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formerprincess · 3 years

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A tale written with fangs and claws || Chapter 62

Chapters: 62/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt Characters: Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken, Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant, Nolan (Teen Wolf), Brett Talbot, Lori Talbot Additional Tags: Alpha Liam Dunbar, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Dunbar Pack, Bisexual Liam Dunbar, Werewolf Theo Raeken, Alpha Theo Raeken, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, Mates, Liam and Theo are mates, Top Theo Raeken, Bottom Theo Raeken, Top Liam, Bottom Liam Dunbar, Bisexual Theo Raeken, Original Character(s) Series: Part 1 of Morning Dew Pack

It's party time at the Barrett house and finally, the members of the supernatural groups all meet. New friendships will be made.

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Liam tiptoed out of his room and down the stairs. Theo was still sleeping, just like the rest of the house given it was incredibly quiet. Even Koda and Aka slept in their beds. But Liam didn't mind, he couldn't sleep and so got out of bed to get dressed and walk downstairs to prepare breakfast. When his pack woke up, they could all dig in and then do whatever they liked before driving to the Barrett Pack in the evening.

To his surprise, Liam found Maya in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. "Hey." She smiled at her Alpha. "Hi. Already up? Special occasion or just because?" Liam inquired and grabbed himself a fresh glass. "Couldn't sleep any longer so I decided to do some yoga, shower, and get dressed. And now I'm currently deliberating what to make for breakfast so you don't have all the work." She handed the juice carton over for Liam and he poured himself a glass as well. "Ah, I don't mind, you know that." Liam enjoyed cooking, especially for his pack. "But breakfast was on my mind too." "Yeah, I know. But even you, our wonderful Alpha, deserve a break." Maya smiled placatory. "Oh hey, know what we could do? We could grab some muffins and bagels. There is a bakery down the street, I always wanted to check it out." The idea was good. Liam had not found the time to check out the stores around their new home until now. Since they had the time, he saw no problem with it. "Yeah, sure. Good idea. We'll walk?" "A morning walk never hurt anyone." Maya gave him a beaming smile and Liam laughed. He hurried after her and grabbed his wallet and phone on the way.

It wasn't too hot but you could already feel the heat starting to build up. Liam groaned. "Thank god we're having a pool when the heatwave hits." "Hm." Maya made some confirming sounds. They walked in silence for a while. It was still early morning and both were not so awake to have an intriguing conversation. "You excited about the party tonight?" Maya asked after a while. "Yeah. My pack finally meets all of the other packs, which is cool. Kinda feels as if everything comes together." Liam could not wait for the party. "I think now it's the perfect time for meeting new packs. It's time this pack puts itself out there", Maya declared boldly. Liam frowned. "What's that suppose to mean?" She explained: "We spent almost a whole year coming together and figuring things out for ourselves. So much happened already but, in my opinion, we are now at a point where we are solidified in our positions in the pack, we know where we stand. We have to get out there and socialize with other supernatural beings in a good way. The way I see it, no pack - just like no person - is an island. We have to get together with other people, have to make connections, be part of society. To do that properly you need a good base. We established that base all year long. And now, we can make go out and link with other supernaturals." "Just because we make new acquaintances does not mean we abandon the pack." "Yeah." Maya paused. "Have I ever told you my parents came from two companioned packs? That's how they met. So I know how important this is. Not for alliances, that too, still not what I'm talking about right now. But just like we make friends outside of the pack with humans, we also have to make friends outside of the pack with other supernatural beings. Feel free to correct me, you maybe see this different?" "Not really." Liam shook his head. "It's tough to express how I feel about it. In Beacon Hills, it was only us. In the beginning. Then came others, like Brett's and Lori's pack. Still, it wasn't the mass as it is here. Seattle's the bigger town, guess that's the reason. I like meeting new supernaturals, it helps me get a better understanding of this world. Beacon Hills was one horrible being after the other, barely anything nice. Right now, it feels as if I'm experiencing the bright side of this world, and yeah, I like it." "We are happy you're branching out from the pack", Maya let Liam in on a well-kept secret of the pack. Liam would love to say he understood that but not really. "Huh?" "Almost every one of us has some hobby or side activity not involving the pack. Sadie has the university newspaper, Mason has debating society, I have my protests, for example. You don't have something without any involvement of the pack and we noticed. Your Beacon Hills gang said you went to the museum back then and such. You don't do this anymore. It's a pity and we feel it might be because you're just focused on us and our wellbeing." "I don't pay much attention to that", Liam was honest. "It's not like I feel as if I'm missing out. I have a boyfriend, I can do things I like. I have lacrosse." "Where two other pack members play in the team." "I work at Ellie's." "I'm talking about free time here, Liam, and as much as you might like your job, it's still work." "Okay." Liam laughed softly. "But I didn't have many hobbies, to begin with. Lacrosse was my thing. Since that doesn't count..." he teased his female Beta. "It's great you're having so much fun with lacrosse, don't get me wrong. But when we talked about hobbies, we discovered that you don't have many without the pack. You're not the only one, by the way, Caden and Corey also." "Maybe we're just frugal", Liam suggested. Maya snorted. "Right." "Well, we are not unhappy. I know I'm not. Don't think Cade or Cor are." "We know that. It's just something that came up. Wasn't an attack or something." "Didn't think it was. And I guess you're kinda right. I focused on the pack for the last year. Not solely but a lot." Liam had to admit that to himself and anybody else. "I accepted the Alpha spark and from that point on it felt like a snowball running. Met you, Sadie, Ever, Theo got sick, Nolan came back, the wendigo, the first Alpha, and so on. Sometimes I lost track of time and when I realize I'm an Alpha for almost a year, I sometimes can't believe it. Where did the year go?" He shook his head in wonder. "And once again, I have to say right now feels like a new beginning. Like our season two, so to speak. New challenges but also new friends and opportunities. We have to finish the semester and then spring break. Those are the next key events for me."

They arrived at the bakery. It stood in line with a butchery and a grocery store. The square in front of the stores was cleanly swept, some trees placed around strategically with some benches underneath. Liam guessed it had something to do with the neighborhood. Everything was spotless here. Neat. The houses around were expensive and he suspected this was why it looked like that. "Feels like this is a little town on its own, not part of Seattle", Maya voiced what Liam had thought. He grinned. "When I bought it, I was told the neighborhood was lovely and boomed during holidays. Around Christmas, the streets will be full of lights and decorations. I'm excited about it." Liam entered the bakery after Maya. The store was just as neat and the outside and the woman behind the counter greeted them friendly. The range of baked goods was mouthwatering and they even had a little coffee corner. "Look at that!" Maya was as amazed as Liam was. They spent the next few minutes choosing various muffins and bagels before they each got a coffee, paid, and left the store with pale blue boxes holding their loot. "Do you think summer break will be difficult?" Maya asked. Liam sipped his coffee and shrugged. He considered his answer and swallowed. "Different, not difficult. It will be strange for sure, for weeks we will only have contact over the phone not in person. But I also think it will be beneficial for all of us. Just like a child going on vacation without their parents for the first time. And once we're all back together, we have stories to tell." "I'm excited to return home. My aunt and I won't be traveling much but just coming home, to the house I left as a completely different Maya, feels good. Now I have control. I can manage. My aunt is proud of me. I never thought this day would come." "I'm pretty sure your aunt was always proud of you. But the control thing I get. And coming home, after you changed so much, I also get the feeling. I'm not sure how I would feel if I returned to Beacon Hills." Liam would spend the summer break in Hawaii. Theo came with him, of course, they would meet his parents there, but a trip to his hometown was not on the list. For the moment, he didn't need to. "Wouldn't you like it to return and meet people after you changed so much?" Maya questioned him. Liam shrugged. "Not sure. I didn't have to return home since becoming an Alpha, I don't know what to expect. I'll make my mind up about it once the occasion arises." He continued to sip from his coffee. "Maybe you have become too large for Beacon Hills", Maya mused.

They continued their walk and once they reached the house, they found Brett and Nolan on the front porch. Not that those two noticed Maya and Liam approaching, since both were wrapped around each other and more concerned with sucking tongue than watching out for anyone else nearby. "Why is it always me who stumbles over kissing pack members?" Liam joked. Maya cackled. "You two are incredibly impolite!" Brett complained after he tore himself away from Nolan. "Hey, you two were the ones blocking the front door with your making out", Liam replied without a care in the world. "Yeah, think about that!" Nolan tried to one-up him and then considered how lame that was. "Damn!" "Does that mean you two are a real couple or is this still the figuring things out stage?" Maya was not curious, not at all. "Couple." Nolan laced his fingers with Brett and raised their hands. "Not letting that one go." "You beat me to that reply." Brett smiled at his boyfriend and kissed Nolan's knuckles. "Even though I still would have loved the announcement via billboard." "You're a dork", Nolan replied fondly and kissed Brett again. Liam took that as his cue to push both out of the way and open the door.

"There you are", Theo said when he spotted him. Liam raised the boxes in his hand. "We got breakfast. Your favorite muffins are inside here as well." "Aw, I love you." Maya peaked behind Liam. "Does that also count for me?" "I love you in a completely different way than Liam. You're more of my annoying little sister", Theo replied jokingly and she gave him a playful shove with her shoulder when she brushed past him. Theo reached out to take the boxes from Liam. Liam whereas kept them and stared at his boyfriend. "Quick question, Maya said you talked about me not having any hobby without the pack's involvement. What's up with that?" To his credit, Theo looked the tiniest bit guilty. He cleared his throat. "I mean, it's true, right?" "Yeah. I'm just surprised you didn't tell me about that. Usually, you're pretty straightforward with those things." "It's not a problem. Why should I bring it up? If I feared you were unhappy, I would have said something." Theo grabbed one box from Liam when his Alpha didn't move them out of reach. "Besides, you have begun finding your own things recently." Liam squinted. "Were you worried about me?" "Sometimes", Theo confessed, "I love you and have always worried about you. We talked about you being capable. Doesn't stop me from worrying though and yes, sometimes I fear you focus too much on making other people happy and forget yourself a little bit." The worry was sweet and Liam wasn't angry. A little bit confused that his friends all seemingly shared this thought but they all looked out for each other. He as the Alpha was no exception. His Betas had his back and protected him as much as Liam protected them. A good feeling. "You're cute." He knew Theo hated this word relating to himself. "Now, why don't you run and grab Brett and Nolan. They're making out on the front porch." "They're doing what now?"

****** "According to the directions you have to take a right turn here and then follow the road. There is only one street, so I'm not sure why you want me to check with the map. What's your plan? Breach and slam your truck against a tree? Your choice. Left or right? Which tree should it be, given we're currently on a freaking road seamed by forest left and right?" Liam nagged his boyfriend. As much as he loved the older man, the ex-chimera managed to get on his nerves sometimes. If his truck was involved it was especially bad. Take right now. They were on their way to Luka's house and Theo had insisted Liam used the map from the glove department. Not that he was not using the navigation system in his truck, no he used that too but wanted Liam to double-check. "Maybe there is a junction!" "This is a forest!" Liam, Brett, Nolan, and Lori called out. True. After they left the main road (and just like Luka had described it to Liam and why would Liam doubt him? Luka knew where he lived and how to get to his own home, thank you very much, Theodore!) the paved road had narrowed and wound between trees in all shades of green. No chance at swinging off if you didn't want to crash your car. "I was just checking!" Theo defended himself and Liam snorted. His boyfriend shot him a glare but Liam ignored it as much as possible. It was one of their usual spats, without any real anger, just the two of them riling each other up. They were good at those and the better they knew each other, the more those evolved.

Suddenly a big house appeared several feet in front of them. Liam jumped in his seat, not due to the building, but due to Brett's head suddenly appearing between the driver and the passenger seat. "Sick! Are you sure you didn't miss a turn and drove us straight to Italy??" He all but yelled and Liam held his left ear. "Thanks for making me go deaf, Brett!" But yeah, Brett also had a point, The house looked straight from a travel brochure about the sunny vineyards in Tuscany. Same building style as those villas there with bright walls and red shingles on the roof. "How unbelievable pretty." Lori was quieter than her brother but also mesmerized by the appearance. "That is a house. No, screw that, that's a mansion", Theo declared. Liam nodded slowly. He had never paid much attention to his friend's monetary status but that house was bigger than theirs and now he felt kind of silly for never thinking about it before. His jaw had dropped and the closer they came, the more it dropped.

They drove through opened iron gates with some intriguing design on them (Nolan exclaimed he would like to ask what it represented) and past a small fountain sparkishly purling water. The fountain served as some sort of center for the round driveway. Theo now stopped his truck in front of the red entrance door. Liam still gaped. To the left was a garage with closed gates but from what he could see, it could hold more than three cars. A small red car was parked in front of the garage. Then came the main building with two floors and on the right side you could walk around the house. Liam would take a shot in the dark and say this led to the garden. "Impressive!" Mike commented after he got out of Liam's car. The rest of the pack filtered in from the truck, Liam's car, and Ever's car. A door in the garage gate opened and out came a tall, broad-shouldered man with dirty blonde hair. He nodded at them in a welcoming gesture. "Hello. I'm Holden. Welcome to our home." Liam's pack greeted politely and Holden nodded at Theo's truck. "Yours?" "Yes." Theo nodded. "It's in impeccable condition. This model has some problems and you rarely see them be in good repair." "I try my best. It's my truck after all and I want it to last", Theo acted as if this was nothing but Liam knew how proud his boyfriend was and how much work he had put in the car.

"They're here for five minutes and you're already talking about cars? Seriously?" The front door had opened and a brunette woman stepped out. Her wavy hair fell loosely over her shoulders and her lips curved into a bright smile. "Hi, I'm Delaney!" She introduced herself to Liam and his pack. It wouldn't have really been necessary, she had the same impish features around the eyes her brother had and the same dimples. Holden scoffed. "Cut your hair again. You are so much nicer when your hair is shorter." His tone was fond, like an older brother talking to his sister. Luka had described Holden as his brother cause they grew up together. So he also grew up with Delaney and their banter made sense. "Nonsense!" Delaney waved her arm around. "I'm a delight, all the time. Every time." "Says who?" Holden questioned sarcastically. She left him behind in favor of tending to the Morning Dew Pack. "Come inside, have something cool to drink. My brother will be with us shortly. And you, Holden, wash your hands. Why do you always have to hide in the garage when we're having guests over?" Holden mumbled something but didn't follow when she ushered the group inside.

"Your house is incredible. I really thought we were in Italy!" Mason complimented Delaney and she smiled proudly. "Italy is big in our family so my dad had it built years ago. We all love it. Some little Mediterranean flair in North America." She led them past a large staircase leading to the upper floors, and towards the right side of the building, right into the kitchen. The kitchen itself held almost the same appliances Liam had, with one kitchen island in the middle. Two other women were currently working there but quit their chatting to greet the visitors. "This is Bryn and that over there is Lynn." "Hi! So glad you're here!" Lynn waved at them and beamed. Her blonde curls bounced around her petite face and her blue eyes shone with such excitement, you immediately liked her. All in all, she looked like a doll and Liam remembered Luka saying people underestimated her. Sadie had the same problem but he knew she could kick ass. Lynn probably too. Bryn, compared to Lynn, seemed more reserved, even though her smile was warm and welcoming. She seemed shyer. Her hair was dark brown but with blonde highlights and currently put up in a braided bun, with only some curls framing her face. "It's so nice to meet you." Her voice was softer too, not as enthusiastic as Lynn's but that wasn't a bad thing. "Would you like some lemonade? I made it this morning." "Homemade lemonade is always a great thing. Know how to make homemade lemonade and you have a place in my heart," Corey gushed. She beamed at him and then proceeded to fill enough glasses with everyone. "Bryn knows how to make a ton of homemade things. She's a great baker and cook, uses a lot of vegetables and fruits she grows in the garden!" Lynn praised and Bryn blushed softly. "Stop it." "This is so cool. I thought about cultivating things in our garden but I haven't made my mind up about it yet", Liam told Bryn. She pointed outside a window. "If you want, I can give you some tips later? Even share some seeds and I can bring you a box of what I harvested. It's too much for us anyway." "If that wouldn't be much trouble, yes, please! Oh, I'm Liam. We haven't really introduced ourselves. Sorry." "Nah, don't worry. She cyber-stalked you." Delaney pointed her thumb at Lynn. "We know all of your names, Instagram is fruitful." "They both stalked you. I tried to allure them from it but what can you do?" Bryn corrected and her friends gaped at her. She giggled. "Ah, our stalking unit are these two." Mike pointed at Mason and Sadie and both protested at first but then agreed. "Not all of your pack members are on Insta, right?" Sadie inquired. "They are, but some private and some under different names", Lynn explained. Bryn distributed the glasses with lemonade to everyone. An older man approached a door from the outside and opened it. His dark blonde hair was grey in some spots, he was clean-shaven, and looked fit. "Hello, everybody. I am Simon. Welcome to our lovely home." He stepped closer and extended his hand for Liam. "You're Liam Dunbar." "Nice to meet you, sir. Yes, I am." Liam shook his hand. It was a firm handshake, Simon knew how to grab things, and Liam was almost certain that extended over other areas of his life. Luka had told him, Simon had been the advisor of the pack, after all. "And you are Theo Raeken? The second Alpha?" Simon now dropped Liam's hand and greeted Theo. Theo also shook his hand. "Indeed, sir, nice to meet you." "So you're for Liam what Sandro is for Luka. Wonderful." He also dropped Theo's hand. "If you want you can already join us outside. Unless Will manages to make the grill explode, it should be safe", Simon joked and they all laughed. "Will and Sandro are the pack's answer to the Weasley Twins from Harry Potter. You know, cheeky jokes, pranks, that type of thing", Delaney filled Liam's pack in while they followed Simon outside.

