#“the pair of them are as different as they are difficult to beat” right buddy. okay
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batsplat · 7 months ago
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This is only the second race I have missed since I made my debut as a 15 year old. The first was in Malaysia in 2005, through suspension. This time it is Barcelona, my home, and it is through injury. Both of them are hard to swallow, very hard. Having watched the race from my room I would like to congratulate Dani Pedrosa for a great race. He rode the best from the start and had a perfect race. I also thought it was a nice touch that Dani showed his support for the anti-guardrail campaign. I had also planned to support the initiative because it is a great cause. Valentino also deserves congratulations for such a great fight back. I'm keen to fight for victory with both of them and if I manage to beat them one day, 'mano a mano', I will feel very proud. The pair of them are as different as they are difficult to beat.
Written by Jorge Lorenzo about Catalunya 2008, taken from Riveras Tobia’s Jorge Lorenzo: My Story So Far
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jamesknights1 · 2 years ago
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Advice on Finding The Right Music Manufacturer
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James Knights Instagram
The No 1 criteria a popular music producer must complete for you is the following: Can He/She Undertake Music That Offers?
James Knights Instagram
Notice the criteria is simply not about the ability to create music, rather it happens to be to make music this sells! If you want to indulge a producer, that criteria must be within the forefront of your contemplating, otherwise the physical exercise of making music turns into a fruitless effort and hard work.
This criterion must help you streamline the numerous producers you should be trying to find, because many whom claim to be companies have never sold 50 singles. Such a someone is not for you.
This means that many of your pals who have studios or even should I say "computers" will not be included in ones list.
Remember that the primary aim of doing new music is to make money from ones own craft and the power team that can ensure these kinds of success must be within the process. The selection of persons, who can not demonstrate any type of commercial viability, should not be allowed to take part in your recording.
It might sound very tough, but your time in addition to money is not with regard to someone else's experiment. Even though you want to help out your mate who is a good budding producer, ensure that you are working with a different inividual who will produce items!
The No a pair of Criteria a beats producer must carry out is this: He/She must offer various benefits beyond audio production.
The kind of company you want must be people who possesses most of the following:
A) Offers connections within the popular music industry
B) Realizes how to market new music
C) Can spot your music using a compilation
D) Will have Club, Radio DJ's to play a music
E) Buy your music distributed by native and international marketers
Remember that the helping to make of music is actually one of the processes; never consider it as the conclusion objective.
I have built many mistakes in past times spending time and revenue with so labeled as producers who are don't just out of date, do not offer for sale music, and have zero contacts that could carry me to the next tier. For you, it should regularly be about getting to the other level, going beyond you can take you, and advancing over and above the many other secretes.
If you work with somebody who can do a portion of the things mentioned around A-D, this will be time/money well spent.
That No 3 Key elements a music developer must fulfil is normally this: He/She might always get the most effective out of you!
Realistic producers are not around simply making is better than that make you hop up and creep but people that ensure that the artist/band consistently performs at your peak. I have over heard people say "That producer really given a hand to me go beyond just what I thought I should have do". Now that is a nice producer.
Does a person's producer make you think way, or would you come out of the dojo knowing that you have possibly not been pushed ın any way.
The No some Criteria a beats producer must satisfy is this: He/She must have integrity:
This role the manufacturer occupies in your audio business career will mean that if they are corrupt, they could short signal your career or most unfortunate still; cost you enough financial losses.
As reported by Ann Harrison, "Music The Business" 5 edition book, this lady explained that the position of the producer protects:
a) Keeping that masters and having to present them to the report company
b) Deciding upon contracts
c) Selecting and paying many musicians
d) Getting rights and choosing performance consents
Most of the above places this producer in a position where by they can easily mishandle the funds if he or she are not trust deserving.
So a good professional recommendation from a trusted buddy to a good supplier is worth its pounds in gold. Maintain your eyes open, and stay well educated in order that it becomes difficult for anybody to take advantage of most people!
The No 5 Criteria a popular music producer must finish is that: He/She Must Be Known simply by Gate Keepers to be a Producer for That Type.
Who are Gate Owners? Anyone in a position associated with influence that can possibly allow or impair the progress of one's (as in this case) music. So it can be people like Beats Programmers at the R / c, The Music Consumer for a Distribution Business, APR persons, and so on; all these people will probably be your friend or your enemy of your new music.
So , if you are some sort of Rock musician, acquire a producer known meant for His/Her production in just that genre; if House Music, the exact same criteria should fill out an application. Gate Keepers can be always very shielding of their niche.
If he or she are accustomed to a production of a human being, then try and seek advise from that producer with the intention that these people can be pleasant to your music. No matter whether you and We agree to their habits is of compact consequence, you must engage in the game to acquire!
DJ & Music Producer 😏 Makes #JungleMusic #4x4BassLine #DubStep #FunkyHouse #UKGarage #RnB #HipHop Records | @creative_records_uk | @zimma_official
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cinematics123 · 2 years ago
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Fireworks
Soooo a few people called me out as toxic for requesting "Maddie beat up Eddie" as toxic. Mea Culpa as I was being dramatic; but I think the "beat up" was a bit much and exaggerated what I really intended. Not going to delete the post, but you guys were right.
But as a Buddie suggestion, I think there could be some real heft in the Buddie story line if there was a protective Maddie v. Eddie moment in the story. Indulge me a moment while I set the stage:
Let's say somewhere near the end point of S6b (placeholder S6E15-16), Buck has been injured and has been recovering with the Diaz boys. There's been a lot of mutual pining, but no movement. They're best friends and current roommates - but they've been both wanting to do something. After a grueling shift, Buck and Eddie are having a few beers on the couch. There's a moment and Buck touches Eddie's hand. Slowly, Buck goes in for the kiss - but at the last moment, Eddie pulls away and the kiss lands on Eddie's cheek bone.
Buck pulls back, horrified, apologizing. Eddie says it's fine, and tries to touch Buck, but Buck bolts out of the house and runs (he's recovered by late season S6b but has stayed at Eddie's past being recovered) back to his loft.
Then next episode (called Fireworks) people are popping off. All of the calls are related to fighting or romance. Once couple has to be rescued from a bathroom they snuck in together. Eddie calls Maddie to ask if Buck is alright and Maddie goes over to see Buck in a funk like he was post-leg injury: self-pity, can't get out of bed, whole 9 yards. Maddie doesn't understand exactly what happened other than Eddie is involved.
Maddie meets up at the 118 and they are doing sparring practice at the gym. Maddie canonically has done that with Buck (it was in Season 2 or 3) and Eddie had the whole fight club arc. Plus, the verbal/physical sparring trope is a tv staple. Maddie is paired up with Eddie and basically starts interrogating him through the sparring.
While Eddie starts by giving Maddie nothing but his own shutdown routine, Maddie is playing the protective older sister, verbally hitting Eddie with "Buck always feels like he is alone, he only feels like he truly has you and me." Eddie pushes back that Buck makes his own choices. Maddie starts sparring a little too hard, pushing Eddie for what happened between the two of them. Eddie says "things just happen." Maddie swings, Eddie misses the block, Maddie connects with Eddie - right on the same cheek where Buck kissed Eddie.
Cuts to: a few hours later and Chim sees Eddie with a black eye he teases Eddie that Buck gave him the black eye. Eddie responds: “No, your Buckley did this, not my Buckley.” Chim says something something about Buckley's being difficult, but how hard he's fought to find Maddie. Chim says something something about "but, you know, you're right. Buck is your Buckley" and Eddie breaks a little bit.
Buck phones in to Bobby to say that he has to emergently transfer to a different station. Buck is afraid he's ruined the team by making an unrequited move on Eddie, but doesn't say that to Bobby. However, when Buck calls, Bobby mentions about Maddie and Eddie. So Buck feels he needs to go down to and apologize in person, not for Buck, but for Maddie. Buck comes down with the transfer request papers and sees Eddie with the black eye; he starts trying to apologize for Maddie when -- the alarm goes off.
It's one last call for Buck with the team at a fireworks factory that is burning down. There are several stations responding and the 118 is not leading the incident. The whole team feels sidelined, the situation it is dangerous but others are leading the evacuation. Even Hen & Chim are not even being asked to check on the rescued workers. It's a hurry up and wait situation and it's unbearable with Eddie and Buck both there - both together on the team, but both holding back and both hurt and being kept away from the burning building, which would just give them something positive to do.
Buck finally turns to Eddie. And says he's sorry. Eddie asks if he's means he's sorry for running away. Buck says no - he's sorry for what he did (and in front of the whole 118) says "I'm sorry for kissing you." Buck launches into an explanation that he's leaving and Eddie doesn't need to worry and typical Buck over explains.
Eddie is rocked. "You're leaving us? You're leaving me?" Buck starts saying he has to - but Eddie interrupts him. "Stop running, Evan. Don't run from me." He says he doesn't know how he's supposed to handle it, but, yes, he loves Buck too. Buck doesn't understand but Eddie walks over to him and kisses Buck right on the mouth. As they kiss, the fire finally gets to the fireworks - and the factory blows. Streamers shoot up into the air and it's all fireworks high in the air around Buddie's first kiss.
Would make for a good season 6 finale...
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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago
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Burn The Witch 14 - Haunt [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.
Summary: It’s always difficult to keep secrets.
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Well then.
Apparently this was how civilians dated.
You couldn’t exactly say you were very familiar with it. Your line of work didn’t exactly allow you to date and do normal couple stuff, let alone with a civilian. Spies were easier, you didn’t trust them and you knew they didn’t trust you.
Except for missions, you didn’t have any date nights unless they included going after targets.
That was why posing as a civilian was almost a relief. It was simpler, more fun, more peaceful-
Even happier.
“What do you mean you can’t give me a clue?” you asked, “It’s date night, you’re supposed to give me a clue. Those are the rules.”
“I don’t remember any rule like that.”
You slurped on the milkshake, dangling your legs back and forth on the high seat you were perched on.
“Well, how am I supposed to know what to wear then?”
Bucky tilted his head, eyeing your uniform with a grin on his face and you slapped at his arm playfully.
“Are you serious?”
He held up his hands, gesturing surrender. “I said nothing.”
“I refuse to believe you find this uniform hot.”
“Why?”
“Bucky, just look at this!”
“Believe it or not I’ve been looking at it for some time now.”
You rolled your eyes, “You’re so full of it.”
“Oh trust me darling, I’m completely sincere.”
You raised your brows, “How?”
He heaved a sigh and looked like he was considering whether he should tell you or not while you waited patiently.
“When we were—“ he licked his lips, “When—uh, back in the 40s, one of my buddies, he had this poster on the wall of the barrack we were staying in.”
You gawked at him, “A poster of…?”
“A pin up.”
“In this uniform?”
“Almost the same, yeah.”
You let out a clear laugh, “Oh my God, that’s why you reacted like that when you first saw me in this?”
The tips of his ears went pink before he dragged his gaze from yours and you awwed.
“Then it’s only fair if I ask you to return the favor and dress up from 40s.”
“As if you know any—“
“Clark Gable.” You cut him off and scrunched up your face, “Was that too quick?”
“A little, yeah,” he said, “Do you want to try again?”
“….Yes please.”
“As if you know anyone from those times.”
You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, “I’m just pulling this idea out of thin air, but Clark Gable.”
“I don’t think I can pull off that mustache, Y/N.”
“I mean have you tried?” you asked, narrowing your eyes and he shook his head.
“Stop imagining me with that mustache.”
“You would look good!” you insisted, grinning mischievously and he heaved a sigh.
“Clark Gable? Seriously?”
“Bucky, I’m the one who’s dressed up like a pin up your buddies used to fantasize about, so I feel like you should give me some credit here.”
“Fair enough.”
“Why thank you,” you pointed out, “So? Where are we going?”
“You can ask as much as you want,” Bucky grinned, “It’s not going to work.”
You threw your head back, letting out a whine. “But I want to know!” you said, “Okay, is it inside or outside?”
“Outside.”
“A concert!”
“Not a concert.”
You pursed your lips, deep in thought, “…Flea market. You’re taking me to the flea market.”
He pulled his brows together, confusion written all over his face, “You think we used to go to flea markets on a date?”
“Picnic!”
“In the evening?” he asked and you pouted.
“It would be a romantic evening picnic.”
“Do you want to have a romantic evening picnic?”
You shook your head fervently, “I want whatever you have planned!”
“Nah, I’m putting romantic evening picnic on the list.”
“You have a list?” you asked and he nodded.
“Yep.”
“Can I see it?”
“No.”
You huffed out, making him laugh, “Aw, you’re adorable when you’re frustrated.”
“Bucky!” you whined again, making his smile bigger.
“Yes darling?”
“It’s not fair,” you insisted but before you could say anything else, you heard Tara’s voice.
“Hey lovebirds,” she said, “I hate to interrupt because you two make a beautiful couple, but your break is almost over and I’m going to need some help at the freezer.”
Bucky’s body tensed up beside yours but only for a second, and you pressed your lips together.
Right. Freezer probably didn’t bring up good memories.
“I can help if you want?” Bucky said slowly and you shook your head.
“Nope. Company policy, only staff can go in.” You leaned in to peck him on the lips, “What time will you pick me up?”
“Around 8:30.” He stole another kiss from you and stood up, “I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you tonight!”
“Have a nice day Tara.”
“You too Romeo,” Tara said as he left the shop and you followed her to the freezer.
“He is so whipped,” she commented, making you grin, “And so are you.”
Your jaw dropped, “Hey!” you said as you helped her with the chocolate milkshake container, “Not nice!”
“I can already picture how cute your children will be.”
You almost dropped the container at the mention but managed to catch it and pull yourself together.
“Oh I don’t think…” you trailed off, trying to ignore the pang at the pit of your stomach, “I don’t think he wants—um, I don’t think we—“
“Aw you really are cute,” Tara said, “Come on now. Are you telling me you never thought about a future with him?”
The image that flashed in front of your eyes was almost taunting you but you bit inside your cheek, then shook your head.
“My last relationship ended really badly,” you explained, “And Bucky has had a rough couple of….”
Decades.
“Years,” you said, “And everything is pretty complicated, I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Well, do you want it to be possible?”
You pushed your hair back and grabbed the nearest set of jars to put them on the shelf one by one, just so you could keep yourself busy.
“It doesn’t really matter what I want,” you heard yourself say, “It won’t make any difference in the future either.”
                                         ***
“A funfair,” Chloe looked up with a bright smile on her face as soon as you jumped up to sit on her desk. “He’s taking you to a funfair.”
“Wait, really?” you let out a laugh, “Oh that’s cute.”
“Who knew The Winter Soldier could be romantic?” she said, “I’d probably swoon if someone took me to a funfair.”
You could swear Keith appeared out of thin air behind you, “What?”
“Holy shit!” you exclaimed and pressed a hand over your chest, “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Who’s swooning?”
“Barnes is taking Y/N to a funfair,” Chloe said, “Isn’t that romantic?”
“You find funfairs romantic?”
“Yeah!”
“Keith,” you raised your brows, “Aren’t you busy?”
“Nope, General is talking to Julian so I’m not busy at all.”
You heaved a sigh, “My meeting with him lasted like an hour, how did he let you go so fast?”
“Easy. I’m not the team leader.”
You sipped your coffee, crossing your legs and Keith grinned.
“So, did you tell her yet?”
Chloe frowned, “Did she tell me what yet?”
“Why Barnes stayed over at your place until midnight last night?”
“Y/N!” Chloe gasped, “You promised we would go lingerie shopping before you slept with him!”
“First of all, I didn’t sleep with him, and second of all, Keith nosey neighbor much?”
“It’s literally my job Y/N.”
“What happened?” Chloe asked, barely able to sit straight as Julian walked past you three to check his laptop on an empty desk near Chloe’s. You gritted your teeth, and turned to Chloe.
“Hm?”
“You have to tell us!” she said and Keith laughed.
“At least give us a base.”
“Second base?” Chloe offered and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Julian clenching his jaw.
“Nah no way,” Keith said, “The guy hasn’t been getting laid since what? 40s? Third base.”
No bases. None at all, Bucky was a gentleman and seeing that you were quite shaken up last night, he had just held you while you two watched that ridiculous action movie until you could calm down a little.
He hadn’t even asked any questions.
“Do you think he—“
“Y/N,” Julian’s voice cut through Chloe’s, “Can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?”
You pulled your brows together, “About what?”
“The mission.”
You eyed him up and down, then shrugged your shoulders and made your way to the nearest empty room, which happened to be a meeting room. He followed you inside and closed the door behind him as you turned around to look at him, already dreading this conversation.
“So?”
“So General agrees with me.”
Your head shot up, “I beg your pardon?”
“He agrees that it was quick thinking on my part when Barnes walked in on us arguing,” he said, making you grit your teeth, “Granted it wasn’t idea, but we can turn it around to work on our advantage—“
“Bullshit,” you cut him off, “Are you serious?”
“To repeat, an ex-boyfriend creates an environment of competition,” he said, making you scrunch up your nose in distaste.
“Unbelievable,” you said, “You know, just because General doesn’t see through this whole façade doesn’t mean you fool everyone else in here.”
“What façade?”
“Oh give me a break!” you let out a humorless laugh, “This whole teammate trying to be helpful bullshit. You don’t think anyone but yourself, you’ve proven you can’t be trusted and you want to take over this mission.”
“I couldn’t take over this mission if I tried,” he pointed out “I’m not Barnes’ type.”
You rolled your eyes, “Oh look at you, you got jokes now.”
“Just saying, I wouldn’t look as cute in that uniform.”
“Fuck you.”
“Y/N—“
“You’re not taking over my mission.”
“I’m not trying to take over your mission,” he explained patiently, “I’m trying to help you, is that so hard to believe?”
“I think we both know you couldn’t care less about me,” you said, “As that last mission proved.”
The amused, taunting light in his eyes was dimmed in a second as he gawked at you, brows pulled together in confusion.
“What?” he asked after a beat, “You think I don’t care about you?”
You let out a laugh, “I’m sorry, is that a trick question?” you asked, “You sure as hell didn’t care back then.”
He ran a hand over his face, “I think you and I remember that last mission quite differently,” he said, “I did what I had to do—“
“Uh huh.”
“I thought you would do the same,” he insisted, “Y/N, I was trying to get us out of there, just because I beat you to it—“
“I would never!” you snapped at him and he shook his head.
“Have you ever thought maybe that’s a problem?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Why do you think the General put me into this mission?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders.
“Are we going to pretend you’re here to do something else other than spying on me and reporting it back?”
“No, that’s not my mission,” he said, “I’m here to make sure you don’t do what you always do.”
“What, nailing the mission?”
“Running headfirst into danger,” he said, “You ran into world’s most dangerous assassin whom you’re playing the honeypot for, and any other spy would get the fuck out of there but what did you do? You taunted him. Twice.”
“Well I hate to break it to you, but I know Bucky better than you or the General—“
“You mean the Winter Soldier?”
“…Yeah,” you corrected yourself, “Yeah I know the Winter Soldier better than you two do. Better than anyone here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, “I don’t know who told you otherwise, but not your every decision is right on missions. You keep taking unnecessary risks because you think it’s fun.”
“Maybe. But hey, at least I don’t leave people to die.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked and he closed his eyes for a moment as if it was way too difficult for him to hear and opened them again.
“I didn’t leave you to die, Y/N.”
You scoffed, “Alright,” you said, walking to the door, “We’re done here—“
“Are you sleeping with him?”
Your hand on the doorknob froze and you looked over your shoulder, “I’m sorry?”
“Are you sleeping with Barnes?”
“Who wants to know?” you asked, “You or the General?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah. If it’s you, I can ask why it’s any of your business.”
He shifted his weight, suddenly dragging his gaze from yours.
“I just…” he murmured, “I don’t like it.”
You paused for a moment, trying to wrap your head around the idea before you clicked your tongue.
“Well that’s a relief,” you stated, “I don’t give a fuck what you like.”
With that, you swung open the door and left the meeting room, not even looking back once.
                                    ***
In your defense, when you went to bed for a nap you didn’t think that 15 minute nap would turn into a whole two hours. You were still groggy by the time you woke up and your hair was a mess and you still had no idea what to wear and—
You were starving and way too thirsty.
You stretched out as you walked to the kitchen, still trying to pull yourself together but it was already dark outside so it was making things even worse. You flipped the switch and opened the fridge to grab the water bottle, uncapping it and taking big gulps. After you were done, you took out two slices of bread and peanut butter and jam, then quickly made a sandwich to take a bite. Leaning back, you let out a sigh and eyed the gun on the table.
You had a feeling the General would send you on another night mission soon.
You took another bite of your sandwich but your head shot up when you heard the doorbell ring and you almost dropped the water bottle but caught it mid-air.
“Shit…” you whispered and grabbed the gun to put it in the kitchen cabinet, and placed the sandwich on the plate, then made your way to the door to open it.
A fond smile pulled at Bucky’s lips as soon as he took in your disheveled appearance, “Hello there Dracula.”
“I’m so sorry,” you tried to fix your hair, “I…I was taking a nap and then I didn’t hear my alarm and—“
“Don’t worry about it darling,” he said, “You look beautiful.”
“I look like a mess,” you corrected him, scrunching up your nose and stepped aside so that he could walk in. He pulled you closer to peck you on the lips.
“Hi.”
“Hi back,” you smiled up at him and made your way to the kitchen with him following you suit.
“I’m just going to finish this and then I’ll get ready in like ten minutes, promise!”
“Not a problem,” he said as you jumped up to sit on the counter, dangling your legs, “If you want to stay in tonight—“
“No no!” you interrupted him, “I want to go to…um, wherever it is we’re going. Do you want some?” you held up the sandwich, “I could make you one too.”
Bucky stepped closer to you to take a bite of your sandwich, making you giggle.
“I mean do you want your own?”
“You’re not good with sharing?”
“Nope,” you shook your head, still smiling as he put his palms on the counter either side of your legs, caging you in.
“No?”
“Nuh uh.” You said, then leaned in to peck him on the lips again before you pulled back to take a bite out of your sandwich.
“How was your day?” you asked, and he heaved a sigh.
“Mm, uneventful.”
“Uneventful can be a nice change.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah I mean…at least your ex doesn’t show up out of nowhere,” you paused for a moment, “Or in your case, doesn’t escape from nursing home.”
He chuckled, his thumbs caressing the soft skin of your legs, making you distracted for a moment as the warmth filled you again.
“Did he visit you again?”
You tried to focus and looked up at him, “Hm?”
“Julian.”
“Oh,” you made a face and shook your head, “No. No but something tells me that wasn’t the last time I saw him.”
“Really?” he said, “I still feel like the next time he shows up you should let me know so that I can—“
“I already know what you’re going to say, and no.”
“What was I going to say?”
“Some macho showdown nonsense,” you said with a laugh, “Seriously. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can,” he said with a sigh, “But the guy said and I quote, he would take you away from me, so forgive me if I want to have a talk with him.”
You rolled your eyes, “No one is taking anyone from anyone,” you said, “Number one, we don’t live in Stone Age. Number two, I’m quite happy with who I am dating now.”
A small smile curled his lips, “Are you?”
“I mean,” you heaved a dramatic sigh, “I would be happier if my date told me where we’re going but can’t win ‘em all.”
You pressed a kiss on his cheek and jumped down.
“Okay, I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes, knock yourself out,” you said, “There’s beer in the fridge if you want.”
“Thanks,” he said and you walked to your bedroom to open your closet, then grabbed a dress and put it on. After quickly doing your make up, you found the lipstick you were looking for and started applying it.
“Darling do you have a bottle opener?”
“Yes, it’s in the kitchen cabinet!” you called out and checked your reflection in the mirror before your mind caught up to what you had just said. Panic crashed into you, knocking the breath out of you and you dropped the lipstick to rush to the kitchen.
