#Friend's Oc Buddy

[wardenswateringhole]

Shadowed Cross - Chapter 3

(This is an AU worked on by @peachypede and myself. Inspired by @bluebellowl's 50's AU.)

CW:

-none

Cut for length. Enjoy.

Ilona stared out the window, watching the world pass by as she rode in the backseat of the car. Buddy had said it was Mercedes Benz and then rattled of numbers and terms that swiftly flew over Ilona’s head. She ran her hand over the red leather seat. Her human hand.

It felt strange. Cross drilled a spell quickly into her head before he even let her step foot out the front door. The spell worked thus far. She was human again. But it was temporary. Cross said it would last however long she could hold it. He made her promise to start finding a safe place as soon as she felt even a hint of the spell fading. Promise wasn’t entirely accurate. It was more that he held her by the nape of the neck and hissed how badly things would go if she was caught. She gulped as she remembered the feeling of his hot breath against her ear, saying she’d be left to her fate and he would deny all knowledge of her as people who did not care about her well-being captured her and did gods knew what to her.

“You okay, kid?”

Buddy’s voice from the driver’s seat pulled her out of her mind. He still wore the shades but she could see his eyes glance at her in the rear view mirror as he drove. She nodded.

“Yeah. I’m okay…”

Her eyes drifted around the interior. It was all red. A dull boring red that didn’t assault the eyes but didn’t beg for the attention of such either. Ilona felt small. She could stretch her legs out completely. The tips of the white pumps still didn’t even reach the back of the front seat. Buddy could be heard laughing softly.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Who in the world could need this much room?”

“You mean other than Mr.’I’m too tall for my own good’ Cross?”

“Oh yeah… I guess he would be a little squished in a regular car...”

She rubbed her arm. The conflicting feelings of right and wrong returned. The skin felt alien without the fur. But she knew it was how it should be. She could still feel Buddy’s eyes on her.

“Without all that fur… I think I recognize you now.”

Ilona looked up at him. “I don’t think I ever made a delivery to Mr. Cross’s mansion…”

Buddy shook his head. “Nah… Somewhere else… Were you ever a waitress or something?”

Ilona’s mind traveled back to a much less content time in her life. Her first job. She was a soda jerk. One of the few female ones. It showed in how the guests treated her. When she wasn’t being treated as completely incompetent for things beyond her control, she was getting harassed for the short skirt she was made to wear. The owner had definitely believed in the adage ‘sex sells’.

“Uh. Yeah… I was the soda jerk for a diner on the other side of town. Uh, Lenny’s Eats.”

“That was you!?” Buddy sounded like he was ready to wreck the car. “You’re the one who broke that dessert dish over that guy’s head!”

“You were there for that!?”

Buddy howled in laughter. “Boy Howdy! I was there with some other drivers while Joe-- I mean, Mr. Cross was at some function. The fellas and I were about to get up and get the guy after he yanked on your skirt but you beat us to it.”

Ilona’s cheeks still burned with how angry that had made her. She was also written up and had her pay docked for the incident. The owner was obligated to tell the guy to take a hike but he also made sure that Ilona couldn’t assault the customers in return, no matter what they had done. It didn’t dawn on her that she was the only one to actually put up with that treatment until she had decided to quit. The boss flipped between begging her to stay and verbally assaulting her as she put in her notice. In the end, she didn’t even finish the two weeks. The man was left short staffed for eleven of the fourteen days she had said she’d remain. Last she had seen the place, there was a for sale sign on the window and the doors were boarded shut.

Served the asshole right, she had thought.

“You got moxie, kid. Tons of it. Whatever happens, you’ll be okay. I know you will.”

Ilona thought for a moment before nodding. Buddy’s words seemed to almost magically dispel the anxiety that gnawed on her nerves.

“Thanks, Buddy.”

She saw the trademark red striped walls of Jerry’s diner out the corner of her eye. Buddy drove past and parked into another parking space for a business next door. He put the car in park and turned in his seat to look at her.

“You remember the plan?”

Ilona nodded. “I’ve got it. I’ll be okay.”

“Good luck. Kid. I’m routing for ya.”

“Thanks again, Buddy.”

The door clicked as Ilona opened the door.

--

Everett’s reflection in the face of his wristwatch glowered back at him as he tapped his fingers against the table. It had been twenty minutes. Twenty minutes since he and Pecha had arrived and sat down. They had a normal meet up time. 10am. Each time. It wasn’t unheard of for Ilona to be a few minutes late but she always made it close to time. She was never this late.

Everett’s eyes drifted up to Pecha sucking down her soda. His eyes watched the liquid disappear rapidly. The ice clinked against the glass as it no longer had it’s bubbly cushion to keep it a float. A loud slurping sound signaled the soda’s demise as she stopped and looked back at him.

“What?”

“That never ceases to amaze me. Where does it go?” Everett replied flatly. Pecha shrugged as she dabbed daintily at the corners of her mouth.

“In my stomach, I would assume.”

Everett sighed. “As Ilona would say, ‘you’re going to hate yourself later’… of course she’s not here to say that…”

Everett propped his head on his hand and looked around the diner. It was a bit of a slow day. Some older diners chatted and the sounds of the cook working away could be heard. His voice yelling order names that sounded like some made up language would pierce the quiet from time to time. Without fail, the waitress would gather the order and deliver it where it needed to go despite the words that came out the cooks mouth making no sense at all. What the hell even was “Adam and Eve on a raft and two blowout patches and axle grease”?

Ilona would know. Ilona would have been the one to translate when either he or Pecha was curious. Ilona was not here.

