#that he has never done a day of manual labour in his life and he should probably start doing some kind of physical activity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrs-hyperfixed-writes · 3 years

Text

Are You Single - 2

Tag List: @becomeunsolved @ambiguous-g @favorite-slytherin-weirdo @a-weirdperson @artist-bby

The reader makes their way through Castle Dimitrescu, encountering the Lady and her daughters. Heisenberg might just have to re-evaluate his opinion of you when you're the unexpected victor of the battles with them.

You had ran through the glorified saw trap, avoiding Lycans and giants alike as you listened to Heisenberg’s taunting. Evidently he was an asshole, but that didn’t seem to be stopping the butterflies in your stomach going mad at the way he spoke to you. Fear had briefly crawled up your spine when he had dropped the spinning log of spikes, blocking your exit and apparently sealing your fate. Thankfully there had been a crevice in the wall, big enough to drop your backpack down by your side and protect yourself. The only thing that took damage was the handcuffs. It had briefly occurred to you that it seemed a very convenient hiding space in an otherwise foolproof killing room.

You ended up back at the gate that you had been captured at, looking over your shoulder this time as you pulled the lever up. Not that you could do anything if Heisenberg or his overgrown sister decided to double check. It seemed unlikely that either of them would treat you to a meal, but you could hope. If you were being honest with yourself though, Heisenberg hardly screamed refined dining.

No, he seemed more like a man who would order a McDonalds or a Burgerking after he’d been working tirelessly all day on a machine in a tank top. All sweaty. . . you smacked yourself in the face, snapping yourself out of your fantasy. You needed to get a grip. Preferably around his throat or his-

You slapped yourself again.

You left through the gate, coming out to an unpleasant looking vineyard. Of course, Dimitrescu was far too high and mighty to get her hands dirty doing manual labour, and any staff that she may of had to maintain the vineyard were probably dead. You shuddered at the thought of so many deaths. You didn’t know any of those people, didn’t know anyone in this godforsaken village that had been put in the middle of nowhere except for the few that had just survived long enough to be brutally killed in front of you. No one would remember any of the dead. It was as if they never existed. And if you died here - which you likely would - you would likely not be remembered. Not with fondness anyway.

You were brought out of your dark thoughts by the sound of a man groaning and wood creaking. You looked up, and to your surprise found an old-fashioned wagon settled in front of the entrance to Castle Dimitrescu. The doors swung open, and someone all but rolled out. The man was massive, both in height and weight.

“I’ve been waiting for you, my friend,” he said with the attitude of someone who was excited to get down to business.

You stopped a couple of metres away, taking it all in. How was this man even alive? Then again, Dimitrescu was nine feet tall and she seemed like she was functioning better than most people. Especially given that the tallest man in history was nearly nine foot and died super young. You could come to terms with this mans existence in no time.

“Who are you? How do you know me?” You let the uncertainty show in your voice.

“Me? I am but a humble merchant,” he said as he rubbed his hands together. “And you’ve been the talk of the town recently! An unknown human outsider making their way through hordes of creatures with nothing but an axe and some second hand guns? Remarkable.”

You hated yourself for the light blush that crept up your neck at the compliment. You never blushed.

“What can I call you?”

“Ah, forgive my manners. You can call me the Duke. Your name please?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I already know it, but some people prefer to tell others their name rather than have the introduction stolen from them.”

You chuckled, deciding to bridge the few metres of distance. “(Y/n).”

“Pleasure. Now, would you like to purchase anything for the journey ahead? Medicine? Ammunition?”

“Can you tell me what’s happened here?”

“Ah, information. All I can tell you now is that Mother Miranda has seemingly abandoned the village she has spent a century ruling. Slaughtered the villagers.” He took a long drag of a cigar he had lit before releasing the smoke into the air. “It seems she’s done it for her daughter.”

“Her daughter? Dimitrescu? Or the woman in the veil?”

“Ah, Lady Donna. But no, neither of those are her real daughters. It’s doubtful she even considers them such. The same for her sons.”

Your thoughts drifted back to Heisenberg. Did he hate her for that? For not considering him her child? Questions for later.

“Then who?”

The Duke regarded you for a second. “Sell me those crystal skulls you’ve collected, make a purchase and find me in the castle, and perhaps I’ll know more.”

You blinked in surprise, briefly wondering how he knew that you had been collecting the crystallised remains of those Lycans. Truthfully you just thought they were pretty.

After selling the remains and buying yourself some extra ammo, as well as some of the strange medicine the Duke advertised that was supposed to encourage cell division, you nodded to him in thanks and turned to face the castle.

“Although I must say,” The Duke called out before you could make much progress, “why do you wish to go into that castle? You are a stranger. There is no stake in this for you.”

You took a deep breath. Why were you doing this? That beast under your skin wanted to answer. To find and tear them apart. For revenge for all the dead. To satisfy my own need for blood and pain.

Instead you said, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

You walked towards the doors.

***

The inside of the castle was. . . beautiful. Definitely a place a lady would live. Perhaps a place you would live in another life. It seemed as though everything was trimmed with gold, including the beautiful waist high vases decorated with beautiful women. The furniture was of the highest quality, the rugs and carpets plush enough to sleep comfortably on. They looked expensive enough to cost more money than you’d ever had in your entire life. You wiped your muddy boot on the rug you were standing on, leaving a dark smear.

The thing that drew your attention most of all was the portrait that dominated the opposite wall. Three women, admittedly indistinguishable from one another, sat in big dresses. The plaque identified them as the three daughters. Three daughters that loved entertaining foreigners.

A bad feeling overcame you, and you decided to tuck your handgun into your boot, regardless of the discomfort. You covered it with your jeans.

You pressed on until you came to a main chamber that had another set of double doors decorating the walls. A scream rang out, clear as day and stopping you in your tracks. The scream of a woman in terrible pain. Part of you thought that maybe you should try to find her, but something in you knew that it had been a death scream. The agonised scream of someone who wanted to live and was denied.

You swallowed, instead making your way to the double doors, wondering where they lead.

“Well, who’s this then?” an upbeat female voice asked.

You turned to look, and only found three swarms of flies buzzing closer. And right before your eyes, they materialised into three beautiful young women. The daughters. The first thought in your head was how the painting didn’t do any of them justice.

You didn’t even have time to take your gun out of your backpack before the woman on the left - a tall blonde with blood on her mouth - grabbed you by the throat and lifted you clean off the floor, slamming you against the door. She pressed her face closer to your shoulder and took a deep sniff. You shuddered against the feeling of her nose tickling your neck.

“Fresh blood,” she said, voice dripping with a desire that put you on edge.

“Mother says you have to share, sister,” said the redhead with a childish delight, the brunette nodding in agreement with a sadistic grin on her face.

That scream echoed through your head again. The blonde stared into your face, looking for the traces of fear that likely coated their usual victims. She was going to come up empty. You cleared your throat, looking down into beautiful but evil eyes that had probably been the last thing that so many had seen, and spit right in her face.

The grin on her face froze as the glob made contact with her cheek, and then dropped off altogether when her sisters roared in laughter, one of them doubling at the waist and clutching her stomach.

She threw you to the floor, tossing your backpack aside and growling at her sisters to silence them. You leaped towards it with the intention of pulling your shotgun out, deciding to keep the handgun a secret. But she grabbed a fistful of your hair, most of her materialising back into that swarm as she did so. She dragged you through the halls, her sisters flanking you. You clawed at her hand, but to no avail.

Another swarm got too close, a face materialising. The brunette. She ripped one of your arms off of where it was clawing at the hand that felt as if it was going to rip your scalp off. She held it up to her mouth and grinned. You didn’t even have the chance to scream as she sank her teeth into the side of your forearm, digging in deep. Then she pulled back, laughing. She hadn’t done it to feed, only to hurt you. The other sister came forward, her face materialising as well to lick up the blood that was leaking down your arm. She left little bites of her own up your arm. But these were more like love bites.

Suddenly they stopped, and the oldest released the grip on your hair, using her momentum to throw you into a wall.

“Mother,” she started, “I bring you fresh prey.”

Oh no.

You turned, out of breath from the hurt your body had suffered.

“You are so kind to me, daughters.” She took a deep drink of wine and rose from her chair. “Now, let's take a look at them.”

You didn’t get up from the floor, not having the energy or the stupidity to make a scene right now. Not as she fully turned and looked down at you.

“Well, well. A nobody with no name worth knowing or manners to speak of makes their way to my castle do they? Well, you escaped my little brother's idiot games did you? Let’s see how special you are.”

She beckoned to the blonde and the redhead. They each grabbed an arm, forcefully hoisting you to your feet. You squirmed a little, but their grip was like iron as they held up the arm with the bleeding bite mark. Lady Dimitrescu raised a brow and looked back at the remaining daughter.

“Cassandra? What did I say about waiting?”

Cassandra looked down at her feet, almost seeming to be ashamed. “Apologies Mother.”

Dimitrescu gripped you by the wrist and lifted you off the ground. You gritted your teeth. She closed her mouth over the wound and sucked. If you were being honest with yourself most of your blood at this point had either transferred to your face or. . .

It wasn’t important. But apparently you needed therapy.

She dropped you suddenly, and you couldn’t help the shout that escaped your lips when your knees made impact with the floor.

“Just as I thought, nothing special.”

“May we devour their flesh now Mother-”

“But I am the one who captured them-”

“Now, now girls. First I must inform Mother Miranda of Heisenberg’s failure. But soon there will be enough for everyone.” She turned to the blonde daughter. “Bela, take them to the dungeons and shove them in a cell.”

Bela grinned at you, seizing your hair again as she dragged you along, leaving the laughter of her mother and her sisters behind.

***

Heisenberg was fuming. Not that you had escaped his trap. To be perfectly honest there were several design flaws that he wasn’t going to admit to and he really couldn’t have cared less if you had exploited them to get away. If you were running through the village, then something was bound to get you eventually. That was what he had figured anyway.

No, Heisenberg was angry because that overgrown, egocentric, glorified vampire bitch had ratted him out to Mother Miranda. He could just imagine the smug way she had said it over the phone. That grin she would have. He wished he could have buried his hammer into her face.

Miranda had expressed her disappointment in him, not that he gave a shit. But it would likely mean that she would watch him for a while, at least while she had time to spare. Preparing that stupid ceremony would take her a few days at the very least. And in that time she could do anything.

He slammed his fist down on the table. With you in Castle Dimitrescu he couldn’t even entertain himself watching you scramble around the village. Couldn’t taunt you. And he didn’t want to risk working on his army, just on the off chance that Miranda caught wind.

He hadn’t even seen you before that confrontation in front of the castle gate, and he just assumed it was blind luck you’d made it that far.

He’d probably never know how you got on in the Castle, because there was no way you were leaving that place alive.

He looked at the yellow jar on his desk, tempted to just throw it and it’s contents into a pit of molten metal. It would be kinder to the kid than whatever Miranda had planned.

***

You had been shoved in the most stereotypical dungeon in the world. It was something straight out of some Frankenstein-ish novel. Bela had left, promising that she would come back soon to retrieve you for dinner. You had given her your most hate filled look, your eyes promising nothing but violence.

That must have been ten minutes ago, and you were furiously searching the cell. You had found a gap in the wall, and in it a crumpled sheet of paper. You straightened it out, beginning to read.

To whomever is trying to escape this place,

I hope this note will be of some assistance. You don’t know me but you will have to trust me if you want to survive.

First, you need to get out of this cell. Look around for the way, get on your hands and knees if you must.

Then, search for the thing you’ll need to

escape. It will be hidden where they’ll

least suspect, soaked in blood.

The rest of the note was illegible, at some point being soaked with dry blood. You hoped that whoever had written it had gotten out.

You took the notes' advice, getting on your hands and knees. There! Under the wooden board attached to the wall there was a hole that you could crawl through. You got on your belly and went through, ending up in the next cell. You tried the door, and to your relief it opened.

You took your gun out of your boot, preparing to go into the dungeon deeper for your way out.

***

Monsters had patrolled the dungeon. Horrible emaciated monsters that held swords. The first one you had encountered held a sword, and you shot it with glee, picking the sword up. A perfect chance to conserve ammo. It was in good condition too. You sliced and hacked your way through, making it to the second part of the dungeon. You could see the stairwell at the end. Your heart soared. At least until you had to wave a fly out of your face.

“I can’t believe Cassandra caused all this mess.”

Bela. Part of you wanted to turn around and fight her, but you were sadistic not stupid. Bullets against a swarm would be pointless. Instead you ran for the stairs, shooting up them until you came to an entrance that was boarded up. Because of course it was. You attempted to hack at the boards with the sword, but it was already too late.

“Where are you going little one?”

“Oh for fucks-”

You turned to be confronted by Bela, her white teeth stark against the drying blood coating the lower half of her face. She picked you up by the neck again, throwing you through the wooden boards. You lost the sword to the far wall, instead bringing out your handgun as she mounted you, desperately trying to inflict some damage on her even when you knew the bullets would be useless. She just laughed at you.

“Bullets cannot harm-”

CRACK.

You both looked off to the side, just in time to see a window shatter and let in all the cold air. She jumped off and you skittered back, getting to your feet. She was. . . solidifying, only a few lone flies breaking away from her before the cold killed them.

And she was angry.

“You stupid-”

You shot her.

She reeled back in pain, screeching. You smiled, and shot her again.

She charged at you, raising her sickle over her head to slice at you. You ducked away from her and grabbed your sword, swinging it to block her next swing. You kicked her in the stomach, putting some distance between the two of you. Then you shot her again. And again. You could tell that she was almost done. One more bullet or swing of the sword and she’d probably shatter.

You put your gun down on a table, the sword following it.

She was doubled over in agony for the moment, but she still managed to look at you with eyes filled with hatred. The perfect mirror of the look you had given her when she had tossed you in a cell. You laughed at her again, the sound ringing right through the room. You didn’t care if it could even be heard throughout the castle. The daughters had a weakness, and if they wanted to fuck around and find out how you could exploit it then that was their problem.

“It’s funny how things just switch around isn’t it?” You asked her between manic bursts of laughter.

You charged at her suddenly, tackling her to the ground. She wasn’t nearly as strong as she had been. She clawed desperately at your thighs, screaming again as the force she was using caused them to begin to crumble. It was childish, but you got a grip on her hair and pulled as hard as you could, laughing at the screams she made as cracks spiderwebbed down from her hairline down to her eyes. Then you reeled your fist back, gave her one final smirk, and punched her in the face. Her head practically exploded into pieces. You felt yourself drop to the floor as most of her crumbled. Except for one thing. The upper half of her torso had crystallized into something beautiful. You picked it up, wondering if the Duke would buy it.

***

As it turned out, the Duke had his own special room in the castle, and he did buy the torso and the sword. You also managed to retrieve your backpack. It turned out that that medicine was bordering on magical, as the only thing left of the horrible bite Cassandra had left was a scar. Even Daniela’s hickeys were gone.

To your chagrin, if you wanted to open those double doors in the hall you were going to need four masks. The Duke provided the first one, The Mask of Sorrow. He had winked at you, telling you that this would avoid another encounter with the Lady. But when you had asked for his explanation about the events in the village, he simply told you he didn’t have it all yet, but he would at your next encounter. You thought that was bullshit. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

And now here you were, reaching for the animal's skull off the wall, hoping that maybe it would have the solution to opening that grate without having to replace the mask.

“I was worried my sisters had gotten to you first.”

Fuck. You froze. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was by the door. You looked around the room, desperate to find a solution. You had only narrowly escaped her getting into the room. Trying to get past her while stuck in here would be impossible. Then you felt it. A draft. There was a gap in the wall being concealed by a bookshelf. You moved it, looking around for Cassandra. She was still by the door, taking her sweet time getting to you. You examined the gap. There was no way this was going to be enough to petrify Cassandra. Then you remembered the weight in your pocket. You had picked it up in the dungeon. A pipe bomb.

You felt the air shift, and had just enough time to duck as Cassandra swung at you. Taking cover on the other side of the room, you threw the bomb and covered your ears. Cassandra screamed at the bite of the cold air, somehow being louder than the initial boom the bomb had made.

“You’ve ruined the hunt!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said happily. “I’m having tons of fun.”

You pointed the shotgun at her as she charged, unloading it into her face. She stumbled back. And you did it again, not giving her time to recover. The shotgun was much more powerful than the pistol had been taking care of Bela, so it wasn’t long before Cassandra was at the same stage Bela had been before you had killed her.

“I take it back. That was kind of disappointing. I thought you’d have more in ya.”

And you don’t know if she just realised she was dying, or if she just wanted to kill you so bad that she threw common sense out of the window, but she charged at you with her weapon raised. You didn’t even move out of the way, just caught he raised wrist and squeezed. It crumbled beneath your hands. She tried to hit you with her other wrist only for you to do the same thing.