“Bucky wait—“ you started but as soon as you saw the open cabinet, your stomach dropped. He looked at you over his shoulder with a frown on his face, then turned around and held up your gun, making you swallow thickly.
“So,” he said, his gaze pinning you to your spot. “Anything you would like to tell me?”
Chapter 15
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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago
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Hayloft (p.2)
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Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader
Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)
Warnings: Abuse, drunkenness, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead, decapitating a chicken, reader is kind of emotional in this chapter
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!
Part 1 
_____________________
Work had passed fairly quickly as it always did when you had the opening shift. It sure sucked having to arrive at five o’clock in the morning but at least you got off earlier and you knew that that way you could grab groceries before your father got home and could yell at you about an empty kitchen again. By two o’clock in the afternoon, you were home again, hopping out of your truck and grabbing as many bags as you could in one go. 
The loud sound of metal slamming against metal shook you and you flinched, looking between your door and the frame to see Arvin walking out towards you. It hadn’t occurred to you that his car was even in your driveway. After so many years of having busted broken down old cars sitting there that your dad had been swearing he’d fix for almost ten years, cars in the driveway seemed normal. “Let me give you a hand,” he offered as he got closer, lifting the canvas bags from your hands before you could object. 
“Oh!” You exclaimed as you felt the weight suddenly taken off your own arms, “Thank you.” You dove back into the truck to grab the last two bags before slamming it shut with your hips. The two of you began your stroll towards the front door, the dirt driveway kicking up around your feet. “You’re back early.” You noted, looking over at Arvin. 
He shrugged, “Yeah, uh, Wallace had me on the early shift today.” 
You fumbled with the bags as you tried to unlock the door, kicking it open with your toes when it finally gave in. You walked into your home and Arvin followed, closing the door behind him. “Been here long? I didn’t see you in the driveway.” 
“Not too long. I just didn’t want to let myself into your home without nobody there.” Arvin set the bags on the counter next to where you set yours. 
You began to unpack the bags and put the groceries in the respective places. Arvin watched off to the side, unsure of how your kitchen was organized so he was worried he’d do more than good if he stepped in. “My daddy got the late shift?” 
Arvin shook his head, noticing that his beat up old hat was still on his head despite being indoors and took it off immediately, his tousled brown curls parting messily down the middle. “No, we went in at the same time. He ‘n some buddies said they was goin’ to some bar in town.” 
He watched your shoulders fall a little and you sighed, “Figures…. You didn’t go?” 
Again, Arvin shook his head, “No. No offense to your daddy but I don’t like to drink the way I get the feelin’ he does.” 
You snorted, turning to him with a knowing chuckle, “Let’s just say that I’m sorry in advance for whatever he says or does when he gets home, if he gets home. Sheriff Pike might end up callin’ in the mornin’ tellin’ us to pick him up.” Though it was stated as a joke, Arvin could hear the tragic reality behind your words. 
Arvin then noticed the pack of beer bottles that you were pulling out of the bag. As if you could feel his eyes looking at you with worried curiosity, you glanced over at him, noticing the way his eyes flicked between you and the beer in your hands. You offered a sad shrug, “I know what you’re thinkin’ but trust me. Sometimes it’s better to have him drunk and possibly content than sober and angry there’s nothing to drink. Besides, the beer is better than the hard stuff with ‘im.” 
“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be makin’ faces. Your business is your business,” Arvin backpedalled, giving you an apologetic nod. 
You shook your head, “Don’t worry. I know how it looks. I’m sorry you gotta see all of it. I been tryin’ to keep to keep him calm but if you end up stayin’ a while, I’m sure you’ll get to see him at his worse times.” 
Arvin chewed his lip as he contemplated whether or not to bring up what had been going through his mind but he had to make sure you were alright. “I-I heard you ‘n your dad talkin’ last night… right after you left my room.” 
Your face fell as you realized what he was talking about, “You weren’t s’posed to hear that. I’m sorry.” Shit, this was what you were hoping to avoid. 
“Are you alright?” 
Gentle. Caring. His tone was something that had been long lost to you in this house and it took the words out of your mouth for a moment. It was embarrassing, the way your heart welled up with… well love wasn’t quite the right word but the warmth of being cared about. Not since after your mother had passed had you heard somebody actually care about how you felt. 
You just nodded and gave a forced smile that you could tell was easy to see through but it was the best you could muster. For someone who was able to take so much shit from their father and was able to look the man who would throw things at you and grab you by the hair dead in the eye with nothing but contempt, it was compassion that made you crumble. It had been so unexpected, especially from Arvin, the stranger living in your house. 
“Shit, ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean to - I didn’t mean to overstep. I only…” He stammered over his words and at first you were confused until you felt the single hot tear tracing its way down your cheek. 
You were quick to wipe it away, shocked at your own uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. You hadn’t realized until now that you had zoned out on the ground while Arvin’s words repeated in your head but now a flash of embarrassment ran through you. “No, no, no. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sniffled once before giving a small laugh of disbelief. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since anybody asked that.” 
You straightened up and ran your hands through your hair, eyes closed as you thought of what else you needed to do. Thankfully, if your dad was at the bar, you had at least another four hours to just you and Arvin, all night if you were lucky, though you seldom were. That was when the feeling of dread set in. Your dad had requested chicken roast for dinner tonight and whether he came home early and only a few beers in or you had to drive him home hungover in the morning, the man would be furious if there weren’t at least reheated leftovers for him. You had to kill Patty and prep her for dinner. 
“You okay?” Arvin asked again, though this time it was in reference to the way a heavy look fell over your features. It wasn’t a profound deep question like it was earlier. 
Your head wavered from side to side and your lips twisted, “My daddy asked for chicken roast tonight. I gotta go out and fix Patty up.” You tried to put it lightly though it felt anything but. “I’ll be out in the coop. You’re more than welcome to clean up in the shower or do whatever you’d like ‘round the house. The radio is in the livin’ room if you wanna tune into somethin’.” 
You pushed yourself off the counter and walked to the door in your kitchen that led out to the backyard but Arvin made a few steps to follow, “Is it alright if I keep you company? It don’t feel right bein’ in your house without you or your daddy here.” 
You smiled at the thought of him staying with you and you nodded, continuing out the door, “Sure, c’mon.” 
The hen house wasn’t very far from the back door. From there, you could see the several acres of land that your father was wasting. Your grandparents had bought this land in the late 1910’s and had started up a little farm of their own to sell locally, though your father had abandoned the farming portion after they died. It was where your daddy had grown up and then where you had as well. God, how you missed your grandparents. Your grandmother’s soft words of love and kindness but sternness and willingness to swat your butt with a wooden spoon if you got an attitude (though she would yell at your father if he ever tried to discipline you - “Now you leave that poor baby alone!”). Your grandfather had looked like a rough and angry old man from years of hard work but he had the softest heart of anyone you’d ever met. How the two of them had raised your father was beyond you. 
When you approached the wired fence and jiggled the lock open, the chickens inside stood surprisingly still. They trusted you. You could see it in their little brown eyes. You were safe and warm and didn’t want to harm them. You came in for the unfertilized eggs they laid and left, oftentimes with some seed and a soft pat or two on the head. Patty, a fat white hen with black specks, walked comfortably around your feet, nuzzling her head against your leg. She was the nicest hen you’d ever had. She trusted you. 
God, you were about to cry again. You bent down to pick her up and you held her against your chest, trying to look her in the eye, though it was difficult when she kept jerking it in different directions. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” you murmured low. Usually it was your father that would slaughter the hens if he really wanted the meat that badly. You had never done it yourself but he’d made you watch every time so that you knew how if the time ever came. Each time it made you sick to your stomach. 
Already, you felt green. The unassuming hen that you had been friendly enough to for her not flip out when you held her was none the wiser that her life was about to end by your hand. You glanced over to the large wood round just ahead and the axe that was leaned up against it. 
Your face contorted as you realized how much you disliked the placement. The way your father would slaughter chickens right in front of their friends made your heart break. It was barbaric. 
You walked over to Arvin and held Patty out towards him, “Would you mind holdin’ onto her for a second?” 
Though visibly confused, he took the chicken from your hands, drawing back when her wings fluttered out at the contact with the new strange man. Arvin watched as you walked towards the large round and tried to push it with all your might. “What’re you doin’?” 
“I’m-” you grunted, feeling it slide slowly, inch by inch, “trying to move it where the other chickens can’t see.” You took another moment to use all your force against it before standing up straight and breathing heavily, “I know it sounds dumb cause they’re only chickens but it feels cruel to make ‘em watch, y’know?” You went back to pushing the round and Arvin approached behind you. 
From here he could see the blood stains in the wood. It looked as if the blood had been washed off but the wood had been stained crimson regardless. There was also a divot where an axe had clearly been driven down many times over the years, chipping away at the wood. 
Arvin’s heart actually warmed a little at your attempt to show mercy and your willingness to go out of your way to spare some chickens’ feelings. It wasn’t something he was sure he’d do himself but when he heard you say it, he realized you had a point. It was cruel to imprison a bunch of animals and then lead them out one by one to be slaughtered in front of everyone, each animal waiting their turn. “Here, take ‘er back. Let me.” Arvin stepped in, handing Patty back over to you and bending down to lift the round onto its side with much effort. The wood had to weigh at least a hundred pounds and had long since settled into the ground where it had been placed when you were a child.
Your eyes widened as you watched his biceps bulge, straining the material of his blue t-shirt. You’d never seen a man with muscles like that before and you found your eyes trailing along his arms, following every popping vein from the tops of his hands, up his forearms, and onto his biceps until they disappeared beneath his shirt. It was something you hadn’t expected to see in him. Arvin looked like a quiet, polite, hardworking young man but you never would have imagined the immaculate muscles he possessed. You found your mind wandering to what other surprises laid in store beneath all those layers he wo- 
You needed to calm yourself down. If only he could hear your thoughts, he surely would be furious and disgusted with you. You hadn’t had such impure thoughts since that one time you had been messing around with Jimmy Bates in the backseat of his old car back in your senior year of high school. The two of you didn’t even go all the way but you went far enough and the guilt ate you alive since the two of you were never officially together anyways. He was just the cute boy from high school that you had pined over years that had finally given you the chance right before he shipped off to join the war. 
“This alright?” Arvin asked, shaking you from your fantasy, and you snapped back into reality to realize he had rolled the wood round around the side of the coop behind the wooden wall, outside of the other chickens’ views. 
You nodded and walked over to him, “That’s perfect. Thank you so much for doin’ that. I know it’s sorta stupid.” 
Arvin shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, “If it means somethin’ to you, it ain’t stupid at all. Besides, now that you pointed it out, it was a little barbaric.” 
You smiled up at him, one which he returned. How was this boy so damn nice? Was this some cosmic way of the universe finally giving you something good in your life? You’d become so calloused to your father’s harsh words and barked commands that you had forgotten how nice it was to feel cared about and validated. And you barely knew him. 
“‘M glad you think so.” You looked down at Patty in your arms and any good feelings you’d had melted to sadness and fear. “You been a good girl, Patty. I know you struggled with layin’ eggs for a while but you were always a good girl. Never bit me once unlike some of them other hens.” You weren’t often very soft and vulnerable but you were about to take something’s life for the first time and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that on your heart. If this were a life or death situation, you would feel better about it, but it wasn’t. The only reason Patty had to die was because your father would throw a fit if she didn’t. 
You carried her to the log and gave her a little kiss on the top of the head, “Please don’t hate me but I understand if you do. Say hi to my momma for me, will you? Tell her I love and miss her.” You set her down and got her in the position you always saw your dad put the other chickens in before he chopped their heads off. Arvin handed you the axe with uncertainty but watched on as you struggled to bring yourself to finish the deed. 
You held her down and you could tell by the way she was flailing that she was panicking now. Patty was well aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry!” You choked, tears welling up in your eyes as her panic began to turn into your own panic. How did people do this? Why was this so freaking difficult? 
Tossing the axe slightly in your hand, you readjusted the handle and just as you went to swing, Arvin piped up, “I can do it.” 
You looked over at him, the afternoon sun reflecting the tears in your eyes and making the color of your irises stand out in tragic beauty. “I-I- Would you really not mind?” You breathed out in relief. 
Arvin stepped forward and you handed the axe out to him, “I don’t mind.” You held onto Patty until Arvin could position her just right as well. He had no idea what he was doing - he’d never had to slaughter a chicken before. He had heard that all you had to do was cut their head off though and then he’d heard the rumors of them running around like crazy even after their head hit the ground. How hard could it be? 
Once he had the hen pinned down where he wanted her, he looked up to see you chewing on your thumb, brows knitted in discomfort. It wasn’t the first chicken you’d watched get slaughtered but it was far from something you enjoyed observing. Arvin signaled to you with a nod before raising the axe above his head and you shut your eyes tight, flinching at the sound of the old metal head thudding into the old wood. 
**
You had the carcass sitting in the sink while you pulled off the blood soaked feathers, depositing them into the trash bin by the handful. This part was easier for you, something you’d done many times in the past. “Thank you for doin’ that. I’m sorry I’m such a baby.” 
Arvin sat at the kitchen table behind you, “You ain’t a baby just cause you don’t like to kill things. I’d say it’s probably rather normal.” 
The time was inching closer to four o’clock now and the sun was beginning to hang ever so slightly lower in the sky, the precursor to sunset. It was warm outside and a cool spring breeze blew in through the open window above the sink. You snickered as you pulled another handful of feathers out, “Yeah? That mean you ain’t normal?” You looked over at him with a playful glint in your eye but your smile fell when you saw an uncomfortable look cross his face, almost like he’d seen a ghost. 
“I ain’t never said I liked killin’ either.” Arvin attempted to match your joking tone but it was pretty evident there was a weight behind his words. 
“Hey, I‘m sorry. I was only jokin’.” A pang of guilt washed over you but it was only that. A joke. You hadn’t imagined teasing him over something like killing a chicken would set him off, especially since he volunteered to do it for you, but apparently you were wrong. 
Arvin sniffed and scratched his nose, “I know.” After a moment of awkward silence, he stood, “Let me give you a hand. What do you need done?” 
You scanned his face once more to make sure he was really okay but you decided to drop it when you saw his insistent look. You shook your head, “I got it. It ain’t much after I get this all gutted and cleaned.” You picked up the mostly featherless carcass by the wings and plopped it back down into the sink. 
“Well ‘m sure there’s vegetables or somethin’ else that goes with it, right? Let me start cuttin’ those up.” His persistence was adorable, making your heart flutter in the most wonderful way. The idea of a man actually being helpful was unknown to you before Arvin. Your life had been filled with your dad’s drunken bossings since you were twelve years old. You couldn’t remember the last time a genuinely kind voice offered you anything more than a smile on the street, not that you took that for granted. Arvin was just different though. Noble and helpful and kind. 
“You really don’t have to-” 
“Yeah, you keep sayin’ that but I really do want to help. So what can I do to make things easier on you?” He took a few steps closer to you until you felt the beginning of what could have been sparks if he stepped any nearer, like when you hold two magnets a few inches apart and you can feel the energy between them, that hint of attraction, but it’s not quite close enough to pull them together. 
The blush in your cheeks at his simple gesture made you break the eye contact with a nervous laugh of retreat, “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna be so insistent,” you drew out with a teasing drawl, “you can cut up veggies. There’s potatoes over there and carrots and zucchini in the fridge.” 
Arvin’s lips turned up in a small smile when you finally resigned your stubborn ways and he went off to find the vegetables where you had directed him. 
Needless to say, when your father came home from the bar to find you and Arvin talking over a song by the Platters playing on the radio with Arvin cleaning up the dishes while you tossed together the vegetables and the seasoning, he was less than pleased. 
“What the hell is going on here?” His slurred speech made your eyes widen in fear. He was supposed to get home later like he always did. But then you found yourself chiding your irresponsibility. Why the hell would you take that chance? You knew better than to let Arvin help out and now you were gonna pay. 
Arvin sensed the way you tensed up beside him and watched as you spun around to face your father with haste, “Just finishin’ up dinner now. Should be ready by six so you got more than enough time to take a sho-” 
“Why the fuck is he doin’ the dishes?” You father was leaning against the wall, clearly relying on the structure for support. This wasn’t the time to test him, not with Arvin here. It was times like this when he’d start throwing stuff at you. 
Before you could say anything, Arvin piped up firmly but respectfully, “I offered, sir. It’s no problem at all.” 
Your dad pointed at Arvin, “A man ain’t got no place with his hands in a sink of dishes. You leave that shit to her and she’ll just grab you a beer.” He stumbled over his own feet before catching himself ungracefully. 
Arvin’s jaw set tightly and you gripped the countertop with white knuckles behind you. Times like this, you weren’t even sure what to say anymore. No amount of standing up for yourself got you anywhere with him. You never made any headway with your dad’s sexist views on gender roles. It was pointless. The only thing to do was try and work your way to supporting yourself so you could get the hell out of dodge and never look back. 
Arvin’s voice surprised you, “A man’s place is helpin’ out the women in his life when they need, not leavin’ ‘em to do all the housework themselves.” You nearly choked on your own tongue at his words. It was a bold statement for a man to make, especially to the head of the house that was being so gracious as to host him free of charge, but he didn’t back down. It appeared like the jab was lost on your drunken father but Arvin continued with a slightly less accusatory comment to diffuse the situation regardless, “I grew up helpin’ my grandma with all the house chores so I really don’t mind at all.” 
You watched the way your dad eyed Arvin and then you before scoffing and grumbling incoherently as he shuffled his way into the living room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I don’t want you gettin’ kicked out ‘cause of me. You didn’t have to say nothin’.” 
Arvin glared at where your father had disappeared and nodded, “Yeah, I did. You don’t deserve all the shit he gives you.” 
You suddenly found yourself avoiding his eyes and twisting your lips. He was right and you were well aware of that fact. The abuse your dad put you through was uncalled for at best. The fact that Arvin had actually taken the time to not only notice the same fact but acknowledge it and stand up for you was something you never thought you’d hear someone do. It made you uncomfortable. You’d been fighting this battle by yourself for so long that letting somebody even know it was being waged was enough to make you want to sink away. Even so, a part of you wanted to let Arvin keep standing up for you. It made you feel weak after having to stand up for yourself for so long but also validated. 
Your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a moment before turning back towards dinner that sat in a roasting pan on the stove, “Thank you.” 
______
Taglist: 
@thisisparadisemylove
@justapurrcat
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girl-of-many-fandoms · 4 years ago
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Need You
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Request: Can you write an imagine where you’re in an abusive relationship and you go to Hotch (your best friend) for help? Lots of angst with fluff at the end? If possible I appreciate it a lot.
Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, blood, angst
MASTERLIST
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“Don’t walk away from me bitch!” Matt jerked me back to where he was standing fuming mad for whatever reason
“Let me go!” I ripped my arm out of his grasp which enraged him even more. He shoved me aside knocking me into the table before bashing my head on the wall
“You’re not leaving this house to go be a hoe with your coworkers!” he gripped my face dragging me up from my spot on the ground shoving me into the mirror on the wall. The shards of glass fell on the ground, some cutting my exposed legs. My entire body hurts from the many beatings that I had been given this week
You’re wondering why me, a federal agent, had somehow managed to be caught up with an abuser. Long story short, I’m an idiot. I was too niave, I believed that everyone can change. The first time he laid his hands on me I excused him after he apologized relentlessly. Then once turned into twice, then a third and after that I lost track at how many times we’ve been down this road. This week was the worst, he’s been frustrated with the loss of his job and he’s been taking it out on me the past couple of days.
This week I had to cover up the many bruses that he left on my upper body to hide them from my friends who were curious to know why I had made a sudden change in the clothes I wear to work. Usually I’d be in skirts and short sleeved blouses but now I wear pants and turtlenecks to the office and even in the field
Too caught up in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed his cleanched fist swinging to connect with my face before it was too late. He punched me in my left eye sure to leave a mark, he smacked me across my face. As he continued his assault on me all I kept thinking about was Aaron
You have to fight back
GET UP!
Finding the strength I needed I jabbed my thumbs into his eyes and kneed him in his balls successfully getting him off of me. Scrambling off of the floor I snatched my keys and phone from on the table and was about to rush out the front door when he yanked my ankle. Using my stilettos to my advantage I pressed the heel into his hand
“You fucking slut!” he groaned in pain as I ran to my car
Finally in the safety of my vehicle I started it and pulled off just before he could reach my doorhandle. Tires screeching as I sped away from his appartment complex. I released a breathe that I didn’t even realize that I had been holding, my eye throbbed from the immense pain. I lifted my shaky hand to my eye groaning from the contact on the swollen area. 
The metalic taste of blood coated the tip of my tounge as I swiped it over my bottom lip. My vision started to get blurred from the tears that were streaming down my face making it even more difficult to see. I didn’t even know where I was going but somehow my car came to a stop in front of Aaron’s apartment.
Getting out I made my way into the building and up the stairs to his door. Knocking on the door I noticed my busted knuckles which had small fragments of glass in the cuts
“Y/n what-” he gently ushered me into his place and immediately took me over to his sofa. Anger radiated off of him and he scanned all my injuries, jaw tight as his fingers lightly brushed against my face 
“Did he do this to you?” he asked and I weakly nodded my head unable to use my voice
“I’m gonna kill him” placing my hand over his I looked into his hard eyes
“Don’t, we could deal with him afterwards but right now I just need you” sighing he got up and took me into his arms. He set me down on his bathroom counter before moving to find his first aid kit. Turning around as best as I could I looked in the mirror 
“Oh God” 
My face was battered and bruised, lips split in different places, the strap of my dress was torn, there were bruises scattered across my chest and sholders, my neck showed clear signs that he had choked me
“Y/n” Aaron stood behind me holding the kit in his hand waiting for me to turn towards him again
“I know the last thing you want to do right now is talk about this but I need you to tell me everything that happened tonight” he gently took my hand in his and started removing the pieces of glass.
I told him everything, not only about tonight’s events but from the moment the abuse started not even leaving out the silghtest of details. I told him about the time he beat me black and blue which resulted in me taking a week vacation to hide the damage from the team. Then there was the time he dislocated my shoulder which I played off as a gym accident. While I relayed everything to him I saw the fire burning in his eyes as he gently cleaned the cuts on my face. His jaw cleaned and the grip on the gauze tightened. 
“Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” discarding the used guaze he came and stood between my legs
“I thought that it wouldn’t get this bad but I was so wrong. I should’ve listened to you when you said to leave him alone” the sobs racked my body, chest heaving as I let my emotions take over. Aaron wrapped his arms around me and I clung onto him, tears soaking through his shirt
“It’s gonna be alright” he rubbed my back while waiting for my cries to subside. We stayed in the position for a while before I started to calm down
“You could take a shower and I’ll get you some clothes to change into” pulling  away he kissed my temple before helping me off the counter. With one last look he left and I started removing my clothes and got into the shower
I stood under the showerhead welcoming the cold water that beat down my body. Taking the bottle of bodywash that I left in here last time I lathered myself and reinsed today’s events down the drain. Completely free of soap I shut the water off and got out, taking one of the clean towels on the towel rack and wrapped myself in it. Opening the door I almost bumped into Aaron who was about to knock
“I left the clothes on my bed meet me in the livingroom when you’re finished” Nodding I headed to his room and changed into his big t-shirt and boxer briefs. His scent evading my nostrils giving me a sense of peace
Ain’t no way he’s getting these back
Walking out to the livingroom I smelt the popcorn before I even saw the bowl that sat on the table while Aaron stuck a DVD into the player 
“What are we watching?” plopping down on the sofa I pulled the blanket over me leaving enough for him to join
“Space Buddies” he said smiling as he held the case up for me to see. Laughing I pat the spot next to me as the movie started playing and he sat, pulling me into his side. We spent the night stuffing our faces while watching the adorable pups on the screen, distracting us from the thing.
