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howaboutcastiel · 2 years

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Make Your Acquaintance II (Jake Lockley)

Content Warning: mentions of injuries/blood, also manslaughter

Make Your Acquaintance Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: You and Marc arrive home after your mission-gone-awry in Budapest. Neither he nor Steven are up to speed on your introduction to Jake, and you’re desperate to learn more about him in a setting where your life isn’t at stake. Note: There is a time jump between parts I and II. Reading part I isn’t entirely necessary but it’s recommended.

Author's note: I'm not good at part 2s, but y'all were BEGGING me so here it is.

You had both slept on the flight back to London, beaten and exhausted from your adventure and relieved to be out of harm’s way. When the plane finally touched down, it was Marc who awoke to the sound of the captain’s voice informing you of your arrival. He didn’t think much of the gap in his memory—Steven was supposed to be controlling the body anyway—though he was confused by the new wounds on his skin, particularly the ones on his hands.

“I gave Steven the body so he could take care of it.” He complained to you on the car ride home. “He was supposed to make sure we’re well-rested, not find even more ways to get hurt.”

You hadn’t told him the truth about what happened at the hotel, nor about the fact that Steven hadn’t fronted in nearly two days. There didn’t seem to be a good way to explain the truth: that two men had tracked you to your room, that Jake Lockley had murdered them, and that he’d been fronting for hours afterward. The story you were running with was that Steven had dropped a mug of coffee at the breakfast bar of the hotel, not summoning the suit to heal himself because there were so many witnesses around. Marc was suspicious of how a mug could do so much damage, but he had no real reason to question you.

The truth would have to come out eventually, but you had no idea how to introduce it. How could you explain leaving two bodies in that hotel? That two men died at what was technically Marc’s hand, but not? How could you explain that Steven was nowhere to be found and that you didn’t know why or when he’d be back? Or that you probably could never show your faces in Budapest again?

There was something else you couldn’t find words for, either. How could you explain that all of Marc’s assumptions about Jake were wrong? That he was so much more valuable than the other two gave him credit for? How could you explain his surprising agility, his level-headedness, and his knowledge about making clean getaways? How could you explain his tenderness, the way he hummed in his sleep? The way he held you?

Marc was decidedly less pissed off at Steven by the time you made it through the door to your apartment. A thin layer of dust covered everything, reminding you of just how long you had been gone. Relief washed over you as you breathed in the familiar scent of your shared home. There was nothing here that could hurt you, especially not armed men with a vendetta. The bruising on your ribs was feeling slightly better now that you had rested some, but you still thought it would be a good idea to hold some ice to it. You allowed Marc to unpack his things, muttering at the way ‘Steven’ sloppily organized the duffel, as you searched the freezer for a pack of frozen vegetables to put on your wound.

It wouldn’t take long for Marc to figure something didn’t add up. Either Steven would reveal to Marc that he didn’t remember anything from the past few days, or his continued absence would draw attention that something was wrong. Either way, it was only a matter of time. Probably a few hours at most, so you needed to brace yourself to explain everything to him.

Something else was interrupting your thoughts, though. It overtook your concern that you were keeping such a secret from your partner. Your brain was occupied wholly by curiosity. Curiosity about Jake Lockley.

You were desperate to know more about this man. Your limited time with him had only arisen more questions about his nature. Now you knew that there was more to him than just a need for survival, but how much more? And what about the softer side of him, the side that had held you so gently as you slept? Did the other two even know about that side of him? Hell, did Jake himself even really know?

“Should we go to the doctor about your ribs?” Marc’s concern interrupted your thoughts. The bag of frozen peas covered the worst of your wound, but nearly half of your torso was covered in splotches of blue and purple. “You’re looking pretty rough there, baby.”

“No, I’ll be okay.” You replied as he settled beside you on the sofa. He hadn’t been present when Steven surveyed your wounds initially. “They’re just bruised. Nothing a doctor can do to help it. I just need to rest.”

“Yeah, speaking of rest,” Marc placed his arm casually around the back of the couch, “I kinda planned to be out for a few days more than this. I thought Steven would like having the body for a little while. You know, unhindered by my presence or whatever.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” He was starting to piece things together. There was no point in trying to keep him in the dark, “Why don’t you talk to him about it?”

“Later.” He said. “For now I would just like to sleep.”

“I second that.”

Your mission in Budapest had knocked the wind out of you both—more literally in your case. It would probably take days for you both to be on your best game and weeks for your abdomen to heal completely. For now, there was no rush to do anything. Everything was calm, and quiet, and safe in your apartment. The rest of the world could wait. Now was the time to rest. You couldn’t help but ponder more about the mysterious Jake Lockley as you laid down on Marc’s chest. The memory of his unconscious humming followed you into your own much-needed slumber.

You were the first to stir back awake, and hunger pangs amplified the dull soreness in your abdomen. You peered across the study at the clock on the wall. You’d both been asleep for over two hours. Marc didn’t move as you carefully lifted off of his chest, likely still in need of some good, deep rest. You made your way quietly into the kitchen, intent on searching the cupboards for something to eat.

Too impatient to cook, you decided on ordering a pizza for the two of you. Some breadsticks, too, just in case Steven would be fronting when they finally did wake up. You heard shuffling on the couch as you placed your order over the phone. Footsteps approached you from behind as you hung up the call, and you turned to see your very groggy boyfriend squinting down at you, stifling a yawn.

“I ordered us pizza and breadsticks.” You informed him, testing the waters to see who was fronting. “Is that okay?”

“Sounds perfect,” Marc replied. At least, it sounded like Marc. But something was off. His voice was slightly gruff, almost like he was having to force it to be in its normal register. He eyed you suspiciously as if he was waiting for you to catch him in a lie. You had a gut feeling about it. A strong one.

“You’re not Marc,” you accused. He widened his eyes slightly at your intensity, but you knew you were right. Suddenly, he was avoiding your gaze. “Didn’t think I would be seeing you again so soon.”

“I didn’t think you would be, either,” Jake replied, a hint of red appearing on his cheeks. Why was he blushing? This big, scary man whose reputation was only murder and recklessness. He was blushing at you. “Guess it’s a subconscious thing. I… guess I wanted to be sure we got home okay.”

“Can the boys hear you right now? I mean… Steven and Marc. Are they listening to us”

“I don’t think so. Then again, that doesn’t mean anything for sure.” You sat across from him at the dining table, stunned by the idea that he was fronting again so soon. This man that you’d just met was now concerned for your safety so much that he’d overtaken your partner’s mind just to check on you. It didn’t make sense to you. It was fascinating.

“I don’t understand. I thought you said you normally watched from behind. Y’know, like… that’s how you even knew who I was. Are you fronting on purpose?” You were forming a small obsession with Jake Lockley, despite your very real instincts—and various warnings from Marc— to stay away from the dangerous, violent man. You needed to unearth every facet of his personality. Who was this mysterious man sharing a body with the boys that you loved?

“Not really on purpose. I think it just happens whether I try to or not. Like a feeling.”

“Like a feeling.” You repeated the phrase, turning it over again in your brain. It felt pointless, trying to ask him why he was here right now. It made more sense to ask other things. You had other burning questions and you intended to pry the answers out of him. A risky thought popped into your brain. If it wasn’t so irresponsible, it just might have been a genius idea.

“Do you drink beer?” You asked Jake, standing to head toward the fridge. He furrowed his brow at your question. “I think I’m gonna have some with dinner.”

“Yeah, I drink beer.” He responded as you pulled two bottles out of the refrigerator drawer. “But I usually prefer whiskey with pizza.”

Perfect.

But also… ew.

“Whiskey and pizza?” You scoffed, setting the two beers down on the table. You never drank liquor with your boys; Steven only served you wine on date nights and you tried to keep Marc away from the bottle in general.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘till you try it.” He teasingly grinned at you. It was strange, seeing Jake smile and joke when everything you knew about him conflicted with the very idea. Even at your last meeting with him—also technically your first—Jake Lockley didn’t seem like the type of person to joke. Or to laugh. It took hours for him to show you anything but anger and tunnel vision, as a matter of fact. You guessed it was different, now that he was fronting in a safe environment. The murder and grand theft auto might have been affecting his mood before.

You’d had two beers before the pizza was even delivered. Jake had had one… and two glasses of the bourbon he’d found somewhere in the back of the cabinet. You tended to forget how small their body was until you started drinking. It was hard to maintain the big and strong persona when two glasses of wine could knock Steven on his ass. Jake seemed to be doing surprisingly well with his whiskey—that is, until he stood to answer the knock at the door.

“I got it.” He was pretty good at hiding the way his weight swayed as he got to his feet. But he couldn’t hide the bright red staining his cheeks. You figured he was adequately tipsy now; he would probably tell you whatever you wanted to hear without much resistance. Jake tipped the delivery boy a generous amount before tossing the two boxes onto the table before you. By now, he was certainly a different image that you’d ever imagined from him.

“Man, I’m starving.” Jake bit off nearly half a slice in a single, swift bite. You chewed off a decidedly smaller piece as he ravenously scarfed down his food. “You should try the bourbon with your pizza. It really is better than it sounds.”

Your heart was beating slightly faster than normal. Despite your fascination with him, Jake was still a man to be feared. Hell, your introduction to him was watching him slit two men’s throats. He was dangerous, unpredictable, and you didn’t know which parts of him you could trust. Even now, half-drunk and more relaxed than you’d seen him except during sleep, Jake held himself with an isolated ferver that was absent in the others. His eyes were wider and darker, his jaw was tense and his muscles prepared to spring. It was like he was radiating with energy, you just couldn’t tell what type.

“So, Jake. How do you know how to hotwire a car?” You figured that was as good a question as any to start. It was innocent enough, and relevant at least.

“I know a lot of things.” He replied through a mouthful of bread and cheese. “They teach you a lot of weird stuff in the marines. Bet Marc can hotwire a car, too.”

“Guess the issue never came up before.” The more you learned about Jake, it seemed the less you knew about the other two. “But you don’t know if he can speak Spanish?”

“He probably does. I don’t ever hear him use it though. In his head. He just says English in that stupid Chicago accent.” Jake seemed anxious to talk, oddly enough. He’d told you before that he didn’t really have much to say, but that was proving to be untrue. He had lots to say, he just didn’t want to say it to Marc, or to Steven for that matter. You figured if you asked the right question, you could open the floodgates.

“So then what do you do all the time? If you don’t ever talk to Marc or Steven. Are you just like… dormant?”

“No, not really. Like I said, I do a lot of listening and watching. And other stuff.” He was on his third slice already, but he was being careful not to talk with his mouth full of food. Your interest was piqued at the mention of ‘other stuff.’

“What kind of stuff? You can’t just sit and listen all day.” He stifled a chuckle at your question like the answer was some kind of inside joke. He looked up at you with an almost teenage-like spirit. That was probably thanks to the alcohol.

“Well, if you want to know the truth,” You did. Absolutely you did, “I’m in control a little more than I let on. I don’t think they even notice all that much. Especially not Steven, half the time he doesn’t even ask what goes on while he’s away. He just assumes that Marc is handling it.”

So he was around more often than you thought. That brought a weird emotion over you. Unease, maybe? Or was it bashfulness?

“Does that mean we’ve met before? I mean, have I been talking to you before and not known it was you?”

“What? No. I mean… maybe. I don’t know. I’m not that good at pretending to be the other two. Mostly works on strangers.”

“What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’ then?” An ironic wave of fear passed over your chest at the thought that he’d been watching you all this time. It felt silly, seeing as Marc and Steven often were co-conscious. But you didn’t know Jake well enough. It felt wrong, almost creepy.

“Like I said, I know a lot about you through their eyes. Sometimes I don’t even want to see, but their thoughts can be so loud. Especially Steven. But sometimes I start listening too close. Too… intently. And the next thing I know, I pushed the other guy out on accident.”

“You realize how creepy that sounds.”

“Yeah, I know! It’s not like I can help it though. I mean, you try having Steven’s voice inside your head. Sometimes I have to push him out of the way just to get him to shut up. Especially about you.”

Jake’s face suddenly turned bright red, as if he’d said something that he didn’t mean for you to hear. He averted his gaze and sipped at his whiskey, obviously uncomfortable. You decided to change the subject. There were harder questions you wanted to ask. Now you were just pissed off enough at him to ask them, apprehension be damned.

“Jake, when I first saw you last night…” You swallowed hard. He seemed to know where you were going. “Why do you do that? Why do you only show up to a fight when you… you know…”

“You mean when the other two are gonna get us killed?” There was a shortness in his tone, but he seemed to be just as calm as ever. “Why do I come out to finish the job when your boyfriend doesn’t have the balls to do what needs to be done? I’m not gonna die because of their moral code. I’ll do whatever it takes to survive. That’s my job.”

“So you mean you don’t care who gets hurt in the process? You don’t care what you have to do? Who you have to go through?”

“That’s not a fair way to see it.” For some reason, he seemed intent on making you understand. “It’s not that I don’t care. It’s that I can’t afford to worry about that. I mean, that’s what the other two do, and I let them. I only take control when caring about that gets in the way. Only when there’s no other choice.”

“But you’re so brutal.” You were conflicted. Varying images of him conflicted in your head all at once. “What you did in the hotel. It was cold.”

“I think you need to do some re-evaluating, sweetheart. I only do what I was trained to do. Ask your partner how Bushman taught him. He’s not exactly sunshine and roses, either.”

“But he tries…”

“You think I don’t? You don’t know anything about me. Would you rather I left you in that hotel? That I let Steven keep waving his batons until you were both dead? I didn’t think so. You’re just the same as the other two, always blaming me like you’d even be here right now if I wasn’t.”

There was a long silence. Jake rubbed his eyes with his palms, sucking in a breath and letting out a slow sigh. He didn’t look at you. He didn’t take another bite of his food.

“Thank you.” He nearly jumped at your words, though they were barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“For being here. Thank you. You saved my life, and Steven’s and Marc’s more than once.”

He was quiet. You didn’t expect a ‘you’re welcome’ or anything. Marc wasn’t very good at handling gratitude either. Maybe Steven would have added a ‘don’t mention it,’ but in general the boys were all the same in that respect. Humble, to a fault.

There was no hope of getting him to talk without changing the subject. You supposed that what Jake meant by not having much to say. He didn’t like to talk about himself. You searched for another topic to bring up, but your brain was clouded by beer and by the strangeness of the situation. Only one other question popped into your mind.

“What did you mean when you said you had to make Steven shut up about me? Is there something wrong with me? Do you find me annoying?” It made sense to you that Jake didn’t like your company. After all, he worked hard enough to keep the boys alive, and you were just another liability to think about. You’d gotten that feeling back at the barn, at least at first.

“No, you’re not annoying. I mean… you’re kinda being annoying right now, but not normally. I just meant that Steven’s always going on about you. He’s head over heels. Obsessed. I’d say he’s deranged.”

It was a warm feeling, knowing how deeply Steven was in love with you, but it wasn’t surprising. He regarded you as the best thing in his life. He practically treated you like royalty, so of course you would be on his mind more often than not. Your sweet Steven.

“And it’s annoying that he’s always thinking about me?”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I don’t mind that he’s thinking about you. I don’t even mind that he goes on about it for hours. It’s more like… that it’s unfair. Like he’s flaunting it. Bragging.”

“So it makes you what? Jealous?”

“No!” He managed to blush even deeper. For all his illegal endeavors, Jake Lockley wasn’t very good at lying. At least not while he was drunk. And jealous, apparently.

“Why would you be jealous of Steven?” You persisted. Now nothing was making sense. You had thought Jake was incapable of human connection, but that was proving to be more and more wrong as you spent time with him. Now the… situation in the car this morning in Budapest was taking on a different meaning. Not that you knew how to feel about it, regardless of what it did or didn’t mean.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He blurted, taken aback by your tenacity. “He has everything he could ever want and you’re fucking terrified of me. It’s like he’s just rubbing in my face what I can’t have and why I can never have it. It’s infuriating.”

You didn’t know exactly how to take his words. Again, he was right and you both knew it. You would never willingly let Jake be as close to you as Steven was. At least, never before. Not to mention that Marc would probably drown all three of them before he’d let Jake anywhere near you. But now you were starting to feel differently. You reckoned that Jake could sense that about you, too.

It had been the same process with Marc in the beginning. You started by grounding yourself in his appearance, the same body as the other man you loved. Even if they held themselves differently, they all wore the same crooked smile, the same nose, and the same dark brown eyes. They all had the same dark circles, the same faint line between their eyebrows. And despite the wildly different relationships you had formed with each of them, they all looked at you the same way. Like you belonged to them.

Update: part 3

@libsybum @rmoonstoner @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @moony-artemis @gabewerk @nerdory10 @theluckyplaces @glitteringhippie @ahookedheroespureheart @lunarlockley @eunike-flower @dopeqff

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x you #masterlist #make your acquaintance

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yandere-kokeshi · 2 years

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Yandere Bakugou, Izuku, and Kirishima with a gn darling who gets insults in front of them

Request(ed?): Yes! - Could i request headcanons of deku, ejiro, and bakugou with a gn reader who gets insulted in front of them, can be like a selfish-guy who just talks about himself (kinda like neito monoma)? Your work is pretty nice, love ya. — sent by anonymous

Warnings: Cursing (calling people names), talks about murder/death, stockholm syndrome.

