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clouds-rambles · 3 years

Note

can you write something where the reader has Childe babysit their little sister Diona? Except she hates him because he's a "fatui bad guy."

Strayed a little off the request but I hope you don't mind lmao

Lol casually 1.2k words look at me go

Pairings; (Sibling) Diona x reader, (Romantic) Childe x reader

Warning(s); Mention of reader going out on a hunt

Keep reading under the cut!

You hum as you see Diona turn up at your door

“Morning Diona, I’ve got to run some errands, do you mind just sitting with Ajax?” you ask getting down onto her level. Diona sighs

“But I came here to see you” she huffs and pouts, you chuckle at her

“Don’t worry about it Diona, I’ll be back before supper and tomorrow we’ll spend the day together” you comfort bringing her into a hug “Don’t worry, Ajax has a ton of siblings so I’m sure he’ll entertain you just fine, okay?” you ask. Despite the fact you desperately needed to run these errands you could probably bribe Childe to do them for you if Diona desperately didn’t want to be without you

“Fine” she huffs hugging you back, you grin at her

“Great! You’re the best” you tell her planting a kiss on her forehead “Come on in, let me introduce the two of you before I leave” Diona nods at your words and lets you pull her up onto your shoulders and enter the house.

“So, what does your bozo boyfriend do anyways?” Diona asks attempting to not sound even a little bit interested

“Why don’t you ask him while I’m gone?” you ask “And he can tell you himself”

“Ah so this must be the sister you were telling me all about” Childe turns, his coffee cup in a hand, he uses his other hand to wave at Diona

“It’s Diona” she tells him with a pout

“Attitude and all” you jest causing Diona to attempt to kick you. You place Diona onto the counter so she stands about as tall as Childe. She leans forwards with a cock of her brow

“I feel like I recognise you…” she trails off, but you interrupt her thoughts by giving her another forehead kiss then giving Childe a kiss too

“Thank you for this Ajax” you thank kissing him again, Childe shakes his head

“It’s no problem love” he smile “Have a good day” he adds waving you out the door.

Just as you leave Diona punches the palm of her hand.

“I’ve got it!” she exclaims “That loser wine tycoon told me all about you guys!” she adds pointing to Childe “You’re one of those harbingers” she accuses, Childe raises his hands in defence

“What do you mean, I’m a toy manufacturer” he tries to argue

“But Ajax isn’t your name…” Diona trails off “It’s Tar-Tartaglia or something” she adds stumbling over the pronunciation of his alias. Childe chuckles awkwardly

“I guess I’m caught huh” he says with a close eyed smile

“Does my sibling know?” Diona asks feeling the coldness of her cyro vision beg to be let out on the harbingers face. Childe smiles and nods

“Of course they do” he replies “That was one of the first things they knew about me” he reassures remembering the memory of their first meeting, your dagger held at his neck. Diona raises a brow

“They better” she threatens and Childe finds himself chuckling again

“Is there anything you’d like to do today?” Childe asks changing the conversation, Diona shakes her head a few times. She’s not really sure what she’d want to do anyway, she barely ever gets time off work and when she does it’s usually just to hunt. “I think my brother, Teucer, left some things from the last time he was here” he offers “Maybe a colouring book or two” Diona nods

“Colouring sounds fun” she says, her guard isn’t fully down around Childe, which he finds a little amusing, but Diona finds herself settling in the more she sees your things littered about the house

“Here do you want some help down?” Childe offers, but Diona shakes her head and jumps down off the counter and bounds into the living room.

Childe looks in the spare room and finds a couple unused colouring books and some pencils. When he renters the living room he finds Diona looking at a picture of a younger you, a baby Diona, and both of her parents. Diona smiles lightly and wipes her eyes of any tears that dare leak from her eyes. She then looks at the next picture depicting a large family unit, she picks out Childe from amidst the people, she smiles lightly. She probably feels a little better knowing that he has a family too.

Childe smiles and announces his presence by placing down the books onto the table. Diona jumps a little bit and scowls at Childe, who only laughs in response.

“Here knock yourself out” he says patting the books, Diona rolls her eyes and sits at the coffee table.

It’s easily dark by the time you get home, you look a little dishevelled. You move to the kitchen and start unpacking the various meats in your bag, you see Childe walk into the room his brows raised at your appearance.

“I thought you told your lackeys to lay off me” you complain looking to your partner “I had to wipe out three fatui camps while I was hunting” you huff

“I did…” he trails off his brows raised “I should send out another notice” he adds sighing, he may be a harbinger but some of these fatui love to do as they please

“How’s Diona?” you ask changing the subject, Childe chuckles lightly

“She’s apprehensive of me” he starts “But she seems sweet, she told me about your dad over lunch” he adds looking to you, you shift on your feet looking away

“I’m glad she felt comfortable enough telling you” you reply taking off your jacket

“Speaking of, we went out for lunch,” he begins “Nothing exiting, she just had some fish and that was about it” he adds following you into the lounge, you see Diona trying to make paper aeroplanes fly with her vision

“How was your day?” you ask your sister, who smiles upon seeing you then puts on an angry face

“And why didn’t you tell me your boyfriend is a fatui?” Diona asks standing up just to stomp her foot

“Sorry” you apologise opening your arms for her to come hug you, she does “I forgot” you add with a laugh

“Why are you so dirty?” Diona asks poking at the layer of dirt on your cheek, you smile at her

“What didn’t Dad tell you about the super secret hunting trick?” you ask with another laugh “You’ve got to roll about in aaaall the mud so the boars cant see you” you add

“That’s not right” she pouts “You shouldn’t listen to Dad less when he’s drunk” she adds with another huff, you chuckle at her

“Anyway, why don’t you help Ajax with the meat? He’s horrific at filleting steaks” you ask changing the subject “And clean myself up” you add with a smile,

“Hey I heard that you know” Childe huffs from the lounge door, Diona nods a few time

“Can I stab him if he cuts the meat wrong?” she asks, you laugh and shake your head

“Maybe just freeze him a little bit, I wouldn’t want blood all over my nice wooden floor” you tell her putting her down. She sighs and goes into the kitchen

“Okay harbinger, lets cut this meat!” you hear Diona exclaim as you go to clean yourself up

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #platonic #romantic #sibling #childe x reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact diona #genshin childe #genshin diona #childe #diona

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wandsandwheezes · 4 years

Text

Wild Child | F.W

Wild Child x Harry Potter AU // 3k words // this is all thanks to @starlightweasley for making it happen and giving me the inspiration + plot to do it!!

this whole fic is dedicated to her because she deserves it sfm!!!

taglist ; @weasleysflowr @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffgirly @whiz-bangs78 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @cappsikle @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @vogueweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke

Two months ago the worst day of your life happened. Two months ago your father dragged you, kicking and screaming, to a portkey- ready to ship you off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Y/N, this is the last straw! I have had it up to here with your pranks.” you screamed back at him, pulling your hand from his grip, “You ship me off to England for what? To replace me like you replaced mom? Real jerk move dad.” The second you laid eyes on the overbearing castle you already knew you hated it.

You were now laid back against your uncomfortable bed, rolling your eyes, “FYI this place sucks, I can’t even breathe properly with how stuffy these uniforms are and don’t even get me started on the lack of fun and opportunities for pranks. It’s H-E-double L here.” Hermione, pulls a chair up next to your poster bed, resting against one of the posts. “You could at least try and have fun, you know. It’s not all that bad when you forget about the lack of sun and abundant rain.” Ginny looks up from her book, swinging her legs so they’re dangled off the windowsill, “If you’re so desperate to leave, you’ll just have to get yourself expelled - simple pranks and mischief isn’t enough to do it, think bigger.” you sigh pushing yourself to sit up, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on your knees.”

A debate ensued as the evening grew, Hermione taking herself away from the conversation and to the common room to avoid any chance of getting roped into expulsion with your antics. “If we’re going big with pranks, there’s nobody better to go to than Fred and George.” Parvati suggests, “Even better you could try snogging one of them, It would send Umbridge mad.” Padma adds, Ginny retches at the idea, turning up her nose with disgust but laughing a little “The thought of anyone snogging any one of my brothers is ghastly, but It’s not a bad Idea, from what I’ve heard they’re not looking to stick around with the pink devil here.” You smile softly, looking up at Ginny as she continues, “Let’s get you your ticket home for Christmas!”

Sure you had played quidditch back home but you were only ever a reserve, so when ginny flew down to you, yelling that you had to take her place, not only was your heart beating out of your chest, but you suddenly questioned any and all experience you had on a quidditch pitch. Maybe you didn’t know how to play, maybe your Ilvermorny friends were lying when they said you had talent. Before you knew it, you were whizzing around the pitch, quaffle in hand, ready to score. Gryffindor were ahead 40 points by the time Harry had caught the golden snitch, meaning that not only had you helped in scoring goals, but you were on the winning team!

“Not bad, Y/L/N, I didn’t know they taught good sports across the pond,” you scoff with a laugh, walking next to the tall, red haired boy as he pushes his sweat soaked hair back and you couldn’t help but think of how attractive he was, he looked down at you, stopping you from waking, wiping a stray bit of mud from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, licking his other finger to move back in to wipe the rest away, causing you to push him away with a laugh, “I don’t want your spit anywhere near me, Weasley” he smiles, “hmm, are you sure about that?” he grabs your wrist, locking eyes for a moment - you swear you could feel the tension surrounding the both of you, so thick that it could be cut with a knife, only being broken away by the sound of a high pitched scream, causing you both to spin to look in the direction of the noise. “I take it Draco found my nice little gift, I always knew he was a proud slytherin.” Fred’s eyes widen, a smirk cracking across his lips. “You didn’t.” you nodded, starting to make your way to the Gryffindor changing rooms, “Oh, I did, just a little harmless charmed shampoo,” you shrug, he follows after you, shaking his head with a small laugh “You’re trouble, you are.”

Seeing Draco walk into the great Hall for dinner that evening was a sight to see, his bright green hair and eyebrows were unmissable, it was truly a look that turned heads, You, Ginny and the rest of the team were filling your boots on the feast before the victory party continued in Gryffindor Tower. “God, if Umbridge doesn’t punish you for that on her lap dog's plea, you’re crazy, Y/N” There were laughs between mouthfuls and cheers, “She’s only learning from the best, isn’t that right?” you shake your head, taking a sip of juice “Freddie, you of all people should know I was trouble before I’d even met you.”

If there was one thing you’d learned, the English love to party and when they party, they party hard. Bottles of firewhisky were cracked open, music blaring from god knows where, there was laughter, shouting, dancing, games and kissing or, as they call it, snogging everywhere you looked. You were high off the win alone, feeling happy for one of the first times in your few months here, you had supportive friends and most of all you had a piece of your home. Your mum was a brilliant Chaser in her time, or so your father had told you. You had lost your mum in the aftermath of the first wizarding war, a death eater seeking her out all the way across the pond and killing her in front of your father. You were only three and although you don’t remember much of her, you do remember the songs she used to sing and just how magical she made your young childhood, much to the dismay of your father. You felt your chest tighten and tears prick the back of your eyes, causing you to run from the wild party.

Fred caught you fleeing the party, even the small glimpse of your sad face breaking his heart a little, never had he seen a girl as beautiful as you cry. He felt compelled to follow you and over some consolation, he was drawn to you like you were tethered by a piece of string, following your every step till he found you crouched in a corner on the floor, staring out across the black lake. He joined you on the cold stone floor, sitting across from you. “It’s not like the wild child to not be out there as the life and soul of the party,” Fred jokes, punching your arm lightly, causing you to look up at him with a puffy eyed scowl, “okay, no jokes then.” he sighs, pulling you into his side, rubbing his hand up and down your arm comfortingly. You open up to him about losing your mother and how you feel absolutely alienated by your dad, listening intently, not daring to interrupt. “I’ll make you a deal,” he speaks up after a long sigh from you, “No more head-fry behaviour, though, I sense it may be your forte” you smile a little, the corner of your mouth turning up into a smile, “I won’t fry your head if you don’t poach my heart.” he smiles tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “an eggcellent deal.”

As you’re walking through the halls on your way to divination, a pep in your step from a good night’s sleep and a new focus, finally you’re starting to actually feel as if Hogwarts was the place to be and you feel yourself growing happier and happier with every day you spend here. You’re distracted from your thoughts when you feel yourself being pulled hurriedly into a side corridor by your hand, Fred was staring down at you, his hand pressed against the wall by your head as he traps you between the stone and his own body, “How would you feel about a going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” he asks quietly, “Why all the secrecy Freddie? Don’t want to be caught fraternising with the enemy?” he laughs pressing a kiss to your cheek, “No, I just don’t want Umbridge finding out I’ve broken her six inch rule, but if you’re happy to risk it we can head to divination hand in hand now.” he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together, you giggle shaking your head, “We had a deal, no head frying.” he looks behind his shoulder before giving you some space, allowing you to continue your walk, “You didn’t answer me about the weekend.” you spin on your heel to look at him, continuing to walk backwards, “I think it would be eggciting, Freddie.” you spin back around to follow on with your journey, leaving the tall boy blushing and laughing to himself.

Freddie Weasley was a dime away from being a whole gentleman, he picked you up from the great hall and walked with you side by side to the small wizarding town, “I didn’t put you as a girl who enjoyed walking.” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder, you roll your eyes, “Well, I didn’t expect a flying car or anything,” he smiles, scratching the back of his neck, “well actually, my dad used to own one of those,” your jaw dropped, gasping a little, “As if!” He pushes open the door to the three broomsticks, sitting you down at a table as he shrugs off his jacket, hanging it over the chair, leaving to head over to the bar, he returns with a tray carrying two drinks and a plate. “Here you go, trouble.” he puts the drink in front of you, with you now being able to spot the contents of the plate, “Bread and fries, that's my treat?” he laughs, placing a few of the chips inside the slice of buttered bread, handing you the foreign looking sandwich “If I affect your life in no other way, then allow me this honour, the humble chip butty and a butterbeer ” You gingerly take the food into your hands, looking at it cautiously before directing your attention to the drink, scanning it for a few moments, “Here we go.” you take a small bite, the softness of the bread clashed with the hot chips which had melted the butter ever so slightly, it wasn’t unpleasant but it was definitely weird, “Kind of gross, but I like it.” you pop down the sandwich, taking a sip of the butterbeer.

After a few moments of talking, you found yourself staring into Fred’s eyes deeper and for longer, as if it no longer mattered what the two of you were saying, as long as you were with each other. “There’s something about you, Y/N,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear “Every moment I’m with you I catch my breath.” your hand presses gently against his chest, balling up the material of his t-shirt in your hand to pull him in closer. Before you knew it, your lips had connected in a soft, gentle kiss and you felt yourself melting into his touch. You were slowly coming to realise that the thing that could aid your leaving may actually be enticing you to stay. The kiss didn’t last long but it left your head spinning.

You had made your way towards the black lake, sitting on the verge just by the water, a blanket wrapped over both your shoulders, sat talking and watching the sunset as it changed and faded the colours in the sky. You were enamoured by him. Why did you have to fall so hard for him? “I need to tell you something.” he confessed, you lift your head from where it was resting on his shoulder, “What is it?” you shift a little so that you can look into his eyes but he averts your gaze. “George and I, we’re leaving here, to set up a shop down In London, I feel guilty for not telling you sooner but I didn’t think I’d fall for you as hard as I have.” He takes a deep breath, you’re stunned for words. “I’m sorry.” he breathes out finally. You grab his face, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Don’t ever be sorry for following your dreams, Freddie.”

In the week or so after your date with Fred, you noticed you hadn’t seen him as much and you wondered If there had been something you’d done wrong. Surely not, he must’ve just been busy planning the perfect exit, so you left him to it, until a whole two weeks had passed. You spotted him turning down a side hall, unmistakable tall, lanky, ginger - it must be him. You hurried down the corridor, yelling after the boy, “Freddie, wait!” hearing your voice made him walk a little faster, your shorter legs struggling to make a gain on him, you stop and shout once more, “Why do you keep avoiding me?” he stops bolt in his tracks, giving you an opportunity to catch up on him. “I’m surprised you want anything to do with such a plain English boy, collecting me like a trophy to brag to your Ilvermorny friends about how easy I was, or was that just another one of your cruel pranks to finally get yourself expelled?” you look up at him, brow furrowed In confusion. “Where did you get that from, Fred? I care about you, I really do.” he rolls his eyes, pushing past you, muttering under his breath, yet still audible enough for you to hear “bullshit.” You run back after him, “Freddie, you’re right, I was trying to get myself expelled, and I knew that being associated with you would do it with how much Umbridge despises you and Gorge, you have to believe that it was a horrible to do that to you at the start but- i've fallen for you.” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “It’s too late, Umbridge is already looking for you, Looks like you’ll get your wish after all.” A tear rolls down your cheek, “Freddie, I-” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry, trouble.”

The full flood gates open, as you make your way back to Gryffindor tower, tears streaming down your cheeks but your sobs are silent. How had you managed to lose the best thing to happen to you and get yourself expelled? You admire every inch of the castle grounds as you walk, fearing it’s the last time you may see it, when a picture catches your eye, locked in a cabinet full of trophies, medals and awards, you see a reflection of yourself staring back, “mom?” you whisper, pulling out your wand to unlock it with an ‘alohomora’, you grab the picture off the shelf, locking the cabinet again. McGonagall finds you wandering aimlessly, guiding you to Dumbledore’s office, “I have a feeling you will want to speak to him before your Father arrives,” she explains “Don’t worry, he’s expecting you.”

“Ah, Miss Y/N, I see you have found your way into my office,” He speaks quickly, as you come into his view, “I remember when your mother stood not too far from where you are stood before me now; a bright young student, a star quidditch player and not to mention a true hero against all odds. I take you found the photo of her in the cabinet, as you are clutching it so tightly.” you were at a loss for words, “You knew my mom?” you questioned, “Very well indeed, She was one of the best in her year, when word arrived of her death I sent all the help I could give to your father, I told him you would always find a home here at Hogwarts.” you sighed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “Then why am I being expelled?” you query, Dumbledore pauses for a moment, “You will learn a great many things here in your time, and already I see a change, you have gained knowledge, strength, integrity, good-will and determination. You have proven that you have the capacity to do well here and as I said Hogwarts will always be your home.” you smile, “Then I can stay, can I, Professor?” The old man chuckles “You have a quidditch game to get ready for, go out there and make your mother proud.” he smiles at you, you smile back at him gratefully. “Thank you, Professor.”

You run out, standing next to Fred, breathless from changing so quickly, “I thought you were getting expelled,” he joked, “As did I, I thought you hated me.” he sighed, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze, “Never. It’s good to have you back, trouble, even though you backed out of our deal.” you laughed, “What deal, Freddie?” you lace your fingers together, “that you won’t fry my head.” you bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Yeah, but you poached my heart.” He smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good luck out there, trouble.” your heart flutters, “Good luck to you too, Freddie.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred and george #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic #wild child #au #writing

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selene-tempest · 3 years

Text

Mud bath.

"Erm..." Selene blinked, not really knowing what to say.

"I know."

"It's just that..."

"I said I know!"

"There's just so much..."

"I get it!"

"That's gonna take some scrubbing."

"I'm aware of that fact," Kayo's curt reply held a definite tone of warning.

Selene couldn't blame her, not really. She was covered from head to toe in mud, the dirt clinging to her skin, soaked into her hair and Selene was pretty sure she'd heard the sound of squelching whenever the other woman moved.

"Do you need any he-"

"I've got it, thanks." Kayo turned her back, walking stiffly from the hangar to the adjoined showers, knowing that Grandma would pitch a fit if any of them traipsed mud up to the main house.

Dismissed, Selene gave up the battle, knowing that Kayo, more than anyone, had moments where she just wanted to be left alone.

-x-

"Anyone seen Kay?" Virgil asked later that night when they were all in the lounge, spread out across the sofas in what Jeff called Sloth mode. Nothing was moving them short of an emergency call, which they all desperately hoped wouldn't happen.

"Not since we got back," Gordon answered. "She said she was pretty tired, maybe she went straight to bed?"

"Without eating?" Selene's inbuilt need to care for those around her pinged into life.

"I'm sure she'll get something if she's hungry," Gordon shrugged, not taking his eyes off the show on the holoscreen.

"Don't be mean," Selene swiped at his shoulder. "How would you like it if you got back and no one fed you?"

"It happens all the time," he protested.

"Not while I'm here," she said firmly. "I'm going to go and check on her."

"Your funeral."

It took her very little time to rustle up some left over mac and cheese and she took it, along with a glass of milk, up to Kayo's room.

She knocked on the door but got no answer.

"Come on, open up, I've brought you some food."

"I'm not hungry," floated through the door.

"Don't give me that shit, you haven't eaten since breakfast."

Nothing.

"It's mac and cheese," she wheedled.

Selene heard a sigh of defeat, followed by shuffling footsteps coming closer to the door.

"I'm warning you now," Kayo said through gritted teeth, "you'd better not laugh."

Selene frowned. What was there to laugh about?

"Promise me."

"Erm... OK, I promise not to laugh."

The door opened slowly, just enough for Selene to squeeze through, slamming shut behind her the moment she was inside the room.

"Where shall I put this..." Selene trailed off, catching sight of Kayo for the first time. "Oh lawd."

"Don't. Laugh."

"I wasn't going to!" Selene slid the tray of food onto the bedside table and turned to get a closer look.

"Yeah, right. I know how it looks, I've looked in the mirror."

"I honestly wasn't going to," Selene assured her. And she hadn't been. Her poor friend didn't need teasing, she needed help. Badly.

Her hair, that beautiful, thick, naturally shiny hair that Selene secretly lusted after but couldn't get without a mountain of products, looked like shit. There, she said it, even if it was just in her own head. It was fluffed up beyond all recognition, a mass of tangles and frizz the likes of which Selene had never seen.

"I'm sorry, I gotta ask..."

Kayo folded her arms, tapping her foot, daring Selene to say something shitty.

"How the hell did that happen?"

"I don't know," Kayo huffed. "I know my ponytail got loose from my helmet, that's never good because it gets all tangled then. Then the band snapped and it was a lost cause."

Selene nodded, she'd had a similar experience with her hair coming out of the back of her jacket while riding on the back of her Dad's motorbike and it had taken her and her mum the best part of an evening and two washes to get it untangled again.

"I've washed it three times, blow dried it and broken a brush on it but it's just made it worse."

"What type of conditioner did you use?"

"The one I always do, the one in the locker room and then mine up here. That one that Grandma buys in bulk."

Selene's eyes widened in horror as her friend described the torment she had just admitted to putting her hair through.

"Generic conditioner? You used generic conditioner? The same shit that Alan uses? That conditioner? And then you tried to brush it out?"

Kayo shrugged.

"What are you, a savage?"