It felt good to not have that secret on my chest anymore and I know that the drama is far from over but tonight I’m enjoying the time with my best friend
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charming-charlie · 4 years ago
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Washed Away pt. 3
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Title // Washed Away pt. 3
Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader
Warnings // Teeny tiny swears, fear of dying/drowning/losing loved ones. Dead bodies unfortunately.
Summary // Who knew hanging out with Buck and Christopher for a day would lead to a life or death situation?
Word Count // 2.1k
Prompt // Hi! Can i request a fic where you were with Buck & Christopher when the tsunami hit? They could be dating or crushing on each other. If nothing comes to mind, then it’s completely fine to ignore this request! Have a nice day!’
Author’s Note // This is Part 3 of the Washed Away series. || Part 1 || Part 2
Tagged List // @aprildecker-blog​ @coffeewithoutcaffeine​ @daddysfavoritesexkitten​ @chenfordlove​ @comeasyoudar​ @carnationworld​ // If you want to be added or removed from the tagged list, please drop a note.
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“I guess we are going to hang out here a little bit longer,” Buck said gently. He kept his voice smooth and low, and you knew it was to keep both you and Christopher calm.
The water was slowing down. The waves, while present, were no longer rapid and threatening. Still, you didn’t feel comfortable moving, and neither did Buck. He held onto Christopher with one arm and keeping the other next to you. It was extremely comforting having him there, despite everything that was going on.
Too bad it was suddenly short-lived.
“HELP!” a woman suddenly screamed, somewhere away from the firetruck.
Buck immediately sat up at attention and looked around. His arm slipped out of your grip and you instantly felt a sense of dread as you followed his eyesight. Just once you wanted a moment with him, just once.
Buck slowly started to stand up, staring eagle-eyed at the damage before him. He was scanning the area, sweeping his eyes left and right in search of a body to go with the voice. What was once a road full of cars and people was now a river, and there didn’t appear to be any end in sight.
“Help me!” the voice screamed again, and you knew you weren’t going crazy.
Buck was at attention, his ears trained for all sorts of desperate cries for help. There was a woman waving for aid in the water, screaming for help. You stared in horror, knowing exactly what she was feeling in that moment. The fear that this could be the end…
No, Y/N. Let’s not think about that right now. You’re fine.
“Chris, um… I need you to sit right here for me with Y/N. You promise me?” Buck crouched down to reach Christopher’s line of sight; his tone was serious.
“Yes,” Christopher said.
You wanted to shake your head and forbid Buck from leaving the firetruck. Forbid? Really?
He seemed to sense your fear and apprehension and he turned to face you. If it weren’t for the immediate danger that you were facing, you knew you would be leaping into his arms like a knockoff Disney princess, but it wasn’t that easy. It was very, very difficult to even think about letting him out of your sight, and here he was, being a damn prince and diving into the face of danger.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he looked at you, frowning slightly, like he almost didn’t believe his own words, “watch Christopher for me. Please.”
The woman was still screaming for help and Buck couldn’t wait another second. He reached for your hand and you held it tightly, but it slipped out of your grip before you even had a chance to hold on.
The ex-firefighter did what he did best. He grabbed the ladder and catapulted it off the truck so that it formed a bridge between the truck and a pile of what appeared to be a random island of cars and vehicles. Was that stable? It didn’t look very stable.
He had the firehose piled on his shoulder to use as a rope and he began walking across the very unsafe ladder bridge. You were watching him, entranced by his knowledge of survival skills, but your breath was caught in the back of your throat with each step he took. There were more than a few times where the ladder shook unevenly below his feet and he had to steady himself by putting his arms out to the side like a tightrope walker. Watching this scene was painful and yet you couldn’t look away.
He had to jump into the water to reach the woman and you lost sight of him after that. Your heart was pounding erratically in your chest and for a second you thought you wouldn’t know what to do without Evan Buckley in your life. Damn, Y/N, is this really where your mind is going?
She was still screaming for help and you saw a flash of Buck’s orange shirt climbing over one of the cars to reach her. You would’ve let out a sigh of relief but nothing about this situation was relieving.
Christopher grabbed you by the pant leg and tugged on it. Immediately you turned your attention to the little boy, feeling the beginnings of a heart attack. Was he okay?
He seemed to be. He was smiling a little, probably having no idea just how dangerous the situation was. Oh, what it must be like to be a kid, naïve and unaware of things.
“Is Buck okay?” Christopher asked. There was a slight uncertainty to his voice, and you were surprised from catching it. Maybe Christopher knew exactly what was happening all along.
You turned your head to find Buck, but you lost him again. And… there was that panic building up once more.
“Hey, I need you to let go! Let go! You’re doing great!”
You heard his voice shouting over the waves and it took a few minutes to find him in the water. Apparently, he used the hose like a rope, just as you predicted, by tying the other end to a tree and letting a woman swim towards it and grab on. It was such an impressive maneuver, something you would never have thought of in a million years.
He grabbed the flailing woman and used the rope sort of like a zip line back to the truck. You jumped to action, reaching over the edge of the truck and helping her up. She landed on the roof with a bit of a thud and your hand reached for Buck’s to help him up next.
The moment he touched your hand, the two of you froze in fear, staring at each other with bated breath.
There were more cries for help. A lot more.
He turned to look behind him and you looked straight ahead, past him. Many people were swimming to the truck, calling for help, waving their arms for attention.
Buck’s hand slipped out of yours and you tried not to notice. When were you finally going to have your moment with him? It was scaring you inside, how dependent you suddenly became on him. It wasn’t the fact that he saved you, no. It was before that. And now, there was a possibility that you two might not live through this. You hoped it was a small possibility, but it was still there. And you needed that moment with him, a moment to show him, thank him, and appreciate him for everything he has done to enrich the quality of your life. You need that moment before it is too late.
“Watch him,” Buck said as he looked at you, pointing to Christopher.
You nodded, letting him know he could count on you. You couldn’t say anything. Your voice was frozen in your throat and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.
Buck clung to the hose bridge he made, and the other tsunami victims grabbed on. They half shimmied, half swam, down the hose to the truck and you were helping every single person on board. Occasionally, you would glance at Christopher, who was fine. The woman, the first one Buck saved, was next to the little boy and keeping a firm eye on him, allowing you to focus on helping the others onto the roof of the emergency vehicle.
Within minutes, the roof filled up and people were saved. Buck was the last one on board, and he flopped down, gasping for breath. You had no idea the amount of adrenaline it must’ve taken him, but yours was also wearing off. You felt exhausted, numb, and just downright over this whole thing.
He sat next to Christopher and you sat next to him, just like before everyone had to go play hero. It felt normal, and you thought that was weird. This shouldn’t be normal, none of it should, but it was. At least for now.
“You amaze me, buddy,” Buck said to Christopher. His hand reached for yours and you grabbed it instinctively as Buck turned to face you. “And you amaze me too.”
If it weren’t for the insane flooding and sitting on a firetruck boat, you knew your heart would be skipping beats left and right. Was this the moment?
“Oh, no. Do you see that?”
“Look over there.”
The other people in the truck started speaking up, softly at first, but enough to grab your attention along with Buck. Cool, this was not the moment.
You weren’t prepared for what you saw. Dead bodies started floating down and Buck immediately turned to Christopher and tried to distract the boy from seeing them. He picked Christopher up and sat him on the edge of the truck so that his back was facing the bodies as they floated down the watery road.
Your hand was on Buck’s shoulder to steady yourself as you tried to look away. You dealt with dead people often, it was part of your job as a nurse. But this… this was different. The people in the water shouldn’t be dead, and that’s what made the whole situation sick.
Buck’s smile turned into a frown as he watched the victims float on by, and he turned back to look at you. There was something unreadable in his eyes.
The horrible moment passed, and people took their spots back on the roof. Christopher, Buck, and you sat in your usual section toward the front of the truck and for now, you just waited.
“I don’t know what I’m going to tell your father,” Buck spoke up, speaking to Christopher, “I take you out one time and uh… look what happens.”
“You saved me,” Christopher said in reply, like he didn’t have to think about it, “you saved Nurse Y/N, and you saved them.”
The crowd of people on the roof of the truck were waiting, looking around, being quiet, but the gesture was clear enough. Buck definitely did something remarkable today and you were hoping he saw it. You hoped he saw just how amazing he was and how brave, heroic, and daring his decisions were to save everybody on the truck. Hell, he saved you, and that’s not something you plan to let slip from his memory. You owed him your life at this point.
“No,” Buck said, and he turned to look at you, talking to both you and Christopher at the same time, “we did that together. Me and you make a great team.”
Christopher moved in and hugged Buck, and the ex-firefighter wasted no time hugging the little boy back. Using his other arm, he pulled you into the hug as well, and it was nice. A small group hug with the three of you.
And then…
All the sudden, the water was rising and splashing around the truck. Harsh waves crashed against the truck, pushing against it. The vehicle lopped and shook within the water, feeling unstable for the first time. Trash and various items were scratching against the sides, sending piercing screeches to your sensitive ears.
Buck was on his feet quickly. He watched what was going on with eagle eyes, staring hard. It was like his brain was calculating the best course of action, but too much was happening too soon, and he couldn’t land on a solution quick enough.
People started falling off the truck and into the water.
Buck, gripping Christopher with one arm and you with the other, yelled at people to get down. Seeking shelter was the best course of action but it was hard to hear him over the waves.
It felt like another tsunami, another surge.
A man screamed for help, someone who had fallen overboard. You quickly rushed to the side, and Buck was right behind you. You held out your hand to reach for the man, Buck was holding onto you so that you wouldn’t fall in. You don’t know what propelled you to act this way, but you did. Instinct took over. You grabbed him, pulled him out of the water, and Buck moved next to you to help you. Together, the two of you heaved the man onto the hood of the firetruck.
But something happened.
Something crashed into the truck, so quick and powerful, that your grip on the man was broken and he fell back into the harsh rapids. Buck’s first response was to grab you firmly so that you wouldn’t fall in after him. Thankfully you didn’t but a certain realization hit you soon enough.
Both of you scrambled off the hood of the truck and looked at the people remaining.
Christopher wasn’t there. The little boy was nowhere in sight.
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sassysnowperson · 3 years ago
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Total Words Posted 2021: 201,753!
Total Works: 32 works in 14 fandoms with 23 different relationships (counting Gen pairs).
As compared to last years: 192,177 words, 24 works in 6 fandoms with 18 different relationships (counting Gen pairs).
Compare/Contrast between this year and the last: I would have sworn up and down that I wrote less this year than last year. Maybe more works, but surely less words. It's been a slog, but I don't think I gave myself credit that this is a continuation of a two-year slog, and not a New 2021 Problem. Honestly, doing this review is a surprise in all the categories. I wrote many works! In many fandoms! With many different relationships! Wow! I am going to take a minute to pat myself on the back.
Major thing(s) I learned this year: I should probably finish and edit any fic before I start posting it. I now have 2 large fics haunting me without finishing - Arrivals, Departures, Connections (which I didn't post on AT ALL this year, discussed below in goals) and Found in the Falling (finished, needs editing and posting). Doesn't feel good.
The other thing I was reminded is how much fun it is to write creatively with a buddy, and the value of a good beta. Shoutout to anyone who chatted with me, generated fic ideas, took the time to beta my fic. I've loved talking with you all.
Variety! I wrote a TON of Original Fiction - eight original works! And really enjoyed it. I also wrote a fairy tale, an annotated ballad, epistolary, and stretched my abilities in a lot of different directions.
How I did on my Goals for Last Year: Mixed bag!
Write at least 50k of Arrivals, Connections, Departures - I continue to have a giant brick wall between me and finishing this fic. I probably need to figure out what it is. I think…it's actually possibly pandemic related. My productivity on it tanked just about with the start of COVID-19. I'm thinking it's two things - one, I've been really stressed, which has made it very difficult to plot and continue long fic, and two, the airline industry was hit SORT OF HARD by COVID-19, and writing a fun airline pilots fic now has a terrible cognitive dissonance to it. Actually spent some time talking to a friend about this - I think I might find a narrative point for a satisfying end to the Bodhi/Wedge story and write to it, circling back to all the other stuff that I have plotted out when the inspiration strikes.
Read and Comment more, maybe run a reading BINGO - I did run a reading/commenting bingo! It was fun, and I'm glad I did it.
Goals for This Year: Have fun writing. I've been really stressed, I would like to live with less stress, I don't want to set a productivity goal. Maybe I work on my WIPs, maybe I shelve them, maybe I finish them! But I'm not going to set a goal related to it.
Celebrate time spent consuming content - instead of beating myself up for not writing, maybe I celebrate the cool new books I'm reading/games I'm playing/stuff I'm watching? I'm re-playing Fallout 4 right now and it's great!
I will say I'd like to listen to and comment on more podfics. Audio has done wonders when I'm in a reading slump, and podficcers need so much more love.
Under the readmore is a round-up of the fics I wrote in 2021. I’m going to group them by fandom and sub-fandom for Star Wars and Marvel.
If you’ve been reading my work, talk to me!
What’s been a favorite story? Most unexpected? What was the first thing of mine you read? If you're subscribed to me or just track what comes out, what did you think of the absolutely WILD variety in my fics this year?
Note: Titles below are links to the works.
Star Wars
Rogue One
Unthinkable (Davits Draven/Antoc Merrick) (19815 words) - Antoc Merrick has been captured.
A Very Bad Saboteur (Original Droid/Original Human, F/F) (2163 words) - The little organic in the drab-grey uniform that all the Imperial-aligned organics wore was a very bad saboteur
Original Trilogy
The Snow King (Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker) (1861 words) - There is an old lie that adults have always told Princess Leia Organa: Luke Skywalker is not your brother. There is a new lie they have just begun to spin: you cannot save him.
The Mandalorian
Empty Spaces Between Stars (Gen) (2267 words) - Bib's court was decaying. Settlements were revolting, raiders were coming in, and Bib wasn't smart enough or strong enough to keep them off. Nyll needed another plan.
Sequel Trilogy
Meet Cute (Zorii Bliss/Rose Tico) (883 words) - Rose hears a squeaking from the engine block, and is not in the mood to deal with this.
Star Wars - In-Universe Crossover
Selected Readings from the Comm Records of Luke Skywalker (Bodhi Rook/Luke Skywalker) (4224 words) - Three months after the Empire surrenders, Luke Skywalker receives a New Republic mission briefing with an oddly familiar name.
Selected Readings from the Collected Physical Documents of Bodhi Rook (Bodhi Rook/Luke Skywalker) (1007 words) - "I will come home to you, I promise."
Unique Acquaintances - (K-2SO & L3-37) (2052 words) - While stuck outside a no-droids-allowed luxury casino, K-2SO makes an interesting new friend.
Marvel
The Falcon and the Winter Soldier
Found in the Falling (James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson) (48428 words) - Bucky'd been looking for something for a long time, and Sam was beginning to think he'd found a piece of it in the Wilson family home.
yielding to a softened day (James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson) (4448 words) - While trapped in a closet together, Sam discovers something important about Hydra's biological modification program
Blackbird Wings (James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson) (4651 words) - Sam's shoulders itched worse than the one summer day he and Sarah had played in the creek without putting on any mosquito repellent and Sam had gotten bit forty-four times.
building wings on the way down (James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson) (3604 words) - Pacific Rim fusion fic. Both Sam and Bucky were once jaeger pilots. Both Sam and Bucky lost their partners. That didn't mean they were destined to be a good fit with each other.
Marvel Cinematic Universe
A Private Restoration - (James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Sam Wilson) (1769 words) - Sam was too late to catch Rhodey.
Original Work
Surrender Denied (Original M/M) (17846 words) - When the war ended, the victorious Corbash Empire were not entirely ruthless with their demands. In the terms of surrender lay a curious clause: One officer from the defeated Lissial Confederation, to be joined in marriage to the victorious General Nicul Druken.
Follow the River Down (Original M/M) (17739 words) - David Jade's budding rockstar career stalled out when he was outed as bisexual. Years later, he's built an out and proud life and a decent career as a working musician out of the limelight. It turns out, though, that David's biggest fan is the one of the world's biggest superstars, and the limelight comes calling once again.
Smoke and Fire (Original M/M) (1427 words) - Of all the villains and heroes that dotted the landscape of New Polis, Smokeshade was the one that cared the most about collateral damage.
Patronage (Original F/F) (11220 words) - When Meg's childhood love and best friend went and got married to somebody else, Meg responded by cutting off their association entirely. She has more important things to focus on, anyway. Like her inventions. She has good ideas, and just needs some financial support to bring them to life. But when a chance meeting a decade later brings them back together, it turns out that Meg's old love may be the perfect person to sponsor her work. Can Meg put aside her broken heart long enough to make her dreams come true?
If I Can't Let Go (Original M/M) (11092 words) - Orthopedic surgeon Luke Anderson thought that escaping the big city for a small mountain hospital would mean the end of his burnout. Unfortunately, all he finds in his new start is new stress. Until he meets a charming EMT who has some fun ideas on how to relax.
Silvered and Golden (Original M/M) (5701 words) - Ezilio had devoted himself to Terrano long before Terrano's hair had gone spun-sunshine yellow and he had been declared the Golden of the Fourteen Realms.
Tea Heist! (Original F&F) (1962 words) - The three-span planetary survey had gone on for eighteen spans, and the commander was hoarding all the good tea.
Convergence (Original F/F) (1097 words) - Leddi killed the love of her life. Now it was time to bring her back.
Crossover Fandom
Phoenixes (Quynh/Elizabeth Swann) (3198 words) - Davy Jones has found a drowned woman. Unfortunately, she's not dead.
Ocean's 11
Conmen and Thieves (Danny Ocean/Rusty Ryan) (2453 words) - People made assumptions, about the two of them. They took one look at slim, fashionable Rusty and broad, square-jawed Danny and figured, yeah, if those two guys are fucking, the blond is definitely the one getting bossed around.
The Goblin Emperor
A Small Chance of Happiness (Maia Drazhar & Vedero Drazhin) (1316 words) - "You need our marriage," Vedero Drazhin said to Maia one spring night when they were pressed together on the rooftop, using Vedero's telescope to examine a comet that was visiting their night sky.
Much Ado About Nothing
Another for Working Days (Beatrice/Benedick/Don Pedro) (13172 words) - Don Pedro proposes, Beatrice accepts, and Benedick never saw it coming.
Dessert (Beatrice/Benedick/Don Pedro) (1697 words) - Earlier in their marriage, Don Pedro tried and failed to give them space.
Harry Potter
The Star Wind: A Literary, Interlingual Translation of the Creation Ballad of the Centaurs, by Ilfred G. Hubblestripe (In-Universe Ballad/Academic Paper) (1022 words) - Prelude by Ilfred G. Hubblestripe; Annotations by Ilfred G. Hubblestripe; Post-Script by Ilfred G. Hubblestripe. Further Postscript by Firenze of the Forbidden Forest Centaur Colony
Avatar The Last Airbender
Should Have Read More History Books (Aang Character Study) (1943 words) - After an unexpected trip through time, Aang decides to change history. One problem. He slept through most of history.
Gundam Wing
Tenderness in the Tangle (Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell) (6353 words)
The Good Place
Unintended Consequences (Jason Mendoza & Michael) (2000 words) - One of Micheal's plans has unintended consequences, and he intends to get to the bottom of this.
The Adventure Zone: Graduation
Ritual Betrothal Conquest (Gray the Demon Prince/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt) (3274 words) - When Gray returned from his realm, Fitz worried he was going to have to fight on his hands. The good news: Grey doesn't plan on fighting Fitzroy. The bad news: he wants to marry him.
Star Trek: The Next Generation
Tea, Earl Grey, Hot (Gen) (69 words) - Picard takes a break
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delimeful · 4 years ago
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not always what they seem (2)
warnings: inappropriate jokes, remus being remus, mild panic attack, fear, miscommunication
long overdue commission for @legendsgates​! thank you for your patience and support 💚
Chapter 1
-
Janus watched the giant creatures around them devolve into more of that buzzing, clicking language as Remus waved his arm around enthusiastically in response to them.
“What are you-- Stop that,” the emo kid hissed, his whole body going tense, and Janus leaned back slightly just in time to avoid getting caught in the half-tackle that Remus was subjected to. “What if they just asked who wants to be first to be dissected, huh?”
“Oooh, kinky,” Remus cackled from where the kid had pinned his wrists to the floor. “Do you think they’ll probe me first?”
Janus rolled his eyes, and then stiffened as a shadow fell over them. “Kid—!”
He could see the moment the red alien’s hand made contact, the kid’s face immediately draining of all color as those strange talons wrapped around him and started to lift.
Almost instantly, Remus surged to his feet, grabbing the kid’s arm before he could be lifted out of range. The hold was so tight it almost looked painful, but the kid clung back desperately. He looked smaller than ever without the bulky hoodie around him, his frame barely concealed by a worn, slightly oversized band shirt.
Remus’s face twisted into a snarl. “Hey, hands to yourself, you shitty Mothra rip-off!”
Janus quickly rose to his feet as well, looking up past the kid’s terrified gaze to see the alien had paused, it’s strange antenna protrusions twitching. The facial features didn’t give him much to work with, so he attempted to see what the creature was seeing, contextless: the kid tackling Remus for big showy arm movements, Remus coming after him. Was it trying to seperate them like a pet owner with a pair of squabbling dogs?
He shifted forwards, setting a hand on Remus’ shoulder and expertly drawing all attention to himself. Remus glanced at him and then reluctantly cut off his litany of extremely descriptive curses, though his grip on the kid didn’t falter. Janus tilted his head back to carefully lock eyes with the alien.
“No. Stop,” he spoke with a stern emphasis. “Put him down.”
He reached up to grab the kid’s arm as well, tugging lightly, and then repeated himself slowly.
“Double D, buddy, I’d bet all three of my balls that they don’t understand English,” Remus said, “no matter how slow you say it.”
Janus didn’t break eye contact with the giant, moving to point at the kid and then the floor of their enclosure emphatically. “That doesn’t mean we can’t communicate with them.”
At the perfect moment to dramatically accentuate his point, the alien seemed to concede, lowering the kid down until his feet were touching the floor. The guy tore out of the oversized grip as soon as it loosened, nearly tumbling head over heels. Janus caught him by the arm, and Remus took the opportunity to jump forwards and click his teeth menacingly at the giant hand. The alien recoiled immediately, looking much like an elephant shying away from a mouse.
“I volunteer to get probed and this is how you fucks repay me? Just grabbing kids all willy-nilly? Have some respect!”
The kid muttered something, half-lost under his panicked breaths, and Remus turned to look at him. “What was that, short stack?”
“Virgil,” he repeated irritably. “It’s Virgil, not ‘kid’, definitely not ‘short stack’. I’m twenty years old, for fuck’s sake.”
Janus and Remus shared a glance over the newly-named Virgil’s head, and that was enough to set the man off into another fit of cackling laughter.
---
Roman watched, enthralled, as the little creature bedecked in green threw its head back and made a hair-raising clamor.
Intriguingly enough, the other two didn’t seem to react too strongly to such a loud outburst. The yellow one turned its face to the side as its tiny features pinched into an expression that Roman couldn’t quite decode, and the shaky purple one’s pale face seemed to shift color as it made an emphatic hand gesture of some sort. Patton would be taking plenty of notes later.
The motions, the expressions, they were all intentional and full of meaning, just like the pointing and sounds Yellow had made when Roman had tried to separate Purple from the group. He still didn’t quite grasp why the other specimens had responded so strongly; Purple had clearly been attacking, though thankfully no serious harm had occurred thanks to Roman swiftly jumping into action.
