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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years ago

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Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel #god of mischief #fanfiction #fanfic #tom hiddleston

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

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We Don't Talk (About That) [Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader]

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: Affection has never been Cassandra's strong point- neither the giving nor the receiving of it. But when it comes to you, she's determined to try, regardless of the obstacles in her path. Notes: Spiritual sequel to Everybody Talks Too Much, but they can be read in any order. Reader is selectively mute, but ends up talking in this one, partially due to being high on a fever, oops. The reader in this one is also a lil bit sassier than some of my other ones, hence why it has tentatively earned my "blunt teeth sharp tongue" tag.

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

“Seriously? You’re wearing white for this?” Cassandra says, eying you with a look of disbelief. All you can really do is shrug in response. After all, your hands are occupied with your current task: Wiping blood off of the corridor floor. That didn’t leave much room for miming, or writing anything down. “You’re going to fuck up your sleeves, you know that, right?” Another shrug, this time with an added humming noise, just for fun. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why Cassandra was hanging out, let alone why she cared if you got your shirt dirty. It’s not like she would be the one to do the laundry. More than that, she was the one who had decided to punish a maiden in the middle of the hallway.

Still, you would never think to voice your questions, or otherwise indicate your feelings. Not that you had feelings about her, or anything, the mere idea of that was ridiculous. For a completely unrelated reason you find yourself glad that she could not see your cheeks from where she stood. Glad I don’t talk, you think, otherwise I’d probably say something really stupid right now. Instead, you focus on your work, scrubbing hard at the floors. Despite your companion’s warning, not even a single drop of blood ends up staining your clothing. That’s why I rolled up my sleeves first, babe!... And that’s why I don’t talk, you think, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

“That was fast. Sure you didn’t miss a spot?” Cassandra asks, stepping over to where you had cleaned. Before you can protest she’s leaning down to examine the floor. Which would, you know, be fine. If she didn’t have blood (and dirt, and who knows what else) on her gloves, that is. Groaning, you try to slap her wrist, temporarily forgetting your place. Next thing you know she’s pushing you to the ground, on top of you with her hand posed to strike. You flinch, instantly, clamping your eyes shut to prepare for the inevitable. But, just as quickly as she had gotten on you, she climbs right off, refusing to meet your confused gaze, refusing to answer your unspoken questions. “You’re lucky that mother thinks you’re useful,” she spat, leaving you with one last angry huff.

“What the fuck?...” You whisper, as soon as you think she won’t be able to hear you. Of all the things she could have possibly done in response… this was the only one you couldn’t justify. There’s only one thing that could possibly help you cope with your confusion: Cleaning. Thankfully, the same person who had just flipped your mind upside down had also left a few boot prints in her path. Humming softly to yourself, you get right back to work, gleefully ignoring what had just transpired.

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

“Why do they do that?” Cassandra snapped, storming into the library, immediately demanding her older sister’s attention. However, Bela does not respond, merely looking up from her book with an eyebrow raised. Frustrated, Cassandra sits down at the table before slamming her fists onto it. At this, Bela sets her book to the side, realizing that she couldn’t ignore this tantrum. “Oh come on, you know exactly who I’m talking about!”

“Yes, I do, because they’re the only person you’ve given a damn about in a decade, maybe longer,” Bela replies, rolling her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I have any clue what you’re complaining about this time. What did they do, hmm? Did they brush their hand up against yours? Make a heart with their hands again? Oh, let me guess, they smiled when you walked into the room.” At this point, Cassandra was nothing if not predictable, much to her own frustration. How often had she come to her sister, in confidence, to have this very conversation? Countless times, and never once with a clear goal in mind.

Just a head full of thoughts of you.

“They touched me,” she admits, after a few seconds of agonizing silence. The words feel heavy and wrong on her tongue, like they were coated in syrup, too sweet to be anything other than sickening. “Slapped my hand away like I was a kid sticking a fork in an outlet, for fuck’s sake! Who do they think I am?” Now those words felt better. Angrier- left a worse taste in her mouth, but easier to swallow.

“That depends, were you trying to stick a fork into an outlet? Sounds like the sort of thing you’d do to impress them,” Bela teases, laughing even when her arm gets smacked in retaliation. “Maybe you should just ask them, then, if you can’t fathom why they might touch you. Or you could simply wallow in self pity for another decade, pretending to hate their guts when really you’re desperate to get laid?”

“When did you get so rude?” Cassandra snaps, standing up with a scowl.

“Oh, probably about the eighth time we had this talk?” Bela replies, quick as a whip, smiling all the while. If she was going to have to endure this sort of thing this often, she might as well have some fun with it. But this appeared to be the end of this particular conversation, with a miffed Cassandra making her exit, once more leaving Bela to read in peace… for a while, at least.

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

She can’t find you. She’s looked just about everywhere, asked every maiden she’s come across, and all any of them had to say were nervous apologies. Where were you? Why were you absent, now of all times, when she had finally decided to speak to you? Curse my luck, Cassandra thinks, barely restraining herself from wreaking havoc on her surroundings. Though maybe they’ll show up to take care of my mess, she muses, then thinks better of it when she imagines your exhausted expression. After all, there was only one place left for her to look: Your personal quarters. If you weren’t there, then, well, there’d be a new problem entirely.

“They better have a damn good reason for hiding away,” Cassandra mumbles under her breath. Then she’s opening the door to your room, not bothering to knock. What could you want to hide from her anyway? “Oh shit.” Evidently she hadn’t thought this through. There you were, asleep in bed, shirtless, a washcloth on your forehead. Every muscle in your body seemed to be shivering, and the occasional weak murmur leaves your lips. It doesn’t take more than a moment for Cassandra to act. Clearly you’re cold, hence the shaking, regardless of how warm it feels to her. So she’s grabbing a blanket from your dresser, quickly covering you with it. “Is that better?”

You don’t respond. Not that she truly expected you to. But the way you continue to shake has her even more concerned, and a trace of panic starts to set in. She searches for other blankets, laying them on top of you, confused as to why you aren’t getting better. C’mon, asshole, she thinks, I’m trying to help you! As if summoned by her frustrations, a maiden soon swings the door open, freezing in place when they see her. Instantly she’s whirling around to face them, a cruel remark dying in her throat. Of course it was one of her mother’s favorites. Eventually, she would have to find someone else to take her frustrations out on.

“Lady Cassandra? What are you-” Cynthia, senior staff member of Castle Dimitrescu, veteran of more than five years, starts to ask. But once she spies the pile of blankets on top of you… well, her eyes go wide. “Damn it, my Lady, you’re going to kill them!” With that said she’s rushing forward, setting down a basket of who-knows-what on your nightstand, before quickly removing the extra sheets. Half confused, half furious, Cassandra stands nearby, unable to decide how to react. Perhaps noticing this, Cynthia is quick to explain her actions. “They have a fever, the worst one I’ve seen in all of my years here. They may be shivering, but trust me, their skin might as well be on fire.”

“I was just trying to help,” Cassandra defends, words rushing out before she can stop herself. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“Clearly, and I don’t blame you. Let’s just be glad that I came to check on them, hmm?” Cynthia suggests, giving an oddly motherly (i.e. reassuring) smile. On one hand, Cassandra doesn’t appreciate being talked to like this, at least not by someone other than her mother. On the other hand, well, she is glad that she hadn’t accidentally killed you. Taking a moment to let her heart rate slow back down, Cassandra moves to lean against the wall closest to you. She can’t help but frown when she sees the way your eyes flurry about beneath their lids. What are you dreaming about? Is it a nightmare, she wonders, or something softer, like you deserve?

“Can… can I help?” She asks, voice hardly more than a whisper. It was too late to save herself from embarrassment, but it wasn’t too late to contribute to your recovery. Or at least that’s what she hoped. There’s relative silence for a few moments, as Cynthia thinks over her words, swapping out the damp washcloth on your forehead all the while. When she finally replies, she does not look up from her task. Always the professional.

“Stay with them. If they get worse, come find me immediately. If they wake up, try to get them to drink some water, and ask if they’ve been injured recently. I couldn’t find any wounds on them, but this mess reeks of an infection,” Cynthia says. Opening the basket she had brought in with her, she removes several bottles from within, examining their labels with a tight-lipped frown. “None of these will do shit- pardon my language, my Lady- if it’s an infection, but it should help them fight off the fever until I can get them some proper antibiotics. Well, until the Duke can, that is. Make sure to ask them if they have any allergies to medicine before you give them anything, and please read the directions. They only need to take one kind of pill, alright? I only brought a few kinds in case they can’t have certain ones. Is that clear, Lady Cassandra?”

“Crystal clear,” she chimes, only briefly looking away from you. It’s enough for Cynthia, however, and she leaves with a simple bow. Once more alone with you, Cassandra approaches, gently taking your hand within her own. “You’d better wake up soon. I don’t want to have to babysit you all day…” Doesn’t want to, but would, if that’s what you needed. Wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. At most, she’d make someone fetch her a book to read while she waited. Except… now that she glanced around your room, she found that there were some things to keep her entertained. Like your beloved notepad.

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

What do you mean? I don’t think she feels that way about me. Don’t be ridiculous, she doesn’t like anyone. Because I pay attention to her! It’s not hard to know what she does and does not appreciate, you just need to observe her. No, not like that, don’t be gross. Keep teasing me and my cheeks won’t be the only thing around here that’s red. Oh fuck off, fine, I’ll go talk to her, but you owe me one. Then the page ends, with the next two having been torn out. A few letters here and there are still legible, on what little remains of the missing pieces. Lov- and want her- and wish. Try as she might, Cassandra cannot find the rest of the pages. What had you possibly written that would make you discard all evidence? It’s not like anyone normally went through your notepad. Had you predicted that one day Cassandra would do this?

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She growls, dropping the object with an angry sigh. “Who the hell were you writing about? Who were you fucking talking to? Why won’t you wake up, you goddamn asshole?” Through all of her shouting, you do nothing but shake in place, shivering against a non existent cold. Several hours had passed since Cassandra’s arrival, without you doing so much as batting an eye. Slowly but surely, she was being driven insane, exhausted from worry and jealousy alike. Strange how the most obvious answer eluded her so consistently… Yet hope does not entirely abandon her, as eventually her tantrum manages to pierce the haze around your overheating mind.

“Shhhhhhh. Please,” you mumble, eyes still closed, hardly aware of anything around you. All you really knew was that someone was being insufferable. Hell, your fever was driving you wild, and you didn’t even think about the fact that you hadn’t spoken out loud in front of anyone for over three months. Later, after you recovered, you would be glad that it was Cassandra who finally heard your voice. “Inside voice, mhm? Sleepy time…”

“Did- did you just?” Cassandra asks, stunned, shaking her head as if it might make her realize she was dreaming. But no, this was real, and you really had just spoken to her. It’s enough of a shock to render her speechless for a minute or so.

“Thanks, babe. Need to sleep this off. Or… no, wait, I was supposed to tell someone something?” You ramble, trying to sit up, a hand instinctively going to hold your head. The washcloth falls off of you, and you stare at it in confusion. Before you can start questioning the nature of it’s (or your own) existence, you are distracted by Cassandra, who has traded her own perplexion for determination. Next thing you know, you’re quietly sipping at a glass of water. Exhausted, despite having just been asleep, you eye the nearby medicine with curiosity. “I’m… supposed to tell Cassandra something, maybe? Fuck, why is it so warm in here?”

“You have a fever, dumbass,” Cassandra replies, once more finding her voice, still too overwhelmed to process what’s happening. “Look, you have to take something for your head, okay? Then we can… then we can talk about your feelings all you want, okay?” Maybe she was being a bit presumptuous about what you needed to talk about. Or maybe she was just, for once in her life, being hopeful. Regardless, she presents the medicine to you, getting ready to ask about allergies. Before she can, however, you’ve silently reached for the Ibuprofen and started opening it up.

“This’ll do. For the head, not for talking. We don’t-” you pause to take the pills, gulping down half a glass of water with them- “we don’t talk about that. Feelings. Makes her get mad, and I don’t want her to be mad,” you say, shuddering a little at the thought.

“I won’t get mad this time. Besides, you don’t normally talk at all,” Cassandra replies, rolling her eyes again. Finally, for the first time since waking up, you take a good, long look in her direction. Suddenly you’re putting the pieces together, groaning in protest when you do. How had you not realized? How deep into this fever were you?... “Don’t tell me you just figured it out, ‘babe’? I’m amazed you’re functioning at all right now.”

“Fuck you, Cassie,” you snap, mostly teasing. If she wasn’t freaking out about what you had said, well, then maybe you didn’t need to say much more at all. “You’ll still like me when I’m awake enough to be too scared to talk, right?”

“Honestly?... I was hoping this would be more of a permanent thing,” she admits, refusing to meet your gaze as she puts away the unused medicine. “But I guess I can live with being the only one who knows what your voice sounds like. So don’t you dare fucking talk to anyone else, alright?” She’s joking now, too, sounding more relaxed than she usually was. Even with your body fighting against itself, you can’t help but laugh with her. Then she’s slowly sitting on the edge of your bed, next to you, watching you with adoration clear in her eyes. “You’re going to be fine, right? Because if you die on me, I swear I’m going to kill you.”

“With you as my nurse? I’ll be lucky to last the night,” you joke, pretending to whimper when she gives you a playful slap on the arm. “Nah, nah, I’ll be alright, just as soon as I get some rest. Probably. Maybe you should, uh, stay with me? Just in case.” Next thing you know, Cassandra is pushing you down against the mattress, placing a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead. Then she puts the washcloth back on you, making sure it’s still somewhat cold. Without another word she settles in, leaning against the backboard of the bed, close enough for you to feel her warmth, but far enough that she wouldn’t risk raising your temperature. “Goodnight, Cass,” you murmur, before letting yourself drift back to sleep...

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #blunt teeth sharp tongue #that means the reader is a tad sassy #not quite unhinged tho #a nice middle ground in this one

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gnzma · 2 years ago

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[ i have decided to reply to all the salty munday asks except one here to avoid clogging the dash with negativity

why except one? beacuse. thinking about it, that one in particular ended up being more an excercise for me to let out some really bad memories that. turns out i suppressed until now? i guess. and i’d rather approach it in another way, explain it in better details and give a proper warning before talking about it

for the rest

join me under read more! and fair warning my mood isn’t one of the best so don’t expect me to have. the best english nor a lot of tact asfndmg ]

4. What are some things you are tired of seeing in the RPing community? asked by @tellnxlies & @badmusejail

[ people not putting their money where their mouths at? like the amount of ppl who preach about sending stuff before reblogging memes and not doing anything about it? or seeing promo hour, posting their promo and moving on without promoting anyone else, even worse if later on they complain about cliques.

it’s this... problem that a lot of fandoms have, i’m sure, but i literally have no problems with this kind of stuff in any other RPC i’m in. it’s this constant complain about lack of interactions, and then not daring to take a step further to take the first step ]

7. Things that you will not tolerate? asked by @kotoyin & @tellnxlies

[ ofc the usual stuff; p/edophilia, r/acism, you name it. the usual things that i don’t even mention in the rules because the few people who were into that shit literally didn’t give a damn about much lighter rules, they wouldn’t have cared if i said, hey! maybe don’t interact with me if you want to do unspeakable things with a child?

but for more personal stuff, i despise people who treat me like a moron. i had my fair amount of “oh i’m sorry i don’t have a tumblr” from anons who def have it, or “i know you have this in your rules but since we’re friends i figured it was worth a shot” when it comes to ships or fandoms i don’t rp with. ]

14. Your opinion on muns making canon characters Trans/ gender fluid etc.? asked by @hxdrostorm

[ the same i have for any other interpretation when it comes to gender, sexuality or even mental health: i don’t see the problem as long as they don’t make it into their character’s Only Personality Trait or turn it into nothing but fetish (because, yea, been there, seen that) ofc if the mun is cis it’s heavily encouraged to do research or contact trans/NB friends and mutuals to ask for help, but. yea ]

15. What is your biggest pet peeve? asked by @turnecoat, @hxdrostorm & @skullkxd

[ People Who Just Want To Ship Get Out Of Here

seriously ik i’m digging my own grave by playing characters that are. arguably “the fandom favorites”, but if i had a nickel for every person who jumped in my askbox expecting my muses to be immediately in love with theirs, ESPECIALLY if they’re characters, ocs or canons, i 1) don’t know anything about since even every canon character has very personal interpretations and 2) i have no idea if they’d have chemistry i could buy this entire site

i know some want to rp just to have a ship, and that’s FINE, i don’t judge! but don’t shove me into your nothing-but-ships blog my dudes

especially if you expect me to do all the hard work and your muse is perfect/did nothing wrong/deserves to have my well-known often antagonistic and shut-in muses to bend over and be lovey dovey to yours right off the bat ]

16. How much does it take for you to get angry/upset? How long does it usually last? asked by @hxdrostorm

[ sdfnmdf it depends so it turns out!!!i have problems dealing with my anger, and that mixed up with funny mental health issues really make my patience change from day to day. if one day i could laugh at something, the next day it could frustrate me right away; sometimes it lasts five minutes, sometimes all day :^) ]

20. Wild card: The mun discusses any situation/problem they want. asked by @kotoyin & @turnecoat

[ if i see the height discourse again one more time i will start biting people ]

#❌|| ʏᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ɢɪᴏ 💀 ooc ||❌

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fandomlovingfreak · 3 years ago

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Glacial Passion (2/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: Suggestive Content, but no lemon

Word Count: 1809

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: So I am a liar, and this will be longer than 3 chapters probably:) I kept writing chapter 2 and it ended up being more like 6000 words, so I’m splitting it up baby

Enjoy

Pulled from sleep abruptly, I sit up, disoriented in the unfamiliar bedroom. Glancing around as the memories of last night come flooding in. This bed, now empty , belongs to my husband. Noticing said husband's absence, I rest my hand where I last saw him, noting that the sheets are cool to the touch. I glance towards the two doors leading to the closet and bathroom. Something deep inside me hopes that Regulus would pop out of either of the doors.

Maybe he went to get something--

No. It's absurd to let myself believe that Regulus simply stepped out of the room for a moment. My foolish heart wants to believe he didn't, but I'm all too aware that Regulus abandoned me in our bed the morning after our wedding.

Why I assumed having sex with him would magically make him love me, I don't know. It was ridiculous, a miscalculation , an expectation that I had been holding onto consciously or not.

I laugh bitterly to myself. How stupid can I be?

How stupid.

***

I assume running into me in the library of the house was an unpleasant accident on his part, partly from the stuttering pause when he walked through the doors and partly from the icy look he gave me.

How someone can look at another with such-- coldness , especially someone you could at best call a stranger, is unfathomable to me. I look back down at the book that I've spent my day entertaining myself with to shield myself from his frigid eyes.

It's helped pass the time to an extent, the time I should have been with him doing whatever newlyweds do on their first day of marriage.

At first, I had wandered the halls aimlessly debating with myself if breakfast with his parents, alone, would be too unbearable. It was a perfectly tragic breakfast, with Walburga asking me an array of pointless questions that had little to do with getting to know her new daughter-in-law.

Worst of all, she had been relentless in her demanding way about the importance of an heir, as if I were supposed to pop one out after one night. I had to admit, the idea of exposing her son and his use of contraceptive charms had been a delicious idea at the moment. In the end, though, I chose civility with my charming husband, even as the spite I felt for him in the current time had nearly pushed me towards the edge in these conversations.

I had wandered into the library after escaping my in-laws, and I hadn't left since then. The novel chosen to occupy my time had been working to make me forget that I was beyond annoyed with Regulus and my situation... but then he walked in and ruined what little sanity I had collected in the past hours.

Regulus still stands in the door frame, looking as if he may turn around and walk away before engaging me in any conversation or even a simple hello. If this son-of-a-bitch turns around and pretends he didn't see me, I swear I will make myself a widow.

"(y/n)."

My shoulders tense, "Regulus."

He doesn't respond for a second before asking, "Have you had a nice day?"

Un-fucking-believable , "No."

Not even married a full twenty-four hours, and he left me alone to fend for myself in this creaky, horrible old house with only his parents and a house-elf for company, and he dares to ask me if I've had a nice day?

