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celestialflamesme · 4 years ago

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| KARMA AND CRAZY MIDGETS | A Venai One-shot Modern AU | Fairy Tail Next Generation |

Ships: Raidyn Dreyar x Venetia Redfox

Dedicated to @primaverafrog @luna-chan00 @biorckstudios18 @animaration-fts @cxndy-stxrs (Lol, I can't believe that no-paragraph breaks worked😂 I fooled Tumblr, y'all!😎😆)

You'd think having a town overtaken by the mafia would make people more apprehensive, if anything. But if Magnolians were anything, they were huge (and he simply could not stress this enough) idiots.

Raidyn prided himself in not partaking in anything Fairy-esque which was more than what he could say about some of his colleagues (Yes, they named themselves Fairy 'Tail' of all things! How no one in this town even got the spelling right was beyond him....)

"Did you hear about Fullbuster and that Fernandez chick? They're together now!" Some red head he'd forgotten the name of (What! It was too late to ask her now!) stage-whispered.

"Who? Storm?"

The entire cafe burst into laughter. "Like Storm would even look at a girl that's not Nashi."

Point proven. They!! were!! on!! first!! name!! basis!! (He bet no one in this room even knew his last name, let alone first. Not that it mattered. He liked slinking in the shadows, although it was practically impossible with his snow-white hair)

Geez, did these people have no lives? They were talking about delinquents for Pete's sake! And ones that sure loved messing up the town in their infamous brawls. But did the people care? Nooooo.

Ugh, one more year and he'd be out of this whacked up place. Wiping a tabletop, he forced a smile on his face and pretended to be interested in the topic.

"Cass, I'll have a black and a burger with fries," a voice interrupted. A voice he was very familiar with.

Did he happen to mention that the most annoying one of them all had made this her hangout spot?

At 5'1, you'd think Venetia Redfox would be the least intimidating person ever. But with crimson red eyes and a Devil-may-care attitude that made up for it, no one dared mess with her. She also caused 75% of the fights in town and had a smirk straight out of a Wattpad Bad-boy fanfic.

Boy, did he hate her.

"You're gonna chip it off with that grip, Blondie."

Oh my god, she did not just-

Raidyn shot her a glare and strode to the back of the register, faintly registering a chuckle (Who the hell did she think she was?) before picking up another order.

Little Miss Redfox however sat at a corner table and continued doing whatever the hell she usually did every Tuesday and Friday for 3 hours in a row (he should know, he was there glaring at her at closing time).

But the kicker this time was, at that moment, her phone rang. You have never really seen your world end right before your eyes if you haven't seen a 5 foot psychotic looking delinquent decked in leather that drove in a motorcycle there by the way (How does one willingly ride on a metallic death-trap like that?!) mumble the words 'Cha cha real smooth' and pick up a call with the most deadpan look ever.

Raidyn almost cried. Almost.

"Are you kidding me? Do it yourself! I swear to God, you always do this shit, Dragneel!" She got up from her seat and walked out, just like she looooved doing smack dab in the middle of her classes back at Magnolia High.

Good riddance.

........

He jinxed it. Karma was such a bitch.

Though no sort of karmic revenge could explain the shit he had to go through that week.

First off, he had 4 assignments due in by the end of the week. And turns out that was the exact week his dear red-head colleague decided would the perfect time for a vacation (It's the middle of September, where in hell's name was she planning to go to?)

Guess who had double shifts now?

This clown.

Ugh. Talk about chivalry and all that loyalty shit.

And yes, of course his car had to break down, and the local bus had to change it's schedule, which left him with his last resort: walking 4 and a quarter miles to school (Oh, he found that out the hard way all right) to college. Nashi and the Fullbuster kid (He sure loved walking around shirtless a little too much) decided to brawl (again) and bam, his locker got caught in the crossfire.

In fact things were so overly shitty that he became skeptical come Thursday when the day seemed relatively normal.

"You've been scowling all week, Dreyar. Anything the matter?"

Raidyn snapped out of his reverie and groaned. "Dad, why not just call me by my name like any normal person would?"

"Because that doesn't build-"

"CHARACTER!! WE GET IT!" His mom, Mirajane mimicked with a scowl. "Well, we're just going to get two Happy meals and then we're off, honey!"

He faintly registered Hunter snickering in the background (How immature. Raidyn wasn't one to get embarrassed by his parents. Plus, none of it would ever compare to the Disco Fiasco of 2001. How else do you think he got his car? Sweet, sweet guilt-tripping....)

The day buzzed past but his suspicions only intensified tenfold. (Call him a pessimist, he didn't care) And like a bull in a China shop, a tiny midget Redfox (the one and only) strut in.

Now, he was behind the counter at that moment handling the red-head (he really ought to learn her name someday) so he didn't notice 5 feet of brute strength that climbed up behind him and dragged him (poor, unsuspecting him) into the supply closet.

Oh no, he was not kidding. The supply closet. Of all the places the perpetrator could've-

The lights flickered on and he screeched (What? Any human would!) at the red irises staring determinedly into his own non-red eyes. (Seriously, were those even real?) Raidyn wasn't scared of no judgement, what did scare him (maybe not that much, now that he knew who those belonged to) was Satan's minion and her RED AS FUCK EYES! LIKE SERIOUSLY-

Clearing his throat and trying to salvage some faux dignity after that dramatic display, he grunted, "Touch me one more time and you're-"

"Yeah, yeah I get it, big guy. Look, I need a favour."

Venetia Redfox crossed her arms and stood threateningly in front of the entrance.

Who was she kidding? "Nope," he muttered and swerved right around her and made his way to the counter. (Pipsqueak. She really should've seen that coming.)

And right as he turned right towards the display case, he found her leaning against it with her shoulder, looking bored. "Yes. And now."

How the- PPHIGXUTDUTZUT- HOW DID SHE JUST-

"Parkour." She deadpanned.

Raidyn gave Venetia a long, long look and sighed, striding towards her. Her smirk widened in anticipation as-

He picked her up like a sack of potatoes and tossed her over his shoulder.

"WHAT THE- THIS IS HARASSMENT!!"

"Technically, you cornered me first," he stated matter-of-factly and dropped her on her feet (she looked like a hissy kitten, hmm.) Then proceeding to close the doors at her, he picked up a poster of her (he kept posters of all of them for a day like this. Ah, foreboding luck. He could feel it.) and pinned it onto the front door.

BANNED: VENETIA REDFOX

(Was he even allowed to do that, you might ask, but bah, who cares? Rabid girls are a nationwide threat.)

.................

As he wrapped up and prepared to leave, Raidyn had a niggling feeling he forgot something very, very crucial. Uh-

A body collided onto his own and climbed (I kid you not) him (THE FUCK KIND OF ANIMALS DID MAGNOLIA OWN?) before a tiny, rough hand muffled him. Oh no.

"Yoph kiphing mmph!" Raidyn groaned.

"I need you to teach me how to solve a Rubix Cube."

What. Excuse Raidyn for not knowing, but was Rubix cube some mafia codeword for mafia stuff? Stealing a car, fighting goons, skipping classes or drug dealing? Raidyn Dreyar had a long jail-free life ahead of him, mind you.

BUT SERIOUSLY, SOLVE A RUBIX CUBE?! HOW FRICKING RANDOM WAS THAT?! WHO EVEN TOLD HER HE KNEW HOW TO SOLVE ONE? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THIS GODFORSAKEN TOWN?!!!

(Some might say he really had to stop reading those novels his mom bought. Some might be right. Whatever.)

Back to the topic on hand, he mumbled inaudibly. Her cropped hair tickled the sides of his face as she squinted at him, "What?"

Was she kidding right now? He pointed at her hand covering his mouth and her eyes widened as she let out a nervous laugh. (Geez, talk about stupid.)

He took in a deep breath and shook her off him. She stood there patiently (As patiently as a Redfox could, anyway.) as he straightened his shirt.

"First things first, NO!" And he stalked away.

He registered a groan from behind him and quickened his pace. However, the midget in question managed to propel herself at break-neck speeds and no joke, TACKLED him.

"PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-"

"GET OFF ME, YOU PSYCHOTIC-"

Karma was such a bitch.

Macao, the guard standing by the parking lot, huffed, "They don't pay me enough for this."

...............

The only reason he was doing this was because she offered to fix up his car. (How did she even know it wasn't starting?) Also because it had been a while since he brushed up on his Rubix skills. Also because he wanted to get rid of the midget before she followed him home. (He figured his mom and dad would ENJOY her presence and replace him with her. He had crazy parents.)

Everyday she'd make sure to meet him (mostly by cornering him in the hallways) and in exchange for these classes, she'd work on his car at the weekend.

The first time she came over to his house (to work on his car, but he didn't know that) was rather embarrassing because he kinda sorta thought she was a burglar and locked his garage, yelling at the top of his lungs. His dad, Laxus came out with a taser (Dad sure loved his tasers.) Of course, when he finally opened the garage doors, he was met with an unimpressed look from the Redfox in question. (God, he was such a drama queen.)

The midget had a lot of trouble twisting her hands at the beginning of her sessions and he loved teasing her about her 'butter fingers' every time she accidentally flung the cube across the room or out the window in one rare occasion.

You know, she was kind of fun to have around.

"And that's the algorithm! You're all done!" He cheered, glad to have this behind him.

"Geez, you don't have to sound that excited to get rid of me." Venetia teased.

"What? No....." He feigned innocence.

"D'aww, admit it, you enjoyed my company."

"Please, more like I was scared for my life." He mumbled. She snorted.

"Catch you later, alligator."

Did she just- "NO WAY, JOŚE!" (That was lame even for him. Gosh dang it, she was laughing at him....)

Fricking Redfox.

......................

That weekend, Raidyn thought he deserved a good ol' evening out with his friends/colleagues (technically it was the manager that suggested it and he tagged along for the heck of it. He wasn't much of a social person, per se.)

He guessed Karma was still on a streak when Venetia Redfox entered the very same place they'd chosen for karaoke night and sat herself on one of the tables in front of them. And proceeded to order nothing.

The raven-head didn't even have her notebook (that always made her look disarmingly tiny) or her phone. Oh well, she must've been waiting for someone.

As the hours passed, he found himself exceedingly irritated for no reason.

"Who in their right mind would stand up The Venetia Redfox?" His colleagues whispered (rather loudly, according to him) and she just tapped her fingers away, oblivious to it all.

Fine, whatever.

"Sup." He towered over her and greeted, moving to take a seat next to her.

She blinked at him.

Okay, you couldn't exactly judge him. She was a regular and tipped good and people were being annoying about her and oh, her tapping was distracting and he had a massive headache coming. That's all. Simple as that.

"Don't you have better shit to do?" Red irises stared at him impassively.

"What are you doing here by yourself?" He asked coolly.

"Well, Nashi was supposed to-"

"I'M HERE! I'M HERE! I'M-" Both tilted their heads just in time to see Nashi ram into the glass doors. The now groaning pinkette was sprawled on her butt in front of the entrance. "Fricking doors."

"That's her." Venetia deadpanned. Raidyn shook his head sympathetically.

"Heyo Ven! Heh, kinda lost track of time beating Frostbite at Mario Kart," her doe eyes scanned him. "Raidyn! I didn't know you guys were friends!" She grinned.

Raidyn gave her a two-finger salute in greeting.

Nashi's eyes suddenly widened in realisation. "YOU'RE TEACHING HER THE RUBIX?!"

"Uh..."

"Yup." Venetia smirked. "He's a great teach. His parents have taken me in as their own."

"WAIT! WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?! HOW WAS I NOT AWARE OF THIS?!"

"Just like that, Blondie. What can I say? It's the charm," She grinned at his bewildered face.

"You guys are all ready for the challenge then?" Nashi wiggled, now nervous, "Ven, I didn't mean to drag you into this, but Clint was-"

"It's cool, dumbass." Venetia shrugged. "Ain't your fault that they're dipshits."

At his confused look, Nashi clarified, "People like picking on us just because we're Fairies and held to the same standards as our parents. This frat dude decided he had to prove he was smarter than the Fairies and decided to pick a Rubix cube challenge of all things." She rolled her eyes. "Bet he taught he was real original thinking that one up."

"Bet he did." Storm scoffed. (Wait, what?)

"WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?"

"From- the front door?" Storm scratched his head in genuine confusion. (As if Raidyn was the weird one that sneaked up behind people like a stalker!)

Nashi facepalmed. "Why the heck are you here, Frostbite?"

"Just like that."

"Gosh, you're so annoying."

"Wanna say that to my face, Flamebrains?!" Storm yelled. (Oh, not again....)

"Guys, please don't...." Raidyn said, but both didn't seem to be paying attention to him.

"I SAID YOU'RE ANNOYING! FIGHT ME!" She threw a punch at him and before he knew it both were throwing napkin holders and vases at each other.

Venetia seemed to be enjoying the show, and pulled him to the back of the room, "This might take a while," she stated. "Wanna grab a milkshake?"

Well, he was kind of craving one. "Why not?"

..................

Today was the day of Venetia's challenge and Raidyn found himself nervous.

"You sure they won't wreck the place?" He grumbled for the umpteenth time.

Venetia groaned. "Do you have no faith in my abilities, Dreyar?"

"Nope. None whatsoever."

She raised an eyebrow, "Shame on you, then. I wouldn't let a good friend lose his job on my behalf. Dally ho, now!" She cheered.

He blinked at her, giving her a small reluctant smile. "Kick ass, Ven."

She tilted her head toward him and gave him a grin that knocked the breath out of him. "Thanks, Raidyn."

Shit. When did- when did she get so pretty?

"Look who we have here. You sure you're in the right place, Redfox?" A voice condescended. The owner of the voice was a grimy looking kid that looked like one of those middle-school spelling-bee losers that bragged about it whenever they met someone new.

"Clint." Venetia deadpanned.

Raidyn broke out into a fit of laughter, making 'Clint' (What kind of sad name was that?) glare at him. (Oh please, Little Clint was totally quaking in his boots! Why'd he even bother coming?)

"Let's begin then! Pick a shuffler." Clint drawled.

Venetia picked Nashi while Clint, after a moment of deliberation, picked one of his gang-mates (What did they call it? The Math club?)

"You may begin."

Both Nashi and the grimy dude shuffled for the better of 15 seconds. Clint just scoffed and clicked like a pretentious know-it-all, making comments like, "You're making it easier by shuffling harder, you know. Make it tougher for me, Nashi dear."

Raidyn had to give it to the pinkette, he would've smacked the teen by now.

"Okay," the referee, Storm cheered, (even though he looked like he was ready to kill Clint) "Timer starts, NOW!"

Both twisted and turned the cube furiously, Venetia sticking her tongue out in concentration while the teen twisted his arms like a man possessed.

"I'M DONE!" Venetia dropped the cube with a thud onto the table. "How's that for a Redfox?"

"E-excuse me? That's insane! It's only been," Clint checked the timer like the sore loser he was, "31 seconds!"

"Too bad," she smirked. (Well shit, that was hot...)

"I demand a rematch!"

Nashi moved to protest, but Venetia silenced her with a hand, "Whatever you say, kid..."

"This time, we swap cubes!" He whined like the little weasel he was.

3 minutes later, the rematch began and Venetia plopped her cube on the table with a glare.

"You think you're smart giving me a faulty cube, don't you?"

"And I'm done!" The weasel had the nerve to say. "I don't know what you're talking about Venetia, I used the same cube and it worked just fine. Maybe it was a stroke of luck on your part the first tim-"

He couldn't finish his tirade because Raidyn took that opportunity to check the cube (He didn't have to though, he believed Venetia enough to know she wouldn't make up excuses.) and yeeted it at his face like he'd been itching to do from the moment he saw the turd.

"YOU IDIOT! I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS-"

"GET HIM!"

"OH NO, YOU DON'T!" Nashi growled, "I'M ALL FIRED UP NOW!"

Oh dear.

Okay, maybe the fight wouldn't get too big, these were scrawny kids after a-

Yeah, Nashi Dragneel just flipped a table on them.

There goes his job.

"GO, NASHI!" His manager cheered. (Okay, thank God this town was crazy.) "Raidyn! You can take the day off, kid. Have fun!"

Storm chose that moment to enter after his momentary toilet-break. "I WAS GONE FOR 3 MINUTES, WOMAN! WHAT THE HELL?!"

"JOIN US, STRIPPER!"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!"

"YOU HEARD ME!"

Venetia, unbothered by the chaos behind her, pulled him by the arm, her eyebrows furrowed at him, "Well, I tried. But hey, looks like you still have your job. That's a win, right?" She scratched her neck, laughing.

He sighed, putting caution to the wind. This was Ven after all. "Ice-cream date? My treat for today's win."

A smile erupted on her face, "Only if we take my bike there."

.............

Bonus (That no one asked for):

"Okay, so you have to grip it right. Not too tight. Just enough to nudge it in the right direction." Venetia explained, from where she was seated in front of him on the death tra- bike.

Raidyn nervously laughed, "I've got this in the bag, I don't know what you're worried about." The tilt in his voice gave away his panic, however. She raised an eyebrow.

"Humor me then."

Okay.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

GO!!

"DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES, YOU IDIOT!!" Venetia screeched. She reached over and took over the handlebars just in time as they nearly crashed into a tree Raidyn was headed for.

He got off the bike and tripped, falling face-first on the ground. Fricking Jelly-legs. "I am never riding that death trap again." Raidyn groaned.

"What the heck?!" Venetia questioned, bewildered. "How'd you even get your driver's ed with such sucky basics?"

"IT'S A DEATH TRAP, THAT'S WHY!!"

"OF COURSE IT'S A DEATH TRAP IF YOU'RE NOT LOOKING WHERE YOU'RE GOING!!!!"

"Fight me Ven, I'm never getting on that thing again!"

"Too bad, I have to drop you back home too." The sneaky devil dared smirk at his plight.

Fricking Karma.

He wouldn't have it any other way, though.

.............

#raidyn dreyar #venetia redfox #shutora redfox #venai #gale #miraxus #fairy tail #ft next generation #venetia x raidyn #nashi dragneel x storm fullbuster #nashi dragneel #storm fullbuster #modern au #rubix cube #bad boy remake

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malecacidd · 4 years ago

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So... Do you have any fic recs? 👀👀👀

Um????? Vi?????? Yes absolutely?????? Ily????? Kfkzkdnsk 🥺🥺🥺 and aaaaaaa I'm sorry if you've read some of these but!!! Here are some recs 🥺🥺 aaaaa

Chaptered Fics

So I'm splitting this into categories between chaptered and one shots because I can. Also if I know the person has a Tumblr I'll be tagging them too kfkskfks

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Turn Your Back on Mother Nature by @siriuspiggyback

Ghosts aren't people. This is something that Klaus learned when he was small. Ghosts aren't people, because people are more than the hate and fear and anger inside of them.

But Ben is different. Isn't he?

/Evil Ben fic that brought me loads of pain/10 chapters/36k words/Rated teen and up with a warning of graphic violence/

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This Is the First Day of My Life by @dyll-pickless

There was a stretch of silence. “Fine,” he eventually said. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

Klaus grinned. “I won’t.”

-OR-

In attempting to find more information on his brother's death, Klaus Hargreeves gets caught up in a lot of trouble with some very powerful people.

/Mob au that I love very very much/14 chapters/40.5k words/Rated teen and up with a warning of graphic violence/

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Unfamiliar by @caedi

A sleep deprived Klaus accidentally stumbles into a difficult discussion with Ben. One that's been haunting them both for sixteen years.

This changes a few things for the 1963 apocalypse. Other things stay the same.

/A kind of rewrite of the last few episodes of s2 that broke my heart and I love very much/4 chapters/25.5k words/Rated mature with no archive warnings/

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What was Lost in the Portal by @is-jus-me

“Five? What happened?” Vanya asked.

“I- I don’t remember,”

Five managed to successfully return to 2019, but there was a problem, not only did he return to his 13 year old body, but he also lost his memories about the apocalypse and the commission.

Basically, life was shit.

/Amazing fic that I love and beta'd mdnsjd/5 out of 7 chapters posted/4.3k words/Rated general with no archive warning/

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last ones standing by penhaligon (on ao3)

Ben's only haunt options are the apocalypse or a cold dark slithering place, and he thinks that the universe must really have it out for him.

/idk how to describe this but basically, 'good' kfkdkdkd it's good/2 chapters/12.6k words/Rated general with no archive warnings/

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One shot timeeeee kfmskdks

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To Be Or Not To Be by AllThoseOtherWorlds (on ao3)

When Five took them back to the start of the week for a re-do, Ben wasn't expecting to suddenly find himself in Klaus's body, but sometimes things like that happen. Now he has to explain some things to their siblings, figure out Klaus's powers so they can switch back, and perhaps most importantly, convince himself and Klaus that switching back is the right thing to do.

/One of my favorite fics/7.7k words/Rated teen and up with no archive warnings/

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A quiet kind of hurt by @whatisthis-whatamidoing

Ben had been having a nice day, eating his ice cream and watching his brothers bicker. Until a friendly dog tried to say hello.

Ben has trauma surrounding animals

/Have you ever wanted pain and sibling bonding all in one fic? Read this jfkskd I love it/2.5k words/Rated teen and up with warning for graphic violence/

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don't forget your lines by @zontiky

Dave goes on a lot of dates, and a lot of people die.

/I can't believe I'm reccing this but it's actually good minus the bit of bave/murder mystery shitshow/2.7k words/Rated teen and up with a warning for major character death/

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the first day of the rest of our lives by hujwernoo (on ao3)

Klaus should really stop coming to the alley. It's not like it helps anyone. Everyone is probably dead, so all he's accomplishing is making himself feel shitty. This is the last time, he decides. After today, he'll stop coming.

Turns out he's real fucking lucky he didn't decide that earlier.

/s2 fix it or rewrite of Klaus' arc in which he finds Allison at the alley and I love/5.2k words/Rated teen and up with no archive warnings/

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Two Presents by @evelinaonline

How does one surprise their dead brother that follows them around everywhere with a Christmas gift? Well, Klaus better figure it out soon, because Christmas is right around the corner and Ben isn't going anywhere.

/GENUINELY IN MY TOP 3 FAVORITE FICS GO READ RN/2.5k words/Rated general with no archive warnings/

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Life After Death, Literally by Tremble (on ao3)

Ben Hargreeves is a lot of things. He’s a brother, an ex-superhero and now an ex-ghost. He was dead, but he “lived” over ten years as a ghost. Becoming a living human, or as human as somebody with eldritch horrors living just under the skin can be, is going to take a bit of an adjustment period.

AKA 5 times Ben forgot he was alive +1 time he remembered.

/The cutest most wholesome shit I've ever read/5k words/Not rated with no archive warnings/

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The Dead Make Better Company Than The Living Sometimes by Scarlet_Nin (on ao3)

“This is a bad idea.”

“You’re such a worrywart, Benny!” Klaus squints at him, shifting on his feet at the entrance of a graveyard. He can hear the faint howls of screams in his ears, the coldness seeping into his bones, freezing him into place. “It’s gonna be fine. As easy as a piece of cake. Hey, you know what? We should go out and eat cake after this. You love cake.”

Ben shakes his head. “Look at yourself! You don’t even want to do this, so let’s leave.”

Klaus glances down at him, sexy boots with heels and his favorite fur trimmed jacket. “I look fabulous. Don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve been standing here for the past hour, trembling and trying to talk yourself up to take a single step further and yet you’re still standing here. Let’s go home, Klaus.”

Yeah, no. Not happening. He's here to prove something. Leaving now would be a waste of time. It would prove Daddy dearest right and Klaus hates that thought more than what he's about to do. If it all goes well, Five and the others would stop being so stressed and he'd earn himself some browney points in family bounding. Easy peasy.

Or not. Because ghosts in a graveyard are like rabid dogs fighting over a juicy steak.

/The summary is so long I'm so sorry nfjsjdjs/This fic is amazing pls read/8.2k words/Not rated with no archive warnings/

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So, with nothing else to do, Ben drifted. He just didn't expect to be pulled back into where most people go to enjoy their afterlife.

Take Me Home (I've Lost Myself) by @malecacidd

~^~

Reginald dies and god pulls Ben up to let them talk.

/FUCK IT I'M DOING A SELF PROMO BC THIS FIC GOT LESS ATTENTION THAN I WANTED AND I GENUINELY LIKE IT KCJZJDMSMS/2.8k words/Rated teen and up with no archive warnings/

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Okay that's all I'm doing because this is getting long JFJZJDNZNDNSKSK but 🥺🥺🥺 I hope you like these!!

#these are all honestly so good kfkdndnd i love them #fic recs #tua #the umbrella academy #ask #asks

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childofsolace-write-ups · 3 years ago

Text

[ARC ONE: REUNION]

INTRODUCTION

In the first year, thinking about it now, it was probably already starting then. There was no disaster, but I think it had been hinting on something, about an end that was to come. It was completely dark that night, we thought it was just some kind of an eclipse. But this one was a little strange. It was eerily quiet. I was scared. My baby sister was scared. Hell, my parents were scared. But then, they said it would be okay.

Like always, for every single day of our life, the sun would come up again, shine upon Gaea, and things will go back to normal.

Was I ever wrong.

You know what they say, right? Don't look at an eclipse straight in the eye. It could ruin your eyes? Well, when the sun came, it was so much worse. Anyone who walked out was burned... No, incinerated. Just like that, stepping outside and they spontaneously combust on the spot. The world thought it was just some new phenomenon. Scientists were trying to figure out why it happened. It took a whole year, but nothing came up for their trouble.

Then six more years followed, each one bringing forth a different kind of terror. The weather was unpredictable; countries that never experienced snow suddenly started experiencing hailstorms, leading up to terrible geo-storms. Insects invaded farms and destroyed their produce. Wildlife got infected with some unknown substance until them finally became creatures that look more like monsters we read only ever read about in stories, or watch about it movies.