"What else would I do to get tangles out?"

"Oh my gods," Selene clasped her hands over her heart and swayed dramatically. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. How? How could you think that would be OK?"

"It's always been OK every other time."

"No! No don't you dare dismiss it and pretend that you didn't just commit a cardinal hair sin!"

Kayo shrugged again.

Selene pointed at Kayo then the tray of food. "You, you're going to eat that while I go and get some emergency supplies, and then we're going to fix this mess!"

Selene didn't give Kayo a chance to respond, she just swept out of the room, having delivered her orders which she expected to be obeyed. Kayo wanted to argue but knew it was a pointless waste of energy. Her hair felt like straw, she was grumpy and now that the enticing scent of cheesy pasta was permeating the room, she realised she was hungry too.

By the time Selene returned, arms ladened with so many bottles Kayo was sure she had just robbed a salon, she had eaten all of the food, drank half the milk and could admit that she actually felt a bit better.

"Right," Selene declared, dumping her load on the bed and sorting through it. "This is a moisturing shampoo, it's my favourite, the one that Scott keeps stealing. We're going to wash your hair with this and then we're going to slap on this deep conditioning mask and leave it for the full half hour before rinsing."

"Half an hour?" Selene had never heard Kayo sound so shocked.

"Yep, while wearing this." Selene produced something that looked like deflated balloon that had mated with a wedding bouquet.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a swimming cap, ignore the flowers, it'll keep the conditioner in place and create warmth to help it soak in, we'll cover it with a towel, you won't see it."

It took some persuading, but soon Kayo was back with soaking wet hair. Selene helped her to smother her locks in an insane amount of the hair mask and wrestled it into the swimming cap then wrapped her whole head in a towel.

"I feel ridiculous."

"Ypu look it too, but beauty is pain and it'll be worth it in the end."

"I know at least six different ways to kill you without you making a sound, they will never find your body."

"But you wouldn't do that to me, would you? Because then you'd be combing that shit out on your own."

The witch spoke the truth.

"Urghhh," Kayo groaned, refusing to admit defeat but knowing she had to. "This is going to take forever."

"Nah, it won't, don't sweat it. We'll have a girly night. Look, I bought face masks and chocolate too, it'll be great."

There was protests, but Selene quickly bulldozed through them like she always did, going so far as to launch herself at the other woman and sit on her when she tried to escape to lock herself in the bathroom, holding her down while she scrubbed at her face with a cleansing wipe and then painted on the mask. Ignoring her outraged screeching as she flailed her arms in a defensive attack.

The door opened at one point, Gordon and Alan sticking their heads in to make sure everything was OK. In their house screaming was never ignored. They took one look at Selene straddling Kayo, holding a dripping brush between her teeth while Kayo tried to push her hands away, both girls faces smeared in bright green face mud, and backed right out again. Selene didn't blame them.

Kayo looked at Selene, her eyes narrowing as if she were about to shove her onto the floor, but then her lips curved in a smile and she started to laugh.

They both collapsed into manic giggling, unable to stop. The looks on the boys faces ahd been priceless, as had theirs when they had turned to look at the door, pausing in the middle of their fighting.

"Thats going to be all around the island in the next ten minutes," Kayo howled.

"Oh gods, yes. They're never going to let this be forgotten," Selene wheezed, easing up on her friend and rolling sideways to get off her.

By the time their hysterics had subsided Selene gave Kayo permission to wash out her hair.

Over the course of the next two hours Selene smothered Kayo's hair in detangler and painstakingly combed through the now thankfully not so tangled mass, working in tiny sections at a time, from the tip to the roots until she could run the comb smoothly through her hair.

As they worked, with Kayo sat on the floor in front of the bed and Selene perched on the edge behind her, they fell into an easy chatter, sharing the chocolate Selene had brought with her and catching up.

If anyone asked, Selene would say she was closest to the boys, and most definitely Scott, but she counted Kayo as a close friend just the same.

At first meeting the two women had decided that they had very little in common, although they had banded together, two girls in a sea of testosterone that was Tracy Island and had become close pretty quickly.

Selene was more of a girly girl, finding enjoyment in putting on makeup, dressing up in nice clothes and watching weepy movies. Whereas Kayo was a tougher nut. She didn't really like dresses and considered makeup to be a waste of time, but they had worked hard to find a common ground.

Kayo had been used to being the lone girl (apart from Grandma) on the island and Selene often wondered if her mother dying young and her moving to the island where she had had to hold her own with what amounted to a chattering pack of wild monkeys, had stopped her from exploring her feminine side a bit more.

Kayo was great for so many things, she and Selene often spent their workout time together and had found they both shared a curious fascination for real crime documentaries, especially those of a more historical nature like Ted Bundy, The Yorkshire Ripper and the Night Stalker, it was interesting to try to figure out how today's modern technologies could have helped with the cases.

They would be found by John, wide awake in the small hours of the morning, camped out in the lounge with blankets and unhealthy snacks that Kayo would never admit to actually eating, engaged in some debate or other, sharing theories on unsolved cases or giving their opinions on one's that had already been solved.

No, their Kayo could never be described as girly but she was awesome just the same.

As Selene worked Kayo regaled her was the story of the whole sorry rescue from start to finish, starting with the flooding and finishing with all of then wallowing around in knee high muck, slopping around, falling over and basically having a less than relaxing mud bath.

The boys had had it easy, they just needed a quick shower and change of clothes, but Kayo had not been so lucky.

But the time all the tangles were out of her hair and Selene had dried it with the hairdryer she'd borrowed from Virgil's room, both girls were laughing again and with each sweep of the brush through her friends hair Selene felt her tense shoulder relaxing, simply enjoying the feel of someone looking after her for once.

Kayo didn't like being looked after, where the boys were always happy to accept any and all attention, especially if it came in the form of food, hugs or tv buddies, Kayo was more reserved and less likely to seek out company when she felt tired or moody. Selene made a mental note to force her company on her friend more often.

"There, all done," Selene announced, running her fingers through it one more time just because it felt so soft and shiny now that it had had some TLC.

"It actually feels amazing," Kayo admitted, stroke a strand between finger and thumb.

"That's because your heathen head has finally been nourished with something decent."

Kayo ignored that dig as Selene started to gather up her products, leaving some on the bedside table for Kayo to keep.

"There, that wasn't too horrendous was it?"

"So you say," Kayo huffed, but there was just a tiny hint of a smile on her face.

"So you wouldn't want to make this a monthly thing then?"

Kayo rolled her eyes. "Obviously not."

Selene shrugged, turning to pick up her things.

"But, I consider you my friend so, you know, hanging out once a month wouldn't be that much of a chore, but only because you want to."

"Oh, of course," Selene agreed, trying not to laugh.

"So, what now?" Kayo asked, reluctant to admit that it had actually been quite a fun night that she wasn't really ready to end yet.

Selene thought about it for a moment or two. "Wash off this stuff," she pointed to the mask that had long since dried into a flaking, crusty mess, "and then shove the boys off the couch so we can watch the next episode of 'Crimes of Passion, the 80s years'?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

Big thanks to @myladykayo for the picture prompt. Not sure what this turned into but I went with it.

#kayo kyrano #selene tempest #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds fanfiction #witchy

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

Text

Tracing a shadow - part 2

Pairing: None

Requested: No

Word Count: 2822 words

Warnings: Drug use mentioned, underage drinking

Summary: Michael getting drunk and sad about the death of his big sister Anna.

Author’s Note: Maybe there is going to be a third part, where Anna lives... but I still not sure about this.

And virtual kisses and hugs for every like, reblog, comment or else!

Do not repost my work

A week was all it took for him to learn the truth. At first he was reluctant to ask, but after they had visited Polly’s new and suburban house, he knew that nobody else was home but Polly, the maid and him.

While waiting for the maid to bring the food, Polly said something that upset him. He looked just like his father and he didn’t know what to do with this piece of information. Should he be proud to look like the man who had beaten him? Michael bit his lip and stood silent. There were no words suitable for this situation.

Polly seemed to notice and explain how his biological father had died, smashed between the canal and the boot. Michael didn’t care about this. In fact he had already expected something similar. It was too quiet around the house. The presence of his father would have been noticeable.

He had no hard feelings about his death. The few memories about his father weren’t actually nice. So there was nothing to grieve about. And anyway, who said that he needed a father? Especially a father like this. Michael was almost a man and he survived this hell of a mess called his life all on his own.

But then after two days of staying at the house, he became jittery. There was a purpose for his arrival and he needed to fulfill it. Obviously, Anna wasn’t here, when Tommy did his research, maybe he didn’t just look for Michael but also for the long lost daughter of Elisabeth Gray. Or Polly knew something.

Well, this was speculated, but he wouldn’t give up and go, before he’d even tried. So he started looking around the house. Anything from her could be helpful.

Five days later, Michael went up to the house in the watery lane. There was something strange about this place and he hated every minute he had to spend there, but Polly was gone to work, so he could search unimpeded.

Soon he realized that his mother had vanished every evidence about her children around the house. It did hurt, but he could understand her. To lose custody was her lowest point. She told him something like this. At least she’d acknowledged that. This couldn’t heal his old scares, he knew, but it eased the pain. He told himself she changed for the better. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed.

The last room was their old chamber, Anna’s and his. He avoided going in there, but there was no way around it. Cold sweat ran down his back, when he stared at the door. Feeling the cold door handle in his hand made him gulp. His anxiety went through the roof.

Everything was still the same. He could tell that by first sight. In opposing corners were their beds. The bear figure from grandfather stood on the dresser. Anna loved playing with it. Being in this room was horrible for him. All the memories of her and his childhood rushed over him, crushed him to bits and pieces.

Suddenly he felt sick, almost like puking. He couldn’t be in this room anymore. Furthermore he was stupid to believe there was a hint about her whereabouts. Nobody was in there for years. Everything was dusted and it sort of looked like a shrine.

His feet took him out, faster than he could think. When the door was closed again, he was relieved. Without looking back, he hurried downstairs, mostly to get away from this nightmare, but also because he heard Polly entering the house.

‘Oh, you are here?’ she asked. Her eyes widened as she glared at him. Of course Polly expected him to be in the nice house with the ham and the maid and not here with his crumbled childhood memories.

Michael coughed slightly and nodded. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find any good explanation for his behavior. Then he fumbled his hands in his pockets and faced the floor. It was like she caught him, but with was exactly? It was not a crime going into what used to be his room.

With his new found courage he declared: ‘I was upstairs in my old chamber.’ He signed, peeked at the big clock right behind Polly and then back to her. ‘I mean… Anna’s and mine.’

Polly’s mimic was somewhere between hurt and thunderstruck. He caught her off-guard just by saying her name. This was no good sign at all. Michael got the impression there was something she kept from him. He was no child anymore and she from all the people should know that. If there was some secret about his sister, he needed to know.

‘Where is she anyway?’ he dug deeper, regardless of her feelings. The tears filled her eyes and gave him a scare. Her hands were covering her mouth, as she mumbled: ‘You really want to know this now?’

Again he nodded but with the stoic calm of a child that has already been broken. Now the sadness hit him too. The world lost its color while she explained it to him. His heart ached. He couldn’t stand hearing about her death.

Suddenly his body felt numb. Her words were muted as his world began to shatter. Michael closed his eyes, so he wouldn’t cry, but it didn’t matter as the tears found their way out anyway. There was nothing he could do about it. Everything felt just so useless. Why was he even here? And why did he wait so long to ask?

Polly stumbled into him, probably with the intention of a hug, but Michael refused. Without a blink he pushed her away. Everything seemed to hurt him now, even the simple touch. A tear rolled down and hit his shirt. ‘I need to be alone right now’, was the last thing he said before storming off.

He just couldn’t stand how Polly looked at him and to top it off she wanted to nurture him. That was the last thing he needed. Outside he first didn’t know where to go, but before he should make one more step in any direction, he wiped off the wetness from his cheeks.

His head tilted as he stared at the greyish sky of bad old Birmingham. Suddenly he knew which way to go. Michael made his plan. It arranged itself in his mind, piece by piece.

First he went straight to the Garrison. There he greeted Henry with a dull voice and asked for liquor, cigarettes and a matchbook. For Tommy, he said, knowingly that this request couldn’t be denied. He had learned already, that his family was somehow the unholy rulers of this rotten empire. It was not like he had something against that. Actually it was quite useful. Being Elisabeth Gray’s son had his benefits. Without a second ask the barkeeper put a whole bottle, three packages of cigarettes and some matches on the counter. The whole time Michael’s face stood bland. He took everything with him and left in silence.

Now his pace wasn’t confident as he headed towards the fields just at edge of town. He should know the way, but his memory was blurred. In his head played a scene of Anna and him running around a willow which stood near a creek. Actually he didn’t had a good reason to search for this spot, but something in his gut commanded him to.

Somehow he reached his destination. Michael wasn’t so sure this was the same tree his sister liked so much, but it didn’t really matter, as she wasn’t here to argue with him and she never would be. He just wanted to feel near her, but that was impossible, so he went with the next best thing.

As if his body lost the last bits of energy he slumped down. In the mud he sat, unsure with what he should start; crying, smoking or drinking. He had never done this stuff, but now he needed to. Everything ached and especially his throat was bone dry. So he went with the whiskey first. How much he hated the taste of it. The burning feeling in his chest expanded and the liquor left bitterness on his lips and tongue.

Just like he had a task list to do, he put the bottle away and fumbled in his jacket for the cigarettes. Michael hated smoking even more than drinking but he still remembered how Anna stole mum’s fags for the whole purpose of acting so adult. ‘Butt me.’, demanded a squeaky voice in his head. It was Anna crossing his mind again and again.

With shaky hands he tried to light his cigarette. Out here in the field it was too windy so he moved closer to the tree. It finally worked, but even the few drags made him cough terribly. He leaned against the bark and started to blubber. While he walked here, he could still stifle his feelings, but now they wrecked him.

Everything was pushing him down, more than ever. The sadness took him hostage. He was so up his mind, that he noticed the cigarette on his leg too late. Now there was not only a hole in his pants but also a burn on his skin. With all his might he slammed the cigarette butt in the grass next to him. He didn’t need those anyway.

Somehow he was sad and angry and full of doubts, too much to handle for him all on his own. He needed her now, but Anna was gone and she wouldn’t come back ever again. Michael knew that but he refused to accept this. How could she be dead when they made an oath to finally be reunited again? She swore it and now… He was here, but she was not.

He was unable to grasp it. Her death seemed so unreal and yet it did happen. Polly told him the truth, she wouldn’t have lied. If there had been any chance Anna was still alive, she would have told him so. But then again… how?

‘She tried coming back even after she was adopted by another family, so they took her around the globe, where she couldn’t run. There she died.’ That was Polly’s explanation, but it wasn’t enough for Michael. He needed to know how. It would haunt him over and over again, if he didn’t know the details. In his head he imagined every possible way it could have happened, which just made it worse.

Anna’s face kept messing with him. He still remembered her brown eyes, that daring grin, that could win everybody over and how her auburn brown hair framed her face. His sister had glowing skin from all the days she spent outdoors with grandpa. She had a captivating presence and she’d known how to use it. How easily she could charm people. This would apply to animals too. Anna had something bold to her and god, she feared nothing. Nobody could intimidate her. That’s what he treasured the most about her.

As a child he had so much to fear. He was scared about everything and anything, but Anna had protected him. His big sister was hero and he thought she was invincible. She put up a fight with Arthur, who was at that time already two heads taller than her, just because she wanted her cousins to take her seriously. And after that they did. She incited John to steal money from his parents, which ended horrible. Everything she did and everything she was astonishing. There just was something about her, something so light and mesmerizing. How could she have been bought to her knees by a simple disease?

Now her light was out and Michael would never see it again. That insight hit him hard. His eyes were already red and swollen, but he couldn’t stop crying, even though he struggled for air. After all he still was a child and until now there was still something that hadn’t broken. This final piece shattered too and he would never be the same person. After all this pain he had been though, he thought in the end everything would work out for him and they would meet again. He still had the glimpse of hope, but that was gone, just like her.

Would she still look the same today? Or maybe she would have changed? Wore her hair short by now? Probably she would have been a blinder too. The flat cap with the razor blades would have suited her and she always had liked to mess with people, especially with Tommy. Anna laughed her ass off every time she successfully made Tommy mad. He fought a lot with her, but Michael liked to think, that his cousin still cared about her.

Suddenly he had a clear picture in his mind how she would look by now and it fucked him up completely. She should have lived. He needed her. How could he survive without her? And even though he knew that she was dead, there still was a part in him, that didn’t want to believe this. But that was just denial, the first stage of grief. Michael knew this, not that he could do something about this. Instead he just sat there and drank. He drowned so much whiskey despite the horrible taste, but it numbed the pain.

‘Why you?’ he sobbed: ‘You promised to come back. Why did you leave me alone?’ His sister wouldn’t hear his words, but he needed to say them. ‘What happened? You said to me, you would come back and save me. You know what they did to me. To us and then you were gone. They shouldn’t have given you to this horrible family. We should be together.’ His voice was accusing, even though there were no judges or benches. A fire burned in his chest. He demanded answers, but he wouldn’t get any.

‘Why did they break us apart? We were better together- a team.’ Michael mumbled into the void. ‘I needed you and you needed me. Why? God, why? I just…’ The words kept blubber out of him. Now he cried even uglier. ‘I… I… I just… can’t… can’t believe that you… are gone… and how?’ Thinking about this made him crazy. His own thoughts choked him and he let it happen. ‘Were you all alone? And where did it happen? Did you have any friends? Did someone hold your hand when you had died? Were you scared? Did you cry? I don’t fucking know and it kills me.’

Michael was drunk by now, but he didn’t feel any better. Actually it has gotten worse. The wind on the field was cold and he didn’t take his coat while rushing off. Now it was fucking freezing and he was all alone. The sky was getting darker and he could tell that the rain could start any time now, but he still hadn’t the power to move, not even an inch.

His tears had stopped and now he was just sad. God, he must have made a terrible impression, with the red face and the unkempt hair. While crying he had rubbed his face so much, that it hurt. While he sat here he ripped out some grass and watched it flowing in the wind. Downside to that was the grass all over him. Michael brushed it off his pants and then grabbed to bottle. When he drank it, he became so sick, he almost puked. In his anger he threw the bottle away.

There was nothing in him. The fire burned down and now it was just a pile of ashes. He felt empty and numb, which was relieving compared to the pain from before. It must have been hours, he had been sitting here. Michael was just tired, too tired to move a finger. Then everything got blurry and dark as his eyes closed.

When someone woke him up, much later that evening, he almost forgot where he was. ‘Fuck, you smell like schnapps. Pol is going to kill me!’ grumbled a familiar voice.

His head hurt like hell and Michael couldn’t think straight. The surroundings flickered before his eyes. He sounded so hoarse when he blurred out a ‘What?’

‘She sent everybody to look for you. She thought you went back to the other family.’ Explained John and hefted his cousin up. During this procedure Michael moaned like stubborn child. He didn’t want to go back and he certainly didn’t want to see Polly, but he didn’t have much of a choice. John dragged him back to the Watery Lane.

‘Did you really want to scoop?’ he asked. Michael didn’t know a lot about their world, but he already made the decision to stay. It was what Anna would have wanted.

‘No’ he replied: ‘Unfortunately… you guys have to bear me a little longer.’

#Michael Gray #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #aunt polly #polly gray #john shelby #Anna gray

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writinginthedarkwood · 4 years

Text

Kistune! Todoroki Part 2.

A sequel to my most popular post! Part one is here -> https://writinginthedarkwood.tumblr.com/post/188178949954/kitsune-todoroki-a-mischievous-encounter (I have no clue how to make my links small someone send help plz lmao)

Warnings: nsfw. I know what you sinners want.

“Good morning Master Shoto.” The air smelled very crisp and clean like it does everyday. I took a deep breath as my feet padded gently across the stone floor towards the meditating yokai. I brought the tray of tea to the flat rock in front of him and set it down. The porcelain clattered just a bit against the wooden tray, I began our morning routine by pouring him his cup first, and then mine.

Shoto took a deep breath, his ear twitching a bit to the sound of the birds crying above us, large twisted looking things with beady eyes. “We have a few black birds visiting our shrine today Master Shoto.” I smiled a bit, speaking quietly. Shoto loved to hear the sounds of the morning, nothing more relaxing to him then the sunshine slowly heating up the day while all of the forests creatures woke up. Shoto opened one eye, his face twisting suspiciously as he looked around. “Crows... never really liked them much.” He spit out just above a whisper. The large birds cawed loudly, their screeches much louder than the singing birds we usually hear. Shoto sighed and uncrossed his legs, pulling himself up to stand and look at the roof of our home. “Did you need something?” He asked sternly. “Or did you come all this way to ruin my morning and ruin my morning alone?”

The big black birds flapped their wings, rushing off of the roof and into the air, spiraling around Shoto. Midnight black feathers fell off of the birds into a pile at Shoto’s feet. The birds flew away in a perfect “V” formation.

Shoto picked one of the feathers off of the ground and twirled it in his finger for a moment. “How strange...” I said under my breath. The feather changed shape with an electric “pop” Shoto dropped it quickly, a yellow tinted piece of paper floated gently to the ground. I quickly picked it up for him, handing him the paper to read it over.

“Ah, it seems that I’ve been invited to a wedding, my love.” Shoto folded the paper in half and handed it to me. “Would you please put this somewhere for safe keeping?” I nodded my head yes and kissed his cheek.

Shoto didn’t explicitly state that I COULDN’T read the letter for myself... but he didn’t exactly offer for me the chance... I tossed the idea around in my head for just a moment before quickly unfolding the paper.

It was letters I didn’t understand at all. I’ve been quite proud of my reading comprehension skills, I can even speak some languages in the West but... I’ve never seen characters quite like this before.

I pouted and put the paper in kitchen where I could easily find it.

All afternoon I followed Shoto as he walked the grounds. We spend a lot of our day’s gardening together. Shoto doesn’t think it’s safe for me to spend time outside of our home without him. I haven’t noticed many differences these past few weeks from the village, the weather is the same, the animals are the same, the sun rises and sets at a normal time... yet I can tell I’m somewhere different than before.

Something in the air is different, like I’m somehow walking a dream.