Author Note: I do not own these characters! There may be some mistakes as this was written late at night. thank you sm for this request!!

Katsuki Bakugou / Dynamite

The fastest way to get insulted (or killed).

He was locking hands with you while you and your friend caught up. He was fiddling with your fingers as he paid attention to your nails while all the sudden, the dumbass started talking about how great they were, even greater than you; of course, he saw how you tensed up; noticing your body language and the guy speaking louder.

He seriously was ready to blast them to hell, whether or not he was gonna be charged with 1st degree murder and manslaughter.

Doesn't matter if they're friends with you, he'd raise his voice and defend you. Would never, ever let someone disrespect you, especially in front of the Dynamight himself.

Would threaten them to leave before he burned their ass to the ground.

— “Are you fucking serious? Go run your mouth to someone who actually cares, dickhead. Fuck off!”

Pretty defensive towards you, doesn't matter if he finds the subject ‘boring’; you're having a fun time and that's all he cares about.

Most likely, due to his persona and fame; he would take you away as quickly as possible, after he insulted them (aka, destroyed their ego).

Would try to distract you once you two leave. Either that’s going to the park, arcade, or a fancy restaurant; you deserve it. After that, he would spoil you more further at home, cuddling while whispering in your ear that 'they'll eat shit.'

Izuku Midoriya / Deku

Would whip his head back to you both so hard that both of you heard it crack.

Him and you were both out and about when then a fan came up to him, trying to talk to Izuku while completely ignoring you, saying some nasty things along the lines of ‘he needs to do better’ and that 'you can have me instead of them.'

Was ready to use All For One to make sure the bitch was in a lot of pain. His blood was boiling; the only thing keepin him at bay was your presence.

He would immediately give her the death stare, while a few veins in his face and neck popping out; causing them to stop talking and awkwardly stand in silence for a few seconds.

He would break the conversation and make fun of them; make sure they feel small, he’s beyond enraged.

— “Excuse me? Go bother someone else if you're gonna say rude things like that, I mean really. You're such a dickhead.”

Doesn’t understand how someone could be rude in front of him, let alone to you? You're his angel.

He would then drag you somewhere else that’s less crowded, saying along the lines that ‘that kind of negative energy doesn’t belong around an angel like you.’

He hates when you feel weak or upset over a dumbass like her. In that case, he would comfort you with food, sweets, and cuddles; it physically hurts him to see you upset.

The best person to bring up the conversation you two were having beforehand, he would love for you to continue going on with the conversation you had, even if he doesn't understand it.

He might have some deathly plans in his head going through the rest of the day. So… R.I.P for the person.

Ejiro Kirishima / Red Riot

The biggest confused look ever.

Though, the most patient and calm-like person out of the two.

As you and your friend were hanging out (with him along beside you), he was waiting patiently for you to get done talking so he could take you somewhere special; while all of the sudden, they interrupted and said nasty things towards you.

He would raise his eyebrows as his eyes were twitching and his head cocked to the side, almost saying the words: “The fuck did you just say??”

— “*Scoff* You really think you're so funny, don't you? Really, you just embarrassed yourself.”

He would be thinking the best ways he could embarrass them possible, either spill something on their clothes or trip them as soon as they leave.

Wouldn't yell like Katsuki but he would start using clever words to hurt their ego and pride.

He would love to beat the person but doesn’t want to waste anymore time with the worthless soul. He would lead you along somewhere else to distract you.

He would buy you takeout once you two get home; watching a comfort movie of yours and cuddling on the bed. Gosh, if he could. He would love to bash their head on the ground but that can wait another time.

—

Masterlist | (Closed as of 7/12/2022)

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

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strawwritesfic · 1 year

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Phil Coulson x Female!Inhuman!SHIELD Agent!Reader: Guard

Summary: Phil doesn’t know where the path you’re on will lead, but he’ll be damned if he lets you walk it alone.

Rating/Tags: T (Post-Season 2 (or maybe during? I can’t remember when half this stuff happened); Phil & May; established Phil/Reader; Reader’s powers are not described; angst; fluff; manslaughter)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: Please keep in mind that I didn’t watch Agents of SHIELD very far into season four (I think...Ghost Rider was there), so it is not likely to be anywhere close to canon compliant.

Guard

Phil Coulson had seen S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters under innumerable moments of distress over his years working there. Certainly sometimes distress could bring out the best in agents, sometimes even the best in humanity. This time, not so much. Although the stressful event itself had concluded hours ago, the entire Hub still rang with the odd silence that had started things off. No one moved except for him, and no one spoke but May beside him:

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

She said this because she believed it. That Phil knew. Normally, he would have listened. He respected May a good deal; she was intelligent, strong, and unafraid of saying what needed to be said. If anyone had a handle on the situation, it was her.

This, unfortunately, was the one time he had no choice but to ignore her advice.

“You don’t have to stay,” he answered mildly.

May snorted. “Like hell I don’t have to. You think I’m going to trust Bobbi to watch your back on this one?”

“My back is going to be fine.”

“You say that,” said May, “but I’ll only believe it when I see it.”

“She won’t hurt me.”

May’s eyebrows rose, and for good reason. Two good agents had died that day. Mack would make a full recovery, but only because he was tough. Phil hadn’t been out in the field much before making the decision to go toe to toe with the person who had killed and hurt his team.

His companion did not bring any of this up, however. She was well aware that Phil already knew. Instead, she simply allowed him to move forward.

“I’ve got the door,” she said, and added, “be careful in there.”

“You know me. Careful is my middle name.”

He watched just long enough to see her roll her eyes, then turned his attention to the task at hand. Said task was opening a door–a solid, latched door keeping danger away from the rest of the team. Phil knew what lay behind it: a shaking, sobbing, unsettled young woman. He knew because there were about two dozen security cameras trained on her at every minute, as well as agents whose only task was to watch the video feeds and make an immediate report if anything inside the room changed.

He also knew because he knew [F Name] [L Name], perhaps better than he knew anyone else in the entire galaxy.

Already he had put things off too long. With a last steady breath, he pressed his hand to the flat expanse in front of him, approximately where a knob should have been. A line of blue light slid up his palm, then the whole door flashed and dissolved.

Phil stepped through the space left behind just before the door rematerialized behind him. He was sealed inside with a woman most people were now calling a monster.

You didn’t look like a monster just then. In fact, you didn’t seem as though you noticed Phil was there at all. Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the feet you had pulled up onto the cot. Every few seconds, an agonizingly tremulous breath would shudder out from your lips. Your hair was a mess, your fingernails bloodied, and your cheeks streaked with tears.

Phil cleared his throat.

You jumped about a foot in the air. When you had composed yourself enough to look over at him, said composure did not last long. Your face crumpled immediately. Despite how quickly you hid it in your knees, he saw your miserable expression.

“[Name],” he said carefully.

A pause. A tremendous sniff. You lifted your head. “D…Director.”

“How are you doing?”

Slowly, your eyes drifted away to stare blankly at your toes. “Does it matter?” you asked hoarsely. “How I am?”

Phil glanced behind himself, as though making sure that May really couldn’t hear him. He knew how she felt about the way things were, and Mack, and Bobbi, and Hunter, and most of the rest. But that wasn’t how he felt. Not even close.

“It matters. Why wouldn’t your feelings matter?” he said

You didn’t reply, at least not right away. With one arm still wrapped around your knees, you pushed fiddled with your tangled mess of hair. “What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t the answer he expected. It wasn’t even an answer, really. Still he would accept it. You could refuse to look at him all you wanted; you could pretend you were angry and that you didn’t want to see him if you wished. Phil didn’t care, so long as you kept talking. Ideally, he would have called Dr. Garner in to get you to talk. Unfortunately, Dr. Garner really wasn’t an option anymore, was he?

“I thought it would be good to have a little chat.”

Your silence was not exactly an invitation to make himself at home in your cell. All the same, he shrugged and leaned against the wall opposite you.

“Besides, it’s not the same out there without you,” he said.

Much to Phil’s surprise, you looked surprised. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say w–”

“You’re Director. You can’t say things like that about a…about a…”

“About the woman I love?” he suggested.

“About a murderer. I killed those men, Phil. Me. I killed them.”

Your voice grew quieter and quieter as you went on; your chin sank to your knees. To Phil, the distance between you and him felt endless. All he wanted was to cross that distance, sit down next to you, and make everything okay again. He was S.H.I.E.L.D. director now. Wasn’t he supposed to have that sort of power?

“You were right to leave me in here,” you whispered.

Phil looked sharply over at you. “Leave you in here?”

“When are they going to kill me?”

“Kill you?”

Apparently, you cared nothing for Phil’s obvious distress. You shook your head dazedly and still refused to look at him. “I killed three people today. I killed Mack.”

“Okay, first things first,” he started, “you didn’t kill Mack. Mack will survive because he’s always prepared. That’s the great thing about Mack. That’s why I sent him with you today. Secondly, why on earth would you think we were about to kill you? Third of all, I did not leave you in here.”

Maybe it wasn’t really fair of him to get so frustrated. You were clearly going through a terrible time. He was well aware that it could not have been easy, coming back to base to turn yourself in after what had happened. Knowing that most, if not all, of your friends were frightened and out for blood couldn’t have helped. Yet to find that you lumped him in with the rest hurt. Perhaps that was obvious enough, because you didn’t answer him this time either. All you did was press yourself into a smaller ball.

Sighing, Phil straightened up. “I should have come sooner,” he confessed. “Daisy thought that, considering the circumstances, you might want a bit of space.”

You made a noise at that, but what the noise meant, Phil had no idea. A few moments of absolute silence followed, then you made the noise again. It went on and on and on, a dejected, bubbling cry that you couldn’t seem to smother this time around.

He took a hesitant step forward, paused, then decided. Staying on the other side of the room wouldn’t do. Not anymore.

The cot creaked as he settled onto it. Most people who wound up in a S.H.I.E.L.D. holding cell weren’t offered comfortable amenities like real beds or real food or real visitors. If Phil could have offered you any of these, he would have. For the time being, all he could do was offer himself, sitting there and listening to you weep.

You did not react to his closeness like he had thought you would, not even to shift further away. He did not reach for you, much as he wanted to. He simply waited.

“I-I-I didn’t want this,” you moaned, and whether or not you intended him to, Phil heard. “I didn’t want to be Inhuman. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Everyone knows you didn’t mean to, [Name].”

“I don’t even kn-know how it happened. I just–got infected”

“The Terrigan Crystals are everywhere now. You could easily have eaten some when no one else was around to notice the change. It’s not your fault.”

You hiccupped, and closed your eyes as though the thought caused you great pain. It probably did. “I never wanted–even if I did, I wouldn’t want this…”

“[Name],” said Phil, “I know.”

Finally, you wrenched your head up so that you could face him. Your eyes appeared scarlet in the dim light–from crying so much, he assumed, not your powers–and snot glistened on your upper lip. Never in his entire life had Phil ever seen anyone look so hopeless. Somehow, he managed to refrain from touching you still.

“I’d be better off dead,” you said brokenly.

Phil’s heart burned inside him. “Daisy had trouble at first, too. It’ll take practice, but we’ll figure something out for you. We’ll have Fitz and Simmons rig up a whole training facility. You’ll get used to it. No one will hurt you before then. I won’t let them.”

For a long while, you just stared at him. Quiet tears continued to course down your cheeks, but your gaze was steady. He had a good idea of what you were thinking about while you stared at him: That Daisy’s powers were never like yours, that there was no Afterlife to learn from anymore, that no one on the team or in the entire world would ever look at you as a human being again. But the last was a lie. You were still human, and Phil could see that. Human blood ran through your veins, red as his own, even now.

You did not remark upon any of that, though. Instead, you reached your arms out toward him, and your face crumpled once again. “Hold me,” you murmured.

So Phil did, closing the gap to put his arms around you. You pressed your head to his shoulder, quickly soaking his suit through with tears. He didn’t mind. If that was what it would take, he would hold on to you for the rest of the night and into the morning.

No one else would lay a finger on you–not while he was there, and he didn’t plan to leave until he saw a real smile light up your face once more. It might be weeks before that happened; it might be years. But he wouldn’t leave your side until it did. Never again.

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lifesidefun · 9 months

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#lifestory #reallifestory #viralstories

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1-800-hellraiser · 3 years

Text

The Other Side Of Paradise

Requested by: No one

Words: 1,841

Aged up: Nope

Song: The Other Side Of Paradise- Glass Animals

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Pairing: David x Counselor!Reader

!TWS!: A small bit of swearing and mentions of suicide and manslaughter at the end.

(A/n: This chapter is kind of an alternate ending to The Order Of The Sparrow (s1ep12). Essentially what I think would happen if another counselor (aka Y/n) was there with David and Max. Also sorry if Max is a bit ooc, I can't write him well.)

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

"I know you don't but I, I know you don't but I still try. My thunder shook him down. My thunder came and shook him down."

When things couldn't get any worse, it started down pouring. "David, just let it go." Gwen says, standing beside you. "No no no! I can still light it, You'll see!" David says, as he goes back to trying to light the bonfire. The kids just stare at David with bewilderment. You hear Neil say "I can't belive I frenched a platypus for this!" Gwen sighs and starts herding the kids into the mess hall. "Come on kids...you coming, Y/n?" She asked, you shook your head. "I'll call for you if anything happens." You say as Gwen nods.

"Y/n! You understand, right?" David asks you with a desperate tone. "I do David, but-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, not knowing how to word the next sentence. You crouch down next to David, as he still tries to light the fire. You're about to speak but a certain jaded ten-year-old cuts you off. "Well David, you were right! This is amazing." You glare at Max, standing across from where David is crouching. "Max, you should be in the mess hall with Gwen," you say to the child. "If I could just, show you." David says, with a hurt look on his face.

"Do you really think a big fire and an outdated and honestly racist tradition is going to make anyone care about anything?" Max questions sarcastically. "Max..." you warn the small Indian boy. You stand up from your crouching position and kneel in front of Max. "If you don't go to the mess hall this instant, you will have double chores for a week and no pudding cups for the rest of the month. Got it?" You explain in a stern, yet calm voice. Max rolls his eyes and makes his way to the mess hall. You sigh and go back to David.

"I just wish people understood." David mumbles after an extended period of silence. "I may not understand what you're going though, but I understand what you're doing for the kids. It's admiring that you put in one hundred percent every day for these kids." You say, putting your s/t hand on David's shoulder. You feel his shoulders sag under your touch, your heart sinks to your feet. "It's just...times have changed. Whether I like it or not. The campers don't care, Gwen doesn't care, even the founder of this place has better things to do. That's why I'll never stop trying. Because somebody fucking has to." David says, you stare at him in disbelief.

"Davey, please...why don't we do this tomorrow? The wood won't be wet and you need a break from the kids." David sighs and nods his head. You two both get up and you walk David to the cabin. It wasn't exactly the end of the day just yet so Gwen was still in the mess hall with the kids. After you drop David off at the counselors cabin, you tell him you'll be right back. You open the doors to the mess hall and walk over to Gwen. Gwen was ranting to the kids about how they should respect David and everything he does to keep them safe and happy.

"Hey Gwen, just wanted to let you know David is at the counselor's cabin and he's taking a break from the camp tomorrow." You say, Gwen nods in agreement and continues to talk to the kids. You duck out of the mess hall and make your way back to the cabin. You open the cabin and notice that David is sitting in his bed, running a lanky hand through his hair. You gently close the door and sit next to him. Putting your hand on his back, you rub comforting circles into his back. David lets out a shakey sigh, "I just wanted to show them something cool, and they don't even care...what's the point anymore?" You almost stopped rubbing David's back when he says that.

"I mean, the kids don't care, Gwen doesn't care, Mr. Campbell doesn't care, you don't care, what's the point?" David sighs out, tears welling in his eyes. "David look at me." You say, putting a finger under his chin and gently moving his head to make eye contact with you. "I couldn't care more about you and everything you do for this god forsaken camp and these kids." You say, wiping a tear from David's eye. Without warning, David envelops you in a hug, sobbing uncontrollably into your shoulder. You continue to rub his back with one hand and you start to run tour hands through his hair with the other. You whisper sweet nothings into his ear, trying to get him to calm down.

After an hour of consoling him, David falls asleep in your arms. You gently move him onto his bed and pull his blanket over him. Gwen came into the counselor's cabin about a half hour ago. You tell her you'll be right back, as you forgot something in the mess hall. You exit the cabin and see Max, leaning on the right side of the door. "Max, what are you doing up past eight? You've been here long enough to know no-one can roam around past eight pm." You question, Max sighs.

