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junosartsthetic · 4 years ago

Note

Hello :) For the yandere writing prompts: Might I get Roses with Shigaraki? Please and thank you <3

"Roses. They once brought great comfort. They still bring me roses but the light in their eyes is gone."

I always get carried away writing these, oops. Anyway here you go! Also this is a tattoo parlor/flower shop AU because of course it is.

Your new shop had only been open a day when you first noticed him. You were tending to your freshly cut roses, clipping the thorns carefully, when you heard the bell on the door jingle. You turned, looking to see who had entered. “Hello, welcome to Roses and Company!” you greeted, looking the newcomer over.

He donned a black hoodie, hood over his head and hands tucked into the pockets. You noted grey-blue hair poking out from the hood. His lips were rather chapped. He didn’t reply to your greeting.

You finished tending to the roses, placing them in a vase on a shelf before walking over to the stranger. “Can I help you find anything?”

He glanced over at you. You gave him a smile. He shrugged. “I work next door. I had nothing better to do so I wanted to check this place out.” You noted his gravelly voice. He sounded irritated. Maybe that was just his tone of speaking, you thought.

You remembered the tattoo parlor next door. “You’re a tattoo artist?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

He rolled up his hoodie sleeve, showcasing a large collection of tattoos. They ranged from morbid depictions of skulls to scrawlings of words. You thought they were pretty.

“Oh, sweet. I’ve never had a tattoo but I might have to get one now that you’re right next door!”

He gestured to the bouquet of roses you’d just shelved. “How much for those?”

You were only just now realizing you’d never put price tags on anything, assuming you’d have time later today. “Oh, umm…”

He suddenly spoke up. “A tattoo for the bouquet?”

You raised a brow. “Really?”

This day was turning interesting.

He nodded.

Why the hell not, you thought, trotting over to grab the vase before handing it over. “Alright. Deal.”

Next thing you knew you were sitting in a chair, the stranger sitting beside you as he sketched out a few ideas. They were all types of flowers. He was a very good artist, you noted.

“Hey,” you spoke up, causing him to hum. “I never got your name.”

“Tomura,” he mumbled, focusing on his sketches.

You smiled. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you.”

You pointed at a sketch of a rose he had, noting it resembled the roses in the vase sitting in front of the paper. “You’re really amazing at art, Tomura. That looks incredible.”

His cheeks grew warm. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Anyway, is that the one you want?”

“It looks expensive, are you sure you want just that bouquet?”

He nodded. “It’s fine. I don’t care about money. I just enjoy the art.”

Within a few minutes, he had laid down the stencil for the tattoo, and you braced yourself for the inking needle.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The sensation of the needle hitting your arm made you jump, but it wasn’t as bad as you imagined. Your eyes watered slightly as he continued his work.

It only took about an hour to complete, and you talked to him during this time, Tomura occasionally responding but mostly just listening.

He realized he really liked your voice. And your calm demeanor. He didn’t know why he suddenly made a deal with you, or why he insisted on giving you a free tattoo. He’d never done anything like this for anyone else. What made you special? He didn’t even really know you. It was odd. He’d have to discuss it with Kurogiri later.

“It’s done,” he spoke after some time, putting the ink needle down and cracking his wrists. He’d usually take a break during tattooing, but he decided to push onward for yours, strangely.

“It looks amazing,” you commented, gazing at your freshly inked arm. “Thank you, Tomura. And you were right, it didn’t really hurt.”

“You should probably get back to your store,” he noted. “Let me wrap it up and I’ll check on it tomorrow.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Sounds good!”

The next day, he showed up at your shop as promised, and you waved him over. “Hey, Tomura. Nice to see you again.”

You gestured to your new tattoo. “It seems to be doing good. I’ve been doing everything you’ve said to take care of it.”

He looked it over before his eyes roamed to your face. You were very pretty, he noticed. He liked the way you smiled at him. Nobody had smiled at him like that before. It made him feel nice.

“Oh, here,” you said, handing him a vase full of roses. “I decided that just one wasn’t enough in exchange for this tattoo, so I wanted to give you another bouquet.”

He stared at the red flowers, freshly plucked and trimmed. They looked perfect.

He took them wordlessly. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he mumbled.

You waved him goodbye. “Alright!”

Day after day, he showed up, and day after day you gave him a bouquet of roses. He always accepted them, and you always looked forward to his visits.

Until one day, it all changed.

It had been a month since you’d opened up shop, and your tattoo had healed up nicely.

You were rather busy today, so when you didn’t see Tomura at all you brushed it off as just missing him when he walked in.

When 10 pm rolled around, you began to close up shop.

You were prepared to walk out, purse in hand, when you saw a figure outside. You quickly recognized him as Tomura.

“Oh, hey! I thought you had already stopped by and I just hadn’t noticed you! I’ve already stored all of the roses away for today but I’ll give you two bouquets tomorrow! Promise!”

Tomura waved it off. “No, I’m not here for that. I wanted to repay you for all of your kindness.”

You cocked your head. “Oh, I don’t need any payment or anything. You’ve been a dear to me!”

He held his hand out, grasping yours. “You don’t have to keep up your ruse. I’m not a likeable person. I know that. But still, you look at me with such kindness. And I can’t get you out of my head.”

You stared blankly. “What do you mean, Tomura? Are you confessing to me or something?” You laughed, meaning it as a joke, but the way his hand squeezed yours, you realized he was completely serious.

“Every waking moment I think of you. I still have all of your bouquets you know, I’ve taken such good care of them. They’re all alive and well. Let me take you to them. They’re just inside my shop.”

You gripped your purse nervously. What had gotten into him?

“Oh, I’m glad you like them. Flowers can be tricky to take care of. Especially roses. People don’t like their thorns.”

He began to tug on your hand, guiding you next door. “C’mon. I’ll show you.”

Despite the lurking feeling of dread, you followed him without question. You knew Tomura. He wouldn’t do anything weird to you. He was a friend.

He led you inside, walking towards a door in the back of the tattoo parlor. You noticed a large chain and a lock on the door. He used his free hand to unlock it, the key dangling on a necklace tucked into his hoodie.

He led you inside.

There, on the walls of the small closet, vases of roses lined the shelves. You noticed they were all pristine, as healthy as the day you handed them to Tomura.

“Wow,” you said, letting go of his hand to caress a rose. “They’re so vibrant. You’d make a good florist, Tomura. You’ve taken great care of these. It’s amazing. They all look really healthy.”

You heard shuffling behind you. You moved to turn around, but a cloth pressed against your face stopped you. An arm wrapped around your waist, locking you against a chest as a chemical entered your airways. You attempted to scream, but no luck. Petrified, you could only wiggle in his grasp as your body began to weaken.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), but it’s for the best.”

When you awoke, you noticed you were still in the closet, though resting on a loveseat tucked into the corner. There was nobody with you. “Tomura!” you called, struggling to stand. You felt dizzy, and your legs wouldn’t move. “Hello!” you cried. You tried to wiggle your toes, but you couldn’t. What the hell was going on.

“Someone help me!”

The door unlocked, and in stepped Tomura. His hood was off. He’d never taken his hood off before. You looked into his eyes and saw blazing madness. He scratched his neck violently, smiling widely. “Oh good, you’re awake! I thought I’d knocked you out for good! That would have been awful!”

You recoiled in the chair, uselessly attempting to move your legs and escape.

“Sorry, little rose, but I had to. I couldn’t have you leaving me!”

Your eyes widened, terrified. What had he done to your legs; why couldn’t you feel them.

“Tomura, stop it. You’re acting crazy,” you cried, tears pricking your eyes. “Let me go!”

He shook his head. “I can’t. You don’t understand. I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can never let you leave me!”

You began to shake, sobbing.

He stepped towards you. “Don’t cry. I’ll take good care of you. You’re the most important of my flowers, don’t you see? You were giving me all of these roses, when you were the only rose I needed!

You cast your gaze to your tattoo as a new wave of tears struck you.

He said nothing else, only turning on his heels and walking out of the closet. The door closed, and you heard the chain clanking as the lock clicked.

You were trapped here. With no ability to walk. And no way out.

As Tomura locked you in the small room, his mind was racing. He’d done it. He’d finally gotten you all to himself. His heart beat rapidly, and he clenched his hands tightly. He was euphoric. And yet, that look in your eyes hit a soft spot in him. Was this the right thing to do? He shook this feeling aside. Of course it was. There was no other way. He had to have you. He had to protect you. He had to keep you healthy, just like the other roses...

Some time had passed, weeks maybe, you’d lost track, and you grew quiet and lethargic. You wouldn’t speak. You wouldn’t look at him. You wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Still, he’d give you food and water. He helped you clean, giving you baths in the tub above the parlor. He even carried you up the stairs, being that your legs were now permanently paralyzed.

Every few days, after the parlor had closed, he’d carry you to a seat, giving you a new tattoo. It was always a rose.

Roses. They once brought great comfort to you. You used to love them. You would love giving Tomura a bouquet each day he visited. Technically, you were still bringing him roses, only he inked them onto your skin. You became his bouquet.

“You still bring me roses,” Tomura muttered quietly, buzzing the flower into your reddened skin, “but the light in your eyes is gone.”

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slasherbastard · 4 years ago

Note

Could you please place my order but if it is too complicated you can disregard it.

Imagine that the Slachers (Michael, Jason, Brahms, Vincent and Bo) come home or something and see their beloved's best friend declaring that he misses her and that he loves her, then that friend gives him a kiss on the mouth {for demonstrate your love}.

What would be the boys' reaction to seeing this scene? And what will happen next?

thank you for the request! i’ve been wanting to write this request out ever since i got it, also a quick warning for non-consensual kissing

(gif credit: thepumpkin-queenn)

Michael Myers

Yet another quiet night spent waiting for Michael to return from his 'night job' and you were spending this lonely night watching horror movies like you usually did. The character wandered around in the dark helplessly trying to distance herself from the killer and just as the killer jumped out, there a knock on the front door. You jumped up and turned to the door and checked the time, Michael wasn't meant to be home for a few more hours. Suspicious, you grabbed the knife sitting on the coffee table - Michael taught you how to defend yourself although he still worries you'll end up stabbing yourself instead of any intruders - and creeped up to the door, you knew Michael wasn't one for knocking and usually just barged in since you always left the door unlocked for him.

As you got closer you could hear talking. "- Shit what if I got the wrong address? Y/N? Hello? It's me, Y/F/N!" You froze and dropped the knife, you haven't heard from this guy in years, how did he find you? You quickly picked the knife back up and slid it into the waistband of your jeans just in case and opened the door, and yeah it was him alright. "Y/N? It's really you?" Without warning he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug which you returned, the two of you broke apart and your friend let himself past you into the house, you weren't planning on doing anything because you knew Michael wouldn't forgive you but you were still worried about what would happen if he came home to find this complete stranger in his house.

"Y/F/N, I hope I don't sound mean but what are you doing here?" "I wanted to do this" He pulled you in and kissed you, smiling as he pulled away but that smile faded as he realised you weren't even looking at him. "What is it, Y/N?" He said amusingly as he followed your eyes and turned around to see what you were looking at, only to be stabbed in the chest by the infamous Shape, Michael Myers. Michael removed the knife and watched Y/F/N fall to the ground, calling for your help before passing out. Michael slammed the door and stared back at you waiting for an explanation to what he just witnessed.

"I swear I didn't kiss him back. He just found out where I was living, came in and kissed me." The words felt like a lie as they passed your lips but you weren't lying. You were scared Michael was going to kill you as well but instead he just stood there and continued to stare. "I don't have feelings for him, he was just an old friend from school." You heard a grunt coming from behind the mask as he approached the body and picked it up before disappearing outside with it. You yourself decided to disappear upstairs and go to bed.

You waited and waited for Michael to join you but he never did. At one point you got tired of waiting and got tired in general and decided to just call it a night and fall asleep and if you got stabbed mid-dream then at least it would most likely hurt less. At one point you woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of someone shuffling into the room and the creaking of the floor. You lazily turned to just see Michael in your view and yawned as you sat up and switched on the lamp beside you, he was taking off his coveralls which looked a little more bloodier than usual which did raise a few questions that you were too tired and too concerned to ask, but there was one question you felt like you had to ask.

"Do you hate me?" Michael looked over at you and tilted his head in confusion as his bloody clothes fell to the floor and he slid on a different t-shirt. "I swear he just kissed me but I didn't kiss back. Do you hate me?" Michael didn't move for a few moments but eventually he removed his mask and shook his head, then he got into bed and pulled you into his body. You turned off the lamp as he lazily played with your hair. You felt like he was still mad at you to some extent, but knowing that he decided to let you live another day was a relief.

(gif credit: vhs-ninja)

Jason Voorhees

Sometimes it got very lonely at Camp Crystal Lake, as much as you loved Jason you also missed a lot of your friends and family who you never got to see since Jason hated being away from you and he also hated letting people leave the campsite alive. Sometimes you'd bring up letting a friend visit for just the day but Jason would always either shake his head or sign "No." at you. Jason felt a bit guilty for saying no but he was afraid of losing you and just knowing that there were people out there who were 1000% better than he was made him want to shrivel up at the bottom of the lake.

As worried as he is, he trusts you a lot so he waited until you were ready to ask the question and signed "Yes." before you could even say it. Your smile warmed his heart and he knew that you had no ill intentions with this friend of yours, the only thing that saddened Jason was that he couldn't meet this friend of yours and would have to hide - or in this case, lurk in the background just in case.

Jason couldn't help but feel a bad vibe from that friend of yours but he didn't want to ruin the moment so he just watched from behind a few trees. Everything was fine, you and your friend were sitting on the pier with your feet dangling over the lake, just talking about drama you missed in your hometown. "So, what's with you living on this campsite?" "Oh I don't live here. My house is through that forest-y area over there, I just like coming here to clear my mind."

"Can we go back to your place?" "Oh, I didn't finish cleaning. Lets just stay here for a while" you lied but your friend was already getting up and walking around so you followed him, hopping as you tried to keep up with him as you slipped your shoes back on. You were hesitant but guided him to the old cabin you and Jason were still revamping in the middle of the woods. You looked up and noticed Jason peaking out from behind a bush and subtly nodded at him as reassurance at everything was okay.

You were making lunch for the two of you when you noticed your friend sneaking looks at you through the reflection in the window in front of you but thought nothing of it. You looked past the reflection of your friend's face and out the window to see Jason was staring at you again, you smiled and signed "I am okay." at him, only seconds later your friend was behind you. He grabbed you and turned you around. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time." He paused before going in to kiss you softly.

Jason wasn't happy, watching the scene take place, he was at the cabin and before you knew it, Jason's machete's was lodged into your friend's skull and then he was dead. At that point you were worried that Jason had lost all trust in you and was probably going to kill you as he took a step closer to you and grabbed you but instead he pulled you in and enveloped your body into his and you began to cry and endlessly apologise.

A long night of cuddling and reassurance will fix it. Jason got rid of the body long ago and made you tea immediately after that. "I'm sorry." You signed at Jason. "For what? It was his fault and I know you'd never do that." It was comforting to know that Jason didn't hate you or blame you for it. Sure you were sad that one of your close friends was dead but you were also relieved that Jason was there to help.

(gif credit: prurientpuddlejumper)

Brahms Heelshire

"No, No guests allowed! That's the rules!" Brahms angrily growled. "Oh please Brahms, I haven't seen him in forever, he's just a friend from my hometown. We're strictly friends." Brahms stubbornly shook his head and stomped off leaving you alone. You groaned in annoyance and continued working on cooking dinner. A friend from your old town was in the UK for some business and wanted to come visit for a few hours but Brahms was very serious about his rules and his feelings for you - especially the rules. You knew Brahms wasn't going to follow through and let this stranger into his home but at least you tried.

During dinner Brahms spoke up, "Fine. But only for an hour." You looked up at Brahms who was clearly avoiding your gaze. "Really?" He nodded and you smiled, thanking him and going back to eating "- If you give me two goodnight kisses every night this month." You laughed and agreed to it, too excited to see Y/F/N. You called him immediately after dinner while Brahms quietly listened to the conversation through the phone, still very jealous but also trying to test you to see if you really were loyal enough to not cheat on him.

The day Y/F/N was supposed to be visiting, Brahms stayed hidden in the walls and watched as you nervously paced around near the front door waiting for Y/F/N's car to pull up. When he showed up, Brahms watched as you both excitedly hugged and talked about how much you both missed each other, you looked so happy. Usually Brahms loved seeing you smile but mostly when he was the reason you were smiling, not whoever this 'Y/F/N' is. Brahms stomping around could be heard from outside the walls where you and your friend were talking who was obviously curious about it. "There's rats in the walls, I have to clean the traps out every morning."

The hour came to an end before the three of you knew it and you were getting ready to say bye to Y/F/N. "Y/N? Before I leave I wanted to ask you something." You nodded and he put down his bag. "We've been friends for like what, 3 years, has it been? I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me. I know I have a girlfriend already but things haven't been going well for us and-" Y/F/N's voice was drowned out by your thoughts, you knew Brahms was listening and you were very worried that he was going to get the wrong idea very quickly.

"Uh Y/F/N I-" He cut you off by kissing you. It all happened so quickly that you didn't have time to process it before you pushed him off you and backed away from him by a few steps. "Y/F/N, I- I can't. I have a boyfriend." he looked confused and ran a hand through his hair. "I think you should leave." You muttered just loud enough for him to hear but he didn't move. "Y/N I thought we had something. I saw the way you used to look at me and-" "Yes, USED to. Just leave." Y/F/N looked like he was about to say something but instead he grabbed his bag and pushed past you. You waited a few seconds before hearing a scream coming from the parlour and ran over to see Brahms choking Y/F/N out on the floor.

"My Y/N! They are Mine! Not yours!" You watched as Brahms choked out your friend and waited for him to see you standing there. Y/F/N fell to the floor and Brahms turned to you. "Promise me that you don't love him." Brahms began making his way towards you. "I don't love him. I love you, Brahms." You couldn't see Brahms' real expression through that porcelain mask of his. "I promise I love you, so much more than I could ever love him." Brahms craned his neck to the side and tilted his head so he was almost at your level, pressing those porcelain lips against yours, which you kissed back in an instant.

(gif credit: thatmyerschick21)

Bo Sinclair

Bo is very possessive of you and will not let anybody else touch you, not even his brothers of course. When you came in contact with an old friend they were desperate to reunite with you and begged to see you but Bo never lets you leave Ambrose. Hell, he won't even let you out of his sight most of the time, so you had two more choices - you could either reject the idea of seeing your friend, or you could bring them to Ambrose and just pray that Bo doesn't get too jealous. When you finally built up the courage to ask Bo if a friend could visit and hopefully leave the town alive he happily obliged which was a surprise but you decided not to question it too much.

While Y/F/N is around, Bo is way more touchy. Bo will grab your ass out of nowhere and stand a little too close to you, sometimes he'll even pull you away from a conversation just to kiss you before going back to doing whatever he was doing. You knew Bo was definitely jealous and as fun as it could be to mess with him it was also dangerous. After some persuading, you finally managed to get Bo to leave the two of you alone at the house - he needed to work on his truck anyways.

Bo wasn't happy with leaving you with this random guy but he trusted that you wouldn't pull anything. You and your friend spent the rest of the day just talking and catching up, you weren't sure what Bo was so worried about - you began sneaking quick glances at the window to make sure that he wasn't standing there watching the two of you. The day was coming to an end and plans changed when Y/F/N decided to leave only to realise that his car wasn't starting and Bo was nowhere to be seen.

Having no other choice, Y/F/N decided to stay the night. You set up his makeshift bed on the couch and decided to watch a movie since Bo wasn't back yet. At first you two were just sitting together but eventually you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder as you began to get more and more tired. "Hey, Y/N?" Y/F/N whispered, not sure if you were still awake or not. You looked up at him and before you could process anything his lips were on yours. You tried to pull away but he was starting to get more aggressive, tugging at your shirt in a lousy attempt to rip the fabric as you continued trying to push him off of you.

"Hey what the fuck is this?" Y/F/N jumped off the couch and Bo was standing there, he was so red you'd mistake him for the devil. It was quick but Bo managed to grab your friend and begin beating the crap out of him while you yelled and begged him to stop - which was useless. Once Bo was sure that your friend wasn't breathing he stopped and looked at you. "You're welcome." He said bluntly before giving your friend's body one last kick in the side and throwing it over his shoulder and taking it outside.

Obviously you were nervous, was Bo going to punish you? How much of that did he see? Did he see Y/F/N come onto you or did he just assume you were cheating on him? You were a little scared and tried to wait up for Bo but you were tired and thought about calling it a night but suddenly you weren't so tired. You wanted to melt into Bo's touch but you knew he was pissed at you so you decided that going to bed was a good idea, even if that meant not actually sleeping and just staring at the ceiling until the sun blinded you.

When you woke up the next morning you were expecting Bo to either start an argument or take you to one of the few buildings in town to admire Vincent's newest work, but then it came to your attention that he'd gotten his brother Lester to dump your friend's body in the pit outside of town. As inhumane as it sounded - ignoring the fact that your boyfriend is a murderer - you weren't upset, you were glad that Y/F/N got what he deserved and Bo was glad that you felt the same way. Yes, Bo was still very annoyed but he knew it wasn't your fault.

(gif credit: stabhappyslashers)

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent definitely wasn't thrilled about the idea of a friend visiting because he was scared of losing you. No matter how many times you told Vincent you'd never leave him he never fully believed you. Sure, you're a very open minded and friendly person who managed to love him for how he looks and his job but that didn't mean that you would stay with him forever - you were bound to find someone better than him.

After a lot of coaxing and promising, Vincent finally gave in and allowed you to let your friend visit as long as you told your friend that you were in a relationship and as long as Vincent didn't have to meet this friend of yours - but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on the two of you. He watched as you both walked around town and visited the House of Wax. Vincent found himself peering at the two of you from one of the windows on the outside.

"This place is weird. Why would you want to live in an abandoned town, anyways?" Y/F/N said, obviously very creeped out as he poked at one of the wax figures. "You've always been into a lot of weird shit, I see you haven't changed since high school." He half joked causing you to playfully roll your eyes and look at him. You were very much aware that Vincent was watching. "I'm not alone. I live here with my boyfriend."

"What boyfriend? This entire time I've been here, he hasn't shown up. I'm starting to think you're just playing hard to get." You felt sick. "W-Well, he's busy, he works and stuff." Y/F/N got closer. "What does this boyfriend of yours do?" He placed his hand on yours and you swore you heard something coming from below the two of you but Y/F/N was too focused on you to even react.

"Y/F/N, I'm serious." "So am I." He tried to kiss you but you shoved him back, knocking him into one of the figures which shattered on the floor, broken wax and bone fragments dumped on the floor. Your friend saw this and widened his eyes as he looked back at you and began to crawl away from you. "What the fuck is this? Is this a joke?" By now you were crying but your breath hitched in your throat as you saw Vincent creeping up behind Y/F/N holding two knives. You didn't speak as Y/F/N continued his rant and tried to get away from you while paying no attention to your boyfriend.

Long story short, somebody had to replace that broken wax figure and Y/F/N's visit couldn't have been anymore perfect. Vincent was upset about what'd happened but he was just glad that you were still with him even after all that. He didn't fully understand how you could still love him after that but you did and that was good enough for him.

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kenzieam · 4 years ago

Text

Touch

Rating: M

Warnings: Major Angst, heartache, some language

Word Count: 3595

Tags: @jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iammarylastar @captstefanbrandt @badassbaker @pinknerdpanda @oliviastan17 @mizzzpink

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As time runs out, Lev remembers her first encounters with Bucky, and how the touch-starved, damaged man became just as important to her as she is to him.

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HEADS UP..... MAJOR ANGST AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. i DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I WRITE THIS SHIT, IT JUST MAKES ME CRY.

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Shit, I’m cold.

But at least it doesn’t hurt anymore.

I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped down here; things have gotten hazy.

It’s been a while though; I can’t hear half as many people screaming for help as before.

I’ve had time to figure out what happened at least, with nothing else to do but lay here, slowly suffocating.

My day, I think it’s fair to say, has gone spectacularly to shit.

I think it was an explosion that made the building collapse, but things were happening so goddamn fast I can’t say for sure.

Either way, I’m here, trapped, and I’m pretty sure I’m dying.

Figures, Bucky didn’t want me to go to this convention. If I live through this, I’ll never hear the end of it; Bucky hates being apart from me, because I’m not enhanced like he is, he thinks I’m fragile.

And to be honest, I’m feeling pretty goddamn fragile right now.

My back is arched, bowed backwards to where I could almost grab my ass with the arm that’s twisted back behind my head; my fingers are in the perfect place to scratch any itch I might have between my shoulder blades, but an itch is the least of my problems right now.

I can’t feel my legs.

I don’t know if it’s the fact that a large section of concrete wall is pinning me from the hips down, or if its something more sinister and permanent, a broken back perhaps. Either way, I can’t see my legs or feel them. Maybe they’re not even there anymore.

Would Bucky still love me if I were broken? No longer whole?

I think he would, he knows what it’s like to be incomplete. So many times, after we’ve made love, he’ll hold me and tell me how much he loves me, how I complete him, make him feel whole for the first time in nearly a century.

It’s a heady sensation, to know someone as powerful and legendary as James Barnes loves you.

I never expected to find someone like him, to feel the things he makes me feel.

It breaks my heart that it’s probably all going to end today, with me trapped, alone, in my proverbial coffin.

Was it only three and a half years ago I heard Tony Stark was hiring and me, fresh out of school with the ink on my doctorate of Physical Therapy not yet dry, decided on a whim to apply?

I never expected a call from the man himself, never expected to be given such a huge opportunity so early in my burgeoning career.

But Tony had a plan. People get hurt all the time, secretaries with carpel tunnel, agents with bruises and bumps, Avengers with broken bones earned on their newest mission, it only made sense to bring in a full time PT to the medical labs in the Avengers Complex, and Tony wanted someone fresh and new, someone without any bad habits to break as he put it, which is ironic when you consider all the bad habits Stark himself has.

I’m still working on refining his damn posture in front of the computer, but I think it’s a losing battle.

My job was soon revealed, to help after Bruce and Helen had worked their magic, regain range of motion, stretch and massage damaged muscles, ensure the team ran at their peak.

While my job originally was supposed to include the entire Complex, it soon became obvious that all my attention would need to be devoted to the team of superheroes themselves and, after a few months of commuting to and from my small studio in the city, I gave into Stark’s less than subtle hints and moved directly into the Complex myself, becoming a round-the-clock, on-call-all-the-time member of the team.

My first interactions with Bucky were minimal, a shadow lurking behind the much more gregarious Captain America himself. I didn’t take it personally because, from what I could see and had heard, the former assassin stayed as far away from everyone that he possibly could.

But he ended up being half dragged to me by Steve himself a few months into my job, due to a lingering pain in the juncture of his shoulder from a recent injury; or more accurately, from a recent injury on the training mats that merely brought back the pain Bucky had apparently been struggling with off and on ever since HYDRA attached his first bionic arm.

The big man didn’t want to be there, I could tell and only his loyalty and commitment to his oldest friend kept his ass on the table as I examined the puffy, angry red scar tissue, his body rigid beneath my exploratory touch.

I knew enough of his past to realize that Bucky’s aversion to me was part of, if not wholly, due to the rough and cruel way HYDRA had treated him, when every contact meant hurt and degradation, but it still affected me. What had he lived through that had taught him that even simple touch meant pain? And how, with the very nature of my work involving discomfort, did I help him?

“Can you rotate your arm?” I ask quietly. When he hesitates, I continue. “I need to feel the joint when you move it.”

He nods silently, accepting the fact that my hands need to stay on him, press in lightly while he rotates his shoulder and, most likely, increase the pain he already feels.

I fall silent, close me eyes to help concentrate as he complies. “Again, please.”

