#I assume many of them are one-eyed but this one was sitting on a pole directly in my line of sight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 3 years ago

Text

Male Tiefling Burlesque Dancer (Sol) Part 2

Support me on Ko-fi!~ - Patreon

Forgive the grammar mistakes, my laptop has gone into service.

Warning: Some mild language. Long chapter ahead!!

Part 1

Words: 3k words

Relationship: Male (nonbinary) monster x Asexual Female Reader (Modern AU)

Bourbon High Part 2

The Siren's Rouse was a dreadful yet familiar place for you, its flashing lights a luring illusion in oddly steadily your beating heart; streetlights dimly lighting the darkened parts of the bustling nightlife.

You told yourself you wouldn't be back: that this place would only bring back embarrassment, but now handing over your ID to the bouncer as he let you through, past the cladded red rope, brought the familiar chills you once felt when you first entered with unfamiliarity.

It could've been foolish by anyone: seeing a lonely girl underdressed simply at a strip club, anyone could see that it was as if you were looking for something- asking for trouble to come your way- but as much as that struck fear in your mind and heart, you could only hope that the person you were looking for was there this night.

The floors were littered with people of all races: humans and monsters, all giving you strange looks; some more obvious than others, hands lingering as if ready to snatch you up to dance with, others keeping their hands as far away from you as possible.

You only kept your head down low, following the small path to what you hoped led you to the remote bar, stationed with only one bartender, eying you carefully up and down.

"A water please."

He nodded as if he shifted into a different mode of control, effortlessly pulling on tap a glass of water and resuming to cleaning the cups, letting you imagine if you had been there all along and he had just handed a free cup to no one.

You took your glass and said your timid thanks, but you doubted he had heard over the blasting of music, thrumming loudly in your ribcage and spilling out the swears that came from the lyrics, dancers already in their places on the poles and some on their stages. Still, no sign of him.

"I think I remember you from last time?" A warm hand was placed around your shoulder, making you flinch as you pulled yourself to look into the familiar warm lavender eyes of someone you briefly recalled.

You stepped back in surprise by the bright appearance of the woman, her silver locks pulled elegantly into a low bun, a few strands framing her slim face, the same red silk ribbon around her neck and dressed in the low-slung pale fur coat, a welcoming smile curving to meet her eyes.

"Madame Opal?" Her name was like caffeine on the tip of your tongue, slipping out when you remembered her most famous name.

"The one and only!" She laughed warmly and smoothly, like smooth whisky being poured into a tall glass. "I didn't forget the special birthday girl." She gave you a wink. "How was your evening with Iris Nova?"

That name, a name you never wanted to forget. It brought your heart to stammer like an outdated record player, the smile from your face dropping, cheeks rouged even in the low light. The Madame seemed to smirk at the change in your demeanour, pulling you easily to sit at in a booth in a secluded area.

"What brings you here? Your friends had other places to be?"

"I wanted to come alone tonight. Thought I would try and be brave for once."

Madame Opal smiled at that, "Brave girl indeed. I don't think I know many who would have the balls to come here alone. Still, shame on your friends for not escorting you. They seemed a bit... inane."

That was certainly one word to call them. You sipped on your drink lightly, mind wishing it had been alcohol to subdue your senses and judgement, but you needed to be sober to see him.

"But as I said, there are always ways to develop into a better person. Your courage is certainly of note." Her long nails tapped in tune to the deep-bass song, eyes drifting to whoever was on stage before glancing slowly, languidly, back to meet your gaze.

"I'm assuming you're wanting to see him again, hmm?"

Her assumptions were startling, bringing a rush of heat that spread through from your face to your chest, spreading like wildfire, suffocatingly tight. It was like she had looked right through to you, seeking so easily something you didn't even think you knew yourself.

You choked on your own words. "That... I-- perhaps."

"Ah, Iris does have this way of luring people back to him, it's a gift he has so well in using." Oh. That was what stung, you had to be reminded, he was performing not just for you, but for others, using this as a professional job and not picking favourites. "That being said, I can happily book a room for the two of you backstage. I would just have to ask him-"

"No, not like that!" You spluttered, hands rattling the table as you startled the both of you. "I mean... just seeing him if he has a break would be nice. Nothing too long."

Madame Opal didn't seem to answer at first, but her eyes did all the talking. A thick, horrible tension that you wished could suffocate and swallow you whole. She finally smirked, lifting her fingers to rest against her cheek. "As you wish. I'll see that he is free for the rest of the night."

"That-- it's not necessary-"

"Dearest, sometimes in life, we cannot help but be lured by such sweet things." She touched your hand, warmth never seeming to put you to ease. "Make sure you have a good, safe evening."

You didn't respond to her words as she wordlessly stood back up tall, "I hope to see you around, we have some good numbers out this evening. The dancers await their crowd." And walked away, seemingly disappearing through the crowds regardless of her height.

You sat still in your lonely booth, recollecting her words, the only ones coming to mind were loudly spoken in time with those cheering to the next song coming on. "What the fuck."

You made it eventually to the middle of the stage with some effort other others shoving past you, others not hearing your pardons to squeeze past, and by the time you got to where the main stage had been, the exhaustion of movement had rendered you slow and lethargic.

You found your way to find somewhere to sit, a barstool and high table just in almost reach of the stage, not thinking much of whether there were any cons to the practical front row seat, you settled your sore feet with others surrounding to get to their tables.

There, the music quieted as Madame Opal appeared from backstage, walking elegantly across as if her long legs were making her glide effortlessly. She appeared to of had an outfit change: the silver glittery dress was floor-length, allowing her to appear graceful as she traversed the stage.

The roar was deafening from the crowd, all cheering for what they knew was to happen next.

"Ladies and gentlemen, are you having a good time tonight?" Madame gave her usual words as the crowd roared louder with excitement, your heart pounding with the deep reverberation.

"I bring back to the stage one of your favourites, both on stage and in private." As if she was scouting the many faces of the large room, she found your face with ease, the microphone doing little to hide the smirk on her face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me the greatest pleasure to welcome to this stage, your Iris Nova."

When the cheer settled, the curtains opened and appeared thick grey smoke, taking over the entire stage, billowing to the floor surrounding, the lights settling to pinks and reds. In the middle of the stage, the silhouette of the man you remembered so fondly was situated in a chair, posed with his body nearly hanging off of it, long legs poised up in the air and resting against the back of it. The performance hadn't even begun and the sounds of joy were thunderous, and even you cheered shyly in anticipation.

When the lights came up to the stage, the tiefling was dressed in similar clothes from his last performance: slender legs dressed in fishnet tights and black stiletto pumps. He was dressed in what you could only describe was the theme of Halloween sorority party, the short shorts were not doing much to the imagination, leaving most of his cheeks on display in what could've been a thong, the police uniform was ripped and tight around his chest, a few buttons were undone to show most of his lavender skin.

Immediately upon seeing his outfit change, the familiar feeling started to spread across your body, hot and unyielding. Your eyes never left the stage.

The tiefling smirked cheekily to the audience, pulling playfully something from his pocket as he stalked the stage, swinging the handcuffs with controlled grace.

His eyes were everywhere and anywhere, scouting someone you could only think was going to be his 'assistant', before his figure was just in front of you, eyes lifting and batting his heavy eyelashes at you.

It was as if time itself at froze to a complete standstill, music and people have forgotten about as you swore his eyebrows lifted with what you could describe as a surprise to see you there, before the usual sly smile appeared back on his handsome face, beckoning a finger to you, winking your way.

Oh, fuck.

You looked around you to make sure he wasn't pointing to someone else, pointing shamelessly at yourself. Yes, you. His eyes could've eaten you whole, grinning with white teeth, as you shakily and slowly got up from your table, making your way to the bottom of the stage, a sea of jealous eyes letting you through where he awaited for you.

You were taken into his arms easily as the crowd still cheered for what was coming next, as Sol smiled down at you, leaning over to your ear. "I didn't think I would see you again." His words were hushed and low in your ear, setting shivers down your spine as he led you to the same chair he sat at, the music helping in some ways as you familiarised yourself with the lyrics.

Once sat down, Sol danced around you, holding the handcuffs up as you looked anywhere but the crowd. You thanked anything for Cato and Luken not being there with you, they would've certainly had been recording this event going down.

Sol circled once more, leaning into your ear as he prepared something behind you. "You trust me right?"

You nodded with some nerves bubbling in your throat, not once sure when you would answer him properly. He hummed into your hair, the sound so airy and light, like wind carrying leaves so carefully.

"Good, you sit pretty for me and keep those arms behind the chair. I'll do the rest." With a click, the handcuffs were gone from his grasp, but there was no restriction around your wrists.

Sol moved around again as the crowd cheered with his following moves, handing touching at you but not at the same time, his hands never travelling across areas of your skin in some sort of illusion, but even so, the crowd didn't seem to see these changes, cheering and bellowing at what looked from their angle him gyrating on you. Your facial expressions and blush were helping tenfold for the fakery, clapping and eating everything up like they were at the best buffet.

And certainly, the angles so up close of him in front of you were making you feel many different emotions, certainly wanting to just bury your face into your hands, but you knew to keep your hands; gripping the chair tightly.

Sol leapt like a cat into your lap, his full weight not on you as he continued to 'gyrate' on you, and this closeness indeed made you want to stop everything and lean up and kiss his pretty lips again.

The tiefling's hands glided down the back of the chair, hovering behind your arms as he flipped his purple-blue hair around majestically, allowing the crowd's noises to boost his ego, smiling down at you. If anything, it helped to make you feel ever-so special, only you and him and no one else mattered.

By the end of his dancing, he had situated you once more to have him in front of you, doing a cartwheel into the splits to end his show, the crowd going wild with an uproar of voices that all blurred into one.

Sol pretended to unclasp the handcuffs from you when he stood back up, helping you down from the stage as he was nearly swarmed by others. "I'll find you at the bar." He promised before many women tried gaining his attention, circling him until he was barely there insight.

The evening had calmed down by the end of the show, with fewer people around and fewer dancers, some had passed in couples hand in hand, others more obvious they were going for an evening of pleasure, all genders.

It made you wonder whether some of those at Iris' show had asked for a night with him, or had he been aware he was given the rest of the evening off. Either way, you could only hope he was in the loop of what was happening and not lying to you in his promises-

"There you are, darling." You spun in your chair, expecting to see Iris, more dazed to see Sol, dressed simply and almost unrecognisable. He was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, and high boots with a slight heel, hair tied up into a long ponytail.

"Oh," you couldn't find the right words.

"What? Expecting the feather boa and glitter?" He laughed melodically, taking a seat beside you and ordering, "A pink gin, please," to the same bartender. You had ordered a diet coke this time, stirring the rim with nerves as a sudden hand came to connect with yours, lifting to kiss your bare knuckles. "My, you look beautiful tonight."

"I could say the same about you," you smiled easily, allowing the nerves to ease. "Were the handcuffs your idea?"

His laugh was beautiful like him, carefree yet soft, "Hardly, Madame likes to think of all the ideas before we even have a chance of pitching something." He got his drink and lifted it to his lips, hovering before taking a sip. "Speaking of which, she told me you were wanting to see me."

The laughter bubbled over nervously, "Is that bad of customers?"

"No, not at all, I've had plenty of crazy requests." The drink was fizzy when he took a long sip, humming, golden eyes closed in silent appreciation, allowing you to marvel at him quietly. When he pulled back and put his glass down, there to be some more life in him, the smile returning, eyes soft and calm.

"So, where to first?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you have me for the rest of the evening, I don't suppose you want to get out of here and go somewhere a bit less... shady."

You could only think of one place, somewhere your friends deemed fun but you always wanted to go somewhere less lively. "I think I know a place."

"Have you been here before?"

Sol blinked, trying to register what you had said over the blasting of House music, your body flushed against his as the two of you would have to whisper-shout to one another for the other to hear. It helped nicely that he smelled amazing: of expensive perfume and oranges, a smell you would never get tired of.

"Once, I think." His body swayed in time to the upbeat music as if tipsy, his hand never seeming to let go of yours. "But that was before getting a job at the Rouse. I was a bit of a party animal back in my day."

"Oh?" You awkwardly shuffled next to him, trying to keep in time to the music, concentrating hard on his words, his warm hand holding your own and ignoring the strong stench of alcohol and vomit.

"I like to think I'm a bit tamer." He gave a silent laugh, getting into the rhythm of the song than you. "What made you get a job at the Rouse then?"

Pausing, as if outweighing his options, mouth numb and opening and shutting, he seemed to still for a moment. Just before he opened his mouth to speak, the crowd surrounding you both enclosed with the ruckus, more people getting up to dance from their seats.

Sol looked to you almost nervously, smiling shyly. "Wanna keep dancing?"

You nodded hesitantly, looking to the crowded floor of other dancing feet. "I can't dance very good if you can tell."

"Oh, I'll help you, if you want?" You nodded, finally watching how the tiefling pulled you ever so close to him, his long hair tickling the side of your face, feeling a hand slip around your waist.

"You make it look so easy." You marvelled at how he was able to get into the beat, slowly helping you get the timing of the fast song.

"Years of practice, darling. Here," he pulled you away arm's length before he spun you into the back of his chest, feeling the steady lull of his heart making you feel safe. Just before he continued, the hold around you grew weak. "Is this... okay? I know you don't-"

"No, this is fine." You pulled him back to holding your waist, and slowly, following his moves, begun allowing him to swing your hips in time to the song.

What if I just hold on for a while

Baby, there's no drug quite like denial

Oh, my

If this is goodbye

"There you go, you're getting the hang of it, sweet girl." He hummed into your ear, breathy and fruity to listen to, as you closed your eyes, allowing more of the music and his hands to take over. He never strayed from moving his hands any higher or lower, sticking to just where they were, holding your hips.

When the chorus finally grew, Sol pulled you to whisper, "Ready?"

"Yes."

Don't leave me, loving you

Whatever you do

He suddenly pulled you back round to face him, legs almost entangled around one another, dancing as if both trying to bewitch the other. You concentrated on him and only him, trying to ignore the feeling of being embarrassed when he had you around his little finger.

His golden eyes were on you and only you, never drifting to the other sweaty warm bodies on the dancefloor, only keeping his eyes on you as he leant his forehead against yours.

Don't leave me, loving you

If you tip toe out in the morning, I need a warning

His lips were so close to yours, whispering encouraging words of how amazing you were doing, all hushed and muffled to the music, but you knew somehow what he was saying. You couldn't control your movements to stop yourself from doing what you wanted to do, surprising him by leaning up to kiss him, shyly yet full of longing.

Sol stiffened for a moment before he kissed you back, holding the side of your face as he guided you both through song and kiss, ignoring all as the two of you pulled away, a dazed yet soft look that was evident in his features; yearning.

The two of you had pulled away from the dancing to go sit down and cool off, sitting in his lap as he pressed soft kisses into your neck, slowly coming back round to focusing on one another.

"Would I be greedy if I said that I was waiting a long time for that?" You finally brought the courage to tell him. Sol lifted your chin to meet his gaze, heated and gold eyes pooling with adoration. "Would I be a copycat if I said the same?"

"You did too?"

"I see no lust, not like those who ask for my time. Nor wanting to waste it with money, pleasure, and dolling me up. I can be myself when I'm around you."

"I can be too," you whispered, resting your cheek against his broad shoulder, as he kissed your forehead carefully. "Hey, Sol?"

"Hmm?"

"Would Madame be okay with you getting me home safely?"

The tiefling chuckled warmly and smoothly, holding you close. "She wouldn't have to know, dearest. She's not here."

"That's true." You leant up to him, lips pouting as he tried gauging what you wanted from him. When it finally clicked, the tiefling gave a genuine smile, teeth pointy and white. "My, are you wanting another kiss? How greedy of you." But he still allowed for his to meet yours ever-so sweetly.

Light poured through the space of the curtains, spilling through the early morning across your face, as you rolled to escape its sharp rays. Morning, and no recollection of what had happened after the club.

No, you did remember some, how Sol took you back home, but you had been indeed too greedy, and the pleading for him to stay the night had turned into a yes. All you remembered was kissing, heated kisses, and the softness of your bed, before nothing.

You rolled back over, groggily sitting up with pain to your head, aware you in your PJs and not nude, finding the other warm body beside you, exposed back facing you and long beautiful hair fell over the pillow.

You looked up closely at Sol's sleeping features: the calmness in his closed eyes and face, how his breathing was relaxed and steady. You touched gently up his back to not startle him awake, but the tiefling rolled over to face you, peeping one eye open to greet you.

"Mornin'." His voice was laced heavily with sleep but still so soft and luring.

"Morning," you eyed him up carefully, wringing your fingers with slight jitteriness. "We -- uh didn't, you know,"

"No, as I said darling, I know of a thing called consent." He kissed your shoulder, finally revealing that he was indeed, not naked. You could finally relax beside him, allowing him to cuddle into you, slowly letting the morning hours pass with tranquillity.

97 notes · View notes

hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 years ago

Text

Spiderbug Siblings

Peter sighed to himself struggling not to pout as he sat through the meeting. He was continuously reminding himself that he was the one that begged his father to bring him along, but he didn't think it was going to be this boring. Usually he was more than happy to take over different things at SI to give his father a break, such as paper work and meetings his dad really-really didn't want to go to. However this meeting had sucked his soul out ten minutes in. He missed the glances he was getting from said father, who had noticed his son's complete and utter boredom.

Tony struggled not to smirk as his son deflated. He had warned him that this meeting was the worst one he'd ever been to. Tony discreetly moved his hands under the table, flicking his right wrist causing a holographic keyboard to appear on his forearm. He quickly typed out a message before sending it to Peter.

Peter's wristwatch vibrated softly, alerting him to the message. He moved his left arm under the table before flicking it allowing the message to appear across his arm.

'Kiddo, go ahead and stand up saying this in french. "Ladies, Gentlemen, I hate to cut this short but unfortunately I have another meeting to get to. My father however will be remaining behind, I sincerely hope our business deal goes through." Then go have some fun, I know you're dying inside right now so go.'

Peter closed his eyes smiling softly before giving his father a barely noticeable nod, standing up and apologizing in French. He shook a few people's hands before giving them a bright smile and a nod to his dad, turning and leaving the room.

"Je me suis demandé quand il allait enfin s'ennuyer.(1)" One of the women said, turning to Tony with a teasing smile, causing him to burst into laughter.

Peter was more than happy to strip out of the suit and into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt with a silly science meme, his black converse and a green hoodie. He had planned to go check out the young man that applied to MIT and the Stark Industries Internship Program after the meeting, however he thought now would be better than ever. Peter knew that after a quick talk with the Principal he'd be allowed to sit in on the class in the back unannounced to see Max Kanté in action. He ran a hand through his hair before checking his phone's battery life, satisfied that it was at seventy-eight percent. His Stark watch was at sixty-five percent as well, so he knew that he'd only have to charge them once he got back to Le Grand Paris. Pulling out the file on Max, he decided that walking to Lycée Françoise Dupont would be rather relaxing and give him the time to stretch his legs. Plus if his calculations were right, which they usually always were, he'd be there by lunch time. Giving him enough time to talk with the Principal and the man's teacher, then find a place to sit in the back. While leaving the luxury hotel he put on his Edith sunglasses watching as directions to the school popped up, then pulled his hood up, and placed his Stark buds in. He left giving little more than a glance to the paparazzi planted firm outside, he knew they'd be waiting to get pictures of his father or him, after all their pictures sold for big bucks. He fidgeted nervously with his sunglasses until he was finally out of the paparazzi's sight. Letting out a breath he took out his phone hitting play on his album filled with Ella Fitzgerald music. He relaxed listening to it allowing the glasses to guide him through Paris. 'I really need to convince dad to market these. After the failure that Google created people would be skeptical, but having the Stark logo on it would cause many to trust them.' Peter thought about it drawing up blueprints in his head as he walked not paying attention to the outside world. Definitely not noticing the car heading towards him as he crossed the street heading to the school, until his senses started screaming at him.

"Monsieur, soyez prudent!(2)" Marinette cried out as she ran towards Peter tackling him back onto the sidewalk, his hood dropping and his sunglasses flying off his face. The car honked loudly as it skidded to a stop. Both teens turned to it wide eyed and apologizing profusely, in near panic attack states which ended up with the driver worried for them. They waved him on both stating that they were fine and just in a little bit of shock as they sat side by side on the sidewalk.

"Thank you." Peter said after a few moments of them just taking deep breaths together. Marinette looked up at him, blue-grey eyes meeting toffee brown eyes, before she glanced away. She picked up his sunglasses holding them out to him with a tired smile.

"English, yes? You're quite far from home are you not Mister? After all your accent is clearly not British so I'm assuming the States, not the south though I'm thinking from the north maybe the east?" Peter blinked in surprise, finally taking in the young woman that had saved him. Marinette was side sitting leaning against the light pole next to her. Midnight black hair was pulled into a long fishtail braid that went past her waist, Peter knew that once out of the braid her hair would be even longer. Her clothes were designer, M.D. specifically, something that would cause his dad slight annoyance since the designer still hadn't gotten back to him. She wore a soft pink cold shoulder tunic sweater, with black jeans that were loose enough for full mobility but tight enough not to sag or get caught on anything. She had a black and pink backpack on and a small matching purse, both clearly made by M.D. as well. He smiled politely, taking his sunglasses back and carefully sliding them into his pocket.

"Yes I'm from the States. New York to be specific but I've traveled all over. You speak English?" He asked before adjusting his position sitting criss-cross in front of her. Marinette laughed softly nodding.

"I have learned a few languages, French is obviously my first, English was my fourth and hardest to learn!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes and throwing her arms up in exasperation. Peter laughed loudly nodding his head with a slight smirk.

"Ah yes, English is hard and weird. For instance read and lead rhyme, and read and lead rhyme. But read and lead don't rhyme, and neither do read and lead!" Peter said his smirk grew when Marinette groaned glaring at him before punching him softly in the arm. "Sorry, sorry I had to do it." Peter said rubbing his arm as they settled down. Marinette simply rolled her eyes shaking her head. "But seriously thank you, not many people would risk themselves to save another. You're amazing Miss." Marinette gave him a sad smile not meeting his eyes anymore.

"Well, I'm afraid not many people think that about me. Besides it was the right thing to do, I couldn't just let you get hit when I could do something." Suddenly her purse shifted slightly almost like something inside was moving to press closer to the girl. Peter just barely noticed it, but could tell the girl took note of it right away. She stood up brushing the dirt off her pants, and Peter followed her up. "I'm afraid I must go, we've already spent quite a bit of time sitting here and if I want something to eat before my next class I must go. Au revoir Monsieur." Marinette turned heading down the street to a cafe, Peter turned watching her go but not moving.

"Wait!" He called out quickly shocking himself and the girl as she turned around curiously. "What's your name?" He asked, blinking when a mischievous smile covered the girls face.

"My name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, and I'll see you around." Peter's eyes widened and a burst of laughter left him causing the girls eyes to alight with mischief. "I'll see you around Monsieur." She said before continuing on, Peter watching her as she leaves. He resisted jumping when Karen talked to him over his Stark buds.

"That was a meme was it not? Searching the web for it, oh. I understand that, that was very funny, yes? After all I believe this is what one would call a 'crack' fic." Peter held back his laughter as he crossed the street continuing to the school. He really hoped he'd see the girl again, he knew his dad would love her. He himself already felt a connection to the girl that had saved his life. He walked into the school heading to the office. He greeted the office secretary explaining why he was there and asking to talk with the Principal Damocles and Mr. Kanté's teacher Ms. Bustier. The secretary was quick to let him in and summon Bustier to the office. Peter took the time to explain to Principal Damocles that he simply wished to sit in the back of the class and observe the young man. Damocles was quick to please Peter, and it didn't escape his notice causing his opinion of the Principal to drop. He was quick to introduce himself when Bustier arrived, but allowed Damocles to explain what was going on. Ms. Bustier quickly agreed before escorting Peter back to her class room, telling him all about her class. He barely paid attention however once he realized that she was attempting to take complete credit for her students accomplishments. That was until she mentioned her 'bad egg' at least in her opinion.

"I just don't know what happened, Marinette used to be such a good student. She was the class role model, and everyone would go to her when they needed help. Then out of nowhere she just started bullying this girl that joined my class! She told me the girl was faking everything no matter how much I told her that the girl's condition was no excuse to treat her like that. I kept trying to get her on the right path but couldn't. Now she just sits in the back of the class and no one will talk to her. I've even had to exclude her from class outings because she still won't leave the girl alone! Honestly I always told her that no one will get better if you don't give them chances. Lila won't become a better person if Marinette continues to target and try to expose her. I'm just glad that Adrien is on my side and agrees." Peter frowned, giving the teacher's back a dirty look as he took in what she said, piecing a few things together. 'So this student is a pathological liar, but they're covering for her with some lying condition. Marinette, who was the designated role model, caught on and tried to expose her. However, Bustier and Adrien don't agree so they allow her to be excluded. Wow, I really hope Mr. Kanté does not fall for the lies. I'd hate for his intelligence to go to waste. After all not everyone can create a highly-functional robot, that manages to develop emotions on its own. Falling for lies is something that would hurt him incredibly in the eyes of SI.' Peter smiled politely when the teacher turned to him once they arrived at the door.

"Would you like a seat at the front Mr. Stark?" Bustier asked as she opened the door walking in with him behind her, Peter shook his head as he took in the room. "We only have two seats open one in the front and one in the back." Bustier finished turning and watching Peter look around the room.

"No," he said, not missing as she tensed up slightly. "I need to be able to observe Mr. Kanté. If I sit in the front everyone will notice me turned to look at him. I'll take the back seat, where does he sit now?" Bustier glanced at the spot at the front where Chloe Bourgeois used to sit, and then the one in back by Marinette.

"Are you sure Mr. Stark? Unfortunately the one in the back is by my problem student and I'd rather you not get a bad impression of the class because of her." Peter gave her a tight smile as she rambled on about why it would be better for him to sit in the front. He let out a sigh as she continued on, and wished his father was with him. Knowing Tony wouldn't care about being rude to the women, where Peter himself couldn't pull the courage up.

