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obessedwithfictionalmen · 11 months ago

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I hate/love you

John Egan X Plane mechanics! Reader

Summary: Bucky "hates" the new mechanics...

Warning: Ennemis to lover/ smut/ 18+/ p in v/ oral sex (m and f receiving)/ unprotected sex/ swearing/ use of Y/n/ violence/

Word count: 3.2k

She didn’t know why, but he infuriated her. His cocky attitude, his dumb moustache, his curly hair and his devilish smile. But sadly, she had to see him everyday, as a W.A.C, she had to be on the base all the time. She was an airplane mechanic, and for some reason, Lemmons liked to assign her to work on John Egan’s plane each time his plane needed to be fixed. At first, he didn’t bother her, but time went by, and he started to bother her; his plane had a weird noise, he blamed it on her, the mission didn’t go well, blamed it on her and the weather was shitty, it was Y/n’s fault. She needed that job, and beside him, she loved her job. When the planes came back today, she fixed her ponytail before heading in her jeep to drive to the runway. When she arrived, she saw Major Egan’s plane and drove towards it. She took a deep breath before getting out of her car.

‘’Y/l/n, we have a problem with engine 3, it barely shut down. I thought I was going to blow up!’’ he spat. ‘’Hello Y/n, how are you, by the way I have a problem with engine 3, can you please look at it? Of course, Major, since you ask so nicely, I’ll do it right away!’’ she said sarcastically. ‘’Whatever, can you fix the plane, please’’ he taunted. Y/n snorted before rolling her eyes. ‘’Right away, Major’’ she blinked multiples times and said it with a sweet but sarcastic voice. He cursed under his breath before walking away. ‘’Girls, hook it up and bring it in the workshop’’ she ordered the other mechanics she worked with.

She’d been working on Major Egan’s plane for hours, the sun was down, and she was hungry, other girls went to bed, it was late. She decided to stay up all night to work on his plane, because recently, they flew more missions. Y/n was only going to eat, and she would go back to work after. When she entered the cafeteria, she saw the one person she couldn’t bear. ‘’You got to be fucking kidding me?’’ she mumbled, annoyed that he was here. Non the less, she took a plate that was left and went to sit as far away from him as possible. ‘’How is the fixing going?’’ he asked. She was surprised that he was speaking to her, she stops chewing for a second and swallowed her food. ‘’Good, I’m almost done, why?’’ she was genuinely curious about why he was suddenly interested in her and her work. He rose his shoulder before shaking his head. ‘’Just wanted to know, and I wondered why you were still awake’’ this hole conversation was awkward, but it was the first in a long time that they weren’t mean to the other. ‘’Because I’m fixing it alone, the girls worked hard enough today. I thought I was going to be okay alone, but it’s complicated.’’ She explained.

He rose from his seat, plate in his hands and came to sit in front of her, she was surprised. But she didn’t say anything. ‘’Maybe I could help’’ he proposed. She blinked and looked at him with a confused look. ‘’Why would you want to help me, you can’t stand me and then you want to help me’’ she states. He scoffs and looks at his plate. ‘’Yeah, you’re right, but I want my plane ready for tomorrow’’ he fakes smiles. Y/n rolls her eyes and exhales. ‘’Alright’’ she breaths out.

She ties her overall around her waist, it’s so hot inside the workshop. Her hair is in some kind of a messy bun, but it’s too messy to tell. She has a white tank top that’s covered in grease. ‘’Can you pass me the screwdriver?’’ she asked as she whipped the sweat off her face with a tissue. ‘’Which one?’’ he asked, looking at the table were the tools are. She rolled her eyes and pointed one screwdriver on the table. ‘’No, not that one’’ she exhaled. He scoffed in annoyance. ‘’Which one, Y/n? There’s like 7 screwdrivers on the table’’ he exclaimed. She slid down the plane, he looked at her breast as she did so. She took the famous screwdriver and took a breath. ‘’Can you help me get back up?’’ she asked. He nodded and began helping her get up. His hand came close to her butt. ‘’If you touch my ass, I swear I’ll sabotage the engine’’ she warned. ‘’It’s either your ass or you fall’’ he sighed. ‘’I’d rather fall’’ she muttered as his hand pushed her ass up to help her. She puts her legs each side of the plane and bends over to reach the engine. Bucky had a perfect view of her ass.

‘’Can you start it up?’’ Y/n asked. Bucky was seated in the cockpit, waiting for the woman to boss him around. He kind of found it convenient, because for a wicked reason, he had a boner. He spent almost 45 minutes watching her ass and that white tank top embraced her tits beautifully. Even though she was seated next to him, he could try and hide his growing problem. When he started the plane, the engine sputtered a little bit before fully starting. ‘’Christ on a stick! It’s working!’’ she cheered, resting her arms behind her head, making her tits pop out a little bit. ‘’You kiss people with that mouth?’’ he teased. ‘’I kiss whoever I want with that mouth’’ she replied. She turned to look at him, but when her eyes trailed down, she noticed a weird shape on his pants. She scoffed as she looked at him in the eyes. ‘’I thought you hated me’’ she laughed. He fixed his jacket, to try to hide it, even though it wasn’t necessary anymore. ‘’It’s a hate boner, I swear!’’ he exclaimed. She laughed even harder; she couldn’t believe he was hard right now. ‘’Shut up!’’ he exclaimed. ‘’Make me’’ she dared.

Before he could do something about it, the bomb raid siren was heard. They quickly got out of the plane and made their way to separate bunkers, she couldn’t believe she almost kissed him; him! Why was she feeling like this, all flustered and hot. She tried to get him out of her head, but even the bombs dropping near by couldn’t distract her. Neither could they distract him, plus he still had that stupid boner he needed to get rid of.

That morning, she woke up after having a wet dream about him. It was disturbingly hot, and she couldn’t get it out of her head. It made her angry, why the hell was her brain sex dreaming about him?! She got dressed in a new pair of overalls as she made her way inside the cafeteria, she spotted him instantly. She shook her head as she made her way to her table with her girls. Y/n tried to ignore him, without success. ‘’Hey! Bitch, can you come fix my engine!’’ one pilot said. It was something the girls were used too, but Y/n was not having it, not this morning. She got up and looked at the man. ‘’The fuck did you say?’’ she confronts him. ‘’Come here and fix my engine’’ the man had his hands in his pants. She scoffed. ‘’As if you had an engine to fix’’ she sassed. The girls at the table laughed and the man reacted. ‘’Why are you being such a skank?’’ he spat. Bucky looked at the man. ‘’Dude just shut up already!’’ he groaned. Y/n was surprised and mentally cursed herself and her uterus for reacting the way it just did. The sexist man sat back down and so did Y/n. ‘’That was amazing’’ one of the younger girls exclaims. ‘’Thanks – ‘’ she cuts her off. ‘’Yes you, but Bucky protecting you’’ Anna giggled. Y/n rolled her eyes and scoffed. ‘’Whatever, my coffee is not finished and it’s too early to have this conversation’’ she said.

No one had the right to be an asshole to her but him! Who did this guy this he was anyway?! ‘’What the hell was that?’’ Curt asked. ‘’What was what?’’ he asked. ‘’That, standing up for her’’ he said, moving his hand in a circular shape. ‘’That was nothing, that dude was annoying.’’ He tried to explain. The guys at the table didn’t believe it, but they didn’t want to push him. He watched her from the corner of his eyes, he couldn’t believe what happened last night, he almost kissed her if it wasn’t for this damn siren, who know what would’ve happened.

‘’Faster please’’ she moaned. He was trusting inside of her as one of his hands played with her breast. ‘’I love it when you beg for me like that. It makes you sound so desperate’’ he teased as he rolled his hips harder, hitting her g-spot. She arched her back as she rolled her eyes. ‘’Keep rolling your eyes like that’’ he ordered.

She was zoned out, thinking about her wet dream. Anna snaped her fingers in her face. Y/n shook her head as she looked at Anna. ‘’What?’’ she mumbled. ‘’What planet were you on?’’ she chuckled. ‘’Let’s go, we have to do some touch up on planes’’ Y/n got up and went outside. Bucky watched her as she left, looking at her ass as she passed next to him.

She jumped out of the plane since everything was okay, but she was in front of the prick from this morning. ‘’I just fixed your actual plane, your welcome’’ she smirked. ‘’Thank you, bitch’’ he spat. Y/n whipped her hands on a tissue. ‘’Shut up, asshole’’ she responded. Before she knew it, he grabbed her by the throat and pressed her against the plane. ‘’I’ve had enough of your bratty attitude. You’re going to do as I say. Now say Yes Chris’’ the man named Chris ordered. Y/n had enough room to try to fight. She tried to wiggle her way out of his grip, Chris’s hand loosens his grip, only to slap her. But Y/n took the opportunity to hit him in the balls. Chris falls on the ground, moaning in pain. ‘’Fuck you, Chris’’ Y/n says, out of breath, before walking away.

When he saw her walking with a bloody nose, he felt worried about her. What the fuck happened? He walked up to her, trying to contain his anger. ‘’Oh, hi Major’’ she said, surprised to see him. ‘’Who did this to you?’’ he asked, touching her upper arm to prevent her to walk away. ‘’No one, I, uh, hurt myself while fixing the plane.’’ She lied. He knew she lied. ‘’Who. Did. This. To. You?’’ he insisted. ‘’Chris, the guy from this morning. But I dealt with him. Kicked him in the balls’’ she admitted. ‘’I’m going to fucking kill him’’ he mumbled.

A bloody Chris was walking towards her, she was so confused. ‘’Y/n, I’m sorry for slapping you.’’ He sounded nervous. ‘’It’s, uh, okay? Are you being held at gun point?’’ she asked, concerned. ‘’Kind of, Bucky said he’ll kill me if I touch you again, and he hit me’’ he explained. She scoffed, in complete shock. ‘’Apology accepted’’ she mumbled. She turned around and walked to her room. When she closed the door, she was still in shock. ‘’WHAT THE FUCK?!’’ she exclaimed.

He saw her coming from the air, driving her jeep like a champion. He was still angry with Chris, that idiot had no right to touch her like this. When he landed, Y/n practically ran to his plane. ‘’Hey, Y/n, the engine 3 is still messing around, could you look at it please?’’ he asked nicely. ‘’Are you sick or something or was that you actually being nice to me?’’ she said ironically. She looked at her colleagues. ‘’Hook it up and bring it to the workshop, like usual!’’ she mumbled the last part. ‘’No, I’m not sick, I just tried to be nice’’ he said. ‘’Okay, that’s weird, but nice. I gotta go’’ she said, in a monotonous tone. ‘’Hey, uh, could I help you out later?’’ he asked, scratching the back of his head. ‘’Sure, whatever’’ she jumped into her jeep and drove away.

She was alone, working on the goddam 3rd engine of this freaking plane. She heard the door opened; she didn’t see who it was. ‘’Anna, I told you to go to sleep!’’ She said, keeping her head down. The person that was in the room didn’t respond. ‘’Hello?’’ she asked. ‘’Hey, you’’ Bucky said, walking beside the plane, looking up at her. ‘’Major, you scared me’’ she breathed out. She slid down the plane, landing in front of him. He watched her tits, again. ‘’I have a question’’ she asked, wiping her hands on her overall. ‘’What’s up buttercup?’’ he said. She rolled her eyes. ‘’Did you punched Chris this morning and threatened him if he didn’t apologise to me?’’ she asked. He smirked and proudly nodded. ‘’Are you kidding me?!’’ she shouted. ‘’Not at all, that asshole had it coming’’ he stated. ‘’I can’t believe you. And I clearly don’t understand you either?’’ she exclaimed. She tried to climb up the plane, but almost fell. He did like he did yesterday, put his hands on her ass. But it annoyed her. ‘’Put those hands away!’’ she snapped.

Bucky was walking her up to her room, he didn’t want to be alone. ‘’Why did you punch Chris?’’ she blurted out. ‘’Because he was being a dick’’ he responded. She face palmed, as she started to feel rain drops on her skin, damn English weather. ‘’You can’t punch people just because they’re dicks! Otherwise, I would’ve punched you a long time ago!’’ she exclaimed. Bucky smirked. ‘’Sorry I should’ve let you handle it?’’ he raised his voice. The rain was pouring, they were both soaking wet. ‘’Maybe, I had it under control without you!’’ she exclaimed, moving her arms as she spoke. ‘’Fine! I’ll let him beat you up next time!’’ he breathed out. ‘’Why do you even care?!’’ she asked. They were both panting from the emotions. He came closer to her, practically breathing in her face. He could see her chest rising from the heavy breathing. ‘’I care because you invaded my mind. There’s not a second that goes by where I don’t think about you. The idea of another men touching you infuriates me. You’re mine, Y/n, don’t you get that?’’ he said, against her mouth. She looked at him, then his lips and his eyes again. She blushed hard. ‘’Fuck it’’ she mumbled before pressing her lips against his.

As they entered her room, he kicked the door to close it, there was no going back. The tension they felt was finally broken and they were hungry for the other. He pressed her against the wall while still holding her thigh. ‘’You don’t know how much I’ve thought about this’’ he growled. ‘’Shut up and show it to me’’ she said eagerly. ‘’Bossy, I like it’’ he mumbled against her lips. He laid her down on the bed, taking her overall off at the same time. ‘’God you’re breathtaking’’ he praised. ‘’And you talk too much’’ she said, pulling him by the tie to kiss him. Their tongue danced together as she worked a way to take his shirt off. She trailed her hands on his abs, biting her lips. ‘’How can we go from hating each other to wanting to do the most unholy things to the other’’ she teased. ‘’Right now, I don’t hate you’’ he said, unbuckling his pants. She crawled to the end of the bed, where he was up. She seated in front of him, her face was right in front of his hard dick. She looked at him, her eyes were killing him, so innocent, yet filled with dirty thoughts. Y/n took her shirt off and threw it on the ground, she didn’t wear a bra, so she was left in her panties. Her hand was touching his lower stomach, she loved how his breath deepened when she was near his boxer line. She gently tugged them down, still maintaining eye contact. Slowly, she took his length in her mouth, pressing kisses to the tip, before fully taking him inside her mouth, he let out a shaky breath. ‘’Oh shit’’ he moaned. She started to bob her head at a sensual pace, maintaining eye contact with him. Bucky’s hand found her hair and pulled it slightly, from pleasure. ‘’If you keep doing this I’m going to cum.’’ He warns, she giggled, the vibration making him moan. ‘’Afraid you can’t keep up, Major?’’ she teased. He lifted her by under the shoulder, he made her back up from the bed, he laid down between her legs.

‘’Tell me, do you care about those panties?’’ he asked, she shook her head in confusion. He tears her panties off, like actually rips them off her body. ‘’Did you just?’’ she looks at him, confused. ‘’I’ll buy you a new pair’’ he said before diving in between her legs. He kissed her inner thigh before pressing small kisses on her clitoris. She moaned as she arched her back, he smirked as he continued his work. Y/n’s hand found his hair, tugging hard. He was grinning like the town idiot. ‘’As much as I’m enjoying this. Please Major, fuck me, please’’ she begged. He thought he was going to faint; she was begging him to fuck her. ‘’God, you’re so pretty when you beg’’ he grins.

He rests on top of her, she bucks her hips, trying to have contact. ‘’Look at you, so desperate for my cock’’ he teased. ‘’News flash, Major, you crave my pussy too’’ she moans against his lips. With one trust, he penetrates her, she arches her back and moans his name. ‘’Keep moaning my name like that, shit’’ he moaned. She bites her lips, trying to hold her moan. Bucky rocks his hips to a fast pace, they’re both close and crave a relief. Her breast that he like so much bounce up and down with every trust, he lowers his head to go and kiss them. She tried to match his pace with her hips, but her walls were clenching, and her breath quickened. A part of her didn’t want this to be over, but it felt too good to hold back. ‘’Come on, Y/n, come for me, let me hear those pretty sounds. Come for me’’ he praised. That was all she needed to let the knot explode in her stomach, she came hard, her back arched even more and she was saying his name like it was a prayer. He kept thrusting into her for a split second before releasing into her, he growled her name as he crashed on top of her. ‘’Y/n’’ he moaned.

She was playing with his curls; they were still naked and tangled up together. ‘’I’m sorry for all the mean things I said to you’’ he apologized. ‘’Trust me, I forgive you’’ she giggled. He chuckled before kissing the top of her head. ‘’I have to go; I have a mission tomorrow’’ he sadly announces. ‘’It’s okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, Major’’ she said, smiling to him. As he was getting dressed, he kept looking at her, smiling to her as he did so. ‘’I’ll see you tomorrow, my dear’’ he said, kissing her before he left. That was definitely not a one time thing for them…

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #john egan x reader #master of the air imagine #major john egan #john egan #john egan smut

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xxsabitoxx · 2 years ago

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My Personal Hashira 🍆 Size Ranking

Warning: if it ain’t obvious, this contains smut lmao — therefore Muichiro is 100% not included in this. We’re talking about 🍆, length, girth, all the fun stuff. So if PPs make you uncomfortable keep on scrolling babes </3

A/N: these low key stress me out cause I feel like people can get pretty defensive over these types of Headcanons. Especially if my own thought differs from yours. Regardless, these are just my personal takes/HCs. My word is not law so do not be upset if my HC does not match yours / don’t feel the need to change how you HC these things to fit my POV. This is why I refrain from describing size in my fics, I want y’all to imagine it in a way that you like lololol

Lastly, idgaf if you see some of this as unrealistic, these are fake, fictional drawings of men, if I wanna give Gyomei a 44ft long 🍆, I can and will (I didn’t but you get the point.) Anyways enjoy my personal thoughts on this matter

1. Himejima Gyomei

Is anyone fucking shocked that this 7’2 (220cm) man is packing the biggest schlong among the male Hashira?

I mean let’s be logical real quick, his dick is as big as the rest of him. This man’s dick is dragging on the floor.

Soft: 11.2

Hard: 12.3

Call it unrealistic idgaf this man is LONG

Girthy too, he’s fucking beefy all over

This man’s dick will feel like he’s shoving his wrist up in there ong bro

It curves downward slightly when hard, I mean shit that thing is heavy, it stands no chance against gravity

2. Uzui Tengen

Again, the man is 6’6 (198cm).

Height comes into play when it comes to our two tank Hashira

Therefore none of you should be surprised that they are the top two

Soft: 9

Hard: 10.3

Your guts are getting rearranged, he knows the length he has but often underestimates how far he can go…

He’s long but doesn’t have a crazy girth to him, which thank fuck it doesn’t take as much prep to take him

He’s pretty straight when hard and manages to flex it and keep it up (he totally does dick tricks & you can’t convince me otherwise)

3. Tomioka Giyu

I’m standing by my “big dick Giyu” head canon. I just know this man is packing a weapon down there

What’s crazy is he wasn’t even aware of how good he had it until he overheard other corps members chatting

Soft: 6.3

Hard: 7.4

He’s got a decent girth and as weird as it may sound, it’s pretty, like really pretty to look at

When hard, it curves upwards and stands at attention which makes him a bit embarrassed

He knows how to use it, because of that he’s pretty confident in that aspect which is wild for him

He will also rearrange your guts unintentionally (or intentionally hehe)

4. Shinazugawa Sanemi

I don’t wanna hear one PEEP from any of you that Sanemi should be above Giyu.

My man is forth on the list but that ain’t mean shit, he’s still got a lot going on down there

Soft: 6

Hard: 7

He’s girthy, will tear you up girth, needs thirty minutes of prep minimum because of how wildly he fucks girth

He sticks straight out, no curve in sight and honestly looks like he defies gravity.

He’s like Tengen, can do dick tricks. But unlike Tengen he doesn’t make that known / show you lmao.

He’ll break your back, he may even hurt you (fully unintentional) if he gets too into it. That thing is fr a weapon

5. Rengoku Kyojuro

He’s fifth on the list but trust me he’s not lacking

He’s second smallest, but he’s not small, if you get what I mean. It’s kinda like how we rank the Hashira weakest to strongest but regardless they are still the strongest in the corps… that make sense?

Soft: 5.8

Hard: 6.8

He curves upwards, very prominent veins running along his shaft (heh, shaft)

Girth wise, he’s about normal. Not too intimidating but def offers you a good stretch, forgoing prep is real bold tbh

He’s a quick learner so he quickly masters how to fuck you

He will strive to go as far as your body will let him, so expect to be bruised / sore

6. Iguro Obanai

My king. He may be “smallest” among the Hashira men, but that doesn’t mean shit.

He’s not self conscious of his dick, he knows how to use it. He’s also pretty content with it’s size

Soft: 5.6

Hard: 6.5

See? You can’t come for me cause he ain’t even SMALL

Obanai’s dick is pretty, too. It curves upwards slightly, since he’s pretty pale, his veins are prominent

He’s got an average girth, he doesn’t need to prep you forever to get you ready. Which works in his favor cause he likes to “punish” you with no prep & going in raw

He can and will abuse your cunt, he’s not satisfied until you genuinely can’t walk without limping for a few days

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thetorturedfagdepartment · 4 months ago

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⇢ ˗ˏˋ Halloween Heartbeat ࿐ྂ

A/N: Hiii!!! First fic + Real post on tumblr :3 I hope you guys enjoy this fic! I took a good amount of time on it and hope to get it to 3 chapters before Halloween ends! Anywho enjoy!!! (Also I put it into grammarly so I hope the spelling and grammar is good…)

Tags: Fluff, Modern Au, Halloween Horror nights, Scare Actor Ellie, Ellie x F Reader, Strangers to Lovers?, Men DNI!!!

Your friends love Halloween Horror Nights! You on the other hand— not so much… You guys had just made it out of a house and god were you panicked… Breathing heavy, hands sweaty, vision a little blurry—

“Hey you okay?” one of your friends says placing their hand on your shoulder causing you to jump. “Damn hey chill— we can leave if you want—“

“No!” You shout cutting them off “I’m good I’ll just wait outside the next one.”

Your friends nod and they head to the next house. They wave you goodbye and you stand outside. You see a sweet treat spot across the house and make your way over. The area was crowded and filled with people in costumes, and scare actors and you just tried to stay calm and ignore it.. until a scare actor with short messy auburn hair came up behind you with a chainsaw, she pulled it and it rumbled. You let out a piercing scream, mixed with some tears. She freezes and sees how panicky you are. She then starts to feel bad causing her to break character.

“Hey, Hey, Hey… it’s fake.” She turns it off and touches the blades “See fake.”

You nod and wipe the tears, you have been filled with so much fear and anxiety since you got here.

“S—sorry… I’m usually not this pathetic.” You chuckle and she shakes her head.

“You’re not pathetic, everyone gets scared..” She smiled, you see her pretty eyes and freckles. Although they were mostly covered by the fake blood she had on. She had baggy jeans and a somewhat white tank top drenched in blood and fake cuts all over her. “I’m Ellie,” she extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie,” you shake her hand and exchange introductions. She was really sweet.

“Actually um— I’m about to start my break how about I meet you in there and buy you a treat?” She says with a warm smile that sends shivers down your spine. You look over and notice your friends have just gotten out of the house.

“I— um—.. oh my friends are back.” You say turning her down.

She seems very upset as you reject her.

“Omg we leave you alone for like 3 minutes and you already get a girl?” One of your friend’s jokes.

“Come onnn, tell us who’s the lady who stole our best friend…” Another one says shaking you gently.

“I’m Ellie, don’t worry guys I’m just about to hand her back. But first I want your number. If that’s okay..?”

You think for a second and nod smiling with a faint blush. You then take out your phone and exchange numbers.

“Heh.. thanks I’ll see you around.” She walks away leaving you with your friends cheering for you getting her number.

—

A few weeks had passed since then, and you and Ellie have begun texting often. She makes you laugh, smile, and blush, every time you guys text its butterflies. She just knows how to make you happy.. Ellie told you what time her shift ended and she had given you some sneaky tickets to come back whenever. You decide maybe it’s time to surprise her..

You get into a cute outfit hoping she’ll like it, even throwing on some makeup… just to give yourself an extra bit of pizazz. You head out the door looking super cute— all just for her.

As you arrive and head into the park, all of the anxiety from a few weeks ago comes right back. The loudness, the people, the scare actors… it’s all just too much. You walk into the gates and brace yourself. Ellie said she's over in the Terror Tram today.. Perfect. Far. You brace yourself, walking through the crowd, and scare zones trying to not cry and pee yourself. One specific actor wouldn’t leave you alone. He chases you through the entire zone. You scream and run quickly but he won’t leave! You end up bumping into someone.

A familiar freckled auburn-haired girl just so happens to be the one you run into…

“Hey, hey.. what’s going on it’s me… w—wait why are you here..?” She tries to calm you down and reassure you, but she’s a bit confused as to why you’re here.

“H—he—he won’t stop chasing me!” You point at the tall man with nice black hair and clown makeup on, who just so happened to have been chasing you with a knife.

“Him? Oh, that’s Jesse.. Jesse!! Get your ass over here!” Ellie calls him over. You then grab her hand and stand next to her.

“Yeah, Elles? Oh look you caught her!” He chuckles. He’s taller, sorta broad, and has medium-length black hair.

“Leave her alone. She’s my — uh…” she blushes and looks away “—friend…”

“Oh, so I’m just a friend now?” You chuckle nudging her.

“Hush.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Ellie’s just a friend. I’m Ellie’s friend Jesse, and that’s Dina another one of our friends.” He points to a pretty girl dressed up as a killer broken doll.

“Friends? You guys broke up again.” Ellie shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

“You know Dina…” Jesse shakes his head.

You seeing Ellie interact with her friend is kinda cute.. it’s a side you had yet to see of her, and now you’re worried you won’t be able to get it out of your head.. after a few moments they start saying bye.

“Well see ya, I’m still on the clock, and apologies for scaring the shit out of you,” Jesse says as he walks off.

“He seems nice, you know not when he acts like he’s gonna kill me…” you say giving her a dorky smile.

“Yeah, now what are you doing here? I told you my shift was over soon remember I was gonna go to your place.” She says shaking her head and letting out some tongue clicks.

“I know!!! I just wanted to surprise you…”

“Hey that’s really cute and sweet but I don’t want you coming here by yourself knowing you’re gonna be scared,” Ellie says giving you a reassuring smile.

“Okay, okay.. fine I won’t do it again.” You then smile back at her.

“Atta girl. Now, I’m off the clock, and its uhhhh 10 pm? How about we go grab some fast food and head back to your place, I’ll get the food and you set up your living room for a fun hangout night, huh?” Ellie smiles, and a cute pink rose tint appears on her freckled cheeks.

You agree and like Ellie says she heads over to grab some burgers, fries, drinks, and a nice ice cream each for you guys. As you wait for her you set up the living room. On your way home you decided to get some Halloween things. Such as cute spooky blankets, some cobwebs, fake pumpkins, and cute little ghost plushies. You dimmed the lights and sat on the couch waiting for her.

Ellie comes in with the food and locks your door back.

