#okay really Gil is sitting around desperately looking for her

[softquietsteadylove]

If you have the muse for it, could we maybe get a circus au or life interrupted update? Missing those two lately! Thank you!!! 😘

"Gil?...Gil!"

"Huh?" he turned, ruffling his hair with his free hand. "Uh, s-sorry, what were you saying?"

But his friend just frowned, "you sure you're okay? I know you're a doc to the animals, but are you really qualified to diagnose yourself?"

Gil subconsciously shifted his arm in his sling. He was no expert, but he did know how to reset a shoulder. Granted, it was because of getting into fights in his school days, but still. "Yeah, it'll be fine, really."

He shrugged, picking up some of the coiled ropes, "y'know you can take it easy if you want. We can finish setting things up for tonight."

Gil nodded, looking around them. Technically, all he did was light stuff to help out here and there. He wasn't really a regular crewman. But he had hung around all morning on the excuse of checking on the animals and helping out wherever his one good hand could help. "You, uh, seen Thena yet?"

He heard a few quiet chuckles and blushed; everyone knew why he was hanging around. He was eagerly and desperately trying to get even a glimpse of Thena. He hadn't seen her since the night she had admonished Kro - and her beast of a husband had dragged her away by the arm - and he was going nuts.

Of course, no one else knew that she had kissed him, either.

He was lying awake at night! And part of it was the pain, but another part was thinking about how she had leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't just a mistake of a peck, either, it was a real kiss. He could feel how she meant it, no matter what that really meant for them. She was a married woman, and married to the man who was both their boss, in a way.

"No one's seen her," another crewman shrugged. "Assumed boss had given her some time, I guess."

It was a reasonable guess. She had suffered quite a scare, after all. But her husband was not a reasonable man, and Gil was confident in guessing that Kro would sooner put on her costume himself than give her a day of rehearsal off without injury.

Gil picked himself up and tugged at one of his suspenders. "Thanks guys, I'll grab some lunch I guess."

They sent him off with well wishes. He wasn't in any shape to do any of the usual heavy lifting he could be asked for anyway. But rather than go in search of the group lunch being cooked behind the main tents, he slipped away towards the train.

He hadn't seen Thena in two whole days. She had once said that Kro would never really hurt her, but that was the only time when Gil wasn't really inclined to have confidence in what she said. He didn't trust anything about Kro. And he was really trying not to let the kiss influence that thinking in him, either.

He couldn't let it. She was a married woman. Whether she had kissed him or not, it wasn't his place. And he was concerned about her regardless. This wasn't about him and his feelings, it was about making sure she was okay.

"Thena?" he whispered, sticking his head out and between cars and looking around like a common cat burglar. He crept around, picking his boots up lightly.

Maybe Kro had her chained up like a ruffian. Not that he really thought he would, but he wouldn't be as surprised as he would like to be by something so barbaric.

"Thena!" he whispered again, slowly making his way to their shared sleeper car. If he was found, Kro would probably feed him to the lions. But he had to know.

Once at their sleeper car, he checked around him one more time. He knew Kro was in the main tent, snapping his cane against the ring and shouting up a storm. No one had been able to ask how Thena was without getting a real earful.

Gil knocked on the door with his good hand, pressing his ear close, "Thena, are you in there?"

"Gil?"

She didn't sound hurt, or teary or anything. He gulped, "can...are you hurt? Can I see you?"

"I'm fine Gil, you can come in."

Part of him still imagined a nightmare in which he would walk in and find her on the floor, sitting crumpled like a bird fallen from the sky. But Thena was no fallen angel. He closed the door behind him as he saw her seated at the little table barely big enough for a single plate.

He had never seen her in a normal dress, but the soft, creamy fabric looked just like her hair.

"I'm sorry I worried you," she professed immediately, still sitting primly at the table. "Kro told me I wasn't to leave for the next two days. People should think I'm in recovery."

Which was very different from actually wanting her to recover from her fall, but it would make people think of the monster more favourably.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, still almost whispering as he dared to come a little closer. "Are you resting?"

She smiled at him, like having not seen him for days was completely normal and expected. "I'm resting fine. Kro has been bringing me food twice a day."

So, she was missing a meal, Gil surmised. He frowned, but that was the least of his worries. "Why won't he let you out?"

Thena's expression finally cracked, and he saw her eyes drift to his shoulder. "He asked if there was anything...with you."

The words she didn't say weighed a lot more than the ones she did, and Gil found himself flustered again. He had always known what his feelings for Thena meant. But he had thought it was a harmless crush on his unattainable and lovely boss' wife. The implication that she cared for him too...it was enough to have his stethoscope picking up his own heartbeat from ten paces.

"I assured him there wasn't," she looked down at the little table, tucking some hair behind her ear. "He said then there should be no reason I should want to leave."

There should be no reason for her to ask to see him--that was the threat that had kept her in here. If she asked to see him, or probably even ran into him accidentally, Kro would have grounds to suspicions. And Gil wasn't sure which one of them would face worse consequences for them.

Gil looked around the sleeper car. It was larger than the others, of course, or maybe it was just arranged neater. It had a small but proper bed, rather than just a cot and some hay. The little table, there was a trunk that probably held their collective things. There was even a little radio on top of it, as well as an oil lamp.

"It's not a prison."

He didn't feel comforted by that. She was unharmed, sure, in a physical sense. But sometimes animals could seem fine, then they'd give out the next day of a broken heart or some such. He moved even closer, even kneeling down to face her better (he wouldn't dare move the chair across from hers). "Birds get real down if they're in cages too much."

She laughed a little at the insinuation.

"Really," he whispered. Without him telling it to, his free hand drifted up to hers, feeling the softness of her pretty linen dress. "They're meant to be free. Clipping their wings...it seems harmless, but it really hurts them, even just a little bit, everyday."

Thena tilted her head at him, her hair slipping over her shoulder. She was so beautiful, and far too delicate for a cage like this.

Gil sighed as she brought his hand from resting over hers on her lap to her lips. In another life, he could imagine this would be a beautiful moment.

It was brief, but for just a split second, her lip wobbled. She whispered, "I wish I had met you a lifetime ago."

Gil's heart broke inside his chest. It fractured, just like his stupid shoulder. Oh, to have met her a lifetime ago. To have met her as a student, to have scraped and scrimped for pennies so he could buy her flowers and take her on swan boats on the lake. To have swooned over her everyday until he could kneel just like this and hold up an embarrassingly modest ring and ask for another lifetime.

He wasn't sure when it happened, but he rose from his knee, tilting her head with his palm and kissing her as if she weren't married. As if they had this lifetime to get it right. Which wasn't true, but it wouldn't be something he would regret, either.

Thena sighed against his lips, her hand moving to his hair. She kissed like she hadn't drank in days and he was an ice cold lemonade. "I wish I could love you."

He loved her anyway, wishes be damned. "Thena-"

She pressed her fingers to his lips, breaking the spell around them and forcing him a precious few inches away. "He'll be back soon. If he catches you in here-"

He gripped her shoulder, "I won't let him hurt you, Thena. Never-"

She grasped his hand between hers, "I am not worried about what he will do to me."

So, Kro had threatened him to get her to comply with his sick delusions of ownership. And Gil hated to admit it, but in his current state, he wasn't so sure he would in a fight against the ring leader.

His heart groaned in his chest, begging not to be separated from her. He made a face, "I can't just leave you like this."

She looked him square in the eyes, and the frosty, fiery acrobat he knew - and loved - was back. "You can, and you will--for both our sake."

She was right, he would because it would be best for her, if not both of them. But he didn't have to like it. He gave her hand another squeeze, even as he picked up his feet again. "When will he let you out of here?"

"I don't know," she whispered back, their hands dragging apart like lines of a frayed rope snapping string by string. "Until he's satisfied he has nothing to fear from you."

Kro had everything to fear from him, and as soon as his shoulder was better, Gil would see to it, too.

"I'll try and find you when he does."

He turned back to her, his hand on the car door. "Don't do anything risky. If he tries anything-"

Their eyes both shot to the side. It wasn't dangerously close yet, but it was definitely Kro's voice drawing nearer. Thena eyed him, begging him to leave before their lives were changed irreparably.

Gil nodded, dragging himself out and closing the door as quietly as possible. He held his arm as he slipped away, the muscles screaming at him like a storm was on the horizon. He stopped on the other side of the car.

"Well?"

"What?" Thena's softer voice came, but Gil was relieved to hear her usual sharpness in the demand.

"Usually you're begging to know how your little boyfriend is doing!" Kro barked at her. Gil heard the rattle of a container being tossed down, perhaps one of Thena's meals for the day.

"You told me to stop bringing him up," she fired right back at him. There was a pause before she added, "dearest."

Gil felt his gut clench. He had seen Kro use that term of endearment for her, and it never failed to make her squeamish.

"Very well then," Kro snarled back at her, "darling."

Gil waited a little more, but that seemed the end of it. And he had no choice but to leave it at that, at least for now. He dragged himself away, feeling just a little bit of a coward for it, too. His shoulder was aching again.

"Hey, Gil, you get some yet?"

It was lunch time. He eyed the pot of stew. Maybe that would be just the thing. "Say, will you do something for me?"

He was heard out as he explained that he was worried about Thena--heard she was on bed rest and all. It didn't come from him, but maybe - just if there were leftovers after everyone had their share - if someone could ask the boss nice and casual if Miss Thena would like it...?

Again, everyone saw right through him. But Thena was not her husband, and the crew agreed readily that they would ask in a very normal and friendly way if Miss Thena wanted any of their extra portions for the day. The lady needed her strength and all.

And Gil needed his too. The quicker his shoulder healed, the faster Thena could stop worrying about him, and the faster he could confront Kro about the treatment of his wife.

#Thenamesh Circus AU #thank you so much for the ask!!! #a little drama anyone? #a little angst? #pining???? #okay really Gil is sitting around desperately looking for her #He barely leaves to sleep or eat in case he misses a glimpse of her #now he's ready to romeo outside her sleeper car making sure she eats #Kro comes and goes at dawn and night slapping down bowls of bread soup for her #meanwhile Gil sneaks in and hands her his stash of peanuts #and THena is dying to see him of course #but Kro is like if I see you two within a foot of each other I'm calling the fuckin police #Thena agrees to be sequestered only for Gils' protection #becuase she knows her husband #and she just knows Kro will make him haul all sorts of heavy stuff #strain or even hurt himself #he'll bump into Gil's bad shoulder and oh go 'oh sorry forgot' #y'know like a huge ass hole #Thena: Gil don't do anything to make him angry #Gil: hey so what would you think if I beat your husband to death in the parking lot

[celiciaa]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

CHAPTER TWO.

A beast’s dream fulfilled by beauty.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

spoilers from gilbert's route.

minors and ageless blogs dni.

Lord Gilbert introduced me to a dog and a cat as potential friends.

(I honestly didn't see that coming…..)

Emma: Where did they come from in the first place?

Gilbert: They were originally kept at court. They lost their masters in the war.

(…..They've lost their masters in the war.)

It was easy to imagine Lord Gilbert protecting these sad animals.

Gilbert: They all want to be your friend.

Emma: I am happy. I really am, but you know it’s not it.

Gilbert: Ahaha, do you want that many friends? // Ahaha. Do you want to be friends with humans that badly?

Emma: Yes, I want to.

Gilbert: Even though I'm here.

Emma: Gil is my fiancé.

Gilbert: How about a fiancé and a friend?

Emma:….Are you really that jealous?

Gilbert: That's one thing, but I don't want you to get hurt.

Emma: Get hurt….?

Gilbert: There are two kinds of friends.

Gilbert: Either your friends betray you, or they don't.

Gilbert: And in my experience, most friends betray each other.

Gilbert: Your kindness will hurt you, you know?

Gilbert: But I'm the only one who can hurt you...right?

(….What happened in the past?)

Lord Gilbert normally says that he wants to be friends,

But he didn’t seem to trust friendships at all.

Emma: I have never been betrayed by a friend, have I?

Gilbert: You're talking about Rhodolite, correct?

Gilbert: But this is Obsidian, the land of deception and corruption.

Gilbert: Even your position is different. You are my woman, which means you are a member of the royal family.

Gilbert: So give up on making friends. // So give up on your friends.

I am not convinced, even though he says it with a fresh smile.

(Certainly, there were people in Rhodolite who changed their behavior just because I was friendly with Lord Gilbert.)

(But if you are afraid of that, you will always be alone.)

Gilbert:….You're a very poor listener.

Lord Gilbert held my chin with his cane——

I gasped as I looked into his beautiful red eye and he bit me on the lip.

(….Ouch.)

Gilbert: I'm just trying to protect you.

Emma:…You’re too overprotective.

Gilbert: Sorry for being so restrictive with my love?

Emma:……

Gilbert: But don't worry. I'll fill you up so much that you won't even think you want a friend.

His cane was still on my chin, as his cold lips pressed against mine, taking my breath away.

It was such a perfect kiss that even words of rebuttal were not tolerated.

(I understand Lord Gilbert is concerned about me.)

(….And that it won't change the way you think about friends.)

The kisses were so overwhelming that I desperately wanted it to stop,

In a corner of my mind, like Lord Gilbert, bad ideas began to sprout.

(——Okay, I got out.)

I took off the hood I had on my head and slipped into the bustling street.

I somehow made it to the town by using a loophole that Lord Gilbert had told me about before.

The purpose, of course, is to make friends.

(I'm sorry, Lord Gilbert, but for me it's a matter of life and death.)

I casually walked through the town of Obsidian.

Come to think of it, this may be the first time I have come here alone.

(Once again, it's a really nice town.)

I don't know the details of the former Obsidian's internal affairs but,

In the current town under Lord Gilbert's rule, the people's faces were shining, and I liked it as much as Rhodolite.

(I need to find someone I can be friends with as soon as possible——)

Woman: Kya—

Emma:….! Are you okay?

I catch sight of the fallen woman out of the corner of my eye and rush over to her.

The woman was probably on her way home from shopping and vegetables were scattered around her.

Emma: You’re injured. Can you walk?

The woman sits on a nearby bench and quickly gathers up the scattered vegetables.

Woman: I'm sorry.…thank you very much.

Emma: No, I'm glad it didn't turn out to be serious.

Woman: I'm always like this. I'm so clumsy….

Emma: Now that bad things have happened here, something good will surely happen next time.

Woman: When you say it like that, it really sounds like it could happen.

(This woman might be about my age.)

Woman: That’s right! Let me thank you for something.

Emma: No, I didn't do anything that big. // No, it's not that big of a deal.

Woman: You helped me, didn't you? There's a great pastry shop nearby.

Woman: I've been wanting to go too, so why don't you join me?

Emma:…Well then, can I take your word for it?

(An early opportunity presented itself.)

The feeling of being able to become friends makes me feel inwardly excited.

Pretending to be calm so as not to look strange, I handed over the vegetables that had been placed back in the bag.

The woman who received it suddenly looked at the ring finger of my left hand.

Woman: That ring is….

Emma: Oh, my fiancé gave it to me.

The ring with the black obsidian rose shining on it was given to me by Lord Gilbert at our engagement ceremony.

Woman: Obsidian….

Woman: I am terribly sorry!

Emma:….Eh.

The woman who suddenly changed her behavior bows deeply and leaves as if she were fleeing from a ferocious animal.

I was taken aback by what happened in a moment.

(….What? What happened?)

(This ring, you can't be serious!?)

???: Ahaha. You poor thing.

As I stood dumbfounded, a cold body embraced me from behind.

I was not surprised because the shock of the woman's escape was greater.

Emma:…Lord Gilbert, I don't understand.

Gilbert: Only members of the royal family are allowed to wear obsidian rings. // The obsidian rings are only allowed to be worn by the royal family.

Gilbert: You didn't know?

 ▸       [  previous / sweet / premium ]

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

[riven-hook]

Fire On Fire - Harry Hookxfem!

Love can be scary. I mean really scary, especially when the person you love the most is in consistent pain and dreaded thoughts cross through your mind. Well, that has happened to me before, but I am lucky enough to have the love of my life with me forever and always.

_

"Just don't set the castle on fire" I joked as I allowed Jay and Carlos to make a snack in kitchen. I walked out the door only to be greeted by the one and only Harry Hook. Nobody knows, but I have had a crush on this guy for as long as I could remember. We grew up on the isle together, my father, Hades, was never around or at least there for me so I spent most of my time on the pirate ship. I met Harry on the ship when I was about 4 years old and we have been best friends ever since, only 13 years later and into our ongoing friendship I've wanted to be a lot more than friends.

"Hey lass" Harry said, as he moved a piece of hair out of my face with his hook. "You look nice" he said with a wink. Harry and I always flirted, but never took it any further. I knew that he only saw me as his best friend and nothing more than that. I just wish I had some of that love spell, Mal had for Ben. Wait no, Y/n bad! You are not going to put Harry under a love.

The idea had crossed my mind a few times, but then the feeling of guilt always came over it. I couldn't do that to Harry. "Thanks" I said, smiling at him. "What are Jay and Carlos doing?" He asked, peeking in through the door. "Making a snack" I laughed as I watched Carlos, juggling with 3 glasses. We stood there for a few minutes just watching them trying to figure out the oven.

"You know, they'll probably figure it out, let's go and get some lunch" he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the door. We walked towards the cafeteria and saw Uma, Gil, Evie and Mal all sitting together at a table. We immediately walked up to them as Harry stole an apple of off someone else's plate. I gave him a frustrated look and he just sighed. "Hey, I'm still a villain" he said, shrugging and biting into the apple as we sat down next to our friends.

"Hey!" Evie said, as I sat down next to her. "Hi" I said as she pulled me in for a hug. We talked about random things with everyone until we were all caught up with what had happened since the last time we saw each other. Which I have to admit was 2 hours ago, but hey! We love out friends. Most of it was Harry and I flirting though. "Are you burning up?" Harry asked, with a concerned look on his face. "Now why?" I said, immediately putting my hand against my forehead to feel my temperature. "Because you look really hot" he said, smirking at me before winking.

I rolled my eyes and smiled to myself. If only he could say that as my boyfriend. "You two might as well date" Uma said, giving us both looks. "No way, she's my best friend" Harry said, frowning at Uma. I knew that he was going to say something like that but it really hurt when he did. I knew he only saw me as his best friend possibly even his sister but I just felt something inside of me crumble away when he said those words. I smiled and tried to hide how hurt I was. "Yeah, that would be weird" I quickly said.

Harry's POV

"Yeah, that would be weird" Y/n said quickly. As she said those words, I felt my heart shatter. How could I be so dumb? Obviously she only thought of me as her best friend and nothing more. Ugh! Why did I let my hopes get so high? I just wish she knew the way I felt about her without having to ruin our friendship. If I told her how I felt she would probably leave and go and find herself a Prince because that's was she deserves. Not some pirate who doesn't even know how to tell the time. (I got this from Descendants 2 when Harry puts the watch in Ben's face and says the wrong time)

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick" Y/n said, getting up out of her seat and walking out of the cafeteria. I nodded to her before she left and brushed my hand through my hair, thinking about what had just happened. Just then my thoughts were interrupted by the fire bell going off. We all looked at each other in shock as the fire bell had never gone off before it must have been really bad. "Everyone please leave the building now!" Fairy Godmother said through the intercom.

We were quickly evacuated by some school staff and out to the front of the school. The fire was bad and half of the school was already destroyed. We quickly walked over to a tree to make sure we were all here. "Gil, Harry, Mal, Uma, Jay, Carlos.." Evie said, pointing to each of us. "Where's Y/n?!" She quickly asked, scared. "WHERE'S Y/N?!" I yelled angrily as I started panicking. "She must still be inside!" Carlos said, worried. We all ran to the front of the building, next to the steps to see if there was any sign of Y/n.

We saw nothing, only smoke and flames as they burnt through the school. I looked around desperately, trying to see if she was with somebody else, but I couldn't see her. I looked at Uma with tears in my eyes and then at the school. She gave me a look and tilted her head. "Harry.. your not thinking what I think your thinking" she said, her eyes widening with fear. I stared at her for a minute before looking back at the school. I ripped of my red coat and hook and handed them both to Uma as I began running up the steps.

I immediately started running towards the burning building, and ran in through the "doors" coughing through the smoke. "HARRY!" I heard Uma and Gil shout and I heard my other friends screaming my name as well but I didn't listen to any of them. I had to find her

Y/n's POV

The room was filled with smoke as I was cornered in the room. I tried to cover up my mouth to prevent myself from coughing but it was no use. I turned around to see of there was way out and there was an open window. Perfect! I managed to climb out and get out safely before running to the front of the school. I saw Uma, Gil, Mal, Evie, Carlos and Jay but no Harry standing at the front with panicked looks on there faces.

"Guys!" I called out, running towards them. They all turned around and looked at me in shock. "Y/n!" The called rushing towards me. "Where's Harry?!" I asked, starting to panic. "He ran in to save you!" Uma yelled, a panicked look across her face. My eyes widened with fear as I looked at the school, desperately looking for him.

Harry's POV

"Y/N!" I yelled, coughing through the smoke and flames. I continued to call her name as I ran through multiple classrooms. I began to hyperventilate. My breathing became heavier as I inhaled more smoke into my lungs. Before I knew it, I felt my legs collapse beneath me and everything went black.

Y/n's POV

Tears streamed down my face as I cuddled up to Uma, she and Gil were also crying as there was no sign of their best friend. The fire station had eventually got here and put out the worst of the fire, 3 of them looking for Harry. "FOUND HIM!" One called. I immediately rushed to the front of the crowd, the rest of my friends not far behind me as I broke down in tears at Harry being carried by one of the men.

His clothes were ripped with black soot, smudged across him. He had blood dripping from every inch of his body and bruises on his face and arms. "Harry!" I yelled, sitting at his side. "Is he going to be okay?" I asked them, holding Harry's hand tightly. "As long as we get him to hospital straight away, he should be" the fireman said, giving me a warm smile.

1 week later

I hadn't left his side, Uma and Gil had been with me all day to make sure he was okay but we're told to leave. I however, begged them for me to stay, being daughter of Hades, I guess people still did fear me. I dipped my hand to my tear stained face and my grip on Harry's hand tightened. I wasn't letting ago until I was sure he was okay.

Just as a tear rolled down my cheek, I felt his thumb move over my hand. I immediately jolted up right and looked at him, hopefully. His eyes began to flutter open and he smiled at me. "Yer okay?" He said. "I'm okay? YOUR FUCKING ALIVE!" I yelled, launching my body onto him, hugging him tightly. "Don't ever do that to me again" I said, into his hair. "I won't" he said, calmly before I broke away and looked him in the eye. Without hesitation I pressed my lips against his in a kiss full of pure love. Damn I was so in love with this boy!

#harryhook prompts #harry hook #descendants #harry hook imagines #harry hook x reader #uma descendants #fanfiction #imagines

[squishablesunbeam]

Please Go.

Whumptober 2021 fill for “touch starved”

CW: broken bones, reference of baddies hurting Malcolm, bedridden, unhealthy thoughts about self, poor sweet boy Malcolm Bright, touch starved

Malcolm wasn't exactly good at accepting help, it wasn’t like that was a secret. He tried. He helped himself in little ways; every single day. Placed his little box of self affirmations front and center of his apartment as a reminder to try. To try to give himself a chance to be happy that day. It rarely worked, but he was trying, and Gabrielle says that's enough. He always wants to hide the little box away now, when people come over unexpected. Mortified at the outward display of his brokenness. But people never really used to come over at all. This was new. Having people that cared enough to check in on him, sit with him when he was hurt, or sick.