And that was just the beginning of where everything went completely wrong...

/Trent Everhart/.Transmission over.//Year 70/

Once, people flourished and made a living above land. The resources were abundant. But then again, so were the humans who needed them.

Soon, 'Natural' lost its meaning, 'Artificial' replaced it. Machinery operations ran the daily lives of people, flowers and plants were faked serving as decorations, tall buildings took the place of tall trees in rain forests. Most factors considered natural can only be seen through microscopes.

But nature took its own course and returned with vengeance. Cosmic debris crash landed from above, causing an explosion that plagued the entire planet. It polluted the atmosphere and strange side effects started revealing themselves. Animals and vegetations alike were most susceptible to these changes. They attacked humans, nearly wiping out the entire species. Unable to thoroughly explain how this happened, scientists, without sufficient evidence, wrote it off as radioactive particles causing severe chemical changes to earth's living inhabitants.

But humans were smart, they were animals in their own way. They strive for survival.

Using the historical underground city of Derinkuyu as a reference they created a modernized type and with their latest state of the art technology they expanded it even further from two hundred feet to one thousand feet. For this purpose, unbeknown to the public, a life under the surface of the Earth was being prepared for them. Unlike the Derinkuyu however, they had the materials and technology to have metallic interiors and bunker units for dwelling. A large, nine hundred meter metallic ventilation shaft was constructed, filtering the carbon from above to be breathable oxygen air. The shaft also provided water to both the villagers above and, if the outside world was not accessible, to those in hiding.

Eventually, anyone not affected by the atmosphere were evacuated to underground cities right before the atmosphere could become too unpredictable and prove hazardous to their lives. A new system of governance was created. Since the underground cities in all part of the world were interconnected one way or another, they all decided to use a unified language starting then. 'Councillors' is the term referred to leaders chosen in each division, the word country becoming obsolete.

Guards who were obligated to inspect the surface level regularly were given Hi-tech contamination suits with advanced, state-of-the-art filters as to not be be affected by the atmosphere since anyone exposed to the atmosphere is banned from re-entering the cities. Some people died due to open wounds exposed to the atmosphere's strange particles.

Soon, humans engaged in a new form of living, but not without encountering troubles along the way.

The fear of being unable to distribute provisions without having shortages became prominent. This led the Councilors to convene altogether and come up with a radical solution. They decided to send back to the surface anyone they classify as worthless or a liability. More than a thousand orphaned, disabled, and jobless individuals were sent back up on the first release. It did not really matter to them if they survived or not, it was inconsequential as long as their survival was assured. In the years that followed, this became a normal routine. With the initial liabilities released, all the present releases were orphaned children. Then again, as one hero once stated in the History of the Surface, "The Youth is the hope of the nation", there came a generation of hope.

It was not planned, it wasn't an intention. It just happened.

Of the first batch of releases that only involved orphans, only eight had survived the harsh environment of the regressed and primitive state that the surface had been reduced to. Together, they survived and now thrive to make a living once more above ground, as humans were really meant to be.

Still, the Underground city was not to be ignored. And perhaps, it is to be reminded, who the true enemy really is.

::TREY::

The forest is quiet.

That's your first clue. Even on the surface, even given that most of the Earth's living creatures got wiped out within weeks of it happening, things should never be This quiet.

You'll never know; something dangerous could be trying to hide itself.

"I think this is where I found it."

I give a jolt when Lexie spoke behind me. I completely forgot she was there. With the silence, it was easy to think I was alone. "Keep your voice down," I whisper. "we don't know what might be out there."

"Trey," Kytes whispers back. "wouldn't it be better to just use telepathy? We wouldn't be making any sound."

I sigh, "Kyi that would be using our signature and if there is any bad Mana around here, that would set things off, like an open flame to gas leaks." I rub my forehead. "C'mon, we've been over this a thousand times. You're lucky it's not Rhys reminding you."

Kytes scratches his head. "Oh, yeah..."

"Been here for eight years, you would think you'd have that memorized by now." Lexie teases playfully. "It's survival 101."

Oh really? I think sarcastically. Like she's one to talk about survival 101. Half the time, Corrin's the ones reminding her of our protocols...

Kytes looks a little sheepish. "People can be forgetful, it happens..."

"Okay, shut it already you two." They weren't really making any real noise, but I knew Lexie's tendencies and once you got her talking, it might be harder to get her to stop. "Kytes's idea was good just too bad for that small detail. Now we should keep quiet." Like I was making any noise, though. "Let's get a move on, keep alert for anything that doesn't feel right."

"Heh, I forgot how uptight Trey can be..."

I huff in irritation but chose not to respond. She calls it being uptight, I call it instinct. It was very important after all, especially in terms of surviving the surface's unpredictability. We, the ones left, have gotten pretty good in relying on instincts. It's about the only warning you get up here.

The forest is very unusual even if it looks like any other forest. For one thing, I'm not even sure it can be called a forest, at least not a natural one, given that it's growing in the middle of what used to be a town. The road is cracked by numerous roots, and most of the buildings have trees growing out of them. Their walls could be hiding any number of things. The forest itself is the oddest thing. Many years ago, this was a thriving metropolis, full of people, tourists, machines—now it's home to trees that look like they've been there a good fifty years at least. This is one of the most immediate changes caused by the strange atmosphere when the phenomenon had first spread out through the entire globe. The landscape got warped beyond all recognition in the early days. That's why so many people died...

Like mom and dad.

"Oh!" Lexie cries and stops in her tracks.

I turn towards her. "Shh!" I snap. "Alexis, jeez."

"But Trey, this is where I found it. Only..."

Kytes scans the area. "Well, it's not here now."

"Quiet, the creature that pissed might still be around." I face Lexie. "And you're sure the piss was the non-absorbent type?"

We have to watch where or what we step into. Because if, for instance, you got an open wound and you stepped into a puddle with urine in it and that wound happens to get infected as well then it could mean something really bad. The Rabid animals up here are so messed up that even a slight contact with their shit may turn fatal for us. Luckily, only the Rabid Animals have urinal waste that have a touch of color so it's easy to figure which ones are the non-absorbent type. We try to get rid of those because prevention was better than cure.

"Well, it was a pool on the ground, all purpley and molted. I watched it for a while, it didn't seem like it was going away." Lexie combs strands of black hair away from her face. "So I thought..."

Kytes shrugs. "It's either something else absorbed it, or it really was absorbent after all and just needed more time to soak in."

"Maybe. So then, should we just—EWW, GROSS!"

"What is it—OH YUCK!"

I swat them both to remind them to be quiet and made a mental note to give them extra kitchen clean up duty. Really, do they want a death wish?

"It's just a skeleton—" an animal's. We don't see human skeletons since the earlier days, when we made it a point to try and bury the ones we still could out of respect. "you've seen them before."

"I know—but they're usually not THAT fresh." Lexie frowns.

I have to agree, it's isn't the prettiest thing I've seen. Even the other skeletons weren't as bad. It looked like someone's halfway eaten meal...

Wait.

"Quiet. See if you can hear anything."

Lexie leans back against a tree, Kytes crouches by a bush with me, and we stay still as possible listening out for anything unusual. I know there's something not right here. No animal noises, no birds. Then there's that heavy oppressive silence as though we're being watched very closely. A light breeze blows my fringe into my eyes and I bat it out of the way, frowning. The feeling something being wrong is stronger than ever.

Wait.

The breeze.

It should have rustled the leaves on the trees too. Yet there was no noise. I look up at the tree tops. They're perfectly still. Even as another breeze stirs the forest. Why would that be? Unless the trees are watching us?

I look around the Clearing.

Now that I think about it, the trees do seem slightly closed together than they were. As I watch, an oak sends a root trailing over! What could they be doing?

Unless... The Skeleton.

"RUN!" I grab Kytes and haul him after me, jumping over the oak root and out of the circle of trees.

"Woah now! Trey—what?"

Kytes doesn't have to finish his sentence. A large branch is suddenly in front of us and I'm unable to stop from tripping over it. A root winds itself around my ankle. Kytes is now full aware of the attack as more follow, breaking the surface of the ground to wrap themselves around us.

"I thought they only moved that fast with time lapse photography!"

Kytes takes his survival knife out. "I think this is a bit more serious than time lapse photography!"

Before I could bring out my own Cutlass, some vines grab hold of my forearm. The blond slashes off with precision he mastered, perfectly avoiding cutting my flesh. Lexie wields her double-edged Naginata to cut off vines stretching down from above. I'm still amazed how a girl like her who used to whine about missing cosmetics and other pointless stuff is now so skilled in combat. I think Lexie's weapon type came from some Asian country. I forgot which one. Actually, I even forgot what our own country was called. It seemed like such a long time ago that we used the term country.

I am once again forever grateful of Rhys's brilliant mind. Back then, we could count the weapons we had available to us with two hands. But once we got older, or more to the point, when Rhys got older and smarter, he made used of some books he found to create bladed weapons once we found a steel forging factory. And he had enough books to show him how to forge weapons of different origins. He taught us how to make our own, but most of the time they were poor attempts compared to what Rhys can craft. Now any weapons we need for ourselves and those who keeps coming can be easily accessed and made... Well, maybe not easily made since they still required a lot of effort, but at least we don't have to keep scavenging for usable weapons now. Sure, we could use all those guns and ammunition we got in storage, but we all agreed to save those for a time we might really need to them. Besides, at least with bladed weapons, there's no worries for a shortage of ammunition.

"Kytes, Trey! Do something, they keep coming!"

Kytes slashes his knife to an incoming vine before jumping back. "Uh, and you don't call what we're doing something?" He jumps over a root.

"Less talking, more attacking!" I snap, finishing off the hostile roots at my side and rush to aid Lexie. I make it in time to keep a giant flower bud from chomping her head clean off, barely missing the launch of purple goo it spat out. "Wah?!" I yelp, twirling my head around for a double take, seeing the goo boil through a bush as if it were acid or something, which explained the skeleton. "Okay. Rabid Vegetation's Gastric acid. Just as bad as a Rabid Animal's piss."

Lexie grunts, using her weapon as leverage to get up. "Noted. Next time, try saving my skin without pushing me. I twisted my ankle."

Okay, that was my bad. But it was that or being plant feed. At least she didn't break skin and bleed. Although uncertain, Corrin says fatality is possible if open wounds were exposed to loose Mana energy for more than ten minutes, and I forgot to make sure that we brought bandages with us. That's one strike of careless act for the day. I try to keep that to a minimum, the maximum being three. As the Leader, being extra cautious is an expectation.

"Trey! Help me out here!"

I spin around and saw vines lifting Kytes up, his knife lay useless on the ground. I rush towards him.

By duty, I was responsible for everyone up here as their leader.

As a friend, I was responsible for the blond, I was indebted to him.

When my sister was sick on the day we were going to be released to the surface, he took her place. I also owe it to his older brother, my best friend, who was now taking care of her back in the Underground city.

The vines were so thick that I couldn't slice through it with my Cutlass. I had to use the other way, but how can I with Kytes still in its clutches? A vine grips around my arm and I wince in pain as it tightens on my radius.

"TREY!"

Before I was fully aware of it there was fire flooding all my senses. I lashed out in rage, only vaguely aware of the beeping on my wrist that reminds me to take it easy. The vines holding up Kytes fall away in front of me. Luckily, the blond looked unharmed.

"Get out of the way!"

Thankfully, Kytes seemed to get what was about to happen. He grabs his knife and rolls out of the way. Good, I did not want to be misunderstood now. The two did not take their eyes off me as they back away. I concentrate where I want to have the flames to burst out and the results were no less effective. The Vegetable mutations draws back, leaving us unscathed except for Lexie's twisted ankle, which Corrin can heal no problem. I concentrate on pulling my power back. I look at the device fashioned like a watch that was strapped on my wrist, indicating my energy's exertion level. I see that it's stable and I join the two out of the clearing. Kytes helps her up and supports her weight.

"Code Red?"

I sigh, nodding. "Yes. We had far too many incidents this week alone, this being the twelfth. It's about that time again," It was a little frustrating. Rhys just got a filter working so we could fill a pool with clean water. I guess we have to make the most of it while we're still here. "I don't want anyone hunting till we move. We still have meat stocked so it's not like we have to settle for the vegetables and fruits in Kytes's gardens."

"Hey," The blond scowls. "My produce aren't that bad... are they?"

I smirk. "No Kytes, but if there's a chance to have meat, we want to have some too." I pat his back. "Let's head back."

"Oh, but Trey—" Lexie's eyes rolls up a bit. It signals her using her tracking ability. She's like a built-in GPS system with that. I don't really get it, but she can sense another person's or thing's Mana and Rhys has a theory that the ones who use Mana in their own way also has a unique trademark, like a fingerprint, so to speak. It was a bit unnerving the first time she used it since all you see were her cornea, but if you knew her as long as we have, you get used to it. "—yeah, I sense three guys out hunting nearby already."

I roll my eyes, "Three," I mutter knowingly, and the two share similar looks. "the only one who can get away with not following the group count rule is Meeko, and only if he has Lori and one other person watching his back."

Back then, with the whole idea of 'The rule of three' and it being an optimal number, maybe it would've made sense. But when playing video games and I would choose Party members, to challenge myself, I would pick three only; the MC would still get enough experience points and two characters would be enough to support him in battle. But this isn't a video game with a restart button. Normally when we send out groups for hunts, Five was the permitted number. It's too dangerous any less. Meeko can get away with it since his ability was multiplying himself. Usually, Meeko did most of the work to get it out of his system, being one of those always hyped-up types. Granted, he is one of our best hunters which we would all acknowledge often if he wasn't so rash and impulsive at times. This brings me to his better half, or more reasonable twin brother, Lori who normally didn't like fighting. Unless something or someone he cares for is in danger, he can be provoked to act though.

In our case, well, I thought the three of us would be enough for the Urinal extraction since we weren't really expecting a fight since this wasn't a hunt for food and we are still pretty much near the base, but I guess I didn't account for the fact that trouble would be the one hunting us. Even two persons used to be enough for extractions, but perhaps I neglected to take into consideration the level of experience. Previously, those two persons doing extractions had been either Rhys and myself or Leon and Jonah, the latter pair being eldest of our entire group. I only grabbed Kytes and Lexie this time because they were immediately available, and while I did not question their experience, Kytes was more adept to scouting, and that entailed evasive action, staying in a place only long enough to check its safety and avoiding combat as much as possible. Lexie was used to scavenging, which was gathering any useful items or materials after scouts deemed an area clear for occupying or searching. These two haven't seen combat as often as I have.

Damn, that's a second strike for me. "Where are they exactly?"

"A bit Northeast you'd get to that river, follow it downstream you'll make it to a clearing passed some thicket of bushes. Berry bushes, to be exact, not the good kind. They're at a glade of sorts..." Lexie smirks. "Well, at least the two not going crazy are. But I sense the third more crazier one of them is nearby."

Kytes laughs. "Just make it easier and call him who it most probably is. Even I can figure it's Meeko." he says.

"Okay, you two head back. I'll go fetch them. Kyi, after you take Lexie to the infirmary, go tell Rhys to prepare putting up some warning signs." I instruct. "Suggest Code 3." Carnivorous vegetation.

The blond nods. "Code 3, got it." He lifts Lexie, positioning her on his back in a way that can make him run faster. He takes off and I'm fairly impressed. He's fourteen carrying a sixteen year old while managing a running pace. I guess years of training does that.

I sheath my Cutlass and took off myself.

#ChildOfSolace Original

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omnivorousshipper · 4 years ago

Text

Half a World Away

summery: It all started when Luke intended to get back at Deckard for the whole Mike Oxmaul stunt. He didn't expect it to go any further

This was written for the Summer Shobbs Fic Exchange. This is for my partner @possiblypogue Link to fic on AO3

Luke could barely keep the smile off his face as he hit the call button and heard ringing. Leaning against the wall of the gym he was at, he finally felt his face split into a wide grin as he heard a british voice answer.

“Let me guess, you have a mission to save the world that you just can’t do without me,” Deckard asked, and Luke could absolutely hear the eye roll in his voice.

Putting the phone on speaker, Luke let out a chuckle as he stood and took off his jacket.

“Nah, man. I was checking in on how my good friend was doing,” he said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. “And I, um-”

“Who are you talking to?”

Luke froze.

“Deck, who are you talking to?”

The voice of Owen Shaw was very distinct, even if it barely filtered through the phone.

“Get the hell out of my face, you little prick!” Deckard hissed back.

“Not before you tell me who you’re talking to. They have to be important to make you smile like that.”

A muffled sound came from the speaker, and if Luke had to guess, he would put his money on Deckard trying to keep his little brother from grabbing the phone.

“It’s none of your business!”

“Is it Tom?”

“No!”

“Lydia?”

“For the last time, Owen! I’m not talking to anyone you forced me to go on a blind date with!” The brit nearly yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls.

“Blind date?” Luke asked, his curiosity thoroughly peaked. He grabbed up his phone, took it off speaker and put it up to his ear. He needed to make sure to hear all of this. “I thought the great Deckard Shaw would be able to get anyone he wanted. And not be forced to be set up on blind dates by his brother.”

“Shut it, you knob,” Deckard growled back, but didn’t deny anything, which only made Luke’s curiosity and laughter to grow.

“C’mon, just tell me who you’re talking to!”

“Is your little brother seriously whining right now?” Luke asked incredulously. There was a lot he was hoping to hear today, but to hear the guy he had chased around the world literally whining had not been something he had been expecting.

Unfortunately, his question is ignored, and instead Luke can hear Owen’s voice much better. No doubt he was getting right up in Deckard’s face.

“Who the bloody hell is ‘She-Hulk’?”

“Nobody!” Deckard’s voice was getting close to sounding like a rabid animal, in Luke’s opinion. If the man kept growling, Luke was pretty sure he was going to hurt himself. “Would you leave me alone, you arsehole?”

“Fine,” Owen huffed, his voice getting smaller again. “You want another pint?”

“Yeah. But, don’t you dare drink half of it again!” Deckard barked after him.

“You know what?” Luke asked.

“What?” Deckard sighed, all fight seeming to disappear from his voice.

“When I met your brother, he never striked me as the ‘annoying little brother’ type,” Luke commented.

“Yeah, well. You didn’t really get to know him, did you?” “Fair,” Luke agreed. Even now, he didn’t really want to get to know the younger Shaw brother. But, he had a feeling Owen would have a few choice words for what Luke had planned for Deckard.

“Anyway, why the hell are you calling me?”

“Oh, no particular reason,” Luke nonchalantly said. “Just wanted to hear what’s about to go down.”

“What are you talking about, numbnuts?” Deckard snorted. “All that’s going to happen is me and my brother enjoying a pint together.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that’s all that’s going to happen,” Luke smirked, and could just imagine the extremely suspicious look in the other man’s eyes as he said that.

“What the bloody hell did you do, Hobbs?”

“Just wait for it,” Luke chuckled. “It might involve rubber gloves and a cavity search.”

“You didn’t,” Deckard responded, his voice revealing that he didn’t quite believe Luke’s statement. But suddenly, Luke could hear shouting in the background. Right on time. “You bloody bastard.”

“Told you I would get you back, Shaw,” Luke laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, Mike Oxmaul,” Deckard grunted back.

“Oh, I will,” Luke promised him. “Just make sure your little brother doesn’t hurt the bobbies too much, Hugh Janus.”

“It’s not Owen they should be worried about. Or you, for that matter,” Deckard told him cooly. “Make sure to watch your back, Hobbs.”

“HOBBS?!”

And with that final shout from Owen, the call was ended, leaving Luke sitting on a bench press, staring down at his phone. On one hand, he couldn’t wait to hear how Deckard and his brother got out of the situation he had set up. On the other hand, Luke couldn’t help but feel a shiver of excitement at Deckard’s last words.

“Do your worst, Shaw,” Luke whispered down to his phone. He couldn’t wait to hear back from the Brit.

~~~

Although he would never admit it, Luke was on edge for a while after that last call between him and Deckard. He tried to stop himself from looking behind him, tried to not stiffen up when a loud noise occurred, and most definitely tried not to think about all the ways the Brit could get back at him.

Instead, he focused on planning his and Sam’s trip to Samoa, and finally allowing all of his family to come together. Luckily, since he just saved the world for the umpteenth time, nobody was really against him taking a long vacation. And every thought even connected to Shaw flew out of his mind when he saw the amazement in Sam’s eyes when they touched down in Samoa.

And when he saw his mother embrace Sam, Luke couldn’t help but feel conflicted. If he had to live his life over, he wouldn’t change the fact that he turned his father in and ran from his family. But, he wished he had come back to Samoa sooner. To repair bridges and let Sam have more of a family than a father.

Now, as he sat in a chair, watching his family dance, sing, and laugh around a bonfire, the warm night air keeping their spirits high, Luke couldn’t be happier. He was so lost in watching everyone around him, he jumped a little when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw it was a text from Hattie. When he had introduced Sam to Jonah and his mother, he had gotten a picture of them, and without thinking, had sent it to Hattie, telling her about his family reunion.

Looking down at the text, Luke could feel his eyebrows raising.

Got my family reunion too :p

Luke couldn’t help the loud snort he made as he looked down at the picture Hattie had sent.

It was a selfie of her and Owen. Hattie was smiling so much, Luke was surprised if it didn’t hurt, but he couldn’t help but copying her as he looked at Owen. Her brother’s face was completely covered in whipped cream, with his eyes screwed shut. Chuckling, Luke texted her back.

That’s a good look for him

Putting his phone back into his pocket, he forgot about the Shaws as he saw Sam running up to him, excitedly telling him about the cars Jonah had shown her.

He didn’t think about the texts between him and Hattie until much later, when his whole family had crashed from the party, and he had finally convinced Sam to go to bed herself, promising that Samoa would still be there when she woke up.

It wasn’t until he had gone to his own bed, ready to fall into it, that he got another text but this time from a different Shaw. Apparently Deckard also wanted to send him pictures.

“Now isn’t that adorable,” Luke muttered, scrolling through the several pictures the Brit had sent him.

The first was of Hattie and Owen, who seemed to have melded together, because Luke couldn’t tell where one started and the other began. They were both asleep, cuddled up on a couch. Luke had to admit that both siblings looked the most peaceful he had ever seen either of them looking before. Hattie was laying on Owen’s chest, head tucked under his chin, while Owen had his arms securely wrapped around his little sister.

The next photo was of an older woman, who Luke had to guess was Magdalene Shaw, the siblings’ mother. She was dressed smartly, but her composed demeanor was completely destroyed by the position she was in. She was fast asleep in an armchair, her head resting on her shoulder, while her hands rested on the armrests, both hands holding something. An empty wine glass and a plate with half-eaten food stayed in her loose grip.

Luke’s grin just grew as he took the older woman in. It seemed like it was naptime for the Shaw household.

The other pictures were all of Owen and Hattie, both seeming like they were having way too much fun in Luke’s opinion. Especially when in the one with both of them juggling knives. He looked the pictures over, a small smile present on his face. It was nice to see that the Shaw family had finally been mended.

He was about to text back to Deckard, when he instead received one.

Deck was being a butt and refused to send these

“Really living up to the reputation of a little sister, aren’t you Hattie?” Luke snorted.

He wasn’t surprised in the least to wake up to a text from Deckard in the morning.

Hatts stole my phone. Ignore all of this

Rolling his eyes, Luke texted back.

I’ll gladly ignore you princess

~~~

The kitchen was filled with delicious smells, the sounds of several pots boiling, a frypan sizzling, and the sound of rhythmic cutting, all which could be heard over soft classical music. Suddenly, a loud ringing filled the kitchen, cutting through every other noise. Putting down the knife he had been using, Deckard whipped his hands before picking up his phone.

“Shaw.”

“Did you send a fucking assassin after me?!”

“Nice to hear from you, Hobbs,” Deckard smirked. He put his phone on speaker, placing it on the counter next to him. Picking up his knife again, he continued to cut up the onion on the cutting board. “Sounds like you didn’t quite enjoy my latest present.”

“Airport security is one thing, Shaw,” Luke growled. “A fucking assassin is another!” “Oh, please,” Deckard rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ask him to kill you.”

“No,” Luke hissed. “Instead, you asked him to ruin my mission, beat the shit out of me, and leave me a laughing stock in front of my whole team.”

“Well, what else would you expect to happen?” Deckard asked. “The guy was wearing a clown nose.”

“What kind of assassin would wear a clown nose!” Luke shouted through the speaker, making Deckard burst out laughing. “And not to mention, that guy is even smaller than your puny ass! Do you know what the guys are saying about me after this whole fiasco?” “I would love to hear what they’re saying,” Deckard hummed. “But you really shouldn’t have even tried fighting Francis. He’s not quite… classically trained.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that when the guy started dancing and still got me on my back,” Luke hissed back.

“Just be glad I didn’t actually ask him to kill you. The guy still owes me a few favors from Siberia.”

“Well, thank you so much for sparing my life, your majesty,” Luke groused, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “But don’t you dare think we’re even.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Deckard snorted. “Have fun writing up the report of how you got your ass handed to you by a clown.”

