#-- want to have to move any stuff to clear a path to the door to get this table outside. There's not enough maneuvering room to move --

[enigmatist17]

I was right in the path of the snowstorm that hit us this week (and another coming this weekend yaaaay), and thought of my boys :)

This is part of the Mecha Pilot AU by @keferon :)

My other AU fics here

---

"RATTY, WHAT IS ALL THIS STUFF?"

Deadlock didn't yell, at least not that Ratchet had ever heard, and he sure as hell never sounded uncertain.

"What're you goin' on about?" The mechanic certainly didn't have some pep in his step as he hurried to his Cybertronian, a wrench gripped in one hand as he headed to the personal bay he'd set up for Deadlock. The door was open, revealing a heavy snowfall that Ratchet had forgotten about, the mech staring at the weather with a glare.

"What is it?!" His plating rattled in slight discomfort as Ratchet raised an optic ridge (no, eyebrow? Eh, he'll ask later) at him, clearly unconcerned by the strange weather. "The sky hasn't done this before."

"That would be because it hasn't gotten cold enough 'til now." The wrench in his hand gets shoved into his toolbelt, and despite the lack of his jacket, Ratchet steps out into the snow with an amused smirk. "See? Safe an' sound." True to his words, Ratchet didn't appear in any pain, aside from a shiver that wracked his frame as the white flakes started to coat him. "It's called snow."

"Why is there snow? It has been cold for days now, your bitching about it has told me that enough." Slowly, the mech reached out to Ratchet, his digit twitching when the first few flakes landed on it, but no warnings popped up in his HUD.

"We didn't have the right temperature for the water vapor in the air to condense, but we do now. I forgot we were even gettin' a storm, which means getting home is going to be a bitch and a half."

"You drive in this stuff?" The Cybertronian asked, letting the curiosity running through his processor bleed through more than he usually would have done. "Is it not dangerous?"

"Well yea, but we've adapted over the years." The human responded as he moved to come in from the snow, Deadlock using his hand as a cover. "Sit here, let me go get my jacket and other boots on."

"Alright." Deadlock watched Ratchet head back inside his shop floor before returning his optics to the snowy landscape in front of him. He had seen something resembling this snow a few times, but it had been through quick pit stops at planets to scavenge shards of energon that left him no time to actually examine the frozen precipitation. It's cold against his servo when Deadlock scoops up a generous helping of the snow, compacting into a vague ball shape when he closes his servo into a fist, remaining solid even after he grabs it with his other servo.

"We call that a snowball." Ratchet had also put on a hat and some servo coverings, crouching to scoop up his own snow. "I'd rather you not throw that one at me, but pick and target and launch."

"Is this snow a weapon?" Now that got his attention, the assassin picked out a random tree and launched the snowball as hard as he could, all of the collected snow on the branches falling off as it connected with a loud thud.

"Not as effective ones, that's for sure." Ratchet snorted, nailing a nearby parked car right in the windshield. "Nah, it's for fun usually, though you're gonna kill me with how hard you threw yours."

"I'd never hurt you Ratty." Deadlock purred, offering his servo with a grin. "I want to see more."

"C'mon, the lake might be frozen over." Ratchet hopped up onto the offered limb, bracing himself against the wind as Deadlock began to venture out into the snowy forest, pausing every so often to look at the snow-covered trees and rocks in interest. "So Cybertron doesn't have snow?"

"Not that I was ever aware of? What we consider organic on Cybertron isn't the same definition for you."

"Fair enough." Ratchet lapsed into silence as Deadlock headed to the lake he had crash-landed next to what felt like a lifetime ago, the mech clearly surprised by the sight when they reached the clearing. "Well?"

"..." Deadlock carefully set his human down before approaching the water's edge, the surface now solid to the touch. "This is...cool."

"Yes it is." Ratchet snorted as he joined the mech, testing the ice with one foot. "Hm, might be strong enough..."

"For what?" The mechanic looked up with an amused look before taking a step forward, Deadlock watching in slight awe as he began to walk on water like he was strolling on normal ground.

"You can't always do this, but sometimes we get lucky. It is pretty cool." He grinned, the alien reaching over to steady him with a digit when Ratchet wobbled slightly. "Thanks."

"As much as I kinda don't like your planet all this much, I could come to like this snow and ice." The assassin purred, using his digit to lazily pull Ratchet around on the ice in a random pattern.

"Not the biggest fan, but I do enjoy the occasional snow day myself." Ratchet shrugged as he did a poor man's version of ice skating, only upright do to his tight hold on Deadlock's digit. "Glad you're enjoying it."

"Only because I'm with you." The look on Ratchet's face made the corny line more than worth it, Deadlock chuckling as he continued pulling the human around on the ice. "How long will it be like this?"

"I don't know, probably a few days. Best enjoy it while we've got it."

"Works for me." Sure, Ratchet can't feel much of his body by the time Deadlock decides he's done enjoying the view, but it wasn't all bad when he's carefully placed inside the mech's warm interior for the trek back. They end up dozing off in Ratchet's workshop when neither of them feels like dealing with what would be a nasty drive to Ratchet's home, the falling snow filtering through the moonlight lulling them both to sleep.

[warping-realities]

Parental Pressure 

Eddie watched the personal trainer's video for the thousandth time as he was getting closer to the little gym for his first class. He had snuck out of his house super early and quietly because he knew Nick, his old man, wouldn’t approve of his son wasting time on this kinda stuff. He became a single father really young, back in high school, and now, at 35, he did everything he could to make sure his kid didn’t follow the same path. Becoming a doctor was Nicholas Rousseau’s biggest dream, but early fatherhood messed up his chance to hit the books at college. Not that he blamed Eddie for it; on the contrary, they usually had a solid relationship, except when Eddie strayed from the plans his dad laid out for his future. If Nick couldn’t get into med school, Eddie sure as hell would, whether he liked it or not. And now, with less than a month before college kicked off, Eddie was having doubts about the path laid out for him. So, in a rebellious move, after getting an invite to check out Rocco “Rocky” Mancini's gym, an Italian bodybuilder who moved to the States, now retired and not exactly a big name in the game, who a few years back started hustling as a personal trainer and, according to the promo video on Eddie's Instagram, was looking for young men to boost his portfolio. It looked like that gig wasn’t going great either. The first person to sign up would get a month of free daily training. Perfect for Eddie; after all, a month of training with an expert before college would make things way easier when he had to hit the gym away from his overprotective dad’s watchful eye. Surprisingly he was the first one to sign up! And so, the young  skinny man, with light brown hair found himself stepping into the dimly lit gym at 6 AM.

As he stood frozen at the door, anxiety washing over him, a monstrous figure approached, strutting with swagger, muscles bulging looking like they might burst from the thin layer of skin wrapping them. With a fuller beard and looking at least five years older than in the video Eddie had seen over and over, the guy oozed confidence and a certain arrogance. But those weren’t the only things he was giving off, as it became clear to Eddie when the dude came up to him with a sweaty hand extended to shake, a distinct animal musk dominating his senses.

“You must be Eddie! Nice to meet ya, kid; I’m Rocco, but you can call me Rocky—everyone does. Welcome to my little temple. So, you ever trained before?”

“Ahn, no... I wanted to, but my dad... no, I’ve never trained.”

“Feeling a little bit of Daddy Issues here? Just kidding, son! Where’s your workout gear?”

“I thought, since it’s the first day... I... didn’t bring any...”

“Damn, son, you weren’t kidding when you said you’ve never trained; you don’t have a clue! But don’t sweat it, we’ll fix that! You can wear the shirt; I’ll get you some shorts.”

“I... don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Son, you came here to train, and train is what you’re gonna do. I don’t know what your pops taught you but it looks like you got a lot to learn from me. First thing, you gotta be more assertive—don’t be scared to say what you think or do what you like.”

Hearing that, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the fear and anxiety that had been eating at him for weeks seemed to fade away. He wanted to be there, and nobody was gonna take that away from him, not even his old man.

After hitting the locker room and putting on the shorts Rocco lent him, which were way too big in the legs but surprisingly just right in the waist, Eddie went back to the main room where the personal trainer was waiting for him.

“We gotta fill those shorts, son!”

“That’s why I’m here, Mr. Mancini.”

“Hell yeah! That’s the spirit but none of this Mr. Mancini nonsense; you either call me Rocky or coach.”

“Yes, sir, coach!”

“That’s right! Now, back to our chat, you said you’ve been training for a while, but how long is a while, son?”

That info was totally wrong; he’d never trained, right? But why did he have fuzzy memories of sneaking out to hit the school gym before class during his senior year? If he hadn’t trained, where did those small but tight muscles come from?

“I’ve been training for almost a year, coach, but I don’t think I’ve seen much result.”

“Two more things to teach you, son: first, we’re never happy with the size we are, and second, even so, you’re never gonna downplay your achievements; you’ve done something that most people can’t even pull off. Be proud of that.”

“I... I’m proud, yeah!” he replied, realizing the coach was speaking the truth. He had a lot of pride in what he accomplished, even though he knew he was still far from where he wanted to be.

“Awesome! Now you’re talking like a real champ. But enough chit-chat, let’s see what you’re made of.” Rocco said before putting Eddie through the most grueling workout he’d ever experienced. His self-taught training hadn’t prepared him for this level of exhaustion. After half an hour of intense agony, they took a break, and Eddie tried to recover before what he knew would be another half hour of torture as Rocco praised him.

“Damn, son, all that fuss you had with your pops to come train with me in your junior year was worth it. You’re huge; another minute and that shirt ain’t gonna hold!”

Still exhausted from the workout, Eddie took a moment to wrap his head around what the trainer had said. A fight with his dad...? And training here for at least three years...? No... it didn’t make sense... but then he saw his own reflection in the gym mirror, and he was... fucking swole! And that... that wasn’t just possible; it was thanks to the time he’d spent caring for his body all this while, even with his dad breathing down his neck.

“Thanks, Coach, but I’m still not anywhere near where I wanna be!”

“Well, if you get closer, this shirt definitely isn’t gonna hold. I’ll grab you one of mine, or you can train shirtless until the other clients show up, son. In the meantime, figure out how to get that thing off, but I doubt it’s coming off without tearing. Maybe you should film a video for your social media; I bet your followers will go wild!”

“Haha, I don’t think that they will care, and I feel kinda uncomfortable putting myself out there. So I’ll take the shirt.” Eddie replied as the coach returned with an enormous shirt in hand and offered it to him.

“Son, there’s no reason to be shy about showing off; you sculpted that body for a reason. Don’t tell me that’s another one of your dad’s ideas? You never cared much about what he thinks, and I’ve known you since you were a little brat, fourteen years old, showing up on opening day to get an autograph!”

Once again, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the cordial relationship he had with his overly protective dad was turning into a conflictual one, with both of them constantly arguing about the expectations they had for Eddie’s future, which drove him to practically live at Rocco’s gym, where he helped with maintenance or took care of the place to keep training without having to pay.

“You’re right, as always, Rocky; it’s just that, I dunno... I think this crowd that needs to post everything they do is kinda empty and vain.”

“Son if you don’t show off your gains, you won’t grow your followers, and so what if it seems kinda empty? What matters is being seen. And nobody builds a body like yours without a bit of vanity. I’ll let you keep training; I’ve got a client in twenty minutes. If you need me for anything, just holler.”

“Rocky, I can train better than a lot of pro bodybuilders, man! You know that!”

“Son there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance! You can strut around all you want with your followers, but don’t come at me with that!” Rocky shot back, though he couldn’t hide a smile of approval.

As the trainer moved away to organize things for his client, Eddie focused on finishing his remaining exercises. Kicking off his sneakers and heading to the squat rack barefoot, he stacked plate after plate until he formed a sizable pile that would surprise anyone. But the truth was, despite the insane weight, it was relatively easy for Eddie. Next, he hit the leg press and finished with deadlifts using a bar that weighed more than a baby rhino. When he sat down to do his last exercise of the day, calves, a distinct funk emanated from his armpits, but mainly from his giant size 14 bare feet. Looking at himself and feeling pumped, he couldn’t resist pulling out his phone to shoot a TikTok video. He was in the middle of recording when Rocky interrupted him.

“Damn, kid, you reek! No offense, we all have a little man funk; I know how it is, but clients are gonna start showing up, so take a shower and let’s get to work.”

“Damn, coach, sometimes you’re worse than my dad.” The kid replied, stopping the recording.

“I am your father, boy!” The older man shot back with a sinister grin and a predatory look at the younger man before continuing. “And if you really wanna please your fans, be a show-off; don’t hide your assets, son; show off that chest and those abs, but hurry up, ‘cause this place is gonna be packed soon. We’re not the biggest gym in town by luck, Wardo. This young stud pose might please your fans, but the morning ladies prefer when you play the part of the innocent bambino.”

This time, the wave of strangeness hit Eddie so hard that he felt dizzy and nauseous, exacerbated by the potent funk he was putting off. And for the first time since he stepped foot in that gym, he fully realized what was going down as he automatically took off his shirt and walked toward one of the gym mirrors, a gym which seemed to expand with every step he took, turning from a small studio into a gigantic complex. As his skin took on an olive tone and his dark brown hair curled into perfect black curls, while his nose turned aquiline like a Roman emperor from antiquity, Eddie struggled within his own mind while Edoardo Mancini took control. If someone could hear the debate between the two, it would sound something like:

“Dude, I am... no, we are what you’ve always wanted to be! Pops gave you this chance; why not embrace it?”

“’Cause I... I’m going to med school...”

“You never wanted that; we never wanted that; that was Nicholas’s thing, not ours. This is our chance to be whoever we wanna be!”

“No... we are what Rocco made us; we’re just trading one controlling dad for another!”

“Not even close, dude! We chose this path; he didn’t pressure us! We followed him out of admiration, and that boosted both his success and ours; we’re legends in the fitness world!”

“Rocco was a mediocre pro... he’s using us for leverage!”

“And what’s wrong with that? We’re getting something out of it too! And how is that different from Nicholas pressuring you?”

“I... I... don’t know...”

“Dude, if you didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be here. Chill and enjoy; besides, Pops already got what he wanted from us. He’s not gonna pressure us to follow in his footsteps. We can be whatever we want: bodybuilders like him, or fitness models, or even kickstart an acting career; and I’m not even talking about porn, even though this big guy between our legs would be a hit. Just accept it.” Wardo said, stroking the giant cock in his mind and in real life.

“I... I... damn... this feels so... fucking... good!”

“Wardo! Wrap it up, kid, and stop playing with that thing; we got a new client coming.” Rocco scolded his son.

“Damn, Pops, another ruined video!”

“You weren’t gonna post that, kid; you wanna get banned from social media?”

“I was just messing around...”

“Kid... you’ve got five minutes to take a shower and get your ass to the front desk.”

“Okay, Dad! Did you hear that, folks? The great Rocco Mancini has spoken, and the good son obeys! I’ll be back with updates soon.” The young man said before stopping the recording.

“I’ll edit it so nothing racy gets out; don’t worry, Dad!”

“Five minutes and counting!” Rocco replied with fake irritation, but in reality, he was puffed up with pride for his son as he headed for the reception, spotting a man in his mid-thirties, wearing glasses and an outfit that screamed he’d never set foot in a gym in his life.

“Good morning, sir; welcome to Rocky's Gym; I’m Rocky Mancini, the owner and head coach. Are you looking for something?”

“Good morning, I’m Nick Rousseau, and I’m actually looking for my son; his phone tracker showed he was here just a few minutes ago before it suddenly stopped working.”

“Tracker? Isn’t that a bit much? Anyway, how old is he and what’s he like? We haven’t had anyone too young around here today, except for my own kid, but if I can help you out…”

“I... I don’t know...”

“You don’t know? What kinda dad doesn’t know how to describe his own kid?”

“I... I...” Nicholas replied, his voice filled with genuine desperation, which made Rocco feel a bit of sympathy, but not enough to stop him from making the next call.

“Hey, Wardo... Wardo!!! Damn kid never listens! Edoardo Mancini!!!!” Rocky yelled while watching Nicholas slightly tremble at the sound of that name.

“What’s up, Pops? I’ll get ready in a sec.” The handsome young man replied as he prepared to flex the powerful muscles that no kid his age could get without maximum dedication, watched by his dad and the other boy.

“Not that, you insubordinate ragazzo! This guy’s looking for his son; has anyone younger shown up today?”

“Nope!” He replied, giving Nicholas a quick glance over the shades he was wearing just for style before turning around and finally heading to the locker room.

“Sorry about that, teenage boys; you know how they are.” Rocco said, smiling at the other man.

“I... know?”

“Didn’t you come looking for your son?”

“Son?? Son... no... I don’t have kids... do I?” Nicholas replied, looking both confused and desperate.

“Are you feeling alright? I’m no doc, but I can try to help.”

“Doc... doctor? No... no need... I’m a doctor.” Nicholas replied with more confidence.

“Seriously? That’s awesome! Doctors are always good clients; they know how to take care of themselves.”

“Client?”

“You didn’t come here to train? We’re in a gym, after all.”

“Of course... I came... to train. You come highly recommended.”

“Modesty aside, it’s because I’m the best. I normally don’t take new clients, but we could use a doctor to evaluate our clients, so we could do a trade; you wouldn’t happen to be a sports doc, would you?”

“No, I…”

“Awesome! Just what I needed! But I can tell you’re already in shape!” Rocco said, grinning. “Let me show you the gym. Normally, this would be Wardo’s job, but the kid’s been so focused on his influencer career that he’s slacking here... between us, I’d rather he be a bodybuilder like me, but I think a dad should respect his kid’s wishes; don’t you think?” Rocco asked, and without waiting for a reply, he continued. “Don’t you wanna have kids? Are you single or married? Dude, if you’re single, I gotta introduce you to my sister; no disrespect to her, ‘cause my mama raised me right, but between us, she’s a total smoke show...” And so he went on while Nicholas followed, not realizing that with every word spoken, his reality was adjusting to the other man’s desires.

Minutes later, Rocco stepped into the locker room bathroom and watched his son recording another video, already showered but still unable to shake off the musk that surrounded him, maybe because he was still wearing the same shorts from his workout. He admired his boy, feeling proud knowing all this was his hard work paying off.

When the young man finished recording, he turned to him.

“Wardo, finish getting dressed and come out here for a minute; I got a surprise for you.”

….

“Hey guys, Wardo Mancini here, and I’ve got some awesome news! You’re probably tired of seeing my pops in my videos, but today, besides him, I wanna introduce you to someone else.” He said, repositioning the camera in the packed gym.

“This handsome fella next to my dad is my doctor, Nic Russo, and on top of that, he’s my uncle, married to my dad’s sister. And now for the biggest news: he’s about to be a dad, and he asked me to be the godfather of his boy! Just think about the genetics of that kid with a dad like this and an uncle like my pops. My uncle says the kid can be whatever he wants, but we all know the iron bug is in our blood, and as far as his godfather is concerned, Rocky Russo is gonna be a champion bodybuilder!”

[mxqdii]

nott into you - m.s

pairings: nott reader x mattheo riddle

summary: reader's brother is theodore nott and develops feelings for his best friend mattheo

warning(s): drinking, brief makeout drugs.

not proofread

FRIDAY:

my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.

it's funny how a week can change everything.

okay! i know this looks really wrong, but i can explain.. let's go back to where this all started, monday.

-1 WEEK PRIOR.-

MONDAY:

i sit in potions, bored as ever at snapes lesson, feeling eyes on me.

i look over seeing mattheo riddle staring, which isn't totally weird, considering we've been friend's since first year, just abnormal.

this time it's different though, like some weird tension in the air, i feel as if red smoke is filling my lungs and calling out mattheo's name.

snapping out of it, i clear my throat and focus my attention onto the horribly boring, lesson

the class ends sooner than later and i take my time to collect my stuff, not noticing mattheo waiting for me.

i head to the door and meet eyes with him

"waiting for me, riddle?" i question and his lips curl upwards

"i might be, walk with me will you?" he asks and i nod, following wherever he's going.