Even as a kid, his mother would hire outside help to make him tea and make sure he didn't pass out on the bathroom floor. It was nothing more than an extra expense, a minor inconvenience. It wasn't like Malcolm blamed her for it. She was a busy, shattered woman, pretending to be whole with a drink in her hand at 10am and pills rattling around in her pocket. Malcolm was just, too much, after his father was arrested. He knew that. It was okay really. He was used to it. He wasn't used to people staying though, baring witness to the pitiful, broken life of Malcolm Bright.

So, when JT sat at the kitchen island at 3am, after waking him up from another night terror, absently flipping through the little paper cards in the little box while Malcolm was supposed to be going back to sleep, recovering. Malcolm just couldn't handle it anymore.

JT turned at the quiet “please” and saw Malcolm, tears streaming down his face and a look of absolute shame and desperation. “Please...please stop. Just go. Please.”

JT furrowed his brow. What was he doing wrong? Thumbing through these silly little affirmations that actually seemed to brighten his mood. He looked at the cards and back at Malcolm. “I'm sorry, man. I, um, I didn't realize they were, um, private.” He tucked them back into their cute little home and placed them carefully back in their place. Lifting his palms up to show that he wasn't touching them anymore because Malcolm was still crying.

“Hey...” JT stood, stopping after one step at Malcolm's flinch and quiet groan as the movement shifted his wounds, “Hey, so...you clearly aren't okay but man, I'm not going anywhere.” He watched as Malcolm's face scrunched up and he dropped his head heavily back into the pillows.

“Please.”

He risked a few more steps, just trying to get a better look at the cacophony of emotion that bled over his friend's face. He didn't understand, but he wanted to. “Bright? Are you in pain? Do you need another pill?” Malcolm rolled his head back and forth on the pillow, eyes squeezed shut.

“No,” Malcolm lied, “Please leave.” JT could barely hear him but the desperation of the plea came through loud and clear. The kid looked about ready to crawl out of his skin, if he could move, finger's twitching and scratching against the light comforter. He was bandaged from head to toe practically. His knee immobile in the cast, ribs wrapped up tight and his arm firmly pinned to his chest in a sling and again, in a cast. JT leaving meant Bright would be left to fend for himself and he couldn't even imagine how painful just getting himself to the bathroom would be. No...no, he wasn't leaving. Obviously...right?

Bright had been quiet since they returned from the hospital, the doctors begrudgingly allowing him to leave significantly before it was time as long as someone stayed with him. Malcolm had insisted, he always does. But as it was, Bright looked so small, with his leg propped up on two pillows, his head turned towards the window and tears silently streaming down his face. He looked small, and terrified, and angry. JT suddenly felt like a fish out of water.

“Bright...”

“Just go!” Malcolm screamed, fist hitting the mattress, his face turned as far away from JT as possible and the outburst actually made JT flinch. He stifled a surprised huff...damn, he hadn't flinched in years, and this man, completely incapable of hurting him in the slightest at the moment sent his heart racing in his chest. Damn, he could face a dozen enemy soldiers and barely break a sweat, but one pissed of profiler…his friend, and what, JT freezes.

He should call Gil.

Malcolm was mortified. He couldn't stop himself. He just wanted to be alone! His skin itched and throbbed under the casts and bandages, his head hurt so bad he thought he'd go blind any second, but this was worse than all of that. He wasn't used to this! He didn't want to be cared for! To be seen! Not like this! He was so weak and pathetic. They'd caught him easily, back at the old warehouse. Hauled him out into the open, his team watching from under cover, and beaten him senseless. He was ready to fight, he was. But the crowbar to his knee shredded apart his waking reality, his vision sparked white hot and he dropped. They'd taken his arm, the one he kept trying to shield himself with and just, snapped it. Pulled it out in front of him, one hand on his wrist and one on his elbow. Malcolm could only watch in horror, the yells from his team washing over him, as the crowbar snapped his forearm in two. It all happened so fast. He remembers screaming, and then gunshots.

Malcolm had woken up to hands all over him, cupping his face, pressing his shoulders down against the cold, presumably bloody, floor. It was all too much. No one ever touched him anymore, except Gil. And Malcolm made a point to never touch anyone. Just the simple act of handing them lollipops sent a soothing warmth through his chest; it was enough. He'd never force it on anyone, a handshake, a hug, a bump with a friendly shoulder. He was always so genuinely shocked when it happened and it wasn't an accident; an electric warmth would wash across his body, coloring his cheeks. He'd stuff his hands in his pockets, now trembling even worse than before, a cruel reminder that his body wasn't made for that kind of contact. Clearly. It never felt fully safe. He was to used to the laughter that followed or the huffs of irritation at the annoying FBI profiler that was merely tolerated because they had to. His team was different he supposed; Gil was different. He was always just a little nervous around him at he office because he'd always drop a hand on his shoulder or give the back of his neck a gentle squeeze. Malcolm would just melt, brain shutting down, muscles bleeding away all the tension that he locked away there. It was so embarrassing. He never knew how to act. He'd drop his head and fight the overwhelming desire to turn into Gil's sweater and just cry against his chest. God, how pathetic. No, he shouldn't be touched. He was safer without it, more in control.

But hands found him anyway; picked him up and put him on the stretcher, poked his skin and stripped him bare as they wisked him away. Hands that trailed over his broken flesh, stuttered and stopped and kept going, rubber covered hands with that thin powder that smelled sharp and clean, like the tools they'd use to cut open his broken body. He cringed against the overwhelming sense of touch, tears slipping down his face as they assured him the pain would be gone soon, but that was never why he cried. They touched without warning, without permission, often without an ounce of compassion. Not that he wanted compassion, or pity for that matter, it was easier to handle without it. It was an invasion though, one he could never properly describe but he detested with every fiber of his being. God he hated the hospital. He wanted none of it. He just wanted to leave. Hurt in his own bed like normal. He just didn't expect them to actually stay, his team, to take turns listening to him scream at night. He should have, now that he thinks about it, but he didn't. Not at the time. He thought they'd get him settled, water and pills on the bed stand, and leave him to his misery. It's what he preferred, it's what he was used to. But JT was standing there, with that damned concerned look on his face, a witness to Malcolm's brokenness and there was nowhere to hide.

A knock at the door startled Malcolm out of the endless stream of his own thoughts. His head turned to looked at JT. “I'm sorry man,” JT said as he turned to open the door. Malcolm tried to get himself under control, very nearly breaking under the weight of another person coming into the room. Gil. It was Gil. Malcolm chocked out a sob and the damn broke. Gil was here. His body damn near screamed for him to crawl out of this godforsaken bed and right into his arms.

He watched through his tears as Gil patted JT on the shoulder and told him he could go home to Tally. JT nodded, giving Malcolm a small smile as he left quietly. Malcolm laid back as Gil came and stood at the side of the bed.

“Hey, kid.” Malcolm half laughed, choking on tears as relief flooded through him as Gil took his outstretched hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back as he shrugged out of his jacket, switching hands, never letting go, as he dropped the thick jacket from his other shoulder.

Malcolm groaned, trying to shift over when Gil placed a hand on the side of his face. Malcolm turning into the warmth, eyes closed, so red and swollen from the tears.

“Let me, kid.”

Gil shifted him over effortlessly, as if Malcolm weighed nothing at all, carefully supported his leg and making himself some room. He toed off his shoes and grabbed a throw blanket from the chair. Malcolm just laid there watching, tears finally starting to dry salty streaks down his face. His body ached, begged, to just be held, just let himself be held, for once.

Gil slid in next to him, covering himself with the quilted blanket Jackie had made for Malcolm so many years ago and tucked Malcolm into his chest. He held him tight, knowing it would take a few moments for Malcolm to fully let go, waiting for him to melt against him. Finally, finally, Malcolm sighed, accepting the arms around him and the man supporting all his weight. He tucked his face into the crook of his neck and just breathed.

Gil didn't say a word. He didn't have to. He just ran his fingers through the kid's hair and smiled softly when the trembling finally calmed. He kissed the boy's head, praying he would finally be able to rest.

#whumptober 2021 #no.6 #touch starved #prodigal son #malcolm bright whump #emotional whump #whump #broken bones #poor self image #gil arroyo #jt tarmel

[bartramcat]

Desert Palm

I was cleaning out my Docs and came across this. It's from over a year ago and was my impetuous hypothesis about post Dead Doll reactions to the revelation that was GSR. It's mostly dialogue, so an easy read. It probably contains a lot of Canon and character violations, but, since they never let us know how the team felt, I went with my gut. It's been an interminable week, so perhaps it will amuse someone.

Exterior Desert Palm Hospital. Catherine and Warrick are sitting on a bench in conversation.

W: You really had no idea?

C: No. I always knew she was special to him, but I thought it was more of a teacher-student thing. When she first came here, I thought they'd had a bad breakup in San Francisco, but then it wouldn't have made sense for him to ask her to come here.

W: Maybe it was student-teacher then.

C: I don't know. He saw something in her. I remember him saying she was someone he trusted. Boy she was young.

W: Do you think Ecklie will fire them?

C: I don't know. He's a fool if he does. God knows Gil's never been his favorite person. I never thought he would ever do anything that would put his job at risk. Not playing politics is one thing but violating a policy.

W: Are you upset with him? For not telling you? You've known each other a long time.

C: I was more shocked than angry at first. But after seeing how desperate he was out in the desert...It's so strange to say this about Gil, but I think he really loves her. I thought he was incapable of those kinds of feelings. 

W: What kinds?

C: Normal, I guess. The way a man loves a woman. That's why I thought the only kind of woman who'd interest him would be someone like Lady Heather. Oh..

W: What?

C: I went on and on to Sara about how I thought Heather was the only woman Gil was ever really interested in. I knew she looked uncomfortable, but I thought it was because she didn't want to think about her boss that way.

W: You didn't know.

C: No. Damn it. I wish he had trusted me.

W: You are hurt…

C: I'm okay. (Smiles) It's not like I found out he was a murderer. 

W: No. You found out he loves someone.

C: That sounds so strange. To be honest, I thought being a murderer more likely than Gil falling in love.

W: Yeah. Any idea how long they've been together? Did he say anything out there?

C: (Shaking her head) No idea. He didn't say much, but I could feel his panic. All he wanted was to find her.

W: So they may have been together for years.

C: I don't think she would have been dating that EMT a few years ago if they were together then.

W: Damn. I forgot about him. Gris didn't like him at all.

C: (Short laugh) No he didn't.

In unison--

C/W: He was jealous.

C: It feels good to laugh after the last day or so.

W: Yeah.

C: You know, they're a lot alike. They're both nerds. They probably understand each other on some strange socially awkward level.

W: (Laughs) When you put it like that, you're probably right.

Interior. ICU waiting room. Greg, Nick and Sofia are sitting. Nick and Sofia next to each other. Greg apart.

S: How on earth did we not know?

N: (Shrugs) We know Grissom. I didn't know for sure if he was even interested in women. (At their looks) Or men. Work and bugs.

S: (Laughs) Tell me about it.

N: You had a thing for him?

S: I was intrigued. I had never met anyone quite like him before. He asked me to dinner once when I got demoted by Ecklie.

N: Oh Yeah. He wanted you to find Grissom negligent in that old case.

S: He wasn't. I thought he might be interested in me afterwards. Turns out all he wanted to do was extol the virtues of being a CSI and not let Ecklie influence my judgment.

N: That's Grissom. 

G: Maybe he was already with Sara.

S: I don't think we'll ever know.

G: What do you think Ecklie will do?

S: He could fire them. I know from personal experience he has a vindictive streak.

G: So a psycho almost kills Sara, and he fires her? Doesn't seem right.

N: You know that isn't the reason.

G: In other labs, they could be married and still work together.

S: This isn't other labs.

They're quiet for a few moments.

N: They should have leveled with us.

S: You almost sound angry. Look I don't work with them as closely as you do--

N: He almost got her killed because some psycho figured out he was sleeping with her. (Softly) He shouldn't have been sleeping with her.

S: You are mad.

N: I don't know what I feel.

S: I think you love both of them separately, and you don't yet know how to think of them as a couple.

N: Yeah. Maybe. It's as if I never really knew either one of them.

G: They're still the same people.

N: You're all right with them being together?

G: I'm not going to judge them if that's what you mean.

N: You think that's what I'm doing?

G: Maybe. 

N: Do you think Grissom really loves her?

G: Yeah. 

N: What about Sara?

S: She's been in love with him for a while.

N: What makes you say that.

S: Let's just say that as a woman I picked up on certain vibes.

N: Not on his side?

S: No. I thought the same as you. That the man had no interest in a relationship with anyone. But I'm sure he loves Sara.

N: What makes you so sure?

S: I saw his face when the paramedics couldn't get a pulse. He was terrified.

N: So was I…

S: We all were. But--I can't explain it. It was as if the life was draining out of him.

Greg stands up and walks over to the glass, looks in.

G: She's still asleep.

N: Grissom still with her?

Greg nods.

N: So let me get this straight. You two are okay with the two of them being together?

S: I don't think they should lose their jobs if that's what you mean. 

G: You know how I feel.

N: (Throwing his hands up) All right. I guess I just have to get used to this.

Exterior. Catherine is pacing.

C:  Where the hell is Ecklie anyway?

W: How much do you think he knows?

C: I don't know. But Gil isn't making any effort to hide how he feels about her now. God I hope she's going to be okay. For his sake as well as hers. What was it he said? The only person he'd ever loved. Hard to believe a man can get to be 50 years old without ever falling in love. (Beat) Maybe he had no idea how to handle everything.

They're quiet for a few moments.

W: You said she was conscious when they brought her in.

C: Yeah. And Gil wanted to stay with her in the ER.

W: Is that what that nurse was telling you?

C: I'm glad Brass showed up and took him for a walk.

A car pulls up; Ecklie gets out.

E: I hear Sidle's been found alive. Is she going to make it?

C: We think so. They're still trying to get her stabilized. Nick and Sofia found her just in time.

E: Grissom rode the Medi-Vac with her?

C: So?

E: That's against regulations. I haven't seen all of the reports, but I heard that Natalie kidnapped Sidle to get back at Grissom for the death of her foster father?

C: That seems to be the consensus.

E: I heard Grissom almost lost it in interrogation.

C: I probably would have lost it too.

E: Are you covering for him?

C; Look, Ecklie, if you want to ask me something, just ask.

E: Where's Grissom now?

C: We don't know. Last I saw Brass was taking him for coffee.

E: Stokes and Sanders? 

C: In the waiting room. Sofia too.

Brass appears, sees Ecklie, hesitates, then approaches.

C: Any news?

B: She's out of the ER, but they're keeping her in ICU for the next 24 hours.

E: Where's Grissom?

B: With Sara.

E: In ICU? I thought only family..

B: She doesn't have anyone else. 

E: All right. Let's stop pussyfooting around here. I want you all to tell me how long Grissom and Sidle have been dating.

C: We have no idea.

E: You're covering for them.

B: No. She's not. I know for a fact no one of the team knew anything before this whole mess started.

E: What about you? 

B: I had my suspicions for a while. I only found out for sure about a few months or so ago.

E: And you didn't tell anyone?

B: Not my secret to tell.

E: It's a violation of lab policy.

B: Your lab, not mine.

E: How did you find out? They weren't messing around on the job, I hope.

B: (Glares at him) No. They're 100% professional on the job. I found out by accident away from work. That's all I'm going to say.

C: Do you know how long they've been together, Jim?

B: No idea. But I think it's been a while. You're going to hear it anyway, so I may as well tell you they're living together.

E: Well that's just great. Who told you that?

B: He did. When the ICU nurse told him he couldn't go in with her because he wasn't family, he told her they lived together, so he was her family.

E: They're not secretly married or anything like that?

B: I don't think so. If they were I think he would have said so. His emotions are pretty raw.

E: Good old fashioned shacking up.

W: Hey Ecklie. You don't have to be so crude.

Pause. Everyone seems to regroup.

E: So you're telling me no one else knew about them?

C: I swear I had no idea.

W: Me neither.

E: Don't tell me they've been together since he brought her here.

C: I don't think so, but you'll have to ask him.

E: I'm going to do just that. 

Ecklie starts toward the doors. Brass steps in front of him.

B: Not now.

E: He's broken so many rules. He needs to explain himself.

C: It's not the right time. He hasn't slept for 2 days. We were out in the desert all day looking for her. He's still worried sick about her. We all are. 

B: Forget the rules for once. You should care more about the people. Sara came within an inch of losing her life, and all you care about is lab policy?

Brass continues to block his path.

E: All right. Let's just go in and see how she's doing.

Interior. ICU waiting room. Nick and Sofia are still sitting together, talking quietly. Greg is still staring in through the glass. We see what he's looking at: a woman is lying in the bed with IVs in her; her left arm is in a soft cast. We see it is Sara. She appears to be asleep. There is a man in a chair sitting next to the bed, holding her right hand. It is Grissom. He appears to be talking to her, but we can't hear what he's saying. 

Ecklie, Catherine, Brass and Warrick enter the waiting room. Greg turns around and stiffens at the sight of Ecklie. Nick and Sofia look up at him, uneasily.

E: (Smiles sheepishly, as if realizing he's unwelcome) How's she doing?

S: They think she'll be fine in a few days. She's on fluids and pain meds. But she'll probably need surgery on her arm.

E: I understand you and Nick found her. How did she get out from under the car?

N: We don't know. But she was smart enough to take the mirror with her. I saw the reflection...otherwise…

E: You might have been too late.

S: She was starting to shut down.

During the conversation, Brass, Catherine and Warrick have moved towards the glass.

C: Looks like she's asleep. She is conscious?

S: Yes. She's conscious. They want her to sleep.

E: (Looking around) Where's Grissom?

Catherine nods towards the glass.

E: Still with her?

C: I don't think he's leaving anytime soon.

E: Look, why don't you all go home and get some sleep. It looks as if you're going to be a little short for a while.

N: (Blurts out) You're not going to fire them, because if you do, that would be so wrong.

E: I don't believe you people. They've been deceiving you, and you all act like I'm the bad guy here. There are rules people.

G: Stupid rules.

E: Didn't you used to have a crush on her? I think you'd be the last person to approve of her sleeping with her boss--and yours.

G: She's my friend. I'm for whatever makes her happy.

W: You keep trying to make it sound dirty.

E: I have one of my supervisors carrying on with one of his team for who knows how long. What would you call it?

S: We don't choose who we fall in love with.

E: You all sound like a bunch of hopeless romantics.

C: We don't have the happiest of jobs. Maybe it's nice to be talking about 2 people who love each other instead of people killing each other for a change.

N: Yeah, and we wouldn't even be talking about them if Natalie hadn't tried to kill Sara.

W: Look, Ecklie, we care about both of them. If they have found something with each other, we're fine with it. They both needed to find something. So we're good. You should be too.

E: I don't even want to think about all the cases they've compromised.

C: It's a lab policy, not a law. Other labs even have married couples working together. They've never compromised anything. If they had, don't you think one of us would have noticed?

E: You never noticed they were living together.

Greg, Nick and Sofia look surprised by this.

C: We look at the evidence in a crime. We weren't looking for a love affair. Their work has always been above reproach.

E: You all feel the same way?

He receives a chorus of Yeses and affirmative nods. Ecklie walks over to the glass and looks in. Grissom is still holding her hand. Ecklie turns back to them.

E: (Sighs) Well. I guess I'll figure out what to do about all of this later.

B: Good decision.

E: I still think you all should go home and get some sleep. Oh, good job everyone. Finding Sara I mean.

With that Ecklie leaves. They all watch him go.

C: He has a point. About sleep I mean.

W: Someone needs to pry Gris out of there. He needs food and sleep.

C: And a shower. Look, why don't you guys take off. I'll see if I can get him to go home after you leave.

Doc Robbins and Super Dave arrive.

R: How is she?

B: They think she'll be fine.

R: How's Gil?

C: You're not going to tell us you knew about them?

R: No. But I'm not surprised. 

C: You're the only one.

R: It's always been pretty clear they have a connection, but I didn't know. Now everyone does. The Lab grapevine is working overtime.

C: I'll bet.

Interior of Sara's room. She opens her eyes; Grissom smiles at her. She looks confused.

G: You're in the hospital. 

S: You stayed with me?

G: Yeah.

S: (Her eyes focusing; she sees the figures behind the glass) Is that the team?

G: They're worried about you. (Seeing her confusion, gently) It's okay. Everyone knows.

S: About us?

G: (Nods) I only want you to worry about getting well.

S: Aren't you worried what they think?

G: I don't care what they think. (Puts both his hands around hers, and squeezes her hand) All I care about is you.

Interior. Sara's room. Sometime later. She is asleep. Grissom is still sitting next to her in the chair; he is barely awake. The door opens, and Catherine enters. She has obviously been home. She is wearing fresh clothes.

C: Come on Gil. You need to go home and get a shower.

G: I don't think I should leave her.

C: You can barely stay awake. You don't smell great either. She'll be fine. Sleep is the best medicine.

He stands up and stretches a little; he looks at Sara.

C: The nurse said she'll call you if anything changes, but she's probably out of the woods. 

G: Okay. (Leaning down) I'll be back soon.

C: Go ahead and kiss her. I know you want to. (He shoots her a look then leans over and kisses her forehead.) Oh, Gil, my friend, you've got it bad.

G: (Confused) Got what bad?

C: (Laughs) You're such a dork.

Interior. Grissom's condo. The sound of the doorbell. Grissom appears. He is in clean clothes and is freshly shaven. He opens the door. It's Catherine.

C: You look a lot better.

G: I slept. I don't think I've ever been so tired.

C: Fear is exhausting. (He smiles slightly.) Gil, in all the time I've known you I think the past couple days were the first time I've ever seen you really scared.

G: I don't know what to say to you. In many ways, you've been about as close to me…

C: But you've never been in love with me.

G: No.

C: Well I've never been in love with you either. (She looks around, taking note of the plants and the pictures on the walls.) A woman lives here.

G: How?

C: It's decorated. Your idea of decorating is bookshelves and dead bugs. I was in your old place a number of times, remember? (Sensing his discomfort) Are you planning to marry her?

G: We've never talked about it.

C: A woman living with a man who doesn't bring up marriage?

G: I'm a lot older than she is.

C: I doubt she cares. 

G: Wouldn't you?

C: Not if I loved him. (She looks at him for a moment) Gil, if you're worried about your age difference, take it from me, there are much bigger considerations. If you can live under the same roof that's half the battle.

G: Battle?

C: (Smiles) You are so innocent sometimes. You have to fight sometimes.

G: (Contemplating) She was upset when I took my sabbatical and…(almost accusatory) what did you tell her about me and Heather? 

C: If you'd been honest with me about your relationship, I wouldn't have told her anything.

G: Whatever you think about my relationship with Heather, you're wrong. I've never been in love with her. I've never slept with her either.

C: I find that hard to believe.

G: Everything isn't about sex.

C: You can't deny your fascination.

G: I'm fascinated by a lot of things. We have a connection, yes, but so do you and I. She sees things other people don't.

C: What things?

G: She reads people in ways I wish I could.

C: She reads you?

G: She knew how I felt in 2 minutes.

C: About Sara?

G: (He's said too much.) Yeah.

C: I wish I had.

Catherine looks around the condo again. There are so many little feminine touches. Sara really does live here. Feeling contrite--

C: Is Sara still upset? About what I said?

G: No. (He seems someplace else for a moment) I want to get back to the hospital. Have you seen Ecklie?

C: Don't worry about Ecklie. 

G: I have to worry about Ecklie. He's been looking for a reason for a long time. He has one now.

C: You worry about Sara. We'll handle Ecklie.

G: I don't understand. I thought you were mad, you know--

C: Gil, I'll probably never understand you and Sara, but I don't think you should lose your job for loving someone. Come on. Let's get you back to the hospital.

Catherine walks out. Gil stares after his friend for a moment, smiles, and follows her out.