I finger a particular point, deep in the joint and Bucky flinches, swallowing a low groan. I instantly feel horrible, for surely, to make Bucky react at all the pain I just caused must have been extraordinary, but it gives me something to focus on.

I pull away, trying to ignore the way his skin makes my fingers tingle; must be related to his serum-enhancement, my mind studiously ignoring the fact that touching Steve doesn’t illicit the same sensation and offer him a smile.

“I think a lot of that discomfort can be managed with massage, relaxing and sorting out the muscles involved. I’d prefer to try that, rather than jumping into more invasive therapies right away.”

I wait for his response, glancing at Steve when it appears for a beat that Bucky hasn’t even heard me but then it hits me.

Massage.

Continuous touch, continuous pain while he will be forced to lay immobile, tolerating it soundlessly.

Pretty much Bucky’s worst nightmare.

Shit.

Steve shifts his weight, clears his throat. He’s obviously torn between answering for his friend and letting Bucky decide, although it’s clear he expects Barnes to reject the proposal, to push on grimly through the ache and potentially damage his body more.

“Okay.” His voice is so low I almost don’t hear him.

“I’m sorry?” I lean closer, frowning with concentration. Fuck, for so huge and imposing a man, the guy can make himself practically invisible, even right beside you.

“Okay,” he repeats, barely raising his voice. “We’ll try.”

“I’ll do my best,” I feel compelled to reassure him, barely stopping myself from resting my hand on his shoulder, pulling back at the last second when I remember that that would probably be the last thing to calm the man. “To make it as tolerable, as pain-free as possible.”

Bucky nods but doesn’t answer.

“Want to start now?” Steve asks carefully, glancing between me and Bucky. I don’t know what Bucky will say, but I’ve probably filled his quota of contact today.

A silent head shake, his lank brown hair swinging, a quick but interesting glance up at my face. Is he concerned about my reaction?

“Tomorrow?” I ask gently. At his nod I continue, running through my schedule in my head and I know these two usually go running in the morning, hitting the gym after and then grabbing something to eat. “How about after lunch?”

“Okay.” Christ, the man’s voice is so quiet and soft, it doesn’t fit with his appearance. He looks like a beast, huge and muscular, danger radiating out of every pore. Its so much easier to visualize him as the cruel assassin The Winter Soldier than as a traumatized prisoner of war. That is, until you look in his eyes; then the muscles, the bulk and silent intimidating air all fall apart.

The concrete around me creaks, the rubble threatening to shift, and I hold my breath. It’s getting harder to breathe but I don’t know if that’s because of the way my torso is twisted, or just a general lack of fresh oxygen. I can’t see any daylight anywhere, of feel any type of air movement, but I also can’t move any part of myself around to look. For all I know, there could be a way out of this mess directly behind me, but I’m pinned.

How long has it been? I think I greyed out for a minute there, remembering one of my first meaningful encounters with Bucky, the first time he answered me, agreed to try massage therapy for his shoulder. The trust he showed wasn’t lost on me.

The building groans, as if its in pain too and I fight a rising panic. The voices I could hear around me have gotten less and less, the faint screams for help devolving into wordless, animal cries of agony before cutting off altogether and I wonder if anyone is even still alive. Is there any type of rescue effort yet? Has there been some kind of terrorist act that’s holding up my salvation?

Have they told Bucky?

The convention was a couple of thousand miles away from the Compound, even with the quinjet Bucky and I were hours apart.

Is he out there right now? Digging for me?

My mind wanders again as a fresh stab of agony shoot through my torso, ending curiously at my hips.

I look up at the soft knock at my office door and smile.

“Hello, James.”

His eyes meet mine, just for the barest heartbeat before dropping. “Bucky,” he murmurs.

“Bucky.” I agree, my smile widening at his soft, endearing air. I want to just gather him up and give him a hug, show him that there is love and gentleness in the world and he deserves it too; although, to be honest, I’d just look like a koala hanging off him, God, he’s beefy.

He follows me soundlessly through the Physio department, to the room I’ve set up strictly for massage therapy. I put myself through school moonlighting as a masseuse, and that was one of Tony’s first requests, that I set up shop again. It seems some days that half of my job is just massage, but I’m not complaining; I enjoyed it in school and it’s just as amiable now.

I gesture to the table, draped with clean sheets. “I’m just going to work on your back and shoulders, so you just need to take your shirt off, if you want to remove your pants too, that’s fine. Lay face down and there’s a sheet to put over yourself when you’re ready. I’ll be right back.”

He nods again but there’s a tension in his body now. Is it because he’s going to be showing his arm, the angry scars that surround it? I’ve seen it before, but it seems to be an enduring shame with him, and I make a note not to draw attention to it.

“Are you ready?” I knock softly and ask through the door, hear his quiet confirmation. I turn the lights lower as I enter, explaining as I do. “I’m just turning the lights down a bit.” I busy myself at the small table covered in different types of massage oil. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t relax under full lighting.” He mumbles some sort of agreement, head lowered into the u-shaped cushion. He’s laying face down, like I requested, but he’s anything but relaxed. Fists clenched tight, breathing quickly, he’s not letting go, not yet. “I can play some music if you want?”

“Okay.”

I pause, then speak. “Bucky? We can hold off; you seem a little tense-”

“No.” He lifts his head to look at me. “I’ll lay still, I promise. Just go ahead…. I won’t react, I can take it.”

I shake my head, that’s not the point. “No, Bucky. That’s not how it works here.”

He lifts his head again after dropping it during his statement about laying still, frowning thoughtfully, if a little suspiciously.

“You don’t have to just lay here and ‘take it’. This is for you, if you get uncomfortable, if you want me to stop, you say so and we’ll take a break. I don’t want you to just lay here and endure the pain. If it hurts, tell me; if you start to get overwhelmed, tell me. The last thing I want is to make this another bad experience for you.”

He pauses then, forehead furrowing slightly. From what I’ve gathered regarding his past, free choice wasn’t something ever offered to him, HYDRA would just order him to lay stay and endure whatever torture or torment they were performing.

That shit doesn’t fly here.

“You are in charge.” I squat at the head of the table to meet his eyes, wanting him to really hear me. “I will not do anything to you that you don’t consent to. I can’t guarantee it won’t hurt, but I will only do want you allow me to, okay?”

Something flickers through his eyes, something soft and vulnerable and I get the feeling that he will lay here for me through the worst pain, if only because I gave him the control to, something he’s never been given before.

“Okay,” he replies quietly.

“I’m not going to lie, the harder I work, the more it hurts initially, the quicker the pain will be over.”

He nods and I think he’s relieved that someone is taking the time and consideration to include him in what’s going to be done to his own body.

“But we go at your speed, okay?”

“Okay.”

I stand again, reach over and turn on my playlist, a compilation of soft, bluesy swamp rock and acoustic melodies and begin.

I’m getting tired.

Is it dark outside too?

Will I ever see the sky again?

I can’t think that way, I can’t give up. Not on myself, not on Bucky.

He will come for me; I just have to hold on until then.

My mind continues to wander, trying to distract itself from the growing lassitude in my body. The weariness, the lethargy scares me, I wish I could still feel the pain, at least I’d know I’m still here, existing, even with the agony.

I remember the way our relationship progressed, slow and cautious, tentative.

Slowly his body would turn from iron to relaxed muscles beneath my touch, slowly there would be anticipation, maybe even eagerness in his eyes when he’d walk into the department, rather than grim resignation.

Once he fell asleep on me, facedown on the massage table and I let him nap, leaving the music and lights low, the door cracked, waiting for him to wake as I went about with other duties, finally seeing him emerge looked a little shamefaced, smiling tentatively in apology as I worked with Sam on a range of motion exercise for his recently injured knee.

That seemed to be the final barrier.

After that, I was one of the few people Bucky actually chose to seek out, a rare and exclusive club.

It was easy to love him.

For even as I seemed to be a source of comfort and contentment for him, he too was my bastion of strength, my rock.

If he could wake up each morning and push on, then anything I encountered in life was conquerable too.

“Baby.” He groans, lips brushing my ear.

His powerful body moves above me, inside me, bringing me to heights of pleasure I’ve never felt before.

It’s our first-time making love together, and in some ways, it’s like its truly the first time for both of us.

He’s so gentle and tender, careful with how he handles me, like I’m precious glass in his large, powerful hands.

He cradles me as he thrusts, holding me close to him, whimpers faintly and its that sound of pure vulnerable surrender that pushes me over the edge. He follows, groaning my name into my hair as his body shudders. I feel him pulse inside me, the most peaceful feeling of rightness suffusing my limbs.

Right here.

This is where I’m meant to be.

This is the point my entire life has been leading to.

He collapses beside me, breathing heavily and I roll to the side, resting my arm across his heaving chest. The faint flinch he always had, that he still has with most other people, is gone. He trusts me completely and it’s a gift I will never waste.

His eyes lock with mine, searching, somehow dark with desire and light with joy at the same time. His body is ready again, hard and straining, serum-enhanced and close to insatiable.

I roll to straddle him, his eyes following me. His hands reach up and I clasp them, twine our fingers together, press against them as I sink down onto his cock, watch his eyes roll back in his head with ecstasy. I roll my hips, encouraged by the sounds my movements draw from him, the low groans and grunts, moans and hums of pleasure.

“Fuck-” he curses and my heart dances.

My body is hungry, wanting more, and I increase my pace, chasing another release.

His eyes open, lock on mine once again and we stay connected like that, both in gaze and in body. I watch the emotions shine there, in his supernaturally blue depths, see the vulnerability there, something akin to awe, as if he has trouble believing he’d ever be this way again, open and honest and bare with someone else, trusting them in so many ways.

“Bucky-” my voice drops into a whine as my peak hits, my eyes closing.

“No.” He orders and my eyes snap open. “Let me see you, baby. Let me watch you.”

Our eyes lock again as I give in and then he’s coming too, thrusting up into me one last time, eyes burning into mine, the expression in them driving me into another, simultaneous orgasm, which infinity loops back into Bucky, his body shuddering as my walls milk him, drawing his seed hungrily, and I realize that there’s few things I’d rather be in this world right now, than joined so viscerally with him like this.

The only thing that would make this better would be if his seed takes root inside me and I’m able to give him a child, a second chance, an opportunity for unconditional love.

I cough, wince at the pain that flares in my chest, taste copper in my mouth.

It won’t be long now, I feel the truth in my bones and, while it breaks my heart, I still fight it.

I need to see Bucky, even if its for the last time.

I’ll miss our life together, the way he always sought me out, wherever I was.

Touch-starved as he was, for nearly a century, once Bucky learned he could trust me, began to touch me whenever he could.

An arm around me from behind, lips on my neck. Tight hugs for no reason, seeming to recharge at our connection. Waking tangled up with the huge cuddle-bug, barely knowing where I ended, and he began.

And the way he’d cling to me on the couch, even if others were there too, uncaring about what they thought. Curled against me like a child, head buried in my neck, almost purring under my touch as I ran my hands along his back and shoulders, like stroking and taming a large beast, soaking in the touch-love like parched earth and water.

After almost a century of starving, he was hungry for connection now, for my touch.

I hate that I’ll be taking that from him.

Slight sounds I’ve been hearing sporadically for a while now but not really able to make out become faint rustles nearby, a muffled call.

The rubble creaks, threatens to shift and, after a fraught pause, the rustling continues.

“Lev?!” I hear someone call, faint and blurry, but the way the word cuts tells me they’re screaming.

I try to answer but can only croak.

The weight on my body is almost too much now, the exhaustion pulling me further and further down. My belly feels heavy and a faint part of me muses that I’m probably bleeding internally, probably have been since I came to in this horrible, choking blackness.

Would Bucky still love me if I were broken? No longer whole?

I know the answer.

Yes.

I loved Bucky before he was whole, when he was broken.

A giant rat is nearby, scratching, then the cutting scream again, closer and cracking with strain. I recognize it finally, Bucky’s voice, breaking with anxiety, snapping under the stress. His throat will be sore for days.

I imagine him tunneling through the rubble by hand, shaking off other’s hands that try to stop him, tell him it’s too late and there’s no way I can still be alive.

But I know he won’t stop, not until he can touch me again.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes drama #bucky and lev #bucky and levi

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disneymiraculousefandomsblog · 4 years ago

Text

Hey guys!! So I know I was taking a break from writing stories but I just couldn’t help myself so I wrote a story and I was really wanting to write a story with angst. This is not a Hugo/Varian ship story. Also thanks to @dangara2610 for helping me find a title for my story:)

Summary : Hugo is staring to get attached to Varian and the gang so he is wanting to get out of the mission Donella gave him but it does not end well for our boy.

TW: Donella, Cutting, Electrocution

AO3: link is here

Switching Loyalties

Donella had sent Hugo on an assignment to infiltrate the group and remain on good terms with Varian so he can lead him to the totems she needed. Hugo and Varian were always arguing and teasing each other like they were brothers. It had been about a week since Hugo had been undercover with the group. Varian and the gang had found the first totem and were on their way to get the second totem. Hugo was trying his best not to get attached to Varian or anyone for that matter he was on a mission to find the totems and give them to Donella that’s it. He was not there to make friends.

They stopped in the forest to camp for the night they were close to the kingdom with the second totem. They would go and get it in the morning.

Varian was the first to set up camp, “Alright guys, this looks like a good place to camp for the night” Varian stated.

“Really Hairstripe! You want us to camp out and sleep here where there can be bears or wolfs that could attack us!” Hugo said with a doubtful tone.

“For your information Hugo, there are no bears in this part of the woods. And wolfs don’t attack you unless they feel threatened so we should be fine.” Varian said sarcastically to Hugo.

“If you say so Hairstripe whatever” Hugo answered crossing his arms.

Varian rolled his eyes, “I’m going to go and get some wood to make a bomb fire to keep us warm” Varian stated.

“Maybe Young should go with you just to be safe” Nuru said with concern.

“I’ll be fine Nuru, I’ve been camping before” Varian answered.

“I know but still, and besides you can’t carry all that wood by yourself.” Nuru answered.

“Young would you like to go with Varian and help him gather wood for the fire?” Nuru asked Young.

“Sure i would like that” Young said with a smile.

“Alright If you insist” Varian said giving up.

Varian and young went to gather the wood while Hugo and Nuru stayed with the caravan. Nuru and Hugo never really talked much with each other because she felt a bit sketchy with Hugo she didn’t trust him, he never said why he was even helping Varian and he surely wouldn’t gain anything from helping him.

Nuru saw her chance to try and get to know Hugo and why he wanted to help Varian find the totems.

Nuru walked over to Hugo, “Hey Hugo, Are you ok?” Nuru asked him.

“Yeah I’m fine thanks” Hugo answered with a chuckle.

“So I know we don’t really talk much and that we don’t know each other that well, but in would like to change that. May I ask how you found Varian? and why you want to help him find the totems?” Nuru asked Hugo.

Hugo could not tell her the truth of why he really wanted the totems he had to come up with a believable story. “Well..I met Varian when he was trying to get the first totem, I the fire kingdom, I took it before they could, I mostly wanted it because I thought it would be worth something and maybe to use it for my alchemy potions. Anyway I wanted to know why Varian wanted the totems so badly. It was kinda funny to see him get upset when I took it. Once he told me why he wanted the totems and what he is going to do with them i knew he would needed my expertise to get him passed the other challenges even if he doesn’t admit it.” Hugo said with a chuckle to Nuru.

Nuru didn’t know if his story was true or not and he didn’t answer her question of what he would gain helping Varian. Hugo saw that Nuru was hesitant, “Look Nuru I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t expect you too but I’m not here to hurt Varian, I can tell you that truthfully” Hugo said with a half smile.

Nuru still didn’t trust him, but he seemed to be telling the truth. “Ok Hugo, it may take me awhile to try and trust you but I can see that you really do care for Varian so I will do my best. Thank you for being truthful” Nuru answered with a slight smile.

Varian and Yong came back with the fire wood,

“Were back! And we brought the wood for the fire” yong said with a smile.

Varian looks at Nuru and Hugo, “what happened? Did I miss something?” Varian asked.

Nuru and Hugo exchanged glances, “No we were just having a little chat” Nuru answered nervously.

“Oh what was is about?” Varian asked placing the firewood on the ground in a bundle.

“Eh, it’s nothing Hairstripe” Hugo answered.

“Oh-Ok” Varian answered hesitantly.

Varian grabbed two rocks and clicked them until sparks came out and lit up the wood. “There that should last us till morning” Varian said proudly.

“Heh thanks Hairstripe” Hugo said with a smile.

They sat around the fire and Varian made them some s’mores as a light snack and they went around telling different types of scary stories they have heard. They laughed and Hugo teased Varian with his puns and nicknames. The sun had finally set and the moon came out by the time they finished their s’mores and telling their story’s. Nuru was the first one to go to bed, “Alight guys I’m calling it a night, see you in the morning” Nuru said heading inside the caravan.

“Yeah me too I’m kinda tired, see you guys in the morning” Yong said walking behind Nuru.

“Goodnight” Varian answered.

Hugo never had fun before this was the first time experiencing fun, he enjoyed it, he never had any friends or thought he would even have any with Donella. Hugo had this weird feeling inside his stomach like he was actually starting to care for them and he could feel himself getting attached to Varian and the gang he didn’t like it. Hugo was lost in his thoughts when Varian snapped him out of it . “Hugo?” Varian asked.

Hugo snapped himself out and turned to looked at Varian, “yes Hairstripe” Hugo answered.

“I think I’m going it call it a night you coming?” Varian asked him.

Hugo wasn’t really tired and he really wanted to take a walk and clear his head.

“That’s fine Hairstripe, I’m gonna take a walk, I’ll be back later” Hugo answered nervously.

Varian knew something was up with Hugo but he went along with it. “Besides if he does not come back after awhile he could go check up on him. Ok” Varian answered with half smile.

“I’ll be back soon” Hugo said with a smile. He got up and walked into the forest, Varian stood at the door watching Hugo leave and he turned to go inside the caravan. Meanwhile someone is lurking in the darkness watching from afar. Hugo walked around pacing telling himself, “get it together Hugo!, what are you doing?, you can’t start having feelings, your on a mission!. You know what would happen if Donella found out your becoming soft...” All these thoughts flooding his mind. He saw a nearby tree and sat down under it. It had been 15min since Hugo left and Varian was getting worried but also because he couldn’t sleep either a walk would probably do him good, Varian left the caravan to look for Hugo. Hugo sat under the tree looking into the distance looked around when he heard a noise, “Hello, is someone there?” Hugo said getting up looking around seeing where the noise was coming from. He sat his eyes on a bush that was moving he got closer to get a better look and fell backwards with a small yelp.

Varian popped out from the bush, “Hugo! Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you heh” Varian said embarrassed. Varian put out his hand to help Hugo up, Hugo Gabe him his hand and Varian pulled him up. “It’s ok Hairstripe” Hugo answered dusting himself off. “So what are you doing out here? I thought you were sleeping?” Hugo asked Varian.

“Heh well I couldn’t really sleep and I saw you weren’t in bed so I thought I come check up on you and see if you were ok” Varian answered with a half smile.

“Oh I-I’m fine...just lost in thought I guess” Hugo answered with a half smile.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Varian asked.

Hugo stayed quiet he could tell Varian the truth and then once Donella Finds out that he betrayed her they would all probably get killed or he could just lie like he has been this entire time. “Uh, it’s just stupid stuff from my past it’s not really important heh” Hugo answered with a small chuckle. Varian didn’t know Hugo we’ll but he knew how it felt to not want to talk about personal stuff or your past for that matter. “Oh ok” Varian answered. There was silence for awhile then Varian broke the silence. “Hugo, I just want to say... Thank you, for helping me get the totems it means a lot to me, I know we don’t always get along and we tend to fight a lot heh, but thank you for coming along with me to find the totems.” Varian said sheepishly rubbing his hand behind his head.

“This mission really means a lot to you huh” Hugo said with a half smile.

“Hehe, yeah it does I mean I may have never met her and I don’t even know If she is alive...but I’ll at least complete her mission and find out what this secret library is and why it’s so important. And make my Mom and dad proud” Varian answered with a smile.

“Hmm, it must be nice to have parents that love you” Hugo said with a bit of sadness in his voice.

“What do you mean?” Varian asked.

“Well, I Don’t have parents like you have your dad, My Mother died giving birth to me..my dad was so angry he blamed me for killing her he said it was my fault that I should have been the one to die instead of my mom. My dad hated me so much and wanted nothing to do with me so he put me in an orphanage when I was born. At least that’s what he told the orphanage. The orphanage closed down when I was 6 and I was left alone to fend for myself. I know you don’t know what it’s like to be by yourself for so long without anyone to help you. Hugo said with a heavy sigh.

Varian sat there quietly, he knew exactly what Hugo went through because he went through the same thing when his dad was encased. Varian didn’t like talking about his past he wasn’t proud of it, but he knew Hugo needed to hear it.

“No Hugo, I know exactly how it feels to be alone for a long time. I wasn’t always a Royal Engineer I had to really work for it, I’m not as innocent as I seem I’ve done some pretty bad things that I’m not proud of” Varian said with a sigh.

Hugo looked at Varian, “pff you no! You couldn’t have done anything bad” Hugo said with disbelief.

Hugo saw Varian’s face was serious, “oh you really mean it, what could you have done that was so bad?” Hugo asked Varian.

Varian shut his eyes and remembered, “Corona was being attacked by these magical black rocks that were unbreakable no one knew where they came from or why they were sprouting for the ground, I was 14 at that time and I really wanted to get to the bottom of these black rocks so I used my alchemy and did experiments on them with different type of compounds. Anyway one day my dad came Into my lab and he didn’t really like me studying the rocks and experimenting with them because he said they were dangerous, I didn’t listen he startled me and I tossed this yellow compound all over the black rock. This yellow rock started sprouting from the rock I was so upset at my dad that he didn’t understand that I just wanted to help the people and find a way to stop the rocks, before I could tell my dad he pushed me out the way of the yellow amber and he saved me. It ended up trapping my dads arm, I told my dad that I would be back and bring help, so I went to go get the princess and she refused to help me because of the snow storm she couldn’t leave her kingdom. I was so desperate I guess grabbed her by the arms pleading to help me but I guess it looked like I was attacking her so they tossed me out into the snow...when I went back to Telly dad he was....already encased completely in the amber..” Varian said tears starting to form in his eyes.

“After that I had to fend for myself for a whole year. I was so focused in finding a way to free my dad that some days I didn’t even eat or sleep. In my fit of anger I tried taking over corona and making the royal family pay for not helping me save my dad, so I ended committing treason, kidnapping, almost killing the princess, and...just some other stuff I’m not proud of. In the end the princess managed to find a way to free my dad and I was pardoned thanks to her.” Varian said wiping away the tears.

Hugo couldn’t believe what Varian just told him, how could a young kid like Varian even be able to do that. “I’m sorry Varian, I didn’t know” Hugo answered with guilt.

“It’s ok it’s not your fault, I’m over it anyway hehe” Varian answered nervously. Varian was lying he still had nightmares about his past and what happened but he didn’t want to tell Hugo that.

Hugo looked at Varian and smiled, “Well I guess we are kinda alike in a way” Hugo said with a chuckle.

“Hehe yeah who knew right” Varian answered with a smile.

Hugo gave a half smile he started to feel guilty for what he was doing to Varian, He had already been through so much. “Ugh Hugo! Your getting soft again!Maybe if I start being mean to him he’ll stop trying to be my friend.” Hugo though you himself.

Varian saw Hugo lost in thought again and pretty quiet, “Hugo, I just want you know your not alone anymore, you have friends now, we care for each other and we help each other.” Varian said with a smile.

Hugo didn’t know what to say he never had any friends or anyone who cared for him like Varian did. “You really think we’re friends? But you don’t even know me that well, how do you know I’m not just trying to use you to get to the totems, how can you trust me?! Hugo said with aggravation. Hoping this outburst would turn down Varian from wanting to be his friend.

Varian was stunned at the sudden outburst, but Hugo was right he didn’t know him very well yet and he didn’t why Hugo was really helping him. For all he knew Hugo could be working for Someone else that wants to get to the secret Library too. “Well are you just using me to get to the totems?” Varian asked with a sigh.

Hugo stayed quiet for awhile, he probably just blew his cover, he has to think of something fast. “No.. I’m not.. but how can you call us friends if we don’t even know each other that well? You don’t know what I’ve done in my past, how can you want to be friends with someone you don’t even know? Hugo asked confused.

“Because I can see that your a good person, if the princess taught me anything it’s that every person has a good side, your a good person Hugo. I know you have had a rough past, your right I don’t know what you did in the past, But the past does not define who you are you are who you choose to be right now. I’m still learning that lesson myself hehe.”Varian answered with a chuckle.

Hugo tried his best to not ponder the words Varian just told him but he have o successes. “Maybe he’s right, maybe I can change this, I’ll just tell Donella that I don’t want to do this mission anymore and to send someone else. Maybe if I tell Varian the truth he’ll forgive me.” Hugo thought to himself. He needed to know if Varian would forgive him if he told him the truth.

“Hairstripe what if I did do something to you that seems really hard to forgive, would you forgive me anyway?” Hugo asked waiting for his response.

Varian was surprised at that Hugo would ask a question like that. He really must be going through something that he obviously does not want to talk about. Varian understood thought. He put his hand on Hugo’s shoulder, “Well it depends really... but of course I would forgive you, that’s what friends do, we all make mistakes because no one is perfect. If I have learned anything though is that everyone deserves a second chance no matter how great the mistake is. Varian answered with a smile.

Hugo was surprised how could Varian after everything he been through be so nice and forgiving he just couldn’t understand it.

“Thanks Hairstripe, I appreciate it” Hugo said with a smile.

“Heh your welcome,”Varian said with a chuckle.

“You know you are starting talking like the princess, I’ve never met her but from the stories you have told me it seems that’s something she would have said” Hugo said with small laugh.

“Haha, yeah your right, you can tell that I hang around with her to much, but that’s a good thing, if anything I need to learn more from her” Varian said with a smile.

“Hey, uhh..Thanks for...you know listing, I don’t really like to talk about my feelings heh but thanks” Hugo said trying not to make it awkward.

“Hehe it’s ok I’m the same way, I don’t like recounting my past, but sometimes it’s good to talk to someone about it. I’m glad we talked your like a brother to me Hugo and It makes you feel so much better after you know?” Varian said with a half smile.

"Heh...T-Thanks Hairstripe... I’ve never had a brother before but I do consider you as a brother too”Hugo answered with a chuckle.

Varian smiled and bumped his arm. “Well I’m going back to the caravan, you coming?” Varian asked him.

“Yeah I’ll be right behind you” Hugo answered with a arm bump.

“Ok” Varian answered walking away.

Hugo got up and dusted himself off to follow Varian when a familiar person came out from the shadows. “Hello Darling!” The women said sarcastically.

Hugo felt a chill run down his spine as he turned around to look at the women. “H-Hello Donella! What are you doing here?” Hugo asked nervously.

“Well you know I just wanted to see how the mission was going and to make sure that your doing your job. From what I just saw It seems like you have that boy wrapped around your finger he trusts you good job.” Donella said with a grin on her face.

Hugo wanted to tell Donella that he wanted to back out from the mission but he couldn’t seem to find the right words. “A-Actually that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Hugo said trying not to sound nervous. “I don’t want to do this mission anymore I want out, I can’t do this to Varian! he’s already been through a lot he deserves those totems!. Hugo said with aggravation.

Donella wasn’t surprised at Hugo’s aggression, she knew this would happen, Hugo was becoming soft and to attached with Varian. “Hugo are you becoming soft?” Donella asked walking around him.

“No! It’s just that...we’ll...” Hugo was having trouble figuring out what to say. He was getting soft and getting attached to Varian and the gang he knew it.