"Yeah I know the stupid rules, I just wanted to talk real quick." You cross your arms and raise a brow at him. "Okay, walk and talk with me, I forgot something at the mess hall." You say as you proceed towards the mess hall. "I know how hypocritical this sounds coming from me, but I feel...bad. Bad about what I said to David earlier. And I want to make it up to him." Max says hesitantly. "Go on..." you say, pushing him to continue. "I want to do the dumb 'Order Of The Sparrow' thing." You smile, and ruffle Max's hair. He grumbles and sho's your hand away from his hair.

"Wait, Max, how are we going to do this if the other campers don't know?" You ask, looking down at the ten year old boy. "After Gwen left, I talked them into doing it. We'll wake up at the ass-crack of dawn and Preston will make the outfits and I already taped the staff back together. You just have to let Gwen know about the plan and wake David up at around five thirty am. Got it?" Max finishes, you nod. "Yes I got it, now get to bed kiddo, we have a big day tomorrow." You say, walking into the mess hall. You return back to the cabin, Gwen is awake and writing in her journal, and David is still passed out. Perfect. You let Gwen know about the suprise and ask her if she'd be willing to do it. She agrees and you both head to bed.

"Wake up Davey." You whisper, gently shaking his shoulder. His eyes flutter open "wh- Y/n? Why are you up? It's five thirty, we don't get up until six. " You blush at how deep David's morning voice is "I know today's you're day off, but I have a suprise for you!" You whisper excitedly. David rolls out of bed and you take a black piece of fabric put it across Davids eyes. "Y-y/n?" "It's a pretty big suprise, don't worry, I'll guide you there." You say as you take Davids hand and lead him out of the counselors cabin and back to the bonfire pit from last night.

As you and David make it too the spot, you quietly motion for everyone to get into position. Nikki shoots and arrow past David as you're taking his blindfold off. "Nikki! No. More. Arrows!" Gwen yells, "You can't control me, white devil!" Nikki yells before running off. David looks around at the campers and Gwen stunned. "...you're all dressed up as-" "Indians, like you said!" Neil cut David off. "We designed zie outfits ourselves!" Dolf added. "Do you love them?! I love them!" Preston interjects. "But, why..?" David asks.

"Alright I fixed it, everybody hurry up and...oh shit he's awake." Max says, holding the taped up staff. "Y/n, Max, did you-" "DO NOT LOOK TO DEEPLY INTO THIS!" Max says, pointing the staff at David. "You suck, this world sucks, and one day, we're all going to die and none of it will matter. But if we didn't do this, I'm pretty sure you'd kill yourself or something." Max finishes, David sniffs and wipes away a tear. "Oh you two..." "Or shoot up the camp, I don't know it was a possibility." Max says, shrugging. "Max!" You scold the boy.

"Thank you." David says looking at you and Max. "Whatever, just take your stupid stick." Max scoff as he tries to hand David the staff. The staff breaks in half for the third time. David pushes the staff back to Max with a heart-melting smile on his face. "Awww....lucky." Space kid says next to Max. Max smacks Space kid in the face with the staff, making him fall backwards. You stifle a laugh. You and David walk over to the raging bonfire. "Y'know, this is kinda nice." Neil says, staring at the fire. You hear the strum of a guitar and look over to Quartermaster and Gwen.

"There's a place I know that's tucked away, where we can go to laugh an play."

You look around at the smiling campers and they all crowd next to the bonfire. You and David glance back at Max. He rolls his eyes and smiles as we walks over to the fire as well.

"And have adventures everyday. I know it sounds hard to believe, but guys and gals it's true..."

"Hey Max, how'd you start a fire with wet wood anyway." You ask, looking down at the boy. "I'm not an idiot Y/n, I used gasoline." He says, your and David's face drops. "Wait what?" you both say in unison as the campfire literally fucking explodes. "WHOOO! DO IT AGAIN, DO IT AGAIN!" Nikki cheers, you chuckle and wrap your arm around David's shoulders. "So, do you like it?" You ask. "Like it? I love it. Thank you, Y/n." He says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Camp Campbell is the place for me and you."

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aftgandotherbooks · 3 years

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Father-Son Bonding

Kevin only knew about his mum from what he heard about Tetsuji telling him (which is almost nothing really) and barely remembers her himself. What’s worse is that he knows nothing about Wymack and his past. A few years after Kevin graduated, he decided to visit his dad for the Christmas holidays. Wymack was a man of habit and still lived in that one room apartment near Palmetto university, which meant that Kevin unfortunately had to sleep on the couch for the week. One night of an especially bad nightmare of Riko, Kevin moved to the kitchen to make coffee since he wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep again. Coincidentally it was also around the time Wymack usually wakes up to go out for his morning smoke. After a short and gruff “‘morning” *nod* “‘morning” *nod* exchange, both men headed out to the front porch. It was the long stretches of quiet that Kevin appreciated the most from being around his father. After spending years around people who always had something to gossip or complain about, the comfortable silences he shared with his father were a blessing. After an hour of bliss, Wymack looked over at Kevin and saw deep dark purple bags under his eyes and a surge of concern welled up in his gut. He cleared his throat and nudged his son’s shoulder, asking “couldn’t sleep?” Kevin, transfixed by the quiet morning air jumped at the sound of his father’s voice. “Yeah, um. Nightmare” he muttered, looking down at his hands that were fidgeting with the string of his pyjama pants. Wymack sighed and looked out onto the grass and birds singing their wake-up songs to the rest of the world. He nodded his head and looked back to his son. “That’s one thing that never seems to leave you alone. I had a bad one before you came. I could barely leave my bed for two days.” Wymack huffed. Kevin looked up to his father in shock. He always knew Wymack had a troublesome upbringing, but he never mentioned it. Of course, he knew something must have happened, otherwise the foxes and their reputation of ‘second-chances’ would have never even existed. However, Kevin would have never known his father was still affected by it to this day. As morbid as it sounded, it was comforting knowing that his father was struggling the same as him. Kevin had never asked about his dad’s past. Mostly because Wymack made an active effort to stay out of Kevin’s personal business after he graduated because the other Foxes had a tendency to go too far whenever Riko or the nest were mentioned. Kevin respected the fact that Wymack refused to be like that. But before that morning, Wymack never spoke of his own burdens. He barely spoke about Kevin’s mum, the pain of her absence too painful most of time for Kevin. That’s why Kevin asked “you don’t have to answer me but… what happened? Does it have something to do with mum?” Wymack was quiet for a few minutes. Kevin started to think that his dad would ignore the question altogether. But then with a quiet sigh, Wymack put out his cigarette and turned to face Kevin. “Look kid, I know you’ve been through too much shit in your life, and I wish there was a way that I could have known and stopped it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I knew you before Riko got his hands on you. The point is, I didn’t want to put more shit on you that you don’t need. But... I guess it’s only fair you know more about me. I am your dad afterall.” Kevin nodded, hearing the solemn tone Kevin was too familiar with. The same tone was used whenever Wymack was faced with another kid with a messed up childhood. Wymack then closed his eyes, breathed slowly and methodically and squeezed his hands into fists for a minute or two. It reminded Kevin of the breathing exercises Betsy taught him when he was plagued with the anxiety attacks that came with his sobriety. With a neutral and emotionless tone, Wymack started speaking. “I was in prison for a year before I met your mother.” Kevin’s face snapped to Wymack’s. He opened his mouth to say something when Wymack held up his finger to shut him up. Wymack continued speaking. “I had just turned 18 and thought it was a good idea to get in a car with my drunk best friend after we left a graduation party one of our other friends held t their house. I only had one drink that night, I didn’t see the point of drinking. My old man was in a shit mood that morning and would have punched and kicked me to hell and back if I came home 10 at night, drunk. I kept going on about how I should drive since I barely had anything to drink, but he was too stubborn and I just wanted to get home early enough. So, my friend ended up driving, and we were blasting music, all that typical stuff teens do when they’re young and too stupid to care. It only took a second of us not paying attention that a kid crossed the road to fetch a ball. What sane kid plays with a ball at ten at night?” Wymack rolled his eyes. “anyway, I saw the kid before my friend did and grabbed the wheel to swerve it to the opposite side the kid was on. It just so happened that the car swerved too far and the road was still slippery from the storm we had a few hours before. And can I just say kid, the moment the car swerved and smashed into the light pole I knew we were screwed.” Kevin’s eyes were starting to water. It wasn’t at all what he was expecting. His father went to prison? “My friend, Alex, he died on impact. He was on the side the pole smashed into. I only got away with a bruised right leg, a broken arm and severe whiplash. The kid was fine. It was actually his mom that called an ambulance for us. When I told the cops what happened, they said that even though I saved the kid, what I did was technically manslaughter. That’s why I was sent to prison. My sentence was way shorter though ‘cause I barely had alcohol in my system, and Alex was way over the limit, so he was at fault for the reckless driving. Plus, the fact that my intentions were to save the kid, not to kill-” Wymack took a shuddering breath. “Not to kill Alex.” Kevin grabbed his dads tight fist and squeezed it. “Dad, you don’t have to keep going”. Kevin said, he could see his father’s defences slowly crumbling. But Wymack, the stubborn and persistent old man he was, shook his head and kept going. “Prison was… prison. Not a fun place, and there were things that I would rather never think or talk about. And when I got out of prison, I had nowhere to go. My old man used my sentence as an excuse to stop speaking to me again. Useless pig he was probably celebrated the day I left. My mom, well she’s been dead since I was 13, breast cancer. I’ve always wondered what she would have done about it all. So, I had nowhere to go, and no one to run to. I was working at a run-down diner because that was the only place that would take in a fresh out of prison convict. It was just a few yards off from where your mom lived. Her and Tetsuji would meet up every Saturday at my diner to grab lunch and work on the specifics of how Exy should be played. I always tried to be the one who would serve her, and then we traded numbers and started talking. We got real close for a few years until she asked me to join her first trial team for Exy. She’s the one who got me a job at Palmetto when I told her I wanted to expand the sport to other universities. She gave me the chance to move forward in my life when no one else would.” Wymack opened his eyes and looked at Kevin again. “She reminds me so much of you kid. Every time I look at you I see her commitment and passion.” Kevin looked down to their hands again, and smiled a watery smile. “Thanks dad. All I ever wanted to do was make her proud of me.” Wymack huffed again and said “I’m sure she is… I know cause I sure am.”

A.N: I have no idea how the criminal system works. Nor do I know how long, or even if Wymack would have been charged. I also haven’t read the books since last year so my knowledge of Wymack’s history is limited to other fanfics, so if I got anything wrong, I’m sorry. This is just my interpretation of how Wymack’s character and his personality were formed :)

#aftg #aftg fic #aftg headcanon #aftg headcannons #aftg headcanons #david wymack #coach wymack #Wymack #kevin day #kevin & wymack #bonding #riko moriyama #neil josten #andrew minyard #the foxes #taans headcannons

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azurevi · 4 years

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adeuce + grim + mc － egg hatching!

I... deadass deleted my post while working on the tags. Looking for someone to trade hands. I don't want these sinful fingers anymore.

Anyways! This is a request from @this-red about Adeuce, Grim and MC hatching eggs! So sorry for the inconvenience caused TT your animal ideas are always so fun to write. This HC is romantically Deuce x reader!

Sam offers you and Deuce a basket consisting 10 fertilized eggs after hearing what happened that one time.

Deuce is beyond excited, but above that he is worried that the tragedy will replay itself. What if the eggs are poorly incubated? What if he drops and cracks them? What if he accidentally sits on and crushes them?

You have to assure him from time to time that he needn't worry because you'll be incubating the eggs with him.

You keep all the eggs in Ramshackle because Deuce claims that Ace will probably manslaughter them, although Grim seems just as careless.

You tried brooding at first. Got a hen from Sam's and made it brood. At first all was well...

Until the hen seemingly lost interest and flied away one day while you were in lessons. So when you came back, your room was seemingly back to the original unconstructed state - except that there were hen feathers everywhere you cleaned.

It's a miracle that the eggs managed to survive the ravage.

You guys decide to incubate them using a different method. You have them stored in a ventilated box, under a light that's kept on 24/7 to give them the optimum temperature. Everyday you rush back to the dorm between lessons just to turn them, then dash back to the classrooms again. It happens about 4 times a day.

Ace is amazed by your dedication, and lowkey annoyed that the chickens was the only thing Deuce would talk about.

Deuce doesn't trust Ace a bit. It took Ace 3 days of convincing to get the visit permit from Deuce.

Ace's face brightens up everytime he sees the eggs. Sometimes you catch him talking to them about his day.

And so does Deuce. He treats the eggs like babies in a mother's tummy. He does homework by them, have a strict schedule of when to turn them and all, and look over them until his eyes strain.

"They're not gonna hatch any earlier under your loving gaze, Deuce,"

"I know… I just can't wait to see them,"

He's just really thrilled. To think that he's going to see chicken breaking out of the eggs! The birth of life before his very own eyes! He gets excited just by thinking about it.

Grim, too, was almost forbidded to get near the eggs, but you know he sneaks up on them sometimes.

When he's bored, he sits on the eggs and pretends to be a hen.

Don't let Deuce see it though. He'll freak out.

"YOU'LL CRUSH THEM, GRIM!"

"No I won't! Calm down-"

Two weeks in and about a week before hatching, you guys decide to decorate and name the eggs.

Deuce pays a lot of effort making the eggs pretty, while Grim and Ace simply aims for funny.

The same goes for naming. Deuce searches up meaningful names whereas Grim and Ace throws random words out, like lettuce and tuna and cherry.

Deuce gets teased a lot for acting fatherly.

He doesn't care though. If the eggs are well, then he's well.

Both of you are so eager that you stay up late at night sitting beside the eggs and chitchatting until you wake up in each other's arms.

The day before the supposed hatching day the four of you were sleepless. Luckily it was a weekend, so it doesn't intervere with school.

Even when Ace and Grim succumbs to the sweet temptation of sleep, you and Deuce manage to stay wide awake because of the excitement coursing through your veins.

You're woken up by a strong tap on your shoulder. Deuce's hovering restlessly over the box, eyes glistening. That's when you know that the wait's over

On that day, 7 eggs hatched. It took a total of 4 hours to see them all hatch. Everytime a new one pops out, Deuce goes on and on about how cute it is and puts it carefully into a nice cozy basket.

And of course, Deuce fails to identify them, so his delicately decided names can't be of use.

He doesn't mind though. He's still so happy he could cry.

The second day the rest hatched, and the basket is filled with yellow fluffy chicken. Deuce scoops them up in his arm and rubs his cheek against them.

The chicken fight with Grim a lot, poking him with their weak beaks. If they weren't cute, Grim would've counterattacked.

Ace only does this when Deuce is away. He'll spread out his arms like a 'T', and Grim will balance the chickens on his arms.

He looks like a scarecrow.

When you suggest that Deuce bring some back to his dorm, he refused by saying that he'd like to spend time with both you and the chickens.

Deuce also makes tiny hats for them to wear. He's not the most crafty nor is he artistic, but they're always fitting and cool looking.

In the end, you decide to keep them in a box that's about half a door large. You've got toys for them and a thin bed of grass.

Deuce refuses to prepare for when they grow up.

#twst x reader #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola #grim #heartslabyul #sie writes

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

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Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 11

A/N An absolution

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

The sun was setting over the hills as I drove Jonah and myself out of Los Angeles and towards the desert. It was already getting later in the day so we decided to take the route through Palm Springs to stay there for the night and then make the straight shot to our shared ski lodge in Utah early the next morning.

Our drive was reasonably quiet, Jonah had connected his phone and was playing music quiet through the Bluetooth speakers in the car but neither of us were really focussed on the songs. That was a first, honestly.

I was too busy in my own mind; two Advil deep and still sporting a persistent headache while trying to piece together the events of the day. It had been both the fastest and longest day of my life. Did everyone always have it out for Avalon or was I just disgustingly dense? The way my brother spoke about her made me sick and the way Zach left our conversation with that sly dig made my blood boil. Avalon and I may have argued a lot but she was still my wife and I was supposed to protect her.

Right?

I’d be a complete asshole if I didn’t follow through with the one thing I swore to do in front of a whole congregation of our family and friends ‘til death do us part.

Goddammit.

It was dark by the time we pulled up to the resort in Palm Springs and the desert mountains were smudged into the starry sky in hues of black and dark blues. The city seemed quiet as if nightlife was non-existent. Normally, Jonah and I would complain about that – always ones to thrive off good nightlife, especially on a vacation – but right now, the quiet was perfectly ideal.

The sign out front of the resort read Riviera in curling letters and was lit from two spotlights on the grass below if beckoning us towards it. The parking lot didn’t seem too crowded, so we figured it was a safe place to stay. I parked the car near the entrance and pulled out a bit of the cash from the glovebox before we stepped out into the humid air.

Palm Springs felt far stickier than Los Angeles despite only being a two-hour drive away and I tugged haphazardly at the front of my black t-shirt to try and cool myself down a little as we headed for the doors. The burst of air conditioning that tumbled out of the building when the sliding glass doors opened for us was such a relief, even if our walk from the car hadn’t been that far. The lady behind the desk welcomed us with a smile and chipper hello and Jonah and I shuffled over quietly.