#csi #csi las vegas #gsr #catherine willows #jim brass #warrick brown #greg sanders #nick stokes #sofia curtis #conrad ecklie #al robbins #gil grissom #sara sidle #fanfic #dead doll

[descendantofthesparrow]

Multipart commission - Harry Hook x reader - A Prince Behind the Pirate - part 7 - its going down

@musicarose​

=

In the night and most of the day you had been locked in the brig, you were surprisingly….not treated like dirt? You honestly had expected mals little stories of Uma to be true, treating her prisoners as if the weren’t even worth the bottom of her shoe, letting her crew torture them.

But the entire time you had been there, nothing really happened, they gave you back your bag and all its stuff inside (with one or two granola bars missing, courtesy of Gil) and had tossed you a pillow and blanket.

All in all, it wasn’t a horrible experience that Mal had foretold, actually, Uma was being….accommodating? and you had to say, Gil was a very entertaining guard.

You laid on your back as you watch Gil deal the Uno cards, his tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly. “okay there, now, 7 each right?”

You nodded and watched as he tossed cards through the bars to you. “what are yeh gilly weeds doin’?” a confused Harry said from the top of the brig stairs, he….looked like a normal teen, his large red jacket was missing from his shoulders, he was now wearing a plain white t-shirt and black-grey sweatpants with some old repaired converse.

“uno! It’s a card game from Auradon, wanna play?” Harry sighed and looked to the ceiling, before shrugging. “sure im bored and can’t sleep”

He slid down on the wall next to Gil, holding out his hands for cards. Gil dealt him out the 7 and then turned to you. “what were the rules again?”

“match the color or number, 7s you can switch cards with whoever you want and 0’s are everyone switches hands, you can stack plus twos and fours, and you can jump in if you have the exact same card”

You flipped the first card down, Gil going next and Harry following.

It was a while before the chaos started.

But booooy Harry was funny when he was mad.

“HOW FEKIN DARE YEH GIL!! I ONLY HAD ONE CARD LEFT AND YEH BETRAY MEH LIKE THA’?” you were laughing your ass off as gil just smiled smugly as Harry screamed at him.

“it's just part of the game Harry!” Gil laughed, leaning back and grinning like the Cheshire cat. Harry pouted and crossed his arms, glaring at him, eyes drifting to you, who was still giggling.

“i-I cant breathheheh!” you cackled, feeling tears run down your cheeks, you cracked open your eyes, seeing Gil beaming down at you while Harry had his….look on his face “s-sorry” you breathed deep, trying to calm down before bursting into another fit of giggles.

“you-you good lass?” Harry had opened the door to your cell awhile ago, so he leaned over and rubbed your shoulder, you nodded and stopped laughing for a moment, staring into Harry's blue eyes….before bursting into ANOTHER fit of laughter. “yer very giggly aren’t yeh” he chuckled

“i-im so-sorry” you cried, your stomach was starting to hurt “Its-its always hard for me to stop laughing” Gil let his own set of laughter lose, sitting up from his spot on the floor and helping you sit up.

“I've learned laying down doesn’t help stop the laughter” he offered, holding you in place as you finally gained control of your breathing.

“t-thanks” you sighed, waving your hands in your face to cool yourself down.

“you’re welcome” Gil chirped, picking his cards back up and nodding to you “your turn right?”

“y-yeah” you picked your cards up and tossed down a +4, jumping in on your own card. “plus-four Gil” Harry cackled

“haha! Revenge yeh gakit!” Gil rolled his eyes and took his cards. Harry smirked at you, slamming down a + 4 and cackling. You just mock laughed and smacked down your OWN +4.

“hahahaha ha~” Gil laughed, putting down ANOTHER + 4 “take 12 Harry!” Harry just stared down at the card, he dropped his cards and stood, giving you and Gil the middle finger and stomping back upstairs and to his cabin.

You and Gil glanced at each other and burst out into laughter.

=

Uma and you just kinda….stared at each other as noon rolled around “what the hell happened last night?” uma cocked her hip and raised her brow.

“We played Uno and Gil plus twelved harry” you shrugged, Uma just looked more confused.

“uh…okay whatever” Uma muttered, scratching her neck “Let's hope your little friends come for you huh?” you nodded, pursing your lips and looking around.

“so what do really want with the wand?” Uma sighed, deciding to just lay it all out.

“be free? That’s it mostly, it sucks here, rotten food, I have to sew all my clothes an-“

“hold the fu*k up” you stopped her, staring at her with wide eyes “ROTTEN FOOD!??!?!”

Uma just stared at you confused “uh yeah? The barge just sends all your leftovers? You didn’t-“

“NO I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT IT HOLY FUCK IM GONNA KILL ADAM MYSELF!” you screamed, “HE LIED TO US, HE TOLD US YOU GUYS WERE GETTING FRESH FOOD AFTER THAT SCANDAL 15 YEARS AGO HOLY FU*K!!”

“w-what scandal?” Uma muttered. You blew your hair out of your face more dramatically than you usually would have.

“a lot of people found out that the isle wasn’t getting ANY good food so they got mad and made him start sending fresh food and assuming you're not lying, he just dropped it as soon as everyone stopped paying attention!!!”

Uma groaned and face planted “I think I remember the small time of fresh food….i think it was like half a year and that was it.” Uma was genuinely surprised at your anger “so you really didn’t know about the whole rotten food thing?”

“i-I don’t think even Ben knows! King asshole is still in charge of the isle…stuff so hes been hiding it from Ben! Im sure if Ben knew, you all would have been eating actual food as soon as he became king”

Uma sighed and rubbed her forehead “This is just one big ol’ mess” she looked over your shoulder and yelled out to Harry “get her to the plank, im sure they’re almost here” she looked back at you for a moment.

“….you won't be going over don’t worry about it” she muttered, sighing loudly as she walked to the gangplank.

Harry walked over and untied you, looking from Uma to you “what did yeh tell ‘er?”

You didn’t answer, looking down at Harry's arms, realizing that he was much…smaller that you thought he would be.

As if he never got enough to eat, you knew if you grabbed his wrist your fingers would touch. Harry frowned as you looked at his arms, forcing you to turn around and push you towards the plank.

“jus’ walk lass” you obeyed and simply walked to the plank.

As the vks arrived, including Ben and Lonnie, Uma got excited, bouncing around and jeering at Mal.

“Finally~! Let's get this started shall we?”

A few minutes of negotiations went by, most of which you stood on the plank, Harry's hand gripping your shoulder to keep you from losing your balance.

“now why would you give me a phony wand?” huh? How did Uma-

Mals jaw dropped and she looked over to you with betrayal in her eyes “you-you told her!?!” Uma let out a cackled, grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

“nope~ you just did~” she nodded her head at Harry, who stared to guide you backward and back to the brig.

“hey- what!?”

“you didn’t go through with your half Malsy, why would I go through with mine?” Uma laughed, gesturing for her crew to advance on Mals, driving them back to the garage.

“we’ll be sending our demands later beasty boy~” Uma cooed, giving him a sharp grin as he looked to you desperately, you sighed and started to head back to your cell. Harry was just behind you, making it seem like he was forcing you back down to the brig.

Something bugged at the back of your mind….maybe you being stuck here would shed light on the isle and in the end, Uma would get what she wanted in a way without the wand or destroying Auradon in the process.

--end of part 7--

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[gifted-burnout-archive]

Jim’s Best Friend

Part Fourteen - There’s a Hole in the Wall

Word Count: 2714

Author’s Note: So I wrote all this, and then remembered that during this episode Dwight was working at Staples... So, variation on the story! Dwight never quit. Ok, with that settled, enjoy! (And did I make all you readers a lil gay? Yeah, I fucking did. Enjoy it. In this reality, you like girls and Jim Halpert and good for you!)

WARNING: angry Andy, discussion of sexual orientation (?), kinda cheating...

April, 2007.

The last few weeks had been crazy, and you hadn't really had a second to catch your breath. Between moving into a new flat and adjusting to your new workload, you hadn't had much of a chance to do anything with Pam or Jim. In fact, Jim was sort of, not talking to you...

You came in to work one sunny April morning to find Pam putting up a banner behind her desk, and you helped her off the counter once she was done. She smiled, and both of you examined the sign:

Welcome Back Oscar

"That's today?" You asked, and Pam nodded, giving you a quick hug hello.

"Yeah, did Toby not send you the email?" Pam asked, and you shook your head. "Oh! Maybe he hasn't added you back to the list..."

"I'll chat with him today about it." You assured her, and you both stood quiet for a moment. "Do you want to come over tonight? I just... We haven't hung out in ages."

"Oh my God yes, please. I didn't want to ask until you were properly settled in." Pam breathed out, and you grinned, walking over to your desk in a much better mood. Jim and Karen arrived in the office, by Dwight's stopwatch, 6 minutes and 13 seconds late. You smiled at Jim as he sat down, and while he smiled back, no words were exchanged.

Your phone rang, and after checking the area code number, you cleared your throat and answered.

"Esta es la oficina corresponsal extranjero de Dunder Mifflin, Y/N hablando. ¿Cómo puedo ayudarlo esta noche?" You said quickly into the phone, to be met by a loud exhale from Dwight across the table. You looked up from the phone, raising an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to try it again. "Si lo veo..." You glanced at the clock, listening to the Spaniard on the phone ramble about an issue with an online order, all while Dwight started to, very loudly, sharpen his collection of pencils. "Un momento, por favor." You said quickly, holding the phone to your chest and looking at Dwight.

"What?"

"Keep it up, Schrute, and I'll hurt you." You warned, only to receive a laugh in response. You looked around the office quickly, a surveillance check. "You don't speak Spanish, do you Dwight?" You asked, and Dwight shook his head. "Exactly, that’s the whole point... Stop what you're doing, meet me in the breakroom in ten minutes... Make sure we aren't watched." You whispered loud enough to peek Jim's interest, before returning to your call.

"Perfecto, lo trasladré de immediato. Gracias por su patiencia." You finished the call, transferring the client to the Rochester branch after five minutes of trying to talk him through the terrible set up of Dunder Mifflin's online presence, and you looked up from your phone to see Dwight had disappeared.

"He's scouting the breakroom..." Jim said quietly, and you glanced over at him, a goofy smile on his face as he typed away at his computer.

"So, you're talking to me now?" You responded, keeping a low voice, pulling up your email to get in touch with Rochester, and IT. The shitty website would, sooner or later, lose the company big clients.

"Was I not talking to you?" Jim feigned innocence, but you rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the monitor, prompting him to sigh. "Okay, I kind of was, but I'm sorry and I would really like to help with the whole Dwight thing..." He pleaded, clearly bored out of his mind. Jim's pranking habits had certainly dimished a little, and by the desperation in his eyes, he was in withdrawal.

"Deep cover... I'm actually Agent Robin DeMarco with the CIA, here to monitor Dunder Mifflin for a spy implanted by the Russians... After he was compromised at Christmas, Pam told me all about that one, good job by the way, I was sent in to replace the returning Y/N Y/L/N, who is currently in Barcelona on holiday. Keep him safe, prep him for a new mission." You explained, and Jim clapped his hands together, biting his lip.

"Wow... Pam, you want in on this?" He asked, and Pam nodded from her desk, still on the phone. You sent off the email and looked at the time, about to leave for the pranking when Karen sat on your desk.

"How can I help?" She asked, and you stopped for a moment. You hadn't thought of her being involved at all, and a part of you didn't like her intruding on the joy you shared with Jim and Pam. You shook it off quickly.

"Oh! Yes! Ok... Wait, I got it." You grinned. "Would you like to be the Russian spy?" You asked her, and Karen's smile turned micheivous. She coughed a little, and took a deep breath.

"Why, I would love it." Karen said in her best Russian accent. "Oh, wait, let me learn something in Russian." She ran back to her desk, and you stood up from your desk, heading through the kitchen and to the break room to find a pacing Dwight.

"Sit." You said in a deeper voice than usual, closing the door behind you as Dwight sat down. "What I say must be kept confidential, Agent Schrute. Do you understand?" You walked to the vending machine, slotting some coins in and getting yourself a chocolate bar.

"But... How could you... Are you-"

"Agent Robin DeMarco, CIA. I've been in deep cover since "Y/N's" return." You said with a sigh, trying your hardest to not crack up. You turned to look at Dwight. "Didn't you find it odd that your old coworker came back from Europe skinnier?" You asked, sitting across from him.

"They do have a very carb-heavy diet over there."

"I have been surveilling this company for months now, Dwight. We got tipped off that there was a spy based here, in Scranton." You looked around quickly. "We had to make sure you weren't going against your country."

"I would never!" Dwight said, outraged, and you shushed him quickly. He hunched over. "I thought I was compromised..."

"You are, one of your coworkers is a spy Dwight. We believe they intercepted our messages before Christmas." You couldn't quite grasp how easy it was to fool Dwight, but it was entertaining nonetheless. The door suddenly opened, and you sat up straight, turning to look at Karen. She walked in, a swagger in her step as she smirked at the pair of you, getting herself a packet of chips.

"Я надеюсь, что вы рады возвращению Оскара. Дуайт идиот." Karen muttered under her breath as she left, and you shared a shocked look with Dwight, which was only half fake. You couldn't quite believe that Karen had managed to learn something in Russian in the last ten minutes.

"Was the spy in anyway Russian, Agent DeMarco?" He asked, and you nodded slowly.

"We have to keep this hush hush for now Dwight... This is dangerous stuff... Threat Level Midnight." You couldn't help but add it in.

"That's a real threat level?" Dwight asked, and you took a bite of the candy bar you had bought.

"Indeed... We had considered Michael for a time as the spy because of his knowledge." You whispered, standing quickly and walking to the door. You turned back in as movielike a fashion as possible. "You are now an active agent, Schrute. Keep quiet, watch closely... And don't fuck this up. We don't know who to trust anymore." You warned him, and he stood up, saluting as you walked back through to the main office, highfiving Karen on the way back to your desk.

--

By lunchtime, you had managed to convince half the office to get in on it and really boost Dwight's paranoia. With Karen playing the villain, constantly coming over to Jim and flirting with him for the sole purpose of giving you and Dwight cruel looks, everybody involved took on roles. You established Pam as a confidante via an email to Dwight, Jim was a suspected conspirator, Phyllis, Kevin and Meredith agreed to talk in hushed voices in the corner while looking at Dwight, and when Oscar arrived back, Pam filled him in on the ongoing prank, to which he happily agreed to speak constantly in Spanish to you while Karen glared over.

The mass conspiracy was brilliant, and as the end of the day rolled around, Oscar had told you all about his extended leave: mentioning amongst tales of London and Berlin that he went with his partner Gil.

"Wait... I didn't know you were gay." You said, in Spanish, after Oscar recounted a rather romantic trip to the Effiel Tower. He looked surprised, and then a little worried. You hadn't been around for the fiasco that was September. You quickly realised the worry, and sat up straight. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that-"

"No, I get it. It's hard to wrap your head around..." Oscar said with a sigh, disheartened by the reaction. You quickly decided to save yourself from losing a friend on their first day back.

"No, Oscar, honest. I'm not straight." You quickly cleared up, causing Oscar to look up in surprise. "Guys and girls... That's me. Girlfriend in Spain for, like, five months." You added, glad the office surrounding you was so bad with languages. Oscar laughed, giving you a tight hug, which you reciprocated.

"Hey! Why does Y/N get to hug you?" Michael called from his office, and Oscar pulled away.

"Does he know?" Oscar asked, the pair of you continuing in Spanish, and you shook your head.

"Jim and Pam do, but otherwise, I am straight to the office." Oscar nodded, and the pair of you glanced at the clock. "Almost party time..." You muttered, switching back to English, and Oscar stood up.

"I'll talk to you later, DeMar-Y/L/N." Oscar corrected himself, looking over at Dwight. Your desk mate had been entranced by your entire conversation, though he wasn't the only one.

Across the room, Andy had been desk sharing with Oscar for the day, and trying to translate every word you had spoken that day in the foreign language, and was more than freaked out by the mumbles that had been going around the room, intended to cause paranoia in Dwight. Not only that, his day had been pretty terrible since Michael shot him down on weekend plans, and Andy was convinced the whole world was against him.

He came over to your desk as the clock hit 5, the office shutting down for the party Angela had set up with the help of Pam and Phyllis, pinatas and all.

"You know, a workplace with secrets is no fun, Y/N..." Andy sat against your desk as you closed down your computer. "So, what have you been talking about all day?" He asked, and you shrugged, catching Jim sending you a wink behind Andy's back.

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on. You and Dwight have been sneaking off to empty rooms, the oldies have been congregating on the hour, Pam keeps sending you and Dwight faxes, Jim and Karen keep staring around the office. What are you hiding from me?" Andy asked again, and you shook your head, holding back a laugh. Jim decided to torment you, making faces behind Andy's back, and you couldn't help it.

You laughed in Andy's face.

Now, you had heard reports of how Andy could get a little heated sometimes. You had seen a least one very angry phone call, yourself. However, you really didn't expect him to start shouting in your face.

"REALLY?!" Andy yelled back, and the whole office stopped what they were doing. "Why don't you just tell me what's going on, huh? Are you all plotting against me? Is that it?!" He was loud, and you could feel yourself panicking, and you couldn't help it as you began to hyperventilate. Jim's face went from shock at Andy's actions to concern for yours.

"Andy, it was a prank on-" Jim began.

"On me?! You thought you could prank me, Halpert, huh?" Andy yelled louder, and Michael came out of his office.

"What is this? Y/N, are you ok?" Michael asked, noticing how pale you were.

"No! I'm the victim here! You are all talking about me in foreign languages, thinking I'm stupid?! I'm the best sales person here! And all this? It's not funny! It's pretty freaking unfunny!" Andy screamed to the room, his anger finally collecting in his fist, and a loud thud caused you to jump, gripping onto Michael's arm.

Andy had punched a hole in the wall. A full-on hole.

The silence that followed was deafening, and no-one moved. Andy removed his hand from the damage site, and chuckled nervously as he turned to the room.

"That... Was a bit of an overreaction... Sorry about that." He smiled as he spoke, but no-one responded. "I'm gonna head to the break room... Anyone want anything? Pam, you good? Kevin? No?"

"Dwight, pack up Andy's stuff... You, in my office. We need to make some calls. Someone get me Toby... Everyone else, enjoy the party." Michael said, giving your shoulder a squeeze and gesturing for Andy to head into his office. He did, with his head hanging down and his shoulders slouched, much to Dwight's delight. He never liked Andy.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Jim was the first to speak up, and you nodded silently, smiling to reassure him.

"Let's... Let's just celebrate Oscar's homecoming." You said with enthusiasm, trying to lighten the mood. "Meredith!" You called over the office, the redhead looking up as you got her attention. "Do you have any tequila, by chance?" You asked, and she held up a bottle. "Great, the work day is over, let's make margaritas and stereotype an entire culture. You good with that, Oscar?" You asked, and Oscar let out a laugh, nodding.

"I could use a drink." He admitted, and the office slowly migrated into the conference room, eating and idly chattering away the sudden events that had transpired. You really didn't know how to feel about it all, when Dwight came over, sombero on his head and a glass of milk in hand.

"So, who was Andy working for? I always suspected he was an agent..." Dwight whispered in your ear as you took another shot, causing a smile to spread over your face. Dwight still believed it.

"Keep your ear to the ground, Schrute... I have to meet with an associate." You lied quickly, grabbing Jim's arm and pulling him out of the conference room and into the hall outside the office, falling into giggles as the front door closed.

"Is... Is everything ok?" Jim asked, worried you were processing trauma in an unhealthy way.

"Dwight is... He still thinks...." You couldn't help but start laughing again, this time Jim joined in. And stood alone in that hallway, laughing together about Dwight's incompetence, all the fear of Andy's outrage faded to nothing, and you felt safe. Secure. And that smile on Jim's face, the crinkles by his eyes and the way he held onto the wall for support because he couldn't quite control his balance.

You would never be sure if it was the tequila talking, or something else that you had buried deep down in the name of friendship, but you decided in that moment to kiss Jim. Your lips on his, soft and sweet, and while Jim was frozen still at first, he kissed back, his hands going to your waist and yours resting on his shoulders, needing to stand on tip toe to reach him. It only lasted a few seconds, and he pulled away, leaving you lightheaded and heart fluttering.

"I shouldn't..." You began, but Jim shook his head.

"I have to go." He said quickly, walking back into the office, back to his girlfriend, and leaving you alone to wonder what the fuck you had just done.

--

Tags: @imsuperawkward​ @rosie2801​ @onceuponahuntersrealm​ @poppirocks​

#au #jim halpert #michael scott #pam beesly #dwight schrute #the office #jim halpert x reader #jim x reader #office au #reader #reader insert #reader is female #reader is bi? #romance #friendship #pam and jim #jim and pam #slow burn #from season 1 #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #john krasinski #steve carell #jenna fischer #rainn wilson #jackryanplz #part fourteen #queue

[set-phasers-to-whump]

“i wish i had never given you a chance”

prompt: “i wish i had never given you a chance”

whumpee: malcolm bright

fandom: prodigal son

hi hi hi! i hope you like this fic! it is set before jessica finds out about ainsley killing endicott, so earlier this season. it’s a bit different to the stuff i have written before and idk how i feel about it but tbh i had a fucking fantastic time writing it, it’s literally the first time i have ever written martin and he was super fun to do but maybe ooc bc i havent written him before. idk. hope you enjoy!

“I…got rid of Nicholas Endicott.”

“You what?”

“I mean, not got rid of him got rid of him, he was...all I did was chop up his dead body and get it shipped away.”

“But someone else killed him?” He nods, swallows roughly. 

“Ainsley?”

Another nod. He looks at Gil carefully, waiting anxiously to see some kind of reaction on his face. 

Gil just stares at him. “You hid a body for your sister. You covered up a murder.” 

“Y-yeah. I didn’t...Gil, I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe call the police? Say, hey, my sister’s a murderer? But no. That thought never even crossed your mind, did it? I bet the only thing that crossed your mind was that you were jealous Ainsley got to kill him, and not you. Is that right? You wish you’d killed him, don’t you? You wanted to do it. To feel his blood on your hands while it was still warm. To -”

“No!” Malcolm interrupts, feeling his hands start to shake. “No, I didn’t want to be the one that killed him! I’m not a murderer, Gil, and I have never wanted to be! You know that.” 

“I do, do I? And you’ve never wanted to kill anyone?”

“No. Gil, I swear I’ve never -”

“I don’t believe you,” Gil interrupts, and he walks in a slow circle around Malcolm, like he’s evaluating him. He comes to a stop in front of Malcolm’s face after making a few circuits. 

“I think you did want to kill him. I think you enjoyed butchering his dead body. Do you know what I really think, Malcolm?”

Malcolm shakes his head, helpless against the onslaught. 

“I think that you’re just like your father. I think he should’ve killed you when he had the opportunity. I think I never should have taken you under my wing. I wish I had never given you a chance. Look where it’s gotten you.”

Malcolm’s crying now, hands trembling at his sides. It’s not true, none of it’s true, I did it to protect my sister, I did it for Ainsley…why can’t you understand?

Gil reaches out and pushes him away, and Malcolm feels himself falling, falling, falling, hears his voice echo above his head with a scream that seems to last forever and - 

And then he’s jerking awake in bed, his wrists pulling at the restraints as he flies up into a sitting position. He spits out his mouthguard and fumbles with shaking hands to undo his restraints. 

When he’s free, he doesn’t move, just sits curled up, chin to knees, in the middle of the bed. He tries to take deep breaths, tries to get his mind into some semblance of order, but he’s terrified, and the worst part is, it’s a completely logical, possible fear. Gil is going to find out, going to find out that Malcolm is an accomplice to murder, that he’s hidden it from everyone for all this time, that he really is no better than his father. 