"i noticed you staring" i mumble

"yeah and i noticed you drooling" he says and i scoff

"you think too highly of yourself riddle" i professed

"mmh i'm not so sure about that, have you met your brother?" he adds on and i realize

my brother, shit.

this flirty banter shouldn't even be happening right now, considering if theo saw he would absolutely loose his shit.

"yeah thats theo, uh- anyways i gotta go, nice talking to you riddle!-" i say in a rush, walking the other direction.

TUESDAY:

i hear the door open and look up seeing pansy, i'm currently in the slytherin common room working on some extra homework.

"hey" she says, plopping down next to me

"hey pans whats up?" i ask, putting my books down.

"okay so, i know this is a long shot.. buuuttt, there's a party tomorrow and before you say no just please please think about going!" she says the last part really fast and i laugh

"who's throwing it?" i question and she squints her eyes

"we are..?" she mumbles and my eyes widen

"pansy what!?!" i yell

"okay i know it seems bad, but some first years accidentally heard me saying how slytherin parties are the best and one thing led to another and all of a sudden i had to prove it was true and now everyones expecting a party tomorrow night and i need your help!" she rambles and i sigh

"fine."

later that day, i cross paths with mattheo again.

who cares what my brother thinks or wants for me, it's my life.

"hey mattheo, sorry about yesterday" i say with a smile and he nods

"don't worry about it sweetheart" the name makes my cheeks flush.

we kinda just stand there looking into eachothers eyes for a moment, i'm not sure how it was, but i definitely looked full of lust.

he moves closer to my ear, whispering

"you're drooling again"

i roll my eyes throwing in a, "you wish"

WEDNESDAY:

the party is all set up, and it took HOURS.

me and pansy had to rush right when classes ended to get everything ready

we're supposed to start the party in an hour but before doing that, me and my friendgroup decided to have a little fun

me, pansy, theo, mattheo, draco, enzo and blaise decided to play a friendly game of truth or dare before letting anyone else in.

"y/n" enzo says and i let out a shakey breath, not noticable enough for anybody to hear though.

"yes enzo?" i respond, eyeing him in anticipation

"what'a a dirty secret you've been hiding lately?" he asks and i smirk

maybe i could fuck with these people in a way that wouldn't expose me, but in a way... would?

"well enzo, so glad you asked. recently there has been someone catching my eye... someone who's off limits, someone i'm not allowed to touch, you could call it forbidden, but i prefer the term secrecy." i say with a smug smile, avoiding any and all eye contact with mattheo

before anyone has time to say anything, the clock chimes and the doors to the common room open, the room flooding with people from all different houses.

the rest of the night was kinda a blur, except for the end of it.

i'm too drunk to even function right now, feeling vulnerable and anxious.

god this is why i don't go to parties.

"hey beautiful" a random gryffindor says and i make a face of disgust

"jus' leave me alone" i say in hopes of peace, turning around to walk away, but instead he grabs my wrist.

i turn back to look at him seeing the no-good look on his face

"oh no" i mumble

"are you gonna like.. do bad thing's to me" i ask

i'm never drinking again i feel like an idiot.

"you just consented to it so i might as well huh baby?" he says and i groan.

"i actually have a-" without thinking i grab someones hand, anyone to get me out of this situation would be great

"mattheo?" i say looking up, seeing its him who i grabbed

well, i was going to say boyfriend but mattheo works too.

the gryffindor boy's expression quickly changes from being in control to being scared shitless.

i'm too hazy to even feel right, not paying attention to the bickering mattheo is doing, the way he's absolutely screaming at this boy.

my hand tugs mattheos arm, causing him to look down at me

"mattheo please- just get me out of here" i say, leaning onto his arm.

fuck i'm not supposed to feel like this

THURSDAY:

the last thing i remember, is mattheo dragging me out of that party.

i think he was carrying me? or was it theo? i don't really remember.

i turn over, opening my eyes seeing mattheo next to me

what the fuck.

"g'morning princess" he says and i wince, feeling the light hit my face.

"what time is it?" i ask and see him look over to his bedside table

"like 10" he says and my eyes widen as much as they can.

"it's thursday mattheo we have class!' i yell, attempting to get up

his arm lightly pushes me down

"you need to rest, do you remember what happened last night?" he asks and i shake my head

"you were drugged and you passed out." he mumbles and my eyes widen

"who the fuck drugged me??" i exclaim

"i don't know" he says and i sigh, thinking about last night trying to remember anything i can.

i don't even realize how close me and mattheo are, the way he's shirtless and the way the sun hits his eyes, his morning voice, his soft sheets.

i look down seeing me in his shirt and i quirk an eyebrow which he notices

"no don't worry uh- pansy changed you not me" he reassures and i smile.

the rest of the day we end up just talking and laughing in his dorm, only leaving for food and water.

i gotta admit, it is awfully suspicious me leaving with him last night and waking up in his dorm, now us ditching and spending the whole day together.

but like i said before, i don't care what my brother thinks.

FRIDAY:

i'm currently getting lectured by snape for missing class and i can't help but let my mind wander to mattheo

lately, thats been all my mind is full of.

the tension has been getting thicker and my desire for him has been getting needier.

i need to tell him.

i rush out of snapes lecture as soon as he's finished, rushing to the common room.

what am i even doing, i'm being way too impulsive right now, it's fine i only live once, i have to do this. i tell myself

i reach the common room and run upstairs, knocking on mattheos dorm frantically

he opens the door and i smile, suddenly feeling all of my words leave my mind, going completely blank

then i remembered, i dont need words to tell him what i need.

without thinking, i grab his cheek and kiss him, it definitely caught him by surprise, but it did for me too.

without breaking the kiss, he leads me inside and closes the door, pinning me against it.

my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.

an abrupt knock interrupts us, mattheos hand covering my mouth

"dude come on, snape is pissed you missed class and his lecture, we gotta go" a voice comes from the other side of the door.

fuck, it's my brother.

a/n: let me know if u guys want a part 2<3

[d0rianw1lde]

Yes, Steve’s currently three cars behind Eddie’s van, following him down a long stretch of dark road on a Friday night. But he swears, it’s for a good reason!

Because what could possibly be the reason that Eddie could never answer his phone on Friday nights? Why they could never be together Friday nights? Why he always seemed so elusive when answering Steve’s questions to him. “Can’t. ‘M just busy.”

“Busy doing what?” Steve would ask.

“Stuff.”

Stuff. Right. Steve’s got the wheel in a white-knuckle grip as they travel down past the city. His heart spikes each time a billboard pops up for a club, or adult stores, or even the closest gas station. Because anything could be true in this moment- any fear Steve has for Eddie’s true intentions could come true in just a few moments.

Eddie’s van finally exits the highway, and Steve tails behind, a bit confused when he zips past the busy city and travels farther, hopping onto a dirt road with a winding path. Further, and further still, until they approach-

A barn? Eddie’s van nestles at the end of a long stretch of cars in the parking lot, and Steve watches as he hops out, a new swagger in his step as he rests his hand on his cuff belt buckle and approaches the doors. He slips in, and with Steve’s coast finally clear, he parks. He waits for a few moments, tapping nervously against the wheel. He takes a deep breath, prepares himself, and makes his way toward the doors.

God, there could be anything behind there- what if the town was right all along, and Eddie had been the leader of some massive cult, and he’s fallen for the trap? What if this was a weird sex thing, and he’d secretly been hooking up with tons of people all at once in a ..barn. Or something.

But Steve can feel a thumping from the ground- melodic, rhythmic. Music is blaring inside.

Music?

He approaches the door, presses against it, and swings it open.

Well, Steve didn’t truly know what he expected to find that night. He expected a bombshell piece of information, and a blowout fight, maybe. Maybe expected to find betrayal laid out at his feet after hours of driving,

But this? This wasn’t on the list.

In a million years, Steve would have never guessed that behind this door was Eddie ‘Metal Forever’ Munson, situated in the center of a large dance floor among a crowd of people dressed in various hues of flannel and tacky cowboy boots, moving in time with the loudest country music Steve’s ever had the (dis?)pleasure of hearing.

And never in a million years did Steve consider that this image could be hot.

Because there, moving in time to a song Steve couldn’t even really begin to point out, in a cropped motorhead muscle-tee, the best-fitting jeans Steve had ever seen, and his damn bandana hanging out of his back pocket was his boyfriend, smiling as he danced alongside a few older women, who both take a moment to appreciate Eddie’s assets.

And he knows every move- god, how long had he been doing this? Steve has to remind himself to shut his mouth and hide before Eddie could see him, but when the patrons all make their quarter turn, they’re all facing Steve, and Eddie’s eyes dart to meet his. There’s a moment of surprise written across his face, before he eventually smugly smiles and throws Steve a wink, giving him a good show as he digs his heel into the dancefloor, spins, and makes sure to slow it down just a tad to give Steve the show he so eagerly came to see.

And Steve wants to leave- he turns on his own heel to quickly exit the barn, but he’s stopped as he goes to push against the door by a hand grabbing his wrists, the familiar cold rings soothing his nerves for a moment before he realizes he’s been caught. Red handed.

“Nuh uh-“ Eddie says, spinning Steve around. “No, you wanna spy? Now you gotta dance.”

[hidtired]

Unfortunate Timing [Part 3]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

5.4k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, sexually themes, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

It was clear Daryl was near a breaking point. With the unsafe camp and your near death experience mixed with his missing brother you couldn't blame him. You knew he didn't have a healthy way of processing emotions. So he was on a war path this morning. You knew the only way he dealt with big emotions was through angry. He of course never directed it at you. In fact while you had laid next to him in the morning he was proud that you handled yourself. He was contemplating most of the time staring off to the top of the tent. You thought he was still stressing himself in that already anxious head of his. But after he told you he was proud you saw that maybe he was just enjoying the fact you were in his arms and not dead.

It was when you all decided to go to the CDC and you were sitting in Daryl's truck that you said something that made him feel the true weight of his responsibility. "I'll follow you." He looked over to you before turning his attention to the caravan in front of him. He was confused but you went on, "Any choice and decision. I'll stand with you unquestioned, my life and are child's is under your protection." His heart slowly dropped into the pit of his stomach.

Worry and a sense of responsibility he's never had before felt crushing. But another feeling he didn't expect sat within him. To be wanted and trusted in such a way burned his heart into a fire. He was determined. He was already willing to give his life for you and his... his kid. It was something he didn't question. You inhaled deeply before speaking again,

"Don't you dare think that gives you permission to go and die on me... I can't do this without you."

He slowly slid one of his hands off the wheel and into your own. He brushed his thumb back and forth, "As long as m' still breathin' so will you." You smiled at the implication, moving your other hand to rest on the hand he had on you. He wants to stay alive to make sure you'll both be ok. You nodded in thought, "Then you agree that your life also rests under my protection?" He turned to you with a lifted brow, his face giving a 'really' expression. He didn't like the thought of you risking your life for him but, he guess he understands you don't like the fact he would do the same. Being cared for was something he never got, until you. He watched as your hand move to rest on your stomach. Now that is something both of you would protect together. He bites his lip knowing you started this conversation to make him realize this wasn’t all on him. His eyes move to the road watching the RV roll to a stop.

The honking sound telling them the RV must have died just like Dale said it would. It had but also Jim just couldn’t take it anymore. You’ve never been around someone who’s been bitten before. So to see how it was killing him was gut wrenching. He seemed at peace with it. Sitting in the wind under a tree. You and quickly stated a ‘rest as well’ before excusing your way back to Daryl’s truck. You were bound to get emotional over it and didn’t want to be a wreck in front of everyone. You had reached the door of the truck, tears streaming down your face. Something felt like this would be something that often happened… losing people.

You manage to pull yourself together before Daryl got back to the truck. The ride on the road made you drift asleep. You were in a weird position crumpled into the door with an arm thrown over your head. Daryl found it funny but not before questioning how you could possibly find it comfortable. He knows you are always tired nowadays and he worry's its due to a lack of nutrition. But he lets you sleep only waking you a few miles away from the CDC. You stretch from your odd position. A crack releasing from your neck with a sigh of relief. You rub your eyes looking around. Daryl almost spoke quietly close to a whisper, “We are close, wanted ta’ make sure you were fully awake in case we have to run.”

You hum still stretching a hand moving to your breast. They have been irritating you recently. One of the many wonders of pregnancy. Daryl had caught you with a displeased look on your face. He gave you a questioning look with a smirk, “They look bigger…” You look to him with shock and then back down. He childishly snickered as you swatted at him. You tilt your head while still looking down, “Are they really?” He gave a mischievous smirk causing you to roll your eyes. You had not thought that maybe you would have to get a bigger bra. Not that you could just go buy one anymore. The playful mood in the car would soon turn sour at the arrival of the CDC. Empty, bodys lay scattered and not a soul to be seen.

Standing at the closed doors hoping for the safety it once thought it provided. It almost seemed fleeting until Rick noticed a camera move. Daryl was hearing none of it. He was mad at the decision made and him going alone with it. Your safety now compromised because he didn’t make the right call. Even just after your admission to trusting him he felt like a dumbass. He pulled you to him and felt one of your arms pull around him. The grip you held onto him telling him of your fear. Just before he could try and pull you away to safety, back to the truck, a bright light came pouring out of the newly open door.

One lone man sat in the whole building. You thought it was strange and somewhat eerie. But he did offer assistance so he couldn’t be that bad. A few of the group ran back to collect some things. Daryl gave you that look of, ‘please don’t’ so you understood he would get your things. The price of entry was a blood test. This doctor wanting to make sure none were infected. Which was fair but god did you not like getting blood drawn. Shots you are fine with but having your blood taking from your body disgusted you for some odd reason. Blood itself was not the issue. The thought of having your blood taken still rolled into your mind, a thing that made your heart race. You went after Daryl but he stood next to you waiting for you to finish. The man you now know as Dr Jenner started the process. You caught his eyes flick to your stomach.

He seemed to maybe suspect something but you were at that stage in pregnancy where someone might not speak on it, just in case you weren’t pregnant they didn’t want to call you fat. When he placed the needle in your arm you quickly moved your eyes anywhere else. Heart racing with discomfort. Your eyes focusing on Daryl which he didn’t like the plain fear he could see on your face. You seemed to ease out after it was over, but trying to stand your vision spin. Daryl managed to keep your balance for you. It wasn’t until Jacqui almost collapsed that the doctor learned that you all were a little undernourished. So now here you all are going down an elevator at the promise of food.

It was cramped going down farther than you thought. Daryl getting you out of your thoughts by pressing you back into him. I’m sure he saw your body rigid. But he didn’t really, he moved you into him subconsciously. Eyein the new person trying to determine whether he was a threat or not. The gun slung around him not really helping in his case, “Doctors always packing heat like that?” His awkward response eased him no less. You however at the mention of spaghetti threw caution to the wind. Following the group in a small hallway Daryl right behind you. He saw your happy bouncing at the promise of a carb filled meal. Most of your complaints to him in your pregnancy was the cravings driving you mad. Saying something along the lines of ‘when undead situation is handled your getting me any food I ask for no matter the time!’ Another thing to get you excited was the doctor mention a hot shower.

You smiled at him giddily practically dragging him off to a room. He dropped both of there bags by the door and just watched you be happy. You popped in the bathroom while struggling to kick off your pants in a hurry. Daryl chuckled, ‘Slow down would ya, thought you wanted to eat.’ He could hear you ruffle with your clothes still. Your voice echoed in the bathroom out to where he sat himself down, “There still time while their making it!” He leaned back smiling to himself at your antics. The light through the door got dimmer causing him to look up. You stood in your underwear and bra, hands behind your back trying to unclip it. You gave him a look he hasn’t seen for a while, “Well you just going to sit there or join me?”

He was stunned for a second. He leaned forward looking dumbfounded for some reason. You tilted your head to the side slowly turning back to start the shower. He was stood now hesitating for a second before slowly approaching, maybe it was the fact you both haven’t done anything for a while, mostly due to lack of privacy and him always off around the camp. Perhaps the stress still swarming around him from this place. Despite that he wasn't going to give up this opportunity so he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself. He saw you finally manage to get free of all your clothes. He started to unbutton his shirt when he saw you looking in the mirror at your belly. The first you are probably seeing it in a reflection. Your eyes swirling with thought but soon landed on him with a smile.

You then elected yourself to help him with getting his closes off because he was to slow. You replaced his hands with yours and started undoing the remaining buttons. He smiled down at you, "I don't know, last time we showered together we broke your curtain." He got you to laugh at the memory and you gave your own snarky remark, "Well, if you slip this time try not to take me down with you again." He cringed remembering how he landed with you on top of him. Merle had made a comment about the huge bruise he had on is back, how 'you must have gotten your ass kicked!’ He just ignored him not wanting to say he fell while having shower sex. Releasing the thought he then realized you said 'again'. As be pushed his shirt off while you started on his jeans he gave you a smirk you yourself hadn't seen in a while, "Again huh?"

You smile bashfully back to him, "I'm a hormonal mess, and I can't say that you having been looking extra hot as of late." He scoffed thinking you were kidding. But then you looked up at him seriously causing him to mumble and small... "oh." He smiled raising his hand to move your hair off your shoulder. He pushed it away from your face while you undid the clasp to his jeans. Your hair was noticeably longer since the beginning of this shit show. Finally freeing him of his clothes you bounced back over to the shower. He rolls his eyes and follows you knowing you ran to be under the water before him.

He watched as water ran down you and it sparked a sudden calm from him. To see you doing something that used to be so normal felt crushing. He walks up behind you wrapping his arm around your waist. He knows he hasn’t been exactly himself lately but here he is holding the soon to be mother of his child. He just hopes that you know that even if he has never said it out loud, he loves you. You knew it perfectly well while enjoying the warm water of the shower and him leaning into you. You had thought maybe you both would take this chance to clean yourselves in a shower for the first time in months but his hands were telling you something else.

He was leant forward kissing you down your neck. Causing you to sigh and lean back tilting your head to the side. His hands moving across your body causing you to giggle. You turned around looping your arms around his neck and seeing him smirking down at you. Months of not having a proper shower only to not use the time for one to actually clean yourself. Instead it was spent with a man seemingly remembering how much he wanted to touch you. Back at the camp he was unwilling to throw you around to teach you self defense. It wasn’t until you were pushed back to the wall of the shower in a flurry of harsh kisses did he seem to freeze. He was a gentle lover but could have times where he got excited and went a little rougher then normal. Which you never had any complaints with but in this moment of pause he was a little unwilling to do what he would have. For example again, your shower curtain. Ya not really a great thing for when your prego.

He was pleased with himself by the end of there shower. Like all the bruting was because he was sexually frustrated. Maybe you should have made an effort sooner if you knew he would be walking away with such a pep in his step. Granted you remember why you haven’t done much because if you thought you were tired before, then you were sure to look like you were in a daze. Maybe that look another factor to Daryl walking around so prideful. You would be lying if you haven’t been wanting to jump him for the last month. So maybe you were a little sedated. You wrap your hair up into a towel after getting everything but pants on. You sat there thinking while just holding them about to go on. Lost in space at something Daryl grunted into your ear a few moments ago. The thought sparking a nice warm fuzzy feeling.

‘M’ baby is the one you got in yeah. M’ girl with my baby~’

Daryl watched you sit there with one pant leg in while you stared at a spot in the carpet with your mouth slightly open. Thoughts clear as day, “You done drooling over there? Or you want’n to see if foods done?” Your mouth snapped closed as you took a moment to process what he had just said. Then you proceeded to jump into your pants while jumping to the door. To think he had made you forget about the food inflated his ego he got going. He followed you taking the towel out of your hair and opening the door while you shuffled forward looking down to clasp your pant button.

This was not only a big meal but big morale boost. Stepping into the kitchen to take a seat at the table you waste no time digging into the spaghetti before you. A blessing for a craving you’ve had. One point alcohol was being passed around the doctor took clear notice of you not drinking any or being offered any. You were too busy trying to convince Daryl to just drink already. All those times at the bar he always used the excuse of having to drive home. So you’ve never seen him drunk because and I quote, “I’m a mean drunk… don’t wanna do that to ya.” But you incurred him to let loose because this was probably the only time he would be able to for a long time,

“Come on hun! Drink because I can’t!”