“Look now darling!” Shoto called to me. I turned to look over my shoulder. I was sitting crouched by our collection of orchids. Shoto proudly pointed above his head to the branches of our persimmon tree. “It’s fruiting.” He can be so stoic at times, his face often showing little emotion. I smiled brightly at the beaming kitsune. “Could I try one Master Shoto?” I wiped the dirt off of my hands onto my apron. I walked to him and he cupped my face gently. His thumb brushed over my cheek. “You have dirt on you, silly human.” His angelic face smirked at me, his mysterious eyes staring at me with all of the love in his heart. Without breaking eye contact, he stuck his palm out, a persimmon falling perfectly into his hand. He studied the fruit before taking a bite out of it. I reached for the treat to take a bite myself and he pulled the fruit away. “This one is for me! You’ll have to get your own little-” I snatched the persimmon out of his hand, interrupting him and quickly taking a huge bite. “Why you-” He chased me around the tree, grabbing at my yukata and laughing his deep raspy laugh. I dodged his grasp and giggled as I ran from him through our flowers and herbs. “You can’t catch me!” I called out, my bare feet carrying me quickly through the weaving pathway.

“Oh can’t I?�� Shoto popped in front of me, his form appearing in a blink of the eye. I gasped and collided with his chest, knocking us both over. The persimmon rolled into the mud, as we both laughed. His chest rumbled with me on top of him, I laid my head on his shoulder and kissed his neck between fits of giggles.

We settled a bit and his eyes lingered over my mouth. Without a thought we connected, our lips brushing together softly.

The sound of loud branches cracking broke our kiss. My head snapped up and Shoto rolled me gently off of his chest and onto the ground. He looked around, his face cold as he listened for movement. His ears moved with the sound of the wind, his eyes didn’t leave the tree line.

He sniffed the air and placed an arm over my chest. “Go inside and sit by the shrine.” His voice was steady, completely focused. “Wh-what is it Shoto?”

A low throat growl slipped past his lips as he commanded me. “Now.”

I sprinted inside of our home and threw our bedroom door open. The fountain trickled happily with the bonzai tree’s roots pulsing as it drank up the crystal clear water. I sat on the ground and scooted close to the stone, not exactly sure how close I’m supposed to sit. I let my back touch the fountain and I waited in eerie silence.

It was only a few moments before I heard Shoto call my name. He opened the sliding paper door.

With him was a strange looking man. He wore dark clothes, and had wild yellow hair. He had huge black wings folded against his back, and his smile was wide and oddly, not kind.

I stood and bowed to the guest, nobody has come to visit us before. “This is my servant, Y/N. Would you like her to make us some tea, Kaminari?” The man stepped further inside of the room, his eyes wandering around to the ceiling, the floor, the shrine, and finally back to me.

“Kind of a quaint place you have here Todoroki. Didn’t your style used to be more... grand?” He talked to Shoto without breaking his gaze from me. I shifted uncomfortably and looked to Shoto for some type of guidance. His eyes were locked onto the back of this mans head. “The name is Kaminari! I’m the leader of a Tengu clan that’s settled in the Western world...” He tilted his head as he looked me over. “A little birdy told me Shoto had taken a human mate...” He chuckled a bit. “I didn’t believe that could be true... I mean humans aren’t really his style...”

“I already told you Kaminari, she’s my servant. We made a deal.” Kaminari laughed and put a hand on my shoulder. Shoto tensed up, but didn’t move. “See I found myself a gorgeous human girl of my own, I bought her from some scuzz bag in this dinky town I’m running.” He clicked his tongue. “Of course I had to invite my old buddy to see this bachelor finally get off the market! I thought for a minute maybe you were copying me, but sense she’s just a servant...” He put another hand on my other shoulder, giving me a light shake. I didn’t dare move. “How much do you want for her? My clan mates are really jealous, they had no clue humans could make good mates.” He put to fingers on my chin and pinched. “She’s pretty cute, Sero would be more than happy to mate with this one.” I swallowed hard, my body trembled as his thumbs hooked onto my shoulder blade, a strange sensation rippling over my skin. It felt like the air after a lightning storm, but on my body.

“Sorry, she’s not for sale.” Shoto crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders. “Oh come on, a lady of such high quality shouldn’t be limited to working her whole life.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and twirled it in his fingers. “What was the price you paid to be indebted to such a monster little dove? Whatever it is I’ll pay it.”

My voice caught in my throat and I looked down at the floor. “P-please don’t call Master Shoto a monster...” I didn’t dare look him in the face. His breath was cold against the back of my neck. “And why not? He has you locked in this shabby little shack, tilling his gardens and pouring him tea? My clan is very wealthy, my brother would treat you well, give you beautiful little half breed children.”

The sound of something sharp whistled through the air, the tengu was torn away from me and slammed against the wall. Kaminari laughed, he ripped an icicle out of his jacket that had him pinned to the wood. He tossed it to the ground with a smile. Something burned in Shoto’s eyes, his finger was pointed at the tengu, ice forming around his wrist.

“Enough is enough, Kaminari.” Shoto hissed through clenched teeth.

I rushed to Shoto and hid behind him, touching his back and hiding part of my face behind his long hair. “Just a servant then, huh kitsune?” He held his hands in the air with a smug smile. “You don’t have to lie to your old pal. I won’t tell your little secret, but uh, I’ll let you know.” He shook his shoulders and his wings expanded, a harsh breeze rushing across the room with a spray of feathers. “I’m not the only one that’s caught scent of your little...” He thought for a moment. “Well, whatever you two are. If you were planning on making things official... I’d do it soon.” He straightened out his coat and winked at the two of us before disappearing in a gust of black feathers.

We ate dinner in relative silence. Shoto could see I had a million questions racing in my mind, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut it with the knife he was using to cut our meat. “The rabbit you caught came out delicious. Do you like these spices with it Shoto?” He nodded a bit, looking over my head at the wall. After the tengu left, Shoto spent the rest of the day meditating on the roof. I prepared dinner and sang to myself, trying to keep busy when I’m itching to push him for explanations.

I don’t feel like a servant, I love to make his meals and tea. I love keeping our clothes clean, the shrine beautiful and our plants happy.

We dance at night time to the sounds of singing crickets. They chirp unnatural melodies, sounding more like violins than any bug I’ve heard. No I don’t feel like a servant at all, I love my life with him.

I love him.

“Why don’t we star gaze tonight? I think I saw a shooting star the other night and I want to see another.” I just about cleared my plate of the rest of the rice. I sipped my water, eyeing Shoto to see if he had anything to add to the conversation. Shoto laid his head on his hand and winced in pain. He groaned and took a jagged breath. “Shoto love? Are you alright?” I reached to touch his hand and he pulled away. Shoto’s eye’s burned bright red, glowing from behind his finger tips. I recoiled, not in fear but in shock. He stood quickly from our meal and headed for the door. “Shoto!” I crossed my arms and furrowed my brow at him. “Please tell me what’s going on.” He stumbled a bit in the doorway, shaking his head and shivering. “It’s nothing.” His eyes were normal. He opened the door and the night air crept in, giving me a bit of a chill. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” He shut the door behind him with a slam. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, why the sudden attitude? I cleared out our dinner bowls and scraped them clean. I guess with all of the chores done and the sudden alone time, I could take a bath and wash off today’s strange aura. I grabbed my favorite soap scented with lavender and a clean cloth towel off of the drying line.

Our bath house is built over a natural hot spring, the hot water is surrounded by smooth stone. The simple wooden walls connect at a point on the ceiling, leaving a small round hole for the moon to shine through.

The soap ran across my skin and lathered. I hummed to myself, I scrunched my hair over the edge of the water into a bucket, letting the suds reach deep to my skull. I hate to get too much soap in the spring, but it always seems to find a way to filter out.

I finished washing my hair and laid my head against the rock and closed my eyes, just letting the cool texture create a contrast that eased some of the tension I carried in my neck today.

The door slid open, the walls shaking a bit as the flimsy wood clashed against the wall. I didn’t open my eyes, if Shoto would like to continue throwing a tantrum, that was his choice. I tried not to smile, I don’t want him to know how happy I am he caught me in such an intimate moment. “Hello Master.” I said through a straight mouth.

“Get out of the water.” His voice sounded hollow, like he was in several places at once. The tone low and incredibly raspy. I opened one eye and peered at him.

My jaw dropped and I gasped. “Shoto...?” His eyes were burning with a furious light, his beautiful kimono was gone, naked with his member completely alert. He had a strange new addition to his body, he had a tail. No, several tails floating behind him like they were blowing in the wind. His jagged and sharp teeth bit down onto his lip, drawing a bit of golden blood. He was over to me in a second, pulling me out of the water and pressing me against the stone. My breath caught in my chest, his lips smashing down on top of mine. His teeth knocked against mine, his tongue jamming into my mouth. I pressed both of my hands onto his shoulders and pushed, gasping for air. “What has gotten into you?” Shoto let out a low animalistic growl. His chest was heaving, his breath very shallow like he wasn’t getting any air. “Listen I-” He traced his hands up the side of my body, his fingers drinking up all of the details of my skin. I closed my eyes, his touch making me practically purr. “I need you... I’m going to take you right now.” He pulled my hips to sit center underneath of him, adjusting me so that he could put himself between my legs. “Master...” My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he positioned his tip to fit between my clenched walls. He massaged the area for just a second before stuffing his cock right into me. He wasted no time working up a pace. He thrust into me with wild fever, holding my hips pinned down against the floor. His thumbs dug into my flesh, sure to leave little marks tomorrow. I couldn’t control the sounds leaving my mouth, little moans slipping out. He bit down on my neck, not slowing down his pace at all. I cried out, his teeth sharp and drawing a bit of blood. “Shh, shh love.” He groaned in my ear. “You need a mark from me...” He kissed over the tender spot on my neck. “Sh-shoto.. hng~” I gripped onto his back, my heat pooled onto him. The sound of him slipping into me was loud and slick, he slowed just a bit, every inch of him filling my hole. My sensitivity was building, the pressure built in my core. “Do you like taking my cock Y/N?” He nipped at my ear lobe. “Y-yes Master.” He stopped thrusting, holding his cock deep inside of me but completely still. “I can’t let any other creature have you.” He held my face, kissing along my jaw line between words. “I don’t want anyone else Master...” He smiled against my skin, pulling out of me suddenly. The pressure inside of me halted, my stomach rolled as my body begged to have a climax. Shoto pulled me off of the stone and flipped me to my knees. He bent my body forward, my face pressed against the rock. He grabbed both of my hands and held them behind my back, his strength keeping me suspended in the air just off of the ground. His hips bucked into me, bouncing me against him over and over again with a hypnotic pattern. I can’t do anything but cry out, repeating his name over and over again as my body burned. The sounds he was making were absolutely primal, he growled viciously, fucking me with every bit of his strength. I screamed, my walls clenching around him as my body rocked with pleasure. His breath hitched, his body tensed up, his hands wrapping tighter around my wrists. “Your pleasure is milking me-” He pressed himself against me as hard as he could.

Ropes of cum spilled out of him and against my cervix. He came with enough volume that the virile fluid spilled out and onto my thighs. He took a moment to take a deep breath before pressing me flat against the stone, letting my arms go. His chest pressed against my back, his breath tickled the back of my neck. “I’m not finished with you yet. You’ll be taking my load until dawn breaks.”

I studied the interesting mark in the glass mirror. The morning light shown through the window. It didn’t look like a normal bite mark, it resembled more of a tattoo. Where the teeth marks should have been were actually dots in the pattern of a blue orchid. “My mark looks beautiful on you.” Shoto sat behind me holding my waist with his strong arms. “What does it mean?” I rested my head on him, letting his wandering hands soothe me. “It means that you are my mate.” He hesitated for a moment, admiring it on me before finishing his thought. “I go through reproductive cycles. There will be nights like last night where I...” He almost looked embarrassed, but if you didn’t know him as well as I you would never notice. “I just feel the urge to breed.”

I let out a giggle and he frowned. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Of course not. It feels good to be wanted that badly.” My body felt very sore. It’s hard to keep up with the stamina of such a ravenous beast. “I think seeing that tengu touch you unlocked a side of me I have been repressing for a long time now.” He kissed my cheek. “I love you Shoto. I’m happy to be your... mate.” I giggled and he squeezed me tighter. “I love you my little human, and I will until the sun dies.”

Have you read Tengu Kaminari’s story? It’s tagged under # inthewoods yokai if you haven’t :)

Please consider donating to my Ko Fi account. The link is in my bio. I love you, my requests are open!

#inthewoods yokai #bnha lemon #kitsune todoroki #monster boy #bnha imagines #bnha smut #shoto todoroki smut #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha monster au #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #shoto x reader

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amazon-me-bitches · 4 years

Text

Title: Borderline Pairing: Roman centric, Platonic Creatwins, background Roman/Thomas Synopsis: Roman is already having a bad day and now there’s a hole in the border wall separating his and Remus side of the imagination. Authors note: I am a delicate baby that can’t handle criticism so if you don’t like it it np just feel free to quietly keep scrolling (= no comment needed. I am bad at breaking things into chapters and I use commas more like sprinkles than anything so...I tried. ----------------------------------------------------- Roman sighed leaning on the balcony railing. He looked out over his kingdom in the imagination and felt the warm air and sun on his face. It was truly beautiful but even the smell of the hanging lilacs could not stop the moisture from building in his eyes or the burn of his throat.

He swiped a hand against his face angerly scrubbing at the tears. He rested his arms and head on the railing, biting his lip as the sobs just kept coming. Gasping for air between the sobs, he heard someone calling up to him.

“ Sire there’s a problem with the eastern border, there seems to be a..crack in the wall and things are escaping into our kingdom.” a guard called up. Roman growled and sat up. “Rally the guards, thank you for informing me.” Damn it not now you bastard. He walked downstairs and out the front door. He grabbed his huge shire horse and headed toward the eastern wall. There was indeed a crack a ways into the woods. He drew his sword and cautiously made his way into the forest. Normally he would fear no creature because he himself had created them, so he was never in any real danger, but he could neither predict nor control Remus creations. The worst part was he needed his stupid brother to fix his side of the crack as well or it would just reopen. This meant venturing into Remus kingdom on his side of the imagination.

He waved some of his knights through, but briefly considered getting one of the other sides to go with him but shook his head not wanting to bother them. They got enough of him as it was. He walked though and noticed immediately he was in a swamp. He grimaced at his white suit. He would have conjured a different outfit but he couldn’t conjure on his brothers side, just as Remus could not conjure on his. There were several sounds surrounding them as he and his men made their way though the thick water and mud. Something that sounded suspiciously like a crocodile slide into the water off the muddy bank. It wasn’t until they were making their way though the taller swamp grass, in waist deep water, that he felt something grab his leg and pull him down. He thrashed in the water a moment trying to stab whatever was grabbing him. he finally opened his eyes briefly and saw part of a anaconda sized snake trying to wrap around his body. He managed to slice into the creature with his sword and forced it to retreat. He resurfaced and reached out having one of his men help him up. “Prince Roman! are you alright!?” He nodded coughing and shaking off water. “onward” he coughed.

They made their way to something that looked like a dirt road, still flanked by forests. “Which way is the kingdom?” one of them asked looking down the road. “I think its east, this way” He said starting down that direction. No sooner had they set their pace they encountered a group sitting near the road. They sat on logs around a fire slowly cooking something in a large pot. Laughing and drinking, their clothes were worn and dirty but then so was his now as well. They noticed Roman and walked over smirking. “ well well what do we have here?” one of them asked, showing his gnarled teeth. Roman could smell him from there. Roman’s knights blocked their path guarding him. “You there, do you know the fastest way to get to the castle from here?” he asked holding his head high. jaw set and regal as ever. “Yeah we might know where it is, but we don’t give out information for free you know, what can you give us in return Pretty?” A man with a long beard asked gazing lustfully at the prince. “How dare you speak to him that way he is the crowned Prince” one of his knights snapped, they were moving into defense formation. “How very kind of you to offer, I am flattered, truly, however I am just here to speak to your…ruler for lack of a better word. If you do not wish to assist us, I ask you to let us pass so we may continue on our way.” He said keeping his tone light but commanding. His hand hovered over his swords hilt.

“ooh so proper your majesty” a guy laughed, fake bowing. Roman tried to walk around them but a few more of them blocked their way. “Sorry cutie but we don’t let anyone pass without…giving us something. so what’s it going to be gold or…you?” he grinned reaching out to grab at Romans chin but Roman jerked back and slapped the guys hand away. “You will keep your distance sir. If you will not willingly step aside, we will have no choice but to force you” he snarled drawing his sword. It happened slowly and yet all at once the man drawing his own dagger and running at him. His men jumped into the middle of the battle each choosing an opponent. Roman countered the dagger and made a swipe for the mans torso which he dodged with ease. The man was fast, he was agile but Roman was better. He landed a cut to the mans arm as he man landed a cut across Romans cheek. He gritted his teeth and jumped back wiping the blood off him as he ran toward the man once again. He swung at him this time, faking to the left and catching the man off guard his sword plunged straight into he mans heart. The mans blood spurted all over him and he wiped in vein to get it off his face only smearing it. He dropped and Roman panted catching his breath before putting his sword back in its sheath. “Let us continue” he said to his 2 remaining men. It had been quite a bloody battle. and several bodies were now scattered about.

They trudged up a hill and finally the top of the castle was visible. black brick and gothic architecture with green flags adorning the top. Credit where credit was due, it looked better than the last time he had seen it.

They continued down the road and saw the gates of the kingdom. He walked up to the large doors and called up to the guard. “ you there, open the gate I need to get to the castle.”

The man looked at him and took in his muddy and bloody clothes and face and outright laughed. “ Fall in the swamp did you? be gone peasant.” Roman growled. “Watch your tongue sir, I happen to be a prince!” That made the man laugh harder and call over to his friend “oy get a load of this guy, thinks he is a prince.” he laughed. “Open the gates at once! I must get to your ruler.” he yelled angerly. The men stopped laughing glared at him. “What business have you with Prince Remus!?”

“I am his brother and he needs to come fix his kingdom because it is spilling into mine!” He said rolling his eyes, how hard was it to keep your shit on your side? “be gone imposter! Prince Remus brother has not been here in years. we could chop off your head for telling such lies.” “oy isn’t his brother like also a prissy little primadonna? his hair wouldn’t even be out of place much less his attire.” Roman growled and walked away.

He would have to find his own way in. He walked the perimeter of the castle and found a exposed side. there was a window at the top as well but it was so far up he had to squint to see it. He sighed, how was he supposed to get up there?! He sat down against the cool bricks and ran a hand through his hair. “Sire how are we to-” “I don’t know! I don’t always have all the answers!” he snapped. He wanted to give up and just go home or back to the common room in the mindscape and watch movies with the others, but this was his responsibility and he had to protect his kingdom. Thomas goes to his kingdom when he dreams. If Remus’ influence gets to his side while Thomas is there it might cause him to have night terrors instead of dreams, if he didn’t get the hole patched. Perfect just one more way he can mess up Thomas’ life. he drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, ducking his head.

“Oh you truly are pathetic, stop crying like a little bitch and come and get me.” he heard someone call. He looked up at the tall window again to see Remus leaning out it smirking. “Remus get down here now, there is a hole in the wall and you need to come fix it!” He called up.

“Nah, no fun, tell you what though, you find a way in here and we will talk.” he laughed stepping away from the window. “REMUS!” he yelled but no one came back. He kicked the castle wall and thought for a moment. He headed toward the forest again. It was a long walk but he finally found himself at a cave. He peeked in to see a cauldron bubbling by a stone fireplace and a old woman with scales and horns muttering to herself as she played with her voodoo doll. “Are you the dragon witch of Remus kingdom?” They both had a dragon-witch but his lived in a cottage. Remus’ apparently lived in a mountainside cave. She began to cackle. “ who’s asking?” “me obviously, uh..I am Prince Roman of the Light kingdom. I have come to ask a favor.”

She chuckled and faced him. “You need a favor? what right have you to ask a favor of me? what is in it for me?” she grinned meanly. “what is it you want?” he gulped as she moved closer to him. “You convince Remus to let me live at the palace instead of this place and I will help you.” He barked out a laugh. “My dear I could not convince my brother to put on a jacket in a snow storm, he is just that stubborn.” She shrugged and turned back to her stew. “very well then, you know the way out.” “Wait are you really not going to help me!?” he asked offended. “ I named my price, can you do it or not?” She asked firmly. “He bit his lip hoping he wasn’t lying about this. ”Yes I can, you have my word“ he said firmly. She smirked. “what do you want from me, Light prince?” “get me into the castle so I can see my brother. the castle is locked down.” She smiled and walked to the center of the room as a white light engulfed her transforming her into her full dragon form. “Hop aboard before I change my mind” she sighed. Remus was watching two men fight to the death in front of him as he sat on his throne and sipped something foamy and green from a chalice. Everything stopped when Roman kicked open the door to the large throne room flanked by the dragon witch. “ohh look who finally made it. I was beginning to think you just gave up.” he smirked. “What happened to you, you look worse than you usually do.” “your kingdom happened, you asshat, now come fix the hole in the wall with me so I can go home.” “Now why would you want to do that, seems to me you’ve had more fun over here battling monsters than crying in your ivory tower, all alone, on your side.” Remus smirked. One of the men snickered. “crying? what a pussy” Remus turned a cold gaze to him and kicked a lever by his throne opening a floor under the man and dropping him into a pit. “Just get over here and help me for once in your life!” Roman sighed. The dragon witch cleared her throat and gestured to him. He gritted his teeth mannn he didn’t want to do this. “also uh.. this young lady here has requested a favor. she wishes to stay in the castle instead of um…her cave?” Remus chuckled and sat up a bit more. “really? you are going to burst in here and ask two favors of me and not tack ‘please’ on the end to any of them?” He asked laughing.

“I’ll fight you, swords and if I win, you have to get off your ass and come help me and you have to let her live here with you.” Remus hummed “what if I win?” “what do you want?” Roman asked cautiously. Remus thought about it a bit. “Nerdy Wolverine” he said finally. Roman raised an eyebrow. “what now?” “Logan, If I win I get Logan.” Roman paused and raised his brows. “uhh I have several questions and issues with that 1. Why Logan, I thought you hated him? also I can’t bet you Logan he is another Side also one of my closest friends not an object. And furthermore. oh my god are you in love with Logan?!” he gasped appalled. “Are you jealous? thought you had a thing for our darling little Emo Nightmare?” Remus chuckled. Roman growled a bit. “Virgil is just a friend…and who I like is none of your business. If you want to fight then come down here and do it!” he said drawing his sword.

Remus stood and summoned his own sword since Roman called the terms with swords leaving his morning star by his throne. They began by just encircling each other. One thing he knew about fighting Remus was that he would have to be on his guard, because they were very evenly matched. When the first clash of metal rang out from their swords colliding it felt like the whole castle shook. The fight drew on long, without so much as either of them drawing blood on the other. They knew each others moves so perfectly it was more like watching a dance than a fight.