He doesn’t know who to turn to. Obviously Gil is off the table, as is anyone else connected to the police. His mother doesn’t know, Ainsley thinks he did it, his father...he doesn’t really want to talk to him about this. But he can’t stop shaking, can’t stop the tears pouring down his face, can’t control his ragged breathing, can’t do much of anything on his own. 

He calls his father. 

“My boy? It’s nearly three in the morning. Not that I’m not always glad to hear from you, but - Malcolm, are you all right?” He takes a shuddering breath, sniffs, speaks quietly, in a shaking voice. “I can’t...I don’t have anyone else to call.”

“What about your mother? Or one of those people at the police station? Ooh, wait...is this about the...the thing?”

“Yes.” This was not a good idea. What in the world is Martin Whitly going to be able to do for him? It’s not like he’s an expert in feeling guilty about murder. 

“Did someone find out? Oh, was it Gil? Please don’t say it was him.”

“No, no one found out. Yet.”

“Ah, so it’s the yet that’s worrying you.”

“I can’t - I don’t think I can keep doing this. I mean, Ainsley’s starting to question it. What happens when she finds out? What happens if someone else finds out first? What if Gil finds out -”

His voice breaks on the last question, and he stops talking, considers hanging up completely. 

“Nobody has found out yet. That’s not saying they won’t, but between you and me, I am something of an expert at this. But, look, Malcolm, we’ll figure it out, okay? No matter what happens. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Of course there is, Malcolm thinks desperately. It’s killing him, being alone with his father in this terrible secret. But there’s quite literally no one else to turn to, and it’s horrible, this neverending fear that the next thing someone says is going to be about Endicott’s murder, and him, and then Gil is going to say those words from his nightmare, and he is going to lose every single person he loves because he was trying to protect one of those same people…

“Malcolm, you’re sounding a little...hyperventilate-y there. Try and take some deep breaths, nice and slow…”

Despite himself, Malcolm obeys, trying to breathe in the pattern his father demonstrates over the phone. It helps more than he’d like to admit, and soon his breaths are evening out, and his heartbeat is slowing to a more normal speed, and the trembling in his hands is abating, and the tears are drying in cool tracks down his face. 

“I have no one to talk to about this,” he says, after a few minutes of breathing, his voice scratchy and low. “And if I do tell anyone, they’ll arrest me and never want to see me again.”

“You have me,” his father says, sounding a bit offended. “I’ll always want to see you.”

“But everyone else - how do you deal with that? With keeping something from everyone, knowing it would change everything if they found out.”

His father sighs. “I don’t know, Malcolm. We are...different people in that respect. For me, it was very easy to compartmentalize the different aspects of my life. Family, work…murder,” he says, lowering his voice on the last word. “I could keep thoughts of one separate from thoughts of the other. I know it’s going to be difficult for you to do that, but you need to try. You need to keep this from being discovered, but you cannot constantly think about the outcome if it does. You just need to keep the secret, is all. Push it to the back of your mind.”

I’m trying, Malcolm thinks. My mind keeps pushing it back at me. But he doesn’t say that, knows his father won’t be able to offer much more help than what he’s already given. 

“Thanks,” he says, instead, really wishing he was capable of following his father’s simple advice for more than just disposing of a body. 

“Of course, my boy. Now, how is your new case going? I hear there was a body -”

Malcolm hangs up, sets his phone down on the nightstand with a loud thunk, and flops backwards onto the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and tries to compartmentalize, tries to shove thoughts of murder and everyone he knows hating him into a box in the back corner of his mind. He then forces his thoughts on to happier topics, like the case his father had tried to bring up, and opens his eyes, shuffling out of bed to start his day at - he checks the time - three-thirty in the morning. 

His hand starts to shake again as he brews some coffee, and he curls it into a fist until it stops, forcing thoughts of Gil hating him back into the box from which they are already beginning to escape. He can’t think like that - much as it pains him to admit it, his father had had a point. There isn’t anyone Malcolm can go to, save him, and he’s just going to have to learn to live with that fact. If not for his own protection and safety, then for Ainsley’s. He has to keep her safe, even if it means putting himself through hell. 

He has no choice but to live with this secret.

thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed this fic :)

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday27 #prodigal son #malcolm bright #i wish i had never given you a chance #emotional whump #nightmare #crying #comfort #not the happy ending i usually go for lmao #but idk how they are going to deal with this in the show yknow? like i have no idea. so there's not much i can think of for how to approach #it like. idk whats gonna happen. i think they may just have to keep this secret #because if they dont at the least ainsley's getting arrested and malcolm's life is falling apart and jessica suffers through another loved #one turned murderer and on and on and on #so yeah idk #that got long lmao #my writing #i say things

[izzisanauthor]

Siren Song

A Prodigal Son fanfic by IzzIsAnAuthor (izzygrace07)

Based during episode 1x05 - "The Trip"

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

"Why is everyone moving in slow motion?"

Malcolm says it casually as if an altered passage of time is an everyday occurrence, and Gil's eyebrows furrow with concern. He should have known that Malcolm would go against orders and talk to Estime early. It shouldn't have even been a surprise when he found his two younger team members at the club he specifically told them not to go to; when a case gets personal, either will rarely stand down.

Gil takes a step closer to Malcolm, placing a protective hand on his shoulder and leaning in to speak. "You okay, Bright?"

He watches as Malcolm's eyes widen, a quick array of emotions crossing his face that range from terror to overwhelming happiness. His usually kempt hair is messily tossed, reminiscent of the bed head that Gil has grown a deep adoration for. He doesn't often get to see Malcolm this way. After all, Jessica would never let him leave his apartment looking anything less than the nines.

Malcolm's hand lands on Gil's shoulder with purpose, his grip strong and secure. His lip is quivering as he says, "When my dad was arrested…" He stops, seemingly to calm down his emotional state. He gulps before continuing. "You showed what a good man looks like. What a good man is."

The hand on Gil's shoulder lands gently on his cheek, cradling his face while Malcolm stares lovingly. It's intimate enough for Gil to falter his breathing, the air getting caught in his throat. Usually, these interactions are had behind closed doors and drawn blinds, hidden from the rest of the world. Nobody, not even their families, has any idea what kind of love the two men share, one that goes further than anyone would expect. If this had been any other time, Gil would remove Malcolm's hand and continue to reprimand him for disobeying direct orders. However, the dilation of Malcolm's pupils and the specks of white powder clinging to his suit tell him that doing so right now would have absolutely no merit.

Gil glances over to Dani and his eyebrows raise. "He's high as a kite."

Malcolm seems shocked by the accusation, but it fades into giddy instantly. A bright, beaming smile crosses Malcolm's face and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, "I'm higher than a kite!"

Gil lightly grasps Malcolm's wrist and pulls the hand off his cheek. The moment he does, the kid's eyes visibly line with tears and for a moment, Gil worries that he's about to break down. Luckily, Malcolm remedies that sadness by grabbing onto the sleeve of Gil's jacket with his free hand, an impish smile on his face.

"Come on, let's go home!" the consultant exclaims with newfound energy, tugging at the sleeve. "I feel like I could go thirty rounds!"

Gil blanches. His eyes immediately dart to Dani, who is watching them with worry. She opens her mouth to speak, lips stretched into an awkward smile of sorts, only to close it again. She doesn't have to say anything; the pity is clear as day on her face.

Gil clears his throat. "What happened?"

"Gunfire!" Malcolm articulates. "I got on the ground with Dani, it started to snow, and now, I feel like I could run a marathon!" He gasps, grabbing Gil's shoulders and leaning in close. In a half-whisper, as if he's had some kind of grand realization, he says, "I could be a top."

Gil pulls away from Malcolm, praying that his face keeps its usual colour. His worry for Malcolm overshadows most of his other thoughts and worries, but in the deep, selfish parts of himself, he wants to take Malcolm with this sudden energy he's gained. Not eating much and having little sleep results in poor stamina, so when the two decide to get intimate, they'll rarely go for very long. Now, however, seeing his boyfriend dripping with desire is enough to make his heart pound and his blood rush to areas he would prefer to keep under control in public. Gil chastises himself internally for feeling even remotely excited while Malcolm is in this state.

Dani lets out a sharp exhale. "Cocaine use can lead to poor judgment and increased sexuality. He probably doesn't realize that what he's saying is wrong."

Malcolm looks offended at the comment, turning to Dani with lowered eyebrows. "That's not nice, Dani. I can have sex with a man if I want to. Because…" He turns back to Gil and throws his arms around him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Sex is amazing. And Gil is amazing!"

He raises his head and stares at Gil, expression changing into something more serious. He grabs both sides of Gil's head this time, forcing their gaze to stay locked on each other. In a voice as gentle as a lamb, Malcolm puts his entire heart into speaking.

"You're amazing."

They're two simple words, but the look in Malcolm's eyes amplifies the meaning. They hold so much affection and passion and pride, absolute love. Gil's restraint is being put to the test, a gruelling effort. It only becomes more difficult when Malcolm hugs him again, only this time, Gil is hyper-aware of the half-hardness pressing against his thigh.

He looks up to Dani and sighs, pushing down his dangerous thoughts and returning his focus to the more important situation. "We'll talk about this tomorrow," he says, ignoring the sweet nothings Malcolm mumbles into his ear. "You're not off the hook, Powell. I'm taking him home to make sure he comes down from his high."

Dani nods. "You've got it, Gil."

He turns his head towards the broken window, destroyed amidst the shooting. "Go help JT look for anything that could help us figure out who started the shooting. Message me with any leads."

"I'm on it." She is quick to head towards the scene, evidently remorseful for what happened to Malcolm, needing a way to atone.

Gil lets out a heavy breath, patting Malcolm on the back. "Okay, Bright. Come on, we're going home."

Malcolm pulls away quicker than lightning, his face lit up with childish joy. "Finally!" He smiles devilishly. "I have flavoured condoms."

"And we'll use them on a different day, once you've sobered up," Gil whispers, grabbing Malcolm's wrist and rushing him through the club. The night air is cool and crisp, a complete contrast to the warm, soiled air in the building. He helps Malcolm sit in the passenger seat before heading to the driver's side and starting his car.

~+~+~+~+~+~

When they arrive at Malcolm's apartment, the younger man practically marches through the door like he's on a mission, pulling his coat off with vigour. Gil, with a small sigh, closes the door as he follows him in.

"All right," Gil says, pulling off his jacket. He watches Malcolm discard his expensive article at the bottom of the staircase and gives a disapproving shake of his head. "The best thing you can do for the seven hours or so, just stay calm and drink lots of water."

Malcolm looks towards his living area and he perks up, inhaling with excitement as he takes off towards the coach. "Or!" He leaps up onto the back of his sofa, taking a moment to balance himself, and thrusts his hands out towards his collection of murder weapons. "We throw axes!"

Gil pauses, eyebrows shooting up as his eyes widen incredulously at Malcolm. "What?"

Malcolm turns to face Gil, pointing at him excitedly. "You and me. Broad bladed axes." He steps down onto the leather cushion of his couch, as if walking on a couch is a completely normal thing to do, and holds up a hand with his fingers splayed. "I have five!" He stops. "No, six… Doesn't matter, we have plenty."

Gil approaches the island and pours himself a glass of scotch. It's going to be a long night. "No," he says sternly.

He hears the sound of Malcolm shutting something and speaking, voice pitched and full of animation. "God, this feeling! My neurons are on fire!"

Gil takes a long sip from his drink, letting out a heavy exhale through his nose. For someone with poor self-care skills, sleeping and eating especially, Malcolm has a lot of energy. It's like the cocaine boosted the effects of his second wind. It reminds Gil of Dani years back when he would watch over her, drugged and falling. At the start, she was off the walls and full of childlike joy. But, as time passed and she became reliant on it, she was paranoid and terrified, either backing away from Gil with tears in her eyes or holding onto him like he was her saving grace. The memories only fuel his concerns for Malcolm after tonight; the thought of him in such a dark place, especially with the trauma he's experienced, makes Gil's chest tighten with anxiety.

When he looks up, Malcolm is heading his way on quick feet. He has that look in his eyes, the one from the club, the one that showed nothing but absolute love. "You know," Malcolm says, "people say that dopamine triggers pleasure. But really, it's about…"

He is suddenly in Gil's space, arms wrapped loosely around his neck and only an inch of space left between them. Gil doesn't want to encourage Malcolm's drug-induced lust, but still instinctively puts his hands on Malcolm's hips, pulling him closer.

"...Desire," Malcolm finally finishes. Gil's heart skips a beat at their proximity. The intent behind the word is obvious, and the sultry tone Malcolm entangles into his voice makes the temptation harder to resist. He's like a siren, singing out to Gil with his entire being. The song muddles his mind, clouding his judgment in fog and starving him, desperate for the taste of Malcolm.

Within seconds, Gil has Malcolm pushed up against the island and their lips are crashing together hard enough to leave bruises. It's passionate and messy and their hands wander across the familiar territory of each others' bodies. Gil runs his hand through Malcolm's hair and grips tightly, releasing a moan from the young man's mouth. It only increases volume when Gil bites down on Malcolm's lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. He grabs at his boyfriend's tie with impatience and practically rips it from his neck, moving to undo the waistcoat and the button-down shirt.

Gil lifts Malcolm onto the surface of the island and stands between his legs. The bare chest before Gil is free to be marked, previous love bites and hickeys having healed over the past few days. He takes Malcolm's skin into his mouth, sucking mercilessly along the collarbone. Malcolm props his hands upon the island behind him and throws his head back with a gasp. The noises he makes send blood rushing down Gil's body and strengthens the desire to hear more of those sexy sounds.

Gil licks his thumbs before dragging them along Malcolm's nipples, feeling the skin perk up underneath his touch. With a strong buck of the hips, the tip of Malcolm's restrained erection pokes Gil in his stomach.

Somehow, against all odds, that physical touch is enough to snap Gil back to himself, regaining his previous hyper-awareness to Malcolm's arousal; most importantly, to the cause of it. The events of the club make their way back to the front of Gil's brain and within moments, the two men are apart. Both are coated in sweat and panting like animals, and Malcolm's face is flushed a brilliant red.

"What's wrong?" he asks gently between breaths, sitting up and putting his hands worriedly on Gil's still-clothed arms.

Gil feels guilt flood his system and chastises himself. He let his wants overshadow his morality, so much so that he nearly had sex with his inebriated boyfriend. It would have been–it is sexual assault. Knowing Malcolm, he probably wouldn't be mad at Gil; the young man understands that he can be annoyingly persistent even when sober. However, that doesn't cut it because Gil would never be able to forgive himself for taking advantage of the best man he's ever come to know.

With laboured breaths, Gil finally says, "We can't do this, Bright."

Malcolm seems completely oblivious to the problem, furrowing his eyebrows with bewilderment. He pulls his hands away and Gil can see the self-consciousness making its way into Malcolm's head. "What happened? Did I do something?"

Gil sighs. He holds out his hand, helping Malcolm down from the counter. He then wraps his arms lovingly around him in a protective hug. "No, kid. You didn't do anything." He pulls away and takes Malcolm's head in his hands, forcing their eyes to lock. "But I can't have sex with you like this. You're not in your right mind."

"B-But…"

"Hey." Gil pushes some stray hair away from Malcolm's face. "If our situations were reversed, you'd say the same thing to me."

Malcolm appears to take a moment to think about that idea, blinking slowly like a machine that's processing information. For a split second, it makes Gil wonder if that was enough to get through to the kid or if his words were falling on deaf ears. Fear begins to creep into the back of his mind as he imagines Malcolm begging to continue, dripping with sex appeal, and Gil is too weak to turn him away. He's seen the pain Malcolm has been through, the betrayal he's been forced to endure. Gil can't become another one of the demons; he's supposed to be an angel.

He's brought back into the moment with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Arms wrap tightly around Gil's torso and Malcolm speaks to him with pure appreciation. "Aww, thank you!"

Gil's heart flutters with love and admiration. He brushes back Malcolm's bangs and plants a kiss on the kid's forehead. He wants to thank Malcolm for being so understanding, for recognizing just how heartbroken Gil would feel if they had made it further than they did. Gil wants to tell Malcolm that he is the most empathetic man Gil has ever met. He makes sadists have mercy, and for that, Gil loves Malcolm with every fibre of his being.

He says nothing, knowing that Malcolm wouldn't remember any of this. Instead, he returns the embrace and holds his boyfriend closer, thanking God for the favourable outcome to the situation.

#prodigal son #original post on archiveofourown #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #broyo #potentially triggering #drug use #noncon for about 2 paragraphs

[royalcordelia]

Summary:  Anne and Gilbert embark on their journeys, but stay close to each other at heart. Courting across 1000 miles isn’t easy, but they’re more than willing to step up to the task. (A post s3 story).

Note: Much love to @withlovegilbert and @js589 who gave me their thoughts about this chapter. You guys rock! ♥

*

At first, Gilbert thought he was dreaming of feathers—silky feathers trailing down his nose with effervescent softness in long strokes. Once, twice, three times...He scrunched his nose at the tickling sensation, unwilling to move away from whatever warmth he was encased in. The feather smoothed over his brow, trailing down in deliberate slowness to his upturned lips. 

“Gil,” a familiar voice whispered, breaking into his dreamless slumber. “I’m loath to wake you up, but I have to get ready to go.” 

Gilbert’s eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks as he stirred awake. His dopey grin was sunshine in the dawn-less room when he peered down at the young lady sharing his pillow. For a moment, he could forget that just an hour from now Anne would be gone. Her fingers still caressed the apples of his cheeks, lingering for a long moment. When her touch vanished, she tried to push out of Gilbert’s arms, only to be held against his chest. 

“Anne, it’s four in the morning. Lay with me awhile,” he said, his voice hoarse with sleep. 

“I have to make the five o’clock train,” Anne replied softly. “Thirty minutes to get dressed. Twenty to walk to the station. Leaves me a few minutes to spare to buy my ticket and board.”

“Take a later train,” suggested Gilbert.

“If I don’t arrive home at a decent time, Mrs. Blackmore will think I’ve been killed, or worse, eloped. Even then, she believes I’m visiting a female cousin on family matters.” 

“It’s not too late to elope,” he teased, his lopsided grin finding its way to her jaw. His breath was warm against the morning chill, nearly enticing enough to convince Anne to throw caution to the wind and slide back into bed. Instead, she pressed a good morning kiss to his waiting lips and moved in search of her luggage. 

“You should rest a bit longer. I’ll wake you before I leave.” 

“If you think you’re walking by yourself to the station, then you are sorely mistaken,” grumbled Gilbert. He dramatically swung his legs out of bed and grimaced at the cold air. 

“I don’t mind going to the station by myself. You’re probably still exhausted from the party,” Anne argued, but Gilbert heard none of it. 

He grabbed some trousers and a fresh shirt from his dresser, then spoke in a gentle voice, “I’ll wait downstairs for you. Take your time.” 

When he was gone, his essence still lingered about the room in the way it smelled and felt. Lovingly, she caressed the soft surface of his quilts, then the smooth wood of his table and dresser. The mirror hanging on the wall had already collected a few month’s worth of dust, but instead of wiping it away, she drew a heart and labeled her initials with her pinky. There might never come another time she could return to the comfort of this room, and as she crossed the threshold, she gave it one last indulgent look. 

By the time she was presentable, Gilbert had cracked open one of his textbooks, reading it with sleepy eyes. When he heard her footsteps creak down the stairs, he gently closed the book and smiled wistfully. Anne fell by his side, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Can’t keep Queen Anne away from the island too long, can we?” 

Gilbert was quiet the entire walk to the station. Any light topics Anne tested out failed miserably to lighten his mood. He met each of her hopeful smiles with unconvincing attempts of his own, every time turning his face away to the street lamps. The sky was still  obsidian in the fresh hours of the morning, unpleasantly starless and cloudy, making Anne glad Gilbert had insisted on accompanying her. 

He waited on the platform as Anne purchased her ticket, shoulders slumped. With the ticket in her purse, she came to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. Anne’s heart dropped when his heavyhearted eyes met hers. His strong facade had finally fallen, leaving a troubled frown unveiled. 

“Gilbert?” Anne asked gently. She couldn’t bring herself to ask what was wrong, unsure if she’d be able to leave if he told her. Gilbert’s gaze fell down to where she was reaching for his fingers. 

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” he admitted. Despite the bitter taste in her mouth, Anne schooled her features and nodded in encouragement. 

“That’s okay. You can tell me now.” She meant it. 

Behind him, a high whistle resonated within distance as the train slowly screeched began to screech to a halt. Gilbert caught Anne looking over his shoulder and a flash of panic washed over him. He followed her gaze where a handful of tired passengers boarded the train, but when he felt a soft caress touch his cheek, he whirled back to Anne. 

“Go ahead,” Anne prodded gently.

“I really miss you,” he confessed breathlessly. Anne scrambled for something to say to ease his heart, but he rambled on before she could find the right words. “Bash asked you to come because he figured out how homesick I’ve been. It was never so bad because I’d always traveled to escape the realities of home. But now, with Bash and Delphine in Avonlea, and you in Charlottetown…”

Anne’s stomach twisted.  “I...had no idea.” 

“I tried really hard to hide it in my letters,” Gilbert muttered. “But one of them to Bash was too vague. He made me tell him what was wrong.” 

“I should’ve been able to tell,” Anne lamented. 

“No, Anne, I made sure you wouldn’t be able to tell. I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve got too much going on.”

Anne felt like she was caught in the undertow, floundering desperately for something to say that would take the cracks in his heart and mend them instantly. Yet she knew that nothing she said could change the fact that in a few moments they’d begin another month and a half of painful separation. She wished she had thought to bring a token of home, anything from the island that she could’ve stuffed into her luggage. All she had was a parting embrace, one that she wrapped around him like an old heirloom quilt. As Gilbert’s desperate arms came around her, she hoped that her warmth would linger enough to give him the strength he needed to see his heartsickness through. Anne could feel Gilbert’s breath on her throat as he heaved a sigh of relief, dissolving into her touch and allowing her to hold him up. 

“Remember what I said, alright? You’re intelligent and brave. You’ll get used to life here. If last night was any indication, you already have,” she said, determined and kind. 

He nodded against her shoulder, running his fingers over the softness of her hair with tender reverence. Behind him, the train master gave her the Time’s Up glare. 

“I have to go,” Anne lamented. Gilbert squeezed his eyes shut. 

Instead of asking her to stay, as he so desperately wanted to, he pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. “Alright.” 

A month and a half suddenly seemed like an insurmountable mountain, the end of which was deathly out of reach. Even though her limbs were weary with lack of sleep, she found the strength to pull away from him to memorize the lines of his cheeks and jaws. She’d never forget the way he looked the day she met him, or the day when he first kissed her, but she wanted to burn today’s Gilbert into her memory and save it for days that were stormy and punishing. Gilbert seemed to be doing the same. 

Ever so slightly he tilted his face to her, and she met him, crashing a month’s worth of kisses to his lips until the feeling of it was unfading. His hands were under her cheeks, holding her to him until he had tasted enough of the sunshine on her lips to hold him together. 

When they broke apart, Anne leaned down to grab her carpet bag and gave Gilbert one last beaming smile. 

“How’s two letters a week sound?” 

Gilbert let out a chuckle that was rough with stifled tears. “That sounds perfect.” 

She took one step away, then two. 

“See you at Christmas.” 

“Safe travels.” 

As she boarded, the door closed behind her blocking away the fresh air for the duration of her day long journey. When she found her seat, though, she found Gilbert was still there, watching and smiling. 

Anne watched her beloved until the sight of him turned into a silhouette of shadow against the train station. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, but hope sparked in her chest as Gilbert heaved a sigh and stepped off the platform with a renewed strength in his shoulders. She imagined him trailing up the Toronto streets like they were Avonlea hills, sheltered in warm dew and residual moonlight. And then, she fell asleep. 