He had definitely eased since the shower so he finally caved and excepted this opportunity. He still didn’t want to get to drunk but he wouldn’t mind being a little tipsy. The fun antics going on in the room was swiftly crushed by Shane. You sat uncomfortably as Shane pushed Dr. Jenner for answers, “So when are you gonna tell us what the Hell happened here, Doc?” His random aggressive outburst caused the room to fill with awkward silence. Rick cutting in saying what everyone else thought, “Come on man, not now.” Shane snapped to Rick, “It’s why we’re here right! This was your call. I want to know why we came here to just one man, why?” Shane’s words to Rick sending red flags in your mind. Then the depressing story of what happened at the CDC dragged the once happy mood back to reality. Felt by all if Glenn stating, “Your such a mood killer dude.’ to Shane didn’t say it all.

It was eased back into a happier state with a pouting Shane in his corner of shame. You payed no mind to it anymore. Daryl was acting more like himself while getting himself and Glenn drunk. Daryl was having to much fun getting Glenn to drink that he himself had way more then he was wanting. It was fun to watch him stumble while he tried to stand. Your laughing getting his attention causing him to point a finger at you, “I don’t wanna hear it from you “miss tipsy”.” The nickname making you giggle. After a while he leaned over the back of your chair as you talked to Dale. He didn’t even put his arms around you just laid them out over your shoulders. He wanted to go, a nonverbal action you have learned he did. So you excused yourself wishing everyone a goodnight. Daryl had an arm over your shoulder while you walked down the hall. “You drunk off your ass?” He sighed leaning into you more, “More than I would have liked to be.” He sure walked like he was.

“Let’s get ready for bed then.”

The room you had claimed had a small couch and cot. Daryl had already started to wrestle with his shirt before you had the door open. Now shirtless he sat down and leaned back slumped. You snicker to yourself while going to take your damp hair up out of your face. He sat there watching you before saying, “Your so pretty.” He was still slumped with his head tilted to the side looking at you. You walked over to him and he held is hands out for you to come sit on his lap. But you grabbed his hands and looked down at him, “Come lay down with me.” You pulled at his arms before he got up and trapped you against him. He shuffled back until flopping on the bed with you. You were lying on your side with him behind you. His hands moving under your shirt onto your baby belly. He curled into you from behind tucking his head down into your neck. You heard him mumbling but couldn’t understand him. But you caught a bit of it to put in context.

“-lucky. I made my pretty girl a mama.”

You smile at his drunk rambling. Reaching to his hands to your stomach and lightly drifting your nails up and down his arms. So much for being a ‘mean drunk’. Then he started on another tangent but this time lifting his face for you to hear him “An I only thought love was something that you would either kill for or die for. But for you? I’d live for. You’re something to live for.” His hands move across your stomach and he whispered, “You both.” Your heart raced at this, you would classify that as a confession. He has never said verbally ‘I love you’ but this in so many words was just that. He damn near was about to make you cry. But instead you shuffled back into him feeling that he was so relaxed he might have fallen asleep already in your silence. That didn’t stop you from whispering back to him.

“I’ll live for you too.”

That morning started with a hungover and grumpy Daryl. You were also grumpy. Daryl had thrown up earlier that morning and that got you to throw up. Now your stomach felt like a loop of acid reflux. You elected to stay in bed because you also were experiencing vertigo, so maybe Daryl wasn’t the only reason you threw up. You may have gone to make sure he was ok but the spinning feeling and noises he was making set you off. Daryl was off to the kitchen to get you a plate of breakfast. When he came back to the room he laughed telling you how fucked up Glenn looked, “He is swearing off alcohol, so may have over did it with him.” You smile at him while you sit in bed eating the food he brought back.

He then paused before he started biting his nails, “Hope I didn’t cause you trouble while drunk…” You chuckle shaking your head still chewing. Swallowing you looked up to where he now leaned on the wall, “Oh please, ‘mean drunk’ my ass! You were just being a sweetie!” Now you were teasing him about it, “After all I’m so pretty remember?” He looked relieved but also grunted before move for the door, “Doc gonna show us something. I’ll tell you about it when I get back.” You hummed in agreement going back to eating. Sitting up you felt like you were on a boat, so dealing with whatever Jenner was going to nerd out about wasn’t worth getting up for. Before Daryl went out the door he called out from behind him, “Be right back, ‘pretty girl’.”

Now even 20 minutes later did Daryl walk back in with a broken look. He sat down on the bed near you and stared at the wall. You would wait for him to gather his thoughts. Something bad happened, or he learned something he didn’t want to either way it didn’t look good. He moved to sit with you on the bed against the wall. He slowly put a hand on your stomach, “Everything’s gone.” You link your fingers with his and lean onto his shoulder. He went on, “It’s lookin like these dead assholes aren’t going anywhere.” You clench your teeth at the thought. You understood what he was saying. If the world was to ever be fixed, it wouldn’t happen in a long time. So your fantasy of a hospital could be kissed goodbye. You had a foolish hope that eased the fear for your child… and yourself. Childbirth before technology had a high fatality rate, for mom and baby.

So your brain was on overdrive after the rug was pulled out from you. Daryl had leant his head on top of yours which got a small sniff out of you. His arm now going to pull you into his side. You struggled with not bursting into tears while asking him something, “We’ll be ok, right?” He turned to you wiping away a tear that slipped out, “We got this.” He explained to you more what he found out. Like the scan of how the infection killed the host then took over the body. Relieving a fear that these people were conscious while doing this. They weren’t people so that made it easier to justify killing them. You both sat there talking until the air flow seemed to still. Daryl perked up feeling uneasy. Then people started to gather into the halls also noticing the lack of air flow.

Daryl had stood behind you in the door way but when Dr. Jenner walked by ignoring peoples questions, Daryl pushed past you slinging words his way in worry now. You followed behind the growing group of worried people. Stepping into a very open panel room with a red clock on the wall. The group stood in the middle when Jenner finally started to explain, “The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It’s designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule.” You look over to the clock that was counting down.

A wave of uneasiness fell over you. You move closer to Daryl while he started yelling to the Doctor, “Air seems pretty ‘essential’ to me!” He took notice of your closer proximity and how you looked around cautiously. Jenner pauses at the steps that lead up to the work stations in the big room. Everyone has followed and is grouped around. Everyone turned to Jenner for answers. "It was the French." Andrea clicked her tounge at him, "What?" Jenner sighed sitting down in a chair at a computer, "They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution." Jacqui now voicing her confusion, "What happened?" Jenner turned to her, "The same thing that’s happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel.  I mean, how stupid is that?" Shane was about to start but was cut off by Rick, "To Hell with it, Shane. I don’t even care. Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We’re getting out of here now!" But before anyone could move a alarm started. Carl said with a nervous tone, "What is that?" A voice spoke through the speakers,

‘30 minutes to decontamination.’

You were now grabbing Daryl's arm in fear causing Daryl to speak up, "Doc what's going on here!" Jenner scans his badge and enters code into a security pad. Rick yelled turning to everyone, "Get your stuff and lets go! Go!" Then the doors all started to closed. Glenn yelled in anger, "No. Did he just lock us in!? He locked us in!" The kids started to cry in panic to there moms. Daryl makes a run at Jenner, "You son of a bitch!" Rick grab Daryl while yelling for Shane to help him. You sat there in shock with a hand over your mouth. Daryl continued to yell while being restrained, "You locked us in here!" T-Dog now joining in to stop Daryl, "No, stop! Don’t!" When Daryl was pushed back he made his was back to you and pulled you into him at the sight of your eyes becoming glassy. Rick now spoke to Jenner, "Open the doors." Jenner sat there calm, "There’s no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed." Dale now taking the chance to speak, "Then just open the damn things." Jenner just shook his head.

You saw Rick stare at the clock that was now 28 minutes. You watched as he slowly turned to Jenner, "What happens after 28 minutes...?" Jenner sat up straighter, “In the event of a catastrophic power failure... in a terrorist attack, for example... H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out.” Rick shuffled from foot to foot in concern, “H.I.T.s?” Jenner sighed putting his hands on his hips, “Vi define.” A robotic voice of a women filled the room through speakers, “H.I.T.s - high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consists of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen between 5,000 and 6,000 degrees and is used when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired.”

Everyone was stunned. Jenner speaking immediately after Vi, “It sets the air on fire. No pain. An end to sorrow, grief... Regret. Everything.” He said it like this somehow made everything better?! You felt Daryl squeeze you and you held him back. This crazy prick was going to kill you all! You felt the deep vibration in Daryl's chest as he roughly spoke, "Open the door." T-dog used the axe he had to start hitting the door, Daryl went to try and open the door to. Jenner just look defeated, "You should’ve left well enough alone it would have been so much easier." Lori now spoke up while holding her panicked son, "Easier for who." You felt that sinking feeling again. Jenner's voice fading out in the back at you felt blood rush your ears. 'All of you. You know what’s out there. A short brutal life and an agonizing death.' Memories of your aunt killed, being near the edge of the water and almost getting killed by two walkers. You moved your hand to your stomach. You had just talked to Daryl about the future. Asking if now in the changed world could you be enough for this child. Sound of Daryl's voice bring you back from thought, "BUT YOUR HEAD ANI'T!"

He was pulled back before being able to hit Dr. Jenner with the axe in his hand. Jenner once again not fazed and he turned to you, "What do you not get by everything is GONE! There is no world for that baby of yours." Daryl again tried to get to him but was held back by four people. You looked down with tears in your eyes, but also anger burned in you. Taking two steps closer to him you quickly punched him in the face. Everyone gasped in surprise but you continued by grabbing him by his lab coat collar. "That is not your choice to make for me!" Rick had gently grabbed you by the shoulder pushing you back. Rick now with hands on his hips spoke calmly to Jenner, "She's right. You’re lying about no hope. If that were true, you’d have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn’t. You chose the hard path. Why?" He huffed, "It doesn't matter."

"It does matter. It always matters. You stayed when others ran. Why?"

Jenner looked down in thought, "Not because I wanted to. I made a promise." He looks back up and points to the screen, "To her. My wife." Lori glanced to the screen, "Test subject 19 was your wife?" Jenner slowly nods, "She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?" Something felt like it was shifting. The clock was now ticking closer to its end. You had pushed everyone off Daryl while Rick spoke. You replaced everyone's hands on him by wrapping your arms around his middle, leaning into his chest. "I told you topside’s locked down. I can’t open those." Jenner walks back to the security pad and unlocks the door. Daryl went straight to action grabbing your hand and pushing you to the exit, "Move it! Move it!" You heard others feet behind you. Making your way down the hall you swiftly grabbed all your bags. In the lobby there was another problem of getting out again. T-dog and Daryl tried breaking the window with axes but it was bullet proof. Some how Carol had a grenade she found off Rick. Taking cover the window exploded, finally freeing you of this ticking time bomb.

Everyone rushed out killing the walkers who took interest in the noise. You made it to Daryl's truck with Daryl opening the door for you while jumping in himself. He leaned over you seconds later a wave of heat rushed over you. The explosion was loud and shook the truck. Once Daryl rose off you, you looked up to the now demolished building. You and Daryl then looking back to each other, tears filled your eyes while staring into his. You sobbed in relief, adrenalin slowly leaving your body causing you to shake. Daryl moved to hold you while breathing a sigh of relief himself, "See? We're ok." You sniffle while Daryl start moving to drive away from this walker magnet of a building.

This was now officially the end of the world.

Part 4

Feedback welcome and requests open! (Next chapter is so much angst mahaha)

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[trashland-llamas]

Mother-Hen

x gender neutral! reader

Reader who has those over the top mother-hen vibes colliding with the grumpy asshole that is Logan Howlett. Who at first avoids Reader like the plague. Growling out how he wants nothing to do with them. To which they don't take any of it to heart, having done this dance a dozen times over.

Seeing it for it was. He didn't want anyone to get close as it meant caring and if he cared about someone, it could then be used against him. And that was simply more unnecessary heartbreak to drown in a bottle of whiskey over. Oh, but it doesn't stop Reader from bulldozing that down.

It all starts when Logan brings a relatively new mutant down to their room instead of the infirmary after a group mission. 'Scared of hospitals and the like. You were the next best thing,' he gruffs out. Seeing the extent of the injuries from how torn up the mutant's clothes are, Reader clears the table, grabbing their first aid kit. Logan laid them down.

Watching from the sidelines as Reader prepares a needle and thread, stitching the mutant's skin together. 'Your turn,' Reader wets a rag to get rid of the dried blood around Logan's already healed wounds. 'I can do that myself.' Too tired to fight against it altogether, Logan takes the rag. 'Thank you, now go. I'll watch over the kiddo.' Their foot now in the door. Letting him leave to the shadows.

The next time they cross paths is late at night when Logan’s abruptly awoken by a nightmare. Deciding to go take a ride on his motorbike when he smells spices in the air. His nose leads him to the kitchen where he sees Reader cooking up a large pot of soup. Their hair tied up into a lump, resting on the nape of their neck. Sleeves rolled up as they chopped vegetables and chicken to go into the broth. The sick season was close upon them.

'Why are you still up, cooking soup?' Logan spoke up after leaning against the wall, his tone accusatory. 'Because of how often everyone forgets to eat. Plus sometimes after missions, it's nice to have something you can just heat up.' Reader answers, watching out of the corner of their eyes as Logan sits down.

'Not to pry, but what's keeping you up?' They had always thought he had a weariness to his bones, outside of the added adamantium. ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ comes his short reply. Not really wanting to talk about it. ‘Touchy subject, got it. Well, you can stay if you like and I can dish you out a bowl when it’s ready. Need someone as a taste tester anyways.’

Logan doesn't respond but ultimately stays, the coziness of the kitchen was better than how he'd feel, standing alone, under the stars. Genuinely desiring company for once; Reader's company.

'Here you go,' pushing a bowl towards him. 'Thanks,' not bothering to blow on the still hot soup. Reader nods, going back to packaging the soup in deli containers. Moving stuff in the fridge around to make room. Logan, after finishing his bowl, takes up the mantle of cleaning the dishes.

Waving away Reader's 'oh, you don't have to do that.' Saying that he wanted to. That and his calloused hands were accustomed to manual labor. It was the least he could do in exchange for some well cooked food, as shown by the grin on his face.

Logan realizes they’ve wormed their way into his heart when he finds them passed out cold on the couch in the common room. Chuffed that at the very least, Reader seemed to have been taking a moment of relaxation for themselves. The battered old tome he had lent to them had fallen to the ground mid-reading.

Their neck at an awkward angle that would definitely hurt in the morning. ‘Really got yourself into a pickle here.’ Taking a minute to argue with himself, running the pros and cons of what he was about to do. Cause yes, he could simply toss a blanket over them and call it a day yet his gut was telling him that wasn’t enough.

‘C’mon, wake up bubs.’ Jostling them by the shoulders, helping them up to a standing position as they’re still half asleep and groggy. ‘Logan?’ Hands guiding them by the shoulders. ‘Yea, it’s me.’

Not realizing in their state that Logan was guiding them towards his room and not theirs. That is until they see all the Americana type decor. ‘What are we doing in your room?’

‘Was closer���the common room’s no place to get sleep with all the busybodies trudging in and out. That and your neck looked like it was killing you.’ Explaining like it was obvious. Sitting on his usual side of the bed, Logan held up the duvet. A silent way of telling Reader to get in.

Too tired to argue with how homy the atmosphere is, they oblige. Climbing over to rest their head on Logan’s chest. His heartbeat easily lulls them back to sleep.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 14

Main Themes: V̷̨͈̘̻̂i̴̗̯̅͒l̸̳̾l̶̲̣͈̉̎͊ä̷̧̭̫̘ḯ̵̜̯̬̜͚̓̀̽n̶̛͚̦̯̈́̄̍͜ ̴͎̭͎̄͜Ś̶̲͆̈́̋ạ̵̢̉ń̵̨̘̲̫̮̎j̶̻̮̝̳̐̊͑͠͝ͅǐ̴̝̱, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

All eyes fell on Sanji as the trio are led inside and through the city, escorted by Wyper and a handful of the God's Guards. Normally, entering any form of settlement involves the occasional parade that his people would arrange for him in countries that allied to Germa. For those that aren't, he wears a hood to cover himself with for a discreet way in. This was different. It was the middle of the day and he was in chains with no way to protect his identity.

The frightened citizens whisper suspiciously among each other. Those who are along the stone path part way for them, while some hurriedly carry their young ones inside their houses and lock their doors and windows behind them. From an outsider's perspective, it looks like he'd been arrested and is sent on a humiliating march through the city. Sanji felt exposed and vulnerable. He considers turning around while the exit is closeby.

The weight and the cold temperature of the chains doesn't help. He feels the urge to tear the bloody things off his wrist, and hopes to get their business with Gan Fall out of the way so they can leave and take the restraints off him as soon as possible.

A wave of uneasy pain surges through his body as he sees a flash of Doflamingo's wide grin appear in front of him again. He resists the instinct to flee and focuses on the sensations of his feet, placing one foot forwards one step at a time. Not wanting to be alone, he steels his heart and commits. He tries to keep calm and stay emotionless, knowing that his every move is being watched behind the citizens’ judgemental eyes.

Wyper glances next to him and notices his discomfort. He clears his throat to get his attention.

Wyper 

It's not a long walk to see God. I've sent word ahead to get a place ready for you lot to sleep in–if you're staying for the festival.

Sanji curiously blinks at him, feeling relieved and comforted at the hospitality being offered to them.

Sanji

Thanks, but that's not up to me. Run it through with Trafalgar Law.

Wyper 

Aren't you in charge? Being Pirate King and all.

Sanji mildly chuckles.

Sanji

That title doesn't mean shit to me. I'm just trying to help out a friend.

Wyper raises a brow.

Wyper

Aren't you trying to recruit pirates under your rule to wage war against the Celestial Dragons and take over the world?

Sanji

Now that's an idea. But where the hell did you hear that from?

Wyper 

The papers.

Sanji

The pa–?! Okay, first off, don't believe everything you read from that. I think Morgans hate me for not signing off the rights to use our image to make his silly comics.

Wyper

Morgans?

Sanji

Have you not heard his name? He's in charge of printing out that poor excuse of a newspaper.

Wyper shrugs, looking unbothered.

Wyper 

Don't care about who runs it. We just need the information to know what's going on around the world.

Sanji

You should very much care! You said that I'm not bad in real life–your words, not mine! What does that tell you about the stuff you read?

Wyper 

That you're a sneaky bastard, probably.

Sanji gasps sarcastically and throws his hands to cover his mouth.

Sanji

You might have just figured me out, Wyper of the God's Guards.

The warrior lets out a small lighthearted chuckle, feeling a bit proud of himself. After a brief pause, Wyper speaks.

Wyper

Hey uh…what’s a “comics”?

They proceed to discuss the topic of entertainment and other content in the WENP for the next five minutes of their walk. Zoro notices their banter from a short distance behind them, walking alongside the doctor who's quietly paying attention to their surroundings.

Then he sees it–that big stupid smile that Sanji brings out that he loves so much. The blonde laughs at something that Wyper had told him, making Zoro scowl. Watching the two of them get along should bring him some comfort that his friends are getting along, but for some reason, this interaction makes him want to hurl the warrior over the valley of the city so he can take his place.

Law

Interesting…

Zoro

Tch.

The swordsman grumpily crosses his arms and tears his gaze away from the two. Desperate for a distraction, he entertains Law.

Zoro

What's interesting?

Law

Wyper is relaxed around the Pirate King.

Zoro

So?

Law

So…look.

Law nods his head towards the crowd who are eyeing them. While the people still part to give way along the path, none of them are running back into their houses. Some have simply glanced towards them and paid them no mind, continuing on their day as usual.

Law

With our God's Guard friend at ease, people seem to be more tolerable of our presence now. At least they're not running away anymore.

The swordsman mumbles grumpily under his breath and glances back to Wyper and Sanji. The blonde looks over his shoulder and meets his eye. Zoro flinches and quickly looks away shyly. He feels the temperature around his face rise.