“This is incredible,” Logan murmured from beside him, and Roman couldn’t help but agree.
“There’s so much to analyze here,” he mumbled. “Any small animal would flee from a predator’s grasp, but they recognized that we’re sapient, and Yellow even approached instead to mediate!”
“Yellow?” Patton asked, a bit of teasing in his voice. “I thought your nicknames were always a bit wordier?”
“I can’t properly nickname someone unless I have their self-presentation and personality, Pat!” Roman defended. “It’s more of a… designation. After all, I can’t very well ask their names, can I?”
“I mean, we could certainly try!” Patton suggested with an optimistic lilt to his voice. “I’m not a linguist for nothing, y’know!”
“It might take some time to communicate intent, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Patton.” Logan’s ears flicked at the pleading look the Nihl sent him. “Still, I’ll admit there’s… no harm in a first attempt.”
Roman unsubtly chittered a laugh at his coworker’s expense, and Patton brightened immediately.
“Glad that you agree it’s… wordth a try!”
---
Janus was drawn away from the amusing argument going on between his fellow captives (the topic being how old one had to be to be an actual ‘for-realsies’ adult, federal law be damned) by two of the aliens simultaneously making odd, dragged out noises almost like stuttering groans.
“They sound like fucking zombies,” Virgil muttered from where he’d appeared at Janus’s shoulder. He’d snapped back to watching the three with blatant paranoia the moment they were loud enough to catch his notice.
The kid wasn’t subtle at all, but it wasn’t like he was wrong to be on guard. They were still abducted, regardless of how fantastical or impossible their captors seemed. Seeing how significant the size difference was, they’d have to work on escaping through… more cunning means.
Janus carefully held his position as the three giants crowded around the enclosure again, ignoring the way Virgil reached out to grip the back of his hoodie, either for comfort or in preparation to pull Janus from danger. This time, the three chattered amongst themselves for a long moment before going quiet and turning to the multiple-armed one.
Automatically, the humans mirrored the gesture, and the recipient of their attention met their gazes carefully one by one before placing a rigid, vertical hand under their chin and holding it there.
“Patton,” the alien said, slow and clear. It looked at them expectantly, and then repeated the phrase. “Patton.”
It was definitely some kind of word, that was clear enough. When not caught up in the rapid-fire chittering nature of the alien language, it was much easier to decipher.
“Patton?” Virgil muttered, and then squeaked when the alien stared at him with sudden intensity, hands flicking up and down erratically. Except for, Janus noted, the one still under its chin.
“Patton,” it said again, and then lowered the hand. Next to it, the insect-like one put a much bonier hand under its own angular chin.
“Roman,” it said, with a few subtle clicks that probably couldn’t be replicated by human mouths. Janus nodded, the pieces clicking into place. “Roman.”
Sure enough, next to make the hand gesture was the last alien, who introduced itself with a note of rippling bass overlapping with something like Logan. It was probably a bit mangled as he echoed it back, but different vocal chords made things difficult.
“You communing with them, Dee?” Remus asked from where he was crowding over his other shoulder. “That’s no sign language I’ve ever used. You speak alien and you’re not even going to share with the class?”
Janus elbowed him off, and then stepped forwards, and placed his own hand under his chin vertically, studying the ripple of reaction that got from the aliens.
“Dee,” he said, choosing to use his nickname as he had with the other humans.
The aliens immediately dissolved into excited chattering, which Janus patiently waited out. His fellow earthlings were similarly surprised.
“Wait, they’re doing introductions right now?” Virgil’s head whipped back and forth rapidly. Remus was gleefully attempting to mimic the weird, echoey quality of the voice of ‘Logan’ and getting concerningly close.
The one with all the arms-- Patton, it was Patton, he needed to remember if he wanted to make any progress at all here-- let out a string of syllables, slowed down but still nonsensical to them, and reached out.
Virgil jumped back and Remus started forwards, but Janus cut off all movement with a quickly snapped “Stop!”
Including the alien’s motion. He resisted the urge to smile at the success, instead looking up at Patton and tilting his head slightly. “What is it?”
Patton didn’t understand his words, but the questioning tone seemed to carry over, and after a beat, they moved their hand forward again just slightly before pausing, as though asking permission.
Janus weighed his options for a moment, before stepping forward. Virgil, who was still latched onto the back of him, came along with only a single sound of half-panicked protest. Patton correctly assumed that this was Janus giving his assent, and moved their hand closer, much slower this time.
With delicate, careful motions, they pushed Janus’s left hand out from under his chin, and then carefully curled a finger around his right arm, tugging that one up instead. Janus realized his mistake after a moment, and placed the right hand under his chin instead. Patton withdrew with a bright hum.
“What is happening,” Virgil hissed, and Janus glanced over his shoulder at him. The color had drained from his face, and his hand was white-knuckled where it was holding onto Janus’s borrowed outfit.
“I was mirroring their… introductory gesture, I suppose, and it seems that the meaning changes if I don’t use the correct hand. In this case, my right one,” he explained. “They’re going to want to know your name. Do you want me to assist?”    
Before he could answer, Remus was bouncing forwards, placing a hand under his own chin to gain the aliens’ attention.
“Call me I-Am-A-Buttface,” he half-shouted, grinning wildly.
---
“Did… did anyone else catch that one’s name?”
Roman watched as ‘D’ reached over and tugged the other tiny alien back by the collar roughly before they could speak again, astonished by how the other only let out what might be a cackle at the rough handling.
Not more astonished than he’d been by the alien catching on so quickly, though. Logan had been rendered completely speechless for a record amount of time, and Patton was still happily waving his hands back and forth at the success.
D visibly let out a long breath, and turned back to them, placing the correct hand under their chin this time. “D,” they repeated, and then switched things up.
They pulled the rambunctious one closer and placed their hand under that one’s chin, too. “Remus.”
“Are they-- introducing the other one as well?” Roman asked, and none of them could answer. ‘Remus’ didn’t seem to object, though they continued to speak in that rounded language. “That’s certainly a bit... unorthodox.”
D looked over at the only unnamed alien, the angry one that was standing at D’s shoulder, and after a moment, they jerked their head strangely. D seemed to understand, and held a hand palm-up in that one’s direction.
The unnamed alien put their hand in the proper introductory position, and had a few false starts before finally getting their name out. “Virgil.”
“Virgil,” Patton echoed excitedly. “That’s Virgil! Virgil, D, and Remus!”  
“Stars above,” Logan said faintly, “they really are just people but smaller.”
Roman couldn’t help but agree with the astounded sentiment. It hadn’t really sunk in before, but knowing the personal names of individual members of the unfamiliar species… “This could have been a disaster. Why were they labeled as primitive? Did the recorders even actually observe the planet they’re from? This seems a little hard to miss!”
“Easy, Roman,” Patton reached over to run a couple of gentle hands over his agitated wings. “You’re scaring the little guys.”
Sure enough, when he looked over, he could see all three of the tiny aliens were staring at him. He clicked an apology, and then echoed it in Common. “My apologies, small friends.”
“I agree with you, though… We can’t treat them as anything less, not like the tests would have us do. I’m not sure what our next step should be,” Patton admitted, and they turned as one to look at Logan. The Glanrim had a recognizably enthusiastic glint to his eyes.
“We’ll have to present our case to the Council. If we want them to believe us, we’ll need sufficient evidence that our specimens are sentient, sapient, and deserving of the standard rights,” he told them, tail swishing. “Our next step is to obtain that proof, through whatever means we can.”
Roman and Patton shared a glance before nodding in agreement. They turned towards the aliens with determination, and then stopped completely short.
“We’re… going to have to find some method of communicating our intentions,” Logan said, tapping his fingers on his shoulder in thought. “I believe the lack of such communication is what caused Virgil to behave so timidly in the first place.”
“Yeah, just reaching in and grabbing them probably isn’t a good idea,” Roman admitted. “What’s the plan, then?”
“Well, this can be a test in itself. Assuming that they can discuss amongst themselves what tests each of us did on the first run-through…”
---
Janus stared blankly at the three hands that had been set down along the floor of their enclosure, palms-up, each corresponding to one of the aliens. He turned to look at Virgil and Remus, just to ascertain that he was seeing the same thing they were.
Remus tilted his head to a painful-looking angle, and then nodded to himself. “It’s just like those choose-your-own-adventure books, except with huge aliens that we don’t know the intentions of! Fun!”  
“Oh, so they’re insane? They’re out of their skulls?” Virgil asked, his voice upping an octave in disbelief. “They really think we’re going to just literally put our lives in their hands, after they abducted and tormented us?”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to have to do,” Janus muttered, and held his hands up when Virgil turned to him with a glare. “Just listen for a moment. What are they doing right now?”
“Trying to trick us,” Virgil shot back immediately.
“Getting handsy!” Remus offered.
Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “No and definitely no. They’re offering us a choice,” he clarified, “because we’ve done something to shift their opinions of us.”
“Some choice,” Virgil muttered. Janus pointed at him, making him jerk back slightly.
“Exactly. What do you think they’re going to do if we refuse to engage with them at all?”
“... Grab us anyways?”
Janus nodded, casting another look over at the waiting aliens. “If that happens, we’ve relinquished any and all control over the situation, no matter how small. Instead, we need to take advantage of this while we can. We’ll be putting our lives in their hands regardless, so it’s best to act strategically here.”
“Well, I know what I want.” Remus sidled a step away from them and towards the aliens. “Dibs on the hot one.”
“The what one?” Virgil gaped, and Remus ignored him in favor of getting a running start and then throwing himself directly onto Logan’s hand. Unsurprisingly, Logan seemed unsure how to react to a human sprawling over him like Rose from Titanic. Janus was too professional to slap a hand onto his forehead, but the urge was there. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulder when the kid started towards them.
“Forget it. He’s made his choice, and he doesn’t seem like the type to be swayed by common sense,” Janus said, rolling eyes and choosing very emphatically to not question his fellow human’s apparent qualifiers for someone being considered ‘hot’. “You need to make a decision of your own.”
Virgil shook him off, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “This is crazy. All of it. Forever. You know that, right?”
“I’m aware,” Janus replied, voice dry. Virgil shot him another look, and then seemed to actually consider the options, though grumpily. With his shoulders still up around his ears, he looked vaguely like a very angry turtle. Janus kept this observation to himself.
“Remus called the one with all the arms-- uh, Patton? He called them boring and said all they did was talk at him,” he finally offered, glancing over at the alien.
Janus nodded, keeping his own feelings on the matter off his face. “You want that one, then?”
“What?” Virgil looked at him, confused. “No, I mean you should go with them. You’ll probably have an easier time figuring out what they want from Patton.”
Janus paused, thrown off. “Hold on, that-- that leaves you with Roman. I… don’t think you’ll have the best time, considering.”
“And you will?” Virgil took Janus’s silence as the admittance it was, and nodded to himself. “I can do it. I’m tougher than you think. And anyways, if I let you go with him, he’d probably try to swipe my hoodie. Not happening.”
Janus huffed with exasperation, and Virgil gave him the closest expression he’d gotten to a smile yet before shoving his shoulder slightly and stomping up to Roman’s hand. The alien looked just as unhappy as Virgil about the decision.
---
“Well, that was an… interesting selection process,” Logan said, lifting up his hand slightly and finding that Remus seemed content to be toted around.
It was more than he could say about his own matchup. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” he grumbled as ‘Virgil’ continued to stand there, tiny arms bundled around themself, tiny eyes staring up at Roman aggressively.
The little creature didn’t seem intent on even touching Roman, let alone actually being picked up and taken anywhere. Roman looked over to where D was seating themself on the edge of Patton’s hand like a king upon their throne, and then back to Virgil, who didn’t move.
Maybe they expected Roman to do all the heavy lifting? He carefully lifted his hand, curling it around Virgil’s tiny frame, and received a vicious hiss for his efforts. He recoiled, antennae flattening. He hadn’t even known these creatures could hiss!
“You alright, kiddo?” Patton appeared next to him, one hand hovering as a safety net for D. Roman pasted on a smile immediately.
“Of course! Just working out methods of transport with… Virgil. They seem a bit less charismatic than D when it comes to conveying intent, unfortunately.” The tiny creature continued to stare at him, gaze only dipping away to meet D’s briefly.
Patton studied Virgil for a moment, gaze moving between their hunched form and Roman’s fidgeting hands. “They might be a little touch shy. The transport containers are still usable, if you need them!”
“Ah, that’s right! Patton, you’re a genius.” Roman exchanged good luck hums with the Nihl and waited until he departed to grab the transport container and present it to Virgil. “Is this what you want to use, you picky creature?”  
As though to spite him, Virgil’s skin shifted to a paler shade, and they went so far as to step back slightly. Roman allowed himself a few frustrated clickswears, and then stopped as he noticed the creature stumble slightly.
“Virgil…?” he attempted the alien’s name, but there was no response beyond their rapid air intake increasing. They didn’t look so good.
Feeling oddly off-balance, he quickly stowed the transport container away, and kept his hands out of sight to give the poor guy some more space. “Easy, easy. Please for the love of all that is good, don’t die of shock on me.”
Virgil didn’t seem to improve at first, but after a moment, they started muttering to themself, and slowly but surely, began to return to baseline. Roman felt as though years had been taken off his lifespan.
“Alright, if you feel so strongly about it, there’s no reason I can’t improvise and simply work from here,” he rambled, moving a seat and a tray of tools to the side of the wide-low enclosure. “Logan wasn’t kidding when he called you easily startled, was he?”
Virgil eyed the tray with wide eyes, and when Roman picked up the thermometer, they skittered back out of easy reach, arms lifted in what must have been a defensive gesture. Like a frightened Arkbit, but less fluffy, and Roman had to actually try to coax them over rather than just holding them still for the process.
“It’s just a thermometer! It won’t prick you or anything, on my honor,” Roman swore, and when that didn’t do the trick, he used the device on himself instead. “See, I just place it against my skin for a few moments, and… there! A perfectly healthy me!”
He extended the sensor end of the thermometer in Virgil’s direction, but didn’t advance. “C’mon, just give it a shot. We’re going to need your baseline in case you get sick, and it’ll make it easier to get the others’ temps if you can tell them I’m not going to electrocute them or anything.”
Virgil dithered for a long moment, but Roman’s patience was rewarded when the alien finally stalked closer and smacked his hand against the sensor like a challenge. Luckily, it was precise enough to work accurately even with such a small specimen, and soon enough Roman has a temperature.
“Huh… you’re warmer than me and Patton, that’s for sure,” Roman mumbled. “Logan probably already has all sorts of classification theories about you guys, but I think it’s at least safe to say you’re mammalian.”
Virgil tilted their head slightly at him, and Roman shook his head. “We’ll have more to talk about once we actually manage to make a breakthrough on language. For now,” he held up a small scale, normally used for weighing precise chemical measurements, “back to the boring stuff!”
The tiny alien made a strange drawn out noise, and placed their hands over their face, but they didn’t get all tense and breathy again, and that was progress in Roman’s book.
So long as they kept making progress, things would probably turn out okay.
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ill-skillsgard · 4 years ago
Text
Bred For Blood - Part 19 - Promise-Promise
Title: Bred For Blood
Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of coma/unconsciousness, injuries, and sex in this part*
Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC
Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.
Note: Sooo many feelings in this part, you guys. Next part will be the finale! My gosh, it’s actually coming. Stick around because it’s gonna be a doozy! Much love to all the readers who’ve waited patiently and shout out to any new readers who’ve taken the time to let me know their thoughts. I appreciate all the comments and reblogs forever! With that being said, please comment and reblog. It’d really make my day. XO
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18
Zed waited for Vee next to the window overlooking the vast green ocean of vegetation. The sliver of sun painted the sky aflush, rolling west in shades of violet. Pinprick stars perforated the melting spectrum, and the phantom moon showed its impatient face fully before the horizon swallowed all light. It was a soothing array of scenery, and Zed rested her head on the glass until footsteps drew her attention to the door. She smiled as Vee came in carrying a plate of zucchini fritters and mashed chickpeas, returning the warm greeting silently.
"Hungry? Axel wasn't a fan. He wants a cheeseburger from McDonald's," said Vee, handing the platter to Zed.
She accepted the dish with a nod. "Did you tell him why that's not possible?"
Vee sighed. The dark beneath his eyes seemed permanent now. "I didn't get into detail. He wouldn't understand."
"Shouldn't we make him understand?"
"It's too soon. The big lug just woke up. It was a challenge just to get him to lie there. Soon he'll want to leave the lab, and I don't know how he'll fare around his adoring fans."
Zed bit into a greasy fritter and scooped a dollop of the paste with the leftover crescent. "He'll love the ego-boost, I'm sure."
"That's what I'm afraid of. All those people will confuse him. Who knows what that might do to his head. We're in a delicate situation."
"Axel seems to like me. Maybe I can convince him to stay put."
Vee grimaced from the thought of Axel working Zed over with his motoring mouth and crass sense of humour. The scientist had grown accustomed to nights alone with her, cooking together and discussing their future. The night they'd spent alone in the greenhouse rang in his heart; the night he admitted his feelings and begged her to squash them. The thought of her alone with Axel picked a scab he didn't know he had.
"You're worried about something," Zed said.
Vee snapped from his bittersweet reverie and sighed. "Am I ever not worrying?"
"True," Zed snorted. "Now, eat. I can't finish this all myself."
The pair finished the plate before Vee set the dish aside and motioned her to the sofa.
"We need to talk about what we found in Glott's notes. I know we can't test this theory, but we should treat it as the truth," said Vee.
"Okay, well, if that's how we're approaching this D negative blood sample... What's the next step? We have no medical supplies. I checked the med tent in the courtyard for the third time just for fun."
"Then we have to visit Glott and get some answers. And by we... I mean me."
"Valter—"
"I know you don't want me to leave, but what other option do we have? Every day we waste here is another step backward."
Zed shook her head until a thin braid dislodged from behind her ear and swung in her face. Vee resisted the urge to tuck it back. The girl's face swivelled toward the window, and she pondered and watched the premature stars twinkle across the bruised sky.
"We go together," Zed said firmly. "I won't budge on that."
"And what about Axel?"
"We wait until he's better. We'll need him to navigate the way."
"And if he never recovers?" Vee asked.
"Then we go anyway. All three of us. We get Axel better, and we go together."
Vee inhaled through his nose as Zed screwed her eyes into his. When he nodded, a smile unfurled across her face, shadowed by the last drops of brassy sunlight.
"I hate this plan, but I suppose it's all we have," said Vee.
"Promise we'll all stick together."
"Of course, Lea. I won't leave without you guys. Promise."
"Promise-promise?"
"I double promise with a cherry on top. Stick a needle in my eye and call it macaroni."
Zed stifled laughter beneath her palm. "I think you've been hanging out with Sam too much."
"That, or I'm just tired."
"I'll let you sleep now. You look beat."
Vee twisted his mouth in lopsided agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna hit the shower first. Unless you want to?"
"No, you go ahead. I'll stay here a little longer," Zed said as she laid her temple against the cool glass and looked out over the forest floor, now drowning in the twilight.
~*~
In the morning, Zed left the apartment and padded down the hallway in her mismatched slippers. She slowed as she turned the corner and found the brothers talking. Axel's eyebrows were locked in a line, and Vee looked up at her with relief.
"Lea, can you help me explain to Axel why he can't leave the hospital room?"
Axel whipped the covers off his thighs. "This place is fuckin' weird, and I know you're lying to me. That doctor you had in here is a whack-job. Something isn't adding up."
"Stay put," Vee commanded.
Zed rubbed the sleep from her eyes and prepared to take both sides with a long breath. "Axel, your brother is right. You can't leave yet. Just stay a little longer and heal."
"Where the fuck am I, Vee? This isn't like any hospital I've ever been to. And why can't I use the phone to call mom and dad?"
Axel's question erased all the sleep Vee had gotten the night before. His fatigue was contagious. Zed approached the bed and brushed Axel's shoulder. The touch diffused the tension in his upper body and opened him up to a new explanation, one that hadn't come from his kid brother's mouth.
"There are no phones here, Axel. You're right... This place is different. We're missing a lot of things you’d consider normal."
"Look, darlin', I know you're just trying to make me feel better, but none of what you're saying makes any sense. What do you mean there's no phone? There's electricity, isn't there? So why can't I hobble my way to a pay phone or borrow someone's cell?"
Vee and Zed exchanged pained looks. The younger brother kneaded his brow and offered Axel the same explanation he had before, reworded. Axel refused to believe a word and scrambled off the gurney, throwing Vee's hands off him as he limped a few steps and realized his mistake.
"What the fuck is wrong with my foot? Did someone sliced my ankle in half? What is happening to me? I feel like I'm on an acid trip that never ends. I go to sleep and see crazy shit, only to wake up in an even crazier place where there're no phones and no fucking food! You're talking in goddamn riddles, Vee. The least you can do is get me a Baconator for my trouble! I can't walk—I can't even jerk off 'cause my good hand is fucked. You gotta help me out."
"How many times do I have to tell you, Axe? There are no restaurants!"
"Bullshit! Sweetheart, come on, you can help me, right? Can you please just grab me something greasy? I'll pay you back, I promise. I'm good for it."
"I wish I could help you, Axel, but Vee's right. There's nowhere to get stuff like that anymore."
"Anymore? What does that even mean? You guys are talking like I slept through the apocalypse or something!"
Zed turned to Vee, who blocked the way to the courtyard. "Come on, Axe. Just settle down, and get back into bed."
"Are you gonna find me some painkillers then?" Axel faltered toward the bed and hoisted himself onto the flat mattress with his right arm.
"I'll see what I can do, buddy, but will you promise to stay here for a little longer?"
"Whatever," Axel scoffed. "What else am I gonna do?"
Zed waited until Axel slid back under the covers and tilted his face away from them both to assess Vee's mood. She suspected Axel's recovery would be difficult. Still, when she pictured him with his eyes open again, she heard laughter and saw game nights, shared wine and inside jokes knitting them closer together—not disarray and a friend who'd forgotten her. And if Vee had left the day he championed himself, Axel wouldn't have any flagship of his past. The scientist's presence tranquillized her despite Axel's rotten mood fouling the atmosphere.
"You're hungry, Axel?" Zed asked.
"Starving."
"I'll try to track down something tasty to eat. It won't be a greasy burger, but maybe I can find you something close to fries. I'll make it myself if I have to."
Axel flipped his eyes to the girl standing with her arms knotted behind her back and smiled. "Oh, darlin'...You're a sweet thing. I'd hate to ask, so I'll just accept the offer. Or maybe Vee can go, and you and I can chat a little more?"
Zed chuckled at the man's slyness. "I have some other things to do. We’ll talk when I get back."
"Don't rush for me, honey, but if you do, I'll take it as a good sign," Axel said with a wink.
At the cost of one of her knit blankets, Zed found someone in Athena to chop and bake a sweet potato in peanut oil. She bartered for garlic and salt to sprinkle on the dish. The redheaded child spotted her making transactions and stopped her at the mouth of the Hives with a cloth of fermented cashew cheese and a large chunk of bread that sat out overnight but was still soft. She offered the foodstuffs to Axel on a thin wood slab, and he accepted with an obsequious grin. He relinquished his dissatisfaction and warmed next to Zed.
"Aw, darlin', look at you go. How can I thank you for your trouble?" Axel asked as he chomped a crispy strand of sweet potato.
Zed stepped back from his bed, blushing. "It's okay, Axel. You don't have to do anything but get better."
"Will you stay with me for a while? If I have to stay in bed, it'd really make my life easier if I have someone to talk to. That is if you don't mind my chattiness."
"Sure. Let me grab a chair from the apartment," said Zed.
Axel finished his meal quickly, and as if he hadn't eaten at all, felt the pang of hunger moments after the last bite of bread. His appetite woke up ravenous, and no amount of homegrown food could satiate the growl.