“Mother!” She cried out with all the emotion of a scared little girl. “Mother!”

You grabbed her by the front of her dress, letting her see into your eyes. Letting her see the toothy grin you were giving her that was more like a snarl. The irony of the situation struck you. Whereas it would have been her eyes brimming with cruelty and madness before, now it was yours. But you had never been afraid. Not for one second. But she was. And it made you grin even wider.

She called out for her mother again as you dragged her to the wall. You kissed her on the nose, giving her a smile that someone might give a lover, and used all your innate anger and cruelty to shove the bitch against the wall.

She shattered, leaving behind only that crystallised torso.

***

His sister had said she would call Miranda when the outsider had been killed. Well, her words were dealt with properly. Emphasis on the properly apparently. Miranda was supposed to let the rest of them know when the outsider had decided to stop being a nuisance and finally bit the dust.

But no call came. From either of them. Hell, Heisenberg hadn’t heard a goddamn thing from anyone. So. . . was the outsider still alive?

He had to admit, he didn’t expect that.

Maybe he needed to change up his expectations.

***

“So you finally came to see me?”

The final daughter. Daniela. You would have preferred not to deal with her right now, given that her mother had just surprised you and evading her through her music hall had been no small task. She had been angry and seething with bloodlust. You supposed she had learned about the deaths of her older daughters. The fact that she had sent Daniela up against you after you had proved that they were practically useless against you wasn’t scoring Dimitrescu any good mother points.

You shot at the window above. But it refused to break, and the swarms had blocked the doors. You looked around, noting that on the other side, on one of the pillars was a handle.

“Everyone always falls for me.”

You ran around her, gripping the handle and swinging it down with all your might. She screamed in agony, running to get out of the direct frozen wind. To your dismay the handle slowly turned up. Who designed this?

She was running through the bookshelves, trying to hide from you. So deranged, but slightly smarter than her sisters it seemed.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I- Why are you doing this?!” you retorted.

You pumped the handle down again before chasing her, shooting her in the back. She darted around a bookcase, circling around you and trying to get the jump on you. But you were ready, giving her another one. You were beginning to get bored of these sisters.

“You three don’t really put up much of a fight do you?”

“I thought you loved me,” she snarled.

“What the fuck has that got to do with anything I just said?”

You shot her again. Then once more for good measure. You got up close and used the butt of your shotgun wo hit her in the stomach, forcing her back.

“I don’t wanna die,” she cried out, almost begging you not to go any further with the tone she was using.

“Well you know, neither did anyone in this village or this castle but shit happens I guess.”

You threw the gun down and got a grip on her throat, dragging her to the handle where you pumped it down again. Her attempts to get away from you and out of the cold were desperate, but you maintained that grip on her neck. Slowly, your grip tightened, and you thought you could see the beginning of tears in her eyes as cracks started to multiply on her throat. You did it slowly, savouring the way her throat gave under your hand. The window was nearly shut now. You blew her a kiss, then you balled your fist, crushing her throat completely.

The window shut.

***

“The entire bloodline of House Dimitrescu is done in by the likes of you?”

You smiled at her, even as she stalked you with her claws out. She had caught you while you were figuring out which mask went where. Luckily, being so big meant she was slow.

“Damn right it is.”

“Have much blood and sweat do you think it took to raise those daughter?” She swiped. “You have incurred an impossible debt!”

The genuine sadness and pain in her voice was something that might have swayed someone else, but not you. Not after the Duke had explained what those monsters in the dungeon had really been. Not when you knew the secret ingredient of that wine. Not when that scream rattled around inside your skull.

“What? You want me to feel sorry for you? Want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness while you slice me apart? How many daughters have you murdered and turned to slaves?” You slotted the third mask in before darting just out of her reach. “You didn’t consider how many fathers and husbands you bled dry in your dungeons. Your daughters deserved to die! You deserve to die! None of you get a free pass just because I’d have sex with you!”

She made a noise of disgust and sliced downwards, narrowly missing you. You darted to the last statue, putting the mask in. The door opened and you bolted.

***

You pushed open the coffin, finding an old corpse clutching a beautiful knife. You picked it up, testing the weight. That is, before you were spun around and lifted by the neck again. Evidently this family had a choking kink.

“You ruined everything!” She screamed.

She got ready to plunge her claws deep into your stomach, but you were faster, instead driving the knife into her chest. She screamed, throwing you through the window behind you. You accidentally let go of the knife, and it tumbled off the side of the building.

You looked back at Dimitrescu. She was in pain, and obviously weakening. But large, fleshy wings sprouted out from her back, a tail soon following.

And then she was crashing through the wall, nothing but a female torso and head on the back of what looked like a dragon straight out of one of your nightmares.

“Flesh! Bones! I will devour all of you!”

“Bring it on, bitch!”

***

“Curse you.”

And those were her last words. It hadn’t been easy, but you had done it. And you smiled at her as you did so. Given that same demented smile you’d given her daughters. You still wore it.

You looked around, still half mad from the bloodlust. The only thing of note was a yellow flask, so you snatched it up, grinning even wider as the wall opened into the outside.

***

Dimitrescu was dead. Heisenberg grinned. Well, he certainly didn’t expect to watch you walk out of the castle through the camera he’d placed in the area. He hadn’t even expected you to have lasted five minutes, but evidently you were made of sterner stuff. He was impressed.

You were covered in the dust of her dead daughters, as well as Dimitrescu's own blood. It made your damaged clothes cling to your form, and as you got closer he could see the grin you were wearing, could see that deranged look in your eye. And then you looked up at him. Not just at his camera, but at him. As if you knew he was watching. Your grin turned into something else, and you brought your palm to your mouth, kissed it, and then blew the kiss at him.

He didn’t expect that to get his blood pumping. Didn’t expect watching you walk away coated in blood get it pumping even harder. What was this feeling? It wasn’t fear. It was almost like adrenaline. Almost like-

He looked down at his lap. “Fuck.”

He needed to talk to you. He would talk to you.

Hopefully he could lick the blood off of you after.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #Mother Miranda #Reader has a crush #reader is unstable #cw: violence #Cw: some torture #cw: blood #cw: blood kink

60 notes · View notes

angelmavmurdock · 3 years

Text

Our Little Secret: Part Three - A.R.

Word count: 2474 Summary: Time has passed and y/n and Arvin have gotten closer. But an incident with the bullies commences and Arvin has to step in.

Sorry this took so long!

Reader POV

I've been in New Coal Creek for a month now. And I couldn't be happier.

Lenora and I were inseparable and we would spend as much time together as humanly possible. And if she wasn't spending time with me, she was spending time at her mothers grave or with the new preacher that she apparently liked. I wasn't in the popular group anymore, thankfully, but I was still in the cheerleadin' team.

My Daddy had gotten a bit worse since we moved, though. He was weaker and completely not able to work. But he always told me to see my friends and have a good social life because I was working so hard in school, I didn't need the stress of my home-life, too. However, it still hung in the back of my mind.

Arvin picking Lenora and I up after school became a regular affair, almost daily. He would even drive us to Lenora's mothers grave where she would read to her and clean the stone. I was honoured she wanted to invite me.

As well as Lenora and I getting closer, Arvin and I were becoming close. I could tell he was still wary with me but I knew that was because he was so protective over her. She was his little sister and I was the typical popular girl. I got it. But he was softening up to me. Gradually.

He would always drive me home after a visit to the Russel's and he'd do it voluntarily now, like he wanted to take me home.

Arvin and I already had our own little joke. Every night at dinner, when we were supposed to be praying, we'd look up at one another and smile, sometimes make weird faces to try and make the other laugh. Then at night, when he'd take me home, we turned the radio up full volume as he drove me back to my house. We basically knew every song on the goddamn thing but it was never boring.

Arvin was the bad boy. A boy - or rather a man - who would never shy away from violence if need be. He was a heavy smoker and he liked a glass of whiskey or two after work. Technically in Coal Creek, he wasn't too bad. But everyone knew who he was and knew what he'd done (beating up those bullies of Lenora's more than a few times) so everyone was off with him. But I wasn't. I felt like I could see through that rough exterior. Deep down he was just an orphan who loved deeply. He loved his family.

Due to spending so much time together, I was beginning to like him more and more each day as he let his guard down a little. There was no denying in that he was a fairly attractive man, with his hands rough from gripping tools all day and his body taught from manual labour, he was fit and muscular - but not too much. Just right.

Although we didn't know each other extremely well, I felt like I had good enough knowledge to call him a friend. A close friend even. And any attraction I felt, any butterflies I would feel whenever he said my name or chuckled at a joke, I pushed it away from my mind. He's Lenora's brother. But part of me felt as if he liked me.

From the first day of meeting him, he'd always look me up and down with hungry eyes. Maybe that's just him attempting to be intimidating or maybe he's looking at me for other reasons...

Along with Arvin being a known 'bad boy', he was known as a submarine racer. He'd meet a girl or two at a spot out of town, usually in his car, and score with them. I never asked him about it and he never brought it up. It's not somethin' you talk about openly like that.

I felt curious about his 'double life'. I wasn't experienced with sex. I had kissed my boyfriend a few times in New York, but even then that was a lot. There was a part of me that felt shameful for even thinking about it. But another part of me burned with need at the thought of Arvin with a girl...or even me.

But those were thoughts for the dead of the night as I lay awake in my bedroom, staring at the dark ceiling.

The bell rang, signalling the end of the school day. Lenora and I walked out of class, arm in arm like usual and headed out. Arvin always wanted us to be as early as possible so we scurried down the stairs as fast as we could, soon being met by a tsunami of students. The doors were pushed open and Lenora and I walked forward, automatically going to where Arvin was usually parked. But he wasn't there.

Instead of the blue, rusted truck, fences and maintenance vans were in it's place, repairing the schools water system.

We started darting our heads around, looking for Arvin and the car.

"Where is he?" I asked, panic starting to settle in my stomach.

"I don't know...maybe he'll be in the parking lot." Lenora tugged my arm and I followed her.

As we turned the corner of the school, three of the jocks from the popular group stood, leaning against the brick wall with cigarettes in their mouths.

Lenora and I jumped and then froze, not knowing what to do. The boys menacingly smirked, throwing their cigarettes on the ground and then cracking their knuckles.

Lenora and I gripped each other's arms in fear as they began to surround us.

"Why don't we go back behind school, huh?" One of the boys spoke.

"My brother will be here any minute now." Lenora spoke shakily, looking at the ground.

"Come on."

They grabbed us by the arms, separating us. I screamed and resisted while Lenora shook in fear as they forced us around school to the back where the dumpsters were.

"Get off me!" I shouted, slapping one boy away from me.

They threw us onto the ground.

"On your fuckin knees, get down there." They spoke.

Lenora and I kneeled side by side. I looked over to her and she had her hands clasped in front of her, mumbling a prayer. I clenched my jaw and looked up at the boys. I don't think God's gonna get us out of this one.

One boy poked and slapped Lenora's face and I wanted to do something but I couldn't. Another boy came behind me and tugged on my ponytail, making me face the sky where he stood above me.

"I'd need a sack over your face just to get a hard-on." One boy said to Lenora.

"I have no problem getting off to you, darlin'." The boy above me said.

He then pressed his evident erection clothed by jeans to the back of my head.

"Get the fuck off me!" I tried to get out from his grip.

He tugged my hair tighter and I squealed in pain.

I briefly looked over and saw the third boy getting a paper bag from the trash and shoving it over Lenora's head.

"Hey!" I shouted, managing to get loose.

I reached for Lenora but the boy pulled me back, holding my arms behind my back.

"Let me go!" I protested.

"Lenora!" I screamed, kicking and flailing to try and get out from his grip.

The boys held the bag over her face and I could see her breathing heavily and panicking.

"Mother fuckers!" I heard a voice behind me shout.

Before I could react, Arvin came from behind me and launched at the boy holding the bag over Lenora's head, throwing a punch right over his nose. The boy fell to the floor with a thump and I watched as Arvin beat the boy up.

I kicked my foot backwards and up, aiming for the boys private areas who was holding me.

"Fuck!" He screamed, falling to the floor and letting me go.

"Lenora go!" I shouted to her.

She had shed the bag and nodded then fled.

I looked to Arvin and he was taking on two of the boys now, beating them both to the ground.

"Bitch!" The guy behind me shouted then wrapped his arms around me.

"Get off!" I screamed and resisted against him.

He threw me to the ground and my hands went out, luckily stopping my face from hitting the concrete but my hands and knees began to sting immediately. I felt something slash my hip as I landed on the ground. It must have been glass. But I couldn't focus on that right now. The boy stood above me then pressed my cheek to the ground, holding my hands behind my back.

"You're hurting me, stop!" I shouted.

"Hey! Get the fuck off her!" I heard Arvin shout.

I heard a crack and the boy fell right next to me, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Arvin knocked him out flat.

"y/n, quick!"

I sat up and Arvin held out his hand. I took it and hissed as I stood up, ignoring the pain to the best of my abilities.

"You okay?" Arvin asked, worry filling his bruised face, still holding onto my hand.

"I'm okay-"

"Fuck!" Arvin got beat to the ground by the two boys.

"Get off him!" I screamed at them, attempting to push and shove them but nothing was working.

I looked around hurriedly for something I could weaponise. My eyes suddenly clocked a crow bar lying next to the dumpster. I sprinted towards it then grabbed it, not even thinking twice before cracking it over one of the boys heads. He fell to the ground and blood spattered onto me. I gasped with shock but then the other boy stopped and both him and Arvin looked up at me with gaping mouths.

Arvin widened his eyes and held out his hand, motioning for me to give it to him. I threw it to him and he caught it, swiftly battering the other guy over the head then at his shins. Both boys were crying out in pain and Arvin kneeled next to them both.

"If any of you touch my sister or y/n again, I swear to God I will fucking kill you next time." He warned.

The boys just cried and groaned in pain, definitely getting the message.

Arvin stood back up, throwing the bar on the ground then turning to me.

I was still in shock from the whole thing.

"C'mon, let's go." He said, wiping his bloody nose.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and I wrapped mine around his shoulders, using him for support as we walked away.

We walked around the other side of the school to the car park and Lenora was crouching by the truck, praying with her hands clasped.

I looked to Arvin and he looked back to me.

"She just need to rest." Arvin spoke quietly.

I nodded, "Yeah." He tightened his arm around me and I felt flutters in my stomach.

"I'll take you to ours to clean you up. You can't go back home looking like that." Arvin said, sniffling casually.

I smiled, "Thank you, Arvin."

He gave me a slight smile back, "No problem, darlin'."

I flushed red at the nickname and he could probably tell.

We reached the car and Lenora stood up, immediately embracing her brother. I let go of Arvin and watched as they hugged.

"Where were you?" Lenora cried into his denim jacket.

"The school was shut off from that way, I had to come here."

She sighed, "At least you saved us."

They pulled away then Lenora launched at me. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and winced as I stumbled back.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly.

"I hardly got a scratch it was just scary." She hummed, pulling away.

That's when she looked at me and her eyes widened.

"You're covered in blood!" She exclaimed.

"It's okay it's not all mine." I laughed like it was funny.

"y/n! That's- oh no. Let's get you back to ours. Grandma and Uncle Earskell are out at a church gathering tonight so it'll just be us." She said.

We all hobbled into the car weakly and Arvin drove off. This time I was in the front as Lenora wanted to lie down in the back. The music played softly and I looked down at my - now ruined - cheerleaders outfit. I started to pick off some of the dried blood on my pleated short skirt, but it still left a stain behind.

"I know a trick for blood stains. Your outfit will be as good as new by the end of the night." Arvin spoke softly.

I smiled at the gesture and sighed with relief that it was all over. I lay my head back on the seat and rolled down my window, letting the fresh air blow over my face.

Arvin's POV

I watched as she lay back and opened the window. The wind brushed over her face and hair and despite the cuts, bruises and blood spatter, she looked almost ethereal. She reached her hands up into her hair and pulled off the blue ribbon, then the band, and let her hair fall loose around her shoulders. I had never seen her hair down before. She shook it and loosened it off then hummed softly, putting an arm out the window.

Her hair kept swishing into her face but she didn't mind. She looked pretty and glowing. I then realised that not only did I have to protect Lenora, I also had to protect y/n. I looked to the backseat and Lenora was crashed out.

I looked back to y/n and watched her as she shut her eyes, letting the wind blow on her face and her hair go everywhere. I didn't mind having to be protective over her.

I suddenly had an urge and of course I didn't fight it off. I reached my hand out slowly and brushed some of her hair behind her ear.

She didn't turn to look at me but she smiled, her cheeks burning red and hummed lowly in appreciation. I felt a sudden rush to my lower areas and butterflies in my stomach.

