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kalimagik · 4 years

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Strawberry

Fred Weasley x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Requested by @coffee-wihtout-caffeine - “Can I request Fred x reader where it’s throughout her pregnancy with supportive Weasley family? Like the entire pregnancy just bits through each month and dealing with the symptoms. Tia”

A/N: I had SO much fun writing this. I was so excited the whole time (i love babies and think pregnancy is beautiful, so I may have gotten carried away). It’s super fluffy, has something for each month, and a whole lot of cute Fred and a supportive Weasley family! It’s not my usual writing style, but still so fun. Feedback is always welcome! Comment, like, reblog! Happy Reading <3 (also, I got too excited to wait til tonight to post it, so its coming early)

Month 1

It had to be the stomach flu, what else could it be? Fred left you in bed that morning after you spent most of the night with your head over the toilet. You racked your mind, trying to figure out where you would have caught the stomach flu. That’s when it hit you. Running to the nearest convenience store, you bought the tests, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other 3 that sat on the vanity, all positive. No, you and Fred weren’t trying for a baby, but you weren’t not trying either. A baby…you were going to have a baby, Fred’s baby.

The butterflies in your stomach were going to have a roommate. The thought made your lips curl into a grin as you looked into the mirror. A baby! Now you just had to tell Fred. Knowing you had a few hours, you rushed around the house like a mad woman. The rest of the day consisted of picking up, making dinner, and making yourself look presentable and not like you had spent most of the day in bed. The day also included throwing up every now and then, but you were actually kind of excited each time because it was just a reminder of the little boy or girl growing in your stomach.

When Fred walked through the door, you had your favorite “Love Songs” playlist playing, the dinner table set, and candles lit throughout the entire flat. “Is someone feeling better?” Fred called out above the music.

“Freddie! I’m in here,” you sang, still cleaning up pots and pans from dinner.

“What is all of this?” Fred asked, eyes widening at the sight laid out in front of him. “Did I forget an anniversary or something?” he chuckled, knowing very well that he didn’t. “This is wonderful, love. But, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Just sit down and you’ll find out!” You beamed, bringing Fred’s favorite food to the table, his mother’s meatballs with onion sauce with a treacle tart and cream puffs on the side for dessert.

“24 hour stomach flu pass?”

“Uhhh, for the most part,” you skirted around the subject a bit. You had a plan to tell him about the baby.

Dinner went by with your usual conversations about the day, the shop, and how George and the rest of the Weasleys were doing. When tart had been dished out, you stood up from your seat and went behind the couch to get your little gift.

“Okay, what is going on?” Fred asked, now confused as to why he got his favorite dinner, dessert, and now a present. “Did you do something I should be angry about? Did someone else do something that I should be taking credit for?”

“No, silly,” you giggle, sitting the present in front of him. “Just open this!” You watch him intently while standing as he takes the tissue paper out of the bag and unwraps the first little gift. The white tissue paper fell to the floor as he unfolded a little white onesie that read “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“What’s this for? I’m not going to be an uncle or something am I? Is George around here trying to punk me?”

You just shook your head, an amused, close lipped smile set on your face. “Open the next one.”

Fred stuck his hand back into the small, blue bag and pulled out the long box that had probably once held a bracelet. When he pulled the lid off, there was the 4th and final positive pregnancy test that you had taken earlier in the day. Fred looked up at you, eyes wide. The hand not holding the box with the test reached for the onesie as he put two and two together.

“Are you- Is this? Does this mean-” You just nodded as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m pregnant,” you told him with a laugh/cry. Honestly, you weren’t sure what the noise was, but it was a happy one. Fred flew out of his seat so quickly to embrace you that his chair fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked again once he finally let you go and stopped kissing your face. You could only nod as the happy tears streamed down your face. “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t hug you so hard. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little lad or gal would I?”

“I think the little Weasley will be okay,” you smirk, hugging Fred a little tighter.

“So when can I tell George?”

You laugh as you kiss Fred’s cheek. “Not just yet, darling. Let’s see a doctor first”

Month 2

“So I can tell Georgie right after this right?” Fred asked as you sat in a room at St. Mungo’s waiting for the doctor.

“I enjoy you pretending to wait for my permission when I know you already told him,” you laugh, squeezing Fred’s hand while he helps you onto the chair for the mothers to be. “He was not very subtle when I came by the shop the other day. He was talking about inventing baby friendly products for the shop.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically at the memory.

“Okay, I may have apparated to our little flat above the shop where he was at the time after you fell asleep the night that you told me.” He pouted, looking for forgiveness from you.

You had to stifle your giggles when the doctor knocked on the door to let you know that she was entering.

“Good afternoon Y/N,” she smiled at you as she pulled out the contraption for looking at the baby’s growing form. “I see you have Fred Weasley with you again.”

The last appointment, he may or may not have dropped a dung bomb that made its way into his jacket pocket accidentally on their way out.

“Hello there, Dr. Woodson,” Fred grimaced. “Good to see you again. Don’t worry, I double checked my pockets before coming this time.”

“Very good,” your doctor nodded curtly. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”

Your doctor talked you through the images that you and Fred saw on the screen. “Your baby is now about the size of a pomegranate seed since you’re in the 6th week,” she finished. You sat and watched in awe. The baby was so much bigger than just a few weeks ago when you were in for the first visit that confirmed your pregnancy. “Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Woodson asked at the end of the appointment.

You shook your head, already having read all about it in the pregnancy books you had bought a few weeks earlier. Fred was the one to pipe up. “So, my brother’s wife was pregnant a year ago or so, and she got really, really cranky. Is my wife going to do that too?”

“Fred?!” you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the arm.

“You see, it’s already starting a little bit and I was just wondering how bad it will actually get.” He continued ignoring you.

Your doctor chuckled slightly before she stood up with your charts in hand. “It was good to see you both again. Y/N, you can schedule your next appointment at the front desk on your way out. Send me an owl if you have any questions or concerns.”

After saying goodbye, Fred helped you off the chair, even though he didn’t have to, and you dressed back into your clothes that were not yet maternity wear, but starting to get a little snug in some areas.

“All ready, love?” he asked after you dressed.

“Let’s go.”

Month 3

“Are you ready?” Fred asked as you stood at the door of his childhood home. He was grinning from ear to ear. Today was the day that the two of you had decided to tell his family about the baby. You told your parents a few days earlier and they couldn’t be happier, but that was two people. Now it was time to face Fred’s parents, six siblings, and all of their significant others.

“Very ready,” you smiled back. Fred had been sitting on the edge of his seat for nearly a month whenever you visited. It was the end of your third month and therefore an appropriate time to start telling the family.

“Mum! We’re here!” Fred called out as he opened the door.

“OHHH! Y/N, Fred! Welcome. I’m so happy you both could make it!”

“We always come for Sunday night dinner, Mrs. Weasley,” you laughed while being buried into one of her notorious bear hugs.

“Woah there, mum. Don’t want to crush Y/N and our-” Fred cut himself off before he let the word ‘baby’ slip. Luckily, Molly was a blur around the house that she hadn’t even noticed. After giving Fred a quick hug, she called up to the rest of the family and feet began stampeding down the stairs.

“Wow, it is getting a little crowded in here,” you laughed as you hugged Ginny, Hermione, George, Ron, Harry and then Bill, Charlie, Fleur and little Victoire. “Even Teddy is here!” you smiled as you hugged the 3 year old with bright blue hair.

“The more the merrier is our motto!” Arthur Weasley boomed as he came into the kitchen as well.

“It’s a good thing that you think that way, dad!” Fred beamed, sharing a quick glance with George. At this rate, the family was going to learn the news before everyone even sat down for dinner.

Pre-dinner chats ensued and then Mrs. Weasley called them all from the living room to the table. That’s when she started handing out the wine. She had decided it was a special occasion because EVERYONE was at dinner. Bill and Fleur were in France the previous week and Charlie was back from Romania for a period of time. Even Percy managed to pull himself away from his busy work life. You looked at Fred with a small, close lipped smile, letting him know that it’s time to spill the news. Everyone would find out soon enough when you refused the wine.

You took your seat next to Fred with Ginny on your other side, leaning into Fred as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple. Then, he cleared his throat to get the 12 other people’s attention.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announced, raising his glass. “I can’t imagine this night being any better. Spending time with my amazing family, the extensions included,” he nodded to Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. “It’s a big family, but it’s about to get a little bigger. Currently a plum size bigger.” You nudged Fred slightly. He had been making fun of you for announcing which food your baby’s size matched each week.

“Oi, cut to the chase down there. I can’t hold it in for much longer! I’m bursting at the seams over here!” George hollered from the other end of the table.

Your smile grew as you made eye contact with Molly. You could tell she already knew what Fred was going to say, but was letting him break the news.

“Y/N and I are pregnant!” Fred’s signature grin was plastered on his face and you didn’t think that he’d been wiping it off anytime soon.

“This is brilliant!” Ginny cheered as she wrapped an arm around you. “I get to be an aunt, again!” she smiled at Victoire.

“Victoire,” Fleur got the little girl’s attention. “Yoo are going to be a couzin to a ittle boy or girl. Eesn’t zis exciting?”

“Ronald and I can babysit whenever you need a break,” Hermione offered, Ron nodding along, even though he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be with a baby around his fiancé just yet.

The congratulations and excitement lasted all through dinner. By the end, Bill and Fleur offered you Victoire’s baby clothes if you had a girl, Arthur said he could fix up the cradle they used for all their children, Molly had already started knitting a little hat and bootie set. It was crazy and chaotic, but you loved every second of it. This was your wild family now and the wild family that your baby would get to grow up with.

Month 4

You paced around your flat with a hand on your forehead and one on your stomach. You had just gotten back from your appointment, the high of telling the Weasley family about the pregnancy two nights ago still lingering. Of course, once you went to see Dr. Woodson, the feeling changed.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Dr. Woodson had said as she ran her wand over your stomach to look at the baby.

“What?” you asked. She’d never said anything like that before.

“It seems we may have missed something.” She pulled an image up. “Normally we would catch this earlier, but see that there.” She pointed and you nodded. “Well, there appears to be a second fetus and a second heartbeat that I must have missed before. Y/N Weasley, you are having twins!”

Laying down on the couch, you thought about what having twins would mean. Two of everything really. Fred and George’s shop was doing great again and they were acquiring Zonko’s in Hogsmeade too, so money wouldn’t technically be an issue. But, twins! They could be a little Fred and George exactly and that would be a handful. The doctor never said that they were identical necessarily, so you could have a boy and a girl.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” Fred sang opening the door.

“With your favorite brother-in-law!” George sang after him.

Both twins sat grocery bags on the table. “What’s all this?” you asked, mind still focused on the news you got earlier in the day.

“We have decided to cook you dinner!” George said triumphantly.

You looked at the identical faces that stood before you, both grinning at you. “Fred, we’re having twins!” you blurted out at them, not able to hold it in any longer. Fred dropped the bag he was still holding, apples and oranges rolling all over the floor.

“Twins.” He said, eyes glazed over, looking past you and at the wall, where the onesie that you gave him the day you told him you were pregnant was hanging.

“You’re going to have a mini Fred and I?!” George squealed in excitement. He shook Fred’s shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

“That we are!” you smiled, appreciating the enthusiasm. “Well maybe, we could have girls, or a girl and a boy. We won’t know until the end of next month,” you explained, rambling.

That’s when Fred went into total care mode. “Do you need to sit down? You should be sitting down. Mum always complained about what Georgie and I did to her body and how hard carrying twins was.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Freddie,” you giggled, “maybe YOU should sit down!”

“Yes, perhaps I shall, love.” Fred plopped down onto the couch as you went into the kitchen to grab him a cup of water. “Twins, wow.” You heard him breathe out in the living room.

“He is happy about it, just processing,” George whispered to you as he started to put your groceries away.

“I know,” you smiled, “he is going to make a great dad!”

Month 5

Your stomach was really bulging at this point. Two little ones growing in there. You were beyond excited as you slid on a maternity dress with sunflowers plastered all over it. It had become your favorite dress, comfortable, stretchy, it had pockets. But, today, you put it on for your gender reveal party. Originally, you and Fred were going to wait and be surprised by the sex of the babies, but Molly and even George changed your minds.

They agreed that once they received the news, Dr. Woodson would write the genders on pieces of paper, seal them in an envelope, and send them with an owl to Molly. Now, you were getting ready for that party. You were more going along with Fred when you originally said you’d wait to find out the sexes, but now you were giddy!

“Love, are you ready? Everyone is downstairs,” Fred knocked on his childhood door as he opened to take in the room that hadn’t changed in years. You followed Fred down the stairs, him holding your hand the whole way to ensure that you didn’t trip down the stairs. He may be loud, boisterous, and reckless usually, but since he learned about the twins, he treated you as if you were a china doll, it was so sweet.

“Surprise!” a hoard of people called when you exited the Burrow. The Weasleys had completely decked out their yard on the spring evening. Twinkle lights flooded the area with light as the sun set to the west. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had brought in tons of flowers that surrounded the tables. All the pinks and blues were bright as can be, signifying the news that was about to be shared with everyone, even the parents.

“Merlin! It’s beautiful! Thank you,” you beamed, taking in as much of the yard at once as possible.

The party was a blast. Blue and pink food. Cute little presents left out with yellows and greens. Tons of little Gryffindor attire, even though you’d be okay with your children being in any of the houses. But the time for the reveal drew closer.

“Y/N, Fred. Stand here,” Molly ordered them. “George is out back setting everything up.”

You were shaking with excitement. Your family and Fred’s family all held sparklers that lit the darkness. The colors reflected off of your and Fred’s skin. He glanced over at you and whispered, “You’ve been glowing this whole time, but you’re really glowing now,” before leaning down and kissing your cheek.

“Everyone ready?” George called from behind the hedge. “3…2…1!”

The sky exploded with fireworks of blue and pink. Your hand flew to your mouth as you took in the sight. “We’re getting a little boy AND a little girl, Freddie,” you laughed, happy to now know. Fred hugged you tightly, leaving just enough room for your protruding belly.

“We’re having a boy and a girl,” he repeated, grinning ear to ear. Everyone let the two of you have your moment before flooding you with hugs and congratulations.

Month 6

“Psssst, Freddie.” You whispered, peaking at the clock quickly. It read 1:30 AM…oops.

“Yes, love,” Fred whispered as he yawned before turning over and lazily slinging an arm over your body.

“I’m hungry…” you said, big, pouty, pleading eyes already in place as Fred opened one of his. “Will you pleeeeease get me some chocolate covered strawberries and the cheesiest nachos you can find?”

“That is the strangest combination that I have ever heard.” Fred grunted as he pushed the blankets down. “You sure you can eat both of those things?”

So far, you had found that you could no longer even look at any kind of fish, tuna was WAY out of the question, the smell of tomatoes made you gag, and turkey was a big no go. In fact, most meat was starting to make you queasy and you could only eat it sometimes.

“It’s what I’m craving, so I think so?”

“Sounds good, love. I’ll be right back.” Fred threw on some pants and a jacket and apparated out of the flat. You laid back in your bed, feeling extremely content as you pulled the blankets up to your chin just to throw them off. You’d been going from freezing to feeling like a million degrees every few minutes.

That familiar pop could be heard as Fred brought the food to you in bed. “Nachos and chocolate covered strawberries for my beautiful, glowing wife. We can never go back to the Spanish restaurant on the corner or the market next to it ever again. You don’t want to know how angry the owners were when I woke them up.”

You had already dug into the food before Fred could undress and get back into bed again. “Are you going to save me any?” he chuckled, sliding back into the sheets.

“Yes, you can have some.” You told him, mouth full and chocolate dribbling down your chin.

“Let me run to the loo before I go to bed again,” Fred told you, getting up once more. By the time he walked back into the room, you were there fast asleep, box of chocolate covered strawberries on one side and box of nachos on the other. Fred couldn’t stop laughing as he picked up the open food and wiped off your face before kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him.

Month 7

“FRED!! It’s so hot!” you complained. You could feel the sweat sliding down every inch of your body and you felt disgusting. You felt huge and being pregnant was not fun anymore. You were big, couldn’t move easily, and your ankles had swollen to three times their normal size.

In the July heat, you just felt terrible.

“Let me get you another fan and some lemonade.” Fred offered.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cranky with you,” you apologized to Fred when he came to sit back down next to you, handing you a glass of lemonade.

“You have every right to be cranky with me,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he had been doing so often now. “You’re carrying my babies. Speaking of which, we should come up with some names. It could be fun!”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax on the couch. “Yes, let’s do that!” Fred had already begun preparing the nursery and Molly and Fleur had sent over hordes of clothes. Planning was tiring you out, as fun and cute as it was, so maybe brainstorming names would be a blast.

“Now, George thinks we should name at least one of them after him. If we did that, we should name the girl Georgia because I think George would throw a fit if the girl was actually named after him. And then the boy could be Fred Jr.”

You looked dead eyed at Fred, not thinking his ‘joke’ was funny. “We are not making, no excuse me, forcing our twins to be mini-yous. Nope, not happening. Veto, next.”

“Okay, geez,” Fred chuckled as he took your hand in his own, knowing you would complain about being hot if he put his arm fully around you.

“Mhmmmm,” you thought out loud. “What about Andrew for the boy. You know, for my brother? I’d like to honor him after losing him 2 years ago in the war.”

“I think that would be nice,” Fred smiled softly at you. “Andrew it is. Andrew Weasley has a good ring to it. We can call him Drew for short too.”

“I think so too,” you agreed.

“Now, for a girl, this is a serious suggestion,” Fred prepared you. “Olivia. I’ve always liked that name.” he played with your fingers.

“Andrew and Olivia Weasley. I think it could work. That was much easier than I thought it was!” You laughed with joy.

“Fred, Y/N, Andrew, and Olivia. Our little family. You like your new names, kids?” Fred spoke to your stomach.

Month 8

“Nope, do not get out of bed!” Fred ordered after you tried to get out of bed. “Doctor’s orders. Plus, Mum is already here.”

Molly Weasley had been coming to your flat nearly every other day to help you and Fred around the house. Dr. Woodson placed you on bed rest the previous week and it was complete AGONY.

“But, Freddie, there is so much we still have to do. I can help.”

“Nope, George and I have it covered. Plus you know the rest of the family will help with whatever we need. You just sit here and rest. Liv and Drew are still growing in there.”

“Yes they are,” you giggled, rubbing your stomach. “I swear they were wrestling in there last night! They were being so active! Kicking and moving around. If these two fight during their entire childhoods, we will be in for some rough years!”

“I bet they will be best friends,” Fred smiled. “Look at Georgie and I! And, if they have any younger siblings in the future, they can team up against them.”

“I should hope not!” you scoffed. Your banter settled as Molly hurried into the room with a breakfast tray.

“Mum will take good care of you today and Ginny mentioned stopping by later, okay?” Fred told you as he kissed you goodbye. “I won’t be too late tonight. Everyone on Diagon Alley seems to know that you’re expecting, so even though business is booming, the shop is ready to be closed at closing!

“Sounds good, dear.” You replied, pushing the eggs to the side. You forgot to tell Molly that you weren’t eating those now because of the babies.

“I’ll take those for you,” Fred chuckled, eating your eggs, sipping some water, and kissing you one more time before leaving. “Have a good day!”

“Bye, hun,” you giggled again as she left. At least you had the company of all the Weasley guests throughout the days when he was gone.

Month 9

“They’re due any day, Freddie!” You squealed. You had attempted to jump a little, but that just made you have to pee, so you stopped that immediately. “When they get here, we can hold them all the time and I’ll be able to move freely!”

You had secretly begun doing the things that you hoped would speed along the delivery date. You were eating spicy foods, walking around when no one was watching you and forcing you back to bed, drinking raspberry tea, everything! Well, not everything. You had try to convince Fred to have sex with you the night before, but he refused. Said it was weird with two babies in there, even though you looked beautiful and he would love to.

You had just rolled your eyes at him in response, but you did try!

“You going to come out soon, little ones?” You asked your stomach. “At least one perk of being so large is that I can sit the box of chocolate covered strawberries on my stomach.” You hummed happily, eating another one of the treats that had been your favorites during your pregnancy.

You had eaten them so many times that Molly just started making them regularly for you so that Fred didn’t have to go buy them at all hours of the day randomly.

“Can I come to Diagon Alley with you today?” you asked hopefully. “I need to get out of this house. Everything is ready and I’ve been cooped up for too long.”

Fred stood there thinking, but you pleaded some more, getting him to finally give in. “Only if you promise to not walk around too much.”

“I promise! I’ll sit at Florean’s the whole time!” You drew and X over your heart to seal the promise.

You breathed in the air deeply as you took in the atmosphere of the Alley. The newer owners of the ice cream shop brought you more ice cream each time that you asked for some and whenever you tried to pay, they refused. Yet another perk of being pregnant.

Numerous people had walked by and chatted with you while Fred was at the shop and he came by every so often to check on you. It was a pleasant day. That was until an excruciating pain occurred in your stomach.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” you whined, hands immediately holding your stomach. “Excuse me,” you pulled one of the waiters aside. “Would you run down to the joke shop and get my husband, please?”

The trip to St. Mungo’s was a blur. Fred was holding your hand the entire way, helping you into your hospital gown, and just being an overall sweetheart as per usual. Molly Weasley and your mum filtered in and out of the room. It wasn’t until Dr. Woodson announced that just those going into the delivery room could stay that the chaos slowed. Even if it was just you and Fred in the room, you knew that every single Weasley and Y/L/N was in the waiting room and would be until your two children entered the world.

Four hours later, you had finished pushing, you had finished working your body to exhaustion. Four hours later, you held two little babies in your arms and they were beautiful. Fred’s smile was so wide and he was so proud as he took Andrew from you and then Olivia.

“You did beautifully, darling,” he whispered, looking at the two children in his arms. The tears were still streaming down your face, stupid post-birth hormones. “Are you ready for the family? They’ll come back in small groups.” You nodded laying your head back on the pillows. It was September 8th. The day your little family had its first addition of many.

You could see the little heads of Olivia and Drew peaking over the blankets as different family members held them. Their hair was strawberry red, just like your favorite snack.

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Little Kestrel (Part 6)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Virgil had started to feign sleep about an hour after Logan had left to his potions lab. Patton could tell he was faking because his arms never relaxed. Despite the boy no longer responding, he kept talking to him in soft tones. He seemed exhausted, but he was also clearly not planning to truly sleep any time soon. Patton wondered what had led up to him being here both recently, which had caused the dark circles under his eyes and long term that had caused the sunkenness of his cheeks.

Patton’s stomach growled, reminding him of the passage of time. He had no idea how long whatever Logan was doing was going to take, but someone was going to have to go to the kitchen and get some breakfast soon. The snacks truly had not been enough to hold them through the night.

He felt secure enough even knowing Virgil wasn’t actually sleeping to push himself to his feet and walk over to the potions lab door. “Hey Lo,” Patton called. Virgil still hadn’t moved to indicate he was still awake.

“Yes?” he asked.

“How long are you going to take? I need to get food soon and maybe come up with an excuse for at least one of us to stay here all day.”

“It’ll be a little while longer,” Logan said.

Patton glanced back at Virgil. He caught the boy with his eyes open this time and saw him wince at being caught. “Maybe Virgil can stay in there with you while I go get things?”

“That would be fine,” Logan said, turning back to what he was working on. “Bring him in here if you’d like.”

“Okie dokie,” Patton chirped. He turned to Virgil who was looking up at him. “I’m going to take your arms and lead you to the other room, okay?”

He nodded and Patton leaned down and grabbed his wrists. He got even tenser somehow when Patton moved his arms to his front and Patton frowned, but didn’t comment. He helped him get to his feet and led him into the other room.

“You can seat him over there,” Logan said pointing.

Virgil was looking around the room with wide eyes and Patton had to stop and think about what this room might look like to someone who hadn’t been enthusiastically introduced to every new potion ingredient and piece of equipment as they arrived. There were shelves of ingredients, all organized and labeled. Logan kept all powders in uniform glass vials and liquids in bulbous containers. Whole dried herbs hung from strings in one area and there were containers of fresh ones glowing a soft green; the preservation spells that Logan came up with himself kept them fresh for months longer than they would usually last.

Logan had three separate areas for potion making. There was one space for potions that required more dangerous ingredients which currently had something simmering at it, but the enchanted protective curtain wasn’t drawn around it, so Patton imagined it must not be doing anything that could be too harmful at the moment. The table he used for experiments was empty and thoroughly cleaned, so he was clearly making something with an already well-established recipe. Currently, he was standing at his table reserved only for non-harmful substances. He was chopping up what appeared to be mint as two smaller pots boiled in front of him.

Patton led Virgil over to the indicated chair which was out of the way of even the non-dangerous ingredient zone. He still seemed to be trying to take in the room as Patton settled his wrists on the chair’s armrests.

“Any requests?” he asked Logan.

“Not really,” Logan replied. He glanced up at Patton. “Though if you can sneak me some of the leftover macaroni salad from dinner, that would be appreciated.”

“That’s not breakfast!” Patton chided.

“Which is why I requested that you to sneak it.”

Patton shook his head and turned back to Virgil. “What about you?” he asked.

He looked up at Patton and shook his head. Virgil looked a bit scared and out-of-sorts. He wanted to reach forward and pat him on the head or kiss his cheek to comfort him, but he imagined that would go over worse than badly. Instead, he flashed the boy a quick smile and then turned to leave the room.

He left Logan’s private chambers and closed the door behind him before walking down the hall.

“Good morning Patton,” one of the stationed guards greeted.

He smiled at her and the other guard. “Good morning Kalani. Hi Owen.”

“I see you and the prince had a sleepover,” Kalani said. “Should we be planning on him not making it to his royal duties until later today?”

“Actually,” said Patton. “Maybe all day. He was feeling a little sick. Had a headache.” It was… probably true. They hadn’t slept a wink last night.

“Hmm,” Kalani said. “Maybe there’s something going around. Clover said she had a bit of a dizzy spell last night.”

“Oh,” Patton answered. Clover had been one of the two guards set to watch the door to the royal wing. At least Virgil had been telling the truth about not hurting anyone.

“I hope she feels better. I’m going to go get Logan something to eat for breakfast since he can’t come himself, so I’ll see you again in a few minutes.”

The guards nodded to him and he turned to walk down the hall. The areas around the kitchens would be pretty busy at this point in the morning so instead of taking any of the busier paths to it, he walked past the dining hall towards the guest wing and took the staircase that led straight outside. It was a longer path because he had to go around and through the garden, but it was worth not getting in anyone’s way.

Patton always did like the garden. It was pretty at every time of year. Even now as the flowers started to get sparser in the fall, it was still wonderful, and it smelt great. He took just the briefest moment to himself to splash a hand through one of the fountains with a giggle. He turned away to continue on his path to the kitchen, which is when he saw her.

“Oh,” he said softly. “Hi kitty.”

Ghost Kitty was there and stared at him briefly before taking off into one of the bushes.

“Bye kitty,” he said just as soft. He smiled even though she’d ran away because that was the closest, he’d ever gotten to her.

He continued his trek to the kitchen and snuck inside on quiet feet, hoping to be unnoticed as he went for the chilled storage box. Luck was on his side, because Mama was busy talking in hushed tones to the gardener, Mr. Deknis, as she peeled potatoes.

“Well certainly no one has joined the kitchen staff who has a child,” Mama said. “I’d know.”

“Perhaps a maid or even a guard,” Mr. Deknis suggested.

Mama was frowning. “We don’t usually hire many people towards winter for those positions. Maybe someone in the stables?”

“But he needed to get back to the castle, not to the stable hand’s lodging.”

“Well then,” Mama said. “I don’t know Jeff. I’ll ask around.”

Mr. Deknis sighed. “I should have asked him more questions, but the poor thing seemed ready to startle out of his boots, and I didn’t want to push.”

“Well if he’s new to the castle, he’s probably just a little out of sorts and nervous,” Mama reasoned.

“It didn’t seem like normal nervousness. He was…” Mr. Deknis shook his head. “Anyway, tell me if you figure anything out.”

“Of course,” Mama said.

“Also, your kid’s steeling macaroni salad for breakfast.”

“Patton!” Mama said, rounding on him. “That’s not breakfast!”

Patton shot a pout at Mr. Deknis, but he seemed unrepentant. Patton pulled his hand away from the macaroni salad. “The prince wanted it,” Patton said.

“That’s not breakfast for ‘the prince’ either.”

“But,” Patton argued, “he’s not feeling well.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Is he not feeling well or is he tired?” she asked.

“…Both?”

“Mmhmm.”

“No! Seriously mom!” Patton said. “Kalani said that Clover wasn’t feeling well this morning and she sees Logan all the time. I even convinced Logan not to do any unnecessary royal duties today.”

“Well he must really be sick if that’s the case,” Mama admitted, “unless of course he found an interesting book to read or had an idea for a new potion.”

“It’s not about a book or a potion,” Patton promised.

Mama considered him. “Fine,” she said, turning back towards the countertop. “Then give me a few minutes to make him and you a nutritious breakfast that doesn’t consist of 80% mayonnaise.”

“Pancakes?” Patton asked hopefully.

Mama shot him a look over her shoulder. “I said nutritious,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “Besides, I thought you said he was sick.”

“He’s not nauseous, mama,” Patton said. “And if you put blueberries in it, it’ll be healthy!”

“Mmhmm.”

“It will!”

“Now I know my own son doesn’t think I was born yesterday,” she said.

“Please mama,” he begged. “I promise we’ll both eat some other stuff too.”

“I don’t believe you.” Patton gave her a wobbly lip. “No,” she repeated.

“But Mama.”

