#and i tried with a certain red lady but somehow we got locked out of recruiting her due to an action we did she shouldnt of known about

[jacquiarno]

Hahaha, wow, the undead guy roasting me on how pathetic my love life is.... It's not my fault the companions won't talk to me in co-op mode and that the game seems to be treating me as a no name npc....

[cozage]

hi coza! may i request a short fic of fem!reader joining sanji for a smoke break? reader asks sanji to light her cigarette by leaning close to the lit cigarette on his lips 😌 plus lots of flirting between them lovers 💖 thank you!

Characters: female reader x Sanji Cw: none :) Total word count: 500

Smoke Break

“I thought I’d find you out here,” you said, climbing up onto the rooftop. “Hiding away?”

Sanji smiled as he moved over, allowing you to sit next to him. “They’re so damn noisy all of the time.”

You laughed, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his box of cigarettes. “Noisy, yes.” You pulled out a cigarette and easily slipped the box back into his pocket, as you had done hundreds of times before. “But they’re all still very loveable.”

Sanji rolled his eyes. “Maybe the ladies, sure-you most of all. But those guys…”

“I disagree!” You argued. “I find the guys on this ship to be very loveable! You most of all.”

You gave him a wink as you raised the cigarette to your mouth, and you could see a hint of jealousy flicker across his face. Perhaps you had gone too far with that last comment. Better to make amends before he started thinking too much about it.

“Got a light?” you asked coyly. You both knew he did.

He didn’t have as much enthusiasm as he pulled his lighter out of his jacket pocket.

You ignored his outstretched hand, choosing to lean in close to him and press your cigarette against his, your faces so close that you could feel his shallow breath against you. 

You locked eyes with him, portraying a secret only for him. He was the only one you loved so deeply. He was the only one who knew you - truly knew you. And once you were certain he realized that, you pulled away from him with a smirk on your face. 

“Thanks, love,” you said softly, exhaling out a cloud of smoke.

You didn’t have to look over at him to know his face was beet red. “You-you can’t-you-”

“Sanji darling,” you gave an exasperated sigh. “All I did was ask for a light.”

“That is not all you did!” he huffed, taking another long drag to calm his nerves. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you giggled, letting your eyes roam across the ship to watch the others.

Luffy has somehow managed to get tangled up in some ropes and nets, and though Zoro had tried to help him, it appeared that he had also gotten tangled up in it as well. Nami had taken to screaming at them as the only avenue of helping them get out. 

“We certainly have our work cut out for us on this ship, don’t we?”

“I’m afraid so,” Sanji sighed. “But at least I’ve got you.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a pleased hum. “And I have you, you crazy lovesick cook.”

[titan-senpai]

What the Hell part 4.

A young lady who was a model lived on earth ended in a tragic way.. and ended up in hell somehow? While she cant hurt a fly.. Right?

[Hazbin/Helluva Masterlist]

[Part 5 wil be the series finale!]

Warning; Cursing, smoking, violence, Toxic relationship,

" Husk?" I walked closer to them. "Who's asking ?" he yelled. I put the robe on angel and me and husk locked eyes. " Y/N'' he looked at me for quite some time. " It's been a while hasn't it?" I smiled, bending down to his height " yeah i haven't seen you since i left.." He smiled. I missed that smile..

That smile could make Hell feel like Heaven for a minute...

Years ago, I was quite close with a certain overlord called.. Husk, i didn't think i'll ever see him again but i finally spotted him, after all these years i met him again through Angel.

I put my hands covering my mouth " Where have you been?" I walked closer to him, my boots clanking on the ombre floor as he held his arms open for me, holding me in his arms softly whispering "It's a long story." as I leaned into his neck finally in his embrace again.

"I'm sorry I left darlin'' looking in my eyes as mine began to tear up, "why didn't you contact me.. or at least try to find me." I was still pissed about what he did.

"I really tried.." I'm sorry" he kissed my lips.

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" Where the fuck do you think your going" I yelled as he packed his bags. "Just visiting a friend." He said, zipping his bag up. not daring to face me. "You're leaving me aren't you." I cried as I took a step back in our bedroom.

Still not turning back to look at me i sobbed lightly, walking to the door of the bedroom. "Alright.. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." I walked out the bedroom in a robe and fuzzy slippers mascara now running down my face as I still was crying.

opening my hellphone to see a picture of me and Husk wearing fancy clothes for a party for overlords. I was holding a glass of champagne as he was holding a beer. His cheek was covered by my dark red lipstick.

"I'm done." as i heard quickly putting my phone in my pocket. turning around to face him as he still couldn't look at me. "Husk." I let out a sympathetic whisper. i walked to him " Look at me husk..'' I said standing in the way of the door of our apartment. as he lifted his head emotionless, he really didn't care... I smiled, hugging him, inhaling his scent for the last time.

" Goodbye..Husk '' tears sliding down my face as he kissed my cheek for the last time " Goodbye my darling.." he cupped my face sliding down my cheek as I nodded . I moved out of the way as he left the apartment.

My knees became numb as I fell to the ground sobbing, clutching my phone and my heart.

He truly didn't love me anymore.

Well that's what I thought at the moment..

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" I really tried.." he said, kissing my lips... " where are you staying now?" I asked , finally pulling away. " I'm staying at The Hazbin Hotel, come check it out" He introduced me to The princess of Hell. " This is Charlie, I've been staying with her for a little while," he pointed. " Hi, it's nice to meet you! i'm a huge fan of your work!" she smiled as she lifted her hand wanting to shake mine. instead i hugged her" thank you... for taking care of him" I smiled. " Oh! no worries." she smiled as angel asked about the photoshoot.

"What about the shoot Y/N?" He pointed at the set, and I let go of Charlie looking at them. snapping my fingers as a cast member came running to me. " Cancel the shoot." I told the staff. " What?!" Angel yelled. " Are you sure you miss Y/N?" the cast member asked. I nodded as she walked off telling the team.

"What if Val finds out we cancel it.." He panicked showing pure panic. "I won't let that happen to you, he has to deal with me if he wants to deal with you besides I wanted to see the hazbin hotel for myself." I smiled as I got my hellphone calling the biggest clothing company HellStyle to clear my agenda for personal reasons.

"Give us a couple of minutes, i called us a car to the hazbin hotel" I locked hands with Angel as we walked to the changing rooms.

making my outfit as my phone rang flipping it over.. Valentino... picking it up. " Y/N speaking." I said formally as i made it float in the air packing some makeup in my suitcase. "Do you know what you've done... " he said, I looked at my phone pissed. "Yes. I know . simply i don't care." I stood up pushing the trolley to the side as I cleaned the area. "You will pay for this.. or at least he will" He threatened me " Don't you. fucking. dare." I stopped in my tracks "Just you wait" he laughed hanging up. rolling my eyes as i kept making it out of fabric, making an black trench coat, White top with a leather skirt. as I put on my white thigh high boots.

"You ready Y/N?" Angel said in his usual outfit " you're missing something.." I said putting my finger on my lip as the other started moving around grabing white fabric as it lit up making an white fur jacket for him. as it flew to him. " Thank you!" he smiled as he put it on. " Now you're ready." We walked out the door as Charlie and Husk left early

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A day passed by and I met the lovely hazbin hotel, as i walked in our headquarters walking in the elevator as i felt the camera flash red as i knew Vox was watching. jumping out of the camera as the door closed and it headed up. pink smoke filling the elevator as he teleported using his camera.

"Do you know what you've done." He said waiting for the door to open, just giving me a warning since I was ' friends ' with him " I know, but I couldn't see Angel in pain anymore. " I rubbed my temples as we almost reached the highest floor “Goodluck kid." he patted my shoulder and disappeared into the camera again.

opening my phone texting Velvette what shit was about to go down. The elevator door opened as I looked around exiting the lift door. seeing broken stuff on the ground, paintings of me torn i sighed as it was always the same. i mentally prepared myself as I heard Val Scream. and stormed to my side. Unlike pushing me away he grabbed my neck and squeezed me against the wall. "Do you know what you've done.." he screamed, squeezing tighter on my throat. I pulled at his fist on my neck trying to get air. "Youve really fucked up Y/N.." He said seeing red.. an idea popped up in my head.

moving my hands to get a piece of red fabric on the table that i was checking out i made it into a rope and wrapped it around his neck tightening it more. as I started to choke. He let go of my throat as I made the movement to stop the fabric as it goes to its regular self.

He threw me on the ground. " Fucking bitch playing games now aren't we.." he looked at me like i was trash. "Don't forget who made you powerful.." He kicked me to the side. i sat there clenching my ribs in pain "LOOK At ME YOU PATHETIC BITCH" He wanted to slap me as Velvette walked in on this horrific scene. standing in shock dropping her phone as she saw her best friend in pain " Mate.. That's enough" She walked behind him.

"She would have been nothing without us." he spit next to me as i stood up clenching my waist which was now bleeding. " I don't need you." I looked him dead in the eye. " It wasnt you that helped me i was fucking Velvette and Vox." I moved my hand around now, tying him down with fabric. "Don't forget your place. I was the one that helped you sign these contracts you worthless bitch" I made the contracts appear in front of his face. " And even Angel Dust." moving my hands as the one sighed Anthony flew to his face. " I have the original copy. you have a printed version." I bent down as my fabric pulled him down. " One wrong move" My eyes turned black and red. " I will break your whole entire industry." I smiled creepily. " So don't fuck with me you pathetic moth” i let my fabrics go as reality kicked in for him. " That looks bad Y/N let me take you to the hospital." Velvette said taking a look at my bruised neck with his hand print on it and my side that is now bleeding.

" Go back to that fucking bitch of yours." I turned around seeing him still laughing about everything. "You heard me, husk wasn't it...The gambler who gambled his life away." he inhaled a smoke, "what." I stood there still clenching my side. " Oops, you didn't know? We'll you were busy making your industry but he was your lover wasn't he.. he was dumb enough to gamble his soul.." He exhaled pink smoke floating around out. I stood there in shock. " Forget that bitch lets go dear." Velvette said. " Did you know.." I looked at her as she nodded.

" Not so confident are we Y/N..should i give the owner of his soul and call and end his poor cat's soul?" He smiled creepily. as i walked out in disbelieve

I needed an explanation, like right now.

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[rainwaterapothecary]

A Certain Insecticidal Flower pt 3

#serennedyprideweek Prompt 6 - Flowers

[Part 2]

Watching Luis stalk through the mines, arms flailing expressively was torture. And Leon would know, he was currently going through two experiences simultaneously that by definition fell under ‘torture’.

Leon sucked in a shallow breath, thirsty for air but unable to fill his lungs. Somewhere behind him, Luis was saying something about looking out but Leon wrote him off outside of marking his rough location. The pistol in his hand smacked against his palm as he loaded and knocked it in one fluid motion, raining lead down on a Ganado that looked like she could have been a schoolteacher in a past life. He couldn’t think like that. They were targets. Deep breath, aim for the head.

Bang. Luis cheered at his marksmanship before yelling ‘Oye!’ and raining lead from his magnum.

Weaving around the mines with Luis settled the off-kilter feeling the agent had been fighting since the scientist left them, he realized with a jolt. That isn’t right, it should be the other way around.

Who is this guy?

A researcher. Ex-Umbrella. A ladies’ man.

Why did the last one sting the worst?

Dealing with Luis Serra made him feel a bit like a lava lamp: big feelings moving in clumps and bubbles that he tries to send away with each revelation about the man’s past only to have the exact same wave buffet him with a smile or an exclamation.

It was exhausting.

It made him fucking cough.

“Easy there, let me take a look before we go further into the nest.”

“The nest?”

“Sí, this is where the plagas ancestors were dug up, locked in amber.”

Leon tries to sigh but all that comes up is a cough and the tang of blood. Not now.

“Remember what I said about opening fire, Luis.” He tried, with a tight grin. The scientist shook his head and rolled his eyes before waving the agent ahead of him.

“After you.”

Next thing he knew, they were in battle.

Again.

It was a bit like a whirlwind sprint, how adrenaline got Leon through his makeshift arena fights. Hyper-focused on each detail around him, ready to take on two giants at a time in a small space.

“One for each of us! You get that one!”

Luis sounded almost cheerful as he unconsciously lifted half the weight Leon was struggling to carry. The Red9 fired repeatedly and the race was on.

Somehow Leon was climbing and shooting and slashing in a tizzy over and over, trying to hack away at the pest that kept his giant going.

Then Luis ran.

Leon really should have been expecting it. Massive, shambling monsters covered in armor-

Then he came back.

Luis came back.

“Brought you a present, ey!” Leon could hear his smile as the cocky fucker jumped off the thing’s back. Damn they worked well as a team. The thing turned to face Leon and Luis would shoot, then they would trade. Boots hit metal and a magnum fired.

The floor opened up.

“Oh shit! Sorry!”  

“Jesus, Lu-“ Leon rolled out of the way of a slamming foot and switched out with the withe man at the controls. “Cover me!”

“On it!”

“Luis, MOVE!”

-

If only he had been able to yell in time.

The minecart fiasco had lulled him into an adrenaline-and-Luis-filled haze where the two worked with all their combined faculties to keep each other alive, unshot, and on the rails. At times he almost had the Spaniard curled into his chest, keeping his head down and out of pistol fire.

Then he was gone.

Leon felt the branches choke him from the inside out as tears of agony muddied his vision.

”Rookie.”

Krauser.

“Luis-!” Leon almost turned away from Krauser when he heard the other man shift in the dirt, but then the blade was out of Luis’ back and in Leon’s, proverbially. With a sinking feeling Leon took in three things:

-Krauser had removed the knife -Luis was bleeding, bad -Leon couldn’t breathe

His vision swam in and out in speckles as sharp, blue eyes shot from red beret to knife to amber to Luis and back.

Krauser didn’t finish his monologue about ‘trash’ before Leon’s knife was at his throat.

“Knives are faster, right Major?” With a tinkling sound, Leon forced something out of the larger man’s hand and reeled back to punch him in the face.

His heart ached to talk this out, to make the Major see reason, but his training and his air capacity said fight and fight hard.

So he did.

A predatory smile stretched Krauser’s scarred features as he traded blows with his protégé, knives flashing in the low light, one soaked in Luis’ blood.

“Why are you- doing this-?” Leon grunted. Ah, his heart hadn’t given up. Waste of oxygen. “Are you in that- that cult?”

No. Krauser was just an asshole.

An asshole working as a free agent, probably with very little backup.

Somehow Leon ended up on his back as his vision fuzzed out once more, knees coming up to throw his attacker against the wall. His boot soles connected with something solid and a gun went off twice.

The magnum.

Luis.

With a growl, the thing attacking Leon lept to the scaffolding around them. Leon squinted. Major Krauser?

The blond slowly sat up, his breath whistling around the branches he hid.

When his vision cleared, the threat had retreated and a body hit the ground with a familiar groan.

“Luis!” Leon got to his feet far too quickly and had to blink fireflies out of his eyes as he stumbled to his…friend.

Oh no. Luis is my…my friend.

Taking wheezing breaths between his teeth, Leon begged Luis to stop speaking, to save his energy, to stay with him.

Something was being pressed into his hand.

“Here, the key to my lab.” A pitiful laugh left the other man’s lips, coated in lifeblood and sad. “And I think the Amber fell somewhere to my left, you knocked it out of that puta madre’s hand with your- your attack, Sancho.” Leon’s vision flicked to the phial on the metal decking, noting it helplessly as the hands gripping his own got colder and colder. His hands began to shake.

“Luis- Luis no, no Luis you are going-“

Wracking coughs tore him apart from guts to uvula, curling the agent over the hands he was holding.

For a moment he forgot what he was holding, what his body was doing.

He felt weightless.

“Leon…” Something in his hand moved.

Oh.

Luis’ hand is on his head, that feels nice.

“L-luis no-“

Bright, nearly electric orange exploded into their laps, accented by the bright red blood of Leon’s windpipe.

Luis’ last breath was wasted on a gasp of shock and understanding.

Leon slumped into the dead man’s lap and expelled a certain insecticidal plant from petal to root, the flowers having nothing to hold onto after the object of their love left the world.

Yellows, oranges, brightest reds. A fireworks display of love and broken-hearted affection dashed across leather gloves and wet rock.

*-*-* A/N

If you want you can stop reading here BUT there's one more part bc I did RESEARCH lol

[Part 4]

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 17

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter, grasping for straws to remain 'The Prank Master,' thinks he's found a way to annoy you into conceding. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to him, what he's found is something much worse.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Content Warning for descriptions/mentions of PTSD and flashbacks. Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 34 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 6,761

Red covered your mouth and nose, all over your hand, and a bit on your sheets. You blearily tried to gather your senses, tried to open your eyes against the unforgiving light that blinded you.

Peter stood over you, laughing. Telling you that you got what was coming to you as you groaned.

That fecker had put ketchup in your hand while you slept and then tickled your nose with one of the fuzzy-tipped novelty pens on your desk. The dickhead.

"Ugh! Gross! Dude!?" you complain, sitting up and reaching over to grab the tissues off your desk so you could clean yourself up.

"Serves you right for what you did to me!" Peter countered, gesturing to the blue staining his body. He began to walk out of your room, making sure to let you know that you shouldn't expect the two of you were even.

You roll your eyes and continue wiping the ketchup-y mess off of you. You glance down at your sheets and realized you'd need to wash them today too. Great. Guess this is what you got for sleeping-in.

Once you had finally cleaned yourself up you gathered your sheets to take them downstairs to wash them, but not before making a pit-stop to Peter's room. Wanting to make the trip quick you grabbed the first thing you could find- his comb- and pocketed it. It was about to have a date with some jelly.

As you turned to leave his room you saw Rocket standing in the hall just outside the door.

With a knowing grin he asked, "Whatcha doin' there?"

"Nothing," you answer flatly, gathering your sheets back up.

He let you pass but said, "So I guess I didn't just see you steal Quill's comb, then?" There was amusement in his voice.

"He'll get it back," you answer, not pausing in your walk towards the stairs.

"What do you plan on doing to it?" he asked, intrigued. He had no intents to squeal on you. This prank-y-ness was a side of you he had been pleasantly surprised to see. Much better the the stiff agent-type you usually liked to display. Had he maybe misjudged you?

"The less you know the better," you answered, continuing down the stairs.

No witnesses. Rocket liked your style. Maybe you didn't have such a stick up your butt after all.

***

You threw your sheets in the washer and put the kettle on. It was time to make some jelly.

While waiting for the kettle you grabbed the packet of jelly from the pantry and something quick for breakfast. Deciding on a granola bar, you go to pull one from the box when you also notice that all your spices had been flipped upside down. Obviously Peter's doing. That's also when you remember that you had hidden the rest of the food dye behind the spices, prompting you to give a quick peek to see that the box was still there.

It wasn't.

Peter must have found it while setting up his prank and took them, intent on making the two of you "even."

Crap.

The kettle began to whistle and you pulled yourself out of your thoughts of doom to start fixing the jelly. You could think about the dye later. Right now you had mischief to make.

You mix up the jelly in a glass bowl, adding in an extra packet of gelatin to make sure the shape would hold later. Then, looking around to make sure no one was around, you take Peter's comb out of your pocket and drop it in. The bowl was just big enough for the comb to catch on the sides roughly about halfway deep in the jelly water, so that when you turned it out it would be nicely suspended in the green jelly. You then quickly take the bowl to the fridge to set, burying it in the back on the bottom shelf so it hopefully wouldn't be seen.

Then you simply went about your day as normal.

***

Other than several bad puns, Peter surprisingly didn't attempt much to annoy you that day, and you had no doubts that it was because he was confident that he'd be able to return the favor in dyeing you an odd color when you showered tonight.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Too bad for him he had no way to know that you knew, and you were confident that you could deal with it when that time came if you paid enough attention. For now you were just going to act none-the-wiser, and accept his invitation to watch a show with the others.

You settled in on the couch and the episode starts. It's a title you haven't heard of before.