In the garden stood already a table with plates, cutlery, and glasses. Garlands and fairy lights hung above the table and between some wooden poles, a big grill was already fired up, two men stood in front of it. They turned around when the group came closer. Both with dark hair, one just curly, the other not. They shared almost identical smiles. "Hey, our guests have arrived!" The curly-haired one said. "Astute observation, dearest cousin", the other teased him. He left the grill and waved. "Hey, I'm Will." "And I'm Sandro!" "And you're watching Disney Channel!" Delaney, Bryn, and Lynn said at the same time. Simon looked amused at their antics but then hurried over to the grill and tend to the meat already on it. He probably feared Sandro and Will would burn it. "Okay, now we're here, who is missing is my brother. Where is my brother?" Delaney looked around. "He's in the office, a contractor is causing problems. He will be with us shortly." Holden had joined the group again. "Just wanted to make sure he didn't go on a run." "He went on a run this morning, I accompanied him. Afterward, we transformed again, had a shower, and waited patiently for the party to start", Sandro defended Luka. "You showered together?" Lynn piped in. Sandro made a retching sound. "Gross. I'm gay but he's like my brother. I mean, yes, we are two attractive friends but not so much attraction I would sleep with him." "Jesus", Simon muttered. Mason and Liam looked at each other and began laughing. Mason had said the same thing about Liam at one point. "But wait, if you say transformed...Does that mean Luka can shift?" Tim had picked that up almost immediately. "We all can", Sandro said casually. Liam and his friends stared at him. What? "You all, the whole pack, can shift into actual wolves?" Lori could not believe this. "It's not clear what enables the ability to transform. But this pack managed to gather individuals with this special talent", Simon added. "So cool", Caden mumbled devoutly.

"What is cool?" Luka walked out of the house and joined them. "Our powerful Alpha! And here we thought you would never show your face", Delaney joked. "Hey, business is business. Didn't know you would miss me so much, sis. And hello, guys." He greeted Liam's pack. No time for further niceties since the doorbell rang. Luka turned around and disappeared into the house again.

And he appeared again moments later with Maddie in tow. "Maddie!" Liam greeted her happily and she hugged him. "Hey, Liam and the others." "No Asher?" Corey was a tad disappointed. Since the first meeting, Asher, Mason, and Corey had stayed in contact and even met up two more times. They had considered him being here a no-brainer. "I wanted to bring him but his father called and ugh!" She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out in distaste. But then her face lit up again. "Yet I didn't come alone." Only now they all noticed the blonde woman who had followed Maddie and Luka into the garden. She now raised a hand. "Hi, everybody, I'm Jade." "Vampire, right?" Mason, straight to the point. "One of the ones following Meadow, yep." Jade nodded. "Fantastic. Is that everybody?" Simon had turned the meat on the grill and was only now ushered away by Will. "Sava texted me they won't make it this early but they will join us later", Luka declared. The nickname came easy, Savannah herself had texted them all days ago they could use Sava or Savi if they didn't want to say or write her whole name. "So, let's start. Please, have a seat. Who wants a drink?"

They all went and found a place for themselves on the large table. Will turned out to be a god at the grill (with Simon's help, of course) and soon they all could eat. "I hope you have the steak extra bloody", Maddie joked. Will grasped his chest. "That's the only way we werewolves eat it. I was never aware there could be other choices. Please, tell me more, lady." She laughed and was brave enough to actually try a steak. When she tasted it, she hummed. "This is good." "Will is a chef. Every type of food he touches is amazing. Thank god for werewolf metabolism", Lynn sighed and drank from her wine. Conversation flowed easily around the table after that, they all got to know each other better, just as it had been planned. Liam talked with Holden and Maya about college and expectations from life. After Liam had explained his problem with his major and what he wanted to do after college, Holden was on his side. "The same for me. I graduated with a Women's Rights major but before I even finished my college education, I knew this wasn't what I wanted. Sometimes we realize what we want to do as a job is more of a hobby and what we saw as a hobby is actually what we want to do. I get what you're saying, Liam, I made the same decision once." He was a very understanding character and Liam noticed how carefully Holden listened. He had his full attention on the other persons in the conversation, a very comfortable feeling. Maya was now highly zealous. "You majored in Women's Rights?" "Yeah. The topic is close to my heart and there is still so much that needs to be done in this world. We, as a society, have to do something and I wanted to be part of the solution." The young Alpha smiled as he watched them dissolve in a very animated discussion and turned to his other side. There sat Maddie, Mason, and Will and they talked about the general perception of vampires. "Oh please, this is the Hollywood image of us vampires. The brooding lovers, pained by the thought of their eternal love aging and dying while they stay young and beautiful. And the tantalizing choice of turning them or not turning them." She raised her hand to her forehead and acted as if she was about to faint. "Bullshit!" She sat up straight. "Over the ages vampires managed to find a solution for this problem. With the help of other supernaturals and potions, we can also age. And we can drink a certain potion to fall into a neverending sleep. Some vampires live surrounded by humans and have to fit in. Sure, some of our kind do live this Hollywood image lifestyle but most of us are actually reasonable." "This is strangely upsetting", Mason confessed. "Not that you can do that and that Hollywood lied but that there could be vampires around without any of us noticing." Maddie just gave him a cheeky grin and drank her wine. "May I ask how old you are? I have this on my list since day one but it never came up." "I'm 317...Or 318?...No, 317...316?..No, no, 317." Maddie had to actually do some math. The three guys laughed and she joined them. "Then tell me, what era did you like the most?" Will questioned and swirled the rest of his wine in his glass. "Hm, okay, let me preface by saying every age and era had their problems and never was everything absolutely fine. Modern times are fine, we don't have to boil our food anymore. But I really loved the Roaring 20's. Dancing the Charleston was so much fun and I loved the dresses there. The glamour, the parties." "The Charleston...It's been a while since I learned and danced it but might giving me a refresher?" Will put his glass on the table, stood up, and held his hand out for Maddie. She chuckled but still followed him. Bryn manned the music player and when Will told her what they were trying to do, she searched for a fitting song. Soon she found one and they started dancing while the rest of their friends hollered. "Is that the Charleston? I always wanted to learn the dance!" Sadie was amazed. Will extended his hand towards her. "Sure, the more, the merrier." She happily jumped to her feet and joined. Mason followed closeby and Maddie began explaining the steps. Lynn swarmed around them and snapped pictures after pictures. At one point during the party, she had talked about her job as a photographer and went to her room to grab her camera as well as a polaroid camera. The polaroid camera was making its way around, everybody snapped a picture at some point, some sillier than others, but always really funny.

"Hello, hello, hello. We're right in time for the part-ey!" Savannah and her Betas rounded the house, in the best party mood. Their welcoming was heartfelt and cheerful. Her black-haired Beta dashed past her. "Hello! My name is Carmen but I love this dance and have to join!" She yelled and settled next to Mason to dance with them. "Oi, Carmen, way to make an impression!" Paola laughed. "Let her be, Paola, enjoy the time. I'm Beatriz everyone. Hello." Beatriz was the oldest of the bunch but still dressed very colorful and lively. Savannah meanwhile happily hugged Luka and Liam. "Glad you could make it!" Luka greeted her and she kissed his cheek. "Grab yourself drinks and enjoy your stay at casa Barrett." "Oh, I will." She disappeared to greet everyone if they knew them or not. Luka leaned on the backrest of the chair next to Liam. "That was a good idea." Liam looked around. His friends were all laughing. He saw Caden sitting with Jade, Tim, and Delaney and they were laughing like crazy about something. Ever talked with Simon. Theo had sat next to Holden and they were involved in a conversation where sometimes Sandro joined from the other side when he wasn't talking with Mike. Brett had pulled Nolan on the makeshift dancefloor and the new couple was laughing. "Can't remember when I've last seen them so boisterous", he admitted. "Yeah, me neither." Luka had watched his pack as well. He smiled gently. "I think some new friendships started tonight. And a complete platonic crush from one of my best friends on your boyfriend's car." Liam chuckled. "Theo loves his truck and is very proud of it. I think he will entertain this crush." "Good, good." They looked at each other and laughed before Luka took the last swig from his beer bottle. "Want another one as well?" He asked Liam. "I'll come with you." Liam didn't plan on just sitting in his chair and watch the party without getting involved.

The two werewolves ventured into the kitchen where Luka pulled two beers from the fridge and handed Liam one. "I must admit, it feels good to make connections with other supernaturals again. Ones who actually live close by. Our nearest companioned pack lives in Canada", Luka let Liam know and opened his bottle. "We have the ones at the lake but that's our pack. And then maybe my old pack in Beacon Hills." Although Liam was not completely sure where he stood with Scott. They were friends and helped each other but both Alphas focused on their packs and didn't have much contact for the moment. Maybe this was also part of growing up. "I don't believe in dragging others into my fights. But it's good to know who will be by your side when push comes to shove." And could Liam not relate to that opinion. He had been through so much already and people he initially trusted turned on him, so he valued loyalty very high. He nodded.

"There you are." Maddie and Savannah walked into the kitchen. "Are you hiding from us?" "Yeah, that's the point of the whole party. To hide from you", Liam replied and Maddie gave him a playful shove. "Don't get funny with me, mister." Liam laughed and raised both hands. "Alright, alright." Savannah slapped Luka's arm hard. "How could you?" "Ow!" He stared at her with an incredulous laugh. "How could I what?" "Not tell me what a fine hunk Holden is!" He sighed. "Sava, should I ever talk about the guy I grew up with, the guy who's like my brother, as a fine hunk, please send me to the nearest asylum!" To the end of the sentence, Luka's voice had a fake pleading tone. Liam and Maddie laughed. Savannah was still on his case. "Is he single?" "Everybody in my pack is currently single. By all means, shoot your shot."

Despite his "puppy ways", Liam rarely met anybody he wholeheartedly liked and trusted after a short amount of time. It was probably his best-kept secret and he was willing to bet not even Theo knew. Liam was good at appearance, had learned it after his childhood and after his diagnosis. Living as a werewolf only solidified that. Only if you were willing to give him something significant in return, he warmed up to you faster. Byron had managed that, for example. With his open character and willingness to take Liam seriously. Mason back in the day too. Because he never shied away from Liam and didn't care what other kids said about him. And now the other three supernatural leaders as well. Maybe Maya was right when she said it was good Liam had found something not immediately pack related. No, she was definitively right.

"You okay?" Maddie gently nudged Liam's arm. "You're quiet." Her concern was touching and Liam smiled softly. "Just thinking. Maya said this morning she's happy I found something without other pack mates with you. Apparently, I focused too much on the pack and don't have hobbies without my Betas and my Betas were worried about me." Liam kept his tone light, he didn't want them to think he was complaining about Maya. Luckily his new friends didn't seem surprised. Savannah looked at Luka and Meadow. "I know I did the same, how about you?" Casual question. "Yeah", Luka confirmed. "It's what I call the Alpha hole." Maddie debated on the question a little bit more: "Liam, every leader, every good leader, of a supernatural group has done that. You have to establish things first. For yourself and the ones following you. So everybody knows which direction it's going. It's normal." "In this regard, the leader is like a parent. The kids come first", Luka chimed in, "Their happiness and wellbeing come first, then comes you." "Even if you take over from another Alpha and want to continue their type of leadership, you are your own person and you need to figure out things on your own. It's a strange sense of belonging and loneliness at the same time. You have to evaluate which way to go, which direction to take. It can feel overwhelming. The proverbial image of a hole fits very well", Savannah agreed. Liam had to chuckle at that. "I'm good at falling into holes." Yet he wondered: "So that doesn't mean I made a colossal mistake in my early Alpha life?" "No. It means you take being an Alpha seriously. A very good trait if you want to be a good Alpha", Maddie affirmed. Liam huffed. "Will this ever stop? Focusing on the pack so much?" "You will get better at balancing it more", Luka promised with a comforting smile. Liam believed him. All of them really. Savannah, ever one to use an opportunity, was already onto another thing. "But, just to ensure all of us don't get so caught up with our groups and forget ourselves, how about regular hanging outs? Just the four of us? Getting something to eat or going to the movies? Bi-weekly? At least once a month?" "I'm game. When I'm not traveling for work, I will come." Luka liked the idea. "It's a good idea. Count me in", Liam also decided. Maddie nodded as well. Savannah looked pleased.

"There's the Alpha Squad." Mike showed up in the doorway, polaroid camera in hand. "Alpha Squad? I'm not really an Alpha", Meadow corrected gently. He shrugged. "You're leading a supernatural group and you hang with three Alphas. To simplify it, we will call you Alpha as well. So Alpha Squad, say cheese!" He raised the camera and took a picture of the four persons in the kitchen. "Huh, can't really argue with that", Maddie admitted. "Well then, Alpha Squad it is." Liam thought it sounded fun.

________________________________

Author's note:

The members of the other groups in no particular order:

The werewolves:

Delaney Barrett

Bryn Yates

Holden Welling

Simon Welling

Lynn Erikson

Alessandro "Sandro" Townsend

William "Will" Murral

The were cheetahs:

Pilar Merediz

Beatriz Ramos

Carmen Diaz

Paola Catala

The vampire:

Jade

______________________________________

It's a good feeling to have them all come together. Liam found new friends without losing his old ones, I think this is important too. Right now, life is really good for the core pack. What will happen next? Did you like the chapter? What do you think will happen? I'm curious to hear from you.

#A tale written with fangs and claws #Thiam #Morning Dew Pack series #alpha!liam #My writing

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bus82diaries · 2 years

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#1: 7 Years in the Desert

It's 5:24 Am. You're standing in a parking garage and devouring a cranberry orange muffin. They put a lot of cranberry in this shit and it's doing its job. You were out with friends 6 hours ago, enjoying your first cocktail in a while. You were celebrating small victories, humble successes that seem big to you, and also reflecting and atoning for past mistakes. Some out loud, most silent, because everyone in society is into some form of persecution. You spent the year working at 4 bars. One that broke your heart (that you really broke yourself but struggle to admit it), one that was cool but just a fling, one that became the home that we all must leave one day, and the one that let your dumb ass manage it. You step into the office. A big ass wine bar on the outskirts. You play some music and start counting a shit ton of bottes, hoping to get all your job work done so you can learn how to make a web page for your blog that's you've been aggressively marketing. Counting the entire store still takes longer than you would like.

8 Years in the Desert is the name of a wine from a producer that had been banned for making wine for 8 years. Just a lil fun fact. Great wine. The name reflects my life, and my life’s drought of love and awakening. I’m serious when I say things really only started working out this year. I personally could not blame anybody but myself. I started this year serving at one wine bar, and ended it managing another, becoming a beginner Sommelier, attaining a salary for the first time. It’s a small thing, but a sign that I know how to move upward after years of sinking deeper. My career and personal life are diametrically opposed; I also lost many people in my personal life this year. While I was finally becoming successful, I was becoming unsuccessful in the way that truly matters. That will be the juice of this peach to unpack. It’s been one of those years I guess. At this point, I’ve got to say it is what it is. I often find myself rehearsing platitudes in my head. Such as; ”There’s No Going Back ________ Dec 31, 2021 11:59 PM Serenaded by Bobby Diamond, with a stomach full of Chianti, Eggplant, Black Pepper Sauce, followed by Tiramisu and a Disaronno-Gingerale (Bobby’s drink of choice). Happy New Year

#Bus82Diaries #winebarnights

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petroltogo · 3 years

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What I meant to do was write a short little Byakuran POV that gives you more insight into how activation and deactivation work. What I actually wrote was a lot of Byakuran POV but not that. Oops?

The world is made of patterns. They are everywhere, govern life on every level, from the habits of a single individual to the way traffic moves on the central roads of a megapolis to the way a country is run, the way an entire society functions — everywhere Byakuran looks, patterns stare back at him.

Some are obvious, a glaring color that is uncomfortable to look at directly amidst a world shaded in grey. Some are subtle, a gentle flow you can barely perceive with the naked eye and all the more influential for it. Don’t get Byakuran wrong because there’s one thing about patterns that keeps tripping people up, keeps messing with them and holding them back from seeing what seems so painfully obvious to Byakuran, it might as well have been written in glowing, orange letters on the sky: Patterns aren’t a pre-determined backing form that decides what size and shapes the muffins are gonna turn out to be. They’re fluid. Patterns break and stutter and readjust every day, every moment. They are deterministic and adaptive both, malleable to circumstances and chance, yet they ultimately prevail. They grow and they stumble and take a sudden step to the left because someone or something falls out of synch — but they always, always continue to flow.

It would be incorrect to say that Byakuran see predict the future because what he actually does is see a future. Every time a pattern catches his attention, every time a new one settles into the world around him, Byakuran sees it and he can use that to predict the most likely courses of action. Can see where that pattern will lead, what will come of it, which one will triumph over the other patterns already in place.

[continues under the cut]

Of course patterns break. Patterns die away. Quietly. Their potential unseen, the lost opportunities unmourned. Sometimes it’s chance, sometimes it’s a single person’s disruptive will. Sometimes it’s Byakuran’s when he doesn’t like the outcomes a setting pattern will lead to, the subtle mood it eludes.

Here’s the thing: Byakuran couldn’t always see the patterns. Couldn’t always pick them out with deadly accuracy as though they light up in individually colored fairy lights just for him. Couldn’t always close his eyes and listen to the soft hum they give of, an almost inaudible vibration that conveys a pattern’s character in a way even Byakuran with all his intellect and multiple languages to fall back on struggles to put into words.

It’s a bit like they’re talking to him, sharing their essence with him. Like the world whispers and if you only take the time to pause and listen carefully, you’ll hear what it says and you get to pick which ones voices you like the sound of and help them grow, help them outshine all the others and so the way you speak back reshapes the world’s very voice right before your eyes. It’s a heady feeling.

But when Byakuran first started, it wasn’t about power. Wasn’t about manipulating the sound that colors all the world’s open spaces. It was— It was just something to do. The patterns were Byakuran’s first friends.

Because seeing the patterns isn’t a gift, a talent Byakuran was born with or woke up with one day. It’s an ability he’s worked hard for, one he trains and hones daily, even now that Byakuran has reached a point where he can’t turn it off, can’t stop seeing the patterns, can’t play at ignorance about what the world screams at him. Just the way Byakuran likes it. He prefers too loud over too quiet, always has.

Byakuran shares that particular trait with a lot of other lab kids and it’s not the only one. Like the majority of the thousands of super kids that are legally or illegally created in laboratories all over the world every year, Byakuran spends his early childhood years locked away in an isolated room with little to no human contact. Like most lab kids, he understands on some level that he is human — better than most of them, probably, because hello, unparalleled genius here — but doesn’t live among them. Always on the outside, looking in.

[Mimicking what comes natural to civilian children everywhere. Never completely silencing the sliver of doubt that you’re faking, that you’re acting out a play you never connected with on an emotional level and that terrible, terrible question that never lets go of you entirely: What if there’s some things you just can’t recreate in a lab? What if there’s something human you’re lacking?]

It all starts as part of Byakuran’s education. The fact that he’s severely limited in his social interactions means that his teachers put a lot of effort into teaching him human behavior from afar. Byakuran learns basic psychology, watches age-appropriate media, learns to tell the differences between family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances and strangers through books and lectures and a lot of videos. He learns how humans function, how they interact, what type of behavior is considered widely appropriate and what isn’t — comedies are invaluable for that — and how social rules differ among cultures and varying backgrounds, learns how to interpret facial expressions and gestures and how to copy them.