“Woahhhh cute.. I really like how you decorated the place. You know, you didn’t need to do all that.” Ellie says setting the food down and handing you, your drink. She shakes her head and chuckles taking a seat next to you.

“Yeah, I know but I wanted to make the living room look all cute..” You blush slightly and grab the food.

“So what is this like a date now?” Ellie says taking a bite of her burger.

“… if you want it to be…” you then look her in the eyes.

“I— um .. w—well yeah…” Ellie blushes feeling a bit flustered and jittery inside. It’s been a while since she had felt this way. Maybe a little too long..?

You nod your head and you guys eat dinner, with a little bit of chit-chatting here and there. You guys finish the burgers and fries and eat your ice cream cuddling on the couch.

Eventually, Ellie clears her throat and brings up the topic of movies.

“Sooo what do you wanna watch pretty girl.”

Pretty girl…

“Uhh I don’t know, I’m not that much into horror so as long as it’s not that I’m fine.” You say taking a lick of your ice cream.

“I should’ve guessed that.. well come on we have to watch something spooky or at least like with mythical creatures!” Ellie nudges you and laughs.

“Okay then..”

You get up and grab a DVD, you then insert it in your PlayStation.

“A DVD? Come on how old are you 40?” Ellie says with a stupid snort-laugh.

You then play your DVD and Ellie has no clue what you put on.

“Soooo what did you choose?”

“You’ll see…”

“I swear to god if it’s stupid I’m literally gonna murder you.. this time with a real chainsaw.” Ellie groans and you guys finish your ice creams and lay back.

Then the intro rolls in.

“You’re fucking kidding me right..? Twilight.” Ellie groans, rubbing her face, and shoves you off of her.

“Come on what’s so bad with Twilight!” You then scoot back over and flick her nose causing it to scrunch.

“It’s corny! I always cringe! I mean the plot is good it’s just cringe all right!!” Ellie whines but soon she sucks it up for your sake.

As the movie plays Ellie makes some snobby jokes and you just bounce back. About halfway through the movie she just stares at you…

You feel her gaze and look at her. Causing her to look away, a soft blush appears on her and you giggle. Butterflies sent straight to her stomach. You don’t stop staring… you keep looking at her. She’s beautiful, how has no one already swooped her off her feet…? God you wanna kiss her— what..?

“Uh— you’re … missing the best part…” Ellie says clearing her throat and still blushing like a dork.

“I’ve seen it 1000 times… Ellie I—“ You then lean in for a kiss.

Ellie’s eyes widen as her lips press yours. She places a hand on the side of your cheek leaning towards you gently kissing you. Your hands wrap around her waist as you guys cuddle while you kiss. The kiss is long and gentle.

The kiss finally breaks and a tiny piece of salvia strings between you two. Ellie chuckles wiping her lips.

“You’re so cute..” she says smiling like a dork.

“Yeah… right back at you.”

You have no regrets about going to that stupid amusement park a few weeks ago now.

Read part 2 here!

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie fluff #lgbtq #wlw

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bookshelf-in-progress · 4 months ago

Text

From the Other Side of the End of the World

A time travel story for @inklings-challenge.

Thanks to @awesomebutunpractical, @thatscarletflycatcher, and @rogerhamleys for beta help that made it possible to finish this.

I. Josephine Forester to Rachel Forester

Agril 19, 551 T.E.

Grimsfell, North Arza

Dear Rachel,

At last! The war is over! I know my history as well as anybody, but it still took me by surprise. I sobbed with relief when news of the treaty came. We haven’t heard any shelling for three days. No more wounded have arrived. It seems like a miracle.

But the work is far from done. Grimsby Hall is still filled with wounded soldiers, and we hard-working nurses are kept busy from morning til night. It will be weeks before some of these boys are well enough to travel, and years until they are completely healed, if they ever are at all.

The suffering I’ve seen! There is little even modern medical knowledge can do to ease their pain. Their war machines are primitive—cannons, tanks, machine guns—but they've wrought destruction on the land unlike anything we could imagine in our time. If I hadn’t seen our future, I’m not sure I could believe this land could be healed, that the world could ever find peace. But I have seen it, and the hope it inspires is the greatest gift I can give to these people.

Now, more than ever, I know that I've been called here. My research will be invaluable to history, but more than that, I feel a connection to these people, this place, this time. This is where I'm meant to serve.

I have a connection to you, too, of course. Your letters always make me feel I'm right there with you. Write back soon. I want to know about everything.

Love,

Josephine

P.S. I’ve shared a couple of the stories you wrote me with some of my patients. I hope you don’t mind—they need cheering up, and there's nothing in your stories that requires knowledge of the future. They very much enjoy them.

II. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forester

Agril 32, 771 T.E

Variby University

Dear Josie,

I know it’s taken me ages to write back, but the life of a college girl is a whirlwind. I made a list of all the things I’ve done this week, so you can see that I barely had time to breathe.

Two papers, three exams, and a presentation about the life cycle of the Aribanian tree frog.

Airball playoffs and championship. (I scored twenty-eight points!)

Trip to Grimsby. Twelve of us in one car. Visited the war museum. No pictures of you. Try to pose for any cameras if you see them.

Climbed the bell tower after Ferdie dared me to. Am now the hero of the school.

It sounds terribly shallow compared to what you're going through, but if I didn’t do all these things, where would I get the charming anecdotes that fill my letters and raise your poor, war-weary spirits? Even though the war is over, it still sounds dreadful. I don’t know how you manage it. At least you'll be home soon—it's a little over a month, right?

If I ever had hopes of becoming a time traveler, your letters would burn that dream right out of me. I'm perfectly happy in the safe and cozy modern day. I'll stay here in comfort and leave the do-gooding to you.

I’m glad you could make some use out of my stories. I’ve half a mind to tell that worthless university magazine editor that they’ve proven to be truly timeless. I’ll send another one along with this letter. Let your soldiers read it to their hearts’ content.

I could tell you loads more, but I’ve got play practice in an hour. I’ve been cast as Elsie in Less Boring, and I’ve got to learn my lines. (I've been laughing my head off. Darrin Royston is a genius).

I promise I’ll write more promptly next time.

Your sister,

Rachel

III. Josephine Forester to Rachel Forester

Maj 3, 551 T.E.

Grimsfell, North Arza

Dear Rachel,

It's always good to know things are going well for you. You're right—my term is over in less than a month. I had almost forgotten. It seems impossible. There's so much I still have to do.

I don't have time to give a proper response, except to tell you that I gave your story to the most voracious reader among my patients, and he's already finished it. It's exactly the type of story that he likes best, so he's asked to write a note of appreciation to the authoress. I’ve allowed it—my letter-link isn’t all that different to the ones they have in this time period. Maybe this will make up for the magazine’s lack of appreciation for your work.

Your sister,

Josephine

IV. Darrin Royston to Rachel Forester

Maj 3, 551 T.E.

Miss Rachel Forrester,

Your sister Josephine has informed me that you are the authoress of a little tale that has brought light and joy to my sickbed. Your comic fantasy is one of the most enjoyable works of fiction I have read in recent memory. It isn’t often one finds just such a blend of the beautiful and the silly. Too often, the comic fairy tales neglect their world, while the more grounded fantasy works take themselves too seriously. Yours struck just the right note.

There's little enough cheer in the world these days, and I'm glad to find that someone still remembers its secret. I pray—if it's not too presumptuous—that you have many more such works for your sister to pass on for our amusement.

Gratefully,

Darrin Royston

V. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forrester

Maj 3, 701 T.E.

Josephine!

You let Darrin Royston read my stupid little stories?

“They’re just the kind of thing he likes to read,” she says.

Because they’re based on the kind of thing he writes! Or did write. Or will write.

How old is he?

Have we broken history?

What if, having read my stories, he doesn’t write one of his great works? How would I know if he didn’t write it? Maybe you’ve already erased a dozen masterpieces from history, and I’ll never know they were never written!

Couldn’t you have given me some kind of warning before showing my fiction to one of the great literary minds of the post-war era? I want to curl up and die at the thought of his eyes looking at my inane scribbles. I might have done it already if his letter hadn’t suggested that he, for some reason, enjoyed it.

Maybe the war shattered his sanity. Maybe he has some kind of infection. You should check.

Rachel

VI. Josephine Forester to Rachel Forester

Maj 5, 551 T.E.

Grimsfell, North Arza

Rachel,

Who is Darrin Royston? You’re the one who knows about authors. To me, Darrin Royston is a dark-haired, undersized private recovering from a broken leg, who has every right to read your stories if he wants to.

You don’t have to worry about changing history. I’ve told you before—it can’t be done. History is chronological—everything that happens as a result of time travel has always happened that way. I’m here because I was always meant to be here.

It’s possible your story inspired whatever it is that Royston wrote, but it won’t erase anything.

His words were genuine. He really did enjoy your story. Take it as a compliment. It sounds like a good one.

And maybe send another story? The boy’s going stir-crazy and he’s driving me up the wall.

Yours,

Josephine

VII. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forester

Maj 6, 701 T.E.

Josephine,

Who is Darrin Royston?

Time travel is wasted on you.

He's only one of the most brilliant writers of the last century! Poems, plays, essays, novels—you name it, he's written it. He has wit, wisdom, genius. He's a little bit niche, but you've lived with me. You should at least have known his name! I just told you I'm acting in one of his plays!

There are a million things I'd love to ask him about, but he probably hasn't done any of them yet.

What does he look like? What's he like? I need details!

Yours,

Rachel

P.S. I've sent along a nice, long story. I hope it won't destroy his opinion of my literary talents.

VIII. Josephine Forester to Rachel Forester

Maj 8, 551 T.E.

Dear Rachel,

That Darrin Royston? Now that you mention it, the name sounds familiar. You have to admit this whole situation is mildly hilarious. I never expected to accidentally introduce you to a celebrity.

I'm not sure what you want to hear about him. He's dark-haired. Slender. Not over-tall. Has a melancholy streak. Rather too quiet—except when he's demanding reading material. Your story is keeping him nicely pacified. I leave my letter-link next to his bed (with all the personal letters hidden, of course—though I can't say I wasn't tempted to let him read that last one).

He's not what I would have expected the author of Less Boring to be like. (I guess I have seen that play. I remember laughing.) But he's young, and this isn't exactly a cheerful setting. Broken bodies, broken minds—blood, bones and suffering, dust and dirt and smoke. Even with the shadow of the war gone, it left plenty of darkness behind.

You're going to think this is crazy, but I've written to ask the university for an extension of my time here. The people here have become my friends and allies. There is so much work to be done. I can't leave them to deal with it alone.

It's only another six months, and after all, what's time to a time traveler? I'm going to miss you, but you have plenty to keep you busy. Before you know it, we'll be back together again.

I hope you understand. Pray for me.

Always your loving sister,

Josephine

IX. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forester

Maj 11, 701 T.E.

Josephine,

Are you crazy? Is the university crazy? The fact that you want to spend more time in that horrible time and place should be proof that time travel has messed with your mind.

I get it. Now that you're hob-nobbing with celebrities, ordinary modern life just can't compare. I should never have told you who Darrin Royston was. He can't be that interesting. He won't even write anything for another ten years. Can he really compare to your charming, adorable sister?

But seriously, Josie, what are you thinking? Time travel is cool and all, and I'm sure you're doing good things, but you belong here. In a safe, civilized century. There are plenty of people in this time period who need you—I'm at the top of the list.

You're going to miss my birthday now, you know that?

Disgruntled,

Rachel

X. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forester

Maj 15, 701 T.E.

Josephine,

Are you mad at me? I'm sorry if I got snarky. I'm upset you're not coming home, but you're a big girl and we both have our own lives and you can make your own decisions. I can respect your choice to stay.

I know that you're busy, but can you spare ten seconds to send me a line so I know I haven't destroyed our relationship forever?

Rachel

XI. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forester

Maj 20, 701 T.E.

Josie,

Are the people of that century so much more important that you can't even send a line to your little sister? I know I'm not one to talk about prompt letter-writing, but under the circumstances, this is worrying. And kind of hurtful.

Rachel

XII. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forester

Maj 20, 701 T.E.

Josie,

I'm sorry.

Please write back.

Rachel

XIII. Darrin Royston to Rachel Forester

Maj 20, 551 T.E.

Miss Rachel Forester:

I am writing with a heavy heart to inform you of the death of your sister, Nurse Josephine Forester. She went missing several days ago, and her body was found yesterday. She seems to have been killed in an accident with a stray shell near the hospital grounds. Millions of such unused artillery shells litter the countryside, and I'm afraid your sister was unfortunate enough to stumble upon one and become a casualty of war even in this time of peace.

No doubt you will receive notification through official channels, but I am aware she often contacted you via this letter-link, and I thought you might prefer to receive the news through a more personal route.

Your sister was a credit to her profession. She was a diligent, cheerful, kind, and invariably patient nurse. I am forever indebted to her for her personal kindnesses that brought light to hellish days.

Know that you and your family have my sympathy and my deepest condolences. You will remain in my prayers.

Yours,

Darrin Royston

XIV. Rachel Forester to Darrin Royston

What do you mean, dead?

She can't be dead. She won't be born for a hundred and fifty years.

Time travel's not supposed to work like that. She was supposed to do her research and come home.

It can't happen like that. I refuse to believe it. God wouldn't do that to us.

I haven't heard anything from her, but that's because you stole her letter-link. That must be it. Give it back, you thief, and think again before you go terrifying me with wild stories.

XV. Rachel Forester to Darrin Royston

Mr. Royston,

Don't read my last response. It wasn't supposed to send. Please ignore it. Give Josephine her letter-link back.

Thank you,

Rachel Forester

XVI. Darrin Royston to Rachel Forester

Maj 21, 551 T.E.

Miss Forester,

I'm afraid I read both your of your letters, and they greatly puzzle me. Is this a fragment of one of your fantastical tales? That would be the most sensible assumption, except that the unopened letters you sent to your sister seem to confirm an impossible truth. Your sister came to us from a different time, you exist far in the future, and I am writing to a woman who has not yet been born.

I apologize for reading words that I was not meant to see, but the confusion they've caused has more than punished me for my curiosity. The implications of what you suggest are dizzying.

You are not writing in Valorian, which suggests that the peace holds, and you seem to write from a far more peaceful time. No wonder your stories held such hope. I can barely imagine a world beyond this battlefield hospital.

If I am reading the story correctly, your sister left a place of safety and peace and came to serve the suffering in a time of war. It makes her actions even more heroic and her death even more of a tragedy.

I don't pretend to understand how this is possible, but you have my gratitude and my sympathy.

Yours,

Darrin Royston

XVII. Rachel Forester to Darrin Royston

Maj 22, 701 T.E.

Darrin,

Yes, my sister is from the future. Yes, she came to help out during your war. And yes, you people killed her.

She could have been an aloof researcher, gathering information about the Western War, but she decided to help because she couldn't stand by while people were suffering. And she died for it.

What does it matter if you know the truth? Josephine always said that history can't be changed. I can't even wish that she hadn't gone on the trip, because apparently, the fact that she died in the past means she always died in the past. She was dead before she was born.

But how is that any different from the rest of us? Where I come from, you're long dead. To people in the future, I'm long dead. There's nothing we can do to change that, even with time travel, so what does anything matter?

If our every action is part of an unchangeable history, we're just cogs in a cosmic machine. It doesn't do any good to cry over it.

Rachel

XVIII. Darrin Royston to Rachel Forester

Maj 23, 551 T.E.

Rachel,

I can't pretend to understand how time travel occurs, and the philosophical questions you pose seem far beyond my ken. But it is clear that you are grieving, and I can try to offer what comfort I can.

I'm no philosopher, but I know that the things we do, whenever we do them, matter. From where I lay in this hospital, your sister's actions were far from meaningless. She did not control her fate, but she had free will within it. Her choices made a world of difference to the men she helped.

We have a God who is outside of time. He incorporates our choices into His divine plan. Even if He, the author, knows the end of our story, our actions are what make the story what it is. We can choose to care or be callous, to create or destroy, and those choices ripple across time, for good and for ill.

This war will have effects far into the future, but there is also goodness that transcends time. God sent your sister to help from far in the future. I pray for you from far in the past. Your sister, outside of time, is now better able than ever to pray for us both.

I can't pretend that your sister's death was good. I can't pretend that this war is good. But if there is goodness beyond the end of the war--as your letters suggest--perhaps one day you will find some good that exists beyond the bounds of grief.

Yours,

Darrin Royston

XIX. Rachel Forester to Darrin Royston

Maj 24, 701 T.E.

Darrin,

I wish I could believe in what you say, but right now, hope seems impossible. Thank you for trying.

Rachel

XX. Darrin Royston to Rachel Forester

Maj 25, 701 T.E.

Rachel,

That did get rather abstract, didn't it? I wish I could express myself in a way that makes the truth felt.

Maybe someday I'll have wisdom enough to do so.

Yours,

Darrin Royston

XXI. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forester

Maj 27, 771 T.E.

Josie,

The university sent me your personal belongings today, your letter-link among them. My last connection to the past—and, it feels like, to you—is gone. But Darrin says you're outside of time now, so maybe writing in here can reach you. I'm pretty sure that goes against science and philosophy and theology and probably lots of -ologies, but those were your kind of thing. I can never understand anything but stories.

I'm afraid I've loused things up. I freaked out and revealed time travel to Darrin Royston. It doesn't seem to have broken anything yet, but I feel terrible. You went into the past to help these people through suffering I can't even imagine. Meanwhile, I'm living in comfort and asked the poor boy to deal with my problems on top of his own. I've been selfish from beginning to end, and it's giving me a lot of guilt.

All the time travel in the world can't change that. All I can do is move forward. But I can't believe I can do that, not without you. Whatever stupid things I did, I knew I could count on you to have my back. To understand. To pull me back from the edge of the cliff or pick me up if I jumped off it. Now it's just me and I feel frozen. I'm cut off from the past and the future's a blank. How am I supposed to go on?

Pray for me, I guess. It's supposed to work across time and outside of time. It's the best we've got now. But it's nothing like getting a letter from you.

Love,

Rachel

XXII. Josephine Forester to Rachel Forester

Maj 11, 551 T.E.

Rachel,

Happy birthday!

Anyway, it'll be your birthday when you read this. I'm sorry I'm not there to celebrate with you, but maybe a good present will make up for it.

I can't send objects through time, but I sent a message to Harriet on the research team, and she's come through. This will arrive on your birthday, even if I can't come with it.

What you hold in your hands is a first edition of Darrin Royston's first collection of stories. Given recent events, it seemed only fitting. Here's proof your letters haven't stunted his career.

You're amazing, Rachel, and you've got a great future ahead of you.

Love,

Josephine

XXIII. Dedication in New Beginnings by Darrin Royston

For Rachel

May hope reach you at the proper time

Octon 12, 561 T.E.

XXIV. Rachel Forester to Harriet Zima

Maj 33, 771 T.E.

Harriet,

Thanks for the help with the birthday present. It means more to me than you can know.

Could you do me one more favor? For Josie's sake?

I have another thank you to send.

Rachel

XXV. Rachel Forester to Darrin Royston

Maj 33, 771 T.E.

Darrin,

I read your book. Actually, I reread it. I've read every one of those stories before in anthologies, in collections, as standalone stories. I had some of them practically memorized. But this was my first time reading the original collection. So it's the first time I read the dedication. And it's the first time I've known they were written for me.

I can't begin to explain what that feels like. Imagine a whole lot of tears—joy and guilt and just sheer overwhelmed—and you'll have a general idea.

The stories are fantastic, of course—they're classics! They're funny, profound, sweet, witty, thoughtful.

But the thing that means the most to me is the writing of them. I know something of what your life was like there at the end of the war—Josie sent me plenty of letters. You had so many problems of your own. You didn't need pampered little me throwing more problems on you. But you cared. You built a life after the end of the world and you sent out a light to brighten mine.

That's all we can do, isn't it? Every moment in time. Care about each other. That's what gets us through when it seems like the world has ended. It transcends time. You told me about it back then, but your book showed it to me. I can't imagine what I could have done to deserve such consideration ten years after our few letters, but I can't thank you enough.

Your future and forever friend,

Rachel Forester

XXVI. Harriet Zima to Rachel Forester

Rachel,

I'm letting one last letter through. Only because this is awesome. But I don't have the budget to justify any more favors.

Harriet

XXVII. Darrin Royston to Rachel Forester

Novrum 23, 561 T.E.

Rachel,

Your stories brought me comfort and hope at a time when I felt that I had none. The least I could do was return the favor.

These years since the war have brought grief and suffering, but also more joy and healing than I ever could have imagined. Time is a great healer--and I needed time to see the truth of that for myself, before I could begin to make others believe in it.

My little book, even now, is gaining attention. It is gratifying to know it will last. I can only pray my other words will last long enough to reach you. If ten years of experience can teach me this much, I am curious to see what I can learn with a little more time.

May we meet again on the bookshelves.

Your friend,

Darrin Royston

P.S. I've visited your sister's grave three times since the war. Knowing I will be her only visitor for more than a hundred years makes it a solemn duty, but it is also an honor to visit one who proved so good a friend. Each time, I ask her prayers for both of us. I know they are answered.

XXVIII. Rachel Forester to Josephine Forester

Maj 12, 702 T.E.

Josie,

I visited your grave today. The war-torn country you described in your letters is a lovely springtime meadow. Grimsby Hall is torn down, but there are plaques where the hospital stood, and the little graveyard stands in a peaceful grove of trees. The world has healed, and, slowly, so am I.

Your grave is marked by a clean white stone that's been kept free of moss and dirt. Darrin's family cared for it well. It only has the date of your death, but its existence proves that there are times in the past where you're alive. Outside of time where you are now, you're even more alive.

One day, we'll meet again, but until then, I've got work to do. I tried to avoid suffering in the past, leaving the painful work to you. But pain finds us no matter where we are. I can't stay focused on my own and ignore everyone else's. There are plenty of people, even in our own time, who need help. I've added some volunteer work to my rampant social schedule, trying to find out exactly where I can do the most good.

My experience with your work makes me a good candidate for the time travel program. I'll admit that I'm considering it. There's plenty of work to be done in the post-war world, and I've got connections there.

Love,

Rachel

#the bookshelf progresses #inklingschallenge #team tolkien #genre: time travel #theme: comfort #theme: pray #story: complete #not terribly happy with it but it's done

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morbethgames · 3 months ago

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Love In Stasis - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Madeline gave three solid knocks on the door of the third floor dorm room. She had taken Melody out shopping a couple of hours ago, and both of them got new outfits for their girls night out. But it wouldn’t do to have Mel fall asleep on the dance floor, so she let her best friend spend a few hours at her dorm room to get some shut eye in her room.

Maddie knocked a couple more times on the door, and afterwards, heard Luz’s voice come through. “Yeah! Just a sec!”

When the door finally opened, Luz was standing on the other side of it. “Hey, I-” Madeline began, but once Luz was in full view, she stopped. All the toned woman had on was a white tank top and a pair of women’s boxers. Maddie’s eyes wandered to Luz’s arm that was propped up against the wall, then back to her face, which she had just slicked her hair back from since it was soaked.

“Sorry about the wait.” Luz said, “You caught me just as I was getting out of the shower.” She looked behind her, pointing her thumb over her shoulder, then looked back towards Madeline. “Mel isn’t here.”

Maddie took a second to come back to earth, then nodded, “Yeah, I know. I came here to talk to you.”

Luz broke eye contact, releasing a large breath and stepping to the side while motioning with her arm for Madeline to come inside. “I’m assuming this is about last night?”

Madeline soon accepted the invitation, stepping in. “Yeah- Well, kinda.”

Luz furrowed her brow, confused, and let the door shut behind her friend. “Kinda?” Then leaned back against the wall.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about your guys’ living arrangements.” She crossed her arms and hardened her expression. Distracted only a bit by the steam just off in the far end of the hallway. She wasn’t kidding; she did just get out of the shower. “You guys can’t live together anymore.”

Upon hearing what this was really about, Luz bowed her head and put her hands behind her back. “It’s eating her up inside.” Maddie continued, “and even if you wait until she’s out to invite your hookups over, it doesn’t stop it from keeping some wounds open.”

“I know.” Luz replied with an even tone.

Madeline looked genuinely surprised at first, uncrossing her arms. “You-” She waited for a beat, the small sense of shock making her interrupt herself. “You know?” Then, that surprise turned into irritation. “Then why haven’t you done anything about it?”

“I have.”

Maddie stared perturbedly, waiting for the taller woman to clarify her statement. Luz looked back up at her and shrugged in preparation of saying something extremely difficult. Something she didn’t really want to happen, but was going to anyway. “I’m gonna be crashing with Darrel for a couple months, or until Mel is,” She pondered how to put it, “better, I guess? I dunno.”

Luz brought her hand up, rubbing the top of her head.

Maddie’s eyes, for a split second, blinked towards the Hispanic woman’s adonis muscles that were partially revealed in the process, then refocused to her face again. “I wouldn’t know how to explain it. But I guess it’s just until she can get over me. She smiled sheepishly and let out a single, guilty chuckle. “I know I don’t exactly make that easy.”

Madeline could tell, as well. She could tell that Luz was genuinely trying to do the right thing, and that maybe she was usually trying to do the right thing and it just fell flat sometimes. Maybe Melody was right. Perhaps she didn’t always give the woman a fair shake.

“Oh, well,” Maddie began, not really knowing how to completely clear the air through the pent up awkwardness that had built over the last year from her and her best friend’s breakup. “Thanks, Luz. Really.” Maddie said, not really knowing how to completely clear the air through the pent up awkwardness that had built over the last year from her and her best friend’s breakup.

Luz nodded subtly. “Yeah, no problem.” Then she looked down again. Silent. As if waiting for Madeline to begin making her exit already.

Which the animal science major did. She began heading for the door, but in the process, had to actually walk past the half-naked woman to do so. When she did, she stopped and faced her. “Hey Luz.” She paused for a second, “You’re, um,” It felt strange being so real with the flirtatious woman. “You’re a good person.”

Luz lifted her head, her lips barely parted and her eyes looking as if they were searching for meaning, focusing on Madeline’s lips as Maddie continued to speak. “And I know I haven’t been as good of a friend as I could’ve been through yours and Mel’s breakup.” Luz’s eyes moved up to Maddie’s. “And I’m sorry about that.”

There was a beat that went by, and then a genuine, appreciative smile appeared on Luz’s lips. “I get it.” She sighed, stood up straight, then shrugged again. “You went up to bat for your best friend. I respect that, Mads.” Her eyes darted down, then up again. “It’s one of the things I like about you. But I, uh, appreciate it.” She spoke softly, “I do.”

For a moment, Luz had to look away. She wasn’t all too good with showing real, honest emotions. Not with Madeline, at least. And so, because of that, a more flirtatious demeanor took hold. As a sort of wall she could put up to hide herself. “But y’know, I’m no saint in all this either. So if you ever need me to say sorry, I’ve heard I’m very good with my mouth.”