Everett huffed once more before staring at his watch like it would magically bid Ilona to appear.

“She’ll be here, Everett.” Pecha stirred the ice around in soda-less glass absentmindedly. “She probably just got caught up in a delivery.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of…” Everett sat up straight. His hands waved in front of him as he spoke, “She’s always caught up in something since she left that diner job. That delivery job seems to hold all her time lately.”

Everett had been surprised when she had called him up to join her for a celebration. He had arrived at Pecha’s house and later stood in Pecha’s backyard with a watering hose as Ilona set fire to the uniform she had loathed so deeply. It was the night she vowed to never return to that place. She then proceeded to explain she was getting paid very well for her delivery job. It had made Everett scratch his head. He didn’t know of many delivery jobs that paid that well. He was happy for her nonetheless. That was before he got a good look at her new lifestyle.

“Haven’t you noticed how she’s been since taking up that delivery job? Her clothes at gotten at least three new patches in the past month and that was a brand new pair of pants! Her shirt is going ragged as well! And the injuries! She’s had bruises and scrapes for days!”

Pecha listened to Everett’s rant while still playing with the straw in her ice. He named off several instances he felt that Ilona had not taken her safety seriously. Several more were counted off on his fingers where he wondered about her hygiene as she was covered in dirt and debris from unknown sources.

“Is she still eating? Drinking water?” Pecha asked suddenly causing Everett to stop his complaining mid sentence. He looked at her blankly.

“Yeah? Seems so. She didn’t look thinner or anything…”

“And taking her medicine?”

“Well, yeah, she hasn’t had any episodes and still looks healthy all things considered.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.” Pecha assured him, looking down at her cup once more and watching the ice swirl with the motion of her straw.

“Ilona has always been a bit aloof. She’s rough around the edges and active. She doesn’t mean to get hurt, but she seems to know what to do when it happens. She may not have done anything with it, but that degree in medicine seems to have given her some knowledge when it comes to taking care of herself in those situations. I really don’t think you should worry so much about her. She can take care of herself… Don’t you think so, Everett?”

Silence.

“Everett?”

Pecha looked back up at Everett to see him staring at something behind her. His eyes were wide and his mouth was dropped open. She turned and saw the subject of Everett’s astonishment.

Walking toward them was Ilona. A green and white gingham dress flowed around her as she moved. Pecha couldn’t help but let her own jaw drop.

“I-Ilona!?”

Everett was already clamoring to his feet to pull out a chair for her. His mouth had still not closed. Ilona sat and gave Everett a small thank you as he sat back down with eyes still glued to her.

“What? Is it too much?”

Pecha shook her head as if trying to set her ability to speak back in motion. “N-no! It’s great! I just… I thought you didn’t like dresses…”

It was true. Ilona had made a big deal about never wearing anything dress like ever again after the harassment she had suffered at her previous job. It had pained Pecha so very much. Pecha loved to dress up in pretty clothes, especially when Ilona was there to do it with her.

Ilona shrugged. “Those clothes I was wearing to do my deliveries were getting really worn and it’s hot. I’ll have to be dressy until I can get a new shirt and trousers.”

Everett found his voice finally. “I didn’t know you owned something so nice…”

“I…” Ilona rubbed at her arm once more. “It… was… well, it was buried deep in my closet. I didn’t want to have to wear it unless I absolutely had to.”

Everett opened his mouth to speak only to be excitedly grabbed by Pecha. “Here they come!”

The waitress came over and sat three plates down. Each had a serving of stuffed french toast with different flavors. One strawberry, one blueberry, and one chocolate. Each were drizzled in warm syrup and a dollop of whipped cream sat pertly atop it all but was quickly melting from the heat of the meal. The sugary substance slowly dripped down the sides of the bread and mixed into the cream cheese, flavoring, and powered sugar.

The scent assaulted Ilona’s senses. She could feel the familiar ferality rising as she stared at the three plates. Her jaw clenched hard as she held herself back. Despite her earlier meal, her stomach still growled loudly. Pecha laughed as she retrieved her cutlery from the rolled napkin.

“Wow Ilona, I can hear your stomach from here!”

Ilona forced a grin as she dug the heel of her shoe into the toes of the other foot. The pain was enough to push away the urge to plunge her face into the food. “Y-yeah! I didn’t realize how hungry I am. Uh, who’s is who’s?”

“Well…” Everett began, holding a fork at the ready. “We couldn’t decide which ones we wanted and didn’t know what flavor you’d like either so we figured we’d try all three together.” He cut a piece from the chocolate one and quickly scooped it into his mouth, taking care to not let the syrup and whipped cream drip everywhere. His eyes widened as he held a hand over his mouth. Pecha and Ilona stared at him.

“Well?” Pecha asked.

“This might have been a mistake… I don’t want to share.” Everett replied behind his hand.

Pecha and Ilona glanced to one another before digging into the other two flavors. Their reactions were much the same but all three managed to control themselves enough to urge one another to try what they themselves enjoyed.

The table descended into giggles and playful banter as they enjoyed the meal. Ilona had long forget about her earlier encounter, losing herself to sweet treats and the company of friends. The memory of her promise to Cross came back to her as she saw Buddy out the window. He threw her a thumbs up. She gave him a slight nod before he turned and left.

Good. He found my bike.

“So Ilona…”

Ilona turned to Everett with her fork still in her mouth. She grunted at him as she continued to lick the sweetness from it’s prongs.

“You know why we agreed to meet…”

Oh no, here we go, Ilona thought to herself. She pulled the fork from her mouth and set it back on the plate in front of her, long empty from their feasting. “Okay… You got me here. Let’s get on with it. What do you have to say?”