“Tsk.Tsk.Tsk. You are becoming soft you actually care for him don’t you?. Hmm, you see him more of like a brother than a friend right...someone you can trust and tell all your problems too.” Donella said shaking her head.

Hugo remained quiet, but he knew Donella was right he saw Varian as a brother he never had.

Donella walked around Hugo, “isn’t that true Hugo?” Donella asked. Hugo still remained quiet. Donella was not a very patient women you did what she asked you or she would make you pay for being disobedient.

Donella turned around and grabbed Hugo but he arm and sent electricity through his arm, Hugo whence in pain, “I said isn’t that right Hugo, you think of Varian as a brother?” Donella said bitterly sending another shock through his arm.

Hugo yelped In more pain and answered, “yes I do!” Hugo answered in pain while the shocks were still gonna through his body.

Donella let go on Hugo’s arm, “that’s what I thought” She said with a grin. “Now Hugo you are going to finish this mission whether you like it or not. You really don’t have a choice. I need those totems and your the only one that can get them for me because Varian trust’s you” Donella said rolling her eyes.

Hugo grabbed his arm trying to stop the pain still going through his body. “Your wrong Donella! I do have a choice. I can tell Varian the truth.. he would believe me, once he knows the truth we would get to the totems first. You wouldn’t have anyone to get those totems for you, you would have lost!” Hugo said angrily.

Donella cringed, she hated people who talked back and were rebellious against her. She grabbed her dagger and swiftly cut Hugo on the cheek. Hugo groaned in pain putting his hand on his cheek blood filled his fingers. “That was just a warning darling, don’t ever talk back to me or I will do stuff so much worst and more painful.” Donella said angrily.

Hugo face was I shock Donella did torture him but never with a dagger this was a first. She usually sends electricity in his body, or put him in the water room, Hugo thought that was the worst.

“You May think you have a choice but you don’t Hugo, I am the one that rescued you, I gave you a place to stay, I taught you everything you know, you owe me.” Donella said with a grin.

“And just in case you forget your place.” Donella grabbed Hugo by his arms and used both her hands to send electric shocks all over his body.

Hugo tried his best to break free from her grip but the electric shocks going through his body were making his nerves weak. He started yelling In Pain, the cut on his cheek didn’t seem to hurt anymore with all the electric shocks running through his body. Donella kept doing this till she felt satisfied. After a few minutes she finally let him go. Hugo fell to the ground he couldn’t feel anything his body was completely numb, he could still feel the electricity running through his body.

“Now I hope you learned your lesson. I quiet enjoyed it but know that was just a warning remember darling I can do so much worst.” Donella said with an evil grin on her face.

Hugo was trying to pull his body up, he managed to move it up an inch when Donella came over and pushed him back down to the ground with her foot.

Hugo grunted, “Listen Darling I don’t care if you tell your little friend the truth, just know that you are putting him in danger as well, because I will the same thing to him what I have done to you maybe even worst. So I say it’s best if you keep doing your job or your little friend will be in worst pain than you are now.” Donella said with a evil chuckle.

Hugo knew Donella meant it she would go after Varian just to get back at him, if he wanted Varian and his friends to be safe he had to do what she said. He would have to find another way to stop Donella without hurting his friends.

Donella saw Hugo on the ground still groaning in pain, “Before I go I need you to answer one more question, Are you going to finish the job? Or should I go after your little friend.” Donella asked him with a grin.

Hugo grunted in pain while pulling himself up, “N-No I’ll do it...I’ll finish the job.” Hugo answered in between grunts.

“Good Darling that’s what I like to hear, Remember thought that I’m watching your every move so don’t try and do anything stupid because I will find out” Donella said with a chuckle walking away back into the shadows.

Once Hugo couldn’t see Donella he tired to stand up, it took him a minute but he finally picked himself up and stood to his feet. Hugo didn’t know how he was going to explain his injury’s to Varian but he would have to come up with an explanation. He couldn’t tell Varian the truth it would put him and everyone in danger he had to continue his mission until he can find a way to stop Donella some how. He walked back to the caravan hoping Varian and the others would be asleep. Unfortunately that’s wasn’t the case Varian was awake he barely made it to the caravan as well.

Varian heard movement and turned and saw Hugo badly hurt. “Hugo! W-What happened?!” Varian rushes to his side and puts his arm around his shoulder helping him to get to the caravan to sit down on a chair.

“Nothing Hairstripe I just fell” Hugo answered trying to make it sound believable.

Varian analyzes Hugo, he had bruises on his arms and he had a cut on his cheek he know a fall could not have done that. “Hugo you have a bunch of bruises all over your arms and you have a cut on your cheek a fall does not do that... what really happened?..” Varian said with concern.

“Ugh! it’s nothing ok! I’m fine!” Hugo answered with aggravation.

“No Hugo it’s not! Your hurt and I need to know why! Did someone do this to you?.” Varian snapped back.

“It’s none of your business If someone did do it! I’m Now just leave me alone!” Hugo snapped back.

“I’m tired and I’m going to bed” Hugo said with a sigh.

Hugo got up and went to bed. Varian didn’t know what happened that had a very nice conversation while ago and now they were fighting something was up and Varian was going to get to the bottom of it somehow. Varian went into the caravan and got on his bed too. He would have to figure it out tomorrow.

The End

I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this:) I’m not really good at writing angsty stories this is like my second time writing a Fic with angst so it won’t be that great 😐. Your Feedback and Reblogs are much appreciated I love to read your comments 😊

#varian #tts fandom #varian the alchemist #tts fanfic #tangled fanfiction #varian angst #hugo angst #varian and the 7 kingdoms #tts donella #my storys #tts fic #tts hugo #tangled #fan fiction #disney fanfic #disney fic #hugo seven kingdoms #hugo the human #switching loyalties

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snarkwrites · 4 years ago

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02 pt 2 | m i n e | tim speedle | csi miami

Notes:

I’m not even gonna lie... This chapter took several turns on me. Several. I wanted to post this a day ago, but something felt.. Incomplete. Amiss. Then it clicked as I wrote the smutty oneshot for these two so I banged this out. Any errors in grammar are mine and I own that shit. We fly blind in this house, no betas.

I hope you guys are all enjoying this so far!! It’s been a fun time to write. I think that’s largely due to the fact that it’s kind of..action-y, suspense and still fluff and romance eventually?

Summary:

You never forget the one that gets away. When Sylvie and Tim are thrown together again upon her arrival in Miami, will things finally work themselves out? Can Tim keep her out of danger?

Pairing:

Tim Speedle x OFC, Sylvie.

Warnings:

Stalker tw. Huge stalker tw. Because Sylvie has herself one. There may or may not also be other crime related topics raised here, such as injury/blood, etc.. I’ll try to warn as they come, loves. I’m going to try not to be too graphic so that people can still read this, but given the way this has surprised me thus far, I make absolutely no promises as to what the future holds.

Other Parts:

[ one - two part one - soundtrack ]

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@twistnet

Other Links:

[ faq & tag list doc ]

TWO PT TWO

The wind in my hair, the Florida sun beating down on me and Billy Idol on the radio full blast. I almost felt relaxed as I drove aimlessly along the Keys. I could almost forget for a few moments that I was currently being stalked by some unknown asshole who liked to write me ten page letters detailing his disturbingly vivid fantasies about me. Bragging about what he’d do when he finally managed to get me all alone.

I was coming back from an open air flea market, the spoils of my trip flung carelessly into the backseat. In my cupholder, my cell phone started going berserk. When I saw that it was Rex calling me, probably pissed because I’d stood up a gig he spent two weeks booking after I explicitly told him I wasn’t taking said gig in as many different but firm ways possible, I let it go to voicemail.

The gas needle was getting lower and bearing the thought in mind, I pulled into a little gas station, parking the red Porsche at the pump and reaching down, grabbing my clutch. Taking my card out to swipe at the pump.

I felt eyes on me and almost immediately, I tensed. My eyes darted around and they settled on a man two pumps over. Gaping at me.

I managed a tight smile, a little nod. Because I didn’t want to seem rude, but the way he was staring at me had me immediately getting paranoid all over again. And just like that, my earlier good mood was rapidly vanishing. I sighed and reached for the unleaded pump, inserting the nozzle into the Porsche’s fuel tank opening. Swiping my card and waiting. Tapping my foot because the clerk inside the station wasn’t even paying attention and the man two pumps over was now leaned against his silver BMW, arms folded over his chest, watching me like a hawk.

I realized that I wasn’t going to get away from the situation any faster unless I made my way inside to let the clerk know I needed the pump turned on, so I grabbed my cropped jacket and slipped the hood over my head and pocketed my keys after raising the convertible top on the Porsche, ducking my head as I quickly walked right past the staring man and disappeared inside the station.

“I need you to turn on pump 3.”

“Yeah, let me do that. I’m so sorry. Do you know that guy?” the clerk nodded towards the man who’d been staring at me. I shook my head. “Never seen him before in my life.”

,, he kind of resembles Rex. It’s unsettling.” the thought came but I shoved it out. The little I knew about Rex, he didn’t have any family. The man was far too selfish for that.

“He’s lurking around your car. You might want to stay in here.” the woman said it in a concerned tone that caught me by surprise.

I swallowed hard, taking a few deep breaths. I could feel the panic starting to build just a little more. I tried to convince myself that maybe the man was just someone who had seen one of my ads or something. Trying to make myself ignore the weird vacant look in baby blue eyes as they roamed over my body, like he was enjoying his view. Way too much. It was almost lewd.

My eyes settled on my Porsche and I gulped when I saw him walking around it, kind of trying to covertly peer in. I took a few deep breaths. Maybe he was just a fan. Maybe Rex was right, maybe I really am paranoid. ,, with every good reason to be, hello, ten page explicit letters? Last month in Paris when the stalker writing said letters actually tried to grab me?”

The woman behind the counter gave me a sympathetic smile and shook her head. “I’ll go wrangle up my husband Clay. He’s real big, looks mean as hell. Maybe we can get this man outta here and you back on the road, okay, dear?”

I nodded, thanking her. Grateful.

She disappeared to the little garage attached to the back of the station and minutes later, a very tall and menacing looking man wearing a local MC’s cutte stepped out. “We’ll have him outta your hair in no time, hon. You just wait right here with the little missus and don’t worry, alright?”

I nodded, again, grateful.

“ The world’s gone insane these days, I swear.” the clerk spoke up after a few seconds. I don’t know what her husband said to the man with the staring problem, but a few seconds later, all I could see of that silver BMW was it’s tail lights as it made a hasty retreat, going the opposite way that I had to go to leave and that knowledge only relaxed me.

After thanking them both again, I hurried out of the station and got into my car, just thankful to be getting back on the road again. My cell phone showed 3 missed calls. All from Rex. None of which I had any interest at all in taking.

Almost the instant my hotel came into view I relaxed. But only slightly.

Rex was pacing the parking lot, glaring at me when I parked the Porsche and killed the engine.

“Where the entire fuck were you, dollface? I told you specifically, the meeting to discuss the gig I got ya was 8 am sharp.”

“And I told you I wasn’t taking it.”

I side-stepped him and after grabbing my bags from the backseat, I made my way into the hotel and up to my room. Dumping off all my stuff. Digging through one of the shopping bags until I found the red bikini I’d gotten on a whim.

Once I had that on and I’d found a pair of cut offs and a cropped shirt to go over it, I grabbed my phone and the book I’ve been reading and I made my way out the back of the hotel. Wandered down the street until the smells from a local diner wafted to my nose, lingering on the air and reminding me exactly how long it had been since I truly indulged myself.

I wandered in and up to the counter.

And when I heard his laugh from somewhere closer to the back, I found my gaze wandering around the diner.

Settling on Tim.

His back was turned to me. But even without looking at him, I knew it was him. It had to be. I haven’t forgotten the sound of his laugh.

I froze for enough time that the cashier cleared their throat. “Did you know what you wanted to order?”

“I think I’ll actually go grab a booth. If that’s okay?”

The cashier nodded and grabbed a menu for me and I turned, scoping out the diner.

The booth right behind Tim was empty. Did I dare sit there?

My heart was pounding, about to beat right out of my chest. Just like this morning at the gas station, but different.

Excited.

Hopeful, even though I knew in my bones I had no cause to be. Too much time had passed.

Steeling myself, I slunk right past the table Tim and two other men were sitting at, sitting down at the booth of the empty table directly behind his.

I buried my eyes in the menu, pretending to be engrossed. Ordering a soda when one of the servers came around. Then on a whim, ordering the double cheeseburger and a large plate of fries.

And I gazed out the window.. Heart still pounding. Trying to figure out whether or not to say anything. Did I have the right to?

XXX

Almost as soon as the blonde wandered in off the streets, Eric spotted her and nearly choked on his soda. Knowing how the fact that she was in town and it was eating Speed alive was probably the only reason he took it easy on the guy, choosing not to point her out. But his staring so intently at the front of the diner drew Tim and Walter’s attention, and naturally, Tim turned around.

He went quiet, words trailing off mid-sentence.

Eric cleared his throat. “There she is, man.”

“I fucking saw her, Delko, I’m not blind.” Tim muttered, taking a deep breath. It felt like the wind got knocked right out of him. Like slamming into a wall full speed. Everything around him just froze and all he could do was watch her. When she glanced their direction, he looked away quickly. Pretending to laugh, to be caught up in conversation.

Painfully aware of her presence, he gripped the edge of the tabletop. Walter cleared his throat as Sylvie started to make her way right towards them.

“She’s walking towards that table behind us.”

“If you don’t say something, Speed, I swear to God.” Eric muttered. Tim shook his head.

He didn’t even know where to start, for one thing.

She’d settled in the seat right in his line of vision. She was literally almost close enough to touch if he were to stand up and walk over, sit down on the bench opposite the one she currently sat on. But Tim was frozen.

“Ryan was saying that stalker’s still an issue earlier.”

Eric mentioning it had Tim’s eyes darting around the diner. Just wanting to be sure she was okay and that no one followed her in.

Tim took a deep breath.

“One of you has to say somethin, man. This is stupid. Tell him, Walter.”

“Eric makes a good point.” Walter muttered, gazing at Tim. But Tim was totally dazed. Watching her as covertly as possible.

And then, he thought back on the last time he’d seen her.

The day he left New York to take the job here.

“You know what, Delko? You’re absolutely right… But fuck if I know where to even begin.”

“You walk over, sit down and say hi. Pretend like you’re not sure it’s her if it helps, buddy.” Eric shrugged as he dispensed the advice. “Otherwise, Walter and I are gonna shove you into the booth when we all get up to go.”

Tim took a deep breath and stood. Making his way over to her table.

Right past her. Towards the bathroom.

Eric grumbled and shook his head. Walter chuckled, amused by the whole thing.

As Tim came into sight again, Eric watched intently. He’d moved to Tim’s vacant spot, finishing off as many fries as he could, chuckling to himself, shit eating grin on his face as he nodded to the table Sylvie happened to be sitting at.

Tim glared at him.

But he kept walking.

Right as he went to walk past her booth, Eric saw her hand shoot out. Wrap carefully around Tim’s wrist. Effectively freezing Tim in place.

“I didn’t see that comin.”

“Neither did I, man.” Walter mused, taking the final sip of his milkshake as he and Eric shared a look and both got up, leaving Tim behind.

XXX

I’d seen him walk past. For a few seconds, my heart raced. I pouted to myself as he kept going… Not even a glance my way. Disappearing into the bathroom.

I’d pretty much resigned myself to him not noticing me, but then I saw him walk out of the bathroom and knowing he was close enough to touch was too much for me. I snapped. I reached out, tentatively grabbing his wrist.

“Tim?”

“Sylvie?” he raised his other hand and dragged his fingers through his hair. I managed a smile, took a sip of my soda. “You can sit. I mean if you want to..” I trailed off, going quiet.

Heart still a little fluttery.

Not sure at all what I was going to do now that I’d gotten his attention.

,, it’s been years. Ease back into this. There’s a lot of old stuff there, things that didn’t get said. Hurt.” the thought lingered heavily in my mind.

I honestly didn’t think he’d sit down, but he did. My food came and the waitress put it all out on the table in front of me. I inhaled the greasy deliciousness and smiled a little, thanking her as she walked away, my drink in hand to refill it.

Tim eyed my order.

“You realize that’s 3 pieces of meat.. And a ton of grease.”

“Mhm. And I’m about to practically inhale every single bite, okay?”

Tim chuckled, smiling. Muttering something to himself about some things never changing.

“When did you get to Miami? I didn’t even know you were in town.”

“Last week, I think. It was supposed to be my vacation. My manager didn’t get the memo so I’m hiding from the asshole right now.” I frowned, shrugging. Reaching out to grab a few french fries. I pushed the plate closer to him.

“Is this where you get lunch every day?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Tim shrugged. “The view of the beach is kinda calming. Plus, the cook’s a good friend of Eric’s.”

My eyes wandered out, gazing at the beachfront view in question.

“It’s been a long time.” I muttered, gazing at him. He nodded. Mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something and then he just didn’t.

“Too long.” I continued, taking a huge bite of my burger almost immediately after having said it.

I was dying to tell him I missed him. That I still loved him, that at least twice a week I found myself either re reading our old texts or dialing his number only to hang up just before hitting the call button.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“It has been too long.” Tim admitted, snagging himself a few more fries. “How long are you in town?”

“I’m actually going to talk to an agent about a beach house tomorrow? It’s just… So much more relaxed here. Plus there’s a school hiring…”

Tim eyed me.

“Thought you were happy with that whole modeling thing?”

I shook my head. “Honestly?”

“I’d prefer it.” Tim answered as soon as I asked.

I took another sip of my Pepsi and answered quietly, “I’ve been miserable for a while now, actually.”

His next question had me nearly choking on the sip I’d taken. “The stalker situation, right?”

I gazed at him and he explained with a shrug, “It was all over the news. Not to mention our moms are always on the phone callin each other.”

“And then us.” I gave a soft laugh. Taking a deep breath, I nodded yes to answer what he’d asked about my situation. “It started before that though. I never actually wanted to get involved with this but then I started and the money…” I trailed off.

“Yeah. I mean I don’t blame ya.” Tim shrugged, going quiet.

The tension settled in all around us. Thick to the point I felt like you could cut the way it lingered with a knife.

“I hate to but I gotta get back to the lab…” Tim spoke up after a few minutes of us just sort of sitting there… staring at each other, deep in thought. He stood and I asked quietly, “Would it be okay if I called you later? Is your number still the same?”

“I’d like that. Yeah.. you know me. Predictable. My number’s still the same.” he gave me that smile and I felt myself smiling back, nodding.

“Maybe you can show me around sometime…” I trailed off because there I went.. Rushing in all over again. I took a deep breath, making myself meet his gaze. Fully prepared to laugh it off and say that he didn’t have to.

Tim chuckled, nodding. “I was about to say that. I see you’re still a mind reader, baby girl.”

“Just yours, Speed.” I wanted to kick myself because the words left my mouth just a shade too flirty.

And I knew it was much too soon for that.

XXX

“Now who in the hell is he?” the man stood outside the diner, leaned against one of the streetlamps. Watching Sylvie intently through the window as she talked to some guy inside the diner.

When the guy sat down at her booth, his blood began to boil. His hands clenched to fists at his sides and he gave an angry laugh, shaking his head.

“Now this just won’t do. Not at all. Nothin’s comin between me and her. Nothin.”

#tim speedle fanfiction #tim speedle imagine #tim speedle fanfic #tim speedle imagines #my writing ; tim speedle #my fanfiction ; tim speedle #my fics ; tim speedle #// this took a turn on me ya'll not even gonna lie #// stalker tw #// these two need to just get their shit together i swear to god

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tayerroos · 4 years ago

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Patchwork Tales: Book 1

A “9" roleplay compendium. Read on AO3 Chapter: 9 [First] [Back] [You Are Here] [Next] Warnings for this chapter: Panic Attack, Violence

#Patchwork Tales #Book 1 #Chapter 9 #Shane Acker's 9 #tw: panic attack #tw: violence #Fanfiction #9 RP

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shining-red-diamond · 5 years ago

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In the Frozen

Words: 4.6k

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Rating: PG-15

Warnings: mentions of blood, brief birth scene, and some violence

Summary: After General Christopher Bang defeats a ferocious dragon, he is finally able to marry the princess and do his best to run a peaceful kingdom with kindness. However, when the princess awakens on a winter morning to discover her husband, the most decorated and heroic knight, missing, she knows something isn’t right. She wants to go out looking for him, but there’s a problem: she’s expectant and due any day. Will she be able to find her beloved Christopher before she has to give birth to the future prince or princess?

General Christopher Bang was one of the king’s finest and most decorated soldiers. His leadership and skills helped him climb to the rank of general. He fought bravely and was loyal to the king and his country, but he was known for his kind soul. Chris never boasted when he talked about his battles, never was prideful, and never was cross with a soldier if they messed up. Children also looked up to him as a hero or as someone they wanted to be like when they grew up, and he enjoyed telling the children slightly exaggerated stories of some of his adventures.

But with all of his amazing battles and journeys he had led, his greatest adventure to him was meeting Princess Y/N. The two first met when an assassin of the rival kingdom had threatened to kidnap her before murdering the king and queen, and Chris served as her bodyguard. Over the course of a three-month war, the two became close; and by the time the war was coming to an end they had confessed their love for each other. The summer was filled with a budding romance, and the fall and winter was spent by a cozy fireplace. However, she was still the princess and had been promised to various suitors, but she could never see herself happy with any of them. Y/N only had that kind of love for Chris. As kind as her father was, he wouldn’t let her marry anyone that wasn’t of royal blood. After he was to pass on or decided to step down from the throne, he would be passing his crown to his son-in-law. Y/N would inherit the queen’s crown at the same time.

However, after some time, the king finally agreed to give Y/N to Chris if he could slaughter the beast that terrorized the forest surrounding the kingdom. The general accepted the challenge with the reassurance that if he survives, he’s marrying Y/N for love, not for the crown. Of course Chris loved the people of the kingdom and wanted to protect them, but being king wasn’t on his agenda. He promised that if he was to be crowned king in the near future, then he would rule with kindness and love.

The general gathered his army of 3,000 soldiers, built their strategy of taking down the creature, and set off into the forest. After four long days of battle, injuries, and fifty-seven losses of some of Chris’s men, the creature, a shadow dragon, was finally slain. The people celebrated the victory with a festival, music, and a parade. The fallen soldiers were given a memorial, and General Bang married the princess.

For about a year and half, the entire kingdom had a period of blissful peace. The villagers went about their everyday lives, political issues with other kingdoms were resolved without war, and Y/N and Chris were experiencing the ups and downs of their first year of marriage; but the couple was crazy for each other each passing day.

Soon, the news came that Y/N were going to have a baby, and the kingdom was overjoyed with excitement about a new prince or princess in the royal family. All was at peace.

Or so they thought.

…

The early, winter morning sun shone through the bedroom windows with a soft orange glow. Snowflakes could be seen lightly falling outside, giving the view an almost magical feel. The room itself was nice and warm, and Y/N was beginning to awaken from a sweet dream.

Her eyes fluttered open just in time to see her maid Ryujin open the door and carry in a tray of food.

“Good morning, miss,” she greeted with a smile as she brought breakfast over to her.

“Hello, Ryujin,” Y/N said groggily as she sat up. She then noticed that Chris wasn’t on his side of the bed. “Where’s Christopher?”

The maid placed the tray in front of Y/N. “The general had an emergency call this morning. Did he not tell you?”

“I don’t believe he ever came to bed last night.”

Y/N retraced her footsteps from the day before. They had spent the day together organizing things for the baby such as its bed, where the toys went, and even old children’s books Y/N had saved for this occasion. When they had finished they took a walk in the greenhouse that protected most of the plants that would be placed in the garden once spring approached. After dinner that evening, Chris was called to an emergency that he couldn’t ignore; but he promised that he’d return.

“He had an emergency call yesterday,” Y/N said. “How could have one this morning? He would have woken me up to tell me.”

“Maybe he was in a hurry, miss,” Ryujin shrugged. “Shall I start a bath for you?”

“Sure.”

“Warm water with Epsom salt?”

“You know me too well, Ryujin.”

“I’ll have it ready by the time you finish your meal,” the maid promised and headed into the bathroom.

With the sound of the bathtub facet turning on, Y/N began to eat her breakfast of fresh berries, yogurt, and eggs and a glass of water stood at the corner of the tray.

Y/N was never really a breakfast-in-bed person, but as her baby bump swelled throughout her pregnancy she found it harder to get out of bed to join her family for breakfast. Chris always made sure to massage her feet or do something to ease any pain she might have been experiencing that morning, and he would sometimes eat an apple as he tried interacting with his wife’s bump.

Chris’s absence this morning was making Y/N feeling uneasy. He typically would come to bed about the same time she would be falling asleep, but she never felt his presence the night before. She didn’t want to assume the worst, but she couldn’t help the odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. And it wasn’t the baby’s feet kicking her, which interrupted her thoughts.

The fetus developing in her liked to move around a lot, and Y/N always found herself giggling because of it. It typically happened whenever she was having a meal or if she was talking to her unborn child. Now, that she was due any day, the movements weren’t as frequent. Y/N worried that she was losing her first baby; the doctor had reassured her that the child was alive but now had limited space within the womb. The baby had also moved into position for birth, and Y/N was still counting down until delivery.

“You’re bath is ready, Your Highness,” Ryujin called from the bathroom doorway right when Y/N finished her breakfast.

“Thank you,” she replied. “But can you help me up.”

Ryujin was already at her bedside and gently helped the princess to her feet.

After a blissful and calming bath, Y/N felt fresh as a daisy and threw on a comfortable, baby blue dress to meet her parents in the throne room. She managed to half-waddle through the castle halls, and a few maids kept a keen eye on her as she carefully stepped down the stairs. Two guards pushed open the throne room doors, and Y/N found her parents in discussion with some of Chris’s soldiers.

“Mother?” Y/N called out to the queen.

“Good morning, darling.” Her Majesty threw her arms open to hug her daughter.

“What’s going on?”

The king dismissed the soldiers before turning to greet to the princess with kiss on her forehead. “How are you today, my dear?”

“Wanting an explanation. Papa, why were Chris’s men here just now?”

The queen took her by the hand and guided her to the princess’s seat next to the king’s. “You better have seat.”

Y/N eased herself into her chair and locked eyes with her parents. “If something has happened to my husband, I have the right to know.”

“Y/N,” the king said, “Christopher is missing.”

Her heart began to pick up speed. Her hunches had been right, but she didn’t want to believe her father.

“No,” she argued as she shook her head. “That can’t be. He’s on an emergency call, isn’t he? That’s what I’ve been told.”

“We thought so, too,” said the queen, “but when the guards told us he had never returned within the hours he had promised, we knew something wasn’t right.”

The kind then explained everything that had happened that morning. One of the guards had discovered that the emergency call was just to lure General Bang from the castle and into the snowy forest. However, when the other knights went to see if he had possibly returned, they only found his horse running out of the woods a nervous wreck as if he had seen a monster. Reports of a beast lurking deep in the woods had also been buzzing around the kingdom for a few weeks, but nothing serious came of it. That’s when the king decided to send a search party for his son-in-law.

No one ever went into the forest unless they were traveling along the path that led to the other kingdoms. Children and teenagers would go a few feet in but only to play games. The likelihood of someone needing help in the woods was low but not impossible.

With the new information she had now, Y/N began to cry. Her beloved husband was out in the woods somewhere with possibly no food or anything else for survival. She was scared the beast might have gotten him.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” the queen cooed as she embraced her for comfort. “But we’re going to do everything we can to find him.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Y/N asked through her sobs. “I want to find him.”

“We know,” said the king, “but in your condition, we can’t have you wandering off.”

“Especially now with the baby coming any day now,” added the queen.

“But you have our word that whatever news we get, you will be notified.”

Y/N sighed. “Thank you, Papa.”