"I might need to eat again in an hour," Axel informed as Zed dragged the chair across the floor. “I’m a big boy, you know.”
"That's fine. I'll find you something in a little while ."
The injured man nodded and sighed, eyelashes fluttering over tired green eyes. A bloated silence proceeded, and Zed wondered how to initiate a conversation. Vee told her not to confuse Axel with present-day news, but all she wanted to do was ask about Richard Glott's underground bunker and with who he'd crossed paths that left him slashed and maimed.
After a couple of deep breaths, Axel murmured, "I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep. Is that strange?"
Zed hid her shy smile behind her palm. "Oh, stop."
Axel shimmied his torso higher on the bed and frowned in pain. "No, seriously. Not trying to be slick, honey. I see the most fucked up things when I sleep. You know the kind of dreams so vivid, you wake up and your heart’s pounding, thinking it's all real for a minute? Then you're like... No way."
Zed shifted closer to Axel's bed. "What do you dream about?"
Axel smiled to himself. "You, mostly... Us. You and me doing crazy shit together. Sometimes I'm in the desert, and I see this airplane in the distance. It's on the ground, and I ride toward it, you know, you're not gonna ignore a crashed plane, right? Then I find you there, but these guys are hurting you, and you're going nuts trying to shake 'em, but there's too many, so I shoot 'em all, and they melt like popsicles. You stab one good, though."
"What else?" Zed asked.
"I dunno... Sometimes it's just me and you cruising through the desert, and I get the feeling you hate me, but I kinda like it. I'm happy you're there, even though we're in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea what's gonna happen next."
"Sounds like some pretty weird dreams."
"They're so lucid. It's like a movie, and I'm the main character, and you're... Well, you. Like my cool sidekick."
"Sidekick, huh?" Zed scoffed.
"Yeah, you have this air about you that's like not to be fucked with. Then things always get real dark. I don't even want to tell you about it 'cause you'll think I'm fucked in the head."
Zed knew this part of the story and lowered her eyes to the floor. "It's okay. You can tell me if you want. It's just dreams, right?"
"Nah, I'll just leave it at that. It's not sex stuff or anything if you're wondering."
"Your dreams are more entertaining than anything I have going on today."
With Zed's green light, Axel inhaled deeply before launching into the story of their past. Before he uttered another syllable, a severed connection sparked in his head. His eyes grew large, and he looked around the makeshift hospital room, awestruck.
"In my dreams, we're trying to get to Vee. He needs us for some reason."
"What does he need?"
"Some science shit, which makes total sense because he's a scientist. He's actually a scientist, and not just in my dreams."
"Axel... These dreams you've had... Do you think they have significance?" Zed asked carefully.
"Totally. They have to. Right? Or am I fucking crazy?"
"You're not crazy, Axel. I promise."
"But what if I am? This place... I get such a bad feeling when I'm awake in this room by myself. Vee won't tell me where we are. It's like he's hiding something, and he never lies to me about anything. We don't do that."
"Vee just wants you to get better. He's under a lot of stress, and your recovery is a big part of that. We didn't think—he didn't think you'd make it through. Another complication is the last thing you guys need."
Axel went quiet again and fixated on the dust motes and bolts of lightning crackling up his leg. A storm grew behind his eyes, the same torrents Zed saw when she tried to stop him from leaving Kinderfeld and her behind. Sickened by the thought of Axel sneaking off, she touched his arm and offered a warm smile.
"Talk to me, Axel. Please. Don't keep anything inside."
Axel glanced at her small hand on his tattooed bicep and the lightning in his body faded.
"We were friends in a past life," Axel claimed.
"We're friends in this life."
"Can I tell you one other thing, then I promise I'll stop talking about my bonkers dreams?"
"Yes. I don't mind at all."
Axel curled his bicep and touched Zed's fingers, feeling the motion out until she grasped his hand.
"I think I have to take you somewhere."
"Oh, yeah?" Zed giggled. "And where's that?"
Axel blushed for the first time and brought her hand to hold next to him on the bed. "Not like on a date or anything. I just get this feeling that I'm supposed to protect you, even though you seem capable of looking after yourself just fine. This dream voice keeps reminding me to stay with you and Vee... Like I'm not allowed to let either of you out of my sight. Especially not you."
"Then don't," Zed said.
He squeezed her fingers gently. "I won't."
~*~
Word of Axel's consciousness seeped out of the lab and into the village. Nobody knew who had made the discovery—Vee blamed Samson while Zed suspected Nalani, who'd waltzed by the lab doors at a suspiciously slow pace several times each day—and leaked the information. They barred visitors and only allowed the doctor in to help change Axel's bandages until Ivar arrived.
Axel was alone, humming a tune from his teenage years when the king came through the doors and stopped to stare at his bed-ridden friend.
"Zee, you're awake? And no one thought to tell me?"
"Sorry, hombre, but I think you have the wrong room. Name's Axel."
Ivar flashed all his sharp teeth in a sly smile and wagged his finger. "Always a joker."
"No, really," Axel chuckled, then went deadpan. "Wait... Who are you?"
Before Ivar spoke, Vee walked into the lab and froze when he saw Ivar standing a few feet from Axel's bed.
"Ivar. I wasn't expecting you."
The king sneered and motioned toward Axel. "What's with this guy?"
"Hey, maybe we can talk for a second?" Vee invited Ivar down the hall, out of earshot.
Ivar glared at the scientist. "When exactly were you planning on telling me he woke up?"
"That's the thing, Ivar. You don't understand... Axel's suffering from amnesia. It's common for coma patients to lose parts of their memory. Right now, he's in a very touchy state. He has no idea where he is, who you are, or what any of this is. I've tried to keep people away from him to avoid confusion, but now everybody knows. It's not good for him. Subjecting him to all this new information can cause anxiety, panic... Who knows. We're trying to ease him back into life."
"What do you mean he doesn't know who I am? I'm his best friend."
"Trust me. Axel doesn't even remember serving in the army."
"That's crazy. We should tell him—"
"No. It's too big of a shock. Axel's already gone through hell. Imagine trying to explain our world to somebody who has virtually no idea what's happened in the last couple of years."
Ivar pondered and didn't respond to Vee's relief, then sighed as though he accepted the explanation.
"So what does this mean for you? I assume you're retracting your claim and staying in Kinderfeld?"
Vee twisted his mouth to the side. "How can I go now?"
"You volunteered."
"That was before Axel came home. He needs me. I'm the only person he recognizes. Give me some more time with him, get him back on his feet and see if he'll start remembering, then I'll go."
Ivar crossed his arms across his burly chest. "Who knows how long that might take?"
"Would you leave someone you loved in that state?"
"I'd do what's for the greater good."
"He's your best friend. He's my brother. Axel needs us right now, Ivar. Think of all he's done for us. We owe it to take care of him until he's fit to at least walk again. I need him to remember what happened so I can get a better idea of what's going on outside."
"I suppose you're right," Ivar conceded. "You can't go out blind by yourself."
"Yes, you're right," Vee said with great relief.
"So what now? I can't talk to him?"
"You can speak to him if you like, but try not to bring up things that might confuse him. Don't talk about the army or mention recent times."
Ivar looked over his shoulder at the apartment's open door and heard the muted humming of a girl filtering through the corridor.
"And how's Lea taking all of this?"
Vee stiffened. "She's helping out."
"Axel has no idea who she is? He really doesn't know what's happened?"
"Not that I can tell. He keeps asking for cheeseburgers and to call our parents."
"Wow," Ivar whispered.
"Yeah, it's hard."
Ivar went quiet, distant, and shook his head slowly before inhaling through his nose and squeezing Vee's shoulder. "I trust you, brother. Maybe we'll talk more about your expedition in a few days when things have a chance to settle with Axel."
"You got it."
Axel pretended he wasn't trying to listen to the conversation between his brother and the brown-haired man with the striking blue eyes when the pair returned. Ivar nodded at Axel, his eyes awash with sympathy for the indisposed man.
"How are you feeling, Axel?"
"A little on the shitty side, my man. Not gonna lie. Hands busted, foot's bum... Can't fuck my way to a decent meal in this place, and everyone's tiptoeing around like I'm a sleeping baby. Gotta say I've had better days."
"Well, I hope you heal up quick. There are a lot of people who want to see you."
A coy smirk unfurled over Axel's face. "Yeah, I kinda get that impression. Sometimes, I see people looking in through those doors. I feel like a panda at a zoo. Everyone wants a peek at little ol’ Axel, huh?"
"Is there anything I can get you?"
"Cheeseburger?" Axel asked hopefully.
"Would if I could, friend."
"Goddamn it," Axel lamented.
Vee widened his eyes when Ivar looked at him, confirming what they'd discussed in the hallway.
"Say, how do you stay so beefy if there's no meat in this place?" Axel asked Ivar.
"I get my protein where I can. Try to stay fit. I'll get someone to bring you something good to eat."
Axel snorted. "Yeah, that's what that sweet-lookin' one said, but everything tastes like tree bark. No offence to her. She tried her best, and I'd never insult a lady's cooking to her face."
Ivar sucked in his bottom lip and nodded. "Well, I'll see what I can do for you, Axel. Get better soon."
Vee held his breath until Ivar left the lab and shrunk once the doors closed.
"You sure have a way with words, don't you?"
"Everyone who walks in here acts like they know me."
"We might have to move you to the apartment. Put a cap on your visitors."
"Who was that?" Axel asked.
"That's Ivar Lothbrok. He kinda runs things, in a sense."
"Nice guy."
Vee scoffed. "Yeah. Nice."
An itch stuck in the back of Axel's head, and he grew quiet once again, trying to unravel the mystery he'd woken up inside. He was a figure in a snow globe, a permanent fixture in a landscape rife with faces he'd seen in dreams. Sitting up in his bed, Axel wondered what laid beyond the confines of his glasshouse. Never one to follow the rules, even under the firm guidance of his smart younger brother, Axel decided once everyone fell asleep, he'd find himself a walking post and go exploring.
~*~
Zed woke to the sound of Vee's soft snoring coming through the open door of his bedroom. The possibility of sleep retracted with every second she spent staring at the smooth, globular ceiling in the dark, trying to make shapes out of the dream residue behind her eyelids. The sofa stiffened her back, and she twisted her spine until air bubbles popped and her muscles strained from the motion. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut for a few minutes, but Axel's stories followed her from sleep, brushing up on her with sharp quills. Since Axel painted his dream world, she hadn't stopped thinking of him and mourning the loss of his memory for the both of them. Axel didn't know his missing pieces were dancing under his eyes each time he slumbered, and she longed to stitch them together to create the full picture.
She squinted into the darkness, fatigue long since faded, and left the apartment. Light on her bare feet, Zed padded down the hallway and turned the corner to find an empty bed. Her heart twinged from Axel's absence. She considered going back to the apartment to tell Vee his brother was missing but found herself propelled to seek Axel out herself. There was nowhere in the lab a man of Axel's stature could hide, so she went out to the courtyard to begin her search. The floodlights cast pyramids of light over the foothills but revealed nothing but stone paths and glittering grass ranks. She started left first, then changed her mind and shot right toward the warehouse. Zed minded her steps as she picked up a jog, extending her legs to clear the roiling yards until she reached the square entrance of the warehouse. A guard leaned against the steel wall next to the exit, blinking and wiping a hand over his face to rouse himself. He saw Zed across the cement expanse and stood up straight.
"What're you doing out here?" The guard's voice clattered through the chamber.
"Sorry," Zed said, casting a thorough glance around before retreating into the light and shadow of the courtyard again. She rushed to the Hives, taking quick strides to reach her abandoned apartment before anyone else noticed her. After a quick knock, Zed opened the door to find her former living quarters as deserted as ever. Nobody had claimed the space in her absence, nor was Axel's adjoining apartment occupied. Both rooms were empty.
Zed's search for Axel continued and grew in urgency with each lonely cove and space she found. As she made her way around the central dome where the courtyard bordered the largest hill, she stopped at the mouth of the Chrysalis and addressed the men standing guard.
"Have either of you seen someone limping through here?"
"Nobody's come 'round here, Zed. Who're you looking for?"
Zed cocked her head. "Who do you think?"
"You mean Zee?" The man on the right asked. "Thought he was paralyzed."
"So it's true? He's awake?"
"Please don't tell anyone. Not yet."
The bearded guard rose a dark eyebrow at Zed. He was one of Ivar's highest-ranking patrol. Zed recognized him from the night they'd brought in the Zeronaut captain, Monk. He often stood by wherever Ivar went and didn't talk much unless addressed. "Ivar know about this?"
"I don't know what Ivar knows. Vee communicates with him, but we're trying to keep this from the general public."
"What do you think, Fen? Should we tell Ivar?" The scrawny, clean-shaven guard asked.
Fen sneered and told his partner to close his mouth before angling his torso toward Zed. "We'll keep an eye out, petite fleur."
Zed nodded and continued on her way, but there were few more spots Axel could hide unless someone had intercepted him and invited him into their hovel. She thought of Nalani, who often wandered the courtyard at odd hours and Trinity, who adored Axel and might jump at the opportunity to lead him to a private alcove. The two of them shared living space in Athena. Zed wanted to keep the search party light, and asking around would only spread curiosity like wildfire.
She continued touring the courtyard, her naked soles sore from hurried walking. Finally, she stopped at the greenhouse gate, its series of coiling iron bars and metal flowers welded to the columns in intricate clusters. Zed lifted the latch and pushed the gate open, taking care to shut it quietly. The greenhouse where the citizens grew aloe and berries was the little-known getaway spot Axel and Vee coveted as their private paradise. Zed zigzagged through the raised beds, taking care not to trip over the irrigation hoses and climbed the wooden steps at the back of the third square house. Around another corner and through the thick blackberry bushes nestled in rectangles of sodden earth, Zed rushed to the spot under the sky where the light poured in but found nothing.
"Shit," she whispered, out of breath and reeling in the thick, tepid air.
Zed looked up to the cloudless velveteen sky, crushing disappointment wringing her heart. In a throng of shadow off to the right, a figure shifted and startled the woman backward.
A tired voice called her name.
The shady form lengthened, struggling to stand. Once it stood at its full height, the vice pressing Zed's chest disappeared. Axel hobbled into view, using the overhead pipes to help himself along.
"Axel! There you are. Oh my God, you had me so worried. Why did you leave the lab?"
"The lab? Is that where you've been keeping me?"
Zed clapped her palm over her mouth. Axel gave an elongated nod, eyes wide and accusatory.
"Is that what I am? Some kind of experiment?"
"No, Axel—"
"What are you and Vee doing? Tell me why he's keeping me locked up. Tell me where the fuck I am, Lea. Please. This place... Something about it seems wrong. It scares me."
Axel wilted against a plant bed as Zed approached and caught his elbow to keep him upright.
"Axel, don't be scared. Please, I promise you're safe. We're not trying to keep you captive. This is all difficult to explain, and you were asleep for so long parts of your memory are missing. Vee's only trying to make it easier for you to cope."
"Cope with what, Lea? Cope with the fact I'm a prisoner? That I can't sleep because my nightmares are so vivid, I feel like I'm dying? That people watch me like some sideshow freak?"
"Everything," Zed sighed. "The new world. How can we explain all this to someone who woke up in the past?"
Axel looked up through the skylights and whimpered. "Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?"
Zed, wounded from the dejection in her friend's voice, led Axel to sit on the floor, then sat next to him and draped her arms over his shoulders, resting her cheek on the thin cotton shoulder strap of his tank top.
"I wish I could say you're wrong, but I can't lie to you, Axe."
"My instincts were right. Something is very wrong. After that Ivar fella came through, I started getting this feeling you all weren't telling me something on purpose."
"Don't be angry with us, Axel. We didn't know how to tell you."
Axel leaned his head on Zed's and sought her hand to hold. She slid her fingers through his and gripped tightly. "It's okay. I get it now. I'm supposed to be here. You and me... We're meant to be together. Otherwise... Why would I see you every time I close my eyes?"
"Axel," Zed whispered. "I missed you so much when you left. I thought I'd never see you again. Now everything is different."
"I'm sorry. If I hurt you back then... I didn't mean it."
"Just don't leave me again. Please. I can't fool myself into happiness without you in my life."
"I won't leave. I can't."
"Promise?"
"I promise, Lea."
"Promise-promise?"
Axel chuckled and kissed the top of Zed's head before laying his cheek on the ruts of her braids. "Yeah. I promise-promise."
~*~
Axel and Zed laid on the floorboards and watched the stars twinkling above while the chamber filled with water vapour, obscuring the glass until the condensation evaporated. When the infinite black sky lightened to meteorite violet, Axel used Zed as a crutch to stand up. He stole a fistful of blackberries, stuffing the fruits in his mouth and mashing them until inky juice seeped from the corners of his lips. He complained about his ankle, which he'd suffered walking on during his solo excursion to the greenhouses. Zed berated him for wandering off and helped him down the steps and through the rows of potato plants, arms locked, their pace slow to accommodate Axel's injury.
A murmur greeted the pair as they approached the iron gate. A dozen villagers gathered around the entrance to witness Axel emerge with smiles on their faces. Frozen from the elated faces beaming at him, Axel pulled on Zed's arm, alerting her to the hoard of onlookers.
"Who are they?" Axel asked.
"Zee! Happy you're awake!"
"What happened to your arm, Zee? Are you okay?"
"He looks terrible."
Zed opened the gate, and the crowd dented but didn't part. "Make room, please!"
"We want to talk to Zee!"
Axel then realized the group addressed him, their wide eyes drinking in his bruised and broken state with smiles unfitting his poor condition. An overwhelming sense of worry touched his skin, and he grabbed for Zed to lead him, but they huddled around the gate until a tall head of blond hair sliced the crowd in half. Vee shouldered past, his eyes hooded and brow furrowed.
"Axel! Lea! What the hell are you doing out here? Lea, did you let him out?"
Zed frowned and drew her shoulders up. "Of course not! I'm the one who came looking for him."
"Let's go. Come on, now. Everyone make way. Go back home!" Vee barked.
"We want answers! What's happening outside the walls?"
"We'll answer your questions later," Vee said disdainfully. "Lea, help me get him back."
The trio staggered to the lab, breathless from the trek over the bowing foothills. Vee waited until they were behind closed doors to deliver a speech about how irresponsible and defiant Axel was, how his behaviour might cause unwanted ripples where the scientist required placidity. Axel hoisted himself into bed and accepted his lecture, sullen and quiet, occasionally glancing at Zed, who also wrung her wrists.
"I told you not to leave the room, Axe. Why? Why can't you listen to me for once in your goddamn life?" Vee asked.
"You're not my mommy, Valter. I can do what I want, and frankly, I don't appreciate you keeping secrets from me!"
"What are you on about?"
"Oh, don't play dumb. You've lied to me this whole time! About where we are, what's happened to me. I think you know much more than you lead on."
Vee scoffed and looked to Zed for reassurance. The girl stood still with her shoulders hunched.
"Lea, help me out here."
"Well, Vee... Maybe it's time we tell him everything. There's no use hiding the truth anymore. He already knows something's wrong."
"Yeah!" Axel cried. "I'm done sitting around twiddling my thumbs. You have to tell me what's up. How did I get like this? What the fuck happened to me, and why can't I remember anything? I don't know how I got here or who all those people are out there."
"That's the thing, Axe... We don't know what happened to you. You left, and when you came back, you were unconscious and hurt. We don't leave this place, so I can't tell you anything more than that. I didn't know if you'd wake up and certainly didn't know you'd have amnesia when you did."
Axel turned to Zed for verification, and she nodded her head regretfully.
"It's true, Axel. I wish we could tell you more."
"Then at least tell me where I am. Start there," Axel demanded.
Vee and Zed stood speechless for a moment until she sighed deeply. "Vee, maybe we should give him the postcards and his journals."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're right, Lea. Go get the box. Tonight's gonna be a long one."
Zed hauled the box of postcards and dog-eared journals into the lab and hefted it onto the foot of Axel's bed. Vee unpinned the postcards from the corkboard and offered them to Axel with a pinched smile. Zed sat in her chair while Vee laid on the floor, a long arm slung over his eyes as Axel began to read aloud from his workbooks. The three of them listened to the stories Axel had penned years before while he was in the infantry as if none of them had heard the tales. From time to time, Axel stopped narrating and glided over the lines, taking in details he should have known, but couldn't place. During these silences, Zed and Vee would look up at him to assess his emotions, whether or not the words shifted the pieces into place or made any difference at all.
Axel took in a strained breath. "Ivar and I aren't talking. He wants to be the leader on this ship, and if things don't go his way, he turns into a giant douche-nozzle," he broke into giggling at his insult. "I haven't eaten in three days, and the water supply is low. We're down to a cup a day each. It's not enough, but it's gotten us through so far. One of the guys got sick, and they've taken him below deck. He throws up constantly even though there's nothing in his gut and howls all night in agony. I swear to God I'll shoot him in the head tomorrow if he doesn't let us sleep tonight. Someone needs to put him out of his misery."
Zed grimaced, and Vee stared at the ceiling with dry eyes, unflinching from the story.
"Day six... I now know what rat meat tastes like."
"Oh, god. Ew," Zed mumbled.
Axel continued without pause. "It's not that bad when you haven't eaten in almost a week. I've set up more traps in the galley to catch the rest. If Ivar plays his cards right, I might share my rats with him, but he's still a stuck-up twat.
I'm not sure how the rats are surviving. Maybe there's food still hidden somewhere on the ship. Maybe they're eating each other."
"This must have been when you were on your way back to America...Or... Whatever you want to call this half of the world now," Vee said.
"What do you mean?" Asked Axel.
"The Unity... The government... They abolished the borders, erased the country names and burned the history books. The states became part of the North-Western Hemisphere. Same with Canada and all that. No countries. No names."
Axel seemed to accept his brother's explanation that nothing would ever be as before. The commune in which he now resided was the only tangible place left in existence. Outside the walls lay sites changed from war, stripped of home and heritage. A tightness in Axel's neck prevented him from speaking until the revelations grew too heavy for him to bear.
"What happened to everyone else?" Axel asked.
"It's hard to say," Vee whispered, then cleared his throat. "A lot of people died."
"How many?"
"Billions," Zed said.
"You mean... We're the only ones left?"
"No, we're not. There are other survivors out there, people who were meant to live through the storms."
"Storms?"
Vee sighed, the farfetched nature of their fates exhausting him before he began. "The Unity developed a way to return the planet back to its natural state. No more electronic communication, no more broadcasts or satellites or TV. After the extinctions reached an all-time high, they introduced these plants that could suck the pollution from the air quickly. They grow extremely fast and are lethal to anyone who wasn't vaccinated against the spores. One plant can release a spore cloud big enough to cover half a football field, and they breed and multiply like vermin. Even a small cluster can kill a stadium of unimmunized people in a few minutes."
"But why would they do this? Have I been vaccinated?"
Axel's questions ripped holes in Vee’s composure. Zed's stomach churned and flipped as the scientist fished for the least aggressive explanation. A gloss came over his eyes, and he avoided his brother's bewildered stare.
"No, Axe. You're not."
"Oh... Are you?" Axel whispered.
"Yeah, I am. So is Lea."
"Why? Why didn't I get vaccinated?"
"You were lost at sea with your platoon for weeks, and before that, you were overseas. They didn't immunize the troops."
"Are you telling me the government wants us all to die?"
"Most of this is widely debated. There are some theories that the Unity had a strategy in mind."
Zed lent the scientist a hand and cut the heavy topic with a smile. "Axel, you're much more special than you know. Those people out there all adore you because of what you've done for Kinderfeld. You were the only one brave enough to go out when they needed supplies. People know your name not only here but out in the world. I've seen you fight and shoot. You're a natural."
