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faeriekit · 1 month

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Health and Hybrids (XX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... A LOT of readers google what an "ostomy bag" is! Danny reestablishes his comfort with the Arabic numeral system!

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

The next time Diana comes to visit her charge, her gloves are blue. Her scrubs are a pale pink. She is given a new face mask, and a new hair net, and walks through the double doors without needing to be buzzed in.

Alright. Perhaps the boy is not genuinely “her charge”. Still, he is hers to protect and to keep; although her position is, officially, as security to the medical team working with their young patient, the medical team knows as well as she does that the boy does not genuinely intend harm.

Is he prone to outbursts? Perhaps, but very few of them are powered. It is entirely understandable too, according to the mental health professionals on board the Watchtower: trauma affects how well one comports oneself and how one interprets their environment. They may see things, hear things, or misunderstand things, and believe they are under threat. The circumstance makes for a great deal of residual fear and mistrust.

Diana was once raised amongst communities of women with few untouched by battle fatigue. She recognizes the signs of lost time and of reawoken fear. She understands what battle-weary warriors are truly fighting against.

A doctor and a nurse mumble a greeting as Diana passes by them. “Morning, Wonder Woman.”

“Good evening,” Diana returns, eyes crinkling. One nurse visibly glances out the window—and then smiles, sheepishly, having forgotten their location in space. Time zones on the Watchtower are often…flexible; Diana, however, has only just returned from her day job. “How is the patient?”

A doctor jerks their head towards the monitor. It is only ever left on if no one else is in the room; privacy is key to recovery. The active monitor means that the medical team has left him alone for now. “Take a look. You might have to go kid wrangling again, Ma’am.”

Alright. Diana obliges them.

On the monitor, in little stick-figure form, are three figures, all sitting or crowded around the room’s singular bed. Her patient sits in his little white gown, legs still as ever, as Impulse drapes himself across the bedspread, and Robin (ex-Robin? Third Robin? Doesn’t he have a new name now?) stands at the bedside.

The Speedster wiggles, mouthing out words she can’t hear without a microphone. Robin is focused on something in his hand—a tablet, perhaps? If Impulse is chattering into the air, then Robin is short on answers; her charge, in comparison, looks back and forth between them, likely unable to understand what the two are up to.

Diana’s mask catches her sigh. “Busy, are they?”

“Do you think you can hold the red one down long enough for a refresher on proper PPE usage?” the doctor begs. The question appears to be genuine. “They just zoomed in a little bit ago. We’ve been trying not to disturb them, but without masks and gloves…”

…Her charge was still at risk for possible contamination or infection, as they couldn’t get consistently accurate test results on his immune system. Diana hummed. She could see the problem.

“I shall. Buzz me in, if you will.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The door clicks open. Diana strides through, unafraid of teenagers or similar ilk, and content with her position as designated scolder.

And, to his credit, the Robin at her charge’s bedside recognizes Diana’s lack of enthusiasm with the situation, and winces with artful precision. Silly boy— as if Diana would believe that any Bat would be ashamed of breaking a rule if they had already chosen to break it. She cannot help but be fond of each Bird’s eccentricities in their own ways. Robin hides the contraband food in his hand behind his back.

Impulse, however, hardly notices her approach, draped over her charge’s casts as he is—a whiteboard in his hand, furiously scribbling away at whatever attempt at communication he has decided to test today. Having met several male teenagers in her recent years, there is a decent chance he has been drawing genitalia as well.

Diana politely coughs into her mask. The gesture is entirely performative. Robin responds by hiding a separate can of energy drink—opened—on the side table behind him, in the hopes of hiding it from view.

Impulse, who failed to notice her arrival, continues to scribble. Occasionally there will be a burst of superspeed, but it will be in contained little bursts. He likely either wants to preserve the marker, or he is taking more care with his attempted art than usual.

Her charge looks up.

His eyes are still a concern—glazed with a green film, they jitter back and forth ever so slightly when he tries to focus on any one object in particular. He hasn’t indicated any discomfort with his eyesight, however, so it hasn’t been addressed beyond documentation.

The crack in his face—from two inches above his white, nebulous hairline and trailing down to his chin—is visible evidence of an injury or gouge of some sort, with new pink skin all around the edges as the only visible sign of inhuman levels of healing. Diana has seen a number of scars, and a number of healed, gaping wounds, but it is occasionally unsettling to set eyes on her charge and see the still-healing brain matter, skull, and inner sinus cavity through a viscous, green, not-quite-organic wound filling material.

There seems to be a consistent rate of healing, though. Diana can only hope that recovery is possible.

“Good afternoon,” Diana greets softly. Her charge’s discolored fingers flex as his face turns to look at her. “Are you well?”

His green-tinged lips part and then come together again. He’s not not paying attention—he listens very well, and has begun to use certain words in English to compensate for his need for communication. That being said, Diana has little idea what he is and is not capable of understanding.

Impulse, however, finally recognizes the newest occupant in the room. “Wonder Woman! Uh—we totally had permission to be here this time! Promise!!” he offers, immediately switching from someone gleeful to see her from someone remembering their misdeeds.

Diana is very lucky that her mask covers her fond smile. If it is her job to be stern today, she ought to live up to the task. “Did you, now?”

Impulse beams sheepishly, and rolls off of the casts of a bemused half-alien boy. “Yes! Remember last time when the nurses all said I could ‘come whenever’ and ‘bring a friend’ and—“

“You were asked to buzz in ahead of time and put on your protective gear?” Diana finishes, wry. Before she is able to scruff him appropriately, however, the superpowered boy is already gone and back—now with an askew hairnet, an upside-down surgical mask, and gloves a size too large for his hands.

“So I did that!” Impulse protests, the mask moving unnaturally over his face. “Look! All dressed up!”

It is a well-intended last minute effort. Alas, it would all be for naught. Diana scoops up a squawking speedster by the nape, and a now-blinded-by-a-misplaced-surgical-mask Robin, and trots them both back to larger medical.

“One moment!” Diana tosses back to her charge, who is, understandably, concerned.

Still. It takes Wonder Woman, two nurses, and a paraprofessional to successfully sanitize and gear up an uncooperative speedster. Robin sulks through the entire process, but capitulates to it with more grace.

Her charge’s green eyes shine and his fingers curl around his few personal possessions as Diana returns to him his companions; she wishes, so dearly, that she could ruffle his pale hair. “All done!”

The teenaged heroes sprawl across his bed just as casually as they had before—if better prepared for their environment. Robin largely gives her charge his space, careful not to impede where he isn’t wanted, but Impulse freely shares affection that her charge, at least, does not visibly deny.

Diana has her own routine to complete. She heads for the intravenous injection bags, pulls out a fresh one, and cracks the seal. After that, it’s shaking to mix the concoction and a fresh replacement.

Impulse grabs one of the toys off of her charge’s side table and brings it into his lap. The board is tilted, and all the slotted-in pieces fall out. He spends some time sorting them by shape, and then by color, until her charge lifts trembling fingers to pick them up, very carefully, one by one.

She’s impressed. His pincer grasp recovery has not been consistently smooth sailing. “Excellent work,” she praises.

Robin looks up from his tablet. Impulse looks back at her and beams. Her charge gives her a brief look, observes that she doesn’t need anything from him at the moment, and gets back to sorting the little pieces back into their allotted slot.

Impulse rests his chin on the steel arm bar of her charge’s cot. The pose seems…uncomfortable. “Hey, Tim. He got them all right.”

Timothy Robin taps away at his tablet—no doubt taking down documentation of his own. Diana can’t help but feel affection; every Bat and every Bird is so nosy, but if she wants to actually see those notes on her charge, she will have to press Batman for them with a reasonably-sized threat.

“Really?” Robin asks, eyes on the screen. “Do you think the pieces were matched based on color, or actual understanding of the numerical system?”

Diana looks down, line in her hand as she reconnects the intravenous bag. The toy in her charge’s lap is a mock clock face. Each of the numbers is printed onto the removable piece, in different cut-out shapes, and painted different colors.

The atmosphere changes. The air itself tastes different—something like electricity sparks on her tongue. And then it’s gone.

“No, he’s looking to put the clock face back in order, specifically,” Impulse confirms. Ah. Speedforce. Diana should have been able to recognize the feeling by now. “He’s kind of annoyed, actually. It’s like a baby toy.”

“Well, it is a baby toy.” Robin taps away.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s annoying. He knows he should be able to do it.”

Impulse buzzes again, and her charge hums, stuffing his flat hand between the board and the sheet until he can tip it over without grabbing at it. He repeats the same process, the only difficulty stemming from his shaking grip and his shaking eyes.

The urge to pull him close and pet his hair is understandable, Diana reminds herself, but not conducive to his long-term comfort. She smiles at him, as best as she can behind a surgical mask, and discreetly checks his drainage bags to see if they need replacing while she’s already close.

“All’s well,” she declares at last, finished with anything that isn’t social. Thankfully, having two teenagers in the room takes care of her charge’s most frequent issue—boredom. She claps her hands together, and her charge looks up at her, eyes vibrating. “Do you require anything?”

Her charge looks at her. Her charge looks at his friend. “Ouatair?” he tries to enunciate, tongue thick against the green-filled split in his hard palate. “Pleese?”

“Ithinkhewantssomewater,” Impulse rushes to translate, but Diana already knows this request. The water provided is chilled in a refrigerator, and it takes no time for her to find sanitized cup and straw—steel, so as to be safe when dropped, and relatively uncrushable, with a handle for simple gripping.

She presents it to him grip-first. His expression is grateful, and frustrated. No warrior wishes to be in the position of needing constant. Diana can understand the wish to do things on his own.

“Soon,” Diana offers, voice a whisper. “You’re already better off than before.”

Her charge grumbles into his cup. His tongue, half-green, finds the straw for him; he chomps down on the straw, slurps as loudly as he can, and sulks.

Teenagers. Diana finds herself unable to understand how Bruce has so many of them, and understands perfectly well how easy it is to take on a child in need and make them your own.

The cup goes back onto the side-table, half-empty.

“Hey,” Robin starts again. He puts his tablet to the side. The white board is pulled out of Impulse's hands and goes onto her charge's lap, and with only a little whining. “How’s this?”

Her charge mumbles something neutral. His eyebrows scrunch together, but he takes the offered blue marker from Impulse and lets the boy uncap it for him.

“Yeah, it’s more adult or whatever,” Impulse encourages. Her charge sticks out a green-mottled tongue, but takes the marker to the white board and writes. Robin peers over his shoulder to watch. “It’s just the alphabet. A, B, C, D~!”

Her charge hums the tune back to him, continuing seamlessly where Impulse left off. The teen hero beams.

Diana stills.

“Yeah, you got it!” Impulse encourages, and peeks over the edge of the board to see her charge hard at work. His letters are wobbly, certainly, and there are some that he misses, but the alphabet song is a longstanding English-language tradition. He know it. He knows it by rote.

“You missed the ampersand,” Impulse points out. Her charge scowls through the fissure in his face.

…There is no reason for Diana to get excited. Yet. Robin-the-former is already jotting down his own notes, pleased with his observations. There are many reasons and many ways this teenager might have picked up the song. J’onn famously picked up on Earth’s radiowaves before being transported to Earth; this could be further evidence that her charge has some connection to Earth, or it could be a connection to something more bizarre and unusual.

There is no shortage of unusual events these days.

And, of course, Diana runs out of things to do. She smooths down her charge’s blanket, which he hardly notices in his frustration. She refills his water. She is tempted to go grab her copy of The Art of War from her bag in the other room, which she has read before, but which she is rereading at behest of Bruce’s newest initiative: Tactical Book Club. She is optimistic about the opportunities for further education this will provide her comrades-in-arms, if not underwhelmed by the reading material. As long as the teenage heroes are in the room, Diana is obligated to remain with them, in the event that the danger level might…fluctuate. A book would give at least the semblance of privacy to the three.

Her charge makes a noise. “Hay!”

Diana looks up. In shaky hands, resting on his lap, he holds up a largely complete alphabet. There are one or two shaky letters—thorn, which is fairly common, and eth, perhaps less so—but otherwise carefully drawn, very neatly done.

“Excellently done,” Diana praises. The alphabet is a triumph of the physical work it takes to heal.

Her charge beams through his craggy face, buzzing with delight.

"I dunno," Impulse teases, upside down on her charge's legs. "They're kinda wonky."

The boy's face scrunches, smears the color away with a swipe of his arm, and draws something else.

The board shakes with his exertion as he lifts it back into place on his lap, and Diana allows herself to sigh, audibly; sure enough, as she had expected, there is a misshapen, blue, cartoon representation of a penis.

Robin full-on cackles with surprise, but Impulse falls of the bed with laughter.

Unfortunately, it is now Diana's job to figure out how to scold a teenager, and one who speaks no known language besides. Based on the resulting expressions she earns, Diana is unsure if the scolding works, but. Well.

...She tried.

