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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

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Slashers Toy Story!AU

Or, *cough* a way for me to write out a buncha funny Incorrect Quotes and smoosh two things I love together.

Woody: Jason Voorhees

Buzz Lightyear: Michael Myers

Jessie: Ghostface

Prospector/Stinky Pete: Roman Bridger

Bo Peep and Ham: Freddy Krueger

Mr Potato Head: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray

Mrs Potato Head: Tiffany Valentine

Slinky: Carrie White

Rex: Bubba Sawyer

Barbie: Jennifer Check

Ken: Patrick Bateman

Lotso-'O'-Huggin' Bear: Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt. Was gonna be Bo, but Hoyt just fits way better. Plus he has Thomas.

Chuckles: Monty

Big Baby: Thomas hewitt

The Chatter Telephone: Luda Mae Hewitt

Also, Sunnydale Daycare: Ambrose. Because why not.

*I'm thing the kids in Toy Story are the fanbase and creators of the Slashers in this AU. Like, Andy and Bonnie are the original creators that make up the canon stuff and created them to be the infamous characters we all know- and Sid is us fan-people that twist and distort the characters for our own pleasure, haha XD *

An abundance of Incorrect Quotes bellow the cut!

Chucky: *With all the features on his face mismatched*

Chucky: Hey Freddy, look! I'm Picasso!

Freddy: ... yeah, I don't get it. *Leaves*

Chucky: *what... * You uncultured swine!! *Shakes his fist at Freddy's retreating back. That was a good fucking joke, goddamn.*

Michael: *Writing down on whiteboard:* Excuse me... I think the word you're searching for is

THE SHAPE.

Jason: *Already so done with this edgy boy's bullshit*

Jason: *Moves attention to his own whiteboard, starts writing*

Jason: *Shows board*

NO. The word I'm 'searching for', I cant say, because there are preschool toys present.

*Gestures ferociously to Carrie and Bubba.*

Jason: *Ughhhh. Shows board that he frantically wrote on:* Its not a KNIFE! Its a little stick of plastic!!

Freddy: What's wrong with him??

Chucky: Knife envy~

Freddy: Ah been there

Jason and Michael: *Watching Dr Loomis give psychology advice*

Jason and Michael: *Slowly tilting their heads sceptically, in unison*

Michael: *Holds up board for Jason to read:* ... I don't think that man has ever been to medical school.

Jason: *Trying to get Michael to help him. Writes passive aggressively on board and shoves the thing in Michael's view:* Would you give me a hand!???

Michael: *Fucking slices his own arm off and chucks it at Jason*

Look, he's having a bad day...

Freddy: *Sneaks up on Jason and digs his fingers into the giants sides*

Jason: *Whips around and cracks Freddy in the face from shock*

Jason: *Realises its just Freddy as the other groans and holds his nose, and looks a little guilty. Oh, Freddy. Writes on board and shows him:* There's gotta be a less painful way to get my attention.

Freddy: Agh- Fucking- Merry Christmas, hockey puck!

Jason: *Catches sight of something above them, tilts his head. Writes and shows board:* Isn't that mistletoe?

Freddy: *A slow, creepy grin rips across his face* Yep.

~ Toy Stoy 2~

Jason: *Frantically holding up a board:* Michael! I was a yo-yo!

Freddy and Chucky: *Look at each other*

Chucky: 'Was'?

*Michael and the others watching a dude try to buy Jason and failing.*

Michael: *Thinking: Mm, now just walk away.*

Man: *Follows after where Jason went.*

Michael: *Thinking: ... the other way.*

*After Jason has been stolen- everyone is panicking*

Michael: *Stomping his foot, trying to gather these psychopaths' attentions. Wait a minute! Wait, hold on! When he semi has their attention, he shows a piece of paper with writing on it:* This is not time to be hysterical.

Freddy: Its the perfect time to be hysterical.

Bubba: *Gasp. Should we be hysterical!?*

Carrie: *Tries to calm Bubba down, a hand on his arm and voice gentle* No-

Chucky: Yes.

Michael: *Thinking: ... well, maybe*

Freddy: Give this to Jason when you find him

Freddy: *SMACKS MICHAEL UPSIDE THE HEAD*

Michael: ... *Holds up board* Alright. But I don't think it'll mean the same thing coming from me.

Freddy: *Up ahead* Hey guys! Why did the toys cross the road!?

Michael: *But rolls his eyes. Not now bacon bits.*

Bubba: *Perks up and waives. Oh! He loves riddles. Why?*

Freddy: To get to the chicken... on the other side!

*They all look out and celebrate, seeing where Jason was being kept hostage... but then realise how dangerous getting across will be as a giant fricken truck careens by and crushes a can the same size as them*

Bubba: ... *Promptly turns around and starts walking back the way they came. Oh well. We tried-*

Michael: *Grabs Bubba back*

Jennifer: I can help! I'm Tour Guide Jen!

Jennifer: Please keep your hands, arms and accessories inside the car, and no flash photography! Thanks.

Chucky: -I'm a married man, I'm married man, I'm married man-

Freddy: *Shoves Chucky out of the way* Then make room for the single fellas.

Michael: *Ugh. Writes on board:* They're on level 23.

Carrie: How are we gonna get up there?

Bubba: *Gestures to balloons, then up to the sky. Meaning: Maybe if we find some balloons, we could float to the top!*

Chucky: Are you kidding? I say we stack ourselves up, push the intercom, and pretend we're delivering a pizza.

Freddy: How bout a roast? *Grins*

Freddy: *Assesses Chucky and Carrie in turn* With tenderised pig and a slaughtered lamb as sides.

Chucky: Hold the fuck up did you just call me a pig- and a side-

Carrie: What?

Bubba: Oh! Oh! *Pats his chest excitedly. Do him! What about me??*

Freddy: ... Eh, you can be the toy that comes with the meal.

*Michael does something to get them all hurt and doesn't to care at all, of course. Just moves on.*

Chucky: Remind me to glue his mask on his head when we get back.

Freddy: *Nods, yep*

Chucky:*Embracing Tiffany after having been away saving Jason*

Glen and Glenda: You saved our lives! We're eternally grateful!

Chucky: Oh, fuck...

Tiffany: You saved their lives, Chucky?? Oh, my hero.

Tiffany: *Immediately drops Chucky in favour of picking up the babies* And they're adorable! Lets adopt them!

Chucky: *Thinking: What? No- Absolutely not- Don't say tha-*

Glen and Glenda: Daaaaddy!

Chucky: Fuck.

~Toy Story 3~

Jason: *Holds up a sign as he stands there menacingly with his machete:* You got a date with justice, Charles.

Chucky: Heh, too bad, 'sheriff'. I'm a married man.

Tiffany: *Comes out screaming, wielding goddamn nun chucks*

Michael: *Eyes narrow behind mask, slowly holds up sign he prepared earlier:* Bastard son of a hundred maniacs.

Freddy: Hah. That's Mr Bastard son of a hundred maniacs, to you!

*The toys/Slashers watch some toys, including Jennifer and her car get thrown in the donation bin*

Ghostface: Oh, man, poor Jen.

Freddy: ... I get the corvette.

Tiffany: Its alright, Jen, it'll be okay.

Jennifer: Well... Needy and I have been growing apart for a while...

Jennifer: Its just... I cant believe she would kill me!

Chucky: *Who's 'best friend till the end'/victim also killed him* Yeah. Welcome to the club, toots.

Hoyt: They just love new toys, don't they?

Chucky: Love!? We've been chewed, kicked, drooled on-

Tiffany: Just look at my nails!

Hoyt: ... Hm. Well, here's the thing, sweetheart. You aint leavin' Ambrose.

Tiffany: *Thinking: Oh fuck no he did not just- * Sweetheart!? Who do you think you're talking to!? I have over 10 kills, and I deserve more respec-

Hoyt: *Covers Tiffany's mouth with his hand* Ah, that's better.

Chucky: *Thinking: I'm going to fuck this douche up- * Hey, no one takes my wife's mouth. *Shoves Hoyt back off her by the chest* 'Cept me.

*Hoyt and Thomas bring Chucky back from 'The Box'. He's more fucked up looking then usual, sand all through his hair and stuck to his plastic features. He shakes it out of his pockets.*

Tiffany: *Gasp* Sweetheart!

Chucky: Eugh... it was cold. And dark. Nothin' but sand and a couple of Lincoln logs.

Freddy: Ehhh... I don't think those were Lincoln logs.

Ghostface: I was wrong...

Chucky:

Chucky: Ghostface is right. He was wrong.

Jennifer: *Fake cries*

Chucky: *Slaps a Pidgeon*

*Trying to reset Michael back to his former settings/self (The one that knows them and therefore will maybe-perhaps-possibly not kill them*

Freddy: Oh- oh- oh, here we go. there should be a little hole under the switch.

Jason: *Little hole little hold little hole- Nods. Got it!*

Freddy: To reset your Michael Myers action figure, insert paper clip-

Jason: *Sharply turns to Bubba, urging him to put his finger in the hole quickly*

Freddy: Caution; Do not hold button for more then five seconds...

Michael: *Suddenly stops thrashing and goes slack*

Everyone: ...

Bubba: *Jumps off him, holding up his hands. Its not my fault!!*

Michael, on Spanish Mode: *Gives Jason two sweet kisses on either cheek*

Jason: *Awkwardly, slowly holds up sign:* We gotta switch him back.

Ghostface: Oh! Mikey!!

Michael, still on Spanish Mode: *Sees Ghostface*

Michael: *Drops to his knees, gathers up Ghostface's hand*

Michael: *Looks up at Ghostface in utter awe and admiration*

Ghostface: *Freaken freaked out. Shouldn't he be the creepy one in this outfit? Leans away* Uhh... did you fix Michael?

Freddy: Uh, sorta. I mean I for one think this is a huge improvement.

Michael, STILL on Spanish Mode: *Does a dance of feelings around Ghostface, wanting to express himself*

Ghostface: What- why- please stop I'm gonna pee myself- Of laughter or fear I have no idea but I WILL PEE

Michael: *Grabs and dips Ghostface, and holds up a sign* We will be the most famous killers in history, together.

Ghostface: *Thinking: Oh I can get behind that, hell yeah- *

Jason: *Arrives*

Ghostface: Oh- *Scrambles out of Michaels hold* JASE!

Michael: *Watches them move on together* *Throws down the sign*

Freddy: I suddenly feel disgusting, like... I somehow ended up in some kinda... love-square, of some kind...

Jason: *Nicely gestures for Michael to give him some help*

Michael, stillllllll on Spanish mode: *Sniffs his nose at Jason's hand, shoving him out of the way with one arm like no thank you.*

Jennifer: Authority should derive from the consent of the governed. Not from the threat of force! // Or, alternatively which I think fits a whole lot better- // I am not going to stand back here and let another fucking old white guy tell me what the fuck to do!

Chucky and Freddy, two old white guys: *Look at each other*

Chucky:

Freddy:

Chucky and Freddy: *Shrug*

And that's it seeing as I don't really wanna see Toy Story 4. I hope you enjoyed this silly thing with me at least a little XD

Okay so I got a little attached in the end.

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

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Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

#CherryLaneChallenge #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej!#tw self harm #tw attempted suicide #tw blood #happy October!#I’m so excited!#I’m gonna try to do all of this but I’m real busy coming up!#im not sure what vibe I’m goin got in this challenge #but I think it’s mostly haunting?#not scary but like that oh moment y’know

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 3 years

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Rewind Chapter 4 - Fiddleford to the Rescue

Stan started when there was a sharp knocking at the front door. He hadn’t thought anyone was coming – but evidently Ford had known, because he jumped up to let them in. The person who stepped inside was a twig of a man, carrying a duffel bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The guy looked pretty tired – sorta like those people who sometimes slept under the jetty with bloodshot eyes and cans scattered around them. But this man didn’t reek of beer and cigarettes. Blue eyes darted around behind thick glasses before landing on Stan and softening.

“Ah. This is your brother, I ‘spect?” The stranger spoke with a thick accent. Stan hadn’t heard an accent like his before.

“Yes. Thank you for coming.” Ford was a flurry of motion, darting here and there and packing things in a big shoulder bag. “I need to go, I have to get this barrier up as soon as possible. I should be back by this evening. There’s food in the fridge, I’m not sure what bills I’ve paid recently so there may or may not be hot water, and Stanley, behave!”

With that Ford disappeared, the front door slamming behind him. Stan froze, voice squeaking in a totally cool and manly way.

“Wait – Ford? Where are you-”

Yeah, he was already gone. Leaving Stan alone with this strange man. Stan stood self-consciously in the middle of the lounge, hyper aware of those eyes on him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

The stranger broke the silence first, kneeling down to be at eye-level with Stan. “You must be Stanley. I guess Ford forgot ta introduce us. Wouldn’t be the first thing ‘e forgot.” The guy smiled a slightly crooked smile and held out one hand. “I’m Fiddleford, an old… friend of ya brother’s. I’m here to look after ya for a while. Is that okay?”

“…I guess so.” Stan stepped forward hesitantly to shake the man’s hand. Despite its thinness his hand was rough and calloused, worn with work. His smile was infectious and Stan found himself mirroring it. “You can call me Stan. Everyone does.”

“Well then, you can call me Fidds.” Fiddleford’s bright eyes combed over him for a moment before the man started riffling through his duffel bag. “Now, I got some old clothes of my son’s that I figure will fit better than that shirt. You wanna give it a shot?”

Stan nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Who’s your son? Is he coming too?”

“No, Tate’s in California right now.” The man lifted a couple items of clothing. “Alright, let’s take a looksee at what we got.”

Stanford’s little brother was cute as a button. Well, twin brother apparently, not that that made much of a difference right now. The boy was all gap-toothed grins and twinkling eyes and curious questions. Fiddleford let him choose some clothes he liked – a pirate shirt and a pair of faded yellow shorts – and helped the little kid get dressed. Stan chatted excitedly the whole time.

“S’weird! I just woke up here yesterday and Ford was all old. He’s grumpier now too. So if this is the future how do we know you? When do I meet you? We probably haven’t met yet while I’m this age right? No, I think I’d remember seein’ you even if you were a kid like me! You got a mem-or-ab-le nose. Kinda like mine!” Stan poked his own pink nose to demonstrate. “’Cept mine and Ford’s are wide and yours is long. Does your son have the same nose?”

Fiddleford laughed and slipped the shirt over the squirming boy’s head. There were so many questions, he figured he’d try and answer them in order.

“Ford is grumpy now, isn’t he? And I’m a friend of Ford’s from college. This is the first time we’ve met at all, so you wouldn’t know me even as an adult with all yer memories. And Tate does have my nose, unfortunately.”

Stan blinked up at him owlishly. Fiddleford smoothed down his ruffled cowlick. “So… you know Ford but not me? Why doesn’t future-me know you?” Then Stan shook his head with a smile. “You said college, right? I bet that’s why! Pa says I’m too stupid for college. But o’course Ford got in. He’s real smart, ya know!” The kid finished proudly. Fiddleford hesitated.

“Your father says…” Stanford hadn’t spoken much of his family. Fiddleford was starting to see why. The idea of a man telling his son – his son who couldn’t be any older then twelve – that he was stupid filled his chest with fire.

Fiddleford tried to stamp out the anger before Stan could see it on his face. No sense in scaring the child. Instead he changed the subject, carefully poking at one of Stan’s hands.

“So, ya got hands like ya brother’s?”

“Oh, no, I just got the borin’ five fingers.” Stan waggled his fingers to demonstrate.

“Really?” Well that was interesting. “But yer practically identical otherwise! Well, I guess it makes sense that yer not totally the same, seein’ as you don’t have the same eyesight anyway.”

“Oh, we do.” Stan chirped, leaving Fiddleford flabbergasted.

“But ya don’t have glasses!”

“Oh yeah, I don’t need em ‘cause I’m not smart.” Stan’s smile faltered for a moment before recovering. “Pa says glasses are expensive and Ford needs his, so I don’t. Hey, you got glasses too! You must be smart.”

Fiddleford once again tried very hard to not let his anger show. He must not have done a very good job, because Stan shrank back.

“Er – I’m sorry?”

Darn it, and he’d been trying to get the little tyke to trust him! Fiddleford forced an apologetic smile on his face.

“You got nothin’ to apologize for. I was just thinkin’ I’d like to have a word with yer brother when he gets back.”

Stan still looked dubious, so Fiddleford tried another strategy.

“You know, I reckon Ford’s gotta have a spare set of glasses lying around. Do you wanna look for ‘em, borrow ‘em for a while? The prescription should be close enough. I got some old books a’ Tates you might like and it’ll be easier if you can see ‘em.”

Stan twisted his hands together. “I dunno. Ford got pretty mad when I messed with his stuff before.”

“He’ll be fine. Besides, I’m just as adult as him. I think I can make decisions without that worrywart around.”

Just as Fiddleford had thought he would, Stan laughed. “Yeah, he is a worrywart! An’ Ford’s let me borrow his glasses before when we were switchin’ clothes to play a prank on Crampelter. So he can’t get mad now!”

The kid seemed to have immediately forgotten about his upset. That made Fiddleford’s smile come a little easier, a little warmer.

“Well, now that that’s settled, how about we go look for those glasses? And we’ll see if you like any a’ these books. Ya feel like learnin’ about isopods?”

“I have no idea what that is!” Stan whooped.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

_______________________________________________________________

It was nice, Fiddleford reflected, having a child around. He hadn’t interacted with kids since he’d last seen Tate. How long ago had that been…?

Fiddleford made sandwiches for lunch, and they ate while flipping through picture books. Stan especially liked the one with krill and whale sharks. Then the kid had started telling delightful stories about old ships and adventures on Glass Shard Beach, and who was Fiddleford to interrupt?

By evening Stan had worn himself out, and Fiddleford made him a cup of hot chocolate while he decided what to fix for dinner. Of course Ford had little in the way of food. There was some frozen and tinned stuff, but little in the way of healthy foods. Stanford was terrible at taking care of himself.

Fiddleford glanced out of the window at the ever-darkening sky. Sure, he was still hopping mad at Stanford, but… he couldn’t help but worry. Not when the man had been gone all day in the snow. And when his adorable little brother was getting antsy.

“Fidds, when’s Ford gettin’ back?” Stan whined, right on time. “You said he’d be back soon.”

Fiddleford busied himself with looking in the fridge. There were some assorted vegetables lying around, wrinkled with age but not rotten – he could make fritters. Satisfied, he started gathering the ingredients.

“He’ll get here when he gets here.” Fiddleford rooted around until he found a grater. Stan sulked into his hot chocolate. He certainly had Stanford’s stubbornness! Fiddleford wondered if it was a family trait.

As if on cue, there was a commotion outside the front door. Fiddleford tensed. It swung open, and thankfully a familiar figure trudged inside.

“Ford!” Stan squealed in delight. He scrambled from the kitchen table to throw himself at his brother’s legs. Ford, looking snow-flecked and rather frazzled, patted his head absently.

“Yes, yes, hello Stanley. Fiddleford.”

Fiddleford rolled his eyes and continued making the fritters. Trust Stanford to make a dramatic entrance. Still, he eyed the man as he took off his snow-covered coat and boots. Stanford looked… rough. Not physically, but exhaustion was etched into every line on his face.

Fiddleford tutted and poured the man a coffee. Ford blinked as it was pushed into his hand.

“Oh – thank you, Fiddleford.”

“Didja meet the unicorn?” Stan pulled on his brother’s shirt, his own tiredness evidently forgotten in his excitement. Ford sighed.

“Yes, though she still stubbornly refuses to give me any of her hair. I did manage to obtain the rest of the ingredients though, so as soon as I get the hair I’ll be able to ward the house.”

Unicorn hair? Fiddleford was confused for all of two seconds before he shrugged it off. With Stanford, everything was a surprise. You just learned to roll with it.

