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songsformonkeys · 4 years ago

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Digging Up Bones (whiskey x f!reader) - chapter 2

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

Summary: You work for the Statesmen as the head of their medical department. It’s your job to patch up anyone who gets back wounded and to work on ways to prevent them from getting badly wounded in the first place.

Agent Whiskey, in particular, seems to be more accident-prone than the rest and he never passes up a reason to come see you, whether for real injuries or imaginary ones. The two of you form a close friendship, which slowly turns into something more.

Then a British man with a headshot wound and a fascination with butterflies shows up in your emergency room and in the events that follow you’re forced to reevaluate just about everything you thought you knew about your partner.

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Masterlist

Chapter 2

You hadn't applied for the job with the Statesmen. The Statesmen had found you. Fresh out of John Hopkins University, you had just gotten yourself a degree in medicine and had written a thesis on the possibilities of regrowing brain tissue after severe head trauma when they had approached you.

Your life had been fairly normal, if a bit boring according to others, up until that point. You had never been much of a social butterfly and you didn't really have much family or many friends. So you'd spent the majority of your college years either studying or volunteering for various experiments or science projects. Others had always seemed to pity you a bit for the uneventful and very much predictable way you lived your life, but you liked it. It was familiar and it was safe. Besides, you loved the field of medicine, and given the choice between reading about the deteriorating effect alcohol and drugs had on the human brain versus experiencing it first and second hand, you definitely preferred the former.

The plan had always been for you to stay within the world of the university, to continue to do research, and maybe even teach. But you know what they say about the best-laid plans...

Yours had gone awry when two men in Stetson hats and identical glasses had showed up to your graduation party. Well...party was a strong word for it. You had been having dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant, accompanied by your diploma and your iPad, when the two men had sauntered in. One had been an older, gray-haired man with a purple cravat tie and a slight underbite. The other, a dark-haired man with equally dark eyes and mustache. His collar had been popped and he'd been eyeing you, your diploma, and the iPad as if you were clues to a particularly curious riddle.

When the older of the two had introduced them you had immediately begun to wonder if this was some sort of joke. Champagne and Whiskey weren't real names and yet that had been exactly the names the older man had given. They had asked to join you at your table and you had been too curious to say no.

After some more pleasantries on their part and more confusion on yours, they had cut to the chase and explained why they were there. They had wanted to offer you a job. They had told you that they had been keeping track of you for a while now, something you had found immensely disturbing and that they needed someone with your set of skills and talents. You had never been one to fall for flattery though, especially coming from people who had just admitted to spying on you for the better part of two years.

In the end, it had been the video that did it. When the older man, Champagne, had realized that they weren't winning you over as smoothly as they'd hoped, he'd asked Whiskey to show you the lab. Whiskey had taken out his phone and pulled up a video on the screen before handing it over to you. As you watched the video, your jaw had dropped. Whatever this place was, it was like something from the future. You had spotted several machines that were so expensive you could only dream of using them. It was both a medical reception and a lab all in one. And, was that a room for surgery?

“All yours to play with, if you decide to join our medical team,” Champagne had said. It hadn't taken much convincing to get you to agree after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You remembered the first time you'd been to the headquarters too. Champagne...well, Agent Champagne as it turned out, had sat you down and told you the story of the Statesmen. It had all sounded insane at first but after he'd given you the tour, you had to admit that every incredulous detail was probably true.

He'd shown you to your office/reception and you had felt like you might cry. Just this room was bigger than your old apartment, and way fancier too. On top of your desk, there had been a set of white scrubs neatly folded, along with a lab coat. When you had picked up the coat you had noticed a gold nametag pinned to it.

“Moonshine?” you had asked.

“Everyone who works here has a moniker. We thought this one would be fitting.” You hadn't asked why. It was an absolutely ridiculous moniker but you had figured it had already been decided for you and therefore wasn't really up for discussion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few years, you worked tirelessly for the Statesmen, quickly advancing in the ranks and barely taking a day off. Why would you? This was your dream, and then some!

You had been offered an apartment off-site but it hadn't taken long before you'd managed to convince them to let you stay inside the HQ and you had moved what little furniture you had into one of the rooms adjacent to your office. Considering its padded walls and one-way mirror, it was most likely intended as some sort of cell but after you had moved your stuff in you had to admit that it was quite cozy. The mirror creeped you out the first night you slept there so the next day you covered it up with newspaper. In the years that followed it had slowly turned in to noticeboard where you'd taped up all kinds of stuff.

The Statesmen had let you practice medicine as well as continue your studies and you became a skilled trauma doctor and studied surgery along with your colleagues in the medical department. You saw more blood and bones and intestines than any normal person should but you found that you handled it quite well. Your curiosity and eagerness to learn kept the emotional aspect of the horrific things you saw at bay. Your bedside manners could probably have done with a bit of improvement but you worked with agents and you figured that if they needed you to coddle them then they had no business being in this line of work. Besides, you had your colleague Tonic whose expertise lay in the field of psychology and he was always happy to come along and soften anything you said, while still making you look professional. You enjoyed working with him.

Along with the people from the tech department, you also managed to expand on the subject of your thesis, and with the help of the seemingly limitless resources of the organization, your two departments were eventually able to present a product that was nothing short of revolutionary.

The Alpha-gel had been your brain-child for so many years and when you finally got to watch it being demonstrated to the other agents, you were so nervous that your entire body was shaking. Your friend Ginger had to put her arm around your shoulder to prevent your teeth from rattling, or perhaps she was worried you might topple over. You hadn't...but it had been a pretty close call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't long after the invention of the Alpha-gel that you had been asked to take over as head of the medical department when the previous one had chosen to retire. You'd said yes, of course, and you'd been walking on clouds for the rest of the day. It was only when you'd retired to your office that evening for some reading, that a feeling of sadness came over you.

It was at times like this that you missed not having a close family. You had grown up with foster parents and while they had been nice people, you had very little in common with them and when you had moved out to start college it had basically been understood by all parties that you wouldn't keep in touch much. You still sent cards on birthdays and holidays but that was it. They wouldn't understand something like this. Besides, even if you had wanted to tell them about this, you couldn't. It was all classified.

You had felt the same kind of sadness on the day of your graduation, immensely proud of your accomplishments but also suddenly very lonely, and just like that time, it had been a dark-haired agent in a Stetson that came to cheer you up.

“Come in!” you yelled at the knock on the door.

“...Can't! You gotta help me out, darlin'!” came agent Whiskey's response from the other side of the door.

“You better not have broken your arms again!” you called and set your book and marker down on your desk before walking over to the door.

“Arms are fine, just a little preoccupied!”

You didn't fully believe him. Out of all the agents, Whiskey was by far the one to seek your assistance the most. Whether it was for broken arms, concussions, torn muscles, gunshot wounds, burns, nausea, headaches or, which was the most frequent one, “ just a general feelin' of unwell, thought maybe best you check it out”, Whiskey seemed to show up at your office at least once a week with some ailment or another.

In the beginning, it had actually worried you enough that you'd secretly spoken to Champ about it, asking if it really was wise to let Whiskey out on so many missions when he always seemed to come back hurt from them. Champ had just laughed and given you a meaningful look. He'd told you that Whiskey was by far one of the Statesmen's most skilled agents and that he was fairly certain at least half of Whiskey's injuries were all in his head. Champ had said he suspected Whiskey mostly came for the company.

You'd read three books on hypochondria, that you'd borrowed from Tonic, over the next week and while Whiskey didn't quite fit the description you wanted to try and help him in the best way you could.

When you opened the door this time, though, there were no apparent injuries. Just Whiskey, balancing a plate with big, round chocolate cake in one hand and holding a bottle of liquor in the other.

“Whiskey, what...?” you asked, almost a little speechless.

“Heard about the promotion, figured we needed a celebration,” he grinned, as usual not waiting for your invitation before stepping into your office. He shook the bottle a little as he set the cake down on your desk. “Fetch us two of those plastic mugs you've got here somewhere.”

“I'll fetch you one. I don't like whiskey.”

“Oh darlin', you wound me!” he gasped and you rolled your eyes at him. Always with the theatrics. Whiskey definitely had a flair for drama. Though you had to admit, it was somewhat entertaining. And the fact that he was here tonight, having thought of you like this made something warm settle in your chest.

“The drink. You, I tolerate.” you shot back and Whiskey laughed.

You went and got him a plastic mug from the cupboard in the other room. When you got back he pulled two forks from his back pocket and patted the seat of your chair. You sat down and eyed the cake a little hesitantly.

“There aren't any almonds in this, right?” you asked. You weren't deadly allergic to them but the swelling and itching was something you would gladly never experience again.

“Should hope not, since I made very sure not to put any in there. Just for you.”

“You made this?” You hadn't meant for your voice to sound quite so incredulous but Whiskey took it in stride.

“Sure did, sugar!” he said and then added, with a wink, “I'm a man of many talents, most of which you constantly refuse to let me show you, despite me offering.”

“I view it as good practice for you to not always get what you want.”

Whiskey feigned a sigh.

“Well, they say distance makes the heart grow fond...”

“...so considering how often you show up here, I can't imagine that much fondness for me has grown at all.”

“Oh on the contrary, darlin'! If only you knew the kind of self-restraint that I show by only showing up here once a week.”

You laughed at his jokes and gently smacked him on the arm.

“Ap ap! Haven't you taken a vow not to do harm?”

“I promise to heal whatever I break. Now cake?”

“Cake,” Whiskey agreed and handed you one of the forks. There were no other plates besides the one the cake was already on so you assumed Whiskey expected you to just dig into the whole cake. It wasn't your preferred way to eat cake, too messy, but you were polite enough not to point that out. Instead, you dug up a small piece of cake with your fork. Whiskey was watching you expectantly as you took your first bite.

The cake was incredible and you held your hand in front of your mouth to tell Whiskey as much without showing him the half-chewed cake still in your mouth. His face immediately lit up as he smiled wide.

“I'm glad you enjoy it,” he said and watched you take another bite before joining you and taking a bite of his own. He was sitting down on your desk, next to the cake and when you looked down to make sure the cake didn't end up on his jeans, you noticed that he was sitting on a pile of papers.

“You're sitting on my report,” you pointed out. Instead of moving away, Whiskey simply spread his legs wider and tried to read upsidedown what could be seen of the text between his thighs.

“So I am, it seems,” he answered but still didn't move. Your fingers itched to move the papers from underneath him but you kept yourself in check. There was a bigger risk that the papers would crease or tear if you tried moving them now. As long as Whiskey stayed mostly still then maybe you wouldn't need to reprint all of the pages after he'd gone.

“Soo..., “ he drawled, “Head of the medical department. That's big, Moonshine. How's it feel?”

“It feels good,” you replied, “A bit scary. I'm not used to people expecting me to tell them what to do. What if I'm no good at it?” You looked up at Whiskey as you asked the question and he gave you a kind smile.

“You hardly need to worry about that. I've seen you patching up the most gruesome injuries. Cool as a cucumber every single time and handing out orders left and right. Everyone loves it when you take charge. You really don't need to wait for a life-and-death situation to do so. There isn't a single person more capable of running this department.”

You adjusted your glasses to hide your blush. They were not the same model as the agents' glasses. Instead, yours were a pair of almost round, wire-rimmed ones that Ginger had modeled after the glasses you'd worn even before you started working for the Statesmen.

“You're just biased because you know me better than the others,” you argued.

“Maybe,” Whiskey admitted, “Doesn't mean you can't trust me.”

“Actually, the very definition of biased means...” you began but Whiskey interrupted you by holding out his fork with a piece of cake towards you.

“Have some more cake,” he said. You glanced down at the fork, with a small frown.

“That's your fork,” you stated.

“Very observant,” Whiskey retorted and moved the fork even closer. He was giving you an expectant look and, after a few moments of consideration of the risks involved in swapping cutlery, you opened your mouth and let him feed you the piece of cake.

“I'm heading for New York tomorrow,” Whiskey told you.

“Oh...,” you said slowly and Whiskey smirked.

“Well, I'll be damned if that didn't sound like disappointment just then!” He looked way too smug for your liking. So what if there had been a bit of disappointment to your tone? Whiskey knew you didn't hate his company. And he must be aware that you let him get away with things none of the other agents would be allowed to. The excessive flirting, for one thing.

Tonic had once pointed out that it was curious how Whiskey was messy and pushy and loud and pretty much all the things you disliked and yet you hadn't stabbed him with a scalpel and even seemed to enjoy his company. You couldn't explain it either, though lord knows you had tried to figure out what it was about the other agent that had allowed him to get under your skin like this. It frustrated you to no end that you hadn't been able to come up with an answer.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, ignoring Whiskey's comment and stupid smile.

“A little over a week. Head of the New York office needs some assistance with a local art dealer that's up to some shady business.”

Whiskey reached for a piece of paper and one of your pens and quickly scribbled something down before handing the piece of paper to you. You glanced down at the note and the numbers he'd written down.

“I already have your number in the computer system, agent Whiskey.”

“I know but I figure that with this charming little note from yours truly lying on your desk you'd be more likely to actually use it.”

“You want me to call you?”

“Of course! Seeing as I won't be able to come and visit my favorite physician, I gotta get my fix somehow.” Whiskey winked at you and you looked down at the note again. You weren't sure how much healing you could do from across the country but if it made Whiskey happy that you would call and check up on him then you could do just that.

“Okay, I'll call,” you said and neatly put the little note under the edge of your keyboard so it wouldn't get lost. Even if playing along with Whiskey's hypochondria probably wasn't the best way to cure it, the smile he gave you when you said you'd call made it feel like you'd made the right decision. He poured himself another drink and managed to tip his hat at you all in one swift motion.

“Much obliged!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whiskey stayed for another hour or so, making small-talk and telling you about all the art-related stuff he'd had to learn for the mission he was leaving on.

When eleven o'clock rolled around you couldn't help but yawn and you quickly apologized to Whiskey.

“Don't sweat it, darlin'! It seems I've kept you up past your bedtime again. Let me walk you home.”

It was the same joke Whiskey had made hundreds of times before. The same joke he always made when he'd come to see you in the evening. The door to your room was literally two doors down from the room you were currently in but Whiskey always made sure to walk you there, even if the way out was in the opposite direction. In the beginning, you'd protested, unable to, wrap your mind around the logic behind it. After a while, however, you had decided, as you had with so many other things when it came to Whiskey, to just go along with it.

“What should we do with the rest of the cake?” you asked and looked around the room with a frown.

“Just put it in the fridge,” Whiskey said, pointing to the aforementioned refrigerator in the corner of the office.

“Whiskey, that fridge is for medical samples, not cake!” you protested and he just shrugged and rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“Fine! I'll take it back to mine. But then you gotta promise to go there and finish the rest of it.”

You promised, realizing you'd never been to Whiskey's apartment before. He didn't live in the Statesmen headquarters like you did but you knew his apartment was only a few minutes away, in the housing area where most of the agents and staff lived.

Whiskey picked up the cake and you quickly cleaned away any crumbs from your desk and tossed them in the trashcan before hanging up your coat on the wall.

“Do you own any clothes besides scrubs?” Whiskey asked curiously from over by the door. He was eyeing you from head to toe as if it was only now that he'd noticed the outfit you'd worn every single time you'd seen each other, apart from the first time that you had met.

“Sure, I do,” you answered, joining him and stepping out of the office, “I just rarely have a reason for wearing them.”

Whiskey nodded, looking thoughtful as you walked the few steps over to your door.

“Well, this is me,” you said, sticking to the usual script of this interaction.

“I don't suppose I get a goodnight-kiss as thanks for making sure you got home safely tonight as well?” Whiskey asked and leaned against the wall next to your door. He licked his lips and smirked when your eyes accidentally dropped to his mouth. Curse him and his jokes.

“The only danger to me down here is you and that persistent mouth of yours, Whiskey,” you replied and unlocked your door. “And I doubt kissing it would make it any less persistent.”

“I'd never hurt you, gorgeous, but I can't argue with that last statement. Lips like yours are hardly a one-time destination.”

You blushed. It annoyed you to no end that Whiskey always managed to do that. He just smiled and took a step back.

“I'm leaving at an ungodly hour tomorrow morning so I probably won't have time to swing by and see you before I leave. But don't forget to call me, alright?”

You assured him again that you would call him and then you quickly slipped into your room before he could make any further comments to make you blush. You heard him laugh through the door.

Getting ready for bed took no time at all. The room wasn't huge and with your bookshelves, armchair and closet it was a little bit crowded, although still with a homey feel to it. The bed was in the middle of the room, just like it was in all the other cells, and there was a sink at one end of the room and a shower at the other. The shower, you rarely used, opting instead for using the ones over by the training rooms.

You brushed your teeth over the sink, slipped out of the scrubs, and put them in the laundry bag. You felt your eyes drooping closed even before you were fully under the covers on the bed.

#whiskey/reader #whiskeyxreader #agent whiskey #kingsman golden circle fanfiction #kingsman golden circle #my fanfiction #female reader

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girlsbtrs · 4 years ago

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How Being a Woman in Hardcore Helped Me Learn to Love Myself

Written by Jen Moglia. Graphic by Laura Cross.

Since this is my first piece written for Girls Behind the Rock Show, I figured that I should introduce myself; hi, my name is Jennifer, but most people call me Jen. I live on Long Island in New York, and my favorite things include my cats, the color pink, giving gifts to my Animal Crossing villagers, and watching sports. Above all else, however, I love music.

I frequently refer to music as the love of my life. It somehow plays a role in everything that I do. I got my first iPod when I was five years old, stacked with everything from Miranda Cosgrove and Avril Lavigne to Tool and Deftones. Some of my favorite memories growing up are sitting in my pink and purple bedroom singing and dancing along to Paramore’s crushcrushcrush and Fall Out Boy’s Thnks Fr Th Mmrs on the local alternative radio station. I danced for 12 years, played cello for seven, and am currently a wannabe ukulele rockstar after buying one on impulse and starting to teach myself how to play four years ago. Even on the simplest, barely noticeable levels, music has been everywhere in my life for as long as I can remember; even now, I can’t complete a basic task without a song playing in my headphones.

Music became an even bigger part of my life when I started attending live shows. I went to my first concerts at age 10, seeing my two favorite artists - Nickelodeon boy band Big Time Rush and classic progressive rock band Rush - within one month of each other. By the time I was 15, I had been to my fair share of arena/seated shows with one or both of my parents, from Fifth Harmony to Fitz and the Tantrums to Alice in Chains. My first general admission show was seeing the Foo Fighters at Citi Field with both my mom and dad when I was 12, but my first pop-punk general admission show (yes, they’re different) came a few years later. I had the typical list of favorite bands that you would expect from a young teenager getting into alternative music: Neck Deep, Knuckle Puck, Real Friends, and State Champs.

In late 2018, I was able to see all four of these bands for the first time, and I am a firm believer that it changed the course of my life. I met, cried-during, and eventually got the setlist for Neck Deep at Stereo Garden on Long Island in September. I sang all of “Untitled” at the barricade for Knuckle Puck at SI Hall at the Fairgrounds in Syracuse in October. I had my first minor concussion scare (yay!) before Real Friends’ set at Irving Plaza in New York City in November. Finally, I crowd surfed for the first time during State Champs’ anniversary show for The Finer Things at House of Independents in Asbury Park in December. After just a few shows, I had fallen in love with this new brand of live music that I had just been introduced too. There was something so magical to me about skin covered in sweat and Sharpie marks, feet hurting from dancing in the pit all night, and meeting strangers on line outside the venue who would become your best friends and know your deepest secrets by the end of the night.

After making some friends at all of the pop-punk shows I was going to, they started to tell me that I should get into hardcore music. I was hesitant at first - the heaviest thing I had listened to at that point was nowhere near the snippets of hardcore that my friends had played for me - but, eventually, I decided to give it a chance. I was bored and home alone with nothing to do one night over the summer of 2019 when I listened to my first hardcore album, Laugh Tracks by Knocked Loose. Immediately, I got that gut feeling that you have when you know you’ve heard one of your favorite bands for the first time. I knew that this was something special that I was meant to find at this point in my life. For the rest of the summer, I worked my way through the rest of my friends’ hardcore and hardcore-adjacent recommendations, with Cost of Living by Incendiary, Stage Four by Touche Amore, You’re Not You Anymore by Counterparts, Time & Space by Turnstile, Springtime and Blind by Fiddlehead, Smile! Aren’t You Happy by Absence of Mine, Bad to my World by Backtrack, and Reality Approaches by Harms Way being some of my favorites. By the time the next school year started, I was hooked, and I already had tickets to my first few hardcore shows in the fall.

My first hardcore show was in November 2019, seeing Knocked Loose at Webster Hall in New York City - fitting, right? They were on tour supporting their new record A Different Shade of Blue, which I had become obsessed with the minute I heard it for the first time. Although I was ridiculously scared of getting stepped on and breaking all my bones (yes, that was an actual fear of mine), I had the time of my life at that show. There was something about this newer kind of live music that prompted a cathartic release, one that I hadn’t found anywhere else before. As soon as the show was over, I was counting the days until my next one.

My love for live hardcore music (and live music and hardcore music in general) has only grown since then, and that story sort of ends there. However, I want to go back to that first hardcore band that I listened to, Knocked Loose, and the album they put out that first summer that stole my heart. I was taken by storm as soon as the first notes of A Different Shade of Blue rang through my headphones, but something was different about the third track, A Serpent’s Touch, particularly the ending; I heard a voice that sounded a little bit more like my own.

This song features Emma Boster, who does vocals for one of my favorite hardcore bands right now, Dying Wish. When I heard A Serpent’s Touch for the first time, though, I had no idea who she was. I was used to the aggressive vocal delivery of frontmen in hardcore, particularly that of Knocked Loose’s Bryan Garris, but hearing it come from her changed my perspective on a lot of things. It’s not like the song was super angry and changed its tune to be lighter once the token girl came along; in her verse, Boster sings, “I watched the venom / Overcome your spirit / Jealousy holds you now / Distorting your appearance / Bleed out.” These were lyrics that held the same intensity that the lines screamed by the men held, and they sounded just as cool coming out of her mouth. As cheesy as it sounds, it had never even occurred to me that women had a place in this new world that I had discovered. The audiences in the live videos I watched (and eventually at the shows I attended) were made up of mostly men who looked bigger and older than me. When I did start going to shows, most of the non-man population consisted of my friends and I. Emma Boster, along with so many others, began to open my eyes to the fact that a place for people like me existed in this community. It didn’t matter that I had bright red hair or liked butterflies or wore pink - I was just as much a part of this magic as the men multiple feet taller than me with tattoo-covered arms, and I belonged there just as much as they did.

As time went on and I got more involved in the genre’s music and community, I discovered more bands with women in them, and it only fueled this fire of empowerment inside of me. When I felt insecure, I’d watch live sets from Krimewatch, a hardcore band from New York City, just half an hour away from my hometown. They have multiple women as members, including their energetic badass of a vocalist, Rhylli Ogiura. Year of the Knife became one of my all-time favorites, and their bassist Madison Watkins became a serious inspiration to me; the way that she can balance killing it on stage and running the cutest, most pink apparel brand I’ve ever seen (aptly titled Candy Corpse) amazes me. Even some of the bands I’ve found more recently have had an impact on me. I started listening to Initiate last year when their EP Lavender came out, and their beautifully colorful cover art caught my eye before I had heard any of their songs. Their vocalist, Crystal Pak, is also a woman, and she’s insanely talented. Discovering this kind of representation in this new universe that I had come to feel so at home in introduced me to a world of confidence and determination that I had never known before.

When people ask me why I love hardcore so much, I often give the easy answer; “the music sounds good.” If the person allows me to ramble on for a little longer, the answer becomes much more emotional and cheesy. Hardcore taught me that speaking up for what I believe in is important, and if there’s something I’m passionate about, it’s worth shouting about. I became familiar with this when listening to one of my favorite bands ever, Incendiary (the second hardcore band I ever checked out), before quickly realizing that politics are a pretty common topic within the genre - it’s what this music was practically built on. The first time I heard their vocalist Brendan Garrone singing about police brutality and injustice on songs like Force of Neglect and Sell Your Cause, I realized that there is so much more to music than just sounding good.