“Fuck you, Shaw.”

~~~

Two weeks later, and still no retribution from Hobbs, Deckard had to wonder what the other man was planning. He was kind of hoping the other man would copy him again and send someone after him. Deckard needed a good fight.

After he had returned from Samoa and proved his innocence of killing his team when he was an agent, Deckard’s life had gone in several directions. MI6 had been trying to contact him, with Hattie bugging him every other day to answer their calls. Meanwhile, his mother was out of prison and up to her old tricks.

Both parties were trying to convince Deckard to work for them. And in all honesty, he was sick of it.

It was offensive that the spy organization thought they could ask him to come back, with no sort of apology or acknowledgement that they had hunted him down like a beast. All they wanted was his skills and undying loyalty. It didn’t help that they had convinced Hattie that Deckard working for them would be a dream come true for the younger Shaw.

And at the same time, here was his mother, calling him nearly every day and asking him what he was up to. And then asking if he would like to join either her or Owen on a heist. And while her offers did sound tempting, they were not what Deckard was looking for.

After so many years being on the run and relying on himself, Deckard had to admit one thing: it had been freeing not to take orders.

His whole life, he either followed his parents’ word, and then it was every drill sergeant, captain, squad leader, and then senior agent telling him what to do. He had been the perfect agent. Always following orders to a T, but now, after experiencing life following his own code, he didn’t want to return to following someone else’s rules.

For the first time in a long time, he was truly free to do whatever he wanted.

The only problem was, Deckard had no idea what he wanted to do.

Now, here he was sitting alone in his home, late at night, reading a book on gardening.

He had already gone through several books: some biographies of famous spies, others about Russia’s rulers, and even a japanese romance novel Owen had left at his place. None of them had kept his attention.

Nothing seemed to be keeping his attention nowadays. He had taken a walk earlier through the streets of London, and everything seemed… dull.

He used to find the old city’s streets to be exciting when he was a child. But his excitement turned to cautiousness as he grew older and the streets began to become much more threatening. But even when he was on the run and every street corner could have spelled his doom, Deckard had never thought of London as a dull place.

But now everything seemed dull in comparison to his time spent running around the world, being chased by Brixton and being forced to work with Luke Hobbs.

Sighing, Deckard put his book down and scrubbed a hand down his face, and briefly considered just turning in for the night. Even sleep seemed more interesting than anything else in his apartment.

The only real highlight of his days recently had been when his siblings would visit. It was calming to be in the kitchen, bickering back and forth with one or both of them. To have his home filled with teasing and laughter, instead of the usual silence that encased it like a tomb, it was a nice change. But, it didn’t happen often. MI6 had fully reinstated Hattie and was constantly assigning her to missions, while Owen was busy helping their mother with heists or heists of his own.

And while Deckard enjoyed having his family around, he would never bother them and force them to stay longer. They were all adults and they had their own lives to live. Deckard just wished he could figure out to live his.

Ringing from his phone cut through his thoughts and making Deckard blink in surprise. He shouldn’t be getting calls this late, unless someone was in trouble. Picking the phone up, Deckard tilted his head at the caller, but nonetheless he answered it.

“What do you want, Hobbs?”

“Hey,” Luke greeted him hesitantly. “It’s not too late for me to call, is it?” Deckard quirked an eyebrow at that.

“Luke Hobbs being considerate of what time it is for me? What has the world come to?”

“Oh, fuck off, you jackass,” Luke huffed back. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“And why would you want to do that? Need something?” Deckard asked, sitting up, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“Actually,” Luke sighed. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Deckard felt his other eyebrow follow the first, as they both raised in surprise.

“Finally admitting you’re not superman and actually need help?”

“If you’re going to be an ass about it, then I’m just going to hang up,” Luke snapped.

“Oh, don’t go getting your knickers in a bunch, you oversized idiot.” Deckard rolled his eyes. “What do you need help with?”

It was almost as if a switch had been hit because Luke’s voice went from snappish and full of his usual bravo to professional.

“Since you’re more familiar with Europe’s criminal underground, I was hoping you’d be able to help me with something in France’s black market.”

“I might know a guy who sells illegal tech in France,” Deckard offered. He heaved himself off his couch and went towards the kitchen, where he left his laptop on the table. “What are you specifically looking for?”

“We’re looking for a very intelligent trojan horse. A prototype has been making its way through some smaller countries’ firewalls and we want to find it’s source. We think whoever programmed it is selling it out of France.”

Getting comfortable, Deckard listened to Luke, his hands flying over his laptop’s keyboard, messaging his contacts and hacking into a few others’ systems and seeing if they had anything to do with it.

They went back and forth, sharing what information they were both collecting, talking each other through several theories of who could be behind the virus. Of course, small insults were thrown in, but if anything, it helped keep the air between them light, and without realizing it, Deckard had started to smile.

He didn’t know when he started to laugh at the more inane jokes Luke threw out, claiming that he was a father and allowed to make such jokes.

“You’re a wanker, is what you are,” Deckard snorted.

“I can be both!”

Time passed quickly, both too caught up in their search and personal banter to realize how late it had gotten.

“So, we have it narrowed down to three suspects,” Luke concluded. Deckard leaned back in his chair, looking over the three profiles on his screen and let out a hum.

“I still think you should take Josh Lafrance off the list.”

“Why? You know him?”

“Only met him a few times,” Deckard admitted, chewing on his lip in thought. “Let me call him up. If I can’t make him squeal, Owen can.”

“Please don’t tell me your brother is involved in this shit. I don’t need to be chasing his ass around the world again.”

“Bugger off. If Owen was part of this, I’d wring his neck.”

“Just wanted to check,” Luke placated. “But, how does he know Lafrance?”

Deckard felt his face twist in consideration.

“It’s not really any of my business, or your’s, but I’m pretty sure they shag occasionally,” Deckard finally admitted.

“Oh.”

“Oh what?”

“Sorry, just didn’t think your brother was into guys.”

“He’ll get with anything that’s pretty enough,” Deckard shrugged. “Or interesting enough. You wouldn’t believe how many times he’s gotten in trouble by shagging the wrong person.”

“Oh, I can believe it,” Luke chuckled. “And what about you? Have you ‘shagged’ anyone’s wife that you shouldn’t have?”

“Oi! I don’t sleep with any married people,” Deckard huffed in indignation. “But, there was this one time I got into a spot of trouble by sleeping with a mob boss’s son.”

“Of course you did,” Luke outright laughed.

“It wasn’t my fault the little bugger used me as an excuse to sneak out!” Deckard defended himself, but felt his smile undermining his statement. At the time, it had been intimidating to get threatened by a mob boss, but now, Deckard couldn’t deny that it had been a bit funny that he had been an act of rebellion by the boss’s son.

Deckard was about to explain further, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a yawn took over his words and made him completely incomprehensible.

“What in the fresh hell was that noise?”

“Fuck off, you prick. I’m just yawning.”

“Oh shit. How late is it for you?” Luke asked, no doubt just noticing the time. “Shit. I shouldn’t have kept you up.”

“Don’t worry about it, twinkletoes,” Deckard told him, but had to stifle another yawn.

“Either way, sorry to keep you up so late,” Luke apologized. “An old man like you needs his rest.”

“Who the bloody hell are you calling old, you rat bastard?” Deckard growled, but was only met by laughter.

“Night, Shaw. Thanks again for your help.”

And with those parting words, the call ended, suddenly plunging Deckard back into silence.

Looking down at his phone, Deckard couldn’t help but slump back into his chair.

“Night, Hobbs,” he said to the empty room.

~~~

Luke was in a hotel room in France a week later, finally falling into bed after busting an infamous hacker who had been selling government ruining tech to the highest bidder. Luke was exhausted and planned to sleep until it was the next day and he had to fly back to L.A.

He let out a groan of despair when he heard his phone ringing.

“What the fuck do you bastards want now?” He sighed to himself, but eventually forced himself to sit up and answer his phone. He didn’t bother checking who was calling, just assuming it was his boss calling for an update.

“I really wish I was an only child sometimes,” a british voice sighed heavily into Luke’s ear.

“What?” Luke responded back intelligently.

“My brother and sister are going at it right now,” Deckard explained. And Luke grimaced at the sound of bone tiredness in the other man’s voice. He sounded even more exhausted than Luke felt.

“What are they fighting about?” He asked, a bit of concern in his voice. It had seemed like the three Shaws got along fairly well. What could have happened to set them off?

Luke’s worry only grew when Deckard didn’t respond.

“Shaw?”

Another sigh.

“Hattie knew Cipher.”

“What?!” Luke yelped.

“Well, she didn’t really know Cipher,” Deckard amended.

“Then how the hell does Hattie know her?” Luke demanded.

“Apparently they met in a bar,” Deckard explained. “They hit it off, had a few one night stands, and then parted ways.”

“Did Cipher do anything to Hattie?” Luke asked, his exhaustion completely forgotten as he thought about all the ways Cipher could have hurt the youngest Shaw.

“That’s the weird thing,” Deckard huffed in frustration. “It was only a small fling. Nothing else happened. We don’t think Cipher even knew who Hattie was.”

“What? How’s that even possible?”

“Hattie erased all traces of her being related to our family when she left,” Deckard sighed. “She must have done such a good job, Cipher didn’t find any trace of her in Owen’s or my files.”

“So, it was just a harmless fling between them?” Luke cautiously asked.

“Seems that way.”

“Then why are your brother and sister fighting?” “Well…”

“What?”

“Owen might have, uh…”

It was Luke’s turn to sigh.

“Let me guess, your brother also had a fling with Cipher while he worked with her.”

“Yeah.”

“But why would Hattie be upset?”

“It’s not that simple,” Deckard said. “This isn’t the first time Hatts and Oh have slept with the same person.”

“Oh my god.” Luke wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or not. “How many times?”

“Too many,” Deckard let out a groan. “They’ve been at it for an hour already.”

“Do you think they’ll wear themselves out?”

“Not really,” Deckard siad. “Here, listen.”

There was a beat of silence, no doubt Deckard walking back to his siblings. And then-

“YOU ABSOLUTE CUNT!” Hattie’s screech came through loud and clear. As did Owen’s response.

“GO FUCK YOURSELF!”

“See?” Deckard’s voice sounded small next to his siblings’ yelling.

“Yeah. I kinda wish you were an only child, too.”

It was nice to hear Deckard’s laugh after all the sighing he had been doing earlier.

~~~

They had talked for a while after that, Deckard telling Luke about all the times his brother and sister found out they had been with the same person. But eventually, he had to hang up, Hattie demanding he come to her defense.

Before the other man could be pulled into the screaming match, Luke had made him promise to keep him updated on the fight. He was too invested now.

Unfortunately, Luke fell asleep, phone still clutched in his hand. When he woke up hours later, he blurriedly blinked at the several missed messages from Deckard.

Two hours now

Four *eye roll emoji*

They’ve finally stopped for tea

Nvm. Owen started throwing biscuits

The final message was a picture of Owen and Hattie throwing food at each other, but a smile on both their faces.

They always have to ruin my kitchen

Luke let out a laugh, just imagining the look of irritation and fondness on Deckard’s face.

~~~

After that, Luke could feel a shift in their sorta-kinda-maybe friendship. Luke didn’t hesitate to call the Brit, asking for his help in something. Their talks would start off professional, but would soon dissolve into something warmer, friendlier. It felt natural for Luke to throw out a harmless insult, or start a nonsensical argument, because Deckard would respond in kind, keeping up with Luke with his own wit.

Soon enough, their calls turned to texting, mostly because he didn’t need Sam picking up on his language. It was summer vacation now and she kept insisting for her bedtime to be later and later.

It seemed like no matter when Luke would text Deckard, the man would respond within ten minutes. He became used to always seeing a message from the Brit, that Luke could feel a sense of worry crawl up his spine when Deckard didn’t respond to him for several days.

It was after almost a week of no response, when Luke finally received a text in the middle of the night. Sam was at a sleepover and Luke had treated himself to a marathon of all the basketball games he had missed recently.

You busy?

Luke furrowed his brow in confusion. Deckard was usually not that brief in his texts.

No. What do you need?

Instead of a text, Luke’s phone lit up with a call, which he answered immediately.

“Deckard?” He gently asked.

“Hey.”

Luke winced at the croak that came over the phone. Deckard’s voice sounded wrecked.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Deckard mumbled, his words slurring together.

“Are you drunk?” Luke asked incredulously.

“A bit,” the Brit sighed. His voice sounded even more distorted, almost as if something was covering his face.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I saw my Da,” Deckard whispered so quietly, Luke almost couldn’t hear him. And he noticed how thick the Brit’s accent was getting, no doubt the alcohol loosening his tongue.

“Is that a bad thing?” Luke cautiously questioned. He couldn’t remember either Deckard or Hattie talking about their father. And he hadn’t seen anything about the man in any of the Shaw siblings’ files.

“I don’t know,” Deckard sighed and Luke could tell the other man was lying. His voice sounded so broken, and Luke swore he could hear something else in his voice.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

“Could we…” Deckard trailed off.

“What?” Luke asked, his voice gentle, not wanting to scare Deckard off.

“Could we just talk about something else? Anything else?”

“Of course,” Luke immediately agreed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“How’s your daughter doing? Sam, right?” “She’s doing great,” Luke started, a smile appearing on his face. “She’s gotten into rollerblading recently. You wouldn’t believe how many times I have to remind her to wear her knee pads.”

“As reckless as her old man,” Deckard chuckled softly.

“Who the hell are you calling old?”

They talked for hours after that. From how the next school year would go for Sam to what the weather in London would be like in the morning. Deckard never talked about his father or why he had drunkenly called Luke, but Luke wasn’t about to push the man. He understood father issues. Instead, he stayed up with Deckard and didn’t let him off the line until he was satisfied that Deckard was in a better mood.

It wasn’t until the fifth yawn in a row did Luke finally tell Deckard:

“Alright, princess, I think it’s past midnight. Your fairy godmother's spell is going to wear off soon.”

“Screw you, Luke,” Deckard yawned loudly.

“Sweet dreams, Deck,” Luke whispered.

“Mmhmm,” Deckard hummed. “You, too.”

~~~

The next morning, Deckard woke up with a raging hangover and laying on the floor of his living room. Gingerly sitting up, Deckard looked around for his phone, wondering what time it was. Sun was already streaming through the windows, only helping to make his headache even worse.

“Where the bloody fuck did it go?” Deckard hissed quietly, holding his head in one hand, and groping under the couch for his phone. Finally, slick metal brushed against his fingers and he quickly snatched up his phone.

It was nearly noon.

“Bloody hell.”

And then he blinked at the message from Luke.

Hope you slept well princess

Suddenly, Deckard’s headache didn’t seem so bad.

~~~

Curled up on his couch, Deckard sipped at his tea and enjoyed the newest episode of the crime drama he was following. Almost everything in the show was nonsense, but the characters were interesting and had unfortunately caught Deckard’s attention.

His quiet evening was interrupted by his phone going off.

Putting his tea down and picking up his phone, Deckard smiled at the screen.

It was Luke.

It was almost ritual at this point. Almost every day after Deckard had drunkenly called Luke, they would call each other, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. The only reason they hadn’t talked in the last three days was because Luke was undercover on a mission.

Answering the call, Deckard smiled wider.

“About time you called, twinkletoes.”

“Hey, Deck,” Luke wheezed.

Deckard’s smile dropped immediately.

“Luke? What’s wrong?” Deckard tried to keep his voice calm, but it was difficult as he felt a jolt of fear go down his back. Had the mission gone wrong?

“Things went a bit tits up,” Luke responded, his voice weak.

“What happened?”

“Someone leaked that I was a cop. I barely got out of there.”

“Are you hurt?” Deckard tried not to sound too panicked, but was sure it still came through.

“A stray bullet to the side,” Luke grunted in obvious pain.

“Where in the side?” Deckard demanded.

“I’m not a doctor, Deck. I’m losing blood fast, that’s all I know.”

“Is backup on its way?”

“Yeah. But not for a while.”

“Try not to move. And keep pressure on the wound,” Deckard hurriedly suggested, feeling his frayed nerves bristle at the weak chuckle Luke let out.

“I know, Deck. I’ve been in this kind of situation before. I know what to do,” Luke reassured him.

“Then why the bloody hell did you call me? You shouldn’t be talking and using up your strength,” Deckard snapped.

“I don’t know. I just,” Luke started. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Deckard felt his heart clench at those words.

“You idiot.”

“I know. But I’m your idiot,” Luke said, clearly straining to speak.

“Just stop talking,” Deckard pleaded. “Save your strength.”

“Then you talk. Tell me about your day.”

“Fine. Just promise me you’ll stay awake.”

“I promise,” Luke whispered.

Deckard talked about anything he could think of: about all the missions he did for MI6, about the recent heists his brother had just pulled, about the annoying neighbors across the street. Occasionally, he would hear Luke hum in response or give a one word answer, just to show that he was awake.

“I swear, I’m going to go over there and bash their teeth in one day,” Deckard groused. “Who the hell needs to play music that loud?”

He waited for Luke’s response, but there was silence.

“Luke?”

Nothing.

“Luke!” Deckard checked that the call was still going. It was.

“LUKE!”

“Deck?” Luke weakly coughed.

“Luke,” Deckard heard his voice break. “You need to stay awake. At least until backup arrives.”

“I can’t,” Luke slurred.

“You have to,” Deckard urged him.

“Deck, I…”

Then Deckard heard it.

Shouting.

“Luke! Is that your backup?”

All he heard was the sound of Luke’s labored breathing.

“Please, for the love of Christ, Luke! Please answer me!” The only thing that came through the phone was shouting, but it was still too far away from Deckard to make anything out.

And then nothing.

Looking down, Deckard saw that the call had ended.

He didn’t notice he had been crying until a tear fell onto the phone’s black screen.

~~~

Deckard kept calling Luke’s phone, but to no avail. He didn’t know anyone that Luke worked with. When he called Dom Toretto up, the man was clueless about Luke’s whereabouts and not even knowing he had been on a mission. Desperately, Deckard tried hacking Luke’s phone, but all that got him was Luke’s location, which was in Washington, D.C., where Luke’s mission had taken place. Half a world away from Deckard.

Luckily, it seemed like backup had arrived, because Luke’s phone was at a hospital, one of the best in the country.

Deckard didn’t want to admit it, but the whole time after their call had ended, Deckard had barely moved from his computer. He barely ate or slept, only staring at his phone and nearly begging it to ring.

It had been over twenty-four hours, and still no word. Deckard could feel himself going mad.

“If you don’t survive this, Hobbs, I’m going to bring you back from the dead and kill you myself,” Deckard growled.

When the thirty hour mark hit, Deckard decided that he was too jumpy to hold a knife. So, he went out, intending to grab something to eat, knowing that he at least needed to keep his own strength up.

He was halfway to the Gregg’s near his apartment when he felt his phone vibrate.

Nearly ripping his phone out of his pocket, Deckard had to try three times to actually hit the accept call button.

“Luke?” “Hey, princess,” Luke said quietly. And even though his voice sounded scratchy, Deckard could hear the energy in it. “Hope I didn’t scare you too badly.”

“Are you alright?” Deckard demanded, ignoring what Luke said.

“I’m fine, Deck,” Luke soothed him. “The bullet didn’t hit anything major. I just lost a lot of blood is all.”

“Oh, you just lost some blood?” Deckard sneered. “It’s not like you can die from that!”

Deckard glared at the people on the street staring at him. Can’t a man yell in peace? “Deck.”

“What?!” He snapped.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Deckard took a breath, about to start shouting again. But suddenly, the last day of worrying and no sleep crashed into him. He could feel himself wobble as he stood on the sidewalk, his head feeling like it was filled with cotton.

“If you’re sure,” Deckard whispered instead.

“I am,” Luke said firmly. “I’m sorry to make you worry, Deckard.”

“Just don’t do it again,” Deckard sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He began walking again, even though his legs felt like jelly from the relief that Luke was going to be fine.

~~~

Deckard was in his kitchen again, when he got a call from Luke. It had only been a few days since Luke had been shot and in the hospital having surgery. Putting down the carrots he had gotten out of the fridge, Deckard answered his phone.

“How are you feeling, twinkletoes?”

“I’m good,” Luke said. “But I’d be better if you opened the door.”

Deckard blinked.

“What?”

“Deck. Come open the door. I’m melting out here.”

Not really knowing what was going on, Deckard made his way to his front door. Opening it, he came face to face with one Luke Hobbs. Who held his own phone up to his ear, smiling down at Deckard.

“About time, princess.”

#shobbs summer fic exchange #shobbs #luke hobbs #deckard shaw #my fanfic #owen shaw #hattie shaw

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years ago

Note

mavinwood with werecat michael would be love

Oh my God, yesssss.

Just like.

Werecat Michael who never admits to being a werecat?

He’s careful with who he tells and everything because people tend to react badly when they realize the world’s weirder than they thought? That there are things and such out there science and logic can’t explain away and also hey, you know. Think twice before inviting some stranger you met at a club inside because vampires are real and that bit is true and anyway, tangent.

So.

Werecat!Michael who is just. So very Michael about being a werecat?

The whole bit with werewolves and other creatures and the lunar cycle isn’t completely untrue - but it doesn’t control their lives. They might get a bit more restless, short-tempered and so on closer to the full moon because it messes with their heads a little but it’s not like the movies say.

But, again, tangent.

Once he learns he can trust the Fakes with what he is he doesn’t bother trying to hide his secret from them but he also doesn’t outright tell them.

Because why would he, is the thing.

Sure, it’s partly to fuck with them because they’re all assholes and he’s no different. Also, it just never occurs to him to do so because it’s not all that important in the grand scheme and such?

Like oh, hey. Sure he can shift forms and turn into a cat pretty much at will, but it’s not like that means anything. (Can’t fucking use a gun or a knife without opposable thumbs - well, okay, there are probably ways around that but a cat would look pretty dumb like that so whatever.)

Anyway, anyway.

Michael who goes about his life like everything’s normal (and to be fair for him it is?) and every so often he just turns into a cat because why the fuck not?

It fucks with his mood when he doesn’t shift forms for a while, has him snapping and snarling more Makes him meaner when he doesn’t have to be or even wants to be.

So.

He runs around as a cat, wanders the city at night and the whatnot. Sniffs around the borders of the crew’s territory to make sure things are alright there. (None of their rivals getting greed or ambitious or whatever.)

Snoops around to see if he can pick up anything interesting in the way of rumors and such to bring back to the crew if it has anything to do with them.

Run around just to run around, kitty parkours his way around the city’s rooftops and alleyways and all that until he runs the restlessness that tends to build up when he’s in his human form for long out of his system.

Before he met Gavin and Ryan he used to go back to the little place he keeps in a quiet neighborhood when he doesn’t feel like using the rooms at the penthouse. (Spent too much time around the others and needs some quiet or whatever the hell and it’s just. Nice, you know, having a place of his own that isn’t a shitty little apartment now he can afford better and all that.)

But he did meet Gavin, and Ryan and it’s just.

Christ, those assholes.

Gavin’s one of Burnie’s people that Geoff poached right under his nose years ago. (Burnie and Geoff bicker about it to this day like an old married couple and goddamn they need to figure their shit out because it’s sad watching them pretend they’re not head over heels for one another, but tangent? Tangent.)

Ryan’s this creepy bastard Michael met way back when. Way before the Fakes, before the whole Mogar thing started or Los Santos heard about the Vagabond.

This idiot on a roof with a sniper rifle in the dead of winter - as much of one as Los Santos ever got, but it was particularly cold that winter. Snow and everything and this idiot, this goddamned moron wearing all black on a snow covered roof of all fucking things.

(Sure, sure, not like anyone could see him from that angle, what with him being on the tallest building around but Jesus Christ, okay.)

He was careful about it back then because who the hell knew if the idiot was the sort to hurt an animal for shits and giggles, but he couldn’t not investigate.

(It always pays to know as much as you can when it comes to what goes on in Los Santos, including idiots like this guy.)

Lucky him (or not, depending on how you look at it), Ryan’s not the sort to hurt animals.

Seemed surprised to see a stupid cat prowling around and started talking to him, because he’d been on that roof or a while before Michael came along. Got bored.

Talked to Michael like he could understand him, which odd but not unusually so? (Some people are just like that, which. Whatever. Means Michael hears things he wouldn’t normally and that suits him fine.)

Ryan isn’t dumb enough to talk about why he’s up on that roof, because he thought Michael was just a cat, sure, but had no idea if anyone else might be listening. (That, and he’s careful as fuck about shit like that, so yeah.)

No, Michael got to hear about how fucking cold it was and how Ryan wasn’t a fan. Like. Snow’s pretty and all? But he was a nice southern boy (only part of that’s ever been true) and wasn’t Los Santos supposed to be warm?

Got to hear about some shitty little car he stole off some poor bastard and the noise the engine was making and did Michael think that meant the engine was bout to explode on him or something?

Just.

Ryan talked a lot about a whole lot of nothing and Michael got to hear all about it.

Started sitting a few feet away from Ryan, overhang of a vent exhaust/whatever those things are called my brain is not working right now out of the wind but found himself moving closer after a while.

Ended up curled up next to Ryan at the end there, paws tucked under him because Ryan was right about the cold.

Didn’t startle when Ryan’s target finally showed and he fired his sniper rifle, no,

Michael looking over when Ryan stopped being an idiot and got serious, his quiet “Showtime,” right before he did his job and whatever poor bastard he was hired to kill got dead.

Michael watched as Ryan packed up after that, quick and efficient and not such an idiot after all. Followed along behind him as he climbed off the roof and made his way over to that stolen car a few blocks over before going his own way.

After that, well.

They just kind of kept finding one another, didn’t they.

Michael out aimlessly wandering as a cat or working for one asshole or another and oh, hey, would look at that. The fucking Vagabond. (Before the name, and then afterward right up until the Fakes approached him for a job and Michael’s life got a little more complicated.)

Gavin happened to Michael a year or two after he started working for Geoff. This little asshole that swept into town with that dumb smirk of his and stupid gold-framed sunglasses and looking like a fucking disaster waiting to happen.

Little idiot who had trouble with not being a complete piece of shit and Geoff fucking loved him. Thought he was hilarious as shit and please don’t kill the fucker, Michael, it’d be more trouble than it’s worth, trust me.