And now that Ford was here…

“Stan, wouldja do me a favour?” Fiddleford asked gently. Stan nodded. “There should be a blanket up in the closet upstairs, all red and gold with snowflakes printed on it. It’s my favourite one. Could you go get it for me?”

“Sure.” Stan chirped, darting out of the room. Ford made a sound of confusion.

“I don’t remember that blanket.”

“’Course ya don’t, I made it up as an excuse to get Stan out of the room.” Fiddleford put down the grater and turned to meet Ford’s wary gaze from across the kitchen bench.

“…okay.” Ford said. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Stanford.” Fiddleford fixed him with a serious look. “Yer little brother’s a good kid.”

Ford sighed. “Twin brother. We’re twenty-seven.”

“Well right now he’s just seven. And you’d better not mess ‘im up. I’m watchin’ you.” He added with narrowed eyes.

Ford laughed nervously. “Honestly, what do you take me for?”

“A scientist who’s obsessed with his work and has no idea how to care for a child, ‘specially not a child who’s been abused.”

Ford’s eyes widened. “Abused? I can assure you that Stanley hasn’t been abused.”

“I beg to differ!” Fiddleford said sharply. Ford had the audacity to look insulted. “With what the kid’s been tellin’ me, there’s no way he hasn’t been abused. For god’s sake, he doesn’t have glasses when he needs ‘em! And ‘e flinches when I so much as raise my voice – or my hand, for that matter. E’s got bruises all over, too. What am I supposed to think?”

“Stanley… he refuses to wear his glasses.” Ford said weakly. Fiddleford snorted.

“He’s been usin’ yer spare ones all day. Says ‘e likes bein’ able to see for once. In fact, he basically said yer father refused to buy ‘im glasses after his old pair got broken!”

“He’s been wearing my-?”

“Of course you didn’t notice. Have ya even laid eyes on the kid?”

“Of course I have.”

“So you did notice him wearin’ your spare glasses? No wonder ‘e thinks he’s stupid, he can’t read the words on a page two inches from his nose!”

Ford looked devastated. Right now, Fiddleford didn’t care. “But… no, that’s not right. Stanley always told me he hated wearing them.”

“Even besides that, what about the bruises?” Fiddleford challenged. “The kid’s covered in ‘em. And I’m givin’ you the benefit of the doubt here, because I don’t believe you’re the one who’s been roughin’ him up.”

“I – I-”

“So you’ll forgive me for bein’ a little concerned here! What kinda father would I be if I just sat back and ignored this? Yer brother’s been abused, plain and simple.”

Ford floundered. Fiddleford sighed, a little of his anger evaporating.

“Well... I suppose if ya are really twins, ya probably wouldn’t have had a hand in it. An’ I don’t know the full story. But I do know this.” He leveled a finger at Ford’s face. “That kid trusts ya, more than he probably should. An’ we’re gonna have words if you hurt him, or put him in danger, or do anything that’ll cause him harm. The boy’s suffered enough, I’ll not stand around and let it happen again. Ya understand?”

“Yes.” Stanford said quietly. “Yes, I do.”

“Good. Now that’s outta the way, I gotta ask; why on earth didja not tell me about him before? We went to visit Shermie and his kids during that Christmas break a while back an’ no one mentioned another brother.”

Stanford flushed. “It’s… a family matter.”

Fiddleford leveled a cold stare at him. After a moment Ford sighed and averted his gaze.

“When we were teenagers Stanley sabotaged my one chance at getting into my dream college. He says it was an accident, but… anyway our father kicked him out and I haven’t heard from him since.”

Fiddleford held up a hand. “Hang on. Are my ears decievin’ me? You’re telling me your brother, who got booted outta his own home as a teenager, hasn’t been mistreated? My friend, you’ve got issues.”

Ford opened his mouth to argue, but he was cut off by Stan’s return. Fiddleford turned his attention to the sheepish boy who was currently wringing his hands and wincing at the doorway. “Um, sorry Fidds. I couldn’t find it.”

“That’s alright, I musta left it somewhere else. Now, didja wanna help me with makin’ dinner?”

Stan perked up at Fiddleford’s breezy tone, as if surprised he wasn’t in trouble. “Jeez! Can I?”

“Well sure, why wouldn’t you?” Fiddleford flashed the boy a smile. Stan beamed in return and scrambled to join him in the kitchen.

“Pa says cookin’s for ladies and we shouldn’t do it.”

“Well, your Pa seems to be wrong about a lotta things. Now, you know how ta use a grater? I’ll show you.”

Fiddleford could feel Ford’s gaze searing into his forehead. He flicked his attention up from Stan and cooking, just for a moment, to catch the conflicted stare. Ford looked away when their eyes met and cleared his throat.

“I’ll just – um – put these ingredients away for later.”

“You do that.” Fiddleford agreed coolly.

Stanford walked away, more subdued than usual. The sight of his slumped shoulders was enough to send a spark of guilt through Fiddleford’s chest. He knew he was being too hard on the guy – especially with how wrecked Ford was looking – but his blood boiled for this gap-toothed child with his cute curls and nervous laughs.

Fiddleford couldn’t comprehend the idea of kicking out his son. The idea was as foreign to him as the idea that they should all put sticks of butter under their hats and walk on their hands instead of their feet. Tate was his son – his boy, his child. Fiddleford was sure that there was nothing Tate could do that would made Fiddleford throw him out. The idea of Stanley and Stanford’s father kicking out a helpless teen? No matter what mess that teen had gotten himself into, it shouldn’t have happened. He felt a fierce protectiveness rise up in him.

No, and it most certainly wouldn’t happen again. No kid was getting kicked out on his watch. Nor hurt, even unintentionally by an oblivious scientist of a brother. Fiddleford would make sure of it.

He made sure both the Pines boys were fed before packing up his things with the promise of returning tomorrow. Stanley hugged his legs with a surprisingly strong grip – Fiddleford crouched down to return the hug properly.

“I had a real good time today. We’ll have to do this again some time, huh? Now, you got my phone number? Good. Call me if you need anything. Especially if that brother of yours gets into any trouble, okay?”

“Yes sir!” Stan saluted enthusiastically. Fiddleford laughed and ruffled his hair before glancing up to meet Stanford’s eyes. Ford was hovering in the doorway, seemingly unsure of whether to join them.

Fiddleford took pity on him and offered his old friend a smile. “I’ll see ya later, Stanford. Take care of ya brother.”

Ford smiled back nervously. And maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

_______________________________________________________________

Stanford couldn’t smother the huge yawns that bubbled out of him. Curse this sleep deprivation! It made everything harder than it had to be. His sentences kept being interrupted by his own body’s involuntary reflexes.

Stanley followed him like a baby duck – a rather apt description, actually – while Ford bustled around the house. Ford sighed in annoyance when he very nearly tripped over his brother yet again, upon doubling back to retrieve a piece of equipment he’d forgotten.

“Stanley, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Stan glanced away and rubbed his arm. “Well, I guess. But every time I go to sleep I get these weird dreams. I dunno, I was kinda hoping I could hang out with you?”

Dreams – dammit, Ford had forgotten to warn his brother! He dropped down to be at eye-level with Stan, who blinked at the sudden movement.

“Uh, what-?”

“You’re having odd dreams, correct?” Stan nodded so Ford continued. “Rest assured, they won’t be able to harm you, so long as you never make a deal. If you come across anything triangular or yellow while in a dream you must not talk to it. It will talk to you and try to be your friend. Don’t trust anyone with yellow eyes, even if – no, especially if that person is me. Don’t talk to it and never shake its hand. Do you understand?”

“Um, yeah, but why? This is all soundin’ like Ma’s predictions.” Stan perked up. “Can you tell the future too? Does that mean I can as well?”

Ford sighed. “No, I can’t tell the future.”

“…can you make the weird dreams go away?” Stan questioned hesitantly.

“Yes, when I manage to get that unicorn hair – though I fear it may be a hopeless endeavor.” The weight of the day’s events – how could he ever hope to be pure of heart with all the wrong he had done? – sat heavily on his shoulders. Ford lifted a hand to rub at his forehead. “Go to bed, Stanley, and remember what I said about people with yellow eyes.”

“Yeah, yeah, never make a deal, I get it.” Stan paused, eyes flickering to the journal resting in Ford’s pocket and lighting up. “Can you tell me some more stories from your book before bed? Yesterday we got to the hidey-thing!”

“I don’t have time to read you stories, I have important work to do.”

Stan pouted. He looked up at Ford with those big brown eyes that were bigger than usual. It was then that Ford noticed the glasses – yes, Fiddleford had mentioned them, hadn’t he? Stan was wearing Ford’s spare glasses and they threatened to slip down his nose at every movement, far too big for him. They also had the added benefit of making him look very, very cute.

“How about I lend you my journal?” Ford relented. “You can read it by yourself before you go to sleep. I can tell you other stories later.”

Stan hesitated. “…yeah? I can borrow it?”

“So long as you don’t damage it, you may.” Ford dropped the book in his brother’s hands and turned to gather up an armful of equipment. “Go along now.”

Stanley scurried off to read, and Ford descended into the basement where his work waited.

When he emerged at seven thirty the next morning, Stan was gone.

#writing #gravity falls #rewind #chapter 4

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years

Text

“Back to Normal” || YEAR 3 – Ch.18 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 9/9/2020

Word count: 3, 395

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall set Harry down on a bed and went to talk to Madam Pomphrey. He still hadn’t stirred the whole way up the lawn or at any point through the castle. Heather, Hermione, and Ron had followed close behind, holding back tears.

They took their seats next to Harry’s bed and sat there as Madam Pomphrey mumbled angrily under her breath as she looked him over.

“ – Should have canceled that match – Like I had said – but no – ” She pushed the sheets up to Harry’s shoulders. “I’ll be back with my wand. He’s fine,” she assured them.

Ron gave Heather an arm squeeze and she nodded, taking in what she said. Harry was fine. He’s been through worse… it was only a fifty-foot drop or so.

Professor McGonagall had left with Professor Dumbledore and come back with a bundle under a grey wool blanket. She gave it to Heather and sighed heavily before walking away.

Ron checked what it was and squeaked. “It was a good broom… The best.”

“They must have canceled the match after this, wouldn’t they? How many players can you have before the game has to be canceled?” Hermione looked out the window at the storm clouds nervously.

Her question wasn’t answered until twenty minutes later when the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, all muddy and sore, came rushing into the hospital wing looking for Harry. Fred and George sat on the bed on the other side of him, joined by the three chasers, Alicia, Katie, and Angelina.

“How is he?” Fred looked at Ron for answers, seeing as Hermione was still staring out the window, avoiding looking at Harry, and Heather couldn’t do anything but stare at Harry.

Ron nodded, “He’s fine. Just knocked cold. Madam Pomphrey already went over him and gave him some kind of goo,” he made a face. “Didn’t look edible.”

“He was real lucky the ground was so soft. All that mud broke his fall,” Fred nudged George.

George sighed, “Was really worried. We thought he was dead.”

“Wood even called for a reschedule – too bad we didn’t get one,” Alicia shook her head. “Poor Harry.”

Heather had been staring at Harry’s face when she saw his eyes squeeze. She stood and got on the bed next to him, “Harry?”

His eyes fluttered open. “Ow.” He rubbed his head and winced, “Everything hurts.”

“Well you did fall from the sky, Harry,” Hermione sniffled.

“How’re you feeling, Harry?” Fred asked, leaning in closer. “You gave George quite a fright.”

George hit his arm, “I wasn’t the one shaking on my broom.”

“What happened?” Harry sat up suddenly, looking at all their faces.

“You fell. From VERY high, so lay back down.” Heather pushed him back.

“We thought… We thought you’d died,” Katie was shaking under Angelina’s arm.

Hermione sniffed again.

“Yeah, I remember that. I mean the match! What happened? Did we win?” He stared at Fred and George but they looked away, rubbing their necks. “We LOST?”

“Right after you fell, Diggory got the Snitch. He hadn’t realized what was happening below and caught it while you fell – ”

“He wanted a rematch, though. Him and Wood argued with Madam Hooch the rest of the time we were out there, but according to the rules, it’s fair – ”

“Even Wood agreed in the end.”

Harry looked around. “Where is Wood?”

“Still in the showers,” Angelina said.

Fred leaned in again, “We think he’s trying to drown himself in there.”

Fred and George laughed but Harry pressed his hands to his face and shook his head. Heather looked at them and frowned.

“It’s alright, Harry!” Fred shook his shoulder.

“You’ve never missed the Snitch before,” George reminded him.

“There had to be at least one time you did.”

Heather pulled Harry’s hands away, “You can make it up against Ravenclaw. Right?”

“Yeah!” Fred shook his shoulder again. “We lost by a hundred points so Hufflepuff just needs to lose to Ravenclaw and we have to beat both Ravenclaw and Slytherin!”

“’Cept Hufflepuff never lose to Ravenclaw…”

“Well if Hufflepuff loses to Slytherin – ”

“Sure, that’ll happen for sure but Slytherin won’t be losing to Ravenclaw so our match – ”

“You could throw it for Harry, couldn’t you. Humble Malfoy a bit –”

“Ron!” Heather glared at him.

“You don’t need to throw the match,” George reassured them. “A hundred point margin could go either way, really.”

“Doesn’t really matter yet, if you think about it,” Fred agreed.

The team left and it was just Heather, Hermione, and Ron left by Harry’s side as he stared vacantly at the ceiling above.

“Did you see Dumbledore on his way out?” Hermione was asking them. “He seemed deadly angry.”

Ron nodded. “Never seen him so mad.” He looked back at Harry, “Furious the dementors had come onto the grounds.”

They all stared at Harry, who still hadn’t moved since finding out Gryffindor had lost.

He turned to them, as if realizing they were still there. He looked around. “Did… someone get my Nimbus?”

They looked at the pile of snapped wood on the far chair.

“Well…” Heather looked at Ron.

“I-it… Broke. Snapped in half, actually.”

“What?” Harry sat up again and was pushed back down by Hermione.

“When you fell the winds carried it and… dropped it off on the Whomping Willow.” Hermione kept her hand on Harry’s shoulder, preventing him from bolting up again.

“In half? How will I play!”

“Alright, visiting time’s over.”

They were glad for Madam Pomphrey’s interruption. Heather wasn’t sure how to answer his question just yet. It seemed like they had the money for another Nimbus Two-Thousand, but how they’d get to Diagon Alley in London and purchase it before his next match was the real problem, especially if they couldn’t even go to the village just below the castle gates.

They left him to rest and while Ron and Hermione went to Hogsmeade that weekend for more candy, Heather stayed by Harry’s side, studying and playing wizard chess with him. Neither of them where any good so she spent most of the time studying and Harry sleeping.

Lots of people came by on Saturday. Hagrid brought huge yellow flowers the size of Heather’s whole head, Ginny brought a get-well card she made herself – handing it over with a furious blush, and all of the team came by again with Wood.

“Don’t blame you, Harry. It was those dementors that ruined the game,” he had said. They could tell he was telling the truth, despite his sullen face and angry eyes.

On Sunday, Harry was finally feeling better enough to sit up and talk. They were on their third attempt of wizard chess when he paused and looked at her, opening his mouth to say something and then didn’t.

“What is it Harry?”

He crossed his arms and looked down at his feet under the white sheets. “I-I saw the… grim. Again. Right before I fell.”

Heather bit her lip. She really shouldn’t be encouraging this but… “I saw it too! In the sky! Right before you fell. I couldn’t believe the clouds had really formed – ”

“It wasn’t just the clouds, Heather! The grim was actually there. In the stadium, a few seats above you.”

She stared at him. “Harry… The grim is an omen, a symbol… Not an actual living thing.”

He frowned. “But the dog, just before I almost got run over by the Knight Bus! It was there again!”

“Harry. The same thing being used as an omen makes it seem like the grim is a creature. The book says the death omen shows up in many places – it never mentions any creature actually BEING the grim.”

He raised his brow, “You’ve been doing research?”

She blushed. Just because it was ridiculous to think that Professor Trelawney was right about the grim didn’t mean she shouldn’t be studying it on her own just to be sure. Especially if it had to do with Harry and the fact that every year something horrible happens.

“I’ve been reading our textbook. So what? You should try it some time.”

Monday morning felt like the world was back to normal again. Harry was back and even Draco had ditched his sling once again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for Draco doing constant imitations and impersonations of dementors and Harry when he fell off his broom. Of course, it had been raining so hard that he wouldn’t have been able to see anything but a falling red streak, but everyone around him still laughed anyways.

Every chance Draco had to show off his horrible acting skills, he took. During potions he had decided that the best use of his time after he’d turned in his potion was to close his robes up all the way with the hood up and go around their table booing like a ghost.

“Shove off,” Ron pushed Draco back.

Draco laughed and went back to his seat.

“Why isn’t he doing anything?” Hermione was glaring at Professor Snape for letting Draco run around like that. “If that were me – ”

“Gryffindors would be at negative five-hundred points,” Harry rolled his eyes. “He’s a Slytherin though, so – ”

Heather scoffed. “Excuse me. But if that were ME I’d be serving detention for life. And I’m a Slytherin.”

“Well I’M not looking at any progress here and if I were you, I’d stop this bickering and get back to work.” Professor Snape narrowed his eyes at them. He looked down at Heather’s potion and tisked, “Done, I presume?”

Heather nodded and ladled her potion into her jar. “It looks like Malfoy’s… Doesn’t it?”

Professor Snape chuckled and snatched the jar from her hand, stalking away. She sighed and took out her potions guide and textbook, wondering where she was going wrong.

“OOOO!” Draco was back with his arms outstretched at Harry, bobbing up and down under his black robes.

“We said quit it!” Ron picked up the crocodile heart he’d accidently left out of his potion and threw it at Draco.

It smacked him right in the face and he stumbled back, holding his cheek. “Ow! Weasley!” he growled.

“Enough! Draco, back to your seat. Weasley,” Professor Snape glared at him, “Fifty points from Gryffindor. There will be no throwing – any – potions ingredients in my classroom. Get a mop and wipe that blood before someone slips on it.”

Ron nodded and ran out of the room for a mop.

“Only Gryffindor gets points taken away?” Hermione hadn’t even bothered to raise her hand.

Professor Snape made a growling sort of noise and looked away, sitting back at his desk with his arms crossed.

The bells rang and they packed up, walking out of the class in a hurry and stopped at a suit of armor just before the Defense classroom. They waited, looking down the corridor at everyone who walked by or walked into the classroom.

“No sign of Snape.”

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t in there. Hermione, you check.”

Hermione walked over to the door and opened it a crack, peering inside. She gave them a thumbs up and walked in.

Professor Lupin was back behind his desk, looking more worn out than when they had first met him on the train. His clothes hung off him more loosely and he had deep grey circles under his eyes. Heather wondered how bad his cold had gotten since they talked. He hadn’t been in the hospital wing so he must have been in bed all weekend.

She opened her textbook as he asked the class how Friday’s lesson was and saw her essay on werewolves.

The class erupted and started calling out everything that had gone wrong that lesson.

“He gave us homework even though he was only filling in!”

“Two parchments? On werewolves? We don’t know anything about them!”

“ – TWO rolls – ”

Professor Lupin frowned. “Did you tell him we were on hinkypunks?”

“Yes, but he insisted!”

“ – And he said we were really behind – ”

“Well you can forget about the essays. I’ll speak to Professor Snape about all this. On to our lesson. Hinkypunks.” He pulled the cover off the tank on his desk to reveal a one-legged creature holding out what looked like a lantern.

There was smoke and mist floating all around the creature and only the lantern was crisply visible. Professor Lupin shut the windows and in the darkness they could make out the shape of it better, seeing that the hand holding the lantern had long claws and it’s pale eyes were glaring at everyone, watching them all carefully behind the glass as the yellow lantern light reflected dimly off its eyes.