"Yes Ms. Bustier I am positive. I will take the seat in the back, now please tell me where Mr. Kanté sits and then where my seat will be." Bustier sighed knowing that she wouldn't win this one, she had hoped she could convince him to sit there. That way he could see the entirety of the class and they would see him, the class would also know to behave themselves. They won't pay much attention to him when they walk in and he is sitting in the back.

"Very well, Max sits on the left side, third row and closest to the window. Your seat will be on the right side, last row and next to the wall. Peter nodded before thanking her and walking up to his temporary seat, sitting down and pulling out his phone. "Lunch ends in twenty minutes so the classroom will slowly start filling up." He gave her a smile showing that he heard her before returning to his phone. He pulled up his group chat with Shuri, MJ, and Ned, knowing that it was almost seven am in New York, and that Shuri only slept when forced to. He smiled reading the argument between Ned and MJ.

Guy in the Chair- I don't want to eat at Veselka after school today! I want to eat at Lil' Frankie's!

MJ- I can almost hear you whining through my phone screen. Send me a picture of the face you're making, I want to add it to my sketch book.

Guy in the Chair- Seriously MJ?

Guy in the Chair- I'm not sending you a picture of my face.

Princess Memes a lot- You Americans are so silly. Here MJ.

Image.pn

Guy in the Chair-...

Guy in the Chair- Seriously?

Guy in the Chair- Did you seriously hack my phone to send her a picture of me?

Princess Memes a lot- Hack is such a strong word, I simply introduced my computer to your phone's systems.

Guy in the Chair- I hate this. I can't do anything in retaliation, chemistry is what I'm good at not technology. I can't get revenge. Peter help me bro!

Peter-man- Sorry Ned, I'm not going up against Shuri. She is scary smart, and I'd rather live to see Captain America and his group of runaways finally realize all the changes we've made to the Accords.

Princess Memes a lot- Listen to my favorite colonizer Nedy-boy.

Peter-man- Awe, I'm your favorite colonizer? I thought for sure it would be my Dad.

Princess Memes a lot- Oh no, I do love you father. You and him are some of the only people that can give me a challenge. On top of that he got so excited when he discovered I was smarter than him, I thought for sure he'd want to adopt me.

Peter-man- Oh dad did, however you're a Princess and dad knows his money would get him nowhere in Wakanda. Instead he has settled for us being friends, that way he can subtly drop hints to invite you over for some science time.

Peter-man- I'll talk with you all later have a good day in classes MJ, Ned. And Shuri please get some sleep, I'd rather your brother not blame us for keeping you up again.

Guy in the Chair- Bye Peter!

MJ-middle finger emoji*

Princess Memes a lot- He can't force me to sleep if he can't find me!!

Peter- Love you too MJ and good luck with that Shuri.

Peter placed his phone down as people slowly made their way into the classroom. It was obvious to him that none even noticed him as they talked together excitedly. The volume of the class got louder until four people walked in, everyone was zeroing in on the girl hanging off the blonde's arm. Peter grimaced at her terrible hair style and decided that MJ would love to draw this girl, so he held up his phone taking a picture of her. He noticed a girl slip in behind them but his attention was stolen by the girl once again as she continued her story.

"Oh Alya! You would absolutely love New York city!! I'll have to see if Tony will allow you to come with me next time!" The girl said fairly loud her smile was bright but Peter could spot a fake smile from miles away. He'd learned that skill rather fast as he grew up, after all he needed to when his father was in one of his spirals. "Oh! I suppose I should let you know since I trust you so much! By Tony I mean Tony Stark!" She said giggling behind her hand as everyone gasped in surprise. "You see he is like a father to me! Him and his son Parker love me! We're like this!" She crossed her fingers winking at her classmates. Peter tensed fisting his hands trying to control his anger as he looked at Ms. Bustier who wouldn't not even turn around when the lie left her students lips. He watched as the students all sat down in their seats but they were all turned to the liar listening intensely.

"Wow you're that close to Tony Stark? I just applied for his internship program a few weeks ago, I haven't heard anything yet though." Max said excitedly as he pulled out his things for class. Lila immediately zeroed in on him, her eyes gleaming.

"Oh Max! I'll send Parker a message right away and tell him all about you! You know he runs the Internship Program there! Tony asked me to but I told him I just couldn't leave Paris for good until after school! I also told him he really needs to give Parker a chance!" She glanced around worriedly before turning to Alya. "You can post this if you want, but you didn't hear it from me okay? You see guys Parker had a rough time these past couple years. He fell into the wrong group of people and started bullying, drinking, and doing drugs! It was terrible and Tony was just heartbroken! I could barely console him, he almost kicked Parker out! I convinced him to give Parker a second chance though, and he is getting better, unlike someone we know...but Tony still doesn't trust him fully, so I thought Parker would be able to prove himself if he did good with the program. Unfortunately he does struggle so I have to help him a lot, but Tony cannot know that! Their relationship is finally fixing!" Peter's anger grew even more and it took all his control not to stand up and fight the girl right there. That is when he noticed Marinette sitting besides him tense as well but glaring at the desk and not Lila. "Well hello there Ebony." He said softly startling her slightly, Marinette looked up at him in slight shock as he smiled mischievously at her. "I must say, you look very different from the Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way that I've read about." Marinette blushed embarrassed before she let out a soft giggle covering her face with her hands.

"Oh my gooood," she said, dragging out the word. "I said that thinking I would probably never see you again, and now you're sitting next to me. God I don't know if you're there, but please kill me." Peter snorted softly but both of their eyes were on Lila again as she began talking about Tony and his son 'Parker' once again.

"Lying little squirrel." Peter mumbled glaring at the girl. "Parker Stark? Really did she even do her research? It's Peter Stark and the fact that Kanté is falling for her lies and trying to get in the easy way. This makes my decision easier." He opened the folder turning to Marinette holding out a hand. "May I borrow a pen Ms. Ebony." Marinette snorted, shaking her head and handing him a pen. He wrote denied across the paper and took a picture with his phone sending it to his dad before closing the folder and returning her pen.

"My name isn't Ebony obviously, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She said politely holding her hand out to shake, he shook it gently as she spoke again. "Are you a new student?" Peter chuckled smiling a little awkwardly as he shook his head.

"No I was here to observe Mr. Kanté in the classroom, ah let me introduce myself. Peter Stark, or from what the liar is calling me, Parker Stark." He rolled his eyes in exasperation, his smile still awkward. Marinette's eyes widened in slight shock as she started rambling to herself about how she tackled Tony Stark's son to the ground. Peter watched for a moment slightly amused at the woman's ramblings before squeezing her hand gently. "Listen, don't worry about it. If anything my dad would be thanking you profusely for saving me there. He wouldn't be upset, however once he hears about that little squirrel's lies. He will be more than pissed." Marinette snorted softly at his nickname for Lila; shel smirked, shaking her head. "Which by the way, can I get her full name? I want to have my lawyers here and ready with paperwork before I return to the states in five days." Her smirk grew as she pulled out a notebook and quickly wrote Lila's full name down before pausing and thinking a sadistic gleam in her eyes. Marinette turned to Peter tilting her head to the side innocently. "Tell me Parker Stark," she said using Lila's mess up causing him to laugh under his breath. "Do you happen to know Bruce Wayne or his kids?" Peter quirked an eyebrow before nodding and telling her that he was very close with Bruce's eldest son. "Well you see the little squirrel, as you call her has also lied about him and a few others." She turned back to the paper steadily making a list of all the people.

Tony and Peter Stark

The Wayne family

Lois Lane and Clark Kent

Jagged Stone

Clara Nightingale

The Justice League

The Avengers

M.D. Clothing

The sadistic glint didn't leave her eyes as a plan formed in her head. "You see, I can get in contact with Jagged, Clara, and M.D. if you can get a hold of the others. We could sue her all at once for slander and defamation of character. If you do this I'll convince M.D. to finally take your dad on as clientele." Peter grinned at her and held out his hand, shaking hers once she grabbed his.

"Well, my father would strangle me if I passed on an opportunity for him to finally get a M.D. suit and dress combo for him and mom. So you've got yourself a deal Miss Dupain-Cheng. If you can get Jagged, Clara, and M.D. on video chat, I can get the others. Do you think you could meet dad and me at Le Grand Paris tonight?" Marinette smirked a twinkle in her eye as Bustier called for the class's attention. Marinette rolled her, before turning to the front of the class.

"Since I am currently living at Le Grand Paris I can definitely meet you. Oh, Jagged and M.D. will be there in person. They live in Paris, Clara however is currently in Africa helping build houses, so we may be able to get her on a phone call but not video chat." Peter slumped in the chair and leaned over towards her slightly. "How about I give you a ride back then since we'll be going to the same place?" Marinette quirked an eyebrow before smiling and leaning against him getting comfortable in her seat.

"Very well Parker, I'll tell my driver I have a ride. Now don't move, you're quite comfortable." Peter snorted softly nodding before turning his eyes back on Max.

'It's a shame I was rather hopeful about him. I thought he'd be a great addition, if only he hadn't fallen for the squirrel.' He turned his gaze away and zeroed in on Bustier who was looking up at them. He could already tell that she wanted to reprimand Marinette for leaning against him. As she opened her mouth Peter sent her a sharp glare, staring her down until she looked away nervously. He sighed looking out the window in annoyance.

'Great, now I'm stuck here. At least I have Mari to keep me entertained judging by her eyes she is clearly zoned out. Something tells me she already knows what this sham of a teacher is going to be teaching today. She is smart, that is obvious, perhaps not as smart as Dad and me. Definitely not as smart as Shuri, but I'm pretty sure no one has her intelligence. She has connections too which is surprising at her age while being relatively unknown.' Peter wiggled slightly before settling down leaning against Marinette as well before closing his eyes.

Marinette waited until everyone had filed out of the class before waking Peter up. She gently shook him snorting as he looked around in confusion. His eyes finally landed on Marinette and a warm smile covered his face. She snorted again, as she packed up her stuff.

"Maybe you should call up your driver that way we won't wait for long." Marinette said, pulling her backpack on as Peter sent out a quick message.

"Mr. Stark, before you go! I'd like to talk with you about what my student Lila said." Bustier said at the front of the classroom, flinching when Peter glared at her.

"Oh, you mean how she decided to lie about my father and me. Or maybe about how she didn't even know my name, but decided to tell everyone that I was a bullying, drunk, drug addict? Is that what you want to talk about? Or do you want to talk about how throughout her entire speech you said nothing knowing damn well that I was sitting in the back." Peter walked down the stairs, Marinette following behind him. When Bustier stepped in front of Peter stopping him from leaving Marinette grabbed his upper arm squeezing it gently.

"Mr. Stark Lila has a condition that causes her to lie. The Principal and I decided not to inform the class because she'd never have friends if we did." Peter shook his head stepping to the side and walking around her Marinette following.

"That is no excuse Bustier. If that Alya woman posts anything that she said today. Well, lets just say it will not be pretty. Come on Marinette, as my dad says often, this person isn't worth our time." Marinette held back a laugh before nodding and walking out the door still holding his arm. She pulled out her phone with her left hand and typed out a few quick texts. Smiling gently when she got responses, she leaned her head on his shoulder before slipping her phone into her purse. Waiting until Tikki tugged it gently signaling that Marinette could safely release her phone. They stood together at the entrance to the school until a Mercedes Benz pulled up and the driver got out opening the door for them. Peter helped Marinette in before climbing in himself, he laughed grinning at her shocked face. She glared slightly before turning her attention back on to the tablets built into the driver and passenger seats.

"Did you buy them like this?" She asked curiously, slipping her backpack off and putting it down by her feet, buckling up afterwards. Peter shook his head, grin not leaving his face as he buckled up.

"Nope, Dad and I tore it apart and built it together. It's fun bonding time ya know." Marinette smiled sadly glancing out the window looking at the now closed bakery. Her thoughts drifted to before everything happened, when her parents were happy and in love, and still wanted her. Her gaze left the building as the driver pulled into traffic.

"I used to bake with my parents all the time. We ran a bakery, Maman would spend time cooking with me, and Papa and I always played video games together. Every night until, we played every night." Peter's eyes widened and he reached out taking her hand and squeezing it. Marinette blinked looking down at his hand before turning hers and squeezing his hand back. They just sat silently for a while enjoying being together with the other. Neither teen knew why they were inexplicably drawn to each other. In the span of a few hours they were closer than normal, and barely knew each other. This didn't scare either of them though, it felt so natural for them to seek slight comfort with the other. To just be able to sit together and feel like nothing could go wrong. Marinette leaned against him resting her head on his shoulder closing her eyes.

"What happened to your parents?" Peter asked after a while moving to rest his head on top of hers when she tensed up. "You don't have to talk about it? I've just found that it's better to get things off your chest and out instead of letting it linger." Marinette huffed a slight smile taking over her face before disappearing.

"My parents got a divorce two months ago. They had been acting for so long that they were still in love, but had grown to hate each other. In turn that meant they started to hate me, I reminded them too much of the other. So neither of them wanted me, my mother left Paris returning to China. My father decided to go to Italy to stay with his extended family. I was left behind, my honorary Uncle took me in till I turned seventeen." Marinette used her free hand to gently wipe her tears away. She squeezed his hand taking a deep breath. "They left me with nothing but 'good luck'. I stayed with my Godmother for a while but I couldn't sleep on the couch. Then my Uncle offered to stay in Paris with me until my seventeenth birthday. After that I'm technically on my own, I have some money saved up so I could get a small apartment, not in Paris though." Peter brushed his thumb against her knuckles thinking to himself.

"So you're only sixteen? I'm seventeen." He said attempting to change the conversation, and from the giggle Marinette let out, she knew what he was trying to do. "What do you want to do when you graduate? I mean I'm just curious is all you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Like most people like talking about it but I know some don't, but uh, I'm going to be working at SI. Oh and I am already taking college classes online from MIT!" Peter rambled on causing Marinette to laugh and his driver to cough in an attempt to hide his own chuckles.

"I want to go into fashion. I've always been in love with it, and want to have it in my future." Marinette smiled, patting his arm to calm him down. "I've even won a few design competitions, although thanks to Gabriel being unmasked as a supervillain my most distinguished one is gonna be crossed off." Peter raised an eyebrow before connecting the dots with Hawkmoth and the Agreste companies fall.

"I have to ask this after sitting through that god awful class. Do you even like that school?" Marinette groaned, shaking her head slightly. "Because I did notice you zone out in the class." Marinette snorted before nodding.

"See I finished everything online and my plan was to graduate early. However Bustier and Damocles wouldn't allow it, they told me I need my parents signature not my temporary guardian's. So I am stuck there until the end of the year. Especially since I don't have parents, so no one can sign. Child Services won't let my uncle adopt me, apparently he isn't a good role model. Which is kind of funny since he took me in when my parents just abandoned me." She was silent for a while thinking about her situation and Peter did not like silence on the girl.

"Is that how you know M.D. through design competitions?" Peter asked, causing Marinette to laugh softly, wondering how to tell him that she was M.D. "I mean I just noticed that your entire outfit, plus backpack and purse are both M.D. and obviously exclusives." Marinette shook her head as they pulled up outside the luxury hotel, both unbuckling and getting out when the driver opened the door. Marinette adjusted her back back walking up the steps.

"No actually, I've known M.D. my entire life. Now what's your hotel room? Jagged needs to know to meet us there, come on Parker don't leave me hanging." Peter glared playfully at Marinette before telling her their room number. She texted it to Jagged, nodding to the receptionist that greeted her, welcoming her back. "Mister Franco is always so nice, he has worked here for years now. To be honest I'm pretty sure he never takes a day off, he really loves his job." Peter nodded smiling at Franco, before stepping into the elevator with Marinette pressing the button to his floor. "Have you alerted the others to the video chat?" She asked looking up from her phone, meeting Peter's amused eyes. He nodded watching as she slipped her phone into her purse, he noted her pause before letting it drop completely. At first he chalked it up to her making sure the phone was actually in the purse, but then he remembered watching it move earlier in the afternoon. 'Is she keeping a pet in her purse?' He pondered silently as they stepped off the elevator onto his floor. He pulled out his card and opened the door, to be greeted with the amusing sight of his father and Jagged opposite ends of the couch. Tony had his feet pulled up and he stared down at the crocodile lazing on the floor in front of Jagged.

"Ah, Petey, Peter, my son, my first born, my rock when your mothers not around, please-please, explain why we are having a video conference with Bruce Wayne, our favorite reporters Lois and Clark, a Justice League representative, Carol as an Avengers representative, and Jagged Stone and his 'rock 'n roll' crocodile pet?" Tony said, not looking away from Fang for a second. Marinette snorted and walked in further dropping her bag on the floor by the couch, then kneeling down and starting to scratch Fang in his favorite places. Making him roll onto his back, tail waving like an excited puppy. Tony blinked, watching Marinette turn Fang into a cuddly puppy in seconds before turning to look at Peter with a raised eyebrow. "Alright, tell me what this is about." Peter rolled his eyes, slipping off his jacket and kicking his shoes off walking over to stand behind Marinette. Looking down at the crocodile in puzzlement.

"I can do you one better. Karen please play the audio from the class today, starting when Miss Rossi entered the classroom. Oh and Friday can you drag up as much dirt on Lila Rossi as possible." Both AI gave confirmation causing Peter to smile as he stepped around Marinette and Fang sitting down on the couch. He introduced himself to Jagged briefly before turning back to Marinette. "Think you can type up every little lie, while I get incontact with my lawyers." Marinette nodded, the gleam back in her eyes as she pulled her laptop out of her backpack. She waited till Fang rolled back onto his stomach before leaning against him and placing her laptop on her bent legs. The next couple minutes were filled with Tony raging over what the girl said. While Peter clung to his back in an attempt to stop him from suiting up and hunting the girl down. Jagged watched the scene amused sipping on a juice box he pulled from Marinette's bag. Fang was also greatly amused and wanted to join in with the two newcomers to his family but he knew his girl was busy, so moving wasn't an option for him. Marinette ignored them the entire time up until she finished. Then she starred, amused at Tony laying on his side, a grumpy pout on his face as Peter was still wrapped around him.

"Calm now?" She asked, her lips quirking up into a smirk as he leveled a grumpy glare at her. "Because I told Clara to call at five and it's almost time." Tony continued to be grumpy for a while before letting out a loud sigh and nodding.

"Let's get this show on the road, pinky." Marinette sent him a dry look raising an eyebrow before looking at Peter who grinned.

"That's his way of saying he likes you!" Marinette snorted before pulling out her phone before glancing back at Jagged, her eyes narrowing.

"Jagged, is that my juice box?" She asked already knowing that he was drinking the juice box from her backpack. Jagged glanced down at the juice in his hand before grinning at her.

"Well you see, I was thirsty and our hosts were obviously having a moment, and I'll buy you two more twelve packs of the juice boxes." Marinette nodded before turning her gaze off him, giving Tony her signature sunshine smile.

"Hello Mr. Stark, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am unfortunately part of Lila Rossi's class, though at this point I'm the only one that seems to see through lies." She held her laptop out to Peter, who took it with a smile plopping down on the couch. He scrolled through the long list, Marinette had composed. "I'll be the one helping compile all the lies, you may want to make sure everything on the Ladyblog is documented. It used to be a reliable source about Paris's heros, but the reporter, um, correction tabloid writer now fell for Lila's lies." Tony nodded before telling Friday to look into the Ladyblog. A few minutes later Marinette received Clara's call, the two talked together in French until Tony had video connection with Bruce, Lois, Clark, Wonder Woman, and Carol. Everyone wondered what was going on until Peter sent them all the list of lies. Marinette placed Clara on speaker before speaking up to everyone. "A few years ago when I was still in college-ah, middle school for you American's. A girl named Lila Rossi transferred to my school, she spread lies throughout the class about famous people. I was able to see through her lies because she decided to lie about Jagged Stone. " She gestured to Jagged who waved at everyone from his spot. "She claimed that she saved his cat from getting hit by a plane and developed tinnitus from it. She also stated that Jagged Stone wrote a song about her, at the time she was thirteen. Then she claimed to be best friends with Parisian superhero, Ladybug. The hero in question shot those claims down very fast, however the girl twisted it telling everyone Ladybug was only saying that to protect her. The creator of Bugout did not believe the girl, and that is why Ladybug heavily backs her. The list Parker here sent you is every lie she has told about you, Clara I texted you the list." Peter gave Marinette a playful dirty look as Clara took over the conversation.

"Oh my, all these lies I can't believe my eyes!" Everyone looked confused at Clara's rhyming. "I can't believe her claims, all the people she is trying to deceive, and all the names." Clara gasped on her side causing many to wish they could see here. "Oh dear! She could have ruined your careers!" Marinette smiled softly when Clara said that. "She even mentioned your alternate ID, and this simply can't go unmentioned." Everyone looked at Marinette in slight confusion causing Marinette to give them an awkward smile.

"I'm sure all of you can see that she has mentioned that she knows M.D. the new famous designer who has kept out of the public eye. Well you all are lucky enough to meet M.D. before everyone else. It's a pleasure to meet you all, I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I run M.D. Clothing." Everyone stared at her in shock for a bit before the Stark lawyers joined the video chat. At the time they began making plans to take Lila down, and Marinette was at the center of the plans. "Tony and Peter leave in five days. His lawyers will be delivering her chargers, I want this to happen all at once." Everyone noted the determined glean in Marinette's eye, it reminded Tony of Pepper and he found himself about what his wife would think of this young woman. "If everyone has at least one of their lawyers to deliver them at the same time it will destroy her. That is why I suggest we do this during the school day, right before we are set to get out." Everyone agreed with doing it in front of the entire class. It was decided that Tony's lawyers wouldn't enter first, then Bruce's, followed by the Justice League's and the Avenger's, Jagged and Clara's would enter soon after, and then Marinette's lawyer would hand Lila her final lawsuit. After the video chats Marinette gave Peter a big hug smiling brightly as Jagged picked up her backpack and Fang's leash. "Thank you for all the help Peter!" She let go before shaking Tony's hand, her smile not slipping. "As promised, get me yours and Mrs. Stark's measurements and I will make you a M.D. suit and dress combo. I think royal blue with ivory accents will suit you both. Peter has my number, so that you can get me the information." She walked to the door Jagged and Fang following her. "Goodnight you two!" Marinette said as they stepped outside. Peter and Tony stood at the door wishing them goodnight before closing it. Tony immediately turned to Peter once it was closed, wanting an explanation for everything. Peter sat down explaining what all had happened after he left the meeting. Tony listened intently while also thinking to himself about Marinette.

"So Max Kanté is rejected for the Internship program, damn. At least we caught this girl before more lies could be spread. I can't believe she dared to claim that I would give up on my own son." Peter nodded before picking the remote on and turning on Star Wars, he placed his legs across Tony’s lap and leaned again his side for comfort.

“Ya, she is pretty stupid. Did she think no one would ever hear her lives now she has multiple people coming down on her in less than 5 days.”

“Also that Marinette girl, think I can adopt her? Like joint custody? Pep would love her, seriously together they could rule the world.”

“Well with a little money you might be able to. Her parents gave up custody of her and the government refused to let Jagged adopt her.”

Tony looked at Peter silent for a moment before nodding to himself.

“Friday-“

“Already drawing up adoption papers Boss. Pepper has been informed and she had this to say, ‘I give up, let him adopt the girl, I’ll have her registered for online schooling.’ Shall I bribe the person that receives the papers.”

“Yes but remember, I never said yes.”

That caused Peter to burst into laughter as he pulled out his phone, sending a text to his group chat.

Peter-man- New sister on the way guys. You’re gonna love her, dad just has to bride Child services.

Princess Memes a lot- Another science genius??

Peter-man- Nope, ever heard of M.D. Clothing?

Guy in the Chair- You’re joking.

MJ- Why am I not surprised by this.

Princess Memes a lot- You met M.D. and your Father is adopting her.

Princess Memes a lot- That’s it I’m taking a vacation to Paris, I’ll be there by tomorrow Peter. Ayo will be with me, and you will introduce the two of us to your new sister.

Peter-man- Understood Princess, although don’t mention the adoption to her just yet. I think I’m going to ease her into the family dynamic with us.

Princess Memes a lot- Very well Ayo and I will not mention a thing. I will make sure we are both dressed discreetly as well. That way we don’t have to explain why the Princess of Wakanda is in Paris.

Peter chuckled resting his head on Tony’s shoulder curling into his dad's side. Tony smiled, his eyes never wavering from the tv screen as he rubbed his son’s leg gently.

Marinette let out a content sigh as she dried her hair with a towel. She sat on a plush chair in front of a grand dollhouse that was opened so all the rooms could be seen. The Kwami say inside all talking happily, making sure that Duusu and Nooroo were comfortable. Marinette smiled down at them wrapping his hair in her towel before leaning back and looking out the window. Tikki and Plagg flew up to her causing the young woman to laugh softly. She held her hand out allowing them to sit down. “In a few days Lila will be drowning in lawsuits. I really can’t find it in myself to feel bad for her.” Plagg snorted leaning back against her fingers, while Tikki gave him a disapproving look.

“Honestly kid, all you had to do was say the word and I would’ve taken care of the brat.”

“Plagg!” Tikki said, glaring at him, causing the other Kwami to laugh softly with Marinette.

“What?! I didn’t mean kill her! I meant that I’d cut her hair into something that doesn’t look awful! Always jumping to conclusions aren’t you Sugarcube.” Tikki swatted the back of his head causing the cat goddess to fly away laughing hysterically.