Everett gave her a sidelong look. “The same thing I said yesterday… Your new job is a bit too dangerous in my opinion.”

Ilona nodded. “You did say that, and I understand. I’ll try not to get hurt so much in the future.”

“Not good enough.” Everett grunted. “You keep saying that and I keep seeing new wounds and patches on your clothes.”

“What do you want form me, Everett? I’m not stopping being a delivery biker because you can’t stop being a worry wart.”

“And you don’t worry enough!”

“WHOA! Hey! Hey… let’s calm down now…” Pecha held her hands up at both her friends as they both huffed and looked away from one another. “Look, I get where Everett is coming from. You have been kinda… well…” Ilona’s eyes drifted over to Pecha as she struggled to find the right words. “… Raggedy…”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Ilona asked, crossing her arms. “So because I’m not dressed up prim and proper and reeking of flowers and perfume I’m suddenly a danger to myself!?”

“No! That’s not—”

“Dammit Ilona, can you stop being stubborn! You know you can’t keep going like this with your illness! What if you really get yourself one time and bleed out!? No one is going to be able to help you! What if those dogs really did get a hold of you!? You would have been killed!”

Pecha’s head swung toward Everett. “Dogs!? What dogs!?”

Everett scoffed. “Oh yeah, didn’t tell you about that part. The ever adventurous but oh-so-responsible Ilona Vincent decided it would be a good idea to cut through Mr. Carlson’s yard and take a chance that his dog’s wouldn’t chew her to bits.”

“ILONA!”

“Hey! I made it didn’t I!? I’m still here!”

“Yeah but you still got hurt! Your arm! ...Wait…”

Ilona looked to where Everett’s eyes laid on her. Her arm. Her bare arm. Her bare and uninjured arm.

Shit.

“You… your arm… it was… it was all scraped and bloody yesterday…”

Ilona could feel her heart beat faster. She didn’t think of this. She should have insisted on getting her regular clothes from her apartment but she was so panicked about being late that it didn’t dawn on her.

“What? N-no it wasn’t. You must have dreamed that…”

“No. I swear it was. I would bet my entire inheritance on it. Ilona…”

Ilona looked away quickly. She could feel something wavering. Like a thin membrane threatening to snap. Pecha’s hands guided her gaze to Pecha’s. Pecha looked worried.

“Ilona? Your eyes. Are you feeling okay?”

“My eyes!?”

Ilona pulled her face away. She rubbed her cheeks, trying to calm down. A glance down at her feet saw the barest hint of black fuzz beginning to sprout around her ankles.

“I need to go!”

Ilona stood. Everett and Pecha stood with her. “Wait! Ilona! What’s wrong!?”

“I’m fine! I-- I just remembered I have an important delivery to make!”

She pushed away from the chair and rushed toward the door. She yelled back to her companions without looking back. “Thanks for the meal! I’ll call you both later!”

“Dammit! Ilona! Wait!”

Everett’s words were lost as she almost sprinted out the door. Everett grumbled as she dug money out of his pocket and threw it all the table before running toward the door himself. Pecha followed awkwardly. They both exited the diner just in time to see Ilona blazing down the street and into the distance. Everett grabbed his bike angrily.

“Everett!? What are you doing!?”

“If she thinks she can just blow us off like that after all that, she’s got another thing coming!”

Everett sped off leaving Pecha to scramble onto her own bike and attempt to catch up. Whatever Ilona was hiding, the pair were determined to confront her about it.

[shandzii]

been normal over Pressure guard OC's with my friends :] silly AU that lives rent-free in my brainnn

characters featured belong to me, @allbically, pink, seth, and zerum

[nonomives]

Her name's Minnie (like the mouse)

As for her lore, shes a mad scientist basically. She has a weird ideology about science, considering it a form of art. A former researcher of the Fontaine Research Institute, she quit after she found hereelf misaligning with the way the institute handles itself. She now works as a freelancer that takes comissions on the go, her latest one being an offer given by Wriothesley regarding a particular secret project.

Her past is a little cloudy but she was once a member of high society, her mother a diplomat from Sumeru who settled in fontaine after marrying a noble from Fontaine. She's since been disowned by the family due to several complications. Not that she cares.

Whats her vision element? Geo? Anemo? Sike. Its Electro. Misdirection– its on the back of her jacket.

[emry-stars-oc]

Tea in a thimble (don't worry, its little mushroom hands are very temperature resistant. Probably feels like a hand warmer 💕)

Sticker info under the cut

This will be the September patreon sticker! Anyone on or joining the star tier (10usd) before October 1st will get it ✨🍄✨ as always, joining for just a month and leaving again when you have what you want is a valid option :)

[crowliphale]

Get yourself a photographer that loves his camera, his daughter, and pretty much nothing else

[saggitary]

I was just writing and I realized that I’d never considered that Fives and Echo probably had good friends that were also ARC troopers that they went on missions with.

Perhaps they were besties with a pair of ARCs from Bly’s battalion. Their favorite explosive tech ARC was from the 104th, the one Echo liked playing sabacc in the was from Ponds’ legion, Fives preferred longer missions with an ARC from the 212th.

There is so much potential here I am suddenly realizing. Do you think they all mourned when Echo ‘died’? Do you think they were shocked when they partnered up with The Bad Batch and found Echo there?

I NEED ARC STORIES AND FRIENDS

[frenchfry99]

🌺 I'm back with flower besties! :] 🌼

Couple of doodles below the cut

What if they all are a lil silly friendgroup,,, having tea and frolicking in the field n stuff,,,

THEY'RE JUST CHILL LIL GUYS TOGETHER I LOVE THEM SMMMM <3

Minnie and Timothy by @thelone-copper and Buddy by @dxkjf !! Their designs are so fun to draw gah!!! :D

Bonus mini Magnolia and mini Buddy!!