"Well, yeah. I've been shooting guns since I was a kid."
"You were a special ops sniper. More than just a good shot."
Axel warmed to the compliment. "And what about you? Are you the mercenary of my dreams?"
Zed blushed and failed to hide her pride. "Not a mercenary... But I've murked a few Scavs in my day."
"Man... I like you," Axel tittered. "Ain't she great, Vee? What a prize."
For the few seconds of silence that passed, Vee's expression darkened. He recognized the reverence pulling Axel's features, the heartfelt way Lea relaxed when they spoke. Even in the absence of memory, Axel and Zed forged a bond too strong to pry apart. He would never wish ill upon his brother, but he mourned the days past with the woman whose eyes shone like vats of golden syrup passing under the morning light. At the risk of sharing a likeness with Ivar, the king who could never quite capture the woman's love, Vee thought of what life might have been like had Axel never returned. Would Zed love him? Could she? Had he ever toed the waters of her unspoken affection? Vee cursed his stupidity the night he told her how he felt and quickly dismantled his chances before she had the opportunity to consider him more than a close friend.
As Zed stared at Axel upright in his bed with his journals splayed out around him, Vee knew it was too late to rescind his platonic claim. A victim of his own sabotage, the scientist turned from them and pushed out every last ounce of breath to make room for another stale intake.
"I think it's time I showed Axel the Crimson Yawn."
Zed nodded and left the brothers, sensing a gloomy air rising between them. Vee was much better at explaining the inexplicable. He delivered news with a needed bluntness, one Zed had never mastered. Once she left the lab searching for distractions, Vee helped his brother box up the journals and offered his elbow to guide Axel back on his feet. Amid the bleak news, Axel had almost forgotten the pain in his extremities.
They waddled to the locked chambers where the bulk of Vee's scientific discoveries came to light. Axel squinted against the bright white walls and polished floor as he followed his brother through a series of doors leading to a clear dome similar to the greenhouses he'd found, only this hollow contained a twisted swarm of redheaded plants, mouths bloody and agape. Each one stood over seven feet tall and lifted its black-spotted maw to the sky in a silent scream. Axel turned from them.
"I've seen these before, but never this many. In my dreams, there's always one growing in a container."
"You recognize them?"
"And you say these things can kill me? How is it possible?" Axel asked.
"They're a sophisticated hybrid plant. They release spores like mushrooms, and those spores become airborne. If you breathe them in, they attack your blood, soaking up the nutrients and essentially turning it into a highly acidic jelly. You burn from the inside out. Well...Dissolve is a better word."
"And you've brought me here why!?" Axel shouted, dodging backward and planting too much weight on his bad ankle.
"Don't worry! They can't hurt you from in here. The filtration system's design protects everything inside."
"I still have a hard time believing all this. You know how crazy it sounds, right?"
Vee clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Oh, I realize. Why do you think it took me so long to break the news? You try finding a delicate way to explain this to someone who just came out of a coma."
Axel became transfixed on the plants again after Vee's assurance. He shuffled to the glass and studied the roaring heads, each one slightly different than its neighbour. They resembled demons, bizarre red monsters with thick necks and broad leaves of wax. Their spiked roots toiled in the ground, gnarled and tangled in a hellish orgy above and beneath the soil. Beyond the ranks, Axel saw the roiling jungle and all its hues of green and black. The sun broke through parts in the towering trees. How he longed to feel the wind on his burnt skin and walk among the flora. Axel observed the plants for a few minutes as Vee stepped back and allowed him time to digest.
"Am I in a nightmare?" Axel met his brother's eyes and did not blink.
"Some might say that. And I'm sorry. I've dedicated my life to making things better for the survivors, but there's nothing left I can do. All we have now is the village and each other."
"And mom and dad?"
"They're gone, Axe. They've been gone a while."
The tattooed man swallowed bitterly and nodded as a wall of tears blinded him. Vee touched his brother's shoulder and shared his pain through the comforting gesture. Axel crossed his chest with his good hand and patted Vee's fingers.
"Do you mind if I spend some time alone? This is... It's just a lot."
"Of course. Take all the time you need, Axe. I'll leave the doors unlocked. You good to walk?"
Axel's voice floated below a whisper. "I’ll manage."
~*~
In the apartment, Zed held her arms out before her and swung them in half-circles, stretching her muscles in preparation for another stiff night spent on the sofa. Vee came in after dinner and found Zed flinging her limbs outward.
"Nightly aerobics?" He asked with a touch of humour, the most he could muster after a day of harsh truths.
"Just stretching out before bed. My back's been killing me."
"Oh," Vee's green eyes popped open wide. "Don't sleep on the couch, Lea. You can take the bed tonight."
"Nah, it's okay."
"No, really. I insist. You deserve a night without hanging off the edge of the cushions."
"Then where will you sleep?" She asked.
"The couch."
Zed laughed at the idea. "You're far too tall to fit comfortably."
"I've passed out there dozens of times. Don't worry about me, really. Take the bed."
"Why're you being so nice, huh?" Zed snorted.
"I've seen you in pain the last few days, and I feel bad. It's rude of me to have one of the biggest beds in this place when I don't do anything to deserve it."
"Oh, shush," Zed jested. "You've done more for this place than anyone."
"There's always the Chrysalis."
The good humour in the room vanished with Vee's maladroit suggestion. Zed shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not going to the Chrysalis. I want to stay here with you guys."
"Fine by me. You'll take the bed tonight then. Grab your blankets and go."
Zed and Vee swapped bedding and wished each other goodnight. Though she deemed herself undeserving of the luxury, when Zed crawled onto Vee's large bed and spread her limbs from corner to corner, her skin bristled with goosebumps. The scent of the sheets belonged to the man outside the room, sprawled on the sofa, long legs dangling over the arm—cotton and boyish musk, the redolence Zed had grown accustomed to except in this moment. Lying on the mattress reminded her of the hugs and closeness she'd received from Vee when Axel had fled.
She relived their days together in clips of happy memories and some not so joyful. Across the apartment, Vee recalled the same night playing in Zed's mind—their evening in the greenhouse when they'd held hands, so close together yet barred by the promises of friendship. Vee cursed himself repeatedly while Zed entertained the idea of getting together with the scientist.
Soon, Zed's thoughts slid over the night she'd spent with Ivar. If she concentrated, she could feel the fullness between her legs still. Ivar had made love to her the way couples did in films. He'd stroked her and kissed her skin, took her nipples gently between his lips and sucked until she giggled. What might have excited some left her shivering. Was one of the brothers more deserving of her love? Was she foolish to think herself so desirable her attention was a coveted badge of excellence?
What a prize!
Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now.
It's like you were made for me.
With her heart racing, Zed turned over in bed and clamped her eyes shut. Debating which of the three men in her life she wanted more made her stomach flip, yet she couldn't keep the lewd considerations from pouring into her head. In these fantasies, she replaced Ivar with Vee. Yes, he was smart and gentle and keen on her, but he'd told her not to let him cross the line, claimed he didn't want her that way despite his feelings. Vee's kind face took the place of Ivar's, coasting down her stomach, stamping her thighs with kisses from luscious lips. She squeezed her legs together and let the inevitable shift knock Vee from the picture to make room for his older brother.
The tattooed man with all his addictions and his looming depression positioned himself between her knees and grasped her ankles delicately. A murderer and womanizer leaned over her body, caging her with long limbs decorated with sparrows, weapons, chains and barbed wire.
We're meant to be together. I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep.
Zed bit her lip when the phantom sensation invaded her. She knew not how Axel would moan or if he'd coo and sigh the way Ivar had when they had sex. She wanted very much to think Axel would treat her with respect and scorned the claims Trinity had made about his wild side. Then the obscene journal entries came to life, glowing, fanned by salacious visions. What if she didn't want to make love? What if she wanted to be taken hard and fast by a man who worshiped her? Guilt and arousal mixed in her chest and sat heavy, grinning evilly like a demon poised to possess her body.
Sleep wriggled through Zed's conjurations and pulled her under before she realized she was slipping into blackness. The cozy bed and Vee's sheets lulled her, and soon, she dreamed of ordinary things, forgetting her personal stash of pornographic thoughts. She slipped further as the moon made a lazy arc through the night sky until something touched her shoulder and jarred her from sleep with a sharp gasp.
Her scream ripped through the apartment, sending her waker toppling out of bed.
"Lea? Oh, fuck. Fuck!"
"Axel?"
In the dimness, neither of them saw each other but tasted each other's heavy breath. Soon the light snapped on, and Vee stood at the door, chest heaving.
"What the hell is going on?" Vee asked. "Axel? What're you doing?"
"Christ, I thought Zed was you. I just came to... Well, I couldn't sleep," Axel cringed. "Shit, my hand. Fuck, I landed like a sack of bricks."
Vee snickered, setting off a series of giggles. "You came to sleep in my bed?"
"I didn't mean to scare you, Lea."
"It's all right," said Zed. "Really. On any other night, it would have been Vee in here."
Axel pulled himself up by the elbows and sat on the edge of the bed, grimacing from the agony of his agitated wounds. "Sorry, guys. It's hard to sleep out there. People are watching me."
Zed scooted over and patted the part of the mattress warm from her body. "Come on. Lie down. I think we could all use a sleepover after the day we've had."
"You're not serious," Vee said with a scoff as his brother took up Zed's offer and laid down next to her.
Zed nodded with conviction. "Absolutely. You too, Valter. Turn off the light and get over here."
He rolled his eyes as he flipped the light switch. "This is hardly a three-person bed."
"Well, cuddle up, pal."
"Lea takes up a fraction of the bed, anyway," Axel pointed out.
"Is this not weird to you? Three adults sharing a bed?"
Zed moved to the center as Vee climbed into bed from the left. To her right, Axel had already sprawled and turned over to face her in the dark.
"It's no stranger than how half the people in this place sleep all piled on top of each other. Humans were meant to nest. In the wild, this is how we'd sleep."
"Yeah, but we're not in the wild," said Vee.
"Yes, we are, little brother. Have you seen it outside? We're literally in glass bubbles, in the middle of a rainforest. Now shut up, and go to sleep."
"You shut up."
"Guys?" Zed chimed.
"Yeah?" The brothers answered.
"I love you both.”
Robbed of their voices, Axel and Vee set aside their bickering to bask in the genial haze of Zed's words. Axel shifted an inch closer while Vee laid stiffly on his side, eyes wide in the dark. As though her claim was bathed in wine, they soaked in the meaning and slipped drunkenly into slumber.
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jtrokujo · 4 years ago
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐒
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pairing: Shoto Todoroki x fem!Reader
word count: 2.1 k
warnings: none
genre: fluff
summary: the bad relationship in the past mixed feelings of him until his heart beat faster and faster for a certain person. Because of his nervousness and fear, he didn't even dare to have a dialogue with her and therefore decided to use the old-fashioned way of confessing his feelings.
The rain, which kept beating on the window panes, saw the young girl see her prospect.
The weather was once again not pleasant.
It should probably stop tomorrow, let's hope, because it has been raining almost continuously for about 3 days.
In addition, the wind blows very strongly from time to time, which doesn't really make the situation any better.
With the heater turned on, she also put on cuddly clothes plus a towel on her hair, as she comes from school and the hair has gotten wet from the weather.
The girl quickly remembered something specific, which is why she reached for her bag.
Rummaging through, she searched for something specific, but she did not find it at first glance, which almost increased her panic.
She took her bag and shook it out.
It came down like in slow motion.
Grabbing it quickly, she took it and made herself comfortable on her bed.
The young girl has been receiving one and the other letter from a mysterious person for weeks.
In addition, every time she opens the letter, a white flower shines out, but it's not just a white flower, but that of a white rose.
How they love this.
The font; clean and orderly.
The Rose; soft and pleasantly scented.
And this notation; the new butterflies that dance in her every time.
Actually, she has no eye on anyone or has the feeling that someone has an eye for her.
Maybe it's because she doesn't pay attention to everyone.
Because she goes to a hero school to become a heroine and not to make new friends.
Still, she has friends with whom she spends most of her time.
The only person who knows is Mina, but sometimes the (H / C) hairy one wishes to have the quirk that other voices take from her.
Example; when they want their books for the next subject and open their locker, the letter falls like every time the letter falls, Mina screeches now and then like a madwoman and sometimes watches the boys, but one thing is clear, it is not a member of the BakuSquad.
With a pounding heart, she finally began to read the letter she had delivered.
As reluctantly as I like to talk about my feelings, or in this case write, I know easily too acceptably that I can do it with you.
Every day I see your smile, your smile that lets butterflies fly into my stomach, your radiance, which gives me protection, your trustworthiness, which makes me cheer up from the difficult days that I have behind me, your jokes that make my heart laugh and that although some of them are also pretty bad or your character itself, everything is perfect, as if you were a handmade doll that does not show a thread.
Everything about you is perfect, your mind, your warmth, your body and infinitely much more.
I want to tell you every day how optimal you are, nonetheless that is also the problem.
You are effortlessly too impeccable to me, in the course of giving almost everyone the cold shoulder, you are pleasant to everyone, for yourself to a few you do not particularly like.
I love getting up every morning just to see you.
It is already funny to master that you talk to me without knowing that it is me.
That this very cowardly person who has the courage to talk to everyone in the way I want, in spite of all this, cannot tell the person that I designed for those feelings.
We talk this way many times, we also spend our free time together and I like to listen to you, but you don't recognize me, the person who wrote you these and other letters every evening with a sad expression on his face.
However, it makes me happy that you read it and also that you hide it as quickly as you can.
I wonder how we were in our previous lifetimes, if you understand what I mean, if not I will explain it to you immediately.
For example, in the 18th century we were lovers who were not allowed to be together and therefore fled.
Or in ancient Romans, for example, when I fought a lion for you.
Or when we spent most of the time together in the Ice Age, just so as not to have to end up as huge insights.
Or will we see each other again in our subsequent lifetime?
I sincerely hope that it is clear to you that there are enough of people out there who love you in the way you are, please do not forget that alone.
And if you should be hungry, do not ignore your stomach and eat as much as you can, nevertheless not too pronounced is not healthy!
See you tomorrow.
As always, she folded her letter again, united as she had previously.
Immediately afterwards she knelt in front of her bed to be able to get at an old shoebox.
She slowly opened it and put her letter there.
Since she receives a newfangled letter almost every independent day, her shoebox is still bursting, as it is obviously not too big.
So far she has received at least 20 letters from her Mysterious Admirers, but she hoped that he should not come to school one day so that she can control who is behind all this.
Especially when the (H / C) wanted to lie down, she noticed that she still had to do her homework for tomorrow.
Sighing, she got up from her bed and did her homework equally.
TIME SKIP
In the morning with no dream whatsoever, her alarm clock woke her up from her sleep.
As much as she wanted to sleep, she gave up regardless of that and got up after slowing down several times.
Yawning, she did her 'morning trial' as if continuously.
After she put on the last pair of her, she said goodbye and was long gone.
After a few minutes she finally arrived, but as always earlier than the others, that Iida and Momo are at school earlier than some teachers, it ultimately doesn't surprise anyone.
From minute to minute the students enter, some talking to each other, some in turn sit quietly in their place and wait for the school bell to ring.
Hitting the floor with her foot, she looked out the window and saw some students entering the school grounds.
Some themselves, some with friends.
By the time anyone entered the classroom, she turned and saw him.
Shoto Todoroki.
Even when they were very small they learned to control themselves, nevertheless they were not like you can see during the films or series from the beginning buddies, no more precisely old acquaintances.
Of course they talked to each other, but they were too different.
It is already clear that they are having the same dreams, however a voice keeps saying again and again at any given moment; You do not belong together.
Anyway, she just doesn't like remembering her old days with Shoto.l
Of course, right now, in some ways, she understands why he was this way, that it hurt her.
There was that one moment when she finally had the courage to talk to him, but it all tended to be a failure instead of what she had planned.
ABOUT 9 YEARS BEFORE
It was the beginning of summer, the sun was shining continuously, the ice was melting on your hands, the long day and the short night, going swimming in combination with relatives and much more.
A real season for people who love warmth endlessly or for those who never get bored.
However, the summer vacation does not initiate for 3 days.
Will Shoto still manage?
At home, things were by no means exceptionally acceptable.
Why no human soul knows except for the people who are to blame.
Even the educators had already asked his parents or his father whether everything was okay at home, he laughed heartily and said that Shoto had been constantly in this way for a long time and that everything was okay at home.
They are currently on a break, which is why all the children are outside and enjoying the weather these days.
The marginal girl saw him watching, 'You will do it, (Y / N), ask him without a hitch if he would like to play with you.'
Of course she could have asked the other one if she had been given a little consideration.
Every time she tries to talk to her fellow human beings, ignore them, they or they walk away without saying a word and since no one soul wants to talk to Shoto, she saw this as her chance to talk to him and who knows, they might Be friends.
"Oi, Shoto." slowly turned, the tiny boy around whence the voice came anyway.
"Do we want to play UNO together?" she asked kindly and shows him the cards.
"I want to be to myself and please don't bother me." he said softly and turned away from her.
Since the little one was a bit sensitive, it had hurt her for a long time, as he had long since turned her away.
Sometimes he said coldly 'Don't nerve' or 'Please get out of here'.
Sighing, she sat a little further away beside him, in silence until the pause passed.
PRESENCE
"Good morning, (Y / N)." she heard his voice.
Turning to his direction, she explained it to him in exactly the same way and, just like the other students before, gave her consideration from the window.
The half-white haired man hung his head sadly and hoped that any second the school bell would explain.
Since one day of school at the UA, they had mutually unusual aura.
Because since the beginning of elementary school you have had no more 'contact' because you go to the selected schools and immediately?
Now they are behaving strangely and already speaking only one sentence in one sentence, they have by no means had a real dialogue together.
Nevertheless, it may also be better that way.
Suddenly the school bell explained and all the students took their seats.
"Good morning, students."
"Good morning Aizawa-sensei!" said the students in chorus, with which the lessons began from now on.
TIME SKIP
"Finally, I had the feeling that this lesson would never end, because this time the lesson with the present mic was pretty bad, he had scared me so much that I forgot what my name was in English." Mina pouted to herself, while her friend, (Y / N), laughed at her heartily.
"Hey, that's not funny!" she said indignantly and finally opened it.
"Yes, please forgive me, Alien Queen."
"Hey, my name was clearly better than yours!"
"Oh yes?" said the (H / C) amused and opened her locker and like every time her letter landed on the floor.
In a few seconds Minas beamed with joy and quickly picked it up for her friend, "Do you have any idea who that might be?" she asked excitedly.
"No, unfortunately not." her friend sighed and put it in her pocket.
"Doesn't matter now, let me escort you home." she said and left without waiting for her.
"Hey, (Y / N), please wait for me!"
On arrival at home (Y / N) did her daily routine, sitting comfortably on the bed with her letter in her hand, she slowly opened it and noticed at first glance that it seemed a little different from the others.
It was short, quite a bit.
Not like the others in that the last sentence on the sheet should be so small that everything fits.
Tomorrow, at the cherry blossom place.
Right after school.
So short and dry?
Well, I had a choice, but I can defend myself at any time and why should I, it's clear that he goes to the UA just like me.
It doesn't matter now either, I should get ready for bed now.
TIME SKIP
"Are you sure you want to go there alone?" Mina asked uncertainly and meanwhile put on her street shoes.
"Yes, but if you want you can send you my location."
"Ok ... but tell me who this person is, understand ?!" Mina giggled to herself.
"Naturally." (Y / N) took a look at her cell phone and saw that she was spending a little longer time with Mina than expected.
"I think I should go!" and jogged out of school, Mina shouting after her "Send me your location!"
"Will I!"
Except for breathing, she has arrived at the meeting point, but she does not know whether she came too early or too late.
While walking in the park, she saw friends talking to each other, couples sitting on a bench and talking about different topics or older seniors taking a little walk.
"I'm very happy that you came, (Y / N)." she heard his voice behind her out of nowhere.
Slowly, as if in slow motion, she turned around and said quietly, with a grin, his name "Shoto?"
TIME SKIP
"Finally, I had the feeling that this lesson would never end, because this time the lesson with the present mic was pretty bad, he had scared me so much that I forgot what my name was in English." Mina pouted to herself, while her friend, (Y / N), laughed at her heartily.
"Hey, that's not funny!" she said indignantly and finally opened it.
"Yes, please forgive me, Alien Queen."
"Hey, my name was clearly better than yours!"
"Oh yes?" said the (H / C) amused and opened her locker and like every time her letter landed on the floor.
In a few seconds Minas beamed with joy and quickly picked it up for her friend, "Do you have any idea who that might be?" she asked excitedly.
"No, unfortunately not." her friend sighed and put it in her pocket.
"Doesn't matter now, let me escort you home." she said and left without waiting for her.
"Hey, (Y / N), please wait for me!"
On arrival at home (Y / N) did her daily routine, sitting comfortably on the bed with her letter in her hand, she slowly opened it and noticed at first glance that it seemed a little different from the others.
It was short, quite a bit.
Not like the others in that the last sentence on the sheet should be so small that everything fits.
Tomorrow, at the cherry blossom place.
Right after school.
So short and dry?
Well, I had a choice, but I can defend myself at any time and why should I, it's clear that he goes to the UA just like me.
It doesn't matter now either, I should get ready for bed now.
TIME SKIP
"Are you sure you want to go there alone?" Mina asked uncertainly and meanwhile put on her street shoes.
"Yes, but if you want you can send you my location."
"Ok ... but tell me who this person is, understand ?!" Mina giggled to herself.
"Naturally." (Y / N) took a look at her cell phone and saw that she was spending a little longer time with Mina than expected.
"I think I should go!" and jogged out of school, Mina shouting after her "Send me your location!"
"Will I!"
Except for breathing, she has arrived at the meeting point, but she does not know whether she came too early or too late.
While walking in the park, she saw friends talking to each other, couples sitting on a bench and talking about different topics or older seniors taking a little walk.
"I'm very happy that you came, (Y / N)." she heard his voice behind her out of nowhere.
Slowly, as if in slow motion, she turned around and said quietly, with a grin, his name "Shoto?"
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estrel · 4 years ago
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suptober20 day 18 prompt: dark and stormy night (ficlet) | tfw 2.0 + destiel | ~ 1.4k words
It had been a nice day when they first set out to the only apple orchard in Lebanon, Kansas.
The air was cold but bearable, and Jack’s joyful smile when he picked a Dean-approved red apple was enough to make it worth it for Cas. Sam and Dean’s apparent ease as they strolled was another win, too.
They spent a solid hour walking between rows of apple trees, most of the time Cas walking next to Dean, who kept talking about all of the pie they could make with the apples when they got back home.
“Oh, and we’ll have to pick up some ice cream too, Sammy. A la mode.”
So Cas had pretended not to notice when the clouds gathered above them, forming a canopy that was sure to rain down on them at any minute.
It was fast to act, as well, as if hearing Cas’ silent plea and doing exactly the opposite just to spite him. Because before long, it was pouring, and it had quickly become a dark and stormy night.
Cas held his wings high, in hopes of shielding his family from as much rain as possible. Jack noticed and smiled at him in thanks, but Sam and Dean couldn’t see the source of their good fortune. They still got wet, of course, but Castiel bore the brunt of it, his hair flat and dripping water down his shirt.
Dean gave him a strange look when he’d noticed Cas’ state.
“Car’s not too far, if I remember right,” Sam said, voiced raised above the sounds of rainfall.
Cas nodded, shaking his wings a bit, and wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulders.
“Keep them under mine,” Cas said, motioning to Jack’s wings, “It looks like lightning’s about to strike.”
And strike, it did.