As they arrive at an open clearing with hundreds of Shandian teepees scattered through the field, one of Wyper’s men runs from behind them to stride alongside the warrior. He leans over and cups his hand to whisper something in his ear. They slow down their walk until they stop. Everyone follows.

Wyper

Ah…that’s a shame.

Wyper waves a hand to dismiss the guard who salutes and runs off. He turns his attention to Zoro.

Wyper

Zoro, I was hoping to have a surprise for you, but unfortunately it didn't quite work out.

Zoro

A… surprise…?

Wyper

One of the other Straw Hats–Nico Robin–was here to study ancient ruins and some of our relics.

Zoro

Robin's here? Why didn't you tell me sooner?!

Wyper

She was. I was too focused on the immediate threat–

Sanji raises an unimpressed brow towards him. Wyper clears his throat to correct himself.

Wyper 

Immediate… situation.

Zoro

So where is she now? What did you mean when you said it didn't work out?

Wyper 

Apparently she'd been gone for at least a week now. I thought she'd at least say goodbye so we didn’t know that she’d already left.

Zoro

Do you know why?

Wyper shrugs his shoulders.

Wyper 

No. Sorry.

Zoro sighs in disappointment as he remembers Nami's advice to keep in touch more often. What he would do right now to be in the presence of someone familiar who he can truly trust. If he had spoken to Robin earlier, maybe she could have told him her current whereabouts and that she could have stayed a bit longer to see him.

Now of all times would be the perfect time to gather allies. He considers reaching out to Luffy to see if they can reunite the Straw Hats to take down Doflamingo for Sanji's sake.

Wyper

All I know is that she was here to learn more about our ancient civilization and the island's Poneglyph.

Zoro

I see. That does sound like her.

Wyper 

I like your new ship by the way. The other one had charm but–

Zoro

THE SUNNY WAS HERE?!

Wyper 

Do you not know where your crewmates are? I thought you knew from what you told me earlier.

Zoro

I guess I don't know as much as I thought I did.

Was anyone else with her?

Wyper

Err…some big metal guy with blue hair? Fran-something or other. They seem close.

Zoro groans out loud, beating himself up for missing out yet another friend he could have caught up with.

Zoro

Franky….

Wyper

That's the one.

Let's continue this conversation inside. We've arrived.

Wyper approaches one of the teepees–while it’s made of the same material and is decorated similarly compared to the other dwellings, it’s slightly bigger than the rest. He pulls back the piece of canvas to reveal an opening for them to enter through.

Sanji expected a temple or a palace of sorts–a place fitting for a “God” as they called their leader. He was surprised at how humble the home looked from the outside and the inside. Near the entrance, there is a dedicated sleeping area with a stack of pillows and blankets over a fur rug, and at the far side there are small wooden shelves and drying racks stocked with essential food ingredients.

Sitting in the middle of the small dwelling is an old man with a long beard wearing a well crafted full body metal armour. He has a large platter of various fresh fruits on a wide tree stump table in front of him. Next to him is a winged woman with blonde hair and two orbs sticking out of it which look like her antennas. She looks like she's in the middle of feeding the older man a piece of fruit from the platter using a small fork.

Wyper walks after Zoro, Sanji and Law, squeezing into the small cloth tent. He stands by the far side and takes a small bow.

Wyper 

Old man…we talked about this. Why are you in full armour?

Old Man

Old habits die hard I'm afraid.

You've brought guests!

Wyper

Yes, I sent a message ahead. Didn't you get it?

Woman

We got it, but…

Oh my, is that you–Zoro?!

The woman hurriedly drops the utensil and scrambles up on her feet. She runs to the swordsman, giving him a big and tight hug.

Zoro pats her head and grins widely.

Zoro

Conis. It's been years.

The winged woman releases him and places her hands on her chest. She gives him a warm-hearted smile.

Conis 

I never thought I'd see you again!

Zoro turns to the old man and gives him a courteous bow.

Zoro

Gan Fall. It's good to see you.

From what I hear though, should we be addressing you as something else?

Gan Fall stands on his feet, albeit unsteadily until the blonde woman catches him and holds him up by the arm.

Conis

Careful!

Gan Fall

Ah, the world's greatest swordsman–Roronoa Zoro!

Are these your friends? Please, join us!

Conis carefully guides the old man back to sit in front of the tree stump table and settles herself next to him. Zoro stands aside so Law and Sanji can take his place standing in front of Gan Fall.

Wyper

God, these are Zoro's companions, Trafalgar Law and the Pirate King of the North. They're both from the North Blue.

Law and Sanji take turns bowing to Gan Fall as their names are called.

Gan Fall

You've come a long way!

No need to be so formal, Wyper. Sit! Sit! Any friend of Zoro’s is a friend of ours.

Wyper gestures for the trio to follow. They sit on the pillows and rugs laid around the tree stump. The sounds of the restraints clinking from Sanji's wrists catch the old man's attention.

Gan Fall

Oi, why's this one in chains?!

Wyper

He's the one who destroyed the sacred site just outside Upper Yard.

Gan Fall

Aha! Oh, that old thing. Don't worry, the grass will grow back. And those old ruins aren't of much use. We need to expand the city anyway. It's getting awfully crowded in the valley. Also, they're a sight for sore eyes! Good riddance, I say!

Wyper 

Gan Fall!

Sanji had felt nervous meeting their “God”, not wanting to become enemies so quickly with another country's leader. While he'd normally have more confidence introducing himself to new folks, the guilt of his earlier actions, among other things, have taken a significant impact on his morale. After hearing the old man's words, however, he felt a heavy weight off his shoulders. He returns his kindness with a bow.

Sanji

You're too forgiving, Your Highness.

Gan Fall

But your name is too long–Pirate North something or other–what can I call you?

Sanji chuckles in a deep low voice. He closes his eyes and opens them after a brief pause.

Sanji

I like you, Your Grace. Just call me S–

Gan Fall

Northy! That's easier to remember than...what–King North of the Pirates! And please, Just “Gan Fall” will do. Or Grandpa–like a lot of the other kids do! Haha!

Sanji

Sss…sure.

Zoro blinks at Sanji, then turns away with a grumpy pout,  frustrated at missing out an opportunity to potentially learn the man's true name. He tells himself that at least he has another clue now.

Wyper sits himself next to Zoro. The warrior leans over and whispers to him.

Wyper 

Err…Zoro, the Sky Knight that you remember may not be the same as before…. His memory hasn't been… reliable.

Zoro quietly nods in acknowledgement, feeling pity for the old man. When he looks up, Conis is plating various fruits from the platter and distributing them around the table.

Gan Fall

Eat! Eat! Don’t wait for my account. You must be weary from the journey.

…So to what honour do we owe the greatest swordsman and his friends?

Zoro rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

Zoro

I'm not…the greatest swordsman. Not yet anyway.

Gan Fall

Nonsense! You are in our eyes, young man. You took part in saving the entire country from a tyrannical rule. What more can be greater than that? I wouldn't be here if it weren’t for your efforts. Don’t forget that.

Zoro stares at him blankly. He'd genuinely hoped to have returned to Skypiea with the title officiated but Gan Fall's statement left him flattered. Speechless, he smiles warmly at him and starts digging in on his food.

Sanji smirks at Zoro's reaction, feeling happy to see that someone else agrees with him that he’s already the greatest of all swordsmen. He pulls out a cigarette. As he was about to light it, the old man held his hand up.

Gan Fall

Ah-ah. We don't do that here, Northy.

Sanji

Oh–sorry. How rude of me…. I should have asked first. I'll–

Gan Fall

We do this here! Bwahaha!

Gan Fall shuffles around in his waistband and procures a small enclosed bag, tossing it onto the table in front of the blonde. It falls open, revealing buds with a distinct strong scent that Sanji is too familiar with. With his other hand, he leans over and grabs one of the long wooden pipes leaning on a nearby shelf and begins stuffing its chamber with the contents from the bag. Sanji grins widely and turns to Zoro.

Sanji

Oh, I definitely like him.

Conis

Gan Fall!

Gan Fall

What? It's time for my medication! And in my house, we share!

—

Gan Fall's home has a layer of cloudy smoke inside after a couple of hours catching up. The group had become more loose and relaxed under the exposure of Gan Fall's “smoking ceremony”. The swordsman had politely declined on taking a puff but he's happily sharing a large jug of sake with Wyper. Sanji had finally caught up on food that he's skipped for the entire day, and Law felt more energised having directly shared some of Gan Fall's “medication”. “For research,” the doctor insists.

Sanji

Old man, this hits different. Where do you get your stock?

Gan Fall

Hah! As if I'd tell you. If you want to take some home, forget it. You'd just have to visit me more often! Haha!

He leans over and whispers in Sanji's ear…loudly.

Gan Fall

Because you know…I grow them myself. I got a little garden behind some tall corn stalks so Conis can’t find–

Conis

I heard that!

Gan Fall

Let me have my fun, woman!

Conis and Zoro eventually fall into a conversation about the good old days and their recent doings. She proudly shared news of her position as a waitress in a local establishment called the Pumpkin Cafe. She welcomes the trio to come down any time for a treat, to which Zoro promises to drop by at some point.

After a while, Gan Fall finally turns to Law to continue their conversation about Corazon.

Gan Fall

The Marines, huh? We don't get a lot of those up here. They invite trouble.

Wyper nods on the side in agreement as he takes a swill from the jug of sake.

Law

So I've been told.

Corazon may have not dressed like one. He has shaggy blonde hair, wears distinct makeup–wide red lipstick, dark blue spiky shapes on one side of his face–does any of that ring a bell?

Gan Fall

A…bell? Oh! Wyper, is it time?!

Wyper

No, that's not what he meant…we don't ring the other bell until tonight. Trafalgar Law here is asking about a Marine, Corazon…remember?

Gan Fall runs a hand down his beard, thinking carefully.

Gan Fall

Hmm… Corazon… hmm….

Oh, is that one of our saviors, Roronoa Zoro?!

Conis takes a sharp breath in. Zoro blinks at him and sets his jug of sake down.

Conis

Alright, I think you're overdue for your afternoon nap, God. Please–

Gan Fall

Nonsense! We have to entertain our guests!

Conis

Oh…

Sanji takes a long puff from their shared pipe and sets it down on the table gently. He breathes out and eyes the old man up and down. With a gentle voice, he speaks.

Sanji

You were just saying you wanted a nap, Gan Fall.

Gan Fall stares at him.

Gan Fall

Oh, of course! Of course.

Law

But…

Wyper stands abruptly.

Wyper

I was afraid of this… Law, we can try asking more about your Marine friend again tomorrow.

Gan Fall

Wait!

Everyone stills and looks at the old man.

Gan Fall

I don't know about a “Corazon”, but there was a group of Marines that came down here a long time ago. Around thirty years ago, I think. Troublesome bunch. They’re not the first of the navy to visit, but that lot in particular stuck to me…. I think one of them was prone to fire.

Law

F–fire…?

Gan Fall

Yes. I saw the whole thing. This tall handsome man was just trying to light up his cigarette but he somehow spontaneously combusted into flames.

Law

That’s him!

Gan Fall

Hah! Your friend is quite clumsy isn’t he?

…Oh yes, I think it’s coming back to me now!

Gan Fall continues to run his hand over his long beard and closes his eyes, thinking deeply.

Gan Fall

Well, that man was kind enough from what I saw, but the others…they wanted to take and weaponise Nola! The poor girl. They drove her out of her own home to try to capture her. That or they just wanted to study the burrow where she was born. No one has ever stepped foot in there and come out alive, not to our knowledge…. It is said to be home to the “heart” of Sky Island.

Law

Nola… the giant snake?

Gan Fall

Don't worry, she's completely harmless! You're free to visit her old burrow if you wish.

Mind you…I don’t know what lurks in the old girl’s burrow anymore…. Tread carefully.

Sanji

Marimo, do you think your archeologist friend may have checked it out?

Zoro

I honestly wouldn’t know.

Wyper

I didn’t even know of its existence until just now….

Gan Fall

You wouldn’t know where it is unless you know what to look for.

At that, Gan Fall stands. He walks around weakly and kneels in front of Law who sheds a nervous sweatdrop on the side of his brow. The old man reaches out and points a finger onto his chest.

Gan Fall

Whatever you find in there, please, take good care of it.

Law

"It"? Do you have a clue what we'll find?

Gan Fall gives him a warm smile and stands. When his legs wobble, Conis runs and holds his arms stead just in time.

Gan Fall

Something…ancient. If it’s still there.

If you’re destined to find it, you will reach it. Follow the path of the rainbow serpent.

Oh and uh…

The old man turns his gaze to Sanji.

Gan Fall

I'll trust you to keep the bag. The effects should wear off in a couple of hours…unless you have another way of sobering up. Hah!

At that he winks at the blonde and turns away, walking towards the pile of beddings where Conis gently sets him down to rest. Wyper takes one last swill from the jug of sake before clearing his throat.

Wyper

What's it to be, Trafalgar Law? Are you staying?

Law turns his gaze to the swordsman who shrugs.

Zoro

The festival could be fun if you're up for it. Unless….

Zoro and Law both look at Sanji who is stuffing his pocket with the bag that Gan Fall had left him.

Sanji

What?

Zoro

The longer we stay here, the longer you have to put up with those…things.

He nods towards the chains between the blonde's wrists.

Sanji

Y'know, the smoking ceremony made me forget about the stuff. I feel lighter.

Zoro

You’re just…okay with them now?

Sanji

I didn’t say that…. It just makes it more…bearable, I suppose.

Law

So you don't mind if we stay longer?

Sanji

I didn't say that either… but…

He looks down worriedly, trying to think of where Niji may be. What he needs is time to gather his thoughts and somehow find a way to sneak out by himself to look for his brother.

Sanji

I…guess there’s no reason not to stay?

He forces a smile, trying to hide his ever increasing anxiousness.

The doctor sighs and turns to Wyper.

Law

We'll stay but leave at first light.

Wyper 

Good. I'll show you to your hut.

—

Wyper escorts the trio towards an isolated side of the city within the perimeter of the valley. The area opens up to an untouched jungle with a small hut in the middle of a clearing. When they arrive inside, they find their belongings already transported and piled neatly in a corner of a cozy living area.

Wyper

It's a little off from town but I figured you'd want some quiet.

Zoro

Thanks Wyper. We appreciate it.

Wyper

I’m required to return to my duties but if you need me, I’ll be in the city.

Law

Thanks.

Zoro-ya, Mr. Prince-ya, I need to contact the Polar Tang to check on my crew. Don’t bother me or do anything dumb while I’m busy.

At that, Law grabs his pack and hurries into a room closest to the exit then locks the door behind him.

Zoro hoists his own bag over his shoulder and bends over to pick up Sanji's out of habit. Upon remembering that there’s no longer a reason to sleep together in the same room, he stops. He stands and takes the farthest room without a word, avoiding eye contact.

Wyper 

Uh…Zoro, that's the bathroom.

Zoro

I KNEW THAT!

Zoro shyly shifts into the room next to it and slams the door behind him.

Sanji chuckles and walks over to his own bag. Wyper eyes him and rubs the back of his neck, hesitant to say something.

Sanji

I assume that I’m not allowed to take a break from these?

He holds up his wrists and shakes the shackles side to side, showing Wyper what he's referring to.

Wyper

Sorry, you’re still within the city boundaries. I know you like Gan Fall but if you noticed, he didn't tell me to remove them from you.

Sanji groans.

Sanji

I did notice, actually. I just…

His eyes glance towards the swordsman’s room.

Wyper

What?

Sanji

It’s kinda hard to change with it on.

Wyper

Oh… in that case…

Wyper takes a step forward, nearly closing the distance between them.

Sanji

Woah–wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?

Wyper

I’m taking them off for the moment so you can change your clothes.

Sanji

That’s…allowed?

Wyper

If it’s done quickly.

The warrior raises a hand and offers it to him.

Wyper

So?

Sanji hesitates. After a brief pause, he places a hand in Wyper’s.

Wyper smirks at him and gently pulls him closer. With his other hand, he fishes out the key from his pocket and begins unlocking the restraints from the blonde’s wrists slowly, never breaking eye contact.

Wyper

If you want, I can help you dress down too.

Sanji’s eyes dart to Zoro’s room.

Sanji

I…

A heavy thump catches his attention. When he looks down, his wrists feel a lot lighter and his binds have fallen onto the wooden floor. A wave of relief washes over him. He rubs and stretches his now free hands, appreciative to have a small moment without the cursed things.

Suddenly, he feels hands slide up to his elbows as his body gets pulled flush against the warrior’s.

Wyper

So what’s it going to be?

Sanji can’t help but smirk at him.

Sanji

You do this with all your prisoners?

Wyper

You’d be the first.

As Wyper angles his head and makes his move, Sanji quickly places a finger between their lips, blocking him.

Sanji

I’m going to need some privacy. And…space.

The warrior blinks at him and quickly takes a step back. He averts his gaze.

Wyper

S–sorry… I think I just had too much to drink.

Sanji eyes him up and down. He doesn’t detect any malice from the man so he takes a step forward, careful to maintain a short distance between them. He attempts to comfort him.

Sanji

Look, there’s just… a lot of things going on. I don’t want you to get all mixed up in all the mess. I’ve made a lot of those already.

I…actually thought you’re into the Marimo.

Wyper

Marimo…? You mean Zoro?

Well…yeah.

Sanji

Oh…

After a brief pause, the realisation dawns on him.

Sanji

OH!

Wyper shrugs his shoulders.

Wyper

If you two are up for it.

Sanji

Where have you been all my life?

You know, I would have taken you up on that offer earlier in the year but…

Wyper notices the blonde eye Zoro’s room once more. 

Sanji

I think it’s best if I… don’t mess up his life any more than I already have.

The warrior gives him a warm smile and nods in understanding. He turns his heel and walks to the exit.

Sanji

Oh…Wyper, I–

Wyper

No need to explain. But…the offer’s there.

Wyper gives him one last wink before opening the door.

Wyper

Can I trust you to have those shackles back on before you leave the hut?

Sanji

You’d… let me leave it off?

Wyper

As long as you’re in here. I know that it must have been painful for you to keep it on. I’m not dumb enough to try and put them back on you either, especially after all that trouble that you and your swordsman went through. But…you didn’t hear any of this from me.

See you later at the festival?

Sanji

Uh…y–yes.

At that, Wyper leaves and closes the door behind him.

Feeling exasperated from the day, Sanji runs his hands over his face and turns away from the door. He finds himself smiling.

Sanji

What the hell just happened?

----------

Due to health issues, I'll probably be slowing down on writing and drawing stuff for my fics 🙏 Thanks for reading!

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 6

Eyeless Jack x Reader Smut

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss thank you so so much for the support, I appreciate it so! Damn much!! 💖💖

I hope everyone's still enjoying the story ^^ I know it might seem like I'm padding stuff out, but I promise there's a reason for it!! Anyways, I'm entirely open to hearing your genuine thoughts about how things are moving forwards, plz don't be shy to lmk! And I hope yall enjoy this part 6!!

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Masterlist: x

He can’t do it

He knows he’s a coward

But he just can’t face you

He can’t confront you, he doesn’t have it in him

Especially not after what he did outside your door

And since then, whenever he’s seen you walk by, whenever your paths have met, he’s had to turn away because of the guilt and shame fluttering in his chest

Even just this morning, when you offered him a smile as you passed him down the hall, he could barely face you

It looked like you wanted to talk to him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eyes, much less have a civilized discussion with you

He’s a fucking coward

You probably think he’s upset with you

He doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to deal with the mess he’s created

So, he eventually resorts to the one person that’s offered any kind of help up until this point

He reaches the familiar clearing lined by the rotting wooden fence

And he almost can’t believe his misfortune when he sees that you’re there—flushed, panting and sweaty, chatting with Hoodie and Masky by the edges of the training ground

That’s right, he remembers you’ve been training with Hoodie recently

He tries to force down the jealousy blooming in his chest like familiar heartache

And he almost turns away to avoid you again

But then Hoodie looks up, and a grin appears on his face at the sight of Jack approaching

The proxy looks back down at you, then nudges his head towards the demon

You turn to look at what he’s gesturing towards

And then Jack locks eyes with you

Fuck

He can’t keep running away from you

He takes in a deep breath to steel his nerves, then keeps walking to join up with the three of you

The two proxies nod at him, and you offer him another smile, similar to the one you gave him earlier today

God, that smile

“Came here to train as well?”