#teenage shenanigans triumph over adversity #even trauma. Even pain. Even horror.#ALSO we finally get an outside POV on his FACE #Danny's body is perhaps a little more fucked up than he knows #health and hybrids #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dcu crossover

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thefallennightmare · 1 year

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Moment of Weakness-four

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: here's the next update! Probably won't' get another one out tonight but who knows!

Tags(open): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @unaxv @elizacusi-blog @alana4610 @broadwaybabe18 @themayzittcha @playboystark @raajali3 @ozwriterchick @ragamuffin285 @screamingdying @themorningsunshine @kenziekugler22 @calwitch @sebastianstansqueen @stanaddict @stucky-simp03 @sleyeveryday @loustan90 @lyra-black13 @valsworldofcreativity

The loud hiss of the coffee machine as it brewed a new pot was muffled, almost background noise, as I stood in the break room with a far off look in my eyes. My mind was filled with thoughts, impure thoughts, of the man that had been held up in his office all morning.

His large hands roaming over every inch of my skin. His lips leaving their mark in the crevice of my neck.

I couldn’t stop the way I shivered as I thought of our naked, hot bodies, wrapped tangled together in the sheets, our moans echoing throughout the room.

“God, Y/N. He’s married,” I grumbled to myself, coming back to reality.

With a soft sigh, I poured the fresh coffee into my cup and took my time in getting back to my desk. There was a long list of things I needed to get done today at work but with the very intense thoughts of Bucky, it was becoming difficult to finish that list.

The last few days had been confusing, Bucky being hot one moment then cold the next. It was soft brushes of his hand against mine or his hand on my lower back as he talked to me about something with work. It never bothered me, loving the way it felt. But I’m then reminded of Natasha by her randomly showing up at the office or calling Bucky. I felt instant regret for being so close to him that I had to force myself to step away from him.

Bucky would change when Natasha showed up, becoming cold and not bothering to look my way. I could never blame him or get upset with him because she was his wife.

I refused to be stuck in the middle between their marriage, knowing that it was so wrong.

But being with Bucky felt so right that I craved it.

“Fresh pot?”

I looked away from my computer and noticed Bucky leaning against the frame of his office door. Even with his tired eyes, I marveled at how blue they were, especially with the bright blue shirt he was wearing.

“I can bring you a cup if you’d like,” I said.

He nodded. “That would be great. Thanks Y/N.”

We shared a smile and I scurried back into the break room to pour him a cup of coffee.

I gave a soft knock on his opened door and he stood with a bright smile again, taking the extended coffee with a nod of thanks.

“Long morning?”

Bucky hummed after taking a sip. “I’ve been on the phone all morning trying to deal with one of my men dealing on a forbidden corner.”

“Oh,” I slowly nodded. “What happened?”

His brow perked. “Are you sure you want to know about what exactly I do here?”

I shrugged. “I mean, I had a feeling of what you did when I first took the job and I’m still here.”

Bucky let out a deep breath of hesitation, unsure if it was a good idea to divulge his business with me.

“Sam said he saw Peter dealing his drugs in Barton’s neighborhood,” Bucky informed me.

“Peter Parker?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Hasn’t he been a problem for you for quite a while?”

It was true. There had been a few times that I was ordered to have Peter come into the office to meet with Bucky. Every meeting always ended the same; Peter apologizing and saying it wouldn’t happen again.

Until it did.

Bucky pinched his eyes shut with his vibranium fingers. “I don’t know what else to do with him.”

“I thought Clint Barton doesn’t like outsiders in his neighborhood.”

He looked at me with slight shock and I merely shrugged. “I know some things about the other gangs in New York.”

“So you know that if an outsider is caught in his neighborhood that they typically don’t make it out alive,” Bucky said.

My eyes doubled in size. “Did he kill Parker? He’s just a kid.”

“No,” he shook his head. “It took a lot of convincing on my end but Barton let Parker go with a warning only. Which saves my ass.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Parker brings in good money, he knows the perfect clientele for his drugs.”

A thought quickly slammed into me.

“Is working for you considered illegal? With everything you do,” my fingers fidgeted with nerves.

Bucky’s blue eyes softened while he stood from his desk and walked over towards me, barely leaving distance between us.

“No. If anyone asks, you have no clue what goes on in this office.”

I could only nod, his words doing nothing to calm my shaking hands.

“Hey,” Bucky’s vibranium finger lifted my chin so our eyes locked. “Please know that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The intensity of his eyes caused my skin to prick with desire and I felt something pool in between my legs when his eyes glazed over my lips, Bucky’s tongue rolling slowly over his bottom lip; wetting them in preparation.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I shook my head, voice coming out hoarse and quiet.

“Like what?”

Bucky’s voice matched my own and I bit back a moan at how inviting his lips looked.

I looked from his lips to his eyes. “Like you want to devour me.”

He shrugged while leaning in closer, his warm breath fanning over my lips. “Maybe I do?”

I swallowed thickly and threw any morals out the window before I stood on the tips of my toes to close the distance, ready to finally feel his lips over mine. My heart pounded in my ears when I noticed that Bucky was also leaning into the kiss.

“Boss! We’ve got a problem!”

Bucky and I stepped away from each other, me sitting on the chair in his office while he stood in place. Thankfully, there wasn’t any evidence of what almost happened.

Besides my beating heart.

Peter Parker came hustling into the office, a bewildered look in his eyes. His chest rose and fell as he did his best to catch his breath. He looked between the two of us and tossed a thumb over his shoulder.

“I can come back.”

Bucky held up a hand. “No, it’s fine. I wanted to speak with you anyway. Y/N, we’ll finish this later?”

In a trance, I simply nodded with anticipation on what exactly we were going to finish later, the talk or the almost kiss.

With a quick squeeze to Peter’s shoulder, I wished him good luck for this meeting and let the door quickly shut behind me.

“I completely understand Mr. Barton. I assure you that Mr. Barnes is taking care of Peter Parker right now.” I nodded into the phone.

“He better be because if I catch this kid on my streets one more time, you will find him with an arrow in his neck.”

My stomach dropped, the image flashing in my mind.

“It won’t happen again. That I promise you.”

“Good, I’m holding you to that Ms. Y/L/N.”

The dial tone echoed loudly in my ears as I let out a deep breath, trying to regain my composure after that phone call.

As soon as I sat in my chair, the phone rang and I spent the last twenty minutes trying to calm Clint Barton down. He was still fuming at what Peter had done and I was starting to think that our words meant nothing to him, he wanted to see change.

I jotted down a few ideas that Bucky could possibly bring up in the next monthly gang meeting.

“Have I mentioned how much seeing your face brightens my mornings?”

I looked up and smiled at the blonde. “Once or twice.”

Steve’s smile matched mine. “Well, it’s true.”

I leaned back into my chair and allowed Steve to sit on the edge of my desk in front of me.

“Where have you been all morning?” I asked.

“I had to take care of a few things,” Steve said.

I tsked. “All that time and your hair still looks like shit.”

Steve scoffed while ruffling my own hair, which earned protests from me and I playfully smacked his thigh, my fingers lingering there for a moment even as the door opened behind me, Peter walking out with his head hanging low.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

Bucky appeared behind him and gave him a hard pat to the back. “It is now. Right, Parker?”

I didn’t miss the way that he burned a hole into Steve and I as my hand slowly pulled away from Steve’s thigh.

Peter nodded. “Yep. See you guys later.”

We all waved goodbye to him and I gave my attention back to Bucky. “Clint called again.”

Bucky groaned. “I’ll give him another call.”

“I handled it, I think.”

“You handled it?” Steve now spoke.

The two men shared a look of disbelief.

“It was pretty easy actually,” I shrugged as if it was nothing. “All he wanted was ten minutes of the next meeting to promote his new arrows that he’s been trying to sell.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and I was prepared to get reamed for promising something that I shouldn’t have.

Steve stood to his feet and walked over to Bucky, leaving his hand on his shoulder. “I told you she was a good one.”

Bucky hummed loudly in agreement. “Hiring you has been one of the best decisions I’ve made in a long time.”

Him and Steve entered into the office, the door being left open, and as they quietly conversed amongst themselves, I allowed myself to gaze away from my work every once in a while. Bucky and my gazes would lock and I had to force myself to look away after a few beats.

I tried to busy myself with my work but couldn’t ignore the burning gaze in the back of my head, knowing that Bucky was watching me intently. Especially when Steve walked out of the office and ruffled my hair once again.

“Rogers, I swear to god!” I playfully seethed.

He held up his hands. “You know where to find me if you decide to retaliate.”

With a wink, Steve disappeared into his own office.

“Y/N, can you look at this for me?”

I peered over my shoulder and gave Bucky a slight nod as he leaned down next to me, placing a piece of paper on my desk. I did my best to not pay attention to how close his face was next to mine as I looked at what he handed me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s the itinerary for the next meeting. There’s a lot to talk about so I want to make sure I have everything on there. If I miss anything, feel free to add it,” Bucky smiled.

My fingers worked through the couple pages and I nodded. “I’ll give it a look over right now.”

We found ourselves in our previous position, picking up where we left off before Peter walked in. Only this time, my brain screamed at me how wrong this was. It wasn’t fair to Natasha that Bucky and I continued this dance with each other, flirting and being so close.

When the magnetic pull between us caused Bucky to lean down closer to me, I laid a soft hand on his chest to stop him.

“Natasha,” was all I said.

Something flashed over Bucky’s eyes but it was gone as soon as it appeared and he was straight up on his feet once again. Gone was his soft demeanor that I found him having around me and he simply motioned towards the papers in front of me.

“This will probably take you all night so I’ll leave you to get to it.”

The door to his office slamming shut drowned out Bucky’s name falling from my lips.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan #moment of weakness-mob!bucky barnes

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microsuedemouse · 2 years

Note

oh god what’s happening in canada?

short answer: nationwide outages affecting internet & phone services, which started… about 16 hours ago now, as I’m writing this?

somewhat longer answer, with the disclaimer that I Am Not A News Source: Canada has three telecommunication companies - Rogers, Telus, and Bell. (this is a Whole Issue in itself, and one I am not qualified to explain.) all other phone/internet service providers are technically using the infrastructure of one of those companies. so like, my cell carrier is a company called Koodo, but Koodo uses Telus’s towers (etc.) for everything it does.

starting just before 5 am EST today, Rogers internet and phone services just Went Down. nationwide. coast to coast. as a result of this, Interac is largely down (that’s our interbank service - so no one can use their debit or credit cards anywhere, nor can they e-transfer money), most of our major banks are borked one way or another, 911 and emergency services are crippled in places and overloaded with panicked callers even where they’re working fine, public transit fare systems are reportedly affected??, public government services are a mess, basically everyone is lost. a massive The Weeknd concert in Toronto got cancelled lol? here’s an article from the globe and mail about where the impacts are being felt. basically imagine if roughly a third of your country just. lost all mobile and internet communication. yikes. (I haven’t looked up numbers btw, I don’t know how close it is to A Third, I’m just ballparking it bc Three Companies)

part of what’s crazy about this is that Rogers has yet to release any information about what caused this. they also can’t tell us when anything will be fixed. even the folks who still have internet and/or phone service are affected, especially by the debit/credit issue. like… especially after the last few years we’ve had, with everyone avoiding cash as much as possible, nobody’s prepared for a day of cash-only service essentially everywhere.

here’s the CBC article I’ve had an eye on with regular essential updates

as a somewhat more personal thought to add here - part of the problem with having only three telecommunication services in the entire country is that there’s essentially no competition, meaning their prices can be ridiculous. one place we feel that a lot is mobile data. so even though I’m lucky enough to still have cell/data service, I haven’t been using it most of the day. over the years my dad and I have used a series of special offers to get my plan up to 2 gigs a month at a fairly reasonable price, but I personally know plenty of folks with less! and I habitually try not to use much of it, in case I have a situation where I really need it. I could prob fuck around online more rn than I have been, but I wouldn’t want to watch videos or stream music or download anything. ESPECIALLY without knowing when the wifi will be back.

anyway. this is absurd and we’re all suffering. please cross your fingers for us lol

#stab stab kill kill @ the evil telecommunication monopoly #my siblings don’t even have SIM cards/actual phone plans so they’ve had no internet access at all lol #Canada #rogers outage

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sleepingsun501 · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2: The Taste of Caf

Characters: Commander Fox, Commander Thorn, OC Keeda Ionza, OC Mari Vontas, OC clone troopers

Summary: Keeda deals with the stressful aftermath of her evening, Fox talks to Thorn about a new assignment, and silent justice is served.

Rating: Explicit 18+, no smut

Warnings: Aftermath discussions of attempted SA from the previous chapter, nothing graphic. Hurt/Comfort.

Word Count: 5.6k

Ao3 link

A/N: CHAPTER 2 UPDATED: 04/14/2023. Hello and welcome to the updated version of Sweet True Lies. It has been reworked into 3rd person and will follow my OCs and canon characters POV's from here on out. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!! A huge thank you to @rexxdjarin for beta reading, and for letting me borrow her OC, Mari Vontas!!