“We’re looking for a room for tonight. Two double beds preferably.” I said, keeping my voice down.

Being quiet felt necessary, even in the near empty lobby at the mere hour of 7:30pm.

The young lady typed away into her computer, her calm smile making me feel only more on edge than I already was. What was there to smile about? I drummed my fingers impatiently on the front desk and glanced back through the large windows to the direction of my car.

Her voice brought me back around, “We have a room available for you! It will be $185 for one night. Two double beds. Is a view of the pool alright with you?”

“Yeah.” I answered quickly. Pool, mountain, who gave a fuck. Honestly, dear reader, I never knew how much people can annoy me until I didn’t want to be around them.

“What’s the name for the booking?” she asked, glancing between Jonah and me expectantly.

“Seavey.” I answered and she typed it into her computer.

I figured since I told Christian we were going on a road trip it would only make sense to use my honest name if anyone came after us. God, I hoped no one would come after us.

I paid in full in cash – much to her surprise but she didn’t argue – and she passed us each a swipe key to our room.

“248. Second floor right past the pool on the other side.”

“Is there a Tesla charging station around here?” I asked.

“You’ll see it across the lot. Closer to the middle entrance doors!”

The hotel was built in a circular shape with the pool in the open courtyard centre and the two storeys of rooms in a pinwheel around it. Our room was at the far end of the building from the lobby and I drove my car down to the Tesla charging stations by the centre entrance to plug it in while Jonah pulled our bags from the backseat.

“What are we going to do with…the case in the trunk?” he asked me softly.

The quiet desert night made for ease of eavesdropping. Who could one trust at a time like that?

“The ice should keep it.” I whispered.

We opened the trunk and Jonah stood close to me for privacy as I unclipped the case and opened the top. The southern California heat had melted most of the ice on the drive and Jonah and I sighed in unison.

“Can’t keep her out here in this humidity.” Jonah whispered.

“I know.” I closed the equipment case and locked the clips again, “Bring her in with us then. It’ll be safer anyway.”

Jonah and I each draped our own bags over our shoulders and then each took a side of the case to lift it out of the trunk and onto the pavement. It was much heavier with the bags of melted ice and we found ourselves staggering a little down the hotel hallway with the weight of it. Of course we had to be on the second floor meaning we had to wait for the elevator.

Have you ever waited for the slowest elevator in the country with a dead body in your suitcase in the wide open? Didn’t think so. It is probably the most torturous thing one could experience. Or…one of the most torturous things one could experience.

I wonder if Avalon suffered.

The room was, of course, the lightest colours possible; the walls painted a light blue and the furniture and sheets all a crisp white. Jonah and I set the equipment trunk on the light brown carpet between us once we stepped inside and we took a second to look around the perfectly clean room. Where was there a place to put a bloody body that wouldn’t raise suspicions from housekeeping the following day?

Jonah peeked into the washroom that was directly to our left and he flicked on the light. The white tile floor was lit by warm pot lights along the ceiling and framed with white walls and a wood toned accent wall behind the dual vanity. The stand-alone tub was against the far wall and sat empty and perfectly clean.

We exchanged silent glances before letting the hotel room door close behind us and we lifted the equipment case into the ensuite. With equal soft huffs, we set it down on the tile and I unclipped the lid to open it up. Each melted ice bag was drained down the tub and the plastic packaging was left on the tile while we situated ourselves on either side of the case. I slid my hands under Avalon’s arms and directed Jonah to take her ankles and we lifted her up together and carefully set her in the tub. She was getting stiff so we tried to keep her in the same position we needed to put her back in the case come morning.

Jonah stuffed the empty ice bags into the bottom of the equipment case with the stained towel from home and he pulled it out of the bathroom and into the corner of the main room to keep it out of the way. I sat on the side of the tub and silently eyed the body of my wife that was lain in front of me. She seemed paler than when we left home and I sat there, afraid to touch her like she was stranger again.

“I’m going to grab some ice from the machine down the hall, okay?” Jonah said.

I glanced over at him and simply nodded before turning back to Avalon.

“Are you alright here?” he questioned.

I nodded again.

He hesitated in the doorway but left the room anyway.

I felt numb when I first found her and I felt numb staring at her now, only hours apart but at the same time it felt like months. My God; my heart hurt.

I got up from the side of the tub and went back into the main room to where my laptop case was left on one of the beds. My hoodie and jeans were still inside it and I pulled out my sweater to take back into the ensuite. I carefully slid Avalon’s arms in it and then tucked it over her head and down her torso before resting her back against the side of the porcelain tub. The light bloody handprint over the chest was easier to look at than the gash across her neck and the completely dark red colour of her clothes. She looked nicer in my clothes anyway.

I sat back on the side of the tub and let my eyes study her face again. She was staring at the wall with that eery blank expression and I carefully reached over to close her eyelids. She looked like she was sleeping. I liked to think that’s what she was doing anyway…seemed to feel a little easier that way.

I let out a soft breath and reached my hand down to brush my fingers over hers, feeling the coolness of her once warm skin. She was unfamiliar now but, at the same time, still nothing less than the supposed love of my life. I ran my thumb over her knuckles and across the diamond ring on her left hand.

The glass fell and shattered on the kitchen floor between us, silencing our screaming match except for our heavy breaths and Avalon’s sniffled tears.

I sighed at the realization that the whole confrontation went on too far and I tried to reach for her, but she pulled her hand back and moved away from me, “Aves.”

“Don’t.” she snapped.

“Avalon, I’m sorry, I-”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.” she retorted sharply, yet I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. “I’m sleeping in the studio tonight.”

I swallowed thickly and nodded, glancing to the ground with a heavy heart, the pieces of broken glass shimmering in the kitchen light between us. She went to step around me but I instinctively reached out a hand to her to keep her back from accidently stepping on any broken glass, “Careful.”

“God, Daniel.” she huffed, “Please don’t.”

I didn’t make a move to stop her as she walked around me to storm across the living room and to the back door. She didn’t look back as she opened the sliding glass door and slipped out into the darkness that the falling night brought. I watched her disappear out of the house and into the backyard, her form fading from view like she had been a figment of my imagination the whole time, the cruelest most perfect kind of dream.

Oh, how I loved her. And I was so, so stupid.

I swallowed back my tears of realization as the pieces of the night came clearer to me. How I let her leave to the studio so easily, our last words spat in hatred, and how I could never truly apologize for not being the husband she wanted and deserved. I was too much of a coward and she was too good for me.

My tears came suddenly, breaking my breath in my chest with a shutter and I clenched my jaw to try and keep myself somewhat composed as the grief washed over me in heavy unbearable waves. I clutched her hand in mine and brought it up to my lips to press a soft kiss to her cold skin through my tears.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered shakily to her, only hoping somehow she could hear me. Wherever she was. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx @stuffofseaveyy @hopinglimelight @tempus-ut-luceant @br4nd1s @xkelsev @hiya-its-amber @sexyseavey15 @the-girl-who-cried-wolf

#🔪#daniel seavey #jonah marais #why dont we #jack avery #corbyn besson #zach herron #why dont we fanfic #daniel seavey fanfic

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kenkamishiro · 3 years

Text

Jack Jeanne Playthrough Part 3 (April 5)

1 month later. April 5th in the VN. Kisa is at Univeil and excited she passed the entrance exam. She runs into her childhood friend Yonaga who's also been accepted. He's shocked that Kisa is attending too, but before she can explain Suzu joins them, introduces one each other.

Quartz's theme is "transparency" where many inexperienced performers who haven't specialized yet tend to go.

Onyx = Jacks whose forte is in dance.

Rhodonite = Jeannes who specialize in song.

Amber is where talented and unique students gather.

Suzu theorizes Kisa would be in Rhodonite because of her appearance, himself in Onyx because his physical abilities make him more suitable for dancing than singing or acting. Yonaga would like to be in Quartz.

Yonaga: Quartz...would be nice.

Suzu: I get what you mean!

Yonaga: Huh?

Suzu: Tbh I enrolled in Univeil cause I really admire Tachibana Tsuki, the legendary Jackace of Quartz!

Kisa: ...!

Suzu: That's why I wanna be in the same class as Tachibana Tsuki...come to think of it, your last names are the same.

Kisa: (If people find out I'm related to Tsuki-nii, it might make it even easier for them to discover my identity...! But it might be better than lying poorly...)

Kisa: It's true. It's the same (nonchalantly)

Yonaga: ......

Suzu: Maybe you guys are distant relatives!

Kisa: *nervous laughter*

Yonaga cuts in and says they should go check which class they're in. Kisa thanks Yonaga for the save. Their year is the 78th class of Univeil. All 3 are in Quartz.

Kisa gets called to the headmaster's office.

Chuuza congratulates her and informs her about her admission. The only ones who know that Kisa is a girl is him, Quartz's homeroom teacher Enishi Rokurou, and now Yonaga, Kisa's childhood friend. Chuuza is surprised that someone who knew about Kisa enrolled in the school.

But if anyone else finds out that she's a girl, expulsion. But since a lot of students are feminine, she won't have to go out of her way to act and dress like a boy. He reminds her to build trust with the rest of the students, and aim to become a lead and aim for the top.

Kisa arrives to Quartz's homeroom late.

??: Yes, yes, come right in.

Kisa: (The teacher...? But he's in a student uniform.)

??: You were called in quite loudly during the school announcements. Did you run into any issues on the first day? Theft, robbery, manslaughter, extortion, coercion, or a bank robbery, perhaps...?

(Please watch the clip of this scene. Can you tell he and Furuta share the same VA? 😄)

Fumi: No one like that would be in our school, Kuro.

??: But wouldn't be great to have such a plucky 1st year around, Fuumin! All the world's a stage!

Fumi: And, if the cops came?

??: I concede! Law is what keeps society together.

Kai: ...you two are bothering the 1st years.

Kisa finds a seat by Suzu and Yonaga.

Neji Kokuto (3rd year, 76th class of Univeil) welcomes the 1st year students to Univeil and Quartz. Class leader-slash-scriptwriter-slash-director-slash...all kinds of other things! He provides an info-dump about Univeil for us.

5 performances in total: Rookie, Summer, Fall, Winter, and Univeil Exhibitions. The Rookie Exhibition is where the 1st years take the lead roles, which is going to be held May 30th. Today is April 5th, so less than 2 months remain. Most viewers will watch over them warmly, but others will be more strict, like journal reporters, critics and avid Univeil fans. Neji will write a script to allow even novices like them to shine on stage. Casting will be announced mid-April. Upper years are also participating and support the 1st years.

Neji: If you have any questions, all you need is to ask. I'm sure all our seniors here will be more than happy to help you.

??: What, no way.

Neji: With some exceptions of course! Mwahaha. Mikki's a 2nd year now, you can be a little nice to your juniors, hm?

??: ...

Kisa notes he looks cute like a doll. Shirota Mitsuki, noted for his singing. He catches Kisa staring at him, and she apologizes.

Neji asks if anyone has any questions. You're given 3 options: 1) How casting is determined, 2) Type of training to be done, 3) No questions.

Casting is based on Neji's subjective judgment. Everything from how they're doing in lessons, campus life, the way they walk, talk, physique, voice, facial expressions. Essentially based on his intuition, which he uses to find gemstones in the rough.

Training I'll explain later, there's gameplay related to it.

Neji finishes his spiel and passes it on to Quartz's homeroom teacher, Enishi. Pretty low energy. Lessons start tomorrow. Class is dismissed.

Suzu meets Kisa outside the Quartz dorms and asks if she's ready to introduce herself to the other students. He notes it's hard to find people since Univeil is so large. They chat for a bit, Suzu asks Kisa to call him by his first name, so Suzu-kun it is.

Inside Yonaga's dorm. He's finished unpacking, though he's still yet to put away his books (on theatre). He asks how Kisa got into Univeil, and she explains what happened. Yonaga says he'll help Kisa to make sure she stays at Univeil. He's glad that Kisa is here with him.

Yonaga: Kisa-chan, about Tsuki-kun...

Kisa: I can't get in touch with Tsuki-nii, but I'm sure he's doing fine wherever he is.

Yonaga: I see. Yeah, I'm sure he is.

(Isn't that sketchy? Maybe he turned into that weasel with the moon on its belly lol)

Kisa begins her search for the Quartz students. At the Univeil courtyard, Kisa hears Mitsuki singing.

"Within this chest of mine I dance, the rhythm of possibilities"

Kisa: (I'd heard he was lauded for his singing, but he really has a beautiful voice...the lyrics paint the scene in my head.)

Mitsuki: ...could you not stare at me like that? It's uncomfortable.

Kisa: Oh, I'm sorry!

Mitsuki: Oh, you again. The 1st year who came in late.

Kisa: Yes. My name is Tachibana Kisa. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Mitsuki: Huh...you've got a face like a girl.

Kisa: Eh? Y-yes, I suppose so.

Mitsuki: A high-pitch voice. A delicate figure. And a Jeanne at that. At least be aware of your own features.

Kisa: I-I'm sorry.

He sighs and introduces himself. 2nd year, 77th class of Univeil. A Jeanne and a tresor (songstress/diva) of Quartz. VA is Kajiwara Gakuto (Asta). Kisa compliments him on his singing.

Mitsuki: So you were eavesdropping.

Kisa: I-I'm sorry.

Mitsuki: Well, not like I care either way. Later.

Kisa: He left...I guess he doesn't really like interacting with people. But his voice really was beautiful.

(If I had to describe Mitsuki's tone, it would be similar to Kenma, but a bit more antisocial lol)

Kisa finds Kai in the forest, seemingly concentrating on something. She decides to come back later, but Kai notices her.

Kai: ...? Quartz's 1st year?

Kisa: Yes! I'm Tachibana Kisa.

Kai: I see, you're...

Kisa: Yes!

(awkward silence between the two)

Kai: Mutsumi Kai, 76th class of Univeil. I'm a 3rd year.

Kisa: So I should call you Mutsumi-senpai!

Kai: Kai is fine. You can call me that around other people too.

Kisa: But...

Kai: ...

Kisa: ...(agrees)

Kai: ...

Kisa: T-then, I'll call you Kai-san!

Kai: Okay.

Kisa notes Kai is the Jackace of Quartz. And since Tsuki was also the Jackace, that means he must be talented too.

Kai: I'm a vessel meant to garnish the Aljeanne. Nothing more, nothing less.

Kisa is confused by his statement. Convo ends.

Kisa runs into Neji next in the hallways. He enters a room then promptly comes back out.

Neji: Welcome!

Kisa: Ah!

Neji: What're you doing in a place like this?

Kisa: I'm going around introducing myself to everyone in Quartz.

Neji invites her into his workroom where he writes his scripts and plans his staging. But he also performs on stage, any male or female role, from a shining prince/princess to old grannies/gramps.

He's currently working on the script for Quartz, but he won't reveal it just yet. Kisa asks if the other class leaders write the scripts like he does, but Neji is a special case, who screenwrites, directs and performs.

Neji: Once you get carried away, you can't see what's going on around you. What we do has no end to it. Acting, dancing, singing, they're fields that you can pursue for a lifetime. You could reach the stars, or merely end up as a master of none. No matter how much time, it will never be enough. It's a terrifying world out there. That's why it's so engrossing. The stage is a colossal device. The Jacks and Jeannes make up the gears, and I am the craftsman who pieces them together. Let's create a fantastic stage together, Tachibana-kun!

Neji must continue writing, and wishes Kisa the best for the Rookie Exhibition. (Neji definitely talks the most out of the main cast lol. And fast too, talks a mile a minute and tone varies hugely)

Kisa finds Fumi standing languidly in the middle of the dance room, taking deep breaths before beginning to dance. A Japanese-style dance where his movements are gentle, beautiful and brilliant. He comments on Kisa staring intently at him, just like during the entrance exam.

Kisa is surprised that Fumi remembered, despite the number of applicants.

Fumi: I remember you and the red-haired guy well cause you two danced so terribly.

Kisa: Oh...

Fumi: I'm just kidding. Though the red-haired guy really did suck.

Kisa introduces herself, and Fumi pauses at hearing the name Tachibana. 3rd year Takashina Sarafumi, 76th class of Univeil, but he prefers being called Fumi, no senpai honorific attached. Kisa ends up calling him Fumi-san.

Fumi: Let's have fun, Kisa. (leaves)

Kisa: It's overwhelming seeing him up close. So that's the power of an Aljeanne.

Kisa goes to her room excited for her new life at Univeil and retires for the night for her 1st day of classes tomorrow.

＊＊＊

previous || next (to be updated)

#Jack Jeanne #Ishida Sui #JJ playthrough

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mintyfrosty · 3 years

Text

Love Without Words

DID I HEAR DETECTIVE AU FLUFF!?! WELL GUESS WHAT YA GOT IT!!!

Hope you enjoy this!

Tick. Tick. Ti-- SMASH

It was a wonder how the Hell Reginald put up with that pocket watch ticking in his pocket all the damn time.

Especially in a time like this; when it was just Reginald and papers. Papers upon Papers upon Papers.

Same old bullshit, he had known.