However, at its core, the thing I love so much about hardcore is what it taught me about being a woman. Growing up, I was the loud girl with the personality bigger than the room who always had something to say and had a never ending supply of excitement about just about everything. As I got older, I was taught that this was not okay. People didn’t like how enthusiastic I was about everything, or that I constantly had new ideas and new discoveries I wanted to talk about. As cliche as it sounds, I felt like everyone around me was trying to dull my sparkle, especially some of the men that I was encountering on a day-to-day basis. Even when I started to come to terms with my big and bright personality, in turn also coming to terms with my own femininity, I was told that this wasn’t how girls acted. I had to pick one - I could watch Disney princess movies and wear Hello Kitty hair clips, or I could be outspoken about my beliefs; but never both. The women that I mentioned earlier, along with so, so many more, helped me unlearn these toxic mindsets. Seeing someone like Emma Boster take the stage and scream ferociously for a full set helped me see that I could be a girl and still be a powerhouse. Following Madi Watkins around on social media showed me that I could love bands like Year of the Knife and also love heart-shaped purses and wear pink from head to toe. My aggression and passion didn’t make me any less of a woman, and my femininity didn’t make me any less of a force to be reckoned with.

So, at the end of this love letter to hardcore and the women who run it, I say this; thank you for teaching me that I don’t have to shrink myself anymore. It has made a world of a difference.

#jennifer moglia

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ficsilike-reblogged · 4 years ago

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Sunshine City: Five

A/N: We have reached the end, my loves. Thank you for coming along on this little journey with me. Thank you for all the wonderful comments, likes, and reblogs. I owe you my heart.

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating For This Chapter: NC-17 for Whiskey being Whiskey and putting his moustache to good use (female-receiving oral), penetrative unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, loves), just a whole bunch of mush because I love a sappy happy ending.

Catch up previous chapters here!

Perhaps learning that it was Agent Moonshine that had set them up shouldn’t have been a surprise. How many times had Jack “taught Moonshine a lesson” about manners—both in and out of the field? Moonshine had apparently been burning for some more-permanent payback and thought getting rid of Jack in the field would regain some of his honor.

Whatever.

Both Moonshine and Alice had disappeared into Statesmen’s holding cells about six months ago and Champ dealt with them. She didn’t ask what happened and she didn’t want to know. All she cared about was that Jack was okay and she knew what it felt like to have Jack’s arms wrapped around her without the confines of the mission and she knew that he liked to smile before he pressed his lips to hers.

She loved how he kissed. Loved how he held her tight like she was something—someone to be treasured. Loved how he always tried to make her smile even when they were thousands of miles apart or if he had managed to sequester her alone in some room of the Kingsman headquarters, or in her townhouse—or even that one time when he’d managed to get her alone in Champ’s office last week when she was needed stateside for a mission. He stole a kiss then, too, feeling like mischievous teenagers hiding from too-strict parents.

It was…good.

Better than good, actually. It was all much too sappy to say out loud but she felt happier than she had in a long time. Like she had shed some sort of heavy coat made of metal and wool and she could move and breathe without restraint. She would never tell Whiskey—his ego was already insatiable—and she had a feeling he might have an inkling he knew how she felt.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that, Sunshine. Do it again.” As she thought: insatiable. And it felt like they had readily settled into some idyllic relationship that a person could only dream of having. They spoke as often as they could, about anything and everything—Jack even told her about the discussions he had with his therapist and she spoke about the nightmares that sometimes plagued her in the dark. They bickered, of course—they were human, but it was usually few and far between and over trivial things (like which agency had the best tech or Bela’s favorite movie) and over before they really began. It was good. But at the moment, she had just finished a mission in Singapore and expected to hear her phone ring with Jack’s Skype call. They kept tabs on each other’s missions and always called one another when they came home. Bela zoomed down the staircase and leapt on his little legs into her outstretched arms. Her dog-sitter, a Kingsman technician, happily reported Bela behaved himself while she was away before saying goodnight. She pressed a few kisses to Bela’s fur and locked up the doors and windows before pulling her phone from her pocket, ignoring her suitcase for a bit longer. Bela settled on her lap as she pulled up the app and was just about to dial Jack’s number when Ginger’s face appeared on her screen with an incoming call. Ginger was back stateside to assist Statesmen with some sort of kidnapping ring and had been giving Sunny updates every few days. She answered it quickly. “Hey! I’m about to-” “Jack’s been shot.” “What-” “Let me finish,” Ginger said in her usual calming tone. “He’s going to be fine. But he wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry he couldn’t make your usual call.” Ginger’s lips picked up in a small smile, probably trying not to laugh at her fellow agent’s mortified expression. “For a pair of agents, you two are very bad at keeping your relationship a secret.” And then Ginger did laugh. “He’ll call when he’s cleared by medical. Okay?” She pushed out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” “He’s fine, Cap. I promise,” Ginger said, old moniker slipping by her lips. A few more words of encouragement were given, mission details were traded, and eventually they hung up. Her appetite gone, she eventually wandered upstairs to her bedroom and simply stared at the ceiling. Bela was asleep on her chest, giving her a little comfort. And she knew Statesmen had some of the best medical team and technology available. She knew Jack would be fine. But it still… hurt. Worry bit at her bones and pressed at her already-buzzing mind. There would be no sleep tonight.

Whiskey did not like the smell of the medical wing. He did not like the bright white lights. He did not like the stupid paper gown they insisted he wear after sewing him back up. And he definitely didn’t like watching Champ settle into the chair next to his bed with a frown.

“Ain’t you supposed to be the one leadin’ the charge, Whiskey? Grenadine said you were distracted-”

“I was fine, Champ. I had it handled-”

“You’re in the medical wing. Did you forget that? Or did you hit your head, too?”

Whiskey felt his lip start to curl in a snarl. “My head’s fine and you know it.”

Champ’s frown deepened before he let out a sigh, pulling out a silver flask from his blazer jacket. He grabbed two of the small plastic cups from the bedside table, usually meant to hold medications, and poured two shots of amber-colored liquid. He slid one toward Jack before quickly downing his and putting away his flask. “You’re a good agent, Jack. A fine Statesman.”

Jack quickly grabbed the offered shot and drank it, knowing no conversation that started with compliments like that was ever good.

“But you want more than that.”

“Champ-”

“I’m old. Older than you and I’ve worked my entire life to save the world and the people in it—usually from themselves. And I got squat to show for it outside my big office and nice car. But you-” he pointed a finger, “-you have a chance at something real. Another chance. Those don’t come around every day. And you two have been tip-toein’ around each other for years.”

And, for a moment, Jack Daniels didn’t have a word to say. It was embarrassing to realize that everyone seemed to know they had moved past the fellow-agent relationship. But it was also strangely calming to know that people beside him and his Sunshine wanted them to be happy—together.

“You’ve saved the world enough. I know you’ve been thinkin’ about retiring anyway.”

“I-”

“Give it a little more thought. Visit your lady, yeah?” Champ said as he stood and patted his chest. “Take the next week off. I’ll have Grenadine handle the debrief.”

“Champ-”

But he was already out the door.

She wiped at her eyes, trying to press a bit of exhaustion out of her head with limited success. But Harry had accepted her debrief and then let her go for the rest of the day. “

Mordred, you’ve nearly fallen asleep twice just sitting here. Go home.”

Not her finest moment but she wasn’t going to say no to a nap. Maybe if she was asleep she could ignore that she still hadn’t heard from Jack. Ginger did say he would be fine but it still didn’t sit right with her and-

“Hey, Sunshine.”

She dropped her keys.

There he was, posted up against the side of her house, one foot kicked up behind him on the white-washed wall with his stupid Stetson pulled low over his eyes. She leapt at him and pulled him close, sagging into his grip as he wrapped his arms around her. He was so warm and wonderful and here. His familiar, expensive cologne touched her nose as she breathed him in, laughing at how he pressed his lips against her neck, mustache tickling her skin.

“You’re here,�� she said as she pulled back.

He stole a quick kiss with another smile. “I am. Champ gave me some time off. I guess I should get shot more often.”

She quickly grabbed at his face. “No. That’s not funny-”

He kissed her again, smiling against her frowning mouth. “Are you going to invite me in or do I have to hang outside your door like a lost tomcat?” Jack bent and scooped up her keys and pressed them into her hand.

“You drive a hard bargain.” She slipped from his grasp and moved toward the door, undoing the three locks and stepping inside, Jack right on her heels. She closed the door behind him, only just noticing the small bag slung over his shoulder before he kissed her again. She would never get tired of kissing him.

But now was the first time in six months since she was alone with him—six months since Edinburgh. Six months of only stealing kisses and wandering hands when others were around and not having a moment truly to themselves. But work came first. Saving the world wouldn’t stop because she wanted to kiss him and hear his laugh.

And she really loved the sound of his laugh.

But then she yawned right in his face when he broke away from her lips to breathe.

“Now, Sunshine, you truly know how to cut a man to the quick.”

She laughed and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I got no sleep last night.”

Jack wound his arms around her and pulled her tight again, uncaring that they were still right beside her front door, barely a few steps inside. “And why not?”

“Ginger told me what happened and then you didn’t call. I was worried.” Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, thumbs rubbing against the buttery soft leather of his jacket. “Stupid in our line of work, right?” Her laugh was soft but sharp with self-deprecation. And she knew it was stupid. Knew that her line of work that nothing really was promised. That her time with Jack, no matter how much it made her smile, was never guaranteed.

“I never meant to-”

“It isn’t you, Jack. It is just… me, I guess. I think I worry too much.” She stepped back as she yawned again. “Sorry, jeez.”

But Jack just smiled. “Tell you what, Sunny. I’m here all week. I’ll let you worry about me all you want.”

“A week? Jack, you know I want to but I have to wor-”

Her phone chirped.

“Shit, sorry.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and frowned when she saw the message. It was from Roxy and it simply said;

Have fun! See you on Monday. ;)

It took a moment, but if finally dawned on her what it meant and she tossed her phone onto her couch with a smile. “It seems that I’m not expected back in the office until Monday.”

Jack let out a holler and all but started to drag her toward the staircase. She had to slap his hands away to lock her door before she let him grab at her sides and strong-arm her upstairs. Her laughter finally woke Bela from his mid-morning nap and he poked his head out of the guest room to let out an indignant huff at their noise before retreating again. Jack knew where her bedroom was, having been there for a total of ten minutes after Scotland, and he basically dragged her inside and plopped her onto her overstuffed mattress, rumpling the blankets immediately. And she happily let him crawl over her and pressed her down into the welcoming softness as he shucked his shoes and jacket. Hers soon followed with fumbling limbs and they both laughed as Jack continued to kiss her lips, her cheek, her nose, her neck—anywhere he could place his lips was quickly kissed.

She let him pull his shirt off and divest her of her own and they both scrambled with their jeans and trousers before falling back against the pillows in a pair of matching, tired huffs. Maybe she should have been a little more demure about this casual near-nakedness—it was the first time they’d bared this much skin with each other—but all she felt was comfort when he looked at her. Some beautiful, gentle warmth bloomed in her chest as she looked at him.

Jack leaned forward to press a slow kiss against her lips as one of his hands landed on her hip, thumb tracing the lacy edge of her panties.

And she might have let him continue—let herself finally know what it was like to be touched by him in that way—but she yawned again and her eyes caught the fresh scar on his shoulder. Her fingers brushed against it, feeling how the skin was raised and twisted, something even Statesmen’s tech couldn’t stop with some injuries.

Jack’s hand stilled on her hip. “I’m okay, Sunshine. I’m right here with you.” But then he touched the mark across her stomach, the one she’d gained from their time in Italy. His fingers trailed to the scar on her chest and then down to another zig-zagging twist of puckered skin on her side. She shivered at the contact, nerves alight. “And you’re with me, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m with you.”

“Good.” He smiled, soft and tired-eyed. “Let’s get some sleep.” He reached back and managed to pull her sheets and blankets down enough for them to slide underneath and then slid an arm under her shoulders so he could bring her to his side as she closed her eyes. And she fell asleep to the quiet beat of his heart.

She found Jack liked Hyde Park, free museums, and having tea. “It ain’t sweet tea, Sunshine. But it’ll do.”

And he never pressed her for more than a few heated kisses and she never swatted at his wandering hands, even when they seemed to always gravitate toward her ass when they were alone—he did have the sensibility to keep them above the waist when they were outside her house.

Again, she was struck with how easy and domestic it all ways. No one was shooting at them. No one was trying to poison them or use them for information. All they wanted from each other was each other.

It was just her and Jack and Bela and the occasional autumn rain sliding against the windows. And she let herself believe that her life could be like this—simple and fulfilling and quiet. They both had enough money in the bank to live very comfortably if they both wanted to leave—but she was definitely getting ahead of herself. In the grand scheme of things, she didn’t even know if Jack wanted that. What if he wanted to live out the rest of his life as a Statesmen, retirement be damned? Did she want to be in Kingsman for the rest of her life? Those thoughts didn’t stop her from realizing that her house finally felt like a home when he was inside it.

But when Jack’s lips found her neck as she finished drying the last pan from breakfast and his still-damp-from-the-washing hands wrapped around her waist, wetting her pajama shirt, all thoughts disappeared. All there was—was Jack.

“What are you up to?” She asked with a smile, turning in his grip to wrap her arms around his neck. His hair was still mussed from sleep and he had on only his boxers and a t-shirt, but he was handsome—so handsome in the low morning glow.

He didn’t answer but grabbed at his phone on the countertop and pulled up an app behind her back and soon Johnny Cash’s voice started to croon over the small speaker and flood the kitchen. She instantly recognized the tune and had to laugh. “Really, Jack?”

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he sang along, letting his fingers trail along until one of his hands was wrapped around her waist and the other was holding her hand against his chest.

She grasped his shoulder and let him lead her in a swaying, mellow version of a dance as the sunlight trickled through her kitchen window and painted everything in a hazy yellow while the air still smelled of sticky syrup and pancakes.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,” he sang, slightly off-key, the words muffled into her cheek, but they made her heart leap all the same. “Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

“This is a sad song, you know,” she said without making a move to change it.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied. And he sounded sad, too.

And that just about did her in. Well, that and the fact that he was set to be back in New York tomorrow. She pulled out of his grasp and grabbed at his phone, switching to another song with a forced smile. But the smile became real when he laughed at her choice, low and rumbling in his chest.

“Dolly and Kenny?”

“This song is a classic!” She argued, letting him pull her close again and she tried to follow him in an abbreviated two-step jaunt that had her laughing and pressing a kiss to his perfect, single dimple. But the song eventually ended, fading into another and then another. And their steps slowed too, once again simply swaying on her cool tile floor. “I don’t want you to be sad—not with me.”

His next breath was slow but his grip tightened. “I think you make me the happiest I’ve ever been, Sunshine.”

“You make me happy, too.” She turned, murmuring the words into his chest like a secret, like if she said it too loudly it would be used as a weapon. “We really wasted a lot of time, didn’t we?”

“But we turned up exactly where we’re supposed to be.” He turned to press a kiss to the top of her head. “You know I love you, right?”

And her heart sprouted wings in her chest while the smile splitting her face almost hurt. “Yeah.” She turned her head just enough to look up at him, seeing him already looking down at her. “I love you, too.”

Easy. It was so easy. And they continued to sway to the music even as he turned his head just enough to catch her lips again in a kiss that so sweetly stole the breath from her lungs. Her lips were slick and tender from his ministrations but it was an ache she would gladly live with, especially when he gently grasped her face in his hands to angle her face just-so, leading the kiss until she was unmoving in his hold. Her hands circled his wrists and she sighed against his mouth. A different kind of heat was starting to curl in her stomach like perfumed smoke that left her whining when Whiskey pulled back to breathe.

“You look so pretty like this, darlin’. I’ve never seen you look like this before.”

“Like what?” Her voice was hoarse.

“Like you want me to eat you alive.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest at the dark, hungry look in his eyes. Heat took root in her stomach, clenching her muscles and her hands unconsciously fisting the soft material of his shirt. “Oh.” She swallowed the dry lump in her throat. “You…you want to?”

And he laughed and kissed her again—god, she could never get enough of his lips. “You gonna let me?” His warm hands slid down to grab at her hips and he tugged her a little closer. “Huh? You gonna let Jack eat that pretty-”

Her hand pressed against his mouth as she bit back a laugh. “Don’t refer to yourself in the third person if you want to get anywhere near me.” And then she felt him smile against her fingers. “I mean it.” The words were stilted with her laugh which only grew when she felt his lips pucker so he could kiss her fingers.

He reached up to gently remove her hand, the hungry look in his eyes now sparkling with a bit of mischief. “You drive a hard bargain.” His fingers tangled with hers and started to tug her toward her staircase. “But I accept.”

The pair was quiet as they retreated to sun-soaked haven of her bedroom. Warm hands slipped beneath her shirt and dragged it up to just beneath her breasts but then stalled, a quiet question in his eyes that was quickly answered with a swift nod. He pulled her shirt up and over her head and tossed it aside—his shirt quickly followed. He moved to brush a kiss against the scar over her chest as his palm settled over the scar on her stomach, like he was trying to wipe it away. She reached out to cradle his face and pulled him up, smiling against his mouth as he sighed.

“I’m here,” she said as she stretched to brush against the faded scar at his temple. “We’re just fine.” Her skilled fingers curled under the elastic band of his boxers and shucked them down his legs before he shuffled her backward. Her knees hit her bed and he pushed her back to make her bounce on the mattress. It was then that she allowed herself to truly admire him—strong legs and chest, a little soft around the middle, but still very capable. She found herself licking her licks—a little unconsciously—as she eyed his cock as it curved up toward his stomach. “Are you just going to stare?”

“Well, you are such a pretty picture.” But he climbed over her anyway, mouth slanting over hers with a passion and curl of his tongue that had her moaning and delighting in how he almost shivered under her hands as they trailed down his chest. He pulled away from her mouth to let out a groan of his own when her warm hand encircled his hard cock and squeezed. “Don’t be cruel, Sunny. I want to get to the main event before I make a mess.” Jack shuffled back, pressing wet kisses against her throat, her chest, her stomach, before he huffed out a long breath against her sleep shorts and it was her turn to shiver. He slowly pulled them down her legs and he pressed a kiss against the lace of her underwear before he pulled those down, too, tossing them over his shoulder. “So pretty for me,” he murmured, mostly to himself as his hands around her legs to pull her open, exposing her to the warm air of the room and his greedy gaze.

She curled her fingers into his thick hair as he dragged his nose along her folds, breathing her in. He had barely begun and she already felt like she was floating, held down to the bed just by his strong hands on her thighs. His tongue finally—finally parted his beautiful lips and he licked, strong and firm.

And she keened, hips lifting from the bed only to be pulled back down by his unyielding grip. And the bastard had the audacity to laugh and glanced up at her, mustache wet and glistening in the low light.

“Be good, darlin’. I wanna treat you real nice.”

“If you don’t finish-” The next words stalled in her throat as he licked another firm stripe before sucking her clit between his smiling lips. “Fuck!”

And then he truly began—a ravenous mix of tongue and plush lips moving against her and stealing any sort of coherent thought she might have had. He didn’t stop when she thrashed in his grip with her first. Didn’t stop when she tugged on his hair with the second. Didn’t stop when she wailed and panted and pleaded for a bit of a reprieve as the third started to crest and the damp spot beneath her legs continued to grow. But he let it build, continued to let her writhe under his hands until he was drinking her down like ambrosia again.

“J-Jack, please! Enough,” she begged, tugging on his disheveled hair. Her sigh was a little broken in her throat when he finally raised his head, smile glistening. He was such a pretty sight, bracketed between her thighs. A shiver shot down her spine as he pressed a kiss to her hip. “You… are something else, Jack.”

He chuckled and pressed another sticky kiss to her other hip. “I’ve been wanting to know what you tasted like for years, Sunshine.”

She slid her hands down to frame his face, letting her thumb brush against the edge of his mustache letting just a bit of slick coat her thumb before bringing it up to her mouth and sucking. His mouth dropped and a guttural groan pushed passed his shining lips as he watched. The sharp tang of herself was lost to her as he suddenly reared back onto his knees and he climbed over her, legs pushing against hers to spread her wide and hands dropping to either side of her head on the rumpled blankets. The feel of him pressing against the crux of her thighs made her moan, soft and breathy as he loomed above.

“I never thought you’d be a tease.”

“I just wanted to know what the fuss was about,” she shot back, fighting a smile, but it bloomed just as Jack’s did and he laughed before pressing a kiss to her lips and she tasted herself again.

He dropped to his elbows so he could gently cradle her face. “You got one more in ya? Just about did me in like a teenager.”

She laughed and let her hands pull through his hair again. “I think I can try, for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wanna know what the fuss is about,” she repeated, smiling into his lips as he bent down to kiss her again with a laugh of his own.

“Be kind to me, darlin’. I’m half-cocked already, finger on the trigger.”

“Oh?” She wiggled her hips and tried to bite back a smile when his eyes fluttered shut as she let herself glide against him. “I think you’re more than half-cocked.”

His hands suddenly grasped at her cheeks and he stole the breath from her lung with a vicious sort of ease despite the smile she still felt him pressing against her mouth. “Mean, baby.”

One hand slipped down and her entire body jolted as she felt him push the tip of his cock up and down, up and down along her folds before catching against her opening. Then, in one slow, delicious push, he slid inside. Her entire body seemed to catch fire as he bottomed out, curls at the base of him scratching against her skin. The stretch burned but she didn’t care—she didn’t care because he was there. Her Jack. And she was so deliciously full. Her hands scrambled to grab at his shoulders again and she barely managed to sigh out a heated “move” before he slipped his arms around her back and was dragging in and out with a slow, harsh thrust that had her choking on every breath while he pinned her down. Every sense was Jack—touch, taste, sound, sight, smell. All of it was him.

And that was sending her careening toward another orgasm at an embarrassingly quick pace. To finally have Jack, the man she’d been in love with for years, made it all the more terrifyingly lovely and erotic.

“You feel like heaven,” he grunted. “Tight, beautiful heaven.”

“Oh please,” she breathed, shaking hands reaching down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he continued to thrust. “Please.”

“I wanna feel ya, Sunshine. Wanna feel ya gush for me. Can you do that?” His slow drag continued and he buried his face into her sweat-slick neck, tongue sliding against her pulse.

“I want to feel you too, Jack.” Somehow she managed to find the words she needed through her buzzing mind. “Give it to me. It’s okay.”

He pulled one of his arms from around her back and slipped it between their tightly bound bodies, finding her clit like he had done it thousands of times and rubbed quick, firm circles that had her crying out and turning her head to kiss him, catching his jaw with her lips. “You first, Sunshine.”

And she erupted, one more time, shaking and shuddering in his grasp as white light flashed behind her eyes. But then she heard Jack’s beautiful, broken groan as his hips stilled, flush against hers, and warmth flooded as he gave a few small thrusts, chasing the last bits of his high. Her lips pressed against his neck, his cheek, finally finding his panting mouth. Her fingers traced his spine as they both tried to catch their breaths, bodies still reeling from the aftershocks. The afterglow was quiet and warm and perfect—sticky, syrupy, sweet. When Jack went to pull away, she tightened her grip on his back the slightest bit, uncaring of the slick she felt trickling down to puddle beneath them. “Stay a little bit. I like how you feel.”

His breath was warm against her skin, smelling of syrup and mint. “I’ll stay as long as you want.”

“Call me when you land.”

“It’ll be late-”

“I’ll be awake. Just call.” She tried to press a smile to her lips but she was sure it looked withered. With all the years of subterfuge and espionage she had under her belt, it still seemed like she now couldn’t lie with him. Maybe her heart just couldn’t take it anymore. It refused to go back to pulling into frowns or impassivity.

Jack brushed his lips against hers with a sigh. “I’ll call. I promise.”

She sucked in a breath as her hands pressed against his chest, feeling his warmth and steady heartbeat. “I kinda got used to having you all to myself, Whiskey.”