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The Taste of Caf

Keeda breathed out a long, tense sigh as she watched the familiar luxury high-rise come into view. The senatorial transport wove smoothly around the bustling lanes of traffic, carrying her swiftly to her childhood home. It felt odd riding in a vehicle with such clearances, as it normally would have taken at least a few extra minutes for her to get here through her normal route.

“Level 233, please. You can just pull up next to the speeder on the landing platform there,” she said to the driver, spotting her mother’s expensive vehicle parked on the private landing pad.

“No problem, miss,” the driver replied, slowing the transport, and angling smoothly toward the correct side of the skyscraper.

He opened the door for her once more and offered her his hand to help her out of the posh vehicle. Upon taking it, Keeda subtly slipped him a few high-value credits. With gratitude written all over his intricately tattooed face, he tipped his cap to her again and bid her a good evening as she began making her way across the platform.

She was relieved her mother was home tonight. She had been half expecting her to be neck-deep in either some new medical research back at her office or planning for the upcoming charity gala at the lavish venue, but she saw the large, intricately mirrored glass door already open for her as the transport came to a stop.

Keeda squinted as the warm light beyond the heavily tinted windows spilled out through the open door and into the night, illuminating part of the landing pad. Having already given her mother a heads-up through a text comm that she was on her way over—and recounting the entire incident in her message—she hoped she would not have to repeat any of the distasteful events that had transpired in the past hour.

The wind rippled gently through Sareel Ionza’s velvet robe and nightgown as she hurried out to greet her daughter. The austere look on her face must have told Sareel enough because she immediately took her daughter into a motherly embrace. “Oh, honey,” she cooed, sounding worried. She placed a hand on her daughter’s dark hair and tucked her into her shoulder.

“I’m ok, Mum,” she muttered, carefully crafting her composure and not really believing the lie.

Sareel was a thin woman with a graceful, reed-like figure, but her grasp was like a vice. “I told Auntie Henya what happened, and she just feels awful. She said she wanted to come by in the morning to talk, but I figured you would want some space for a bit.”

Henya was an experienced lawyer at the same hospital where Sareel worked and one of her best friends. She had watched Keeda grow up and had been like family for years, and she had been the one who set up the date.

Keeda blinked rapidly and nodded, feeling choked up again as her mother took her face in her hands. “Please let her know it wasn’t her fault, okay?” she requested, settling into her mother’s arm and letting herself be led inside. She passed through the large foyer and into the less formal part of the residence with her mother’s comforting arm around her shoulders. You’re home. You’re safe. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but that disgusting, worthless asshole’s. she told herself for the tenth time.

Upon entering the kitchen, she shucked her coat and tossed it lazily over the arm of one of the sleek barstools, making for the conservator. The oversized, stainless durasteel-topped island in the center of the kitchen was littered with flimsi sheets, a few datapads, and samples of different elegant dishes.

Yep, she was gala planning. Keeda thought, wrinkling her nose at what looked to be a cold, slimy seafood dish. Her mother’s household protocol droid, TC-N2, was unwrapping and setting out even more food samples as she passed. Fuck, I could’ve just come here for dinner.

She could feel Sareel’s warm brown eyes following her every move. “I’m not hurt, Mum,” she said tensely, shaking her long, heavy hair out of the loosely braided updo she had been wearing all evening, releasing some of the strain on her neck.

“Maybe not physically,” Sareel said swiftly, tucking a stray pale blonde curl behind her ear and adjusting her glasses, “but you’re most definitely shaken up. I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if those clones had not been there.” She sighed as she took her daughter’s coat and folded it before handing it off to TC-N2. “They sound like good men.”

“Yeah,” Keeda agreed, swallowing thickly. “They were.” Keeping her head buried in the conservator, she blinked hard and banished the tear that had been trying to escape. Talking about her evening was the last thing she wanted to do, but she conceded that, as her mother, Sareel had a right to express her feelings about it.

Her mind wandered back to the clone commander and his men again as she continued searching through the conservator. As prepared as she had been to defend herself, she was relieved the clones had come along. So often, the clones were treated little better than droids, not even being legally considered citizens in the eyes of the Republic, and Keeda once again felt guilty about how she had spoken to the commander—she had not even asked for his name.

“So good to see you this evening, Mistress Keeda. Is there something you require? As you can see, we have plenty of food,” the silver-plated droid asked, watching her dig through various frozen items.

“Nope, I got it,” she replied, triumphantly holding up a tub of her favorite ice cream and grabbing a nearby spoon. “Thanks, N2.”

She plunged the spoon into the softening ice cream, took a bigger scoop than was probably wise, and stuffed it in her mouth. The sweetness and rich cocoa-caf flavor immediately replaced the bitterness she had been tasting, making the tightness rising in her chest a little easier to bear.

“Is there anything else you require, Mistress Sareel?” N2 asked. “If not, I should like to recharge for a while. My energy level is becoming critical.”

“Go ahead, N2,” Sareel answered, dismissing the droid. She leaned on the grey tektite granite counter behind her daughter and took off her glasses. “This is the last thing I’ll ask tonight, I promise,” she began, also grabbing a spoon. “Would you like me to remove the governor and his wife from the gala invitation list?”

Keeda groaned inwardly, trying to calm her nerves as she rolled the frozen cream around on her tongue. She had forgotten they had been invited to the gala, but the calm familiarity and the sweet, oaky scent of her sprawling childhood home were soothing her in a way she could not explain, and it was helping her think more clearly.

As much as she despised playing politics, she knew uninviting the governor would not benefit the charity’s local efforts in his district. If she had to suffer through an evening in the same room as her assailant’s family for the benefit of all those people the charity could help, then she would do it.

Out of what felt like a mixture of spite, and possibly a little self-pity, she dug her spoon into the ice cream again and took another large bite before pushing the container toward her mother. “Don’t uninvite them,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sure they’ll be hearing about this from Henya, anyway. Besides, it’s their son who was the problem.”

Sareel gave her a concerned look and took a smaller bite. “It’s up to you, honey. They may want to talk to you about what happened tonight. That is if they even choose to come at all.”

Keeda mulled it over silently as she shared her dessert. She had already made up her mind, but there was that tiny inkling of doubt making her question herself. She popped another large spoonful of ice cream into her mouth before tossing her spoon into the sink with a clatter. “It’s fine, Mum. Don’t worry about it,” she said blandly. She was not entirely sure it was fine, but she did not want to discuss it anymore at the moment.

Inhaling deeply to assuage the ache in her chest, she scrubbed a hand through her wavy hair. “I’m gonna go take a bath and just try to sleep. I’ve canceled all my plans for tomorrow so I can have a bit of a lie-in.”

“Okay, honey. I’ll be out here if you need me.” Sareel kissed the back of her daughter’s head gently as she walked behind her. “If you want something to do tomorrow, could you stop by June’s nursery and check on the flowers for the gala?”

June was Keeda’s best friend from university. She had inherited one of the few greenhouses left on Coruscant, and Sareel had placed a substantial order with her for the gala decorations. Keeda had been meaning to stop by there to see her friend anyway, so she answered with a silent nod.

“I’m glad you’re here and that you’re safe,” Sareel added as she disappeared down the hall, sounding a little melancholy.

With a long sigh, Keeda made her way to her old bedroom, knowing full well why her mother had said that. She had asked Keeda at least twice over the past few months to move back in with her, saying that the sprawling luxury condo was simply too big for one person who was hardly ever there. Her mother had even gone so far as to update her room for her over time, keeping up with her maturing tastes. After tonight, Keeda could only imagine that desire had grown.

Originally, Keeda had told herself she moved out to feel some sort of independence after she had started attending the University of Coruscant, but the truth was she had been trying to escape the memory of her father at the time. However, she could never escape him, because she looked just like him—everything from her light olive skin and dark hair down to her bright green eyes and muscular build was Terreg Ionza.

As she entered her old bedroom, she realized that being there no longer felt like she was running from a memory, or that she was going to accidentally stumble into her father turning a corner, or see him sipping whiskey and reading in his favorite chair. She had been feeling rather lonely as well, absorbed in her work for the charity and overseeing the shipping company she had inherited. After all, it was why she had agreed to go on that awful date in the first place. Perhaps moving back in was something to consider when she had less on her already crowded plate.

It also dawned on her that it would be impractical to keep her little apartment much longer. Part of the reason for the gala Sareel was planning was not only to fundraise but also to commemorate the attachment of civilian relief effort volunteers to different units of the Grand Army of the Republic. Seeing as Keeda was one such volunteer, she could not fathom a reason to let the place just sit empty for months on end.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed hard, trying to dispel the headache that was forming behind her eyes, and wrenched the handle on her tub a little harder than necessary. The large soaker tub in her old bathroom filled quickly, pleasantly filling the air with steam, and she set about examining herself in the mirror as she stripped down. When she turned in the dim light, she felt a pit form in her stomach as she noticed a dark bruise forming on her upper arm where her assailant had grabbed her.

Dammit. she thought, scrambling to find a tube of bacta in one of her drawers. Thank the Maker the home was stocked full of medical supplies—almost as well-stocked as the hospital itself, compliments of having a surgeon for a mother.

Keeda’s vision started to blur with unshed tears again as she fumbled with the cap and squeezed the gel over her arm. Rubbing it in furiously, she did not think she had been gripped that hard, especially through her wool-lined coat, but the adrenaline must have overridden her ability to sense pain. She was disgusted by the thought of that wretched man having left any kind of mark on her, so she slathered another copious amount of the tingling blue gel into her arm until her skin was dry and the bruise began to fade.

The tears were flowing freely by the time she lowered herself into the steaming water, not caring that it was a bit too hot for her liking. Her skin prickled from the heat, but she forced herself into it anyway–wanting to feel something other than the anxiety coursing through her limbs. The tub was deep enough that she could submerge herself completely, so she sank under the water, letting it carry her tears away, and let herself scream—the delayed and repressed rage and fear finally breaking through.

High in the towers of the GAR Military Complex, Fox plopped down in his chair tiredly. It was late, and he had a mountain of flimsi-work to catch up on, but it was worth it to have taken Jonor and Rydar on their first real patrol. It was even more worth it to have put that high-born asshole in his place.

Pulling his gloves off and scrubbing his calloused hands over his face and through his curls, he waited for his little caf machine to finish brewing a fresh pot. He studied his right hand in the light from his desk lamp, flexing away the slight soreness where his knuckles had bruised from the force of the two blows he had dealt. Deep down, he was glad for it. That shabuir deserved every hit. he thought angrily.

How anyone could ever think of hurting a woman—or any other living being for that matter—in that gruesome way was inconceivable to him. As a soldier and a commanding officer, he had a stomach for everything, except that. The very idea of it made his gut churn because, in a way only clones would understand, he knew what it felt like to have his own autonomy stripped away.

In his short life, from the day he was decanted, he had been treated as little more than an identical cog in a machine he could not see—a replaceable part that was destined to be destroyed on a future battlefield. Even now, a year and a half into the war, he despised the Kaminoans for viewing them as nothing more than products to be used and tossed away whenever they had served their purpose.

Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes briefly and could still see the young woman in his mind. Her beautiful green eyes had been so full of fire, ready to burn everything in their wake. She had been quick and accurate, a sign of training. He had no doubt she probably could have taken care of herself, but a tightness enveloped his chest as he thought of her, still hoping she was somewhere safe.

The beeping of his caf machine broke through the memory. Fox dragged himself up again, grabbed a clean mug, and poured what he knew would be the first of many cups. He shook himself a little, watching his cup fill and wondering why the woman had such a deep effect on him. He did not even know her name. As he replaced the small pot, he heard his office door slide open.

“Bring the shinies back alive?” a rather chipper voice asked.

Thorn. Fox thought as he turned to face his brother. “They did very well. Observant and… followed orders.”

“Glad to hear it,” Thorn said with a yawn, pulling his long golden curls into a bun. “I was getting worried Jonor would get sidetracked. He’s shown some tendency for distraction in training sims. They looked pretty happy with themselves, though. Got enough there for two?” he asked, looking to the caf pot.

Fox tipped his head toward the pot as he took a sip and crossed the room to his desk. The hot, bitter, dark liquid warmed him to his bones.

Thorn poured himself a cup and grimaced as he took an experimental sip. “Ugh! How do you drink this stuff without some sugar or cream or… dying?” That got a rare, genuine laugh out of the Marshal Commander. Smiling to himself, Thorn knew he was probably one of the few clones alive, apart from Fox’s batchmates, that could manage to make that happen.

“Black like my soul,” Fox said, taking his seat again.

Thorn frowned, but his voice was light, “Ha! Have you met yourself? The boys would’ve nicknamed you ‘Commander Sunshine’ if the 212th hadn’t already snatched that title for Cody.”