I always thought she was beautiful, I mean she was undeniably attractive. And the more I got to know her - despite us not being that close, I liked her more and more. But I would never act on it. I knew she just thought of me as Lenora's brother and the seemingly 'bad boy'. A girl of her class would never date me. But part of me wished she would.

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess95 @imagine-yourself-happy }

#arvin russel #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel smut #arvin russel angst #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel mini series #mini series #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #arvin russel fic #one shot #imagine #arvin russel imagine

75 notes · View notes

bakugouisabitch · 3 years

Note

Ziggy i work two jobs now and the second job is retail where i'm on my feet all day.

If you feel up to it, tell me how yb and malik would help each other relax after a hard day.

Omg this is so fucking cute of you 🥺 i sure can!!

((i’m so sorry to hear that that sounds so exhausting :(( i used to work in retail too and my sister still does work in retail where she’s on her feet all day and she always tells me how tiring it can get.. i can imagine what you’re going through might be even harder... i’m so sorry 🥺))

okay hc time:

hmm let me think 🤔

I can actually see Malik working in retail in a classy clothing store. But only as a “last option.” As the pretentious little bitch that he is, he’d actually be the type to aim in what is generally seen as a “higher option” in the working environment. I can see him wanting to do a job where he gets to feel important, like an office job for example. Whether it’s just as a secretary or an accountant, i can see him working in more “conservative” places, where he can put on a neat suit and walk around feeling classy and bossy, or feel a sense of accomplishment by communicating with customers in polite ways and telling them what to do 💆‍♀️ But if his choices are narrowed down i can picture him working in a clothing store as well. But that’s like the only retail he’d work in, otherwise he’d feel far too “above it all”. It’s like his last option because, pretentious as he is, he wouldn’t enjoy a job where he has to “serve” people in any way - and that also includes packing their clothes in a bag behind a cash register.

Bakura, on the other hand, is much more laid back with that like,,,,, he doesn’t give a fuck as long as he gets money sgsjhs If it was up to him he wouldn’t be working at all. He’d survive by just stealing what’s necessary to live (but ofc that would be impossible - unfortunately for him). Like, less communication with people and more manual labour is what he’d pick. I can even see him working in really “easy jobs” (also because it’s easier for him to adapt as a human in society after having been a spirit for so long) like for a fast food chain or delivering the mail or even just as a dishwasher. You know... working in places where he might even get the chance to steal something >.> (i might draw him in working clothes one day 🤔 the idea really amuses me)

Now, coming to your post-work relaxing HCs:

When Malik comes home after a hard day’s work I can totally picture him complaining. And like, a lot. He wants Bakura’s full attention and he wants him to listen so he can talk and talk and complain and lament how everyone is wrong and he is right. Yk at the end of the day, he is no boss or CEO in the office or whatever working place he chooses (unless he really builds his way up but that would take a lot of time) and that in itself frustrates him. No matter how much he can keep up the illusion of being the one who orders his colleagues around, as a matter of fact he isn’t. He also has superiors to listen to and he has to collaborate with others and, because of all of his complexities and issues he had growing up, he'd low-key feel humiliated by something so mediocre. So, as soon as he gets home he has to let it all out and complain about everyone. He mostly overdoes it in his stories tho’ and is quite the drama queen for even just minor things that didn’t go as he planned at work...

Bakura kind of sees through all of this, ofc, but he’s totally here for Malik in these moments. He gives him his full attention and nods and agrees to whatever Malik says, even if he knows he’s being a tiny bit extra with his tales. But he knows Malik needs his attention and a lot of praise and reminders of how good he is. Most of all in these moments. So he complies ofc to please his distressed boyfriend.

(kinda angsty HCs:) When his working day goes really bad, there are even moments where Malik would take out his whole anger on Bakura and start accusing him of being the problem (shameless self-promo: kind of like in the beginning of my fic here) . And it’s in these moments where Bakura stops with all the sympathetic demeanour and actually fights back. Because enough is enough, and Malik has a tendency to go too far with his words and his insults at times. But even if they end up arguing it’s a coping mechanism for Malik as well to let out some of that pent up rage he’s been feeling all day. And with Bakura actually fighting back instead of just caving in, Malik gets a low-key unhealthy sense of high/satisfaction too: One, because he has Bakura’s full attention that way, and two, because he longs for that kind of conflict. He’d even go as far as provoking Bakura on purpose to rile him up and get him to direct his whole anger back at him. And Bakura never fails to put him back in his place so Malik gets exactly what he wants at the end of the day. Yes this would also lead to a lot of steamy fucking but i‘m trying to keep these HCs sfw and it’s really hard with these two sdfghjkIn Whatever their way, they make up for it at the end of the day anyway and it’s like nothing happened once the stress leaves them so, no worries.

When Bakura comes home after a hard day‘s work he hates everything. But more in a grumpy/don‘t-talk-to-me kind of way. Unlike Malik, he won‘t be complaining about his job because he doesn‘t want to waste another second thinking about it now that it‘s his free time. He won’t be mentioning the “W” from work unless it’s totally necessary. As soon as he’s done working, he wants to pretend it doesn‘t even exist and like, use every second out of work for his own personal benefit. Being a thief/cheater of rules in life, he always makes sure to do as little duty as possible and he would even be the type to falsely call in sick and do stuff like that to not work. ANYWAY (sorry for digressing) once he leaves work he wants to make the best of his time and as soon as he enters home he‘d throw himself on the sofa and take his favourite drink (beer) and make sure he‘s as relaxed as possible. He‘s also particularly needy to have Malik on his lap in these moments and would love for him to just stay close to him and cuddle and caress and touch him. Ideally he’d want Malik to be his perfect nice malewife in such moments and when Malik is in the right mood he even complies - he’d do anything to hear more praise from Bakura over how good and perfect he is and would even prepare him a nice non-vegetarian meal just to please his boyfriend.

Unlike Malik, Bakura would love to have less conflict possible in his post-work moments and craves to touch and just have Makik all to himself in his arms. But if Malik happens to be in the wrong mood as well and kind of neglects Bakura in these moments, Bakura could become petty enough to scowl and brood away for eternity. He’d be low-key/indirectly demanding that Malik makes up for it later on. And this would lead to nsfw hcs as well sfjhdj sorry Malik would be like “hey what’s up?” and Bakura would just grumble with his arms crossed and looking away. Malik would have to tip-toe his way slowly in to not let him be moody and disappointed for the rest of the day, calling him “Habibi” or “Bakura-sama” (since he adressea himself with ore-sama so gladly) to soften him up, until Bakura can’t help but let a smile form on his lips and they would end up cuddling and fucking ofc and everything is fine once again.

Idk i just really like them exactly because they seem to clash for being so different but they always find a way (sappy as it sounds) to be perfect for each other at the end <33

((I hope these were the kind of HCs you asked for 🥺 sorry if they got far too long or psychological sgksjak I wish you good good luck and i hope in future you may find something that is less stressful for you 💙💜))

#sorry am on mobile #bakumali #yami bakura #malik ishtar #bakura #marik ishtar #malik #marik #thiefshipping #bakumali hc #yugioh #ygo #icouldbesus #ask #*#ziggy talks

11 notes · View notes

honestlyvan · 3 years

Text

Bulkhead Week Day 4

Headcanon: Some people are born into greatness...

Bulkhead is a class climber, and one of the few lucky ones for whom the class society of prewar Cybertron was working as intended.

He was forged a construction vehicle, probably a bulldozer or an treaded lorry, and started out working in infrastructure maintenance as a demolisher. He got dealt an extremely good hand in many ways -- being from the Northern Hemisphere, getting to participate early in his carreer in many significant infrastructural projects around the Torus, and also having supervisors who saw potential in him from the start.

After all, he had a knack for spotting problems before they emerged, excellent intuition for which implementations worked in the long term and which became maintenance hassles in a few cycles, and a good handle on which of his personal skills complemented whoever he was working with. His biggest "failing" as a potential leader was always a lack of ambition, with a side-order of not really being a risk-taker at heart, but being able to pick up construction-related skills on the fly, excellent visualisation skills and mathematical intelligence, and a big drive to always be doing good work will make up for a lack of natural-born leadership qualities. Confidence in your own skills is also a thing you can build.

He was sponsored for a reforging, for a construction specialist frame as a way to boost his opportunities towards leadership roles, and over his life he's done almost as much worksite management as he has manual labour, but the goal his mentors had in mind was to sponsor him all the way to higher eduation in Nova Cronum or Crystal City, probably architecture or infrastructural engineering.

The war may not be personal for Bulkhead, but it still feels like a disruption of his way of life. While he never made it into the intellectual class of Cybertron, and frankly wasn't even sure if that's what he wanted for himself, that was the dream sold to every productive mechanism, so he carries a lot of bitterness and anxiety, feeling like he "missed his chance" to make something of himself on his best moments, and actively feels like the opportunity to be anything was stolen from him in his worst.

Honourable mention goes to my other favourite headcanon -- if he hadn't been picked up by the Wreckers, Bulkhead would have probably eventually worked his way out of the infantry and straight into Autobot artillery. Excellent visualisation skills and mathematical intelligence are also good for calculating trajectories.

#Transformers Prime #Maccadam #bulkheadweek #brought to you by:#when ppl pick traits from Animated Bulkhead to incorporate into prime #for SOME REASON they NEVER pick 'genius level engineer with extreme passion for his craft'#Anyway YES this means I think Bulkhead is a wholeass nerd #he might not be a quick thinker but he has excellent memorisation skills and can do Stupid Hard Maths in his head for like #fun and entertainment #he was the absolute worst person to play cards or do the multiplication drinking game with #and a lot of his more obnoxious genius traits are tempered by the fact that he really just #DOESN'T like having power over other people. Like hello he can BARELY handle himself #A lot of it is also stuff he didn't strictly speaking 'need' as a construction worker #he just *had* it -- and it felt wrong to not *use* it somehow #There's definitely some geographical and social privilege at play that Bulkhead was even boosted out of the lowest labour class #but had the war not started? He probably would have gone far

16 notes · View notes

rosethornewrites · 3 years

Text

Fics I read this week

Some of these may have been read earlier than a week ago, but I tried to keep it contained. Not sure I’ll keep this up, but I’ll try.

Finished:

Rated E:

the origin of change, by kissteethstainred, rated E

Lan Xichen said, “Time for regrowth and mourning is, of course, the most important. But there has also been a—frequent—discussion of marriage.” He paused to drink more tea. He almost seemed apologetic when he added, “Your name has been brought up often.”

“For marriage,” Lan Wangji repeated.

Except with Wei Ying in the picture, nothing goes exactly as planned.

Opportunity, by brooklinegirl, rated E

Lan Zhan is jostled slightly and he turns in his seat to see a harried-looking man squeezing in next to him. There isn't an empty seat there, and the bar is quite crowded. "Sorry," the man says, sounding out of breath. "I know I'm all up in your business, I'll move, I promise, I just—" He blows his breath out. "I'm going to lose this seat next to you, that dude over there has been eyeing it, and it's mine as soon as this guy leaves.”

Rated M:

Oxymoron, by feline_somnambulist, rated M

Jiang Yanli was in the kitchen. She hummed softly along to music being played somewhere else in the house, as she shuffled carefully back and forth from the prep table to the giant vat of soup. The house smelled like pork rib and savory broth. As always, she was beautiful in her element, a goddess of her domain despite the limp and the leg brace.

Her phone rang just as Jiang Cheng entered the kitchen. She saw him and smiled as she made her careful way to the phone on the wall-mounted charging station.

Jiang Cheng put the stack of paperwork down on a counter. He got to the phone first, picked it up. It was Lan Wangji’s number. He rejected the call and put the phone in his pocket.

“A-Cheng? Is everything okay?” Jiang Yanli asked, a frown creasing her brow. “Who was that?”

It Ends With the Beginning, by feline_somnambulist, rated M

They fight. They part. Jiang Cheng is hurt. Wei Wuxian comes to help. Wei Wuxian runs. Jiang Cheng is tired of chasing. They fight.

Until The End, by abCEE, rated M

"When I -- when I tied my ribbon around our wrists, I knew what I was doing and I privately honored it." Wei Wuxian's brows continued to meet as he tried to understand where the conversation was going until realization dawned on him. "Wa -- wait! Lan Zhan, is it what I think it is?!!" "It is usually done at the end of a wedding ceremony --" "What-" "But it could have been acknowledged as an engagement." "Lan Zhan!" He cannot believe what he is hearing now. "But my ancestor revealed herself --" "And we bowed… three times. We bowed, Lan Zhan!"

In which wangxian are married since the Cold Pond Cave incident, knows how proper communication works, and had confessed in the middle of the Sunshot Campaign. Things went spiraling up and down from there.

Rated T:

as it should be, by Sienne, rated T

Post-canon Lan Qiren time travels to before the Cloud Recesses lectures. The Cloud Recesses are quiet and peaceful, something his home hasn't been in years. ...In fact, it is too quiet and peaceful.

Judgment Day, by Grace_Logan, rated T

Cornered Wei Wuxian sees only one way out after cluing in on the Jin's plan.

Welcome To Gusu, by perkynurples, rated T

Deep in the lush forests of Gusu hides an aging resort that hosts dozens of children every summer for an unforgettable couple of weeks. It’s where Lan Wangji grew up alongside Wei Wuxian, and when his childhood friend (for the lack of a better term) surprisingly returns years later in the position of Senior Counsellor, seemingly hell bent on causing the same kind of mischief that got him kicked out of Gusu in the first place, but also taller, broader and tanner than ever before, Lan Wangji knows he’s In Trouble. Or, this fic has it all: longing looks over campfires, found family dynamics, ill-timed skinny dipping, teenagers inappropriately shipping their counsellors, camp weddings...

Therapy is a Performative Act, by cinder1013, rated T

“What does your dad think of your comedy?”

“Oh, he hates it, but it pays the bills and I need it to pay for my goddamn fuckin’ therapy.”

Jiang Cheng stumbles into being a stand-up comic and his favorite topic is dear ol’ dad.

sorry, i love you, by moon_thief, rated T

lan wangji was practically seething as he watched it happen. what kind of person could be so careless, unruly, undisciplined-

and then their eyes met.

oh. oh.

Tremble a Prayer, by cqlorphan, rated T

They kiss, and Lan Wangji regulates himself. There are no tears pricking at his eyes. There is no lump in his throat. His hands are undressing Wei Ying, and then Wei Ying’s hands are on his hands.

“What is it?” Wei Ying says, between kisses.

Even with Wei Ying back, Lan Wangji's sadness overwhelms him at times. He tries, and fails, to keep it from him.

The Quiet Work, by ShipsAreLaunching, rated T

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian get a summons for help from a minor clan in Gusu. When they go to investigate they find a horrible truth, and do what they do best.

Rated G:

Ink Stains Not So Ignored, by Preludian_Staves, rated G

Qiren found something that he still couldn't bring himself to ignore about his youngest nephew's husband.

I’d buy a big house where we both could live, by failed2be_chill, rated G

“Ah, so you want to play with the rabbits and enjoy their soft fur and silly little nose twitches while your poor husband toils in the heat of the day with hammer and nail doing exhausting manual labour. I see how it is. It’s a good job I love you, huh?” Wei Wuxian kisses his husband’s soft cheek.

“Mn, very good.”

---

Or, married WangXian embrace the practical and symbolic joys of home ownership. Domestic bliss.

Family, by Speechless_since_1998, rated G

Jiang Cheng blinked as his brother while he played with the baby he was holding.

He hoped he had misunderstood, but he had proof that it was true right in front of him.

So he did the only sensible thing that came to mind, "Wei Ying, what the fuck ?! '

"A-Cheng, language!" Shijie scolded him with a stern look.

"A-Jie, you can't really accept such a thing!"

"Why not? He is so cute!" she said, making funny faces at the child, totally in love with him.

Was it possible that he was the only one with a bit of mental sanity left?

A Lonely Guqin (No More), by Asphodel_Meadow, rated G

Wei Wuxian is the first person who makes Lan Wangji want to have a duet.

piercing, by escapingaugust, rated G (read the tags)

Stolen Midnights, by hinotoriii, rated G

There are nights where sleep eludes Wei Wuxian. Where the demons of his past are too loud in his mind, reminding him of that which he could never forget, second life or not.

Unfinished:

Not Rated:

Disclosed Regrets, by zLanWuxian, Not Rated

The majority of the cultivation world are pulled into a room that suspiciously resembled the burial mounds. (Their golden cores were sealed too. As to why, nobody knew.)

They are invited to watch Wei Wuxian's life.

What will they do when they find out everything they believed was a lie?