If I hadn't just had one of the most soul-draining days of my life, I would've laughed at the look on his face. He doesn't quite know what to do with my firm 'no'. Naturally, I am not happy, and I will not hide my unhappiness from my dear husband.

"What is the matter? Did you--"

"You ran off to Merlin-knows-where, leaving me alone in this house. I did not have a good day, thank you for asking." I go back to the book I was reading. I had been enjoying this moment of reprieve from the anger I was feeling, but now that he's returned, I can barely focus on the little black words.

"Mother and father were here--"

"I don't find their company appealing," I spit back. How dare he not even explain himself. And suggest such a-- repulsive alternative . His parents? He really wanted me to spend my first day as his wife with his parents?

"I assumed you would want to get to know your family."

"You didn't suppose I would want to get to know my husband?" I can't help but bite back. His calm tone further aggravates me.

"You should know your family."

"They are not my family."

I peek over my book to see his face. Confusion and a tinge of annoyance lace his features.

"They are your family."

" No , they are not."

He lets a frown crease his forehead for a moment before he goes back to his mask of passivity. "You are my wife."

"That is true." My jaw clenches uncomfortably. What was his point?

"Then you are family, which makes my family yours ."

I shake my head, "no, it does not. "

Regulus looks frustrated, "When we have children. Then you will consider my family as yours?"

"No."

"No? How can you say no to a fact? A child of ours will be related to my family as well as yours and bear the Black name."

"That is all true, but it does not make us family."

Regulus has the decency to look shocked at my words, "I am your husband. Of course, we are family. With a child, that's even more so."

"Our marriage is a glorified contract at best. You do not love me, and I do not love you. You don't even try to love me. You made it fairly clear today that you don't intend on trying. Yes, any child born between us would be my family, but that does not make us family. Family implies some bond of familial familiarity. I don't know you, and at this rate, I don't see myself ever knowing you." I keep eye contact as I lay out our situation to my husband. Husband didn't even feel like it should apply to him. The warmth the word could have brought to me has been extinguished by Regulus's lack of emotion. Lack of-- everything.

Regulus stares back.

"I can't love you."

His words pierce any anger I felt. I knew that this morning. Knew it as the hours passed by today, and I still heard nothing from him. I feel the lump of sorrow firm in my throat, and before I can stop myself, I whisper, "but why?" The weakness I let seep into the words disgusts me. I can't afford to be weak in this marriage.

His icy eyes stare into my watery ones. Stupid tears.

"It's not who I am."

Rage fills where the sorrow sat a moment ago. "I have been damned to an eternity of misfortune. I don't understand what I did to deserve this."

Refusing to show this vulnerability, I practically run from the room.

I walk past the doors to the other bedrooms of Grimmauld place, finding mine— ours . Collapsing on the bed, I let myself tear up completely.

I hate it here, and I can't think of any way to get out of it. Nothing can fix this— this mistake of a marriage.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I look up at the heavy canopy. I don't know how I'll survive this marriage; at least my sanity won't survive. How anyone can live in this dreary home is beyond me.

***

Regulus paces the room, not expecting an argument from her. (y/n) had been so... docile the entire night they spent together. Nothing could've prepared for him to hear her frustrated words or her claim that she possibly wanted anything from him.

And her quiet "but why"... he nearly lost his cool at the broken sound of (y/n)'s voice. He hadn't expected her to be so… emotional.

Despite their marriage being arranged, his wife clearly came in with the hope she could grow to love him. And she seemed to hope that he could love her as well.

If he had any idea how to be in love, he would try for her. But… it's complicated. Even with the bonding spell between couples like them, he doubts he can act as she wishes.

Maybe he could act it , but that's not fair to (y/n).

Regulus knew that it would be much crueler to pretend to love her when he truly did not.

***

(y/n) doesn't accompany him to dinner. Walburga and Orion don't comment, but he can tell that they are curious to know why their daughter-in-law wasn't present.

When he makes his way to their room, he isn't surprised that she doesn't turn around to greet him.

For a moment, he watches her as she sits at her vanity. She is a rather pretty girl, he muses. He supposes he should be appreciative to have such a beautiful wife. But, unfortunately, not many men in these marriages could say they were attracted to their wives.

He's about to approach her when she speaks.

"I want a child."

Regulus's mouth goes dry, " You do ?"

(Y/n) turns around in her vanity chair, "I do."

"Where-- did this come from?"

"Is this not why we married?"

Regulus crosses his arms across his chest, "that's beside the point."

"It's not! This is why marriages like ours take place!" She gets up close and personal to him, "that's why your parents chose me for you. So I would have your children and continue your line ."

He doesn't argue with her because she isn't wrong.

"We don't need a child now."

She laughs bitterly, "You'll deny me this as well?"

"I'm not— denying you anything."

"You have no right to say no to me, Regulus Black."

"We've been married for less than a week."

"The sooner, the better." She echoes his own words.

Regulus sighs, running a hand through his hair. This is the last conversation he wants to have at 10 P.M.

"We are not having a child right now. That's final."

She gets back up in his face, "We will see about that." (y/n) moves around him towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm sleeping elsewhere." He almost snorts at the irony of her leaving the room when she's all but declared she could seduce him into giving her the child she wants.

Instead, he grabs her arm before she can leave, "you stay here. I'll leave."

"I am perfectly capable of sleeping in a different room."

"Stay here," he gives her a serious look.

(Y/n) looks away from him, pulling her arm free, "fine."

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ticklyfluffers · 3 years ago

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Sensitive Seeker-TF TK Fic

Repost of fan fiction of mine.

To think, it all started with just a simple gesture.

Thundercracker mused in how he had gotten to the scene he stood in now: Starscream shooting off blast after blast at Skywarp, yet the purple and black Seeker just treated the entire thing as some sort of game.

And, perhaps in some weird way, it was a game. As “‘playful” as a “self-respecting” Decepticon could be, he supposed. Yet still, he’d known he would need to separate the two (as always) eventually. Yet when to jump in was the question, as he was in no mood to have a shot of raw, stinging energy or a null ray being delivered to his facial region, should he intervene at the wrong time.

‘How did I get here, dealing with this?’ He questioned, inwardly groaning. It was a useless question, having already known the answer.

It had begun but a few short Earth minutes ago, at least, it had for him and Skywarp, yet for their Commander, it had begun but a few solar cycles ago (at least that measurement of time was fairly close to those used in this planet). Once again, Starscream noticed a, in his own words, “massive flaw” in one of Megatron’s bids to acquire more energy, and thus, just HAD to point it out and make sure everyone around him could hear it. This then led into the regular bickering, which led to the Seeker (once again) proclaiming he’d make a more suitable leader for the Decepticons, which led to Megatron “reminding” him of his place (once again), which resulted in a trip to the infirmary (once again).

And, while Thundercracker felt Starscream deserved to be told to keep his mouth shut, the blue Seeker found himself dreading what Megatron had planned for the Air Commander, as while it was Starscream’s punishment, somehow, in some way, it would affect his wingmates. Once again. Thankfully, it wasn’t overly extreme, mainly because Megatron had two locations of interest in mind, and probably declared that more worthy of his time than looking over his shoulder for his 2nd in Command’s potential assassination attempts. The Decepticon Leader had assigned Starscream and his wingmates to keep watch over the Space Bridge until the operation to seize control over the locations was completed or disregarded.

“And knowing our ‘glorious leader’, he’ll probably fail at this plan too.” Starscream grumbled to himself, arms folded over his chassis.

Thundercracker only sighed. Ever since he had come here, slag, back when was alerted of his duties, the Seeker had done nothing but complain over his leader’s orders. Of course, with a little “encouragement” from Soundwave (as in, alert Starscream he would be relieved of his wings for a good while if he didn’t do as he was told), their Air Commander (begrudgingly) accepted the assignment. Of course, now that they were here, Starscream had seen it as the perfect time to go ahead and start his tirade against Megatron again.

And suffice to say, it was beginning to get on his trine-mate’s nerves.

“Guard duty,” Starscream growled. “Of ALL the humiliating tasks he could’ve thrust on me...guard duty?!”

Skywarp began to shake, fists trembling until finally, he had finally reached his breaking point. “Is it possible for you to shut the frag up for at least a FEW cycles?! Is that too hard to ask?!”

Thundercracker was quite taken aback by the violet Seeker’s outburst. If anyone was being told to shut up, it was usually him. ‘Primus, he must be REALLY mad.’

“I’ll say whatever is slagging well please, thank you very much!” Starscream retorted, clenching his fists.

“Well go off and do it somewhere else away from me!” Skywarp argued back. “I’m getting sick of hearing that shrill dog whistle of a voice you’ve got!”

“Then get used to it, because I have no intention of stopping until I’m done!”

While he had no appreciation, let alone any sense of respect for it, since their arrival to this primitive world, some Decepticons had taken to using Earth expressions and terms in comparison to some more traditional, archaic language. The Casseticons were the worst out of these bots, outright using terms such as ‘dude’ and ‘man’, as well as copying much human cursing (a good portion of which humans based on their own bodily functions, to Thundercracker’s confusion). Skywarp, whether he had just decided that their regular curses weren’t enough, or he had been hanging out with Rumble and Frenzy on one too many assignments, decided to unleash everything that had been, as humans say, getting under his skin.

“Oh boo-hoo! You think YOU’RE the only one that doesn’t want to be here?!” the Seeker shouted, approaching Starscream. “This entire damn thing is your fault anyhow! You just HAD to go and run your mouth about how much Megatron’s plans suck and how YOU obviously had the better idea!”

“Because I do!” the Seeker Commander countered. “He wished to attack both locations at the same time, yet didn’t wish to better separate his forces into equal groups! Even if one was easier to access than the other, did he not think those blasted Autobots would just LET themselves be overtaken?!” he fumed, releasing a frustrated cry. “Bah! He had NO good reason to NOT send the Constructicons! There would’ve been no way that any of those slagging Auto-dorks would’ve stood a chance against Devastator! But NOOOOO! Apparently, they were needed elsewhere!”

“Because there was a crack in the hull,” Thundercracker interjected himself. True, he had little intention of getting involved, yet Starscream was forgetting one vital factor in Megatron’s decision. “The lower sections would’ve been at risk of getting worse and potentially breaking open. Then the entire Nemesis would’ve been flooded.”

“The pressure at the depths the ship’s at is far from enough to cause a breakage in such short a time!” Starscream argued. “We are situated in what the under evolved primates of this floating rock called the mesopelagic zone. True, we are away from the primary star of this current solar system, yet a majority of sea life in that area are perfectly capable of withstanding the water pressure. And they’re also organic, mind you!”

Skywarp scoffed. “You saying all that fancy mumbo-jumbo to make yourself sound smarter or something?”

“Hey, I WAS an accomplished scientist back in the Golden Era of Cybertron!”

“Of which you quit!” the purple and black Seeker countered. “And accomplished? That’s a fat load of shit, and you know it! I bet you only got a passing grade on whatever research logs you presented to those old farts running the academy!”

“Why you slagging piece of-”

“All right, both of you! That’s enough!” Thundercracker had decided that now was the time to step in, lest things start getting violent. Violence was an accepted part of Decepticon culture, seeing as many of their members had been forced to engage in it just to scrape by and survive via gladiatorial matches and other low ranking jobs (which didn’t house the most respectable of bots), yet the blue and black Seeker wasn’t in the mood in having to bring both of his wingmates into the infirmary because they decided to behave like a couple of Sparklings and duke it out.

That’s when the discovery had been made.

Thundercracker had pushed back against Skywarp’s chassis, yet he must’ve misjudged the distance between him and his oh-so-mature Commander (seriously, and he said Skywarp was the one who behaved like a sparkling). His servos made contact with the red and blue Seeker’s waistline, and that was when he and Skywarp heard it. It was a cross between a frightened gasp and an attempt to choke back laughter. Any anger between them had died that instant, replaced with curiosity and bewilderment. Their Commanding Officer was looking quite frazzled and on edge.

“Whoa, time out for a nano-second,” Skywarp said, lightly shoving Thundercracker off him. Nevertheless, he turned to him for confirmation. “You hear that too?” He then turned his attention to Starscream. “Hey, Screamer, what was that noise you made just now? And don’t say it’s nothing, I’ve got a witness right here!” Skywarp gestured to Thundercracker.

Starscream paled (even if there was no change of color) and stood there with wide, red optics. Nonetheless, he quickly straightened himself out and appeared to be cool and collected. “I was merely taken aback by Thundercracker’s sudden movements was all.” He explained, all the while trying to choose his next words very carefully. “You should be grateful he stepped in, lest I fire my null ray right in your face.” He glowered at the black and purple Seeker, hoping that his display would get his subordinate to back down.

But, as the humans said, no dice.

“Uh, correct me if I’m wrong-“ Skywarp began, taking a few steps toward, noticing how Starscream took a few steps back.

“And you are.” Starscream interrupted.

“But you seem a little nervous there.” The Seeker’s grinned. “All I’m asking is why you made that noise.”

Slag, Starscream thought. He wasn’t buying it. Ok, don’t panic. Just come up with another excuse. One that he surely couldn’t refute. “Well...it seems that my inner components are still a little sore from my last...disagreement with our all-wise and all-powerful leader.” He snarled that last part. Even if he were trying to get Skywarp off his back, it wasn’t all a lie. Hook had told him to take it slow for a few solar cycles for his internal repairs to mend the rest of him back together.

“Oh dear, are you ok?” Skywarp asked, an uncomfortable amount of mischievousness in his voice.

Slag. “Yes, I’m fine,” Starscream assured. “But...you shouldn’t touch me. In fact, I outright forbid it.”

Thundercracker analyzed the situation, looking back and forth between Skywarp and Starscream. He was puzzled at first regarding what had happened when he separated the two, yet given one Seeker’s predatory grin and the other’s excuses, it slowly dawned on him what was going on, as well as what Skywarp intended to do.

“Why?” He asked, taking a step towards Starscream while Starscream himself took a few steps back. “You took quite a bruising not too long ago. Maybe something is out of place or broken.”

“No! No, nothing is out of place or broken!” The SIC shook his head wildly.

“Are you sure? Because last time, you said Hook was a piss poor excuse for a medic.” Skywarp chuckled, raising his hands and spreading his servos out.

“Well, I think maybe he’s improved his craft these last few human weeks!” Starscream said, beginning to look around for any escape routes. “But...just in case, you shouldn’t touch anything! You could only make it worse!”

It was then that a familiar, magenta hue began to overtake the purple Seeker, Starscream’s optics widening in horror. “Why Starscream, I’m hurt! Do you think I’d actually hurt you?” He said coyly, optics fittingly red and devilish. “You’re my Commander, my trine-mate. It’s mine and Cracker’s job here to tend to your needs.”

Thundercracker gave a low growl, Skywarp knowing well how he hated being referred to by that name. Despite that though, he kept quiet.

“C’mon,” Skywarp cooed. Then, the magenta hue overtook his entire form, and in a flash, the Seeker was gone from sight.

“N-No! Stay away from me-“ Starscream shouted, yet was cut off when he felt digits traveling along his waistline.

“No need to be so tense.”

The reaction was immediate. Skywarp’s servos lightly stroked and scratched at the other Seeker’s ivory midsection, Starscream seizing up and doubling over, trying to get his “comrade” to release him.

“N-No! Stop it!” Starscream hollered, trying to grab at Skywarp’s hands. “I command you to-“ then out it came. “St-Sto-hoho-p!” A chortle caught in the middle of a demand (or was it a plea) to cease the infernal movements. Starscream had managed to wrench himself away from his assailant, but the damage was already done.

His terrible secret had been uncovered.

“No. Way.” Skywarp said. True, he suspected it, but to actually have confirmed blew his processor. “No. Fragging. Way!!!” He then pointed to his superior. “You’re ticklish!!!”

Now it was Thundercracker’s turn to be surprised, he looked at Starscream with bewilderment and shock. While it wasn’t a topic relatively discussed among themselves, he and the rest of the Decepticons would be fools if they didn’t acknowledge that their “hosts' ' shared more than a few qualities with the ones that had crashed landed on their planet millions of years ago. They were the only species to have similar civilizations to their own, same general body shape, they had an internal, skeletal structure that greatly resembled their own, lived as the dominant species on the planet (well, they were until the Decepticons and Autobots awoke), and fought and warred amongst themselves over the centuries. Yet when it came to the way their organic structure was put together, no one had an exact idea of how the human body functioned. Soundwave suggested gathering a few “lab rats'' and transporting them to Shockwave, yet so far, nothing else had come from that suggestion. Good thing too, Thundercracker felt such a thing was both unnecessary and, while he would never say it aloud, savage. But from what he had seen from Skywarp’s experiment, it seemed that they now were the ones to share the trait of ticklishness with the humans.

Starscream stood there, completely at a loss at what to say or do, processor scrambling to try and find something, anything, to keep the inevitable from happening. “I-I am not-AH!!!” He protested, only for Skywarp to teleport behind him and deliver a servo right in the crease where his hips met his waist. “Stop it!!!” He then aimed the weapon situated on his left shoulder in the other Seeker’s direction. “Try that again, and this null ray is going to blast you right in the face!”

Skywarp wasn’t the least bit intimidated. In fact, this just seemed to make him even more eager to go through with his plan. ”Primus, you’re acting like I’m going to kill you!”

“I’ll kill YOU if you get any closer! I mean it!” Starscream shouted, still aimed right at Skywarp’s head.

“Fine. Do it.” Skywarp laughed. “In fact, I doubt you’d be fast enough to hit me before I just warp out of the way.” He drew closer. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Thundercracker stood by, ready to jump in if things got too ugly. Starscream was cornered, he knew it, yet he seemed to be leaning much more into flight than fight. He looked to the blue Seeker as if trying to gain some support (or maybe a shield to use in case Skywarp made the first move), yet his optics mainly stayed on the third Seeker, trying to gauge what the next plan in his strategy was.

And it was then that Starscream made a critical decision. Frag it.

Immediately taking flight, Starscream transformed into his jet mode and zoomed off, leaving a long, cloudy trail as he departed.

“Oh no!” Skywarp declared, also transforming and chasing after his superior. “You’re not getting away that easily!”

“The slag do you think you’re going?! Get back here!!!” Thundercracker bellowed, yet either Skywarp didn’t hear or just outright disregarded his command, because he and Starscream flew off, leaving him alone.

Why did he always have to be the one to reign those two in?

…

“Aw, c’mon! I’ll go easy on you if that’ll get you to slow down!”

“NO!!!”

“I’m not going to hurt ya!”

“That makes it worse!!!”

“Don’t be such a baby!”

“Frag you!!!”

Back and forth the two Seekers went, Skywarp going back between promising to be ‘gentle’ with his Commander to outright declaring that resistance was futile, and Starscream shot back with threats of murder and dismemberment. All of which didn’t deter Skywarp a bit.

Seeing that the other jet was gaining on him, the Decepticon SIC went as fast as he could to where he was certain he would blow out his thrusters, yet he had to veer over to the side when Skywarp appeared before him via teleportation. He dove upwards, yet found his route blocked by the purple and black Seeker cutting him off via a barrel roll. Starscream went in the opposite direction, yet found himself cut off there as well, Skywarp just barely colliding into him.

“Hey, watch it!!!” he hollered. “You could’ve clipped my vertical stabilizer!!!”

“Then stop flying off and I won’t have to get drastic!” Skywarp shot back, yet inside his alt-mode, he was grinning ear to ear. Or at least he would be if he had any. “Try all you want, I’m not letting up anytime soon!”

“Then you’re going to be doing this for a long time because I have no intention of stop-” Starscream was interrupted by the horrific sight of Skywarp’s body being engulfed with magenta before disappearing from sight.

Oh, Primus. Oh Primus, no! Transforming into his root mode, Starscream looked around, panicking as he found himself surrounded by clear, blue skies, the sun shining high and bright. The intensity of the solar rays blinded him momentarily when he turned in that direction to look for any trace of his pursuer, yet this proved to be a fatal mistake. From beneath, the Seeker was rammed, his subordinate having decided to stay out of his line of sight long enough, and by the time Starscream realized his error, it was too late.