Watching it you gathered it was a type of mystery/detective/thriller type that was somehow also a comedy. A detective was accused of killing this old lady, and he was on the run to try and prove his innocence. Lots of action, a bunch of red-herrings, overall not a bad show so far if you had to judge by this episode.

Then there was the end-scene.

The detective finally found the actual murderer, the mayor, and after tricking him into broadcasting his confession over the radio in this abandoned radio station- where he somehow had managed to make a broadcast work- the two fight. Only the mayor has a gun, and the detective's fell into a storm drain two scenes ago.

Through his cunning the detective manages to escape alive, but not unharmed. He's got a compound fracture to his leg. Cops are on the scene and arresting the mayor after surrounding him at gunpoint, and ambulances can be heard in the background.

You feel the hair on your arms stand up.

The sound of the sirens just keeps getting louder.

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

They get louder. You look away from the screen into your lap.

All you can hear now is sirens. You don't realize they've already stopped on the screen. There's now instead dialogue, a conversation between characters, but you are unaware of it.

Your hands clench into fists, nails digging into your palms. You fight the images in your head. You don't want to see them. You hear sounds of tearing metal. Sirens. Screaming. Beeping. Your breathing gets shallow and you work to keep it quiet. You had to fight it back. Sirens. Bright lights. Glass shattering. Screaming. Sirens. You keep saying to yourself inside your mind that it's ok. You're ok. But what about-

Kraglin makes a comment to Yondu about something said on screen. You don't hear him. You only hear the sirens. God, why won't they stop? Screeching. Sirens. Blinding lights. Sirens.

Yondu turns to reply to Kraglin, but sees you looking strange. He raises an eyebrow, which Kraglin notices. He follows Yondu's gaze and sees you staring into your lap, body rigid, hands balled tightly into fists. Your eyes are wide, but unseeing. Your jaw is set.

Before either of them can say a word the buzzer on the washer goes off and you seem to jolt out of it, quickly hopping up and making your way out of the room.

Yondu and Kraglin share a look. What was that about?

***

You didn't return for another episode. Instead, you decided it was a nice enough day to hang your washing on the line. It hardly took you any time at all to finish, but you decide to stay outside for a bit anyways. Fresh air and all that.

Everything was fine. You were ok.

When you finally come back in it's well after a suitable lunchtime, and realizing that the only thing you had today was a granola bar, you decide to cut up an apple and sit at the table, scrolling on your phone as you eat.

Yondu comes into the kitchen for a drink and joins you at the table. "Where'd you go runnin' off to?" he asks, "Decide you didn't like the show?" What he really wanted to ask was what had prompted that look in your eyes earlier, but he knew better than to just come out an ask. You'd just deny anything had happened.

"Had laundry to dry," you answer, not looking up from your phone.

"Ya were gone an awful long time for laundry." Yondu said, not missing that you completely ignored his question about the show. But the question still bugged him. He recognized the look in your eyes back then. He remembered sometimes catching it in the eyes of some of the older battle slaves in the barracks when he was younger. It was the look one had when they were flashing back to something horrific they had been through. He and the other younger battle slaves were always told by other elders to leave those be when they were "stuck in it", as they would say. Don't disturb them. They'll come out of it. Nothing for it but to let it pass.

That never did sit right with him.

"It's a nice day. Thought I'd enjoy it," you answered.

Yondu hummed shortly. You weren't giving him anything, and he knew you wouldn't.

He decided not to press it for now, but he could tell something had triggered that response from you, he just didn't know what. He suspected it had something to do with whatever it was that you kept locked away inside. He had clues and suspicions as to what, but of course he couldn't be sure, though he was more determined now than he had previously been to figure you out. Only one thing was certain. You had pain inside you. A lot of it. No one should have to go through that alone.

***

Kraglin, unlike Yondu, wasn't nearly as subtle when he saw you next. However, he wouldn't get any further.

"Mind if I help?" he asked, joining you in the garden where you were pulling a few weeds.

"Go for it," you reply, barely looking up. There weren't many to pull, as it was starting to get cooler lately. You mostly just came out for something to do. Soon it'd be time to harvest the whole garden.

The two of you work in silence for a bit. Then, Kraglin asks, "So, um, was you alright earlier? I mean, saw that ya looked mighty shaken when we was watching that show."

"Don't know what you're talking about," you answer, standing up and tossing the weeds you picked over to the compost bucket.

Kraglin looked up to meet your gaze, frowning. He was about to say something along the lines that you were full of shit, but he stopped himself when he saw your stern expression. You weren't just denying it. With just those few words, combined with the subtly hard look on your face, you were outright telling him that he didn't see whatever it was that he thought he saw.

He exhaled out his nose and just gave you a look that said that he didn't believe you, but he wouldn't push it. He could see that you would just shut him out, and he felt like it wasn't his place to press it.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, breaking the awkward silence and causing you both to jump.

You sigh, not appreciating the jolt, and said, "Damn hunters."

Kraglin nodded and tried to take this distraction as an opportunity to change the subject. If you wouldn't open up, maybe he could try and make you smile instead. "So... nice job on dyeing Pete blue last night. Real funny."

"I certainly thought so," you said.

He almost thought he saw you crack a smile. Wanting to bring about a full grin he decided to tell a story. "Yeah, it was just like this time Pete rigged a dye pack up in one of Yondu's drawers, I think he mentioned it last night. Anyway, so somehow Pete rigs it up, I think he got mad at Cap'n for making him scrub the grease traps or somethin', but anyway then Yondu goes to open his drawer one mornin,' yeah? And he's blasted in the face with this red dye. Ohhh boy! He was madder than a muzzled Flerken!!"

The mental image was enough to make your lips curl up involuntarily.

Kraglin noted this and continued, "What's worse is he had to meet with some lady client the next day about a job, and he couldn't get it off. He was this funny shade of purple for over a week!"

A short laugh suddenly breaks through your throat and you look at him. "Really?" you ask, mirth in your eyes. The mental image of the blue man looking quite cross and splattered purple while trying to commit space pirate business dealings was a humorous one.

"Yeah. He grounded Pete for so long after that." Kraglin replied, chuckling.

"I'll bet," you say as you stand up and brush yourself off, now finished with weeding and prepared to go inside. "Thanks. For helping in the garden, I mean." you say.

Kraglin also stands. "Not a problem, ma'am."

You wince and shake you head as you turn back to the house. You thought of telling him to knock it off with the 'ma'am' stuff, but you were concerned with what might replace it. So you left it alone for now.

***

You were on alert when you got ready for your shower that evening. You knew Peter had plenty of opportunity to have tampered with your bath products, but you played it cool. Acted unaware.

The plan? Beat him at his own game.

First you turned on the shower and let it run. You cupped your hands beneath the stream to make sure the water wasn't an odd color.

All clear.

You get into the shower, deciding to inspect your shampoo and conditioner bottles first. You felt it was unlikely he'd put it in those, as it would be unlikely to have a decent enough payoff for him, but you still checked just in case. Your shampoo bottle was see-through and the liquid inside clear, so it was obvious it had gone untampered. You went ahead and used it.

Time for conditioner. Unscrewing the top you look inside the conditioner. Completely white. Untampered. Good.

Finally you checked your body wash. It was a rose scented type and was already colored pink. If he was was going to strike anywhere, it would likely be there with the red dye. You squirted a little into a rag to test it on your hip, an inconspicuous area. You didn't even need to use it before you realized you were right. The body wash came out much darker than usual. It was like he hadn't even mixed it. Actually, that's likely exactly what he did. He probably wanted to make sure as much dye got on you as possible and so just squirted it right on top. Just out of curiosity, however, you still tested it.

Yep. It left a red steak right on your hip. You catch a glance at Peter's bottle on the shower shelf, and grin.

Silly Peter. He shouldn't have forgotten his bottle in the shower. Again.

You reach out of the shower for a new washcloth, and use some of his body wash instead. Of course, not before testing it on the first rag to make sure it wasn't left behind on purpose as a trap. It wasn't. The test proved it free of dye and safe to use.

For now.

Once you finished washing you then unscrewed the top off of Peter's bottle and carefully poured in as much of the dye from the top of your tampered bottle as you could without getting it on your hands. You had to sacrifice a little of the soap down the drain just to make sure it would come out clean the next time you used it.

Was he sure to notice? Probably, but you didn't care. You'd be just as happy with the message it would deliver if nothing else.

He was going to see that you were the Prank Master here.

***

Once finished with your shower you retreated to your bedroom. On the way you could hear Peter in his room asking Gamora if she had seen his comb, and you grinned. You sure knew where his comb was.

Mantis is gathering her own stuff together to take a shower when you enter the room. You glance at what she's carrying to make sure she has enough soap. God forbid she might run out and then use Peter's instead of yours. You actually would feel bad if the prank accidentally hit her instead of Peter. Satisfied that she does you shut your door behind her and wait, unable to keep a grin from splitting your face.

Perhaps half an hour later, a good bit after Mantis had returned from her shower, you can hear Peter shouting.

"Are you KIDDING me!?"

Mantis looks towards the sound in shock before turning to see you covering your giggles with your hand.

Now you can hear Peter cursing your name.

"What did you do?" Mantis asks, both intrigued and alarmed.

"He tried to get me back for turning him blue by putting red dye in my soap. I found out and turned it back on him," you answered, nearly stuttering over your giggles.

"How?"

"I just poured the tainted soap into his bottle. Now he'll have been dyed twice." You grinned, but it fell shortly when you heard the bathroom door slam open and heard his footsteps coming in the direction of your room. You jumped up and quickly flicked the lock just before he reached the door.

The knob jiggled and then he started to pound on the door, cursing your name and demanding you come out.

Feeling cheeky, you answered, "Nobody's home!"

From the other side Peter said loudly, "Come out here, you coward!"

"Do you need something?" you ask, your grin wide.

"You. Out here. Now."

"Whatever for?" You're have a real hard time biting back your laughter. Mantis is sitting on her bed, hugging her bear and openly giggling.

"You know exactly what for!"

You look to Mantis. "Should I?" you chuckle.

"YES! You should!" answered Peter from the other side of the door.

"Didn't ask you!" you retort. You look back to Mantis and she nods excitedly. She wanted to see what had happened to Peter.

"Alright," you answer, loud enough for Peter to hear as well. You unlock the door and slowly open it.

You tried to hold it in. Honestly, you did. But the sight of Peter standing there in his pajama bottoms, and now purple where he had previously been blue, and a pinkish-red just about everywhere else you could see, you lost it.

Your laughter, combined with seeing that you didn't have a spec of dye on you, made Peter cry out in frustration. "HOW?!"

"It-It's your fault," you laughed. "You left a trail!"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "I did not leave a trail!"

"You did! I-I saw you had taken the rest of the dye and I knew what you'd do with it. Dude, you- you really should have left the box behind. I might not have noticed then." It was all you could do to say the sentence coherently as you tried to hold back your giggles. "How did you not notice I turned it around and poured it back in your bottle? Don't you look??"

As Peter sputtered indignantly for a reply you noticed that you again had an audience. Yondu and Kraglin stood at the bottom of the stairs, grinning up at the scene and shaking their heads. Rocket and Drax were standing by their room, Drax chuckling with a giggling Groot on his shoulder and Rocket almost looking impressed. Almost. Gamora was standing across the landing, shaking her head, though it appeared more out of second-hand embarrassment for Peter rather than disdain for you.

"Don't I- You- I'm- UGH!" Peter sputtered in frustration. He had half a mind to tickle you until you peed your pants for this- Well, not literally, though he wouldn't be above threatening it. He may be an asshole, but he wasn't 100% a dick. Regardless, the other half of his brain was too busy trying to think of any suitable comeback... and failing. He was The Prank Master! How were you beating him at his game? He glared at you. He wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. "You think you're so funny, don't you?! Just wait. You better watch your back. I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"You're not going to do anything, Peter." It was Gamora who spoke now, her tone teetering somewhere between warning and exhaustion, with a hint of amusement buried somewhere in there. "She beat you at your own game. Go to bed."

You couldn't stop the grin that split your face if your life depended on it. You took a calculated step back, hand resting on your door. You put on your most innocent voice. "So..." you started. "Does this mean I'm The Prank Master, now?"

The look in Peter's eyes could have vaporized you. "That's it!" he cried, stepping towards you. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he got hold of you. Hold you in a headlock until you apologized? Wet Willie? Both? Neither? Didn't matter. All he knew was you were going to pay for this.

However, he'd never get the chance. You were too fast, slamming the door in his face and flicking the lock just before he could get near.

You and Mantis doubled over laughing and Peter sputtered some more empty threats before Gamora could be heard scolding him and telling him to go to bed.

It was even better the second time.

***

The next morning you were, dare you say, cheerful.

Peter, less so. He was still a bit cranky that not only had he been the victim of the dye prank twice, just one night after the first, but that it had happened because he tried to get you back and you turned the tables on him. Sure, he had cooled down a bit from last night, but he was still an uneven purple/pinkish-red mess and the others kept snickering at him. Even Gamora had been caught hiding a grin behind her hand a couple of times.

It wasn't fair. He was determined to get you back, but how would-

He spotted something on the kitchen table, interrupting his thoughts. Something shiny, and green, and was that...?

Oh you were going to get it.

***

You were minding your own business, walking over to one of the bookcases in the sitting room, when suddenly you were accosted.

Peter had pulled you into a headlock from behind.

"Hey! What the hell! Let me go!" you demanded.

"Tell me you're sorry and I'll think about it!"

You had a feeling what this was about, but you played dumb. "I'm not going to apologize for turning the tables back around on you! It was your own fault for trying."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!"

You started softly laughing despite the moderate chokehold. You couldn't help it. "Did you- Did you ever find your comb?"

Suddenly you feel something wet in your ear. You knew there was only one thing it could be. "Ew! No! Peter!" you squeal, trying to squirm away. "That's disgusting! Stop it!"

Peter was chuckling now, still giving you a wet willie. "Say you're sorry!"

You jerk against him. "Never!" You were laughing despite really only having one hand to fight him with. The limited range on your brace made it so you couldn't bend your elbow enough to grab his arm with that hand, and you were standing too close to the bookcase to throw him over you and get out of the headlock. Well, too close to do it without hurting him, or your books, that is. You were stuck, but you still weren't going to give in.

Turns out you wouldn't need to.

"Alright. Break it up," came Yondu's voice from somewhere off to the side. "What's going on here?"

Peter released you and you rubbed your ear against your shoulder to get the wet feeling out of it. "She put my stuff in Jello!" he complained.

Yondu gave you a weird, albeit amused look. "Don't ya think ya did enough to him already, missy?" He wasn't scolding you, but he actually was surprised you were still on the attack after having seemingly won the war last night.

Fighting a grin you reply, "In my defense, I'd already done that before the dye thing. I only found out he was planning that afterwards," Technically not the full truth- you actually found out during the setup of the jelly prank, not after, but it was close enough, "and what was I supposed to do, not turn the tables back on him when I found out?"

Peter punches you in the shoulder, but there was no anger behind it, just cheekiness. You stick your tongue out at like a child in retaliation.

Yondu grinned and shook his head. It'd been awhile since he'd seen his boy carefree and goofing off like this, even if he was bickering with you like the two of you were kids. Still, he should maybe try to persuade a stop to the prank war again before things escalated any more and you two killed each other. It'd be a shame to save him from Ego just to let him die in a prank war of all things, and bad form to let him kill their host. "Boy, I think ya might need to accept that she won this round." he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I will do no such thing! She just got lucky." Peter replied.

You smirked. "Yeah. Sure. 'Lucky'," you taunt. "Just say it and I'll call us even."

"EVEN?!" Peter exclaimed. He gestured to the stained purple and pinkish red of the areas of skin you could see. "Look at me!"

Trying not to smile you slowly look down to the brace on your arm. Head cocked to the side your eyes look back to Peter. "You were saying?"

Peter bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. You could tell he wanted to retort with something, but he knew he had no leg to stand on. Eventually he settled for, "I'm still not saying it."

Yondu snorted a laugh. "Whatever it is, just be a man and say it, boy. Quit while yer ahead."

Peter looked at him indignantly. "I am not going to declare her The Prank Master."

Unable to suppress your grin any longer you nudge him in the shoulder and say in your sweetest voice, "It's ok, you don't have to say it," taking a few steps away you add, "We already know." You then jogged out of the way when he made a grab for you.

You made your way out the front door, but he didn't follow, instead just stood there pouting.

"Ya finally gonna give it up, boy? Take yer loss like a man?" Yondu chuckled, teasingly.

"Never." Peter responded, too busy plotting revenge to fully catch the "take it like a man" part as he walked out of the room.

Yondu chuckled and rolled his eyes as he went to take a seat on the sofa. It was nice to see that you had a goofy side, though he wondered if it was Peter rubbing off on you, or if you had just had it buried under layers of stubbornness and sass.

Either way, it seemed certain that the boy was gonna have to relinquish his self-proclaimed title of "The Prank Master."

***

Over the next couple days the pranks between you and Peter had slowed down. This was likely in part because of how you made Peter realize that he couldn't complain too much about getting even for the dye prank if he considered that you were still in a brace as a result from one of his previous pranks gone wrong, but also in part because the two of you had pulled so many pranks so far you were seemingly running out of ideas.

Peter moved the furniture in your sitting room 3 inches to the left, likely to get your back for putting his comb in jelly.

You retaliated by setting up some cling film up at head height in the kitchen doorway for him to walk into and then calling him into the kitchen.

He got back at you by swapping your salt and sugar out, thereby ruining what would have been a perfectly good cup of tea.

For this high crime, you decided to get him back by scrapping out a couple Oreos and filling them with toothpaste. He was most definitely not fond of that one. Called it a crime against nature, and he may have been right, but so was what he had done to your tea.

Other than that, nothing really escalated, well apart from the oreos and tea, that is. The two of you kept making little jabs at each other and annoying one another. Really bad puns, petty insults, that sort of thing.

You did assume, however, that Peter was just biding his time, trying to think of something big that he could spring on you that might make you give up the game and declare him The Prank Master, because gods knew he wasn't going to concede.

And you'd be right.

Peter spent a decent amount of time brainstorming ideas for a really good prank, or even just a decent way to annoy you, in between all the smaller ones, but he was coming up with nothing he deemed quite good enough.

He was about to consider throwing in the towel when you inadvertently provided him with the fodder he needed.

***

It was the fourth day since the first dye prank and most of the dye on Peter had worn off by now.

You were reading on the couch, little Groot was playing with the TV and flipping through random videos on the YouTube app with Drax, and Peter and Kraglin were in the middle of a card game at the table on the other side of the room.

In what you would chalk up to a cruel twist of fate, Groot managed to find his way into a video of ambulance calls.

Rudely and immediately torn from your book by the sound, your hand shoots out for the TV remote and you mute the TV, much to the dismay of little Groot, who had found the noise fun and had been cheering the siren on. As calmly as you can despite your rapid heartbeat, you ask Drax, who was confused by your behavior, to please tell Groot to find something else to watch.

Drax looks at you strangely, but translates for Groot anyway, which again, only sounded to you like he was repeating your words verbatim due to his translator. You still didn't know that the translators didn't actually translate into Groot, but rather Groot had just picked up and could understand a bit of Galactic Standard, even if he couldn't speak it.

Groots looks slightly disappointed for a second but agrees and switches videos and you unmute the TV.

You didn't bother checking what new video he had chosen. That had been a mistake.

After the ad finished playing you were jerked back into reality from your book by the sounds of now multiple ambulance calls going at once. You mute the TV once again and say, "I'm sorry. I should have been more clear. Anything else. Anything else except for videos of that sound."

Drax, rightfully confused, asks, "Why?"

"I do not like it." is all you offer, and you don't elaborate when asked.

Peter, of course, overhears all this, and thinks he's found his new way to annoy you. He of course had no way of knowing the reason you couldn't bare the sound wasn't due to annoyance. He had no way of knowing its effect on you.

***

He tested the waters the next day after lunch.