(Or: The characters of Mo Dao Zu Shi watch Mo Dao Zu Shi)

Rated E:

Where You Fell, by Sweet_William, rated E

Years ago, Lan Wangji was a Senior in high school, readying himself for graduation and the coming years studying at the Gusu Lan Institute of Music. Everything in his life made sense, from his role in his family, to a future as a classical musician. The only thing that didn’t fit was the sudden epiphanies he had about himself brought on by his bothersome and flirtatious classmate, Wei Wuxian. When the growing attraction and friendship was cut short by the other boy’s disappearance, he mourned what could have been, but ultimately had to move on. What he didn’t know was that fate would bring them back together again one day, or the reality of how far apart two lives can diverge, how some can find peace and prosperity, while others can fall farther than he ever imagined.

A Narrow Bridge, by FrameofMind and Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle), rated E

Once, Lan Wangji made a choice to step aside. Ten years after Wei Ying’s death, he finds a way back to choose again.

Setting fire to our insides, by StarsAlignNomore, rated E

Lan Wangji dies after the thirty-third strike. Lan Xichen does not handle it well.

*fleabag voice* This is a fix it.

Rated M:

Live Again, Love Anew, by kkanime5555, rated M

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian finally speaks up.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan hums to show he’s listening.

“I think we traveled back in time.”

...

“I’ll go, Lan Zhan. I’ll come to Gusu with you.”

-----

Or,

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are soulmates and, upon Wei Ying's death, they are sent back to when they first met as kids on the streets of Yiling. From there, they both are taken to Gusu, where they are raised together, gradually learning of their shared feelings and finding out the mystery of who sent them back in time and why, all while planning how to save the world, preferably with all their loved ones left alive.

A Torn Red Ribbon, by shiroakuma, rated M

The night before they marched into the Nightless City, Lan Wangji was invited to join Wei Wuxian in his tent.

Unbeknownst to him at that time, it became their last real conversation.

In which, a resounding victory against the QishanWen Sect is won seemingly at the cost of Wei Wuxian's life. Lan Wangji still spends some time being heavily injured. Lan Xichen tries to pick the pieces left behind by the war. The Jiang Sect is renowned thanks to the revered Wei Wuxian and the cultivation world is plagued by unknown forces while Lan Wangji meets with Wei Wuxian in his dreams.

Sacrifices Made with Blood, by NocturnalFriend, rated M

Lan Wangji knew it was too late, there was too much blood on Wei Ying's hands already. Still, if he asked his brother for help, surely. There was a way to rescue the man who held his heart?

Or: Trust is not easily given and all to easily shattered. Lan Wangji learns this in the worst way, when Lan Xichen gives into the demands of the cultivation world. Although nobody could have predicted the whims of fate, giving them another chance at righting things.

What makes you sing?, by Fictio, rated M

Madam Yu was never known for her matchmaking skills but she was known for her inherent meddling. Though it still came as a surprise, when on one fine Saturday afternoon, she called Wei Ying and set him up for a blind date.

There She Rose, by Aiiiru, rated M

Many years had passed yet whispers and gossips about YiLing Matriarch still stayed alive like unruly weeds refusing to die.

"That damn Wei Wuxian must have cursed this year's harvest with 'unkillable' locusts" "But Wei Wuxian had died right?" "Didn't you know that her body wasn't found?" "I heard some cultivators saying that during the chaos, some people saw her leaving in a sword, flying away with someone else." "That must be the demon with whom she signed a contract, a female challenging three thousand or was it five thousand cultivators by herself? Hah!! She definitely has ties with evil creatures and ghosts." "I heard from my cousin in Yunmeng that YiLing Matriarch was born shameless." "Some say she was a male but took female form to seduce the ghosts of burial mounds and gain power by starting demonic cultivation" "Shhh! Don't talk so loudly! My cousin knew a man who loudly gossiped about Yilling Matriarch only to be cursed to death the next day"

Visitations, by Vir_Abelasan, rated M

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry."

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine.

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

Kiss My Wounds, Bless My Scars, by Pegunicent, rated M

When he is sixteen, Lan Wangji makes a choice. He becomes Wei Ying's bride.

Rated T:

the one where Jiang Yanli visits (and she's a fucking goddess), by ShippersList, rated T (part 4 of a series)

Wei Wuxian’s sister was a fucking goddess so it was a travesty she wasn’t being fucked like a goddess deserved.

Luo Qingyang decided to do something about it.

(Also, family feels and some plotting but that's beside the point.)

obscured in the shade of the willow, bathed in the light of the moon, by cloud_wanderer, rated T

Wei Wuxian leaves the Burial Mounds for the first time to attend his martial brother's wedding, and everything changes from there. (a.k.a. a universe in which Nie Huaisang schemes to thwart Jin Guangshan's plans and ends up saving Wei Wuxian and the Wens in the process)

Wei Wuxian meets Xiao Xingchen and helps found a sect in Yiling.

Inchoate, by Marinelifeclub, rated T

“Where would you even go once you left? Wait a few more years before leaving." persuaded Jiang Fengmian,

“Will I live to see that long?” Wei Wuxian whispered under his breath.

Jiang Fengmian felt cold at those words. He always thought his children would be the ones to heal the scars left by their mother on Wei Wuxian, but just the concise way he spoke about them, he knows that wasn’t true. Now his best friend’s son sat in front of him, confessing to not thinking he will live to see himself become a man. Cangse and Changze must be furious in their graves as the sweet smiling son they raised endured pain because of a jealous woman and a cowardly man. Sighing, he did the only thing he could to make things right and accepted the boy’s wishes.

At age 14, Wei Wuxian left Lotus Pier and never looked back.

Wei Wuxian leaves Lotus Pier and while things change something’s are just set in fate.