*

It was the last days of November and several love letters from Anne later when Gilbert began to feel like he could actually imagine a future for himself in Toronto. It could never be a permanent future, but it seemed less daunting to imagine another four years in the city—maybe even seven if he wanted to obtain his licensure here. It also meant that he decided to stop living like each day was a battle to survive until Anne and Bash’s next letters arrived.  He would have to start doing things here that he liked and turn this loud, boisterous city into a home away from home. 

Gilbert went to explain all of this to Dr. Sullivan, who bid him to sit in a stiff leather chair upon seeing the young lad in the doorway. November had brought with it many dreary days of cold and early snow, but today the sun made a much needed reappearance. It filled Dr. Sullivan’s office through two small windows, drowning away the light of a small electric lamp.

“I bet you caught a few perplexed stares on your way here, a medical student wandering the humanities hallway,” Dr. Sullivan teased. He pulled his glasses from his nose and folded them into his breast pocket, peering at Gilbert curiously. 

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if I might beg your help for something?” Gilbert replied, dropping his leather bag onto the ground beside him.

“No begging will be necessary. Your visits are always welcome. Besides, I’ve been marking freshman essays for nearly two hours and could use fresh company. What has you on the wrong side of school?” 

“When Anne was here in October, you told her about the Women in Literature class you’re offering next semester. I wanted to add it to my class schedule, but the registrar refused. She said the class is already full, and even if I got you to sign me in, she’d refuse to forward the application to the dean of the humanities college.” 

“That’s absurd. Did she give a reason?” 

“Only that with fifteen medicine and biology credits, the last thing I’ll want to do is spend my nights reading George Eliot and Jane Austen.” 

Dr. Sullivan leaned back in his chair. 

“She does make a valid point. The class is a lot of reading—one or two texts a week. Emily tells me you’re already studying more than any other student she’s had. Are you sure you’re prepared for the extra coursework?”  

“Anne is back home taking on two fields of study. What good would I be if I couldn’t handle one extra class? I’m determined to do it. I only came because there’s the matter of the class being full.” 

“And Miss Eaglen in the registrar’s office taking your fate into her own hands.” 

“That too.” 

Pushing himself back from his chair, Dr. Sullivan ambled over to his filing cabinet and pulled open a raggedy drawer. He retrieved a stack of type-written pages and turned them toward the sunlight so that he might see more clearly. 

“The class is indeed full, but half the seats will be free by the time we finish introducing the syllabus. If you come on the first day, you’ll have nothing to worry about. I’ll speak with Miss Eaglen.” 

Gilbert blinked. “Pardon, did you just say that half the class is going to withdraw?”

Dr. Sullivan didn’t look up from his roster. “I did.” 

“People can’t hate reading that much.” 

“No, but they can and will despise a black professor enough to drop the class.” 

Gilbert’s face fell. He couldn’t imagine being accepted into the University of Toronto, only to reject a member of its faculty based on such...asinine prejudice. A faculty member with a PhD, campus wide acclaim, and a kind disposition, at that! How could anyone claim to have gotten the fullest extent of their UofT education if they closed off their minds and only listened to viewpoints of people just like them?

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a student so upset on my behalf,” noted Dr. Sullivan, interrupting Gilbert’s mental tirade. Gilbert looked up, only to feel his cheeks locked in a tight scowl. He straightened his chair, expelling his frustration with a small sigh. 

“It just hits a bit close to home.” 

Dr. Sullivan sat back down at his desk, waiting patiently for Gilbert to elaborate. 

“My entire family is black,” Gilbert clarified softly. “My brother, my niece, his mother, my late sister-in-law, her son. It’s not the same, but it breaks my heart to watch them struggle in my hometown, the home that I shared with them. I had hoped that the cruel behavior they encountered could be blamed on the small-town mindset of our community. I didn’t expect to cross the country and find it here in the city too.” 

“Every corner of the world has its own brand of enmity and unfairness. You won’t be able to escape it. You could take your brother and his family across the Atlantic and you would find this to be true.” 

“I have,” Gilbert chuckled bitterly. “The states, Cuba, Trinidad, Spain. And you’re right, in each country they looked at Sebastian like he was living on the wrong planet.” 

“I know the feeling.”  

Gilbert wasn’t sure what to say next. Part of him wanted to apologize, but for what? What was some fruitless apology supposed to fix after a lifetime of enduring injustice? It wouldn’t make Dr. Sullivan’s students stay, it wouldn’t make it easier for Delly to go to school, it wouldn’t erase a lifetime of service from Bash or Hazel. 

He shook his head. If Anne was here, she’d know what to say. 

He must’ve looked particularly defeated, because Dr. Sullivan only smiled and said, “Alright, Gilbert. How about a proposition?” 

“A proposition, sir?” 

“I propose an independent study. You’ll complete the same assignments as your peers, but will report for class with me in my office twice a week. You’ll have to come prepared with topics for discussion and you won’t be permitted to cut class. And no asking Anne to summarize the books for you. You must complete all the reading yourself.” 

When he was done, he extended a hand across his desk and waited for Gilbert’s approval.

Gilbert only had to ponder his options a moment before a grin blossomed on his face. He shook Dr. Sullivan’s hand more excitedly than was permitted for a gentleman and said, “Yes, I think that arrangement sounds wonderful. Thank you so much!”

“Don’t worry about the registrar. She’ll only change her mind with your advisor’s approval, but I’m sure Emily will be more than happy to give it.”

Hurriedly grabbing his things, Gilbert clutched his bag to his chest. 

“I’m thrilled, sir. Thank you again.” 

Dr. Sullivan chuckled, sliding his glasses back onto his face and leaning forward over the stack of freshman essays before him. As Gilbert rose to leave, he called out, “Gil, one more thing.” 

Gilbert paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Yes?” 

“What’s the real reason you wanted to take the class?” 

The lad shrugged. “You know I love to read.” 

Dr. Sullivan was not wholly convinced. 

“And?” 

“And it’ll give me something to talk to Anne about in my letters,” he confessed. Dr. Sullivan threw his hands in the air and Gilbert let out a loud laugh. “She’s an English major, I have to stay on my toes! But I really do like to read, I promise!” 

“You better. You’ve got a lot of it next semester!”

*

There was no other explanation, except that she was in trouble—so much so, that she was about to be reprimanded by the oldest and sternest professor in the entire English department. Professor Wood was due any second and would no doubt deliver a fierce verbal lashing. Why else would this particular group of schoolmates be summoned into this dim classroom so late in the day? Anne scanned the room, counting three faces that she had...stated an opinion at. Sternly. Perhaps a bit loudly. It had only been a matter of time before her classmates banded against her and the day had finally come. 

But who could blame her? It had long been established that Anne was anything but timid and demure, so certainly if they said obtuse things in class, it had to be someone’s job to correct them. If her professors were planning on merely nodding and humming “Hmm, yes, interesting point,” the task would just have to go to her. 

“Do any of you know what this is about?” murmured Janie Paul, the only person in the group Anne hadn’t corrected in class. Mostly, though, this could be attributed to the fact that Janie Paul rarely said...well, anything

“We all know what this is about. Or who, ” lamented another classmate. 

Four sets of eyes slowly turned to Anne, who leaned against one of the desks with crossed arms.

“It could be about anything!” argued Anne. “Unless you all have been conspiring.” 

“Oh please,” scoffed Anne’s worst nemesis. “Like we’d even need to. I bet right now the entire faculty is gathered in the conference room deciding whether or not they want to allow you to remain enrolled at Queens. We’re only here because they want witnesses.”

“That’s preposterous!” Anne snapped. 

“Why? You’re a disturbance to class and detrimental to the distinguished education we’re supposed to be receiving.”

“Having a bright mind and a quick wit is not a detriment, Georgie Beckham. Nor is having your opinions challenged. In fact, I’d say it’s rather good for you.” 

Anne wondered that there were many things that would do Georgie Beckham some good. A change of heart, a swift kick to the behind, a bath. He was a shortish young man with flat yellow hair that stuck his head with sweat, grease, and dirt. The bottom of his chin was tan from always walking around with his nose pointed up, and he glided about as if he were Queen Victoria herself. Anne had decided with a fury that of all the disagreeable people she’d met, Georgie Beckham was by far the worst. She hated him more than she hated Gilbert the first time she met him, and Georgie wasn’t nearly as handsome or charming. 

Georgie’s snobbish nose crinkled when Anne spoke, as if her very essence smelled too strong, like stale perfume or a full garden. 

“When they kick you out of Queens, you’ll have to get married to escape ruin and there’s no way you’ll find someone who’ll want you,” he sneered.

For the briefest of moments, Anne wondered what would happen to her if Georgie was right. She supposed she wouldn’t have the money or credibility to attend a different school. Instead, she’d just help on the farm until Gilbert graduated college, then they’d get married. For an even briefer moment, Anne pondered what it would mean if Gilbert decided not to marry her. Such imaginings were too painful, and she pushed aside her doubt. 

“I suppose I’m fortunate you’re full of hot air, then,” Anne stated bitterly. 

Just then, the classroom door swung open and in walked Professor Agnes Wood, a creaky woman of ninety who still had the energy to teach British Classics and Senior Shakespeare twice a day.  Upon stepping into the room, she sensed the restive atmosphere and gave Anne a wary look. 

“Stirring trouble already, Miss Shirley?” 

“No ma’am. We were just anxious to uncover why you’ve called us all today.” 

“All will be revealed presently. Take a seat.”

The five wary students did as they were told, Georgie taking the seat furthest from Anne. Professor Wood moved to the front of the class, commanding attention in its rawest form with a domineering scrutinization. 

“Thank you all for arriving in a timely manner. I’m sure receiving this summons has made you curious to the reasoning.” She paused, as if waiting for nods of agreement, but was met with five frightened faces—one especially freckled and pale. To prevent further trepidation, she continued.

“It is my pleasure to inform you of a potential opportunity that has befallen you. You five have been chosen from the entirety of the Education program’s long list of pupils. As you know, Queens is a traditionally education focused college. Many of Canada’s greatest educators have earned their teaching certificates within these walls, though the best of the best were granted this offer. Anne, you look as though you’re a second from keeling over.” 

Anne’s head snapped up. 

“Oh, I’m just full of suspense,” she admitted eagerly. “Please, continue!” 

“Two of you will be granted the opportunity to assist real teachers in their classrooms for the duration of a month. As student teachers, you’ll be expected to aid the instructor in their daily lessons and perhaps lead a few exercises yourself. The assignment is planned for September of next year, however the application process may take some time. The chosen candidates will be announced finals week in May. ”

“If we’d be teaching in the fall, won’t that put us behind in credit hours?” the classmate at Anne’s right asked. Anne rolled her eyes. What were credit hours when there was real actual teaching to be done?

“As a full time hands-on assistant, you would be granted nine credits of your recommended fifteen. Your remaining two classes would be completed via correspondence until you could resume them October 1st. Though only two of you will be chosen, the rest of you needn’t fear. Other opportunities may arise in the coming years and you all are model candidates. I’m sure you have questions, however, and I’ll endeavor to answer them.” 

Questions exploded out of the students the way volcanoes erupt after years of boiling. Yet, of the students bursting at the seams with questions, there were two who remained painfully silent. Anne was one, lost in the whirlpool of her thoughts. But in the madness, she realized with narrow eyes there was one more person who was just as quiet and determined as she was—Georgie. 

*

My dear man, who is here with me in spirit and heart, 

I would like to begin with a disclaimer: Your last letter had me blushing as much, if not more, than you surely intended. I see through your little tricks, Gilbert Blythe, and let me say, I delight at turning to mush upon reading your words. I will acknowledge them in due time, but first, a matter of utmost importance.

I. HATE. GEORGIE. BECKHAM. I can’t recall if his name has snuck its slimy way into one of my letters before, but here it has made a most unwelcome appearance. And yes, I know hate is a term that Marilla would reprimand me for, yet it cannot and will not be denied that he is the worst person I’ve ever met. Gilbert, I cannot emphasize this enough. I know that in the past, I have not been an excellent judge of character of the male sex, but Georgie has done more than tug my braid and call me carrots. He’s bitter towards women, worships himself in class, and once, I heard him say the most atrocious things about the people of the Bog. Billy Andrews has met his match. And worst of all, Gil-est of Gils, we’re competing for the same student teaching position!

 I see I am getting quite ahead of myself. Allow me a moment to compose myself. There. 

I have been chosen along with four other students to compete for an opportunity to assist a teacher in an actual school. Professor Wood even thinks that if our progress is satisfactory enough, that we’ll be permitted to lead exercises all on our own. Think of how much I could learn, how ahead of my classmates I’d be! Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, a bona fide teacher! Or, very nearly one! 

Of course, there is the chance that Georgie could win the other slot if I receive the first. Oh, this troubles me almost as much as if he were to get the position instead of me! I would fail at the assistantship miserably if he were there, always criticizing every little thing I did. It can’t happen, Gilbert! 

It isn’t entirely up to chance. I’ll just have to work very hard to put forth the best application Queens has ever seen. It’s quite involved too—essays, interviews, observations of my character. I’ll have to be on my very best behavior from now until May. Oh, and could I send you my first application essay? I’m writing about integration of community and its positive impact on children. I know you have plenty of reading of your own, so please don’t put yourself out. 

Now! That is quite enough about schoolmate nuisances. How are you, my darling love? I’ve had the most peculiar feeling that you’ve had a very pleasant week since your last letter. Is that because Christmas holiday is very nearly upon us and it’s a mere fortnight until we’ll be reunited? That means we have precisely one week to devise our disguises, and I don’t mean fake mustaches and hats! My brand of deception is the flirtatious sort, involving carriage rides with you and promises to Marilla to not wander from Lover’s Lane. Except! We’ll wander off the road and find a place where even the most wandering eyes cannot amble. The falling snow will cover the evidence and I will have some much needed quality time with my ever-captivating suitor. How many kisses shall I reserve for you?

Oh,  how easy it would be to spend the rest of the evening writing the world’s longest letter to you. Ten pages on the sweetness of your eyes, another twenty on how divine it is to be wrapped in your warmth, tucked tightly into your arms. Instead, I must direct the vigor in my hand to many drafts of this application essay and begin planning on the second. When the application process is over in May, I’ll have all summer to venerate every ounce of you. And remember, sweet one, I don’t do a thing half-way. 

So for now, I’ll sign off.  As always, I miss you dearly. I feel like Mr. Rochester did when he thought Jane was going to leave him. If I tug this cord around my rib, will you feel it in Toronto, tugging on yours? Are we still connected in heart, mind, and spirit? I believe we are. 

Reader, I love you. 

Anne

*

The two weeks until winter holiday passed with surprising ease. The winter sun, which had gained a habit of suspending over the sky for long hours at a time, seemed to make the days pass at a bearable rate. Anne was relieved to find that finals week wasn’t nearly as dreary as the sophomores had cautioned. She studied long hours by her window, and found her concentration honed to perfection under a bright sun. Exams came and passed, and though she was confident she’d championed them all, she couldn’t feel complete freedom until she was home at Green Gables. When the Carmody-bound train screeched off toward home, Anne leaned her head on Diana’s shoulder and let out a soft sigh. 

“Tired, Anne?” asked Diana, leaning her head onto Anne’s hair. 

“A bit. That sigh just now was one of relief. American Literature and Geometry may distract one from the strains of homesickness, but college is nothing compared to being home.” 

“I daresay I could weather any sort of sickness if you were beside me. I’m so glad I’m only taking a forty minute train ride and not a forty day trek across the ocean.” 

Anne hugged Diana’s arm, bringing Diana’s piano-playing fingers to her lips.

“If you had gone to Paris afterall, I’m certain I would have perished. Now we have all month to revisit our old haunts and relive at least some of our youth.” 

The train pulled into the Carmody station, pulling Anne out of her light sleep. The world outside moved by slowly as Anne nearly leapt across Diana’s lap to look out at the train platform. Among the many faces of the waiting and leaving, Anne couldn’t find Matthew or Marilla. For a moment, she wondered if something had gone wrong.

“Is that Sebastian?” asked Diana, pointing to the far left of the platform.

Anne grinned. Sure enough, there was Bash talking to Diana’s father in a casual manner. He wore two scarves wrapped around his face to block out the chill, but his eyes were unmistakable and he was wearing one of Gilbert’s old hats. 

Knocking into some disgruntled passengers, Anne scurried as fast as she could off the train and over to Bash. He caught sight of her fiery hair among the crowd and stopped what he was saying mid-phrase. 

“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes! Hello Anne,” he beamed.

Before she could think better of it, she jumped into his arms and pressed a warm kiss to the scarves over his cheek. 

“My, Anne, you’re still quite public about your displays of affection,” commented Mr. Barry, who glanced nervously around the scowls of nearby travellers. 

Anne pulled back with a chuckle. 

“I do wish you would forget you ever saw that, Mr. Barry. Your family is far too close to Rachel Lynde.” 

“Forget what?” Bash asked, but Anne waved her hand. 

“Nothing! Nothing!” Before he could argue, she picked her bags back up. “Are you here to pick me up?” 

“If you need a ride back home to Green Gables, I’d be happy to drive you, but no, I’m not here for you. I’m here for Gilbert.” 

Anne’s heart jumped into her throat. 

“Gilbert isn’t due back until tomorrow,” she stated, failing miserably at getting her hopes up. 

“No, you weren’t due back until tomorrow. Gilbert was due back today.” 

“But I marked my calendar as soon as I got his letter. I wrote to Matthew and Marilla and told them today.”

“Your calendar can say what it wants,” interrupted Bash. His gaze drifted behind her  shoulder. “But he’s right there.” 

And he was. Marching through the crowd was a young man with snowflakes crowning his curly head and a blush from the chill on his dimples. The sight nearly brought Anne to her knees. She hadn’t realized how desperately she needed to see him, how dull the ache in her heart had grown in their separation. Because she was a woman of very little self-control, she cried out his name above the noise of the chatter with a delighted laugh. His attention snapped to her and he fumbled with his bag. He matched her elated laughter, walking as fast as he could through the web of people. 

Anne shoved her bag into Bash’s arms and rushed to meet Gilbert halfway. When he was within reach, he made no greeting or polite salutations. Instead, he grabbed her face in his hand and kissed her in front of the entire train platform. He must’ve felt Anne’s knees go limp the second he tasted her bottom lip, because he quickly wrapped his arms across her back and held her to him. 

Claiming the last bit of propriety she could, she pushed his chest and forced herself away. Gilbert chased her mouth, but sighed in resignation when she stuck a finger to his lips.

“Sorry, can’t help it,” he murmured. His breath was steam against her lips. “You just grow more beautiful by the day. Takes a lad off guard after a month.”

“Gilbert!” Anne chuckled, blushing. 

“I’m serious! Exponential growth. I may have to start writing my will.”  

“Stop,” reprimanded Anne, but her sweetheart knew she meant quite the opposite. “Where did you come from? You said you were coming tomorrow!” 

“No silly, I said I was coming today . You were the one arriving home tomorrow. I even planned to pick you up tomorrow and surprise you.” 

“Well, you’ve done that.” She froze. “Does that mean we were on the same train the entire time and didn’t know it!?” 

“Probably,” Gilbert smiled, kissing her knuckles and earning a few doey-eyed looks from passing ladies. “We have nearly all month to make up for it. I was promised disguises and secret trysts.”

“So far, you’re getting the secret part all wrong,” a voice chimed in behind her. Gilbert rolled his eyes at Bash’s knowing smirk. “Say Anne, is this what Mr. Barry meant about public displays of affection?” 

Anne tugged his hat clean over his eyes, making Gilbert laugh so loudly, someone beside him jumped. 

“Alright lovebirds. Let’s fly on home to our separate nests.”

*

Christmas was a jubilant affair, the Cuthbert dinner table growing by two members for the third year in a row. When they realized that Hazel and Elijah filled the last available seats, Anne wondered who would stumble into their family this year and if they’d mind sitting at a separate table. With a child, a courting couple, and a spirit of song, the home was filled with endless moments of noise and joy. 

But there were some quiet moments too. Anne and Gilbert particularly tried to find as many as they could together, but often found themselves interrupted by the baby, or by Bash’s halfway-intoxicated teasing. By the end of the night, Marilla had sensed her daughter’s frustration and taken her guests into the parlor where they could sit and converse. Anne stayed behind, tugging on Gilbert’s sleeve before he could walk away. He turned around, a happy smile on his face. 

“Could you give me my Christmas present now?” asked Anne timidly. Gilbert’s face fell. His eyes focused on the cracks of the floorboards, as if he couldn’t bear to look at Anne’s disappointment.

“Love, I uh...I spent all my money on the ticket to come home. I don’t have anything for you, I’m sorry.” 

But Anne shook her head, lifting his chin with a few fingers. 

“I didn’t mean like that. You know I don’t mind if you don’t have anything for me.” 

“Then what—?” 

Anne revealed a small velvet pouch from behind her back. For a split second, Gilbert’s heart stopped, thinking that it was his mother’s ring she had found. For an even shorter moment, he realized if she had asked him to propose to her, he would’ve done it without hesitation and against his logical reasoning. There was a different swell in his heart when he realized that the bag didn’t contain a ring, but several scraps of paper. 

“My letter,” he realized. 

“What’s left of it, at least. Do you suppose you could piece it together?” 

“I think so. I may not remember it verbatim, but the sentiment is impossible to forget.” 

He spilled the torn pieces onto the floor, sorting out the words so he could see them all at once. Anne waited eagerly at his side, her hand finding its way to his hair as he began to piece the fragmented letter together. She tried not to read it as he strung sentences together, but couldn’t help but be drawn to the words affection and desire. 

“You really did a number on this, didn’t you?” teased Gilbert when he found a few pieces with a stray letter or two, detached from its word.  

“Whatever you did to mine must have been worse since it disappeared. ” 

“Hey now,” protested Gilbert, smirking. “I can hardly be held accountable for something I never knew existed.” 

“For all you know, it was on the bottom of your shoe, trekked into the mud and turned to mush.” 

“Good thing it was short enough for you to remember it. I keep the second edition in my bedside drawer and read it before I go to sleep.” 

“ Second edition ,” laughed Anne, leaning her head onto his shoulder. She turned her face to the fire and let her eyes fall close. Beneath her, Gilbert’s arm moved as he worked. 

She didn’t realize she was dozing off until she heard, “Alright, Anne-girl. All finished.”

Rubbing the haze of sleep out of her eye, she peered down at the letter before her. It was pieced together like a puzzle with careful consideration with a few pieces from the sides missing. A quick surveyance of the writing told Anne that she’d still be able to read it, regardless of its inadequacies. With a steadying breath, Anne moved her eyes to the first line. 

Dear Anne…

Gilbert pressed his lips to her cheek and rose to move into the other room. 

“Where are you going?” asked Anne. Gilbert gave a small smile.

“I mean every word of that letter, but I’m still a bit embarrassed to watch you read it.” 

“You write me love letters all the time.” 

“But this is the love letter. The first. The ones I write you now are different because I’m well-practiced at it. But this one...It was my swan song, a last move of desperation.”

Anne bit back a smile at the rosy blush on his cheeks, anxious to finally see what all the fuss was about. Still, she mustered up some patience and reached out her hand to him. 

“You don’t have to watch me read it, but stay by my side, will you?” 

She didn’t have to ask twice. 

“Alright.”

He settled beside her and took her hand in his, running his fingers over her knuckles and palm while she read. Anne, on her part, moved through the letter deliberately, letting every wash of emotion and reaction occur as it would. She’d forgotten that Gilbert had been longing like this, even during his involvement with Winifred. When the words became blurry with her tears, Anne read even slower and squeezed Gilbert’s hand in hers. 

