikely to involve intimacies and yet-
She limits herself, proves her blossoming affection more in what she does not do. It would be easy to manipulate him and easier still to get questions answered that she isn’t sure how to ask, but something in her has been receptive to the kindness she has been offered and she wants to reciprocate. Make it normal, as her partner said so often in the earliest days, as if trying to forget what she was and why she was accessible to him. Make all of this normal. Hold back her abilities and trust that she will never need to use her power behind a carefully closed door.
Two years now, and she has seen the changes made for her benefit, the attempts at being a decent partner. She’s heard all the stories embedded in these walls; this bloodline is both cold and passionate, a bad combination for any who might marry in, centuries of volatile and unhappy relationships punctuated every few generations by some off-planet girl miraculously able to keep up and-
Jessica is well aware she is not quite playing by the same rules as the closest things she has to predecessors, but she has to take what examples she can and that feels like a better starting point than her own background. She’s not doing that right either, as months pass, not sure she actually ought to entwine her two worlds as she is expected to and-
It is easy to get stuck in her head; it is even easier to seek her methods of forgetting.
She prepares herself carefully, in the ways she is still adapting to, the more vibrant colors and softer fabrics her partner has suggested might be pleasing to her. Always just the slightest modification of her behavior at a time, always the gentlest offers, and she was trained too well to try to make other people happy and-
“I need you,” she says, very direct when he finally makes it back to their spaces for the night, hoping her words and the ice-blue lace barely covering her skin are signal enough, hoping-
“Did something happen?”
“My mind isn’t always safe,” she murmurs, and it is not a breach of her personal rules to lace her voice with just a little subliminal comfort, to soften the fear of it all. “You know not to ask more than that. I just need… distraction.”
He will never say no to her; she can’t quite recall figuring this out either, but she has observed it in how easily behavior shifts. How careful her requests have become as a result, how rarely she asks for anything at all, if this is how love works then no wonder she was taught to avoid it and-
“Distraction,” he repeats, not disapproving. “And I see you’ve… prepared for it.”
“You need it too,” she replies. “I know the past few days have been…”
“No worse than most others,” he finishes. “I did survive before you.”
“Survive, yes, I do know that. But we are more than that now.”
She is supposed to be safe, she reminds herself; that part of her purpose, at least, she has kept. Make herself available for her partner’s needs, perhaps more often than some of her sisters in their respective assignments because she had the objective misfortune of being assigned to a man with an understandable aversion to marriage, and-
“What are you after?”
“You ask too many questions. Is it not enough for me to want you?”
And she does want, and that’s becoming a problem. Something too human in her, resilient stubborn heart she shouldn’t have, and sometimes she even questions how critical she is of herself and-
She knows he doesn’t quite trust her when she’s like this. She wouldn’t trust herself either, in an opposite position. She also knows that the problem does not go both ways, that he has been direct but kind with her with roles reversed, that she does not give as much opportunity to walk away when she is in control and-
Instead of the comments she braces for, the negotiations she’s used to before he finally gives up and slips the straps of her dress off her shoulder, he moves forward and kisses her. There is so much caution in their physicality, still a mutual sense of wonder that the movements of skin on skin could really be so powerful, still-
“What kind of distraction?” he asks, clearly getting the accurate impression that while this encounter may be her idea, he’s still going to have to do more. “What kind… rough or gentle? Tell me-“
“Anything that gets you on me,” she replies, and the words taste wrong – like she ought to care more than she does, like she ought to take more control than she does – and she doesn’t know how to fix that so she continues. “Use your judgment. I trust you not to hurt me with intent.”
“Slower, then. If you’re… like this…”
If she wasn’t so stuck in her head she’d turn this into a fight in a heartbeat, but she needs to focus better, she needs to do too many things better, she needs-
“Alright.”
She needs to focus, she repeats as things escalate, and intimacies are a frightfully easy way of focusing. It isn’t about physical need anymore, it hasn’t been, more the closeness of what they do, more-
“You worry me,” her partner murmurs at some point after she’s exposed but before she ends up on their bed, and in time to come they will both have issues directly speaking of the depth of their emotions but they will find other ways that don’t feel so dangerous. “You-“
She quiets him with another kiss, and she is overwhelmed and she is infinite. How much pressure could there actually be on her when some of her nights involve this beautiful undoing? If she has failed by becoming more passive, she can justify it in the light in her partner’s eyes as they collide, how useful she knows she is, how-
No. She is getting so damn tired of reducing herself to her capabilities. What if she’s more than that? What if…
She lets things happen to her, and it’s enough, it’s not perfect but it’s enough and that’s where they’ve been ending up more and more as the dynamic has evolved into something that’s starting to look like a life. She has her petty complaints that she holds back with a sharp bite to her lip, and her partner is a decent lover, a little distracted but not in any way that worries her, not-
He needed this too. She’d said as much. She decides to be nice and not say anything now.
She hates when people touch her hair, but she lets him do it in aftermath because it’s hesitant and sweet and whatever mean thoughts he’s ever had about her body have at least been kept quiet. This is the part where she feels vulnerable, when she wants to ask if she was a good enough lay, when-
“Was that enough?” he asks before she can, and oh someday she suspects they’re going to merge into one mind.
“It was,” she replies. She doesn’t want to talk, she doesn’t want-
“Still can’t tell with you sometimes.” Observing not disapproving, default tone, in awe of her always, let their last thoughts be that this was all instinctive and real and-
“You’ll get there,” Jessica murmurs, and she’s still not as steady as she should be but she’d asked for a distraction and she got it and she’s happy enough. “I have faith in you.”
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Could you do a mob Tom Holland reacting to the reader where the reader is over working herself lately and forgets to sleep, eat and stay hydrated properly and that sort of stuff. So, when they're busy stalking her they see that she left her front door open and she's literally collapsed on the floor out of exhaustion and started to sleep there? Fun fact: That might end up being me by tomorrow or after 2 days approx.
Hey lovey, thank you so much for the request! I know it's taken me a couple of days to get around to writing this so hopefully you've had a lovely rest and some downtime to reset after being so busy. I do feel slightly called out by this request if I'm honest because, same. Just remember to be nice to yourself, your body can handle a lot but it needs a little looking after too. Drink your water, have lots of yummy snacks, and most importantly have a nice long sleep!
I hope this is close to what you were after.
Stay safe and take care 💜💜
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1,339 words
You struggled to keep your eyes open as you stumbled to your door. It was well past nine, you’d only meant to stay an extra hour at work but, like it had for the past three days, the time had got away from you. Every time you’d made to leave there was another issue, another customer, another delivery. Before you’d even realised it you’d worked almost double your shifted hours each day and you be lying if you said you weren’t feeling it now. Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you fought with the lock. Stepping into the hallway you gratefully dropped your bag and fished it out.
‘Why are you only getting home now’ the message read. Then a second later ‘Have you eaten yet?’
Shoulders slumping you pushed the door closed and flicked on the light. You didn’t know how to respond to him. He didn’t normally message to check up on you like that but you didn’t blame him for worrying, or resorting to spying on you. You’d barely had the energy to write back more than one word answers to him, and that was if you got five minutes alone to actually check your phone. As you re-read his words your stomach churned with hunger. You hadn’t eaten yet. After a second you realised you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a drink of anything either. Scrubbing a hand over your face you sat heavily on the bottom step. The intention of kicking off your shoes evaporated as your legs stretched out in front of you and relief flowed through them. Resting your shoulder against the wall you stared past your phone, eyes zoning out as you tried to think of what to say to him. You just needed a second to think. Smothering a yawn your eyes fluttered closed. Just a small second and then you’d let him know you were OK...
***
Tom stared at his phone. It had been twenty minutes since he’d text you. It wasn’t like you to not respond, or to be getting home this late constantly. You’d waved him off with reassurances that you were just busy with work but something about the situation wasn’t sitting right with him. Dialling your phone it rang out and disconnected, unanswered. He knew he shouldn’t doubt you. You were too good a person to lie to him, let alone go behind his back and hide something, but the evasive way you’d been acting had him unsettled.
Standing he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and shrugged it on. The man speaking faltered and cleared his throat. Tom levelled him a look, daring him to question his actions. If he wanted to walk out of a business meeting he damn well would. Buttoning his jacket he pointedly made eye contact with the other twelve men at the table. When no-one spoke he clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder and stalked from the room.
His chauffeur drove him to your house as fast as the traffic would allow. He called you again. Twice. Three times. Growling a profanity he pulled up the tracker app he’d installed on your phone and checked the location again. It still said you were at home. A chill crept in as an errant thought slid into his mind. What if you weren’t alone? Shaking it off, he shoved the phone into his pocket and impatiently waited as the car turned into your street. He had the door open before the car had properly slowed.
Shoving the gate open he hesitated as he took in the dark windows. The only light was in the hallway. Reaching into his jacket his fingers brushed against the cool metal of his gun as unease swirled in his gut.
Trying the door his breath caught as he realised it was unlocked. Hand tightening on his weapon he gently nudged it open until he caught sight of you stretched out on the stairs. For a second his heart constricted, stomach plummeting as he took in how still you were. Then you huffed a sleepy breath and shifted to get more comfortable.
Dragging a hand through his curls he let out a long breath before laughing softly. He was an idiot. The shock of thinking you were unconscious, or worse, felt like a kick from karma for ever doubting you. Watching you so deeply asleep, still wrapped in your jacket, he knew he’d made a mistake by not checking up on you sooner.
Shutting the door quietly he flipped the lock. Kneeling down he slipped off your shoes, tucking them neatly on the rack before winding his arms around you. Lifting you easily he cradled you close as he carried you up the stairs to your bedroom. Toeing the door open he left the light off and wound his way to your side of the bed. As he lay you on top of the duvet you jolted, suddenly wide awake.
***
A startled yelp left you as a dark figure loomed over the bed. Hands flying up to ward them off you caught them hard in the gut. A whoosh of air left them along with a groan.
“Y/N, it’s me.” Tom’s voice broke through the sleep fog still clinging to you.
“Are you OK?” Pushing yourself up your hands fluttered around him, not sure where was safe to touch him. His fingers caught yours, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles.
“I should be asking you that.” The bed shifted as he settled on the edge. In the darkness you could barely see him but you could feel his gaze boring into you.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled biting back a yawn.
“You passed out in the hallway,” he admonished. “You’ve clearly not been taking care of yourself.”
Fingers going limp in his hold you dropped your head guiltily. He wasn’t wrong. You had pushed yourself too far this time.
The bedside lamp flared to life, searing your eyes for a second until they adjusted. When you found the courage to look up he was watching you with pensive stare. You knew what he must be thinking. You were a mess. A huge contrast to him in every way. Where your hair was a mess from rushing about all day, his was perfectly dishevelled. Your clothes were rumpled from being hastily thrown on this morning and his suit was crisp and sharp even after a full day of work.
“I guess I’m just going to have to take care of you.” He said it with a straight face but you flushed at the double meaning.
“You don’t have to do that, Tom. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do tonight.”
“None more important than you.” His lips quirked when you stared dumbly at him. Shrugging out of his coat he dropped it at the end of the bed and undid his cufflinks.
“Are you hungry, baby?” Your throat dried up as you watched him roll up his sleeves. When you didn’t answer he raised an eyebrow, hands going to his hips.
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” you whispered.
“Good.” He crossed to your dresser and pulled out your favourite pyjamas. “Put these on, and get under the covers.” Taking the empty glass from your bedside table he disappeared for a minute before returning with it filled to the brim with water.
“I want this gone by the time I get back,” he ordered.
“Where are you going?” you asked, suddenly worried.
Cupping your face he kissed your forehead. “Relax. I’m going to make you something to eat.”
Slumping back against the cushions you smiled up at him.
“I can’t wait to see that,” you teased. He’d never personally made you anything before. Everything usually came straight from his personal chef, or a nearby restaurant.
“If you don’t get changed and drink your water you won’t get anything,” he warned.
Your stomach growled loudly in protest.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you,” he promised.
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Taglist: @rosie-posie08 @woahmrstark
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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years
Text
Calling Out For Her
Cassandra Dimitrescu x She/Her Reader
A/N: Cassandra is my favorite I just love that girl. I thought it was real neat that Lady D could just call out for her and she’d appear so that inspired this. Some typical resident evil violence and language in here and Cassandra isn’t exactly nice at first, but she figures out how to be personable...kinda. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 6,158
(Y/n) was exceptionally careful. If tasked to understand what had allowed her to survive in the castle for so long, she would say it was because she was so careful, meticulous, with her work. All she had to do was follow a certain set of rules.
A polite tone brimming with reverence, ‘Yes Lady Dimitrescu’ or, ‘yes ladies Bela, Cassandra and Daniela’. Never a no, even if warranted, unless you want your eyes level with your toes and cool air meeting your stump of a neck. Always serve with a curtsy, never meet their eyes, never ask questions, keep your head down and clean, clean, clean like your life depends on it because like with everything else, it does.
The bottom line was that (Y/n) knew how to survive in the castle of Dimitrescu. It took tact, forward thinking, and a bit of luck. But today, after a very respectable nine months of service, (Y/n)’s luck had apparently run out. She had royally fucked up.
“Oh, fuck me—!“ (Y/n) hissed, followed by a sharp gasp as her grip slipped because of the dip of the chandelier.
She had no one to blame but herself. She had been assigned to clean the banisters and chandeliers of the foyer and had leaned out just a little too far with her duster. Thus, her scramble for purchase on the confounding light fixture to save her from cracking her skull on the marble floor below.
“H...help!” (Y/n) called, barely above her usual speaking tone. She dared not speak louder for fear of alerting any of the bloodthirsty daughters of her predicament. She could only hope one of her fellow maids was working nearby.
“No, nonono—“ the words left (Y/n)’s  mouth faster than her lips could move. One of the metal weldings that held up the chandelier was creaking and becoming dangerously loose as time ticked by.
“Help!” (Y/n) called a little louder, the desperation bleeding into her tone as her fingers dug painfully into the decorative, jewel encrusted rim of the chandelier.
Yet still not a sound besides the creak of old metal giving way. Nine months of service to the Lady of the Castle and this was never how (Y/n) imagined she’d go. It wasn’t uncommon for some maids to take their life by their own hand, but (Y/n) wanted to keep fighting—!
“Ah!” (Y/n) cried sharply. The chandelier’s tether frayed a bit further, causing it to drop a few inches. She was fully panicking now, arms aching and chest heaving as she dangled. She made the mistake of looking at the cold, hard floor below and that only made her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to go out like this!
The chandelier fell another inch, stinging (Y/n)’s fingers. She was gripping so hard she was sure her fingers must have been bleeding. She needed someone, anyone to come and somehow in her panicked state, she thought of her Lady. If her Lady needed something done and done fast, all she had to do was call out her name and she would be there in an instant. Somehow in (Y/n)’s desperate mind, she thought that calling upon the most ruthless of the Dimitrescu Family was her best course of action.
“Cassandra!” (Y/n) yelled, closing her eyes tightly and fighting to maintain her precarious grip.
For a few seconds, there was just the creaking the chandelier and (Y/n) didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated by the silence. Before she could resign herself to her fate, a faint buzzing could be heard below, growing in intensity until (Y/n) could see the swarm of blowflies collecting below her until they completely formed the middle Dimitrescu daughter. She looked up at (Y/n) with a sneer on her blood stained lips.
“Well, well, well. I must say that this is a first for me.” Cassandra hummed, a fist over her hip as she craned her head up, twisting this way and that to really get a good look. Yes, a maid hanging from a chandelier must have been a novelty to the monstrous woman indeed.
“Just how did you get into this predicament little mouse? Perhaps you are more of a monkey, hmm?” Cassandra giggled sadistically before idly licking the blood from her lips, smearing it around more than anything.
“I leaned too far over the banister while I was dusting.” (Y/n) explained through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her aching grip.
“Mmm, how clumsy of you.” Cassandra laughed again, moving her arms to rest across her chest, she propped her chin up in her gloved hand as she regarded (Y/n) with glee. “You know, I was going to skin you alive. You had called me away from cellar time after all, new arrivals are always the most fun to break. Not to mention that you, some lowly maid, think that I, a noblewoman of the House, am at your beck and call. Yes, I was going to kill you myself but now I’m curious,” Cassandra’s smirk widened to a full blown maniacal grin, “what will give out first? Your arms, or the chandelier?”
“Lady Cassandra, please!” (Y/n) wasn’t sure where she thought pleading would get her, but people will do all kinds of things they wouldn’t normally do under duress. Including begging a known sadistic killer to save them from certain death.
“Oh, she remembers her manners!” Cassandra mocked, “Do me a favor and just fall already. I fear I might be developing a crick in my neck.”
(Y/n) could feel the heat of incoming tears sting her eyes as she dangled several feet above her one woman audience. Well, no one could say she didn’t try. She started mumbling a little prayer for herself that turned into a yelp as the chandelier fell another half a foot, a much larger drop than the occasional two to three inches. The sudden gravity shift yanked (Y/n)’s hands clean off the chandelier, slicing her skin terribly as she tried to grab back on. She missed, she was falling.
(Y/n) couldn’t even scream, she just closed her eyes as tightly as she could and waited to meet the ground... speaking of which, shouldn’t she have hit it already?
(Y/n) peeled open an eye and slowly allowed herself to finally take in the buzzing that was surrounding her. Blowflies. She peered down past the swarm to see Cassandra, half formed with her arms outstretched, ready to receive her. (Y/n) could only stare, mouth slightly agape, as she was settled in Cassandra’s arms, watching the blowflies that had carried her mesh back into Cassandra’s legs.
“Why so surprised?” Cassandra asked with a mock sweetness that made (Y/n) shiver, “I simply couldn’t let you die just yet. No, I think I’d like to play with you just a little while longer.”
Cassandra happened to glance at the bloody hands clutched tightly to the maid’s chest and hummed. Adjusting her strong hold on the paralyzed maiden, she clutched the outermost wrist tightly and pulled it to her bloodied lips for a sample.
“Mm,” Cassandra appraised, passing her tongue over the cuts again, “yes, I think I’ll enjoy taking my time with you.” She cackled before unceremoniously dropping (Y/n) to the floor at a much safer, but still painful height.
“Go patch yourself up, my prey. You’re dismissed.” She said and then, she dispersed into a swarm of blowflies and was gone, her laughter bouncing off of the high ceilings.
(Y/n) sat on the floor dumbstruck, before finally getting up on shaky legs. She made her way to the maid’s quarters and upon seeing that it was empty, she allowed herself to cry as she cleaned and dressed her fingers. Lady Cassandra had saved her, saved her for a worse fate by her own hand no doubt. All she could do was wait.
***
Cassandra was a menace.
After the chandelier incident, (Y/n) found herself assigned to areas of the castle that Cassandra was known to frequent. There was never a minute’s rest when the middle child was free from her mother and sisters and even if Cassandra was occupied, (Y/n) often found herself nipped by the occasional stray blowfly as she did her work. There was no question in her mind where they had come from.
Yes, having caught Lady Cassandra’s eye had created a lot of extra work for the poor girl with extra antagonism. She’d poke and prod and pull, jostling (Y/n) around while she tried to stay on task. She would drag bloodied bodies through the carpeted halls (Y/n) had just cleaned and laugh as the poor maid went to restock her cleaning supplies. Cassandra would even demand (Y/n) drop everything to run her baths when she had grow tired of running around with blood smeared all over her like a toddler left alone with finger paints. She’d smugly present her bloodied face to (Y/n), silently demanding she wipe it clean for her and when she was satisfied, she would lean back in her tub and order (Y/n) to clean the bloodied weapons she’d drop dangerously close to her feet.  
Cassandra was insufferable, yet, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think positively because it could have easily been much worse. For as taxing as dealing with Cassandra could be, she had never hurt her, not really anyway. Not like the poor maid who went to clean the armory and left with one less arm than she went in with. The occasional bite of a blowfly stung and the shoves and pinches could be bruising, but at least she still had all her limbs, no broken bones or sickle scars puckering her skin.
(Y/n) sighed to herself as she polished the same battle axe for the third time that week. She was the only maid allowed to clean the armory anymore after Bianca lost her arm. Lady Cassandra had said that only (Y/n) knew how to clean her toys with proper care and could make them twice as shiny and sharp. A few of the other maids would darkly joke with (Y/n) in the serving quarters about the middle Dimitrescu having a crush on her, but (Y/n) would simply dismiss their gossip and continue her work without complaint. Such rumors could be dangerous after all.
As (Y/n) heaved the axe back into its place on the wall, she heard the thrum of quick light feet running across the carpeted hall just outside. She frowned to herself, but kept working. Assuming it was just just another poor girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. However the door the the armory clicked open, and the slightly out of breath maid (Y/n) recognized as Moiara peaked in, flushed from all her running no doubt.
“Lady Dimitrescu is ordering all of the maids back to their quarters immediately.” The girl urgently informed.
“Whatever for?” (Y/n) asked, brows furrowed in concern. It was a most unusual order.
“Apparently a pack of Moroaica have escaped the cellar and are currently roaming the castle. The Lady’s daughters are hunting them down, but it could take some time to clear everything up. Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t wish to lose more workers than she can replace.” Moiara explained, albeit the last line came out a touch bitterly.
“I understand, I’ll make my way now. Be safe.”
“Thank you.” Moiara nodded before darting off again.
(Y/n) cautiously made her way to the door and peered down both ends of the hallway. Noting that it was clear, she left the doorway and shut the armory door before quickly walking in the direction of the maid’s quarters. It was quite a walk and (Y/n)’s heart went out to Moiara and the rest of the girls who were still scattered further within the castle’s walls.
The halls were eerily quiet and empty, not unusual, but with the added threat lurking, well, it made it a tad more unsettling. It was laughable really, for (Y/n) to be afraid now. The threat of death loomed over her head constantly and only now she was concerned?
(Y/n) chuckled despite herself as she rounded another bend, hardly checking her surroundings as she crossed the third hallway and then the fourth.