And Gavin, the asshole, latched right onto Michael and never let go. Thought he was hilarious with all his snapping and snarling and never once intimidated when Michael played up that reputation he’d picked up over the years.

Mean fucker, and one hell of an anger problem. Rabid bastard who needed to be put down but Ramsey kept holding out on that one, happy to set Michael loose on the crew’s enemies like a bullet from a gun.

No.

Gavin just ginned and laughed and fucking poked at Michael like he knew it was all for show. (It wasn’t, really, but for whatever reason Gavin’s wasn’t entirely wrong about Michael and goddamn him anyway.)

Gavin’s not as stupid as he acts and Michael knew it even back then.

(Geoff’s made mistakes, had lapses in judgement, but Gavin wasn’t one of them. Talented fuck with a knack for computers and not bad behind a sniper rifle. Prone to making bad decisions - reckless ones - when he wasn’t laser-focused on whatever he was dealing with because he’s smart as fuck and a bored Gavin is a dangerous Gavin.)

Michael found himself looking after the little idiot when he couldn’t be bothered to. Workaholic if they let him be, and once Michael found out he was a goddamned soft touch when it came to cats (or any kind of animal, really) that was the beginning of the end, really.

Because Michael liked Gavin pretty much from the start, right? But he didn’t like the way Gavin would work himself into the ground for the crew or some private project he was working on, didn’t matter.

Hand him something to do and if it was important enough or just interesting enough, he’d go at it until he couldn’t anymore, even - especially - if it wasn’t necessary.

So.

Sometimes Michael would go small and furry and visit Gavin at his apartment or his rooms at the penthouse. Wherever Gavin was holed up working himself half to death for no good reason and Cat at him.

Sprawl over his keyboard or stolen files or whatever the fuck he’d be working on refuse to budge until Gavin took a proper break.

Give him the sad eyes and non-stop wailing until Gavin got off his ass and got something to eat. (Feed Michael, really, but he always forgot to get actual cat food and would make him chicken or eggs or whatever he had on hand and once he started cooking realized how hungry he was and made himself food too, so. Yeah. Roundabout way of doing things but it worked.)

Or he’d just pester him long enough that Gavin couldn’t pretend to ignore him any longer and call it a victory when Gavin decided maybe he didn’t need to go back to his project afterward.

Just.

A whole lot of that over the years, and then Ryan joins the crew and Michael.

Fuck.

Michael still has two idiots to look out for (aside from the others, but tangent). Two idiots who need someone to look out for them and it’s.

A mess, for a little while.

Because it’s easier for him to keep an eye on them with them so close now, but also?

He realizes there are FEELINGS.

Because Ryan and Gavin and oh, fuck, suddenly he realizes why he even bothers looking out for them?

Like.

It started out nice and simple and just. Things got complicated all on their own.

Because he thought it was bad when the two of them had never met, but once they did?

God.

They got along like a house on fire (in every possible meaning) and it was terrifying/fascinating to watch happen because.

One, Los Santos is in very real danger with the two of them. And two? Michael’s stupid fucking heart is nowhere near as confused as it should be.

Because Ryan and Gavin and Michael has no time for love triangle bullshit, okay.

He knows what he wants - or would like, really, but no knowing how they’d feel about things and anyway, anyway, he’s never been that lucky.

SO.

Pretend he doesn’t know what he knows and everything will be fine.

Really.

Only, that bit about his life being a fucking disaster after Ryan and Gavin happened to him and just.

Yeah.

He watches the two of them get all nice and cozy together and figures that’s that, you know? Which is fine, really, because he’s happy that they’re happy and other cliche things.

Doesn’t change the fact they still need someone looking after them because God knows they can’t do it to save their own damn lives and all.

And then there’s.

Gavin’s overworking himself or Ryan’s off being Ryan for a job Geoff sent him on and someone needs to check in on Gavin.

But.

He doesn’t realize Ryan got back to town early, finished whatever job he was sent on and hightailed it back to Los Santos because he’s spoiled now, you know.

Gets to come back to someone waiting for him instead of an empty apartment and that’s a hell of a lot better than some shitty motel room somewhere. Wroth driving all night to get back to it.

And wouldn’t you know it, Gavin’s playing with a cat when he gets home.

This oddly familiar little bastard he’s known for years now. Kind of grumpy, little bit cranky but soft and sweet and what are the odds Gavin would also know this cat?

Michael is just watching Ryan process things. Also aware of Gavin doing the same and being all oh, fuck in his tiny werecat head because he done fucked up, didn’t he.

Got used to pestering the fuck out of them as a cat because it was easier? Like. He did the same as a human, got them out of their heads or whatever was needed and all that, but it’s always been different when he was a cat.

Because cat, really.

Only now he’s got the two of them giving him these Looks and it might have been different, being around them as human!Michael and cat!Michael, but not as much as you’d think.

Whichever form he’s in, he makes sure Gavin eats and drinks and fucking sleeps. Doesn’t let him get stuck in his head or get (too much) of a swelled head when he’s riding high.

For Ryan, well.

He’s never been scared of the stupid bastard. Wary, sure, before he got to know him because people will surprise you, but he’s never been scared of him.

(Also, the whole looking after him because goddamned idiot and all)

Gavin picks him up - and Michael lets him because what is he going to do at this point, scratch the asshole? - and studies him closely.

Cat!Michael’s not much to look at really.

Brown tabby with white markings and you’ve see one, you’ve seen them all, or however that saying goes.

Still.

Gavin’s looking at him like he’s something special.

Looks over at Ryan who’s gone all kinds of quiet and thoughtful and just as Michael’s about to start squirming out of Gavin’s hold, the asshole starts talking.

Something, something, something about this matter the two of them have been meaning to talk about for a while now. This problem they have because wouldn’t you know it, they’re happy little relationship isn’t quite?

Michael is Conflicted because he shouldn’t be hearing this, like for real?

And while he could slip out of Gavin’s hands and fucking run for it, he just.

Doesn’t.

Lets Gavin pull him close, hold him against his chest while he and Ryan go on and on about this problem of theirs and most of it’s not registering because he’s having a moral and ethical quandary and such?

But then one of the assholes says his name and Michael - the idiot he is - looks right at them.

And Gavin - because of course it was Gavin - grins a little and asks Michael what he thinks about things and Michael doesn’t get it right away.

No.

He just stares at Gavin who looks back, this dumb little smile on his face. then he looks at Ryan who looks.

Well, the bastard looks amused, and that’s as annoying as it always is, until what they’ve been saying finally, finally fucking processes and Michael realizes they’ve been talking about him?

About how they’ve been trying and trying and trying to woo him the past however long, Inviting out on on dates - which, to be fair, neither of them came out and said and he just thought they were grabbing lunch or going to see a movie they were all interested in and so on and oh, fuck, did he catch their stupid somehow?

It’s painfully obvious in hindsight they’ve been wooing him and he’s been so in denial about such a thing ever happening he never realized?

Just.

Pining like an idiot while they’ve been fucking wooing (attempting to woo?) him and wow. wow, he really did catch their stupid not to pick up on any of that.

Oh, and also the thing where they know Michael’s the asshole cat who keeps popping into their lives, but mostly it’s the wooing thing he completely missed.

And then, you know.

Gavin and Ryan being bastards and telling cat!Michael all about how dumb human!Michael is like they’re not the same person to the point Michael’s tempted to scratch the fuck out of Gavin’s stupid couch.

But that would be stupid, because Michael actually likes the couch - it’s super comfy - and also for all the two of them are being assholes about things?

They’re super fucking nervous, scared.

And Michael, okay.

He gets it, he does.

It’s scary as fuck and God knows if it would work, but it sounds. It sounds nice, like something he’d love to make work if they’re willing to try? (And they obviously do, because the wooing thing? So.)

Michael wriggles out of Gavin’s hold and bumps his face against Gavin’s and meows because that’s not a completely terrible idea, this whole relationship thing he’s been talking about? And then he does the same to Ryan, because for really reals, Ryan and just.

Kind of weird, what with Michael being a cat at the moment? But somehow they make it work.

Also, the three of them seeing how long it takes everyone else to realize Michael’s a werecat because they’re horrible, horrible people. >:DDDDDDD

#ragehappy #mavinwood #freewood #background geoff/burnie #anon #werecat aus #prompt fills #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#Anonymous

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 5 years ago

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Too Good To Be True (part four)

A/N: Your meeting with the director of the restoration board doesn’t go according to plan, causing you to question everything- your job, your judgement...even your relationship. Can Benjamin convince you that you don’t have anything to worry about?

Word Count: 4,522

Sorry, no nerd content this time.

Standing in the restoration room behind closed doors at the british Museum, shaking hands with Julia Day, you tried to recover quickly, but felt your eyes go wide and your mouth drop open. What the… Your heart leapt into your throat and you tried to force it back down into place so that you could speak. She’s the… no. Letting go of your hand, she fixed you with a smile that was almost predatory, like a cat that had finally caught a bird and was watching it flap in pain before devouring it whole. “Something wrong?” she asked finally, an air of victory in her tone that made you flinch internally. “You seem confused. You knew we were meeting today, did you not?”

Clearing your throat, you managed a smile and hope it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “No, nothing’s wrong.” That’s a lie. “I just didn’t know it was you I’d be meeting with.” She let out a small laugh and raised her eyebrows, as though she hadn’t cryptically kept her identity from you through the application and hiring process. “Did I miss a joke?” You kept the smile even though it was making you nauseous to do so.

She shrugged. “I’m just surprised that you didn’t know, is all.” How would I know? You refused to reveal your name. She dropped her arms, hands clapping her thighs and eyebrows jumping from one rung of her wrinkled forehead to the next. You kept your lips pressed tightly together as you watched her walk up to the long table in the center of your work space. “Surprised no one told you.” Told me..? Her fingers trailed along the flat surface, skirting around your tools and little glass pots of cleaner and polish and sealant. “You all seem so…” All? Your heart was pounding between your ears, dizzying your brain. What is this? She brought her eyes up to yours, narrowing them just enough to ignite a small spark of spite. “Close.” She finished her sentence with a tilt of her head as she picked up one of the sconces you’d been working on earlier. Don’t touch those. You took an instinctive step towards the table, hand jutting out in front of you as though you were going to snatch the piece away from her like a protective pitbull for handling it without gloves. “These are really something, aren’t they?” Setting the piece back down on the cloth where she found it, the woman flattened her hands on the table and leaned over them.

You cleared your throat, determined not to let your confusion or unease come through your tone. “Ms. Day,” You shook your head and spread your hands before stepping up to the table opposite where she stood. Placing your own palms across from hers, you sighed. “I’m not sure what you’re implying. The only person I was in contact with for this job before today was someone called Steven Burns from the museum’s department of donor relations.” You narrowed your own eyes and gave a curt laugh, despite the way that your insides were starting to churn. “And he and I are decidedly not close as you put it.” I can play games, too. “So I’m not sure who you’re referring to.”

Julia frowned, the glow of your work lamp casting shadows under her sunken eyelids. “Come now, dear, I’ve seen your resume.” She dropped her voice lower. “You’re smarter than that.” Turning, she continued walking around the table until she’d come back to your side. You clenched your teeth and crossed your arms over your chest, focusing on breathing steadily through your nose. “You know who I’m talking about.” No. She’s… he would have told me. You didn’t respond quickly enough so she let a short burst of air out as she shook her head. Pushing a tangled tendril of frizzy curls back, she continued. “I know my son isn’t very forthcoming with information,” she bit the words and you could taste their bitterness on your own tongue. “But I thought surely Benjamin would have told you.” You couldn’t help the twitch of your lips at the sound of her voice speaking his name, and you knew Julia caught it, her own lips curving upwards in a small but satisfied grin. “Thought it would have come up.” She paused, temporarily returning her attention to the items on the table behind her. “Unless he was worried about how you’d take it. You know,” she gestured with a twirl of her wrist, then looked over at you. “Or maybe you don’t yet, but Benjamin? He’s not to be taken at face value. There’s a lot he doesn’t share.”

You were stunned, seething and feeling small beneath the boot of the woman who stood before you, but you wouldn’t let that stop you from standing up for the man that you loved. Even if he did know… You pushed that thought away as quickly as it came. He didn’t, though. He doesn’t. You narrowed your eyes and stuck your chin out in a show of defiance. “You’re right, Ms. Day. He’s not to be taken at face value.” She nodded, then, that look of satisfaction growing on her cheshire cat face, which you were only too happy to erase with your next words. “He’s much more than that. But surely you must have figured that out by now.” Your heart was thudding uncontrollably with nervous rage. Am I about to be fired on the spot? If you were, you could think of a few more choice words to share.

Julia flinched, wrinkles gathering near her pursed lips only for a split second before she tossed her hair over her shoulder and focused her wild eyes on you. “You think you know him?” She scoffed. “You weren’t married to him. You can’t possibly know him like I do, and-”

“Ms. Day?” You refused to humanize her by using her first name, recalling what Benjamin had told you about how she’d never even taken his name after the wedding- not even adding a hyphen. Still chained to your first ex- husband too, I see. “I understand that we both know the same man.” You watched mild disappointment change the set of her brow as she realized that you were going to put up more of a fight than she thought you would. “I fail to see what Benjamin has to do with the job that I was hired for though. Now, if you’d like to go over my portfolio, or ask me anything about-”

She took a step forward then that was almost a lunge, barking out her words like a rabid animal. “I’ve seen your resume, seen your portfolio, like I told you. I know you can do this job, just like I know there is a stack of other portfolios in Steven’s office that represents dozens of others who could be here instead of you.” She came closer, a more controlled motion this time. “I don’t need to ask you a thing about this job. You’re here for one reason and one reason only-”

“To point out that you forgot to detail the corrosion on piece S-327?” You cocked your head to the side and swallowed the emotions you were feeling, letting them fall into your stomach to dissolve into the roiling acid Julia had churned up. “You know, Benjamin mentioned that you were a conservator once.” It was finally her turn to be completely caught off guard. He tells me things, you crazy old bat. “I know it was,” you raised one arm and gestured in a circular motion, “Years ago,” her nostrils flared and though you were still reeling from this entire confrontation, you were glad that you’d gotten to her. “But I would have thought that even back then you’d have been required to include corrosion and other such damage in your notations. You did do the notations that were sent to me, didn’t you?” Her face dropped completely and you knew you’d won this hand. “Unless, and this would be...wildly unprofessional for someone in your position, but I can’t see how you could have made that mistake, unless you were hoping I’d miss it, too and that I’d somehow boggle the restoration.” You dug for the strength to smile at her. “But the thing is, Ms. Day, restorers? We’re all conservators, too. So your notes and your pictures,” shoddily prepared as they were, “They don’t scratch the surface of what I do. But the surface of that sconce that you neglected to note? I caught it. I caught it before it was too late to save the piece, or the person’s job whose responsibility it was to document.”

You watched as the well-worn scowl retreated and her lips came together in a thin line. For a few agonizingly long moments all you could hear was the buzz of the lightbulbs overhead and the far off sounds of conversation from another office. You felt yourself tense up, coiling like a cornered viper, waiting to see how she’d respond to your counter. Just when you started to wonder if she was going to speak again at all, she addressed you using your last name in a quiet hiss that sent a chill slithering down your spine. “This is a six week assignment.” A measure of time that once felt like it would pass impossibly quickly now felt like a lengthy punishment. You recalled your words to Benjamin when he worried about how his memories with Julia in the museum might taint your experience. Don’t let her ruin this. But here she was in the flesh, trying her hardest to ruin not only your time here, but also, it seemed, your relationship with him. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” Do I? Before you could even reprimand yourself for giving her another inch of space in your mind, she was striding passed you, stopping at the door to spin back and deliver one last blow. “I’ll see you Wednesday for a status update.”

You didn’t move or breathe until you heard the door to the hallway open and shut, echoing in the nearly empty wing of offices. Once you were sure that she was gone and you were alone, you let a rush of air free from your lungs in a shuddering gasp. The whole confrontation - meeting, it was supposed to be a meeting, not- left you dizzy. This isn’t… this was the farthest thing from… Six weeks of that? Six weeks of her and… You inhaled shakily. He didn’t know. There’s no way. He’d have told me. But the seed had already taken root in the fertile soil of your brain, and you knew that even though you didn’t believe her, you had to ask Benjamin. Wincing, you imagined the look on his face when you brought it up, and though you hated the idea of needing verbal confirmation from him, you knew it was the only way to weed out the venomous thing she’d planted. I don’t doubt you, B, I just need to hear you say it.

You felt the hot sting of unwelcome tears burning in the corners of your eyes as the rest of what the woman had said sunk in. She only picked me so she could… this isn’t about my qualifications, this is… I’m not here because I deserve to be. I’m here because she… Squeezing your eyelids shut you refused to let yourself cry until you were out of the building. Glancing at the clock you saw that it was after 6pm which was the latest you were required to stay as per the terms of your contract. You’d planned to stay later, wanting to get as much time in on your first day as you could. But the realization that this accomplishment was a sham felt like a kick to the stomach, and you suddenly needed to be anywhere but where you stood. You quickly closed up jars, rinsed off brushes and organized your tools, slipping them into their case with a sad sigh. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you wiped at your eyes to remove any stray wetness before interacting with security. Looking back at the room as your hand hovered over the light switch, you couldn’t help but feel as lost as the treasures before you. Flicking it off, you plunged the room and your thoughts into darkness and hurried for the anonymity of the bustling sidewalk to let the dam break and your emotions flow.

.. .. .. .. .. .. ..

Perfect. He smiled as he adjusted the loose bouquet of tulips in the glass vase he’d borrowed from the hotel. Bright pink, peach and yellow bell shaped blossoms fell naturally atop long green leaves and stems. Her favorite. The woman at the desk had been only too happy to lend the receptacle when she caught him trying to press the button to call a lift, balancing the bouquet, a bottle of champagne, and a grocery bag full of berries and chocolates. He’d explained to her that it was a big day as she helped him reconfigure the items in his arms while he waited for the elevator to arrive. “What’s the occasion?” She’d asked, handing the wrapped bouquet back to him.

He beamed. “The woman of my dreams landed the job of hers and she started today.” And I can’t wait to see her face light up when she tells me about it.

The hotel employee mirrored his grin, letting out a long “Aw,” and promised to send up a lovely vase for the flowers and a full ice bucket for the champagne. She passed her congratulations to you through Benjamin, and wished the two of you a wonderful evening. It will be. He thanked her for her help and continued on up to get the room ready.

It was nearing 6:30 when he finally finished. Having accepted the vase and bucket from the room service attendant, he arranged everything on the dresser, including the tray of sweets and fruit. Standing back, he smiled again, imagining your reaction. “Benjamin, you didn’t need to do all of this!” You’d laugh, cheeks turning a shade that would rival the blossoms and berries as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Of course I did, love,” he’d say, scooping you up only to dump you on the bed a moment later. “And that’s just the beginning.”

For so long before he met you, Benjamin felt like he’d been running. From the past, from the future, from the inevitability that nothing gold can stay. But lately he’d been overwhelmed with the feeling of beginnings, even though you were coming up on your first anniversary together. He’d accepted that he was done with beginnings, done with good things outside of academia. But then you came along and changed everything. Suddenly every day became the start of something new, and suddenly that didn’t terrify him. Because we’re in it together. He plucked a raspberry from the tray and sampled it, daydreaming about your next new beginning.

The mechanical whir of the lock followed by the slip of your card key being retracted from the slot caught him off guard. Huh, thought she would have called to let me know she was on her way. Because neither of you had conventional work hours and never knew when you’d be done for the day, you’d formed the habit of calling or sending a message to let the other know when to expect you back. He chalked it up to excitement making you forget, and turned toward the door, still chewing the berry he’d popped into his mouth a moment ago.

“Hey,” he took a step towards you, eyes narrowed and forehead furrowed. What’s this? The excitement he felt as he readied the room for your return vanished in a cold rush as a pit started forming in his gut the second he saw the salty streaks on your face, cutting through the bronze dust coating your cheeks. Why is she..? You closed the door, wordlessly flipping the lock as he took another step. This isn’t how I... “Hey,” he said again, adding your name as he raised his right arm and reached for you. Despite having been together for just shy of a year, Benjamin had only ever seen you this upset once or twice. He couldn’t fathom why today of all days would end up being one of those times. His hand closed gently around your arm, fingers sliding up your bicep as his thumb tucked into the crook of your elbow. Looking up, your red rimmed and puffy eyes met his and his heart clenched at the sadness he saw there. What’s happening?

You still hadn’t said a word, and as you slipped your arms around his waist, Benjamin realized you hadn’t even made a sound. Not a whimper, not a sniff, not a shuddering intake of breath. Something’s wrong, something… this is… He tripped over his thoughts as he wrapped you up and pulled you into his body. This was supposed to be her dream. One hand came up to stroke your hair, but before his palm made contact he felt your chin move against his chest and he froze as you spoke. “Tell me you didn’t know.” Your voice was quiet and thin, a tinge of defeat in your tone that he’d never heard before only worrying him further.

What is she talking about? His head spun as he tried and failed to answer that question. Throat dry from the absolute shock of seeing you in the exact opposite state he expected you to be in, he swallowed and let the hand that was headed for your hair fall to your shoulder. I saw her a few hours ago and she was fine...happy...I… With a soft push he peeled you away from himself so that he could look at you; so that you could look at him and see the truth in his eyes. He shook his head. “Didn’t know what, love? What’s happened?” You winced, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you tried to bury your face in his shirt again, but he stopped you. “Hey, no, come on,” he brought his hand up to tilt your face towards him before leaning in to kiss the crest of your cheek. “Please,” he whispered against your skin, “please tell me what happened.”

You opened your eyes then and fresh tears rolled down the tracks that had been laid by those that came before. “I’m sorry, Benjamin, I… She said that you…” What? Why is she apologizing… wait...who said… “She said that you knew, but I should have known she was lying, I…” Oh, no. No, no, no. He still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but that pit that started forming in his stomach tore wide open, filling with acidic venom that could only come from one source. Julia. “It’s her, Benjamin...she’s...she’s the one that…”

She’s the director. His heart sank as he ran through the implications of that realization, looking down at you. And she wanted it to look like I was keeping that a secret. “I swear I didn’t know,” He promised, pushing away the initial hurt of your momentary disbelief. It’s not her fault. He knew how well-versed in guilt and manipulation his ex-wife was, knew that she was trying to create a rift between the two of you. Instinctively he tightened the arm that was still around your body. I won’t let her do that. Letting you tuck your face against his chest again, he rested his chin atop your head, the smell of paint thinner and polish mixing with your almond scented shampoo as he inhaled.

“I know. I knew she was lying but I,” you took a shaky breath that made him ache.

“Shh,” Replacing his chin with his lips he laid a soft kiss to your hair. “It’s alright, you knew she was lying.” You trust me, I know you do. “She’s… she’s good at tricking people.” He winced. She had me fooled. “Good at hurting people.” The fact that she’d hurt you was unacceptable though, and right next to the ache he felt from seeing you this way, a swelling anger was taking up residence. She won’t get away with this.

“She…” You pulled back, wiping your eyes and looking up at him. “Benjamin, she only picked me for this job to get to you.” You shook your head and he saw your eyes go dim, the defeat in your tone making its way into them. “I didn’t earn it, I don’t deserve-”

“Don’t do that.” He cut you off, not willing to let you go down that road. He shook his head and locked his gaze with yours, shifting his hands to your arms. Taking a few steps backwards, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you down next to him. Leaning in, he brushed a strand of hair that had escaped your bandana back and out of the way, fingertips lingering on your skin. “Don’t do that to yourself. You deserve this. You have every right to be there.” He saw you take a breath as though you were about to start a long string of protest, but he stopped you again. “I know you think that...that the only reason you were chosen for this is because of what Julia told you today.”

You shrugged and nodded. “It is the only reason.”

No. “She may have suggested you to the board,” he let his hands slide down your arms until they met yours, and pulled your palms into his lap. “But they had to review your portfolio. They had to pass it on to the Museum director.” Julia likes to think she’s more important than she is. “There’s no way this decision was made solely by her.” He let go of one of your hands and used it to tilt your chin so that you had to focus on his next words. “She doesn’t matter that much. It’s not some tiny exhibit on display in a broom cupboard.” He felt some relief as he saw some light come back to your eyes. “This is one of the most important historical finds of the decade, at one of the largest, most prestigious institutions in the world. There’s no way you’d have gotten this job if you didn’t deserve it.” No matter how much money she throws at it, she can’t buy that much power.

You sighed as his fingers left your face, and you leaned your body into his. Benjamin instantly wound his arm around you. “I guess.”

“You guess?” He squeezed his hand where it rested near your hip before tugging you down to lay on the mattress with him, both of your legs still bent and hanging over the side of the bed. A small gasp of surprise left your lips in the form of his name, and despite everything he was feeling, the sound lightened his heart the slightest bit. “Well, that’s fine that you guess, but I know.” You turned your face towards his and he closed the distance, kissing you softly. “I know no one deserves this more than you. I know you’re the best for this job.” I know I’m going to have some words for Julia… He touched his forehead to yours and brought his hand up to untie the knot in your bandana, letting your hair tumble free. Tossing the green fabric aside, he pulled you even closer, until you were resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry that she’s doing this to you.” That she’s doing this to us. “This is your dream, and she’s not going to ruin it for you.” He shook his head even though you couldn’t see. “Don’t give her that power. Nothing she said has any truth to it at all, she’s just…” he sighed and felt you adjust your position, turning on your hip and laying a hand on his abdomen. “She’s jealous and... vindictive.” His top lip curled on the last word. “She’s the complete opposite of you, and she knows that. She knows she could never measure up to you.” Not in a single sense.