Hoodie’s voice snaps him from his daze

That’s right, he should probably stop staring at you

He clears his throat, tries to act natural

“Yeah,” he lies, and then to sound more believable, he adds, “I figured you could use more practice after I won so easily last time”

Hoodie snorts

“Hey, hey, don’t act like I didn’t get a few good ones in on you”

“You? Land some good hits on him?” Masky suddenly interjects with a sarcastic huff, “c’mon, man, your lies are usually more believable than that”

“Watch it, old man, you’re in no condition to start a fight,” Hoodie playfully threatens his partner with a light kick to his leg, which has Masky grunting in pain

And that’s when Jack finally notices the crutches leaning up against the fence next to Masky

“You fucking—“

Masky makes a move to retaliate, but Hoodie jumps back, and the injured proxy can’t go through with his attack

“What happened?” Jack asks, interrupting them with a nod toward the crutches

“Twisted my fucking ankle,” the proxy answers, shooting a death glare through his mask at his partner, “and then I got a nice little ax jammed into my calf. Damaged some nerves or something, I don’t know”

Jack hums

What would otherwise be a grave injury for a normal human was usually just a minor inconvenience for one of Slender’s proxies

The perks of getting your soul snatched up by a devil, Jack supposes

“You sure you don’t want me to take a look at it?” he offers, but Masky just shakes his head

“I’ll be fine, just sitting these sessions out for now”

“He’s using it as an excuse to take a vacation,” Hoodie teases, and he laughs as Masky fails to attack him again

“You son of a goddamn fucking—“

“Alright, alright, children, break it up”

You move between the two proxies, acting as a barrier to get them to stop annoying one another

Jack feels another pang of jealousy, but he manages to mostly just ignore it

You shake your head, grinning as the two men keep flicking and annoying one another over your smaller form

With a chuckle, you sigh

“Anyways, I’ll let you guys do your workout," you nod at Jack and Hoodie, “I gotta go take a shower”

Jack wants to say something as you’re leaving

He wants to apologize, wants to have the courage to just openly talk about what’s going on between the two of you

But it’s like there’s a disconnect between his brain and his mouth, and he suddenly doesn’t know how to speak

He’s going to have to stand there and watch you leave again

You’re a few feet away when you turn to face him, much to his surprise

“Oh, that’s right,” you say, and Jack’s ears perk up attentively, “we’re thinking about having a campfire in the backyard tomorrow. You in?”

“Of course,” he answers immediately

You smile, and the sight has him feeling all warm inside before he’s reminded of the cruel truth

He can’t trick himself again

Can’t trick himself into believing you’re into him the same way he’s into you

“Great, I’ll see you then!”

And with that, you walk off

He watches you leave, hearing the irregular pattern of his heart beating against his ribcage

He’s only snapped out of it by Hoodie yet again, who walks up behind him and offers a few friendly pats on the back

“Ah, young love~” he snickers

There’s a pause, and then Jack groans, smacking his hand to his face

“Is it that obvious?”

“Obvious?” Masky repeats the word, and Jack looks back at the injured proxy, who folds his thick arms over his chest, “Even an eight-year-old dead kid was able to pick up on it. You’re beyond obvious. You’re hopeless”

Jack groans again, and Hoodie’s condescending back pats do little to console him

“Relax,” Hoodie says, and Jack does not, in fact, relax, “She doesn’t have anything against you, y’know. You guys just need to work something out”

Jack tries not to groan again, just because three in a row seem like a bit much, at this point

“That’s the thing,” he starts, “I just—I can’t. I can’t talk to her. It’s like something gets in the way, or,” he shakes away the very recent memory of what he did in front of your door, “it just never works out”

“Listen, you’re making yourself panic. Just don’t overthink it; she’ll hear you out no matter how much you stumble over your words”

“Which you seem to do a lot around her,” Masky snickers, and whatever’s left of Jack’s confidence deflates just a little bit more

Hoodie shoots Masky a look, but all that does is make him laugh again

“Look man, she invited you to the campfire thing, right? Why don’t you try to talk to her before then? And if that doesn’t work, maybe try to find a way to spend time with her tomorrow morning or something”

Hoodie’s words do little to encourage him

Masky must notice, because he eventually adds, “I say there’s no point in waiting that long. You have something to tell her? Do it now—waiting around will just stress you out even more. You’re not doing yourself any favors by building it up in your head”

There’s a pause as Jack considers his insight

“…Ok. Alright. You’re right, I have to do this”

The demon nods to himself

He’ll just have to bite the proverbial bullet; things won’t get any less awkward between the both of you if he doesn’t do anything about it

And, really, what’s the point of waiting?

“There we go, that’s the attitude,” Hoodie gives him a few more pats on the back, “you got this, man”

When he reaches your room this time, it’s open

He knocks on the open door, calls out your name, but there’s no response

He tried giving you plenty of time to shower and come back, but maybe he’d been too eager and hadn’t waited long enough

The rational thing to do is leave and come back later

But, for some reason, he doesn’t

It’s like he’s pulled into your room, like he can’t stop his instincts from tugging him forwards—a puppet on the strings of his desire

The faint smell of your arousal lingers in the air

He breathes it in, and his abdomen immediately clenches in response

He’s being inappropriate again, he knows it

He shouldn’t be doing this

But fuck, you smell so fucking delicious

He swallows thickly

His thoughts are teetering between wanting to stay and knowing he should leave—especially before you walk in on him

And then his sight lands on a pair of lacy underwear that you left at the foot of your bed

He freezes

He shouldn’t

Christ, he really, really shouldn’t

But he notices the wet patch you’ve left on them, and it’s like he can’t help himself

He pockets them and walks out

There’s a sick sense of guilt clinging to him as he reaches his room

You’d almost think he’d be used to that feeling by now, after all the inappropriate things he’s done

But this feels like he’s just crossed yet another line

Either way, that guilt isn’t strong enough to get him to return the panties to your room

It’s not strong enough to stop him from pulling them out of his pockets and running his fingers over the wet spot at the center

And it’s most certainly not strong enough to stop him from balling them up to his face and inhaling deeply

As soon as he does, he’s done for

His lust overrides any remaining rational thought

Your scent drives him feral

He groans, already drunk off the thought of you

Another deep breath, and he’s practically drooling

It’s no use trying to hold himself back, he’s already a goner

Getting on his bed, he quickly undoes his pants, letting his hard-on spring free, and with his dominant hand, he strokes his erection from the very base all the way to the tip

He grunts, trying to imagine it was you wrapped up around him instead of just his hand

He presses your panties closer to his face, bunching them up, teasing the wet spot at his lips so that he can just barely taste the remnants of your arousal

Friends

Would you still hold that sentiment knowing all the filthy things he does while thinking of you?

He sighs, the sound low and gravelly from somewhere deep within his chest

God, you’re fucking perfect

Everything about you makes him insatiable—it’s like you were made for him, made to torture him with his need

He grinds his hips up into his palm, feeling his cock twitch and throb in response

He imagines you clenching around him, making all those pretty sounds he’s heard you make recently

He breathes in again, another lungful of your scent, and it’s almost too much

He squeezes the tip of his length, and your name escapes him in a husky sigh

His hips wriggle up, pushing more of his length into his hand, and he imagines you on top of him, naked, your back arching as he fills your pretty little cunt up with the entirety of his length

He chokes out another groan, feeling his hips stutter impatiently

When he inhales, more of your scent floods his senses, and that insatiable hunger coils in his stomach until all of his muscles are tensing involuntarily

He’s burning for your touch

He snaps his hips forward, aching cock twitching in his hold, releasing a few more beads of precum at his slit

His tongue traces over the lace of your panties, and when your taste fills his mouth, he groans eagerly

“F-fuck—(y/n)~”

He sounds just about as desperate as he feels

He pumps his length in and out, in and out of his clenched fist until his shaft is slick with precum

He imagines you lapping at his stiff cock, he imagines bending you over and screwing you senseless

The fantasies he’s had countless times before replay in his mind as he uses your panties to help him get off

Knowing your bare cunt was rubbing against the lace not too long ago turns him on more than any kind of porn ever could

It doesn’t even come close

He curses, groaning, his movements growing increasingly rushed and frantic

His mind and body alike are consumed by his desperation

His fingers dig into the delicate material, and if he had any more control over himself, he’d be worried about tearing them

But he’s too far gone to care, too engrossed in the way the pretty lace feels pressing against his face to care about being gentle

When he licks at the wet spot again, he can almost imagine his tongue was buried inside your walls instead

He ruts into his clenched fist, the prominent vein curling along his shaft throbbing with equal impatience

He’s a snarling, groaning mess, jerking himself off like a depraved fucking teenager

He huffs at your panties, breathing you in, letting your scent and taste and even just the thought of you overwhelm him until he snaps

He pushes his hips forwards, his cock twitching and throbbing as he finally cums

His seed dribbles down his shaft, pooling in a mess at his pelvis, but he’s too euphoric to care

He gives a few more languid thrusts into his hand, riding out the high, before eventually stilling

He’s panting, chest heaving, your lace panties still bundled up at his face for him to savor

But it’s just not enough

It’s not the real thing

He won’t be satisfied until he gets you

There’s a brief pause as he lets the endorphins wash over him

And then, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, basking in the aftermath of his high, he thinks, fuck

He really just stole your panties to get himself off

He’s a fucking perv

Swallowing thickly, he tries not to think about your reaction if you ever found out

Instead, he wipes up his mess, going through the leftover box of tissues he keeps by his bedside for times like these

He should probably return your underwear, he realizes

But by this point, you’ve probably finished your shower, and you’re probably back in your room already

He’ll have to return them before tomorrow night, just so that he won’t feel so guilty seeing you at the campfire and knowing he still has them

He sighs to himself

Why does he have to make things so complicated?

Why can’t he just control himself around you?

After obsessing over you for as long as Jack has, the demon has become somewhat familiar with your routine

He knows when you’re least likely to be in your room

Which means he knows the perfect time to sneak in without you seeing him do so

So in the early afternoon the following day, he finds himself back inside your place with relative ease

Surrounded by your things, your various trinkets, clothing and furniture, it has a certain kind of warmth blooming in his chest

Everything in your room is so distinctly you

Not only does your scent mark it as your territory, but the way you’ve set things up, the way you’ve decorated—it’s all so obviously your space

It brings a smile to his lips

He can’t help it; he’s utterly head-over-heels for you

He should just drop off your panties and leave as soon as he can to avoid getting caught

But again, it’s like he’s only pulled deeper into your room

Like he's coaxed into invading your space because he’s too love-drunk and obsessed to stop himself

He notices some of the framed pictures you have scattered around, and he finds himself looking at each and every single one

Some of them are with you and different creeps from the mansion, posing or hanging out at various events

Others have people he doesn’t recognize in them, and he realizes he doesn’t know much about your life before you joined the mansion

He hums, taking one of the framed photos to trace over the outline of your face

You’re grinning at the camera next to someone he doesn’t recognize, your arm thrown over their shoulder

Both of you look like you’re mid-laugh

Your smile’s utterly contagious

His heart swells in his chest

It’s only dampened by the reminder that you don’t feel the same

He sets the picture back down, trying to ignore the bitter sting of unrequited love

Focus, he tells himself

He has to find somewhere to leave your underwear that won’t be obvious they were ever taken in the first place

Next to your door, he spots a hamper for dirty laundry

Bingo

He peeks inside, which in hindsight, he really shouldn’t have

He should’ve just dropped the panties inside, then left without looking back

Because there, amongst various t-shirts and jeans, he sees them—those fucking shorts

The shorts you were wearing when he ate you out, when he fingered you at the kitchen table

He swallows thickly

Twice now

Twice he’s had a sexual encounter with you, and both of those times, you were wearing these shorts

The shorts that hug your ass so perfectly, that show off just the right amount of thigh

He wonders if they still carry your scent

He can only imagine they do

Tentative hands reach out to them

He feels the fabric against his fingertips, and he’s reminded of the way your skin had felt against his knuckles when he’d stroked over your leg

He can’t do it, he realizes, he can’t return your underwear

It’s all he has of you

It’s all he can use when he’s aching for you

Would taking the shorts be too far?

In a split-second decision, instead of taking your shorts, he takes another pair of panties that’d been tossed into the hamper

Just like the first pair, he stuffs these in his pockets, then quickly walks out of your room

He’ll return them, he thinks, he’ll definitely return them eventually

He’s just not ready to return them just yet

Thankfully, no one catches him leaving your room

And he’s so, so close to reaching the sanctuary of his own room when, much to his mortification, he hears you calling out to him

He freezes in his tracks, his hand just barely hovering over his doorknob

“Oh, hey Jack, I was looking for you!”

He can barely look you in the eyes as he turns to face you when you approach him, but hopefully, you don’t notice anything suspicious through the cover of his mask

“About the campfire I mentioned—“ you pause, looking at him

It’s like the underwear are burning in his pockets

“Yeah?” he asks, trying not to flinch at how the guilt so obviously seeps through his voice

“I know I said it was supposed to be tonight, but we’re pushing it to tomorrow because it’s raining”

When he doesn’t say anything, because he just doesn’t know what to say, you hesitate

“…Is that alright? Do you still think you’ll join?”

He nods

He feels like a deer in headlights

“A-alright, well… I guess I’ll see you then”

He nods again

You seem to hesitate again, like there’s more you want to tell him

But then you turn and leave

And as soon as you do, he opens the door and quickly closes it shut behind him

He was supposed to return your panties

Not steal another pair

He’s only gone and made things worse yet again

What the fuck is wrong with him?

[sapphic-coded]

I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Series Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Imaginary violence. Reader is a messed up assassin and doesn't like recon jobs. Expensive alcohol. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: I'm back from vacation and I caught covid. I wrote this whole chapter while I was stuck in quarantine so I apologize if anything doesn't make sense. Thank you again for the endless love you have shown this series. It's really fun to write and I'm glad you guys enjoy reading it.

Taglist: @natsxwife @iliketozoneout @newawakening9 @natasha-1million @ilovemcuff @beholdagaywriter

Chapter Four: Between Fact And Fiction, Which One Of Us Changed?

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1992

The bark was rough against your hands as your foot found purchase against a sturdy gnarl. You reached for the thick branch above and dug your fingers into the familiar wood. It took hardly a minute to pull yourself up onto the branch. Your movement was fluid. Practiced. You have climbed this tree more times than you can count. You settled onto the thick branch, and it held your weight with ease. The branch you sat on was nearly as high as the roof of your house. It afforded you the best view of your small neighborhood. 

You looked down and found Nat confidently scaling up the tree. The moment she was close enough, you leaned down and offered your hand. Her hand wrapped around yours and you helped pull her up onto the branch with you. Your legs swung lazily as she sat down next to you. The sun had already begun its descent towards the treeline, and you felt nothing but raw excitement for the approaching weekend. Your father was wrapped up in communications with his past self and had made it clear that he was not to be bothered. Which left a whole weekend free to do whatever you wanted. No hunting trips. No extracurricular activities. Just two whole days of sweet freedom. 

Nat swung her backpack around, pulled out something, and then leaned her bag against the trunk of the tree. She held out something in a long, thin shiny packaging towards you. Your eyes widened, and your smile grew at what was unmistakably a delicious fruit roll-up. You took it and immediately tore open the wrapper. You ripped off a bite with your teeth and chewed on the sweet snack happily. 

“Your parents are way cooler than my father,” you said before you ripped off another bite with your teeth. 

Nat smiled and shook her head as she opened up the wrapper. “My mom says this stuff will rot your teeth. Ashley had a bunch of these with her at school today. I traded a yoo-hoo for these.”

You didn’t know who Ashley was. Her face in your mind was a blend of every other face you passed in the hallways. 

“You said your Dad had company?” Nat asked as she ripped off a piece of her fruit roll-up. 

You followed her gaze to your driveway that was largely empty except for your father’s station wagon. “He does. It’s one of his past selves. He doesn’t know when. They keep changing their story.” As you took another bite, the front door of your house opened and your brother and sister walked out. Your brother was dressed in one of his nicer black suits while your sister wore a black slip dress over a brown and black striped T-shirt. As they made their way down the driveway, another car turned onto the street and pulled up in front of your house. You didn’t recognize any of the other teens in the car, but they all looked to be either around your brother’s age or older. 

You chewed on your snack as you watched your siblings climb into the car and drive off. You had no idea if your brother ever worked up the courage to ask Sadie to the dance. Ever since you met Nat, most of your free time has been spent hanging out with your friend. Not that your siblings seemed to mind. In fact, they both seemed to like Nat when they crossed paths with you two the other day. 

“My Dad wants to pull out our grill one last time for the season,” Nat said as she ripped off another piece of her fruit roll-up. “You should come by tomorrow. My parents want to meet you.” 

You looked over at Nat. You knew exactly what your father would say if you asked him if you could go. He wouldn’t just say no. He’d find a way to make sure that such an opportunity would never come your way again. He tolerated your newfound friendship with Nat because it made you look normal. It kept up appearances. But going any deeper than that could turn a stroke of luck into a potential problem. 

You knew all of this, yet you didn’t feel fear as you settled on your answer. Your father would find out. It was pointless to hide anything from him. But whatever punishment he would dish out felt shallow. Your thoughts were anchored on Nat, and how nice it felt to be around her. She offered no judgment whenever you mentioned your family. She could have left you once the other kids told her how weird you were. But she stayed by your side. 

So you said, “Okay.” And all you could think about was spending your free weekend with your friend.

Stockholm – 2010

As the car pulls to a stop, your father hands you a folded piece of pale, yellow scrap paper. 

“Call your brother,” he says as you unfold the piece of paper. Scratched in quick strokes of black ink is a phone number. “He wants to talk to you.” 

You fold the piece of scrap paper in half and look over at your father. He is dressed in a black tuxedo suit with matching polished black shoes. His black hair is combed back from his face and in the dim light of the car, it is nearly impossible to see the faint white streaks peppered throughout. The smell of his cologne hangs heavy between you two. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“He did not wish to discuss his reasoning with me,” your father replies. “He insisted on talking with you.”

You shrug and sit back in the cushioned leather seat. “Then I’ll call him later.”

“No,” your father’s reply is calculated and sharp. You imagine him standing above you and barking orders in that same tone of voice. Go. Fight. Run. Kill. “You will call him now. This is a very important night. We cannot afford another mistake like Amsterdam.”

You roll your eyes. “When will you stop with that? I did the job.” 

“I will stop when you stop distracting yourself with that spy,” your father snaps. 

You shift around in your seat so you can face your father fully. “First, you have no proof that she was ever a Russian spy.”

“I have mountains of evidence, Y/N,” your father is quick to argue. “You just won’t listen.”

“Second,” you continue as if your father didn’t say anything, “she is not a distraction. Every job you have given me since Amsterdam I have completed. Even the ones that draw her out.”

Your father shifts around in his seat to face you fully as well. He points his finger at you. “That is it. Right there. You have just admitted it. You are drawing her out.” 

“I am not.”

“She is a distraction,” your father presses. “What do you think will happen once she has you right where she wants you?”

You laugh and roll your eyes again. “It’s not like that. We are just talking.” 

“She is your enemy, Y/N.” 

You shift back into your seat and stare ahead at the tinted window partition that separates the front of the car from the back. You fold your arms in front of your chest as you bite back the same old retort. It has been a little over a month since Amsterdam, and just about three weeks since London. You’ve done three more jobs since, and she hasn’t shown up at a single one. The disappointment you’ve been carrying around is crushing. You thought she was starting to get close. You thought she had finally picked up your trail. But you were wrong, and you hated the growing silence between the two of you. 

You hear your father shift back into his seat next to you. You don’t know how else to explain to your father that your conversations with her are not distractions. You have argued your point so many times, but he doesn’t listen. But if the past three jobs were anything to go by, he won’t have to worry about her for much longer. If she lost your trail, then only luck would put her back in front of you. You can feel your frustration beginning to resurface. There was still so much left unsaid. You were hoping for at least one more conversation. 