“Aha!!!”Skywarp seized him by the waist and immediately went to work. His servos went in and scrambled along the area he had attacked before, Starscream immediately seizing up and trying to contain the chortles that threatened to spill out of his vocals.

“S-Stop it!!!” Starscream shouted, twisting as much as he could to dislodge himself from the other jet’s hold, yet it seemed that whenever he made a movement, Skywarp just focused on another part of his midsection, the continuous switching of locations making Starscream’s processor be torn between staying still or continuing to writhe around. It was all so confusing and torturous! He was at a loss at what to do! “Stop!!! I-I comma-ha-nd you!!!”

“Hmm...nah.” Skywarp responded, continuing to scramble over the bends and angles of Commander’s midsection.

“I-I’ll kill you!!! Do you hear!? I’ll kill-” Starscream’s voice, unfortunately, chose that time to not cooperate with him. “G-Gah! N-No-hohoho!!! STOP!!!”

“Ah, there you go!” Skywarp congratulated. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Get off!!!” Starscream practically shrieked, both from frustration (and panic), yet also from the sensations that were plaguing his cerebral chamber, sensors lit a fire with horrid tingles and shocks. He only wished that they were of pain. “I-I can’t-'' he then nearly fell out of Skywarp’s arms before he was, unfortunately, caught, the torment continuing. “I can’t stay alo-ha-ft!!!”

“No problem!” Skywarp said, shutting off his thrusters. The two Seekers then began to plummet downwards.

“What in Primus’ name are you doing?! We’ll cra-ah-sh!!!” Starscream hollered, all the while trying to contain himself as Skywarp’s servos still continued to torment him.

As the ground continued to come closer and closer, Starscream braced himself for impact, yet found that it never came, magenta filling his vision before everything around him froze. He wasn’t a stranger to this phenomenon, yet it still perplexed and bewildered him that such an impulsive oaf had such an ability bestowed on him. The times were far and in between, yet whenever it happened, Starscream had gone into the strange dimension between planes of existence with Skywarp when the Seeker teleported both of them. The world looked the same as it had before, yet everything was still and silent. No movement, no sound, nothing. Nothing but their own, as if they were the only things that existed in this small pocket universe.

Then, as quickly as it began, it ended, both Seekers landing on the ground, yet far from at the velocity they were previously traveling at. The landing didn’t mean that Starscream was free, however, the lack of the need to look out below allowed Skywarp to fully focus now on the movements of his servos, which quickly went back to work.

“Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!!!” Starscream commanded, yet he was quickly shut up as giggles threatened to pour out from his vocal processor. He then lifted up his arm in an attempt to, out of desperation, fire his null ray in the other Seeker’s direction, this proved to be yet another fatal error.

Once Skywarp shot his hand underneath to scrape at the cables and joint that linked Starscream’s shoulder and upper arm, he could hold it in no longer.

“Gah!!! Gah-hahahahaha!!!” Starscream released loud and slightly hoarse laughter from his vocals, using his other arm to push back against the other Seeker tickling at his underarm. “S-Stop!!! Stop it!! Sto-hahahaha-p!!!”

“Ha! Gotcha!” Skywarp shouted in triumph, spidering along the red area that rested above his white waist just below the arm joint, this forcing Starscream to retreat into himself and cease his attempts in getting the purple and black Seeker off him. “You’ve got no chance now! Surrender!”

“Hahaha, n-never!!!” Starscream shouted back, trying to turn the opposite way to keep Skywarp away from his side. “Ge-hehehe-t off!!! Get-ah!!!” Skywarp swiped a digit just underneath the area where Starscream’s chest protruded outwards, running the servo along the rim. “Don’t touch me there-AHH!!!”

Skywarp smirked. “Why? Does it tickle?~” he asked oh-so-sweetly. “So you admit you’re ticklish.”

“I admit nothing!!!” Starscream choked in between bouts of involuntary laughter. “I’m not tick-“ he tried to finish but was cut off by more chortles forcing themselves out.

“Then what do you call this? Just a WEE bit of sensitivity?” The purple and black Seeker asked. He stroked and pinched along the SIC’s upper chest region, dipping his hands in the small, square-shaped hollows that rested by his white shoulders, this causing said SIC to try and make another grab at his hands to stop the attack. Unfortunately, Skywarp used this opportunity to dive in under Starscream’s arms and begin scribbling at the joints and cables and whatever other components he could reach. Starscream howled with laughter the moment he felt the wildly moving digits, his arms hugging around himself and clamping themselves down.”Oh great, I’m stuck. Now, what are you gonna do?”

“Wh-Wha-hahaha-t?! You ge-hehe-t them out!!!”

“Can’t exactly do that with you holding my hands down, can I?” Skywarp asked, not letting up in the slightest. “Lift your arms up and I can get free.”

“N-No!!! You’re just gonna-hahaha!!! STOP!!!”

“Hmm...nope.”

Starscream was in, as the humans would say, stitches, his body torn between twisting around and curling up into a ball in a vain attempt to lessen the sensations plaguing him. He knew well that Skywarp would go for the same areas and perhaps others if he lifted up his arms, yet, as he found out, the seams of his underarms were deathly sensitive. It was the equivalent of either having Megatron rip off his limbs versus his fusion cannon blasting him right in the chest. Neither of them was exactly pleasant options. And he didn’t care if he would be called dramatic for making such a comparison! This was torture! He needed this to stop! He HAD to make it stop!

Yet he wouldn’t beg. Not to Skywarp of all mechs. That fool would never get the satisfaction of hearing him grovel for mercy!

And speaking of members of his trine, where in Primus’ name was Thundercracker?! Useless piece of scrap-

“All right, that’s enough!” a voice called out from high above, a blue jet zooming down and transforming, landing a short distance away from his fellow wingmate and Commander. “C’mon, Skywarp, you’re going to kill him.”

“Am not!” Skywarp protested. “I’m just trying to lighten Screamer’s mood here! And from what I’ve seen, my method’s working!

Starscream tried to protest, yet had taken to tightening his lips as much as he could, strained whines coming from in between gritted, grinding dentals. Still, he managed to make out some words (though it was NOT a plea!). “G-Get him off!!! GET HIM OFF!!!”

Thundercracker sighed, crossing his arms. “You heard him. Get off.”

“Aww, do I have to?” Skywarp whined.

“Unless you want a report regarding your insubordination, I’d suggest you do so.”

The purple and black Seeker huffed and begrudgingly stopped moving his hands, Starscream immediately seizing the chance to scramble away, standing up and dusting himself off. Skywarp began to rise as well, yet Starscream pointed one of his cannons in his direction, eyeing his every movement.

“He isn’t going to bother you anymore.” Thundercracker assured.

“I should blast you in the face JUST for what you put me through alone!!!” the Decepticon SIC snarled.

“Hey, I was just trying to get something out of you that wasn’t complaining!” Skywarp countered. “You think you’re the only one that wants to be here on guard duty?”

“I’d much rather be in the company of Megatron at the moment rather than you two!!!”

“Hey, c’mon, that’s enough.” Thundercracker began, trying to cool things down, yet his Commander wasn’t having it.

“I’ve done nothing wrong to even be here!!! I was made Second in Command by Megatron himself!!! And, like it or not, that means I have the full right to question and propose any sort of adjustment or improvement to whatever backward, ridiculous, and foolhardy mission he’s got in mind!!!” Starscream shouted, clenching his blue fists. “And if that’s not enough, he had to stick me with YOU TWO of all bots!!!”

“Hey, c’mon!” Skywarp shot back. “We’re the only ones that can fly besides those damn cone-heads! And Primus knows they won’t put up with your bullshit.”

“I’ve had it up to here with yours!!!” Starscream retorted. “I don’t know why I even continue to allow myself to work with you two!!!” he then pointed to Skywarp. “You are an immature, idiotic thug that has been graced with a power that you clearly do not deserve!!!” he then pointed to Thundercracker. “And you…” Starscream paused. “You...you...well...you didn’t get here fast enough!!! I was under attack by one of my own wingmates, and here you were, lollygagging and taking your sweet time!!!”

Thundercracker was somewhat taken aback. True, this was typical of Starscream, ranting and raving about all the unfairness of the world and how he was slighted by whomever he decided had insulted him, yet the blue Seeker felt a twinge of anger flare up in his spark. “I was TRYING to keep back to make sure you wouldn’t clip a wing or something. You were behaving quite...erratically.”

“That’s no excuse!!!” Starscream countered. “I am your superior, and thus, am your utmost concern!!!”

“I was-”

“No, I’m not done!!!” the other Seeker interrupted. “You know what? You’re just as useless as Skywarp here!!! Only you’ve got no discernable skills or anything spectacular in your arsenal. I lack Skywarp’s little ‘talent’, but I come packed with null rays that can disable and render any machine, Earth or Cybertronian, useless. But you? What, the typical blaster? And such an outdated model too!!! Perhaps even one of the cone-heads would be better suited to be here in comparison to-”

Starscream got out no more before he found himself tackled to the ground. Thundercracker was on top of him and, at a blinding speed, as if in response to the SIC’s remarks regarding his skill and prowess.

“What do you think you’re-” Starscream shouted, yet soon felt his shoulder cannons being removed from his arms. “H-Hey!!! Put those back!!!”

Thundercracker didn’t answer him, continuing his work until his Commander was relieved of his weapons. Then, the blue Seeker delivered a blow to Starscream’s face when the other Decepticon tried to rise. He was disoriented long enough for him to be seized from behind, Thundercracker having ducked his arms underneath Starscream’s own and lifted them up, holding them together with one hand clasping around his wrists, effectively keeping the SIC in place.

“Skywarp,” the blue Seeker began, voice low and emotionless, yet the other members of the trine knew well what such a tone meant when it came to Thundercracker. “He’s all yours.”

Skywarp beamed and made a motion of ‘cracking’ his knuckles (even if he had none). The grin on his face filled Starscream with the utmost dread and fear. “Y-You can’t do this!!!” he protested. “I’m your superior!!!”

“Yes,” Thundercracker responded. “A superior asshole.”

“A superior asshole that’s been getting on my and Cracker’s nerves,” Skywarp said, grinning. Thundercracker despised the nickname the other Seeker had given him, yet at the moment, what was at the forefront of his mind was his Commander’s “disciplinary” session. “And since we’re both done hearing you bitch and moan,” Skywarp raised his servos up, wiggling and making clawing motions with them. “We’re gonna hear you laugh it up instead!”

And then, he went in and continued where he had left off.

Starscream had no chance to brace himself, his focus torn between trying to get Thundercracker off of him and Skywarp’s advances. The purple and black Seeker dove down and traced his servo-tips all over the red and blue Seeker’s chassis, running along the curves and bends, dipping his digits in the vents situated on his chest, and down the midsection where his cockpit was located.

“N-No!!! No-hahahahaha!!! St-Sto-hahaha-p!!! Stop!!! I or-hoho-der you to STOP!!!”

“Not happening.” Skywarp responded, now skittering along the white waist.

“You-hoohoo dare defy an or-hoho-der from your Comma-hahaha-nder!?!”

“If said Commander is being a little bitch, then yes.”

“Th-This is ahahaha-assult on a supe-hehhehe-rior officer!!!”

“Fine then. Stop me.”

Starscream didn’t answer that, knowing well that, despite himself, he was effectively rendered helpless. Thundercracker wasn’t letting him go any time soon, and Skywarp was more than content to keep tickling the ever-living shit out of his Commander. He was completely at their mercy. But he would not surrender. He couldn’t! Not to them! They wouldn’t get one word out of him that was begging for mercy!

At least, that’s what he tried to keep in mind, all the while fighting against said pleas that were forming in his processor.

Skywarp continued to let his servos dance all over Starscream’s upper half, Thundercracker keeping him immobile. The other Seeker’s added weight made struggling difficult and sometimes near impossible, and the maddening sensations made his futile attempts to escape no better. Skywarp had gone for the SIC’s underarms, Starscream’s laughter raising in volume and his struggles increasing, yet Thundercracker held him firm. Skywarp spidered down Starscream’s sides and chest, even tackling the red sections that stood upward on his shoulders. The red and blue Seeker howled with laughter, Thundercracker keeping up his efforts to hold him tight. Despite his current predicament, Starscream could at least take comfort in that the three were clearly alone out here. The only downside to that was that it was Skywarp of all bots doing the torturing! That mech left no inch of his upper body untouched, making sure to give each and every portion of it equal attention. Odd that he would be so precise given how impatient and foolhardy he was.

Having decided that he had explored all he could in that area, the purple and black Seeker shifted his attention to Starscream’s hips, dragging servos along where it connected to his waist and squeezing the sides. The Decepticon SIC continued to release mad cackles from his vocal processor, Skywarp’s servos traveling down to his inner thighs, teasing the joints and cables he could reach. The purple and black Seeker went down the other jet’s legs and reached his knees, swiping servos behind the blocky sections that essentially served as ‘kneecaps’. He even dipped his digits in the vents that rested there.

Starscream was being driven mad, his frantic struggles weakening, though whether it was due to him losing strength or some part of him simply accepting his fate, he was unsure. Regardless, he was reaching his limit and frankly, beginning to lose his mind. “W-Wait!!!” the Seeker got out. “O-hoho-k!!! OK!!! You-hoohoo-’ve had your fun!!! Stop!!!”

“Not yet,” Skywarp said. “I’ve still got a little more of you to tend to.” he then turned to the blue Seeker. “Hold him tight. I gotta feeling this is going to send him over the edge.”

“What do you mean…” Starscream asked, yet trailed off when he saw Skywarp secure his ankles, the undersides of his peds and thrusters completely exposed. Oh no. Oh Primus, no! “W-Wait!!! WAIT!!!” Skywarp and Thundercracker were quite shocked at how loud their captive had gotten, both looking at him with wide, red optics.

Skywarp then smirked. “Oh my,” he glanced at one ped he had in his grasp. “This a particularly sensitive area?” as if to demonstrate, he ran one servo down the length of the side of it, Starscream trembling and straining to keep noises from exiting his throat. “Oh hot damn!” the purple and black Seeker looked to his comrade. “Look at this Cracker! Screamer here’s got sensitive tootsies!”

Tootsies? Was that a human word? Well, whatever. Thundercracker had to strengthen his hold on Starscream, the other Seeker growing even more erratic than before.

“Not there!!!” Starscream finally threw all pride and dignity aside and went to one of his desperate fail-safes: begging. “Please, not there!!! Anywhere but there!!!”

“Why?” Skywarp coyly asked. “Does it tiiiickle~?”

“All right fine!!! Fine, I admit it!!! I’m ticklish, ok!?! There, I said it!!!”

Skywarp stopped his teasing, yet still held Starscream’s ped in his hold. “And?”

“And…” the SIC couldn’t believe he was doing this. Megatron was one thing, but these two? He would NEVER live this down. “And…” he felt a servo place itself on the underside of the ped. “And I’m sorry!!! I’m sorry for everything I said!!! You’re not useless or idiots!!!” Starscream sighed, having gained both of the other jet’s attention. “It’s just...it’s just so frustrating.” He said, lessening his struggles. “Your position means nothing, and whatever contribution you have to give is treated little better than the ramblings of a fool. How nothing you could ever say matters…”

Starscream looked away from both of them for a second, his wingmates quite baffled and confused by what they just heard. True, complaining was one of the hallmarks of their Commander’s personality, yet it was quite a rarity to hear him display such raw honesty with them. It wasn’t a completely alien event, the two having heard these supposedly heartfelt (or in their case, sparkfelt) confessions before, but they were far and in between. Yet whenever they happened, despite their probable better judgment, they listened. And Starscream, even if he didn’t say it outright, acknowledged that they were indeed listening. These moments were always awkward and generally uncomfortable for all three of them, the mood not exactly being positive but oddly calm. And neither Skywarp nor Thundercracker could tell whether these were genuine or not. Their Commander was very much what the humans called a social chameleon. Oh sure, he had his distinguishing traits, yet it seemed that whenever he had to play a certain role (aside from a duplicitous usurper), he usually took it and made it his own. He could have solid strategies and plans, he could be deadly in combat and made use of his airborne advantage well, and when, rarely, Megatron’s plans aligned with his own, he would follow it to a tee. But whether all these were just an act to get what he wanted or a rare display of inner, truthful self (even if partway), neither of the Seekers knew. And in a way, Starscream would probably have it no other way.

Skywarp looked at his partner in crime, then to his victim. “You believe him, Cracker?”

Thundercracker was silent for a moment, Starscream looking up at him with wide, pleading optics. “I don’t know. You know Starscream.”

“Oh, you think so little of me, dear Thundercracker?” The SIC asked, seemingly hurt. “I merely let my own grievances with Megatron affect my sense of professionalism.”

“And?” Skywarp asked. “You sorry for being the King of the Assholes today?”

“King of the...what!?” Starscream began to protest, yet the sensation of Skywarp’s servo kept him in his place. “Yes!!! Yes. Yes, I’m sorry. I apologize. I apologize for everything that’s come from my vocal components.”

The purple and black Seeker looked and Thundercracker and nodded his head. “You know what? I believe him. How about you?” Thundercracker remained silent, yet when his hold was loosening, he noticed Skywarp look at him with a coy, calculating smile. “I think Cracker here forgives you too, Screamer.”

Starscream sighed in relief. “Yes, well...I suppose, as the humans say, to err is, well, human. But to forgive is divine.” He tried to get up, but still, found himself being held tight.

“Hold on there! Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Skywarp said. “I said I forgive you.” He then placed a servo on the underside of Starscream’s ped and dragged it down, noticing how his Commander’s face tensed up. “I didn’t say anything about letting you go. And neither did Cracker.”

Starscream’s red optics widened in terror, his fate had not been changed. “But...but you said that you forgave me!!! You have to release me!!!”

“And we will,” Thundercracker spoke up. “But, it would be bad form to leave Skywarp’s job unfinished, right?”

“Was that an actual joke from you?” Skywarp asked, genuinely surprised. It was just as, perhaps even rarer than Starscream’s “honest” moments, yet once in a while, the blue Seeker showed he was capable of humor, albeit mostly dry, but still, humor. “And yeah. I’ve only got one more place to cover. So I’d suggest you buck up and take the rest of it like a mech!”

Shit, Starscream thought, a part of him surprised that he had used a human curse. Still, the sentence had been delivered. He was doomed. “N-No, wait!!! You don’t understand!!! I can’t take it there!!! It’s too much!!! You’ll drive me crazy!!!

“Hmm...those are all rather bold claims. But you shouldn’t have told me that.” Skywarp said, eager to start his tickling torment up again. “Because now I’m going to have to see it for myself!”

And thus, Skywarp wasted no time in getting started, Starscream having no chance to maintain any semblance of self-control the moment he felt a servo quickly swipe itself back and forth on his ped. The reaction was immediate, Starscream having no chance to try and even contain himself. Skywarp traced down the entire length of the ped, the red and blue Seeker released loud and slightly hoarse laughter from his vocals, he desperately trying to twist his way out of Thundercracker’s grip.

“Skwarp!!!” Starscream hollered. “Ple-heeheehee-se!!! STOP!!!”

“Oh no, Mr. General Dickweed!” the Seeker answered back. “Forgiveness or no, you’ve been in dire need of an attitude adjustment all day today!”

“I sa-hahaha-id I was so-hohoho-rry!!!”

“And you lied to us about being ticklish. Shame on you!�� Skywarp teased, continuing to scribble around on the underside of his Commander’s ped.

Starscream was in absolute hysterics, trying with all his remaining power to break free and escape his torment, yet it seemed that his fate was sealed. He was going to have to stay here and endure the continuous, soft, agonizingly light yet maddening sensations Skywarp’s servos created. Eventually, his struggles ceased, no longer having the energy to fight back. Or maybe, somewhere in his processor, he knew that he was fighting a losing battle and simply relented to those that currently had power over him. Skywarp then ceased tickling the peds, yet Starscream had no time to rest. Despite his hopes, pleas, and prayers (he hadn’t really considered himself a religious bot, yet he was singing praises to Primus at that moment in his head), Skywarp had discovered his Commander’s Achilles Heel. Literally.