And then he was quiet, face pulled tight, before he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her close and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Let me see what I can do, Sunshine.”

“Jack-”

“Because I got used to being able to kiss you whenever I wanted. I got used to saying I love you whenever I wanted—”

“We just started saying that yesterday,” she grumbled, half-pleased, half-despondent.

“I got used to being able to kiss you any time I felt like it.” And then he stole another kiss. “But I’ll be back soon.”

“Promise?” She whispered.

“I promise that I’m very hard to get rid of.”

She liked the sound of that.

Two years later:

“Bela! No!” The corgi had stolen a piece of toast from the counter—how did he even get up there?—and tried to scamper away with the large treat.

Jack had been planning for weeks. His Sunshine had taken an assignment in Prague alongside Ginger Percival and Lancelot and was due back home in just a handful of minutes. He wanted everything perfect. The perfect flowers, the perfect music, the perfect meal (breakfast for dinner was a favorite of hers).

Perfect—until the dog stole a piece of toast.

It had been a year and a half since he had stepped back from Statesman, becoming a consultant for more complicated missions and only stepping into the field for end-of-the-world scenarios. He had shown up on his Sunny’s doorstep with a bag in hand and she had welcomed him inside without blinking.

She was…she was everything. His love. His second chance. His Sunny, filling every part of his scarred heart with warmth like sunlight sparkling on a skyscraper, sending beams of light into every dark corner and alley.

And living with her? It was so easy. His own slice of paradise on this wretched earth. They were a family—him, her, the dog. But he had definitely wanted more and he knew she did, too—they’d talked about it during more than a handful late-night phone calls and when they were wrapped up in each other under her soft blankets. And maybe they could have that. Maybe they could have a little more of this beautiful paradise.

He heard the door open and Sunny greeted Bela. “Hi, baby. Where’d you get toast?” She walked into the kitchen, carrying the corgi who was still chewing on the pilfered toast with his tiny, sharp teeth. She smiled as she looked at him and quickly pressed a slow, soft kiss to his mouth. “Hi, handsome.”

“Welcome home, Sunshine.”

She bent to set Bela on the ground and then gave him another kiss before looking around at the kitchen, seeing the spread of food and the large bouquet of her favorite flowers. “I will never get tired of coming home to you.” She plucked a piece of toast from the plate and took a bite and he watched as she smiled with crumbs on her lips.

For a moment—just a moment—the small box tucked in his back pocket could wait. He wanted to look at her a little longer.

A/N: And that’s all she wrote, folks! Please let me know what you think! Thank you all for reading. I love you. Period. The end.

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm @honestlystop @paryl @fioccodineveautunnale @lackofhonor @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @chibi-liz05 @huliabitch @iellaren-uodo-rian @roxypeanut @mrpascals @paintballkid711

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #kingsman imagine #jack daniels reader #jack daniels imagine #kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 4 years ago

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tuesday again

the last fuckin one of the year. i posted one of these almost every week. you can find all 50 posts @tuesday-again and every tuesday again song on this spotify playlist.

listening fictional aisle, by tall boy special. this is nonsensical and delightful. i don’t know that it’s particularly well produced or that the music video is especially good but it’s a song that does what it says on the tin.

youtube

reading high crimes by christopher sebela. good premise! disgraced former snowboarding champ now moonlights as a grave robber when she’s guiding rich tourists up everest! stumbles across a dead spy! mystery unravels in a disappointing way and the ending made me yell OH COME ON so loud the dog upstairs barked in alarm!

i do appreciate how the male author and the male artist gave me a sort of fucked up woman who is not sexy at all in her breakdown(s) and there aren’t any weird Hurt but Sexy panels even though she does have full mascara and falsies on in every closeup. they drank like three quarters of their glass of respect women juice

watching the thing (1982, dir. Carpenter). every year i watch a non-traditional christmas movie bc honestly fuck this holiday. i have not seen this since high school when i was trying to impress someone. it is understandable why it was not a hit at first, bc the pacing is fucked and this movie expects me to tell twelve (a full dozen!) scruffy men apart. i could not tell you the timeline of infection or who infected who based on one viewing.

i think it only gets actually tense when it’s an interpersonal thriller- when everyone’s super paranoid and trying to figure out who is infected based on??? idk??? vibes??? interpersonal bullshit before they figure the blood test out??? it’s a solid movie. i think it would be a much more interesting weird short experimental film and it doesn’t really need to be two hours. or if it does give me more of everyone slowly turning on each other and factions forming.

also, the last time i saw this i had not played fallout 4 (because it wasn’t out) and i had to pause the movie and sigh deeply at the introduction of kurt russell as rj macready. bethany esda could have a made an interesting parallel with the synths or done ANYTHING with it other than going “oh cool name we’re big john carpenter fans bc people seem to like him??? don’t you like all the REFERENCES to OTHER BETTER MEDIA in OUR PIECE OF MEDIA???” but ALAS.

idk if i’m ever going to watch it again but i appreciate what it’s trying to do and its use of practical effects. also more movies should have flamethrowers for no particular reason. i think kurt russell did a good job trying to save the planet

youtube

playing three different open world games

genshin impact, the game i actually want to play and am enjoying although the current event is stressing me out a little bit

the redder deader redemption, the game i really need to learn to use a controller for and is stressing me out in a different way bc i already know i will pour several hundred hours of my life into it when i could be doing things like replaying fallout to tighten up my fic more. this is probably the one most likely to get shoved to the back burner for later.

and monster hunter, my best friend’s favorite game, bc nothing would make her happier than being able to play it with me and yanno what this is the least i can fucking do for her even though this is not a flavor of game i tend to enjoy (trial-and-error learn how to beat difficult bosses, lots of prepwork and nesting menus, the same reasons i will never play bloodborne or dark souls)

also, thinking about video games all day at work makes me want to play them less. which makes sense but is still disappointing

making made a thing, framed it, framed two other things. not generally a fan of framing things in hoops yet here we are

top left: sewed a little felt strip on the back of the previously-featured scorpio piece so it hangs properly on my wall

bottom left: pattern from @roachpatrol , a line from the Imperial Radch trilogy. this 40x40 tiny thing took just under five hours start-to-finish not counting washing & drying time (stitching, backstitching, all the fiddly bits involved with framing) while i caught up on waypoint radio

right: this was a christmas gift from my sister that came rolled up in a little packet. i don’t have enough felt to properly back it but it is washed, hooped, and i cut the circles of matboard and batting to keep it from collapsing in on itself over time. i don’t know if i want to put it in my bathroom, bc that’s where my washer and dryer live and everything gets linty and weird real fast. maybe the outside of the door

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #i happen to be awake and excited about finally wrangling this playlist and this sideblog into something semifunctional

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nieladasdenani · 4 years ago

Text

All right. Thanks to @Wolfsbane-illustrations for the prompt.

However, I’m going to take some liberties: I don’t think Lena would have the same “motivation” as James to be Guardian. She wouldn’t disregard her role as the CEO of one of the most influential and powerful companies in the country. I also believe she would do it after knowing Kara’s identity as Supergirl and only after knowing all the times she was so close to dying and how many dangerous people are after her with the right weapons. So, either this story will ignore the fallout between them after the reveal, or it will be set after they move past it.

I’m also picturing her Guardian suit as a mix between Lexo-Suit and the Iron Man suit. Practical, light and functional. And obviously very high tech. Also her bike would be something like Batman would have.

And finally, I’ve decided to include the scene with Livewire from season 2 (I think?) when James was starting as Guardian and gets kidnapped with Man-hell trying to “save” Leslie. Because I miss her. So, she tried to sacrifice herself to save Kara, but they saved her somehow. I just love the idea of Livewire and Supergirl being sort of friends.

Anyway, here goes nothing. You can read it on AO3, if you rather.

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

Kara’s been having a month. The monster-of-the-week has become a monster-of-the-day kind of scenario, and she’s starting to feel like she can’t keep up, even with all her superpowers. Even with all the appreciated help: there’s Nia, Dreamer, who’s a fantastic mentee, both in the journalist way and in the hero way. Obviously, there’s Alex and the DEO, and J’onn and M’gann. She can always ask for the help of her other hero friends like Barry, Sara, Oliver, or Kate. And then there’s Guardian.

Kara frowns. She’s not sure how she feels about Guardian. The newest National City vigilante. She’s also not sure why she refers to them as “vigilante” and not hero. Maybe because she doesn’t know anything about them. Just that they seem to show up just in the nick of time to save the day if Kara finds herself overwhelmed. She’s suspicious of how they seem to be so evasive. Of course, she understands the need to privacy and keeping a secret identity. But they barely interact with her, or anyone, for that matter. Just the occasional witty or flirty comment before they leave. Don’t forget their suit is lead-lined, which makes Kara’s frown deepen. It seems a rather specific detail to conceal their identity from Supergirl.

So, imagine her surprise when she gets to the place where they have Leslie, sorry, Livewire strapped to a torture chair and finds not only Guardian incapacitated, but Brainy.

“What the heck!” She says, because, seriously? “Brainy!?”

“Ah. Supergirl. Greetings.” He says, and he’s smart enough to look apologetic.

“What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

“No. I am at optimal performance. We just thought we could lend a hand and help miss Livewire here.” He nods towards the space behind Kara, from where she can hear a sardonic snort.

“Sure, champ. Good job” Leslie snarks. Kara turns to look at her over her shoulder because she sounds pained. She looks like she sounds, too. So Kara starts to make her way towards her, while she addresses Brainy again.

“We? As in, you and Guardian?” He looks at the mentioned vigilante sideways, straightens his spine, and then:

“Indeed”

So Kara takes a deep, deep breath, holds it in for 10 seconds like Kelly showed her. And exhales slowly through her mouth, while she checks on Leslie’s injuries. She smirks at Kara, Leslie. They share a look.

“Are you all right?” And she knows Leslie’s answer before she even finishes her, admittedly, silly question

“Peachy, blondie. Take your time.” And Kara sighs, again.

“Please, don’t zip away just yet. I’ll like for Alex to check you out before you leave.” She warns, begs? Leslie after releasing her.

“Hot older sister. Kinky.” And Kara can’t help but roll her eyes at her. Then she turns back to Brainy, who apparently is the sidekick for Guardian, which... Is Kara too old for this, already?

“Brainy, why are you working with Guardian?” She rubs her forehead as she can actually feel a headache starting right above her left eye.

“Well...” He clears his throat and then Guardian takes the chance to finally speak.

“How about you free us, Supergirl? Or are we under arrest?”

“I really don’t think you are in any position to talk to me like that... dude?” It comes out as a question, and Kara frowns, again. She actually has no idea if Guardian is a male or a female or something in between. They use a voice distorter, and it’s not like their suit has a reflection of their anatomical gender representation, like breasts, because what’s the functionality of that anyway?

... unless. Unless is like that old cartoon with Japanese robots and the female robot’s breasts are actual missiles? What was its name? Kenny used to nerd over it when she was a new kid on Earth.

“Yeah, you tell them, Sups!” Leslie is laughing, but it sounds a little breathless. And Kara is about to turn her attention back to her, but Guardian is not letting Livewire’s snark interrupt them from defending their case.

“Listen, we were just trying to help. We just did not expect them to be so prepared for a rescue mission.”

“Why wouldn’t they be prepared for a rescue mission? Livewire is a high profile metahuman, and they kidnapped her!” This was shaping as a useless discussion, but apparently, Leslie had enough of that.

“Awesome. Look, Sups, I am flattered that you think of me as a high profile metahuman and all. But what about that hot agent checking me out, huh?”

“Oh! Les... Livewire! Of course. Uh. I’m, I’m gonna pick you up, all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. You have my consent, babe.” And Kara can feel herself blushing deeply. So she picks her up and flies her fast to the DEO med bay. Leaving behind the outraged yell from Guardian. Which she promptly ignores.

“I could zap into their suit. You know. Sneak around a bit. If you want.” They’re almost at the DEO when Leslie breaks the silence.

“What?”

“Guardian. I could get into their circuits or something.”

“No. No, that’s... nice of you? But no. It could be dangerous.”

“Come on, Sups! I’m a high profile metahuman.” And she has the audacity of grinning up at Kara.

“Shut up. I don’t want you to do it. It’s such a violation of their privacy. Thank you, though.”

“Whatever.” And then: “Are you ever going to let me see the tentacles?”

“Leslie.”

“Ooh! Is it teeth?”

“What?”

“Do you have teeth down there?”

“I swear to Rao I’m going to drop you.”

When Kara gets back at the scene where Guardian and Brainy are still restrained at, it has been barely five minutes. She did not drop Leslie. But Guardian is grumbling and huffing, trying to break free. So she’s anticipating more snark, and she’s seriously just too tired for this.

“I’m taking you both to the DEO” She says, resolute, in her most authoritative voice, with her Supergirl hands-on-hips pose.

“With what charges? With what authority?” It’s like she was expecting the person behind the armor to agree, but she kinda wishes they were unconscious to avoid all this bickering.

“I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“No. You just want to make sure you know who I am, so you can put a DEO lash on me.”

“Well, why are you so against working with us?”

“I work alone”

“Do you, now?” And Kara lifts an eyebrow pointedly looking at Brainy. And Guardian clears their throat.

“I mean, I don’t affiliate myself with shady government organizations.”

“He works for the shady government organization, though.”

“Not when he’s working with me.” There’s a distorted sigh. “Can you understand the need for keeping my identity secret? I would think you’d understand that, Supergirl.”

“I do. Look, I just want to make sure you’re not hurt.”

“I have people who can take care of that.”

“Fine,” Kara says after a tense stretch of silence. And proceeds to free them both. Guardian takes off immediately after a quiet thank you. So Kara is left with a sheepish looking Brainy.

“So.” He says, “uh. Could you not tell Nia about this.”

“Oh, I am definitely going to tell Nia about this. I’m going to tell her so hard.” She says while she’s starting to walk outside to take off.

“Are you not going to give me a lift?”

“No. Tell your new buddy to give you a lift. Oh, right! They left you here! Bye!”

She knows she’s being petty. But she really has had enough of people acting like dummies. She just wants to get home and eat pizza and potstickers and ice cream. So, she does. She did text Vazquez to pick up Brainy once she’s finished clearing the place, though. But he doesn’t need to know that. Let him squirm.

She was hoping for a few days of peace. But it’s only two days later when crap happens again.

“Supergirl.”

“Director.”

“We’ve detected a powerful electric signal near the Central Bank, on Main.”

“On my way”

“Supergirl. It looks like Livewire’s signal. Please, be careful.”

“Of course”

When she arrives at the scene she’s prepared for powerful electric weapons. Criminals. Even hostages. But what she’s not expecting is to find herself in a partially empty parking lot with a couple of Livewire clones and an unconscious Guardian laying on the ground. Fortunately, the real Livewire shows up a couple of seconds after her.

“Did you fuckers thought I would let you torture my powers out of me and let you chill?”

And between them both, they manage to incapacitate the bad guys with minimal damage to themselves. So now Kara’s focus is on the unconscious vigilante. She shakes them a little at first.

“Guardian” No response. So she shakes harder. “Guardian, can you hear me?”

“I don’t think they can, babe. You’ve gotta get the helmet out.” And Kara knows Leslie is right. But, it kind of feels like breaking a promise. She sighs, really didn’t want this to go down like this.

With a deep breath and an encouraging nod from Leslie, Kara rips the helmet from Guardians head. Carefully, but resolutely. And... What the actual...

“Oh, shit! Is that your girlfriend, Sups?”

Kara is so angry she can’t even correct Leslie on the fact that no, Lena Luthor is not Kara’s girlfriend. And Kara is probably going to strangle her before she can be. She scoops Lena into her arms and takes off warning Leslie to get to the DEO to get checked.

Kara lands with a crack to the landing balcony and a shake to the DEO building. Alex is approaching with a reproach dying in her mouth when she realizes that Kara is furious and the reason why laying unconscious in her arms.:

“Follow me.” Is all she says. No one else dares make a peep. Kara lays Lena softly on the bed and stays there, crossing her arms over her chest. “No. Get out.” Alex's words leave no room for argument, but Kara takes a breath to try anyway. “Kara, out. Please. Wait outside. I need to work and I can’t with you fuming down my neck. I promise you will be the first person in when I’m done. Please.”

Kara huffs and floats out to avoid destroying the room by stomping. It’s less than an hour later when Alex steps into the hallway with her. Her arms up, like she’s trying to calm down a wild animal. Which, rude, but fair.

“She’s fine. Got a good shock from one of the clones. A mild concussion, too. But nothing’s broken. Just a little rest and she’ll be good as new.”

Kara takes a deep breath to steel herself for the confrontation. But a strong hand in the middle of her chest ask her to stop.

“Kar. You should get checked, too. I know you received a couple of zaps yourself.”

“Later”

“Kara. You shouldn’t storm in like this. Maybe cool down a bit first.”

“Alex, let me through.” And she does.

Kara storms inside the room Lena’s lying in like a tornado before touching down.

“What were you thinking?”

“Kara”

“I thought you were done doing stupid things”

“Kara”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius? What. Were. You Thinking, Lena?”

“Will you calm down, Supergirl?”

“Don’t you dare! I will not calm down, Lena. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You don’t get to monopolize the heroing in this city, Kara”

“What are you talking about? What does that mean?”

“It means how dare you to question my decision to use my resources to help.”

“I am not questioning you using your resources to help, Lena. I am questioning your mental health while throwing yourself at danger!”

“You do it all the time!”

“I am a superpowered alien!”

“You are not invincible!”

“I kind of am!”

“No. No, you are not! I’ve seen your records. I’ve seen the files. You’ve been on the edge of death several times! You’ve died Kara!”

And Kara pauses, because this, this is something she has not yet come around to talk about in therapy. And this is something she’s not expecting to have to counter-argue right now. Lena’s breathing hard. So is Kara.

“You... I... Yeah, yeah ok. So imagine what could happen to you, then.”

“Kara”

“I can’t lose you! I can’t. I can’t keep losing people, Lena, please!” And a sob escapes without her permission, so she covers her face with her trembling hands,

“Kara... Darling, please. Come closer.” She does. She does because that’s enough. She just really needs a break. Kara feels Lena’s hand tugging at her wrist, pulling her closer still. “Will you lay with me?”

“You’re hurt”

“Not enough to prevent you to lay with me”

“Ok”

She drapes herself over Lena, like a blanket. Resting her head right over Lena’s heart. And closes her eyes.

"Kara, my suit is very, very high tech. It’s very good at protecting me from external threats. I’m not doing this thoughtlessly.”

“Why did you hide it from me?”

“I’m not sure. I guess part of me knew you’d try to dissuade me. Maybe it was thrilling to have this secret. I certainly didn’t want you to worry so much, or distract you from your fights and put you in any more danger.”

“We could work together”

“Really?”

“I mean, I really wish you’d stop. But I know you. And I... You must let Alex train you, though. I know one of your arguments is going to be that I am ok with Alex putting herself in danger all the time when she’s as human as you. But Alex is an elite special agent, Lena. She doesn’t only rely on the weapons and tech the DEO provides. You need to train.”

“I really don’t want to get tied to the DEO.”

“I don’t think you have to.” At Lena’s skeptical murmur Kara insists: “Alex is the Director, she wouldn’t force you to work with them. You could have your own base with your... wait. Wait! You said you have people who can take care of you! What does that mean? What people?”

“Well, there’s Jess, of course.”

“Of course”

“Sam...”

“Isn’t she in Metropolis?”

“Not for long”

“Ok, but how can she helo with your injuries?”

“She doesn’t.”

“Then who? Jess?”

“Not her, no.”

“Lena. Who?”

“All right, don’t get upset...”

“Oh, reassuring”

“You really have nothing to be worried about. I promise.”

“Lena. Who?”

“Lilian”

... “Who?”

“My mother, Lilian”

“Oh, oh I think I should definitely go get checked out. Because I could have sworn I heard you say that Lilian Luthor, a notorious terrorist, not only knows about your stint as a vigilante, but you’re saying you’re trusting your safety, your health, to her!”

“Well, that’s a bit of a dramatic summary, darling.”

“Is it, though? Which part, exactly?”

“I know there’s no excuse for what she’s done. I’m not trying to make little of her crimes. But there’s also no excuse for what I’ve done, and you seem fine with giving me second chances. And, frankly, Kara, I don’t think it’s right of you to imply I’m dumb enough to put my health in the hands of someone without making sure I can trust them” Lena huffs, and when Kara keeps quiet, contemplating, she insists: “She has no access to the missions, or any information that can compromise you, or myself., or the DEO. I’m making sure of that. She just occasionally helps in the lab or patches me up.”

“I understand. She is one brilliant scientist, after all.”

“Oh, if she hears you praising her like this you might win her over. Not many people acknowledge her achievements as more than the Luthor Matriarch.”

“Well, many people are dumb. Besides. She is your mom. And she already knows my identity, my weaknesses my address, kidnapped my foster father, tried to recruit my sister, kidnapped me, harvested my powers...”

“All right, all right. I get it!”

“I will give a second chance to anyone who loves you.”

With that, they stay cuddle in silence for several seconds, minutes, even. Until:

“Maybe we should let Alex in to check you up, huh?” And Kara groans, while burying her face in Lena's chest, which makes her blush and swallows hard.

“She’ll make me lay in the sun-bed.”

“I could go with you?”

“No, you’ll get burned under the radiation. Plus you need to rest.”

“You smell like fried pork, Supergirl.”

“Wow! That’s so rude, Guardian”

“I’m not in the business of sugar-coating truths, darling.”

“No, you’re in the Supergirl business now!”

“Are you two done? I’m kind of scared to come in and find a murder-suicide scenario... or worse, a both-naked scenario” Alex does sound disgusted at the end. Why are people in her life so rude? Kara sighs, but it’s Lena’s smiling voice that becomes Alex inside.

She’s not forced to lay in the sun-bed, but she is forced to lay on a bed under a sun lamp. Next to Lena’s bed, at least.

“Lena?”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about missile breasts for your Guardian suit?”

... “Excuse me?”

“You know, your suit. ou could make it with breasts. But they’re actually missiles! Imagine the bad guys checking you out and them, boom! Missile to the face!”

“I don’t know how to respond to this”

“Just think about it”

“Sure.”

“Lena?”

“Yes, love?”

“I love you”.

#Supercrop #Prompt #Supercorp fic #supercorp prompt #wolfsbane-illustrations #This was a challenge!

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oveliagirlhaditright · 3 years ago

Text

The Promise

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33935899

Author’s Note: Sora and Kairi as John and Sarah from the “I am Number Four”/The “The Lorien Legacies” series in an AU for SoKai Day. But note that there are MAJOR spoilers for the Lorien Legacies series here. If you haven’t read that series, or aren’t caught up with it, and maybe one day plan on it and want to avoid spoilers, you might not want to read this.

Sora’s PoV

"Sora... why are you hesitating to fight the Mogadorians, babe?" Kairi asked her boyfriend, as they ran through the city and desperately tried to escape the aliens who were chasing them.

And in some ways—in asking him the obvious here—she was bringing him brightness in the way that only she could. "Light them up, babe,” Kairi encouraged once more, tugging on Sora’s hands to try and get him to do just that.

The two of them were stopped in a narrow alleyway now, catching their breaths, and probably both praying that the bigger mogs wouldn’t be able to follow them through here—and may not even see this little crevice that seemed to come out of nowhere—but it was a long shot.

Honestly? Sora would have loved to do what Kairi was saying: to use the strange beams of light, that came from his hands, in order to defeat the monsters that had destroyed his home planet… all while his human soulmate here aided him by firing her gun at them, like she'd gotten so good at doing... like they’d done before.

But Sora and Kairi had already done this once... And later on, Kairi had died—and she'd gone down like a champ; and Sora had never been prouder of her than when he’d been on the phone with her when it had happened… when she didn’t cry out in pain at all, or beg for her life, or blame Xion for what had happened—but he- he hadn't even been able to help her in her final moments, or be there to try and change the tide-

So that was one of the reasons Sora had decided to come back and try it again, when given that miraculous opportunity.