“Oh!” (Y/n) tripped on a raised wrinkle in the rug, her hand automatically grasped the curtain beside her to steady herself. She was lucky it didn’t rip or surely the Lady of the House would have her head, never mind the Moroaica.
As she made to steady herself on her own two feet again, the curtain she had grasped twisted harshly and was ripped from her surprised and slackened grip. (Y/n) felt her blood run cold and her feet turn to lead as the ‘curtain’ reached out for her, revealing rotten, gnarled fingers that snapped (Y/n)’s bicep in a firm squeeze. As it completed its turn, (Y/n) saw scraggly, yellowed teeth lunge for her neck.
She attempted to keep the stray Moroaica at bay. The whole interaction, frightening and life threatening as it was, was a near silent struggle. It was as if (Y/n) had lost her voice completely. All that came from her were stuttering gasps as the creature snarled and snapped at her.
It wrestled her to the floor and clawed at her clothes and skin, drawing the blood that it seemed to desperately crave. (Y/n) struggled and kicked at the creature but it was unrelenting and finally something happened that helped (Y/n) find her voice, she screamed.
The Moroaica clawed at her ribs, tearing fabric, skin and muscle alike. (Y/n)’s fighting grew weaker the more the monster dug at her and her mouth was still parted from her pained screams but they were now near silent croaks as the pain and blood loss threatened her consciousness. Seemingly noticing her weakened state, the Moroaica neared its yellowing teeth to her exposed flesh and—
“Oo, look Bela! I found another one~!”
(Y/n) reflexively closed her eyes and felt something hot and wet splatter across her face. She heard a squelching noise and felt dead weight fall against her body as Daniela’s giggles filled the hall.
“You shouldn’t be having so much fun.” Bela grumbled at her sister. “I knew mother should have sent you to your room. It would have been a more fitting punishment.”
“Okay, so maybe I forgot to lock the cellar, but you can’t say you aren’t having a good time as well.” Daniela said, grinning when Bela rolled her eyes, a small shadow of a smile forming on the eldest sister’s lips.
“Aw, look,” Daniela grunted, kicking at the dead Moroaica until its corpse rolled off of (Y/n), “well, let’s not let her go to waste. Her blood still smells good.”
“Wait, Daniela,” Bela said, holding her younger sister’s shoulder as she peered down at the bloodied maid her breaths coming raggedly as she fought to open her eyes. Bela sniffed and winced, shooting her sister a look.
“Daniela, take a closer look.”
“Ugh, fine,” the youngest groaned and leaned forward, “I don’t see why...” Daniela paused, her back went rigid. She just stared at (Y/n) for a few moments before finally turning to her sister, lips pursed.
“Cass is literally going to kill me.”
“You think?” Bela said, almost with complete disinterest.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me! If she dies, I die!” Daniela hissed, couching beside (Y/n) to assess the damage.
“I don’t know, I think I would kind of like to see Cassandra hunt you for sport.” Bela smirked.
“Bela!”
“Alright, alright.” Bela sighed, couching at (Y/n)’s other side.
The last thing the maid could make out before succumbing to unconsciousness was a dull, muffled buzzing and a feeling of weightlessness.
***
When (Y/n) awoke, she immediately noted that her throat was drier than a desert wind; her stomach and ribs also burned and itched like nothing she had ever experienced. She gingerly touched her stomach and found it covered in bandages. Her head ached so she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few moments.
With great effort she hoisted herself into a sitting position and had to do a double take of her surroundings. This was not the maid’s quarters and given the amount of time she had been spending in here lately, she was quick to realize she was in Lady Cassandra’s room, in her bed. Before (Y/n) could really let it all sink in, the door was yanked open.
Cassandra stalked in, shutting the door tightly behind her before standing over (Y/n) with a fire blazing in her golden eyes. A blowfly (Y/n) had initially failed to notice crawled down the bedpost before meshing back into Cassandra’s body. Apparently she had been being watched.
“Why didn’t you call for me?” Cassandra gritted out, gripping the bedpost so hard (Y/n) was afraid it would splinter.
“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) questioned, still feeling numb and achy and not at all ready for such aggressive energy.
“Glad to know you still remember.”Cassandra said mockingly before her voice became low and serious again, “You were in trouble, why didn’t you call for me?”
“I don’t...” (Y/n) winced and held her head, it felt like she was on a boat in rocky waters.
Cassandra took notice and with surprising gentleness, lowered (Y/n) to rest fully against the bed once more. She even offered (Y/n) water and helped her drink. Then she checked her temperature, the cool touch of her skin felt wonderful against (Y/n)’s aching head.
“What happened?” (Y/n) murmured, whining when Cassandra went to remove her hand. A bit hesitantly, she put it back. A small, prideful smile curved at her lips when (Y/n) relaxed against her touch.
“Don’t you remember?” Cassandra scoffed, “I swear, you humans are so unbelievably fragile. You were attacked by a Moroaica that strayed from its pack. Bela and the idiot who caused the whole mess found you. I did some sucking up to mother and we fixed you up with a little herbal remedy,” Cassandra frowned her voice becoming a tad accusatory, “Yet you still slept for a long time.”
“I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience Lady Cassandra.” (Y/n) spoke up after trying to absorb all that Cassandra had told her. Surely it would have taken more than a, ‘little herbal remedy’ to fix what had happened to her.
(Y/n) scrunched her eyes shut when Cassandra suddenly growled and pinched the maid’s nose.
“I’m glad you realize it. Do you know how infuriating it is to watch another maid handle my weaponry all wrong? To not make my room the way that I like it? Ugh, I’d have killed them all if mother let me.” She let go of (Y/n)’s nose, swiping the side of her index finger playfully over the bridge a couple times before re-settling her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.
“That’s why, when you’re all better, you are going to have to train one of those imbeciles how to do it right.”
“I can do it myself, Lady Cassandra. I can get back to work tomorrow I’m sure of it.” (Y/n) nearly pleaded. She was sure any girl she trained would end up killed anyway. There were too many little things that could set Cassandra off to count.
“There is no more cleaning for you. You’re retired.”
“Retired?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but gawk up at Cassandra. The notion was wholly unbelievable. No one retired from serving the Dimitrescus’ unless you counted dying as a form of retirement.
“Yes.” Cassandra said with near vicious finality.
“Lady Cassandra, my parents count on the lei I send them from my job here, please reconsider. There is no work for me back at the village and I’d just be another mouth my family cannot afford to feed.” (Y/n) beseeched, her body quaked with fever.
“Calm yourself.” Cassandra spoke as if attempting to be soft, but was still very on edge. “Your family will still receive money. You aren’t going back to the village.”
“I’m not?” (Y/n)’s brows drew together with further confusion, “but, then what will be my purpose if I’m not to work?”
“Does it really matter?” Cassandra flustered, a buzzing sound filled the space between them, “Your family is getting money and you don’t have to do anything for it, be grateful!” Cassandra pinched (Y/n)’s cheek a bit harshly before standing and stalking away. The buzzing following her as she tore the door open once more.
“I’ll be back with lunch.” The Dimitrescu grumbled before closing the door behind her once more.
“What is going on?” (Y/n) whispered to herself in disbelief before resting her head fully back against the pillow. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head just in time to watch a blowfly crawl back into the dark canopy of the bed.
***
(Y/n) wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Suddenly, she had all this free time on her hands and would for a long time apparently. It was nice when she was still recovering, but now that she had healed, she felt antsy.
Cassandra had handpicked a trembling maid for (Y/n) to train, but even those sessions did not last long as the poor girl, Anca was her name, was still expected to complete other chores. Something that did help to pass the time however was Cassandra herself, strangely enough. She was always the one to bring (Y/n) meals unless she was busy with some task her mother had given her, also giving (Y/n) little gifts and talking to her throughout each day. Sometimes the ‘gifts’ were gruesome and the talks seemed more like interrogations, but the effort in which Cassandra put into every interaction left (Y/n) intrigued with, and appreciative of the middle child.
Now wasn’t one of those times unfortunately, and (Y/n) found herself pacing the floor of her room, yes, one of her very own. Given to her by Cassandra right across the hall from her own. Now that she was well enough to do more on her own, she had been moved there about three weeks ago to have her own space. Another thing that was unheard of coming from the middle Dimitrescu. (Y/n) paused by the window to look out upon the snowy ground below.
“Miss (Y/n)?” A knock on the door, “May I speak with you?”
“Anca,” (Y/n) paused her paces, that was strange. There had been no plans for a lesson tonight. Nevertheless, (Y/n) was happy for the company. Ever since Cassandra had removed her from service, the other maids had avoided (Y/n) like a plague “please come in.”
The nervous little maid came in, closing the door tightly behind her, shoulders stiff as she slowly approached and took a seat in the chair (Y/n) offered to her.
“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” (Y/n) frowned, reaching out to comfort her only to watch Anca shrink away from her hand.
“Lady Cassandra,” she spoke, looking wildly around the room, “she will kill me I’m sure of it. What game are you playing?”
“Game? I’m playing no game.” (Y/n) tried to assure. “Has she said anything to you? I promise I’m covering every base I can—”
“You aren’t doing enough!” She screeched, startling the other. “I’ve seen the way she treats you. The privileges you’ve gained. This is all a set up! You were in my shoes not long ago, have you really lost your humanity so quickly?”
“Anca, please, calm yourself. I’m not working against you, I swear.” (Y/n) tried to explain. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help you. How can I help you?”
“How?” Anca mumbled, rubbing at her dark rimmed eyes. “It’s all because of you that I’m in this mess to begin with!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Anca.”
“No, I really don’t think you are.” Anca sniffed, rising from her chair. “But maybe there is something you can do to help me. I’m already dead, but I want to hurt Lady Cassandra before I go and I think I can do just that,” she pulled a knife from her apron, “if I take you down with me!”
“Anca!” (Y/n) screamed, stumbling away just before the knife could strike her.
“Just hold still! I’ll do it fast, please!” Anca cried as she swiped at her again. “Let me just have this one thing! This one last fuck you to this hell hole!”
“Stop! You’re making a mistake!” (Y/n) tried again, wrestling with Anca for the knife.
The scuffle went on for minutes before (Y/n) was thrown to the back wall, the knife missed her head just barely and sunk into the wood behind her. As Anca struggled to hold her in place and wedge the knife free, (Y/n) called out for her without even realizing it until the blood drained from Anca’s face.
“Cassandra!”
“No, shut up! Shut up you bitch!” Anca squealed, rocking the knife more vigorously.
“Cass—“ (Y/n) tried to call out again, this time fully aware of what she was doing, only to be head-butted by Anca in a desperate attempt to quiet her while she continued to work at the knife.
It was too late for that however, as proven by angry buzzing sounds roaring through the hallway and sliding under the door before forming right at Anca’s back, a cold hand joined Anca’s over the knife and grasped her so hard, (Y/n) could hear the maid’s fingers crack.
“You want this knife, do you?” Cassandra sneered, “Please, allow me.”
Cassandra tugged the knife from the wall like it had been warm butter, Anca’s hand still clenched in her own. She used her other arm to pull Anca off of (Y/n) with a rough tug and hardly took more than a few steps away before plunging the knife deep into the girl’s chest.
“There you go. You’re welcome you miserable little wretch.” Cassandra raked the knife downward, slicing Anca’s flesh all the way down to the hip as the poor girl screamed. “That will teach you to touch what doesn’t belong to you!”
(Y/n) could only watch, wide-eyed and trembling as Cassandra dissolved into her swarm, allowing Anca to fall to the floor before hundreds of little mouths began working at her flesh until the screaming ceased and all that was discernible was a frozen expression of agony on Anca’s face.
The blowflies came back together after a few more moments of feeding and Cassandra reformed, crouched beside (Y/n). (Y/n) didn’t even realize she had sunk to the floor during the gruesome attack.
Cassandra raised a blood covered hand to (Y/n)’s cheek, turning the face in her grasp, she assessed the damage, buzzing all the while. Somehow the sound felt, calming, reassuring. (Y/n) didn’t even flinch away from her touches and instead found herself leaning into them.
“Just look at what that thing did to you,” Cassandra hissed as she watched the blood leak from (Y/n)’s nose, “I should have killed her even slower.”
(Y/n) sniffled, leaning her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming.”
“I’ll always come to you if you call for me,” Cassandra sighed and pulled (Y/n) into her lap. She smelled almost overwhelmingly of blood, but (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to care. “No one has ever called for me like you have before. No one that wasn’t my mother or sisters anyway,” Cassandra bit her lip, “I... at first, I was enraged that you called for me that first time, but the more I thought about it... Ugh! You made me feel all gross and buzzy inside. I’m just so used to humans fearing me, associating me with death. Never have I been called by one expecting to be saved from it.”
“Is that why you helped me after that Moroaica had attacked me?” (Y/n) asked, her voice still muffled by Cassandra’s shoulder. She didn’t really want to catch sight of Anca’s remains again while in the arms of her killer.
“Yes. I’m still mad at you for that.” Cassandra growled, “Why didn’t you call for me that time? I thought we had an understanding.”
“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) chuckled despite everything, “But I think understandings are usually met through open communication. I’m sorry I didn’t interpret your bug bites and general antagonisms as anything but blatant harassment.”
“Excuse me?” Cassandra snarled, reminding (Y/n) just how frightening she could be.
“I, I’m sorry Lady Cassandra. I forget myself.” (Y/n) stammered before gasping as Cassandra effortlessly rose to her feet with (Y/n) still in her arms.
“You must be awfully tired to be so mouthy. I can’t imagine you’ll want to sleep with a corpse on your rug so you’ll just have to sleep in my room until the maids clean this mess up. I suppose I’ll need to fix your nose too. So fragile, my prey is.” Cassandra sighed, clearly feeling inconvenienced by the whole situation. Though she carefully maneuvered out of the doorway so (Y/n) wouldn’t bump against it as they made the short trip across the hall to her room.
“You treat me quite well for being prey.” (Y/n) tested with caution. “You protect me, but why? Is it all so you can end me yourself at your own leisure?”
“Oh wow Cass, you really know how to make a maiden feel special.”
“I knew she was full of it, Bela! I bet they haven’t so much as kissed yet!”
(Y/n) felt Cassandra’s grip on her tighten as the mocking voices of her sisters closed in on them before Cassandra could slink into her room.
“Shut the hell up and mind your own business!” Cassandra fumed, crossing the threshold into her room before kicking the door shut, making a thunderous slam reverberate off of the castle walls.
Bela and Daniela merely giggled, seeping through the cracks of the doors before reforming over their sister’s bed, nearly falling on top of each other as Cassandra sped past them to take (Y/n) into her en-suite bathroom.
She placed (Y/n) on top on the counter and tweaked her nose without warning, making (Y/n) yelp in pain.
“Quiet prey, I needed to set your nose back into place is all,” Cassandra wrinkled her nose as more blood oozed from the abused cartilage, “damn, why must you smell so enticing.”
(Y/n) couldn’t find any words, both because her nose stung like hell and she was still stuck on what Daniela and Bela were taunting Cassandra about, so she just managed a small shrug.
Cassandra hardly seemed to mind her lack of verbal response. She was too busy grinding her teeth as her sisters continued to whisper and laugh in the bedroom. Cassandra quickly wiped and stuffed (Y/n)’s nose, nearly hissing at her to remain still before going back to deal with her unruly siblings, licking the stray blood from her fingers as she went.
(Y/n) tried to give her some privacy, she really did, but it was hard not to listen in when they were speaking so loudly, and about herself no less.
“You two get out of my room, now!” Cassandra commanded.
“Why? It’s not like anything unseemly is going to be happening in here. Right, Daniela?” Bela giggled while Daniela downright cackled with glee.
“Get. Out. Now!” Cassandra bellowed.
“Oh no Cassie,” Daniela waggled a finger, snatching it back before Cassandra could bite it, “you spend weeks pretending to have gone all the way with dear (Y/n) over there like some casanova and now we find out she doesn’t even know you like her?”
“What’s the matter Cassandra? It isn’t like you to be so chaste.” Bela said with a smirk.
“She must really like this one to be taking her time like this.” Daniela hypothesized with a bloodstained grin.
“Leave you idiots!” Cassandra nearly screamed, “She can probably hear everything you’re spewing! I’ll throw you out in the cold, don’t think I won’t!”
“Geez Cass, no need to be so hostile,” Bela shivered at the thought.
“Yeah, you take your well deserved teasings or we’ll tell mother you are not playing fair.” Daniela added with a pout.
Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose shutting her eyes tightly before releasing her nose with a growl and snapping her gaze back to her sisters.
“What do you want?” She grumbled.
“Oo! I want the best bits of your next hunt!” Daniela immediately proclaimed.
“I want to watch you flounder about whilst you try to explain your affections to the maiden.” Bela had said after a moment of consideration.
“Oh! That sounds fun. I retract my previous statement. I want what Bela’s having.” Daniela wiggled.
“I hate you both.” Cassandra huffed before stalking back to the bathroom, her giggling sister’s on her heels. (Y/n) quickly shot her gaze down at her swinging feet, suddenly more interested in the patterns of the floor below.
It didn’t take long for Cassandra to grab (Y/n)’s jaw and pull her face upward to meet her golden eyes.
“Listen prey,” Cassandra swallowed and blinked, her eyes darting all around (Y/n)’s face, “I...”
“Come on, Cassandra. It’s not that difficult.” Bela cooed, egging her sister on.
“I could tell her for you. That would be fun.” Daniela suggested, shrinking back just a bit at the look Cassandra shot her over her shoulder.
“Prey, (Y/n), I... Why is this so hard!” She stomped her foot and her nails bit into (Y/n)’s skin a bit too harshly, “I like you a lot and that’s why I’ve been helping you. I want you to like me too. Do you? Be honest.” She asked with a bit of hostility.
Did (Y/n) like Cassandra? Either way, it seemed like a death sentence to say no. Cassandra seemed to notice (Y/n)’s trepidation and quickly added,
“You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, just tell me the truth. If the answer is not to my liking then I guess I’ll simply have to try harder.” She said as if the words physically hurt her to say.
(Y/n) thought back on all of her interactions with Cassandra in a new light. Actually being caught as she fell, the schoolyard boy with a crush behavior (which honestly didn’t give the her any points but did make sense for how the murderous woman might try to show affection), most promising was how she brought (Y/n) back to health and continued to send money to her struggling family despite not working. Then of course she had saved her from Anca’s knife, wasting no time in cutting her down and checking (Y/n) over with care.
(Y/n) gave Cassandra a small smile that steadily grew a bit wider as golden eyes traced the movement and a hopeful sounding buzz began warbling in the back of her throat. Even the sisters standing behind her buzzed in unison, seemingly feeling their sister’s hope and growing excitement.
“Lady Cassandra, I like you too—Eep!”
Cassandra’s face dove into (Y/n)’s neck as her strong arms wrapped around (Y/n) to hold her still as she nuzzled and buzzed to her heart’s content. Bela and Daniela dissolved into their swarms and were haphazardly flying around them in celebration.
Cassandra gave (Y/n)’s neck a playful nip, much softer than a blowfly, before standing back to her full height and throwing (Y/n) over her shoulder.
“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) tried, wiggling a bit in the sudden new hold.
“Shhh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” Cassandra said, craning her neck to look up at her sisters still buzzing above them, “Buzz off.” She told them. The clouds of flies let out a bout of disembodied laughter before slipping back under the door, feeling that they had given their sister enough grief for one night.
Once Cassandra was sure they were gone, she tossed (Y/n) on to the bed and climbed in as well, hovering over the stuttering maiden.
“Wuh- wait, Cassandra, I know we established we like each other but—“ the former maid flustered as Cassandra rested her full weight over (Y/n)’s body and moaned pleasantly in her ear.
“Mm, you’re so warm. I could just lay here forever.” She sighed, snaking her hands underneath (Y/n)’s back.
“Thank... you?” (Y/n) awkwardly replied. For as tall and strong as Cassandra was, she was surprisingly light. (Y/n) figured the fact that she was made up of flies had something to do with that.
Cassandra hummed some more, nuzzling her nose in the crook of (Y/n)’s neck and breathing so deeply that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle. There was a bit of concern bleeding in the back of her mind, but the smiling lips on her collarbone were quick to distract her.
“I quite like it when you make that sound, it’s sweet. But right now I’m quite tired, and I would like for you to be quiet now. I’m listening to your blood move.”
Well, that was a slightly terrifying admission. (Y/n) must’ve been going mad because she reacted no differently than if she had said she was listening to her heartbeat.
“Goodnight then.” (Y/n) murmured, slowly patting Cassandra’s hair, earning a low continuous buzzing that persisted until they had fallen asleep together.
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soulmate-game · 3 years
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part 2 (of that new bio!dad fic)
Dick whipped his head over to Bruce, who could feel the heavy gazes of all his children as if they were physical. If they had had heat vision like Clark, he would have already been reduced to a puddle of mush. Bruce shifted, the only sign of his discomfort, but he recognized that the middle of a gala was no place for this discussion. There were too many busybodies trying to listen in for the latest gossip. So he plastered on a smile that he couldn’t quite feel, and held a hand out to Marinette. He was careful to keep a good distance though, and left the choice for contant purely up to her.
The young woman looked down at his hand, then back to his face. Damian had been shocked silent by what she had to say, and perhaps even more by the all too telling way that Bruce hadn’t so much as implied that she was lying, and the look he was giving her was making her a little uncomfortable. Yes, she hadn’t planned on interacting with her father more than just the years-overdue confrontation she had just done, at least not while at the gala… but her plans always left room for improvisation. She could make this work.
With a soft sigh, Marinette extended her own hand— half the size of Bruce’s, he noted almost immediately with a rush of illogical fondness— and grasped his lightly. She couldn’t help but notice the way his impossibly blue eyes brightened, no different than her own when she was particularly happy, or the way his mouth twitched with a barely suppressed beam. Instead, he controlled himself enough so that the only smile he gave would look professional and entirely in character to the nosy socialites still spying on them, and led them out onto the dance floor.