“Oh leave him be Tikki. He wouldn’t dare do anything in fear of repercussions from you.” Marinette said softly, bringing Tikki closer to her face. “A few days left Tikki, I am so excited.” Tikki smiled, rubbing her thumb gently as she looked up at her chosen human, her creation soul. Tikki felt her power rise a few days ago and now she knew why. Instead of having just one and a half creation souls around her, she had three. Marinette will always be the soul that resonates with her the most but Peter is a pure creation soul. Then Jagged and Tony combined made the third, it was their pasts that caused half their souls to be that of destruction. Yet it was the fact that they still held half a creation soul that got her, yes they had a reason to be bad, yet they wouldn’t allow it. She was happy that they still held that half tightly, the only for once a human’s, that was not meant to hold Plagg, soul becomes full destruction they become the worst of the worse. Which is why Tikki was happy Lila was going down, her soul was so close to destruction it sickened Tikki. She knew that once that little bit of creation left, there would only be a monster, because she was definitely not suited to be a cat. Tikki looked over at her other half with a gentle smile knowing that they’d find Plagg’s true destruction soul soon as well.

“Princess, why are we going to Paris?” Ayo asked as she followed Shuri onto the jet. The servants following with their bags, placing them onto the plane.

“Stark is adopting a young woman.” Shuri said trying on her phone. She looked up meeting Ayo’s eyes with a slight smirk. “The girl is the M.D. herself, I simply must meet her. According to Peter they only just met her and Tony is already adopting her. Peter also seems to have formed a connection with the woman. So I must meet her, and out of all the Dora Milaje you are able to be perfectly discrete. Anyone seeing us will believe you are simply my older sister, which is what I need. Miss Marinette does not know about the adoption yet and Peter wishes to edge her in. So I will simply be seen as Peter’s friend that decided to visit, and this will keep us out of the news.” Ayo nodded moving to sit down and relax knowing that they had an hour before reaching Paris.

“Very well, I shall enjoy meeting the new Stark child.” She said, causing Shuri to grin at her with a twinkle in her eyes. “I will not enjoy keeping you and Peter out of trouble however.” She finished teasingly causing Shuri to burst into laughter, Ayo only let a slight grin cover her face.

“Oh no oh no oh no.” Marinette muttered as she ran around her room getting ready. “I can’t believe I forgot this! Oh Miss Mendeleiev is going to be so upset! She went out of her way to have me come to her class’s party instead and I’m going to be late! Tikki, Plagg! Grab the pastries please!” The two Kwami lifted one try floating it over to the table by the door before taking the other over as well.

“My bug you must calm down. You have ten minutes before the party starts, yes, but Mendeleiev said to show up at any time.” Tikki flew up with Pollen the two gently fixing the French braid Marinette had begun putting her hair into. “There is no set time you need to be there so you are fine.” A knock on the door startled the human and Kwami slightly, Marinette ushered them into hiding spots before answering the door.

“Hello? Oh Peter! Do you need something?” Peter smiled brightly fidgeting with his sunglasses, he held up two bags filled with snacks.

“I was hoping we could hang out? Dad is in a really boring meeting and if I go it’ll suck my soul out.” He said dramatics causing Marinette to laugh.

“Normally I’d love to, but I have a class party today.” She gestured to the two large trays of pastries.

“Oh, that’s fine! I’ll just help you carry the trays then go find something to do.” Peter said, picking up one of the plates. “And before you say anything, shut up, I want to help.” Marinette glared at him before picking up her purse and folding her jacket over her arm. She picked up the other tray before checking her purse making sure Tikki and Plagg were in it. “Soooo,” Peter said, dragging out the word as he waited for Marinette to lock the door. “Where am I escorting you today fair Goddess?” Peter teased causing Marinette to quirk an eyebrow as they walked toward the elevator.

“Goddess? That's a new one. Care to explain?” She asked, stepping into the elevator pressing the button for the lobby. She reached over pulling his hood up gently with one hand before grabbing his sunglasses and slipping them onto his face. “There you go Mr.Famous.” She teased softly before fixing the strap of her purse. Peter smiled shifting the bag in his hand.

“Well my first thought was princess, but it just doesn’t suit you. Queen had popped in too but that didn’t feel right either. Trust me I know princesses and Queens, and they’d definitely love you but you have an air of difference compared to them. Something that makes you stand out something kind of magical-as silly as it sounds.” Marinette shifted slightly at the mention of magical glancing down at the purse that contained the most powerful beings in existence. Something that did not go unnoticed by Peter. “So when I settled on Goddess it just felt right, of course I tried other names but none compared to Goddess. So that is your new Stark patented nickname! Property of Stark & Co., nobody else can use it without express consent from Stark CEO, Head of R&D, and CEO in training!” Marinette snorted softly stepping out of the elevator Peter followed behind her as she began to giggle.

“Alright I suppose I shall let it slip this time! Besides it is definitely better than Princess, I hate that stupid nickname.” She turned to look at him, eyes twinkling slightly. “Now make sure to stay close, don’t want to have to save you from a car accident again.” Peter laughed rolling his eyes before calling out that it only happened once. Causing Marinette to laugh again as they started the walk to Marinette’s school.

“Oh Marinette! You’re here!!” Aurore called out as she, Mireille, and Jean hurried to meet both her and Peter as they entered the school courtyard. “And you brought a friend!” She said hugging Marinette once Jean took the tray from her. Marinette chuckled nervously hugging the girl back before hugging Mireille as well. “Pleasure to meet you I’m Aurore, that is Mireille, the man that took Marinette’s tray is Jean. Oh and of course you’ll meet the rest of our little family in a bit!” Peter smiled at the girl pushing his sunglasses up.

“I’m Peter, it’s nice to meet you. I am not staying though I was only helping Marinette carry the trays.” He said as Claude bounced over taking the tray from him and passing it off to his sister Allegra. He grabbed Peter’s shoulder directing him towards the rest of their class, smiling goofily. Marinette rolled her eyes smiling as Allan wrapped an arm around her shoulder following behind the two. He was telling her about his most recent audition calmly but excitement was clear in his voice.

“Nonsense! My new friend!!” Claude said smiling brightly leading him to the snack table. “If you’re a friend of Marinette’s then you are more than welcome to our party! I’m Claude Renou, the blonde that took the tray is my sister Allegra Dimont! You already saw Jean, Aurore, and Mireille. Kagami is over there teaching Ondine how to hold a saber, Kagami is wearing the red and black Cheongsam,” He paused turning to Marinette with a hopeful look. “Did I say it correctly?” He beamed when Marinette nodded before turning back to Peter. “And Ondine is the young woman who is completely out of her element on land!” He teased causing Ondine to glare at him playfully before waving politely to Peter. Over there controlling the music is Marc-pretty sure his mom, like runs France’s known yet unknown mafia but he won’t tell us.” Marc shot them a playful look before turning to and beginning to eat Marinette’s cookies. “And behind us is Allan Duval! Better known as Coté Spanghero, a rising actor! Then there is our teacher the wonderful and sometimes cruel Ms. Mendeleiev.” Anne-Claire Mendeleiev turned and stared down Claude who simply grinned at her. She sighed, shaking her head before looking over at Peter.

“Ignore him, of course you are more than welcome to join us. This is our little graduation party, these kids have been my students since middle school, except for Marinette unfortunately. Though I tried to get her multiple times.” She gave him a polite smile before patting his shoulder. “Oh and please call me Anne-Claire, all my students do when they remember they are almost out of school.” Marinette pulled away from Allan with a soft smile before linking arms with Peter. Peter grinned at her leaning closer to her.

“Looks like you don’t need to find something to do.” She said laughing with him. “Now come on, Jean knows some pretty cool magic tricks!” She pulled him over and they stood watching Jean perform different card tricks. They stood together, arms still locked while Peter watched Jean and Marinette talked with Allegra both women laughing together. Peter’s attention was stolen a few minutes later by his phone going off.

Princess Memes a lot- Stark where are you and your new sister?

Princess Memes a lot-Hello? Spiderboy?

Princess Memes a lot- Very well I have already found your location, Ayo and ai are on our way.

“Ah? Will Anne-Claire be upset if my friend and her older sister crash this party?” Anne-Claire raised an eyebrow as she took a sip from her cup looking over.

“Depends Mister Stark, are the delinquents?” Peter was surprised that she knew him and even more surprised when he noticed none of her students were surprised.

“Ah, no not at all. Since you know who I am I’ll be honest. One is royalty and the other her bodyguard acting as sister.” Anne-Claire looked slightly excited at the prospect score nodding.

“As long as they don’t cause trouble they’re welcome here.” Peter nodded smiling brightly before responding to Shuri that they were more than welcome to join.

“My friend will be here soon, they may be a little stand off-ish at first.” Claude laughed, shaking his head, giving Kagami a teasing smile causing the woman to raise her eyebrow, faking an unimpressed look.

“Worry not Peter! We managed to break through Kagami’s Ice Queen persona!” Allan smirked rolling his eyes before handing his drink to Allegra. He stood behind Claude mining all of his actions. This caused them all to burst into laughter while Claude simply grinned looking at them. “Well besides that! Peter I have to ask, are you following in your Dad’s footsteps as head of R&D, or will you be taking up CEO. Oh perhaps I should start with my plans. I want to work in Public Relations, I actually have an internship with Wayne Enterprises. Cool right? Everyone here is going on to amazing things actually!” Peter smiled looking at them.”Why don’t we tell him? I’m sure Marinette has already told you her plans. We might as well tell him the rest!” Allegra shook her head smiling softly.

“I’ll tell him, obviously Allan is continuing his acting career, I am going to Harvard to study Law. Kagami is taking over her family business, Ondine is already an Olympic swimmer. Aurore and Mireille are continuing their weather girl careers, Marc is on his way to becoming a famous author and Jean is continuing his figure skating career.” Peter nodded looking at all of them., rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well I am actually already working at Stark Industries, I run the Internship program. Paid and Unpaid, I decide if you are given a chance in our company. I am however in training for both CEO and head of R&D, my parents told me that it is my choice. Although neither plan to retire for quite some time!” The class plus two continued to talk happily never noticing the girl glaring at them from Ms. Bustier’s classroom. Lila knew something was up, ever since she had laid eyes on the man sitting next to Marinette. It was something about him, something that made him stand out. She looked over at her sheep all of who were too engrossed with final plans for the last class trip. These were her sheep, the people that fell in line just to stop her crocodile tears. She sat high and powerful atop her kingdom and Marinette was in her rightful place, alone and ostracized. Something told her though, that the man out there with Mendeleiev’s class was going to ruin her. She sniffed looking away again giving her sheep a fake smile. She’d simply have to destroy him first.

“This is the place.” Shuri said looking up from her phone as Ayo and her walked through the school. “Peter said the teacher they were with is fine with us being here. Apparently they are having a party. Which sounds like a lot of fun!” They finally walked into the courtyard spotting Peter and the class before walking over when Peter waved excitedly. He introduced them to the class, smiling brightly when Marinette and Shuri hit it off right away.

Over the next couple days Marinette grew closer with Peter, Tony and Shuri. Marinette showed the three around Paris with the help of her friends in Mendeleviev’s class. Tony had even promised them visits to Stark tower the summer after their graduation. Of course it wasn’t known to Marinette that she’d soon be living there. In fact they still had to break it to her that Tony’s adoption request went through. It finally came out during a move night that Tony and Peter were holding with Marinette, Shuri, Ayo, her friends, and Jagged.

“Ya know, I’m going to miss you guys.” She said softly leaning against Peter’s side holding his right hand and carefully painting his nails a navy blue. Peter tensed slightly, sharing a look with Tony. Marinette noticed immediately when Peter tensed looking up at him sharply. “What?” She asked, turning to look at the father and son duo. Peter looked at Tony knowing that his father had to tell her.

“Ah, well you see Pinky, I decided that I didn’t want to lose you. So you’re mine now.” He said not looking her in the face, attempting to hide his nervousness.

“I’m yours now?”

“Yes. Our if you want to be specific and bring Pep into this considering she’s my wife, but mine either way.”

“You do know I’m not something to be owned, correct?”

“Well yes, but you’re still mine. End of story. You’re my daughter now, which means you’re Peter’s sister.”

“You know, I should be upset about this but honestly I really didn’t want you guys to leave. I’ve grown attached and I think Uncle has too.”

Peter smiled brightly wrapping his arms around Marinette, careful not to mess up his nails.

“We just have one last thing to do.”

“Oh?”

“Change your last name to Stark.”

Tony said, smirking as he ruffled his now daughter’s hair. It wasn’t until after the movie finished that they announced the news to the rest of their group, and the celebration was anything but quiet. The night ended with a big sleepover in the Stark’s current living room and all went to bed knowing that tomorrow was the day they took Lila off her fake throne.

Lila smirked looking at herself in the mirror taking in her makeup. Nasty fake bruises covered her face and lower neck. She looked down at her clothes to make sure they were properly ripped. She nodded before heading out, stopping before she made it to the school before starting to cry. She rushed to the school bursting into Ms. Bustier’s class immediately having attention on her. She hid a smirk before spouting her sob story. Not knowing that Peter and his father were about to walk through that door with multiple lawyers Shuri and Ayo also tagging along. The moment Peter stepped through the door Kim charged at him fire in his eyes. Ayo was quick to move, taking Kim down flawlessly in seconds. “What do you think you’re doing! Get off my student!” Ms. Bustier said standing quickly but not moving towards Ayo and Kim.

“Shut it you banshee.”Ayo growled out standing up but keeping her foot in the middle of Kim’s back. “I shall act as guard for you all.” She said after Shuri gave her a subtle nod of permission. Tony and Peter’s lawyer Ryan was the first to step forward.

“Thank you warrior.” He said nodding in respect to Ayo before turning to the class. “I am Ryan Wilson and I am Tony and PETER Stark’s lawyer. I am looking for one Lila Rossi.” Lila sat stock still not wanting to draw any attention to her. That failed when Ayla was quick to point her out.

“She is right here! You’re here to help her after that monster attacked her earlier aren’t you? Wow! Stark works fast! Oh can I record this for my blog?” Ryan galred at both girls before walking over and placing papers on the table.

“No, you may not! Lila Rossi you’ve been served! The Stark family is suing you for slander and defamation of character as well as claiming to others that you work with them. I suggest you find a lawyer and soon.” He turned away from them and walked to Bustier’s desk placing papers on her desk. “This is for allowing and even helping your student to lie.” He stepped back ignoring the class crying out in outrage. Lila just sat staring down at the paper in horror. The horror mounting as more and more papers were added to the pile until Marinette’s delicate and manicured hand placed her own papers down. She looked up at Marinette’s blank face, tears streaming down her face as anger slowly built.

“Lila I have let you get away with a lot, all because I was supposed to be the ‘better person’. Well I am done with that flawed idea, it’s time you learned that lies have consequences.” She turned heading back over to Peter smiling brightly until she saw Tony and Peter’s eyes widened as they moved forward. LIla let out a blood curdling scream launching herself at Marinette. Marinette turned quickly but Ayo was faster than both girls and slammed Lila into the ground. She calmly turned to look at Ryan not releasing her grip from Lila. “It may be smart to call for the police.” Officer Raincomprix walked in soon after sending the teacher a disappointed look as he pulled out handcuffs.

“We are already here. Lila Rossi evidence has been discovered proving that you willingly worked with Gabriel Agreste, also known as Hawkmoth. Anything you say can and will be held against you.” He cuffed her ignoring her screams and holding the young women still as she thrashed trying to get to Marinette. Tony wrapped an arm around her shoulder as Peter linked their arms together causing Marinette to smile.

“Ready to head home, daughter of mine?” Tony said with a smirk as Marinette leaned her head against his arm.

“Ya know, I can’t wait to see my new home. Lets go.”

I wondered when he was finally going to be bored.

Sir, be careful!

#peter parker #tony stark #peter stark #irondad #Avengers #team iron man #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fandom #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #marinette dupain cheng #lila bashing #lila salt #class salt #quantic kids #DC Universe

856 notes · View notes

scones-and-texting-and-murder · 3 years ago

Text

Bookends

(This story was originally written for and published in the DeanCas Anthology back in 2018. )

Word Count: 2223 Rating: General ao3 link

Cas pulls as close to the door as he can, checking the rearview mirror to make sure he isn’t blocking traffic as he waits for Dean to get out of the car. Before heading inside, Dean ducks his head back in to smile at him. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

Instead of driving away, Cas stays there, watching until Dean pulls open the diner door. Leaning heavily on his cane, he shuffles more than walks, his bow-legged gait made stiff by the arthritis that wracks his joints. Cas waits until he’s safely inside, then pulls past the open handicapped space Dean stubbornly refuses to use, and finds an empty parking spot.

Cas’s car is boxy and utilitarian, and Dean often proclaims that he wouldn’t be caught dead behind the wheel of something so ugly. Cas plays along because giving up driving had been Dean’s toughest concession to age, but as his vision deteriorated and his reflexes slowed, it had become an unavoidable sacrifice. With replacement parts for the Impala harder and harder to come by, Dean had finally agreed to keep her stored safely away in their garage. Cas knew it pained him to see her shrouded under a tarp, her motor idle and useless, but Dean would rather enshrine her in pristine condition than risk one more run-in with a light pole or curb.

With his ugly car parked, Cas crosses the lot to join Dean inside. While he’s aged as well, aged to the point that nobody questions the two of them together, he’s been spared many of the maladies that Dean’s combat-wrecked body has endured, and he moves with relative ease. The best they can figure is that the grace he’d had on and off over the years left his body with a certain resilience to the passage of time. Cas can’t cure Dean as he once could, can’t ease the aches or slow the aging process, but he can use his own comparatively good health and mobility to take care of him.

Inside, Cas navigates past the hostess stand to find Dean at their usual booth, chatting with their usual waitress. The two of them go to this diner religiously each Sunday morning, where the pews are scuffed burgundy vinyl booths and the altar is the breakfast buffet with the generous senior discount. As always, Dean has maneuvered himself across the bench seat to make room for Cas to sit beside him. His cane rests against the wall in easy reach, the simple carved wooden handle belying the fact that the base unscrews to reveal a bayonet-like tip. It’s never been wielded as a weapon (although Dean uses it, still sheathed, to poke at aggressive pigeons who muscle in around their favorite park bench), but that potential made it “badass” enough to overcome Dean’s resistance to using it.

To Sam’s everlasting chagrin, Dean has kept all of his hair, and it’s turned a stunning silver. The crinkles around his eyes have deepened, meeting the roadmap of lines that cross his face. His shoulders are stooped, his joints are stiff, and Cas thinks he’s never been more beautiful. After so many seemingly certain ends, so many years assuming Dean would die young and bloodied, the fact that he’s living out a full, lengthy life is an unparallelled blessing. Cas marvels at the gift of days that have unfolded into decades, granting them time he never dreamed they’d have together here on earth.

As Cas settles into the booth, he smiles and greets their waitress.

“Two for the buffet?” she confirms as she pours their coffee. Cas doesn’t even have to check to know that she’ll leave Dean’s at a little more than half-full so he can lift it without the tremor in his hands sloshing it over the brim.

They drink their coffee quietly, simply enjoying the ritual of being here. Dean peers at the laminated card that lists the specials, even though he never orders off the menu.

“Shall I?” When Dean nods, Cas gets to his feet. “Any requests?”

“You know what I like,” Dean says, leaning over to swat at Cas’s butt.

Picking up two plates from the warmer, Cas slides them along the metal counter, filling them in tandem as he traverses the buffet. Pancakes are too difficult for Dean to get on a fork, but the crisp waffles are good. Bacon he can pick up and eat, and Cas uses the tongs to place precisely two strips on his plate. If Dean wants more, he can get up and get it himself.

Dean can argue with Cas’s choices, but they’d had a hell of a scare a few years back. Cas will never forget the look on Dean’s face when their phone rang in the middle of the night, alerting them that Sam had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. They’d rushed there themselves, Cas driving in silence, knowing that nothing short of seeing Sam with his own two eyes could reassure Dean. Thankfully, it had been a mild heart attack and, after spending a few days in the hospital, the discharge plan called for cardiac rehab and an appointment with a nutritionist. With Sam’s release imminent, Dean had relaxed enough to crow at the irony. “Don’t either of you try to tell me what to eat ever again. Mr. Organic Produce is the one lying in the hospital bed while my pork-rind-fueled ticker is going strong.”

Still pale, Sam’s brow furrowed with resignation. “I’m beginning to think you can’t die.”

Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t get to go first. We have a deal.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam lifted the hand without the IV in a mock salute.

“That’s more like it,” Dean said. “Speaking of which, I need a snack.”

Cas helped him up and they walked to the elevator that would take them to the cafeteria. As they waited for it to arrive, Dean pulled Cas into a hug. Cas left a hand on his shoulder when they stepped apart again. “All right?”

Dean nodded, his green eyes shining with tears. “I’m glad you’re here.” Cas started to respond, to remind him that there was nowhere else he would be, but Dean cut him off. “I know you know. But I wanted to say it anyhow.”

Cas noticed a change after that. Dean was still the same stubborn mule Cas had fallen in love with, but he gradually became more willing to let Cas help. And somehow, Cas loved him even more for it. He loved seeing the slow-blossoming acceptance that came when Dean stopped seeing Cas’s help as a sign of weakness.

Now, standing in front of the steaming trays of food, Cas considers what else to add to their plates. He bypasses the cauldron of oatmeal (they eat that at home most mornings) and continues along the buffet. There’s a tremendous satisfaction in being allowed to care for this man who has done so much for so many and asked for so little in return. In fact, Dean has now embraced this new role so fully—no longer questioning what he deserves, or grudgingly accepting help, but full-on enjoyment of being doted on—that Cas has to be careful he doesn’t get lazy. There’s nothing Cas would rather do than settle Dean in front of a sunny window, snug in the recliner for Cas to wait on like a pampered cat, but he knows that sort of inactivity would do Dean’s joints and his heart no favors. So he watches Dean’s diet and insists on them taking slow walks after breakfast when his energy is highest.

Their neighborhood is a mix of young and old and everyone knows the two Mr. Winchesters who circle the block on days when the weather permits. The kids on bikes and scooters know to give them a wide berth, their parents warning them that the old men need the entire sidewalk, but they call out their hellos as they go by. They’re friendly with everyone except the woman who lives on the corner. Dean is convinced she’s a demon, but Cas suspects his distrust of her stems more from the fact that she seems immune to his charm. (Whatever the reason, he’s had to talk Dean out of chalking a devil’s trap inside her mailbox more than once.) They chat with their neighbors about the weather and the score of last night’s ballgame, and it’s so painfully normal that Cas sometimes feels his throat tighten up at the wonder of it all.

When Cas returns to their booth, Dean examines his plate. “They outta bacon?”

Cas cuts the waffle into manageable pieces and peels the wrapper from the muffin before sliding Dean’s plate over. “You know the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. “You just like to look at my ass when I get up.”

They eat in congenial silence with Dean methodically working his way around his plate, eating everything heartily, even the fruit. Sitting next to him, Cas can easily scoop up any bites that miss his mouth, plucking them from Dean’s lap or his shirt.

“You two good?” The waitress asks when she comes to refill their coffees. “Need anything?”

Dean swallows the bite of muffin he’s working on, and rests his hand on top of Cas’s. “I’ve got everything I need right here. An actual angel, this one.”

She nods agreeably. “I can almost see his halo.”

Cas has learned that an old man can say just about anything and receive an indulgent smile in return. When Dean references angels or demons or the apocalypse, people assume he’s speaking in metaphor and they’ll nod pleasantly. Sometimes he’ll do it purely for effect, telling rambling tales from their past for the sheer enjoyment of being able to speak openly. He can’t always keep the details straight, but Cas is there to remind him. Some days, though, he seems to lose where he is in time, and there’s nothing Cas can do for that. Cas has taken to keeping a watchful eye on him in the late afternoons when he likes to doze on the couch with their one-eyed black cat curled up on his chest. Cas stays close in case he wakes from his nap agitated, calling for Cas, wanting to know where Sam is. Cas helps him to sit up as the cat springs down and scurries away.

“Don’t go,” he says again and again, and Cas takes him in his arms, assuring Dean that he’s here and reminding him that Sam is safe at his own home. He holds him until Dean shakily dismisses it all as just a bad dream.

The unfairness of it overwhelms Cas, and each time he’s left filled with wrath. These final years should be spent in well-earned peace, but instead Dean seems cursed with reliving his most frightening memories, traumatized anew by old, familiar fears. If Dean’s mind is destined to slip, why can’t it be toward blissful forgetting? What Dean has endured goes beyond what any human should; to ask him to bear it again is nothing short of cruel. But it’s a torture chamber created in his own mind, and all Cas can do is sit helplessly by, doing his best to ground Dean and bring him back to the present.

Cas looks at Dean’s empty plate. “Did you want to get some more?”

“Nah.” He’s full and happy and it’s time for their walk.

The waitress arrives to clear their plates. As he does every week, Dean asks if she needs to see his ID for the senior discount. As she does every week, she pretends to consider it before leaving the check. “You boys take your time.”

“Tip her well,” Dean says, leaning in to supervise Cas as he signs the bill.

“I always do,” Cas assures him.

When they’re ready to leave, Cas stands next to the banquette, waiting for Dean to retrieve his cane and slide himself to the edge. Using a combination of the cane and Cas’s extended arm, Dean hoists himself upright, groaning a little. Cas keeps a firm hold on him until he’s steady on his feet. Dean still dresses in layers, but these days it’s because he gets chilled easily. He favors heavy knit cardigans and as long as Cas gets the zipper started for him he can tug it up or down as needed. Cas checks him for crumbs then together they walk through the other tables crowded with families. They continue by the hostess station where a woman is wiping down menus. “See you next week,” she calls as they pass.

Cas steps forward to push open the door, and stands holding it. “Watch your step,” he says as he always does, pointing toward the raised metal threshold of the doorway.

Using his cane to steady himself, Dean shuffles his way over it, then stops to lay his hand on Cas’s cheek. His knuckles are gnarled, the skin of his palm is dry and warm, and Cas feels the same flare of awe go through him as he has since the moment he first found this glorious soul in the depths of hell.

“I am the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Dean says.

Cas kisses his palm, then takes his arm to help him on his way.