You were washing up the dishes with Gamora when the sound of an ambulance siren makes you freeze in the middle of drying a bowl.

Gamora turns her head towards the noise and wonders aloud what it was.

Without answering you take towards the direction of the sitting room to, gently, scold Groot for playing those videos again.

Of course, when you get there, you only see Peter, who pretended to be surprised to see you.

"Turn that off," you say sharply.

"What?" Peter asked innocently.

You didn't ask him again. You just grabbed the control and exited the video before throwing the control back down into his lap. "Don't play that again," you warn.

"Why? Does it annoy you?" Peter asked with a smirk. He didn't notice your hands shaking.

Your eyes hardened. "Just don't," you say, returning to the kitchen.

Peter grinned. He was going to have fun with this.

***

Peter would play that sound three more times that afternoon, each time eliciting a more irritated response from you until you finally ripped the plug to the TV out of the wall and turn to him to angrily yell, "Stop it!"

"What?" Peter asked, chuckling in surprise at your latest response. You must really hate that noise.

"You know exactly what. I'm seriously, genuinely asking you to knock it off," you reply.

Gamora, who could tell Peter was working your last nerve and who was also becoming irritated by the repeated playing of the sirens, nudged Peter and told him he had his fun.

Peter half smirked and seemed to relent, saying simply, "Okay."

You sigh. "Thank yo-"

"After you declare me The Prank Master."

Gamora rolled her eyes and propped her head up on the hand resting on the arm of the couch, not wanting to get involved, but inches from yelling at her boyfriend that she was ending the prank war herself.

You were seething. "You're a goddamn child!" you scold, leaving the sitting room and considering getting out some of the vodka you had in the freezer just to calm your nerves.

You had only just made it into the kitchen when the sound started up again.

You back against the wall and cover your face, inches from tears. Your breaths came in shallow gasps as flashes of bright lights and the sounds of tearing metal and screaming fill your senses. You tangle your hands in your hair.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" you scream.

Peter and the others in the sitting room, as well as those upstairs, all paused in shock at the sheer volume behind your scream.

They then heard the sound of the back door slamming forcefully.

Yondu, who had been at the table playing cards with Kraglin, had only been present for the second and last incidence of Peter annoying you with the sound, and it wasn't until now that he put the pieces together. That day when you acted strange and walked out on the show- this siren sound had been playing then too.

Shit.

He got up and scolded Peter, who in his shock still hadn't turned the video back off. "Turn that shit off now, boy! If I hear it again I'm gonna shove my arrow up your ass! You hear me?"

Peter, recognizing the tone in Yondu's voice as one that he had encountered many times as a child when he was in trouble, immediately switched the video off. He had to concede that perhaps he went a little too far this time, but of course he didn't actually understand just how true that sentiment was.

Yondu went to go see where you went, and he didn't need to look very far, which surprised him. He was for sure you would have taken off for the forest again, since it was kinda your thing.

Instead, you were sat with your back pressed against the stone of the house about a couple meters from the door, hand clamped over your mouth and eyes in that terrible 'wide yet unseeing' way. In the dim light provided by what shone out the kitchen windows from inside he thought he could almost see the remnants of fallen tears.

He tried to approach you slowly, but you caught him out the corner of your eye and jerked to a standing position.

"Hey, hey-" Yondu said, holding his hands up. "It's alright-" he started, but then found he didn't know what else to say. After a moment he settled on, "Ya wanna talk about what that was about?"

You don't meet his gaze. "Nothing. He just pisses me off. He's a damn child."

"While that may be true, yer still full of shit."

You glare at him.

He continues. "If this was just about Quill gettin' under yer skin ya wouldn't be shakin' like that, and I doubt you'd be crying neither."

"Am not," you mutter. You turn away, wipe your eyes, cross your arms self-consciously, and start walking away. "It's cold."

Yondu rolled his eyes. It was cool out, yes, but it wasn't that cold. "Ya wanna talk about why ya dislike the particular noise so much?" Yondu called after you. "Ya ain't got to, but I can tell somethin's eating ya. I might help to get it off your chest."

"It's nothing." you reply. "Just an annoying sound."

Yondu frowned. "Now listen here. I ain't gonna force ya to tell me, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone just flat out lie to my face, missy."

You turn to him, indignant. "I'm not-"

"Hell if ya ain't. I've seen that look before, I know what it is. Ya can lie to yerself, but ya can't lie to me!"

You glare at him. "Who the hell do you think you are? Coming in here acting like you know anything about me!"

"I'm the person telling ya that it ain't healthy to keep that shit bottled up inside ya. It'll eat ya alive."

You don't respond. Just roll your eyes and start walking away again.

Yondu threw up his hands. "To hell with you then!" He starts to walk back inside but stops at the door to speak again, this time his tone a little softer, "I have a feelin' no one's ever told ya, girl, but ya don't have to 'be strong' all the time. Sometimes it's ok to let people in. It don't make ya weak." With that he headed back in the house.

You lean your back against the cool stone and sigh in frustration. What did he know.

***

You head back inside a bit later, not feeling much better.

Peter catches you as you're about to head up the stairs. "Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for-"

"Don't." You cut him off, not stoping in your path. "I don't care. I'm going to bed."

Peter frowns, but lets you go. Maybe he could try again in the morning. He truly was sorry. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun.

***

You stared up at the ceiling from your bed for what felt like hours. You couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about it. You knew Peter had no way of knowing why you couldn't stand that sound, but you still couldn't help but be unhappy with him. He just wouldn't stop.

You can feel your jaw clenching with each flash of horrific memory.

You were annoyed at Yondu too. Acting like he knew anything about you or some shit. What did he know? Not you, that's what. You didn't need someone acting like they cared. You didn't need anyone, really. People come, people go. No one stays forever.

You feel your chest clench. Your throat tightens and you sit up. You didn't want to cry.

A walk. That's what you needed. A walk in the forest would surely help wash the memories away. You could walk until you were too tired to think about it, then sleep it off. It would be better in the morning. You'd be ok.

You quietly slip on some jeans and make your way downstairs to put on your boots and grab a jacket. Choosing your thin leather one because it had been chilly when you were out earlier, you open the back door and head out into the cool night air.

You'd find out soon enough that you should have stayed in bed.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Wicked Romance

Chapter 1

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her. 

Warning: Maybe bad writing? Hehehe forgive me. This is my first time write and posting my own fan fiction on tumblr.

############

If an outsider sees Steve, he got everything: looks, money, status. But for him, he lacks one thing; the right person to stand beside him.  

But let’s talk about how Steve became the new mob leader.

Steve got raised by his mother Sarah Rogers, it was until he retired from the military he reconnected with his father again. 

He thought his father, Joseph Rogers owns a security firm every time he visits him when he was a kid after his parents divorced. Until he reaches a certain age he realized his father actually is a mob boss. He found his childhood friend Bucky, they went to the army together, also working with his father after he got into an accident that cost his left arm. 

He owes it to his father, but Joseph doesn’t need his son to pay his debt. He only wanted his son to stay with him. Joseph has everything, but he missing two things; his lovely wife and his son. 

Joseph loves Sarah, but he forgot she doesn’t come from a mobster background. When they got married, she was overwhelmed. Looking at her husband coming home with blood on his hands or they need to stay at the safe house when she was 8 months pregnant and when Steve was baby the rival gang tried to hurt her and their son. 

Sarah admitted to Joseph that she couldn’t live like this. In the end, she asks to separated but they never divorced. Joseph never sends the document to the court. 

When Joseph retired, he decided to be honest. He went to chase his wife again. With a lot of effort the couple reunited again.

Their love story was so sweet that could make Steve’s teeth hurt. Joseph appointed Steve as the new leader while he enjoys his second honeymoon with his wife. 

It’s been 5 years since Steve became the new mob boss, now he’s waiting for the one that could help him write a sweet story like his parents. 

## 

Right now around lunchtime at the fancy that owned by Rogers. Steve and others like Bucky and Sam are sitting at the bar. While Pietro is the bartender serving their drinks. 

It's a usual day for them but it's a little bit different with Steve this time.

Steve head not looking at his food because notices someone seating near the window. She wearing a dress, not too sexy but he could see her legs. She is completely different from a woman who dressed less to get his attention. The reason is simple Steve is an attractive man, tall, broad shoulder, the expensive three-piece suit that wraps his muscles. He only sits for 3 minutes, few girls try to seduce him but he politely or in a sarcastic way to shoo them. 

And the girl who he watched for a while won’t budge to turned around. It poked his ego a little bit. He quite used to with the flirt and attention. 

“You still staring at her.”

Bucky’s words made Steve snap up from his trance. 

Steve shook his head, he couldn’t help it because he wants to see the woman face who sitting alone. 

“Pfft.”

Someone who holds his laughter. Three of them turn their gaze towards the bartender served their drink. 

“Something funny Pietro?” Steve raised his eyebrows. 

“I’m just surprised my boss lose his game before approaching Miss Lilly.”

Steve tilts his head “You knew her name?”

Pietro nodded while whipping the glass with cloth “Yup, the gorgeous lady that always left a big tip.” 

“She has become a regular?” Sam asks surprised. 

“Perhaps, it’s difficult to forget her since the first time she came here.” Pietro is a sucker for a beautiful woman. 

He put the clean glass on the shelf “The day she came here also the first day Peter Peter start his job.”

The alpha male grunted when Parker’s name mentioned. That kid is troublesome. He always late for his job and clumsy, but he’s the best chef assistant according to Wanda who the head chef at the restaurant. 

“So she’s been our customer for 5 months. How come we never notice her?” Sam whispered asking. They always come here every day for lunch and dinner. 

Pietro raised his shoulder “Usually she only stays for 10 minutes after buying one drink. Then she left. This is the first time she asks for a table.” 

After hearing the info from Pietro, Steve looking at her back once again. 

“Steve, if you don’t talk to her I will,” Sam said while moving from his seat. 

Steve stop Sam by grabbing his shoulder “I didn’t say I don’t want to.”

“Go get her punk.” Bucky raised his fist.

Steve nodded, he walks closer towards her table, he doesn’t understand why his heart beating so fast. 

He already in his game, using his usual pick-up line and smile, but before his foot stops at her table, she turns her head towards him. 

It felt like a slow-motion when he saw her looking at him. 

The first moment he looked at her eyes, somehow the time stop and world in only both of them. 

She looks at him with a friendly smile. ‘Her eyes,’ he couldn’t look away. 

“Hi…” He couldn’t believe he almost squeaked his voice. Steve could feel his face turn red like tomatoes. How he wishes, the situation could change.

‘BANG’

The loud sound came from the gun sound. The door abruptly opened by a bunch of guys who wear suits, some of them holding guns, and baseball bat, and the one who leads them is Brock Rumlow. 

Steve cursed, because of the annoying newcomer, he already lost the moment with her. But partly he blamed himself, earlier he wished to change the situation. Be careful what you wished for.

It must be his rival gang who crash his business again. This is the third time in one month. Since Brock became the new head after Pierce died. 

“Damn it.” He saw Bucky and Sam already start kicking and punching. 

He turned at her, he looks at her with puppy eyes “Forgive me for today’s distraction. You don’t have to pay. It’s free.”

Before she could reply, one guy holding a baseball bat, and swing at Steve but he able to stop it. 

“Everyone leave this place !!!” He screamed his lungs out to alarm the guest who still shocked. All of them ran to save their lives. 

Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Pietro busy fighting their rival. 

No wonder why he had bad feelings, today seems nothing could go wrong. He knew something bad will happen. Turn out it’s Rumlow. 

“What do you want Rumlow?” Steve hissed at the uninvited guest.

Brock shrugged his shoulder “Oh nothing, I just want to say hi to my rival, since I became the boss now.”

‘Because of that reason?’ Steve inwardly thought. But he knew why Rumlow did this, he want everyone to know his name since he recently got this position. And this bastard choose his place at the wrong time and the wrong place.

Both of them punches at each other and destroyed the furniture.

Brock always sneaky, he prepares a hidden knife under his sleeves aka phantom blade. 

He succeeded stab Steve’s shoulder. 

“Urgh.” But because of his muscles, it didn’t go that deep. 

Brock brings Steve to his shoulder and throws him to the ground. 

Steve landed on the ground while Brock put on a mocking smile looking down at him. 

“Boys~”

The seductive voice made both of them turn to see who it was. 

Steve widened his eyes when he saw the girl who took his breath away standing in front of them. 

When she stood, he could see she’s wearing a skirt that has a high cut on her left thigh. Steve and Brock were taken aback because under the fabric there’s a belt dagger. 

She slightly pouted which made Steve thought for a second she looks adorable. But what the hell is she doing here when he already told everyone to leave this place.

She put her right hand on her left chest “It breaks my heart seeing my favorite restaurant destroyed like this.”

Steve somehow felt happy when he knew she like his work.

She grabs the dagger and throws it to Steve. 

“I’m lending it to you.” She winked at him, and turn around to grab her coat. She headed to the exit door, easily avoided the fight.

“That’s one hot lady right there.” 

“Yeah, she is.”  Steve took the chance to give a butthead towards Brock. He doesn’t want this jerk to look at his ‘future date’. 

Brock screamed while holding his broken nose “That’s was low, I was distracted.”

“Let’s get this over with. I can’t do this all day.” Steve finally let out his rage towards Rumlow. 

####

Their fight is done with the result Steve side who won. 

“I’ll get you next time,” Brock screamed angrily, his fingers broken by Steve. He got carried by the paramedic. 

Steve wiped his bloody nose with a cloth while Bruce pressing his shoulder “Yeah yeah, just not in this place again.” He answered lazily. 

He sighed because he’s getting tired of Rumlow childish fight. After his wound got treated by Bruce, Steve went back into the restaurant. 

What he saw is a broken window, table, the custom leather chair that imported from Italy also ruined. There will be one person who will be crazy over this, Natasha who also his accountant, and Bucky’s wife. 

His shoes step on the broken glass, his eyes locking to the table where she sat. 

When he arrived he saw the book she read. Steve notice there is a bookmark inside of it. He doesn’t want to touch her touch without permission but he eager wants to see what inside. 

Steve put his hand on his mouth and gasped “Oh f**k!”

“Language you punk!” Bucky and Sam appear from behind. Their face and hands also bruised because of the short fight. 

“What’s wrong?”

They got no answer from Steve. He look like a statue still looking at his hands.

Bucky and Sam glanced at the bookmark on Steve’s hand. Both of them smirked.

’When the restaurant re-open, text me: (646)-xxxxxxxx’

Steve’s mind went back to the first time he saw her face and that beautiful smile, then the way she’s not afraid of the craziness that happens today, and she lent him a dagger so he can win. 

He didn’t think it wasn’t a thing, but it happened to him. 

He fell in love at the first sight. 

“We totally lose him.” Sam waves his hand in front of Steve’s eyes. 

They could see Steve on cloud nine right now. 

“Good for him, maybe he could move on this time,” Bucky murmured. 

Sam pointed one critical point “But first of all, we need to tell your wife about today.” 

Bucky sighed “That’s the difficult part.” 

While his friends busy thinking about how to coaxing Natasha so she won’t stun them with the lecture that could last for the whole day and make their ear hurts, Steve is planning how to renovate the restaurant fast so he could text her.

>>>CHAPTER 2

Taglist:

@cloudystevie​

[fandomficsnstuff]

Little Dragon - Part 9

Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.

(Warnings: a bit of Dothraki which will be written in bold, also, the tiniest hint of a possible future ~romance~)

High Valyrian is in cursive

You giggled as you flew besides Drogon, Daenerys’ on top of him, heading back towards Dragonstone. Daenerys had suggested flying together, since she knew how much you loved it, and besides, she loved it herself. As you landed near Dragonstone you couldn’t help but feel a certain freedom, one you knew Daenerys felt as well.

You sighed as your feet hit the ground, and you moved to Rhaegal’s face, your hand running along his neck all the way and you gently placed it above his nose, leaning your forehead against his nose tip for a moment before letting him fly off with Drogon. You walked with Daenerys back to Dragonstone, parting ways by your room as she continued down the hall, possibly to her own room.

As you got inside of your room you saw Missandei standing near a hot bath and you grinned widely “Missandei” you greeted and she spun around, hiding something behind her back as she bowed her head “Princess” you walked closer “what are you hiding?” You watched as Missandei pulled a small, but detailed, wooden figure of a girl, and the closer you looked, the more it resembled you, making you grin even more. “One of the Dothraki made it, he was young, a bit older than you, a few years maybe, but he said that he hoped to live long enough to see you and your mother on the throne, he asked me to give it to you”, you looked up at her with tears in your eyes, still grinning. “You inspire a lot of love, Princess (Y/N), just like your mother” you nodded as you wiped away a few tears that had spilled over the corners of your eyes “did he really say ‘throne’?” Missandei laughed “no, he said ‘iron chair’, I see your mother told you that the Dothraki have no word for ‘throne’” you nodded at her words as you took the small figure from her, it really looked like you, but not like in a dress, it was the clothes you had on when you rode Rhaegal, he must have seen you in it and remembered “she did… where is he, the Dothraki who made this?” Missandei smiled gently at you “I can show you, but after your bath, before the water gets cold” you nodded, putting the figure on your night stand before returning to the tub “of course, thank you, Missandei” she smiled and left your room so you could undress and bathe in peace.

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After your bath you had changed into a dress, it was one out of thick material, to keep out the cold, but it was comfortable all the same, it was (Y/F/C), a small dragon pin on your chest, symbolizing your mother’s house, and your own now, your shoes were also warm and thick, but still fit enough to walk on the sand, which you currently were. You watched Missandei point out the Dothraki who had made the small wooden figure, sitting on a stone along with a few other Dothraki, no more than five, scattered on the beach. This Dothraki was handsome, he had the same copper-tones skin as all the other Dothraki but a different glow to it, the same almond shaped eyes that stood out anyway, but he was different, he was younger, so his hair and beard had no real length to it, his curly black hair rested on his head like the rest of them, but you’d somehow be able to see him even in a crowd of Dothraki he was obviously tall, you couldn’t be sure of what physique but he seemed lean, he was leaning his elbows on his knees, a knife in his hand and a rock in the other, he was sharpening his knife. His black coal eyes found yours and you swore, on your life, that you saw a hint of blush on his cheeks as she quickly looked away again, trying to act like he hadn’t seen you. You approached with an amused smile, walking straight up to him, forcing him to look at you without touching him, and your smile somehow grew as your eyes locked, you watched him quickly stand up and try to bow as he had seen the Unsullied and others do but it didn’t go over well, which you didn’t mention, but the fact that he tried made feel weird inside.

You didn’t know how much of the common tongue he spoke, and you didn’t know that much Dothraki, so instead you showed him the small figure, grinning when you saw his eyes widen in realisation, “I am very happy for this” you knew there was no word for thank you in Dothraki, so it was the best you could do, but he seemingly understood you as she grinned himself “good, but I did not know the lady would tell you that it was me who made it” he spoke a bit too fast but you still understood most of what he said, his voice wasn’t as deep as some of the other Dothraki, but then again, he was young, “I asked” you gave a light shrug, enjoying the way he seemed to be shy around you, not at all how you imagined a Dothraki would act up close, but then again, you had heard from Daenerys of Khal Drogo, her husband, and how gentle he could be with her when no one else was around.

“What is your name?” you did your best, but Dothraki had not been one of the languages you had not focused on, sadly, and now you cursed your younger self for not paying more attention.

“Ezzo”

“Ezzo…” you tasted the name on your tongue, it gave you a warm feeling saying it, and it made you smile brightly up at him, and after a while you realized that you had stared, making you blink and quickly look down, blushing red. “I-I hope my Dothraki is understandable enough, I’m afraid that I never paid enough attention when my teacher tried to teach it to me” you knew, you just knew that it sounded awful, but glancing up you only saw his smile “I think you sound beautiful” you grinned widely at him, about to say something else when out of the corner of your eyes you saw an Unsullied soldier approaching, making you turn your head to him, it was one you knew, not well, but you knew his name, his name was Grey Curse, just thinking about it made you wince, so you never spoke it out loud.