“You and Logan are going to have a healthy breakfast or so help me…”

“… but Mama.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 7

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #past torture #captivity

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babycracker · 3 years

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 1

chapter rating: teen & up story rating: explicit pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy) word count: ~3k chapter warnings: none story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent

read it on ao3 here

Tanner's eyes narrow at the town sprawled before him. What was it called again? He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking the text message he'd received a few days ago. Wayhaven.

It's small. Smaller than he'd expected. Tiny compared to New York, where he'd been living for the past six months. How much trouble could a goblin get up to in such a small town? More importantly, how hard could he be to find?

He rubs his hands together, shoulders rolling slightly as he retracts his wings before reaching into his backpack to pull his shirt back on. He's still buttoning it when he steps out of the woods surrounding the town, eyes scanning the street from the tree line.

Should be quick, he tells himself. Get in, find Helk - or whatever he's calling himself while in hiding - and get out. Three days, tops.

He pulls a cigarette from the pack in his bag and lights up as he steps out of the cover of the trees before shouldering the backpack again and heading down the street. Pulling his phone from his pocket again, he brings up the last known location of Helk - in an alley behind some place named Haley’s Bakery in the centre of town.

The fingers of his free hand flex before he curls them into a fist at his side as he walks along the street, ignoring the curious looks he’s getting from passers by. Small towns, he hates them. The kind where everyone knows each other and he sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s always harder than necessary for him to get information out of people in these places.

His fingers feel strange without his rings, fidgeting as his hand swings beside his hip while he walks, and as much as he wants to just get on with it and find the damn goblin that had stolen them, he knows that it’s probably wise to try and be friendly and hope that someone’s seen something strange. That would make his job infinitely easier.

It would seem he's had a stroke of luck as he stomps out his cigarette and pushes the door to the bakery open and a short, fair and friendly looking woman smiles over at him. Being good looking definitely has its advantages.

“Hey there, handsome. Take a seat and I’ll be right with you," she exclaims cheerily, and he glances around the homey room, obviously decorated to be more welcoming than functional. He feels as though he’s in this woman’s living room. He disregards her offer and instead walks over to lean against the counter, watching her carefully as she goes about what she’s doing. She startles a little when she turns and finds him standing there, and he shoots her a charming grin in an attempt to put her at ease.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asks, the tiniest hint of suspicion in her eyes as she looks him over. He lets out a light chuckle and shakes his head.

“That obvious, is it?”

She doesn’t answer, just leans against the counter opposite him and gives him a small smile, his easy going attitude towards her obviously convincing her that he’s harmless.

“What brings you to Wayhaven?” she asks conversationally, standing up straight again to wipe her hands off on the front of the apron she’s wearing.

“Just looking for a friend. I heard he might be in the area. Say, you might be able to help me. You haven’t seen any other obvious out of towners around in the last couple of days have you?”

She shakes her head and gives him a sympathetic smile. “No, sorry hun. You could head on to the police station and ask around there though. The detective and the team he works with seem to always know the ins and outs of what’s going on around here before anyone else.”

Tanner tenses, his fingers twitching as he tries to avoid letting them ball into fists again. So the rumours are true. He’d heard there was a group of agents working with a detective human liaison in some tiny nothing of a town. Not ideal, to have to avoid trained agents while he’s running his own unapproved mission. He can work around them, though. They don’t even know he’s here, after all.

“Where can I find the station, gorgeous?”

She almost giggles and he struggles for a moment to keep from laughing at how easily he managed to get her on side. Hopefully the law enforcement in this town are just as easy and he won’t ever have to risk encountering the agents in the town. She draws him a small map, unnecessary considering once he examines it he finds that the station is only a couple of blocks away. He rolls his eyes once he’s out of the bakery, screwing the map up into a ball and dumping it in a trash can as he heads for the station.

The man - or rather, boy - manning the front desk of the police station is so engrossed in the game he’s playing on his phone that he doesn’t even hear Tanner enter, and he leans against the counter watching him in amusement for a moment before clearing his throat loudly, making the boy jump. He hastily brushes long blonde hair out of his face and sits up straight, the phone landing loudly on the desk in front of him as he drops it.

“Uh, hello. How can I help you?”

He’s trying to appear professional, Tanner can tell. But the illusion has been shattered the second he’d stepped into the police station and he just smirks at him.

“I need to speak with the detective," he tries. Which detective, he doesn’t know. The boy nods and pushes himself away from the desk on his chair, leaning back to yell out across the station.

“Detective Langford!”

Tanner arches an eyebrow at the kid as he rolls himself back towards his desk and remains sitting up straight, the phone remaining untouched. Apparently this town is small enough for there to only be one detective, how tragic. Still, this detective must be a real hardass judging by the way the boy at the desk is pretending to be a real cop. Fantastic.

The man that steps out from an office in the back and comes to a stop behind the desk is not what Tanner had been expecting. Close to his own 6’3 height but scrawny - he doesn’t look as though he’d be much use in a fight. That might work to Tanner’s advantage before he finds what he came for and can take off, though.

“I’m Detective Langford, how can I help you?” He has a soft voice, and Tanner can’t imagine it sounding in any way authoritative and he wonders if that’s the reason one of the Agency’s units has also been assigned to Wayhaven. If there’s even infrequent supernatural activity in this tiny town he doesn’t imagine that this man would be equipped to handle it.

“I’m not sure, I’m looking for a friend of mine.”

The detective raises an eyebrow, instantly untrusting of the obvious stranger in front of him. “Your friend got a name?”

“I know him as Helk, but he may be going by something different while he’s in town.”

“Is he on the run from something?”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“Me.” Tanner gives a small grin which the detective does not return. Langford studies him carefully for a moment as though trying to figure out how to proceed before shaking his head.

“Even with a name I don’t think I can help you. You’re the first newcomer I’ve seen here in months.”

“You lay eyes on every occasional visitor to your town, do you?”

“Yes. I do.”

Tanner nods and pushes off of the counter, straightening himself up. The boy at the desk looks between the two of them nervously, making him think that perhaps there’s more to this detective than meets the eye. Maybe he needs to tread a little more carefully for the remainder of his time in Wayhaven. Especially if he has an Agency unit to back him up.

“Right, well thanks anyway.” He turns to walk out of the station but Detective Langford calls out to him before he can step through the door.

“What’s your name? I’ll be sure to let any Helks that I come across know who’s looking for them.” He’s testing him, Tanner can tell. He realises that Helk doesn’t sound like a real name - definitely not a name that anyone in a town like this would consider normal anyway - and he’s probably trying to get a more honest answer out of him.

“Tanner Drake," he calls over his shoulder with a grin before stepping out of the street, the smile instantly fading and his eyes narrowing as he scans the street. This is going to be harder than he’d thought.

“Where the hell are you, you little shit?” he murmurs under his breath as he starts walking, realising that he’s going to have to find a place to stay. He didn’t want to stay in this town any longer than necessary, but it’s become obvious that it’s going to take longer than today to track Helk down, especially if he doesn’t have the assistance of the locals.

Morgan shoulders her way through the door of the common room, a lit cigarette already hanging between her lips as she assumes her usual position leaning against one of the side tables in there as they wait for Lucas.

She’s not terribly fond of the man, and she despises these weekly meetings they get dragged into with him. Especially when there’s nothing happening and they usually just consist of Lucas and Nate flirting.

She’s about to lose her patience and leave, forgoing the meeting altogether when finally the detective makes his appearance, and she pulls a face at the way Nate jumps to his feet like a love sick puppy and pulls him into a hug. As though they don’t see each other everyday.

“Can we get started? Some of us have better things to do," she snaps, crushing her cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the table she’s leaning on. Lucas rolls his eyes and reluctantly steps away from Nate. After going through all the usual rigmarole, revealing that there’s nothing interesting to report, as Morgan had expected, she’s pulling another cigarette from her pack and getting ready to head outside when Lucas calls everyone back. She rolls her eyes with a groan and crosses her arms across her chest, her unlit cigarette still hanging from between her lips.

“I met someone strange this morning.”

Not unusual. The town is full of strange as far as Morgan is concerned. It’s unusual that Lucas didn’t know this one though, she’d thought he knew just about everyone.

“Strange in what way?” Adam asks and Lucas shrugs slightly.

“I didn’t recognise him, he came into the station and said he was here looking for someone called Helk. He didn’t mention why.”

“Did you get a name?”

“Tanner Drake.”

Adam tenses instantly and obviously and Morgan frowns over at him. “You know him?”

Adam doesn’t answer, his focus on Lucas.

“Can you find out where he’s staying while he’s here and report back?”

Lucas nods with uncertainty, and Adam turns to face the rest of them, his brow furrowed even deeper than usual.

“Who is he, Adam?” Farah asks from where she’s sprawled on the couch, but Nate answers before Adam can say anything.

“Bounty hunter.”

“We need to find him and figure out what he’s doing here. If he has an assignment in Wayhaven then we should have been notified. The fact that we weren’t suggests that he’s here for personal reasons," Adam cuts in before Nate can say anymore, and Farah nods slowly, casting a worried glance in Morgan’s direction. Morgan just shrugs and pushes herself off of the table when it becomes apparent that the meeting is over, at least until Lucas can find out where Tanner is staying.

Adam storms through the door after Lucas, and Morgan jogs to catch up to him, plucking the cigarette from her mouth and twirling it between her fingers.

“This guy dangerous or something?” she asks, trying to make sense of Adam’s reaction to his name.

“Not unless you’re being hunted by him.”

“So why the unease?” She gestures to him as she asks, and he glances down at her with a heavy expression.

“He is infuriating. I hoped not to have to deal with him again.”

Morgan grins. Now it’s making sense, and she figures that anyone who can get on Adam’s nerves to such an extent has got to be an absolute riot. She finds herself mildly hopeful that she’ll get to meet him and at least have some real fun for once.

Adam stares at the door inside the hotel in obvious disdain, reluctant to knock. Nate stands patiently beside him, trying to keep the amusement from his face as he waits for Adam to do something. He knows that Adam and Tanner hadn’t gotten along the last time they’d crossed paths; Nate had had a front row seat to it. Tanner is antagonising and cocky and easily as arrogant and self assured as Adam and it had led to a number of less than friendly confrontations between the two of them. He knows that Adam is hoping that he’s on a personal mission and he’ll be able to send him packing rather than needing to work with him again.

Finally Adam knocks on the door, a grimace on his face, and then lets out a heavy sigh as he waits for an answer. They hear the chain being unhooked on the other side of the door before it pulls open, Tanner’s eyes widening in surprise before a grin slowly crosses his face.

“Adam!” he exclaims, pulling the door further open and stepping aside to let the two Agents inside.

“Commanding Agent du Mortain.” Adam corrects in nothing short of a grumble as they walk inside and Tanner closes the door behind him.

“Never thought I’d see you again.”

“The feeling was mutual, trust me.” Adam replies, throwing an already exhausted glance in Nate’s direction before clasping his hands behind his back. Tanner’s eyes dart towards Nate and a scowl crosses his face for a brief moment.

When they’d first met, Tanner had taken an instant dislike towards Nate and he still isn’t sure why, but he suspects that maybe they are simply too different.

“Why are you here, Drake?” Adam asks before they can veer too far off topic but Tanner just grins at him.

“I should’ve known it was you four working with the detective. What with how much this one loves humans.” He nods towards Nate though his gaze remains fixed on Adam, who shifts just barely under the attention.

“Why are you here?” Adam repeats his question and Tanner sighs and tuts with a shake of his head.

“I’m sure your detective friend told you that already.”

“You are hunting for someone you call Helk.”

“Right.”

“Who is Helk and why are you looking for them?”

“A goblin, and he stole from me. I want my things back.”

“So it is not an Agency assignment? If you are not on assignment you need to return to the nearest facility. You should-” Adam’s interrupted by his phone ringing, and he lets out an irritated sigh before moving to the other side of the room to answer it.

“What did he steal from you?” Nate asks, trying to fill the awkward silence that falls between them once Adam steps away. Tanner looks over at him, a bored expression on his face as though he’s already tired of interacting with him, and then raises his hands in front of him.

“My rings.”

“Are they important?”

“Does it matter? They’re mine.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to go to if they can be easily replaced.”

“No one steals from me.” Tanner answers simply before looking away, indicating that their conversation is over and Nate knows better than to push it. He seems unassuming, even as tall and well built as he is. Tanner has a charming smile, a cheeky and playful personality for the most part, and it’s hard to imagine him taking anything or anyone seriously.

But Nate and Adam were both witness to what he is actually capable of when they worked with him years ago. He assisted them in finding a supernatural who refused to even meet with the agency to discuss signing any kind of treaty and by the time Adam had finally pulled Tanner off of him the supernatural had needed treatment in the agency’s medical facilities before he was in a position to discuss anything. Even Adam is subtly wary of the nephilim and Nate knows it.

He is not sure what would happen should Tanner ever have an opportunity to meet Morgan and Farah. He suspects that he would get along with Farah fairly well - they have a similar sense of humour and Farah would have no desire to push his buttons and rile him up. Morgan, though. Morgan and Tanner are too similar, and Nate doesn’t imagine that she would be willing to back down just because he warns her too.

He doesn’t suspect that Tanner would be willing to hurt someone technically on his side for no good reason… but he can’t be entirely sure that he’d bother to try and hold himself back either.

Adam appears beyond displeased when he comes back over to them, tucking his phone into the pocket of his coat and letting out a heavy sigh. He turns to Nate, disappointment written all over his face.

“That was Agent Langford. She has a job for him.”

“I’m right here, you know. You could just tell me directly.” Tanner pipes up, back to his usual cocky self now that Adam is there to buffer between him and Nate. Adam turns to him and speaks reluctantly.

“You are to come with us.”

“Back to the Warehouse?” Nate asks incredulously, to which Adam simply gives a short nod.

“To Morgan and Farah?”

“Yes.”

“I get to meet the girls this time, excellent.”

Tanner either doesn’t notice the tension in the air at the idea of him accompanying them to the Warehouse and meeting Farah and Morgan, or he simply doesn’t care about it. Knowing what Nate knows of the Nephilim, it’s probably the latter.

“It would seem so.” Adam answers reluctantly, then nods to the backpack sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Pack. We’ll wait for you outside.”

Tanner grins and grabs his backpack, hoisting it over one shoulder and gestures to the door. “I never unpacked, lead the way.”

Adam groans, not even bothering to hide his unhappiness with the situation before walking out of the hotel, followed closely by Tanner as Nate musters as much positivity as he can to follow behind the both of them.

Well. This will certainly be interesting.

Tags: @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @mmerengue @agentnolastname @freckles-spangledvampire Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you’d like to added to/remove from the tag list.

#twc writing #the wayhaven chronicles #unit bravo #a du mortain #n sewell #f hauville #twc morgan #tanner drake #sadie kennedy #fire meet gasoline #new fic #n*fw #kat writes

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mappinglasirena · 4 years

Text

Sickbay Deep Dive Pt. 2

After we explored the general layout of sickbay in part one of this Deep Dive, it is now time to have a look at all of the stuff filling this part of the ship. While it might not seem all that much at first, there is actually a lot to see and talk about, and as I was working on this post, it got a little out of hand. So, in order not to crash tumblr with too many pictures, I have decided to split this Deep Dive into three parts, instead of two.

Today, I am going to take you on a little tour of all the furniture in La Sirena’s sickbay.

Before we begin, a quick note on Part 1: The first part of this discussion focused on the size and general floor plan of sickbay. Since then, as you might have read, we got a bit of a look behind the scenes which included a set layout presumably created by the production crew. It mostly confirmed my suspicions so far, but I’ll have to adjust some of my assumptions regarding the size of sickbay, at least a little. Once I’ve had time to play around with that a bit, I’ll post an update to part 1.

2) Furnishing Sickbay

One of the things I love about La Sirena is how modular everything on board seems to be. From the transporter control stand that is never in the same place twice, to the number of chairs on the bridge that adapt to the ship’s current occupancy level, to the fluctuation in the various cargo containers all around the two decks, anything that isn’t bolted to the floor will get moved around at some point. This is particularly true for sickbay, where everything but the counter and lamps gets shuffled around near-constantly. Which makes sense, since every piece of furniture except for the table is actually on caster wheels - and I’m not excluding the possibility the table has wheels hidden in its base as well. So, let’s go down the list of furniture and see what we can find out about each piece

The Biobed

Probably of central importance for a functioning sickbay is a good biobed. The one on La Sirena is usually placed in the alcove at the back of the room, but it can be freely moved around as needs require

Note that in episode 5, when Bruce Maddox is being treated, the bed is facing the back of the alcove, whereas in episode 7 and 8, it’s facing towards the front of the room. After the crash on Coppelis, the table is pushed back close to the door, and the biobed is placed in the middle of the round part of the room, directly under the overhead windows.

Like practically everything on La Sirena, the biobed has holographic controls. It includes a scanner (can be seen running over Maddox when he wakes up in sickbay) as well as many life-sustaining functions.

A read-out of the patient’s vital signs and sensor data can be projected onto the wall of the alcove, though we only see this when Maddox is being treated in episode 5.

We only get one shot of the bed without an occupant, namely when Sirena comes back to life after crashing on Coppelius. You can see some of the mechanics that very likely serve to adjust the angle of various parts of the cot, like the footrest, back, and headrest, which is articulated and seems to be adjustable independent of the rest of the back.

In this still, you can also see that the biobed, just like everything else, appears to be on wheels.

Table & Seating

The second most prominent piece of furniture is the round table that’s usually at the centre of the circular lab area.

Not much to say here. It looks to be maybe 1.5m in diameter with a single round foot at the centre. The surface is smooth enough to be reflective and there’s a metal band running around the circumference.

Around the table are four white chairs (on wheels) that have a very ergonomic saddle-like shape.

We don’t actually ever see anyone sitting on them, because people tend to prefer the stools, of which there are four spread around the room (the second pic is from when one of them ends up in the mess hall after the Coppelius crash). They’re on wheels as well and have a bit of lumbar support.

Storage

All of the storage in sickbay seems to consist of chests of drawers on caster wheels. I have no idea if there is an English term for these, please help me out in replies if you have any insight, but I’m talking about what in Germany would be called a Rollcontainer. Basically this thing:

Now if you’re wondering why I have chosen this particular example (which, in case you couldn’t tell from the website design and name, is an IKEA product), let me give you a quick hint:

Somebody has been at a flat-pack furniture store of interstellar renown!

Actually, as has been pointed out by a lot of people, there are IKEA products spread throughout Picard, especially lamps (which have been found on Coppelius, on Freecloud, and even on a Romulan-infested former Borg Cube). As far as I can tell, though, the grey drawers are the only IKEA products in sickbay.

Because everything in sickbay moves around constantly, it’s a little difficult to know for sure how many of these chests there are, but my best guess at the moment is twelve.

As you can tell from the pictures above, the chests were upgraded with light fixtures, added inside the upper rim, and they’re topped with white covers. I think you get a glimpse of the light strips when the top falls off one of the chests in the Coppelius crash:

(Top view of one of the chests. I’m assuming those are rows of LED’s that are turned off in this particular example. NB: The fact that it doesn’t look rectangular is because this image is cropped from the very edge of a frame with a ton of lens distortion. You can tell it’s straight in the original image)

There are blue and black mats on some of the chests, as you can see in these two images:

There are two other types of chests of drawers that, as far as I can tell, were sourced somewhere other than IKEA. They’re both white; one of them is very similar to the grey ones except with a rail around it...

... and the other one has two drawers on an articulated foot (on wheels).

There are two of each of these. We only get a very blurry glimpses of them all together, but the count after the Coppelius crash confirms that it’s two each.

Counter Furnishings

There are two more bits of set design that I would class as furniture, rather than general... stuff, so I’m quickly going to list them here.

There are very small glass shelves over the counter, fastened to the diagonal support beams at the front and back of the room.

And then there are four metal desk lamps on each side of the counter, to make absolutely sure every inch of the workbench can be lit properly. They each have a handle at the front of the cylindrical heads, so they are easier to move

(It’s a little difficult to see in this picture, but the top of the lamp at the very left of the frame, just above the shelves, has the handle prominently visible, and you can also see it on the second lamp from the right.)

And that concludes the furniture section of this Deep Dive.

Next time on “very infrequent but very long posts about our favourite Kaplan F17 Speed Freighter with you host, Lili”: A collection of mostly mysterious stuff scattered across every surface of sickbay, and an exploration of continuity errors, my own personal fan theories, and other miscellanea.

#star trek picard #la sirena #emil (emh)#deep dive #lower deck #sickbay #ikea #long post #i'm gonna have to go through these one day and redo the tagging #but for now i'm just gonna revel in the fact i get to post this #and i managed to procrastinate talking about all of the STUFF which is the main reason this has taken so long #too much stuff #(but who are we kidding - any day where i get to stare at sickbay pictures is a good day)

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aerynwrites · 4 years

Text

Liberation

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Companion

Author’s Note: Okay! A lot of things to discuss in this note so pay attention!

First...Yay! The new series is officially here! I am so excited to see what you guys think, and I am even more excited to see where this series goes. This series will follow the TV show somewhat but will also, obviously, be a bit different. This part takes place before and during episode one.

secondly, I took a glance at my follower count earlier today and you guys...I hit and surpassed 1,000 followers!! I am BEYOND grateful for each end every one of you guys. You encourage me to continue to do what i enjoy doing and am passionate about! I am so so so appreciative of all your kind messages over the course of this blog and these series. You guys ROCK! I may try and do like a little special thing for 1,000 followers, because this is a huge achievement for me. Thank you all again, and as always i love to hear what you all think. Enjoy it!

Word Count: 3.1k (whoops)

Warnings: Cursing, Drinking.

Chapters: Prologue, One (here), Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

////

You immediately spotted the client as you and the Mandalorian entered the large room, you also took note of the four guards stationed several feet away. The client, a dark-skinned man with silk robes and large rings adorning every finger, sat up straighter in his chair taking in the sight before him. He took note of the asset still held firmly by your hand before looking you up and down and letting out a loud laugh.

“Well it looks like you had a good time finding my old friend Bora, here” he said gesturing from your filthy form to the man standing next to you.

You narrowed your eyes, a scowl settling on your face, “Well he’s here, so where are my credits?” you spit.

The man just lets out another laugh clearly amused at your behavior but brings out a small bag of credits dumping them on the table. Once you quickly made sure the correct amount was present you roughly shoved the bounty into the arms of a nearby guard. You quickly swiped the credits from the counter and put them back in the bag, before turning on your heel and walking to the door. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw the Mandalorian flinch and reach for his blaster as you started to leave, apparently worried you would try to run with the money.

“Don’t worry,” you assure as he follows behind you and out of the building, “You’ll get your credits. I just wanted to get out of there.”

“Did you even check to make sure he paid the promise amount?” the Mandalorian asked snidely.

You turn to him and send him a harsh glare, “Yes I checked.” You bite, “I’m not as stupid as you seem to think I am.”

He turns to you fully now and tilts his head down slightly before returning to look at you, “Your appearance would say otherwise,” He deadpanned.

You felt the blood rush to your face, angry at his dismissive tone and snarky comments. you grip the bag of credits tighter in your hand, “Fuck you! I don’t even have to give these credits if I don’t want too, and right now you are testing my generosity,” You bite.

You see the man subtly move his hand to hover over his blaster, “I’m getting the credits we agreed upon,” he paused looking at you in silence for a moment, “one way or another.”

You both stood there facing one another in a silent face off. Your chest still heaving in frustration, and you considered your options. Run and get shot. Fight back and get shot. Give him what you promised and hopefully not get shot. The man in front of you seemed to be able to read your thoughts because he tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Well,” the low modulated voice, “What’s it going to be?”

You contemplated running again before letting out an indignant huff and begrudgingly dug out your share, and maybe a tad bit more, of credits from the bag before tossing his share to him. He swiftly catches it before dumping its contents into his other hand. You watch as he counts them before looking back to you and clearing his throat expectantly.

You roll your eyes, “you can’t blame me for trying,” you pout before flipping him the extra one hundred credits you swiped.

He caught that one just as easily as the rest before returning them to the bag and pocketing it, giving you a satisfied nod. You clutch your share in your hand before looking over your shoulder at the bustling market.

“I’ll go get my supplies and then meet you at the shipyard in…” you trailed off.

“at sunset,” he fills in before turning to go pay the mechanic, “And clean up before then. I don’t want you tracking that stuff in my ship,” he tosses over his shoulder.

“whatever,” you silently flip him the bird behind his back, smiling when he doesn’t notice, “I’ll see you later.”

He doesn’t say anything as you both part ways.

////

You sit in the local cantina, loud music filling the air as you slowly nurse a dark amber drink you didn’t bother to remember the name of. You had been alternating between sipping the drink and pressing the cool glass to the area just above your right brow, a nasty bruise already starting to form from the blow a rival bounty hunter gave you. You had already gotten the supplies you needed, consisting of some tools and parts to maintenance your blaster as well as enough ration portions to last several weeks - you even had some credits left over. You had also done as the Mandalorian asked and found a place to clean up. Your clothes were a lost cause, so you opted into buying a new set before cleaning up, washing your armor, and then heading to the cantina you now sat into waste time until sunset. The sudden halt of the music and hushing of the crowd brought you back to the present. You cast a glance to the spot where everyone else was looking and saw none other than your armored escort making his way through the parting crowd to where you sat. You didn’t say anything as he came to stand next to you, looking down at you as you took a sip of the drink in your hand, grimacing slightly at the burning sensation.

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

You set your glass down on the countertop harder than you meant to and glared up at the man above you, “Yes, I’m old enough to have a fucking drink. Why do you have to be so goddamn condescending all the time?” you frown as you return the glass to your face, desperate for some relief from the throbbing in your head.

“It’s time to go,” he states plainly, offering no explanation for his behavior.

“Can I not finish my drink?” you ask sarcastically.

“Do you want me to take you somewhere or not?”

You huff and roll you eyes before downing the rest of your drink and stand up pulling a backpack over your shoulder as you gesture towards the door and bow mockingly.

“Lead the way O’ Mighty Mandalore,” a mocking smile on your face.

He just lets out a scoff as he brushes past you and out the door of the cantina with you following closely behind.

You both walked in silence back to the shipyard, the only sound being your footsteps on the ground and the quiet conversations of citizens passing by you. You followed a few steps behind the armored man not wanting to intrude on his personal space. He doesn’t seem to be the type that’s too fond of people. As you finally round the corner to the shipyard, you let out a low whistle as you see the Mandalorian make a beeline towards a large, sleek Razor Crest.

“Nice ride,” you say as you walk up to the ship and run your hand over the hull, “No wonder it cost so much to fix.”

The owner of the ship turns to face you after paying the mechanic, “It’s expensive to fix because it’s old,” he counters.

You drop your hand from said ship and look at him with a deadpan expression, “you could learn to take a compliment you know.”

He doesn’t respond, he just presses a button on his arm guard, and you watch as the ramp to the ship opens with a hiss and bursts of steam. The Mandalorian swiftly enters the ship and you follow, not wanting to get left behind. You take in your surrounds as the ramp closes behind you. It’s not a large space but enough to move around. There’s a locked compartment that you deduce holds weapons or valuables and then a row of carbonite containers, which you note are filled with frozen people. You shudder slightly as you think about the poor souls who had been trapped in there. While you’re new to the whole bounty hunter gig, you aren’t oblivious to the brutal tactics the more experienced hunters use to ensure they get paid. You frown slightly, wondering if you made the right choice in profession. You couldn’t see yourself doing that to another being, knowing that they feel the same things as you do.

“Are you coming?”

The increasingly familiar baritone voice brought you from your thoughts and you turned to see him halfway up a ladder leading to the top portion of the ship. You nod quickly and follow him up and into the cockpit of the ship. As he heads to the captains chair and starts up the engines you glance around the space and take it all in. you think the average person would be overwhelmed by the amount of buttons and switches, but your past ventures had made you very knowledgeable about ships and mechanics. While you couldn’t fly the ship well you could most likely fix anything that came up.

In your analysis of the ship you weren’t prepared for the sudden jolt as the Mandalorian lifted the shift from the ground. You stumbled slightly and grabbed onto the back of his chair to steady yourself before falling ungracefully into the chair to the right of the pilots seat. You grunt as you land in the chair and awkwardly pull your backpack out from behind you and toss it on the ground. The ship finally steadies as you leave the planets atmosphere and you take a moment to get more comfortable in your seat, looking to observe the man in frnt of you. You watch in silence as he locates a planet several systems away and sets the ship into hyper drive. He takes his hands from the control stick and fiddles with a few other switches before sitting back in his seat slightly, not completely relaxed but somewhat relaxed compared to his usual guarded stance. You take your gaze from the mysterious man and instead turn to look at the stars buzzing by in white and silver streaks.

“where are we going?” you ask quietly.

“Nevarro.”

You nod, he really is a man of very few words.

You both sit in silence for a while longer. You just staring out the window and occasionally watching The Mandalorian as he messes about with the control panel. You are almost startled when he speaks up.

“How old are you anyway? You seem a little young to be doing…this” he gestures vaguely around him, clearly referring to bounty hunting.

You shift in your seat to face him, “I’m nineteen...So old enough I suppose.”

He just hums quietly before flipping a few more switches.

“Why’d you pick Nevarro?” you ask, “It seems oddly specific.”

“That’s where I base out of,” he offers, not mentioning his clan, “And that’s where the main guild base is located.”

A deep scowl settles itself on your face at the mention of the guild, fuck those guys.

The man seems to notice your change in demeanor, “Got something against the guild?”

You shrug your shoulders, “I just tried to get in with them once but the guy that runs it…beef jerky or something – “

“Greef Karga?” the man corrects.