#deancas #destiel #my writing #growing old together #this came well before the finale #but it feels like a fix it fic nonetheless

78 notes · View notes

miss-owl-eyes · 4 years ago

Text

⋇⋆➶𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘙𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧➴⋆⋇

⋇⋆➶𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳! 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘹 𝘎𝘕 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦➴⋆⋇

❀𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘬❀

❀𝘈𝘖𝘛 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘬❀

══✿══°˖✧✿✧˖°══✿══

Content: strip club, alcohol

♡ 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘵 ♡

══✿══°˖✧✿✧˖°══✿══

It's great to relax after a busy week with a glass of alcohol and some relaxing music, but it really depends on the scene you're in. You didn't know whether to question or smack your coworker Zeke's arm for where he took you after your meeting on Friday:

The strip club.

Dimmed lights and bright colors concealed the scent of alcohol, perfume, and sweat throughout the morally questionable building he took you too. You two were seated in front of the platform that held poles and shameless women dancing the night away. "Zeke, of all places, why did you think a strip club was the best place to go?" He laughed and took a sip of whatever he was offered at the bar. "Free alcohol and gorgeous girls, it's a good way to forget our problems and how many paper-jams we've had this past week." You nodded and took a sip from your own drink, unfortunately agreeing with the man who took you here.

Girl strutted down the runway, some winking at you two and others giving a cheeky twist of their hips. You could only assume it was for Zeke since you assumed he was the more attractive one of the pair, in your eyes he was, at least. You watched the girls strut by and wink flirtatiously at your friend and continued to drink your alcohol, wondering when you could go home.

Another girl came around, she had long black hair and a sight smirk on her lips. Her black heels clicked on the floor while her hips swayed, eying both of you. She wrapped her palms around the pole in front of you, throwing her leg up and quickly swiveling around. You huffed out a sigh and looked at Zeke who was now cheering on the woman.

Her eyes caught yours for a moment before she flipped herself over, thighs wrapping around the pole tightly, hands holding the pole as she winked at you. You were taken by surprise and blushes slightly, the woman smiled at that and spread her legs at alcamost 90° angle before slowly moving her hips down only the ground, now doing the splits in front of you. Your eyes followed her every movement, watching her ass press against the walkway; the tight lingerie underneath that was barely covered by the silky coat didn't help your case either.

You were now enamored by her hypnotic movements, her palms wrapping around the pole while her hips moved in tight circles in front of you, her eyes watching your facial expressions change and smirking to herself.

Minutes that felt like hours passed. You were cheering on the strippers and even threw your own money at a few of them, Zeke was right for taking you here. You couldn't tell if you were tipsy or if you lost yourself in the rush of the music and sexy girls dancing, you could, however, tell that you needed another drink. You pardoned yourself from Zeke who smiled and waved as you walked to the bar counter, sitting on one of the stools.

You ordered your drink and sat patiently, looking back towards the poles once again. There was a small tap on your shoulder and a light "hi" that followed. It was the black haired dancer from earlier. Her outfit changed, instead of lingerie and silk, it was a leather tux that looked a size too small. You tried your hardest not to look down at the way it pushed her boobs up or how it gripped around her waist, emphasizing her thighs that were adorned with fishnets.

Instead you looked up, she wore a pair of black bunny ears and a bow tie, a classic look. "Hello cutie~" she spoke, snapping you out of admiration and looking straight at her face. She had full, hazel eyes that were half lidded, almost tired. She had a slight smirk on her face as well as a light blush, however you excused that as her makeup.

"Oh, hello there." You replied. She closed her eyes and smiled in reply before speaking. "I noticed you were watching me during my performance," you blushed and scratched the back of your head in embarrassment, "don't worry cutie, I liked it. I was really just putting on that show for you, I'm not usually that energetic." She booped your nose and smiled at you.

"What's your name cutie?" She asked, her eyes slightly more widened with curiosity. "Um, Y-Y/N..." she smiled and giggled slightly. "Cute name for a cute person, my name is Pieck, but my stage name is Piecky-Chan." She admitted. It was a cute name, it suited the sinful innocence of her bunny costume well.

The bartender gave you your drink and moved to take care of his next order. "You like that stuff too, hm? We have similar tastes." Pieck said, almost admiring the drink you had. "Yeah, nothing like a little scotch to forget your problems, right?" She laughed at your shitty joke, it may have been fake flirting, but it made you smile nonetheless.

"You know, I like you Y/N. Give me your hand." Without question, you outstretched a hand. She asked the bartender for a pen before writing on your palm and kissing it.

"Here's my number in case you want to talk more. I may be a stripper, but I'm also good at small talk." She joked. You had just met this gorgeous woman and you felt at peace with her voice. Her finger found its way to your chin as she tilted her head and looked at you. "Come now cutie, my shoft is about to begin, and I want to make sure your eyes are on me."

The two of you stood up, her hand grabbing your wrist and walking you back to your table and next to your coworker before kissing your cheek and vanishing.

Zeke chuckled to himself and looked at the stage, the bunny girl Piecky-Chan was up. She smiled and winked at you, you knew this show was for you and your eyes, and you loved the attention from such a sweetly naughty woman.

#aot x you #aot fanfiction #aot imagines #aot fandom #aot x reader #aot anime #aot pieck #pieck aot #pieck x reader #snk x reader #snk #snk fanfiction #snk anime #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #pieck finger #pieck finger x reader

149 notes · View notes

spacecadetal · 4 years ago

Text

fireworks

kakashi hatake/fem!reader

word count: 2774 warnings: descriptions of violence, descriptions of blood, descriptions of killing, alcohol use author notes: i wanted to write something a little different than i usually would i kinda got a little tired of my wips lol

the first time i saw him, i was eight years old with a shy curiosity about the world. long story short, his shoulder collided with my own. he wasn’t watching where he was going and neither was i, the hard jolt gave me such a fright that i yelled at him to watch where he was going. i had too much pride to admit i was at fault, lost in a daydream once again. he shared my reaction and my sentiment. saying i should watch myself too with great annoyance in his tone. i scoffed, he huffed, we went our separate ways.

i had always heard his name but never connected the dots until i was much older but still not much wiser. he was a prodigy, i was painfully just above average. as a bright eyed genin, i was out in the world and only starting to understand the true meaning of the path i chose at the naive age of six. his squad was babysitting my own on a mission. his mentor stands next to mine and introduces us and my face sours immediately. unlike him i don’t have a mask to hide it. he avoids me for the whole mission but his teammates are nice.

his red eye was making waves around the world, he was a myth and enemies across the land waited in anticipation for the day to come where they could finally see it in the flesh. great gain had come with great loss, i’m sure he wishes the second hand eye was back with its original owner. i remember the first time i saw him lift up his headband and expose it to the world. the blood red eye and it’s black swirls, chills shoot down my spine like pins and needles. engaging with an enemy was pure violence, animalistic and messy yet he made it seem so graceful.

the pines and the dark forest disappear before my eyes; now he stands on a wooden stage with his foe, dancing under a spotlight. every dodge and weave is smooth and flawless. his strikes felt as natural and as quick as a snake striking at its prey. i watch his performance with a disregard for my own safety and when the last of our enemies hit the dirt, i wait for him to bow. instead he shakes the blood off his kunai and the famous eye is tucked away under his headband. i think i fell in love with him that afternoon.

the girl who died, her name was rin and that one time her team babysat mine, she braided my hair by a campfire and said i had a pretty name. she didn't deserve to die. they whisper about him when he walks by, terrible nasty things. but i smile at him, wave to him when i see him and hope it makes him feel less alone in the world. he sees it and he averts his gaze without reply or acknowledgement. rejection makes my chest tighten, if only slightly. naturally i assume he doesn’t like me, maybe he doesn’t like anyone.

i'm in a village with my squad for a mission, it’s small but the green tea in the wooden cup and the smell of rabbit stew on the stovetop makes me feel at home. the excited teenage boy asks me about the things i've seen. the only thing he knows is chopping wood and shearing sheep. he asks me about a rumour he’s heard by a traveller about the boy that conjures lightning in his hand, he asks me if i've seen it before in the flesh. i smile and nod and confirm that i have. he asks me to describe it. i don't know how to at first.

first, you hear the static snapping and popping and it captures your attention instantly. then the pale blue light grows bigger and bigger in his hand, it takes on a life of its own and i won’t lie and say that it doesn’t make my heart beat out of my chest but he tames it like a wild beast, he has complete control. if you stand off to the side, you can watch the show. lightning surrounds him but he is never burnt. he’s like a god when he strikes, i've never seen something so terrifying but beautiful. he's beautiful. but i don’t tell the teenage boy that and i dont tell him that sometimes the loud crackle of his chidori haunts me when im alone.

when i'm a chunnin, i feel much older than i am. it's not due to the title of my rank but because i keep plunging my kunai into grown men’s hearts and have to pretend it doesn’t faze me to see blood squirting from punctured arteries. i don't see him around the village much anymore. he lives in the darkness, in the shadows but sometimes he comes out into the light. he's grown so much older and taller and i think he looks handsome in his gear. toned arms and biceps and that tattoo on his left upper arm, the one that tells the world where his loyalties lie. walking past him, i prepare to feel the chill of his icy demeanor but i say his name, wave and smile. the only one of his eyes that sees the world widens and the veins of his arms bulge at my greeting, i can’t see his hands because they’re stuffed in his pockets. he always looks away but this time, for the smallest of seconds, he nods in my direction and then he is gone.

when the nine tailed beast attacks the village, i am kept away from the battle in a forest with the rest of the ninja around my age. he’s there, standing by his friend who talks and talks. i like his friend, he always greets me with enthusiasm. i try to ignore the sounds of my village being destroyed and the screams of the unfortunate dying people as i am powerless to do anything. my eyes move on their own in his direction only to find he has the same idea. for a moment, air leaves my lungs and i nod politely before i look away. his eyes meet mine one, two, three times. that night my home was buried under a mountain of rock and rubble and he lost the last person that knew the true extent of the damage this world had inflicted on him.

the elderly lady at the stall with the hair clips told me i've grown into a beautiful young lady and i blush at her comment and insist it isn’t so. she tells me i must have a lot of boys' attention and i buy the deep blue hair clip with the faux sapphire gem. it stands out in my dark hair. it's been a long time since my house was crushed and a long time since he’s sat in the dango store with his friends but here’s there when i walk by. the compliment has me on cloud nine and i'm glad he’s not alone anymore. i smile at the group, say ‘ hey guys ’ and wave. for a millisecond my eye catches his as i'm walking by and my mind plays tricks on me. i think i see his cheeks tinge red.

kurenai came up to me one summer's morning and asked if i was attending the festival. i told her i was but likely alone. maybe i wasn’t such a pretty girl, no fish ever nibbled on the hook of the fishing pole i cast into the waters. her boyfriend looked bored as we spoke and her crimson eyes smile when she brings up the boy with the silver hair’s name, pretending she doesn’t notice my breath hitch for the slightest of moments. ‘ you should ask him, he’s not going with anyone either ’ she tells me and then she drags her boyfriend away. i sit alone on the cliffs for an hour thinking it through, my knees up to my chin as i wonder why she would suggest such a thing. iwashi is pissed that i'm twenty minutes late to meet up with them.

his group joins up with mine hours later and i greet him as i always do. he stands off to the side and plays with his hands and every time i catch his eye he looks as if he wants to say something to me. they say love feels like butterflies but when my eyes meets his, those butterflies turn into angry bees. i want to say something to him too, ask him where his friend got the idea that i should ask him to go with me but the bees within me sting and their venom prevents me from opening my mouth. i avert my gaze and pretend to listen to genma when he talks about his favourite order of ramen.

we all part ways but we’re together again within the hour and i'm waiting nervously at the spot kurenai told me to come back to. my yukata is the colour of lapis and white periwinkles decorate the sleeves and i wonder if i look plain compared to the girls around me dressed in passionate pinks, gentle purples, and bold reds. he doesn’t see me at first but i see him. his yukata is dark grey with light thin stripes and it compliments his bright silver hair wonderfully. it’s the first time i've seen his hair down and his long strands are wild and stick out all over the place, i think i fall in love with him all over again. hes alone and i don’t dare to approach but he finally sees me. he waves, i nod. he's so handsome that i can’t stand to look at him so i don’t.

it’s dark and explosions of many colours light up the sky. i'm so distracted by the loud boom echoing off the hills and the blue, red, white and green lights on a black landscape that i don’t notice he's standing right beside me watching it too. knuckles lightly brush against my own, my chest tightens at the sensation. it’s distracting enough that i tear my eyes away from the sky show. they’re as wide as a possum when i meet his gaze. he doesn’t say anything, he just stares for a moment before he looks back at the fireworks. it was an accident and i forgive and forget but then his fingers awkwardly hook around my own, clinging for dear life. i cannot look, i cannot think nor speak. i hold my breath and blink rapidly while i cling onto his fingers just as tightly. when the fireworks are finished, we consider each other in silence for a minute. his hand leaves mine and we part ways without a word.

every time i see him, i see fireworks and feel the ghost of his fingers wrap around my own. he acknowledges me and we’re rarely left alone around each other; when we are we do not speak of it. we lean against a railing side by side and watch our friends fool around. courageously i say to him that the weather is nice today and he nods in agreement before his friend calls him over. when he leaves my side, his knuckles brush past mine once more. i jump in surprise and tell myself it was another forgivable accident but then he glances back at me as he walks away and i can’t be too sure.

i am frozen still in a shrub waiting for the enemy to pass by. the sound of my heartbeat in my ears is so loud but suddenly it is replaced with the familiar crackle of electricity that haunted my dreams for the longest of times. when i turn around i see a man gasping for life, holding on tightly to the kunai i imagined would have been plunged into the nape of my neck if it wasn’t for the ball of lightning sizzling away in his chest. the man’s body drops to the ground and i finally see him standing there in the man’s place, his lower arm is soaked with blood from the fatal strike. he takes my hand and helps me onto my feet. that famous red eye is hiding behind a porcelain hound mask and he asks me if i'm okay. i assure him i am and thank him, he nods his head in reply and walks away. i don’t mind that he’s left my hand stained with our enemy’s blood.

when i am given the rank of jonin i am months away from being twenty. i’m not allowed to drink just yet but my older friends buy bottles of sake to share in the park and i accept the invitation without giving it much thought. it’s sweet on my tongue and goes down smoothly, the aftertaste reminds me of potatoes for some strange reason i can’t put my finger on. i drink and i drink until half a bottle is gone and my cheeks are red and i laugh too loudly at asuma’s lame jokes. the stars are beautiful tonight but they just look like streaks of light in my blurry vision. i lay in the grass, my head feels light and my stomach slightly churns. out of nowhere he is in my line of sight, standing over me with a touch of concern on the features that aren’t hidden away. he asks me if i'm okay and i say i'm just fine and i think to myself that i'm glad to see him.

when he takes me home, he lectures his friends that i'm too young to get drunk and they reply that i'll be old enough in a couple of months and it doesn’t make that much of a difference. he doesn’t mind my drunken babbling and how my head leans on his shoulder as we walk slowly through the dimly lit streets. his grip around my waist is tight and i try not to say something foolish like the way he fights is a form of art or that i want him to hold my hand again. he drops me off at the door and leaves once i am inside safely. i pass out that night thinking of the ways i want to be his.

i am twenty one when he leaves the anbu and i see him on the streets alone. his nose is in a book and he doesn’t notice as i walk by. i fight the urge to turn around and ask him how he’s going, i’ll be late to meet up with my old squad to train if i do. later when i walk home, i stare off into the distance and think about making dinner and sharpening my collection of kunai when i collide with something hard. i jump out of fright at the impact, ready to snap when two hands land on my shoulders to secure me in place. we’re not kids anymore and he smiles at me and apologises even when i'm at fault. i ask him how he’s been and he says he’s been just fine. he walks me home and we talk about missions and his new role as a squad leader. on my doorstep he says he’ll see me around and then he is gone and i am left greedily wanting more of his time.

one day when we are standing alone he tells me he is in love with me. it is is out of the blue and i brush it off with laugher, telling him he couldn’t possibly be; he takes my hand in his and insists it’s true. he tells me that he has been since the moment i collided with him in the street when he was ten years old. that when the world was unkind to him, i provided enough kindness to keep him going, all in a smile and a greeting. it is everything i have wanted to hear and more. the angry swarm of bees are back and i am stung over and over again. he can tell that i'm paralysed so his lips fall gently onto mine and it allows me to say the things i cannot utter out loud. my eyes are closed and i can see the very same fireworks from the night our fingers touched. when he breaks away from me he says we should get out of here and wordlessly i agree. we walk in the streets of the village and i am unsure of the destination he has in mind. his fingers are wrapped around mine.

#kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x oc #kakashi hatake imagines #kakashi x reader #my fic #my writing #f

130 notes · View notes

eerythingisshaka · 4 years ago

Text

Ficmas Day #17 “The Jabari-cracker”

[M’Baku x Reader]

Word Count: 1.2k

This year for extra pay, you booked a gig for seasonal work at the mall; specifically, to work in Santa’s Workshop. The classic setting with candy cane poles lining a path to the main man’s regal red and gold throne, flanked by mounds of cotton wool to simulate the terrain of the North Pole.

The line remains long as parents and children wait impatiently for a picture with Santa Claus. As you get dressed in the bathroom, you struggle to get your feet through the offensively green tights without risking stepping in a mysterious wetness on the floor by the toilet. You hear the bathroom door open, followed by the intense scurry of a small child.

“Mommy! I wanna see Santa!” the kid exclaims, bouncing in her Mary Jane shoes as her mother’s sneakers squeak behind her.

“I know, Katie. But the line is long and you had a lot of apple juice this morning. So if you pee on Santa, he may put you on the naughty list.”

They take the stall next to yours, just as you’re putting on your elf shoes.

“Mommy look! It’s his elf! They’re peeing too!”

Her mother shushes her. “Sorry Ms. Elf! Katie, don’t talk to people while they are using the restroom.

You roll your eyes, picking up your bag and exiting the stall. As you wash your hands in the sink, the child runs out of the stall to hug your leg. You look down to see the desperate eyes of the 7 year old.

“Can you tell Santa how good I’ve been? And that I want a bunch of squishmallows?”

Her mother pulls her off of you. “I’m sorry again! Remember boundaries, Katie?”

Katie pokes a lip out as she is led out the bathroom. “But I get to sit on Santa’s lap, why can’t I hug the elf?”

You rinse off your hands, ignoring the child completely as you put your jolly green hat on.

“Did they wash their fuckin hands?”

In the mall, you stand by Santa watching the clock as the minutes tick by before showtime is at eleven.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa can’t wait to meet you all!” he exclaims heartily.

You paste a smile on your face as best you can, waving at the children.

“You don’t like this much, do you?”

You look over and see Santa looking at you.

You shrug, feeling annoyed. “It’s paying.”

Santa chortles. “That’s not what I mean. I mean your holiday spirit isn’t really into this, right?”

You look back at him with an attitude. “Listen, I don’t usually talk to the Santas, so we are off to a bad start. Second, how I FEEL isn’t your business. Just smile for the kids so we can get the hell off.”

Santa chortles again, seemingly unbothered by your bluntness. “I understand the holidays aren’t for everyone, especially working with children.”

You look him over, confused by his words. “I still don’t get why you’re talking to me.”

“Oh it passes the time.”

You cross your arms in exasperation. “Well I hope you aren’t the Santa all week. Hearing the children is enough, I don’t need this too.”

“Oh I won’t be here long. It’s time!”

The clock strikes as it turns eleven o’clock. You open the velvet rope as the first child runs in on Santa. He picks him up, letting out a jolly huff and puff and asks the usual questions and getting the usual answers while you take pictures of the joy and fear of every child who visits him. This goes on for four hours until it is time to call it a day.

Santa stretches his legs as you pack up some equipment.

“Say, you did a good job today! Would you like a treat from Santa too?”

You shake your head. “I don’t like candy canes.”

Santa waves his hands. “No, I am fresh out of them anyway. Here, I think this might be what you would like.”

He pulls out an M’Baku Funko Pop from behind his back, min condition in the box. You take it from him with a scoff.

“How’d you know he’s my favorite character?” you ask suspiciously, looking over the figure.

Santa chuckles while holding his belly. “Because Santa knows many things! No matter how old, we are all children at heart and we all need someone to love in our lives.”

You put the box under your arm as you pick up your bag. “Ohhh kay. Dating advice from a mall Santa. Never thought things would get lower.”

You wave goodbye to him as he shouts Merry Christmas after you. When you get home, you kick off your shoes and fly for your bed as soon as possible. Rubbing the soft fabric of your sheets calms you as your body melts into the mattress. Before you get too comfortable though, you reach your bag on the floor and dig out the M’Baku figure again. Flipping it on the back, you notice a message that you swear wasn’t there before.

Wish for this and never will you miss

A holiday cheer from the one you hold dear

You snort out loud, flipping the toy to face you again. “I wish you were real. Big ass M’Baku himself coming in here to claim me as his Queen and make a village together.” You laugh to yourself, tossing the box haphazardly on top of the bag again before turning over for a nap.

---

As you begin to stir awake, your eyes drift open but your vision is blurry, A few blinks and you realize that a figure is knelt beside you.

“AGH!” your scream makes the stranger scream as you fall backwards off the bed in shock.

“Don’t hurt yourself! Are you ok, my Queen?”

A man stumbles before you in a grass skirt and bulky armor to take your hand. Sitting up and wide eyed, you get a full visual of the man who invoked your terror.

“M-M’Baku?” you ask quietly.

He nods. “Your love, yes. I didn't mean to startle you, but I maintained watch as you slept. We are in a strange land.”

He gets up to look out of a window as you look over at the now empty box lying on your bag. You pick it up and flip it around but the saying on the back is not there anymore.

“How do you know me?” you ask.

M’Baku looks back at you curiously. “I am your husband, don’t be playful right now. I’m trying to understand why we are here instead of Wakanda.”

You get up and go over to M’Baku, pushing your finger into his arm to check for realness. He looks down at you and smiles, taking your hand in his.

“Are you feeling more playful then I assumed, my love?”

You take your hand back, growing hot in the face. “I don’t know. I…” You think for a moment about the situation you are in and weigh out the pros and cons. Pro: a big strong handsome man is in your bedroom giving you eyes that signal he’s ready to scoop you up and lick you clean. Cons: you don’t know this man for sure and you don’t know for sure if you are planning to fuck a toy that came to life that morning.

M’Baku comes close to you, cupping the side of your face, appearing concerned. “If something is troubling you, speak. I can’t bear my wife looking apprehensive.”

You look at him, feeling your body make a choice before you can verbalize it. You take his hand and lead him toward the bed.

#m'baku x reader #shakafic #ficmas

87 notes · View notes

spaceskam · 4 years ago

Text

don’t let me die while i’m like this

a dust & ashes inspired fic that turned into simply a Pierre Bezukhov inspired fic for @matchtheminrenown that has been such a long time coming you have probably forgotten so surprise. However, if you read the warning list and want something lighter, I can absolutely do that for you lol

ao3

Warning: depression, alcohol, suicidal ideation/intrusive thoughts, car accident, I don’t know if this counts as dissociation but it’s similar, there’s a happy ending I promise

Alex was happy. Wasn't he?

His eyes drifted from the blank ceiling over to the man in bed beside him. Forrest looked peaceful, his face smushed into the pillow. Michael slept on his back, but Forrest slept on his stomach. The first few times they shared a bed, Alex would regularly make sure he was still breathing and hadn't suffocated himself on the pillow. He was always fine.

For a moment, Alex thought about rolling over and waking him up slow. He thought about starting his day with languid kisses and getting some of his morning energy through drinking in Forrest rather than coffee. But Forrest slept on his stomach and somehow waking him up while he was face down seemed too hard.

Instead, Alex grabbed his crutches and hauled himself out of bed. His mind was a little blurry and he seemed to move on autopilot rather than actual desire to start his day. He braced himself against the door of the fridge as he leaned down to get his cold brew pitcher and then reached up to grab a cup. By the time he poured half a cup, he decided a little kahlúa wouldn't hurt.

He's stirring in milk when Forrest appears, lines from the pillow case imprinted on his face. Alex remembered thinking that was cute before, but it didn't stir that same feeling in him. This must be the mundanity of having a steady relationship. He just figured it took longer than three months for that to kick in.

"Morning," Forrest said, yawning and walking past him to make his own coffee. He eyed the bottle of kahlúa, but he didn't say anything about. Or, not directly. "Are you working today?"

"Yeah," Alex said, tightening the lid on his cup and feeding the metal straw through the little hole.

"You need help?" he asked.

"No," Alex said simply.

He slid the cup to the opposite side of the counter and used his crutches to walk there. Then he grabbed the cup and leaned as far as he could to put the cup on the window sill before walking to the window. Then he leaned and moved the cup to the slightly oddly placed table in between the kitchen and living room, then to the back of the couch, then he was all good. It was a system he'd perfected.

Alex sunk into the couch and stared at the TV. He wondered if Donna Reed was on this early but couldn’t convince himself to check. Instead, he sipped on his coffee slowly, allowing himself to zone out whole waiting for his second alarm to go off. He zoned out most days lately. Alex decided it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Maybe he was struggling to be interested in anything and maybe he was on autopilot most days, but that was better than being sad. He'd choose that over sadness any day.

“Are you okay, Alex?” Forrest asked. Alex blinked a few times and saw Forrest settled into the other side of the couch. He didn’t remember him sitting there.

“Yeah,” Alex said and he meant it. He was fine. Forrest nodded slowly and settled into the couch.

Alex stared at him. He was attractive, objectively, and somewhere inside Alex found him to still be someone he liked to kiss sometimes, but waking up to him in the morning started feeling less and less like something that brought him joy. But he’d rather have someone over no one any day.

“Maybe we can have sort of a date night tonight? I’ll make dinner, we can watch a movie, eat ice cream,” Forrest suggested. Alex sipped his coffee.

“Okay.”

His second alarm went off to tell him to get ready for work just as he finished drinking his coffee. Forrest offered to clean his cup for him as he was getting up and Alex said his thanks before heading back to the bedroom. Again, he fell into autopilot as he got ready for the day. Prosthetic, brush teeth, fatigues, fix hair, stretch. He was pretty sure he’d missed a step, already not really remembering participating in it, but his toothbrush was damp and his hair was fine.