What everyone else saw was the unfairly charming Bruce Wayne giving his young guest of honor a simple dance. Just a basic swirl around the floor that every other social elite had learned when they were five. Clearly he was taking it easy on the self-made girl, who probably didn’t have experience with such dances. Humoring the accomplished young woman with his approval for a moment before he would slink back to his family or patrol the crowds and make the necessary greetings and meaningless chatter.
What his family saw was Bruce taking time to slow his steps, not for Marinette to keep up but rather to prolong the event. What they saw was the grace in Marinette’s steps as she never once faltered, and that Bruce was careful to take his cues from her instead of the other way around. He only led the dance in technicality, Marinette had all the real control.
What they saw was a father’s first dance with his daughter.
“Eighteen,” Dick whispered, eyebrows drawn low. “She said she’s almost eighteen.”
“Well, that lines up doesn’t it?” Jason asked gruffly, his own gaze never leaving the dancing duo. “We were planning on doubling up your big thirtieth birthday party as your eighteenth adoption anniversary,” he reminded his brother, who just made a slightly distressed noise in the back of his throat. Whether it was at the reinforcement of his adoption coming only months after Marinette being put up for adoption, or the fact that he was turning thirty, nobody could really tell.
“Hurt,” Cassandra spoke up from behind them, looking incredibly concerned as she watched the dance. “Uncertain.”
Stephany rolled her eyes, fidgeting from her quickly building energy. Anger was making her restless. “Of course she’s hurt. Bruce replaced her, with a boy he knew virtually nothing about, not even that long after she was born. How do you think that made her feel, when she found out?” Stephany let out a little growl, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing server and downing it in one gulp. She ignored Dick protesting that she wasn’t of age yet, which made her wrinkle her nose. “Only one more year, Dickhead. Get over it, I need the buzz.”
“Well,” Barbara sighed and maneuvered her wheelchair around the group so that everyone could see her. “Nothing we can do right now but be supportive and watch Bruce like a hawk so he doesn’t make this worse,” she stated easily, not looking even the least bit ruffled by the news despite the disturbed glitter in her eyes.
“... Guys,” Tim spoke up, not looking at any of them. “Who wants to volunteer for Damian duty?” At first glance, it might seem like Tim was thinking about his own first disastrous meeting with the younger boy. Once everyone paid attention though, they could see that the truth was that Damian had snuck away and Tim was pointedly looking at a slightly hidden-away staircase to the second floor.
“Shit,” Dick muttered, but before he could say another word Jason shoved him back and started towards the stairs.
“No, not this time Dicky. I’ll talk to the brat.”
Back on the dancefloor, Bruce and Marinette broke away without any fanfare at the end of the song. If Bruce tried to hold her eyes for a moment too long, nobody noticed besides his observant children, and two of Marinette’s protective friends.
Then, just to make sure that nobody caught on with the help of hindsight, Bruce said something vaguely polite and praising, which Marinette accepted with flawless, distant poise. And they went back to their own groups, Bruce quickly noting that two of his sons were missing. He raised an eyebrow, about to ask why when a presence behind him caught his attention. Unlike Marinette and Chloe, this newcomer was not at all trying to hide their approach or be sneaky about it, even though Bruce couldn’t hear any footsteps that were close enough to belong to the mysterious entity. Closing his mouth, Bruce turned around only to be greeted by yet another vaguely familiar face. Bright green eyes bore into his, unreadable.
“Mister Wayne,” the newcomer greeted, voice warm but stiff. If the Waynes hadn’t all had years of recognizing when a person was only pretending to be cordial, they never would have suspected that the boy was anything but pure-heartedly happy to be there. But they did have that experience, and thus they instantly honed in on the very well-hidden fact that he had a bone to pick with them. Or, more probably, with Bruce.
He cut an impressive figure, for all that he was lithe muscle instead of bulk. Hair that was lighter than Chloe’s, less like cloth-of-gold and more like sunlight glinting off of wheatfields. It somehow hung in gravity-defying tufts, yet perfectly arranged to evoke a calming aesthetic. Like the fluff of a long-haired cat, almost, and it looked just as fluffy and hypnotizing. It contrasted with his emerald eyes, impossibly vibrant in their gleam. And the suit he wore was decidedly top-notch, much like the other two they had met from his class. He was daring, in a dark silver suit that slightly shifted in the light, green accents that matched his eyes standing out strikingly against the collars and trim, and coiling in tantalizing swirls at the cuffs. The lining of the suit jacket was done in a dark green that could almost pass for black in the right lighting, adding a layer of both drama and mystery as it peeked out at the back of his collar, the insides of his sleeves if he moved just the right way, at the bottom hem of the jacket when he turned or bent just so. And with his notoriety in the modeling world? He always knew exactly how to move or place himself to get the reactions he wanted. And he was clearly showing off the craftsmanship of his suit just then as he faked adjusting his cufflinks and lifted his head just the right amount to both look challenging and let the dark green on the back of his collar flash in the light in such a way that Bruce and those nearest him wouldn’t be able to miss the brief reveal of color.
“Adrien Agreste,” Bruce greeted back, eyebrows pulling down in slight confusion. Normally the topic of clothing was far from his genuine interest, but in this particular case it was an intriguing, and possibly even concerning, observation. So he said next; “That suit is not of your father’s usual style of design.”
Adrien scoffed, straightening out his suit’s jacket and making the obsidian buttons glint. “Of course not. I’ve started my rebellious phase— or, well, I finally started being blatant enough about it that my father noticed anyway,” the way his lips curled was decidedly not very attractive, but painted a vivid picture of a son who despised the way he was treated. Adrien quickly wiped the distasteful expression away and replaced it with a camera-ready smile. “I’m wearing one of Marinette’s designs, much to his chagrin. She insisted on making this for me as soon as she heard that my father was planning on sending me in a white suit.”
Bruce quickly caught on, and sighed. How long would the gala go on for, again? He didn’t remember what time it was anymore. “Your friend Chloe already got a pretty clear warning in. I suppose you know as well?”
Adrien’s grin darkened with mischief, and he nodded all too happily. “Of course! Marinette told me almost as soon as she found out, a few years ago. You see, we had to put down a very solid rule about secrets between the two of us. She has a bad habit of trying to shoulder the entire world’s problems and not tell anyone about it, if you don’t pay close enough attention,” his voice was deceptively light but his eyes were hard, warning. “And let’s just say, I have a lot of experience with bad father figures. I can recognize them a mile away by now. The signs of neglect, of apathy,” his eyes suddenly lightened when he saw how Bruce’s throat visibly caught, how the man didn’t seem to realize he had stopped breathing. Maybe he was being a little to mean, Adrien thought. So he let the dark slip out of his eyes, and his smile turned more genuine. “You don’t have those signs. You looked at Marinette like you were both the happiest and most miserable man in the world at the same time. But you can’t change what you did to her, Mister Wayne. If you want some advice from Marinette’s oldest friend?” Adrien held out a closed fist.
Bruce took a second to realize what was happening, too busy trying to recover from his situational whiplash and wave of relief. Once he caught back up to the present, however, he held out his open palm and let Adrien drop something into his hand.
To his shock, it was a pen, engraved with the name he recognized as Marinette’s biological mother. He also recognized it as a popular model of pen-knife. He raised his eyes to Adrien, who winked.
“Marinette doesn’t know I had this made. And she has a lot of tricks that might surprise you, but what she wants more than anything is stability. If you try to give her that, show that you care and you want her safe— and then prove that you’re gonna stay— then maybe you can repair the damage you’ve done. It won’t be easy though, Mari is the single most stubborn person I’ve ever met. And I grew up with Chloe.”
Bruce closed his hand around the pen, swallowing a lump in his throat. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but Adrien’s faith in him and his help… somehow felt significant. He nodded to the young model.
“Not to worry, I have experience with stubborn,” he glanced back at his other kids with a small smirk. None of them were the least bit repentant. “And I do want to stay. Thank you for the advice.”
Adrien shrugged. “Don’t thank me. If you hurt her again, you’ll never see my revenge coming. It can be rather… catastrophic,” with that ominous threat, Adrien bowed dramatically and turned to leave and do some rounds charming the elites. Bruce tucked the pen in one of his hidden pockets, but stayed silent after that. He had a lot to mull over.
—*—*—*—*—*
Damian leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking out over the gardens behind the gala’s venue. He was glaring at nothing, and his hands trembled from where they gripped the rail. It was five minutes, a little longer than he had expected but not that odd considering everyone’s distraction over Marinette, before he heard the glass doors behind him creak open.
“Yo,” Jason greeted, knowing it was better not to catch the boy off guard. None of them were good with surprises anymore, for good reason. It was always best to announce their presence before they made someone react violently on accident. Damian’s shoulders relaxed a little— not a lot, but enough for Jason to notice. The older man sighed, walking up and leaning on the rail next to his little brother. “What’s on your mind, kid?”
“That could have been me,” he almost instantly blurted. It was still hard talking about his feelings, but certain things were easier with Todd. This was, apparently, one of them. “If Mother hadn’t kept me a secret.”
“I don’t think so,” Jason disagreed, shrugging. “There are several big differences here. For one, Marinette was born three years before you were. By the time you were born, he already had Dick and he would have only been a year, max, away from taking me in. Which means he already had built up his problem with taking in kids, and nothing would have gotten him to give up a chance at raising you. With or without Batman getting in the way.”
“But then why—” Damian growled. “Why did he give her up?”
“Because he’s an idiot,” Jason remarked bluntly. “You know how he is. He didn’t have a kid at the time. Hell, Bruce would have only been twenty-two back then. He only adopted Dick on impulse because Dick reminded him of himself, but before all of that shit? He probably made a million excuses about not being able to raise a baby and be Batman at the same time. About his life being too dangerous for a kid. Which, yes it is, but that clearly didn’t stop him later.”
“She’s older,” Damian muttered, this time softer.
“Yup.”
“Her mother wasn’t an assassin, probably. She designs. I hate to admit it, and you are never to repeat it to anybody, but her work that we’ve seen so far is impressive. She can clearly charm even the most stuck-up of gotham’s upper crust.”
“Yeah,” Jason agreed neutrally, his eyes never leaving Damian.
“Father won’t need me. He already doesn’t have much patience—” Damian was cut off by a flick to the nose. “Hey!”
“Not my fault you’re being stupid,” Jason defended himself. “Look, B’s actually been real patient with you these past few years. I mean, when was the last time he yelled at you? Or told you that stupid ‘justice not vengeance’ line?”
Damian opened his mouth, then closed it. After another moment, he replied; “Almost two years.”
Jason nodded. “It might take him way too long, but he can still learn new tricks. Especially after that mess with Heretic, he’s been trying really hard to be better to you. He still screws up, because I think we all know by now that he’s a bigger mess than any of the rest of us and that’s an accomplishment, but he’s trying. He doesn’t keep you around because he needs you. He’s got plenty of us around if all he wanted was soldiers— though none of us would stick around if we thought that’s all he wanted.”
Damian flexed his jaw. He was still the most violent of the kids, besides Jason. He saw Bruce rubbing his forehead or pinching his nose far too often at some of his decisions or comments. He was stubborn, impatient, reckless.
But hadn’t Bruce himself told him on several occasions that he wasn’t trying to make him a perfect soldier? Hadn’t Bruce himself said that he just wanted Damian to grow into himself?
It was just really hard to swat away those stupid voices in Damian’s head. Voices of the past, mostly, old dialogue he had never actually forgotten. That he merely pretended had never affected him. The “you’re too violent”s, the “that’s not how we behave, Damian”s. All the old lectures, the old fights. They echoed like stupid little gremlins of doubt.
“...Marinette has his eyes.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over something like that,” Jason’s voice was soft, but gruff at the same time as he cuffed Damian over the head. “You didn’t choose to be born, idiot. And despite being a little demon, none of us would reverse it, You’ve saved all our skins at least once. And besides,” he nudged Damian a little with a grin. “You’re not half bad, nowadays.”
Damian chuckled. “That makes one of us.”
“Hey!”
@peterxwade24 @mizzy-pop @maskedpainter @ladybug-182 @khneltea @itsmeevie01 @fusser90 @woe-is-me0 @lolieg @moonlightstar64 @jayjayspixiepop
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Humans? Up MY Beanstalk? It's More Likely Than You Think!
AO3 Link
Danny's back on her bullshit and here to make everyone suffer with another WIP that's part of a fic trade with my beloved @hiddendreamer67 <3
Summary: I mean, Jack made it all sound so easy! Climb up the beanstalk a few times, steal enough riches to last himself ten life times, and live happily ever after as a heroic giant slayer with absolutely no repercussions.
Seriously, how hard can it be?
Aiden was no stranger to life events going from bad to worse at the drop of a hat, but more often than not he was able to go with the turbulent flow just enough to keep his head above water and out of any serious trouble. Such a feat was most evident in his adaptation to living within the labyrinth-like walls of the oversized castle he had foolishly sought refuge in weeks prior. Had it been weeks? Months, perhaps, or maybe only a handful of days. The passage of time was just as foreign to him as these massive surroundings, these massive people , and he didn’t have the gall to weasel his way towards an opening near the outside to gauge how high or low the sun was sitting in the strangely pink sky.
The irony was almost funny; where was that fool hearted bravery he had been swimming in when he first started his ascension up the winding stalk that sprouted who knows how many decades ago to reach its impressive height? He knew the stories of young boys trading cows for beans and getting far more than they bargained for. He knew it was down right suicidal to scale the plant in general given he hadn’t a lick of training when it came to climbing anything other than a ladder. The opportunity to live within a legend was too good to pass up, unfortunately. The flimsy promise of riches and adventure beyond his wildest dream outweighed the need to even consider how he was going to get back down from the towering growth when he was inevitably disappointed by the lack of golden eggs.
But he didn’t succumb to the thin air or fall to his death, and he wasn’t disappointed. If anything, he was given everything he envisioned. Almost everything. When he broke through the cloud line, he discovered the vine had tapered off in favor of clinging to a cliff side he was unaware even existed from below. Green tendrils served as almost a ladder to aid his climb up the mysterious rock formation until he was able to pull himself, huffing and panting and muscles tingling from overuse, over the edge to collapse on horizontal land. So the fabled kingdom of riches didn’t actually rest on the clouds, it seemed. A small let down, but hardly anything worth dampening the mood as Aiden took in his new world view.
He felt as if he had switched places with a weevil seeing how the small patch of grass he was in came up to his chest rather than swishing against his ankles. The euphoria of this great new discovery once again drowned out the more rational side of him, favoring exploration over potential survival. The logistics of returning home could be dealt with later, after he had slayed a giant and stolen only a penny of its wealth that would no doubt provide for him for the rest of his life. Naive. Gullible. Fool hearted.
Aiden had only trekked for a few hours before nearly getting swallowed up by a winged beast he likened to a bat, washing away over the edge of the cliff in a stream, and getting trampled by hulking soldiers doing their rounds. Each close call he survived by the skin of his teeth, luck and adrenaline driving him blindly to find a moment of safety. However, with each incident his bravery withered away into trepidation, especially the closer he came to the giants that roamed the lands. None of them had noticed him yet and part of him wondered if they would ever notice something as miniature as him scurrying around, but he wasn’t feeling bold enough to stay out in the open just for their reaction. No, once he had slipped into the fortress of metal and stone, out of sight from any predator's eyes, the will to venture back out had faded into near nothingness.
If he had it his way, he doubted he would ever again have the gung ho to leave the confines of his newfound sanctuary, not even for the bittersweet desire of returning home. He had made his bed in his haste to seek glory out of tall tales and now he must lie in it. Though his heart ached with anxiety and his hands ceased to tremble, his traitorous stomach refused to let him continue a life of solitude amongst the dusty beams. A weaker part of him couldn’t help but wonder if it would be worth it to live with the gnawing pain until it eventually overtook him. A fitting end, would it not, to starve to death like a rat in the walls? Alas, he was weak, but not weak enough to endure such aggressive cramping by the end of the second day, and so he mustered all the strength and courage he could just to snatch a few stale breadcrumbs long forgotten behind what he assumed was a cast iron stove.
Aiden truly was living up to his new rodent lifestyle, wasn’t he.
It was disgusting, but it was food, and though it made him ill the remainder of the night it had at least provided him with enough energy to go back out the next night in an effort to find something an inch more sustainable. By the end of the week, his newly discovered drive to live had him exploring every corner of the expansive kitchen during the wee hours of the night, when no giants hurried back and forth between the counters and the galley to serve platters of meals that could have fed his own village for months at a time. The rich smell of hot breads and meats made him dizzy, even more so now that he was getting accustomed to surviving off of dusty scraps he found on the floor. He needed to play it safe, he reminded himself as he watched one of the chef’s throw out an entire pan of fresh loaves because there’s too many chives in this! It’s too bitter for his tastes! , hardly resisting the urge to dive into the bins after the wasted food.
But...if they were so keen as to throw away an entire batch of fully prepared food over the fact that it was unsuitable for one person’s palette...surely there was no harm in taking what would be considered a nibble. Not when it was unwanted.
There it was again, that fool hearted bravery. If only Aiden had used it to find a way out of this unofficial prisoner rather than fuel his greed. He couldn’t be happy with the bare minimum he was given, could he? Always had to push the boundaries when he knew exactly where they lied, always run headfirst towards danger and then act surprised when it would bite him in the ass moments later. At least this time around he had the forethought to formulate some type of a plan, as flimsy as it was. Having become quite familiar with the inner structures of the fortress, he was able to determine the abode he was in was something along the lines of a castle. It was certainly sprawling enough, decorated with dark colors and glittering riches and constantly bustling with workers ranging from lowly servants to chittering socialites. Whether or not this was indeed a house for royalty he was unsure, having never been able to pinpoint which of the ambling lords or ladies might be the esteemed ruler of the lands. Assuming monarchies even existed this high, that is. Perhaps this was merely the norm of their society’s standards. It was unlikely, but it wasn’t as if he had many outside resources to compare this way of life to, not even in the way of his own village.
In theory, the heist should have been easy. In theory . All he had to do was wait until the dead of night for the bustling kitchen to fall silent as it normally did and he could slip out from the crevice closest to the scraps bin. Scaling in and out of the bin might prove trickier than he anticipated, but that remained a problem for future Aiden. The most important part of his newfound mission was being able to fill his stomach up with day-old bread and cold meats before they were discarded for good. If all went well, this could easily become a nightly routine of his, a way to feast like a king whilst living like a rat within the true royalty’s walls. He knew he was getting ahead of himself with that kind of fantasizing, perhaps that was even the beginning of his downfall, but he had so little to look forward to these days that he dared to get his hopes up for a semi-decent meal.
He hadn’t even made it halfway across the counter before he was spotted and subsequently captured.
But he had been so careful , he lamented to himself when the air was roughly knocked from his lungs after a massive hand slammed on top of him, pinning any squirms. True, he reflected as the stars cleared his vision, he never actually bothered to see if the kitchen remained vacant all night given that he was asleep...but he just assumed! Who in the world would be up during this hour!? Someone else sneaking a snack, maybe, just as he was. He could use that to his advantage, try and gain a few sympathy points by connecting with the giant on that level, convince them that all he needed was just a fraction of whatever they were probably getting for themselves and he would be on his way for good. A lie, of course, but the giant didn’t need to know that.
Once more, that short lived plan would never be put to use when Aiden felt himself being lifted in the air within a bone crushing grip, metal and leather digging into him in various places from the glove the giant wore. His eyes barely adjusted from the dizzying movements and dim kitchen before they were blown open at the sight, constricted breathing still entirely for a heartbeat. This was no ordinary giant, not like the ones he had grown accustomed to glancing at from the nooks and crannies. At first glance, however, it did fit the bill for the most part -- biped, guard’s armor, a human face -- but...did these giants typically have glowing purple eyes? He couldn’t recall for certain, yet the more he looked the more he found that appeared off. The outline of the guard’s figure seemed...fuzzy, like they were blurred rather than a solid defining line. His face, harsh and scrutinizing, was greyer than a corpse. He was otherworldly, and it was at that moment Aiden was painfully reminded he was in another world, one he didn’t belong in. One he knew he would be leaving quickly.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the guard rumbled, his voice grating more like static than a growl.
“N-no…” Aiden agreed. Anything to get on his good side. “I’ll go, I’ll l-leave!”
Though he had found his voice, he had yet to find the strength to attempt any kind of struggle, not that he thought he’d be able to budge the massive fingers in the slightest. However, if he showed just how eager he was to depart from this situation, maybe the giant would believe him and grant him that small mercy. Instead, he was given another rough squeeze that made his spine pop, the fist clenching him raising higher so that he was more at eye level with his captor.
“How did you get in here, human? ” The guard spat. Good news was that humans were a known creature, at least. Bad news was that humans, apparently, were not known for any pleasant reason.
Aiden panted, trying to suck in a much needed breath after all of his were forced out. “I-I don’t know…” He squealed in discomfort when the fingers tightened again, refusing to let up until he gave a more satisfactory answer. “Th-the walls! I came through the walls! ”
The guard snorted and slackened his grip to allow an inch of breathing room, “Of course you did. Little pest that you and your kind are.”
“Wh...what are you…?” A bold question, but since he was sure it was to be one of his last, Aiden saw no reason not to ask.
He wasn’t given an answer, the giant instead lowering him slightly to exit the kitchen and pace down the halls. The scenery whizzed by so fast that it made his head spin, catching a few looks at other giants that were loitering about. Just like the guard, they were similar to the ones he would see in the daytime but...different. The two guards they passed looked to be of the same race of whatever the one holding him was, a noblewoman in a shimmering capelet eyed him suspiciously and he could have sworn her ‘capelet’ flittered before settling back down her shoulders. How had he never seen any of these attributes in the day? Then again, he often viewed the giants in the fortress at a distance and never for very long, they could have all been magically endowed for all he knew. Or, another theory, the ones he was coming across now were merely nocturnal and their more...normal housemates were sound asleep as he typically was while these creatures did their rounds and had their fun.