Madeline scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks, but no thanks.” She thought for a moment, then leaned in a bit. “But if you really wanna say sorry, you can slip me Darrel’s number. Mel and I are going out tonight and he seems like he’d be more my speed, if you know what I mean.”

Luz’s eyes faltered, for only a split second. For a single moment while she huffed out a breath. But it was just not-so-subtle enough to be noticeable. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”

Maddie smiled, leaning forward a little more to look up at Luz. “What was that?”

Luz released a tense snicker, “What was what?”

“That.” Madeline said again, leaning in a bit closer. “Oh my god. Luz Marcellus, are you-” she let out an amused exhale, “Are you jealous?” Her poking and prodding was, of course, meant in a playful manner.

The toned woman raised her eyebrows. “Me? Jealous?” She scoffed. “No.”

“I think you are.”

“Mads, watch yourself.” Luz playfully warned, taking a step closer.

“Luz, I’ve never seen that look on you before.” Maddie took a single step back, still smirking. “Oh, don’t worry though, I won’t be part of whatever body count contest you guys are having. I’ll make it abundantly clear to him going into it that things are to stay between the-”

Before Madeline knew what was happening, she was between Luz and the wall, with the butch woman’s forearm placed above her head. The wet strands of hair hung down in front of her face, barely letting her brown eyes show through and burrow their way into Maddie’s own. The shorter woman’s gaze went wide and she tried to look anywhere that wasn’t up or forward.

But that wasn’t exactly working.

Was that Luz she was smelling? What kind of cologne was that? She wore cologne? It was nice. That, mixed with the smell of the shampoo, was almost intoxicating in a way.

Luz flipped her hair to the side, giving that trademark charming smile with that stupid way she dragged her teeth along her bottom lip for half a second. It all made Madeline’s heart speed up a beat or two. But why? She didn’t like women like that. Maybe she didn’t view Luz as a woman?

Gee, that’s a shitty rationalization to jump to. Madeline thought the words, keeping them locked in her head.

“There’s a lot of sides of me you haven’t seen yet, Mads. But we can change that.” Her voice was deeper than usual, Maddie could swear to it. “Y’know, if you ever become interested.” Madeline felt humiliated that this was actually getting to her. She knew logically that this was all just to get back at her for poking fun at Luz in the first place. So, yeah, kinda should’ve seen something like this coming.

But Madeline thought it was like how Luz and Darrel joke with each other. How Darrel will say something to her that’s provocative, and she’ll tell him to eat a dick, but in a ‘bros being bros’ kinda way.

She put a hand on the top of Luz’s chest to gently push against her, adding a trilled laugh to her first word. “Yeah, okay. That would require me to find you attractive, cowgirl.”

But then, Luz’s expression just dropped. Like it would

In immediate response, so did Maddie’s.

“Wow, um,” Luz backed away to put space between them, releasing a single, hurt breath. “Okay…”

Madeline just froze for a good couple of seconds.

What did she say? It was the truth. She wasn’t attracted to Luz, because she wasn’t attracted to women, and Luz knew that. Those two things were obviously going to line up. Maybe she thought Maddie was calling her unattractive, in a general sense? Anyone with eyes could see that wasn’t true, though. Not only that, Luz has always been super proud of her body. So why was right now such a blow for her and not something she could just laugh off?

Maddie reached her hand out. “Luz, I didn’t-”

“No it’s- it’s cool.” Luz took another step back and kept looking to the side, clearing her throat and pulling her shirt down to cover her torso just a bit better. “I get it.” She nodded once, “I do.”

“Okay…” Madeline said, just kind of leaving it at that. She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know what was going on. “Did you, um,” She narrowed her gaze a bit, “ Did you wanna-” Then, she pointed her thumb towards the door, “I mean, tonight, with-”

“No, I can’t.” Luz cut her off. “I have work. Patrolling.”

“Right…”

Another awkward pause.

Maddie took a couple steps back towards the door, the apologetic sensation never leaving her expression. “Well, I’m gonna head out. Gotta make sure Mel wakes up in time for our girls' night.”

Luckily, it seemed like Luz had started to compose herself. She took a deep breath and returned to more of a neutral demeanor. “Yeah, well, you guys have fun. Take a shot or two for me.”

Madeline seemed relieved when her friend at least started acting normal again. She giggled, “Luz, we always take shots for you. You don’t drink.”

Luz shot her a friendly wink, “I know. Have fun tonight.”

“Thanks, we will!” With those final words, Madeline opened the door behind her and left the dorm room. All the way to the elevator, she couldn’t help but think about how weird that entire interaction ended up being. Had things changed that much with Luz in the past year? What hell even happened back there?

Maddie tried shaking it off as she got onto the elevator.

One thing was for sure; she would certainly be drinking enough to try and forget whatever the fuck that was.

10pm - Shivers Bar & Club Singles Night

A glass hit the bar underneath, and Madeline let out a high pitched, ‘Woooo!’ as the first shot of alcohol cleared her esophagus. She was wearing a red silken dress with an open back that had strings that tie around the back of her neck. It flowed down to just above her knees.

Melody laughed and put a hand on her shoulder. “Maddie! Easy, we just got here!”

She turned to Melody and put an arm around her shoulder. “Hey! ‘Easy’ is for people who get to do this more than once every couple of months!” She took the second shot from the bar and held it out to the crowd as she turned both of them to face it. “We came out here to have a good time, and dammit, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do. So do me a favor and down this shit!”

Madeline held the shot to Melody’s lips and tilted it back, to which Melody took the hint and opened her mouth, tilting her head back to let the drink flow down her throat. Maddie let out yet another cheer and put the now empty shot glass on the bar next to the other one.

Mel put the back of her wrist up to her lips, holding in a laugh at her over-ecstatic best friend. “Now, let’s get you and the sweet, sweet ass out on the dance floor, girl!” They both laughed and Maddie grabbed Melody’s wrist, holding it in the air and swaying her hips while she danced out onto the floor to begin their night.

11:30pm - Shivers Bar & Club Singles Night…

Madeline leaned on the bar, downing her third shot of the night, and she was starting to feel it coming on. She let out a breath, and a laugh afterwards, exhausted but having the time of her life.

“Hey, you here alone?!”

She heard a deep voice yell out over the music, and before even looking at the guy, smiled and retorted. “It’s singles night! What do you think?!” It was more of a playful tone than a snarky one. As she saw the guy for the first time, he looked pretty damn cute. Not the most built, but certainly not scrawny.

“To actually answer your question,” she continued, “I came here with my friend. She’s, um,” Madeline looked around. Where was Mel? It was difficult to see over and past the crowd, but as a few more people cleared the way at the end of the song, she saw her. And a huge grin came across her face.

Melody was on the other end of the bar, pressed against it, making out with a woman a few inches taller than her with raven black, shoulder length hair. “She’s busy.” Maddie said, turning back to the guy.

He looked down at her and smiled, leaning on the bar. “You and your friend come to singles nights together often?”

“Oh, it’s not what you think.” The music began to blare again as the next song started. It was difficult to convey the joking tone she wanted while talking over it, but she did her best. “She’s my manager!”

“Oh yeah?!” The guy played along.

Madeline nodded, “For sure! There’s some really raunchy stuff of me online! Girl’s gotta make a living, right?!”

The guys face formed an over exaggerated expression of understanding. “Oh yeah, for sure, for sure!” Then broke out into a grin again.

Maddie looked him up and down. Yeah, he passed the vibe check.

But before it could continue, she heard a familiar voice next to her. “Hey, Maddie!”

She looked over to see Melody standing there, holding hands with the woman she was just making out with. “Hey, Mel!” There was most certainly a teasing lilt to the word that made her best friend roll her eyes and blush, smiling like she was caught with her hand caught where it wasn’t supposed to be, and where it most likely was just a couple minutes ago.

“I’m gonna head back! I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure! Go on girl! Have fun!” Once again, a lilting, teasing cadance took over the last word, and Madeline watched as her friend walked out with her new date.

She looked back to the guy she was talking with, “So, where were we?”

12:30am - Shivers Bar & Club Singles Night…

Body’s were rubbing against each other. The music was pounding. More drinks were being ordered. More drinks were being consumed. At this point, it was safe to say that Madeline was drunk. Five shots in for a person that doesn’t regularly go out drinking was more than enough.

She leaned back against the bar, making out with the guy she was dancing with. Turns out his name was Garrett, which she classily found out a few seconds before she started kissing him. They smiled into the kiss and he reached down, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her closer to him. “You feel fucking amazing, Maddie.”

“Mmm… Same do… you…” Well, it seemed like she was more drunk than she thought. But she’s been drunk before and that felt different than this.

Her hand reached up to hold her forehead, “Woah-” And when she looked back at Garrett, everything seemed like it was spinning. His head wouldn’t stay in one place. Afterimages filled her vision when things passed her view. She was starting to see double.

She heard Garrett’s voice, as if it was far off in the distance. Distorted. Like it was slowed down, but going faster somehow. “Maddie? You good?”

“No, I…” She reached into her pocket, her hand shakily pulling out her phone. “T-trouble… Gotta c-call… Some-” Her fingers tried their best to work on the digital keypad.

5… 8… 9…

But it was no use. Before she could do anything else, she dropped her phone and stumbled into the counter. The device clattered to the ground and Garrett reached out to grab her. “Woah, Maddie!” He steadied her on her feet as her head fell motionless backwards.

Barely conscious, she heard another voice. A familiar voice.

“Yo, what’s going on? Maddie? Maddie, you good?” Her head was held forward by someone different. It was Darrel. Darrel was here.

He looked at Garrett while keeping her head upright. “What the fuck happened?!”

“I don’t know, man! I think she was drugged or something.” Garrett seemed worried. Both for Maddie’s safety, and because he didn’t want anyone thinking he did it.

“Shit!”

“We’ve been on the dancefloor for like, the past hour. Only coming back here and there to grab a quick drink- I swear, she’s been fine up until this point!”

Darrel looked around on the bar for a second. He picked up a glass with his free hand and put it forcefully back down on the counter. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Yo! Bartender! No fucking drink covers on this shit; are you for real right now?! It’s a fuckin’ college town dipshit!” He pointed to the ground, “Hey yo, get her phone. Put it in her purse.”

“Darrel…” Madeline slurred the name, pouting, and a couple of silent cries came from her throat.

“I gotchu, babygirl, don’t worry. I gotchu.” He picked Maddie up and turned to Garrett. “Yo, Garrett! Call the cops, tell’em someone’s been drugged at Shivers. Give’em my address and-” He thought about it for a second, looked down at her, then shook his head. “Actually, nah, fuck that. Way too sus. I’m takin’ her to her room! Tell’em she’ll be in the junior and senior dorm!”

“Yeah, for sure man, I’m on it.” Garrett took out his phone and immediately started calling the police.

And that was the last thing Madeline remembered…

3:07am - Grayson Library Parking Lot

Luz sat in her patrol car with it turned on so that the heat was going. When it’s in the forties outside, saving on gas money during your break suddenly becomes a bit less important than staying warm. To help with that, she also had a coffee she picked up at a twenty-four hour diner down the street, too.

Her phone dinged, and as she took another sip and looked down at it, she smirked and shook her head. The message appeared at the top of her screen, from one of her hookups this past year on campus, asking if she was DTF tonight. She went to move her thumb to click on the message, but she just hovered over it.

She was conflicted. Ever since that talk with Maddie earlier, she couldn’t even let her mind wander anywhere else. It was like there was a blockade there, and it was something she couldn’t move past for some reason. Both the jealousy, and the stinging remark that Maddie didn’t find her attractive. For some reason, hearing that out loud from her friend, just stung. It was a constant parasite eating away at her brain.

Luz shook her head and let the message on her phone stay unread. She clicked the device's screen off and looked back up through the windshield. “What’s wrong with me?”

But she narrowed her gaze, squinting to try and see something in the distance. “The hell?” Out in the middle of the green just outside the library, she could barely see the figure of someone. From this distance, in the dark, it just looked like a shadow. It seemed like they were kneeling on the ground, maybe?

What were they doing out here?

Luz got out of her car and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed through the night air like the clap of thunder. Upon hearing it, the figure quickly got up and immediately began running off across the green, towards the main strip.

“Hey!” Luz yelled out, trying to make out anything she could about the figure. Though it was harder to tell anything about it, she could, at the very least, see that they were wearing a baseball cap and were about, five-foot-four from the looks of it. Maybe five-foot-seven or five-foot-eight?

She started jogging towards the figure, though it was obvious with their headstart that she wasn’t going to catch them. When the security officer got ten or so yards away from where they were originally kneeling down, she watched them round the corner and leave her line of sight.

Luz shakes her head, then looks down a bit and sees another figure. Her eyes squint, and she instinctively reaches for her walkie. “This is campus security badge two-five-six out on the green outside of Grayson Library. I got a possible two-forty, requesting local law enforcement.”

The radio immediately came back with a voice. “Heard, two-five-six. Contacting law enforcement and backup will be there shortly.”

She began pulling out her flashlight. “Yo, you alright?” When she clicked it on and the circular light came to life, it was pointed down at the ground at her feet. Instinctively, Luz looked down.

She squinted, trying to make out what the wind had just blown against her pants.

It was hair. Auburn hair.

Her breath sped up and she slowly pointed her flashlight up and along the ground. Her voice was almost caught in her throat, and she began walking fast towards the unmoving figure. “Hey, I said ‘are you alright’!”

As Luz got closer, her worst fears became a reality.

With chunks of hair cut off, and an excess amount of blood from the multiple stab wounds to her chest…

It was Melody.

“Oh my god-!” Luz rushed over, pulling her walkie up to her mouth, the tears already starting to well up in a panic. “I need EMT’s! EMT’s- SEND EMT’s!” Her voice broke as she shouted into the device, then threw it on the ground.

She practically slid down next to her as she collapsed to her knees, reaching out and turning Melody’s face towards her to look into her eyes. “Mel! Mel, look at me!”

She did; but there was nothing there. Her eyes were as cold as her skin.

Luz put her hands on the wounds, pressing down hard to try and stop the bleeding. “Don’t do this! C’mon, don’t do this!” She pressed down again, looking at the blood seeping through her fingers and overtop her hands, then back to Melody’s face. Tears began to run down her cheeks. “Fuck- Mel, c’mon!”

As she cried, she leaned down to put her face just inches away from her friend’s as she whispered to her. The vacant stare that gazed back surely burned into her mind forever. “C’mon, what do you want, huh? W-what do you want me to do? Y-you want me to say that I love you? I- I do, okay? I love you. I love you so fucking much, Mel, just please don’t fucking do this to me- Please, God don’t do this…”

Her words were strained, said in the middle of sobs as her hands came up to caress Melody’s face. The blood smeared on her extremely pale, lifeless skin as Luz’s thumb gently stroked her cheek.

Luz looked out all around her and screamed as loud as she could. “HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”

She looked back to the body of what was once her friend. “God, no,” Luz began to cry uncontrollably. “No, no, please no…” She reached down and cradled Melody in her arms, bringing her up to hold her close. To embrace her one last time. “Please don’t go…” The blood began to soak into her uniform, but Luz didn’t care. She rocked back and forth, holding the corpse of one of the only people on this earth she could ever truly say she had loved.

The only sounds left in the dead of night were the whining of incoming sirens, and the sobs of a broken woman…

(If you'd like to continue reading the story, please consider becoming a Patron! It's only $5 to read all ten chapters that have been released so far, which is over 40k, and there's a chapter released at least every other week, if not every week. Thank you for your interest and I hope you've enjoyed the story so far! -> Patreon <- )

#romance #wlw #mystery #serialized novel #serialized fiction #serial fiction #writers of tumblr #writing #books and reading #reading #murder mystery #love in stasis #original story #original character

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mellowyellow236 · 2 months ago

Text

Royally Screwed

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (In progress)

(Yuu will be named Yuri, as she's my Yuusona. While there will be no detailed description of her body, Yuri is intersex and may be referred to as such by the cast, although she refers to herself as a woman. All characters will be aged up by one year! The exceptions are all adult characters without specified ages, immortals, and Leona. There will be no sex scenes, but there will be some jokes and also the implication of the expectation with the consorts.)

People are annoying. Especially when they’re convinced they know what’s good for you. I mean, I’m the emperor! You know, cool, powerful, not supposed to have a babysitter over your shoulder explaining who’s planning on entering your life because the bird decided it would be better to go behind your back and give you consorts than just saying they thought you were going to die alone and guilt trip you as a normal guardian would. But here I am, trying not to use my ‘plotting face’ as Crewel calls it, listening to him blabber on and on and on…

Bla bla bla, “The prince of the Coral Sea and the son of a countess-” Ramble, ramble, “The second prince from the Sunset Savanna and a descendant of the Queen of Hearts still in the nobility-” Why does politics have to be so boring? “Three noble sons from the Shaftlands to compensate for their lack of princes- You’re not even listening to me. I don’t know why I bother…”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

“If only you were…” He sighed, “If you declare war,” Fun idea, “Please do it after all the consorts arrive. That way, we’ve got nobility from every country nearby and far to use as immunity from certain alliances.”

“Like the Shaftlands and Queendom of Roses? They’re allied, right?”

“Yes-”

“See, I do pay plenty of attention when it’s important! I just don’t really care what the rumors around my future boytoys are if I’m going to meet them all soon anyway. I mean, it’s been… Five days since we got our Crowley news? At least five days, anyway.” It’s been six days, but seeing Crewel so flabbergasted at how I passed any exam well enough that the general populace didn’t overthrow me the moment I started ruling is the best part of my day. I mean, I don’t act like this around people, it’s no surprise I’m well-liked.

Well, I’m fairly tolerated because Crewel’s really efficient, and Vargas tends to shut down any criticism before it starts. Perks of having the head of the royal guards built like a tank, I suppose.

“It’s-”

“Don’t care, anyway, the first batch is set to arrive today.”

“Yes, the first two consorts. Prince Riddle Rosehearts of the Queendom of Roses and Prince Leona Kingscholar of the Sunset Savannah.”

“Wasn’t it Lord Rosehearts, the son of the doctor and duchess, last I checked?” I sat up once he brought up the boys. “And then that Leona guy isn’t really a prince anymore.” Oo, theatrics time! Time to make my godfather hate me! I stood up, putting a hand to my chest. Grim grunted, and I sniffled. Crewel looks like he wants to kill a man. Perfect. “Do I really have not a single kingdom willing to give me a prince over a boy?”

“Oh shut up, you’re at the age where all the leading princes are already engaged. Or, children. I’m sure no one wants to marry a five-year-old because I will make the offer if you’re so heartbroken over the lack of pampering.” He hissed.

“Okay, I can deal with not real princes.” I plopped back down onto the armrest of my throne. “Just tell me if they want me to, like, visit them or if they’re pissy about this whole arrangement.”

“Not as much as you, Pup. And you should visit them all, but only once everyone is here. I have a list for you of the order you should use.” When I raised an eyebrow, he continued. “It’s in terms of political power. You’ll start with Malleus Draconia-” The man who’s got horns so big they’re like elephant ears. Hornton, some might say. With such good fae senses, one might even say he could hear a Who. “-And you will end with the aforementioned Rosehearts boy.” Well, screw that. He shows up first and gets picked last? I might be a harlot whose only value lies in her kettle drums, but at the very least, I’m fair.

Also, a gremlin according to everyone who’s known me since I was a child. But the people don’t need to know that.

“Plotting face, Pup. What are you planning?”

“Wonderful things.” He only sighed in response.

“Don’t start a war, piss off anyone, or have a child before you’ve chosen who you want to lead your harem.” Okay, first and last are doable. Two out of three isn’t a bad score.

“Yep, I can do that. So, the second guy that’s coming today? Mr. Used-To-Be-A-Prince. You want me to see him when?”

“You’re not going to listen to me regardless.”

“Good point. What time?”

“The first will be here at quote ‘tea time’.”

“Our tea time or the Queendom of Roses’ tea time?”

“Queendom of Roses, most likely.”

“Okay, five hours to prepare. Six o'clock, I can do that.” I get up, stretching my arms. “Call in Skully. I want to wear something nice.”

“Don’t… Hit on them. In public.” Ouch, there goes plan C. How horrible, honestly. No one would believe me anyway, so there's no point in denying it. I ring the bell for Skully again, looking at Crewel as I do.

“You should leave, he’s bringing me dress options.”

“You should get a woman for a valet if you’re so worried about that. If not, I’m staying.” He groaned, and I’m sure I rolled my eyes to cause it. “You will learn about the people you will be staying with, and that is final, young lady!”

“Young emperor, you mean…”

“Do you think I care?”

“No…”

“Good. Now shut up and put those years of acting skills to the test, because I’ll be in hell before you tell foreign nobility to go kill themself again.” I was 13! How come Crewel has to remember everything?!

A few hours later, give or take my sanity, and I’m dressed up with a mildly endearing lunatic on one side raving about the beauty of a black dress instead of whatever shade of blue, if one could call this grayish color that, I’m wearing, while my other has a man in a suit with far too many pieces for the weather telling him that he’s stupid because red is a better color if we weren’t meeting some redhead and black would clash with the yellow of the second prince slated to come for today.

Once I took my spot on my throne, I took a deep breath. Here we go… The booming voice of Vargas, as the man in question made his way into the entryway. Flanked by two guards and two attendants, one of each on either side, came the surprisingly short man with strawberry-flavored hair. My first suitor…

“Please welcome, His Highness, Prince Riddle Rosehearts of the Queendom of Roses!” I already knew that, but cool. Introductions, are they really needed? Just shove him into the palace and I’ll hand over paperwork whenever I please. But a smile, I need to smile at him. Just smile, wave, and remember not to punch Crowley for looking so smug. He’s bowing, which means to introduce yourself… I hate having a mini Crewel in my head.

“Welcome,” As expected, he looks uptight. His head is held a bit too high, and his back is a bit too straight. Someone born with just enough power to be a figurehead, not enough to have any to use for yourself… A tyrant in the making if I let him bloom, I’ll bet. But then again, he could be greedy enough to take that power at his first chance, with or without my permission. “I am the monarch of this fine empire. Raise your head, for we welcome you into our palace. There should already be servants escorting your bags into your estate.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Nailed the line. He bows and looks just as formal as always. Anyway, onto his entourage. The first redhead is trying to look subtle while he’s taking photos, the second is trying to restrain a yawn, the bluenette guard looks to be barely restraining punching the second ginger, and the man with green hair is ignoring them. I can see Riddle’s eye twitch ever so slightly… How cute. I’m going to push his buttons to hell and back.

“Tell me, dear,” Oh my seven, that made the twitching worse, and he’s bright red, “What are the names of your companions?”

“My valet is Trey Clover. My servant is Cater Diamond. My two knights are Ace Trappolla and Duece Spade.” Pretty good names, if you look past the theme. What, did he rank them based on how likely he was to hit them? I’m going to love him, I can just tell. I’ve got a little rosy tyrant over here, I can bully him a little bit. “Is there any reason you wish to know, Your Highness? Have they broken any kind of rule?”

“Oh heavens, no. I simply like to know the names of those I assume I’ll be interacting with often.” I wave a hand lightly, the court equivalent of dramatic gasps and shoving a topic out of the room. I guess I was right, with the talk of rules he really must be a stick in the mud. “Although, I must ask if your knights would like to train with my own. We have the training ground for the imperial knights, as well as the nearby knight academy’s fields if you would prefer it.” I respond eloquently. He bows again,

“Thank you, Your Highness. I shall take you up on that offer.”

“Yuri is fine, dear.” Dear Seven, this boy is entertaining. I shoot Crewel a look, he didn’t tell me about all of the fun that would come from more than just watching, and he gives me one back that makes it seem like he’s seconds away from screaming swears in my general direction. Perfect! The world is as it should be!

“Very well, Empress Yuri.” A subtle admission, I see. The Queen’s the one in power in the Queendom, obviously, but that isn’t the case here. He’s changed his clothes to match my land, and it’s obvious that he can read the various tapestries around the throne room’s inscription. He should know that an empress is a title reserved for the weaker monarch, and it’s no secret that I’m not a biological woman. Either this is a slip of the tongue in common, or this is an attempt to state that he has his own views of my rule. But he used empress, not queen. He didn’t go back to old habits, he must have referred it to me in his head before ever meeting me. But that begs the question, does he believe I fit the title of power that he used in his home, or does he believe he should be the one on the throne?

“Just Yuri. I hope you are aware it’s in no way improper. I will allow all of my consorts to use my name.” He raises his head, “But you may address me with whichever name you have used today or as my title of emperor.” If he believes that I’m doing anything but asserting my power, then he’ll be a fool. But from the way his eyes crackle and his face flushes a red that I believe is anger, he is nothing but driven to succeed here.

“Very well, Empress Yuri.” He meets my eyes, and I’m sure my smile is more of a smirk.

“Of course. You are dismissed.” What a wonderful first addition. When he turns to exit, there’s nothing I’m more sure of. The greenette, Trey, seems mildly concerned, while Cater looks nothing but distracted by the appearance of my palace. The two knights are exchanging looks, one much more apprehensive than the other, judging from the crease in his brow and the redhead’s wide and crooked smile. I sure hope to see them, maybe tomorrow morning. I could join Vargas for training, he somehow always manages to make physical activity more fun.

Oh well, the next guy should be coming in any minute now. At the latest, nine at night. I’m going to be busy tonight…

“What do you mean, he’s not coming?!” I cried, looking at the official elected to talk to me. It was Trein, who had Mozus in his arms looking more disappointed than I was pissed.

“He’s decided that he’d rather go to bed in his palace than greet you. He invites you to do so in the morning.” I raise an eyebrow. Trein sighed, “His valet and head servant invite you to come visit him in the morning.”

I will not stand for this! Really, not coming to see me? I’m emperor and empress AND the single most important person who could change his entire life with a wave of my hand.

“I’m going to go see him.” I got up, Grim following behind me, roaring with mild annoyance. He soon walked ahead of me, the only person who ever did so now that I was an adult, looking behind at me as if to ask if this man was worth it. Yes, Grim, he is because I said so. Also, how am I supposed to have fun watching my consorts destroy each other if I don’t know them? That’s half the fun!

I’m strutting through the hallways to my little lionman’s estate. One knock on the front doors of his palace brings out a knight. He has white hair, wolf ears, and a tail. Judging by how it’s wagging despite the serious look on his face, he’s a big dopey puppy at heart. But now is not the time for my favoritism towards anything fluffy! Now is the time for entering but not breaking! But I will break in if I have to!

“Hello there. I am emperor Yuri Akatsuki. I am here to see my consort.” Don’t ramble, just look into his eyes, and glare! Okay, he’s bowed, that’s a good sign. But he’s still blocking my way in.

“I apologize, Your Majesty, but I must insist you wait until the morning. The Prince Consort Leona is weary from the journey to the empire.”