You snap your fingers, “Yeah him. He took one look at me and said ‘you are in the wrong place kid, we don’t usually take people so... green’,” you mock Greef’s voice as you recount his words, before slumping back in your seat, “Can you believe? He didn’t even give me a chance.” You say bitterly.

“He has a point,” he defends.

You bristle at his words and open your mouth to bite back but he beats you to it.

“You are inexperienced. And in this life inexperience will get you and those around you killed. He was right to turn you away.” He states finally.

You feel yourself deflate at his words. You knew he was right, logically it makes sense, but it still hurt to hear them, especially from someone so renowned. It hurt to know that you would probably never make it as a bounty hunter, not on your own anyways. You didn’t respond, too upset to come up with a snarky comment, something that the masked man took note of. He glanced discreetly at your form beside him and immediately noticed your forlorn disposition. He felt something stir inside him, and before he could stop himself, he spoke.

“I can help you. show you some pointers if you’d like,” he sees you immediately perk up at his words.

“You’d really do that?” but you narrowed your eyes slightly, “What’s the catch?” you asked skeptically.

“Any bounties we catch are split eighty-twenty.” He states firmly.

That actually wasn’t a terrible deal, especially since you would have transport while you were with him, plus the fact that a real life Mandalore would be teaching you pointers on how to be a bounty hunter. All you want to do is hug the man in front of you, but you restrain your self and instead settle for a large grin and excited nod, like a child that just found out they could get candy.

“That sounds great.” You finally get out, “Thank you.”

“Good, because we’re here,” the ship drops out of hyper drive as he speaks, and the planet comes into view.

Your leg bounces impatiently against the chair as you wait for the Mandalorian to land the ship and shut it down.

“okay let’s go,” before the words have even fully left his mouth you are out of your seat, blaster holstered at your side and dagger tucked securely in your belt, looking excitedly at the man before you.

“You need to calm down,” he states, “this whole,” he gestures to you, “excited kid persona doesn’t really fit with this crowd.”

You immediately understand and put on a serious face, straightening your posture, “okay, Is this better?”

You hear the man sigh before brushing past you and out of the ship, you take that as a yes. So you follow, beside him this time, as you both walk towards the cantina where most of the guild member spend their spare time and spare credits. As you enter the bustling building, it falls eerily quiet, just as the one on the last planet did.

So, this must be a regular thing for him, you think to yourself.

You follow the leader until you reach a table, occupied only by Greef Karga.

“Ah Mando,” Greef greets, watching as the Mandalorian sets four tracking fobs on the table, “That took longer than usual,” he comments.

“I ran into some problems,” the Mandalorian explains.

“I see,” finally Greef’s eyes fall to your figure standing behind the armored man, “and I assume it had something to do with this one. What did I tell you kid, you’ll cause nothing but problems.” He accused, directing the last bit at you.

you bared your teeth in a sneer and took a step forward, ready to slap that smirk right off his face, but Mando put his hand out to stop you.

“She’s with me.”

Greef tilts his head curiously, “I didn’t take you as the babysitting type Mando.”

“Not babysitting. She’s my partner.” Mando defends, “Now, where’s my payment?”

Greef casts one last curious glance at you before he fishes in his pocket for the credits. You and Mando take a seat across from him as he sets down three different colored pieces of metal, the imperial insignia stamped on the front.

Mando looks at Greef, “Those are imperial credits.”

“They still spend,” the guild leader argues.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard but the empires gone,” you pipe up.

Greef glares at you before sitting back, “It’s all I’ve got.”

You look between the two men and become concerned when Mando reaches for the fobs. What was he doing?

But Greef grabs his hand before he can leave with them, “Save the theatrics, fine I’ll…” he digs around in his pocket again and produces 3 white spherical items and sets them on the table, “I can do Calamari Flan…but I can only pay half.”

Mando seems to consider the offer before setting the fobs down and taking the flan from the table, “Fine. What pucks do you have?” he asks handing the flan to you.

You quickly tuck it into the small pouch attached to your belt as Greef starts pulling pucks from his bag.

“I have a bail jumper, a bail jumper, another bail jumper, a wanted smuggler – “

“I’ll take them all,” Mando interjects and your eyes widen in surprise. That was a lot of people to hunt down.

“No. hold on." Greef stops Mando from taking the pucks, “There are other members of the Guild, and this is all I have.”

“Why so slow?” Mando asks.

“Not slow, very busy actually.” Greef explains.

“Then what’s the problem?” you ask, confused at what was happening.

You feel Mando nudge you in the side harshly as Greef sends you another glare, he really doesn’t like you for some reason.

“They don’t want to pay guild rates, they don’t mind if things get sloppy.”

Mando looks a Greef for a moment, considering his options, “What’s your highest Bounty?”

“Not much…Five thousand?”

“That won’t even cover fuel these days,” Mando says, aggravation clear in his voice.

Greef hums thoughtfully then clicks his tongue, “Well there is one job,” he admits, seemingly hesitant.

“Where’s the puck?” you ask, trying to sound like you know what’s going on.

“No puck,” Greef tells you both, “Face to Face. Direct commission. Deep pockets.”

“Underworld?” Mando questions.

“All I know is no chain code,” he pulls a small card from his pocket, “do you want the chit or not?”

Mando pauses, and glances from you then back to the card briefly before taking the card from Greef and standing abruptly. You look from Greef to the retreating Mandalorian then back to Greef before scrambling to your feet to follow your partner.

But before you leave you turn to man still sitting at the table, “Am I still to green for you Greef?” you ask mockingly before turning to leave without waiting for a response.

You rush out of the cantina and collide into something cold and hard, and stumble back slightly, rubbing at the spot on your head.

“Watch where you’re going,” a familiar voice warns.

You smile sheepishly up at Mando and take a few steps back, looking up at him, “What was with all the cloak and dagger for that thing?” you point to the card in his hand, “It seems like it’s a big deal for a bounty to not have a puck,” you observe.

“It is,” he confirms, “It’s unusual to meet with a client face to face, at least through the guild.”

You nod in understanding, “So…are we going to do it?”

Mando pauses for a moment, this is very unusual, and if someone is trying this hard to keep this bounty under wraps, it means it’s more dangerous. You had obviously never dealt with anything of this caliber, you could be a liability. But he had seen you fight off those bounty hunters, so you weren’t a complete liability. He looks at you one more time before nodding his head and pocketing the card.

“Let’s go.”

////

Tags: @tryn25 @igotmadskills @dizzydazed @mouseofmickey @therobinathome @lirinchi @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8

(Let me know if you would like to be tagged!)

#the mandalorian x reader #dyn jarren x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #dyn jarren #star wars

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ehstarwar · 4 years

Text

flesh stays no farther reason (1/6)

Great, she thinks, another horny creep trying to entice young women to hop into bed with them for roughly 30 seconds.

She reads the post anyways.

Five times Ben looks for Rey and the one time she finds him.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5K

Read on AO3

Notes:

my brain at 2a.m., assuring me that it'll be a one-shot: for the lady, perhaps a salad?

me, 5,000+ words in and only on their first meeting: [chuckling] perhaps not

what's to come is still unsure

She sees it on Reddit.

She doesn’t normally scroll through the website (certainly not subreddits like this) but she’s bored and can only take the same Buzzfeed quizzes so many times.

She’s not sure what led her to this page, how the rabbit hole of the internet made her search r/mseekingfcorusant but here she was, scrolling through the disjointed thoughts of horny guys in her area.

Posted by u/droidwrangerl88

need hot girl to bang. serious inquiries only.

Posted by u/mycumtastelikesarlacc

Any girls in the Coruscant area looking to hook up this evening? 38M seeking mid-20sF. Will split hotel bill.

Posted by u/hotbountyhunter3483

any females interested in shredded guy for an evening? willing to meet for drinks b4 hand, and will pay for ur drinks if ur hot. (943) 349-9684 ;)

Rey finds it consistently astonishing how gross and vulgar men can be when hidden behind a screen. But she is scrolling on this page out of her own free will, so it does seem a little ‘pot-calling-the-kettle-black-ish.’ Just as her finger goes to press back to the home-screen, a tiny blue bubble appears at the top of the page, indicating that there has been a new post made. Great, she thinks, another horny creep trying to entice young women to hop into bed with them for roughly 30 seconds.

She reads the post anyways.

Posted by u/KyL0_R3N

31M seeking similarly aged F for the evening of 05/17. I have an important meeting on the 18th and sex the night before proves to a good luck charm for me. Nothing too crazy or obscene, fairly vanilla to start off with, but willing to go further based on her desires.

Something in Rey clenches.

It’s by far the most eloquently phrased way of asking for sex that she’s seen thus far. He seems straightforward, which is refreshing, but she knows that the best of psychopaths are good at hiding their true intention.

She clicks to his profile.

He seems interested in pretty common threads. Cooking tips, best laundromats in Coruscant, Galaxy Battles discourse; all innocuous and nothing to indicate he would chop up whoever responds to his post. Maybe that’s why she sends him a message.

From u/R3yoflight

why not just download tinder?

everyone on tinder is looking for sex too.

She bites her lip as she presses send. It’s not the best conversation starter, she’s aware, but their semi-introduction was from him posting about wanting to have sex to preform well in a meeting. Formalities can be forgone, in this particular situation. It’s not like she’s trying to impress him either; she didn’t message him to accept is offer, just merely because she’s curious.

There’s a pang of nervousness when she hears the notification sound out that he’s responded.

From u/KyL0_R3N

There’s too much preamble on dating apps.

Also, I’m looking to have sex, not to date.

It seemed more advantageous

to be straightforward.

From u/R3yoflight

hmmmm

i guess that makes sense

(also advantageous is worth 17 points in

scrabble, so kudos)

have you gotten many interested respondents?

From u/KyL0_R3N

You’re the first.

From u/R3yoflight

who says i’m interested???

From u/KyL0_R3N

Well, you are the one who messaged me?

Also, my post has been up for only a few minutes,

so you’re the first respondent in any capacity.

From u/R3yoflight

oooohhh i feel special ☺️✨

From u/KyL0_R3N

You’ve yet to tell me if you’re interested.

Is she?

Is she really considering letting Mr. KyL0_R3N fuck her after meeting him through a publicly placed internet post and knowing next to nothing about him?

From u/R3yoflight

maybe??

idk v much abt u yet

how do i know ur not a serial killer

or that u actually are who u say u are

which u haven’t yet

said who u are, that is

From u/KyL0_R3N

I’m 31M. I work in Coruscant at a tech company.

I’m 6’3, 190lbs. I’m not a killer in any capacity.

You haven’t told me anything about yourself,

which hardly seems fair.

From u/R3yoflight

24F, 5’6, i’m not telling u my weight

i work at an auto shop downtown so i can

kick ur ass if ur lying abt not being a killer

From u/KyL0_R3N

In order to kick my ass, we’d have to meet.

So, are you interested or not?

From u/R3yoflight

i shouldn’t be

From u/KyL0_R3N

I have the distinct feeling that you are.

Am I right?

From u/R3yoflight

...

yeah

He tells her his name is Kylo Ren, which she thinks sounds stupid and made up, but doesn’t press him. They hammer out some more details, agreeing to meet at the bar of a swanky hotel downtown first, and if all goes well, he’ll have a room reserved for them.

When she tells him that she can’t afford to pay any of the room, he dismisses her flippantly with a quick ‘I’ll take care of it’ that makes her chest feel tight.

They don’t talk much after that, only a message from her a few days before hand, making sure the plan was still on, and an affirmative from his side. But a few hours before they’re supposed to meet up, Rey gets a notification from him. It distracts her from the task at hand (precision shaving of her legs and… other parts), causing a knick on the back of her calf.

From u/KyL0_R3N

While I don’t think that we’ll be doing

anything that would require

a safe word, I’d like to have one in case.

From u/R3yoflight

i’ve never had a safe word.

what’s a good one?

From u/KyL0_R3N

It doesn’t have to be anything special.

We can stick to a traditional scale.

Green means you’re good.

Yellow means slow down.

Red means to stop entirely.

Does that work?

From u/R3yoflight

yeah thats good

why don’t you think that we won’t be doing

anything to justify a safe word?

you planning to go easy on me 😈

From u/KyL0_R3N

That depends, sweetheart.

How far are you willing to go?

Rey thinks for a moment. She should have some hard lines set, especially since he’s a total stranger. In fact, she shouldn’t be fucking a stranger at all. But she was in this far, so she may as well go all in.

From u/R3yoflight

i’m not super into choking but a lil breath play

is okay

no extreme bondage or degradation

maybe at some point but just… not now

anything in my ass will require a lot of work

before hand bc not much has been in there.

any hard no’s 4 u?

i’m on birth control so u can come inside me

if you want

From u/KyL0_R3N

I think we should stick to no

bondage/degradation/breath play for now

I’m not super into those anyways.

I’ll keep that in mind about your ass.

Maybe nothing in my ass. For now.

That about covers my no’s.

What are some of you hard yes’s?

From u/R3yoflight

i like being taken control of, dominated, i guess

kissing is big for me but i get it if u don’t like it

also major daddy kink but that can be

controlled if its not ur thing

what do u like

From u/KyL0_R3N

Very much yes to that Daddy kink and kissing.

I lean towards dom anyway, so that should work out.

I like hickeys. Giving and receiving.

I also have pretty good stamina, just a warning.

From u/R3yoflight

i like a man with good stamina ;)

u gonna wear me out tonight? 😈

From u/KyL0_R3N

Yes. Yes I am.

She gets there late. Unlike every other time she runs late for something, this time is purposeful. If he gets angry with her, she’ll know to leave. And she’s counting on that. Him giving her a reason to leave. She needs it so she doesn’t do something stupider than what she’s already doing now.

But when she arrives and see’s the absolute mammoth of a man, with long-is black hair and moles and big ears, Rey just knows she’s in for it.

He stands when he sees her. Realistically she knew that 6’3 was tall, but it’s still a bit shocking to her. One of his gargantuan hands is holding a beer, the other resting on the back of the chair. She spends a second too long admiring his form, earning a knowing-but-slight smirk from him.

“You’re Kylo.” It’s an unnecessary statement, because who else could he be, but one that is said all the same.

“And you’re Rey.”

His fucking voice. It’s too beautiful to be addressing her, she’s sure of it.

“Work ran over, that’s why I’m late.” She wasn’t going to give him an excuse, but the words fall out of her mouth.

“I’m familiar with that myself. It’s no trouble, really.” He holds the chair out for her, and she gracefully takes a seat. A server comes around and takes her drink order of a club soda before scurrying off.

“Nothing to relax the nerves?” He question, taking a sip of his drink.

“I prefer to have a clear head for…” She trails off. What does this qualify as? A hook-up? A booty-call? A job interview?

“Good girl.”

Her breath stops for a moment before she remembers its necessary to survive.

“You said you work for a tech company downtown; is it close?” She asks, hoping she sounds passive.

“Not far. I need to be close for tomorrow.” He never looks away from her; it makes her sweat.

The server comes back with her drink, and Rey takes a giant gulp, just for something to preoccupy her mouth.

“You said you work for an auto shop downtown. What do you do there?” He asks, eying her hands curiously. Rey worries that he’ll realize she wasn’t actually at work if her hands aren’t greasy, so she hides them under the table.

“I’m a mechanic,” She tells him, sitting up straighter.

“You’re…” He begins, but she cuts him off.

“A woman mechanic, yes. It’s not entirely uncommon.”

“I was going to say young.” She bites her lip. His voice doesn’t sound like its chastising her, but she feels bad all the same.

“Most men are uncomfortable with the fact that I know more about cars than them.” Rey doesn’t know why she continues to challenge him, but his reactions always surprise her.

It’s… nice.

“Do I seem like I’m uncomfortable by that?”

She regards him. “No, but you did proposition anyone with computer access, so I think your threshold for uncomfortable must be very high.”

He doesn’t laugh, per se, but the corners of his mouth lift and his cheeks become tight. She smiles at the sight.

“Seems that we’re both very bold. A female mechanic and an online propositioner. We make for quite a pair.”

“Hopefully that means the sex will be good.”

Kylo Ren does smile at that.

His hand is on the small of her back when they get in the elevator and Rey is actively trying to ignore the fluttering in her gut, which is why the words blurt out of her.

“My roommate knows where we are!” It’s a loud noise in an otherwise quiet area, but Kylo doesn’t seem startled by it. He just looks down at her. “I have to be back at the apartment, in person, by noon tomorrow or she’s calling the cops.” Rey is quieter now but her voice still shakes.

“My meeting is at 10, so you’ll have plenty of time to get back to your place. I can have my driver drop you off there, if you like,” He says.

“Thats… not why I’m telling you. But that you. I mean, my roommate will know if something bad happens to me. So it would be wise of you to not kill me.” Rey gulps.

Kylo’s hand comes to her face and brushes a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Rey.” His voice is soft. “I’m not going to kill you, or hit you, or do anything you don’t want me to do.” She’s facing him now. “If you feel uncomfortable, I wouldn’t be mad. You can leave whenever you want.”

“But what do you want? You’ve asked me what I’ve wanted in every interaction we’ve had, but all I know is that you want to fuck somebody so that you’re not nervous or whatever tomorrow. Do you even want me? Or was I just the first person who responded to you post? It goes both ways, ya know. You need to tell me what you want, too.”

His hand brushes the side of her jaw, his eyes trail down her face, no doubt seeing the nervous expression she wears.

“I want you, Rey.”

His lips are on hers the moment the door is shut. His hand cradles the back of her head as he shoves his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. His other hand grips her hip and will definitely leave a bruise. She loves it.

But his warm, wet mouth on hers with his plush, pink lips makes any coherent thought leave her head. She moans into his mouth, hands trying desperately to pop open the buttons of his shirt. She makes a sound of frustration when the last stubborn button won’t come undone, and his hands are there in an instant, ripping the thing straight off. She slides her hands along his toned chest as his tongue invades her mouth. When her hands venture further south, they find the more than impressive bulge straining against his slacks.

“I should’ve… asked you earlier…” He says into her mouth as he sucks off the remaining shirt and suit jacket, “if you… like… dirty talk.” Rey keens against him, forcing his mouth to go to her neck as she breathes out a chant of ‘yes, yes, yes.’

Kylo makes a noise of approval before hoisting her into his arms. Rey’s legs instinctively wrap around his hips as he walks them towards the bed.

“Good, because it would be a shame not to be able to tell you that I can’t wait to taste your cunt.”

Rey has died.

She has died and gone to whatever afterlife will have her.

She never wants to leave it.

“You… don’t… you don’t have to…” She manages to say between kisses. Kylo pulls back from her then, eyes dark, hair a mess, lip red and bitten.

“I want to. Will you let me?” Rey nods so fast she’s worried her neck will be sore. His hands ruck up her cotton dress, until he decides that the offending material will need to be off all together. She’s left in her black bralette and underwear and Kylo stares down at her.

“My tit’s aren’t that big. I’m sorry if you were looking forward to-”

“They’re perfect,” He cuts her off by kissing down her chest, mouthing her nipples through the dark fabric. The heat of his mouth combined with the coolness of the room make her nipples stand at attention, pebbling at the fabric.

Kylo depends further, and puts his entire face against her still-clothed pussy, inhaling and licking her through the fabric. Rey is a whiny mess against the sheets, hair in every direction, full body blush. She hopes he thinks she’s hot because, god, she’s never sen anyone like him.

Kylo takes of her panties and immodestly begins lapping at her cunt, no warning or hesitation, making Rey give something of a moan and a yelp. Her hand goes to his hair, feeling the luscious locks between her fingers. His hands go to her ass, lifting her up slightly so he gets a better angle.

“You’re… too good… at this…” She manages between breaths. Rey would bet anything he’s smirking against her.

Kylo uses his nose to rub at her clit before alternating between kitten licks and sucking on it. It takes no time at all for Rey to come. So quickly, in fact, that she would be embarrassed if she could move. Her whole body is on fire as he licks her through it, occasionally using a hand to brush at her nipples. The tears streaming out of her eyes and drool gathering at the corner of her mouth must make her look ghastly, but Kylo doesn’t seem to mind.

When he finally sits back, still between her legs, she can make out the bulge from earlier, now even more prominent.

He’s looking down at her, at the mess he’s made of her, and against every instinct, she lets him.

“I don’t normally come that fast,” she tells him. Her voice is quiet even now, and she knows it’ll be strained tomorrow. Good, something to remember him by.

“It won’t take me that long to come, either,” he admits, having the kindness to look sheepish as he says it.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Kylo represses a smile.

He gets off the bed, shucking his pants, underwear, and socks off in one felt swoop, leaving him gorgeously bare before her. If she though the bulge was impressive, the real thing is even better. His cock is red and pointed upwards as he stands across from her. His hand goes to pump himself a few times, smearing the precome along his length. Rey can’t help but reach out, whole body going with her as she opens her mouth to bring Kylo towards her. His hand stops her, gently, and she looks up at him in confusion.

“I want to suck you off,” She tells him, brows still furrowed.

“Later,” he tells her.

Kylo pulls her back up the bed with him, so that he hovers over her as he kisses her again. She still taste herself on him, but can’t find the heart to care. Her hands go to wrap around him, feeling the thickness for herself. Huge is an understatement. But Rey’s always been ambitious.

She pumps him a little, feeling him nearly whimper in her mouth.

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” he murmurs.

“Yes… yes please…”

Rey feels his hand come over hers as Kylo slots himself between her legs and aligns his cock to her core. He slides in, slowly, stretching her the whole way. She pants against his skin, digs her nails into his shoulder.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” His voice sounds strained, like he’s holding back from her.

“It’s good, daddy… so good…” she pants.

He whines some curses against her skin as he finishes seating himself inside of her.

“… so good, sweetheart. Takin’ me so well… taking your daddy so well,” He mumbles, pressing kisses to any part of her skin. Rey can already feel the beginning of another orgasm itch inside of her, and for the first time in a while, she has no doubt that Kylo will get her there.

“Daddy… you can move… please,” She’s breathless as she asks him. He groans above her and rest his forehead against hers.

His hips being to move, still slow, but making her breath hitch ever shallow thrust.

“Tight… so tight for me…” He mumbles. Rey takes a minute to look at him, really look at him. He’s flushed, skin damp, but he’s still so very handsome. Moles dot his face and she can’t resist using a hand to trace them. His hair tickles her nose, so she pushes it back behind his ears, which are a bit too big for his head but she adores them.

Kylo lets Rey take him in, but gets her attention back to the moment with a quick snap of his hips.

“Can you come again?” He asks, and Rey nods. His mouth depends on her neck, sucking hickeys to every patch of skin it finds, as he pushes into her. She can feel the bump of his cock every time he bottoms out, a sensation she’s never felt before, and it makes her clench him every time. His hand skates down between them to get to her clit, and he quickly begins rubbing her there.

“Gonna let me fill you with my come? Gonna be a good girl and hold it all in? Can you do that for me baby? Huh?” His words send shivers down her spine, aiding in his pursuit to get her to come again. She mumbles incoherent words of approval, trying to tel him “yes, yes! I’ll be your good girl!” but speech fails her at the moment.

But Rey knows Kylo understands what she’s trying to say.

She feels his rhythm falter and his hand speeds against her clit. She tightens her legs around his hips, trying to wordlessly tell him she’s close too.

“Please, baby, please come for me…” His voice is desperate and strained and makes her shudder. Her hips find purchase against the base of his cock, in combination with the movement of his fingers, and she’s thrust into the abyss again.

Kylo holds her against him as she comes, whole body vibrating, and he follows after her. He grunts against a pillow as he comes, and Rey is distantly aware that he’s actually biting the poor thing. His come is hot within her, and she feels him pulse as he keeps slamming his hips to hers. The slapping of skin slows as she feels his body let go of the tension, and Rey is boneless beneath him.

He lays on her, still half-hard inside of her, as they come down from their mutual high. They are both breathing so heavily that speaking is out of the question, at least for a while. Kylo pulls out of her, and a mad rush of fluid starts to leak out of her. She clenches, remembering his words from earlier.

Part of her expects a coldness afterwards; after all, that’s what most sex has been for her. Once he’s come, he leaves. It’s the oldest story in the book. And for all Kylo’s talk of ‘stamina’, there’s still a part of her that expects it’s just a façade.

But he doest leave her, cold and debauched, to get redressed and make a hasty exit. Instead, he plants a kiss to the side of her jaw and rubs her torso sweetly before helping her sit up. She’s weak, and he knows it.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” He says when she slouch against him. She mumbles something unintelligible into his skin. Instead of getting rough with her, Kylo just soothes her. “Women are 38% more likely to get a UTI if they don’t pee after sex. That’s not a parting gift I’d like to give you,” he elaborates.

Rey sighs, but lets Kylo get her to the bathroom.

They sleep in spurts.

For a few hours after their first time, before Kylo wakes her with the incessant press of his hard cock into her abdomen. (He takes her even more slowly that time, sleepy and still blissed out. He comes before she does, but he uses his fingers to get her there, still.)

A few hours after that, Rey makes good on her promise to get her mouth on him, waking him with her mouth already working him. (His come tastes bitter and tangy, but she swallows it because it’s his.) She sits on his face afterwards, letting his tongue get her off again.

The next time she wakes, Kylo is kissing her chest, licking at her now oversensitive nipples. There’s a faint light peaking through the windows and Rey knows their time is coming to an end. She runs a hand through his hair to indicate she’s awake now, but he keeps on in his pursuit. Only when her chest spit-covered and shiny does Kylo seem satisfied with his work, and lifts his head to look at Rey.

“Good Morning,” She mumbles, voice strained as expected, and still groggy from sleep. He hums his response, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips.

Rey glances at the clock, noting its just past 7, when they both sit up in bed. Kylo goes to say something, but is cut off by the grumbling of Rey’s stomach. Her cheeks heat as his voice falls silent.

“Sorry… I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning,” she admits. Kylo’s brow furrows for a moment, but the dark expression passes fleetingly.

“Let’s rectify that first, shall we?”

The breakfast menu for room service is extensive, and Kylo orders one of everyone instead of actually looking it over. Rey can only half-heartedly try to tell him it was too much, when her eyes catch a glimpse of the fluffiest looking waffles she’s ever seen. Kylo had only kissed her head and ordered before walking into the shower.

It arrives in record time, a result, she’s sure, of the high-class hotel he got for them. The room, which she’d been too preoccupied to notice last night, is opulent. A bit gaudy for her taste (were gold curtains really necessary), but Rey was in no position to complain. She hesitated to put on actual clothes, instead opting for the plush robe that hung in the wardrobe.

Rey is half into the whole meal when Kylo emerges from the bathroom, towel hung low on his hips and hair still damp. Rey bites her lip so hard she draws blood. He sits across from her, picking up the two plates she hand’t touched.

“Greek Youghert and fruit? Don’t you want a waffle? I saved some whipped cream for you.” She extends the aforementioned whipped cream, earring her a slight smile from Kylo.

“You’re very kind, but no thank you. This is what I eat every morning,” he tells her. Rey scrunches her face. Kylo pours himself some black coffee too, and Rey finds the will to keep her mouth shut.

They eat in companionable silence, Rey scarfing down whatever her hands touch, and Kylo methodically eating his healthy-dude breakfast. Rey notes that neither of them are on their phones; it’s perhaps the first meal she’s had with someone in a while where that’s the case. Like everything else that’s made her heart flutter with him, she tries to ignore it.

Once the table is thoroughly pillaged, Kylo gets up to get dressed and says nothing when Rey hops on the bed and continues to watch him. He’s not embarrassed by nudity, clearly, and tosses the towel away for a solid 5 minutes before putting on underwear.

He’s fully dressed shortly and applies some product to his hair that has writing in french, yet Rey is still wearing only the robe and probably still has his come on her thighs. And other areas.

Part of her thinks he’ll just carry on with his routine as if she’s not there. He’ll pack his suit from the night before and leave the room without an second glance her way. Much to her relief, she’s wrong.

When he’s finally ready, Kylo turns toward her, leans down, and plants a soft kiss directly on her lips. It’s an infinitely more affectionate gesture than she had expected going into this, but a welcome one all the same. He stares fondly down at her when their lips part.

“The room is yours to use until 4 P.M., but I remember you have a noon curfew,” He tells her. Suddenly, Rey regrets telling Rose to call the national guard if she’s not physically in her presence before the clock strikes 12.

“I guess I’ll make do,” She teases.

They fall silent again, and for the second time that morning Kylo goes to say something, but falls short. The silence becomes too much for Rey to bear, so her cursed mouth opens of it on volition.

“I’m not sure how these are supposed to work… one night stands, I mean,” She admits. Something in Kylo’s face falls, but Rey can’t quite tell what.

“I don’t have much experience with these either,” he tells her. Rey shuffles onto her knees, so that they’re both eye-level, and extends her hand. Kylo looks at it with a hint of confusion mixed with amusement.

“Well, you’ve been a wonderful reddit-fuck. Thank you for posting,” she says, giving a mega-watt smile. He sakes her hand.

“And you’ve been a wonderful reddit-fuck-respondent. Thank you for critiquing my going about soliciting sex.” Rey opens her mouth in an exaggerated offense, but Kylo cuts her off with another sweet kiss.

She melts into it, holding his hair with her hands, letting herself mold to his torso as his tongue swipes her lower lip. The kiss is wonderful and hot and sweet all at the same time and makes her head spin.

When it’s over and she’s caught her breath again, a pang of nervousness infiltrates her consciousness. It’s over, it whispers, you’ll never see him again if you don’t do anything. He’ll leave, just like everyone else, if you let him.