“PRIMUS, STOP!!!” the SIC shrieked, living up to his name. Out of all the spots that could’ve been at the mercy (or lack thereof) of Skywarp’s servos, he knew well that one would be enough to make him go crazy. “YOU’RE KI-HIHIHIHI-LLING ME!!! I’M DY-HIHIHIHI-ING!!!”

Skywarp scoffed, yet he found this whole thing hilarious, his servos dancing along the lining of and inside Starscream’s thrusters. “Oh please. If anything, this is a spa treatment compared to what you usually get hit with from Megatron.”

“I’D RA-HAHAHAHA-THER TAKE THAT!!! OH PLEASE!!! PLE-HEEHEEHEE-ASE!!! I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE!!!”

Thundercracker glanced down at his captive, taking a look at the Seeker’s ever-present smile he had plastered on his features, yet also of how hot he was beginning to feel how warm he was becoming. His internal systems had steadily been heating up from all the exertion of energy, yet the fact Thundercracker could now feel the heat himself signaled to him that Starscream was truly reaching his breaking point.

“Ok, I think that’s enough.”

Skywarp looked up. “Aw, why?”

“Is your processor malfunctioning? Feel how warm he is!” Hmm, now that he thought about it, Starscream DID feel like he was heating up the further along he went. Still...did he have to? “Skywarp!”

“Ok, ok! Fine!” the purple and black Seeker groaned.

Begrudgingly, he ceased the movement of his servos and raised his hands away from Starscream, who was still caught in the throughs of laughter. Yet after a few moments, said laughter began to soften and decrease, the Seeker resting in Thundercracker’s arms mainly because he couldn’t do much else. Despite there being no need to take in oxygen, Starscream was quite appreciative of its abundance, his vents taking it in and filtering out the heat that had been building up.

“Oh, and here you actually had me...going,” Skywarp said, gesturing to Starscream. “See? He’s fine!” The word ‘concerned’ was about to exit from his lips, yet the Seeker kept them back. Like the Pit he was going to say that. Starscream then glared in Skywarp’s direction. “See? Totally fine. He’s already back to his bitchy self.”

“You…” Starscream huffed, sounding as if he were short of breath despite not needing to breathe. “You think you’re VERY clever, don’t you?”

Skywarp shrugged. “On occasion, I like to think so.”

Starscream only narrowed his optics. “The moment I get my strength back up, your termination will be slow and painful.”

Despite this threat, the Seeker wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. “Yeah right. I stopped believing you after the...what was it, the millionth-and-first time you said that?”

“Well...who’s to say I don’t mean it the millionth-and-second time?” Starscream questioned, beginning to reach for his null rays, yet ultimately, had tired himself out too much to even move from where he was. As the human said, screw it.

“Are you all right?”

The Decepticon SIC looked up at Thundercracker. “Oh, so NOW you care about my wellbeing?”

“I stopped him, didn’t I?” The blue Seeker asked, pointing to Skywarp.

“And you’re also the one that restrained and let him torture me.”

“...touche.” he then began to rise. “Come on. On your feet.” he slowly hoisted his Commander up. “You’re still cooling down, so it’d probably be good to wait for a klik or two before you take to the air.”

Starscream didn’t argue with that, yet he went over to retrieve his arm cannons. Skywarp soon found the Commander’s eyes looking straight at him. Yet still, his cannons didn’t fire, though whether because he was too tired to do anything or he actually didn’t have it in him (at least at the moment), to shoot Skywarp was unknown. Yet the result was the same.

“So...now what?” the purple and black Seeker asked.

“What do you mean, now what?” Thundercracker asked. “We go back to our posts! Slag, we shouldn’t even be out here anyway!”

Starscream dusted himself off, trying to straighten out his appearance. “As soon as this is over, I’m punishing both of you.”

Skywarp mockingly gasped. “Aw, why?”

“Why?! You know slagging good why!!!” Starscream responded. “And by the time I’m done with you, a session with Megatron himself will sound exceptionally pleasant in comparison!!!”

“Oooh, that’s pretty big talk, Screamer.” Skywarp chuckled. “And just how are you going to do it?”

Starscream didn’t exactly care for how close the other Seeker was. “I...I’ll find a way. I’ll find several.”

“Of course, you do realize you’re not the only one with an advantage, you know?” And before Starscream could ask, he felt a poke in his side, the red and blue Seeker recoiling from the touch. “Y’know, I can’t help but wonder how the guys would react to this when I tell them.”

Both Starscream and Thundercracker were taken aback by what Skywarp had just said. “Why would you tell anybody?” Starscream asked.

“Because it’s adorably precious and funny.” The Seeker answered.

“You had better not!!!” Starscream ordered. “Or I’ll make your punishment even worse than Thundercracker’s!!! I’ll…” he then went over and fell at Skywarp’s feet. “Please don’t tell anyone. Please. I’m begging you.”

“Relax, he’s not going to tell,” Thundercracker assured his Commander. “Right, Skywarp?”

Skywarp folded his arms. “Only if Screamer takes back his punishment threats.”

Starscream relented. “Ok, yes. Fine. No discipline. Ok?”

The Seeker smiled. “And since you’re feeling so cooperative, I’ve been meaning to ask you some...stuff.”

Starscream did NOT like the sound of that. “What kind of...stuff??”

“Well, c’mon.” Before he knew it, the Air Commander found his trine-mate’s arm slung around his shoulder as if he were a long-time friend. “We can discuss it on the way back to the space bridge.”

Starscream groaned, not liking where this was going at all.

Thundercracker only looked on, still trying to swallow everything that had happened. Suffice to say, he found himself feeling rather...odd about it. And he could tell Starscream held this sentiment as well. Truly, it sounded unreal: he had just held down their superior while his wingmate tickled him into near insanity. Had he not seen it himself, let alone participated in it, he wouldn’t have believed it. Frankly, he was beginning to feel quite embarrassed about how he had sunk so low to be involved in something so childish, but…

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t that bad!” The blue Seeker heard Skywarp say. “You were smiling the whole time!”

“Yes, against my will!!!!” Starscream retorted, folding his arms and, for lack of a better word, pouting.

“But don’t you feel just a little bit better?”

Starscream’s red optics widened. “No! It-“ had he been human, he would’ve been red as a tomato. Odd how the meatbag’s skin changed at just the slightest amount of extreme emotion. “Hmph!!! Well...I’m not talking to you right now!!! Or in the next few Earth hours. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or-“ he was interrupted by a poke, unprepared to contain the giggle that slipped out. “Do that again, and I WILL blast you this time.” He threatened.

“That makes a millionth-and-three.” Skywarp answered, unfazed.

Thundercracker continued to watch the two Seekers argue and banter with each other, noticing that, even if he would swear to Primus Himself that it wasn’t the case, since his tickling session, Starscream seemed...less irritable?

“Well, maybe that’ll be the lucky number. What’s that human saying again? Third time’s the charm?”

“I don’t think they have plus a million in there though.” Skywarp chuckled, Starscream huffing.

“Shut up.”

Thundercracker could only speculate. One could never tell with Starscream. But from watching him, he had a vague idea of what was going in his processor. And that he’d keep it a secret from everyone.

#transformers #transformers generation one #transformers g1 #starscream #thundercracker #skywarp #seeker trine #g1 seekers #seekers #sensitive #tickle #tickle fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Note

Idk if you still accept requests but can you please bless us with more Levihan Witcher AU?Hanji as a bard/alchemist is so on brand for her.

anon, thank you so much for this ask! you woulnd’t believe it, but this fic was sitting in my drafts for almost six months, and your ask finally motivated me to finish it! this is super self-indulgent and also my nerdiness for witcher series is definetely showing but eh.... hope you still enjoy it <3

The town of Rinde, near the edge of Redania, was as shitty as they came.

The roads were washed away with dirt, the huts (calling them houses would be an exaggeration) stood dirty and even and kids were running around, dressed in torn clothes and without any shoes on.

Needless to say, all of it disgusted Levi.

And, really, he would have skipped that town altogether, it didn’t look like there was anyone there, who was rich enough to pay for hiring him, and, since he wasn’t on a hunt for a long time, he really needed to find someone, who would toss that coin to the witcher. He would have skipped that town, he almost did, but then he heard it. His witcher senses had picked it up immediately, the faint sound, the voice that was unmistakable for him, even though Levi hadn’t heard it for almost a year.

He headed in the direction of that voice instantly, the Roach following after him with an unusual willingness. Maybe, the horse has sensed her as well. The Roach always liked the annoying bard, after all.

After reaching the small tavern near the outskirts of the town and tying Roach to the outpost, Levi stopped in front of the door, giving himself the time to change his decision.

The tavern wasn’t up to his standards. At all. Even without seeing what was inside, it was enough for Levi to see the moldy walls to understand that he was standing at the threshold to a shithole.

He should have turned around and escaped this town. The nightfall was approaching and, as far as he knew, there wasn’t a town or even a village nearby. He’d have to sleep under the stars again. It was more preferable to stepping inside the unkempt tavern.

Besides, even without his supernatural senses, he could hear that the place was full of drunkards. Some shouted out vulgar jokes and laughed boisterously, some sang loudly and quite terribly.

And amidst all of it, there it was. Her voice that was laughing and singing with the rest of the patrons. For anyone else it would have been hard to decipher just one voice out of the dozens of others, but for Levi, this voice was special.

There were no doubts in his mind anymore. He pushed the door open.

All conservation ceased as soon as Levi walked inside. Well, that was to be expected. What was unexpected was the absence of a loud cheerful shriek greeting him. Although... considering the way he parted with Hange a year ago, maybe, he should have expected it as well.

Nevertheless, she paid him no attention, didn't even look at him. Levi's mood worsened. Glaring at all the patrons, he made his way to the bar.

"Tea," he ordered gruffly.

"Tea?" the maiden, who was standing behind the bar, raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Are you sure? We have ale, beer, vodka..."

"I don't want that piss that you call ale and beer here, and I definitely do not want to taste whatever the fuck substitutes vodka in this shithole. Just simple tea. You have it, I hope?"

"I'll look around...." the maiden nodded uncertainly. "Anything else?"

"If you have some soup that'd be great."

"Alright, I'll bring your order in a minute. Are you going to stay the night?"

Levi's eyes immediately darted to Hange. She wasn't looking at him. He sighed.

"We'll see about that."

Levi spent the whole evening boring holes into the back of Hange's head. She didn't turn around even once, too busy having fun with her new friends. As he watched the merry group in front of him, Levi couldn't help but scoff. Most of them, both men and women, were already smitten with Hange. He could see it in the way they subtly touched her hand or squeezed her shoulder, in the way they smiled dreamily and blushed every time she looked at them. Hange always had an uncanny ability to charm people. If it was her silvery voice or just the natural charisma, Levi wasn’t sure. He hated it nevertheless.

Not because Hange managed to put him under her spell as well (she did not) but because he hated when Hange paid attention to someone, except him. Apparently, even witchers could be childish sometimes.

However, considering what he had told Hange at that mountain, when anger and frustration took over him, maybe, he didn't deserve her attention anymore.

Still, Levi felt bitter, watching Hange’s smiles and teasing directed on someone, who wasn’t him. He missed her, goddamn it. It took him so long to realize it, but he enjoyed Hange’s company so much. The hunts just weren’t the same, if she wasn’t by his side, splurging some weird facts she read from bestiaries at Oxcenfurt. The roads seemed longer without Hange, who filled the silence with one of her new songs or her musings about the life. And even though, Levi always acted annoyed whenever Hange claimed that the nights were too chilly, so they have to sleep together to savor the warmth, now, since she wasn’t sleeping by his side anymore, even a brightly lit fire couldn’t make the cold disappear.

Shit, he was in such a deep shit.

As the evening progressed into the night, the patrons slowly started to tinker out of the tavern. Levi watched each of them carefully, trying to guess which of these lucky bastards would leave together with Hange.

However, soon almost everyone had left. The only other person, who was still at the tavern, was Hange.

As soon as the last customer went on his way, she sat atop the table and took out her lute.

She plucked the strings of the instrument, tuning it in. Throughout the evening, Hange sang numerous songs, all of them were accompanied by laughter and applause. But not by her lute.

A special lute that was given to her by an elf after her last one was destroyed and after Levi had threatened the said elf to break her nose if she dared to put that miserable expression on a pretty face of his bard ever again.

It was a shame that Hange still refused to look at him. He always enjoyed looking at her while she played. Her expression always matched the song she was performing - if the song was fast and catchy, she would be grinning from ear to ear, lightening up the whole room, and if she was singing the sad one, the one about heartbreak and tragic love, her face was mournful, her eyes distant.

Hange started to play, and Levi recognized the song instantly.

A storm raging on the horizon of longing, and heartache, and lust

Damn, of course, she decided to sing that song. Evidently, Hange was out to torture him as much as possible.

“I dedicate it to you, Levi!” she announced after she had first presented it to him.

They were in the middle of a road, resting in front of a fire after an exhausting hunt for a Nightwraith. Well, Levi was resting after an exhausting hunt, Hange was sitting beside him, blabbering almost nonstop. She sang a song to him too, after shyly confessing that this was her latest creation.

“How the fuck can this song be about me?” Levi grunted then. “It’s about woman, dipshit.”

“Ah, but a song about a man won’t be popular amongst my fellow bards! So I had to change a few things there and then.”

“So my kiss is that sweet?” he asked, fighting back a smile.

Hange snickered, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “And it destroys me each time.”

That memory – amongst hundreds, millions of others – kept replaying in his mind, as he listened to her beautiful voice. Hange was called a genius, one of the most talented bards in all Northern Kingdoms.

Levi always considered it to be bullshit. He was sure that even in Nilfgaardian Empire there wasn’t an artist half as blessed with a gift of music as Hange was.

As she finished the song, Hange got to her feet. She slanged her lute over her shoulder and headed to the bar. As he watched her order, Levi hid a small smile – it seemed Hange was still inseparable with the damn lute. Some things never change, it seemed.

His musings were cut off abruptly, when Hange sat down at his table. In her hands she held two cups with something that smelled very much like piss. Levi cringed.

Hange finished the first mug in one go. She wiped off her mouth and then put the mug down with a loud ‘thud’. She pushed the second mug to Levi.

“Drink,” she ordered, glaring at him.

“I don’t get drun—”

“Drink,” she pressed. “I don’t care if your stupid witcher physiology enables you from getting drunk. I won’t have this conversation if one of us is sober.”

“Alright,” Levi nodded and took a large gulp from the mug. Oh, so that was ale. Disgusting. “Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Hange crossed hands on her chest. “Now answer me this – what is so interesting about the back of my head?”

“What? I don’t—”

“You do,” Hange cut him off once more. “You do understand. You’ve been staring at me the whole evening. Don’t you have something better to do? Some important witcher stuff? What the fuck are you even doing here, Levi?”

“I…” he cleared his throat, feeling small under Hange’s furious gaze. “I needed somewhere to spend the night.”

“And that’s why you decided to spend your evening in the company of drunkards, eating your soup in a corner?”

“Maybe, I’ve missed the human’s company.”

Hange threw her head back and laughed. “You missing human’s company? Don’t give me that crap.”

“Well…” for a second Levi fidgeted with a sleeve of his armor, refusing to look Hange in the eyes. It was now or never. Either he apologizes to Hange right now, or there won’t be another chance to reconcile. He took a deep breath and lifted his gaze. “Maybe, I’ve missed you.”

Hange’s eyes widened just a fraction. She composed herself almost immediately, but Levi noticed the slight change in her. Could it be that not everything was lost?

“Bullshit,” Hange answered, her tone even colder than before. “How can you miss the person, who destroyed your life again and again? Who is the sole reason for any hardship you had ever faced? Who does nothing, but shit on your future?”

Levi silently lowered his head, not even trying to stop Hange’s angry tirade. He deserved every word, every insult she threw his way. He would endure a lot more offence from her, if it meant that Hange would forgive him. If everything could go back to normal. If Levi could finally reunite with his best friend.

Hange took a deep sigh and stood up. Levi looked up at her gingerly, expecting to see her storm out of the tavern. Instead Hange went to the bar again, ordering two more mugs of ale, and returned to his table.

“They are for me,” she told curtly, when Levi tried to reach to one of the mugs. “I really can’t deal with this sober.”

“Hange…” he cleared his throat, feeling more nervous and vulnerable than when he was staring at a mob of harpies. “The way I treated you was awful… I was angry and needed someone to pour that anger out, but you didn’t deserve it. I’m asking for your forgiveness, but if you can’t grant it… just say so. I promise not to bother you after this.”

“Sweet Melitele,” Hange shook her head. “Tell me, Levi, are all witchers assholes, or was I just lucky enough to meet an exception?”

She took a long sip of ale, wincing and wiping her mouth afterwards. For a long moment, Hange stared at the table, tracing the invisible patterns on the old, wooden surface.

“I forgive you, you dumbass,” she said finally. Her words made Levi’s heart swell. He stared at her, hope shining in his gaze. “But I have two conditions.”

“Anything,” Levi promised readily.

“Anything, huh?” Hange arched an eyebrow. “Are you really that eager to have my forgiveness or are you just naturally so brave?”

“Both,” he replied, shrugging.

“My first condition,” she smiled in an almost feral manner. Shivers ran through his spine, but Levi didn’t allow himself to shudder. Showing his fear would only make Hange crueler. “I want you to help me with my experiments. I found a new potion and I need a person with fast metabolism to run some tests on it, and I need to extract four front teeth from algoul for my next concoction.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Hange nodded. “As for my first condition. My second one,” she paused, leaning in and grabbing the collar of his armor. “I need you to give me that sweet kiss of yours.”

“Well,” Levi smirked, moving closer to her, before their lips were almost touching. “Ready to be destroyed then.”

#oh god this thing is probably incomprehensible for anyone who didn't watch the show or read the books #ah well :')#levihan

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stab-the-son-of-a · 3 years ago

Text

Whumptober No.4 - Taken Hostage

TW: Guns, off-screen assumed character death, sexist character, smoking

Taglist: @whumpers-inc

There is a surprising (and hand-cramping) amount of paperwork that goes into working at a call center, even one as unconventional as 1-877-WHMP-NOW. An annoying, several hour, several stack amount. Bianca will never forgive whoever it was in HR or accounting (the only two departments who actually seem masochistic enough to enjoy bureaucracy) that suggested all these extra reports and encounter summaries and redundancy measures.

In the same way you tune out the world while enjoying a nature walk and only begin paying attention again when your unconscious mind notices something dangerously wrong, Bianca pauses in her muttered curses to the paperwork gods and listens.

“Why of course she’s in today,” Fran says in a tight tone. “I’ll just transfer you right to your personal whump-passionate care coordinator, Dom.”

Not Dom. Not that irritating, overly stuffed up crock of shit again. Dom had run through almost the entire call center, leaving Bianca the only person who had yet to swear to walk if they were forced to deal with the self-impressed asshole. Jerking her head up, Bianca stares Fran down, like a deer willing a semi-truck to change paths. She shakes her head, desperately miming cutting across her throat with a rushed flail.

Their gazes lock. Fran continues to dial, even as they watch Bianca’s distressed pantomime with all the impassive finality of a monarch’s sentence.

“Don’t you dare, Fran,” Bianca hisses. “I swear by all that is good and holy if you transfer him--”

Her line rings, and she answers it with a chipper grin that doesn’t touch her glare one bit. “Well hey, sugar!” If looks could kill, Bianca would be in a whole other line of work right now as she tosses an eraser at Fran’s head. “What can I do for you today, hun?”

Well, she can already tell this isn’t going to be a pleasant call, not if the sirens are any indication.

“Brianna,” Dom cries, “I’m too handsome for jail!”

Bianca mouths to Fran, “I’ll kill you,” even as they duck their head and pretend to be oh-so invested in their latest call report. She tosses another eraser and this one hits the mark, bouncing off the back of their skull.

“Hello! Brianna! I need you to put down the Covergirl or your nail file and do your job, sweetheart.”

Rolling her eyes, she returns her attention to Dom. “I’m awful sorry. What did you say your emergency was?”

“Thank you for the urgency,” he spits.