And because Byakuran is a genius, he starts seeing patterns in all of it. And because the patterns follow clear rules, obey a logic all of their own, make sense of human behaviors in a way observations alone don’t, he starts to focus on them. Identifying patterns helps Byakuran predict how a conversation goes, helps him foresee how people move and act in a way his lessons don’t and he wants that understanding. He needs it.

[He’s so very bored.]

With endless free time on his hands and the added incentive of better understanding humanity, Byakuran dives into those patterns head first. He progresses in leaps and bounds, expands and expands, goes beyond biology, neurology and psychology into physics and mathematics and sees them everywhere.

[Byakuran lives in a world of his own making, an eternal outsider to life bustling a few hundred kilometers away from the estate he’s trapped in, and so it takes him years, almost a full decade to realize how far he’s gone, how far he’s removed himself from everyone else. If they ever were on the same plane to begin with. When Byakuran is twelve and his teachers have run out of things to teach him, he learns that other people don’t see the patterns the way he does, don’t hear the world the way he does, but it’s not until Byakuran is fifteen and steps outside for the first time in his life, partakes in the real world that he really gets it.

Seeing the patterns doesn’t make it easier to move with them, follow them, be a part of them. If anything it makes it harder. Like Byakuran’s peaked behind the curtains of the universe and by doing so has lost his ability to plead ignorance. And it wouldn’t be a problem, not really, because Byakuran has never had any interest in ignorance anyway.

Except that humans feel it. Byakuran doesn’t know how or why, doesn’t know what’s missing when he follows every line in the script to the letter, but somehow, instinctively the people around him know that he’s cheating. That he’s different. That he’s not moving to the same rhythm as they do. And every time Byakuran gets distracted by a shiny new pattern, every time he loses focus for a second, he stops following along and that alone is enough to disrupt the patterns that never settle right around his shoulders.

So he stops trying. Eventually. Fitting in doesn’t suit him and following along the same patterns everyone else sticks to gets boring fast anyway. Being disruptive on the other hand, whether by accident or by design? That turns out to be fun.

Besides. Disrupting patterns to create some excitement is its own kind of pattern, isn’t it?]

#ReRe writes #this verse refuses to stop bothering me #this could've been a villain's origin story 'verse #flip a coin verse #Byakuran #Katekyou Hitman Reborn #KHR #exploring Byakuran's backstory bit by bit #Byakuran: tries to learn to be human #there's some lowkey seriously concerning implications here that i'll probably explore in full later on #because believe it or not it's all about super ability theory #fic #additional scene #not part of the main fic but should be canon compliant #and by canon i mean with the main fic not with canon

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eventidespirits · 3 years

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Name: Laci Lydia Brighton-Lee

Nicknames/Aliases: None.

True Age: 41

Apparent Age: 22

Emotional Age: 6-22 (average of about 13-17)

Concept: Age Sliding Oracle

Species: Vampire (Revenant)

Gender: Cis Girl

Sexuality: Asexual Heteroromantic

Birthday: January 8th 1976

Death Day: October 31st 1998

Residence: Santa Marta, California

Universe: Primarily Original Universe but also Vampire the Masquerade (where she is Clan Malkavian).

Appearance:

Height: 4'7

Build: Petite and quite thin, Laci looks almost frail to most people and can be easily mistaken for a teen or preteen. She has a short torso and long limbs for her height.

Face Shape: Laci has a rounded face with a pointed chin, full cheeks and high cheekbones.

Eye Color/Shape: bright amber/Hazel. Deep-set with heavy, almost droopy eyelids and very thick lashes. Laci usually has a sort of sleepy look to her eyes, accentuated by her permanent dark circles and under eye bags.

Hair Color/Style: About shoulder length with a natural 2B/2C curl pattern. Her hair is naturally black but she has a badly bleached portion in the front that looks bright orange. Has very short, somewhat uneven bangs and her hair is a little shorter in the front than the back. Usually worn up in pigtails or twin buns.

Skin Tone/Texture: Unnaturally smooth and pale with an under-saturated yellow undertone. Doesn't look particularly healthy.

Distinguishing Features: Laci is very short and this is usually the first thing people notice about her -- she also has very large, expressive eyes. She has both eyebrows pierced, a nostril piercing on her left side and snakebites. Both ears have triple lobe piercings and two helix piercings.

Posture: Depends on her current emotional age but as a general rule, Laci's posture is somewhat folded in on herself, somewhat shy and insecure. When she's at an older emotional age, her posture is more confident and open. Laci's body language is dreamy and distant, her steps usually slow and unsure. She walks through the world like she's in an endless dream.

Voice: Somewhat nasal but with a distinct huskiness/vocal fry -- her actual pitch is somewhat higher and definitely comes across as a little bit childish.

Clothing Style: Laci is very much a goth -- she's almost always wearing at least one piece of clothing with mesh or fishnet (she doesn't like lace as much) -- the primary colors in her wardrobe are black, charcoal gray and purple, with occasional hints of neon green. She prefers pants and shorts with tights over skirts and dresses. She tends to prefer lays -- wearing tank tops over mesh shirts under hooded sweat shirts and so on. She has a fondness for collars and very high platform boots. An average outfit for Laci would be a pair of shorts with striped tights and knee-high socks, 4 inch platform boots, a mesh shirt under a tank top and a short sleeved hoodie with several bracelets, fingerless gloves and a collar of some sort.

Notable Mannerisms: Laci is often chewing on her lower lip or playing with her piercings. She often curls her hair around her fingers or plays with the hem of her short. Despite being a vampire and getting no real benefit or harm from it, Laci still smokes clove cigarettes (a habit she had as a human). Laci also has a tendency to sort of bounce in place when she's bored.

Skills:

Physical: Self-Defense, gymnastics, pickpocketing, small firearms

Social: Social Media, Bullshitting, Sweet-talking, Blame-Shifting, Persuasion

Talents: breaking & entering, stealth, being cute, dancing

Knowledges: Santa Marta Underground, Streets & Back Alleys, Hacking, Computers, Social Media manipulation, explosives, Revenant Signs & Grafitti

Hobbies: Pickpocketing assholes at cafes/coffeeshops, preventing the apocalypse, clubbing, coloring books, dancing, photography/instagram

Special: The Sight, precognition, increased speed & strength, darkvision/nightsight, some minor telepathy/empathy, some emotional influence, "immortality"

Psyche

Strengths: Clever, quick-witted, good at lying, adaptive, quick-learner, strong sense of justice, compassionate, sweet, dedicated/tenacious, in touch with her emotions, good with kids, generally empathetic

Weaknesses: overly-emotional, immature, irresponsible, stubborn, impatient, overly curious, has trouble understanding rationality, has difficulty understanding the motives/perspectives of others even if she can understand their feelings, hot-headed, prone to fits of mania and/or depression, way too fucking blunt at times, bad at explaining herself, bad at understanding her own motives at times.

Mental Health Issues: Bipolar Disorder, Age Regression, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Possible ADHD?

Goals: Stop the God-Damned Apocalypse, have fun, make friends, help people

Guiding Philosophies: Do your best to preserve life but know that in the end you'll have to hurt people to stop the apocalypse, try your best to make people laugh and improve their lives, make the world a better place, punish evil whenever you see it, offer help to the helpless and compassion to the weak and downtrodden of society, bash the fash

Sense of Humor: Laci delights in pulling pranks on her friends or making absolutely random, inane comments that leave others confused. She also likes puns and dumb memes.

Overall Personality:Chaotic and trickster-ish. Laci is an enigma to most of the people around her, often including herself. She is bright and spontaneous most of the time but can become somber and serious at the drop of a hat. Her general mood and energy are frantic, high energy and unpredictable. When she comes to care about someone, she's incredibly protective of them to the extent that she can be and will do about anything to make them happy or keep them safe.

Deep down, Laci is frustrated with her inability to remember most of her human life and desperately wishes she could regain it -- however, most of her efforts are currently focused on preventing the Awakening of a being she knows only as The Myriad Eyes, which Laci believes will cause the end of the world if it does wake from it's slumber. Her methods of doing so are...erratic and often nonsensical due to her lack of general knowledge about the thing, seeing only glimpses of it through her precognition and sight.

Little Laci: Mostly the same as Big Laci (described above) but less able to focus on her goals, more dependent on others and more emotional.

-In Love: Laci can't remember being in love. She knows vaguely that she was dating someone who had broken up with her just before she became a vampire but more than that is blurry. When she does crush on someone (which is rare) she's usually very shy around them, having difficulty speaking and becoming very awkward (think moe anime girl)

-Under Stress: Erratic, irritable and far more emotional than usual. Laci becomes inconsolably upset when under stress very quickly -- prone to lashing out in anger and having complete breaks from reality of the stress is severe enough. Stress is also the number one trigger for Laci's age regression, the more intense the stress, the further back she slides.

-Alone: Laci doesn't really get to be alone due to being haunted by her best friend as a human who she accidentally killed after her Change...When it's just Laci and Amy, Laci can be very quiet and withdrawn, just focusing on whatever task is at hand and desperately hoping Amy doesn't decide to cause any problems.

Life

Best Memory: Becoming part of the Revenant Vampire Community under Santa Marta

Worst Memory: Waking up after being Changed and killing her best friend.

Biggest Accomplishment: Hitting 100 cellphones stolen from assholes at Eventide Coffee

Prized Possession: her spiderweb mug

Favorite Color: Black, Purple, Lime Green

Favorite Food:

-Mortal Food: Mocha Frappe, Triple Chocolate Muffins, Cherry Soda, Monster Energy, Tiramisu, Fried Oreos

-Blood: She doesn't care, all the bagged stuff tastes like shit anyway.

Favorite Scents: Cloves, Cotton Candy, Bubblegum, Gunpowder, Fresh Coffee, Freshly Baked Bread, Coconut, Vanilla, Lime, Grapefruit

Favorite Songs: Hunger - Ayria, The Girl Anachronism - Dresden Dolls, I'm So Sick - Flyleaf, Counting Bodies Like Sheep - A Perfect Circle, Looking Glass - The Birthday Massacre, Placebo Effect - Siouxsie and the Banshees, Amnesia - Mind.In.A.Box

Can’t Leave Home Without: Her phone, her cigarette case, a few packets of blood

History

Birthplace: Santa Marta, California

Childhood:: Laci can remember her fifth birthday where she had her first vision of the future and of the party being ended prematurely. She also remembers starting therapy at twelve.

Adolescence: Laci remembers her first day of middle school -- which went rather badly, remembers going to anti-prom and getting kicked out of her parents' house at 18.

Adulthood: What little Laci can remember of her adulthood, she was working as a barista at a local coffee shop while working with a group of friends on a local anarchist zine. She was dating one of the editors on the zine until he cheated on her and broke up with her on October 20th 1998. During a manic episode that followed, she cut her hair and bleached her bangs (with the intent of dyeing them purple). She and her best friend were kidnapped by a vampire outside a local goth club on Halloween.The vampire would turn Laci and leave Amy in the room with her to kill during her first feeding. The trauma of her change (which occurred fully within only three hours) and subsequently murdering her best friend seems to have induced age regression and severe amnesia in Laci. She cannot recall the name or appearance of her Sire or even the majority of her life, outside of small snippets from here and there.

Recent: Laci has been living in Santa Marta in the Revenant Community since they found her in 2002. It's not sure if she's actually part of the Revenant bloodline or not but they don't really care about that. She's got a small apartment in Bram Park, not far from the Sidetracks bar, which contains one of the main entrances to the Underground.

Relationships

Family: Sanity (Adopted Sister, a fellow vampire)

Lovers: None

Friends: Art ??? (a local hacker and vampire), Alex Hyde (Revenant Vampire, clubbing and goth buddy), Louis DeFantome (Siren Vampire, local goth artist), Maggie Rodriguez (Local Witch)

Enemies: Amy (Ghost, haunting), Ella DuChamps (Local cultist), The Myriad Eyes (???)

Acquaintances: ???

Resources

Income: Working Poor

Vehicles: None

Residences: A 1br/1ba apartment in the attic of a Victorian house that's been converted into a triplex in the Bram Park neighborhood.

#about: laci #laci #laci tag #muse profile #original lore rp #rp character #vampire #vtm

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 years

Text

Grateful

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Story with smut, M/F/M, no stucky. Oral sex. OVER 18 ONLY

A/N: 4K Commission for: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester

Summary: You are feeling inadequate in your relationship with Steve and Bucky.

The coffee shop was busy as you navigated through the small afternoon crowd to get to the display of muffins, stomach growling for something blueberry or chocolate- maybe both if they did that. You reached the display and bent down, eyes beckoning back and forth between the blueberry and chocolate chips. Deciding it was a self love day, you opted for both and wait your turn patiently in line. It smelled like brewing coffee and baking goods, and when your turn was up, your cell phone started to ring. Quickly, you ordered the two muffins and coffee, before handing over your debit card and scrambling to pick it up.

It was Bucky and you smiled as you said hello. “Did you guys just get back?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, he sounded a bit tired but his voice warm.

“You sound tired, are you headed to the apartment?”

After a quick briefing with the team he said. He mentioned picking up take out on his way home and when you asked if Steve was around, he handed over the cell to his friend. Steve’s voice was warm and steady, he asked how you were and if you missed him. The café had become loud and you tried to whisper that you did, but he said he could not hear you and you laughed.

“Of course, I missed you, I always miss the two of you.”

“Good, we’ll be home soon,” he promised, excusing himself. “The meeting is started, see you soon, honey.”

The two of you hung up just in time for your order to be called – leaving a tip, you gathered the coffee and bag of muffins, claiming a spot at a table near the large bay windows. The weather was becoming warmer, summer was just around the corner and the thought of less layering made you sad; you loved the jackets and scarves, not to mention Bucky and Steve both looked great in wool winter coats. Bucky in a black one, while Steve opted for a dark blue coat.

Relaxing in the seat, you took a sip from the coffee and eased into your daily social media feed, scrolling through photos and alternating between the blueberry and chocolate muffins. Nothing out of the ordinary, except you had been tagged in a photo by Steve, who had posted it this morning. Clicking on the notification, you saw that he had taken an aerial photo of the city, must have been from the quinjet. You were tagged in the corner of the photo and the captioned read: Finally coming home to my girl.

It was sweet and it made you smile, Steve was such a romantic and your relationship with him was public – the thing the public did not know, and only the people close to you did, was that Bucky was also in the mix. It had happened organically over a course of two years, it started off as mutual friendship after you were hired to work with the Avengers on PR stuff and media control. You had to conduct interviews with each of the members to get a feel of their character, Steve was a bit apprehensive at first but the two of you hit it off rather quickly. You had a pretty easy-going sense of humor and Steve could not resist but Bucky on the other hand was a different story.

He was stoic and shy, so you asked him to meet you outside the facility for the interview – you picked a stop near the lake and just talked to him, mostly asking one layer questions until he opened up more and things started to meld after that. The two men sought your company, especially since you practically lived at the facility – damage control was a constant need, but slowly you turned into almost like an assistant to the Avengers. You helped them normalize their lives, they were superheroes, but the media acted like they were celebrities – gossip and tabloids were constantly coming up with stories about them that were untrue. It was your job to paint them in a colorful light – not that that was hard.

Enjoying your muffin, you clicked on the comments and smiled at all the positive greetings, welcoming Steve back to the city, but the further you scrolled down, it seemed the more negative. Just like a celebrity, huh? The good and bad things people will say, Steve had tough skin, but you did not. There were mountains of comments on how Steve could do way better which you could only assume was from people who had clicked on your profile – it was private, but your profile photo still showed. It was a typical posing photo taken outside a bar Steve, Bucky and you frequent. Bucky had taken it and told you to pose with your hand so your hip, you did, and he liked it so much he had a wallet size print of it on the dashboard of his car – the man adored you.

Yet, people were cruel and you were dating two gorgeous men (although they only knew about one of them), and people were quick to point out all your flaws; you were not skinny enough, tall enough and did not live up to the male gaze standard society pushed. It hurt, even though you wish it had not.

Sighing, you closed the app and tried to focus on the two muffins waiting to be consumed – except now, you were not feeling so hungry. Gazing around the café, you could not stop from comparing yourself to all the women walking around. Feeling insecure, and hating it, you quickly packed up and left – hailing a cab back to the apartment.

When you got home, the apartment was quiet; it was a two bedroom layout that was nestled in the middle of Brooklyn – a place you found to help Steve and Bucky feel at home, and also a place for the three of you to escape from the facility. Most nights the three of you shared a bed but occasionally Bucky would become sleepless and have nightmares, so he requested his own room for those times. But ever since friendship turned into something more, those nightmares were few and far.

“Parker,” you cooed out, closing the door behind as you walked into the apartment – it was quiet until you heard the pitter pattering of small paws on the wood. It was Parker, the orange cat Bucky and you adopted. Steve was more of a dog person, but it did not take much convincing once Parker was home.

“Hey, buddy.”

You kneeled and started to pet him, ignoring the buzzing on your cell – the whole cab ride home you were getting tagged in photos that paparazzi had taken of Steve and you over the last year. Again, superheroes were treated like celebrities and were followed around, even when they were trying to be normal – therefore you understood why Bucky stayed out of the public. Steve, well, everyone knew who he was in and out of the suit – so he learned to tolerate the photo stalking, although he was known to give a stern look here and there.

“Come, Parker, let’s get you some food.”

The cat followed you to the kitchen and meowed as you took out his food, following you to his food dish. As you fed him, your cell buzzed again, so you gave in and walked over to the kitchen counter. It was a text from Bucky, saying the meeting was running later than he anticipated and the two would be home soon with food. You wanted to reply but you had an itch to go back on Instagram, so you did.

Boy, you wish you hadn’t.

Twenty minutes later, you were on the couch in the living scrolling through countless photos of Steve and you, and a few of Bucky. There were posts dedicated to the notion that Steve Rogers aka Captain America would ever date someone like you – someone who was short and curvy (not that false curvy that was just ass and boobs). You were not a Victoria's Secret model, let’s just put it that way and while you were perfectly fine with your body, people could be hurtful with their words. Especially when they could hide behind a screen.

There was a photo in particular that someone had taken of Bucky and you in a coffee shop, the two of you lingering near a window somewhere in Brooklyn – he was smiling at you, the one he often saved for you, real sincere and quiet, if a smile could be quiet. You were holding a coffee and smiling right back at him, and the comments were cruel.