“The Sunset Savanna is a far journey away, but it is equal distance from the Queendom of Roses. Am I to believe the former second prince from a country known for its strength is more tired from travel than the son of a branch family?” I ask, my tone conveying a sense of disapproval. My eyes narrow, the ashen blue gazing into his golden brown ones. If I need to play into our statuses to get what I want, I will.

He moves aside, and I saunter in.

Oh thank the seven, I thought I’d have to be there for longer. I am weak, I say, weak! I just want to have a good time watching his prince burn, why won’t the world let me?!

“Prince Consort Leona,” I state, walking in and standing in the doorway. There’s a man not facing me, with seemingly tan skin and dark brown hair. He grumbles and the other man, likely his valet, laughs from where he stands beside him with a plate of meat. Oh, I’m so hungry… I wish I had steak to chow down on, and no dress to be ruined by it. “I heard that you were sleeping. Interesting to know that that assessment was false.”

“I’m tired. I would like to sleep, and I would be if not for my servants. And now, if not for you.” He groans, taking a bite from the hyena man. About the age of the other consort, that man is very thin and his hair looks as though it was trimmed personally. Lion Boy has a record of taking pity on those living in the slums, and it seems that’s accurate. Still, he should have at least given the man a proper hairdresser and more meals. At least don’t push away good food in front of him.

“Very well. Shall I take this as your greeting, then?” I hum lightly, “Although I will say, not giving me his name and saying something that should catch my attention more to deflect from the blame you placed on a servant…” Checkmate. Only I get to be a manipulative jerk in my house. He doesn’t look that surprised, but he does tense slightly. Good. “So, what is his name?”

“Ruggie. Why do you care?”

“Why do you care to protect him?” He sits up, his torso turning to look at me as his face continues to hang. An air of sloth is around him as he huffs and growls.

“Answering a question with a question.”

“Well aware. Good to know you’re grasp of our language.” I smile at him. He looks ready to murder me. Perfect! Drama already! Ruggie’s laughing. I wish I could join him, but ‘prissy princess’ doesn’t seem to be what’ll set him off. I mean, ‘someone able to match him in intellect’ is working out fine for me.

He doesn’t give me a response, though, so I think I’ve reached the limit of my fun today. I turn around, as Grim shakes his mane and grunts. Trein moves to be behind me once more, as I wave a noncommittal hand in Lion Boy’s general direction.

“It’s rude to let food go to waste right next to someone who didn’t have enough at one point. At least give it to him if you don’t plan on eating.” An important lesson, spoken as condescendingly as I one can sound. I’m a master at controlling the tone of my voice, kid, move aside.

Based on the aggravated growl before I hear someone hit a wall, I’ve succeeded in my goals. Woo-hoo! Cake to celebrate! The Pastry Policy can’t stop me tonight!

There’s a spring in my step as I return to the palace. Well, my palace, more accurately. This is just a big palace with a million smaller, still ginormous, palaces inside. But I’m going to the palace I sleep in. Seven, it’s annoying to say ‘palace’ so many times in a row. Like a bad tongue twister.

Well, it’s true, anyway. Sleepy time now. I pop onto my bed, being embraced by layers upon layers of fine red silk and gold trimming. Most of them were brought from a merchant from the Scalding Sands, one that might be coming in the coming days. Well, I know a rich boy from the Scalding Sands is coming soon, I just don’t know if it's that rich boy. Crewel knows better than I do, but I don’t care enough to ask. So long as I’m entertained and comfy, I’m happy.

I sigh as I feel a very large, very furry body plop on top of me.

“Griiiiiiim…” I whine. He yawns in response. “Get offffff…” He does not. I pout and bury my face into the blankets. I rub his paw, big toe beans and all, and watch him lick my arm. Big kitty, big kitty…

“Ou next prince is coming from… the Coral Sea? I think. A prince- An actual prince, for some reason. Almost no ruler is dumb enough to send their current royal family members, even if he’s the youngest- And the son of a countess.” I poke the pad of his paw, “Weird. A noble with a status too low to normally be considered for a political marriage. Maybe Princey was their way of making up for it? But at that point, send me one of the sons of that one duke. He’s got twins, doesn’t he? They can afford to send one away, especially since all of the nobles there are relatively young. I had to sign their 5th-anniversary card when I first became crown princess.” I hum, “Maybe because they’re not royal blood? But I remember hearing that one princess, like, three generations ago or something chose to marry a commoner. Lost her title and stuff. Ended up getting the title of countess or baroness or something due to some blackmail against her brother or his kids. Her kids might have kept the title… And at this point, I’d think those nobles would be the most likely to have their blood.” I let out a breath, “Assuming that it holds true to that old storybook. I used to read it to you when you were a little, itty-bitty kitty. Mom used to make me interested in politics using it, too. You know the one, Grimmy?” He wacks my leg with his tail. “Duled noted. You biiiiigggg baaaaabbbbyyyy…”

I place a kiss on his arm. Leg? He walks with them… Honestly, though, who cares? I can ramble about books and suitors to my cat in the morning. Sleep time! Rest time! Don’t face the world because it’s got nothing worth giving me except fleeting moments of happiness time!