Plants were 'Lia's special interest since they were a lil kid so she'd be so happy to meet kid Buddy because "moo?? a talking flower?? Must befriend!!" (Would treat him nicely obv!!)

[faragonart]

"Greedy cats get the cone."

Ft. @kyle273 's boy, Kerr (He's still working on his greed tactics...)

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 22

PREVIOUS

Y’know how sometimes you have something that you need to do or something that you know is going to happen but you just keep…putting it off? Like you know at some point it is going to happen but you put it off over and over and over and over again? You’re getting increasingly anxious every time you put it off because you know it has to get done but you also know that the longer you wait the worse it is going to get. Finally, FINALLY, the anxiety is just a little too much and you end up having to deal with it.

You finally deal with it and the whole ordeal takes maybe five minutes tops and it was in no way shape or form worth the level of anxiety that you put yourself through. Like you worried about this for a good and long while and it wasn’t even that bad?

That is currently how FF feels about being stabbed by Andrew Minyard.

This is what he was so worried about that he had lost sleep, had nightmares, had lost weight, and had exacerbated his stress ulcers over.

Getting stabbed wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he had thought it was going to be. Maybe it was the fact that it was just a single stab wound instead of the Psycho levels that he had been imagining (Wow, showers were going to be so much less stressful now that he didn’t have to confirm Andrew Minyard’s location before triple checking the lock). Maybe it was the fact that he is PUMPED full of adrenaline from his fights against Jackson and Romero but the stab wound didn’t even really hurt at the moment.

This isn’t even the worse thing that had happened to him this year!

That honor still goes to the joint winners of when his Step Family and mother found out that he had a full-ride to Palmetto and when he had tripped up the same step on the stairs at school three times in a row as people watched and laughed.

(Maybe also the solitary congratulations from his Grandma in regards to his graduation but FF doesn’t let himself think about that, won’t think about it.)

He wouldn’t necessarily call being in a state of ‘stabbed’ a pleasant time but Andrew was being so NICE about it.

“Stop trying to sit up you fucking idiot!” Andrew shouts at him.

Well….Andrew’s version of nice.

(This is the same version of nice that he had misunderstood for months at this point. Maybe FF is just enough in shock from the stab wound in his stomach that he’s starting to grasp the basics in the difficult language of Andrew Minyard’s niceness.)

Andrew had gotten off the phone with 911 and then started pulling off his own jacket before draping it over FF’s upper body, wedging his phone between his shoulder and his ear, and then Andrew started to apply pressure to his stomach wound.

Ow.

That is not a great feeling. This stabbing may eke out past the great triple trip of March 2010.

“No, take back your jacket. You’ll get cold if you don’t have it on.” FF argues because his own jacket is barely doing the job. Maybe it’s the cold pavement of the alley, maybe it’s the blood loss, or maybe it’s the cooling sweat he’d worked up but he is shivering pretty badly.

A thought occurs to him as he feels the weird wet stickiness of his own blood sticking to Nicky’s shirt. “Can you help me get my jacket off?” He asks looking pleadingly at Andrew, “It’s my dad’s. I don’t wanna mess it up with my blood.” He clarifies when Andrew looks at him like he’s a lunatic.

Except his second call must connect right then because Andrew’s answer is non-sensical to what FF had asked, “Neil, let Roland know the police and ambulances are en route.” There’s a brief pause and the pressure against his stomach increases as a muscle in Andrew’s jaw jumps. “Smith got stabbed.” He says and he looks angry, angrier than FF had ever seen Andrew when he’s talking to Captain Neil. There is another pause, more than likely Neil saying something or asking a question, “No, it wasn’t them.” Andrew grits out and the pressure on FF’s stomach hurts, “Just get out here, I need help with smith and making sure these two assholes don’t go anywhere before the police come and grab them.” He says before he pulls one hand away from Smith’s stomach (wow he really is bleeding isn’t he?) to hang up the phone.

Andrew’s gaze turns back to him fully, “You’re not moving an inch Smith, your jacket can be cleaned.” He hisses. “Now stay still and don’t fall asleep.” He orders.

Andrew seems stressed so FF complies. He can’t help but notice how Andrew’s hands seem to be shaking as the press down on his stomach. He kind of wishes he had a pillow or something for his head because he’s starting to feel a little dizzy. Andrew’s jacket would be safer from his blood if it was a pillow instead of a blanket. Still, FF would sooner die than spit on any of Andrew’s current efforts to make him more comfortable.

He looks at the knife sticking out of his stomach. Well, he might die regardless of whether or not he spits on Andrew’s efforts.

He needs to take his mind off this.

“Should we take it out and pretend the Dundee knife stabbed me instead??” FF asks letting his mind go to the first thought in his head so that he could be distracted from his own mortality. “I think it’s still under the dumpster over there.” He moves to point one of his hands towards where the knife had remained throughout this entire ordeal.

Andrew’s knee pinned his arm before he could move it, “Stop moving Smith.” Andrew reminded him before moving his knee. “We have to leave the knife in. You’ll bleed to death otherwise.” Andrew reminds.

“I guess that’s true, so do we just say that Romero got a handle on your knife and stabbed me?” He asks fighting his own shivers since he’s a little worried that any shaking on his part would just make the stab wound worse.