Your tears had subsided, no longer soaking into his shirt or staining your face, but he knew he hadn’t completely turned the tide, knew that it would take some time for you to process everything he’d told you, everything she’d told you, and how you were feeling about it all. He knew it would mean a few rocky weeks, and while he hated that, he knew that as long as you kept trusting him and as long as he kept reinforcing that trust, that you both would be alright. I’ve never had that before, this is… he looked down at you. This is it. Benjamin knew that someday this would be behind the two of you, and that there would be bright new beginnings on the horizon. He held you until the sky turned a deep indigo outside the windows, the room silent aside from the occasional clink of the ice in the champagne chiller melting and shifting. He would have stayed there with you all night, intermittently leaving kisses or whispering assurances against your skin, but eventually you spoke, breaking the silence. “You got me flowers…”

He’d nearly forgotten, entirely focused on soothing you and swallowing down the hurt and anger he’d felt at first. “Oh...yeah, I…”

“Tulips are my favorite.” I know. You sat up, leaning on your elbows and glancing first at the flowers and then back at him. Even in the state you were in you were gorgeous. She puts those flowers to shame. “They’re beautiful, Benjamin, thank you.”

He sat up too, twisting to his side to face you. “This is all going to work out, you know that, right?”

You nodded, lips pressed together to keep from crying again, but this time the hopeless defeat was gone from your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, lifting one hands to trace the top of his ear with your fingers. “I know it will.” Leaning in, you brought your lips to his, his hands going to your waist as you kissed him. “It will.” It wasn’t a fix all. He knew that you were still upset, still hurt and disappointed by how this new beginning was shaping up, but he knew that as long as you were a team, there was nothing you couldn’t overcome. And I’ll always be on your team. “I love you,” you whispered against his lips, slipping your shoes from your feet and curling back down over top of him.

“So much,” he responded, holding you once more. So, so much. Tomorrow he’d figure out what to do about Julia; how to respond, how to protect you from her wrath. But tonight would be this- not the champagne, celebration and laughter he’d imagined, but something deeper, something more long lasting. Something good, even on the bad days.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @malionnes @becs-bunker @warriorqueenofnarnia @elanor-of-imladris @traeumerinwitzhelden @songtoyou @michellemybelles-world @obscurilicious @breanime @octosapiens

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed! (and if you’ve already let me know and i didn’t make it happen…oops! i’m sorry and disorganized.)

#too good to be true #TGTBT #benjamin greene #benjamin greene gold digger #gold digger fanfiction #benjamin greene x you #benjamin greene x reader #julia day #leo day #yo julia you barked up the wrong tree ma'am #this is going to get ugly #fucking yikes

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 5 years ago

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Pour Some Salt on Me || Matty and Kaden

TIMING: Present LOCATION: Soul on the Rocks PARTIES: @likeamattoutofhell and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Matty meets Kaden at the bar and deals with some of his baggage. AKA: Did someone order a Margarita? Extra salty?

It wasn’t often that Kaden spent a free night at a bar that wasn’t the Silver Bullet but he was always up for something new and different. Plus, for all he knew, he could be walking into a prime opportunity for hunting. Not to mention, he could always use a few more drinks to deal with everything that had happened in the past week. Mimes. Wings. Banshees. Werewolves. It was too much. He could use a normal night. The bar was loud. Very loud. It was going to take a lot for him to concentrate on any conversation and not get overwhelmed. He took a deep breath. It’d be fine, as long as he was prepared. He saw a guy at the bar, pretty sure on the end he was supposed to meet him. “You Matty?” he asked. “Kaden. Aka that guy whose dog found a fucking head the other week.” He almost added ‘not a mime-fucker’ but then he thought better of reminding anyone of that before needed. “How’s it going?

So. This had been a day, hadn’t it? Or, well. A night. But, at least some shit didn’t change. Soul on the Rocks was still standing, and nobody gave a crap how you came. Which was good, given that Matty looked a little like a half-drowned poodle, his hair still damp and curling, crazily, from his make-do shower at the pool. Whatever it took. Bit into his budget a little - man, everything cost more, these days - but he was two rounds into the special, and had enough left over for a few more. Solid. He’d just raised a hand for another when some… guy, sleek, sharp-faced, dropped onto the stool next-door. Kaden? Right. Maybe into mimes? According to the internet, but. Couldn’t believe everything you read, duh. “Yeah, that’s - yeah.” The vibes, on this poor bastard. “It’s… going, alright.” Why not shoot the shit? There was plenty of it. “Pipes in my place are, uh. Under reconstruction? Got real messed up last week, full of something fucked, I don’t know. At least the neighbors aren’t, you know, weirder than usual.” Which had been saying something, alright. But he’d draw a line, sure, at suddenly taking up miming. At other people. In the hallway. Matty shrugged, vaguely. “Same shit, different day, around here. How about you, man? What’s up?”

Kaden raised a brow and gave the guy a one over. “I can see that.” The guy looked rough, alright. Soaked and a little bedraggled. “Bad pipes, huh? What happened? Do you live anywhere near the funeral home by chance?” He almost asked if it was vampires or necrophages since that always seemed to be the cause of leaky pipes in buildings. Occasionally pixies. Usually dead things. But he thought better of it. That joke only landed in a hunter bar, really. He waved down the bartender and ordered a beer, wasn’t sure he trusted the liquor to be drinkable let alone mid shelf. “I’m alright. Less severed heads in my life so that’s been good.” A lot more wings and banshees and death but it was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine. He gulped down a sizable portion of his drink. “I mean, yeah. It’s been a fucking week. Got attacked by the wo-- an animal in the woods the other night. Nearly fucking died. So I’m sure yours is going better than that. Least I hope so.”

Funeral home? Matty frowned, faintly, not sure what that was supposed to mean. “Don’t think so?” Hopefully that was a no. Not somewhere he needed, or wanted, to hang around. With actual corpses. “Just some shithole, you know what it’s like.” Fuck, it was a shame you couldn’t smoke in bars anymore. Still had some of that good weed, from Margot, kicking around. And he was itching for something, anything. Matty gave the bartender a seriously grateful nod as the next Moscow mule landed, shaking off a sudden, cold shiver. A bad one. God, he’d have to get ahold of Felix. Soon.

But. A couple drinks wouldn’t hurt, and the company probably wouldn’t. Jury was out, as of yet.

“Solid.” Less body parts flying around in general, the better, yeah? Elbow up on the scratched-to-shit counter, he took a long, needsome drink, hearing Kaden out. The wo-what? His head tilted, there, doing some wo-wondering. Not too much. His week. Where to start? With the waiting to find out if a couple super scary motherfuckers were going to duke it out to the death over at Hanging Rock, come the weekend? Hanging around a psychotic old-ass leech with fancy tastes? Getting thrown out of a tree by a bloodsucking... monkey, with iron teeth, or some shit? No, thanks. “Oh, totally.” Matty tossed off a tired sorta smile, and raised his glass. “Here’s to - death-defying, huh? Life goes on.” Close enough. “The hell were you doing in the woods, anyway? Nothing but crazy and mosquitoes out there, seriously…”

Kaden nodded at his current companion’s words. “Ah, not related to that then. Nevermind. But yeah, I do know how that goes. Surprised I don’t live in a complete dump here, but I got paid a little more than I’m used to when I took the job at Animal Control.” Out of the sheer desperation they had to fill the position. He felt a chill run through him before taking another sip of his beer. Strange, was the door open or something? He looked back but that was stuoid, it wasn't even that cold out anymore. Odd. Must have imagined it. Or the beer was just really cold.

“To deth-defying.” Kaden raised his glass in a toast and gave a small nod. And a wince as he lifted his arm. Side still hurt, he almost forgot, despite toasting his near death. “I was camping. Didn’t want to stay in my apartment any longer.” He gave a shrug. The details weren’t ones he was ready to dig up so soon. Or share in a bar. At least not this sober. “I’m also in animal control so I’m there a lot anyway. Got attacked by an animal.” Explaining what it was seemed unnecessary. Most people accepted “animal” right off the bat, anyway. “You ever had any near death experiences?

Lauren Langley couldn’t stand to watch this any more, this fraternizing with supernaturals that her son kept indulging in. He'd made his choice to turn away from his duty. He didn’t even do a basic check on this man to see the glaringly obvious. The man at the bar was obviously undead. Kaden should have been able to listen and hear the hollow emptiness where his heart should be beating. And yet he sat there, toasting, making small talk. Disgusting. Disgraceful. She could no longer contain the anger raging inside of her. She pushed out her power, let her anger extend outwards and the lights started to flicker, the sound cutting in and out, as she floated towards the man in question, standing between him and her son, glaring daggers at him that she knew he could see, the blood sucking filth that he was.

Animal Control. Okay, then. Matty’s eyebrows slid upwards, but, hey. Whatever paid the bills. Not like he could talk. “Well, hey. Nice.” Did he want to know about… dogcatching, or whatever this guy got up to? Not exactly, but - he’d always been curious. “Seems like a rough gig. Especially in this town, fuck...” Christ knew what kinda freaky shit Kaden had to deal with, on top of bears, and cougars, and rabid raccoons. Had to feel a little sorry for him, yeah?

Cheers, anyway. To camping, too, sure. Whatever the dude was into. “Cool, yeah. I get that, man. Space. Nice thing to have.” Matty drank. And twitched, as the electricity fritzed. Weird. He blinked, throwing an uncertain glance over the rest of the Rocks, watching as the jukebox glimmered in and out, the static sneering into his too-sharp ears. Near death. With a shook-out laugh, Matty turned back to try and field that one - only to find some lady. Some ghost lady, all silvery; more substantial than most, though. Nobody he knew. Right? No. He was pretty sure. But that stare. The grin was staggering away from him, on its last legs. “A… a couple…” Leaning back on his stool, Matty cleared his throat. Took another drink. “Animals, yeah.” He was stumbling, quailing under those eyes. Maybe they weren’t, you know, familiar, but. If looks could murder. Violently. “Maybe we oughta take this outside?” Matty winced, suddenly, sliding to his feet. Ghosts got stuck to places, didn’t they? “Just, seems we’ve got some… fucky wiring, in here. I mean, this joint’s probably a total fire-trap…”

Kaden froze, glass at his lips, as the electricity cut in and out. For half a second he wondered if this was just a result of shoddy wiring. This bar wasn’t exactly high end or upscale. But the shocked looks and startled reactions from everyone around him gave him the feeling this wasn’t a typical occurrence. Putain. He really wanted a night off from the supernatural. Didn’t look like he was going to get it. It seemed like his present drinking buddy was looking through him or around him. Hard to say for sure, but it didn’t seem like his eyes were meeting his. Hmm, maybe his near death experiences were a hell of a lot worse than Kaden’s. Shit, might have hit a nerve. “You alright?” he asked, brow raised as the guy started to freak out. “Yeah, I noticed.” Kaden glanced around the place, didn’t see anything else strange, but there was a bit of a cold spot as he stood to follow. “I’m guessing this isn’t normal for here. Got any better suggestions?” Bullet was out so he supposed it was another night at Dell’s. He shrugged as they headed outside, could be worse.

He wasn’t going to get away so easily. Lauren knew he saw her; he must know her feelings as well. Or at least sensed them. And she hadn’t even spoken yet. “Leaving so soon, vampire?” she asked, smirk on her face. “I wasn’t finished here.” Her voice was laced with venom, but it was still and even all the same, cold and poisonous at the same time. Once again, she pulled into her anger and used it to send the unused glasses from the bar exploding out in every direction, but most of the glasses aimed at the vampire. Unfortunately, her son, too. But he could tolerate the pain. And maybe it would give him a hint to either leave this loathsome creature or, better yet, kill it. She disappeared a moment and then flashed back in front of the vampire, spectral face inches from his. “My son may not put a stake through your heart. He’s gone soft, you see, but I sure will. Better yet, I’ll make sure he does.”

“Me? I’m good, yeah, just...” Haunted. “Honestly, I…” Matty trailed off, a shudder creeping down the back of his neck, all the way. That kind, he realized, now. He’d met his fair share of ghosts. Or, well, his unfair share, depending on how you looked at it. This one was - well, bad fuckin’ vibes, all over, was what she was. Why the hell was the vampire thing her problem? Matty tried to pin his attention down to Kaden, hurriedly tugging his ratty denim jacket on. They’d just fuck off, and he’d try the Rocks again… in a week. Or two. A month from now. Oh, that would blow.

Not as hard as the fuckin’ rain of glass that shattered over them. Matty had heard them rattling just in time to turn, barely soon enough to drop, shoving Kaden by the shoulder, turning his back into a storm of smashing tumblers and sharp edges. Ears ringing, hands shaking - bleeding, somewhere, he could smell it already - Matty gasped out of it, and pushed away across the sticky, glittering floor as the ghost gathered in front of him, face to face. Son? His eyes ticked to Kaden, quick. Back. Yeah, around the eyes, he could see it. Just his fuckin’ luck. Getting in the middle of some kinda family drama.

Wait. Wait, wait. Gone soft? Too soft for staking. Shit. Slayer family drama? Just his fuckin’ luck.

“Listen, I don’t - I don’t know you, or him, or… what your problem is, I...” What he did know, was salt. Salt for ghosts. How, specifically, not so sure. But the salt would be behind the bar - he’d downed enough tequila here to know. Behind the bar, where he was going, fast.

“Shit!” Kaden shouted as he saw the glasses rumble. He raised his hands to shield his head and found himself shoved down out of the way of the oncoming onslaught of glass. White hot pain from his side flashed through him as he twisted and ducked. After the deafening crashes of glass came the screams as patrons started bolting for any exit they could find. Couldn’t blame them. As Kaden stood up straight, his brow furrowed, another wince of a pain, and yeah that was definitely blood dripping along his hands. Fuck. “You o--” He started to ask his drinking buddy as he tried to evaluate the extent of his wounds. Minimal, thankfully. But his words cut short as the other man started speaking to the air.

“Who are you talking to?” Kaden asked, brows furrowed, and stomach sinking. He had a feeling he fucking knew who the hell it was he was talking to. Putain. Also that meant this guy could see ghosts. Well that narrowed it down a little. Medium maybe? Zombie? Wait what was he going for behind the bar? Shit, time to pull a knife out, just in case. He grabbed a standard blade first but started rummaging in his pockets. Had to have an iron one on him somewhere.

“Oh, how cute. The bloodsucker found the salt,” Lauren smiled and shook her head, arms crossed in front of her incorporeal body. “Do you really think that will stop me?” Lauren disappeared and sprung back next to Matty’s left, voice slithering right into his ear. “I need you to tell my son something, you filthy animated corpse. Before you turn to dust.” She vanished again and reappeared on his other side, eyes fixed on Kaden even though he couldn’t see her as she spit more venom into the vampire’s ear. “Tell him he should have been better. And that he’s all but proven he’s no son of mine.” Her visage was gone one more for the moment. With a loud crash, half the tables in the bar burst, sending drinks and food tumbling to the floor and wood shards flying in every direction. If that wasn’t a hint for her disgrace of a son, nothing would be.

Shit. Pawing around behind the counter, Matty was doing his best to think, clearly, with blood on the air. Human blood. He’d eaten earlier, but - pig, or something, whatever Nic had drained into those juiceboxes. Not enough to keep the good stuff from being distracting. “Uh…” He stammered, hearing Kaden. Asking a totally sensible kinda question, in the middle of something not sensible at all. There - pinch-bowls of salt. A couple went spilling onto the counter as Matty flinched, that chilling, creeping not-breath riding up his spine again, that hiss an itch across the back of his neck. Tell him.

Oh, this cow could eat it.

“Fuck off, Jesus!” He rasped, flinging a handful of the stuff. Where she’d been, anyway. God, usually ghosts were chill. Why’d he have to wind up drinking with some hunter who had poltergeist-grade baggage? Snatching up another desperate handful of salt, Matty glanced Kaden’s way. Or, almost. Everything went to shit, before he got a good look at the guy. Again. Worse. The back-mirror splintered and sheeted apart as pieces of table and chair stabbed through, into the wall, quivering furiously. “Your mom!” Shouting over the noise, Matty cowered behind the bar, panting hard and panicky from where he’d hit the dirt. “I swear, man - that’s what she says...” Why she felt the need to let him know, well. That, Matty sure as shit couldn’t answer.

Kaden was still fumbling for anything iron when the tables exploded. He dropped down and ducked, once again using his arms to shield himself. Fucking shit. This had to be an angry spirit, right? Shit, he was so far out of his depths here.

He shot up at the man’s words. “My mom?” His brow creased and he looked around, as if he’d be able to see her. “Putain de merde!” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. He had a feeling that was the case. He really wished it wasn’t. Fucking fuck. “Circle yourself in salt!” he shouted

Wait. Did that mean?

No. That. No. It couldn’t be.

As soon as her son froze, Lauren knew he’d figured it out. She’d hoped that he would, maybe a little sooner, but her faith in him had waned. “Do it, mon petitou. Do it.” She whispered in his ear as if he could hear him. All she needed was for him to stake one measly vampire and then she could move on. Maybe.

Kaden shook off his stupor as he felt a chill creep down his spine. There’d be time to evaluate this later. Right now he needed a plan. And to figure out how to stop this. “Want to tell me why the fuck you can see ghosts?” he shouted to Matty. “And why my mother is pissed as shit at you. And me. But you seem like the cause here, too.”

Lauren could feel the rage building up inside her again. Why was he talking? Why wasn't he acting? She threw back her spectral head and screamed, pushing her anger out to shatter all the glass and windows. It lashed out and added more scrapes and cuts to her son’s body. She didn’t care anymore if her son bled. Maybe then this vampire would show its true nature and Kaden would remember that he was meant to fight monsters, not protect them.

Circle of salt. Right. Ghosts, couldn’t cross. Only, then he would be stuck, here, in deep with Langley, who - who, whatever he might be, had shit going on that Matty wanted fuck all to do with, frankly. No offense to the dude, just. No. Kicking some of the wreckage aside, Matty scrambled to draw that circle out, wincing as his supply ran a bit thin. It’d be enough, right? Maybe. He’d stretch it. Did he want to tell Kaden why he saw ghosts? Like hell, if Mama Langley’s hate-on said anything about how she’d raised her son. “It’s, uh - genetic!” Matty shouted back, a little frayed about it. Seemed to work for Nora. Though, Nora was a pretty shit standard for what totally normal people would believe. Obviously. Fuck.

The hot, spattery smell of blood sharpened up, suddenly, tugging at Matty’s teeth until his jaw ached. “I don’t know, man! Maybe she’s just a raging bitch?!” No, the guy didn’t need to hear what mommy dearest was going on about. He shook his head, woozy - a sluggish lick of dark blood dribbled down the side of his cheek, dead and cold. And tried to fix that fucking circle.

Kaden was getting fucking sick of playing duck and cover with a poltergiest. The wounds probably wouldn’t take too long to heal but it still stung. In more ways than one. “Genetic?” Had to be a medium then. Why the fuck was she so mad about a medium? Then his mind jumped to Blanche. Whatever it was, it had to do with her, right? And certainly Regan. There was no doubt there. Fuck. They had to get out of here, but he knew damn well his mother would follow him if they just cut and ran. He had no iron on him. And funny enough, rock bars weren’t exactly filled with it. He looked around on the floor, between the shattered tables and fallen plates, he saw something. A fucking margarita glass. Rimmed with salt. Plastic. Never been so happy to be at a cheap fucking bar. He grabbed it and started swinging it wildly, wielding it like a weapon. “When you see her disappear, fucking run!” he shouted, whirling around the room and waving the salt rimmed glass around.

The hell was Kaden up to? Peeking out around the counter corner, Matty strained to keep his boots in the circle and his eyes on the action. Which was something to see, for fuckin’ sure: Langley, swinging like a drunk playing pinata. Right across his shrieking-mad mom, the spiderwebby substance of her rending apart. And not coming back. For a beat, Matty couldn’t believe it. But, he didn’t have to. Unfrozen, he lurched alive and out - the shattered front window, the shortest path to away from all this. Stumbling wildly into the parking lot, Matty hit the asphalt at a sprint, with a skitter of glass, and didn’t stop. Not until he was far, far away from the blood, and that mess of a bar, and Kaden Langley’s totally batshit mommy issues.

#wickedswriting #chatzy #writing #pour some salt on me #matty #likeamattoutofhell #lauren langley

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peaches-of-1 · 5 years ago

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Peachtober | Day 23: Crinkle

Reader x Werewolf!Jimin

Genre: Fluff

A/N: I did my best not to use he/him or she/her when refering to the reader, so please let me know if I did so that I can fix it.

The day starts as usual, with a pair of black pants being slipped on and the routine of teeth brushing. Laptop is dead, so you decided to leave it home as you begin making a quick microwavable breakfast of Hot Pockets. Two and a cup of whatever drink you have left in the fridge. You do the daily makeup look you’ve gotten used to doing since moving to Seoul due to a teaching job you found no joy with.

Still, the Korean city had claimed your heart and so you were lucky enough to get a job at one of the many coffee shops around town. It had been open for hours already as you were part of the afternoon/late shift. After the meal is thrown down your throat, you quickly tie up your work shoes and catch the bus with all of the other college students who are continuously cramming for the next test.

A little hop to the pavement, a turn to the left, pass the nail salon and vintage clothing store lies a tiny store where you were currently making a living.

Casual greetings all around as the manager tosses you an apron, “With Y/N here, I’m gone for the evening. Goodbye, everyone!”

Her and her husband must’ve gotten in a argument and not speaking because those were the only times she left when you showed up.

“What is it this time?” You asked the only other part timer there.

Big brown eyes and shaggy blonde hair was making yet another Brown Sugar Expresso, “Oh, um. Not sure. They’ve been fighting all day.”

“Ahem,” The manager said.

Jimin looked at him innocently, “I said nothing.”

Both waited for their boss to pass by before asking.

“You think this might be the breaking point?”

He laughed, “They’ve reached this point several times before, so I doubt it.” and then he smiled at the young man waiting for his coffee. “Enjoy your drink.”

“Thank you!” He replied in hesitant Korean.

The blonde boy began to set up the fresh batch orange crinkle cookies and then began to sniff, ending up near your cheek. You asked what he was doing, making him jolt backwards.

He looked at the floor and then back at you, “Sorry. You just. You don’t smell like honey today.” and quickly, he busied himself with eating one of those cookies for himself.

“I decided to actually have a real lunch instead of bread and honey today.” You said, blushing. “I didn’t know you noticed.”

The dark skinned man approached the counter again, “Can I have some napkins, please?”

“Here you go.” The blonde said, giving him several.

“Thank you!” he said with a smile and went back to his laptop.

“Jimin-ssi, you should get his number.” You said, nudging him and boxing up a dozen donuts since a regular would be here rather soon on the way to an office meeting.

Jimin shook his head, “What? No. I couldn’t.”

“But he’s totally your type.” You glanced at the man with coffee bean skin.

“I mean, you aren’t wrong, but I have someone I already like.” He said as you rung up the young woman with short brown hair and glasses.

You looked at him, “Oh, really? They must be the luckiest person in the world to have your affection.”

“Well, I don’t think they know. I have secrets that I don’t want them to be a part of. Secrets like how your crinkle cookie recipe is the best thing I’ve ever had.”

You smiled. Then the bell on the door rang as another regular came in which made your heart jump. They were so cute and suave, but not your type. Still, he was very handsome and always showed up in a crisp suit usually with some sort of unique pattern on it.

“I’ll have a--”

“Pumpkin Spice Caramel Latte with extra foam?” You replied. “It’s easier to remember because you always put your own spin on the seasonal specials.”

He smiled, “Yes, and with a--”

“Chocolate cinnamon bun? Coming right up.”

The Korean blonde man snuck another cookie as Y/N served their obvious crush. Their customer had to know that they were into him. It was clear to Jimin as he worked on cleaning a now empty table with a pencil left on the floor that he’d just put in the lost and found for whenever the woman came back. However, the pencil smelled strange. It was moist smelling...ah, it seemed that she liked to bite on her writing utensils.

“Jimin-ah, can you make some more muffins, please? We’re running out.” Y/N called as they approached the table of an elderly woman who came here ever since her daughter was in middle school.

The daughter rarely came here anymore, busy travelling according to the mom.

As the day went on, the two worked well. The other owner left to go buy flowers for his wife since he felt bad. He told Y/N to lock up since Jimin had to leave earlier. The young blonde had been nervous all day, knowing he would have much time after work to go to the store and then get home before he--a gentle hand scratched the back of his head, calming him down.

“Are you ok, Jimin-ie?” Kind eyes asked the now smiling face.

“Y-yeah. I’m just behind on groceries.” He replied. “I have a big meal to make.”

Y/N nodded, “You really like meat, don’t you? I remember your friend Taehyung visiting and handing you a lot of meat last month. A cooler of it or something. Is it already gone?”

Brown eyes glittered as he nodded at you, “Y-yeah. I do like meat a lot.”

The last customer left, and it was an hour until closing. Jimin could tell Y/N was looking for something inside of her mind. Thinking deeply.

“I’ve got this. You go do your shopping..”

Jimin asked, “Really? It’s not safe for you to be by yourself for so long, and I am supposed to walk you to--”

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I’ve got my phone on me, and we’ve got tons of knives.” Then Y/N motioned into the corners. “Also, cameras.”

Quickly the man left and then felt his torso for something. He circled around the lockers in the back, like a dog chasing his tail. Then the sparkling trinket of a wolf necklace was dangled in front of him.

“The chain broke and it landed in a drink during our daily rush. I’ve been keeping it in my pocket. Almost forgot about it.” the beautiful coworker said, placing it in Jimin’s small hand.