Honestly, that’s a weird tone that I’m using for that sentence, even in my thoughts. And that’s an even odder thought to have right before I conk out.

~~~

(I love adding double meanings to sentences that no one else will care about… This was really fun to write! Yuri’s main thing she’s good at is reading people and knowing what they need to feel a certain way. In other words, manipulation. In every other thing I’ve written for her as an adult/teen, it’s to make other people feel loved so that way they’ll love her, or at least not critique her. In this AU, she’s on top of the world and her empire so her only goal is to cause as much entertainment as she can without ruining her reputation. Writing that with Leona is especially interesting… They match each other's freak in some ways. Although, it can be pretty hard to do since establishing that they understand each other while stating Yuri’s thoughts on the matter leads to the basic literary advice of “show, don’t tell” being difficult to follow. It’ll get better once we’re done with exposition or Yuri falls for the bait, I promise.)

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #yuusona #trey clover #cater diamond #ace trappola #duece spade #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #rielle #rielle x reader

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knine-nights · 8 months ago

Text

Genloss Theory 12

Long one again but I’ve got pics this time!

Why was there a weapons store in the Showfall mall in Episode 3? What even was it?

There was a store that Charlie and Ranboo took temporary shelter in during Episode 3 that was filled with odd items. It was trashed, much of it was empty, but it was well lit which is more than you can say for most of the mall.

Inside the store, some items they find include an axe, a knife, afrying pan, and a bulletproof vest:

So what gives? Why the fuck would this be here?

Well the first conclusion you might reach (and the one I did the first time I watched) is that it’s a supply/hunting store from before Showfall took over. There are obvious remnants all over the place that this was once an active and functioning mall. Like how Charlie and the other streamers were in the small restaurant booths you’d find in a food court. So it wouldn’t be that surprising to find a store with some scraps from before Showfall right?

Except that doesn’t make total sense. Sure at first glance it may seem like that kind of store, with the knife, bulletproof vest, nets, and camo designs all over.

But so far I’ve only mentioned items they grab. I’m not going to show images for all of the following, you can double check if you doubt me, but there are also things including a giant hammer, a leaf blower, an old fashioned gas mask, a small crocodile head, a bell, several jackets, a bucket labeled SLIME (which I talk briefly about in Theory 11), a fire extinguisher, a helium tank, a mannequin body with a scarf, and several bags and jackets.

Why would a store have those? And they’re not haphazardly thrown in piles, some of these things are hung on the walls or in the display cases. These were placed here intentionally.

It’s not 100% clear why it’s like this, but my theory is that this was a ploy by Showfall. Charlie and Ranboo were meant to find this store because the items here would give them supplies and give them hope that they could find their way out.

After all, why else would the store be open and fully lit up? If it was a defunct old storage space, it wouldn’t be so perfectly inviting for Charlie and Ranboo.

In Theory 8 I speculated that Showfall might have had more control in Episode 3 than we were led to believe. That they were still pulling the strings. This whole situation sort of supports that. If Showfall was in control, they could easily herd Charlie and Ranboo into the store by having the employees chase them and have the store set up beforehand to give them the objects and tools that Showfall wanted them to have.

Ultimately, I think this might have been originally a hunting supplies store (something reasonably common in malls across the USA) before Showfall took over, but they used it partially as a place to store extraneous props but also a set up for Charlie and Ranboo.

More Theories

#theory #ranboo #generation loss #genloss #genloss theory #generation loss theory #charlie slimecicle #Charlie Genloss #genloss slimecicle #Genloss Charlie

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upon-a-starry-night · 2 years ago

Text

Number Neighbors Pt.3

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha masterlist Series Masterlist

Pt2

Word Count: 1k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

You and Nat began texting regularly back and forth every day, despite her initial hesitance to talk to a stranger it seemed like maybe she was beginning to open up to you, and it was safe to say she was on your mind 24/7- which after one too many glasses of wine and rom-coms lead you to pick up your phone and send her a text you were far too drunk to think over

Nat🔪

Y/n🍦:

Heyyy segg-c ;)

The response wasn’t immediate although you could see she had viewed your message, you pouted at her lack of reply and sloppily typed out another message. You were relying solely on auto-correct to convey your emotions

Y/n🍦:

Don’t ignore m3 :(

Nat🔪:

Sorry-

What’s up?

Y/n🍦:

I’m lonely

How cme no one un New York wants to date me?

Nat🔪:

Maybe because people in New York suck?

Y/n🍦:

I want to agree but technically I live in New York

which means your saying that I suck

Nat🔪:

You're*

And I mean

-If the shoe fits

Y/n🍦:

Shhh my brain can’t think grammar right now

>:0

Currently sobbing and not because of the Rom-coms

Nat🔪:

I’m kidding

You only wear Duck socks anyway

Y/n🍦:

Stalker!

How did you know I was wearing them?

Nat🔪:

Well last time you were watching TV you were wearing them

I just guessed

Y/n🍦:

I don’t believe you

I knew you were an FBI agent!

Nat🔪:

You got me.

Surprise

Y/n🍦:

wait really?!

Nat🔪:

Yep, I’m actually right outside your window

You, being in the drunken excited state that you were in, immediately dropped your phone on the couch and ran to the window, searching for signs of anyone but the local crackhead on the streets. Much to your dismay, no one was there

Meanwhile, Nat was silently praising herself for getting you to believe her story, but it was obvious you were probably under the influence of some sort of substance and despite you being a total stranger you were remotely interesting and she could humor herself a bit longer.

Nat🔪

Y/n🍦:

You’re mean

Nat🔪:

Just so you know I’m laughing so hard right now

Y/n🍦:

I don’t tolerate liars in the sacred house of Y/n

Nat🔪:

I didn’t know you were a religious figure

Y/n🍦:

well when you look as hot as I do…

People can’t help but worship you

Nat🔪:

Understandable

I’m sure you look great

Although your cheeks were already red from alcohol consumption, you were sure that if you had any friends they would point out the noticeable blush on your face

Y/n🍦:

Thanks ;)

I’m sure you look great too

Nat🔪:

Yep

People are falling over themselves as I sit in my Pajama pants and Tank top

Nat looked up at the sound of someone entering the living room. Clint, surprised that someone else was in the room, tripped over his own feet and fell straight onto the floor, Nat chuckled to herself while Clint just groaned. Huh, guess she was right.

“What are you doing awake Nat?” Clint stood and rubbed the back of his neck, stretching his now-aching muscles

“I could ask you the same thing” Nat shot back

“I’m just getting a snack,” He explained, opening the fridge and taking out some leftover pasta that Wanda had made, Nat lifted her brow in a silent question but Clint just shrugged and grabbed a fork

“Whatever, fine, don’t tell me I didn’t even want to know” He mumbled as he walked back to the elevator to go to his room

Nat decided her room would probably be a more appropriate space for privacy and left the living room for the solace of her bed

She knew she could look you up and find out who you were in seconds but it was nice to finally talk to someone new who wasn’t a target for a mission. And you were actually pretty fun to talk to. Maybe she’d just take a peek in the morning. For now, she was reveling in the moment.

Y/n🍦:

What kind of pajama pants?

Was the question Y/n had sent, along with a picture of her own pants, which had rainbows all over them. She laughed to herself, haha gay.

She needed to drink less next time.

Nat🔪:

Wow.

Nothing as interesting as those

Nat debated sending a picture of her plain gray pajama pants and after what felt like ten minutes of internal struggle, finally snapped a quick photo and sent it

Y/n🍦:

Booooo! Gray

You know a person's pajama pants say

A lot about their personality

Nat🔪:

I’m offended

Y/n🍦:

Good, you should be.

I’m offended too

Offended that you’d even consider buying pants so boring

Nat🔪:

What’s wrong with gray?

It’s a great neutral color

Y/n🍦:

Is that what you want your personality to be Nat

Gray?

Nat🔪:

Well what would you suggest I wear then

Miss Rainbow pants?

Y/n🍦:

Rainclouds

Since you’re so grumpy all the time

Nat🔪:

You’re really pushing your luck

Might just have to delete your number now

Y/n🍦:

No!

I thought we were friends

Nat🔪:

Strangers

Y/n🍦:

Strange friends.

Nat🔪:

Don’t you have a job or something?

How come you’re always up so late?

You should sleep

Y/n🍦:

Don’t You have a job??

Maybe you should go to sleep

Nat🔪:

I’m trying but this crazy stranger keeps

Texting me all night and keeping me awake

Y/n🍦:

They sound like a great person

You two should definitely meet

Nat🔪:

Goodnight Y/n.

Y/n🍦:

:( fine

Good night Nat, good luck sleeping in your Gray bed

Nat scrolled up and checked the picture that she sent, confirming that her bedspread was in fact, not in the photo

Nat🔪:

How’d you know it was gray?

Y/n🍦:

like I said-

A person’s pajama pants say a lot about them

Nat just shook her head as she shut off her phone, a smile on her face, You really were something. The more she talked to you the harder she found it to stop texting you.

Pt.4

-I had a random number invite me to a birthday party not too long ago. What’s your weirdest random number story?~ Starry

------

Taglist @romanoffsgal

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artyandink · 1 year ago

Text

we could be more | dean winchester | 3

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

BLOODLUST

NOW PLAYING: REVENGE - TANFEELZ

I walked down the stairs, and when he saw me, Dean choked on his morning coffee while Sam sipped it, amused.

“Morning, boys.” I smiled, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring one of my own, adding creamer.

“Morning.” Sam smirked.

“Is that what you’re wearing on the case?” Dean asked, putting his hand over his chest. I looked down at my outfit, wondering if I should start teasing him or not. I was wearing a black cropped tank top, high-waisted slim jeans and was wearing a baseball cap.

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “What, can’t call me Beanie now?”

“I still will and you know it.”

“Course you will, but what about my outfit is distracting, Dean?”

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam chuckled.

“Nothing.” He coughed. “Let’s just get in the Impala as quickly as we can. I can’t wait to drive her again.”

We were now in the Impala, driving to Red Lodge cause we’d gotten another case. Dean was happily singing along to the music, while Sam and I watched him, amused.

“Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?” He whooped, grooving along to the music.

”If you two ever wanna get a room, let Sam and I know.” I quipped, making Sam laugh.

”Oh, don't listen to them, baby. They don’t understand us.” He cooed.

”You’re in a good mood.” Sam smirked.

”Why shouldn't I be?”

“No reason.”

”Got my car, got my case, things are looking up…”

”Wow, Dean, give you a couple of severed heads and mutilated cows and you’re Mr Sunshine.” I chuckled, making Sam cackle, and Dean laughed too, to my surprise.

”How far to Red Lodge?” He asked.

”300 miles.” Sam replied.

Dean’s eyes glanced back to where my bandage used to be, thinking. ”Beanie, are you good for me to-“

”Dean, I’m not fragile, just floor it.” I rolled my eyes, and he pressed the pedal to the metal, speeding up.

We walked up to the sheriff in his office, who admittedly had an impressive moustache.

“Hello sir, we’re with World Weekly News.” I introduced. “My name’s Lily Carter, and these are my partners Fred Logan,” I pointed at Sam, “and Jensen Barnes.” I gestured to Dean. “Is it alright if we ask a few questions?” I asked, and Dean and Sam looked at me in masked surprise, wondering how I lied so naturally.

“The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time.” He replied coldly.

“Sure, sure, we understand that,” Sam nodded, “but just for the record, you found the first, uh, head last week, correct?”

“Mhmm.”

“And the other, a, uh, Christina Flanagan.”

“That was two days ago. Is there-“ A lady knocked at the door, pointing at her watch. The sheriff turned back to us, frowning. “Alright, you three, time’s up.”

“One last question-“

“Yeah, what about the cattle?” Dean interrupted, stopping the sheriff.

“Excuse me?” He asked, eye twitching.

“You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained... over a dozen cases.”

“What about them?”

“Is there no connection at all, Sherriff?” I persisted, writing down my notes in a notebook.

“Connection… with..?”

”First cattle mutilations, now two murders? Kinda sounds like ritual stuff.” Sam insinuated casually.

“Satanic ritual stuff.” Dean added.

“You’re not kidding…” The sheriff trailed off.

”No.”

”Those cows aren't being mutilated. You wanna know how I know?”

“How?” I asked.

“Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within forty eight hours the bloat'll split it open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground and get soaked up because that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you work for?”

“Weekly World News.” Dean said confidently.

“World Weekly News.” Sam corrected.

“Weekly World-“

”World Weekly-“

”Weekly-“

”World-“

“World Weekly News.” I finished, closing my notebook. “They’re new. We’ll be leaving you to it, officer.” I walked out, prompting the two to follow after.

“How are you so good at lying?” Sam asked.

“You get good once you become a freak of nature.” I replied. “Hide your name or people will be after your blood and secrets.”

“What next?” Dean asked.

“Examine the bodies. I’ve got a couple of doctor’s coats in the car.”

“You touched my baby without telling me?”

“I cleaned the fingerprints off, Dean, you’re fine.”

We walked over to the front desk of the morgue wearing our doctor’s coats. There was an intern at the desk, and when we walked up to the desk, Dean took a look at the tag, which read ‘J. Manners’.

“John.” Dean guessed.

“Jeff.” Jeff grimaced.

“Jeff.” He repeated. “I know that. Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”

“But Dr Dworkin’s on vacation.”

“But he’s back and he’s screaming for you right now, so if I were you, I would…” Dean whistled, and Jeff ran away.

“Real smooth, Dean.” I sighed, taking a lock-picking tool and opening the door, letting us into the room with the heads.

“Yeah, I know. Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?“

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead.” Sam confirmed.

“Yeah. So much f'd up stuff happens in Florida.” We got three pairs of latex gloves and put them on, wheeling out a tray of a corpse with a box between it’s legs. “All right, open it.”

“No, you open it.”

“No, you-“

”You-“

“Both of you are wusses.” I rolled my eyes, carrying the box to a table and opening it. They both approached, wincing at the sight of the decapitated girl’s head. “So, decapitated head, which is nasty, but the forehead is clean.”

“Wow. Poor girl.” Sam tutted.

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat.” Dean suggested. “You know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”

“Yeah, here, go ahead.”

“No, you go ahead.”

“You thought of it.”

“‘Put the lotion in the basket.’” Not a quote from Silence of the Lambs.

“Again, you’re wusses.” I searched in the mouth, checking the teeth and airways.

”Beanie, do you need me to catch you if you-“

”I’m not going to faint, Dean, but you might.”

“Just checking.”

”Dean, get me a bucket.” Sam asked from behind me.

“Did she find something?”

“No, I’m gonna puke.”

“Hey, guys.” I beckoned them over and lifted up the lip again, and both of them retched. “Oh, grow up. Look at the gum. This hole here?” I pressed a hole in the gum, and two pointed teeth sprang out.

“It's a tooth.”

“Sam, that’s a fang.” Dean corrected. “Retractable set of vampire fangs. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Well, that changes things.” Sam grinned.

“Ya think?”

We entered a bar, where there was a man smoking at the counter. We were moving to sit down when Dean pulled out my chair for me and tucked it in when I moved to sat down. Sam and I gave him a weird look, but let it go.

“How's it going?” Dean nodded, sitting down.

“Living the dream.” The bartender replied coolly. “What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

“So, we're looking for some people.” Sam started nervously.

“Sure. Hard to be lonely.”

“Yeah. But um, that's not what I meant.” He dropped a 50 dollar bill on the table, and the bartender took it. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink...”

“Sleep all day, party all night, kind of thing.” I added.

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot - drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.” The bartender informed, cleaning a glass.

“Right, thanks.” We got up, leaving our half-finished beers on the table. The man who was at the bar was gone, but his cigarette was left. We walked out, and I took my gun out of my pocket, holding it inconspicuously.

“Do you also see the guy behind us?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, we do.” Dean hissed. “Let’s lose him then question him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I whispered, and we quickly went to the right, and heard the footsteps behind us stop.

“Beanie, stay back, cause if this guy’s a vamp, he’s dangerous.”

“The hell I will. Why are you being so protective?”

“He’s here.” Sam muttered.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Dean grumbled before he sprang out, taking out a knife and throwing the guy against a wall, holding the blade to his neck. “Smile.”

“What?”

“Show us those pearly whites.”

“Oh, for the love of -- you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire.” He looked at Sam’s stunned face and nodded the best he could. “Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.”

“What do you know about vampires?” Sam interrogated.

“How to kill ‘em. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.“ He started to pull away, but Sam reached in and pinned him harder to the wall. “Easy there, Chachi. We’re trying to keep me conscious here, aren’t we-“ I pulled Dean’s hand away from the guy’s neck and hook punched him, making him groan.

“You’re not in charge here, we are.” I growled, cocking my gun and holding it up. “So you better give us something before you find this at your temple.”

“Alright, alright!” He pulled up his lip, showing us his gum. “No fangs, happy? Gorgeous form, by the way.” Sam let him go, all of us relaxing.

“Damn, Ivy.” Sam breathed.

“Damn it is.” Dean chuckled.

“I like her.” The man chuckled, gesturing to me. “She one o’ your girlfriends, or somethin’?”

“They’d be honoured if I was.” I smirked.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Ivonne Rainer.”

He looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. “Rainer? You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”

“Mick Rainer?” Dean repeated.

“Yeah, I’m his daughter.” I breathed. “What of it?”

“I’ll be damned.” He grinned. “I’m Gordon. Come with me.” We started walking to the car park. “And you boys?”

“Sam Winchester.” Sam introduced. “And, uh, my brother Dean.”

“I’ll be damned again. John Winchester’s boys? It’s like I’ve hit a jackpot.” We reached his car, and he opened it, revealing an arsenal of weapons. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot. Then there’s Michael Rainer.” He turned to me, whistling. “I ain’t ever met a man who can wrangle a spirit, demon, ‘geist, you name it- faster than he can. Shame he passed away as well.”

“Your dad’s dead?” Sam asked me, looking concerned.

“Again, story for another time.” I groaned, folding my arms.

“You seem to know a lot about our families.” Dean frowned.

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk.”

“I don’t think they do.” I scoffed.

“There’s a lot your dads didn’t tell you, then.”

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam asked.

“Yep, been here two weeks.” I looked at his arsenal until I saw the hook, which had bloodstains on it. They were fresh. I looked back at Gordon, biting my lip.

“You ok?” Dean whispered in my ear. “Anything hurting?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I snapped back.

“Just checkin’, Beanie.” He turned back to Gordon. “Did you check out that Barker farm?”

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” Gordon shook his head.

“Where's the nest, then?”

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”

“We can help.”

”Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”

“Come on, man, I’ve been itching for a hunt.”

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” Gordon got in his car, looking out. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off, leaving us to stew in the events. I slipped the keys to the Impala from Dean’s pocket, storming over to the car.

“Bea- Ivonne!” Dean called, walking behind me. “What the hell?!”

Sam’s footsteps joined Dean’s. ”Dean, let me handle this-“

“No!”

I got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door. Dean and Sam got in, Dean in the seat beside me. I groaned in frustration, thankful that I didn’t have my powers. “Stupid Gordon revealing stupid everything-“

”Revealing what- Ivonne, talk to me! What the hell’s going on-“

”Dean!” Sam silenced Dean, leaning forward. “Can we talk about this once we’ve actually gotten a place to stay? Cause I personally don’t wanna die in a car crash and the last thing I hear is you two yelling it out!”

Dean sat back in his seat, groaning. “Fine.”

I didn’t say anything, I just started driving.

When we got a motel, the first thing Dean did was round on me.

“Is that the person who died, Ivonne?” He interrogated. “Cause you seem a whole lot angrier since Gordon mentioned Mick Rainer’s death.”

”What happened to my dad is none of your business-“

“A lot of things about you is none of our business!” Dean burst out. “Hell, the most I know about you is your name and what kind of coffee you like! You said your dad wasn’t around a lot and now both Sam and I know why, but you’re not telling us anything!”

“What about you, Dean, huh?” I countered, stepping forward and sizing him up. I was shorter, but oh well. “You’re not tellin’ me a lotta things either. You’re acting like I’m gonna collapse and die any minute, asking me if I’m doin’ ok, pullin’ out my chair, so what’s the deal about that, eh?” Dean seemed at a loss for words.

“We get that the subject is sensitive, but our dad died too.” Sam calmly explained. “We’d know how you feel.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“It’s hard to believe, but we do, and we want to help. We’re here to protect you. Tell us what happened.”

I stayed silent.

“Then we’ll wait.” Sam assured, then hugged me. Dean stood there awkwardly, looking guilty. But not for this, I don’t think. When we stepped back, Sam smiled. “I’m gonna go get us some dinner.” He left, and Dean went into the bathroom. I opened my satchel, taking out some spare pyjamas and changing into them, laying joggers out for the boys. I changed into shorts, but the moment I pulled my top over my head, Dean walked in. He looked me up and down for a moment, at a loss for words again.

“Damn.” He coughed, then seemed to realise. “Not damn, bad Dean-”

”You’re good.” I smiled briefly, pulling my pyjama top on. “We’re gonna be in this kind of situation a lot. I, uh, packed some joggers for you.”

”Thanks.” He picked them up, looked at them, paused, then put them down. “Look, Ivonne, I’m sorry.”

”For what?” I chuckled. “You’re right. You don’t know anything about me.”

”But what happened to your dad is your business. I’m not gonna pry, just tell me when you’re ready.”

”I can work with that.”

“And about the protecting you and all that jazz, it’s cause I blame myself for that knife in you.” I immediately turned to him, folding my arms.

“Hey, no, it wasn’t.”

”It’s just… it was my job to locate that guy and if I’d done it a little faster, your life wouldn’t be on the line.”

”You’d only find me dead with a knife in my jugular.”

”That’s specific.” He joked until he quietened down. “That’s how your dad died.”

”Close.” I smiled.

“And you’re attached to the name Lily Carter too.” He deduced. “She close?”

”They.” I paused, sitting on my bed. “Lily and Carter Rainer. My brother and sister.” Dean sat beside me, clasping his hands. Sam walked back in, and, sensing the situation, pulled up a chair. “I think I should tell you what happened. You guys told me the deal with your mom, so it’s fair play.”

”When you’re ready.” Sam nodded.

“I was meant to be the eldest sibling of five. It was me, then Carter, fifteen, then Quinn, Carter’s twin, then Lily, thirteen, then my mom’s unborn child, just 18 weeks in. I was 19. Quinn had been diagnosed with cancer just before mom got pregnant, and died soon after. It broke everyone, and even the gender reveal of my baby brother didn’t cheer anyone up. It was like we were soulless, and I didn’t talk to anyone for a long time, especially not Carter, who started acting up.” I paused, breathing out shakily.

“You need to cut that attitude, young man.” I growled, facing Carter. “Quinn and dad are both dead, I know-“

”You don’t know!” He shouted.

”The hell I do! I’m trying my hardest to-“

”That’s where you’re wrong, Ivonne, cause you’re not trying at all.” Carter seethed. “Lily was taken out of school cause she kept crying and where are you during the day when I get into a fight?”

”Taking care of our mother.” I frowned. “Y’know, cause she’s pregnant with our brother and dad isn’t even alive to help so that means that I have to step in. Heck, he wasn’t even here in the first place. Just… go to your room!” I pointed to his room, and he stalked off, giving me a nasty look.

“Take your time.” Dean murmured.

”Nah, I need to… I need to get this out.” I gulped, trying to stop my voice from breaking. “If I don’t, I’ll explode. One day, we get the news that dad was found dead, but his heart was carved out of his body, almost so perfectly it was surgical. I completely bricked out Carter by then, cause I thought he didn’t need me and I had my own problems. Seems like a dreamwalking demon found his emotions good enough to feed on. In the night, I hear a scream, and then silence.” Tears started to fill my eyes as my voice broke. “I run to investigate and I find Lily dead with a knife stuck right through her jugular.”

I was reading a book, flipping the pages absent-mindedly. I frowned, looking at the introduction of the main character’s younger brother-

“IVY!” I heard Lily scream. “IVY, HE-“

Silence.

“Lily!” I called, leaping out of bed and rushing up the stairs. “LILY!” I burst into her room and almost collapsed, and she was lying in her bed, eyes open and a terrorised face.

But there was a knife stuck straight through her throat.

“Lily!” I cried, running over. “Lily…” I felt tears run down my face as I kissed her forehead, smoothing back her hair. I cradled her, sobbing as I tried to ignore the gaping hole that had appeared in me where Lily once was. “I’m so sorry, Lil. I’m so sorry…”

“God.” Dean breathed.

”Then I hear mom scream, then silence. I go up to her bedroom and there she is, a knife through her jugular and another in her belly, where my unborn brother was. We were going to name him Nathan. He wasn’t even alive yet and he was murdered…” I wiped a tear that went down my face. “Carter was there, smirking as if he did me a favour. Then another knife appeared in his hand, and he was about to do the same to me when he stopped and he…” I let out a loud sob, burying my face into my hands. Sam instantly moved to side hug me, while Dean gripped my hand. “He stabbed the knife… straight through his own throat. He was dead before he hit the ground. He wasn’t even awake in the first place.”

I’d barely finished mourning over Lily when a second scream pierced the house, which was my mom’s.

”PLEASE, SPARE ME! IVY, HELP ME-“

Silence.

I left Lily reluctantly, sprinting up the stairs two at a time to try and get there before the killer left. “MOM!” I kicked down her door, and I screamed at the sight. Blood stained her sheets, and there were two knives in her, one in her jugular and the other in her belly, where my now dead unborn brother is. I looked at the perpetrator and almost screamed.

It was Carter.

He was standing there, eyes glazed but a wicked grin on his face as he held another knife, preparing to throw it at me. However, in the nick of time, I felt my hand close around something. I didn’t even think about how I could use whatever was given to me, I just raised it, my finger pulled something and two loud bangs emitted from it, two holes appearing in my brother’s chest, and just after a black smoke flew up and out of the window. I stared at what was given to me with shaking hands, gasping in horror. It was a gun.

I’d shot my brother.

I ran over to Carter, taking the nape of his neck in my hand as I looked into his eyes. They were still glazed, as if he was sleeping.

He was sleeping.

“A dreawalker got to you, Carter.” I whispered, my quiet sobs turning to racking ones. I checked the gun wounds, which were black and like a crater, almost. The gun was still in my hand as the front door was knocked down, policemen filing in.

”After that, I completely broke down. My family was gone and murdered. So I got out of the police case innocent, fled Jersey and I’ve been moving ever since.”

“That…” Sam paused. “I don’t even know what to say.”

”My mom made my middle name Hazel cause it’s what she originally wanted to name me.” I whispered. “Her death, little Nate’s death, haunts me everyday. Even dad’s. I tried to buffer it by making the excuse that dad wasn’t there for anything and that mom cheated on him when she got the chance to, but it still hurts like hell. I can’t help but think if the dreamwalker will come back to finish the job with me.”

“Daniel Elkins?” I called out, venturing in. An old man turned around, frowning.

“Who’s askin’?” He rumbled, standing up.

”Ivonne Rainer, Michael Rainer’s daughter.”

”You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”

”That’s right.” He took a look at my face, nodding.

”You look just like him. Got a little bit of Audrey too.”

”I’ve been told.”

“I’m sorry for your losses.”

”Thank you.” I nodded, then held out the gun. “I developed a sorceress’s powers the night I got this gun, my powers gave it to me, but it’s not an ordinary one. I talked to hunters who knew my dad and they pointed me to you.” I gave him the gun, which he examined.

”Your powers are a blessin’, girl.” He said gruffly. “This is called the Colt. Can kill anyone an’ anything and all you have to do is pull the trigger and have good aim.”

“Can you handle it?”

”Course I can. Who d’you shoot with this?”

”My brother, just after a dreamwalker left his body.”

He clapped my shoulder, looking solemn. “Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”

”Ivonne, I am so sorry.” Dean pulled me into a hug, kissing my head. “I don’t have words either. But what happened isn’t your fault.”

“And we won’t let that dreamwalker hurt you.” Sam assured.

”We’ll kill it before it does.”

I felt kind of grateful for having Dean and Sam with me, but I also felt guilty.

”Do you need one of us to stay with you tonight?” Sam asked softly.

”Most likely.” I smiled awkwardly, then Dean raised his hand.

“I’ll do it. Sammy’s gonna take up the bed, him and his giant DNA.” Dean volunteered, clapping Sam on the shoulder. He turned to me. “Whatcha thinking about?”

”I wanna track this Gordon guy.” I told them. “If he’s hunting vampires, he’s gonna do it tomorrow night and one may kill him. We don’t need another dead hunter.”

“She’s right.” Sam nodded. “We can track him down in the morning.”

”In the meantime, I packed joggers for you guys.” I gestured to the joggers. “I figured that we’d need a change of clothes if we happened to stay the night anywhere.”

“So that’s where that pair went.” Sam chuckled. “Nice one.”

“Now we don’t have to sleep in jeans.” Dean grinned, picking his up.

Dean emerged from the bathroom with just his joggers on, making Sam groan.

“Dean, it’s not you and I anymore.” He sighed.

“You’re acting like I haven’t seen a guy shirtless.” I smirked, making them double take. “Yeah. I have flings too.”

“Is Alex Wilde one of them, Beanie?” Dean smirked.

“No.”

“Well, there’s always time for it.”

“Ivy, are you comfortable with it?” Sam asked.

“Course. I practically raised Carter, so I can handle you both.

“That’s settled, then.” Dean grinned, shoving himself under the blanket. I quickly did my hair into a rope braid, and Dean’s eyes seemed to be… somewhere… on me.

“Dean…?” I raised an eyebrow, turning.

“Yeah, Beanie?”

“What are you staring at?”

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam smirked.

”I-I was staring at your necklace.” Dean stammered. “Wasn’t there before.”

“Ellen gave it. It was my mom’s.” I grinned, ruffling his hair. “But it’s cute when you’re flustered.” I got into bed, laying down next to Dean, both of us facing the ceiling. Sam turned off the light and laid down, falling asleep soon after. I heard a shift next to me.

“Beanie?” He muttered.

“Yeah?” I softly replied, turning my head to face his.

“What was Carter like?”

“He was like Sam, really. Smart, loyal, brave. Stubborn as hell. There’s not anything I wouldn’t have done for him. But he became a wreck after Quinn died, and it was so hard to recognise him. I guess that’s why I went so hard on him. I think I was trying to restore him in the worst way possible when I couldn’t deal myself.”

”I get that.” He whispered. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Sammy.”

”I can tell.” I smiled. “Even though you two fight like raccoons sometimes, you protect him. I just wished that I could have had the same thing with Carter.”

“You did what you had to do.” He assured. “Poor kid could’ve suffered worse had he woken up and been arrested for the murder of his family.”

”I suppose.” I shrugged. “Then again, I would’ve put my prints on the knives and said that I did it.” We stayed silent, just staring at the ceiling.

I shivered; it was cold. And, as if he had a radar, Dean sat up on his elbow, looking over. “You’re cold.”

“Excellent spot, Dean.”

“Sammy once said that staying close can preserve body heat.”

“Dean Winchester, are you trying to hit on me?”

“No, no! I do not. It’s that… I’m really warm, and I don’t want you to be cold cause then you’ll be uncomfortable-“

”I get it.” I grinned. “Sure.”

“Alright, uh…” He chuckled. “How are we gonna do this?” I scooted up to him, laying my head in the crook of his neck while my hand rested on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arms.

“You weren’t kidding.” I laughed. “This is like a radiator.”

“And you weren’t kidding about being cold.” He kissed my hair, sighing afterwards. “It’s only been a few, Beanie, and it doesn’t always seem like it, but I care about you. You take care of Sammy when I can’t. Heck, you’ve even saved my life-“

”Don’t say it.” I whispered, looking up. “Cause I know.”

I opened my eyes, yawning softly. Dean’s eyes were shut and Sam was cocooned in his blanket, so I pried myself out of Dean’s arms and quickly changed into a Led Zeppelin band shirt and jeans, pulling a black beanie over my head. Carter’s beanie. I got out a map, sat at the table and started triangulating the two murders and finding out the third location.

”Thanks, dad.” I whispered as I circled the third. I left a note for Sam and Dean, walking out and coincidentally running into Gordon.

“Morning, Ivonne.” He nodded.

“Gordon.” I replied with a small smile. “I thought I was the only early bird today.”

”I like to get a head start.” He grinned, and I felt unsettled a bit.

“Understandable.”

”Hey, uh, the gun you pointed at me, was that your dad’s gun?”

”It was.” I took it out of the inside of my jacket, holding it up.

“Mick Rainer’s gun.” Gordon chuckled. “Stuff of legend among hunters. There’s talk that it dated back farther than the Colt, and every owner, before passing it on, heats the metal and remoulds it, making the pattern-“

”-in the image of the next chosen holder, complete with their name.” I stored the gun back, smirking. “I know that story off by heart, thanks. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get breakfast for the boys.”

”BEANIE-“ Dean rushed out then stopped, still pulling on his shirt. “Oh.”

”Dean, I left a note.” I sighed.

”But I had to check!” He slumped. “Fine. Sam is cranky.”

”We better get that breakfast then.” I grinned. “Nice running into you, Gordon.” We walked off, and Dean turned to me, leaning in.

“Got a beer in your satchel?”

”I have a breath mint.”

”Ouch.”

That night, we were driving up to the farm which I’d said was Gordon’s next hit location. We went over, and there Gordon was, close to getting decapitated. Sam sprang into action, pulling Gordon out, while I punched the vampire, Dean rushing in to deliver another hit while I kicked him. The vampire was shoved against the belt, and Dean reached up, bringing the saw down on his head.