“How about a walk in the greenhouse before lunch?” the queen asked.

…

For the next three days, everything seemed to turn into a routine: Y/N waking up alone, eating breakfast in bed before a morning bath with hair washing every couple of days, a walk in the greenhouse with the queen, a nice lunch, and meeting with subjects before dinner. Very little news came from the search party except if they found something that had been on Chris’s person the day he disappeared: his sword, pieces of his armor, and eventually his helmet. However, despite never finding a body, some of the knights were starting to presume their general was dead.

Y/N refused to believe her husband was dead. The knights were starting to give up on the search, and Y/N begged them to continue until it got to a point where she was almost nagging them. They wouldn’t budge anymore, and the king and queen were starting to give up.

Now, Y/N had enough. She decided she was going to search for Chris herself. She knew running off while still very pregnant was risky, but she felt in her heart that Chris was somewhere. She just hoped he was safe.

Evening fell, and Y/N was rushing to pack any essentials she would need on her journey. Food, extra clothing, medicine, a thick blanket, a machete, two daggers were stashed into the sack she was bringing with her. The snow was falling softly outside, and everyone else had gone to bed; so Y/N had to work quickly before she could sneak out of the castle.

“What are you doing, miss?” Ryujin asked, startling Y/N. “My apologies, but are you heading somewhere?”

Y/N sighed. She placed the last cloak in her sack and said, “I’m going to find my husband.”

Ryujin opened her mouth to speak, but Y/N stopped her. “If it was me out there missing, he’d do the same. I know I’m days from giving birth, Ryujin, but I can’t sit here while he’s possibly lost out in the forest somewhere. I have medicine, herbs, food, and a cloak for him if he needs them.”

“It’s not just yours or his health I worry about,” the maid said before lowering her voice into a whisper. “It’s the beast out there.”

“I have a machete and two daggers I’m taking with me. It might not be the best protection, but it’ll give me a running start if I need it.”

“But-“

“No, ‘buts.’ I know I’m risking a lot-“ Y/N placed a hand on her watermelon belly “-but I want my child to know who his father is. If I’m not back in three days, send a party.”

Grabbing her sack, she left her room, leaving a shocked but hopeful Ryujin standing there to try to cover for her.

As soon as she sneaked into the castle’s kitchen, YN didn’t hold back and burst through the wooden door. She knew it wasn’t the best idea, but she was desperate.

Chris was out there, and nothing was going to stop Y/N from looking for him.

The cold air nipped at any exposed skin. Snow crunched beneath her feet as she ran in the frozen forest. The pale glow of the full moon was her only source of light in the forest, and she could hear the distance growls of the beast chasing after her. Y/N wanted to look back if it was behind her, but her gut instinct told her not to and to keep going. Her lungs were burning, screaming for air as she was running while heavy with child; but she wasn’t about to give up until she found some sort of shelter for the night.

She spotted an opening in the trees and a yellowish-orange light coming from it. As she got closer, she realized there was a cottage in the middle of the forest. Her feet picked up speed, but because of the darkness Y/N failed to see the branch that struck her in the head with a gigantic force. She lost her balance, but she still kept going.

Dizziness began to swarm her head, her vision began to cloud, but she managed to find herself in front of the cottage. Two figures emerged from the doorway, but Y/N couldn’t tell who they were. She felt herself fall to the ground, and the distance roar of the beast was the last thing she heard before everything faded to black.

…

“Is she going to wake up soon?”

“She hit her head pretty hard, so I can’t say when.”

“Not to mention, she was bleeding out, so she could have a headache when she wakes up.”

Two of the voices were unfamiliar to Y/N, but she could easily recognize the third one. However, she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or not. Everything had echoed at first, but they steadied quickly.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Immediately, her head started pounding, forcing her eyes shut again; and she moaned in pain.

“Easy, dear,” one of the voices, which was female, soothed.

A cold, damp towel was placed on Y/N’s head, and she opened her eyes again. Three people were standing around her, one female and two male. The woman had a kind face and cheeks that were round when she smiled. One of the men had kind eyes and had a few tattoos covering his tanned skin. The third man made Y/N’s heart leap for joy when she saw him.

“Chris?” she muttered.

The soldier knelt down by her and kissed her passionately, Y/N’s fingers running through his jet-black curls. “Hi, my love,” he whispered softly with a smile.

“I thought you were-“

“I’m alive,” he reassured her. “Just injured.”

“Where are we?”

“Don’t worry, your Highness,” the woman said as she helped her sit up. “You’re safe with us.”

Y/N then took in her surroundings. She was in a double bed with soft and warm sheets covering her lower half, but she was now in a nightgown. A lit fireplace was across the room from her, keeping the cottage warm; and a kitchen and dining room could be seen from the doorway.

“Darling,” Chris spoke up, “this is Hyorin and her husband Taeyang. They found me after I had killed the beast and took me her to patch up.”

She now noticed the sling on her husband arm but was confused. “It’s dead?”

Chris nodded.

“How? What was it?”

“I’ll explain everything in a bit,” her husband promised. “Right now, you need to relax.”

Taeyang and Hyorin left the room and shut the door behind them. Chris sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his wife’s face.

“What were you thinking?” he asked.

“You’ve been gone for almost four days,” Y/N replied. “Everyone else was starting to think you were dead, and I got impatient.”

Chris couldn’t help but softly smile. His wife wasn’t one to give up easily and would willingly go to the ends of the earth for her loved ones if she had to. He couldn’t stay angry with her.

He planted a kiss on her forehead and said against her skin, “I’m alive, my love. I’ve just been healing and gaining my strength back.”

“What about the beast? If you killed it, then how come I could still hear it?”

Chris chuckled. “The mind can easily play tricks on a person. I’m guessing fear somehow got a hold of your imagination, and you began to hear things that weren’t there.”

Y/N listened to her husband’s tale from the time he left the castle the night of his disappearance until now. He had heard what sounded like a child crying for help coming from the forest. Upon arrival, he discovered it wasn’t a child but the beast. It had turned out to be a black snow dragon, which were descendants of regular snow dragons but much more ferocious. They mimicked sounds that appealed to their prey as a way to lure them close in order to have their feast; but Chris was cautious when he entered the forest. He was able to run before the dragon could snatch him up and eat him whole, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to battle it first. The dragon was stronger than its parent that had terrified the kingdom for decades, and it was near impossible to penetrate its tough, leathery skin. The only way Chris would defeat would to blind it before finding a soft spot under its black, chromatic scales to pierce the heart. He went into surprise attack mode, but not without getting beat up by the dragon.

Chris was successful in defeating the dragon, but his sword had been broken and his shoulder dislocated in the process. He was also bleeding badly, but he didn’t have the strength to get up to journey back to the castle or seek help. Eventually, he woke up to Taeyang and Hyorin tending to his wounds that he knew he was safe; but due to his injuries, he wasn’t able to return back to the castle.

“I’m just happy you’re alive and well, darling,” Y/N responded when he finished his story. “Your men were starting to give up and say you were dead.”

Chris faced palmed his forehead and exhaled in annoyance. “Those cowards. I taught them better.”

“All they were finding were pieces of your armor.”

“I took them off when I heard the dragon approaching. Metal against metal noises are what attracts them to their prey other than scent.”

“That makes sense.”

Y/N hand went to her bump and began to rub it gently. “Was it selfish of me?”

“What?”

“To rush into the woods knowing full well I could have put our baby in danger?”

Her husband sighed. “It was a bit reckless of you to run from the castle’s safety, but when I saw that you had brought medicine, food, and a blanket in the sack that was with you; I knew you were just wanting to keep the baby safe in case you had gone into labor looking for me.”

“But still, I’m sorry,” she began to cry. “I just had to do something, anything.”

“And you chose to come look for me?”

“That’s what I promised you. When we said our ‘I do’s,’ I promised that I would come looking for you.”

Chris paused for a moment before wiping her tears away and kissing her again. “And I made that same promise to you.”

He then lifted her nightgown, exposing her swollen belly before trailing kisses all around it. “And that promise get extended to you, little one,” he cooed to the unborn baby.

Y/N giggled as he did so, and the child kicked its feet in response.

“Will we be able to return home?” she asked.

“We leave at first light,” Chris said. “Since I’m mostly healed and you not having any other injuries, Taeyong and Hyorin will help us get back.”

“How far is it?”

“Only a mile and a half, so not far at all.”

…

As soon as the early, winter sun began to break through the forest trees, the quartet gathered everything they needed and left the cottage. The general was given a fresh sling, and new gauze was wrapped around Y/N’s head. Taeyang led the way as he walked in front of them, Hyorin had her arms linked with Y/N’s to help her walk, and Chris was behind them as a means of protection. The weather was just as ice cold as the night before, but thankfully it wasn’t a blizzard, making the journey through the frozen forest an easy one.

“Y/N, close your eyes!” Chris instructed his wife about three-quarters of the journey in.

“Wha-“ she asked, but was interrupted.

“Just do it! Don’t open them again until I say so.”

Without another word, Y/N did as she was told. Hyorin acted as her eyes as they continued through the woods. Y/N then smelt something without a warning. The stench of death attacked her nostrils so badly, she had to cover her face.

Her eyes remained closed for about ten minutes before Chris said, “Alright, you can open them now.”

Y/N fluttered her eyes open. “What happened?” she asked.

“We were passing the dragon’s corpse,” her husband explained. “It was decaying badly, and I didn’t want it to scare you.”

“I could smell it.”

Chris laughed. “Well, that section of the woods is going to stink until the body is all bones.”

“Your Highness,” Taeyang called. “Come take a look ahead.”

Chris and Y/N exchanged looks before taking each other’s hands and moving a few feet forward. Through the thinning trees, they were beginning to see an opening in the distance. They could see the castle walls. They were almost home. They could heal and rest in bliss before the baby arrived.

The latter was quickly thrown out of the window when a sharp pain shot through Y/N and liquid began pouring through her legs onto the glittering snow. Her knees buckled as she cried in pain, Chris catching her in the process.

“He’s coming!” Y/N cried. “It’s nearly time!”

Chris wasn’t able to carry his wife, so Taeyang was quick to scoop her up and carry her to the castle. They didn’t stop running until they had burst into the castle’s kitchen door and into the couple’s bedchambers. Everyone they had passed was trailing after them with millions of questions.

Taeyang gently settled Y/N onto the bed, and Ryujin escorted out him and Hyorin. As soon as they left, Chris and the other maids immediately stripped her of the dress she had been wearing and changed her into a clean nightgown. The general struggled a bit as his arm was still in the sling. A large towel was put beneath her to prevent any blood from getting on the bed once the baby was born. Ryujin rushed back in and quickly prepared a large bowl of water.

“General,” Ryujin said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as he stood from where he was kneeling, not letting go of his wife’s hand.

“Honey, just go,” Y/N whimpered. “You’ll get to see the baby when he or she is born.”

“I don’t want to leave you, though.”

“Please, Christopher. The doctor can check you over to make sure you’re one hundred percent healed.”

He kissed his wife passionately. “You can do this.”

Ryujin escorted him out.

…

“Keep pushing, Your Highness,” the midwife encouraged Y/N. “The head is almost out.”

The princess had been pushing her child out for the past half-hour, and the pain was almost torturous and unbearable. Every now and then, an uncontrollable yelp of agony would escape her mouth after each push, but she never allowed herself to scream. Y/N was tired, and she was close to giving up. Ryujin kept whispering words of encouragement.

“One more push, and the baby with be born,” said the midwife.

General Bang had returned from his exam after being told that his injuries were healing nicely. He wasn’t allowed into the bedroom yet, but hearing his wife’s cries of pain worried him. He wanted to break the doors down, run to his wife, and pepper kisses on her face; but he knew his son or daughter would be arriving any moment, so he would have to be patient. Chris just sat on the floor in the hallway as he awaited any news.

Then, he heard it. A newborn’s cries echoed from the bedroom, and the general felt his heart pick up speed. He was nearly jumping out of his clothes when Ryujin came and opened the door and said, “It’s a boy.”

Rushing in with excitement, Chris found his princess still in bed, a little sweaty and looking exhausted, but he could see the overflowing look of love in her eyes. His attention then went to the tiny baby swaddled in Y/N’s arms, and he knew he was in love.

“He’s perfect,” he smiled before kissing his son’s little head. “Hi, Maxwell.”

“Maxwell?” Y/N repeated.

“Max for short,” Chris chuckled.

...

Within a few days of baby Max’s birth the kingdom celebrated his arrival and the general’s return with a feast and a winter festival. Taeyang and his wife Hyorin were rewarded for their hospitality and kindness and given positions as the royal medics for the army; Chris was given a medal for slaying the beast, and Y/N had been rewarded for her courage and love.

“Y/N,” Chris whispered to his wife during the festivities as he was holding his newborn.

“Yes?” she said.

“I really hope peace maintains throughout the kingdom. Max deserves to grow up being the happiest person in life.”

“As do I, but since that peace got shattered for us right before his birth, can we agree to stay alert no matter what?”

“Of course, my love.”

The two shared a long, gentle kiss, promising to always protect and care for their people and family with love, kindness, and courage.

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed this. I’m sorry if it seemed rushed in some parts, but this was my first long fic. I had fun writing it, so hopefully my long fic writing skills will get better.

#kwritersworldnet #thekpopnetwork #stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #skz bang chan

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sierracolorstheworldofwords · 5 years ago

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EGOTOBER day 29- Count iplier and reader

An: This is a gender neutral reader wooo also! I used @justwritingscibbles and this is her oc! (Which I didn’t know at the time I was writing this story, because I just thought count was a fandom ego, but yeah) so PLEASE go check out her blog! Because she deserves the views and reads!

The wind whispered cold outside of the old house, caressing the black wooden walls with red leafy fingers. Inside, the wind was not so gentle— it howled and shrieked in old abandoned halls, rattled pots and pans in the kitchen, and screamed with delight in each and every stairway, dancing with the ghoul who haunts the hallways.

Long ago, the ghoul had been rich, young.. that is all they can remember— that they had a life before, where they could not dance with the wind, or waltz with the dark cats and bats of the lovely night. Before, they did not love night, did not wish for the sun to rest and set, did not wish for darkness… but now, now they craved it like chocolate. They craved the soft smoky violet sky and the twinkling of the stars.

The night had been like any other, it was autumn, late autumn, to be exact. The trees were scarcely covered, but still shedding leaves the color of sunsets. The ghoul loved autumn, because the leaves always kept them company during that time, and the wind, chill and brisk, came to visit like an old friend. Lurking in the hallways and whispering songs of colder lands.

The ghoul had been too busy dancing and listening to the stories of the winter breeze, that they didn’t hear the front door creak open.

The wind stopped blowing, swirling around them in caution, saying softly, someone is in the house! Someone is in the house!

The ghoul, (Y/n), looked around, clothes and hair flowing softly as they did. They listened, hearing footsteps echo down the empty halls. They heard the floorboards creak and moan. They felt the wind disappear swiftly out the window of the old bedroom. (Y/n) sighed, and then turned towards the door, floating out.

They went down the hall, and down the stairs, frowning all the way, hating the human who scared the wind away. That wind only came around this time of year, and was the only one who stayed to keep them company. The other winds never did that. No matter how much they begged.

Standing at the bottom stair, they looked around the living room, seeing a cloaked man. Their eyebrows furrowed in anger, lips twisting into a scowl.

“Why are you in my house?!” They asked. They didn’t expect an answer. They only expected to be ignored again. But still— they were so angry! How dare this stupid human come into their house, uninvited?!

The figure, clearly startled, turned, much to their surprise. Gathering courage, they puffed up their chest, “Well?! Don’t you know it’s rude to enter someone’s house without permission?!”

The red eyed, pale man blinked, before catching himself, “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t know that there was anyone living here.”

The figure (who (Y/n) assumed was a he) had an.. almost.. comical voice. He sounded like that teen who came in a few years ago, dressed like a vampire, clearly faking their accent. The mysterious man’s voice didn’t sound fake at all.

“I do hope I haven’t upset you— you see, I heard this house was.. well, abandoned, and decided to look around, since it seemed like a nice place.”

(Y/n) but their fists on their hips, raising an eyebrow, “Nice?”

“Well… yes, for someone of my kind, you see.”

They nodded, lips pressed into a firm line, “Your kind?”

The man nodded, eyes glowing like two flaming rubies in the moonlight, “I’m a vampire, you see.”

“Uh huh. A vampire— and I’m still alive.”

The man frowned, “I will prove it.”

(Y/n) sighed, desperate to get this man out of their house, “Go ahead.”

Suddenly, a swarm of smoke invaded the room, and a bat flew where the man once was. (Y/n) blinked in surprise, but then rolled their eyes.

“You said vampire, not a magician.”

The bat growled before turning into a man once more, ��Do you not see my fangs?”

“Fangs?”

The man flashed his teeth, and a pair of pearly fangs sparked in the moonlight.

“Those could be fakes.”

“My claws? My accent? Do these not scream vampire?”

“They scream costume. It is Halloween, isn’t it?”

The man laughed, “Oh that was a month ago!”

“How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“Why would I dress up as a vampire and go into an old house?”

“Why not? Maybe to take a photo.”

The man groaned in frustration, “I really am a vampire. And I do not need to prove it to a stupid ghost!”

(Y/n) stuck out their tongue, “And I don’t need a fake vampire invading my house!”

“Well! I need somewhere to stay! A place to put my coffin so I can be closer to my family!”

(Y/n) blinked, “Family?”

“Yes.. my family, they live close by.”

The ghoul sighed, feeling a softness bloom in their chest. The man— vampire, whatever he was, seemed lonely, saying those words. (Y/n) knew the feeling.

“Fine, you can stay— but if you aren’t what you claim, you’ll pay.. dearly.”

The supposed vampire smiled, “My name is count, and yours?”

“(Y/n).”

Count smiled, “Well, it was nice to meet you.. I have to go, for dawn is soon, and I must get my coffin. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

The ghoul rolled their eyes, doubting what he said, “Alright, see you tomorrow night.”

“See you.”

The Count left, and (Y/n) swore they saw him disappear, but figured it was just another trick. Humans could be like that, full of tricks.

The next night, the wind visited, shrieking down the halls, brining leaves with it, (Y/n) danced with the cold once more, listening to its stories. Just as the night before, they were too caught up in its song.

Oh! Someone is in the house again!

The wind whispered, causing the ghoul to sigh.

“It’s the same human from yesterday.”

That’s no human!

“What?”

That’s a vampire! I’ve seen them so many times, have blown over their cold skin..

the wind shivered, scattering leaves across the room before leaving once more, howling out the window.

They went downstairs again, seeing the Count, who held a coffin.

“Hello.” He said, smiling.

“Hello.”

“Are you really a vampire?”

“Yes— and are you really a ghost?”

“Well, no… not exactly. I'm a ghoul.”

“Oh, my mistake.”

“It’s alright..” (Y/n) paused, “Here, I’ll show you a place to put your coffin, somewhere nice and dark.”

“Thank you.”

They showed him to a bedroom underneath a tree. The curtains had survived the years of neglect, and covered the windows.

The count smiled, “This is perfect. I’ll have to buy new curtains, but otherwise it’s wonderful! Thank you for letting me stay!”

“You’re welcome.” (Y/n) smiled, not feeling so lonely anymore.

#markiplier egos #iplier egos #egotober2019 #ego #count iplier #xreader #my fic #my writing #sierra’s writing

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benmitchellee · 5 years ago

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Family of Five, One Child.

Lexi would love Callum, Ben was sure of it. She already kind of knew him anyway. Ben was just nervous to introduce his little girl to the man who’d changed his feelings on love as his boyfriend. She knew daddy had friends who were guys and understood he wasn’t into women but he’d never fully involved a guy into her life. She was the most important thing in his life and he didn’t want to upset her.

He’d planned out how he’d do it. He’d made them food with the help of Bobby, whilst Lexi was at swimming with Lola, and invited Callum around to meet her properly.

‘She knows me Ben, she saw me the other day when I left for work’ was Callum’s retaliation. And Ben got it. She had done. But she’d also seen other men leave early hours in the morning , why would she think Callum was any different.

“I know babe, but just humour me. I wanna tell her about us” Ben said, glad the phone call hid his blush. “That’s if that’s okay with you...I’ve cooked pasta and I thought it’d be a good time for her to get to know you as Daddy’s boyfriend rather than just a friend”

“Umm, yeah, alright then, I’d love to. Honoured you’d even want her to see me like that. I’ll be over in five, time for a cuddle and a chat that way” Callum said, his adoration for Ben clear in his voice as he slipped on his shoes, phone wedged between his ear and his neck.

“That’s what you are, soft lad” Ben said softly, laugh bordering on a childlike giggle, although if you mentioned it he’d straight up deny it. “Okay Cal, see ya” he said, no need for pleasantries, he had to make sure he was presentable for his man.

Not even 2 minutes later there was a knock at the back door. Ben jumped from his seat at the table, straightening out his shirt. He opened the door only to be lunged at by Callum, engulfed in his arms as his boyfriend passionately kissed him. It felt like an eternity before Callum pulled away, breathless and smiling like a Cheshire Cat.

“Mmm, nice, what’s that for then?” Ben said, his usual lustful gaze pinned on Callum. He found him utterly intoxicating, even a month into dating. He left his arms where they’d naturally ended up when Callum grabbed him, draped over his shoulders, hands at the nape of his neck in his hair.

“Just like being able to do it. Best feeling in the world besides you know what” Callum said, feigning confidence. Ben made him feel as though he could act however he wanted. “Plus, I’m just happy you like me enough to introduce me to Lex”

“Don’t be soft, y’know I like you. Lexi will love ya, gonna be a proper mad family” Ben giggled, kissing Callum again.

“I hope she does” Callum muttered to himself as Ben pulled away to take the plates into the living room and put them on the table. Callum panicked as he heard the front door open.

Daddy!!! I got a medal for fastest swimmer” he heard her scream as she ran into the living room to show Ben.

“Wow baby, that’s amazing! Thanks for bringing her back Lo, and I’ll see ya later. Have fun with Jay” he said, giving Lola a peck on the cheek as he picked Lexi up.

“Don’t be daft, thanks for having her whilst I go out, two birds, one stone and all that. Good luck” Lola smirked, seeing Callum lurking in the kitchen, going unnoticed by Lexi. “Be good Lexi, I’ll be home later but I want you in bed by then”

“Okay mummy, love you” Lexi shouted as Lola left. “Daddy, why’s he standing in the kitchen” she said pointedly as she turned and saw Callum standing there awkwardly.

“Hi Lexi, I’ve just come to see your dad” Callum said, smiling. He wanted to make her feel comfortable.

“He’s come to eat dinner with us, is that alright?” He said nervously, coaxing Callum to stand with him.

“Yep, is he your new boyfriend daddy?” She asked, nonchalantly.

“Umm, yeah babe, is that okay with you. That’s why he’s here, I wanted you to meet him and check him out” he said nervously, half joking. He knew his little girl was protective of him.

“Okay, he’s nice daddy, better than the guys in Liverpool” she murmured, gripping on to her dad.

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it later?” Callum said, poking Ben in the arm.

“Fine” Ben smirked, popping Lexi down. Right, go wash your hands young lady, dinners ready” he said, patting her wet head “and get some bobbles, I’ll put your hair up”.

She ran upstairs in a flurry of song and glitter. As soon as she was gone Ben pulled Callum into a hug, leaning up to kiss him.

“That went well, better than I thought” He giggled, pulling away to fetch the food in.

“Yeah, so far, so good” Callum smiled. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected but then again it would be stupid to fear the wrath of a child. Nevertheless he was glad she was so sweet about it. Not all children would understand their daddy having a boyfriend, let alone new ones all the time.

She bounded back down the stairs, bobbles in her little hands. Ben had played up the food and was waiting to quickly sort her hair before they ate.

“Come here then Lex, let me do you a ponytail” he said, smiling as he leant on the arm of the armchair.

“But daddy, I want plaits, mummy always does plaits” she pouted, unhappy with her dads choice.

“I can’t do plaits babe, so just have a pony for now” he sighed

“But dad, I don’t want it like that!” She said grumpily.

“I-I can do plaits Ben, if that’s okay with you Lexi”

“Yay, thank you Cal” she giggled, running over to where he was perched awkwardly on the sofa.

He sat her down and did to slim braids, his long fingers making it easy. She giggled and told him animal facts as he worked and he answered her enthusiastically every time she asked him if he knew something. Ben watched on, smiling in awe as his daughter and his boyfriend got on like a house on fire.

“Thank you Cally, they’re the best. You’re the best boyfriend daddy’s ever had” she beamed, hugging him excitedly.

“Yeah, thanks Cal, didn’t know you could do hair. Gonna get you a job in the salon” Ben smirked, watching Callum blush as Lexi zoomed off to sit at her seat, tucking into the pasta that had been waiting far too long.

They both got up, joining her at the table where she’d already made a mess as she ate hurriedly.

“Used to do Whits hair so it’s just stuck I guess” he blushed “anyway I didn’t know you could cook either. this looks nice babe, thank you”

“Yeah thank you daddy”

“No problem you two. Bobby cooked most of it, I’m no Gordon Ramsey” he smirked his usual cocky smile, yet it was somehow softened by the loving look in his eyes as he looked at the two most important people in his life.

They ate their food, laughter and conversation making the room come alive with the warmest atmosphere it’d known since Lucy had died.

They stayed up and chatted, watched tv and all cuddled up until well past Lexi’s bedtime. This was just the start of their own little family and already Callum settled in perfectly.

“Daddy I’m tired, can Callum read me a story?” She yawned, standing up, rubbing her eyes.

“If he wants to baby I don’t see why not” he said, picking her up. “You don’t have to babe, I’ll take her up and you can wait here if you want” he said. He didn’t want to pressure Callum to feel like he had to do the whole family thing yet. He didn’t sign up to be an extra dad to Lexi.

“Course I can, lead the way darlings” he chuckled.

They got upstairs and Ben got her ready for bed whilst Callum found a story to read. She kissed her daddy goodnight and told him to leave. Who was he to argue with his princess. He went to his room, changing into pyjamas and glasses before getting Callum the pyjamas he’d left behind out, washed and folded to be worn again.

When he came back his heart melted as he stood outside the door, the gap allowing him to see Callum reading to her as she lay there, looking up with a soft smile. He finished the book and placed it on the floor.

“I’ve really enjoyed tonight Lexi, thank you for letting me stay with you and your dad”

“Thank you for making daddy happy. He needs someone to make him smile. It’s very tiring doing it on my own” she said matter-of-factly, rubbing her eyes.

Ben has tears as he listened. She was just so sweet. And his boyfriend was the best. He was sure he’d struck gold with him.

“Well I’m sure it is Lexi, I’m gonna go now and let you sleep, night darling” Callum chuckled, kissing her head.

“Night Cal, give daddy another kiss from me” she giggled.

“I will” he replied. Ben rushes downstairs, hoping not to be seen.

Callum shut the door, blowing her a kiss. He stood there for a second composing himself. This was his life now. An amazing boyfriend who made him feel like he was someone special, friends who treated him just as they had before, a best friend in Whitney, the woman he loved just not enough, and Lexi. His whole heart was full and he tried to fight the tears that threatened to fall. He had a family. Something he’d never had. He meant something to so many people. And something that had always scared him about being gay suddenly didn’t matter. He was scared he’d never have children and yet now he did. She wasn’t his, he knew that, but Lexi filled that hole in his heart where his child should be. She already felt like a daughter to him. He had his family now, and it was amazing.

He fixed his shirt and wiped his eyes, heading down the stairs to see Ben on the sofa, pyjamas and glasses on with fluffy hair. “Hello sexy” Callum said, giggling as he walked over. This was his favourite Ben, all soft and gentle.

“Hey, is she asleep?” He said as Callum sat down next to him.

“Yeah, you’d know that though, nosy” he chuckled, leaning in to hug him.