Bianca waits for him to elaborate. The sirens on his end of the line continue blaring, the voluming growing as they grow closer.

“Did the line cut out, sugar?” she prompts, carefully sterilizing her tone with a thick layer of honey.

“I tried to rob this small town little podunk town store and took this girl--” Dom lets out a short cry of pain and kicks at something. He corrects himself, ”This bitch. And someone had the nerve to call the cops on me!”

At the sound of gunfire- too close to the gun to be from any policeman, Bianca raises a single brow in silent question of his intelligence. In her humble, professional opinion wasting ammo on puerile displays and a lead tantrum is useless, but again, she’s just a professional. She only graduated at the top of her class and has years, if not decades, on Dom in terms of experience.

Of course, Bianca says none of that.

“Have you taken the girl hostage, Dom?”

“Yes! Jeez, do I have to spell everything out for you people?”

“It’s very helpful when our clients are clear and precise, Dom,” Bianca returns, an almost feral edge to the too wide portions of her smile. “Have you read our informational brochure, ‘So You Want to Take a Hostage’? Or perused our FAQs for whumpers?”

“Why should I?”

A year ago maybe Bianca might have been surprised. Now she’s just glad Dom can’t see the various mocking faces and mouthed insults she indulges in due to such a response. That doesn’t mitigate the desire she feels to bash her head against her desk until her mental faculties match Dom’s. Instead, she parrots, “No. Why should you.”

“So, what do I do?” Dom asks, impatience clear in his tone. “How do I get out of this?”

“Well, Dom, could I speak with your hostage for a hot sec?”

Completely ignoring her question, Dom muses aloud, “What if I just went out there with my guns and just started shooting. There’s only one car out there. I can take out some backwater donut cop.”

She loves her job. She loves her job. She. Loves. Her. Job. She may be a masochist.

“That course of action might not work well, sugar,” Bianca says carefully.

“Why not?”

Just as she’s about to answer, said aforementioned cop starts in with the megaphones and the offers for surrender. Quickly, she traces the call while Dom yells back about assholes and what he deserves and specifically what the cop deserves, involving his megaphone and uncomfortable places.

That ‘podunk’ little town is more of a small city, and even if there is only one cop currently there, there are bound to be more en route, and rapidly at that.

“Are you listening to me, sweetheart?” Dom demands. “There’s only one of him and I’ve got two guns. It’s fool proof.”

Oh, it’s something to do with fools alright. “So, to clarify, you’ve got a gun in each hand?”

“I just said that, honey, put your listening ears on and try to keep up.”

Over her ten plus years working with the call center, Bianca has heard plenty of stupid shit in her time but trying to go out dual wielding guns is… a new one. She quickly shoots Fran a short text reading, You SO owe me, Franny.

“What about your hostage? How are you going to keep control over her? Is she bound?” Bianca tries to reason with Dom, the apparent Blade wannabe, even if it’s futile.

“I’ll bring her with and put the gun to her head. Easy.”

Easy. Yes, so easy. Fran returns her text. ‘You’re the absolute goddess of dealing with BS I am not worthy.’

“Dom, could you be a dear and let me speak with her, please? Thank you sugar.”

“God what is it with women always needing to yap yap yap?” Dom complains as he rips the gag out of the hostage’s mouth.

“FUCK YOU!” She howls immediately. “I’ll bite your fingers off, you small dicked piece of shit!”

So, Bianca had admittedly harbored suspicions that the ‘girl’ was actually a grown woman, considering Dom’s typical behavior, but this certainly confirms that. A wistful sigh builds as Bianca listens to the hostage chew Dom out and insult his manhood and intelligence.

‘Damn straight. I expect pumpkin spice brownies and a latte on my desk tomorrow morning.’

‘It’s June.’

“It’s DOM.’

‘Pumpkin spice brownies gotcha.’

A solid, but wet crack jerks Bianca’s attention back to the matter at hand. The hostage is eerily quiet. Waiting for a response from either Dom or the hostage, she picks at the dry skin on her lips and taps her foot.

“Oh shit,” Dom whispers.

Screwing her eyes shut as if that will change what his answer is, Bianca asks, “Dom?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you just pistol whip your hostage?”

“Yeah.”

Nope, this is officially the stupidest, most asinine, bass-ackwards call from a client she’s ever had to suffer through. Clearly having overheard, Fran twists around to get a better vantage point to watch as Bianca places her head in her hands and fights back a scream of frustration.

Collecting herself, Bianca chirps, “I’m sorry, sugar, but you really ought to have read our guide. The first rule of a hostage situation is to keep your hostage alive as leverage. Now, as it stands, you’re a murderer surrounded by... “ She counts up each little blip. “Four cop cars and another two on the way. You have to understand, honey, that it goes against policy to stay involved.”

“What? No! You can’t do this you bitch!”

Bianca grins, sharp and vicious. “Oh, Dom, I can, and I will.” With that, and Dom still shouting injustice, she hangs up.

“I’ve wanted to do that for forever,” she breezily admits to Fran.

They match her smile inch for inch, and then some. “Bee, you’re my hero. I’m throwing in maple walnut fudge pancakes just for that.”

“Of course we’ll have IT burn the connection and remote into Dom’s phone before the incident gets too close to home, blah blah blah, and we’ll look into whether that lady remembers anything after the whole gun to the head thing,” she dismisses, “but for now, I need a smoke break or twenty. Toodles!”

#whumptober2021 #no.4 #taken hostage #oc #fic #guns #off-screen character death #smoking #sexism #wcc series #wcc fran #wcc bianca #hostage situation #pistol whipping #food mention

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winterspiderlover2704 · 3 years ago

Text

Just worked on this don’t know if it’s good but you know I’m kinda proud of it

Cedric was not one that could be angered easily. But tonight, he had nearly blew a gasket. When he had asked Cho Chang to be his date it was more of a ploy to try and get over his first ( and only) love... and to maybe get her a little jealous. But the tables were turned as soon as he saw who Viktor Krum had brought as his date. Viktor had brought Harriet Potter ( love of Cedric’s life) as his date with a smug smirk on his face when looking at Cedric. It took everything in Cedric not to demand answers from Krum and even more to not abandon Cho in favor of stealing Harriet. After glaring and hoping a hole would burn into Krum’s head, he turned his head slightly to take in Harriet’s appearance. She was naturally beautiful and did not care for makeup and other girly things. But seeing her dressed up for the Yule Ball absolutely took his breath away. She was dressed in emerald green gown that had made Slytherin girls green with envy and Slytherin boys drool and trip over themselves.

Gorgeous, could not begin to describe how she looked. One would wonder if Harriet had Veela lineage. Seeing her so beautiful but for another man made Cedric feel something twist painfully in his stomach and boil his blood. Through out the night he had made sure that Krum had made no advancements on his lioness. He hardly made an effort to pay attention to Cho. If he had he would of noticed her scowling at Harriet and trying to divert his attention back to her.

Viktor’s POV

It was quite amusing to see the foolish badger looking territorial. I had asked Harriet to the ball after finding her crying in a library secluded table. After coming to this foolish school, I could find that many of it’s residents were just downright frustrating to deal with. However, I had met Harriet and her friends. Her lot and her knew that I was just another person, so we had become quick friends. Harriet is the sister I always wanted so, seeing cry just made me so furious with Diggory. After the fist task a lot of people had begun to see that my darling little sister did not willingly enter her name but Diggory was still hesitant to come and apologize to her. She looked so sad that he had asked another girl to the ball that I just had to do something. Not to mention this was the perfect way to keep all unworthy boys away from my precious sister. After all despite what my sister thinks she is actually very desired through out the school. I was pulled out of my musings when I felt someone staring at me. I turned around to see stormy gray eyes of my fellow champion. I wanted to mess with him a little so I did what would probably rile any guy up. I put my arm around my honorary sister’s waist and whispered in her ear.

“ I would rather be playing some quidditch with you instead of this boring ball, after all you are probably the only one that could match my skill here.”, I saw from the corner of my eye Diggory tensing up and looked like he was going to stomp his way towards us If he hadn’t been held back by that infuriating girl, Cho Chang.

“ Same, I would rather be flying through the air than having my feet on my ground.”, Harriet had whispered back to me with a beaming smile on her face. That smile alone caused my heart to melt at how adorable she is. And from my field of vision it looked like I wasn’t the only one affected. Boys all over the hall were getting slapped upside their head for staring at Harriet. But the best reaction was Diggory‘s he looked absolutely transfixed on Harriet that he didn’t notice Cho huff at him with frustrated tears in her eyes. Ah, it is always a pleasure in giving people a taste of their own medicine.

Cedric’s POV:

It hurt so much to see her smile like that to another man. Despite being Hufflepuff’s poster boy, I am still a man ( that happens to be a little possessive when it comes to my lioness). I know I broke up with Harriet but I wasn’t thinking clearly and was hurt when I heard all the rumors going around school. I should have known better but I wanted this chance to prove that I was good enough to be her first and only boyfriend. But seeing her so friendly with the Viktor Krum made me wonder if I was really worth being her only boyfriend — no, I refuse. I am going to prove that I am worthy of loving her. I just need to prove to her that she is the only one for me and that I would only ever truly love her. But I already messed up by bring Cho, maybe I could just leave early and tell Cho that we should just be friends. Hufflepuff reputation of being kind aside, I just wanted my fierce lioness back and hopefully she still wants her ridiculous badger. I turned to face Cho to get it over with because a second more of seeing Krum whispering and giggling with my lioness is starting to cause me to see red and not the good kind like Harriet’s quidditch uniform. As I turned to look at Cho for the fist time since I saw Harriet enter the hallway on Krum’s arm and I see a weird look in her eye, better get this over with, NOW.

Cho’s POV:

Cedric was finally looking at ME. Not that glorified Potter. I don’t get why all the boys seem to be fawning over her. She was pretty sure but usually Potter doesn’t even care to look presentable during school. Unlike me, in which I make sure that I look nothing less than 110%. So when Cedric took his eyes off his horrendous ex, I couldn’t contain my excitement.

“Hey... um... “, why was he being so awkward? Was he going to apologize for ignoring me or maybe even better ask me to be his new girlfriend, I know I would be much better at it than Potter.

Oh! I can already see our future together the wedding, the house and even our-

“I’m going to turn in Cho, I’m pretty tired. Thanks for being such a good friend —“. I couldn’t process anything my dear Cedric said after that.

He wasn’t going to ask me out?! But why?!?! I am literally the most perfect girl for him! It MUST be because he was still under that chit Potter lover spell. Oh my poor Cedric! Don’t worry darling, I will be there when you finally realize that I am truly the one for you. I looked up to see Cedric had an expected face, he was waiting for my response.

“ Don’t worry Cedric you just go back to your dorm and get some rest. Merlin knows you deserve it.” I said with a forced smile on my face. I watched him with concentrated eyes as he walked back to his dorm. Blasted Potter was still on Krum’s arm acting so innocent, if she’s innocent then Snape actually loves Gryffindor.

Draco’s POV:

Blasted Krum, how dare he just show up to my school and think he can have anybody he wants. Potter should be on my arm showing her how much better than Diggory I was. But instead she’s on the arm of that brute. She looked absolutely gorgeous and had a lot of the male population’s eyes on her through out the ball, it just made me want to scream and hex said male population for daring to look at her. I wanted to ask her to the ball since I knew Diggory had asked Cho but word got around that Potter had a mystery date and rejecting any and all invites. It had made me burn with rage that I had originally plotted to hex whoever her date was when they finally showed their stupid face. Seeing as her date turned out to be Krum threw my plan out the bloody window. Damned Krum, my father will hear about this.

#harry potter #harry x cedric #cedric diggory #viktor krum #cho chang #draco malfoy #Possessive Cedric #Protective Krum #Obsessed Cho Chang #Delusional Draco Malfoy #yule ball #fem!harry potter #Pseudo Brother Viktor Krum #Cho Chang bashing-ish #Protective Cedric #harry potter and the triwizard tournament #harry potter and the goblet of fire

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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Paper Flowers: the final count down

Roman and Virgil have a fight as the end of their character’s time on Vine draws nearer every day.

You are giggling as you finish reading a PrincexNemesis fanfic on AO3.

It was a great story about Nemesis, named Marcus/Marcia in the story, was cursed at a young age to switch gender every time the sun passed the horizon. Leading to the poor kid being Marcia by day, the Prince’s bethroted whom he could not stand, and Marcus by night, the Prince’s sworn enemy who he was madly in love with. It was mainly a very funny story and the author left it very vague which gender Nemesis was born with. All they said was that Nemesis would be stuck with the gender they were when the received their first kiss. Which was given to them as Marcus. The tension came from whether Nemesis would be able to avoid getting stuck as Marcia on the wedding day, as he preferred Marcus.

It was very funny, but also surprisingly deep. Or maybe you are reading too much into it.

Just when you pressed ‘post’ on your comment you get an alert.

It’s vine time!

The video opens up and you see Prince pushing of an enemy and stabbing him.

You can hear a cheer and the camera turns to dad. “That’s my boy!” he cheers.

Prince kisses a maidens hand. Once more a shout is heard and you see dad. “Great job buddy!”

Prince polishes his sword, yet another shout. “Just look at you!” dad squeals from the doorway.

Prince looks up exasperated. “Can you not!?” Dad looks sheepishly and slowly glides out of view.

You wipe away a tear as you let your laughter subside. Everyone who’s been to any game or play ever has seen one of those parents.

You’ve seen people on tumblr who have jumped on this ‘the characters all live in the same kingdom’ concept and ran with it. It was a fun world they’d created. Teacher was the Prince’s tutor. Nemesis had several potential backstories, from the son of a nobleman to an orphan servant in the castle. Prince was, obviously, heir to the throne. And dad was either a nanny to the prince and other children in court, or father to the Prince or the nemesis. It made for some fun imagined shenanigans, that was for sure.

You are curious though, what will come next.

...

“No.”

Roman groaned in annoyance. “Anxiety, I don’t need your cooperation to propose a skit idea to Thomas,” he reminded him. He didn’t, he’d never asked before they became friends. But they’d been doing so well on communicating since. What, one might ask, made Roman dismiss Virgil’s input now?

A couple of bad nights, for starters. The fact that they’d been having this argument in front of Patton and Logan for the past half hour, meaning he had to keep up pretenses. And lastly, Virgil was just being difficult on purpose it seemed.

All Roman wanted was to have a nice final skit between their characters before they moved to youtube. There still would be skits involving either of them, but he liked the thought of wrapping up the nemesis story line before starting the story of the prince of creativity and Anxiety on youtube.

Virgil, however, seemed unwilling to even entertain the idea of another Prince vs Nemesis skit entirely. Let alone one to wrap up the semi storyline they’d made.

“Then go ahead and do it. See if I care!” Virgil growled before storming off.

Roman let out a frustrated sigh and dropped in the couch. “Impossible! That man is simply impossible sometimes!” he complained loudly. He was angry with Virgil right now. He wasn’t even going to try to deny that. Virgil could be infuriating sometimes.

And he was going to complain and pout as long as he liked, thank you very much. He was not the unreasonable one in this scenario.

“Kiddo, Anxiety is just like that. You know that he has a tendency to disagree on principle.”

Roman huffed. He knew better. Virgil was not usually difficult for no reason. He was a safety measure of sorts. He made sure they all thought through every decision. Every action.

Often a little too much, but he meant it well.

It was rare that he gave Roman no room to argue. A straight up ‘no’, even before their alliance, was rare. There were arguments, objections, doubts. But ‘no’ was usually with very good reason.

Roman just could not phantom the reason right now though. Which was why he was so angry.

He had learned to manage patience when he could see the source of Virgil’s concern. But now?

“Actually Patton, usually when Anxiety disagrees with us, he has at least some form of reasoning behind it. Be it of an irrational sort. It is not often that he gives no form of motivation behind his outbursts. This would lead me to believe that he has reasons, he just does not wish to discuss them, or maybe even might not wish to acknowledge them to himself.”

Roman listened to Logan making perfect sense, as he tended to do. But he didn’t feel like really thinking about that. He was still upset with Virgil.

“Or maybe he is just in a rude mood,” Roman objected stubbornly.

Logan took in a deep breath. “As much as I dislike figuratively feeding your ego, Roman, I feel like the positive changes in his behavior over the last year might be largely due to you.”

Oh, now this was something Roman was willing to pause his sulking for.

He shot up and looked at Logan expectantly.

Logan looked like he regretted speaking to begin with. Luckily for Roman, Patton had gotten curious.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Roman thought there was a strange sting to Patton’s voice, but he must’ve been mistaken, surely.

“Roman… You have been different ever since you asked for your memories of interactions with Anxiety… What was it that you found in there?”

Oh, no. Damn him and his promises.

Roman shrugged, feigning losing interest. “He saved Thomas and his friend earlier that day, and he didn’t seem to consider that a big deal. So I got curious and looked back and found that most of what he said, like you mentioned could maybe be read as trying to help somehow.”

Roman prayed Logan wouldn’t ask more. Luckily he didn’t.

“I see. I assume that this new information led to you changing your approach to your communication with Anxiety and this led to him being less tense around you.

He let you convince him to interact with us, he made an effort to explain himself and collaborated more on your projects,” Logan deduced.

“Could it be that to Anxiety, the start of that positive change in his life is connected to the skits between your character and his?” he wondered.

Roman’s eyes widened. “What? So me ending that storyline feels like me rejecting him or something?” he asks a little incredulously.

Logan looked up in surprise. “Well… That is a possibility,” he nodded. Why was he so shocked Roman could figure stuff out on his own. He could be empathetic enough for this. He might be the ego but he was not that self-centered. Bonds with others was high on his priority list too.

“The poor kiddo feels like he’s all alone now,” Patton mused sadly.

Roman got up. He was not ready to feel bad for Virgil. Especially when he was being ridiculous. As if Roman would end their friendship like this. Did he think so little of him?

He stormed off to his room and landed himself on his bed.

He wasn’t in the wrong, it was not his job to apologize. He kept repeating that to himself but occasionally he wondered if Virgil was overthinking right now. Thinking that Roman hated him now…

No. He was not in the wrong, he got to be mad if he wanted to. Virgil got to be mad with him when he got lost in a monologue and got all kinds of ideas stuck in Thomas’ head without consulting anyone making Virgil feel like he had to be the bad guy for scaring Thomas away from the ideas he loved too much to let anyone else convince him to adjust them.

He’d swallowed his pride and apologized to Virgil then.

So he was going to be petty and stubborn for as long as…

There was a knock at his door. Roman shot up and walked over to his front door and opened it. There was no one to be seen. When he looked down though, he saw something that took his breath away.

He picked up the paper purple hyacinth and the accompanying note.

“I know you are mad. Please let me explain before you hate me forever? I’ll be waiting.”

Roman let out a sigh. Purple hyacinths represent sorrow and regret. And it must’ve been such a pain to get the paper to bend to his will like this.

Now Roman had to go and meet Virgil. He put the flower in the vase along with the rest of the assemble bouquet and hurriedly opened the door to the field.

“Virgil?” he called out before he even closed it.

The anxious man was pacing through the field, trampling a path in the ground.

Luckily the field fixed itself every time they left.

Virgil looked up and his shoulders relaxed. Clearly he saw Roman’s swift arrival as a good sign.

His anger already fading, Roman added the hyacinths to the field to show he’d gotten his apology gift and accepted it.

“I thought about what I said… Or didn’t say and… Maybe I was just… I didn’t want us to stop making skits together,” he rambled, playing with his hoodie sleeves and pointedly not looking at Roman.

Roman let out a sigh. Logan had been on the right path then.

“Virgil, you really think that I did not enjoy working on those with you?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged.

“Well I did. Therefore I will call upon your aid any chance I get. I actually expect you to assist me quite often in the creation of the sanders sides series and many other projects. I merely wanted to give the fanders a satisfying ending to the adventures of the prince and his nemesis on vine,” he explained calmly.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah… I’m sorry. Really I am. I was pretty rude to you and you did nothing to deserve it,” he said softly, glancing up at Roman nervously.

“You are forgiven, Grim Creeper,” Roman smiled reassuringly.