“Alex,” Forrest said cautiously as he headed towards the door, “Don’t forget your jacket.”

Sure enough, when he looked down, he’d forgotten his uniform jacket. He went back to get it.

Driving was more difficult than he remembered. His mind kept wandering to nowhere, his eyes getting distracted or unfocusing and he’d have to make sure he wasn’t speeding or going to slow or swerving into other people’s lanes. He shook his head, trying to shake away the cloudy feeling and doing his best to just focus. It wasn’t fucking working.

Alex thought about pulling over and getting more coffee to see if that would help. He thought about calling in sick so he could just stop fucking driving. He didn’t really want to deal with anyone today and this was just the icing on the cake. Could his brain get any more fucking annoying than when it didn’t want to listen?

As he approached a clogged four-way intersection and, just for a moment, not for the first time, wondered what would happen if he didn’t stop. What if he just let go of the wheel. What if he just closed his eyes. But he didn’t. He shook the thoughts along with the fog out of his mind.

His phone rang as he sat at the red light and he looked down, seeing an incoming call from Michael Guerin. Which, in itself was weird. He didn’t call. Michael Guerin kept his space from Alex, always carrying that invisible 10-foot pole to make sure he didn’t get too close. Alex had cried once about it, but he hadn’t cried in a over a week now about anything. Progress.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Alex,” Michael breathed. Alex remembered a time that used to make his whole body revive itself. “What are you doing today?”

“Work.”

“Well, what time do you get off? I need your help with something,” he said. Alex stared forward, his heart beating at a stagnant and anxiety-ridden tempo. Weeks Michael hadn’t talked to him. Weeks Michael had avoided him whenever Alex had been forced to play nice during all the bullshit he put out there. Weeks of it until Michael needed help.

And somehow Alex couldn’t even be angry.

“I’m tired,” Alex said, letting off the break as the light turned green. Michael was quiet for a second.

“Well, like, later, I mean,” Michael said awkwardly.

Alex furrowed his eyebrows as he watched a car on another side of the intersection coming in at full speed. He ignored them, expecting them to stop like most people did,

“Yeah, I--”

They didn’t.

Alex woke up with the worst headache imaginable.

“Hey,” Kyle said, looming over him with a warm smile. Alex squinted at him and closed his eyes again, trying to subdue the pain. “Are you in pain?”

“My head,” Alex groaned.

“Okay, give me one second, I’ll tell them to get you something. I would do it myself, but, you know, conflict of interest and--”

“Kyle.”

“Sorry,” he said, pausing for a moment, “I was worried about you.”

Alex sighed, opening his eyes again. Kyle had turned off the lights and closed the curtains so it was a little bit better. He sat up, his body a little sore and his head still aching, but overall he was fine.

“I’m fine,” Alex said. Kyle scoffed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, “Your car was totalled, Alex. That car smashed into your passenger side and pushed the driver’s side to smash into the car beside you. You were literally trapped in a giant metal sandwich and somehow the worst thing that happened was you hit your head. It knocked you out in time to make your body completely relax and I’m pretty sure that’s what saved you from worse damage and they’re keeping you on watch just in case you have a brain bleed we didn’t see in the first scan, but that was some miracle shit, Alex.”

Alex’s eyes widened and he looked down at himself. He didn’t even see a scratch. What the hell?

“You scared the shit out of all of us,” Kyle said, reaching out to gently rub his thumb over what was probably a massive bump on the side of his forehead. Alex swallowed hard as guilt filled his system. Yeah, this wasn’t his fault, but it very well could’ve been. “Guerin called us freaking out.”

“Is he here?” Alex asked. Kyle nodded.

“Everyone is, but I told them to give you some space first because I figured you wouldn’t react well to a room full of people.”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed, licking his lips. Kyle still had that grim little look on his face, still touching the bump on his head.

“When he called saying something happened to you, my mind jumped to... just not good places,” he admitted, meeting Alex’s eyes, “Are you okay, Alex? Something has been going on with you and I guess I didn’t realize just how many warning signs you’ve been giving off until I heard you were hurt and I immediately assumed you did it to yourself. I’ve been a shitty friend and I’m gonna be there for you more.”

“You’re not a shitty friend,” Alex said. Kyle rolled his eyes, his hand dropping down a little to rest on the side of Alex’s neck.

“I noticed there was something wrong and I didn’t talk to you. I’m talking to you now and I’m not going back. So, tell me, are you okay? Is this a good excuse to look into adjusting medication or something? Tell me what’s going on or what you need and let me help because I never want to feel like I did when I got that call, okay?” Kyle said. Alex nodded easily and moved in for a hug.

Kyle clung onto him as tight as his body would allow and Alex reveled in it. It seemed to be the first time in awhile he actually felt something. It made Alex realize that maybe numb wasn’t better than sadness after all.

How long had he spent just allowing things to happen? When did he go from bad to worse? He couldn’t remember. Well, fuck that. He’d survived something that should’ve killed him. This was his second chance. Or, third chance. Fourth chance? It didn’t matter. He’d gotten out unscathed and he was thankful. He didn’t want to die when he couldn’t feel anything and didn’t have the things he wanted. He wanted to feel something, everything. He was ready to force himself out of his rut.

Alex squeezed Kyle and pulled back a little, resting the non-bumped side of his head against Kyle’s. Despite the tears in the doctor’s eyes, he smiled right back at him.

“I’ve been a little numb lately,” Alex admitted, “But I’m done with that. Done wasting my life being numb. I’m going to do good things. Marie Kondo my way through life. Does it bring me joy? No, so we change it. Starting with Forrest.”

“Whoa, what?” Kyle asked, pulling back, “You’re gonna dump Forrest?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed. Saying it out loud made him feel even better. He was putting in effort, moving forward. It felt good. “I almost died and, if I had, I would’ve been in a relationship with someone who doesn’t really inspire me to feel something. He’s a great guy, I just need something...”

“More like Guerin?” Kyle guessed. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Fuck Guerin. If he wants me, he can fight for me,” Alex decided, “But yes.”

Kyle laughed and let his hands fall off of Alex.

“Well, whatever you want to do, I’m here for you,” Kyle said, “And if you’re ever feeling numb like that, just tell me. I know you probably think no one cares, but we do. I do. I’m here to listen. I love you, man, and I want you around as long as possible.”

“I love you too,” Alex said.

It was the first time in a long time he’d said those words to anyone, romantic or platonic. He quite liked that it was Kyle who got to hear them. It made him smile. It made him feel good. He was never going back to feeling numb. He was going to do whatever he could to keep this feeling in tact.

“Now when can I leave?”

Alex was happy. Wasn’t he?

His eyes drifted from the blank ceiling over to the empty space in bed beside him. It’d been a week since he broke up with Forrest. He’d taken it well enough, he said that he’d seen in coming and would like to be friends, but he needed a little space and Alex agreed happily.

And he’d been happy. He didn’t have a concussion, he bought a new car, he went to work ready for the day, he went for drinks with Kyle, he went through files with Michael again (after an apology, of course). He was doing better, so much better he didn’t even need to take his meds anymore. Or, he thought so.

Today he was back to feeling rough. He’d been doing his damnedest to get out of bed and he was struggling. He knew a bad day would come eventually, but so soon? Did he have to plummet so soon? He was trying so hard.

Tears sprung to his eyes and he took a deep breath, willing them away. No. He refused. He was going to be happy. He was moving forward.

He forced himself to get out of bed and it helped when he didn’t think about it. And he moved to the kitchen to make his coffee, shutting his brain down as he allowed himself to swing back into autopilot. It was easier that way.

His phone rang as he sat on the couch and he sighed, answering it without looking.

“Hey,” Michael said on the other end. For a little while after his wreck, Michael’s voice had brought him so much happiness. They would look over files, tease each other, laugh. Two days ago, they play fought and ended up a giggling mess like they were teenagers. Two days ago. How had he ricocheted so quickly? Because today the sweet sound of his voice drained Alex of his energy.

“What?” Alex asked, swirling his coffee. He couldn’t finish it. It was half empty and he couldn’t finish it.

“You wanna come have breakfast? I can make omelets and some coffee, we can watch a little Donna Reed,” Michael offered, that tone in his voice that was usually a little tempting. Alex wanted to want to go, but he was tired and had more important things to handle.

“I have work,” Alex said.

“Tomorrow then?” Michael suggested, still not dissuaded.

“I’m tired.”

Michael was silent for a few seconds, drawing it out as long as possible. It started to make Alex feel a little sick. He wanted to apologize and say he would come in the morning even though he didn’t want to. Before he could, though, Michael started talking again.

“Okay,” Michael agreed, “Okay, yeah, that’s fine. Get some rest and I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

Alex held his phone to his ear long after Michael hung up.

Kyle was standing by Alex’s new car when he got off of work.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asked. He was too tired to deal with this right now. He just wanted to go home and crawl into bed and stay there for a few years.

Kyle held up Alex’s weekly pill box. He stared blankly at it, not really understanding how or why he had them. Kyle shook his head and held them out alongside a bottle of water.

“Michael called me, said something was up. You can imagine my surprise when I saw you picked around your antidepressants the last week,” he said. Alex stared at him and reluctantly accepted the offering. “You can’t just go off them, Alex.”

“I was doing fine,” Alex said, reluctantly fishing the pill out of the little compartment.

“Yeah, because you were taking them and because you were riding that high,” Kyle said. Alex shrugged, staring at the pill in his palm. Was it normal to stare at it and feel like failing? Tears burned in his eyes and he blinked them away. Kyle’s boots crunched against the ground as he stepped into Alex’s space. “It’s normal to have good days and bad days, okay? Don’t beat yourself up.”

“I thought I was better,” Alex said, shaking his head as a new wave of tears hit him, “I mean I’ve been doing my best to make myself happy, but nothing’s working. I don’t understand why I’m like this.”

“Alex,” Kyle said, his hand gently gripping Alex’s chin and making him look at him, “This shit isn’t a linear process. You are doing better. The way you’re feeling right now? Yeah, sure, it’s worse than you were a couple days ago, but is it worse than you were three weeks ago?”

“I don’t even remember three weeks ago.”

“That proves my point,” Kyle insisted, “Just take the pill and let’s go home, okay?”

Reluctantly, Alex did what he said and let Kyle pull him into a hug. It wasn’t as uplifting as the last hug Kyle gave him felt, but it was as strong and stable as always. Alex loved him for it.

They made an appointment to see a therapist on the way home.

Alex was content.

His eyes drifted from the blank ceiling over to the man in bed beside him. Kyle slept on his side with his mouth open and his arms and legs splayed out like a starfish. He took up most of the bed and Alex had woken up more than once because Kyle had unintentionally pushed him to the edge. Alex would kick him until he either moved or woke up with a whiny ‘why are you kicking me?’. It’d be funny if it wasn’t annoying.

This wasn’t a permanent arrangement, but it was one that, all sleeping habits aside, Alex appreciated. It took him a little while to accept that maybe having someone around him to be a rock before he could be his own was important. Alex had spent so much time thinking he needed to be self-sufficient that he hadn’t realized how important a good support system was. And Kyle was one hell of a support system.

On days when Alex felt good, he was there to remind him he still needed to take his medication and still needed to go to therapy because that’s how you stayed feeling good. Whenever he was feeling bad, Kyle would manage to find that perfect balance between babying him through it and getting him to cope on his own. It kept him from shutting down while still allowing him to process it. On days that were in the middle, Kyle was still just there and his friend. He liked it.

There was also just a lot of understanding that being content most days in life wasn’t a failure, it was the goal. No one could be happy every day. Content was okay. It was better than being numb. Anything was better than being numb.

Alex didn’t get out of bed until there was knocking at the door. He didn’t groan or have to battle with himself if he should just ignore it, he simply got up and went to the door. He didn’t have to think about it. Progress.

When he opened it, Michael Guerin was standing there with grocery bags.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asked. He hid the fact that he was happy to see him. They weren’t together, but they were working on navigating what that could one day be like. Communication and dedicating time to each other were two of their most important things right now.

“I’m making you breakfast. Well, us and Kyle breakfast. Omelets and coffee,” Michael said, pushing his way through, “And guess what I brought?”

“What?” Alex asked, following him into the kitchen. Michael dug through one of the grocery bags before holding up a CD.

“Season 1 of The Donna Reed Show was in the discount bin for $3. Now you have your own copy,” Michael said, flashing a smile. Alex smiled right back, sitting down at the counter.

“Thank you,” he said.

“No problem,” Michael said, turning back to find a pan to start cooking with.

It wasn’t long before Kyle got up as well and Michael poured him a cup of coffee. It was nice having them both here. No animosity, no jealousy, they were just there for no reason. No reason other than that they wanted to. Because they liked being around him and they loved him. This was contentment. This was the goal. Michael at the stove and complaining at Kyle for putting too much shit into his coffee. It felt like home.

And, although he wasn’t in the best of moods, Alex smiled.

#alex manes fic #kylex brotp #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #kyle valenti #rnm fic #my fic #no hate to forrest #full hate to myself because i'm gonna be late for work becuase i wanted to finish this lol

70 notes · View notes

voidstilesplease · 4 years ago

Text

philia

steo + the types of love

Climbing up a tree to get to someone's window is not only a TV drama situation. It's a very real-life thing because Theo is doing it right now. He considered the throwing-pebbles-on-window scene, but he only wants to get the attention of one person who is preferably not the Sheriff.

So, he scales the branches with his backpack and skateboard slung on his back. It takes him longer than he wishes, but it's not as bad as he assumed. He's done rock climbing with his sister but not for leisure. Their parents shoved them to do different activities, so they could find hobbies and something they'll be good at that are not the stupid ones they're interested in doing - skating in Theo's case. At least, his body pain is now worth it.

He reaches the window and peers inside the darkened room. It's not entirely dim because the harsh light from the computer is gleaming, and Stiles is perched on his chair, reading from the screen. Theo's not the only one up past his bedtime. He raps twice, softly, but it still startles Stiles.

The boy, wide-eyed, whips his head to the source of the noise. He looks shocked first, then angry, then confused. He shots to his feet and lifts the glass open to admit Theo. The boy pokes his head outside to check the empty street for nosy neighbors and then turns to him.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, whispering.

Theo sets his bag and board on the floor. He gestures on the bed, "Can I sit?" he pants, exhausted. After getting off the bus, he skated the rest of the way to the Stilinskis.

Stiles waves a hand that Theo translates as permission, so he lowers himself and sighs when he settles on the mattress. Stiles is still waiting expectantly.

Now that his adrenaline is waning, he looks at Stiles and doesn't feel so sure anymore. What is he doing there? At the time, it felt like the wisest decision, but now, facing this boy he doesn't even talk to at school, the whole circumstance comes off as odd and unexpected.

He hesitates, but he's so tired he can't go out and then go to Josh's. Why didn't he think of Josh, his actual friend, in the first place? So, he opts for some truth. "I just need a place to stay the night."

"Okay," Stiles frowns. "But why?"

Theo reaches for his backpack again and motions to stand. Stiles quickly halts him with flailing hands. "Woah, woah. I'm not throwing you out. I'm just surprised, you know?"

Theo eases and lets the bag drop again. He sighs, "I know this is unusual. It's just," he searches for a logical explanation. There isn't one. "This is the first place that came to mind."

Stiles only nods and doesn't push the question. They stay like that for a moment, Theo sitting and averting his eyes, while the other boy stands, studying him. Finally, Stiles straightens. "Well, do you want some hot chocolate?"

Five minutes later, Stiles comes back from the kitchen with a steaming mug of chocolate. He lowers it on the nightstand carefully, but a few still managed to spill. He pulls his desk chair and sits down, facing Theo.

Theo takes a tentative sip, "Thanks," he places it back on the ring of stain on the table. "Do you usually have hot chocolate at the ready?"

"Nah, I just had one myself before you came," Stiles shrugs, looking down at the floor. He bites his lip before adding, "I have a hard time sleeping. Mom usually makes them for me, but she's at the hospital, so." He trails off, fingers playing with the loose threads of the fabric of his worn chair.

Theo's heard about it. The Sheriff's wife is in the hospital, so he had to bring his son to the police station the entire summer. She's been there for a while. That's why he sees Stiles when officers bring him in whenever he causes trouble in the town.

At first, Theo complained about his unceasing chattering. There's a reason why they don't mingle at school, but Stiles chose to ignore that and insisted on talking off Theo's ears the first few times he got escorted. He never ran out of things to say, so the next few times he caused trouble and landed his ass in the Sheriff's office, he grudgingly conceded defeat and listened as the boy prattled continuously. Theo even grunted in response sometimes. A few times, the McCall kid was also around, and those were when Stiles talked less to him and more to his friend. Theo still listened, though.

The last time, a deputy herded him in for starting a fight in the grocery and destroying a few products. His head was down, waiting for his parents to collect him and give him another lecture on his disgusting behavior. The door of the office opened, Theo expecting to see the contempt in his mother's face, but it was Stiles that came through. He handed Theo a glazed donut and smirked, "The shiner on Jackson's face," he giggled. "was precious. I say, he deserved it. He has to get down from his high horse, sometimes."

Theo stared at the space Stiles vacated when the boy quickly went back out and laughed.

So, it's most likely why he's here.

He finds himself admitting: "I ran away."

Stiles raises an eyebrow and glances at the heap on his floor. "I figured."

"They want us to move," Theo resumes. He doesn't know where this urge to tell Stiles is coming from, but it feels good. It feels right to talk for once. "My parents got promoted to an office on the East Coast, and they want us to move there. I had a shouting match with them and Tara, so I just ran."

Stiles nods, "I think I understand. But they'll be worried about you,"

Theo snorts derisively, "They won't. They hate me for being a delinquent."

"If they hate you, they wouldn't have come to get you from the station every time." Stiles reasons.

"It's 'cause they'd look bad if they left me,"

Stiles shrugs, "Maybe. But they're still your family."

Theo shakes his head and dips his head down. "If you're going to rat me out to the Sheriff, at least, give me a running head start. I don't want to go to the East," he insists.

"So, what? You're just going to keep running?"

"If I have to,"

"Then, that means you're still moving away. The downside is: you'll be homeless." He points out. "Can you imagine where an eleven-year-old-"

"I'm twelve,"

"Homeless boy goes to survive?" He raises his hand and starts counting with his fingers. "One: a gang who sells drugs. Two: a gang that sells children. Three: a gang who exploits children. Four-"

Theo interrupts, rolling his eyes. "There are many non-gang ways to survive,"

"That's the point!" Stiles's hands flail. "You're too young to resign on getting by. You can be living the time of your life wherever you're moving, but you won't experience it because you think your parents are doing this to spite you."

He scowls, pursing his lips.

"What I'm saying is, they're not always out to get you even though that's how it feels," Stiles gives him a soft look. "If my mom wants us to move to the North Pole, I'll pack in a second. As it is, she can't even get up the bed."

They're silent for a while. Theo hates that he drove Stiles to speak of his sick mother. Now, he looks unhappy. He's never seen Stiles sad before. He's always a ball of positive energy, and this makes Theo guilty. Much more, because he also sees his point.

"I'm sorry,"

Stiles looks up, "You don't have to say sorry. I like talking about my mom. It's only that nowadays when I do, people think I'm going to break down."

Silence settles between them again, but it's less awkward. Theo finishes the chocolate drink and thanks Stiles once more. Wordlessly, Stiles climbs onto the bed after shutting his computer on one side and lays on his back. Theo does the same, and they both stare at the ceiling of Stiles's room.

Theo breaks it first, "I'll go home in the morning."

He's not sure if Stiles heard it or if he's even still awake because he doesn't say anything for some time. Even so, Theo speaks again.

"I appreciate that you did this," he says. He doesn't know how many times he's expressed his gratitude this evening and meant it. He finishes wistfully. "Even though we're not friends." They could've been. Scott is lucky to have him as a best friend.

He's nodding off when he hears Stiles's reply.

"It doesn't matter if I'm not your friend," Stiles tells him in the darkness, voice a little rough. "You are to me."

Theo smiles, the first one in a while, and closes his eyes.

~.~

affectionate love: a love that runs deep in true friendships. The love without romantic attraction and occurs between friends or family members. (catalyst: mind)

#steo #steo au #steo fic #steo ficlet #types of love au #part 1 #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #teen wolf #fics tag

33 notes · View notes

mst3kproject · 4 years ago

Photo

The Atomic Submarine

I’ve had this one sitting around for a while. It’s a pretty dull 1950’s White Men vs the Saucer People movie, which attempts to differentiate itself from the crowd by taking place underwater instead of in outer space. It features Brett Halsey from The Girl in Lover’s Lane and a few moments of Jean Moorhead from The Violent Years, and has parts for Jack Mulhall and Paul Dubov from The She-Creature.

It is… the future. The US and the USSR are friends now, and passenger submarines regularly run between the two under the polar ice! But all is not well – the USS Sturgeon, largest of this arctic fleet, suffers a reactor meltdown somewhere just shy of the North Pole, resulting in the loss of all hands. The Pentagon convenes some guys in suits, and decides to send another submarine, the Tiger Shark, to figure out what happened. When the Tiger Shark encounters a mysterious electrical phenomenon, their scientists conclude that the only possible answer is creatures from outer space!

I seem to be making a tradition out of starting with the shitty science, so here’s a good one: the Flying Saucer’s source of power is stated to be magnetic – that’s why it has to return to the North Pole every time it sinks a ship, to recharge. Except… that’s not how the magnetic field works. In the late fifties and early sixties, the north magnetic pole was somewhere near the southern end of Bathurst Island in Nunavut (as of 2020, it’s on its way into Siberia and is actually closer to geographic north than it’s been in centuries). Sailors would definitely know that, making this plot point kind of hilarious to anybody actually in the navy.

I mentioned Moorhead… she and Joi Lansing (who was once in a movie called Queen of Outer Space) are the only women in the entire movie. They occur in the same scene, which seems to serve only to remind us that women exist, and have no effect on the plot whatsoever. Once we’ve entered the submarine where most of the film is set, the cast is entirely similar-looking guys in uniforms, and there are no romantic reunions at the end. The Atomic Submarine couldn’t even give us the requisite 50’s movie Cute Girl Scientist. I guess they were going for realism in their story about trans-arctic Soviet passenger subs and one-eyed semi-aquatic aliens.

On to the actual movie. The first ‘character’ we hear from is the deep-voiced 50’s narrator, who sounds exactly like the guy rhapsodizing about radar at the beginning of The Deadly Mantis, but I looked him up and Patrick Michaels has never narrated any other movie. I guess there’s just a category of men that have 50’s Movie Narrator Voice. His job is to sound portentous as he talks about things that are either irrelevant or else stuff the movie could have showed us but chose to tell instead. He falls silent for long stretches of movie and then pops up again, interrupting the flow of the story every time.

The special effects in The Atomic Submarine are okay – they’re nothing ground-breaking, but considerable effort seems to have gone into them. The saucer and the submarines are obviously small models but they’re nice and the underwater photography is quite atmospheric. I especially like the little submersible the Tiger Shark carries, the Lungfish, which was clearly designed based on ideas for such machines that were in the works at the time. There’s a shot of the saucer breaking through the ice cap and rising into the air which looks really good until the saucer itself actually emerges, wobbling on top of a rod. The one-eyed alien inside the saucer is nice and gooey and parts of it look like they’re made out of living sea creatures.

Like many movies on MST3K, The Atomic Submarine has some germs of good ideas in it, and like the rest of them, fails to do anything much with it. The flying saucer – maybe we should call it a swimming saucer – is described as a living organism, possibly the same organism as its pilot. The aliens themselves are biological engineers who will use humans as a template for altering themselves to live on Earth. That’s pretty cool, but is ultimately not important to the plot. Besides the pilot, who seems to have been assembled by a variety of marine organisms, the inside of the saucer doesn’t look particularly organic. If nothing else they had an opportunity for some really neat visuals here, but let it slip through their fingers.

The alien intelligence remains unseen and inscrutable for much of the movie. This theoretically builds suspense but there’s honestly not a lot of suspense here. A plot summary makes The Atomic Submarine sound like an exciting adventure, but the impression one gets from actually watching the film is that it’s kind of a day at the office. In a way, that’s fairly realistic – the crew of the Tiger Shark aren’t a ragtag group of misfits, they’re professionals doing their jobs which just so happen on this particular day to include saving the world. Unfortunately, this doesn’t make for a very exciting movie. An awful lot of scenes are just suspenseful music over footage of men in uniforms frowning at things. Rather than feeling any excitement, the audience just wants to get to the damn aliens already.

The movie’s only about half over by the time we do enter the swimming saucer to meet the one-eyed, tentacled beast within, but it feels like we’ve been here for hours. Once the boarding party enters the craft, some things do happen but they’re still not exciting. Three of the four men die, one by being cut in half by a sliding door and two getting melted by intense radiation – these deaths are surprisingly explicit and gruesome for a 50’s movie, but they’re drawn out far too long and don’t serve a plot purpose. If the alien killed the men to stop them cutting the Tiger Shark free of where it rammed the vessel’s hull, that would be one thing, but it appears to do it just because.

The main characters all sort of look the same, as lumpy-faced white guys in old movies tend to do. The only one who really stands out from the crowd is Dr. Nielson, the son of the scientist who invented the Lungfish and an avowed pacifist who’s only on this mission because he knows his father wanted to see the sub used. He has a running beef with an old friend of his father’s who thinks he’s a coward, all talk and no action. This is supposed to be the movie’s main arc and yet it fails to go anywhere on just about every level.

Neilson spends much of the movie insisting that he isn’t a coward, which one would assume is a lead-up to him doing something heroic. It’s not. He’s just here to drive the Lungfish and that’s literally the only thing he does – he takes the boarding party to the saucer, and then sits there and waits for the sole survivor to return. There’s a bit where the captain of the Tiger Shark decides to ram the saucer with the sub in order to get through its defenses, and Neilson speaks up, pointing out that this is a suicide mission. Nothing ever comes of this, and it might be evidence of his ‘cowardice’ but I’m not sure… the movie is not nearly as interested in his character as it ought to be. At the end he seems to have decided that war is cool after all… or maybe the guy he was arguing about has agreed that we need to set aside war with other humans in order to focus on war with aliens. It’s very unclear.