“Sorry, couldn’t help but watch you, it was lovely. She loves you baby and you’re so good with her” he blushed, kissing Callum’s head.

“Yeah, she’s a good girl, a credit to you and Lola”

“Mainly Lo to be honest babe but thank you. I love her so much. She’s one of the best things to happen to me”

“I can see why. I already love her and I hardly know her”

“Give it a few months and she’ll be calling you dad” Ben giggled but then suddenly stopped. “Sorry. That’s a bit forward. Ignore me”

“No, don’t be daft. I’d be honoured. She can call me whatever she wants, I’m just glad to have you both. I’m in this for the long run so yeah, I’d love nothing more than to be her dad. Thank you babe. Thank you for not only being the best thing in my life but for also giving me Lexi, I’ve never felt more at home” he said honestly, snuggling into his boyfriend.

“You are at home Callum. Me and Lexi are the lucky ones. Guys like you don’t end up with guys like me” he smiled “we’re both so lucky.”

“You’re a good guy Ben and I’m glad I am with you” he said, kissing him.

“Suppose I’m alright” he remarked, murmuring against his lips.

“Shut up” Callum said back, smirking and nibbling his boyfriends lip as they kissed.

This was bliss. He never wanted it to end.

——

And it didn’t 6 months later and they’d move into Callum’s flat together, Stuart and Rainie having moved into Bens old room at Ians. Jay and Lola also lived with Billy, making sharing Lexi between them really easy. Lexi had her own room at both of the places and absolutely loved it.

Ben had reluctantly let her have Paul’s old room, the memories making it hard, but he knew Paul would be happy for them.

Callum loves their little family; him, Ben, Lexi, Jay, Lola, Stuart and Bens parents. Kathy was the most supportive mother in the world and Callum adored her just as she adored him. He finally had a mother to look up to.

As for Phil, he was most likely their biggest supporter. After finding out about his wife’s betrayal, he relied heavily on his son and in turn Callum. As a thanks he’d sold some old bits of Sharon’s that he’d bought her, earrings, shoes, bags, the lot, and gave the money to the boys as a housewarming gift alongside a bottle of champagne and the keys to the vintage car Ben had been eyeing up since he was twelve.

Everything was going well. And then she said it.

Callum was helping out on their nightly routine. Lexi was staying over and had gotten herself ready for bed whilst her dad got her milk and cookies and Callum found a book to read. He positioned himself on the bed and read the book. The same enthusiasm he had had the first 10 times he had read it.

As he finished the story he noticed Ben had been lurking in the door way ever since he’d gave Lexi her supper.

“You know you don’t have to spy babe, I know you like the stories. Just a shame you got relegated as storyteller” Callum said, teasing as Ben came in the room, sitting beside him.

“Yeah yeah, I was just admiring your voices. Goldilocks is a bit off” he laughed.

“Well I like how you read them, thank you daddy” Lexi said, tiredly.

“I didn’t do anything darling” Ben said confused.

“I was talking to daddy Callum, daddy” she said, looking sheepish after her confession. “I’m sorry daddy, I didn’t mean to upset you” she said noticing Ben had tears.

“I’m not upset baby, I’m happy. I’m so happy that you love Callum, we both wanted to let you decide when or even if you called him daddy”

“Well I love him daddy, he may not be my real daddy but neither is daddy Jay. Mummy says I’m really lucky cos I have three daddy’s and a really cool mum”

“Well she’s not wrong Lex, you have an amazing mum and an amazing dad, I’m honoured to be one of your extra dads, and I love you too” Callum said crying, reaching out to hug her. “Now get some sleep, we’re going to the fair tomorrow”

“Okay, night daddies” she said, arms reaching out for her dads.

“Night Lex” they said in unison, hugging her before leaving quietly as she settled down. They silently got a beer and sat down on the sofa, the weight of what just happened playing heavily on both their minds as the smiled to themselves.

“I love you, you big softy” Callum blushed, looking down at his beer. “Wait till I tell Phil about your little soft lad routine. Your hard man reputation will be out the window” he giggled, leaning over to kiss him.

“I don’t care” Ben said, pulling away momentarily “I’d rather be a soft lad for you than a hard man on my own any day”

“Stupid” Callum giggled, blushing harder “love you though”

“Love you too” Ben murmured. And he did. For the first time since Paul he was in love. He didn’t believe in happy endings, but if he did this would be it.

Fin.

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flannelpunkcalum · 6 years ago

Text

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

ok technically it’s thursday my dudes but I had to flesh the chapter out a little at the last minute bc I decided you guys deserved another 300 words on this beautiful May night. and yes I KNOW calum’s head is cut off in the photo it’s VAGUELY SYMBOLIC and I didn’t feel like finding another picture also content warning for violence (again) like and subscribe!

“Aspen.” Liam says. His fingers tighten a little in her hair, trying to direct her gaze. “Aspen.”

But there’s nothing he can do. Aspen looks loosely over his shoulder, sees it on the concrete floor in front of her, laid out like a crime show murder board. The killer’s not someone in spandex with a bad temper. He’s a businessman with a drive for power and people like Liam who will make it happen for him.

Liam. How did he become this… this chimera of corporate and old fashioned violence? She meets his brown eyes. She had thought they were warm, once.

He’s still kneeling by her side, making her neck ache with the force of his grip. “Hey.” He says. He doesn’t know what to do, either. “Just - just talk to me. Who’s it gonna hurt? What time does he get to work? Hey, McMichael. It’s gonna be alright. Just -” He sighs. “I don’t want to hit you again.”

“So don’t.” Aspen surprises herself. She doesn’t know where that came from, she had been meaning to bite her tongue until they ripped it out. But when Liam met her eyes, let go and stood up, he was fucked up. She could see it. And she grabbed on to that shred of weakness. “Let’s go. Hood likes me, and if you - if you get me out of here I can get him to help you too -”

“Shut up.”

“- and we can just go, get out of Gotham and -” This time, Aspen saw Liam wind up to hit her and she squeezed her eyes shut before his open hand made contact. It was worse, knowing it was coming - even as her head snapped to the side again the image of Liam standing over her like that burned on the inside of her eyelids. “Fuck.” She groaned lowly, turning her head and rubbing her aching cheek on her shoulder.

“I’m done playing.” Liam says, pacing in front of her. Maybe he’ll get so worked up he’ll just walk out one of the open windows and fall to his death. He doesn’t, though. He grabs the back of her chair and starts dragging her backwards towards one of the gaping spaces in the walls, and then Aspen panics. She flings her weight around, grunting, trying to knock the chair out of his grip, but he just grabs on with his second hand and keeps dragging her at a forty-five across the floor. Fuck. Fuck. The sound of the metal of the chair against the concrete floor is like horror movie foley, it feels so loud. Aspen gasps for breath as Liam stops, pushing the chair so it jolts back to upright. The wind is stronger here. She can feel the ledge like the edge of a knife behind her.

Liam’s not going to kill her. Falcone knows she’s here, if she dies he’ll be mad at Liam and he’ll be in even more trouble. He’s not going to kill her. He’s not.

Liam spins her chair around easily, to make her look at him. His back is to the window, and she thinks if her ankles weren’t chained she could have kicked him just right. He could have fallen out to his death like a Disney villain. “Tell me now.” He says, clapping on his hand on her face, on the cheek still hot with pain. “Tell me everything you fucking know about Hood or I’ll drop you.”

Fear makes Aspen stupid. “You won’t.”

Liam doesn’t smile. It looks like a smile, but it’s like the blade of a scythe on his face. “No?”

He’s a big guy, but Liam moves fast when he wants to. And he wants to. He gets behind her, even while she’s thrashing against the chains, and grabs the back. She can feel the shapes of his knuckles behind her as he moves her the two feet, towards the edge - he’s not gonna kill her, he’s not he’s not he’s not - and he pushes.

Aspen screams. She can feel her body drop for an inch or two until the chains catch it - but Liam doesn’t kill her. He’s just tilted the chair so she’s dangling out the window. But there’s wind on her face, and she can see headlights tracing themselves below her on the city streets. For one terrible moment, she can see herself falling, ragdoll-like, dropping on top of one of those cars. A dent like a crater in some BMW’s roof. Liam’s talking, she realizes. He’s yelling. “Start fucking talking!”

“I don’t know!” Aspen yells, just on instinct. “I - you know when Calum gets in to work. It’s eight thirty. Liam, stop this!”

“Finally have something to say, huh?” The chair tips forwards even more. The ends of the legs slip a fraction of an inch. Aspen screams again, a strangled little whimper. She tried to remember how she was tied to the chair. How likely it was that she’d slip. “What else?”

“I don’t know!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, I know you write it down!”

Aspen can barely hear him over the wind and blood rushing through her ears. “I can’t - just stop and I’ll tell you!”

The chair doesn’t pull back. She’s still dangling, her eyes still fixed on the headlights below. “Tell me what his lunch plans are.” Liam growls, and she swears she feels the legs of the chair slip a millimeter closer to the edge.

Bar Mercutio with the head of Hood Auto. The answer is right on her tongue. She opens her mouth -

“Liam.”

Aspen gets yanked back inside so fast it almost makes her dizzy. Her back slams against the chair but she’s thankful for the sting. She’s alive and upright and sweat is coating her like a second skin and she’s alive.

“Liam, that’s no way to treat a guest.”

Wait. She knows that voice.

She’s still catching her breath, but she hears Liam behind her, stepping away from her chair. “She’s not cooperating, Don Falcone.”

“She wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place.” Aspen doesn’t dare look over her shoulder. She hears some meaty thud, knuckles on some soft body part, and she hears Liam try to swallow a groan.

If that’s how Falcone treats his fucking employees, what’s he gonna do to her?

She hears “Angelo, bring her over,” and she hates that all she can do is sit there and listen to heavy footsteps on the concrete floor before she feels knuckles on the back of the chair and she’s being dragged again. This time, she doesn’t bother to thrash and struggle. She couldn’t if she wanted to. Her body is heavy with fear.

The chair gets swung around and rattles to stillness in front of Falcone, who looks almost exactly as polished as he did in Calum’s office that morning all those weeks ago. At least he’s giving her a little respect before she dies.

Because that’s what happens next. Of course it is. She knows Liam’s working for him, knows Falcone is behind all the CEO killings - she doesn’t know why, to fill the power vacuum or something, but it doesn’t matter. Calum’s next and she knows when he’s going to be alone, or in transit, or whenever you kidnap someone, and they’re gonna hurt her until she tells them and then they’re gonna kill her.

No one even knows she’s missing, for chrissake.

“Hello again, little girl.”

Aspen bites down on the inside of her lower lip to keep herself from crying. “Don Falcone.” She says, after a long moment.

“I hear you’ve been uncooperative tonight.”

She knows it’s stupid, but in her terror she tries lying again. “I don’t know his schedule off by heart, I’m sorry.” Her voice is slick with fear, she can hear it.

Don Falcone doesn’t even raise his eyebrows. “Not very good at your job, then, are you, my dear?”

“I-I guess not.”

“Hmm.” He says, pulling a white piece of paper from his pocket. Aspen’s heart sinks as she recognizes it. It’s the schedule he stole all those weeks ago from Calum’s office, dog-eared and battered by now. He wants her to know he knows she’s lying, she can tell from the little look he gives her over the top of the page. Her chest heaves. Fuck. “You should have talked to Liam,” He says, folding the paper and putting it back into his pocket. “I might have let him keep you. Oh, we could have gone far together, Ms. McMichael.”

Aspen doesn’t say anything. She becomes aware of Liam lurking in a dimly lit patch of the room, but she can’t take her eyes of Falcone. Keep him talking, a little voice whispers. Evil monologue. If he’s talking, he can’t hurt you. “What would you want with me?” She says, and she doesn’t have to try to make her voice shake.

“A woman of your talents? All manner of things,” He says. “I’m a businessman, same as Mr. Hood. I always need people like you, loyal people. Look at Liam. I need him same as I need men like Angelo here. It’s not like the old days, little girl.” He checks his watch, like this is a meeting running a hair too long. “I don’t have to bribe the police anymore. I am the police.”

“What I don’t understand -” And Aspen knows this is risky, showing her hand, but Falcone obviously intends to kill her and she’ll take every second she has left - “what I don’t understand is why. Sionis and Trident and- and Mr. Hood, what did they have that you needed? You rule Gotham -”

“I don’t rule Gotham. Yet. But I will. Fear is a powerful tool. You’ll see.” Falcone jerks his chin at the man standing behind her, the one who dragged her in here again, and he squats to the floor. Aspen looks to see him rolling out a leather knife roll, like chefs carry, but the metal that catches her eye is glinting off pliers, and then a hammer, and next to that is a scalpel, and she can’t look anymore. With a small sound she turns her eyes back to Falcone, who watches her like a hawk as she licks her lips. “Once the Gotham elite are pissing their designer suits, they’ll be desperate for any solution. And I’ve built myself a reputation for running a tight operation. It’s one thing to take control, but it’s much more delicious to have it handed to you.”

“So why Calum?”

“Calum?” Fuck. Falcone leans down until his eyes are level with hers, putting his hands on his knees for support. Aspen tries very hard not to squirm. “Is that why you’re holding your tongue?” He reached out and cupped her face with one hand, soft and moist like a toad’s belly. At this point, she didn’t have the control to try and hide her revulsion. His thumb rests on her cheekbone, dangerously close to the whiteness of her eye. “So sweet, thinking of him in your last moments. I promise you, he won’t return the gesture.”

Aspen felt the remnants of champagne toss in her belly. That was what she was doing, wasn’t it? Pathetic.

“Look at you. Loyal as a dog.” He said, patting her cheek twice - well, it was closer to a slap - before he let her go and straightened up. “What did he do to deserve you, hm? All he had to do was reach up your skirt, and -”

“It’s not like that. You’re wrong.” Aspen said, curling her hands into useless fists.

“Am I?” Falcone smiled. It was worse than his disdain. “Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you see him one more time before I have you killed. You’d make such a pretty picture, you two lovers, yes? The intrepid little secretary, gutted like a fish. Like a sweet promise on the other side.”

Aspen swallowed hard. She wished she had a watch. Play for time, play for time. It was just - this was impossible to ignore. “You’re a poet.” She managed around the bad taste in her mouth.

“Of course. I don’t enjoy this.” Oh, he did, he clearly did, looking down at her, watching her test her chains like a moth jerking on a pin. “I’m not a violent man, sweetheart. I have Angelo for that.”

She really was going to throw up. This abject fucking man. “So why Calum, then? I’m sure having his net worth parceled off into a trust for the kid isn’t in your best interest.”

Don Falcone eyed her for a second, and for a moment fear tightened like a fist around her lungs. He knew she was trying to waste his time. But after a moment, he let himself answer. After all, she was going to be dead within the hour. “Oh, I don’t need his money now. After his gala? After everything he’s done for the city? His death will be the tipping point. No, no. He could never be the first, either. You see that.”

“Of course.” She did understand. Calum’s d- fuck, she couldn’t even think the word, but it had to be the climax, not the overture.

He glances at his watch again, then back at her wan little face. Aspen knows with cold certainty that this is it. “I’ve done enough talking. It’s your turn, my dear.”

Is she really gonna let herself go through this? Keep playing dumb? Her mom is gonna be so sad, she realized, when they can’t have an open casket, and she has to gasp for air for a second. “No, wait, please, I - I can’t tell you anything, I’m so sorry. I don’t know anything!” she hears herself babbling, some small part of her making the choice for her. These minutes of life are precious, even if they’re going to hurt.

Falcone’s not even listening, she realizes, as he talks over her. He’s still so fucking cool, even while he’s figuring out where to dump her body. “Angelo, the ear, I think.” He says, and Aspen breaks as he grabs a handful of her hair and hauls it out off the right side of her face. She’s gone weak - she thinks she’s saying wait, wait, no, please - but he’s not listening. He’s not listening. “Maybe you’ll behave better once you know I’m serious. Don’t bite your tongue, please, or you’ll be no more use to me.” Aspen’s crying again now, she can’t help it, her heart is pounding in her ears - fuck - and the grip in her hair gets tighter until she thinks if she moves he’ll rip it out. Her head is locked in his grip and braced against his body, he smells like leather and something mechanical, she can’t escape it this close. Out of the corner of her eye she sees something silver glint at her like teeth. No. No. No.

That thing about knives being too sharp to hurt? That’s bullshit.

She feels it slip through the first layers of skin, body jolting despite the hold he has on her. And then it starts to /hurt/ and then he meets the cartilage and he has to saw for every millimeter and she can feel the movement go through her body. There’s blood trickling down the side of her face now. Through her blurry vision, she sees Falcone in front of her, and she doesn’t need to see his face to know he is unmoved.

And then she sees something else.

It happens like this - all at once. Cause and effect jumbled.

Someone all in black comes through the window she was dangled out of.

The grip on her hair eases.

Something flies through the air with a shriek.

Something clicks with electricity. It smells like ozone.

Aspen turns to look.

And the knife slips.

#mwahahahaha #is it calum finally doing something?#is it the cops?#is it another evil hitman?#tune in next week to find out #i should have saved the symbolism until next week tbh but whatever #cw: violence #content warning #ch blurb #calum hood fic #calum hood series #5 seconds of summer series #my writing #tdwk8 #the devil wears kevlar #also liams in this one #ceo!cal #batman!au

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wendibird · 6 years ago

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Room of Revitalization

Author’s Note: So, this is my submission for @idreamofplaid ‘s Bunker Challenge. (Sorry it’s a day late!) And honestly, I have no excuse because this idea actually came to me several months before she declared her challenge. And I STILL procrastinated like a bad procrastinator who procrastinates. BUT it’s finished now, and I’m actually pretty happy with it. :)

This takes place between Episodes 14X8 “Byzantium” and 14X9 “The Spear”. I’ve tried to stay mostly canon-compliant while possibly taking a few liberties with explaining a few things or going into greater detail in some areas that the show didn’t have time for.

I signed up for: Original Room, and Sam-focused (Has a lot of his POV but also POV from other characters at times.)

Title: The Room of Revitalization

Summary: Sam has been working himself into the ground lately, trying to subsist on two hours of sleep a night or less while also being an emotional support for the people around him, and it’s taking its toll. But long ago, someone amongst the Men of Letters recognized the potential for burn-out among their fellows and worked a fail-safe into the Bunker that would activate when one of their own was pushing themselves too far. Trouble is, no one read the right manual that covers its existence, so when Sam seems to disappear into thin air, “worried” doesn’t quite cover how it makes everyone feel.

Pairings: None (Gen-fic)

Warnings: Minor language, talk of past posessions and other traumas experienced by the brothers but nothing explicit, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, some fluff

Word Count: 6,414

Also found on AO3

Sam tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable on the extra-firm mattress that had been in the room when he and Dean and moved into the Bunker all those years ago. Dean kept bugging him to get a new one but he continued finding reasons to put it off. They weren't hurting for funds AS much as they used to be, thanks to a few artifacts he’d auctioned off online as well as Charlie, (THEIR Charlie) showing Sam a few tips in "Creative Fundraising" as she'd called it. But even so, he didn't NEED a new mattress. It's not like the springs were poking out of this one or anything like that. It just wasn't as comfortable as Memory Foam. Which was okay. He didn't need that much extra comfort. He didn't spend that long sleeping anyway.

With a sigh he turned over again and peered at the red numbers on his alarm clock. 2:30 am. He'd be getting up in a few more hours to check on any messages that might have come in during the night from the teams out on hunts. Plus, he still had some more research to do. One group was running into some problems with some murders that weren't fitting any of the standard lore. And he was still researching ways to take out an archangel. Dean was getting more and more antsy about that. Not that he blamed him. It wasn't easy knowing that the thing that had ridden you around for a while was still out there, still causing trouble, still hurting people, and you couldn't stop it. They still didn't know WHY Micheal had just let Dean go like that. Dean didn't want to talk about that either, and again, Sam couldn't particularly blame his brother. But it still niggled at the back of his mind. Micheal never seemed to do anything without a reason.

His arm started to get sore so he shifted over onto his stomach, tucking both arms under the pillow as he tried to get his thoughts to settle. But they continued to flit around in his head like a herd of humming birds. Or would it be a flock? Did humming birds flock? That would be pretty loud. They were louder than most people realized. He remembered one time they'd been in Colorado on a case. Boulder, wasn't it? They were interviewing a witness, sitting out on her back patio, and the little jeweled things had been zipping all around them, from one feeder or brightly colored flower to another. The buzzing of their wings had almost made him think of large insects. Dean had almost swatted one, purely on instinct as it buzzed just a little too close to his head, and the nice old lady had actually hit him with a fly-swatter, scolding him for trying to hurt her babies...

...Why the hell was he thinking about hummingbirds?

Rolling back over, he looked at the clock again. 2:40.

Thing was, he was actually tired. He felt like he should be able to sleep for days he was so bone-deep weary. Not that he could. People needed him to be there, doing what he did; keeping things running. Cas and Jack were off on a small case, just a little over the border in Nebraska. Dean was about ready to jump at any sliver of a chance that came up of dealing with Michael, whether or not they could confirm it was actually a “good” chance. Ketch was still trying to track down another of those golden eggs. (Apparently, the one they'd used on Lucifer back in the day, and then handed over to Cas for safe keeping had burnt itself out on the Archangel. Now it was a pretty paper weight sitting on Storage Shelf 32-C.) Jody and the girls had just had Thanksgiving with Donna over, had invited them all too, but... there was just too much going on. Always too much going on.

At least Jack was okay though. Well, mostly okay. His soul was keeping him alive now. That was another thought that lurked at the back of Sam's mind, like a dark-colored cat hiding in the shadows, ready to pounce when you weren't looking. One of their babysitters when they were kids had had a cat like that. It’d hated Dean for some reason. Was always trying to attack his legs when he’d least expected it. Sam had managed to coax it into letting him pet it a few times. He kind of wished he could get Jack a pet. Something he could feel responsible for, that would also return his affection unconditionally. Goodness knows, the kid needed someone or something that could be there for him.

A tightness formed in Sam's chest at the thought. He WANTED to be there for Jack. He wanted to tell him that he understood, maybe better than Jack thought. He remembered being able to help people with his powers, and then not. Of feeling that helplessness when faced with a demon wearing some innocent person when once he'd been able to pull that sulfurous black smoke right out of the person without killing them. But that was all tangled up in so many other things. Things about demon blood, and the Apocalypse, and his role in it, and Lucifer and Michael, (their Michael) and... and other things. Things he wasn't ready to talk about. And Jack didn't need all of that. He still blamed himself for so many things that weren't his fault. He didn't need to hear about all the horrible things his biological father and uncle had tried to do to the world. And Sam definitely didn't want to get into what it had taken to stop them. It wouldn't help Jack to know that about Lucifer now.

And in the same vein, he wanted to explain to Jack why it was SO important to use this new magic of his sparingly. He wanted to tell him why it was imperative that he not risk his soul. Because he knew... he had two sets of memories still, of that time when his soul had been in one place, and his body and mind in another. He honestly tried not to think about either. One left him reeling in agony, even to this day, and the other left him feeling cold and hallow. But how could he possibly explain to Jack about why he'd been running around soulless for about a year and a half without explaining everything else? He wasn't even sure if he would be able to if he tried. The mind had so many layers, and those memories, both halves, he'd tried to bury as deeply as he could because his brother had been right about hell. There was no "getting over" it. It would be there, forever. It wasn't meant for mortals to comprehend, and it couldn't be fixed with some therapy and talking it out. (Or screaming it out.)

And anything else he tried to tell Jack felt like it came up short. It wasn't enough. Wasn't what he needed. Same with Dean, really. He could probably understand how his brother felt better than anyone else. But the words, or at least the right ones, always seemed to get stuck in his throat. Plus... well, some comparisons he could draw might only make Dean feel worse. He didn’t have the words to help either of them, even as he saw them both struggling, so he’d put all his efforts into helping in any practical ways that he could; making sure Jack ate right so his body would have the strength it needed, researching solutions to the Michael problem, keeping the AU Hunters organized so Dean wouldn’t have to worry as much about all the other monster problems out there, even shouldering as much of the parenting responsibilities as he could so Cas could also be there for Dean. His brother didn’t exactly have a wide support system, so he wanted to be sure he and his best friend had chances to talk. If his brother ever actually felt like talking.

2:55. Exasperated, Sam gave up and got out of bed, deciding to give the bathroom a visit. Then maybe he'd find some boring lore to read.

~o~O~o~

After washing his hands a few minutes later, he started wandering in the general direction of the library. He paused for a moment as a yawn nearly dislocated his jaw, then noticed light coming from under and around a door that was just barely cracked open. He glanced at the room number but something about it... he shook his head abruptly, trying to clear it. It was like when he'd been up WAY too long, and he'd read the same passage in a book over and over again and none of the information would sink in. He hadn't thought anyone else was up...

"Um, hello?" He knocked tentatively on the door, but there was no answer. Opening it cautiously, he peered inside and raised his eyebrows a little. It was a room with the same concrete and brick walls and tile floor as most of the ones there, but where most had a utilitarian, or stuffy feel, this was... cozy. Set into the far wall was a fireplace of green marble that had white and black veins running through it, and a fire was already flickering inside behind a brass screen. Next to it was a coordinating brass bin that held extra wood and on the other side were some fireplace tools. In front of it on the floor was a braided rug in autumn colors upon which sat a comfortable looking armchair, complete with footstool and a small table next to it. The lamps scattered throughout the room gave off just enough light to make it feel inviting without being too bright. His eyes were next drawn to a bookshelf just to the right of the door against the wall. He barely noticed the door closing behind him as he moved to inspect it more closely, finding quite a few titles that he'd often intended to read just for the fun of it but for one reason or another had never gotten around to.

Well, he'd been looking for some way to get his mind to settle... Smiling, he pulled one from the shelf. Its cover was a faded red, almost the color of creamy tomato soup, and on the front in friendly, inviting letters was printed "The Marvelous Land of Oz". Stepping over to the armchair, he settled down into it with a contented sigh. It was comfortable. Really comfortable, considering he usually found it difficult to find chairs that actually fit his long legs and torso just right. A soft, plaid blanket that he hadn't noticed before was slung over the back and he pulled it forward, draping it over his legs before propping them up on the footstool. The lamp on the little table next to him gave off just the right amount of light; enough so he could read easily without straining his eyes, but not so bright as to be glaring. Comfortable now, he opened the book and began reading, the delightful prose helping his thoughts to calm their constant whirling.

~o~O~o~

Sam was just about to start into Chapter 10, "The Journey to the Tin Woodman" when he realized he was a bit thirsty. Dreading the long trip to the kitchen when he was already so comfortable, he almost considered ignoring his thirst for now when his attention was caught by a small but serviceable looking wet-bar against the far wall, made of the deep, rich mahogany that much of the furniture in the Bunker seemed to have been fashioned from. Strange... he hadn't noticed it earlier. But, he thought to himself, he hadn't really looked THAT hard at that particular wall either. Standing up and stretching, he then padded over to it, finding everything in good (and clean,) condition. He considered some of the alcohol that was available but wound up going with just some ice water (yeah, that was fresh ice in the bucket,) for now.

As he sipped the water he took a moment to really look around the room. It had a few wall-hangings, giving the place some color without being jarring to the eyes. Most were replicas (he figured) of old tapestries. There were also a few oil paintings of pastoral settings. In one of the closer corners was an old-time gramophone, the brass edging on the black, lacquered bell gleaming warmly in the firelight. Curious, he set his glass down and walked over to it, examining it carefully. It seemed like it might be in working order. Opening the wood-inlaid cabinet it was sitting on, he found an array of discs for it. Flipping through them idly at first, he paused when he came to one titled “Assorted works by Bach”. A soft smile pulled at his lips and he nodded a little to himself as he straightened back up again. Bach had always appealed to him; something about the precision and purity of the music helped him relax in ways that few other things could. After a few moments he got it working and soon the strains of two violins could be heard coming from the antique music player. He set the volume down low, not wanting to awaken Dean, then took his water back to his chair.