Then he got an idea. It would let him vent the last bits of frustration and Virgil could maybe work of some angsty energy as well. “If you really feel like you’ll miss the prince and the nemesis that much though…”

And just like that Roman summoned two swords, tossing one to Virgil who caught it in surprise.

“I shall teach you the art of the blade!” he declared.

Virgil rolled his eyes but smirked. “Let me have it Princey,” he challenged.

...

While the two younger sides sparred in the field, the fatherly side was headed to the stairs leading down in search of an anxious sides room. Hoping he’d be let in now.

“Patton?” Logan called.

Patton flinched at being spotted. Though he wasn’t sure why. Was it so bad that he tried to help Anxiety?

“Hya Logan!” Patton greeted sheepishly. “I was going to make sure Anxiety was okay…”

Logan cocked his head. “Patton, I’m obviously no expert, but if my interpretation of his thought process of today was correct, he feels rather vulnerable right now. While that might mean he’s more open to sharing and closeness, it also means he might be in a state of heightened alertness.

If you attempt to approach him now you could very well make things worse with small mistakes.”

Patton bit his lip. Logan was right. Anxiety was not in a right state of mind. If Patton wanted to him to let him in, then it couldn’t happen when he was feeling hurt and alone. No matter how badly Patton wanted to comfort him. Going in now would be for Patton’s sake. Not Anxiety’s.

“We will make our way back to him Patton. Who knows? Maybe Roman’s youtube project lends us a chance to interact with him more frequently,” Logan offered.

Patton nodded. They’d get there. Sooner or later they’d be a happy family.

He just had to be patient and let Anxiety decide when he felt ready to try again.

Intorducing the sides

@vixdoesbadart @vpow @apinkline2715 @tired-yeetling @firegirl156 @soysaucevictim @1nsomniacwriter @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #paper flowers au #prinxiety

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danddymaro · 4 years ago

Text

Name | Ocelot x Reader

Idea: She wants to know his name.

Flashbacks are in italics : Example

Thoughts are italics in quotes : ‘Example’

Wordcount: 2742

Name

‘ I want to know your name…

I want to say it like we're close …

Ah...No...

Not just that...

No...

I want to be closer than that…

Above all else, I want to be trusted by you…’

As her eyes fell over the man, she felt her heart race, beating with an unsteady pace as she watched his strands of long, silky silver blow with the warm wind.

Batting her eyes quickly, she tore her gaze from his face, falling down to his gloved hand instead, silently placing her own next to his, right there, on the same chilled raining.

‘ I want to... But how can I? ‘ She grimaced, visually showing her internal discomfort as her brows creased, her lips pressed together into a tight, straight line that strained them.

Her wistful thinking did nothing but further her into distress that she knew would eventually morph into misery if she wasn’t careful.

Her little finger gave a small twitch, inching closer to his hand, the thought of it falling over his exiting her greatly, but of course, she stopped herself, deciding to hold onto the cool metal instead.

She held it sternly, her hand balled tightly as she lived through the cowardice decision with disdain,

‘ How can I?

How can I move closer to you when I still don't know you like I should?’ she asked herself, wanting to ask him instead, yet, lacking all the will it took.

‘ Why do I just want to give you everything?

Much more...

Why do you take? But never give?

Am I just not worthy of it? Is that it? Do you just not trust me enough?

I wish you’d tell me.’

She went on, having asked herself the questions over and over again, silently reciting the lines as though practice was all she needed, and one day she’d have what it took to question him.

“ I...” she started, barely breathing out the single word, feeling the words knot up in her throat right off the bat.

To her dismay, they were all jumbled there, afraid to pass through and be set free to be heard.

‘What can I even say to you?’ She wondered, notably downhearted.

It had all become so hard, and perhaps it was her fault, because all in all, he had no reason to tell her anything, and she sure as hell had no reason falling for a man she truly didn't even know to begin with.

‘ He didn't force me to fall in love with him,’ She thought dejectedly, remembering the fact.

She then stammered to say his name, or at least, the false alias he let everyone know, causing her to grow even more sullen as she uttered the address.

Just then, she felt a hand fall over hers, and with caresses of a gentle thumb, her wound-up hand lost its tense grip of the railing. Slowly, she eased, the warmth of his palm crawling all the way up her body, melting every bit of her tensed muscles.

‘ Sometimes I think I’m the problem,’ she told herself with light amusement, ‘But then you touch me so freely...And you always treat me so...’

She trailed off, her eyes peeking over to him, landing on his smile which gently touched the features of his handsome face,

‘ Differently.’ She determined.

‘So differently, that I dare to feel entitled to so much more,’ She added, while, in that very moment, she wanted to huddle closer to him.

He began to say her name, but was unable to finish as she withdrew,

“I have to go!” she said hurriedly, shaking her head as she backed away, her hand slipping right from under his, immediately being cradled close to her chest where she could feel her heart’s unsteady pounding.

“ Hey, hold on there…" He murmured in a soft, mellow voice, “ what's with that face?” He said stopping her, going as far as to take hold of her wrist, pulling her back to him as soon as he took a grasp of her.

Shocked beyond reason, her eyes rounded as wide as they could go, a short gasp leaving her as she soon found herself standing right before the man.

Her heart thudded loudly within her rib cage, the anxious muscle jumpstarted by the intense strength of his observant, icy orbs as they captured hers, holding them hostage upon the first connected glance.

She could feel her face scathing, burning hot to such a degree that she could only imagine it was practically glowing red, steaming like a dish straight out of the oven.

“- You've been actin’ real strange lately,” he commented, notable concern weaved within his observational remark, “Is something bothering you?” He continued on, his thumb's pad gently circling over the underside of her wrist where he’d yet to let her go.

The action was meant to soothe her, coax her into opening up to him more, but it had the contrary effect:

It furthered her already persistent feeling of distress.

“Care to tell me?” He asked her, his voice still painfully soft and sweetened as a gentle smile was worn on display.

Shaking her head, she refused to let herself open, “No...” she said weakly, tugging to free herself.

“So please, just let me go,” she pleaded him with the same notable shakiness and unease.

‘You make my mind blank, and my heart race so much...it’s impractical.

You make me act irrational, and everything you do gives me reason...

It gives me Hope...

Too much of it...’

At her request, there was a certain hardening to his eyes that made her heart still, knowing there wasn’t a chance he’d let her slip away so easily, especially not now that he seemed determined to uncover the truth,

“(f/n),” he said firmly, “What’s going on with you?” he pressed on.

Her face then contorted into a slight sneer, her two hands balled tightly with frustration,

“Why do I have to tell you?” She grumbled, her (e/c) colored eyes strayed far to the side, not planning to look at him as she uttered the words.

‘Maybe I’m overacting...

Maybe I’m taking this all out of proportion...’ She contemplated,

‘But shouldn’t I at the very least know something about you? Shouldn’t I be able to know the man I spend every day with...

Above all things, shouldn’t I at least be able to call you by your actual name?

Even if it’s in private, away from everyone else in the world...’

She compromised,

‘ I trust you.

In fact, I tell you everything.

So , is it too much to ask for you to give something in return? Or is it not my place to want such a thing?’ she wondered. ‘And if not, shouldn’t I be able to hold onto something that you can’t touch, especially if you’re one not to share?

Shouldn’t I find my distance?

...Eventually, wouldn’t I have to say goodbye to you?’ She thought with sadness.

There was bitterness laced within her tone, one he wasn't accustomed to, and taken back, he opened his eyes wide at her notable disdain, surprised the normally sweet girl had such spite, directed at him none the less.

His hold loosened, his hand falling to the side as his shoulders slightly slumped,

“(f/n)…” he started softly as he felt a pang in his chest, and with that little prick to his heart, he felt it grow heavier than usual, making his breathing feel somewhat lagged.

“ Why should you get to know everything about me?” She asked him, “How is it fair you get to … when I don't even know your damn name? “ She questioned him,

“... when you refuse to tell me anything about you!” She sniffled, a glossy sheet coating her lovely (e/c) eyes.

- And it was then that he could see just what burdened her, realization falling upon him in a way that made him feel stupid.

“I see…” he murmured, “Is that it then?” He questioned her with a small, dry chuckle, because, to him, it was inevitable.

“ Alright then, but I have a question for you too,” he said with a shine to his eyes, something that glittered with playfulness muddied with smugness.

“Why do you care so much, hmm?” He asked her, absolutely living for the immediate blush that bloomed over her face, “I’d be willing to tell you who I really am, only if you can tell me why you need these answers, ”

“You...You answer me first,” she said huffing, staring up at him, trying to downplay her fluster by holding her wavering glare.

“I suppose I could go first,” he started teasingly, “ But only if you can keep a secret,” he said giving her a playful wink.

Nodding enthusiastically, she agreed, watching as he came close to her, his mouth just an inch from her ear,

“You have to promise me you’ll only utter the name with me...swear to me that when we’re together, alone, It’s the only thing you’ll call me,” he said while in the close proximity.

Nodding, she swallowed down hard, waiting for his response, “I will. I promise,” She breathed.

“Adam. Only you can call me Adam. You can repeat the name as many times you want, but just in my presence (f/n), “ He told her, seeing the little shiver that struck her.

Nearing her more, he continued to speak,

“And to make certain that no one else hears, let’s make sure to always stay this close,” He advised her, holding back a snicker when he heard a little peep escape her,

“O-Of course...” She said soon after.

“Now... tell me why is it so important to you?” He muttered lowly, his fingers at her hairline, slowly grazing over her to clear away her bangs, parting them to get a better view of her glowing face.

“I just wanted to know,” She answered shyly, not knowing how to really tell him, or even if she should tell him just how she feels.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he mused, lifting up her chin, and by doing so directly looking into her (e/c) colored eyes.

“But I suppose that is what I deserve for being so vague with you, all while in turn, you give me everything.” He said with fondness, appreciating her willingness for him.

“There are many...many things you can’t know. “ He revealed to her, the statement making her nod with understanding,

‘I figured,‘ She told herself with dejection.

“ - For your sake.” He then added, the admittance causing her to look up at him with glowing eyes, taken back,

‘To keep me safe...?’ She repeated, slowly realizing that perhaps he wasn’t all that selfish, having more reasons to keep quiet.

‘He just wants to keep me safe,’ She thought to herself.

“But,” he said while brushing his lips over hers, “ But there are other things I can share with you,” He said while kissed her, both his hands pressed at the sides of her head, pouring every bit of himself into the single smooch.

She didn’t have time to be surprised, instead, falling into him more, immediately melting in his hands,

“Adam…” she sweetly breathed in between the press, drunk on the passionate mash, her hands needily fisting his tawny-colored shirt.

“Already?” He mused, a deep, chuckle resonating from him as he watched her be taken so much by him, all in response to a single kiss.

‘Here, and now?’ He mused.

With large, wondrous eyes she gazed at him, truly wanting to know,

“ Is it wrong?” She airily questioned him.

Was it wrong to already want more?

Was it wrong to be closer to him?

- Close enough for their skin to press against each other in a way that in the future, she would only remember being with him, and no one else.

‘What if, the only thing I want to make sure stays with me, is you?’

“Adam...I'll always be bare for you,” she said as she fisted her button-up shirt, giving it a rough pull to its right side, “I always have been,” she added with shame that quickly subsided.

Immediately, the blouse opened up, it’s little, clear buttons tearing off from their sewed spots, providing him a clear view of her heaved chest clothed only with a thin, cotton bra.

" Whenever you touch me...I feel warm." She confessed, letting him know that even the little brush ups they had left her yearning. “It’s been too long since I first discovered...” she then trailed off before swallowing thickly,

" I feel it here …" she said softly as her hand fell down to her wildly thudding heart, “Always here,” she expressed with certainty, facing him with an open heart,

"...and here…" she continued, gliding it down to her abdomen, "Here I feel warm, and nervous …I feel all the butterflies go wild." She said with a small, giggle while seeing him entranced by her, his eyes stuck to her moving hand.

" And then here… I feel warm here too…" she said whilst it traveled down further, right above a private, little spot that was still fully clothed.

“Especially now,” She informed him. “I was so ashamed before, but if you feel the same way about me, then, isn’t it right?” She questioned him.

" Do you feel too, Adam?" She said with a heavy breath, her hands then pressed against his chest, slowly dipping down as she peered up at him,

“Do I make you feel warm too?” She then asked him, still glancing at him, her hands falling down lower, running over his hardened length, while all the while she audaciously looked up to him,

“Adam?” she said again, her voice soft and low, holding a light husk to it.

“ What are you really asking me ?” He said softly.

She seemed to think long and hard, her lips pressed together before she shook her head, " Do you love me?" She asked him, clear as day to where he could make no mistake on what he'd heard, and there could be no misunderstanding.

Why hold back?

Why waste time?

‘Please just tell me,’

“My warmth… it's because of love. It is love. For some reason, it’s always been. " she explained. “Somehow, I ended up falling in love with a man whose identity was a mystery.

- A man who I knew essentially nothing about.” she confessed. “I've felt so stupid... Like such a fool for doing so, but I couldn't help it,” She added.

“ You told me there are things you can tell me, and this...This is something I should know,

So can you answer me? Can you tell me...Do you love me?” She asked pleadingly, wanting to know, much more, desperate to hear the truth.

“ Your awfully bold,” he said while amused, “I guess I’m just finding this side of you,” he added. “ Shame on me for assuming I knew everything about you, “ He added with a short mutter.

“I guess there are some things you have been keeping from me,” He told her with the same enjoyment.

‘ And all this time I thought I was the only one to hold back. I assumed I would have had to have been patient with you,

but you’re the one touching me…

Tempting me… going as far as to say you love me before I even had the chance to show you,’ he went on.

“You're putting me to shame sweetheart,” he chuckled, lips aimed, soon falling over her sweet lips, soon willing to claim every patch of skin.

“There are a lot of things I can’t tell you,” he told her again, “ And there isn’t much I can do to change that,” he revealed to her,

“ but it’s because I feel the same way, because I also love you,” he told her.

“I have, and if it hasn’t been obvious to you before, I’ll make sure you don’t doubt it now or later.” He guaranteed her.

‘By just knowing my name I’m at a disadvantage,’ He thought while pressing his forehead to hers,

‘But I can’t help but trust you, enough to love you,

enough to give you one of my secrets,’

“- Of course I do.” He told her, for once, giving his heart a voice.

‘If we share the same feeling, then somehow, in some way,

It’s right as it should be.’ She mused, her arms wrapped around him as he pulled her into the vacant room near them.

OPP I FORGOT THEY WERE OUTSIDE.

Good lord she did that outside LOL.

BAD (F/N) !!!!!

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the-quiet-winds · 3 years ago

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The Gravity of Tempered Grace (part six)

[part one] - [part two] - [part three] - [part four] - [part five]

[Part 6: When We Live Such Fragile Lives]

The Life and Times of Jane the Queen, Chapter 7 - The Maid of Honor

“In 1532, Jane was promoted to maid-of-honor in the court of Queen Catherine, where she had served as early as 1527. The two were quite close - both were devoted Catholics, even as Catholicism in was falling out of favor in England, which brought them together, even as Jane served Catherine.

Jane’s sister Elizabeth also served Anne Boleyn, remaining loyal to her until Anne’s execution. Due to Jane’s own loyalty to Catherine and her daughter Mary, Jane did not bring Elizabeth into her own household when she became queen.”

Cathy and Catherine exchange no words as they race up the stairs and split off different directions down the hall.

Catherine barges into Anne’s bedroom, where the woman was starfished out on the bed, and shakes her awake. “Don’t make a sound,” she whispers as soon as she sees Anne’s eyes open. “Henry is here.”

Anne, still half asleep, looks alarmed. “Here?” She whispers back.

Catherine nods. “He’s here for Jane. I don’t think he would expect all of us to attack.”

Anne clambers out of bed, but keeps her footsteps silent as she follows Catherine into the hall, where Cathy and a somewhat-awake Anna are standing.

Catherine jerks her head in the direction of Kat’s bedroom, and Anne takes the initiative to wake her cousin.

“Kitty,” she whispers, “Kitty wake up. Janey’s in trouble.”

Kat’s eyes shoot open, but no sound leaves her mouth, even though Anne’s shadowed face lingering inches from her own was definitely enough to justify a squeak.

She and Anne return to the hall, and the house is still silent, everyone waiting for the explosion from downstairs.

But they all hear nothing.

No words spoken, no sounds of distress, just nothingness.

On silent feet, they begin to slowly descend the stairs, but the space Jane had occupied at the front door is now empty.

The door is closed, the lights are all off, and it’s almost as if Jane was never there in the first place.

Just as Cathy turns to the others, a small lamp by the couch flickers on.

The sight waiting for them makes Kat almost gag.

Henry is lounging on the sofa, one arm propped on the back cushion, with Jane curled up against him, her head resting on his chest. They almost look like a picture-perfect couple from those romantic comedies the queens sometimes watched when there was nothing else on late at night. They look like they’re just head-over-heels for each other, except when Henry turns to the ones intruding his precious moment, there is nothing but malice in his eyes.

“Do you mind?” He asks, and if he finds the appalled looks of his ex-wives amusing, he doesn’t let it show. “I am having a moment here with my love.”

“We know about the heart,” Catherine says boldly, stepping in front of the others. “We know you’re just controlling her.”

“Controlling her?” Henry repeats incredulously. He laughs. “Dear, you’ve been reading too much of this world’s fiction.”

“Enough of the games, Henry,” Anne warns, trying to seem imposing in her diminutive frame. “Let Jane go.”

Henry turns to the peaceful woman next to him. “Do you want me to leave?”

In her blissful haze, Jane shakes her head.

“Now, could you all please leave? It’s been five hundred years since I’ve seen my wife, I’d like to catch up with her.”

At the way he spat the word ‘wife’, how he possessively holds Jane, and Jane’s nearly drunken demeanor, all hell breaks loose.

It isn’t clear who lunges where and who grabs who, but at some point Jane is wrestled away from Henry and the former king is on the floor.

“Where is it, Henry?” Cathy demands. “Where is Jane’s heart?”

He gets to his feet slowly, almost as if for dramatic effect. The light from the lamp catches his face in shadows, and the womanizing king they all remembered is truly standing before them once again.

“Now ladies,” he hisses, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Drop the act,” Kat spits, “where is it?!”

“Watch your tongue, woman. You forget who you’re speaking to.”

“You are no more a king than we are here,” Catherine says, stepping in front of Kat protectively. “You are just as mortal as us. So tell us - where is her heart?”

She’s nose-to-nose with him now, and the tension in the room is so thick you can almost taste it.

“Do you really want to test me?” He warns softly. “I may not be king anymore, but I have other ways of putting you in your place.”

Catherine almost smirks. “Is that a threat?”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re outnumbered here, Henry,” Anne says. “It’s five to one. You can’t win against all of us.”

He narrows his eyes at her, and, oddly, he chuckles. “My, my, I always knew you were short-tempered, but now you’re just… short.”

Anna has to hold Anne back at that, and the former king just laughs again. “Wow, I never thought I’d miss any of you, other than Jane, of course.” He glances to the blonde woman, sitting on the floor with Cathy, incredibly vacant. “But I’ve certainly missed your fire, and tenacity, and,” he leans slightly, catching Kat in his gaze, “other talents.”

God above, Catherine wants to strangle him.

“Why are you even here, anyway?” She demands. “You have Jane’s heart, can’t you bring her to wherever you were?”

“Well what’s the fun in that?” Henry asks. “Then I wouldn’t get to see the look on all your faces when you see me take what’s mine.”

“She doesn’t belong to you,” Anna snarls. “This isn’t our time, anymore. Women aren’t their husband’s property. She doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”

“You may be right about that, Anna,” Henry says. “I don’t own her. But you’re all also right about something else. I do have her heart.”

There’s a cloth bag sitting by the couch, nondescript and nearly invisible, which Henry picks up carefully.

He reaches in, and pulls out a heart.

Jane’s heart.

It isn’t nearly what anyone had expected - it doesn’t have veins running all over it, or a faint sheen of blood - it’s just red. Bright red. Almost glowing red.

“You caught me,” he says, but he’s smirking.

“Give that back,” Catherine demands.