One wrong step however sent Roman falling to the floor, rolling away from a slashing motion, only for him to drop his sword by accident. Remus kicked it away and Roman got to his feet swiftly making for the other side of the room when a pain shot out of his side as Remus’ sword sliced into him just slightly. He hissed and grabbed a shield from a suit of armor on the side of the room and blocked the next barrage of attacks. He made his way back over and managed to get his sword back in hand, smiling at being back on the offensive. He slashed out making a long cut down his brothers leg. Remus hissed in pain and with his good leg kicked the shield out of Romans hands making slashes at his throat now in earnest. He backed Roman into a corner laughing. Roman cursed when he realized he had nowhere to go.

“ Poor Ro strategy has never been your strong suit has it?” He asked pointing his sword just inches from the Light side. “give?” He asked grinning evilly. Roman was trying to catch his breath when he looked up. He looked so exhausted and given out. Which is why when he suddenly slashed out over Remus, cutting down a tapestry making it fall over the dark side, it was such a surprise. He took the advantage of Remus being blinded to kick his feet out from under him. knocking him down and stepping on his wrist that held the sword. The first thing Remus saw when he finally got the cloth off his face was Roman standing over him with his sword an inch from his face. “Give?” he asked smirking. Remus rolled his eyes. “yeahhh give” he pouted. Roman narrowed his eyes and put his sword away and stepped away from him. They just stood there starring at each other a few moments just catching their breath. “Will you come with me now? I want to get this done before Thomas gets to my side of the imagination.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Thomas is not a child, he can handle a few monsters, honestly why are you all so protective? Its sickening.”

Roman straightened up “because I’m still his Prince and Its my job to protect him, A job I take very seriously and at which I cannot afford to fail.” He said closing his eyes a moment. “well aren’t you just a lovesick puppy.” Remus chuckled. Roman growled “can we move this along?” he asked impatiently willing his blush to go away. Remus rolled his eyes and poofed them back to the hole in the boarder wall.

“oh good swamp water again” Roman sighed looking down. “wow” Remus said simply looking at the cracked wall. “yeah, lets get this fixed.” Roman said stepping back onto his side of the imagination. “You ready?” he asked holding up his hands. “Yeah better get this fixed quick before your date gets here.” Remus smirked. “shut your noise hole” Roman hissed. “well do come visit soon Ro, this is the most excitement we have had in quite some time huh?” he grinned putting his hands up to mirror Romans. Sparks and sparkles began to form between them slowly repairing the wall. “Y-yeah right” Roman said with less sarcasm in his voice than he expected. He hated to admit that he had had fun despite everything. He glanced once more at Remus before the last brick appeared and gave him a tiny smile before the wall was completed.

He heard a call from across a grassy field and turned to see Thomas waving at him. “ Where have you been? I was worried.” he laughed. “are you alright?” he asked wide eyed. Roman looked down at his clothes and blushed before cleaning his outfit and face with one snap of his fingers, ah it was good to be home. Roman grinned. “I assure you I am fine Thomas, just doing some Princely duties, sorry to keep you waiting.” He said walking over. Thomas hugged him “no problem Princey, so what are we doing tonight?” Roman waved a hand and a lighthouse and ocean appeared to the side. the smell of salt filled the air and the sounds of waves started up. “Simple midnight boat ride or pirate adventure?” He asked holding out his hand, which Thomas took, smiling warmly. Remus sat back down on his throne as the Dragon witch began to move her things in. “This here’s my half of the throne room, that’s your half, you remember that and their won’t be no problems here today.” she cackled as she walked by carrying a lamp. Well that was fun but it was nice to have things quiet again…or as close to quiet as they got around here. He sat back on his throne and willed some music to come on the speakers, smiling to himself. Maybe he should break the wall again soon. Someone had to give that stupid brother of his some excitement every now and then.

The End

#sandersides fanfiction #Roman Sanders

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aceofwhump · 5 years

Note

Babe thank you x30000 for recommending SG-1 to me!!!! I watched the first ep and am halfway through the second one and I am in a blissful state. Daniel is such a smol hurt puppy who needs to be cuddled... Do you have any favorite fics with Daniel in them??

You are so very welcome!!! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!! And I couldn’t agree more about Daniel lol. He’s my favorite, my first whumpee, and one of the reasons I got my degree in history. Daniel means the world to me. I love him.

Do I have fic recs? YOU BET YOUR SWEET BIPPY I DO!!!! This got really long so if you don’t mind I’m just gonna post the links. Trust me. They’re all great :D

Don’t Mess With Danny

Bullies and Women Oh the Life of a Geek

Surrogate Father

The Barista (this one is not whumpy but read it anyway okay. it’s the best)

Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines

Don’t Go Away

A Change of Orders

HurtComfort

Counting to Ten

Tumbling Down

The Bridge

Need

Could it be Forever

Drifting on the Wind as Light as a Feather

Fire in the Belly

Trees Are Crying Leaves Into The Darkness

No Evil

The Stuff of Legends

Lost In Translation

The Perfect Recipe

Celebrate Me Home

No Man Left Behind

Beloved

What Dreams May Come

Cocidian

Solitudes Redux

Up Canada Creek Without a Paddle

The Thorn Beast

ALSO I am going to recommend some of the Stargate novels that are super whumpy and SO GOOD:

STARGATE SG-1: Hall of the Two Truths By Susannah Parker Sinard

Summary:

After suffering a brutal attack off-world, each member of SG-1 finds themselves stranded alone in the Ancient Egyptian afterlife — and on a journey through the Book of the Dead.

With reality shifting around them, Colonel O’Neill, Dr. Daniel Jackson, Major Carter and Teal’c must each navigate a treacherous path toward final judgment in the Hall of the Two Truths. On the way, they will be tested to their mental and physical limits by their past mistakes, their greatest fears and their deepest desires…

In this classic SG-1 adventure, the team must dig deep to survive. Their only hope of escape lies in finding each other, but in this place where nothing and no one is what it seems, who do they trust and what do they dare to believe?

STARGATE SG-1: Four Dragons By Diana Dru Botsford

Summary:

It was meant to be a soft mission, something to ease Doctor Daniel Jackson back into things after his time among the Ancients — after all, what could possibly go wrong on a simple survey of ancient Chinese ruins? As it turns out, a whole lot.

After accidentally activating a Goa’uld transport ring, Daniel finds himself the prisoner of Lord Yu, the capricious Goa’uld System Lord. Meanwhile, SG1’s efforts to rescue their friend are hampered by a representative of the Chinese government with an agenda of his own to follow — and a deep secret to hide.

But Colonel Jack O’Neill is in no mood for delay. He’ll go to any lengths to get Daniel back — even if it means ignoring protocol and taking matters into his own hands.

STARGATE SG-1: The Barque of Heaven By Suzanne Wood

Summary:

Millennia ago, at the height of his power, the System Lord Ra decreed that any Goa’uld wishing to serve him must endure a great trial. Victory meant power and prestige, defeat brought banishment and death.

On a routine expedition to an abandoned Goa’uld world, SG-1 inadvertently initiate Ra’s ancient trial – and once begun, the trial cannot be halted. Relying on Dr. Daniel Jackson’s vast wealth of knowledge, Colonel O’Neill must lead his team from planet to planet, completing each task in the allotted time. There is no rest, no respite. To stop means being trapped forever in the farthest reaches of the galaxy, and to fail means death.

Victory is their only option in this terrible test of endurance – an ordeal that will try their will, their ingenuity, and above all their bonds of friendship…

STARGATE SG-1: Siren Song By Holly Scott & Jaimie Duncan

Summary:

Bounty-hunter Aris Boch once more has his sights on SG-1. But this time Boch isn’t interested in trading them for cash. He needs the unique talents of Dr. Daniel Jackson – and he’ll do anything to get them.

Colonel Jack O’Neill and his team are taken to Boch’s ravaged home-world and handed over to the insane Goa’uld, Sebek. Obsessed with opening a mysterious subterranean vault, Sebek demands that Jackson translate the arcane writing on the doors. When Jackson refuses, the Goa’uld resorts to devastating measures to ensure his cooperation.

With the vault exerting an increasingly malign influence, Sebek compels Jackson and O’Neill toward a horror that threatens both their sanity and their lives. Meanwhile, Carter and Teal’c struggle to persuade the starving people of Aris Boch’s world to risk everything they have to save SG-1 – and free their desolate world of the Goa’uld forever.

STARGATE SG-1: Hostile Ground By Sally Malcolm & Laura Harper

Excerpt:

“Teal’c, how far?”

The colonel’s words were clipped, each one bitten off like a curse as he knelt next to Daniel in the mud. Sam couldn’t see what he was doing, didn’t dare take her eyes off the rain-sodden tree line, but she could smell the antiseptic and heard Daniel hiss in a sharp breath.

“We are now less than a kilometer from the Stargate,” Teal’c said. He crouched next to her, staff weapon raised and his arm brushing against hers, making the most of the scant cover they shared – a fallen tree, rotting in the incessant rain. It wouldn’t do much against a staff blast but it was better than nothing. She glanced up at the heavy sky, the clouds hiding a multitude of dangers. If those gliders came back…

Breathing hard, breathing through pain, Daniel said, “I’m okay. I can make it.”

“Damn right you can.” The colonel’s growl made it an order as he ripped open another field dressing. Sam heard Daniel’s shout of pain as the colonel pressed the bandage onto the wound. She didn’t know how badly he was injured, but it had to be serious for the colonel to risk stopping their breakneck flight to the Stargate.

Movement – a fleeting shadow back in the tree line. She wiped rain from her face and eyes, squinting through the curtain of water that slanted across the open ground between SG-1 and the edge of the forest. Yes, there it was again, a glint of gold amid the trees. “Sir,” she said, finger itchy on the trigger, “you might want to hurry that up.”

“What do you think I’m doing, Carter?”

She ignored his sharp tone. “Teal’c, do you see them? Two-o’clock.”

“I do.” He shifted his position, taking aim.

“Sir?” she risked a glance over her shoulder. Daniel was ashen, his jacket torn and dark with blood where the staff blast had hit, just above the hip and below his tac vest. She glimpsed a white compression bandage through the torn fabric. He grimaced as he moved, trying to stand.

The colonel put a restraining hand on his shoulder and looked over at Sam. She knew that look, the flat uncompromising expression that shut everything down. It meant they were in trouble. “Daniel and I are gonna head for the gate,” he said, starting to pack away the med-kit with quick, efficient movements. “You and Teal’c hold them here as long as you can, then come after us.” He stuffed his gear back into his vest and tugged the bill of his cap lower. “Don’t leave it too long, Major.”

She understood. If they were too slow getting back to the gate, there was a real danger they’d be outflanked. “Yes sir. Good luck.”

His only reply was a curt nod before he turned to Daniel. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Daniel said, teeth gritted. “How hard can it be?”

“Attaboy,” the colonel said as he helped Daniel to his feet. “We might have to run.”

Daniel nodded, turning from ashen to milky, but determined as ever. “Let’s go.”

Sam looked away, back to the enemy hiding in the trees, but not before she’d seen the bloom of scarlet on Daniel’s dressing. She swallowed a hard knot of anxiety. It would be difficult enough to make it to the gate carrying a wound like that, let alone with a platoon of Jaffa on their heels.

“The enemy is moving,” Teal’c murmured as several Jaffa emerged from the trees, keeping low as they scanned the scrubby clearing. Sam ducked behind their cover, not wanting to give away their position. “Go now, O’Neill,” Teal’c said softly. “We will cover your retreat and hold this position as long as possible.”

“Counting on it,” the colonel said.

With Daniel’s arm looped over his shoulder, he headed out into the sparse woodland that ran all the way back to the Stargate. Sam winced at their slow, awkward pace. At that rate, they’d never reach the gate before the Jaffa.

A squall of rain blew into her face and she had to turn away, squeezing her eyes shut. When she looked back, Daniel and the colonel were gone, the rain at least helping to hide them from the advancing Jaffa, even if it did make the muddy ground slick and treacherous under foot. Wiping her face on her sleeve, she squirmed around and shivered as a trickle of rain slid down her neck and under her collar. “Daniel’s moving pretty slow,” she whispered, taking a bead on one of the Jaffa and switching her weapon to single shot. “Do you think they’ll make it in time?” Even through the rain, she knew she’d hit her target. But not yet, let them come out a little further from the cover of the trees.

“It is possible,” Teal’c said, “that one of us will need to precede them to the Stargate and hold it against the Jaffa.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, a beat of fear kicking in her chest, “that’s what I figured.”

#theladyoffangorn #whump #stargate sg1 #daniel jackson #mod replies #mod post #mods fic recs #fanfics #fic recs #daniel jackson whump #the king of whump #books #recs

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filthysmile · 4 years

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𝔸 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕪 𝔽𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕄𝕖𝕤𝕤 || Short Drabble.

(Tw; Gore/Blood/Violence/Murder)

Footsteps in the snow, mud caked and soaked through like spray paint on a canvas as he stalked his prey. The poor girl, blood covered and injured head to toe from both knife and broken glass alike. Her breath visible in the raging storm.

Terrified hues of emerald turning to view a dark and tormenting mask that dared her on with it’s haunting smile. She’d never truly been scared of Frank before. But something was different today. Something about him was - OFF.

“Please Frank.. Just. Just let me go.. Hook me. Just get it over with.” She begged him, getting no answer other than a huff that spat into maniacal hyena like laughter. Watching as he cocked his head and pushed her to keep crawling.

He loved this. The rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins harder than any drug he’d tried before. More exhilarating than his first robbery and more entertaining than a knife fight. Her fear. Her pleading. If not for the way it grated upon his ears, he’d think it was music.

“Keep crawling.” He taunted. Stepping forward and raising his sneaker sharply before slamming it down into the small of her back. Earning himself a sharp blood choked scream from the runner he had in his grasp. In normal rounds, he’d have killed her and gotten it over with. But tonight. Tonight he was pissed. Having his own small injuries from getting hit just one too many times with pallets and jabbed in the shoulder with glass by the others.

He sought to take his bottled rage out on them all. Meg, being the last of four to feel the fire of his short burning temper.

Growling unpleasantly, he got sick of the snails pace they took and grabbed her ankle, turning her round’ and dragging her into the lodge as she kicked and shrieked for him to let go. Pulling her across the old rotted boards of the resort as her blood left a trail as brilliant red as fresh paint.

“Shut the fuck up, Don’t you wanna see your fucking friends?” Frank cursed at her, turning round and kicking her before grabbing her by the hair and pulling her up enough to see the entrance of the basement. Ignoring her thick tears as they streamed down her face in worried horror.

“Better watch your step” He teased, pushing her down the basement stairwell and following slowly behind. Watching her tumble and cry out with every heavy thud. Pushing his favored hunting knife into the pockets of his varsity jacket and stomping down the stairs. Walking past her into the expansive room. Bandaged, bloodstained and tattooed hand reaching out to touch gently at the four split hook.

“What’s wrong Meg, you look a little fucking lost.” He asked her, piercing blue hues looking to her through the pinholes of his mask. Her saddened and confused face giving rise to his bloodlust as he crossed his arms and leaned against the large wooden post. He waited for her to notice. To see and realize just what was wrong here.

“You’re a liar.” She snarled, wiping the pained tears from her heavy eyes and mustering what strength she could to hold her ground against him. From all she saw, there was no one here but them and the Entity’s alter. The pungent smell of death and rot filling her nostrils as she grit her teeth. She was used to this horrid stench, the look of death that surrounded her. But as her visibility cleared and her senses took in more than just the feeling of pain, she noticed something was different.

The basement was more... Red and Wet than normal. Eyes scanning the room as she looked up to the dripping ceiling. Horrid ideas entering her mind like a feverish nightmare she choked on her thoughts and stared Frank down in fear and worry for her friends.

“Where are they. WHAT DID YOU DO!?” Meg shrieked at him. Hands hitting the blood soaked cement of the basement with anger and heartache. Only having her rage towards the Legion leader when he answered her with nothing more than a dark and twisted laugh. Watching as he opened his arms and showed off the mess of his work.

“ Whadd’ya mean ‘where are they’? They’re here Meg! A bit of em here, a bit of em there. Honestly, you’d think a looping bitch like yourself would be more thankful i brought you to see them at all. Or.. well, I guess i should fucking say.. what’s left of them.” Approaching her slowly as she tried to back away, he pulled his blade from his pocket and grabbed her ankle. Pulling her back towards him and close enough to raise and force down his hunting knife deep into her chest as hands desperately pushed his face and chest in some feeble attempt to make him stop. But it only fueled him on further as he gripped the hilt with both hands and carved through the soft flesh of her abdomen. Watching with a thrill as the life drained slowly from her eyes as he left her there.

“God you’re a stupid fuckin’ bitch. Can’t believe you actually thought i was tellin’ the truth about your friends. I only hooked their dumbasses.”

#|| Yes. Yes i consider this mess to be SHORT #|| I ALMOST feel bad for meg --for believing him--#(Tw; Gore/Blood/Violence/Murder)#⇢ || 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕤 ;Drabble

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stars-hearts-gems · 4 years

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Into the tall grass! 🌿💕

(Postwick/hpyu/angst/cute/etc...)

Synopsis: Gloria is nursing a crush on her neighbor, friend and fellow Pokemon trainer Hop, and she’s thinking about telling him how she feels. But the pair run into a spot of trouble in the tall grass, and Hop gets injured. Sparks fly when Gloria nurses him back to health.

The heavy air smelled of petrichor as Gloria and Hop left the train station and ran toward Postwick. Thunder rolled as the storm distanced itself from the town dotted with puddles, which the pair dodged and jumped as they headed home, drenched to the skin after a fast and furious rain.

Gloria pushed her damp bangs out of her eyes as she worked her legs hard to keep up with Hop, whose height lent him an advantage on speed. She wore her pink shirtdress and boots for the day’s exploration of the Wild Area, and her bare legs were spattered with mud from dashing across the wet ground.

“Didn’t expect we’d have to leg it home today, or else I’d have worn something a little... better,” she grumbled, conscious of how her short skirt flapped in the wind. “Jeans, I mean.”

Hop looked over his shoulder at her and slowed, realizing how far behind she’d fallen.

“Does this mean I win? Seems like no contest!” crowed Hop.

“We weren’t even racing!” said Gloria, annoyed. “Not everything is a competition, Hop.” The two slowed to a stop near a patch of tall grass, where Gloria bent down to retie the flapping laces of her boots.

"Nearly home,” Hop said bracingly. “Do you want to come over my place tonight? I have that match of Lee’s recorded, we could watch it together!”

These words sent a tingle through Gloria’s body, as if she’d grabbed a bit of metal electrified in the storm. “Yeah, that sounds great,” she said, looking up at him from where she knelt.

“Cool! Mum’s making her veggie lasagna, I know you love that,” Hop replied casually. Gloria straightened up to look at him, a little hopeful he might say something more.

But Hop’s attention was suddenly diverted -- the grass next to them twitched.

“Aw, is that -- ?” Hop breathed. “No way, Gloria, hold on! I thought I saw a Hoothoot -- I’m still missing one of those.” And off he dashed into the grass. Thunder rumbled again as Gloria squinted at the place where Hop had disappeared, the grass flowing smoothly in the breeze.

“Only be a minute!” Hop’s disembodied voice called.

Gloria sighed, waiting. Sometimes Hop would say things that made her think he liked her -- like, he properly fancied her -- but then off he’d run, as if he had felt none of the surge of feelings she just had. Did he just say these things, things that indicated he enjoyed her company and paid attention to her preferences, and not think twice? How thick! Or, an even worse scenario -- was it possible he knew she liked him, yet he acted indifferent because he didn’t feel the same way? Gloria didn’t think she could bear hearing him tell her that painful truth, so she had tried to never let on to Hop that she liked him more than just as a friend. But she also sometimes felt like her heart would explode with longing for him to like her back. Maybe, tonight, she could try...

A sudden yell broke her out of her reverie. It was followed by an even louder cry from a wild Pokemon. A horrible sound, fierce and gutteral -- not at all like the sound of a Hoothoot. A startled flock of Rookidee took flight from the grass.

“Hop? Hop?” Gloria called, peering nervously at the tall grass, but seeing nothing. “Are you alright?” She dashed forward, feverishly pushing aside plant matter. The tall grass grew higher than her head in places, obscuring her way forward, but a flattened trail showed her where Hop had been.

Bursting out of the vegetation, Gloria found herself in a clearing of flattened grass. It had clearly made by something large that had thrashed about before it ran off. Hop leaned against a rocky outcropping to the side of the open area, clutching his arm.

“My God, Gloria, are you okay? It didn’t get you, too?” Hop asked.

“I’m fine! What happened to you?”

“Wild Mamoswine!” exhaled Hop, looking shaken, but excited. “Here! I can’t believe it...”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense! What would a Mamoswine be doing here?”

“No clue! I was about to catch that Hoothoot when it came charging in. It scared off the Hoothoot and next I know it, its coming for me! It was totally cheesed off, just running around the place like mad. I tried to get out of the way, but it got me with a tusk, see...”

He pulled his left hand aside to reveal a long graze from the tusk on his outer right forearm.

“Oh, no!” Gloria moved closer to examine it, carefully taking hold his elbow and moving aside the torn sleeve. Hop winced. “We’ve got to go take care of this,” she said. “No telling what kind of an infection you can get from a Mamoswine tusk. Who knows where they’ve been.”

Hop chuckled softly, shouldering his bag with his natural bravado, though Gloria noticed he was careful to avoid brushing his injury. “What, you don’t think it’d be wise to go after that angry thing?” he said. “You don’t think I could catch it?” Hop rolled his eyes in what was clearly meant to be exasperation, but he was smiling broadly. “Come on, Gloria, have you no faith in me?” Gloria smiled, albeit a little stiffly, at Hop’s lighthearted approach to danger.

“Nah, you know I’m not serious,” he said, noticing her pained expression. “Let’s get out of here. I would love to catch a Mamoswine, but I know when I’m outmatched.”

Gloria led the way out of the clearing and back through the tall grass, Hop following close behind. The two made their way up the road and over the bridge, heading for Hop’s house. The thunder had subsided now, and their clothes were well on their way to being dry. Evening had come, and a few rays from a setting sun had begun to stream through the cloud cover, giving the landscape a weird, ethereal glow.

Gloria glanced over at Hop as they walked, and he shot back a reassuring smile. The feelings she had been contemplating before Hop’s brush with danger had returned, it seemed, tenfold. The way the sun’s rays lit up Postwick like it was their own magic kingdom, the air full of the smell of rain and soil... it was so wonderful. Her throat tightened and her heartbeat quickened as she fought back an urge -- a wild, inappropriate, terrible, wonderful urge -- to reach for Hop’s hand.

“Hey, are you any good at first aid?” Hop asked as they approached his front door, again drawing Gloria’s attention away from her internal battle. “My mum is probably going to go bonkers if she sees this. No, never mind Mum, it’s my Gran who will never let me out of the house again if she knows what happened. Let’s go upstairs first and fix me up, then come down for dinner.”