If there’s a regular passenger service between Alaska and Siberia, doesn’t that suggest that in this future we’ve already set aside war with other humans? I’m not sure this movie thought very hard about its worldbuilding.

In fact, watching the ending I don’t even know if the guy Neilson talks to at the end was the same man he was arguing with earlier, because, as I mentioned, the actors all look similar. Until that final conversation I thought the other dude had died aboard the saucer and honestly I’m still not convinced he didn’t. What mainly makes me doubt the idea is that it would mean there’s no closure to the feud at all, which would be the height of poor writing. I’ve seen movies where I would buy that they were just that careless, but other aspects of The Atomic Submarine are competent enough that I want to give them the benefit of the doubt.

So what does this movie want us to think about war and the military? It certainly suggests that they’re necessary, since after all we have aliens to defend ourselves from. One of the scientists on board is British and another has what I think is supposed to be a Russian accent, so perhaps its extolling the virtues of international cooperation. This would fit with Neilson’s statements about how we need to leave war behind, but if that’s the movie’s point it hobbles itself by never talking about it in that light.

This is all made that much more annoying because, as I said, the effects are decent, the cinematography is pretty good, and while none of the actors are stellar they all do their best. There’s no real reason why The Atomic Submarine had to be so dull and messy, unless they were just saddled with a half-assed script. Even then, they made a pretty good effort to get some gold out of the dross. You might find The Atomic Submarine worth watching even if only to think about what might have been.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the atomic submarine #50s

18 notes · View notes

achtung-attitude · 4 years ago

Photo

CHAPTER 36: Weezer - Part 1

From his porch on Mulholland Drive, All-Kill sits, looking out across Los Angeles. The view is beautiful at night, but on this particular morning, it looks muggy and uncomfortable. “Yeon-in,” he calls.

At his summons, the wolf appears with a bottle of Korean soju held in its jaws. With surprising dexterity, it places the bottle on a small table next to its master. All-Kill pets his companion between the ears, then unscrews the cap, pouring the rice wine into a small glass and sipping from it.

“Little early for that, isn’t it?” T’onga says, stepping out of the house and standing behind the chair.

“I’m in a celebratory mood… Have you taken care of everything? The stragglers and loose ends?” the boss replies, keeping his eyes on the view.

“Yeah. Of course,” she says numbly.

“Good. Then the time to strike is now. Go to where Dust is and use HOUSE OF PAIN to eliminate him. No matter what you say or what it takes, do that above all else. It makes no difference what kind of ability Dust has. Once you get him into the room, he’s no match for you. I have every confidence. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve already won.” He punctuates his statement with another sip of soju and a smile.

“Right… Where’s Sang-ok?” T’onga asks.

“At his apartment. I’ll call him over when you’re done.”

“…And Sumni?”

At the mention of this name, there is a long pause between the two, as All-Kill places his glass down. “…She’s on standby, as usual. Why? What difference does it make?”

“Oh… it doesn’t. I was just wondering where everybody was. See you later, boss…” she turns a leaves, stepping back inside the house. All-Kill turns his head and keeps his eye on her until she leaves his sight. The wolf at his feet whines softly.

“Anaheim…” he mutters, and nothing more.

---

The Anaheim Convention Center and Arena! One of the largest gathering spots in all of Southern California, a stone’s throw away from the famous Disneyland, home to every sort of convention for every sort of event, from company-wide get-togethers, to the biggest sporting event, down to the most niche of fan conventions. And this time of year, it's home to the one and only...

TubeCon, the world’s convention for the no. 1 video-sharing network, VidTube! Here, everyone from video bloggers, pranksters, game streamers and the ever underappreciated animators gather to engage with their fans and celebrate their work.

They mill about like termites, some old, but most young, moving between stall after stall, buying merch, taking selfies. Among them are content creators, many of whom film themselves on their phones. Their voices can be heard clearly over the general din.

“EY ITS UR BOY MERCINATOR MEETING UP WITH SOME FANS!!!”

“EY WHAT UP GUYS IT'S YO BOY RATMATT HERE AT TUBECON!!!”

“WE'RE THE SLY BROTHERS AND WE'RE HERE AT TUBECON TO GET PEOPLE'S REACTIONS TO MEETING US!!!”

At the far end of the auditorium, three men in their thirties play video games on a couch under the scrutiny of over a hundred people.

“Julio,” one demands of his bearded companion, “would you rather eat a man or acquire a nice tan?”

“I don’t… What kind of question is that, Neil?” Julio splutters.

“Julio, answer the question!” demands the third.

“What is this place...?” Kilo mutters, taking in the atmosphere with distaste, having found himself and his friends beckoned here.

“This is probably what Hell looks like,” Moya remarks, with a thousand-yard stare. In the midst of this controlled chaos, she and Kilo stand protectively between Shizuka, who stares doe-eyed into the crowd, searching for something. For someone. Frowning, she reaches into her inside pocket and pulls out the message for the hundredth time.

I WILL MEET YOU AT ANAHEIM and a drawing of an impossible triangle, written in permanent marker, and three tickets to this very convention. Nothing else was in the envelope delivered to Jerome’s mansion. Shizuka turns the message around, but all she sees on the back is the marker ink bleeding through the paper.

“Whoever it was that sent that letter…” Kilo grumbles, peering over her shoulder at it, “ least they could’ve done is be a little more specific. So what now, cop?” he turns to Moya, “We just supposed to stand around here, waitin’ for somebody to walk up on us?”

“This is our best move,” Moya replies, squinting suspiciously into the crowd, “For now, we have to assume the worst and that this is a Congregation trap. They’ve been one step ahead of us this whole time, and even now they still have the advantage. But waiting around in C-King’s house won’t get us any closer to stopping them, so we may as well take the chance and handle what comes of it. And besides… if T’onga really did send that message, then I don’t know when we’ll get another chance to get this close to her. No matter what happens, we can’t get separated. As long as we stick together, I’m confident we can take anything that comes our way!”

“Hrrmh… I hope you’re right…” Kilo says. Shizuka says nothing during this exchange, but looks up from the letter, glaring resolutely.

“HEY, YOU GUYS!!” shouts a loud, raucous cry, directed at the three of them. Immediately, SATURN BARZ and WITCH MOUNTAIN come out, only to recede soon after. A man in his late 20s wearing mirror-shades suddenly stands right in front of Shizuka.

With painfully artificial exuberance, the man in sunglasses shouts, “You’re next in line, huh, bros?! Great!! Don’t be shy, I always have time for fans! Here, lemme get that for you!” He says, taking the paper from Shizuka’s hand.

“Ah…! Hey, wait…!!” she starts, but the guy soons hands it back to her, but not before scrawling chicken scratch on the back in red ink.

“Who the fuck is this…?” Kilo mutters. He then glances behind him and notices for the first time a line has formed behind them, composed of teenage girls and boys, the eldest surely no older than 14. Without moving from their spot, the trio appear to have become part of an autograph line.

“Now you got your autograph, how about a selfie?!” the shaded vlogger announces to Shizuka, already pulling out a smartphone and attaching it to a telescopic pole. “It’ll be legit, for real! You’re bound to get a ton of likes on your feed once people see me on it!”

“Ah… N-no, thanks,” Shizuka responds, taken aback, “I’m kind… of waiting for-”

“Come on, honey, no need to be shy!” he announces again, sidling up beside her with his selfie stick raised over them, “You’re talking a major boost in online cred if you get seen with me! I’m kind of a big deal on YouTube, in case you didn’t know!” Bearing over her, he reaches a hand across her shoulders, “And hey, if we hang out a little more, maybe I can give you a few tips on how to get your own channel started! I could send a few early subscribers your way, if you do me a couple favors. What do you sGGLKH!!”

He chokes, his tongue lolling out as Moya lifts him, one-handed, by the back of his t-shirt collar. Kilo, meanwhile, grabs the selfie stick out of his hand, breaks it in half over his knee, then pitches the phone to the other side of the auditorium. The teenagers in the line behind them gasp. Moya drops him, and they and Shizuka moves away from him, stepping around him like garbage.

“H-Hey! Wait up!!” The vlogger shouts, rubbing his neck and beginning to pursue them, “Hey! You guys! Who do you fuckin’ think you are?! Hey, I said--!!” Kilo and Moya turn at once, fixing him with furious expressions. “Yeah, what?”, they say at the same time.

The vlogger appears to forget how to speak for a moment. Then he scurries off to retrieve his phone, shouting back, “My followers are gonna hear about this, you hear me?!”

Shizuka hardly notices his departure, merely brushing lint off her shoulder. Kilo and Moya exchange a concerned glance.

---

The vlogger weaves his way through the crowd, eventually finding his phone lying on the ground with a cracked screen. Upon sight, he rushes to retrieve it, but crashes into a tall man in a hoodie from behind. “Hey! Watch where you’re going, jackass!” he berates before stooping to pick up his phone. The guy in the hoodie slouches, removing his earbuds from his ears and scratching his oversized afro.

Before the vlogger stands back up, he starts wheezing. He manages to release a few choked coughs, which go unnoticed by anyone, before his neck and face begin to swell up like a balloon and his face turns a shade of pale blue.

“Anaphylactic shock, huh? Nasty...” says Toto, and nothing more. By the time he finishes his remark, the vlogger is already dead and he has lost all interest in him. He peers over the crowd. His eyes fall upon the trio, then he slides himself into the back corridors.

Without a care in the world, he strides through the service hallways, eventually coming to the security control center. He opens the door with a stolen clearance card and enters the room, shutting the door behind him. Two dead security guards are propped up against the wall, their faces blotchy and swollen. Toto sits down at the surveillance desk and finds the trio on one of the monitors.

“They’re clinging to each other like…” he mutters to himself, keeping them in sight at all times. “Like… Like, uh… Liiiike… Oh! Like tar and feathers! … No, no, not like that, not like tar and feathers, more like…” he stops abruptly and furrows his brow deeply, searching for the correct analogy. “Flies on hot shit? No, no… Oh, yeah! Like atomic particles! Two little electrons orbiting around a neutron/proton center! That’s perfect!” He smiles, delighted. Then his smile drops.

“Wait, hold on, if the three of them are an atom, then wouldn’t splitting them up be totally bad?” he mutters, beads of sweat suddenly appearing on his forehead, “When you split an atom up, you get nuclear fusion, in other words a big fuckass huge explosion…! Applyin’ that here… Dust wanted me to separate the Joestar princess from her friends, but what if that’s a bad idea…?! What if the best bet is to take ‘em all here and now, together…?! No no no, fighting ‘em all at once is no good either, their abilities are too strong…!

“Aaagh, did I do enough, did I miss anything?! I been here for an hour and I made sure to touch as many people as I could, but what if it ain’t enough?! What if all the people I came into contact left already?! Uuuurghh…!!” he frets manically over this, pinching his temples as his thoughts race. Then at last he freezes, and his relaxed posture returns.

“Don’t be stupid,” he admonishes himself, “It’s just an expression, they ain’t really atoms. They just people. Caught in the flow of fate, just like everybody. Does no good to worry over how things’ll turn out. Split ‘em up, cram ‘em together… It’s all the same at the End of Time…” Fully calmed down, he reaches for the microphone and leans into it.

Affecting an officious, professional tone, he speaks into the PA, “Attention, all convention-goers, attention all convention-goers. The Paulie Paul panel event will be commencing in ten minutes. Please proceed to the cordoned area in Hall D in an orderly fashion. Thank you.” Finished, he watches with satisfaction at the silent stampede that begins, which slams into the trio, tearing them apart.

He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a pre-rolled spliff. He regards it for a moment, taking in the herbal scent, before shaking his head. “No, no… No time. Gotta work…” he says, getting up and leaving the security office, heading for the exhibit halls.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #achtung attitude #shizuka joestar #kilo staples #moya pezzente #toto #ch36

7 notes · View notes

fracturedmotivationwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The battle was won, but Dexter knew this wasn't the end of the war. Gio and Mimi would attack again. They weren't going to let one battle loss deter them.

They may have lost the battle, but they had still managed to kill twenty sentries and injure many others. Twenty dead. Twenty young sentries that Dexter had failed to protect.

She knew, logically, that this wasn't all on her. She couldn't have stopped Gio and Mimi from attacking. But she couldn't help but feel responsible for the deaths or the injured.

Luca had checked everyone's injuries after the battle ended, deciding who needed immediate medical attention and who could stitch themselves back up at the packhouse. He'd taken the severely injured to the hospital. He had wanted Dexter to come too, but he'd known it was a losing fight with her. She promised to let him check her for a concussion at home.

She'd already sent the others to the packhouse, opting to stay behind debrief the soldiers who would be taking over border patrol for the rest of the night. She didn't think Gio and Mimi would try again so soon, but she couldn't be certain. And with so many injured sentries, she didn't have enough to properly defend the borders anyway. They all needed a night to recuperate before she gave them new schedules, new routes, and new orders. She was going to have to change a lot of their defenses now, but that would come in the morning. She needed to meet with Frankie first. The soldiers could hold down the fort so to speak in the meantime.

Dexter was headed towards the packhouse, wanting to confirm that everyone else was okay and didn't need to go to the hospital. Along her way, however, she spotted one of the young sentries leaning heavily against a streetlight. Approaching slowly, Dexter could see the sentry gripping her side as if she was in pain.

"Angelina? Are you okay?" Dexter asked, concern filling her voice. She could see a bit of blood seeping through the girl's shirt, but it didn't appear to be gushing. Hopefully, it wasn't a deep wound.

"I- I thought I was fine," Angelina murmured, avoiding Dexter's worried eyes. "But my side started to hurt and then I noticed the blood."

Dexter stepped closer, gently reaching a hand out to the sentry's arm. As soon as she did, however, Angelina straightened up. If not for her concussion, Dexter probably would have reacted sooner to Angelina's change of demeanor. But her head was a bit fuzzy, so by the time she tried to step back Angelina was already shoving a needle into her neck. Dexter tried to fight her off, but her movements were slow and clumsy. Her limbs felt like they weight thirty pounds each, and her eyelids involuntarily started to close. Dexter felt her body slumping forward as she tried to swing a punch at Angelina, but the other girl easily used the momentum to toss Dexter over her shoulder.

"And they told me you would be hard to capture." Dexter overheard the girl snickering. Dexter was too far gone to respond. Sleep overcame her.

****

The dull ache in her head was the first thing she felt. Next was the soreness in her neck and the sharp pain in her shoulder.

Dexter blinked her eyes open, squinting for a moment to adjust to the harshly bright lights. In addition to the ache, her head felt fuzzy. She tried to lift her hand to rub her eyes but nearly screamed at the pain. Her hands were cuffed behind her, and apparently, someone had stabbed her shoulder. Meaning that when she tried to move and was immediately pulled back by the handcuffs, her shoulder screamed in agony.

Her muffled cry, however, drew the attention of someone upstairs. She heard the sound of footsteps above her, the panic settling in her chest and clearing her head a bit. She quickly took in her surroundings, trying to find a way out of these cuffs and out of here. She appeared to be in a basement, handcuffed to a pole running from the ground to the ceiling. There wasn't much down here, except for a wooden chair in front of her and a single lightbulb hanging. She felt like she was in a horror film.

She couldn't see the stairs, but she heard someone descending them behind her. Schooling her fear, Dexter leaned against the pole and tried to appear as the definition of calm.

Kind of hard to do sitting on a basement floor, handcuffed and concussed with seemingly no way out.

The woman stepped around her, coming into Dexter's line of sight. Dexter watched as she took a seat, crossing her legs and leaning back casually. As if she hadn't just kidnapped someone.

The woman just stared at Dexter, seemingly sizing her up. Dex to the opportunity to do the same.

It didn't take long for Dexter to figure out who she was. Between the dark hair similar to the one she'd practiced braiding the other evening during a girl's night, to the square jaw so reminiscent of the one she admired during meetings, to even the gray eyes that neither sibling fully had, Dexter knew that this was her mate and best friend's older sister. The infamous Milena

Staring into the cold, gray eyes, Dexter couldn't help but think she very much preferred the blue-gray of Frankie's eyes. Despite their very cool-colored nature, they always held an element of warmth in them. Mimi's held none. Dexter knew it wasn't just because Frankie was her mate and Mimi wasn't -- V's blue eyes had never looked this cold either. This was purely something the oldest sibling had.

"So you're little Francesco's mate," Mimi broke the silence after a few minutes of silently observing Dexter. Dex merely raised an eyebrow, challenging the woman to say anything more. Mimi looked her up and down with disdain.

"I'm... Disappointed," she sighed. "I expected someone with a little more finesse. You were easier to capture than a newborn pup."

"Sorry to disappoint," Dexter muttered, smirking up at Mimi. "I was a bit tired after killing your soldiers."

Mimi matched her smirk, leaning forward in her seat.

"Sacrifices I was willing to give," she informed the younger wolf, shrugging innocently. "Bloodshed is necessary for war."

"Kidnapping isn't though," Dexter countered, tugging at her handcuffs for emphasis. Mimi merely chuckled.

"It is when you need information."

"You think I'm going to tell you anything?" Dexter snarled.

"Not at first," Mimi conceded. "But you'll crack eventually. They always do."

Milena stood, brushing the nonexistent dirt from her pants. She smiled down at Dexter.

"I'm sure you and Stefano are going to have fun together. I'll talk to you later, Dexter."

Dexter's senses must have really been dulled from the concussion. During her conversation with Mimi, she hadn't heard someone else descend into the basement. But there was a man standing before her with a steel baseball bat in hand. She assumed he was Stefano, and that he was here to convince her to talk.

"You're not going to break me, Milena," Dexter called out. She heard Mimi's steps falter.

"You keep thinking that, Dexter. But the longer you hold out, the more likely Francesco is going to come looking for you. If I can't get what I want from you, I'll just have to get it from him."

Dexter's heart sank to her stomach. This was a trap. Of course, it was a trap. Of course, Mimi was banking on Dexter talking or Frankie being dumb enough to try and save her.

Dexter prayed that Frankie wouldn't let his heart rule his actions. He'd been so good about letting other people fight their own battles, she prayed he'd let someone else fight this one.

She heard the door slam behind her. She raised her gaze to a grinning Stefano.

"Don't suppose you're gonna uncuff me so we can have batting practice?" Dexter asked, eying the bat warily.

Stefano shook his head, swinging the bat up before bringing it down on her leg. Dexter didn't even try to reign in her scream.

#mafia mates #dexter meetings Milena

3 notes · View notes

ficsnthings · 5 years ago

Text

King Ezekiel x SingleMother!Reader

Read on AO3

Reader is written as female, child is written neutrally.

Rated M - swearing, canon typical violence/gore, mention of child!walkers

Y/n = your name

y/c/n = your child’s name

y/c/e/c = your child’s eye colour

y/c/h/c = your child’s hair colour

This was it. I honestly did not know how in the fuck I could possibly manage to get us out of this particular jam.

We’d been driving along this long, empty road for a few hours. Myself in the driver’s seat, y/c/n sitting in the back seat playing with a slightly dingy stuffed elephant I’d scavenged for them a while ago. I had, stupidly, I realized in hindsight, allowed myself to linger a moment too long while glancing back at y/c/n as they played only to look back at the road and instinctively slam down on the brakes as my brain processed the human looking creature shambling across the pavement before us.

When the car screeched and jolted to a stop and my mind caught up to the situation I quickly realized my mistake and attempted to press down on the gas. The car didn’t budge. The walker stumbled closer, now about thirty feet away. I turned the key in the ignition to off, then back on. More walkers, so many, began to emerge from the tree line. It wouldn’t turn over.

Y/c/n was silent in the back seat, watching in wide eyed fear as the monsters inched ever closer. I quickly motioned for them to lie flat on the floor of the car while I scrambled for the only weapon within my immediate reach, got out of the car, and hurriedly locked the doors behind me, hoping against hope that I could get us – get y/c/n - out of this safely.

So there I was. Standing atop the roof of a car (a small child quietly hidden inside said car) armed with nothing but the broken off pole of a wooden broom and attempting to single-handedly fight off a herd of walkers.

I’d been managing to keep the swarm at bay for a short while, stabbing those closest to me in the head as best as I could, but I was severely outnumbered. I guessed there must have been something like thirty or so walkers surrounding us, but to be honest I was a bit too preoccupied to properly count them.

Suddenly, one of the dead managed to grab hold of my pant leg and pull. It wasn’t enough to drag me from my perch, but enough to knock me off balance causing me to lose grip of my makeshift spear in my resulting moment of panic. I could hear y/c/n let out a soft whimper of fear from where they lay inside the car. It felt like I was watching a movie scene in slow motion as my only real weapon, unconventional as it was, teetered off the edge of the rooftop before disappearing into a sea of the undead.

Dread settled low in my stomach as I realized what had just happened. We were truly and utterly fucked.

As hands clambered at my feet, and hungry jaws snapped too close for comfort, and I wondered what in the fuck I was going to do now, my eyes drifted across the crowd of monsters, landing upon the corpse of a small boy, whose body was torn open at the gut. He was wearing ragged pajamas that appeared to have once depicted dinosaurs, but were now torn, threadbare, and coated in a thick layer of grime. In his hand he still clutched an equally derelict stuffed bear.

Something inside of me snapped.

Determination boiled anew in my veins and suddenly I was fighting again. Kicking the walker closest to me in the face once, twice, three times before it went down in a shower of gore.

I could do this. For my child? I could do anything.

“Yeah, that’s right, fucker! You just fuck right the hell off, asshole!”, I yelled as the geek fell.

I don’t know how long it went on, and I quickly lost track of how many I took down. I just kept kicking, yelling, and fighting with every ounce of strength I possessed. It was only when I looked up from the most recently fallen undead to take on the next that I found that the road was littered with walker remains and not a one was left standing.

I slowly climbed down from atop the car, already feeling the adrenaline rapidly leave my system. I retrieved my fallen spear from where I’d spotted it peaking out from beneath a rotting torso, before the car door burst open and my arms were full with the only thing that really mattered in this desolate world.

“Mama!”, their little voice cried as they latched their small arms around my neck.

I stood, hoisting y/c/n onto my hip, and allowed myself one moment to bask in the comfort of knowing that my child was safe in my arms for one more day.

In that moment, I just let myself breathe, stroking my fingers through y/c/n’s y/c/h/c hair and letting the relief that I was alive, that we were still alive, begin to sink in.“Holy shit.”

“I’d say that about sums it up, yes.”, a masculine voice sounded from behind me.

I quickly spun round, shielding the child in my arms from potential threat as best as I could given the circumstances, to see a small group of people on horseback slow to a stop in the road before us. All were clad in armor, looking for all the world like post-apocalyptic knights. One man, with dark skin, a kind face, and long dreadlocks more salt than pepper, whom I assumed to be their leader, slowly dismounted his stead, raising his hands up in a gentle surrender as he did so.

“We mean you no ill will, my Lady.”, the man assured. “ I apologize, my people and I did not mean to frighten you. We were traveling along the road and heard you fending off the dead, thought perhaps you were in need of aid. It seems, however, that you had it under control.”, the man finished, with no small amount of awe.

I simply observed this strange group for a moment. They seemed clean, well fed, clearly they had a place – a camp or base of some sort. They also seemed genuine, but I hadn’t made it this long in the new world without knowing that the only beings left in this world more dangerous than the dead were the living. Caution had kept me – had kept y/c/n – alive this far, and I knew better than to trust blindly.

When I stayed silent a beat too long the man spoke again, “I must apologize, it seems my manners have deserted me.”, he gave a wide smile that reached his eyes, extending a hand towards me. “I am King Ezekiel, my comrades and I come from a community not far from here, the Kingdom.”

I paused, briefly wondering if I should take a leap and trust these people, or hop back in the car and pray that the ignition would turn over this time. I felt y/c/n shift in my arms and glanced down to find them peering up at me with big, y/c/e/c eyes full of trust and I knew that I had to give a little. I had to at least see if there was a chance of finding somewhere to resemble home. They deserved that.

After all, we could still run if things went south; I was good at that.

“Y/n. And this is y/c/n.”, I said, cautiously extending my hand to meet this so called ‘King’s’.

Ezekiel grasped it, but instead of the handshake I was expecting, he brought to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to my knuckles instead, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Y/n.”

In his eyes I saw nothing but kindness and honesty, and so when he asked, “Would the two of you perhaps like to come with us back to our community?”, I knew I was making the right choice when I replied, “Yes.”

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a coffee

Reblogs and Likes make my day :)

#king ezekiel x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #twd imagines #ezekiel x reader #twd king ezekiel x reader #singlemother!reader #mother!reader

95 notes · View notes

freebooter4ever · 5 years ago

Text

The pirate battle and young idiots falling in love bit that I wrote for the AMAZING sledgefu pirate au @persipneiwrites started!!! I channeled all my silly loneliness into pirate fanfic just for you all...

Waking up to Captain Merriel "Snafu" Shelton - the most feared pirate in the Americas who once sacked an island fort in under an hour leaving no survivors - drooling on his pillow, his face slack with sleep, and a single curl sticking up straight off his forehead, is a bit disingenuous.

Eugene is discovering that the only time Snafu actually looks his age is when he's asleep. A sight which Eugene is becoming weirdly accustomed to seeing, now that he's started sleeping in the Captain's quarters. Especially considering it conversely means that he rarely sees Shelton otherwise. Avoiding someone on a ship is nearly impossible and takes an intimate knowledge of the schooner's inner workings that borders on anal retentive. Snafu is apparently an expert.

Sleeping with the Captain hasn't done much to improve Eugene's standing amongst the crew either. The small torments, like his hammock being destroyed or his clothes being swapped with worse and worse cast offs from other men, stop. But they've been replaced with a new level of suspicion and distrust. For starters, everyone assumes that the two of them are also sleeping together which is a rumor that Eugene doesn't know how to dissuade even if he wanted to. His new small amount of protection against snide remarks and rudeness seems to be solely based on the fact that everyone thinks he is the Captain's favorite.