That, and for a few other reasons, maybe…

So... Sora had found a way to alter fate, to try and change events and save Kairi. And in Sora’s book, that meant doing everything differently than what had happened last time.

If they had fought the mogs in the timeline before, this time they simply wouldn’t and would escape them instead. Anything to make sure that Kairi didn’t become a casualty to Xion’s revenge once more!

So, Sora was hoping to skirt by the mogs here... or maybe have Kairi connect to the planet like Pence eventually had, so she could get some magic herself.

But it wasn’t lost on Sora that him maybe trying to find a way to force the planet to give Kairi magic—since it wasn’t fair to him that she didn’t have it, when she was fighting for Earth—made him a bit like Xehanort: Someone who had actually been from Lorien, Sora’s home planet, he’d been shocked to find out. And had wanted to change things there, because he thought it wasn’t right that some people got the powers jackpot and others didn’t. And he’d wanted to alter things so everyone could have them. And he’d enlisted the Mogadorians for help, since they were jealous of Lorien and of course would have aided him with that. And then everything had spiraled out of control…

“Sora, babe. You’re spacing out on me. I don’t like it. It reminds me of when you actually thought I’d give up on us—and that I wasn’t under duress when I was forced to say all those things to you and that I wasn’t doing it to protect you—and then you started smooching Elrena because of it. Talk to me, please.”

Well, Sora felt like he’d been slapped in the face. And maybe he still deserved it after that whole thing, even though he knew Kairi had completely forgiven him for it. And even though they were all best friends with Elrena, of course, and she was actually dating another human, Pence, who had also been a great aid to them through all of this, and had gotten some of the aforementioned magic from Earth.

But Kairi was definitely right. It seemed like whenever they didn’t get to talk—and actually be their best together—things like that happened… or they got separated… or she got killed. So, Sora knew he needed to trust in the best girl he’d ever met and tell her the truth, if they had any hope of combatting this fate. But he didn’t even want to say the words. He felt like doing so would make them real.

“Is it really that bad, Sora?!” Kairi demanded, leaning close to him and kissing him on the cheek, clearly teasing him in the moment, before she pulled away and asked, “What? Are you going to tell me you think my art actually isn’t that good?” And while Kairi was mostly messing with him, Sora could tell, he thought there was some slight worrying there, so he knew he would have to pull her aside and give her the real of it soon enough.

But if she felt safe enough to flirt with him now, she must have decided then, like he had, that the Mogs must have lost them; Sora just hoped that they’d gone back on their ship and would leave the civilians alone, though, and wouldn’t hurt anyone else over them.

Since he heard no more screaming at the moment, he took that as a good sign and grabbed Kairi’s hand to begin leading her towards a restaurant that had just caught his eye. “Hey, Kairi. Look at this! They sell fair food here! Reminds me of our first date! What do you say we get a bite to eat here, and I’ll explain everything? I promise!”

Kairi looked at Sora dubiously for a moment, as if she thought he was using eating as a way to avoid the issue, but after a second she must have realized something, because she squeezed his hand softly and laughed, “I have missed fatty foods, like funnel cakes, since I’ve been trying to get fit so I can help you guys fight. So, this sounds nice… partly because it’s like our first date, yeah. But you’re totally flipping the bill, though.” And Sora smiled. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

…

“Before we get into the heavy, Kairi… might we take a moment to look at the cool photos on the walls? You said you thought about getting into photography before deciding you’d rather make trinkets, right? So-”

“Sora!” Kairi exclaimed, clearly not amused in the slightest. And she looked like she might even take away his caramel apple to bump him on the hand with it, if he didn’t keep his promise to her soon.

Sora sighed, while Kairi beamed when one of the restaurant owners came to add cherries to her funnel cake. “You really want to get into the heavy already?”

“Yes!” she urged, just as soon as the worker had left their table. “We need a plan to defeat the Mogs, after all. So, I really need to know everything here. If you leave me out of important battle plans, how will we-”

“Okay, Kairi,” Sora said, interrupting her, because if he was going to do this, he needed to do it fast. Before he lost his nerve. Sora reached across the table to hold Kairi’s hand before he could think about it. He didn’t know who would need the contact more as he told this story—him or her, or both—but he figured that someone surely would. “I- I don’t even know how to say this. But I- I time traveled. I actually came back here from the future because you- you died.”

��Wait… what?!” Kairi gasped, tearing her hand away from Sora’s as she quickly got to her feet. And Sora knew it was probably from the shock of everything else more than anything, that she took her hand away from his, but it still sort of stung. He bit his lip in reaction to that, but then tried to stop it, because he didn’t need Kairi hurting even more now, in thinking he was hurting over her.

And in realizing that she was probably making a scene, Kairi quickly put a hand over her mouth—as if she was trying to remind herself to speak more quietly—and began whispering urgently, “How is that- how is that even possible?! I didn’t know you guys could time travel!”

And if Sora were a betting man, he would have said that Kairi was probably in denial here and his words to her hadn’t really set in yet. Deciding to take a page from her book, Sora stood up and decided to have this conversation through whispers, too… but not that well with the whispering, because he’d never been good at this sort of thing. “We didn’t until after… yeah. It’s a long story, that one, tied to the abilities Pence got from planet Earth here. Yeah, Earth is like Lorien now and will give people powers if they help the planet to benefit. But I’ll tell you all of that later, if you want to know.”

“Yes, please do do that. I- I want to know how I died. Was it that I just sucked at fighting? Did I fail you all?” Kairi demanded. And there were tears in her voice. She was definitely crying now. The weight of it all had finally gotten to her, Sora saw. And she was swaying on her feet. Sora caught her instantly, and moved her so that she was sitting down once more, and sat back down himself. He took Kairi’s hand again—to try and give her some moral support here; but Lord knew that he needed it, too—and Kairi, despite everything, laced her fingers with his and smiled.

“No, Kairi. Not at all. I actually wasn’t there. And God, do I hate that so much now! You don’t even know! The team was convinced to split up! And for some reason, we both got it into our heads that it would be best, strategically, if the two of us separated. That it would be fine. But you, and Xion, and Marlene were overrun by Mogs. But the three of you actually did a wonderful job fending them off, I’m told. You especially. You should have made a retreat. And you three had plans to.

“But Xion saw the Mog who murdered Roxas… and it all went to Hell. She unleashed the full weight of her powers onto them. And with her telekinesis… God, Kairi, she actually sliced open your stomach with some of the nearby debris. That’s what killed you. It was Xion! By accident, I know. But it was Xion, too caught up in the moment and not realizing what she was doing!

“And you- You were so good about it all! You never complained once! Nor did you blame her! You didn’t even wish for more time, and I-

“This is also going to sound really stupid and selfish, Kairi… but hearing right after this, that Pence got powers… as happy as I was for him, as you know he’s one of my best friends… I guess I was kind of jealous for you. I wished Earth could have been giving humans magic before. And that you could have been one of the people it chose! You’ve done so much to help the Earth, I mean! And I couldn’t help thinking that maybe if you’d had some sort of special abilities, maybe it would have somehow made a difference… maybe you could have survived that day. So, when I was given the option of coming back, I didn’t waste it… I came straight back here. To you.”

Kairi had a far-away look in her eyes after Sora talked (he’d actually expected her to have more of a reaction as he spoke. But maybe in having heard it was Xion who did it, that somehow made it all okay for her?), and she pulled away from Sora. And this killed Sora, because he’d just poured his heart out to her and this was how she reacted?!

And reliving Kairi’s death was also putting him through the ringer! Sora remembered seeing her body… after. Even though he’d tried to block the image from his mind so many times, and still really was. He’d felt her cold, lifeless hand and just held onto it for the longest time, unable to look at her face, as he muttered apologizes and refused to leave her. And now that Sora was back here with a beautiful, living and breathing Kairi, he needed to push that memory back as far as it would go by Kairi’s warm touch here… so why was she removing herself from him?

And why did it look as though she’d discovered all the mysteries of the worlds, if the wise look on her face was anything to go by?

“Sora…” Kairi said at once, slowly, deliberately. She was still whispering, but not quite as quietly as before. “First of all… you mustn’t blame Xion. It- it wasn’t her fault. It was an accident. Who would have known what would happen? I- I don’t blame her. I don’t. And apparently, I didn’t back then, either. And now that I’m… alive again. It really is water under the bridge. And who’s to say that if things had been reversed, and I had died first, that you wouldn’t have reacted much the same way, and that Xion might not have lost Roxas over you? …I hate to say it, my love. You know I do. But I’m just trying to vouch for Xion some here, as you know she’s also my friend.

“But I also get why you felt the way you did. Of course, I do! Emotions make no sense, I mean. And I might have acted like you did, too!” And Kairi grabbed Sora’s hand, so she held both of them now, and gave them a squeeze and kissed them. She then gave Sora a slight nod, and he thought he might have been falling in love all over again.

And he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. In some ways… it felt good to hear Kairi say these things. Because while she had somewhat torn him a new one, for how he’d felt about Xion, it was good to know that Kairi didn’t blame the girl. Sora had only gotten it from secondhand accounts that Kairi hadn’t blamed Xion, after all. And part of him had wondered if he’d done wrong in letting Xion be apart of Kairi’s… funeral back then. So, to hear all of this from Kairi herself put his soul at ease some.

And maybe it could even lead to him making strides to being okay with Xion again himself. He knew the Xion of this timeline was baffled as to why he could hardly look at or speak to her, and it did make him feel terrible.

“Kairi, thank you,” Sora was about to say, and lean in to kiss her cheek, but it seemed she wasn’t quite done yet.

“…But what worries me, Sora… is that, from how I understand it, is that what you’re imagining about powers… is sort of like what Xehanort thought. We thought you might be reincarnated from your planet’s original great leader, Tetsuya Nomura, so try to draw more connections between him and yourself. Not you and Xehanort… Sora, I fear that you coming back to save me was a mistake for you with this.”

“No, Kairi. Not a mistake. Never that!” He reassured her, by getting out of his seat so he could hold her face gently and lean into her for a sweet kiss. And Sora was thrilled by the way that Kairi seemed to swoon into it—she even got up from her seat, as the gesture went on for a bit—and her foot even popped with it. He didn’t want her to really start doubting him or anything like that.

And when he pulled away from her, her eyes were definitely starry-eyed. “Sora, I love you,” Kairi all-but sang to him.

“And I love you, too, Kairi. So, so much! You don’t even know! It’s like Donald said! Loriens only fall in love once… and with me, that’s you. So that’s why I had to do this. I had to!” Sora explained, just giving Kairi a hug now… so they could relax, and breathe, and just be.

“I know,” Kairi promised him. “And we’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it all out. We’ve kept the Mogs running from us for a long time, and we’ll keep them running even longer. Forever!”

“Heh,” one of the restaurant owners spoke up now now, as he swept the place a little—Sora had actually forgotten all about all of the workers at this small establishment. Oops!—“that’s quite the show you two have put on over there. You’re some good actors. We don’t actually get a lot of kids coming in here for some reason. You’d think more people would be interested in a carnival restaurant. But, nope! Here. Why don’t I get you both some vanilla ice cream on the house?”

And the man did just that.

And Kairi gave Sora some of her cherries, so Sora—along with her—could put them on his ice cream scoop, so that it looked like Mickey Mouse for funsies. They then clinked their ice cream bowls together and enjoyed the rest of their date.

And Sora knew they’d enjoy the rest of their lives together like this, too. They would find a way. They just had to!

Author’s Note: So… I have not finished reading the The Lorien Legacies/I am Number Four series. I actually stopped right after Sarah died. Not because that necessarily made me want to stop reading, or anything like that, but because I’m sort of torn on how I want it to go forward from there. In my opinion, there are two ways it can go… and I can see it going either way (and I can get why it would go either way, and would somewhat appreciate both), but I don’t know if either would fully make me happy.

Either we DON’T bring Sarah back, which would be pretty sad and I WOULD miss her.

Or we DO bring her back, which would be nice, but it would trivialize death some, in a series that so far hasn’t done that and I also don’t know if I want that.

I don’t really know what I want, and thus I haven’t read further yet… But I really need to, because I DO love this book series and it’s actually one of my favorites.

So, all of this is actually some of my thoughts and theories on where it maybe goes past that point. I may be dead wrong. I probably am, in fact!

Anyway, John and Sarah have always reminded me of Sora and Kairi, in some ways, so I thought I’d write this. Originally, I actually started this for next year’s (yeah, I was starting WAY early) SoKai Week’s “AU Day”, but I decided I’d just finish it and post it for SoKai Day instead. I have another idea I can use for next year’s AU Day, instead.

Though, tbh, while I like Sarah and the John/Sarah plot, I don’t always think they’re handled that well… which I could also say about Kairi and Sora/Kairi, sadly. So, that’s another thing they have in common. And perhaps one of the many reasons they sort of remind me of each other.

“Xehanort” in this is the The Lorien Legacies’ “Setrákus Ra”. And “Tetsuya Nomura” in this (pfft) is the The Lorien Legacies’ “Pittacus Lore.”

Anyway, I hope even one person liked this. LOL

Happy SoKai Day!

And may we get KH news—and SoKai stuff—soon, because this year without it was hard.

#sokai day #sokai day 2021 #au #alternate universe #crossover #crossover with i am number four #crossover with the lorien legacies #sora and kairi as john and sarah #sora and kairi as four and sarah #sokai #kaiora #sorakairi #kh #kingdom hearts #sora #kairi #mine #my work #shanna writes

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s-c-r-i-p-s-i · 4 years ago

Text

Cruel to be Kind

[Dead by Baelight’s Kinktober // Day 3, 17, and 24 : Knifeplay, Bond, Basement]

🖤 🖤 🖤

“You gonna tell me what we’re doing here, or…?”

“I mean I could,” Danny conceded, casually throwing up his hand in a sort of shrug gesture that Frank was positive was specifically manufactured to show off his knife and the fact that he was holding it, steel glinting menacingly in the unnaturally red light of the basement.

“But that would ruin the surprise.”

🖤 🖤 🖤 Pairing: Ghostface (Danny Johnson) x Legion (Frank Morrison)

Rating: Explicit

CW: homophobia, non-con/dub-con, knifeplay, bondage, smut, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2,828

“Well, well, well. What do we have here…”

Incredulous, Frank squinted at the man through the pinhole slits of his mask, lip curling over his teeth. “I - You’re literally the one that did this. You haven’t even left the room.”

Ghostface had torn him away from the lodge and tied him to this fucking chair in the basement - and Frank had been helpless to stop it, because even with all their God-given gifts from the Entity, Danny was still stronger than him.

All the others had fucked off, Joey in a Trial somewhere, and Jules and Sooz were… doing their thing. (God help anyone who fucked with ‘girl’s night, that shit was sacred.)

The minute he’d been left alone, that fucker swooped in like he’d been waiting - shit, maybe he had been. Creepy bastard.

And now he had the audacity to act like he’d just stumbled on him here? For - what - dramatic effect?

The man deflated exaggeratedly, his head flopping to the side like his neck suddenly just couldn’t support it anymore. “Don’t be a party pooper, Frank.” He sighed, somehow managing to make even disappointment reek of dishonesty and condescension. Nothing about that guy was real. Not a goddamn thing.

Releasing a nostril-flaring, profoundly annoyed breath out from his nose, Frank bunched his hands into fists so tight his fingers cracked and tried testing out his restraints behind his back. He wasn’t terribly surprised to find the ropes completely unyielding, but it still shot an ample dose of pure, uncut panic right into the mainline. Not that he’d ever fucking show it. Frank didn’t even want to think about the level of sadistic glee Danny would bag from that. A whole metric fuckton, he was sure. “You gonna tell me what we’re doing here, or…?”

Frank did not like it there. It was the place where the veil - if there was such a thing - between the realm and the Entity was the thinnest. The place where her whispers were the loudest. It gave him the creeps. Of fucking course Ghostface would feel right at home there.

“But that would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?” There was a beat of silence, just long enough for Frank to realize what a stupid fucking question that was.

“…I’m starting to think you don’t grasp the concept of ‘surprise.’ That’s fine.” He said, hooking his knife underneath Frank’s hood and knocking it off his head, gently tracing the flat of the blade along the side of his neck. It was cold against his skin, and he had to reign in a shiver. “I never did pick ‘em for their brains.”

Pick… who? Frank wondered. His victims? “If you kill me I’ll just come back,” Frank scoffed a little too quickly, sounding nervous even to him. Dying fucking hurt. And it’s not like it happened all that often for him to have built up some kind of tolerance to it - if that was even a thing. “What’s the point in that?”

“Very astute, Frank,” Danny cooed, quietly flipping the blade so that the sharp side was just grazing Frank’s neck. “But…” He continued, leaned back and quiet, like he was distractedly admiring the sight. “I think that overlooks an awfully big part of the whole appeal. Don’t get me wrong; I’ll admit, that little caveat can be a little… dissatisfying at times. But I’ve never killed people just because I want them to stop existing. That’s boring.”

If he weren’t literally being held at knifepoint, Frank would have let his head fall back with a groan. Did he ask for a fucking monologue? Was that why he tied him up? So he’d be a captive audience to his bullshit?

“No,” Danny continued, “Sometimes… You just want to watch ‘em bleed.”

A sharp, stinging pain biting through his neck had Frank suddenly sitting up a little straighter, muscles clenching at that zing that shot through him.

That son of a bitch actually cut him!

“Fuck. Off.” Frank grit out.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Frank grunted at the weight of the other man suddenly dropping himself into his open lap, no warning or discretion, just plopping down and straddling him like he owned the place. Once Frank got over the initial shock he immediately tried to jerk away in protest. Shit, Danny was surprisingly dense for someone so short. Heavy. “What the fuck are you eating, guy?! Get the hell off me, you fucking… fag.”

Another beat of silence that seemed intentionally timed to make him start regretting it. Not that he needed any time to regret it. Saying it always made him feel fucking gross. But he’d rather just bullheadedly… keep on keeping on than actually acknowledge that weird ass feeling.

“Hm.” Danny lifted Franks mask, sliding it up and off his face to rest on top of his head. “That’s an awful nasty word for someone who regularly fools around with another guy, himself, don’t you think?”

It didn’t even feel like it was supposed to be a stinger, it felt like he was just… asking. Taking off his mask like this was some kind of personal aside, just your friendly neighborhood Ghostface, checking in. It only pissed Frank off more, clenching his teeth tightly before finally responding.

“That’s fucking different. I’m not gay.” Most of the time that he was with Joey… that way - which was the only thing he could possibly be alluding to - it was all of them. Together. Threesomes or foursomes or whatever weren’t gay. It was hardly ever just the two of them; sometimes he had Joey blow him or something but that was it. And even if they did do shit - that was Legion. It was different. Danny wouldn’t understand. (How could he? He didn’t have anyone or anything.)

“Call it what you want, handsome.”

Frank’s lips couldn’t help but tug in two different directions at that little nickname, like he didn’t know whether he wanted to scowl or laugh. The middle ground was an embarrassing, wobbly, stupid little smirk that he just couldn’t seem to wipe off his face.

Mercifully, Danny didn’t call any attention to it. Returning the knife to his neck - on the opposite side now, Danny dragged it around to catch just under Frank’s chin, forcing his face up. Frank put on a tough face, jaw clenched, chin jut resolutely, eyes full of defiance, but he was hanging off every word and the bastard knew it. It was just - he was taking that little barb suspiciously well, and part of him was kind of just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to plunge the knife straight through his throat.

Instead, he leaned in and said “…But a spade’s a spade.” Then… he just eased off. Removed the knife. Pulled back.

And just when Frank thought he could take a breather -

“So you like dick!” Ghostface announced like it was one half of a headline, and far too loudly for comfort.

Frank visibly startled at the emotional whiplash, blinking back shock and incredulously glancing around the basement for witnesses even though he knew it was just the two of them. His mouth hung open, tongue buzzing with some acidic, half baked response that he never managed to get out.

“Big deal, that’s nothing to be ashamed of! And- not that it did before- but what the hell makes you think that kind of thing matters here? What are you scared of? The survivors? The Entity? You think big momma in the sky is gonna fucking… Spank you? She doesn’t care.” Danny huffed, clearly amused.

“I don’t-…” Frank sighed, gaze averted. He was tired of arguing, and hoped the note of… genuity? Would make him fucking drop it.

Fat chance.

In retrospect, maybe he should have just gone down kicking and screaming.

His attempt to deny everything was swiftly interrupted by a breathy laugh that Frank was disgusted to discover he actually found kind of cute. Until he promptly ruined it.

“Sorry - what was that? I can’t hear you over the fucking boner that’s been brewing ever since I sat down. You know your dick kinda jumps whenever I hold the knife to your throat?” Danny shook his head, chuckling. “No offense - but I think whether or not you’re gay is the least of your problems, you adorable little sicko.”

Furious, indignant heat shot up to the surface, Frank’s face becoming utterly inflamed as he burst out the first thing that came to mind. “F-fuck you!”

Okay - it wasn’t a particular intelligent, or even good response, but what the hell else could he say? If he was free, he’d just start talking with his fists, (or his boots, or his teeth) but there wasn’t shit he could do. Not that he wasn’t champing at the bit to try, struggling against the restraints so hard the friction was starting to make his wrists feel raw.

“No…” Frank could just hear the shitty smile in his voice as he put the knife away. “That’s not how it’s gonna go. You can blow me though!” Danny decided cheerfully, hopping off his lap and resting his hands on his hips, looking down at him expectantly. He had to be joking - he had to. But he didn’t even budge.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! I’m not going to-”

“Sorry,” Danny gestured dismissively, as if he could just wave away the opposition, “Let me be more clear.” He told him, the smile gone from his voice as he spoke slowly, with a dangerous precision. It was such a severe tonal shift that Frank actually stopped struggling just to listen.

“You’re going to blow me. And if I feel any fucking teeth, I’m going to kill you, and every one of your friends.”

He felt the jolt in his core, but didn’t quite connect the dots that his body had reacted until he heard Danny snort, and realized that - not only was he right about his dick twitching, but Danny was playing him like a fucking fiddle. That wasn’t a threat, it was dirty talk. And he fell right for it.

Frank had to admit, the logistics of how he was going to do this while tied up weren’t exactly at the forefront of his mind as Danny began pushing the opening of his coat aside and tinkering with his pants.

And maybe he should have been more concerned, but asking would have been too close to - he didn’t know, acceptance? And he was still stubbornly clinging to the idea that he didn’t want this, despite the evidence on full display to God, the Entity, and whatever the fuck else was out there, no amount of twisting around doing anything whatsoever to conceal the painfully obvious bulge in his pants.

What he was thinking, was how it was kind of fucked up that the first real flash of skin he’d ever seen of the guy was his dick. That was like glory hole levels of dirty; it should have squicked him out that he had no idea what the guy looked like underneath that mask, should have had bile crawling up his throat, but it didn’t. He had a lot of pretty clear expectations in his mind about how he should have been feeling at that moment. But maybe Danny was right, maybe he was more fucked up than he thought. Because all he could feel was hunger.

Frank would be hard pressed to call another man’s cock pretty, okay - but it kind of was. He was paler than he was expecting, and he wasn’t sure why, he’d probably seen pictures of him at one point or another, international sensation that he was, but fuck if he ever paid any attention to the news. But he was from Utah or some shit, and Frank didn’t know all that much about the US but he guessed it made sense that he was whitebread whitebread. It just made it incredibly obvious how flushed it was, so very, very pink. It might have been funny, if it weren’t intimidatingly massive. Kind of lean - Frank could definitely say he was thicker, and yes, he was immediately mentally comparing like it was some kind of competition - but long. Sleek. With a glint of metal at the tip - that was unexpected.

“That’s right,” Danny hummed, gloved hand stroking himself to grip at the base, cock head swelling as he flexed it. He was fucking incorrigible, the cheeky bastard. “Keep staring. You’re really selling me on the heterosexuality.”

Fuck - that’s right, his mask was off. His eyeline, and his every goddamn expression completely out in the open. He was pretty sure he was still scowling - that was just the default - but he wasn’t sure it was terribly convincing.