The wonderment was short lived when the giant shoved his way through a heavy wooden door at the very end of a lesser used corridor. With each step down the spiraling stone staircase, Aiden felt his heart sink just a little lower. The long shadows casting against the walls from the torches mounted to them gave the dank atmosphere an even more sinister vibe, leaving too many unknown things able to hide in the darkness. Even the guard, who did not appear to be an overly friendly fellow to begin with, looked twice as menacing with how the shadows concealed the few human features he did have. Aiden swallowed thickly, unsure of where they were heading but already knowing it wasn’t good.
His hunch was confirmed when the guard entered another hall, one lined with cramped cells that were partially occupied. He tried not to look at them and their fates, not wanting to see what might be awaiting him as well. Likely not, though. He was far too small to shackle and imprison. A different punishment would have to be in store for him. Further down the hall, the dungeon changed its holding cells from ones with iron bars to ones with solid steel doors instead, obscuring whatever poor bastard was locked within. Was that considered a crueler punishment? Perhaps that was where the torturing took place, if such types of creatures indulged in those acts. He saw no reason why they wouldn’t and as a result could very easily imagine himself being thrown in there next.
Fortunately, or not, the guard instead opened another wooden door that was adjacent to several of the isolated cells, coming to stand before another giant sitting at a table. Aiden couldn’t tell what was on the desk or what this new giant was using these unknown things for, but from the jist of it he must have been busy.
“Sir,” the guard holding him said while raising him higher for the presumably important one to see better. “A human has been found within the perimeter.”
The guard, a captain if Aiden were to guess, frowned. “Any others?”
“None that I could sense in the immediate area.”
He sighed and waved his hand. “We’ll do a sweep before daybreak. Who knows the amount of damage it’s done...what it’s taken, what it’s told.” He fixed Aiden with an icy glare that made the poor human try to shrink in on himself.
He wished he could have found a way to defend himself, plead his case, but his voice was nowhere to be found now. All cowardliness and no self preservation.
“And how shall I dispose of this one, sir?” The guard asked and Aiden paled. Dispose!?
The one in charge shrugged a shoulder and resumed what he was doing previously, fiddling with tools and books and papers for one reason or another. “Put it on lunch duty. Give the lizard another rat to keep him busy.”
Aiden didn’t quite follow the logic of the order. Lunch duty didn’t sound half as bad as being disposed of. The ‘lizard’ was news to him, but regardless the guard nodded at his order and left the office back down the corridor of steel doors. He wasn’t sure if he should speak up and ask for clarification while he mulled over his rather lenient sentencing, doubtful the giant would even regard him. From the looks of disgust and distrust he had been given numerous times in the short span of time he had been discovered, he could gather that his presence was an unwelcome one, though why he was still unsure. Evidently, he was going to be put to work and he could most certainly live with that. Earn his keep, he reasoned. Give rats to lizards or something. Would these rats and lizards be the same kind as the ones back on his homeworld down below or would they be to scale with the giants? Another question he should probably speak aloud before he got in over his head.
Or, at least, he would have asked, had a wad of cloth not been jammed into mouth hard enough to make his jaw click uncomfortably. He gagged, trying to shove the offending material out with his tongue, but it was packed into his cheeks too tightly to budge. A different material, a thin rope, was quickly wound around his chest to pin his arms to his sides before wrapping further down to bind his ankles. It had happened in the flash, the guard giving him no warning or reasoning for the sudden confinement, but it wasn’t as if Aiden could offer up much protest now that it was all said and done. He was completely immobile, spun up like a fly in a spider’s web. The guard had done it with such efficiency that it must be something similar to a routine for him by now which did not bode well. In a last ditch effort to save his hide from whatever...this was, he looked up at his captor with wide, pleading eyes, begging for just a shred of sympathy or at the very least an explanation of what was about to happen.
All he was met with was the same cold, violet eyes as all the other giants he had come to pass. Equally cruel and indifferent. And it was then he understood, as he was being roughly shoved through a hand slot at the base of one of the sturdy metal cell doors, that he was not the one who was meant to be delivering the meals during “lunch duty”. He was the meal. He was the rat, which meant the lizard was…
Aiden wriggled as best he could manage in his position until he was able to roll onto his back and get a good look around the cell. It was massive to him, but compared to the size of the giants he could tell it was rather cramped. Dark and depressing, much like one would expect a lonely prison cell to be, with the scattering of tiny bones and grime along the stone walls. His breathing quickened as he tried to tell just what type of origin the gnawed remains had been, however it was too difficult to tell at this distance in such gloom lighting. Perhaps that was for the best, giving his brain a little boost of reassurance that maybe they weren’t all human bones, that this wasn’t a common fate most of his kind befell when they made the same foolish mistake of invading where they clearly did not belong.
Trying to avoid the glare of bones only worsened his situation tenfold when he turned his head and was met with what was, obviously, the lizard as previously mentioned. Well, partially a lizard? More human-looking than lizard just going off a quick glance which led Aiden to believe the nickname was meant to be a derogatory term for whatever species it was. It...he? Yeah, he was kneeling on the floor, not by choice, but rather due to the shackles that bound him at the wrist and was tethered to the floor with a pitifully short chain. The clothes he wore reminded him of something he might have caught a few nobles wear given the level of craftsmanship and hand woven designs. It was a shame they were soiled now in what he could only assume was sweat and dirt, how he hoped that was dirt. The prisoner picked his head up when he heard the food slot screech open and shut, waiting for any other sound before sighing at the responding silence.
The chain jingled as he shifted to reposition himself into something a little more comfortable, Aiden now catching sight of the black nails that blended into scales littering the back of his hand when he flexed his fingers. A tail briefly flicked into view before concealing itself behind him once again. As the human let his gaze trail further up his face, fully prepared to see another hateful glare burning a hole through his weak soul, he couldn’t help but notice another spattering of black scales along his cheekbones and down his neck, presumably up to his eyes as well, but...well, he couldn’t tell. Not when there was a tattered, red cloth tied around his head, effectively blinding the sense. He wondered if this was an ailment the giant already had or if this was another part of his punishment, curious if he even had any eyes still in their sockets beneath the shoddy wrappings. Whatever the case was, the “lizard” obviously couldn’t see him and Aiden was unable to alert him to his presence with the gag shoved down his throat, leaving them at an awkward stalemate.
A stalemate that lasted all of two seconds before the giant wrinkled his nose and frowned. “The hell kind of rodent is this…? ” he muttered to himself.
So much for not knowing he was there. With great effort, Aiden twisted his body until he was able to turn on his side, trying to push himself up into a sitting position. He froze when the giant started to move as well, pointed ears twitching in response to the light scuffling he was making against the floor to pinpoint his location. Despite one of his senses being dulled, it was evident his remaining ones were still working in perfect order, maybe even heightened to compensate for the lack of vision.
“Another live one,” he sighed, fingers flexing again, “Sorry about this little buddy. I don’t like live prey any more than you like being it, I’m sure, but, well…”
That was the only warning Aiden had before the giant lunged, teeth snapping an inch in front of his frozen body. From this close, he could see the needle-thin fangs previously hidden behind a grimace and instantly wanted to be far, far away from them. His only saving grace was the short lead the other had on his cuffs, preventing him from pushing off any closer and cutting him off just shy of his prize for the time being. He growled in annoyance at having missed the offered prey, pulling back to realign himself for a better pounce.
“Come on, just make this easy for the both of us,” the giant huffed.
Oh, absolutely not. No, no, no. No, this was not how Aiden wanted his adventure in the skies to end. Fuck the adventure, he wanted to go home and he wanted to do so alive and in one piece. Being ripped to shreds was not a fate he ever envisioned for himself. He wasn’t going to die like some...some rat!
The giant was inching closer, moving along the side as much as the chain would allow to get a better angle. It didn’t matter whether he ensnared the tiny between his claws or teeth or even batted its little corpse within reaching distance with his tail, so long as he was able to get a hold on its fresh flesh one way or another. Desperately, Aiden began to rock back and forth to shimmy his body across the floor, painstakingly putting centimeters of distance between them that the giant was able to make up in a single shuffle. When the chain pulled taunt again, the human rolled to the side and narrowly missed the clamp of teeth once more, hot breath blowing against his back and covering his body in goosebumps. Undeterred, however, the giant followed his scent that was so tantalizingly close and moved his body in unison with Aiden’s. With another bite, he was able to find purchase on the ropes that burned against his arms and sunk his fangs in what he supposed was meant to be an animal's tender flesh.
Aiden had tried to avoid the attack but simply could not scramble away quick enough, his only luck being that he was just far enough that the gnashing teeth only managed to puncture through the fibers of rope rather than his actual skin. He was lifted into the air when the giant pulled back, kicking and thrashing to the best of his ability against the hold. The humid air blowing on the back of his head made him nauseous now, only able to envision how the feeling would quickly be enveloping him entirely when he was thrown back and swallowed down the creature’s gullet. With one, final twist, Aiden prayed his limited strength would be enough to somehow dislodge himself from the giant’s maw and give him another chance at playing this unbalanced game of chase.
And then the rope snapped.
Having already been sawed and frayed in several places from the giant’s fangs, Aiden’s pull was all it needed to rip apart entirely, sending the human sprawling onto the cold ground. His vision clouded when his head smacked against the stone, ironically thankful for the wad of cloth in his mouth or he most certainly would have lost a few teeth. Without a doubt, he was going to have a nasty bruise coloring the majority of his right side in the near future, the ache still pulsing with every wheezing breath he tried to gain back. While the stars faded from his eyes, he watched distantly as the giant curiously grinded the material in his mouth before dropping it. He pursed his lips in confusion, expecting raw meat and the rush of blood rather than some scratchy coils of what almost tasted like hide.
“Gods, what even is this,” he cringed.
Me , Aiden wanted to cry out, it’s me, it’s a human!
The giant’s hang up with his unusual meal faded into resignation much sooner than Aiden would have liked. He was hardly to blame, though, if he had been given nothing but live pests to blindly hunt down without the use of his full mobility for an undetermined amount of time. They were in a similar boat, really. Creatures trapped in a home they had no business being in, trying to survive on what little scraps were thrown their way. The human sorely wished he hadn’t been relegated into the scraps category, but there was little he could do about that now. Knowing his prey had a pretty straight forward drop, he moved again with an open mouth to seal the foreign creature’s fate.
The sight of teeth rushing to greet him was exactly the adrenaline rush Aiden’s body needed to get moving again, much more successfully this time now that he had arms to push up with and legs to carry him a greater distance. As much as he would have loved to have sprinted to the other side of the cell, even find another crack to slip through if fate would feel the desire to be so kind to him today, he only managed to stumble a few feet out of the immediate danger zone before tripping over himself. His right leg screamed in agony from the second fall, a sign of something being sprained somewhere he was sure. He wanted to scream out loud as well had it not been for the gag. The gag he realized he could take out now. Unsure of how useful his last words would even be, the human ripped the wad of cloth out of his mouth in a frenzy while the giant prepped himself for another attack. If anything, at least Aiden could find catharsis in leaving some sort of statement about himself behind for someone to hear, even if it was just confirmation of his fool heartedness.
“Stop!” Aiden yelled, voice raw and itching his throat like it hadn’t been used in ages rather than half an hour. “Please, stop! G-get away! ”
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting the giant to do as a result, but one thing was clear and it was that he most certainly wasn’t expecting his meal to say anything. He reeled back like he had been physically struck by those words, if his eyes were visible he was sure they would be as wide as serving platters. It was almost comical how he stumbled back, the menacing creature suddenly so fearful of a tiny vermin it was trying to consume moments prior, mouth agape as he tried to process what was going on without being able to actually see it.
“You...did you just, oh my gods,” he gasped. While he was glad he was being spared for the time being, the giant’s nervousness did little to quell the anxiety that had been brewing in Aiden’s heart since the moment he came upon this accursed land.
“Ple-please…” Aiden whimpered, suddenly drained physically and emotionally from the whole ordeal and settling to just drag himself any extra distance he could away from his unofficial death penalty. It was a pathetic display, but on the bright side, one he wouldn’t be mocked for. “Don’t h-hurt me…”
The giant shifted again, hesitant, closer , and Aiden braced himself for the final bite to end it all.
“You can talk!? ”
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justlightlysedated · 3 years
Note
Yay! I love how you write kisses! 🥰 I would like to prompt 37 and/or 38.
37. public kisses
Alex doesn't know the kind of face that he makes, but the journalist starts to press immediately, pushing a tablet into his face where there is a blown up picture taken from an odd angle, of him and Forrest from when Alex had met him for coffee so they could discuss the terms of their new tour contract.
"No," Alex says. "I'm not dating Forrest because I've been in a committed relationship for the last ten years."
And then he turns without another word, power walking through the crowd that had been gathered around him and towards the stage.
He needed to get backstage and take a breather and talk to Michael before anyone came to him asking him if he knew anything about Alex's lovelife.
He wouldn't put it past those vultures since everyone already knew that just like Rosa and Maria, Michael has been around since the beginning.
He ducks behind the line that says restricted access, waving the pass hanging from his chest at the security guard who just nods his head as Alex walks past him and up the stairs that lead up the stage.
The second he spots Michael's curly hair from across the stage, he feels the annoyance at the stupid assumptions being made disappear, leaving only the anger and a potentially bad idea simmering in the back of his head.
They're meant to be on in about half an hour, which is why the crowd gathered at the front of the stage has been getting progressively bigger, full of people with their phones already pointed at the stage.
Alex had gone to find Maria some tea, and had been waylaid by several journalists all hoping to get the scoop of the week.
Alex had no delusions about how long this story would run in some trashy website, and while he's been determined since the beginning to keep his personal life as private as he could given his occupation, he refused to be the reason that Michael was sad again. Especially when the problem was so easily fixable.
If the people wanted to speculate about Alex's lovelife, he may as well give them a show.
Michael is standing on the far side of the stage, turning Alex's guitar and making sure it was plugged in properly, tapping his headset and making adjustments on the small tablet strapped to the inside of his wrist.
Alex marches straight towards him, not taking a breather and ignoring everything and everyone else.
His boots sound loud in his ears, competing with his hammering heartbeats.
He hears the crowd beginning to cheer as they recognize him, but he also ignores that, not even waving, which was something he would've done under normal circumstances.
Michael seems to realize something is up the moment that Alex reaches him, turning around to face him, his look of confusion turning into a happy lopsided grin that hits Alex upside the head and makes him feel ridiculous fluttering in the pit of his stomach.
Alex breathes in deeply and looks at Michael seriously, "Yes or no?"
Michael's surprised, sliding into worried face, turns completely shocked.
His eyes dart from Alex to the crowd, which had a couple of groups of people clamoring for his attention, but he didn't turn to them, keeping his eyes on Michael, since this wasn't about them, not yet anyway.
When the press had started calling Alex a fake gay because he never dated anyone, publically, and then started speculating on his lovelife even more when he'd vehemently denied having one, Alex knew that it hurt Michael that he never admitted it.
But they'd talked it out because they weren't just going to throw away ten years of their lives, Alex had explained that he just wanted to keep something for himself, and Michael had told him that he understood, and they'd come up with a compromise, that Alex would reply with no comment when asked if he was dating anyone, and if there ever came a time when Alex changed his mind, that all he would need to do is ask Michael yes or no.
Michael turns back to face him and gives Alex a look, like he can't believe that Alex is a real person that exists, and nods his head.
"Yeah," he breathes, but Alex is already stepping forward and pressing their lips together and stealing the word right out of his mouth.
He settles his hand on Michael's face, and tilts his head, patting their lips and deepening the kiss.
Michael wraps his arms tightly around Alex, pressing his guitar between them, which makes a loud sound, but neither of them mind as they continue to kiss.
Alex forgets for a moment where he is, and loses himself in the kiss, feeling the stress of the day melt away, and the anger slips away like it was never there.
Michael is the one to step back, parting their mouths, and Alex keeps his eyes closed, savoring the moment, until the reality of what he just did crashes on top of him.
He can feel his phone buzzing in his pocket angrily as his twitter notifications blow up, but he also guesses that some of those messages will belong to Isobel, their PR manager.
He opens his eyes and looks into Michael's, pleased, wide eyes, and he can't find it within himself to regret what just happened.
"All good?" Michael asks, brow furrowed.
Alex smiles, and leans forward a little to press another kiss to Michael's mouth, his heart jumping in his chest when most of the crowd cheer in approval.
"Yeah," he says, moving back. "Don't forget-"
"-to leave you with the pick I tuned the guitar with, I know, I know. I'm not some just outta diapers rookie," Michael drawls, turning away from Alex to continue with his job.
Alex's smile goes even wider when he sees the blush still staining Michael's cheeks and he walks past him, letting his hand slide across Michael's back as he goes.
He waves towards the crowd then, smiling and ducks backstage right into the arms of Rosa who is laughing in delight at how mad Isobel is over his current stunt, and Maria who asks him if he's okay with wide eyes.
Alex just wraps them both up in his arms, and looks over to where Michael is still working, cheeks still flushed and just smiles.
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eeunoia · 3 years
Text
ENHYPEN Mini Series
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E N H Y P E N as Campus Heart-throbs
pairings: kim sunoo x reader
summary: what will happen when an extrovert campus social butterfly met an introvert?
word count: 6.2k
a/n: OKAY FORGIVE ME. I know it took so long for me to upload this but please try to understand me. School stressed me out and happen to ate all of my time. I’ll try to do better, enjoy! So, Sunoo’s stroy will be the most chill out of them all. Sunghoon’s story gave me a lot of stress while writing it while Sunoo’s didn’t. I enjoyed writing this one because I think they’re really cute. 🌸
tag list: @jakeysim @kpoppinandlockin @en-sun @f1iore @dilfhwa​ @rubyanne​ @enhappy​
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Kim Sunoo
Class 2 - A - “The Social Butterfly”
Being a natural born introvert, it sure is difficult for you to deal with other people. It’s not that you hate them or anything, you just simply prefer being alone than to be surrounded by a bunch of people.
You hate being the center of attention so standing in front of the class right is really uncomfortable for you. With faces very unfamiliar for you, you fiddled your fingers unconsciously.
“introduce yourself, please.” the teacher sounds nice despite the awkward situation. You gulped as you tried to roam your eyes around. The students in front of you have different expressions in their faces. Some looks interested, some looked like they don’t really care and some looked clueless.
“I’m y/n. Please, take care of me.” you even bowed after saying it.
Sunoo eyes settled at you. It’s not always that he’d been interested to other people, specially to new comers. But something in you really captured his attention.
“So everyone, let’s welcome, y/n. She’s new in our town so make sure to make her comfortable, okay?” the homeroom teacher told the whole class and they answered, ‘yes’ in unison.
You were asked to take a seat at the vacant one at the middle. Sunoo smiled and removed his backpack at the vacant seat to welcome you. On the other hand, you haven’t noticed him yet. Your head was hanging low avoiding any eye contact from everybody.
As you sat down, Sunoo have a wide smile over his lips already excited to chat with you. “Y/n, right?” he didn’t actually need to double check your name. He knew your name very well since he listened well from a while ago.
Your eyes railed over to him, “yeah.” you answered shortly then quickly looked away. You’re not really used having eye contact with other people. It makes you feel uncomfortable for some reason. But even with a short glance, you noticed how beautiful his eyes were.
“I’m Sunoo! Kim Sunoo!” he sounded so cheerful. You gave him a small nod as you fished your notebook from your bag when the teacher said she’ll start the discussion.
Sunoo pouted at your cold response but pulled off a smile back, he thought it’s normal to react that way since he’s still a stranger to you. It’s just a little odd how you just shut him off that fast. He’s used to being liked by other people right away so the way you reacted was a really different.
“Please open your text book in page 156.” your hand stopped fiddling with your pen when you realize you didn’t picked up your text books yet. Sunoo noticed your expression right away and slid his text book between the two of you.
Your eyes trailed over his textbook then to him. You blush a little seeing his smiling face beside you. You were wondering what he is smiling so brightly about? “We can share, y/n!” you blushed more when you saw how cute he looked. You cleared your throat and looked away from him blinking your eyes.
“U-Uh thanks.” you were so shy but you have no choice but to share with him. You still didn’t have your text book so you’re somehow thankful he’s nice enough to offer sharing his.
The discussion went pretty well. He didn’t really bother you all throughout the lesson, well he did tried opening up conversations from time to time but he still let you listen to the teacher. He is cute, you’re not gonna lie.
You were alone as you went towards the school cafeteria. It’s lunch break and you wanted to buy a meal because you’re already hungry. Some eyes followed you in curiosity, probably wondering who you are since you’re new. You didn’t bother looking at them because you’re used to being new to a school. This isn’t the first time you transferred to a new school.
As you silently wait for your turn to buy your food, you noticed that their cafeteria is pretty spacious. It’s perfect to handle a lot of students. Compared to your previous school, this one is much more of a good school.
“Hi, Sunoo!” you heard somebody from behind you said. You didn’t look back or anything. You’re pretty sure he isn’t the only Sunoo in the school right? This is a big school so there’s a possibility that he’s not the Sunoo who sit beside you is big, right?
You saw how some students in front of you turned their heads by hearing the name. It’s like they’re curious or something. Once they saw who it was, their eyes sparkles. Specially the girls.
“Y/n!” your head turned over to the side when you heard someone called my name.
It was your seat-mate, Kim Sunoo. He was smiling brightly at you and with an awkward smile, you greeted him. You’re not really sure what’s going on but the students around you were obviously watching. Feeling conscious, you roamed your eyes around. They were looking at the two of you with wonder in their eyes.
“Do you want to join us in our table? I’ll go save you a seat.” he sounded so excited as he said those words to you.