“I stabbed you Smith.” Andrew says looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I know,” FF agrees, “but we’re not going to say THAT to the cops.” He says and shock really is one HELL of a drug because he thinks he might have actually given Andrew Minyard an incredulous look with his atrophied face muscles. It’s either Shock or the knowledge that even if he irritates Andrew, what’s Andrew going to do about it?

STAB HIM?

“You’re going to lie to the cops?” Andrew asks, “I STABBED you Smith.” Andrew repeats.

“Yeah, I know!” FF repeats back, “You stabbed me on ACCIDENT.” FF makes sure to use the same intonation that Andrew had used to emphasize the word Stabbed. “Jackson wanted to stab me on PURPOSE. You saw that knife Andrew.” He tries to gesture towards the knife again but again Andrew’s knee pinned his hand.

He could use his other one but the reminder to stay still is enough.

“I still stabbed you.” Andrew says removing his knee again when it’s clear that FF wasn’t going to try and gesture again.

“Well, if I was going to get stabbed by anyone, I guess I’m glad my first time was with you.” Andrew let’s out a bark of a laugh that sounds more like it was punched out of him than anything, “Honestly, I don’t think Jackson would have given me his jacket afterwards or try and help me keep my blood in my body.” He says and it feels like a victory (not a both hands in the air victory cry level victory but it was close) when Andrew’s face settled into one of faint amusement.

“Probably not.” Andrew agreed, “He doesn’t seem big on Aftercare.” He says.

FF doesn’t know what that means but nods like he does, “So, Romero got a hold of your knife during our tussle and he’s the one who stabbed me. Okay? That’s the story I’m going to stick with no matter who asks me.” He looks Andrew in the eye.

“Alright Smith,” one of Andrew’s hands leaves his stomach and clasps around his shoulder and FF can’t help but notice how neither of Andrew’s hands are shaking anymore. “We can lie to the police.” He squeezes FF’s shoulder.

“Nice.” He says and lets his head fall back onto the concrete. He hears a siren in the distance and hopes it’s coming for him.

They sit in silence for maybe 30 seconds before the door slams open and only Andrew’s hands on his stomach and shoulder keep him from shooting straight up in a panic. Captain Neil seemed to take in the scene at lightning speed but it was Andrew who spoke first, “You left Aaron and Nicky with Roland?” He asks.

“Yeah I did,” Captain Neil confirms and FF can see the moment that his eyes land on the knife handle jutting out of FF’s stomach, “Andrew, what are we going to tell the police?” Captain Neil asks and FF could already see Neil crafting a lie to cover Andrew. That’s one of the things that FF likes about Captain Neil and Andrew’s relationship. He thinks it’s nice that both of them have someone who no matter the circumstances would be there with a shovel to help bury a body. He even thought it was nice when he thought it’d be his body!

“The second guy stabbed me.” The lie comes out smoothly which is good because he is planning on committing to it and Captain Neil blinks and looks at him, “He got hold of Andrew’s knife during the tussle.” He adds.

Captain Neil looks to Andrew, “You said it wasn’t-“

“I guess Smith can lie to a liar.” Andrew interrupts.

Captain Neil’s eyes widen before a wicked grin spread across his face that made FF just a little uncomfortable but only because Andrew’s grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened and his nostrils flared the way they did before the two usually started speaking in Russian.

He can handle being stabbed, he cannot handle being in shock and pretending that he doesn’t know what the two of them are saying to one another.

“Can you tell Nicky I’m sorry I got blood on his clothes?” He asks and both Captain Neil and Andrew’s gaze snap away from eye-fucking each other. He looks down and the clothes are black and they haven’t moved the knife so the wound is plugged still but yeah there’s definitely blood seeping into the shirt, not to mention the hole. “Could you tell him I’m sorry about that?” He asks.

“You are going to tell him yourself Smith.” Andrew hisses, “You are going to be fine. Do you understand me?” He asks before turning to Neil, “Can you bunch your jacket under his legs, it’s better to keep them higher than his head and heart?” He asks.

Aw.

Andrew is just so nice.

He can’t BELIEVE he thought Andrew wanted to hunt him for sport.

He’d apologize for thinking that but he thinks it’d be better to just let that particular misunderstanding go unmentioned.

Captain Neil bunches his jacket up and puts it under FF’s legs before he goes over to check on Romero and Jackson. In the corner of his eye he sees Captain Neil pause at the sight of Romero before moving over to Jackson.

“Why is he in these?!” Neil asks baffled.

“It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” Yeah he’s definitely going into shock. The sirens are getting closer though so he’ll probably be okay.

***

The cops all have a bit of a laugh about Jackson’s cuffs until Neil tells them exactly who they are taking into custody. Neil could admit that he’s a little irritated with Andrew that at no point did the man clarify that the people who FF and Andrew were dealing with were Romero and Jackson.

Those are his father’s goons.

“They were here for me.” Neil says to the police officer and Andrew’s hand tightens in his, “They tried to take Smith because he’s my friend.”

They had decided on their story before the cops came. FF had no idea who any of these people were and was just defending himself. He’d gone out to catch his breath in the alley when Jackson had shown up. Neil had asked how in the world FF had handled Jackson on his own but FF must have been getting kind of loopy from blood loss because all he said was, “He told me to sing so I did.”

Neil can find out the full story later.

The important part is.

“Jackson went after Smith but Smith won the fight.” Neil says looking at where the cops are trying to decide how to get the fuzzy pink handcuffs off of Jackson to get him in the far more secure police issued handcuffs.

“Your friend said that you and he took out Romero together. That Romero is the one who stabbed him with your knife.” He says.

“Yes.” Andrew answers simply and Neil squeezes his hand as a reminder, “I went out to grab a smoke and Romero followed after me. Romero got hold of one of my knives in the struggle and stabbed Smith.” Andrew says with his usual deadpan affect.