Here We Go Again, by Alliandra, rated T

He looked over to where the swordswoman was still fighting, but her focus seemed entirely locked onto that fight so it was unlikely that she could have had anything to do with the energy drain. He was still wracking his brain for something else to do to assist, so this thing didn’t kill them both, but now he was feeling weak, dizzy and currently not far from helpless.

~~~~~~~~~~

It has been several months since the events at the Guanyin temple and Wei Wuxian is wandering around on his own. After he helps a stranger kill a very dangerous beast he uncovers what seems to be a conspiracy aimed at ending his life. He heads back to Cloud Recesses with his new companion in tow, looking to get Lan Wanji's help in working out what is involved.

Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling made a surprising discovery under Koi Tower that may well be linked to the threat against Wei Wuxian's life.

Can they all work together to find out what is going on and put a stop to it, before something disastrous occurs?

Nie Huaisang's Ten Steps to Fix The Fucked Up Reality, by cosmic_zephyr (ProudHaikyuuTrash)

1. Find the time travel array in the Nie library 2. Convince (manipulate) Wei Wuxian to use demonic cultivation to activate the array. 3. Transmigrate to the body of your 15-year-old selves with Wei Wuxian and Survive his wrath. 4. Come up with yet another exaggerated, slightly concerning, plan to save Lotus Pier, Dafan Wens and your brother. 5. Use Empathy to make the Wen siblings side with you in the mess that is soon to come. 6. Kill the main Wen family and make Wen Qing the new leader of Qishan Wen so innocent people are not killed. 7. Annoy the hell out of Lanling Jin just for funsies and also a political statement because Jin Guangshan can suck it. 8 Preferably, just for your own sanity, find a way to kill Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao. 9. Work with Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing to solve the sabre problem of the Nie clan. 10. Live a happy life with your brother alive and the cultivation world not being the huge fucked up mess in your own time-line. P.S. Matchmake the pining pile of disaster and gay aka Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

Aka canon divergence where Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian (and Lan Wangji) travel back in time and save the cultivation world.

Deal, by Rahar_Moonfire, rated T

Nie Huaisang wants revenge for his brother. He also wants his friend Wei Wuxian back. Lan Wangji left the Cultivation World after Wei Wuxian's death and hasn't been heard from since. It's a good thing Nie Huaisang has spies everywhere. He has everything he needs to put his plan into motion: the notes, the instructions, the "willing body," and the patience to pull it all off.

Now he just needs to be sure Wei Wuxian survives long enough to pick up Nie Huaisang's bread crumbs, solve the puzzle, and shatter the Cultivation World again. The only person suitable for that job is Black Jade of Yiling, the husband of the infamous Yiling Patriarch, Lan Wangji.

Rated G:

Hadn't gone as I planned, by hamlets_ghost, rated G (part of a series)

Lan Xichen leaves the Cloud Recesses with Wei Wuxian and Wangji to meet his mother.

He cannot stay.

[continuation of 'Hold on to your heart']

#the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #CQL #mdzs

7 notes · View notes

chickensarentcheap · 3 years

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone -Chapter 26

Title: Preparations

Warning: it’s filler. I figured we needed some cute daddy Tyler. lol

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip

“When you met mumma, you guys were working together, right?”

Addie poses the question as she sits atop the kitchen island; legs swinging back and forth as they dangle over the edge, the heels of silver and gold glitter infused jelly sandals lightly thumping against the wood. She insisted on bringing one of her favourite pairs of shoes from home; arguing that she didn’t care that they were ‘out of season’ and that she would wear what she wants, when she wants, and no one could tell her otherwise. In the end they’d gone perfectly with the new ‘Christmas’ dress she’d picked out Bloomingdales; a vibrant yellow concoction with capped sleeves embellished with strips of lace, a sash around the waist that ties in an enormous bow at the back, and an elaborate tulle skirt several layers thick that shimmers in the light. Forgoing all the burgundy, emerald green, and red dresses that had lined the regular priced racks in favour of an outfit from the leftover and highly discounted summer section. It was a hill Esme hadn't been willing to die on; preferring that Addie showcase both her independence in choosing her own outfit, and being proud of her personal style and preferences. And it suits her; as bright and adorable as her personality with just enough ‘no fucks given’ sprinkled on for good measure.

While tiny and seemingly fragile, she can be extremely assertive and adverse to any form of compromise; tenacious to a fault and digging her heels in and sticking to her guns when she feels she’s one hundred right about her stance. Even if there’s mountains of proof to show that she is, in fact, completely wrong. Someone so stubborn and feisty lingering inside that cute, wee package; able to hold her own while out playing with her older siblings and not afraid to get a bloody nose or a fat lip or a black eye. And not deterred in the slightest when she DOES get injured; right back to what she was doing only hours after getting stitches or a cast removed. Not shying away from climbing trees or splashing in mud puddles or helping muck out the goats stalls while wearing clunky rubber boots paired with a Disney princess dress. Very much like her older sister had been at that age; enjoying being physical and active and playing sports and rough housing one minute, then showcasing her more ‘girly side’ the next. Loving trips to the salon with mummy for manis and pedis; enjoying picking her own shade of polish and then getting to sip orange juice from a champagne glass while getting a facial and her hair trimmed. Collecting dolls along with various rocks and shells and beach glass. Superhero figures taking up residence on her bedroom shelves right alongside stuffies of her favourite animals -koalas, sloths, and kangaroos currently at the top of the list- and snow globes from different parts of the world. Her closet filled with not only frilly dresses and sparkly leggings and colourful sweaters emblazoned with unicorns and french bulldogs and flamingos, but old hand me downs from her brothers; ripped and faded jeans and tattered t-shirts and board shorts.

“Right,” Tyler confirms, as he tends to running a brush through her waist length hair; damp from misting it down with a spray bottle in order to easier part it into sections.

It’s a far cry from his old life; his beaten and busted up hands with their multitude of scars and calluses once used to being soaked in blood and caked with dirt. Large and weathered with misshapen knuckles, they’d long ago gotten accustomed to hard, manual labour and the brutality that he’d had to inflict on others; fists that pummelled bodies and faces and fingers that pulled triggers and wrapped around throats and choked the life out of combatants. And while they still get caked in mud from working around the house and they’re still entrusted to load magazines and are capable of taking a gun apart in thirteen seconds flat, they’ve morphed into other uses. Beginning with diapering babies and tending to the impossibly tiny snaps on jumpers, buttons on little sweaters, and zippers on sleepers. Moving on to tying kid sized shoe laces and cleaning and patching up skinned knees and elbows. Advancing to far more difficult hair styling techniques than the simple ponytails he’d began affixing on Millie when she was a toddler; various styles of braids adorned with ribbons, and snapping barrettes and clamping clips into place.

Being a girl dad is unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. The six short years -despite the little time he’d actually been home- he’d spent with Austin had prepared him for raising boys. His son, when healthy, had been extremely active and fearless and full of curiosity and energy; getting as messy and as dirty as possible and loving every second of it. Obsessed with superheroes and sports and always clad in clothing that displayed his favourites; football jerseys and baseball caps and sweats emblazoned with Superman or Batman logos. He had been terrified twelve years ago when the news had come in that Millie was in fact going to be a girl; not only envisioning frilly dresses and a closet full of pink and those ridiculous headbands parents insist on putting on their infants, but thinking back to his own treatment of women. The days when he’d used them for nothing more than sex; random strangers picked up in bars or that he’d meet on the street in whatever city a job sent him to. A failed marriage; putting more of a priority on the military than he did on treating his wife properly. And all he could think about was how having a daughter was somehow a punishment for the bad shit he’d done. A little girl that he’d have to protect from guys like him.

It was hard to get used to; big fingers having to master putting in tiny earrings and tending to impossibly small zippers and buttons , getting comfortable with the amount of pink and purple in their rooms and closets. Eventually graduating into attending tea parties and playing with Barbies and helping make crafts; getting used to paint on his palms and between his fingers and glitter stuck under his nails and in his hair and beard. Determined to be a hands-on father even if its activities are way outside of his comfort zone; gymnastic meets and dance recitals as opposed to lacrosse matches and football games. Being a girl dad isn’t for the weak; having to worry about your little girls’ hearts being broken and if the guys they pick will treat them right and if they themselves will make smart and responsible choices as teenagers. And the hormones; the up and down emotions and the drastic switch from bitchy to overly sensitive. Having a wife go through it once a month is enough. never mind the thought of three other girls. The worry of how he’ll handle not only the emergence of puberty, but if all four female ‘clocks’ decide to sync up. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle THAT; all the women in his life going through the cramps and the moodiness and the demands to be coddled and babied one minute and left the fuck alone the next.

“Does that mean mummy beat up and killed bad guys too?”

“No. She never did any of that stuff. That was my job, not hers.”

“What did she do?”

“She tracked down the bad guys. And where they were doing mean things to good people. Then she told me...or guys like me...where they were so we could go and take care of things.”

“So you could go and kill them?”

“You don’t always have to kill people. Sometimes it’s enough to just rough them up a bit.”

“And other times they fight back and try to hurt you and you have to hurt them first?”

“Pretty much.”

“Have you killed a lot of people?”

“Not that many," he lies. It's actually a staggering amount; the death toll -from his hand alone- in Dhaka putting the count well over three hundred.

“How many is ‘not that many'?’”

“I don’t know, Peanut. I’ve never kept track.”

“But you’ve helped more people than you’ve hurt. That’s what mummy said when I asked if it was true. If Tyler was lying when he told me you kill people for a living.”

“That’s a while ago. That you asked mummy that.”

“I was three. That’s a whole two years ago. But sometimes I think about it. Especially when you go away. I think about you having to kill people.”

“And what do you think WHEN you think about that? About what I sometimes have to do?”

“I dunno know,” Addie shrugs, and then lifts the spray bottle clutched in both hands and holds it towards her face; giggling when she pulls the trigger and catches some of the mist in her mouth.

“Does it bother you? When you think about it? That I’ve killed people? That sometimes I still have to?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“Kind of a hard thing to hear, don’t you think? That daddy has to do stuff like that?”

“It’s your job. It’s what you do. You have to hurt people to save other people. And sometimes, if they try and hurt you first, you have to kill them. Because if you didn’t, they might kill you and then you never come home and we never get to see you again. It’s not THAT hard to hear. I’d rather you kill someone and come home than never see you again.”

“You know,” he plucks the spray bottle from her hands and dampens a section of hair. “You’re pretty smart for only five.”

“Smart like mummy.”

He leans in to press a kiss to her cheek. “Cute like her too.”

“Are you going to get in trouble? For killing people?”

“Who would I get in trouble with?”

“God. Isn’t that one of the things we’re not supposed to do? Kill people?”

“How do you know about that? We don’t talk about that stuff at home.”

“I hear things. At school. Some of the older kids talking. Are you? Going to get in trouble? For killing people?”

“Probably,” he admits. “I’m sure I’ll face some kind of judgement for it. When my time comes.”

“But wouldn’t it be okay ‘cause you only kill bad people? That were hurting good people? Wouldn’t that be allowed? And if you had to kill someone so you could come home to us, wouldn’t that be okay too?”

“I don’t know,” he snags a yellow cloth ribbon off the island and begins braiding a section of hair around it. “I’ve never thought that far ahead about things.”

“It would suck if you got in trouble for helping people. That wouldn’t be fair at all. If you got sent to hell for doing stuff like that. I mean, you were doing something GOOD. You weren’t doing something bad. You HAD to kill evil people to help good people. And to make sure you come home to mummy and us kids. I can’t see you getting in trouble for something like THAT.”

“Doesn’t make much sense to me either. But not a lot does anymore.”

“I’ll be really mad if you get in trouble and sent somewhere different than me. I don’t want us to be in two separate places. I want us to be together. All of us. You and mummy and all us kids. I don’t want us to all be separated. Well, maybe Millie could be. Because she’s mean to me. All the time.”

“Millie is going through some stuff. She’s going to be a teenager soon. A lot of drama leading up to THAT.”

“She says I’m annoying. That she used to really like me when I was a baby and couldn’t do anything. But now I can do lots of stuff and I can talk and she says that pisses her off. That I’m a bratty little sister.”

“You are NOT bratty.”

“Right? That’s what I said. She’s bratty if anything. Am I annoying, daddy? Don’t lie. You can tell me the truth.”

“You are not annoying. If anyone is annoying, it’s Millie.”

“I said THAT too! But she’s mean. She even threatened to cut my hair off. Shave it. Because I couldn’t find my brush and I borrowed hers and she didn’t like that. So you know what I did? While you were gone?”

“What did you do?”

“I took the tops off two Oreo cookies and I ate the middle and then I put in mayonnaise and I put the tops back on and gave them to Millie. I told her I was being a good little sister and bringing her a snack. And she put a whole one in her mouth! She almost puked!”

He can’t help but chuckle. “You actually did that?”

“Yup. It was awesome. I laughed so hard, I almost peed! But then she started chasing me around the house threatening to kill me. Mummy was screaming at her to lighten up, that it was just a joke. And then she told mummy to shut up and Tyler got mad. REALLY mad. He tackled Millie and grabbed her by the hair and pushed her face into the carpet. Then he put her in a figure four leg lock and made her cry.”

“Millie told your mom to shut up?”

“Oooops…” Addie tilts her head back to look at him, a sheepish smile curving her lips. “....I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part.”

“Who told you not to tell me? Millie?”

The five year old shakes her head.

“TJ?”

Another shake, followed by a tiny “No.”

“Addie…”

“It was mummy! She said not to tell you because you’d get pissed off and you didn’t need to. Because she took care of it right when it happened. Well, Tyler did. He was really, really, REALLY mad. She learned her lesson. I’m sure of it. He made her cry. Lots.”

“Did that happen a lot? Millie getting mouthy with your mom?”

“Not really.”

He stares pointedly down at her.

“A few times,” she reluctantly admits. “She said some things that were really mean. To mummy. And she said the F word once, too. Mixed with the B word.”

“She said that ? To your mom?”

Addie chews nervously on her bottom lip. “Yeah, she called her an f-ing B word.”

“What did mummy do?”

“She didn’t get a chance to do anything. Desi freaked out. And he’s really big and he can be really scary when he wants. Like you. Desi told her that she should never, ever talk to her mum like that. And that you’d be really mad if you found out. And that she’d rather deal with him than you. Which is true. Desi might be bigger than you, but you’re definitely tougher. I mean, he doesn’t kill people for a living. You do.”

“Things were pretty bad, huh? While I was gone.”

“A little. Millie went off the reservation. Big time. She’s lucky she’s even breathing. ‘Cause Tyler was ready to kill her. And I don’t blame him. You’re mad, aren’t you. Are you mad, daddy?”

“A bit.”

“You know how I can tell? That you’re mad? Your neck moves. Right here,” she reaches up to press to fingertips against the side of his throat. “Where the bad guy shot you a long time ago.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Mummy told me. I asked her how you got that scar. She said that a long time ago, her and Ovi were in trouble and you had to get them out of a really bad place. And then you made sure they were safe and sound, but a bad guy shot you. In the neck. And that’s why you have the scar there.”

“Did that scare you? Hearing that?”

“A little, I guess. I mean, you could have died, right?”

“I could have, yeah.”

“And then you and mummy never would have gotten married. And had kids. Millie would be the only one to exist. None of us would. So yeah, that part scared me a bit; that the bad guy could have killed and none of us ever would have been born. Did you kill him?”

“Eventually.”

“Mummy said she stayed with you. After it happened. And that she went back to Australia with you and that’s how she ended up there. It’s where you guys got married. And had Millie and me and Kota and Brookie. That we were the ones born there. So we’re REAL Australians, like you. Everyone else is American.”

“Everyone else WAS American. You’re all Australian now.”

“How does that work?”

“A lot of papers you have to fill out. To become a citizen. But you all are. Mummy and I made sure of it.”

“Is mummy an Australian too?”

“By marriage, yeah.”

“It’s a good thing she married you. You’re a lucky guy, daddy. That someone like mummy fell in love with you.”

“I am,” he confirms. “Very lucky. She’s a pretty good mummy, huh?”

“She’s the best mummy EVER. If we could pick our mummies, I’d pick her. Because she’s nice and she gives good cuddles and kisses and she tells the best silly jokes. And she’s super smart and really cute too. And little! Like me!”

“That’s where you get from. Being so cute and wee. You’re just like your mumma.”

Her eyes sparkle as she smiles broadly up at him; the corners and the bridge of her nose crinkle. “And that’s a good thing, yeah?”

“A very good thing,” Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he brushes the tip of his nose against hers; smiling at the way she throws her head back and giggles.

He’s seen her mother do that exact movement and expression a number of times; excitement while on the rides at Disney World with the kids, when she’s had one too many glasses of wine and even his terrible ‘dad jokes’ are suddenly hilarious, when they’ve been on one of their ‘mommy and daddy’ vacations and she’s gotten up the guts to try something new and exciting; emboldened by his encouragement and forever feeling safe and secure as long as he’s by her side. So much of Esme in the tiny little girl in front of him; tenacious and ferociously intelligent and loving deeply and fearlessly. Knowing the darkness and the horrors that exist in the world but not allowing herself to be tarnished by it; always finding ways to smile and laugh and find the beauty in every day.

“What do you think mummy would have done if she didn’t do the job she did?” Addie inquires, when she finally drops her head back down and he’s able to return to tending her hair.

“I don’t know. Teach? Be a nurse? Maybe a doctor?”

“How would you have met her? If she didn’t do her old job?”

“Maybe I would have met her on the beach. In Australia. Maybe she would have come there on a vacation.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you would have gone to where she used to live. In Chicago.”

“She used to live in Colorado. That’s where she was born and where she grew up. Chicago is a totally different place.”

“She used to live by the mountains. When I was in her tummy, you guys lived on a hobby farm. And you had goats and chickens. Mummy says we still own that house.”

“Yup, we do. We rent it out.”

“Can we go there one day? I’d like to see it. I’d like to see where you guys were living when I was in mummy’s belly. Is that where I was made?”

“We’re pretty sure that’s where it happened. Not many other places it could have been.”

“Maybe we can go and visit. And I can see where I was made. That would be fun. I want to see the mountains.”

“Maybe one day.” He finishes up the first braided pigtail, securing it with an impossibly small elastic before turning his attention to the other section of hair.

“If you met mummy a different way, would you have still liked her? Would you have still fallen in love with her?”

“Yup. Why wouldn’t have I? She still would have been mummy. She still would have been the same person. Still would have been the most beautiful girl ever.”

“Do you think she still would have fallen in love with you?”

“I sure as hell hope so. Would sure suck if she didn’t. Your mumma is pretty special, Peanut. She’s the love of my life. Took me until I was thirty five to meet her.”

“You were married before, though. To Austin's mom. You didn’t love her?”

“I did. But not in the way I love your mum. Your mum? That’s who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Grow really, really, REALLY old with. It’s a whole other kind of love. And you know what? It’s not easy to explain. You just know what you feel.”

“Imagine if things were opposite? If you went to Colorado and met mummy instead of her meeting you in Australia and working with you? And then you would have stayed there; where the snow and the mountains are instead of the beach and the ocean. How come you moved? Why didn’t you guys stay? Where the mountains are?”

“Things changed. We weren’t happy there anymore. We needed to get away. Go back to the place where we were the happiest.”

“In Australia?”

“Yup.”

“That’s where I’m happiest too. I love it there. I love how warm it is; the sun and the sand and the water. I like the sound it makes; listening to it when I’m trying to fall asleep. And I like how the beach feels; between my toes and when I let it run through my fingers. And I love my room and my toys and my school and my friends and all the goats and our pigs and our chickens. And Charlie. I love him the most. I love making him peanut butter sandwiches. I’d miss him the most. If we had to leave. We won’t have to leave will we, daddy?”