Some of the students near you heard his invitation and their mouth fell a bit open. Sunoo’s known for being a social butterfly, yeah. He’s nice to everybody and very approachable. But he never invites people to eat lunch with him, specially he never offer to save seat to someone! It’s beyond what he usually do.
He doesn’t know what got into him as well. All he know is that he wants to know you more. He can’t just stop being curious of you. Is it because you’re such a mysterious person or maybe because he have nothing else to do? Nah. Whatever it is, he wants to get closer to you.
“U-Uh, that’s okay. I’m just here to buy a drink because I already ate lunch.” you reasoned out. You kind of felt bad for lying to him but you don’t really have a choice. You feel like you’re in a bad situation if you agree to eat with him.
His brows furrowed in confusion, “Huh? I didn’t saw you eat here?” his lips were pursed as he waits for your answer.
“I have packed lunch.” you told him just so he can leave you alone.
You saw how his shoulder fell but he pulled off another bright smile, “You can get a drink in the vending machine so you don’t have to wait for so long.”
Your eyes trailed over to the vending machine that he’s pointing. You almost let out a curse when he said that. With a nod, you moved away from the line and went to the vending machine to buy a drink.
After buying one, Sunoo offered if he can join you but one student halt him to talk. You felt relieved because finally, you can go. Without even saying goodbye, you left the scene.
You head your way over to the garden, you’re still not very familiar with the whole campus but you saw the garden on your way to the cafeteria. As expected, there’s only a few students here. It’s lunch time so everyone’s probably having their meals.
You let out a sigh as you heard your stomach grumble in hunger. You can’t believe you will skip lunch just because you don’t want to be in that kind of situation.
Sunoo’s smiling face appeared inside your head. A small guilt flickered over you. You know he’s just being friendly and maybe really just trying to make your feel comfortable since you’re new and trying to adjust. But it's not really your personality to became so friendly to strangers easily. You don’t feel comfortable about it.
You opened the random drink that you got from the vending machine and drink it. You have no other choice. You’re really starving but can’t go back to the cafeteria to buy food. Sunoo’s probably there and what will he feel if he knew that the real reason why you lied to him is because you don't want to eat with him?
You laid your head over to the table as you tried to just sleep to forget about your hunger. Minutes passed and your stomach still ache because hunger when suddenly, somebody put something at the table.
Your head raised right away feeling surprised. You're pretty sure you’re far from other students here in the garden so you’re wondering who it was.
Your brows furrowed when you saw Sunoo in front of you. He’s holding this paper bag and he’s now taking out some food. When you two met eyes you saw how his eyes smiled together with his lips.
“It’s not good to skip lunch, specially if you have class later.” he said and gave you some chopsticks to help you eat.
“I-I...” you don’t know what to say.
To see him in front of you smiling made you blush. Is he really this nice? Can somebody be really this nice to a stranger? Well you two aren’t really a complete stranger since you basically know each other's name. But still, you both don’t know much about each other.
"You should eat.” he said chuckling and even handed you a water.
You gulped and blushed really hard. He probably think you’re so stupid for lying or probably think you’re so rude for lying just to avoid eating with him.
“Hey, y/n. Are you okay? Is it the food? You don’t like it?” now, he sounded so worried.
You quickly snapped your head up to meet his eyes. “N-No! I liked it. It’s just I feel bad for lying t-to you.” you bit your lips because you felt embarrassed because of what you did and because of stuttering.
His pout slowly turned into a smile, "Nah, it's okay! I understand. I’m sorry for putting you into that awkward situation.” he started eating his food. Yeah he brought his food here too so you two can eat together. You don’t know but that somehow made something warm spread to your system.
You gave him a small nod, don’t really know what to tell him. You thought to yourself that he’s just so nice and guilt once again took over you. 
“I figured out you still don’t feel comfortable with the people around you since you’re new. I heard you’re new to the town too.” he started the conversation. You started to aid your hunger by the food Sunoo brought for you. He smiled a little feeling relieved that you’re now eating.
“Yeah, we moved in yesterday.” as much as you’re not a fan of conversating with other people, there’s something with Sunoo just makes you comfortable. It feels like it’s safe to talk to him about anything. 
He nodded his head looking at you with amusement. You wanted to chuckle because there’s nothing to be amused about, really. And besides, he looked cute with his cheeks stuffed with food.
“I noticed you’re not really that talkative. Is it because you’re still shy or are you an introvert?” Sunoo then asked still continuing with his food. You looked at him for a while as you eat your food.
“You don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable, y/n.” he shrugged his shoulders off assuring you that it’s completely fine. You let out a sigh before drinking from the water bottle that he handed you over a while ago.
“I’m an introvert and I prefer to be by myself most of the times.” you answered.
Sunoo looked thrilled when he heard you answer. Obviously. the two of you were the complete opposite. When Sunoo loves the attention, you’re not really fond of it. 
“Why? Doesn’t it make you feel lonely?” he asked you curious. The side of your lips lifted up as you heard him ask that. That’s what people usually thought when someone preferred to be alone.
“Not because you prefer to be by yourself meaning you’re lonely.” His mouth fell open for a bit when he heard that. It sound deep and you looked serious as you said those words.
“Well, you’re right.” he even shrugged his shoulders again then continued eating.
“Do you find it hard to adjust right now since you have to move and now you have a new school?” he asked you. Now that he knew you’re an introvert, he’s actually a bit worried because he knew it will be too hard for you to adjust.
“Not really. This isn’t the first time we moved from one place to another.” you said pretty much easier than you expected you could tell it to anybody. You’re actually a bit surprised how you’re talking to Sunoo like it’s just naturally part of your everyday routine.
Sunoo looked surprised when he heard that. “You moved often? Why?” he asked you sounding so curious. To know that you’re not really new in all of this kind of makes him amused.
“My Dad’s work involve him being physically there so we moved together with him.” you tried to explain the situation in the simplest way you can. He nodded his head, looks like he understands it right away.
With a furrowed brows he once again looked at you, “You can just stay in one place tho? It’s less hassle and can help you save money too. Moving is really expensive.” he said.
You lowered your head. He have a point. It is true that moving is stressful and is very expensive. He’s right about that and the stress from adjusting to another place just adds more to the things you have to worry about.
“I can’t find a place I can feel at home anyway. When we moved to a new place, it remains like that to me. It remains new and I can’t find any reason to stay.” you don’t mean anything about you say. you just randomly voiced out what’s inside your head.
Sunoo somehow felt sad about what he just heard. He don’t know but he sort of saw the loneliness in your eyes. He knows you made it clear that you’re not lonely or anything... but something’s just telling him that you are.
He sighed heavily, making you look at him. “Do you want me to tour you around the campus later after class?” he sounded excited.
You blushed once again seeing him smiling brightly at you. Feeling a bit shy and a burden to Sunoo, you were about to say no to him when the bell suddenly rang. Thankfully, you did finish your food and thanks to Sunoo you won’t attend your classes with an empty stomach,
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You stood up now fixing your things so you can leave and go home. The classes are now finished and you’re happy you survived your first day in your new school. You thought it would be stressful but it wasn’t that bad.
“You ready, y/n?” your head snapped towards Sunoo when he approached beside you. He finished fixing his things up pretty quickly. And with a clueless expression you starred at him wondering what he’s talking about.
He playfully rolled his eyes and followed it with a chuckle. He can’t believe you forgot about the tour. Some students from your class watched the two of you interact to each other. They never saw Sunoo act so excitedly before. Yeah he’s always energetic but something in him feels different when he’s around you.
“huh?” you asked still clueless.
“I told you I’ll tour you around the campus after class.” he stated that made you remember what he said before the bell rang.
“oh...” your mind trailed over to the thought of how you can say no to him in the nicest way. Sunoo’s been nothing but nice to you so you don’t want to make him feel upset. Besides, he’s the first friend you’ve made here.
“I s-still have things to do at home so I have to be home early.” you tried making up so he can let you go. You’ve been a bother to him ever since lunch. He even bought you food that you tried to pay but he refused hardly. He told you that it’s his way of welcoming you.
He showed you a poker face, “No you don’t! Stop lying. It’s obvious that you can’t lie.” your mouth fell how he easily figured you out.
“I j-just don’t want to bother you.” finally, you admitted him.
He starred at you for a while before he sighed heavily and smiled at you. He extended his hand and messed your hair a bit.
“Nah, it’s fun spending time with you. I want to know you more so come on!” he didn’t let you say anything more but instead he started pulling your arm. You didn’t have any other choice but to go with Sunoo. Besides, it seems like it’s really gonna be fun.
He was smiling brightly as he tour you around the campus. You were right, it was a beautiful school. Before you even realize it, you were laughing comfortably with Sunoo. It’s almost like you two known each other for a long time.
“Don’t your parents ask you if you’re okay with moving or not?” he asked as he handed you the bubble tea that he just ordered for you. Inside a near cafe, you two decided to stop by and maybe take a rest before going home. Touring around tired both of you.
“They ask me of course. My parents were both nice and they don’t want me to have a hard time.” he was carefully watching you while you’re talking. Having him starring at you is surely making you conscious. So you can’t help but to blush from time to time and look away from him.
“And you always tell them that you’re okay with it?” he asked and reached out his hand over you. You stared down seeing that he’s holding a tissue for you to use. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by his small gestures, a smile unconsciously spreads through your face.
You’re actually surprised by how you’re acting right now as well. To think that you just spent almost 3 hours with a person you just met this morning is a news! You even laughed and talked comfortably with him. What kind of witch-craft is this?
“Yeah, I told you I don’t really find any reason to stay at a place.” that’s one thing that people find strange to you. You’re an introvert and don’t get along with people easily but you’re also okay with changes. You think you adapt pretty much quicker than expected.
“I hope you find a reason to stay here in our town.” he said ending it with his bright smile. You were a bit dumbfounded by what he said and you just felt your heart skipped a bit.
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Your week in your new school goes on pretty fine. Eventually, you made some friends and Sunoo remained lurking around you. He often spends time with you and sometimes, people find it odd. They think you two just became too close to each other in a fast pace.
It was just days ago that you heard that Sunoo was really popular in your school. No wonder eyes follows the two of you around. Well, that didn’t even shock you so much since you’ve clearly see how attractive and adorable he is. He’s very nice and really get along with people very well.
“y/n! Do you have an answer in our assignment in physics?” he did this cute voice as he went to his seat which is beside you. He was just outside doing club activities and now he came back.
You smirked and pulled out your notebook to hand it to him. His eyes sparkled at the sight of it and surprisingly hugged you out of excitement. Despite of being nice to everybody, Sunoo rarely makes skin-ship so what he did kind of surprised not just you, but also those students that saw what he just did.
He sat down beside you like nothing just happened and started copying your answers. With a blushing face, you heaved out a sigh and started to divert your attention away from the hug. Yeah, you two were getting close but that was the first time that he hugged you.
“You okay?” he innocently asked when he noticed that your face was tinted red. He furrowed his brows getting a bit worried for you.
“Y-yeah, it’s just hot here.” you tried reasoning out and even used your hand to fan yourself. The crease in his forehead got more deeper as he grabbed his water bottle and handed it to you.
Your eyes dropped over his cute blue water jug, “Here, drink water.” he said and your hand unconsciously get it from him. He smiled and even helped you open the cap but he started copying once again.
You gulped feeling your heart beat faster. What is he doing to you? You were completely confused to what’s happening to you. Honestly you have an answer inside your head but you’re trying to shrug it off. You’re not yet ready to admit that to yourself yet.
“Do you think it will be okay, tho?” he asked you as he placed two drinks at your table. It’s lunch time and you planned to just buy yourself a drink once you place your tray at your table but here he is, he bought two drinks already.
You pouted, blushing once again. Sunoo just takes very good care of you. He really do it to the point that your heart really warms up for him. Sunoo sometimes find it odd too because ever since he met you and became close to you, he started acting like this. Like as if he wanted to be by your side all the time. He started buying things for two people, like for example, right now, he unconsciously bought you a drink as well.
“How much?” you asked him ready to pull some bill from your wallet but he showed you his poker face before opening the drink for you then handed it to you.
“Never mind it and start eating instead.” he said seriously and you just shrugged your shoulders and followed what he said.
You two gradually get back to your normal conversations. Students greets Sunoo from time to time whenever those who knows him  (which is a lot) pass by your table. You were slowly getting used to it. Even with those glaring eyes from the girls who have feelings for him were not new to you anymore.
“Where’s Sunoo, y/n? The teachers were looking for him because this is his second day absent.” your head snapped over to one of your classmates one afternoon when she suddenly approached your table and asked that.
Your brows furrowed and shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me?” you were confused why they started looking for Sunoo at you.
She smiled apologetically at you, “Oh.. I’m sorry. I just thought you know since you two were basically very close.” she then exits herself and started walking away.
You sighed heavily and your eyes darted over the vacant chair beside you. You’re actually very worried for Sunoo. Of course, you already sent him a text but he didn’t replied to you. While biting your lower lip, you made up your mind. You’ll go check on him after class just to see if he’s doing fine.
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Feeling a bit hesitant you stood right in front of their house. He still didn’t replied or anything to you so that made you worried even more. After letting out a heavy sigh, you stretched out your hand and clicked the doorbell.
It rang and you patiently wait outside while your heart beat faster out of nervous. You were a bit startled when the gate to their house opened and a Sunoo wrapped inside a thick blanket greets you.
Suddenly your nervous was instantly replaced by worry as you saw him as this state. You advanced and quickly put the back of your hand over at his forehead.
“y/n?” he was surprised that you’re at his house.
“You have fever! Are you okay?” that was a dumb question because obviously he isn’t.
With cheeks tinted red, he held your hand and take it off from his forehead. “What are you doing here?” he asked you with furrowed brows.
You pouted kind of not used that he’s not smiling at you. n “I was worried because you’re absent and you’re not replying to my messages as well.” you told him.
His mouth fell open for a while, his hand still holding unto the hand you laid over his forehead.
“I don’t want you catching my cold.” he said trying to distance himself from you.
You smiled and Sunoo eyes settled over at your smiling face. This isn’t the first time he saw you smiling but this actually the first time he actually appreciated how beautiful you look while smiling.
“It’s okay! I don’t get sick easily.” you said trying hard to convince him.
He starred at you for a while and eventually gave in and let you go inside. He lets you go first as he closed the gate behind you. Your mouth fell open as you admire their house when you entered but your brows furrowed.
“Are you alone?” you asked wondering why the house sounded so empty.
Sunoo let himself dropped over the couch, n “My parents left for a business trip.” he said. You nodded your head and went close to him.
Sunoo gulped and sat properly as you walk closer. You leaned down and once again make your hand rest at his forehead. He’s hot. (I mean, have you seen him with a plain white polo----) 
“Did you check your temperature already?” you asked him.
His eyes pierced right at yours and even when you’re feeling weak because of it, you tried not to look away from him. “Yeah, I have a fever.”
You nodded your head at him and even fixed the blanket so it will perfectly cover him. Your gentle touch makes Sunoo blush once again. Thankfully he have a fever so you’ll think his cheeks were red because he’s not feeling well.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“I can’t cook.” of course. You sighed and tied up your hair to keep them away from your face.
“You’ll c-cook for me?” he followed behind you as you made your way over at their kitchen.
“yeah.” and you gave him a smile before checking their fridge to make him some soup.
Sunoo sat down over at one of the stool and your brows furrowed while watching him do it. “What are you doing? Go lay down!” you said walking towards him to make him go down the stool.
“I want to accompany you.” he said refusing.
“You should rest.” you told him but he pouted at you.
“I am resting.” he said while starring right at your eyes. You gulped and both of you blushed when you realized you’ve been starring for a while.
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You smiled a little starring at Sunoo’s sleeping state. He looked adorable while having his lips opened a little while asleep. His temperature went down already and he seems okay. You looked over at the blanket that was at the sofa. While looking after him, you fell asleep and he covered you with a blanket.
Now, you woke up and saw him asleep. Sunoo looked handsome always. Sometimes, you even think it’s so unfair how he can look this good even while sleeping? 
You’re glad that he’s okay now. He really made you worried because he’s not responding to you. Feeling somewhat happy because finally, you had helped him for something. He’s always been the one who takes care of you but today, the role was switched and you’re glad you had returned the favor.
Just by thinking about it, Sunoo’s been really caring for you. Doing small things that you really appreciate. He just make sure you know he’s there no matter what and you want to make him feel the same. You want to be there for him too.
Your smile suddenly faltered and faded when you realized that you have feelings for him. Mixed emotions took over your whole system. You don’t know what exactly to do right now. You’re happy and excited for this new emotion you’re experiencing but you’re also afraid as to how he will react when he knew about this.
You know he’s nice and he’s probably used to people liking him but you’re afraid it’ll make your friendship awkward. You’re afraid that he’ll start treating you differently and find it awkward hanging out with you. You don’t know if you can take that.
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As you enter the campus, some eyes were already plastered over at you. Even if you’re wondering why, you decided to just shrug it off and decided to just walk silently towards your classroom. As you get closer to your room, eyes were still eyeing you. Feeling very conscious about it, you had no choice but to lower down your head.
You let out a loud sigh when finally, you made it inside. But that’s what you thought. Your classmates eyes were starring at you as well. Feeling flustered once again, you went straight over your chair.
“y/n!” your classmate who sits in front of you turned around to face you. Unlike the other students, her stares were a lot more gentle. You felt somehow relieved. Feeling so lost because of their unusual stares.
“What’s going on? Is it just me or everyone’s looking at me?” you asked her with worried eyes. She smiled, looking a bit excited.
“How can they not stare at you? Have you seen what Sunoo posted?” she asked you giggling. Your head tilted over to the side as your brows furrowed in confusion.
“What post?” 
“He posted a picture of you sleeping in his house! Why are you at his place yesterday?” she sounded excited while you’re dumbfounded. You can’t even make up what’s she’s saying because she was busy processing things inside her head.
Huh? Picture? Of me sleeping? What is it???? You quickly grabbed your phone to check what she’s talking about. You’re eyes grew big when you saw your account with an unusual number of notifications.
As you click one of it, it leads you towards a post with lots of comments and likes. It was Sunoo’s post and your classmate was right. It was a photo of you, sleeping. 
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You blushed because of it but you tried really hard not to put so much meaning into it. Maybe he’s just really thankful for you. Yeah, y/n. Maybe that’s just it.
You tried hard to divert your attention away from the post. It was hard since your classmates were still eyeing you even when the class were already starting. They were stealing glances at you. It was frustrating and you don’t know if you should be thankful that Sunoo’s not here yet or what.
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“Yah, y/n, right?” You were taken aback when some group of girls approached you while you’re at your usual spot here in the garden. It was your vacant and to avoid the glances of your classmates, you decided to leave the room for a while to go and have some fresh air. 
With furrowed brows you stood up, “Yeah.” you answered feeling a bit nervous.
With faces looking so stern and serious, you already have a guess why they’re here confronting. It’s probably because of Sunoo, right? Of course it’s gotta be because of him.
“What exactly do you have with Sunoo?” the girl in the middle advanced towards you. Feeling intimidated and scared, you stepped backwards but the other girls went behind you cornering you.
“N-Nothing, we’re friends.” you answered stuttering because of fear.
She looked pissed at what you answered, n “Liar! Friends? I always noticed the way you look at him! You like him! Why are you at his house yesterday? You got to be that desperate huh?” she once again advances towards you and even pushed you hardly.
You tried not to fell over the ground because that would be so pathetic. You gulped trying to swallow the lump building up inside your throat. You’re really scared right now and this is the first time this is ever happen in your life.
“I’m saying the truth. And I was at his house because--” you can’t even finish your sentence when a loud slap crashed over your cheeks.
You were dumbfounded and startled by the sudden attack from her. You never experienced things like this so you don’t exactly know what to feel right now. You can’t even move out of surprise! Your cheeks were hurting so bad and you bet it’s really red now.
“Sunoo and I were completely okay and you just entered in our life? How dare you! I can’t accept this!” she was going hysterical. You were confused why she’s even acting like this. You don’t even know her.
When she was about to slap you once again, you decided to close your eyes and just wait for it to land over your cheeks in the second time but it didn’t happen.
You opened your eyes a little trying to take a peak and you saw someone in front of you. As you roam your eyes around, you saw horror in the other girl’s eyes. 
“What do you think are you doing?” it was Sunoo! You were a little confused because he doesn’t sound like Sunoo. He sounded so cold and emotionless.
“S-Sunoo!” the girl looked surprised that he’s in front of you now, protecting you from the girl who slapped you.
“Who told you that you can hurt, y/n?” he asked sternly and shoved away her hand. It was a bit strong so she backed up away from you. Her eyes started to water.
“Sunoo I like you!”
“And I told you, I don’t.” he was quick enough to response to her. It sent chills all over your spine when you heard how cruel he just rejected her. Will that happen to you as well?
“B-But--”
“I don’t want anything like this to happen again, do you hear me? Nobody’s allowed to hurt y/n or else you’ll deal with me.” he said seriously as his hand slowly took reach of yours. He softly held it before he send glares over them then turned around to face you.
His eyes slowly turned soft as he eye your red cheeks and slightly tear stained eyes. He was so worried for you and kind of feel bad that this things were happening because of him.
“Let’s get that fixed, baby.” you can’t even react at what you heard because he already started pulling you towards the clinic and away from those people.
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“Thank you.” he smiled a little to the nurse as she handed him ice. You two were left afterwards and you gulped nervously.
You both were silent as you walk there, you didn’t dare to ask what you just heard and he didn’t dare to open up the topic about it too. You thought to yourself that it would be okay to maybe just ignore it. Maybe he was just really worried that it slipped out of his mouth.
“Let me see?”  his hand feels so smooth while holding your face. His eyes were busy checking your red cheeks and his brows was hardly furrowed.
You chuckled a little and tried fixing his forehead. “Why you look so mad?” you asked like a joke to try and make him feel better.
“How can I not be mad? They hurt you.”