“How many times do I have to say no before you’ll stop?”

“As many as it takes,” Anne says.

“You all are quite committed to this,” Henry comments softly, as if surprised.

“Jane’s our family, and we won’t let you torture her anymore!” Kat says, defiant and strong as she stands next to Anne.

Henry regards them all, scanning each face thoroughly, then looking to Jane and Cathy on the floor.

“Jane,” he says shortly, “come here.”

Without hesitation, Jane gets to her feet and moves to his side.

A cold, harsh shiver runs down Catherine’s spine at the sight of her friend, her once trusted confidant, so helpless against the evil man before them.

“These ladies want me to leave you, do you want that?”

Barely, Jane shakes her head.

“Come on, Jane,” Anna pleads. “Snap out of it. Henry’s controlling you. He doesn’t want what’s best for you. He wants to force you into a relationship.”

“Jane, you deserve better than that,” Catherine continues. “You deserve to have your own adventures and be your own person.”

“He says he loves me,” Jane whispers.

Anne pipes in next. “He says that Jane, but all he’s done is manipulate and control you. That isn’t love, no matter how you look at it!”

“Jane,” Kat adds softly, clearly quite uncomfortable with the circumstances, “he doesn’t really love you. If he loved you, he wouldn’t be forcing you into situations without your say.”

“And he wouldn’t feed you lies,” Cathay finally contributes. “We love you, Jane. We want you to be able to feel again, and do whatever weird things you like to do.”

There’s a tense moment, one where the world stands completely still, and smile begins to creep on Henry’s face.

But then Jane inhales sharply, and her eyes are more alert than anyone has seen in this life.

“Jane?” Anne asks.

“What is happening?” Jane demands, looking wildly between her fellow queens and Henry. Her gaze finds the heart in his hand, and she lunges for it.

He pulls it out of reach, though. “Back up, Jane.”

Unable to resist, even as her face contorts with frustration, Jane complies, taking several stilted steps back until she’s among the others.

“I see being in the same room with your heart has woken you up,” Henry muses. He clicks his tongue. “How unfortunate. Just means that now I’ll have to kill you.”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #katherine howard #anne boleyn #catherine parr #anne of cleves #julie writes #the gravity of tempered grace

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Riding High

Ch16: Roast Beef, Cake and Ponies

Chapter Summary: It’s Mary’s birthday…and Evelyn is back in town.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+).

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: A nice, fluffy chapter for Friss after the heartache of the last one!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 15

"How does the Waldorf Astoria grab you?" Frank asked, looking up from the screen he had open on his phone.

Fliss, who was busy at the dining table with her nose buried in diagrams and goodness knows what else she had spread over the surface for lesson planning, glanced over to where he was sat on the new sofa, watching her over the back of it.

"What?"

"For New York"

"Frank, I'm not following you, babe…"

"I said we were gonna go this December. Take Mary for the snow." He looked at her, "did you forget?"

"Actually I did..." she said with a chuckle as she dropped the pen she was holding "but that aside, it's only just gone May!"

"Yeah but I was talking to Simon and he says it gets booked up pretty quickly so thought I'd start looking.” He shrugged "There’s a pretty good offer on at the Waldorf. Start of December, Thursday to a Sunday…taking her outta school shouldn’t be a problem…”

He stood up and made his way over and handed her the phone, leaning over her from behind with his palms flat on the table as she scanned the info. He glanced down and saw her face split into a smile.

"It’s a dream isn’t it?" She turned her head to look at him. "To go to New York and stay in the Plaza or here..."

"Shall I book it? He asked and she bit her lip and gave a little nod. With a smile he took the phone from her and dropped a kiss to her lips.

"How much is it?" she asked

"Doesn’t matter..."

"Frank..."

"Fliss..." he mimicked her and she rolled her eyes and Frank met her look with one of his own, raising an eyebrow watching her carefully. Since their bare all conversation a few weeks ago, things had been a little different between the pair of them. Not bad different, quite the opposite. Fliss seemed less tentative towards certain things now, she didn’t try to hide the way she was feeling when certain things made her uncomfortable and Frank didn’t get or feel as frustrated when she thanked him or praised him for doing things that to him didn’t warrant it.

Greg had been amazing, not that Frank had expected anything else, and been nothing but patient and sympathetic with Fliss. He’d written the Victim Impact statement for her, taken her through it, listened and made the amendments she wanted before he’d filed it on her behalf, assuring her that her part in the process was now over and there was nothing more she could do. That in itself had been a huge weight off Fliss’ shoulders, and she admitted to Frank that the thought of John getting out made her more angry than scared, which Frank was secretly pleased about. He didn’t want her to be scared, at all.

It had been the first big hurdle their relationship had reached, and Frank was both relieved and pleased to see they’d made it through, and although he didn’t think it had been possible, he felt even closer to her now. And he wanted to spoil her. Just because he could. And because she fucking deserve it.

“Come on, let me treat you…" he coaxed, and when she gave him a small smile he mimicked her, knowing he’d won her round.

"Ok." She said smiling "but I'm paying for our take out tonight."

"Deal."

Frank straightened up, phone clutched in his hand as he headed over the drawer in the kitchen that held his wallet. Grabbing his card he leaned on the unit, keying in the information the website booking form required and a few minutes later it was done.

"All booked" he smiled and she looked at him. "We fly out at 10:25 the Thursday morning, home at 15:45 on the Sunday..."

"Why do they always have stupid times like that?" Fliss asked "like 10:25...why not 10:30?"

Frank shrugged "No idea."

Fliss paused and then gave a little squeak and pushed her chair back before she skipped over to him and threw herself into his arms. With a chuckle he caught her, hands wrapping around her back.

"New York, in the run up to Christmas!" She beamed as he kissed her softly. "I can’t believe it"

"Well you better as I'm gonna need to get some warm clothes...for the first time in years." He mused and Fliss laughed as her feet hit the floor again.

“We can get matching shit Christmas sweaters with huge reindeers or something else equally as gaudy on the front.” she grinned.

“No.” Frank shook his head

“Oh come on…” Fliss teased. “You wear hideous shirts all the time, what’s the difference? Or would you prefer a jumper with a giant palm tree or a yacht on it instead?” “Fuck you.” He shot back and she gave a loud laugh, her head falling back slightly before she recovered and grinned at him.

"Gonna tell Mary?" She asked and he nodded.

"On her birthday. Can be part of her present."

"What can?" The girl asked.

"Well if I told you that it wouldn't be a surprise would it?" Frank looked at her.

"Guess not." Mary shrugged. "What time are we seeing Evelyn tomorrow?"

"Lunch time" Frank said.

“And then after you gonna come help me with Monty?” Fliss looked at Mary.

Mary nodded “Is his leg better?” “Almost.” Fliss assured her. “He needs another week or so rest I think. But I think his days as a riding school pony are over.” “Are you still going to have to rehome him?” Mary’s voice dropped at little and Fliss took a deep breath.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to, but he can’t cope with doing lessons every day. It would be nice for him to get a home with a family who can love him has a pet and just ride him a few times a week…but I’ll see.” “You ready to go to Roberta’s?” Frank looked at Mary and she perked up a little and nodded. “Ok, I’ll walk you down.”

“Night Lissy!” Mary grinned, heading over to give her a hug before they both headed out of the door.

Fliss looked down at her plans and then deciding she was done, gathered them all up and stuck them back in her folder, clearing the table. She really did need to give some more thought to what she was going to do with Monty. She had a soft spot for the animal but knew that he wasn’t going to be able to cope with the pressures of being a riding school pony anymore. The thing was, at almost nineteen he was still sprightly and far too active to be put out to pasture. The kindest thing to do would be to find a home for him, a little boy or a little girl to love him as a pet…and then it came to her. A simple solution, that was a win-win for everyone involved.

Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

“Hell no!” was Frank’s response when she ambushed him with her idea the minute he walked in the door, flopping onto the sofa next to him. “Absolutely fucking not!”

“Oh come on!” Fliss looked at him. “It won’t cost anything.” “You said yourself you can’t afford stables to be clogged up.” “We can build him a smaller one, round the back on the end of my private block.” Fliss shrugged

“By we, you mean me…” “And Dad.”

Frank sighed “You’d still be out of pocket…you already refuse to take money for her lessons as it is.” “Yeah, because your my boyfriend and I’m not taking money off you for Mary’s lessons.” “Exactly, so how much would you be missing out on if you were renting the stable to someone else? And don’t lie as I’ll look it up on your website.” Frank shot her a look.

“For a pony his size, about Forty-bucks a week, but it doesn’t cost me that. Anyway, it doesn’t matter as I’m not I’m not gonna be taking money off you for her pony!” “It’s not her pony.” Frank rolled his eyes.

“No, but he could be…” Fliss grinned.

“Fucks sake…” Frank groaned.

“That a yes?”

“No, it’s a for fucks sake. You’re exasperating at times.”

She paused for a moment before she bit her lip and crawled across him, straddling his lap, grinning as he looked up at her, eyebrows raised.

“Is it a yes yet?” she asked, rolling her pelvis down, making his breath hitch as he felt the familiar arousal blooming in his crotch.

“Are you seriously trying to seduce me into letting you give Mary a pony?” he snorted.

“Is it working?”

“No…”

“Really?” she asked. “Because the bulge in your pants is telling me otherwise.” “Stop it.” he warned her.

“Stop what?” She asked, rolling her hips again.

“I mean it Lissy…” his voice was low.

She did it again, and he took a deep breath before he quickly pivoted them so she was led underneath him, causing her to shriek in surprise. She grinned up at him before his lips crashed onto hers. Fliss wrapped her arms round his neck as his hands crept to her hips, settling just under the hem of her top as she placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw through his short beard. She broke away this time to breathe, head resting on the arm of the couch and he dropped his head, pausing his lips inches from her neck.

“You gonna shut up about the damned pony?” he asked.

“No.” she said stubbornly.

“Alright…” Frank sighed, and she gave a little giggle as he pressed his mouth to her neck. He gripped her hips again and they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him and they both groaned slightly at the contact. At the noise Frank pulled back to stare at her again.

“Gonna shut up yet?” “Make me.” she teased, pushing her head upwards, lips crashing onto his and her hands slid under his t- shirt. His muscles twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails caused him to groan as desire lanced through his entire body like red hot pokers.

“Oh, sweetheart…challenge accepted…” he muttered he grasped the bottom of her top. She moved her arms and sat up slightly as he pulled it up over her head, her hair falling around her shoulders, his lips catching hers as he gently slipped one strap of her bra down at a time placing a soft kiss on each of her shoulders. Her breasts spilled over the tops of the cups and his groin twitched, the crotch of his jeans now painfully tight. Her hands moved to the hem of his T-shirt and he held his arms for her to yank it off. Once he was free he kissed her again his rough hands gently sliding up her rib cage to her chest, delicately squeezing and kneading the soft flesh and white lace, before his hand slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs. She groaned gently, arching her back as his groin bumped against hers. He was gently at first, before his rocking became harder, and Fliss buried her fingers in his hair, pulling, hard, forcing his head back sharply. As she tugged he let out a low growl and when she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking as she watched him, his pupils blown so wide there was hardly any blue left.

The rhythm of his hips was growing more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate. "More," she moaned into his mouth, and he obliged in the best of way moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her through the barrier of their clothes in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. As he continued to rub against her, pushing her into the soft cushions of the sofa, it wasn’t long before the tell-tale tightening across his lower stomach warned him he was fast approaching his release

"Lissy, tell me your close baby, please?" Frank begged because of course he wanted to get her there first. He had to smirk at the fact he’d finally shut her up, as it was all she could do to moan brokenly, her words no longer forming coherently, and she gave a nod as his mouth fell to that spot on her neck which drove her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more thrusts of his hips against hers and she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair as the lights exploded in front her eyes and she felt the coil in her stomach unravelling as she came hard underneath him, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Frankie…”

He loved it when she called him that, her name for him, the name that no-one called him other than her. It tumbled from her lips so easily, and seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy. His head dropped to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair as they both breathed deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies. Eventually both of them evened out and he raised his head to look at her, to find her smirking a little, her eyes twinkling with what looked like humour.

“What?” he managed to ask, his nose sliding against hers.

“So, about Monty…”

“For fucks…fine, she can have the damned pony.” he groaned, dropping his head to her chest and she grinned, as one of her hands ran up and down his spine causing the muscles in his back and shoulders to gently twitch at her touch.

“I’m starving.” she said, as he raised his head to look at her.

“I’ll order food.” he said, “Then I think I should probably shower before it arrives…seeing as I just shot my load in my pants like a fourteen year old kid.”

“I’ll go start it running.” she bit her lip and he grinned at her as he pushed himself up off the couch before offering her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up, dropping a kiss to her forehead as his gaze once more dropped to her chest. With a certain glint in her eye she turned around and sauntered to the doorway before she stopped, and turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Best hurry before I use all the hot water.”

As she walked off down the hall, her hips swaying slightly, Frank was hard again like it had never left. Grabbing his phone he ordered the food before he shot off to join her.

***** “Evelyn.” he greeted his mother as she stood up from the table she was sat at which was outside the back of the small café bar, overlooking the beach.

“Hello Frank, hello Mary.” she greeted them both.

“Hi.” Mary smiled, settling into a seat and Frank took the one next to her. After an awkward moment of small talk, the waitress arrived and Frank ordered himself a beer and a soda for Mary, Evelyn taking an ice tea.

“So, how have you been?” Evelyn asked, her question directed to Mary, which was fine by Frank.

“Good.” Mary said and she launched into an explanation of everything that had happened in her life since she had last seen Evelyn as Frank had taken her home from Tampa. Frank was listening, vaguely, simply observing how easy Mary found it to simply forgive and forget everything that had happened. But then again, she was merely eight years old (well, as of tomorrow anyway) and that was the beauty and innocence that came with childhood he supposed.

“And then we moved into the new house.” Mary said as their drinks arrived. ”Fliss stays with us a lot, she practically lives with us now…Frank says she will do properly at some point but not yet.”

“You moved?” Evelyn looked at Frank who nodded.

“Part of the conditions of me getting Guardianship.” he said simply.

“Have you moved far or…” “It’s on the same park as our old one but it’s bigger” Mary answered for him. “My room is awesome, it’s blue and I have a cabin bed with a desk underneath it and a big TV.” “Still fixing boats?” Evelyn asked and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Mother.” “I’m just asking.” she held her hands up.

“Yes, I am. But I’m working for someone now. A friend of Fliss’ dad, he has a repair-shop attached to a sales place. Good wage, health insurance.” he added, unable to stop himself and he saw his mother’s mouth twitch.

“I’m impressed. I never thought I’d see the day”

At that point, Mary announced she was hungry and the three of them studied the menus, before Mary decided on a cheeseburger and fries. Frank opted for a steak hoagie whilst Evelyn went for a salad

“How long are you in town for?” Frank asked her as soon as their order was taken

“Until Monday…” Evelyn said “I thought, if it’s ok that is, that maybe I could take you all to dinner tomorrow for Mary’s birthday”

Ok, so that was unexpected.

“We can’t.” Mary said “We’re going to Verity’s like we do every Sunday. That’s Fliss’ mom.” she explained “We play in the pool and then she does a big Sunday dinner and makes ice cream sundaes or pies…but tomorrow she’s doing me a special birthday cake.”

“That sounds very nice.” Evelyn replied

“You should come. Roberta is….” Mary added.

Oh, for fucks sake…

“Mary…” Frank began but she turned and shrugged at him, recognising his warning tone.

“What? Verity says it’s my special birthday dinner so I could pick what I wanted to eat and I could bring someone…”

“Yeah and you chose to take Roberta…” Frank looked at her “Verity already does enough for you…”

“It’s okay.” Evelyn said, hastily cutting him off. “Thank you for the invite Mary but, well let’s see shall we?”

The rest of the afternoon was reasonably pleasant, well as pleasant as it could be. Mary told Evelyn all about what she was doing at School and then Evelyn filled Frank in a little bit on what she’d been doing with Diane’s work. Frank could tell she was surprised when he told her he’d been following the process on the internet, and when the time came to say goodbye, he promised he’d call her and arrange for her to be able to see Mary at least for some time tomorrow so she could give her the gifts she had bought.

Frank drove them to the yard and Mary shot out as soon as the truck had stopped, barrelling round the corner to go and see Monty. Fliss was busy teaching in the paddock and Frank spotted that Bill was in the Office, already screwing up one of the shelves that Frank had made ready to put up.

“Hey Bill.” he said, “You know I was gonna do that…” “Oh it’s no bother.” Bill smiled, “I’ve been fixing the door on the back barn anyway so…” “I was gonna do that too.” Frank chuckled.

“Yeah, well I told Fliss to stop asking you.” Bill shrugged, marking a spot on the wall to fix the bracket to “You work enough, weekends should be free.” Frank smiled, and then stepped forward to help Bill hold up the wooden plank whilst he made sure it was straight.

“How did it go with your mother?” Bill asked.

“Surprisingly okay.” Frank said “She was reasonable and seemed genuinely interested in how Mary was doing.” “She in town long?” “Until Monday. “Frank said.

“She coming to dinner tomorrow?” Bill asked, and Frank frowned, his head cocking to one side.

“You been talking to Mary by any chance?” “No, how can I?” Bill asked, looking at him “You just got here.” “Fair point.” Frank conceded.

“Why do you ask?” “Because that’s exactly what Mary did. Invited her. Thankfully Evelyn was tactful enough to put her off but…” “You should let her come.” Bill said.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” Frank shook his head.

“Why?” Bill pressed.

“I just…” Frank took a deep breath “Her seeing Mary is one thing, integrating herself in to our lives is another.”

“Can I give you a bit of advice son?” Bill looked at him, and when Frank didn’t protest he continued “Don’t cut your nose off to spite your face. I know you owe her nothing, but if she’s reaching out here. Maybe think about giving it a whirl, test how serious she actually is and take the olive branch. That or look at it as giving her enough rope to hang herself. Either way, you win.” Frank didn’t really have an answer. And he didn’t until much later that evening when they were all sat outside the back of Bill and Verity’s with a few drinks.

And, of course, when he asked Verity if she minded accommodating one more person, she assured him she didn’t.

**** Naturally Mary was up at the crack of dawn the following morning, unwrapping a pile of gifts that Frank and Fliss had bought her. Some books, DVDs, new clothes, a pair of new sneakers and then after breakfast Frank took her out into the yard where she squealed when she spotted the new blue and pink BMX she’d asked him for. After she donned her helmet and did a few rides up and down the drive, demanding to know how long she’d need stabilisers for, Fliss emerged from the annex, Thor at her feet and gave Frank a wink.

“Mary, Joanna just called…” she said “I need to pop up to the stables for an hour. Wanna come?” “Yeah!” She grinned, and immediately set off biking back towards the house.

Frank announced that he’d come too and Mary didn’t’ give it a second thought. They drove to the yard and climbed out, Mary shooting off straight to see Monty.

Frank took Fliss’ hand in his as they followed, and finally caught up with her as she was stood, her mouth hanging open at the fact that Monty’s door had a huge Happy Birthday banner on it, and the white pony wore a bow around his neck. He turned his head to face them, completely nonplussed by all the fuss.

“I don’t…why is he…” Mary turned to Fliss then looked at Frank and then back to the pony “Is he wishing me happy birthday?” “Kind of.” Fliss said, smiling. “Open the card.” She grabbed the card that was tacked to the door and her eyes roved the writing inside. Immediately they widened and filled with tears as she looked up at the two adults in front of her.

“He’s mine?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded, a lump forming in his own throat at the sight of how happy she was.

“For real?”

“For real.” he assured her.

“Like, really? Mine? No one else is sharing him anymore?” “No one else.” Frank shook his head.

She gave a loud squeal and threw herself at Frank, wrapping her arms around his legs. “Thank you!” “Happy birthday Stack.” he smiled, bending down to hug her back.

“You’re the best uncle ever…” “Makes a change.” he muttered, “And this was Fliss’ idea…you have her to thank.”

“Took me ages to persuade him…” Fliss grinned and Frank snorted, as Mary moved over and gave Fliss a huge hug

“You’re the best too.” she smiled, before the attention turned back to her new pet.