Gloria agreed, and Hop whipped open the front door. “Hey Mum, it’s me! Gloria’s here too!” he called, running for the stairs and taking them two at a time, Gloria close behind. “We’re just going to wash up, be down for dinner soon!”

They scampered upstairs, past Hop’s grandparents, who were reading in the living room, breathing in the delicious smell of lasagna cooking. Hop’s mom, Moira, had the oven light on and was in a crouch, frowning at the baking dish therein. “15 minutes!” she called back.

Upstairs, Gloria found stick-on bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and cotton balls in the medicine cabinet of the bathroom Hop shared with his brother, Galar Champion Leon. She had him take off his jacket (”Real shame about that sleeve,” Hop said. “I love this jacket.”) and they both sat on the edge of the tub.

Gingerly, she took his arm again and inspected the wound. It had bled pretty profusely on their walk home, and was a little deeper than she had originally estimated out on the route.

“I’m really sorry, but this is going to hurt,” she said, inverting the bottle of hydrogen peroxide over a cotton ball. Hop nodded, “Don’t worry about it, and thanks for helping me,” he said softly. As soon as the peroxide touched his arm, Hop gave a quick intake of breath. But he didn’t pull away. Gloria gently dabbed the disinfectant the length of the cut, and used another cotton ball dampened with water to wipe away the blood. Then, grabbing the box of bandages, she began applying them one by one, whispering “sorry!” each time she accidentally pulled one of his arm hairs, until the entire cut was covered.

Gloria had expected Hop to crack a joke or prattle on about the match of Leon’s they were planning to watch later on while this was happening, but he was quiet as she worked. With the last bandage pressed gently on, Gloria set the box aside and looked up. Their eyes met for a long moment. Hop smiled, suddenly looking awkward. “Thanks, mate, I owe you one,” he said, flexing his arm as if to prove it still functioned. But he didn’t move from the tub’s edge. Gloria found that she couldn’t say anything for a moment. Her heart was in her throat.

“Oh, it was nothing...” she croaked. Still so casual... He doesn’t feel the same way, she thought.

Hop’s eyebrows furrowed into a look of concern. He blinked a couple times. Then, he put his hand on her shoulder. “No, I’m serious,” he said. “Gloria...” Gloria’s heart pounded ever harder, and she breathed in sharply. Hop’s hand moved from her shoulder and paused on her elbow. Then, he moved his hand over hers, which she had resting on her knee. His face wore an uncharacteristically serious expression. Barely daring to breathe, Gloria grasped Hop’s hand. “Gloria, I’ve been wondering,” Hop said quietly, “if you might see me as... ha, I don’t know, this might be silly, but -- if you might see me as... more than just your friend? I mean, not, like, in a weird way, I just, you know, I really like you...and I thought ... well--”

He cut off as Gloria leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was chaste and quick, but not without passion. As she pulled back, Gloria’s brown eyes stayed locked on Hop’s gold ones, and both were grinning in a weird, sideways way. Neither seemed to know quite what to say, but were spared the need to make further conversation by Hop’s mum’s call: dinner was ready.

Gloria and Hop stood up, Gloria giggling a little to herself. A wide smile crossed Hop’s face as he bounded across the room and quickly rummaged in a drawer for another long-sleeve overshirt to hide his healing arm.

Each was still smiling as they headed downstairs to seat themselves at the table. As she dished herself up some lasagna, Gloria hoped none of the grandparents would ask what they were grinning about.

<3 oof, I love them! ❤️

Hope you enjoyed :)

XO, Esme

#pokemon swsh #pokemon hop #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon gloria #pokemon #my writing #swsh #rival hop #postwickshipping

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of-dxnger · 4 years

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ʻ / let me introduce you to a prized member of our mens lacrosse team , nicholas “nick” black . this cis-male aries has been a student at our institution for 3 years and is currently a twenty one year old junior . through the halls , he has always reminded me of maxence danet-fauvel , but there is always more than meets the eye , like the fact that his father has covered up the deaths of two of nick’s friends over the years. coral cape has made their future just as bright as their smile , i assure you . ʼ ( muse #7 , billie , 25 , gmt+10 , she/her )

your friendly neighbourhood nerd, hi. hit me up on discord ( one salty nerd#9483 ) if you want to plot. below are some facts and details about my misunderstood child nick.

~DOSSIER !

Name: Nicholas Xavier Black Nicknames: Nick Age: 21 D.O.B: 13th April Height: 6″1 Degree: Business/Economics Nationality: French-American Languages: English, French Gender: Cis Male Orientation: soooooo bi

~ HISTORY !

TRIGGERS: death, drugs, alcohol.

ʻ / The taste of his power is rotten; leaves left to fester beneath an autumn sky. Emotions like an ensnared animal, vicious, writhing, raw. That is how he grew, a black pit that demanded attention from everyone around him. His ability was to infect those around him, until it consumes everything and leaves only a vacancy for disdain.

His father had been a strong presence in his life, not always a positive one. The two of them butted heads almost every chance they got these days. Arguements about nearly everything, his lack of commitment, not attending mass, fighting, drinking and drugs, his choice of partners, turning up in shirt and jeans rather than a suit. Nothing he did was good enough so he stopped putting in the effort. It didn’t help that his little sister was the apple of his father’s eye. It had been harder growing up with that, constantly in competition, but it hadn’t taken him long to realise that it wasn’t worth it. He didn’t need his fathers approval, she could have him.

He wasn’t a mother’s boy either, but he certainly had a better relationship with her. He felt bad for leaving her in the house all the time with him. It wasn’t that he was violent to anyone in their family, by no means. But there was something corrupting about him, he didn’t want her to become like him. She was too good. She was usually the one that could get him to go against his own interests, a worried look, a pout, heaven forbid tears. Letting her down or breaking her heart wasn’t something he ever wanted to do, that was why he still did well at his studies, he never caused too much of a scene, although that was by his standards, not hers.

ʻ / Look at me walking around, all Black, free and ungrateful. How dare I, skip a “Hallelujah” to tell you the church is on fire.

Church had always been a big part of their family, they’d always been catholics the Blacks, every sunday was a family trip to mass. Neatly kept hair, fresh pressed clothes, polite hand shakes and smiles reserved for those that he was supposed to respect. It was exhausting. He went and did as he was told, sitting there quietly daydreaming, musing to himself. His attendance waxed and waned, but everytime his mother fussed and worried about him, he felt guilty and would go for her. There were many aspects of being catholic that bothered him, but he was more concerned with being himself, it was why he didn’t feel ashamed when he discovered he was into guys as much as girls. His father had given him a warning to not let it ruin his future, Nick had laughed, and clearly ignored him. His father was so hellbent on imagery and what the public thought of their family, but Nick couldn’t care less.

He’d found himself in the cathedral at university twice in his three years there. The first was when he was just in there for the peace and quiet. He may have been a little high, and laying down on the pews with the stained glass windows bathing him in a kaleidoscope of colours was mesmerising. The second was when he’d gotten so stuck in his own head, panicing and re-living past events, a panic attack wrapping its way around his heart, the only place that made sense to him was the church. Strange, but it worked.

ʻ / Prayers whispered on trembled lips; a wish, a hope that he wasn’t beyond redemption. Pressed to his forehead were the rosary beads of a long dead family member that he’d never met.

Seventeen. How does one learn to cope with losing a friend? Losing someone is never a thing that someone should have to go through. It is only made worse by the fact that no one knew what happened exactly. There was a party, being the rich and spoilt kids that they were, there was of course alcohol and someone had drugs even though there wasn’t supposed to be, that was a problem with spoilt kids, they didn’t like rules. Bryce had been drinking a lot and there was supposedly drugs in his system but Nick was sure he hadn’t taken any, everyone knew him and everyone had talked to him or interacted with him to some degree, so there was an easy to follow timeline. Up until Bryce died. Supposedly falling down the stairs, a nasty wound on his head. But it never sat right with most of the peoeple that really knew him. Friendships dissolved, suspicions tore people apart but the world moved on. What Nick didn’t know was that his father had helped keep the story from reaching the media, had kept certain aspects of the case quiet. He’d never been overly religious, but after this his faith began to falter, he hadn’t properly attended church in a few years, but now he almost felt ashamed to.

Nineteen. He and his lover at the time, Tobias, were perched at the top of a building, not that high. But high enough. Legs swaying in the breeze as they looked over a city that he would one day rule. They’d been up there to talk, somewhere private, yet calming. Nick was calling things off. After sitting there so long in silence, the boredom and finality in his voice was abbrasive even to himself. Tobias hadn’t taken it too badly, obviously there was emotion and as he went to stand up off the ledge and leave, he’d slipped and was dangling from the roof of the building. Nicks fingers gripped so hard at his jacket and wrist, wishing that he had more upper body strength, or the will to lift up other. But after what felt like forever, there was an emptiness in his hands, followed quickly by the disfugred body below. The first thing he did was call his father, call it intuition, or perhaps because he knew deep down that his father wasn’t above dealing with such things. It had taken him so long after that to trust himself to let anyone in, he’d tried rationaising with himself that it was an accident, but it had taken so long for him to truly believe it, there were still times when he didn’t think it was. He’d let go. He never went back to church after that. Occassionally walking by it and considering it, his rosary beads still hung in his room, not quite ready to get rid of them compeltely, but he felt damaged, damned even.

Was he due for another death? After all, things came in threes and he was twenty one now.

ʻ / Trust given without being earned loses meaning; a rotten power he inherited from his father. He tastes it in the smiles of his lovers and the glances of his classmates, in the teachers who congratulate his achievements, and the friends who invite him to party after party. He is wanted and praised, yet not loved.

It was his last name, his family. It opened so many doors, a situation he was willing to take advantage of when the time called for it, but it also meant that a lot of people that tried to ingratiate themselves in his life, were fake. There only to get in good with the family and make their own opportunities. It was bareable at a young age, even invisible. But as he grew it became more obvious and more exhausting to deal with. To the point where he tries to hold off on people finding out he is a Black.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be part of his family. But sometimes the name came with too much baggage. Some his own, some his siblings or parents. But the reverse of his wanting to stop people trying to use him for what his family could give them was to fiercly protect what was his. His friends, his loved ones, those that he truly cared about... there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them. He’d crossed a boundary once before for a friend and it didn’t bother him as much as it should have. But that’s who he was in his core, protective of his own, once again much like his father. It was infuriating how much of his father he saw in himself when he looked in the mirror.

ʻ / Calloused fingers tracing his bloodstained lips – only to have it wipe away. Shrill screeches of the final whistle, they’d won again. Smug grins were worn that could rival the devils. Yes, they had a reputation for being a rougher team, but it just meant they did whatever it took to win. The blood clinging to net of his crosse, lightly spattering his lips only confirmed this.

Lacrosse had been an exceptional distraction when he’d first started playing for the university during his first year. But it became a rather delightful way to channel his anger and frustration while using his smarts to play tactics. His father told him he should have gone into something stronger, but that was part of the allure of lacrosse, the rebellion. Nick was able to have something that was truly his that his father couldn’t ruin. At least not yet. It was almost a ritual of his to step off the field and smoke a joint before hitting the showers. Something to help mellow him out a little before his shoes hit the flagstones of the university.

Getting his hands dirty wasn’t something he was afraid of, there were plenty at the university that focused on nothing more than books, looking down their noses at sports. Hard work and getting down in the mud were things he guessed he’d picked up from his father, but he knew that his fathers penchant for getting his hands dirty had grown into something more twisted and sinister since he’d left university. It would not be the path that he walked.

~ TL;DR !

From a catholic family.

Has daddy issues.

Sees too much of his father in him (and hates it).

Knows someone who knows someone. Has used drugs. Only shares his stash with a select few.

Likes to be the centre of attention, usually not in a good way.

Antagonistic.

Will start an argument/fight because he is bored.

Is remarkably intelligent.

He finds everyone attractive, super bi, used to feel bad about it, doesn’t care anymore.

May or may not be responsible for someones death.

Lowkey thinks his soul is damned.

~ CONNECTIONS !

( plots are open to anyone and everyone regardless of gender ^_^ )

~~ THE RIDE OR DIE ;; someone who has become increasingly close with nick, they share almost everything with one another, inseperable is a word to describe them, but not so clingy. { OPEN! }

~~ THICK AS THIEVES ;; friends, cause who doesn’t need friends. he’s never really had many close friends. { OPEN! }

~~ THE TEMPTATION ;; someone that acts as a corrupting/distracting influence. { OPEN! }

~~ THE FORBIDDEN TASTE ;; a relationship kept on the down low due to whatever reason, someone he is attracted to. { OPEN! }

~~ THE GIRL NEXT DOOR ;; living next door or down the hall from one another, they could hang out, maybe not? do they get along or merely tolerate one another? { OPEN! }

~~ THE LOVER ;; someone he has been seeing, this is not only about the physical, but the attraction of personalities. neither has taken the initiative to ask themselves if this could be something more. { OPEN! }

~~ THE SAINT ;; a friend or just someone who looks out for nick and often acts as a conscience or moral compass to him, or rather they try to. { OPEN! }

~~ THE EX ;; whether it was a one night stand, a small fling or something more serious, things were broken off for whatever reasons (plots). this could have been a mutual agreement or ended on bad terms. { OPEN! }

~~ THE THORN IN THE SIDE ;; not quite enemies or rivals, but someone that bothers him, or gets under his skin easily. { OPEN! }

~~ THE RIVAL ;; someone that he has a rivalry with, both equally matched, and the tension can be caused by anything, mutual friends, lovers, goals etc { OPEN! }

playlist

anyways that’s my boy, i’m terrible at these so please feel free to message me with any and all plots ^_^

#about #connections #nick #capecoral:intro

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honestlyfrance · 4 years

Text

Title: Music on the Eve

Square Filled: Free Space

Warnings: Slight cursing

Summary: New Year’s Eve party, and Sam stumbles upon Bucky alone.

—

Bucky Barnes has this extensive and flexible music taste as he hoards every genre into his song list. Tony Stark pays for his Spotify, Pepper Potts and he shares iTunes, and Steve Rogers shares his vinyl records. You can count on him already hearing a song you’ve just heard yesterday on your YouTube recommendations, and you can expect him to have a dance matched to it; Yes, Barnes knows how to appreciate music as much as you would like to think, and he’s expected to bring more to the table as the New Year comes by.

Nine more hours until Stark’s fireworks display, and nine more hours until the Avengers would be screaming until their throats burn out. Sam thinks. Shame on Carol Danvers for suggesting that. He likes the idea though, creating noise. It’s music for him.

Everyone was preparing for Tony Stark’s get-together at his Lakehouse, exclusive only for the Avengers and friends. Sam Wilson was assigned for drinks, and he’s brought as much alcohol as his car can take ( some six cases in the trunk and Natasha Romanoff assures him that she can arrange ten more cases into his car and carry five bottles of aged wine on her lap in the passenger seat ). When everyone heard that Natasha was helping him, they’ve placed bets on how much they’re bringing; the highest bet was twenty cases or so; the two swore to beat that.

Natasha had attached a wagon at the back of his car and at least ten cases sat there ( even then, Sam had told Thor to bring his Asgardian mead and was more than happy to oblige ). The four had also decided to play a scam; Barnes would come early with Steve Rogers ( who were assigned with pool stuff, especially Steve’s vast water guns; where he got them, no one knows ) and then placed a late bet of three hundred euros that at least thirty cases or so would arrive; Sam and Natasha would have sixteen cases plus ten which would be twenty-six, and Barnes would bring four cases of vodka which Natasha would sneak in with to claim it as hers. Steve wouldn’t know, and if he did, “Sam told Buck to hold it for him during the drive since the car was too full.” Fuck yeah, it’s foolproof! and if Tony doesn’t want to lose thirty grand, Thor wouldn’t give his mead to anyone but the super-soldiers, i.e. Steve, Natasha, and Barnes.

“You wearing that?” Natasha asked Sam as he entered the driver’s seat. Her eyebrows were raised as her lips twitched into a comfortable smile. “Looks good on you. Never saw a man pull off that look like you do. Only, like—several.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Have you looked at a mirror recently? ‘Cause you look great. Seen it on a mannequin before, but it looks great.”

Sam wore the same suit he wore in one of his interviews as Captain America, the velvet three-piece tuxedo, wherein ( in favor of Bucky’s suggestion right after wearing it for the first time ) he got rid of the maroon tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons, got rid of the silk jacket in favor of some random latte coffee-colored coat that seemed too big for him but looked too good on him to take off, leaving the white button-up and rolled it to his elbows, he also left the velvet pantsuit, he exchanged his loafers for his brown boots, and he seemed all set for the party. He wasn’t exactly the fashion kind, but he had the sense to pull off the attire to the best of his abilities.

Natasha wore a white off-shoulder top and a maroon skirt that reached past her knees. It was a new look Sam saw her wear, more her. Her heeled boots matched his, and she had a velvet plaid scarf around her neck in some intricate braid as well as yellow-tinted sunglasses. Her fiery hair with platinum blonde highlights was pulled into a braid that wrapped around her head that fell into a low bun. She had her dark brown coat wrapped around several bottles of wine—at least seven. She, on the other hand, had a sense of style among them, and she never failed once ( unless her cover called for bad outfits ).

They looked like they were planning on matching, and at that, they laughed heartily until they were gasping.

“Here—little something to pop that color on you.” Natasha removed her scarf around her neck and placed it lazily around Sam’s neck. It did bring out the purple on his suit, and Sam shook his head in amusement at that.

That was some time then. It’s six-hour hours until New Year’s Eve when they arrived.

They were greeted by the Stark family, little Morgan more than enthusiastic as she blew on her colorful horn in greeting on the doorstep. They were then helped by Happy Hogan in placing the cases inside that joined Barnes’s contribution, and they’ve reached thirty or so cases of alcohol ( Steve collected the betting money from everyone and was happy that he was entering the New Year with something in his pocket ). The cases were cracked opened almost immediately once the Asgardians came ( even Bruce had his early share, surprisingly) and three cases were already used. By then when the Guardians came, the party was in full swing.

Sam had a glass in his hand as he walked down the hallway leading to the backyard with Maria Rambeau on his left and Pepper Potts on his right. Rambeau had been talking enthusiastically about some mission she recently has done with Fury while Pepper shared her ridiculous shenanigans with the Avengers just as enthusiastically. Sam would converse about the ridiculous things he’s done for Steve but — he was distracted.

Before they both separated at the doorway, she whispered something to Sam, and Natasha was right: “Bucky was serving looks Tony couldn’t whip out.”

Bucky stood in front of the crowd on a table with Natasha on his arm, laughing and hollering about some story Sam couldn’t bear to hear over the loud drumming music that Peter Quill burdened to play. Something that definitely should’ve buried itself in the sixties. Bucky wore a mustard v-neck sweater and black jeans that clung onto him—fucking cuffed too. He wore his favorite brown boots, caked with mud he couldn’t wash off. He wore a mocha-colored velvet jacket folded to his elbows in which showed the latte color inside of the jacket. He had on those ridiculous gloves Sam dared him to wear as a joke, and the fact Bucky went through it made him laugh.

Bucky saw him and showed him his best attempt at jazz hands, cutting himself off to show the black motorcycle gloves with the stupid Captain America logos on them, turning to the crowd as Natasha continued the lively conversation for him.

“I didn’t know Bucky knew to dress,” Rambeau said.

Pepper sighed. “Tony begged me to let him approach Barnes to ask.“

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You still told him to keep his distance?"

Pepper shrugged, a glint in her eye as they stood on the porch. "No. But he has promised to keep his hands to himself about the arm."

Sam hummed as his eyes settled back on Bucky, and it almost seemed ephemeral. Sam almost felt overdressed—Tony had a full-fledged suit, but that didn’t matter. Bucky looks like himself, with his cut hair and beard; sporting clothes Sam knew to be the real him, Bucky was enthusiastic and at the same time was his quiet self.

After a few drinks and more chattering, the party was ready to hit the New Year: everyone had a drink in their hand, some even had grabbed a bottle for themselves ( the vodka was that good ); there had almost been a fight ( Clint Barton couldn’t bear seeing the thirty or so cases, and even argued that Bucky shouldn’t even have bet at the last minute ); Tony had generously awarded several people as Best Dressed, Sam included with five other people ( Natasha, Bucky, Pepper, Rhodey, and Hope Van Dyne took the cake ); and the crowd dissipated into several places—the car park where there was a movie going on, near the lake where most of the girls were sharing two cases of beer on the grass, the gazebo swarming with people around a pool table, some guys on the deck seeing who can throw the farthest rock, and some went inside to listen to the early century music playing ( more of jumping between Bach and Louis Armstrong while Natasha shows people how to drink like a Russian ).

Sam wanted quiet. That’s what he was searching for.

Sam placed his glass on the edge of the pool table and let Rhodey take over him. Wiping the corner of his lips as he took off his coat, Sam greeted some more people as he made his way inside.

Inside, he fixed his collar as he heard some quiet laughter by Maria Hill, Natasha, and Rambeau. Natasha motioned for the stairs, and what overcome Sam to follow her instructions baffled him and scrutinized him. He went up the stairs, and it was almost empty except for the lounge area where all of the teenagers were playing their music from the small speaker Harley Keener brought.

Michelle "MJ” Jones thumbed towards down the hallway, towards where the driveway situated and spoke no further. Sam followed—Why he was following subtle blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moments from these people, he did not know.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck as he ended up at the end of the hallway; he tried every door he passed him but they were locked. At the end of the hallway was a window doorway hidden by a curtain, and Sam pushed the door and was immediately greeted by Fly Me to the Moon by Frank Sinatra faintly played in the background. He closed the doorway and saw Bucky in the far corner on the armrest of the love seat there reading a book, biting on his flesh thumb as his legs splayed out beneath him. The moonlight and lamp beside Bucky served as his light, and the sudden chill of the night breeze urged Sam to rest his coat on his shoulders.

Bucky didn’t notice Sam, being too indulged in his book to bother to look up—but Bucky knew someone was with him; he heard the creak of the doorway and the footsteps that lingered on the other side.

Sam leaned against the railing as he looked out on the dirt path that faded into the front yard of the house where five cars parked, and if Sam turned to the extension of the balcony on the other side of the building, he would be able to see from above the current drive-in-movie happening.

“You got a nice birds-eye-view there?” Bucky calls out, not looking up from his page.

Sam turns around and grins at the joke, sauntering over to him and sitting at the far end of the red loveseat, throwing the throw pillow at Bucky who caught it. “There’s the light of the party. What? Are the War Machine stories not good enough? Said you’d love it,” Sam said. Bucky sat on the seat now, his feet against the wall as his legs rested on Sam’s lap; with a growing grin he suppressed with his teeth, he continued to read his book, his face suddenly lighting up with The Look.