“Th-thank you, Y/N.”

Then soft hand felt his head, “You’re not getting sick, are you? Your voice is deeper than usual.”

The young man covered his mouth and quickly gathered his stuff as he talked rapidly, “It’s nothing. I promise. Even so, I should go to the doctor’s and get it checked out, but only if it gets worse. I’m sure I’ll be better by tomorrow. Just tired. Sometimes voices get deeper when the person is tired, don’t you know. Um, anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call me. Be safe. Ok bye.”

And out the door he went.

You blinked and smiled. Jimin was an adorable coworker, always so excited to see you and very good at following orders. Almost like a puppy, especially when his hair got shaggy. Even the way he often pushed back his hair was like a dog scratching at his ear. Since things were slowing down, you decided to begin the nightly shut down of all the machines since you wouldn’t be cooking or baking anything else for the night.

The time ticked by, and then it was time to lock up. You jumped over the counter and turned the sign. The only things left on were the lights and the speakers as you blasted your favorite K-rock songs as you swept and mopped. You were thinking about your Halloween costume since your friend was holding a party at her place on the spooky holiday.

Maybe you’d see if you could fit your old maid costume or see what outfits went well with a pair of leggings. Nothing too important or special. Just a chance to get drunk with candy corn flavored vodka and cinnamon soju made just for the fall season.

Last thing you had to do was throw out the trash, so you turned off the lights and the speakers and threw your messenger bag on before heading out, making sure to keep the left over blood orange crinkle cookies. You had given the café the recipe, yes, but you yourself hadn’t had the treats in a while.

However, you heard the clanking of trash cans. Was it another cat or a stray dog? Two eyes glowed back at you once it noticed another being near it.

“Ya! Get away from there!” You called, too tired to think about the danger of approaching a potentially rabid animal.

It seemed to back up, though. Then you turned on your phone flashlight, allowing you to confirm the animal was not a cat. It was bigger. It was much bigger than you had seen any dog. Not just any dog. Wolf. It was a full grown wolf that seemed to be not just beast, but had human like legs covered in tan fur. It got on all fours as if faced you. It fan towards you, and you thought you were a goner. Instead, the creature dashed away, but not before you caught the glimmer of silver with green emerald eyes.

That was Jimin’s necklace around that thing’s neck. You ran after it without any hesitation, forgetting about the trash and not realizing that somehow you’d have to fight a wolf to get back your co-worker’s iconic necklace. It wasn’t running as fast as you thought a beast like that could go, so he was easy to catch up with.

The wolf was hiding behind a tree whining.

You held up your hands, “Hey, you have something that belongs to my friend. I just want it back and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“I’m...so...hungry. Stay. Stay back!” It growled.

“So you can talk…” You looked around and saw a nearby convenience store that was still open, such as most things were. “Stay here.”

You quickly went to the store and bought all the stale and warm fried chicken you could afford. Then you dashed back and placed the buckets near the tree and said that you were going to back up. However, you were not given the chance as the form lunged at the poultry. It was no mistaking it now in the moonlight and the street lights. This was a werewolf, something you believed to only reside in fairy tales and fiction of tradition.

There was nothing you could do except watch as it swallowed most of the food whole and spit the bones to the side. Once it seemed to calm down a bit, it waved its tail as it sniffed around your bag. You gave the creature the box of orange cookies that resided inside, the only thing it could be smelling.

“Thank you.” The werewolf said. “I forgot to stock up food and began to wander.”

“You’re welcome.” You replied with a smile. “I should get home, but I need that necklace around your throat. It belongs to a guy I work with.”

It retreated when you said that, starting to stand and walk away.

“Oh, come on. He might like me back if I return it to him.”

The creature stopped in his tracks and asked, “You like him?”

Your cheeks became heated. Did you really just tell something like that to a stranger? A werewolf too?

“Y-yeah. He’s a dumb guy I work with, really sweet. I’m not his type. He’s out of my league, but I would be happy enough if he were grateful to me. He wears that every day. The chain snapped earlier, and I’m sure you just found it near the building, so please.” You stuck your hand out.

“You’re not out of his league. He’d be lucky to go out with a person like you.” His body language was almost...shy?

You laughed, “How could you know?”

“Because I’m him.” He turned around and you saw the unmistakable brown eyes of your coworker. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Jimin.”

“...what?” You blinked. “You’re joking. Just give me the necklace, and I--”

“You come in everyday smelling like honey because you put it on your toast. You memorized the order of that cute business man because you think he’s cute, totally your type. You always make sure that secretary's order of donuts are ready for her ahead of time. Y/N, please believe me.”

By instinct, you stepped back when he stepped forward.

He sat down, “When you scratch the back of my head, I love it the most.” and he got into a non-threatening position.

You approached cautiously and scratched the back of his head. Just like Jimin, he closed his eyes and smiled, putting his head back as to get more of your touch. It was him.

“So, I’ve got a crush on a werewolf.” You laughed at yourself. “Seems just about right.”

“Would you like to have a werewolf boyfriend?” He asked.

You shrugged, “Sure. Why not?”

#BTS #Jimin #Park Jimin #Bangtan #Jimin x Reader #Reader x Jimin #nb!Reader #Female!Reader #Male!Reader #enby!reader #non gender specifc #Werewolf!Jimin #Human!Reader #Afterhours #food mention #food tw #Day 23 #Peachtober #Inktober

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halfbloodglader · 6 years ago

Note

Can I request something REALLY angsty with gally x reader where ben goes crazy and attacks her instead? You write gally very well. You write all of the tmr characters very well. thank you for your work!

Gally x Reader - You Could Have Waited, 2,285 words

As if he was destined to live an awful life, Gally always felt like the world was against him. He struggled to make and keep friends, always wound up hurting himself on accident, and always let the wrong words past his lips. It wasn’t that he meant to, but he felt like he had no control over what spilled out of his mouth sometimes. And, because of that, his defence mechanism had turned into a deterrent which made everyone fear him. Based on the fact that he lived in an inescapable stone box, he wouldn’t be surprised if the people who had put him in here with no memory were also able of controlling what he said sometimes. It was like the people who put him in this place wanted everyone to hate him.

Gally was kind. He was brave, and he was hardworking. He didn’t always come across like that to the other Gladers, though.

There was one person who managed to see past his rough exterior. It was Y/N, the Glade’s only girl.

Like the universe had it planned to play even more cruel tricks on Gally, the gardens were perfectly positioned across the Glade from the homestead where Gally worked. There was Y/N, tying vines with Newt and Zart, her soft laughter wafting across the Glade.

The builder nearly jumped out of his skin when a tap came at his shoulder. He turned to find Alby standing there with a smug smile.

“Newt said there was an incident in the gardens and there are some repairs needed. Go check it out, will you?”

Taking a deep breath, the builder mustered all of the confidence he could. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

For Gally, it felt like he’d fallen into a trance while walking over to the gardens. When he arrived, he didn’t even remember the trip over, but he was met with Y/N sooner than he had hoped.

“Hey,” Gally nodded and tilted his nose to the sky in order to keep his head up a little. He had no clue why he did it, maybe it had always just made him feel tougher. “Alby said something needed fixing?”

“Yeah!” Y/N laughed lightly and grabbed Gally’s arm, making him flinch. She brought him towards the wreckage and he was finally able to breath again when she released his arm.

“Ah, Y/N, what the shuck did you do?” He gained the confidence to tease Y/N a little and regretted it once he felt her first collide with his arm.

“Nothing! It was Zart!” She crossed her arms. “And me. A little…”

“You crashed into it.” Zart snickered.

Y/N grumbled. “You pushed me!”

“Touche.” The blonde track-hoe went back to weeding the carrot patch, laughing to himself.

Gally looked in amusement to Y/N for a moment, his knees almost buckling at the sight of her face scrunched up in anger. It wasn’t a vicious or mean kind of rage at Zart, more of a playful one. She was probably plotting her revenge against him. Maybe a bucket of water over the head or worms in the gardening gloves. Whatever it was, it must’ve been good because she smirked to herself.

“What?” She asked, a brow cocked as she stared at Gally blankly.

“N-Nothing,” He brushed it off and turned to the damaged lattice. “You’re just—uh—you’re cute when you’re mad.”

When he saw Y/N’s face fall, that was when he realized what he’d said. “Wait—no! I mean—I don’t—“

The sheer look of horror on the girls face was soon replaced with one of amusement. She laughed a little, brushing it off. “Anything I can help with?” She redirected his attention.

“Uhh, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You see the lumber over there?”

Y/N nodded, eyeing the pile of wood Gally pointed to. “Mind bringing over a couple pieces?”

“Sure!” Y/N happily obliged, running off on her mission.

Gally had been working for close to five minutes and Y/N still hadn’t returned with any of the lumber. He knew it shouldn’t have taken her any longer than a couple of minutes, so he began to grow suspicious of where she’d gotten off to. Y/N wasn’t a slacker so Gally knew she wasn’t hiding in the shade somewhere taking a nap.

When he heard the screams, he knew something had gone wrong. Very, very wrong. Those weren’t normal screams coming from across the Glade, they were deep, guttural and nauseating. Obviously they weren’t coming from Y/N, but…

Then he saw it. Ben was chasing Thomas, the new greenie, out of the woods. Of course, Y/N being the girl she was, had to jump right in and save Thomas.

“Ben!” She yelled, running alongside the tall, blonde runner. “Ben stop it! Thomas didn’t do anything!”

Something about that statement had lit a fuse in Ben because his full attention was now on Y/N. His body twitched like a rabid animal and he lunged forwards, knocking Y/N to the ground.

“Shit!” Gally yelled, taking off across the Glade as quick as he could. “No, no—Newt! NEWT! HELP HER!”

He watched as Ben clambered over Y/N and began striking her face repeatedly with already bloody fists. From as far off as Gally currently was, he could hear Y/N’s cries for Ben to stop between hits. It was as if he could feel every single strike Ben sent down upon Y/N on his own skin, stinging him like little tongues of fire.

Y/N fought back with a force Gally never would have expected to come from her, but it was nothing compared to the complete mad man on top of her who currently seemed to feel no pain or remorse.

Gally could run, but he could only run so fast. His legs only carried him towards Y/N so fast and the only thing he could think of was that he would never be fast enough. If it weren’t for Newt swooping in and taking ben down with a hit to the head with a shovel, Gally knew things would have turned out much worse.

The impact of Newt’s hit was barely enough to disorient Ben long enough for Gally to ram straight into Y/N, throwing her back into the grass a few feet. It was just far enough so Ben couldn’t reach her again, and Gally sat there with the girl beneath him, his body shielding hers until he knew the other boys had Ben under control.

“Someone get him!” Gally demanded impatiently, and luckily, some of the boys were already on it. Alby’s hollers could be heard from a little ways off and Newt was shouting orders.

Once he knew it was as safe as it could be, Gally loosened his grip and looked down. There was Y/N, curled up beneath him with her eyes shut and arms over her head. Blood was still dripping from her nose and bruises were scattered across her face. “Shit Y/N.”

Y/N shakily forced her way to her knees and turned around. Gally, however, wasn’t about to let her go incase Ben decided he wanted to take another few shots. He had her trapped in his arms as they watched the situation before them unfold.

“Hey, uh, you can let go.” Y/N was breathing hard, and even though she’d sent out words that sounded confident and put together, the grip she had on Gally’s arms which were wrapped around her shoulders said otherwise. Her fingers dug into his skin and her head fell back on his chest, unable to hold it up on her own.

Gally was glad he didn’t release her because if he hadn’t had a strong hold on her, she probably would have thrown herself right back into danger. Newt and a few of the other builders were now holding Ben down, pinned completely to the ground as he wailed in agony.

“HEY! STOP IT!” Y/N screamed, her voice so sharp is cut at Gally’s skin. “YOU’RE HURTING HIM!”

Y/N kicked and thrashed, fighting with all of her strength against Gally. The builder wanted just as much as Y/N for Ben to be put somewhere safe until they could sort this out, but the Gladers had to restrain him one way or another so he didn’t hurt anyone else. He’d already done enough damage to Y/N, but she was so wrapped up int he situation she either didn’t care or she didn’t notice.

“He’s stung, Y/N!” Gally made sure he forced out the words loud enough so she’d hear it over the commotion. “You really want them to let him go now?!”

She didn’t respond which made Gally certain he’d gotten his point across.

Standing there and staring at Ben and feeling Y/N shake under his arms, Gally forgot how quickly his life could be turned upside down. He’d forgotten how little it took to make him hate the world, the creators and everything that happened to him. The ease at which resentment, fright and hostility could swell in his mind and body scared him.

Right now, he needed to get away. He needed to let his friends deal with Ben and his job was to now take Y/N away from what she was seeing. Without thinking twice, Gally picked the girl up and tossed her over his shoulder, making his way toward the medjack hut. He ignored Y/N’s cries and the hitting to his back and continued walking as far away from Ben and the others as he could.

“Alright,” Gally stopped and let Y/N down from his shoulder, setting her in the grass outside of the medjack hut. “Stay here while I go get some things.”

He waited for Y/N to respond but she just stared blankly out into the Glade in shock. “Y/N.” He said louder.

That caught her attention, but Gally almost wished it hadn’t. Y/N looked up at him with hazy eyes brimming with tears. She looked broken, lost and like she was about to pass out. She looked far, far different than from just ten minutes ago when she’d walked off with a wide smile on her face.

“Stay here, okay?” Gally choked back, waiting for her to nod. She did and so he made his way into the medjack hut, gathering supplies as quick as he could.

When he made his way back out, Y/N was sitting cross legged in the grass, desperately trying to wipe the blood off of her hands. She was panicking, the severity of the situation now settling in. One of the Gladers she knew the best and for the longest was now stung and had attacked her so viciously it was obvious he was out of his mind.

“Hey, hey—“ Gally knelt down beside Y/N, taking her hands in his and waiting until she stopped struggling. “It’s going to be okay. We need to get you fixed up.”

“I’m fine, let’s go—“ She tried to get up but Gally knew she’d try and was ready to push her shoulders back down.

“No you’re not.” He looked her deep in the eyes and made her focus. “You’re hurt bad. So just…let me look after you, alright?”

Y/N softened under his grip and she gave up. “Ok.”

Gally sighed in relief and started at Y/N’s legs, wiping away the dirt and mud, moving up her her arms which were also covered in dirt, but making sure to wipe away the blood on her hands first. Then, he reached her face, scanning it over sadly.

His expression told Y/N things didn’t look good. “Is it bad?” She asked.

Gally pressed his lips together and carefully began to wipe away the blood. “He got you good a few times, I’ll tell you that much.”

Y/N huffed and winced when Gally got a little too close to the split skin at the end of her brow. “Ouch.” She whimpered. “I don’t remember it hurting that much a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, your adrenaline is wearing off.” Gally explained as he continued to work. “It’s gonna hurt a while.”

Y/N sat placidly, obviously thinking, her mind spinning in circles.

“Don’t ever do that shit again, hear me?” Gally spat. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“He was going to hurt Thomas!” She fought back. “I had to do something.”

Gally took in a sharp breath and tried to relax himself. “You could have gotten help first, alright?”

Y/N lowered her gaze in a mixture of shame, guilt and a fear of looking Gally in the eyes.

The builder gently wiped away one last streak of blood before lowering his hands. “All I want is for you to be safe. This place isn’t anything without you and wasn’t anything until you got here. If I—if we lose you, things won’t be the same.”

“Thanks Gally.” The corner of Y/N’s mouth lifted into a sad, sore smile.

Smiling back a little, he put his hands on her shoulders and ran a thumb over her cheek. “We’ll figure this out. But stick with me until we know it’s safe, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Y/N agreed. It was gong to be a long day working with the others to decide Ben’s fate. Truth was, they already knew what it was going to be. But, Gally knew that at each others sides, things might just pass by as bearable.

#the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #the maze runner imagines #the maze runner x reader #tmr gally #gally the maze runner #gally imagine #gally x reader #the maze runner gally

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kiwisfics · 6 years ago

Text

Marvel Preference - How You Meet

F/N - First name

L/N - Last name

F/A - Favorite animal (or any animal)

E/C - Eye color

Bucky Barnes (MCU)

(Time frame: Post Winter Soldier, Pre Civil War/reuniting with Steve)

“Wait a minute!”

The pounding on your door had shook you from your sleep, worry welling up the moment you glanced at the clock on your bedside table. It was far too late for a visitor to mean anything good. In your hurry to get to the door, you’d tripped, catching your arm on the corner of a table as you had.

Finally, after battling your way through the dark of your home, you threw open the front door, one hand clutching an open cut and looking the very definition of a mess.

Still, even in your state, you couldn’t resist being surprised at the appearance on the man on your doorstep.

“I thought I was having a hard night.”

A rough laugh came from the stranger, “Sorry to prove you wrong.”

You stepped to the side and motioned him in, though you noticed the way he hid his right arm. He wasn’t as smooth as he seemed to think he was.

“So, what exactly is the Winter Soldier doing standing outside my door?” Immediately, he tensed, panic clear on his face, “You can relax, I don’t have any desire to have government agents crawling around. I only just got myself out of SHIELD.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“I blame the hair. Try a man bun, no one would expect you to be running around with one of those.”

“Noted.”

You laughed as you pointed in the direction of your sofa, “I’m going to get this cut cleaned up. Do you drink tea? If not, I can start a pot a coffee.”

“Either’s fine.”

“Got it. My name’s [F/N] by the way.”

“You can call me Bucky.”

“You’ve got it, Buck.”

He couldn’t help but smile as you gave him a playful wink.

Clint Barton (MCU)

(Time frame: Pre-SHIELD collapse, post Avengers)

Being a SHIELD agent wasn’t always trouble after trouble, just as—you assumed—being an Avenger allotted some time away from the front line in favor of some much deserved rest. Your job, like any, though it allowed for much more action than most, still had times where paperwork and meetings made for a day that dragged on and on.

And this was one of those days.

You shared a short lunch break with a few fellow agents, none of which ever spoke to you, spending even their breaks with faces shoved into documents. You often wandered if the paperwork became more interesting the higher your clearance level was, they certainly couldn’t be so focused on paying for yet another building leveled by yet another Avenger incident.

After another uneventful lunch, you began the trek back to your office. There was much to be grateful of in your job—your own office included—but every job seemed to suck the life out of you after awhile.

As you meandered your way back to your office and the paperwork residing there, you happened to run into someone.

Both parties stumbled back a few steps, apologies spilling as you each took in the other.

It took only a second for you to realize who you’d bumped into.

“Hawkeye! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was- I-I’m a big fan! Of you! Not just the Avengers, even though I am a fan of the-” You breathed out a sigh, covering your face as you attempted to regain any of the professionalism that you had once thought you had, “I’m sorry, let me start over. I’m [F/N] [L/N]. And I am an agent, despite acting like a rabid fan.”

Hawkeye, who had maintained an amused grin throughout your tangent, offered a hand, still smiling as you shook it, “Don’t worry about it. And you can call me Clint.”

“Clint, right. Pleasure to meet you.”

Johnny Storm (Fantastic 4)

(Based on the original F4 movies)

When a flaming anything comes crashing through your bedroom wall, you scream. It’s the natural response. When you realize it’s a man you momentarily question your sanity. And, finally, when said man ends up passed out on your bedroom floor surrounded by destruction, you’d normally call an ambulance—or would you? How often does a flaming man crash through someone’s wall? Unfortunately, whether you wanted to call an ambulance or not, your only phone had been pulverized when he flew through the wall.

Who had a landline anymore? It wasn’t your fault.

You dragged the man—who was easy to identify as the Human Torch—onto your bed and began to search his body for injuries. The injury that had knocked him out was quite easy to find, a large laceration on the back of his head, clearly from when he’d flown through the wall. You had expected more, considering the man had flown through a wall, after all.

You cleaned up his wound with all the skill of a random citizen having a superhero falling into her care.

It wasn’t more than an hour or so after that he shot straight up in the bed. His eyes immediately landed on your form, your feet perched on the back of a chair and your head on the footrest. An open book was in your hands, but it was forgotten the moment he awoke.

“About time you woke up, I was beginning to get worried.” You gave him a smile. “I’m [F/N] [L/N], the woman you owe a wall.”

“I’m Johnny Storm.”

“I’m well aware, Mr. Human Torch.” You motioned to the part of your floor he’d landed on, burn marks standing out against the hardwood. “You owe me floorboards too.”

Logan Howlett (X-Men) (Time frame: Pretty much any. Post Origins and the first X-Men)

Your story wasn’t unique in the world of Mutant and human conflict.

Your parents had kicked you out the moment they discovered you were a mutant—class A parenting, if they asked you—and that led you to pick-pocketing and stealing to stay alive from day to day.

You didn’t like it and realized that you had no more of an excuse than anyone else on the street, but you had to get money somehow and people weren’t exactly fond of your kind. Mutants were given the short end of the stick at every turn and you doubted that would ever change.

More often than not people were more than willing to offer you money, at least, after you showed them your fangs.

You didn’t think twice about who you were stealing from a majority of the time, you got them alone, bared your fangs, and then were on your way. That was that. You also didn’t think twice about your reputation spreading around, but it was, more than you could imagine.

You were at a bar one night, as usual, waiting for one of the drunkards to go wandering out on his own, the prime opportunity to snatch a wallet with nearly no repercussions. When you were confronted by a man, you hardly flinched. “Are you [F/N]?”

You looked up at the man without the slightest concern on your face. He was larger than you, but you’d robbed far bigger men than him. “That depends. You a cop?”

“If I was, don’t you think you’d be in handcuffs by now?”

“I suppose.” You hummed, before offering a Ganges grin, “Alright, alright, yeah I’m [F/N]. [F/N] [L/N]. And you would be?”

“Logan Howlett.”

“Logan? I think I just might remember that.”

Loki Friggason (MCU)

(Time frame: Fight with Hela in Ragnarok)

It wasn’t the first time you’d fought alongside Thor. You were an Avenger after all—well, honorary Avenger according to Tony, not that you ever paid much mind to his taunting.

You’d been with Bruce when he’d vanished, that much you knew, but you weren’t sure how much time you had lost in between that and regaining your sense of self.

You understood Bruce’s struggle better than the others ever could.

While you weren’t a “rage monster”, the moment your subconscious perceived a threat, your form was overtaken by that of a giant [F/A]. You and Bruce had bonded over this fact, leading to a duo of giants always ready to have the other’s back.

You’d never had the opportunity to meet Thor’s brother, something that your team often forgot, considering your own sibling-esque relationship with the Asguardian.

You hadn’t expected your first introduction to the supposed villain brother to be him announcing himself as the Asguardian people’s savior.

“You’re Loki?”

“Yes. And you are?”

“[F/N]. I’ve got to say, you’re not what I was expecting from the man who tried to enslave Earth.” He didn’t have time for a response, not that you cared to wait for one yourself.

Amidst your own fighting, you found yourself aside Thor again, “That brother of yours is a real charmer. Your savior is here! Is he serious?”

With a loud laugh, he tossed a comeback, “He can be very theatrical.”

“I think that’s a bit of an understatement.”

Peter Parker (MCU)

(Time frame: After Ned finds out about Peter being Spiderman)

Changing schools in the middle of the year always brought with it more turmoil than was necessary. You knew that better than most, after all, this was far from the first time you’d faced a mid-year transfer.

Still, it grew easier with each transfer and, you’d begun to realize, the older you got the more other students just began to ignore your presence. It was a lonely existence, but one you had resigned yourself to.

Besides, this would be your last move.

Finally, after years of being tossed from one school to another, you were sent to stay with your [relative].

Still, the first day was like many before it, lonely and awkward as students would offer you fleeting glances before returning to their own groups. With any luck, you wouldn’t paint a target on your head to attract those of the students that would just as well bully you as let you alone.

“Um, hey,” you toyed with the straps on your bag as you approached the least occupied table in the lunch room, uncertainty in your voice, “would you mind if I sat here?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” You smiled as the two boys scrambled to clear off the spot in front of them.

“Thanks, I’m [F/N].”

“I’m Peter, this is Ned.”

Hardly a moment after, Ned interjected, “Have you heard about Spiderman?”

Peter elbowed him, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, the guy from those youtube videos, right? I figure it’s all in the suit. Unless he’s some alien or something. Why do you ask?” You cocked your head.

“No reason!”

“Uh, yeah, just curious.”

“Whatever you say.”

Pietro Maximoff (MCU)

(Time frame: Post-AOU au, Civil War; Pietro sides with Cap.)

(E/C) eyes observed the male intruder traipsing about the warehouse you had adopted as your own.

It hadn’t taken much to stake a claim on the property. It had been abandoned for years, nestled in the midst of a tangle of trees, too tightly woven to bring in the vehicles needed for destruction without taking out the trees too. Your particular abilities made it all too easy to convince those who did wander along, that the warehouse was home to a nasty number of woodland creatures.

It wasn’t as if there was any concerning individuals out searching for you either. The only people aware of your existence were the Avengers and you were sure that they wouldn’t divulge your location to anyone.

Though the recent divergence from friend to foe did make you wander. With all that had happened, any of the team might divulge your secret.

Said secret being your existence.

Curiosity filled your eyes as the stranger walked further into the darkness of your abode.

The warehouse wasn’t exactly welcoming. Maybe his friends had dared him? He did look young. Maybe your age.

You followed him via the old pipes running across the ceiling of the building.

“[F/N]!” Your name coming from the mouth of another being surprised you, “Captain America sent me!” You perked up at the title as he yelled into the darkness. Steve had always been more welcoming of your presence than Tony.

Knowing Steve sent this stranger also gave you hope that you hadn’t been ratted out by Tony and his Accord.

You silently dropped down behind him, “And why is Mister America hunting me down?”