“Tricky creatures, Hinkypunks,” Professor Lupin started the lecture and they began taking notes. “They lure people into bogs with the lantern. They follow the light into its den and then – ”

The Hinkypunk thumped against the glass and scratched with his caws. He tried biting his way free and ended up making a disgusting squelching noise, similar to that of a dead bloated mouse being stepped on.

The bells rang and Professor Lupin covered the Hinkypunk up again. They packed up and before Harry was out the door, Professor Lupin called him back. Heather, Hermione, and Ron left with everyone else, who seemed infinitely more happy about this lesson than the one from Friday with Professor Snape.

“Wait for me,” Ron headed to the boy’s bathrooms down a passageway.

“It’s a shame we couldn’t turn in the essay. I finished it Friday night.”

“I did too.” Heather added quickly.

“Well maybe Professor Snape will take it anyways,” Hermione turned to leave and Heather pulled her back.

“Are you mad? He’ll take more points off your house if you go talk to him now. I wouldn’t even try it after today’s lesson, and he doesn’t hate me as much as he hates you guys.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “He asked us to do this work. He HAS to give me points for it somehow.” She turned and left down the stairs.

Heather shook her head. Was Hermione hoping he’d include it in the grades for potions? She sighed and headed back to the Defense classroom, poking her head inside.

“Why were they at the match?”

Professor Lupin closed his briefcase, “They’re just hungry. And you were all a giant bowl of food for them to feast on.”

Heather let the door shut behind her. “The dementors?”

Harry nodded.

“Don’t worry, Professor Dumbledore won’t let them on the grounds again. They only came on because they’re supply of human prey has been taken away from them and with all the excitement on the Quidditch field – well – it was sort of like a feast, just waiting for them.” Professor Lupin leaned on his desk. “Professor Dumbledore wasn’t joking when he said they were dangerous.”

“How did Sirius Black escape them then?” Heather looked at Professor Lupin and noticed he seemed extra distant.

After a moment he responded. “Well, to begin with, the fortress is on a tiny island out in the middle of the ocean. But that’s not what keeps the prisoners stuck there. No. The walls and ocean isn’t even what I’d consider the prison to be. Azkaban is only the place that holds all those criminals locked inside their heads, unable to escape the misery inside their minds. Weeks, months, years… without a single happy thought… They’re all mad there. And defenseless. See, if you’re left too long at a dementor’s whim, they drain your magical powers…”

He hadn’t answered her question but the picture he had painted them in their heads was enough to stop her from asking again. It was all over wizard news about how dangerous Sirius Black is… and now she knew why. No wonder everyone at school always talked about how scary it was that he had escaped. And now he was after Harry, angry that Harry had defeated his master… She shuddered.

“But you made the dementor on the train go away… and Ron said Professor Dumbledore made them leave the field – ”

“There are defense spells to use against them… but the more there are… It was incredible hearing about how many Professor Dumbledore had been able to expel with only one use of it.” He stroked his chin, “Really wish I could have been there to see that.”

“Teach me?”

“Teach us,” Heather corrected. “Will it be part of this year’s lessons?”

“No – I’m no expert in fighting them, really. One on a train is the most – ” he looked at them and sighed. “If you really wanted to learn to fight dementors you should actually ask – ”

“I don’t need to learn to fight a whole bunch… just maybe one or two. If they show up on the quidditch field again… and come near me…”

“Who should we ask instead?” Heather was desperate to know who Professor Lupin thought was an expert in dealing with dementors.

“I don’t want anyone else to know about… what we talked about. Could you just show us? Just enough to do what you did? So that I could do that?” Harry cut Professor Lupin off before he could even speak.

Professor Lupin chuckled at the look of determination on Harry’s face. “If… you insist… I’ll help you two learn it – But these lessons will have to start next term, after the holidays. I’m hoping Professor Snape can tweak the potion just enough to have a stronger effect… so that I can recover from this illness quicker. Wizard colds can be real tricky sometimes,” he laughed.

Heather gave Harry a look and he groaned, keeping his mouth shut. “Alright then. After Christmas?”

Professor Lupin smiled, “Alright.”

They left the classroom to find Ron leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“What part of ‘Wait for me’ did no one understand? Where’s Hermione?”

Heather sighed, “Probably off getting more points removed from – ”

“I’m right here.”

They all jumped and turned behind them to see Hermione walking out of the ancient runes classrooms down the corridor.

“I just needed to ask my teacher a question.”

“Did you talk to Professor Snape?”

“Snape? We’re already down a hundred-fifty, please tell me – ”

“He took my essay and gave Gryffindor back a single point. Happy?” She crossed her arms. “ONE point? For two rolls?”

Heather couldn’t help but laugh. If Hermione got a point, then she was sure she could get Slytherin at least double. They headed down to the library to study, and after lunch she went down to Professor Snape’s office.

She knocked on the door three times and waited. The door swung open and she stepped in, her essay in hand. He was sitting at his desk grading papers when he looked up and rolled his eyes.

“Let me guess… The werewolf essay.” He stared at her as she approached and stuck out his hand for it, snatching it from her hand. He looked through it quickly and handed it back. “A point to Slytherin.”

“Just one?” She looked over her essay and frowned. “Was it worse than Hermione’s?”

“They were both awful, but at least yours was more concise. Yes. A point. What more do you want for doing your homework? Applause?”

She blushed and looked away, frowning. “Do I leave it here or…”

Professor Snape leaned back and curled a finger to his lips, tapping them as he thought. “Keep it,” he said slowly. “You never know when… it’ll come in handy.”

“But all this is in the textbook anyways.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, looking annoyed. “But I doubt Professor Lupin will manage to cover that this year.”

Heather nodded and walked out of his office, closing the door behind her. “We’re not THAT behind.” If he thought he could a better Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher why wasn’t he one already. She headed back to the common room and stuffed the two rolls in her trunk.

She looked around and closed the door, making sure Pansy and her other dormmates were not in sight. She very rarely got a chance to open up the books she had taken from the library. She picked up the transfiguration one and started a new section in her art journal. “‘Chapter one: Thirty supervise-required spells’.”

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

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#harry potter #heather potter #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #pro snape #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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flusteredmountainman · 5 years

Text

Bullet-pointed predictions I have for each of the new 3 routes

For like an in-depth prediction I did of Muriel’s one a couple months back see this old thing

So a huge commonality in the first three’s arcs (as I mention in that linked post) is reconnecting with family (both found and blood) and so I first and foremost think that this will be present in each LI’s route; I’ll go into more detail on what I think this will look like for each of them individually, plus upright/reversed end speculation based on the definitions for their patron arcana.

***Spoilers for Muriel, Portia and Lucio’s routes so far and references to Nadia, Asra and Julian’s routes***

I’ll start with Muriel because I’ve already talked to his route the most and I think it’ll be the easiest place to start!

Muriel:

The role of family in his route:

Obviously as we’ve seen so far, Muriel has a lot of unresolved feelings of abandonment, shame, self-loathing and loneliness associated with his family and the fact that they’ve abandoned him.

He’s already had the very beginnings of opening up to MC in his last book (The Hermit - very fitting), and he will perhaps continue to do so

I think a central theme for his story will be reconnecting with his family and hearing their perspective on what happened for two reasons: firstly because of one of the options for MC’s response to this discusses that he actually doesn’t know his parent’s reasoning and that maybe they Did want him, and the second relates to Nadia’s route and her arc with reconnecting with her sisters

In her route, similarly she vents about how annoying and patronising her sisters were throughout her life and you can either agree or posit that maybe they were just trying to help/showing they cared about her (reversed vs upright choice)

I’m also hoping he generally creates a stronger support network - I think at least Portia, Nadia and Asra (and maaayyyybe even Morga but that might be pushing it) will end up helping him and MC in the confrontation with the devil at the end - just based on who we’ve seen interacting with him the most in positive ways so far

Upright meaning: Look inside yourself for the answers you seek. Take time for introspection in the days ahead.

He’ll recover from his trauma, recognise himself as a person who is deserving of love and support and who has Needs (including like. a bed. lol.)

Honestly I don’t have a lot else to say ‘cept that bc I said it already so kjaefjef check my aforementioned post if you want More for my favourite man

Reversed meaning: Be wary of retreating too far within your own mind. Others still have valuable things to share.

He decides that he needs to handle the confrontation with the devil alone - probably erring more on the side of self-sacrifice than anything else and/or seeing his sacrifice as just (still blaming himself for his trauma, he believes that his only way to “Redemption” is by falling on his own sword, so-to-speak)

Portia:

Oof, Portia’s a tricky one so far.

The role of family in her route:

So, obviously she has a lot of baggage with Julian. Some of this is hinted at just around her arcana’s definitions, but I’ll get to that soon.

She’s a compulsive secret-hoarder and collects information about everyone around her. I think this is probably a hang-up that she has around control - or loss of it. She doesn’t have security or wealth or even anyone to permanently look after her/mentor her (Julian left and Lilinka - her adoptive grandmother - passed away leaving her to fend largely for herself).

I think that information is the one thing she feels that she has control over, because so much of her life has been out of her hands (and also just chasing Julian around trying to clean up his messes)

She’s literally a head servant as her job -so much of her life is being told what to do and also telling others what to do. I think she fears loss of control in her life, but she’s also never been in a position where she’s been able to be an active agent and do things just because she wants to do them.

She craves validation, safety, and support and that’s why she found herself in this employment role with Nadia - and even then in Nadia’s route (and her own), she’s terrified that Nadia will abandon her in a heartbeat - even though she literally nursed her for years and has been nothing but loyal. Girl has some Mad abandonment issues

Edit: Portia ultimately blames herself for the people around her leaving and thinks that people will only stay if she can be useful in some way - hence why she so doggedly pursues Julian's innocence because she thinks the only chance she has of him staying is if she can literally fix his mess

Largely I think her arc with her family will be about her feeling emboldened to be honest about her feelings and letting Julian know in a meaningful way how much his absence impacted her, but also realising that she Actually Can lean on Mazelinka (who she obviously loves but has made Many excuses as to why she’s too busy to see her - probably again a thing of “if I control when and where I see you, then I can’t get hurt in this relationship”), Nadia, and probably also Asra and some of the other servants even?

Upright meaning: Believe in your inner light. You may have endured great hardship, but it only makes you shine brighter.

Idk man lol this is honestly quite vague.

I think this will prolly be a similar thing to Muriel - just specifically confronting that Yes, she’s had a hard time of it but she shouldn’t let that impact her quality of life

Also probably a lot of stuff around her realising she’s worthy of love as a person and that the people who love her won’t abandon her

Reversed meaning: Now is not the time to despair. Keep believing and let your star shine bright. The world needs you

Again.... aefkjfkae...... very vague.....

I think she won’t be able to let go of her fear of abandonment generically - or alternatively will perhaps? Try to bargain with the devil? I could see a similar thing happening with her that happened in Nadia’s reversed end - perhaps she believes she can save the world/MC by offering her servitude to the devil and being beholden to him? This is Fully a reach, I honestly have no idea :P

Lastly, Lucio:

Don’t worry, I’m not dunking on him lol. I don’t like him but that doesn’t mean I don’t have Thoughts about his route.

The role of family in his route:

Well. This one is clearly quite literally maybe the messiest out of these three (I mean that literally, in terms of, the amount of blood lol)

Obviously, he has a lot of baggage with both of his parents. I’ll disclaimer and say that I personally don’t see Morga as abusive - that doesn’t mean people can’t - but I’m making speculations specifically about their relationship just based on the in-game context clues we have and nothing else

As a person, Lucio is ultimately obsessed with power and attaining it. He’s clearly insecure and is desperate for any sort of validation, which is made messier by his natural sense of entitlement. This combination means that he chronically chases power, thinking that leadership means being able to do whatever you want to do with no consequences (e.g. in his route and also in Nadia’s when he briefly discusses killing people as count/countess) - and especially he thinks that if he has the power, the wealth, and the status then he’ll get the validation that he desperately craves.

As count, he throws lavish parties and spends a lot of time with the vagabonds in the south end - trying to win petty devotion and admiration with meaningless shows of wealth meanwhile his people are starving and suffering in the flooded district. He just wants to be popular at the end of the day, he doesn’t care about actual leadership or using his power for good, unselfish reasons. He claims his people love him, but it’s hollow, ornamental love based upon flash, not substance

Morga as a parent is harsh - she’s critical and derisive at times, but it’s also clear that she does love her son (specifically how she says she spoiled him by never letting him get hurt). Lucio as a teenager grew up somewhat spoiled and expected that power would fall to him by virtue of heritage from his mother when he came of age.

I think that Lucio didn’t get what he needed from Morga necessarily as a kid, and as a result he craved that first position of power because he saw it as a source of validation he hadn’t previously had - and when it was denied him, he became resentful and even murderous towards his parents.

Woof, long fucking paragraph. I do think that Morga and Lucio will end up reconciling in his route somehow. I think it’s central to his character and to filling the void inside of him that he learns that you can’t buy people’s love - also just because his whole story and entry into the world was sparked by that essential conflict with his mother. I think it would feel weird narratively if that weren’t at least addressed - whether or not it ends in reconciliation

Upright meaning: Shake off his veil: you are not trapped. There is always a way out of even the darkest places.

I think that this will be a redemption arc for Lucio. I think that in order for him to be redeemed he’ll have to relinquish the devil’s influence over him - which will involve addressing the wrong he’s done and apologising/trying to atone for it (whether or not other LIs accept his apology is another thing - as they all have very valid reasons not to)

I think the “way out of the darkness” for Lucio is in giving up his quest for power. He will learn that it’s ok to just be Lucio as a person, that he can be vulnerable and responsible for himself, and that people will love him as he is and not for the way he throws his money around

Reversed meaning: It is time to clean house: purge the things that harm you from your life. Take back your power.

Now this literally includes the sentence “take back your power” so. whoomp there it is. Lucio can’t let go of his power-hunger and becomes even more selfish and self-righteous.

I think also unfortunately this will mean he will literally probably kill some if not all of the other LIs, and also (especially) his mother. He will see anything that challenges his power as opposition to be removed, and he will rule (alongside the devil? who knows) in chaos and blood.

Ookey!! kajefnkae glad I got that out of my system. If I missed anything/if people have their own ideas/thoughts I’d love to hear them! Have this giant essay lol, we’ll see if anything I predicted comes true in the next several dozen updates eh? B)

#muriel #portia devorak #muriel the arcana #lucio #the arcana #the arcana game #lucio the arcana #long post #meta #jaye writes #the arcana spoilers #nadia #julian #asra #mazelinka #morga

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stupid-richie · 6 years

Text

Into the Dark (4/12)

Summary: Richie and Stan have seen and dealt with a lot of cases in the years they’ve been working together, from cults to cartels. A case in Derry, Maine, proves to be one of the most horrific for them and for the two local officers they’ll be working with. And on top of it all, Richie keeps remembering things he’d rather forget.

WC: 1889

Read on AO3

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The cab that picks Richie up is grimy, with a sticky back seat. He rattles off the address Stan sent and turns his focus to staring out the window. It’s barely three in the afternoon, so the streets are filled with children playing and laughing. The sun is bright, kind of unusual in Maine in November, but none of the kids will complain about having good weather to play in.

“Haven’t seen you around before.”

Richie looks at the cabbie, a man with dark hair and a squared off jaw. He looks like the type who would snap Richie in half given an excuse.

“I just moved to town with my friend, it’s more peaceful around here. I’m uh, Finn Wolfhard.”

Don’t lie to me, Richard.

“Pleasure to meet ya, Finn. Tom Rogan.”

He bites the inside of his cheek to avoid saying anything in response. Tom must be the one who made Beverly recant her statement, Richie can’t imagine that there’s more than one Tom Rogan in Derry. On instinct he reaches for his phone.

“Anything I should know about Derry?”

One word text message to Stan: Rogan. If something happens to Richie, and he isn’t at their apartment in twenty minutes, Stan will know who did it. Cabbie? Stan replies.

“It’s a nice enough place, ‘cept the murders, but I’m sure you know about those. Just mind your own business and everyone’s great.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Red flags, Uris. “Can I ask what you think? About the murders, I mean. I’m kind of a crime enthusiast.”

Tom hums to himself. “I think they’re terrible. Takes a lot to do that to a person. But kid, don’t go around asking people ‘bout them. You’re new in town, and- they’ll think you’re the killer.”

Solemnly nodding, Richie looks back out the window. That conversation was steered rather abruptly away from Tom’s thoughts, but that doesn’t mean much. Normal people don’t like talking about tragedies so casually. Still, he has a bad feeling about Tom, and he’s learned to trust his intuition when it comes to cases. Something about him is guilty. Maybe it isn’t the murders, but he isn’t innocent. He can’t be. Is he abusive to his wife? Probably. Is he the killer? The first body flashes in his mind. Tom and the girl have the same hair color, if that counts for anything. Maybe DNA could prove something, if Richie can get a sample.

His phone buzzes. Stan again. Be careful.

No shit Sherlock, he texts back.

For the rest of the ride, Tom is silent, and so is Stan.

Richie arrives at the apartment unscathed. He pays the fee, bids Tom goodbye, and goes to 7C, the number of his new home. Two quick knocks on the door, because Stan has both keys and it’s currently locked.

The one to open the door is Eddie, still pale from the morgue that morning. Richie smiles at him and nudges past him into the apartment. Small, cozy. Normal. The walls are white and undecorated, the furniture threadbare, and the carpet stained. Finally, somewhere he can kick up his feet on the couch and Stan won’t yell at him.

“Pizza’s on the table,” Bill says. While Stan is looking through a file, all of Bill’s attention is on him. His expression is soft, his lips parted slightly and eyes a little unfocused. Someone has a crush on Stan. “We left you two pepperoni.”

“Eat at least one,” adds Stan.

The temptation to flip him off is real, but Richie knows he’s just trying to take care of him. It isn’t an attack or anything. He settles for making a face as he grabs a slice. It’s Pizza Hut, generic and no different from thousands of other meals he’s eaten since he was hired at twenty-one. Stan isn’t a huge fan of pizza- he likes ‘proper meals,’ or whatever. Probably part of his whole thing about Richie eating at least twice a day. He’s a little uptight about neatness and routine and keeping them both healthy. On the rare occasion Richie gets sick, Stan makes him stay in bed and do nothing but watch brain-melting TV all day.

Stan watches him take a small bite off the tip of the pizza, and, seemingly satisfied for now, goes back to his work.

“I like Rogan for it,” Richie announces, beginning to pace the narrow stretch of clear floor at the front of the room. “Fits the profile.”

“Not even kind of. Tom Rogan has a wife-and he’s lived here his whole life. He’s younger than the description, he lives in town, he-” Eddie cuts himself off when Richie lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “What?”

Another tiny bite of pizza. “Doesn’t fit your profile, Eds. Our killer is late twenties, early thirties. The kids trust him, they know him. He’s a sadist and he isn’t escalating, even when the time between the murders is inconsistent. No violence more extreme than normal for him even when it’s weeks between murders. So he has to have another punching bag. A wife, maybe. He’s filled with hatred for children, possibly due to childhood trauma. Oh- does Rogan have a criminal record? How about Beverly Rogan?”

“Richie…”

He ignores the warning in Stans tone.

“At least a phone call about a domestic dispute. Hospital records for Beverly, maybe. He says she drinks but I don’t know if that’s an actual reliable claim. I think that what she saw was real.”

Eddie and Bill look at each other.

“He’s just trying to keep her quiet or something. He did it, he had to have done it because who else possibly could have? The only witness is too scared of him to say anything and he did kill his own daughter. Tore off her whole face so no one would know.”

“Beep beep, Richie.”

“So why does he do it then? What happened to him? Maybe there’s something on file about his parents. There has to be. There can’t not be, because he did it, he murdered them after he sicced his dog or something on them so that they’d die in horrible pain, and-”

“Richie.”