“Do you have any more meetings?” She practically shouts at him. Kylo looks confused for a moment, so she goes on. “I just mean… if you needed someone to help… prepare you for your meetings, there’s a chance I’d be available.” Her voice grows softer as she keeps talking, suddenly feeling like an idiot for suggesting that at all. Before she has a chance to spiral, Kylo brings her back.

“I do… I mean, I will. That would be… very gracious of you, to offer you help.” She bites her lip to keep from smiling too hard.

“Okay, good.” She nods at him, relief washing over her as she realizes she might not be the only one who doesn’t want to let this go.

It’s a new feeling that probably shouldn’t be attached to a person whom was very clear about their desire for a no-strings hook up, but Rey has always had a preference for things that are challenging.

Kylo Ren seems as good a challenge as any.

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emotionalsupportfiction · 4 years

Text

We need warm soft fluffy things… I’ve been writing so much angst and that Critical Hit request really really hit me in the feels (I’m weak… I cried while writing them okay?) My birthday’s passed (It was last month) and this for all my readers who have or will celebrate their birthday soon. (Also myself for self-indulgence)

RGB celebrating their S/O’s birthday

Python

· He straight up pretends he forgot or will give a simple “Happy Birthday” greeting with a little kiss

· He’s actually preparing a surprise for you later on in the day

· He’s made a mental list of all the things you’ve pointed out and mentioned you wanted in the past. With his little savings, he’s bought a few of them, the ones he could afford at least

· Python’s not gonna risk ruining your cake because he made it himself, he’ll opt to get one from a baker. Nothing too fancy but nice enough to show his most favourite person he cares

· If you get a bit irritated with him because of his lacklustre greeting, that’s all part of his plan. Gives him ample time and space to get everything ready

· Python’s preparing a little private celebration for two (definitely not in his quarters or your own. So you don’t prematurely find the surprise) a few gifts from Python, some food, and small cake

· He’ll find you and blindfold you so he can take you to the surprise

· “Blindfolds? Really? If you’re trying to block out the angry look I’m giving you…” “I know I messed up sunshine… lemme make it up to you m’kay?” He cut you off and you gave him an irritated nod, if he’s trying to apologize might as well let him right?

You feel him lead you to a room. “ Aight, you can take off the blindfold…” was that nervousness in his voice? But you weren’t going to let him off easy. “Py before I started dating you I knew you were a simple guy. Not one to do anything extravagant or fancy but I was hoping maybe my birthday was an exemption? Nothing grand, maybe a small gift or a cake..” you pulled the blindfold off your face and was greeted by Python’s “little”surprise

The room was candlelit, a table at the center decorated with simple yet elegant cloth. There were a few gifts on the table and food you loved. Touched, you covered your mouth in awe then you laid your eyes on your cake. It was simple and small, partially covered with cream and topped with in-season fruit. Python hugged you from behind and kissed your temple. “I… had to act like a bit of a jerk to get this all ready for you.” He gave you a light squeeze “Sorry if I made you feel unimportant… you’re… the best person who’s ever come into my life. Always remember that.” He felt you shift in his arms, then you turned to face him. The smile and tears of joy on your face turned his insides into goo. You cupped his face “Oh Python… This is… all this. I would’ve been happy with just the cake but this is above and beyond! You’ve set the bar too high for yourself…” he knew you were trying to add some humour to the situation but he was feeling too sentimental. He planted a deep loving kiss on your lips. “I’ll do it every year to celebrate your birthday sunshine…” he whispered against your lips.

Lukas

· While he doesn’t mind planning a surprise for you, making your birthday a covert operation isn’t really his style. He’ll mention he has something planned but won’t go into specifics as to what he intends to do

· You’ll realize that as you go through your day most of your chores are finished or you’ll notice Lukas’ token care packages hanging around. Attached to those care packages are notes “I thought I’d ease your burden, considering its your name day” “Can’t have the celebrant hungry/thirsty, treat yourself my love.” “I cannot believe I’m saying but I’m actually excited to celebrate with you later tonight.” “Today is truly a special day. For it is the day the person who gave me warmth and happiness was born.”

· He might not look it but Lukas gets very romantic and mushy with you. Just like Python he has trouble expressing it. Although Python is more on at a loss on how to express his affection, Lukas is overwhelmed with the emotions and ideas on how he can show you he cares deeply about you

· It takes him some time to sort out his feelings and be organized with how he wants to express his feelings

· Lukas had planned a intimate dinner with you to celebrate your birthday, all the food he had cooked himself. He anxiously sat himself at the table waiting for your arrival. Lukas thought you were taking longer than expected, had he not done enough of your chores for the day to free up your schedule?

The sound of someone knocking on the door snapped him out of his reverie, “Lukas! Sorry I’m late, I picked up something to add to our celebration.” he perked up as heard you let yourself in. “No need to apologize…” he positioned himself to the side of the dinner table.

As you entered you noticed the spread on the table, quite the feast for just a party of two. You couldn’t help but pull Lukas into an embrace “I hope you’re alright with this, I know how you are with touchy-feely things…” you felt his body relax into your arms, slowly Lukas returned the warm gesture. Nestling his head into the crook of your neck “As long as its from you… To be honest, I’d want nothing more that for you to hold me. But shouldn’t I be the one showering you with gifts and attention? It is your name day.” You gave him a quick peck on the temple “The celebrant must also give party favours to their guests.”

Lukas lead you to the table and pulled you a seat. You couldn’t help but hungrily eye the dishes he had prepared for you though the more you looked at the food the more you realized a certain theme to them. You pointed towards one of the dishes “Isn’t that… That’s the first recipe we tried together!” A small smile crept onto Lukas’ lips “Yes, before we started dating.” You then focused your attention on another dish loaded with a fond memory “Oh! This is the one from our first date!” He nodded then pointed his hand towards another plate of food “You taught me how to make this one.” You propped your elbows on the table and rested your head onto your hands, recalling that memory. You had mentioned it was your favourite dish so Lukas wanted to learn it.

One particular dish caught your eye, it was unfamiliar, no treasured memory attached to it. “And this one?” You pointed towards it. “That’s a new dish for a new memory my love.” He pressed a soft kiss into your hair. “A traditional dish, cuisine from a faraway land. Specially made on name days. The lore behind it says that a celebrant who eats it will be granted a long and happy life.”

You hugged your lover, burying your face into his side. “Oh Lukas… As long as you’re with me I’m sure I’ll have a long and happy life.”

Forsyth

· Forsyth has way too many ideas on how to celebrate your birthday. His idea board is just… messy. Lukas and Python have to step in and help organize things

· He follows Lukas’ suggestion of a home-cooked dinner celebration but Python knows all too well that his best friend’s areas of expertise are being Clive’s #1 fan and the battlefield

· His friends offer their help but Forsyth refuse, this is something he feels like he should do alone or else it would diminish the sentiment and intimacy of the gesture. So Lukas writes a detailed recipe on how to bake a cake

· He’s too excited to keep the surprise a secret. Forsyth’s pretty much blurted it out to you (Much to the other two’s dismay) but his excitement is a gift in-it-self

· Forsyth showers you every day with attention and compliments so he thinks its time he does something for you. Or in this case, make something for you

· He hastily finishes all his chores for the day so he can head into town to buy any other ingredients he might need. Once he’s done with that, he starts working on your birthday cake

· Ever since Lukas gave him the recipe and instructions, Forsyth had diligently read and re-read it back to back. Memorizing and fully understanding every instruction and detail. In his mind as long as he followed the instructions to the letter, he could not fail despite being… not so adept in the kitchen.

Forsyth shook the doubt out of his mind and began preparing the ingredients. Measuring and sifting the dry ingredients, and readying the wet ingredients. He then proceeded to mix everything in a bowl until well incorporated. After that he poured it into a buttered cake pan and into the oven it went. Now it was time for him to prepare the cream to top the cake, he vigorously whipped the cream. Bobbing the whisk up and down to check the consistency, it should be just shy of “stiff peaks”, as per Lukas’ instructions. He moved on to preparing the berries for decoration, that was done quickly. Far too quickly, now he had to wait for the cake to finish baking, torture in other words.

He pulled a chair and seated himself in front of the oven door, anxiously eyeing the metal door knowing the fruits of love and labour were on the other side. Forsyth was tempted to open, just for a quick peek, just to make sure it wasn’t burning inside. Lukas’ instructions said not to open the over door as it would mess up the heat and the cake might not bake evenly. Forsyth twiddled his fingers nervously, what if the oven was too hot? What if the batter had overflowed? Perhaps it baked faster than anticipated? The thoughts were killing him, he tentatively reached out to open the door. “AH-AHEM.” He stopped abruptly, his eyes darted to the door of the kitchen.

Lukas stood at the door way with Python right behind him. “Told ya he’d get all fidgety and try to open the darn thing…” the archer shrugged. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO DEVIATE FROM THE INSTRUCTIONS LUKAS! I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE THE CAKE WAS BAKING PROPERLY!” Lukas motioned a calming gesture “Its alright Forsyth, we were simply checking up on you. It looks like you have a good handle on things so we’ll leave you to it.” And with that his friends left.

The specified time had passed and Forsyth pulled the finished cake out of the oven, his whole being tingling with excitement. This might be the first successful dish he’s created and his personal victory would be all sweeter since it was an effort for you, his most beloved. He looked at the cake, it looked dense. It wasn’t fluffy or spongy as the instructions described. His excitement turned to panic and he promptly called his friends to assess what had happened.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAH! Leave it to you to over mix the batter eh ol’ green bean!” Python hugged his sides, hysterical with laughter. All the colour had drained from Forsyth’s complexion, the day was coming to a close, you’d be home from duties and yet there was no cake to celebrate with. Lukas covered Python’s head with an empty bowl to silence the man. “Seems like you’re pressed for time Forsyth, let me help and I’ll leave decorating the cake to you. Would that be alright?” Lukas knew how much this meant to his comrade. It wasn’t how he planned but at this point if he didn’t get help from Lukas there would be no cake and Forsyth would feel responsible for ruining your birthday. He begrudgingly accepted Lukas’ help, pouting like a sad puppy in the corner. Once the batter was in the oven, Lukas and Python once again made their exit while wishing Forsyth good luck.

This time the cake came out fluffy. PERFECT. Now all that was left was to decorate and Forsyth got to that straight away. It was growing dark and you’d be there soon, he quickened his pace.

“Oh~ I can’t wait to taste the cake my boyfriend made just foooor me~” he heard your approach, he’d only covered one side with cream, he hadn’t even topped it yet with any berries! You peaked your head into the kitchen and behold the sight of your boyfriend frantically icing a half-naked cake. For some reason that made you feel all fuzzy inside, how worked up and passionate he was trying to make your birthday special.

Should you call his attention? You opted to. In a gentle voice you asked him “Hey Fors, whatcha doooing?” Making it sound as soft and cutesy as you could make it. He looked up to you on the brink of tears, then looked back to the cake. “Oh…” was all he could say, he looked defeated. You entered the kitchen and gave him a tight hug “Look at you my personal baker! You did amazing!” You felt him slump into your arms, eyes looking down on to the floor. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he rested his forehead onto yours. “I just… wanted to make you special day even more special… I can’t seem to do that though. Forgive me.” You shook your head, rubbing it gently against his. Giving him a quick peck on the nose as you cupped his face and looked him sincerely in the eyes “Oh Forsyth, any day I spend with you is extra extra special! You go out of your way every day to make me happy and you do just that plus so much more. Don’t beat yourself over it.” He took your hand and pressed a tender kiss into your palm. “I promise to apply myself and become a better cook… I want to do these kinds of things for you.” You pinched his cheeks “I know you will. You’re a dedicated soldier so I’m sure you’ll be a dedicated student to the culinary arts. I want to try the cake~!”

You took a bite-sized slice of the cake, it was still warm from the oven, hence the cream sliding off it but it was light, fluffy, and delicious. It was the thought and effort that was the best gift you got from Forsyth.

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thorongil82 · 4 years

Text

Forgotten But Not Gone

Fandom: Pokémon

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Word Count: 5,631

Can also be read on FFN and AO3

Summary: Ten years have passed since Ash disappeared from Pallet Town, with none of his companions and rivals knowing to where he vanished to. Now, the Pokémon Masters League, an event held every 20 years, is on once again, to find the strongest trainer in the world. Hosted in the Seishi region, who will be selected to compete in such a prestigious tournament? Will the event go ahead without a hitch, in a region still feeling the effects of the ravages of war? And will a certain young trainer resurface from the void to face what has happened?

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AN: So, here’s the story I mentioned in my update.

Decided to try my hand at one of those 'Ash disappears for x amount of time and returns for a tournament' stories, with a bit of a twist to both that and the 'Ash betrayed' concepts. It's not my first Pokémon story, though technically all that's been uploaded of the other is a prologue (over on FFN), so … more or less a new endeavour.

Now, to give a quick little bit of info, the events of this story start 10 years after the end of Ash's journey in Kalos, which is where this'll deviate from canon. We are starting from that 10 years later point, and I'll be drawing back to the events in that 10 year gap throughout, whether just as an allusion or an explanation, or as a flashback. I'll explain what happens with his Alolan journeys in the story too.

I'll have a bit more to say afterwards, so, please enjoy!

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Chapter 1 - The Frontier Is Set

The Seishi region; a land that had been ravaged by constant battles and war several years ago. Yet now, they stood in a shaky time of peace. A peace where, though the battling had come to a standstill for a few years, the people are still left recovering from their ordeals. But now, a new set of battles seem poised to engulf the region …

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The brightly lit stadium at the base of Mt Daybreak illuminates the surrounding buildings and landscape, with multiple coloured beams of light shining up into the night sky. Inside, many people are excitedly chatting with one another as they shuffle their way throughout the areas, collecting tickets, food, merchandise, or simply talking about who they believe will win tonight's oncoming battle.

Through this bustling crowd walks a group of five people. Leading at the front is a rather rotund man, clad in an aqua shirt with white Pokéballs and floral patterns typical of an Alolan design. Hanging from his neck is a pristine red Pokénav, folded down and compartmentalised, though not as shiny as his tinted sunglasses. A big grin is plastered on his face as he takes in the many people.

“Looks like we've arrived on fight night,” he grins, nodding in approval at all the spectators as a couple of kids dressed up in costumes – a girl in a small suit of flimsy fabric armour and a boy with wings on his back – dash in front of the group chasing after one another.

“Seems like it,” says one of the men behind him. Despite the slight wrinkles starting to grow on due to age, his yellow hair still stands wild, while he also wears a long sage green trenchcoat , a white turtleneck underneath and a pair of brown trousers. “Think there's any chance we can join in?”

“NO!” bellows the other man beside him, causing some people around the group to jump and glace at them. Meanwhile, the former just smirks unfazed as he grabs at his gloves and tightens them. “We are not here to battle with the locals, Palmer. We are here on business.”

“Aw, come on, Brandon,” Palmer says, looking towards the loud gentleman, adorned in a big buttoned cider green jacket and matching trousers, with thick brown hair with a few strands of grey threading through. “We're here as Frontier Brains. Surely if it's a tournament, we can just register and compete as well. We are supposed to be on the look out for strong trainers to challenge our branches wherever we go. Right, Scott?”

“Well, we shouldn't have too much trouble finding strong trainers here,” the round man leading the group chuckles. “Seishi's league has built up a reputation in its short lifespan for being strong. The gym leaders are known for being tough as nails, and the Elite Four even moreso. But, I don't think that tonight's battle is one you'll be able to join in on.”

“Come on, Scott,” Palmer groans. “It'll be fine if we take care of this business quickly, right? Then we've got all the time in the world to battle.”

“Those boys and their battles,” a woman sighs, trailing behind her companions as they continue bickering. The tallest in the group, she's donned in an outfit reminiscent of a Seviper, consisting of a purple halter neck crop top that shows off her slender figure, with long purple gloves on each hand, long black pants with a golden diamond pattern around her waist, and her long jet black hair cascading down her back, save for the red lowlights in the sides down her front.

She then turns back to the last member of their group. Another woman, her long shiny lilac hair is tied up at the base of her neck with a black ribbon before billowing out down her back to her waist. She wears a slim black blazer and matching tie, with a formal white shirt underneath, with skinny pants, shoes and gloves matching the rest of her jet black clothing. The woman is glancing around, her eyes quickly moving from one person to the next, as does those of the Espeon walking beside her, occasionally brushing her tail up against the woman's legs.

“Are you alright, Anabel?” the tall woman questions, dropping back slightly to walk beside her companion.

Anabel gives her a small nod in response, still keeping her eyes focused on the people around them.

“Epee?” calls up the Espeon at her feet, looking up at Anabel.

“I'm fine, really,” she reassures her Pokémon, all the while as a gloved hand slowly reaches into a pocket in her blazer. “Just a little anxious around this many people.”

Espeon lets out a purr and brushes herself against Anabel's legs, getting a small smile to cross her trainer's face, as her companion glances around, taking in the people who were getting more and more interested in their group. Though most of that was to do with the constant groans and insisting coming from Palmer, and the occasional bellowing denial from Brandon, the two women were also picking up some of the curious gazes due to them being part of the same group.

“Yeah, there's too many eyes on us,” she sighs, closing her eyes while clenching her hand into a fist. “If only Palmer could think of anything other than battling.”

She looks over to see Anabel give a short nod as she takes her hand out of her pocket and brings out three metallic balls, before holding the arm by her side and dropping the balls. They start to drop, only to hover in mid-air in a straight vertical line.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah, Lucy,” she nods as the balls start slowly moving in small circular motions as her fingers individually curl and flex.

The group continue moving on until they reach a desk with a few people standing behind it, while a couple of others quickly move away. One, a man with slicked back ashen brown hair and buzzed sides, catches Scott's eye as the group approaches.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“Yes, my name is Scott, and these are Palmer, Brandon, Lucy and Anabel,” he replies, gesturing to each person as he says their names, them giving a polite nod as they are introduced, before reaching inside his shirt and pulling out a document. “We were invited here by the champion for a certain meetup.”

The attendant nods as he takes the papers and quickly looks over them, before looking back up at the group.

“Of course. If you'll all follow me?” he says, getting up from his seat, quickly leaning in to whisper something to another attendant at the desk before walking off, leading the group over to a side door and through.

The group are lead up into a lift and then through a few winding corridors until they are brought before a large door.

“Please wait in here,” the attendant says as he opens the door for them. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

He gives them a short bow and walks away, leaving the group of five to walk in.

Inside is a large room that looks a little like a repurposed conference room, with a few couches spread around the sides of the room along with several chairs set up around the room. A few tables had been pushed together in the middle, with different bowls of snacks and glasses for drinks sitting atop. Positioned at the far corner of the right wall of the room from where they came in was another door, with a tinted window stretching out along the wall, while directly opposite was a third door that seemed to lead out to a viewing box for the stadium. Finally, hanging on the wall opposite the entering group of Frontier Brains is a muted TV broadcasting someone, with a round face, a flat cap on top, and four weird spiny growths growing from their cheeks, giving their analysis of the battle to come, with another couch sitting underneath.

Also, sitting around the room are seven people. The first, a woman sitting on her own with long blonde hair stretching down her back and covering her left eye, draped in a long black cloak with jet black furry cuffs and trims, a tear drop shaped ornament hanging from the base of the v-neck, a black shirt underneath, and black formal pants. She is sitting on a couch happily licking a double scoop ice cream cone and ignoring the constant flirtations of the second, a man with red and brown hair fanned out in a spiky mane, wearing a tanned poncho-style cloak with a large collared black shirt, white pants and a chain of Pokéballs hanging round his neck. The third and fourth, a man with spiked scarlet hair and dressed in a navy blue tunic with blood orange trims and black cuffs, with matching pants and a long charcoal black cape draped over his shoulders, sitting on a couch talking to an old man with a long white bushy beard and long frizzy hair, wearing a crimson vest with a light and dark blue stripe across the middle, and a pair of khaki shorts.

The fifth, a man with teal blue hair, adorned in a white beret and cape, a teal shirt with white sleeves, and purple pants, leans up against a wall with his eyes closed and arms crossed, softly humming to himself. The sixth, a woman with a light brown star-like hair design, wearing an all white outfit consisting of a long sleeved blazer with golden trims scattered throughout with two lacy wing-like bulges sticking out of the back, a pair of short shorts, and a choker from which dangles a golden swan-shaped necklace encompassing a dazzling stone, closes her violet shadowed eyes as the seventh, another woman with pine green hair and red rimmed glasses wearing a grey suit, a white shirt underneath tied off with a thin cherry ribbon tying it off, continues to talk as she gestures to the leather-bound book in her hands. All heads swivel round to the group of five as they enter, as Scott gives them all a small wave, before a few return to what they were doing beforehand, if they were doing something in particular in the first place. With a nod to the rest of his group, Scott walks over to the scarlet haired man and the bushy bearded old man, leaving the others to their devices.

“Ah, Palmer, I take it you've been training hard since our last match?” the blonde haired woman says, looking past the man with the spiky mane.

“Of course, Cynthia,” Palmer replies, walking over to the two. “I wouldn't hesitate to challenge you to another battle. Even here and now if it would take your fancy?”

Both Brandon and Lucy sigh at Palmer's challenge as The Tower Tycoon integrates himself into the conversation with Cynthia and the Unova Champion, Alder. Brandon then heads over to join in with Scott, the joint Kanto and Johto Champion Lance, and the head of the Pokémon League, Mr Goodshow. Anabel moves over to an empty chair and sits herself down, giving her Espeon a pat with her left hand as she jumps up into the Salon Maiden's lap, while using the right to keep the three metallic balls orbiting round through the air beside her. Finally, Lucy takes up a space nearby by an empty space on the wall, keeping an eye on the room and on Anabel.

After a few moments, the door by the tinted window opens up. First through is a giant hulk of a man, large in bulk and height. His arms are as thick as tree trunks, with winding braided and rune covered tattoos weaving along each arm, while wearing a sage green jumper with rolled up sleeves, thick brown gloves on each hand, and beige overalls sitting across his chest and legs. Sitting around his forehead is a thin golden band, while his golden hair with strands of grey is slicked back, along with his neatly brushed golden beard.

The second through is a young looking woman with tanned skin and shiny silver hair tied up into a ponytail. Wearing a thin white crop top and short jeans with an aqua blue sarong wrapped around her waist, she bounces in with a smile, looking around the room. Her eyes seem to light up even more as she spots Anabel, though, when she notices the lack of recognition from the Salon Maiden, it returns to the still energetic beam from before, as she leaps over the arm rest of the couch underneath the TV and lands at the same time as the giant before her.

The third and final through, as he shuts the door behind him, is a man with dark brown skin and braided chocolate brown hair, wearing a loose sky blue t-shirt over a skintight black undershirt and baggy black tracksuit pants. He takes his place between the two that came in before him, though he remains standing up.

“I'm sorry for the wait,” the man says with a short bow. “On behalf of the Seishi Pokémon League, I welcome all of you to our home. If I may begin the introductions, the man to my right is Sheamus, one of our Elite Four members.”

He gestures to the large burly man, who gives a nod and a grin as he raises his hand in greeting.

“To my left is Hikaru, another of our Elite Four members,” he replies, gesturing to the young woman on his other side who gives everyone a big wave and flashes a large shiny smile.”

“Hiya! How're you doing?!” she beams.

“And I'm Raphael, Leader of the Elite Four and Former Champion of Seishi,” he finishes with a bow. “Should we proceed with the other introductions, or are the rest of you acquainted?”

“Oh please, allow me,” Scott says as he stands up. “If you fine folk are not aware, I'm Scott, the head of the Battle Frontier. The people I came in with are the Tower Tycoon Palmer, from our Sinnoh branch, along with the Pike Queen Lucy, Salon Maiden Anabel, and Pyramid King Brandon, all from our Kanto branch.”

Each of the Frontier Brains gives a short nod and a wave as they are mentioned, before Scott continues on with his speech.

“I would have brought someone from our Johto branch as well if I could, but I'm afraid they were all busy with challengers,” Scott chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “As for the rest, beside me is the head of the Pokémon League, Mr Charles Goodshow, and the joint Kanto and Johto Champion, Lance.”

Both give a polite nod, letting Scott get on with the introductions.

“Over by our battling veteran Palmer is the Sinnoh Champion Cynthia, and the Champion of Unova, Alder.”

Alder gives a chuckle and a wave, while Cynthia gives a kind nod before returning to her ice cream.

“Continuing on, leaning against the wall over there is the recently recrowned Hoenn Champion and Top Coordinator, Wallace.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wallace says with a smile.

“And last, but certainly not least, the duo sitting over there is the Kalos Champion and superstar of the big screen, Diantha, along with, if what I've heard is correct, her manager, Kathi Lee.”

“Yes, that's correct,” Kathi Lee confirms as she snaps her book shut, while Diantha gives a simple smile to the rest of the room.

“Now, unless anyone has anyone else to say, I'll pass over to Mr Goodshow to explain why we're here.”

“If I may,” Alder interjects as Scott finishes, leaving the many powerful trainers in the room to look over at him, “I believe we were all summoned here by the word of Seishi's Champion. So, with all due respect, why is he not here to meet with us?”

“Ah, yes, well, that was initially the plan,” Raphael begins.

“However, the plans seem to have changed a bit thanks to tonight's battle,” Sheamus continues with a low, gruff voice.

“Is tonight's battle a title match?” Wallace questions, pushing himself off the wall and standing upright.

“No, it's a battle with our absent Elite Four member,” Hikaru explains. “It just so happens that he's giving her a hand with some last minute battle preparations.”

“Our hope was that he would still be ready to discuss terms with the rest of you, but it seems like they're taking longer than expected,” Raphael continues as he takes a seat between his fellow Elite Four members. “And besides, I tend to be the one who is more involved with any administrative work anyway, so it's not too big of a loss.”

“Alright then,” Wallace concedes. “Mr Goodshow?”

“Thank you,” Mr Goodshow says as he stands up, though is cut off as Lance holds up a hand to cut him off.

“I'm sorry, Mr Goodshow, but if you'll excuse me, I'm wondering why Scott decided to bring four Frontier Brains along with him for our talks,” the Dragon Master cuts in, looking towards the slightly rotund individual.

“Well, as I said I was hoping to have a member from each branch here, to make sure whatever concerns they had, if there were any, were taken care of,” Scott explains. “As it were, there was another reason for us to come.”

“Yes, I'd heard from our Champion that you were hoping to open a Battle Frontier branch here in Seishi,” Raphael responds. “I take it you were hoping to find strong candidates through this upcoming tournament to take the place of the Frontier Brains here?”

“Indeed I was,” Scott chuckles in good nature.

“Perhaps we should explain that the people here aren't that fond of outsiders,” Sheamus points out. “Particularly if they feel they cannot trust them.”

“I have been made aware of that, both by Brandon and others who have travelled here,” Scott responds. “That's why I was hoping to build it out of people local to the region, to keep the trust of the people. At the absolute most, your Champion and I were discussing the possibility of transferring one of our Kanto branch over to help set it up, and potentially be the final challenge.”

“You were?” Lucy pipes up, the three present Kanto Frontier Brains looking over to Scott in surprise.

“Indeed,” Scott confirms. “In truth, we were going to pick between one of the three I brought here, if it was needed. Though, admittedly, there were some complications with each of you.”

“Such as?”

“Well, Brandon still wants to continue on with his research into the many ruins around the world. It would be a bit difficult to set up a new branch around a man who may not be there for a decent amount of the time.”

“That is true,” Brandon concedes.

“As for you, I'm well aware that you aren't too comfortable around a lot of new people, despite how you like to hold yourself,” Scott continues, getting a slight blush from Lucy as she turns her head away. “I'm sure you'd come if I'd ask you to, but you'd probably prefer to stay at the Battle Pike right now. Lucy doesn't give much of a response other than a short hum, keeping her head turned away to try and hide the slight blush dusting her cheeks.

“Now, Spencer was also an option, but he is starting to get on in his age, though you better not tell him I said that,” Scott finishes with a laugh. “I believe it'd be a bit rough asking him to move over if he's not wanting to, or able to, keep competing in a few years time.”

“So, that leaves Anabel,” Scott concludes, with the many eyes in the room turning towards the Salon Maiden. “Had it been quite a few years earlier, I don't think there would be any question about her capability in fronting a branch here. But, as some of you know, there are some … hurdles that still need dealing with.”

Despite the number of eyes on her, Anabel shows no sign that she heard anything that Scott had said about her, instead focusing purely giving her Espeon some scratches underneath her chin, getting a delighted purr from the Sun Pokémon while still absentmindedly spinning the three metallic balls above her gloved right hand.

“But, perhaps that conversation should be continued with the presence of the Champion,” Scott concedes, turning back to the others. “So, are there any other questions?”

No one else raises any objections, leaving Scott to turn towards Mr Goodshow.

“Well, then, Charles, if you would?”

“Thank you, Scott,” the elderly man says as he stands upright. “And thank you to the rest of you for turning up.”

“Now, as you all know, we are here to discuss terms for the Pokémon Masters League coming up in a few months. Seishi is intended to be the hosts, and for the most part the preparations will be organised between us in the Pokémon League and Seishi region authorities, along with the Wallace Cup that's to be held.”

“Yeah!” cheers Hikaru as she leaps up from her seat. “I'll be working alongside Wallace to take care of that, if that's okay with you?”

“Of course,” Wallace says with a simple nod of his head. “I'd be glad to work alongside a fellow Top Coordinator to bring this prestigious contest to life here.”

“Awesome! We're going to make this the greatest contest ever!”

“As for the rest of you, you are brought in to make sure that the conditions work with the expectations of your own League members,” Charles continues on. “Each region will take care of nominating the participants coming from their own regions. If there's someone else from another region that you believe should be a part of the competition, then that's up to you to negotiate with their corresponding region.”