“Call your brother so we can carry on with our night,” your father says. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. You step out onto a quiet sidewalk lit by the white glow of the streetlamp. The black Lexus you and your father have been riding in idles as you shut the door behind you. You make your way over to the payphone and dial the number written on the piece of scrap paper. As you wait for an answer, your hand dips into the pocket of your navy blue suit jacket. Your father had instructed you to dress up for tonight, so you had selected one of your favorite suits. Your suit jacket remains unbuttoned and reveals the white satin blouse beneath that scoops down towards your breasts. Your matching navy blue trousers run down the lengths of your legs and end at your black oxford shoes. 

“Hello?” your brother’s voice speaks through the receiver. 

You turn your back to the idling Lexus. “Hi.” You can hear your brother’s sigh.

“Y/N,” he says. “It’s good to hear from you. How have you been?” 

You shrug despite the fact that your brother cannot see it. You look down and kick a small pebble further down the sidewalk. “Fine. Work keeps me busy. You?” 

“Same,” your brother replies. “Long hours. Little sleep. Living off the vending machines whenever I’m not home.” 

“That sounds terrible,” you say. 

“It’s better than working for Dad,” your brother says.

You look over your shoulder towards the black Lexus for a moment. “Yeah…well…you do what you’re good at, and I do what I’m good at.” 

“Y/N–”

“Why did you want to talk?” you cut in. 

Your brother lets out another sigh. “I had a visitor last night.”

You look back down towards the sidewalk and spot another tiny pebble. You kick that one further down the sidewalk. 

“Your friend from Ohio.”

Your gaze snaps up and lands on the phone. Your grip on the receiver tightens as your heart starts to beat faster. 

“I’m pretty sure you know who I’m talking about since she mentioned running into you earlier,” your brother says. 

“She found you?” It’s the only question you can think of. Your mind is racing so fast. 

“I’m not that hard to find,” your brother replies. “It’s you she’s trying to find.”

Your free hand comes up and you press the palm of your hand against your forehead. You can’t fight back the smile that curls your lips. She’s trying to find you. And she’s closer now. It won’t be just luck that drops her back into your life. Just a matter of time. You can hardly wait. 

“She knows about your work,” your brother says. 

Your smile grows as you close your eyes. “What did she say?”

“That you’re really good,” he answers. 

You wonder how much she knows. Does she only know about your jobs in Amsterdam and London? “High praise from the dearly departed.” 

“Yeah, I…I’m sorry,” he replies. “I was just as confused about what happened. I just saw Dad twisting it into another one of his crazy theories and I…” 

Suddenly you’re back in Ohio standing in your front yard. The house across the street that once radiated an irresistible warmth stands cold and empty. Trapped in your small body, you feel numb. You don’t understand. 

“...I didn’t want him to hurt you more,” your brother’s words lead you back to the payphone. You open your eyes. “So I told you what I thought would give you the most closure.”

You run your fingers down the length of the phone cord. There’s something you want to say to your brother that has nothing to do with friends coming back from an assumed death. But you don’t know how to say it. So you stand there in silence.  

“We need to meet. All three of us.”

You blink and your brow furrows. “Why?”

“Because whatever Dad has you doing is more than just contract work,” he replies. “Your friend seems to think that your past jobs are all connected to something bigger. And knowing Dad, she wouldn’t be wrong.” 

You glance back at the black Lexus. “What else did she say?” 

“That she’s going to find you.” 

You wonder what she was wearing when she spoke with your brother. 

“Y/N, this is serious.”

You shake your head. “Fine. I’ll call you when I’m back at my place.” You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone. You tuck your brother’s phone number into your pocket and return to the car. The moment you settle back into your seat and shut the door, the car starts moving. 

The drive to your destination is not long. In less than an hour the car rolls up the driveway of a large luxurious mansion. The night air is cool when you step out of the car. The mansion’s large glass windows shine from the lights within. The quiet of the surrounding trees and gardens scattered throughout the estate reminds you of the peaceful quiet of your little cabin tucked far away. 

Your father’s orders are simple and straightforward. You are attending a party hosted by your father’s very important clients. Dine. Drink. Have fun. Don’t do anything else unless he tells you. You don’t argue. While you don’t care about these clients, you don’t mind entertaining yourself on their dime. 

The mansion is warm and bright when you enter. The sound of jazz music mixes with the lively hum of voices as you take in the sight of so many people all dressed in their finest suits and gowns. You don’t recognize any of them. Perhaps you should. These are all important people. People with some sliver of power. Certainly these people are probably CEOs or politicians or other important leaders. You wonder, as you casually walk further into the mansion, whether or not you’ve killed for these people before. 

The thought amuses you so much that you decide to make up stories for each stranger you pass. You had long left your father to mingle with his clients as you passed by two happy couples laughing at some joke. Your own lips lift into a smile despite not knowing what exactly they were laughing about. You just imagine shoving their old lovers, flames of passion long since burned out, off the roof of a mansion. Both couples looked like they owned mansions like this one. You imagine standing on the roof’s edge and looking down. You struggle to decide how strangely their bodies would break upon landing. It’s a hole in your imagination, but you are certain about the ring of blood that would surround the bodies. 

You swipe a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. You take a sip as you enter a much larger room. Off in the corner, a live jazz band is playing while more rich strangers mingle amongst each other. You spot a group of six gentlemen standing underneath a large abstract painting. As they talk, you imagine crushing the head of their rival beneath the sole of your boot. The rival’s scream would be terribly short lived and replaced with the crunch of breaking bone. You finish off your champagne and exchange your empty glass for another when another waiter passes. You also snatch up a fancy looking appetizer that tastes of a lovely blend of cheeses. 

You sip on your second glass of champagne as you wander around the crowded room. Your fantasies about these strangers fuels you. Barely an hour passes and you have imagined killing so many people. You can’t decide which fantasy is your favorite. You are torn between running over a sheriff with a tank or smothering an ex-lover in their bed. Both fantasies have an alluring thrill to them. You are starting to lean more towards the tank when one of the waiters stops next to you with a silver tray full of more drinks.   

“Would you like a new drink?” 

You abandon your fantasies the moment her voice reaches your ear. You look to your right. Standing next to you is Nat. She is dressed like all the other waiters roaming the busy rooms. Her white collared, button up shirt is nicely pressed and barren of a single blemish. The black vest she wears over her shirt is also without a single wrinkle. Black trousers cover the legs you remember straddling you back in Amsterdam. Her red hair is pulled back into another intricate braid that you are starting to adore. 

You look down at the empty champagne glass in your hand. The light chattering of all the other guests does not falter. The band continues to play. You feel the same rush from London warming every inch of you. Your earlier worries suddenly seem so humorous. You thought you had run too far ahead. You thought you knew what to do after hanging up the phone with your brother. Slow down. Give her time to catch up. 

But she has already caught up to you. 

And you can hardly contain your happiness. 

Your smile returns when your gaze lifts to meet her stare. “I’d love one.” You set your empty champagne glass onto the silver tray she is holding, and grab a fresh one. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asks. 

You take a sip of your third glass of champagne. “I am now that I have better company.” You gesture to the full glasses on the tray. “You should have some. It’s not very good, but it tastes expensive.” 

She turns slightly. “I’m working.” 

That’s hardly a surprise. If it’s not you working then it’s her. If she’s not working then you never see her. “When do you get off?” 

She doesn’t answer you, and you think you see a hint of a smile on her face, but another guest snatches away her attention before you can know for sure. You watch as she leaves and approaches the guest who called her over. The guest grabs two glasses of champagne before she walks off. You don’t follow. You stand there, sipping on your champagne, and watch. Every thought in your head is screaming for you to go after her. You still have so many questions. You still crave that blissful high you feel when it is just the two of you. You watch as she makes her way through the mingling guests. You finish your champagne the moment you see her disappear into another room. She shuts the door behind her and you can feel your palms start to sweat again. You know what this is. The invitation is blatantly clear. 

Your gaze sweeps around the gathered guests. You don’t see your father anywhere. Probably off talking to even more important clients. Perfect. You dump your glass onto the tray of another passing waiter as you cut through the crowd. Nobody else goes near the door as you get close. You turn and take one more look around at the busy party. Still no sign of your father. Just more strangers. You turn the doorknob, push open the door, and step into the room. 

This room is much smaller and not as brightly lit as the others. It looks to be some kind of entertaining room that only old wealth would have. In the middle of the room is a large wooden round table with eight dark brown leather armchairs surrounding it. Sitting on top of the table was the silver tray still full of drinks. Off on the right hand side of the room is an empty fireplace. To the left is a small bar where you find Nat. 

The door clicks shut behind you and muffles the noise of the party. You make your way to the table and settle into the armchair closest to the silver tray. “Are there any more of those fancy pigs in a blanket back there?” You grab a new glass off the tray and look over towards Nat. 

She turns around to face you. In her hands is a bottle of whiskey and two tumbler glasses. “No, but I think I found something better.” 

You smile as Nat sets the bottle and glasses down on the table. As she sits down in the armchair next to you, you reach forward and grab the bottle of whiskey. You examine the fancy label. “These people are always the same. They feed everyone the bad stuff and keep the good stuff for themselves.” You lift your champagne glass to your lips, tilt your head back, and finish the champagne in one greedy drink. You set the empty glass aside and reach for the two tumbler glasses. “I thought you were working.” 

“I am,” she replies. “I’m on break.” 

You open the bottle of whiskey. “Fun job?” 

She shrugs. “Recon.” 

You pour the whiskey into the two tumbler glasses. “I was never much of a fan of those jobs. Made the days feel long. I prefer keeping busy.” You set the whiskey bottle down before pushing one of the glasses towards Nat. She is watching you, and you love it. “But at least you have entertainment and good company. I spent my last recon job in a bunker.” Your smile drops a little at the memory. 

Her head tilts a little to the side. “The Idaho job?” 

You are about to pick up your glass, but stop. Your gaze had dropped to the fancy amber liquid. You try to remember when you had taken that job. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it couldn’t have been that long after your eighteenth birthday. That’s when you found your ‘groove’. When you had finally beat out the last bit of you that flinched every time you pulled the trigger. Your smile returns when you meet her olive green eyes again. How far back did she dig? Your fingers curl around the glass. “Two weeks spent in a place that smelled like piss and sweat. It’s hard to maintain your cover when you want to gag every time one of them goes near you.” 

“But you did,” she says as you lift the glass to your lips and take a drink of the whiskey. The smooth nutty taste washes over your tongue. “I doubt Hickman would have kept his back to you if he didn’t trust you.” 

The whiskey burns pleasantly as it goes down your throat. “Someone has done their research.” The memories of the Idaho job are still fuzzy, but you remember the weight of the shotgun in your hands. You remember the satisfaction you felt seeing Hickman’s body jerk forward from the deafening blast. The smell of gunpowder. The pieces of his head sticking to his desk. You lean forward and rest your arms on the table as you take another sip of your whiskey. “What do you think?” 

She doesn’t answer right away. Your heart is beating against your chest as you wait. You don’t exactly know what you want to hear from her. You just hope that it isn’t disgust. You have tasted bitter disappointment so often these past few weeks. You can’t take much more of it. 

“I think you’re really good,” she says. 

As your heart soars, you see a kind of sadness in her eyes that you don’t understand. 

“You have a very specific skill set.” 

Your smile grows as you lean back into the armchair. You hold your glass of whiskey in your hand. Her gaze never wanders from yours, and you don’t see any telltale signs of fear. It’s so common among all the people you meet when they realize what you are. But she’s not afraid. She doesn’t even look angry. It fills you with so much hope. It’s almost perfect. You just don’t understand why she looks sad. 

“Thanks for the compliment, Nat,” you say before you finish your whiskey. “I’m so glad you’re not dead. I missed having someone normal to talk to.” You see a flash of a smile cross her face. “We still need to catch up when we’re not doing all of…” you raised your arm and gestured with your hand towards the door. “...this. When are you free next?” 

“If you come with me, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up tonight,” she replies. 

“Tempting,” you say. “But I have a prior commitment I can’t miss. A family thing.” You stand up and set your empty glass down on the table. “But I’ll reach out after.” You turn and start towards the door. When you reach the door, you reach for the doorknob but stop. You turn and find Nat still sitting at the table. “Next time let’s do coffee.”

Her smile returns. It’s small, but it fills you with so much warmth. “That would be nice.”

Your hand falls upon the doorknob and when the door cracks open, the noise of the party spills into the room. You step out and back into the mingling crowd of guests. You allow your feet to carry you across the room as your mind begins laying the foundation of your next meeting with Nat. You end up so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice your father until he is walking up to you with the proudest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. 

His hand settles heavily on your shoulder. “We’re almost there, Y/N.”

[yourreality-mp3]

Obviously, Yuri is a very shy person and Natsuki is a very outspoken person and they have clashing views or at least...they used to.

Their views used to clash and they'd get into very messy fights, one evening, after club, even nearly escalating to physical with Yuri getting so uncharacteristically upset that she bashed her fists down on a desk and shockingly, startled Natsuki into complete silence.

"Story Telling." - A Natsuri (Natsuki x Yuri) fanfic by yourreality-mp3

Part 1- "Conflict."

(Before the masterlist comes out, to read more; go to my blog and press on the tag "story telling" it will lead you to every part)

Both girls froze immediately until Natsuki gradually broke down crying and yelled for Yuri to leave her alone. Scared but not wanting to escalate things any further, Yuri did as she was asked and walked around the second floor of the school for about 10 minutes, overthinking and afraid that she had caused some terrible downfall to the club and that she hurt Natsuki.

Calming from her panicked state, she slowly opened the club room door and seen Natsuki hunched over with the quiet sound of her sobbing resounding in the room. "Natsuki?" Yuri slowly stepped toward her and got on her knees, "Is it okay if I-" Yuri began to ask, hands stopping just before reaching Natsuki's shoulders, Natsuki reluctantly nods and so, Yuri places her hands on the crumpled up Natsuki's shoulders. Natsuki's balled fists of anger and sadness uncurled as she moved herself to sit up on her knees.

"I'm fine." Natsuki spoke shakily, cold tears being wiped by Yuri's long fingers. "I'm sor-" Yuri went to apologize but Natsuki just shook her head slowly. "It's okay. It's my fault anyway." Natsuki's body shuffles and she rests her hands on her face, "I was stupid to have broken down in the first place." Her voice seemed to be getting more clear.

"You also don't need to help me, I don't need anyone's help." Natsuki slowly rose up and walked toward a window, wiping her cheek stained with tears and taking a breath, Yuri slowly followed. "You know," Yuri rubs her arm, "It's okay to want help." Yuri walks toward her slowly, Natsuki seems to ponder.

"I don't..." Natsuki's eyes water and she grips the window cill. "Fine!" She shouts, trying to avoid the tears that are already falling, "Fine." She repeats, somberly. Yuri makes her way to Natsuki's side and they stare out the window at the golden setting sun. "It's getting late." Yuri comments, Natsuki nods.

"I don't really want to talk about it just yet." Natsuki rubs her arm, feeling the several bandaids underneath her uniform, at one point feeling at a bruise and wincing. "That's okay." Yuri says, "It's hard to want to talk about something that hurts you, especially if you've never said anything about it before." Neither of the girls look at each other but Natsuki reluctantly hits her pinky against Yuris' and they interlock.

Before the doors to the school locked, the two girls exited with their pinkies interlocked. "I don't really want to head home too quickly." Natsuki mentioned after a long bout of silence. "Let's take the scenic route then." Yuri began to walk Natsuki through the bushy path that led to a park filled with beautiful large trees and a garden filled with flowers. It was beautiful at this time in the evening and it was a place that Yuri would visit frequently and it always managed to calm her nerves.

Yuri brought Natsuki to a bench and they both sat, "Did you bring a book you haven't read yet?" Yuri asked, fishing around her bag for the 4th installment in a book series she was passionate about. "Nah, I've read practically my whole collection." Natsuki puts her bag on her lap and opens it, "That's what makes me a pro manga connoisseur!" She giggles triumphantly and Yuri smiles gently at the sight of her acting like her usual self and even blushes a bit at Natsuki's use of a word she'd clearly learnt from Yuri.

"But reading the same stuff is kinda bumming me out." Natsuki adds, Yuri thinks for a moment before remembering how Sayori left all her notes in the first volume of the book series Yuri was about to read the 4th volume for and digs in her bag, "I know it's probably very boring to you but I have the first book of my series if you want to read that." Yuri fishes it out and rests it on her lap.

Natsuki looks down at the dusty old novel filled with coloured sticky notes and cringes at it, knowing it'll be too much for her to really want to grasp but then she thought of something. "If I read that, you have to read the first edition of my favourite manga." Natsuki, in turn, fishes around in her own bag and pulls out the first manga in a set; the cover has cute girls in cute outfits, all of it is amazingly eye catching and pastel and it's a little bit intimidating to Yuri at first glance but they both take each other's books.

"Crap!" Natsuki's phone rings and she quickly pulls it from her pocket, breaking Yuri's sudden immersion in the manga and snapping her attention to the other girl. Natsuki walks away, talking into the phone for a minute and then coming back, "I have to head home now." Yuri nods and they both silently put each other's books into their respective bags to continue reading them at home. They each have their bags swung over a shoulder and their pinkies interlocked again as they walk.

About 20 minutes later, they've made it just a block away from Natsuki's place and suddenly, Natsuki wraps her arms around Yuri, "Y-you really should ask before doing touching someone without permission!" Yuri yelps out, but slowly puts her arms around Natsuki and that moment of shock fades. "Thanks." Natsuki mumbles, "Of course." Yuri replies, still timid and just as fast as Natsuki's warm arms were around Yuri, they were gone, leaving Yuri a little dazed as she watched the other girl walk down the sidewalk.

"I'll kill you if a single page gets bent!" Natsuki yells, making Yuri blink and then she realizes Natsuki's manga was still in her bag and reaches out her arm to give it back but then, she stops herself and walks home...

Could this be the start of a budding friendship? Or maybe even, a budding romance?! Find out more next time when the chapters release!

[twstyuna]

Gifts

Characters: Deuce Spade, Yuu/MC, Ace Trappola, Grim

Summary: Contracts have consequences, and Ramshackle houses ghosts that staff NRC.

Notes: Yuu's still dead. Warnings for brief imagery/implied gore of what happens when a person gets left in the mines with a Giant Blot Monster. Happy Valentines haha

Ao3 Mirror | Masterlist of other Stuff | Last

He'll probably get collared, when he gets back

He should probably care more about that. Maybe he will, once it's on his neck.

Deuce is mindful of his grip as he puts one foot in front of the other. White roses sway with every step. The cold of the bottle numbs his hand.

He didn't finish going through all the rules. He meant to get started on them yesterday. He wanted to have a good start, only. . .

. . . he didn't get to reading them, but there was probably some rule against cutting down the flowers in the hedge maze. He hopes nobody will miss them, but even if he gets in trouble, this feels like the least he can do.

Ramshackle comes into view, rising weatherworn and desolate on the hill.

Deuce keeps moving. Keeps walking.

It would have been worse to come here empty-handed.

He walks past the gates, past the graves. The stones are too old for any of them to be new, the grass too smooth.

(Maybe the Headmaster did that, to hide it. Maybe the mage could age the stones and grow the grass to cover it up. Who would even notice another grave here? Would he even know if he saw it? He's never even seen Yuu they spell their name.)

Deuce climbs the steps of the hill.

(For all he knows, the Headmaster could have buried Yuu beneath his feet, beneath the stone path, and he wouldn't even know.)

Yuu and Grim lived here, in Ramshackle. He's pretty sure they mentioned that, yesterday. . .he doesn't know what happened to Grim, after he and Ace returned to Heartslabyul. Maybe Grim still lives here. Maybe the cat's around, and could use some company, until he has to go to class. . .

Too soon, Deuce runs out of stairs. He stands before the abandoned building. He feels like shit as he stares at it, and he can't tell if he's pausing to catch his breath or hold it, but at least he can breathe. He raises his head, looking at the ancient door-

It swings open.