He must be faking that smile; he has to put up with his teammate’s girlfriend.

She’s basic AF

HOW IS THIS CAP’S GF??

You remembered that day, it had been the first time in weeks that Bucky had decided to venture outside the block of your apartment. He asked if you would occupancy him to get some coffee and Steve urged you to go, kissing you goodbye on the forehead as he held Parker in his arms. That day, Buck dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, black glove on his left hand. He quietly pointed out places he knew back when he was a kid, noting how much things had and hadn’t changed. You listened contently and when you were inside the café, he told you he loved you – it was the first time he had said it since the three of you all moved in together and he mentioned how much he wanted to kiss you but what would the world think about him kissing Captain America’s girl?

“I’m your girl too, James.”

He smiled then and you smiled back at him, then he noticed a woman taking a photo from outside the café window.

You sat up on the couch and glared at the screen in your hand – Steve always said not to get carried away with the negativity and even offered to take down his social media. A part of you wanted him to, but you knew it made him feel connected to the world, so you said it was okay. Turning off the cell, you placed it on the coffee table adjacent to the couch and laid down. Your hand ran over your stomach, poking at the pockets of fat under your shirt and sighed thinking about how perfect Bucky and Steve’s bodies were – perfectly sculptured works of art. It made you feel unworthy and you didn’t like that feeling, so you decided to just sleep until two arrived.

…

“She’s not answering my texts, maybe she fell asleep.”

“Natasha just texted me, she’s been fighting with people on your photo again.”

Steve frowned and searched for his cell, Bucky watching as they waited for the elevator door to open. The latter was holding take out from the Chinese place you loved so much while Steve’s eyebrows scrunched as he read over what was happening on his last post.

“What the hell is wrong with people, Buck?”

“They’ve always been the same, nothing’s changed much, has it?”

Steve sighed and followed Bucky into the elevator, and when the doors closed, he looked over to his best friend. “I hate bullies.”

Parker met the pair in the small foyer of their apartment, the cat purred and rubbed against each of their leg before Bucky picked him up and followed Steve further into the apartment. They saw you sleeping on the couch, Steve sat on the coffee table and picked up your cell when it began to buzz. Bucky gave him a look as he tapped on the Instagram notification and saw that you were being tagged in awful posts. It made him angry and Bucky didn’t have to look to understand, instead he walked around the couch to you and sat on the edge, effortlessly shifting your body. He reached down to touch your face and he smiled, looking at Steve.

“It’s good to be home.”

Steve grinned. “Especially when we have her to come home to. I got to say Buck, ever since we made the move in with her, things have never felt better.”

“Agreed.”

Bucky looked down at you, Parker still in his arms, and leaned forward to kiss your cheek, his lips on your skin stirred you awake. You jumped up in surprise. He grinned as you brushed back the hair from his face and looked over to Steve.

“You’re back!”

Parker jumped out of Bucky’s arms into yours and he nestled on top of your lap, purring as you petted his back. Steve asked if you were hungry and mentioned the takeout he left in the kitchen, you said no and the two exchanged glances. Steve held up your cell and apologized for tagging you in the photo.

“I should have known better; people tend to show their worst online.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not, you shouldn’t have to worry about this.”

Bucky reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. He reminded you that people didn’t know your life and that at the end of the day, it only mattered what you thought of yourself – and a little of what Steve and he thought, he said jokingly. It made you smile, his sweetness but your brain hyper focused on the result of reading all those comments – no one thought you were good enough for Steve or Bucky. No one. Both men sensed that your smile and assurance that you were fine was false, so they exchanged a knowing glance.

“You brought food, yes? I’m hungry.”

“In due time,” Steve answered, taking Parker from your lap.

You eyed him and asked what he meant, but Bucky gently grabbed you by the chin, forcing your gaze to move to him. Steve’s footsteps were heard going down the hall, and you wondered where he had gone until Bucky kissed you gently on the lips. His lips caught you by surprise, but you melted back into the couch as he pushed you down, his body hovered over yours. You could not help but groan when his tongue played against yours and his hand moved to caress the side of your face – Bucky’s reputation as the Winter Soldier was the opposite of his ways of being a lover. He was gentle and tended to your needs before his own.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered into your ear, giving the edge of your lobe a loving nip. You groaned again, gripping his shoulder with both hands as his lips moved from your ear down to your neck, where he pressed little kisses until you grasped in pleasure. “That’s my girl.”

“She’s both our girl, Buck.” Steve appeared in the room, now dressed in gray sweats and nothing else. Bucky stopped his kissing and got up from the couch, saying something about putting the takeout in the oven to keep warm. You sat up and regained your breath as Steve sat next to you on the couch – his smile was boyish, but his body was one of a man. Your eyes never could help but take him in every time he walked into a room and it always surprised you when you were the one he was walking too.

“People have nothing better to do than break down those they have no reach to.”

“Wise words, Rogers. How did you get so smart?”

He shrugged, using his arm to pull you into his side. His fingers pressed into the side of your arm and he held you tight against his body. Your throat clenched with the feel of his skin and before you could even say something smart and witty, he had you on his lap. He was fast, like that, could have you coming in seconds if he really wanted to. Mostly, he liked to take his time.

You looked down at him, his head dipped back against the couch. His blue eyes were staring up at you, like a shy schoolboy. Touching the side of his face, you asked how you got so lucky. He shook his head and kissed your hand, placing it on his bare chest.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Bring yourself down, it hurts me to hear those things from you.”

“I won’t say them anymore.”

That’s not what he meant, but he knew no matter what he or Bucky said, they needed to show you how much they love you. So, he adjusted you on his lap, your knees nestled into the cushion of the sofa. Both his hands went down to your waist and he called out to Bucky, who walked into the living room. Your heart pounded as he made his way to the couch, settling down next to his friend; his smile made you smile.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, his eyes softening with your words. He wanted you to know how special he felt when you gifted him with those words, with the light you brought into his life.

“I love you,” he mused back.

“We both love you.”

Steve pulled you down to his and kissed you passionately, his hands on your face. He whispered that you were the only one for him and no one could take that away. You felt his truth in his kisses and then you felt him hard under you, which excited you. But then he stopped kissing you, your eyes still closed when you felt Bucky pull you down to him. Your eyes opened to Bucky’s, who pulled you over his body, your back against his chest.

“We’re going to show you how much we love you,” he whispered, his fingers dancing down the front of your stomach to the waistband of the joggers you were waiting. The excitement made your toes warm as he tugged at the strings, loosening them up a bit. Steve watched as Bucky’s hand disappeared under the pants and you moaned quietly when his fingers made their way under your underwear. He touched you slowly at first, hungrily pawning at you until Steve stood up and eagerly pushed away the coffee table away from the couch. He positioned himself on the floor, kneeling in front of the couch. Bucky spread his legs, using his hands to do the same to yours after Steve pulled off your sweats and panties.

The cool air made you shudder until Steve placed both his palm on top of your thighs, as Bucky kissed your neck and his hands roamed under your shirt to your breasts. His touch was a bit rough as he pushed aside the top of your bra to get to your nipples, pinching them slightly. Your hips jerked up but you weren’t sure if it was because of Bucky or the fact that Steve’s head was now buried between your thighs, his mouth on you. It was probably both.

You moaned loudly and wiggled under Steve’s mouth, the feeling of his tongue licking you gave way to wanting him to stop and wanting him to never stop – it was so intense it almost hurt as you cried out. Your head rested against Bucky’s chest as his hold on your breast tightened. There was no control when you were with them, it was almost unfair but that thought always drifted away with every touch of their mouths and hands.

“We love you,” Bucky whispered, his teeth pulled at your earlobe and you whimpered. “You’re the only one we want, right Steve?”

He didn’t verbally answer, but his tongue lapped faster at your clit and that was enough to speak more than volumes. You called out both their names and the two men worked faster, Bucky nibbling on your neck and Steve including his fingers in the quest to finish you off. It was insanely disorienting, but that’s what their love felt to you – two large forces constantly circling you, protecting you and more often than not, guiding you to a level of happiness you could have never imagined. You loved them deeply and profoundly, it felt implicitly wrong at times, for them to feel the same way.

Yet, here they were – after a long mission and weeks of preparation for said mission. They had come home, to relax and have some form of normalcy to find you in need of comfort, and they do so without hesitation or complaint. They do it because they simply love you and had for a while now. They do what needs to be done, so you can feel love because nothing could ever be enough to show you the gratitude both felt. Gratitude towards you for choosing them both, for seeing that they needed you more than you needed them and for making space in your heart for the both of them.

“Come one, sweetheart,” Steve purred and lifted you from under, your ass in his hands as he dug deeper with his tongue, his whole mouth on you. Moaning, you felt the intensity fire up, burning away all the negative comments and remarks, the ugly thoughts and feelings of unworthiness of being the lover of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, because that wasn’t it. You were the lover of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, two guys from Brooklyn, who had kind hearts and even kinder souls. You were more than worthy of that title and no amount of hateful remarks could ever change that – you saw that now.

“I – I’m…”

The rest of the sentence disappeared into the air as the pair moved faster to satisfy you, knowing the way you loved to be touch and with that knowledge, the life time friends brought you to the edge then swiftly and delicately, pushed you off.

Your body shook uncontrollably, the air condition cooled your warm skin. Steve licked you a few times more before kissing the inside of both of your thighs. He sat back and rubbed at his chin; Bucky gave your breast a tender squeeze before releasing them. He kissed you on the cheek, removed his hands from under your shirt and pulled it down.

No words formed from your lips, so you were grateful when Bucky grabbed the throw blanket from the couch’s arm and covered your body half with it. He snuggled you against his chest, arms wrapped around your waist. Steve stood up and leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead, proclaiming he was thirsty. He disappeared into the kitchen and you smiled, body relaxed against Buck’s.

You glanced down at the coffee table and noticed that in his rush to get to you, Steve had broken the leg. “We’re going to need a new coffee table.”

Bucky chuckled. “Probably.”

Sliding off him, you laughed too and apologized for letting the social media comments get to you. “I’m the Avengers PR person, I should know better. I guess we’re all just human, mostly, anyway.”

He looked at you and smiled. “Mostly.”

“Who needs water?”

Steve walked into the living room with two glasses of water, he handed each of you one and said that the takeout was still warm, noting that he was hungry. You downed the water and asked him to pass over your discarded sweats. Putting them on, you cleared your throat and looked to both men.

“I just want to say that I’m going to really try to not let those comments bother me, it’s dumb and they don’t know our lives. You guys are right, and that’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard that in your life.”

They both laughed and you smiled, feeling better. “I just…I love you two very much and I don’t want my own negative thoughts get in the way nor do I want outside influences to mess up what we have. Agreed?”

Steve looked over to Bucky, who nodded. “Agreed.”

You clap your hands together and sighed in relief, announcing you were ready to eat. The two friends watched as you walked away from them, their eyes on you until you left the room. Bucky stretched against the couch and got up, patting Steve on the back.

“How the hell did we get this lucky, punk?”

Pure luck, that was the only answer Steve could come up with. At least, that was what he felt every time he walked into a room and saw you, and he was sure Bucky felt the same. Smiling, mostly to himself, Steve shrugged. “It beats me.”

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#steve x reader x bucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #marvel imagine #marvel

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goblinconceivable · 4 years

Text

oh i loved this show so much...

Lie to Me rewatch FTW! s1 ep 1 and 2

Ep1

Halfway through ep 1 and so far things that make Gillian happy: pudding, romance novels, orange slushies

They started TLG 6 years previous. I think by s2 she’d been married 5 years. Just a mental note

Ha, when they go to test Ria Gillian has a “boarding pass” in her book/pocketbook thing. She’s got a prop!

Loving how Cal rambles and cuts himself off to inquire after her food choices. This is all character/dynamic establishment, and frankly it’s a little strange given how long they’ve known each other, but it’s just cute. He’s multitasking, interested in engaging with just slightly more than doing their job.

“I would like to sleep with you.” Jesus Loker, sexual harrassment suit right out the gate. Ria handles it well, but still... Shouldn’t have to.

Great team dynamic when talking to the parents. Cal as bad cop, Gillian as good cop, you’re not sure in the moment if Gillian preempts him for real, or they were playing it on purpose. Which is something the show does a lot, play their incredible teamwork and mutual understanding and respect off the places they butt heads.

Ria challenging Cal over Alec lying to Gillian... I sorta dislike the implication that Gillian wouldn’t be able to see it, but it’s coming from Ria, who’s defined by being young and a bit wild (unlike the rest, who’ve been schooled) So she misses nuance.

Though yeah, we block out things we don’t want to see.

Also starts establishing the Cal/Ria mentorship dynamic.

$82,000 and she can’t get out of the business? I know the club would take a cut, probably a big one, but still...

Just have to say I love Gillian with the kids (Ria and Loker). She’s always this calm center of leadership - so secure she can foster a true team environment. It’s beautiful to watch. Threatened by nothing, is Gillian.

Gillian laughing at Cal’s “Rainman” routine. She genuinely enjoys him, as he genuinely enjoys her. Their friendship is life!

I really love this scene with Jacqueline. Like really love her acting. I completely buy that she’s a teen - a real teen, caught between childhood and adulthood.

Kid’s released, and they have Gillian stand a little behind Cal and look over at him. This is the part of the dynamic I question, where she’s often a little in his shadow. We get the moments where she proves she was there on purpose, it’s cool with her, and the moments she was pulling the strings, but it’s the Cal Show.

But then she approaches him as he sprawls at the table, and setup reveal (yeah the note is funny), and her keeping the note is again showing us that Gillian is sentimental and cute and fun (and this undercuts the pawnlike aspects.)

I will headcanon that he also didn’t tell her because he knew she’d be amused by the later reveal.

We also get a payoff reversal of the earlier food scenes, where Cal teases her about being weird. Aaaand, we hit a little drumbeat on his flirtation, which kinda feels like her due, tbh.

Also didn’t he write Jacqueline’s name in crappy cursive, and he wrote this in nice block letters?

Ep2

Cal with the ostrich egg and all I can think is Les Stroud. I love Les so much.

They really love to talk about sex and sexual arousal. Is this edgy? Or just that sex is so fundamental to society and... men...

“I was that boy.” Did I say how much I love Gillian? I also like her dynamic with Loker, he really respects her, arguably more than he respects Cal. (Not even arguably, I 100% believe it.)

Haha, Cal flirting with that seargent and Gillian amused as hell while Ria gets a master class.

A cool aspect of the show’s premise is that it automatically gets to play in the “colleagues are way close and forgiving and let each other get away with anything” sandbox. Because they have to - these are people who’s jobs are literally to see past things like social/professional lubricants. They speak a deeper language.

Loker teasing Gillian with candy... Bad Loker, not cool.

LOL the Kool-Aid man is “shaving” with a squeegee. I miss commercials.

If I was listening to a friend take a bullet like that, I’d be expressing something. Pride, respect, etc. Can’t remember what they think of this though, maybe it makes sense.

Loker gave Ria a nice little morale boost, honest, and then undercut by hitting on her. Which I don’t think he thinks will work, his radical honesty thing playing out. I did shit like that in college, so you know what? I get him.

Gillian eating again!

“I spot the liars, you’re the feelings department.” So true. So, so true.

Loker talking her out of a muffin... Poor Gillian.

Who wants to bet Gillian will keep that signed ball forever? Ooh, that’s like how Cal collected all that junk. But hers are emotionally based, a story behind each one on a different level than Cal’s.

Did he THINK they were in a relationship? Ugh. I think he did... Truth man.

I really do like how they portrayed the boss soldier guy. He is military, and whatnot, but he’s also there to protect his (wo)men, and when presented with the argument, he instantly follows it. Not for a split second do I believe he’s even tempted to cover anything up for the sake of the mission. Beautiful to see.

Awww, her little salute... I teared up.

And using the fee to help the kid go to college... I love these guys.

“Never let the facts get in the way of the truth.” Good writing advice too.

#lie to me #rewatch #liveblog

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ellynneversweet · 4 years

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⭐️?

In reference to this post, which it took me fucking ages to find again. Thank you! And I’m so sorry for taking so long to reply — I realised that what I wanted to talk about was what I was in the middle of writing, and then I couldn’t find the original post FML.

For my free choice, I’m going to carry on about everything that gets broken (so far) in A Pillar I am of Pride, and why including literal babies as characters in fic is real fucking hard (ie they have next to no character or plot agency), so without further ado, may I present:

Stains and Spills and Smashed Pots, Oh My!

Right, so, Pillar started out as something along the lines of ‘five times the Darcys and the Rushworths had dinner together, and one time they didn’t,’ but because I am bad at sticking to a plan, it evolved into something slightly looser, and then I decided what I really wanted to do was write a something with a very formal and elaborate grammatical structure that was, on the face of it, about a bunch of posh, mostly dignified adults having a series of dull and unpleasant parties, and smuggle in a series of smutty jokes and wink-wink-nudge-nudge moments about which of the characters are getting it on (or failing to) with whom. To that end, everything I can think of gets to be a metaphor, and, by the way, looking back I’m slightly pissed that in the opening scene I missed a trick and wrote the Darcys buttering toast instead of muffins.

So far the list of smashed, stained, and broken items goes:

Item: Mr Darcy’s ornamental orange tree in a chinoiserie pot, and (nearly) his gigantic hallway mirror. Damage: the former is tripped over by Mr Rushworth while blind drunk, and the latter he catches himself on. All of this is scene-setting ‘rich people showing off’ decor, and what this does on a literal level in-fic is aggravate Elizabeth and Darcy, who do not appreciate their stylish, comfortable home being smashed up by an oafish guest. On another level, it’s building on canon!Darcy’s associations with gardens and gardening, being someone who creates and produces within the community. On the jokey metaphor level, orange blossom is associated with marriage, and (smashed) mirrors with bad luck. The Rushworth marriage isn’t going to last, and they’re going to cause some stress to their married neighbours.