A Captain who Eugene hasn't actually said more than two words to in three days. Eugene almost misses the sexual innuendos, he is so desperate for someone to talk to. Luckily he only has to survive this for another five days before they reach Mobile.

As a result, Eugene spends a lot of time alone in the cabin, even when not sleeping.

He is surprised by how interesting the cabin is. The level of detail in the maps is astounding. Some of Shelton's notes hold a finesse that Eugene has never seen before. It's impressive. Eugene corrects a few of Shelton's corrections, but otherwise everything is accurate.

What is also impressive is how quick Eugene learns that fiddling with Shelton's papers was a mistake. The first clue is that it finally forces Snafu to seek Eugene out. The second clue is how angry Snafu looks as he storms towards Eugene on the deck.

"Keep your hands off my maps!" Shelton growls.

"I was only editing a few spelling mistakes," Eugene argues.

"I don't care how it's spelled, I only care how I hear it, cause that's all that matters," Shelton snaps.

"Spelling is spelling, it's either right or it isn't," Eugene retorts.

"They're my words on my maps from my memory. I will spell them how I want!"

"I was trying to help!"

"You are as helpful as a diseased monkey!"

"Fuck off, Shelton!"

"Fuck you, Sledge!"

"Shut up!"

"You first!"

"Fuck you Shelton!"

A sudden clang from a dropped cannonball interrupts their argument. They both stop and look. The entire crew is arrayed around them, watching like they're the latest gossip fodder.

Shelton straightens, his face still as mean as a snake. He silently grabs Eugene's wrist and drags him to the front of the ship. He throws Eugene against the large front pole thing, and says coldly, "Touch my things again and I will lock you in the cabin until Mobile. And how many times do I have to say - don't argue with me in front of the crew."

"Wouldn't locking me in the cabin have the opposite effect? I could scribble all over your maps to my heart's content," Eugene refuses to be intimidated.

"Do that and you'll die."

"The maps would still be scribbled on."

"Sledge…"

"I suppose you could take away all the writing utensils. But if I was vengeful enough I could just shred everything."

"Don't."

"Where would you even sleep? Can't say I wouldn't mind having that big bed all to myself but it'd get awful lonely…"

"I slept in a hammock for the first sixteen years of life, I can certainly do it again."

"Your mama kept you in a hammock as a baby, cause that seems a little impractical?"

"My mama was already dead when I was a baby."

"Oh," Eugene pulls up short in the conversation. And makes a new discovery. Shelton looks like the wide eyed young man he truly is during two times: when he is asleep, and when he is vulnerable.

"This boat's the only family I got left," Shelton brushes Eugene's concern off casually.

"Why do you call it that?" Eugene asks, changing topics deliberately.

"What?" Shelton looks confused.

"Boat. Why do you call your ship a boat?"

Snafu shrugs, "Cause that's it's name."

"You can't be serious," Eugene says flatly. Just when he thinks this pirate can't be any more of a farce, Shelton manages to surprise him.

"Look over the side, see for yourself," Shelton smirks proudly.

Eugene does. He gets a wolf whistle from the Captain as Eugene bends over the rail that he chooses to ignore. But sure enough, painted on the side of the ship is a single word, "Boat". It's such a dumb shock, Eugene's hand slips.

Strong hands immediately grab his hips to hold him in place and keep him from falling overboard.

"Shelton!" Eugene yelps.

"Just trying to keep you from dying before I can kill you," Shelton replies.

Eugene hastily clambers back down to the deck and turns around. Shelton has a lascivious grin on his face, and his eyes slowly travel up from the general vicinity of Eugene's ass. Eugene can feel his face burn, and he curses his red hair and pale skin that gives away everything.

He also notices how large Shelton's hands are proportionally to the rest of his body. It's not something he wants to dwell on. So he continues the conversation.

"Who in their right mind names a schooner 'Boat'?" Eugene asks.

Shelton crosses his arms and takes a step away from Eugene to lean against the opposite rail. "Had to paint over the old name, so the original owner wouldn't come calling," Shelton says defensively as he stares at his feet, "Had to pick something." The captain adds a little shrug to punctuate the end of his sentence that makes him look so blase it's almost comical.

The fondness that surges through Eugene's chest makes him almost want to laugh again. "Snafu," he says, "You are ridiculous."

Shelton's head snaps up, and it's interesting to note that he's gone all wide-eyed again. Which is how Eugene realizes he's slipped up and referred to the Captain by his crew nickname aloud for the first time.

Snafu studies Eugene quietly for a minute, as if he's trying to gauge what's changed, and then says in that damned laissez-faire drawl of his, "Can't go getting attached to things. It's dangerous. You name something, it'll only hurt more when it's gone." He stares at Eugene like it's an accusation.

Shelton stops avoiding him after their public fight. Even the crew members warm up to Eugene a little bit. Eugene starts tracking Snafu down, first pointing out a spelling error on a map, and then fixing it under the Captain's supervision rather than doing so unasked. Shelton, in turn, starts relying on Eugene for checking his memory. The Captain is planning a trip to asia, by way of south america, and he is very eager to discover Eugene has sailed the length of the Americas a few times when he was younger and his father in the Navy as a doctor. Eugene has a natural talent for observing coastlines and an even more natural talent for memory.

And Eugene starts to admit that he might be the one getting attached on the day Eugene wakes to find he's drifted across the bed in his sleep, with his arm wrapped snug around Snafu's waist and his face buried in Snafu's curls.

And as he comes out of his pleasant dream, he forgets he isn't home.

That morning happens when they're two days out from Mobile. And it also happens on the only day the quartermaster barges through the unlocked cabin door to wake the captain.

Snafu sits bolt upright immediately.

"British Navy ship sighted, Captain," Burgie says formally, trying deliberately to not look at Eugene.

"Tonnage?"

"120 gunner, Captain," Burgie says, which is answer enough.

"Shit," Snafu curses, "Slow us down, give us time."

"Aye," Burgie disappears and the door shuts, but his voice carries and they can hear him barking orders at the crew.

"Eugene…" Snafu says, his voice strangely tight.

It takes a second before he realizes, but Eugene quickly releases his grip around the Captain's waist. Snafu immediately springs to action, putting a shirt on for the first time since Eugene met him, and covering every square inch of his body with belts and weapons. He grabs a goofy green bucket hat off a hook on the wall and crams the hat over the soft curls that Eugene had been admiring only minutes before. The strange hat shadows Snafu's face, making his eyes big and luminous. Snafu notices him looking and smirks, "Lucky hat." The smile is wide but it doesn't meet his eyes. It makes Eugene wonder about the dark irregular stains patterning the hat's brim.

"Stay here," Shelton orders, pointing directly at Eugene before he slams the door shut.

Eugene crawls out of bed and throws on the nearest shirt. "Here" is a very relative term, he thinks, as he picks through Snafu's leftover weapons to find ones he can recognize and use. Technically, this entire ship could be considered "here". Especially if one is judging based on the typical nautical longitude and latitude positioning.

When Eugene carefully sneaks out of the Captain's cabin no one notices. The deck is organized chaos. Every single soul aboard is running around like chickens with their heads cut off. And in the midst of it all Eugene sees Snafu at the wheel, standing calm and collected. The pirate captain's entire focus is on the white spec of sails in the distance.

Eugene lurches over to the side of the Boat. The deck seems to be jumping underfoot more than usual, and when Eugene glances over the rail at the water he realizes they're moving at a speed he wouldn't have thought physically possible.

The Boat is practically flying. The pirates have wind advantage over the ship they're going up against.

Of all the preparations for the battle they are speeding towards at such a steady clip, the most commotion is happening at the back of the ship. When Eugene goes to check it out, he is suddenly shoved into an empty place at the rope.

"Grab and pull," one of the sailors orders, "Steady."

Eugene does as instructed. He gets told to do a number of other tasks afterwards, and he hopes desperately he got them right. What a time for the crew to finally decide to educate him.

For some reason the sailors seem to be lowering a complicated rig off the back of the Boat. Tied between the rig is a medium sized skiff, of a kind Eugene has never seen before. The skiff can carry maybe twenty five people max, and it seems odd to mobilize it for a fight against a massive warship holding at least five hundred men.

But then again, the stories about Captain Snafu always did say he was insane.

When the order comes for the crew to man the cannons, Eugene finds himself alone once more. He makes his way back to the main deck and then ascends the stairs to stand by Snafu's side. Snafu spares him a brief glance, and then ignores him. He's got his elegant long pipe perched between his lips and both hands on the wheel. And he looks as relaxed and carefree as Eugene has ever seen him.

Unexpectedly, it's Snafu who breaks the tense silence between them.

"That's a known press gang ship. If they board us, they'll get half our crew for desertion from the Royal Navy no matter what their current nationality is," Snafu says, "Penalty for that's worse than death."

"Desertion?" Eugene asks.

"After impressment, a navy sailor's got two choices: to stay and take the fifty percent chance he dies of scurvy… or run and accept the one hundred percent chance of hanging for desertion," Snafu's smirk suddenly turns feral, "But only if they catch him."

"And you?" Eugene asks, "Did you desert?"

"Do I sound British?" Snafu puts on his heaviest Cajun accent, "It was the Louisiana navy for me. Volunteered."

"Then you're safe. Why instigate a fight against a warship three times your manpower? Why not just hand the deserters over to the Royal Navy?" Eugene asks.

Snafu stares at him like he's seeing Eugene for the first time, and it makes Eugene's skin crawl.

"Were you born in Britain?" Snafu asks him.

"Yes…"

"Then they'd take you too..."

"But I've never deserted the Royal Navy…"

"Don't matter," Snafu shakes his head.

"My father and I are naturalized Amercian Citizens…."

"Don't matter," Snafu repeats.

"They can't do that," Eugene protests.

"You see anyone out here 'sides me who is going to stop them?" Snafu gestures beyond the ship rail, into the wide open ocean.

A chill runs down Eugene's spine. "I'd take it to the courts. As soon as we landed in the nearest port. Surely the law would recognize my rights."

"Fifty percent chance of scurvy on every voyage, Boot," Snafu says, "You'd probably be dead before you even made it to your first port."

Eugene's heart is racing. He feels trapped and he's not even in this hypothetical situation yet. He gives the white sails of the warship a second look. The recognizable, beautiful snap of the British flag blowing in the wind is a bit dulled to his senses now.

And a second flag is being jerkingly hoisted underneath.

Snafu snaps open his telescope and puts it to his eye. Eugene can't make out the signia on the second, smaller flag except that it's red.

"What's on it?" Eugene demands.

Snafu wordlessly passes the telescope over. Eugene expertly focuses it on the flags and waits for the wind to blow the red one straight.

It's blank.

"I won't let them take anyone," Snaf promises quietly as he closes the telescope and slips it into his coat. He refuses to look at Eugene, instead maintaining his determined blank stare at the opposing ship's flags.

Eugene tightens the belt of his borrowed sword. He pulls the pistol out, loads it, and returns it to the holster.

Snafu watches him as he does this. The captain's face is devoid of emotion. When Eugene finishes, their eyes meet, and Snafu nods, once.

Eugene takes that as permission to remain on deck.

They are approaching the British warship at an alarming speed. The captain might be calm, but Eugene's heart is unsteady as the sides of the two ships narrowly miss colliding into each other.

All worries aside, Snafu's steady hand guides them in. And the pirate ship slides in neatly alongside the warship. And then all calm is destroyed.

The last thing Eugene remembers in the minute of smooth sailing before the battle starts is the look of grim determination on Snafu's face and wild fear around his eyes.

The pirates let loose their cannons first, before the royal navy ship can react. Snafu's cannonshot does more damage - if only because his crew were better able to predict the opportune moment to fire.

By the time the 120 guns on the warship respond in kind, Snafu's ship is already halfway gone, sailed straight past like a ghost.

"NOW!" Snafu yells over the din.

A volley of heavily weapon laden pirates, at least half of Snafu's sailors, swing from their ship to board the other. Snafu produces a rope from out of nowhere, hands another to Eugene, gives him a challenging look, and then follows his crew.

Eugene doesn't have much time to make a decision. Another few minutes and the pirate ship will be beyond the reach of boarding the warship. As it is, Eugene still times his jump wrong and he misses the top deck, instead landing somewhere around the second.

He hits the side of the wooden planks painfully hard. Snafu is long gone already, probably in the middle of the battle on deck judging from the noise above Eugene's head. Eugene takes a minute to cling to the decorative wood siding on the ship, and hangs over the water desperately. All the fancy lessons in military history and swordplay throughout Eugene's childhood seem too theoretical to be of any use in this situation.

One deep breath, two.

He scrabbles to take hold of the nearest porthole and starts climbing. When he swings over the deck rail and draws his sword, the battle is already a mess.

Instinct and the years of formal military training kick in, and Eugene finds himself fighting for his life. The sword he picked is light, and quick, and Eugene always was the best in his class at the academy.

But it's one thing to spar with peers.

It's another to be facing down men wearing a uniform that Eugene was drilled to respect. He fights defensively, warding off blows instead of dealing them, and incapacitating soldiers where he can. Carefully placed cuts to the extremities, or in one case knocking a particularly tenacious fighter out cold.

Eugene hesitates once, against a cabin boy not much younger than himself, and he is nearly killed for it. Snafu saves Eugene's life. Appears out of nowhere and cuts down the man behind Eugene who had been about to gut him while Eugene was distracted. Eugene hadn't even noticed because he was too busy staring in shock at the child - so young and already fighting against pirates.

Snafu kills the boy too. The cut is clean, expertly done and relatively painless compared to the hacking and slashing going on around them. It still nearly makes Eugene sick. He falls back against the wall of the deck cabin and sags for a brief minute.

Snafu's eyes are condemning. He turns his back on Eugene and immediately reenters the fray.

Eugene looks down at the man who almost killed him, and the boy who had been about to try before Snafu stopped him too.

Eugene knows what the solid red flag under the Union Jack means. He knows these men on the warship are fighting with no quarter given. They mean to kill every pirate in Snafu's crew. No surrender possible.

And, if Snafu is correct, it'd be impressment for Eugene until he got a message to his father. At best.

At worst, they'd kill him alongside all the other pirates, with no one to recognize him or his father's status, and he'd end up with a nameless watery grave.

No mercy for pirates and pirate associates.

After that Eugene stops paying attention to who he kills and who he doesn't. He fights his way to Snafu's side and sticks there, like a stubborn burr.

Fighting alongside Snafu comes second nature to him. The connection is immediate and somehow - Eugene isn't sure how - they anticipate each other's moves wordlessly. Snafu's swordplay is militaristic: clean, and crisp, and regimented. It's also absolutely, unrelentingly ruthless.

Gradually Eugene notices Snafu is maneuvering them in a certain direction. And when he looks up and sees the warship's Captain standing above them yelling orders, Eugene knows why. The pirate captain is going to engage the naval commander in a duel.

Eugene briefly assesses the way the naval commander holds his sword, his stance, and he decides Snafu will not be fighting this man. All the ruthlessness in the world cannot make up for the finesse of a gentleman's sword training. His mind made up, Eugene pushes his way through the crowd, scales the balcony, and lands in front of the commander.

He hears Snafu yell his name, but he ignores it. He has one goal in mind.

The commander judges Eugene with a sneer, but Eugene settles into his firmest fighting stance, and waits, putting on as much a regal air as he can muster. The two men circle each other.

"Captain Shelton," the commander addresses Eugene with the wrong name, "Given the stories, I expected you to be shorter."

Eugene says nothing. He waits.

The commander attacks first, hasty, and in return Eugene draws the first blood.

It's a subtle battle. It always is, when two opponents are closely matched in skill and training.

Fed up with the endless battle, Eugene fakes a slip up and gets his arm sliced from shoulder to elbow, but flips his swordhand, steps into an attack, and primly ends the commander's life.

When he withdraws his sword and cleans it on the dead man's jacket, Eugene is somewhat surprised at how little emotion he feels in the act.

"Sledge!" a hand grabs his arm and pulls him backwards. Snafu has taken off his shirt and starts quickly wrapping it around Eugene's gaping wound.

"Snafu!" Bergie appears out of the chaos.

Snafu switches gears immediately, grabbing Burgie's hand and yanking him up onto the relatively quiet wheel deck with them.

"Hamm is dead," Burgie says, "He never made it to the brig."

Snafu eyes widen. Eugene thought he had seen Shelton scared before, but now the man is truly terrified. He glances at Eugene, stares at him blankly for a moment then says, "I'll get it done." Snafu tosses something to Burgie and Burgie tosses him a bundle in return. Snafu starts down the deck stairs, but glances back one final time at Burgie, "Make sure the crew get off okay." and flicks his eyes over to Eugene meaningfully.

Then he drops down the open hatch into the depths of the ship.

"Eugene…" Burgie breaks his concentration, "Help me get the crew organized."

Seeing Snafu scared scares the shit out of Eugene.

"No," Eugene says calmly, "Don't think I will," and leaps down to follow his captain.

He finds Snaf at the very bottom of the brig. The man is clicking a mysterious package into place, stringing up several others. The captain spends a few minutes finishing his task, and then moves over to a huddled mass in the darkest corner of the ship. It takes Eugene a second glance to realize the shadow is a person.

"Hey," Snafu calls over to the corner, "Kid." He crouches down a few feet in front of the hidden man - a royal navy sailor maybe a few years older than the pirate - and stares at him unblinkingly. Snafu's posture is not exactly intimidating, but it isn't kind either. The sailor shrinks back, despite being physically bigger and undoubtedly stronger.

Snafu looks almost delicate in comparison, so slight and lean in muscle. An illusion of innocence only broken by the blood covering his clothes and his cache of heavily used weapons. Underneath Snafu's cheekbone there is a streak of what Eugene desperately hopes is dirt. And clutched in his hand is a cruel looking knife Snafu had been using to cut and tie strings. It too is covered in dried blood.

The man on the ground looks terrified.

"Do you want a better life, Boot?" Snafu asks coldly, without emotion.

The man takes a few breaths to consider, and then nods.

Snafu stands, takes a step back but maintains eye contact. "Then get up," he orders, harsh, "and follow me."

And with that he turns around.

And sees Eugene.

Immediately his face goes from impassive to surprised. And then fury. He storms over, grabs Eugene's wrist. Shakes him. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demands, "I told you to get off this ship."

"No, you told Burgie to get the crew off the ship," Eugene counters.

"That includes you!" Snafu snarls.

"No, it doesn't," Eugene says simply, "and you know it."

"Fuck, we don't have time for this," Snafu runs a hand through his hair and glances at the strange device he set up earlier. He gives Eugene one last glare and then starts up the ladder to the deck, "C'mon," he pauses and turns back one more time, "both of you!"

Slightly cowed, Eugene and the nameless sailor follow the captain. They pass through each level of deck and go completely unnoticed. No one questions sailors passively coming up from below, and neither Snafu nor Eugene stand out as pirates. The royal navy is fairly distracted, anyway. Every man is working to move the dead and hastily fix the damage to the ship.

The top deck is a graveyard.

A single naval officer barking orders spares them no second glance.

Snafu shoves the nameless sailor forward toward the rail and grabs Eugene's arm. "Into the water. Now!"

The sailor follows orders and he's overboard in seconds.

Eugene and Snafu are still running across the deck when the explosion goes off. Eugene gets one leg up on the rail before the blast hits him. Somehow in the madness Snafu grabs Eugene's hand. It doesn't help.

They lose contact with each other before they even hit the water. Snafu's hand goes slack and slips out of Eugene's grasp.

Eugene tries to scream the captain's name but he can't because his mouth is full of water. He kicks his way to the surface, grateful to the careful swimming instruction his mother gave him during the long hot summer days at the dike.

When he breaks free and takes his first breath, his immediate reaction is to look for a familiar hat. At first he thinks a black cloud of night stole the afternoon away, until he realizes it's smoke. Behind him, far above his head, every deck of the warship is spewing flames. The heat is intense, nearly burning his exposes face and neck. But even more unbearable are the screams.

He slips back under the water to drown out the noise. And remembers the captain.

The next time he breaks the surface he screams Snafu's name, his voice barely discernible even to his own ears.

No answer.

He didn't expect one. How many sailors of Snafu's harsh upbringing know how to swim? The probability is slim. Immediately Eugene dives back down. Debris falling off the ship and getting tossed around in the waves make it nearly impossible to see.

He surfaces and dives again, over and over.

It's the bucket hat that catches Eugene's eye. The broad brim is flapped up, revealing Snafu's unconscious face, oddly peaceful amongst the fire and raining detritus. A darker stream of water circles around the back of his head as he sinks.

Without hesitation Eugene grabs Snafu underneath his arms and hauls him upward.

This time when they break the surface there are other bodies in the water, some floating silently, some yelling. One man tries to grab hold of Eugene's back in his drowning panic. Eugene loses Snafu briefly, but he pulls out his knife and cuts himself free.

Eugene drags Snafu back to the surface, and starts treading water. He knows his endurance won't sustain them both for long. He avoids the floating broken mast of the ruined ship, knowing the ropes will entangle them and pull them down to the depths when it finally sinks. However, a chunk of deck railing bobs nearby. And Eugene quickly heaves Snafu's surprisingly heavy limp body across it.

Eugene grabs hold of an edge and starts trying to kick them away from the ship, to avoid the suction.

The warship is sinking steadily. Soon the screams will stop entirely. The relief Eugene feels at that thought is guilty. He can't continue to think on it. So he focuses on waking Snafu instead.

The man is still and cold. Enough so that Eugene knows he should assume the worst. Resuscitation is probably pointless.

He tries anyway.

Rolling Snafu on his side atop the decking is difficult while Eugene himself is still in the water, but he manages. He holds the planks as steady as he can while kicking to keep himself afloat and sweeps his fingers around Snafu's mouth to check if he swallowed any debris. Water trickles out but thankfully nothing else. Eugene squeezes Snafu's nose shut, seals his own lips to the captain's, and breathes. He checks Snafu's pulse, and almost cries in relief when it's there - faint, but there.

Another three breaths against Snafu's lips and the man spasms.

Vomit spews from his mouth onto Eugene's hands and face, and after it a deluge of water. Snafu's eyes open wide. He coughs and rolls over onto his stomach.

"Gene?" the captain's voice is hoarse. His eyes stay out of focus until they settle on one detail, "Your arm. It's bleeding again." He starts to wiggle, reaching out like he wants to fix it somehow. Eugene grabs his hand and holds him still.

"Don't worry about it, Snaf," Eugene orders.

Snafu coughs again and his eyes roll back into his head. He can still hold his neck up, and his relative lucidity is comforting, but Eugene can't forget about the blood mixing with the water around him when Eugene first found Snafu drowning. He's injured somewhere, and Eugene desperately hopes it wasn't the man's head.

He's still shocked the hat stayed on.

Snafu opens his eyes again and tips his head back to look at the burning hulk of the warship. The screams are quiet now. The only noise comes from those floating in the water - mostly wordless yells, or cries for help. Snafu continues in the same direction, looking up into the smokey sky above them. Which is when Eugene finally notices the strap attached to the bucket hat and tied securely underneath Snafu's pointy chin.

Eugene almost laughs. "Lucky hat, indeed," Eugene mumbles.

Snafu turns his face back to Eugene and coughs before repeating, "Gene?". He still sounds desperate.

"You're okay," Eugene tells him, "You're okay."

Snafu still looks disoriented and lost, but he nods. His eyelids close and his head droops.

"Snafu!" Eugene says sharply.

No answer.

"Damn it you dirty old pirate," he cups the side of Snafu's neck, "You can't die on me now." When there is no answer, Eugene kicks himself forward out of the water and briefly knocks their lips together. Snafu's eyes snap open like he's a goddamn frog become a prince in a fairytale.

Eugene sighs in relief.

"'m younger than you," Snafu slurs, "and cleaner."

"I know…" Eugene says, leaning his forehead gently against Snafu's, "I know."

Snafu doesn't close his eyes again. His stare is almost unnerving, in how unwavering it is.

They're eventually picked up by the small skiff, which had been floating nearby out of cannon range. When Eugene is pulled aboard after Snafu, he sees the skiff is half full of ammo crates and cannonballs. All with the royal navy stamp. The other half holds nearly every pirate who boarded the warship in the initial attack. Hamm is among the notable missing. There are a few unfamiliar faces, including the nameless sailor Snafu talked out of the hold.

"Ammunition?" Eugene asks, incredulous, "Ammunition is why we attacked that ship?"

Burgie nods curtly, brushing Eugene's concerns aside. The quartermaster's focus is on the captain. He quickly and expertly tends to the wound on Snafu's head.

"He nearly drowned?" Burgie asks Eugene.

"Yes," Eugene admits, at a loss for what to do next other than wait.

"Get the wet clothes off him," Bergie tosses a blanket at Eugene, "Get him warm. We'll reach the ship soon."

Eugene uses his knife to cut and then peel Snafu's clothes off him. Halfway through this process the captain wakes up and starts shivering. Eugene hastily gets his pants off him and throws the blanket around his naked body. He guides Snaf into his lap and wraps his arms around the man's shaking bones.

Gradually the shaking stops and Snafu presses his face into Eugene's wet chest.

They sit together for the entire time it takes the skiff to reach the pirate ship. The crew who remained behind to sail the pirate ship during the battle hoist the skiff up the rig till they're level with the deck.

Both Eugene and Burgie carry the Captain into his cabin. They lay him on his bed and Eugene layers blanket after blanket on top of him. Every few minutes another crew member appears at the door with an extra blanket to offer.

Eventually Burgie has to turn the generous offers away for fear of losing Snafu underneath all that cloth. The quartermaster leaves as well, closing the door silently behind him.

And suddenly Eugene is alone with a very quiet, possibly asleep, shallowly breathing pirate captain.

Eugene is prepared to sit by Snafu's bedside the entire night. He anxiously runs his hands over his face, and then folds his arms on the bedspread to form a pillow. His eyes close involuntarily, they are tired to the point of pain and still stinging from all the smoke.