His words are a jumbled, incomprehensible mess at this point, even to himself. It has to be Rogan. There’s nothing in the case. Someone has to be responsible and it has to be Rogan. He did it. He had to.

“Richie!”

He thinks you’re going to help him. Do you hear him yelling your name?

Richie stops and stares at Stan, who got to his feet and some point. They’re a couple feet apart, and Stan has his hands out in front of him in a calming gesture. Behind him, Eddie has frozen and Bill can’t seem to decide if he’s afraid or intrigued. Maybe both. Stan steps a little closer. Richie steps back.

“You need to calm down, Rich. Deep breath.”

Calm down. You won’t get hurt if you follow directions.

“Look at me. Focus on me. Breathe. In, out.”

Look at me, Richard.

“You’re okay.”

You’re fine. Stop crying.

Fat tears roll down Richie’s cheeks and he doesn’t know why. Nothing upsets him. He’s seen it all. He’s fine. He can handle this, he can always handle it.

“No, you can’t. You can’t do it this time, Richie.”

You can’t do anything right.

“Count to ten with me. One. Two.”

If I get to three, you’ll regret it.

He winds up on the floor somehow, knees drawn to his chest as it spasms. Richie scrabbles for something- the trash bin by the door- and leans over it to throw up.

Weak. Pathetic.

“Bill, Eddie, you should probably just go. I’ll call you later.”

They walk past Richie without a word. In the doorway, Eddie stops and turns around, looking back with an unreadable expression on his face. He starts to say something, but stops himself. Softly, he shuts the door.

Stan doesn’t try and touch Richie- he knows better- but he gets closer. His eyes are brown, not blue. His hair is curly and somewhere between brown and blonde, not salt and pepper black. His lips are twisted into a concerned frown, not perked up in a smirk. He shows his hands, palms up, to Richie, proving that he isn’t holding anything that could hurt him.

“Richie. Focus on me. I’m real. What you’re thinking, what you’re remembering- it isn’t.”

Not anymore, but it used to be. It’s filling his thoughts, consuming him, making his chest tight and brain a scattered mess. Screams echo in his ears. He smells blood and burning flesh and rotting bodies instead of pizza. Pain flares up on the palms of his hands where his nails bite into them. Consumed, consumed by his memories and it fucking hurts. He has to solve this case but he can’t when everything he feels and thinks is dictated by the past.

“Focus on right now. C’mon, Rich. What can you see? Five things.”

Five. Five things. Richie forces himself to look around the room. Five. Stan. Stan is one. He says so out loud, and earning an encouraging nod. The carpet. Two. Case files. Three. Couch. Four.

Take a good look around.

“One more thing, you can do it.”

Eddie’s jacket is draped over the back of the couch. Richie stutters on the name for a moment before it comes out his mouth. To his credit, Stan doesn’t cut him off or try and finish the name for him, just lets him work through the phrase.

“Four things you can hear.”

A car drives down the road outside their apartment building, clunky and loud, nearly drowning out the frantic ticking of the clock on the wall. The neighbors above them are stomping around in a way that rattles their walls a little bit. Outside, a child laughs. Richie should list those things to Stan- that’s what he’s supposed to be doing, at any rate- but he can’t bring himself to. Irrational anger fills him.

“I’m not a fucking child,” he spits. “Stop- stop talking to me like- like I’m a victim. Stop it.”

“Rich-”

Richie stands up, albeit unsteadily, and crosses his arms so Stan can’t see how badly his hands are shaking. He can’t look his best friend in the eyes. Instead, he stares at the ground, at the stained carpet fibers between his feet.

“Stop.”

It takes Stan a minute to formulate a response. “You’re off this case, Richie.”

His jaw drops.

“You can’t take me off the case, you’re not my fucking boss! And they need me, they need me to help them or they’ll never figure out that it’s Rogan! I have to keep working on this!”

“What you have to do is fly home. You can’t handle this one.”

His tone leaves no room for argument. Almost immediately he’s on the phone with their actual boss, running over the situation and getting approval of his decision to remove Richie from the case, even though he doesn’t actually have the authority to do so. He even hands the phone to Richie to confirm that he’s being sent home.

“Fuck you, Stan,” he growls, and goes to the bedroom to grab his still packed suitcase. “I’m staying here, and I’m finishing this fucking case, even if I have to do it myself.”

@heterophobic-thezoomer @ariamalik19 @bobert-newby @pucaaaaaa @thavwrecka @sodaoutsiders @bxxpbxxprichie @bitchierrichie @bleepbleeprichie @coolfijiwater

#reddie #stenbrough #it 2017 #it movie #fic #itd #mine

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kokichiomakin · 7 years

Text

Roquill Misc. Thoughts

(there’s a little line in the middle of this if you don’t want to read the more smutty stuff so take notice of that)

everyone always seems to think that rocket is really inexperienced when it comes to romance/sex and i understand why you might think that

but consider: lylla

he’s not completely unused to the idea of romance, it’s just that in the sense of roquill he just thinks that quill is too good for him, he isn’t from halfworld, he doesn’t look like him, if he was supposed to find anyone it was probably her and somehow that got all messed up so good going

but honestly

consider: rocket is very envious of gamora, every time quill’s attention has been on her instead of him he’s acted out to get his attention back (and when he and quill finally become a couple that part is blatantly obvious and at least he slowly calms down with it because quill is essentially ‘jfc no i care about you, not her, she’s OUR friend, yeah, but YOU’RE my boyfriend’ - on that semi-related note, just try to tell me that rocket stealing the batteries in gotg2 isn’t entirely because quill didn’t care about his music player and focused on gamora too much, rocket clearly never needed the money, the motivation was getting quill’s attention somehow, even if it was negative, he just wants to be focused on) but quill is also pretty secretly jealous of lylla, in a way

lylla was called rocket’s soulmate, by all senses of the word they were supposed to end up together and if she’s still out there the fear still exists in his mind that rocket could still somehow end up with her and no, he does not like that, nuh-uh, get her away he hates anyone being called rocket’s ‘soulmate’ but him, and so much as he might try to hide it, if she were ever really around him he’d be far far far more standoffish towards her than he’d ever been towards anyone else

of course rocket would find this hilarious in a way because what??? HE’S jealous??? what? i’m so used to glaring at any girl that goes by that this is a flarking riot of course at some point he’d probably just tug quill down so they were eye-to-eye and smirk and comment i thought you of all people would know that i’m not even into women anymore, good god. and before you say it - ‘cause i know you’re gonna - i’m not really into any guys, neither. ‘cept you. you’re my baby boo, no one else is.

ofc someone’s gotta poke them and go guys we still have a mission to drag them out of the likely make-out fest that follows, but you know

also, if you think gamora’s reaction to ayesha hitting on quill in gotg2 was bad, rocket in that position would’ve been so much worse less subtle glaring, more outright crossing his arms, tapping his foot, a-HEM, they’re all ugly anyways they’re creepy and yellow and if they want to ‘study natural reproduction’ they can SHOVE SOMETHING UP THEIR OWN--

quill’s just gotta hold rocket and go shhshh and eventually rocket will calm he gets a bit smug when it’s made clear that he’s the one quill loves but that’s okay, it usually just manifests as a little smug grin and nuzzling into him

SMUT PORTION

on another note with that ‘rocket is inexperienced’ idea, i’d think he knows what sex is, he’s not naive, it’s just that he’s probably ever only done it once with lylla and whoops, that’s it and that was probably heavily just well, that happened, it was....okay, i guess?

the part that he’s inexperienced on is that quill is a) a human, and b) male, and okay, he gets how it works with men-women and he knows it can be done same-sex wise but he’s not going to admit the fact that he has no idea the specifics, but no, he has no idea, and part of him is kinda afraid that that won’t ever happen anyway because hahaha just look at him, sure, they can do the cute kisses and hugs thing fine but actual sexual intimacy he’ll probably never want--

quill’s opinion on the subject is i have done so much weirder so me being sexually attracted to rocket is not surprising, he’s my boyfriend after all so?? yeah ofc

rocket would legitimately be shocked by that and quill just holds him in his arms and just softly sighs with a grin you’re never gonna really realize it and i know you won’t, but i think you’re incredibly handsome, ‘kay? you’re beautiful and someday i’m gonna get you to see that, too

that pretty much entirely wins over rocket because the fact that he sounds so sincere and he’s so caring and perfect and flark it, i’m his

of course their first time would be a bit confusing on rocket’s part because oh i lift up my tai--OH...that’s....that’s what happens, okay, um,...okay, i trust you

note that quill has probably made sure that everyone else on the team is off doing something else for the night because he highly suspects that rocket is not the quiet type and lord is he right not that it probably isn’t pretty hot, though, and he’d never say it to rocket out loud but holy shit rocky is good at playing up the submissive angle

not that rocket doesn’t know that, of course, and he’d gladly manipulate that if he so pleased

the sex is good but the day after their first time?? rocket is having a lot of trouble with this ‘can’t sit down’ portion of things and he is swearing far more than normal because D’AAAAAAST IT HURTS and quill is barely keeping himself from cracking up, rocket just glares at him every now and then but he’s pretty sure it was worth it

by the way, yes, rocket does have heats quill will just immediately go WELL, ROCKET AND I ARE GOING ON VACATION FOR A LITTLE WHILE WE’LL SEE YOU SOMETIME SOON C’MON ROCKY LET’S GO the rest of the guardians have to handle things for a while, that’s fine, mostly, though at some point someone probably does call in asking for the ‘leader’ and gamore just has to go yeah, he’s on vacation the other person pauses and goes okay what about the second in command he’s on vacation too ...third in command? you’re speaking to her

so yeah, i don’t believe rocket is inexperienced with sex in general, just sex with guys he has no idea until quill shows him how it’s done (and ofc quill knows, peter quill is completely pansexual and i will not hear otherwise)

something else worth noting: headcanon that celestials are very very intent on reproduction whether it be with women or men so whoops, sorry rocket, your boyfriend is half-living god so he could easily knock you up on accident

OKAY THAT PART’S OVER BACK TO CUTE

THIS IS CUTE IF YOU’RE DOWN WITH ROQUILL MPREG OTHERWISE SKIP AND YEAH, I DID A FANFIC A LONG WHILE BACK BUT THESE THOUGHTS ARE MORE IRONED OUT

okay so about that rocket getting accidentally knocked up situation that’s a very viable possibility

rocket throwing up is probably nothing new because the raccoon drinks a lot and even he is just like okay this is worse than normal but nothing completely unexpected until he deliberately refrains from drinking one night and still ends up puking so??? maybe i’m just sick idfk

it’s only when he starts realizing that he’s getting a bit more chubby is the sign that makes him go okay what no this shouldn’t be happening i’m not eating any more than normal what is going on quill, being quill, has a natural aversion to hospitals and doctors offices because they give him the bad worrying feelings that he tries really really hard to ignore because no, rocket needs this and they both crack up at the idea of oh, rocket’s pregnant, ha up until they realize that ‘quill is half-celestial’ bit of things and it all slowly starts to piece together that no, this isn’t a joke

rocket is horrified, by the way, and freaks out pretty bad because FOR ONE I’M A GUY, FOR TWO WHAT THE HELL IS IT GOING TO LOOK LIKE WITH A COMBINATION OF OUR GENES?? FOR THREE okay, imagine this all turns out okay, do you really think either of us are mature enough for this??

that last one quill just kinda quietly goes well i mean you were really good when groot was a baby so

and it’s obvious quill feels awful about this because this wouldn’t even be a thing if not for him

rocket just lightly sighs and just nuzzles into him and goes look, neither of us knew, i’m not mad at you, i’m just...scared. really, really, really, really scared. but i guess this is happening, whether we like it or not, so....

he just tries to chuckle

because his next words are you realize that this gives me an excuse to be even more pissy than normal, right? ...ain’t that gonna be fun. good luck.

he’s not lying, either

normal rocket is bad, pregnant rocket is a terror that is not yet known to the hearts of mankind, those mood swings are HORRIFYING and the only ones able to calm him are quill, groot, and mantis if she uses her powers and she probably has to at least once

rocket is very upset that he can’t drink at the moment, by the way, even if everyone else sees that as a good thing, he probably tries to more than once and everyone has to make sure that the alcohol is kept away from him

plus, when he’s getting further into the pregnancy, the fact that he can’t go on missions outright pisses him off because WHO CARES IF I’M KIND OF FAT, FIGHT ME, I STILL HAVE THE FASTEST TRIGGER-FINGER IN TWENTY-SEVEN GALAXIES, YOU ALL NEED ME, and he eventually relents because quill is the one person who can convince him into anything through sweet words and rocket kinda hates it but he’s in too deep at this point so quill is able to get him to stay on the ship even if rocket ends up being a bit huffy at it all

the delivery has to be c-section obviously because of the whole ‘being male’ thing, and this entire time rocket has expected it to be some horrifying thing that’d live for like three minutes or so and then die

but no, perfectly fine little girl with big brown eyes and raccoon ears and tail and he just is lying there completely dumbfounded meanwhile everyone else just. they love her. rocket loves her too but he’s just so surprised he didn’t even think of a name or anything he was just going to call it ‘the thing that came from me’ because he heavily expected some kind of furred misshapen creepy thing but no, she’s adorable

the first name that comes ti his mind is lucille, or lucy (because of course, rocket is originally a gigantic beatles reference) so she ends up with full name lucille meredith quill

she’s probably a cheerful little thing, honestly, but she will grab at and try to bite anything and everything, the only ones able to stop her are her dads or groot, she loves groot

she ends up having brown hair, raccoon ears on top of her head, big brown eyes, raccoon tail, and she acts a lot like rocket she is tomboyish, smart, and she has her little upset spells where she’ll only speak to either of her two dads or groot but she’s also a bit more lighthearted and she can easily have quill’s natural talent at being sociable if she so pleases, it’s just that predictably she thinks most people are idiots which rocket agrees with without hesitation he will not disagree bc when his baby girl is right she’s right people are dumb

she’s still a bit more lighthearted and friendly, but she clearly has a lot of rocket’s personality in her while she looks a lot like quill

and much like rocket, she will bite at anyone who tries to touch her without her explicit permission and her ears will twitch when she’s excited, she’s a cute little thing and her dads love her very much