Beneath the gruff, stoic, and intimidating exterior, Fox was one of the most selfless brothers Thorn had ever come across. He had always put himself on the line first, whether it be physical or official, ready to take the fall if necessary. For that, Thorn and the rest of the Corries were eternally grateful. They all knew how tired he was, they had all seen the premature grey lacing through his curls, and they all worked their asses off out of gratitude.

Fox miraculously laughed again, taking another drink. His oldest batchmate, Marshal Commander Cody of the 212th Legion deserved that call sign far more than he did. He wondered if he still would have earned that nickname if the chancellor had not requested that Fox be made Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard instead of Cody. In any case, Fox thought his troops’ call sign for him—Caf—suited him far better, even if no one called him that to his face.

“Whoa, hold up,” Thorn said suddenly, coming over and noticing Fox’s knuckles. “Those are new.”

Sighing and ignoring Thorn’s remark, Fox set his cup down and picked up his stylus, ready to start signing off on reports and supply requests.

Thorn perched himself expectantly on the edge of Fox’s desk, caf in hand and an expectant expression on his face. “You always wear training gloves so those aren’t from a punching bag or a training scrap.”

Fox pulled a face. He knew Thorn was not going to let this go, no matter how much work he had to do. His hyper-observant blonde kih’vod was a pain in his ass at times, always mother-nuna-ing him. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, but Fox had grown to rely on that in a way.

“This one’s off the books for now,” the marshal commander said, keeping his eyes on his reports and giving in to the silent pressure of Thorn’s gaze.

The blonde cocked an eyebrow, sipping his caf and waiting patiently as Fox recounted the evening’s events. He was not surprised at the stunningly thorough level of Fox’s detail, especially how his fist making contact with the assailant’s jaw had brought the tired commander some true satisfaction.

It had been a while since any of the Corrie commanders, including Stone and Thire, had the occasion to justifiably beat the living shit out of anyone but each other, especially a nat-born. They went at each other hard in training, but even training had its limits.

Thorn downed the last swallow of his caf as Fox finished his narrative with a sleepy sigh, returning his focus to signing off on reports. “Damn, I gotta start going back on patrols more often. Sounds like that prick deserved it,” Thorn said, pulling a tube of bacta gel out of one of his belt packs and extending it.

Eyeing the tube, Fox shook his head, his messy curls bouncing a little as he scribbled his signature off on a report. “Nah, I want to keep these for a while.”

“Your call, Vod. Might not look too good in your dress greys with your hand like that, though,” Thorn replied with a shrug, tucking the tube back in his pack. “Might want to use some under your eyes, too. You need more sleep.”

Fox paused his scribbling. “Dress greys?” he asked, his brows pulling together in confusion. “When am I…?” He let out an exasperated huff when it crashed over him. The charity gala that a multitude of senators, celebrities, and other public officials had been invited to was in just a few days, and the Coruscant Guard had been requested as security detail due to the event’s high profile. “No,” he protested adamantly, glaring up at Thorn. “No, no, no, Thire said he had that covered.”

Thorn shrugged. “He got called off-world. Some senator needed an escort home through the frontline.” He chuckled quietly as Fox groaned and thumped his head on his desk. “Come on, it’s just a big fancy dinner with a few thousand guests tops. It’s not the worst event we’ve ever covered. Maybe we can sneak some dinner while we’re there like we did at that crazy party Senator Taa held last month.”

Kriffing hells. Fox did not even bother to raise his head. “You know, you guys keep telling me to sleep, but instead you keep giving work I delegate to you right back to me.”

“Well, when Jonor and Rydar and the rest of the shinies can hold their own in security detail, I’ll delegate more to them,” Thorn said, patting Fox’s armored shoulder and hopping off his desk. “Seriously, though, take a nap at least.”

“I’ll nap when you get a haircut,” Fox shot back, both playful and annoyed. He was tired of finding stupidly long, stray blonde hair on everything.

“You’ll be awake for the rest of my life,” Thorn laughed, leaving Fox to his paperwork.

“No!” an adolescent boy’s voice screamed. It cracked from having started puberty just months prior. “No, you can’t take him! Vod!”

Fox was panicking, groggily struggling against two pairs of long, thin arms—one holding his torso, another holding his legs. The more he kicked and fought, the foggier his vision became. The edges of his peripheral vision were blacking out and blurring.

“No!” the young boy screamed again.

He could hear himself crying out, too, desperate to hold on, but he only caught a blurry glimpse of the other boy before the blackness consumed him.

A loud banging and an angry feminine voice calling his name—no, not his name, his full title—made Fox jump up so violently he knocked his knees on the underside of his desk and sent his half-full caf cup flying to the floor.

“Marshal Commander Fox, open this fucking door!” the woman called again.

Fox realized he was panting and sucked in a deep breath to slow his heart rate. Just a dream. It was just a dream. he told himself. I really have to stop falling asleep here.

The pounding on his door continued as he regained his bearings, and he activated the switch on his desk, sinking back down into his chair. “Mari, what the fuck? What’re you ‘marshal commander-ing’ me for? You never call me that.” He rubbed the base of his palms into his eyes as he pulled himself further from his nightmare.

A petite, voluptuous, gorgeous young woman strode into his office and set a brand new, steaming cup of caf on his desk before leaning over it and glaring at him. “Drink up.”

The misty morning light was just beginning to filter through the tall window behind him, and he looked at the chronometer on the far wall. “Fucking hell, it’s only just past 0600 hours. If you’re not banging a headboard against the wall this early, it’s not worth the noise.”

He eyed her cautiously before picking up the cup, the sweet scent of the good caf she always brought him was too tempting to ignore. Bringing it to his lips, he noted her large brown eyes had not left his face. “What? Please tell me you poisoned this.”

“What the hell did you do last night?” Mari asked quickly.

“There’s a lot of night to cover, Mari. Which part?”

“Oh, maybe the part that has a very pissed-off Coruscanti governor and his beat-to-shit son looking for you?!” The angry panic in Mari’s voice was evident, but underneath there was true worry.

Fox took a hefty swallow. “Ah, that part.”

Mari came around to the side of his desk without any spilled caf and perched herself on the edge, much like Thorn had the night before. “Fox, I’m serious.”

“The guy tried to assault a young woman last night. I was on patrol with some shinies and we caught him,” he explained. “After she was safe, I may have sanctioned an… unorthodox punishment.”

“Fox…” she groaned, crossing her arms tightly. “That would explain why the guy’s face is purple.”

He could not help the brief grin that crept across his handsome face, but Mari’s terrified expression wiped it clean off. She had always looked out for him and the Corries, knowing what they endured on behalf of the Republic, and she made Fox’s life that much less miserable. He, too, cared for her deeply, having watched her work her ass off for Senator Amidala. As a strong advocate for clones to have full citizenship and rights, Mari knew what could happen if a clone was seen to be out of line.

“I recorded the whole thing. I’ve got proof of what he did, it’s gonna be fine,” he said reassuringly, rising to his feet and stretching. His tight muscles protested and his neck gave a satisfying pop as he rolled his shoulders. “Just go to work like normal, and if I don’t bring you a cup of caf by lunch, then you can worry. Okay?”

Sighing, Mari pushed herself off the desk, “I can get Senator Amidala to mediate this if you want.” She could never keep up her anger for long around Fox, so she hugged herself tighter to stave off her anxiety. She was trying so desperately not to let it show, but Fox saw right through her.

“C’mere.” He pulled her into a gentle hug, careful not to crush her against his armor. He was the only one other than Rex who knew hugs were the fastest way to calm her down. Well, maybe the second fastest. he chuckled in his mind.

As beautiful and passionate as Mari was, the was no way Fox would have ever dreamt of bending her over his desk, even before she had started dating Rex. She and Fox had kissed once after one too many shots at 79s, but they had both promptly broken out laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Fox doubted he would ever deserve someone like her, and he did not want to ruin the precious friendship they had forged. He knew she deserved someone as valiant as the captain, and Fox could not be happier for them.

“Shut up, I know what you’re thinking,” Mari’s slightly muffled voice mumbled from his chestplate.

“Not in your wildest dreams, short stuff,” Fox said, rubbing her back over her long, dark hair.

“Just go get some work done, yeah? Save the Republic and all that.”

Mari nodded and made her way to the door. “I still expect that caf by noon.”

“Don’t worry, I know how you like it.”

“Mhmm. Nice and sweet. None of that death water you drink.”

“Wait, were we talking about caf or your taste in men?”

Fox smiled as Mari slinked out the door, holding up her middle finger in his direction. Just as his door slid shut again, his comm pinged, summoning him to the main security office of the Military Complex.

He quickly gulped down the rest of the caf Mari had brought him, eternally grateful she had come so far out of her way so early, and grabbed a comb and some styling gel from his desk drawer. He quickly worked through his messy mop of curls and commed Rydar and Jonor to meet him in the security office.

“That’s him, Father!” a rather petulant voice announced as Fox exited the lift into the spartan waiting area.

Governor Baylo Gargeli and his son were on their feet immediately, and Fox frowned. Sure enough, as Mari had said, the son had purple bruises and cuts all over his angular face and his hair was purposefully disheveled, but Fox was skeptical of the cast and sling he had on one arm.

“You are Marshal Commander Fox I presume?” the governor asked flatly.

Fox came to stand at attention before them. “Yes, sir.”

“Thank you for accommodating us so early. As you see, this is a matter of rather grave importance. My son, Pettri, tells me that you and your men unjustly assaulted him and frightened away his date as they were leaving a restaurant last night. I know of you, and this is a heavy accusation to bring against such a highly decorated commander. I would—”

“He did!” Pettri interrupted. “And it was unprovoked! His men dragged me into an alley and started beating me, and one of them broke my arm. You saw how I was in the hospital, Father.”

A subtle glare from his father sent Pettri into silence, and Fox was doing his best to stifle the laugh bubbling in his chest. This guy is so pathetic. The governor can’t possibly be buying this load of bantha shit.

Gargeli cleared his throat. “As I was saying, Commander, I would very much like for this to be resolved here and now if possible, and your cooperation would be appreciated,” he said with distinguished grace.

Fox immediately began pulling up the footage from his helmet recorder onto his HUD from the previous night. “Have you spoken to the young woman?” he asked, ignoring Pettri completely. “I’m sure her insight and witness testimony to these accusations would be valuable.”

Pettri visibly paled under his bruises as his father turned to him once again. “I-I…uh, well, it’s so early… and s-she didn’t… she wasn’t a-answering her comm,” he stammered.

Rolling his eyes, Fox pulled off his bucket and heard Jonor and Rydar exit the turbolift behind him. The lie was even more pitiful than his ramblings just moments ago. “These are the men I had with me last night. Do you have your recordings?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Jonor replied, each of them handing the commander a datastick.

“Thank you, gentlemen. Governor, if you and your son would follow us to the briefing room, I have three separate recorded accounts of what transpired last evening.”

“Gladly,” the governor replied. “Come, Pettri.”

Fox could practically feel Pettri quivering in fear as he ushered them into the room, but kept his smirk to himself. This was one part of his job he loved. Solid proof and imminent justice, and he had always been good at making sure it was delivered. He knew even if the governor and his son wished to press further charges, Pettri’s lie would never hold up in the courts against three separate recordings, even if they were the testimony of clones.

Inserting the datasticks from all of their helmets into a viewscreen, he stood back with his men and watched as the awful night replayed itself. He watched the governor’s expressions shift from expectant to furious throughout the recordings, forced to watch as his son attempted to assault an innocent young woman. Pettri stood silently beside his father and stared at the floor, his lies laid bare.

He also struggled to keep from gazing at the young woman again. The delayed fear in her beautiful green eyes was plain to see, even in his recording. It was not her fault she had gone on such a shitty date, and he hoped she did not blame herself. He wished he had at least gotten her name so he could do a wellness check on her.

But Fox was also watching the recordings from Jonor’s and Rydar’s helmets. Each of them had waited until Pettri had thrown a swing at them to deal their damage. However, not once did they hit either of Pettri’s arms. Their blows were contained to his face and torso, and not nearly powerful enough to break bones. Add a self-inflicted injury to the list of idiotic things this di’kut has brought on himself. he thought amusedly.

When the recordings ended, Governor Gargeli turned pensively to the three clones. “I thank you for your assistance, Commander. This has been most enlightening,” he said, his disappointment and anger toward his son leaking into his tone.

Fox bowed his head professionally. “My pleasure, sir. Is there anything else we can assist you with?” he asked, twitching an eyebrow.

The governor turned to Pettri who was visibly shrinking within himself. “I would like a moment alone with my son.”

“Of course. Jonor, Rydar, let’s give them some privacy.” As soon as the door slid behind them, Fox patted both of them on their shoulder bells. “You both did well, last night. You’re dismissed.”

Fox took up a post by the door to be sure the governor would not be interrupted. He wished the room had not been soundproofed so he could hear whatever verbal barrage Pettri was currently enduring. Even still, he was satisfied that the young woman currently invading his thoughts yet again was getting her justice, even if she never found out about it.