“I don’t see why we would have to.”

“I don’t ever want to leave Australia. It’s perfect there. It’s where I was born. And where you were born too. We have that in common. We were BOTH born there.”

“Yeah…” he grins, and presses a kiss to the back of her head. “...we were.”

“I mean, we have other stuff in common too. Because you’re my dad and that means you helped make me so that means half of me is half of you. The other half is from mummy. And we both love surfing. And animals. And Vegemite. I LOVE Vegemite. It’s sooooo good.”

“Speaking of Vegemite, was it you that left the Vegemite and Nutella sandwich for Santa?”

Addie giggles. “Maybe…”

“Why would you ever put the two of those together?”

“Tyler made it for his school lunch once and he let me try a bit and it was really good! So I thought Santa might like to try it. Part American, part Australian.”

“You know, that’s pretty genius. And it worked. I tried a bit and it wasn’t bad.”

“Right?! You wouldn’t think it would work, but it does. Somehow. Kind of like you and mummy.”

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?”

“You and mummy are so different. You’re really tall and big and she’s really short and small. Like, you know how mummy is a morning person? She’s always really cheerful and smiley? And you’re not? You’re moody and miserable. A total grump face! And you don’t like to talk until you’ve had your first coffee. With three shots of espresso in it.”

“You notice all that stuff?”

“I notice everything. Mummy says I’m very observant. And that I have really good instincts. Like you. She says ‘cause my tummy tells me if something is right or wrong. And yours does too. You know how else you and mummy are different?”

“How?”

“Mummy talks to everyone! She’s very talky talky. A chatterbox.”

“Geez,” Tyler grins, and tugs playfully at the completed pigtail. “I wonder who ELSE is a chatterbox?”

“She’s a social butterfly. She makes friends everywhere she goes. People like her. Because she’s so bubbly and cute and she makes peoples hearts feel warm because she’s so nice to them. You’re more serious. You don’t talk a lot. At least not to people you don’t know. People are scared of you sometimes. Because how big you are and because you got all the drawings on you and the scars and stuff. They think you’re mean. ‘Cause of all that.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think you’re just daddy. I KNOW you’re not mean. I KNOW you’re a nice guy. I KNOW you give awesome hugs; your arms are big but they feel nice and they wrap all the way around me! If people really paid attention, they’d see that you’re nice. You have soft eyes. They’re blue and they’re pretty and they’re kind. Especially when you smile and they go all crinkly. If people really gave you a chance, they’d see you’re not scary at all. You’re only like that if you HAVE to be. If bad people are near mummy or us kids.”

“Are you ever scared of me?” It’s a recurring thought; if his children ever pick up on the worry and the tension and the fear that comes with his issues. It’s a feat some days; forcing himself out of bed and putting one foot in front of the other. Wanting nothing more than to stay under the covers and surrender to the exhaustion that comes with doing battle with his own mind every day. But his family is his number one priority, whether it’s a good day or a horrible one. And he’ll ‘fake it until he makes it’ as long as his children and his wife know that they’re loved; provided and cared for and made to feel safe and protected.

“Why would I be? Why would I be scared of my daddy?”

“Well, you know what I do for a living. You know what I’ve had to do to people. Does that scare you?”

“Nope. Because that’s just your job. It’s not who you are. When you come home, you’re just daddy. You take us bike riding and hiking and swimming and surfing. And you help us find rocks and shells and you let me sit on your shoulders when we walk on the beach or go into town. And we take naps. On the hammock. I love our naps on the hammock.”

He smiles. “So do I.”

“Sometimes I get a little worried. When you get upset. Or you and mummy argue. I don’t like when you guys argue. I always worry that you’ll hate each other. That you’ll get a divorce. And then you won’t live with us. It makes me sad when I think about that.”

“You don’t need to be sad, Peanut. That’s never going to happen. I’m never going to go and live somewhere else. I’m going to stay right where I am; with you guys and your mumma. And just because we argue? That doesn’t mean we’re going to hate each other. I could NEVER hate your mum. And I’m pretty sure she’d say the same thing about me. We love each other. Very much. Divorce is NOT something you need to think about. But do I ever scare you? Have I ever?”

“I don’t have a reason to be scared of you. Because you love me. You’d never hurt me. I never worry about that. Not even when you yell and your voice gets REALLY loud. I know you’d never do anything mean to me. Just to bad people. And I’m not a person. I’m a GOOD person.”

“You definitely are. You’re a VERY good person. An amazing little person.”

She smiles. “Like mummy.”

“Just like her. More than even I ever realized.”

******

“Addie…” TJ singsongs as he saunters into the kitchen, both hands tucked behind his back. “...what are you doing?”

“Tyler!” She cheerfully greets, and excitedly waves to him with both hands. Her entire face lighting up at the sight of her second favourite male in the house

She’s become extremely close to her oldest brother during her five years on earth; idolizing him and turning to him for help and comfort when daddy is either caught up with one of the other kids, tending to work related matters, or out of the house -and sometimes even the country- all together. And TJ dotes on her in return. Spoiling her and babying her ever since she was an infant and he was always more than willing to help change her diapers and give her feedings. In awe of how tiny she was and how she’d look up at him with so much adoration. He’s the quintessential older brother; patient and loving and ready to kick anyone’s ass that dares messes with her.

“Look at my dress! It’s the one I picked out when I went shopping for mommy. That I kept a secret. Isn’t it awesome?”

“Awesome just like you. It’s really pretty, Ads. Your favourite colour too!”

“Yup! Mummy bought it for me. She said it’s perfect for me. For my personality. It reminds me of Belle’s dress. From Beauty and the Beast.”

“Looks a little like it, I guess. But you know what? It’s even prettier. And you’re more beautiful than Belle. WAY more beautiful.”

“Really?” she gasps, and a noticeable blush creeps into her cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. “You really think so?”

“I REALLY think so. Belle has nothing on you. You’re the prettiest princess EVER. Way prettier than ANY of them.”

“Oh goodness!” She clamps both hands over her mouth in embarrassment, then giggles into them. “Like mumma? Just as pretty as her? Mumma is the prettiest EVER.”

“Just a smaller version of her.” TJ leans in close and presses the tip of his nose against hers. “Guess what I have? What you forgot in my room?”

“Adeline!” she cries, when he reveals the item he’d been keeping behind his back. And she snags the doll from him and showers its head and face with kisses as she clutches it tightly to her chest. “Adeline! I’m sorry I forgot you! I didn’t mean to!”

“I kept her safe for you,” TJ says. “So Declan wouldn’t grab her. You know how he likes to get a hold of dolls and torture them. I didn’t want him getting her. She’s way too pretty and I know how much you love her.”

“He’s mean to my dolls! He’s always taking their heads off and putting their arms where their legs should be and crazy shit like that.”

“Hey,” Tyler frowns, and tugs on the half braided pigtail. “What did I say?”

“No bad language. Especially on Christmas Day. I can’t help it though; sometimes it just slips out. If you didn’t swear so much around us kids…”

“That’s it. Throw me under the bus.”

“You swear A LOT, daddy. Especially in the car. When other people don’t drive fast enough or use their blinkers. If mummy knew exactly how much you DO swear around us, she’d be mad. REALLY mad.”

“Your mum has a worse mouth than I do.”

“As if!” Addie scoffs, and he can’t help but smile; easily hearing Esme’s voice and picturing the expression on her face; the corner up her mouth and her nose scrunched up in disgust, eyes slightly narrowed. “Thank you, Tyler!” She curls an arm around her brother’s neck, squeezing as tight as she can. “You’re the best! Thank you for keeping her safe from the Ginger. You’re the best brother EVER! I only trust you with her. And daddy. That’s it. You guys are big and strong and will keep her safe no matter what.”

“What the hell are you wearing?” He addresses his son as the latter moves to the fridge, pausing in the braiding of Addie’s hair to survey TJ’s wardrobe a pair of ill fitting and impossibly baggy jeans, an enormous untucked dress shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a loose pink, purple, and grey striped tie.

“Your pants. And one of your shirts.” TJ reaches into the fridge and grabs a carton of chocolate milk and a jug of white. Closing the door with his hip and carrying them to the counter by the sink; pouring a mix of both into a plastic tumblr retrieved from the dish rack and then snagging two straws from the cupboard. “Mum told me to. She said none of my clothes were good enough for Christmas dinner. All my jeans have holes in them and all t-shirts have to do with surfing. We’ve never had to dress up for Christmas dinner before. Why do we have to start now?”

“Your mum’s trying to make things perfect. To avoid drama. With your grandmother.”

“Too late. Grandma brings drama with her. And drops it on everyone else.” He drags a bar stool across the floor and places it in front of his little sister. “Here Ads,” he holds the cup in front of her. “A yellow straw just for you. So you don’t have to share my germs. Let me hold it; so you don’t spill anything on your dress.”

Giving a delighted squeal and a smile of appreciation, she takes a pull from the straw. “I think you look handsome, Tyler. You’re growing up. You’re going to be as big as daddy soon.”

“It’s going to be a while before I’m THAT big. But I’m going to work on it. As soon as I’m allowed, I’m going to lift heavy too and put on ALL kinds of muscle.”

“Then you can go after bad people too. And beat them up and kill them when you have to.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tyler suggests. “Something tells me mummy might have an issue with that.”

“Why doesn’t mum just tell grandma to get lost?” TJ inquires. “It’s not like they like each other. They never have. They’ve always fought. I remember how they’d get into it at Christmas. When we were still living in Colorado. Grandma would get drunk and she’d pick fights with mum and mum would fight back and cry and then you’d go off on grandma. Is that going to happen this year? ‘Cause it’s been nice and quiet at Christmas. Do we HAVE to listen to grandma's shit?”

“What did I just tell your sister? About the language?”

“She’s five, but she’s right. It IS hard to stop and it does just come out. But do we, dad? Do we really have to put up with her?”

“It’s one night. I think you can manage. If I can grin and bear it, so can you. Suck it up.”

“If she starts in on mum about ANYTHING, I’m going to lose it. That’s my mum. No one talks to my mum like that. I almost taught Jacobi a lesson. For calling mum cute and wanting to ask her out. I’ll teach grandma a lesson too. I’m not afraid of her.”

“If anyone is going to teach her a lesson, it’s going to be me. You stay out of it. Your mum wouldn’t want you getting into it with her. You’re TEN.”

“Doesn’t matter how old I am. That’s MY mum. And no one is going to treat her bad. We’re supposed to protect her, remember? You and I.”

“You’re supposed to be a kid and stay that way as long as you can. I’M supposed to protect your mom. And I think I’ve been pretty damn good at it for the last twelve and a half years. And if your grandma starts? I’ll stop it. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why does she hate you so much anyway? Is it still the same crap? How she’s pissed because you stole mum away from her family and moved her all the way to Australia? ‘Cause you got her pregnant before you married her?”

Addie scowls. “Who cares? Lots of people have babies and they aren’t married. And so what if mummy didn’t go back home and she stayed with daddy? She’s an adult. She can do what she wants. And she wanted to be with daddy. None of grandma’s business. I’mma tell her that too. If she starts saying mean things about daddy or mummy. I’mma tell her what for.”

“You’re not going to do a thing,” Tyler informs her. “You’re going to leave all the telling off to me, got it?”

“I don’t like her,” Addie says. “She’s not a nice person. She has a mean smile. And her eyes are empty. They don’t sparkle or anything like that. Are you sure that’s mummy’s mummy? Because when mummy smiles, her eyes sparkle. She LOOKS happy. Grandma? She just looks mean.”

“No one likes her,” TJ grumbles. “Best thing we ever did was get away from her. But IS that why, dad? Is that really why she doesn’t like you? Because she still thinks you stole mum and took her all the way to Australia?”

“It’s a few things.”

“I bet it’s the job too. I bet she really has a problem with THAT.”

“Again…” Addie huffs dramatically. “...who cares? So what if daddy kills people? They’re BAD. They deserve it. He helps good people and sometimes when he’s helping them, he has to kill the bad guys. I don’t see a problem with that. If they try and hurt him or kill him, he HAS to kill them first. So he can come home. To us. And mummy. It only makes sense.”

“If Ads can get it, ANYONE can,” TJ says. “She’s only five. What’s grandma? A hundred? If a five year old can get it…”

“Daddy makes the world a better place because he gets rid of the bad people,” Addie continues, as she takes another sip of the drink her brother offers her. “If we had less bad people, everything would be great. There’d be less wars and less people getting hurt and everyone would love one another and be happy. Daddy’s doing a good thing. By sticking up for people. Like you do. At school. You beat up the bullies when you have to. Remember the older kid that tripped me and shoved my face in the mud? Remember him? He’s in grade eight AND you kicked the crap out of me. Because he picked on me.”

“You’re my sister. It’s my job to protect you.”

“And remember that other guy? On the playground by mummy’s store? The one that pulled my hair and told me I was adopted because I’m small and I don’t look like any of you guys. You freaked out on him and made him apologize and scared him away. He’ll cross the street now if he sees you coming.”

“You can’t let bad people get away with doing bad things,” TJ reasons. “If you don’t stop them, they’ll just keep doing bad stuff.”

“Exactly! So it’s a good thing that daddy goes after the bad guys. Grandma needs to learn. And she needs to learn TODAY. You should tell her, Tyler. You should tell her off. You’re not scared of anyone.”

“Not being scared of anyone or anything is not always a good thing,” Tyler informs her. “If you’re not scared, you don’t take a situation or people seriously. That’s when you get hurt. And you know what? No matter how big of a bad ass you think you are? There’s always a bigger one out there somewhere. Believe me. I’ve learned THAT lesson the hard way.”

“The guy who shot you just got a lucky one in,” TJ reasons. “You were already hurt. You weren’t one hundred percent. Some guy had already shot you, hadn’t he? A sniper?”

“What’s a sniper?” Addie inquires. “Is it like Swipper on Dora? Something like him?”

“We don’t need to talk about that,” Tyler says. “You don’t need to know that stuff. Not until you’re older. WAY older.”

“A sniper’s a guy that hides somewhere and shoots you,” TJ replies. “Somewhere where no one sees him. It’s why they’re so dangerous. You don’t even know where they are. They just shoot you. And they kill you before you even know what happened.”

“But daddy didn’t get killed. If a sniper shot daddy, shouldn’t he be dead?”

Combing his hand through her bangs, Tyler tips his daughter’s head back. “What did I just say? About you not needing to know about this stuff?”

“I’m curious now. Tyler said they hide and shoot people and kill them. How come you didn’t die? If a sniper shot you?”

“I guess he didn’t manage to get a good shot in.”

“It was the other guy that almost killed him,” TJ says, and takes a sip of the concoction in his hand. “The one that got him in the neck. That’s when he almost died. Mum saved him.”

“How? How did mummy save daddy? Daddy…” she swivels around in her stool to face him. “...how did mummy save you? Did she shoot the bad guy back?”

“Mum stuck her fingers in his neck,” TJ says. “To stop the bleeding. Or he would have bled to death.”

Addie’s eyes widen. “She DID?”

“When you’re older, MAYBE I’ll tell you more more about it. But for now…” Tyler places his hands on her shoulders and gently turns her back around. “...you don’t need to know this stuff. And you…” he stares pointedly at his son. “...don’t talk about this around her. She doesn’t need to know about this. She’s a baby still.”

“I’m not a baby!” Addie objects. “I’m five! I can almost ride my bike without training wheels. Babies can’t do that.”

“Just don’t, alright?” He addresses TJ. “Don’t talk about this stuff around her. Because she’s going to repeat all of this and she’s going to repeat it to your mum and that won’t end well. For you OR me.”

“It happened though. I mean, it’s part of how you guys met and got together and ended up getting married and stuff. It’s your history. I don’t see why…”

“I said ENOUGH. No more. Not around her. Got it?” He’s on edge; the mere mention of Dhaka and the incidents on the bridge playing straight into the anxiety and the panic he’d felt the night before; when he’d woken up from the nightmare and been on the verge of losing control and had turned to the fentanyl for relief. And it scares him; how easy it had been to not only access the powerful med, but actually take it. He’d encountered no resistance or hesitation; remorse and guilt not setting in until the following morning when he’d woken up and it had been the first thing on his mind. It’s alarming how quick things can return; an addict’s mind and behaviour.

Nodding, TJ holds his hands up in surrender.

“You’re both going to be nice tonight,” he says, and finishes Addie’s final braid. “To grandma. Because your mum is already stressed out enough and we don’t need to make it worse for her. So if the best you can do is smile and nod, just do that. I’m not asking you to kiss her ass. I’m just asking you to be civil. Can you handle that?”

TJ nods.

“You?” He tugs on one of Addie’s pigtails. “Can you do that? Be civil?”

“Do I have to be near her? Or sit on her lap? ‘Cause I draw the line there.”

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Just don’t be a little asshole, alright?”

“Me? I’m Mary Freaking Sunshine, remember? That’s what Grandpa Koen calls me.”

“Well then live up to it and be nice to your grandmother. Smile until your face hurts, got it?”

“What do I get out of it?”

He smirks.

“Mummy says to always negotiate. Never settle for the first offer. Can I sleep in the big bed tonight? For being nice to grandma?”

“No.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifts her off the stool; pressing a kiss to her cheek before setting her on the ground.

She turns to face him. Head cocked to the side and one hand clutching her doll, the other planted firmly on her hip. “Can I have ice cream for my bedtime snack?”

"Maybe."

“Maybe isn’t good enough.”

“You ARE just like your mom, aren’t you.”

“I’ll be nice if I can have ice cream for my bedtime snack and you snuggle with me and draw on my back for half an hour. And that’s after FOUR stories.”

“You're bossy, you know that? Two stories.”

“Three. That’s as low as I’ll go.”

“I will give you two stories, ice cream for your snack, and forty five minutes of snuggling and drawing on your back. Instead of half an hour. We got a deal?”

Her eyes narrow as she considers it; nibbling on her bottom lip and swishing her hips back and forth. “You’re good at this.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Peanut. I’ve dealt with tougher than you. What do you say?” He offers a hand. “Deal?”

“Deal!” she agrees, his hand easily swallowing hers as they shake on it.

Grinning, he runs a hand over the top of her head and then drops a kiss on her hair. “You really DO have a lot of your mum in you.”

“Great things come in small packages,” Addie reasons, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down and pecks her lips. “Thank you, daddy!” she chirps. “My hair looks beautiful. You always do it perfect.”

“Pretty hard not to when my subject is so cute. Good thing I married your mum, huh? So I could have a kid as cute as you?”

“You really are a lucky man!” she declares and then cheerfully skips out of the room.

“I hope grandma is on her best behaviour,” TJ says, as he finishes the drink in his hand and then slides off the stool and returns it to its place at the island. “Because if she DOES start on mum, it’s going to be a wild night. I really hope she watches her step.”

“My too, kiddo,” Tyler sighs, and reaches out to tousle his son’s hair. “Me too.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

22 notes · View notes

lassieposting · 3 years

Note

Hey, I saw you did a hc thing for Scaracen/Dexter and I was wondering if you could do one for Ghastly/Skulduggery?? (I love the pairing but there is no content and it makes me sad) Hope you are having a good time :)

I genuinely thought I had done this for ghasdug but apparently not? I can't find it anyway

There is content in my ghasdug tag but tbh in my experience the ghasdug shippers are on discord mostly...hit me up

ANYWAY

So. Ghasdug. Ghastly wants skug from the start.

They're 16 when they meet. Ghastly gets a bit seasick and doesn't really want to go anywhere by ship, but his mama tells him he needs to, there's something important for him on that ship, that one right there, and he trusts her enough to know that she's clearly foreseen something and to just go with it.

By the time they get back to shore, he's already thinking, it's you. I was supposed to meet you.

They head back to Dublin together. Ghastly's mama takes one look at this awkward, skinny, skittish child and decides she's adopting him, and skug moves into their farmhouse and is subsequently freaked the fuck out by his very first experience of A Loving Family. Ghastly's mother like, hugs him and reminds him to wear a coat and clips his ear for swearing and makes sure he eats breakfast. He is semiferal and not used to any of this.

For a few months they settle into a comfortable routine:

- Ghastly's father spends the week making clothes, then does commission deliveries one day and takes hats and boots and suchlike to the market the next.

- Ghastly's mother has a job as a barmaid, where she gets to regularly crack some skulls and socialise, which is great for her because she is both a short-n-stocky powerhouse and a giant extrovert.