“No, I love them…” Bucky turns to the next page; he held a paperback novel in his hands, too invested in the middle of the thick story to keep up with the conversation. His eyes were digesting vivid construction, all playing well into his imagination. “He’s funny, really is. I can see them… so vividly.”

“Are we talking about Rhodey or your book? What’s the title?”

Bucky stopped and his eyes peeled out from the book, and Sam could see his blue eyes glint with amusement and thrill. Bucky resigned to show the cover of the book as he draped an arm over his forehead theatrically, Sam smirking as he read The Da Vinci Code and Dan Brown on the worn-out cover covered with plastic.

“Have you read such a masterpiece?” Bucky said, his eyes closing as his companion laughed as he took the book away from him. Sam read the page he was on, and saw the familiar scenes, ingesting them as if he was in the book too.

“I’ve watched it, barely remembering it used to be a book,” Sam saw the exaggerated look of betrayal on Bucky’s face as the man took back the book, burying it even more to his face, mostly to avoid attention to his expressions. Bucky was growing into showing more unwanted emotions and was aware of the fact.

“We gotta watch it together,” Bucky whined, his voice muffled. “Langdon’s amazing. So is Sophie. So is fucking Dan Brown.”

Sam shook his head as he fell into a burst of easy laughter. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

The air settled down into a comfortable silence, with Frank Sinatra playing in the background, and Sam was still trying to figure out where it was. Some pop music was playing behind the wall, and the faint Jazz piano played from below, but Frank Sinatra was a stubborn bitch and ended up taking over Sam’s ears.

After long deliberation, Sam asked: “Where the fuck is that coming from?"

Bucky said, "What?”

“Frank Sinatra. Where is it?”

Bucky, without looking up from his book, raised the red speaker from the floor and onto his stomach, the faraway voice of Frank Sinatra played at a low volume with a few pitter-patter of rain in the background. Bucky raised the volume from his phone and continued to read, his eyebrows knitted in commitment.

Sam chuckled. “That’s cute.” He mumbles.

“Hmm… cuter,” Bucky murmured, covering his face with the book as he slides downwards into the love seat, half his body on Sam as the other man set his arm across the couch and the other arm on Bucky’s leg.

“What was that?”

“Hmm… seen cuter,” Bucky grumbled.

Sam shakes his head, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back, listening intently to the rain background on the song edit. He knew better than to realize it was an edited loop, at least an hour.

Bucky turned his body away from Sam as he rested his chin on the railing, sitting upright; Bucky had his eyes widened as he read the next few lines, but not only that, his chest tightened and he felt his blood rise to his cheeks. Did he call me cute? Fuck, did he? He couldn’t seem to turn the page, and however many times he read the page over and over again, he couldn’t understand it; all he could read was Sam Wilson.

Bucky knew that Sam still had his head leaned back and that only made Bucky tenser than before.

“What,” Bucky heard Sam say. “Getting into it?”

Bucky saw Sam enter the party and knew he was doomed from the start. Bucky started drinking so much, and he had drunk five bottles of beer within the first hour with Valkyrie, or Brunnhilde as he was allowed to call her, grateful that no one had the right mind or acknowledgment that he was a super-soldier, so everyone ultimately never knew that he couldn’t get drunk. Bucky then excused his blushing over his supposed drunkenness instead of seeing Sam in his ( Bucky’s ) coat and the collarbone he showed off. And was that the scarf that he gifted Natasha with? That bitch.

Bucky hummed. “Pretty fucking intense.”

“Tell me about it."

Bucky could feel his heart in his throat, almost choking him as all the heat gathered on his face, and he knew he didn’t need a mirror to know he was red.

Bucky grabbed his beer bottle and sipped at it, and not wanting to turn, Sam had brought the cushioned chair from below the table and brought it across Bucky, sitting on it; Sam propped up an elbow and rested his cheek against his palm, raising an eyebrow as he gave Bucky a patient look.

Bucky hid behind his book, quietly whining to himself.

Sam lowered down the book with his finger, revealing the blue eyes that lingered onto the words inked into a page, and the flustered skin of Bucky Barnes; as far as Sam was concerned, there was no part in the book that could make Bucky this embarrassed. Maybe me, Sam thinks, but that seems too farfetched to consider.

"I love it so much, you don’t understand,” Bucky murmurs, his eyes still on the book as it rests too near his lips. Sam hasn’t lifted his hand off of the book, and he doesn’t plan for it so soon. “The pacing and clues and everything. His cleverness—” Bucky’s eyes met brown ones. “—it’s something.”

Sam tilts his head, smiling. Damn that smile. “That character really is something.”

Bucky hums, not leaving his eyes. “He is, ain’t he…"

"Who are we talking about…”

“Take a wild guess—it’s not the professor anymore…”

Sam chuckles, still not looking away. “So, edited songs? Never should surprise me, but… it did.”

Bucky snorted, looks away only to meet eye contact again. “Why would it surprise you so much? You’ve known me so well I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew."

Sam’s lips parted. "Knew what?"

Bucky dog eared his page and placed it on the flat surface of the railing, burying his lips into his wrist as he looked away for a complete moment; for a moment, Sam saw his cheeks flare. "That…” Bucky scratched his head, avoiding eye contact. “I… can’t get… drunk?” Bucky raises a hand and an eyebrow; the two sharing a short laugh. “No—that, I, too, am a super-soldier."

"I knew that.”

Bucky stops himself, burying his lips into his fist as he closed his eyes. “Fuck, What don’t you know about me?”

Sam sighed, leaning back, looking out toward the horizon. “Well, shit, I don’t know, Your New Year’s resolution?” He said, looking back at him coolly. “Tell me all about it.”

Bucky stares at him, looking something past Sam’s irises in search of something malleable, something tangible. “I want to stay like this,” he tells Sam, and he’s so sure of it. “I want this to be… anything stable… and agreeable."

Sam searches for the same thing Bucky searched in his eyes— something agreeable, something that says, Here. This. This is where we are, where we agree, where we stay. And so Sam says: "No one’s calling for us. What else do you want?”

“Hmm…"

Frank Sinatra plays in the background, and Bucky replays the one hour loop as they stayed still, afraid to ruin the constant they wanted to bring to the next year; they both feared the worst, but who was able to take this away from them? A villain? Another Avengers Fallout? The other? No. Sam and Bucky were so good for each other that they’d have to be joking to leave the other behind.

"Go with me,” Sam says as he searches for some sort of resistance from the other man.

Bucky laughs at some distant memory. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. “in exchange for everything you’ve done for me, I got your six, your twelve, your nine, your everything."

"You have nothing to exchange.”

“Don’t think of it as a favor. Think of it—Think of it as my…"

Sam said, "What?”

Bucky shrugged. “Partnership. Compassion. Love?” His face contorts into something that was convincing itself that he did hear what he did say.

Sam chuckles as he breathes in, hearing the faint bellowing countdown of the people in the far distance, but Frank Sinatra is a stubborn bitch and he’s all Sam and Bucky could hear as the mimicked sounds of gunfire echoed in the inky atmosphere, and in the far distance, if they craned their necks at the right angle, they could see the winking flames of different colored fireworks in the distance over at the other side of the lake. The sounds of fireworks sound too much like bullets firing, but they were too deep into this to be afraid anymore.

Sam sighs. “I like the sound of that."

They don’t share a kiss, although they both knew what the other wanted to bring onto the table as they entered the new year: Music, one that consisted of both of their drumming hearts as they beat against their ribs, aching for release. Music, one they shared, one that their voices will drum together to say, I love you, as always.

#sbbingo1 #sambucky #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #happy new year guys #france: works #france: writing

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reddogf13 · 4 years

Text

Escape: To Salvation Ch: 16

Blake X Val

Summery: Blake wakes up in the hell town known as Templegate. confused and alone he must fight through both his past and present for his future. however, hallucinations of festering demons haunt him along with something else more of mortal blood. now he must fight to keep his nightmares and reality separate or succumb to the deadly wilds. however is he truly as alone as he feels in this world?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language, sensitive topics, and gore

previous chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:15

next chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:17

_____________________________________

~Ch:16 Deliverance~

“WHAT?!” Blake exclaimed, having it echo back he was so loud. almost choking on his own spit he was halfway through swallowing. “what did you say?!” he shouted out of shock. “i love you.” she repeated, turning to face him. Keeping a calm expression about her. “don't say that! Don't you dare say that!” he yelled with anger building deep inside. “I can't ignore it.” she spoke of the matter casually. “what, why, when?? when did this thought come up?!” Blake blurted out his questions in a scrambled form of thought. His mind racing at the shock of the matter. “ I first felt something when you became sick. It grew from there despite not wanting it to. I only accepted it last night.” she explained. “ well fuckin gee, isint that great for you?!” Blake exclaimed in anger. “you shouldn't - I didn't - “ he started differently each time. His own mind stopping his words. He really didn't want to know, but did for possible safety over his well being. Same reason why he'd rather she never told him this, but did. “I'm sorry.” she apologized with a breath of air. “you're sorry?! Fuck off your sorry!” he shouted. “are you also sorry for everything you put me through?! Kidnapping my girlfriend to do who knows what?! After you strangled her unconscious! Then, when I come, you have me almost killed by your “loves”. Chased me through tunnel after tunnel with corpses! The mud, the water, remember that whole fucking thing?! Then the end with more of that fucking powder! I sure fucking do, every painful moment of it!” he roared with tears building up. “next you're going to tell me, that forcing yourself on me was showing your love too, right?! I sure as hell didn't love it! I should fucking leave, this whole thing was a mistake! I could have been just as fine on my damn own!” he continued. Wiping away all of his tears at the end. Taking deep breaths to get his asthma under control after all that yelling. Val was silent as she watched Blake. Honestly not wanting to interrupt his angered yelling at her. She looked to the floor for a moment in thought on what to say. “i thought you'd be happy. … with it all.” she said quietly. “you thought I'd be happy?! Happy from what?! That you forced me into an orgy after almost killing me?! What part of any of that sounded good?!” he shouted again toward her. Eyes remaining watery as he held more tears. Val paused again for a moment. “ … I don't know.” she spoke, honesty coming through in her voice. “you don't know?! How could you possibly not know?! Is it because you ignored it all?!” he snapped. “no ...” she spoke again. “what exactly don't you know then?!” he snapped again. “ … a lot of things.” she answered. After getting a confused look from Blake she tried to explain better. “ I … remember doing those things … but I didn't like how far it went. Some things I liked, while other things I don't understand why I liked them so much. … it felt like I was someplace else while it all happened. I wanted it all to stop deep down, but it kept getting worse. Pain that was closely followed by burning lust. Horrific dreams that haunted my sleep. Finding myself deep in the mines without most my memory's when I went out. Its like I was slowly being buried underneath it all. Over time it got harder to see what was going on. Trying to tell what was a dream or real. Some parts twist every time I try remembering or smear into a blur. The few parts I do remember was after things would calm. Before the horns and the lights blinded everyone again. I felt relief when the darkness came. … then I woke up.” she explained to him. “i panicked at the thought of what I was going to do. I just laid there ... near a pile of rocks with crushed bodies underneath. Thinking any moment it would all go away again, but it didn't. ... Eventually I got up, finally feeling like I was in my body after so long.” she ended. Swallowing at the end with difficulty. Blake remembered his times going through the “school” following Jessica. How many times he felt yanked from his body. Falling back into it with no idea where or how he got someplace. It was an unnerving experience for anyone to feel. “when did you start to feel disconnected?” he asked. “ … when my kids ...” she swallowed. having some obvious trouble answering. “ … please don't leave.” she begged softly. Blake swallowed nervously at what she said. Thoughts rushing through his paranoid mind. Is she telling the truth? How would this journey work out now? Should he stay? He took a deep nervous breath. ... “no.” he breathed. Val looked away with a painful swallow. His answer was clear, he was leaving like he said. The two standing without anymore words for each other. Blake looked to the ground for a moment to gather his voice. “i can give you half the smoked meat … before I go.” he offered. Not wanting to just abandon her with nothing after dragging her so far along. “no, you'll need it more in the canyon. I can catch more deep in the mountain forests.” she refused with a shake of her head. “ … bye.” he said, ending it all with that final word. He left with the jacket hung around a shoulder, the gun slung over the other. Letting out a few deep calming breaths when wiping away the building tears in his eyes. Far away from where they separated Blake was trying his hardest to get over the situation. Kicking rocks angrily into the water. Picking up a few heavy rocks with both hands to chuck far away into the brush. “god why does it have to be this way?!” he growled in his head. “can't anything go fucking good for me?!” he angrily mumbled. “WHY DID YOU LET ALL THIS HAPPEN?! DO YOU HATE HUMANITY SO MUCH?! DO YOU HATE ME?! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!” he roared at the sky to a god he didn't expect to answer. “deliverance, what a fucking joke!” he said to the sky. “i bet after all that walking in the desert only to be rejected at the doorstep of salvation. had many wanting Moses to be eaten by crocodiles.” he thought bitterly, not caring if he upset any god up above. “the only thing i'm late for is a bed at a warm hotel with a burger.” he grumbled, kicking more rocks into the river, away from his path. Feeling the burning fire of anger slowly die inside of him. “i've made my choice. I am happy with it.” he told himself. A knot forming in his stomach the further he stepped. “then why am I not happy?” he mumbled. “just a fact of life I have to get used to.” he thought bitterly again. His thoughts dyeing as he focused on the crunching gravel below his feet. Looking toward the growing orange sky as the sun slowly rose over the mountainous terrain. Lighting the tops of trees to resemble a shifting fire across the land. His eyes shooting across the land of something glinting on the horizon. That horrible chopping noise of blades flying on the wind. The large black helicopter appearing from the blinding orange sky. The helicopter heading his way forcing Blake to start running. Remembering the last time he got away from the copter was to bury himself into the cold. Dropping his water sensitive things, he leapt into the morning cold water of the river. Completely submerging himself for a few minutes. Hearing the chopper hovering close above. It stayed around for only a moment before flying off down the river. Blake coming out of the water for a gasp of air. letting out a sigh of relief at the sight. A sudden nervous thought jumped into his mind. The helicopter was heading off in the direction of Val. He swam back to shore, making a sprint to follow it. Blake breaking out in a run as he saw how far off the helicopter was getting ahead. Attempting to run even faster when he heard the sound of a machine gun roaring up to speed. Blakes wheezing forcing him to slow against his will. Only able to watch the helicopter disappear from view past the tree tops. He wheezed as his body threatened to collapse a lung. The sounds of the helicopter going quiet bringing up some hope that it had flown past to the canyon. He hurried through the trees, not noticing one important detail in his hurry. A large fist coming out to slam into Blakes face. Knocking him back to the ground in pain. Getting roughly yanked back up. Feeling the jacket and gun yanked off of him along with the bag of food, medical supplies, and knoths journal. Before he could get out a word of protest he was punched in the gut. Shoved to the ground again to be kicked in the ribs. Having his already terrible breathing grow worse. Again being yanked up to his feet to be shoved forward. Surrounded by a heavily armed group of men. “quit dragging your feet and move!” wicker shouted down before shoving Blake into the open. The man adjusting his loose jaw with one hand. Throwing Blake against another wall of heavily armed men. They quickly got a hold of Blake with a firm painful grip. Feeling another painful punch to the gut when he tried struggling free. All Blake could do was flinch or curl into himself in an attempt to protect his body. Fearfully shaking as he wondered what was going to happen. He stayed frozen to just regain some of himself. Figuring out what was really broken after all the hits thrown. Watching blood drip from his face to puddle at the dirt floor. “pretty stupid of you two. That whole canyon was a easy funnel set up. Only two exits we had to wait around. Easy catch.” wicker mocked with a crooked grin. Shifting his jaw back and forth as his grin dropped into an annoyed frown. Looking off toward a group of men nearby surrounding Val. All of them making some sort of mocking joke. Some of them being highly sexual. “come on girly can't you smile at all?” one of them teased as Val gave him a cold glare. Standing confidently tall despite her position. Slowly leaning back as the man went to touch her face. “just give us a smile and we won't-” the man spoke with a smile before regrettably touching Vals bottom jaw. In a flash with a loud snap he was screaming in pain with Vals jaws covered in blood. The man's hand pouring blood all over the dirt as he fell down in agony. Val turning her head to spit out two fingers and a mouth full of collected blood. The two appendages going far enough to go off the cliff edge, never to be found for reattachment. “she fucking bit me!!” the soldier yelled in pain. “what did you expect you moron. Don't mess with it. That's the genetic freak 2nd red marker.” wicker growled with gritted teeth. The other men who swarmed immediately losing interest after the information. “can't have you messing anymore shit up during transport.” he frowned as he approached Val with a knife. “hey!” Blake shouted, yanking forward to try stopping whatever he was about to do. Quickly shutting down with a punch to the head. Vals body tensing for whatever wicker was going to do. Collapsing when he stabbed into her stitched side. Shredding up while being sure to cut every stitch Blake worked so hard to make. “it's all over. Get it onto the helicopter so we can move. Let it bleed out, doesn't matter if it lives.” wicker commanded as he waved off the soldiers restraining Val. Yanking her along as blood pooled from her side. “don't.” Blake spoke out barely above a whisper as his head stopped spinning after the punch. “release him, I want him to regret hitting me earlier. Let his name go down as an example over that traitor employee from mount massive.” wicker spoke with a shift of his jaw. Blake being shoved out to the middle of a fighting ring of guards to challenge wicker. Landing painfully into the bloody dirt. “get up!!” wicker snapped, coming for Blake who had nowhere to go. When he refused to move wicker yanked him up by his shirt. Only to beat him back down into the dirt. Guards cheering and hollering as Blake was beat down without a punch coming from him. After what seemed like forever Blake panicked at this being his final moments. Wheezing breaths coming out over the heavy taste of blood. His body wracked with pain he was sure so many things were broken. If he was going to die he could at least get one satisfaction out of it. Yanked to his feet once again by a grinning wicker having fun. Before he could get another satisfying punch on Blake, he got a hard punch instead. A snapping noise sounding off as wickers mask was broken. Falling to the dirt in pieces. The cheering soldiers going deathly quiet. Wicker shooting dagger eyes at Blake when he felt his mask missing. A massively scared half of his face revealed. Wires with drilled in pinned rods following his broken jaw. Long gouges going up his face to the top of his head. Large chunks of flesh missing from his face from what looked like bite marks with layered claw marks. It stunned Blake as he stared, barely flinching in time as he was punched in the face. Staggering back, yet somehow keeping on his feet. Feeling something wrong when his heel did not connect to any land. He had no time to look as he flinched at wicker grabbing a gun. Preparing to be shot, but instead getting knocked back with the butt of the heavy rifle. Feeling himself fall back further and further than normally. Just seeing the cliff edge being outlined by wicker and his guard watching him fall. Blake seeing them for a moment of time that seemed slowed down. Seeing darkness close in on his eyesight as wicker and his men disappeared. Blacking out fully before he felt the pain of hitting the bottom.

“is he dead?” the soldier holding his bitten arm asked. “i didn't see him hit the bottom. You'll be going to make sure he is.” wicker cracked his jaw. “what?!” the soldier exclaimed. “bring back his body. Finish him if he's not cold already.” wicker spoke coldly. “but I need a doctor!!” the injured man exclaimed. “medical here!!” wicker shouted over his men. A soldier bearing a med patch coming forward with a box of first aid from the copter. “fix him. And 5 of you go with those two.” wicker commanded. “what about your mask sir.” the medic barely got out. “what about it?!” wicker snapped with hate filled eyes. Glaring the doctor into backing away in fear. “n-nothing sir!” the doctor stuttered as he quickly went to fix the soldiers hand. The two with a small group of volunteers heading off on foot with the helicopter going off with Val.