“Yeah that’s what your friend Smith was saying too.” The officer says. “Well, I’m sure the FBI will want to talk to you all further but for now it’s a pretty clear cut case of self defense and no one but your friend has any serious injuries.” The officer pats Neil on the shoulder and Neil manages not to shirk away from the touch. The officer retracts his hand, “You guys are free to go tonight.” He says and turns back towards the car where a dazed Romero is in the back seat.

“Where did they take Smith?” Andrew asks since they’d been shepherded away from Smith the moment the ambulance had come. They hadn’t been able to ask which hospital Smith was going to be taken to so they could go and get updates.

“Lexington.” The cop answers, “Go on and see your friend. He seemed pretty loopy he kept talking about some beauty contest thing when he was getting loaded into the ambulance. I’m sure he’ll be a riot on painkillers.” The cop goes for a joke but it twists something in Neil’s stomach to think of FF so out of it that he’s talking nonsensically.

He feels Andrew’s hand stiffen in his and knows he’s not alone.

“Thanks.” Neil says before they head towards the front of the club. The club had been emptied out when the cops had come so Roland was babysitting Aaron and Nicky for them while they talked to the cops and FF was loaded out to the hospital.

In a way it’s almost a blessing that Nicky and Aaron are both so blasted that they aren’t comprehending any of what’s going on. They’ll have to drop them off back at the house before they go to the hospital. They’ll beat Wymack there easily even after the interrogation and drop off.

FF had asked them to call Wymack to let him know what was going on “I gave him the rights to make health care decisions for me if I’m incapacitated.” FF had said so Neil texts Wymack the hospital and the address after Andrew rattles it off for him.

“I don’t like that you hid it from me.” Neil says in the car.

“They wanted to kill you.” Andrew won’t apologize.

They still hold hands on the drive back to the Columbia house.

Andrew takes care of getting Aaron into bed while Neil helps Nicky.

Nicky who looks at Neil with a loopy smile and Neil hurts knowing that tomorrow when Nicky finds out about tonight and how he was too blasted to do anything to help FF.

Andrew and Neil reconvene in the Maserati and make their way to the hospital before either of them realize the issue.

“What is the name of the patient you’re looking for an update on?” The receptionist asks.

Both Andrew and Neil freeze.

Fuck.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion​ @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[wardenswateringhole]

Shadowed Cross - Chapter 2

(This is an AU worked on by @peachypede and myself. Inspired by @bluebellowl's 50's AU.)

CW:

-None

Cut for length. Enjoy.

Her body was made of lead. Heavy and immovable. A slow throbbing pain wound it’s way into every muscle. Even with her eyes still shut and stubbornly refusing to open, she could feel the world spinning around her. Nausea gnawed at the empty pit that was her stomach, battling with the hunger that tried to call out.

Ilona briefly wondered if she had been hit by a truck. Her mind grasped desperately at memories of what had happened last night. A sense of urgency. A storm. Something darting out in front of her. A sensation of falling. Someone had a rash on their rear end…?

She groaned as a piercing pain chased away the thoughts only to bring new ones to the forefront. She was screaming. Her body was simultaneously boiling and being ripped apart. The taste of iron flooded her mouth. Her vision was going in an out. From an empty void of pitch black darkness to a visage of a large man sitting by her.

Through the pain and terror, she could feel the gentleness of his touch as he held her hand. She tried to squeeze his as best as her seizing hands would allow her too. A desperate attempt to find grounding through the storm. Her own screaming and pleading was met with a soft voice. She tried to focus on it. His words were lost, but the comfort was there, barely making contact through the chaos wracking her body. All at once, it was too much. She could feel her body go limp and exhaustion pull at her eyes. The fiery pain that had once consumed her settled into a calm warmth. Something ran softly over her cheek.

“In the morning… you’ll be mine.”

Ilona willed her eyes to open. They stung and shut once more as the light flooded her vision. A very sore arm carried her hand to her face. Fingers rubbed at her eyes before moving upward to soothe the pain that still rolled in her head. She felt something hard. Her nails made a light tapping noise as they ran along the ridges.

...nails?

Ilona blinked her eyes and tried to focus as she brought her hand down in front of her face. Her other hand joined it and they rotated before her, showing off darkened skin and black fur. Long claws protruded from the tips. Ilona didn’t like long nails. They got in the way of her work. She would constantly keep them trimmed as short as she could manage without slicing off the tips of her fingers. This seemed on another level.

With what felt like all the effort in the world, Ilona pulled herself upright and pulled back the sheets that covered her legs. They too were covered in black fur. Her feet were no longer small, but large with cat like toes. She moved them curiously. They obeyed her command, confirming they were indeed part of her body. Ilona’s eyes looked to the sides of her feet the back at the blanket she had just removed.

This isn’t my bed.

Ilona pressed her hands down into the mattress. It was softly cushioned. Not the hard wire coils that pressed up against her in her own bed. The blanket was cozy and warm. Not like the ratty swathe of fabric that she dared call a blanket. The pillow felt like a cloud as she ran a hand over it.

The room was a far cry form her apartment. She figured it was probably bigger than her apartment. It had lots of space but didn’t feel empty. In fact it felt surprisingly cozy with the few pieces of furniture there was. There was a small fireplace. Clearly the centerpiece of the room but it didn’t dominate over the other trappings. Art of peaceful landscapes and calm colors hung on the walls in beautiful frames. A small table and a couple chairs sat by the window. A vase of delicate design sat on the table catching the sunlight pouring in with it’s pale porcelain surface.