- The boys spend most of their time together, and they're supposed to do the bulk of the chores. It's not a large commercial farm - they have a vegetable garden, and some chickens, and an old carthorse, and maybe a couple of goats or a cow for milk and cheese. Ghastly and Skug are supposed to cut firewood and feed the animals and fetch groceries from the market and milk the milkable animal and fix this and repair that. All the things the parents dont have time for

Which. Is great in theory but skug has never had to do a hard day's work in his lazy aristocratic life, and develops a severe and immediate allergy to manual labour, so actually ghastly tends to do most of the chores while skug skives off and naps in the sun or chats up the girls who live on the neighbouring smallholding over the fence

And like, therein lies the problem, because they are both solidly in the grip of that cruel mistress called puberty and like. Skug was a fuckin weird-looking child. He had big ears and a sharp nose and a bunch of missing teeth and his limbs were all too long for him. But he's now rapidly growing into all the features that made him an unfortunate child, and it's already clear that he's going to be one of those people who will, inevitably, grow into handsome young men.

Which is like. Fine. Ghastly doesn't care. He's not jealous or anything. He doesn't feel a twinge when the neighbour girls only speak to him to ask about Skulduggery. Nobody here is bitter.

It's a good thing, he tells himself. Nobody will want to marry him anyway, so he's glad skug is around now so Mother can harass him to meet a nice girl and give her grandchildren. At least someone will probably want to have children with skug.

He has a dream about skug not long before his 17th. They share the attic room, and when he startles awake, skug is smirking at him from the opposite bed and asking "who is she?" and ghastly thinks oh no. He's painfully embarrassed and awkward about it, and skug rolls over and stretches and says, "relax, bespoke, your secret is safe with me" and all ghastly can focus on is that he's actually been putting some muscle on lately and when he stretches like that it does funny things to ghastly's insides.

- they start riding into town in the evenings to meet up with hopeless at the tavern, play cards and flirt with pretty girls. Or rather, skug flirts with pretty girls. He's all legs and freckles and elegant clothes, and they hang off his every word. Ghastly knows they will never look at him like that. He's Skulduggery's ugly friend. Girls only approach him to ask about skug

- and he gets it! Skug is unfairly attractive! And he's witty, and clever, and sometimes when ghastly wakes up first he stays very quiet so he can watch skug sleep, the way the dawn turns his hair to burnished copper, the way his curls fall across his forehead and the patterns his freckles make on his skin. Skug is an affectionate, tactile drunk, and hopeless looks at ghastly with something like pity whenever skug rests his chin on ghastly's shoulder or leans his head on ghastly's knee or wants a piggyback back to where they tied the horse, and ghastly takes what little he can get and says nothing.

- they're coming home drunk in the pouring rain one night, later than usual, riding doubled up on ghastly's carthorse. ghastly is behind, loosely holding on around skug's waist, and the whole way home all he can think about is how close they are and how much he wants to lean in and put his mouth on skug's neck, and by halfway home he's reduced to silently begging his semi not to pop a full on hard-on until they're home, when skug will crash like always and ghastly can take care of himself in private

- when they get home, they're locked out, which is what they get for coming home well after ghastly's parents are asleep, but this isn't a one off and ghastly's mother always leaves blankets for them to sleep in the barn. so they put the horse away and give her a rub-down/groom together and skug's shirt is practically see-through and his hair is plastered to his skull and ghastly can't take his eyes off the visible jut of collarbone where the neck of skug's shirt is undone and skug makes a couple jokes about it when their eyes meet, how ghastly has been brushing the same bit of horse for as long as it's taken skug to do half his side, but then the third time he laughs and teases, "if i didn't know better, bespoke, I'd say you wanted me" and ghastly will forever blame the alcohol but he doesn't even think about it? It comes out before he can stop himself, before he has time to remember what it could do to their friendship

- he says, "what if i did?"

- skug goes quiet for a minute, and it's a tense sort of quiet, not the thick, cloying tension that comes before a storm or an argument but the light, vibrating tension that comes with standing on a cliff's edge or drawing a bowstring, and then he ducks under the horse's head to come around to ghastly's side. He's still a little shorter than ghastly, still has to look up ever so slightly to meet his eyes.

- skug says, "do you?" like it's still half a joke, and there's a chance to back out right there, to laugh and deny it and let this become an amusing footnote at the bottom of their friendship, but ghastly ignores it. "yes."

- skug shrugs, his lip quirking, and says, "so have me."

- ghastly learns a lot that night. he also accidentally blurts "i love you" when he comes, but nobody's perfect and he's...relatively...sure skug was too distracted to have been paying attention, so he'll count that as a massive win

- morning finds them in the hayloft, tangled up in the blankets left out for them, regretting their choice of tavern beverages and, in ghastly's case, sporting a classic case of morning wood. He's kind of hoping he'll get lucky again with sleepy morning sex but skug is disgustingly hungover and just wants to burrow his head into ghastly's chest to block out the light and go back to sleep so like, out of luck.

- when skug has slept off the booze a bit more, Ghastly awkwardly broaches the question of "just how drunk were you" and they establish that they both remember fucking, neither of them regrets it, and the attraction is apparently mutual? Which is a mindfuck for self-conscious teenage ghastly, because, like, why tho

- they both get to do the walk of shame into the house when ghastly's parents wake up. Ghastly's shirt hides the nail marks skug left on his back nicely; sadly, the same cannot be said for the giant hickey he left on skug's throat, and he is eternally grateful to his parents for not bringing it up (he'll allow his mother her raised eyebrows. She did it quietly)

- they just sort of? happen, after that. There's no conversation about what they are to one another, so there are several crossed wires and feelings get hurt, but they always move past it. They both have phases of going off with someone else - but they keep ending up back together regardless of how much they argue.

#skulduggery pleasant #ghasdug #sp headcanons #nsft mention #the slightest sprinkling of smut #sp getting together meme

16 notes · View notes

romanceforransom · 3 years

Text

There was a writer!sander fic that i started a little while ago but didn’t know where to go with it. So, I decided to post it here 🤷‍♀️

I might continue it...? idk. but let me know what you think :)

I ran into my local bookshop, the bell notifying my entrance as I swung open the heavy wooden door.

I had made sure to set my alarm extra early for that morning, giving myself enough time to get there before I had to make my way to work. There was a book that I had been waiting what felt like years for, and I wanted to pick it up as soon as humanly possible.

“Has it come?” I asked excitedly, rushing over to the front desk and locking eyes with an amused Zoë

She was used to my erratic behaviour by now, becoming desensitised to my hyperactive persona that I don whenever a new book comes out.

Not that I do it with every book. Of course, I love most things that come out, burying my nose in anything that I possibly can. But nothing gets me quite as excited as the books by Earthling Oddity.

Nobody knew this unknown author’s real name, or what they looked like. The air of mystery obviously created a lot of hype, gaining them a lot of followers trying to crack the code and reveal the hidden identity. What really made them popular, though, was the magical way they created stories.

I was always completely enraptured by the words written on the pages. Becoming engrossed in the fictional world they created and riding out the waves of emotions that came with the storylines.

They had come out with a new book recently, a new addition to one of their series, and I had been patiently (except not really. Unless pacing up and down the flat and checking my phone constantly for updates was considered as being patient) for it to be delivered to my bookstore.

“It’s here” Zoë replied, sounding amused “I reserved one for you, even though I knew you would be the first one in here today”

She reached underneath the desk and produced the long-awaited book

I stared at it in awe, admiring the bright colours and detailed art on the front cover.

“Wow” I breathed out, smiling

“You looking forward to reading it?”

I tore my eyes away from the book and looked up at her, squinting my eyes slightly “Seriously? I have been counting down the days for this book! Of course, I’m looking forward to finally being one step closer to unravelling the mystery that lies between the pages…”

She chuckled as I lifted my hand to tenderly stroke the front cover “Should I leave you two alone?”

“No, that’s ok” I said, picking it up and placing it gently in my backpack “I have to get going anyway”

“Ok, well keep me updated on it!”

I walked backward towards the door, grinning “Hourly updates are a given”

***

“Why are you carrying your bag so carefully?” Jana asked me curiously as I got to work

I had placed it gently on the ground in the back room with my coat, not wanting to damage the valuable contents lying inside of it.

“Seriously Jana? It’s got the book that I’ve been waiting months for”

Realisation washed over her face. I had been talking her ear off about it for a number of shifts. The amount of information she had actually been listening to and retaining would forever be a mystery, but she let me talk all the time without much judgement so that was the main thing.

“Aah ok, that makes more sense”

I pulled my apron over my head “What did you think was in there?”

She shrugged as she went back to stacking food in the display case “Judging by the way you were handling it, I thought for sure there was a bomb in there”

I shook my head at her amusedly “So your co-worker has a bomb, and you don’t do a thing to stop it? The least you could have done was taken my bag”

“We have a full shift ahead of us, Robbe” she deadpanned “Excuse me for not having much pep right now. I want to move as little as possible and retain the small amount of energy I have stored. Wrestling a bomb from you would probably take everything I had”

“Oh, come on. Shifts here aren’t that bad”

She raised her eyebrows at me “Go out all night drinking before our next shift and then tell me that again”

We both worked at a coffee shop in town. I actually quite enjoyed it. Being able to chat with people and brighten their day with coffee and cakes was a nice feeling.

Of course, it wasn’t something I wanted to do forever. Film making was my passion, the thing that I aspired to do in the future. Maybe even make some adaptations of Earthling’s books. Who knows? But, for now at least, I had to make do with making drinks.

Unlike me, Jana really did not like her job. She liked interacting with the customers, being the social butterfly she is, but the part where she actually had to serve and clean was never really something she enjoyed doing.

If I got paid every time she moaned when cleaning down the tables, there would be no need for this job. I would be rolling in money. She always claimed that it was manual labour, and she was going to sue the company for it. It did make me wonder what she thought would happen when she signed up for the job, but I never dared ask as she was always in a mood. It was best not to make things worse and just nod along.

“So, that book you have” she said “That’s the one with the mystery author, right?”

I nodded “Yep, they use a pen name. Lots of people have obviously tried to step forward and claim to be the author but the real one has yet to be revealed. If they ever will be. Fame isn’t for everyone, so I wouldn’t blame them for keeping hidden and basking silently in the glory of their writing”

“Aren’t you curious about who it is?” she asked me

“Well, yeah” I replied “I have always wondered who it is. I would love to be able to properly give my gratitude to the person that created such wonderful books… but I wouldn’t go out of my way to try and drag someone into the spotlight that doesn’t want to be there”

Many people on the internet have been trying to do exactly that. I have never understood why. Sure, you want to be the one to solve this giant question. But if it involves having to invade someone’s private life and tear down all the security and boundaries, they have built around them in order to remain anonymous, why would you want to do that?

What does revealing a random stranger’s identity add to your life? Nothing. It wouldn’t make you best friends with this person. In fact, you would probably end up as public enemy number one. Snooping in other people’s business isn’t cute, it’s creepy. Especially when they go out of their way to hide it.

The customers began flooding in. People coming in for their takeaway cups of coffee to beat away the morning tiredness. Monday’s were always especially bad. The weekend always wipes people out. Combining that with five days left of work looming over their head, a constant reminder of the seemingly never-ending week ahead of them, anyone would be exhausted.

Then, after a while, I spotted a familiar head of bleach blonde head of hair among the crowd out the corner of my eye.

“Robbe” I heard Jana hiss beside me as I continued making drinks for the awaiting customers “He’s here!”

Sander was a regular at the shop. He would always come in with an easy smile on his face and instantly brighten my day.

He was one of the most beautiful people I had ever laid my eyes on. Not only that, but he was also incredibly kind. Always dishing out compliments and making conversation with us while he patiently waited for his order. He has even defended us a couple of times when customers have been rowdy and impatient during the rush hours. Sander was just an all-round saint.

Jana knew that I had a small crush on him. I never told her outright, but she saw the way my face lit up whenever he was around and joined the dots herself.

I waited until he got to the front of the line and greeted him with a shy smile, trying not to blush like I normally did

“Hey, Robbe!” he said, grinning “How are you this morning?”

“I’m good” I squeaked “Will it be your usual, today?”

Ok, so maybe small crush was a bit of an understatement. He always seemed to make me tongue tied and act like a complete idiot. Which was a great way to act in front of someone you want to impress.

He nodded “You know me so well. Either that or I am in here too often”

“Nonsense!” Jana called to him “We love having you in here, Sander… some more than others” she muttered under breath, meaning only for me to hear it

As I was making his drink (a chocolate mocha – which was basically just a fancy coffee with chocolate, always with whipped cream on top) he leaned against the counter, making light conversation with Jana and me. He never seemed aware that we were at work and that he might be holding up the queue. Not that there were many of them at that moment. He had come just at the right time, most of the people filing out and going to their jobs.

“So, did that book come that you were talking about?” he asked me

“Um, yeah” I was surprised he remembered. I had made an offhand remark about it a few weeks back. But then, he always did seem to pick up on small details like that often “I got it this morning before I came to work. The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is run home to read it”

“Really?” he said, sounding faintly surprised “You are that eager to read it?”

I turned towards him, placing the steaming cup of coffee on the tray next to the croissant Jana got for him.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for it for so long… it takes priority over everything else as far as I’m concerned”

“You know Robbe” Jana said teasingly from beside me, jabbing me lightly in the side “forever a bookworm”

Sander smiled as he picked up the tray from the counter “When I come back, you’ll have to tell me how you’re finding it”

Just as I was about to reply, Jana jumped in “He’ll only have good things to say. He’s obsessed with this author, won’t shut up about them. It’s kind of annoying actually”

He smirked “Maybe I’ll have to check them out”

“You should!” I told him enthusiastically “Their works are amazing. Even if you aren’t really into reading, this person can have you drawn in with just a page of their writing”

“I don’t doubt that, I’m sure you have impeccable taste” Sander said, winking at me

He often did that but even after weeks of seeing it, I was still blown away each time. He always seemed to take my breath away without even trying.

Sander made his way over to a table, placing his tray down and taking out his small black notebook as normal. It was his daily routine and moved like clockwork every time. I don’t think there has been a single day he has come in when he hasn’t been scribbling away dedicatedly in there, pen moving furiously across the paper.

I was always curious about what he was doing in it, but never dared ask. It could be something deeply personal and private, I wouldn’t want to invade his comfort zone like that.

He was in his own world when he wrote. As soon as the book was opened it was like a protective bubble opened up around him, blocking out anyone and everything from his work. If we wanted to ask if he wanted a refill or anything else to eat, it would take a few tries to get his attention. Sander manages to block it out so easily.

Although it was a similar thing when I read. It was like escaping to another realm where nobody could reach you. Like a haven that you could take shelter in and escape from all your problems, if only for a short amount of time.

#wtfock #wtfam #wtfock fanfic #fanfic

30 notes · View notes

vickylamore · 3 years

Text

Cyborg City

Series: [26 Days of Alphabetical AUs Fics - Mini Masterlist]

Letter + AU: Letter C, Cyborg AU (inspired by Obsession - EXO)

TW: Dark humour, gore, language, the governement

Pairing: Platonic!EXO , Brother!Park Chanyeol (EXO) x Sister!Female Reader

Genre: Cyborg AU, Crack, Headcanons

Word count: 2k

“if you stop running, we’ll have to detain you but it’ll hurt a lot less.”

“yeah, because that’s so fucking reassuring.”

you technically wouldn’t be having this conversation if you didn’t sneak into a government facility filled with biotechnology and get caught but go figure.

also, being on top of a super high building with cars literally racing each other near a highway isn’t really that fun but chances are you have a slim to none chance of surviving if he doesn’t get here in time.

it’ll be his head on a silver platter if he doesn’t hurry up.

the purple and blue fluorescent lights on every building and banner along with the pink hued sunset were really starting to hurt your eyes, you had to blink a couple times before taking a few steps back to stop the heavy geared officers from approaching you, the sole of your foot on the edge of the building.

“hey, get away from the edge.”

“you guys switched up so fast.” you couldn’t really tell if it was a woman or a man speaking because of the huge head gear while the other kept glancing at the distance between you and your possible death.

not that it mattered, it’s not like you’re going to jump.

“look, if you just put the bag down, we’ll let you go.”

“yeah,” you scoffed with a laugh, “by signing me to a fucking coffin. God, I hate the government.”

“I’ll lose my job!”

you sent the officer the most perplexed look you could pull off before laughing again, “that sounds like a you problem.”

“listen, I’ve got an older brother who’s in pretty bad shape and I need these things,” you glanced at your watch for a second before smiling at the officers, “so, if you’ll excuse me.”

“what are you-- hey!”

you just had to lean your back off the edge to start free falling. it was like a lucid dream, everything felt so calm and peaceful, even with the screaming in the background.

ever since the crisis in 2007, everything had switched from modern day technology to robots and cyborgs in a fourteen years, everything that was once run by humans were now taken over by robots.

which would explain the very dark futuristic allure to the entire city, it would also explain why you aren’t completely fearing for your life as of right now.

“come on, come on, come on…” you closed your eyes, the wind clotting your ears, everything seemingly becoming an eco around you.

was it fun falling? you almost laughed at the thought that crossed your mind.

of course not; it literally felt like you were in the middle of an airplane that had just entered low pressured air.

“Jongin I swear to god if you don’t catch me, I’m not the only one that’ll kill you in hell!” you wondered if he even heard you, let alone knows where you are.

your brother is going to be more than upset if he finds out that one of his partners let you go splat.

if he finds out. it really does depend on you if you can even get to him before his entire system goes haywire.

you opened your eyes and screamed; you were so much closer to the ground than you thought, you were just seconds away from actually dying.

I can’t believe this is happening.

the people on the sidelines were watching you’re so close to your own fucking death as others were already trying to call cyborg officers, those who aren’t necessarily 100% human, to catch you in time.

you might actually die.

at least it’ll be before your brother because that man is in pretty rough shape right now.

but you don’t know what's worse; dying by getting hit by an oncoming truck or dying because your system is making you go coo-coo.

“it’s fun watching someone plunge to their death.”

you’ve never felt so annoyed yet relieved that here his voice.

“bite me.”

now that Jongin was flying above you with a comical smirk on his face to play hero, he grabbed your waist just before you were supposed to come in contact with the truck and flew all the way to a building about ten miles from where you were.

“son of a bitch, don’t ever fucking do that again.” you hissed at the blue-green haired man while catching your breath, “I almost lost my life, not that I’m complaining but still.”

Jongin was your best friend and at the same time, your worst enemy. he's probably the reason you don’t sleep at night because of the endless phone calls and messages and the reason for nearly all your mental problems but is also the one person who hasn’t tried to intentionally kill you.

win-win? maybe.

he was actually the first person out of the six dumbasses to reveal himself as a cyborg; his left eye, although normal at first glance, is a red-eyed machine and his back has built-in boosters acquiring them after a freak car accident as a child.

“you’re alive are you not?” he deadpanned before smirking, “should’ve done myself a favour and let you die.”

taking you back to the bunker was easy, getting you inside was also pretty easy.

but getting you to the small makeshift lab with Chanyeol about to kill literally everyone he sees is honestly tragic.