Blake woke with a massive feeling of pain. Opening his eyes to darkness surrounding him. The dark slowly edging away to reveal walls of bodies surrounded by pulsing flesh. “where am I? What the hell happened?” Blake thought as he rubbed a headache away. Slowly remembering events in flashes. Leaving Val, nightmare helicopter, blood, fighting, and blackout. “dammit, where's the helicopter?! Wheres Val?! All the way back at the lab by Templegate?!” his mind raced as he got to his feet. Heart sinking at the thought of traveling the entire way back. It would be impossible and far too late to save Val. “oh fuck.” Blake mumbled to himself at seeing the staring bodies. “why, why am I here?! I can't be here?! I don't have time for this!!” he thought, looking down the narrow organic halls forward and behind him. “got to find an exit!” he mumbled, running off down a hall without a thought. Looking for any sort of door down the multiple halls. Growing tired from pain at wheezing for air. He had to stop against his will to continue forward. Examining the walls for any hint at an exit. Finding nothing in the bloody vain showing skin that twitched in waves. He held his breath at the sight of a darkness pooling into the flesh. His heart speeding at the sight of a tall horrifying shadow approaching. “help me with this mess or you'll be sent away.” the corrupted voice threatened. “pray for your sins enemy of god!” knoths distorted voice shouted. “god loves you.” Marta voice claimed as it approached with mouths drooling thick blood. “get away from me!!” Blake shouted at the beast in fear. Bolting off down the hall to get away from it. Running blindly down dark tunnels that only allowed him to see 5 feet in front of him. The monster walking so effortlessly behind him. Blake ran through a double metal door before he could even realize what it was. He froze at the new surrounding. Recognizing immediately where he was. “my house.” he wheezed out. But it wasn't the house he lived in adulthood. A small squeak having his shaky body flinch. His head whipping over to the noise. Staring with a unnatural feeling of being out of body at the sight of himself, only as a young boy. Watching his younger self play with a toy truck with squeaky wheels. Panicking at the sight of darkness seeping through the cracks in the doors he just entered. Blood oozing out thickly at the bottom of them. He held his body against the door as he knew it was getting closer. Hearing its suffocating gurgling from the other side. followed by more blood pooling under Blakes feet at the doorways foundation. Struggling to keep the doors shut as they were banged on repeatedly. Blake shouted and cried to his younger self. Trying to get him to run or leave. In the end he had gotten no reaction from the boy playing. Crying as he had to leave or be caught by the monster breaking the door down. “what about-?! What do I do?!” he thought, looking to his younger self. Scared back from the door as a wired limb stabbed through the thick wood. Forcing Blake to abandon the house through the back door. Feeling the need to vomit as he heard his younger self scream out in pain. along with the sound of meat being torn apart. He looked back seeing a splatter of blood coat the double glass door he escaped from. Nothing left for him at the house he ran out into the heavy fog covered street. Shaking fearfully as he hurried through to get as far away as possible from the beasts footsteps. Running up to the neighbors doors banging for help. Getting no answer and unable to see through the pitch black windows. After trying a couple more houses he skipped the rest to just runaway down the street. Feeling like he ran for ages against his asthma. Stopping when he spotted the playground he and lynn always met at. “hi Blake! … whats wrong?” lynn greeted him from atop the large jungle gym. Her happy tone shifting to concern at the sight of him. “lynn?! … run!! get away from here!!” he shouted through desperate wheezing with large pained eyes. “... did you run away?” she asked. Unable to recognize Blakes desperate situation. Asking him the same question when they first met at the playground like a recording. Blake looking back with a sinking heart as he heard the deep gurgling breaths of the monster approaching. Razor jagged teeth with glowing bright eyes shining against its dark silhouette. “RUN AWAY!!” he shouted again desperately. Repeating over and over despite her expression not understanding him. “you can't run away you know. … I know its hard for you, but don't let this eat your life away.” she spoke, looking down to him. The sentence coming off as strange. The first half he remembered, but it went on instead of stopping. He stood there in stunned silence before spotting it from the corner of his eye. He had to run again. Forcing himself to leave the young lynn behind just like he did to himself. Getting sick at the repeating child screams of pain along with shredding meat. He stopped in a alley a few blocks down from the park. Leaning against a brick wall to wheeze in some air. Breathing through his sickness as to not vomit. “what am I doing? Why am I running? ... I couldn't save Jessica or lynn. … how can I save myself?” he thought pessimistically, staring down at the bottom of the wall. “maybe I should just … wait here.” he thought, growing tired of running. “it's already taken so much … all that's left is me.” he closed his eyes for a brief moment. “there's still Val.” the voice deep in his mind reminded him. Opening his eyes to see the alley way crumbled to the pulsating walls of bloody meat. The hanging watchers returning to stare him down. Blakes depression turning to anger at their presence. “what do you want?!” he roared up at them. “you've taken everything else! My friends, my childhood, my parents. What else could you possibly want?!” he cried up at them. The pain of everything washing over him. “it's all your fault.” the distorted voice spoke. Blake choking up at the mutated beasts appearance. Feeling his body uncontrollably shiver from rushing adrenaline. “liar, sinner, murderer.” knoths voice accused him as it stepped closer. “no use hiding.” the man's voice mocked. All the fear in Blake being washed over by pain fueled hatred. “i didn't do it!” he snapped at the creature. Having it laugh at his attempt at releasing anger. Having Blakes anger only grow more from all the mocking. “i didn't kill Jessica, you did!” he snapped, pointing an accusing hand at the towering creature. The monsters laughing stopped with a snapping of its jaws. “you kept the sin a secret you father of lies.” the beat gurgled out with a growl. “you lied!” Blake shouted at it. The beast going quiet with another snap of its jaws. The multiple staring hangers shifting there watching gaze onto the beast. The shifting gaze having the beast step back with a long drawn out hiss like a snake. “you forced me to do it all! I didn't hang her! I didn't chase her till she broke her neck down the stairs. It was all you!” Blake continued a little more confidently. Trying to get as much out while he had the chance. The beast roared with both jaws opening wide to see every last rotten tooth. “you couldn't save them. You failed and it's all your fault. Why didn't you do something?!” the beast accusingly mocked him again with a hiss. “i didn't runaway. I tried to help unlike you! YOU COWARD!” Blake screamed. Startled when the monster let out a painful screech as its skin cracked with a burst of flame sprouting. Blake watched the creature writhe around as the fire spread over its body. Limbs turning black till they crumbled to the floor in a pile of ash. It stopped twisting to focus on Blake, heading for him in a charging form of bloody fire. Blake turned into a run with the burning monster right at his heels. It wasn't long when Blake slowed to almost a stop as the creatures body melted away behind him. He stopped to watch the beast slow. Limbs falling off as it continued walking toward him. Its breath sounding suffocating for it. Its once high posture now crippling itself with the loss of many legs. The twisted wolfs head crumbling off to dust. “all this time you've been eating my life away. You cant anymore.” Blake told it. The beast momentarily sinking its body down with its bottom jaw falling off with a snap of skin. It let out one more angry gurgling hiss standing up straight again. It lunged forward with its remaining arms to grab him. Blake jumping back to avoid it, falling to the floor. Watching as the creature was stopped by multiple rotting hands grabbing its body from the organic blood floor. Dragging it slowly down into a pool of forming blood. Blake stood up from the floor to calmly watch the creature be dragged down to drown. Letting out a sigh of relief. feeling himself suddenly free of a burden on his shoulders that he was never aware of till now. He looked around with no clue where to head now. The walls of flesh now turning to cold dark stone. All the watchers disappearing after the beast burst into flames. He walked down the tunnel for a few steps. Seeing a blue light appearing at its end. He stopped at the tunnels end where it grew into a massive room of stone. Looking at a large assembly of watchers staring toward him with a greater one at the middle. At a first glance it looked like one of those praying angel statues. Upon closer inspection someone would see past is fake holy posture. Two massive wings make up of a thousand arms, each clawing into one another to hold everything up. A horned skull of some horse looking off to the side bearing no eyes but dark empty sockets. a spiked column of spinal boned neck leading down to connect at its shoulders. A thin bony body draped in shredded dark cloth. 4 arms brought together against its chest as if praying. All the watchers surrounding the large twisted angel staring down at Blake. Beginning to whisper to each other over him. The treatment becoming annoying to Blake as he still couldn't tell what exactly they were whispering about him. “some believe god and Satan are the same. Why cant angels and demons be just the same?” he thought, feeling nothing negative from the large entity. Despite its towering emaciated appearance of both animal to human parts. The whispering growing loud enough it was causing Blake a headache. “what now?!” he shouted at them all. The whispering stopping with the large twisted angel forming a red glow where its eyes should be. It shifted its massive towering form with crackling being heard. Sounding like it had waited an eternity for that question to be asked. Slowly shifting its head to look further off to Blakes right. Taking away two arms from one side of its praying position to slowly point down toward a tunnel. Blake looked to it, seeing a pure white light appear from it. He cautiously walked over to it. Keeping an eye on the watchers with there twisted angel as he had to pass by. Now walking down this bright white light lit tunnel. The cold stone going smooth like cut marble. Tensing when he saw two shadows approach. They were both too small to be adults. “hi Blake! Nice to see you again!” Jessica smiled at him. “too bad for the circumstance.” lynn half mumbled to the other. He swallowed back some tears at seeing the two. Unable to stop the rest of them from flowing out. He couldn't find any words in his mouth. “no “hi” after all these years?” Jessica teased him, getting a small shove from lynn. “don't tease him!” lynn giggled. “why not? i haven't been able to do it in years! You know i am only joking.” Jessica spoke to lynn, looking to Blake with a smile. Getting a shaky smile from Blake as he wiped away the tears with a happy nod. “hey ...” he shakily got out. Fighting back the tears so he could actually talk to them. “am I - ...” was the only thing he could get out. Wiping away more tears. “no.” Jessica shook her head. “you have a lot of things to do.” lynn told him. “you have to help someone else now.” Jessica added. “but … im sorry.” he barely got out. Referring to his failure to save the both of them. “ you tried, you went farther than anybody else ever would. We know you're not superman, but you sure act like him.” lynn spoke with confidence in him. “that's why you have to go, because no one else will go so far to help.” Jessica smiled. “you have to go help her. i wont be mad just be happy, for me, when you do. Okay?” lynn smiled to him. Getting a teary eyed nod from Blake. “good, now go kick some ass.” Jessica grinned. “I cant believe you said that.” lynn snickered. “i was never allowed to. Now I can.” Jessica smiled triumphantly. “now you say it.” she dared lynn with a small push. “no!” lynn refused. “yes! You got to say it more than me it should be easy!” Jessica challenged again. “ugh, … go kick some ass.” lynn mumbled in embarrassment, bringing up a fist arm of rooting. Getting a happy chuckle out of Blake. “... time for you to go.” Jessica informed, having Blake lose his smile. “don't worry, we'll see each other some day. When we do you gotta admit to lynn I won the tackle game.” she teased him, getting another smile out of him. “you nerd.” he jokingly called her. Wiping away the final amount of tears he had. “nerd.” Jessica jokingly called him back. Blakes smile dropping as the brightly lit area faded away with lynn and Jessica getting farther and farther away. “goodbye Blake.” they both said with a wave goodbye. “bye.” he shouted back while he could before watching them disappear. Darkness surrounding him in a void. He woke up with his eyes blinded by sunlight beaming down. painfully looking away with a pop from his stiff neck. Looking up again to see the cliff edge from where he fell. It wasn't too far up possibly being about 15 - 20 feet. “dammit, your still alive.” Blake heard someone growl. “get up!” the man commanded. Blake looking over to see the soldier with a wrapped bloody hand. Recognizing him as the one with his fingers bitten off. Seeing no other choice at the moment he slowly rose up. His body wracked with pain forcing him to go slow. When moving his hand he stopped at the feeling of something rough shifting over his open palm. Looking out of the corner of his eye he saw a stick shaped thing covered with a noticeable pattern of black diamonds.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #val outlast

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screensirenfic · 5 years

Text

Black Leather - Chapter 16

No one even bothered cleaning up the glass; all three of us too tired and jagged from words better left unsaid.

Not even a word had been spoken since; Eleven refusing to leave her room, and me ducking into my own soon after the ordeal.

Not that it mattered.

Dad didn’t even try to talk to us; still wound up too tightly to say anything but cutting remarks.

I’m pretty sure he’d fallen asleep on the couch, refusing to leave his post out of pure spite; and what do you know? When I peered our from my room, he was still there.

I edged out of my room, having already memorised every creaky floorboard and loose nail in true teenage renegade fashion.

Step by step, I made it across the living room, tiptoeing through a gauntlet of shattered glass and upturned furniture just waiting to trip me up.

I lost my footing; my heel falling down on a particularly large shard of glass; the sharp crunch cutting through the air like a gunshot.

Dad snorts, and my heart stops in my chest.

I dared a glance up at him, dreading the conversation we’d have if he woke.

To my relief he remained dead to the world; half drunk bottle of beer still gripped in his hand. He lets out aloud snore, lazily lifting his wrist to run at his nose, before falling limp once more.

I let out a sigh of relief, thanking whatever God was up there was too preoccupied to humiliate me.

I then lifted my foot, holding back a hiss as the motion finally stirred my pain reflex; the glass feeling as painful as the metaphors might suggest.

Balancing rather deftly on one leg, I raised my foot up, allowing me to get a better look at the cut.

It had bled a lot, but it wasn’t deep; the bloody shard that caused it still wedged in my skin.

I pulled it out, wincing when the jagged edges caught on exit, but still; it would be fine.

I’d had splinters worse; I swear.

After that I was more careful, rising up on my tiptoes so only the barest amount of my foot touched the floor as I made my way across to Eleven’s room.

I reached it without further injury, lightly rapping my knuckles on the door.

“El, it’s me; Lola. Can I come in?” I asked in a hoarse whisper, leaning in close to the wood lest dad might hear me.

Silence.

“I know it’s late, but I thought you could use some company...” I continued; not entirely sure that the kid wasn’t fast asleep and I was talking to thin air.

Still nothing.

I tried one last desperate attempt, hoping that somehow she’d be listening.

“I bought Eggos.” I said, and it wasn’t entirely a lie. I’d fished them out of the trash when dad wasn’t looking, guessing I might need some bargaining chips later, and hid them underneath my mattress where dad wouldn’t find them.

The door clicked as it unlocked, swinging open ever so slightly.

It seemed my ploy payed off.

I snuck into the room, making sure to make as little sound as possible as I shut the door behind me.

El was sat on the floor, knees tucked up to her chest in a position that was universally recognisable as upright foetal; a clear sign she wasn’t quite over what dad had said yet.

Tear stains streaked her cheeks; her eyes still red and puffy from crying, and dried blood crusted beneath her nose from where she’d attempted to wipe it away with her sleeve.

Overall; she looked a sorry state, and my heart cried out in sympathy for her. It wasn’t easy going head on with Jim Hopper’s fury, especially not at thirteen years old with no experience.

“Hey El...” I smiled, slowly approaching her much like you’d approach a startled horse; all soft words and gentle movements.

“Can I sit down?” I asked, slowly lowering myself to her level.

She nodded, and I sunk down beside her, sitting with my back to the wall so she didn’t feel pressured to look me in the eye.

“Y’know; all that destroying things with your mind stuff, that’s pretty badass...” I remarked, grasping for something to break the silence.

“I could think of a few situations I could use that...” I continued, giving her a sly look, because it was true. I could use that; especially if it meant scaring the shit out of a certain pretty boy who couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me.

But this was about Eleven; not me.

“Do you want an Eggo?” I offered, reaching into the oversized pockets of my shirt where I’d hidden my haul.

El nodded, managing a small smile that licked at the corners of her mouth.

I pulled out the Eggos, slightly regretful that they’d become so crushed in transit.

“They’re a little squished. Had to hide them from the fun patrol...” I joked, pulling the cellophane wrapper from one before handing it to her.

“But they’re still good.”

El took a bite from it, before smiling and nodding.

“Still good.” She agreed, taking another bite.

I watched her eat for a moment, savouring that small satisfied smile that stretched across her face every time she took a bite.

I knew I was gonna have to talk to her. At least try to foster some forgiveness between her and dad before sunrise. God knows the pair of them were too pigheaded to do so themselves, but still; the challenge seemed daunting in its own way.

“You know; all that shit dad said earlier, he didn’t mean it.” I began, fixing my gaze on the door opposite, because I wasn’t sure I could do this if she was looking straight at me.

“You’re not...”

“A brat?” She finished my sentence; no hint of accusation in her words, just pure curiosity.

“No; you’re not a brat.” I confirmed; my voice dropping low, because I really didn’t like to use that word for the kid; not after all she’d been through.

I reached out for her, grasping my hand around her own and interlacing our fingers, if not for her sake then for my own; because I wasn’t good with emotions and shit; I was gonna need some moral support for this one.

“It’s just... sometimes he gets real mad and doesn’t know what he’s saying and he does stuff that can really hurt...” I tried to explain; the confession coming harder than I thought it would.

“Hopper hurt you?” She asked; though her phrasing made it seem more like a statement than a question.

“What?” I replied; confused on what made her think that.

She reached across with her spare hand, fingers gently tracing my wrist where deep purple bruises decorated my skin in the shape of fingerprints.

“Hopper hurt you?” She repeated herself; her intention clearer now than before. My stomach sunk again at the realisation.

She thought dad hit me; the genuine concern on her face laced with resentment a more cutting tool than any weapon. She honestly believed that my dad would hurt me; physically and not just with words. It made my heart break in my chest.

“No, sweetie; no.” I corrected with a sad smile, pulling gently on her head till it rested on my shoulder in some strange hybrid of a half hug.

“Dad would never hurt me; or you, for that matter. Not ever”

I felt her body relax after that, tension bleeding out of her as if her only fear was what I might’ve went through. That I might’ve suffered just a smidgeon of what she had; bless her heart.

I didn’t deserve El; her honesty and genuine enthusiasm. Being around her was like seeing the world through fresh eyes, and being as jaded as I was; that was an experience I could never underestimate.

El was an incredible little kid, and dad should buck up and see that before it’s too late.

—————————————————

The next morning I’d woken up to the sound of hammering just outside my bedroom; the dull thump of metal on wood ridiculously loud in the wood’s serene silence. Seems like dad had started cleaning up the mess.

Good for him; I heard cleaning builds character.

I forced myself out of bed and began to get dressed, eager to get to school, because as much as I hated having to listen to rumours there; at least I could drop kick someone if they really pissed me off.

Here, I’d have no hope; tensions already high enough without the threat of physical violence rearing it’s head.

I was still pissed at dad; more for Eleven’s sake than my own.

Yes; she’d acted recklessly and put herself in danger, and that was childish, but guess what? She was a child, and I’d forgive her a multitude of sins for that very reason, and the fact that beneath it all, she was a pretty good kid; if not a little messed up.

But so was I; I guess that’s why we related so well.

Dad, on the other hand, had been completely out of line.

He’d berated and belittled her at every opportunity, before downright threatening her with what was virtually abandonment; and I couldn’t condone that, not after the bullshit she’d already been through at the hands of so called responsible adults.

He knew what he’d said had been wrong, but I wasn’t gonna be the one to spell it out for him; he was old enough to do that for himself.

So when I left my room, I didn’t say a word to him, making a beeline straight for my keys on the kitchen counter.

“Well; lookie who it is, if it isn’t the caped crusader emerging from her cave...” Dad drawled; no trace of affection in the dry nickname.

“Had fun gossiping with Robin; Batman?” He asked sardonically, but I wasn’t about to sink to his level.

Instead, I just shoved on my leather jacket, ignoring how he stared at me expectingly, as if that question deserved an answer.

“The silent treatment; huh?” He continued, following me as I stalked across the room to find my backpack.

“Well good for you for setting a great example for the kid. I bet that attitude goes down real fucking peachy with the kids at school...” He continued to gripe, but that was it.

That was the last straw, and I wasn’t about to shut up and take it whilst he dragged me through the mud like a fucking martyr.

I marched up to him; eyes burning with a subtle fury as I stared him down, not a hint of submission in my posture.

“You know what; I did talk to the kid last night, and yes; it was about you, but only because I was trying to convince her that you weren’t a total dick.” I spat; not even flinching at the sprinkling of expletives finding their way into my speech.

“But apparently I’d been wrong and stupid, and I know; ‘we are not stupid.” I finished, throwing his words into his face, before storming out of the cabin.

“Lola; wait...” He called out; regret already colouring his voice, but you know what; fuck him.

He was the one so set on the fact that actions had consequences, so now he could fucking drown in them for all I cared.

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misterewrites · 5 years

Text

The Detective and the Crook (Sherlock AU)

Hello everyone, Mr.E here and kinda back from my retirement! I hope you’re all doing good!

Sorry for disappearing like that, I had a lot of things come up and some more personal responsibilities i have to take care of but hopefully I can get back into steadily writing again. Also I apologize if this is a little off because I am rusty but hopefully you still enjoy it.

So this is a birthday gift I owe someone and I really hope they like it. They asked me for a sherlock au and I decided to go with the guy Ritchie movie series the one where Robery Downey Jr. is Sherlock. I really enjoy those movies and I feel it is a great balance mystery and action.

In this AU, set in the 1800s like the movie and the books, Marco is naturally Sherlock with his Waston being Janna because that felt like a fun dynamic I wanted to explore. They’re called in to investigate a crime scene and Marco suspects there’s more to it than meets the eye. Yes Star is Irene Alder because I could not resist.

Warnings! There is a crime scene, suspected suicide. Very tame scene, not graphic but still giving a warning just in case. There is cussing because they’re all in their mid-20s but I think that’s about it.

Well I hope my friend enjoys this gift. I am so sorry it took so long and I hope you had a great birthday. Thank you all for reading it, please let me know what you think if you enjoyed it and I hope you all have a great week! See you all soon with another story!

A thin misty veil of fog blanketed the city of Echo Creek as the frosty winter air kept most of its residents within the cozy confines of their homes. Only the unfortunate and determined would dare to brave such a chilly morning.

“What kind mad loon commits crimes during the winter?” Janna asked with a hint of annoyance, tucking her uncovered fingers within her gloved palms “And in the morning no less! It’s been scientifically proven that the winter mornings are psychologically bull.”

“And I suppose your source for this scientific research is the University Of Janna says?” Marco replied sarcastically.

“We both know I’m not going to answer that.”

“You know when I told you the Yard called that they had found a body this morning and that they requested my...”

“Our” Janna corrected, rubbing her hands for warmth.

“...our services, it was greatly implied they meant right away. Hence the whole walking towards the crime scene now. Why on earth did you cut off the tips of your gloves if you knew it was going to be cold out?”

Janna scratched her chin thoughtfully for a moment “I like being fashionable and let me tell you fingerless gloves are going to be huge. Wait and see.”

“I’ll take being warm over being fashionable”

Janna scoffed with a roll of her eyes “And that’s why you’re boring safe kid.”

The pair’s footsteps echoed dully against the thick foggy air with towering, massive warehouses on one side and the murky ocean on the other.

Marco was sensibly dressed for the weather: A large thick travel coat hung over his frame with his finely pressed black dress pants and slightly muddied loafers scraping across the ground with his white collared shirt tucked underneath the layers.

Janna was not as prepared as her partner: Though a green scarf was wrapped snugly around her neck to keep it warm, her dark blue dress jacket, green blouse and knee length yellow skirt did not help. The black ‘fingerless’ gloves were equally ineffective for warmth and her dirtied, frayed riding boots thudded loudly against the cobbled streets. And in true Janna fashion, the cap she had stole from an unsuspecting paper boy sat unevenly on her head.

“So what are we looking today?” Janna asked quizzically, unable to handle the silence for another moment.

“Someone jumped from their office building.” Marco answered matter of fact.

“Uggggggggh then why are we here?!”

“We both know the police have less than an unbiased eye for these types of matters. I simply wanted to confirm their claims.”

“And you couldn’t do it by yourself? I could be wrapped up nice and snug as bug in my bed right now.’

“Shouldn’t you be studying for your final exam?”

Janna fidgeted nervously “I...well it’s on the 5th so I have time.”

Marco’s stare was completely deadpanned “Today’s the 3rd Janna”

“Ah shit.”

Marco shook his head tiredly as the pair reached their destination.

It was a secluded building surrounded by thick, lofty brick walls clearly meant to keep people out, the floor was muddy from the moist ocean air with the squish of dozens of police boots bustling this way and that filling the air. In the center, surrounded by cracked wood and shattered glass was a man, arms outstretched and unmoving, the earth underneath soaked a dark red.

“I suppose that’s our bloke huh?” Janna chimed “Rather peaceful scene. Was expecting more gore, more grisly. Nice change of pace speaking honestly.”’

“I just cleaned these loafers” Marco whined quietly, trying to shake the mud from his feet.

“Oi!” a nearby police officer shouted “Show some respect for the dead!”

“I do!” Janna shot back “Especially more so than you fine folks. Messed up any more crime scenes McNab?”

The officer shifted uneasily before quickly making his escape.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought”

“Janna, stop picking on the police.”

“I will if you don’t.”

The two chuckled softly as a familiar person approached.

“Marco!” Detective Ferguson yelled with unrestrained glee “JANNA BANANA!”

“Don’t call me that” Janna murmured.

“I’m glad ya’ll had the time to come down here though I’m afraid it might be for nothing.”

“Always happy to help you Ferg.” Marco shook his best friend’s hand “More so than the other yard’s detectives.”

“I’ll count myself lucky and show you to the vic.”

The trio trudged through the thick mud over to the lifeless corpse laid across the random debris.

“What happened?”

“Well” Ferguson scratched his neck “Some random bloke on the street saw the guy laying here and figured he was drunk. Called us right away. His name is Andrew Willingham. Accountant that works for building we are currently standing in front of. We don’t have much to go on given that we haven’t been here long. So far we gathered he tossed himself out the 5th story window. Must’ve been stress or something.”