As he sat back down again a feeling of peace seemed to settle over him. A cork coaster was sitting on the small table next to the lamp, (had it been there before?) ready for his glass, and as he leaned into the supportive padding of the backrest, he felt it give way just a bit, and the entire back began to lean back with just a little intentional pressure applied.

If he thought about it... this room kind of made him think of the "Dean Cave". In the way that the "Dean Cave" was the ideal place for his brother to sit back and really relax, this place was ideal for him. Had Dean put this together for him? He was pretty sure they'd found every room to be found in the Bunker, and he would have remembered one like this. And honestly, Dean HAD put his own rec-room together entirely without Sam noticing. With a shrug, he decided he'd ask him about it in the morning. For now, he wanted to get back to his book. Pulling the blanket back over his legs again, he picked it up and delved into the next chapter.

~o~O~o~

Ten minutes later he was blinking as he tried to keep his eyes open, the lower sounds of a cello now reaching him from the far corner.

Twenty minutes later he was snoring softly, the book resting open across his chest. Gradually, the lights in the room seemed to dim, even the fire itself burning down low to just some softly glowing coals which kept the room comfortable but not too hot. The seat reclined back further and Sam sighed, unconsciously pulling the blanket up closer in his sleep.

~o~O~o~

“Where the hell is he?!” Dean yelled. Again.

If Castiel weren’t just as worried as Dean, he might have found himself annoyed at his friend’s constant repetition of the same question which obviously still didn’t have an answer. But, the angel WAS worried. “I don’t know Dean. We’ve searched every room in the Bunker. We even found a few previously undiscovered ones.” “And none of the cars are missing.” Jack added in, holding up a clipboard with a sign-out sheet, listing all the vehicles the Bunker crew had. Included were the antique ones left over from the previous Men of Letters as well as the random stolen or otherwise obtained ones used for the various other Hunters who came and went. Sam had put it together some while ago when most of the AU Hunters were still using the Bunker as their base of operations. It had made things much less confusing when trying to figure out what was available for supply runs and what was being prepped for going out on hunts. Jack had thought of checking it to see if anything was missing that shouldn’t be. “All the ones not here were signed-out a while ago by people out on long-distance hunts. So, he didn’t leave by one of our cars.”

“It’s been THREE days!” Dean yelled, his voice a bit rough. He’d been doing a lot of yelling for the past two. “His phone’s still here. His clothes are still here. His laptop’s still here. Looks like his bed was slept in. But no Sammy.”

Cas and Jack both nodded. They’d heard the litany of things-not-missing since Dean had called them about two and a half days ago. They had just been wrapping up the hunt they were on anyway, so they’d made their best speed possible back to the Bunker. (Cas didn’t usually like to go over the speed limit by THAT much, but they had mainly been traveling country backroads that were mostly deserted. And Sam was missing. Neither he nor Jack had debated the urgency of the situation.) When they’d arrived Dean had already searched the place high and low, but they’d all done another, even more thorough search; not just looking for Sam himself, but for any clues as to his mysterious disappearance. Little to nothing had been discovered though. There were no signs of blood or other injury, and as Dean had just said, none of the usual personal items were missing that Sam would normally take with him if he were leaving of his own accord. (And with his cell phone there in his room on his nightstand, they couldn’t try tracking him with that.) He hadn’t left by car, or at least, not by any of their cars. None of the warding had been tampered with, nothing looked odd or disturbed outside the bunker, and Castiel hadn’t sensed any odd energies or residues that weren’t normally there. It was like the younger Winchester brother had simply vanished.

He was trying to remain calm for both Dean and Jack’s sakes, but the truth was, all of them were very worried.

“Alright,” came the thick, brogue-accented voice of the most powerful witch any of them knew personally. (And fortunately for them, she had been feeling heavily inclined towards helping them in the past several years, especially, the angel had noticed, if it had anything to do with Sam.) “I think I’ve gotten all the things I’ll need. Now, if ye’ll all just clear one o’ these tables, I’ll get this set up.”

Usually ready for a snappy comeback, Dean instead set right to work clearing-off the table in the middle; the one that had his and Sam’s initials carved into it. Cas and Jack moved to help him with it.

Rowena set down the large bronze bowl she’d been carrying and began removing items from it: several different candles, a mortar and pestle, a silk cloth in which some various herbs were wrapped, a box of matches, and a few other bottles with different liquids or other substances. Her hand brushed briefly over Sam’s initials as she considered them. “Did he by chance carve these by his own hand? Or did ye each carve each other’s?”

Dean looked up briefly, apparently taken off-guard by the question, but noticing that she seemed to be asking in seriousness, he shrugged and shook his head. “Naw, we each carved our own.”

She nodded firmly and began pouring ingredients into the bowl. “Wonderful. I can use that as a focus.” Noting everyone’s perplexed expressions, she rolled her eyes a bit. “Think of it like a lightnin’ rod. Since he carved it, it’ll help draw the energies I’ll be usin’ t’ scry for him. Now, Dean, did ye get a hair or fingernail or somethin’ like that of his like I asked ye to?”

Dean paused in his pacing, nodding as he fished a small envelope out of his pocket. “Yeah, found a few hairs on his pillow.”

Rowena accepted them while Cas and Jack stood a bit to the side, watching curiously. Setting them carefully aside for the moment, she went to work grinding the herbs.

“Thar we go, I think we’re about ready.” Straightening up, she looked over her work again and nodded before waving an elegantly manicured hand at Jack. “Jackie-boy, would ye be good enough to turn off the lights in here?”

Nodding, seemingly glad to have something to do, Jack moved to turn off the overhead lights then each of the various table lamps. Meanwhile, Rowena began lighting the candles which were arrayed in a particular formation around the bowl with one alone, the white one, sitting directly on Sam’s initials. She lit it last, and once they were all that was illuminating the library she began chanting while methodically adding the last several ingredients. Last of all she dropped in the longish, brown hairs and the white candle flared brightly. Cas noticed that everyone, including himself, seemed to lean in closer, uncertain as to whether it was working or not. Rowena’s gaze remained fixed on the white candle, her brows slowly furrowing. “I don’t like that look…” Dean grumbled under his breath.

The red-head seemed to ignore him for several minutes as the candle flame alternately flared high then down low, almost winking out altogether. Eventually, it grew steady and even and Rowena blew out an exasperated sigh. “Well… that could’a been more helpful…”

“What? What’d you find out?” the anxiety that had gripped Dean since his brother’s disappearance plain as day in his voice.

“Well…” she paused for a moment, seeming to be gathering her thoughts more than any attempt at drama. “I found out that he’s alive, first and foremost.” The relief Castiel felt was clearly shared with the other two, if their expressions were anything to go by. “But,” she added, holding up her hand to forestall comments, “I canna tell where he is. At all. Well, he’s somewhere on Earth, I can say THAT at least. And that he doesn’a seem in bad health. But wherever he is, it’s blockin’ any attempts at findin’ him.”

Dean sunk into one of the chairs, a defeated look on his face.

Jack looked over at Cas, raising an eyebrow questioningly. The angel shook his head though. “I already tried contacting Naomi. Apparently, I’ve “used-up my favors” in Heaven at the moment. And besides, the Enochian sigils I carved into his ribs a while back would prevent him from being found by angelic means.”

Jack nodded, though his brows scrunched up in puzzlement. “Why would you have-” “Jack.” Dean’s voice, though not raised like it had seemed to be a lot lately, still held a note of command. “So not the time for that conversation.”

Jack sighed but nodded, his shoulders drooping as a feeling of despondence seemed to settle over him as well.

Rowena, who’d begun blowing out candles and packing up the supplies after turning on the nearest lamp now paused to rest a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Don’a forget, wherever he is, he’s alive and he’s well. We know that much at least. Now, all we can do is wait an hope he returns.

Jack nodded slowly, though he felt a burning in his eyes that had nothing to do with the wisps of smoke rising from the extinguished candles. “But… what if he doesn’t?”

Rowena tried to smile encouragingly, but even she couldn’t keep the sadness from her eyes. She didn’t have an answer for him, so she just gave him another squeeze before going back to clearing-up.

~o~O~o~

Sam yawned and stretched, slowly waking up. As he did so, the lamps in the room gradually brightened and the fire flickered back to life, crackling merrily by the time he’d opened his eyes. Though he was completely comfortable, he also felt fully rested and sat up, the armchair reassuming its original configuration. At some point in the night he must have put the book on the small table because there it sat with a bookmark in it, next to the glass of still cold water. Feeling a bit thirsty, he drank down the rest of it before standing up and stretching, hearing several of his vertebrae popping.

“Might have to come in here more often…” he mumbled to himself, giving the room a last fond look before opening the door and walking back into the hallway. Everything still seemed pretty quiet, so he had no idea what time it was. (He made a mental note to see about putting a clock of some kind in there, next chance he got.)

After using the bathroom he followed the smells of frying bacon and eggs towards the kitchen. Stepping down into the room, he waved casually at those gathered, mumbling out a “Mornin’ everyone.” on his way to the coffee pot, pausing when he belatedly realized that not only had Cas and Jack apparently gotten back in the night, but Rowena was there too.

He didn’t really have time to ponder that before he was attacked by three grown men (well, two grown men and one angel,) trying to hug him all at once, and everyone was yelling, and asking him questions, and he couldn’t understand any of them cause they were all talking at once, and he was feeling very confused.

“Enough!” Rowena’s commanding voice cut through everyone else’s causing them to fall silent, though no one seemed inclined to let go of Sam anytime soon. “Samuel, dear,” she inquired sweetly, “Would ye be so good as to tell us where ye’ve been fer the past FOUR days?”

Sam’s eyes widened as he looked between those hugging him and the witch. “Four…. Days?” he responded weakly. (Cas seemed to have forgotten his own strength and breathing was steadily becoming more difficult.) The red-head rolled her eyes. “Och, will ye all let him breathe for a minute before ye suffocate the poor lad? Come on…” She tapped at various shoulders until, reluctantly, they let go of Sam who was starting to be able to breathe easier again.

Shaking his head at the shocking news, Sam moved over to the table they’d all just recently been sitting at. (Well, Cas, Jack and Rowena had been sitting at. Dean had been over by the stove cooking something.) “Dean,” he waved over towards the stove. “Think your bacon’s burning.”

Shaking his own head, his brother grumbled as he stalked back over to it. “Vanishes for days and then what does he do? Lectures me about my cooking.” There was no venom in it though. In fact, relief seemed to practically pour off of him even while doing something as simple as turning off the stove and dumping the extra-extra-crispy bacon onto a plate, which he brought over with him to the table.

While Dean was doing that, Sam did his best to collect himself as he tried to reconcile what they’d said with what he remembered. “I was here the whole time.” Reaching out, he idly took one of the pieces and began crunching on it. “In that new lounge room. Though I could swear I was just there from last night… well, early this morning really, til’ now.”

Four confused faces regarded him and he held his arms out in exasperation. “You know, that room I’m guessing you set up for me? Has a fireplace, a comfy armchair, some books, is actually decorated nice…” The faces only grew more confused and he realized now how unlikely it would have been for Dean of all people to have decorated a room like that with tasteful wall-hangings and oil paintings. “You didn’t put it together.”

It wasn’t really a question but Dean shook his head anyway.

Jack, who seemed not only confused but also getting close to irritated also shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. We searched the whole Bunker. Several times. We looked in every room and broom closet and corner in this place.”

“Samuel,” Rowena interjected, “Why don’t ye just show us where you were?”

Nodding, Sam lead the way back down the hallway, making a few turns until he at last came to a stop outside… a mop closet? Shaking his head, he opened and closed it a couple times, but it didn’t seem inclined to change back to the cozy room he’d spent the night, (or, the last 4 days) in. “I swear, this is where it was.” He was starting to understand how Lucy from the Narnia books had felt that first time she’d stepped back through the wardrobe. Only, the time dilation seemed to run opposite in this case.

“Hold on.” Cas said, and stepped closer, opening the door again. On the inside of it was tacked an envelope of some thick, old-fashioned-looking paper. Taking it down, he turned so everyone could see it. On the outside, in neat handwriting was written:

Room of Revitalization Report for Samuel Winchester Men of Letters Legacy

Cas turned it over and broke the red wax seal on the back with the Aquarian Star stamped into it. Opening it, he took out a sheet of paper, also written in the same handwriting. At the top was the current date then the following message:

Four days prior, the Room of Revitalization was activated due to the physical and emotional distress of one Samuel Winchester. (MOL Legacy, descendant of Henry Winchester) As per protocol 158-B the RoR provided comfort based on Samuel’s subconscious needs, releasing him once his chronic fatigue had lessened to acceptable levels.

In order to avoid future reoccurrences of this problem, the following steps are recommended:

Samuel should make all reasonable attempts to sleep for a minimum of 7 hours each night, though 8 would be ideal.

His work-load should be lightened. High levels of mental stress were detected in addition to the physical fatigue.

Several unresolved emotional issues were also detected in relation to close-working colleagues or family members, and should be discussed with them to help improve overall morale.

Several hours each day should be set aside for leisure activities.

It is suggested he be sure to ingest 3 nutritionally-balanced meals per day as well as keep himself hydrated.

Attention to personal hygiene is not only good for the body, but for his and others’ morale as well.

Had matters continued unchecked, Samuel would likely have experienced a mental and/or emotional break, as well as causing physical damage from aforementioned fatigue. We hope he will take these recommendations to heart so further intervention can be avoided.

This concludes this report, and the Men of Letters hope Samuel found his stay in the Room of Revitalization enjoyable and restful.

The signature at the bottom was next to impossible to make out.

After everyone had read it, they looked back and forth between Sam and the “report��, and for his part, Sam felt his face heating with embarrassment.

After a few awkward moments, Dean cleared his throat. “So… Looks like this place has an automatic ship’s councilor and holodeck.” He winked at Sam. “Was there a hot-chick in a skin-tight grey pantsuit in there too?”

Huffing a laugh, Sam swatted at his brother, honestly grateful for the tension-release. “Yeah, you wish. Maybe your version would feature Councilor Troi.” He started walking back to the kitchen and the others followed.

~o~O~o~

Later on that day after Dean had personally seen to it that Sam ate a full breakfast and then shooed him off to the shower, they all said goodbye to Rowena then settled down in the library.

Despite Sam’s insistence that he “really was fine now” Dean, with both Cas and Jack fully backing him up, were adamant that at least some of Sam’s workload should get redistributed. By now he should know which people could be relied on to do what so he didn’t have to micromanage everything. Jack was actually very helpful with that, having several ideas as he’d been observing the AU Hunters for some while now. And after a phone conference with Maggie, she agreed to help with organizing the various hunting parties and everyone (including Dean) insisted that they would help out with research.

After that, seeming to sense that the brothers needed to talk alone, Cas offered to go with Jack on a food run and they headed out, though not without both again expressing how glad they were that Sam was back and okay.

Once the steel clang of the door heralded their departure an awkward silence fell between the two. Sam idly scraped at some wax that had dribbled onto the table, not meeting his brother’s eyes. “Look,” they both wound up saying at the same time. After a brief chuckle, Dean gestured for Sam to go ahead. Nodding a little, the younger brother again fixed his eyes on the tabletop and the wax. “I’m sorry. Really. I know how worried you must have been.”

Dean was about to open his mouth, ask if he really did but then paused, considering, and…. Yeah. Sam would know how he’d felt. All the times Dean had died, or vanished, or been angel-napped? And then it hit him just WHAT Sam was apologizing for. “Sam. No.”

His brother looked up at that, his brows furrowed, clearly about to say something but Dean held up his hand, silently asking him to let him talk. “Look, I’m not happy that I spent four friggin’ days not knowing where the hell you were, but I’m glad it happened. Man, I know you’ve been pushing yourself. And I shoulda seen it sooner, I should have noticed how bad it was getting. And I’m glad that that “Room of Requirements” or whatever-”

“Room of Revitalization,” Sam corrected, but Dean waved it off and continued on.

“I’m glad IT at least noticed, and did something before it was too late. And… well, I want you to know, if you… you know. Need to talk…”

Sam half smiled but shook his head. “Dean… really. It’s okay. It’s just… lots of stuff is going on. I want to help Jack more, but I don’t know how. I can tell Mom’s still having problems but I don’t know how to help her either. I’m worried about whatever it is Michael is planning. I’m worried Jack’s going to run into problems eventually with his soul.”

Dean didn’t miss the expression that flashed across his brother’s face for just a moment there, that almost haunted look. He’d never really asked him what all he remembered from being soulless, but it was at times like these when he figured it was more than probably either of them would like. He was also aware of the one thing Sam wasn’t saying, the one person in his list of people he was worried about that he hadn’t mentioned. And he could pretty-well guess why.

Ever since Dean had come back, his possession, what he’d actually experienced and even more so how he felt about it, had been the proverbial elephant in the room with them. He knew Sam wanted him to talk about it, and he had to an extent… but he was also painfully aware of certain aspects of the whole situation that neither of them had come close to addressing; aspects of it that he tried to avoid even thinking about. Because even more so than the horror of what he’d experienced at Michael’s hands, what really got to him, and what lay curled somewhere deep in his gut was the knowledge now of just WHAT it was that he’d done to his brother all those years ago. But he knew Sam would never press him about it, and he just… he couldn’t talk about it. He still couldn’t talk about it.

So, taking a deep breath, he nodded. “Yeah, I get all that. Some of it you can’t really help with though, as much as you want to. Some people… well, they have to figure out their own shit, you know?” He met his brother’s eyes, hoping he’d hear what he wasn’t saying. “Sometimes, even if you know what someone else is going through, they still have to go through it on their own. They have to find their own ways to deal with it. But trust me… They know you care.”

Sam met his gaze and slowly nodded, letting what was unspoken remain that way.

Dean managed a half smile though. “But hey, maybe with Jack you two should go do something together. Hang out. Remind him that you aren’t just the “Rules Dad”, but the one who seems to really get him.”

Sam nodded, returning the half smile, though it seemed genuine. “Yeah… I think that sounds like a good idea.”

“Also,” Dean leveled a stern look at his little brother, “under absolutely NO circumstances are you to get anything less than 7 hours of sleep a night.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, 6 is standard for hunters. And I can make due on 5 without problems.”

“Nuh-uh.” Dean was already shaking his head. “I’ll have Cas knock you out if I have to, but you’re getting your sleep. We’re not risking this happening again.” “Well, what about you then?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“What about me?” Dean tried to look innocent but he had a feeling it wasn’t really working.

“Come on Dean, you barely get 4 hours if you’re lucky.”

“Hey, I’m not the one the Room of Recharging or whatever-”

“Revitaliztion.”

“Right, I’m not the one it cherry-picked for some enforced R&R…”

Their debate continued on in typical sibling fashion, but it was clear that most of the tension in the situation, at least for now, had been released. The spellwork that had been laid into the very walls of the Bunker long ago reverted back to its dormant phase as the crisis threatening one of its inhabitants was averted for the time being. But it would activate again if the need ever arose. Because Men of Letters tended to be a stubborn lot, and working themselves into the ground seemed to be a universal trait among them, which was why the room had been conceived in the first place. The Bunker watched over its own.

#plaidsbunkerchallenge #spn fanfic #sam winchester #emotional hurt/comfort #gen #angst #minor language #past possession mentioned #past trauma mentioned #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #rowena mcleod #room of revitalization

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fortunatelylori · 6 years ago

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Why the Jon/D*any romance doesn’t work (Part 5)

Hey, guys! This last part of my “Why the Jon/Dany romance doesn’t work” series was taken down in the great Tumblr purge and I am now reuploading it. I got a few messages from people wanting to read it and I’m really sorry it’s taken this long to get it back up again. But here it is! :)

This is actually the second part of the “More than 2 is a crowd” section of the series but since it got very, very long I split it up.

Welcome to Days of GOT, the soap-opera where your captor turns into your lover only to turn into your aunt:

The “we’re fucked but not in a good way” scene

youtube

As a general rule, I’ve decided not to take into consideration what any of the people involved in this TV show say in interviews or behind the scenes. They very willingly and intentionally mislead the audience and lie to our faces. I don’t hold it against them but I’m not going to spend my time analyzing and commenting on something that may very well be the writers screwing with me.

However, I find it very interesting that Kit Harrington said that he thought this was the scene where Jon and Dany started liking each other. Because this is, by far, the nicest, friendliest conversation they’ve ever had. It’s almost, dare I say it, human-esque.

Here, I’ll even give you some examples:

Jon: No one is less happy about this than I am.

Dany: I know. I respect what you did. Wish you hadn’t done it but I respect it.

Wow! Appreciation and respect … where have you two been for the duration of this plot?

Dany: […] We weren’t extraordinary without them (dragons). We were just like everyone else.

Jon: You’re not like everyone else.

Hello, validation! Nice to see you again, old friend.

See? Even I’ve been generalized into submission. He’s lucky he’s cute. That’s all I got to say.

Dany: I can’t have children.

Jon: Who told you that?

Dany: The witch who murdered my husband.

Jon: Has it occurred to you she might not have been a reliable source of information?

Dany, you lucky girl! You’ve just been struck by the ever elusive Jon Snow joke! Revel in it for it only comes out to play once a season.

So, all of this is very touching … I mean, I say very …. Mildly, in the near vicinity of touching. It would have been even better had this happened earlier and not in their last private conversation but at this point, beggars can’t be choosers.

However, once you strip away this veneer of friendliness, you do find some quite troubling things in this scene.

Firstly, there’s the main issue they are discussing:

Dany: This place was the beginning of the end for my family. […] A dragon is not a slave. They were terrifying, extraordinary. They filled people with wonder and awe and we locked them in here. They wasted away. They grew small and we grew small as well.

The problem with this speech is that it creates a conundrum for both the audience and Jon. Because Jon’s already heard the flip side of this particular coin, directly from his BFF, Jorah:

Missandei: Why did they build it? (the Dragonpit)

Jorah: Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children … Letting them roam free around the city was a problem.

So how does Jon resolve this issue? He doesn’t. He simply listens to Dany, looks around the Dragonpit and keeps his mouth shut.

Are we to understand that Jon Snow simply doesn’t care about children being burned alive because he wants Dany and her dragons to be as terrifying and awe inspiring as possible?

Isn’t it more likely to assume that Jon simply does what he’s always done in conversations with Dany, essentially keep his thoughts to himself and allow her to think whatever she wants? Which can only mean that despite their pleasantries, their dynamic is essentially the same it’s been since the cave scene. Which, by extension, means we’re just going round and round in ever increasingly polite circles.

Great! I got all excited with no rose petal covered way to go.

Then there’s this:

Dany: You were right from the beginning. If I trusted you, everything would be different.

Jon: So what now?

Dany: I can’t forget what I saw North of the wall. And I can’t pretend Cersei won’t take back half the country the moment I march North.

Remember when I said that Jon had no reason to bend the knee because Dany had already promised to help him defeat the Night King?

Tin foil hat: You know nothing, fortunatelylori!

Shut up, you!

Yes, Jon! You heard that right! A near death experience by either zombification or drowning, a dead uncle and a bent knee later and all you have to show for it is a better placement on Dany’s list of priorities. It used to be -100 before but now the goddamn apocalypse is neck and neck with Dany and Cersei’s competition for a piece of furniture. Enjoy!

The “what is fear of assassination anyway when my hormones are out of wack” scene

youtube

I could analyze every line in this scene but I prefer to cut through all the boring travel arrangements that no one paid attention to and cut to the chase:

Jorah: My queen, love of my life, end all be all of my existence, your safety is paramount to me. Please fly to Winterfell and not risk getting blood all over your pretty blond wig.

Jon: Aaa ... I mean it’s your choice, obviously, but ... would you rather fly and be safe or get on a boat and possibly have sex with me?

Dany: Sex with Jon on a boat, definitely.

However, I will say this is a very interesting line:

Jon: It’s your decision, your Grace. But if we’re going to be allies in this war, it’s important for the Northerners to see us as allies.

It sort of feels like Jon is not giving Dany a choice at all. It’s more of a “my way or the highway” type of proposition but again Dany’s too far down the rabbit hole to notice the difference.

The “this better be good, guys! The whole of Westeros is watching” scene

I’d love to link to b0atbang here but Tumblr hates that scene as much as we do. So for your convenience, I have decided to put my considerable artistic talents to good use and I have drawn what I believe is almost an exact representation of it:

Guys, I spent almost 30 seconds in Paint doing this so please show me some love. Tread carefully, Tumblr, for you are treading on my dreams!

We started this section of the series talking about the “more than 2 is a crowd” rule so it seems only fitting that we should end with this: the most crowded sex scene since whatever porno film you watched last night.

There are 6 people involved in this scene and that’s excluding the actual two people that are having sex! Six people, most of them related to one or both Jon and Dany.

We have Jon’s mother but also Dany’s sister in law, Jon’s uncle but also adoptive father, Jon’s real father but also Dany’s brother, Jon’s brother who is actually his cousin, Jon’s best friend and also family member to the victims of Dany’s latest dracarys incident and lastly Dany’s closest adviser and also ex-husband to Jon’s sister/cousin/the current possessor of a “part of him”. This is Days of our Lives gone terribly, terribly wrong.

I don’t think I have to explain why this is romantic plot suicide. A sex scene between a romantic couple is supposed to be intimate, tender, sometimes steamy. It not supposed to be the smallest part of an elaborate montage designed to tell us that the people currently engaged in the devil’s mambo number 5, are actually related as well as de facto rivals for the Iron Throne.

A lot of people have commented on the inherent issues with the set-up of this scene, from the lack of a first kiss (an absolutely crucial part of any romantic pairing), to the lack of conversation before or after , to the horrible transition from a dying, blood soaked Lyanna to Jon and Dany in the midst of physical abandon and up to Jon’s strange expression:

Jon: I don’t think Tinder is working out for me.

What I would like to do instead is show you a scene that has quite a similar setup to this: it starts off in a bed and also includes the dreaded body flip. This is incidentally one of my favorite sex scenes. I am, of course, talking about the sex scene between Achillies and Brisies in 2004’s Troy. When I uploaded this the first time, @lostlittlesatellites mentioned in the comments section that this film was actually written by David Benioff, which I had forgotten. So not only did the D reuse this set-up for the Jon/Dany scene but actually is well aware of the salient differences between the two scenes, since, you know, he was involved in writing both of them. Another nail in the “Ds suck at their job which is why they couldn’t write a better romance” coffin, I guess.

I would love to put this scene up here in all its glory. However, since Tumblr is a prude that can’t handle the gorgeous physique of one Brad Pitt, I can’t. Just type Achillies and Brisies into youtube because it’s a more liberated platform, incidentally with far fewer Nazis lurking around. Also here is a pic of Brad’s gorgeous abs. Tumblr, eat your heart out!

The body flip:

The body flip in the Brisies/Achilles is counterbalanced by the knife. These kinds of flips are awkward when filmed in a wide shot but the fact that she’s holding a sharp object to Achilles’ throat moves our focus towards the character’s faces and not the awkward body movement.

Focus on details:

When you watch this scene, you’ll notice that a large portion of it is Achilles pulling up her dress and slipping his hand underneath the material. That becomes a very intimate movement that, in turn, creates expectation … And expectation creates interest. It has a much slower build-up than what we get with Jon/Dany and it’s that prolonged moment that makes it sexier.

It tells a story:

This is very important. Words in scenes aren’t there just to make the writer feel important. They set the tone, the level of intensity and make the audience feel like they’re a part of it, instead of being kept at arm’s length because they don’t have access to the character’s thoughts.

The Troy sex scene is a whole story in itself: We start with Brisies trying to kill Achilles but hesitating. We have Achilles admitting he will kill more men and daring her to go through with her plan. We have him flipping her and then tentatively kiss her as she finally gives up and drops the knife to the floor. This is an intimate, character driven scene that marks the transition of these two from enemies to lovers.