OKAY THAT’S IT FOR NOW I THINK I’LL PROBABLY HAVE MORE LATER, BUT YEAH

#roquill #Guardians of the Galaxy

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Indie & Rio

Indie: can we chat? Rio: 'Course we can Indie: you still mad tho? Rio: No Rio: Serious Indie: me either Indie: my heart b heavy but not w that Rio: What's wrong, babe? Indie: all things Indie: its bad here Rio: How bad? Indie: dred like i dont wanna drag you back in but i cant cope w it Rio: Don't worry about me Rio: I'll have to sort some stuff here but how soon do you need me back Rio: and what can I do 'til then, like Indie: let me be w you i wont 2s mckenna or no thing Indie: but i gotta be out Indie: theres too many fucking situations Rio: alright Rio: of course Rio: i'll sort the uber now, where am I sending it Rio: is it the things i know or has something else, or multiple something else's happened? Indie: [sends random ass location because honestly where the fuck she wanna be rn] Indie: theres more and worse Indie: how you want it? Rio: First tell me you're safe Rio: then tell me however's easiest for you Indie: I'm proper high rn are they gonna let me come to london? Rio: Yeah, obviously don't bring anything but if it's gone it's gone Rio: You'll be fine Indie: safe Indie: i got none left to bring Indie: it been like that Rio: Damn Rio: Say no more, but do Indie: i get why my ma werent trying to do nothing but this Indie: cept its there still when you come thru Rio: That's the problem Indie: cant keep it goin innit cant keep no thing goin Indie: cant keep drew from wildin acting like a younger bringin feds to my door and my boy on my back cos hes fave target Indie: neither chatting to me like i done this Indie: did i? idk Rio: Nah, you didn't Rio: I can't even expand on it because just no, how could it be you Indie: thats how the boy treating me like i livin for the drama Indie: but the feds want drew in the pen & thats how he want it cos theres nothing left for him to fuck up in these ends Indie: i cant stop it none Rio: That ain't you though Rio: and who would be about this shit, it's the worst Rio: As for Drew Rio: I'm sorry Rio: We've been here before, there's no talking to him when he's in that space Rio: and that isn't on you Indie: every day we on this he be spitting angry at me throwing shit around but acting like im the one creating Indie: its too hard Indie: and yeah then theres drew back on his bullshit Indie: w the only apology yours to hold cos he aint offering Indie: i want him gone & i put that out into the universe so mayb i did it Indie: this is proper gone tho & that baby gonna be born soon Rio: Oh babe Rio: He don't know you like that, he shouldn't be treating you like that, standard Rio: even if you were the biggest drama queen in the world but you ain't and he got you so fucked up on that Rio: Nah, he's doing it all himself, even if you thought you wanted it or still do if not this way Rio: you can't make him do the dirt he do, or make him not Rio: The baby will be good, it'll have it's Ma and Bea is staying with her still and everyone else, you know it'll be okay Rio: what about you though baby Indie: how i let him chat to me that way? who am i rn? wtf Indie: i just want our yard back and you back and things to be what they were Indie: but its not Indie: cos even if we there what kinda ma she trying to be for real? im spinning out but like where in the universe is she @ Indie: & none of this is gonna hurt you most Indie: thats the last thing i aint chatted Rio: We've all put up with shit we shouldn't have Rio: 'cos we thought it'd pay off Rio: You ain't alone in that, nor does it make you less you even if it makes you feel less altogether Rio: I can try to talk to Drew, about the flat, idk if I can make that happen but if he goes jail he loses his lease, he only kept it in the past 'cos his boss' would pay it if he dealt inside, like but he ain't got the clout he used to have Rio: accept it or nah, no doubt we could chat about me taking it on if it comes to that but i ain't making promises Rio: I know but, you gotta trust we will all be there for damage control Rio: we're all alright ish, yeah? Rio: Go ahead, babe, I can handle it Indie: i got caught up cos i wanted someone to be for me & about me one time & everyone else has somewhere to lean Indie: you and mckenna being goals in my face Indie: everything else was a mess but i just added Indie: and now she has Indie: cos what i gotta tell you is bills told me edie be gone Indie: hardcore packed up and run out Rio: i know there's nothing i can say to make you feel less shit about it but i swear to you babe, we've all been there Rio: you know i have Rio: it doesn't make it better for you but it ain't your fuckup, it's one we all go through to grow through, yeah? no bullshit Rio: she did talk to buster but Rio: i didn't think it'd be anything more than normal Rio: i'll tell ma Indie: i reckoned bills was gonna cry she was carrying that much worry Indie: i aint no what to tell her Rio: I'll talk to her too Rio: I don't know what I'll say but Rio: it'll be alright, we can sort this Indie: i been swerving dem all hard as you Indie: more than she got detention for how hard she was trying to hit me up she said Indie: doing everyone the dirtiest ever why i gotta leave Rio: I can't blame you Rio: This shit is hard Rio: and painful Rio: I'm sorry I left you alone Indie: he aint try and fuck me i got no excuses Indie: [sends selfie] am I 😢 I can't feel it so what you seeing? Indie: not trying to be out here in the wild 💔😭 Rio: Baby calm down okay, you're good Rio: Your flight is booked and the uber is en-route Rio: I sent all your deets to you, all you gotta do is get here Rio: we're gonna sort all this okay and the shit we can't we gonna make bearable at least Indie: i dont have anything tho cant b living in mckennas garms after the last Indie: he gon b mad enough im rolling up likely Rio: No he won't Rio: I got plenty of shit you can borrow don't stress on that Rio: Nance has got a mental wardrobe here too Indie: o yeah other mckenna Indie: always sleeping on her living there too Indie: she aint but she do Rio: Exactly, I've had to borrow her bed loads of times before and you know they living that en-suite life Rio: you can stay for as long as you need Indie: innit what school gon do put drew in prison? 😂 Rio: Tbh Rio: In the grand scheme of things, that doesn't matter rn, soz teachers Indie: ill screenshot them words like my ma says Rio: I missed you Indie: safe cos imma be in your face soon Rio: wish it was under better circumstances, like Rio: but we'll get there Indie: @ the age to have a breakdown once a wk soz bout it 😂 Rio: that i can handle Rio: nothing that a pint of ben & jerry's and some chill time can't Indie: warn mckenna to lock up his squad & we all good Rio: 😏 Will do Rio: he's not really rolling with them rn so temptation should be outta the way Indie: 😍💍 be like Indie: i feel it Rio: Erm I ain't that hoe 😣😂 Indie: theres how you say & how you do bitch 😏💘😂 Indie: 👀 you from the front row in a few Rio: 🙄😔 am I really that bad Indie: nah nah Indie: mckenna be amp as Indie: its a good link Rio: Yeah but I mean Rio: do you feel like I've been ignoring you Rio: pre you know, that bullshit Indie: allow it babe Indie: you never done nobody that way Rio: Promise Rio: 'cos that ever what I was trying to be Indie: you always on the clock & your game Indie: trust Rio: Alright, 'nuff about me Rio: is there anything else you need, either now or for when you get here? Indie: gon need to grab my shit while 👻ing this boy Indie: standard juggle Indie: if hes been holding that long & not dashed it out ill break in Rio: You're gonna take some mates with you, yeah? Indie: bitch please i dont need the lads knoing my business that hard Rio: is it a good idea tho, even if he got his own van u kno they all got each other's backs, like Rio: be careful, all i'm saying Indie: they aint gonna call the feds on me man Indie: ill leave it til im back need a clearer head than this for a lock pick Rio: Yeah, don't worry 'bout it now Rio: anything replaceable we can sort now Indie: im not tryin to lose my head over things rn Indie: if imma be in london i got what i need Rio: That's the main thing Rio: and I ain't gonna come at you with 20 questions either, like Rio: space can include from me, just lemme know what you're feeling Indie: i been had enough space from you girl Indie: i miss you Rio: was hoping you'd say that Indie: i love you more than Indie: thats the mood Rio: i love you too Rio: no outs Indie: dont lets lose each other again Indie: 💖💖 Rio: never 🧡 Indie: how long this uber tryna be im 😫😫😫 Indie: imma b sleepin on this wall like i kicking it nursery rhyme vibes Rio: it's saying it's nearly there on the app Rio: if you gonna crash at the airport make sure you near the gate tho Indie: safe Indie: o sick idea Indie: the plane not trying to be up long enough for that shit tho innit Rio: legit its as quick as the bus into town like Rio: be here in no time Indie: its a madness Rio: yeah, see, it's not that far really Indie: feels like Indie: but mayb thats just how i want it so i can 👻 this town harder than afore Rio: it's far enough for that Rio: ain't letting drew out the country are they Indie: 😂😂😂 Indie: not less they start deporting crooks old school like when 🐨 country just one big pen Rio: He wishes Rio: always got his top off like we living that life here Indie: fr like he needs a tan to appear more peng nah nah Rio: if we wanna get a new wifey Rio: least if she out there we unlikely to be related to her so go off Indie: true true Indie: unless he tryna head to spain for my nan we all good Rio: 😬 Rio: yikes, not a mental image we need Indie: idk i hear she keeps things tight & fresh Indie: hes done worse Rio: Stop 😩 Rio: 'less you gonna bring me one of them sick bags Indie: get you a straw donkey when he drag me out there for the 💒 Indie: i got you Rio: when u don't wanna be nan but u down to be ma Indie: least she too old to put a 👶 in Indie: & it aint like being down to be ma is top of his list for how he want his wifeys Indie: that ones just for you like Indie: ro not trying to mother me no mind the one she growing rn Rio: Fair Rio: Willing to put up with his shit and mother him is clearly more vital Rio: 'low it with the mommy issues like he's the only one going without Rio: twat Indie: o snap Indie: just cos yours aint want you boy dont mean you gotta kill mine tho Rio: o snapped too soon Rio: but he ain't get snapped on enough for that Indie: when he offering you dem same goodies ☠ Indie: thanks dad Indie: you a real one Rio: waste Rio: he's so fucked Indie: i was 👍 Indie: down & out Indie: what that make me? Rio: you a kid Rio: not chatting down to you, but you allowed to be is what I mean Rio: he's grown and he caused your shit, he should know and do better so you could Rio: literally his job Indie: idc now if he show up for astrid thatd do man Indie: grown past him still Rio: Yeah Rio: we'll have to wait n see if he can be arsed to prove himself Rio: idk if he's been allowed near since you know Indie: not from what ive 👂 Indie: coulda changed since he stopped chatting at me tho Indie: or he coulda just been chattin it so it dont look his fault he swervin Rio: wouldn't blame them from keeping him away rn, your hormones are fucked and she's never had much sense when it came to him Rio: but i don't know if it's a forever deal or what Indie: i can see her lawin it cos he burned her so hard w this Indie: proper owned Indie: she aint tryin to let you come thru & you fam so Rio: well you know Indie: cant call her out that hard when it aint that different from how my ma tryin to be when Indie: they all 🤡 for him Rio: yeah Rio: i don't get it Rio: whatever, he's good looking Indie: so your da he aint a wasteman w it Rio: it's easier to be treated like shit sometimes though than accept the love init Indie: call out 🔫 at me bitch Rio: not what i was going for Rio: just saying he ain't special with it, we all do it Indie: 👀 you Rio: 😏 shh Indie: 😂 Rio: neway Rio: he's out, yeah? Indie: innit Rio: 👍 Indie: how you livin Indie: gimme dat 411 Rio: yeah good tbh, the place where i work is cool Rio: i'm just doing promo stuff 'cos i don't wanna get too into anything obvs but it's fun, not dry like the angel was getting Indie: sick! they gonna let me in or ⛔ Rio: see what i can do Rio: sure we get u made up no one gonna be too amp Indie: dont 🤡 me Indie: keep it 💋 Rio: oi don't be doubting my skillz Rio: you ever seen me out like that 😂 rude Indie: doubtin my ability to carry all that Indie: you ever seen me in 👠 bitch Rio: you don't need 'em when you out with me Rio: only just be touching your height in mine so Indie: 😂😂😂 Rio: 😣 be looking stupid short 'round here Indie: you will stand w mckenna Rio: what i'm sayin Indie: 😍 gotta travel far 💖💖 baby Indie: good thing he extra too Rio: 😂 Indie: hows the love Rio: I don't wanna be extra about it at you Rio: but it is good Rio: and no one totally flipped shit on it so Indie: im not that 💔💔💔 you cant speak on it Indie: boy dont get to do me dirty and keep me pining long Rio: That's my girl Rio: 💪 Indie: throw shit @ me again he gon catch these hands Rio: serious, what a cunt Rio: he ain't gonna have the chance Indie: do me a solid & dont tell the fam yeah? your ma only just calmin after wanting to merk drew Rio: 'course Rio: you got it handled Rio: they don't need to know every little thing Indie: i did nearly run there the other thinkin i was gonna be baby'd up same time as my step ma near Indie: but nah 🍀 Rio: remind me to take you drs yeah Rio: 😰 Indie: its chill i not letting any lads near me in the 24 or out of Rio: still, with your memory, i don't think the pill is the one we'll get you the implant maybe Rio: or the coil, they last time Indie: sexy Indie: he was wrapped but it got fucked up idk was wild Indie: get them posho london drs to sort me 😂😂😂 Rio: nah you wanna be the one in control of that shit babe trust Indie: 👑👑👑 Indie: i feel that Rio: boys be mad dumb that shit could be old or ripped there's no telling Indie: fr 😒😒🙄🙄 Indie: he only got a year on me too idc how many girls he tryna chat he been w he dont kno that much Rio: You can defs take off at least 20% of whatever he chatting Rio: Trust Indie: serious? Rio: Probably Rio: or think about how many of them were like Rio: 5 minute fumbles at parties and shit Rio: doesn't really do much for your game even if its a numbers booster Indie: tell me mckennas i wont say shit to him swear down Rio: 😂 i would but idk Rio: i ain't asked Indie: girl WHAT Indie: bitch imma do it for you Indie: we taking off like 90% for him 'cause how he like to chat or nah? Indie: 😂😂😂😂 Rio: I can imagine like, I don't need confirmation Rio: Poor baby 😂 Indie: do he kno your numbers? Rio: Nope Rio: 'less he tryna keep track like that which I doubt lmao Indie: its jam we can keep em on 🔒 Rio: Idc I'd tell you Rio: but he ain't wanna know trust Indie: boy too jel Indie: how they all be Rio: you know Indie: drew be tellin me how to do w my body like he something to me so we can let mckenna stand Rio: yeah that's a whole nother thing Rio: that ain't cute or wanted Indie: he aint 😂😂😂 Rio: truth hurts 😂 Indie: innit tho Rio: ur uber says its there so pull up Indie: i be waving to someone Indie: gotta b Rio: kinda excited even though it's cos everything is shit Indie: it me you gotta be hype 💖💖💖 Rio: That's alright then 😘 Indie: what mckenna say bout it? Rio: He's cool, gonna talk to his Dad so we don't have to Rio: getting food too to show he can, like Indie: trying to flex o boy Rio: ever since you dissed him Rio: gotta get good Indie: he need be told 👌 Indie: bring 🍔 🍕🍟 any of Indie: it aint hard if you smart Rio: idk if he taking orders but i'll let him know 😏 Indie: hit him w a screenshot and add 🥊 or 💪 Indie: 💍💍💍 life be like Rio: You have no idea babe Rio: getting it from both of yous again now 😜 Indie: is it? he wearin the 👖 thats how you 😍😍 Indie: i been knew Indie: 💘💘💘 Rio: Shut up 😩 Rio: That just how it be in the bedroom don't get it twisted Indie: 😏😏 when he such a daddy you let him wear the 👑 out 😏😏😏 Rio: yeah you lucky you still a flight away Rio: 🥊 'fore 💋 forreal Indie: 😂😂😂😂

0 notes

fallen029 · 7 years

Text

Girl Talk

"I feel like you haven't been in town forever."

"What are ya? Gettin' all girly on me?"

"No," Cana said with a roll of her eyes as Bacchus settled down into his seat. "It's just nice to finally have someone that can keep up with me around to drink with."

"I feel that," he agreed. "Or I would. If you could keep up with me, lightweight."

"Shuddup."

Giving her one of his grins, he started to retort, but it was then that Mirajane Strauss passed, carrying a round of beers over to another table, and his eyes found more interest in that. Cana took notice and, once more, rolled her eyes before calling out to her friend.

"Hey, Mira," she said to the woman. "Can we get some barrels over here?"

"Of course, Cana," she said, glancing back over at them. Throwing a down a wink, she said, "And you know I love it when you bring friends."

Considering it was such a rare occurrence, no, Cana didn't. Bacchus though only chuckled at the words before drifting his attention back to the woman in front of him.

"Hate comin' around your damn guild," he told her then. "Too many women. But-"

"-at the same time," she finished his usual saying about Fairy Tail for him, "too many women. Am I right?"

That time, the teeth came out in his grin. "You definitely are, lightweight."

"Stop calling me that."

"Touchy today, aren't we?" He was still glancing around then. "Hey, is Erza around?"

"Why? Lookin' to get your ass kicked?"

"Ha!" He banged a fist on the table at that. "You're on fire today, Cana. Really. No, keep this up."

"What do you want Erza for anyhow?" she asked. "Truthfully?"

"Ain't no one as fun to bother as Titania." Then his eyes fell to her again. "'cept maybe you."

"Here, Lax, set them down right here."

That made both Cana and Bacchus look up. It was Mirajane, of course, directing Laxus to lug over two barrels of wine to their table. The slayer seemed to be in his usual down mood and only grunted at the sight of the Quatro Cerberus member.

"Don't the two of you have somewhere better to get wasted?" he grumbled out through his frown. "There has to be somewhere-"

"Dragon, behave," Mirajane said with a frown to which he only rolled his eyes. "Besides, I like Bacchus."

"Yeah, man." Bacchus was rather brave, it appeared, and even threw down a second wink to Mirajane. "Your woman likes me."

"You-"

"Okay, Lax, that's all I needed!" Mirajane was quick to grab the man's arm and drag him away, though his smoldering gaze never left Bacchus. The drunk only laughed before starting on his barrel.

"Nice going," Cana said with a roll of her eyes. "What? Do you just live to get people all riled up?"

"And to get wasted," he assured her. "You?"

Still, she was staring after Laxus and Mirajane, the former glaring their way all the same.

"Maybe we should have gotten drinks at somewhere else," she mumbled. There hadn't been a chance for that though, as she hadn't even known that Bacchus was stopping by to see her, really. He rarely let her know in advance. Just showed up at the guildhall when he was around. Either that or sought her out at bars around Magnolia. It was much the same in the few times she chose to visit his guildhall.

"You think I'm scared of that one over there, huh?" Bacchus snorted. "The only one I'm concerned with around here is Titania. The rest of you are child's play."

"There." She nodded at him though she was moving to start on her own barrel then. "You mentioned her again."

"Man, you are turning into a woman."

"I am not," she retorted, though she wasn't sure why that should be such an insult to her. "If you came here for Erza though, fine. I'll go find her for you and-"

"I can come for more than one reason, you know," he grumbled with a frown. "And you're acting worse than the last time we saw one another."

"I was drunk."

"Ain't an excuse someone like you can use," he said with a shake of his head. "You're always drunk."

"It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Was too." He was chortling again and, that time, when she saw his teeth behind his grin, it wasn't as appealing.

That was the problem that she'd seemed to encounter with Bacchus recently. She was usually so nonchalant about all things. He was just beginning to get under her skin and she couldn't figure out why.

Err, okay, so she could figure out why, but she didn't want it to be the case. Not at all.

"Just stop talking about it," she grumbled as he snickered some more.

"I've had some ticked off women before," he went on, never knowing when to just quit. "But man, lightweight, you sure flipped. And over nothing! It wasn't like we had plans or somethin'. You can't just show up at the guildhall and expect me to be free, you know. I'm in high demand!"

"Stop talking about it." That time her tone was darker. "I'm serious."

"Just come and break up some date I have, showing up at the bar I was at like I shouldn't have some attractive lady with me. What do you think I do in my spare time, huh? Maybe around here you losers sit around and talk to one another, but I have a life, you know." It was that last wink that did it. "And a very excitable one at- Hey!"

Cana didn't even think about it. He was so distracted with himself that he hadn't noticed the card in her hand that she flung at him. The glowing item bounced off his left purple arm armor, but then, it wasn't meant to hit him. Only to get him to actually pay her attention.

"I said," she hissed, eyes dark, "to stop talking about it."

Leaning across the table then, his grin grew sinister. "You lookin' for a fight, fairy? 'cause I'll gladly pound ya into the floor, if that's what you're lookin' for."

For a moment, they had an intense glaring match going though, almost simultaneously, they both slumped back in their seat and looked off.

Suddenly having a drink with one another was a lot less appealing.

"Apparently," Bacchus grumbled as he got to his feet, "things ain't as smoothed over as I thought. Whatever though. Sure there's plenty of other bars to drink at than this shit hole."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Cana said simply, "Good riddance."

"You're a tough one to figure out, lightweight." And, with that, he staggered off, giving a slight wave over his shoulder as well as a request. "I'll be checkin' into one of these hotels around town. Got some business here for the week. You get in a better place, look me up, huh? When you stop being such a woman about things, I mean."

That about got him a card to the back of the head, but Cana was able to hold off. If she hit him (or even just tossed one at him), that would reignite the fight and she wasn't much up for that. Or being shown up. Because as much as she hated him in that moment, she'd hand it to Bacchus. He was a tough one. And she liked to think of them as friend, maybe even more, but at the end of the day, they were both capable mages with very big reputations. Not to mention they were essentially from rival guilds (in some sense of the word) and neither would ever allow themselves to be shown up by the other.

And that was how Cana ended up finishing off her barrel and was just starting on the one that was meant for her friend when Erza showed up. She was headed over for the bar, no doubt to order something eat from Mirajane, but stopped at the sight of Cana for some reason.

"Sour day?"

"Wha're ya talkin' about?"

Erza nodded at the other woman as she came to a stop in front of her table. "The expression you are wearing hardly looks like your usual one. You seem upset."

"Nothin' comes to mind," she responded. "You?"

"My day is as uneventful as all the others."

Says the woman that slayed monsters and saved hordes of people on a weekly basis. Cana only stared though.

"Bacchus was by," she said slowly after a moment. "Was lookin' for you."

"Really?" That time, it was Erza that made a face, just from name recognition alone. "How unpleasant."

Grunt.

"Was there anything specific he wanted?"

Cana shrugged. "Didn't say."

"Yes, well, when you see him again, please request that my name not leave his filthy snout again. It would be much obliged."

"Tell him yourself."

Erza, who had turned to walk off, stopped at that. "Come again?"

Cana wasn't that drunk. No, she knew that if she wasn't even willing to go up against a sober Bacchus, then taking on Erza wasn't happening. Sighing slightly, she just stared up at the woman with depressing eyes.

"He and I probably won't be talking for awhile. Again."

Glancing around for help, Erza found that Lucy wasn't around, Levy was buried in a pile of books, and Mirajane was busy flirting with Laxus. Great. She was stuck.

"W-Well, that is unfortunate," the swordswoman said slowly, still hoping for one of the other women (or Happy) to swoop in at the last moment to deal with whatever situation it was she was finding herself in. No such luck. "Considering that the two of you enjoy one another so much. It is a rare occurrence, I am sure, for him to find someone that enjoys his rude remarks and drunkenness."

"Not according to him, it's not."

Was she really going to make her do it? Was Erza really going to have to sit down and talk about Bacchus? She hated to even think of it. Shouldn't Mirajane's match maker senses be going off or something? Huh? Why was she stuck with something like this?

Of course, what with all those erotic novels she read, she did have some tips and tricks she'd learned over the years, but most of those didn't work in real life. She was assuming of course. Ha ha.

Ugh.

Slowly, the reequip mage took a seat on the other side of the table though Cana seemed uninterested with this and continued to sip away at the barrel.

"I am assuming that the two of you had a fight," Erza said then. It seemed to be a safe enough bet.

"You could say that."

"And that he said something to upset you."

That one got a shrug.

"Now," Erza went on, "you are upset with him and he has gone on to sleep with all your friends as revenge, but the two of you will be reunited soon enough and there is nothing to worry about, really."

Cana took to frowning as Erza stared.

"Is that a no?"

"Can't you go bother someone else?" the drunk asked with a frown. "There's nothing wrong here. Just move along."

"Perhaps I was off base with the end of what I said-"

"Perhaps," Cana repeated dryly.

"But," the other woman kept up, "there is clearly some sort of rift between the two of you. And though I think that should be preferable, considering who we are speaking of-"

"Taking into account that you're constantly busy lusting after a guy that enslaved and killed countless people," Cana said with an even stare, "I think that you should keep your opinions to yourself."

Erza's eyes darkened. "You-"

"Did someone mention Jellal?"

And then Titania about fell out of her seat as, suddenly, at her side Mirajane appeared, a very confused Laxus left up at the bar, staring over at them in shock.

"How did you-"

"Oh, Erza, I have a sixth sense about these things," Mirajane said as she sat down. "So you did mention him? Hmmm? What was it about? Something juicy?"

Cana only rolled her eyes as Erza glared.

"No," the redheaded S-Class mage told the white haired one. "And how is that you knew we were speaking of him, but did not notice this whole time that I was trying to get Cana to talk about Bacchus?"

Mirajane tossed a hand at that. "Bacchus and Cana are just friends."

"Jellal and I are just friends!"