Ilona’s eyes gravitated to a full length mirror as she swung her legs off the bed. Her feet dangled above the floor like those of a small child before she pushed herself off. She stood, slightly wobbly, but familiar. She padded over to the mirror and looked herself over. The black fur seemed to be everywhere. Horns protruded from her head and curved along her skull. Eyes, completely blackened save for a ring of white stared back at her.

She opened her mouth and gazed within. Pointed fangs decorated her mouth like steepled formations in a cave. A long purple tongue rolled out and hung just below her chin. It rolled back in after a few moments and her mouth closed. Her ears, long and fuzzy, flicked gently as she regarded herself.

Her mind searched for answers. Somewhere it knew this was a situation appropriate for being upset or scared. Yet the sensations wouldn’t surface. They simmered just below the surface, beat out by an uncanny sense of familiarity. This was her. Yet it was not. She had always been like this, yet she hadn’t. The feeling of everything being incorrect was being beat out by a prevailing sense of correctness that she just could not put her finger on.

The thoughts were abandoned in favor of the curtains being played with by the breeze from outside. She hadn’t even realized the window was open until now. She approached the window and looked outside. A large garden lined with neatly trimmed hedges and flower bushes greeted her. A couple trees rustled their leaves, dropping delicate petals from their blossoms. A fountain could be seen surrounded by a paved path. It lead toward a large gate in the distance. Even with squinting her eyes, she could barely see the two figures that stood by the structure like guards to a castle. The iron gates had large imposing visages of the letter “C” on them.

Ilona nearly jumped out the window as something touched her shoulder. She turned quickly to see a figure moving backwards with their hands up.

“Easy! It’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you!”

They made for an interesting sight. Crisp white shirt with form fitting vest and slacks. A black tie was adjusted by black gloves as they cleared their throat. Ilona tilted her head slightly. Their eyes were hidden behind dark shades and their face from the nose down was covered with a mask.

“I had knocked on the door, but I suppose you did not hear. I actually wasn’t expecting you be be awake yet…”

His voice carried a gravelly quality to it. It was gentle yet rough at the same time. He kept his head turned away from Ilona slightly as he spoke.

“You probably have questions. You will get answers. The master of the house would like you to join him for breakfast.”

He gestured to a wardrobe that sat further into the room. “There are clothing options in there. You may wear whatever suits you.”

He turned and strode back to the door. “You can call me Buddy, by the way. I’ll wait outside the door for you to get dressed. Please take your time.”

Ilona could have sworn she could see the corners of his eyes crease as he introduced himself. He exited the room before she could find her voice and begin to bombard him with questions. She looked down at the sheer baby doll gown she wore before looking at the wardrobe.

“Master of the house?”

---

Buddy turned as he heard the door click to see Ilona standing shyly against the closed door. A green and white gingham dress was her attire of choice. It ended right at her knees that sat pressed together timidly. Her eyes seemed to glance at him from time to time. “I-I’m ready.”

“Might I say, you look very cute!” Buddy’s voice carried a noticeable lilt to it despite it’s coarseness. “Please follow me. I’ll explain things on the way.”

Ilona walked behind Buddy as he lead her through the mansion. Her eyes took in the splendor of her surroundings. Part of her wondered if it was all a dream. Maybe she hadn’t woken up yet. There’s no way that she would ever have found herself in such a setting. Buddy stopped briefly in front of a large display case. It looked almost like a shrine. Framed photos and news clippings sat with golden trophies and awards. It all framed a pair of large boxing gloves that hung under a light like a sacred artifact.

“This belongs to the master of the house. Joseph Cross. He was once a well known boxer before World War II.”

Ilona rolled the name over in her mind. Where had she heard that name before?

“I feel like I may have heard the name in passing…” She admitted. Buddy chuckled.

“That sounds about right. He hasn’t really boxed professionally in years. Not since returning from the war.” Buddy continued walking with Ilona lingering behind. Her mind couldn’t help but feel something else was nagging at her about the name. Buddy continued to speak as he walked.

“Master Cross is an interesting man to be sure. He participates in various activities that people would find questionable. Make no mistake, he is a good man, if not a bit harsh at times…”

He stopped before a door and opened it. He led Ilona into a very well-equipped kitchen. It looked as if it belonged to a bustling restaurant rather than for feeding one very wealthy man. Two large fridges and freezers. Multiple stoves and ovens. Processors that Ilona had never even seen sat on the counters. In the corner, a quaint little breakfast nook sat. A large man sat lounged back and staring at a page of the morning paper. The table he sat at looked a bit too small for his stature.

Buddy cleared his throat and the man looked up. Eyes the color of steel sparkled at Ilona. “Our guest is awake! Good! Good to see ya doing better, kid!”

He stood and approached Buddy and Ilona. Ilona felt her neck crack a bit as she turned her head up to look at him. He gave Buddy a pat on the back. “Thanks, Buddy, I can take it from here.”

“Very good, sir.”

Buddy strode off into the kitchen as the man extended his hand to Ilona. “I’m Joseph Cross.”

Even though Ilona’s hands were much larger than they were before, they still felt small in his grip as she took his hand and shook it. “I’m—”

“Ilona Vincent. I know. I’ve know about you for a while actually.”

“What? How--?”

“Sit! Sit! We have business discuss!”

Ilona was gently ushered toward the small table. Cross pulled out a chair for her and Ilona sat dumbly. Her words were once again lost to the situation. Cross sat down across form her and propped his elbows up on the table.

“Now.” he began. “I’m not one to delay in getting down to brass tacks so I’ll get right into it. I need you to answer some questions for me. Can you do that?”