Item: Elizabeth’s evening outfit, and probably her dignity. Damage: stained by leaky breasts as a result of startled-awake-and-crying Darcy baby The cherry on top of the ruined evening. Elizabeth spends the evening watching half her guests delving into a previously unknown family feud and in the process accidentally insulting the other half, then finds out her husband is, unexpectedly, completely wasted (along with five other increasingly-less-decorous gentlemen, two of whom are her overnight guests while the others are theoretically responsible for getting their female family home safely after dark in an city and era not known for being particularly safe) and ends up trying to resolve everything in the middle of a wardrobe emergency while comforting a distressed baby. On the metaphorical level, the point is this: everyone’s body is betraying them. The resident drunks are telling, or at least alluding to, deep dark secrets, and generally making smutty jokes, and Elizabeth, who is trying very hard to be Mrs Darcy v1 (dignified society hostess with the mostess) instead ends the evening as Mrs Darcy v2 (frustrated, upset and hormonal young mother).

Item: Mr Bennet’s letter to Elizabeth, in which he probes her opinions on Maria Rushworth and Henry Crawford. Damage: squirted by breastmilk when Darcy toddler picks a fight with Darcy baby during breakfast. This part is where I got stuck for ages. The Rushworths (Mr and Mrs) have seriously offended Elizabeth, who is a champion grudge holder, but she needs to continue to be around them on some level without overtly influencing the overarching Mansfield Park plot, in order for the fic to progress. Maria in particular has insulted Elizabeth’s parenting, so it makes sense to bring the children in. Only problem is: they’re babies. There’s a limit to what you can do with characters who are babies. In this case, they get to be useful metaphoric sounding boards for the actions and beliefs of the adults around them. Elizabeth is in this scene (and the fic more generally) meant to be set up as Maria’s foil. Elizabeth has a successful-by-regency-standards marriage, which means money, respected social status, and production of a (male) heir and spare. That she gets on with her husband is a cool bonus. So, on the metaphoric level, the kids are representative of the key regency gentlewoman KPI: legitimate fertility (and, by extension, legitimate sexual activity). Elizabeth has children, Maria doesn’t (yet), which puts Elizabeth up a peg on the social pole. Also, Mansfield Park is, among other things, heavily focused on siblings fighting with each other and older siblings in particular fucking things up for their younger siblings. The Darcy kids are having a playful wrestle, not trying to destroy each other’s lives and inheritances — the worst that happens is that Darcy baby gets his breakfast interrupted — but it’s a chibi reflection of the Bertram and Crawford siblings arguing with each other. On a jokey level — a bit of stray bodily fluid gets squirted onto a sheet (of paper), and literally stains Maria’s name. It’s crude, but hey.

Item: Broderie Anglaise table runner. Damage: ripped as a result of Darcy toddler playing racetracks on it with a toy horse. The table runner was originally Elizabeth’s sleeve, but that got changed because it didn’t quite flow, scene-structure wise. Darcy toddler is busy practising being a gentleman’s heir, which for a three year old in a century where hotwheels haven’t been invented yet, means playing with a toy horse. This carries on from the previous two incidents, but it basically boils down to Darcy toddler (and absent Darcy baby) being physical, living proof of Elizabeth having a sex life. Ripping a bit of white lace with a miniature Trojan horse is, again, probably a bit crude, but it is meant to reinforce the previous points made about married (prospective) mothers whose bodies conspire to produce proof of just what(/whom) they’re doing.

Item: baby rattle. Damage: Darcy baby throws it out of his pram, and eventually has his toy-chucking privileges taken away by Elizabeth after it gets dropped in something nasty. Small babies like to drop and throw stuff, which, I am assured, is a normal part of child development that works around concepts like figuring out how their hands/gravity work and engaging in trust exercises with their carers. Darcy toddler — Edward — and Darcy baby — Richard — are pretty deliberately named after Elizabeth’s decent, respectable Uncle Gardiner, and Darcy’s witty and sensible bestie/cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, who got the standard fandom first name this time round. Darcy baby takes after his (wilful) mother. In canon, pre-fic, Elizabeth Bennet, country girl next door, does a fair bit of damage by failing to consider the consequences of her actions. Obviously, at this point, Darcy baby is...a baby...and a toy accidentally thrown into a pile of horse manure is not, say, a ruined housemaid or pile of gambling debts, but grown up Richard Darcy, wealthy and charming second son of a very important family, exists in potentia as the sort of problem young man that turns up over and over again in Austen (George Wickham, Tom Bertram, Henry Crawford etc). His parents, who are all too aware of what it means to let a man in that social position regard himself as untouchable, are making a point of teaching both their sons that their tiny baby actions have tiny baby consequences. Which leads to 6 and 7:

Item: A red ball. Damage: the ball, offered by Mary Crawford after Richard has had his rattle taken away, meets the same muddy fate. This whole scene was structured around Mary getting to say ‘boys will be boys.’ Mary Crawford is a perennial fave of mine, but I do have one problem with her, and that is her blaming Fanny for Henry’s part in ruining Maria’s life. Mary, who has just been asked not to encourage Richard throwing his toys, goes ahead and does just that. She’s been raised with Henry, and it shows — she sees nothing wrong with indulging privileged kids and encouraging thoughtless behaviour. Darcy baby here also serves as a stand-in for his adult namesake, Colonel Fitz, another second son, whom Elizabeth is considering attempting to throw together with Mary. Mary is playful, charming, and fascinating, but possibly not very reliable. And, of course, because the original sin metaphor is inescapable in western culture, the toy she offers in this show of defiance is red, round, and chewable.

Item: Elizabeth’s redingote. Damage: drooled upon by Darcy baby In keeping with the Elizabeth-as-Maria’s foil theme, Elizabeth suffers a (very minor) public disgrace, and her various female companions attempt to address it. Georgiana Darcy suffers an acute case of fremdschamen, and immediately informs Elizabeth of the issue before attempting to fix it but becoming overwhelmed, Anne Wentworth actually does fix it quietly and without a lot of fuss, Julia Bertram is completely ineffectual, and Mary Crawford, after ignoring what was going on right in front of her eyes and letting things progress past where they should have been, tries to cover it up by using the gentleman culprit as a shield, and relying on him to do something he is absolutely not going to do, ie, sit still (Not suggesting that Darcy baby is at fault or malicious — he’s just the unfortunate teething stand-in for Mary’s complicity in adult!brat Henry’s bad behaviour).

#my fic #my writing blather #asks #a pillar i am of pride #for the record all the Darcy children will grow up to be nice and responsible people #they're my OCs I do what I want #maybeindigo

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alj4890 · 5 years

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RCD Appreciation Week Day 1 Prompt

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) with the first day's prompt being a holiday.

(Thomas x Amanda) taken from my storyline And Then I Met You

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @gibbles82 @cora-nova @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @pixieferry @lolablackwrites @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfandoms @rcd-appreciation

Masterlist

Table for One

Three weeks before Thanksgiving

With a soft click, Thomas turned off the bathroom light and took a moment to simply enjoy the sight before him. Amanda had fallen asleep with a few open books around her. Her laptop was propped on his bed pillow and a notepad had slipped off on her side of the bed. A ballpoint pen hung loosely between her fingers.

He wondered if he would ever truly get used to the thought of her as his wife. They had been married for a little over eight months, and yet there were times he still found himself in awe of her. His lips curved as they typically did when seeing her in his bed. It was amazing how she had found that unknown empty niche in his life and filled it as if it had been created specifically for her.

He walked silently over and began to clear away the books, careful to mark her place, and laptop. He eased the pen out of her grip and glanced down at her notes. His eyebrow lifted. She had created quite the list of ingredients.

"Thanksgiving dinner options." He muttered and turned off her lamp.

Amanda's eyes opened when he eased into bed beside her. She smiled sleepily when he softly kissed her. "I didn't mean to doze off."

His lips brushed hers again. "What are you up to?"

She moved closer in his embrace and placed her lips on his neck. "We have a holiday coming upon us and I want to make it special for you. I am afraid I don't know much about Thanksgiving other than what I have learned from movies. So, I was doing some research."

"Do you have something similar in Cordonia?" He closed his eyes when her hand drifted lower.

"Hmm." The vibration against his neck made his heart race. "I suppose our celebration of the day Queen Kenna united the Five Kingdoms is a combination of your Independence Day and Thanksgiving. Perhaps our King Hunter's Day of Plenty is a closer match."

Thomas captured her lips in a deep kiss. "What is that holiday?"

"It is a day where baskets of food and needed items are exchanged. Lords and Ladies of the realm were to share their bounty with neighboring nobles and the people that worked their lands. It has evolved over the years to almost a second Christmas with the givers trying to outdo each other with extravagant gift baskets." She explained. Her lips traveled to his ear and she spoke softly while teasing his earlobe. "Though from what I read about King Hunter's reputation with the ladies, I believe there were quite a few who received a rather special basket from him."

Thomas could not remember history or holidays for that matter ever holding his attention as well as this particular conversation was. He kissed her when she began to ask about Thanksgiving.

"I would like to continue your traditions." She gasped when his lips moved down her neck. "Thomas!" A surprised laugh burst out when his fingers brushed her ticklish ribs. She smiled when she heard his chuckle before he lifted his head.

"My family never followed a tradition for Thanksgiving." Thomas explained. "In fact, my parents made it a point to plan some type of work or leisure activity to avoid getting together with extended family."

Amanda's eyes searched his face in the dim light of the moon filtering through the crack in the drapes. "Oh. Well, how have you celebrated it as an adult?"

"Alone." He explained. "I spend the day relaxed, order something special for dinner, and finish the night watching a movie while drinking an expensive bottle of something special." A smile slowly formed with a memory. "One of my best Thanksgivings was after my first movie was so well received. I had refused invitations to various gatherings and ordered Beef Wellington for my dinner. I then opened an excellent bottle of port, had a decadent piece of chocolate cake, and watched Frank Capra movies. It was absolutely perfect."

Amanda's brow puckered at that one detail that seemed to go against all her research. "You normally spend Thanksgiving alone?"

He nodded. "I prefer it. I look at it as a day to recharge before being forced to spend Christmas and New Year's with people." He pressed a heated kiss to her lips. "Do not worry about creating a massive turkey dinner. I don't need it."

Before she could argue for something a bit more traditional, he diverted her attention to stealing every thought she had with his lips.

____________

The night before Thanksgiving

Amanda grinned at what she had secretly arranged. The table was set perfectly and all was made ready for the next day's quiet relaxation. She quickly took some pumpkin muffins out of the oven and placed them on a cooling rack. She readied Thomas's coffee pot for the morning.

"Breakfast finished." She muttered while checking items off her list. "Dinner ordered. Dessert?" She smiled at the triple chocolate cake sitting under a glass cake cover. "Ready. Bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to pair with the Beef Wellington and the Graham’s Ne Oublie Tawny Port for something extravagant." She lifted the elegant black bottle that had cost nearly eight thousand dollars and set it on the counter. She thought it would make her husband's Thanksgiving even better.

Amanda checked the theater room and had It Happened One Night and Meet John Doe ready to play. She then returned to the kitchen to compose a short letter. She pressed her lips to the bottom once finished and smiled at the kiss mark.

She set the folded note on the kitchen table and quietly crept upstairs. Thomas had fallen asleep hours ago. She grabbed her cell phone, shut the door, and left the house.

_____________

Thanksgiving Day

Thomas opened his eyes. He had an unusual feeling that something was off. He rolled over and frowned at Amanda's undisturbed side of the bed. Had she fallen asleep downstairs? He got up and went to find her. He yawned on his way to start his coffee and could smell the lingering aroma of ginger and cinnamon.

His wife had made her pumpkin muffins. Between those and her pumpkin cookies, he couldn't seem to get enough. His lips curved at the whimsical muffin tin she had used that had shaped the muffins as turkeys, leaves, and acorns. Yawning once more, he noticed the folded note sitting on the kitchen table.

His frown deepened when he noticed the table had been decorated and set for one. He read what she had written.

Dearest Thomas

Happy Thanksgiving! I have tried to recreate your favorite one. You don't have to worry about anything today except relaxing. Dinner will be delievered around five. I ordered your Beef Wellington. I also have a very rare port for you to enjoy with your chocolate cake. Frank Capra movies are set in the theater room. Enjoy your needed solitude, my love. I will see you tomorrow.

All my love,

Amanda

Thomas stared at the letter in utter disbelief. He thought back to the night they had discussed Thanksgiving. What had he said to make her think he wanted to be by himself today? He told her he needed to be alone with her. That was blatantly understood now that they were married.

He dropped the letter and went to find his phone. He called her to see where she was. When there was no answer, he tried to control his temper. His voice held an edge of barely restrained rage when he left a voice message asking her to call him immediately.

He checked the hall closet to see how much luggage she had taken. Nothing had been used making him even more perplexed. He started checking the guest bedrooms, hoping she had decided to spend the day in there.

"Where did she go without luggage?" He muttered to himself. He went back to their bedroom. Only a small satchel was missing. His shoulders slumped as he returned to the kitchen.

The hours dragged by. He tried to relax but couldn't turn his mind off. He checked his phone every five to ten minutes, expecting her to call back. His dinner was delievered promptly and he sat down at the kitchen table.

He hated every moment of it. Amanda should be here, he thought. She can't just up and leave me on a holiday after making me used to her. The loneliness was felt acutely and all because it was a holiday, one he wanted to spend with her. He missed her laughter and gentle teasing. He missed the conversation they would most likely be having right now about Frank Capra's work. Thomas wanted her home with him, reminding him how much he had to be grateful for.

The past year with her in work and marriage had been the best of his life. He needed her there to tell her that. He took a sip of the wine she had picked for him and frowned even more. It was as if it was meant to specifically be paired with his dinner. How could he make her blush with compliments for creating a perfect holiday meal if she wasn't there?

He forced down the solitary meal. Thomas then saw the port. His eyes widened at the three silver ringed bottle. She had truly outdone herself with her generosity and research. He cut a piece of the cake covered in dark chocolate ganache. He opened the extremely rare bottle of port and took a deep breath. Hints of honey, dried fruit, orange zest, and caramel wafted up. He poured a glass and took it with his cake into the theater room.

He started the movie and grimaced. She would pick the romantic one first. Just like Clark Gable's grumpy cynical reporter, he too had fallen for and met his match in a wealthy society lady. Much to his relief, his was not quite as difficult as Claudette Colbert.

He took a sip of the port and closed his eyes. It was sublime. The bite of chocolate cake that followed set off the notes of flavors to create a moment of gastronomic perfection. Now if he only had his wife to thank properly.

He finished his glass and slice of cake by the time the first movie ended. Thomas picked up his dishes to take back to the kitchen. He glanced out the bay window looking out over his backyard and stilled. Was that a light flickering in the newly rebuilt guest house?

He moved closer to the window and focused on the faint glow that seemed to be from a television screen. With a grim smile, he grabbed a set of keys and set off down the cobblestone path.

Amanda had turned the lights off while snuggling under a blanket. She picked up her plate of pumpkin pie and jumped when a woman's scream came out of nowhere in the movie, The Uninvited.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have gone horror, even 1944 horror." She mumbled with a nervous laugh.

Thomas leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. He waited for her to notice that she was no longer alone. Her attention was focused on the movie as she reached for her glass of milk. It was empty prompting her to get up. She paused the movie then let out a scream when she saw Thomas in the shadows.

She set her glass down and clutched her chest. "If I didn't know better, I would swear you were trying to scare me to death. Need I remind you that this is Thanksgiving, not Halloween."

His eyes narrowed. "I am well aware what day it is."

She calmed her heart and sat down. "Is something wrong? Your dinner wasn't late, was it?"

"No." He replied, slowly advancing on her.

Whatever she saw in his expression had her scooting across the small couch. When she ran out of space, he pounced on her. Her laughter made him smile as his lips touched hers. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him even closer. "You didn't have to end your Thanksgiving early on my account."

"About that...what gave you the idea to leave me alone?" His dark gaze closely observed as confusion clouded her hazel eyes.

"You told me you preferred spending the holiday alone. That you needed time away from people." She gently smoothed his hair off his forehead. "I wanted you to have that."

Thomas's deepening frown made her eyes widen. "Listen very carefully." He ordered in a serious tone. "Whenever I say I want to be alone, it will always mean I want to be alone with you." His intense dark eyes searched hers for understanding.

Her lips eased into a smile. "Oh." She pulled his head down and met his lips in a tender kiss.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to not give in to smiling back at her. He needed to stress this point. "It doesn't matter if it is an American holiday or a Cordonian one, we will spend them all together. I don't care if you hear me say I loved spending one alone, that will no longer be the case. Is that understood?"

"I understand." Her voice was soft and filled with emotion.

He swallowed and sat up. "Good. Now get your things. We are going back to our home."

She cleaned up the few dishes she had used and gathered the couple of items she brought over. He took her bag from her and turned everything off. She paused outside while he locked up their guesthouse. He wrapped his arm around her as they walked silently back.

He dropped her things on the kitchen table and took her into the theater room. He sat down, pulling her with him and hit play on the next movie. She curled her legs under her while getting more comfortable against his side.

As a scene unfolded with James Gleason's character dealing with phone calls caused by Barbara Stanwyck's, Thomas stiffened.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" He asked..

Her eyes widened again. "What calls? I didn't receive any." She left him to check her phone and came back grimacing. "I had it on silent."

He tugged her back onto the couch and relaxed once more when she settled next to him. He pressed a sweet kiss to the top of her head while he told her how perfect his meal and port was. She blushed some at his bragging on her and then even more when he told her the ways he intended to show his appreciation.

Later that night as they laid in bed, they breathlessly spoke of what they were most thankful for. Each blessing expressed began and ended with a kiss that became more and more intense as the lists went on.

Thomas held Amanda close as the chimes from the downstairs clock revealed it to be midnight. She smiled while her hands slowly roamed his warm skin. "I think this might need to be our annual Thanksgiving tradition. I can't think of a better place to tell you how thankful I am for you."

His lips curved while his arms tightened around her. "Our tradition." He kissed her, groaning when she pushed him back against the pillows to continue the kiss. He broke away to cup her face. "I believe you and I are going to have many holiday traditions that are perfect for us."

#choices thomas hunt #rcd thomas hunt #rcd appreciation week #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #holiday prompts #thanksgiving

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valiantgentle · 5 years

Text

HOUSE OF HALLOWEEN. an ashley adams one-shot. slightly au-ish, but technically post-season-one.

─ on halloween, ashley’s seventeenth birthday, she and the rest of the anubis students are dragged into a grave scavenger hunt, and alfie’s life may be at stake.

Halloween is the best day of the year for three reasons. 1) You get to dress up as anyone you want to be. You want to be a princess? Wear that tiara, spin around in a frilly dress. You want to be a superhero? Remember that with great power comes great responsibility. You want to be a god from any mythology on the planet? …Good luck. 2) You get free sweets. Chocolate, lollipops, and M&Ms, oh my! 3) It’s my birthday. That’s right, 31st October is my birthday, and today, I am seventeen years old.