what's even worse is that the rest of them were still trying to sedate him after you’ve been gone for nearly an hour.

can’t say you’re disappointed; your brother is pretty bad when upset.

luckily, another episode has stopped and he’s finally out cold, Jongdae laying him on the couch while letting out a tired breath.

right, another episode.

the crisis in ‘07 was the tragic story of a group of scientists who created several artificial intelligences in order to save the world.

that certainly didn’t go as planned.

the technology was so new that they didn’t realize the consequences of giving these computers unlimited access to the internet, to information and better yet, classified information from neighbouring countries.

despite the fact that that alone would have caused a war, nothing was solvable until the artificial intelligences started creating more and more of their own. they took over machines, systems, nearly everything that was filled with technology, poor or high end.

so what did the government decide to do? Find any machine part and use it on strangers and the weak to make them stronger and to possibly wipe out the crisis.

it worked for the first six years, even with the mass protests about sacrificing the lives of innocent people, they didn’t stop.

and it was in 2013 that the government started getting power hungry. they redid everything to make the city look much ‘tech-like’.

electricians were replaced by robots as well as carpenters, construction workers and anything to do with manual labour was all taken by the government.

less money to spend on people.

and the worse this was that they left those humans that had tech parts to rot away.

but they came back stronger than ever and nearly half the city as cyborgs while the other half is either the government or innocent people, like you and it’s literally the government vs the people and cyborgs.

so it’s fine :)

now an episode is when a cyborg system starts failing whether it’s because of heat, cold, water, electricity-- they’re also machines and some machines deal with some problems better than others.

your brother’s right eye is a bitch with a built in voice system.

yes, his right eye talks.

when the AI eye (lmao) starts overwriting itself, the cells in his body are so used to the machine in his body that they trust it and what happens when the body trusts something?

in Chanyeol’s case, his cells start attacking each other and that’s about it.

it sounds awful, which it is, but instead of getting sick he just gets super angry because little miss right eyeball decided to play peek-a-boo with evil and make him want to kill everyone he sees.

you peaked around the corner and walked into the living and saw all the guys laying on the floor with some half asleep.

the guys, EXO, a group meaning… something something organism were technically always friends and just got closer when they all learned they were cyborgs,

“his episode stopped?” you asked anyone.

“mh-hm.”

“and you just sedated him?”

“fucking take it or leave it,” Sehun complained with a groan and sat up, looking at the bag you have in between your fingers. “did you get everything?”

“yeah, I did,” you shook the bag and shuffled your way to the next room, “Baek, Myeon, catch a cure or catch a case, pick one.”

usually, you’d already have the serum already done and ready because you’re pretty smart and figured out how to reverse the effects with the help of Junmyeon and Baekhyun of course, the former with one with a half of einstein’s brain and the other half of an AI and the other one with built in sound-chips and fingers able to attract any metal at will like magnets.

best team to make a cure with^

making the entire serum is actually pretty easy, however, it just takes an entirety to cool down and if not giving at the right temperature, or at least close to it, Chanyeol dies.

fun.

and of course, right when the cure is about to be ready, your brother wakes up.

and it’s not him speaking.

it’s that fucking right eyes.

a loud crash comes from the living room, at which you three snap your heads towards the source of the noise. you immediately look at Baekhyun who cringes at whatever he’s hearing.

“what is it?”

“First off, that fucking voice is annoying and two,” the platinum silver male squints before pulling you to the side just in time to see a chair fly into the room and travel right where you were. “that eye has a vendetta against you.”

“hUh?”

as if your luck couldn’t get any better, that disgusting high ass voice rings through the compound, “come out here you punny bitch, I want another eye, a real one this time ha ha!”

“oh my gosh she sounds like Yumeko but like… computer voice Yumeko with reverb.”

“who?” you brushed Junmyeon off, “don’t worry about it, figure out a way to cool that thing down, you’re smart, figure it out. And Baek, I need ears so come with me.”

you just ran all the way to the living room while Baekhyun was helping you avoid anything she threw at you, including Jongin’s body.

when you arrived, you cringed really really hard, “you will catch me doing many things but you will never fucking catch me looking at that.” you gagged. “oh my gosh why is that fucking eye out of his fucking socket!?”

“It’s sci-fi!”

you screamed at the black haired male with a terrified expression, “when was this ever fiction?!”

“not the time!” Jongdae yelled at Sehun who’s finger had turned into a flamethrower.

a flamethrower.

Sehun is the least out of your fucking concerns but a flamethrower.

“we aren’t burning my brother!”

“oh my,” his voice made you want to hurl, not only was your brother giving you this really creepy smile but he sounded like your favorite anime protagonist. “she’s really cute when she’s mad!”

“oh shit.”

oh shit is right Jongdae, oh shit is right.

you don’t remember what happened but your eyes saw red, oops.

you remember saying something along the lines of, “you think I’m pretty when mad? well love, I’m about to be fucking gorgeous!”

and suddenly you were on his back bashing his head in with your fists.

which you know hurts because when you woke up, your knuckles were red and sore and Chanyeol had a gauze on the back of his head and a mild concussion.

apparently Junmyeon was able to cool down the serum just when you were about to kill your own brother because the AI in his eye called you ‘cute when mad’.

you were raised by that man, what was he expecting?

22 notes · View notes

jwillowwolf · 3 years

Text

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 4

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 4!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “Are you mocking me?”

“Are you that dense?”

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Remy, OCs, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus, Emile.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

4 | Teamwork Troubles

It was the day after the quest-incident, and Remy had decided they would not be going on any more expeditions for a while. Especially since it was raining like crazy outside. Almost storming but not quite there yet.

Logan liked these kinds of days best because they gave him the perfect excuse to curl up somewhere and read a book. Except, today he couldn’t do that, since they still had lessons, and just like the day before Remy had led them somewhere that wasn’t their classroom.

“Why are we in the kitchens?” Janus asked.

“Because I’ve decided to teach you some more unique magic. Household spells, to be exact.”

Remus cocked his head to the side. “Household spells? Are we learning how to make a home?”

“How to make one tidy, yes. I’m going to teach you everyday spells you can use for cleaning and whatnot.”

“What? But that’s the servant’s job!” Roman complained.

“Not today. I gave the staff the day off, so you’ll all be doing what they usually do.”

The teens all groaned but went to work without much complaining. From most of them anyway. Remy taught them a few easy spells for using water to clean surfaces, air to dust hard to reach places, etc. Logan found that it was a lot easier than normal cleaning but just as boring. His classmates seemed to think so too if their agonised expressions were anything to go by.

“Are we almost done?” Roman asked.

“There’s still a whole third of the house to go,” Virgil informed him.

“This is so lame!” Remus complained. “We’re just casting mopping spells, and dusting spells, and sweeping spells, and shining spells, and nothing interesting!”

“It’s not so bad. We’re getting to see more of the house.” Patton said.

Remus perked up. “Do you think we’ll get to see what’s in the tower?”

“Remy told us on day one we weren’t allowed there,” Willow said.

“Yeah, but he also said we’d be doing what the servants usually do. They must do some kind of maintenance there.”

Logan shrugged. “I highly doubt Remy will allow us to do anything there, even if we’re taking over for the servants.”

“We shouldn’t be doing the servants’ work anyway. It’s for servants!” Roman complained.

Janus groaned. “Can you just shut up? We’re all in the same boat here, so there’s no use complaining the entire time.”

“Well, obviously you’re not standing up for anyone, Mx Dragon.”

“There’s no one to stand up for.”

“We can stand up for ourselves. This is inhumane!”

“Have you never had any repercussions in your life? For anything?”

“What would I need repercussions for? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Oh, of course. Sorry, I forgot you’re Mr Perfect.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Are you that dense?”

“You b-”

Before Roman could finish, he and Janus were splashed with water. Everyone turned to find that it was Willow who’d cast the water spell.

“You’re both getting on my nerves now. The only reason you even oppose each other is because of some stupid race-rivalry from a thousand years ago. It’s getting old!”

“He started it!”

“Me? It was you who started it!”

They were both doused with water again. “See, this is what I was talking about! It doesn’t matter who started it, because I say it’s finished.”

“That’s not fair,” Janus complained.

“Well, boo hoo to you- eek!” Willow was suddenly soaked. “Remus!”

“What? I wanted to try out the spell,” she said with an innocent smile that was then wiped of by a thin stream of water squirting into his face.

“Sorry Re, I guess I don’t know my own strength,” Patton said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

Remus just laughed. “No worries Pat, I’ll get you back for that!”

“Eek!” Patton jumped out of the way as Remus sent a stream at him.

Which caused poor Virgil to get drenched from the attack. He glared at both of them and sent water at everyone else, which finally caused things to fall into chaos as all of the students were now wet and trying to shoot each other. It had started out as them all trying to get revenge but quickly turned into a game as the teens dissolved into laughter and just began shooting each other for the fun of it.

The laughter didn’t last long-- or maybe it did? But no one had thought to keep track of the time- but getting back to my point, Remy was not happy when he walked in on his students having a water fight in the library. Especially not when he was shot by all seven of them upon entering the room.

“Okay, since you caused an absolute catastrophe with your first punishment, I have no choice but to make the second one harder.”

“Are you going to make us do more manual labour?” Roman asked.

“No, I don’t think anything of that kind won’t end up the same as-- well this!” He gestured to the soaked library. “What to do, what to do… ah-ha!”

“Oh, I don’t like that look on his face,” Remus whispered.

Indeed, none of them liked the dark grin that was plastered on their teacher’s face. They all shivered with dread from the anticipation of what kind of punishment they were going to face.

“You will all be writing your own independent papers on a historic magical event.”

And then everyone died.

Not really, no one actually died. I’m sorry if I misled you there. I meant that they all died inside, just a little, as one does when told they have to write a school paper. Especially when you realise you’ve just destroyed the library and have no sources to help you write said paper.

Dinner was unbelievably quiet as everyone was wallowing in agony over what to do about their assignment. Logan found himself distracted from such thoughts however as he noticed the minute change in the atmosphere.

Normally, there was tension during mealtimes, especially between Roman and Janus. Tonight however the dragon and elf seemed to be accepting or perhaps ignoring each other’s presence. For once there was complete peace among the teens and Logan came to a realisation.

In the past two days, they’d worked together, somewhat, and managed to do a lot more than they’d done alone. Okay, so technically the things they’d done was collect a bunch of forest ingredients, save Patton from a well, and destroy a library, but with proper coordination and teamwork, they could find ways to put their skills to use. And perhaps that would help them in the long run when it came time for the secondary license test.

Long story short, they needed to work together properly if they wanted to accomplish anything worthwhile. Which meant they needed to get along like this, preferably without wallowing in despair.

That brought Logan back to the problem at hand. The papers. With the library absolutely soaked where were they going to get-

“That’s it!”

Everyone jumped in their seats a little at Logan’s exclamation.

“Uh, did you figure something out?” Willow asked.

“Yes, I’ve come up with a solution to our paper problem to be exact.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Virgil urged.

“We can use the library.”

Roman frowned. “It’s waterlogged, Genius. Remember?”

“Not that library. The one in town. They have an entire section on magical history and I happen to know someone who could help us find whatever we need.”

“If we’re going into town, can we also do some sightseeing?” Patton asked.

Remus grinned. “Yeah, we haven’t gotten to see anything apart from the manor and forest since we got here.”

Logan blinked in surprise. “Wait, what do you guys usually do on weekends when I visit the town?”

“You visit the town? I thought you just stayed in your room.” Janus said.

“Jan and I normally spend the day in the garden,” Willow answered. “I think we all just laze around the manor really.”

Everyone nodded affirmatively.

“Alright then, I suppose we can get some sightseeing done as soon as we find what we need at the library.”

---

“What are you gonna show them? The town well?” Everleigh remarked.

Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. They are the ones who want to do the sightseeing.”

Saturday had come and the entire class had taken a carriage into town. With any tension between them having been absolved since the water incident, they had openly spoken of their excitement at getting to go into town, despite having to do research for their papers at the library.

It was such a strange thing to think that his classmates who grew up in more interesting faraway places, would be so interested in his little hometown. He wondered if they would be disappointed when they realised how simple life here really was.

Roman and Remus had grown up on Lyrecrest Ilse, a well-known destination that many called an island paradise. Patton came from Sweetwater Cove, where the waters were said to be clear as glass. Willow and Janus were from the Evergreen Valley where many other demi-creatures and magical folk lived together in their own private communities. And Virgil… now that Logan thought about it, he didn’t know where Virgil was from, but it had to be somewhere just as exotic, if not more so.

Yet here they all were, eager to see his quiet hometown.

Everleigh had been waiting at the bakery, as always, to greet Logan when he came and was quite shocked to see the others he’d brought along with him. He took her aside and explained what had happened as briefly as possible without losing too much detail, while Emile was handing out breakfast pastries to his classmates.

“Hmm, this is absolutely delicious. Thank you, Mr Picani,” Patton said, and the others echoed their appreciation after him.

“It’s no problem kids. I’m glad you like these. They’re a new recipe I’m perfecting.”

“It tastes pretty perfect to me,” Remus complimented as he licked his fingers.

“Hey, the carriage is leaving,” Roman said, pointing outside.

“Yeah, the driver is taking the horses to be watered. He’ll come back this evening to take us home.” Remy explained.

“But how are we getting to the library?”

Janus snorted. “Ever heard of walking?”

Roman’s face morphed into an expression of mild dread and disbelief.

“The library is only twenty minutes from here,” Everleigh stated. “It’s not a long trek or anything.”

“We could probably get there even faster if we raced,” Remus suggested.

Willow’s ears perked up. “Race?”

Janus smirked. “Hey roman, I bet you couldn’t beat Willow there.”

Roman huffed. “I could beat all of you there.”

“You all don’t even know the way there,” Virgil pointed out.

“Uh, Everleigh and Logan could give us some directions,” Patton suggested.

“I’d be happy to provide directions if I can race too,” Everleigh said.

Willow grinned. “The more the merrier.”

After giving out directions and everyone lining up in what they determined was a fair starting line, the eight teenagers ran through the streets and arrived in front of the grand library in record time. They stood outside arguing for a few minutes, or rather Roman and Janus argued for a few minutes about Janus getting there via a piggy-back ride from Willow.

They came to the resolution that it didn’t matter since Willow had gotten there first, while carrying Janus, making her the winner. Everleigh had complimented Willow’s strength, causing them to blush furiously, and suggest they all went into the library.

“Okay, so you guys need magical history stuff, uh, that will be in the archives under magical research and/or supernatural events. Do you guys have anything specific in mind?” Everleigh asked as they stepped inside of the massive building.

“Woah, how many books are there here?” Janus asked as they looked around in awe.

“I have no idea, but we’ve got something for everyone, from fictional works and poetry to adventurer biographies and cookbooks.”

“What kinds of biographies do you have?” Willow inquired.

“Pretty much anything that’s printed for public distribution, plus a couple of private journals that have been donated from noble families. Do you have something in mind?”

“Um, well, there’s a book I read back home that I was thinking of using. The Quest of Nigel Hawk. there are a bunch of events in there that Nigel witnessed first hand that we could write about.”

“A primary source? That would be the best way to get whatever information we needed.” Logan said.

“What kind of events did Nigel see on this quest?” Patton asked.

“I don’t remember everything, but ze saw stars dancing on the ocean, met the grand phoenix and witnessed the birth of the first pegasus,” Willow recounted.

“Stars dancing on the ocean? Are you sure ze wasn’t just dreaming?” Remus asked.

“If I remember right, they were two spirits. The soul of the north star and her bride, a sailor from days long past. Nigel met them both on the night of their anniversary when they came down to celebrate with a dance, and they told him the story of how they got together.”

“That sounds so romantic! I’ll go see if I can find that book,” Everleigh said before disappearing between the tall bookshelves.

“Uh, do we just wait here for her or...?” Roman asked.

“She does this when she’s excited. We can just wait for her in the reading area,” Logan explained, motioning for everyone to follow him.

He led them to an area where there were several long tables with semi-comfortable chairs where they could sit. Once the group had sat down at one, Everleigh came from gods-know-where and plopped down a pile of thick tomes.

“This guy either lived a long life or an eventful one, but there are like eight different parts of his adventures in chronological order.”

“Why do I feel like this is going to be worse than I’d hoped,” Remus groaned.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “You expected studying to be easy?”

“You make a good point, but there’s no need to stab me with it.”

“Well, we should probably get started, right?” Roman sighed and they all nodded. “Which is the first volume?”

“Uh, this one. I could read it aloud for you all,” Everleigh offered.

Patton clapped his hands together. “Oh, it’s like a storytime.”

“Yeah, but shh, we don’t want to get kicked out for making too much noise,” Logan warned.

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay. The librarians are pretty lenient, but let’s keep the noise at a minimum.” Everleigh suggested. “And I’ll read this as softly as I can…”

The group listened to Everleigh read the first book of Nigel’s adventures for a while, then she passed the book to Logan who continued from where she left off. Basically, they all became enthralled with knowing what happened next and passed the story around to be read aloud as each reader got tired of reading. They all took turns and before they knew it they’d come to the end of the book.

“Holy Knights, that was a real twist,” Remus exclaimed.

Virgil nodded. “Right? Was anyone else feeling anxious there when Killian got hit by that arrow?”

“I thought he’d have died, honestly. It’s amazing that Gwen was able to heal him,” Patton said.

“I would have never guessed that was where healing magic came from. But it makes me curious about where other magics originated from,” Logan stated.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I call dibs on Duncan’s coronation for my paper. That was one heck of a rebellion,” Roman declared.

“I think I’ll do my report on Odessa’s garden. That was a true masterpiece of romantic tragedy,” Janus remarked.

Willow snorted and Patton gave her a questioning look. “What’s so funny?”

“It just seems kind of ironic that Roman is doing a report on the first Dragon King and Janus is doing one about an elf heroine.”

Everyone exchanged glances and began laughing, except for Janus and Roman who just looked at their companions in complete confusion. While they were laughing, a librarian walked over to their table.

“Pardon, but I must request you all be quiet or take your merriment elsewhere.”

“Oh, sorry Jana, we’ll just- oh man, is that the time?” Everleigh asked when she noticed the clock in the corner was now at eleven-forty-eight.

“Yes, that’s the right time.” Jana answered.

Everleigh looked at the group. “I think we better get some lunch.”

The group exchanged some agreeing nods and got up from the table.

“Sorry for the trouble, Jana. we’ll head out now, uh, could you check out these books for me and i’ll swing by for them later?”

Jana looked at the books and sighed. “I suppose, but only if you leave now.”

“Sure thing. See ya!” Everleigh said before running off towards the exit with the others following her.

“What are we doing for lunch?” Remus asked the group. “Because I for one am starving.”

“We could check what there is in the market,” Logan suggested. “Remy and my dad won’t be expecting us until dinner time, so we can check out what’s there until then.”

“Oh yeah, we wanted to get some sightseeing in,” Roman remembered.

“Well, there’s no place to start like market street.” Everleigh declared. “Let’s go!”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

3 notes · View notes