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merlieve · 2 years

Note

For your bridgerton requests, do you write dark obsessive/possessive stuff? If so, can I get a dark!anthony bridgerton x innocent naive!reader and jealousy? (If not, you can just ignore me 🙈 sorry)

training wheels I :: anthony bridgerton x reader

CHAPTER ONE. WHEELS AREN’T EVEN TOUCHING THE GROUND. Fem! Reader. (She/Her). 2k words.

[ Note: I have too many ideas with this prompt, so I made it a series! NEW LAYOUT UPDATED]

Warning/s: Possessive Anthony, Friendzone-d Anthony

I do not allow my works to be published on another site, so please check in with me, or at least give credit!

Anthony and [Name] have been friends for as long as they can recall, their fathers met at Oxford, where they finished their studies. When Edmund passed away, [Father’s Name] didn’t take it nicely, he fled the country, but that didn’t stop Anthony and [Name] from writing letters to each other, they always kept in touch. Though this season, [Name] didn’t write back to Anthony.

[Name]’s at the ripe age of eighteen, her family thought she was ready to debut, so her family voyaged back to London to find a husband for her. She was a daughter of a duke and duchess, so she had no problem with rank. She was nervous, her mother had been teaching her about the fine arts and learning different languages to entertain her husband, she didn’t like how she was doing all of this, not for herself, but for her future husband. And because of all of this, [Name] didn’t have the time to exchange regards with friends, whether it’d be Anthony or not.

“[Name], wake up! We’re here,” Beamed [Sister’s Name] as she practically yelled at [Name]’s poor ear. “How long was I asleep for?! I certainly didn’t expect we’d be here so early,” Yawned [Name] while getting off of the black carriage. Her sister and she took a moment to take in the London air that had bestowed upon them. The housekeepers and maids stood on the stairs as they greeted their employers.

“I want to thank you, Eliza, for taking care of our house after all these years!” Gasped [Father’s Name], “Do not thank me, Your Grace, for it is simply my job to take care of your fine home,” Smiled Eliza, the head housekeeper.

“I haven’t seen this house in years! The Deja vû I got,” Sighed [Mother’s Name] as she reflected on her memories when she was a young woman in London. “Hurry up, I can’t wait!” Spoke [Sister’s Name] as she opened the door to reveal their old home, the entryway filled with flowers, and the family colours. “It’s marvellous!” Stated [Sister’s Name], as she smelled the flower next to her, resulting in her sneezing in the process.

“When you were a baby, you always drew on the wall! Let’s hope it doesn’t happen again,” Winked Eliza to [Sister’s Name]. Eliza was like a second mother to them, she helped [Mother’s Name] put them to sleep, eat, and keep them entertained when their parents aren’t home, [Sister’s Name] may not remember it but [Name] did, she kept in touch with Eliza whenever her mother sends a letter out to the housekeepers.

[Name] ran up to her room in excitement, when she walked in she froze up, remembering the times Anthony and her would play with her dolls while their mothers watch them. Oh, God, she forgot to tell Anthony she was back in London nor did she have the time to. But [Name] decided to surprise him at Lady Danbury’s ball.

The Bridgerton household stayed the same. Hyacinth and Gregory playing in the corridors, Francesca and Eloise minding their own business, Anthony writing on his notepad and Benedict illustrating his future masterpiece. Eloise was reading the new issue of Whistledown that came out this forenoon, sharing her comments to Francesca as rolled her eyes at her sister, though a particular paragraph had caught her eye.

“The [Last Name]’s are in London!” Beamed Francesca, a smile smeared on her face. Her outburst made everyone stop what their doing. “Oh! How wonderful, we should pay them a visit shall we?” Clapped Violet, “We haven’t seen them in so long,” Everyone started making plans, but Anthony didn’t care for a word they said, he missed [Name] truly, though why didn’t she tell him they were coming back to Mayfair? Did she not want him to know? All these questions flooded Anthony’s mind. “Anthony, may you clear tomorrow for us? I shall write a letter to Daphne to tell her the great news!” Smiled Violet, as she looked at everyone with delight.

Anthony didn’t know why he was angry that she didn’t tell him she was going back to London. He was worried for her that’s all… “Err - yes, mama, I shall,” He nodded in his mother’s direction and left to go to his study, which was filled with notepads and stacks of paper waiting to be signed. He walks over to his desk, showing an unfinished letter he was going to give to [Name], as he looked at it longer he felt pathetic, and Anthony hated that. [Full Name] had Anthony Bridgerton wrapped around her finger and she never knew it.

[Name] was innocent and sinless, so Anthony had no reason to think of her at night. His feelings for [Name] grew each time they wrote to each other. Hell, he forgot what she looked like, and that made him eager to see her again. When Colin was off on his travels, he stopped by to see the [Last Name]’s, and that made Anthony wish he came when Colin offered him to visit [Country Name]. Colin described [Name] was more mature than before, well, it was obvious it had been YEARS since they saw each other. He could only picture her as what Colin described, which made him yearn to see her.

In honour of the first ball of the reason, Lady Danbury embellished the ballroom with flowers of all sorts, and her decorating was divine. Even the Queen commented on this floral set-up. The orchestra prepared an exquisite song as people started dancing in the centre.

After the song ended, the Bridgertons finally arrived at the venue, Eloise holding on to her dear mama’s arm for her life. She looked very uncomfortable wearing the dress, as she started moving around to find a less itchy spot. “Stop fussing with your dress,” Ordered Anthony, his mind plagued seeing [Name] tonight. “You look lovely, dear,” Complimented Violet, while she looked around smiling. “I look like a prize calf trussed up for auction!” Fumed Eloise stubbornly, Benedict thought it was funny to moo at Eloise in the process.

“Even Daphne thought most apprehensive at her first official ball and look how well her season turned out,” Scolded Violet, making Eloise change her mind a little… It didn't last long until a gentleman started to approach Eloise, Benedict made an excuse about cakes and left with Eloise, making the gentleman feel disappointed.

It was only Violet and Anthony left. “It truly is a sparse crop,” Complained Anthony, as he looked around the room. “Well, I’m sure there is someone here who would charm you, maybe a specific [Last Name]” Smirked Violet. Anthony looked at her with shocking eyes.

“After all this is the season the Viscount intends to find a wife!” Giggled Violet, emphasizing the wife part, making mamas and debutants look in their direction. “You honestly just did that?!” Whisper shouted Anthony, as he looked at his mother in disbelief. “I believe I did,” Teased Violet as mamas find their way to approach him with their daughters, practically begging for him to dance with them.

“-The Viscount intends to find a wife!” A voice all too acquainted echoed along with the gallery. “My, my, could it be?” Gasped [Mother’s Name], looking at where the noise came from. Aside from the hoard of suitor hungry mamas, she found the right person she was looking for.

“Well, if it isn’t Violet Bridgerton!” Smiled [Mother’s Name] as she dragged the rest of the family behind her. “Lady [Last Name],what a surprise! I’ve heard about your arrival yesterday, I trust you have settled in?” Chattered Violet, delighted seeing the [Last Name]’s after years. “Why, yes, we have,” - “What brings you back to London? Getting little [Name] out to society I hope?” Inquired Violet, looking at [Name] as she smiled at the young girl.

“My, how you have grown! The last time I saw you, you were as short as a cotton ball, and [Sister’s Name] you were just a baby when I first saw you!” Sighed Violet, remembering the good memories. “You must be eager to see Anthony again, are you? You two were like two peas in a pod! However, he is quite busy,” The [Last Name]’s followed Violet’s gaze on Anthony, looking too overwhelmed with the various ladies beseeching him to dance with them, their mamas following with ‘You must get to know her, she is a great dancer!’.

Accepting his fate, almost every woman’s dance card is filled with his name on it. Anthony looked around, trying to find a familiar face when he saw someone he knew all too well. He practically rushed, he waited his whole life for this moment. Anthony didn’t care if he hit a person or two, he just had to see her again, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, dreaming about her, and reminiscing about her. There it was… the spark, he knew he had met her.

“[Name]...” Whispered Anthony, his heart was beating fast and his palms were getting sweaty, he waited for this moment to come, hell, he even IMAGINED it, [Name] would be lying if she didn’t say she did the same. “A-Anthony?!” Exclaimed [Name], her eyes couldn’t believe her, they both wish they could hug each other without society turning it into a scandal. Anthony looked mature… and deadly attractive, but we don’t talk about that. Anthony swore this was the first genuine smile he made, words couldn’t explain how happy he was. He felt comfortable around her, and she felt the same. Their eyes were filled with tears they refused to let go,

Anthony had to contain himself from embracing her, [Name] almost fainted, she felt her glass slipping away from her fingers, she didn’t have the time to process what was happening. The sound of glass shattering made people look their way, [Name] felt embarrassed. “O-Oh… I didn’t mean to,” - “No worries, I’ll get it,” Anthony interrupted, he grabbed the shards of glass with the protection of his gloves. He gave the rest to a nearby butler. “Thank you, Anthony,” Smiled [Name], still feeling small after her incident. “You’re very welcome, [Name]. It is good - GREAT to see you again,” Laughed Anthony, making [Name] laugh with him. “Can’t you believe it’s been years since we saw each other?! You look so… Viscount-y?”

“Ah, yes, Viscount-y… my favourite word! I make people use it instead of Viscount since it’s too bland and Viscount-y feels very lively,” Anthony jokes, [Name] was glad he never changed over these years. “Should I call you Viscount now?” Asked [Name], she didn’t want to be disrespectful to Anthony’s name, she was used to calling him Anthony all these years. “No need, you are my dearest friend, you deserve calling me by my first name after all the burden that is me that YOU put up with,” Exclaimed Anthony, taking a sip from the champagne the waiter served.

“Enough about my title, how have you been?” Inquired Anthony, focusing on [Name]. “Life has been great, my mama’s pretty excited with me coming out into society,” Smiled [Name], Anthony felt a ping, ‘so she’s a debutante?’ Anthony thought this was his chance.. but the thought of other people considering her as an eligible bachelorette bothered him, he didn’t know why.

“Are you alright, Anthony? You look lost in thought,” Commented [Name], looking at Anthony with worried eyes, Oh, don’t get him started with her eyes, her eyes were pure, innocent, angelic like. “S-sorry, I remembered I have to dance with a few ladies…” Anthony excused, his excuse was true, he forgot everything after he saw [Name], he wanted nothing but to be with her, he wanted to protect her, and he wanted her to trust him enough to let him in. “Oh… alright! Have a great night, Anthony,” She sounded disappointed, she WAS disappointed, but she shoved it down, knowing they had to part in some time of the night. Anthony hesitantly walked away, looking back at [Name], he didn’t want to leave her, her presence made him comfortable, her scent was lustrous, and she was absolutely delicate.

Anthony went to one of the women he signed up to dance with, and before the music started, he saw [Name]… dancing with another man. He didn’t know why he was jealous, or why he cared, but nonetheless, the thought of her marrying another man made him sick to his stomach. He thought he was the perfect fit for [Name], they fit together like a glove, not the mention they have been friends when they were both as small as a biscuit.

Anthony wanted her, she only thought of him as a brother. He knew that she told him before that he was her older brother she never had, and he wanted to change that.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #dark!anthony bridgerton x reader #requested #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x female reader #jonathan bailey #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton drabble #merlieve’s fics ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

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andithewhumper · 2 months

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Experimentations Chapter 1: Nets and Traps

content: avian whumpee, scientist whumper, female whumper, nets, capture

Started this rp a while ago and wanted to post it. I'll be updating regularly. There is a bit of a backlog for this one. :)

Streak was stuck. He wasn't panicking, because obviously everything would be fine. Everything always was, and eventually this would be too. He just couldn't move. Or see. That was the more pressing concern, actually, the seeing part. The net he'd triggered had closed up quite tight, and his wings burritoed him. He couldn't see anything but feathers, and that was a bit of a problem.

"Helllooooooo..." He cried out again, wriggling uselessly. He strained to hear if anything was around, but he couldn't tell. His feathers may have blocked his vision and hearing, but at least they would insulate him if he was still here when night fell. He wouldn't die of exposure, and that was good! Perhaps the only good news he had right now.

---

Dr. Vaughn hadn't wanted to get her hopes up today. The usual migration patterns of the avians in this area dictated that this late in the season it was very unlikely that there were any avians coming through this stretch of forest. When she got the notification that her trap had triggered she was thrilled. She only hoped that it hadn't been triggered by a deer again. When she arrived to the site she held back a gasp. The avian she caught was an adult with large dark brown wings. She couldn't quite tell if the avian was male or female due to the amusing predicament it had gotten itself into. That was until the creature gave out a low cry. Dr. Vaughn smiled. She had caught a male. She imagined he would put up an honorable fight. She pulled down the lever that controlled the trap and watched with intrigue as the net fell from its suspended position. The net, of course, remained firmly trapping the avian.