That’s not to say that Jon and Dany’s scene isn’t telling a story. The difference is that the story it tells is plot driven, not character driven. What makes their scene inherently interesting are the revelations we receive about Jon and how that will affect the plot moving forward. In that sense they become secondary characters in their own sex scene, just gilded cogs in a much larger plot wheel and far from breaking it, their sex scene is advancing it. To what end, I guess we’ll find out in season 8.

And that’s it, you guys! Hope you enjoyed this series. I do have a few ideas on what to write next but if there’s something in particular you’d like me to cover, let me know.

In case you haven’t read the other 3 parts of the series, you can find them linked below:

Part 1: Are D&D really idiots?

Part 2: Repetition and generalization are the death of romance

Part 3: When everyone and their mother has a different take on the same line of text

Part 4: More than 2 is a crowd

PS: none of the artwork in this meta belongs to me. Except for b0atbang which is the only piece of art worth mentioning anyway and which shall be hanging in a museum near you very, very soon.

#asoiaf #got meta #got s7 #anti-jonerys #my got meta

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elsaclack · 6 years ago

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HELLO the general consensus is that a masterpost would be Good so!! here i am!! masterposting!! this is split by fandom in reverse-chronological order (newest on top) but i will tell u i’m not even gonna TRY with the one-shot collections bc honestly i have. No Memory Whatsoever as to when i posted those in relation to the independent fics lmao. most are on ao3 only but i will include tumblr links where applicable!! and if you think of one i’ve written (or that you think i’ve written) that you don’t see on this list, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask about it!!

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE

kiss prompt #26

2. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

AO3

kiss prompt #25

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

AO3

kiss prompt #24

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

[PLATONIC]

AO3

kiss prompt #23

10. staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

AO3

kiss prompt #22

12. a hoarse whisper "kiss me"

AO3

kiss prompt #21

18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

AO3

kiss prompt #20

19. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing

AO3

kiss prompt #19

15. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

AO3

kiss prompt #18

8. being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward

AO3

kiss prompt #17

11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

AO3

kiss prompt #16

16. when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead

AO3

you’re a king, and i’m a lionheart

“What about...what about Jacob?” An overwhelming sense of rightness settles light as air over Roger’s shoulders as he turns the name over in his mind. Jacob. Prince Jacob. Prince Jacob of the House of Peralta, Duke of Southport. “Jacob,” he murmurs, and he could swear his son smiles. The sun breaks low on the horizon the morning of Prince Jacob’s birth - and far, far away, across a vast forest and a roiling sea beyond it, a lurking Duchess begins to plot.

"In which Jake is the prince notorious for running head-first into danger and Amy is the main guard in charge of keeping him alive."

AO3

and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

He can’t remember exactly how old he was when Halley’s Comet blazed through the sky, but he was old enough to at least understand that what he saw was, for most people, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. He remembers the blinding missile-like blur of pure light that streaked across the inky black sky, the feathery trails of starlight that followed along behind her as she tore through the galaxy, the way she flickered and winked as she disappeared beyond the horizon.

And he remembers his mother telling him, in a voice he recognized even then to be warbling with reverence and emotion, how lucky he is to be among those lucky few who will get to witness Halley’s blazing trail twice in one lifetime.

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #3

“sometimes in the dead of night when you think you can’t make it, you might find i left a light beside the bed for you, ‘cause i’ve been there, too”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #2

“That drink you spilt all over me, lovers spit left on repeat, my mom and dad let me stay home, it feels so scary getting old”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #1

“I’ve already packed my promises, they’re waiting by the door”

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #3

inside jokes

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #2

unmitigated joy

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #1

grandma’s kisses

AO3

now that the weight has lifted, love has surely shifted my way

“Y’know what? Just - just go ahead. Ruin it. I don’t care. It’s just a dumb ceremony anyways. I love Jake, and I know he loves me, and - and we don’t have to have some big fancy ceremony to prove it. I’m going to marry him,” she says slowly, firmly, “and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

AO3

untitled prompt #25

"Okay so what about a fic based on pregnant amy santiago wearing a bathrobe?"

AO3

i’m on the edge of a broken heart

Amy Santiago is a vision of beauty.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly winded by the mere sight of her. He falls back to his heels, lets his hands fall down to his sides, and watches as she slowly paces toward him. “I was just…I thought I might…clean.”

Aside from reaching to toss her shirt and purse across the chaise to his right, she remains very still. “You never clean.” she finally says after a long stretch of silence.

There is no inquisitiveness to her tone. There is no confusion in her face. It’s a statement of fact, yes, but the complete lack of emotion in her entire demeanor is a clear and flashing neon sign pointing to the calm before the storm.

AO3

je vais t’attendre là

On the morning of April 28th, Jake Peralta wakes to the smell of pancakes burning on the griddle.

He can tell when he rolls just slightly on his side that the blankets have been pulled up and neatly tucked in over the other half of the mattress, but even that slight change in angle brings him in contact with a part of the mattress still warm from Amy’s sleeping body. His shirt is also still warm where it’s stretched across his shoulders - there’s even a spot on the back of his neck that is cooler than the rest, probably leftover from the kiss she pressed there before she rolled out of bed.

He smiles as he rubs his fingertips over the spot. How she managed to burn breakfast in what is likely just a matter of minutes is entirely beyond him.

AO3

that i need you because it’s so hard to be who i am

But then it’s 7:30 and the last of her belongings are finally unloaded and carefully placed in and on her new desk and she’s straightening up the last picture of the two of them from the night they got engaged right beside her brand new computer monitor while she talks about what they should order for dinner (she’s been dealing with a hankering for good Chinese food ever since Vin mentioned the authentic Chinese cuisine he ate the last time he was in Tianjin and Jake is definitely not still vaguely jealous of the general lifestyle Vin leads) and Jake’s stomach is hollow, hollow, hollow.

That’s what makes the rumbling so loud, he thinks.

AO3

you look happy to me

The ball is several hours underway by the time Amy manages to track her children down again - out on the terrace of all places. The doors are propped open to welcome the balmy summer breeze rippling through the curtains (the ones that miraculously survived the dress incident of a few weeks ago), and though the sounds of her guests in fellowship around her and the gentle sounds of the string quartet in the corner command most of her auditory attention, the boisterous male laughter she’s grown all-too-familiar with rings clear and true above the rest.

Of course her children are with Jake.

(She wonders if the day she trusts her nanny to properly watch her children will ever come.)

AO3

you clicked your heels and wished for me

She’s not sure if it’s instinct or her skills as an amazing detective-slash-genius, but Amy knows from the moment she steps into their apartment that something is off.

AO3

untitled one-shot #7

She’s got that look on her face again - the one that makes his heart feel like it’s fluttering in his chest - and when she reaches across the center console to touch his forearm, her hand is warm from the coffee. “Jake,” she murmurs, and his face is burning. “You’re -” she stops and shakes her head, and then starts again. “You are literally the sweetest, most kind and thoughtful and attentive person I’ve ever met.”

He covers her hand with his own and tilts his head to the side, until it’s leaning against the headrest.

AO3

untitled prompt #24

you ever think about what would have happened if it was amy and rosa who worked with hawkins, rather than rosa and jake?

AO3

untitled one-shot #6

The morning of June 15th begins suddenly with a low voice in her ear.

“Amelia Maria Santiago-Peralta,” the voice is quiet, but it rumbles with delight. And even though she groans instinctively at her abrupt return to consciousness, she can’t help but to smile when his lips brush against her ear. “Do you know what today is?”

“Mmm,” she turns her head to bury her face in her pillow for one more moment, before rolling over to her back. When her eyes flutter open she finds him leaning over her, propped up on his elbow, grinning far too brightly for six o’clock in the morning. “It’s Friday,” she mumbles, “and my middle name’s not Maria.”

AO3

let ‘em wonder how we got this far

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much.

AO3

i’ll always do my best to make you see

The merry misadventures of Morrissey and Schmidt

one | two | three | four | five | six

they say that dreaming is free, but i wouldn’t care what it cost me

This is not a dream. It may look like one, what with all the fairy lights and the flashing red-and-blue strobe lights and that inexplicable feeling of weightlessness originating from somewhere down in his bones, but it’s real. It’s really happening. Amy Santiago is walking down the aisle, in a white dress, with flowers in her hands and a smile on her face and enough love to eradicate the concept of hate in her eyes, and it’s real. She’s walking down the aisle, toward the podium, where she’s going to get married. To him, Jake Peralta. This is not a dream.

AO3

you’ll always be the only one

"since im such an evil person, i just imagined... what would’ve happened if they didnt find out about the bomb...?"

AO3

you held your course to some distant war in the corners of your mind

The vast majority of his view through the rear view mirror is blocked by Amy’s head, raised a bit higher than usual thanks in large part to the hump that makes up the middle seat. He’s certain that’s going to present a problem once they’re on the road and moving, but he’s rather grateful for her presence in his line of vision at the moment. She’s not looking at him, but rather, at the tiny human bundled up like a baby burrito in the car seat to her left. She’s got a big goofy grin on her face and her brows keep rising and falling with each changing expression. A smile - probably the billionth in the last two days - blossoms across his face as he watches her make silly faces at their literally-hours-old daughter.

Brand new car, brander newer daughter.

AO3

build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung

In truth, when Jake made the decision to answer Charles’ incoming phone call an hour earlier, he hand’t really expected much. Maybe a live update of something cute Nikolaj was doing, maybe commentary on whatever inedible animal part he was forcing himself to eat at the time, maybe another Cats-related pun. He expected something ordinary.

au where jake and amy find out they're expecting the same way cece and schmidt do on new girl

AO3

kiss prompt #15

First kisses: Hesitant and nervous. Lips hover inches from each other for a few seconds before they just barely brush. It’s just a soft press, but it ignites their entire bodies. Pinkies link afterwards, still wanting to be close, and each looks down, smiling softly.

AO3

kiss prompt #14

Angry kisses: Hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving each other against walls. Fingers digging into hips. But the kisses always melt away from that. They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, until they’re out of energy and are left just standing there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

AO3

kiss prompt #13

Heated kisses: Breath huffing into mouths, angrily or passionately. Hands grabbing at clothing and pulling each other closer.

AO3

kiss prompt #12

“I thought I lost you” kisses: The breath is knocked out of both of them with the force that they collide with. Hands grip the back of t-shirts and palms are pressed up and under shirts, holding them close, feeling the warmth of their skin. Palms are pressed to cheeks, thumbs swiping away tears until their mouths collide messily, the world seeming to disappear around them.

[VERSON 2]

AO3

kiss prompt #11

After sex kisses: Lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving. Soft murmurs about what to do for dinner later, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns. B rolling onto their back and A trailing their lips down their neck, kissing their shoulder, their chest, anywhere they can think of, memorizing B.

AO3

kiss prompt #10

“We can’t do this” kisses: Fists clenched, hands shoved into pockets. Brows low or brought together, jaws clenched. A feeling like a magnetic pull between them. Their foreheads press together, their lips brush, just barely, until B pulls away with a shaking exhale, forehead dropping into A’s neck.

AO3

kiss prompt #9

“You look beautiful” kisses: Just a soft press of lips to the temple, resting them there for a moment, then smiling down and telling them as much.

AO3

kiss prompt #8

Breathless kisses: A series of short pecks because they need the closeness but they also need air, so. Sometimes smiles come in between, or sometimes its just breath, gasping for the sole purpose of being able to kiss again.

[tw: description of near-drowning and mentions of stomach pumping (y’know standard breathless kiss prompt stuff)]

AO3

kiss prompt #7

In the dark kisses: The movie plays in the background, but A and B are hardly paying attention from the back row. They kiss soundlessly, long and soft, fingers locked. A’s arm is thrown behind B’s seat, wrist bent to curl their fingers into B’s hair.

AO3

kiss prompt #6

Hello kisses: After long periods apart, these can include A picking up B and spinning them around. Fingers pressing into cheeks, palms cupping necks, and breathless laughs when they finally come up for air.

AO3

kiss prompt #5

AO3

kiss prompt #4

Comforting kisses: B walks into find A sitting on the bed, shoulders shaking, cheeks wet. A looks up, face looking stricken for a moment. B is shocked, and quietly says A’s name. At this, A breaks, face crumpling, and only barely has time to reach both hands out for B before B is there, kneeling at A’s feet. B takes A’s hands first, kissing their knuckles and palms. Then B reaches up to hold A’s face, pressing soft kisses around their cheeks, their lips, murmuring “it’s okay” and “you’re alright” and “I’m here” in between.

AO3

kiss prompt #3

“Come to bed” kisses: A has their hands on B’s neck, murmuring the phrase softly. A’s hands slide down B’s arms to their hands, lacing their fingers together and slowly starting to pull B towards their bedroom. A continues to pepper B with kisses all the while, trailing them down their jaw and neck.

AO3

kiss prompt #2

“I missed you” kisses: Long and relentless, holding their body close, arms wrapped completely around their waist. A burying their head in B’s neck and pressing kisses there too.

AO3

kiss prompt #1

“I’ll be right back” kisses: A puts their hands on B’s shoulders from behind them, where they are sat on the couch. A leans down and around, while B turns their head a little, accepting the quick peck.

AO3

on my heart like a tattoo

Amy’s a month old, too young to remember anything, and he shows up on her skin for the very first time in the form of an explosion of color.

AO3

don’t read the last page

There’s dry candle wax on the floor by the window and glitter stuck to the soles of her feet; somewhere down in the lobby their friend is carrying her shoes out into a blizzard, the fruits of her expensive Polaroid camera lying forgotten on the rug. Outside the world is muted and painted white with snow, the pain and misery and heartache of the year behind them left at the 11:59 threshold the night before. They faded to nothing at the stroke of midnight, at the heart-stopping meld of their lips, at his hooded smile to the sounds of their friends celebrating all around them, at the way his whispered we’re getting married this yearwas nearly lost in the commotion. Not quite the blank slate of it’s predecessors - but so much better.

The music ends and they keep swaying, clinging, too stubborn to let go. Their apartment is a wreck of discarded Solo cups and empty bottles and dirty dishes but he is warm and soft and he smells so good; eyes squeezed shut, fingers tangled in his shirt, to the beat of her heart her mind chants forever.

AO3

untitled one-shot #5

Amy’s back is toward him but he can see her arm moving in a slow rhythm - probably drawing patterns in the small shag rug at the foot of their bed - and aside from the slight turn of her head, she doesn’t acknowledge his arrival. The apartment is warm, a welcome reprieve to the bitter cold bartering for entrance at their windows, and even though he can see the snow falling thick and swirling in the space between their curtains he can feel the warmth trickling down his fingers and toes.

“Hey,” he says, voice almost boisterous in the comfortable silence swaddling them both. She turns toward him a little more, peering at him through her lashes - and now he can see the pinkness around her nose has spread over her cheeks and darkened to an angrier color, the used, crumpled tissues like confetti on the floor over the top of her head. “Why’re you on the floor?”

AO3

come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

The worn soles of her Ugg boots scuff along the dingy carpet beneath their feet, and her scarf - now draped over one shoulder - drags along the ground behind her. Her mittens, over-stuffed puffy coat, matching ski pants, and thick wool beanie complete the look; he’s honestly never seen her look more Randy from A Christmas Story than she does in this moment.

It is without question the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

AO3

if you want me to stay, i will stay by your side

For someone whose job requires an unusually large amount of personal risk on a near daily basis, Amy Santiago has not dedicated much time considering how she might one day die. The vague assumption that it will probably happen on the job - via stray bullets or careening cars or massive explosions - has been enough to satisfy any musing.

She never imagined doctor's visits or specialist consultations or diagnoses. She never imagined hospital gowns and thinning hair and chemotherapy.

And she never, ever imagined cancer.

AO3

in these dark ad quiet hours

There are unanswered texts on both of their phones, lunch invitations waiting to be received, inquiries about dinner plans or post-work drinks demanding responses; there are fresh boxes of his favorite cereal and his preferred brand of hot chocolate in the kitchen cabinets waiting to be poured. Life, their life, ebbs and flows along the perimeter of their mattress. But they ignore it for now, for just a few more minutes of this. For just a few more minutes of them.

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untitled prompt #23

SO..UH...IS IT TIME FOR YOU TO BLESS US WITH ANOTHER DOMESTIC PERALTIAGO FIC???? (pleaseeeeeeeee)

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survival will not be the hardest part

Of course, it’s not a normal Wednesday. Because on this particular Wednesday, Amy’s functioning on two hours of sleep and approximately five and a half cups of coffee. On this particular Wednesday, she’s simultaneously starving and nauseous, having gotten so caught up in this murder case she’s been working with Rosa that she simply hasn’t had the time to eat. She’s exhausted and clammy and probably just about on the verge of succumbing to the flu she knows has been going around the beat cops downstairs.

She’s also exactly one month out from her wedding day.

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even if the skies get rough

It’s sixty-five degrees in the waiting room of Jericho Supermax Prison and Jake Peralta is absolutely disintegrating in her arms.

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the stakes are high, the water’s rough, but this love is ours

This has her eyes splitting open and her brow furrowing at once. Jake may have only been acquitted and released from prison three days ago but already she’s readjusted to sharing the bed again; to find it empty is to choke down a small, skittish wave of panic. The mattress is still warm, after all - he was in bed recently. And now that her senses are starting to fire on all cylinders, she’s absorbing the heavy scent of coffee and bacon in the air and the sounds of Taylor Swift playing quietly nearby.

And then she hears his voice - quiet, but still cracking as he tries to sing along with a high note.

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untitled prompt #22

What if like in the fanfics, amy actually did get engaged to teddy during jake's undercover op?? and the boy comes back actually finding amy's Wedding binder on her desk and jake's like What The Fuck! !!!??!? and emo while simultaneously trying to be supportive bc this is an exciting thing for amy nd he doesnt want to be the one to ruin it. Imagine jake not showing up at the wedding bc he rlly wouldnt be able to take it only to find amy clad in her wedding dress in his doorstep a few hours later

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untitled prompt #21

Do you think amy dies a little inside everytime she catches jake looking at her with the Soft look? like she's definitely seen it and she's probably teased him about it at some point but home girl probably loves it so! much! and she loves him so much and HE loves her so much too! she knows that with her whole being but it catches her offguard sometimes bc this sunshine boy really loves her to bits and he's so good to her and he makes her so so so happy and amy needs to lie down

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untitled one-shot #4

It’s the solid landing of a tiny hand against his cheek, quickly followed by a quiet gasp and a muffled giggle, that rouses Jake from sleep.

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untitled prompt #20

it's canon that jake makes mixtapes so what if he has a box of them labeled with the day they were made and what if amy finds that stash while jake is absent for some reason (based on ur need for Angst™, this reason is up for interpretation) and spends a day going through them, laughing at her nerd bf & his mixtapes ranging from tswift to conner4real to toni braxton until she finds one labeled with the date that he went undercover. again, based on the angst need, this can go so many ways

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untitled prompt #19

How cute would Amy's first Mother's Day be...

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untitled prompt #18

Imagine Jake taking Amy to dinner after her exam to celebrate, and at the restaurant he keeps telling people at nearby tables that his girlfriend just became a sergeant, because he's just so proud and wants to brag about her. And Amy pretends to be exasperated but she can't hold back a smile

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untitled prompt #17

This is the first time in three weeks she’s allowed herself to exist within the walls once stretched to capacity with love, with laughter, with the occasional healthy bouts of exasperation. And really, honestly, she hadn’t intended to snoop. She was just searching for a certain hoodie - one she lived in for months at a time a year ago when this Jake-shaped hole was first blown through her chest - and in the process of looking through old boxes stacked at the back of the hall closet that never really got around to being unpacked, she’d found a binder.

A binder with her father’s name in Garamond typeface emblazoned across the front cover.

(She can’t help but instinctively wrinkle her nose - she would have chosen Tahoma.)

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untitled prompt #16

Hey there! I got an idea for Peraltiago (bc i am trash) One of them gets EXTREMELY wasted and forgets that they're actually dating the other so they start shamelessly flirting with them. The other just plays along. I feel like this would fit Amy cause of "The Santiago Drunkenness Scale" but I'd love to see (in this case, read) a drunk and goofy Jake fall in love all over again. But you decide which is best! P.S I really love your work! ^_^

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untitled prompt #15

Amy has to go in for some kind of procedure, very low key, everything's kosher. However, since she's gonna be out of it for a few hours, Jake has to take care of her.

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untitled prompt #14

Plz write a fluffy fic about when Amy and the ladies + Charles get hammered for rosas bachelorette party Amy either talks to them about Jake or comes home to Jake and is adorable and lovey

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untitled one-shot #3

The first thing Jake does after the bailiff announces the not-guilty verdict is high-five his lawyer. The second thing he does is high-five Rosa.

The third, and perhaps most dramatic thing he does, is turn around, vault the low wall separating the audience from the rest of the courtroom, and kiss Amy.

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untitled prompt #13

Can you write something where jake and Amy go to hook up in the evidence locker or closet or something and end up getting stuck and Amy is like !!!well shit!!! Cause she's claustrophobic

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you did this to him

"So Jake's doing the right thing instead of the selfish thing?"

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untitled prompt #12

could you please write what was going through jake's and amy's minds when figgus had jake at gun point??

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untitled one-shot #2

“Jake,” Amy’s voice is low and soothing as she pulls the car smoothly to the side of the road. Jake grunts, too busy flipping through his notecards to verbalize a response. “Jake, babe, please relax. It’s okay. There are seven of them. I can’t even remember all of their names.”

“That is the biggest lie you’ve ever told me in your entire life, and that includes the time you tried to tell me McGinley asked you to clean out the fridge in the breakroom.”

“Oh my God, it’s been seven years, are you ever gonna let that go?”

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untitled prompt #11

Amy and jake laughing and/or discussing teddy proposing to her

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untitled prompt #10

I can't stop wondering about the scar on Jake's back that he got by banging into Amy's kitchen cabinet. How did it happen? Were they making out? Was he cooking and something fell to the ground? What did Jakey do this time? ... Think of this as a prompt if you need/want one.

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untitled prompt #9

If you're not too busy with prompts, Jake x Amy and the phrase "you fight like a married couple". Thank you :)

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untitled prompt #8

can you write an angsty fic about jake reacting to an old friend dying and amy trying to comfort him??

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when you press me to your heart, i’m in a world apart

“Do you ever think about all the time we lost?”

Jake asks the question quietly, half-mumbled against her neck. The tone of his voice is the same as it has been for the last hour they’ve spent laying in her bed - light, carefree, relaxed. His fingers trace lightly over her side, having edged beneath the hem of her t-shirt twenty minutes ago to trace circles and hearts and swirls over her ribs; all-in-all, far away enough that he probably doesn’t notice the fact that her heart has just skipped a beat.

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watching through my fingers

Eyes closed, one swollen, a violet bruise that gives way in places to greener colors marking the shape of the fist that put it there, slanted down from just above her brow to her cheekbone. Beautiful and painful, like a sunset that rips his heart out of his body. Her eyelids are delicate and thin, so so breakable, hiding those warm brown eyes from smiling up at him and assuring him that everything is okay. It’s all okay. She’s okay.

He is not okay.

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don’t be fools, thinking this is the last you’ll find

Jake gets nervous for the second time on their first official date when they make it back to Amy’s apartment. More specifically, when they’re standing just outside of the entrance to her apartment. When her hair, so light and wavy and tantalizing, is moving just slightly in the late-night breeze and her eyes are bright from both the alcohol and the laughter that filled the long stretch of time after that alcohol; his whole entire chest is suddenly seized with nerves. He hasn’t been this close to her since the copy room at work earlier, just one hour after their evidence lock-up kiss. He swallows thickly and her eyes flick down at the movement.

His dart down to her lips. He’s just a beat too late coming back up to her eyes.

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untitled prompt #7

I need a scene where Jake is sad so to cheer him up Amy gives him a picture of her and Charles from when they wore the same outfit while Jake was undercover

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untitled prompt #6

I really need to dump 'Jake gets framed for murder/some other crime and has to spend some time in prison, while the team fights to clear his name and get him out' on someone, Peraltiago of course, and may be Doug Judy is looking after Jake in prison. ??? IDK

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untitled prompt #5

Do you think you could write a fic where jake and Amy get into a big fight and go back to their own places but they're both super sad about it and make it up to each other in the morning?

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romeo, save me, they’re trying to tell me how to feel

B99 Au idea where Amy never worked in the 9-9 and instead has been groomed by Madeline Wuntch her entire professional career as her protégé, leading to a Romeo-and-Julietesque romance and rivalry between Ray Holt’s own protégé, causing them to have to hide their relationship once they have their asses in gear - Tumblr user stardustsantiago

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and the bells are ringing out

Jake Peralta is sitting in the interrogation room.

It’s strange, Amy thinks as she watches him through the glass. They’ve probably been in this same position at least three dozen times before - her on this side, him on that one - but never once has she been quite this anxious. Never once has he seemed quite so frail.

Never once has he tended to his own minor wounds, or held his own ice pack to his bruised and swollen eye, or watched the door with as much quiet intensity.

Never once has he been a victim.

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we watched the sun set over the castle on the hill

It’s not constant, but it’s enough - it strikes a chord deep within her, reverberating back through the years and vibrating in her very bones, each instance blazing in her memory like a makeshift patchwork quilt spanning back over a decade to that first lonely stakeout in their prologue.

A series of snapshots of Jake Peralta's pursuit of happiness.

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you can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain

Once upon a time, there was a knight in shining pantsuit armor who rescued a fair prince from an evil hawk's detention center...

Or, Amy has never been one to lie down at the face of injustice; this is especially true when the one facing injustice happens to be the love of her life.

Post s4 finale fic, in 4 movements.

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should i suffocate or let go

Amy's not sure, really, when her life became so tragic.

She’s not a tragic person. She’s never known sorrow in an intimate way, never really felt her bones turn cold with it. Organization keeps the demons at bay; she knows this as surely as she knows her own name.

Enter: Jake Peralta.

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all my seconds, minutes, lifetimes for you and only you

“You had me worried for a minute, there,” he tells her quietly while she lavishes attention on the faded freckles along his shoulders.

(It’s code: you could have just talked to me.)

She pauses, long eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones, before tilting her head back up to peer at him. “I knew you’d find me eventually,” she says off-handedly. “I just - I freaked myself out.”

(It’s also code: you and I both know I would only have freaked out more.)

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hold on to hope if you’ve got it

He wonders, distantly, what the soul mate science says about situations like this. He wonders as the cool backside of Amy’s hand presses against his forehead; he wonders as he loses touch completely with reality, as his mind comes unhinged and tears spewing down his face spread at an alarming rate across the mattress beneath his violently tilted head.

Who's he supposed to turn to when she can’t be there for him?

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i think i’m tired of getting over it

She’s not sure about the how or the when or the why, but on one warm afternoon in May, Gina is faced with the realization that one Rosa Diaz has become an undeniable cornerstone in her life. Gina almost hates herself for allowing this to happen, for allowing this one person to become so intimately entangled in the life she’s built for herself that the moment that person disappears from it, everything comes crashing down again. Her eyes are open and she can still see colors and feel textures and the world is still real and spinning, except her mind has dropped off back into that void and there is nothing there to pull her out, there is no one, nothing, gone gone gone -

“Gina?” Gina blinks, and Amy Santiago’s face comes fading into view.

[a s4 finale prediction]

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just let the pain remind you hearts can heal

He’s been walking a fine line recently. She’s been out of the hospital for less than a week, and while she’s been incredibly diligent about following all of the instructions the doctor gave her about medicine and physical therapy, she’s been all but belligerent about the bed rest side of things. It’s hard to tell her no, and not just because one pleading look would be enough to convince Jake to commit arson for her; Amy Santiago can be quite intimidating when she wants to be.