“Someday, Frankie, you’ll realize what a gift this is,” He continued, faux-wistfully as he stalked forwards and grabbed the posts on either side of the chair back. For someone who wasn’t all that tall, he was awfully good at looming. Commanding attention, like he was the only thing in Frank’s entire field of vision.

The chair started to slowly tip forward, back legs lifting off the floor. Frank’s stomach lurched, and he immediately barked out in protests. “Hey!”

“Really - you should be thanking me,” Danny ignored him, steering the chairposts, dragging them down, down, down, tipping him further and further forward.

Frank felt like his heart was going to fall through his ass, if he didn’t go into cardiac arrest, first. Danny’s cock was practically in his face now, but all his lizard brain could think about was how he was going to fall flat on his fucking face, his arms frantically struggling to break free from behind his back so he could catch himself.

He couldn’t possibly be intending to…

“No teeth,” He warned, before pulling Frank down onto his cock by the chairposts, driving him down until he was forced to take him into his mouth. Danny sighed in relief at the warm, wet heat, guiding him down, unbothered by the choked sound of panic muffled around his cock as a particularly sharp falling sensation shot through Frank’s gut.

“Taking your choice away is the best thing that could happen to you.”

Oh, if looks could kill. Frank’s eyes were filled with hate, tears pricking at the corners as his nose finally bumped against Danny’s pelvis. The mask was looking down at him, unchanging expression mocking while he fought just to breathe, noisily and erratically shuddering through his nose, the intrusion down his throat making it feel like he was perpetually choking on top of perpetually falling.

“Now you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about it, or what it means about you,” Danny continued blissfully, rocking the chair back and forth, guiding him up and down on his cock like he was nothing more than a fleshlight. Frank’s frantic heaving was starting to sound wet, snot loosening down his nose as he desperately snivelled for air.

And yet despite it all, he could still feel that dull hum in his core. Muted, slightly, by the glut of overstimulation everywhere else, but there nonetheless, and constant. Begging for just a little of that attention to be directed there.

“You can always just say it was my fault. That I made you.”

Frank could hardly track what he was saying, but that feeling in the bottom of his stomach was starting to get sharper, an urgent fullness that was becoming more and more demanding by the second.

“And you’ll never have to learn-” Danny interrupted himself with a short grunt, and Frank could feel his cock twitch in the back of his throat, “Or grow or self-reflect. Aren’t I nice?” He pulled out, and the sound Frank made as he gasped for air wasn’t pretty, snapping the thick threads of spit still connecting them.

Danny kept him suspended there, one-handedly holding up the chair while the other lowered to pump at his spit drenched erection. “Thank me.” He growled.

“F-fuck you.” Frank managed to choke out, feeling pretty proud of himself until warmth splattered across his face, and hot mortification rushed to the surface. But apparently not even the embarrassment of Danny cumming on his face was enough to tamp down his want, arousal flaring parallel.

“Hm.”

Suddenly he was thrown back, chair clattering and pain shooting through his arms as he collided with the floor.

“Surprise,” Danny’s voice floated down to him, colder than he’d ever heard it as Frank’s vision struggled to come together in one picture.

Two Danny’s hovering over him. Two knives glinting menacingly in the unnaturally red light of the basement.

“Maybe you should have thanked me.” 🖤 🖤 🖤

Thank you for reading!!!

🖤 🖤 🖤

Notes:

For Pugge, without whom, the DBB server - and this fic - would probably not exist. 💖

Thank you to Rea for being my beta for this one, and the whole DBB server for encouraging this humble degen 🥺 Update: OMG thank you to @ApolloPale for taking inspiration from dis humble oneshot and drawing this piece! Which is now the Header!

This piece was written for Day 3, 17, and 24 of the 🔞 Dead by Baelight 🔞 Discord server’s Kinktober. Anyone over 18 is welcome to join here.

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd ghostface #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen #dbd legion #frank morrison #scripsi #my writing #oneshot

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miracalicethebookgirl · 4 years ago

Text

The Phony and the Famous Pt. 5

AO3

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4.

Summary: Lila spreads lies about being famous with worldwide connections to increase her local popularity. She’s confident that Marinette will never be able to prove otherwise. What she, and even Marinette herself, don’t realize is that Marinette won’t have to do any of that to come out on top. - A story in which everything Lila lies about, Marinette turns into reality for herself, usually unknowingly (our girl is quite the lucky one, after all).

A brief explanation: The last chapter was a bit confusing as to how Mister Bug appeared. When people turned into animals, all their clothing and accessories were left behind. When Marinette turned into a hamster her earrings fell off, so Tikki took them to Chat. Adrien switched out his Miraculous since it’s still unknown if something happens by wearing both the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous (not sure if Gamer 2.0 counts). After the fight he switched back and Tikki returned the earrings to Marinette.

…

“I'm good friends with the best manga publisher in Japan, you know. I can talk to them about your comic book project if you like.”

Season 3, “Ladybug”

…

“Name?”

“Oh! Uh, Astruc, Thomas.”

The girl hummed thoughtfully as she shuffled through the festival passes on the table. “That name sounds familiar. Did you work on a recent film or something?”

“Yes, actually! I was the director of The Adventures of Lady—”

“Here it is!” the girl exclaimed, pulling out the lanyard pass from the stack and adding some pamphlets to her hand. “Keep your pass on you at all times. The first pamphlet will provide you with a general map of the Champs-Élysées. The area is split up by genre and your second pamphlet will tell you which film categories will be playing on which day. If you have any questions just ask a volunteer. Welcome to the Young Artists Film Festival!”

With that, Thomas Astruc was ushered along to allow the next person to check in.

He was a little put out that he was yet again dismissed despite his role in the production of a movie that was widely popular in France. But what could he do besides shake his head and accept it? He could brag all he wanted about it but unless he made as big a name as Steven Basielberg, people would simply continue to shrug and dismiss him.

Rather than spoil his mood with such thoughts, Thomas figured he’d keep a low profile and just enjoy the festivities. It always intrigued him to see what new edgy or comedic or introspective pieces the young minds of France could create. So he spent an hour watching several animated shorts created by students and noted interesting stylistic choices and the most popular narratives. He debated going to see one of the feature length films that were highlighted for the day when he heard someone excitedly call out his name.

“Oh my gosh, Monsieur Astruc! Monsieur Astruc!”

He turned and saw a pigtailed teenage girl wave and run up to him, followed by—he blinked owlishly—Adrien Agreste, who had another girl latched to his arm. He looked back at the girl who called to him.

“You look a bit familiar to me. Have we met before?”

The girl didn’t seem bothered by his question. “It was only briefly, but we met at the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie premiere a few months back. I was the person you gave up your seat to. I’m still so thankful that you did that for me! Aside from the akuma—no offense—and a couple other people…the premiere was actually kind of fun.”

The other two teens finally reached them. The girl on Adrien’s arm gave a small gasp.

“Oh, Marinette, you were at the Ladybug movie premiere? I heard you went as one of the waitresses. I would have been there too, but I told the movie director that I had another movie project lined up. You see, being Ladybug’s best friend, I had a big say in how the heroes in the movie were portrayed so they could be as accurate as possible.”

The other three stood silent for a moment. One in confusion and the other two in exasperation.

“Who did you say you were again?” Thomas asked, wondering if he really did forget such a person.

“Oh, silly me,” the girl tittered, “where are my manners? I’m Lila Rossi, sort of an expert in all things Ladybug. And in case you also didn’t know,” she pulled Adrien closer to herself, “this is Adrien Agreste. He voiced Chat Noir in the movie but he’s also a model for Gabriel. We actually model together.”

Adrien brought a fist to his mouth and gave a small cough.

Is he covering a smile? Thomas thought to himself. Well, he couldn’t blame the boy. This girl obviously didn’t know whose company she was in. Thomas would have also laughed if the thought didn’t make him feel so dejected.

“Um, Lila,” Adrien politely began, “let me introduce you to Thomas Astruc. Monsieur Astruc is the artistic director of The Adventures of Ladybug and Chat Noir.” He paused. “The Movie.”

As they all watched the emotions play across Lila’s face, it was the other girl, Marinette’s, turn to try and smother a giggle. She wasn’t as successful as Adrien but at the fury that passed across Lila’s face, she quickly brought the conversation elsewhere.

“Sir, I never did get to introduce myself to you, which I guess was a little rude at the time. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I admit, I was a little skeptical when I first watched the trailer because Ladybug and Chat Noir didn’t sound anything like the real heroes. But once I watched the movie, it was actually really good!”

Thomas laughed good-naturedly. “That’s quite alright. I knew some people would be disappointed that the movie wasn’t an account of true events. That was the point of the disclaimer ‘based on Ladybug and Chat Noir.’” He took a moment to discreetly eye Lila. “The script writers and I didn’t want to confine ourselves to real life. We took our artistic license and ran with it, if you will. Especially since we don’t know everything there is to know about the Miraculous or the identities of the main players. Can you imagine Ladybug being scared of cats? Or if Hawkmoth were actually Chat Noir’s dad?”

Marinette laughed with him at those hypotheticals. Adrien chuckled along a bit more nervously, though Thomas figured the young man was just trying to imagine Gabriel Agreste as a supervillain, considering Adrien voiced the aforementioned hero. Lila had taken on a stoic face, and he guiltily hoped she learned some humility from her embarrassment.

Then something from earlier clicked in his mind.

“Did you say your name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette stopped laughing and looked at him questioningly. “Yeah, I did.”

Thomas’s eyes lit up. “So you’re the Marinette Dupain-Cheng whose designs are sought after by several celebrities and whose talents caught the attention of one of the biggest film studios in Europe?!”

Face turning red at the acknowledgement, Marinette nodded timidly. Adrien reached out and put a hand on her shoulder as he smiled proudly. “And those are only some of her accomplishments. I bet she’ll go even further in whatever she does.” His eyes twitched a little when Lila gave a small noise of derision.

Thomas agreed with the boy. Miss Dupain-Cheng may be a relatively new name running in Parisian circles, especially with the crocodile debacle and zoo fundraiser, but she was proving to be more than just a flash in the pan. If anything, she was gaining more momentum in her fame as time passed, due in part by the recently confirmed rumors of her association with Graham Films. Thomas thought hard.

The animation studio he previously worked with for the Ladybug movie was offering him a contract for a new animated film. The studio anticipated that the project wouldn’t receive as much attention as the Ladybug movie did, but Thomas acknowledged that it was a given. However, if he could attach some big names to the film, that might be even better promotion than the simple “from the producers of the hit film Ladybug!” tagline could provide. Bringing Marinette on board would be a more than stellar start.

“What is the project that you and Graham Films working on right now?” he questioned, genuinely curious. “And when is post-production? If you don’t have any other film projects lined up, I happen to be gathering a team right now for an original animated film and we would love to work with someone of your talents!”

Thomas was disappointed to see her shake her head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, Monsieur Astruc. The movie with Graham Films is a one-time thing since I’m hoping for more fashion-centered work.” Her tone then turned thoughtful. “What kind of movie is yours going to be?”

“It’ll be a new superhero movie. I’m considering integrating it into the same universe as the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie.”

Adrien’s eyes lit up. “That sounds really cool! I hope you’ll let me voice Chat Noir again if he and Ladybug make a cameo or maybe even have a sequel!”

Thomas laughed, appreciative of the boy’s eagerness. The cameo bit wasn’t a bad idea at all.

“Monsieur Astruc,” Marinette began tentatively, “would you be opposed to taking on other young talent since I won’t be able to?”

He blinked. “Unless they have an exceptional portfolio and prior experience, I don’t think it would be very likely that they’d be hired. But,” he added when he saw the girl slump, “I’m very open to bringing some interns to the team.”

Thomas noticed Adrien perk up, looking like he knew exactly what his friend was leading up to. Lila merely turned her head away, seeming to be ignoring the rest of the conversation.

“I know some people who would love that!” Marinette exclaimed. “And I can speak for their talent in both writing and drawing about superheroes.”

Intrigued, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to hear her out.

…

A week later at the studio, Thomas and his production team stood up from their chairs to shake hands with the young men who they would be taking under their wings as interns.

“I look forward to working with you two gentlemen,” he said to them. “Your ideas are great and hopefully this internship and stories of my own journey from character doodling to filmmaking can help you get your own comics off the ground.”

Marc Anciel blushed. Nathaniel Kurtzberg beamed and replied, “I can’t wait to tell Marinette about this. I can’t believe she thought of us when you originally wanted her. I heard she couldn’t accept anyway, but still!”

“Marinette is always looking out for her friends,” Marc added softly.

When Thomas formally met Marinette, he recognized her for her fame and her talents. Since then, he began to realize just what a remarkable person she was. And so young too… He briefly pondered how old Ladybug and Chat Noir were. Surely not as young as his movie made them?

“People like that are hard to find but they do exist. Hold on tight to friendships like this. And remember that even though Marinette might seem amazing all on her own, being her friend means helping her out too.”

The boys seemed oddly sad (ashamed, in Nathaniel’s case?) for a moment, but Thomas only had a second to wonder about it before they smiled and nodded in agreement.

#ml fic #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #lila rossi #thomas astruc the character #minor appearances of #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel

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wrongwiredmind · 4 years ago

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Before I start saying anything I'd like to warn that the content of this post is both gore and contains suicidal thoughts, if any of that triggers you, please do not read, I care about whoever is reading but I can't hold any responsibility for anything that might follow, stay safe, and remember that no matter what, what comes next in your life will be better, one way or another.

This post is rather long, but that's kinda the point of this page, here we go, then.

So, I had almost my weirdest dream to date, right now, and then I thought, to heck with it!! Let's share something!

So first of all, I need to set some points straight before writing so it might explain a few things, hopefully, without giving a lot away about my personality:

(I have no idea how to put them on order, so they're pretty much a mumbo jumbo. Ah~ My favourite type of writing~. Kidding, of course, I actually prefer reading well written stories and articles)

Anyhow:. 1- I have a really deep unexplainable fear of the vast beast called an ocean (or a sea, or really anytype of deep water), I still go to the beach and pools and whatever, but there's always some sort of an icy grip tightening around my non-existent heart.

2- I love IronMan! So so much, and I kinda adopted Tony Stark!! (no one tell him, please!).

3- my adoration of a certain supernatural series made me love batman! (well, not entirely true, I always loved him, but kinda from afar, you get me?)

4- want me to get hooked on something? Give me a fanfic of it!! (of course like a series or a book, not a substance, you bad bad people!!), that's how I loved Bilbo!! (imagine me saying it in my adorable voice, the one I use when I try to sound cute 😉)

5- I binge read a certain fanfic about those two amazing superheroes saving the world, and themselves!! (I refuse to give up the name since if you think this is me oversharing? You've got another thing coming, honey!) that had a cruise and another prototype of the IronMan suit (don't ask which mark it is but it's so fast it broke the sound barrier!!)

6- I'm a little bit under the weather, (not corona, folks!) and my throat is kinda itchy, to the point that I lost all my vocal prowess for a little more than 24 hours a few days ago, still kinda annoying, and my stomach rebelled so much yesterday (before and during sleeping) that I thought she should take the rebellion symbol from Mr. Che Jivara!! (with all due respect to him, I'm only joking, so please no one takes it seriously).

7- I'm a little bit of a spacetoon (and all that's good and beautiful in our childhood) encyclopedia, want a name of a cartoon or a song you can't remember? I'm usually your best bet, after the second mother, google, of course!!

8- this week is so dead that if you want to see zombies come to our lectures any time in it, seriously we're so under a lot of exams, thank God and the doctors for postponing our tasks and assignments' due-date.

9- if I was a little more of an extrovert I might not have had to write most of these strange snippets about me in a freaking post!!!

And finally, on with the dream! (another thing you probably know by now, that I kinda take you around and under and left and right before I say what I want to say).

So, it was an assignment to some sort of subject (don't ask me which, since as far as I know, not a single thing in our curriculum will make me do what I'm about to do here, or at least, I hope so!!!), we made some type of fall-body suit that needed analysing (who am I kidding, it was the IronMan suit!!), and guess who was picked as a pilot? That's right! Yours truly!!

Anyway, good thing to bad, we had to make the prototype test in the middle of the (as I said above) the vast beast! Mr. Oceanus (I know that that is a Mr. Titan, but who am I, the lowly mortal, to deny his decision to appear in my paragraphs? And no, he didn't show up in the dream, thank God! [ours, not any of the others]),

So, I was put in the cruise, in the middle of the ocean, with the IronMan suit, and a seriously sick stomach, can you guess where we're going with this? (I'm actually kinda enjoying writing this since it reminds me of a certain mad superhero/not superhero who finally joined the XMen!, of course he joined a few years ago but I only watch the second movie circa a month ago) no? let me tell you, a bit of dizziness, seasickness, and an already rebellious stomach? Not a good combination, and remember that I really, really fear the ocean (just remembering the dream and the images in my head is traumatising, let alone living it vividly for a few hours), so, I fell, and strangely enough, I was a good swimmer (ah~ I really count my blessings here since no matter who or when someone taught me to swim, I still can't manage), I was able to stay close to the ship, but couldn't really pull myself up, so all I could do was keep a good hold on a rope tied around the ship and keep my legs in a calculated, slow what feels like a walking-in-place exercise,, (I can still feel the water around me, and the gentle waves of the ocean, it was both a calming feeling and a horrible one) and then...

Something touched the soles of my feet, and it kinda hurt, and it continued to move under me till something hit my toes, it was a shark fin, that's right, a shark choose me as his next meal, how honoured I was!!! Kidding i was kinda terrified, but all that YouTube survival videos came to mind, I left the rope of the ship and kinda dipped under water (triple scare, here, yikes!) and I... pushed.. his muzzle?

Yeah, so not really what they taught you in the videos, my polite nature rears its ugly head again (politeness is not as good as it seems, people! actually once a stray dog entered our home and jumped on the couch, and I was asking nicely and politely if "Mr. Dog would pretty please leave us be", and no, I wasn't scared but mom told me not to touch it, and it kinda was a cute, if a mangy mutt)

I didn't really want to punch the shark, even if my life kinda depended on it here, for a few reasons and actually at least one of them was pretty reasonable, which is, my punch is pretty weak, guys!!

Anyway, of course since its skin kinda scratched my feet there was blood, so it didn't leave me alone, two things I concluded here, first, Mr. Shark was either a lazy guy since he was coming to me slowly as if he either was a giant cat coming for pets no matter how many times you push her, or he was playing with his food, aka, me.

The second thing I discovered was that I was really sick in real life since my imagination couldn't conjure another family member of my guest here (again with the small mercies, can you imagine being alone around all these carnivores? And I bet not all of them will be moving so leisurely!!)

So, I finally decided to be the champ of my cruise and punch the thing in the face, so I pulled up all the power I can in my fist and punched him in his snout!!!

And let me tell you, it's not as easy is they make it sound, first, his nose is actually pretty hard, not the sensitive area they led us to believe, second, my hand really hurt and his skin scratched my knuckles, and I believe it kinda broke a bone in my hand, third, and worse, it actually enraged the mister so much that it left me, J-squared again and this time, flew! in my direction and I swear I still feel his teeth sinking in the shin of my right leg, but before he tore it apart, I actually did the right thing to defend myself, I (and I apologise, Mr. Dream shark, but you really hurt both my leg and my feelings!!) poked his eyes, which made for a very awkward stretch to my body, but finally, I was left alone!! With a mangled leg, of course, but hey!! It's not real life, so let's be glad.

The saltwater stinging my feet, still sick, and more dizzy from blood loss, you have no idea how glad was I that I was still near the ship, a little bit more than a meter but still floating, and then, the bad became worse, I actually goT SWALLOWED WHOLE BY A WHALE!!!!!!!!, YUP!! THE WHALE IN THE PICTURE!!!

And then god with his mercies again, it swallowed the ship but opened his mouth for me to leave, neat, ain't it?

But let me tell you what happened in a little more details, I felt a ripple in the water beneath and around me, and the ship started to sway, and a faint sound of something between a roar and strange song-like-sound, feeling the rumble under me was what made me look, and lo and behold!! The mighty animal wanted the meal that the shark didn't get, bye bye world!! Bye bye the suit that I still didn't to get to wear! And bye bye the report I needed to write for this freaking assignment that because of it I might fail and my friends will rail me when they see me!!

The ship and I couldn't help but enter the mouth of the humongous fish, the sounds of the wood, metal, glass and whatever is the cruise was made of was deafening, so loud and cruel, and I got a more than a few bruises and abrasions, and the feel of his teeth behind my back, sharp and huge and bigger than my own size, was something I don't know how to describe, and suddenly between all the breaking and suffocating water and absolute darkness, something caught my eyes, the slits in the helmet of the suit were lit, I'm sure it was a malfunction because of all the destruction on Mark, but it took all my fear, as if sucking it from my own eyes, and as sudden as it glowed, it vanished, but the calm remained, I closed my eyes, since it didn't matter, and just stopped everything, even trying to hold my breath, but not breathing as well, as if all body functions just... Stopped.

And then my eyes flew open again, not because I woke up, but because of an almost crushing change in the water pressure, it just pushed me forward more inside the huge mouth, and when I thought that this is it, I found the whale mouth moving further away from me, taking the ship and Mark with it, and leaving me alone, in the middle of the ocean that I wanted to say "c'mon!! If you ate me it'll be a win-win situation!!!!" but the second I opened my mouth water rushed inside that I tried swimming up to breath (even though not knowing which way is up was problematic, since something similar happened in real life before I wasn't worried, but that's a story for another time), breaking the surface was a godsend, I tell you! But my misery wasn't in any way over, I was so thirsty I actually wanted to drink salt water a again (and then death, oh wow, how smart?), and once the adrenaline deserted me, my leg returned to trying to kill me, and I don't know if it was a real thing if it happened in real life but it actually stopped bleeding, which was both fantastic, since it means that I won't die of bloodloss, and horrifying since I'm not going to die because of bloodloss, at least then I would have been able to calculate an approximate time for my death, but no, I have to wait and see what kills me next, I almost wished that I just had my previous stomachache and be done with.

Anyway, moving was not really an option, and staying was not either, and the breeze was making me so cold my teeth almost broke from all the shattering they were doing, I wasn't really sure when the others might decide to check on me, and I'm not really sure if I was still in the place they left me at, and I really didn't know what to do, I was so helpless, and cold, and thirsty, in so much pain and so so tired.

I cursed the whale again for not ending my misery, and cursed the shark for being a coward and not finishing what he started and cursing the assignment for being so impossible yet important, and most of all cursing myself, though I don't know why, but my self-loathing decided that now is the time to remember how horrible I am.