He let out a shout as he plummeted, his wings straining against the net instinctively, trying to catch him. But it didn't work, and he fell hard, with another shout. It hurt, a lot, but nothing was broken. He flexed his wings, making sure. Bruised, yes, but not broken. "Please, let me out!" He called, figuring someone must be there. "There's been a mistake! I'm not a bird, as I'm sure you can see! I'm an avian!" He wriggled around more, but there wasn't much he could do. Or anything he could do. "I understand the confusion, as I am devastatingly gorgeous and expertly preened-" thank you Loe, "But I am, in fact, sentient, so if you could please cut the net?"

Dr. Vaughn smiled at the avian's cries. She walked over to uncover a cart that was tucked away behind a large tree. She pulled the cart over to the avian and unhooked the latch in the back, making a small click as the metal was freed. She smirked again at the avain's words. He was arrogant, that was for sure. All the better; the arrogant ones were always the loudest. Dr. Vaughn crouched down next to the avian who, despite claiming he was well-preened, was currently a frantic ball of feathers. She reached out and picked up a large feather that had come loose in his struggle. It was a long feather, most likely from the outer wings and, to the avian's credit, was in near perfect condition. It was a chocolatey brown with black accents. Dr. Vaughn smiled, highly pleased with her capture. "Don't worry," Dr. Vaughn said lowly, leaning toward the avian, "I am well aware that you are sentient. I'm a scientist. Rest assured you're in good hands. My name is Doctor Vaughn."

"Cool, very cool," he commented anxiously, still unable to see who it was. "I don't need a doctor, I'm great, I am. So if you can please just let me out-" His struggles renewed and a hand punched through a hole in the net. He waved and laughed awkwardly. "Hi there. Please let me out now." He was running out of patience. "I need to get home now, I've been here a while now and I need to get going." He was worried, he needed to get home. Loe would be worried, he was supposed to be home soon. He was only going out for a fun flight.

Dr. Vaughn chuckled. "You misunderstand me. I am not a medical doctor, I'm a scientist, a researcher if you may." The doctor rolled up her sleeves and grabbed the bottom of the net, then she hoisted the avian into the cart, only straining a small amount despite the weight of the adult male. She situated the ball of feathers carefully in the bed of the cart and latched the gate back. When she stepped away she noticed that the avian had shifted enough that his eye was visible. She leaned down to examine it. His eye was a stunning shade of brown that was widened in confusion. Dr. Vaughn gave him a gleeful smile. "And you won't have to worry about your home. You won't be going back there any time soon."

#avian whumpee #wing whump #scientist whumper #whump

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saintseiya-zone · 1 year

Photo

We’re happy to announce the next SSZ Zine!

The theme will be Asgard and Atlantis-focused and you can participate with fanarts, fanfics, photos and cosplays. Stay updated by joining our Discord!

Sign-up timeframe: 4-18/Jan/2023 (extraordinary sign-up 19-25/Jan)

Sign-up form: here

Character Confirmation list: here

Reference list: here (to check which characters are still available)

Deadline: 21/March/2023 11:59PM Costa Rica time

Description (in text) and FAQ under the cut

[About the Zine]

Description: Among the Saint Seiya factions, Asgard/Bluegraad and Atlantis are often side-lined, so this is SSZ's homage to them. Let’s explore these together!

Participation: You will submit one (1) original, new fanwork (older/already published work is not accepted) to be compiled into a zine. Please do not share your final work until the zine has been properly published by SSZ (you may, however, share WIPs, previews, and/or close-ups as you work on it)

Type: The final compilation of all fanworks will be a free, digital PDF file (no physical versions will be made, no money will be earned or paid)

Character: restricted to one (1) main character per submission for art (other submission types are not restricted). The max. amount of fanarts per applicable character is two (2). Check the Reference list to see who is still available.

The Character Confirmation list will be updated daily at 7 PM (Costa Rica time) until the sign-up period is concluded. We appreciate your patience while this occurs. Once you are added to the list and your character is confirmed, you may start working on your submission.

** Please note this zine does not review/approve/reject sign-ups, everyone is welcome to take part in the activity as long as they sign-up. If there are any issues, we'll get back to you.

Submission: Send via email to [email protected]. The email subject should be "Asgard & Atlantis Zine, [Creator], [character/fic name]", and the file name should be:

Visuals: [Character name] - [Creator]

Fics: [Creator] - [Fic title]. Writers, please also include a 400x400 px image you want us to use in the credits page

Examples

Email Subject: Asgard & Atlantis Zine, El Cadejos, Alioth Fenrir

Fic file: Zeuse - “Encallar”

[About the Submissions]

Art/Photography Canvas size: 300 dpi, JPEG

2480 x 3508 px (portrait orientation) OR

3508 x 4960 px (landscape orientation)

Fics: docx file, prose, it doesn't have to be in English. You must include a title (please keep it short), but it won’t be considered towards final word count

Word count: 2,000 OR 3,500 words (no in-between), as exact as possible

There must be spaces between your paragraphs.

Allowed

Age reinterpretation (e.g., an adult character as a child)

Alternative Universes

Other applicable characters (including OC), please check FAQ

Not allowed

AI-generated content of any kind

Characters that do not belong to the Asgardian/Bluegraadian or Atlantean settings

NSFW/Explicit content (contact staff for case-by-case reviews)

Genderbend

Crossovers

[Frequently Asked Questions]

May I draw whichever character I want? The purpose of this zine is to focus on Asgard/Bluegraad and Atlantis, so only characters that belong to these settings are allowed. There are more applicable characters than you think! Take a look here!

May I submit more than one work? Yes, you can participate with a maximum of two (2) fanworks of different characters, but we’ll confirm case-by-case after the sign-up period is over.

May I include other characters in my submission? Yes, as long as they belong to Asgard/Bluegraad/Atlantis and there is a clear hierarchy where your chosen character is the main focus. Original Characters (OCs) may also be included as long as they follow this guideline. There is no problem if those secondary characters are already taken, or if the mix of characters would not make sense in the official material (for example, Alexer interacting with Hilda).

Which Original Characters (OCs) are applicable? If you have an OC that is a Marina, a God Warrior, an Asgardian/Bluegraadian (in general), or serves under Poseidon (in general), they are welcomed in the zine. However, Saints, Specters, or members of any other factions in Saint Seiya cannot be included.

Saga, Hyoga, Aiolia and Camus can be referred to, but not appear in the fanwork. For example: ✅ Isaak looking at a picture of Camus / Isaak remembering a conversation with Camus ❌ Isaak and Hyoga during training with Camus / Isaak talking to Camus

The sign-up timeframe already passed. Can I still join? The extraordinary period is 19-25/Jan. Please check the Reference list first to ensure the one you want is available, fill out the form, and contact staff (El Cadejos, Zeuse) so we can add you to the list. After this extraordinary period, sign-up will be officially closed.

May I use spinoff characters? Sure! All characters officially included in the Saint Seiya universe for Asgard/Bluegraad and Atlantis (refer to list previously provided) are applicable (except those without an official visual design, like Odin). Please note that even though there are characters with different versions across the franchise (ex: Isaak), they are not counted as different options for the Zine, so if said character is already taken, no other version of them will be available.

I changed my mind about the character I chose, and the new one is still available. Can I switch? To prevent confusion and misunderstandings, all character selections are final and cannot be changed/traded.

Am I allowed to change certain aspects of a character’s official design? It depends on the aspect, and should be reviewed case-by-case.

Example 1: as a Latin American, Io could differ in skin tone to the one seen on the official materials. However, characters like Hagen and Krishna, who have darker skin tones, should not be given lighter tones.

Example 2: if due to a personal headcanon, you believe a character has a certain scar or marking that is not seen in official materials, it can be included, but once again, please reach out to Staff for a case-by-case review.

I’m a writer! What is an acceptable image for the credits page? You can send an official StS work, fanarts (as long as it is made by you, gifted to you, or commissioned by you), or a picrew-generated image (as long as the picrew allows that use)

May I include a watermark on my submission? Yes, we encourage you to submit already watermarked fanworks to the zine, but it is not mandatory.

Do I have to send something for the check-ins? Nope. Our check-ins act as reminders only so you know exactly how much time you have left to send your submission.

#saint seiya #stseiya #SSZ A&A Zine #ssz

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greetings-humans · 7 months

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this has already been said a million times but ig some people never got the memo so here I am.

when a fic updates and it's been a while (be that a month, a semester, a year, multiple years, a fucking decade or maybe several of those) YOU DON'T SUDDENLY GET A FREE PASS TO BE AN ASSHOLE TO THE AUTHOR

some things for your consideration:

the fic author is not paid for this creative effort and also needs to spend time actually supporting themselves financial

the fic author is not a robot that cranks out creative material. breaks are needed, sometimes people leave fandoms and come back much later. it is human and it is natural. some people can't completely obsess over one single fic consistently and also write stuff for it, and thus cannot consistently give you chapters. sometimes, "consistently" also means not as soon as you'd like. please find your brain from the lost and found and realize that if someone is updating and has not abandoned their fic, that is an absolute win and definitely not a given

the fic author is a human being that just so might wanna engage in hobbies and relationships (platonic and/or romantic), which takes time

you should keep in mind that it takes a lot of fucking brainpower to have an idea, like the idea, decide to write the idea, find the time to write the idea, find the inspiration to continue said idea, ACTUALLY FUCKING WRITE THE IDEA, and find it in yourself to publish it

you are entitled to nothing. actually, since I'm a nice, empathetic person, I'll ammend that. the only thing you might be entitled to is an edit at the tags saying 'fyi next chapter is gonna take a while'. you deserve no explanation. I deserve no explanation. if the author comes back after years to update I will go to the comments and tell them how surprised and happy I am and then talk about the fic. be a bit more like that please

if you don't like the updating frequency, consider DOING IT YOUR FUCKING SELF (and talking about it with the fic author if you got inspired by said fic, and definitely giving credit).

if you don't like the updating frequency, consider NOT READING OR COMMENTING ON THE FIC or just maybe READING A DIFFERENT FIC (don't like don't read is always in effect babes, this is fanfiction, if i started saying shit under every fic with a premise that made me grimace I'd have made so many people and myself so upset)

this is not one of those cases where you can make it other people's problem. the author has every right to take as much time as they fucking want. I don't see you writing this exact fic in their exact circumstances, so kindly shut up

okay, for real, though. you can't know. the author could be going through anything, including but not limited to childbirth, divorce, grief, mental health issues, physical health issues, schoolwork (not everyone is an academic genius samantha, let people take their time), friendship/romance drama. they could also, fyi, just wanna take a break. nothing wrong with that. it's actually the recommended course of action to avoid burnout in case you hadn't heard. literally who do you think you are to take an issue with that? their fucking publisher? do you have a deadline to meet harold? is your pay based on this? what was that? no? okay cool then shut it.

how fucking dare you complain about how fast a literal human being with an entire life outside of fanfiction can write literally so many words about something new.

btw this is what inspired all of this

one of my favorite fics updated after... well three months maybe? and I spot this in the comment section as I go to drop my own comment. literally how dare you. do you understand how discouraging and infuriating it is to see some random person say this about your brainchild?? im glad you're liking the fic berryl but if you have an issue with the time between updates, keep it to yourself, read another fic, or write your own fic.

#ao3 #ao3 etiquette #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fan fiction #fic etiquette #fandom #deelay words #(i have a lot of those on this subject as you can see)#rant post #ranting #long post

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jadededge · 1 year

Text

Tear You Apart | Ch.2

Pairing: GOT7 x OC

Genre: Demon/Mafia AU, Romance, Smut

Rating: M

Summary: Jaebeom and Yugyeom are "running an errand" when the most delectable scent that he ever smelled hit Yugyeom like a ton of bricks. Yugyeom stops JayB and soon he smells it. They look across the street and see the her. They stalk her for awhile and finally get the chance to manufacture a meet with her.

Wattpad | AO3 (will likely always update these 2 places first)

Navigation: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

The next week, one of their men reported back to provide all information collected on her. It really was a test for them to not take matters into their own hands following the discovery of their girl. Luckily for them, work was quite busy so they had other things to occupy their minds. But now they could focus on her.

Profile Summary

Name: Selah Stone Age: 28 Occupation: Graphic artist Address: Midtown Lofts, Apt 32 Bank information: Aura Credit Union, Acct #78934 Medical records: Section D Family history: Section E Relationship history: Section F

And so on and so forth.

Got7's reach was far and wide. They were able to learn everything about her. Where she ate, where she got groceries, what bars she frequented. It appears she has no family in this city but quite a few friends, including an ex-boyfriend.

Jaebeom growls handing off the only copy of the file to Jinyoung. "What is it?" Jinyoung questions, opening the file.

"You'll see."

The maknaes gather around Jinyoung to see what has their leader perturbed.

"Ex-boyfriend? No problem, we'll just kill him." BamBam brushes it off.

Youngjae rolls his eyes, "no. Remember what happened before? And hyung just said-"

BamBam cuts him off "I know, I know. We play nice this time." He huffs and walks to sit down "but that's so boring and it takes too long."