Sixteen was an insane year by any standards. Joy went missing, kidnapped by a secret society and her father, and Nina showed up out of nowhere and became one of my closest friends. Then we had that whole Cup of Ankh thing, I saw actual ghosts, and also I started to call Jerome by his first name. Still getting used to that one.

Anyway. It’s Halloween, it’s my birthday, and it’s the best frickin’ day of the year.

“Hey, Ash, happy birthday,” Fabian says to me as Nina, Amber, and I sit down for breakfast.

My roomies had already wished me the same when I woke up—actually, one of them replaced the alarm on my phone to play the birthday song instead of the normal annoying tone. It seeped into my dream and presented in the form of the pharaoh from those museum movies singing it. That was weird.

Alfie looks up from his orange juice as I thank him, remarking, “It’s your birthday?” I raise my eyebrows, as does everyone else at the table. Even Mara in the kitchen stops and stares at him. Huh. I thought Alfie, of all people, would’ve remembered, what with it being Halloween and all. He said once that we should switch birthdays so he gets the fun one. “That works.”

“What?” I ask lamely.

“You forgot her birthday?” Jerome questions.

Alfie counters, the confused expression replaced with a curious one, “You remembered?”

“It’s kind of hard to forget. It’s Halloween.”

Patricia inquires nonchalantly, “You sure that’s why you remember?”

Jerome glares as I roll my eyes. They’re really still on this Jashley thing, aren’t they? Just because he and I have decided to be more civil with each other doesn’t mean we’re suddenly into each other. Then again, they’ve been on this pretty much since he and I met, so I’m sure us being actual friends has probably just egged them on even more.

Alfie downs the rest of his orange juice in a single gulp. “I’m off to school,” he says as he grabs a muffin. “Happy birthday, Ash—but more importantly, happy Halloween.”

He laughs maniacally as he backs out of the room. The entirety of Anubis House (excluding Victor, who’s locked up in his office like always) follows him with our eyes until we hear the door to the house close. I turn around and question, “Is he acting weird?”

From the kitchen, Trudy nods. “He was up before me,” she remarks. “And not for a snack.”

“You know,” Jerome states thoughtfully, “I haven’t seen him with a zombie mask on today. He might be feeling sick.”

Amber sighs deeply. “I know Alfie.” She’s kind of dating him. Kind of. “He’ll be back to normal after school.”

Patricia quips, “Is he ever normal?”

The halls of the school are entirely decked out for Halloween. There’s a plastic mummy poking out of a paper sarcophagus on every corner, spider webs along the walls, and orange and black streamers hanging from every doorway. My own locker is covered with orange and black balloons and a ripped piece of paper that reads in a classic spooky font HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

I smile as I push the balloons away to open the locker, but something falls out and onto the floor. I bend to pick it up, frowning. It’s a plain white envelope with the number 1 on it. Opening the envelope, I find inside a Halloween greeting card, but the printed message on the inside is covered up with tape. In its place are two messages—one written in English using newspaper clippings, like a ransom note, and the other in French, written in cursive.

A Halloween Quest for Miss Ashley Adams! To find the rest of your message, locate Nina Martin, Mara Jaffray, and Mick Campbell. Don’t tell anyone, or you’ll get a fright.

ils disent que les chauves-souris sortent la nuit

“What the…” I mumble. I close my locker, reading over the messages again. Nina passes by me, smiling as she puts in the combination to her locker. “Hey, do you know what this is?”

Nina looks at the envelope and shakes her head, just as an identical one with the number 2 instead falls out of her locker. She looks at it, then at me. “I know it’s not a birthday card.” She opens it up, looking over it before turning it around to show me. The French message on hers is different, but the English one is identical, just with mine and Nina’s name swapped around. “Okay, this is weird.”

“Mick and Mara probably got the same thing,” I say. “We should find them.”

But we don’t have to go far, because before Nina and I can even get going, the couple comes up to us with matching envelopes. “It’s so strange,” Mara says. “We found these envelopes in our bags during first class.”

“We found them in our lockers,” Nina responds. “It’s probably Trudy doing some fun Halloween game for us. We’ve all got study hall next, right? Might as well see what it says.”

“We just passed by the lounge,” Mick says, pointing his thumb that direction. “Hardly anyone’s in there.”

So the four of us go to the lounge, setting our respective cards and envelopes on the table in the middle of the room. Mara’s the one that notices that each envelope is labeled with a number and organizes them in numerical order.

“It stands to reason,” she says, switching around Nina and Mick’s envelopes, “that the message goes in order of the numbers. So the one Ashley got is first, Nina’s second, mine third, and Mick’s fourth. It’s a four part message.”

“So we should each take our own part,” Mick suggests, already reaching for the fourth envelope and card. At the same time, he takes his phone out of his blazer pocket.

“What are you doing?” Mara asks.

“I’m looking the translations up online.”

“But I have a French-to-English dictionary right beside me.”

“But this is faster.”

“You two are so weird,” I interrupt. “I vote for Google. I wanna know what it says. Nina?”

Nina’s eyes are glued on the four cards, and it takes me saying her name twice for her to pay attention. “What? Oh, I—I have to choose the internet. Something’s bothering me about this.”

My eyebrows furrow. “You mean the unsigned ransom note stuffed into our lockers that warn us not to tell anyone aside from the people we were told to find or we’ll get a fright, which I’m assuming means an extended hospital and/or morgue stay?” Nina blinks at me. Mick and Mara share a concerned glance. “Anyway, we all want to know what the message says. Off to Google Translate.”

I reach forward and grab my card, already pulling up the search engine on my phone. “You know,” I continue as they hesitantly reach for theirs, “if we’re a team, we need a team name. Team Jackal.”

“Team Jackal?” Mick questions.

“The head of Anubis is a jackal,” Mara explains for me, “in Egyptian mythology.”

“Oh. I get it. We live in Anubis House.”

“And we need nicknames,” I remark. “I will be The Artist. Nina, you’re The Sleuth. Mick, The Jock. Mara, the Nerd.”

As I look from my phone to the card, Nina says, “Isn’t it weird that it’s the four of us? I mean, separately, in pairs of two, it makes sense. Me and Ashley, you two,” she gestures across to Mick and Mara. “But the four of us together? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Mick chuckles lightly. “Makes you wonder what the rest of the house is doing. I’ve got mine done, by the way.”

“Mine, too,” us girls chorus in unison. Mick looks a little freaked out, while the three of us just laugh. Mara adds, “All right, Ashley, you got the envelope numbered 1. Yours must be first.”

I nod, reading from my phone as Mara readies her pencil to write it on her notepad. “‘They say bats come out at night.’”

“Nina?”

“Uh,” she says, “‘But don’t be overcome with fright.’ Fright, like in the other message.”

Mara nods. “Mine is, ‘A bat hangs learning somewhere.’ And Mick?”

Mick finishes, “‘And your next clue is hidden there.’”

They say bats come out at night, but don’t be overcome with fright. A bat hangs learning somewhere, and your next clue is hidden there.

“It’s a scavenger hunt,” Mara realizes. I look around the lounge, noticing something odd on the stage. It’s Jerome, Patricia, Fabian, and Amber talking in hushed tones in a circle. That’s weird. I didn’t think any of them willingly spoke to Jerome. “Someone’s sending us on a scavenger hunt.”

“Not just a scavenger hunt,” I say. “A Halloween-themed scavenger hunt.”

“Should we…” Mick pauses. “…you know, scavenge?”

“I think we should,” says Nina, The Sleuth. “I know I’m not going to rest until I get to the bottom of it. The clue says there’s a bat learning somewhere—obviously in the school. We should split up and search, text when we find a bat hanging from the ceiling. Hopefully fake.”

“Let’s go, then,” I say, standing. I head toward the door first, my card in my hand, and nearly run into Alfie. “Oh, hey, Alfie. How’s it going?”

Alfie shrugs. “It’s Halloween. Things couldn’t be better! What’s that?” He gestures to the card. “Looks fun and spooky. What’s it say?”

I glance at the card. “Oh, it’s, uh, a card from my sis. It’s my Hallobirth.”

“Hallobirth?”

“It sounded better than Birthoween.”

“Oh, my God.” Alfie laughs, shaking his head, and holds his glance on the group at the stage. Well, mostly on Amber, I assume. “I’ll see you later, Ash.”

I take the east side of the school to search; Nina’s north, Mara’s west, and Mick’s south. As I duck into classrooms in search of a hanging plastic bat on the ceiling, I ponder whatever’s happening. Honestly, I’m a little worried this has something to do with our Sibuna stuff. Like… I don’t know, maybe Rufus is back from the dead to taunt us on Halloween. He knew both me and my great-grandmother Lily Henry. Heck, they were technically siblings through adoption! He had to know we share the same birthday, amongst other things.

But, you know… Rufus is dead. There’s no way he survived those sandflies. But also, what if he had a partner?

Nope. Ashley, stop it. It’s not Rufus. Rufus Zeno is dead and he’s gonna stay dead.

As I’m leaving the tenth classroom on the east side of the school, my phone pings with a text message. Mick. He says he found the bat in Mrs. Burton’s art classroom. I stuff my phone back into my pocket, pushing through the crowd in the direction of the art classroom.

“Hey,” I say, the last one of Team Jackal to arrive, “where is it?”

“Up there,” Mick says, pointing to the corner. Sure enough, there’s an obviously fake bat hanging from the ceiling, right above a painting I recognize as my own. “Found this paper in its beak. Have no idea what it says.”

“Another language again?”

Mick hands it to Mara, who frowns as she looks over it. “They’re hieroglyphs. I don’t have a dictionary for this.”

“Can we see?” Nina asks, holding her hand out. Mara hands over the paper. There’s quite a few hieroglyphs printed onto it. “We could bring it to Fabian. He could translate it for us.”

I shake my head. “No. The first message said not to tell anyone. I can translate it.”

The three of them chorus at the same time, “You can?”

I frown. I’m not a fan of the doubt in their voices. “Yeah. I can do this. I’ve been taking an online class.”

Mara raises her eyebrows. “Why?”

‘Cause I was forced by my ancestry to participate in Ancient Egyptian mysteries in the place where we live isn’t an acceptable answer, I assume. So I respond, “‘Cause I wanna learn a new language.”

“You might want to try one that’s being used in the twenty-first century.”

“What, should I learn Latin, Mara?” I retort, my words coming out sharper and more condescending than I intended. Nina elbows me, and I sigh. “Sorry, Mara. What I mean is, give me a few hours, and I’ll have this translated. Every glyph. Trust me.”

I spend most of the school day subtly using my phone and the internet to translate the hieroglyphs from the second clue. It was really hard to do that without any of the teachers noticing, but somehow I succeeded in getting away with it. And in translating it. That’s right, Miss Amateur Hieroglyph Translator got thirty-two menacing, creepy as heck words out of those hieroglyphs. The Artist does better with pictures and numbers.

Also, I’ve seen some of these before with our prior mystery. That helped a lot.

“You’re sure that’s what it says?” Nina questions warily as Team Jackal crowds around me in Mr. Sweet’s empty classroom just after last bell. “Like, absolutely sure?”

“One hundred percent,” I answer. “I know. It’s freaking me out a little, too.”

You found the bat, now find the raven. Corbierre is not who we speak about. There is, in the school, another raven, and if you find it, you might just save him.

“Save him,” Mara repeats, her voice slightly trembling. “We should tell someone now. Someone’s life may be at stake.”

“Maybe it’s just one of those Halloween things,” Mick suggests weakly.

“We’ll never know unless we find the raven it’s talking about,” I state. “We should find it first before we make any decisions to tell authorities. You with me?” Nina nods. So does Mick. Mara does so reluctantly. “All right. So it says the raven’s not Corbierre. That��s good, that means Victor won’t come tear apart the school to find his precious bird.”

“If there was a real raven in the school,” Mick remarks, “we would’ve heard about it by now.”

“It’d be all over social media,” Mara adds.

Nina has her thinking face on. “What if it’s not a real bird? What if it never was? Corbierre’s taxidermy. What if we’re looking for one that was always made of plastic?”

“What do you mean?” I question, not quite following.

“The Mysteries of Anubis,” Nina states. Mick and Mara turn pink at the mention of the play (must be thinking about their prolonged-kiss when the curtains fell when the first act ended). But in that play, Fabian played a character inspired by Victor—complete with a prop raven. “The raven.”

“It’s still backstage with the rest of the props,” I recall. “That has to be it. Great job, Sleuth!”

“Let’s go!”

The curtains are drawn when we arrive. There are boxes of props spread across the stage, but none of them have our prop raven on top. Nina orders us to start digging for the raven in such an authoritative, leading tone that not one of us pauses to verbally question why on earth all of these boxes are laid out so nicely for us. These weren’t on the stage when we were in here this morning.

I throw a feathery scarf around my neck to get it out of the way, digging my hands into the box. “Monocle, flowers—does anyone know why there’s a lion mask in here?”

Mara pipes up, “The school play the year before you came was The Wizard of Oz.”

“Cool. Who was the scarecrow without a brain?”

I’m about to answer my own question with Jerome’s name when Mick calls, a frown very evident in his voice, “Uh… over here.”

Mara, Nina, and I drop the props in our hands as we crowd around the box Mick’s rifling through. He’s holding the prop raven, the one we used for the play, in his hands, but there’s something taped to it. A photograph of a smiling familiar face.

“That’s Alfie,” I say slowly, reaching over to take the raven from him. Alfie’s photograph is taped to the raven we were told to find. What does this mean? Does it mean…. “Is Alfie the ‘him’ in ‘you might just save him?’”

“Okay, we need to tell Mr. Sweet now,” Mara says certainly, sounding freaked out now. More than before. “Whoever sent us on this scavenger hunt has Alfie!”

“We need to calm down,” Nina instructs. “Take a breath. It looks like there’s something written on the back. Maybe another clue that will lead us to Alfie or whoever’s leaving these.”

Before I get a chance to rip the photograph off the raven to read the next clue, there’s heavy footsteps from the door. Team Jackal spins around at the same time to see that it’s the group from earlier—Jerome, Patricia, Fabian, and Amber. They’re talking over each other but stop dead in their tracks when they see us staring at them.

“What are you guys doing here?” Fabian asks.

“We could ask you the same thing,” Nina responds.

Patricia’s eyes widen as she points to the prop in my hand. “That’s the raven we’re looking for! What are you doing with it?”

I counter quickly, “What do you want with it?”

Jerome steps forward and says bluntly, “Everybody, shut up.” The room falls silent, but he waits a few seconds to continue. In those few seconds, he looks across us. Then he concludes, “You got envelopes, too, didn’t you? Numbered one through four?”

“Yeah,” Mick confirms. “You’ve been running around school all day, too?”

Amber nods. “Looking for a clue hidden in mummy gauze. I need a manicure,” she remarks, glancing briefly at her nails (which are as perfect as always). Then she abruptly looks back up, pointing to each of us. “Wait, there are nine people in Anubis House. Where’s Alfie?”

Alfie Lewis. He’s the only Anubis student missing. He’s the only one who didn’t get an envelope.

“I haven’t seen him since first class,” Jerome says.

Patricia closes her eyes. “The last clue. It said something about saving ‘him.’ Alfie must be him!”

“It told you to find a raven,” I infer, raising the raven with the photograph of our missing friend. “This raven. With Alfie’s picture taped to it.”

“Nina just said there’s a message on the back of the photo,” Mara reminds us.

The other four rush to jump onto the stage with us as I rip the photograph off the raven, throwing the prop to Jerome. I turn the photograph over, my blue eyes scanning across the unfamiliar words. “It’s in Latin. Four parts.”

“We should work on this together,” Nina suggests. “Figure out where Alfie is.”

There’s four parts to the Latin message, and there’s eight of us. With us splitting into pairs of two and being assigned a part for each pair, it shouldn’t take long at all for us to figure out this message. Especially with the internet and online translation services at our fingertips.

In the end, the message reads: One clue is at the seat of learning. Another is at the amphitheater of activity. You must split up again, but you will find him.

“Whoever wrote this knew we’d work on it together,” Fabian remarks. “They have to know us personally.” His comment earns doubtful looks from the rest of the house. “I mean—look, they didn’t even start calling each other by their first names until a few weeks ago.” He gestures between me and Jerome. “And Ashley can still hardly stand him. And Patricia can hardly stand the rest of us. Not to mention them,” now he gestures to Mick and Mara, an odd pairing by anyone’s standards. “Who else would think we would work together to translate this other than someone who knows us well?”

“That narrows it down to pretty much just Victor and Trudy,” I say. “I don’t see Victor taking the time to draw all this up.”

“Unless he wanted us out of the house.”

“He’s out of the house, though,” Amber says. “We just saw him heading into Mr. Sweet’s office. And Trudy’s out handing sweets out to the freshmen.”

“Stop speculating,” Jerome interrupts, snatching Mara’s notepad with the full translation of this clue. “What does this mean?”

Mara shrugs. “Seat of learning could be any classroom. I don’t know what amphitheater of activity could be.”

“Well, think about it,” Fabian states, grabbing the notepad from Jerome. He taps his finger against the paper. “Seat of learning. Where’s all the knowledge in the school?”

“Definitely not in our brains,” I quip.

It’s not the answer he’s looking for. I also get a lot of strange looks from them.

Fabian rolls his eyes. “No, the library! It’s full of books. The seat of learning must be the library.”

“Great,” Nina comments. She presses her lips together. “Now what’s the amphitheater of activity?”

It’s silent in the room for a few seconds as we ponder it. The answer comes from the person we least expect. Mick says, “You know, amphitheater is another word for gym.” The looks he’s given could rival the ones just given to me. Then he raises his phone. “I googled it.”

“There’s a lot of activity in the gym,” Jerome points out.

Amber jumps up from the couch. “Team Ibis—we’re taking the library. Since our team figured it out.”

“You’re Team Ibis?” I question, perking up. Two important animals in Egyptian mythology are jackals and ibises. “We’re Team Jackal! I came up with it.”

“I came up with Team Ibis, too! I also gave us nicknames. Jerk,” she points to Jerome, identifying him as the one with the apropos name, “Nerd,” Fabian, “Goth,” Patricia, “and Jewel!” She points to herself, taking the hem of her skirt and curtsying.

I laugh. “So did I! I’m the Artist, she’s the Sleuth, he’s the Jock, and she’s the Nerd. Two nerds! Nerd-squared. What are the odds?”