As physics does, the water raised me till I was floating on my back, which made me feel even more cold but I didn't have any energy to do anything about it, and strangely, I fell into some sort of doze, not asleep yet not really awake and aware, my whole body half above half into the water, though my right, injured leg, was bend in the knee into the water, which made my pained scream when something took hold of it in its mouth the more agonizing since it made my upper body enter the water, and the thing holding my leg left it alone, and I was able to right myself and look around me for the next threat, the fear was immense that I thought I might get a heartattack, which, admittedly would be better than the pain going to be inflicted upon me any second now, looking around finally led me to what attacked me, and for a moment, with my blurry, and fear filled eyes looked like Mr. Shark has indeed returned to finish what he started, he even returned to his play-with-my-food attitude, but when my eyes finally focused they detected differences, from the lighter shade of colors, to the more smooth curves of the fin and snout, and the gentle, warm (even if it looked sleepy) strange brown tone of the mammels eyes,

The dolphin was about two meters away, and looking at me with intense, twinkling eyes (if they were blue and he wore glasses, or at least marking that looks like it, I would have thought that the dolphin was Dumbledore' animagus and I really wouldn't have hesitated this time to punch his already crocked nose.. err.. snout [which it isn't, the dolphin's snout was perfect] with my broken hand!!) and moved slowly towards me, he pushed me gently with his nose in my abdomen, swam back a few inches, then entered the water and moved towards my leg, not touching it, but he was close enough to feel with my already almost destroyed sensitive nerves, he did all of that while I'm standing/floating, stupefied, hardly even breathing, and then he left, and pushed me again with his snout on my back, this time with more pressure that my body couldn't help but move to the dolphin's right side to let him pass, with my hand just above his back, when my hand touched his prominent back fin, he pushed my hip gently, as if telling me something, and pushed his fin into my hand again, it felt like rubber, and I couldn't help but ask "you want me to hold you?" he made a strange clicking noise then kinda slapped the water with his side fin in the other side of me, and bizarrely, his actions made me feel as if he was saying "are you stupid? Why else would I offer you my magnificent dorsal?!!" I stared, flummoxed, at the creature and couldn't help but throw my head back and laugh, I'm certain that it was the tension, fear and hysteria that made me do it, but for me, the whole situation was so hilarious that it seemed like it made Mr. Dolphin look at me and think "alright, the pathetic, hurt, star-shaped blemish is, indeed, stupid and needs help from my majesty" and then, using his right fin, slapped me non-too-gently on the side of my left hip, squeaking something as well and pushed his dorsal in my left hand again, but when he noticed my wince, he actually kinda rubbed his slippery appendage on my thigh while honest-to-god cooed at me that I couldn't help but smile at him, "it's okay, big guy, and thanks; you know, you kinda remind me of flipper!" and then I petted him a couple of times (which he purred at, I think I need a cat! 🤔🤔) then grabbed his fin in a tight but non constricting grip, my right hand was swollen by now so my only hope was to keep holding using my left hand, after shaking his body a little as if to check my hold, he dove with me into the water!! I almost screamed in fright but then he broke the surface and jumped about three meters high into the air!!!

Hello, there, adrenaline, didn't see you since a few!!

He dove again into the water and this time gradually moved towards the surface, with the water flowing into my hair and pushing me from my saviour, my left leg moved on its own violation and moved around the body as if I was riding a horse,

"WOOHOO!!", I shouted once we were in the air again, it was exhilarating; cold, but thrilling, though the warm body beneath me was perfect, he took me in a straight if slightly curvy line, and when I noticed that, I also noticed that his right fin was not moving as his left, I even thought he was injured for a second, but then a sharp sting in my leg and a slight jerk from him made me understand, my injured leg was beneath his wing-like appendage, and he was being considerate, as a solution, I flattened myself on his back, kept my left leg dangling as if in the horse saddle, my right one, as gently as possible, bend on the knee above the dolphin's back, my left hand gripping the top fin with it touching my shoulder, and my broken right hand above Mr. Flipper's cousin head, and then I came into a a sudden realization!! "does that mean I'm Lopaka????" I asked Flipper the second, and he made a sound suspiciously almost like a snort, but my change of position made him move in a much more pronounced straight line; the speed decreased as I started to doze again, as if he was worried about dislodging me, though the annoying feeling of the salt crusting on my skin woke me up, no idea how much time had past, except that the sun was on either the verge of descending or rising, and finally, finally, I saw land and buildings and what not from afar, and I certainly moved to another continent all together, let alone another country, after reaching the area where I could stand comfortably on the ground beneath the water, people started to come to see what was happening, I ignored them for the sake of my silent companion, suddenly he actually stood on his tail fin, and kinda sort of awkwardly leaned on me without trying to put too much pressure, I didn't understand what was happening though it seemed sorta like a hug?

Anyway, I pat his back again, (and again with the weird purring noise), when he released me I felt buzzing in the back pocket of my jeans, I actually still have my phone!!!

Pulling it out and snorting that after everything that happened my phone was still working!! all I could say is "well, it seems like the time of a picture, Mr. Flipper, sir!" and after an awkward kneeling so I could put my injured arm around him and trying to stretch my bloody leg (both meanings are accurate here, tbh) so it wouldn't interfere with the selfie, I positioned my left hand.

And the last thing I remember is the picture of my (Lopaka the second 😂) wide mouth grin and an equally wonderful grin from Mr. Flipper the second!!!

The End.

It really was a dream I had, with all these details, the only thing that's not entirely true about this post, is saying that this is the weirdest dream I had.

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frankpanioncube · 4 years ago

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Karaoke Night - I did this whole thing on one of my Discord Servers

So basically - it was the 7 main guys and what they’d do on Karaoke night.

I said I’d put it on my Tumblr...but it was going to be when I could do some linking to stuff: So I have put music vids, links to songs wherever they are and if nothing else - enjoy this

Lucifer: Can sing like a...well (fallen) angel. Is a lyrical baritone but can get up to some Tenor stuff.

Karaoke night is a hard thing to get him involved in because (and he recognizes it) he will be asked to do STUPID stuff.

They make him do Weird Al covers, Eminem...the lewdest crap they can imagine because...well..also - he can pull off a lot of stuff it's like 70 percent to irritate him and 30 because ....well...they all want to have him sing "Friend of the Devil" by Adam Jensen.

MC/Lucifer - they're doing Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman. "Time to Say Goodbye" and mC can't keep up with him...it's his show.

Lucifer/Mammon Duet: Mammon willl make Lucifer sing X Gonna Give it To ya (specifically the Deadpool version) and Mammon does most of the work here but but he is so invested int getting Lucifer to rap it's actually quite amazing.

Lucifer/Leviathan Duet: Carameldansen - Levi will pull off all the dance moves in the background and will back up Lucifer. Who will be stock still otherwise.

Lucifer/Satan Duet: It's Shia LaBouef. Satan is no singer but pulls off those spoken word bits - and Lucifer is ...okay until he realizes what he's singing about. It's an odd vibe - it's awesome and also very strange to watch.

Lucifer/Asmo Duet: It's "Mad World" but the live version from the Adam Lambert concert. Asmo is the vocalist and Lucifer does back up and by GOD it works.

Lucifer/Beel Duet: I'd Do Anything for Love - and it doesn't go how you'd expect - Vocally it's Beel's show - Lucifer turns off the kareoke player and plays the piano. It makes everyone watching very hot. it's a dangerous combo.

Lucifer/Belphie: I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. And BY GOD. It lands.

Karaoke Mammon:

Is the guy who figured out you can make dying whale noises in rockband to pass levels. And does it unappologetically. As a singer - not bad when he's trying. He could pull off something if he practiced. He has a good range but it's not refined. He can hit some contralto notes occasionally and some baritone stuff but very much lacks the practice.

Mammon on his own: Picks villain songs from musicals. He can do "Gaston" or "All you Wanna Do" from Six (much to Asmo's disgust).

Mammon and MC Duet: It's Tough to be a God from The Road to ElDorado. He'd love to do that and he makes a great Tulio to MC's Miguel.

Mammon and Lucifer: They do a duet of "Not a Common Man" - Mammon does a lot of musical stuff and he HATES Lucifer takes this one over. Cause the lyrics are him. Lucifer likes that he does the legwork on this.

Mammon and Leviathan: Butterfly by Crazy Town - to be fair - Levi thought it was Butterfly from the DDR game. However - between Mammon's voice and Levi's aptitudte for rhythm they manage this shockingly well.

Mammon and Satan: This duo isn't nearly as vicious to Lucifer as Belphie and Satan but - oh it's gonna get messy. Rage Unrestrained by Excessum and they're all going to the ER. Including Mammon. It's worth it.

Mammon and Asmo: THey do a duet of David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust. It gets chaotic. Both can't wait to be the centre of attention.

Mammon and Beel: Sex Bomb - Because even if it makes everyone feel sorta...weirdly sexual (and probably because he wants to stick it to Asmo) - Getting Beel to do some Tom Jones is a great idea.

Mammon and Belphie: The Real Slim Shady - Eminem - and they they can do it. And Belphie can pull that nasal stuff.

Karaoke Leviathan:

On his own: Does lots of anime and idol stuff of course. He's mediocre as a singer but pulls off all the dance moves well.

Levi on his own: Does exclusively stuff from his fave idol groups - not that he nails the vocals but he's not intolerable. He does nail the chorography.

Leviathan and MC - gets as many people invovled as he can and they do TRI-ANGLE feat BOA and the TRAX - They know if they flatter Mammon enough he'll do the break down.

Leviathan and Lucifer - Real Emotion - The idol song from FFX-2 - but Lucifer doesn't find the song that offensive and Levi can do the background dance stuff.

Leviathan and Mammon: X Japan's Rusty Nail. And if you haven't seen the music video to that - it's the epitome of 80ies/mid 90ies anime music vids. (plus I am in love with Hide and cried my eyes out over his suicide.) - they'd manage this one. Not without Mammon remembering the music video and SOBBING.

Leviathan and Asmo: Hey, they do this one song: Sinful Indulgence. It's from a popular Otome game. It's Asmo's show but Levi can keep up.

Leviathan and Satan: THey do the Local Butterfly Guy rap from Devilman Crybaby. It's best not to have Satan sing but he can get away with spoken word and raps quite well.

Leviathan and Beel: Has him doing Evil Food Eater Conchita from mothy. It's hard outside of his range but actually Levi pulls off the background vocals really well. He does some higher vocals well. Beel feels bad for the subject of the song...but sympathizes.

Leviathan and Belphie: Lizzy Hale and Lindsey Sterling's Shatter Me - Belphie can be convinced to do the ballet here and it's BEAUTIFUL. Neither Belphie nor Levi are the best of singers but they manage it together.And Belphie doing ballet is something to behold.

Karaoke Satan

He's just NOT a singer - It doesn't matter that much - He know it drives Lucifer nuts because Lucifer is lovely to listen to. But he's in two minds. He's either sober and refuses to embarrass himself or is three sheets to the wind and WILL embarrass not himself but Lucifer rather.

Satan on his Own: Will do William Shatner's spoken word version of Rocket Man. Can be convinced to rap but doesn't get into it too much.

Satan and MC: David Bowie's 'Space Oddity’. He's off key the whole time but no one cares - they manage to do the acting for it.

Satan and Lucifer : Here Comes the Snake by the Cherry Poppin' Daddies - It's rough but but Lucifer does the hard notes and Satan isn't pretty by any means but he does it a tad more spoken word. Lucifer does this like champ however. It winds up being way more attractive than it should be.

Satan and Mammon: Mammon does 'Every Last Motherfu*cker should Go Down' from Jerry Springer the Opera...and lets Satan choose if he wants to actually play Satan. He usually plays Jerry as a matter of fact. Up to the second half. After that Satan chokes it out. Because he'd love to stick it to Lucifer like that

Satan and Leviathan: An odd one - "Hell" By the Squirrel Nut Zippers. Levi would groove to it but everyone would enjoy joining in.

Satan and Asmo: (And everyone) Somebody to Love - Queen - and everyone shrieks it along. Cause Asmo would simply get in every one all in and that'd be that. Asmo's gonna hit that high note but Satan doing the song on his own isn't fabulous but he's backed by the whole group in the end.

Satan and Beel: Royal Oil by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones - Ska stuff works with Satan and Beel's rumble works with this song - it...didn't hurt that Satan explained what the song was about sometime LATER.

Satan and Belphie: Dark Personality by The Planet Smashers. Mammon gets to join in on this one - this is dedicated by that trio PERSONALLY to Lucifer. It's VICIOUS. Mammon is DEFINITELY in on skanking. He dances like a true rudeboy. Oh and so does Satan.

Karaoke Asmo

Is quite possibly the best Kareoke singer out there. It STINGS with him that he loses out to some of his brothers - Asmo's got charisma and sex appeal and a great voice...and well, that's actually where he loses. He's got this record quality voice and it tend to miss out on some of the kareoke appeal. Like that's the one place you're not supposed to be PERFECT singing and he IS. No fair!

Asmo on his own: Quite apart from this little ditty you may or may not of heard of "Sinful Indulgence" Asmo would do Marina Diamandos' alter Ego Electra Heart's "How to Be a Heartbreaker"

Asmo with MC: The Devil's Son by The Creepshow. It'd be verrry sexual. Asmo would however take over the song and be the singer - because it'd be right up his street.

Asmo and Lucifer: Nobody's Side - from CHESS. Lucifer does the intro to it just to get to get out of it - He plays the American (and does a fair job of it - he is after all quite vocally gifted) with Asmo as Florence.. Asmo is content to do the rest of the song. He's got the whole dramatic prodouction going on with it

Asmo and Mammon: If Mammon goes for Bowie, Asmo goes for Lady Gaga. They are going to do Applause and it's just as messy. They step all over eachother. Asmo's got the vocals to do it, Mammon's just simply not going to sit down for it and really won't outdo him on stage. It's a miracle they can throw it together.

Asmo and Leviathan: They're doing Pinball Wizard by the Who. They are actually a great team up for this song. Levi's got the moves and also digs the subject matter but Asmo gets to shine doing the lead singing on it

Asmo and Satan: Shut Me Up by Mindless Self Indulgence - Asmo is well aware that Satan can't carry a tune in a basket but is shockingly good at tempering him - Asmo is a great singer and can work with a lot. Satan's shrieking is actually quite awesome when paired with Asmo doing a sort of screechy emo/goth/metal thing himself. Asmo's the one you WANT paired with Satan should you not want to visit the emergency room later.

Asmo and Beel: They are doing Cab Calloway's Minnie the Moocher and Oh GOD is it fun. Beel's still a little stiff as a performer but Asmo gets everyone into it - he covers (and gets everyone to do) the scatting...but absolutely lets Beel do the low notes at the end. Even he makes happy noises when he can get into those low registers and it turns out to be fun for all involved.

Asmo and Belphie: Funnily enough - it's Belphie who pulls this one off. And of all songs? It's Wonderboy by Tenacious D. (Seriously just imagine "How about the power of flight, that do anything for you? and Belphie just doing a straight up "That's levitation, Holmes." It's not Asmo's style but he's got the chops to back Belphie up on this one so it turns out fun.

Karaoke Beelzebub

Beel on his own: Can't be bothered much but bribe him with food and he's got this incredible baritone, and can get down to a bass. He sings what other people want him to so there's a bit of a dichotomy about the fact that people want him to do the Beast Song from "Over the Garden Wall" - it’s not Beel’s style to sing that but god he could do it if you asked. and also Barry White's "Can't Get Enough of your Love"

Beel and MC: Dearly Departed by the Creep Show. It's MC's show and Beel does the backups but there's a lot of onstage chemistry. Everyone feels a ...way afterwards.

Beel and Lucifer: Where the Wild Roses Grow by Nick Cave and Kylie - and yeah - Lucifer does the female part. It was sort of a joke that went in a really wildly sexual direction, but also it is capable of shutting down the whole night. Thankfully it was done at the end of the night.

Beel and Mammon: Mammon's got a bit of a penchant for musicals so he kinda is into doing a lil' bit of Little Shop of Horror's "Feed Me/Git It" Especially because he knows he could explain the concept and well yeah. Beel gets a LITTLE into it. "just pretend I ate your custard" And it's a done deal. Mammon also does a great Seymor. Beel and Leviathan: They're doing Zu Ende from Dracula Musical (Incidentally: if you want to know what my own voice is like - Wao Yoka is very close to me - if Wao was wite chick) - but Levi is doing Wao/Drac's part and Van Helsing's part is Beel's.

Beel and Satan: Poe - Control - Satan lets Beel do this - but it's not melodic enough that he can pull some weight here. Beel backs down if Satan's managing it. But he more or less just lets Satan do the second verse.

Beel and Asmo: Sweet Tooth by Scott Helman - It's Asmo's song really but Beel doesn't over take Asmo and they really pull this off. Beel joins real hard at the end and it gets very good.

Beel and Belphie: Slumber by Bad Religion. This really is a duet. They both sing this together. Beel does the bridge however. Belphie does air guitar occasionally. It’s rather potent - they are twins and they use this distinctly to their advantage.

Karaoke Belphegor

Belphegor isn't much for this whole kareoke thing but can be convinced into it. Hey - his twin's great, why does he have to put in the effort? However - when the situation calls for it - hes got a variety of tricks up his sleeve.

Belphegor on his own: Picks the classics. Just whatever the place has in the book mostly. But paired up then this guy is a little shit. As a singer he's not the strongest but he's not bad either. When he's trying he's quite interesting when he's bored he's just...meh, knows it and does not care. I want Candy? These Boots were Made for Walkin? Yeah those are Belphie's stuff

Belphie and MC: Belphegor's still trying too hard with MC and so they're doing Strange Disease by Prozzak. He thinks it'll help. He's not bad at doing the recieved pronounciation accent either though at that.

Belphie and Lucifer: Belphie ain't letting Lucifer get away with SHIT. Belphie is making him full on do Aqua's Barbie Girl and that's that. It's...ridiculously funny as a matter of fact. Belphie's plan may have backfired a little given that everyone really likes singing along. On the other hand, he DID make Lucifer say "Come on Barbie, let's go party."

Belphie and Mammon: Corey Hart's Sunglasses at Night - with Mammon indeed wearing his sunglasses at night for maximum effect. Mammon's way more into it than Belphie but it's an entertaining performance nonetheless.

Belphie and Leviathan: The ODDEST combo but - Dionysos (F. Olivia Ruiz)' 'Tais Toi Mon Couer' - Levi likes the animation in the video and Belphie can pull off the french and the vibe. it's actually much more effective than Belphie's attempts to do anything with MC (and if you haven't seen the vid and don't speak French there's some vids with subtitles - see above!) Belphie and Satan: (with Mammon) When You're Evil by Voltaire - Dedicated FULLLY to Lucifer. And they all get into it. Mammon's particularly good at this - but while Satan isn't much of a singer he's just willing to keep up. Mammon carries this but it's this lot very much singing directly to Lucifer. It's honestly terrifying but man the Anti-Lucifer Club pulls this one off like champs.

Belphie and Asmo: They do Four Chord Song by Asis of Awesome - it Belphie's brain of 'easy' with Asmo's need to show off. They can do this very well. Asmo does wonderful masterful work but Belphie does the stuff that Asmo can't reach. They just do a medley.

Belphie and Beel: Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeplin - and oh - Belphie will turn off the kareoke machine and bust out his accoustic and put in the effort - So it's Rodrigo Y Gabriela's cover. Beel is all in for it. But it's really Belphie's talent with the guitar. In almost any other story Beel's voice is the thing but here? No it's him.

#obey me #obey me head canons #what else #if tagged everything we'd be in for one wild ride #I have linked to official music and performances

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lunaschild2016 · 5 years ago

Text

Belief - Part 3 (Edit)

Rating: M

Devi is Dauntless. Through blood sweat and tears she made a place for herself three years ago when she left her life in Amity behind. Not once in that three years has Eric Coulter even deigned to look her way. Not until that night. Now she has nothing but his attention. Eric/OC AU [Smut, Language, Romance]

Part 3

I decided that I'm not going to eat the food Eric pushed on me. After he left I felt furious at how presumptuous he had been and that pushed aside any pleasant feelings I had when I opened the bag to peek inside.

I'm angry at my reaction to him.

I'm still furious at Four for letting Rain go.

My head is killing me and I'm completely exhausted.

I'm just pissed and grumpy in general. I walk out of that room still clutching the bag tightly and fully intend to toss it in the trash then start back to work.

As soon as I get to the waiting room I see that most of it cleared out and that Kari is rushing towards me with wide eyes. They're darting between me, the bag, and then the cameras.

I grumble under my breath, already knowing what's coming. "What did he say to you?"

It's not Kari who answers her but Devon, the other aid on staff. "He said that if you didn't do what he said he would hold the two of us responsible. That he would be more than happy to arrange for an extended visit for one or both of us at the fence."

Kari is pale and shaking, confirming that everything Devon said is true. My fury explodes and I start muttering in a combination of English and Spanish. Mainly curse words.

I refuse to give in! I know there is no way he's going to get away with taking away the staff we need here at the clinic. I push past Devon and go to throw the bag in the trash but he stops me by pulling my arm back and scowling at me.

"Fine! If you're so dead set on seeing one of us being sent to the fence, at least I can see what the mighty Eric brought to you. Better yet, I'll just eat it myself and then I can say I was treated to something by the man that never does anything for anyone other than himself."

He goes to actually grab the bag but this makes me snap and I punch him the gut before clasping the bag, the one I was about to toss just seconds ago, close to my chest. "Culo! No one is touching this!"

He smirked through holding his stomach. "Told you." He said looking back at Kari.

"Told who what?" I snapped.

Kari shakes her head and raises her hands while still shooting glances at the camera. "Seriously though, could you just go eat, Devi? Go to the office and we can handle things while you are gone. You know you get all grouchy when you haven't eaten anyway."

I narrow my eyes but went ahead to the office. Kari isn't wrong and I can become a complete bitch when I haven't eaten. Today it is so much worse because I'm also hungover and tired as hell. I slam the office door and fling myself in the chair after tossing the bag on the desk. It doesn't take me long to give in to the temptation of the smells and the urgings of my growling stomach.

I tear into the bag then lunch eagerly.

It isn't just the sandwich, but also a bag of cheese crisps, a cake brownie, and then one of the whole dill pickles that are shipped in from Amity.

It’s all perfect food to fill me up and soak up the alcohol that I'm sure is still running through my system. For that reason, and that reason alone, I decided not to feel guilty about taking my time eating every bit of lunch. There is also paperwork and charts that needed to be completed or filed, so I took this time to get that all done since I was already in the office.

In between bites, I worked happily and with the occasional hum of pleasure.

I hate the fact that my mood started to improve as I went along. When I emerged from the office I felt loads better but wasn't about to comment on it. The first time Devon cast a knowing smirk at me I sent him a glare that shut him up very quickly and sent him hustling to get the areas that needed it cleaned up.

The rest of the day was spent catching up with normal things.

Members or dependents that needed to be seen for one thing or another, but couldn't during the week, they always come in during the weekend for appointments. That makes my morning packed with those visits on top of anyone that might come in that hasn’t been scheduled.

Things calm down eventually, but we still have to push people we didn't get to during the day to be seen tomorrow. Which means another of my days off will be spent in the clinic.

Shauna finally comes in to relieve me for the evening shift but I stay to help clean things up and go over the charts of the unlucky few that have an overnight stay with us ahead of them. She chatters the entire time.

What Tori said about Dauntless and gossip is completely true. The 'head bitch', although she herself would never be considered a bitch, in the gossip food chain is none other than my friend and co-worker. Her information is usually on point and reliable. She can usually call or predict something before it ever becomes official.

Part of that has to be because her fiancé and his brother are both working in Intel or work closely with leadership. Tonight she's going on about what had happened in the faction so far and the big story going on is about the brawl.

Turns out the former champ at Big Shots, Razor, did sort of throw the fight. He was wasted out of his mind and nowhere near the condition to handle the level of fights he was scheduled to face that night. The brawl happened when the refs, manager, and judges all made the decision that the wins were void and the fights would be scheduled for another night.

The people that won big were livid. The ones that were all for the rematches got pissed when the other group started calling them, and the champ, out for cheating in some way. Honestly, it sounded like even if he won there would have been an explosion of some kind. We’re all fighters after all, and it doesn't take much for us to want to get in on the action too.

In the middle of cleaning a room together, Shauna stops and looks over at me with a frown.

"Hey, you really should take off and get some sleep. You had a long night from what I heard and it isn't going to get better for you tomorrow."

I snapped up from making the bed and whip around to look at her. "What the hell does that mean?"

I already have dread running through me, and when she shrugs with a knowing smile, I know. I just know.

"Something I heard but I'm not supposed to talk about. I can tell you that tomorrow will probably be a long day for you."

If Tori and Shauna could be put side by side, at least the Tori from this morning and Shauna right now, their tones and smiles would be a complete imitation of the other.

"You can't say? Why?" I pop my hip out and my hand goes on it.

I might be tiny but I can be fierce if you piss me off enough and I'm right there at the edge with the only thing in my line of sight being Shauna. Friend or not it's tempting. I guess she recognizes this look enough and the smile drops.

"Look, I want to tell. I had every intention of telling you, actually. That's why he ordered me not too when he saw I was listening in to his conversation with Uri at lunch."

I don't even need to ask who gave that order. Her expression matches the one Kari had from earlier.