He's right, it does take too long but we have to be better. Jaebeom thought. "I need to think before we do anything. And we still have problems to work out with the nightclub acquisition. Is Otto still giving us trouble? We've already started the transition and we have the grand reopening on Friday." He looks to his right hand, Jinyoung.

"He's still being a prick, stalling unnecessarily. Mark and Jackson are at a meeting there now, they should be back soon."

"Send them to my office when they return." He walks away.

"Can I see the file now hyung?" Yugyeom pouts.

"No. I need to dig into this. I'll be in my office." Jinyoung leaves the maknes alone.

Mischief plays in BamBam's eyes. "Want to see her ourselves? I saw where she goes for lunch during work."

"Lets go!" Yugyeom.

Youngjae looks a bit apprehensive. Disobeying Jaebeom was not something he made a habit of but he wanted to see their new mate. "Okay let's go but we only look from a distance."

-----------------------

A knock on the door brings Jaebeom out of his thoughts. "Come in"

Jackson and Mark walk in. "You wanted to see us?" Mark questions taking a seat at one of the chairs in front of Jaebeom's desk.

"Yes. How did the meeting go?"

Jackson scoffs, "it went." Smirking towards Mark. "Things should go smoothly from now on."

Jaebeom chuckles. "I take it he pissed Mark off."

"And did. He's lucky he's in a partnership with our brother legion." Mark's eyes darken.

"So he beat the shit out of him instead of killing him." Jackson laughs.

Mark was always level headed in discussions but he had a nasty temper when pushed too far. They had recently started the process of acquiring a series of nightclubs. They owned just a few already but they needed new spots to do business among other things. Otto, the owner of the nightclubs and member of another legion, didn't want to sell. His constant meddling and procrastination had reached a boiling point at today's meeting.

"I'm sure I'll hear about that from the other leaders. But otherwise good work."

"So about our girl..." Mark trails off.

Jaebeom hands him the file and begins to rattle off his plan.

"I was hoping the acquisition would go smoothly because one of the places she frequents will now be under our empire. Jackson..."

Jackson perks up at the mention of her name.

"I want you to lure her in." Jaebeom orders.

Jackson smirks, "with pleasure."

_________________________

Across town Selah was stepping into the café near her job that she frequented on her breaks. It wasn't huge but still had plenty of space for people to enjoy their food, or work.

Settling at a table in the corner, she feels like she's being watched again but a quick casual glance around doesn't provide any answers. Maybe i'm being paranoid.

"Dude stop." Yugyeom nudges Youngjae with a whisper yell. "You're going to scare her."

Youngjae shoves him off, "shut up, she can't tell its us."

BamBam chuckles, "and you didn't even want to come. God she's beautiful." The other two hum in agreeance. "I'm going to talk to her." He gets up.

The others hum again then they realize what he's doing, trying to stop him in hushed whispers. "Bammie wait-"

"Hi." Bam appears in front of Selah flashing his most charming smile.

Selah looks up and her heart stops. "Oh, um, hi!"

"I'm sorry to disturb your lunch but I saw you when I walked in and I'd regret it the rest of my days if I didn't at least introduce myself." He holds his hand out. "I'm BamBam."

"I'm Selah." She smiles mesmerized. "You're not disturbing me. Please have a seat"

After chatting for awhile, asking the basic 'get to know you' questions, Bam says, "I hate that to cut this short but I should get going. Can I get your number?" ____________________________

Back at the table. "You know, Jaebeomie-hyung is going to throttle him." Yugyeom says to Youngjae.

"Absolutely. But... we came with him." He sighs.

Yugyeom looks at his watch. "Yeah... we're in for it. We should head back."

"But we cant just yank him up from the table."

After what felt like forever, BamBam comes striding back over with a huge smile. The boys exit the café and get in the car to head back home.

"So what happened??" Yugyeom questions from the backseat.

"What's she like??" Youngjae adds in enthusiastically looking to Bam in the passenger seat.. All thoughts of what awaits when their older brothers find out are gone.

"She's perfect. I got her number." He giggles.

Yugy slaps his arm. "Bammie. You are in deep shit. You know that right?" He laughs.

"How are they going to know?"

"I'm not saying anything." Youngjae immediately responds. "Jaebeomie-hyung is already going to strangle me for coming along."

BamBam rolls his eyes, "no he won't. You're his precious baby." Bam pinches YJ's cheek. "You'll be okay. I, on the other hand may be banished."

Pulling up to the house they see Jackson coming out as they walk up.

"Where have you 3 been?" He questions.

Yugy quickly answers, "he had to collect from one of the groups on Canal. They gave one of our guys some problems, so we showed up together."

Jackson eyes them suspiciously as the maknaes try to keep their expressions neutral. "Hm. Okay. Well I'm off to get our girl. Jay B gave me the okay." He beams and walks away before they could say anything.

"Okay yeah. We might all die." Bam says with a 'yikes-my bad' expression. ____________________________________

Later that afternoon, Selah is shopping for dinner at her usual grocery store. She gets the feeling she's being watched again. "Ugh. Seriously whats wrong with me?" She says quietly to herself.

She continues her shopping thinking of her meeting with BamBam earlier. He was really nice, and very handsome. If he does text her, she was resolved to be open to getting to know him. He was intriguing and it had been sometime since she had met someone new that was interesting to her. Just as she rounds the corner she bumps into someone.

"Oop. I'm sorry!" She gains her balance dropping a couple of items out of her basket.

The stranger is already bending down to gather the lost items. "Oh no, its my fault. I'm sorry." He stands and places the items in her basket.

She finally gets a good look at him and Selah is stunned. How was she able to meet two hot guys in one day. "I'm Jackson."

She caught herself staring. "Oh- uh- I'm Selah." She extends her hand.

"Wow. If I knew I would bump into such gorgeous people, I would've tried this store out sooner."

She blushes. Hard. Trying to deflect the attention from herself she asks, "oh are you new to the area?"

"A bit. I don't live here but I just bought a business in the neighborhood, so I've been around. Figured I try it since its close." Placing the items back in her basket. "Making pasta for dinner?"

She chuckles nervously. "Yeah. It's quick and easy. Long day today."

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from finishing your shopping." He chuckles nervously and goes to move.

"Oh it's okay!" I wish we weren't awkwardly in a grocery aisle. She smiles.

"My business is actually a club. We're opening this weekend. It's called Se7en. You should come."

____________

Note: it took me forever to write this and it kinda sucks and went all over the place lol to be honest I've been in a slump especially with this story. I just needed to get over this hump in the plot. I'll do better. Hope you enjoyed :)

#kpop fanfic #got7 smut #got7 jaebeom #got7 fanfic #jb got7 #jinyoung #got7 fanfiction #got7 jb #got7 yugyeom #got7 mark #got7 youngjae #kpop fanfiction #fanfic #romance fanfiction #ao3feed #wattpad

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charmsandtealeaves · 7 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tags @theresthesnitch & @annabtg. I'm finally sitting at my laptop so I can do this (and have given up with the formatting being all over the shop).

How many works do you have on AO3? 72 total, but 31 are currently hidden away in a private collection and can't be seen.

2. What's your total A03 words count?

According to the stats page 308,146 3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just HP 4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? A.) Brown Boots & Breakfast Bagels Rated M, jily AU. Complete Multichapter. Lily’s love life was a tragedy of epic proportions and she had no brilliant strategy. But a chance encounter ends in a one night stand that blows her mind and leaves her wanting more. There’s just one problem… she doesn’t even know his name.

B.) One More Sleep (currently hidden) Rated G, Sirius raising harry oneshot. Three year old Harry Potter is very eager to stay awake and catch Santa Claus delivering him presents.

C.) Call Me By Name Rated E, Jily AU. WIP Multichapter. After a not-so-great breakup with a not-so-great boyfriend, Lily comes to the conclusion that if you want something done right you have to do it yourself. Whether mechanically, hydraulically, or auditorily? She WILL find the key to that currently unreachable pleasure.

D.) Evans Guide To Quidditch (and seducing James Potter) Rated M, Hogwarts Jily, oneshot. It had all started out innocently enough, a small wager between housemates on the outcome of the Arrows Vs Catapults game over the weekend. Lily hadn't intended to let slip she knew more about quidditch than she was letting on. Or to set up a fantasy quidditch league with James, but well... what's the harm?

E.) Stripped Back To Basics Rated M, Jily AU, oneshot collab with @athenasparrow In which Petunia probably regrets telling Lily to "put herself out there." Or: A Jily "Naked Attraction" AU (YES NAKED ATTRACTION IS A REAL SHOW!!!)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I used to respond to some comments, but these days I try to respond to everyone who comments even if it's just an emoji as a like "hi yes thank you for your comment I see you I just don't know what to say!"

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angtiest ending? I don't know if I've ever written an angst ending... nothing springs to mind anyway. 7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I think most of my fics end up with happy endings or at the very least open hopeful endings.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I wouldn't call it hate... but I did once get a couple of people debating in my comment section that Lily couldn't be friends with Sirius before dating James because it would be "taking away from jily's relationship"

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind? I don't really understand the second half of the question, but yes I do write smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Nope

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I don't know if stolen is the right term, but there was a period years ago where some on my one-shots kept being posted on Instagram. Sometimes with credit, others not. 12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I'm aware of.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Yes! and I would love to do it again. I did Stripped Back to Basics with @athenasparrow and june jilychallenge Ice Breaker with @jamesunderwater

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? This will surprise no one, jily. 15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Previously I would have said the fic I started over a decade ago... but I am actively trying to finish it and it is one of my publishing WIPs (we're gonna ignore the fact it's in desperate need of an update). It is currently publishing under a new name tho: Wake Me Up (When September Ends)

16. What are your writing strengths? I manage to sprinkle a little humour into most of my fics.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Sticking to an update schedule... even though I always start with the best of intentions.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I don't think I've ever done it but I can barely English to be fair. I don't mind it in other peoples fics.

19. First fandom you wrote for? HP

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? I answered this as Stripped Back To Basics yesterday... I'm struggling to like my writing at the moment. But I enjoyed this first ever collaborative project and now Athena is a much beloved friend. tagging (and apologising if you've already been tagged): @merlins-sequined-hotpants, @uncertainwallflower, @practicecourts, @abihastastybeans

#charms was tagged

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synthaphone · 1 year

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i probably should have posted this before applications opened and closed recently, but i got burned pretty bad by my experience with moderneo, in particular their community management, so i’m not likely to recommend it for other people to join. i’ve said this before i think, but i don’t bring it up often- some lovely people have made some great custom art assets for the site, so i don’t want to discredit their hard work, and i know other friends and mutuals have been having a fun time there and i don’t wanna rain on their parade. i also don’t wanna look petty about stuff that happened a couple years ago.

my tldr advice is: don’t pay for an account there, because its not worth it. if you wanna sign up when applications are open again, its possible to have some fun there with the custom pet species and colors, but i would avoid the discord server.

anyway if you’re interested, these were my issues:

the mods and site runner’s ‘No Drama’ policies that would come down harshest on whoever spoke up about a problem (people getting called bullies for asking a user to stop making fat jokes was a memorable example)

the site runner won’t replace even the worst of the old racist site assets, even with placeholder images, because nobody can agree on the best way to do it. so they’re just. still there. and he doesn’t personally see the problem or really want to change them. i guess they hue shifted the green witch halloween pets to purple though

the site runner responding very poorly to my request that he not make a lynching joke, saying I was the racist for finding it racially insensitive, and only apologizing after multiple people patiently explained the connotations to him

everyone acting like i was crazy and overreacting for saying that it was creepy as hell that there was a guy my age, going on about how sexy 15 year old mega man characters were, just going around unquestioned in the discord server (a few months later they were finally banned because a callout from the mega man fandom surfaced that backed up what i was saying even further, and also that this person had a history of stalking)

they have blocked other creepy people since then, to their credit. however, i feel like those people were pointed out very quickly, before they had time to interact with the site runner and other people and establish themselves in the community- the person i pointed out had been very talkative and had made friends before revealing things like ‘having a self insert to ship with the 8 year old from paw patrol’, so they sided with him when i said his behavior and artwork was creepy

those were my biggest bad experiences. but like. it also has less html5 games than grundos.cafe and virtu.pet (they’re also buggier earlier builds- the site runner either no longer has access to the newer updates and games that the grundos devs share, or isn’t interested in implementing them), albums were never implemented and are unlikely to be added anytime soon, the site runner has a patreon for the site but has largely stopped updating anything, all while only accepting new members through patreon payments for the majority of the year (also i think applications are closed indefinitely now?? so it might be the only way to join now???)

oh also the economy is really really bad

#i don't know how to tag this but like #warning for racism and a dude being creepy about child cartoon characters #i guess #i need a text post tag