You couldn’t help but be somewhat disappointed by his lack of surprise.

“He’s gathering a team”

“Well, I have always wanted to experience the superhero shtick. Name’s [F/N].”

“Pietro.”

Sam Wilson (MCU)

(Time frame: Beginning of Winter Soldier)

“C'mon, Cap, you’ve got nothing on me. I’m known for being fast.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to get sleep at night.”

“Oh, I’m going to get you!” With a playful growl, you launched yourself onto Steve’s back. He didn’t miss a step, continuing his run while you placed yourself atop his shoulders.

Your partnership with Steve arose from your interest in him and those he had fought alongside. What was a one time interview for your blog became a strong friendship, one that resulted in even the reveal of your abilities.

“On your left.”

You perked up as Steve spoke to a fellow runner, giving the stranger a grin as he fell away. You must have been a strange sight, perched atop Steve’s shoulders.

When you next heard Steve’s comment, you were typing away a text, but quickly turned to the stranger again. This time, you offered a wave and gave Steve a tap so he would stop.

After hopping down, you fell in step beside the man, “Sorry about Steve. The whole superhero thing makes him hard to beat.”

“I figured that out,” he stopped, offer in you a hand, “Sam Wilson.”

You took his hand, “[F\N] [L/N].”

An easy conversation arose, him mostly questioning your relationship with Steve and, by extension, the other Avengers.

It wasn’t until Steve once again lapped him that he seemed to remember that he had been running.

“Don’t say it!”

“On your left.”

“Come on!”

You rolled your eyes as you joined Sam in chasing after Steve, “Boys.”

Steve Rogers (MCU)

(Time frame: Post SHIELD collapse, pre AOU, references the AOU scene with Thor’s hammer)

Working for SHIELD hadn’t been among your aspirations upon leaving home.

Yet, here you were.

Or, more accurately, there you had been.

Your work as an assassin had long kept you separate from the golden heroes of the world, but the collapse brought that to an end. With what information had been kept on you being stored the old fashioned way, you’d made an escape, free to abandon all the drama that SHIELD had supplied.

So, you found yourself questioning why you now sat aside the heroes that you’d always thought yourself too tainted to friend. But here you were, the part of a bona-fide Tony Stark party, with all of the Avengers in attendance.

As the newest member—not that you were an Avenger, far from it—you received the spotlight as the group tossed questions at you from every side.

The conversation trailed away from you, for which you were grateful, and turned to Thor’s hammer. The men immediately jumped at the opportunity to prove themselves ‘worthy’ and you couldn’t help but make a snide remark toward their testosterone-fueled pride.

You also couldn’t help being impressed when the hummer moved for Steve—and beyond amused at the surprise on Thor’s face, but you’d leave that for later.

“I don’t think I properly introduced myself, Captain.” You gave him a grin, one everyone in the room could tell was flirtatious, “I’m [F/N] [L/N].” You held out your hand and he took it a grin matching your own on his face.

“Steve Rogers.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Tony quickly cut in, “Do you have to flirt in front of us?”

“Tony!”

Thor Odinson (MCU)

(Time Frame: Ragnarok)

Meeting the heir to the Asguardian throne was the last thing you had expected from your imprisonment on Sakaar, but he was there, imprisoned the same as you.

Your time as a contender had brought you more than your fair share of pain, but the look on Thor’s face served to convince you he’d suffered plenty before even being introduced the the Grandmaster’s game.

Still, you knew Thor was the greatest chance you had to escape and you wanted your chance, even if it meant weaseling your way into his favor with all the womanly charm you had left after the months of fighting you’d done for the Grandmaster’s enjoyment.

“Hello there,” you gave Thor your best attempts at a sexy smile.

“Oh, yeah, this is [F/N].” Korg introduced you and you gave him a nod.

“I’ll answer any questions he has, pal, you can go hang out with Miek, yeah?”

He hesitated and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had the same plan or if he simply wanted to chat with the newcomer. Either way, he relented without protest.

“He’s a good guy, great for some laughs too,” you shrugged, “I would have let you be, but I had to chat with you. Never expected to find an Avenger trapped in here with me.”

“You’re from Midgard?” you gave him an affirmative nod, “How did you end up here?”

“You’re asking the wrong person. All I remember is Earth and then,” you motioned a poof with your hands, “here I am.”

“I’ll get us both out of here, you have my word.”

Any response you had died in your throat. He hadn’t even gave you a chance to flirt your way into his good graces before offering his help.

You decided then, Thor was your favorite Avenger.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #clint barton #clint barton x reader #johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #logan howlett #logan howlet x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #thor odinson #thor odison x reader #x reader

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agoddamn · 6 years ago

Text

#game of thrones spoilers

Brief thoughts.

More underwhelming than bad. Suffers from the same decent presentation/weak foundation the previous episode did.

Why did the last episode end with Arya riding off on a mystic white horse if she’s...still stumbling around the middle of King’s Landing here? Also, man, the Faceless Men really did literally never matter, huh?

Jaime and Cersei looked very unsquished compared to how the last episode showed the entire ceiling come down on them. Apparently it was just the doorways? So if they’d been standing five feet back they’d have been fine? Great use of Rains of Castamere though.

That bit where the writers Tyrion was talking directly to the viewers Jon about how Dany had been burning shitloads of people actually haven’t you been paying attention? made me roll my eyes. Yes, it was horrible when she burned the khals alive, people who the writers have consistently treated like either rabid animals who need to be put down or furniture. That really wasn’t so much an in-character argument so much as the writers hammering in “HEY, SHE’S EVIL AND THIS IS WHY” to sell the twist they forgot to illustrate.

While I’m glad that they didn’t drag out Dany’s death it all just felt...underwhelming. She’s down like twenty minutes in and the next hour is talking heads debating paper-thin politics. If they were fleshed-out politics of a world I was interested in I wouldn’t mind, but it’s really fucking not at this point (”oh yeah, that prince of Dorne, who we totally all know”).

Did Peter Dinklage have the writers at gunpoint to give him all the soliloquies?

Felt like everything got tied up a little too neatly. The dothraki were good with just...peacing out? Without any spoils or anything? Really? And Drogon was never seen or heard from again? And now that the North seized independence Dorne and the Iron Islands are fine with that? Cause they had the exact same “hey, we’re really isolated and self-sufficient so we’d honestly just rather go” deal the North did. Speaking of which, the whole kingdom is fine with a Stark Queen in the north and Stark King in the south? That doesn’t sound...shady to anyone?

The subtitles deadass refer to the councilors at Tyrion’s trial as “Man 1/2/3″ when they’re offscreen and that really says it all about how much of a shit is given to the world at large.

The comedy routine with Bronn at the end was pretty fucking bad. It’s a goddamn shame that they made me hate a character I used to like because of overexposure. May as well have had a laugh track go off anytime he popped up after season 6. Also just a weird note to end on? Tyrion’s nervousness, fine, cute. “Lol there’s a selfish incompetent on the new smallcouncil” immediately after 60+ minutes of the writers fucking begging you to care about the civilians of King’s Landing? Ha ha...ha? It’s...funny because he doesn’t care about the people Jon lost his family to protect?

I couldn’t even figure out what was going on with the Wall bit on an in-universe level. Jon finally has true freedom after great sacrifice and gets to play Frodo and retire with his new sexy redhead, I get that. But why is the Watch even still there? Tyrion’s “need a place for bastards lol” is not adequate. And why can Grey Worm ensure Jon stays with the Watch? Did he even stay with the Watch? It looked a lot more like he went off with the Wildlings for good but there was a distinct lack of a FUCK THE POLICE vibe I’d expect from that end.

Arya’s end was whatever, more or less matching her entire nonsense role this season. If what she TRULY WANTED was to leave her family forever (which...?) you’d think she’d seek out Nymeria or something. I’d be more confused about her Game of Faces story turning out to be the truth but I guess nothing from the House of Black and White ever mattered, so WHATEVER.

Queen Sansa looked cool as fuck (those sleeves! She’s embracing the old gods again?) but felt really goddamn sad? She has no one she loves or trusts around her. Goddamn.

#game of thrones spoilers #game of thrones

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caranfindel · 6 years ago

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Recap/review 14.16: “Don’t Go Into the Woods”

THEN: “Those guys hunt monsters!” S13 Sam bringing the AU hunters home where they’ll be safe! Sam hates this place! Can we just stop here? Now that you’ve shown me Sam in that sweatshirt and camo jacket, and his PTSD flashbacks, and brokenly admitting how much he hates the bunker, it can only go downhill from this point. Let’s stop while we’re ahead. Ah well. Jack is a Winchester and “I’m me again,” and is probably good, if one can believe that while watching him turn his pet snake to ash.

NOW: Two teens making out in the back seat of a car at a campground. The girl is antsy because something is whistling outside (“where are they, Camp Crystal Lake?” asks The Husband), and then a law enforcement officer opens the door and oh, god, I’m having a PTSD flashback myself, so let’s move on. It’s the sheriff, who is actually the guy’s father, and there’s some family drama. The girl, Barbara, goes to the bathroom to let the guys talk. The bathroom is pretty disgusting, but if she thinks the worst thing she’ll see tonight is an awful bathroom, she’s wrong. Sheriff Dad lectures his son Tom (Tom and Barbara? Is this a flashback? Are these two teenagers from the 60s?) while, in the bathroom, Barbara sees lights flashing and hears whistling and then SOMETHING puts a hand over the door. Screams, running, a glimpse of something monstrous, the sheriff trips over a tree root, and then Tom finds Barbara with her neck slashed open.

Title card!

Bunker. Sam is sitting in the dark kitchen, hunched over his laptop, looking sad (SAAAAAMMMMM!!!) and alone. Dean comes in and says “morning sunshine!” and teases him about looking at porn. So basically, we’re trying real hard to act like everything is normal, aren’t we, boys? Sam’s found a case - our dead friend Barbara - and police called it an animal attack, but there’s a history of disappearances. Dean asks about Sam’s request to take some time and Sam looks puzzled and says “no, I’m good, honestly, I’m good.” Dean gives him a hard look and is obviously thinking the same thing I am, which is that you’re LYING, SAM WINCHESTER. But he accepts it.

Sam’s lying face, and Dean’s disbelieving face.

Cas is conveniently written out, having left because he’s been cooped up in the bunker too long, and Dean doesn’t want Jack to come. He’s concerned about him having his powers back. He brings up the security guard, reminding us that Jack has accidentally killed someone before, just in case we forgot, and says “I just want to make sure he’s right before we put him back out there.” Sam reluctantly agrees.

They visit Jack, who is reading that it’s illegal to turn someone into a zombie in Haiti (good to know). They tell him they’re going out on a case, and Dean lies that he’s not invited because they don’t want to leave the bunker empty “in case Mom or some of the other hunters call.” Sam looks very uncomfortable with the lie, maybe because it’s so ridiculous (they have cell phones, and all the other hunters are dead), or maybe just because he doesn’t like lying to Jack. Dean gives Jack a shopping list and asks him to restock the bunker. Beer is on the list twice. Jack smiles sweetly and says he’ll do it, Sam looks uncomfortable some more, and the guys take off.

(Sidebar: are ALL of the other hunters actually dead? Did every AU hunter happen to be in the bunker the day Michael got out? Discuss.)

Camp Crystal Lake. (No, not really, but I don’t remember what it’s called, just that they’re in Iowa.) The brothers are in FBI suits and overcoats \o/ and the sheriff is explaining that there’s a lot of wildlife in the woods, coyotes and whatnot, and hikers get attacked. Like a coyote would do that kind of damage. They ask him if they can see the body, because a county sheriff would also be in charge of the morgue, wouldn’t he (that was sarcasm because I think the answer is no, he would not, but what do I know?) and he’s not thrilled but recognizes that he doesn’t have a choice.

Morgue. Sam opens the drawer and as he pulls it out, dead Barbara’s arm falls and hits Dean, who jumps back and mutters “mother-.” I didn’t even catch it, but The Husband did, so I had to rewind and then laugh. I don’t know why Sam is so surprised at Dean’s reaction, because even a hunter would jump when he gets smacked by a corpse, don’t you think? But it’s a cute moment.

Her eyes are an almost opaque blue-white, which makes me think zombie. And they did bring it up earlier, so… maybe? (Spoiler alert: nope.) It’s obvious even to me that a coyote didn’t cause the giant wounds on Barbara’s arm and throat. Sam notes that the skin around the throat wounds is burned, and I swear to god, Jensen looks right at the camera and asks what would do that.

“Dude, seriously, you looked RIGHT at the camera just now.”

I’m going to stick with the Sam and Dean story instead of going back and forth to Jack’s story. Although we’re not with the Winchesters right now; we’re with Tom and Sheriff Dad. Tom wants to talk to Barbara’s parents and Sheriff Dad says he needs to give them some time.

Later (or not? I can’t tell) Sam and Dean are researching at the Sheriff’s Department. “Kahunta,” says Sam. “Gesundheit,” says Dean. No, silly, a Kahunta is a “local Native American legend,” an ancient beast that spits up burning stomach acid when it’s hungry. (So, Zeitgeist, then? We’ve gone from Thanos to Zeitgeist?) Coincidentally, we see a couple walking in the woods who are accosted by a truly horrific creature that spits up burning acid.

Morning. Sheriff Dad is going over bloody photos of poor dead Barbara when his son comes in to discuss how animals who get a taste for human flesh won’t be satisfied with anything else. And he has to do something. “You said it was a coyote, right?” Flashback of Barbara and the Definitely Not A Coyote. A deputy runs in and tells Sheriff Dad there’s a situation.

The situation is the surviving half of the couple from earlier. Dean and Sam are there before the sheriff, because they’re awesome or psychic or whatever, and they ask the survivor what she saw. She calls him “a guy covered in something” and tells the Winchesters where they were attacked. Then the sheriff rolls up, recalls the search party, and tells the Winchesters to stay out of the woods. They nod politely, and the sheriff leaves.

Well, we should probably do what he says.

Oh yeah. Definitely.

Hee!

The most important things about this scene are (1) overcoat porn, and (b) Sam’s hair is slightly damp.

Nighttime. Sam and Dean are out in the woods, definitely doing what the sheriff said. They figure either he’s hiding something, or he’s scared. (Or maybe he knows something worth hiding, and that’s why he’s scared?) Sam mentions that “kahunta” means “whistler,” which is either idle chit-chat, or important information that would have come up sooner. Dean asks how they kill it and Sam says “the lore doesn’t really specify,” and that’s something that ABSOLUTELY would have come up sooner. Like, when they were packing their weapons bags. “What do we need?” “I don’t know.” Yeah, I really think they would have discussed that BEFORE they ended up in the woods. But what do I know. Dean suggests a head shot should kill anything, which is funny because that’s come up elsewhere this season - a shot to the head being an alternate way to kill something with a complicated weapon requirement.

They hear the whistle, but when something comes up behind them, it’s not the kahunta, it’s the sheriff, with a gun pointed at Dean’s head. (Sidebar: someday I’m going to have to learn the difference between a rifle and a shotgun, so I can call it something other than “gun.”) Sam is very accommodating, immediately going into placating, see, I’m not a threat, I’m following instructions, don’t shoot my brother mode. Dean’s a bit sassier and asks Sheriff Dad if the word kahunta means anything to him. The sheriff lies that it does not, and Dean knows he’s lying. Then Dean busts a move, ducking and lunging and ending up holding the sheriff’s big gun, and Sam’s right there beside him. Did Sam know what Dean was going to do, or did he just react that quickly? Doesn’t matter. It’s awesome. (Actually, it’s funny that Sam has to run over to Dean, instead of just holding his gun on the sheriff from the other side.)

The sheriff tells them he thought the kahunta was a tribal legend, and oddly enough, I didn’t catch on until now that Sheriff Dad is Native American. If I’d noticed that earlier, I would have wondered if he meant a coyote or the trickster god Coyote, and then I would have thought that would have been an amazing way for Gabriel to come back; he’d saunter out of the woods with a lollipop in his mouth and say “hi, fellas” and I’d fall over dead. But that ain’t happening tonight.

The sheriff tells them how a person turns into a kahunta, but I’m going to skip that because honestly, I’m not finding it all that engrossing. Let’s just look at how pretty the guys are, shall we?

Things that are unreasonably hot - Winchesters having guns held on them, holding guns on other people, looking confused and angry and concerned, and basically just standing there breathing.

The kahunta was bound to the woods, which is why the sheriff was trying to keep people away. When the Winchesters tell him they hunt monsters, he asks why they don’t tell everyone that monsters are real, which is a really odd stance for him to take, considering that he’s been lying about rabid coyotes to try to keep people out of the kahunta woods. The guys explain that it’s not that simple, and Sam tells him that people, even hunters (especially hunters, right, Sam?) die, and is quite upset about it, and while I’m normally all about Sam and his trauma, this is falling flat for me. I don’t know why the sheriff cares so much about them lying. I don’t know why Sam cares so much about keeping people out of hunting, especially since he’s generally the one who recognizes when someone is destined or determined to hunt, and tries to help them. (I mean, I suspect this is happening for Stupid Plot Reasons. But what do I know?)

The sheriff’s phone rings. It’s Tom, telling him he’s going to go kill the “rabid coyote.” Ruh roh! They know exactly where he’s going, because that’s where they know the kahunta hangs out, which doesn’t explain why it’s not where they went first. Sam points out that they don’t know how to kill it, and Sheriff Dad says all the lore calls for a silver blade through the heart. Luckily, Sam has one. (Sidebar: Why wasn’t that nugget in all of Sam’s lore? Discuss.)

Tom has brought some raw meat to use as bait, but the kahunta ain’t interested in that crap. It knocks him unconscious by opening a cabin door really aggressively (sigh) and then starts to drip stomach acid on him. Sheriff Dad comes in and says “hey,” as one does, and they fight. Dean runs in and, instead of going for the kahunta, picks up Thomas and carries him outside. Then Sam runs in and shoots the kahunta as it gnaws on the sheriff. It attacks Sam, who drops his knife, as one does.

(Sidebar: Would a silver bullet have killed the kahunta? If all it needs is silver in the heart, wouldn’t a bullet do the trick? Discuss.)

Sheriff Dad picks up Sam’s silver knife. Dean returns and shoos him out of the cabin, and he doesn’t say “wait, I have the only weapon that will kill this thing.” Apparently the kahunta doesn’t like Dean’s flashlight. I don’t really know what’s going on here. It lunges for him, he lures it outside, and the sheriff stabs it with the knife, so I guess they actually had a plan there. The kahunta disintegrates into a gross little puddle of goo. Sam emerges, and I swear that thing was gnawing on him, but he’s unhurt.

Just out of breath and hot AF.

Time jump! Tom is loaded into the ambulance and asks his father if they killed the “coyote.” Dad says they did, and then tells the Winchesters that he didn’t know what to tell the kid. “How about the truth,” says Sam. “He’s your son. He deserves the truth.” Dean’s expression reveals he knows Sam is actually talking to him, because the theme this week is Don’t Lie, Kids. Or Don’t Lie to Your Kids. Or something like that.

“I came out to have a good time, and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.“

Impala. Dean says he doesn’t think telling Tom the truth is the best idea, and they should do what they always do. "When in doubt, lie.”

Yeah, right. Like we did with Jack?

I took care of it, all right? We took care of it.

No, Dean, WE did not take care of it. YOU did. And do you think you really took care of it the right way?

Jack said he was fine!

Yeah, he’s a kid! And when we were kids, how many times did we tell Dad that we were fine, just to make him happy?

Oh, like you did just weeks ago, maybe, Sam? Was that a lie? (Also, how heartbreaking is it that Sam is comparing his parenting to John’s?)

Meanwhile, back in Lebanon, Jack (who apparently walked to town?) finds the Lebanon Mini Mart closed, with a note on the door saying “out to lunch.” As he waits, a car pulls up. It’s the three teenagers from 14.13 “Lebanon” - Max, Not!Max, and Hat boy. Max is carrying food, and Hat boy is watching the Ghostfacers on his phone. Not!Max seems to be wearing that red sheepskin-lined jacket Jack wore earlier in the season. Hat boy isn’t wearing his hat.

(Thanks for that fashion report, because that’s why we watch the show, to see what the Television Version of These Kids Today wears.)

They recognize Weird Bambi Kid, and Hat Boy asks where Sam and Dean are, and if they’re fighting ghosts. “What’s a ghost? I should go,” Jack says. It’s funnier on screen than it looks in print. They tell him they know about hunters, and Jack is relieved he doesn’t have to lie, because it makes his stomach hurt. IT’S THIS WEEK’S THEME, JACK. It turns out Not!Max is the store employee who stepped out to go to lunch, so it looks like Jack gets to do Dean’s shopping after all.

Jack fills his little basket as Max and Not!Max talk about him. They feel sorry for him because he lives with a bunch of guys (two other guys? is a bunch?) and their home probably smells like beer, Kleenex, and Old Spice. Kleenex? Has a smell? And is something you associate with a house full of guys? Okay, Max. (Besides, I’m convinced the bunker smells like Sam’s rosemary mint shampoo. But what do I know?) Hat Boy wants to talk to Jack about the Ghostfacers, who are awesome, and the books he’s reading. Jack tells Hat Boy way too much about monsters, and when they ask if he ever “hangs out,” he tells them about Tuesday movie nights, when Dean makes them watch The Lost Boys (36 times, which is like a third of Jack’s life in the bunker so far, isn’t it?)

(Sidebar: Why aren’t they watching Porky’s II? Why would Dean be so interested in The Lost Boys? Wouldn’t he hate its unrealistic portrayal of vampires? Or is he just a Keifer Sutherland fan? Discuss.)

Max suggests he could hang out with kids his own age, and Jack says “Well, I’m two. Two…wenty. I’m twenty. Two. I’m twenty-two.” Again, it’s funnier on screen. The girls invite Jack to hang out with them at “the Stoke place,” which is “this old farmhouse outside of town… no one goes there.” Jack’s interested. Not!Max cards him for the beer.

The next day, at the Stoke Place, which is nice and furnished and has electricity and doesn’t seem abandoned at all. I think it’s the same place as the party from “Lebanon.” Max and Not!Max start to kiss, and Hat Boy tells them to do that in another room, which I’ve been led to believe is exactly the opposite of what a heterosexual teenager would say if two hot lesbians were about to make out in front of him. But what do I know?

Jack shows up with a stack of books, which Hat Boy considered awesome, because Hat Boy is just really into this monster hunting business. Jack is very stranger-in-a-strange-land, not recognizing music (huh?) or SATs (and that means these kids are what, 16 or 17? way too young to be hanging out with someone who’s too-wenty-two). Once again he talks way too much about monsters, and the way we focus on the girls when he says demons could look like “me, or you, or anybody” makes me think one of these chicks is gonna turn out to be a demon (spoiler alert: no). Max asks him, in a challenging way, how he killed a demon, which convinces me that she’s the one. They move outside and he attempts to demonstrate throwing an angel blade (“so it’s made out of angels?” hee!) but isn’t very good at it.

Night falls and Jack is still unsuccessfully trying to embed his blade in a tree. He finally decides to use his powers. Voila! Seeing how impressed his new friends are, Jack starts to show off, twirling the blade like he twirled the pencil back in the bunker. Not!Max gets freaked out, so Max asks him to stop, but he refuses. Not!Max panics and runs toward the flying blade (which I don’t think she’d do, but what do I know?) and gets stabbed in the gut. Whoops! She collapses, but Jack heals her. “Hey, that’s cool, I bet you could heal anyone who got injured or killed, like maybe someone killed by an archangel,” Hat Boy says. (No, not really.) Even though he saved Not!Max, Jack’s new friends are no longer feeling buddy-buddy and they send him away.

Bunker. Jack’s basically where he was when the Winchesters left. He tells them he got the supplies, except for the beer.

I didn’t have ID.

You have TONS of IDs.

They’re fake!

Hee!

Sam sits down and the guys explain that they actually left him behind because they didn’t want him using his powers yet, until they know he’s comfortable. Dean tells him they care about him, which is the closest he’ll get to telling him he loves him unless someone’s death is imminent. I like that Sam gets down on his level and radiates compassion, and Dean remains standing and shows authority. Because Dean is emulating John, and Sam is being the parent he wishes John was. (I’M NOT CRYING. YOU’RE CRYING.)

Sam’s compassionate face is killing me.

Jack plasters on a smile and tells them he understands and promises he won’t use his powers without permission. And says nothing at all happened while they were gone.

OH JACK.

So. This was co-written by Davy Perez, and normally I love a Perez episode, but this one left me unsatisfied. It wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t great. It was just kind of… eh. I guess it was bound to happen - that string of good episodes couldn’t last forever. It did convince me further that Jack is going to become the Big Bad unintentionally, probably by trying to do something good or just trying to impress someone. And I’m not a fan of that possibility.

As always, please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

#spn #14.16 don’t go into the woods #spoilers #wet!sam #tv recaps #recap

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eene-fangirl · 6 years ago

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Titanic: Never Let Me Ed Chapter 7 (An Ed, Edd n Eddy/Titanic Crossover)

Note: Here is chapter 7 of @nintendogal55 and I’s crossover story of Ed, Edd n Eddy and Titanic. Enjoy! Here is the link to the masterpost.

Edd spent a restless night in his thoughts. His parents and Victoria were already asleep by the time he returned to his stateroom. Sitting up on the couch, Edd spent hours thinking over the events from the evening. And also replaying the moment where Eddy kissed his cheek. Right before he ran away he felt a magnetic lure drawing their lips together.

Was that normal? What was he thinking? Of course it was! That young man he had developed feelings for long ago was not behavior to cower away from.

Instead of having breakfast in the dining saloon, he and Victoria ate out on the deck which was connected to their room. His parents didn’t join them. Edd was still quite exhausted from the night of festivities, even harboring a headache. He would have slept until the afternoon hadn’t Rudy awakened him.