“She’s just misunderstanding our friendship.” you said chuckling. Sunoo pulled away as he stood straight. His eyes were now darted over you seriously.
He clenched his jaw then balled his fist. “Y/n.”
You suddenly felt chills ran down your spine as you heard him call your name. Having him call you by your name with serious face surely is different from when he calls you while smiling brightly. Suddenly, you’re nervous.
“H-huh?” you asked.
“Can I be the reason why you want to stay at this town?” he muttered and you saw how his cheeks got tinted red.
“What?” you thought you heard it wrong. Does he mean it like you think he mean it?
He sighed and starred right at your eyes, “Y/n, I have feelings for you.”
Feeling so overwhelmed and dumbfounded by what you just heard, your eyes started to watered as your heart aches. Is this really happening? You were just thinking of how you should tell him about your feelings.
“Are you serious?” 
“Do I look like I’m joking?” 
You stood up and threw yourself at him for a hug. He chuckled and felt his heart race as he burry his face over your neck inhaling your familiar scent.
“Now, you don’t have to leave anymore because I’ll be the reason for you to stay.” you pulled off the hug and leaned closer to Sunoo letting both of your noses to touch each other.
“I would love to stay.” you muttered before he leaned closer to kiss you passionately at your lips.
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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years
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recently rediscovered your blog and read the fic from your dad spy au where scout starts out as the "guard" and then becomes scout from there and lemme tell you that shit put me on some s-tier brainrot. like a cranial decay type beat.
i had a concept in my head that instead of being hired as a guard, he could have been hired as a right hand man to the administrator like pauling, because i think hed be awesome in that position. like imagine having a personal merc who can get in fast and out even faster. but maybe he would stay in the base like the rest of them, sort of like a secret on call intel gatherer, who also maybe sometimes has to dig a couple graves. and also like, nobody on the team expects anything from him at first because its this 20 year old newbie kid. hes dressed in his formal clothes and he talks like somebody from relatively around boston but not quite. i can just imagine one day he comes back during a team dinner with his shirt half untucked and stained with blood, hair disheveled as he asks soldier if he can borrow his shovel, or him debriefing them for a mission when miss pauling is busy. same vibe as the fic i mentioned before but scout gets to have a job as cool as miss paulings. honestly id write it myself if i didnt have the attention span of a fly
anyways your scout content gives me life thank you
scout teamfortress but 20% more competent standing next to miss pauling teamfortress while she's doing her job and doing like silly quips and otherwise contributing nothing like it's a buddy cop film is literally my fucking ideal
(warnings for some canon-typical violence)
-
“Oh, Pauling, it’s good to see you again,” greeted the chairman, smiling in an imitation of a grandfather and clasping her hands perhaps too-kindly considering she barely knew him. “Young as ever, and still so stylish, I see. And who’s the new fellow?”
“He’s just here to help with transport, Mr. Montgomery, nothing unusual,” Miss Pauling replied, returning his smile and adjusting her glasses. “Heavy cases, you know how it is.”
“Of course, I remember you almost toppling clean over last time we made a trade!” Montgomery agreed, frowning at the memory. “You’ll pull a muscle that way, better to be careful. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man. And your name?”
“Mr. Normandy, sir,” the new kid replied easily enough despite his slight East Coast accent, giving the man a firm handshake, expression neutral and stony, the picture of professionalism. Internally, Pauling breathed a sigh of relief.
“Firm grip there, young man,” Montgomery praised, nodding approvingly. “Tennis player, perhaps? Or golf?”
“Baseball, sir,” he replied, still evenly. “First baseman.”
“Ah! Of course! Were you any good?” Montgomery joked.
“At everything but playing in front of the crowds, otherwise I’d be in the major leagues,” he replied, tilting his head just slightly to imply that he was joking, his sunglasses glinting at the movement, and Montgomery barked a laugh.
“I like this one, Miss Pauling!” Montgomery said, and Pauling just barely caught herself from physically relaxing at it.
“We do too, Mr. Montgomery,” she agreed. “I was under the impression that you’re very busy today, so we won’t keep you for too long, we just wanted to sort out the final details surrounding the manufacturing rights for the—“
“—Pacific Northwest branch, up into British Columbia and Alberta, of course,” Montgomery agreed, nodding faintly. “Of course, of course.” He turned to regard his own man in a dark suit, the one standing to the right, who appeared to be unsuccessfully trying to stare down Normandy, who was completely ignoring him. “My briefcase, please.”
The man handed over the briefcase, and Montgomery put it on his desk, opening it and pulling out a sheaf of papers. “All our requests are submitted and approved, at this point we just had a few dustbins to take care of regarding initial percentages and making sure everything is wired to the correct accounts, which names are undisclosed, things like that,” Pauling explained as he glanced through the papers.
“Right, right, everything looks good here,” the man murmured, nodding to himself, sending his long-white hair just ever-so-slightly out of place. “I’m assuming these more sensitive documents should be sent some way besides through the mail?”
“If you finish them today I can take them with me, otherwise either me or Mr. Normandy can return to pick them up at your convenience,” she replied, to which Normandy gave a singular nod.
“Oh, it would only take me a short while,” Montgomery said, waving a hand. “We have a lovely lounge just down the hall from here if you’d prefer to wait there, it should only take me ten, fifteen minutes at most. In the meantime, I do believe there’s also the manner of payment for services rendered.”
Miss Pauling tilted her head just slightly to one side, confused.
“I arranged with Helen already,” Montgomery explained, not looking up from where he was initialing a few things. “The payment, rather than being wired, she asked to be made in material investment. A venture of mine from years ago that she’s willing to sit on. Rather than gold or bonds, she agreed to take some old currency of mine that my family collected, from early 18th century New Zealand and Australia. Monetarily it’s worth around the same, and I’m quite a bit attached to it to be entirely frank, but it was at her request to buy the whole collection from me, and after years of the work we’ve been doing together, well, I’d never trust it with anyone else.”
He gestured to the other man, the one on his left, who stepped forward to hand him a manila envelope, which he passed to Pauling.
“Inside is both keys, the door alarm codes, and all other security information for the building where the collection is being stored. They’ll ask for a few codes and confirmation of identity, only because several other art collections and artifacts are being stored there by other affluent individuals such as myself.”
“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling said, taking the envelope gratefully.
“Think nothing of it, my dear. Helen talked me into it all her own,” he said easily enough. “Now, gentlemen, if you would let Miss Pauling and Mr. Normandy into our lounge? I should have these wrapped up before any of us can even think about lunch, eh?”
One of the suits showed the two of them through the doors and down the hallway, through two doors bracketed by similar suits who simply nodded politely at Pauling and ticked their chins at Normandy as they passed them.
Normandy posted up beside the door for all of three seconds before they shut and Pauling pulled her glasses up, rubbing at the bridge of her nose and making a vaguely distressed noise. He then promptly relaxed, instead leaning his hip against an armchair probably worth the same amount as a small car. “So, uh, we’re glad that he’s giving us a bunch of commemorative coins from when dinosaurs still walked the earth?” he asked just below normal speaking volume, eyebrows raised.
“Yes. Very glad. Because unlike about six people total on the planet, he hasn’t figured out yet how valuable those are.”
“What, is a picture of a kangaroo on some copper really gonna make up for a couple hundred thousand American dollars?” Normandy asked, sounding doubtful.
“Not copper. Something else,” she replied. “I can’t tell you much more about it other than that, but these coins are made of something priceless to us. And to the Administrator.”
“…Love? Memories? The magic of family?” he joked, cracking a smile, and she rolled her eyes, moving to open the envelope and start reading the papers inside. “Hey, uh, not to question whether my job should exist, but what the hell am I doing here, exactly? Besides carrying a briefcase. Like, chivalry isn’t dead but I really don’t think you need me carrying your bags and holding the door for you.”
“You’re helping with security, basically,” she replied, adjusting her glasses to squint at tiny handwriting about the collection. “Mr. Montgomery is trustworthy, but he mostly hires out to… well, people like us. His security detail is mostly people we’d rather have screened, freelancers, stuff like that. A lot of people we contract out to are like that. Most of them have heard about me and know better than to try and pull something, since I can hold my own pretty well, but if they haven’t, seeing a second person might persuade them to think it over again.”
“Oh, so I’m like, uh, when it says ‘tow zone’ next to the no parking signs even though nobody checks, or when they’ve got a camera in the corner of the store that isn’t even plugged into anything,” he said, and the looked up at him, confused. “Like, uh, what’s the word… I’m a casual deterrent.”
“Sure,” she said, because it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, shuffling the papers back away and closing the envelope again, making a note to ask the Administrator if she should change their current containment procedures to be closer to Mr. Montgomery’s. “Just… if there’s a fight, you deal with it, otherwise you just stand there and look like you’re paying attention.”
“That’s what the sunglasses are for,” he agreed. “I was blinking morse code at the guy across from me literally the whole time.”
“You know morse code?” Pauling asked, surprised.
“Just the alphabet, ‘S.O.S.’, and ‘ass’.”
She rolled her eyes again, and that’s when the door opened.
She expected Mr. Montgomery, not one of the men in suits. “Excuse me, both of you, if you don’t mind,”the man said, accent having the slightest English tilt to it, a Londoner if Pauling had to guess. “You’re Miss Pauling, the Mann Co. affiliate, yes?”
“That’s me,” she agreed, hesitant, and glanced at Normandy.
“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. Mr. Montgomery have you the wrong envelope on accident,” the man said apologetically, extending a hand forward. “We apologize for this unfortunate mix-up, it’s really quite embarrassing, but those documents are sensitive and we’ll be needing to see them back now.”
Pauling looked at him, and within a moment, shifted her expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she agreed, nodding. “No, right, of course. These aren’t the papers for the currency collection?”
“I’m afraid not,” the Brit agreed, head tilting just slightly, hand still extended, moving a fraction further forward.
“Well, thank goodness we figured out now and not with us halfway back,” she joked, and moved to hold the folder closer to her body. “I’ll take this right back to Mr. Montgomery, then.”
“He’s sent me to correct the error,” the man explained simply.
“Right,” she said, and saw in her periphery that Normandy had already started sneaking a hand in towards his primary, clearly having pieced together something she was only suspecting. “We can bring this to his office, then, right down the hall.”
“You misunderstand,” the man said, taking a step forward again. “I’ll be taking it to his office myself.”
“That’s funny,” Pauling said. “I didn’t realize you had clearance to be in there. Or to be carrying a semi-automatic instead of a standard handgun.”
The Brit reached for the semi-automatic, and before he could even get it out properly, Normandy hit one clean shot to the side of his head and another to his thigh, sending him crumpling to the ground.
Pauling had only as far as pulling her own handgun free, thumb on the safety, and breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at Normandy, shifting to more comfortably hold her gun. “Quick reflexes,” she noted.
“Just noticed a lot sooner, maybe,” he shrugged, stepping forward to glance over the body, tucking his gun back away.
“What was your hint?”
“He’s here to give us the right folder, yeah? Well, why were his hands empty, then?”
She was just starting to nod and realize that as well when a second man shouldered through the door, holding a gun at the ready. Normandy scrambled to draw his own, but Pauling fired a shot into his knee, shoulder, and neck to send him dropping before he was even close. “There’s quick on the draw, and then there’s prepared,” she said pointedly. “Gotta think of if there’s more than one, new guy.”
He nodded, and drew his gun again, bending to hit the guy on the ground at the temple hard enough to knock him out if he wasn’t unconscious already. He then glanced up at the sound of a shout from the other side of the door, two men shouldering through, guns drawn but lowered. It was only the firm eye contact they made with both her and Normandy that made her pause the millisecond it took to realize these ones weren’t trying to kill them.
“Pauling, what on earth is going on here?!” Montgomery demanded, entering the room and staring with wide eyes at the bodies on the ground. “What could’ve possessed you to—“
“He was trying to run off with these documents,” she explained quickly, gesturing with the envelope. “He knew whatever was in here was valuable.”
“He drew his gun, sir,” Normandy added, tipping his head down towards the body, and Pauling glanced down as well and found herself a little surprised. He’d rearranged the man just slightly, apparently, adjusting the arm to be holding the gun a bit further outward. “Other one was aiming to kill.”
“My, my,” Montgomery tsk’d, shaking his head as he surveyed the scene. “What a mess. My apologies, Miss Pauling, Mr. Normandy.”
“It’s alright, but you need to start doing more thorough checks on your staff, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling stressed.
“He’s only been here two weeks, sir, he was one of the men we hired in a hurry after the incident last month,” one of the bodyguards said, and Montgomery shook his head.
“Thank goodness nobody was hurt,” he sighed. “Mutiny, and besides that, they’re bleeding on my carpet. Here are those papers, Miss Pauling—what a day, eh?”
“It’s really alright, we handled it,” Pauling assured him, giving her bravest smile, a little exasperated now.
“Right, right, you and the first baseman,” he agreed, and Normandy fought back an actual smile.
“If you’d like, we can take care of those for you,” Pauling said, gesturing at the bodies. “To pay you back for the carpet and the scare.”
“Sounds fair to me,” Montgomery agreed, clearly relieved.
-
“My dad’s gonna be pissed, by the way,” Normandy was so helpful as to say on the way back up the path to the base. “And you’re fielding that.”
“About the suit, or the fight?” she asked, glancing at his clothes where he was somewhat covered in a fine dusting of mud and grime from the gravedigging, shovel still in his free hand.
“Both. Mostly the fight. Your fault for saying it’d be an easy one to start with,” he said.
“If it was going to be that much of a problem, you wouldn’t have gotten this job. I’d just have made you go do dishes all day or something,” Pauling replied.
“Point taken,” he said, walking ahead to get the door, holding it open for her. “Wait, we’re allowed to mention what we do, right? Just not names?”
“Or locations, even with travel distance. Round up to the hour if it comes up,” she replied.
“Sure, sure,” he agreed, trailing a step behind her as she led the way through the base.
In the common area, there was a bit of a ruckus happening. Soldier, Heavy, and Demo appeared to be having some kind of arm wrestling competition on a rapidly-toppling table, the Engineer was on a stepstool trying to fix the ceiling fan, and Sniper appeared to be half-watching the beginnings of an argument between Pyro and the Spy regarding use of the oven as Medic patched up a burn on his arm.
“Hullo,” Sniper greeted the two of them, sounding a little bored, Medic giving them a brief, polite nod. Normandy’s eyebrows were raised pretty far as he surveyed the room.
“Hi, Sniper,” she greeted in return, then cleared her throat, raised her voice. “Team meeting in five minutes! New mission for next week!”
Groans from the room at large, the eight mercenaries starting to finish up what they were doing and filing out. Spy moved over, glancing over Normandy and starting to talk to him in rapid-fire French, picking smaller bits of gravel off of his suit as they walked.
“Alright,” she addressed the room, Normandy peeling off from getting mother hen’d by Spy to stand next to the blackboard with her. “Monday, you’re all going on a transport mission. Getting the truck from point A to point B with everything in the boxes intact. Already we’ve had to put up with some people trying to get ahold of these things, so bring your guns.”
“Oh, our guns, you said? Lads, this is a serious one, keep your heads on a feckin' swivel, she’s sayin’ we might even need guns, can you believe it?” Demo faux-gasped, and chuckled when Spy bopped him on the arm, rolling his eyes at the Scot's theatrics.
“Yeah, yeah,” she waved off, flipping through the papers a bit. “So Engie, I’ll need the keys to the truck, me and Normandy are going to be loading those tomorrow, all of you need to be at this drop point bright and early.”
“How early?” Heavy rumbled.
“Six. Hour and a half of drive from here.”
Some complaints from the room that she sighed at.
“Hey, hey, calm the hell down,” Normandy cut in, and she glanced over at him where he had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. “You chuckleheads get to have all eight of you to unload the damn thing, me and Miss P gotta do all the rest of this on our own and probably kill twenty guys on the way there and back. She had to be up at 6 AM, workin’ since 7 AM, lunch break at noon and nothin’ else, and we just got back now at, what, fuckin’, 10, 11 PM? Any of you work her shift and then see if you even got the energy to complain about wakin’ up early, how about that?”
The room went utterly devoid of complaint or backsass. “Thank you, Normandy,” she said politely, and he just nodded once, glancing off to the side. “Anyways, anything new on this end? Spy, how are you adjusting?”
“Very well,” he said simply. “I have nothing pressing to say. Once I’ve been updated from the stock weaponry provided here to my requested preferred weaponry, I believe I should do just fine.”
“I see you already have Herr Normandy digging graves,” Medic chimed in. “Straight into the hard labor, ja?”
“Eh, hey, y’know, it’s why they keep us young people around,” he shrugged, grinning, and there was a brief uproar to drown out Medic’s entirely offended scoffing and Spy’s snort-laughing.
“Get ‘im, lad!” Demo cheered, and Normandy indeed looked fairly proud of himself.
“Monday, transport mission,” Pauling noted over the noise, writing it up on the chalkboard to hide her own smile from the room. “Normandy, you and me are doing the boxes tomorrow. Everyone on the same page? Good. Dismissed. Oh, and Pyro—stop taking the fire alarms down when they beep. They’re beeping because you light things on fire in the base. Do that outside.”
“Oh, hey, uh, helmet guy, All-American Beef,” Normandy called, and Soldier straightened up. “Here’s your shovel back. Gettin’ my own tomorrow.”

Soldier walked directly over to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a high honor, Cadet,” he said, tone grave. “Do not take this responsibility lightly.”
“I, uh, I won’t?” he said hesitantly, and blinked a few times as the shovel was carefully taken from him before it was promptly marched from the room in double-time. Only then did Normandy look over at her. “So he’s always like that?”
“You’ll get used to it,” she assured, dusting chalk from her hands. “You should get to sleep soon, we have to be up early.”
“Sure thing, Miss P.”
101 notes · View notes
thekillingjoke-haha · 3 years
Text
Angel With A Shotgun
Summary: The Novak family was big talk,but not nearly as famous as the L/n’s. Togther they can be unstoppable,so what say family ties like guns,drugs,money,and murder?
Paring: Michael!Dean x Male!Reader
1900's Mafia/Gangsters AU
A/N: this is a Micheal fic,but its him in Dean's body so like...idk its the same snake different skin. Also Chuck is referred as Charles
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Warning:Blood,guns,knives,gore,torture,swearing. Homophobic comments like just a few. No proof reading
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The Novak's that a family that was one of the most feared yet respected. The way people talk about them down south you'd think they were inspiration for the Bible itself. A man by Charles or Chuck Novak is the head honcho with five sons to help him run is kingdom.
The youngest is Castiel he was probably the nicest of all his siblings,but also the most protected with three other brothers, Gabriel is the definition of trouble and if he slipped up head could easily get lynched good thing he puts that silver tongue to work. Raphael was one of the more head strong,but sadly he was shot when several rivals attacked at on of their bars. Lucifer is the second oldest and the most hot headed with a temper to match the black sheep in his family if you will, then last,but not least Michael he was something else entirely the play boy,a demon is a flat cap and tailored suit.Now that the Novak's have been introduced the world's most feared gang the L/n's is one family not to be fucked with.
(Father's name) leading his kingdom no...empire with his wife (Mother's name) and togther they had only two sons. The second born William and the oldest M/n. William wasn't much involved with the criminal side of the business,but his big brother was the prime example of a gangster. No one besides the L/n gang has seen him he stays out of newspaper coverage and that only allows his terror to run ramped. A man with no face and a title of Satan himself made the oldest Novak just a little timid when he found out. "WHAT THE HELL!!!" Michael threw the newspaper on his fathers desk in anger the older man looked up after glancing at the paper. "I'm due to be wed to a L/n and none the less a man! I can be hanged for so much as saying I do and it IN THE FUCKING BULLETIN!!!" He was seething with hatred in every word. Michael will admit it hurt a lot finding out he was to be wed by the slight disgust look he got while grabbing the paper before getting coffee. "I wanted to tell you sooner,but you were handling something. There's no way out of this a deal was made before you were born me and (Father's name) have been waiting for his wife to bare a girl or your mother to do the same,but your mother's untimely passing and (Mother's name) having gone unfertial our oldest are due to wed." Chuck sighed taking off his thin wired glasses.
"You two were once friends,but I guess time got rid of those memories." Chuck sat down his spectacles down looking at his son. Michael turned to father with shock evident in his eyes. He was friends with M/n L/n the man with no face. Everything was too foggy. The shorter male stood up to a shelf in the office and grabbed a small match box opening it looking around before pulling out a picture. Handing it over to his son he sat back down. "He was one of the only people you'd go to when you were a baby. Heavens he was probably the only person you liked,but when he was five and you were three the fact that our business was centered around blood and there's on bonds it became a fight,mafia versus a gang, and you guys saw eachother less and less till around the time Luci was born not at all." Chuck sighed. The young man was in shock a little boy maybe two or three was cuddled up to a baby in a pale blanket that he remembered was blue fully awake and if the picture could come to life he's sure the boy was humming all while rubbing the infants back.
"No ones seen a picture of him in twenty six years and he was on his fathers hip with a match box car. He's in town and should be coming for dinner here by himself in three days time. So til then keep your brothers in check we don't need them to shoot the young man with a stray bullet." With that Charles dismissed his eldest son as the green eyed boy stormed off in a huff. Michael started to do digging. M/n L/n was in headlines weekly in every post known to man from shootings,assassination,and gangbanding to rumors of his love-life,what he wears,and people claiming to have met him. One thing caught his eye that made him falter. "Gangsters M/n L/n Captures Murderer" that when he started reading the full paper that crumbled a bit due to age. Maybe he's not so bad the guy he caught never saw a courtroom,but met a far worse end all because he caused problems with his people. It was admirable the brunette knew he'd do the same,but not just for anybody. Marriage wasn't settling well with him that didn't mean it felt completely wrong.