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bigprettygothgf · 1 year

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unbox thread

box 1: bigbadtoystore pile of loot

actually the one i spent the least amount of money on since all i had to pay for was tax and shipping everything else was already paid for and the last thing i added was thru store credit. been waiting to ship since december

first off: even more diorama setpieces. im worried this company has disbanded because there hasnt been any updates since last year and a lot of their product has sold out on most sites, including everything here. the top box i only got because i happened to catch one that went up after someone presumably cancelled their order, i had to cancel my siege sky lynx reissue to pay for it bc i didnt have another $80 lying around but this was far more important since im not sure ill ever be able to get it again. its already kinda hard to find info on these smaller chinese companies so i guess ill have to wait and see but i hope their line is continuing because i fucking love these sets. anyways

kämpfer to build later, my favorite mobile suit, knowing me this will either get built like tonight or in like 6 months

siege optimus, this has randomly restocked on several sites so its either uncovered old stock or a new production run. either way recently ive been trying to collect a more cohesive g1 autobot collection since i realised compared to my decepticons their situation is kinda (really) dire. earthrise optimus has risen up by a bit on the aftermarket but i think that version looks way worse and vastly preferred this version anyways so idc, if i later decide i *really* need a trailer ill look elsewhere

got the siege jetfire reissue, as prev mentioned i was gonna get the sky lynx reissue too but had to cancel him. will get that later, he seems a lot more abundant than jetfire is

i really love him. only thing i dont like is the hand gimmick where a 3mm port flips out whenever the fingers are closed because theyre loose and cause his guns to just kinda flop around but its whatever. and also the jet mode is gappy and ugly but its hard to make a good toy out of a design that fundamentally was clearly drawn by someone that did not give a shit lol so idc its fine still

g2 ramjet, one of my favorite 90s neon nightmare recolors, clearly the basis for slipstream. got on sale for like $25 back before bbts made the horrible decision to not allow sale items to be added to stack

addon kit for legacy scourge, i still have massive problems with that toy but this will help. a bit. i thought they sent me the wrong kit at first bc the box still showed laser prime and was panicking since this set is sold out now lol but i opened it and sure enough its correct, guess they saw no sense in redoing the box since its just a variant

more neca alien/predator, i do love the avp arcade game aesthetic, sucks that anime dutch is the only dutch you can get now that wont cost you a kidney but what can you do

and finally my most important acquisition

bf1 spam

#long post #my pics #my stuff

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summersnow82 · 6 months

Text

Somethin Bad - Part 19

Author's Note: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter up. I will be finishing this story. Life just keeps getting in the way. Thanks for sticking with me. @durorholmes - this chapter is for you!

Part 19

Patience had never been one of Annabelle’s virtues. Frank and Darlene had her convinced Travis only needed a night or two to think things over before he’d come back for her. It had been three days, and Travis hadn’t so much as called.

She was starting to get pissed off.

Thankfully, her accommodations were better than normal. Darlene’s home had been in the family since the Civil War, consistently updated and well cared for while still maintaining the historical charm. The home was a lavish two-story build with columns, tons of windows, and a charming wrap-around porch. Inside, the original flooring had been carefully maintained, and small details like the sconces reminded the owners of their rich heritage. Darlene had carefully decorated with a flurry of antiques and heirlooms, while updating the kitchen and bathrooms to a more modern taste.

Annabelle loved it. She currently lay on the four poster solid chestnut bed trying not to worry or feel sorry for herself. Darlene and Frank had gone above and beyond to make Annabelle feel at home, and they’d been kind enough to keep the personal questions to a minimum. Darlene had taken full advantage of having a female companion with time on her hands, and had dragged Annabelle to North Kill’s beauty parlor and salon for a “day of lady luxury,” as she called it. It was hard to feel bad for yourself when your nails were polished like gems, your makeup was flawless, and your hair was styled like a 1940s pinup model. Darlene had insisted on shopping afterwards, and now Annabelle had half a dozen bags in her room with new clothes and accessories.

“I can’t take it with me, sweetheart,” Darlene had said, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she handed her credit card over to the store clerk. “Besides, you need something more than Travis’ flannel shirts and stretch pants to wear. I take it this was an unplanned visit?”

“Very much so,” Annabelle admitted, ducking her head to hide her shame – her pride was currently at war with her gratitude, which was another common problem thanks to her time traveling.

She sighed, swinging her feet off the side of the bed now. She couldn’t lie in her room all day; maybe she could help cook dinner or do something to show her gratitude. If she could find something to do, something to preoccupy her thoughts perhaps it would be easier to figure out how to deal with the coming full moon and Constance Hackett’s clear insanity. Anything was better than thinking about why Sean hadn’t reached out yet, and how Travis could so easily pretend she didn’t exist.

------------

“You can’t stay here anymore.”

That’s what Travis had said the night of his confession to Sean; the same night he’d cast Annabelle out of his home. He knew he couldn’t go home that night, either. He blamed it on the alcohol, but he knew it was because he couldn’t face the place now that he’d sent Annabelle away. Despite his reasoning, he still felt guilty for how he’d left her. The least he could do for her now was keep Sean safe from his parent’s murderous intent.

The alcohol had loosened his tongue as he paced his office floor. Sharing his story had ignited a determination in him to fix something, anything within his control, and this he could control. Sean watched him pace back and forth, working through options before he spoke again. “I know a place,” he finally said, grabbing his keys and his jacket.

Sean didn’t move. “You’ve been drinking.”

Travis arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you serious?” Sean’s expression said he was. Travis sighed. “Look, you can risk the car with me, or you can risk my family coming back here later tonight.”

Sean pursed his lips, exhaling deeply. “Fine,” he reluctantly announced. His body language and tone told Travis it was anything but fine, but this was the lesser of two evils.

Sean wasn’t sure where he was expecting Travis to take him – maybe a cabin deeply hidden in the woods, or a seedy motel, but a historic Catholic church was not on his list. Saint Christopher’s Blessed Trinity of North Kill had fallen into some disarray over the years, but it was still stunning with intricate detail.

“Saint Christopher’s the patron saint of travelers,” Travis replied, killing the ignition. “Thought you’d appreciate the irony.”

A small chuckle left Sean before he said, “I always preferred Saint Jude.” He cast his eyes to the Sheriff. “Patron saint of lost causes.”

The two men were silent as they approached the church. Travis took the lead, heading towards the back of the building. The back door of the church was unlocked, a testament to either the trust of the priest or his faith in the citizens of North Kill. Travis ushered Sean in, leading him to a back room in the darkened halls.

“You know your way around,” Sean said softly.

Travis made a small noise in the affirmative, closing yet another door behind him before he pulled out his flashlight. “I spent quite a lot of time here growing up. Thought about joining the priesthood at one point, too, but Ma wasn’t very supportive of that idea.” He grimaced at the thought. “This church dates back to the Civil War era. It’s been used to hide, protect, and offer sanctuary for countless people – a fact the former priest shared after Evie…,” he trailed off, casting the glow of his flashlight in the direction of the bookshelves lining the wall. “Now let’s see,” he murmured to himself, moving forward to run his hand along the wooden shelves. “Frank said it was even used in the Underground Railroad.” Travis paused for a moment, then turned back to Sean. “Is that a thing where you come from?”

Sean nodded, his silence heavy. “So your folks don’t know about this?”

Travis went back to searching. “Not a bit. I think the only reason Frank ever told me was in case Evie or I needed to run.” He shrugged. “At least it’s helping someone now. Ah!” The excitement in Travis’ voice and a small, but firm click told Sean he’d found the release mechanism, and the bookshelf pushed forward. “There we go. C’mon.”

The enthusiasm in Travis’ voice died the second the lights flicked on. Both men whirled to see an older man glowering at them, his hat clutched firmly between his hands.

“Frank,” Travis gasped.

“You two wanna tell me what you’re doing in my church at this hour?” The scowl on Frank’s face read as disappointment and frustration more than proper anger, but Sean remained silent, waiting on Travis to take the lead. “Dagnabbit, Travis, I showed you this in confidence. What’re you doing skulking around here in the dark like a common thief?”

Sean blinked. “You thought we were thieves?”

Frank gave him a withering stare. “Of course. Figured they could take what little I had instead of risking the defilement of the Lord’s House. And you are, son?”

“Ummm,” Sean said dumbly, not missing the sudden smug look on Travis’ face. Sean wasn’t used to feeling dumb; he was used to Annabelle doing most of the talking when they were in sticky situations. She was good at it. Travis, despite his earlier surprise, seemed to be enjoying this off moment for the younger man.

“Frank,” Travis began, and the older man turned his withering gaze to the Sheriff.

“You’ll remember where you are before you answer that question, son.”

Travis sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Frank.”

“My name is Sean, sir. Sean Landers.”

Frank arched a brow. “You a new officer?” He asked, motioning towards the uniform Sean still wore.

“Not… exactly, sir.”

“Frank, I can’t explain, but I need you to trust me,” Travis said, holstering his flashlight. “He needs a safe place.”

Frank cast a look between the two men, crossing his arms over his chest as he debated Travis’ words. Finally he said, “This have anything to do with your folks?”

Travis nodded, his thin lips pulled in a tight grimace. “Yes, sir.”

“What about Alice?” He cast his eyes over to Sean when he said the name, studying him carefully.

Travis sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Frank pursed his lips, nodding his head just a touch. “Her name really Alice?”

Sean couldn’t tell if Travis was ashamed or forlorn, so he spoke up. “Her name is Annabelle Harris, sir. She’s my sister, and we’re in a bit of tight spot.”

Frank took the new information with stride, carefully studying both men. “I’ll say you are. Constance Hackett’s got her eye on that girl. Maybe she should be the one hiding in here instead of you.” He was silent for a moment before slowly asking, “Does this have anything to do with the fire six years ago?” Travis’ head snapped up, and Frank nodded, clucking his tongue. “What about the upcoming full moon?” It was Sean’s turn to look surprised.

“How… ?”

“I may be old, boys, but I’m not dumb. I’ve lived in North Kill most of my life; the town’s not that big. People talk. Some listen. Fewer observe.” He paused, his gaze softening at he looked back over at Travis. “You haven’t been the same since, son. Been… off. Tired – no, exhausted. Constantly. Every full moon you get on edge, and the day after you’re plum worn out. But mainly,” he paused, releasing a heavy sigh. “Mostly, I just see the hope and faith slip further and further away in you and your kin. That’s no way to live.”

Travis cast his gaze to the ground. “So you’ll help us?” Sean asked quietly, and Frank nodded, still watching the Sheriff.

“I will. Just tell me what you need.” He paused for a moment, as if he’d just had a brilliant idea. “And you c’mon over tomorrow night for supper, Travis. You owe your lady friend a proper apology.”

---------------------

Annabelle should’ve known something was up with the way Darlene and Frank flitted around the house the next day, fusing over her, insisting she wear the lovely yellow blouse with the frilled collar, and the emerald green skirt that twirled around Annabelle’s calves. Darlene was taking extra pains to make the house smell warm and inviting, while giving Frank hushed instructions anytime Annabelle came into view.

So when the doorbell rang it shouldn’t have surprised Annabelle how Frank called from the kitchen, asking her to get the door for them.

It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. So did seeing Travis standing there in a clean pair of dress slacks, a stiff white button-down shirt, and a charcoal gray suit jacket. The look on his face when he saw her was one of pure surprise, and she might have relished it more if her anger hadn’t gotten the better of her. Her lips twisted in a defiant purse, and with a flick of her wrist she was slamming the front door in the Sheriff’s face.

Annabelle spun on her heel, her green skirt flowing around her, and began marching away from the door when Darlene popped her head out of the dining room. “Darling, don’t slam the door the poor fellow,” she said, examining two different stems of glassware. “You can’t see him grovel through the wood.” Annabelle froze, blinking at the older woman. She’d already come to admire and adore Darlene over the past few days, but a new respect was growing within her. The older woman looked up, flashing Annabelle a dazzling grin before nodding in the direction of the front door. Annabelle sighed reluctantly, and spun back around, swinging the door open with a flourish.

Travis was still standing on the porch, an eyebrow arched so high she could hear the sass before he opened his mouth.

...so she slammed the door in his face again. Just for good measure.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the entryway mirror. Her hair was still curled and coiffed, her makeup still pristine, and she looked better than she’d seen herself look in a long time. If she was going to deal with Travis better to do it looking like this.

She swung the door open again, thrusting a hand against the door jamb, ultimately blocking his path. She arched a brow, tilted her chin up a touch, and said, “You made me ruin a perfectly good roast.”

Annabelle didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but clearly it wasn’t a reference to food. His brow furrowed in confusion, and she stepped over the threshold, surprising him further as she advanced into his personal space. His eyes widened a touch, and he took a step back. She reached out, grabbing his jacket lapels and pulled him back to her. “Where is Sean?”

#the quarry travis #the quarry #ted raimi #travis hackett #ao3 fanfic #fan fiction #annabelle harris #sean landers #north kill #my ocs #travis x oc #patron saint #ao3 writer #sorry for the delay #time travel #somethin bad #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #idiots flirting

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