Of course, every one of them was important, but you learned that your eyes got tired of the same black lettering that came from the typewriter. The same pattern over and over and over. It made his mind go insane. Since, well, this job had a lot of this. Just had a different flavour of spice with every new case you received. Some horrific murders, others manslaughter, others just self-defence. And everyone falling under the bracket he worked under. Homicide.

Well, him and his 'partner.'

It was no secret to The Toppat Detective Agency that the two despised one another. At least, Lieutenant Copperbottom seemed to think so. Detective Right treated him like garbage; the only REAL explanation was that he hated the lieutenant.

And dear God, Reginald wished he shared that sentiment. He didn't.

Letting out a grievous sigh, the lieutenant leaned back in his chair, letting his aching shoulders stretch out from being hunched. Overworking yourself came with many pitfalls, but pained muscles had to be the worse of it. At least in his opinion. Besides, sleepness nights and empty stomachs had become the regular for him. This was homicide they were dealing with; not a joke. He could miss some of that out for his work; this was serious. Deathly so. Yet, his tired bones did make him regret somedays. This was one of those days.

Feeling his eyes look forward, a scoff came to his lips, seeing the lack of his partner across the desk. Must've gotten up when he was deep in thought; obvious because of how scattered the papers were (Reginald wished he would clean up one day). Mumbling to himself, the lieutenant rose out of his seat, neatly tucking it in as the bones in his lanky frame popped. Wasn't long before quiet footsteps echoed through the silent agency leading towards the balcony that had a door half-open. Exactly what he expected to see; Right looking out to the city with a cigar in his hand.

Of course.

"Thought I told you to stop smoking." Grumbled Reginald, having his arms folded, soon being by Right's side within a couple of steps. The detective gave some sort of a grunt for an answer, taking in a long inhale of smoke and blowing it out to the wind.

People did what they could to get by with the stress of the 1920s. Liquor was one of them, which Reginald dabbled in slightly. Smoking was the other; Right seemed to be on that lead.

...

"Want one? A smoke gets yer mind 'f t'ings, ya know."

"Pass, thank you."

...

"Wot's 'at? On yer wrist t' ere?"

Oh.

At the comment, Lieutenant Copperbottom looked down, eyes brushing over the dollar chain bracelet that ran over his gloved wrist. Feeling his heart brighten at the sight, Reginald leaned an elbow against the railing of the balcony, resting his chin in his hand, feeling the wind flow through his hair. A million lights greeted his eyes as they fell to the sea of bustling activity within the streets of the city. Huh. He'd never taken the time to look at the view before. With his gaze out in the distance, the answer formed.

"Oh. Recently, I've been receiving these notes on my desk. Someone's got an attraction towards me in the agency, I believe. Small things, like a cup of coffee and a note wishing I had a good day. Or, oh, finding my papers stacked up neatly, just the way I liked it when I fall asleep at my desk."

Loosely, he jingled the jewellery with a flick of his wrist. "Found this today on my desk with 'from the one who loves you most.' written on a napkin."

Judging by the other's movement, Reginald assumed the other looked down to observe it.

Right had seen it before, he realised. On one of their first cases, Reginald had spotted the sight of it in the window of a jewellery shop. Immediately, he fell in love, telling himself to save up for it (even though he'd much rather steal it but that didn't look good for his reputation). Yet now, someone had heard of that interest and bought or stole it for him, leaving it anonymously on his desk. Which, to be fair, was flattering. Money didn't come easy nowadays; always a struggle to get by with the growing popularity in Moonshine. The question was; who had the money AND the dedication to Reginald to spend so much on him? Well, his partner had probably spread the word of it around the agency, he concluded; since why the Hell would Right buy such a gift for him and leave it anonymously on his desk? And well, the detective had a distaste for the lieutenant. No way he would do such a thing if he hated him.

"Yeah, right. So someone's got a big ol' crush on ye?" Mumbled the detective, taking another intake of smoke.

Well. Yes. Seemed to point toward that conclusion.

"Suppose you're right. Didn't think you'd have an interest in it." The lieutenant's ears caught the sound of the detective scoffing.

"Don't. Just find it funny someone's got the hots f' ya. Can ya blame me? Who'd wanna go pinning after you?"

... Well. ... Hm.

It...wasn't a secret that Reginald had quite the ego and took a lot of pride in his work. And so, it made a brief amount of sense why Right was so abrasive with his banter. Thought he could take it. And he could! He most certainly could; Reginald always spitting back something to amend to his comments. Curiously, however, the same rule didn't apply to this, the lieutenant's voice feeling dry as he mumbled something underneath his breath, the reflection of the night's lights in his eyes.

Heh. Who WOULD want to go pinning after him? "I don't know. I don't know."

...wasn't expecting his voice to break. Nor the tear that fell from the balcony to clash with the concrete ground after a long fall. A gloved hand brushed by his left eye, straightening himself up from the balcony. The small-dollar, gold bracelet on his arm twinked back at him, the lieutenant letting his voice give out a sigh. "I dunno. Probably an idiot."

"Ye know I'm only jokin', yah?" ...eh?

Curiosity filling his torn spirit, the shorter male turned his eyes up to his partner, who had his gaze somewhere out in the distance. Cigar twisting in his finger, the detective let out a grunt. "'m sure ye gonna find love."

... "...what?"

Well, that was... ...certainly unexpected. Yet welcomely unexpected. Just 2 minutes, Right said something that completely contradicted his statement, yet that was 'joking' as he phrased it. No way he was being genuine about Reginald having someone who was in love with him? That was almost perfect teasing material. Feeling conflicted, the lieutenant raised an eyebrow at hm. "Since when do you...not joke about things like this?"

"'til now, s'ppose." Alright then, be vague. Wasn't like that was the most out of character thing the detective had ever said to him.

Keeping a curious eye on him, Reginald reached down to grab a cigar from the pack that Right had left carelessly on a bench out on the balcony. And whilst he discouraged smoking, it was probably important to take a moment to ground himself, even if that was through Tabacco. Already heard Right scoff out a smile. "Thought ya said smokin''s bad for ya."

"It is. But do as I say, not as I do."

... Sure he was going to find love? Reginald's eyes fell to the pendant along his wrist, letting out a breath of smoke of his own.

If he was a fool, he might've thought that Right was trying to comfort him from the statement he made. Despite being a lieutenant and a master of handling evidence, he hadn't a clue to why he made such a statement when Right was usually coarse with his language. Whatever the reason, it was a mystery to him. The least he could do was to say: "Thank you..."

The other's eyes turned up from the city, body turning in his direction. "F' wot?"

"Figure it out; you're a detective." Without another sigh of smoke, Reginald dropped his cigar to the floor, stamping on it before making a walk back inside. The break was over. Had to return to work.

Blinking curiously at the door, the detective slowly turned himself back to the city, carelessly letting the cigar fall from his fingers down to the bustling city below. Someone else could deal with it. Finding himself to be very much along, Right planted both of elbows against the railing holding his face in both of his hands.

"'I dunno. Prob'bly an idiot.'" Quoted the detective, shaking his head to himself. "Ya know this idiot ain't good with 'is words."

#Detective au #MintyFrosty Au #Fanfiction #The henry stickmin collection #Henry stickmin #Henry Stickmin Collection #thsc #Reginald Copperbottom #Reginald #Right #Right hand Man #Right Hand Detective

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c0ffeebee · 3 years

Note

you got any rare kliego fic recs? i’ve probably read the first five pages of most kudos’d results but i know there are a ton that slip thru the cracks

ok, i'm sorry for replying so late, nonny, but i guess looking at the list you'll understand why ❤

i'll be honest with you once i've gotten into kliego i read through their entire tag of ao3 [at least those fics where i was ok with the tags and summary felt intriguing] so now i literally went through it again and picked those of the fics the names of which i remembered, and there's A LOT 😀 some of those are really popular, some not at all, but i remember loving those ❤

at first i thought i would tell you a bit about every fic on the list, but it would take me forever, so i will just give you titles/links, authors and summaries, hope it's fine ❤ look out for the tags tho, to know if you’re fine with everything! and some of those are benkliego ❤

i'm sure i forgot or missed something, but i did my best, trust me ❤

so without further ado i present to you:

bee's big kliego rec list (in no particular order)

till you can breathe on your own by iwishii

Diego has never been more frightened than he is now, trying to help his brother reach the surface in time.

❤ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ❤

practice makes perfect by iwishii

Klaus doesn't want to show up to parties totally inexperienced and virginal, so he asks Diego to help him get some practice in.

❤ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ❤

master of my domain by achilleees

“You’re asking five 13-year-old boys not to jerk off for – it can’t be done,” Luther says. “Now that we’re older, it would be different, but back then –”

“Excuse me, I could do it,” Five says. “I could certainly outlast all of you.”

They all look at each other.

“Oh, no,” says Allison.

❤ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ❤

the year that wasn't by achilleees

Diego turned to Five. “I’ve already, uh, lived today. This has already happened.”

Everyone went still.

“Ooh, that’s a mind-fuck,” said Klaus.

❤ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ❤

The Weight of Himself by sarkywoman

If he could, Diego would unfurl his middle finger.

For the 'can only move the eyes' square at badthingshappenbingo. Reginald's experiments have devastating consequences on Diego, but both he and Klaus refuse to let that be the end.

❤ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ❤

Laid Bare by MilenaDaniels

“So,” Five continued matter-of-factly, “you’re in a cramped, human sized box, in a graveyard where you can’t see light or hear sounds. What are the odds that you’re above ground?”

Diego blinked. He thought he’d been smelling the iron of his blood pooling and drying under his head but it was humid in here, and musty.

“Fuck,” Diego said.

Diego and Klaus are buried alive together.

❤ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ❤

Flies in the Kitchen by yourfearlessleader

Klaus is sixteen and love is a rot.

❤ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ❤

Before, During, and After by yourfearlessleader

Before the apocalypse, life was making the best of a bad situation, and Klaus found that he grew up to be very good at it.

During is, for lack of a better word, hard.

After they try to kill Vanya, after the apocalypse, after they jump through time to avoid it, after they survive and make up and a million and one other things, here they are.

❤ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ❤

break it like you're breaking a code by findyourfortunefalling

"Are you planning to sit in a chair like a person today, or are we all eating our breakfast off of you this morning?"

"Kinky," Klaus purrs, but he rolls off the table anyway, and piles himself into a seat near the head of the table. Diego puts the plate of pancakes in front of him; he's put blueberries in them today. "Thank you, chef."

"Eat," says Diego. "Quietly."

Instead of replying, Klaus picks up a pancake with his fingers, stuffs the entire thing into his mouth at once, and chews noisily.

Diego sighs, and goes back to the stove. "Man, I remember a time when you were house trained."

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two boys emerging from shadowed hallways by spikeymarshmallows

After Ben dies, Diego drags a broken Klaus out of the Academy. They're both determined to never return, to find their own way out in the world.

Things are not as easy as they would like.

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the things i can't say by spikeymarshmallows

"Diego, wait!" Klaus shouted, clutching Diego's arm.

"You look like Antonio Banderas with long hair," he choked.

Five times Klaus doesn't say 'I love you'.

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Into the Night by spikeymarshmallows

"Hey," Klaus whispered, "hey, Diego, wake up." Diego grumbled, dragging his blanket higher up his body before settling again. "Hey." Klaus tried again, voice a little louder. "Hey, wake up." He poked at Diego's arm insistently.

The Hargreeves siblings go on late night adventure to get doughnuts

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all tangled close by spikeymarshmallows

They were all going to have to deal with the pheromones for however long Klaus' first heat lasted.

Diego was, in a word, screwed.

Five times Diego and Klaus have heat sex; and one time they don't.

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the kliego genderswap/sexswap by spikeymarshmallows

The name speaks for itself.

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The Fools' Journey by sweetstuff

After his release from prison on a manslaughter charge, Diego tries to leave behind the life he adapted to survive on the inside. He finds himself drawn to a beautiful and peculiar sex worker named Klaus in a local bar, and when danger strikes Diego makes a decision that will have them both running for their lives.

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and death i think is no parenthesis by laiqualaurelote

“You guys seem really chill about all this,” observed Ben. “By this point most people are running around screaming.”

“Occupational hazard,” said Klaus.

“I’ve lost a lot of blood,” said Diego. “I’m just accepting everything at face value right now.”

Allison is the best damn realtor in the business, and she is going to sell the Hargreeves Mansion if it kills her. Never mind that it’s packed to the rafters with the ghastly relics of grisly murders, or that there’s a vampire in the basement who looks like a 13-year-old, or that the medium she hired to exorcise its inhabitants keeps flirting with some of them, i.e. the one with the knives and the one with the tentacles. Or that if they all spend enough time together, they just might cause the apocalypse.

NotSiblings!AU that is basically The Umbrella Academy as American Horror Story: Murder House, though you need not have seen any AHS to read this.

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i got troubles (they won't let me be) by antipathy

“I don’t understand why you’re hung up on this.” Five didn’t bother to mask his scowl. “Let me spell it out for you: either you two fuck, or we all die.”

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Eye Of The Storm by shadowhive

Diego decides to surprises Klaus by taking them on a weekend trip, but it doesn’t go as planned.

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Mine, All Mine by Electra_XT

“No!” Klaus said. “Move the other way.”

“What are you trying to get a good look at, exactly?” Diego said.

Klaus blinked at him. His eyes were wide and kohl-rimmed, as fetching and alluring as the rest of him. “Why, your ass,” he said. “That thing is fine.”

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On Sight by Electra_XT

“Oh,” Klaus said, stopping in his tracks with his hand on the mouse.

Ben leaned over his shoulder. “‘Cute Latino camboy gives a show’?”

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Practice Makes Perfect Sense by punk_rock_yuppie

“Practice… kissing?” Diego asks.

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Aftershocks by punk_rock_yuppie

Saving the world is hard work, is Klaus’ last thought before succumbing to the heat of the puppy pile he and his other siblings have formed.

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Passenger by Cunninglinguist

“And you’re sure that’s okay?”

“I mean, yeah. It’s fine with me. All we have to do is ask Diego.”

“And you think he’ll be...cool with it?”

“Dunno.” Klaus shrugs and stirs his smoothie with his straw. “But I’m on board with it, and he usually gets on board with whatever I’m on board with, so. I’d say it’s at least worth an ask.”

Klaus feels Ben’s eyes burning into him as he sips his beverage. Sure, the idea of Ben possessing him had initially been about as appealing as a coffee enema, and the first few times in practice had been more than slightly traumatizing. But once they’d established ground rules and worked to get more in tune with one another, Klaus had come to find the experience to be...interesting. It could be pleasant, almost zen—there is no sensation in the world quite like being a passenger in one's own body. And to be privy to both his own sensations as well as Ben’s? Well, that’s something else entirely.

Which is why the idea of Ben possessing his body during sex both freaks him out and turns him on in equal measure.

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i am a dark and wicked thing by Cunninglinguist

Klaus is staring at Diego with hollow eyes, straw still perched between his lips. No reaction, not even a spark of joy or schadenfreude as he watches Diego disrupt breakfast. Diego shifts. He’s seen corpses before, and were Klaus not sitting close enough to touch, chest rising and falling visibly with his breath, Diego could easily mistake him for one.

Vampire!Klaus AU

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The Diamond Sinners by Cunninglinguist

Another drink and a half later, he’s finally back on the right side of numb. The house lights dim and a new dancer is announced. He’s gazing across the club, eyeing the buffet with semi-tipsy hunger, thinking that it’s probably time to call it a night, when suddenly, his heart stops dead in his chest.

There, onstage, rolling his lithe body sensuously against the pole like he was summoned out of one of Diego’s wet dreams, is Klaus.

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Broken Like Me by Starrstruck_64

“This s-s-stuff will kill you,” he says plucking the cigarette out of Klaus’ fingers, delighting slightly in the fact that he’d only partially stumbled through the sentence.

Klaus smirks and it’s such a far cry from his fun loving brother he had two weeks ago that Diego nearly flinches.

“Ever stop and think that’s the plan,” Klaus says moving to stand and reaching to snag the cigarette back.

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sing it out, hard as you can by plingo_kat

The first time it happens, Klaus doesn’t notice.

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Soft by Dirty_Corza

Sometimes, between the boxing matches and vigilante business, Diego likes to be soft.

Klaus and Ben surprise him by liking the softer side of him, too.

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Wait for it by nishiki

A mission gone wrong, a dream shattered.

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all that i have to lose by UnrememberedSkies

Diego does some good, and Klaus pays the price.

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wasp by Chelseylovesllamas

Diego is scared of bugs, Klaus saves the day.

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Friday at Four by Kliegology

Diego's life takes a nosedive when he's forced out of work and into an art therapy class. He's clinging to his last shred of normality when he meets Klaus, who takes one look at him and threatens to tear it away.

“I think you’ll find you have a lot in common with the other people there,” The Therapist said, watching him shrewdly.

Diego was vividly reminded of the jittery, barefoot man in the pink fluffy cardigan. He snorted. “I don’t think so.”