“Princess (Y/N), her Grace is asking for you, Missandei said you might be here” you nodded and looked back at Ezzo, who had no idea what was being said “I have to go... “ you said in a sad voice, making Ezzo frown but nod all the same, almost like he expected you to just go right then and there, but you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned up and gave him a peck on his cheek, a quick one, you barely noticed it yourself. You couldn’t help the grin you had on your lips the whole way to the map room where Daenerys and all the rest were waiting for you. Daenerys raised her head to look at you, about to say something but seeing your grin she froze, narrowing her eyes at you and smirking ever so slightly “want to tell me why you are so happy?” she spoke High Valyrian, mainly because she wanted a bit more privacy, even though she knew that Missandei, Varys and Grey Worm could understand her, but both Varys and Grey Worm were good at pretending not to hear her, however Missandei smirked amused at the scene unfolding before her “no reason, why are we speaking Valyrian, mother?” you shrugged, making Daenerys scoff amused at you “I just got ready to scold you for being late, but seeing you this happy, I’ll hold it off, for now” you knew she was just being playful, it was in her tone, and both Varys and Missandei couldn’t help the tiny smile that forced it’s way onto their lips, hearing their Queen’s words, but quickly shook it off as Daenerys turned back to face the map carved into the table.

“So, you were saying?” all of you looked back to Tyrion who nodded and resumed talking about his plan to sent the Unsullied to Casterly Rock, but for some reason, your mind were stuck on the beach, standing with a tall Dothraki, who’s curly hair was like a crown, resting gently on his head, his eyes black as coal but still warm, and you kept thinking of his name, Ezzo, you wondered what it meant. Ezzo, maybe it meant kindness, or maybe it meant strength, or courage, or maybe it meant handsome, if so then it’d certainly fit. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed the map room clearing, all but Daenerys, who smirked at you with amusement “so” she began, snapping you out of your day dream, you eyes locking with hers and instantly you blushed, looking down and fiddling with the wooden figure you still had in your hand, something that Daenerys easily noticed, “who made that?” you let her take it from your hands, letting her study it with a warm smile “a Dothraki” her head instantly snapped to yours, making you realize what she feared “he’s very sweet,” you quickly assured, seeing her visibly relax, of course she trusted her army, but Dothraki was not known for being gentlemen, she knew this very well, better than most “his name is Ezzo… Missandei said she saw him carve it and he asked her to give it to me” you continued, taking back the small figure as you looked at it fondly “I wanted to thank him so Missandei brought me to him, I’m sorry I lost track of time” when you finally raised your head to meet her gaze, you saw nothing but warmth and joy, a small smile resting on her lips “well, I’d very much like to meet this, Ezzo” a part of you began to grow nervous, what if she didn’t like him? You knew she loved you and only wanted what was best for you, but you also knew that although she had not birthed you, you were her daughter, her only living human child, and you knew that no matter what, a dragon would protect it's young, with fire and blood if need be.

[consumeconstantly]

Lady Cross (first aid)

Summary: Somehow, Marinette always ends up biting off more than she can chew. It started off with a kid and a nasty gash on their knee. The sudden escalation to treating the new head of Gotham’s underworld? It can only be explained by the fact that she’s catnip for trouble. 

_____________________________________________

Marinette supposed she should have expected something like this to happen eventually.

Really, she patches up a few street kids and offers a meal and some resources and suddenly she's made a name for herself in the slums of Gotham. It’s not like she’s doing anything revolutionary. Well, okay, maybe she does cheat a little bit and uses her healing powers on a few of the tougher cases that really should have been out of her realm of expertise, but she’s living near the slums of Gotham for a reason. That reason being Marinette is just a little broke and can’t really afford to send everyone she comes across to the hospital, and the people who are injured certainly can’t. It’s not like she can leave them to die. That would be heartless.

When she stopped treating scrapes and cuts for kids on the streets as she came across them and instead found her apartment balcony frequented by families who needed her help, she couldn’t just say no. And so, more and more serious wounds started coming in. Kids brought their parents and friends. The parents and friends brought... well, if the police stopped by her apartment any time soon, she’s fairly certain they’d have a field day.

But again, it’s not like she’s going to turn these people into the police when they’ve come to her for help and have a small army of people who swear up and down that they’re good people and only doing what they have to do in order to get by.

Morality comes in such a variety of shades, who was she to judge? Ladybug and Marinette have both certainly had their fair share of mistakes that they’d gladly go back in time to rectify, and her hands weren’t clean of blood either. Sure, the Miraculous Cure may have brought people back, but their deaths were still on her. And Hawkmoth? Yeah, he’s alive now, but she hammered him into the pavement after dropping him from the top of the Eiffel tower, and she’s not going to pretend that she didn’t take a bit of morbid joy in that moment.

But back to the matter at hand. Which was, the notorious Red Hood—responsible for a coup amongst Gotham’s drug dealers and responsible for taking down a man whose morality truly vanished with the wind, Black Mask himself— was currently bleeding out on her second floor balcony, smoking a cigarette and lounging against the rail like he owned the place. 

“Lady Cross,” he inclined his head.

“Red Hood,” Marinette returned his greeting.

God, she really didn’t want to get involved with Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to helping out street thugs and criminals, but Red Hood was a different league. He seemed to be a fairly decent guy, ensuring that kids weren’t dealt drugs and tried to keep them out of the circuit as much as possible. He took down plenty of worse criminals while he was at it. In fact, Marinette would go so far to say the Red Hood as one the good guys.

But the issue was, once she started treating people of a certain level, she’d be open game. And that didn’t seem very enticing to her. Not at all. Everyone knew that Red Hood had beef with the Bat Family for some reason or other, and also made enemies with almost every single rogue in Gotham, and a good number of enemies outside of it as well. Basically, Red Hood was a universal enemy of both the vigilantes and rogues. Someone she shouldn’t get involved with while she was trying to investigate the darkness surrounding Gotham whole running her online boutique and going to college at Gotham University.

Unfortunately, Tom and Sabine and her own stint as Ladybug taught her that she could never ignore someone in need. Marinette sighed and slid the mesh open, leading Red Hood to her living room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Real nice place you got here,” he said.

With the mask covering the whole of his face, Marinette had no facial expressions to figure out whether he was poking fun at her current living situation or not. His voice sounded genuine, but vocal emotions were easy to fake.

The apartment she was living in was not on the nice side of town. There were three bullet holes in the wall between her living room and bedroom that she just didn’t have time to patch up, some pretty nasty looking stains on the ceiling near her kitchen, and a huge, spray painted red cross on one of her walls, which was where her street name derived from. Her floor and coffee table were also in states of disarray; she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clean up after working on two commissions and the last guest whose wounds were heavy enough to warrant several rolls of gauze, which was now half stuffed into a garbage can sitting next to rolls of fabric. Perhaps not the neatest or most sanitary situation, but she didn’t have time to clean up before every single one of her unexpected guests came in.

Look, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have time to fix things up real nice and neat. She’d only been living in the apartment for a month and a half, and most times, she barely spent any time in it other than to sleep, cram last minute projects for her design course, or to help heal people. Her living situation wasn’t the biggest of worries.

“Sit,” Marinette gestured to the one of the few pieces of furniture that she specifically bought for the apartment. She didn’t mind the stained, half broken, and extremely creaky couch the last owners left behind for the first week, but after she started bringing back her first… visitors, it seemed important that the couch was comfortable, sturdy, and most crucially, cleanable.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she pulled out a tattered briefcase she thrifted a while back to keep all of her medical supplies in. Not the prettiest of things, but she tried not to keep expensive looking items in her apartment because she wasn’t a fan of getting mugged. The medicine she kept was already expensive enough, she didn’t need to attract everyone’s attention by owning one of those metal containers used in hospitals. Even though most of the people who dropped by her apartment were thankful to be treated, she had a few instances where people tried to steal things from her.

“What’s the damage, doc?” Red Hood’s voice came through rather tinny through his helmet. 

Marinette grimaced. The helmet must have awful air circulation. It looked like some sort of metal, and wet and metal never smelled good together. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Thought you were supposed to be some mystic healer who came from the far east.”

She paused and looked at the man, trying to judge whether he was racist as well as rude. “That’s rather insulting.” 

Red Hood shrugged. Marinette applauded the man for showing no outward sign of pain at that, even though there was a bullet embedded in his shoulder, and shrugging had to bite. “That’s what the word on the street is, though you sound French to me. Thought I’d come and check out who’s healing Gotham’s criminals. What’re you planning?”

“Sorry to foil your plans, but I’m not planning anything other than getting my college degree and not pissing off the people I live near.” She paused, flipping the lock on the briefcase upwards. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me as your go to healer from now on. You’re going to bring trouble my way.”

“Trouble? Me? Perish the thought.” His hand rested comfortably on the holister of his gun, ready to shoot if the girl pulled out a weapon from the briefcase. “We’ll talk about repeat appearances after I see how you do today.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Any wounds other than the obvious?”

“Just need the bullet out, and some stitches on the gash.” His shoulder and his abdomen, respectively. The gash looked nastier than the bullet; no shrapnel, but the cut on his stomach was jagged and wide. Not a normal, sharp blade. Probably needed a good cleaning.

She grabbed the tweezers, a sterilized needle, and medical thread. “That’s fine. Now are you going to undress, or am I going to have to cut your… costume… up?”

“Getting me naked already? We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Very funny, little Red Riding Hood. Now hop to it. I have class at 9 tomorrow and projects to finish tonight.” Somehow, trouble always seemed to find her when she least wanted it to. Not that she wanted to have trouble find her at all, but luck was a two way street, and for all that being Ladybug granted her good luck, she attracted criminals like catnip. 

“And here my informants had me thinking you were a regular Florence Nightingale.”

Marinette snorted. “They wish. I’ve got to ask who told you, because everybody should know the rules. You know, the ones where they don’t speak of my existence to their higher ups?”

“I’m not a rat,” Red Hood said, taking the top part of his outfit off. “And it’s not like you would have gone unnoticed anyways. You might be treating small timers now, but people catch on to healers pretty easy.”

“Because some gauze and sewing skills make me such a prime target.”

“No, your magic does.”

Shit. Marinette never told anyone she was using magic, and she rarely used it unless it was a dire situation. If she could patch them up using regular skills, she did. 

“Yeah right, if I had magic healing powers, do you think I’d be shoving my fingers into your shoulder to get a bullet out?”

“Not a very good liar, Lady Cross. You have this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about you.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’m also the deer that tramples through your windshield and takes a dump on the driver’s seat.” She maneuvered the tweezers a little rougher, hoping to make Red Hood hiss in pain. He just chuckled, amused. His high pain tolerance was getting rather annoying. She had half a mind to pour hydrogen peroxide over the wound just to see if that would make him show he was in pain, but thought better of it. Even though she didn’t like the man, she also didn’t want to piss him off. Or worse, have him come back and make her fix him up again. 

Threading the needle, she made quick, small stitches on his shoulder, sewing the bullet hole up, then put some petroleum jelly to speed up the healing process and reduce scarring. At least the wound was in a position that didn’t require a lot of gauze. She needed to go out and buy some more soon. She barely had enough to wrap around Red Hood’s waist.

“So, the magic,” Red Hood started. “Is it a conditional thing? Can you not use it all the time?”

“Again, I don’t have magic.” Marinette did have to use some antibacterial on the knife wound. He would need to take good care of that one to make sure it didn’t get infected. 

“So a meta, then. What are you doing in Gotham? Everybody knows Batman hates metas.”

“Not a meta, either, sorry to disappoint.” She tied off the gauze, then stood to wash her hands. “Make sure to clean the stomach wound well. Hope you have your tetanus shot, otherwise you should look into getting one.”

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to believe you on the not-a-meta thing. Back to the first thing, then. Magic. Why don’t you show me the old razzle dazzle? Do you have to say one of those weird spells like the godmother in Cinderella? Bibbity bobbity boo?”

“You’re hilarious,” Marinette dead panned. 

“How’s this for magic? Bibbity bobbity boo, kindly leave. Shoo.” She followed his suggestion, made a show of jazz hands as well. “Pity I don’t use magic otherwise you’d be gone now. Anyways, it’s time for you to make your exit. It would be great if you didn't visit me again. Ever. Thanks.”

She ushered him out onto her patio, then slammed the sliding door. He saluted her before dropping off the side of the building. She could imagine the man under the helmet smirking.

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

[descendantofthesparrow]

Queen - Uma x Harry Hook x reader - songfic oneshot

=

Cross my heart and hope to die

I don't need another guy

To fight my battles, to overshadow me

Don't ya know I'm dangerous?

Fire burnin' in my blood

I got this handled, I don't need rescuin'

Being the daughter of Aurora and King Phillip was tough, or at least tougher than others thought it would be.

Always sit up straight, never slouch, never sit with your legs apart, never curse, never lash out, always be kind, always smile, never spit, Never show blemishes, never be over a certain weight.

Always be perfect

….then again….those were the expectations of the granddaughter of Leah, mother of Aurora.

Your parents had different expectations.

Now how to protect yourself, know how to wield a sword, know how to shoot an arrow, know how to fight on horseback, know when to strike and when to stand back, know when to act like a lady and when to act like a knight.

Be sad, be angry, be happy, be snarky, be you.

Luckily you had never stuck on your grandmother's teachings as your sister did. you had grown in your father's teachings of the sword.

As the younger daughter of Phillip and Aurora, your grandmother paid less attention to you, since she was paying attention to Audrey, who had prince Ben at her side, the awaiting heir to Auradon.

You relished in the time you had away from the aging spiteful EX-queen.

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want, I'ma show you

I'ma show you

You tried to help your sister grow her confidence within the family to step away from your grandmother, but Audrey was deep in her claws, unable to break away from the poison.

It hurt watching your sister, once the brightest girl to be around, slowly become a snake, sneering behind backs and teasing those who didn’t “match” up to her.

You hoped one day that she could break free of your grandmother's influence.

Though during the point the first four vks came along, you saw the sliver of the sister you once knew, when Ben “broke up” with her.

She had come to your room after the game, crying her eyes out, jumping into your arms, and sobbing her heart out to you.

“i-I thought we were-I thought” she had cried, burying her face into your shoulder.

While you held no grudge against Mal for her mother's actions against your own (unlike your grandmother), you weren’t on the best terms with Mal for a while after that.

During cotillion, your sister had gone off with your fairy godmothers, while you stayed behind to help Jane plan for the grand event. Uma, the daughter of Ursula, had caught your attention as she appeared.

She had spelled Ben to free the children still on the isle, you mentally commended her on her act, through the way she went about it was a bit interesting and too similar to Mals way of doing things that it left a bad taste in your mouth.

Though it got the job done, with the documents for another 4 vks to come to Auradon being worked on soon after cotillion.

How to treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

Uma's face had been…interesting as you found her on the western shores of Ursula’s strait, holding food and a bundle of warmer clothes for her.

“why?” Uma had asked, shrugging on the dark blue hoodie and crossing her arms, staring down the box of warm food in your hands.

“because it will be cold the next few nights, and I'm not going to let you starve if I can help it” you responded, face blank as you held out the food to her.

She started at you for a moment, before nodding, taking the food and slowly eating it, before her eyes brightened and she soon devoured the entire meal.

You smiled and handed her a map of the surrounding area “be safe, there is a cave that keeps away the ocean draft and hardly ever gets cold or wet.

Uma watched you with curious eyes as you walked away that night, surprised after each day when you continued to return to her spot, holding new clothes and food for her.

Within the next year and a half, you and Uma had grown close, telling you of her boys, Harry Hook, and Gil, her best friends and those whom she trusted with her deepest secrets and life.

You decided you would try to convince Ben to get Uma's boys off.

Vk day came around the corner, Uma listening as you told her the new vks that would be coming to Auradon.

She brightened a bit as the Smee twins came up.

“Skipper and Sterling, good, Harriet probably made them sign up, otherwise they would have never tried.”

“do you think Harry and Gil will sign up?”

“dunno, probably, to find me at least, but I know Mal and her goons would never choose them, as long as they are loyal to me, Mal sees them as her enemy”

You hummed, remembering Mal's insistence on the search for Uma. The irony that one of their own was helping hide a villain.

“then let's hope one of the other ones can look past Mal's rivalry with you and let others look on to a new path”

Uma snorted, shaking her head “Evie would be the only one to do that, Mals boys, especially Jay, are too wrapped up in her delusions”

You sighed and nodded, crossing your arms as you stared across the moonlit sea at the smog-covered isle. “well figure something else out then” Uma grinned at you.

“optimistic aren’t you?”

You grinned back “someone has to be”

Only three days later, as you were running late to Janes birthday and after hearing about your sister's sleeping spell, you grabbed your sword that had been enchanted by your godmothers, the same enchantments as your father's sword, and ran out to look for any sign of your sister or the vks. you came across sleeping bodies just outside the dorms, looking around with wide eyes you hovered above a sleeping student, waving your hand in their face and snapping.

“Audrey what did you do” you whispered, leaning back and crossing your arms, looking around the courtyard.

“they’re asleep” you perked up and spun around, seeing the vks entering through the opposite pathway of the garden. “all of them” Evie looked around with worried eyes, her mouth dropping open in a gasp as she saw you “(y/n)!” she yelled, running towards you at surprising speed considering her heels “you're awake!”

“y-yeah?” you yelped, wrapping your arms around her as she slammed into you “why wouldn’t I be?”

“well” Evie stuttered “Audrey-the scepter-she-nevermind, im glad you’re okay!” you nodded slowly, peeking around Evie and spotting a snickering Uma.

You rose your brow at her and she shook her head, nodding towards the two taller boys looking around the courtyard.

One was taller, with dark-colored hair and a long dark red vest-jacket, black faded and worn pants with black boots and a silver hook in his left hand. Harry Hook, son of Captain James Hook, Uma's first mate.

The other was a slightly shorter teen male with longer blonde hair hidden by a dark orange cap, a short-sleeved leather shirt, and dark orange-yellow pants with dark brown boots. Gil, son of Gaston, her quartermaster.

Her boys.

The darker haired one, Harry, turned to you, locking his bright Blue eyes with yours, you felt a shock run through your body, your breath stopping as you stared into his eyes.

Harry felt his breath stop, watching as the girl with alluring (e/c) eyes stared back at him. He couldn’t look away, something holding him in place.

“guys!” Harry felt the hold release as the girl looked away and to Evie, who was gesturing to a statue of a girl in a band uniform "Hanna got turned to stone!”

So treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

Mal had taken over the group, ordering to head to Bens castle to look for him. You walked silently beside Uma as you traveled on foot to the castle, too occupied in your thoughts to notice Harry continue to stare at you.

He couldn’t figure out why and how you somehow stopped him in his tracks, unable to breathe or move.

The only other person that had done that to him…was Uma.

“Ben!” Mal called out, worried eyes flying about the hallways “Ben!!”

“he might not be here Mal” you offered, raising your brow as Celia sighed and tossed in other (depressing) option.

“or turned to stone” Evie covered the young girl's mouth and shook her head.

Eyes on me like I'm a prize

But you better recognize

I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me

Uma frowned at the slashes across the wall, following the slash with her hand and calling out to the group “hey!” Uma turned, pointing a the slashes that had destroyed the map hanging on the wall “What's this?”

“um” Carlos muttered, his eyes widening in fear, as walked over to the slashes and turned to mal “any chance this was here before?”

Mal bit her lip and shook her head a bit, continuing forward after dude, calling out for ben.

“Ben!” she opened a set of double doors, leading to a room of knights lining the walls “Ben?!”

Harry let out a whistle and stepped around you, walking towards a suit and trailing his fingers across the blade. Jay leaned towards him, whispering in his ear, sneering at the pirate.

Harry just smirked and walked off after Uma.

You followed close behind Uma, feeling something off about the room, like someone was watching you.