They spent an hour or so at the yard, Mary doing her first jobs as Monty’s owner, mucking his stable out, grooming him, filling his hay net up. Eventually they dragged her away after Fliss and Frank both assured her now that she had her pony she could come after school three nights a week and then both days at weekends to take care of him and ride when she wanted to. They picked Roberta up on the way home, and then once Mary had unwrapped her gift from Roberta which was another large lego set much to her delight, the three adults sat outside with a beer, Mary scribbling away in the new journal they’d bought her, no doubt writing about Monty, and then Frank received a call from his mother to tell him she was at the gate.

Fliss, Roberta and Mary headed over to the main house whilst Frank walked down to collect Evelyn. He didn’t miss the appraising look she was taking at the property as they walked back down the drive, Frank taking the bag of gifts off Evelyn politely. He introduced her to Bill, who was stood outside with Mary admiring her bike, and then Frank led her into the large entrance area of the old farmhouse.

Once the ‘pleasantries’, if you could call them that were over and Evelyn had met Verity and been handed a glass of wine, they all headed out onto the raised decking that overlooked the pool.

“This is…nice.” Evelyn said, as she took in the surroundings “I expected something different.” “In what way?” Verity asked, and Frank didn’t miss the way the woman bristled as his mother’s tone.

“Oh, just, well, seeing where Frank lives…”

“Excuse me?” Verity looked at the woman, frowning.

“What my mother means…” Frank butt in, glaring at Evelyn “is thank you for inviting her over.”

“Yes, I didn’t mean anything by it, I haven’t actually seen Frank’s new place yet.” Evelyn smiled, the expression not meeting her eyes “And, thank you of course.” “I didn’t invite you.” Verity shrugged “Mary did. And as it’s my little pud’s birthday who am I to argue…speaking of which, where is she?”

“Here!” Mary said, running out of the house, Bill following “I was just showing Bill my new bike!” she ran to Verity and gave her a hug and Verity smiled, wrapping her arms around her.

It didn’t escape Frank’s notice the way his mother was watching the pair of them, as Mary pulled back and asked if she could go in the pool.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” Bill cut in. “Well, that’s what my nose is telling me anyway. Maybe later.”

“On a full stomach?” Evelyn looked at Frank “is that really a good idea?”

“Hasn’t killed her yet.” Verity shot back. And Evelyn turned her eyes to the woman again.

There was a moment’s frosty silence, and Fliss turned her eyes to her dad, begging him to help. And he did. “Shall we go in?” Bill asked, “Someone has presents to open!” “Oh, yes!” Verity smiled, frostiness completely gone “Come on!”

Mary gave a squeal and Bill laughed, swinging her up easily onto his shoulders as the 3 of them headed up the steps. Frank followed behind, falling into step with his mother as Fliss hung back slightly, turning to Roberta when the woman spoke to her.

“Remind me who thought this was gonna be a good idea?”

Five minutes or so later, the Gallagher living room was on its way to being a mass of shredded wrapping paper, Mary sat in the middle of another pile of gifts which were from Bill and Verity, and also Evelyn. Evelyn had brought Mary some new Maths books, which Frank refrained from rolling his eyes at, and then Mary opened her mouth.

“I don’t read a lot of maths books now in my spare time, we’re reading Harry Potter.” she mused. “We’re on the fourth one now.”

“But they’ll be good for school.” Frank looked at her sternly.

“Yes, thank you Evelyn.” Mary corrected herself. Evelyn smiled and told her she was welcome, as Mary moved on to the next set, which Frank was surprised to see was a pile of seven Leather bound Children’s classics.

“I bought your mother something similar when she was your age.” Evelyn explained “I thought you might like them.” Mary’s eyes widened as she ran her hands over the cover of “Black Beauty” and looked up at Evelyn. “I do, thank you.” Evelyn had also placed a few hundred dollars in her card for her to spend on whatever she wanted, which she grinned at and informed everyone she was going to be spending it on new things for Monty.

“Who’s Monty?” Evelyn asked.

“My pony!” Mary grinned “Fliss and Frank gave him to me this morning.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows raised slightly and she smiled “How nice…”

“Did you ever have a pony?” Mary asked.

“No.” Evelyn said, “But Frank and your mother’s Step-Father now has several.” Frank smiled, shaking his head slightly, the thought of that still amused him.

“Does he show jump?” Mary pressed.

“I believe he does western riding.” Evelyn shrugged “Although I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Mary nodded, taking the information in before she looked at Fliss “We should do Western Riding.”

“One day, maybe.” Fliss mused “I mean I do have the boots and the hat…”

Mary nodded “Yup, you do…” before she reached over to Bill and Verity’s pile, picking out the longest one. Her eyes widened as she unwrapped the box, and glanced up at Fliss before she pulled the lid off and removed one of the long De-Niro riding boots. They were patent snake-skin effect leather, with a band of pink glitter around the tops.

“They’re…” Mary’s mouth flopped open “They’re like yours but pink!” she looked at Fliss, then turned to Bill and Verity.

“Fliss told us you liked hers.” Verity beamed at her. “So now you have your own pair.” After a scramble, during which Frank told her to calm down about fifty times, she soon had them on and Frank helped her with the zips as they were still a little stiff.

“You’ll need to wear them in like you did with your short ones.” Fliss said, “But these are ONLY for riding in. Use your other ones for yard work and stuff.”

“Damned girl!” Robert grinned as Mary did a cat walk of sorts, strutting down the centre of the room “Think I should get myself a pair…” “You don’t’ ride!” Mary gave Roberta a withering look.

“No but they’d look good with some jeans.”

As Mary began to point out to Roberta that she was being ridiculous, Frank looked at Bill raising an eyebrow. He knew exactly how much those boots had cost, as he had been looking into getting her a pair himself but then she’d told him she wanted a bike.

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in telling you off for how much you’ve spent on those is there?” he asked.

“Nope.” Bill smirked “Don’t suppose there is.”

“She’s worth it.” Verity smiled.

Mary flopped down and opened the rest of her gifts which consisted of her own copies of the Harry Potter films on DVD and some vouchers for the Tack Shop and a book about horse breeds.

“Thank you!” she said, smiling as she stood up and launched at Bill who gave her a hug before she moved to Verity.

“You’re very welcome Pudding!” Verity smiled, brushing her hair back. “Now, someone said something about wanting a roast beef dinner!”

“Can I help?” Mary asked.

“Of course you can.” Verity said, and she stood up.

“Boots.” Frank said, and Mary stopped

“But I need to wear them in.” “Not in here…” “Frank, she’s fine.” Verity soothed him “They’re clean…not that I care, it all vacuums up.” Frank shook his head “You let her get away with murder.” Verity grinned “My prerogative as her Pseudo Nana.”

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Evelyn suddenly spoke up. Frank glanced at her, noticing that her face was overly passive, a look she had often worn with him when he’d done something she disapproved of but was refraining from passing comment. Seems like Verity’s comment had had an effect on her, not that she had any right to be upset, mind.

“Course, out in the hall, second on the left.” Bill nodded and she made her way out of the room.

“She ok?” Fliss asked, looking at Frank.

“Who knows, she’s Evelyn.” he shrugged by means of an answer.

Half an hour later they were all seated round the large table, tucking into their roast Dinner. Mary’s plate was piled with her favourite things, beef, mash, 3 Yorkshire puddings, and broccoli all accompanied by what looked like enough gravy to fill a bath tub with. For once Verity had foregone insisting Mary eat more veg, because who wants veg on their birthday anyway?

The conversation was polite, Evelyn thanking Verity for her food and complementing her cooking. Fliss was pleased to see her mother softening slightly. Evelyn was a very sore subject to the woman, given what she’d put Frank through, but both Bill and Fliss had warned her previously that if Frank’s mother was going to be a fixture in Mary’s life going forward, then Verity needed to accept that.

“Did you manage to get that wardrobe up, son?” Bill asked looking at Frank who gave a chuckle as Fliss hit his arm.

“Eventually…once we realised someone was reading the instructions out wrong.” “I warned you.” Fliss shrugged. “You should have paid someone to come fit it.” “I managed fine once my narrator had sorted herself out.” he rolled his eyes.

“What is it about men and their insistence on being able to do everything themselves?” Roberta asked.

“I’ll remember that next time you ask me to come fix something in your apartment.” Frank pointed his fork at her.

“So, you said you haven’t seen Frank’s new place yet?” Verity asked Evelyn who shook her head in response. “Any particular reason or…”

“I’m actually allergic to cats so…” Verity made to say something else but one look from Bill stopped her dead and she nodded. “Well, if you can you should pop a Benadryl and go over. Bill and Frank did the work themselves, and they did a very good job.” “Yeah and now Frank says Fliss is filling it full of crap.” Mary supplied and Fliss turned to Frank, who groaned.

“Oh did he?” “No, that’s…all I said was that you were buying too many throw cushions and stuff…”

“It looked boring.” Fliss shrugged “Needed colour.”

“I agree.” Mary nodded

“Course you do.” Frank rolled his eyes.

“It was too grey, Frank.” Mary said, mimicking exactly what Fliss had said “The cushions and the rug look good.”

“Well when you move out and get your own apartment you can fill it with all the cushions you want.” Frank looked at her.

“I’m never moving out.” Mary shrugged.

“Oh, trust me. You are.” Frank teased “Soon as you’re 16 I’m packing your bags and you’re gone.” “Whatever.” Mary rolled her eyes at his empty threat “We all know that’s rubbish. You told me I’d have a home with you for life.” “Yeah well I changed my mind.” “You can move in with me baby!” Roberta looked at Mary who grinned.

“You want her you can have her.” Frank said “Be my guest.”

“Oh behave Frank.” Verity scoffed “We all know you’d fight tooth and nail to keep her with you…”

Fliss let out an inward groan and glared at her mother who scrunched her eyes closed in an ‘oh shit’ expression.

“I didn’t…” Verity began, before she shook her head “That’s not what I meant.” “It’s ok.” Evelyn looked at her. “You clearly have very strong opinions on the matter.” “Which she will be keeping to herself as it’s not the time or the place.” Fliss said, effectively ending the conversation “What’s done is done.” She felt Frank’s hand squeeze her knee under the table before he reached over for his glass of water.

“Did Mary tell you she’s going to Camp this summer?” Bill said, swiftly changing the subject.

“Camp?” Evelyn tuned to Mary who nodded “How…nice.”

Frank fought his desire to snort at his Mother’s expression, because he knew camping was her idea of hell.

“Yeah I’m going with scouts.” she said “We’re going to…err…what’s it called again?” “Sandkey Park.” Frank said “In Clearwater.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Mary said, swallowing another huge bite of food “We’re doing outdoor activities and water sports and stuff.” “How long for?” Evelyn asked.

“Five days.” Mary said “And then I’m staying with Verity and Bill for a weekend so Frank can take Fliss away on holiday whilst I’m gone.” “Anywhere nice?” Evelyn looked at Frank.

“Not decided yet have we?” Frank looked at Fliss who shook her head.

“And then we’re all going to New York in December.” Mary said, “ I can’t wait to see the Christmas Trees and lights and snow…” “You’ll love it.” Evelyn smiled “New York at Christmas is magical.” Ok, now that surprised Frank. “You’ve been?” he asked, frowning.

“Your father took me the first Christmas we moved to Boston.” she said, looking at Frank “Did I never tell you?” “No, you didn’t” Frank said “I always thought you hated Christmas.” “I hated it without your Father.” Evelyn corrected him, causing him to frown even more, before she hastily recovered herself. “Where are you staying?”

“The Waldorf.” Fliss said, and Evelyn nodded her head, clearly impressed.

“Your new job must be paying well.” “It keeps me afloat.” Frank said simply.

The rest of the meal passed in comfortable conversation, and once everyone was finished Verity stood up, announcing that it was time for some coffee and cake. “How do you take yours Evelyn?” Verity asked. “Black, no sugar thank you.” Evelyn replied. “I don’t know how people can drink it like that, I find it too bitter.” Roberta pulled a face.

“Me too.” Bill mused “Milk and two sugar kind of man.” “Well I find that taking it bitter helps me keep the mosquitos away.” Evelyn said, with a glance at Fliss, directly referencing their first ever conversation. Fliss choked slightly on her water and side-eyed Frank who was smirking into his glass. When Fliss looked back at Evelyn, she was surprised to see the woman was wearing an amused smile.

“Bit like Garlic keeps the Vampires away huh?” Roberta quipped.

“So that’s how to get rid of you!” Bill smirked, looking up at Verity who shot him a glare as she headed into the kitchen. Fliss got to her feet to help clear down the table along waving both Roberta and Evelyn back into their seats when they too rose to help and insisted that as guests they remained put.

An hour or so later after the candles had been blown out and the cake had been eaten, they all retired outside onto the decking, Mary finally getting her way and after a quick change taking a running jump into the pool. After a round of drinks, Evelyn announced that her car was here and that she should be leaving. After politely thanking them for their hospitality, she smiled and then Frank stood to walk her to the gate one Mary had bid her goodbye.

“They seem a nice family.” Evelyn smiled at him as they walked down the gravel Frank nodded “Yeah, they’re great. Brilliant with Mary too so…” “You seem happy Frank.”

“I am.” He nodded as he pressed the button on the gate to open it, revealing the silver Mercedes that was waiting.

“I’m glad.” she said, gently touching his arm. Frank glanced down at her hand before he looked at her, his eyebrow raised.

“You’re not going to try and hug me now are you?” he asked, a little playfully, but it was enough to make his point. That was the first motherly touch he’d felt from Evelyn in about 20 years.

“I don’t think we’re quite at that point, do you?” “Were we ever?”

“You’d be surprised.” she smiled at him “You were quite an affectionate little boy. Very like your father that way.”

Frank raised his eyebrows a little, as she stepped towards the car and he opened the door for her.

“You remind me a lot of him now.” she looked at Frank “Both in looks, personality, your mannerisms.”

“That why we don’t get along?” Frank asked as she climbed into the car.

“Who knows?” Evelyn said, with a slight smile “Thank you for this weekend. I’ll contact you about seeing her again soon if that’s ok.” Frank nodded “Like I said, as long as Mary’s happy then…”

With that he stepped back, closing the car door. He watched it drive off up the road before he turned and made his way back into the house, deciding that overall it hadn’t been that bad an afternoon.

**** “Stop bouncing on the bed.” Frank said sternly “It’s not a trampoline”

“It’s like one.” Mary replied.

“Yeah well a mine field is technically a field but I wouldn’t let you walk through one…”

Mary flopped down onto the bed “Sorry, I’m just so excited.” “I can tell, but it’s bed time. It’s already late…come on.”

She scrambled under the covers and Frank perched on the edge of the bed as Fliss popped her head in the door.

“Just going for a shower.” she smiled, walking into the room to pop a kiss onto Mary’s head “Night honey.” “Night Fliss, thank you for the best day ever.” “You’re welcome.” Fliss said, straightening up before she headed out of the room. “I wish Fliss was my mom.” Mary sighed, and Frank looked at her, frowning slightly. “I mean, I know my mom loved me but…I never knew her.” Frank sighed, and ran his hand over Mary’s head “I know, Stack, but…well, she would be very proud of you, you know that.” “It’s Mothers’ Day in a week.” Mary said “I heard Fliss talking to Verity about it before, asking her if there was anything she wanted.” she reached out, her hand grabbing Frank’s, her fingers playing with his “Do you think Fliss would mind if I made her a card and maybe got her some flowers?” “I’m sure she would be fine about it.” Frank felt his chest tightening. He hated how wise and old she acted at times. “Now come on, lights out and…try and worry about something else, like how much Monty shit you’re gonna be shovelling from now on.” “The best type of shit!” Mary grinned.

“I’ll let that one go because it’s your birthday.” he pointed at her “But repeat that again, I’ll hang you out of the window by your ears.” She giggled as he stood up and dropped a kiss to her head, before he made his way into the bedroom.

As soon as Fliss was out of the shower, Frank was on her. His hands and mouth roving every bit of her body as he laid her on the bed. He was needy, wanting to feel grounded after the, frankly, surreal weekend he’d had and she was his home, the one person he knew he could rely on to keep him sane, and feeling safe. It was intense, and when it was finally over, they both collapsed, at the complete wrong end of the bed, tangled under a blanket, neither having mustered the energy or the desire to move.

As good as their sex was, no scratch that, as mind blowing as their sex was, he knew that Fliss craved the after moments just as much, where Frank would simply tenderly hold her, snuggle her, kiss her...treat her like a human instead of some kind of object there merely for his gratification and he was happy to oblige. They lay together, Franks left arm resting under Fliss' neck as her long hair spilled in a mass of waves off the edge of the bed as her face rested mere inches from Frank's, a dazed smile on her features. He smiled softly back at her, his right hand reaching up from where it had been resting on her hip to gently cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"What you thinking about Sailor?" She asked softly, looking onto his ocean blue eyes as he took a deep breath.

"How lucky I am." He replied.

She gave a soft chuckle as she scooted a bit closer to him, nuzzling her head under his chin. His arms both moved to wrap around her and cradle her close as he dropped a kiss to her head.

"Do you think Mary had a good day?" Fliss asked softly and Frank made a noise of affirmation in his throat.

"Are you kidding?" He looked down at her. “She got a new bike, her own pony, a library's worth of books, a tonne of money, a trip to New York, a ridiculously expensive pair of riding boots, which by the way your parents are still in big trouble for, and to top it all off she ate enough cake and roast beef to feed a small army. I'd say she’s had a fucking amazing day."

"I think it went ok with Evelyn too. Well in that no one drowned one another"

Frank gave a huff of a laugh as his hand ran up and down Fliss's spine "it's a sad state of affairs when that's the sign of a successful dinner...no one being drowned."

"You clearly don't know my mother that well." she snorted and at that Frank gave another small laugh, the vibrations from his chest passing to Fliss'.

“Speaking of Mothers.” he said, suddenly remembering his conversation with Mary as he had tucked her into bed before. “Mary asked me something before…” “Yeah?” Fliss looked at him.

“So, it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday.” His hand brushed Fliss’ hair back “And she asked me if I thought you’d mind her giving you a card.”

Fliss blinked for a moment, her mouth falling ever so slightly open.

“If you do, then it’s not an issue…” Frank hastily began but Fliss cut him off.

“No, I…” she took a deep breath “Of course I don’t mind…not at all. But do you?” “What?”

“Well, how do you feel about it?”

Frank shrugged “She gives one to Roberta every year, not a card about her being a mother as such, it’s more a thank you for everything she does…I suspect yours will be the same.”

“Feel like a bit of a fraud though.” Fliss shrugged. “Fraud?” Frank looked at her.

“Well, yeah.” Fliss shrugged. “You’re the one that does the hard work with her, I just get to do the fun stuff.” “I don’t think you realise just how much of an impact you’ve had on her since coming into our lives.” Frank said honestly “I notice things she does now, that she never did before, things which she’s blatantly picked up from you.” “Like what?” Fliss looked at him.

“She helps you with dinner…” “You never cook.” Fliss cut him off

“The way she’s far less serious…” Frank pressed on “The way she is with Monty, how she gets on with your parents…wants to buy damned throw cushions.”

Fliss chuckled, her hand resting on Frank’s bare hip “You know, you don’t give yourself enough credit for how she has turned out. I know you don’t look upon yourself as her dad but…well, you are. In everything but name and have been since she was six months old. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“So in conclusion you’re ok about the card?” Frank said, and Fliss laughed, recognising that for what it was. Him moving the conversation along, the way he always did when he was feeling bashful about praise.

“Yes, I’m fine about the card.” she smiled at him, her hand reaching up to run through his soft, fluffy hair.

“We should probably get in bed…” he mused, his eyes closed.

“We are.” “I mean the right way round.” “Oh…” Fliss sat up, and Frank heard the rustling of bedcovers before something soft hit him in the face.

“Problem solved” Fliss grinned as he reached up and grabbed the pillow she’d smacked him with, chuckling. Shoving it under his head he settled down slightly, arms round his girl, closing his eyes.

**** Chapter 17

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

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