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#long post #kliego #bee answers #anonymous

90 notes · View notes

miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years

Text

Last Christmas

Word Count: 2372

Warnings: Mild violence and blood some angst or is it whomp?

A/N: This one was a fun write. I need to thank @robertsheehanownsmyass for being my sounding-board, always, and for helping me with ideas! Chapter 1: God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman can be found here

Chapter 2: The Fairytale of New York

It's not that Violet meant to kill Nathan. Yet here she was, at 4:30 in the morning holding him on her apartment floor while he bled to death. Her lips brushed his freezing forehead as she adjusted his head in her lap.

Not very long before the murder, Violet woke with a start when she heard a door slam. She was drunk still from the never-ending fishbowl drinks bestowed upon her after the win. Brain fuzzy and the room spun as Violet got to her feet and rummaged through the nightstand.

She desperately searched for a missing piece and her kitchen knife. Was someone meant to be with her? Her body screamed with booze and adrenaline as she held the knife aloft venturing into the hallway.

Violet made her way to the living area. A throb grew in her ears that deafened the silence of her apartment. The night flashed before her eyes as her head swam.

How the liquor filled her goblet with just a point of his long finger. Which he told her wasn’t necessary. Just thinking about it often worked. Like how he thought the scantily clad shot girl could use bigger tits, so they inflated a size or two. The dude bro that wolf whistled at Violet and slapped her ass as she walked passed, his tongue literally fell out.

“It's MY job to sexually harass women, NOT yours!” he yelled over the techno. Then casually tossed the body part in the horrified man’s direction. “What's a matter,” he pouted his lips in a kiss, “Sexy bitch got your tongue?!”

Violet furrowed her brows now as she rubbed her pulsing temples. Had they danced? Out in the middle of the crowd, his hands on her waist as she leaned back into him. Both gyrating rhythmically to some rave remix of an 80s song.

“You are the weirdest shaped guy I've ever met!” Violet had shouted. “Like a muscular-armed stick bug”

The strobe lights flashed across his face as he strained to grasp this as an insult or compliment. Instead he took a chance and kissed Violet's neck. She let him.

There was, Violet remembered now, flirting in the back of a cab. She told him drunkenly he had Irish eyes and a green smile.

“No,” she shook her head and laughed. “Green eyes and an Irish smile?”

He laughed but smashed his face into Violet’s. His kisses were wet, sloppy. Too eager and childlike for someone in their twenties. Violet pointed that out as she wedged a hand between his face and her.

“Christ who taught you how to kiss?!” her hand squeezed his cheeks so that his mouth formed an O shape.

“M’maffs teach-a in yee-ah four,” he muffled.

“Your fourth grade teacher French kissed you?!”

“No!” he giggled “Year four, it’s. I was fifteen.”

“That's sexual assault!” Violet cried.

“Aww only if you don't want it to happen.” He tried to push his mouth into her again, but she literally ducked out of his way. Defeated, he gave up and the rest of the ride was silent.

Back in the present. Out of nowhere from behind, “Hey do you have any blank-”

It was quick. Shocking how easy it was to stab Nathan through the heart. How fate helped Violet sink the knife so deeply into him that her breasts met his bare chest before either understood what was going on.

Nathan’s lower jaw hung open as he started to grunt in pain. A dark pool of blood poured around the weapon. Stark contrast to his pale olive skin. He swayed but steadied himself on Violet’s arms. His demeanor changing instantly from panic to acceptance and his body relaxed.

Violet’s hand still around the knife as a lump formed in her throat. She scrambled out of his grip, sobs and pleas of forgiveness wracked her body as she struggled to find her phone.

“I've got.. to.. to.. to.. Call 9-1-1. It was an accident. Nathan. I'll get someone here-”

“NO!” he bellowed. “No, it'll be ok. I'll..” he winced. “Come back.”

“From what?! I STABBED YOU!”

“Death, sweetheart.” His Irish accent makes the A R sound like the word “Air.” “I've been stabbed in the heart (h-air-t) by women before, but I've never been..” Nathan gesticulated to the knife in his chest.

“ARE YOU MAKING A FUCKING JOKE?! YOU'RE DYING! Oh my God,” Violet’s knees began to buckle but she caught herself on the counter.

“I'm immortal. Christ t’is fucking hurts.” Nathan struggled to breathe. “Was impaled twice. Beat t’death once. I'll be good.”

He continued, “C’mon Vi, give us a hand,” he instructed. His shaking hand unable to grip the hilt of the knife protruding from his chest. “I'll die quicker this way. be back half past or so”

It was so matter of fact. “Pride goeth before the fall” Violet thought.

A cheeky grin deepened the dimples in Nathan’s cheeks as Violet took the carving knife out of his chest. Blood had spilled unexpectedly down the corners of his lips while he slid down the wall. Violet tried her best to catch him. To soften the blow between man and hardwood, but Nathan folded like the scarecrow coming off his pole.

Even more present:

“Joyeux Noël, Violet. You've Committed your first involuntary manslaughter.” Warm tears poured down her cheeks onto Nathan’s face.

Her legs were sticky with his coppery blood, but she kept marveling when her world soon grew quiet without his smart mouth and witty retorts. There was only a faint gurgle of blood that filled his mouth and lungs. How beautiful Nathan would always be to her in this moment because immortality was for vampires and mythology.

She would never forgive him either. It took longer than Nathan insisted, heart still pumped dark crimson into her hand used as a piss-poor tourniquet. But the beating slowed to a stop as Violet absently combed her fingers through his thick hair to soothe her exhausted body into a fitful sleep.

This time it was the heady smell of eggs and sausage that roused Violet from her sleep.

There was humming and singing in a language she didn't know as someone rattled about in the cupboards.

One hand over her eyes, head felt like someone bashed it repeatedly with a drumstick, she came to life. Her mind grabbed at flashes of kisses and a knife and Nathan being dead. The hallway, but this was her couch?

Suddenly she sat straight up, “OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!” Violet's hands and bare thighs were caked in dry blood. She flew off the couch and went to Make it down the hall to the guestroom. But instead she slipped and fell in the coagulated mess on the hardwood floor

“Aw yep,” a harsh Irish lilt quipped from the kitchen. “I meant t’clean that up before ya woke, but I wasn't sure where the supplies were.”

Violet simply laid down on her floor, defeated. “I killed you,” she whispered.

Nathan appeared above her. His shaggy hair fell across his forehead and the goatee and mustache Violet swore he had shaved was back. He consciously fumbled to button his dress shirt that she was certain he wasn't wearing as he lay in her arms.

“You were in your underwear. You were bleeding to death last night in your underwear only,” she sat up grimacing at her blood caked hair.

“I cleaned up the best I could. Told ye it would be half five when I came to. Didn't wanna leave ye on the floor, so I carried ye t’the sofa. Sorta did a bit o’the whore’s bath in your sink.” Nathan mimed washing his body, “Not really comfortable with the whole showering in a strange bird’s gaff without permission.”

Violet stumbled to her feet with Nathan’s help. His reflex to catch her as she slid again in the mess was quick. Their chests pressed together again. His skin against hers as she clung to the seams of his shirt to balance herself. Violet's face flushed. From a hangover or how warm Nathan was. Alive.

“I ran you through with a carving knife. You died in my lap. You turned ice cold and had purple lips and I thought to myself how many times I asked you if you ever shut up.”

“Only when I'm dead,” Nathan absently stroked her hair. Large hand gently rubbed her back and took a chance at getting a squeeze of her ass.

Violet ignored what Nathan did and refused to look at him. Not in those ever changing eyes anyway. Instead she placed her hand flat on Nathan's smooth, if not slightly stained, chest. No gaping wound, heartbeat steady.

Violet's own heart pounded in her ears as the adrenaline from touching him raced through her veins. There was no denying that he was just as beautiful alive.

And no denying that Nathan eagerly tried to crash his mouth into hers, but Violet swerved. “Are those my underwear!?”

Nathan stepped back to pop his shirt up and push his own backside in her direction. “Mine were ruined,” he rubbed himself and bit his entire bottom lip. “Oi they're soft and make my ass look great.” He slapped it for good measure.

“I like you better dead"

Nathan sneered sarcastically and rolled his eyes. His lips moved with no sound coming out but baby babble. "See if I make YOU breakfast again!”

A hot shower and clean clothes later, Violet climbed onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. Her houseguest sat a plate of food and a mug of tea in front of her

“Found some peppermint. Mum says that helps with a hangover.” Dimpled grin before he turned around to finish cleaning up her kitchen.

“Oh,” Violet was taken aback by his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” she meant it. “Hey! You’re not using magic.”

“Nooo. I'll use it sparingly until I have to give it back. Been right fucking fun while it’s lasted.”

“You’re cleaning my kitchen.”

“Yeah? If you tell us where some brushes and such are, I'll clean the floor next.”

Violet felt a pleasure seep into her bones as she sipped the hot tea. It was nice to have someone to look after her for once. She had time to really watch as Nathan scrubbed the pans he used. She took notice of him biting a cuticle or chewing skin off his lip as he carefully searched her drawers for a towel. He flitted about kind of like a hummingbird; never staying still long enough between tasks.

“Nathan you don't have to do any of this. I know it's just a layover until you're back in London. I The situation isn't exactly ideal. Now that I murdered you, isn't it fucking weird?” Violet questioned around a mouthful of food.

He faced Violet while drying the dishes. “Nah. Been killed loads of times. Impaled twice. Sewer pipe. Metal picket fence. Then had my head bashed in. Stabbed in the heart by a beautiful girl who is a bit dodgy about me kissing her is tops now!” A bright smile crept across his face.

“why are you cleaning then?”

Nathan scratched the back of his head in thought, “Well, so ye don't have t’remember I was ever here.”

Violet’s mouth hung open but she closed it quickly. “Who the fuck would ever want to forget you?” She started to laugh, “I watched your anger literally explode in hundreds of rabbits. I probably drank a hundred bucks of liquor for free. You took a guy’s tongue out for slapping my ass. And you're..”

Nathan leaned on the island top with his chin in one hand, “Immortal?” He wiggled his eyebrows seductively.

“An Irish prick,” Violet cocked her own eyebrow in return. Nathan pouted.

“I've gotta go to the casino. I know someone in the back of the house who found all of your shit. Please just stay here. Can you do that?” She got up to get a bucket and cleaning supplies from the closet.

“Do you know how many movies start with someone saying don't move?!” There was a gleam in his bright green eyes.

“Nathan, I mean it!” she commanded from the bedroom. “I have to go Christmas shopping too. Jesus it's Christmas eve.” She hobbled back into the living room trying to pull a shoe on.

“Fine. But if I find porn anywhere and have a wank out of boredom, that's on you lady!” He mimicked masturbating in her direction.

Violet’s face contorted in disgust as she threw on a leather jacket. “Grow up.”

“Tried that. She ran away with all the money, and I went to prison. When do I meet mum and dad?” shit-eating grin

“They're dead.”

Nathan’s face fell. For once he was momentarily speechless. “My step-dad’s a dog.”

Violet's hand was on her doorknob, but she paused. “Wait.. Like cheats on your mom dog?”

“More like turns into a naked Jack Russell at night with his massive cock out all over town.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“So much. T’anks for asking!” Nathan grabbed Violet by the wrist. He spun his finger in a circle ever so slightly. “Just a bit o’ Christmas magic before you go?”

Violet gasped as a sprig of mistletoe manifested itself above them. A bough of pine spread on either side of the doorway wrapped in tinsel. Little white lights started to twinkle from inside.

“Nathan, it’s beau-” but Violet was interrupted by his mouth covering hers again.

He was softer this time as his hands gripped her waist. His tongue gently slid into her mouth and Violet accepted it. Her body relaxed into him as their lips moved on instinct. But she found herself as quickly as she had gotten lost. She managed to wedge her hands between their bodies so she could push herself away.

“No. Nope. We can't do this. You're leaving the day after tomorrow, and I'm not a fucking Hallmark Christmas movie.”

Nathan brushed his nose against Violet's forehead, “I think it's too late for that.” But she turned abruptly and left him cold by the front door.

“Make yourself at home, okay?” Was all she shouted from the other side of the door.

#robert sheehan #nathan young #nathan x violet #lord of chaos #robert sheehan character fic

34 notes · View notes

defiblover27 · 3 years

Text

Stroll

WARNING: This story contains large amount of blood and is graphic.

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Kate was getting ready for her morning walk. She was 28 years old five foot two with long blonde hair. She was trying to get fit after giving birth three months ago and was still trying to lose the baby fat. Her breasts were enlarged due to the breast feeding but overall she felt healthy. She put on her grey yoga pants and sports bra before putting on a black t-shirt and her tennis shoes. She got the stroller out of the closet and buckled her baby into it. She left the house and hung her key around her neck on her necklace. Everyday started the same with a two mile walk around the town. Her husband had left earlier to go to his desk job to try and support his new family. Kate was a little over a mile into her walk and was already headed home. She crossed back over the street and her baby’s bottle fell out of the stroller. She pushed the stroller to the curb before walking back out into the street to pick it up. Without looking both ways, she bent down and picked up the bottle as she stood up she was suddenly struck by a car. The driver had briefly looked down at his phone and never saw Kate. Next thing the two knew Kate was on top of his hood. He braked harshly causing Kate to roll off the hood at a high speed and then tumble on the pavement. A pedestrian saw the accident and quickly dialed 911. The driver was in shock and it took a few moments for him to realize what he had done. “Shit! No, no, no” he said in a panic as he got out of the car. Kate laid on the pavement unconscious with her left leg visibly broken and multiple lacerations to her body and face. She also had a large gash on her head from the impact with the windshield.

In a few moments sirens could be heard in the distance as the small town street was flooded with emergency services. The police department was first on scene. One on the officers secured the driver and took a statement and field sobriety test while the other tended to Kate. He shook her shoulder and called out “Ma’am, can you hear me?” With no response he bent down next to her face and listened for breath while checking for a pulse. There was a faint heartbeat but Kate was in respiratory arrest. The officer tilted her head back, pinched her nose shut, and gave mouth to mouth respirations. After each breath he turned his head and made sure her chest was rising and falling. After giving three sets of two breaths he reassessed the condition and checked for signs of life again. This time to his dismay Kate’s heart had stopped beating. Without hesitation he placed his large hands between her large breasts and began CPR. He felt her ribs pop from the aggressive compressions but kept going knowing this was normal. After his first round of CPR the ambulance arrived on scene and rushed over. “Upon arrival she was not breathing so I started MTM and then her heart stopped and I just provided one round of CPR” the officer reported. “Can you continue CPR please?” one of the medics asked as they set down their equipment. The officer centered his hands and began again. With each compression Kate’s feet swung in and out from the force. One of the paramedics placed the ambu bag over Kate’s mouth and nose while the other snipped away her bloodied shirt. Kate was found to have extensive bruising and large amounts of blood on her chest. The paramedic set up the heart monitor and connected the leads. As the machine started up it found that Kate was in v-fib so the paramedic charged the defibrillator to 200 joules and gelled the paddles. He snipped away her sports bra revealing her ample breasts and placed the paddles on her bare chest. “Everyone stand clear, shocking” the medic said as he discharged the electricity into Kate’s body. Kate jolted on the pavement for a moment before going still. With no change CPR was resumed and an IV port was placed. They started fluids and pushed the first round of meds into her system. The paddles were recharged to 300 joules and placed back on her bare chest. As everyone backed away Kate was shocked for a second time. Her arms contracted and her breasts shook as she met the pavement again. This time Kate converted to asystole as CPR was resumed. They decided to scoop and run as they secured her onto a back board and place her in the ambulance. The police officer went with them to continue CPR and whatever else he could do. The other officer placed the driver in handcuffs and took him to the county jail for processing. The second police car secured Kate’s baby and took her to the hospital until her other family could be notified.

The fight for Kate’s life continued in the back of the ambulance as she was intubated and the second round of epi was administered. Her belly bulged outward every time her chest was compressed and her breasts shook. The epi began to take effect as she converted into v-fib for a second time. In a moments notice the paddles were charged to 360 joules, gelled, and placed back on her battered chest. The shock coursed through her body as she struggled against the restraints. Her head stayed in place due to the c-collar. With no change compressions were started and the defib was charged to 360 again. Again the paddles were placed between her breasts and under her left breast as she was shocked. Her feet jumped off the backboard slightly and then went still again. Unfortunately, Kate’s heart also went still as she converted back into asystole as they pulled into the hospital.