Nina lightly clears her throat and reminds me, “Didn’t you translate the hieroglyphs singlehandedly? Wouldn’t that make you a nerd, too?”

“Okay, but I can’t do math.”

“But you can translate hieroglyphs.”

“Oh, whatever!” I exclaim, hitting her arm lightly. Nina pulls her arm away and laughs loudly. “Team Jackal—to the gym. Jock, you live there. Lead the way.”

Mick frowns as he stands. “I’m roommates with Fabian.”

The gymnasium doesn’t look out of place to me. On this Halloween, it’s being used as a sweets hub, with tables set up inside and adults handing out sweets to younger teenagers dressed in costumes. Trudy’s here, too, dressed as a classic witch.

“Does anything look different to you, Mick?” Mara asks him. “You were in here yesterday.”

Mick narrows his eyes as he looks around the gym. Nina and I share a glance as Mara watches him intently. I know Mick probably has the layout of this place memorized, but would he really spot something so minuscule as a random clue in a room full of costumed children and the smell of chocolate wafting through the ai—

“The footballs,” Mick interrupts my inner doubts. I snap out of it and blink, following his finger point. There’s a stack of sports equipment with gauze-covered footballs. “They weren’t covered with gauze yesterday.”

“Gauze like mummy gauze?” I question.

“When you say football,” Nina says, “you mean a soccer ball, right? I mean, for me, the American.”

“Yes, he means soccer in American. There’s not an American football in the room.”

“I think an American football wrapped in gauze would be a cool Halloween decoration. Stick some googly eyes on it, make a body out of haystacks. We did that for decorations one year, me and Gran.”

“Like a Halloween snowman?”

“Yeah, but made of straw and googly eyes.”

“Nina, Ashley!” Mara shouts from across the room. She and Mick are already over there by the stack of gauze-covered sports equipment. Nina and I exchange an alarmed glance before running across the floor. She’s holding one in particular. “There’s writing on this gauze.”

Trudy calls, “Oh, hello!” We turn, waving meekly at her. “What a strange group, you four. Would you like any sweets?”

“Oh, no, thanks, Trudy,” Nina declines for all of us. “We’re just, uh… walking. Getting in some exercise before partying tonight—double the celebration, you know, with Ash’s birthday and Halloween.”

I completely forgot it was my birthday until she said that. Oops.

Trudy gives us a thumbs-up and grins before returning to handing out candy to the lowerclassmen.

Mara’s carefully unwrapping the gauze from the football. Mick’s holding the other end of the gauze and she hands the football itself off to me once it’s completely unwrapped. I can see the message through the thin gauze—and even with it backwards, I can tell it’s English. Thank God, no more translations.

“‘This clue you have figured out,’” she reads aloud, “‘beyond a shadow of a doubt. The final is nothing to write home about. Anubis is what it’s all about.’”

Nina gasps. “The final clue—it’s at Anubis House!”

Anubis House is decorated for the holiday, too. Well, as decorated as Victor would allow. As in, there’s fake spider webs on the sign outside, and he let us place some fake pumpkins around the place. That’s pretty much the extent he would let us decorate the public areas—our rooms were ours for the taking.

Team Jackal stumbles into the house, which is exactly the same as we left it.

“Mick, Mara, you take downstairs,” Nina says. “Look for anything out of the ordinary. Ash and I’ll take upstairs.”

Before we even get a chance to split up, a commotion from upstairs drifts down to us. It causes us to freeze where we stand before we run toward the stairs, skipping steps and nearly falling more than once. Bursting through the doors to the girls’ rooms, we’re met with the sight of Team Ibis talking over one another again, stood in front of the attic.

“What are you all doing up here?” I ask loudly, interrupting them. The four part long enough for me to spot a piece of paper taped to the attic door. “What does that say?”

Find the key and you’ll set him free.

“The spare key to the attic?” Mara inquires. I try pulling on the doorknob, but it’s locked. “That’s in Victor’s office.”

“I can pick the office lock—” Nina begins.

Fabian interrupts, “We already tried that. The spare key is missing.”

“Well, what about the attic door?”

“We were just arguing about that—”

“What’s there to argue about? Mara, do you have a bobby pin?”

My eyes jump around the door area, looking for anything strange about it. I can see Mara in my peripheral vision pulling a bobby pin out of her hair, but when I turn my head to see that fully, something glimmers from the top of the doorframe. I step forward, biting the inside of my cheek. There’s something on top of the frame.

“Hey, Mick,” I say without taking my eyes off the spot, “give me a boost.” Mick bends and holds out his hands so I can step onto them. He lifts me up long enough for me to grab the key. It nearly stumbles out of my hands as he sets me back down. “Got the key! Move, Clarke!”

“Don’t stab me with it,” Jerome says, jumping out of the way.

I push the key into the lock, turning it. The door unlocks and opens. “Team Jackal goes first,” I say lowly, looking at the dark stairs. “Well, me and Nina do. I have a weird feeling about this.”

I can hear the rest of them following Nina and I upstairs. She and I are holding onto each other’s arms, the cold key against my skin. We slowly round the corner together before entering the attic fully. There’s someone standing there with their back to us, dressed in a long black cape.

“Ah,” says the person in the attic, with a Transylvanian accent, “you have figured out my clues.”

And they turn around. The face throws me and everyone else into a state of confusion and shock.

“Alfie?!” Anubis House questions in unison.

Alfie grins at us, showing us his plastic fangs. “Hello, Anubis. Happy Halloween! Welcome to our party.”

“Alfie,” Jerome says slowly, “do you want to explain what’s going on here?”

“And why we were led to believe that you were in danger,” I add, “when you look pretty not-in-danger to me?”

“Oh, I was so tempted to put you two on the same team,” Alfie states happily, “but then I thought: no, putting my two best friends on separate teams was gonna work. Let me explain—I’ve been working on this elaborate scavenger hunt for months. Every detail, every clue, was drawn to perfection. I even tailored them to your interests.”

Fabian stammers, “Different languages interest?”

Alfie nods. “Yeah, that’s why I put you and Ashley on separate teams. I’m the one that put the idea of taking hieroglyph classes in her head.” I frown. Yeah, that’s technically correct. He more encouraged me to do it than outright told me to. “Mrs. Andrews helped me with the French clues, and Mr. Sweet with the Latin ones. I gave Team Tweedledee,” he gestures to my team, “the bat in the art room and I assumed you would take the amphitheater of activity because… well…”

“Oh, because of me!” Mick exclaims.

“Exactly! And I gave Team Tweedledum the mummies in the halls at school because of Fabian—and I’d hope you’d go to the seat of learning.”

Amber raises her hand. “I found that one. The one that said to come here. It was in a pretty book on the table.”

Alfie smiles warmly at her. “I knew you’d do that. And the hieroglyphs I found online. I put on a disguise and watched you all scramble to figure out the clues before coming back here when you figured out the Latin one. It was so much fun, you should’ve seen your faces.”

“Wait a second,” Patricia says, and there’s a warning in her tone. “You tricked us into going on this scavenger hunt, made us believe you were in danger, and watched us run all about the school for fun?”

Alfie nods. “Pretty much.”

“If this is a party, where’s the punch?”

His eyes widen as he steps back abruptly, bumping into the wall. “No need to pour punch on me or punch me, Trixie! This is a Halloween party. And,” he looks over at me, “it’s Ash’s birthday. I’m gonna be honest with you—I did forget today was your birthday until Fabian said something this morning. But hey, it all worked out!”

I narrow my eyes, stepping toward him. “You…are so much smarter than I thought you were.”

“Oh. I thought you were gonna say something about me being stupid.”

“You are stupid, but this was also fun until we thought you were in danger.”

“Hey, you guys would’ve pinned this on me the second you realized I was the only one who didn’t get an envelope and in a group. I had to take the suspicion off myself. So who’d you think it was? Victor, Trudy? Oh, was it Mr. Sweet?”

Alfie doesn’t get an answer as we all stare at him.

“Okay, so forget that I made you think I was in danger,” Alfie compromises, “and let’s get our party on! Go get costumed up and get back up here, because Trudy and Victor aren’t gonna be back for another two hours! Oh, and get whatever presents you bought Ash!”

Halloween-themed music and sound effects blast through some speakers set up in the attic as we dance around with each other. Amber’s dressed as (of course) a princess, Nina as Dorothy Gale, and myself as a pirate. Fabian’s recycled his costume from the play earlier this year (sharpie beard and all), Patricia’s a regular witch (no pun intended), Mick and Mara are doing a couples’ thing as Frankenstein’s Monster and the Bride of Frankenstein, and Jerome’s a skeleton. Alfie’s Dracula, the same costume we found him in.

Honestly, him being behind this whole thing was a plot twist I never expected. In hindsight, I should’ve realized it. He was so focused on making this work that he wasn’t very enthusiastic about Halloween in general.

But good for him. This was fun, figuring out the clues.

The presents I received for my birthday were perfect. It was mostly art supplies, but Fabian gifted me a book on Egyptian mythology and Amber bought me a bracelet that goes perfectly with my Ankh charm. The only person who didn’t give me anything was Jerome, which, to be honest, I expected. Although, he could’ve at least, like, given me a chocolate bar.

I sneak out of the attic with my empty cup, planning to go downstairs and fill it up with water from the kitchen. As I turn the sink on, I hear one of the doors in the hallway downstairs open and close. When I switch the sink off, my cup full, someone says, “Leaving the party so soon?”

Spinning around, I find that it’s Jerome in all his skeleton-glory. “Just getting something to drink. What about you?”

“Wanted to give you something,” he replies. He steps toward me, holding out a small, Halloween-themed gift bag. “It’s your present. I didn’t give it to you in front of everyone because I didn’t want anyone to make fun of me.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” I say sarcastically, taking it from him. “I’m definitely gonna make fun of you.”

“I’m sure.”

I laugh lightly, reaching into the bag. My fingers wrap around a long box and I set the bag on the counter as I pull it out. It’s a pen box, not one of those writing pens, but one for drawing. I’ve been on the fence about buying this exact pen for months. I didn’t know if I actually needed it.

“I went to that art shop in town you’re always talking about,” Jerome explains. “They know you by name there, you know that? All I said is I was looking for something for you and they told me about this pen you’ve been looking at forever. Said you never bought it.”

“So… you bought it for me?” I question slowly. I didn’t expect this.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to walk around that shop looking for something I have no idea about. This was the easy way out. Happy birthday, Ash.”

“This is, uh… very sweet of you, Jerome,” I say, blinking several times. “Thank you. Seriously. I didn’t expect this.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Afraid I’m gonna tell everyone the Tinman has a heart?”

“Hilarious, truly.”

I smile, shaking my head. I take his arm and pull him out into the hallway. “Come on. If we’re both gone for too long, they’ll think we’re up to no good. Happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween.”

#ch: ashley adams #ocappreciation #type: writing #q #happy halloween!!!#and happy 24th birthday to my fave ash!!!#god i missed writing her this felt good #the first clue (the one in french) was found on pinterest but the others are mine #(full disclosure: i do not speak french so i used google)#also i've had this written for two months it's been agony not being able to post it until now #also u can thank this one shot for getting me started on editing wlb

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bae-leth · 5 years

Note

Got any ideas for modern au for three houses?

I definitely had some trouble with this one, but I hope you enjoy nontheless

Edelgard is the most put-together girl you’ve ever seen. She heads tons of societies - Debating, Amnesty, all of them - has lots of awards, and is well liked by the teachers. Loads of people admire her from afar, but equally loads of people are also jealous of her.

She’s stressed from everything she’s piled on herself, but hides it well. (Until Dorothea physically drags her out of her room for a night out.)

Dimitri is still as polite and kind as he is canon, and this translates itself into a lot of charity work in a modern AU. He does a lot of fundraising with Mercedes, often for humanitarian crises. People flock to their bake sales.

His darkness? Let’s just say his childhood wasn’t very forgiving…

Claude on the other hand, flunks half of his exams and yet still manages to pass the course.

“Life is short!” he’ll grin, lounging about on the sofas. “Why waste it studying all day?”

Then, when the end of the year rolls around, people are marvelling at how the hell he managed to pull through with good grades…

(He’s certainly got some tricks up his sleeve.)

As mentioned, Mercedes does a lot of fundraising. She’s always doing bake sales, presentations, runs, hikes etc with Dimitri and Annette, but everyone especially loves their food. Sylvain and Caspar constantly get yelled at for stealing half their food when no one’s looking. the idiots

Felix has a part time job as a barista, which is funny because of his constant RBF.

He tries his best to look somewhat approachable, but when the customers still wouldn’t stop gawking at him after two weeks of working at the place, he gives up.

Dimitri sometimes comes in and waves at him from his booth, and Felix has to suppress the urge to chuck a muffin at his head.

(Imagine Felix in a Costa/Starbucks hat!)

When Dimitri orders, Felix scribbles ‘swole motherfucker’ down the side of his friend’s cup. He gets yelled at by his manager once when she sees what he writes…

“Hello, what can I get y- what are you doing here.” “Aren’t you happy to see me?” “GET OUT.”

Dorothea is a theatre kid, through and through. She’s in principal choir, she heads their annual productions, and she’s the one that gets the most frazzled during tech week.

She was such a convincing Regan when the academy put on King Lear that the rest of the Black Eagles met her after the play absolutely gobsmacked.

“You’re not going to encourage someone to rip my eyes out, are you??” - Caspar, worried.

“Oh, shush!” - Dorothea.

Manuela is that one teacher who overshares. Sometimes she’ll start a lesson, visibly frustrated, until she has to stop the class and complain about something or other to her students.

“A boy I tutor asked me how he could pass his entrance exams without taking notes. What do you mean, without taking notes? How are you supposed to do anything without writing something down??? I’m so tired.”

(Her classes love the gossip.)

Ferdinand is the one who gets stereotyped immediately as the snobbish one. (He was found once parking with a Jaguar, showing off, so the rumours flew around pretty quickly.)

It’s a tad unfair - he’s not that bad! - but his turning-up nose demeanor is definitely annoying at times.

(Imagine him surrounded by the politics lot.)

Once Sylvain threw an orange at him in the canteen. Absolute chaos ensued. The walls still haven’t recovered.

Bernadetta HATES presentations. She hates them with a burning passion, so her group always makes sure she has the least amount of speaking they can get away with. (She’s eternally grateful.)

However, she is goddamn good at rounders, whenever they hold friendly games. When she goes up to bat, the opposing team back far, far away from her.

(and wow, is that a good feeling.)

Each ingame house has a groupchat:

Black Eagles: ‘continental sausages 😔’ - Caspar chose this, and nobody understands why???

Blue Lions : 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR QUEEN!!! 👑👑👑’ (It’s Mercedes’ birthday!)

Golden Deer: 'shut up about my haircut, CLAUDE.’ (Same energy as that ‘MY HEAD DOES NOT LOOK LIKE A SODDING TIC TAC’ video. I wonder who wrote this?)

Lysithea is the Smash champion. She is so, so good. She’s sent Lorenz off in tears with how she wins every game effortlessly.

Linhardt hosts Kettle Society, and takes great pride in it. Caspar is banned after he actually brings a gigantic kettle in and yeets it at the former. Linhardt’s still got the scar.

#surprisingly difficult coming up with modern hcs oof. but fun anyway #ask #anon #headcanons #fire emblem three houses #fe16

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themurphyzone · 5 years

Text

Oneshot: Lollipops and Burritos

Summary: How does a studious man with big dreams and a slacker with no regard for the rules become partners? Easy, just make your own rules.

Spoilers for First Impressions!

Seriously I loved the Dakavendish in this episode like there’s so much it’s not even funny well it is but you know what I mean! Imma stop rambling now and get on with the story!

This was it. Today was the big day. On August 26, 2168, Balthazar T. Cavendish would pass his driving test with flying colors and become a full-fledged agent of the Bureau of Time Travel, an agency dedicated to protecting the delicate space-time continuum from evildoers, miscreants, and the shadowy Marmoset League.

Agents had it all: limousines with aquariums, high society parties, stylish tuxes and gorgeous dresses, and most importantly, recognition for their efforts in saving the world.

Cavendish always aimed high in his goals. What was the point of setting them if you didn’t aspire to achieve great things? When he was young, he dreamed of being a famous concert pianist.

Mozart had been invited to play in a royal palace when he was but a young lad. Beethoven composed despite his deafness. With the great composers of history as his inspiration, Cavendish had practiced and practiced until every note, rhythm, and key signature was burned into his mind.

But he was just a small fish in a big pond. He’d competed against children who fiddled before they walked, and the judges overlooked him despite his efforts to play everything as written in the piece.

So he turned to law in the Queen’s court instead. Barristers were fair, thorough, and had extensive knowledge of the precedents regarding a case. He would help the judges deliver justice for the innocent and punishment for the guilty.

Then Queen Elizabeth IV banned him from the royal palace for life because he dared to call her out for her refusal to compensate a florist for the damages that her precious corgi, Mr. Marshmallow Biscuit Longfellow, caused at his shop.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

He refused to go back anyway since Mr. Marshmallow Biscuit Longfellow urinated on his favorite suit and he had no choice but to throw it away.

Then Cavendish went back to school, taking classes such as Theoretical Mathematics of Time Travel and How to Avoid Erasing Yourself from History 101 until he’d earned his Bachelor’s of Science in Time Travel. Then he applied for a job at the BoTT and the rest was history.

Cavendish spent three harrowing months studying for this driving test. An important part of driving was knowing the car’s mechanics after all.

And when he passed, he’d be a full-fledged agent!

Despite his nerves, he forced himself to concentrate on his electronic manual for this particular model of time travel vehicle. Student drivers used basic 2160 Tempos for easy handling and an auto-pilot to help get them back on track if they accidentally wound up in the Dark Ages.

But if he clawed his way up to the S-Rank in BoTT, he could earn enough to buy a highly coveted 2167 Chronos Satellite, which was equipped to fly in the lower regions of space while providing a steady oxygen supply, temperature control, and enough safety features so that the driver didn’t accidentally hurtle to earth in a fiery blaze.

“The Time Delineation gear is for quick trips in local space, allowing you to move three times faster than local time,” Cavendish recited. He knew the book forwards and backwards by now, but last-minute cramming never hurt anyone.

“Alright, Cavendish,” he said as he stored the manual. Sounding confident was key. “You are on your way to becoming a fully-fledged time agent! This deserves a lolly!”

Alright, so he couldn’t resist a black currant lollipop. It was the best flavor on the market in his humble opinion.