As Mal and Uma argued,  you and Harry glanced at each other as the knight in front of you started to move, you squinted at the pink smoke pouring from its helmet.

“guys?”

“I believe we’re being challenged” Harry tried, Uma holding up her hand to silence him.

“Let's split up and look for Audrey” Uma suggested, raising her brows as mal denied it and held out her hand. “that makes absolutely no sense, unless you give me the ember she's going to spell you!”

You and Harry pressed your lips together and looked at each other with wide eyes as the knight moved again “GUYS!” you yelled, gesturing to the knight as the girls jumped and looked at you.

“we ‘ave a bit of a situation ‘ere” Harry growled, glaring up at the empty suit of armor that began to move as if it was being worn.

“you like a prince mal? Well, how bout a knight in shining armor….or knights”

You can call me a princess all you like

'Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain't what I want, I'ma show you

I'ma show you

You quickly backed away, Uma holding onto your arm as you ran towards the doors when two knights blocked the way, Celia standing behind them eyes wide with fear.

You groaned and turned, spotting a set of swords on the wall. You maneuvered around Jay and Mal and grabbed them, handing them to Evie and Carlos as you backed into the group, eyeing down the knights.

“Let's do this” you muttered, gasping as Harry stepped in front of you and pushed you back. “stay back princess, wouldn’t want yeh getting hurt” you felt your brow twitch in agitation, but ignored him, watching the knights as they surrounded you. Uma hopped down beside you and Harry, smirking at the knights, waving her fingers tauntingly.

You sighed and drew your sword, feeling the enchantments run through the hilt. You took a step forward, making Harry twitch, and in blinding speed, you knocked several helmets off the knight's heads, the suits crumbling to the floor with a loud crash.

“Did anybody else forget that (y/n)s a genius with a sword?” Carlos chuckled, watching as you took down three more knights with only a sidestep and a flourish of your sword.

“huh?” Harry asked, yelping as a hammer swiped at his head, Jay appearing behind it and striking its shoulder, sending it to the side.

“she takes more after her dad doesn’t she?” Jay supplied, grabbing Harry's arm and forcing him to his feet, blocking another swipe as Harry nodded behind him.

How to treat me like a queen (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

You glanced at Uma, who was being held down by four knights, and bolted over to her, half leaping in the air and drawing your sword down, slashing through the metal of their arms like butter and colliding into Uma and half dragging her across the room, looking back at the knights as Audrey's scream of frustration rang through the room.

“holy shit” Uma muttered in your ear, grabbing your shoulder to stabilize herself “how come you never told me you could do this shit?” “you never asked” you laughed, flipping your sword and turning, smirking at the knights who were trying, and failing, to sneak up behind you.

“still would have been nice to know” Uma snorted, running around you and slashing at one of the knights, backing away and behind you as you ran forward and swung your sword around, slicing off their helmets, side flipping as the crashed to the ground.

“Uma?” Harry panted, sliding next to her and smiling at you, who was blocking another knight from slashing at Evie. “can we keep her?”

Uma laughed and nodded “yes, yes we can keep her”

“awesome” Harry breathed, biting his lip, watching you spin on your heel and unarm a knight before spinning into a squat, slashing off their knees and smirking as they crashed to the ground.

So treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

You pouted and kicked the boot of a fallen knight, all that fight only for them to be defeated by a simple spell and some dance moves.

The boring way to end a battle if anyone asked you.

You sighed and cracked your neck, sheathing your sword and walking over to the squabbling VKs. “what's next?” you asked aloud, rolling your eyes as Mal assumed you were talking to her.

“we’re going to the museum to look for any clues”

“there's no point to that though! We know it's Audrey who took the crown and scepter, logically we should go to her room or something and look for any clues there!” Uma pushed, gritting her teeth as Mal shook her head.

“Mal” you sighed, dropping your shoulders “you don’t want to hear this but Uma's right, going to the museum is pointless unless we're going for the wand or something, I say us girls go to Audrey's and the boys look for ben”

Uma nodded, staring Mal down, who glared back. Evie clapped her hands together, making the two jump “that sounds perfect, lets meet at my place in, two hours okay?”

The rest of the group nodded, you walked up to Celia and gently pushed her to start moving as the vks started waling out of the room to set on their missions.

Harry glanced back at you as he walked alongside Gil, watching as Uma turned to you and whispered something, smirking as your shoulders bounced.

He turned back sighing as he listened to the dog talk.

Yeah

You can call me a princess all you like

‘Cause you love to keep me helpless by your side

But that ain’t what I want, I’ma show you

You walked alongside Uma and Harry as they separated from the other vks to look for Celia and Gil. “you coming with us or something lass?” Harry asked aloud, raising his brows as you shook your head.

“no, I’ll help you find Gil and Celia and then help you get where you need to go, then I’ll come back to help my sister get her head back, that scepter is warping her mind and I won't lose her” you stated, voice strong with conviction.

Uma and Harry glanced at each other before Uma turned to you, going to speak when Mal suddenly ran up, yelling out Uma's name.

“uma-uma! Wait! Please wait!” Uma glared at the purple-haired girl as she skidded to a stop “I need your help, we have a chance if we work together!”

Uma sneered at her “your friends kick you to the curb?” Mal's face said it all “good”

“Ben saw something in you, and-today Uma I saw it too! You care! Uma, you care about everybody!” Uma rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and staring at Mal blankly “and Auradon is worth saving!”

“and my sister isn’t?” you sneered, Mal suddenly turned to you “you know what the scepter is like, it poisons the mind Mal, it's taken over my sister, and because of you, I might not get her back, because of you, she turned to something dark to get revenge…You know” you cocked your hip, glaring at the wide-eyed Mal

“she never got an apology from you or Ben, you love spelled Ben for the wand, had him “break up” with Audrey by declaring his “love” for you, do you know how many nights I spent with Audrey, holding her in my arms because she couldn’t sleep she was crying so hard, crying so hard she threw up?

You are not the only one with feelings Mal, Audrey did love ben, my grandmother screwed up what love meant to Audrey but she did love him, and you took that away and never apologized. So you know what Mal” you got in her face, glaring into her shiny green eyes “you deserve whatever Audrey does to you, and when I get back, I will save Audrey myself, because it seems I'm the only one who actually fucking cares about her”

You shoulder checked Mal and walked off, Mal desperately calling your name. “you talk pretty….but they’ve already made up their minds” Harry sighed, following Uma as she pushed past Mal and followed after you.

How to treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

You grinned at Uma as she walked across the bridge from the isle to Auradon, Harry, and Gil at her side.

“Welcome to Auradon Uma” you laughed as Uma leapt into your arms, spinning her around for a moment to keep your balance “officially at least” Uma rolled her eyes as she pulled back, taking your hand and pulling you off to dance, Harry, following close behind.

“yeah yeah, thanks for everything by the way”

You hummed, raising your brow “for giving me food, clothes, all that stuff for the past year”

“so yer the one who took care of the cap’n all this time huh?” Harry asked, looking to Uma for confirmation.

“I guess?” you shrugged, smirking as Mal turned to you with wide eyes “uh I think Mal heard that one?”

“who cares” Uma chuckled, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward her, Harry following her lead and grabbing your other hand “care to dance with us pirates princess?”

“it would be my pleasure” you bowed, giggling as Harry spun you and held you to his side, Uma laughing along and letting him spin her with his other hand.

So treat me like a queen (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Boy, you better bow down on your knees

Can I get a "Yes, your majesty"?

-end-

permtaglist

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​ @lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​ @musicarose​

@imtryingthisout​ @remembered-license​

@random-thoughts-003​ @verboetoperee​

[diavolosthots]

DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 9

READ CHAPTER 8 HERE

Authors Note: whats popping I'm back. Sorry it took so long. 😅 I have no clue if that's the same gif i used before whoops. Also I hope you enjoy "Brain-Wrecker3002" the best console in the Devildom. So bare with me and Mario kart. Just do it for the sake of the story.

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Diavolo x Reader, Leviathan, Barbatos

Diavolo wasn’t kidding when he said he had set up a gaming room. You had yet to know all of the castle’s layout, but you were certain that this was one of the biggest ones. “For me?” You questioned, not necessarily intending for it to be said out loud. “For everyone, but I imagine you will be spending quite a lot of time here, My Lady.” Barbatos seemed too nice, as always, but you didn’t have time to worry about it. You were staring at a gigantic screen half the size of the wall. Red cushioned floor beds were made into seating areas with snacks and drinks right beside each one. Consoles for days, both from the human realm and the Devildom itself, along with games that you both loved and couldn’t wait to try, “this is amazing.” Honestly, your jaw was on the floor and you had to look around the room one more time to make sure it was real. Barbatos chuckled behind you, but excused himself for duties soon after, and for a while, you just stood there in the massive room. 

Although amazement seethed through your body, you had to take this opportunity and realize that you were finally alone and not locked up in his room. You weren’t going to be completely alone, no, but you were going to be with an outsider, and Leviathan nonetheless. Of course, none of this meant the coast was clear, and you were almost certain that Barbatos, and or Diavolo, were watching you, somehow, someway. You needed to be smarter than them. You needed to find a way to tell Leviathan something without them noticing, or at least noticing right away. 

“(Y/N)?” You jumped at the voice, turning to see Levi standing there with Barbatos, who was still smiling way too casually. “Levi!” Happiness ran through you and you immediately ran toward him, engulfing him in a humongous hug that had him stumbling back before he caught you. Of course, it was very awkward, for him anyway, but especially with Barbatos just standing there and it took every fiber in your being to pull away and not stick to him like glue. “I missed you.” It was an honest sentence; you did miss him. Actually, you missed everyone, and even if it was Mammon coming to visit, you really wouldn’t have minded at this point. “I… missed you too…” Awkward as ever. You laughed softly, nudging his arm when his cheeks started to become darker than the seating area of the room. “I will leave you two alone, then.” Barbatos bowed, slowly exiting the room. 

Both of you stood there for a moment, staring at each other but keeping silent in fear of Barbatos coming back. “So… what do you think of this room?” Honestly, it wasn’t until now that the so called hardcore Otaku third-born has had a chance to really look at it, but just like you, his jaw dropped in amazement and he immediately ran around looking at everything, “You have this?! And you didn’t invite me sooner?!” “W-Well---!” “Oh my Lord Diavolo, you have the new brain-wrecker3002!! Why didn’t you tell me?!” you tried to explain several more times that you only found out about this room today, but Levi was more excited than a little kid and honestly who are you to deny him these simple pleasures? “If you ask nicely, I’m sure Diavolo would let you take it.” 

A loud gasp erupted from within him, his hands immediately holding onto your shoulders, “You think?!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction; he was more excited than a little boy during Christmas and yes, it was cute. “Yes. Maybe. I’m sure he can get another one. Doubt he would miss it. But come on! As much as I love to hear you nerd out, let’s actually play something.” Of course, that was the keyword he looked for; play. You still pondered how you were going to tell Leviathan anything without it being too obvious, or at least in a way that took anyone else a while to figure out. “Levi… Let’s play Mario Kart.” Confusion strung across his face, “what? You have all these amazing games and you want to play Mario Kart?” You nodded, smiling softly as to hide the seriousness of why you would want to play it. In your mind, it made sense. In your mind, it would work out. And in your mind, Leviathan would catch on sooner or later, hopefully at least. “Yes. I want to play Mario Kart, you know? Take a trip down memory lane.” Leviathan frowned but he also knew that he was in no position to fight you. If you were unhappy, he had to take it up with Diavolo and that’s something he doesn’t necessarily want to deal with, “Okay…But we’ll play other things too, right?” You chuckled.

It took you a while to figure out exactly how you wanted to do this. You knew you could turn and mess yourself up in pretty much any way, but you needed it to be discreet. That’s where you were grateful for Levi’s competitiveness and his quick thinking on banana peels. Every time he threw one at you, you barely dodged it, and every once in a while you would hit a few back to back, four back to back to be specific. Instead of just spinning out of control and moving on, though, you somehow managed to pull through with your plan. H. E. L. P. The last letter was the hardest one but after doing the same pattern twice, Levi caught on. No one can say again he’s just a dumb Otaku. He side-eyed you, giving you a raised eyebrow, but all you could really do was discreetly nod and hope he believed you. After that, you continued to mess up a few more times so as to not draw suspicion. “Let’s… change the game. This might be a trip down memory lane for you, but it’s boring to me if you’re so terrible at it and I keep beating you.” 

You pouted, nudging him again, “fine… I had fun though.” Levi chuckled this time, obviously nervous, “I did too… let’s maybe try and play---!” “Leviathan!” A cold shiver ran down your spine and from the looks of it, it ran down Levi’s too. The poor demon didn’t even have time to turn around before Diavolo engulfed him in a hug, “hghn…!!! T-too tight, Lord...Diavolo…” Diavolo let go of him with a laugh, turning to you and reaching out his hand. Of course, you took it so he could pull you up. “Did you have fun?” You could feel Leviathan’s nervousness mingle with your own, but you smiled up at him nonetheless, “Yes! Levi beat me pretty much every game, but I’m just glad we got to hang out.” Levi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “You tried your best… It’s just hard to beat the best.” You looked at Levi with disbelief before sticking your tongue out at him, a gesture which he returned. “Whatever. Keep telling yourself that. I let you win.” “Hah!” He genuinely laughed at you, and for a moment you debated on taking offense, but he was your only hope so you let it slide.

“Well, I’m glad you two had fun. Please do tell me anytime you two want to do it again. I hate to leave my darling all by herself, and seeing as you two are such good friends, I think you should come around more often.” It seemed too nice. He was being too nice. A facade he put up in front of others, but you knew all too well what lied beneath. “O-Of course! Thank you, Lord Diavolo.” It was awkward after that, with the two only smiling at each other, Diavolo’s grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Barbatos cleared his throat, “My Lord, I will be escorting Leviathan back to his house now.” You quickly let go of Diavolo’s hand to hug Levi one more time, which he returned almost too stiffly. “It was good to see you… “ You mumbled, before letting go and watching him walk off with Barbatos, hoping that he could deliver the message. 

[phonecallwithsatan]

Letter

a.n.: SURPRISE another new character that does not fit with my profile photo. This is for my very dear friend who enjoys a certain Sarah Paulson. To anyone new reading this, welcome! To those coming back, nice to meet again. 

Reader and Mildred Ratched live a secret life in Lucia, California. All is well, truly, until reader walks in on something she did not expect. Angst central. 3.8k

★

“Go home, baby. Don’t worry about us. It’s fine.” Your partner of three years, almost four, was severely under the weather and looking even paler in the cyan outfit your shared job required as uniform.

You and Mildred were tucked away in a hallway where you could talk in confinement away from all the other patients and staff. You took a hand to her forehead and noticed how warm it was. You slipped the hand to her cheek and held it there, hers going up and holding it softly, sinking her head a bit into your palm.

“Call me a cab. You can take the Ford home.” Mildred heard some footsteps coming from down the hall and she quickly let go of your hand after kissing you ever so lightly as to not smear her red color on your black lipstick. You said goodbye and let go of your partner, walking away first with your white heels clicking on the linoleum floor with every step you took away. You hated these heels with a passion but it was part of the uniform. The black heels you adored were stashed away in the teal Ford you and Mildred shared. 

You smoothed out your dress while you were still walking and did not turn around when you heard Mildred walking after you a few steps behind. You were deeply in love but you still kept the relationship a secret from your coworkers. 

Once you got up to reception you located the phone and dialed the cab number. While it was ringing, you went up to your neck and touched the necklace Mildred gave you for your birthday a few months ago. You fidgeted around with the little heart that hung around your neck with a photo of you two inside of it. 

The attendant picked up after six rings. 

“Hi there, a cab at Lucia State Hospital, please.” You looked up and saw Mildred walk behind the desk by you and you smiled. 

“Alright, I have a driver headed there now.” She ended abruptly. 

You turned with the heels on your shoes to face Mildred.

“They said it would come shortly.” You tried reaching for her hand but she pulled back quickly. You had forgotten that no one knew. 

“Thank you, y/n.” Her quiet voice barely made it over to you and she could tell you were disappointed in the lack of physical touch. Seeing this, she decided to push your necklace back into your collar. Mildred looked to the side almost to pretend to be looking for the cab you had ordered her but you knew she was just checking for people around. 

You were tired of hiding, truly. But there was nothing you could really do. Besides it all, however, you were lucky just to have her. You turned to look at her point of direction and you saw the cab roll-up.

“I’ll see you later, M.” You turned back around and gave her purse over to take home. She opened up her purse and gave you the key for the Ford.

“Do you have money on you?” She nodded and you sent her off, looking over the desk as she walked away with confidence in her step even though she was hiding her own life away from the people she ate lunch next to.

The doors opened and you decided to get back to work. Only six more hours. 

★

Eight o’clock rolled around and you were ready to head home after saying goodbye to all your coworkers. You hadn’t heard from Mildred through a phone call so you decided to surprise her with flowers, just because.

You took the keys out of your purse and you walked to the car. As you reached it, you popped the trunk open and took out your beloved shiny black heels. You sat down in the trunk and slipped the white ones off, throwing them worthlessly and carelessly behind you. You snorted to yourself and decided to leave them there until tomorrow’s shift. You pushed your feet in one by one after closing either clasp on them and you closed the trunk when you were done.

Luckily, you knew how to drive well in heels too.

The engine powered up and you headed for the store that was closest to you and Mildred’s home. You were frequent there since you took the liberty to do most of the shopping for the house.

You loved this store because of its broad selection of arrangements, ranging from daisies to carnations, hydrangeas available any time of year, and iris’ that brightened up your home.

The Ford was parked close and you walked in headed straight to the florals. You were mesmerized by the selection as you ran your hands through some of the flowers, holding your purse close to you and your lips pursed slightly as you made your selection.

“Are we shopping for anyone in specific today, Miss?” You turned and saw the attendant come closer to you.

You heard Mildred’s voice in your head saying that ‘it’s a small town, don’t,’ and you decided to throw a white lie.

“My best friend. She isn’t feeling well.” You watched as the attendant unsubtly scanned your face. Her eyes flickered from your bold lipstick up to your piercing eyes, switching back and forth until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You cleared your throat and she finally responded.

“How about some tulips? White, maybe? Or you might like something… bolder.” You cocked your head to the side at that comment and you took a step closer to the attendant. 

“Maybe you could get me twelve stems of those red roses back there.” You turned a bit and pointed at a bouquet of roses behind the lady. She strained her neck to look and as she did her brows were furrowed. 

She began to walk towards them and she spoke once again. “Best friend, you say? Aren’t these a bit too much?” She took them out of their temporary holding space and you withheld yourself from snapping. 

Her back was still turned towards you as she wrapped them up for you. As she was, you took a twenty out of your wallet. 

As she turned around you noticed her still staring at you in a very unsophisticated manner considering she was a sixty-year-old woman working at a market for four dollars an hour. 

She handed you the roses and you pushed the twenty on the table beside you. “Keep the change, ma’am.” 

You turned slowly enough the see the look on her face and you smiled to yourself as you walked to your car with the roses in hand.  Mildred loved red. 

You placed them on the passenger’s seat and began the short commute home. You fiddled with the radio in the dark and you came home within minutes. As you were pulling into the driveway, you noticed a car you didn’t recognize. Maybe one of the neighbors was having guests over and they had decided to park on your side of the lawn. Strange, you thought.

You switched over from drive to park and you turned the key to the left. Your home was dimly lit, even at 8:30 when you two would normally have dinner or read together. Instead of lit up windows that faced the street you were greeted with two out of the three being dark.

You took the flowers and purse from the seat and you locked the car before opening the door of your home. You yelled out for Mildred who could have been anywhere in the house. A different black pair of kitten heels greeted you at the front door instead. Those were not yours and they definitely did not belong to Mildred.

“Mildred, baby? I’m home!” You yelled once more while kicking lightly at the shoes. Placing your purse down on the kitchen table, you followed the light down the hallway that was peeking out from the crack inbetween door and carpet. 