“I'm guessing that, because no one from Galar is here, that you weren't able to come to terms with them?” Cynthia pipes up.

“No, I'm afraid not,” Mr Goodshow answers says with the shake of his head. “Unfortunately, Chairman Rose refused to budge on his insistence of having portable Power Spots built here in Seishi to accommodate the Dynamax phenomenon that's prevalent in Galar. As it was, the professors and scientists here opposed the decision, as they can't say what kind of effect the energy dispersed from such an energy source could have on the surrounding area.”

“Especially as they aren't too sure what the continuous effects are of the energy the land gives off anyway,” Raphael adds on. “One of our Gym Leaders is leading the research into the full effects, along with our own Pokémon Professor.”

“Wouldn't that make Seishi a dangerous place to hold the World Championships, then?” Wallace inquires.

“As far as we can tell, it doesn't seem to have any major affects on either people or Pokémon, beyond expanding the move limit a Pokémon has from four to eight,” Raphael explains.

“It also appears to make the local flora blossom at a quicker rate, and at greater levels than other regions,” Sheamus adds on. “Of course, that is purely speculation based off of my own experiences in the field.”

As the talks continue on, Anabel starts to tune the others out as she keeps her focus on her Espeon, continuing to scratch her under her chin while also floating the balls above her hand. She keeps this up for a few moments, the noise of the others' conversations fading away into the void of her mind, before a small spike seems to emanate from her mind.

'… Anabel …' a soft male voice reverberates through her head, causing her to grimace as she grabs at her temple with the hand that was rubbing Espeon. The floating balls falter in mid-air, the wider arcs tightening up as they begin to spiral back into a vertical line.

“Anabel?” a different soft voice comes from outside, as Lucy suddenly places a hand on Anabel's shoulder, also getting the attention of Brandon and Scott. “What's wrong?”

'… I'm sorry ...'

“I ...” Anabel gasps, before whimpering as her head is racked with a sudden severe pain, coursing through her brain like an intense thunderstorm constantly striking her over and over with lightning bolts.

The metallic balls floating above her hand seem to shake in the single line that they currently hold, before, with another sharp gasp of pain, they shoot off quickly in different directions, a few of the others in the room quickly diving to the ground as they hurtle away.

“Espee? Pee! Espee!” Espeon cries out, her front paws pressing up against her trainer's waist. Her cries fail to get through, though, with Anabel crouching over and placing her other hand on her temple, as the sharp jolting pain continues to surge through her brain.

“Anabel?!” Lucy calls out as she crouches next to her fellow Frontier Brain, gripping onto her shoulders with both her hands. Ripples of energy start to emanate out from the Salon Maiden, as the pulses shake and vibrate the air and ground. “Talk to me.”

“I-I … I … Ah!” Anabel manages to sputter out before another wave of pain crashes through her. In a flash of light from Anabel's belt, a Pokéball pops open with a shiny sparkle, revealing a Gardevoir of an abnormal colour; with aqua blue skin where there would normally be green and orange where there would be red.

“Gardevoir?!” Gardevoir cries out as it appears, before quickly taking its place beside Lucy, placing her hands upon her trainer's temple, the lithe limbs delicately sliding underneath the gloved hands of Anabel. “Gar? Gardevoir?!”

“It just started happening again,” Lucy explains desperately, while all she receives from the Salon Maiden is a shaky nod. Gardevoir then closes her eyes and starts to hum, as a circle of light pink energy radiates out from her.

“It's using Heal Pulse,” Diantha observes as the glowing energy created by the Embrace Pokémon starts to wash over Anabel. Her pained whimpers and gasps quickly fade away as the healing power takes hold, the pulsating pink light slowly fading away. With the last of the energy dispersing, Anabel straightens back up, a small smile on her face as a hand reaches up to cradle one of Gardevoir's.

“Thank you, my friend,” she whispers.

“Voir,” Gardevoir nods, standing upright before gliding behind her trainer. Anabel reaches down to scratch Espeon's ears as the shiny Gardevoir rests her head atop the Salon Maiden's and wraps her arms around her from behind, gaining a slight squeeze from Anabel.

“I'm alright now,” she says, albeit a little shakily, moreso to her Pokémon than to anyone else. However, as she finishes giving both Pokémon a gentle squeeze and scratch, her eyes drop down to meet Lucy's, who's still looking up at her with a worried expression.

“Are you sure?” she presses, ignoring the other eyes on them as she gets a nod from the trainer, along with an affirmative confirmation from both Espeon and Gardevoir. “Do you know what triggered it this time?”

Anabel takes in a deep breath and closes her eyes, before quickly opening them and sharply gazing over towards the tinted window.

“There's someone behind there,” she declares, causing the others to look over to the same place.

With a sigh, Raphael stands up and says, “If you'll excuse me for a moment,” before heading walking across and through the door by the window.

“Is there a problem?” Cynthia puts to the two remaining Elites as the door clicks shut behind Raphael.

“No, not at all,” Sheamus replies with a boisterous laugh. “If I had to guess, I'd say our Champion has finally arrived.”

“I guess Jeanne's preparations are done,” Hikaru muses, shuffling her body round so she is sitting with her back against the seat of the couch and her legs resting on the back.

“Was that the hurdle you were talking about?” Lance quietly asks Scott, leaning over as they keep an eye on Anabel.

“That's part of it,” Scott admits, shifting his legs back flat against the chair to get out of the way of Espeon, having jumped down off of Anabel's lap to collect up the balls that had been sent flying around the room.

“Part of it?” Lance repeats, hoping to press for more, only to be left without an answer as the door opens up again. All eyes in the room head over to the entrance as Raphael walks back in, followed closely behind by another individual.

The person accompanying Raphael has wild shoulder length hair that spikes out at random angles, with a large bang that covers the left side of his face. The right side is partially covered by a wide-brimmed hat tilted down over it, obscuring the eye while still showing off some of the scars, gashes and burns spread across his right cheek and jawline. Draped over his shoulders is a midnight black cloak with a small golden outline, closed up over his chest and stretching down to his knees. Peaking out underneath the cloak is a worn and slightly ripped pair of navy blue pants.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to present our Champion, Aaron,” Raphael introduces, who wordlessly greets the room with a tip of his hat with his right hand, revealing a seemingly sleeveless arm and a fingerless glove with a small round cerulean gem embedded into the back. Anabel almost swears she sees his head shift slightly in her direction while he had his hat tipped, only for it to return upright in the blink of an eye.

“Jeanne's all ready to go?” Sheamus asks, getting another silent response as the Champion nods.

“Well, it is nearly time for the battle to start,” Raphael muses aloud while glancing over to the TV screen, the camera image having switched to the battlefield as the noise of the crowd outside starts to pick up. “Seeing as we've pretty much taken care of everything we need to, why don't you all stick around and watch the battle? There's a private viewing box through that door that we Elites tend to use for challenges here.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Alder accepts, along with the Frontier Brains and Champions, save for Diantha who glances towards her manager. “I guess it can fit in our schedule,” Kathi Lee says after a short beat, having looked through her journal. “But we're leaving if it starts to take too long. You need to get back for a shoot in Lumiose City tomorrow.”

Diantha lets out a little giggle as she gets up, along with the others, and they start to make their way over to the door, with Sheamus opening the door for them. Both Alder and Palmer dart over to the tables to grab some food, both getting a bowl of different flavoured chips, while Lucy grabs a cup of tea for both her and Anabel. Diantha also skips back over to the table and cuts herself a big slice of the chocolate cake sitting there, much to the dismay of her manager, before being joined by Cynthia.

“You guys go ahead,” Scott says, mainly addressing his Frontier Brains as he and Mr Goodshow move over towards Aaron and Raphael instead.

“We've still got a few more details to go over with our host here,” Mr Goodshow explains.

The others all nod as they walk on through. Anabel lags behind at the door, as does Lucy who is keeping an eye on the Salon Maiden, as she pulls out a Pokéball, enlarges it, and starts to aim it at her Gardevoir, only to stop as Gardevoir shakes its head.

“You want to stay out?”

“Voir,” Gardevoir answers with a nod.

“Okay,” she concedes, before minimising the ball and placing it back on her waist.

“Espee,” Espeon pipes up as she comes over, eyes gleaming in a pale blue light as the three metallic balls that were scattered earlier float back up to Anabel, each outlined in the same blue light.

“Thank you, Espeon,” Anabel says with a small smile, taking the balls and pocketing them inside her blazer. As she does, she glances back over her shoulder, spotting Aaron expressionlessly looking in her direction along with Raphael and Scott, the latter giving her a smile and a nod, while Mr Goodshow seems to be caught up on the footage on screen.

'You were the one in my head, right?' Anabel contemplates as her eyes seem to catch with Aaron's, barely seeing his left through the thicket of hair obstructing it. There almost seems to be a slight shimmer flickering in that eye, as their gazes lock onto each other's.

'Why? What do you-?'

“Anabel?” Lucy speaks up, breaking the Salon Maiden out of her thoughts.

With a shake of her head, she lets out a breath before walking out into the spectator box, accepting Lucy's offered cup of tea with a short thanks as they pass through together, with Hikaru the last to leave, sliding the door shut behind her. With that door shut, the door by the window opens back up, with a Pikachu swinging in by the handle. Dropping down, the yellow Mouse Pokémon darts across the floor before climbing up Aaron's back, sitting up on his right shoulder.

“Pika pi,” Pikachu sadly says, his ears drooping down as he glances to the Champion. “Pikachu?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Aaron softly answers, giving his partner a nod and a short pat between his ears.

“Pika …”

“Couldn't help yourself, eh Champ?” Raphael sighs.

“She hasn't …?” Aaron inquires, directing it towards Scott.

“No,” he replies with a shake of his head. “Anabel still hasn't regained her memories.”

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

AN: Well, I wonder who that could be …

So, yeah, part of why I was wanting to write this story was to play around a bit with the concept of Anabel having amnesia, which was brought in in S&M. With some differences, of course.

Now, the next chapter was going to be people - particularly Ash's former companions - finding out if they've been invited to compete in the tournament. That'll still be a chapter, but maybe not the next depending on what you guys want. I'm giving you all the option as to if you want the planned next chapter to be next, or if you'd rather read the battle between the challenger and the other Elite Four member, Jeanne. The challenger was initially going to be between 3 people, but now down to 2. Alder was one of my options, but I decided against it. Otherwise, there would have been a different champion representing Unova. 1 guess as to who that is. So, by all means let me know if you've got a preference.

Also, please feel free to let me know what you think so far. Thoughts, feedback, analysis, predictions, suggestions, all are welcome. I'm happy for people to suggest OCs for contenders in the tournament - I can't promise that they'll last - or even if there's a particular ship you want to see. I make no promises it'll be there, and I'm not budging on 2 ships that will be happening in the story. Beyond that, anything could happen.

I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Obviously that'll depend on what's coming next, so, until then, adios!

#pokemon #fanfiction #fanfic #ash ketchum #pokemon fanfic #my writing #forgotten but not gone #anabel #lila #satoshi #pikachu #battle frontier #abilityshipping

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epic-ash-and-sora-fan · 4 years

Text

Alive Chap 1

Clemont thought that getting the chance to be an intern at a new facility would be a valuable learning experience. Little did he know this facility held a huge secret which could change the world as they knew it! (Diodeshipping)

Chapter 1: The Amazing Facility

No way…

Clemont stared at the letter in his hands. His breakfast cereal sat forgotten on the table. The teen couldn't even fathom how this was happening. Was Placebo Net seriously inviting him to work as a temporary intern?

Placebo Net was a relatively new facility, but they already made a name for themselves. They're dedicated to creating various tools and drugs that improve the quality of life for people and pokemon. They're close to curing several diseases and even stunned doctors by helping someone walk again. Placebo Net made the impossible possible. Why would they ask him to be an intern at his age?! What insane universe did he wake up in this morning?

"Clemont, you've been gawking at that letter for ages, what's it about?" asked a youthful voice beside him.

"Sorry, Bonnie. It's from Placebo Net. They… want me as an intern."

"Wow, really?!" cried Bonnie. "Cool! They made all those new medicines right?"

"Yeah, it's only a temporary thing, but I could learn a lot."

"You're gonna accept then?"

"Maybe…" said Clemont as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm a little hesitant to leave the gym but… Clembot has been keen to go solo for a while, so I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping."

"Well keep an eye out for keepers because I won't be around to help with that," said Bonnie with a wink.

"Bonnie!" moaned Clemont. Then he smiled. "Okay, I'll do it. What harm could it do?"

The rest of the day consisted of calling Placebo Net to inform them of his decision. He also made certain all was in order for Clembot to run the gym in his absence. He is due to start tomorrow, and it would, for the most part, be an induction day. Placebo Net wasn't ridiculously far from Lumiose City. Just an hour's train ride to Kuro City so it wasn't like he would be miles and miles away. Still, the manager of Placebo Net suggested Clemont actually roomed at Placebo Net. Not only it would make things easier for them both it would also be more cost-effective for Clemont to not have to pay for train tickets every day. The teen couldn't argue with that logic so he agreed. Bonnie pouted upon hearing this.

"Can't I come with you Clemont?" she asked sadly.

"I wish you could Bonnie, but I'm going to be really busy. It isn't like at the gym where I could watch you during a lull in challengers, I'll likely be gone all day."

Plus, Clemont was sure the researchers wouldn't appreciate his sister getting under their feet all the time while they were trying to work.

----

Clothes, check. Toothbrush, check. Pokeballs, check.

"Clemont this is the eighth time you went through that list. You have everything already!" griped Bonnie as she watched from the doorway.

"One can't be too careful Bonnie," said Clemont as he got up from his cross-legged position on his bedroom floor. He picked up his backpack which was now several times heavier then went to give his sister a hug.

"You be good okay. I'll call when I get the chance."

"Okay. I love you Clemont."

"I love you too."

Meyer walked into the room with a lunch box

"A little something to eat on the train. It's not your mum's cooking, Arceus rest her soul, but it's filling I'd imagine."

"Thanks, Dad," said Clemont as he accepted the lunch box and was just able to fit it into his already crammed backpack.

"Well, good luck son. Work hard and keep us posted, and don't worry, Bonnie and I will hold down the fort."

Clemont nodded and after more goodbye hugs Clemont left the gym. He glanced back at the building for a moment, knowing he won't be back for a while.

"No turning back now," he said to himself and continued on.

----

Clemont was now getting off the train at Kuro Station. Kuro City was as the name implied. Everything was dark coloured. Even the pavement somehow. The flower baskets dangling from various homes were the only things with even an ounce of colour.

Clemont pulled out his map and was somewhat surprised to find Placebo Net was only a couple of blocks away. Along the way the blonde watched everyone go about their business. Children not much younger than Bonnie played hopscotch in a play area with a Skitty. There was a salon where a woman was reading a magazine while waiting for a man to finish grooming what Clemont presumed was her Furfrou. A pansear walked up to Clemont and handed him a leaflet that advertised a pastry shop. The teen placed the flyer into his pocket to review later. He also strolled by a flower stall where a young woman was making flower bracelets with the aid of her Floette.

"Here we are!"

The building was incredibly modest. It was about 30 stories tall and the walls were a dull grey. The windows were so clean, Clemont would forgive anyone for thinking there were no windows at all. The glass door slid open as he approached. Inside was a sharp contrast to the exterior. The walls and floor were pure white. There were tall plants in each corner of the lobby and there were light blue chairs by the windows. Clemont soon reached the desk where a brunette woman with a loose ponytail was typing something on the computer.

"Ahem… erm excuse me, I'm the new temp intern starting today." Clemont stuttered as he presented the badge he received for verification.

The woman peered up and smiled.

"Ah, yes let's see."

The woman accepted the badge and scanned it on a machine next to her computer. After it made a happy beep, she nodded and handed the card back.

"So you're Clemont. Well, everything seems in order. I'll let the boss know you're here. So if you'll take a seat."

"That won't be necessary, Heather. I'm already here." announced a new voice. Clemont turned to see a middle-aged man walking towards the desk. "Appreciate the sentiment though."

Heather nodded returning to her work. The man turned to Clemont. He had dark brown thinning hair, and he wore a lab coat over his mint green shirt.

"Wonderful to meet you Clemont," he said as he held out his hand which the inventor took. "Again, I'm delighted you accepted our invitation. My name is Brad. I believe we spoke on the phone."

Clemont nodded.

"Thank you for inviting me. It will be a valuable learning experience."

"That it will." laughed Brad. "Every day is a learning experience here. Now, why don't we start with a tour? Would you like anything to drink? A snack perhaps?"

"No thanks. I had something on the train."

"Well if you change your mind, let me know," said Brad as they headed towards the door he entered through which turned out to be an elevator. Brad pressed a button, and they ascended. They went up a few floors before the elevator beeped and the doors opened.

"This is the research floor," said Brad. "Self-explanatory. We learn everything we can about diseases and how they can affect the human body. Same thing with pokemon. We're now researching Pokerus and determining if there are any hidden adverse effects of contracting it. So far all we've found is that it can occasionally cause mild skin irritation, and that's only in very rare cases and is treatable with prescription cream."

Clemont looked around. There were many people either on computers or looking through microscopes. Someone jotted their findings on a tablet.

"As you can see they're very diligent," said Brad with a smile.

"This is fascinating!" cried Clemont. "I can't believe how efficient everything is."

"Haha, if you're impressed already, I can't wait to show you the rest of the building," laughed Brad.

The tour continued at a steady clip. Brad showed Clemont the computer room and another research room. There were several break rooms and rest areas for all-nighters.

"We'll this one up to be your room," said Brad. "Why don't you leave your backpack here. It looks heavy."

"It is. Thanks," said Clemont as he took off his backpack giving his shoulders some much needed relief, and placed it on the bed. Once that was done with they continued the tour.

"This is where the magic happens," said Brad as they entered a laboratory. "Once we've determined that the drug works and is safe to use, we send it to hospitals or pokemon centers depending on who needs it."

"Hello sir." said a blonde woman as she entered the room carrying a small case. "What brings you here if I may be so bold?"

"You may," said Brad. "I'm showing our new intern the ropes.

"Oh, of course! That was today." cried the woman. "I can be such an airhead sometimes. Nice to meet you. Clemont right?"

"That's right," said Clemont as he shook her hand.

"Well, I'll be looking forward to working with you." the blonde woman turned to Brad and whispered something to him. Brad smiled reassuringly.

"I'll tell him Freya, just getting the induction done with first."

"Sorry, tell me what?" asked Clemont. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. What was Placebo Net up to?

The researcher flinched as if he knew he let something slip. He sighed but smiled.

"Well I suppose it won't hurt to inform you now, but first I should explain a few things. I hope you'll listen before making any decisions."

Against his better judgement, Clemont nodded.

"Then let's head up a couple of floors," said Brad.

Clemont followed Brad to the elevator while clutching at his sleeves. He had expected a normal internship, but this was turning out to be something creepy and even a little shady. He stayed silent in the elevator wondering what Brad wanted to tell him.

"Now what I'm about to tell you is… let's say unusual, and we're not ready to go public with it yet. We'd be grateful if you keep what you're about to see under your hat for the time being."

Clemont nodded.

"Yes, of course."

The elevator door opened. The duo walked down the hallway and through a door that led to another laboratory. It had lots of glass tubes of varying sizes sat on top of a large table. The contents of the tubes made Clemont's stomach turn.

"Is…. is that…?"

"Yep," answered Brad. "That is a human heart."

In fact, each tube held a different organ. Lungs, kidneys, a liver, a stomach and even what appeared to be a human brain.

"Wha… what is this!?" he cried disgusted by what he saw in front of him. Brad let out a loud laugh.

"Had you going, didn't I? You can relax Clemont, we didn't gut anybody. These are artificial, surprise!"

"They're not real?"

"Technically, no," said Brad. "but they don't have to be. They work just like the real thing."

It took a few seconds for that sentence to sink in, but when they did they hit Clemont like a truck.

"What?!"

"You heard right," said Brad smirking as if he was enjoying this. "It took a lot of trial and error, but we have been able to create a working heart out of synthetic fibres. They are 100% eco-friendly. No plastic whatsoever. I remember the first breakthrough well. We created an artificial heart. Then we wired it to an artificial human brain. We gave the heart a little jolt, not much different from a defibrillator. The heart began to beat! Only for a few seconds but it was beating! I'm amazed Officer Jenny didn't come knocking from how loudly we celebrated. After countless failures, we finally created a heart that worked! Now we just had to keep it working. This is revolutionary! Transplant waiting lists will be a thing of the past if we can pull this off! If someone needs a new heart. We could build one and best of all it would be adaptable to that person's blood type so there will be no risk of rejection. We've even made artificial blood and blood cells. Yes, blood cells! In simpler terms, whatever the human body has. We've made a synthetic version."

Clemont could hardly believe what he heard. If what Brad was saying is true, then it truly was revolutionary. It could change lives! This was like something out of a sci-fi movie.

"So…. you…. you could even replace brains?" he asked.

Brad let out a nervous laugh.

"Well, I don't about that. They are just for research and testing other organs. It's the brain that tells them what to do after all."

"So… you've made an artificial version of everything? Could you even make skin? Hair? Bones?!"

Brad gave the inventor another smile.

"I think I'll let you be the judge of that. Come with me."

Clemont followed Brad back into the hallway still reeling from what he was being told. What could top artificial, working organs?

"Through here," said Brad as he led Clemont through another door. The long room was almost empty. Just a few tables with a computer on each one. There seemed to be a window in front of the desks but it showed what was in the room next to this one.

"We'll use this one-way mirror for the time being," said Brad. "We might scare him."

"Him?"

Brad said no more. He gestured to the one-way mirror so Clemont walked towards it and peered in. He saw an empty room with a single bed. On the bed, someone appeared to be asleep. It was a boy, not much older than Clemont. He had tanned skin and black messy hair. The blonde couldn't see much else though as the boy was under the bedsheets. At first, Clemont thought it might've been another intern and wondered why Brad was showing him this. Then another possibility crossed his mind, and it made him weak at the knees.

"That…. that's not…."

"It is," said Brad looking serious. "That boy…. is the first completely artificial human."

#pokemon #Ash Ketchum #clemont #ash x clemont #diodeshipping #fanfic #fanfiction

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goofygomez · 5 years

Text

Goodbye Pt. 1 - TWDG Oneshot

Description: AU where Lee is with Clem and AJ in the car at the start of season 4. Clem’s introduction to the boarding school is about to get messy.

Wordcount: 3918

Hey there! I hope you guys enjoy this story. It was an idea I came up with while replaying the first episode of the Final Season, with the help of @spaceglazing.

---

“Okay, go again.”

AJ was leaning forward from the backseat, his right hand on Lee’s shoulder as the older man explained a road trip game he used to play. Clementine sat at the driver’s seat, her hands on the ten and two position, following Lee’s previous instructions to keep her eyes on the road.

Lee chuckled and nodded, his eyes on the dashboard, examining the lights displayed there. There wasn’t really an abundance of oil in the apocalypse, but they had managed to find a half-full can in an abandoned gas station. Lee had called it half-empty, but Clementine liked to think positively. The speedometer read 65 miles per hour, the speed limit before all hell broke loose and laws had ceased to exist.

The afternoon sun was setting ahead of them, a beacon of light guiding them west in their quest to find a home. It was a yellowish orange, Clem’s favorite color.

“So, you have to find a license plate from another state; in this case, one that isn’t from West Virginia,” Lee explained for the third time, pointing to a busted car on the side of the road to use as an example. “When you find one, you call out the name of the state you found and you get a point.”

“There aren’t many cars around,” AJ pointed out, squinting as another broken-down car. Unfortunately, it boasted West Virginia’s plate, so he slumped back. “This is boring.”

“It used to be much more fun,” Clem said, her eyes glued to the road. “I remember my dad used to let me win all the time. He thought I didn’t notice, but I didn’t mind.”

Silence fell over the threesome. The engine revved as Clem drove through the countryside, avoiding potholes and bodies alike. At one point, they passed a crawling walker on the right, its arm reaching forward for them. Clem liked those moments where they would sit in silence and just admire the sunset.

Clem’s moment of silence was broken by AJ’s stomach grumbling. She looked to her right and exchanged a look with Lee. He frowned. They hadn’t found food in at least two days, and their rations were getting scarce. Lee reached into the backpack at his feet and produced a small open bag of chips. He shook it gently and they heard its crinkling.

“Here you go, kiddo,” Lee said, reaching over the seat and handing him the bag. “Enjoy.”

AJ looked down at the bag and frowned. “What about you guys?”

Lee and Clem shared another look and smiled. “We’ll find something else soon,” Clem promised. “Dig in.”

They drove on, listening to AJ’s hesitant chewing. Just before Clem lost all hope of keeping her word, she spotted a small side street that seemed to be blocked off by two upturned train cars. She parked right beside a fenced-out entrance with a small bell hanging from a post. A sign over it read “Ring if you’re friendly.”

Lee looked over Clem’s shoulder and examined the area. The train cars had formed a narrow pathway that led to a shack. It looked to be abandoned, but they had learned the hard way not to make those assumptions too fast. He looked to the girl and nodded. “You think we could find something here?”

“Worth a shot,” Clem said, shrugging. She opened the door and stepped out of the car. Lee and AJ followed. She opened the trunk and grabbed a crowbar for herself. Lee had taught her how to swing it with deadly force. She liked the way the weight felt in her hands.

They walked toward the fences. The three of them shared a look as they saw the sign over the bell and silently agreed that ringing it would not be the best idea. Clem led the way in, followed by AJ, Lee holding the rear. The small makeshift hallway was empty, as far as Clementine could tell. Signs of people having lived there littered the place, however: empty sacks of potatoes, a broken-down radio, and at least a dozen pieces of torn clothing.

When they got to the shack, a gurgling noise caught Clem’s attention. A walker had risen to their right, waddling its way to them, its arms outstretched. With a sigh, Clem stepped forward and swung her crowbar. She caught the walker clean on the side of the face with a crack, and the monster fell to the ground, unmoving.

“Nice one,” Lee complimented, kneeling down to search the body. He sighed. “Nothing.”

“Figured,” Clem said. “Let’s keep looking.”

Clem approached the porch of the shack. The door was a deep red with scratches all over it, its peephole covered with tape. Before she had a chance to go in and inspect the house, he heard AJ call for Lee.

“What’s this?” he asked, pointing at a tire hanging from a tree branch.

“That’s a swing,” Lee answered, kneeling down to AJ’s level. “You get in here, and someone pushes you so you go real high.”

“Oh,” AJ said, tilting his head, “like when you pushed Clem when she was little?”

“Exactly, AJ,” Lee said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Once we clear this place, I’ll push you if you want.”

AJ smiled and nodded. “I’d like that… after we clear the house, of course.”

“Of course.”

Smiling, Clem turned back to the door and tried the handle. Locked. Of course, thought Clem, rolling her eyes. She jammed the crowbar in the crack between the door and the frame and pulled to pry it open, much like Lee had taught her. In one swift motion, the door had creaked open.

She called Lee and AJ and the two of them followed her in, looking around. The house consisted of a single room attached to what looked like a ticket booth behind bars. On the right was a table with unwashed dishes and empty jars on it. The walls were plastered with posters, most of which hung lopsided on a single tack, their messages long gone.

To their left, however, they saw two walkers tied to chairs, their hands reaching for the newcomers. It was a woman and a man, or they had been in life. Now, the only difference between them was the length of what little hair they had left on their heads. Their dead, expressionless eyes looked through Clem, Lee, and AJ, seeing only prey to hunt.

At the feet of what Clem assumed had been the man was a small piece of paper and a bottle. The bottle was labeled ‘Poison’. Clem saw a small keychain with two silver keys hanging off the man’s belt, dangling slowly as the walker reached for its target.

“Please leave us alone. This is what we wanted,” read Clementine, frowning.

“Did they give up?” AJ asked.

“I guess so,” Lee said, taking the paper gently from Clem’s hands. “A lot of people can’t handle this world, and they take what they think is the easy way out.”

“Trust me,” Clem said, hugging herself and looking away. “It’s not easy.”

Lee looked down at her with a sad expression, understanding in his eyes. He placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded. She did the same, making an effort not to let the tears fill her eyes. Composing herself, she searched the barred gate, which stood beside yet another locked door. No way of prying that open, she thought ruefully. She noticed a small opening in the bars.

“Can’t fit through those anymore,” she commented to Lee, grinning.

“Nope.” He chuckled.

“I could,” AJ offered, raising his hand as if he were in class.

“Hmm, too risky,” Lee said, looking back at the couple. “The keys are a much safer bet.”

“I agree,” Clem said, nodding. “No need to risk your life, buddy.”

She stepped up and produced a hunting knife from her back pocket. She stood behind the walkers and disposed of them, muttering, “Sorry,” as she did. When the job was done, Lee reached over and grabbed the keys off the male walker’s belt loops.

The room attached to the locked door was even smaller than the first. There were empty shelves directly in front of the door, dust covering most of their surface. A lumpy mattress stood in the middle of the room, the covers strewn all over the place. On the other side, a wooden crib stood in a corner.

Clem approached it slowly, her knife shaking in her hand. It was empty, yet that was somehow worse. If her imagination was to be believed, she couldn’t really blame the couple…

“Can we stay here?” AJ asked Clem and Lee, who shared a look. “No one’s here… no one’s ever anywhere. It’s always just monsters.”

“Not a lot of people left, kiddo,” Lee pointed out, crossing his arms.

“That’s sad,” he said. “How many did there use to be?”

“About six billion people,” Lee said, grinning.

“How many is that?”