(Part of him wonders just how much that terrifying look hardened while she was undercover. Part of him never ever wants to know.)

[set in the sleepwalking universe]

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the well-worn pages of my favorite book

"How dare you tempt me with a small bookstore!"

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untitled prompt #4

omg idk if this has been done yet, but imagine an au with jake and amy where amy is an artist and jake is a photographer or something and they're each others muses like o m g

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untitled prompt #3

um hi love your writing BUCKETS - prompt for after tonight's ep, jake goes home and accidentally lets it slip that he wants to have kids at some point (a la mentioning he kissed holt - totally unintentional, slips out by mentioning charles in convo with amy, potentially??)

AND

Prompt! The night of Captain Latvia, Jake talks to Amy about his thoughts on what Boyle said about Jake never becoming a dad.

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untitled prompt #2

Prompt idea: get this... jake amy in highschool .. prom is coming up.. amy cant go something comes up.. jake is super excited but .. instead stays with amy at her house playing board games in pjs

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untitled prompt #1

do you have any headcanons for jake and amy on valentine's day? an idea of mine is that they're both working late and so they can't go out for dinner or anything and thus jake feels bad and buys amy all the tacky valentine's gifts he can find within a mile radius of the precinct

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untitled one-shot #1

Amy can tell something’s off the moment she steps off the elevator.

To the naked eye, everything about the bullpen appears to be perfectly normal. There are three perps sitting in holding, and Charles is bickering with Scully over the coffee pot in the break room. Gina’s engrossed in whatever is illuminating her face on her computer screen, Rosa’s scribbling something in the margin of what appears to be official paperwork, and Holt’s office door is closed. She can see Terry’s back through the open blinds - the two appear to be deep in conversation.

The only one missing is Jake - which is why she’s immediately suspicious.

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baby, you were my picket fence

Amy snatches it and takes a long pull, screwing her eyes shut against the bitter taste, but even as she coughs and splutters as she lowers the bottle again Rosa finds that she just can’t make fun of her. “Good? Or do I need to order another bottle?”

“Another,” says Amy, and then, “he’s gone.”

Rosa stiffens, gaze lifting to scan over the crowd around them. “Who?” She asks quietly when she can’t spot the threat.

“Jake.”

She deflates. “Yeah, he left, like, three hours ago -”

“Not three hours ago, ten minutes ago. And he - he stopped me in the parking lot, as I was on my way out.” She swallows again, thickly this time, and Rosa clenches her jaw. “He confessed - he told me that he likes me.”

For a split-second, Rosa has to fight the craziest urge to laugh. It’s all so juvenile - a boy confessed he liked her and she’s immediately distraught, how utterly cliche - before the implications of it all belatedly hit her. “Oh.”

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this girl right here’s gonna rule the world

Could you write something where Rosa encourages Gina to think about becoming a cop/something post coral palms pt3??? Xoxoxo - ANONYMOUS

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don’t let our hearts freeze

I see a lot of Jake helping Amy with panick attacks but not much of the opposite and you write intimate moments between them so well, so would you write the first time Jake feels safe enough with Amy to call her when he gets a panick attack (establish relationship) ? - FUCKINGDAMNITDEAN

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just say you won’t let go

Hey there, I love your writing, so if you're ever up to, could you write Rosa and Charles watching the surveillance tapes from the evidence lock up in episode 03x01? I just think it would be so funny to actually see (in this case read) Charles watching Jake and Amy killing a guy with their kiss, and Rosa telling him to chill (while secretly smiling to herself). - ANONYMOUS

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my life before was tragic

Prompt! After Jake and Amy start dating, Jake finds the ring from The Bet in Amy's desk and asks her why she went back to get it. - ANONYMOUS

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stuck in second gear

HAS ANYONE WRITTEN A JAKE AND AMY PROPOSAL THAT HAPPENS JUST LIKE MONICA AND CHANDLER’S PROPOSAL - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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the roads ahead are paved with good intentions

i just remembered this and i think it’s really interesting that amy told teddy both times jake told her he liked her, before and after he went undercover - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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heaven and earth have finally aligned

ANONYMOUS: so do you have any headcanons regarding the Jake and Amy stills from the wedding? (I.e. write a short fic based on the pictures of them)

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i’ll be there for you

Hey, do you know an episode of friends where Monica and Chandler are secretly dating and he accidentally kisses her in front of Phoebe and Rachel? Can you write that Peraltiago-stylez? Please please pleeeaase?

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i'm still waiting patiently

i am ONLY asking bc i'm a self destructive mess rn but if ur in an angst writing mood could u write something where like jake has to cheat on amy while he's in florida???? idk????? i love angst

[PLEASE NOTE: i didn't write this exact prompt]

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something like that

i don't know if you're taking prompts but could you do Jake and Amy's first kiss like Nick and Jess. AUish. Idk. THANK YOU FOR EXISTING

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when i’m wiser and i’m older

Jake has six months worth of missed cuddling with one Amy Santiago, and he does not intend to waste any time in catching up - pain killers and airplanes be damned.

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just like a movie, just like a song

Amy Santiago does not break rules.

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where the numb meets the lonely

Anonymous said: Okay so I was just thinking about the fact that Jake and Amy's one-year anniversary probably occurred while Jake has been in Florida- do you think Jake had like a fake anniversary celebration with Amy's selfie? Also thinking about Jake and Amy not getting to be together for their anniversary makes me sad.

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and as our eyes start to close

He’s gone thirty-some-odd years without mourning his lack of a broad English vernacular, but that all changes the first time he sets foot into his new apartment after living in Florida for six months.

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you're not alone, 'cause you're here with me

Pertaigo oneshot where Amy has a really really bad panic attack? It can be at the prescient can be there to - ANONYMOUS

Can you please write Amy having a sever anxiety attack? - ANONYMOUS

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and you’re the sky

JAKE AND AMY MEET THE EXACT SAME WAY JANE AND MICHAEL DO AU (an unassuming beat cop shows up to her epic twenty first birthday door and gets mistaken for a stripper) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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how can i be an optimist about this?

ok for a jake/amy prompt how about their first fight as a married couple? can be as simple or as angsty as you please! - ANONYMOUS

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i promise that you'll never be lonely

Hi this is the same anon with the moving in together prompt so i have two and I'm not sure if these are more one-shotty or if you've done these before but 1)jake and/or amy's inner thoughts during johnny and dora 2) amy calling her mom to tell her about jake and her answering all of those *annoying* mom questions also are you on ff. net and or ao3? sorry you've probably posted about it before but I just started following so i don't know - ANONYMOUS

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and i see colors in a different way

as payback for the dress she wore and having to dance with scully in the bet amy plans a bad date to take jake on even though she doesnt expect to use it and later (while dating jake?) finds her notes while going through and cleaning out some old binders/notebooks - ANONYMOUS

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why don't you sit right down and stay awhile?

Prompt! Jake finds out Amy has never seen diehard and takes her to see it immediately - TARDIISBLUE

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to make up for the times i've been cheated on

u heathen okAY OKAY imma be Terrible and say Jake gets shot protecting Captain Holt and Amy and Rosa react ;;;;)))))))))))))) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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got that good song in my feet

prompt! six drink amy around jake in established relationship (i.e she's no longer lonely,, she's more clingy and emotional?? idk) :))) - FOURDRINKAMY

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i'd pay to see you smile

I've seen AU oneshots where Amy arrests civilian!Jake, but what about one where he arrests her--maybe a bit of a Doug Judy S2 ep type situation where she's flirting with him and he's into it but then catches himself? - GRYFFINDORSWEATER

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six days

Watching the speech scene in The Funeral where Jake is so adamantly willing to get demoted and Ames is trying to convince him that it’s his dream job and he shouldn’t let it go that easily and then he tells her ‘Amy…this good’

Like. I know they were both already way too deep once they started it, but?? I really?? Need someone to write a fic centering around Jake’s PoV during those six days? What was he thinking while he and Amy did Normal Couple Things? Did he constantly get streams of thoughts that revolved around how this is a reality that he’s alive and he’s not dreaming and how amazing this whole thing is that he can openly give her the Looks and hold her hand and snuggle with her and he can openly show her affection because they’re dating now?? I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE A FIC PLS

- Tumblr user tall-butt

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i’ve been sleepwalking too close to the fire

Amy goes undercover immediately following the events of Johnny and Dora. Jake and the others try to deal.

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the only proof that i need is you

"in which Amy makes a habit of ranting to the bartender (about her terrible day, her last awful date, the patriarchy), and Jake takes it upon himself to try to make her smile."

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and let your colors bleed and blend with mine

"in which Jake and Amy are New York’s Most Wanted… or so he thinks. Amy’s actually an undercover cop meant to take him down – except it’s a year into the assignment, her fake feelings for him are a bit too real, and she just can’t imagine turning over this big misunderstood softy to the feds."

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and ignore those big warning signs

“Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him. Please, Charles, I’ll hold them off for as long as I can, just - just go!”

The last words Amy Santiago speaks before waking up alone in a hospital room, handcuffed to her bed.

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i never knew daylight could be so violent

Charles likes to think of himself as the world's first post-apocalyptic gourmet chef.

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and we will put the lonesome on the shelf

They get married on a Saturday evening, and that morning, it rains.

Amy wakes to the gentle tap of steady rainfall knocking gently on the window just three inches back from the very top of her head. For a moment, she lays very still - her sleep-dried eyes blink lazily up at the all-too-familiar ceiling above her head, watching blankly as a dull muted light casts soft shadows that stretch from the window all the way to the ceiling fan in the center of the room. She inhales deeply, so deeply that she feels a faint pop between her shoulder blades, and her eyes flutter shut again.

Seconds later, the stillness of the morning is pierced by an all-too-familiar alarm, and when her eyes fly open, they fly open on the wings of a powerful surge of excitement and adrenaline.

She’s getting married today.

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and i’ll tell you all about it when i see you again

It's snowing by the time they make it home from Brooklyn Methodist Hospital.

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love you inside out

Amy cries the night Jake comes home from Florida.

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most nights, i don’t know anymore

A response to the following prompt:

It isn’t a fanfic unless Main Character has to tear their gaze away from the strip of skin revealed above Love Interest’s waistband when they casually stretch their arms above their head.

----

“It’s the way he looks when he talks about her. There’s just…I don’t know, I can’t explain it. There’s something in his eyes when he talks about her, or when he looks at a photo of her. He would never hurt her. It’s written all over his face.”

“Are you quoting two-thousand-nine Beyonce at me?”

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your arms wrapped around me and this moment

"How did you know they were the one?"

"I just...knew."

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you know that i am home

It’s the sum total of many moving parts that ends up landing him in such a position at such a late hour; the coalescing of several Unfortunate Incidences, of which he had little to no control over, that thrusts him into such a predicament. A series of bad omens, as Gina would later tell him with a knowing smile, that he just couldn’t avoid, because he’s a freight train careening out of control and this is the end of the tracks.

Or something - something like that. It’s hard to think straight at 3 o’clock in the morning.

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my head is an animal

Anonymous: But: Jake is a sleep cuddler. Amy found this out before they were dating. They were on a long stakeout together and it was her shift. Jake fell asleep next to her clung onto her like his life depended on it. She didnt have the heart to wake him. Also: Gina found it out at a sleepover when they were kids. She woke up to Jake almost squeezing her to death. She screamed and threw a pillow at his head. Jake was not amused. Gina never slept beside Jake again.

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i’m with your ghost again

"wait what if there’s a flashback during s4 of Jake and Holt leaving for Florida and it shows them saying goodbye to Amy and Kevin like I am not ready for that but it’s all I want" - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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i’m gonna be free and i’m gonna be fine

It all ends the same way it starts: with a phone call.

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i’m gonna make this place your home

It's 3 AM and Jake is trying to comfort his newborn daughter without waking his wife. Delirious rambling ensues.

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wake me up when it’s all over

A stolen moment between Jake and Amy in the days after he returns from Florida.

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i know places

Missing moment alluded to in the s3 finale:

"No one knows where I live." "I thought you had Amy over there once?" "Yeah, it was fun. I moved the next day."

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riptide

Request: Could you do a fanfiction where an old ex flirts with amy and makes her laugh and jake realises he’s wants to be the only one to make her laugh? JEALOUS JAKE IS THE BEST JAKE

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new york city, please go easy on me tonight

"There isn't a single person in the world I'd rather have on this case than you."

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rivers and roads

"Rivers and roads, rivers and roads, rivers 'til I reach you."

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thunder

Jake is thirty-five years old when he discovers a new breed of thunder.

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until the sweetest words remain

In her four-year stint as an art major, Amy learned a lot of different words to describe beauty. She studied brushstrokes that communicated immeasurable pain and triumph and hope and fear. She learned how one piece of art could capture a moment so intense she felt like she could feel the artist’s breath on her neck. She felt positive that she’d never meet anyone who could make her feel as much as Michelangelo could with just one facial expression.

Until she met Jake.

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of all the things my eyes have seen

Sometimes healing only comes one piece at a time. Sometimes it's so slow, it's painful. And sometimes it only happens when the people we love push us toward it. A stand-alone one shot that spins off from the events of Heliocentrism.

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heliocentrism

Prompt: Amy goes undercover for some time (months maybe??). Jake goes crazy because he misses her like hell and is worried about her. He is very sad. Then she comes back and they are very cute (lots of fluff please!!)

You only need the light when it's burning low, only miss the sun when it starts to snow, only know you love her when you let her go.

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THE GOOD PLACE

the song in my head was all that i had

He's Chidi Anagonye, and everything is fine.

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GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

were we the belly of the beast or the sword that fell

The expanse of inky blackness sprawled out before her seems peaceful in spite of Drax’s mind-numbing laughter booming through the Benatar, and though the sound of it grates against her ears even after all the time she’s spent in close quarters with him, she feels her lips twitching, fighting against a smile. He’s off somewhere in the bowels of the ship with Mantis, probably exploring whatever areas they’ve not yet discovered. And she knows Rocket’s busy arguing with Groot near the storage area - apparently explosives don’t mix well with whatever kindling Groot has started to shed. And Peter -

He’d shuffled off to the captain’s quarters with the earpieces of his Zune tucked securely in his ears some time ago.

It seems that all is right in the galaxy.

For now.

AO3

STRANGER THINGS

the wind is low, the birds will sing that you are part of everything

ANONYMOUS ASKED: a fic prompt - Steve gets introduced to El and internally he's like 'guess ive got 5 kids now' :3

She looks very different than she did three days earlier. Gone is the slicked-back hair and heavy eye makeup, gone are the ratty jeans and ripped shirts and jackets. The girl that sits before him now doesn’t particularly look like she’s hiding superpowers. She looks like just that, a girl - radiating innocence and timidity beneath a veritable mop of lazy curls that hang down in her big wide brown eyes. Her clothes are big and baggy and definitely scream hand-me-down but he can tell by looking at her that she has no concept of why that might be a bad thing.

It’s when she slides off the bed and steps toward him - after casting an uncertain glance at Mike - that it really hits him. She reaches up to push her hair out of her eyes and he finally sees them, the depth behind those irises, the strength radiating off of her that seems to originate somewhere down in her bones. What he thought was timidity is now a carefully-restrained surge of pure power. It very nearly floors him.

“Hi,” her voice is soft and measured and her hand is steady as she reaches toward him.

AO3

watching through windows, you’re wondering if i’m okay

The whole house is quiet, the echoes of Billy’s barbaric screaming long-since faded away, but when Mike closes his eyes and inhales deeply enough, he could swear he still smells the faintly tangy scent of whatever that gel was in El’s hair, the one that filled his lungs when he breathed her in. He can still feel the heat of her against him, the way her heart beat so hard and wild against his chest, the way her nails dug into his shoulders through his sweater when he’d hugged her as close and as hard as he could. He can still feel her, alive and breathing, real and there, even though it’s been a couple of hours and he’s had as many brushes with death in that time. The anxiety still bristling in his stomach roars and doubles over on top of itself, threatening to buckle his knees and bring him to the floor for a moment.

It’s the memory of those headlights flaring to near blinding proportions that keeps him steady on his feet. There’s no way that was anything but Eleven.

The aftermath of the group's collective brush with the Mind Flayer and his army.

AO3

#em's masterpost #brooklyn 99 fanfiction #the good place fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

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probably-not-star-lord · 6 years ago

Text

Assassins (Wade Wilson x Reader)

A/N: Okay I really like the angst of this request but idk how comfortable I am with how violent it turned out oops

Request: wade wilson x reader where they find out he's deadpool when he's assigned to kill the reader and wade doesn't know it's them either until they're nearly dead

Summary: You and your best friend, Wade, are both highly trained assassins who are hired to kill the bad guys. What are you going to do when something terribly wrong happens and you’re assigned to kill each other? Will you ever get the chance to tell one another how you really feel?

Warnings: swearing, angst, violence, Deadpool

You and Wade sit on the couch in his apartment, watching Say Anything for what is probably the billionth time. Saturday is your 80′s movie marathon day with Wade, where the two of you simply go through your favorite classics and sit on your asses to watch them for hours. Your head is resting on his chest and you can hear his heartbeat. It’s calming, soothing, and you’re completely unaware that his heart beats entirely for you.

You watch the screen as Lloyd Dobler stands outside Diane Court’s window in his iconic, tan jacket playing their song out of his boombox. “Damn,” you mutter. “I still don’t get how she didn’t go out there. If a guy did that for me I don’t even know what I would do. I would just...”

“You’d be on your knees in like, a second,” Wade retorts. You nod in agreement. He watches you with a grin. “I can get a boombox and play Peter Gabriel outside your window if you’d like.”

“Why?” You laugh. “You trying to win over my heart?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Plus, think of how fucking amazing the sex would be after I did something like that for you. You’re totally the kind of girl to drop your panties at that romantic bullshit.”

“Please!” You scoff. “If a girl did something romantic for you, your panties would be on the ground just as fast!”

“See, that's where you’re wrong,” Wade argues. “I’m not wearing any panties.” He winks at you and you laugh in response. His arm pulls you closer into his chest as you finish the film.

Around one o’clock in the morning, you decide to head out. You and Wade say your goodbyes and as you walk home in the crowded, city street you can’t help but smile to yourself. Wade is perfect for you: he’s charming, sweet, and knows how to make you laugh. Whenever you spend time with him you get this reoccurring feeling that there’s something there. So, taking a deep breath, you promise yourself that the next time you see him you’ll tell him how you feel.

You’re tossing and turning in bed as several hours pass late into the night. Your phone buzzing on the nightstand disturbs you from almost falling asleep. You expect it to be Wade, sending you a reference from one of the movies you watched today so he can keep you up all night long with his goofy texts. But, it’s one of your many teammates. They have a project for you that needs to get done tonight.

See, there’s this little secret between you and Wade. Actually, there are two very important pieces of information the both of you have never disclosed to each other. But as best friends, neither of you know these secrets exist. The first one is simple: you’re utterly in love with each other. It started out as a friendship that began one night when you drank late at the bar. He admired the way you didn't give a fuck about his scars, but he has always been nervous about what a good person you are. He isn’t ready to show you his Deadpool side just yet, which is a part of his secret. You haven't even seen his legendary suit! Wade knows you’re far too sweet to hurt anybody, and the fact that he’s slaughtered several people, even if they’re dangerous and evil, will not settle well with you and he knows it.

But, that’s where the second secret comes in: you are also a highly trained assassin.

You run around in a tight, leather suit and murder all of the bad guys you’re assigned to kill. You’d never harm anyone for fun or pleasure, but after gaining mutant abilities that gave you the strength to never die, you figured you would put those powers to good use. So, you joined a discount X-Men team, where you’re the only one with abilities and skills and everyone else gives you assignments. Of course, you couldn't tell Wade any of this. What would he think of you? Things are going far too well and you love him too much to ruin everything you’ve built together.

Neither of you intended for the other to discover these secrets, and especially not like this.

You’re lurking in the streets in your suit, mask completely covering your face. You enter the bar you met Wade in and a rush of guilt flows through you. What if Wade knows this guy you’re about to kill? You've never heard him mention a Deadpool before so, hopefully, you’re in the clear. Carefully, you rest your hands on the guns strapped to your hips and barge through the door. Upon your entrance, all eyes land on you.

“There she is, fuckers!” a man announces. “I told you I didn’t have to go after her! I knew she’d come crawling right to me.” The man reveals himself, prancing out from behind the bar in a bright, red suit. It covers every part of him and you have no way of identifying him as Deadpool, but you’re pretty sure that it is.

“You must be Deadpool, you son of a bitch.”

He gasps, placing his gloved hands to his face in shock. “Bingo! What gave it away?”

His voice sounds slightly familiar, but it’s muffled enough through the mask to hide any similarities that are distinct. “I’m guessing you know why I’m here,” you state, taking a step closer to him.

“I’m guessing you’re my next kill?”

“My teammates weren’t lying when they said you were an asshole,” you chuckle sarcastically.

Deadpool places his hands on his hips and looks you up and down, admiring the way the leather in your suit accentuates your curves. He finds you attractive, no doubt, but he’s about to kill you and he only has eyes for you, or what he thinks is the real you. But, a little flirting could help his case in making you weak enough to destroy. “Well, the fucker that hired me to kill you failed to inform me that you’re the sexiest villain of all time. That excludes Mystique, of course, cause she’s pretty fucking hot.”

“Villain?” you ask. “If anyone’s the villain here, it’s you. Why else would I be hired to kill your pathetic ass?”

“What? How could I be the-”

“I don’t have time for this,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes beneath your mask.

You lunge toward him, jumping over a table and kicking him in the neck so he falls over. You’re hovering above him now with your legs spread apart over his torso. You whip out your pistols and aim them right at his chest, firing a couple of times, but Deadpool looks completely unphased. Instead, he laughs proudly and grabs a hold of your legs to flip you over on your back. He skips out of the bar, leaving the customers to stare at you in bewilderment. You shoot at the door a few times before he completely escapes.

“Fuck!” you shout, whipping off your mask and pushing back the hair that fell down. Your gaze turns to Weasel who stands behind the bar staring at you in shock. “Sorry, Weasel, I didn't mean to interrupt your night.”

“Y/N?” he questions with wide eyes.

“Oh, yeah, also please don’t tell Wade about this whole assassin thing, okay?” You shoot him a sympathetic look but are met with silence. “Thanks!”

Pulling your mask back on, you head out the door. “Y/N! Wait!” Weasel calls after you, but you’re far too gone to hear him.

You dive into the nearest alleyway where you’re met with a grinning Deadpool who’s leaning against the brick building. “Oh, hello,” he greets. You don’t have time to say anything before he pulls two swords from his back and swings them around. “Let’s dance...and by that I mean let’s try to fucking kill each other.”

“You’re on, bitch,” you spit, retrieving the guns from your pockets again. He swings to cut you, but misses. There are many more attempts, but you dodge every single one.

“Shit!” he hollers, dropping his swords to his sides. “Where the fuck did they cook up a skilled killer like you?” He gasps again, leaning in close to whisper in your face. “Black Widow? Is that you?”

You back away from him and shoot at his chest repeatedly, earning a few fake screams. He takes a couple of steps forward, walking you back into the empty street with his swords ready again. He stabs one right through your stomach and guffaws proudly, pumping a fist in the air. You remove the blade from the wound, which heals in a matter of seconds. His excited expression falters as he watches. You waltz toward him, pushing your smaller guns into your pockets and retrieving the larger one that’s attached to your back. Once you’re close to him you shove it right into the center of his chest. “What are you? Surprised?” You grunt, pushing him back with your weapon. “You’re not the only that can’t die, Deadpool.”

You fire the gun which shoots him flying backward. Gun still in hand, you jog over to his body, only to find him alive and healing. He makes an attempt to get back up, but you push a foot to his chest and kick him right back down, straddling him. You see his eyebrows wiggle underneath the mask. “This is an interesting position,” he remarks. Ignoring him, you place the gun at his forehead.

In a swift movement, Deadpool shoves both swords through your chest, lifting you from the ground before you can even pull the trigger. Just as quick as you’re lifted you’re slammed down. He pushes the blades deeper into you as they pierce the ground, forcing you to keep still.

You struggle against the blades, too weak to move anything. Your wounds try and heal, but fail with the swords still stabbed through you. “Wait...” you choke out. “Not like this...”

Deadpool nods right in your face. “Oh, yes like this.”

“But I didn't...I didn’t get to...”

“You didn't get to what? Kill me?” He mocks. “I’m sorry, sister, but I’ve learned the hard way that I truly cannot die. It almost happened once but it didn’t work out.”

“No...” you murmur, breathing slower as the cut continues to fail at healing. “I didn't get to...get to tell Wade...I didn't get to tell Wade how I felt...”

He takes a step back, now instantly recognizing your voice. “Wait...no...” he slurs, getting ready to remove the swords. But, you’re still unaware who he is, and believe you've just distracted him. You reach for the gun that rests beside you and shakily lift it to aim right at his head. Pulling the trigger, you plow him backward, shooting him right through his skull. Your hands shake as they yank the bloody swords from your body and you hold onto them as you stumble over to Deadpool.

He’s lying on the ground, still unharmed as the bullet hole fades, the bullet falling out of his forehead seconds later. He tries to speak, but you interrupt him with a groan, gripping the swords tighter and shoving them right through his chest and into the ground, just like he did to you. That leaves him breathless and unable to explain what you don’t know. Yet, you know the swords won’t stop him, so you grab your gun and fire a few more blows to his head.

He fights to reach his head, his hands shaking as he pulls off his red mask. He turns to face you and smiles weakly. “Y/N...”

“Wade?” you whimper, stripping off your own mask. A tear falls down your cheek as he nods in agreement. You cover your mouth in shock and you gently pull the swords from his body. When you find the wounds are not healing instantly, you fall on your knees. You cry harder, falling onto his chest as you slowly lose your breath. “Wade, please don’t die. I’m...I’m so sorry...”

He notices the lack of volume in your voice and frowns. “I...I’m sorry...” he exhales, reaching a tired hand to your wounds that are healing right beneath your fingertips. “Okay...you...you're getting better...that...that’s good.” Wade tries to sit up but you’re there just as he falls, catching him in your open arms. “Y/N...I don’t know if-”

“No,” you hush him. “Don’t say that Wade, please don’t fucking say that.”

“But Y/N-”

“No, stop, you’re gonna be fine.”

“Y/N...I need you to know that I...I love you....so much...” he cries, using all of his might to get his final words out. “...so fucking much.”

His vision blurs as his eyes fill with tears as he watches you sob beside him, telling him it will get better. “No, Wade, please stop,” you whisper, pulling him closer to you. Your gaze falls to the cuts from his swords and you watch as they heal slowly. They're so deep, but they’re getting better, just not fast enough. You place a delicate hand on where you stabbed him, full of nothing but regret.

He brings his own hand to your cheek, your eyes falling down to meet his kind, brown ones. “Y/N...”

“Wade...I love you,” you say, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. As he kisses you back, you feel the blood underneath your hand vanish, the skin that once stood there returning. You break away from the kiss to glance down to where the wounds once were, only to find healed skin. Your eyes meet his and he smiles brightly. “Were you just being dramatic? Did you know you were gonna heal? Cause that is so fucked up.”

He giggles. “I don’t know if it’s fucked up, Y/N, I’d rather call it romantic.”

You nod understandingly. “Romantic...like the boombox outside the window.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, sitting up. “Who needs that when you can have romantic death scenes?”

“You are so fucking lucky I love you,” you chuckle as he grabs your hand and stands up with you.

Wade reaches for the back of your neck and pulls you into him for another kiss, yet this one is passionate and deep. His hand tangles in your hair as you wrap your hands around his neck to push his lips even closer to your own. A few moments pass before he pulls away, taking your hand once again to start walking back to the bar where you just tried killing each other.

“So you’re an assassin?” he asks, quirking up an eyebrow at you.

You smirk. “So you’re Deadpool?”

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