With love, Gilbert. 

She read that line over and over, before glancing briefly at the postscript, then bringing herself back to the top. Gilbert was quiet beside her, letting her take the time she needed. 

Anne’s heart was heavy, saturated with a million feelings she couldn’t quite place. She wanted to say that things would’ve been so different if she had read the letter when she’d found it in the first place, but what-if’s didn’t do her any good now. What mattered in this moment was the person beside her, whose heart seemed to beat in unison with hers. A person who was waiting very patiently for her reaction, even though it left him vulnerable and exposed. 

Her palm found his face, and the second his hesitant eyes found hers, she kissed him slow and purposeful. She hoped that he could feel the years of longing she’d felt for him, the same way her letter had made her feel. She hoped it was electricity from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet, long and warm, unrelenting in its ensnarement. 

When they broke apart, Anne gazed intently down at her hazel-eyed boy and counted the freckles around his nose. His heart was wide open on his sleeve, in his eyes, in his smile—beating and loving on full display without fear. 

“I feel like I could take on the world just now,” Gilbert admitted blissfully. 

“There’s two of us now,” noted Anne lovingly. “Let’s do it together.” 

*

I hope you enjoyed! ♥ Thanks for reading!! Below are those individuals who asked to be tagged upon updates. If you’d like to add your name to the list or remove it, please let me know!

@pterparkcr @be-feminine-be-unique @firehaireddeamer @annabel-lee23 @beinmyheart @forcordelia @ladyofhousewaters @brookie-cookie3 @peculiarly-deactivated @mrs-shirley-cuthbert-blythe @lexfangirls @amoraeternusforyou @pastaismysignificantother @spellsandbells @instantknightartisanwagon @noctislightning @lonelyscreaming @lbhmoon @findurhappy @mynameisbluenotjane @sarahisatotalgeek @takemetoavonlea @shrillrule @doodlesfan @noctislightning @awaeforlife @neomikaha @cresmix @miacherries

#anne with an e #anne of green gables #shirbert #shirbert fic #tessa writes

[notgonnarememberthis]

find your way (back to me) - chapter six

Happy New Year!! Hope y’all are starting off the new year with health and safety for you and your families. Less than 2 weeks away from season 2 and I’m so fucking excited/anxious. Weird note, this chapter is actually the first thing I wrote for the entire story. I had the first part stuck in my head for a little over a month and threw out the concept to my best friend Em. They encouraged me to build the story and so far I’ve been so pleased with it and the reactions y’all have given. Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It really means the world to me.

Three days wears on the psyche, Gil notes in yet another confrontation report. It’d been three days since they’d found the car with Jessica’s phone inside and no sign of her except for her blood on the back window. Malcolm was quickly unraveling, it’s not hard to see. He’d slammed a reporter up against a wall for even suggesting that maybe the world was better off with another Whitly gone. With him visiting Martin the reporter got too close. It didn’t take much more for Malcolm to throw a punch.

He has two of his best cops tailing her children, taking much needed focus away. JT took on Ainsley almost immediately, after her snap with Endicott it’d become an unspoken agreement that she be kept an eye on. He has to bury his feelings every time he sees Malcolm’s hand shake uncontrollably, or when Ainsley comes back from the bathroom with her makeup absolutely perfect but her eyes still red and puffy from the tears she shed in private. It takes all of his power not to go to them and hold them close to his chest.

Every part of him aches.

Two bodies dropped since Jessica’s disappearance. Both had gunshot wounds to the back of the head. Malcolm had made the connection with the information from Martin, thank god. It didn’t take much more to connect the dots after that. They’re lucky Colette even considered it, but they were all desperate. Their time frame was 48 hours. They’re now at 56.

God, where is she?

“Oh my god!” He’s on immediate alert when he hears Ainsley’s scream followed by shouts of other officers. With his hand on his gun he races to where he’d left her and Malcolm earlier.

The room is in absolute chaos, JT is barely holding back Ainsley, her face red while she screams in protest. Several officers have their weapons drawn, Dani included. In the center of it all Malcolm stands with his hands extended, as if reaching for something.

And then he sees her. Her hair is disheveled; dirt and blood are smeared across her face. She’s barefoot, she likely lost her heels long ago. Her once white blouse is also caked in muck and grime. There’s a cloth wrapped around her thigh and one hand is cradling her side. Most startling, though, in her other hand is a knife stained crimson.

“Where is he?” She shouts, her eyes are wild. Gil’s not all that certain she even knows where she is.

“Mom, it’s me.” Malcolm steps a little closer.

“Bright, stand down.” Dani’s voice is a warning.

“It’s ok. She’s not gonna hurt me.” He breathes out slowly, as if trying to calm the entire room at once. “Give me the knife and I’ll find Gil for you. Okay?”

“No!” She springs back and the shouts erupt again.

“Lower your weapons.” Gil barks above the noise. All eyes turn to him, even Jessica’s. They’re reluctant but they obey.

“Mom.” Malcolm steps closer again, drawing her attention back to him. Her face crumples, truly seeing him now for the first time.

“Malcolm.” She sobs, the knife clattering to the floor. She pulls him into a tight hug, her voice barely carrying, “You’re ok. Thank god you’re ok.” 

“I’m ok?” Malcolm chuckles humorlessly. The hug is enough for all of the weight that had been on him to crash all at once. He buries his face into her shoulder his whole frame now shaking with the sorrow he kept so tightly wrapped for days. 

Once the knife is removed and bagged as evidence JT releases Ainsley and she crashes into the hug too. “Ainsley, baby.” Jessica’s voice carries as she recognizes the touch of her daughter. Her crimson stained fingers tangle in the blonde curls. He puts his gun back in his belt allowing himself to relax. He aches to join the embrace. Jessica lifts her chin and meets his eyes feeling his gaze upon them. Her face slackens, and he realizes just how pale she looks.

“Mom?” His heart drops at Ainsley’s tone, the two younger Whitly’s stumbling backwards with sudden weight. He’s on them in seconds, helping to settle Jessica gently onto the ground. The spot where she had been cradling with her free hand was spreading quickly staining her blouse red. In the embrace the cloth the she’d been holding to her fell as well. 

“Call a paramedic.” He orders shucking his coat off to press against the wound. She groans in pain, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, I know.”

“What’s happening?” Malcolm’s arms come around Ainsley, stopping her from coming closer. His hands shake, he’s closed himself off again holding him and his sister together at once. His eyes are glued to his mother, his face as red as Ainsley’s.

“Where is he?” Jessica asks again, this time pleading. His eyes flash to Malcolm, confused. “Please Gil you have to find him. I tried to get him out, I tried.” He shushes her trying to get her to relax.

“Who Jess?” Her fingers grip the front of his sweater, looking around terrified. “Hey, focus. Jess, who do I need to find?” It was too late, however, her eyes slid shut and her body slumped completely against him. He holds his breath until he feels her pulse against his fingertips, strong and steady.

“She just passed out.” Malcolm assures his sister after he likely saw the look of relief cross Gil’s face. The precinct seems to remain still until the paramedics arrive and take her away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“We collected three different sources of blood on Ms. Whitly.” Edrisa remarks, though slowly, her eyes on Malcolm the entire time. She’s worried about him being there, they all are. His insistence was to stay. With Jessica in surgery, it would be a few hours before she was released. “Her own, obviously being the first. But the spots on her face and blouse were of our fourth and fifth victims, Tommy Moore and Andrew Rankin. She was likely sitting in front of them when…”

“What about the knife?” Dani asks, she’s biting the inside of her cheek, almost regretting having to ask the question. Malcolm shifts, Gil knows all too well the scene flashing through his memory.

“The blood on the knife was Ms. Whitly’s. With the help of Dr. Garcia, who is the trauma surgeon who I met in the hospital, we determined a loose thread of events.” She looks to Gil and he nods for her to continue. “We are aware of the wreck, Ms. Whitly was showing signs of a concussion upon arrival at the station and in the hospital when she briefly regained consciousness before being sedated. She likely hit her head off the window during the wreck. This is conducive with the bruising and dried blood on her right temple.” Edrisa turns back to the board she was using to present her information swallowing. 

It wasn’t often that she presented the injuries of a victim who survived but after the events of today he’s exercising caution. He makes a brief note to check on her and maybe buy her lunch for her work. He knows none of this is easy but Edrisa is close to Malcolm. She understands him in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to the rest of them. She deserves to know that she’s appreciated.

“Then there’s the gunshot wound. It was likely received two days ago but opened up again when she escaped.” Gil bites the inside of his cheek thinking privately to himself. She’s lucky she didn’t bleed out. The old stab would on his own abdomen aches with the sympathy of that pain. One he wishes she never knew. “Next we have some yellowed bruising across her cheekbone and under her left eye. It suggests that she was hit. With the scrape on her cheek I would assume the perpetrator wore a ring when doing so.” She checks her notes again adjusting the glasses that slid down the bridge of her nose. “The large bruise on her forehead suggests that she hit her attacker. With her wrists and legs bound I would assume she headbutt him.”

Malcolm’s laugh catches them all by surprise. He shouldn’t get as much glee out of the moment as he does; but imagining prim and proper Jessica Whitly slamming her head against her captor is more satisfying than anything. “Sorry.” He mutters muffling a further laugh with his palm.

Edrisa relaxes slightly at that. “Finally we have the wound in her leg. She was stabbed, obviously. But the wound pattern along with some small cuts on her wrist suggest that she pulled it out herself.”

“She saw her opportunity. Her captor left the knife and she cut the ties around her wrists and ankles to escape.” Malcolm nods in agreement with Edrisa’s assessment.

“Holy shit.” JT mutters. “How the hell did she get back here without anyone taking her to the hospital or calling the cops?”

“That we won’t know. The doctors have my mother under sedation, for now. She’s undergoing her second surgery now, she’s severely dehydrated, and was delirious when she woke up in the hospital.”

“Shouldn’t you be with Ainsley?” Dani asks slowly. “Your mom needs you.”

“My mother needs me to find who did this to her before he strikes again.” Malcolm snaps. Dani grits her teeth but nods.

“What about the guy Ms. Whitly was talking about before she lost consciousness?” JT shifts, eyes combing over the file in front of him. “Do we have any idea who it could be?”

“We can only assume it is another missing person. Until she’s coherent enough to talk to us, we won’t know for certainty. Until we find the guys we are looking for I want detail on all of the Whitly’s until further notice. With her reaction earlier we can only assume that Malcolm and Ainsley were the next targets if Jess didn’t participate in what the killers wanted.” He turns to Edrisa, “Thank you Dr. Tanaka. Keep us updated if Dr. Garcia contacts you with any more information.”

“Yes sir.”

“Colette and her team are canvassing the area now. She couldn’t have made it far without being noticed by a concerned stranger. Dani, I want you and JT looking through missing persons. See if there’s any new disappearances that could be our missing man.”

“What do you want me to do?” Malcolm sits up straight, alert.

“We’re going back to the hospital.” He holds up his hand when Malcolm stammers to protest. “Ainsley needs you right now, more than anything. Not to mention once your mother wakes up she’ll need a face she can trust. Something scared her into coming here with a knife. I have a bad feeling.” Malcolm nods in agreement, though he still doesn’t look too pleased with the information.

He can’t shake the feeling in his gut that they’re missing some key information. He only hopes that Jessica will wake and tell them before it is too late.

#jessica whitly x gil arroyo #gil arroyo x jessica whitly #prodigal son #jessica whitly #gil arroyo #prodigal son AU #fanfic #kidnapping au #notgonnarememberthis fics #malcolm bright #Ainsley Whitly

[lowritesthings]

Resonance

Part 6 of ?? (Part One) << Previous // Next >>

In the hours before it comes down, you shower and change back into your own clothes before washing Tifa’s loaner clothes. Next you sit down to examine your new weapon. There’s materia already slotted into the gun’s grip, two green orbs that radiate a healthy glow. Healing and wind materia, you see once you’ve examined them more closely. You vaguely remember how to tap into the materia’s power and hope you won’t need to until you get a refresher course in that, too.

You take the day to rest up, but as night sets in you decide you’re still too tired to cook and head out to find dinner in one of the food stalls along the main street. That’s when you hear the rumors around town.

“Yeah, some merc beat up a Turk at the church—”

“Nah, he beat up the Turk near the Leaf House. He had a huge sword—”

“Have you seen the blonde guy with Aerith, helping people out?”

“I think he used to be a SOLDIER? Oates knows more…”

It’s got to be Cloud. Your heart leaps in your chest at the idea, and your first thought is that you need to tell Tifa he’s alive. Your second thought is that she’ll be on her way to Don Corneo’s tonight, probably before you can reach her with the news.

Maybe if you can find Cloud and send him over to Seven, he can stop her in time and the team can come up with a better plan. But no one you ask knows where he is. Some say he’s gone into the scrapyards, but most seem to think he’s on his way out of Five already. Oates shrugs when you find him.

“He was here doing odd jobs with Aerith, but he kept saying he was in a hurry.” 

You consider going to Aerith’s house before deciding that you’re just looking for an excuse to go back to Sector Seven. Plus you’ve been walking around town for a while and haven’t caught a glimpse of either Cloud or Aerith, so perhaps he has already made his way out of town.

Then you spot the first helicopter.

It’s a long way off, but you can see that it’s headed for Sector Seven. The dread you’ve been feeling all day starts to rise again, making your stomach feel like a pit of snakes.

You stop trying to justify your desire to return to Seven and just move, stopping only to grab your emergency medical bag from home. Then you’re heading toward the chocobo carriages at a jog. Normally you’d never spend so much gil on something as trivial as a drive over to Sector Seven, but tonight you don’t even flinch.

“Hurry,” you tell the driver. Then there’s nothing to do but wait with a stomach full of wriggling eels for the ride to be over.

—

You can see muzzle flash and hear gunshots long before the carriage stops. You dive out of the back and hit the ground running, shoving past The Shinra guards at the gate trying to keep the panicked Sector Seven residents from leaving the slums. You ignore their shouts and head directly for the pillar and they let you go, too busy securing the main exit to bother chasing you. There are crowds of other residents in the streets, confused and afraid, and more than once you have to shove through or swerve around them as you press onward.

You skid to a halt at the gate surrounding the bottom of the towering structure, your eyes searching through the members of the Neighborhood Watch and Avalanche as they make their way up the stairs. You can hear Barret a few flights above you, shouting orders and shooting up at the helicopters they swoop in to drop off Shinra ground security.

Suddenly you spot them. Biggs, Wedge and Jessie are preparing to head up the pillar themselves. It’s Jessie that sees you, eyes widening as she takes in your rapid breathing and flushed face.

“Did you run the whole way here?” she asks, beaming at you when you scowl at her. She winks and slings an arm over your shoulders, hauling you over to Biggs and Wedge by the neck.

“Hey, good to see you again so soon,” Wedge says with a jovial smile. How he can be so cheerful seconds before charging into battle is slightly baffling to you, but part of his charm. It certainly helps you gather your own courage.

You glance at Biggs and find his eyes already locked on to your face. His brow furrows as he searches your expression.

“The whole idea of dropping you off today was to keep you out of trouble,” he says. You ignore the disapproval in his voice.

“Hard to do that when all my friends are about to run right into it,” you reply, trying to sound casual. You almost nail it, but your voice wavers a little at the end, and the arm Jessie’s thrown around your shoulders tightens in a comforting gesture.

“Don’t worry, we’re not public enemy number one for no reason. They’re the ones that just picked the wrong fight,” she tells you with a wink and a predatory grin. “I’m gonna go, see you two at the top,” she says to Biggs and Wedge. Then she kisses the side of your head, gives the guys a jaunty wave, and takes off up the steps.

Your eyes move up the pillar, catching a glimpse of Barret as he continues barreling up the metal stairs toward the top. Dread creeps higher, like an icy flood pooling in your belly.

Wedge wraps you in a hug. “It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs in your ear. “We’ve been through tougher fights than this.”

He lets go and gives you a confident smile, then shoots Biggs one last significant look before following Jessie up.

As soon as he’s disappeared around a bend in the stairs, Biggs is on you in a flash. He grabs your arm, his eyes burning into yours.

“You can’t be here,” he says in a low, urgent voice. There’s panic in his eyes, you think...panic because of your presence here? “They’re trying to drop the plate. You can’t be anywhere near here when that happens.”

You’d already guessed that, but horror still flashes through you like lightning when you hear it confirmed out loud.

“What I can’t do is leave when you’re about to run up those stairs and make some kind of heroic last stand,” you reply, your voice sharper than you mean it to be because of your own rising panic. “Biggs, we should be evacuating, not—”

“Evacuations have started, but the guards aren’t budging and people are having to go the long way, through the sewers. We’ve got to hold these guys off long enough for everyone to get out,” he tells you.

Your heart clenches painfully. “You don’t think you’re coming back down,” you say in an odd, flat voice you don’t recognize as your own.

He doesn’t answer but his throat bobs as he swallows hard, and you know you’re right. Tears fill your eyes and you give them an angry swipe with the back of your free hand.

“I’m staying,” you tell him, firm and uncompromising.

“No way in hell—” he starts, but you glare at him and say, “I can help the ones that get wounded. Or I can help with the evacuations. But I can’t just run off and save my own skin, and you know me too well to think that was ever really an option in the first place.”

“You got to,” he says, a pained sort of helplessness in your voice. “Damn it, I thought you were safe. I’ve got to know you’re getting out of here in one piece before—”

“No. If you’re staying, so am I. So you and Barret and the others had better win, do you hear me?”

You hadn’t noticed you were doing it, but now you realize that your hands are on his chest, fingers curled tight in the fabric of his shirt, and you give him a shake. His hands are gripped around your arms now, just above your elbows.

“You come down or I’m going up after you.” The tears are back and you grit your teeth and fight them down, along with the huge lump in your throat.

“You crazy, stubborn—” He chokes off and yanks you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a desperate embrace. “When this is over, I’ll find you,” he promises. You bury your face in his chest, feeling your tears dampening his shirt.

“You’d better,” you reply. He pulls back, just a little—just enough to look down into your eyes again. Then his jaw clenches. He cups your face, tilts your head back and kisses you. It’s hard and anguished, both of you gripping each other like the universe itself is trying to drag you away from one another...and then you’re both forced to break apart to gasp for air. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours.

“I had to do that,” he says after a moment, lifting his head from yours, “just in case…”

He trails off and you surge up on your toes to kiss him again. “I know,” you say. “I’m glad you did. Now get up there and stop them and save us all.”

“Will do,” he says, trying to flash his usual, roguish smile. It doesn’t quite work, but you attempt your own smile in return.

“See you soon,” you tell him. It comes out like an order and his smile turns into a bit of a grin.

“Soon,” he promises, giving you a gentle squeeze. Then he presses one last, lingering kiss to your forehead before he lets you go and turns, charging up the stairs before you can stop him.

You stand there feeling utterly bereft for a couple of seconds. Then turn to a small group of Neighborhood Watch members trying to keep the area at the base of the pillar clear.

“I’m a medic,” you tell them. “Where can I set up?”

—-

The night passes in a blur after that. Barret’s shouts can be heard from above, though it’s not long before he’s too high for you to make out his exact words. You push out everything but the work: you patch bullet holes and treat burns from flamethrowers. When burning debris falls from the sky, you start having to treat civilians as well as combatants.

Wedge falls from the tower, but you don’t get a chance to help him. You see him limp off with Aerith toward the gates and realize that Cloud must be here too. The fighting intensifies above you. A chopper goes down, then another.

Then Wedge is grabbing you.

“What are you still doing here?” he yells. “You’ve got to get out!”

“People still need my help—” you start to say, but he shakes you hard.

“We’re losing. Even with Cloud. Tifa sent someone to get Marlene. It’s time for you to go too.”

“But Biggs—”

“That’s why you’ve got to go. You know he’d do anything to save the people he cares about. You’re the only one left he can keep safe. Don’t let him fail,” Wedge says, and you’re forcing down sobs because you know he’s right even though you can barely stand the thought of escaping while your friends are still here fighting.

“Go.” Wedge shoves you toward the gates. You stumble another step forward on your own, then hesitate and turn back.

“GO!” he roars, and you turn and run.

You make it to the playground at the border, start to help pull other people out of the tunnel and direct them deeper into Sector Six, but you’ve only been there for a few seconds when the plate begins to fall out of the sky.

You watch, stunned, as huge chunks of city rain down into the slums, accompanied by giant explosions with shock waves that knock you off your feet. Someone reaches out and drags you under some playground equipment: later you’ll find out it was Wymer trying to protect you from any falling debris here at the edge of the sector.

You huddle under cover and watch, frozen and horrified, as one eighth of the city—upper and lower—is completely annihilated. Then you curl up around your knees and bury your head in your arms as the grief crashes into you like a train.

No one else notices. No one comes to comfort you. They’re all grieving too.

Next >>

#biggs x reader #ff7 biggs #ffvii biggs #ff7 remake #ff7r #fic: resonance #lo writes things

[dryadsbubbles]

Don’t Forget It

A little Modern Day University Shirbert to tie you over until the finale lol. Technically it goes with this post but you can also read it as a stand alone it doesn’t really matter. 

For context (if you’re interested), the idea spurred from this scene in Brooklyn Nine Nine.

(ao3 link)

--

Anne sighed and flopped down onto her couch. Vocab words and definitions swam through her head.

“I don’t think I can study for another second today.” She sighed defeatedly.

“Well good. Because I can’t either.” Gilbert said, following her into the living room of her apartment. 

They had been reviewing for almost 4 hours together in Anne’s bedroom. Despite the fact that they only shared one class together, they had learned that they both enjoyed sitting in companionable silence while doing their schoolwork. Sometimes Anne would quiz Gilbert using his flashcards and other times Gilbert would read and edit Anne’s pages and pages of papers. But most of the time, like today, they would just sit beside one another, enjoying the company, while stuffing their brains with as much knowledge as they could fit.

“Why don’t I go make us some popcorn? And then we can catch up on The Bachelorette episode that we missed last week.” Gilbert suggested.

Anne smiled appreciatively and Gilbert took that as his cue to head into the kitchen and begin his preparations. 

While he was gone, Anne took a minute to reflect on how much their friendship had grown since that first fateful day in the coffee shop. In the beginning it was just a few texts back and forth, asking about homework questions or notes, and then it somehow progressed into studying at the library together, and then later, hanging off campus, without any textbooks or assignments in sight. Now, less than two months after they had met, laying on her couch and watching stupid reality shows (currently their favourite was The Bachelorette but Keeping Up With the Kardashians was a close second) together had become a regular thing. Anne couldn’t pinpoint how or when they became so close, all she knew was that she was more comfortable around him than she was around anyone else that she ever knew. She didn’t know what it was about him- maybe it was the way that he always made sure that she had eaten dinner when he knew she was too stressed out to think about food, or the way he always seemed to know when she wanted to talk about what was bothering her and when she wanted to be distracted- but being friends with him had just felt...right. She could now confidently say that he had become one of her best friends. 

Anne was startled out of her thoughts by Gilbert placing a bowl of popcorn and a steaming cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of her. 

He took his rightful place at the opposite end of the couch than her so that she could stretch her legs out and tuck her toes under his thighs. Her toes were always desperately cold that over the several weeks that they spent together, they had come to some unspoken agreement that Anne would always warm her toes up under his legs. Gilbert smiled at her and gave the tops of her feet a soft pat before reaching for the remote and starting the episode.

--

Two hours, a bowl of popcorn, and one rose ceremony later, Gilbert clicked off the TV and looked at Anne.

“I can’t believe she chose him over the other guy.” Gilbert said, disbelievingly.

“What do you mean?” Anne argued. “He was way better than the other guy.”

“You just like him because he’s hot.”

Anne gasped.