"Hijo de puta! Esto es un montón de mierda de caballo. Durante tres años, apenas sabe que existo, ¿pero ahora decide que merezco otra mirada?" I fume and stomp my foot in a huff.

I jerk around and finish making the bed.

"Sorry," Shauna says softly from the other side of the room. I wave that off and shake my head.

"Not your fault," I mutter with a sigh.

When the bed is made we make our way out of the room and she looks to me as I am gathering my things from the office.

"I don't think he didn't see you all those years, Devi." She calls to me softly as I was walking out of the room. "I don't know for sure, but sometimes I thought I caught him watching you. It's hard to know with Eric though."

I sigh wearily and smile back at her. "I'll see you in the morning. Thanks for the heads up."

I head home and grab something to eat after I take a much-needed bath. My roommate and friend Sadie apologized profusely for the night before.

It turns out they were there with me all along but when they tried to approach Eric when he was taking me from the pit, he turned his famous glare on them, warning them away. They hadn't dared to try and stop him after that. I would have told her off for not even trying, but it isn't worth my energy. I know all that would have done is get them on Eric's shit list.

By the time I finally crawl into bed I've gone into denial mode and coming up with anything that could be causing Eric's behavior besides what my body is telling me it might be.

This was all just an amusing distraction for him. Sadie told me what happened and how Four also tried to get me away from Eric. This is his way to get back at Four after he tried to keep me from Eric in the Pit. Eric knew it would be a button he could push on Four and had done that.

Come tomorrow he'll be bored of it and move on to some other much more willing victim.

He doesn't really have any interest in me and I refuse to let myself feel any kind of hurt about that realization.

Tomorrow I'll wake up, go to work, and then go out with my girls.

Maybe I'll even take Ash up on that offer to hang out. I could use a pick me up.

I go to sleep feeling more confident and with a smile on my face.

But there is the faint thought that if there is real interest, Eric is about to get another wound to that overinflated ego of his.

**********************************************************

The morning dawns once again, and way too soon for my liking.

Over my morning coffee, I send off a few texts to make plans for that night.

Sadie, Vera, and AJ are all willing. Even Lynn said she could be counted in for a few drinks and dancing. I also send one to Ash telling him where I would be for the night. If he wants to stop by, have a few drinks and maybe dance he's more than welcome too.

Ash is someone I see from time to time.

He works patrols and has a rotating schedule where he's out of the compound for two weeks before coming back for two.

We've never tried for anything serious between us for various reasons. Some of it’s because of our schedules and dedication to our jobs, but that isn't all of it. We are honestly more just friends with the occasional side of benefits. We don't always hook up when we hang out though.

It's just nice to have someone to cuddle or dance with, without them being a total creep. Just someone to have fun with, be myself, and not worry about either of us wanting more than we are capable of providing.

I don't expect him to be up to reply right away, neither of us expects the other to drop whatever we might be doing just because we call, but he does and he happily agrees to meet me for the night. It will be his last night to out before he goes back on rotation.

There is a pep in my step as I head out to work. I even stop by the combination deli and bakery to pick up some treats for me and the others.

I have to be careful how often I do this, but I've never been one to try and deny myself just because of what someone else thinks will be bad for me.

It's nice to be able to get things like muffins, cake or other baked goods again now that I don't have to worry about them being dosed with peace serum. It took a while for me to be able to eat anything even remotely close to bread once I got to Dauntless. They don't talk about what happens to the people that have been living on that mierda.

On the day of my choosing ceremony, my family made a big breakfast for me. I didn't give it a thought when I was eating my fill of sweetbreads right along with the fruit they had that morning. They were both normal things for our meals, and we had sweetbreads at least a few times a week. Mi Abuela loved to bake and garden. Those had been her pleasures, so there was always something for us to eat from that.

I've always wondered if they knew what would happen to me that first week of being in Dauntless.

I wondered if my family had known, as I loaded up on the bread, that once I left there I would suffer. Did they know I would go through something called withdrawal? Did they think it was only right that I go through hell for betraying them and leaving?

I don't want to believe that they would do that to someone they loved, but I have my doubts about their love because of that suffering. Someone had to know that living for so long on a drug-induced set of false feelings would throw me off so badly. Someone had to know that I would struggle with trying to deal with all of the feelings that I had never been allowed to deal with on my own before.

Initiation would have been hell on anyone but a girl with my physicality coming from Amity made it a certainty. Adding that I had the emotional stability of a pubescent teen and it just amplified that.

It took me almost an entire year before I would even touch something with bread in it at all.

Have I mentioned how much I love bread and sweets?

That by itself was enough to make me completely moody, especially when all around me the Dauntless cake was taunting me. I may have punched someone once when they seemed to take pleasure in teasing me while they slowly ate their cake across from me at dinner once.

Uriah Pedrad still won't eat cake if I'm around.

Keri and Devon fall on the donuts and muffins once I make it into the office. This is where we gather every morning to be debriefed by the night staff on everything that happened during the night and the status of anyone staying.

It's another busy day for me. All the appointments or people that got turned away and told to come back yesterday are expected today. Some of the ones leftover from the mess the brawl created came back during the night, so thankfully most of that mess was taken care of by the night crew. There are a few walk-ins with cuts or broken bones but none of the crap that I was seeing yesterday morning.

Overall, while work does keep me busy, I'm still holding onto the good mood I woke up in. It's looking like I'm going to get out earlier than I expected, and since this is supposed to be my day off anyway, it just improves my mood even more.

So much so that I almost forget about yesterday completely.

I mean, I've only daydreamed about that kiss and Eric a few times today, so I think I'm doing pretty good.

The last appointment of my day is a young dependent. It's just a simple one, being seen for a persistent cough and congestion that turned out to be an ear infection.

We don’t have a doctor on staff from Erudite and while I am qualified for many things, there are some of them that are just beyond me.

Instead of sending a doctor over, we have a computer station that has a scanner along with other various places where we can put in any blood draws or other things of that nature. That allows us to send and receive information to staff over at the Erudite hospital. It’s fairly old and can take an absurdly long time, so it becomes fairly useless in true emergencies. For simple cases like this, it works fairly well. I send over a few cultures, a blood draw and a scan of her chest for the doctor to look at and diagnose.

With a shot of antibiotics and a script for a syrup to help with a cough, I send the little girl and her mom on their way. As I'm doing a clean up of the room they were in Kari comes rushing in with a harried look in her eyes.

"He's here." She says simply and with no need to elaborate who ‘he’ is.

I huff and close my eyes tightly, my good mood going right out of the window. "Any idea what he wants?"

I open my eyes and roll them when I see her horrified expression. Like it was horrifying to her that I even suggested she try and ask him what he wanted. So I shove past her and make my way out into the waiting room, but Eric isn't there.

Devon points the office and then the nerves hit. I was hoping he would stay out in the open here in the waiting room where I wouldn't have to be alone with him. Which is probably exactly why he went into that office.

I groan quietly at this realization before determination sets in and I grit my teeth and give myself a short internal pep talk. I push my shoulders back and walk into the office with as much of a calm and uncaring demeanor as I'm capable of pulling off right now.

Eric is sitting behind the desk and has a file in his hands with a few others laid out in front of him and with his feet propped up on the desk. He looks way too at home in the place I consider my domain, for my liking. That calm demeanor snapped straight out of the window. I slam the door and put a hand on my hip as I glare at him.

"Did something happen to the staples? One pop out of place or something?"

He looks up from the file in his hand and smirks. "Nope. They're still intact." He tilts his head and that infuriating smirk gets wider. "Sorry if that ruins your hope for getting my shirt off again. Although, if you ask nicely enough…."

I sputter and glare at the gall of the man. "Hate to burst your ego but that was the furthest thing from my mind."

Mentira! As soon as he said it, that’s all I wanted.

I walk closer and shove the feet he has propped up on the desk off then go to snatch the file in his hand away. He jerks it back and makes a tutting noise.

"Leaders have full and complete access to any and all data or files." The smirk is gone though his words are full of it.

"What do you want, Eric?" I snap at him.

"I looked at your personnel file," He states simply, putting the file down he was reading and I get a good look at it for the first time.

This one isn't my personnel file but the one I have full of my proposals and requests for the clinic from over the last few years. I frown at that and his statement trying to connect the two and my tangle of thoughts.

"Okay?"

"You haven't taken part of the yearly physical training and assessments yet. In fact, you didn't for last year either."

I sigh tiredly and rub the back of my neck. "Eric, I don't know if you’ve noticed or if you even care, but the clinic is running on a tight budget and limited staff. Most of the people qualified to do the things beyond basic aid are Erudite, and they are only here for eight hours of the day. Those hours are early ones that most of the people in Dauntless aren't even awake for half the time, not to mention they aren’t here on weekends. Patrol medics have to come from somewhere and the weekends that takes them from the small staff we have here. I guess it isn't surprising you don't know this considering any and all requests I’ve made are either rejected out of hand or just ignored. Perdóname if I don't make it into maldito training when I'm too busy stitching up or setting bones for everyone else who is able to."

Eric starts tapping his fingers on the table, his jaw clenched and looking around. He stands and grabs the file he was looking at before he turns his cold eyes on me. "Follow me."

I've probably pushed my luck just once too often with him while I was unloading my anger and frustration. In fact, I'm sure of it as he stomps to the door and rips it open, then stalks out. I can hear him barking something to Devon and Kari but not what. I scramble to grab my bag, just in case I need it, and follow after him. Both of the staff are looking at me with worried eyes but they make no moves to say anything or help.

They couldn't help even if they tried to be honest.

I follow after Eric but he stops at some point and waits for me to catch up to him. "You might be short on staff but I can't excuse missing the training. I especially can't excuse missing the assessment. Normally, you would need to do it with one of the qualified staff, and during their hours, but that isn't going to work, obviously." He pauses in speaking even as we are walking and glances over at me. "So, I’m going to take that on myself. We'll be starting with weapons at the firing range today. You won't need to change into workout clothes for now, but I will expect you to have some on you for when we next train."

My fists are clenched at my side as I walk beside him. There is a tiny part of me that's thrilled with this development while the majority of me is pissed at being dictated to like this.

I bite my lip and decide to pick my battles.

Eric’s right and the reason for the lapse in training doesn't really matter. Here in Dauntless, it is expected and the standard unspoken rule is you always make time for training.

We don't go right to the gun range.

First, we stop by his office where he deposits the file on top of his desk. I immediately know I'm never going to see it again and am thankful I have backups of all the information on my laptop.

His desk seems to be one big pile of paperwork. Organized piles, but still.

The desk has a towering stack of files in a tray with a label indicating they still need to be looked over and a matching stack of ones that have the label indicating they are complete. It would take counting each one to know which one has more as they seem to be at the same level.

I don't know what he intends to do with my file but I have a feeling it's just going to get shoved in with one of those enormous stacks and get lost.

I do feel a tinge of pity that he seems to be swamped with work.

I guess I never really wondered what it's like for any of the leaders. Tori never complains, and that isn't something Four is likely to do either. I just always looked at the power they hold along with the perks that come with holding that position, and never considered what needed to be done behind the scenes. Logically I know there is work, but I never considered they would be as buried under as it appears he is.

"Is that always like that?" I ask as I wave towards his desk. Eric unlocks a cabinet at the back of the room and starts pulling out things.

He glances at me and then to where I'm indicating and shrugs. There is a tiredness that etched itself onto his face for just a second before it's gone just as quickly to be replaced by a slight scowl. "It's usually worse."

I frown as my eyes wander over the file names, reading them quickly and seeing that some of the labels are things I would think would be taken care of someone else. "So why don't you have an assistant or something to help?"

"You aren't the only one that has to deal with budget cuts and short staff, Devi. We have the same issues up here. Everyone thinks it will be such a fucking cakewalk to work in leadership or as one of the assistants. Then they get a face full of reality and we find out they aren't cut out for it and have to find someone else or do without."

I should feel ashamed of my words to him earlier but leadership could at least explain that to their departments. Especially ones that are so vital to the faction.

"I didn't know," I start out saying then narrow my eyes at him when he snorts and is probably about to make some smart ass comment. "That could be solved by someone just telling us all this." I wave again but this time between the desk and him. Making it clear I'm meaning him specifically.

It turns out he had been pulling out his handguns. Now he started to slip those into holsters he had on his hip and thigh after checking them. "Would it have made any difference if we had? Knowing that we have little in the way of budget to work with and even less staff?"

I put my hand on my hip and frown while looking down slightly. "Of course. That would have been much better than thinking I've been ignored for the last three years."

I glance back up briefly but quickly look away and blush when I realize how hurt my tone sounded and I caught the flicker of something in his eyes as he caught it too. Eric came closer until he is standing right in front of me. He reaches out a hand and uses his fingers to gently grip my chin and raise my head until I'm looking him in the eyes once again.

"Devi, you were never ignored." He says softly while he runs his thumb over my lips lightly then drops his hand along the soft expression in his eyes and sighs. "Circumstances have had my hands tied until recently. We're working to make up for everything the previous leaders did to destroy the faction."

I nod when his eyebrow raises, seeming to ask if I understand, but can't find the words to reply. I don't trust my voice to speak because of the fluttering in my stomach. It seems good enough for him and he moves to the door, holding it open for me to pass through first before closing it behind him. He sets a brisk pace but not one I'm unable to keep up with. Soon we are entering into the gun range.

The people in the gun range at the moment look at us curiously as we pass. A few of the guys I know from their frequent visits to the clinic, and they start to wave or smile at me. They stop immediately and turn away quickly after a glare from Eric.

He sets us up about as far away from everyone else as he can get while still being in the same room.

It's clear any and all focus is going to be put on me and he isn’t going to tolerate any kind of distractions or interference. I found out it’s entirely possible to be in a large room full of other people and activity and it still feels like I am completely alone with Eric.

This just ramped up my nerves that were already frazzled.

It's also obvious that my lack of training has clearly affected my aim. Something he's all too quick to point out, rather gleefully, and then insisted on physically correcting me while informing that my performance is so abysmal that he might as well start me out like he would a beginner.

That's about how the next two hours progress, with him acting as if I've never even held a gun. He has been pressed against me, or at least uncomfortably close, almost the entire time. Shoving me this way or that. Pressing his legs between mine to correct my stance or wrapping his entire top half around mine while he stands behind me.

He also won’t shut up!

He keeps assaulting me with question after question. When I said something about it, snapping out that I didn’t realize he had so many words in his vocabulary, he just grinned wickedly and said he’s just testing my ability to maintain my skill through distractions and then continued on.

He spent the next hour or so grilling me about anything from my life in Amity before I transferred all the way up to my life now, my friends and things I do with them.

"You said you were considered the perfect Amity. Why did you transfer if you were happy there?"

"You never wondered how you were able to kill chickens? I mean come on that had to be a red flag right there."

"How often did you find a wild horse beyond the fence?"

"Did you really spend that long out of the fence on those trips?"

"How did you get into healing if you worked with animals?"

"How can working with animals and their recovery be compared to a person?"

"Explain all this massage and herb therapy crap. I don't get why it is such a big deal or help."

“Are you actually friends with your roommate, because I remember her being in our initiation and never saw her talking to you?”

“How did Lynn end up in your circle of friends?”

“So, you aren’t all that close to Number Boy?”

“You dance? Where do you go?”

On and on the interrogation went, and all while he's physically distracting me as well.

Between the verbal and physical invasions going on, I quickly become exhausted. By the end of the two hours, I reach the end of my patience.

It's when the questions start to get slightly more personal and trying to pry into past relationships, that it snaps completely. I start responding in sarcasm and Spanish.

Eric just looks amused while his hands start to do things along my back and hips and I realize that I've only been speaking in Spanish for the last thirty minutes of that time and Eric understood every word, even if he only responded back in English.

"Alright, we're done here for the night." He says, stepping back abruptly after having just been brushing his fingers down my neck while his breath tickled my ear. "Let's go to the mess hall and get dinner."

I watch as he holsters the gun and let out a frustrated puff of air while calling him every kind of bastard I can in my mind. I can't decide if I want to turn around and slap him or push him against the wall and relieve all this frustration he’s built up in me.

The first one I dismiss, because even I am not loca enough to slap a leader, and definitely not this one.

There is still the second option.

I snort quietly and shake my head, dismissing that. I’ll just need to find another way to relieve this frustration because there is no way it’s happening with Eric.

My plans for the night flash in my mind suddenly. Hair from my ponytail came loose at some point during Eric’s pawing at me and has fallen in my face. I shove some of the hair back from my face and start to grin then look at Eric as he finally faces towards me after cleaning up our area.

I flash a smug smile at him as I shake my head then grab my bag up. “Thanks, but no thanks. I have plans for the night already.”

“Plans?” Up until my statement, he had been wearing his own smug smirk after stepping back and seeing how flushed I was. That smirk drops as soon as I shoot him down. His eyes move over me cooly but then he just gives me a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Cancel them then.”

His tone is so fucking flippant and as if he’s presuming this would be what is obviously going to happen.

I let out a scoffed laugh. “No. I don’t think so. I’m meeting up with my girls for drinks and dancing before Lynn goes back out on patrol rotation.”

“Your girls, huh?” He drawls slowly while narrowing his eyes and looking me over slowly before his eyes meet mine.

We spend the next few seconds in a stare-off and I think he might be waiting for me to back down and just go along with him.

Clearly, he has learned nothing about me.

Then he surprises me by shrugging casually and gives a small nod of acceptance. “Okay. Just remember what I said though and be prepared for me at any time, little one.”

I ignore the flush of warmth at his nickname for me and narrow my eyes.

He’s up to something. I know it. But whatever is going behind those blue eyes of his is a mystery. I just know there is an intensity to him that makes me want to lick my lips and return the action of looking him up and down like he just did me. It’s so strong that it makes me whip around instead and sashay my ass out of there as fast as possible.

“Will do, Sir!” I toss over my shoulder to him with a grin.

His chuckle after seemed to follow me for the entire walk to my apartment. It sounded like more than just a laugh or simple amusement.

It was dark, rich, and raspy. Like it held a promise of something to come.

Something that shouldn’t have my nipples going hard or my knees going weak. But it did and I think I knew then that I am well and truly fucked.

*****************************************************

“Damn! You are going all out tonight.” Lynn says as she looks me over and walks further into my bathroom where I’m still getting ready.

I’m already dressed, other than my chosen heels for the night, but I’m putting the final touches on my make up. I smile at her through the mirror and lean over the bathroom sink and counter to get closer to the mirror so I can swipe the mascara on in a way that it won’t clump the eyelashes together.

“Damn straight,” I finally reply to her then quickly finish with the other eye.

I put my makeup down and step back to take a look at myself in the floor-length mirror on the other wall, turning this way and that to get a better look.

I wouldn’t say that I don’t dress up when we go out, but I don’t usually go all out like I am tonight. Most of the time I’m wearing something a bit more relaxed. Like the other night, my dress was just a simple black dress; long-sleeved and with a slightly rounded neckline that went to just above my knees and had a tiny slit on the right side. It was just the right amount of casual and sexy. Something I threw on right after work and used my new shoes to add spice and color to the mix. I didn’t even do anything with my makeup or hair really other than fixing my ponytail and adding a bit of lip gloss.

Something about tonight seemed to call for a bit more….well, everything. Something a bit more...Dauntless...and daring.

I left my hair down tonight and let it fall into my natural waves, but added a little product to smooth the hair and make it slightly shiny. My lipstick is a wicked red color and I lined my eyes so that the chocolate brown looks a bit more sultry. I have the same shade of red on my finger and toenails that I used for my lipstick.

My shorts are a little shorter and my cleavage a little more revealed than I would normally display.

The outfit is almost all black in color. The top is a deep v-neck silk wrap top that I have to tape down to make sure the sides stay in place and I don’t end up flashing everyone since I’m not wearing a bra underneath. I have that tucked into the black silk shorts that provide me full coverage of the assets...my ass...but mold to it nicely.

To add some color, and to break up the black and highlight my waist, I added a wide belt made of silver metal that is thick enough to draw attention to the waist and what I consider my best feature, my butt.

The real feature of the outfit is my shoes.

As always they are high heels, four inches, but the style is a roman sandal with leather straps that go all the way up to the knees. I sit on the toilet to slip those on and secure all the little black leather straps.

Lynn has her arms crossed over her chest and is shaking her head at me with a knowing grin.

She knows this look. This is my going out to get mine, look. When I’m feeling sassy and sexy and want to let loose.

“Well, let's go then. Did you eat something?” She frowns at me worriedly while I pop my lipstick into my clutch purse that already has my keys, phone, and some protection (in case I get lucky) in it.

“Yes, mami. I had a grilled cheese when I got home.”

Lynn rolls her eyes but chuckles and shrugs. “Well, that’s better than nothing. We can just order some bar food when we get there.”

I sigh but admit that’s a good idea. I don’t do well with drinks if I haven’t had anything too substantial to eat.

Lynn has a reputation for being hard, and she definitely can be, but we both have the habit of being the ‘mothers’ for our group of friends. We’re the ones that usually make sure everyone doesn’t completely overdo it and that they make it home at the end of the night.

So, I would have normally heard something from her about what happened to me, but I guess since she knows I’m now dealing with Eric, she also figures I have enough torture ahead of me.

If she only knew.

Sadie was waiting for the two of us in our living room while our other two friends that said they could make it, Vera and AJ, already headed over to the club to get us a place.

Vera is currently dating the guy that manages the bar we are going to tonight and managed to sweet-talk him into setting aside one of the balcony areas that overlook the dance floor. Those spaces are usually reserved for officers and leaders in the extremely popular club, so it was a surprise when she messaged us earlier saying she managed to get us a spot.

This will be a treat, because normally we grab whatever spots are available on the lower level and pray there is enough seating. There never is.

We head out and talk as we go, catching up on what’s going on with each other along the way. Once we reach the club we spot the section Vera told us we would be at and can just faintly make her out waving at us from there.

I stick close to Lynn who seems to have this ability to make the crowds just kind of move for her with little to no effort, and in no time we’re across the already full dance floor and at the stairs. We quickly pass the guy that serves as a guard that makes sure no one gets up there that isn’t supposed to.

The upper level is amazing and has a very polished look to it while the lower levels seem to go with a raw kind of approach to decorations. There are already other groups gathered in their own little lounges that we pass on the way to where our group is set up at the far end.

I slide onto the seat of one of the sleek black couches and take in our set up. There is a huge lighted table in the shape of a cube that alternates colors sitting in the center of the L shaped sectional and a collection of four armchairs in dark red of the same material of the couch. On the table itself there are a few buckets filled with ice. Two of them have a bottle of a wine of some kind and the other two have juice. I reach forward and deposit my clutch onto the table and reach for a bottle, examining it and raising an eyebrow when I see that it’s a sparkling white wine from Amity. One that is very popular and is usually reserved for trade with any one of the factions that want it. Erudite is very fond of it and is known to be the one to buy it up after each production year.

I raise my eyebrow at the bottle while looking over at my friend in question. Vera just giggles then shrugs. The pulsing music of the club can still clearly be heard but it’s not so overwhelming up here that we can’t hear each other talking.

“Blaine said they’re for us, so I guess he just wants to make sure we have a good time. It’s one of your favorites right? That wine from Amity?”

I shrug with a smile and start to crack it open but Lynn glares at me and slaps my hand away. “Food for all of us first before we start downing this.” She grabs it from me and shoves it back into the ice bucket.

“Oh good idea!” Sadie coos and then eyes the bar, more specifically the bartender, on this level. “I’ll just go order us some snacks.” She is already up and waggling her fingers at us before I can even tell her what I want.

“Ash is here.” AJ says as she comes up from dancing on the floor with some guy she’s decided is going to be her date for the night. “I told him we’re up here.”

“Thanks.” I reply with a smile and look around.

The club is amazing and has always been my favorite here. That might be because it was the first club I ever went to in Dauntless.

I always loved dancing back in Amity.

They would have days filled with music out on the open fields. Nights where we all just got together and danced with the stars and moon shining down on us.

I would drink and dance my ass off. Then I would go off somewhere with Vicente. We would spend hours more just touching each other or later on as I got older, making love. It’s hard to not be bitter after I realized that all of that was drug-induced.