“I… think so?”

“Good.” Cross reached over to the unused the chair and produced a tattered looking box. Ilona tilted her head as he opened it and turned it toward her. Inside, a familiar brooch greeted her.

“Do you know what this is?”

Ilona reached toward it but then retracted her hand. Memories began to flood back. “Y-yeah! I delivered that last night. I was rushing and something jumped out in front of my bike. I ended up wiping out and hurting… my… self…?”

Ilona looked over her arms and hands. They showed no signs of injury. Not even a hint of scarring was there. Just fluffy black fur. Cross nodded.

“Okay, that makes sense then. The transformation would have healed everything.”

“Transformation?”

Cross closed the box and set it aside once more. He sighed heavily. “I’m going to be honest. I’m the one that ordered that brooch. I’m the one you’ve been doing a lot of these deliveries for actually. You’re quite the delivery biker. You’re one of my best employees.”

Ilona felt a hint of heat spread over her cheeks. “Thank you… I was just doing what I do best.”

“Unfortunately, it seems your role is about to change. You handled that brooch didn’t you?”

Ilona nodded. “I wanted to make sure it wasn't damaged in the accident.”

“Your blood got on it. That’s why you look the way you look now. You went through a very violent transformation last night. I’m actually surprised you’re up and about already.”

Buddy appeared and set plates down in front of Cross and Ilona. The smell of salty bacon and freshly cooked eggs flooded Ilona’s senses.

“Which means you are probably famished. Please eat—”

Before the words could finish leaving his mouth, Ilona growled. Her eyes shined white before her body jerked forward. Her tongue shot out and coiled around the food before pulling back into her mouth quick as lightning. She swallowed hard as her eyes dimmed. Her breath was ragged.

“What was that!?”

“Bacon and eggs.” Buddy answered, seemingly not phased by the sudden action. Ilona shook her head.

“No! I mean-- I never-- geez! Excuse me!”

Cross scoffed. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not entirely human anymore. You’re going to have some strange urges that you’re going to need to learn to control…”

Cross waved his hand and Buddy took the plate in front of Cross and sat it in front of Ilona. Once more, her body jerked and her eyes glowed, but her hands grabbed the table harshly. She spoke through clenched teeth.

“NO! Let… me… taste… it…” Her voice was a deep growl as her eyes slowly dimmed. She slowly relaxed as she picked up a fork and began to eat slowly. Cross and Buddy exchanged wide-eyed glances before Buddy went back and prepared another plate for Cross. Ilona’s face brightened as she took a bite. “This is delicious! You did this Mr. Buddy!?”

Buddy laughed as he returned with Cross’s plate. “Please, just Buddy. And yes. I’m glad you like it. Lots of practice taking Master Cross’s picky—”

“Buddy.”

“—Specialized diet into consideration all these years.”

“Speaking of…” Cross speared a large portion onto his fork. “You’re going to need a specialized diet as well.” He shoved it all into his mouth, cheeks bulging as he chewed. He swallowed quickly as if he couldn’t stand to wait to get the rest of his thought out. “Lots of protein, fat, carbs… a heavy diet to fuel you through your training.”

Ilona froze with food in her mouth still.

“Training?”

Cross nodded through another bite of food. He took the time to pause and finish chewing this time. “The plan was for me to take that power now bound to you, for myself. Unfortunately I can’t now. You’re going to have to learn to survive with your new existence. I can teach you. I know quite a bit about such things.”

Cross’s eyes flashed red and dimmed slowly. Ilona felt a slight chill go down her spine. He continued speaking. “I want to take you on as my apprentice. I will teach you everything that I know. In exchange, you will work more closely with me and my organization. Things will be expected of you that you may not agree with, but this is the price for your safety.”

Cross gestured to Ilona. “I’m sure you’ve realized by now that going out in public like that is not happening without a shitstorm running you over.”

Ilona looked down at herself. He was right. People wouldn’t take kindly seeing her as she was now just walking casually down the sidewalk. Her mind began to run rampant with all the terrible possibilities that could happen. What would Pecha and Everett think?

Pecha and Everett…

“We can start your training immediately after we finish breakfast. You’re going to have to stay here until we can figure out a way to disguise those new features of yours.”

“I CAN’T!” Ilona stood up suddenly knocking her chair backward. Cross stared at her wide-eyed, almost shifting to anger.

“You can’t…?”

“No! I mean! Ugh!” Ilona scratched at her horns. “I need to be somewhere! I promised I’d show up! If I don’t show up, my friends are going to be very upset with me!”

“They’ll get over it.”

“NO! They won’t! They’re dogged! If I don’t show up, they’ll go looking for me! I’m pretty sure if they go to my apartment and see me not there, police are getting involved!”

Cross dropped his fork on the plate and rubbed his face. Buddy looked to him. “We don’t need anymore attention from the police, Joe.”

"I’m aware, Buddy.” Cross growled behind his hand. He sighed heavily before glaring at Ilona. Ilona stood before him like a scared colt, ready to flee at the slightest provocation. His eyes flared to life with a red blaze.

“Fine. Time for a crash course then...”

[crumplstiltskin]

medifan dump p1

[dusty-pistol]

Here's yalls husband

And his theme song/hj

And here's the non shaded version of one so yall can have somethin easy to color pick

[thana-topsy]

Just thinkin bout them

Aiden & Harukar

[404-art-found]

I have to draw buddy and its crew every day or else I start turning into the joker

(second image is seven and buddy, respectively)

[secondary-colorentimy]

DONT write ghouls.. >:|

[oddrobyn]

Pen no!!!!!!!!!!