“A whole lot,” said Clem, “So many.”

Frowning, AJ looked around the room. He seemed to have spotted something, for he ran to the other side of the room by the barred window. She turned to see AJ taking two bullets from the counter, examining them and loading them onto his trusty revolver. By her count, they had been out of ammo for about a week.

“Just a few,” he said out loud.

“Remember what we said?” Clem said, kneeling beside the boy. Lee watched from the sidelines, his arms crossed. “You know this. Always…”

“Always keep the last bullet for myself,” AJ muttered.

“That’s right.” She hated having to remind him of that, yet it was necessary. She never knew when would be the last time she reviewed the rules with him.

“C’mon, let’s keep looking,” Lee suggested. “These people can’t have survived without some food.”

And so they searched, coming up empty-handed. They scoured the room, upturning what little furniture the couple had had. At last, Lee almost cried out in glee, yet he grunted in distaste almost immediately.

“Damn, they’re rotten,” Lee said behind her and she turned. He was holding a moldy-looking jar of beans, fungus growing on the top.

“Fuck,” AJ exclaimed, crossing his arms.

“C’mon, AJ,” Lee said, frowning. “What did I say about swearing?”

“You let Clem swear,” AJ complained, his eyes traveling from Lee to the girl he considered his sister.

Lee looked over his shoulder and to Clem, who shrugged. “That’s because she’s older,” he reasoned, looking back at AJ. “Kids aren’t supposed to swear.”

“I guess…” AJ said dejectedly. Lee dropped the jar on the floor and it rolled over to the bed. “Hey, look!” AJ exclaimed, pointing at the jar.

Beneath it was what looked to be the corner of a trapdoor, hidden below the mattress. Both Clem and Lee kneeled to move it, exposing a wooden door in the floor, its handle rusted from weeks – years, probably – of disrepair. Quickly, Lee leaned in and opened the trapdoor, which cracked softly as something clicked nearby.

Inside a sizeable hole in the ground, dozens of jars, bags, and small containers filled with food were neatly stacked onto one another. Dust didn’t seem to have reached this part of the shack yet, as they were mostly in pristine conditions.

“Oh my god,” Lee said under his breath, his eyes wide. “Jackpot.”

“We could eat for weeks with this stuff,” Clem said, smiling.

Their elation, however, was short-lived. Barely two seconds later, they spotted a small green orb rolling its way from a hiding spot into the middle of the hole. Both Clem and Lee yelled,

“It’s rigged!”

Lee jumped to the side and took AJ and Clem in his arms, landing on the ground with a thud before the grenade went off. A resounding bang filled their ears, ringing softly. Dust particles covered them from head to toe as the threesome got up, coughing.

“You guys okay?” Lee managed to say, examining Clem’s bleeding forehead. Luckily, they were otherwise unscathed.

“We’re fine,” Clem assured him. “We need to get out of here.”

As if on cue, the sounds of walkers erupted all around them, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. They scrambled to their feet and rushed to the door, swinging it open. Lee led the way, Clem and AJ right on his heels. Walkers had started to trickle in, three of which had found their way into the narrow hallway between the two train cars.

“Here!” Clem exclaimed, throwing the crowbar to Lee, who caught it with one hand.

As they ran, Lee disposed of the walkers with ease, swinging back and forth and cracking their skulls. By the time they got to the end and past the fences, at least two dozen walkers had rounded on them from different directions, surrounding the car and the road around them.

Clem rushed to the driver’s side and got in, slamming the door behind her. Lee sat on the front and AJ jumped in the back. More of them had surrounded them, two walkers banging on the windows. The one banging on Clementine’s side managed to smash the glass. Its hand reached into the car, grabbing Clem’s face.

“Clementine!” AJ yelled as Lee reached for his knife and plunged it deep into the walker’s face, killing it. Clem pushed the body off her and shakily turned the car keys. The engine revved as it sparked to life.

“Go!” Lee urged.

She followed the steps he had taught her, removing the brake and putting it in reverse, and then her feet did the rest. With some effort, the car backed up until they skidded to a halt. They had hit a pair of walkers that had made a beeline for the back of the car.

She had barely switched gears when another walker broke through Lee’s window and took hold of his right wrist, holding it in a death grip. He punched the walker in the face, cracked its nose several times until its grip gave way. When he was free, Clementine pressed hard on the accelerator.

They seemed to be out of the woods, yet as fate would have it, they were never that lucky. They had moved a mere twenty feet when three walkers seemed to materialize to their right, launching themselves in front of the car. Clementine swerved to the left, trying to avoid the crash. She drove off the side of the road and into a large ditch, which flipped their car on its head. They landed with a crash, their seatbelts saving them from expulsion from the car.

The world spun around as Clementine made a herculean effort to remove her seatbelt. She landed with a thud on the roof of the car, her vision blurry. She looked around. Outside the back window, she spotted AJ crawling out of the car, a large cut on his left cheek. Lee struggled against a walker that had followed them to the ditch.

As AJ collapsed on the ground outside, Clem reached for him. Her body was numb. She made an effort to remain conscious, but the darkness seemed to be tugging at her. She fought it for as long as she could, long enough to see two pairs of legs rushing to the side of the car. One of the newcomers picked AJ up.

“No,” Clem gasped. The air had been knocked out of her lungs. She could barely breathe. “Don’t take him…” was the last thing she could say before darkness consumed her.

She awoke in a dingy room, lying on a rather comfortable bed. As her eyes adjusted to the new lighting, she looked around. She was in what looked to be a dorm room, possibly in a school. A bunk bed stood opposite the one she was on. To its right, there was a desk and a chair, both clean of debris. Her head was pounding from the pain, but when she tried to get up, something impeded it.

Her left hand was tied to the bedpost with duct tape. Frowning, she removed the tape and sat up on the bed. Her hat was on the bedside table. When she put it on, she noticed she was wearing a bandage around her head.

“Must have been in rough shape,” she muttered to herself. “What is this place?”

She tried the door, but it was locked. Figures. She looked around the room, searching for something to help her dire situation. The afternoon sun shone through the boarded-up window, casting shadows on the hardwood floor.

She opened the closet beside the desk and spotted a small toolbox on a top shelf. Using the chair, she reached for it and searched inside. It was mostly filled with colored pencils and art supplies.

“Got it,” she said, producing from the box a palette knife.

Jimmying the door was easy. She wasn’t prepared for what greeted her, however. The hallway beyond the door was empty, its walls covered in scribbles from who she assumed were the students that lived here. Outside, someone was yelling at the top of their lungs, small voices trailing after it. She strained her ears and realized it wasn’t just anyone yelling.

“AJ!” she exclaimed, breaking into a run through the halls, searching for an exit.

She found one fairly quickly, bursting through the double doors into a courtyard. It was circular, with about four tables littering most of it and a flagpole in the middle of it, sporting a crude hand-made flag.

“Where is he?” AJ was yelling, aiming his gun at a boy with bright blond hair stylized into a mullet. Two other kids stood by the blond boy, whom Clem assumed was their leader. They pleaded with AJ, their hands raised.

“AJ!” she yelled over his voice, cutting him off. “What’s going on?”

“Clem!” the boy said, lowering the gun and rushing to her. He wrapped his arms around her legs, and she hugged him back. “You’re okay.”

She kneeled to his side and examined him closely. Other than a small cut on his cheek, probably from the crash, he seemed unscathed. “No bites?”

“No bites.”

“What the hell is going on?” she heard the blond boy say in a commanding voice. He wore a school jacket with a big R embroided to its breast, jeans and comfortable-looking boots. Tied to his back was a compound bow, two arrows attached to its side.

She turned to him, her hands at her hips.

“Why don’t you tell me?” she said. “Why was AJ pointing a gun at you?”

“How should we know?” the boy said, shrugging. “He kept yammering on about a man and then he pulled that shit out.”

“A man?”

“Lee!” AJ said angrily. “They won’t tell me where Lee is.”

“What?” Clem said, fear creeping up her spine. Turning to the group of teenagers, her glare focused on the leader. “There was a man with us in that car. Tall, short hair, black. Wears a blue shirt.”

“He was with you guys?” the leader said, frowning.

“Of course, you dumbass,” Clem exclaimed, controlling the urge to roll her eyes. ��He was in the same car as us.”

“We thought he was kidnapping you guys or something.”

“So what did you do to him?” she asked, venom in her voice.

The leader shifted uncomfortably on the balls of his feet, shooting a quick glance at another boy with dreads and an overlarge trench coat. He seemed to be weighing his words, yet the ones that came out were most definitely not to Clem’s liking.

“We, uh, left him there.”

“YOU WHAT?” Clem exploded, taking two commanding strides forward until she was inches from the boy. “You left my dad in a wrecked car surrounded by a dozen walkers?”

“He’s your dad…? Oh, we didn’t…” the boy stammered, his expression faltering.

In reality, Lee wasn’t her father, nor was he AJ’s, but she had come to see him as a father figure over their eight years together. After all, she had spent nearly as much of her life with Lee as with her real parents. She’d been through thick and thin with Lee, and the thought of him succumbing to such a gruesome death was too much to bear.

“Where’s my stuff?” she said coldly, looking the boy straight in the eye.

“Back in the admin building,” he said, jabbing a thumb behind him. “You’re not going to get him, right?”

“Like hell, I’m not,” she exclaimed, rushing past him and into the building. Luckily for her, her backpack was a short way from the door, leaning against an empty trophy cabinet. She threw it over her shoulder and walked back outside, where AJ seemed to have taken the hint and was getting ready by the gate as well.

“You’re going alone?” one of the boys asked. She looked at him. It was the guy with dreads and the trench coat. His expression was one of compassion, yet Clem’s rage was too hot to pay him much attention. With a simple, “yes,” she dismissed him.

She strode over to AJ, nodding to him like she and Lee always did before doing something dangerous, as if to say, “I’ll have your back and you’ll have mine.” Before they could venture out the gates, a hand gripped her wrist, locking her in place.

“Let me go,” she cursed, pulling hard. It was the third boy, with short brown hair and the beginnings of a beard on his chin.

“We’ll go with you,” he said, nodding. “Louis and I will take you there. You guys have no idea where the station is from here, right? We do.”

“I… no, I guess not,” she conceded, slumping her shoulders as his grip loosened.

“Don’t worry,” the boy named Louis said, taking hold of his coat flaps in what he must have assumed was a comical sight. “We’ll help you get your dad back, it’s the least we can do.”

“You guys can’t be serious,” the leader said, his expression shifting from defiance to something Clem could only attribute to fear. “That’s way outside the safe zone. We got lucky once, we won’t –”

“Marlon, just shut up,” the boy with the patchy beard said, rolling his eyes and taking a bow from a rack attached to the makeshift watchtower. “We left him there, we can’t leave him.”

“He’s an adult!” Marlon said as if that settled the matter. “We can’t trust him, Aasim.”

“He may be an adult, but she clearly cares about him,” Aasim argued. “We should at least try.”

“I… I don’t…” Marlon stammered, searching for words of defiance that wouldn’t come. “Ugh, alright, but be quick, and be safe. We can’t afford to lose more people.”

“Don’t worry, safe is my middle name,” Louis quipped, grinning at the boy. “Actually, it’s Jacob, but safe sounds much better under the circumstances.”

Clem was getting tired of this pointless banter. For all she knew, Lee was fighting for his life as they spoke, and she was not waiting another second.

“Okay, are we leaving or not?” she asked impatiently, with one foot out the gate.

“Sure thing,” Aasim said, nodding. He walked past her and motioned for Louis, Clem, and AJ to follow.

“Lead the way, I guess,” Clem said, fear replacing impatience. What if they were too late already? No, Clementine, stop it. She had to hope against hope that Lee could hold out.

“We’re coming, Lee,” she whispered to herself, closing her eyes.

#twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg telltale #twdg season 4 #twdg aj #twdg lee #twdg aasim #twdg marlon #twdg final season #fanfic #fanfiction #au #louisentine #clouis #louis

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lovemesomerafael · 4 years

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Destroying The Planet To Save It Chapter 15: No Shit, Kermit

Chapters 1-10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Read It On AO3

Tony had been pretty peeved when he got to Banner’s lab the night before and realized that neither Banner nor Mulready were there. Damn it, he’d slept for almost seven hours on the plane! He never slept for that long! He was good to go for the next three days, and they’d already gone to fucking bed?

So he wasn’t exactly in a good mood when he wandered into the common kitchen shared by the residences. And he was especially unhappy to see that he was the first one there. That meant he had to make the coffee. God knew, Tony had made his share of coffee, but he vastly preferred that it already be waiting for him when he wanted it.

He was standing, cursing the fact that even a postmillennial coffee maker still fucking drips, when Sam and Anita came dancing into the kitchen. Literally dancing. Tony, seeing their glowing faces and hormone-soaked smiles, snarled. Literally snarled. He made a mental note to call Pepper in Washington - if his coffee cup ever finished filling – and demand that she come home immediately. In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that Pepper usually just called his demands cute and did whatever she was going to do anyway, but he very pointedly did not pay attention to that thought.

“Good morning, Tony!” Sam practically sang as he and Anita reached the kitchen. Anita began to take inventory of the available raw materials to make breakfast, while Sam gave Tony a hearty, manly slap on the shoulder.

Tony, in turn, gave Sam the finger, and the dirtiest look he could conjure before caffeine. Sam just laughed, as though Tony hadn’t meant that with every fiber of his being.

At long last, Tony’s cup was full and he slipped it out of the machine and substituted the carafe under the drip. After decades of perfecting that maneuver, he didn’t lose a drop. As he shuffled his bare feet over to the table and sat cuddling his cup in both hands, Sam and Anita began bustling – actually damn bustling – around the kitchen, happily beginning to make breakfast for everyone in between kisses and inappropriate touches. True, Tony was sitting slumped over, blowing into his cup, but he could still see them.

“That’s unsanitary, you assholes,” he growled. Again, they seemed to think he was joking, and laughed merrily. That did it. Tony let go of his coffee cup and pulled his phone from his pocket. Pepper needed to get back before he did something even he couldn’t fix.

The next to arrive in the common area were Steve and Sharon. Together, holding hands, and looking so sweet Tony accidentally typed “Now, dammit!” at the end of his text and hit “send” before he could stop the reflex. Great. Now, on top of everything else, he’d have to find time today to buy Pepper some jewelry.

Tony actually put his hands over his ears to block out the cheerful greetings among the two couples in the kitchen. When they were mercifully over, he reached out and picked up his mug, taking far too big a drink of coffee that was still far too hot. He didn’t care. He actually welcomed the burning. It was at least consistent with his mood.

Steve poured coffee for himself and Sharon and got a gooey thank you for it, even though he didn’t even have to fucking make it himself, the unworthy shit. Did anyone thank Tony for making the coffee? Of course not, Tony seethed. He steeled himself for what he knew was coming. Sure enough, as Steve and Sharon approached the large table, Steve noticed him and wished him a hearty good morning, assaulting him with the smile that had sold a million war bonds. Tony desperately wished he could just fry that earnest look off Steve’s face with a repulsor without even looking up. Since he wasn’t wearing his gauntlets, though, he simply grunted.

“Barbie. Ken.”

He slouched lower in his chair as Steve and Sharon took chairs, sitting as close together as possible, at the other end of the table from Tony. They actually had the nerve to begin whispering and giggling. Whispering and fucking giggling. Tony continued to work on his coffee and wished he’d thought to bring an automatic weapon with him to breakfast. Rogers was bad enough on a normal day. Rogers in love was just not fucking doable before eight a.m.

He drank the last swallow on the way to get his second cup of coffee. He squinted his eyes in order to blur the entirely unnecessary sight of Sam standing behind Anita with his arms around her, humming into her ear while she chopped something and beamed.

That was when Banner and Mulready finally made their appearance. Although they’d had plenty of time to get a good night’s sleep, having already quit work by the ridiculously early hour of ten p.m. when Tony had arrived at his lab, they didn’t look very rested. At least they weren’t cuddling and cooing like everyfuckingbody else this morning, so there was that.

In fact, there was a decidedly weird vibe between them. Because Banner kind of was cuddling and cooing, and Mulready was sort of letting him, except that she kept giving him disgusted looks and muttering things almost as mean as the things Tony was thinking. But that was weird, too, because there was no venom whatsoever. Although she really did seem mad. What the… Tony gave up. Whatever was going on with them, he didn’t give a shit. He needed them to focus.

“Where the hell have you been?” Tony growled by way of greeting.

Bruce blinked. “Uh… right here?”

“I got back early, and you had already gone to bed.”

Tony had no idea why that made Mulready roll her eyes and make a growling noise low down in her throat. Weirder still, despite her apparent mood, she was nonetheless starting to brew some of that horrible tea that only Banner drank.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” Banner said. “We’ve got a lot to go over.”

“Yeah, no shit, Kermit. We coulda made a big dent last night. Those are hours we’re not gettin’ back.”

“Tell me about it,” Catherine muttered grouchily, which inexplicably caused Bruce to grin and – was that a blush? What the hell was that about?

Tony frowned, shook his head, and took his second cup of coffee back to his seat at the table where Cap and Sharon quickly and obviously moved away from one another. Tony swore under his breath.

A few moments later, he wished he’d saved that curse, because Clint and Natasha ambled into the room. They weren’t holding hands, didn’t have their arms around each other, and weren’t being disgustingly saccharine with one another. They weren’t even talking to each other, and they both got their own coffee. And yet, everything about them said that they’d spent the night together. Everything. From Clint’s perma-grin and frequent self-satisfied sighs to the fact that Natasha actually said good morning to everyone, they might as well have been wearing T-shirts that said, “We just finished fucking and we’ll be doing it again as soon as possible.”

The only good news, other than the fact that Tony’s caffeine finally seemed to be kicking in, was that Barnes strolled in looking like he wanted to stab something. Finally, someone in a reasonably bad mood. He looked so miserable, Tony was almost glad to see him. Best of all, he barely grunted in response to all the indecently sunny greetings aimed at him.

Tony barely had time to wonder where his new comrade was before she appeared, wiping her eyes sleepily. Huh. Agent Emerson was undeniably smoking hot, but dang, she looked rough. Better yet, she and Barnes pasted on pained, bogus smiles and mumbled the phoniest chipper greetings he’d ever heard as they passed each other on the way to and from the coffee maker. Tony actually smirked into his mug. At last, the morning was starting to look up.

It took Sam and Anita a bit of time to get everything ready, during which time Tony could sort of watch people wake up. Sam and Anita had obviously been up for a while, and Tony couldn’t really imagine a universe in which either Steve or Sharon would ever not be perky, but everyone else needed some time and legal stimulants, just like he did. Meanwhile, since all of the members of the team currently in the Tower were now in the room, Steve gave the sickening schmaltz a merciful rest and shifted into Captain America mode. A plan for the day began to form.

The scientists’ plan was already set without any need for discussion. They’d be in the lab all day. Clint and Natasha said that they needed some time in the gym, a plan which Steve, Bucky and Sam all immediately endorsed. Although the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and Joss would have liked to join them, all three lived in D.C. and had come to New York with nothing so, for them, an emergency shopping trip was necessary.

The group would meet back here for lunch. Nobody really expected the scientists, especially Tony, to actually make the effort to tear themselves away from their work, but they were invited nonetheless. Almost everybody else would be spending the afternoon in the conference room, trying to make sense of all the information they’d gathered.

The exception was Bucky and Joss. Steve looked down the table at where they were seated stiffly next to one another, being excruciatingly careful not to touch.

“Joss, I’ve been thinking about what you said, about needing to be part of stopping whoever killed President Lattimore. And before we decide what that part is, I’d like to know some more about what you can do. So I have a favor to ask.”

Joss swallowed hard. “I can guess what it is.”

“I won’t force you to do it. But if you’re willing, I think you and Bucky should spend the afternoon testing things out.”

Bucky took that stoically, while the idea seemed to make Joss a little green around the gills. She nodded her agreement, albeit unhappily.

Bruce cocked a curious eyebrow. “What does that mean? Testing what out?”

“She’s never worked with us or S.H.I.E.L.D., so we don’t know what all she can do. She’s Secret Service, so we know she’s plenty capable; I just want to know what her strengths are.”

Tony watched Joss react to that, and knew immediately what he was seeing. It was the same amazement everyone felt when they learned what a cool liar Captain America could be. He didn’t have to wait long to learn what Steve was hiding. Joss took a deep breath, straightened in her chair, and said, “I appreciate your discretion, Steve. Very much. But... I think your whole team should know what I am.”

“What does that mean?” Tony heard himself ask. “What are you?”

“Telekinetic,” Sharon answered loudly, clearly cutting Joss off before she could answer. Tony suspected he knew what she was trying to prevent Joss from calling herself, and he appreciated her for it.

“Wait, what?” Clint cried happily, leaning forward to look past Natasha and Bucky at her. “You’re telekinetic?” His genuine smile made Tony think of a kid who’s just learned what’s for dessert.

“I, um…”

“That is so freakin’ cool! Have you met Wanda yet?”

Natasha’s lips twisted as she put a hand on Clint’s arm in an effort to curb his enthusiasm a little. It was an affectionate, amused exchange they’d all seen a thousand times. Ugh. Tony thought. They’re so sleeping together.

“Anybody have a problem with that?” Steve asked, sounding pre-emptively disappointed in anyone who did.

“I have a problem with that,” Tony groused. “Why does she get to be telekinetic and I have to build damn robots to bring me stuff and then put up with them when they do stupid shit?”

“How telekinetic are you?” Sam asked with interest, completely ignoring Tony’s legitimate complaint. “Like, what can you do?”

“I don’t know,” Joss muttered.

“That’s what we’re going to find out this afternoon,” Bucky added. Tony was intrigued to see the protective position he’d taken, with one hand on the back of Joss’s chair, his expression a clear challenge to anyone who wanted to object to Joss’s presence on the team.

No one did, of course. Steve had been right. The few in the room who weren’t wildly abnormal themselves spent most of their time around people who were, and appreciated their gifts. There were a lot of people in the world who hated mutants, but none of them were members of the Avengers team, or worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. And really, in this group, Joss’s abilities were pretty tame.

She smiled shyly and looked around the table, her eyes landing on Bucky last. He was gazing warmly at her, a pleased grin on his handsome face. They nodded slightly to one another, and Joss’s smile widened and reached her eyes.

Whatever was going on with them, Tony thought, it was obvious it wouldn’t be long before breakfast would become simply intolerable.

*****

Lunch was noisy and chaotic and full of laughter. It was also short, because most of the team was anxious to get to the afternoon’s work. Neither Bucky nor Joss was among them, however. They were both anxious as they headed for the stairs down to the floor where the training and workout facilities were.

Bucky was eager and interested to see what Joss could do. He’d actually have been running down the steps if it wasn’t for whatever had happened between them the night before. He still didn’t understand it, but he was starting to have a suspicion. And he hoped like hell he was wrong. He wished he could just let it go, count dating Joss as something that just wasn’t meant to be. But he hadn’t been able to get his mind off her since the minute they’d met, and everything she’d said or done since then had only increased his fascination with her. He hadn’t been this gone over a girl since Nancy Pomeroy. In 1938.

Damn. That wasn’t exactly good news. Bucky wasn’t crazy about the idea of a one-sided crush. And after everything he’d been through with Hydra, he really didn’t like the idea of anything in his life over which he didn’t have a say. Sure, if she’d liked him back, he’d have been perfectly happy to be helplessly smitten. But she apparently thought he was a bum, and if he was right about the reason, then he’d rather never have met her at all.

The bottom line was, he needed to know what he’d done wrong, which meant he had to ask. And that was definitely at the top of his “reasons I’d really rather be fighting a homicidal squid from another dimension right now” list.

He held the door open for her and followed her into the huge, open space Steve had designed for training and sparring. She stepped in and looked around, then turned to him with an inquiring look, waiting for him to tell her how he wanted to begin. Instead, he stood where he was, a few steps inside the door, running his fingers through his hair and looking nervous.

“Look, I know you don’t want to do this. You don’t want to use your ability at all. And if you decide you’re willing to try to develop it, if I’m gonna help you with that, you’re gonna need to trust me. So I need to ask… Are we OK?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately, sounding surprisingly certain, and actually a little relieved that he’d broken the ice, although they were still both looking intently at the padded floor in front of their own feet. “We’re good, Bucky. Except that I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I ran out on you last night.”

“Was it because I kissed you?”

“No. I wanted to kiss you, it wasn’t that.”

“Then…?”

When she spoke, the certainty had left her voice as quickly as it had come. Bucky didn’t like the suddenly despondent note that replaced it, as if her true mood had only been hidden under the thinnest of veneers. “I just…” She said softly. “I sometimes forget that you are who you are.”

He nodded slowly. “Are you afraid of me?” He asked in a wooden voice.

“Am I…? No! Of course I’m not- Hell no!” Joss was sputtering in her surprise that he could even think that, combined with her eagerness to squash an idea that was so clearly painful to him.

“You’d be justified. I mean-“

“Bucky, I’m not afraid of you. Yes, I know about the Winter Soldier. I know what happened to you. But I’ve been to the Smithsonian, OK, and having met you now, that’s the guy I see when I look at you. Everything I know about you from the moment you broke free says that’s the guy you are. The Winter Soldier is something Hydra created. It was never you.”

Bucky just stared at the floor for a moment.

“I’m right about that, aren’t I,” Joss said. She wasn’t asking.

“Yeah. That’s right.”

When he didn’t say more, she said, in that quiet, sad tone, “There’s no part of me that thinks you’re dangerous to me physically. But I... Look, I’m not gonna pretend I’m not attracted to you. In other circumstances, I’d be head over heels right now. But this,” she gloomily indicated their surroundings, “is all pretty far above my pay grade. We’re different kinds of people. I’m not… I’m…” She threw up her hands, at a loss to describe her absolute commonness.

He looked up sharply. “If you’re gonna call yourself inconsequential again, I’m gonna have to call bullshit.”

“I just don’t see how this works. I only see me getting hurt. Or worse.”

Joss didn’t understand the expression that took over Bucky’s expressive face. If she had to guess, it looked like anger. She rushed to try to take her words back, stepping toward him and looking anxiously up into his eyes.

“No, I don’t mean that I think you’d intentionally... It’s just that you’re famous, and extraordinary, you’re this big hero who saves the world on the regular, and-“

“Are you saying you don’t want to get involved with me because of the Avengers stuff?”

“Well… yeah,” she said, like it should be obvious. “I mean, the danger part is bad enough, but I could handle that. It’s all the rest of it. You go to Starbucks and your picture’s in magazines. Last week, you were on BuzzFeed’s “hottest hunks” list. Right this minute, there’s a crowd of women in front of this building who -“

“Stop it.” The severity in his voice silenced her immediately. “I get it now. Nevermind.”

He turned from her and stalked to the other side of the large, open room, where the wall was lined with storage for all manner of equipment. For several minutes, he busied himself with taking out a few balls of different sizes and weights, from a wiffle baseball to a thirty-pound medicine ball, and tossing them toward the center of the floor. He added some hand weights, from two pounds up to one that made even Bucky’s arm muscles ripple nicely under his T-shirt when he lifted it. Then he opened the door to what Joss saw was a storage room filled with a variety of training dummies. He thought for a moment, then selected one that was man-sized and shaped, made of some rubbery material that appeared to weigh about as much as a normal man, and mounted on a stand.

She stood behind him, toward the center of the room, chewing her lip in self-conscious discomfort. For ten minutes or more, as he selected and positioned the equipment he wanted, Bucky studiously ignored her, and she could see from his expression and the abruptness of his movements that his anger didn’t dissipate during that time. In fact, he appeared to be nursing it, scowling and huffing from time to time as though whatever he was thinking was just making him madder.

Bucky angry was something to behold. As upset as she was at having said whatever the hell it was that had him that pissed off, she was also entranced. He was magnificent. His beautiful eyes, even though narrowed, had a fire that was hard to look away from. His ludicrously chiseled jaw looked almost sharp as he clenched it. Once again, Joss felt her body reacting to him doing something simple, something he hadn’t even intended to be sexy. She flashed back to her intense reaction to just hearing him say her name for the first time. She was grateful she wasn’t sitting right next to him this time, because although it wouldn’t be obvious how wet she was, she couldn’t hide the way she was breathing. She pulled at her warm-up jacket, trying to be cool as she made sure he couldn’t see how hard her nipples were.

“All right,” Bucky said stiffly, turning to her and motioning her forward. He’d arranged the balls and weights in a rough line, from smallest and lightest to largest and heaviest. The practice dummy was about ten feet away.

“Wha-“ Joss cleared her throat as her voice broke. “What do you want me to do?”

She saw him notice that, then give an almost invisible shake of his head. “You said you didn’t know how much weight you could lift. Let’s start there. Just work your way through these, pick stuff up. See how it feels.”

Not surprisingly, given what she’d shown him before, she could easily pick up the first few items. She lifted them, then moved them around in the air a little, and set them back down. Once she worked her way to a ten-pound hand weight, she was in new territory. She had told the truth when she said that she never used her ability. She’d lifted a few household items when, at thirteen, she’d discovered she could. But it had frightened her so badly she’d only ever done it a few times after that, just to see if she still could, hoping the ability would have gone away. In fact, when she’d lifted a glass of water to show Bucky her ability, it was the first time she’d done that in several years.

She lifted the ten-pound weight, moving it a few feet left and right, back and forth. “Huh,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s just, that’s the heaviest thing I’ve ever picked up, and I can sort of… feel it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Umm… It’s a lot like just picking things up with my hands. The light stuff, I don’t even really feel it as a weight, you know? But this… I can feel myself lifting it. Not anywhere in particular, I can just feel that I’m using energy. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does. Let’s do something heavy. Try the medicine ball.”