I watched while a vampire got brutally killed. And as he stared down on the body, with blood splattered on his face, Dean didn’t look guilty. Not in the slightest.

He looked like he enjoyed it.

I frowned, looking down as Gordon laughed, looking up. “I guess I owe you that drink.” We headed to the bar, where Gordon paid for the drinks. “I insist. Thank you, sweetie.“ He raised a glass, and Dean did too. “And another one bites the dust.”

”That’s right.” Dean smirked, both of them clinking glasses.

”Dean.” Gordon cackled. “You gave that big fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you.”

”Beautiful. It was absolutely beautiful.”

”Beautiful?” I cut in. Sam just stayed silent, laid back in his seat.

”You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked.

”Yeah.” Sam nodded.

”Well, lighten up, Sammy!” Gordon encouraged.

”Only Dean and Ivy get to call me that.”

“Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

”Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess.”

”Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job.”

“See? That's what I've been trying to tell him. You could learn a thing or two from this guy.” Dean gestured to Gordon, but I tilted my head. Really? This dude?”

”Yeah, I could.” Sam grimaced, then stood up. “I’m not gonna put a downer on your parade. I’m going back to the motel.”

”I’ll go with him.” I stood up as well, smiling falsely as I walked behind Sam. “You boys enjoy yourselves.”

“Hey, Sam?” Dean called, making Sam and I turn around. “Remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you later.” He threw the keys to Sam, who caught them. We walked out in silence, until Sam looked up.

Sam coughed. “Is it just me, or-“

“Is Dean being a douche?” I smirked. “Yeah. Big time.”

“This Gordon guy seems really off.”

“He does.” I nodded. “So I’ve got a way to find out who this guy is.”

We hung the keys in our room, and I dialled a number, putting it on speaker.

‘Harvelle's Roadhouse.’

“Ellen?” I grinned. “It’s Ivvy. Sam’s with me, and you’re on speaker.”

‘Ivvy, Sam! So good to hear from you.’

“Same here, Ellen.” Sam laughed.

‘You three are ok, aren’t you?’

“Yeah, we just had something to run by you.” I looked at Sam, patting him on the shoulder.

‘Yeah, shoot.’

“Has a guy called Gordon Walker ever stopped by your bar?” Sam asked.

‘Yeah, I know Gordon.’

“And?”

‘Well, he's a real good hunter. Why are you asking, sweetie?’

“We ran into him on a job and we’ll, we’re kind of working with him-“

‘Don’t do that, Sam.’ She warned.

“I thought you said he was a good hunter.” I frowned.

‘Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good psychiatrist. Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he's working on a job you boys just let him handle it and you move on.’

Sam looked concerned, so he spoke up. “But Ellen-“

‘No, Sam- you just… listen to what I’m telling you, ok?’

”Alright, Ellen.” I nodded then said bye and cut the call. “Do we trust her information?”

“Rather her than Gordon.” Sam shrugged. “Besides, he sounded spooked.”

“We need to warn Dean.” I sighed. “Before it’s too late and he’s a copy of Gordon.” We went out, Sam putting coins in a machine and taking out two Cokes. He gave one to me, and I cracked it open and drank some out of it. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I ignored it.

“Do you need my to get some food from the other one?” I asked.

“Two packets of crisps, maybe.” He nodded so I went to the other one-

Oh, god.

Noises of fighting rang out behind me, in which Sam was knocked out by two people, one holding a telephone that was used to knock him out. I pulled out my gun, aiming it at the woman who was holding it,

“Bad move.” I growled. “You never attack someone when their back is turned.” One of them bared their fangs at me, but the woman stopped him. “Take one step, I dare you.”

“She’s holding Michael Rainer’s gun.” The woman whispered to her companion. “She’s his daughter.”

“What of it?” I frowned.

“Can we trust her?” The man asked her.

“We can try.” She whispered, then spoke up. “My name’s Lenore. I knew your father.”

“Many people did.” I scoffed. “You’re just another Joe and Jane.”

“He helped us.” She smiled. “And you can too. We need your help, Ivonne. He told us you could, if you ever found us.”

I lowered my gun a little, then stiffened up. “How can I trust you?”

“‘One bullet can make one family and break another as well, so be careful where you use it.’.” She cited. “He told us a lot about you. About the scar cutting across your eyebrow and where you got it from, which was your first hunt.” She gestured to her own eyebrow, and I started to get the thought that she wasn’t lying. “How you stole his old leather jacket and love wearing beanies. How he would’ve given anything to see you more. We need your help, so please, don’t shoot.”

I took a deep breath before lowering my gun. “Fine. But I go anywhere Sam goes.”

“Ok, but you have to promise not to tell anyone where the nest is.” She begged, and I nodded.

I was waiting for Sam to wake up, when I heard a familiar voice call my name.

“Ivy?” I turned, seeing a guy with blonde hair and blue eyes who was making his way up to me. I laughed, standing up.

“Will?” I hugged him, grinning. “No way!”

“It’s so good to see you.” We stepped back, a goofy grin on his face. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna talk to me after we broke up.”

“It’s not the principle that you were a vampire.” I sighed. “It was the principle that I move around a lot for my work.”

He stared at me for a moment, a charged air in between us. “You like your work a lot, huh?”

“I’ve minimised vampire killings.” I smiled. “Only the evil ones.”

“That’s good.” He nodded. “I’m glad Lenore listened to my pitch.”

“I’m really proud of you, Will.” I paused, “Even if animal blood is the broccoli of your world.”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“And I owe you my life for that. Honestly, I thought you’d have gotten over me by now.”

“You’ve probably heard this a million times, Ivy, but you’re impossible to get over.” He looked down, rumpling his hair with his hand. “I was just beginning to come to terms with our breakup and… now you’re here.”

“Should I be happy or sad about that?” I chuckled.

“I’d rather you be happy.”

“Will.” Eli came in, rounding the corner. “We need the girl.”

“I’m coming.” I walked with Eli, and the moment Sam saw me, he started struggling.

“Did you turn her?!” He growled, trying to break free.

“I’m ok, Sammy.” I assured, kneeling down in front of him. “These guys are clean, trust me. They do drink animal blood.”

“We choke on cow's blood so that none of them suffer. Tonight they murdered Conrad and they celebrated.” Eli hissed.

“That’s enough, Eli.” Lenore warned.

”Yeah, Eli, that’s enough.” Sam teased.

“What's done is done. We're leaving this town tonight.”

“Then why bring us here?” I asked.

“Believe me, I'd rather not. But I know your kind. Once you have the scent you'll keep tracking us. It doesn't matter where we go. Hunters will find us.”

“So you’re asking us not to follow you.” Sam realised.

“We have a right to live. We're not hurting anyone.”

“Give me one reason why I should believe you.”

“You know what I’m gonna do?” She got closer. “I’m gonna let you go.” She turned to Will, gesturing to us both. “Take them back. Not a mark on either of them.”

“We need to stop Dean.” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, we do.” I nodded.

We got back, and I leaned in the window to the driver’s seat. “Thanks, Will.”

“It’s nothing.” He smiled, leaning closer.

“Trust me, I owe you a lot for what you’ve done.” I grinned, tilting my head. Resisting drinking my blood, making the switch to animal blood, tackling members of your own family just to keep me safe, it’s a lot-“ I was silenced by his lips on mine, and I cupped his cheek, grinning stupidly when I pulled away. “I owe you for that too.“

“Pay me back later.” He smirked. “Your friend there looks like he’s gonna burst out into laughter.” I heard a snort, and I turned to Sam, who was looking up to the sky.

“Don’t mind me.” Sam giggled. “I’m just looking at this really interesting pitch black sky while you two are smooching.”

“Shut up.” I pulled a newspaper out of my satchel, thwacking Sam across the head before stuffing it back in. “You’re such a child.”

“I never knew that you were a romantic.”

“I was.” I smiled. “Will was a boyfriend.”

“Looks like the boyfriend. You met him in the nest and now you’re both kissing. Will and Ivy, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G-“

”Scratch that, you’re a baby.” I opened the door to the motel room, and our smiles were wiped off our faces to see Gordon with Dean. I hung up my jacket, and my arm holster, which contained my gun, was left exposed.

”Where you been?” Dean asked.

“Can we talk to you alone?” Sam asked, and Dean seemed to agree.

“Mind chillin’ out for a couple minutes?” He followed us outside, and I shut the door.

“Dean, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What are you talking about? Where were you?”

”The nest.”

”You found it?”

“They found us, man.”

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?”

“None.”

“Well, they didn’t just let you go-”

“That’s exactly what they did, Dean.” I frowned.

“All right, well, where is it?” Dean asked.

“We were blindfolded, so no, we don’t know.” I lied.

“Well, you've got to know something.”

“We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”

“Why not?”

“We don't think they're like other vampires. We don't think they're killing people.” Sam urged.

“You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.” Dean asked, looking angry and confused.

”The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”

“And you believed them?”

“Look at us, Dean.” Sam gestured to him and I. “They let us go without a scratch.”

“Wait, so you're saying... no, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care.” He started walking, and we didn’t have much time to convince him. “We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?”

“What part of vampire do you not understand?” Dean growled. “If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“So you would kill me if I still had my powers?” I asked, silencing him for a moment. “We kill ‘evil’, Dean, not just any supernatural force. They’re not killing people, so we don’t kill them.”

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”

“No, Dean, I don't think so, all right? Not this time.”

“Gordon's been on those vamps for a year, man, he knows.”

“Gordon.“ I scoffed.

“Yes.” He nodded defiantly.

“You’re taking his word for it?” Sam asked cynically.

“That’s right.”

“Ellen says he’s bad news, Dean.” I persisted.

“You called Ellen?” Dean raised his eyebrows. We nodded. “And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Sam. You may know her, Ivonne, but no thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”

“Right, cause Gordon's such an old friend.” Sam seethed, fists clenching. “You don't think I can see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He's a substitute for Dad, isn't he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean’s teeth gritted, and I could practically feel the tension rising.

“He's not even close, Dean. Not on his best day.”

“You know what?” He chuckled, backing away. “I'm not even going to talk about this-“

“You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it.” Sam growled. “Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded, then punched Sam. I didn’t think; I just felt red hot rage boil up and my hand swung round, slapping some silence into Dean. He just stared at me, holding his jaw.

“Go.” I ordered, furious. “Go to your new best friend Gordon and when you’ve realised that we’ve been telling the truth, you’re come back and say sorry. And you better beg.”

He seemed to regain his pride, gritting his teeth. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.” He left, and I turned to Sam, turning his face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s bruising.” He nodded. “Are you okay, though? You seemed to blow up.”

“Yeah, I just thought of Carter.” I nodded. “If anyone touched him, they’d be on the floor in seconds, I don’t care who they are.”

”I didn’t wanna hurt Dean. He’s just blindsided.”

“Luckily I’m here to slap some sense into him, then.”

“But we really do need to convince him.”

“Fine.” We went back into the motel room, where Dean was gathering his stuff.

“Gordon?” Dean called, but there was no Gordon.

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.

“Most likely.”

“Dean, we have to stop him.” I urged.

“Really, Ivonne?” He scoffed, hand moving to his cheek, which was red. Good. “Cause I say we lend a hand.”

“Just give us the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe us that.” I paused. “You owe me, Dean.”

“Real good negotiator you are, Ivonne.”

“Careful, or your cheek might turn purple instead of red.” I shot back. “Think about it, Dean.”

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.” We looked to where the keys were supposed to be, but they were gone.

“He snaked the keys.” Sam whispered. We ran to the car, getting inside through picking the lock.

“I can't believe this. I just fixed her up, too.” Dean groaned while hot-wiring his car. ”So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?”

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm.” I informed, looking at my own map.

“How do you know?”

“I counted.”

“They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right and we hit the bridge.” Sam mapped out, tracing the path.

“You two are good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Dean grimaced.

We reached the house and went in, and I found both Lenore and Will tied to a chair, weak.

“Sam, Ivonne, Dean. Come on in.” Gordon grinned, holding a small bloody knife.

“Hey, Gordon. What's going on?” Dean asked, looking around.

”Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”

“Look, man-“

“Just grab a knife. I was about to start in on the fingers.” He made a cut down Lenore’s arm, and she wheezed weakly in pain. He did the same to Will, who groaned a bit louder, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to resist the pain.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, let's all just chill out, huh?”

“I am chill.” Gordon replied coolly.

“Gordon, just put the knife down.” Sam ordered, starting forward, but was stopped by Dean.

“Looks like Sam here needs to chill.”

“Just step away from her, all right?”

“You’re right, I’m wasting my time. These two will never talk. Might as well put them out of their misery.” He pulled out a knife. “Don’t worry, I sharpened it, so it’s completely humane.”

”Gordon, I'm letting her go.” Sam frowned, stepping in Gordon’s way.

“You’re not doing a damn thing.” Gordon seethed, pointing the knife at Sam’s chest.

“Hey, Gordon, let’s talk about this.” Dean protested feebly.

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”

“The hell there is.” I took out my gun from my arm holster, pulling the trigger and hitting Gordon’s knife. It broke in half, the metal clattering to the ground.

Dean stepped in. “That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one...”

“Killed my sister?” Gordon cackled. “That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”

“You did what?” I seethed.

”It wasn't my sister anymore, it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you, Dean.”

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam scoffed. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”

“Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” He slit Sam’s arm with the jagged knife, and Lenore’s teeth emerged, and she started to hiss and snarl. He pressed it to Sam’s throat, dragging him closer to Lenore.

“Let him go! Now!” Dean ordered, taking out his gun and aiming at Gordon.

”Relax. If I wanted to kill him he'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.” The blood from Sam’s cut hit Lenore’s face, making her eyes turn red. “You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.” A tear ran down Will’s face at the sight of Lenore, and my jaw clenched.

“No, no…” Lenore sobbed, regaining control of herself.

“You see that, Gordon?” I snapped, taking the knife away from him and using it to cut Lenore and Will free. He collapsed into my arms, trying to stay upright. I cupped his cheek, his forehead leaning against mine. “I’ve got you. It’s ok, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“We’re done here.” Sam fumed.

“Sam, Beanie, get ‘em outta here.” I helped Will outside while Sam did Lenore, taking out a cloth and cleaning both of them. I was still holding my gun, and I changed the cartridge, chucking it away.

“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” He asked.

”I have to.” I nodded. “Dean’s good, but Gordon knows more tricks.”

“Wait.” Will coughed, and then he kissed me gently. “Don’t get hurt. Please.”

“I won’t.” I assured before running inside. Dean flew through the air, hitting the wall and collapsing with a groan. I raised my gun, shooting Gordon in the shoulder, making his body fall back with the shock. His head hit the wall, and he slumped, unconscious.

“Good talk.” I smirked, training it on him.

”You came back?” Dean coughed, getting up.

”Yeah, I’m not leaving you with this sadist.” I picked Gordon up, slamming his head against a doorframe on my way to the chair that Will was previously tied up in. “Oops.” I drawled, dropping him in the chair. Dean tied him up, looking sick with himself.

”All that talk about black and white, but you’re the one who’s tied up.”

We were back at the motel, when we got out, I faced a now recovered Will with a smile.

”Thanks for saving my life.” He grinned. “I guess you don’t owe me one anymore. Kind of wanted an excuse to see you anytime.”

”I want to give you that excuse, really.”

He realised, nodding sadly, but masked it with his winning smile. “You’re leaving.”

”Sadly.” I bit my lip. “I wish we had more time.”

”Yeah, now I have to start another cycle of getting over you.” He joked, but still looked heartbroken.

“Well, I’m gonna make it harder, cause I still have to pay you back.” I grinned.

”Pay me back-“ I grabbed his collar, pulling him in for a kiss that he melted into instantly. His arms wrapped around my waist while mine went around his neck, my head tilting. His hands threaded in my hair-

“HAUN HAUN!” I heard Dean yell. “Mademoiselle et monsieur s’embrassent ! Que puis-je dire, c’est la vie !

“Ivonne et Will, assis dans un arbre!” Sam called. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

We pulled back, laughing. I turned to the boys, kissing my teeth. “You just HAD to say it in French!”

“Yeah!” Dean grinned.

“That was the WORST French I’ve ever heard!”

“Thanks!” Sam snickered.

It was a week since the Gordon incident, and we had returned to my house. I was reading a book on my bed, engrossed in a scene from it simply because the main character was dying and I don’t see that, like, ever.

“IVONNE!” I heard from outside. “HER LADYSHIP IVONNE RAINER OF THE KINGDOM OF NEW JERSEY, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HER CHAMBER WINDOW!” I rolled my eyes, putting down my book.

”What the hell?” I muttered. “What is this person playing at-“ I swept the curtain aside, and almost broke down laughing at who was heckling at my window. “Dean?!”

”Tis I!” He yelled, gesturing dramatically to himself.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Apologising!” He called back, a goofy grin on his face. “You said I needed to beg!”

”I never meant literally!”

“Too late!”

”Dean-“

”I HEREBY PROCLAIM THAT I, SIR DEAN WHO HAILS FROM THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, WAS A DOUCHEBAG.”

”AND?!”

”AN IDIOT.”

”AND?!”

”A SPINELESS, CORRUPT, HORRIBLE PIECE OF WORK. ANYTHING ELSE?”

”No, sounds like enough slander.” I smirked, gesturing for him to continue. He then got down on one knee, making Sam, who was watching from the other window and recording everything, lose his cool, cackling loudly.

“I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY AB-ABHORRENT BLASSsss…” He turned to Sam. “How d’you say it?”

”Blasphemy.” Sam repeated.

“RIGHT, UH, BLAS-PEMY. I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY ABHORRENT BLAS-PEMY AND I IMPLORE YOU TO COME THITHER AND ACCEPT MY DEAREST APOLOGY.”

“Should I?” I asked Sam, who was losing it.

“I don’t know, this is fun.”

“If I give you a kiss, Dean, will you stop?” I sighed, and he contemplated the situation before nodding. I went downstairs, swiping something from my drawer before meeting him outside.

“Where’s my kiss, milady?” He smirked, standing up. I took his hand and placed something in it: a Hershey’s kiss. He grimaced at me while Sam almost fell out of the window in his mirth. “Ha ha, very funny.”

“Needed to have an excuse to get rid of the last one.” I laughed. “But yeah, I forgive you. Now you need to repeat the act for Sam.” I grinned, patting him on the shoulder.

”SAMUEL! SIR SAMUEL WINCHESTER OF THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HIS CHAMBER WINDOW-“

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edupunkn00b · 7 months ago

Text

Roomies, Ch. 3: My Brother's Best Friend

Prev - My Brother's Best Friend - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3028 - Rated: This chapter, G-ish - CW: vaguely suggestive

Patton, Remus, Roman, and Logan at breakfast the next morning

By the time Remus cracked open his eyes the next morning, Patton was already up, hair damp and bouncy from a shower, fully dressed with his bed made. “Damn, Patton,” he groaned, pushing back his weighted blanket and stretching. “It’s college, not boot camp.”

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed, high pitched and brittle, and looked down at his feet with a little shrug.

Fuck. Remus dragged a hand through his hair. You’re trying to not freak him out, remember?

“Guess I just got in the habit, y’know?” Patton continued, filling the silence. “Be a good role model for my campers. Oh!” He looked up, eyes wide, feet shuffling back. “I—I didn’t wake you, did I? I can—”

“Nah, man,” Remus yawned and swung his legs over to one side of the bed. “You’re good, really. Honestly, I’m impressed.”

Patton eyed him like he was waiting for a punchline so Remus just smiled and draped the blanket over his own bed, ‘making’ it. More than he would usually bother, at least. “Hey, you hungry? Dining hall’s probably open.” He looked down at his own bare chest and laughed. “I should probably throw something on first but, then we can go together?”

He scratched his shoulder, waiting for the surprise splashed over Patton’s face to morph into some kind of answer. He’d meant for the invitation to sound confident and casual but it came out… not.

“You really want—” His jaw snapped shut and he stood as tall as his cute little 5’7” frame would let him. “Sure.” He smiled after a moment, nodding. “Yeah, um, take your time and we’ll go whenever you’re ready.”

Remus was already headed to the closet and grabbing the first tank top his hand closed on. He tugged it down over his head, pulled on his jeans from yesterday then swung around, buckling the belt. “Tada!”

It earned him an almost-laugh. Patton’s eyes sparkled, and his lips twitched into a bright pink smile. “You really meant ‘throw something on.’”

“Yep.” He let his ‘p’ pop as he stuffed his morning meds and his ID in his jeans pocket, then shoved his feet into his boots. “After you?” he asked and opened the door.

The dining hall was quiet and nearly empty when they arrived, the silence marred only by a faint murmured conversation in the far corner and the clangs and beeping timers coming from the kitchen. He shuddered, the racket reminding him of his old job at McDonald’s.

Including the two of them, there were only five students in the entire dining hall. Apparently most of the campus had not arrived fresh from summer camp with an ingrained habit of early rising. Go figure.

“I’m gonna hit the—” The word ‘lavatory’ came to mind and he shook his head. He’d definitely spent way too much time around Logan. “The can,” he finally said, jerking his thumb toward the restroom doors. “Wanna grab us a table before they’re all gone?”

“Um…” Patton scanned the mostly empty room before nodding. “Sure.”

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning and walking backwards toward the restrooms. “I’ll bring you a coffee!”

Patton’s mouth opened but then snapped shut again before he nodded again, scanned his ID and picked up a tray.

As soon as he was out of sight, Remus backed open the swinging door and slid into the bathroom. After using the toilet he washed up and ran wet hands through his hair, wrangling his curls into something of a style. Finally, hand cupped with water from the tap, he took three tiny yellow pills, then splashed cold water over his face. Stubble pricked his palms and he frowned. He needed a shave. Patton’s face already looked baby smooth again.

Remus chuckled. Patton really did have his whole morning thing down to a science. His stomach clenched, hunger or his meds. Or maybe just remembering Patton’s face last night. Fuck, Ro could be so blind. Had been since before high school. How he couldn’t see what was right in front of him all those years. Fucking dumba—

The restroom door swung open and a guy Remus vaguely recognized from move-in day sauntered in and gave him that weird head nod greeting. Apparently forgetting Remus could see him in the mirror, the guy’s gaze lingered on his ass as he passed. Remus grinned. That’s okay, Ro. Patton’ll find somebody who’ll appreciate him here. Plenty of pickings.

After smoothing down his mustache one more time and shoving two pieces of cinnamon gum in his mouth, Remus nodded at his own reflection. Plenty of pickings. He maybe even had some closer than he knew.

Once Remus had left, Patton collected his food quickly and sat at a large table far from the noise of the kitchen and alongside the windows facing the path from Ro—and Logan’s— dorm. He told himself he hoped to catch them before they sat somewhere else, or to save them from having to take one of the tables closer to the hisses and alarms in the kitchen as the dining hall slowly filled.

In a moment of honesty, though, Patton admitted to himself he was a little afraid Ro and Logan might accidentally-on-purpose not notice him when they did finally arrive. Ro was a devoted friend and he would likely be an even more devoted boyfriend. The Logan Patton remembered from school had been confident, even a little arrogant. This Logan was crushed and Ro’s tender heart felt responsible. Patton couldn't blame him if Logan pulled his attention away from anything—anyone—else.

Patton’s phone was heavy in his pocket. The only thing stopping him from double—okay, triple-texting Ro—and telling him he’d saved a seat for them at his table was last night’s Really Obviously Muscular And Nice 👑 has turned off notifications message and Patton's unread good morning text.

He took his time sprinkling pepper and salt on his eggs before taking tiny, slow bites. After a few long minutes, he spotted them in the distance, hands locked together and walking close. Patton couldn’t help but smile at Ro’s familiar stride, his excited movements, waving his arm about as he talked. Patton watched as Ro curled his other arm around Logan’s waist and pointed out the late summer blooms still clinging to the pine trees, then the bulletin board outside the dining hall, already plastered with student club announcements.

He waited for them to get closer, then rose from his chair, waving both arms when Logan seemed to notice him through the glass. Warmth filled his chest when Ro followed Logan’s gaze and waved back.

This was going to be okay. It was all going to be okay.

”Good morning, you two!” Patton grinned when Ro set down his tray and gave him a little half hug before taking the empty seat next to Logan.

“Have you been here long?” Ro asked, frowning as he looked around the still mostly-empty dining hall. “Alone?” he added before pursing his lips like he had more to say.

Patton shrugged. “Not alone, Remus is here, just…”

“Couldn’t get away?” Roman frowned again and cut into his omelet. “You know, if you need me to have another talk with him about boundaries, I will.”

Logan was quiet, watching them talk.

“I—I don’t…” Patton shook his head and smiled. “Thank you, Ro, but I don’t think it will be necessary.”

“Pat, you don’t have to try to protect him.” Ro leaned closer, searching his eyes. “He’s my brother. Trust me, I know what he can be like.”

Patton poked at his breakfast. Remus hadn’t been that bad. He’d even… Patton bit back a smile, remembering when Remus had tried to help Patton with his personal items, eyes closed and fumbling with the dresser and a stack of boxer shorts. Was he wrong to think it’d been kinda funny? “He’s been okay,” he said at last, nodding. “Really.”

Ro opened his mouth but before he could continue his argument, Logan nudged his plate closer to him. “What do you think of your omelet?” he said pointedly, holding his gaze. “You should try it while it’s still warm.”

”Okay, okay,” Ro said, laughing. “I can take a hint.”

“Purportedly,” Logan said not-quite under his breath and Patton tried to hide his laugh behind a napkin.

Logan met Roman's pretend glare with his own before sipping his coffee. ”I must admit I was wrong to believe the stories of college dorm food. The offerings here appear fresh and reasonably healthy-” He cringed at the loud and protracted swooshing sound of canned whipped cream. “With some exceptions, of course.”

Roman laughed, “You should see what ten year olds do when get to put whatever they want on their pancakes. Remember my tenth birthday party?” he grinned at Patton across the table.

”That was one time!” Patton laughed. “And, for the record, ice cream on pancakes isn’t bad until it starts to melt.”

“That’s when it looks like a horror show,” Roman said, mostly to Logan.

Contemplating his own eggs, Logan hummed and took a bite. “There is an element of body horror in many of the foods we consume each morning.”

“Now you’re sounding like my brother,” Ro laughed.

Eyebrow raised, Logan turned to Ro. He nearly smiled. “Indeed.”

Ro laughed again and kissed his cheek before he looked at Patton. “Okay, since Lo brought up the body horror," he flashed Logan a smile when he sighed and made a 'go ahead' motion with his other hand. "I still don't understand how you ended up rooming with Remus.” He reached across the table and gave his hand a little squeeze. “Pat, you can tell us for real… how is it going? It’s not too late to get another room change, you know. Your parents could call the Housing Office if the RAs won’t listen to you.”

Ro's hand was warm but he let go entirely too quickly. “I…" Patton shook his head. "I… I don’t need to… An—and—and besides, Remus is fine. He’s been…” Aside from increasingly inappropriate—and ridiculous—guesses about what he’d brought in his little blue bag, Remus didn’t once try to find out what was actually inside while he’d helped him unpack. He hadn’t even touched it.

“He’s been great, actually.” Patton tried not to sound so surprised. “You know, he’s really—”

“Hey, these guys bothering you?” Remus suddenly said from behind him, setting down a tray heavy with two mugs, a pile of fruit, oatmeal and yogurt. A plate of toasted bagels and jellies teetered on top and Remus set that in the middle of their table before sitting next to him. “Don’t want Ro getting hangry on us, do we?” he winked at his brother who scowled back.

“Your company is a pleasure, as always, Re,” Ro murmured, his raised eyebrow and pursed lips saying just how much he meant it. “When we found dear Patton here dining alone we assumed you’d abandoned him for some tryst in the hallway.”

Remus threw his head back, laughing. “Nah, you woulda heard me. ‘I’m quite the screamer.’”

Logan looked up from his coffee, eyes narrowed. “Doctor Who reference?“ Remus nodded at him, his smile two shades brighter. “Fantastic,” he murmured and took another sip.

“Don’t encourage him,” Ro whispered.

“I told you he said he’d come back,” Patton said but Ro just rolled his eyes and shifted his chair a little closer to Logan.

“I sure did.” Remus took one of the steaming mugs and set it next to Patton's plate along with a little handful of creamers and sugar packets. “You like it light and sweet, right?”

“I do, but when did…” He wracked his brain, trying to remember when he might’ve told Remus how he took his coffee. He’d only started drinking it senior year and only at— “Oh, the sleepover!” he grinned up at Ro. “We stayed up all night after Homecoming.”

“That is most unhealthy,” Logan said, frowning lightly at Ro.

“Do not worry, mi amor,” Ro soothed, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulders before jerking his chin up at Patton. “I didn’t stay up all night, he did.”

Patton shrugged and he hoped no-one else noticed the heat crawling up his face. “I’d never had coffee before. That first cup was…” The memory of the bitter coat on his tongue made his nose scrunch and he shook his head. “It was not good.”

“It’s better with a little something in it,” Remus laughed, plunking two creamers into his own cup.

“It was,” Patton said, nodding with a little laugh. “So much better I had three cups. Don’t worry—” he said when Logan’s eyes widened. “I drink a lot less now.”

“Hm.” Logan’s grunt seemed to end the subject but he eyed the three of them like he half-expected one of them to guzzle an entire pot. Roman leaned close and whispered something in his ear. Whatever he said seemed to mollify him and when a flush grew over Ro's face at Logan's too-quiet-to-hear response, Patton returned his attention to his own coffee.

Remus coughed, loudly, and the couple stopped whispering. Logan cleared his throat and took another bite of his breakfast while Ro snagged one of the bagels Remus had brought. “Your tattoo appears to be healing adequately,” Logan remarked, eyebrows raised over the top of his glasses. “Perhaps your experience with your first tattoo impressed upon you the importance of proper aftercare?”

“Oh, you know I never skimp on aftercare.” Remus chuckled, some inside joke pulling a half-laugh from Logan. Ro got the joke but didn’t like it, glaring at his brother for a long moment before spearing a bit of omelet. Still grinning, Remus turned to Patton. “Yeah, it hurt like a bitch. I didn’t use the lotion they gave me and… whew,” he whistled. “That was too much even for me.” He craned his neck to and looked at the edge of his shoulder. The rainbow-hued jellyfish peeking out from around his tank top already a lot less red than it had been yesterday afternoon. “It's looking better already and hurts a fuckton less.”

“Remus…" Guilt fluttered in Patton’s belly and he looked more closely at the sore skin around Remus' new tattoo. He hadn’t thought the redness meant it hurt, just— "Is that why you slept with your shirt off?”

“Re!” Leaning across the table and glaring at his brother, Ro sounded outraged. “You paraded around in the nude in front of my friend? You promised me you’d—”

“Excuse you, I paraded around my roommate!” Remus shot Patton a quizzical look before his glare returned and he stared down his brother. “And no, I wasn’t nude.”

The image of Remus hurrying to get dressed that morning, squid-decorated boxers dancing with his movement, came unbidden to Patton’s mind and he dumped another sugar into his coffee and stirred.

“Fine,” Ro snapped, pointing to his own eyes and then at Remus before sitting back, arms crossed over his chest. Logan stroked his arm until he relaxed, smiling back at him with a soft blush.

“Anywhoo…” Remus bumped Patton’s shoulder and grinned when he looked up. His smile was wild as usual, practically vibrating with energy. Remus’ eyes, though, were serious and met his for a long moment, searching for something. He seemed to find whatever he was looking for because his smile softened and he nodded before giving him a little wink and addressing the table. “I’ve been thinking about the design for my next tattoo. Maybe a little something in a more… personal place?” He waggled his eyebrows, watching Ro and Logan’s expressions, clearly waiting for one of them to take the bait.

Patton bit back an inappropriate laugh and tried to hide his smile behind his coffee. Remus wasn’t suggesting what it sounded like, was he?

“You know…” He shimmied his shoulders. “Something a little glans-dular?”

Logan’s fork dropped to his plate and he sighed. “Roman, please share with your brother the inadvisability of tattooing one’s genitals.”

“Aw, come on…” Remus whined like he was pleading for a puppy from strict parents. “You don’t think I should get a little happy face tattooed on my happy place?”

“No!” Ro and Logan said in unison. Turning to look at him, Remus waggled his eyebrows and winked.

Patton lowered his eyes, face hot. He caught sight of the sausage links on his plate and the charred bit at one end suddenly made his stomach turn. “Um, Remus, you can have these if you want.”

“Mmm, while I’d never say no to a bite of your—” he started to laugh then stopped when the table shuddered. Patton caught movement underneath and spied Ro’s heel pressed into his brother’s boot.

He flashed Ro a grateful smile.

“Remus does not consume meat,” Logan said. He ignored the brothers’ partially hidden wrestling and instead spread raspberry jam on one of the bagels Remus had brought.

“You’re a vegetarian?” Patton blurted out before he could stop himself, mouth agape as he stared at Remus.

“Well, yeah,” Remus said, shrugging. Was he… blushing?

He took a closer look at the food Remus had brought to the table. The bagels… An apple and an orange, a big bowl of yogurt sprinkled with nuts and little black chia seeds, coffee—well, coffees , he’d made good on his promise to bring him a coffee, too.

Patton frowned. How had he never noticed before? Remus had come along a few times when he and Ro had gone for pizza or chinese or whatever but Patton couldn’t remember noticing whether or not he ate what they did. He couldn’t actually remember noticing much of what Remus did, aside from his dirty jokes or his loud music. Or his bullying of the bullies.