As they rolled her out of the ambulance and into the hospital and officer straddled the gurney and continued CPR. The officer noticed that her house key still hung around her neck as it shined with each light the passed under. They rolled her into the trauma room as the paramedics gave an update to the team that was already gowned and prepared. “Jane Doe mid to late 20′s involved in a pedestrian vs motor vehicle. She coded shortly upon arrival, has been under continuous CPR and shocked four times. Has been given two epi’s and converted into asystole upon arrival here.” The scribe took down all the information as the officer got off the gurney and she was transferred onto the trauma bed. The straps were quickly unfastened and a nurse took over CPR as the team each performed their delegated tasks. The overhead light was repositioned as the blood on her chest glistened and the key around her neck sparkled. The rest of clothes were snipped away and her shoes and socks were taken off. In a moment Kate was nude on the table as the team desperately fought for her life. Kate received her third epi at her 12 minute mark of her code as CPR continued to compress her battered body. They attempted to control the bleeding from her lacerations and the bone sticking out of her leg. The attending took an ultrasound of her abdomen and found that her belly was full of blood. He asked for a surgical consult as her listened to the breath sounds. Finding diminished breath sound on her right side he decided to place a chest tube. He squirted betadine all over her right side and made a 1 inch incision before shoving the tube into place. A large amount of blood poured out onto the floor as it was secured. This helped regain breath sounds on her right side as her code continued. Kate converted to v-fib once again as the defib was called for and charged to 360 joules. The doctor took the paddles in his hands, a nurse squirted a large amount of gel onto them, he rubbed them together before placing them on her bloodied chest. As everyone backed away and the ambu bag was laid against her face he pressed the shock button. Kate’s chest shot into the air as her arms flailed out ward. She crashed onto the bed again as her breasts shook. With no change aggressive CPR was resumed and the paddles were recharged. Kate’s arms and legs shook with each compression. Again the paddles were placed on her chest and the electricity coursed through her dying body. Her feet scrunched up and her hands made loose fits before releasing again. Kate converted back into asystole as CPR was resumed. The doctor took his penlight and shined it into Kate’s light blue eyes. Her pupils were fixed and dilated. He noticed a large amount of blood underneath her head. Feeling the back of her skull he found brain matter was protruding from her skull. At that time Kate’s code was ceased and her time of death was called at 11:24 am. They disconnected the ambu bag, leads, and turned off the monitors. The placed a toe tag on her big toe of her left foot and covered her with a white sheet. They were unable to clean her up at all as the police department had to take photographs for the case against the driver. Kate’s ID was found in the stroller and her family was notified. The driver was convicted on involuntary vehicular manslaughter and sentenced to 25 years in prison without parole.

#cpr #defibrillator #defib #accident #resuscitation #resus

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astrablossom · 4 years

Text

Three Cups Of Tea

A03 Version 》 Buy me a coffee?

Pairing: Barbatos x Mammon x Diavolo

Shall We Date? Obey Me Fic

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: double penetration, oral sex, anal sex, spanking, whipping, use of toys, slight praise kink, threesome

Summary: Mammon gets caught in the castle and Diavolo and Barbatos decide to humor him.

* this has been in my drafts for months. Never done a threesome till now.

Once more Mammon decided to sneak into the castle to steal something priceless and sell it on Akuzon. And of course, Barbatos caught him red-handed. Nervously he tried to make up some excuse but Barbatos wasn't having it.

"Oh, we have a guest?" Mammon jumps up in shock at the deep voice and slowly turns around to see Diavolo smiling down at him.

"Yes my lord. It seems Mammon has decided to take an interest in your father's crown." Barbatos said in his usual calm demeanor.

Nervously, Mammon runs a hand through his hair "Hahaha!" He looks from Diavolo to Barbatos who both blocked any possibility of him escaping. "Well now t-that I've seen it up close...ima just gonna head on home. Bye!" He rushed the last part of his sentence to turn heel only for a large warm hand to rest on his shoulder, freezing him in his tracks.

"Now now Mammon I'm sure you can stay a bit longer. After all, you did take the time to visit us right?" The hand slowly trails down to Mammon's hip and for a moment his brain short circuits.

"Lord Diav-"

Barbatos pique in, "I would suggest you take your lord's kind offer Mammon," a small smile gracing his face. But Mammon knew better than to believe that for a second.

Mammon was beginning to regret coming here.

As Barbatos left to pour some tea for the three of them Mammon sat in his seat with embarrassment. Sure he's been caught more than once on a quick grab and run theft but never has he'd been caught red-handed by Diavolo. Speaking of which Mammon could feel Diavolo's gaze piercing through him. Tentatively the avaricious demon raised his head to see Diavolo smiling lightly at him. It shamed him to admit the prince was indeed handsome and he ended up looking away, sucking his teeth.

"What're you lookin' at?" He mumbled in an agitated tone. He wanted to go home. Any punishment from Lucifer would be better than this.

Probably.

Diavolo chuckled at the thief's attitude, making Mammon give a confused look. Diavolo merely sighs in content. "I am simply looking at you Mammon,” he purrs in a very low tone. "I can see why your modeling career has done so well." The door to Diavolo's room opens and Barbatos walks in with three cups of tea on a platter. "It makes me wonder why you would have to steal from me." Mammon gulps at the sudden change in the atmosphere and coughs to distract himself.

Barbatos picks up a cup and hands it to him while Mammon is accepted. Diavolo picked up his cup of tea last and silence fell upon them. The flavor of the liquid felt warm against Mammon's tongue and he swallowed it with no problem. He was unsurprising with the sweet taste it left in his mouth.

Barbatos takes a sip. "Shall we discuss your punishment?" The question came so naturally to the butler that it brought a shiver down Mammon's spine. "Y-You're joking, right? I rather not...uh." He shakes his head even though he typically had no say in the matter. "Besides, I gotta go anyway!"

Before he could even move a large warm hand touched his clothed knee which made the avatar jerk up.

Diavolo smiles gently, his golden eyes barely illuminating what was in store.

"I implore you to stay."

Diavolo's attention strayed to his D.D.D as he typed something before sliding it back into his pocket. He sat in a grand chair across from the bed where Mammon sat squirming around in Barbatos' hold. A riding crop and lube sat down forgotten on the sheets. The hum of the vibrator and Mammon's labored moans were the only sounds that echoed in the private chamber. Golden eyes showered over Mammon's glistening form. Barbatos' nimble fingers travel to the front of his chest to tug on the nipple clamps harshly enforcing a scream from the thief as the pain sends sparks through his body.

How long had they teased him? Mammon had lost track after the first three hours. Between the spankings, Barbatos had given him and the pretty cries that fell from his now kiss blistered lips he was sure he had ascended to the Celestial Realm.

Barbatos carefully bends Mammon down, the whip marks from earlier activities still throbbing red and anew on the demon's melanin skin, now visible to the prince. His white hair was an entire mess, straying in odd directions from being gripped on too long.

"Please direct your attention to Lord Diavolo, Mammon," Barbatos commanded and Mammon being a bit sluggish in movement, took time to raise his head to meet Diavolo's eyes. His eyes were watering and fluids dribbled from both his nose and mouth. He was trying to say something but only a whimper left his lips when Barbatos' bare hands ran over the shell of his ear. He wanted to be fuck. It didn't matter which cock it was, any would do.

Diavolo's grip on the chair arm tightens to the point it nearly cracks. He had held himself down for hours, suppressing his sexual urges as he watched his loyal servant break the Avatar of Greed down to a basic concubine.

"B-Barbatos-" he finally managed to stutter, bucking his hip against the butler.

"G-Gimme...p-p-please." A chuckle escapes Barbatos and he comments how he was still greedy even in bed but it went over the demon's head. All he wanted was release and it seemed like Barbatos was finally going to comply. His sapphire eyes roll into the back of his head when the pressure of the vibrator in his ass increases. A high guttural noise that sounded more like a growl was released from his throat as he came on the expensive silky sheets. He arched his back against Barbatos, the deep slope of his backside curving downward in bliss.

Mammon looked gorgeous.

Barbatos eyed Diavolo with a twinkle in the gesture. Once he had his lord's undivided attention he began raising a hand. The sharp blow on Mammon's cheek came down with no warning and Barbatos took full enjoyment in the scream and the way Mammon's ass jiggled in front of him. Hushing the other softly he caresses the reddening cheek with false kindness, waiting for Mammon's whimpers to die down before immediately continuing with his ministrations.

"Ouch!" Mammon screamed out and squirmed a bit as the manslaughter against his ass continued. No part of him was safe. The tears were returning and Mammon could feel himself hardening once more, even moaning a bit when Barbatos' hand moved just above his balls.

"You truly are a sadist" Diavolo comments in a playful tone, his words making the demon more ashamed of his situation.

"This is part of your punishment", Barbatos explains through each spanking. "But if you manage to behave you'll be rewarded significantly." His hands switched to the other cheek and Mammon was starting to cry again, small moans mixing in with his pain.

"Now apologize."

"N-No..." He grunts when he is suddenly flipped on his back getting a view of Barbatos' bare chest. The butler somehow still kept his formal appearance, a small smile on his pretty face. but his face was different from its neutral expression. His smile was crueler and his brows furrowed.

"No?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, you heard me!" He hated the stutter in his voice. Did Mammon make a mistake? He probably did but for some reason just seeing Barbatos become unraveled felt worth it.

He is kinda pretty too, he thought to himself, eyes minding the fit but petite body.

Mammon watched as the nude butler raised his hand in a backhand position. Before Mammon could even think, the slap that collided with his cheek was enough to make his head turn in the direction.

Another slap was down on his face again. And again. And again. He was gasping at pain blossoming in his face and it was long before he was crying out for Barbatos to stop. It only made the butler's pupils dilate.

When another bruising slap lands on him, this time on his sensitive nipples, his back arched in pleasure.

"M'sorry...for stealing..." he slurs out but even Mammon wasn't sure he meant it.

"To think you would get off on this." Diavolo's voice brought Mammon back to reality. Barbatos watched silently as the two locked eyes, Mammon's attention shifting down to the huge tent straining against the prince's pants. His eyes widened and unconsciously he ran his tongue over his lips, the final warning before Diavolo broke his restraints.

"Enough." The demon stood from his chair, hands already unbuttoning his jacket and Mammon watches with embarrassment as the prince stripped himself before him. He grunts when he feels the vibrator finally being pulled from his ass, leaving a large gaping hole. He hears a small hum from behind and the shuffling of more clothes falling.

"I should warn you that Lord Diavolo tends to go overboard." Warm hands pull Mammon up into a sitting position and the demon manages to give the butler a puzzling look which he merely smiles at. Wasn't he just beating the shit out of him just now?

"Do not be surprised if you blackout." Was the only warning he received before the bed sunk from the extra pressure of a body finally joining their extracurricular activities. Mammon gulps at the sight before him. All of him was screaming to run but he knew it was useless, the majority of his body was exhausted. He flinches a bit when a finger pushes a few strands of hair away from his face.

There Diavolo stood naked in his royal glory, the lights from above defining all his muscles and his face in all the right ways. If Mammon wasn't blushing before he certainly was. For once a quiet spell came over him as Diavolo took to studying every nook and cranny of Mammon's handsome face. His fingers graze the side of his jaw, trailing down to his lips. Unsure of what to do Mammon opened his mouth a bit and gently bit down on the prince's thumb. His body still sensitive felt hyper-aware of Barbatos wrapping his arms around him, placing a small kiss on his neck.

"You truly are gorgeous." Mammon stutters at the sudden compliment from the prince who smiled. "Don't you agree Barbatos?"

"I do." The butler places another wet kiss on Mammon cheek, taking joy in the way the other flushed. "Your moans are very pretty. And you are rather needy in bed..."

"Yes. He is isn't he?" Mammon averts his gaze from the towering prince suddenly feeling uncomfortable from the compliments. It seems Diavolo was onto him and firmly grips Mammon's face directing to his gaze only.

"You don't believe me?"

He starts to stutter. "I-I never said-"

"The prince's word is law Mammon." A hand travels down to the thief's gaping hole. Barbatos used a single finger to outline the circle of it, occasionally pushing a finger in. He places a kiss on his ear before whispering in a taut manner. "You should show some manners and thank him."

Mammon looks at Diavolo unsure but it didn't matter when the prince captured his lips. He lets out a soft moan, not used to soft gestures. He feels Diavolo's tongue run over his lips demanding entrance. He parts them and moans into the kiss when Barbatos' tongue slips into his ear, probing at the inside. It should've made him feel disgusted but instead, he ended up moaning in the kiss with Diavolo. His body searing hot and he couldn't keep up with his tongue was exploring the inside of his mouth.

He's really warm, Mammon thinks between the kisses. This went on for a few more minutes before the two separate, a trail of saliva trailing from their lips. Mammon hums a bit when Barbatos pulls from his ear looking proud of his handiwork. Carefully, without instruction, the demon pulls away from the butler to lower himself in a more lewd position and neither of the older two stopped him. His ass stood upright in Barbatos' lap, back arching into a lewd slope allowing his face to be dangerously close to Diavolo's erection. Mammon eyes it dutifully, noting the barbs that stood on both sides and how the girth as thick as his wrist. Diavolo was hung.

And Mammon wanted it. He hooks his arms around Diavolo's waist and places a small kiss on the side of the tip, looking up for permission. Instead, he was greeted with lustful eyes staring daggers into him. Diavolo laughs.

"I can see why you're Lucifer's favorite." Just the mention of his brother was enough to fluster the avatar.

"Don't bring him up during sex!" The Avatar of Greed could hear Barbatos chuckling from behind and opted to ignore it. His attention drifts back to his Majesty's cock. Licking his lips, he presses them against the budding red tip, flicking his tongue around. The taste of precum greets his taste buds and he does this a few more times before finally taking the tip in his mouth, suckling like a baby. He can hear Diavolo sighing from above, and he feels his chest heat up from the pleasure.

As he continued Mammon slowly started to take more of Diavolo in his mouth. It was a difficult task since Diavolo could barely fit, drool dribble down his mouth onto the bedsheets and even the prince himself found this in its own right adorable.

However, this was a punishment and his patience was wearing thin. Grabbing Mammon's head he chuckles slowly at the dazed expression on the demon's face. Mammon's eyebrows rise when he feels something warm probing at his ass. Fingers crawled up his spine in a sensual manner and Barbatos lined himself up.

"W-Wait-'' a warm hand pries his jaws open and it seemed the two were in sync when they shoved themselves into Mammon with perfect coordination. The thief screamed out from the sudden intrusion, his loose hole somehow tightening around Barbatos' girth and sending vibrations up Diavolo's shaft. He squirms around but the two start to move inside of him, their cocks sliding in and out of his holes at a brutal pace. It hurt so much but it felt good in all the right places. Each time the demons thrust in him the heavy nipple clamps tugged his skin. Barbatos has scarily accurate coordination and kept slamming into it with no mercy. And the soon to be king was even more relentless, using Mammon as nothing more than a simple tool for relief.

It felt so good. So incredibly much that even Mammon wasn't aware of his approaching orgasm. It crept upon him like a snake and the force made his body heave and clench around both demons before he came again, more aggressively before blacking out.

When he had woken up it was in a body of limbs. It was hot. Hazy from the sleep, Mammon slowly started to raise himself, wincing at the pain that traveled down his spine. The wounds and bruises from the whips and spanking might've healed already but his body was still tender.

The room was dark save for the little light from window and it took a moment before all his memories returned. Mammon was quick to turn only to see Diavolo fast asleep. Barbatos on the other hand was awake, although a bit tired.

"Come." He whispers in a surprisingly soft tone, tapping the space where Mammon slept a mere seconds ago. Of course, Mammon wanted to say, to run and bail but instead, he made a noise of irritation before flipping back down, cursing when pain shot up through the body.

He knew Barbatos was still awake. It made him feel a bit on edge but what he didn't expect was for the butler to slowly wrap a leg around the demon's waist, carefully moving with silent precision to not awake the sleeping prince.

Mammon immediately flushed, anger in his voice. He wanted to sleep for crying out loud. "Are you insane?! He'll wake up!"

"Not if you stay quiet." Was all he heard in reply before an arm wrapped around his neck. Something wet touched his collarbone and he realized Barbatos was kissing. Just the way he was acting now was a huge contrast to the sadist from earlier.

"Didn't know you were a freak" he grumbled but his tone held no bite when he moved his hand to grip his softened cock. He pretends not to notice the small jump in his chest when he hears the butler huff. Almost like a laugh.

Whatever. He didn't want to think anyway. By the time his erection hardened Barbatos had already lubed himself which made Mammon think how if he didn't even move?

He feels Barbatos stirring, warm skin gliding on his and the sheets moving down to reveal the butler's form. Carefully he crawled into Mammon's lap, a finger on his lip to be quiet. He looked over to see the prince sound asleep and smiled before clamoring on top of Mammon. Grabbing a hold of his erection he carefully sunk himself on the avatar, the two moaning softly. "Damn...it's like a pussy…" Mammon murmurs and watches idly as Barbatos rocked himself. The very little nightlight that cascaded through the room and onto his pale skin made him look more ethereal and erotic by the second. He said nothing as he rode himself with such ease to hold his moans.

This day made no sense. But it was a night Mammon wouldn't forget.

Buy me a coffee?

Comments and reblogs are appreciated.

#obey me #shall we date? obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me mammon #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #diavolo x mammon #barbatos x diavolo #barbatos x mammon #obey me smut #ao3 fanfic #astrablossom writes #swd mammon #swd barbatos #swd diavolo

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

I signed up for this, too

TITLE: I signed up for this, too

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her. RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: So… I had written the original one-shot for this imagine (Related to previous OS: I signed up for this) and then realized that I kind of wanted to give the story a little more depth. And so I wrote one little follow-up to resolve some of the questions I had in my head. It went wherever it wanted to, to be honest.