Marco pursed his lips, his instincts screaming at him that there was more here than seemed.

“Mind if I check the body?” Janna piped up.

“Got your medical license yet?” Ferguson cheekily responded.

“My test is in two days….” Janna mumbled darkly.

“Then officially you know I’m not allowed. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go for a walk. A loooooong walk.” and with a wink, Ferguson strolled away, whistling unusually loud.

Janna and Marco sighed in unison.

“Could he be any more obvious?”

“Of course he could, he’s Ferguson.”

“What do you think?” Janna muttered softly as she began to circle the corpse carefully.

Marco stretched his arms towards the sky, mumbling under his breath “I suspect foul play. I’ve been investigating this company. There’s been some known associates of various crime lords visiting this location lately.”

“Fuuuuuuuuun and already proven correct. Ugh, it’s so annoying.”

Marco watched the scattered police cautiously “What is it?”

“Bruises on the knuckles.” Janna cracked her neck “So unless he’s a bare knuckle boxer….”

“Impossible. With his build, he’d lose. Consistently”

Janna rolled her eyes “Obviously captain. Probably was assaulted before thrown out the window. Fought back but lost.” Janna frowned at the body “Well clearly.”

Marco opened his mouth to respond when another, unfriendly voice cut in

“What are you two doing?”

A random officer approached the two, eyes narrowed in suspicious irritation.

“Hello officer!” Marco gave a cheerful wave “I am sure you know who we are. I am Mr. Diaz and this is….”

“Like you said, I know.” The officer gritted his teeth “And I am afraid civilians aren’t allowed in crime scenes.”

“Detective Ferguson...”

“Is not here” The officer crossed his arm threateningly “And when he comes back, I’ll be happy to let him know where you’ve gone.”

“Oi! What’s going on here?”

The trio’s attention snapped towards Ferguson madly rushing their way.

“What seems to be the..” Ferguson huffed, his breathing heavy as he doubled over “Oh boy. That….mud...very hard to walk across….”

“Detective” The officer started “I know Mr. Diaz is a friend but regulations...”

Marco gave a loud sneeze, causing the two officers to jump in surprise.

“I am very sorry I...” Marco let loose another sneeze “Oh, I guess I’m allergic to something here.”

“You have allergies?” Ferguson asked quizzically.

Marco nodded before sneezing once more “I...I think I should go.”

“Okaaaaay” Ferguson nodded slowly “I hope you feel better? I’ll let you know if we find anything else out.”

Marco wiped at his nose with his coat sleeve “Thank you Ferg. Janna?”

Janna snapped to attention mockingly “Coming boss man!”

Marco ignored the glare of the peeved officer as he and Janna made their way out of the murky courtyard.

_____________________________________________________________

The pair walked in a careful silence until they were sure the police were out of earshot.

“What did you find?” Marco asked nonchalantly.

Janna reached into her pocket and brought out an elegant pin: It was a beautiful, well crafted butterfly shaped pin inlaid with varying shades of blue gems.

“A blue butterfly pin. Fine piece of jewelry, worth a pretty pound.” Janna answered with a hint of boredom “It was tucked inside his jacket pocket. Good call on checking his clothing. Should we tell the bobbies?”

Marco shook his head “No. I’m afraid this is beyond their reach. I think the man that called it in was involved somehow though I doubt he was the murderer.”

A brief tense silence.

“Do you think she’s involved? It’s not really her cup of tea offing random, supposed criminal accountants.”

Marco bit his cheek anxiously “No. I don’t think she murdered him but I believe he knew her. I suspect he’s part of the same organization as Star. The pin is most likely a subtle way for the members to reveal their identities to one another in public. I’ve seen this pin on her person and its general shape and color seems to indicate it was custom made.”

Janna let out a sigh of relief “Oh thank the queen. Not going lie, I was going to be very disappointed in her if she started offing random blokes.” Janna paused “I mean innocent blokes. Well...presumably innocent blokes. Seriously, can you figure out if he’s a crook or not? I don’t like feeling conflicted. Morality is annoying.”

“We need to find her.”

“Because you want to see her ooooor she’s a target?”

Marco coughed, tugging at his collar nervously.

Janna snickered “You could’ve just said both. Both is good. I miss her too.”

“I do not miss her” Marco firmly growled.

“And how bout those pictures of her you have hanging on the wall? Oh I’m sorry, your case board.”

“You never know when the police...might want to reexamine her case and….I just wanted to be prepared. She is a rather tricky criminal.”

“Mhm” Janna smirked mischievously “You know where she is, don’t you?”

Marco flushed a bright red, coughing coolly “No….but I know where she will be.”

“Awesome!” Jana beamed cheerfully.

_______________________________________________________________

“Oh bloody hell” Janna pouted, openly glaring at the rundown state of pub that towered before them “You couldn’t have told me we were coming to this shitehole? I lost money here. Repeatedly.”

Marco ignored his partner’s whining “Perhaps you should stop gambling on games of chance.”

“Perhaps you should mind your own business.” Janna huffed “Ugh, are you sure she’s here? Maybe she’s round at the nice corner store. I should go check it...”

Janna frowned as Marco held the back of her coat tightly.

“Fine fine safe kid but I want the record to show I protest this whole adventure.”

“Mhm”

“I mean it Marco. I want a voucher” Janna gestured threateningly as the duo began making their way towards the building “One adventure where I get to stay home and do nothing.”

“Let’s get this over with Janna. You have a test to study for.”

“Oh shut up” Janna snarled, angrily pulling the bar door open.

The detectives flinched as the silence of night was broken: Cheers of triumphant joy and sorrowful cries filled the air. The smell of cheap alcohol and thick smoke wafted all around them as an unbearable heat engulfed the pair.

“Open a damn window!” Janna shouted into the crowd, waving the smoke away from her face.

“Go outside if you don’t like it.” A cigar smoking patron answered from a nearby table.

Janna shook her head “That’s going kill you. Painfully.”

The patron made an obscene gesture before returning to his drink.

Janna growled furiously, clenching her fist in righteous fury.

“Janna” Marco stepped between his friend and her victim “Janna, he’s drunk. He’s not worth it.”

She gritted her teeth “Just once. Just once and I’ll be good.”

“Janna, we’re here on a mission.”

“You suck” Janna grumbled, adjusting the cap on her head “I need a drink….”

And with a sudden turn, Janna stomped her way over to a waiting bartender.

“Don’t forget why we’re here!” Marco yelled after only to have his partner respond with a lazy wave.

Marco sighed tiredly, his gaze searching for the elusive trickster Star among the drunken patrons.

No, not Star. Don’t use her name. If he uses her name, that humanizes her and he was here on a case. He was not here to see her. He was here to question a suspect and nothing more. Not at all. Nothing beyond that. Why was his heart racing? There was no need to be nervous. None whatsoever. It was just….Star. Her.

Marco jumped at the soft tap of his shoulder. He whirled around with his fist closed, his stance guarded from the interruption of his thoughts.

He was expecting some sort of muscular goon or drunk trying to stir up trouble. What he found was a barmaid with a tray in one hand and a smug knowing grin on her lips.

“Looking for a fight darling?” She teased.

Marco flushed, dropping his hands to his sides “N-no. Sorry, I was..distracted. “

“I bet” she gave a flirty wink “Can I get you anything?”

Marco narrowed his eyes “No though I suspect you have for me.”

The barmaid’s grin widened as her voice dropped to a whisper “She’s waiting for you. Upstairs in the office. It’s the room just above the bar love.”

Before Marco could ask any further questions, the barmaid gave a cheeky grin and giggled joyfully before vanishing into a thick crowd of customers.

“Of course….”

________________________________________________________________

Marco took a deep breath, his nerves further frayed and on edge as he stood on the second floor landing. The rowdy shouts and cries of the bar below could be scarcely heard over the thundering of his footsteps in his ears, each step he took brought him closer to the office door across the way. Marco noticed Janna giving a hearty laugh at the counter, playfully nudging a sailor before making her way towards card game in the back.

Marco felt oddly exposed making his way across the second floor. He told himself it was due to being in such a vulnerable location: Everyone below had an excellent unobstructed line of sight to the detective with little to no cover if someone decided to take a shot at him even though none had any reason to suspect who he was.

Of course that’s only what he thought. With each step his heart raced more, the idea of seeing Star tugged at his heartstrings and morals.

Marco gulped anxiously, gently running his fingers across the weathered, ancient door that separated the outlaw and himself.

He took a deep breath, gripping the doorknob firmly for a moment….two….three before he steeled his nerves and quietly pushed open the door in hopes of catching Star unaware.

“My heart is pierced by cupid”

Marco flushed, pausing as Star’s voice caught him off guard instead. It was sweet and soft with a gentleness she hardly spoke with.

“I disdain all glittering gold”

The floor creaked under her steps, back and forth in time almost as if she was dancing with someone but he could hear no other person in the room and Star never sang while there was an audience.

“There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold.”

Marco knew there was no point in waiting. Either she had taken a moment to relax before his arrival or, more likely, knew he was listening. He entered the room, eyes downcast as to avoid Star’s Cheshire gaze. He closed the door behind him with a subdued thud.

“Okay” Marco thought to himself “Let’s get this over with”

Marco’s cheeks burned a bright red as he slowly took in the sight of Star.

She was as beautiful as the last time she escaped from him: Her long blonde hair tied in a braid slung over her shoulder with various colored flowers weaved within. She wore a brown long sleeved blouse with matching fingerless gloves holding tightly onto some invisible partner. Her skirt was not the current bell shaped dresses most woman preferred nowadays but rather a slim, knee length skirt that seemed rather practical. And of course, in true Star fashion, weathered yet well kept riding boots completed the outfit.

Her blue irises were hidden behind her closed eyes, her body swaying back and forth to some unheard music. She hummed softly, a melodic sound Marco could’ve listened all day if he were a weaker willed man.

He coughed hesitantly.

Star’s eyes slowly opened, blue meeting brown as a soft warm smile danced on her lips.

“Good evening my sailor bold.” She spoke sweetly “Which storm are you chasing today?”

Marco stayed still, ignoring Star gestures to sit.

“This isn’t a social visit Star.” Marco struggled to keep his voice neutral.

“It never is” Star responded sarcastically “Always business with you. Why can’t you ever come just to see me?”

“If you found a permanent residence I’d visit more often. I think the local jail is very lovely. Perfect for you.”

Star chuckled, an intoxicating sound to his ears.

“How’s our Janna? I heard she’s been going on the straight and narrow now.”

“Good” Marco played with a random globe on Star’s desk “She’s almost a real doctor now. Her medical exam is in two days. I think she’ll pass with flying colors but don’t tell her that. Pride is quite the sin.”

Star beamed proudly “I am so happy for her. Please pass along my congratulations, will you sweetie?”

Marco answered by clearing his throat.

“Marco, Marco, Marco” Star sighed tiredly “Enough flirting. Why are you here?”

Marco strolled across the room, glancing at everything that wasn’t Star.

“Andrew Willingham. You know him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Star’s grin faltered for a moment “He’s dead isn’t he?”

“Jumped out of a building this morning.”

Star scoffed “Like you really believe that.”

“We both know I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

Marco made his way to the window, staring at the busy street below.

“And what?” Star put her hands on her hips “You think I killed him? For shaaaaame Marco. You know me better than that. Or at least I thought you did.”

Marco rolled his eyes “I don’t think you killed him but I believe the murderer is coming for you next.”

Star looked unconvinced “I run with a very secretive and, frankly, shadowy organization love. I haven’t done anything...” Star pursed her lips “Lately to anyone. Who would want to kill me?”

“How many of you are in town?”

Star scratched her chin thoughtfully “If Andy’s dead, then just me but that hardly seems like any sort of proof that I’m in.….”

Creak.

The roof groaned unhappily as bits of dust fell from the ceiling, the building shudder slightly while the wind howled outside.

Marco and Star stared at one another in understanding.

Star moaned unhappily “That’s not the building settling, is it?”

Marco shook his head.

Star glared openly at the detective “I hate it when you’re right.”

Silence.

CRACK!

The window shattered, glass scattering everywhere as a dark robed figure sailed into the room, knife drawn. He lunged directly at Star, his blade glimmering in the soft light of the room.

But his attack struck air as Marco pulled Star closer, wrapping her in a protective embrace.

“Woooow, we are bold today aren’t we Mr. Diaz?” Star teased.

“Not now Star!” Marco shot back, cheeks tinged pink.

The assassin skidded the across the floor, gracefully raising to his feet before pivoting on and charging at his targets.

Star slipped her hand into Marco’s, trying to ignore her skipping heartbeat when Marco firmly held her waist.

The assassin slashed wildly, striking with a finesse only a master of their craft could muster.

The assailant’s single minded pursuit was mired with confusion as the two did not assume any defensive stances to fight off his assault but rather began swaying back and forth, their feet gliding effortlessly across the aged wooden floor as if in a dance.

He thrust forward, tumbling forward when Marco spun Star, gracefully twirling the thief out of harms way. The assassin whirled around, attempting to slash the detective but Marco dipped his partner and as Star fell backwards in Marco’s arms, her leg shot up and caught the assassin in the stomach, sending him stumbling backwards.

“This reminds of Paris.” Star grinned slyly as Marco brought her back to her feet

“You and I remember Paris quite differently Star.” Marco shot back, spinning her away from their foe’s lunge.

The assassin roared with a savage fury and plunged his blade towards the couple but with a gentle shove, Star broke away from Marco, dropping into a respectful bow before glancing upwards towards the detective.

“Could you…?” Star gestured towards the assassin.

“Right.” Marco awkwardly nodded in agreement before giving Star a steely glare “Don’t go anywhere.”

Star gives a cheeky grin “Would’ve dream of it love.”

Marco rushes forward, grabbing the assassin’s shoulder but before he could react, the assassin lashed out, elbowing the unprepared Marco.

Marco staggers to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade as it scrapes across the wall. Marco jabs at the assassin, his fist connecting with his chin.

The assassin staggers back, weapon and hand wildly flailing to keep Marco at a distance.

“Who do you work for?” Marco yelled, not really expecting an answer.

“Death” The assassin mumbles darkly.

“Such a bloody edgelord” Marco clicked his tongue in disappointment.

The assassin lunges at Marco, hand reaching for his throat. Marco grabs at the man’s wrist but the assassin throws his weight forward, knocking Marco off balance. Marco stumbles uneasily as the assassin goes in for the kill.

Marco tackles into his opponent, slamming him into the bookcase. The assassin winces in pain, kneeing Marco in the stomach before shoving him away.

The two caught their breath for a moment, the falling books thudding loudly onto the floor.

The assassin yells with a hope of startling Marco. He swings with crazed fervor: Left right, thrusting forward.

Marco dodges and weaves the blade, hopping side to side to avoid the weapon. The assassin rushes at him, trying to drive the blade into his chest.

Marco flails for a moment, not used to facing such a skilled opponent.

The assassin smashes into Marco and sends him sprawling onto the desk. With a confident grin, he raises the blade high before bringing it down with all his might.

Marco reaches for the closest thing he could find and uses it as a desperate shield. The blade sinks into a leather bound book he grabbed. Marco winces at the force of the blow, sweat beads forming on his neck as he struggles to fight off the assassin.

“Soooo love.”

Marco frowns, glancing towards to door, not at all surprised to see Star giving him a cheery wave.

“You got this right?” Star asked hopefully.

“Don’t go anywhere STAR!” Marco shouted, wildly kicking at the befuddled assassin.

“Right! I’ll get Janna”

“STAR!”

But it was too late. She vanished beyond the doorframe.

“Ugh” Marco growled, shifting his focus back onto the problem at hand.

The assassin snarled furiously: He yanks back with all his might, pulling the book free from Marco’s grasp. Marco sits up but the assassin is ready for him. He strikes at Marco’s stomach with an open palm, knocking all the air out of his lungs.

Marco gasps in a panic but the assassin doesn’t go for the kill. Instead he rips his blade from the book and races for the door.

There’s a loud thud that no one hears as the assassin kicks open the door. His eyes narrow at the sight of the fleeing Star. He grins to himself, gingerly holding the edge of his blade. His arm pulls back, his gaze focused solely on his target’s back. He takes a deep, calming breath and….

“Shit!” The assassin howls as his blade his knocked out of his hand by a book. He turns around in time to see a charging Marco.

He pulls his fist back but its too late: Marco slams into him, pressing him against the second floor railing and holding him place.

The assassin grabs at Marco but Marco lays into him, driving his fist into the assassin’s side over and over again.

The sounds of the bar are overwhelming though it doesn’t seem like anyone has noticed the two combatant fighting directly above them.

“Janna!” Marco shouts, flinching as the assassin knees his side but still managing to keep his hold on him “JANNA!”

Janna chuckles, swaying drunkenly as she yells in victory, hastily collecting her winnings from the disgruntled losers.

“JANNA!” Marco tries again.

The assassin jabs at Marco’s side, nearly getting free but Marco slams him against the railing again.

“DAMNIT JANNA YOU SUCK!”

Janna’s head snaps towards the source of the insult, her dull eyes slowly growing in realization.

“Ah shit!” she exclaims, raising to her feet “Da hell going on brav?”

“Janna, Star!” Marco gestured with his head towards the fleeing Star.

“Right” Janna gave an intoxicated salute.

“Oi” One of the players stood up “Sit back down. I wanna win my cash back.”

“Srroy.” Janna slurred “But I gotta go. Duty calls.”

“You ain’t going nowhere till I win back my money. Now sit.”

“No man” Janna glared “You sit”

Before anyone could react, Janna grabbed her winnings and tossed them into the air. There was a pause for a moment as the bills rained down across the bar.

“MINE!” A cry called out from nowhere, breaking the spellbound customers of their stupor and sending them frantically towards the fallen cash.

Janna shook her head disappointingly “So weak willed….right Star? Star….gotta stop Star...” Janna scratched her chin, glancing left and right in search of the elusive criminal.

Meanwhile, the assassin strikes furiously at Marco, each blow attempting to break his grip on him but Marco holds fast, blocking where he could and simply taking the less painful attacks.

“Tell me who you work for!” Marco shouted, pulling the assassin closer by his collar

“I’m a professional!” The assassin screeched before headbutting Marco.

Marco winced, stumbling backwards and loosening his grip on the assassin.

The assassin reached into his pocket, drawing another dagger as he straightened up.

“Ugh, of course you would have another one.” Marco gritted his teeth through the pain.

“Professionalism.” The assassin sneered as he moved his blade back and forth.

“Okay” Marco thought to himself “This is bad. Close range, nowhere to move with my opponent has a dagger, about 4 inches. Maybe if I retreated back into the room and get more space, I could fight him off. He’ll lunge at me and it’ll be the only shot I have to dodge him. Okay, I got this. Just wait for an opening and….”

The assassin took a step forward, prepping himself for his attack when….

A sharp whistle cut through the brawling symphony below, causing the assassin to flinch in surprise.

He turned in time to catch a frying pan directly to the face. He flailed uncontrollably, backing up against the wooden railing for support.

“What the…?” He growled, noticing a grinning Star waving at him with the kitchen utensil before pointing to the left.

Confused, the assassin followed the direction and found Marco racing at him full speed. He rose his arms to protect himself but it was too late: Marco tackled into him, cracking the railing behind him and sent him plunging to the room below. There was a thud and the sound of wood crunching as the assassin broke through a table.

“Nice of you to come back” Marco huffed, leaning on his knees for support.

“What? I needed a weapon.” Star motioned the pan in her hand.

“Star….I...”

Screams and the breaking of glass caught Marco’s attention. The two glanced downward only to find the assassin nowhere in sight.

Marco and Star shared a concerned glance before sighing tiredly.

________________________________________________________________

“3 minutes to boarding! 3 minutes to boarding!”

Marco shifted uneasily alongside the train car, conflicting emotions tugging at his resolve.

Since the unknown assassin had escaped into the night, Star felt it best to leave Echo Creek until the threat died down.

The trio stood outside the waiting train, the star twinkling over head. The train platform was nearly deserted though Marco kept a careful eye out in case their assailant decided to trail them from the bar.

“It was nice seeing you again Star.” Janna hiccuped, rubbing at the splitting headache she was nursing.

“Aww, it was great to see you too Janna Banana. You’re going do great on the test and you are finally going to be a real doctor.”

“Legal doctor” Janna corrected, smiling brightly at the blonde before tightly embracing her in a hug “Be safe.”

“Only for you.”

The two broke apart, Janna standing awkwardly between the detective and the outlaw.

She coughed uncomfortably “Right, I’m just gonna go….not be here.”

And with a cheery wave, Janna walked towards the station entrance.

“So...” Marco began

“Thank you” Star said with a loving softness “You still owe me two.”

“Two?” Marco scoffed “You owe me for Paris.”

“You owe me for Washington.”

“No, you caused Washington. I helped clean that up so really you owe me two.”

Star smiled playfully at him “Fine. I owe you two my sailor bold.”

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Marco whispered, unable to keep the plea out of his voice.

Star cupped and caressed his cheek fondly “Marco, I know you’ll keep me safe but it’ll be easier if I go away for awhile. Besides, you’ll know where I am. You always do.”

“Yeah….”

Star leaned forward, kissing Marco with softly Marco wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

“Train leaving the station! All aboard!”

The two parted slowly, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.

“Goodbye my sailor bold.” Star grinned mischievously.

“Goodbye princess.” Marco smiled sorrowfully.

Marco stood there in silence, watching the train shrink into the distance.

“So...” Janna cleared her throat “You ready to go home?”

Marco gave a simple nod before following Janna back onto the street.

“It’s too bad Star didn’t give you any leads to anyone who might want her dead. Would’ve been helpful”

“Right. Helpful.” Marco reached into his coat pocket, unsurprised to find a certain item missing from within and instead finding a small folded up piece of paper Star had placed there. He unfolded it, eyes narrowing at the word that she scrawled across its surface.

Toffee.

A lead but a dangerous one.

________________________________________________________________

“Excuse me miss, may I see your identification please?” The usher asked politely.

“Of course!” Star beamed, passing both her ticket and the false identity card she swiped from Marco’s pocket “I’m sorry, I was just deep in thought. I’m about to spend some time away from my husband and I already miss him.”

“Oh” The usher shifted uncomfortably “I’m sorry to hear that...” He squints at the card “…. Mrs. Diaz. I hope you see him soon.”

Star’s cheek flushed as she took back the card, her heart skipping at the sight of Star Diaz written on the paper.

“Me too.”

She sighed longingly, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the item Marco had snuck in. She smiles gently at the simple sliver wedding band with a note that said “For your disguise.”

She slipped the ring onto her finger, playing with it absentmindedly as she stare out the window, Echo Creek shrinking in the distance.

“Me too.”

#Star vs au #Sherlock AU

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