At some point Eugene finally falls asleep.

He doesn't know for how long, but eventually the bed shifts under his head and he realizes Snaf is awake. It's too much energy to lift his head, so Eugene merely peaks out from above his folded arms.

"Hiya," Snafu says weakly with a goofy grin.

Eugene tries to prevent the exasperated smile that spreads across his face but he doesn't do a very good job of it.

"I'm Merriel Shelton," Snafu continues, his voice growing stronger as he talks, "My flag's flying at half mast right now, but for you I bet I could get it up to full."

Eugene lifts his head a tiny bit so he can talk without being muffled. "I can leave…" he threatens teasingly.

"Don't," Snafu's eyes go serious and he takes Eugene's hand, "I'm sorry. Please. Stay."

Eugene threads their fingers together and rests his head on both their hands.

Snafu's face glows. The color is returning to his cheeks.

"That blow to your head must've been serious," Eugene says with mock concern, "If you can't remember that we've already been introduced."

Snafu squeezes Eugene's hand. "Don't matter, as long as I remember this moment," Snafu says, as flippant and casually sensual as ever.

Eugene huffs, amused. He quietly observes Snafu for a moment, looking for any sign. Not seeing one, he takes a deep breath.

"Do you remember I kissed you?" Eugene asks in a rush. He clings to the pirate captain's hand like a lifeline.

"Don't care about memory loss as long as I remember that moment too," Snafu adds. He gives a single nod.

They stare at each other for a long while. If Shelton's heart is beating even half as hard as Eugene's, the sound must be commanding most of Shelton's attention too. Eugene is aware of nothing but his own breathing, Snafu's cold firm grip, and the captain's eyes. He doesn't know what they might've just started, by finally admitting to this thing between them out loud, but Eugene wants to find out.

A knock on the cabin door breaks the spell.

"Come in," Snafu calls.

Burgie pokes his head in, "Glad you're awake, Captain." The quartermaster then turns to Eugene, "Any signs of brain damage?"

Eugene shakes his head. Snafu meanwhile bristles. "You could ask me."

"Begging your pardon, Captain," Burgie acquiesces without sounding genuine at all, "We'll be in Mobile by tomorrow evening. The crew has been instructed to take our usual berth."

Snafu looks conflicted but he nods, "Good. Thank you."

Once the door closes behind Burgie silence settles over the two of them again.

"Guess it's our last night together, Sledge," Snafu says with a smirk.

His words send a sinking, horrible ache deep through Eugene's gut.

Eugene stands. He turns around, drags his blood stained shirt out of his pants and starts unbuttoning it. "You need to learn how to swim," Eugene orders Snafu. He strips the wet, ruined shirt off, tosses it onto the floor, and unbuckles his belt. His tattered pants fall to the floor as well, leaving him standing in front of the bed, facing Snafu, in nothing but his drawers.

Snafu blatantly refuses to take his eyes off Eugene's crotch, "You know, if you ever decide to take up piracy, you won't be able to wear that fancy underwear no more. Too expensive to ruin 'em every time a navy ship gets uppity."

"Snafu…" Eugene says, heavily laden with implications of 'be serious'.

Snafu sighs, casting his eyes to the ceiling. He hoists himself into a sitting position and leans over to fish around on the table nearby. "No point in learning to swim," he says as he fills his tobacco pipe, "If the sea takes you, it takes you."

"No," Eugene leans over, splays his hand flat against Snafu's chest, and shoves him down onto the bed, hard, "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say."

"I'm not learning to swim, Sledge."

"Yes. You are," Eugene says regally, still holding him down, "I'm going to teach you how to swim, even if it's the last thing I do."

"Why?" Snafu asks, eyes half closed, suspicious. His tobacco is dropped on the blanket next to him, completely forgotten.

A beat or two of anxious silence.

And then, instead of an answer, Eugene bends down and simply kisses him.

The kiss becomes heated quickly. Eugene's fingers tangle in Snafu's curls, getting to feel firsthand how soft they are. He is utterly caught up. Until a minute into it, he realizes what he is doing and breaks away abruptly. Eugene sits back on the bed.

"Gene…" Snafu groans. He follows Eugene's retreat, putting his hands around Eugene's waist and pulling him closer, so their chests are flush against each other.

And damned if Eugene's name in Shelton's mouth don't make him feel weak.

Snafu is running a hand up and down Eugene's back. There's a small smile on his face as he looks up into Eugene's eyes with a kind of emotion Eugene's never seen before.

"Gene." he repeats, more self-assured this time.

The self assurance and cockiness is what throws a cold bucket of water over Eugene. He licks his lips, tries not to think…but... "Guess you're finally getting what you want," he quips.

Snafu jerks back, insulted. "What is it you think I want?" the pirate's eyes are alert again.

"Me, in your bed. With you. Falling for all your," Eugene waves his hand in the air, "seductive tomfoolery." He shoves Snaf hard again, this time to push him away. And Snafu falls flat on his back, bouncing on the pillows.

Snafu holds his hands out limply, not touching Eugene, and watches him silently. With those big eyes that Eugene is only beginning to be able to read.

On their last night together.

The pirate is no longer putting any effort into seduction, not giving Eugene some cheesy line or winking at him. He is simply looking at him. But in a way Eugene doesn't recognize. It's an honest look, to say the least.

"Merriel," Eugene sighs, almost giving in.

Snafu's smile lights up his entire face. He lifts his chin haughtily. It's like he's come to life again, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, and every bit of his old teasing self returned.

"I definitely want that," Snafu says. He waits, patiently.

And Eugene comes to him. This time when he pushes Snafu down into the pillows, it's gentle, with a smooth full body grind amidst their kiss. Snafu catches Eugene's hips between his hands and pulls him in encouragingly.

No words need to be said, after that.

Eugene wakes late the next morning, stark naked and alone. Snafu probably snuck out around dawn for ship duties of some form or another, as the captain usually does. This time, though, there is a glass of water and breakfast plate waiting for Eugene on the nightstand next to him. Sitting temptingly to the side of the plate is a pristine fresh apple. Eugene can't imagine how Snafu procured one. Them being on a ship that's been at sea for six months and all. He grins, and stretches, and spreads across the entire bed to fall back asleep.

He sleeps until the heat becomes unbearable and sticky. Snafu still hasn't shown his face. But outside the cabin door Eugene can hear laughter, and the occasional shout of lively discussion. He drags on the cleanest clothes he can find - more of Shelton's of course, and steps outside.

And there, in the middle of the deck, seated at a makeshift table with an elegant quill poised and a broad grin on his face, is the pirate captain himself, wearing a truly ridiculous feathered hat. And little else.

The entire crew is gathered around their captain, sitting on various ship parts and ropes that were never meant to be chairs.

Shelton is talking to the quartermaster who stands just off to the side, and doesn't notice Eugene at first. Until Eugene makes his way forward, drawing the attention of the crew as he passes.

Shelton's eyes turn toward Eugene then. And simultaneously his grin turns devilish. His gaze travels down the ruffled dress shirt Eugene stole from the captain's own sea chest. "Nice of you to join us."

Eugene shifts uncomfortably, well aware of the crew measuring his every move. "What's this about?" he asks.

Still grinning, Snafu pushes the scroll he's been writing on across the table towards Eugene.

Eugene steps forward, thumbs the parchment closer, and reads it over.

Eugene closes his eyes, and shakes his head. "Snaf, I can't." He slides the paper away.

Burgie's eyebrows go up at the very familiar nickname.

Snafu slides the paper back.

"It's a communal decision. You're one of us now," Snafu drawls, "A pirate."

"That my reward for fucking you?" Eugene challenges.

"Nah, that's it's own reward," Snafu's smile never falters.

Not a single crew member even so much as blinks an eye over Eugene's public declaration.

Eugene still hesitates, staring at the blank space next to his name.

"You're not signing in blood," Snafu drawls, "It ain't for life, Sledgehammer."

Eugene's eyes snap up to meet Snaf's. The fondness he sees there is as deep and unwavering as every other part of Snafu's headstrong personality. Eugene knows how uncompromising Snafu's loyalty can be when the man chooses to give it. Eugene is beginning to realize the fearless Captain Shelton might have a weakness after all, and it might be him.

Burgie chuckles at the new nickname, "Sledgehammer. I like that."

Bill groans and makes a snide comment.

Eugene ignores it. He ignores everyone. The decision may be communal but the only opinion he cares about in this moment is the one from the man looking straight at him with that wonderfully familiar gleam in his eye and devil grin.

Eugene calmly leans his hand against the table and scrawls his name at the bottom of the ledger.

The crew lets out a rousing cheer, with a lot of laughter, and Eugene can feel his face burn red. He didn't expect quite such a reaction. He tries to play it off casual, but when he turns back to Snafu and slides the contract over to his captain, Eugene smiles helplessly. It's a giant surge of thrill that could probably become addictive if he's not careful.

Snafu simply nods at him in acknowledgement.

"Hey Sledgehammer," Bill interrupts, "Come help me with this rope."

Eugene nods, and joins the crew at their work, and as easy as that something in the ship's dynamic shifts. And suddenly Eugene is included in the pirates' "us against the world" circle.

Eugene spends his last day aboard the Boat working. He is only pulled away from his duties as the sun is setting when Snafu requests his help drafting a new map. At first Eugene thinks it's merely a trick to get him alone again. But then he enters the captain's cabin and sees the disarray there. It's even worse than before, scrolls pulled out and paper everywhere. Snafu keeps Eugene up half the night checking and double checking measurements. He picks Eugene's brain for every scrap of detail Eugene can remember about the Eastern coast of South America.

And Eugene tries to pretend seeing all this careful planning and research doesn't hurt when he knows he is not going with them. He tries to pretend he doesn't achingly want to go with them.

After Snafu asks him to redraw Cape Horn for the third time, Eugene decides he's had all he can take. Instead of following orders, he grabs Snafu by his hips, drags him into his lap, and kisses him. And tries to pour all of that unspoken wishful thinking, or daydreaming, or longing, or what-have-you, into it. If this is the last time he gets to wrap his arms around Snafu, he is not going to waste the opportunity with mapmaking.

Snafu, unfortunately, has other ideas. He breaks the kiss and tilts his head up out of reach. "And which channel was it you said was the widest and best for a ship of our size?" He asks. His mind is clearly elsewhere.

Eugene groans. He stands. Snafu slides off his lap with a small frown of disappointment. Eugene throws himself backwards onto the bed, covering his eyes with his arm to block out the flickering candlelight. "I already told you the name a thousand times. And I wrote it down. Both in your journal, and on the map that you made me redraw twice."

Snafu starts flipping through his journal to check. Eugene props himself up on his elbows to watch.

"Gotta squeeze all that knowledge out of you before you're gone Sledgehammer," Snafu says.

"At the moment I'd rather you squeeze me for other reasons…" Eugene mutters.

"I found the name," Snafu announces, his finger poised on his book, "but the spelling is different than the one on the map. Which is correct?"

"The map," Eugene says tiredly, "I checked that one more."

Snafu starts blotting out the name in the book and rewrites it.

"Merriell," Eugene says.

The pirate captain looks up, eyes innocent and wide.

"If you don't get over here and fuck me in our last hours together instead of reiterating on information you know I already recorded for you...I'm never speaking to you again," Eugene threatens, trying to keep his manner teasing but also hopefully dead serious enough that Snafu drops his preocupations and comes to bed.

"Aint ever gonna speak to me again either way," Snafu smiles and shrugs, but there is a look of vulnerability in his expression that makes Eugene ache further.

"Don't do this," Eugene says.

"Do what?"

"Act like I don't matter to you. Like I'm never gonna see you again."

Snafu laughs. He saunters over to the bed, climbs across Eugene to hover over him, and holds Eugene's gaze like it's a promise.

"You're a governor's son. I'm a pirate. Ain't ever going to live in the same world," Snafu says.

And Eugene can't argue against the truth.

They lie there together, close but not touching, neither one of them willing to make the first move. Eugene doesn't know what to say.

So he turns away. He shifts on the bed, turning his back to his captain, and closes his eyes. If he can't do anything else, he desperately wants to try and sleep. His heart is beating fast and irregular in his chest, though. And every nerve in his body refuses to calm down.

Snafu doesn't touch him, still doesn't say anything either. The bed lifts as he steps away to his desk.

The captain finishes writing in his log book. Eugene hears him shuffling papers around for a bit, before Snafu douses the lights one by one, and then comes back to bed. He very carefully lies down next to Eugene, trying not to jostle him or wake him up. Eugene feels a hand snake around his waist, and Snafu's chest press against his back.

Snafu kisses the nape of Eugene's neck.

"You'll go home," he whispers into Eugene's ear, "and forget about me. And be better off for it. I ain't made for a normal life, like you."

He falls asleep against Eugene's back. Snafu's gentle breaths tickle Eugene's neck and his pointy chin digs uncomfortably into the meat of Eugene's shoulder.

Eugene doesn't sleep a wink.

Sometime in the night the ship docks in port. Snafu sleeps peacefully. Eugene hears the commotion but decides to stay in bed.

He doesn't move until dawn comes and he can feel Snafu wake up with the sun. Before the pirate can get out of bed, Eugene rolls over and looks him straight in the eye. He grabs Snafu around the waist and shuffles closer until they're nose to nose.

Snafu smiles disarmingly and he looks a little nervous, but he doesn't pull away. "You're home now," He tells Eugene, and jerks his head towards the window.

Eugene kisses him.

He kisses Snafu every chance he gets. In bed, out of bed, in between putting clothes on, after organizing the mess of papers from last night, before making plans to go into port - whenever there is a brief opening Eugene drags Snafu close, gets his hands in his curls, and presses their lips together desperately.

Every time they break apart, Snafu's smile grows wider and more confident.

And every time Eugene doesn't want to let go.

He briefly wonders how long he can convince his father to keep Captain Shelton in port for "scurvy treatment". But then he rejects that idea because he knows how much the delay would disappoint Snafu's next plans.

Which only leaves one option - Eugene has to find a way to go with them.

He keeps this new idea to himself. They still have to meet his father after all. Snafu needs to get a fake scurvy checkup, and the pirate deserves to collect the substantial reward the governor offered for Eugene's safe return. So he follows along with Snafu's plans to go into town.

Before they leave the ship, Eugene pauses on the gangplank, a sailor's bag full of gifted old clothes swung over his shoulder to remember the crew by. He turns back, to admire the ship. The Boat is beautiful, so early in the morning, the sails already providing roost to dozens of honking gulls.

Eugene has a soft spot in his heart for the annoying birds, as loud as they are. Snafu likes to brag he uses the gulls for target practice, but Eugene has never seen him actually hit one.

"Santa Alma," Snafu says, already farther down on the gangplank but waiting patiently for Eugene to catch up. The pirate is looking at his ship with pride.

"Saint what?" Eugene asks.

"Alma. That's the real name of my ship, Sledgehammer," Snafu explains with the most shit eating grin Eugene has ever seen, "'Boat's easier to say, though. So don't go spreading it around."

Snafu has that look about him - when he's smiling and happy and fully alive, exuding energy - that's irresistible.

Eugene laughs. He strides down the last few steps of the gangplank, snatches Snafu's feathered monstrosity off his head (it might've been a gull at one point), and uses the giant hat to hide their faces when he pulls Snafu into a final lingering kiss.

He's decided. This isn't him coming home, this is only a stop in a port to let his father know he is alive and well. He doesn't care about any of his old, petty responsibilities anymore. His old concerns seem shallow in the wake of everything he has been through.

He tightens his hold around Snafu's waist.

He's not going to let go. He will be leaving with Snafu. His family will understand.

Some part of this thought process must come across in their kiss, because Snafu gently pushes him away and looks up into Eugene's face curiously.

Which conveniently is also when his father's soldiers decide to converge on them both.

AND THEN PERSIPNEI’S SECOND BIT STARTS.....

#sledgefu #sledgefu pirate au #bad germs

41 notes · View notes

jeonakookie · 5 years ago

Text

I Wish (1)

Pairing: JungkookxOC

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Zoya and Jungkook had lost touch years ago. When a situation brings them back into each other lives, they try to go back to how things were as best friends once again. But a lot can change in 8 years. People. Feelings.

Masterlist

Zoya would class herself as a regular girl. Nothing too special or extraordinary about her. Unless you count once being best friends with a member of the biggest boy group right now.

Zoya was sat backstage taking in the empty surroundings of the waiting room apart from the numerous sofas that formed a rectangle with a table in the middle. As she fiddled with the ends of her scarf, she couldn’t help but let her mind wonder back to when she was younger.

___

“Amma! Why are we leaving? I don’t want to leave!” The 5-year-old girl complained. Moving from place to place was not an unfamiliar occurrence in Zoya’s life, but it was not something she could ever get used to. She was leaving her friends and family behind to move to South Korea, a different country on a whole other continent.

“Zoya, we’ve talked about this. We’re moving and that’s the end of this conversation. Now get in the car, I’m coming with the last bag.” Zoya’s mother, Sara, said as she gave the girl a pointed look.

The little girl trudged her way to the back seat of the car, her short black hair bouncing with every exaggerated loud step she took to show her annoyance to her mother, which only led to her shouting after her. “You better lighten those steps missy!”

Joining her baby brother, who giggled and looked back at her with a childlike wonder, Zoya sighed as she played with him.

“Okay! That was the last one. We ready?” Sara asked as she got in the passenger seat of the car.

A disgruntled “yeah” from Zoya lead to her father saying “Okay, off to the airport then.”

Zoya was in a constant sour mood as her mum and dad figured where to go and when, and Adam was entertained by the goings on of the airport and kept gurgling out baby noises. By the time they had arrived at the place that they’d come to call home, the sun had set a while ago. Zoya’s parents had a make shift sleeping area set up for the night, as their furniture wouldn’t arrive till the next morning.

The next morning, Zoya’s parents were busy as the moving trucks had finally arrived and they were assisted in getting everything in the right places. This left Zoya to hang around in the garden with Adam.

Sat on the grass, playing with her little brother, Zoya noticed from the corner of her eye, movement from the window of the house beside them. A boy was peeking through the windows and as soon as his eyes met Zoya’s he quickly ducked out of the way. She squinted to see if anyone was still there and after seeing no one there anymore, Zoya went back to entertaining Adam.

Not long after, the house was fully furnished, and everything was unpacked. Zoya sat on the sofa and got comfortable watching a cartoon on the television. She got excited as her favourite cartoon was on, only to frown when Korean flew out of the characters mouths. As Zoya slumped in her seat on the sofa, there was a knock on the door suddenly. Sara came out of the kitchen to open the door as Zoya peeked around the corner out of curiosity.

At the door stood a woman that looked a little older than Sara, she held a container in her hand and spoke in Korean, surprisingly Sara replied back in Korean as well. Zoya was not aware that her mother spoke Korean. The woman then replied in broken English, “It’s to welcome you as neighbours, I bought some traditional food.” Zoya’s mother accepted the food and kindly thanked the woman in what seemed both English and Korean. The woman soon after left and Zoya asked “ Amma who was that? Why do you know Korean?”

“That was our new neighbour, she has a son your age, you might see him at school tomorrow and Amma knows only a little Korean so far, after all we are living in Korea.” Sara put the container given by their kind neighbour away and the little girl followed close by. She sighed as her mother mentioned school.

“I’m scared Amma. No one will like me, and I don’t know any Korean. I won’t have friends.” She whined. The woman crouched down to be at the same level as the girl.

“It’s okay to be scared at new situations. Don’t worry, everything will be fine. You’ll be okay and will make new friends. Amma loves you and so will everyone else.” She smiled at Zoya and gave her a hug before going back to cooking dinner.

After dinner, Zoya was given a quick shower, before getting ready to go to bed. The little girl fell asleep with worried thoughts of her first day of school in this new place.

“Okay, be safe and try to make friends. Amma has to go now,” Sara was at eye level with Zoya and fiddled with her school uniform to make sure she was presentable. “Now give me a hug. Bye.” With a hug and a kiss Sara walked out of the school leaving Zoya to face the toughest situation she’d been in all her 5 years of life.

She walked into the classroom, absent of its teacher, and took a seat. Zoya could practically feel all the eyes on her. She kept her head ducked down, avoiding the curious gazes. The scrape of the metal legs of the chair next to Zoya caused her to look up and meet eyes with a boy who immediately looked away. A wave of déjà vu came over Zoya, why did that feel so familiar? Zoya could feel the boys gaze on her and turned to him only for him to look away and she too turned back to staring ahead. She felt his eyes again and, once again, as soon as she looked his way he tore his gaze from her. As soon as she looked away again she knew he was looking at her again, so she whipped around, “What?! What do you want? It’s very rude to stare you know.” She snapped, crossing her arms with a frown. The boy sat wide eyed with a panicked look. He had no clue what she had just said but it caused the boy to look down and stutter out a phrase in Korean, either that or he was saying ‘me and her’ with weird pronunciation. He then meekly looked up and said a sentence that sounded familiar to her ears. “Hello, I am Jungkook.’ Zoya seemed comforted by that which caused her to utter a sentence she had practiced with her mother repeatedly on the way to school. "Annyeonghaseyo. Jeoneun Zoya-imnida.” She ended with a smile which he returned.

___

Zoya smiled to herself at the fond memory of the first time she met Jungkook. It turned out he was her neighbour and the peeping boy at the window. They soon became the closest of friends and grew even closer as time passed. They were best friends, and nothing could tear them apart, until the beginning of their second year in middle school came around. Zoya and her family moved back to England and, whilst promises were made to stay in contact, like many friendships time and distance took its toll; Zoya and Jungkook slowly faded out of each other’s lives.

The last time they had talked was when Jungkook mentioned he had moved to Seoul to join a company. Jungkook had always expressed his passion for singing and it never wavered as the years went on. So, she was happy for him, happy that he was following his dream. However, that dream came at a cost. Being a trainee demanded a lot of Jungkook’s time and it ultimately lead to them losing contact.

However, losing contact never stopped Zoya from cheering on for Jungkook’s dreams and she was elated when she heard news of his debut. The struggles of Jungkook and his group members broke her heart, but years went by and BTS grew bigger and bigger and were now proclaimed as the biggest boy group in the world and Zoya couldn’t be prouder. The years of following Jungkook’s progress to becoming an idol also introduced her to his group members who she was very fond of, just as any fan would be. She was an ARMY, and as much as she wished otherwise, that’s all she would ever be, because Zoya didn’t really know Jungkook anymore. He had grown, and so had she. They were people who once knew each other in the past.

And so, after nearly 8 years of not seeing her childhood best friend, of course she bought tickets to see her favourite group when they finally came to her country. An amazing time in London, a mind-blowing performance, feeling of euphoric happiness- those were the things Zoya expected. What she didn’t expect was to be sitting in BTS’ waiting room just as the show was going to start.

The chanting of the fans could be clearly heard from the waiting room. The boys had just left before Zoya was taken to sit in the room, to rest.

Zoya had managed to walk into a hard pole in her search for toilets that had no queue. Luck would have it that she then proceeded to almost get run over by a black van. To make sure she was okay, she was led into the building and in a waiting room. Turns out the black van had Big Hit staff members.

Suddenly Zoya whipped out her phone, realising her friends must be worried about where she’d disappeared to. As expected there were numerous messages from her friends and, with a quick message that said she was okay and would not be able to make the concert, she put the phone on silent knowing she’d receive more questions about why she was going to miss it.

She had met Alice, Lauren and Hope when she moved back to England. Zoya was fluent in English thanks to her mother, so she didn’t struggle communicating when coming back. Most people just assumed she moved from somewhere in England and she didn’t bother to correct anyone. That was until years later when K-pop was on the rise and her friends had shown her their interest in Korean pop music, that she confessed to her friends that she had moved from Busan, where she lived a good portion of her life.

As expected, there was shock. The gist of the conversation was:

'What? Why didn’t you tell us?’

'It just never came up.’

'That you came from a WHOLE OTHER COUNTRY?’

'Yep’.

It really popped off when she told them about Jungkook. Only around a year ago, Zoya told her friends about her history with Jungkook.

___

The blank faces staring back at her didn’t surprise her, so Zoya patiently waited for her friends to process the information. What she didn’t expect was an outburst of laughter from the girls.

“Are you guys okay?” She questioned.

“Zoya, you’re killing me. Is this one of your dreams again?” Lauren was still giggling.

“You have crazy dreams. So weird.” Alice piped up.

“Ah Zoya, that was a good one.” Hope commented.

With a straight face, Zoya just looked at them until they finished laughing and they got the message. Once they took notice, they all started looking shocked.

“You are kidding right?” Lauren asked. With a shake of her head, Zoya was suddenly slapped on the arm.

“Ow! What the hell?!” She exclaimed.

“How could you not tell us this critical information?” Alice exclaimed with an incredulous expression.

“I just did!” Zoya replied with the same volume.

“Yeah, like 5 years later!”

“Okay. But, one, did we speak? No. Two, did you know what K-Pop was? No. Three, did you know who BTS WAS? No!” Alice looked at Zoya with a deadpan face. “Yeah, you know I’m right. Sit down.”

Alice merely rolled her eyes and muttered “Whatever.”.

“So, you actually knew him? Like KNEW HIM?” Lauren says with a dazed look in her eyes. Zoya replied with a “Yep.”

“This doesn’t sound real, I’m still trying to process it.” Alice said, along with the others agreeing.

“Well, I haven’t spoken to him in over 7 years and haven’t seen him…” Before any of her friends try to make a smart comment Zoya emphasises “IN PERSON for even longer. I barely know him anymore, so it’s not that big of a deal. He’d probably barely recognise me if we ever met again.” Zoya leaned back on the sofa, yet again shrugging. Her nonchalant attitude was to cover the fact that she was slightly scared that what she said was true, and that thought hurt her more than she was willing to admit.

A/N Hi guys. This is mostly a little background on Zoya’s life. Jungkook will be in the next part. If you like it so far, be sure to comment and like.

-A

Masterlist

#bts #bts fanfic #jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst #bts funny #south asian #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #hope you guys like it

18 notes · View notes