Not on Castiel, or any of them, but a few feet away, shattering some limbs of an apple tree, and making all of them flinch at the crack. With the wind so ferocious, a branch came flying, and Cas instinctively pulled Dean closer to shield him from the blow.
Then his wings curled in on themselves and he hissed, and Dean was gripping him by the shoulder, getting soaked.
“You okay? What the hell?”
Cas drew out a shaky breath. Looking around them, he caught sight of the impala not far away.
“There,” he pointed, and Sam led them to the car.  
Sam slipped into the driver’s seat and once they were all situated, the sound of the rain was only a dull thwacking noise on the windows.
In the back seat, Jack was looking at Cas with worry.
“Cas, your wing–”
Sam started up the engine.
“His what?” Dean twisted around to face them. Cas tried schooling his features as best he could, and tracked the rivets of water that raced from Dean’s hair to his jaw.
“It’s nothing, Dean.”
“No, I think it’s something,” Dean retorted.
Sam looked at Cas through the rearview as he backed out of the parking space.
“You kept that branch from hitting Dean,” he started. “I thought you were just using your grace, but—but was that—?
Cas sighed as they merged onto the main road home. He didn’t want them to worry, didn’t want to turn what was supposed to be a fun day into a stressful one. He looked down at the basket of drenched apples in Jack’s lap.
“My wings, yes. I thought—I thought I could shield you all from the rain, but the branch hit it when I tried to keep it from crashing into Dean.”
Sam’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. Cas felt his wing ache, and he was almost certain that he had broken it.
“Damn it, Cas. I woulda been fine, and now your—your wing’s all—well, how is it?” Dean fumbled with his words, still facing Cas with his hands on the back of his seat.
Cas pointedly didn’t answer.
Jack huffed. “It’s broken.”
“Jack—”
“Broken?”
“How bad is it?”
“Well, how do we fix it?”
“It will heal by itself,” Cas said over them. They quieted down to listen, “It’s just that it’s…more difficult to keep them where there are.”
A beat. “What the hell does that mean?” Dean frowned.
It was only getting harder to keep them hidden, and Cas felt them straining against the dimension he hid them in.
“I’m sorry,” he managed, before there was a loud ruffle and his wings hit the insides of the car, his good wing just barely missing Jack’s head.
The car swerved, and two shouts of “Woah!” echoed throughout.
“Christ, Cas! Are—are you—are those—”
His right wing was scrunched up against him. It was the injured one, and it was even more uncomfortable even here on this plane, pressed achingly against the roof of Dean’s car.
“Yes.”
“Okay, Cas, just hold on, we’ll be home soon,” Sam soothed.
They did get to the bunker not ten minutes later, the inside chilly and dark, even though Cas was pretty sure they’d left the heater on before leaving.
“Power’s out,” Sam told them, emerging from the maintenance room. He eyed Cas’ wings and then forcibly moved his gaze to Cas’ face.
“How’s the wing?”
Cas was sitting slumped in a chair in the map room, shivering and dripping water all over the floor.
“It’s…not as bad, now. Dean is getting me some dry clothes. Sorry…about what happened in the car.”
Sam shook his head, hair damp and sticking to his face in some places. “No, don’t worry about it, Cas. Really.”
Dean came in then, some towels and clothes folded in a neat pile.
“Jack’s drinking hot chocolate in the kitchen. Told him to go shower and change once he’s done.”  He placed the stack of fabrics on the table, studying Cas’ wings in a way that Dean probably thought was discreet.  
Sam muttered something about changing, too, and shuffled quietly out of the room.
Dean took a towel from the stack and unfolded it. “What do we think, wings first, or the rest of you?”
“The rest of me,” Cas grumbled. “But I can do that myself.”
He held out a hand to take the towel, but Dean pulled it away from Cas’ reach.
“Hey, it’s the least I can do,” was all he said before ruffling Cas’ hair with the towel.
It was jarring, and then soothing, Dean rubbing rhythmic circles in his hair. If Cas hadn’t been so tense from his wing, he might’ve fallen asleep then and there.
Then the towel was removed from his head, and Dean motioned for him to take his coat off, before stopping abruptly.
“Oh,” he said. “Your…”
Cas wouldn’t be able to take his coat off without cutting it. He cringed at the thought.
“Let’s leave it on, for now.”
“Hm. Then at least your pants, buddy. Socks too.”
Cas noticed they were Dean’s sweats and socks, and not one of the few pairs he owned himself. He stood to change and toed off his shoes before Dean turned around.
“I’ll…uh…just stand here and make sure they don’t come in.”
Cas nodded at his back and took off his wet clothes as slowly as possible, so as to not jolt his bad wing. When he finally was changed, Dean turned back around, the tips of his ears red.
He was wearing new clothes, too—a faded t-shirt and sweats—but his hair was still drying and looked a shade or two darker than it usually did. He was holding out the second towel he had brought.
“Um…can I…?”
Dean gestured towards his wings, and Cas nodded. He’d like to know what exactly might be wrong with it, though he suspected Jack's answer earlier had been correct.
Dean was gentle. He started with Cas’ good wing before migrating to the broken one, touch feather-light in some places, and he didn’t probe the injured area at all. Just leaned in close to inspect it.
“Definitely broken,” Dean mumbled, breath warm on Cas’ wound. “Is there…anything we can do to ease it, a little? I mean, I feel kind of responsible.”
Cas shook his head and tried looking over his shoulder to where Dean was standing. “No, I’m alright. Like I said, it’ll heal on its own. But…my wings will have to stay here for a while longer until they do.”
Dean nodded, and then let out a small laugh. Cas gave him a confused look.
“What a helluva night this has become, huh? Rained in, power out, broken wings. C’mon, let’s go see if we can get you something warm to drink.”
“I don’t need to—”
“Ah,” Dean joked, “Need is different than want, pal. I can make you some of Sam’s chamomile crap. Besides, I'm freezing."
Cas smiled fondly. Before he got up to follow Dean into the kitchen, he thought that maybe today hadn’t been so bad after all.
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zaph1337 · 4 years ago
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Monster Hunter Rating 25: Yian Kut-Ku, the Strange Bird
Of all the monsters I’ve talked about so far, I think Khezu is the most popular one due to how much it differs from standard Monster Hunter fare. But Khezu doesn’t have a “holiday” named after it, so I think this next monster beats it out. Let’s talk about Yian Kut-Ku!
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(How it appears in Monster Hunter Freedom 1)
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(How it appears in Monster Hunter Online)
Appearance: Yian Kut-Ku is a Bird Wyvern, like Gypceros and the dromaeosaurs. I can’t tell what kinda bird has a beak like that, but it reminds me of the shoebill, though obviously their bills are longer. Besides the beak, the most distinct feature Yian Kut-Ku has is the pair of frill-like ears it’s fanning out. According to the wiki, those ears point up like that when it’s angered, so most of the time they’re bent back. It also has big claws on its wings, which have a blue membrane that already earns it points in my book. Other than that, it’s a basic wyvern, but I mentioned that it had a “holiday,” so I’ll elaborate on that here. See, Yian Kut-Ku’s Japanese name is Iyankukku, or イャンクック.  クック is the “kukku” portion, and the word for 9 in Japanese is ku, or  ク. So September 9th, or 9/9, is ku ku, and since Monster Hunter’s so big in Japan, 9/9 became Yian Kut-Ku day. In other words, it’s a pun. Gotta love the Japanese. Back to the appearance, well, like I said, it’s got a basic wyvern body type. The head’s the only thing different about it, but there doesn’t really need to be anything too different, so it’s kinda in the middle for me. 5/10.
Behavior: Yian Kut-Ku mostly live in forests and the like, though they occasionally go to volcanoes to feed on coal...SURE. Okay, the coal’s used as fuel for their flame sacs, while their actual diet consists mainly of honey, nuts, and insects, primarily Neopterons. They try not to get into fights with anything bigger, though, as they’re pretty easy to rattle. If they run into a predator, they’ll try to make themselves look bigger by fanning out their ears, stretching their wings, and making a lot of noise. Considering the monsters that prey on them, though, I wouldn’t be surprised if this doesn’t work a lot, which is why the main Yian Kut-Ku strategy for dealing with threats is “book it.” They get into territorial conflicts with their cousins, the Yian Garuga, which like to play cuckoo bird and lay their eggs in Yian Kut-Ku nests. Speaking of eggs, female Yian Kut-Ku grow feathers on their undersides during breeding season to help them incubate eggs. This breeding season is dependent on the weather, so if the weather in their territory is stable year-round, the breeding season will be that long, too. Once the eggs hatch, the chicks are fed insects and honey until a certain age, at which point they, uh...hm. The wiki doesn’t say what happens next. Well, that’s a let-down.
Honestly, Yian Kut-Ku just seem to be giant birds in terms of their behavior, which is fitting, I guess, but the most interesting thing about them is that they sometimes eat coal. I get that I shouldn’t expect every monster in this series to act totally unlike any animal in our world, but basic bird behavior isn’t that interesting to me. 4/10.
Abilities: Obviously, Yian Kut-Ku can fly, but like almost every flying monster I’ve gone over, they’re not that great at it compared to some other wyverns. They’re still decent fliers, but they do their best battling on the ground, where they can propel themselves backwards with their wings by creating buffeting winds, which kick up a lot of dust and stun (not the status condition) opponents. They use their tough beaks to bash hunters, but they’re best known for spitting fireballs, which are effective at killing small and weak prey/predators, but not very good at killing bigger and badder opponents.
Now, Yian Kut-Ku are pretty basic, but they kinda have to be for how early on you fight them in the first game. Which brings up something you might have been wondering: “why is Yian Kut-Ku so popular?” Well, according to the Twitch streamer I brought up in the Khezu review, Yian Kut-Ku is memorable for those who got into the series with the very first game because of how difficult it is to kill when you first fight it. At that point in the game, the only Main Monster you’ve killed is a Velocidrome, which has no ranged attacks and stays on the ground. But Yian Kut-Ku can fly and spit fireballs, and you have no experience dealing with something like that. As a result, Yian Kut-Ku is the first “wall” in Monster Hunter; the first major obstacle to progress new players face. Because of that, this normally “meh” monster is a lot more memorable to old-time fans.
Now, obviously, I’ve never played the first Monster Hunter game, or even seen any footage of it, but I can respect the legacy behind Yian Kut-Ku’s first battle, so even though the abilities themselves are only “okay,” I’ll be generous here and give it a 6/10.
Equipment: Yian Kut-Ku weapons are what you’d expect; they’re comical because they bear the monster’s design. For an example, here’s a pair of Dual Blades called Twin Kut-Ku:
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Awww, they look so happy together. And derpy, but that’s just how Kut-Ku do. But now we get grumpy with the Light Bowgun called Kut-Ku Anger:
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I can’t tell if it’s angry or not, but it’s certainly Kut-Ku. Now, most of the weapons are this silly, but there’s one more that I want to highlight: this Great Sword called the Chick Decapitator:
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First off, this thing looks fleshy and gross. Second off, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, CAPCOM!? “CHICK DECAPITATOR!?” Are we playing Monster Hunter or “Can Your Pet?” Let’s...let’s just go to the armor now. This is the Blademaster set from Monster Hunter Freedom Unite:
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Yeah, this looks about right. Like you’re wearing samurai armor made of spam. Props on giving the girl an actual helmet, though. Not a lot of armor sets do that. I don’t get what that blue rope on the male set’s supposed to do; I mean, I get it, it’s holding up what I assume to be a flap made of the Yian Kut-Ku’s ears, I just don’t know why it’s there. Is it meant to be a loincloth? Why does the guy wearing the armor need one? And why is the rope blue for him, but the little bits of rope on the girl’s armor are dark red? How many licks does it take to get to the end of these questions? Oh, we’re there? Okay then.
The Yian Kut-Ku equipment is fine. Most of the weapons are funny, but again, spam armor and Chick Decapitator. I’ll give this a 6/10.
Final Thoughts and Tally: Seems like a lot of Yian Kut-Ku’s appeal is lost on me, ‘cause I just think it’s average. I guess there’s a bigger difference between knowing its legacy and being a part of it than I thought. Alas, if you gave me the first Monster Hunter game when it was new in the states, then, well, I’d probably suck at it and grow up hating Yian Kut-Ku for stopping me from enjoying the game. Can’t win ‘em all, buddy. 5/10.
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tiffdawg · 5 years ago
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Curriculum Vitae: Chapter Three
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Gif: @javier-pena
curriculum vitae noun cur·ric·u·la vi·tae Latin. the course of one's life.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)
Word Count: 3.1k
Rated: M  | Warnings: Intense gazing. Mild language.
Chapter Summary: In this chapter, you start to see a different side to Javier Peña as he struggles to adjust to academia.
A/N: Thank you for your comments and support on the last chapter! I'm so excited that someone is actually enjoying this story and I hope you know that literally every comment takes me out for twenty minutes because they make me so stupidly happy. I love you all!
Read on AO3
CV Masterlist | My Masterlist
… . …
Chapter Three
When you entered your lecture hall on Wednesday morning, once again affording Peña plenty of time to clear out, the scene from Monday repeated itself almost verbatim. He was at the podium, shoulders slightly hunched and hands grasping either side of the cherry wood, surrounded by an excited crowd of students. You’d hoped you would miss him entirely – especially after what had happened in the library – but it seemed luck was not on your side. So, you sipped idly at the lukewarm remnants in your cardboard coffee cup, figuring you might as well watch the show. Speaking sure as hell never seemed to work well for the two of you.
The only difference was that this time, he noticed you right away. You suddenly felt self-conscious in your simple black trousers and modest blouse under his intense scrutiny, and you wondered what he was looking for as he stared at you for just a moment too long. You half-expected him to make some caustic remark. While neither of you had been particularly kind to the other the night before, you probably would’ve deserved it. His words had stung, but it was nothing you hadn’t heard a hundred times before. While you didn’t exactly regret anything you had said, you did wonder if you might’ve struck too deep a nerve. Instead, he turned to his students and told them to talk to him during his office hours.
“When are your office hours, sir?” a young man asked, the same overeager student from Monday.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I know,” he said dismissively, scratching his brow. With that, the students started to wander off and you parted the sea of stragglers to get to the chalkboard. You intended to use it for your lecture and there was a scrawling mess of some Cyrillic language, no doubt not from Peña’s class. However, he beat you to the eraser.
“I’ve got this, doctora.”
You actually felt your head tilt to the side and it strangely reminded you of the way Sunny cocked her head when you spoke to her. Like she recognized your voice, heard your words, but didn’t understand the language. His kindness surprised you and you weren’t sure if he was taunting you with his new diminutive of choice or attempting to apologize in his own strange way. At least doctora was accurate, and it was a hell of a lot better than sweetheart. “Thanks,” you offered hesitantly, “I think.”
When he finished erasing the first panel and moved to the second, you picked up a scrap of chalk and started writing a list of key terms and important names you didn’t want to have to bother with during your lecture. All the while, you hated the way your eyes kept casting to the side, stealing unintentional glances at Peña. Your hand idled as you lost your focus in favor examining the way he moved even as he did something as simple and mundane as clear a chalkboard. But, as ridiculous as it was, you found that you were unable to stop yourself from watching the pull of his light gray suit jacket around his body or the clap of his hands as he attempted to remove the chalk dust.
And in your folly, he caught you.
He smirked at you as he adjusted his boldly pattern tie that should’ve been left in the previous decade and you turned back to your vocabulary list with warm cheeks and added the last few letters to the word you’d abandoned. Then, just as you thought he was about to leave, he took a seat in the last row.
To say you were confused would’ve been an understatement. Bewildered or baffled might’ve been more apt descriptors, but even those words seemed lacking. Deciding not to let Javier Peña distract you from your job any more than he already had that morning, you pulled out your lecture notes and focused on what really mattered: your class and your students. Not the man intently watching your every move.
… . …
Apparently, even visiting lecturers had to attend the weekly Thursday morning faculty meeting.
As Javier sat at the furthest end of the conference room table, only half listening to the department chair drone on about the new graduation requirements for undergraduate sociology majors and minors, he seriously debated the necessity of his presence. Dr. Campbell, as he’d quickly learned the first time that he spoke with the man over the phone a few weeks ago, had a preference for five-dollar words and loved the sound of his own voice. It was amazing he was as long-winded as he was considering the tightness of the obnoxious canary yellow bow tie around his neck. Javier pulled at his own tie, already loose and askew, suddenly feeling constricted by it. Aside from the fact that Campbell’s rundown on the new procedures seemed unnecessary –the regular faculty looked like they’d heard this news a thousand times already – Javier knew he had very little function beyond drawing attention to the school of social sciences. Sure, he technically had to teach a handful of classes this year, which was itself a task proving even more difficult than he’d originally anticipated. But, at the end of the day, he was only there because of his reputation and to lend his name to the university. He only hoped that no one expected much more than that from him.
They’d only be disappointed.
He glanced down the table to where you sat taking occasional notes in between drawing something in the corner of your notebook. He wasn’t sure how, but you’d taken one look at him and figured him out. 
You don’t deserve to be here.
Your words from the other night echoed in his mind. While everyone else seemed intent on showering him with empty flattery and undue praise, you saw him for what he really was. And you were right. He definitely didn’t feel like he deserved to teach classes at a prestigious university, to hold any sort of position of prominence or power at an institution like this. He’d retired from the DEA, given up the only job he knew how to do, without any inclination of what he would do next. Accepting this job was nothing short of an unhappy accident that was the result of some sort of second-career-meets-midlife-crisis impasse. Come to think of it, he might’ve been drinking when he called Dr. Campbell and accepted his offer.
“I’ve but one final announcement before I release you all for the day. As is tradition, the planning this year’s student conference will fall to two of our youngest and brightest professors, so it should be no surprise which of you will assume the responsibility.” Campbell finally caught Javier’s attention when he gestured down the length of the table to you. You smiled brightly at the department chair and the rest of your coworkers. “You, my dear, have done a brilliant job in the past and I expect nothing less this year. And I’m sure our newest appointed professor, Dr. Sheffield, will be more than happy to assist and learn from you.”
“Fucking ecstatic,” the man next to him grumbled under his breath. He followed the man’s gaze back to you and watched your smile vanish. Looking back at Sheffield, he noted that he was younger than Javier, although not by much, and sturdily built but soft around the middle. His belt seemed to be cinched one notch too many. Definitely a beer drinker. There was something inherently boorish about the man and although he hadn’t noticed him until that exact moment, Javier decided that he didn’t like him.
“I’ll have Debra set up a meeting for the three of us sometime next week to discuss the issue further,” Campbell added, “And with that said I think we can consider this meeting adjourned. I do believe the Anthropology department has reserved the room for the upcoming hour, so we best leave them to it.” 
The other faculty and staff started filing out of the conference room, but evidently Sheffield felt Javier’s stare. He turned to him and offered a hand.
“Javier Peña, I presume.” The way he mispronounced his name was almost embarrassing. “Been looking forward to meeting you all week.”
“What an honor,” Javier drawled, shaking the sweaty proffered hand. 
“I’m Andrew Sheffield.” 
“I gathered that.”
Seemingly oblivious to his curt responses, Sheffield continued. “Let me know if you ever need anything, man. And, if you’re into it, a couple of buddies of mine from the other departments golf on Sundays. You’re always welcome.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Javier responded, knowing he’d wouldn’t go golfing if his life depended on it, let alone with this guy.
“Cool, and like I said, happy to help.”
“You didn’t seem so happy to help your other colleague a minute ago.” He couldn’t stop himself. He’d been talking to Sheffield for all of a minute and he was already on his last nerve.
“Well, I, uh– I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sheffield stumbled, clearly flustered, “Besides, that’s different. She’s, well, you’ll see.”
“I’m sure,” Javier said, gathering his things and pushing back his chair. He slapped Sheffield’s shoulder, maybe a little harder than strictly necessary. “See you around, bud.”
… . …
By Friday, your hectic first week of the quarter had caught up to you. You were more than a little tired and couldn’t wait for the weekend. Still, you put on a smile as you prepared to start your lecture. You’d made a vow to yourself years ago that you would never become that jaded, joyless professor that made student’s lives miserable. It was for your own benefit as much as theirs.
You knew Peña didn’t have a class on Fridays – the lecture hall had been empty when you arrived that morning – so you were more than a little surprised when he showed up for your class. Just when you thought you weren’t going to have to deal with him that day, he quietly slipped into the back row.
You couldn’t escape the man.
At the same time, as much as you hated to admit it, you’d been looking for him everywhere you went on campus ever since your Wednesday lecture. His actions confounded you – you were sure he hated you after that night in the library, but yet, here he was attending your class again. For what reason? You had no clue.
Deciding it would be best to simply overlook Javier’s presence in your classroom, you started your lecture. However, you quickly discovered he was impossible to ignore. Especially considering the way his dark eyes trailed you, followed your every movement. It didn’t matter that he was sitting in the back of the room. You could feel him watching you.
It should’ve been annoying. Aggravating, even. 
But it was something else entirely. Something that ignited a slow, steady heat inside of you. Something you steadfastly refused to name.
Once again, he didn’t wait for you after your lecture, and you weren’t sure why that disappointed you.
… . …
“How was your anniversary?”
“It was actually really fun. We got a sitter and Henry took me to this fancy restaurant downtown he’d been to on business lunches. He’d mentioned wanting to take me before, but I was still surprised that he’d actually made a reservation on his own,” Beverly explained, forgetting all about her chicken salad, “I’m sure you can understand why – you’ve met my husband.”
The two of you were sitting at your usual bench near an especially green spot on campus. The shade of a beautifully overgrown Moreton bay fig tree shielded you from the bright sun and your feet rested against a sprawling root creeping under the bench. “That’s so romantic of him,” you gushed. You sighed dreamily, playing it up for her benefit.
“I know! I don’t think we’ve had a night out like that since our youngest was born. So, what? Two years ago!” She made an exaggerated exasperated expression and you snickered at her. “I didn’t know the man had it in him. But it was very swanky, and they had these little chocolate cakes that, like, oozed more chocolate when you cut into them. Apparently, that’s the new thing but I never get out so I’m behind on the times.” 
“Don’t feel bad,” you said as you stabbed at your container of sliced fruit, “I haven’t been on a date in months so I’m right there with you on that one.”
“We gotta fix that.” Bev nudged you playfully.
You made a discouraging face and shook your head. “No, thank you. I’ve got plenty to worry about right now without having to deal with a relationship.”
“Doesn’t have to be a relationship,” she countered in a singsong voice. 
“You really can’t be stopped, can you?” you asked with an amused laugh. She shook her head and took another bite of her lunch. “Relationship or not, dating is just too complicated. It’s too distracting.” 
“Maybe,” Bev conceded, “But there’s more to life than work, sweetie. As much as I complain about Henry, I really do love the man. And he loves me. That’s something special. I can’t help but want something like that for you too.” You loved Beverly, but sometimes you hated how perceptive she was. Without ever having to voice your own thoughts or desires – sometimes without even admitting them to yourself – she always saw the truth to your words. Work always came first for you. Often at the disadvantage of the rest of your life. When you were quiet for longer than she would’ve liked, she lightened the conversation. “Of course, whoever your person is, would have to be someone as equally spectacular as you, so it might take a while to find them. But we’ll work on it.”
You returned her soft smile with one of your own. “We’ll see. But I’m not sure that person is out there, so don’t hold your breath.” You held out your plastic container. “Cantaloupe?”
“You know that’s my favorite,” she laughed as she skewered a few slices for herself.
… . …
After your lecture and lunch with Bev, you walked home to pick up Sunny before returning to your office. Friday afternoons were usually quiet on campus as students and professors alike preferred not to schedule classes that day of the week, for obvious reasons. You still had quite a bit of work to do before you were free to enjoy the weekend and your dog made for good company. Sunny was small and quiet enough that no one ever noticed her when you snuck her into the office. She was a mild-mannered dog, and that day she alternated between sleeping on your lap and watching birds and students alike from the window while you made a decent dent in the pile of work you had to get through. 