“Gilbert Blythe, you take that back.” She said, sitting up to whack his shoulder repeatedly with the pillow that was under her head. “I do not base my opinion of someone on their looks and you know that.”

Gilbert laughed, reaching his hand out to block the assaults.

“Anne, I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Of course I know that” He continued to chuckle as he finally grabbed a hold on the pillow and threw it back at her.

“You’d better be.” Anne huffed, good naturedly.

She then moved to start tidying up the dishes that sat on the table. Gilbert also stood up, raising his hands above his head and stretching out his back that was stiff from sitting in one position for too long.

“Well, I should probably get going. Bash and Mary want to leave for their date night around 7 tonight. Are you sure you don’t want to come and watch Delly with me?”

“No, I wish I could. I have to work tonight, remember?”

“Oh right. You already told me that.” Gilbert blinked in recollection.

“Yes I know, Dear.” Anne said, patting his cheek in mock affection. 

Anne moved her way into the kitchen with the dishes as Gilbert went to pack up his things that were still in Anne’s room. She heard him shuffling around the front door with his jacket on by the time that she spotted his wallet on the kitchen counter.

“Okay, Anne. I’m on my way out, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Gilbert called from the entrance.

“Gil, wait!” Anne exclaimed, grabbing his wallet and rushing to the front door to catch him before he left.

She found him still standing by the door, with his hand on the handle, head twisted towards her expectantly.

Anne tucked the wallet and both of her hands behind her back before saying slyly, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows and paused, confused. Slowly, he took his handle off the doorknob and turned to face her.

“Uh...I...uhh.” He said, clearly unsure of what she meant.

He took a few tentative steps towards her until he was right in front of her. He then leaned down and placed a hesitant kiss on her cheek. Rising back up to his full height, he looked at her questioningly.

Anne’s cheeks went red but she laughed it off.

“No, I, uh, I meant you forgot your wallet.” She giggled, holding out the wallet to him.

“Oh. Oh! I’m sorry, Anne. I was really confused. I truly had no idea what you meant. I don’t know why my brain decided on a goodbye kiss. I didn’t mean-”

“Gil,” Anne reassured. “It’s really okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Gilbert smiled in relief before waving goodbye and making his exit. 

Anne took a breath once the door clicked shut. Her cheeks were still on fire and she couldn’t figure out why. She shakily raised her fingers up to where she could still feel his lips from moments before. She didn’t know why she was acting this way, this was normal, right? Best friends kiss each other on the cheek all the time. She couldn’t even count how many times she had kissed Diana. It shouldn’t be a big deal, it was what best friends do.

Then why was this so much different?

--

#awae #awae season 3 #awae s3 #awae spoilers #awae fanfic #anne with an e #anne with an e s3 #anne with an e season 3 #shirbert #shirbert ff #shirbert fanfic #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #awae fic #awae ff

[riven-hook]

Request from @starjane312 : Can I get 2 and 4 please?

Part 1: Request 2

Are thirsty Y/n? - Harry Hook xfem!

“How many more orders?” I asked my best friend Uma, as she rushed round, picking plates up from vacant tables. “One more, do you think you could do it?” She asked, a desperate smile written clearly on her face. I grinned and nodded, pulling a piece of paper off from the counter and reading it, I squinted hard as I tried to read Uma’s handwriting. Making my way towards the kitchen, I dumped a bunch of fried clams and oysters onto a sliver tray, that had turned slightly brown due to the rust and dirt moulding onto it.

I walked out of the kitchen and dumped the tray in front of the impatient customer. “Took your time didn’t you?” They said, frowning at me and sticking their nose in the air. “Yes, and I could take my time, shoving my fist up your ass..” I threatened, making them back away slightly. “Easy girl” Uma said from behind, trying not to laugh.

“And now, I’m off the clock!” I said, throwing my hands in the air and slumping down into the seat behind me. “Where is your mom anyway? I thought she was the owner of the place?” I asked, looking behind Uma towards the back of the shop, where Ursula would normally sit and flick through TV channels even though there was only ever one thing on: Auradon News. Like anyone would care what’s going on in Boradon. “Well, you know my mom, she isn’t really one for the kitchen” Uma said, sitting down in the seat next to me. I gave her an unsure look and she sighed. “Okay, she just can’t be bothered to run this dump” she said, making her lips into a line. I laughed and looked around the shop. It was true that it was a dump. Rust and moss grew from the corners of the room, left over food and drink had fallen off of the tables and how now become apart of the floor and half of the left side of the building was gone, due to the weather situations on the Isle of the Lost.

As my eyes twirled around the room, they landed on a specific man, sitting at a table with his friends. Your typical tall, dark and handsome, his eyes were like the ocean and they sparkled like sapphires. His messy, dark brown hair, covered his forehead and eyebrows and thick, black eyeliner coated the outside of his eyes, making him look more mysterious. He wore a tatted, grey shirt with countless holes in it and black ripped jeans, with chains dangling from the pockets. Over the top of his shirt he wore a sleeveless red jacket that showed off his huge biceps really well. Not to mention the silver hook he held on his left hand, opposing to his father.

Harry Hook. The Isle’s Heartbreaker, the Isle’s ultimate bad boy. He worked here also, but I never managed to get a word out to him, purely due to the fact I had a monster crush on him, for years now. He was one of Uma’s best friends and first mate, he also seemed to be the only one completely oblivious to my crush. Uma found out straight away, just by the way I smiled when he first walked into the shop, Gil took a bit longer but eventually worked it out when he saw me doodling his name in my journal with a bunch of love hearts circling it.

As much as I’d liked to, my dad had warned me not to go anywhere near him, due to his reputation. He was just like his father, people said, a flirt, a tease, a Hook. It was in their blood, and damn was he bloody good at it.

He sat with Gil, his best friend, and a few other members from the crew. I hadn’t even realised that I had been staring this long until Uma, slung an arm over my shoulder. “Are you thirsty Y/n?” She teased. Immediately, I pushed her arm away from me and hid my face in my hands, already feeling the pink tint on my cheeks. Uma laughed as I lifted my head up slightly to see if anyone had heard and much to my embaressment, I looked to see Harry staring at me, his eyebrow quirked before he smirked and winked at me. Uma tightened her grip on my arm and squealed. “He likes you!” She whispered into my ear.

#harry hook #harryhook prompts #harry hook x reader #uma descendants #imagines #harry hook imagines #Spotify

[eviesmyspiritanimal]

Paint It Pink

Summary: When Mal, Evie, Uma, Audrey, Jane, and the rest are all hanging out at Evie’s house, they get into a rather interesting conversation about whether boys or girls should be the bosses. Soon enough, they’re launched into an all-out paintball war as they struggle for dominance. Huma, Bal, Jarlos, and Jaudrey but ultimately friendship and family feels. Warning: an attempt at fake suicide.

  “Yo, Whitey Tighty, get me a coke!” Uma called to the white-haired boy over nearby the fridge in Evie’s kitchen. Carlos looked at her strangely and furrowed his brow.

  Currently, all of the group was gathered in Evie’s house for a relaxing evening to just enjoy one another’s company. Evie, Mal, and Ben were relaxed on one couch while Uma, Harry, and Gil were on another. Jane, Audrey, Jay, and Carlos had been sitting on the opposite one to the Sea Three’s. That is, until Carlos got up to go get himself a drink.

  And now Uma was demanding that he get her one as well.

  “How about a please?!” Carlos questioned loudly, unappreciative of Uma’s bossiness.

  “Oh, go please yourself!” Uma replied to him with a dismissive wave of her hand, despite the fact he couldn’t see her. Mal raised an eyebrow at the other girl from her position with her head on Evie’s lap and her feet on Ben’s, and Uma smirked at her.

  “I’m not somebody’s servant,” Carlos smartly replied, but he nevertheless withdrew a drink for the pirate and himself.

  “Ah, yes. Good boy. Now I know who to go to for getting my bunions scraped,” Uma declared, and Mal snorted a bit in response to the pirate. Evie rolled her eyes slightly.

  “I’m not scraping your bunions,” Carlos replied to her, and Uma just raised an eyebrow.

  “Why not? You should be an expert since you did it so much for your mother,” Uma informed him, and Carlos just ignored her as he sat down next to Jane who wasted no time in taking his hand in her own.

  “Dadgum. You know, it’s a good thing my boys listen, ain’t it?”

  “Does that mean we’re your servants?” Gil questioned worriedly, and Uma just gestured flippantly at the boy.

  “Gil, please. You practically signed your soul over to me when you became part of my crew,” Uma sassily replied.

  “I don’t recall tha’ bein’ part of the deal,” Harry piped up, and Uma looked at him almost offendedly. She then turned her gaze to Mal.

  “Look at this, Mal. This is ridiculous. These menfolk getting out of hand. You know what I mean, don’t you, girl?” Uma questioned desperately and almost dramatically as she looked over at the faerie.

  “No, not really. Ben always does as I tell him,” Mal informed Uma, and Ben immediately turned his gaze to her in surprise.

  “Yeah, it’s practically me and M running the kingdom,” Evie expressed with a grin, and Ben furrowed his brow, unappreciative of the two girls and their determinations.

  “Wow. Harry Barry, you need to take some lessons,” Uma told him, smacking his stomach lightly, and Harry sighed a bit in response, unimpressed with his captain.

  “I wish Jay would mind that well,” Audrey expressed, offering Jay a slight glare of irritation.

  “Well, dear, I think you’re forgetting that I usually do because you spend the majority of your time nagging me to death,” Jay replied to her, and Audrey’s mouth fell open in shock as she glowered at the boy.

  “I-I think we should all just work together and help each other equally,” Jane expressed, but her opinion was quickly lost in the midst of the uproar that had started with some of the rest of their group.

  “I think that y’all are getting out of hand. I am the captain, remember?” Uma told Harry and Gil.

  “But that doesn’t make us your servants, does it?” Gil questioned confusedly, and Harry immediately shook his head in response to the other boy. Uma just growled under her breath as she cut her eyes in the Gil’s direction.

  “And, Jay, how dare you accuse me of nagging?!” Audrey demanded, and he rolled his eyes as he scooted forward a bit.

  “Alright, look, I’m not talking about this and letting it blow up into another one of our giant explosions or whatever. I still remember the last time we were all hanging out and we got into a bit of an argument. My stomach’s still suffering from that prank cake,” Jay spoke up, interrupting things before they could get too heated.

  “Carlos, how’s your new paintball game on your PlayStation?” Jay asked, pointing to Carlos as he directed his attention to his little brother.

  “Of course. The new topic of conversation is video games,” Uma muttered under her breath. Carlos shot a dirty look in Uma’s direction before replying.

  “It’s really great. It’s a first-person shooter, and the graphics are stellar,” Carlos described, and Jay nodded as he grew more engrossed in the conversation. Ben looked at Carlos oddly, and he leaned forward a bit.

  “Is there character customization?” Ben questioned curiously, and Carlos nodded emphatically.

  “Totally, dude, it’s so awesome!” Uma rolled her eyes, sharing a glare with Audrey.

  “Multiplayer?” Harry questioned, and Carlos grinned widely as he offered affirmation to Harry’s question.

  “I think we need to meet up and play that one,” Jay expressed his opinion on the subject and Carlos laughed, looking over at the older boy.

  “Yeah, definitely. Shoot up the other team, am I right? Get your aggressions out!” Carlos aimed a fake gun and he made a few shooting noises. Uma’s eyes widened and a smirk came onto her face as she got an idea.

  “How about I’ve got a better idea?” Uma spoke up, and everyone looked at her.

  “What if we had a real paintball match?” Uma suggested, and Carlos suddenly looked quite thoughtful.

  “A paintball match?!” Jane squeaked, and Evie had a big grin on her face as she looked at Uma.

  “Ooh, that sounds fun… What do you think, M?” Evie asked, and Mal could see Evie’s eyes glowing with that competitive spirit. Mal sat up and moved her feet off of Ben’s lap so that she was sitting more closely to Evie.

  “Sounds good to me, E.”

  “You wanna be on my team?” Evie offered before leaning close to Mal and whispering playfully. “I have a high likelihood of winning, but with you, it’d be guaranteed.”

  Mal grinned at her best friend, and she slid an arm around Evie’s shoulders.

  “Sure. We’ll win,” Mal told her sister confidently, and Evie beamed.

  “I propose girls versus boys. What do y’all think?” Uma questioned, and Carlos nodded excitedly. Jay, Harry, and Gil seemed to be rather intrigued as well. The only boy who wasn’t so enthralled with the idea was Ben, and he looked somewhat apprehensive.

  “I don’t know about that,” Ben started to protest, but Audrey’s next statement almost completely made any effect of his words disappear.

  “And let’s make it a bet,” Audrey added, and Uma grinned wickedly at her. After all, Uma wasn’t through with their entire conversation about servants and who bossed who around, and she had a feeling Audrey wasn’t either if her sly expression was anything to go by.

  “A girl after my own heart, eh, Princess?” Uma questioned, and Audrey just shrugged a bit as she smiled smugly.

  “What exactly is the wager?” Jay questioned with an eyebrow raise.

  “The team that wins will have the other team as their servants for a whole day. You have to do whatever the winning team tells you to do,” Audrey firmly spoke, and Uma nodded approvingly.

  “That sounds fun,” Evie excitedly expressed, and Mal nodded. In fact, everyone except Ben and Jane seemed excited at the prospect of the battle. Once he had looked at all of the boys and seen that all except Ben were in favor of the idea, Jay nodded with a grin.

  “We’re in.”

  “Cool. And you guys will set up the gear?” Uma questioned, and everyone but Ben nodded eagerly.

  “Definitely,” Carlos answered with a sparkle in his eye. Uma leaned back in her seat with a slight smirk as she glanced at the other girls before returning her gaze to Carlos.

  “Perfect.”

   ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

      “I think I look like Katniss Everdeen,” Evie declared proudly as she fingered her braid before lifting her gun with a raise of an eyebrow. Mal looked over at her sister, taking in Evie’s pose. Evie looked at Mal and she bounced one eyebrow playfully. Mal immediately laughed at her, and she side-hugged the girl tightly, pressing her forehead to the side of Evie’s head.

  However, to her surprise, their helmets clanged together hard, and they both jumped a bit in surprise before giggling again.

  It was two days later, and all of the girls were gathered around the edge of their chosen field in the dead zone as they made the last few preparations to their uniforms before they went out to meet the boys who were already finding their positions.

  Evie and Mal had went out together to go and buy the group some armor pieces. Particularly, they had helmets, chest armor, and shin guards.

  “Well, I’m glad you do. I look more like the Michelin tire man,” Audrey proclaimed in a bit of a whine, and Evie shook her head as she started to say something.

  “It’s an improvement, honestly,” Uma replied immediately, interrupting Evie. Audrey narrowed her eyes and growled under her breath as she set her jaw in irritation. Uma strapped on the last bit of armor as she turned around to face the rest of the girls.

  “Okay! We ready to whoop some boy behind?” Uma questioned as she looked at the lot of them, her hair pulled back just a little as she gazed at them with her helmet lifted.

  Audrey rolled her eyes as Uma tried to look imposing and intimidating with her gear.

  “No!” Jane whimpered, her mask already down as she fearfully hid behind it. Uma just offered Jane a slight smirk.

  “Then let’s do this,” Uma spoke, flipping the visor part of her helmet down before leading the way over to where the boys were already standing. Evie and Mal followed suit, closing their helmets, and Audrey just scoffed, but copied their movements as she went after them and dragged Jane behind her.

  “Took ye long enough!” Harry called out in a taunt, and Uma rolled her eyes at him, unimpressed with his jeering as she led the group behind their big rock that would serve as cover.

  “Alright!” Jay called when the girls were in their positions on the battlefield.

  “We know the rules! One shot and you’re down, and don’t shoot anybody after they’re hit that one time,” Jay announced, and the girls expressed varying forms of agreement. “And after they’re hit, they head over there to the dead zone where they’ll wait until the match is over.”

  “We’re good?” Jay questioned loudly, but Audrey quickly raised her hand, and Jay looked at her.

  “And don’t shoot anyone in the head?” Audrey questioned, and Jay furrowed his brow.

  “What? No!” Jay replied, shaking his head as if that were the oddest thing he’d ever heard.

  “The beauty of this game, gorgeous, is that you can shoot anywhere!” Harry added with a wild look in his eyes, and Audrey suddenly lost all of her calmness about the idea of the paintball fight as her jaw slackened.

  “Are we ready?!” Jay shouted, and Mal and Uma gave out thumbs-ups in response to the boy as they ducked behind their rock. Ben shook his head quickly, and Harry just shoved him down behind their rock.

  “Let’s do this!” Uma called in response, and they all five jumped as Harry shot a paintball nearby Uma’s shoulder that hit the rock with a splatter. Uma wasted no time dipping down behind the rock to hide behind it more fully.

  “Huh. He’s a better shot than I thought,” Uma pointed out with a slight chuckle as she started to aim for the boys with her paintball gun.

  “AAAH!!! The paintballs splatter?!!!!” Audrey cried, and Uma looked at her strangely.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “And let me get this straight! They can shoot at our heads?!” Audrey demanded, and Uma looked at her with a slight chuckle and an odd glance.

  “Yeah, Princess, duh.” Uma then looked to Mal. “Is she not a fast learner? She obviously knows nothing about violent sport.”

  “Don’t worry, Audrey, you won’t be getting hit in the head today. I’m going to win this match easy!” Evie declared before starting to fire at any signs of movement around the boys’ rock.

  “What the— did they give us pink paintballs?!” Uma demanded, and Evie looked at her paintball gun strangely as she took in the fact that her gun did indeed eject pink paintballs.

  “Because you’re a bunch of girls!” Carlos declared, obviously having heard Uma’s question.

  Evie narrowed her eyes, and Mal watched as Evie’s entire stance shifted as her mind moved into competition mode. Evie aimed for Carlos’s head and she pulled the trigger like a madwoman, paintballs shooting toward the boys’ rock and covering it with pinkness.

  “Take that, you scumbags!!!” Evie cried as she unloaded on them. Mal and Uma paused, and Uma stared at her in shock.

  “Does she always do that?” Uma questioned as she jabbed a thumb at Evie as she bared her teeth and blasted the paintballs.

  “Pretty much,” Mal replied simply.

  “Remind me not to get roped into family game night,” Uma muttered with a slight laugh, and Evie shot back down to the ground as the boys fired some balls. Evie narrowed her eyes, and she looked as if she might hop over the top of the rock.

   However, Uma and Mal both grabbed her before she could begin to do that.

  “Evie, stop, you can’t go out there!” Mal told her best friend, and Evie looked at her confusedly as she gripped her gun firmly.

  “Why not? I might have a better chance at hitting the boys.”

  “Because you might get hit,” Uma told her, and Evie just laughed a bit.

  “Well, one person getting hit is no big deal. You and Mal and Audrey can go on without me as long as I hit two or three of the guys,” Evie informed the pirate, and Uma shook her head.

  “E, you don’t get it. First of all, we need you to stay in the game as long as possible because I kind of want to keep our whole team out of the dead zone. Second of all… Well, Evie, those paintballs hurt when they hit you,” Mal expressed, and Mal watched as the crazed look in Evie’s eyes slowly started to fade away as she seemed to realize the possibility for pain that was in this game.

  “Oh. Oh… That’s not… Well, that sounds not too fun,” Evie replied to Mal as she sunk down behind the rock next to Jane who was currently hiding behind the rock in a curled up ball. Mal nodded in agreeance and Uma rolled her eyes as she tried to position her gun a bit better over the top of the rock in case she could possibly manage to hit the boys.

  “The paintballs hurt?! As if it wasn’t bad enough with the mess!” Audrey proclaimed, almost completely hysterical. “And people make this out to be a fun game?! It should be called painball instead of paintball!!!”

  “Look, Princess, suck it up. By the time we’re through with this match, you’re going to have an ugly raised up bruised place on your body and you’re going to be messy,” Uma informed Audrey in a matter-of-fact tone as a paintball suddenly splashed nearby the girls and the paint shot out onto Uma’s hair.

  “Did ye hit ‘er?!” Harry gleefully shouted, and Uma narrowed her eyes.

  “Try again, Hook! You missed by a mile!” Uma cried in return, but she hid a bit better behind the rock as she looked at Audrey to resume their conversation.

  “Uma! Your hair has blue paint in it!” Audrey cried in unadulterated horror. Uma looked down at her hair, and she sighed slightly before shrugging.

  “It’s going to happen, and it’ll probably happen to you,” Uma informed the princess.

  “I can’t do this. My hair can’t do this! I can’t have my hair messed up! I CAN’T DO THIS!!!” Audrey screeched.

  “AAAH!!!!!” Audrey shrieked as she suddenly left from behind the rock, trying to get away for fear that her hair would be ruined by the paintballs. Mal and Uma shared a blank glance before looking back at the runaway princess. After a long moment, Uma just slowly shook her head as she stared at the girl.

  “Wow. That is purely impressive,” Uma commented in shock as they watched Audrey take off across the battlefield. Audrey ran, dodging paintballs as she took off screaming at the top of her lungs.

  However, after a moment, Gil jumped out from behind the rock, aiming for Audrey as he ran toward her. Of course, Audrey couldn’t do much about him because she had somehow or another ended up leaving her paintball gun behind. Uma smirked as she saw her opportunity.

  Before Gil could even begin to shoot the princess, Uma hit him in the center of his chest with a pink paintball. Audrey hadn’t stopped the entire time as she ran for her life and tried to escape.

  “Darn it, Gil!” Harry cried out, and Gil sighed deeply as he held his gun above his head and ran off of the field.

  “WHOO!!! First hit!” Uma called, and she could practically feel Harry’s glare at her.

  During this, Audrey was still running for her life, and Uma quickly noticed that Jay was peeking out from behind the rock in an attempt to shoot her. Mal apparently saw this as well, and she shot up so that she could see just above the rock, and she shot at Jay multiple times.

  But her paintballs very unfortunately didn’t hit Jay, and he ended up successfully blasting Audrey in the behind with a blue paintball.

  “OUCH! JAY!!!” Audrey screeched and held her paintball gun above her head as she glared at Jay. He just smirked wildly at his girlfriend, waggling his eyebrows, and Audrey growled as she fled.

  “Don’t hit me, please don’t hit me! I’m already fatally injured!” Audrey cried, and Uma rolled her eyes at the other girl’s dramatics.

  “Man, that diversion worked like a charm,” Uma informed the other girls, and Evie nodded with a slight smile as she looked at Uma and Mal.

  “I’ll say. And we didn’t even mean for it to be a diversion. Audrey just went nuts and ran,” Mal informed Uma with a slight laugh as she tried to get an idea of the boys’ position. Mal narrowed her eyes as she watched Carlos dart out from behind the boys’ large rock in favor of hurrying over to a tree that was closer to the girls’ place.

  Mal raised an eyebrow.

   “In fact, I think we need another diversion,” Mal spoke up, and Uma grinned widely, not knowing what Mal had in mind, but perfectly willing to hear it. Mal looked to Jane, and Jane’s eyes went wide as she stared at the purple-haired girl.

  “Why are you looking at me?” Jane questioned, and Mal smirked slightly.

  “We need you to run over to that tree,” Mal pointed to the one that Carlos was hiding behind, “and distract Carlos by telling him that you’re scared and don’t know what to do.”

  “Oh, I get it! Lure him out from behind the tree and then we blast him, right?” Uma questioned, and Mal grinned. Evie just looked between the both of them and shook her head as she reached around and tried to ensure that her braid was still firmly intact so that she could avoid as much disaster to her hair.

  “Isn’t that a little cruel?” Jane questioned worriedly, and Mal shook her head.

  “All’s fair in love and war, dear Jane,” Mal muttered as she repositioned her mask a bit.

  “Get out there now, okay? We’ve got to win this,” Mal informed the other girl, and Evie sympathetically squeezed Jane’s shoulder.