“Guess I read Charlotte’s Web a few too many times as a kid, huh?”

Patton looked up and Remus was watching him with unexpectedly soft expression, an almost shy smile replacing his earlier smirk. He’d twisted a napkin around his finger, wrapping and unwrapping it as he waited for Patton to say something.

“I dunno…” Patton’s frown shifted into a matching smile and this time he shrugged. “Maybe you read it just the right number of times.”

#Roomies #sanders sides #intruality #sasi #sasi au #ts patton #ts remus #remus sanders #patton sanders #intrualityweek2024 #college au #Roman is mentioned #ts roman #ts logan #roman sanders #logan sanders

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zehglitch · 1 year ago

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The Fallen Angel

Ezephr's backstory

— 3

Content Warnings: Human experimentation, child experimentation, kidnapping, violence, toying with people, mentions of death, abuse/starvation, mentions of children killing each other, dehumanization, bullying, some harsh language

Chapter 3 — A Strong Girl

Today, he’d made his final decision. X1 was far too valuable to risk losing so early on…he needed to implement one of their tests prior to any contests. He was fairly interested in seeing what would happen to it inside of a growing body, but his main motive was preserving the subject. If he got to have a show from doing so, that was just a bonus. He had begun preparations early on, taking any children that managed to survive in the pit so he could perfect the project, test the limits of it. At this point, they had an abundance of important data.

Currently, he’d sent one of the cloaked to retrieve the angel, allowing him to sit back in the office chair and scan over the data. There couldn't be any mistakes in this experiment--none. He wouldn't allow his precious, rare chance to slip away from him so easily. Not now. Finding anything even close to the results he desired this early on in their project was exceedingly uncommon, to the point of never actually happening. He had his doubts, yes, but he’d also never had an angel before. This could very well open new opportunities for them.

He would like to get another one, but they lived in massive groups referred to as flocks. Each and every one of them was a threat on their own, but in their swarms you might as well accept your inevitable death. The only creature with no base element that developed any sort of unlisted magic you could dream of. He wasn't certain what led to them always varying in their power, seeing as inheritance had no affect, but had no way of confirming the cause. To him, that was detestable, but unavoidable. Not much he could do about it.

The doctor smirked. Well, until now anyway. He had an angel in his grasp for the first, and possibly last, time. It was exhilarating. Throwing about the possibilities in his mind for now, he spun the chair and pushed it over to the line of chemicals, double checking the process they were going through. The liquid was still coming out black, despite the many efforts made to keep it the same hue as blood. He hummed, moving on with a shrug. Oh well, that didn't change the quality. Color wasn't quite as important as the function. He looked at a bubbling tank. The implant was ready.

He heard the telltale sign of the laboratory door sliding open with a hiss, bringing him to swivel the chair and face who entered. Perfect, they brought the angel. Maintaining a faux smile, he calmly stated, “Ah, welcome, X1.” He crossed his legs, setting a hand on his knee while the other gestured around the room. “I’m glad you could get here unharmed.” He caught the barely suppressed flinch from his words and nearly lost himself. Mind on the matter, doctor. “Please, lay down over here.” He waved to a silver table.

His cloaked man set the wary child down before moving to block the door, arms crossed behind their back. Exactly as instructed. The doctor watched how the boy looked around the room, wondering what he thought of the items he'd never seen before. Patience…he could pick the boy’s brain as much as he desired later. What caught him off guard, however, was the defiant, closed fisted stance X1 took while staring daggers at him. “Why? Father, what do you want from me after abandoning us?” That was fairly surprising.

He felt both the outrage of his subject questioning him, and the absolute delight over the tenacity shown from a frightened five year old. Gorgeous. He tilted his head. “Whatever do you mean? I never abandoned you, I am simply waiting. Now, lay on the table and I will answer all your questions.” X1 clearly didn’t want to listen, but the doctor watched with satisfaction as the child gave in and approached the table. He didn't approve of someone simple minded, but he did enjoy someone who resisted, but still bent to his will in the end.

Once the angel was situated, having done so slowly and cautiously, the doctor rolled his chair over and offered the boy a smile. He was met with vague disdain. “Stay still, alright? This won't hurt a bit.” He hit the switch and watched with glee as the metal bars came up to restrain him. They snapped down quickly and almost painfully tight, preventing any form of real resistance without causing pain. Of course, the boy panicked…that wasn’t the best response he could've gotten, but it was expected. That's why the doctor frowned.

It was a tad disappointing to have the angel react how any child would, though he’d give credit for the unnatural silence. He turned away from the struggling child, only for his attention to be brought back when the boy spoke up. “You said you’d answer my questions. All of them.” The doctor gave the angel a cursory glance before waving for the boy to ask. “...why did you move us? What sound was mother making when you did?” He seemed to hesitate, as if he needed to think his questions through. “Why am I in here?”

The doctor turned only to retrieve the vial of anesthetic, filling his syringe. “You were moved simply for turning five years old. You had to relocate for the new batch of children and for your graduation. Your mother…I assume she must’ve been growling. It’s a nasty habit of critters, you see.” He tested the function of the syringe and went back over to the boy. “As for your being here…it’s simple, really. You’re better than the rest and I’m giving you my personal care.” To the point he planned to do this operation himself rather than delegate it.

X1 had such a fascinating expression over this information, but in the end he looked the doctor in the eye. Interesting…the subjects usually avoided that. “If…I let you do whatever, will you keep X4 safe and teach me more?” The man blinked in surprise, then gave a soft laugh while shaking his head. That was simply absurd. The boy had such a serious, yet hopeful expression, but he had no clue. The fool. He’d do whatever he liked to this boy…although it could be worth offering a reward. The doctor decided to make note of what had been asked for.

He clicked his tongue. “Ridiculous. As if you had a choice in the matter.” He swiftly injected the anesthetic in the boy’s pinned arm, then reached up and tapped the bar that was over his neck. “You’re just a useful product I’m improving. Don’t be mistaken. Perhaps if you win in the pit, I’ll consider your requests.” He watched the child fade away, patiently waiting for the medicine to take hold. When it had, he undid the restraints and removed the clothes, pulling the container holding the organ closer. “You certainly don’t need all these organs…”

☾︎☀︎︎☽︎

It…wasn’t that surprising they were being treated this way. From the beginning, trust didn’t exist in that strange home of theirs. Not for her. X4 readjusted, waiting patiently for her brother to come back and trying her best to not look around this place. It was full of screams, crying, begging…and not from her cellmates. She knew her change was bothering X1, but how could she explain the dark shape following him around ever since he got hit for their food. For her food. Why couldn't she just bring herself to move and get it without his help?

Guilt was eating away at her more and more as time passed in this cage. She let him heal her, but she failed to protect him. Instead, he used his body as her shield while she did what? Nothing. Nothing at all, except stare at the floor to avoid what she saw present in this cage. X1 was her brother, why couldn't she help him like she used to anymore? When he was taken away from her, she didn't even try to grab for him and…she saw the way his face twisted and tears formed in his eyes. But the worst part was his following resignation.

Did she…do something wrong? X4 chanced looking around their shared cage, trying to understand the situation. She was alone with that girl…and the others, but that girl was the scariest. Reaching up to fuss with her dirty, tangled pink hair, she attempted to distract herself. Would she get to eat with him gone? Probably not. She shook her head, then hurriedly avoided their eyes when that drew their attention. No, please just stay away and continue ignoring the quiet girl. She wasn't going to cause any trouble, they didn’t need to watch her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to block out the world as the voices flooded her mind again. No, please be quiet! Her hands went over her ears to block it out, but that never seemed to help. With a very soft whimper, she pushed herself further into the corner and wished she was hidden. She never asked to be able to see these things, to hear them…they were scary and loud and violent. X4 suppressed her shaking as best she could while biting her lip. She wanted X1 back, finding all her thoughts focusing on that gentle, kind boy. Yeah. She depended on him far too much.

☾︎☀︎︎☽︎

She finds herself woken up by a heavy force slamming into her shoulder. Dully, she hears someone shouting at her as well, but…she had a hard time focusing after coming out of sleep. The scary things were all screaming and cackling and making a raucous loud enough to disorient her. Then a dark foot came hurtling towards her face. With a gasp, X4 shoved herself away, sitting up and scrambling back from the attack. Her heart beat wildly, abandoning the thought of the stones digging into her skin in order to dodge another strike.

Focusing on her surroundings, it took her a considerable moment to distinguish between her cellmate and the strange, creepy things she could always see. What? Her cellmate was attacking her? She was never attack liked this before--oh. X1 wasn't here this time. In a hurry, she shoved her tired body off the ground and moved away from the older girl. Why was she being attacked anyway? The thought briefly occurred to her that she’d slept and X1 was still gone--where was she? Rather than allow her time to wake up, a new attack aimed for her and landed right in the gut.

Can't breathe. She clutched her stomach weakly, looking up at the angry girl and just staring at her. What did she want? X4, with a part of herself returning, managed to stand up and stare the hostile girl in the eyes, of course, she couldn't speak at all, but she wasn't backing down anyway. The girl sneered at her. “What? Just because that dumbass protects you, you think you're safe?” She waved around the cage. “He’s not here.” Her claws jabbed at X4 when she roughly poked the young elf. “And I’m tired of your smug face in my corner.”

X4 just continued to stare, but unlike X1 she couldn't hide the wince when a claw pierced her skin. However…she stepped forward, causing the claw to go in deeper. She wore a glare of her own as she rode through the burn. Faintly, she was aware of something cool streaming down her face, but she didn’t stop. All of this ended when the older girl slapped her, the force throwing her back to the floor. There was momentary silence in their cage, all of them taking in the situation. X4 was much smaller than the other girl, so it hadn’t been interesting in the slightest at first.

Now, they were curious. The older girl growled quietly at the elf. “You…are you just copying that crazy bastard now? I’m calling your bluff, right now.” She gave no time between her threat and swiping at the younger child with her claws fully poised for the attack. X4 bit her lip painfully hard when those claws ripped through her skin and clothes, then tried to kick her attacker. She stepped on her legs, stopping that effort before it hardly began. Her blue eyes, lacking a pupil from her race, stared at the other girl with contempt.

Of course, her attacker wasn't stopping, but the room suddenly exploded to life around the two. X4’s eyes were glowing as she shoved at the girl, shocking herself when an unknown force sent her flying. The elf sat there stunned, watching the creepy and scary things she’d always seen…protecting her. Her gaze darted to her cellmates, finding the angry girl already standing, but not approaching, just staring. Could none of them see this? She didn't stand, dully aware of a horrible ache in her legs from being stepped on, but she scooted away from everyone.

Momentary silence, then the girl shouted, “I’m the strongest here, you can’t do that to me!” X4 had never understood why all the older kids in the cages were obsessed with being stronger than everyone else. Still, that didn't change the fact that she was now being charged. With a nervous sound, she threw her hands out in the hope of defending herself…and watched as the scary things rushed for the girl. A gasp escaped her, seeing that girl being slammed against the bars of the cage. X4 blinked, catching sight of the name on her neck. Y12.

Her long, dark purple hair had always hidden her name and she never answered if asked about it. X4 studied Y12 for a long time, hoping she was okay but too scared to go over and check. If she did, she’d get hurt, right? And if she didn’t get hurt, then Y12 was hurt a lot more than she thought. She really hoped not. That would be really, really bad. X4 didn’t want to hurt her…well, she didn't, the scary things did. The elf looked at the creepy beings, stiffening when she caught them all staring directly at her, as if waiting for something.

She shuddered, a cold chill trailing down her spine. Before she could dwell on it, Y12 groaned and pushed herself up. As if she’d never been knocked down, her dangerous red eyes boring a hole through the child. Everything about her behavior screamed danger, causing X4 to roughly shove herself against the wall. There was an immediate response from the creatures around her, all of them swarming to be in front of her. There was a breeze inside the cage from their movement, and Y12 was studying it closely.

In the end, the girl clicked her tongue and turned away, storming back to the single bed available. “This ain’t worth it. You’re a breakable freak just like that other one.” She whirled around though. “But I control this space. You got that?” X4 didn’t supply a response, merely shrinking into herself and earning a scoff from the older girl. She watched the other lay on the bed, then hugged herself. Did this…mean she was safe? Was she going to be hit more later? Did she get hurt too? X4 squeezed her legs tightly. She didn’t like hurting people.

In the end, she was back to wishing her brother was here for her. Whether she did it or not, she felt like those things had hurt that girl because of her. She was the only one who could see them, after all. Where was he? Was he coming back? If he didn’t come back…she didn’t know what she’d do. She glanced at her other two siblings, catching them staring at her. Weakly, she offered them a smile, the same one she gave all her siblings back home. They both pouted, their bottom lips poking out and their eyes getting teary.

She shook her head slowly, knowing they might get hit if they came over to her. And yet…despite the bad situation, she was happy to see that they were still who she remembered. X2 and X3 were both so kind…whatever the others had been doing, they looked so scared. She wasn’t fully aware of what all had gone on in the very beginning. She could recall zoning out or covering her ears and eyes when the others would scream, but she also knew X1 had always been right in front of her throughout all of that. She wished he would’ve helped them too.

X4 turned away from them, wincing as the movement both brought pain and the sound of quiet whines from her siblings. She touched where it hurt, grimacing at the sharp feedback it earned. When she raised her hand, it was covered in blood. That…probably wasn’t good. Remembering something their mother had taught them, she ripped off the already torn part of her clothes and tried to wrap around the area. Turns out, getting fabric from clothes was really hard if there wasn't already a tear. Having learned that, she used the rip to get more when needed.

Every motion hurt, but she made an effort to get herself patched up. X1 could heal her when he comes back…she held onto that thought desperately. He will come back. She can do this badly and he’ll help her. He’s not gone. She tried to keep her mind off how two people would leave, and only one came back. That wouldn't be him. Her brother was strong…he was kind, but he wouldn't leave her. He told her so. She pulled the fabric tight and winced, but didn’t stop. Mother had told them it had to be tight. While finishing it up and barely maintaining conscious, she wondered again where her little brother went to, and…when he’d come back to her.

—

Masterpost

Backstory Master

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Next Chapter (not written yet)

—

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#my writing #glitch writing #my characters #oc ezephr #villain #villain oc #voidshire #angel oc #oc writing #bookblr #oc x4 #book characters #book community #angst #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #elf oc #fantasy #fantasy writing

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medusapelagia · 1 year ago

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26 AU-gust: Lighthouse - Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3, Part 4

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: Monsters, mermaid torture, blood and violence, mention of mermaid amputation, unconventional mermaid AU WC: 3472

This time he wakes up in a white room with a big tank.

Inside the tank, Eddie is looking at him with his big eyes with no lids.

“Are you ok?” he asks, getting closer.

Ok. The boy replies with his vibrations.

“I thought… I thought they were going to kill you.”

Eddie shakes his head.

Steve gets up and gets closer to the tank. It looks like a big aquarium, there are some fake plants on the ground and even what looks like a little pirate treasure.

It’s the first time that Steve can see Eddie properly in his true form.

His eel’s tale is drawing little waves on the sand while it moves. It’s dark green with some yellow dots. His eyes look even bigger in the water, always a little bit too far on the side, and even if they have no lids they seem sad, and his skin it’s not white, as he thought, but a pale green.

Eddie’s webbed hand touches the glass between the two of them and Steve puts his hand on Eddie’s.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispers, lowering his eyes.

Eddie doesn’t reply, he keeps looking at him with his sad eyes and then he suddenly goes hiding behind a rock.

Steve sees the reflection of Dr. Brenner and other doctors who are getting into the room and he turns abruptly.

“What do you want? Let him go!” he growls, trying to shield the creature from their vision.

One of the doctors says something that he can’t hear, and the room turns black and they turn on a little projector, then the woman takes a transparent page and starts to write and on the wall appear some words in a tidy calligraphy.

‘How are you feeling, Steve?’

He looks at them surprised. No one is speaking anymore.

“What the fuck does it mean?” he asks, looking at the woman, then at the projection.

‘It’s just an easy way to communicate. You are deaf.’

She erases the phrase and writes ‘We have questions.’

“And I don’t want to answer!” he yells.

The doctors look at each other and they say something he can’t hear, what he hears is Eddie screaming Nooo! while he swims toward the glass, hitting it with a loud thump.

Someone drags Steve away from the room and he finds himself in an interrogation room; he has never been in one of those but he recognizes one when he sees it and it doesn’t take a genius to understand what they are up for.

The first hit caught him by surprise, and Steve bites his tongue while his head turns.

He spits the blood, feeling his cheek throb.

They keep hitting him for a long time, while they keep questioning him.

How does he know the creature?

What is their connection?

Where is his den?

How do they communicate?

Has he ever seen him transform?

How does he do it?

But Steve doesn’t answer any of these questions, he just keeps singing a stupid song he listened to on the radio that got stuck in his head.

When they bring him back to the room he is almost unconscious, every part of his body hurts and he is quite sure that he is not the prettiest boy ever.

He sees some movements in the tank but he is too tired.

When he closes his eyes he dreams.

***

He dreams of a huge crack in the ocean floor.

He dreams of hot lava and monsters.

He dreams of sirens and an old man.

He dreams about swimming in the ocean without any fear.

He swims down, and down, everything is blue around him and he can’t see the ocean floor but he knows that he has to keep diving, so he does.

The water is blue and the lower he goes the colder it becomes, but he keeps swimming, even when the light becomes less and less, even when it's so dark that the only thing he can see is the red glow behind the rocks.

And then.

Lights.

Noises.

Humans.

A submersible, Steve’s mind provides.

They are working around the crack on the ocean floor.

They will close it.

Humans are clever.

But not these humans.

There is a little siren that is resting next to the glowing light.

She seems tired, maybe injured.

The submersible catches her and when it moves away for a moment the light of the submersible catches a glimpse of him.

He starts to swim toward the surface, but the submersible is faster.

Faster. And bigger.

He makes a sharp turn to the right, then to the left, there is a place that he avoids but now it could be useful. He swims until he finds refuge behind some rocks.

The long arms of the submersible try to catch him, but he knows that humans can’t stay too long under the water.

He waits.

The submergible leaves.

And then he feels a sharp pain in his tail.

***

Steve wakes up with a startle.

His face is still swollen and he can’t open his right eye, but he is definitely back to the white room.

Eddie is looking at him, his eyes big with worry.

“Are you ok?” he asks, and the creature nods.

Steve looks at Eddie’s tale, sees the pale scar, and suddenly realizes that the dream he had wasn’t his.

It was Eddie’s.

There is a a fucking huge crack in the ocean floor and Brenner and his group are kidnapping sirens.

Sirens that should only be a myth.

Sirens that rest near the crack.

Why?

Steve sits on the bed, his head hurts and he feels dizzy, so he tries to stay still for a moment while he is processing everything that he has learned.

There is a crack under the ocean.

Eddie knows it.

Brenner knows it.

The sirens know it.

But Eddie wants it to be closed. Why? Is he scared of the molten lava or what?

The bright light makes Steve whimper, while he covers his eyes with his arm.

The doctors are still there, and the questions are the same, but he doesn’t answer, so they inject him with something.

All at once, Steve’s mind starts to wander.

Everything seems so funny.

The doctors.

The questions.

Even the creature in the tank.

Eddie is staring at him.

But maybe he is doing something more than staring.

He feels it.

It’s not like the siren song, it’s not a song that is dragging him toward the peril. It’s a soft song that keeps him safe.

His mouth talks but he doesn’t know what it is saying.

His ears keep buzzing while his mind gets calmer and calmer by the moment.

When finally the doctors leave Steve feels tired and worn out.

What the hell has happened?

Eddie is still looking at him from behind his rocks.

Those yellow eyes seems more malicious than he remembered.

***

The answers that he has given to the doctors must have been the good ones, because the next time they drag him away from the white room they take him to a laboratory.

Dr. Brenner shows him his research, pointing at some peculiar discoveries that they have made on the ocean floors.

He never speaks of the crack in the floor, but Steve knows that he is referring to that.

He nods, taking mental note of every piece of information they are providing, and tries to show an enthusiasm that he doesn’t feel.

Brenner smiles, satisfied, and takes him to a bigger area that seems like a warehouse.

It’s cold inside, and the light is very dim, but when Brenner turns on the light Steve sees tens of sirens, mermaids, and any kind of hybrids between humans and fish, swimming in the tanks.

Some are missing a limb, and a couple are swimming upside down, but there is one with a big black tail that looks absolutely furious.

He gets closer to the first tank. He is deaf, they can't enchant him, but what about the doctors?

He looks at the little siren. She seems the one he saw in his dream. Well, in Eddie’s dream.

And she has a scar around his neck.

Oh. They cut her vocal cords. That’s why they are not scared.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispers to the little siren who looks at him offended and tries to shriek, failing miserably.

The doctor asks him if they are not beautiful.

They are.

Marvelous.

Every single one of them.

And so sad and depressed.

They don’t belong to a tank.

They belong to the sea.

“What do you notice?” the doctor asks, looking at Steve with amusement.

What does he notice? He gets closer to the tanks.

They are all injured. They had their vocal cords cut. And…

“They are all females.”

“I knew you were special, Steve.” the man praised him “All these hybrids are female. Every single one. There are no males. Apart from one.”

Eddie.

“What do you want from him?”

“From him? Nothing. I just want him to impregnate the other hybrids. See if we can create more males.”

“Why?”

“For scientific purposes, Steve. Everything we do, we do it for science!” the doctor replies but Steve doesn’t trust him. He is in the Navy and has seen some documents that come from the Navy. The Navy doesn’t do research for scientific purposes.

“If you could help us with your friend it would help the entire humanity. Think about that: being able to change form might be the way to beat cancer. Your friend's cells can transform from a tail into a pair of legs. How amazing is that?”

Steve shakes his head.

He will not help them do whatever they want.

Brenner doesn’t seem really pleased with him when they bring him back to the white room.

Eddie is still staring at him, but he doesn't try to communicate this time.

***

Steve keeps dreaming.

About the ocean.

About the sirens.

About Dr. Brenner.

His dreams are a confused mix between his memories and Eddie’s, and the more they stay in the same room the more their consciousness seems to merge.

Steve thinks that he learns something new about Eddie every night, and so does he, and he is proven right when Eddie starts to stare at the long scar that he has on his left wrist.

A long time has passed, but he still remembers the anguish and the despair that brought him to the extreme gesture.

Someone brings them food, fish for Eddie, and a toast for Steve.

Not too bad to be honest. Maybe a little bit too dry.

He takes another bite, and he feels something in his mouth.

Eddie looks at him, confused.

Steve coughs, hiding from the camera, and takes the little piece of paper that reads: tonight.

He stares at Eddie and Eddie stares back at him.

There is no point in showing him the piece of paper, he can’t read, so he swallows it, with Eddie’s eyes still fixed on him.

***

Steve.

Steve!

He opens his eyes. A red light comes from under the door and Eddie is staring at him from his tank.

Fire. Eddie says in his language with no words.

Steve turns toward the door and sees some smoke.

Shit!

“Can you transform?” he asks Eddie, but the creature looks at the camera with hate.

“You are going to die if you stay in that stupid tank! You will boil like an egg!” he yells, but Eddie is still not convinced.

Something, or someone, starts to hit their door and finally, the hinges give up and two figures with protective suits get inside.

The bigger one shoots at the camera, while the smaller one removes his helmet.

It’s a blond guy with blue eyes.

The boy stares at Steve, then gives him another protective suit, and then points at the tank.

Eddie glares at them, while Steve tries to convince him to transform and escape with him.

The bigger man takes off his helmet too and Eddie gets closer to the glass.

“Hey, little monster. Time to go.”

They help him out of the tank and into one of the protective suits.

The facility is in complete chaos.

The blond guy is dragging Steve toward the exit but, as soon as he sees the door of the laboratory Steve stops. They can’t leave the creature there, but they can’t take them away either.

Eddie and Steve share a look.

Can’t help. Eddie says, and Steve knows that he is right. He knows it but…

He hears a song.

Which is not possible because he is deaf.

He turns toward the laboratory door.

The song comes from there and it’s not a scary song.

It’s a love song.

Eddie stops too, putting his hands on the door.

It’s Eddie’s song.

The blond boy tries to drag Steve away but he is adamant that he will not go.

They break down the door and when they finally enter and look around all the tanks are empty.

All but one.

The one with the beautiful siren with the dark tail.

She has the same scars as the others but…

You came.

And it’s the same kind of sound that Eddie produces when he speaks.

You came.

She repeats, but she is not looking at Steve.

She is looking at Eddie.

I have been waiting for you for so long… baby.

And then the siren sings a song with no vocal cords.

Something old and full of magic.

Full of memories and secrets.

It’s a story. Her story.

The air starts to get too hot, and the two men in suits yell something and then start to drag them away, while the siren keep singing her song. But the farther they get the angrier the song becomes.

It starts to affect the people in the facility, who turn one against the other.

Scissors become weapons, and while they run away the corridor becomes red with blood.

The siren is still singing.

A song of vengeance.

***

Outside of the facility, there is a little boat waiting for them and many many sirens, as if someone, or something, summoned them.

They are angry and they demand blood.

Their song is terrible and the two men start to get affected, but on the boat, there is a young boy who beckons them and Steve follows the group. He has three pairs of big earmuffs and with Steve’s help, they put them on the other two and finally escape from the facility.

While their boat sails, the facility explodes in a lightning of angry red. Red as the portal that Steve saw in Eddie’s dream.

The boys are talking so loudly that Eddie is covering his ears but Steve doesn’t know what they are talking about. When they finally get to a little island the blond guy takes a little scrap of paper, points at himself, and writes “Billy.”

“Steve.” he replies, still unsure about why they saved them from Dr. Brenner, feeling really cautious.

The question is: why did they do it? And how did they know where to find them?

The second question has a simple answer when they get inside the little port hidden between the rocks revealing a big control room with many employees and a little woman who is clearly in charge.

Eddie gets closer to Steve and takes his hand, worried. Steve holds his hand and feels the skin under his finger becoming drier, he knows that Eddie needs water but he also knows that he will not transform in front of other people.

As if she could read their mind, the little woman who welcomed them escorts them to a secluded area.

She points at the little laguna and then she leaves.

It’s better than the tank but it’s not the ocean.

“I can help you go back to the ocean.” Steve says, and Eddie stares at him before lowering his eyes.

No. He says, and then

“Who was she?” Steve asks, even if he thinks that he knows the answer.

Mom.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” he whispers, while Eddie gets in the water, swimming to the bottom before transforming back into his mermaid form.

“Your friend is special.” That’s what Brenner had told him and Steve had thought that he was referring to his ability to mutate, but what if was wrong?

What if Brenner was telling him something more?

A loud bum makes him jump scared and surprised.

Eddie looks at him confused.

“I heard that. I fucking heard that!” he yells far too loudly.

When a doctor visits him again, he tells him that his ears are healing. He caused a lot of damage to his own ears but luckily they didn’t get infected and now they are healing. Because a perforated eardrum can heal, and he was the only one not knowing that.

The doctor explains to him that it is going to take long and that he could be experiencing some hearing loss, but his ears will indeed heal.

Knowing that, everyone starts to speak slower and louder around him and he is very glad for that, but what makes Steve worry it’s Eddie.

He keeps swimming in the faked laguna, hiding behind the rock, and eating his food only when he is alone.

He seems to not trust anyone, not even Steve, and that makes him sad.

***

With his hearing getting better Steve starts to move around the military base.

It took him a little to notice but it’s clear that they are in one of the secret military bases that the navy has around the world.

The little woman, Joyce, seems to be the one in charge, while the big man, Hopper, seems to be her second in command.

One night he finds the man smoking just outside the base and sits with him.

“He still hates me, uh?”

“Who?”

“The mermaid.”

“He has a name!” Steve retorts and Hopper looks at him confused.

“What?!”

“His name it’s Eddie.”

Hopper snorts “So you two have bonded, uh?”

Did they?

He named him, which seems a very personal thing, but now they are not close. Or at least Eddie is pushing him away.

“He is a sweet guy. I remember when he was just a little fish. I could hold him in my hand, you know?” the man tells him, breathing circles of smoke in the air “I thought Brenner was right. That we would be able to beat cancer. And so many other diseases.” he takes another puff “I had a kid, you know. A little girl. Her name was Sarah.” Hopper looks far away, lost in some memories “She was sick. Really sick. And Brenner kept telling me that if we could have managed to understand the anatomy of the hybrids we would have found a cure for my kid. And I trusted him. It was stupid, I know, but I was desperate! And when he managed to impregnate that female. God, I was more anxious than when my wife got pregnant. I kept visiting her, looking at the little eggs that she protected fiercely.” he stubs his cigarette out and turns toward Steve “Only that little fish survived. And he was so precious to us. You will not believe how excited we were the first time he transformed into a kid. God. I really thought that it was the proof that we needed, that he would have healed my kid.” he gets up “I was wrong, obviously. My kid died and the little hybrid disappeared with an old man.”

“Wayne?” Steve asks.

“Wayne.” Hopper confirms “Well. George, before he changed his name.”

Steve thinks back to the day he found the picture in the drawer. Eddie kissed the picture with affection before putting it back.

“And why are you here now? What do you want to do with him?”

“They are not creatures of our world, Steve. They come from a sort of parallel dimension and some portals connect our two dimensions. The majority of the hybrids stay close to the portals, trying to get back to their home. They don’t want to stay here and we don’t want them here. But sometimes these portals open and they fall in our dimension.” They start to walk back to the base “We are exploiting the soil, the air, the sea. They don’t have enough food, especially if they want to stay close to the portals, so they have changed their diet.” he explains and Steve knows exactly what he means: humans.

“And what about you, what are you trying to do?”

“Ideally? Bring all those monsters back to where they came from.”

“And in reality?”

“Close the fucking portals.”

#monsters #lighthouse #mermaid au #mermaid Eddie Munson #tumblr fic #myfanfic #steddie #au gust 2023 #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #writing challenge #medusapelagia

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captain039 · 2 years ago

Text

PART 3 He’s down on his knees

Jared Padalecki x reader

Warnings: sexual, smut, oral, light swearing, age gap, praise kink, dom/sub, bondage, public sex, talks about sex/kinks, first times, self-esteem issues, body issues, chubby reader Just real dirty unless I put feelings into it xD

Just a random movie I’ll make up for this.

I also live for a gay best friend makeup artist

If my future man ain’t obsessed with me I don’t want him xD

Last part <-

The acting was strange from then on. You avoided Jared like the plague, grew flustered anytime you were around him, forgot all your lines in moments, and acted like a young fan girl. Jared either didn’t notice or gave you space, in your dark times you’d figure he’d gotten over you, realised you weren’t worth it, or you were just the fat funny friend everyone looked over.