"Sure." Mira giggled. "Just friends."

"We are!"

"I'm telling you, Erza, I have a sense about this stuff," the take over mage insisted. "Like how I know that Gray and Lucy are meant to be together."

"Natsu and Lucy are the ones that are dating."

"Gray, Natsu, what's the difference?"

Cana only rolled her eyes. "Not that the two of you aren't entertaining, but-"

"Demon." Then Laxus was over at the table, frowning down at the women, though his glare was mostly directed at his girlfriend. "You were in the middle of telling me how awesome I was back there. What gives?"

"Oh, Lax, I'm working."

"Working? You're sittin' around blabbing with Cana and Erza!"

"About work related stuff."

"Like what?"

"How Erza here's in love with Jellal." Mirajane wagged her eyebrows at her boyfriend. "Juicy stuff, huh?"

Erza's cheeks were about the color of her hair then. "Mirajane, if you do not knock it off, I will-"

"If," Cana complained, "I told you two what was bothering me, would you go away?"

"Oh? Something's bothering you too?" Mira glanced at Cana with a devious grin. "Do share."

"No. Demon, no sharing. We were having a pay attention to Laxus moment back there," the slayer complained.

"This is more important."

"You're gonna make me develop a complex!"

"Oh, the day you get complex is the day the world turns out to be flat."

"Mira-"

"Are you seriously upset with this, Laxus?" Erza raised an eyebrow. "I mean-"

"You stay out of this," he grumbled. "Jellal lover."

"You-"

"Guys, shush," Mira ordered. "I'm talking to Cana now. We can talk about Jellal later."

"No, we can't."

Laxus though only glared at the three of them. He'd known the women his whole life. Arguing with the three of them was futile. Especially when they were arguing amongst themselves to begin with.

"Five minutes, Mira," he grumbled, turning to head over to the table the Thunder Legion was occupying. "I mean it."

"Sure, dragon."

After he was gone, the demon gestured to Cana.

Sighing, the woman took a few more gulps of her wine before trying to tell the story as emotionlessly as she did everything else.

"Last time I went to hang out with Bacchus," she began as Erza continued to try and hide her blush and Mirajane leaned across the table, all ears. "I stopped by his guildhall to find him. I didn't even know if he was town. But some of his guild members told me that he was at one of the local bars, so I headed over. And…"

"And what?" Mira's eyes were practically perfect circles then, she was that intrigued. "Cana?"

"It's stupid."

"Then let's mercifully kill it," Erza suggested, starting to get to her feet. "If you are satisfied, then I am."

Mirajane only reached over and pulled the other S-Class back into her seat. "Go on, Cana."

Staring up at the ceiling, she said, "He was on a…date, I guess, and I don't really remember it all because I was drunk and-"

"What?" Mira could hardly contain her grin then. "What is it? Did you make a scene? Did you hit her? Did you hit him? Did he hit you? Tell me!"

Erza was trying her hardest to look uninterested, but Cana could tell from the way she was staring at her that she wanted the information as well.

"No," the drunk groaned with a roll of her eyes. "It was just…you know."

"Clearly," the she-devil complained. "I don't. Stop playing cool. What did you do? Huh? It's alright. This will just stay between the three of us."

"Right."

"It will." Then Mirajane frowned. "And the dragon, I guess. And Lisanna. Ooh, and Lucy-"

"Tell her," Erza said. "Else she will tell all of those people and more her own fabricated version of things."

"That might happen either way," Mira agreed.

Cana stared at the ceiling for a moment, thinking before she spoke again. "Like I said, he was out on a date and it kind of shocked me. But I had come all the way there, so I just went over to his table to at least talk to him."

"Did he reject you?"

"Reject her?" Erza frowned at Mira. "All she did was come to speak with him. What world do you live in?"

"Shut up, Jellal lover."

"I will kill you and your stupid boyfriend."

"Bring it."

"If you guys would rather fight-" Cana tried, but Mira's eyes were back on her in seconds.

"No, no. Go on. Laxus and I can kill Erza later."

The swordswoman only snorted. "The quicker you finish, Cana, I can teach them a thing or two."

Sighing, the drunk went on. "Anyhow, he invited me to have a drink with him and this woman. I could tell she was a little put out by it, but I didn't really think it was that big of a deal. It was just a drink. Or it was supposed to be. But me and Bacchus can never just have one drink, I guess."

"Not to be a bother, but I do only have five minutes here," Mirajane said. "Get to the good stuff."

"She could finish if you would stop interrupting."

"I'm sorry, Erza, are you even really needed here?"

"You would even be over here if it wasn't for-"

"Anyways," Cana said over them, "we both got more and more plastered. And, eventually, when his date went off to the bathroom, he started bragging to me about he was about to score with that woman and all this garb."

"And you went into a jealous rage?" Mira prompted, eyes alight. Erza only gave her a sideways glance.

"A moment ago," she complained, "you were insistent that they were just friends."

"Well, yeah, everyone's just friends at some point," she said. "And what happened to not interrupting, Erza?"

"You-"

"That's not the point," Cana told them with a frown. "I didn't care that he and that woman… I mean, I guess I wasn't thrilled with the idea or anything, but it's not like he and I…"

"If that's not the point," Mira asked slowly that time. "Then what is?"

"Well, while we were sittin' there, talkin' about it or whatever, he just suddenly asked me…"

"Yes?"

"To join them."

Cana was expecting some sort of reaction out of the two women. Mirajane only frowned some, looking off. She was into the whole thing for the romantic side. That, however, did not sound romantic. At all. And Erza, who felt like she was practically listening to one of her romance novels then, leaned forward to hear more, but didn't seem to be shocked either.

"Nothing?" Cana asked. "I mean, you're not surprised or-"

"I'm a tad uncomfortable," Mirajane said slowly. "I mean, I definitely bit off more than I can chew, but no, I'm not shocked."

"Neither am I," Erza said with a shrug.

"Huh?"

"Cana, he, like, basically wanted the same thing from me and Lisanna than once," Mira pointed out.

"Yes, and I have always thought of him to be a dog," Erza agreed.

That made the card mage glare at them. "He was joking that time, Mira."

"Uh, no, he was pretty dang serious, I think. And that's disgusting. More disgusting than… I mean, we're sisters and he still-"

"I've never been fond of him," Erza said. "Anyhow, did you do it?"

"Wha- Are you honestly asking me that?"

"I take that as a yes?"

"No." Cana huffed then, looking off. "What? Do you two just think I'll do anything?"

When Erza and Mira both only stared, the woman glared at them.

"Well, I don't, thank you," she complained. "I do have standards. And-"

"Demon." Laxus was back. "Five minutes have been up and Bickslow's really annoying me, so I need you to calm me back down. I'm thinking maybe we start with talking about all my prowess in-"

"Laxus, not now," Mira complained. "Go-"

"I said five minutes. Now come-"

"Laxus." Cana looked to him. "Do I look like I do threesomes?"

He blinked. Then, and it might have been a trick of the light, but it looked like the slayer blushed. Then he coughed into his hand.

"I'll, uh, give you a few more minutes to wrap up, demon," he mumbled as he headed back off to the Thunder Legion's table.

"Thank you."

"Was that the point then?" Erza asked. "That he asked you to join him and then the two of you…what? Got into a fight?"

"Well, yeah, we did. He didn't get why I got all offended or whatever and then we didn't speak again for over a month. Until he showed up today, out of the blue, like it was nothing." She didn't mean to, but she did look down at the table then, as if saddened by the thought. Cana did so well at being apathetic to what was going on around her, but sometimes, she just wasn't up for faking it. "Then…I don't know. I just couldn't hang, I guess. I was too girly about the whole thing."

Erza, thoughtfully, looked up at the ceiling. "I suppose there are two things you could do in this situation."

"What?"

"You could act as if nothing has happened and go on with life," she suggested, "or you could agree to a threesome and then bring another man. Now that, is a plot twist."

"Or a sure fire way to get kicked out of Bacchus hotel room," Mira remarked with a frown. "Tell me, Erza, who was it that you brought with you to Jellal's then?"

Narrowing her eyes at the woman, Erza said, "I have never wished to harm you more."

Mira continued to stare at Cana though. "Since both of those ideas are useless-"

"Watch it, Mira."

"-how about this?" Sitting up straight, Mirajane said, "You just go seek him out and tell him how you feel."

Cana blinked. "Are you joking?"

"No. Why? Did it sound like a joke?"

Erza snorted. "Right. So back to my first suggestion. Act as if it were nothing and move on with life. Now, Mira, about that fight-"

"If you two are finished bothering me then, kindly leave, thanks." Cana went back to her wine. "This was a waste."

Well, Mira couldn't have that. Frowning, she said, "Cana, if you really want some advice, fine. Just tell me what you feel about the whole thing."

"What good would that do?"

"Have you told anyone?" Mira prompted. "Or even really thought it out yourself? No. I bet you've kept it buried and hidden, huh? Well, guess what? That won't do you any good. You guys will go back to just being friends and it will eat at you and he'll never realize that he did wrong. I mean, do you even really want to be with Bacchus? Or are you just upset that he assumed you were easy?"

Cana frowned. "I don't know. I haven't thought that much on it."

"Then you should do some thinking on it." And with that, Mira got to her feet. "But as it is, I have to go deal with my own problem right now. Who better stop picking on Bickslow! Laxus, I mean it!"

"They're my bodyguards, demon! I can do whatever I want!"

"He won't stop shootin' my babies," the seith complained.

"Behave, dragon!"

"No!"

As she headed off to deal with some of her and Laxus' usual self-made drama, Erza and Cana were, once again, left alone.

"Well," the swordswoman said slowly. "That was definitely…something."

Now that she'd gotten at least some of her problems off her chest, Cana was finally able to return to normal and only shrugged at the woman, face as bored and void as usual. Content then at least something had been resolved, Erza got to her feet.

"Let's…not do this again. Or at least not involve Mirajane," the reequip mage suggested.

"Agreed." Definitely.

Then, with a nod, Erza set off across the hall, far from Mira and her dragon as well as Cana and her barrel. Just how things were intended.

Resting her head on the table then, Cana shut her eyes, if only for a moment.

Did she want to be with Bacchus?

No. At least not how Mira was with Laxus. All in love and dating and… No. That just wasn't her.

But at the same time, she didn't want to be like Erza, constantly yearning, but never being allowed to grasp, no matter how long and hard she tried. That was more depressing than the thought of having a steady boyfriend that you had to remain faithful to sounded.

It wasn't until much later, when she arrived at their most frequented bar in Magnolia and she spotted him, hunched over the bar, drinking alone, that Cana knew what she wanted.

Bacchus didn't even lift his head when she sat down. Just mumbled out a, "Thought you'd never show."

"Yeah," she sighed as she flagged down the bartender. "Neither did I."

It took a few drinks to get either one of them to even rightly look at the other, but eventually, he asked, "So are we cool again? Or should I watch out for some flying cards?"

Staring down at her glass, Cana only shrugged and, with a sigh, Bacchus glanced up at the ceiling.

"If you're that pissed at me," he began and she was ready for him to walk out again. To go another month without seeing one another. Which shouldn't be too horrible. What man in her life was reliable? Friend or more? Even her father for that matter? "Then I'm sorry."

Cana thought she was too wasted to understand. "Huh?"

But he wouldn't look at her and her bewildered expression.

"Sometimes I forget, you know?" He shrugged slightly. "That you're not like all the other women I hang around."

"I'm not?"

"Of course not, lightweight." And then, when he looked at her, it was with a slight grin. "I'm not like all the other men in your life, am I?"

"Don't flatter yourself," she muttered softly which made him laugh and, at the sound of it, she cracked a grin too.

Then, raising the glass of whatever he was drinking towards her, Bacchus raised an eyebrow. "Loser pays?"

Considering she knew for a fact she had very little jewels on her and he would be stuck with the tab regardless, she nodded, raising her own.

"You're on."

So maybe the day had been a waste. All she'd really done was tell the biggest gossip in the guild that some guy propositioned her for a threesome and embarrassed Erza some. Not to mention made up with Bacchus (sort of). When she thought about it, that didn't seem like much at all.

The more intoxicated she got, however, the less she thought about it. And, like with most of her problems, in her mind that meant that it didn't exist.

So what if she wasn't sure what she and Bacchus were to one another? She knew that, apparently, he cared enough about her to actually apologize for something. That was a sentiment she'd never seen him pass down on someone before which had to mean something, right? And considering that even she didn't know what she wanted him to be to her, that couldn't be all bad.

Later that night, when she had passed out and, though he was the victor, he got stuck with both their tabs, Bacchus only paid them out before slinging one of Cana's arms around his shoulders and setting out.

"You," he grumbled to her as she bumbled along, hardly conscious, "are more work than you're worth. You know that, lightweight?"

"Mmmm."

As usual when she got that wasted, he bypassed Fairy Hills (then he'd have to deal with the other fairies and, honestly, she was the only one that he cared for) and took her straight to his hotel. Once there, he none too nicely tossed her on one of the beds in the tiny room before getting ready for bed himself.

Once his hair was down and his armor was off, he fell into the same, tiny bed, laying on his side, facing away from her.

"Don't choke on your vomit or somethin' over there, lightweight," he grumbled. "I ain't much up for having dead women show up in my hotel rooms. Least I don't make a habit of it."

And, when she was sure he was asleep, Cana only rolled onto her side to face him, not nearly as drunk as she liked to appear. If the idiot fell for it every time and paid the tab as well as gave her a nice, comfy bed to sleep in, why not? Eventually he'd catch on. But until then, she'd just keep using him to her advantage.

As Cana snuggled up to his back, resting her head against his guild marking, Bacchus only smiled in the darkness. Oh, he'd long caught on. He just enjoyed it all too much to let go it any time soon.

So somewhere between where Erza was in her (tiresome) denial with Jellal and Mirajane was in her (annoying) love with Laxus, Cana and Bacchus found their own peace. And sure, sometimes a boundary was crossed or a toe was stepped on, but in the end, the two drunks could weather it all and stay in their own little safe zone where they were both happy and content.

In the end, isn't that all that mattered?

#Jerza #CanaxBacchus #Miraxus #Jellal #Erza Scarlet #Mirajane #Laxus #Cana #Bacchus #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction

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gulescamisade · 6 years

Text

Virginia: Day 1

[One instant they're on the ship, and the next they're someplace else entirely. They seem to be outside, among trees, the forest floor covered in a small blanket of snow. For those who look around, they will see not everyone from the UU is present. Only Davenforth, Derek, Riley, Penny, Roxanne, Takoda, Gaizka, Lifera, Qirin, the Mayor, and the Grand High Blood. If they check, all their belongings they had on them before will still be there. Comm devices, anything in their sylladex, and even their strife specibus is intact.]

DAVENFORTH: -Okay what the fuck. First, he was waiting for some heartwarming family reunion to be over and next he's peeling himself off the forest floor. Been a long time since he had this sensation. Groggy, he stands, taking in his location and those around him. Shit.-

LIFERA: -DOOF. She certainly wasn't prepared for something this inane to happen, and she's glad she didn't equip her 2x3dent in the midst of all this. But this is.... suddenly incredibly cold, and she hisses, pushing herself up out of the snow and shivering immediately.-

ROXANNE: -Oh likewise Davenforth, but also seriously what the actual fuck. Can't there be a few hour period of family reunions WITHOUT things going to all hell in exchange like what the shit. Roxanne is sitting up and trying to adjust to the swimming headache that comes with being unceremoniously dumped with teleportation into some strange forest.- Ngh..

PENNY: -She's stumbling until she plops right back on her butt, dropping the cigarette she was holding and watching it fizzle out in the snow.- FUCK.

MAYOR: -FLAILS AROUND. WHAT IS THIS WHITE NONSENSE. WHAT MANNER OF TRAP HAS HE BEEN TELEPORTED TO-

LIFERA: A)(--!

HIGHBLOOD: =Man he was braiding his hair.... what the hell=

QIRIN: =She miraculously managed to land on her feet during this=

DAVENFORTH: Well at least everyone is awake

HIGHBLOOD: =Keeps braiding and looks around=

DAVENFORTH: -Sees Lifera though. Walks over and uncaptchas an extra coat, offering it to her.-

QIRIN: =immediately begins to peel people off the ground if they are still getting themselves acquainted to it.=

QIRIN: Is everyone all right?

DEREK: -once his ass is up, he's gonna tend to hoisting riley and also draping a coat on her gdi davenforth why we gotta be in synch here.-

LIFERA: Th-Thanks. -nestles in the coat, clearly uncomfortable in this climate-

RILEY: -her ass is PLANTED IN THE SNOW but before she knows it, derek's got her and already getting her a coat- what the actual fuck?!

DAVENFORTH: No problem

DAVENFORTH: Everyone else good so far

PENNY: IM GREAT THANKS FOR ASKING.

MAYOR: -tentatively eats a handful of snow-

ROXANNE: -Shes getting up and dusting herself off before rapidly checking her sylladex. This has happened too many times. Roxanne lets out a sigh of relief when she finds it all there.- Yeah. Good so far.

ROXANNE: 'Cept for the whole whatever that was.

RILEY: -penny's here too? and ROXANNE? WOW. she laughs because this is so gODDAMMN CRAZY BEFORE clearing her throat- is there like...another coat jacket blanket sweater whatever?

HIGHBLOOD: =Suddenly wearing this because coldblooded

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/36/65/27/366527e371625a8d07bba99b13685dbf.jpg

QIRIN: ....

HIGHBLOOD: =picks at fangs=

QIRIN: By chance, do you have more in there?

HIGHBLOOD: most assuredly my alabaster sismiss

ROXANNE: -........Eyyy clown buddy has got the threads. She would appreciate it if she wasnt now realizing that ONCE AGAIN shes been separated from every aspect of her small family in likely a life or death situation.-

PENNY: oh shit I want one.

ROXANNE: -8)-

DAVENFORTH: Ive also got regular coats if you dont wanna look like a pride yeti

LIFERA: ... -Soft glubs. She glances around, sniffing in reservation.-

DAVENFORTH: Wait shit that sounds dope

HIGHBLOOD: =DUMPS tacky rainbow threads on all who needs em= color does yon motherfuck good HIGHBLOOD: best be lookin the best whilst you can broseph :o)

QIRIN: ^_^ Thank you, truly. =She picks one up and tries it on, pushing the neck fluff up to her cheeks. Team Pride Yetis are a go=

RILEY: thanks buddy. -he is her buddy, really- warmest one you got give to my sister. -nods her head in that direction.-

DEREK: -looks pennyward- Oh damn. Thats her?

HIGHBLOOD: y'alls all motherfuckin tiny as a bit they all warm when you layers on layers on layers em sis :oP

RILEY: uh huh. -she nods- imagine me like. 15 years younger. not pregnant. i'll kind of look like her, then.

DAVENFORTH: I always look my best -You Motherfuck...-

HIGHBLOOD: best could get bester =clown smiles in his obsenely bright and colorful winterwear= best get on out the cold

DAVENFORTH: None of us can fly huh

DAVENFORTH: Best vantage point is upward

RILEY: do we look like any of us can fly?

RILEY: let me get my extended wings and jet pack and just bust up into the sky.

HIGHBLOOD: i could juggle y'all that counts enough

QIRIN: What of these trees? I am sure we could scale them.

QIRIN: =maybe=

ROXANNE: -Excuse her and the clicking noise as she's setting up her rifle gun. Shes not screwing around.- We could try it but i dunno' whoever does should be good at climbing because falls can kill pretty quick.

HIGHBLOOD: =He might catch them... or he might not=

DAVENFORTH: Ill be right back -Flashsteps up one of the taller trees to see if he can get a decent vantage point-

RILEY: -throws her hands up in frustration at davenforth just GOIN OFF LIKE THAT- okay, bye.