“M?” This call was quieter. It was surreal and realizing as to what was happening around you. It was barely above a whisper. The roses were still clutched in your hands as you reached for the gold door handle.

There was music playing from a stereo you had bought for the house. It was the first purchase you had made under this roof, and your lover was using it for someone else.

Infront of you laid Mildred and an unknown person in your bed. They were too busy to notice you walk in on their space. It seemed like that was how they prayed, in a shared bed that was no longer.

“Mildred, you deceiving wrench, you-” They turned around and almost like a movie deferred away from each other like two negatives. Her red lipstick was smeared all over the stranger’s face which even trailed down to her body. The sheets barely reached over her and a migraine began to form when you saw red trail down her neck to torso. Your hand flew to your mouth and your hand unconsciously gripped the flowers with a grip that was only familiar when you had to grab a patient.

“Y/n, hold on,” Mildred tried to explain but you moved faster and threw the flowers against the wall. Tears were becoming and you looked at the two that were still somehow entangled. 

The flowers flew apart from their wrapping and landed in different positions on the floor. You were screaming at this point. 

Your own lover. Your partner. Your lady. Your wife, even. This was your best friend, the person who hung up your jackets and the person who read outloud to you when your voice was gone. That same person didn’t even bother to change the sheets.

“You,” reached down and took the locket in your hands before tearing it off and walking over to them. “You, skank,” you shoved the necklace in the stranger’s face from inches away, “get the fuck out.”

She didn’t budge. 

“Now!” You screamed and you heard Mildred yell back. The stranger got up, naked and covered in red. You turned your eyes away.

“Don’t talk to Gwen that way, y/n-” she wasn’t able to finish her sentence because you slapped her. Hard and across the face. So hard that she turned to the right to stare at Gwen.

“I didn’t know Gwen was so close to you, Mildred.” You turned to Miss Gwen and you were almost unable to hold yourself back from attacking her.

“Gwen, get the fuck out before I figure out who’s ring that is.” The ring you were mentioning was on her left hand and was obviously not from Mildred. As much as you hated and despised her soul at the moment, she would never buy a ring like that one.

Gwen was practically sprinting at this point with clothes in hand. Funny enough, she was clinging onto the locket Mildred had given you.

“Y/n, hold on, please-” you interrupted her.

“Can’t you say anything else, M?” You closed your eyes the minute you called her by her nickname. Mildred was up from the bed and was frantic to cover her self up with the white sheets you two had slept and loved in.

You stared at her. You waited for an answer. But nothing came out. Just prolonged staring and smeared lipstick coated your eyes.

You walked up to her once more. You waited and waited, but nothing. She tried reaching for your hand but you repeated your earlier move and hit her once more. 

“Don’t you dare, Mildred. Don’t you dare and try to justify anything you have done.” Your finger was pointed towards her. 

You walked out of the room and slammed he door. You heard it open but you ignored it as you were halfway down the wall.

“Y/n, baby-”

“Do not.” You spoke clearly and commanding. You reached the closet that held some coats and you grabbed a few. You moved down and felt her presence float around you. 

You grabbed your purse and some shoes. You were not staying here tonight.

She grabbed your arm and you turned to look at the cheater who had accompanied your walk.

You two just stared at each other and her grip tightened. You shook your arm to let it loose but she would not budge.

You let your eyebrows relax and you mouth untighten. Her eyes stared deep into yours but you could just tell that there was nothing left between you two. Nothing could repair this. You shook it once more and didn’t break eye contact until she let go.

You slammed the closet door before walking out and you opened the door. Mildred followed.

She was saying something but it’s hard to register when the rage blows through your nose and ears.

You walked over to the car which you two shared and you threw your belongings in the back seat and the hopping in the front. You locked the doors before Mildred could get to you. You watched her through the window as she pleaded for you. You turned the key to the right and put the car in reverse. She ran to the back and held on to the trunk of the car. You could see her in the rear view mirror and she was not giving up without a fight.

Unknowing of what to do, you decided to scare her instead. Still in reverse, you pressed the break and the gas at the same time to rev the engine a bit and create a sound that would startle her. It worked, and she jumped to the side after you did that maneuver. Now that she was gone, you were able to safely back up.

Your tires squealed as you exited the driveway and you watched her sit in silence. The sheets had turned to brown shreds and all you could do is stare in amusement. 

There was nothing left as you continued down the road with your headlights shining bright and your rearview mirror regretfull. 

★

You had been driving all night from Lucia only to end up in a motel somewhere in Nevada.

You had gotten a decent nights, or days, rest and contemplated where you could end up staying for the rest of, well, life at this point. Luckily you had some cousins in Colorado. You were just hopeful that your now borrowed Ford would get you there with no problems. 

The room was alright as far as the hotel clerk would know and you were able to pay and leave.

The blue Ford was waiting for you patiently and it was ready to keep moving. You hopped in and searched for some sunglasses in the glove compartment. You were sort of just digging blindly.

Instead, you found a letter. You took it out and saw your name written on it in the one and only Mildred’s cursive handwriting. Your neatly applied black lips tightened a bit and you closed the glove compartment after successfully finding a pair of cat eye shades.

You spun around the folded letter a bit and you contemplated what to do. It definitley was not placed after yesterdays events, but not before. How long was this sitting here?

You decided to open it besides it all.

Ripping it open, the letter inside read as following:

Y/n,

Four years with you have been passionate, lustful, insightful, glorious, and most of all, beautiful. Maybe it was the eyes, or perhaps the words, but you’ve found a way to tie me down and I wouldn’t leave even if I was forced to. You could shun me, and I would still love you. You could spit, kick, loathe, hit, and run me over, and I would still come back. 

I had always thought that settling down with someone would mean protruding coprimises and mandatory family dinners, but you changed that, y/n. You’ve changed my perception of love and desire. The moment you walked into Lucia, I knew I had to have you.

I understand how difficult it can be to hide what we have but I want to change that. I don’t want to resist holding your hand when we walk past our neighbors and I don’t want to lie and say I’m living with my friend from High School. I promise you this isn’t forever, just temporary. Believe me, I will do everything to change that.

I want to give you this not because I have to, but because I want to. I can’t stand deceiving you so please believe me when I say that these words come from the heart and soul. Understand that, please.

I never knew I could care for someone this much. 

You’re my once in a lifetime; you’re the one, y/n. 

Always with love, yours truly, 

Mildred Ratched.

The inconsistent words made you laugh to yourself. 

You took the paper and crumpled it in your hands. Your windows were already rolled down and you threw it out the passengers side. It rolled around a bit but eventually settled. 

Placing the car in reverse, you backed out of your spot. You took your sunglasses and pushed them up a bit before placing the car in drive and running over the letter.

[jay-and-dean]

Firefly Chapter 7 : Eighteen and twenty-eight years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ?

Summary :  40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her.

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here…

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer… And also Sammy and Jack…

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 4330

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Firefly Chapter 1

Firefly Chapter 2

Firefly Chapter 3

Firefly Chapter 4

Firefly Chapter 5

Firefly Chapter 6

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

——————————————————————————

She wasn’t moving at all. Sitting on the bench in the middle of this ocean of life, she watched people walk by. The sun had gone down now, after moving from building to building, making giant shadows change the whole city constantly.

She was overwhelmed, unable to move at all. Her eyes were drinking the world like new born baby’s ones. None of her muscles moved for hours, her fists clinging at her dress, her heart bleeding in silence for Dean.

A few people stopped to ask her if she was okay, but she couldn’t answer, her voice locked in her lungs…

But she finally got up.

After days of hiding in alleys, and walking on boulevards, escaping weird men yelling at her in the dark of night… It started to rain. A heavy, pouring storm rain that made her dress heavy and washed the dust out of her. And that warm loud summer rain somehow woke her from her torpor.

She had to live, and learn everything about life because that’s what Dean wanted for her… But Dean wasn’t here, and he will never be. So she came back to that bench, soaked and shaking, and started to cry for him. She had to be happy for the man she loved, and couldn’t without him… 

Her tears only calmed with the rain that day. And even when her eyes stopped crying, her heart never stopped weeping for Dean a single second.

Not when she got up from that bench to find a map of the city on the subway station, not when she found clothes, and ripped that stupid dress of her body… It was still weeping when she first found people in the street and asked her where to find food. It was screaming inside her during her first night in a foster home for homeless people… When she fought for the first time to escape men again. 

Her heart was weeping for Dean the first time she laughed, seeing cartoons in a TV store front, when she found out about drugs and abuse, cheating, wealth... when she started to be hungry, when she fell of exhaustion in an alley…

And even if her eyes stayed dry, her soul kept crying when the demons attacked.

Lilith had sent them after her as soon as the Queen noticed Y/n was no longer in Hell. She was hiding in an abandoned building when dozens of demons attacked her, she fought with teeth and nails to get them off and she won, but that wasn’t the end… Lilith kept sending more minions and, exhausted but determined to live, Y/n had only one option left.

She faked her own death. With the help of her powers and some research in the nearby library and in the maze of knowledge she had memorized over the years, she tricked the demons into believing she was dead, and used a certain pattern of sigils to hide herself, cloaked from every supernatural being.

Finally she was free.

So things went easier. After a little while, she met her own little angel : Sue. An older lady who offered Y/n shelter when she caught her dumpster diving her diner. Sue found Y/n a little odd at first, everyone thought that of her, but just as with every person Y/n had met on her way, Sue liked the happy girl she always seemed to be, enthusiastic about the very simpler things ; so she offered Y/n a job as a waitress in her diner.

_____________

 Y/n’s window was rolled down as the loud music blasted through the speakers of her raven black 1967 Ford Mustang as she drove to work, still the same job at Sue’s diner. And she was smiling wide on her way, because she loved every single thing about this job. 

She parked her car in the lot and made her way inside to take her light blue apron.

“Morning Y/n! How are you doing today sweetie ?” Sue asked.

“You know, same old same old.” Y/N shrugged.

Tying her apron on her, Y/n smiled kindly. She looked so different from what Dean had known, and hopefully different enough so no demon passing by ever recognized her. Her hair was tied together and no longer falling on a waterfall in her back. No more fancy dresses but only jeans and all the t-shirts she liked, with rock bands on it, or her favorite movies posters... 

Sue sighed and put her hand on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Are you still working on freeing Prince Charming ?” she asked Y/n with an apologetic smile. 

“Yes, I promised I would get him out and I won’t stop until he is” she said determinedly. 

When Sue had just found Y/n she kindly offered her to stay at her house until she could get on her own feet. Y/n dreamed a lot about Dean, some dreams worse than the others, so after the third night of her guest screaming Dean’s name, Sue had asked her who he was. Y/n couldn’t tell her everything so she said he was the love of her life and was wrongly imprisoned, and that she had promised to get him out.

“He’s a very lucky guy to have you, Y/n” Sue told her.

“Yeah, I just… I miss him so much…” Y/n said as she made the last knot on her apron.

“I know sweetie, but if you truly love him, he’ll come back, just wait and see” she smiled with that protective expression she always had when it came to her protégée, even if she seemed sometimes perplexed about all those stories she told.

She gave her her note book to write down the orders.

“Yeah I hope so” Y/n clicked on her pen and made her way into the diner to take up the orders of all the customers. 

It was a quiet day, she loved this little diner, the food was amazing and it even had a little jukebox she often used. It had given her a shelter, money to live, but also an identity and friends. A life.

Her smile faded like it did sometimes, Dean would have loved this diner too… She thought back to all the things she discovered on Earth.

She did everything Dean had told her about : She went to the movie theater, she learned how to drive (thanks to Sue), she had a date or four, went to a party, she got drunk a few times. She danced alone and with others, kissed a girl and travelled a little. Her appetite for life was never ending, so she had driven to the ocean and dived, she had smoked weird things once and ran in the forest, she had woke in the middle of the night to go buy ice-cream, she had sang in the shower and stayed home for an entire weekend crying while watching bad tv shows… And she even lost her virginity to a sweet boy. But nothing could get her mind off Dean, calm her weeping heart or divert her from her goal.

Every night she looked up at the stars and imagined him by her side, she could use her power to create an image of him that existed out of a million little stars, well more like a million little fireflies.

A lot of time had passed since she last saw him, her heart broke at the thought of him down there for so long. He must have forgotten her by now, if his soul even survived those many years.

A throat being cleared pulled her from her daydreaming. She turned to find a man smiling at her.

“Oh my apologies, what can I get you, sir ?” she asked the man, there was something unpleasant about him, he had dirty blonde hair and she didn’t like the way his blue eyes were traveling her up and down.

“Are you on the menu ?” he asked her with a sly smile.

Y/n sighed deep, why were a lot of men on Earth such… pigs ?

“No sorry, I was just joking” the man began. “I’ll take a coffee with some pancakes.” 

Y/n wrote his order down and left with a forced smile. 

He was the only customer today so Y/n handed the paper to Sue so she could make it and sat down at the little bar. She was watching the man in the mirror that hung on the other side of the counter. She couldn’t shake the eerie feeling she got from the man, he looked normal, but she could feel something… something powerful radiating off him.

The bell pulled Y/n out of her haze as she took the coffee and pancake to the man.

“Here you go sir, enjoy your meal” Y/n said as she dropped the food at his table.

“Thank you.” 

She was starting to leave when his voice stopped her.

“Can I ask you a question, miss ?” he asked as he took a bite from the pancake.

“Yeah, of course” Y/n shrugged.

“You haven’t been here for long have you ?” he said as he looked at her.

“Uhm no, not very long. Are you from around here ?” Y/n asked, he was just a normal guy, it was impossible for anyone to find her anyway. 

“Oh no not at all. But i didn’t mean this diner...” he kept on eating nonchalantly, he swallowed. “I meant Earth.” 

Y/n’s eyes went wide, she turned and ran towards the exit only to bump into the man who was just sitting at the table behind her half a second ago. 

“Who are you” Y/n asked as she stepped back from him

A deep sigh left his mouth.

“It hurts me that you even have to ask that, Y/n” he blinked and his irises turned to a fiery red.

Y/n ran towards the kitchen to get Sue. She pulled open the door and shrieked as her dear friend fell on her with her eyes burned out.

Dead.

“No ! Sue !” Y/n started shaking, cupping her friend’s face. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER ?” Y/n screamed to the man walking in casually.

“She put too much milk in my coffee, so I ended her” he shrugged nonchalantly.

Y/n stood up, her eyes a flare as she widened her arms to unleash her powers. Two fiery tentacles wrapped around the man’s legs.

“You’ll regret this” she said, her voice sounding like a thousand people at once.

The man gave her a sly smirk and snapped his fingers, her powers stopped immediately. She thrusted her hands forward to him, but nothing happened. Fear shone in her eyes as she looked at him in disbelief.

“It’s time we should head home, Y/n” he stepped closer to her, his fingers tilting up her chin.

“We have a family to start” he whispered against her lips with a dark chuckle.

“L-Lucifer” she gasped. 

 His arms wrapped tight around her and before she could blink she was back in Hell.

The suffocating smell of sulfur and blood made her cough, her whole body started to shake as she started to desperately gasp for air, her lungs crushed by the most powerful anxiety she ever felt. Her arms reached to her enemy in a pleading scratch, like he was strangling her…

“Home sweet home, baby” he cruelly cooed in her ear, his breath heavy on her skin. 

She pried her arms between them to push out of his embrace. He chuckled as he let her go and she fell backwards, scrambling away from him.

“Stay away from me!” she finally managed to yell at him, her eyes flaring back to life as she was losing control over her powers.

He tilted his head at her as he watched her, his steps following her every move.

“You are such a pretty thing, I see some potential too. But I was told you were,” he hummed in thought “a pain in the ass. And I’m starting to see why.”

Her eyes were scanning everything, the bloody walls, the frozen air all around her, the never ending screams, the smell of fear and fire. 

No she couldn’t be back in Hell…

With a turn of his wrist she was lifted up in the air, she tried to fight his power, but he was too strong… She couldn’t take on the Lord of Hell…

“Y/n, I’m only going to tell you that only once : You will obey and be helpful” he said with every step until he stood nose to nose with her, his eyes drinking her in.

She gave him a sweet smile before she spat in his face.

“Never” she told him.

His hand came up to wipe her spit away, he licked his hand clean, humming at her taste. 

“As you wish, Y/n. Then my little slave needs chains...” he sneered.

Iron ropes wrapped around her as soon as the word left his lips, they burned into her flesh making her scream in pain. She fell heavy to the ground at his feet.

“For eternity” he finished as he sat down on his throne.

“No p-please, no chains… everything but chains” she begged him.

“Oh no baby, I know what you used to do when you’re set loose, but forget about that, he isn’t here anyway, no reason to go wandering. Jeal told me all about you and your little lover.” he said as he crossed his legs over each other.

“H-he isn’t ? H-How” she asked, suddenly able to ignore the pain of the iron digging in her flesh. 

How was that possible ?

“He got out, Heaven’s plans. Now stop asking or I’ll gag you too” he sighed, looking at her. “I’ll make you your own little cage, like they did for me. No way you’ll get away from this one. And don’t think your daddy will help, he still thinks you’re dead. Everyone does.”

She whimpered in silence, only one thought on her mind. He was free… 

Dean Winchester was alive.

________________________

Dean’s Pov 

  Dean woke up in a little painful whine, he opened his eyes and wiped the sweat off his face and neck, watching the ceiling, trying to focus on the contour of his body, the sheets and the pillow. He took a deep breath to calm his heaving chest. 

Another nightmare.

And this one wasn’t the violent surviving of Purgatory, it wasn’t the burning guilt of old fights with John, the crushing pain of seeing Sam die ; it wasn’t the despair of losing Mary again, the disturbing memories of being a demon… It was the worst : Hell.

And among the worst, the tortures and the screams, tonight’s nightmare had to be about the cruellest idea demons ever came up with : fake hope.

In his dream, he was laying on the floor of his cell, barely able to breath because of the blood drowning his lungs, and he felt her hand, her tiny soft fingers wrapped around his wrist to ease his panic. She whispered sweet things to him but when he lifted his eyes to see her face, only Alastair was there, laughing loud and sharpening knives. 

Dean stretched and shook his head, like he could get rid of those memories like that. He couldn’t let nightmares get to him, and he couldn’t let his past crush him. 

With his guts still aching from the dream, he forced himself to get up. Staying in bed only made the memories clearer, and the trauma cut deeper. He knew only another hunt could ease the pain. 

Maybe, just maybe, if he saved enough people, he would finally expiate.

The bunker was silent, even Sam was still sleeping so early in the morning. Walking to the kitchen, he frowned : His knee was still hurting and the bruises on his face and collarbones too. 

Damn demon.

He turned to enter the kitchen and jumped a little.

“Hi Dean, sorry I scared you” Jack said, looking up from his bowl of cereal, his big eyes going to the hunter’s wounds quickly. “How are you ?” 

“I’m fine. What are you doing up so early ?” Dean grunted, going straight to the coffee in his long grey robe. 

“I have trouble sleeping lately” the boy answered, frowning in confusion like he often did. 

“Try whiskey” Dean muttered low in a sleepy grunt.

“Alcohol is really not a solution to my problem I think” Jack turned to him, even more confused.

“I was kidding” he sighed, sitting in front of the young boy.

Sometimes Jack really was Castiel’s son…

The hunter scratched his scruff and took the cereal to plunge his hand in the box, eating some while reading the joke behind it.

“I hear a voice in my head” Jack sighed. 

Dean looked up, ready to make a mocking joke but he noticed a genuine worry on the boy’s face.

“A voice ?”

“Yes” Jack searched Dean’s face. “At first I thought maybe I overheard something on the angel radio, but… It seems different.”

“What does it say ?” 

“I don’t really understand it” Jack shrugged.

“Understand what ?” Sam asked, scratching his head while entering the room with his hair in every direction and the left side of his face still swollen and bruised. “Wow, everyone is up early this morning ! What am I missing ?” 