It’s been a month since your make-out session and your depression seriously kicked you. You were crying at night debating whether to message him or not. Go visit him down the hotel hall, but you just ran, like you always did. Something that was too good to be true probably was.

You groaned when your alarm woke you, you felt like you drank ten litres of vodka or something. You smacked your phone a little too hard and your alarm stopped. You grumbled into the pillow before sliding out of bed and heading to the shower. A knock came though and you groaned again trudging to the door as you fake cry.

“Yes?” You opened the door a mess.

“Uh hey,” you froze hearing Jared’s voice and looking at him.

“Oh-“ you fixed yourself up, especially your tank top that was barely keeping the girls in.

“I’m so sorry” you muttered hiding behind the door and adjusting yourself. You heard him chuckle lightly and cursed yourself. You straightened out your hair the best you could, ignoring the literal bird's nest on the back. You appeared back and gave a brief smile.

“You ok?” He asked smiling slightly.

“Hah!” You said way too loudly and flushed.

“I mean yes” you cleared your throat awkwardly. Geez, this was the worst.

“I can come back” he offered and you nodded.

“Yes, that’d be great” your stomach dropped.

“Alright, I’ll uh, see you later” he chuckled waving goodbye.

“Ok,” you said waving goodbye before closing the door. You groaned and banged your head gently against the door. You had a shower, wondered if you could jump out the window and live then disappear to Africa or somewhere far. You got dressed and had a shake for breakfast before dreading going to see Jared. You had to face him eventually, you’d just tell him the truth and he’d tell you the truth and all will be peachy.

You knocked on his room door and he smiled as he opened it up.

“You look awake now” he chuckled and you nodded as he let you inside.

“Yeah I’m sorry about that- I would’ve um-” you gulped slightly clutching your phone.

“Hey, it's ok” he chuckled.

“I know you're not a morning person I should've come later” he shrugged hands in his pockets.

“Yeah” you muttered dreading the conversation.

“Hey I'm sorry I've been avoiding you,” you said quietly looking at the ground.

“It's ok,” he said rather softly.

“It's not” you muttered.

“Listen I know what happened, it was an amazing, one-time thing I get that, totally fine with me” you gulped glancing at his face. He was frowning confused.

“I'm not someone you know guys hook up with or get into relationships with so I totally understand not coming back” he still didn't speak and your heart pounded.

“Yeah cool, ok, so we good?” you chuckled nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Excuse me?” he muttered and you froze.

“Oh, not good then? Look I'm sorry about everything, I shouldn't have said anything-” you babbled a bit before lips crashed into yours.

“Shut up” he muttered and you nodded quickly as he kissed you roughly. You moaned softly surprised by the noise yourself as Jared's hands gripped your side. Jared backed you into the couch and you sat down before he laid you down and climbed on top of you. Jared groaned softly hands slipping under your shirt and running over your sides. He wasn't gentle like he had pent-up anger or something bursting. You stopped his hands and he lifted his head as you finally got a chance to breathe. A look of guilt flashed on his face as he say up and sat down, head in hand. You frowned slightly wondering what you did wrong, you just needed a breather.

“Sorry” he muttered voice cracking.

“What are you sorry for?” you asked confused as you sat up too.

“Being intense” he scoffed.

“You avoiding me for so long after what happened, I've got a lot of pent-up frustration” he muttered looking to the ground in shame.

“I knew you'd need space so I gave you it, and then you came here saying that, I kind of snapped” he admitted eyes still avoiding yours.

“I'm not used to normal pace” he chuckled dryly. You didn't know what to say, the amount of romance and fanfiction you read was not anything like this, the real emotions going through you.

“When you said prove it, I expected something irrational” he added sighing and shaking his head as he stood. He stretched, hands on the back of his head, shirt lifting. You cursed the dirty thoughts and stood too. You touched his side and he frowned looking at you as you moved to stand in front of him. You rested one hand on his chest and struggled to keep your heart in your chest. He was all muscle, strange from only knowing your body this whole time. You wanted to feel the skin on skin, feel the warmth through his shirt. You hesitated as one hand held the hem of his shirt. He just watched you with hawk eyes, intently staring, wondering. You shook your head slightly having an inward battle before you slipped your hand under his shirt. He was warm, overly warm now, he shuddered slightly, stomach tightening as your hand travelled up his abdomen. He moved and you stilled as he shrugged off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. Your other hand rested on his chest over his heart. It was pounding much like yours, a quick bah-bump under your hand. It was funny feeling the hair there, sure you had hair but not like this, more like fine blonde hair. You came back from your little daydream though and panicked a little. What the hell were you doing?

“I'm so-” before you could speak Jared kissed you softly, hand going over yours that was over his heart. He held it there while his other hand cupped your neck. You sighed gently into the kiss, this was a better speed, you weren't struggling to breathe. Jared pulled back, leaning his head against yours, body slightly hunched over.

“See what you do to me” he chuckled softly and you grew even more flustered and nodded.

Next part ->

#jared padalecki x reader #jared paladecki #supernatural #x reader

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84reedsy · 10 months ago

Text

The Mentorship, Part 11

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 11 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 5810

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

When another morning came, she was surprised to still feel an aching between her legs. She didn’t hate the feeling, but she remembered what Curt had said last night. She wondered if the soreness would give way if she would just let him do what he wanted.

She snuck out of bed and into the shower, relishing the hot water. She felt a little torn now. She felt as if some part of her owed sexual favors for all he’d done for her though such a thing had never been insinuated by Curt. But she wanted Scott; she wanted him in a way that made her feel guilty for considering doing anything with another man.

She was still attracted to Curt, but Scott was beginning to flood her mind.

Brinkley was dressed when she left the bathroom, walking into the room to a rousing Curt, who rubbed his head as if it ached.

“Good morning,” She chirped, trying not to sound too chipper, but clearly in a much better mood than Curt.

“Mmphf,” was his gruff answer, “Not so far…”

“Well it's early, it could get a lot better!” she stayed positive, trying to get him moving.

“I don’t think so,” He groaned again, “not today,”

Brinkley walked over to him and sat on the bed. She reached out feeling his forehead, noticing he looked pale. He was definitely warm. This might not be the brown-bottle-flu after all. She wasn’t sure what the protocol was on the road if someone was ill.

“I think you might actually be sick,” She slid her hand from his forehead to his cheek, “Do I need to see about getting the room for another day?”

“Fuck no,” he said, “We have to get on the road. Doesn’t matter if we’re sick or not,”

“You can’t work if you’re sick,” She argued.

“Honey, there’s no such thing as calling in sick on the road,” He sat up, chuckling at her concern, “I’ll live,”

“Well, you need to rest. I’m driving today.” She snatched the keys from the table before he could.

“I don’t need no kid taking care of me,” He scoffed, but fell back to the bed as his head throbbed.

“Kid?!” She slapped his arm, “I may not be an old vet like you, but I’m not a kid,”

“I know, Jesus, you know what I meant,” He groaned as he sat back up. He dressed slowly as Brinkley loaded the car. She made him lay in the backseat as Scott walked up.

“Damn, you look cute,” Scott looked her up and down, his sunglasses hiding the knowing glint in his eye. Brinkley looked over herself, just in shorts and a tank top.

“Thanks,” She still couldn’t help but eat up his attention, “By the way, you’re at my mercy today,” she said jingling the keys, “Hennig is sick,”

“At your mercy, huh? I think I could handle that,” he looked her up and down again as he threw his bag in the trunk, “Sick? What the fuck happened to you, Curt?”

“No fucking idea,” He was irritated by their banter already.

“He’s got a fever,” Brinkley said, looking back over the seat as she slid into the driver’s side, “But he still has to wrestle?” She did feel some real concern for him.

“Yeah, unless you are completely incapacitated, you better just suck it up,” Scott slid in as well, wishing that he’d driven instead; he could think of things she could do to pass the time.

“That's not fair,” Brinkley frowned, but knew full well professional wrestling was about the most unfair industry that she knew.

Curt stayed in the car while Scott and Brinkley went into the gym. She tried to keep things as normal as possible, but everyone could see that they were definitely closer than before. The sideways glances, the knowing smirks, the murmured comments all made the rest whisper among themselves.

Brinkley waited in the car while the rest went to the tanning salon, bringing Curt water and checking on him. She sat in the back, his head laying in her lap after his initial protests had failed. He was secretly glad they did. Her lap was soft and the way she dragged her fingernails through his hair relaxed him.

He still felt like shit. In his mind he was trying to think of what he could possibly take to get through the match. He didn't dare bring that up with Brinkley. She was still shielded from that side, though she knew it existed.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Brinkley asked, feeling as if she could do more.

“What you're doing now is helping more than you know,” he crossed his arms over his chest as he caught a chill from the gentle tickle of her nails, “Thank you,”

“You don't have to thank me, I'm always here for you as a friend at the very least. Maybe I could fight your match for you,” she teased.

Curt smiled, his eyes still closed, “You'd do that for me?” He imagined her against Kevin in the ring. She'd be like a little chihuahua biting at a Rottweiler's ankles.

“Of course, I owe everything to you,” she felt his forehead again, it felt slightly cooler, but still feverish.

“That's probably a dangerous thing to say to someone,” Curt looked up at her, “but you're not wrong,”

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

Curt snuck away long enough to acquire something pharmaceutically strong enough to get him through the next two hours. He convinced Brinkley he was just feeling better. She was suspicious, but didn't pressure him for more details. She was disappointed for a moment that she wouldn't get more ring time.

Tonight, she stared Kevin down every time he even looked in her direction. He didn't back down from it, daring her to get in the ring. She did, improvising by breaking up a cover attempt by yanking on his hair hard enough that he ended up on his back. She knew she was going to earn a receipt, but now was as good a time as any to get her first.

Kevin raised his eyebrows as he stalked her in the ring. He grabbed her by the hair, his long reach benefited him. She found herself again with her head between his legs, but Curt wasn't there to interfere. She was lifted and spun up. She remembered to tuck her head, but the flat bump on the mat was not soft as he flung her down with force.

Her breath was nearly knocked from her lungs, but she lay flat and unmoving to sell it. Curt received one as well, taking the cover. She was sure he didn't hit the mat as nearly as hard as she did.

She let Curt drag her out of the ring and throw her over his shoulder on the way backstage. Kevin waited for her, his hands on his hips looking her over.

“There’s a ring gym in Cedar Rapids, we can work out something for TV there” he offered, “Good bump,” he followed up before turning into their locker room.

“Damn, looks like everyone wants you these days,” Curt joked, but wasn't thrilled with the idea of Kevin training her alone. He had to assume Scott would be there though, and that's who he trusted the most.

“The fact that he doesn't want to murder me is a marked improvement”.

Her eyes went immediately to Scott as they entered the locker room. He was in his ring gear which she appreciated now more than ever. She hoped she'd get more ring time with him - she found the idea of working a match with him incredibly erotic.

“I think I'm gonna go watch his match from the curtain,” Brinkley moved to follow him out.

“Girl you need to get all your shit together,” Curt warned, not wanting to stick around any longer than possible.

“I don't have much, it's pretty much already done!” She fibbed a little, slipping out of the door.

“Don't tell me…” Kevin said as she left.

“Scott say something to you?” Curt knew better than to substantiate rumors.

“Are you kidding, haven't heard hardly anything from him in the last three days. Hell, last night got back from the bar and he's out cold. Stone cold sober, too. I've had questions…but he ain't told me shit,” Kevin shrugged, but shook his head.

“Well that's not like him,” Curt agreed.

“So I gotta assume it's something with Brink,” he jutted his thumb in her general direction.

“I think that's the first time you've ever called her by her actual name,” Curt realized, “Don't tell me you're going soft…”

Kevin scoffed, but laughed after.

“Shut up, Hennig,” he said, unlacing his boots.

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

“I have GOT to go shopping sometime soon,” Brinkley mumbled in the hotel room, trying to figure out something to wear that she hadn’t already thrown on a thousand times this trip. At this moment, she despised how easily the guys got away with wearing the same thing. A few tshirts, jeans, shorts, on a cycle and no one batted an eye.

“Want me to drop you off at the mall,” Curt teased, lounging back on the bed as he watched her.

“No,” She huffed at him, “Just…just need something to wear out or whatever,” She dug through her bag as if there were some clothes she may have missed, knowing there weren’t. She grabbed the only thing slightly dressy, a dark floral sundress and dressed in the bathroom.

“‘Cause you wanna look hot for Scott, right?” He smirked at the way she tried not to fidget at the sound of his name when she emerged, the dress almost too flattering.

“I just want something NEW,” She argued without denying his assumption, “And I really want to get another ring outfit,” She couldn’t help but whine, stomping her foot even.

“Brinkley, come here,” Curt beckoned her by curling a finger. She crawled onto the bed kneeling at his side, “Nope, all the way,” He patted his lap. Brinkley looked unsure at first, but did swing her leg over him, straddling his waist, “Much better.”

“You know…” his hands rubbed slowly up and down her thighs, barely under the hem of the skirt, “Nobody here gives a shit what you wear, we all know you’re hot,” He tried not to picture what outfits he might want her to wear.

“The girls do,” She countered, knowing the other women in the organization would definitely notice, “I have room in my bag,” she picked at the buttons of his shirt, trying to keep her pout minimal.

“I’ll buy you a new ring outfit,” He grumbled, “I know someone we can call something into and figure out a way to get it shipped on the road,”

“Really?” She perked up a little, squirming. He looked down to his lap and back up at her. She bit her lip as she went back to sitting still, “That would be awesome! I want something purple this time. And more sparkly. And maybe some ORANGE!” She had ideas rushing to her head now that translated into spirited movements, “Thank you,”

“Speaking of thanking me,” His hands squeezed her thighs a little, “I think I recall someone last night issuing me a rain check,”

“But you’re sick,” she reminded him,”Even though somehow you were magically all better at the show…” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m not that sick and I do feel better…” He ignored her accusational tone as his hands slid up farther and gripped her hips, “Be a good time to give this old man a good ride,”

Brinkley couldn’t deny that there was a rush of arousal that made her sex twinge, but there was an uncomfortable nag in the back of her mind that she couldn’t quite place.

“I’m not…you’re not buying it for me because we’re having sex…right?” She wanted to clarify because she knew things could get misconstrued very quickly.

“Fuck no!” Curt was almost offended at her question, but calmed his tone when she seemed to pull back from his harsh response, “No, not at all…just because you’ve earned it. You’ve worked really hard out here on the road and put up with all of us veterans and our bullshit better than most.”

“I don't want you to feel obligated to buy me things…that's all. I get paid to do this job, too. Might not be as much as you, but you paid for the rooms, the car…I already feel like a freeloader,” she counted off the examples.

“You're not a freeloader,” Curt bit back telling her she'd earned her keep; that would negate his insistence that she was trading sex for favors from him, “Maybe we should stop, if that's how it makes you feel,”

“It doesn't make me feel like that…” she mumbled, only being partially truthful, “Maybe, sometimes…”

Curt couldn’t ignore that part of him felt crushed and extremely guilty for making her feel that way. Perhaps moving her to other trainers and putting some distance between them was for the best.

“I don't want you to feel like that. Ever.” He slipped his hands over hers, “That's my fault baby girl,” he chuckled a little, “Guess I need to find you a new nickname,”

“What? No! I like it when you call me that…” she protested, wiggling on him a bit. He hummed a little as she pressed against his lap.

“Might not be very professional - I'll try to come up with a new one,” he bit his lip, looking where her legs splayed over him.

“Do….do you think it really would make you feel better?” She was working herself up sitting on him like this. She couldn't ignore the hump she was sitting on stiffening.

“Brinkley…we probably shouldn’t,” he had to force the words from his mouth. She nodded and slipped off of him. It took all he had not to grab her and pull her back on top of him.

A knock at the door only added insult to injury when Scott stood on the other side. Brinkley's bright, wide smile didn't help.

“How ya feeling, Curt?” He walked in, “ you look better than this afternoon,”

“Yeah, don't think I'm going to be going out though,” he could tell by the way she was looking at Scott that she'd be wherever he went that night.

“Mind if I borrow this one to keep the boys in line,” Scott winked at her.

“Up to her,” Curt said rather than saying what he really wanted to.

“Where are we going?” She excitedly asked Scott.

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

“Shhhh baby, or we're gonna have an audience,” Scott grunted, holding his hand over her mouth as she moaned. He had her pinned against the brick wall outside of the bar, plowing her roughly.

There was only so much of her ‘fuck me’ eyes he could take throughout the night without some kind of response. He'd drug her out the back door and into the alley. He was glad she'd worn such a short dress.

Brinkley had only his large frame to hold on to, her thighs hugging his waist tightly, her hands gripped into his shoulders. The bricks were digging into her back as she was fucked against them.

He was not gentle, ramming his raging hard cock deep into her cunt. He didn't take his time either, his punishing pace clearly too much for her. Without his hand smothering her cries of pleasure, they'd definitely be found.

The straps of the dress fell down her arms and the front fell away from her breasts, only adding to Scott's fevered arousal. He dropped his hand from her mouth to palm her tits roughly.

Brinkley could hardly ride out an entire orgasm without being tempted into another by his thrusts. She was grateful for his strength, she would have collapsed long ago without it.

She bit her lip, trying her best to keep quiet. She found it nearly impossible whe Scott's intense stare met her's. The pleasure she felt was so much more profound with the intimacy that came with holding each other's gaze.

“Dammit,” he growled, gritting his teeth, “I gotta cum in that pussy,”

She nodded quickly, begging him to do so.

“God, yes, please cum in me. I wanna feel you cum,” She whimpered almost as pitiful as she felt, completely at his disposal. She felt a heat flood her as he buried himself completely. He grunted loudly in time with his spasming cock.

She struggled to catch her breath as he leaned heavily into her body, out of breath himself. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tightly to keep from sliding down the rough wall.

“Scott, that was….that was…” she searched her blank mind for words that refused to come to her.

“I agree,” he chuckled airily, “Fuck, that was hot.” He held onto her legs, feeling them shaking a little. He lowered her slowly, making sure she was steady before letting go. He tucked himself away as she fixed the bodice of her dress and straightened the hem.

“HALL!” A booming voice came from the back door as it flew open,”Where the fuck did he go now?” Nash looked around until he spotted them near the corner of the building. They had only just made themselves decent, but still seemed to be suspiciously catching their breath. “Are you fucking kidding me??” Kevin looked at them with a knowing, judgmental glare.

“What?” Scott held up his hands, shrugging, “needed some fresh air,” he knew the excuse was lame and out of anyone, he wouldn't get anything past Kevin.

“Did you find him?” Steve popped out of the back now, followed by Rick and then Eddie, “What..what's going on out here?” He motioned between them, surprise on all of their faces.

Brinkley hoped the darkness hid her flushed face. She wanted to hide behind Scott at this point, wondering if anyone would believe any innocent excuse.

“Geez guys, like I'd be lucky enough to hit something this hot. She was light headed, needed some air.” Scott rolled his eyes, playing off the lie well. He knew that he wouldn't be completely believed, but they would be less likely to question him.

“I thought I was gonna get sick,” she admitted sheepishly. She could feel his cum soaking into her panties and though she felt like a fraud, they seemed to back off at her untruthful admission, “but I feel better now,”

“Well let's tie another one on then,” Eddie motioned for them all to go back into the bar.

She followed Scott in, only followed by Kevin.

“I bet you do feel better,” Kevin smirked as she looked over her shoulder at him, “that's pretty much the same thing every other broad he's nailed has said,”

“We weren't doing anything,” she reiterated, turning away from him.

“Sure, sure,” Kevin answered sarcastically, “Might want to make up an excuse for why your back is all scratched up then…”

Kevin’s comment made her self-conscious as she tried to keep her back to everyone. Thankfully, the bar was dimly lit. She tried to drink away her discomfort, forgetting that someone they’d need to get back from the bar was supposed to be her..

Scott was too far gone to drive and she was in no shape to drive either. She knew that Curt would be upset if they left the car at the bar, but had little other choice. Kevin offered to drive, the least inebriated of the crew. Brinkley essentially passed out as soon as she slipped into the backseat.

“A little young isn’t she?” Kevin said as they pulled away, knowing Scott too well to believe his excuse earlier.

“Man, she’s a good kid, you’re too hard on her.” Scott tried to take Kevin’s words incorrectly on purpose.

“I think you’re hard on her enough for both of us,” He scoffed, “You really think I can’t tell when you’re fucking someone and when you’re not?”

“It’s just been a couple times, not like we’re eloping,” Scott shook his head, knowing Kevin had had his fair share of road tail, too much to be judgemental about anyone else.

“But…I mean you know Curt’s tappin’ that too,” Kevin said as if it were common knowledge, “She probably jumped on his dick as soon as that mentorship started,” He surmised.

Scott felt a surprising anger surge as he bit back an impulsive response. He hadn’t thought it was that obvious, but he’d known about it since the tour started.

“He may not like you moving in on his territory,”

“He doesn’t own her,” Scott snipped a little, “She can do what she wants,” He shrugged, but knew he’d rather have her exclusively.

“Maybe I’ll take a run at it, I mean as long as she’s handing it out,” Kevin wanted to see what kind of reaction Scott would give him. He had a suspicion that Scott may have been a little smitten, when he should be in it only to get his rocks off.

“Dude, back off. She’s not like the rest of those whores,” Scott vaguely referred to the female talent that was more interested in notching their belt than winning one in the ring.

“You sure about that?” Kevin posed the question. He was only bringing it up to make sure Scott was thinking straight, but it was likely not going to work after a night at the bar.

“Back off,” Scott warned him once more. Kevin just sighed and shook his head.

Scott didn’t bother to see if Curt was still awake, carrying Brinkley into his and Kevin’s room and laying her in his bed. Kevin was not thrilled with the idea, but Scott wasn’t interested in his opinion on the matter.

“She’s sleeping, I’m exhausted. Just go to bed and forget about it,” Scott suggested, climbing into bed himself. He hoped he’d pass out soon to keep his hands from doing their own wandering.

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Scott woke first, feeling a little lethargic, but not terrible. He heard Kevin’s occasional snore and felt Brinkley against his side. She must have nestled up to him in the night. Her bare thigh lay over his and her skirt had bunched around her waist in the night. He probably couldn’t get up to get a condom without waking Kevin up. He cursed at that fact.

He wondered if he could wake her and sneak her to Curt’s room - he might have a better chance at letting her work out his morning wood.

Several sharp raps at the door stirred everyone, Scott cursed again as he rose to answer it.

Curt stood at the door, looking irritated as he immediately looked around Scott into the room, seeing a waking Brinkley.

“Jesus, at least let me know what’s going on when you leave,” Curt was relieved, but still upset over waking up in his room alone, wondering if she was ok.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes, “I think I passed out,”

“Well, it's not these guys' job to make sure you don’t fall down drunk, that’s my job. Let’s go,"he snapped.

Brinkley slid out of bed, embarrassed by being chastised by Curt in front of Scott and Kevin. She couldn’t bring herself to snip back at him now, but she would when they were alone. He couldn’t treat her like a child just because he was pissed off at her.

Scott didn’t like it either, Curt should know he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. But it didn’t seem like the time or the place to confront him about it. He would have his hands full of Kevin’s smug ‘I told you so’s’ this morning.

“You didn’t have to embarrass me like that,” She snidely remarked as Curt slammed the door behind him.

“Oh, I didn’t?” He stood with his hands on his hips, “I was just supposed to assume you weren’t in a gutter somewhere??”

“Good god, you knew I was with them,” She rolled her eyes, taking a handful of tylenol, “I know how to take care of myself,”

“The hell you do,” He seethed, “If you knew how many of those guys backstage would fuck you and not care if you wanted it or not, you’d never leave my side,”

“They do not,” She replied, but not sure if she believed herself.

“I’m not saying you can’t trust anybody…but you have to be more careful than most. It's not fair, but that’s what it is,” He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.

“But you knew I was with Scott,” She tried to reason.

“Yeah, but I don’t know if he really cares about you or if you are just an easy hole to fill,” He didn’t like the words as they left his mouth and he could see that they definitely struck her harshly. She looked away from him, crossing her arms across her chest protectively.

The silence that stretched between them was thick and he regretted his tone more by the second.

“I’m going to take a shower,” She replied, more meekly than she’d like, but her voice was shaky.

Curt cursed silently to himself, running his hand through his hair. He knew part of him was upset that he woke up feeling completely better and wanted to see if she would still be receptive like she almost had been the night before. She deserved to know he cared about her. She didn’t deserve to be slut-shamed for doing something he was mostly responsible for anyway.

He sat on the bed, leaning forward on his knees as the shower stopped. She opened the door, looking out as if hoping he’d left. He felt guilt gnaw at him again. What a mentor he was.

“Brinkley, can you come here for a minute,” He asked much more kindly than before. He could tell she was skeptical, but tightened the towel around her. He was relieved when she walked up to him, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that to you,” He reached out, taking her hand in both of his. He leaned his forehead against her knuckles, “I was worried, probably jealous, not thinking straight. That’s all on me, not you,”

Brinkley felt relief spread over her with each word. She did not like feeling as if she’d disappointed him. She craved his approval so much that anything to the contrary felt awful. But she also realized she couldn’t let him know that he could manipulate her so easily.

“Thank you,” She said, not pulling her hand away, “I know you care about me and I’m not saying you shouldn’t worry. But you can’t treat me like a china doll or some toddler. I might be young, but I’m an adult and if I make bad choices, I have to live with the consequences. I’ll never learn that if you keep trying to fix everything for me.”

Curt nodded, still looking at her hand.

“And yeah, I don’t know Scott like you do, and I’m young and dumb still, but I don’t think he’s just using me.” She wanted to believe her words, just hoping they were true, “But…if he is, then I’m going to have to deal with that,”

“I know. I know I have to back off, I just didn’t know it would be so hard,” He looked up at her, realizing that he’d been so cocky that he hadn’t reigned himself in like he should have, “I’m sorry,” he looked up at her with genuine sincerity.

Brinkley resisted crawling into his lap to make him feel better. That was exactly what he was talking about. They had blurred too many boundaries and it wasn’t going to do either of them any favors to keep blurring them.

Why did she want him so badly right now?

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At the ring in Cedar Rapids, Curt sat down with Brinkley as they sketched out her new outfit. They were able to scan and upload the sketch and email it to his contact. After a brief phone call, the details were solidified and Brinkley was extremely excited, only bummed that she'd have to wait at least another week and pick them up during the Florida leg of the tour. She was grateful Curt generously paid for it to be expedited.

She let Kevin’s remarks from the bar roll off her back as he and Scott worked with her in the ring. Curt remained a silent observer, though he had to bite his tongue multiple times. But he was relieved when Brinkley would fall back on what she learned from him.

“You're sandbagging him, girl,” Scott called out as she took repeated bumps from Kevin body slamming her.

“I know,” she said, laying on the mat out of breath, “Sorry, just tired,” she spun up though, ready to take another. She jumped better this time, making his lift effortless, but instead of slamming her down, he carried her across the ring. He handed her off to Scott, who laughed, flipping her so she was lounging in his arms instead, “Cute…” she narrowed her eyes at Kevin, “You really showed me,” she scoffed sarcastically.

Scott leaned into the side of her head, mumbling softly.

“Get ‘im, tiger,” he encouraged her smart mouth. He sat her on the top turnbuckle next, turning his back to her and leaning into her. She rested her arms on his shoulder.

“Gotta get through him if you wanna get to me,” she referred to Scott as her shield and he snarled In Kevin's direction.

“Jesus, get a room,” he rolled his eyes stepping over the top rope, “ 15 minutes, then we're back at it,”

“I can make 15 minutes work,” Scott leaned between her legs more.

“I'd rather you have as much time as you want,” she whispered back.

Curt tried not to look on too much, but to anyone it would be obvious that something was happening between Scott and Brinkley. He wished people backstage would let them be, but that was unlikely.

He had to admit, Brinkley might have been on to something about Scott’s interest being genuine.

After the break, Kevin brought in a local female wrestler about Brinkley's size. It was an adjustment working with someone not hulkingly larger than her. It felt different, it felt more real. The match was as basic as could be, but all three men complimented her afterwards as she thanked the other woman for sparring.

She couldn't stop smiling in the back of the car on the way to the venue, thinking about how somehow she managed to find people that would help her, even if they weren't necessarily her biggest fan.

Curt noticed her happiness in the rearview. He needed that to be his goal, he needed that reaction to make him feel like he'd done his job and it was working.

Tonight was another TV night and though she was nervous, Kevin still ribbed her about how long she wanted to make out that night. The more he did it, the more she was irritated by the joke, but the more she thought of a way to finally get him back.

She dragged Scott to a quiet place the first chance she had.

“Finally, I wanted to ask you a favor,” she whispered in the dark hallway, she looked around the corner to make sure they weren't followed.

“You read my mind,” Scott leaned down, holding her face as he kissed her with some urgency. She couldn't push him away, gasping with surprise, but letting her arms wrap around his neck. He was already dressed and partially oiled up. She oddly wondered how he’d taste if she blew him directly from a match, still sweaty and spent. She tried to shake the torrid thought from her mind.

“As much as I'd like to keep that going…I had another idea…if you think you're game,” she pulled away from him with regret.

“You look like you've got something pretty devious,” he noted the wicked gleam in her eyes, “What do you need?”

----------

The crowd was definitely reacting differently to her and Curt, booing Kevin as he walked in after them, accompanying Scott.

Curt and Scott locked up and Brinkley knew to keep Kevin in her periphery at all times. Even as she jumped up on the apron to distract the ref, she kept Kevin in sight. She interfered with Scott’s cover and he stomped Curt once more before stalking her. He grabbed her by the hair as she tried to free herself, wagging his finger at her. He encouraged Kevin to step up to the apron and dragged her over towards him.

“No, no, no!” She tried to pull away from Scott as she neared Kevin. But just as Kevin closed his eyes and stuck his lips out for an animated kiss, Brinkley grabbed Scott’s waist instead, pushing him into Kevin's waiting kiss. The men's lips touched and both reacted animatedly disgusted. The venue filled with laughs and cheers, Curt rolled a distracted Scott up for a three count.

He slid out, celebrating with Brinkley on the side as Kevin and Scott acted furious. Brinkley pointed and laughed, waving her fingers at Kevin as they backed up the ramp.

“That was pretty damn good,” Curt said into her ear while the crowd still cheered, “You come up with that on your own?”

She bit her lip and nodded, still giggling. She beamed as she could see the pride in Curt's face, “I got him so good,” she stuck her tongue out at Kevin from afar.

She owed Scott big for the assist. She couldn't say she hated the dark, angry look he was shooting back at her.

She made sure that someone was between her and the doorway when Kevin and Scott returned to the locker room. Everyone was watching one of the two as Brinkley paced and kept herself somewhere with an escape plan.

“I didn't think you had that in you, Brink,” Kevin said.

“Maybe I have a flair for theatrics after all?” She tried to keep a straight face, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

“You got me back, you embarrassed the opponent, you got a hell of a pop from the crowd…I'm pretty sure you just got yourself a spot in the next pay-per-view,” he counted off the points on his fingers, “and even better, you got Creative's attention. They are wanting to talk tonight,”

“This isn't one of those things where you try to get my guard down then jump me in the back is it?” She narrowed her eyes at him, but looked at Scott, too.

“I promise, this is on the level. Get dressed and let's go,” Scott affirmed. She hoped she could trust him, she was too excited not to.

#wrestling fan fic #wrestling fic #wrestling fanfiction #curt hennig #wcw #wwe #wrestling #fanfiction #pro wrestling #1999 #Scott hall #kevin nash #The Mentorship #wrestling smut #cameos by a lot of wrestlers

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