At the dances where all the young but of age were encouraged to attend, they served drinks laced with shit that I can’t even stomach the name of now. It wasn’t bad enough to be on peace serum all the time but they also gave us other things. I didn’t know that back then. It wasn’t until I got to Dauntless that I was informed about what I was exposed to and what it did to me.

It tainted all of those memories for me. Even the relationship with the man I had hoped to marry. It made me question how much of it was real and how much was the drugs.

After getting through initiation and becoming a member, I resisted going out. Still bitter and upset about so much of my previous life. Doing anything that was remotely similar to my old life was out of the question. I worked and went back to the apartment I shared with Sadie, refusing attempts to be friends or hang out with anyone.

I knew it was fear holding me back. Facing your fears in sims doesn’t make them go away, it just makes you super aware of them.

So I knew that I was afraid to get close to anyone but I was also afraid that I wasn’t able to get close to anyone or love them. Afraid that everything from my life in Amity, who I was, had been fake. Tori brought me out of that and said I wouldn’t know if I didn’t try. Was I Dauntless enough to do that? Of course, I couldn’t back down from her challenge.

So, one night I got dressed up and found myself standing in Club Onyx for the first time.

It’s a literal cave. Stalagmites and stalactites can be found everywhere. The ceiling is high enough up that at places it disappears into the dark. The walls are mostly the natural stone of the cave, but in other places it’s smoothed out to make way for different decorations, furniture or built-in rooms, like the restrooms.

I’m told there are little nooks and crannies all over the place that people like to go and explore. Tori once said there is some type of water in one of them, a grotto she called it. I haven’t explored the big cavern yet so I haven’t discovered if that’s true or not for myself.

The club is a cross between the primal aspect that defines Dauntless and the tech and polished aesthetics from Erudite. That means it has lights, sounds systems, and other little luxuries that make it easier to let go and enjoy.

I enjoyed myself so much that first time. I found my rhythm again and danced long into the morning hours with Tori. Since then, I love to come back here when I can.

Ash finds us just as Sadie comes back with a smirk and a drink. She informs us the food will be here shortly. I pour myself out a glass but at a look from Lynn, I also add some of the juice that was in another bucket being chilled.

I sip my drink and laugh along with the others as we talk over the music. The food is delivered by the bartender, who then joins Sadie. Now we all have partners to dance with. Even Lynn called in one of her girlfriends to be with her tonight.

I can never go right into dancing. I’m not sure why this is, but I always have to have at least a drink before I feel relaxed enough to let go. Tonight it seems to take more for me to be loose enough, and I draw it out by eating and talking with Ash or the others when they make their way back to us.

If he’s picking up on how I’m even more nervous than usual he doesn’t say. We just talk and catch up, comfortable enough with that and each other, that it isn’t awkward at all. Even when he brings up Eric.

“So I hear Eric is breathing down your neck.” Ash says with concern.

I almost choke on the mouthful of wine I had but managed to gulp it down and breathe again.

“Where did you hear that?”

“I had to go to the administration offices to get some paperwork settled for a new patrolman being assigned to my unit and heard some chatter about Eric being after you or something like that.”

Oh, he’s after me alright.

I wave my hand casually and dismiss that thought as well as Ash’s worry.

“I missed the last few assessments and he’s having to handle it. No big deal.” I down the last bit of my drink and plop the glass on the table then reach for his hand. “Let’s dance,” I say even as I start to stand, wobbling only a little, and tug him up with me.

He doesn’t protest and soon we’ve made our way to the dance floor. I enjoy myself, I do, but something about Ash’s hands feel off. I can’t help this uneasy feeling that surges up every once in a while.

Normally, I can lose myself in the music and have no qualms about Ash being close or touching me. Ash even notices and asks me if I’m feeling okay. I just tell him I’m fine but that I need another drink. So we go back up to the lounge and he gets a few drinks from the bar for us. Once I have that downed, I drag him back onto the dance floor.

It seems to work and I dance until my feet can’t stand it anymore. He almost has to carry me back up to the balcony and the couch, where I plop down laughing and into his waiting arms.

I’m drunk and headed to well past drunk, but I really don’t care at this point.

“Wanna get out of here?” Ash asks as he leans in close to my ear brushing some of the hair away from it with his fingertips.

I giggle a little and nod. “Yeah, I just wanna go freshen up first.”

“Okay.” Ash agrees and helps to push me up from my seat, chuckling a little as I groan when my feet throb a little.

He makes a comment about the dangers of wearing such high heels that I ignore after a playful glare over my shoulder at him.

“Be right back,” I say and then weave my way to the bathroom.

The one on the balcony is occupied with a few girls waiting outside for it. I decide to not wait and go down to one of the ones on the main floor that I found a while back that is usually empty. It has two stalls with a well-lit vanity area that I would think would make this a popular bathroom, but it’s well away from the dance area so maybe that’s why it isn’t packed like the others always are.

I take care of nature’s call first. Grateful that the toilets in places like this are nothing like the ones in the dorm or training room from when I first came to Dauntless. You need a shot just to prevent diseases from being near those.

I finish quickly and wash my hands then can’t resist using the vanity to check my lipstick and makeup. I’m so absorbed in finding my lipstick and reapplying it that I don’t notice the door opening, but I definitely hear it closing. And I definitely hear the lock being flipped.

The first, brief, thought I have is that someone’s decided to use this as a place to be intimate so for a few seconds I don’t get worried. It isn’t until the feeling I’ve had, but denied, all night surges through me with a vengeance. The one that felt like I was being watched. The one that had the hair on the back of my neck standing at attention and my senses buzzing. Only this is much worse and it finally gets my attention enough to turn to look out of the little vanity area that is in its own little nook.

Eric is standing there, leaning against one side of the archway, and the expression on his face makes my legs tremble slightly while I swallow heavily.

Eric Coulter isn’t an expressionless, emotionless robot but at times it certainly seems that way. But there are times when that mask breaks. I’ve always thought that the reputation he earned, even as far back as our initiation, didn’t come from the cold, calculating and the ruthless man he can be, but from these moments when whatever he is feeling is unrestrained and intense, overwhelming even.

The expression he is wearing now isn’t far off from one that I’ve seen before when he lost it on someone but I haven’t seen that since our initiation. His forehead is screwed up in wrinkles while his jaw is gritted and his lips turned into a scowl. He’s breathing hard, chest heaving, and his vein in his neck is pulsing as his fists clench and his muscles bunch up. That too is something I’ve seen before when he unleashed his body and showed just how lethal it can be.

I’ve seen all this before. I’ve just never been the one it’s all directed at.

“Just drinks with the girls, right?” He advances on me, all sinuous menace and the words are a hiss.

Despite the feeling that I just want to melt into the floor, I don’t let myself. He’s a beast. I’ve tamed larger and more powerful than him. I raise my chin and stand my ground.

“What business it of yours what I do with my free time? Yes, I’m having drinks with my girls and having fun. I never said there wouldn’t be others involved.”

Standing my ground means that I also didn’t move and he was on me in seconds. My butt hits the counter of the vanity as he brackets me in with his hands gripping it on the sides of my hips. He leans in so close that I can smell the aftershave he must have used before he got dressed for the night.

Dios ayúdame is the man dressed.

He’s wearing a black skin-tight, short-sleeved shirt with a v neck that clings to his skin so much that I can make out the muscles of his abdomen underneath it. It tapers in so that his waist is clearly defined by the belt showing since it’s tucked into black jeans that might as well be painted on him. They look to be barely containing the things he calls legs.

All of that is definitely drool-worthy but it’s not what has my mouth salivating and going dry at the same time. It’s his arms and those fucking veins that are pulsing. It’s the bunching of the muscles of his forearms up into his biceps. It’s the sound of his hands rubbing against the stone of the countertops as he grips them tighter.

It all made me want to lick my way up his arm, starting from his tattoos, until I reach his neck and then down the other until I reach….well….

If at all possible, his breathing goes even more ragged and his chest rumbles in a growl. “I’m not happy, at all, little Devi. You’re fucking drunk again.” He hisses and moves even closer making me gasp and flush. “And you let him touch you.

His powerful thigh shoves its way between mine, opening my legs. Much like he did at the firing range but this time he’s facing me and it brushes up against my bare thighs, pressing into the silk shorts I’m wearing.

I let out a moan and reach out to grab his shirt, pulling him even closer. He finally lets go of the counter and uses one of his large, rough hands to grip the back of my neck after moving until the curtain of my hair.

“What am I going to do with you, Devi?” He growls out the question.

And it is a question.

Said in a tone that lets me know he’s at a loss for what to do, maybe even at the end of whatever control he is trying to keep right now. That and the drinks make me much braver than I would ever normally feel. It has me feeling smug even, knowing that I’m the one doing this to him. That I have the unshakable mountain of arrogance and confidence feeling unsettled, unsure.

“Take me home with you, Eric,” I demand forcefully.

As the words come out I feel a brief moment of astonishment. But yes. This is what I want. I wanted it all day when I’ve relived the kiss. I wanted it last night when I touched myself thinking of him and what could have happened in that exam room. I wanted him even more as he touched and teased me at the gun range.

Dammit, I want him and I will get what I want!

The grip on the back of my neck tightens even more and the rumble in his chest deepens before he shoves away from me. He steps back, his eyes a little wild, and runs a hand through his hair.

I bite my lip and start to step forward, to press the advantage I feel I have but stop as soon as I see the change in him. He was looking down for a second, just one second, but that was all it took.

The wild out of control Eric is gone. He is back to the cold and calculating one. Wearing a wide smirk and his head raises.

“Okay.” His tone is a strange combination that I can’t even describe. All I know is it sends both anticipation and worry through me.

Then he steps forward again and that heat I felt just yesterday envelops me making me feel nothing but raw hunger and need. He grabs my wrist and starts to lead me out. This time he barely takes into account my height as he sets the pace. It takes us no time to make it from the almost empty area the bathroom was into the overcrowded dance floor and bar set up.

Some rational thinking kicks in and I realize I need to let someone know what’s going on.

“I have to tell my friends…”

“They’ll figure it out.” He interrupts me with a smirk and looks over his shoulder a little.

I crane my neck and look to see that a few of my friends are on the dance floor and looking at us with wide eyes. Ash is one of them.

I send him an apologetic smile and then gasp when Eric jerks me back around. This time he pulls me completely against his side and wraps his arm around my waist. He all but picks me up and carries me the rest of the way out of Club Onyx.

I debate telling him I changed my mind but the drunken loss of inhibitions doesn’t allow me. My drunkenness is mortifyingly confirmed when I almost twist my ankle twice and finally my legs almost buckle while trying to keep up the pace he set.

Eric stops me from falling with a curse and whips me up into his arms, bridal style, without even really breaking stride. A strong moment of deja vu stops me from protesting as a faint and hazy memory emerges.

The memory a night when Eric caught me in his arms and held me close, refusing to let me down. Pleasure and warmth from the memory add the desire.

“You could have taken me home that night. I wouldn’t have minded then. Why didn't you?” I ask as we walk and he’s keeping his eyes on the dark and winding path out of the part where the Club is housed.

“I told you before. You were drunk and I don’t take advantage of drunk girls, no matter how fucking tempting they are.” At this last part, he turns his head towards me. I see his blue blazing with the same hunger I’m feeling.

I can’t speak for what I think is only for a few seconds. It turns out to be much longer because he had long ago looked away and now we’re in front of a door. He glances at me with a frown as he lowers me to my feet. As soon as they touch solid ground he pulls me tight to his side again. Once he has me tucked in like he wants me, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out keys. He almost kicks the door in before he ushers me through and I hear it slam behind as he does kick it closed.

He moves us so fast I barely notice anything about his apartment other than it is definitely an apartment. He rushes me through the living area and into a dark bedroom. He flicks on a light switch and finally releases his hold on me.

“Wait here.” He demands and then disappears back out of it. He’s back again before I have time to get my bearings or even move, holding something black in his hands. He moves past me into another dark room that is revealed to be a bathroom when he flicks on that light.

I frown and take a step when I hear what must be the faucet running and cabinets being opened and slammed shut. He comes back out with a scowl on his face.

“There are pills on the counter. Take those and drink the water. Get a shower and I left a shirt for you to put on to sleep in.”

My jaw drops a little and I shake my head in confusion. “What?”

He advances again and takes my clutch from me. He roots around in it, takes my keys and the phone, then pockets them both before tossing the whole thing to the side on a chair in the room.

He then jerks me against his body and crashes his mouth against mine. Our teeth gnash against each other as we both let loose the hunger we’re feeling. By the time he releases me from the kiss I’m panting and spinning.

Not all of it from the kiss either.

He steadies me and scowls as he holds me close. “It won’t be when your drunk or have even had anything to drink, Devi. I want you, but I won’t have you like this.”

I have to lay my head on his chest due to the spinning, dizziness and burning of tears in my eyes. “So why bring me here dammit.”

“Because the fucking thought of you out there like this is enough to drive me to want to hurt someone. I wouldn’t care if they were a friend of yours or not. I want you in with me in my bed, but I don’t trust myself enough to even allow that right now. This is my spare room. In here, I’ll know you’re safe from me and everything else.”

Something about that touches me and I sigh out his name. I let out a shuddering breath and his arms circle around me. The embrace is comforting and claiming all at the same time. It ends too soon though because he pulls back and lifts my chin once more to look at him. “I said you are different and if you can remember this in the morning, maybe you will see I’m proving that to you.”

He places a small gentle kiss to the tip of my nose and then gently pushes me towards the bathroom. I walk in and look at him over my shoulder as I grab the door to close it. The wild look is back. So is the chest heaving and clenched fists. I hesitate to close it but he shakes his head and backs away.

“Tomorrow, Devi. I’ll be here when you wake up tomorrow.” Then it seems like he melts into the darkness and I hear the door to the room click.

I close the bathroom door and lean against it.

The mirror in front of me shows the reflection of a girl I don’t even know right now. Who is this girl that’s feeling hunger like I have never felt before?

It’s almost like I’m the old me. The one from back in Amity that lived and loved with such wild and passion.

Was it always there and the serum just brought it, and only it, forth? Is that what Eric is to me now? Some kind of drug that brings out a side I thought I might have lost forever.

All the questions and events of the night have my mind spinning.

There isn’t an answer for me right now. The only way I can get one is to move forward and find out.

But, in the light of day will I remember this? In that harsh morning after light am I going to want to find out as much as I do now?

I take the pills, drink the water, step into the shower and then put on the shirt that smells so much like Eric it makes me feel like I wrapped in his arms again. I almost think that I won’t be able to sleep at all but it finds me sooner than I would have liked.

#fanfiction #divergent fanfiction #eric x oc #divergent au #smut #romance #humor #eric coulter #oc #jai courtney #diane guerrero

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mintycanoodles · 5 years ago

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mmmmmmaybe a Cupcake Wars au where the Graduation Kiss never happened and Bitty and Jack went their separate ways never able to shake the feeling they missed out on something big and maybe neither of them really get over it but what can you do but waste countless sleepless nights thinking about what if’s??

so a handful of years down the road Bitty has his bakery and Jack is the darling of the Falconers but is a walking talking PR disaster who never really grew out of the hockey robot thing. so.

The Falconers are having some sort of Thing and get involved with Cupcake Wars to promote it. And who gets guest judge duty? To work on his public persona and media navigational abilities? Jack of course.

And who, of course, is one of the contestants??? Bitty duh so Bitty goes, and iirc contestants aren’t told the theme or guest judge beforehand so the drama bomb that drops when eyes meet and repressed feelings get tapped into and yeeesh now that’s what I call Awkward.

so. Despite two participants with major internal and interpersonal drama happening, the episode actually goes mostly smoothly. Neither Jack nor Bitty mentions it to anyone on the production team because whose business is it anyway and obviously no one did any homework on them so they?? act like they just don’t know each other???????? It’s not like they can sneak off for five minutes and hash it out so both just. Try not to interact directly too much but come on you know things happen.

Bitty can’t exactly forget Jack’s favorites and Jack cannot even begin to be unbiased (not when every taste he gets of Bitty's baking feels like home again, even after all this time). Jack may or may not fight the judges at every critique aimed at Bitty’s cupcakes, but Bitty hardly needs it, he solidly trounces the competition and wins. And gets invited to the Falconers Thing. Which works out pretty great in Jack's eyes.

Except it doesn’t. Bitty avoids him all evening? He cold shoulders Jack the whole time and Jack kind of gets it, the cameras are still rolling and they can’t exactly catch up now but still? Before Jack gets anything approaching a chance to talk Bitty packs up and he’s out of there as soon as he’s contractually able to.

So Jack may or may not eat his feelings in cupcakes over it. It feels like another missed opportunity and it stings and he wonders how he keeps getting it so wrong.

According to Georgia it’s an unqualified success. She watches the footage, pats him on the back for going through with it, and says something offhand about how well he got on with a few of the contestants (one in particular she notices. she doesn’t mention it). Jack gets in a funk over it, but there’s nothing to do but forget about it until the episode airs.

No one, definitely not Georgia, definitely not the PR department, is prepared for the chaos the premier causes. It’s not immediate, the episode comes out on a quiet Tuesday and the Falcs do some promotion for it, but not much, so some of Jack’s diehard fans watch it but they’re not expecting any kind of major major response. It was supposed to be something small and light to soften Jack’s image and work his media relations muscles. Who even watches Cupcake Wars anyways???? Plenty do. And they go nuts for the episode.

People who have no idea who Jack is, barely an idea what hockey even is, see Mr. tall dark and Canadian and see too exactly what Georgia had seen. Bitty and Jack and all the special attention paid to the little southern baker boy.

It’s, of course, obvious to anyone with eyes the sparks between them, the lingering looks, how Bitty can barely stop from grinning when Jack lists off his every favorite part of Bitty's cupcakes but has monosyllabic responses for the other contestants. As subtle as the two thought they’d been, they really hadn’t and it’s only a matter of time before it’s trending on Twitter and every lovelorn Cupcake Wars fan is writing RPF and subtweeting the Falcs and Bitty's account about it.

This is not exactly the public image Georgia had been hoping Jack would cultivate. They try to put out the fires, calm things down and make a few #relatable Twitter posts about it that the PR interns cook up. Georgia wheedles the real story out of Jack, and it throws her off kilter actually, once he fesses up to a few details that would make the collective heads of the internet reel, but she’s a professional. The PR team is a crack squad. They get things under control.

Until, of course, some intrepid fans uncover The Truth.

Mamely, how Bitty and Jack totally knew each other because they were totally on the same hockey team in college??? And had totally set records together and there were totally pictures still archived on school websites of celebration hugs and even a few traces left of a senior photography project that featured one Eric R. Bittle (and others) in touchingly intimate portraits???? and uhhhhh explanations????????? are needed?????????

#cupcakegate takes the Twitterverse by collective storm. Kardashians whom??? Bitty gets bombarded, the Falconer’s can’t make a single post about a home game without demands for updates on the drama and Georgia is nearly drowning in it all but wading through it like a champ.

The PR department reaches out to Bitty in an email that Bitty never responds to, his stomach too tied up in knots over all this debacle is bringing up, but he feels like this is partially his fault. He tries his best. He does a tell all vlog to set the record straight.

He tries to keep it simple, stick to the main points.

Why didn’t they say anything? Why act like they didn’t know each other?

Neither of them knew the other would be there (truth) and they didn’t want to disrupt filming or make it seem like Bitty had an unfair advantage.

Are they currently romantically involved?

No (truth).

Had they ever, at any point, back in college, been romantically involved?

No (truth?).

Was there anything, anything at all behind the long looks and soft gazes? A single spark? An ounce of unspoken, hidden attraction?????

No (lies).

Bitty bears his heart a little, gets going on a tangent on their relationship back in college and how much Jack helped him through and what a good team they’d been and how he’s a little sad he and Jack drifted so far apart (lies, it hurts, it’s never stopped hurting) but he’s happy for Jack and really proud of him and glad he got the chance to see him again and wishes him the best (truth).

Of COURSE this only makes things worse. Bless Bitty's heart but he has zero self awareness when it comes to Jack and his clearly lovesick vlog brings avid followers of the whole debacle to new emotional heights. People are invested. The drama continues.

It comes to a head when Jack himself braves the world of Twitter, finally, to try and hash things out privately with Bitty so he logs onto the dusty old handle Georgia created and verified for him ages ago that he’d, bless her heart, just never gotten the hang of. He knows Bitty's handle from all this hullabaloo now so he opens up a message, stares at the blinking screen for about a minute, then promptly has a breakdown.

Everything comes back to him. Every warm moment they’d shared back in college. Every time he felt Bitty there for him and every inch of home and safe Bitty ever gave him.

And how he never told Bitty how he felt (lies. still feels). How he’d let that slip right through his fuckup fingers.

It takes him two weeks to draft the message. That’s ages in internet time, so things die down a bit in the interim and other celebrity dramas unfold so Jack finally stops getting pestered about it by every pap and chirped by every team mate. He’s glad they’ll never put him on reality baking competition show duty again but is it worth it? (yes. yes it is)

It gives Jack plenty of time to stew and stew he does, until he’s finally able to write out a pretty succinct summary of everything he never got a chance to say.

It boils down to a couple main points:

Bitty was probably the best thing that ever happened to Jack. Bitty made him softer and better able to handle things and just gave him the safety net he needed and he would always be grateful to Bitty for that.

Jack had also never meant for them to drift apart, he’d always wanted to stay in touch, actually, he’d always wanted so much more than that but Jack knew Bitty didn’t feel the same way, so Jack created the space between them and he was sorry he’d been such a poor friend and had gotten it so wrong.

Jack hoped, maybe beyond hope, that it wasn’t too late. Jack asked if they could be friends again, that he missed Bitty, and he hoped to hear back from him.

Jack is rather proud of himself for all the emotional eloquence that goes into the message. He thinks Shitty would be, too. Of course, it is kind of annoying he has to split it up into so many pieces and tag Bitty's account in each one so they’ll send to him, something about a 140 character limit? Jack doesn’t really get it, but social media isn’t his thing. So he sends his piecemeal message and waits patiently for Bitty to get back to him.

Georgia regrets ever trying to get Jack any amount of media exposure.

Jack’s not so private love letter is screen capped, saved to hard drives, printed into longevity and takes the internet land by storm all over again. Jacks completely oblivious to it until day two or so when Shitty, Lardo, and every person he knew at any point at Samwell bomb his phone. Georgia does her best, she really does, but it’s the last straw for the PR team. They’ve long since collapsed in a puddle of tears and Georgia has to coordinate the disaster relief effort herself and enforce the media lockdown until they can just deal with this and Jack, it’s okay, we’re all here for you and your sexuality is valid but honey, no more internet for you. Georgia does take the thread down but its too little too late and there is going to be a million and one interviews about this and she hasn’t slept in days and-

and Jack feels bad for her. He feels a little embarrassed his personal business is so out in the open like that but. Well. It’s his own fault. He should have probably asked a few more questions about how to work Twitter. But deep down? It’s a huge weight off. He’d never exactly planned on coming out publicly because he never really thought he’d have anyone who would make him consider it but. Well. He’s said what he needed to say. About time.

He lets Georgia tell him what to do and what to say to whom. He does a few interviews, nothing televised, just a few online publications. It takes several more weeks for any of it to approach any sort of calm again, but eventually, an equilibrium is reached. And then, only then, does Jack get a call from a number he doesn’t have saved yet.

“Hey, Jack,” he hears in a thick southern accent when he picks up, and it doesn’t, not at all, send a shiver of pure warmth all the way down to his toes (lies, all lies).

“Bittle-Eric? Bitty. Hey,” he says. Bitty laughs.

“I think maybe we should talk. Would you, maybe, want to meet up for coffee sometime?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, I’d love that.” (truth)

#zimbits #omgcp #whoops i slipped and wrote a fic?#this was just supposed to be an idea but then it kept happening #a cupcake wars au that no one asked for but here it is anyway #and i shall call it;#All is Fair in Love and Cupcake Wars

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