HIGHBLOOD: =digging into an peach cobbler, hot and fresh from who knows where, one hand in the pocket, looking around=

QIRIN: =a little flatly at Davenforth's eagerness to shimmy up a tree= Oh thank goodness we have medical.

DAVENFORTH: -He's just anime jumping up it branch by branch JESUS. It's perfectly safe, right Derek?-

ROXANNE: -Please dont fall though.-

HIGHBLOOD: =But if you do, do a flip=

ROXANNE: -No.-

HIGHBLOOD: =Two flips=

[At the top of the trees, Davenforth will see MORE TREES... but in the far distance, there are lights coming from a tented area the size of a small village. Maybe it's a... circus?]

DAVENFORTH: -Sighs- At least it aint texas

ROXANNE: -Finishes prepping her gun and slings it over her shoulder, while she watches Davenforth from the ground.-

LIFERA: -She's starting to pace to keep warm. Heck.-

DAVENFORTH: -Checks his comm. Oh shit. Virginia huh? He starts making his way down the tree landing on his feet with the softest thud-

ROXANNE: -Nice dismount. Stuck the landing.-

ROXANNE: See anythin' up there?

PENNY: -draping herself in what's practically a rainbow tent. Ahh yes.- alright whatevers going on Im not standing here fuck deep in snow.

DAVENFORTH: Hope you guys like camping cuz were gonna be playing the wild thornberries for a while

DAVENFORTH: Good news is theres what can be considered civilization miles ahead

QIRIN: Good idea. Are berries in season?

RILEY: great. -sighs, hugging the coat tighter against her-

DAVENFORTH: Bad news is it looks like the ringaling brothers are here

ROXANNE: -Raises a brow.- What?

QIRIN: =shrugs at roxanne=

HIGHBLOOD: =LEANS= them motherfuckers?? =furrows brows=

DAVENFORTH: Grape ape over there is gonna feel real at home soon im guessin

HIGHBLOOD: mine home is where i roam bromie

PENNY: -she's already trudging through the snow. BYE YALL-

HIGHBLOOD: =Goodbye forever lil sis=

DAVENFORTH: That lovely lady has the right idea she might wanna walk to the left a bit though

ROXANNE: ! -Spots a fleeing penny.- Uh hey.

ROXANNE: Maybe you shouldn't go off on your own like that? -Whoever she is, she didnt get the name, only that shes related to riley.-

RILEY: -sighs- hey! where the fuck are you going?

HIGHBLOOD: =He shrugs and starts to roam, tapping on his com and slorping some faygo. The lorge walks through the snow surprisingly quiet=

PENNY: -turns left a little. THANKS GUY.-

PENNY: Im freezing my ass off and I dont know none of yall.

HIGHBLOOD: word on the block's you got fam littlest bit

HIGHBLOOD: that's the block, stalkin ya

RILEY: so your plan is to get lost?

DAVENFORTH: Introducing yourself is the quickest way to still not know someone but at least know their name

PENNY: hi Im Penny.

QIRIN: I am Weramiru Qirin, former queen of Prospit, abdicated in 2619, best decision of my life. I am now one of the Unbreakable Union's doctors. =Holds out her hand like Disney Jane and Tarzan introducing themselves.=

HIGHBLOOD: =Pft, royals=

DAVENFORTH: -What a nerd. He loves her-

ROXANNE: Hey, Penny. I'm not as fancy as Qirin, but ya'can call me Roxanne. -How friendly does she looked all stressed out and with a loaded weapon slung over her shoulder.-

QIRIN: You do not have to be fancy when you are already a brilliant scientist, Roxanne.

PENNY: -side eyes Qirin... high fives her.-

QIRIN: ^_^ =highfives=

ROXANNE: .......Aw heck. -Thats adorable.- Thanks Qirin.

RILEY: enough introductions to get us all going the same direction? perfect. let's go.

PENNY: sorry but no.

MAYOR: -he points to his sash-

PENNY: Im gonna go this way and you can go whatever other way.

MAYOR: -u were missing one. now u know-

HIGHBLOOD: aight =keeps walking= can't make no motherfucker amble on where they don't wanna get their legs =walks behind a tree and disappears=

HIGHBLOOD: =Sliding casually down the other side of the hill, slorping faygo=

PENNY: ....wtf.

DAVENFORTH: Thank god the mayor is okay

QIRIN: ......................

RILEY: -glances at this adorable carapacian and has no idea why he's pointing at his sash but he's so adorable she has to force herself to focus on the situation at hand- well, i'm going where you go. so...you can either go with everybody else or be stuck with just me.

QIRIN: =watches GHB disappear with her own two eyeballs. She should be accustomed to strange occurrences by now, but the fact of the matter is that she is NOT.=

DAVENFORTH: -Catches up to Penny-

PENNY: are you seriously going to do this right now?

DAVENFORTH: Youre an independent woman i like and respect that but right now at this particular juncture of what the absolute fuck is going on we should probably stick together until were not just in a forest with snow also sup penny pleasure to meet you names davenforth

PENNY: look.

PENNY: I just dont want to deal with her.

RILEY: oh jesus christ.

ROXANNE: -Just chilling with Qirin. She aint going near that whole family debacle happening.-

HIGHBLOOD(?): =From somewhere........ a pie appears in Riley's hand=

RILEY: ...

DAVENFORTH: Who riley come on she aint that bad bark is definitely worse than the bite

MAYOR: -ponders, pulling out his YARDSTICK SPEAR. he begins drawing something in the snow...-

RILEY: -sufficiently distracted by there being a pie in her hands all of a sudden. is anybody else seeing this?-

HIGHBLOOD(?): =With a cherry=

PENNY: Im pretty sure I know what shes capable of thanks.

ROXANNE: -Yikes and she thought her and Ruth were bad.-

DAVENFORTH: Im not gonna doubt that but we should still stick together

DAVENFORTH: Just because shes here dont mean you gotta talk to her though

RILEY: -holding this pie with a cherry on top.- oh god i'm having one of those weird dreams again aren't i?

ROXANNE: -Nope, you arent Riley.-

DEREK: -pinches riley's arm-

MAYOR: -he's DONE WITH HIS DRAWING. he turns and scampers up to penny and pokes her in the side with his spear thingy.-

HIGHBLOOD(?): =DO IT.... is she not gonna do it.... it's a great pie...... says the universe=

DAVENFORTH: Maybe the mayor can help better

RILEY: -slaps derek's arm as an automatic reflex- oh. nope. -WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS PIE. do you want me to stick it in someone's FACE?-

DAVENFORTH: Thanks mayor

PENNY: cool cuz dont expect that to work.

QIRIN: =hangin back here with Roxanne. For the same reasons. Dave's got this handled.=

DAVENFORTH: -He does not, in fact, have this handled.-

HIGHBLOOD(?): =What else are pies for... it's a sleepytime pie. Maybe. PRobably=

ROXANNE: -Nah, you got it handled.-

PENNY: -looks down at Mayor.- ??

ROXANNE: -Produces a scarf and silently offers it to Qirin. Shes got a lot, but they wont match the coats..-

RILEY: -inspects the pie further. a sleepytime pie? do you want me to put my sister to SLEEP-

MAYOR: -POINTS AT HIS FINISHED PIECE. it appears to be a large checkerboard carefully drawn in the snow, complete with the pieces!!!! there are white ones and black ones. The black ones are represented by his footprints, while the white ones are basically just circles. They appear to be in a position of CHECK, judging by the fact that the king is surrounded, and the rook and queen are on other sides of the biard, and the black pieces have like THREE WHOLE QUEENS, but nevetherless, it is not yet checkmate. He points to the king and then draws a line to an empty space.-

HIGHBLOOD(?): :o)

MAYOR: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

QIRIN: ^o^ =pleasantly surprised= Oh thank you, Roxanne. How kind of you.

ROXANNE: No problem, Q.

QIRIN: =gazes intently at this drawing=

RILEY: -only if...she wants to go off on her own again...-

PENNY: -stares intently down at this chess board... and looks back at the Mayor.- sorry bud but I got no fuckin clue what youre trying to tell me.

MAYOR: -THROWS HIS ARMS UP-

MAYOR: -ENDOMORPHS ARE HOPELESS-

PENNY: heh.

PENNY: youre pretty cute tho.

MAYOR: -points to his sash again-

PENNY: ...mayo....R.

MAYOR: -jitters-

PENNY: ohhhh. Mayor??

MAYOR: -JITTERS!!!!-

RILEY: -come on little dude. you can get her to stay-

PENNY: I got no idea what mayoring has to do with games but its cool I guess.

MAYOR: -jitters his way back over to the snowboard and begins doing some changes, plopping some snow on top of the kind and drawing in a NEW piece, in a relatively safe spot and NOT in check, before drawing some arrows from the other rook and queen.- He points excitedly at it.-

PENNY: .... were winning chess?

MAYOR: -shakes his head. THUMBS DOWN. definitely losing.-

PENNY: look I wasnt that much of a nerd in high school. I can kick ass at Connect Four though.

PENNY: okay. we suck at chess. thats accurate.

DAVENFORTH: -Hear him in your HEART penny-

MAYOR: -hmm, hmm. He points to her, and then he points to the king. And then he draws a little picture of one of the bishops putting the king in check on top of the king's head.-

MAYOR: -THEN he points at the rook and the queen, pointing at Davenforth and Derek.-

PENNY: ...

ROXANNE: -So Derek or Davenforth are the queen and the other is a rook.-

MAYOR: -he doesn't know what piece u are. HE DOESN'T KNOW YOU LADY-

PENNY: alright. sunglass guys are badasses.

DEREK: -thumbs up-

PENNY: -SIGHS-

RILEY: -elbows him-

MAYOR: ...

MAYOR: -OK SO NOW HE JUST JUMPS ALL OVER THE SNOW, drawing a bunch of pieces around the king. And then a CIRCLE around them.-

PENNY: yeah yeah okay I get it.

PENNY: if I run off Im boned.

PENNY: is that what youre trying to tell me?

MAYOR: -NODS-

MAYOR: -you've only got one move in check-

PENNY: well Ive basically been boned my whole life so thats really nothing new.

PENNY: I like you though.

MAYOR: -jitters a shaky thumbs up-

DEREK: -ELBOW'D OOF.- So were stickin together this time gang?

PENNY: here cmere you look cold as balls. -shuffles over to wrap mayor up in her rainbow funtime coat-

MAYOR: -! -THAT IS KIND. he is hard, like the kind of resin that'd go around a chess piece. UNSURPRISINGLY-

PENNY: -he is a friend...- yeah I guess.

RILEY: -relief-

DAVENFORTH: Told you the mayor is the best

DAVENFORTH: Thanks mayor

DEREK: Groovy.

RILEY: i don't think i ever want you to say that again. -at Derek.-

DEREK: What? It is groovy.

ROXANNE: -Clears throat- Not ta' break this fun time up but.

DEREK: -smirks, then slips an arm around here- So we movin or did I just agree to freezin to death with yall?

ROXANNE: We good to move-

ROXANNE: Yeah what Derek just said.

DEREK: Great minds.

RILEY: -leans into him and sighs- let's go.

DEREK: -PROCEEDS-

ROXANNE: -LIKEWISE. Shes ready to march.-

MAYOR: -scampers along inside a coat-

DAVENFORTH: -Goes to check on Lifera again- You need another coat

RILEY: -might be slowing derek a little down by how she's trying to guarantee penny is going with them-

LIFERA: I need. Probubbly. Ten coats.

PENNY: -shuffles with the mayo. she's very tempted to scoop him up like a kid....-

ROXANNE: -Does the fish queen want scarves? She has scarves.-

LIFERA: -YES-

MAYOR: -HE IS AN ELECTED OFFICIAL-

ROXANNE: -Slows her walk enough so that she can distribute them to anyone who wants them.- Life time a knitting finally came in handy. Thank you highschool arts an'crafts.

QIRIN: =Takes a couple small cloth packs out of her sylladex, shakes them up, and hands them over to Lifera.=

QIRIN: Please, take them. They are hand warmers.

ROXANNE: -YOU get a scarf and YOU get a scarf. They are long and thick, and come in a bunch of different colors (Although mostly shades of purple)-

DAVENFORTH: -Uncaptchas his red trench coat and drapes it over Lifera. It's his favorite coat ever. Don't let anything happen to it.-

[Eventually they make it to the clowny congregation. Upon closer inspection, it's almost like... a clown shanty town, if such a thing exists. It's grungy. A chicken is running through the middle of the town. There are people wandering around -- humans in face paint. From one of the tents (maybe) this tune is playing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqEwX9Orp7M

]

HIGHBLOOD: =He's been here the whole time. Staring...... watching......... in disbelief=

ROXANNE: -........Wow. This sure is something.-

LIFERA: -piles all these articles on her body in the walk- Glub... T)(ANK you.

LIFERA: ... -stares at all this-

QIRIN: ^ ^

DEREK: Oh for fucks sake.

DAVENFORTH: No

PENNY: .......

DEREK: Come on guys we leavin.

PENNY: -starts turning her and mayor around in a slow circle-

DEREK: -TURNS HIMSELF AND RILEY AROUND-

DAVENFORTH: Lets go the other way

PENNY: throw that ass in a circle the fuck out.

LIFERA: WAD-----E.

QIRIN: I am inclined to agree.

HIGHBLOOD: =Suddenly....... spiky club=

LIFERA: LOOK. They seem mostly... )(UMAN?

LIFERA: Maybe.

QIRIN: !

DAVENFORTH: Even worse

RILEY: where the hell are we?

LIFERA: It's probubbly some sort of... new jurisdiction.

ROXANNE: -Seconds that !-

ROXANNE: -Although shes also carrying a gun, she has no room to talk on the weapons front, but seeing a spike wielding giant is a little more intimidating.-

RILEY: oh. hey. big guy. whatcha doing?

LIFERA: -side eyes GHB-

MAYOR: -HIDES HIS EYES-

PENNY: -also hides his eyes. you are safe now.-

HIGHBLOOD: =drapes his rainbow robes over a fence and ominously drags the club right into town= cleanin a stain upon mine religion

QIRIN: ...

TAKODA: -OH YEAH HE'S HERE-

TAKODA: UMMM.

DAVENFORTH: Woah there

TAKODA: TH1S SEEMS L1KE A MOMENT, WHERE 1 M1GHT WANT TO TRY SOME... D1PLOMACY...

ROXANNE: Hhh. Might wanna' try it fast then.

RILEY: -makes a horrified face- wait, what?

ROXANNE: -But no, big clown wont really go smash all these tents up right? RIGHT??-

HIGHBLOOD: =EYEBALLS..... his bro gaizka gets the boink on with this brown he knows......... Hm...... flexes his jaw and holds up a big palm= two minutes. =uncharacteristically sensible...ish=

TAKODA: -smiles, clasping hands together- GREAT! AH...

TAKODA: LET'S ASK THEM 1F THEY MAYBE... HAVE SOME MODE OF TRANSPORTAT1ON, WE CAN BORROW, OR UH... PURCHASE, 1F NEED BE?

HIGHBLOOD: take.

LIFERA: GLUB.

HIGHBLOOD: i ain't buyin shit from no motherfuckin blasphemors

LIFERA: Let us do something NOW, then, shell we????

RILEY: (is being a juggalo a real religion now?) -very quietly so as not to offend the big guy-

DEREK: (Yeah its a weird troll thing.)

RILEY: (oh my god.)

DAVENFORTH: Thought youd proud to see some like minded thinkers whats wrong big guy

HIGHBLOOD: =Looks down to Davenforth, unamused= ain't likeminded

HIGHBLOOD: they got shit twisted, i'm inclined as a motherfuck of strong beliefs to untwist them

TAKODA: -bravely tries to address a lady juggalo- JUGGALETTE: -turns around and she's topless-

TAKODA: OH. YOUR RUMBLE SPHERES. ARE OUT 1N THE OPEN, 1 SEE.

TAKODA: ... 1SN'T 1T A L1TTLE COLD? -proceeds to try to convince her to put a coat on-

HIGHBLOOD: =That's right..... eat up your time=

LIFERA: -just starts aggressively walking through this village of weird human anger clowns-

DAVENFORTH: -Baybe?-

DAVENFORTH: Looks all the same to me bunch of face paint drowning their lives out in sugar and drugs

RILEY: can't we just steal from them? that would be more fun than killing them.

[Lifera passes by two juggalos taking turns hitting each other in the face with a street sign. You know, just for fun.]

DAVENFORTH: A lot less reserved though

DAVENFORTH: Definitely not as dangerous

RILEY: find me a car and i'll hotwire us out of here.

LIFERA: ...-wtf-...

HIGHBLOOD: it ain't the same and diplomacy's gotta clock

HIGHBLOOD: don't know what motherfuckin mockery of bullshit this is but i'm fit to stamp it out, you ain't eager to cease my stampins for all the ignorance you spit sos i jive with that at least

LIFERA: -She's looking for any sort of shelter or transport they can use before things get ugly, plus she's freezing.-

QIRIN: =...= ...

QIRIN: .............

[She eventually comes upon a big party bus. It's all graffiti'd up with weird little symbols of a dude with a hatchet, also covered in what's probably mud and blood...]

DAVENFORTH: If youre gonna stomp out some mostly harmless folks then ill definitely stop that they aint hurtin nobody but themselves

RILEY: (is this really a conversation we're having right now.)

DAVENFORTH: Dont sweat em they aint the issue

LIFERA: -LOUD GLUBBING.- OV-ER )(-ER--------E!

HIGHBLOOD: =He sighs, looking around again at all these humans shitting on his religion, hand flexes on the club= can't stop inevitable broseph

HIGHBLOOD: but the snake cranium is much preferred =Looks Lifera-ward and starts to drag his club through town again=

DAVENFORTH: -Zips over.-

[The door to the party busy is just... open... A chicken glides out.]

LIFERA: -watches it go...-

LIFERA: .... I'M S)(OR-E IT'S FIN-E.

LIFERA: 38)

QIRIN: ......

DEREK: Ive traveled in worse conditions.

RILEY: jesus.

RILEY: i haven't traveled in anything with blood on it. well...not THAT much.

PENNY: lmao Id be surprised if my car DIDNT have blood on it.

PENNY: speaking of which miss you baby.

PENNY: everybody in before I freeze my titties off.

DAVENFORTH: Cover your tits then damn are the juggalos getting to you already

QIRIN: =what is life=

HIGHBLOOD: =Eyeballs the devil settlement= ....... =He'll be back=

DAVENFORTH: -Yells for Takoda-

PENNY: hey I could get down with some free titties.

RILEY: -gets her ass on this bus and takes a seat. her feet hurt and ryan's being rowdy-

TAKODA: HUH? OH. 1T WAS N1CE MEET1NG YOU PLEASE PUT ON A SH1RT-- -runs back over to his FRIENDS-

HIGHBLOOD: =If only everyone wasn't so proactive...... is salty, is seething. Is texting in the back and surprisingly..... not weighing this van down like mofo?=

PENNY: -he's like a bird.... in colorful feathers...-

HIGHBLOOD: =A goose=

HIGHBLOOD: =HO NK=

DAVENFORTH: Koda i nominate you for bus driver

TAKODA: }:D TAKODA: THAT SOUNDS L1KE FUN. -gets in the driver's seat. the keys are just... in there.-

DAVENFORTH: Dont crash us bro -Takes a seat-

LIFERA: -snuggles up with Davenforth almost immediately. WARM HER.-

DAVENFORTH: -Space Heater protocol: Commence-

TAKODA: -once everyone is in... he tries to back up, only to accidentally crash into a tent- WHOOPS.

TAKODA: 1'VE NEVER DR1VEN A LAND VEH1CLE... W1TH TH1S MUCH CLEARANCE BEFORE. JUST... JUST A SECOND... -forward again, carefully trying to maneuver... backs into another tent.-

TAKODA: SH1T. UHH... -does this several more times before they can pull out of this spot and drive OUT of the settlement-

RILEY: -JERKS FORWARD and grabs onto the seat in front of her- holy shit.