Then the driver’s door suddenly opened, and before he knew it, he was unceremoniously shoved into the passenger seat by some...some hoodlum with the largest afro Cavendish had ever seen in his life.

The world was a cruel mistress. He spent all this time studying for this moment, and the payoff was being carjacked by some greaser who thought he looked good just cause he wore a leather jacket.

And to add insult to injury, the jerk wasted his last black currant lollipop.

Dakota liked food, music, and movies. He was just a simple guy with simple pleasures. While he’d be perfectly happy working in restaurant jobs for the rest of his life, it didn’t pay the bills.

Companies preferred robot workers these days. More efficient and less costly, they argued.

Most human servers worked in small family-owned restaurants, but they’d be out of luck in a few months when the patrons inevitably moved onto more snazzy, well-known businesses.

Two weeks ago, Dakota had the bright idea of dressing up like a robot and seeing how well he could imitate his mechanical co-workers at a popular fast-food joint. It worked for a few hours, but his appetite got the better of him and he was caught stealing chicken strips on camera.

He’d been carted off to jail and charged with impersonating robots without a permit. Humanity had advanced to flying cars and time travel, but they’d never been able to fix the justice system.

On the plus side, the incident had given Dakota the idea to get a permit so he could legally impersonate a robot.

He discovered the eviction notice after he’d been released from his week-long stay in jail. There just hadn’t been enough money to pay rent and groceries. He could pay rent and starve, or he could pay for food and allow himself to be kicked out.

It wasn’t a hard choice, nor was it a total loss. Dakota was already a recruit for the BoTT, and they had many private study rooms. They called it a study room, Dakota called it his bedroom, but either way, it was a room.

And the cafeteria food was delicious.

The morning of August 26, 2168 was just like any other. Dakota scarfed down his eggs and French toast, topping it off with a glass of orange juice. As he prepared to sweet-talk Penelope the mechanical cafeteria lady into giving him a second batch of eggs, the intercom beeped.

“New time agent recruits, please select a vehicle for your driving test. If you survive today, you’ll get your first assignment and partners tomorrow. Thank you,” a bored man in some serious need of coffee announced.

For some reason, the announcement had given him a craving for one of Rita’s burritos in the 21st century.

“Yo, Penelope, that a new ocular lens on ya? Looks good. Say, how ‘bout holding a few chocolate muffins for me? I’ll pick ‘em up later,” Dakota said, leaning on the counter lazily.

“My circuitry is heating up,” Penelope monotoned.

Though she had no outward forms of expression, Dakota knew from experience that circuitry heating up was the equivalent of blushing and that she would honor his request.

With everyone scrambling to file last-minute digital work (paper had been completely phased out), the path to the holding bay for student vehicles was clear.

After a brief round of eenie-meenie-miney-mo, Dakota headed over to the winning vehicle and opened the door, which thankfully wasn’t locked.

“Slide over, stretch. I need a ride,” Dakota said as he shoved the driver—a tall man with ginger hair and thick-rimmed glasses—aside and made himself comfortable.

“Wait a minute, who are you?” the other man asked indignantly. His accent was overly posh like one of those fake Brits on TV. He held a purple lollipop in his outstretched hand, and Dakota snatched it up, much to the other man’s dismay.

He was kinda funny actually, so Dakota decided to name him Stretch.

“Is this for me? Thanks!” Dakota exclaimed as he stuck the lollipop in his mouth. Something to suck on for the road couldn’t hurt.

Then an extremely bitter flavor exploded across his tongue, and Dakota yanked the lollipop out of his mouth, exclaiming his disgust for Stretch’s choice in flavor.

“BLECH! What flavor is this?” Dakota asked in disgust. He was going to need some extra salsa to get rid of this gross flavor that had no right existing.

“Black currant,” Stretch enunciated carefully, his eyebrows knitting together.

Yeah, didn’t look like they were getting along, especially if Stretch insisted that black currant was delicious and Dakota’s taste buds were the ones that were in need of major readjustments.

Dakota threw the disgusting lollipop over his shoulder, its purple juices making the entire thing stick to the window.

“Not even gonna ask what that is,” Dakota muttered as he started up the car and opened a time portal.

Good thing he knew a shortcut, because he seriously needed to get that lollipop out of his system.

Cavendish privately named this man—no, this unwanted hitchhiking selfish lollipop-stealing vagrant ‘Hoodlum’.

It didn’t matter how loud Cavendish protested. Hoodlum broke every speed limit law in the manual and in all of existence, took bends at two hundred temporometers an hour when the recommended was just fifty, and didn’t check the gauge to make sure they had enough time juice to last the entire trip.

In the span of thirty seconds, the vehicle was caught in the powerful jaws of a T-rex, used as leverage for a sauropod to reach some high-hanging leaves, and battered by an angry Triceratops.

By the time Hoodlum finally got them to the safety of paved 21st-century streets, the time vehicle had been battered and bruised to the point of being a miracle that it functioned.

“What. Was. That?” Cavendish asked flatly, too scared for his life that he couldn’t outwardly express his mortal terror.

“Shortcut through the Mesozoic,” Hoodlum said casually, as if he hadn’t just taken them on a crazy joyride that would’ve made them another statistic to the list of BoTT recruits who didn’t survive the training. “Come on, let’s get some burritos.”

Hoodlum pushed the eject button, and Cavendish was thrown onto the asphalt, his glasses knocked askew from impact.

“Tres burritos, Rita!” Dakota called to a nearby street vendor. “That means three burritos, Rita.”

This miscreant was actively sabotaging Cavendish’s driving test with his reckless, self-serving ways. Who did he think he was anyway? Cavendish’s anger boiled to a breaking point. He was sick and tired of being tossed around like a ragdoll caught in the whimsical fantasies of a child who’d never grown up.

“GREAT GRABKNACKLES! YOU RISKED OUR LIVES FOR A LOUSY BURRITO?” Cavendish stormed up to Hoodlum, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Cavendish ignored the dirty looks Hoodlum and Rita threw his way.

Any sane person would know perfectly well that burritos did not supersede basic self-preservation.

“No, no. I risked our lives for an amazing burrito, so good it only exists in this time and place,” Hoodlum retorted. “You want nachos with yours?”

Cavendish scowled and folded his arms. He would never sink low enough to accept food from Hoodlum. “You would make a terrible partner,” Cavendish snapped, pointedly turning his back to this scoundrel.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t asking,” Hoodlum replied.

That was the only sensible thing he’d said all day.

Stretch didn’t want a burrito.

Fine, whatever. Dakota tried, at least. Though who in their right mind would turn down an amazing burrito? Literally, an Amazing Burrito. It was right on the sign.

Rita quietly excused herself, not wanting to be part of the awkwardness that permeated the air as Dakota ate and Stretch grumbled.

Stretch seemed to have two speeds: Buzzkill and Even More Buzzkill.

Really, hadn’t this guy ever heard of fun in his life?

“It’s in the manual. Page 9, Paragraph 15, Line 5. ‘A recruit may not use a company vehicle for personal use’,” Stretch quoted.

Dakota had no desire to open the manual and check it himself, but he was pretty sure the manual didn’t have every individual paragraph and line marked. He almost felt bad for Stretch. He didn’t seem to have much of a social life if he memorized everything in that dusty old knickknack.

“THERE ARE RULES, MAN!” Stretch yelled, shoving the manual in Dakota’s face.

For a stickler, Stretch had no qualms about invading personal space and breaking rules on basic politeness.

Dakota had to give the man a point.

“I know, I just choose not to follow them,” Dakota proudly admitted. Rules never did anything for him, so why should he have to obey some stupid list?

“When we get back to our own time, I will be reporting you to the proper authorities,” Stretch said pompously, puffing out his chest in a pitiful attempt to be authoritative.

Really, his spaceman suit was working against him in that regard. It looked more ridiculous than anything.

Besides, the authorities never could make charges stick for long. Robots were so easy to bribe with spare nuts and bolts.

“Not everything’s in that manual. Sometimes you gotta improvise when the unexpected happens-” a strange whooshing noise caught Dakota’s attention, and he craned his neck to see a torrent of water carrying a battered school bus with a rocket sticking out of its roof and—were those kids being dragged behind on a broken back door?

“-like that! Those kids need help!” Dakota shouted, tossing his burrito aside as he leaped out of his seat. “Come on, let’s roll!”

He wasn’t sure how those kids wound up in such a precarious situation, but their bus driver was endangering their lives and not even slowing down so he had to do something!

As he darted toward the car, he suddenly realized how cool it would be if he could leap over the car hood like some inexplicably awesome action hero.

He felt like a regular James Bond, like a jerky 1980s movie protagonist whose trumpets bellowed their theme like they were some god descended to earth and-

He felt that solid concrete hurt.

A lot.

It all happened so fast. One moment they were locked in a vicious argument, then they saw children in peril (an incredibly strange sort of peril, but they called it peril for a reason), then Hoodlum shouted about rescuing them and wound up faceplanting into the asphalt as he tried to leap over the time vehicle’s hood.

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Cavendish would’ve been more than happy to hold it over Hoodlum’s head as karma.

Cavendish buckled himself a scant two seconds before Hoodlum gunned the engine, floored the gas pedal, and crashed through a fence without remorse for destroying public property.

Cavendish found himself not caring that they broke the rules regarding wonton destruction with a time vehicle as outlined on Page 45, Paragraph 6, Lines 3-7.

Fences could be replaced. Children’s lives could not.

As they pursued the school bus at a speed that surely couldn’t be safe for any car, much less a near-totaled one, Cavendish caught a glimpse of the panicked expression on Hoodlum’s face. He gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he wildly spun the wheel to avoid oncoming traffic.

Hoodlum didn’t know these kids.

But he would still shatter speed limit laws, risk crashing himself, and refuse to adhere to BoTT’s rules about revealing the existence of time travel before it was invented for them.

Cavendish had a feeling that he sorely misjudged Hoodlum after all.

The rocket propelled the bus into a river, and the children—dear White Cliffs of Dover how were they even holding on at this point—were getting further away every second.

“We’re going to lose them!” Cavendish shouted as the bus careened down the opposite fork in the river.

“Not if I can help it!” Hoodlum yelled, slamming the gas pedal to the floor and pushing their odometer to dangerous levels.

Cavendish clung to his seat for dear life, an uncomfortable pit of dread settling in his stomach that wasn’t just from being airborne and upside-down.

His first mission as a time travel agent would not end in tragedy. He’d never forgive himself if it did.

The moment they landed (right-side up thank goodness) on the opposite bank, the rocket suddenly ignited, pushing the bus and children even further out of their reach.

“They’re going too fast!” Cavendish bit back a curse. They’d been so close that time, yet the chance of a successful rescue had been snatched from their grip.

The water churned and swirled uncontrollably, throwing all sorts of flailing aquatic creatures into the air.

Just their luck, the children and the bus door they’d been riding on went airborne and the rope that tied them to the bus fell away.

Dakota gritted his teeth, massively frustrated that they’d been so close to getting those kids away from danger but failing every single time. “And now they’re airborne,” he griped.

“Wait, we’ll use the Time Delineation gear!” Stretch exclaimed.

Dakota had no idea what Stretch was talking about. They didn’t have time to waste. “The what now?”

“It’s the Time Delineation gear! It allows you to move three times faster than local time! That’s in the manual!” Stretch exclaimed, pulling a lever through a series of ninety-degree turns. A strange power surrounded the time vehicle, bringing everything to a near-complete standstill while Dakota maintained their rapid speed.

Water stood still, animals were suspended in their movement, and the children and door hovered in midair without being subject to gravity.

It was incredible.

If Stretch hadn’t memorized that manual, neither of them would have known about the Time Delineation gear and the children’s lives would be in even greater jeopardy.

When all was said and done, maybe Dakota could borrow Stretch’s manual and see if anything else in there would be useful.

If Stretch was willing to forgive him for the whole burrito thing, that is.

“Whoo-hoo!” Stretch yelled. “We’re actually driving on water!”

Huh. So Stretch could smile after all. Who knew? He looked good.

“Bet that wasn’t in your manual!” Dakota exclaimed.

He leaned forward, giving the car one last burst of speed before they went airborne a second time. The underside of the bus door hit the windshield, and he and Stretch held the door in place with their fingertips. The two children, a boy with an overly-large backpack and a girl with flaming red hair, had frightened expressions on their faces but seemed physically unharmed.

How two elementary-age children wound up in this situation, he had no idea.

Stretch pulled the Time Delineation gear back into its previous position with his free hand, and the timeflow went back to normal.

The rocket finally burned out, thank goodness.

Driving was harder with just one hand, and Dakota nearly rammed into the back of the stopped school bus in front of the elementary school. He was just glad the student driver cars had excellent brakes.

The momentum of their sudden stop caused the children to fly off the windshield and into the safety of the bus, the door slamming shut into place behind them.

Once Dakota and Stretch recovered from nearly hitting the windshield themselves, they sighed in relief.

The return trip to 2168 had been awkward, to say the least. Whether Hoodlum drove at normal speed because he wanted to or because the poor car suffered enough abuse, Cavendish had no clue. After Hoodlum’s reckless yet heroic driving, Cavendish decided to hold his tongue for once and make plans for the imminent future.

Cavendish knew he didn’t have the best track record when it came to working with others. Back when he played piano, he never worked well with an accompanist. Too often those sessions devolved into a screaming match over tempo and dynamics. He’d cultivated a reputation for being uptight and obnoxious in the barrister community.

It would be difficult to work with someone he didn’t know, but he supposed he’d manage. They would just be work partners after all. Their work and personal lives would never intersect.

He was just thankful that the vehicle maintenance department didn’t ask too many questions about the battered state of the car. Apparently, many student driving cars didn’t survive the BoTT driving tests and wound up being used for scrap metal to build cheap robots.

The next day, Cavendish was called into Mr. Block’s office to meet his new partner. Cavendish had passed his test with flying colors. He was lucky they scored him based on how alive he was rather than what he did on the road. If anyone thought to check the vehicle records, they would’ve been horrified by what Hoodlum put the car through. And Cavendish would’ve likely been mistaken for an accomplice.

“Okay, let’s see what we got here,” Mr. Block grunted as Cavendish walked into his office. Cavendish’s heart raced, and he wrung his hands while Mr. Block looked over the official document that stated who Cavendish’s new partner would be. “Recruit number 68427, Cavendish. This is your new partner, Vinnie Dakota.”

A figure stood up from the plush chair in front of Mr. Block’s desk, and Cavendish froze. That afro and leather jacket would forever be burned into his memory.

“Hoo boy,” Hoo-no, his name was Dakota, Cavendish reminded himself. As in North Dakota and South Dakota. Dakota rubbed the back of his head, avoiding Cavendish’s eyes.

“It’s you!” Cavendish gasped.

Fate sure loved her irony.

But Cavendish derived some satisfaction from knowing this was just as awkward for Dakota as it was for him.

Dakota was completely stunned, his eyes flickering between Cavendish and Mr. Block.

A bubble of anger rose up. How dare Dakota show his face here, how dare he act like he didn’t endanger their lives, how dare he pretend saving two kids was nothing, because that was the most courageous act of foolishness Cavendish had ever seen in his life.

“Wait a minute, do you two know each other?” Mr. Block asked suspiciously as Dakota stared at Cavendish as if expecting a tirade on how he would never work willingly with someone who breaks speed limits just because they couldn’t control their hunger.

Cavendish threatened to report Dakota to the proper authorities, and he was always a man of his word.

“Here it comes,” Dakota muttered, resigned to his fate.

“I’ll tell you exactly what I know about this man,” Cavendish said.

There were a million things Stretch could say that would incriminate Dakota right then and there.

Sabotaging a new recruit.

Taking an unauthorized trip through the timestream with a company-owned vehicle.

Using the company-owned vehicle for personal reasons.

Stealing his favorite lollipop.

Reckless driving.

Dakota normally didn’t give a second thought to his rulebreaking, but geez, he was feeling lower than a discarded piece of gum on a leather boot for dragging along an innocent man who could potentially do great things in his future.

“When someone is in trouble, he’s a good man to have around. Balthazar Cavendish, pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” Stretch said, extending his hand in a formal greeting.

Shocked by Stre-Cavendish’s formality and calm but respectful tone, Dakota stared at the offered hand for several tense seconds before finally grasping it in a firm handshake.

Dakota wasn’t usually forgiven so easily, and Cavendish most definitely struck him as the type to hold a grudge. Still, it beat getting into trouble with the authorities.

On another note, didn’t he see that old surname on bananas at the grocery store?

“Pleased as well. And thanks,” Dakota finally managed.

“Don’t mention it,” Cavendish replied.

“I won’t,” Dakota grinned.

“Though I might,” Cavendish said, his eyes narrowing. “Later.”

Dakota had no doubt that his new partner would indeed follow up on that threat. “I’m sure you will.”

By this point, their handshake was less of a handshake and more just rhythmically moving their arms up and down together.

“Whatever. Get out of my office,” Mr. Block snapped.

Unwilling to be on the receiving end of Mr. Block’s wrath on the first day, they hurried out and the door automatically closed behind them.

“So, partner. What kinda mission do ya think they’re gonna send us on?” Dakota asked. They passed by a secretary’s desk, and Dakota discreetly snagged a cotton candy lollipop from the jar left conveniently on the side.

“Well, I believe they’d start us off with reviewing old cases,” Cavendish mused. “It would help us learn the patterns, see which areas of time require more of a presence, and help us catch the perpetrators who dare mess with the planet and its inhabitants. Which would include evil scientists bent on misusing the field of discovery for nefarious purposes, hunters intending to swipe the most valuable objects in history, and worst of all-”

Cavendish snatched the unwrapped cotton candy lollipop out of Dakota’s hand, stuck it in his mouth, pulled it out, and stuck it on the window behind him in one smooth flourish.

The man was so smooth at revenge.

Dakota felt a light tap along his jaw, and belatedly he realized Cavendish had closed his mouth for him because he was too stunned to do it himself.

“-lollipop thieves who revel in stealing and wasting other people’s favorite food,” Cavendish smirked. “I believe I said I’d mention it later. Don’t look so flabbergasted, man.”

“You are one petty stickler, Cavendish.”

“And you are a reckless hoodlum, Dakota.”

“Square.”

“Carjacker.”

“Stick up your butt.”

“Scoundrel.”

And that’s how Dakota knew it would be the dawn of a beautiful partnership.

#milo murphy's law #balthazar cavendish #vinnie dakota #dakavendish #mml spoilers #fanfiction #oneshot

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