As far as warnings go, some language, mentions of abusive relationships, the horrid sensation that not every win is going to feel like a win, a dumpster fire human being (who totally deserved the blaster punch), and some awful logic.

= The local healer had said it was a muscle sprain, but Loki was pretty sure it was some absurd form of penance Stark had conjured up. Of course, even though he wanted to blame most of his sufferings on Stark, he had told Loki to take the day off and rest. But how could he rest when he had so many items left on his to-do list?

“Look, Rock of Ages, taking a breather won’t immediately turn you back into a baddie. I think you can rest your shoulder today and get back on the horse tomorrow without the stars falling out of alignment,” Tony argued over the line, choosing to ignore the pained grunts on the other end as Loki tried to put his jumper back on. “Are you even listening to me, Lokes?”

Loki rolled his eyes, glad that the man of iron was nowhere near him to see the expression. “Not at all. Obviously.”

“Take. The day. Off.”

A long stretch of silence passed between them before Loki deigned to answer. “I can’t, Stark.”

Tony made a clever sound on his side. “Meaning you have Charlie on your rotation today. Is that it?” Another beat of silence rang through the line. “Ugh, fine. Go to Charlie’s, but you go straight home, afterwards. You can’t be running yourself ragged. That isn’t helping anyone.”

“Fine. As you wish.” He did not sound pleased with the decision, but last time he tried to overwork himself, Stark sent a flight suit for him and locked him in a room of the Tower until he fell asleep. He wouldn’t put more severe measures past him, either.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Someone has to make sure you don’t kill yourself.” Loki grunted, having heard him before Tony sighed. “Grab some mint chocolate chip ice cream on the way. That’s her favorite.”

Another grunt and Loki stood from the medical cot with a frown. As long as he didn’t try to move his right shoulder in any meaningful direction, he didn’t feel like screaming in pain.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from shouldering several heavy, reusable grocery bags on that same painful shoulder when he was on his way to Charlie’s. He told himself that she was likely low on groceries again, though he knew that he kept her pantry and refrigerator overflowing in food. Whenever the mental image of his first meeting with Charlie floated into his mind, her face gaunt and pained, hoping death would sweep her off before anyone was the wiser, sent full-body chills through his system. Loki was not eager to repeat the experience. He had sworn to it in his heart.

Not that their relationship had gotten any easier.

Charlie, for the most part, was still weary of him; maybe even resented him. Stark had told him how smart she was, how good at her job as a web developer–something she could no longer do. She had a knack for getting things right the first time around. Which was particularly frustrating now when she felt like nothing ever went her way.

Loki knocked on the door, calling her name. He refused to continue using the greeting Stark furnished him with, and he had a sneaking suspicion Charlie preferred its disuse, as well. There was no answer.

When he opened the door, the apartment was seemingly empty. This wasn’t a rare occurrence. He put away all the groceries as quickly as he could, including the ice cream, and continued further into the home.

“Charlie.”

His ears prickled, and he twisted the bedroom door open to let himself in. Charlie was there, but not in good form. She was sat on the ground, with her mobile in hand and tears streaming down her cheeks. This wasn’t dainty or delicate–ugly crying, she would call it later. This was full-on, couldn’t-catch-her-breath, chest-wracking, head-pounding sobbing. Loki was surprised with how wide her mouth was and how much air she seemed to swallow that it was relatively quiet. Like if she were used to suffering in silence. The thought made him uncomfortable.

“Charlotte, darling, what is going on?” He hesitated placing his hand on her shoulder, though he had kneeled down beside her for that express reason. He was a monster. That wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t fix it. Gritting his teeth against the sour taste of bile in his mouth and the unwanted voices in his head, he shushed her quietly and tentatively touched her head.

Sniffling, Charlie leaned into Loki’s frame, causing him to lose his balance and land on his bum on the floor. She didn’t seem to mind the tumble, and even gripped his midsection in a vice while she sobbed. “Someone… call… charger… can't…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know…,” he trailed off, opting instead for smoothing down the cinnamon curls that looked to be in need of a brush.

“My charger.”

Loki’s nose scrunched up as he thought for a long moment. Whenever he felt like he no longer had to play charades to understand her, she went ahead and proved him all sorts of wrong. It shouldn’t be this difficult, honestly. “Your charger?” He felt her nod against his chest and the corner of his lips lifted reflexively. He sometimes wished he could capture these small, innocuous, sweet moments so he could keep them in perspective on days when she was having none of his attempts. He supposed he could take a picture with his mobile– “Oh. The charger for your mobile device? Is that it? You can’t find it?” Another nod against his chest. “I thought it was something serious. I was contemplating how much longer I would have to do chores for committing manslaughter for you.”

Charlie let out a surprised chuckle. “That’s not funny.”

“You laughed, anyway,” he pointed out with a smile he knew she couldn’t see. “Tony swapped out your chargers for wireless. There’s one on your bedside table by the lamp. You just need to lay your phone down. I told you about this last week.”

“I panicked.” Her voice and expression were both sheepish.

“It doesn’t do you well to panic.” The line was well-rehearsed, as often as he said it.

“Someone was calling,” she explained, brow furrowed into a tight frown.

“Even then, dove.” He started to maneuver them so they could get off of the floor, though his shoulder screamed from bearing her weight, bridal-style.

“It was Ben.”

“Oh.” Loki stilled, just short of putting her down on the bed. “Do you want to borrow mine? You could call him back.” The offer physically pained him, like an unnecessary tourniquet around the arteries of his heart that he would attribute to his utter hatred for the man. He managed to set her down on the corner of the bed before he looked for his own mobile in his pocket. He exchanged hers for his in her hand and put hers on the charging station.

“No! He left me, Loki.”

“He left you because of me.”

Charlie was glaring into the nothingness before her, looking rather irate. “No, he left me because of me. Because he didn’t want to deal with a blind girlfriend,” she grit out.

“I made you blind.”

“No, the Chitauri made me blind, you’re just the idiot being played who opened the door.” This was not the first time they had had this discussion. Every time they did, she showed Loki the human being’s capacity for forgiveness and his proficiency for being a fool. She was too kind.

“Charlie, you–”

“I’m not going to argue about this today, Loki. So, for all intents and purposes and ease of understanding, just assume I’m always right.”

Loki smirked, despite himself. Her response was a little more heated than usual, but it didn’t lack the certain bit of cocky humor he was used to seeing from her. “Whatever you say.”

Her shoulders slumped, though she seemed calmer. “Could you make me some tea?”

“Of course,” he replied, almost excitedly. Charlie didn’t tend to ask for favors and when she did, it felt like he was earning just a little bit of the trust she placed in him. “I’ll braid your hair after. You’re looking a right mess,” he teased. Even though she glared in his general vicinity, she allowed him to take her hand and bring her to her feet.

“Do you think I should call him back?”

Loki stopped cold, causing her to bump into his side. In one swoop, he pushed Charlie behind his frame and tensed. “I don’t think you have to, Charlotte.”

Standing at the kitchen island, glancing around the flat with interest was a man, a couple of inches or so shorter than himself, who Loki recognized from the dozens of photos he had put away in weeks prior. At the sound of their voices, he had turned to face Loki and Charlie and the gentle brown gaze turned so poisonous Loki had trouble breathing. He didn’t look particularly dangerous. On any other occasion, with his magic, the man would have been an easy feat to get rid of, but now… he was no better than a garden variety mortal. With a muscle sprain, at that. And a crippling sense of self-doubt.

“Get the fuck out of my house right now!”

Loki started, and he immediately felt Charlie grab a handful of his jumper and hold him close. “It’s alright. I have you,” he muttered. Her head popped out from around his large frame, as though she intended to peek around him.

“Charlie, what the fuck?” The man seemed no kinder when directing himself at her.

“This isn’t you house,” she replied, voice uneven.

“What have you done to her? I swear to God that if you’ve touched her, I will strangle the life outta you,” Ben growled, every step he closed in with causing the floor to tremble with his rage.

Charlie pulled Loki tighter. Her breathing was now coming in shaky pants that blew against the fabric of his jumper and tickled his skin. “Please, don’t let him near me.”

Loki half-turned, expression etched in concern. There were unshed tears building up in her eyes and her usually warm, caramel complexion looked pale and pasty. “Charlie, are you afraid of him?” She gave an uncertain nod. “Did he hurt you?” She didn’t reply, but the way her shoulders tensed and she lowered her empty gaze was answer enough. A growl ripped from his throat. “Lock yourself in the bedroom. Now. Call Tony.”

He barely waited for a response before he was strutting his own earthquake towards Ben. The other man’s eyes widened slightly at the oncoming Asgardian. Loki quietly swore that he would rue the day he decided to mean harm to Charlotte Camden. He would regret every single moment he had intended to roughhouse himself back into her life, as if he had not left her to slowly kill herself in the first place. Mostly, he was going to make him think twice about squaring off to a demigod who had spent his formative centuries fighting men several times burlier than him.

Sure, he was no better than a mortal, but his anger was transcendental.

Bam! Crash!

The blow had left Loki’s arm jarring and sent Ben in a crumbling heap to the floor. He breathed through the pain caused by both the sprain and the Nanny Cam, as Tony called it; a small sensor that could detect when Loki was doing something unsavory, like fighting outside of a gym, and sent a set of shocks through his system. It gave Ben the chance to scramble to his feet and spit blood onto the floor.

“So, is that all you got? Is that why you needed the aliens? Because you’re such a pussy?”

Loki made a noise of distaste. “Midgardians and their misplaced sexism. Is that why you felt justified to hurt her? Because you thought her the weaker sex?” He scoffed. “My world touts female warriors that are any Midgardian villain’s worst nightmare. You don’t offend me.”

“No, monsters don’t get offended, do they? They just refuse to die,” Ben snarled, lunging for Loki, who ducked last minute and crashed onto the floor with a hiss of pain.

A boot nearly went through his eye socket a moment later, before he rolled away. He had to fight both Ben and the sizzling at his nerve endings as he put the man in chokehold, praying to every deity he knew, anyone who would listen, for him to be able to subdue the other man before he himself passed out from pain. Ben kept driving his elbows into Loki’s ribs, causing his grip to falter and the process to start all over again. With one last burst of strength, Loki tightened his hold until his muscles nearly locked into place. It was a few seconds before the body in his arms went lax and he dropped the other man onto the floor.

Tony burst in the door a second later.

“Took you fucking long enough,” Loki panted, doubled over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“You good, Lokes?”

He shook his head, though that wasn’t helping the fact he had started feeling dizzy. “It burns. My whole body. Burns so much.”

“Oh, fu– FRIDAY, deactivate Loki’s Nanny Cam.” Loki let out a gasp and dropped to his knees, letting out a sob of relief as his muscles stopped warring against themselves.

“Loki?” Charlie sounded worried as she called from the bedroom.

Loki bit back a groan. “I’m coming, Charlie. It’s alright. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

She appeared at the doorway a moment after, lip quivering. “You’re lying.”

Tony looked sympathetic. Loki was having a hard time summoning the will to tell him to wipe the endearing look off his face as he glanced between them. “He’s OK, Cee. He just needs to breathe it out for a sec.” Stark suppressed an impish smile. “Do you want to help him to the couch?”

Charlie nodded, making a perfect beeline for him. Loki would have laughed at the occurrence had it not been for the searing heat in his lungs. The woman made her hardest effort to pull the much taller Prince to his feet and then felt her way to the living room. They dropped awkwardly into the sofa. Loki found the feeling of her hands clumsily searching for wounds sort of soothing. When she met no sticky patches of blood and no places where he stifled pained gasps, she sat back a little more relaxed.

“Is he still here?”

Tony had just cuffed Ben and was waiting for the proper authorities to come collect him. "Yes, but he won’t bother you. Tony has him.“ Charlie squeezed him as tight as she could and Loki felt his words become muddled with his chaotic thoughts. "I don’t deserve this.”

“Shut up.”

“He’s right. I’m a monster. I can’t fix you. This will never be enough.”

“Shut. Up.” She squeezed tighter.

“Charlie…”

“I’ll feel inclined to demonize you when you start hitting me for bumping into things like he did.”

“He did what?” Tony roared and Charlie started. Loki’s hand on her back settled her erratic pulse.

“That doesn’t justify me.”

“No, but it justifies me.”

Loki ripped his gaze away from the woman hugging him, forcing himself to focus on the limp body on the floor, instead. He could feel his brain justifying a million and one ways of torturing the cretin. He would enjoy it, making him scream in pain, but he had the feeling that Charlie would protest. After all, she had been mourning his departure just a few weeks ago. The vermin suddenly shifted as he stirred awake and blinked confusedly at Stark.

“Tony?” Ben asked weakly, before the whine of his suit blasters filled the air and Tony sent a super-powered punch into his face.

“Oh, shit. I’ll be right back.” Loki peeled Charlie’s arms from around him and pressed a kiss to her crown. He scrambled to pull Tony back. “No. No, no, no. Not worth it. Ton-Tony! Stop.”

“Let go of me, Black Parade. I’m gonna fucking to kill him.” Loki hissed at the strain he was putting on his shoulders again, as he held Stark in a vice until he settled. “He put his hands on her and I’m going to return the favor.”

“No. Let him rot. Possibly with a cell mate who needs a punching bag.” Tony grumbled, prying free, though he stopped the assault. “Could you take the trash out, now? I don’t think he needs to be here a moment longer.”

–

Loki and Charlie sat on the floor of her living room some time later. Her attitude was bright–Loki would even go as far as to call it chirpy. It was as if a weight had been taken off of her shoulders. She held a steaming cup of tea, a blend of Loki’s own devise, and sipped noisily as his fingers handled the tresses of her hair with care and efficiency. The overly complicated plait, fifteen strands altogether, looked impressive as he tied off the end in a small elastic.

“There we go. All done. Alright, Charlie?” She hummed her agreement and nodded, busy taking another noisy sip. “Ever the lady.”

“Ever the lady,” she mocked back, imitating him and laughing at the fact she could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “How’s it look?”

“It’s good. It’s brushed.”

“Yeah, but, how does it look?”

“Oh.” Loki faltered shortly, feigning to fix a strand here and there to buy himself some time to order his thoughts. “Well, your hair is light brown, cinnamon, and glossy. Very curly. Quite soft, too.”

“Yeah, it’s called conditioner, greaseball,” she teased easily.

He chuckled, shoving her the lightest bit forward in response. “I started with a single braid in the front of your head, and started adding others a third down until they all joined near the back of your skull. Then you have a fifteen strand braid running all down your back.”

“What? Too lazy to go for 21?” She had reached back and was feeling the intricate knots with her fingers

“I’m not sure you can sit still long enough for 21 or 28, though you would look–” He wanted to say pretty, but it felt too wrong on his tongue. “–darling. Like a puppy in a sweater.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was quieter and he assumed it wasn’t for the braid.

“Don’t thank me. You have nothing to thank me for. I only did what was right.”

“You know, one of these days you’re going to have to stop being so glum and penitent. Whoever wants to forgive you, already did and the rest don’t care enough to change their minds.” She sighed, putting the mug down with a soft clink. “I know it’s not worth much, but I’m glad you're–”

“Don’t! Don’t say it, please.” His voice shuddered, as did his whole form, especially when Charlie, with all the care in the world, turned around in her place and reached for him until she gripped his jumper. His green eyes were internalizing every detail of her overly concerned expression, from the frown on her lips to the little notch that formed between her brows as they pulled together. “Charlie.”

“Loki of Asgard, god of Mischief and burdened with glorious purpose, I’m going to tell you a really terrible fact and you’re going to have to deal with it.”

For a moment he nodded, before he remembered that though her hazel eyes looked lively, they could not see him. “And what’s that?”

“When you brought the Chitauri and I–you know… In a backwards way, you saved me.”

“Charlotte, I–”

“I wouldn’t have escaped, otherwise. It didn’t start with me going blind, but I suspect you know that now. I will live because of your hare-brained plots.” Her hand had glided up his arm to his neck, and stopped at the curve of his jaw. “Not that I’m saying anything you did was right.” She patted him gently with a ghost of a smile on her face. Her touch burned him in his inadequacy.

“Why are you telling me this?” He managed to choke out, as he covered her hand with his, reveling in the ache it made him feel.

“Oh, buddy. The answer to that is really fucking complicated.” She chuckled. “But, the short of it is, as it turns out, I signed up for this, too.” If she minded the tears catching on her fingers, she did not mention it. “So, what do you say? Can we help each other out? Be friends?”

“Yes, please,” he replied breathlessly before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in tight. From within the cocoon of his embrace, she giggled, but otherwise remained still until he settled down. For the first time in a while, Charlie ate without complaint, Loki felt at peace with himself and they both ate a whole gallon on mint chocolate chip ice cream by the spoonful on the couch.

#Loki #Angst #Others #Submitted one shot #submission #I signed up for this too #Fanfictrashdump

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