  Jane sighed deeply, and after a moment, she rushed out, trying to hide behind different trees as she approached the de Vil boy.

   Before long, she was nearby him, and he jumped out from behind his tree, about to shoot. However, he froze as soon as he realized it was Jane.

  “Jane?! What are you doing?!” Carlos questioned, obviously not thinking that Jane would try to actively participate in their game.

  “This is scary! I’m scared!” Jane proclaimed, and Carlos’s eyes softened. Jane truly hated to do this to him, and she wished that literally anyone else could’ve taken the job instead of her.

  He stepped a bit closer to her, and to her shock, he was suddenly covered in pink paint all over his stomach. His eyes went wide and he gaped at his front.

  “WHOO!!! Nailed it!” Uma whooped victoriously, and Jane offered Carlos an apologetic glance. He just narrowed his eyes at Uma and groaned before running off to go and join Audrey and Gil in the dead zone.

  “Y’know, I’m starting to not mind that our team color is pink. It’s extra embarrassing for those ‘manly men,’” Uma sarcastically referred to the boys before laughing heartily.

  Jane just watched Carlos running for the dead zone, and she looked down at her shoes, feeling terribly guilty, but she suddenly jumped as a paintball whizzed by her.

  “Crap, I missed!” Harry cried, and Jane quickly dove for the other side of the tree as she tried to avoid getting hit. Her blue eyes were wide in fright.

  “Jane, come on! Get back over here!” Mal cried, and Uma launched a few warning shots that hit the boys’ rock in an attempt to give Jane an opening so she could escape. Evie looked up at Mal, grabbing her hand as she got her attention.

  “M, she’s too scared,” Evie informed her, and Mal looked at Evie softly before nodding.

  “Jane, it’s okay, just run back fast! Uma’s stopping them!” Mal called, and Jane looked at Mal trustingly. She started forward, but before she could get too far, the boys nearly hit her again. Jane immediately flung herself back against the tree, breathing hard as she calmed down from the fact that she was almost hit with a paintball.

  Uma groaned deeply, and she fixed her mask more solidly upon her face as she readied herself to run out from behind the girls’ rock. Mal looked at her strangely, and Uma returned her gaze.

  “I’m going to go and get her. Cover me!” Uma called as she readied her gun. Evie scooted out of the way, holding onto her almost empty gun.

  Uma waited for only a moment before darting out toward Jane. Harry, and Jay immediately began actively firing at her with Ben hiding behind the rock fearfully. Mal started shooting intensely in response to the boys, and their fire was a little scattered since they were now spending more time dodging.

  Uma hurried over to Jane and she took the girl by the arm, trying to guide her out from behind the tree and back to the rock. She had almost made it halfway back when the boys managed to hit Jane in the back.

  “Oh!” Jane cried as it hit her, and Uma stopped for just a moment as she pushed Jane in the direction of the dead zone.

  “Get out of here, Jane!” Uma instructed, and she made a mad dash for the rock. Evie reached out for Uma’s hand in an attempt to pull her over to their side quickly.

  But to the girls’ surprise, Uma was suddenly splattered with a paintball, blue paint hitting Uma’s helmet and splattering onto the front of Evie’s helmet.

  Mal narrowed her eyes as she saw Harry standing there and laughing his behind off behind the rock, and Mal pulled her trigger quickly as she blasted Harry in the front of his helmet with a paintball.

  Uma stopped in frustration, growling under her breath, and Evie and Mal looked at her regretfully. Uma offered them a slight smile right before she looked over at the boys with a snarl. However, her grin quickly returned tenfold as she realized that Harry was heading off to the dead zone as well. Uma then returned her gaze to the two girls left behind.

  “Spank them like babies, okay, y’all?” Uma questioned, and the two left behind nodded resolutely. Uma offered a two-fingered salute before hurrying toward the dead zone where Gil, Audrey, Carlos, and Jane were currently seated and where Harry was currently running for.

  Suddenly several balls splattered nearby Mal and Evie, and they quickly dipped a bit lower behind their cover.

  “E, if we’re going to win this, we’ve got to get out from behind this rock and get closer to Jay and Ben,” Mal spoke, and Evie nodded in agreeance, somewhat distastefully wiping a bit of the splattered paint from her shoulder.

  “But where can we go?” Mal trailed off, looking around, and Evie squeezed Mal’s shoulder as she looked around as well. After only a moment, she caught sight of a place that would be perfect for them to hide at. Evie wasted no time in pointing.

  “M, look over there. There’s a rock that looks like it might be just big enough for me and you,” Evie told the faerie, and Mal followed Evie’s finger. She grinned at Evie widely and looked at her adoringly.

  “Awesome job, E. Let’s make a run for it,” Mal praised her best friend as she kneeled and peered just barely around the rock as she held her gun in her arm carefully.

  “One… Two… Three… Go,” Mal quietly told Evie, grabbing Evie’s hand tightly as she darted out from behind the rock. Evie wasted no time in running with Mal.

  “Aha! Give it up, sisters!” Jay called as he shot at them. Mal and Evie both tried desperately to dodge the paintballs, and just barely made it behind two trees as they paused for a moment.

  “Okay, E, let’s go again…. Now!” Mal called, and they both shot out from behind their covers. Jay immediately started shooting at them again, and Evie felt a paintball whiz by her head as Jay got dangerously close to hitting her. Evie was getting quite tired, and she was starting to realize that their rock was farther away than they had originally thought.

  “In just a second, let’s make a run for it again,” Mal told the other girl, and Evie nodded despite the fact that she was running a bit short on air. Before long, Mal jutted her head in the direction of the rock, and they both shot out from behind their trees as they made a run for it.

  However, to the bluenette’s shock, she tripped a bit in the midst of her running. Naturally, hearing Evie’s grunt, Mal paused as she considered running back to Evie, but Evie had managed to catch herself, and pushed Mal ahead as the paintballs whizzed by them.

  Soon enough, they reached the rock, and Evie nearly collapsed behind it.

  After only a moment, a paintball almost hit Evie’s head.

  “Evie, get down!” Mal cried, grabbing Evie’s shoulder and pulling her down to Mal’s level as yet another paintball flew above her head. They were both breathing hard, and Evie was beginning to think that she couldn’t take much more of this game if it consisted of more of this constant running, despite her competitive nature. If this would have been something like charades, Evie would’ve likely already cheated at it, but as it was, she couldn’t cheat in this game, so her hopes of winning were rather dashed.

  “E, we gotta keep going until we make it around so we can get a clear shot at the boys. This rock’s good, but we’re still not quite where we can reach them,” Mal informed her, almost as if she had read Evie’s mind. Evie furrowed her brow, raising up her mask slightly so that she could look at her best friend. Mal was peering from around the rock they were both hidden behind, checking to ensure that the boys hadn’t changed positions.

  “Why did we agree to do this in the first place?” Evie whined a bit, allowing a bit of her emotions to slip into her voice. This challenge was getting a little harder than she was quite prepared for.

  “Evie, just think of how wonderful and sweet that victory will be when it comes in the form of being able to make the boys wait upon us hand and foot,” Mal informed her, and Evie sighed a bit as she smiled just barely.

  “Besides… This is Mevie, remember? Mevie can do anything,” Mal told her sister with a loving grin as she took Evie’s hand in her own, lacing her fingers through Evie’s. Evie nodded slowly, feeling a bit of her resolve return to her.

  “Come out, come out! Ready to get smashed?!!!” Jay called as he shot a paintball nearby their hiding place.

  “C’mon, E. For some reason, we were the last ones standing on our team. I think it’s because me and you were meant to win this,” Mal informed her sister. Evie’s eyes hardened and she looked significantly more determined at the mention of winning. Mal smiled fondly, knowing that Evie’s signature competitiveness was lying just beneath the surface.

  “Let’s go kick their butts,” Mal told her, and Evie swiftly snatched Mal’s arm and pulled her back near the bluenette.

  “M, I’ve got an idea,” Evie informed Mal, and Mal furrowed her brow as she looked at her sister.

  “I’m going to run out and distract them,” Evie expressed, and Mal’s eyes widened as she shook her head.

  “What? No! Evie, are you crazy?” Mal demanded, giving Evie a onceover.

  “I’m going to run out and trip and fall on purpose. I’ll act like I’m hurt, and then we can shoot Jay because he’ll come running,” Evie explained her plan to her sister. Mal furrowed her brow as she moved just a bit to peer in the direction of the boys.

  “How do you know it’ll work?” Mal asked.

  “I don’t. We just have to take a chance,” Evie solemnly replied.

  “E, that’s suicide… And I can’t afford to lose you,” Mal expressed, and Mal almost thought it sounded like something out of a war movie. She was definitely getting a little too carried away in this game.

  “In war, Mal, some sacrifices must be made,” Evie told her, a dead seriousness to her voice. After a moment, she grinned, alleviating the tension. “Besides, you’re going to run out to check on me so it’ll really sell it, and then you’re going to shoot him when he comes out.”

  Mal couldn’t help but grin at Evie as she laughed.

  “Y’know, I love you,” Mal affectionately addressed Evie.

  “I love you, too.”

  “And you’re an evil genius,” Mal complimented her before squeezing the bluenette’s arm. “Now get out there and trick them.”

  Evie just offered one of those thousand-watt grins before taking off through the battlefield. Naturally, several paintballs were launched at her.

  Evie managed to successfully dodge them all, and after a moment, she decided it would probably be a good time to fall on the battlefield.

  Evie wasted no time in dramatically tripping and collapsing on the ground. Before Jay could shoot her, she cried out in pain, immediately reaching for her foot as she brought it up closer to her body.

  “AH!!!” Evie yelped, making sure that she sounded as hurt as she possibly could. Mal, ever loyally playing her part, rushed out to Evie, diving for her sister and hitting the ground hard as she crawled over desperately to the other girl. Evie had to give it to Mal. She could definitely offer a convincing performance.

  “Evie?! EVIE!!!” Mal cried, grabbing Evie’s mask where her cheeks would be as she looked her over. She wasted no time in taking Evie’s hand tightly, and Evie resisted the urge to smile. If she smiled, she’d no doubt soon laugh.

  “Evie? Is she okay?!” Jay called, and Mal didn’t respond, just shaking her head. Evie could see the slightest hints of a grin on Mal’s face as she removed her hand from Evie’s as she placed her hand on Evie’s thigh while she got a better look at Evie’s fake injury.

  “It hurts, M!” Evie yelped in what she hoped was a pitiful manner, but the end of her cry was interrupted a bit by a laugh. Fortunately, it sounded more like a sob than a laugh, so it worked to Evie’s advantage.

  “Evie?! Is she alright?!” Jay called louder, and Evie realized he was getting closer. Ben was even peeking out behind the rock somewhat curiously. Evie glanced at Mal, and the faerie simply brought both of her hands to her gun slowly.

  After only a moment, Mal turned and she blasted Jay. He wasn’t nearby, but he had just left from behind the rock, and before he knew it, he was shot in the chest with pink paint. His eyes widened and he stared at the girls blankly.

  Mal just laughed and Evie giggled along with her. Jay growled unhappily as he glared at the other two, the entire trick dawning upon him.

  “That was unfair! You used my emotions against me!”

  “Now, now,” Mal playfully reprimanded.

  “Who shot Audrey in the butt as she was running away to safety?” Evie called with a slight laugh, and Jay furrowed his brow as he paused. However, after a moment, he groaned, realizing that the girls were in the right.

  “All’s fair in love and war, Jay!” Mal told him.

  “Besides, we’ll never do it again,” Evie added with a sincere smile as she sat up and started to get up with Mal’s help.

  “Unless we’re playing paintball!” Mal laughed, and Evie nodded in agreeance. Jay just rolled his eyes, knowing that the girls had played fair or at least as fair as he had played.

  “Well, we’re not playing paintball anymore!” Jay announced as he hurried off toward the dead zone, but Mal could hear that he was not entirely serious.

  Mal and Evie shared a glance and shook their heads. However, after a moment, they both headed over to the boys’ rock, aiming on finishing it once and for all so that they could win their prize.

   They very carefully snuck around the edge, both of their guns pointed at Ben as they approached. Ben’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly.

  “No, no, no, don’t shoot, don’t shoot! I give in! I give up! You win!” Ben cried. Mal lowered her gun a bit, and then to everyone’s surprise, a blue paintball crashed straight into the visor of Mal’s helmet. Evie gasped as she stared at Ben.

  He looked just as surprised as Evie, but before he knew it, Evie had unloaded pink paintballs all over his front.

  As soon as she had emptied what was left in her gun, Evie pointed at him accusingly, a fire in her eyes as she glared at the boy.

  “YOU! You killed her! You killed her!!!” Evie declared, sounding almost crazed. Ben swallowed hard as he started to try to wipe paint from his visor.

  “It was an accident!”

  “Uh-huh, likely story! How dare you?!!! I loved her!!! And now she’s gone!!!” Evie cried, and Mal just furrowed her brow as she wiped the paint from her visor.

  “At least I won. But even my victory means nothing without her!” Evie spat, sounding as if she might cry.

  “I can’t go on in a world without her!” Evie announced before putting the end of the paintball gun to the side of her helmet and pulling the trigger.

  However, after several pulls, she realized it wasn’t working. Evie pulled the paintball gun away from her head and she examined it strangely. She groaned as she realized that she had emptied her gun.

  “Darn it, I wasted all my paintballs on you!!!” Evie whined, and Mal took off her helmet as she grabbed Evie.

  “E, I’m alive, and I’m fine,” Mal assured her, and Evie looked between Mal and Ben.

  “He shot you in the face!” Evie protested. Mal rolled her eyes and took Evie’s helmet in her hands as she pulled it off. She then grabbed Evie’s face in her hands and stroked her cheeks with her thumbs.

  “Of my helmet. Besides, this is a game. It’s a game, E. Chill out,” Mal told her, and Evie just sighed deeply. Evie’s warm brown eyes met Mal’s cool green ones, and they both shared just a tiny hint of a smile after a moment.

  “I guess I got a little too into it, huh?” Evie questioned somewhat sheepishly, and Mal chuckled under her breath as she squeezed Evie’s cheeks before letting her go.

  “Just a little,” Mal replied before she suddenly heard loud whoops and yells. Mal looked to the direction that the yells were coming from, and before she knew it, her and Evie were being grabbed by several sets of arms.

  “WHOO!!! WE DID IT!!!” Uma cried out victoriously as she grabbed Mal tightly. Evie was squished firmly against Mal as Audrey sandwiched the two best friends in the midst of her grabbing onto Evie and Uma. Jane hugged Mal tightly, and Mal grinned as she was surrounded by her team. She wrapped her own arm around Evie, and Evie quickly reciprocated the embrace.

  “So… I guess ye girls won, eh?” Harry spoke up suddenly, and the girls released one another to look at the guys. Mal and Evie were still holding onto one another, and they quickly noticed that the guys were all gathering around as well to face the girls.

  Uma grinned widely as she walked straight up to the pirate boy.

  “Sure enough. And you know what that means, Hook?” Uma questioned, getting as close to his face as her height would allow. His eyes darted down to her lips for just a moment, but they soon returned to her gaze.

  Uma grinned slightly, giving his face a onceover before stepping back.

  “You boys are ours for a whole day,” Uma told him with a confident smirk as she looked back at the other girls. The group smiled widely as they looked at each other. Uma then looked back at the guys.

  “Starting now. Now carry us to one of Ben’s limos and chauffeur us to Evie’s house.”

    ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

      It was a little later in the day, and all of the girls were reclined on the sofa at Evie’s house. And they had all of the boys working rather intensely.

  Jay was currently rubbing Audrey’s scalp, and she had her eyes closed as she was enjoying her treatment. Harry was brushing Uma’s hair carefully, and Ben was painting Evie’s and Mal’s fingernails and toenails. Gil was currently working as a footrest for Jane at Uma’s instruction.

  And Carlos was massaging all of the girls’ feet and was currently having to do Uma’s.

  “A little more fingertips, Jay,” Audrey instructed, and he complied. She smiled in satisfaction as she sunk down in her seat comfortably. “Ah… that’s nice.”

  “Now make sure you get all the tangles out. Gently, mind you,” Uma told Harry, and he continued through her hair a bit slower and more carefully.

  “Aww, these are so gross!” Carlos grumbled suddenly in a sour complaint as he coughed in response to the smell of Uma’s feet.

  “What did I say about complaining?” Uma questioned, cracking one eye open just barely as she raised an eyebrow at the de Vil boy. He just closed his mouth, rolled his eyes, and wrinkled his nose.

  “What I meant to say was by what miracle did I get the privilege to do this?” Carlos questioned in a falsely sweet tone as he squinted.

  “Because you’re best at foot care, and you seemed to have a problem with my feet,” Uma replied simply as she sighed deeply.

  They were quiet for a long moment before Uma finally spoke again, uttering the very sentence that started it all.

  “Yo, Whitey Tighty, get me a coke.”

  And all of the girls couldn’t help but laugh as Carlos now had to fetch Uma a drink.

#huma #bal #jaudrey #jarlos #descendants #d3 #d2 #descendants fanfiction #descendants fanfic #fic #fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #mal #evie #jay #carlos #uma #harry #harry hook #gil #ben #audrey #jane #humor #lol #haha #cute #funny

[paper-whales-writes]

Sandcastles

A/N: Hello everyone! I have been working on this for a few weeks (it just wouldn’t write right, you know?) and it’s finally ready for you guys to read! Remember if you have a request please feel free to send it in!

Pairing: Uma x Reader

Word Count: 1,366

The night is cool as you sit on the beach, just gazing out to sea. Your little spot is only safe haven on the Isle and you love it. It doesn't even face the coast of Auradon, which is a plus considering seeing the shore of the rich and plenty is always a slap in the face.  Your little beach is also the only place you can shelter from your mother: The Queen of Hearts. While she's haughty and unpredictable on the best of days, her mood swings are getting even worse after Mal and her cronies wasted their chance to set the Isle's inhabitants free. Which means you have been escaping to your beach retreat more and more. "After all these years, you still sit here?" A voice sounds from the dunes behind you, littered with waste from the Isle. Whipping round, you notice your childhood friend standing in a clump of wiry dune grass.  "Hello, Uma." You say, smiling slightly before turning back to face the ocean.  "I haven't seen you in a while, Y/N. You never visit the shop anymore." She replies, moving to sit next to you.  While your legs are crossed, Uma's are spread outwards; heels digging into the sand. Even in your childhood, she has always been more assertive than you. Which, to some could be strange considering that you are a daughter of one of the most assertive queens in loving memory. But you've always been afraid to be your mother. "How long has it been," you ask after a few moments "since we've seen each other?"  Neither of you look at each other; instead choosing to gaze into the large expanse of sea. You wait for her answer, letting handfuls of sand drain through the gaps in your fingertips. For you, this is one of the most relaxing actions one can do on the beach - a tingling sensation that grounds your thoughts and stops you from flying off into your dreams and desires.  "It's been over six months, I think. Just before Mal and her goons packed off to Auardon."  You nod, lightly. "Wow, that long... huh."  When you were younger, yourself and Uma were inseparable. In fact, the majority of your childhood memories have Uma in them. From play-battling across the Isle, to sleeping on this beach under the stars, you wouldn't be who you are if it weren't for Uma's friendship. But sometimes, frustratingly, you wish that it could be something more than friendship. In truth, it's this fact that has had a hand in the cavernous gap between you both. Never knowing where you stand with people is something you cannot deal with, so it just seemed better to cut off ties with Uma at the time. Besides, there's little to no room on the Isle for love and romance. Only gang activities. "Where did you go, Y/N? I can't deal with the Isle, without my best friend." She finally turns her gaze away from the ocean and towards you. Her face imploring and almost, slightly, wounded.  It's not often that Uma allows people to see her vulnerabilities... but then again, you've always been the exception to the rule. Is that what love is? Bending the rules of normalcy?  You're not overly sure. Sighing, you turn your gaze even further away from her imploring eyes. "Where I've always been. You just didn't bother to look."  She inhales a sharp breath. "Is that what you think? That I couldn't bothered to see you?"  "Business comes first right?" You say, before getting up from your spot on the beach. Sighing lightly, you start to walk away from Uma. There's no point pouring salt into an open wound, right? Yet after a few steps away, a hand grasps your wrist with a desperate strength. Turning to look at her, you notice how open and pained her face is; all facial features scrunched up as she tries not to cry. "Stay, please. You're the only one who knows me. Please stay with me."  Had anyone else been around, you would've set no. But you're alone. On the beach. With the only sound being the waves and your frantically beating heart.  "It'll never be the same, Uma. We're not children anymore - we've grown apart." Her hand snakes away from your wrist as she prepares for separation. In the gap of conversation, her hand floats there; wanting to reach for something more.  "Then let's do something like we used to do when we were children... Wanna build a sandcastle?" Finally, her awkward hand finds some use: gesturing towards the enormous swaths of sand. Your lips quirk upwards, "Okay. Just like when we were children."  ---- "No! The sand is already wet enough! If you add more it'll break!" Uma exclaims, waving her hands to stop you from adding another palm full of sea water. "Are you sure?" You reply, aware of water droplets running down your hands and dripping onto the sand. "You haven't got the best track record with building sandcastles, Uma!"  "I swear Y/N, why won't you let me forget that! But you put anymore water on the sandcastle and I will throw you in the sea! You know I will!" She laughs; giving you a mock glare. "Oh really?" You smirk, willing to push her limits. "I swear Y/N!"  Stalking forwards, you pretend to open your palms over the wonky sandcastle and laugh as Uma winces. Yet, as you close your eyes in your laughter, your foot slips; causing you to cascade head over heels and collide with all your hard work. "You flattened it!" From being sprawled out on the floor, you can see Uma shriek and pull on her braids in shock.  But you can't do anything but laugh; rolling around the floor at her painted expression. No one but you - well maybe Gil and Harry - gets to see her like this and that makes it even funnier. While most of the Isle fears Uma, seeing her for an ambitious, cunning girl, you get to see her as she's always been: competitive and capable of making you cry with laughter.  "You think it's funny, do you?" Her voice is still light with amusement but has an edge of a smirk - the voice she uses around everyone but you. Yet, you're still too busy laughing to fully notice. All up until you're scooped up off the ground and jiggling in Uma's arms as she laughs. It takes you a few moments to realise where she is headed, but as soon as you see the sea getting closer and closer, you start to squirm in an attempt to get away. Attempts that, by all accounts, fall horribly. Because soon Uma is waist height into the water and threatening to drop you with a cheeky grin. "Uma, no! I don't wanna get wet!" You wail, wiggling and kicking your legs to no avail.  "Tough luck Y/N! It's what you get for ruining my pride and joy!"  "That dodgy sandcastle? That's your pride and joy?" You bite back, still squirming.  "That was a perfect sandcastle! But for calling it dodgy..."  Splash. Into the ocean you go! Every part of your body is submerged in the cool, dark expanse of water. Sputtering as you surface, you are greeted with the sight of Uma laughing above you; with the ends of her braids being dunked in the waves.  "I can't believe you did that! You're an absolute scoundrel!" You exclaim, splashing her. "But you love it!" She laughs, pulling you up beside her. "Hmmmm, do I?"  "Of course, you do!" She says, hands encircling your wrists as she draws you ever closer. "Because I'm your scoundrel." Grinning alongside her, your murmurs of "I like the sound of that, scoundrel." Before your lips join in a sweet, salty kiss. Pulling away, Uma's smile nearly splits her face. "I've been waiting years to do that."  With a light caress to your cheek, she murmurs: "We should go back, dry off..." "Kiss some more?" Asking with a quirk of your brow and lips.  "Yes, kiss some more."

 Hand in hand, you wade through the waves; back to the sandy shore.

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