“Jack says he hears a voice” Dean repeated, getting up to get coffee now it was ready. “But he doesn’t know where it comes from or what it says” he groaned slightly. 

Please don’t let that be bad news again…

Dean sat heavily, rubbing his tired eyes while his brother interrogated Jack. How long had he been hearing the voices, were there several, was it constant… The boy only had a very few answers.

“We need to find where it comes from, Dean” Sam states, making his brother grunt again in his coffee mug. 

That didn’t sound like a good old fight and kill hunt, it sounded like trouble.

_____________________

  Dean pushed the heavy metal door and went down the stairs, overhearing his brother, Jack and Castiel talking in the library. 

Reaching them, he almost threw the bag on the wooden table, not daring to ask any question seeing the three too serious faces looking at him.

“I guess no good news” he mumbled deep in his throat looking down to grab a beer from the bag.

“Dean” Castiel started with his worried voice, making the hunter look instantly slightly annoyed. “The voice comes from Hell.”

“Hell” Dean repeated casually, taking a sip of beer to wash the word from his mouth. “There are a lot of voices in Hell, it’s pretty loud down there.”

When his eyes fell on Sam, a shiver roamed his back. He had the face, Dean hated that face, the “you’re not going to like it” face. So he put his beer down on the table and sighed.

“What is it ?” he finally asked.

“The voice, Dean” Jack said. “It’s calling you.”

“Me” Dean’s eyes widened. “There can be another dude named Dean in Hell !”

“Dean…” Sam sighed. “Who could be calling you ?”

Dean’s first thought went to Bobby. They had freed him from Hell a few years ago, he was supposed to be in Heaven, and Crowley had decided differently… Maybe someone they lost ? An innocent locked in Hell by mistake ? But Rowena was on the throne now… Would she do that ? 

“How can you hear a voice coming from Hell ?” he shook his head. “Do you hear them all ?”

“No” Jack said. “Only this one.”

Dean sat and took a deep breath, realizing this would mean that he would have to visit Hell... again. After those break in, the nightmares were always worse, and last time he had to deal with a panic attack in the shower. 

“Okay” he stated. “What is the plan ? And how do we know it’s not a trap ?”

_____________________ 

 “So your plan…” Rowena frowned from her throne, her long dress nonchalantly falling on the floor. “Is letting the boy follow a voice like a dog on a leash ?” 

Dean’s face was stern, his arms tense, his heart a little compressed in his chest.

Each time he smelled that horrible sulfur mixed with blood smell, it was like he could feel the chains and the needles and hear Alastair’s voice all over again. Then he had two choices in his mind : Either he accepted it, and stayed with the demon’s croaky voice in his head for days, or focused on what had made him hold on for years back then : the secret girl’s soft touches ; but then the fear was replaced by the crushing feeling of despair and sadness, at knowing he had been fooled that bad, into believing innocence exited.

“More or less” his brother answered. “Rowena, you have to admit it’s something new… And if there are leaks in Hell…”

“Yeah yeah…” the witch sighed. “But don’t come crying when your little baby angel comes back traumatized. This is not a place for kids.”

Oh the irony.

“It’s not there” Jack cut them with a frown, looking around.

“What do you mean it’s not there ?” Dean grunted. “You were sure it came from Hell !”

“It does…” the boy stated. “Just deeper.”

“Deeper ?” Sam shook his head, but turned to Rowena, immediately trusting Jack as always. “Is there a basement in Hell ?”

“A basement ? Hell is a multi-dimensional…”

“Answer him” Dean cut her, losing patience.

Rowena got up and demons entered the room. She gave orders about getting the records, about the cage, and all. After a few very long minutes, a demon in an old man vessel came closer to the Queen, whispering something in her ear.

“Oh really ?” Rowena said. “Why am I not aware of all this ?”

“Because they’re all empty, your Majesty” the demon shrugged. 

“What is ?” Sam insisted with a flustered move of his hands.

Rowena sat again.

“There are cages, like the one that held Lucifer once. Smaller ones, but for all we know, they are all empty.”

“For all you know ?” Dean raised his voice a little. 

“No one uses them” Rowena shrugged. 

“They held an angel during the war between Heaven and Hell” the demon spoke, his voice shaking a little, obviously uneasy in front of the Winchesters. “I-in the dawn of time, but the angel was killed by Lucifer before Michael locked him in the cage… We kinda forgot where they were.”

“Take us to them” Jack ordered Rowena with this frown of his.

Rowena looked to the demon that didn’t move, his eyes on Dean, like the hunter could suddenly decide to kill all of them.

“Merihem, take us to those cages” Rowena called him. “Chop chop.” 

____________________

The light of Hell’s fire didn’t reach that deep in the pit, like the sun in the deepest ocean.

Dean was holding the torch like it was his lifeline in this vertiginous nightmare of deafening silence. Everything was threateningly pitch black, a perfect representation of the fear of dark, a big cold lonely nothingness… With stairs in the middle. 

“I didn’t know there was anything deeper than Lucifer’s cage” the Queen’s voice echoed weirdly in the void.

Suddenly, the stairs stopped and Dean banged into metal bars. He lifted his torch to see what was behind it, but the cage was empty.

“It’s here” Jack whispered. “I can feel it.”

Sam opened the empty cage, his arm hair ruffling at the touch of the same metal that held his soul for so long.

“Nothing” he said, holding back his own trauma probably as hard as Dean did.

“Dean…” a weak voice made them all jump, coming from the dark.

“Who is this ?” the hunter grunted, taking a few unsure steps to the next cage, firmly holding his torch in front of him with an almost trembling arm.

“Dean…” the voice now whined.

Sam put his hand on his brother’s shoulder to make him wait for him. They looked at each other, using silent words and joining their flames to fight the pitch black ahead of them. 

Even used to all kinds of nightmares, Dean wasn’t so reassured in the deepest of Hell, called by a weak and plaintive voice coming from the darkest of darks.

Something moved in the cage in a deafening metal noise, a shadow fleeing the light. The brothers both let out a shaky breath, moving closer with the demon and Rowena way behind them.

Dean swallowed, finally distinguishing a body, hunched in the opposite corner of the cage, shaking. Extremely long hair was falling around the pitiful form, chained heavily even inside the cage. 

“Who are you ?” he asked again. “You’re calling me, why ?”

No answer.

“Who is this ?” Sam turned to the demon that had guided them.

“I-I have no idea” it answered. “No one came here in years !”

“Dean ?” the voice seemed to struggle thinking straight.

“Jeez” Sam muttered. “For how long has she been there ?”

She ? Dean thought, realizing now it was indeed a woman, her thin delicate hands were clinging to the floor.

His heart was racing in his chest, from being in Hell, from the fear of what he would find, and from something else, something confusing, like an emotion flying in the air around him.

The girl finally lifted her face to them, teary eyes frowned at the light of the flame, her shaking hand open in front of her to soften the burning of the torch.

Dean felt hit violently in the chest, his breathing stopped in a strangled gasp as everything he certainly knew started to crumble in the back of his mind. He opened his mouth but nothing came out… After swallowing twice, he finally managed to speak.

“Firefly ?”

Next Chapter on @roonyxx​‘s blog

________________________

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[aquietwritingcorner]

Writers Month Day 13: Night/Flowershop/tattooshop AU Word Count: 4236 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K Characters: Vato Falman, Olivier Mira Armstrong, Major Miles, Captain Buccaneer, Doc, Neil Warning: NA Summary: Vato Falman works at a quiet, little (run-down) flowershop next to a tattoo parlor. He never expected to nor wanted to meet the owners of said tattoo parlor. But typically whatever Falman doesn’t want is exactly what he gets. Notes: Because if this was going to happen to anyone, it would happen to Falman! AO3 || ff.net

 _____________________________________________

 Night/Flowershop/Tattoshop AU

 When Vato Falman took the job at North City Flowers, it was with a few understandings. One, he wouldn’t bore the customers with talk of what the flowers mean. Two, he would have to work nights sometimes. Three, he wouldn’t have to interact with the proprietors or customers of the tattoo parlor. Four, this job was in a run-down part of town and awful, so he would be surreptitiously looking for another job in the meantime.

North City Flowers was located in a part of the city (not named North City, ironically enough. Apparently, it had been part of a failed chain of flower shops from North City, and no one had ever bothered to change the name) that was not considered the best part of town. During the day people watched themselves closely. During the night people scurried from place to place as quickly as they could, and only if they had to go out—which few people ever wanted to. In fact, Falman had been certain that he was going to be jumped in the first few weeks of work.

It wouldn’t be too bad, if his boss would just pitch in. His boss was a greasy looking man who clearly didn’t want to be here nights either. Every day before the sun set, he’d make sure Falman was there, take most of the money from the register, and leave. Falman, no matter how much he didn’t want to, was left pretty much every night to finish the day, clean up, and lock up. He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like he could quit. If he didn’t need this job, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.

Next door to North City Flowers was the Briggs Tattoo Parlor. Falman had never been inside and had no plans to. He had seen the owners, though. A big, strong man who looked like he could crush Vato just by thinking about it; a tall, Ishvalan man, who seemed unreadable; and the beautiful, blonde woman whose glance looked and felt like ice. They were each terrifying on their own, but together they were more so. Sometimes another woman was there, with short hair and glasses, and while she looked friendlier, she didn’t look like someone to cross either. Falman had no idea what to make of the guy with the cigarette and the loud shirts that often came, usually with grease somewhere on him. The clientele wasn’t much better. Most consisted of a lot of men who looked like they were not people to cross—and Falman had no intentions of doing so.

(They didn’t seem to accept just anyone, though. He had watched them kick out a man dressed in a white suit once, in a very rough fight. There had been a lot of shouting, but he had decided that he was probably better off in the back, and so hid there for a bit, supposedly cleaning it up.)

The Briggs Tattoo Parlor seemed to do a lot of work at night. In the evenings, when Falman was cleaning up, he often heard loud thumps coming from the other side of the wall, and yelling. Sometimes there was music as well. Falman had no idea what was going on over there, but he had decided long ago it was in his best interests not to find out.

And so, Falman lived out his workdays like this. Helping customers pick out bouquets that sent the wrong message, staying late at night in the shop, searching for another job, and avoiding the Briggs crew next door.

Until tonight.

The night started out like any other. He helped the customers, his boss took the money, and Falman was left to clean and close up. The days were getting shorter, which meant it got dark quite a bit earlier. Falman always tried to clean up as quickly as he could, figuring that the less time spent here at night the better, but today had been busy, and there was quite a mess in the back room. It took him a few hours to clean it all up, and by the time he did, it was already much later than he wanted it to be.

With a put-upon sigh, Falman gathered up the garbage, tied it up, and headed out the back to throw it away. There was a dumpster in the alley behind this row of shops, and he headed out to it, moving quickly, hoping to not draw any trouble.

This meant, of course, that he did.

He was just past the back of the Briggs Tattoo Parlor when out of nowhere he was grabbed, pushed up against a wall, and a knife pressed to his throat.

“Gimme all your money,” a voice sneered in his ear.

Falman paled. “I-I-I don’t have any!” he stammered out.

“Don’t gimmie that crap,” the man said. “Gimmie your wallet.”

“I don’t—I left it in the shop!” Falman said.

“Yeah? Then let’s go back to the shop and get it and whatever money is there, flower boy.”

Falman paled more. Either this man saw him coming out of the shop, or he had been casing it out for a few days, at least. “Th-there’s nothing there! My boss—he takes the money when he leaves!”

The pressure on Falman increased and the knife pressed harder on his neck. “I think you’re just making excuses,” the man growled. “Guess I gotta show you I’m serious!”

Before Falman could even start to panic to that, the man was suddenly gone, pulled back with a squawk. Falman, startled, turned to look.

The big man from the tattoo shop had Falman’s assailant by the collar, pulling him back and up. “What do we have here?” he asked.

The Ishvalan man stepped up. “It looks like we caught a thief.” His face was impassive, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Falman wondered how he saw with the night this dark.

“I’d say so too,” the big man said, giving the thief a shake. The man tried to protest, but the big man brought him closer. “Bold of him to try on our turf.”

“Perhaps we should take him inside,” the Ishvalan said. “We can let her deal with him.”

Falman saw real fear break out on the thief’s face. “No!” He still had his knife and brought it up quickly. The big man didn’t let go but intercepted it with his other arm. Falman cringed at that, but the man didn’t seem to even notice. He just grinned a feral grin.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he said.

The thief looked thoroughly freaked out, and the Ishvalan took a step closer and jerked the thief’s jacket down, looking at something on his arm. He slid his glasses off to reveal his piercing, hard, red eyes.

“Tell your bosses not to come near Briggs again. This is our territory, and we protect it. Understand?”

The thief nodded, and the big man let him go. The thief scrambled back and away from them, and towards the edge of the alley. The two had already started turning around, when the thief apparently gained one more moment of courage. Falman saw him reach into his belt and pull something out. His eyes widened as he realized it was another knife, and he was about to rush the two men.

“Look out!” Falman called out and, quite without thinking about it, flung the garbage bag full of flower stems and leaves and various other plant-parts that he still somehow had in his hand, right at the thief. The thief saw it coming and ducked, just in time for it to hit a man that was coming up behind him and knock him to the ground mid-stride The thief cursed and scrambled away, leaving the four other men in the alley.

“What the—what was that all about?” The man who had been knocked down was the one with the loud shirts that came to the tattoo parlor. He was sitting up, pushing the bag of trash off of him. “Why did I just get smacked in the face with a garbage bag?”

“Nice save,” the big man said to Falman. “Thanks.”

“Are you alright?” the Ishvlan asked him.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” the man in the loud shirt said. The other two ignored him.

“I…um… yes?” Falman said.

The two men glanced at each other. “Why don’t we get you back inside,” the Ishvalan said. “Buc—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got Neil,” the big man said.

Falman, still quite shaken up, just nodded, and followed the Ishvalan. He only realized that he hadn’t meant the flowershop when he opened up the door to the tattoo parlor. Falman, not sure what else to do, entered nervously.

It was a surprisingly clean and well-organized back room, well-lit and seeming quite pleasant. The Ishvalan man escorted him through it, and into the main room. It was well lit, with several chairs that looked like they could fold down into beds each contained in a small cubicle like area with tools and equipment, and lots and lots of art and examples of tattoos hanging on the wall.

The blonde woman sat in one of the chairs, while talking to the short haired lady that sometimes came by, who was sitting on a couch in the waiting area. Both looked up at the entrance, and both frowned at Falman. He broke out in another sweat.

“What’s this?” the blonde woman said. “Miles?”

“We ran into a little trouble out back,” he said. “Buccaneer’s collecting Neil.”

“Was he hurt?” the short haired woman asked.

The Ishvalan—Miles, apparently—shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He nodded his head at Falman. “He threw a garbage bag and hit Neil in the face and knocked him down.”

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow and looked at him. Falman thought he might pass out. “He did what?” she asked.

Falman parted his lips, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. “I didn’t mean to” and “it was an accident” didn’t seem like they’d be acceptable to this woman.

“Actually,” Miles said. “It was in defense of us.” The woman clearly wanted more, so he continued. “On our way back from getting Neil, we saw this man getting robbed in the back alley. We stepped in and stopped it, and, after a warning message to take back to his bosses, we let him go. He apparently didn’t give up, though, and must have done something. This man yelled a warning at us and threw the bag of garbage he had. The robber ducked, and Neil happened around the corner at the time. It smacked him in the face instead.”

“Kid had a knife,” the big man—Buccaneer, Falman guessed--said, coming in with the man Falman presumed to be Neil. “And was trying to turn back on us. At least, that’s what the shop across the street says.” He looked over at Falman. “He saved us some trouble, it seems.”

“He stabbed you in the arm!” Falman blurted out and was a bit embarrassed that it was the first thing he said.

Both women looked at him alarmed, and the short haired one rose from the couch to hurry over to him, taking his arm—the wrong arm, Falman noted, and wondered why she had picked that one.

“Aw, Doc, you don’t have to worry,” Buccaneer said. “It wasn’t that arm.”

“Wait—your other arm got stabbed? Let me see,” Neil demanded.

“It’s fine. If it can’t hold up to that—” Buccaneer started.

“Let me see anyway,” Neil insisted.

“You had better have him look, just in case,” the blonde woman said.

Buccaneer sighed, but let himself be guided over to a chair, shedding his coat on the way. Falman blinked in surprise when an automail arm was revealed. That certainly explained a lot.

“You,” Falman jumped when the woman addressed him. “Let Doc look over you as well.”

“Oh—no, I’m, um, I’m fine, really, and I, um—”

“Uh-uh,” the other woman, Doc, said, and gently bullied him into a chair. “Let me check you over, free of charge!” she said with a grin.

“Do you usually charge?” Falman asked.

“When I’m at the clinic I do. Gotta make a living somehow. And usually whenever I’m called over here.”

Falman wondered how often that was, but he was distracted by the sound of Miles and the woman talking.

“—had a Drachma tattoo, General.”

“They’re getting bold. We’re going to have to prove it to them again.”

“I know.”

“General?” Falman murmured under his breath.

Doc must have heard him, because she responded. “Yep. That’s what she’s called around here. But that’s because she’s earned it, to be honest.”

Falman wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he said nothing.

The woman—Doc was all he learned of her name—was quick and efficient, and told him that he wouldn’t have anything to worry about, except maybe some residual soreness. He was taken from there back out into the waiting area of the tattoo parlor, where the others had gathered and some sort of drink was being passed around. He felt it would be rude to refuse, so he took a cup and, after he finished it and thanked them for helping him again, he went back to the flower shop to finish locking up. Buccaneer went with him, just in case, and asked Falman some questions about the shop and the flowers while Falman worked. He seemed genuinely interested in learning about the flowers, and Falman gladly shared his information. Not long afterwards, he locked up and headed home, bidding a farewell and thanks to Buccaneer.

The next day Falman said nothing to his boss, and his boss didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. But, on one of his breaks, Falman used what flowers he could to make a bouquet of thanks and delivered it next door. The general was busy with a customer, but Miles took them and put them in a vase where they could be seen.

After that, odd things began happening. There was an uptick in traffic in the flowershop. Men were coming in for various bouquets, usually wanting Falman to fulfill their order. More than once Buccaneer dropped by with some lunch for Falman, or Miles with some coffee. After the General dropped in, they received a few orders from some fairly well-off individuals.

Odd things also were happening with Falman. He usually waved to the Briggs artists, but he somehow often found himself over there at night, hanging out with them after he had locked up. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but it did. He learned that the Briggs Crew—as they called themselves—kept watch over this neighborhood. They weren’t quite a gang in the traditional sense, but they did keep a group called Drachma out of the place. Drachma wasn’t happy about it, but facing down the General wasn’t a good idea, it seemed. Most of the stores and businesses around either knew about this and were grateful, or, as Falman had been, had no idea. The Briggs Crew didn’t care either way. All they wanted to do was keep their area safe.

The crew seemed to consist of the tattoo artists, the doctors and nurses from Doc’s clinic, the mechanic shop across the street, the automail shop next door to the mechanic’s shop, A restaurant called “the cafeteria” that served awful food but somehow stayed in business, an electronics repair shop, a delivery service, a gym that had some pretty intense training, and several individuals who’s places of work weren’t affiliated in any way.

And somehow, for some reason, Falman had been adopted into them. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be, and wasn’t even sure it was a good thing, if he were honest with himself. But they seemed like decent people who just wanted to keep their neighborhood safe, so he went along with it.

It wasn’t until some months later that he had to prove his loyalty.

Falman was on his way home one night when it happened. He was walking down the sidewalk, nearing the edge of the neighborhood when he thought he heard voices. Not wanting to deal with a confrontation, he slowed, and listened in.

“—can’t let her keep bullying us around like this.”

“Yeah. The boss said we’re gonna make a move. Specifically, on her.”

“On the General herself?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s pretty bold. What’s the plan?”

“We cased it out. She usually sends her two right hands home before she goes. That Ishvalan, he heads out sooner, and the bear, he usually sticks around. But about once a month he leaves a little earlier. She’s alone then.”