She was as well behaved as always, but, unsurprisingly, a couple hours later she started to get restless and you took that as your cue to call it a night.
“Alright, let’s go home, girl,” you said to her as you gathered your things. You piled a few books into your tote, wavering for a moment on one particularly heavy tome you weren’t sure you wanted to haul back to your apartment before you tossed that one in too. You slide your flats back on, having had kicked them off while you worked, and reached for the door. As soon as it was open wide enough for Sunny to fit through, she sprinted out ahead of you.
“Shit!” you hissed taking off after her. She’d never done that before. “Get back here!”
Your eyes practically popped out of your head as she darted into an open office.
You burst into your colleague’s office, intent on dragging her out of there while apologizing profusely. Instead you froze at the sight before you. Sunny was perched on Javier Peña’s lap. To make matters worse, the devious little traitor was excitedly licking his face as he petted her, soothing her fur with a gentle hand. What was even more surprising than her wagging tail, was the goofy grin on his face. It was the kind of unrestrained smile that crinkled his eyes and made him look younger than his years. It was, for lack of a better word, charming.
“I take it this is your dog?” he asked, breaking you from your trance.
“Yeah,” you answered, shaking your head at the scene, “She– She really seems to like you,” you observed, not bothering to hide your confoundment.
“I can tell.” Sunny calmed down, panting happily as Peña scratched behind her perky ears. “At least one of you does,” he said, finally training his brown eyes on you.
“Eh, she likes everyone. Don’t read too much into it,” you said, shrugging off his insinuation. And it was true for the most part. Sunny was a friendly dog, but she did have a strong intuition when it came to people’s sense of character and she always knew who she didn’t like. Even you had to admit she was quite taken with Peña.
“What kind of dog is she?” he asked, turning his attention back to the dog on his lap.
“My best guess is some kind of border collie mix. All I know is Sunny is not a purebred and a bit of a runt, which is probably how she ended up on the street in the first place.”
“Sunny?” he said, cocking his head at you.
You huffed out a small laugh. “I found her on Sunset Boulevard. So, in a moment of sheer genius I called her Sunny as a temporary name before I found her owners or a new family to take her in,” you explained, “Turned out I was her new family and the next thing I knew she was responding to the name. It stuck.”
“She’s sweet. I’ve always liked dogs,” he said, quirking his brow as he looked up at you again, “You can trust their judgement.”
Pursing your lips, you made a noncommittal noise, not wanting to agree despite feeling the same way. With a final wet kiss to his cheek, Sunny hopped down from his lap and trotted over to your side, acting the part of the loyal pet. You glared at her as you quickly attached her lead to her collar, ensuring she wouldn’t cause any more trouble. She’d already provoked the first civil conversation between you and Peña – who knew what else she was capable of. You decided it was best if you took your leave before she caused another miracle. “Have a nice weekend, Peña.”
“You too, doctora,” he said with a smirk and a wink.
 ... . ...
Thank you for reading!
... . ...
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knox-knocks · 4 years ago
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This is my gift to @yeahboiislay​ / @bhenchod​ for the @aftgexchange ! I really hope you enjoy, i had so much fun with the prompts you gave!
Having the evening to themselves, Matt and Neil plan an awesome Boys' Night that consists of movies, a surplus amount of food, and maybe a bit too much alcohol. Everything starts of great, but when they wake up the next morning with no memories, no money, and no eyebrows, they try to retrace their steps to figure out what the hell happened last night and run into a few problems. 
~ ~
“Neeeeeeeiiiiiiil," Matt sings as he sails through the door to the suite, arms laden with a mountain of food. He grins at Neil and drops the snacks – seven different boxes of candy, two large bags of M&Ms, a six pack of soda, a bowl of popcorn, and a rather large bottle of rum – onto the table where they skitter to the sides and would have fallen if Neil hadn’t caught them in time. “Are you ready?”
Neil bounces around his friend, cradling one of the bags of M&Ms to his chest. He raises it above his head in triumphant glory at not letting it fall to the floor and meets Matt’s full-wattage smile with one of his own. Despite his hesitation at the amount of junk food and alcohol Matt had proposed for tonight, he could feel a current of excitement coursing through him. “I’m ready,” he declares.
“Do you mind?”
Neil’s attention is pulled to the couch, where an irate Aaron is stationed. He looks a little rumbled with his glasses askew on his nose and at least three different textbooks spread out on the coffee table in front of him. He frowns at the pair. “Not that I care, but what are you two yahoos up to anyway?”
“Boys’ night!” Matt and Neil answer in unison. They share an uncoordinated fist bump, difficult because Matt is a foot taller and Neil is still holding the bag of M&Ms over his head.
“Dan and the girls are doing their own thing and Nicky has a skype date with Erik,” Matt explains.
“And Andrew and Kevin are in Michigan trying to recruit more players for next year,” Neil adds, eyeing the precariously leaning tower of food behind Matt.
“You can join us if you’d like,” Matt says before Neil can protest. Neil shoots him a look just as the pile of snacks topples over and Matt dives for it, successfully avoiding Neil’s scornful expression.
“No thanks,” Aaron says. He regards the snacks and Matt trying to push them back into order with more than a little disdain. “I’ll just go to Katelyn’s. Don’t make too much of a mess, and have fun I guess.”
The bottle of rum rolls past Neil’s feet in a haphazard escape, and Matt darts after it on his hands and knees.
“We’re just gonna watch some movies and eat junk food,” Neil says. “How big of a mess can we make?”
_ _
Neil wakes some indeterminable time later with the worst headache he’s ever had in his entire life. His first thought as he comes slowly back to awareness is
ow, fuck
, and the second is
why is the ceiling so close to my face?
He blinks blearily at the too-close ceiling and wills the pain throbbing in his temples to go away. When his vision clears and Neil feels like he can move without keeling over, he realizes that’s he’s not staring at the ceiling at all, but at the underside of the coffee table in Matt’s suite.
Neil groans, clutching his head, and wiggles out from under the table. One of his shoes is missing, but it’s probably the least of Neil’s problems, because the room is an utter disaster.
It looks like a warzone, popcorn strewn across the room and smashed into the carpet, and a section near the television has a suspicious and atrociously orange stain that is half-heartedly covered by a couch cushion that does not belong to anyone Neil knows. Neil gapes at the carnage for one, stunned second and fumbles for the TV remote to turn it off, powering it down in the middle of an informercial about a magic towel that can clean any mess that inexplicably seems to be playing on repeat.
Silence rings in Neil’s ears, blotted out only by the blood rushing to his head. He briefly wonders what the hell happened last night, but trying to think back makes his head hurt worse, so he decides to go seek out Matt. Neil doubts Matt is in any better shape that Neil is, but maybe he remembers a bit of what they did to get in this situation.
The person he finds passed out in the kitchen is not Matt at all. For one, they are about six inches too short and their skin is three shades too pale. Secondly, they are dressed in nothing but shorts and the grinning head of Palmetto’s mascot, Foxy Roxy. Neil blinks in surprise at the half-naked stranger slumped on the floor before making sure they’re still breathing. When Neil is satisfied that he didn’t accidentally stumble across a body, he continues his search for Matt.
Neil finds him face-down on the floor behind the couch, snoring soundly and cradling a bottle of vodka, dyed an electric shade of orange. That, Neil supposes, would explain the stain by the TV. At least Matt is mostly dressed.
“Matt,” Neil hisses and nudges him lightly in the ribs. When he doesn’t stir, he kicks him a little harder. “Wake up,”
“Allison leave those gnomes alone,” Matt mutters incoherently. He turns over in his sleep and the vodka rolls away from him. Arms now empty, Matt wraps his arms around himself and hugs his chest. Neil isn’t paying attention to any of that though, his eyes are glued to Matt’s face, still slack with sleep.
Mostly, he looks normal. Except he doesn’t have any eyebrows, and what looks to be a single fake mustache from Party City is clinging for dear life where his left brow should be.
Neil presses a hand to his mouth, not sure whether the look on his face is one of horror and shock, or of laughter. He kicks Matt again.
“Ow, fuck,” Matt groans and opens his eyes. He says nothing at first, squinting up at Neil with a look that says he has the worst hangover ever. Then his eyes widen and his mouth falls open into a comical little o.
“Neil,” he says, hushed. “Your face.”
Neil’s hands fly to his face, scared of what he might find, but instead of the eyebrow’s he expects, his fingers meet smooth, freshly shaved skin.
“No,” he whispers.
Matt cackles, still staring at the unfortunate lack of facial hair on Neil’s face.
“Don’t laugh,” gripes Neil, covering the place where his eyebrows used to be with his hands. “Yours are gone too.”
The humor drains out of Matt’s face and he gasps, clutching his forehead. His clumsy hands dislodge the fake mustache and he watches it flutter to the floor with something like horror on his face. “No,” he mourns, picking it up and cradling it in his hands.
“What the hell happened?” Neil demands.
Matt is still staring at the faux-facial hair, mouth opening and closing in shock. Neil grabs his face and forces him to focus. “Matty,” he says, “we’re in deep shit.”
“The last thing I remember is walking to the liquor store for more alcohol,” Matt says, coming back to his senses. “This was before…” Matt spots the guy passed out in the kitchen. His eyebrows would have furrowed in confusion if he still had any. “That,” he says. “But after we had a popcorn fight.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” Neil admits. “Hang on, where’s my phone?”
“Why?” Matt asks. “You never use your phone.”
“Unless I’m drunk.” Neil ducks his head under the couch, looking for anything that looks vaguely like his outdated cellphone. He only finds more popcorn. He gives up his search when he swipes his hand along the kitchen counter and it comes away sticky.
“Maybe you left it outside?” Matt suggests. “I think you tried to call Andrew right before we came back in.”
“Great,” Neil says. He makes for the door, but Matt’s arm shooting out in front of him stop him in his tracks.
“We can’t go out like this,” he says, motioning to his face. He casts his gaze around the destruction in the room and his eyes light up when they fall on the coffee table. He lunges, knocking various bottles of soda and a sock away in his haste to get whatever it is he’s scrounging for.
He holds it up for Neil to inspect. It’s the remaining fake mustaches, tucked safely inside a plastic packet that is indeed from Party City.
“This could work?” he says. He glances from the mustaches to Neil, considering. He hold it up to Neil’s face. “I think this might actually be your shade.”
“I’m not putting that on my face,” Neil says, nonplussed and at awe that Matt would suggest such a thing.
“Go and be eyebrow-less then,” Matt sniffs. “Release your inhibitions.”
Scowling, Neil snatches the mustaches from his hands and fishes out them out. He shakes them out on to his hand. Two fall out, only enough for one.
There’s a beat of silence. Matt and Neil look at each other, and then at the fake mustaches.
“You can – ” Neil starts but Matt interrupts.
“No, no. You take them, buddy,” he says tearfully. He takes the mustaches from Neil and peels the paper off the sticky backing and carefully presses each one into their proper places.
They stare at each other for a long moment; Matt, eyebrow-less. Neil, clinging onto the last vestiges of his dignity. Matt is the one to break the silence.
“Neil,” he says, “you’re going to need to put your shoes on.”
After Neil locates his other shoe and he and Matt leave to find Neil’s phone, their search is interrupted by a large man angrily shouting in their direction. He storms over, red-faced and spitting out a stream of explicatives that would have any southerner clutching their pearls.
“Is he talking to us?” Matt asks. He’s still quite hungover; a pair of sunglasses shades his eyes from the afternoon sun and he wipes away the damp sheen of sweat clinging to his forehead with the back of his hand.
Neil, equally as hungover, squints at the man approaching. Upon further inspection, Neil recognizes him as the pitcher from Palmetto’s baseball team, Ricky Mercado. As far as Neil knows, they have never interacted.
“Nah,” he says. “He must be after someone else.”
“Neil Josten!” Ricky screams and too late Neil notices that he and Matt are the only other people in sight.
“Oh shit,” Neil says.
“What did you do?” Matt whispers, voice pitched furiously low.
“You better watch it, Josten,” Ricky says, close enough that Neil can see how truly mad he is. He reminds Neil of a bull, nostrils flaring, eyes wide enough to see the ring of white around the iris. Ready to charge. “I’ll fuck you up.”
Neil’s eyes narrow. Ricky is a lot taller than Neil and sure, he’s muscular, but Neil has survived all attempts on his life thus far in his twenty-year old life and he is not about to get taken out by some dumb baseball player who isn’t good enough to play the most important sport in the world, exy.
Slowed by the hangover, his brain doesn’t catch up to his mouth before he shoots back, “I’d like to see you try.”
Ricky seethes, and for a moment he does look like he’s about to charge. Neil braces himself but Matt scoops him up and throws him over his shoulder before Ricky can take even a step closer.
“No he would not!” says Matt over his shoulder as he books it back to the safety of Fox Tower.
Or, it would be safety if Ricky Mercado wasn’t a baseball player, and therefore didn’t have access to the building Matt was currently seeking for refuge. He stayed on their tail, shouting, gesticulating wildly, and occasionally throwing in some uncreative death threats. Neil has heard better and more convincing.
Actually, Neil thought Ricky might be acting out whatever Neil had done to piss him off, but Neil was either too hungover or Ricky too bad an actor for him to really understand what had happened.
They make it back in the building and up the stairs still intact, and soon enough they return to Matt’s suite. The mess is still there, the half-dressed mascot is not, and a new figure stands in the kitchen, surveying the damage. There’s a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and he looks rumpled in the way that spending a few hours on a plane would do to a person. He turns around, face unimpressed and arms folded across his chest.
“Andrew,” Neil says the same moment Matt sags with relief and whispers, “thank God.”
“Boyd,” Andrew acknowledges him. “Why are you carrying Neil over your shoulder?”
“Your boyfriend.” Matt jostles Neil as he says this and Neil wiggles until Matt lets him down. “Almost got us killed. He pissed off one of the baseball players and now he’s hunting us down. Please save us.”
As if on cue, there’s a loud banging on the door and Neil thanks whatever deity above that Matt had thought to lock the door. The person on the other side yells in frustration and begins to slam against the door. Neil is starting to think Andrew had a point when he said Neil has a way of making people want to kill him.
“Hmm,” Andrew says noncommittally and looks around Matt to where Neil is attempting to hide behind his large body, covering his forehead so Andrew doesn’t see the fake eyebrows. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a familiar gray cell phone.
“Oh!” Matt exclaims. “Where did you find it?”
“Nicky. He said he confiscated it last night,” Andrew says, eyes never straying from Neil’s face.
“We got a little drunk last night,” Neil admits, inching toward the door. He thinks death by angry baseball player is preferable to Andrew seeing what he had done to his face.
“That explains these,” says Andrew. He tossed the phone to Neil, opened up to their thread of messages.
It starts off normal, but at around midnight, Neil sent a video of himself dancing on the coffee table while someone off-screen throws popcorn at him. It’s far from what Neil thinks a person drunkenly dancing on the table should look like. The lighting is bad and so is Neil’s dancing, arms thrown in every which way and hips doing a little too much. It appears he’s attempting the macarena with a few added steps.
The second message is from an hour later and reads, would yoi still loveme if I ddni’t have eyebrows :(
So the jig is up.
Neil cringes and drops his hands. Andrew, privileged to have eyebrows fully intact, raises them at the sight of the ginger mustaches stuck to Neil’s face, and reaches up to peel them off. Neil thinks he sees a flash of amusement in his eyes before Andrew lets the mustaches drop to the floor. Neil is too embarrassed to say anything, but Andrew doesn’t notice. He looks around the room before grabbing a disemboweled lamp and weighing it in his hand.
“Get this mess cleaned up,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
Then he leaves, and Matt and Neil stare after him.
“Is he going to – ” Matt starts but Neil interrupts.
“Not important,” he says, waving his hand to get Matt’s attention. “We need trash bags and a vacuum cleaner.”
“And the will of God,” Matt nods as he begins to pick up cans and boxes of candy from the floor.
It takes an hour, three large black trash bags, and some duct tape to get the mess cleaned up. By now Andrew has returned, and is idly watching them from his perch on the arm of the couch. He offers no help, instead he slowly and methodically eats through a pint of ice cream, digging out the chunks of chocolate to eat first. When asked, he does not explain what he did with the lamp.
“You missed a spot,” he says and points to the large orange stain on the carpet with his spoon.
Matt pushes the entertainment center three feet to the right, where it covers the majority of the orange carpet. “No we didn’t,” he replies.
When they’re finished, Matt collapses at the kitchen table over a bowl of cereal and begins to snore. Neil wanders over to Andrew, head ducked to his chest and hood pulled over his eyes. Andrew pulls the hood down, eyes trailing up to the empty spaces where Neil’s eyebrows had been just last night.
“Do you think I can draw them on?” Neil asks. He’s seen Allison touch up her eyebrows with a brow pencil, so he should be able to draw in what he was missing, right?
Andrew huffs and curls his fingers in the collar of Neil’s hoodie. “Idiot,” he says softly, and presses a kiss to Neil’s forehead. Neil melts into his embrace, relieved that the whole fiasco is finally over and he can relax in Andrew’s arms with Andrew’s lips pressed against his.
“I hope you didn’t throw those mustaches away,” Andrew says once he pulls away, and Neil laughs.
“Too late,” he says and decides that he’s never drinking that much alcohol ever again.
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infernalrevenge · 4 years ago
Text
Growing A Garden In My Heart
Fandom: Choices - The Elementalists
Pairing: Atlas Ernhardt x Aster D'Yew, Atlas Ernhardt & M!MC (Vyrion Ramos)
Rating: G
Summary: Atlas' twin helps him deal with new feelings and tries to convince him that having a crush isn't so bad.
Notes: Why yes, I do believe that every ball of angst should be paired with a ray of sunshine. I just think it was cute how they navigated through school together and having a group of friends for the first time, so it might be really cute too to see how they might navigate romantic feelings and a potential relationship. They just both deserve to be happy.
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Ever since Atlas told Vyrion that he may have a small-sorta-maybe-kinda-small-I-dunno crush on a certain wood nymph in their friend group, it has been non-stop teasing at every opportunity. It wasn't like he wanted to tell his twin, but he was basically forced to after being annoyed into submission, and did he ever regret giving into his antics.
He and Aster had formed their own little friendship besides the one they had with the other Pend Pals, becoming study buddies and frequently meeting up during the weekends to either catch up on papers, or just catch up with each other. He found himself comfortable in her company, genuinely enjoying the time they spent together -- just the two of them -- and always looked forward to seeing her. Sometimes, they would even text each other, and the Moon-Att just couldn't help but smile with every new message he got from her.
That behavior was exactly what led to his downfall, when Vyrion caught him red-handed and threatened to steal the device to find out if he didn't fess up himself.
Atlas didn't even know when these feelings blossomed, why he started seeing the girl in a different light. He wasn't even sure if it counted as a crush at all. Was it a crush if he was just excited to see her, or happy to be talking to her? He could feel that way with his other friends (sometimes it was still strange to him that he even had friends in the first place) too, right?
But a part of him knew it was different. It wasn't like his heart raced whenever he was around Zeph, or felt like his body was on fire when Griffin would pat him on the back.
He still remembered that one time he and Aster sat next to each other while hanging out with the rest of the crew, her arm pressed against his, and it felt like a continuous explosion of fireworks went off in his body.
It was just a good thing Vyrion can keep a secret. He hadn't even told his girlfriend about it, and he just knew if Shreya did then either she would join in on the torment or everyone else in the school would know. He wasn't sure what was worse, but there was one thing he did know: Aster was not to find out.
And yet his twin was suggesting he do exactly the opposite.
"What do you mean I should tell her?" Atlas gritted, almost yelling until he realized that the walls weren't exactly enchanted for soundproofing.
"Asking her out on a date is not as bad as you think. Besides, you said you've hung out a bunch of times with just the two of you already. It's not gonna be that different," Vyrion explained, much more calmly in comparison. It was almost funny seeing how the tables had turned, with him as the level-headed one and giving advice this time.
The Moon-Att sighed, "My intentions would be different. I've never... courted a girl before. I've never courted anyone before!"
"But surely you've had crushes before. How did you used to deal with them?"
"...I didn't?"
"Didn't have crushes or didn't deal with them?"
"...both?"
"Oh."
"And it's not like I had the time to even think about those kinds of feelings. I wasn't exactly around other people besides my foster parents growing up, remember?" Atlas huffed, falling back onto his bed. He and Vyrion were supposed to be talking about their upcoming plans for the break, not his non-existent love life.
Still, sometimes he didn't even have to think hard about Aster for her to fill his thoughts. The way she just moves so gracefully without effort, the determination in her eyes from convincing her family that not all Attuned were awful to figuring out a difficult problem in class, the absolute joy on her face on their first day of class after finally being allowed to go to school. She just lit up something in him he couldn't explain, a blooming warmth would fill his chest that he had never felt before.
Those happy thoughts didn't last long, however, when he remembered the reality of the situation.
"She probably won't accept anyway. She doesn't feel that way about me," he said with a weary sigh, eyes glued to the blank ceiling.
"You don't know that," Vyrion replied simply, leaning against Atlas' headboard.
"You don't know that either."
"You're not gonna find out if you're just gonna mope about it though."
"I'll mope as much as I want to. This... This'll go away eventually."
The redhead raised an eyebrow, "It might. But if it doesn't, then what?"
Atlas stayed silent, unsure. Was it possible it wouldn't go away? Was it strange to think that maybe he didn't want it to, and he and Aster could just be together? Just thinking about telling her all of this -- that if she even had an inkling of a notion about how she made him feel -- was enough to twist his stomach into nervous knots, it felt like he was going to throw up.
Why did this feel so much more terrifying than fighting shadow monsters?
(Because he had the training to go against them, and the odds of his victory were almost always on his side. This, however, he was not prepared for at all.)
Vyrion nudged Atlas with his socked foot, making the other jerk away in disgust. "Come on, if she doesn't feel the same way, getting rejected won't be the worst thing in the world." The thought of it still stung Atlas, like a thorn pricking at his heart.
Vyrion continued with his thought, "And Aster's a sweet girl -- she'd still love to be friends with you despite it. You'd be okay with that, right?"
"Of course," he replied without even missing a beat.
"And if it does work out, then that'd be great too, wouldn't it?"
This time, a beat of silence passed between them, and Atlas could only shrug. "I... guess." He had to fight back a smile at the idea of it.
"Besides, with good looks and charms like ours, it's a slim chance that Aster hasn't already fallen for you either." The Sun-Att shoved his foot against his twin's arm again, but this time Atlas grabbed his ankle and practically threw his leg off the bed so his foot hit the ground with a sharp thud. "Ow!"
"This isn't funny."
"What, I meant it! And maybe when you do get together with her, we can go on double dates. Won't that be fun?"
"No."
"Wow, rude."
Atlas tucked his hands under his head, huffing a breath out of his nose. He supposed he could consider his twin's words -- he still wasn't sure if it was all that helpful, but it was better than getting nothing out of it. "But... I dunno, thanks anyway, I guess."
Vyrion smiled, "Anytime, twin o' mine! So, are you gonna ask her out?"
Another bout of silence, then a shrug.
"Knowing you, you'll figure it out." Vyrion patted Atlas' arm, the latter noticing a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Trust me."
As if on cue, the Sun-Att just got a text from Shreya, asking for them to meet. He bid his twin farewell for the meantime, leaving Atlas alone with his thoughts.
Was there something Vyrion knew that he didn't?
.
.
.
(Outside, the Sun-Att replied to his girlfriend's message.
Shreya 🔥❤️: Did you talk to him?
Vyrion ☀️😘: Yeah just give him some time. They'll work it out)
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