QIRIN: =clears her throat= Are you sure about this?

HIGHBLOOD: =Good yes=

QIRIN: Takoda?

TAKODA: YES, SORRY. WE SHOULD BE GOOD NOW. }:) -sweats... driving down the road from the now partially demolished settlement. the mirthful messiahs were in GHB's favor.-

RILEY: carry on soldier.

QIRIN: =she's gonna stay awake....just in case....=

HIGHBLOOD: =this is why he's a faithful devote believer... he'll fix this. They know he will=

TAKODA: -turns on the radio and icp is playing... on every station- ... UMM. -the quiet is better anyway. he'll keep driving until somebody requests a stop, but there's at least a bathroom on the bus. it might be the worst thing they've ever seen, but it is a bathroom.-

QIRIN: =sideeyes takoda when the radio comes on=

#tenaciousgodliness #transienttutor #robynsaint #pennyLane #temulenceGenetrix #arcadianLuminary #jubilantpacifier #coralcaliph #weatheringQuerist #warwearyvagabond #trunculentcampyman

0 notes

songofages · 7 years

Photo

BBC SHERLOCK,POST-REICHENBACH FIC, SEQUEL TO NEVER TO SEE THE STARS AGAIN AND AND THE STARS SHONE BRIGHTLY.

Characters: Everyone. Cept..maybe Harry. Ok maybe her.

Rating: PG or M I guess so far.

Summary: Following his recovery in Britian and overseas, Sherlock returns to London to resume his life. As he struggles to return his old world he finds himself facing new adversaries, new mysteries and new adventures. Follows Series 3. Sequal to And The Stars Shone Brightly.

Chapter 6: I Hate Mornings

Wow... it's been awhile. But here we are. I don't want to drop this just yet, so don't worry. As always your support is wonderful. And yes, a beta would still be lovely. But I don't know how often I can update this what with Uni and a lack of ideas. And the special comes out this year and it's frankly amazing, from what I've seen. If you haven't seen the trailer, go see it now. If you have, carry on and read.

Enjoy!

Morning came swiftly, much to his annoyance. Someone had opened the curtains, allowing the sunlight to spill out into every inch of his bedroom. He curled onto his side, pulling a sheet over his head. The sun was up, therefore it was too early. Sherlock groaned, wishing he could bury his face into his pillow and fall back into a semi-peaceful slumber. His wish wasn't granted, someone had decided to pull back his sheets and duvet, causing the ex-detective to curl into a tighter ball and push his head under his pillow.

"Not now, dear brother. It's time to wake up. A bright and beautiful day awaits you."

"Tell it to piss off." Was the muffled response.

"Another time perhaps. Please don't make me drag you out of bed. We both know what happened the last time." A tousled head glared up at his tormentor.

"You gave me a concussion!" Mycroft raised his hands in mock surrender.

"You wouldn't let go of the bed, it was hardly my fault. Though if you remember I was grounded for a month." Not long enough. Thought Sherlock, he remembered the incident only vaguely.

"Now if you'll kindly get up, Mrs Hudson has made us breakfast."

"Why are you even here?"

"That, we will discuss, after breakfast." Mycroft strode out of the room, but not before throwing his brother's dressing gown at the bed. Sherlock ignored him, and waited precisely twelve minutes before he heard a NOW SHERLOCK, and then flopped out of bed. He pulled on the gown and slowly, grumbled out of the room.

The room was bright and cheerful, a bustling Mrs Hudson was whistling in the kitchen and Mycroft was sitting in one of the arm chairs, legs crossed, and reading a newspaper. Milton was scratching his briefcase. Sherlock's lip twitched, silently approving. He collapsed into the opposite chair and beckoned to the feline, who jumped at the chance to greet his human. He rubbed every inch of his face onto Sherlock's and the curled up near his neck.

"So lovely to see you again, Sherlock dear. This place hasn't been the same without you." Mrs Hudson had laid a lace table cloth over the desk. She tutted when she turned to look at him and shook her head. Whatever she saw, she clearly disapproved of it. "You like a right mess, and I thought you had been on holiday."

"'m just tired, Mrs Hudson." Not willing to admit he was actually pleased to see her again.

"A nice warm shower will make you feel all the better. Now up you pop, breakfast is ready." She didn't even mutter 'but I'm not your housekeeper' anymore. She wasn't, but her mother hen instincts refused to quit when it came to Sherlock Holmes.

Mycroft folded his paper and moved to the desk with a quickness, Sherlock didn't think he had in him. It was the perfect time for a weight joke, but he didn't have it in him. Gently removing Milton and placing him on the floor, Sherlock stood, cricking his back and then his neck, before joining his brother. The breakfast was a bit of a smorgasboard. Toast with various spreads, bacon and eggs and sausages. A steaming mug of strong coffee waited in front of him. Mycroft was already filling his plate. Mrs Hudson had also pulled up a chair to join them. Why they didn't just use the table was anybodys guess.

"Isn't this nice, then? Tuck in, Sherlock. You're skin and bones." He couldn't disagree with that. But it was too early for food, even if it did smell nice. However Mrs Hudson and Mycroft both decided to dump bacon and eggs onto his plate. Perhaps one bite wouldn't hurt...

"So, shall we discuss things?" Mycroft hadn't even waited from them to finish, clearly he considered this important. Or maybe he was just extra impatient.

"I just started eating."

"Yes, and how wonderful that is. But while you're here, let's have a nice chat." Mrs Hudson fluttered about removing empty plates and left them some privacy. Sherlock would much rather she had stayed. At least she gave him an excuse to get out of talking to Mycroft.

"Can't it wait."

"I'm afraid not. Now, you're back home in London, have you considered when you will alert the world to your prescence?"

"No." It's too early for this.

"Well I have. I think it should be done slowly at first. Start with a press release." How is that starting slowly?

"Naturally Lestrade is eager to be involved. You will be oblidged to make a few public appearences but I think we can forgoe any interviews." Thank god. He stuffed another piece of bacon into his mouth. He wished he could stuff Mycrofts shut.

"Lestrade has offered to give you some cold cases for you to go over, give the police some insights. He would love to have you as a consultant again, but we both know it might take some time. Even with your name cleared, there are still some conflicts within scotland yard. We'll let things take their course, first."

"Hang on a minute. Who said I was even going to consult with the police again? Or at all?" This assuming air of Mycrofts was beginning to smell.

"I thought you'd be eager to return and forgoe this monotony..."

"Because that worked so well for me last time." Mycroft's brow furrowed, he'd been worried about this.

"It's where you belong, She-"

"I think I can decide that for myself, brother dear." He put down his cutlery and wiped his mouth before swanning out of the room.

Mycroft rested his elbows against the desk and lowered his head into his hands. This was going to be harder than he'd thought. Of course Sherlock would be worried, his whole life had been turned upside down and inside out because of his consulting business. But his brother was born for detective work. He had the mind for it, but anyone could have that, he had the passion and drive to solve the mystery and even if he never admitted it, catching the bad guy and saving the innocent. He'd have taken on cases from worse people if he hadn't have cared. His mind would become stagnant if he stayed too long a moody, brooding hermit.

No, he had to break him out of this and bring back that passion. He'd helped it grow once, how hard could it be again?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

#stars series #among the iridescent stars #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #sherlock #bbc sherlock #fanfiction #fanfic

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Dream Boy Lover

June 12, 1985

The dead heat of Hawkins summer is almost in full swing, but in the damp cement back room at Hawkins Community Pool, it’s freezing.

Waiting out the time before her next turn in the chair is Heather Holloway, laying down on the wooden bench, one leg hanging lazily over the side. She’s got a pair of sweats on over her bathing suit and a throw blanket that was supposed to be on the back of her mother’s expensive couch wrapped around her shoulders.

With her on the same bench is Billy Hargrove, laying on his back like her, their heads touching so that curly pieces of their sprayed hair get tangled together. He’s got his ankles crossed one over the other, wearing his lifeguard hoodie and a pair of boots, but the tips of his nose and fingers are still ice cold. Even out of the sun, lounging around on break, he’s got a pair of aviators propped up on his nose.

They don’t have to be back out in their chairs for another hour or two, something about the manager's nieces coming in and taking over everyone’s shifts, so they’re just killing time.

Heather’s got a gossip magazine that’s a bit too immature for her, the kind aimed at middle schoolers rather than a couple of fresh out of high school adults, and she’s reading out loud anything she finds interesting. Billy’s got a bag of skittles he got from the vending machine on his chest, and occasionally, when he doesn’t have a cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips, he drops a few into his own or Heather's mouths. She’d suggested the skittles, he likes M&Ms better.

After a few minutes of silent page turning, Billy feels himself start drifting off to sleep, it’s too cold and he didn’t sleep last night and he’s bored, but Heather startles him awake with an exclamation of, “Oh! Listen to this.”

She clears her throat and reads in a smug, over enthusiastic voice. “How to tell if your crush likes you back.”

Billy groans, he knows the teasing that’s about to come will be insufferable. Ever since Heather got herself a relationship, she’d been trying to get him to follow suit, and she’d weaseled it out of him with hardly any effort that he’d already been gunning it for someone.

Pretty much every day he had to get at least one reminder that he was a coward and a wimp for not making a move, her obsession with his romantic life just that intense, but he’s usually a good sport about it. Like now, as he listens to her read out of a magazine too lame for even his little sister, not interrupting her once as she reads off the list.

Well, at least until she strays from what is actually printed on its glossy pages. “Number one. Does he or she talk to you everyday?” She waited for barely a second before reprimanding him. “Come on William, I’m expecting answers here.”

Sighing through his nose, he plays along. “Whatever. Sure.”

“Okay. Number two. Does he or she tell you all of his or her deepest secrets?”

“Deepest? Dunno about that.” That answer isn’t good enough for Heather, who waits impatiently for him to give her a better one. “Alright, fine. Yes.”

The smile on her face is almost audible through the excitement in her voice. “Number three. Did he or she give you his or her phone number like, the third time you ever talked to each other?”

“That’s not in the magazine, Hetty.”

“Um, it totally is.” She says it like she means it, but there’s a little hint of humor in her tone almost giving her away.

Because she’s so relentless, Billy admits, “It was the fifth time.”

“Number four.” The pause between her words as she thinks of something to taunt Billy with is enough that he knows something ridiculous is about to come out of her mouth. “Does he take you out to the quarry, a place we all know is the cooler older brother of Lover’s Lake, in the middle of the night ‘just to hang out’?”

“That’s it, I’m cutting you off.” He announces, reaching behind his head and snatching the magazine from her hands, flipping it around so he can read it. “My turn.”

“Oh no.” She says with a giggle.

There’s the sound of laminated pages flipping until, Billy says, “Ooh, this one sounds good.” in a tone matching the one Heather used when she started reading.

“How to know if your relationship is going to last.” He gasps for dramatic effect, and Heather can’t stifle a giggle while she waits for the rest of the question, “Do you call each other a thousand times a day and whisper sweet nothings over the phone?”

Even though he can’t see her face, she rolls her eyes. “Duh.”

“Did you pine helplessly after each other for literally three years just to kiss on the first date?”

“Yeah and it was awesome.” They both laugh at that one, her obviously overdone response enough to break the false seriousness they had going.

It’s also a challenge for Billy to do it again.

“Do you stay over at her house every night just so you can wake up together in domestic bliss? Does she pack your work bag for you every morning like you’ve been married for years, and make you your lunch in a little brown bag and kiss you on the forehead on your way out the door and-“

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Billy’s point having been proved, she takes her magazine back and sets It aside with the rest of her stuff. “You’re just jealous because you won’t shoot your shot with Steve.”

“Am not.” He scoffs, trying not to let the little bit of offense he felt at that show. “Have the situation perfectly under control.”

“Sure. Is that why you spend all of your time sighing wistfully and daydreaming about your one true love?” Her hands are clasped together at her cheek and she lets her voice get higher and dreamier.

“My options are limited.” It’s a lame excuse just to deflect the truth and they both know it.

So she calls him on it, and uncontainable smile accompanying the song-Singh remark. “You didn’t deny it!”

“What?”

“That you’re in love with him!”

“Thought that was obvious. Why the hell else do you think I’m still single?” He motions vaguely to himself. “Just look at me, Hetty. Could have anyone I wanted.”

“Except Steve.” The reminder is mostly meant to be like, a way for her to show him that he should just make his move already because he can have anyone he wants, but, having missed the point entirely, Billy sighs and agrees. “‘Cept Steve.”

“I don’t know though, Rob’s been putting out some feelers, and like, her gaydar is super good.” Her and Robin are probably more involved in this than their idiot best friends by this point, it seemed to be all they ever talked about anymore. “She’ll be able to tell you if he’s on the market.”

“I don’t need a lesbians dating advice, thank you.” Billy chuffs. “Pretty sure I can figure it out on my own.”

“Oh.” In a show of feigned nonchalance, she holds her hands above her face so she can examine her painted nails as she says, “So I guess you already knew that his freshman year, Steve dated Tommy Hagan for an entire month.”

The rest of their skittles were sent scattering all over the stained up concrete floor as Billy sat up quickly, his boots swinging to the floor and blood rushing to his head fast enough to knock him silly. “What?”

“See. You had no idea.” Sitting herself up much more gracefully, Heather turns so she’s facing Billy with her legs crossed. “For months you’ve been moping over your straight dream boy, and he’s been bi the whole time.”

“No way.” Stupidly baffled is the only way to describe the look on Billy’s face.

“Yes way.” She nods smugly. “He said so himself.”

This was something she thought was completely obvious at this point, so she can’t help but say, “Seriously, William, when were you going to open your eyes? Someone who doesn’t like you isn’t going to let you crash at their place and tenderly bandage your wounds.”

“S’not tender.” It’s such a confident comeback, Heather could almost believe it.

Almost, but she’d heard all the stories about how Billy’s dad would rough him up, kick him out with a nasty split in his lip or bruises all over, and he’d drive all helpless to his savior Steve Harrington’s house to get patched up. Not tender her hind end.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, because I also seem to remember him driving an hour into the city to pick you up when your car broke down, sooo…..” Billy wouldn’t win this one, she had just about a million other courting attempts from poor Steve on stand by.

“It wasn’t like that, H.” His gaze fixes to the floor, to a green skittle melting over in the corner, as he mumbles, “We’re not even friends.”

“What about when he saved you a seat on the basketball bus?” The nerve of him to come running back to her with all of his romantic troubles and woes, and still deflect like this. She almost couldn’t bear it. “Or literally like, a week ago when he hand delivered a bunch of super thoughtful birthday gifts to you?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” His hands are thrown up in exasperation, though Heather would argue he doesn’t have the right be upset when he’s the one doing all this to himself. “He’s just too nice for his own good.”

“Please lord give me the strength to deal with this boy.” She turns her eyes to the wooden ceiling, joining her hands together in a false prayer. Sighing through her nose, she turns her attention back to Billy, who’s trying to hide his smugness with how frustrated he’s making her. “William. I know you think you screwed that friendship over forever, but I promise you, if Steve didn’t forgive you, he wouldn’t let you in his house, let alone do all this other stuff for you.”

“Dunno Het, kind of hard to forgive someone who doesn’t apologize.” She could ring his neck for how casually he says it.

“What! You mean you didn’t say you were sorry yet?” Rolling up the discarded magazine, she smacks him on the back of the head with it. “William that was like, seven months ago!”

The strain in his voice tells her they’re on the same level of annoyance. “What am I supposed to do! Tell him I’m sorry I almost killed him with my bare hands, and he’ll just forget about me being an evil bastard so we can live happily ever after like you and Robin?”

She hits him again. “One, you are over exaggerating by a long shot buster, and two, you need to quit projecting your crap onto that boy before someone else comes along and swoops him up.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re an idiot William Hargrove.” Another whack with the magazine as she tries to explain the situation, something that makes perfect sense to someone who isn’t emotionally constipated, to Billy who is, well, extremely emotionally constipated. “Steve is trying to move on. He flirts with you like, every day and he was willing to be civil without an apology. That doesn’t mean you ‘aren’t even friends’”

“It means that you,” Her cherry red fingernail presses into the material of his hoodie, “you are the one that needs to forgive yourself.”

“You think so?” There’s a sort of disbelief in his voice, but it’s not like he’s doubting himself so much as he’s mocking Heather for thinking it’s so easy.

And that, well, she’s used to it. They’ve been friends since early December, so she didn’t let him being a big jerk put her off after so long dealing with him acting like this. “Yes I do, as a matter of fact.”

“Think you’re giving me too much credit then, sweetheart.”

“You are so difficult.” She felt like a tired mother scolding a child. “Now you listen up and you listen tight. I don’t want this self-deprecating garbage keeping you from what you deserve, you hear me? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I’m telling you, you have got to take it.”

“Steve does not care one little bit what you think of yourself. He likes the real you. Not who you think you should be, not who you think he deserves. He wants you.” Maybe she’s being dramatic, who knows, but Billy keeping his mouth shut means she’s probably on the right track. “And I guarantee you, you will never forgive yourself if you let that boy go.”

Sure, she’s up on her high horse there, talking down to Billy like he’s completely incompetent, but she’s been in the same boat. From experience she knew Billy’s heart would never recover if he lost Steve to someone else. It was in part for her sake so she wouldn’t have to hear about it, but mostly for her best friend, who already had so much other stuff on his plate to deal with that she wanted to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Don’t be so dramatic Het.” Is what he comes up with, but he’s biting the corner of his nail, something he only does when he’s thinking hard about something. It doesn’t take very long for him to break. “Promise you’re not just hyping me up?”

“You know me better than that. I don’t have a dishonest bone in my body.” With her hand on her heart she promises, “I wouldn’t say any of that stuff if I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waves her off, but he looks sort of queasy, won’t hold eye contact with her for more than a second. “I’ll think about it.”

“You better.” Leaning over across the bench Heather wraps him in the best hug she can in the awkward position. “You know you’re my best friend in the whole wide world, right?” He lets out a breathy laugh against her hair, “I know, I know.”

It’s for Billy’s sake that she lets him drop it. Were it up to her entirely, she’d want him to make his decision now, she’s tired of watching him be too scared to make decisions for himself, but really, they’ve been at it for half a year, what’s a few more days to get the ball rolling?

So she listens with her full attention, keeping her arm around his waist to never fully break off the hug, as he shifts the conversation to more casual topics, like his failed attempts at trying to teach his little sister how to drive, how his new tattoo is taking way too long to heal, and how he’s triple booked for swim lessons tomorrow morning.

When after so long Adams' voice cuts over the speakers calling for the next ten minute pool check, their break is officially over.

The manager pops his head in to tell them they need one of them to switch out, and Billy, after sitting in one place for so long, stands up and stretches his limbs before he offers himself up, “You stay here in the cool, princess. I’ll keep watch over your loyal subjects.”

It’s obvious he just wants some time to himself, so, where she normally would’ve come back with something silly about how the pool goers respected his abs more than his authority, she instead gives him something to think about during his solitude.

She waits until he’s kicking his boots off and shoving them under the bench to say, “You know, maybe it’s fate that the both of you, absolute hunks that you are, have stayed single this whole summer. You’re probably like, destined to be together.”

“Keep dreaming Holloway.” He says, snatching up his whistle and his smokes from the pile with the rest of his stuff.

All smugly nonchalant she replies, “I’m leaving that up to you, lover boy.”

Billy just laughs as the metal door swings shut behind him, but he admittedly goes on to do exactly that, dreaming of his pretty boy up in the lifeguard chair.

Realizing it might be a hazard to public safety to ignore his responsibilities to drool over Steve Harrington while he’s on duty, he blows his whistle at a kid holding another one under the water, and tries to let the noisy pool distract him.

Heather’s right, this is getting to be ridiculous.