She set the weight back down and turned to the medicine ball. As it rose from the floor, she said, “Oof. Heavier than it looks.”

“OK,” Bucky said, a thoughtful look on his face as she moved the large leather-covered ball the same way she’d done the other objects. “Do the biggest weight. That’s fifty pounds.”

Joss set down the medicine ball, and he could see in some indefinable way that she was straining a little. She took a breath and looked at the largest hand weight. It rose more slowly from the floor than the medicine ball had, and hung just a bit crookedly, about three feet in the air. She went to move it to the side, and suddenly it crashed to the floor, thumping dully on the rubber matting.

She yipped a little, letting out a surprised laugh.

“You OK?” Bucky asked quickly.

“Yeah. That was weird.”

“Weird how?”

“It was… Let me see.” She went over to the weight, a solid bar with fat, hexagonal weights permanently attached on each end, and bent to lift it. Although she could lift it from the floor, and move it around, the effort it took was obvious.

“Yeah,” she said, setting it back down and looking at Bucky. “How much weight do you think I could lift, just picking it up from the ground? Maybe a hundred pounds?”

“I’ll be impressed if you can deadlift a hundred pounds. But I see where you’re going. You think you can lift the same weight telepathically that you can physically.”

“Exactly.”

“C’mon. Let’s see.”

Neither of them noticed that, as they became more interested in their experiments and curious about the results, they’d forgotten to be uncomfortable.

“How much can Wanda lift?” Joss asked as they crossed the room to where two sets of free weights were arranged with the benches side by side, about ten feet apart.

“Wanda throws trucks,” Bucky grinned.

“Jeez. No wonder you guys aren’t freaked out by me.”

Bucky made short work of clipping plates onto a bar, while Joss admired the way the muscles of his right arm flexed, and the plates of his left arm moved, as he did.

“Let’s start with seventy, OK? I guess you won’t pull a muscle lifting too much, but there might be a psychic equivalent.” He gave her a crooked grin, combined with a slight shrug, which she returned.

“Yeah, let’s not sprain my mind.”

He stepped back and watched as she looked at the barbell with a perplexed expression. “Not quite sure how to get hold of it. I guess I just…”

The barbell shuddered for a few seconds, then rose several inches. Joss’s expression looked to Bucky like the exact expression she’d be wearing if she was physically lifting the weight. Her breathing increased, too.

“I can’t really… move it around too much…”

“Put it down,” he said, reaching toward her as if he was spotting her physically lifting the weight. The barbell thudded heavily back to the floor, and Joss looked up at Bucky.

“I think we’re right. I think I can only lift as much weight as I could physically. No throwing trucks for me, I guess.”

“We got Wanda for that, and Scott and the Hulk,” he assured her. “Your advantage is you can be stealthy about it. I’m also wondering whether you could build up your strength, like you could physically.”

“Makes sense.”

“All right, let’s go back over there. I wanna try something.” Bucky led the way across the room to the assortment of balls and weights, and picked up a five-pound hand weight. Turning to Joss, he held it lightly in his right hand. “Can you take this out of my hand?”

She did.

“Huh. OK. Now I’m gonna fight you for it a little. You try to get it away from me. Let’s see if we can figure out about how hard you can pull.”

“You want me to straight-up pull, or do you want me to twist, or do whatever I can to get it away?”

Bucky smiled approvingly. “That’s where we’re going next. Right now, just pull.”

He thought the little wrinkles between her eyebrows were cute as she tried to pry the weight from his hand, and they both ended up grinning as they wrestled for the weight. She began to shuffle her feet slightly, and reach her forearms out, making grasping motions with her hands.

“What?” He asked as they continued to work against each other.

“I want to grab the weight and put my foot on you, push against you. Like I would if I was doing this physically.”

“Huh. Yeah, I can see that. I think we’re getting close to the break-even point, though, and I’m still holding pretty tight.”

At that moment, the weight pulled out of Bucky’s hand and Joss stumbled backward a few steps, exactly as she would have done had she had it in her hands. It fell to the floor between them.

“OK, that’s good to know. That’s gonna give you away unless you’re prepared for it.”

Next, they practiced Joss pulling and twisting, using whatever motion she could to get the weight from Bucky’s hand. It didn’t occur to either of them to think he might look odd, holding a handweight that appeared to be trying to escape his grasp. They struggled for a while, Joss appearing to be working fairly hard, while Bucky didn’t appear to even be trying. It was a little distracting for her, since it was both infuriating and hot as hell. But it gave her an idea.

Suddenly, the weight flew from Bucky’s hand again, falling to the floor while Joss rocked a little on her feet but didn’t take a step backward this time.

“Hey!” He cried, laughing.

“Ha! Strength is no match for treachery!”

She’d surprised him by ceasing to pull the weight away from him and pushing it toward him instead, which slid it right between his fingertips and his palm because he was focusing his strength on an outward, rather than inward, force. His smile lighted the whole room. Joss found herself a little breathless, which had nothing to do with the tug-of-war they’d just been having.

“Nice move! I gotta see what you can do with a weapon. But first, let’s look at pushing and throwing.”

For the next two hours, Bucky had Joss tossing balls at the practice dummy, which was as amusing for him as it was frustrating for her. Her aim was terrible. She seemed to be most accurate with midweight objects, but even then, it wasn’t pretty. Out of the necessity to save her pride, she’d used her arm to throw several balls at the dummy, just to show Bucky she could hit it. But for whatever reason, throwing things with her mind was going to take practice.

At one point, Bucky got a thoughtful look on his face, and said, “You’re looking at whatever you’re moving. Do you have to be able to see it? Could you-“

Before he finished his sentence, a softball to Joss’s left and slightly behind her flew toward the dummy. It missed, but it proved the point. “I knew where that ball was, though. I think I have to know where something is to pick it up? Something like that.”

“OK, let’s try. Don’t turn around. That medicine ball is behind you. Do you remember where?”

“No, we haven’t used it in a while.”

“Good. Pick it up.”

Nothing happened. “I can’t find it,” Joss said.

“OK, still don’t look, but let’s see if this works. It’s about six feet behind you, at your four. Got it?”

She squinted for a moment, while nothing happened. But after several seconds, the medicine ball lifted from the ground and sailed a few feet through the air before landing heavily. Bucky and Joss shared fascinated looks.

“Cool,” he said. “Let’s try something else. Just stay there and don’t look.”

Joss’s back was to the storage wall. She heard Bucky’s light footfalls and then the sound of him opening a cabinet, then closing it. His footsteps got a little louder and stopped before he called, “OK, I put something on the floor, ten feet behind you at your six. Can you find it?”

Joss could never have explained what she was doing. In large part, it involved imagining the room behind her and something on the floor. But there was an entirely foreign component to it that she could only describe as “feeling” for whatever was on the floor. She was surprised when she found it. She brought it to her, hearing Bucky’s excited, “Yes!” when she did. It turned out to be a rubber weapon, nonspecific, but something like an AR-15.

Holding it in her hands, she turned around just in time to see Bucky approaching, a few steps from her and grinning with mischievous glee. Without thinking, she stepped toward him and, letting the weapon go with one hand, reached for him as he reached for her. He lifted her off her feet for just a second, then set her down and let her go, backing off a step so they could see each other, laughing and smiling.

It took a moment for Bucky to remember that, however Joss was looking at him right now, she didn’t have a very high opinion of him. It hurt. He was resigned to the fact that most people would always think of him as a murderous animal who should be, at the very least, in prison. Although Pepper and her publicity staff tried to keep the hate mail from all the Avengers, he ran across the venom anyway, online. He would almost have preferred that Joss think of him as a mindless, vicious monster than as some kind of Gary Cooper, trying to seduce every woman he met. OK, yeah, maybe Bucky had been an operator back before the war, but even then he treated women right. Mostly he’d just been out for a good time, and he made sure he never pretended anything he didn’t feel. The way Joss acted, she thought he was making time with every girl who asked to take a selfie with him.

And what about that, anyway? Did she think he liked that stuff? Being fucking famous, like there was anything remotely good about it? Did she think he agreed to be in those magazine pictures? Why’d she think they were all of him getting coffee, or just walking down the street, minding his own business? The only pictures he ever posed for were the ones he absolutely couldn’t get out of. The ones Steve made an order. And Steve kept that to an absolute minimum.

In fact, a few of the people who spewed online hate at him were paparazzi who had reason to. When one of them had the misfortune of getting caught stalking him, taking his picture, that photographer tended to meet the Winter Soldier. Just because Bucky’s mind was clean now, didn’t mean he didn’t remember how to make grown men cry with his facial expression alone. A few whispered words about how easily Bucky could find them, and what would happen if they made him do it, tended to result in unpublished photos and the need for a change of underwear. It didn’t happen much, but it happened, and the threat tended to stick.

It was true that he kind of liked the perks of the job. Private air travel? He was all over that shit. But it wasn’t like the Avengers could find out about a threat and then take the time to book a commercial flight to East Bumfuck and wait for their weapons to roll by on one of those fucking carousels. And yeah, it was nice to have a private place to work out, train, and spar, with all the equipment they requested supplied without question. The security? That was no luxury. It was every bit as much of a prison as the one Hydra had kept him in. He tolerated it because it was an absolute necessity to protect the Avengers from not only those who hated them, but those who thought they loved them.

None of that made him whatever she thought he was. He was still Bucky Barnes, poor kid from Brooklyn who had been drafted into the Army and been through some heavy shit. He was Sergeant James Barnes, too, who had the honor of serving with a man who was worth every one of the million sacrifices he’d made for him, every moment of danger he’d endured with and for him. And who also happened to be the best friend a guy could ever have. He’d been the Winter Soldier, endured all of that agony and now lived every moment with the full weight of that enormous guilt. If she thought he had the time or inclination for celebrity playboy bullshit, after everything he’d been through, she was seeing someone else when she looked at him.

Joss watched the light in Bucky’s face flicker and then fade, and a cold, impassive mask descend. She recoiled as though he’d slapped her.

Trying to cover her sudden self-conscious embarrassment, and ignore her confusion and hurt, Joss stammered, “I... Um... What next?”

Bucky pointed to the rubber weapon she held. “Hold that on me,” he ordered coolly. “I wanna show you something.”

#Tony Stark #The Avengers #Captain America #The Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Sharon Carter #Sam Wilson #Natasha Romanoff #Clint Barton

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an-oger-in-the-wild · 4 years

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Children Shouldn’t Play with Undead Things

So here’s a fun little team-building exercise I threw at three of my PCs who met a couple in-game days before the official start of the campaign / meeting of the rest of the PCs. The summary? Three unlikely people meet on a coastal beach and end up hanging out in a coastal town’s tavern, chatting the night away, until they - along with the other patrons of the tavern - start getting attacked by an unknown and unseen source: a poltergeist. The three PCs in question consisted of an aasimar warlock, a half-orc cleric, and a wood-elf druid, so some really cool and interesting social and debuff spells (like Detect Evil and Good, Faerie Fire, and Message to name a few) were available for use that didn’t have to be damage-focused, teaching the group early that you don’t necessarily have to only have combat spells equipped in order to overcome obstacles or solve problems.

If you’d like to use this encounter for your 1st, 2nd, or even 3rd level (like my group was) party, you’ll want to be sure to lay a good foundation of visual descriptions - little things that are actually Easter eggs for the party to remember later, realizing that they were actually clues.

QUEST LEAD: This encounter takes place in a small tavern called Bottles & Drafts. You can read this little block of text to introduce your characters to the first NPC in this encounter; or, alternatively, you can use your own tavern or NPC if you already have a place in mind:

You see, as you enter, a pleasantly-lit tavern, complete with a small hearth, two long tables, three smaller round tables, and a neatly-kept bar with stools. Looking around, you notice that the dining area is rather saddlery-themed with things like horseshoes, halters, and old bridles hung on the wall for décor, befitting of the inn’s adjoining stables out back. Near an entryway to a hall at the far end of the room, you see a physically imposing grayish/green-skinned woman - about 6' 1" - with short, chipped tusks protruding from her lips. She wears a brown tank top with olive-colored cotton pants, and her light-brown hair is kept short on top and shaved close on the sides. She's standing on a small ladder, hanging a new item on the wall: a black leather horse whip (or some might call it a crop). She's mounting it to the wall as best she can, but it keeps falling off the wall each time she gets off the ladder, making her visibly frustrated as she repeats the process three times in the time it takes you to find a seat.

This is Jacoba, a half-orc (use stat block of berserker) - she owns the inn, Bottles & Drafts (named thus as your adventurers can both purchase a night’s stay there or take a trip around back to its stables to purchase a mount, such as a draft or riding horse). Today, your party happens to walk in on her hanging a whip...little do they know that this is the item to which the poltergeist has attached itself.

Part 1: a Start to an Exciting Evening

Be sure the party knows they are not the only ones in the tavern! Three other patrons sit in different areas of the inn (each to themselves):

Roberick Zemony, male human (looks visibly intoxicated)

Tawnel Ostoro, male half-elf (dressed in the uniform of the local guards)

Baerla Flaskbraids, female dwarf (has a small rabbit familiar with her)

While the party sits around conversing - probably around a meal or a few drinks - have some strange things happen as the evening approaches:

Random drinks sitting in front of patrons at the bar tip over onto their laps, soaking them.

Patrons go to sit in their chairs...but right before they sit down, the chair is just a little too far from them and they fall to the floor on their asses.

The whip will continue to fall off the wall, usually AT Jacoba as she walks by with a plate of food or a platter filled with drinks.

She will eventually give up on trying to mount it and will make a scene as her barbarian temper gets the better of her: describe her as being close to raging mad over the “stupid whip,” picking it up (perhaps putting the strap in her mouth and gnawing at it for a moment) then violently whipping a vacant spot at the bar with it a few times before throwing the whip down the hallway and heading back behind the bar.

If the party tries to interact with Jacoba or ask her about the whip, she can explain that the décor is a collection of old pieces that have either been found by patrons who frequent the tavern or are left behind after a rental horse or carriage is returned. This most recent piece was actually given to her earlier today by a tradesman who came through for a drink (while nothing more has to come of this mention, you could always develop this out into an extended quest).

With a good enough Charisma check, Jacoba may also tell the party what she knows about the other three patrons left in the tavern if they get inquisitive:

Roberick Zemony, male Human (nightly patron; commoner, middle-aged; "dad bod," thinning hair; lazy-sounding drunken voice)

Tawnel Ostoro, male half-elf guard (off-duty but still in his regalities; just got off his guard duty shift and likes to come up for a quick sip or two before he returns to the barracks for the evening; condescending)

Baerla Flaskbraids, female dwarf (a scout passing through on her way back to her guildhall north of here; just finished clearing out a pesky infestation of stirges and is staying the night before heading back in the morning)

Part 2: It Begins

Once it’s officially evening, the party sees Roberick get up to go to "water the flowers" (at which Jacoba threatens to kill him if he does).

As he stands to leave, the flames in the wall sconces all extinguish at once and the sound of Roberick screaming in pain and then moaning fills the room.

(HE DEAD, Y'ALL.)

Jacoba will quickly try to relight the sconces if no one casts a spell before this is done.

Once there is light, everyone will be able to see Roberick's dead body on the floor, a knife stuck in his chest.

If no one revives him, proceed to Part 3.

If someone casts Revivify or Speak with Dead, he won't know what hit him or killed him.

Part 3: a Murder Mystery

Before Tawnel (the half-elf guard) allows anyone to move, he will swiftly walk over to the door (the only exit) and bar it shut, stating that "no one will be leaving here until I find out who killed this man."

Investigation checks can begin to be made against the dead body (DC: 13).

On a success, they can tell from the angle of impact and the blood splatter that the attack had to have come from the direction of the bar and that the knife had to have been flung at him from a distance.

If investigating for magic, use the same DC for an Arcana check; however, no magical aura is detected around the body or the knife.

If spells like Detect Magic or Detect Evil and Good are cast, assume that the poltergeist will not be within the 30 foot radius in this one instance; after the party has made some good detective work headway though, feel free to reward smart casting by allowing the undead creature to “light up” as it were. Those spells last 10 minutes unless dropped, so you can toy with them by having the poltergeist move in and out of the range of the spell occasionally.

Insight checks can be made against the NPCs for added intrigue if the characters are suspicious or on-edge:

Tawnel (the half-elf guard): this is probably the most exciting thing he's ever seen as a guard of a relatively uninteresting city, so he's hoping that getting to the bottom of this murder will help him climb the ladder of success

Alibi: he's "one of the good guys" and just wants to figure out what happened…he was sitting in the corner reading smut (but he won't want anyone to know that this is what he was reading).

Motive: everyone - including Tawnel - knows Roberick…he's the town drunk and tends to get into trouble when he drinks: Tawnel has arrested him on a couple occasions for indecency in front of children and found him no better than the dirt beneath his boots - Jacoba has heard him say before that “it would be a better world without Roberick in it.”

Baerla (the dwarf scout): has only been seen thus far to be talking to her rabbit...plus she has a longbow on her back and a sword at her side - seems strange enough to draw some attention, right?

Alibi: she knows no one here - why would she kill someone?...she was busy scrolling a message to send with her animal messenger (a rabbit) back to her guildhall to inform them of the completion of her job; her rabbit is "gone now though."

Motive: Roberick was being loud and obnoxious and (per Baerla) was making fun of her height earlier that evening.

Jacoba (the half-orc tavern owner / berserker): normal day, just got a new shipment of food today as well as a few new bridle materials, some new tankards, that kind of thing; a tradesman bartered with her for a new item for her tavern - the whip.

Alibi: she was serving drinks when the lights went out and Roberick dropped dead.

Motive: Roberick was behind on his tab by several months - Tawnel knows that this has really been bothering Jacoba lately.

Part 4: Further Bloodshed

The poltergeist will become enraged by any light-based spells or by radiant damage (clerics and paladins BEWARE!).

It will also get increasingly angry if the whip is in any way touched or damaged. If someone moves within 30 feet of the poltergeist’s area, it will become aggressive and throw things using its Telekinetic Thrust (+4 to hit, 2d4 bludgeoning or piercing damage, depending on the item); if they get reeeeally close, it will use its Forceful Slam attack (+4 to hit, reach 5 feet, 3d6 force damage).

NOTE: If you really want to freak the party out, try throwing them around with its Telekinetic Thrust by rolling a contested Strength (the PC) versus Charisma (the poltergeist) check to see if the undead creature can “hurl the target up to 30 feet in any direction, including upward,” causing 1d6 damage per 10 feet moved - I wouldn’t recommend this unless your group can handle these amounts of damage though - always playtest before playing!

Part 5: Reclaiming Serenity

There are a couple of ways this can go:

If you have a party who loves to get stuff done by way of combat, you can certainly take the most direct route by allowing them to work through the difficulties of waging war with a creature who never turns visible. As mentioned in my opening paragraph, debuff spells like Detect Evil and Good, Faerie Fire, or See Invisibility are great uses of spellcasting while in combat with an invisible creature. Additionally, you may have a party member who thinks outside the box and has the idea to try to destroy the item to which the spirit is attached - this is a great idea! A low-level encounter like this is a nice way to condition your party for battles that cannot simply be won by hacking and slashing.

If you have a party or party member who wants to make the world a better place with a more passive approach, you could delve deeper into the backstory of the poltergeist, giving it a history that shaped it into a malevolent spirit. Use the whip as inspiration: did the whip belong to the spirit in its previous life? Was it sentimental? Does it need returned to someone in order for the spirit to find peace? Alternatively, does the whip have a darker connotation - was it a weapon used against the spirit in its former life? Is the spirit seeking an unattainable revenge on innocent victims? Ponder these things and come up with a flexible and easily improved story in case you have a tenderhearted sorcerer or a righteous paladin with high charisma who want to try to reason with the undead creature. Allow a series of Persuasion checks to convince the poltergeist that they don’t need to act violently or to help the undead creature to pass on into the next life: this can make for a really memorable role-playing moment that will change the normally black and white outlook most parties have on undead creatures.

Thanks for reading, guys! If you like this post and would like to get more encounter idea inspiration like this one, let me know by asking to be included on my Enticing Encounters taglist!

#dnd #dnd encounters #dnd encounter building #encounter of the week #TTRPG #BtFM #Enticing Encounters #undead #poltergeist #this literally took forever because tumblr posts are annoying to format

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ashenious · 5 years

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Lacking Depth - Chapter 2 of 2 (Dante/Reader)

For This Chapter: Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Some Blood, Additional: Some Stitches Word Count: 2483 A/N: @leonkennedyislove mentioned a drought of Dante getting patched up, and I’m happy to help quench that (which then turned into self-indulgence whoops)

AO3 Link: Part 1/Part 2

Part 1/Part 2

It was immediately obvious that you’d need to keep a close eye on Dante, because as you stood outside the hospital waiting for Morrison to come around with the car, you saw Dante try to wander off as you talked with Lady. Turning and catching his arm, you asked him where he was going.

“Home? Where else?” he said, confused as you held onto his jacket.

“We’re waiting for Morrison, remember?” you asked gently pulling him closer to you. Hearing a soft noise from Dante, you grabbed his hand, locking your fingers with his firmly. “Just wait here, okay?” You turned back to Lady, seeing her face full of concern at what just happened. Sighing a little, you picked back up your conversation with her, waiting only a few more minutes until Morrison pulled up.

Seeing the car fully stop, you said your goodbyes with Lady, grabbing the handle to the back seat and flinging the door open.

“You first.” You said, motioning toward Dante. Seeing the man pause for a second, you waited, gently tugging his hand lightly before he stepped toward the car and then slid inside. Following behind, you closed the door firmly, instructing Dante to put on his seat belt before you leant forward toward the front.

“How’re you doing, Dante?” Morrison asked, his eyes looking at Dante before meeting yours through the rearview mirror.

“He’s been better, but he’ll live.” You muttered, glancing at Dante for a second, who was struggling to work his seat belt. Hearing him curse at it, you turned around, guiding his hands to clip the belt into the socket.

“I’m fine, I’ve just got a headache now. I think it’s these stitches fault.” Dante said, leaning back in his seat and bringing his hand up to his forehead. You slapped his hand away, then pointed at his dressings.

“Stop touching it, that’s gonna make it bleed again.” You scolded, sitting down in your seat slowly before buckling yourself in. “Thanks for the ride again, Morrison, we owe you.”

“Oh, this is no problem at all, I’m just glad the city’s been saved.” Morrison said, a light chuckling coming from him. “Traffic’s been pretty bad, and parking here was a nightmare too!” he continued, slowly pulling away from the emergency room and back onto the road.

The ride back home was nothing like the ride to the hospital, it was almost all lighthearted conversation about how little damage the large demon did to the city, relative to its size and how past demons usually destroyed many more buildings and caused more casualties. Morrison spoke of hearing only 1 person being killed, in part to their insistence to using an elevator instead of stairs when the demon was getting closer to their building, probably a record low for casualties in the city.

During the conversation the was mostly between you and Morrison, Dante was contributing very little, his face consistently scrunched as the two of you talked, frustration obvious in his face. Not noticing until near the end of the ride, you wondered what Dante was thinking about, but decided to ask when you had his back inside Devil May Cry.

Feeling the car stop completely, you thanked Morrison again, freeing yourself from your seat beat before climbing out of the car. You turned around, peeking inside to see what Dante was doing when he didn’t get out immediately after you. Seeing his face still contorted a bit, you closed the door, making your way over to the other side and then opening up the door next to Dante.

“Hey, we’re home.” You said softly, motioning for Dante to move toward you as you held onto the door. Seeing him jump a bit, you raised your eyebrow, watching as he fumbled with his seat belt for a second before undoing it and then slowly sliding out. He stretched when he stood up, arms reaching far above his head as he also let out a yawn.

You closed the door, waving to Morrison just before he began to drive off, and then grabbed onto Dante’s jacket when the car was out of sight.

“If the delivery time isn’t too terrible, want to order a pizza?” you suggested, gently tugging Dante toward the store front.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Seeing a wide grin appear on Dante’s face, you smiled a little, opening the door to the store as you lead the man inside.

“I’ll call, you should sit down and take it easy for a while.” Watching as the grin lessened on his face, Dante slowly made his way to his desk, carefully stepping himself up onto the upper wooden floor.

“I can call, that’s barely doing anything.” He said, slowly spinning his desk chair in his hand. As he was about to face it forward to sit in, his hand slipped, causing the chair to tumble to the ground and causing you to jump a bit at the noise. Staring at Dante, you raised an eyebrow at him, seeing the man utterly confused as to what just happened. “I uh….meant to do that?” he meekly said, slowly leaning down to grab his chair again, carefully raising it back up and then sitting in it.

Dante reached over, letting his hand hover over the phone for a second before he picked up the receiver and began to dial. You watched as he called, slowly sitting yourself down at the couch nearby. When he finished talking, you motioned for Dante to come sit next to you, patting the spot on the couch just to your right as he hung up the phone.

“They said it’s going to be a bit of time, but not an eternity.” Dante said as he stood up slowly, hand quickly slamming onto the desk to brace him as soon as he was completely stood up.

“Hey, you good?” you asked, concern hitting you suddenly as you rushed over to him and placed your hands on his sides.

“Yeah, totally good. Think I just stood up too quickly, no big de—” as he spoke, Dante’s voice slowly trailed off and you noticed the colour slowly leaving his face, and quickly you grabbed onto him, knowing very well the weight difference between you and him.

“Chair! Chair!!” you yelled, pushing on Dante and trying to guide him back into his chair as his knees gave out and he began to collapse. Seeing his arm still holding him, you knew that he wasn’t completely unconscious, but that he was getting there quickly. You used your weight to push the man, successfully guiding him into the chair behind him, you yourself stumbling a bit as he landed and so you threw your hand to Dante’s shoulder to catch yourself.

“Hey! You still awake?” you asked, bringing your other hand up to lightly smack Dante’s cheek, noticing colour returning to him, but his head still wobbling a bit, his eyes not focused on anything specific as he sat dazed. You watched as he brought one hand up, his finger lifted to show you he needed a moment. You waited, gently resting your hand on his cheek as you kept your eyes locked on his, waiting to see consciousness come back to him.

“…alright.” He finally said, eyes slowly looking side to side as he grounded himself. “I think…I don’t want to do that again.”

Chuckling a bit, you ran your hand through his hair slowly, releasing hold of his shoulder before you sat back on the desk’s edge.

“I don’t want you to do that either. How about you just stay seated for a while?” you suggested, slowly running your hand through your own hair, and letting out a relieved sigh. “Whatever you need, just ask me to get it, alright?”

“Oh, like a personal servant? I like that idea!” Dante said, a small smirk appearing on his face. You flushed a bit, slowly tapping your hands on the desk as you stared at the man.

“I’d smack you if you didn’t possibly have brain damage right now,” You said, tone flat as you stood up slowly. “I’ll grab you some water,” You announced, slowly making your way to the kitchen.

“What about a coffee? It’ll help keep me awake!”

“One water, coming right up!” hearing a groan from Dante, you pulled out his favourite mug from the high cabinet, filling it with water slowly and then turning to face the doorway to the office area. You waited a few minutes, holding the mug in your hand and looking around the room as you did so. Finally, you walked back into the office, seeing Dante’s face light up at the sight of his mug.

Handing it to him, you saw his face fall and his lips purse at the sight of clear liquid inside, you laughing a bit as he slowly took a sip.

“You need to stay hydrated to get better faster; coffee isn’t going to help you do that, it’s just going to wind you up,” You said, turning yourself from the man and walking to the table near the couch. You shuffled your way through the stack of magazines on it, slowly sliding one out from near the bottom. “Here, you just need to sit and relax right now.”

Handing the book over to Dante as he set down his mug, you watched as he slowly lifted his legs up to his normal place on the desk, getting himself comfortable before he paged through the magazine.

Sitting yourself back down onto the couch, you eyed the stack of magazines on the table, wondering what exactly was in each of them. You had wondered before, but normally you’d have something else to be doing, cleaning the office, paying off debts, something more productive than just keeping an eye on Dante, but there wasn’t much you could do right now with the whole city shut down. And you had just cleaned the office yesterday too, you hadn’t given Dante enough time to destroy your organization yet.

Pulling one from the top of the stack, you flipped it open, skimming the page slowly and finding a nice article about some gun model you had never heard of and deciding that you’d like to learn something new today, you started reading it.

At some point while reading, you had nodded off, completely unaware of when you fell asleep as your ears heard a sudden crash, your head flying forward at the sound and causing you to throw the magazine you had attempted to read onto the floor. Cursing and jumping at the magazine slapping onto the floor as it scared you a second time, you turned your head to Dante’s desk, which was notably lacking a person behind it now.

“Oh, son of a bitch!!” you exclaimed, throwing yourself around the table quickly and running to the desk, almost knocking into its side as your eyes caught sight of something new and red on the lower floor. “Dante, I fucking told you…!” Rushing over, you slid onto your knees next to the man, grabbing a hold of his head gently with your hands. You called out his name, carefully sliding one hand around his neck to check his pulse. Yep, still alive, possibly not for long after you get through with him in a bit.

Grasping onto his jacket, you lifted yourself up to your feet, one leg going over his body so that there was one leg on each side of him, and you then heaved him over, watching him slump onto the ground beneath you. Kneeling down again, you grabbed his face, smacking him lightly on the cheek as you called his name out again.

Watching his eyes slowly open, you breathed out a hard breath, completely unaware that you had been holding your breath for some time. Your eyes went up to his wound, and you cursed as you saw a small amount of blood that was seeping through his gauze. Feeling your face change from concerned to angry, you grabbed onto the lapels of Dante’s jacket, holding him firmly to the floor as you glared at him, waiting for him to be fully aware of what was happening.