And he sees Yuu.

Deuce stands there, winded from the walk, sweat cooling on his brow, heart pounding. He clutches flowers and a drink for the dead, and the dead blinks at him.

"Hi Deuce. Morning!"

They smile, like they're pleased to see him. His tongue is lead and his lips glued and the silence stretches but his eyes don't open any wider to show him the ceiling of his dorm and leave him on his bed.

Yuu's eyes flicker down awkwardly in his silence, and he follows their gaze to his hand. He lifts the offerings mutely then, because what else can he do?

"Oh, are these for-?"

Yuu takes them, the cheap grape juice from Sam's, the stolen flowers, and their fingers are cold but there when they brush against his. Yuu looks at the blooms, the bottle. Their cheeks look pink, healthy and not smeared with blood or dirt, as they hold the messy little bouquet up. He can see their teeth through the stems, when he could have sworn he saw them scattered on the cavern floor.

"Thank you," they say softly, smiling up from the roses and at him. "I've never gotten flowers before."

Deuce bites his tongue, but he still doesn't wake up. Yuu looks at him, their eyes clear and bright and there. The joy dims though-

"Are you okay? You look um- did you get caught by curfew?"

He should answer. It's rude, not to-

"Are you-" he croaks, "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. . .I think. Didn't sleep much last night but that's probably cause I was knocked out for so long. . .guess you didn't get much rest either?"

He'd tossed and turned and wondered how things got so bad. Wondered if he should call his mom, if he even could-

"No," he says, looking at them, and what did it mean, that they were actually here? He didn't imagine last night right? He couldn't have. Isn't that's why he came here- he could give them some peace and get some too? But they look fine-

"Hey," he mumbles, and his own voice sound distant. This feels like a dream. "Last night-"

"I'm-! I'm really sorry for passing out during the job! I hope I didn't get in the way too much. Must have been a bother to drag me out then get the stone then call the Head-"

"Stone," he echoes dumbly.

A bit of nervousness seeps into Yuu's face. "Yeah! You know, that crystal for the chandelier. . .you guys did get it right?"

They didn't, but he can't scrape together a response before their smile drops completely. They look horrified.

"Were you guys expelled?"

Are the dead supposed to be this lively? Yuu frets. Yuu talks, as they turn all around and seem to pace in place, unsure where to go or what to do first. They speak quickly and It's nothing like the wet, ragged sound they made when-

"I'm so sorry, I'll talk to the Headmaster! I'll tell him I got in the way- it's probably my fault that you guys - well, maybe he'll give you and Ace another chance! Gosh why I didn't I ask oh, hold on I'll just, um- Ace!"

The boy appears from somewhere down the hall. He looks. . .worse than Deuce does, actually. Why is he here? Did he also come, to pay his respects? Or was- was this some kind of prank? Ace looks terrible though, not a laugh in him-

"Ace," Yuu says, frantic in a way that has the boy snapping to attention. "you didn't get the light rock?"

"The what?"

"The chandelier stone! Magic stone! Whatever you call it! He said you'd be expelled if you couldn't find it! Does he know-?"

"He told us to go back to Heartslabyul," Ace says calmly, tiredly.

Yuu stops. "He did?"

"Yeah," Deuce says. "I don't think that I'm expelled?" He and Ace weren't kicked out yet, at least.

"Oh that's-" Yuu stops. Their face goes pink again. "That's a relief. That's good! Um, congrats on being students?"

"Thanks," he says lamely.

Yuu smiles. "Well um, I should probably put these away- thanks again for the get-well gift! Or the uh, housewarming gift or um- j-just thanks! I'll go get a vase and- oh, did you want to come in? I can grab some cups and we can share the juice now, if you want Ramshackle's pretty far from. . .everything, you look like you could use some sugar-"

"We should get going," Ace says. He shoulders past them, instead of through, out the building. Red eyes meet his. "Right, Deuce?"

". . .right."

"Right," Yuu says. "Right right right. Students! Students. . . don't want to keep you. Good luck then! See you around!"

They wave awkwardly, with their hands full, and try to close the door behind them. It doesn't stick, Deuce can see them through the crack, their muffled voice calls Grim and gushes about gifts-

The door closes.

Ace closed it.

Ace looks at him, his clothes rumpled, his makeup smudged. Ace lets go, and starts to walk down the hill. Deuce watches him go for a bit, then quickly shakes his head and follows.

"Hey-"

Ace goes faster.

"Hey, I'm-"

He catches up to the redhead by the gate, when the guy stalls by the tombstones. His feet crunch on the tall grass.

Ace turns his head. "You saw them right? In there?"

"Yuu? Yeah I- I did-"

"And last night," Ace says on, his eyes wide, wild. "You saw, right? That they-"

He does something with his hands. Deuce doesn't know if the guy's trying to show them crushing or grinding or dragging but he must have made a face because Ace stops.

Ace saw it too then, so it wasn't some nightmare-

Ace groans as he buries his face in his hands. "This. Is so fucked up."

". . .isn't it good, that Yuu's-?"

"I," Ace says slowly, voice dropping low. "Washed their brain off my hand last night. And they," he stresses, "Think they just fell asleep!"

"Are you sure they're not- they looked fine, right? The Headmaster had them, maybe he managed to-"

Ace looks at him like he's an idiot. He feels like one, when he remembers finding them. The thing had dragged them by their leg. Their head scraped against the ground, their jaw had-

"Didn't the Headmaster bring them back?" he mutters.

"I don't know."

"D-do they want something? So they can move on?"

"I don't know!"

"Well what do you know?!" Deuce's fists curls into the boy's shirt. "Why are you here, anyway-!"

"Because our asshole of a housewarden collared me!"

Ace's hands try to pry his off, but Deuce holds him in place. There are shadows beneath the guy's eyes, enough to make him look closer to a corpse than Yuu. He has a look that would have had Deuce wiping off his face with a fist if he weren't at NRC. What Ace doesn't have, despite the public reminder Rosehearts made that morning about food spoilage that stood out strangely from the rest of morning announcements, is a collar.

Is it supposed to disappear overnight? But didn't Dorm Head Rosehearts say only he could unlock it-

Ace wrests himself free and shoves Deuce away in his distraction. He glares as he backs into the fence, hand smoothing out his shirt and tie, and his narrowed eyes go wide as they pat around his neck.

"Huh. You guys are still here?"

Yuu walks over to them, eyes on the steps. They have a basket, and Grim's in there, tucked under a blanket, fast asleep.

Yuu frowns at them. "Won't you guys be late for class?"

Ace pushes through the gate. "I was just going."

"O-okay. . .uh, bye Ace! Stop by anytime!" Yuu says, waving through only Ace's back faces them. "I'll try to clean the place up better before then. Same goes for you, Deuce!"

He stares at them, how they stand on unbroken legs in the daylight. "Are you. . .going somewhere?"

"I'm gonna look for the Headmaster. I thought he was gonna come by here and tell me what chores he wants me to do today, but maybe he forgot? Hopefully he's in his office. Kinda don't want to see him since. . .you know. . . carried. . .me. . . but ah ha-ha, better peel the bandage off that and maybe I'll stop cringing when I think about it!"

They smile in a way that doesn't reach their eyes, like being carried to Ramshackle is asleep is truly the worst fate that could have beheld them.

"Yuu."

"Yeah?"

"Did Ace have a collar, when he came here?"

"Yeah, he did. Why?"

"How'd he get it off?"

"It just. . .sorta disappeared? I was holding it and trying to look at the lock then it just- poof !"

Their hand widens at that last word. They really are a lively person, so much so that he feels even more exhausted, looking at them, and wow Deuce, complaining about someone you left to die in the mines being lively, isn't that nice of you?

"You okay?" Yuu asks, and he feels even worse. "You can go back in and rest, if you want. I cleaned up the couch! I don't know if school here works the same but I could try asking the Headmaster if you could get an excuse letter for today? Was thinking of getting one for Ace too, since last night we were kinda out super late because the principal told us to do stuff. I think it's worth a shot to ask and I'm talking too much, probably, don't let me keep you don't want you to be late-"

Yuu crosses the gate, walking backwards.

"I don't know when I'll be at Ramshackle, don't know my schedule yet but drop by whenever! Just if you want to though, no pressure, thanks again for the gifts and uh, bye!"

They have a hand raised, as they look at him sheepishly.

He raises his hand in return, and they beam.

Yuu disappears down the path, speedwalking instead of flying, and Deuce belatedly notices the white blob bobbing their hair, the white petal on the cobbled ground.

. . .dead or not, hopefully Yuu won't get collared, for having a stolen rose on them.

[blackjackkent]

OK. Iron Throne time!

This is one of those things that is a) mildly easier with the extra person we have in our squad and b) not really THAT different from how it went with Hector, so I'm not going to play-by-play the mechanics again.

However, there are a few differences between this scenario and how it ran for Hector, starting with the voice that pops into Rakha's head as soon as she arrives:

"Halt."

Narrator: A cold, suckering wetness grasps at your mind. A voice, familiar to you from the Underdark, wraps itself around your brain.

"You must act with haste. Duke Ravengard is held within these walls. He must be extracted."

Unlike Hector, Rakha did not accept any help from Omeluum in the Underdark, so this is not a familiar voice in any respect. It in fact takes Rakha a few precious seconds to place it - the illithid from the myconid colony who offered to investigate the worm in her head. What in all the hells is it doing here?

But that question doesn't even matter, because what it says is far more important.

Duke Ravengard is held within these walls.

A flicker of adrenaline pulses like lightning through her veins. Wyll's father is here, and still alive. Mizora didn't kill him when the pact was severed. They can still rescue him.

But the water is pouring in fast.

"Tell me what to do," she responds inwardly. She is conscious out of the corner of her eye of Wyll's eyes going wide and his breath quickening.

Images flicker through her head - of rusted steel walls and locked doors, and lizard-like creatures patrolling.

"Duke Ravengard is held in the security wing," Omeluum intones. "Be careful. There are many hazards. This structure is collapsing. Act with speed. Act with efficiency. Good luck."

-----

So here's the thing.

None of that dialogue made it at all clear that Omeluum is actually a) here or b) in danger. All it said was that Ravengard is and needs to be extracted. And actually finding Omeluum requires you going way out of your way and through a locked door in the facility.

And Rakha talked to it in the Underdark for a total of about ten seconds and DID NOT trust it at all.

Much as I hate to say it, I don't think she would be at all compelled to hunt for and save Omeluum despite it appearing as an item in the quest log. (Omeluum is a bro and I love it and Hector did save it, but I just can't see why Rakha would even realize she could try just from this dialogue, let alone necessarily wanting to.)

Her focus, in any event, is entirely on the Gondians and on Ravengard. So let's get to work.

-----

We have eight turns to play with (in D&D speak, about 48 seconds of real-time, which is definitely a fact that breaks down a little in this scenario if you try to look at it too closely).

Lae'zel has the fastest movement speed, followed by Minsc, so they are on Gondian retrieval duty, while Jaheira clears the entryway and Rakha and Wyll go after Ravengard.

Haste potions for everyone except Jaheira, who is being kept on the task that requires not much moving around because I love her to death but she is SO slow. (The game claims she has the same movement speed as Rakha and Wyll but I don't buy it; she ALWAYS seems to be moving slower than everyone else.)

Lae'zel and Minsc and Jaheira's portions go off without a hitch, more or less. (Truly the most exhausting part of this whole process is watching the three billion turns go by of the tons of sahuagin that start spawning and all the Gondians trying to run away and eliciting every attack of opportunity in their path.) I am rather proud of some strategic stuff I did with making use of my character pathing to elicit reactions from the sahuagin and make it safer for the Gondians to get out. :D

Shoutout to the one Gondian who thought it was a good idea to PUNCH AN OIL BARREL on his way out. I truly do not know why he did this, but it set off an explosion which then a) damaged his comrades and b) triggered the lever to shut the door he was trying to get through to leave.

???? Why.

-----

CORRECTION from later in the fight - it apparently caused BOTH doors on the pathway out to both shut and LOCK. And the levers to open them are both on the inside where none of my controlled characters are. Let the bards sing of Featherweight Falson and his utter idiocy for centuries to come.

The Gondians had better all be lining up to give me a real nice evening after this. I did manage to get them all out in spite of their idiocy; the strategy involved Lae'zel taking two of her three attacks to smash the first door down and then shooting an arrow at the lever to open the second. I also spent a lot of healing potions on these dumbasses.

But I did it!8

-----

Anyway, Wyll and Rakha's portion is where the interesting stuff happens.

As soon as Wyll opens the door on Ravnegard's cell, an unsettling, rolling burst of laughter rolls through the air around them. Mizora's laughter.

Rakha shudders involuntarily, but the adrenaline and the effects of the potion she swallowed don't allow her to slow down. She can see that Wyll has gone wide-eyed, frantic, yanking the door open to let his father free.

I think Rakha can probably tell immediately that Ravengard is charmed. The game shows it as a bunch of light strings sort of puppeting his body, and I'm guessing Rakha, with her sensitivity to the Weave, can see it too. So she's already on her guard and hurling a health potion at Ravengard to try and prepare him as the devil herself shimmers into view.

"Wyll, my pet..." she purrs, malice in her eyes and her smile. "I was hoping you'd bound along. A bargain's a bargain. And I've come to see it through."

She looks past Wyll towards Ravengard who is still standing just past the door of his cell, trembling and blank-eyed. "Mea furia," she snarls. "Kneel for me!"

Slowly, jerkily, Ravengard stumbles, then falls to one knee, staring at Mizora's feet.

"What are you doing?" Wyll hisses, his voice full of fury and desperation.

Mizora clicks her tongue, mock-innocent. "Exactly what you asked for," she says brightly. "Now stand back and enjoy the show!"

She vanishes, and in her place appear a horde of magic-glittering spiders, which descend on Ravengard.

-----

Wyll and Rakha, in keeping with the fact that both of them are in High Adrenaline mode at the moment, managed to have a pretty badass little sequence here on their next turn.

Rakha hurled another health potion on Ravengard, then darted out of the room to clear the AOO from the Sahuagin blocking the door. Wyll used the help action Ravengard to free him from his compelled kneel, then Eldritch Blasted all the nearest spiders to knock them out of AOO range and kill some of them before they could burst on his father.

And then everyone ran like hell.

And you know what? I know I'm on easy, I know, I know - but I did some pretty smart stuff here and I got everyone out and I'm proud of myself. :P

-----

(For some reason, when everyone escapes, this cutscene always puts Minsc in the driver's seat no matter how I order the party or who was actually the last one out of the Iron Throne. I had to do a temporary save leaving him behind in the exploding prison in order to make the cutscene use anyone else - specifically Wyll who was who I wanted.)

Wyll hurls himself behind Rakha up the ladder, soaked in the briny water that is now flooding the last corners of the shattered Iron Throne. The Gondians are out. His father is safe. With a last wrenching effort he pulls himself into the submersible and lets the hatch fall shut behind him.

Ravengard stands at the window, watching the prison fall away behind them. Seeing Wyll out of the corner of his gaze, he turns and meets his son's eyes in silence. Then he turns, wordlessly, and takes a seat, leaving Wyll to look out through the reinforced glass alone.

Behind them, the last charges detonate within the Throne's carcass. Chunks of broken stone and metal burst out in all directions as the submersible slips away into the dark water.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

PURLY FLUFF ANYTHING PLEASE!!!

Workin' On A Project

A/N: This was pretty self-indulgent, so I'm gonna put these two together and hope that y'all enjoy this as much as I did. I really love writing these two and look forward to being able to write for them more often in the future! If you a smidge of Tarry at the end...well maybe you see something, maybe you don't. Who knows?

Pony shuffled his feet, waiting for the door to the Shepard house to open. He squeezed the strap to his backpack, tossed haphazardly over his shoulder and filled with everything he’d need for the History project, and looked down at the porch. The sound of muffled yelling and footsteps came from inside and Pony looked up as the door began to open, only to be met with Tim Shepard instead of Curly.

Tim raised an unamused brow and leaned up against the door frame, looking over Ponyboy through the screen door. He took a long drag of his cigarette. “You want something, Curtis?”

Pony cleared his throat and spun a little to show Tim his backpack. “Curly and I got a project to work on. He said I could come over today and we’d work on it.”

“He said that?” Tim echoed in a mocking tone, blinking owlishly and not moving from the doorway. “Well, shoot, I guess if Curly said so.”

“Tim! I said I’d get it!”

Curly’s voice was accompanied by his footsteps thundering down the stairs and he came into view only a moment later, with bare feet and ungreased hair, shoving his brother away from the front door and opening the screen door. Tim muttered something in Spanish Pony couldn’t quite catch before he walked away and Curly snapped back in Spanish as he dragged Pony inside by his sleeve.

“If now’s a bad time,” Pony started, looking between Curly and Tim’s retreating figure, “I can come back later or we can just work on this at school.”

“It ain’t a bad time, Tim’s just being an’ asshole,” Curly said. He raised his voice at the end and Pony could hear Tim muttering quietly as Curly pulled him toward the staircase.

Curly went up first, keeping one hand on Ponyboy’s sleeve as he led him upstairs, taking the familiar path back to his bedroom. The Shepard house wasn’t big by any stretch of the imagination, none of the houses in greaser neighborhoods were, but it had two floors and three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a big living room. Angela had her own room, but the two boys shared a bedroom, all three of them choosing to avoid their parents’ old room.

Angela’s door was closed as Curly tugged Pony along, but Curly gave three sharp raps anyway and Angela shouted out something else in Spanish that Pony didn’t catch.

“Why can't y'all ever talk in English? Do you have to talk in Spanish all the time?” Pony muttered as he pulled away from Curly’s grip and adjusted his backpack over his shoulders.

Curly grinned wolfishly. “Por supuesto, muñeco. Es mas divertido.”

Ponyboy rolled his eyes. Curly, undeterred, continued down the hallway and pushed open his bedroom door, ducking inside without waiting for Pony. The youngest Curtis followed anyway and shook his head as Curly flopped down onto his bed. Pony took a seat on the floor and tugged out his textbooks, spreading them out on the floor in front of himself.

“What are you doin’?” Curly asked from above him.

“Gettin’ our project stuff together,” Ponyboy reminded without looking back. “It’s due by the end of the week and it’s already Tuesday.”

Curly’s fingers brushed over the side of Ponyboy’s neck and he only jumped a little bit, startled by the gentle touch as he glanced back at the greaser to find him smirking.

“You didn’t think I invited you over to really work on that project, did you, Ponybabe?”

Of course not. Ponyboy wasn’t that stupid. But this project had to get done and Ponyboy was going to get it done, regardless of whether or not Curly helped out. He batted away Curly’s hand as the hood started to trace the shell of his ear and began to flip through the bulky history textbook.

“We’ve gotta read these pages,” Ponyboy said pointedly, tapping at the assigned passages and reaching for his notebook. “Then we gotta answer all the questions she put up on the board. You remember those?”

“You’re jokin’.”

“She talked about ‘em for twenty minutes, Curls, you’re tellin’ me you don’t remember them?”

“I remember you were wearin’ that one green shirt you got, made your eyes look greener than they normally do.”

“Shut up.”

“What? I’m tellin’ you what I remember!”

Ponyboy sighed and pulled his textbook closer. He scanned the two pages quickly before scrawling his name across the top of a fresh page in his notebook.

“You’re not gonna add my name?” Curly asked, poking at the back of Ponyboy’s head.

“Are you gonna keep botherin’ me?”

Curly huffed and withdrew his hand. Ponyboy waited a moment before adding Curly’s name to the header.

They sat in silence for a minute, Pony starting to answer the questions they’d been assigned and Curly staring at the ceiling, sprawled out in his bed. The peace only lasted a minute. Curly ran his fingers over Pony’s neck again and toyed with the collar of his shirt, slipping his fingers beneath it and reaching for Pony’s collarbones.

“Curly,” Pony chided, shoving the middle Shepard’s hand away. “We’re workin’ on the project.”