One day later
Looking in the mirror Michael watched as his maid adjusted his tie while another smoothed the wrinking in his white button up and vest of his three piece suit. As the oldest he had business to handle people to keep in line. When their hands left his body they scurried out of the room rushing to be down stairs before him. His dress shoes met the floor as he grew closer to the door his youngest sibling ran up next to him. "Can I come,please!" His raven head of hair and doe blue eyes almost made him cave,but with a firm look he gazed down at him. "Sorry little raven,but I have things to handle another time." The pout on Castiel lip didn't move as he held up his hand his pinky out. "Promise?" Interlocking with the ten year olds pinky. "Promise." With that he happily skipped away to play in the garden.
Out the door he went. His flat came on his head and coat thrown over his shoulder his effects tucked in his waistband. Screams caused him to smile as he stood before the butcher on payroll. He wore the man's leather apron having abandoned his tailored suit jacket in the front of the deil. "Were is my money?" He cut the man some more as he continued to scream in pain the white fire from the rusted meat hook in his shoulder flaring with each jerked motion. "Help please!" He yelled all of a sudden in the past hour he hasn't called for assistance. "No can do." A deep voice said behind the oldest Novak turning around sharply his green eyes clashed with e/c. The man looked like anyone off the street his shoes tattered and clothing dirty form labor no bet. "I came for my five notes." The didn't seem fazed at the torture. "Fuck you gypsy scum!!" The pig of a man responded as the tall s/c man crept closer gripping a knife Michael was using. "I just unloaded a load of meat in the summer heat that would give the devil a sweat and all I asked for my effort was five notes nothing more nor less so cough of the money that you clearly owe both of us or I'll carve it out of you and make you squeal like the piggy bank you are." His tone dropped further the blade under the man's fat chin and the Novak felt aroused at the threat. This guy meant every word when the hanging man spat in his face the off color of snuff and blood made the normally clear liquid seen and thick. Let's just say Michael sat back crossing his legs in a attempt to compose himself as the man hit pitches not even the girls in the church choir could master. The heavy weight man forked over the money then some I got my full and he ended up giving the mystery man a hundred notes if he made the pain stop after pocketing the money he shot the man.
He turned around and began to leave when the brunette stopped him. "Wait! I give you my thanks friend he was stubborn for a hour almost" The h/c man turned looking at him giving a smile tilting his head for the Novak to follow as he stepped out the deli. Scrambling he walked down the street next to the man their attire clashing a well tailored suit next to rags that looked more like a potato sack then cloth. "Glad I could help a fine looking fella like yourself." His flirtatious grin caused butterflies to run ramped in Michael's guts. As they walked down the street they slowly moved from the good side of the town to the slums. No cars drove on the gravel a fire hydrine spat out water for all the children playing around it,women hung up clothes on wire between tenements and men looked more like the mysterious gypsy next to the Novak. Speaking of the mystery man he went to each crowded tenements door and knocked the women or young men of the families came to the door and he handed over twenty notes each. The women cried and clung to his tall figure and the boys almost men looked at him in wonder like a hero before running off to tell the adults of the place. "Why did you do that?" Michael asked as they walked out of the town. "You worked for that money and gave it all away." He was confused he's never seen a man work for a family that wasn't his own.
"They need it more. Schools out the children don't get meals and the men work hard to feed them at least a meal a day. I'm alone here no lover or children with the energy and muscle to work." Novak wasn't sure before,but he was sure now this was love and it felt better then any harlot he could spend the night with. "Thats very admirable of you." Michael complmented which was not a normal accuracy. "It was truly nothing to admire,handsome. I'm not saying I'm amazing,but sometimes I'm decently above average. That's what people need someone decent enough go care."
Before he knew it they were back on his side of town and getting closer to the business. "It's been a pleasure,Mr. Novak." The man dripped his head as he turned to leave somewhere. "You know who I am and I don't even get a name." He turned back around and got closer to him his chest pushed up against his till he was pinned to the wall he leaned down his lips so close to his face just out of reach. "I'm N/n,but you can call me the man of your dreams." Michael almost leaned up to peak his lips when the warm body pulled away taking with it the lust filled tension. N/n turned and left out of sight that night was full of the man tossing and turning dreaming of the e/c man that made him feel high as the clouds above. N/n smiled as his men drank around him he finally saw his baby boy all grown up and he's taking what's his this time.
Two days later=Six Hours Before Family Dinner
The buzz of the New Yorker coming to Kansas was the rage. Any man that was new in town was watched like a hawk by commoners and the Novak's. Michael was no longer looking forward to this marriage he didn't want this man no matter who he was. N/n stole his heart like a petty thief and ran away from him. No one in Kansas knew who he was a s/c skinned,h/c haired,e/c eyed gypsy was all he had to go on no last name just a image that burned bright in his mind. Michael sighed as he left his office and went down to the bank he needed enough cash on hand to throw away on booze and maybe angel dust. People parted for him like the red sea and he easily got money when gun shots went off. The teller in front of him fell to the ground wounds ridding his body and Novak turned to see men...no boys with guns.
"Everyone get down on the ground. We've come only for the money we won't hesitate for blood as well." The group chuckled as the leader smirked people shook as they easied to the ground all except Michael who stood tall. "Ah! If it isn't Michael Novak no men to protect you now." A man he didn't realize came behind him hit him over the head with his gun causing him to fall to his knees. "Pathetic." The band of thugs leader grabbed the Mafia bosses chin looking and the blood coming from his brow. Someone stood from on their knees a flat cap covering their hair and a long trench coat that was only slightly open. "It would be in your best interest to leave,boys." They all train their guns at the man. "Why's that,you motherless bastered?" The man turned his gaze upward deadly sharp e/c orbs looked at him and Michael was in shock it was N/n. "Cause I have twelve guns ready to blow holes in you and your men." After his words ten men stood up all wearing the same clothing flat caps,overcoats,and suspenders with a Tommy on every man except the leader. The cowardly man looked frightened looking around keeping his gun on the s/c man. "I only count ten I still have the upper hand." N/n gave a devilish smile that made Michelle gaze on love struck and excited for what's to come. His gray trench coat hit the floor and two sawed-off shotguns in each hand. "Upper hand you say?" He pulled both triggers the left one killing the man sending himself flying back and the right killing the man behind Michael blowing his brains painting the tan walls this made the others fire as well. The bodies of the criminals and one civilian litter the floor.
N/n sent the men off to get the people out as he walked up to the bleeding Novak. "Thank you." His green eyes gleamed making the standing man give a grin as he held his hand out to help him up. "Consider it a gift from M/n L/n." The gleam disappeared from his eyes his soon to be husband was in town has been in town and set his men up to keep him safe. "Now if I'm not mistaken you have a dinner to get ready for,pretty boy." He takes the handkerchief out of his waist coat dabbing the blood away. "Will you be there?" Michael voice sounded weak so full of hope. "You can count on it. We'll be seeing eachother alot more." The man stood up and quickly left and not a moment later Mafia men came in running tending to the boss. Looking longingly at the piece of cloth (Your Initials) were sowed into the reddend white square of fabric.
Family Dinner was about to start the Novak's sat at the table Charles sitting at the end his three eldest sons to his right while his youngest sat to the left two spots were available one across from Michael and the other on the opposite end of Charles. A maid came in the dinning hall and cleared her throat. "The L/n's are here." Two young men came through the door one taller then the other the shorter of the two sat across from Michael while the other sat at the other end of the table closest to Michael and the other man. Charles smiled at them both and Michael was in a state of shock. "M/n been a long while hasn't it?" The oldest Novak looked at the man infront of him waiting for a response when the man he thought to be just a gangster working under the L/n's answered. "That it has Chuck. Sorry father couldn't come he had some other business to handle." N/n or M/n now to Michael's knowledge said before placing a hand on the man beside him. "This is Benjamin or Benny my right hand man don't mind him." The man gave a nod of acknowledgment his blue eyes piercing. "Heard about the blood bath at the bank quite impressive from what Michael has told me." A side smile and a teasing look was turned the mentioned Novak's way. "Saw low life scum trying to rob the place and touching what's mine,their little toys they call guns were child's play compared to my men." M/n sent a wink addressing the men hitting Michael from behind.
"Are you a knight that saves people?" The youngest asked his blue eyes wide in wonder. The s/c males eyes turned to the child a warm smile gracing his lips. "Sometimes when I want to be." A bubbly giggle rang out. "You saved Mikey making him your prince." Those words caused different reactions from all the men. Gabe covered his mouth trying not to laugh at his older brother,Lucifer grinned leaning over to his brother. "Did he have to kiss you sleeping beauty?" He chuckled lowly making kissing noises in his ear,Micheal was beet red as he couldn't bear to face any of them,Chuck smiled looking at his son and son-in-law,Benny nudged his boss sliding something to him while everyone was distracted. "Yeah and I'm gonna make him my king and take him to my castle." M/n leaned towards the boy and whispered in his ear. "We'll ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after." Castiel was gobsmacked as he gazed at his brother all giddy he was gonna live a fairy tale like in all the books their mother use to read. "Um if you'll excess me. I need some air." Micheal stood up and not long after M/n followed when given a reassuring nod from Charles.
The garden of the estate was beautiful in the moonlight and it wasn't hard to spot the oldest Novak on a bench on looking the pond that reflected the night sky. "You knew the whole time who I was." Micheal didn't look up at the man as he sighed. "Yes I knew who you were...we were once closer then the stars and the skies itself." The L/n sat next to him on the bench looking forward. "Chuck knew as well." Michelle turned in shock at that statement a goose chase for nothing. "He didn't know what I looked like now,but letters everyday asking about you seemed to do the trick." Those e/c eyes turned to look into those apple green ones. "Learning from a young age that in you grasp was the person you were due to wed was shocking I almost hated you,but the moment you grabbed my finger as if I'd slip away made me realize it can't be so bad." M/n held out his hand palm up so the younger male rested his hand in his grasp. "I was afraid at first you'd hate me. So I swore to protect you always. Some of my men live here with their families and they keep me posted. Just last year a rat was found on you door step admitting his faults."
Micheal remembered that the maids came rushing to get the family and a man bloody and beaten spilled his guts about planning to cross the family having been hired by a rival Mafia to get information to attack them at a weak state. "I know this won't mean munch to you know,but maybe at some point you'll be happy to carry my last name and call yourself my husband." In M/n hand that wasn't interlocked with Micheal's he opened a box revealing two wedding bands both were silver while one had a gold trim and the other had a f/c trim. "No matter what,Novak,I'll be there when yiu need me through it all most of the times guns blazing." M/n chuckled lightly taking in a deep breath. "Just ponder on it,pretty boy,I'llbe here waiting." as he slipped the ring on the silent man's finger before doing the same with himself he gently kissed the top of his head as he stood up and left wanting to give him space. Micheal smiled at the ring that perfectly fit his finger. The one man he felt attracted to was his guardian angel always there no matter what.
Lifting his hand up he kissed the metal band as a laugh left his lips. "My angel with a shotgun."
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A/n: Second Male reader and I had to spell check for almost 50 she/her in her so I think I got them all lol.
@spnquotebingo
Quote: "I'm not saying I'm amazing,but I'm decently above average."-Blacklist @spnquotebingo
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paisley-print · 3 years
Text
Near The Water’s Edge:   Chapter Four
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After fleeing your abusive husband, you find yourself in the small coastal town of July, North Carolina. Soon you meet Frankie Morales, Air Force Veteran and single dad. As the two of you grow closer, you begin to let go of your past and learn to love again. That is until a strange man shows up in town, and you ’re forced to choose between your safety or the safety of the people that you love.
Inspired by the novel “Safe Haven” written by Nicolas Sparks.
Series Master List
Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: 18+ / Heavy adult themes eventual smut. Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Mentions of death, PTSD, anxiety, mentions of police case, police.  Word Count: 
Note: Another heavy chapter, but things will let lighter as the chapters go on. Enjoy the first half of the beach day. 
Tag List:@qytyy @winter-fox-queen​​​​ @sherala007​​​​@inkededucatednnerdy @quica-quica-quica​​​ @hnt-escape​​​ @giizhkens-cedar​​​@heythere-mel​​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​​
The ride passed in comfortable silence, the three of you listening to the radio and Lucy looking out the window at the cars in the next lane. All Frankie could think about was how nice it was to have someone else there to spend the day. He knew Lucy must have been feeling the same way, since he hadn’t seen her so excited about a beach trip in a long while. 
He appreciated how patient you were with her; it was something he noticed even on that first day. The way you refused help until you knew she was alright. That moment had stuck with him more than anything else. 
The memory of what Will said earlier surfaced in his mind. He shifted in his seat and glanced at you. Yes, you were beautiful. Strikingly so. A woman who could walk into a room and turn every head in the place; both men and women alike. Of course Frankie had been taken with you. He tried to suppress it, scolding himself whenever he was alone in bed at night and found his thoughts wandering.... 
His only goal right now was to be your friend because he cared for you and knew that you needed help. He wasn’t sure what kind of help, but he sensed that you were alone and at some point in your life something very bad had happened to you. He wouldn’t pry though, he would wait until you were ready to share. 
-
The beach wasn’t too packed; it was still early in the season and  the tourists hadn’t moved into their summer homes yet. The boys had done an oddly efficient job at setting everything up. When Ben and Will got into a little spat about how to sink the umbrella into the sand , Frankie simply rolled his eyes and continued to spray Lucy with sunblock. It made you laugh, they all seemed so comfortable with one another. 
The day was hot and everybody seemed eager to get into the water, everyone except you and Frankie.  You had bought a bathing suit at the store, intending on going in... but somewhere during the car ride you changed your mind. 
“You can go in if you want,” you told Frankie “I don’t mind just watching.”
He shrugged, “I don’t normally go in either.”
Then just like that the two of you were suddenly alone, both woefully unprepared for any sort of conversation.
You thought of something quickly, filling the silence “the marina was packed today.”
“Yeah, It’s always like that on memorial day. Most of the summer too, be prepared for the restaurant to start getting busy.”
“I prefer it that way. It makes the shifts go faster. So I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly do you do? I assumed you owned the marina?”
He paused for a moment. “Uh, technically I do. It was a wedding gift from my parents. An uncle had died and left it to them. I think they just wanted to get rid of it, but I have an office manager that does all the upfront stuff….. normally I just work on repairs.”
Married. That wasn’t what you were expecting, but still no ring. “Did you go to school for that?”
“Kind of. I had training for planes, but you would be surprised just how similar the two are.” You gave him a look. He glanced at you and laughed sheepishly. “What?”
“I’m sorry, did you say planes?”
“Yeah”
“You fix planes?”
He smiled and crossed his arms, trying to seem much cooler than he actually was. “I fly them too.”
“You fly pl-....do you take constructive criticism?”
He laughed, “Of course.”
“Lead with that next time.”
He looked at you skeptically. “How am I supposed to lead with that, exactly?”
“You say, hi my name is pilot Frankie …..” 
He shook his head, grinning. “Morales,” he informed you. 
“Hi my name is pilot Frankie Morales, nice to meet you.”
He played along, “but how will I know if people actually like me for me, or they just want me to take them for a ride in a plane?”
You shrugged “it's tough being a celebrity, I don’t make the rules.”
“Oh yeah, celebrity, that’s me,” he said sarcastically. 
You kicked at the sand with your foot. “Also I liked you before I knew you had the coolest hobby in the world. So, you know that you can trust me.”
He glanced over at you and immediately noticed your smile. He had seen you smile before, but they would never quite reach your eyes. This one, he could tell, was real. He opened his mouth to speak when, in the distance, a wave crashed and Lucy squealed with laughter. Both of you turned your heads to look.
“Will Lucy be okay out there?” you asked. She had on a life vest and was being supervised in the shallows by the rest of the adults. Santi was holding onto a boogie board Lucy used to keep herself up. 
“Yeah, I know they seem like idiots but they are good men.” Frankie reached into the cooler to grab a bee and popped the cap off with the bottle opener. “Do you want one?”
You shook your head, “No thank you, but I’ll take a water bottle if you have it.” He set his beer down in his cup holder and reached into the cooler again. The bottle was freezing cold when he handed it to you. Perfect for a sunny day.
You wiped the condensation off on your dress. “Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, taking a sip of beer. 
“Lucy’s mom is she….? Are you two still….? I don’t mean to pry, I guess I’m just a little confused.”
“You and I both,” he said with a sigh. “I’m married but we are not together anymore, haven’t been for a few years.”
“Oh,” you said simply, not finding any clarification in what he told you. If anything, you had more questions, but you didn’t want to push. Besides, it didn’t matter anyway…. you couldn’t, you were married as well. “Does your family live in the area?”
“Nope, they live up north. Katie never really knew her family. She grew up in the foster system and was bounced around until she enlisted at eighteen. It’s just me and Lulu now, and the guys when they find the time to travel here.”
“I’m sorry,” you said honestly. “It must be hard not having your parents support.”
He shook his head and took another sip. “I expected it, even when I was younger, it seemed as though they were only interested in keeping me alive.” He looked down and started to peel off the sticker on the bottle as he spoke. “They are both doctors, mom is an archaeologist and dad an engineer. He actually helped design parts of the international space station…. I think they valued their careers more than anything else... they still do. The only time they ever came down to see Lucy was right after she was born, aside from that it’s usually a phone call on a holiday and a card with money in the mail.”
Although he tried to play it off as if it were just another part of life, you could see that it still affected him deeply. For a moment you thought about reaching out to take his hand, but you stopped yourself. “It really is their loss, they are missing out on two wonderful people.”
Frankie adjusted the baseball cap on his head, a sheepish little smile playing on his lips at the compliment. “Well, thank you. Lucy and I could say the same thing about you. You’re great with her.”
You glanced back at the little girl. She was smiling happily as Ben pulled her along on the boogie board. “I think little girls need to be protected, but not only that - they need to be seen and heard. She is already so independent and fierce. I can see how you encourage her to be her own person and not fit into any one mold. That’s important for little girls to learn.”
He laughed, “Yeah, she definitely gives me a run for my money, that's for sure. She can already repair an engine better than most men I know.”
A large gust of wind came through and took hold of the multi-colored beach ball beside you. Both you and Frankie sprang from your seats to race after it. The thing was fast, and you could not stop it from crashing into the waves. You noticed just how much cooler it was near the water’s edge. Although the temperature outside was sweltering, the Atlantic still held that winter chill. Both of you stared at the ball as it bobbed up and down with the tide. 
Frankie waved it away with his hand and squinted in the sunlight. “It’s fine, it’ll probably just float down the beach to another family or something.”
You smirked at him “or choke a poor dimwitted sea turtle to death.”
He paused and shot you a pretend glare, then took off his hat, dropped it in the sand and reached for his shirt. 
You giggled “no, no I’m joking. I got it.” You said, starting to strip down to your bathing suit also.
“Well, you gotta be faster than that,” he said, half jogging to the water.
You slipped off your dress easily and ran straight past him into the waves. Frankie was not far behind. You two were pushing against the tide as you reached for the ball. Fingertips just barely brushed against the plastic before it slipped a couple more inches away. This left just enough time for Frankie to swoop in and grab it.
Your stomach hurt from laughing so hard “hey!”
He shrugged, “I’m sorry that I care more about the environment than you.”
You splashed him with water playfully.
-
The two of you swam for another fifteen minutes, chatting about the town and volleying the ball back and forth. Frankie pretended not to see the way the droplets of water clung to your skin and sparkled under the sunlight. When he noticed the little lace pattern on the bottom of your swimsuit, he knew he had been staring for too long and forced himself to look away. The very last thing he wanted to do was scare you away, or make you believe he had some sort of ulterior motives to helping you. 
You both dressed again before walking back up to the chairs. When the two of you returned, the group had already come back from swimming. They were passing around Tupperware full of fruit while Santi was starting up the tiny little grill he had brought. 
“You guys really don’t play around for beach days,” you mentioned to Frankie. 
“I tried to warn you,” he said with a smirk. 
Will had Lucy thrown over his shoulder, carrying her easily with one arm. “Has anyone seen Fry?”
“I’m right here!” Lucy’s little voice drifted out from behind him.
Will started turning, pretending to look for her “Fry! Fry! Where are you!”
Lucy was hardly able to speak through her fit of giggles, “I’m behind you!”
He put her down on the sand, pretending as if he had seen her for the first time. “Jesus Fry! You scared me!”
“Lulu,” Frankie said, “come here so I can put more sunscreen on you.” Frankie took the bottle from the bag and sprayed her again, making sure to get her ears and the tops of her feet as well. He sprayed some in his hands, and Lucy scrunched up her nose as he applied it to her face.
Watching the two of them together made you smile. You were reminded again just how different Frankie was from your husband. David would have felt emasculated by having to take care of a child. If he had attended today, you would be sitting beside him silently the entire time, only getting up to fetch him a beer.
“Do you want some?” Frankie asked, and you were suddenly snapped right back to reality.  
Even though you weren’t threatened by a burn yet, you figured it would be a good idea. “Yeah, thank you.” You offered him your arms, then the front of your legs.
“I used to be terrible with remembering sunblock until I got sun poisoning in Iraq, god never again.”
“Iraq?” you asked, and turned so he could get the backs of your legs.
“Yeah, with the air force” he told you, assuming you already knew. 
Breath hitched in your throat as he brushed your hair over your shoulder. You cringed at the feeling of the warm sunscreen hitting the back of your neck and jerked away. It was enough for the others to notice. You laughed and lied quickly “damn horse flies hurt when they bite. They say you should wash off the bite with soap to get it to stop the swelling. Is there a bathroom here?”
You sounded believable. Becoming an expert liar had been the only thing keeping you alive for so long. 
Frankie felt horrible. He didn’t quite know what he had done to trigger you, but he knew it was something. “It’s pretty far, I can walk with you-”
You shook your head, a wide smile still plastered across your lips. “Nope, I just need a direction.”
Santi jumped in quickly. “That building when we first came in, near the tennis courts.”