Your attention was brought to the front door before Dante could fully realize what was happening, however, by the sound of a knock. Staring in disbelief at the door, you wondered how the delivery person always seemed to show up at the worst possible time. Releasing the lapels of Dante’s jacket, you pointed at him, sternly telling him to stay in place before you stood up and walked to the door. Peeping through the window a bit, you took a deep breath.

“Hey, sorry, put this on the tab, okay, thank you!!” you said loudly as you yanked open the door, quickly reaching for the delivery and pulling it inside before any questions came from the person outside. Slamming the door shut louder than you meant to, you a jumped a bit, before turning around and just about throwing the pizza box onto the table near the door.

“Ya’know, if I weren’t kind of nauseous right now, that’d probably smell great,” you heard, your attention going back to Dante who was still laying on the floor, his eyes now looking up at you.

“I’m sure it would, but no pizza until I change that gauze out and you’re back at your desk,” you said, slowly walking past him to gather things you’d need to change the dressing.

Coming back a few minutes later with supplies, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Dante still laying on the ground, his head turned a bit as he stared longingly at the pizza box. Reaching down and helping him sit up, you instructed Dante to slowly sit against the wall, and as he slid himself to press his back against the nearest wall, you retrieved the pizza box.

“Here, you can at least feed me while I do this,” you said as you knelt down next to the man. He opened the box, the smell completely overtaking the room, and he grabbed a slice. Watching as he started eating, you felt your face furrow. “I thought you were nauseous?”

“Yeah, I was, but this just smells too good!” Dante replied, a small smile on his face as he took another bite. Rolling your eyes, you slowly peeled off the nice dressing the nurse earlier had put on, pausing when the whole wound underneath was revealed.

“…Hey, maybe you should stop eating for a second,” you suggested, slowly bring up a towel to place over Dante’s head. Seeing a confused face on Dante, he asked why as he took another bite, his face scrunching a bit as you laid the towel over his wound. “You’re, uh…you ripped out some stitches love. We need to go back to replace them.”

#devil may cry #dmc #dante #reader #fanfic #text post #dmc fanfic #dante/reader #myfic #my story #read more #blood #whump #second person

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nachtgraves · 6 years

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Andreil Week 2018 - Day 1

Ey. I’ve never participated in a fandom week type deal so I thought this might be fun. I’m not doing all the days, but gonna attempt to do every other instead :D

If you squint, I technically incorporated all three of today’s prompts in some form. As per usual, given a prompt, chances are I’ll stretch it to the point it probably doesn’t count anymore. I can’t read a map and following directions sans detours is hard.

Influenced by Nekojita’s Heartlines and you should read that if you haven’t already. Just read all her work, honestly.

Title: A Midsummer Night’s Fib // AO3 Word Count: 3,620 Warnings/Tags: G. Urban fantasy AU, bastardization of midsummer practices and festivals of past and present, an abnormal amount of glitter and sparkles Prompts: shakespeare | mythology | fake dating/fake exes

Neil doesn’t know why he did it but Nicky wasn’t going to quit and Allison had her phone out with that plotting gleam in her eyes and Dan and Matt were looking at him in certain ways and he just blurt it out: “I’m going with Andrew.”

They all fall silent, staring at him in various forms of shock, disbelief, and overwhelming confusion. Maybe he can make his escape while they process his words.

Nicky recovers before he can give the escape attempt more thought, however. “Andrew? You definitely mean an Andrew that isn’t my cousin, right?”

“Why are you going with the monster?” Allison demands.

“So much makes sense now,” Matt mutters and Neil would like to know what he means by that but, as if summoned, Andrew enters the room. He looks around at the various faces staring back at him before turning around and leaving without a word.

“Andrew, wait!” Nicky is the first to recover, chasing after his cousin before Andrew can get too far. “You’re going to Midsummer? With Neil?!”

Andrew stops in the middle of the doorway and turns back around. His face is blank but he meets Neil’s eyes for a brief moment before answering Nicky, bland and dry, “What I may or may not be doing is none of your business,” and then leaving.

Allison comes up to Neil, looks him up and down then directs her gaze to where Andrew had gone and sighing. “Why? I will never understand why you always go for the monster when there are way better options you could pick from. That woodland druid we ran into grabbing things for Abby a few days ago, for instance. He was so into you and not a psychopath.”

Neil just blinks at Allison. He thinks he knows what druid she’s talking about but that’s about it. Allison just sighs heavily again and shakes her head. “Whatever. I guess I should commend you for getting Andrew to come to Midsummer for the first time in forever.”

Neil frowns. “He’s never gone?”

Dan answers him. “Andrew’s not really big on the quarter day festivals, really any sort of festival, in case you hadn’t noticed. And he’s not Fae so he’d need to be taken as a guest, not that he’s ever accepted anyone’s offer for as long as he’s been here.”

Neil himself isn’t quite up to date on what Fae festival and celebration etiquette is. Between Baltimore and being on the run, Fae celebrations were never something he partook in. For most of his life, his mother’s Fae heritage was beaten down and he recoiled against his father’s warlock practices.

He doesn’t get a chance to think on his past for too long. Nicky, having lost Andrew, comes bounding towards Neil with a broad grin that has Neil worried.

“Since you’ve got yourself a date, that’s part one done,” he starts. Neil really doesn’t want to hear part two, or if there’s a part three and four to follow. But Nicky barrels on, his eyes doing that sparkly thing it does when he’s excited about Erik or shopping or matchmaking. “Now, we need clothes!”

Neil regrets everything.

Midsummer lands on a Saturday this year, and the festival starts midday Friday to the sunset on Saturday, just over 24 hours of celebrations. Basically, it’s just a drinking marathon with interspersed traditional events, as far as Neil knows.

Shopping ends up being a team activity. They split up into the various cars, Neil going with the twins, Nicky, and Kevin. Once at the mall, the group splits up, agreeing to meet up at the food court in a couple hours. Dan, Matt, Renee, and Allison go off, Allison knowing exactly where she wants to go. Aaron dips away to meet up with Katelyn, leaving Andrew, Neil, and Kevin to follow after Nicky.

They wind up in stores that Neil would only ever expect Renee to shop at, but he learns that Midsummer attire consists of light, airy, or floral. He can’t imagine Andrew dressing in anything on the racks around them.

Neil’s eyes flit to the man, picking blankly through some loose, long sleeved shirts, and worries his bottom lip. He hasn’t had the chance to speak with his apparent date, never able to catch Andrew alone. So far, it seems like Andrew is going to play along. At the very least, he hasn’t thrown Neil under the bus. But Neil doesn’t want to force Andrew into doing something he doesn’t want to, the guilt eats up at him.

Looking around, Nicky’s looking through jeans, a pile of clothes already over one arm, and Kevin’s on his phone texting. Neil makes his way over to Andrew, pretending to look through the pile of shirts next to him.

“You don’t have to pretend to be my, uh, date,” he says.

Andrew makes no sign that he heard Neil, or even acknowledges him. He just grabs one of the shirts from the rack and throws it at Neil. Neil only just catches it. It’s soft and light, a faded dark red. Andrew moves on to a pile of jeans and grabs a light beige pair after looking through sizes, tossing that to Neil as well.

“Go try those one,” he orders. Neil frowns but does as told when Andrew just stares at him. Like previous times, the clothes fit well in that they’re not too big on his frame per his usual preference, but these are still light and loose. The shirt has some sort of crisscross lacing at the neck that dips down his sternum, and the sleeves are a smidge too long, coming halfway down his palms. The jeans are tight, formed to his legs, especially at his calves. They’re ripped at the knees with other signs of distress low on his thighs and along his shins.

He changes back into his own clothes and goes to find Andrew and the others. They all finish up relatively quickly and go to pay. Andrew dumps his collection with Neil’s with a pointed, “This is your fault.”

Since that’s about as close as Neil is going to get as a response to whether or not Andrew’s on board with the charade, he pays for the both of them and only winces slightly at the resulting cost. Nicky has a few other shops he wants to go to so they follow after him until it’s about time to meet back up with the others and grab food.

Dan, Matt, Allison, and Renee are already there. They’ve commandeered a table big enough for all of them and two extra chairs are piled with shopping bags. They’ve also already gone and grabbed food, trays ranging from burgers to pizza to what looks like Thai. Andrew’s crew dump their bags and go off to grab food of their own before returning. Neil pays for Andrew’s burger and tooth-rotting milkshake.

“Successful day?” Nicky asks, plopping down and immediately going into conversation about purchases with Allison and Matt. Neil quietly takes a seat at the end of the table next to Andrew, busying himself with his salad. Aaron and Katelyn show up and Katelyn joins in talking about Midsummer plans and excitement. Neil keeps half an ear on their conversation, piecing together what Midsummer with the Foxes entails. It really doesn’t sound like much more than a big party involving all the Fae courts in the area.

Neil’s content to listen and pick at his salad, but not everyone else is on board with that. He’s pulled into conversation by Allison cupping her chin in her palm and leaning across the table, staring him down. “So how long have you and Andrew been enough of a thing to go to Midsummer as a pair?”

Neil looks to Andrew who continues to work on his monstrosity of a milkshake. The only sign of him paying attention to the table is the way he loudly sucks up the chocolate and brownie ice cream mix.

Neil rolls his eyes at Allison. “It’s not anyone’s business. It’s just a party.”

“Midsummer is not just a party,” Nicky butts in. “Of all the quarter days it’s the one that’s all about relationships! Erik proposed to me at the last one I went to with him in Germany.”

“It does focus on relationships, but not only of those romantic in nature. There’s an emphasis on women and family as a whole, as well,” Renee adds.

Neil frowns. “But you were trying to set me up with strangers.”

Allison just looks at him like he’s a fumbling child who doesn’t know anything. “You don’t go to Midsummer stag unless you intend to get around or your partner can’t make it for whatever reason.”

Neil still doesn’t get why they care so much. He stuffs his mouth to keep from having to continue the conversation and is relieved when Renee distracts everyone by talking about the upcoming fall semester.

Neil finishes his salad and slides his eyes to Andrew who’s dipping his French fries into what’s left of his milkshake. Andrew meets his gaze and raises a brow mockingly at him. “Enjoying your first Midsummer?”

Neil really doesn’t need his input on how much of a hassle one little fib’s turned into.

Midsummer Eve starts like a normal day up until Neil is nabbed by Allison and Nicky to get dressed and made up. He’s given a pile of clothes and told to get dressed. In addition to what he had tried on the other day, he’s given knee-high leather boots that lace up all the way and an assortment of braided leather and hemp bracelets in varying shades of brown that all together cover a good three inches of his wrists. He’s made to sit through a bit of make-up, Allison lining his eyes with dark red-brown eyeliner and smudging some sort of gel, shimmery with specks of red glitter, on his cheeks. He draws the line at the equally shimmery lip gloss Allison is poised to smear on him.

Allison isn’t too disappointed. “I figured the lip gloss would be too much for you.”

Nicky, however, sulks openly as he gets his turn to arrange Neil’s auburn curls. He adds some sort of spray to it on top of the styling gel. Neil catches sight of the can, seeing it’s some sort of gold glitter spray suitable for skin and hair.

When he’s allowed to see himself, Neil scrunches his nose at his appearance. He looks, well, Fae. There’s no other word to describe it. If he pulled down the glamour that rounded his ears, he’d look like something out of a fairy tale storybook, scars ignored. It’s almost too much, but seeing how the girls and Nicky are done up, he’s grateful that this is all they’ve done to him. He could have had glittery lips to match his hair and cheeks and a lot more sparkly jewelry.

They meet up at the court when they’re ready. Everyone’s dressed in ways to complement their natures or alignments, or matching their Fae date. They’ve all got shimmery glitter on them in some form. Neil wonders if Allison and Nicky bought out their favourite stores of everything that contained glitter and sparkles.

In essence, they look like they got lost going to a Renaissance faire. Even Andrew’s deigned to look the part, although he’s stuck with his black, just in different cuts. Neil finds himself staring at the way the shirt, similar to his own but a deep black, hugs Andrew’s shoulders. Somehow, he’s been convinced to partake in the glitter, his jeans glittering silver in the light and a matching shimmer in his hair.

Andrew comes up to him. “Staring,” he accuses, but he stares Neil up and down before reaching out and tugging at the leather necklace around Neil’s neck, pulling Neil down and leaving barely inches between their faces. He reaches up to thumb at Neil’s cheek, some of the red glitter staining his thumb.

“Couldn’t take the lip gloss? Andrew smirks.

Neil narrows his eyes. “Not like you’re wearing any either.”

Andrew shrugs and lets Neil go, moving to stand beside him waiting for Wymack and Abby to finish up lighting up the first fires. Since they can’t go around lighting full bonfires across campus and the court, they light candles that will burn until they get back. They’re put everywhere from Wymack’s office to around the court to the dorms.

“Now, most of you know how this works. We’ll be there until tomorrow morning unless one of you idiots manage to do something that’ll have us leaving before someone dies or gets cursed,” Wymack says as Abby gathers together what she needs to create a portal to the Fae realm.

Where Midsummer is held differs every year and by regions, but it is always within the Fae realm. Abby and Wymack, with help from Renee, create the portal and they all file through once it’s set up. Non-Fae enter with the Fae who invited them and Neil watches as Allison takes Renee, arm in arm, while Dan ushers Aaron and Katelyn in, and Matt takes Nicky, Nicky cheerfully clinging onto Matt’s arm. Kevin escorts Abby, so Wymack can keep the doors open and Neil realizes it’s his and Andrew’s turn.

Andrew offers an arm and a quiet, “Yes or no?”

Neil nods, says yes just as quietly, and lightly slides his hand into the offered crook.

There’s nothing overly shocking about stepping through the portal, it’s a smooth transition for the most part. But Neil feels his glamour fall the second he and Andrew are through and into a clearing alight with lanterns and the beginnings of the biggest bonfire he’s ever seen. He panics, hands going up to his ears, now pointed and distinctly elven, and he can only imagine that his pupils have turned into cat-like slits, mirror images of his father’s.

A hand comes up and grips lightly but firmly at the back of his neck and after a second, Neil sees that it’s Andrew’s. He allows Andrew to guide him to the side, towards a copse of trees decorated with little lights.

“Glamours have no effect in places like this,” Andrew says. Neil knows that there are such places, it just didn’t cross his mind that Midsummer was held in one of them. “Is this going to be a problem?”

Neil takes some controlling breaths and shakes his head. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” He looks around and sees that it’s true, no one appears to have glamours, an array of various Fae and their companions in full form. Matt’s arms are patched with bark, Dan’s hair is littered with tiny flicks of flames, and Allison’s translucent wings are tucked behind her back as she walks with Renee towards where the bonfire is being set up.

Andrew releases his hold on Neil’s neck, and Neil finds himself missing it. But he focuses and grounds himself, tries to ignore how open and vulnerable he feels without his glamour, something he’s far too used to constantly having on his person.

When he feels more or less in control again, Andrew’s staring at him. Neil raises a brow and Andrew shakes his head and starts walking towards where food is laid out. “You Fae better have alcohol at these things.”

There are various types of alcohol, mundane and Fae tinkered. Andrew sticks to the normal drinks and piles a plate high with various desserts after making Neil figure out what some of the unfamiliar ones are. Neil sticks to the array of fruits, berries, and cheeses.

Neil finds Midsummer to be interesting on the whole. The bonfire is built quickly and people in pairs or groups dance around it. Nicky flits between couples and people who appear to be single, dancing and running around cheerfully. He even takes Katelyn for a round around the fire, the two twirling amongst other couples and groups. Abby and Wymack stick to the small lake where mermaids and water aligned Fae linger. There looks to be some sort of flower garland making camp set up, rings of woven flowers and foliage set to float into the water. Neil notices that a number of attendees have flowers in their hair as the night goes on, ranging from crowns to being woven directly into their locks.

At some point, Renee comes by, a rainbow crown of flowers in her hair, and hands Neil and Andrew flower crowns of their own. Neil’s is made of flowers in hues of red and white and Andrew’s of dark purples and grey. They’re lightly dusted in glitter and Neil both wants to and doesn’t want to know where on earth they’re all getting it from. Andrew scowls at it but puts it on and dares Neil to comment on it with a glare.

“Who’s the one that looks like some woodland elf?” Andrew sneers when Neil can’t stop his smile quick enough.

“At least I don’t look like some goth pixie.” Neil gets shoved for that, dropping his fruits. He glares at Andrew who just smirks. But when Andrew goes to refill on drinks and sweets, he has an extra bowl of sugar glazed berries he claims he lost interest in on the walk back to Neil. They’re almost too sugary sweet but Neil eats them all, licking his fingers of the glaze after.

He finds Andrew watching him before Andrew looks back to the fire, watching his brother and cousin and Kevin who’s been off with Thea who came separately. Neil grabbing some more of the sugar covered fruit is met with narrowed eyes. It only encourages him to smile as he offers some of the fruit to Andrew who only scoffs and takes a swig of his drink.

As the sun begins to set, young Fae take part in some tradition involving jumping over the bonfire that’s settled down to something a little more reasonable. Couples go after and Neil watches Matt and Dan, Allison and Renee, Aaron and Katelyn, and even Wymack and Abby. He doesn’t know if he and Andrew are expected to do so, but he sees some other pairs only watching and stays settled in the grass beside Andrew. However, once it begins to grow dark and the lanterns and lights in the field grow brighter, Neil and Andrew are tracked down by the Foxes, none sober, and forced to join in the new round of dancing around the dying bonfire.

It’s not terrible, and Neil finds himself laughing and smiling at the Foxes’ actions. And then Nicky ushers Neil towards Andrew exclaiming something about how the two haven’t danced at all together the entire night and Neil just barely stops himself from crashing fully into the scowling man.

“I’m going to kill him,” Andrew mutters but he holds out a hand and directs to Neil, “Yes or no?”

Neil blinks in surprise but he finds himself taking Andrew’s hand and saying, “Yes.”

“Hands don’t go below my shoulders,” Andrew states, his own going to Neil’s waist after pausing for Neil to nod his consent. Neil lightly places his hands on Andrew’s shoulders, feeling the muscle and warmth through his thin shirt.

As they dance around the fire, Neil thinks back and realizes he’s not entirely clueless as to why Andrew’s name was on his tongue. They may have started off rocky when Neil first met the Foxes, but Andrew’s safe. Andrew is strange and dangerous but safe. He’s not safe in the conventional way, but he understands Neil and Neil knows he can trust the other man.

He doesn’t know what look is on his face but Andrew stares just as intently at him for the duration of the dance before they break apart. Andrew leads the way to the side, finding a patch of grass barely touched by the firelight. Neil sits down beside him, just short of their shoulders brushing.

The festivities die down, people dozing off around the fire, going into the woods to sleep for a few hours. The Foxes all gather to where Neil and Andrew are, eating and drinking until one by one they nod off and Neil and Andrew are the only Foxes awake.

“The autumnal equinox is next,” Andrew says quietly. “Now that you’ve agreed to this one, fat chance of evading any of the others.”

Neil groans, falling over his bent legs, pressing his forehead to his knees. “I have to deal with Allison and Nicky trying to set me up four times a year now?” He turns his head when the expected jab from Andrew doesn’t come, staining the knees of his pants with the red glitter that is still stubbornly stuck to his cheeks.

Andrew’s looking at him, considering. His flower crown is tilted and in the flickering lights of the fire there’s something unearthly about the human. Neil wants to reach out and touch the curve of his jaw, feel the strength of his shoulder again.

“Staring,” Andrew says.

“So are you,” Neil replies.

“Why did you lie?”

Neil frowns. “About?”

Andrew rolls his eyes and gestures around.

“Oh. I just wanted them to get off my back,” Neil answers. “I just blurted your name out.” The shuttered blankness of Andrew’s expression has Neil offering more, a truth he’s still figuring out. “At first I didn’t know why I picked you, but. I think I would have asked you anyway.”

Neil doesn’t know if he’s said too much, revealed too much, but Andrew only reaches a hand out towards Neil’s face. “Yes or no?”

Neil sits up, pressing his cheek into Andrew’s waiting hand, keeps his hands in the grass.

“Yes.”

#neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #all for the game #aftg #andreilweek2018 #my writing #tumblr fic

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assholetozier · 6 years

Text

If These Walls Could Talk

Pairings: Stanley Uris x Mike Hanlon, Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak, Ben Hanscom x Beverly Marsh

Warnings: mentions of light self harm (nothing intense atm)

Word Count: 1,841

Part: 1/?

a/n; Hi! This is my first work for the IT fandom and all that jazz and I would give a sappy intro to this but all I am going to say is that it will get better as it goes blah blah blah, and that I worked very hard on this and stuff. If any of you have any criticism, ideas, or just positive feedback let me know! Requests in my asks, all that jazz and I can also add to the tag list. Alright let’s do this.

Stanley always hated math with a passion. Numbers just sometimes felt off to him; four felt better than three, ten better than eleven. They gave him this weird feeling in his chest, like there was a tea kettle ready to explode in his abdomen. He’d pinch the thin skin on the back of his hand until it was a rosey pink and read math through clenched teeth.

But everyone hated math, right?

What is the answer to number fifteen, Stanley?

Why couldn’t it have been sixteen? Maybe he would’ve felt better. Maybe he could have focused and understood the problem. Maybe he could have closed his mind off and answered the goddamn question. He tried, he tried so hard that his teeth pierced his skin on the inside of his cheek without even noticing.

“Is it… twenty…” It’s twenty three goddammit just say it, you act like the number will hurt you. “..four. Is it twenty four, so b., right?”

The teacher shook her head, and wrote a petite cursive a on the chalkboard. The iron taste suddenly flooded his mouth.

“D-duh-do you know what the t-test is over?”

It was letter A, not B.

“Stan the Man! Are you gunna eat that?”

It was letter A, not B.

“Ugh, Stanley, could you please tell your best pal Richie over here that my mother isn’t an object?”

It was letter a, not B.

Why couldn’t his brain just leave him alone? Was it because he didn’t read the Torah enough? Was it because he wasn’t good enough? Was it because, yeah he could admit, he didn’t look at Betty Ripsom the same way he looked at the warm cocoa boy when he saw him riding his bike through the town every sunday.

The older the boy got, the worse he felt. Every minute, he did something wrong. The line he drew wasn’t straight enough. He put too many onions on one side of the salad versus the other. He stepped on his left two more times than he did on his right. It was too much.

******

The curly haired boy paced back and forth in his barren hospital room. It had been a month since he was admitted and for the entire four weeks he was on quarantine from social interaction. The only people he ever saw were his nurses, who just shoved a rainbow of pills down his throat and talked to him like a lost puppy.

But he heard the hollowed voices in the halls. When he pretended to be asleep, he heard the whispers. Today was the day he was moving. With people, and ...he didn’t know anything else after that.

Who was he living with? Were they all his age? What if he has to be around old people? Did the rooms have actual colors? Could he open the windows? How many others would-

“Mister Uris? Doctor Newby would like to see you in his office right away.”

Stan’s legs practically slid against the carpet like ice. The hallways were long, wide, and had no color to them whatsoever. If he was lucky it would be the last time he would ever have to see them again.

“You wanted to see me, Doctor Newby?”

Doctor Newby, in short, reminded Stanley of a marshmello. A pale man indeed, with a hearty, sweet laugh he could always hear stretched for miles. He was a larger man, with broad shoulders and a bit of stubble on his chin. Above which, was a permanent smile that he had never seen leave his chapped lips, pearly whites shining underneath.

The teeth flashed, “Please, call me Bob.”

An awkward pause floated in the air. The younger boy took the chance to straighten his leather chair. It stuck to his skin.

“Right...Bob.” His eyes glued to the man’s deep mahogany desk, curved in all the wrong places. His teeth gritted.

“So, it has been a month for you here, am I right?”

The curly haired boy felt himself give a curt nod, not even caring to listen to the bright man talk. He was too concerned with the pencils that sat in random spots on his desk. His eyes ran over it a million times, at what felt like ninety miles an hour. His ears shut down.

Until he heard the clearing of his throat, “your mother agreed it was time to move on in your treatment, so I hope you didn’t grow attached to that dead room of yours.”

Bob’s hearty laugh filled every corner of the room, making Stan almost crack a smile. Almost. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair, twice, and intertwined his fingers so he could squeeze his sweaty hands

“I don’t understand… did I do something wrong?”

The man’s lips straightened for a millisecond, “No, not wrong. However, we noticed that you being alone like you and your mother requested has not helped.”

Stan almost squeaked, “So what are you doing to me then?”

“We’re going to try what we call ‘colab therapy’. Your faction has six other kids your age with six different… issues. The goal is to support each other, while having a support system on the outside that aren’t just doctors prodding at you like science experiments.”

Another laugh, but it quickly burned out. Stan didn’t know what to feel. Hell, he barely knew how to feel, after being locked away for four weeks, it was hard to make eye contact. Bob seemed to notice, because he scooted back in his chair and clapped his hands together.

“Try it out! They’re all good kids I promise. We can move you out the second you feel uncomfortable.”

Why couldn’t Stan just go home?

Nonetheless, the jewish boy felt his legs carry him on a twenty minute walk through the building of which he only thought had ever consisted of his and twelve other patients in his unit. They passed by what seemed like hundreds of room numbers. Each had a particular sound and or smell, some exerting wails of agony, some with mechanical laughter, some had tears pouring out of the cracks under the floorboards.

The worst were the ones that were silent.

Everything was shut off as soon as the elevator doors opened to the top floor. It looked almost like a condo of sorts. The area was open, with three leather couches and two love-seats curved to a tee (which, was better in Stan’s opinion than them being scattered everywhere.) A single television, with a timer besides it on the long, tree trunk colored stand. A few boxes, of what seemed like belongings, were already scattered among the living space on a few random stools and chairs.

Looking past the open space, there seemed to be a long hall to the right with more rooms, and looking forward there was a large bright circle table with what looked like several documents and papers.

Stan felt the corners of his lips rise, “When did this...isn’t this a hospital?”

“This used to be a VERY large corporate office, but when I got the project approved we had some renovations done.”

His pearl teeth released from his clam-shell lips, showing of a warm smile that made Stan feel safe. His legs urged him to go fix the chairs at the table, they were all hassled and pushed every which way. When his long, pale finger reached up from his side, however, he heard the scream from the long hallways.

“Richie, if you touch my cheek one more time I will cut your nuts off in your sleep.”

“...kinky.”

At first, Stanley was repulsed. But then.. He remembered those voices. From where? No clue.

Bob huffed, pulling the curly haired boy out of his trance. A few strides forward, then a pause. “I’ll have to apologize, Stanley. The boys are a little..rowdy sometimes.”

“Am I the last one to move in?”

The broad man chuckles, “No, Beverly and Bill are still in solitary at the moment. Both had..rough nights. They’ll move in tomorrow morning.”

Bob smiles again, walking over to him and taking a seat at the circle table. He calls for the boys to join them in the room.

The first boy looked like a mop. His hair was curly and covered his ears in the black ringlets. Coke-bottle glasses made his dark-near black eyes buggy and shiny. Defined cheeks and jawline, cheeks littered with freckles. He wore a smirk like a necklace.

A much shorter boy almost clung to him at the hip, gelled back milk chocolate hair to reveal a pair of soft, innocent hazel eyes. His lips were pink a full, pulled into a straight line across to his pink cheeks. Although he seemed drawn to the mop, he still in a way stayed to himself, in his own little bubble. He was gripping a bottle of hand sanitizer.

Both muttered mini apologies and let their eyes trail up to Stan.

“It’s a newby!”

“No shit, Richie, I thought he was a mail boy.”

“FIRST of all, are you assuming genders? You don’t know, what if mail kid here is a girl?”

“Okay, not fair.”

“You know what isn’t fair? You always nagging at me, I swear to dear fuck-”

Bob clears his throat, and the boys’ voices immediately drop.

“This is Stanley Uris, yes he is another new roomate. Where are Mike and Ben?”

The shorter boy nods, “They’re talking about this book in the room-”

“Mikey! Haystack! Newby awaits!” The mop, who Stan assumed was Richie, screamed at the top of his lungs.

Hazel eyed boy gave him a pointed stare as the floorboards creaked and two other figures emerged.

They both had on bright smiles. The taller boy had cocoa skin and a scar on his eyebrow. His hands, calloused and bruised, were slightly shaking at his sides almost as he was afraid. But if he was, his face surely didn’t show it. His arms were strong and build.

The other boy besides him, however, was a cute kid. His cheeks were puffy and pink, lips tinted and plump. He had long eyelashes, elongating his emerald eyes that were bright and dusted with gold. The features all seemed… very feminine. But Stan didn’t want to make any assumptions.

The pale boy reached out a hand, “Ben Hanscom.”

So the other boy, who he assumed to be Mike, was pacing around the room. Stan noticed that if one part of him was still, two others were moving.

“Stan-”

Richie practically hacked a hair ball, “Let’s quit it with the friendship-bullshit. Can we finally know who we’re rooming with?”

The Jewish boy’s eyes became saucers, “I don’t know if I can-”

“Richie, you will be with Beverly. Eddie, with Mike. Bill, Stan and Ben all three together. You have… three minutes to go fight over rooms. Go!”

Richie and the shorter boy took off like sonic the hedgehog.

Newby burst out laughing, “I have your rooms assigned already I just think it’s so funny how they argue.”

______________

Tag list:

@trashmoutheds @stanleyurisisalive @rainy-kaspbrak @whipashwhipash @trxshmouth-t0zier @eddiekaspbraklives @theperksofbeingawallflwer @murderoleff @richie-n-eds @welcometothemagentaparade @richrichbeep

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