Plates of toast and scones sat around the table. Edd sipped his tea knowing the warm liquid would do good for his cranium.

“You were late coming back weren’t you, Eddward?” Victoria said to him.

Edd was so distracted that he forgot the woman was sitting across from him. “Oh, yes, I was.”

She placed her tea back onto the plate with a hard and loud thunk. Meeting her gaze, Victoria was staring disgusted at him.

“Did you have fun last night?” she then smiled. Though she wasn’t really smiling.

Edd timidly nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh?” she said as if to be surprised.

Edd sat up straighter, gaining courage. “Victoria, you should have experienced it! Everyone was so generous. We danced, talked, and even sang...”

“You drank?” Victoria added in not amused.

Did he smell of alcohol? “Oh... a bit...”

“Really? Only a bit,” she enunciated, clapping her tongue against her mouth.

What was she getting at? “Alright, maybe a tad over my limit. But, words cannot describe the fun I had last night.”

“I know.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Victoria folded her hands together. “Rudy and I were there.”

Edd’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. “Oh, I didn’t see you.”

“That’s because you were too busy gazing into the eyes of that lowlife steerage boy!” Her voice grew. It also trembled as if she were nearing tears.

“Oh, I um...”

“You’re not to act like that ever again, Eddward! Why don't you stare lovingly at me, like that? Aren’t I enough? I have never felt so ashamed, so embarrassed! Who do you think you are?!”

Edd was trembling, only slightly. But somehow he developed the courage to sit up straight and sneer at her. Finally, he actually felt as if he was getting through to her. “I’m a man, Victoria. I’m free to do whatever I please to. After all, I’m just your fiance.”

Staring in disbelief into his soul, Victoria snapped. “Fiancee? ‘JUST YOUR FIANCEE?’” In the blink of an eye, Victoria stood up, overturned the table that separated them smashing dishes, spilling tea, and even tossing a piece of bread overboard. It made a fishes morning.

Victoria leaned dangerously close into his face, blocking Edd from running away.

“Of course I am your fiance! You put a ring on my finger did you not?!” Victoria bellowed. Her voice echoed across the ocean.

“W-Well... I didn’t propose...”

Victoria's eyes grew as if she were smacked in the face. “Eddward, you are not to see that man ever again! Or act like one of those embarrassing cretins! You are in the first class, you should be more proud! And you should get over that ugly fixation for men. Do you understand?!”

Edd nodded quickly, scared to take his eyes off the woman.

Then she returned to that cold smile. Victoria patted his cheek a little too roughly. “Good. Now, why don’t you freshen up and put a tie on?” She then walked off, kicking away the plates or cups that were in her way. “No husband of mine is going to resemble a disheveled lowlife.”

In the instant Victoria disappeared, Edd’s throat tightened, forcefully holding in his cries. Slipping out from his wicker chair he went about picking up the broken bits of plates. What else could he do?

“If you’re going to take care of the mess you'll save me some time.”

Edd turned and looked up at Rudy. He stared smugly at him, holding his hands together in front of him. “Do you know how much strength it requires to hold back that woman?” he asked annoyed.

Tears fell from Edd’s cheeks. “Rudy, why would you and Victoria intrude on me like that?”

Annoyed, Rudy rolled his eyes. Even he didn’t care. “I’m only following out on orders! Everything wouldn’t be so complicated if you just acted like a man for once!”

After cleaning up, Edd went about getting himself dressed. For once he didn’t want to wear a tie. Would it do any wrong?

Just then his father burst into the room, startling Edd.

“What are you meandering about for? Church service starts in no less than twenty minutes!” He grabbed his tie and immediately started tying it around his neck, quite tightly.

“Father?”

“What is it?”

“My tie... it is too tight.”

His father stared at him with these authoritative and disgusted eyes. “Victoria told us of your night adventures.”

“Father, Eddy was just requesting that I join him for the evening. It was a purely innocent venture.”

“Is that so?” His father responded coldly. “You are not to see that man for the rest of this journey.”

Edd dipped his head to the ground, barring his eyes.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Sighing, Edd met his father’s eyes. “How you and mother treat me is unfair! I’m a prisoner! I am twenty years old! I should be in charge of my own pathway! It’s not up to you to decide my interests, career, and sexuality!”

Edd’s throat was squeezed tightly. For a brief second, he believed that his own father was going to suffocate him.

“Your life would be yours to live had you not done what you did,” his father murmured.

“Father, I was a boy! I was only trying to defend my own wellbeing!” Edd argued, clasping his fists.

“And you thought hurting those other children with whatever that machine you had built was the answer?”

“The situation wouldn’t have accumulated if you and Mother were there for me!” Edd shouted, his cheeks growing hot. Obviously, his temper was out of control. Who cared?

His father stared at him, no emotion or guilt. “Eddward, your mother and I have done what is best for you. We thought that we gifted you with Victoria”

“She’s a monster! You’re more proud of her than you are of me!” Edd pointed out, heartbroken.

His father grabbed his tie pulling Edd closer. “You’re scandal left us in debt. Victoria is keeping us all from ending up out on the streets. Do you want that? Do you want to see your mother become a seamstress?” he asked.

Edd couldn’t believe his ears. It was unbelievable that he grew up under the wing of these ungrateful beings.

“Eddward,” his father caught his attention. “If you marry Victoria I will pay for your education.”

Edd blinked. “My education?”

“Whatever you please to study. Your expenses are under my cover. Just as long as you marry Victoria and support her.”

Edd caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. It was the first instance he had where his parents were willing to support him. But this... he didn’t want it.

What he wanted was not up to him.

---

“Are you sure we’re allowed to do this, Eddy?” Ed asked his friend as they walked up the third class deck.

Eddy raced up the stairs leading to the first class decks. He banged open the gate ignoring the ‘No Third Class Beyond This Point’ sign. There was no other way to get up to the first class seeing how they were closed behind gates as if they were all rabid animals.

“Yeah, you can get into trouble,” Kevin noted, nervously looking around for any officers.

“Trouble is my middle name if you haven’t noticed, Kev!”

“I thought it was...”

“Shut up, Ed!” Eddy demanded. He then pointed to the deck over their heads. “I need you guys to give me a boost!”

“Are you sure he even wants to see you?” Kevin asked.

“Hey, the guy snuck down to see me! Now it’s my turn! ‘Sides I really need to talk to Double D.”

“About what?” Ed asked curiously.

“Business, that’s what! Now would you two quit standin’ around and hurry up before someone catches us?”

Ed and Kevin lifted Eddy up as the man got his footing on the bars. Right when Eddy disappeared an officer chased his friends back down to the third class deck.

Luck was on Eddy’s side that it was almost scary. For the last year or two since his brother... died, Eddy never felt freer. Except, something was missing. And Edd may have just answered what that is.

Finding his way back to the grand staircase where he was last night, Eddy walked down the stairs, his hands in the ratty pockets of his pants without a care in the world. First class his ass. They were all people.

“Hey, Mr. Andrews!” Eddy greeted a familiar man he saw from the dinner table last night.

Mr. Andrews looked up and politely said hello to him as if it was normal to see a third class man in the first class areas.

Distant singing was heard from the dining saloon. Church services must have been in session. There were no church services for third class. What were they, dirty rats or something?

Right when Eddy was nearing towards the doors he was stopped by a steward.

“You’re not supposed to here.” The steward said to Eddy, eyeing his attire.

Eddy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, man, but don’t you recognize me from last night? Come on, no one else on this ship his blue hair!”

The man shook his head, refusing his entry. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Before Eddy could start up an argument, Rudy walked out from the dining room. Eddy could just make out Victoria glancing over her shoulder, glaring at Eddy in the dining saloon. Eddy’s insides burned in anger at seeing her. Edd was right beside her. He didn’t even know what was happening.

“Mr. McGee, I presume?” Rudy asked. The man was an inch shorter than Eddy. “Mrs. Von Bakewell is very appreciative of your heroic actions for her beloved. She asked me to give you this in gratitude.”

He reached into his jacket and held out a twenty dollar bill.

Eddy’s heart burst. A twenty dollar bill! This could buy him food or even a place to live in America!

No, it was only a bribe.

Reluctantly, Eddy shook his head. “I just want to talk to Dou- uh... Eddward,” Eddy corrected himself.

“Well, he doesn’t wish to see you.”

“I doubt that!”

“Listen, you stay away,” he then offered the bill to the steward. His eyes immediately beamed. “Could you make sure that Mr. McGee is escorted out?”

Grumbling, Eddy turned his nose up and marched off. “I ain’t no baby! I can walk myself out!”

Seeing Eddy walk off, Victoria smiled in victory. Turning to Edd, the man sang quietly avoiding Victoria's eyes. The woman straightened his tie and kissed his cheek.

---

Walking along the decks, Thomas Andrews escorted Edd and his family on a tour of the ship. It made Edd feel a little better. He’d been wanting to take a tour of the ship since they boarded.

Victoria clung tightly to Edd’s arm refusing to let him lose for even a second. She also leaned too closely against him. Andrews noticed Edd’s discomfort. Even he wasn’t too fond of Victoria.

Captain Smith also joined them on the tour. He led them through the bridge for a short minute so they wouldn’t distract the officers at work. Next, they went through the gymnasium. Andrews explained in full detail on how all the machinery worked.

“Hmm, maybe they’d be of use to Eddward,” Victoria snidely remarked.

Then they walked back out onto the boat deck. The breeze was chillier. The ocean was a bit rough. Other than that it was a peaceful Sunday.

Walking along the deck, Edd studied the wooden lifeboats. To his surprise, there was not enough.

“Mr. Andrews, I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned,” Edd noticed a glare from Victoria. He cleared his throat and kept speaking. “Forgive me, but it seemed there are not enough lifeboats for everyone aboard.”

“About half actually,” Mr. Andrews proudly answered. “Eddward, you miss nothing, do you? In fact, I put in these type of davits which can take an extra row of boats here.” He then gestured across the entire deck of the ship. “But it was thought... by some... that the deck would be too cluttered. So I was overruled.”

Victoria huffed. “Why waste deck space? It is an unsinkable ship after all!”

As if by some miracle, Victoria finally released Edd’s arm allowing him to be free -- for only a brief period most likely.

Andrews looked towards Edd. Although he didn’t say it, his eyes expressed how sorry he was. Even he knew that Edd deserved so much more than this trapped life.

“I’ve built a strong ship for all aboard, Eddward. She’s all the lifeboat we need.”

And then Andrews walked on, his chin proudly in the air. Why couldn’t Edd be like that? Andrews was married to a good woman and living his dream as a shipbuilder. And here Edd was. A trapped man who couldn’t live his own life or stand up for his own wellbeing.

Just then Edd felt a hand fall on his shoulder. A hat covered a man’s head. Confused, Edd’s heart instantly grew feeling a wave of relief when he realized that it was Eddy. Quickly, they disappeared into the gymnasium.

“Eddy, I’m not supposed to see you!” Edd alerted him. His nervous heart pounding. He glanced at the stained glass window. There was nothing to worry about. They were alone anyway.

Eddy took off the hat, throwing it to the side. “You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You’ve never been given a chance to live and breathe, Double D!”

“Um... Eddward, if you please...”

Eddy blinked, surprised. “Oh, so now you’re letting yourself fall back into that trance? Nope, I ain’t playin’! You see, this is what I’m talkin’ about! Your parents have only spoiled you just so they could have you out of their hair! Nobody has ever seen you for your talent to invent, your intelligence or your incredible enthusiasm!”

Edd’s heart warmed. It was always around Eddy. Even just staring into his immense baby blues eyes made his insides squirm.

“Eddy...” Edd began guiltily.

“No, listen!” Eddy interrupted grasping his arm. He leaned in closer. Their lips were just hovering away about ten inches. “I gotta... man, I got no idea what I’m sayin’!” He brushed a nervous hand through his hair. “Edd, you’re amazing. Look, I’ve been ignoring it for some time, but I got... feelings.”

Edd gulped. “Feelings?”

“Yes, and I think you have complete knowledge on what I’m talking about. That guy in my drawings, the nude guy, well, long story short, we had a fling. A one night stand thing where he just got up and left and I never saw or heard from him again,” Eddy’s eyes darted. Did Edd look hurt? “I try to deny those feelings, but... but you... with you... I...”

“I know...” Edd said nodding.

“You do?” Eddy asked staring at him curiously.

Edd looked to his feet. “When I was sixteen I had these feelings for a boy my age. He did, too. Only... not for me...” Edd shook his head and turned to leave. “No, this is not okay!”

“Yes, it is!” Eddy grabbed his arm.

“Mother and Father want me to marry Victoria!”

“Do you?”

“...”

Eddy nodded. “Yeah, yah don’t! That’s why you were tryin’ to chuck yourself overboard the other night!”

“Eddy, you really do have some nerve!” Edd said irritated with Eddy’s behavior.

“And you could stand up for yourself!”

“I don’t have to listen to this!”

“So you gonna leave?”

Silence.

Eddy touched Edd’s face so that their gazes met. “I ain’t turnin’ my back on you. You jump, I jump remember? I’m not gonna forget you knowin’ that you’re going to continue to suffer.”

“Eddward!” Victoria called out.

Edd jumped. His hand wrapped around the doorknob. He did not make a move to open it.

“I got nothin’ to offer yah,” Eddy continued speaking the truth. “But, I see more than beauty then that guy ever did. You’re never going to escape. Last night you had that incredible fire in your eyes. You don’t want this, and you know it.”

Edd nodded. He still wouldn’t meet Eddy’s eyes. “You’re right,” he answered softly. Then he met his eyes, staring at Eddy with this guilty expression. “I have no idea what I want. Eddy, you have been a tremendous help for me. It’s not up to you to save me.”

“Got that right. It’s all you.”

“Eddward!” Victoria called out this time more angrily.

Edd opened the door and raced out without even meeting Eddy’s eyes. “Goodbye, Eddy!”

Never had Edd ever felt so guilty. His heart throbbed and he was ready to cry. Don’t cry. Be a man. Eddy didn't deserve that.

Eddy raised hundreds of logical points. That night he attempted to throw himself to his death was a dear cry for help. Nobody was going to aid him, encourage him, or be happy for him.

It was insane to believe that he had only know Eddy for a little less than two days now. It felt as if he’d known the man his whole life like they were childhood friends. Last night felt like the life he was supposed to be living.

Thinking back to his short affair with that boy he never wanted anything to do with Edd. Only one thing.

Edd miserably sat with Victoria and her friends for tea. His father asked if he wanted to join him in the Smoking Room. Edd turned his nose up. He never liked that area of the ship. He did not belong here.

“I plan to buy my wedding gown from the finest wedding attire ship in New York,” Victoria boasted. Her friends were in rapt attention.

He did not love Victoria.

Eddy made him feel like the man he was.

Edd loved Eddy.

Right then, Edd burst out from his set and left ignoring Victoria's calls.

---

Out on the bow of the ship, Eddy leaned against the railing. The sun was just setting over the ocean. I mixture of pink, orange, and red painted the sky. It was so beautiful.

His hair blew in the chilly wind. His heart felt heavy like the morning he awoke when that man was gone. Never even saw him again. He only wanted one thing.

He thought he was always better off alone. As Ed said, he was wrong. Eddy was on his way to America. That was no longer appealing to him. He wanted more. He wanted someone.

Nobody wanted to be with him.

“Eddy?”

Hope immediately filled Eddy’s insides. Turning around he met Edd. He looked so beautiful in the setting sun. A smile creased on Eddy’s face.

Edd smiled. “I changed my mind,” he said. Then he looked guilty. “I apologize for what I said! You were only trying to...”

Eddy shooshed him, cutting Edd off. It wasn’t to be rude. He held out his hand. “C’mere.”

Edd obeyed, accepting Eddy’s soft hand. The man led him closer until their gazes met. “Close your eyes.”

Edd looked at the man confused, even snickering. “Go on, close ‘em! I got somethin’ to show you!”

Closing his eyes, Edd jumped in surprise. Eddy had touched his hip! He instructed Edd to step up on the ship’s railing and hold onto it. He stumbled forward a bit, grasping Eddy.

“Keep your eyes closed!” Eddy instructed tickling his sides. “Don’t ya dare open ‘em!”

Edd laughed. “I’m not!”

Edd had nary an idea of what was going on but he couldn’t say that he wasn’t excited. He just walked off on Victoria. Suddenly, he felt the chains release him.

Now he was climbing up the railings, Eddy closely holding him so he wouldn’t fall. He felt something lean against his shoulder.

“Do you trust me?” Eddy asked softly into his ear. He took hold of Edd’s arms.

Edd nodded. “I trust you.”

Slowly, his arms were stretched out. And then Eddy’s hands fell back onto his hips, holding him in his tender grasp.

“Open,” Eddy instructed.

When he opened his eyes, Edd smiled from ear to ear, a bit taken aback from the moment. His arms were spread out like an eagle. The wind roared through his face as the ship sailed through the ocean.

Eddy was standing close behind him, his body resting alongside his back. His hands firmly held his hips. And his chin rested against his shoulder.

This was absolutely beautiful! They stayed this way for the longest time as the sun continued to set over the ocean. Edd’s cheeks even hurt from smiling so big.

“I’m flying, Eddy!” Eddy excitedly pointed out.

Just then, Eddy took hold of both his hands, clasping them. His hands were so soft. So warm. So right. They were meant to be.

“‘Come Josephine...’” Eddy started to sing into Edd’s ear. Edd also joined in singing for a moment. This was the most astounding moment in all of Edd’s life. He was standing at the bow of the Titanic mimicking a bird. Freedom.

Turned to meet Eddy’s eyes, their lips were only centimeters apart. He could feel his breath against his skin, sending chills up his back. Edd’s heart pounded. He never felt this way for anyone. And was so right.

That’s when their lips touched. Their first kiss. One of the best, most romantic kissed both of them ever endured.

The two men held one another as they sailed along the ocean into the night.

#ed edd n eddy #eene #eene fanfiction #Titanic: Never Let Me Ed #EddEddy #Titanic

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anal-2-aristotle · 3 years ago

Text

The Hero’s Bane- Chapter 2

5,000 years after The Fall...

Adam hoisted the buck's carcass off his steed with a humph.

"Ya been busy today, Ads?" Morgan the butcher greeted the young man, wiping his spoiled hands on his already bloody apron. "That's the first buck I've seen this winter!"

"Yeah, I got lucky. Almost crossed into the Ash Woods before I napped him."

"Ash Woods? You were hunting near the creek?!" Morgan lowered his voice, leaning closer to Adam. "You know what lies in those woods..."

"Forgotten bedtime tales, I know. I was careful." Adam dropped the animals body on the butchers counter. "Besides, I said almost."

Morgan stroked his beard, and began rummaging behind the counter. He pulled out a small coin pouch, dropping it next to the carcass. "I'll give you forty gold, only because you brought me a buck. "

Adam nodded in agreement, snatching the pouch. "Understandable, thank you Mr. Morgan!"

"Yeh yeh, get on with ya life. Tell that Dash kid that he needs to show his face a little more! I only saw him once this week!" the butcher hollered as Adam mounted his speckled bay mare.

"Of course, sir!" Adam called back, turning his horse to the outskirts of the village. "You take care as well!"

Dashiell scribbled furiously, scratching out the previous paragraph of writing. Throwing the journal across the room, Dash chewed on the end of the pencil, standing to pace. "If the gods don't kill me, I swear, I'll do it myself." he said to himself.

"If you're going to kill yourself, please do it over something more washable than a white fur rug." Adam's voice said from the door way. "...That was a joke, Dash."

"I'm sorry, I was so caught up in my angst, I forgot to laugh." the younger of the two brothers turned to size up the older one. "Did you get any velvet holly-dew?"

Adam stared down into Dashiell's bright, mossy green eyes. "I don't know, did you look up Mother Natures skirt?"

"You know that I was blessed by her, not cursed, for doing that." Dash pushed his brother back playfully. "I was also a baby, so it wasn't crude."

Adam ruffled Dashiell's dirty gold hair, chuckling. "And she was disguised as a hag."

Dash shoved Adam's hands away, fixing the messy hair. "Back to the pervious question..."

"No, I didn't get the holly-dew. Can't you just, y'know-" Adam wiggled his fingers. "-magic it?"

"It doesn't work like that and you know it!" Dash huffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Adam sighed, unclipping the sword from his belt. His younger brother sat in the kitchen, coaxing a basil plant to grow a little extra sprout.

Ever since Mother Nature had blessed the Griffin family by dousing the youngest child in magic powers, things hadn't been easy. There was the usual harassments for consoling with dark magic, sometimes Dash came home with bruises and cuts. There were calls for false prophesying, even rumors that the Griffins had sold the original baby to the fey in exchange for power. This, of course, was all false. Dashiell Griffin prided himself in being righteous, being able to see the difference in good and evil, as if it were black and white. He helped anyone he could, almost to a fault.

Adam lowered himself next to Dash's chair, watching him interact with the plant.

While anyone should be grateful for a goddess's blessing, Adam always felt like she could've given more. Dash was self-taught. No mage wanted to teach him how to use his abilities, and no college would provide him with books so he could study magic forms. For this, Dash had taught himself little cantrips and growing spells, often accompanied by him soothing the plants with a song. He spent so much time out in the garden, that Adam looked pale and sickly in contrast to Dashiell's olive, sun kissed skin.

The older brother smiled to himself as a little bud sprouted from the pot.

Even though Dash had no teachers, he was still powerful with his magic. When he was happy, the house was usually decorated in Natures Glory's, a rare, glowing flower that was rumored to be touched by Mother Nature's lips. When he was angry, Adam would find himself pulling out thorns from the Sword Rose bushes that covered the bedroom. When he was sad, Adam would see Weeping Ivy dripping its sap onto fresh laundry. The plants lived in tune with Dash and his emotions, going as far as to protect him from hungry tiller wolves, rabid beasts that would eat their own pups if they were hungry enough.

"You're staring again."

Adam was snapped from his thoughts, focusing on his younger brother. "Oh, sorry, I was thinking."

"That's dangerous." Dashiell jested lightly, picking off some basil leaves. "Are you worried?"

"Worried?"

"You're 25 this year."

The hunt. One of the greatest ways to die, one would say. All hunters of the age 25 or older were to be lined up every 10 years, in every village, for the gods to choose who was worthy of joining the dead. It was never part of the plan, to die. It just happened when you send mere mortals after a fallen god. Only one person ever made it back alive, and she hadn't said a word since.

Adam felt his stomach drop. "Oh, yeah."

"You think The Victor of Heroes will pick you for the hunt?"

"You think they won't?" Adam scoffed playfully. "I'm one of the best hunters this north of Dalem! I'd be wounded if they didn't!"

"Yeah." agreed Dash slowly. "You think your party will get the fallen Bane of Heroes this year?"

"I'm sure of it. With the eons that have passed, and the silvron cuffs that drain him, I know he will be too weak to even put up a real fight!"

When the younger of the two didn't respond, Adam shook his shoulder. "Hey, I'll be fine if they pick me."

Dash looked away. "Yeah, I know that but... I just, it feels wrong."

"What does?"

"I've been having these dreams-"

"Not the dreams again, Dash." Adam stood up from his chair, shaking his head.

"But listen! I keep seeing someone, this- this man, wounded and beaten, begging for mercy and justice-"

"It's the Bane of Heroes trying to get in your mind! You know he does dark magic like that!" Adam raised his voice, shoving off Dash's outstretched arm.

"I do know, but what if Grandmother Moon is trying to convey something to me-"

"Dashiell, they are just dreams of doubt! I will hear no more of it!"

"Adam, please listen-"

"No! Everyone knows that The Bane of Heroes is a monster, and I will not hear you defend him again!"

"I'm not defending him! I just think-"

"Enough Dash!" Adam slammed his fist on the counter, knocking over the potted basil. With a startling crash, the pot shattered, and Dash was quiet. "If you really are so swayed by dreams, why don't you cross the creek and ask the fallen god yourself?!"

Dashiell opened his mouth, then closed it, defeated. Adam turned to walk up the stairs, when a small voice said; "I will."

Anger and frustration weaving into his words, Adam spat: "Then do it."

With that tension left in the air, Adam excused himself to bed, unaware of his brother stealing his sword and cloak.

Finding the creek was easy for Dash. He had wanted to cross it for so long, curious about the forbidden forest that laid out of his reach. The moon's belly was full, shinning reflectively on the creeks soft running water.

Now that he was here, now that there was nothing stopping him from crossing the water, he couldn't move. The ashy colored trees across the creek beckoned to him with their thin, naked branches, swaying in the winter wind. Snow began to fall, dressing the ground in white. It was now, or never.

Dash splashed quickly to the other bank, the cold water pushing him to move faster. Once on the other side, he pulled his stolen cloak around his lean figure and trudged forward. Unsurprisingly, there were no animal sounds as he noisily clunked through the snow. Dash's breath steamed the air, the cold biting his lungs. Stopping to lean on one of the grey trees, Dash felt a tingly sensation of being watched.

He stood up quickly, hand on the swords hilt. "Hello?!"

His voiced echoed, slowly dying out. There was no response, so, like a fool, he tried again. "I'm looking for The Bane of Heroes?!"

This time, he was met with a low growl, followed by a chorus of howls. A thin, malnourished wolf stalked out of the undergrowth, followed by another. And another. And another.

Soon he found himself surrounded by a pack of tiller wolves, each of them eying him like he was the fattest, juiciest cow they had ever laid eyes on.

Gods above, he was going to end up as wolf shit.

What a way to go.

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-Ari

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#TheHerosBane #writeblr #story #my writing #to be continued #gay story

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