“You’re workin’ on the project,” Curly corrected. He slid his hand back and brushed his thumb over the spot beneath Pony’s ear, nudging at his chin. “I’m workin’ on gettin’ you up here with me.”

Ponyboy, to his credit, kept back the shudder of excitement as Curly tipped his head back, forcing Ponyboy to turn and face him. Dark cobalt met green-gray and Curly smiled, lazy and pleased.

“You wanna sit up here with me?” Curly offered, running his thumb back and forth over Pony’s jaw rhythmically. “We can work on that project later.”

“Your sister’s across the hall,” Pony murmured. He didn’t pull away. “Your brother’s downstairs.”

Curly raised his eyebrow and Pony realized just how similar he and his brother looked. “And?”

“They already don’t like me, Curly, you know that. I don’t need to give them anythin’ else to hate me for.”

Squeezing Pony’s chin once, Curly let go and shifted on the bed. “Get up here, ya idiot.”

Pony did as he was told. As he stood, Curly shifted to sit up against the headboard, leaving plenty of space for Ponyboy to take a seat. Pony sat by Curly’s feet, but after one look at the pouty look on Curly’s face, checked that the door was closed before sliding into the hood’s lap.

“Better,” Curly murmured. He reached up and cupped Pony’s face in his hands before pulling Ponyboy down into an uncharacteristically sweet kiss. Pony’s hands found Curly’s middle, resting over his stomach as he leaned into the kiss. When they broke apart, Curly gave Pony’s jaw another soft squeeze. “My brother an’ sister like you just fine, I promise you.”

“They got a funny way of showing it,” Pony mumbled. He tipped his face into Curly’s hands, pressing a kiss to the hood’s palm.

“They’re funny people,” Curly replied easily. “They don’t hate you. Honest.”

Ponyboy let out a small huff and closed his eyes for a moment, tucking his nose to the warm inside of Curly’s hand. He stayed there, breathing gently before he opened his eyes again and glanced at Curly through his eyelashes.

“Pony,” Curly whispered, voice low and soft. “For somebody who’s been actin’ like he don’t wanna do nothin’ with me, you’re lookin’ at me like you really wanna do somethin’.”

With a quiet laugh, Ponyboy leaned in to give Curly another kiss.

An hour or two later, as it was getting close to dinner time, Ponyboy pulled himself away from Curly, causing the hood to let out a bothered whine. While they had spent the majority of their time in Curly’s bed, exchanging kisses and holding onto each other, Ponyboy had managed to get the majority of the project done. After bribing Curly with a few kisses, the hood allowed Ponyboy to continue working on the history assignment, provided that Curly could hold onto him and press the occasional kiss to his neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Curly asked as Pony climbed out of his bed. Curly’s voice was rough and he blinked in confusion as Pony started to shove the books on the floor back into his backpack.

“Home, Curls,” Ponyboy replied in an equally rough voice. “Darry wants me home by dinner and I don’t wanna get screamed at for comin’ home late.”

“You want me to walk you home?” Curly asked, pushing up onto his elbows and swinging his legs off the bed.

Pony shook his head and swung his backpack over his shoulder, eyes scanning the floor to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. “You don’t have to. Wouldn’t want you gettin’ jumped on the way back cause it’ll probably be dark by then. Ain’t like I got to walk far anyway, we only live a few blocks over.”

Curly flashed a smug smile. “Anybody who tries jumpin’ me’ll get exactly what they deserve.”

Snorting, Pony pushed weakly at Curly’s chest, smiling when the hood flopped dramatically onto his back. “Easy, killer. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at school, alright?”

“Alright,” Curly replied, smiling back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Pony bent to give him one more quick kiss before he turned to leave, waving quickly before slipping into the hallway and hopping down the stairs. He headed for the door, shifting his backpack over his shoulder when Tim’s voice sounded from somewhere out of sight.

“Curtis, hold up.”

Not having a death wish, Ponyboy stopped and turned, looking for the eldest Shepard. Tim appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, another cigarette between his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor, kid,” Tim said, blowing smoke out from the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Next time you come over, bring your brother.”

Pony blinked. “Which- which one?”

Tim huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes like the answer to Pony’s question was obvious. “The big one.”

“Darry?” Ponyboy asked. “Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Tim took another long drag of his cigarette. “Now get outta here ‘fore that brother o’ yours comes down here lookin’ for you.”

Pony nodded jerkily and continued to go for the door, closing the heavy one behind him and letting the screen door slam shut on top of that. Whatever was going on between Tim and Dare…Pony didn’t want to know. He shook the thought from his head and started down the sidewalk, heading for home.

[danytrun]

Part 1 of my stupid little story 🤭

Anyways, I'm new to it, so any criticism is very appreciated!

I tried to make this as realistic as possible? Like, how the real Bullworth would be like to a new kid?? And it's not anything extraordinary, the main character is basically a nobody. I'm not sure if that makes the story boring or not, but that's how i wanted it to be 🥰

(I don't know how to start this so just scroll down and enjoyyy 🫶)

I practically jumped out of my bed at the sound of my alarm, comically letting out a yelp. I sat up, slamming the 'stop' button on my alarm clock, silencing the annoying ring. With a quiet sight, I ran my hands over my face, my pale skin stretching a little before snapping back in place when I dropped my hands onto the bed. I stared at the my dangling legs for a second, feeling like I just ran through hell and back. Though, I had to end my self pity moment quickly, getting up for the first day at Bullworth Academy.

As if my mom finding another boyfriend wasn't enough, they moved in together and sent me to a new school. I heard the place was filled with lunatics and maniacs, it didn't set a good impression. I had to spit out the thought with the toothpaste, before taking a sip water to cleanse my mouth out.

It was a boarding school, I knew that, and my mother said it was the only school close enough for me to walk to. She was obviously just too lazy to drive me there.

The sound of Grace's, my mother's, voice startled me out of my state, and I snapped my head towards the sound. "Danny! Come eat!" I quickly pulled on the AC/DC shirt over my other long-sleeved shirt and ran out of my room, slamming the door behind me.

When I got to the kitchen, I slumped down onto the chair, my brown eyes focusing on Steve, my precious brother. He had to move aswell, leaving his greaser gang behind in Texas.

Though, before he could command me to not oggle at him, I turned to the cereal in front of me, stuffing my face with fruitloops.

I knew that Steve didn't like me, so I didn't bug him. But no-one actually like me. I was a nobody at my previous school and I bet I will be a nothing in this school. And that didn't sound bad. I won't have people pestering me around. I would live a calm life, I hoped so.

"Now hurry, Danny." Grace smiled at me warmly, leaving a small peck on my cheek. "I'll visit you next month, honey" With those words, she straightened up, her hands leaving my shoulders. I nodded and stepped out of the house, taking a breath of fresh air. My digits instinctively went down into my pockets and I loosely followed Steve to school. He made sure that he didn't want to walk with me.

I stared at the ground as I walked, trying to avoid everyone and everything as I approached the school. When I finally lifted my innocent gaze towards the school gate, I was instead greeted with Steve, looking down at me with one of his signature glares. His brown eyes were pointed directly at me, and his gaze could burn a hole in paper if he tried hard enough. It scared me a little, but I just stared up, waiting for something, anything to happen.

"You won't talk to me, look at me or even breathe near me, you hear me?" He growled out, making me lean back a little. "I don't want you ruining my first impression."

I nodded almost instantly, my eyes widely staring at his facial expression when he spoke. With that nod, he stood up and flashed me one last look before stepping into the school.

I just stood there for a second, the gears in my head turning as I proccesed what just happened. After a minute, I shook my head and stepped towards the school again. That was ususal by now.

Peeking through the gate slightly, I cleared the coast and stepped in. My pace quickened towards the school building.

It looked fine from the outside. The school paths were fine to walk on, and more greenery than I expected. Trees, grass, bushes. All that stuff.

As soon as I passed the students of the school, I focused on getting into the school. I pushed the school doors open. I felt like I was a fish out of water in here. Though, before I could get to the principal's office, someone bloked my way.

I turned my head away from the stairs that led upwards and blinked a few times at the two boys in front of me. "Hey, new kid." The blonde one greeted me, crossing his arms over his chest. As much as I wanted it to feel friendly, it didn't. "Empty those rich pockets of yours." The other one barked out, looking like a feral dog with that messy orange hair and dirty Bullworth uniform.

An instant paranoid look crossed my face and I squirmed in my place. "I... uh.." I stuttered, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I didn't say anything, but I guess they took my simple 'uhh' as a challenge. The blonde one grabbed the collar of my shirt, making me rise onto the tip of my toes. "I know you have some money for us." His tone was threatening, and I couldn't help but comly.

As soon as I started scrambling with my pockets, he let me go. I took out a ten dollar bill, offering it to them, obviously frightened. My arm shook as the bill was snatched from my hand and firmly cheeked by the ginger bully. I looked at him, struggling to stop my eyes from glazing over, but I managed.

"See? It wasn't so hard, now, was it a new kid?" The orange haired kid snickered, smacking me on the shoulder. They exchanged a glance between each other and left, shoving past me to the main school entrance.

I let a breath out I didn't know I was holding, letting my brown eyes follow them as they left. Without second thought, I hurried up the stairs and stopped in front of the principal's office.

Great... I'll have to ask my brother for money now...

[stalkedbytrains]

Beneath the Electric Sky: Chain One Sequence Two: A Series of Minor Crimes

I introduced Io to Seth. There was already some tension there because I think Io realized he fucked up on the ride over.

"I'm Seth. You must be Io."

The pair shook hands.

"You got me," Io said. "You're the partner. Right, well you need someone to get inside and open a door?"

Seth bristled a little bit. It was clear he wanted to introduce himself as my superior or something more haughty and worthy of him.

"And you must be our conman. I'll be keeping my eye on you."

"Don't worry, you've got nothing I want," Io said as he gave himself a small tour of the apartment.

Seth scoffed. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah, I don't give a shit about new tech or whatever it is you're after. I wanted the dumbest, oldest stuff you can find. I was trying to steal a cybertruck."

My partner only got angrier. I quietly congratulated myself on picking the right person to bring in. Io could do the job and do it well, but pissing off Seth was a nice bonus.

Io was a pretty unassuming person. Average height, average build, average everything, which he would probably use to his advantage as not standing out in any significant way was something that could really work in his favor.

"What do you need to do this job?" Seth asked tensely.

"You have a hacker on staff? Because unless things have changed much more drastically than I'm aware of, Synthia certainly can't handle the asks. And no offense, Sep-"

"Seth."

"That's what I said. You don't look like you can hack your way out of this room."

I couldn't help but smile. "I missed you Io."

"Arc! Get in here! We've got a job for you!" Seth yelled.

Io moved next to me so he could conspiratorially whisper to me. "Arc? Really? Bit on the nose with that one don't you think?"

"I've always thought that," I whispered back.

The small in every direction tech walked into the room. If I was thin in a vaguely unhealthy way (I can't help my ultra-enhanced metabolism and the calories required to run this hardware) then Arc was deeply unhealthy. His hair was stringy and all over the place and the electronics poked out of the skin on his face, shoulders, arms, and hands.

He was also Seth's lapdog so I couldn't give a shit what he liked or cared for. He was supposed to do the tech support angle of this little trio and so far he had utterly failed to hold up his side of the job.

"Yeah, what's up?" Arc asked Seth, only looking to him for instruction.

"You're a hacker?" Io asked.

"Yeah, who are you?" Arc countered.

"Someone with a sense of style, Jesus," Io muttered mostly to himself but I heard it and cracked a smile. "I'm the conman. I need you to hack some emails for me."

"Oh, yeah, sure, it's not that this place is tighter than a nuclear waste dump site. I can barely peak at their servers, much less hack an employee's email. The Illuminated Path is next level."

Io rolled his eyes. "Then I suggest you find someone who can hack a single employee's email. It shouldn't be that hard to arrange a phishing scam or something. I thought you people were experts."

"Why the fuck do we need this asshole?" Arc asked indignantly.

"Because you assured me, multiple times, that you couldn't hack any of the security measures around the building, so I got us someone who can get me inside," I snapped at him. "If you can't get Io what he needs then I'm going to find someone else who can help me with this mission and I'll be sure to let Gareth know what dead weight you two have been."

"What do you want?"

Io shrugged. "A couple of back dated emails hiding in someone's folder. Preferably someone high up who is in charge of shipping and receiving. Then some angry emails from them into some subordinate's spam folder about a shipment that is overdue."

"What scam are you pulling?"

"A Trojan horse. I'm going to make a delivery and no one is going to look twice at me because we're playing the angry boss card. Oh and if you can get me a fake manifest and an invoice. Make them look good. If you make them look good enough and I get paid for the delivery then I'll count that towards my fee," Io said.

Arc opened his mouth to say something but Seth cut him off. "Do it."

"Fine. What are we delivering?"

"I'll let you know when we're done stealing it," Io said. "Synthia, let's go steal a truck or two."

"You want me to plant a bunch of emails for something I don't know what it is yet?" Arc asked.

"Well you're the one that said they've got top notch security."

"Synthia, stay with Arc, keep him on task. I'm going with Io," Seth said.

I scoffed. "You think I can keep the keyboard jockey on task? The little fucker never listens to a word I say."

Seth had a look on his face that looked like he tasted ass. Which was his default expression whenever I got my way.

"Fine. Check-in every hour. And we will be listening," Seth threatened.

"Sir, yes sir," I responded, saluting him with my middle finger raised. "Io let's go."

As we turned to leave, I heard Seth tell Arc to get to work, and to start pulling up files on anyone who might be connected to me named Lorelei.

Io was going to pay for that later.

[010·10]

"You work for a bunch of assholes," Io told me as we approached the overnight warehouse for one of the online distributors.

"Yeah I fucking know," I told him as I worked on punching a hole through the electric fence. "And now they know too."

"How the fuck do they know everything?"

"I've got just south of a trillion dollars worth of beyond top of the line technology in me. That kind of money and investment warrants a level of security that cannot be overwritten, ignored, or turned off. Everything I say and do is recorded in excruciating detail."

"Fuck," Io said once I was through the fence. "That's rough."

"Yeah, well. I'm sorry I brought you into this mess," I admitted. "Really. I'm sorry."

Io stopped halfway through the fence. "I truly don't think I've ever heard you apologize for anything."

"New body, new me."

"Well I appreciate seeing you again, getting into shenanigans again. And I'm sorry about before," Io said quietly, as if that would keep the myriad of sensor in me from picking it up. "I'll fix it, I promise."

I couldn't help myself. I shouldn't have been shitty but I had to do it. "I'll believe it when I see it."

After a few minutes of sneaking through the warehouse, dodging drones, and keeping out of sight of the one overnight, overworked, underpaid service worker, we found an access point that gave us manifests for everything being loaded on the trucks in the lot.

"Alright what would be easiest to con some... what are they again?" Io asked.

"Religious cultists and terrorists that are working with extremely illegal and bleeding edge technology. Working in most gene splicing and tech."

"Ah so religious scientists," Io said with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "Love that for them. We're going to need truck... let's see... eh... I think the one in row twelve slot b. Some centrifuges and other medical equipment. Should be helpful."

"Right, what are we standing around here for?"

"Well I'm going to drive, because you are always the worst driver, even now. Just... bad."

"Hey!"

"I also need you to steal me a uniform."

"That would make sense."

Breaking into the locker room and stealing a spare uniform was trivial and I did it in less than two minutes.

In fact, I made it back to Io and the truck he was supposed to be stealing before he had even managed to get the truck open.

"What were you saying about being better than me at this?" I asked.

"I was just waiting on you, the second we drive off things are going to start."

I rolled my eyes and waited for Io to get going. While I had nothing to do I messaged Arc that were were bringing medical equipment, and he should add that to his manifests and hacked emails and stuff.

"Alright we're good to go," Io said as the engine rumbled to life.

"We will be as soon as Arc is done doing his job."

my kofi that hosts early chapters

[tti-anonymousstories]

Program: Bluefire Wilderness Therapy

Record form: Edited journal entry (Edited for clarity, grammar, and spelling)

Approx Date: Feb 9th, 2020

Tw/Cw: Talk of ED, Physical intimidation, Restraint, Me being kind of an ass about ED (Only in the entry never said to her.) [Note written in for story context.] This will be a thread because this story spans multiple days and even weeks. These will be broken up by one post per day/entry.

DAY ONE

‘Today has been eventful, I didn't get out of bed at first and now AX is using it against me, placing blame and- anyway’ 

 [This is how I wrote it when I was 11.]

  ‘EL was stand-in chef but when I came out she said that I had to get the spread stick even though she has been stand-in because the ‘real’ chef was back, so that's my job now. The van got stuck in the mud and we had to push it until the tow truck got here to get it out and we had to walk down the road at Pano with our packs’ 

 [Panorama was one of the sites at Bluefire, it was very flat and spread out with a long path to the dirt road we were going to]

  ‘Once I got there I was the last ‘student’ to get in (Back row, far right seat.) I planned to work on my testing.’

  [It was psych testing- but here I go into a long elaboration of where everyone sat- all you need to know is that AL sat in front of me in a middle seat.] 

 ‘AL was complaining about being in the middle seat because “I do not want to elbow anyone.” Meanwhile, JL is drawing right next to her, not elbowing anyone. She asked me to move over, likely hoping I was zoned out (this would put me in the middle seat and her on the edge) I said no! At this point I was done with her shit- thankfully seniority benefits were gone because she used it to rig the pot schedule so even when she cut her food in half she wouldn't have to clear big pot.’

 [When you didn't eat your food you cleaned big pot.]

 ‘That happened about a week ago and it was just the straw that broke the camel's back apparently because I noticed it and it opened up the conversation in group, that combined with the carrot incident and other stuff it was enough for them to stop doing seniority benefits at all. Anyhow she gets upset enough we all have to get out of the van to re-arrange seating and have a ‘Standing group’ to share ‘I feel statements’ AL was guilt-tripping some shit and ended her statement by saying “And, I'm feeling suicidal.” But after that, we did enie-meanie-miney-moe to pick who got to sit where and she got a window seat but she still wasn't happy and refused to get in the van, while everyone else sat in the van she threw a temper tantrum changing the subject to big pot from the night before and talking shit about JL, she never said her name but she was making eye contact with her through the car door the whole time. A good old tantrum if you ask me. Also during standing group, she said that we were all putting the blame on her and that it was actually my fault, and that if I had gotten out of bed on time we would be on the road right now (even though I didn't set us back at all, and she would still be throwing a tantrum on the side of the road right now.) When we finally got her in the van I was writing (not elbowing anyone mind you.) She ‘Thanked’ us for not being able to call her brother for his birthday (not that we had any say in that.) Because she “Can’t” work on her accountability letter (She was actively writing). Bull. Shit. The only good part was the drive, there was a group of cattle that crossed the road with people on horses and dogs. [Apparently this is normal in Idaho??] 

When we got to the campsite we set up our tents, but banging the poles into the ground was fun. Then we got in the van and went to some dunes and you know what she does? She acts all buddy-buddy with me! “Isn't this fun?” “We should roll down it!” I ignored her. 

‘When we got back we needed to talk about the pot schedule, so we went to this pavilion at the campsite and- Shit. Went. Down. The first question was ‘Does the chef have to clean pots if it's burnt?’ -The answer was no, no big deal there. But the next question was ‘What if multiple people don’t finish their food?’ This is where it starts to go downhill. It starts with the punishment for both food waste and not eating minimum [8oz of the given food] to clean big pot and AL says “Well, I’m cleaning big pot every night because I can’t eat three meals a day” We came to the idea of five-minute increments. She said that since she would be cleaning big pot every night she didn't want help so it was amended to ‘Five-minute increments unless one person says they don't want help’ The next question was who was to clean a utensil if they used it to clean- but AL kept going back to “I will clean big pot every night.” And EL gets fed up and tells her that it isn't relevant and AL insists that it is. EL mocks her about it and gets up to walk towards her, “No the fuck is isn't relevant.” She starts getting up in her face. “I WILL FUCK YOU UP- I WILL FUCKING FUCK YOU UP!” She gets detained and says “I'm not gonna touch her.” they let her go and she storms off.