You nodded and started forward, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. Why was this happening right now? You were fine a moment ago and now you felt as though you couldn’t catch your breath. You shivered, remembering the feeling again and putting your hand on the back of your neck to stop it.
A soldier…. it made sense. You were too stupid to have seen it, the nicknames and the holiday...... 
Thankfully, they were single stall restrooms; you pulled the door shut and locked it behind you. The bottom of the floor was disgusting and filled with wet sand. You lifted yourself up onto the counter and sat, trying to calm down. A soldier, a soldier, you kept repeating to yourself. It was too similar. The anger, the potential for violence…. just like your husband. 
You placed your head in your hands, and suddenly you were back in New Jersey. It was a bitter February, snow still on the ground. You were in your bathroom hiding as David raged in the living room and screamed at his coworker on the phone. A little boy had been killed by his father weeks ago. David was assigned to the case. When the trial came, the jury found the man innocent and let him walk free, even though all the evidence pointed to him as the killer. It was an embarrassment to David and the entire homicide unit
“God fucking dammit, y/n! y/n!”
You pulled yourself up on shaking legs, straightened your dress and walked out. David was red in the face waiting for you. “I thought I told you to call Comcast, did I not?”
“They said that they could get someone out here Wednesday because of the snow-”
He took the television remote and threw it at you as hard as he could; he aimed for your face but it hit your shoulder instead. The plastic connected straight with your collarbone. You doubled over in pain, holding it as it throbbed. He stalked up to you and you moved back, the fear evident in your eyes.
His voice was teetering on the edge of lunacy as he screamed at you.
“I give you a simple fucking job to do and you can’t even get it done. You’re a lazy fat fucking bitch.” he shoved you hard but you manged to keep standing. “Spend all day sitting on your fucking ass while I have to go to work for the both of us! I need the television because I need to see the news coverage of the fucking case! You knew this! Or would you like me to get fired and the both of us live on the fucking streets!” He shoved you again, and you fell against the stone fireplace. Your hands came up to shield your face as he picked up the remote and hit you with it repeatedly. It caught your lip, busting it open. 
You didn’t care about the blood, all you could think about was the gun still holstered in his belt. You got the television fixed the next day-
“Summer?” 
You stood quickly and wiped away the tears from your cheeks, pretending like nothing was wrong. “Yeah?”
“Are you alright?” 
It was Frankie. 
You shook your head and smiled in the dingy plastic mirror in front of you. “Yeah, why?”
He could hear that you had been crying. He pushed on the door but it was locked. 
You didn’t like that at all; you slipped off the counter and sat on the floor, against the door. Bracing it closed with your body “I’m fine-”
“You’re crying-”
“No, I’m not I- I get allergies and that horsefly hurt. I am such a baby I’ve always had a low pain tolerance-”
“If it’s something that I did -”
“Nope, it’s nothing that you did. I’m fine, I’m really, really fine I promise. I just got overwhelmed and needed some air. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you guys can eat without me. Don’t let me hold you up.”
Frankie wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to force anything. “Would you like me to save you a plate?”
“Yes, please.”
You could hear his footsteps start to retreat and relaxed a little. 
“Summer?”
“Yeah?”
Frankie was about to say something, but he thought better of it. He figured it was better to let you have your space now.
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cazimagines · 3 years
Text
Born to be wild - Chapter 2
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Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?
Word count: 2.3k
Author’s note: I'm going to be focusing on this series for a bit and not writing any one-shots for a little while so expect these updates to come out sooner, plus I'd also like to thank my awesome beta reader for helping edit this 😊
Warnings: Swearing
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Born to be wild masterlist
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The sunset and rose again in what felt like only a few hours for you. The quick passing of time could be attributed to the adrenalin of qualifying, in which you had managed to drive your way to 5th place. Shock rippled through everyone due to this. Not only it is your first F1 qualifying but due to you being a female, you were already exceeding their expectations. It meant everyone was buzzing with curiosity and excitement to see what you might bring to the actual race today.
You were as excited as you were yesterday arriving at the track, but before you could explore the now swarmed with people area, your boss was already waiting for you and with a quick jolt of his head, informed you to get into the garage for debriefing. Arriving you were told, though you were placed 5th the team would still be focusing on Patrick as a priority due to him being the more experienced driver between the two. You’re told about the predicted weather conditions for today, what tires they recommended you to put on the car and mostly which other drivers to watch out for.
After meeting all of the drivers for the proper first time yesterday, already you had quite a good idea of which ones you should watch out for, and as you left the garage to get a quick breath of fresh air, your eyes landed on the one man who made your lips curl down into a sneer. Certainly, a man to watch out for.
Niki Lauda’s team were on the opposite side and he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his own frown plastered onto his face. His eyes were fixated on how his team was adding adjustments to his car, and every few seconds he was barking more orders at them for what they should be checking. Displeasure curled up within your chest as you watched how he treated his team with disrespect. He was acting as if he knew more than them when they were doing their job. For a second, as if sensing your eyes upon him, his face snapped over to look at you. Those dark, cocoa eyes felt like he was staring into your soul and due to the uncomfortable feeling that settled within you, making you blush, you quickly looked away.
Sure the man might look charming, even with his overbite. His curled hair complimented his face and the overbite made his cheekbones stick out more in a way that would make you want to run your fingers along them. But for all the niceties of his face, his jackass personality dashed any ideas you might have had about him otherwise. To you, he seemed like an entitled brat and the more time you got to spend away from him, the better.
Unsurprisingly, James Hunt came first in qualifying however a few other drivers came second and third leaving Niki in fourth, right in front of you. This meant in the first few minutes of the race, when everyone was tightly packed together trying to overtake one and other, you would be right beside him. From your first impression of him, you had no doubt if given the chance he wouldn’t hesitate to push you off the track to ensure his space, and the thought of that made you more determined to try and overtake him in this race.
Leaving the garage, you headed into the press tent expecting to be greeted by a few journalists wanting to interview you, but instead, as soon as you took your first step inside you were swarmed with cameras pointing at you. The questions each of them asked you however all followed a similar pattern, they wanted to know everything about what it was like being the first female driver, how you felt racing against all these men, but they also wanted to know how you achieved 5th place in your first time racing for F1 as if you hadn’t been racing for the past few years in F3.
Thankfully Patrick who was finishing up his interview with two journalists spotted your face hidden among the swarm of reporters. He chuckled to himself at your plight before finally deciding to push his way through the crowd to grasp your arm.
“Y/n has answered enough questions, for now, any more you can ask after the race,” he tells them and while they grumbled they slowly moved away to interview a few others. Still holding your arm Patrick pulled you back to your garage into a more private quarter where you wouldn’t be harassed.
“The press can be dicks at times, you’ll learn to get away from them in time,” he mutters to you as he guides you through the busy garage.
“I’m fearful they’ll always be obsessed with me for being the first F1 driver.”
Patrick finally stops pulling you along and tilts his head back and forth in contemplation, “Perhaps for the first year or so, but they’ll move on to something else eventually.”
It was only a few minutes later when you and Patrick were informed it was time to head onto the track to get into your cars. The walk there was nerve-wracking, seeing all these other drivers approaching their cars but you, preparing for the race because it was so normal to them now but you reminded yourself that you were the same as them. You were just as good as them and you had every right to be there, like them and in time you would be as used to it as well.
Your team was there to pass you your helmet, help you into the car and to wish you good luck. Finally sitting down within it, placing your hand upon the steering wheel you felt a sudden surge of power wash over you. This was it. This was your time to prove to everyone who ever doubted you, that they were wrong. At that moment, you had never felt more at home.
“Good luck out on the road today.” a British voice chimes in, and looking to your side you see James Hunt walking past you to his car, giving you a smile and a wave. You nodded your head back to him and gave a slight motion of your hand to tell him thanks.
Niki stormed past you as well, though unlike James made no acknowledgement of your existence. Rather he was paying meticulous attention to what James was doing, making sure his crew fitted his car with the exact same wheels James chose to have. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
The first thing everyone had to do was warm up their tires which involved you driving around the track once in order so that when the actual race started, the tires wouldn’t wear down too quickly. After this, however, it was the waiting that almost killed you. Waiting for that flag to wave to tell you to go.
The beginning of the race was always the most important part. Everyone was cooped together and therefore could easily overtake each other. If you made one mistake that could be it for you, or it could be the making of you. Most crashes in which people died always happened at the start of the race. You had watched so many times on TV how a car hit another and went spiralling into the crash barrier, catching alight. It’s the reason why your parents were so determined for you not to drive, for you might not come back to them alive. But it was a risk you were willing to take to live your dream.
Your hands clutched the steering wheel in anticipation, fingers drumming on the underside of it, a sweat bead rolled down the side of your head as you watched the flag bearer with such strong precision. He held up the flag, and with the ring of a whistle, he started to wave it.
Instantly your foot was on the accelerator, rushing forward in time with everyone else. You maintained your position, preventing anyone from being able to overtake you to take 5th place but now that meant you had to focus on trying to get ahead of the car before you. Niki was only a few inches ahead of you but he kept swerving, preventing you from being able to find a path to get past him. However, you were coming up to your first curve in the track and if Niki went on the underside you might be able to accelerate enough on the outer side of the track to attempt to get past him. It was risky but it was a shot you were willing to take.
As you predicted Niki went to go on the underside, trying to save time to catch up to his next opponent, so you sped up going on the outer ring. It meant you had to go wider but as you accelerated further you were able to come up side to side by Niki.
It was a tight squeeze, both of you heading around the corner at the same time. You could see the glare he shot at you as you came up beside him, a fire within the deepest pits of his eyes and yet as you drew nearer for one horrifying second shared between the both of you in which your eyes flashed with panic, it looked as if your front wheel might bump into him.
Niki, in realising this, quickly slammed on his accelerator as you pulled back using your breaks. He shot forward, back onto the straight road now that you were both past the corner but it left you in his dust, cursing at yourself.
The rest of the race went smoothly, for you at least. You were able to push yourself up to fourth place but Niki has long since overtaken that person as well and was now racing behind James in their little competition to try and get first. Still, the fact that you got fourth place in your first race was a celebration unto itself and so when you crossed the finish line and pulled into your team’s pit all the crew were out there cheering you on.
As soon as you jumped out of the car they were running over to hug you, slap you on the back and congratulate you on getting fourth and you could help but join into the excitement, jumping up and down and cheering along with them. Even when Patrick pulled up he congratulated you, giving you a pat on the back and flashing one of his signature kind smiles, making you feel elated.
There was only one thing that could dampen your mood, one person and of course he would appear. You heard the annoying, callous Austrian voice call out to you and instantly you had to suppress a groan as you turned around to face the man.
“You nearly hit me earlier!”
Niki was charging towards you, his body tensed as he pulled his helmet off, handing it to one of his crew and scowled towards you. His hair was slick and wet with sweat and he still wore his tracksuit showing as soon as he got out of his car he had chosen to find you out, obviously seeking an argument for earlier.
“But I didn’t!”
It almost seemed as if he wouldn’t stop walking towards you for a second. He came to stand so close in front of your face you could smell the sweat reeking off him, “It’s stupid manoeuvres like that kill people!”
“We were fine! I made sure we had lots of space.”
“Two inches!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t realise you were measuring it with a bloody ruler!”
Niki crosses his arms, his lips curled as his nose flared and you’d swear even his breathing suddenly sounded louder. “If I hadn’t taken the quick decision to speed up, potentially damaging my engine we both could have been dead.”
You scoff, amazed he thought he was the one who prevented it, “Of course you would take the credit. If I hadn’t chosen to slow down, letting you pull out again and costing me a place we might have crashed.”
It was Niki’s turn to scoff now as he looked away and then his dark eyes turned to glare at you again. His teeth bared as he prepared to refute you but before he got a chance James had noticed the commotion between the two of you and jogged over.
“Congratulations y/n on getting 4th place! That’s great for your first race,” he then turned on his foot to smile sarcastically at Niki, “Congratulations Niki on almost getting first place.”
“Perhaps if she hadn’t almost run me off course I might have beaten you,” Niki argues, his harsh glare instantly snapping back to you.
“Don’t use her as an excuse for your own idiotic driving. If she had run you off course she would have done the rest of us a world of favour.”
Niki rested his hands upon his hips again and ran his tongue over his lips before spitting out at James, “Fuck you.”
He starts to storm away as James shouted back to him, “No thanks!”
A chuckle came from James’ throat as he turned around to look back at you. “I need to head off to the podium in a few minutes to accept my trophy, but I wanted to come by and invite you to my winning party. Everyone will be there, well apart from Niki of course.”
“No Niki? Sounds like my kind of party then,” you reply, shaking his hand in congrats to him. As soon as he had arrived he left and you turned to look at Niki’s fading figure one last time before heading back to your garage. The less your saw of that asshole the better.
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condorclaw · 3 years
Text
Waiting.
It's what Sam Nook was the best at.
The large mechanical creeper spent his days standing outside the towering structure of the Big Innit Hotel, keeping watch for potential customers, or potential troublemakers.
"Don't you ever get tired of standing here?" Jack Manifold had asked one day after a hostile confrontation between the two employees.
The answer was always no. Sam Nook never got tired of guarding the hotel. The task was never as boring as his peers made it seem. In fact, it was an exciting experience.
Sam Nook had been downloaded with the basic information of every server member, learning their names, heights, and basic personality traits with ease. However, the simple information couldn't compare to all he had noticed while speaking with them himself.
They all had their own stories to tell, and their own experiences to share. While standing guard, sometimes somebody would stop to speak with Sam Nook. Regardless if it was out of pity or for a genuine conversation, Sam Nook appreciated the gesture.
Captain Puffy would tell Sam Nook tales of her adventures, going into great detail when describing the scenery. It gave Sam Nook a thirst of adventure, making him feel like he was actually experiencing the harsh waves of the sea or the burning rays of the sun.
Eret regaled Sam Nook with history stories of their home. They would especially emphasize the horrible bits, including their traitorous actions as a leading cause for so much pain. Sam Nook could tell Eret still felt guilt after all this time, so as soon as Eret would finish their stories, Sam Nook offered the king a hug, which was gladly accepted.
Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have as many stories to share about the past, preferring to discuss what was happening in current moments. It was how Sam Nook became so fine-tuned to the social dynamic occurring, able to recognize specific actions relating to specific causes.
Even Sam himself would stop by frequently, checking up on his creation and making sure that Sam Nook was at tip-top shape. Sam Nook appreciated these check-ups, wanting to perform at his very best for his tasks. As Sam would make adjustments, he would tell Sam Nook small things about his life, and revealed quite a bit that he kept hidden to his other friends. Sam Nook swore to never tell anybody else unless Sam gave him permission. It was the least he could do for his creator.
Even though he was surrounded by such a colorful cast of characters, Sam Nook always looked forward to one in particular:
The big man himself, TommyInnit.
Tommy was loud and brash. He was young, yet experienced with conflict and war, masking it behind crude jokes and fragile confidence.
According to most others, Tommy was annoying and often unwanted. He was the source of problems and too impulsive for his own good. Sam Nook had occasionally heard mutterings of people wanting to ignore him or just shut him away somewhere. To an outsider, it sounded like Tommy was just some rabid stray animal who couldn't be caught.
But Tommy was more than that, and Sam Nook could see it firsthand. Tommy was passionate, loving to show off his accomplishments to his friends and being proud that he was the one able to do them. He took pride in the little things, and would frequently hype himself up when requested to perform tasks. Sam Nook was surprised at how quickly Tommy was able to get hotel materials, the boy being quite passionate to finish the build.
Outside of hotel work, the two had nice conversations. Tommy would curl up at Sam Nook's side, watching the stars in the sky and venting about his feelings. Tommy would always deny it whenever Sam Nook would bring his words up after that point, but it did warm Sam Nook's circuits to know how much Tommy trusted him to tell the robot these things in the first place.
After all, Sam Nook was built to be Tommy's guardian, and he took pride in that.
So Sam Nook was fine to wait.
--
Waiting.
It was a lovely day, with animals gathering in groups to scrounge for food. The sun was shining as bright as ever, and the few clouds in the sky twisted into funny shapes.
Sam Nook activated his cameras, taking a couple shots of the gorgeous scenery. He mentally stashed the photos away in a specific directory, one meant for Tommy.
Ever since Tommy had become trapped in Pandora's Vault, Sam Nook found himself recording his surroundings every minute of every day. Tommy was missing so much being trapped in a gloomy place, so Sam Nook was determined to show him everything he missed.
As Sam Nook stashed away his last photo, he heard the faint sound of arguing. Turning his head 90° to the left, Sam Nook spotted Jack Manifold speaking to Tubbo, the two deep in some sort of conflict. Ranboo was towering over the two, but remained quiet, listening. The enderman spotted Sam Nook gazing in their direction, giving a nervous wave and a shrug of confusion. Sam Nook returned the wave before shifting his head back forward.
It felt like there was a lot more aggression since Tommy was gone. Normally the kid was so blunt that it made it hard to argue against him. He wasn't always right, but he could end conversations quickly when they weren't worth having.
The heated discussion only got worse as minutes stretched on, Sam Nook catching bits of it, but remained still. It was only the final shout of "FINE!" that caused Sam Nook to look over once more.
Jack Manifold passed in front of Sam Nook, his teeth clenched and his eyes narrowed as he made his way to the entrance of the hotel.
"WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HAVE HERE, JACK MANIFOLD." Sam Nook questioned as the hotel cats started gathering by the robot's feet.
"Relax," Jack Manifold snarled, rolling his eyes. "I'm just doing a bit of redecorating. If Tommy doesn't like that, then he can tell me himself." Before Sam Nook could formulate a response, Jack Manifold had gone up the ladders in a hurry.
Sam Nook let out a huff of steam, focusing his attention on some of the cats that wandered around the hotel. Jack Manifold wasn't a good employee. He was only focused on keeping the hotel to himself, which didn't belong to him. It belonged to TommyInnit, as much as Jack Manifold tried to deny that.
Thankfully, Tommy was scheduled to be released in a few days. The news had initially made Sam Nook upset when Sam had told him, but Sam Nook immediately cheered up at the thought of Sam being with Tommy. Sam liked Tommy a lot, Tommy wouldn't be alone!
So Sam Nook was fine to wait.
--
Waiting.
It was a stormy day, rain pouring down from the sky, almost as if the clouds were crying. Sam Nook didn't understand why it had to be such a gloomy day. After all, Tommy's first days out of prison should be happy!
Sam Nook hadn't seen Tommy once since the boy was scheduled for release, but that didn't worry him. Tommy was probably very busy reconnecting with all his friends. Eventually he'd come see Sam Nook.
The sound of Sam Nook's own shuttering cameras snapped the robot out of the slight daze he was in. The image was lovely, with red and white flowers spread all along the grass at the side of the path. Sam Nook didn't understand where these flowers were coming from, but they were very beautiful. He could only imagine Tommy's reaction to the gorgeous plants. Tommy would pretend to hate it at first, but would later go and water them all himself.
Out of the darkness of the rain, Sam Nook saw Ranboo and Jack Manifold emerge from one of the buildings. The two didn't appear to be engaging in conversation, and appeared rather sad. They continued walking until they stopped at the gates to the Big Innit Hotel, Jack Manifold opening them slowly.
Ranboo gave a slow wave to Sam Nook, who gave one in return. Ranboo had changed over the last few days. His normally colored eyes were slightly duller, and in his jacket pocket, a purple flower peaked out. Sometimes the enderman's hand would go to it, lighting stroking the flower's petals as if it were a pet.
Sam Nook was very curious about it, but there was still time to ask Ranboo about it in the future.
The more urgent concern was Jack Manifold, who was approaching the front of the hotel. Sam let out a few clicks, shifting his trident in his hands threateningly. Jack Manifold had been vandalizing the hotel lately, and Sam Nook wouldn't allow him to do it again.
Despite all the other times Sam Nook had threatened him however, Jack Manifold looked up at Sam Nook, looking weaker than ever. His eyes were glazed over too, and his form was drenched with rain. When he spoke, his words were soft. "Sorry, Sam Nook. I broke something yesterday. I'm just here to fix it."
In shock, Sam Nook didn't even reply to Jack Manifold as he climbed up the ladders. Jack Manifold was a liar sometimes, but that there had been the honest truth. It didn't make sense. Why now?
"Sam Nook."
The robot turned quickly, coming face-to-face with his creator. Sam's green had paled, and his armor no longer looked as shiny as it once had. It worried Sam Nook too, but Sam knew what he was doing. He could take care of it easily.
"HELLO, AWESAMDUDE. WELCOME TO THE BIG INNIT HOTEL."
Sam flinched at the hotel's title, perplexing Sam Nook even more. Did he not like the name? He was the one who chose it, though.
"Don't you get tired, standing here?" Sam asked softly, his voice hoarse. "What if Tommy-"
"I COULD NEVER GET TIRED OF MY JOB, AWESAMDUDE. IT IS A GREAT PLEASURE TO WORK ALONGSIDE TOMMYINNIT AT HIS AMAZING HOTEL. WHEN TOMMY COMES BACK, HE WILL BE VERY HAPPY."
Sam shut his eyes, his fists clenched at his side as if he was in pain. There was silence between the two for a couple of seconds.
"Yeah," Sam croaked out, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "He'll be very happy with this. Thank you, Sam Nook."
Sam Nook had never felt happier. Tommy would be very happy with his hotel, and together they could beat out the competition! Sam was right!
"THANK YOU, AWESAMDUDE. PREPARE FOR THE BIG INNIT HOTEL TO RULE THIS SERVER."
Sam nodded slowly, his mouth open, with only short puffs of breath coming out. Exhaling, he looked up, gave a polite bow to Sam Nook, and departed. Jack Manifold left shortly after Sam as well, only giving a quick farewell to the robot.
The sky may have looked like it was crying, but that didn't change Sam Nook's mood. The sky was crying out of joy, surely! The server couldn't wait for TommyInnit to return to his hotel, and neither could Sam Nook.
So Sam Nook was fine to wait. 
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