“Not totally. Someone usually comes by.”.

“Right. That’s why we’re part of the distraction.”

“Distraction?”

“Yeah. All over. It’ll stop anyone from getting there. And that’s when she gets taken out. She’s gone, and then it either all falls apart, or they go crazy and end up getting arrested.”

There were murmurs from the group, and Falman, who had stopped, slowly began to back away. Unfortunately, he was so caught up in what he had just heard that he neglected to see the garbage can behind him and ran into it. It fell with a clatter, and Falman froze, his eyes widening. He could hear the talking stop and then—

“Hey! Who’s there?”

“Ice ‘em!”

Falman bolted.

Falman liked to think of himself as being fairly in shape. He wasn’t going to win any contests or anything, but he could hold his own, generally speaking. But with his slim physique and prematurely gray hair, most people underestimated him, which he was fine with. He didn’t usually set out to impress. However, tonight he wished he were in better shape, and he could only hope that he was underestimated. Shouts followed him, and he was half sure he saw a couple of guns being pulled out. He veered into a side road, heard shots, and knew he was right.

Heart pounding, Falman zigzagged between the streets and alleys, hoping to lose his pursuers. It and out and around he went, until he finally found a hidden area to duck into. He hid there a moment, breathing hard, trying to catch his breath.

He had to tell them. He had to let them know. He had to make sure that the Briggs Crew knew a set up was coming for the General, a plot to kill her.

But… was he brave enough?

He hadn’t meant to be involved in this in the first place. He could just walk away, call the police, let them deal with it. He could have nothing to do with this, just like he should have since the beginning.

But the whole reason the Briggs Crew was a thing was because the police weren’t doing their jobs. The police wouldn’t interfere. And could Falman really walk away knowing about a plot to kill someone and not doing anything about it?

No. No, he couldn’t.

His breathing had calmed, and he was less winded than before. Looking around carefully he slipped out of his hiding place. He had to go back to the tattoo parlor and warn them.

“Hey, Flowerman.”

A voice from behind him spooked Falman, and he whirled around. A man stood there, not far from him, knife in hand and smiling at him. It took Falman a moment to place him as the guy who had tried to mug him a few months back. Falman took a nervous step back.

“Remember me?” the man said. “I think it’s time I got that money from you.”

The man lunged at him, but Falman jumped back, putting himself out of the man’s reach. The man lunged again, and Falman retreated once more. He glanced back behind himself nervously. There was another exit to this alleyway, but it was covered in junk and trash. Still, it might be his only escape. The man lunged again, and Falman backed up once more. Again and again, until Falman was close enough to the trash that was piled up—parts of boxes and crates and full trash bags—that he could feel how unsteady the whole pile was.

Which, actually, gave him an idea.

It was a terrible idea, but it was an idea.

The man lunged again, and Falman had no where to go but forward. He twisted his body so that, hopefully, he could avoid the knife, or at least avoid the worst of it, but he pulled on the stacked garbage as he did, yanking it hard and bringing it crashing down on the man. He wasn’t sure exactly what he felt in his side—could be the knife, could be some debris—but he wasn’t about to let that slow him down. He pulled himself out of the edge of the pile of trash, put a hand to his side, and sped on as fast as he could manage. He ducked in and out of alleyways, doors, and any place he could hide, until he finally was throwing himself against the front door of the tattoo shop. Startled heads whipped up to see him. He was relieved to see that both Miles and Buccaneer were still here, and his relief made his knees week. Miles opened the door, practically catching Falman in his arms.

“Falman?” both the General and Buccaneer were looking at him alarmed. “Buccaneer, go get Doc!” she ordered.

“No!” Falman gasped out. “No, wait! I have to tell you—” He paused as he tried to catch his breath the concern of the three didn’t fade. “I heard… heard a plot… they’re gonna wait for a night when you’re alone, General. Then they’re… they’re going to cause disruptions and keep you alone… and then they’ll kill you. Drachma that is. I heard it!”

He still hadn’t gotten his breath back yet, and his knees felt like they were growing weaker. Was the fading adrenaline affecting him that much?

“Had to tell you…”

“Alright, easy, cub,” Buccaneer said, easing towards him. “You told us. We’ll be prepared. Now let us take care of you.”

“Huh?” Falman looked down, and suddenly realized that it might not be relief that was making him weak at the knees. It might be blood loss. “…Oh.” He suddenly felt very weak and felt himself slipping more towards the floor.

“Buccaneer. Pick him up. We’ve got to get him to Doc now,” The General said. “Miles, after we get him there, start the alert. No one is to go anywhere alone. Be on the lookout. Use our contacts.”

Miles nodded. “Right, General.”

Buccaneer came over and took a hold of Falman, lifting him up. Once he was secured, the four of them set on their way to Doc’s which wasn’t busy this time of night. As they moved, the General looked over at him.

“Thank you,” she said.

Falman didn’t have time to say more before they were heading into Doc’s clinic, and she was taking over, issuing orders and clearing people away. Falman actually wasn’t that sure of how long he was under her care, but Doc fussed at him about how even shallow stab wounds could kill and needed to be treated properly even as she cleaned him up, stitched him up, and laid him back with a unit of blood. She left him resting with the remote to a small TV in the corner. He had spent about thirty minutes in there when the door opened again. Falman looked over at it.

The General walked in a book in her hands and a stern look on her face. Falman looked at her nervously.

“You risked your life for me tonight,” she said without preamble.

“I, uh, I think they were going to kill me either way,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You could have gone to the police.” She pointed out.

Falman shook his head. “They wouldn’t have done anything about it. There’s a reason they’re not here much.”

She nodded, “You’re right. Still, you risked your life tonight for mine—and for all of Briggs. That isn’t something I take lightly.” She put the book on his lap, and Falman had the distinct impression that, if it hadn’t been for Doc, she would have thrown it at him. “You’ve proved yourself,” she said. “When you find one you want, it’s free of charge and by my hand.”

Curious, Falman abandoned the remote and opened the book. It was a sample of dozens of different kinds of bear paw tattoos. He blinked at it, then looked back up at her.

“If I do this, does this mean I’m part of a gang?”

She laughed. “No more or less than a biker gang.” He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not. “Pick one or don’t—it’s of little consequence to me. But just know, you’re in. You’re Briggs.”

With that she turned and walked out of the small room, leaving Falman there with the book. He looked down at it. How had he, a man who worked in a flower shop, ended up involved in all of this?

Well, there was no turning back now.

Grinning to himself, Falman opened the book to pick out his bear paw tattoo.

[hains-mae]

Flowers

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays. You are just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, so one might think it only makes sense that your soulmate is just as ordinary as you. But that isn’t the case. Especially not when your body is constantly littered with flowers. Some of them fade over time, some stay, but one thing is for certain – your soulmate seems to get hurt. A lot.

Notes: Hey there you guys. Recently I’ve been caught up in a Batman fever, and I can’t do anything about it. I ended up creating a challenge for my friend @mrevaunit42​ which was an “Character x Reader” Soulmate AU. Seriously, it was all in the name of fun.

And then I got caught up in it, perhaps a little too much – and created this. I’ve never written a soulmate au before, though I really wanted to. (Now I have! Yay~) So please forgive my writing since I’m a little rusty, and I hope you enjoy.

Stay safe everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

I woke up to a burning sensation on my lower ribs in the middle of night. Hissing in pain I slowly pushed my feet out of the warm covers and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Pulling up my shirt I assessed the damage.

It was purple lilacs this time, stretched across the middle of my torso going horizontally to my side. I winced as the tattoo completed itself and just as the heat came, a cold chill ran through it and down my spine. Somehow it soothed the burn.

God, another one? I frowned at the beautiful flower and sighed. It worried me that my soulmate was prone to getting hurt. Sometimes the injuries made sense, like when I found them on my knees, I could easily chalk it up to falling and scraping – but injuries like these were more difficult to decipher.

How does someone normal get hurt this way?

They don’t.

“Unless they’re a criminal.” One of my friends stated dryly days ago.

“Or a hero!” Another said quickly.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in a rush to find out. Whoever this person was, I knew from the start that they were trouble.

The next time I woke, it was to the early morning rays that escaped my curtains and played a fiery dance on my eye lids. I groaned and pulled the covers up wishing I could sleep in for a couple more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t.

A few weeks ago my school, Gotham Academy, announced that they were holding their annual science fair at a convention centre as opposed to the regular school gymnasium, because surprisingly enough, Wayne Enterprise offered to fund the event.

It was no secret that Gotham’s economy was hitting below the desired margin. Many people don’t have jobs which resulted in an influx of crime in the past years. And so Wayne Enterprise collaborated with Gotham’s Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to raise awareness and encourage young minds to strive for a better, innovative future. They shouldered the expenses needed and created an international affair, to top it off; Wayne Ent. also offered scholarships to future college goers and internships in all their branches.

Which was why I couldn’t sleep in today. I had project to work on. In line with our team of sponsors, I decided to invent a weapon that could help the GPD when catching criminals. A gun that projects thin plastic case marbles filled with a chemical concoction that erupts into a quick hardening foam upon impact. The foam itself is not toxic, but it works with catching and detaining. It turns as hard as stone but there was another type of compound that I was in the process of creating to counter act it as a measure of safety.

I got up and started my day.

“Good morning sweetheart.” My mom greeted as I entered the kitchen. She smiled warmly at me as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

I couldn’t help but return the gesture, walking up to her and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Morning Mom, are you working tonight?”

“I have to, but don’t worry I’ll be leaving something in the fridge for dinner.”

I thanked her and took my plate into the living room. Turning on the T.V., I easily found the news channel and watched the latest reports on Gotham’s activities.

Mom sometimes had to work on weekends just to make ends meet, which was one reason why I was so hard to get that scholarship and hopefully the internship as well. The other reason was…

A family picture caught my eye in the middle of the news and I bit back a sigh. My dad, my mom, and me. We all were smiling at the camera.

Dad was part of the Police force and died during a heist. Reports stated he was running after the criminals and got shot before he could capture them. That was another reason I chose this as my project. Dad always wanted to fight for justice, hopefully this invention could help.

I finished up my breakfast and helped my mom with chores before I slipped into science mode and continued tinkering with the project. The projectiles were complete and I was able to make 3 in total, which I stored in a small box encased with extra padding.

It was around evening after my mom left that I got another burn. I dropped the screwdriver I was holding and bit my lip. Gasping for breath I pulled my sleeve and watched another flower blossom on my forearm.

The pain was gone in an instant and the cold tickled the skin that was branded. I sighed and slowly straightened my poster. This person, after all these injuries, they better not die before I meet them. I grumbled to myself when I realised I was short on supplies. Poor planning on my part.

I grabbed my bag and locked the front door before I headed out to the nearest hardware store, careful to keep my marks hidden from view. I’ve lived in Gotham my whole life, and I knew that standing out, even in the smallest way, would lead into trouble.

The walk to the store was short and uneventful, thankfully. There were only a few customers. I manoeuvred my way between the isles and picked up what I needed. After paying at the counter I hauled my goods and ducked back into the streets. I almost wished I didn’t stop when I heard that woman cry out for help. I was unarmed, unprepared, and every cell in my body screamed at me to walk – no – run away from the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

But she was helpless. Clad in a trench coat and rain boots, she didn’t look like much but her bag was definitely designer. The thieves in question had a knife pointed at her face. There were 6 of them. All were towering and bulky next to her petite frame. Their menacing stares struck a cold shiver in me and my hand involuntarily clutched the projectiles I was working on in my pocket. I had a feeling it would be safer with me than it would be at home, however this was not how I imagined I’d first be using them.

The woman screamed again and I clenched my palm.

I sucked in some air and got ready to shout at the perpetrators – until I felt the wind rush past my ear.

In a flash someone had swooped into the scene and kicked the man holding the knife to the ground. The sound of blades being drawn stole my attention. It was Robin. He took a stance between the woman and the men.

“Run. Now.” He told the lady.

She whimpered and scrambled up to her feet dashing towards me, towards the entrance of the alley. She zipped past and didn’t stop running till she turned the corner. I should be running too. But my eyes were fixed on the fight that was about to happen.

Robin seemed no older than me. In reality there was no way he could win against 6 huge men. But then again, this was Robin. No normal teenager.

“6 against 1.” He mused, the grip on his katana tightened. “That hardly seems fair.”

The one who held the knife, possibly the leader of the gang, growled thickly. “Get‘im boys.”

They all rushed towards him at the same time, hands in the air and weapons ready. Robin whipped his blade and easily knocked two knives down, the remaining used their strength and threw punches that looked like it would strike anyone straight to next week. The masked boy effortlessly dodged all their hits. Crouching, jumping, twisting, exactly when needed and not a second too late. His movements were precise; a quick jab below the rib striking the kidney with the handle of the sword, a sharp slam of his elbow to the chin, and to close the deal with a blunt blow force to the side of the neck. The goon fell like a tree that’s been cut down.

I gaped in awe.

The others rushed to avenge their fallen comrade, but Robin was quicker and used his blade to disable them. He kicked one of them into the brick wall, a sickening crunch echoed as the goons’ head smashed into it, then a howl of pain when Robin sliced his back. I cringed at the sight of the blood. It was a superficial wound, at least from my vantage point. The cut was deep enough to hurt and draw red, but not enough to kill.

The next lunged himself and grabbed Robin’s wrist, the boy growled and kicked him the face, forcing to free himself. He couldn’t see the other one running towards them from behind, the weapon aiming straight for Robin’s back.

“Robin!” I found my voice and screamed. “Behind you!”

He did a roundhouse kick and slammed the head of the one holding his wrist, then using the momentum back flipped and kicked the one who was behind.

I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing just standing there?!” He shouted at me as he readied himself again. “I said run!”

That got all the men’s attention. The ones that fell got back up and huffed angrily.

“Get the girl!” The leader shouted. “We can use her.” His leer sent bile rushing up my throat.

I squeaked as 3 of them started to chase me. Finally my legs listened and I dashed across the street onto the other pavement.

They were too fast though, their thundering footsteps grew closer towards me. My lungs burned as I tried to inhale some much needed oxygen, physical sports like running really weren’t my thing. I nearly tripped on an uneven tile as a scream rippled out of my throat. I braced myself for impact but it never came. Instead I felt a rush of wind across my face and a lightness below me. The ground was getting further and further away.

I realised I was being carried. Looking up, I was face to face with Red Robin.

“God thing I saw you when I did or you’d be dead meat.” He said dryly as we landed on a roof.

“Th-thank you.” I breathed, trying to gulp in as much needed air as I could. “Robin – he –“ But I didn’t know how to articulate. The adrenaline rush was messing with my head, and I could barely think straight.

Yet Red Robin nodded, understanding. He jumped off the roof and shot his grappling hook. I peered down and saw the fight started to move, from the alley to the side walk. The goons cornered Robin into a store front and were relentless as they threw punch after punch. The other 3 that were chasing me were already fighting Red just below the building that he deposited me on.

I watched in horror as the glass shattered everywhere around them. They weren’t just normal gangs I discerned, they knew how to fight. And unlike the birds and bat, they didn’t mind taking a life.

Clutching the projectiles again in my pocket, I brought them up with trembling hands.

“I hope this works.” I whispered to myself and pulled out my elastic hair tie.

Hooking one of the orbs onto the elastic, I aimed for the goons attacking Robin, and pulled as far as the band could go. Willing my hand to stop shaking, I said a silent prayer and released my hold.

Time seemed to go into slow motion as it flew across the air. I held my breath.

It hit the ground between two goons and burst into a big foamy cloud of vibrant cobalt, instantly seizing the men and solidified their prison as the concoction cooled.

Both fights stopped for a split second, as they watched the chemical reaction, which now looking back was a mistake on all parties.

I gasped and thanked whoever was listening.

The leader roared and pulled a pistol. I felt my throat tighten as the gun set a bullet free.

Robin and I cried out in pain as the bullet dug into him. Tears threatened to roll down my cheek as I clutched my burning shoulder.

A birdarang zipped towards the leader, catching his wrist and making him let go of the weapon. With a grunt, Robin kicked him hard across the chest stealing the perpetrators breath and with a quick turn, smashed his foot onto the mans jaw, cracking it before letting him fall with a loud thud.

The fight continued and Robin easily subdued his last opponent. Then he ran across the street to finish up with Red. Both of them moved in fluid motions like well trained dancers as they fought while protecting each others weak spots. They took down the last 3 goons and tied them up just as the police sirens blared within the distance.

I jumped up from my spot and turned to run but stopped when I saw the two Robins in my path.

“You.” The younger one started. “You were the one who shot the…”

I nodded wordlessly, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through my body. A nasty red splotch caught my attention and I believe they both noticed as I glanced at it. My own hand went up and clutched my shoulder unconsciously, a cold sensation rippled through where the bullet was.

“Oh my god.”

---

to be continued...

Part 2, 3, 4, 5 (end)

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

into you

request: 51 w Makar? I love that smiley guy sm !

prompt: “Smile.” - “No.” - “You’re smiling, though!” / number 51 off of this list with Cale Makar.

summary: Cale’s teammates like you, but that doesn’t mean they’re not going to chirp him for how into you he is. 

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k

“I don’t know how you managed to trick me into this.” You huffed as you exited your apartment, your ever-smiley best friend waiting patiently for you to lock your door. 

“Because you love me?” He offered, just enough teasing in his voice to have you grinning despite the sleepiness that still had its grips on you. Cale, the redheaded boy who occupied most of your thoughts, led the way to the elevator, chuckling softly to himself at your response, which was little more than an annoyed grumble. 

See, you couldn't let him know just how accurate his teasing response was. You had been head over heels for the sweet boy the moment you saw him offer to pay for an old lady's coffee at the small cafe you worked for. He was cute, sweet, and the way he stumbled over his words as he ordered endeared him to you almost instantly. After him coming into the cafe a few more times, he was brave enough to ask when your shift ended so you could get a cup of coffee with him. You wasted no time in agreeing to go with him, hoping that it would be an impromptu first date, but he gave no sign that he was interested in being anything other than friends. So, you remained in his life, but as the supportive best friend.

Which was how you found yourself in your current position, waking up early on your day off just to go shopping for a charity event that you weren't even sure you wanted to go to. 

The charity part wasn’t the problem, the whole getting up early to shop for a completely new outfit was why you were so annoyed. And since Cale insisted that he paid for you, no matter how vehemently you told him no, he had to come shopping with you. 

Cale, bless his heart, was doing his best to find something you liked. You had given him a gist of what you were looking for, and he finding pieces that actually fit your style. Still, he not everything his picked were winners.

“What about this?” Cale asked, brows furrowed as he studied the fabric. You knew he was serious, but the clothing his picked out was so absolutely ridiculous, you couldn't help but giggle. 

“Cale, it’s neon yellow.” You explained when he looked to you to explain what was wrong with his choice. The redhead’s cheeks turned even more rosy, and you turned back to the rack to try and distract yourself from intrusive thoughts telling you red was now your favorite color. 

He was going to be the death of you.

A few days later found you all dressed up and following Cale into a ballroom packed with people. Your hand was clasped tightly around his wrist as he used his hockey frame to maneuver you through the crowd. A few times you were stopped by someone usually thirty years Cale’s senior to talk to him about hockey statistics and all things related. 

You could tell he was just humoring everyone while looking for an escape. His usual smile replaced by a tight-lipped one that told you he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, though he would never admit it. 

Just because he had to entertain the old men didn’t mean you had to, and when you spotted three blondes standing off to the side, somehow avoiding attention, you knew it was your one chance to get away. Waiting until it was Cale’s turn to talk, you squeezed his forearm and whispered that you were going to talk to Mel before separating. He shot you a pained look that only you spotted, and you grinned mischievously at him. You both knew what you were doing, but it didn't make you feel bad about leaving the redhead with the men that were asking a thousand and one questions. 

As soon as she spotted you, Mel Landeskog was calling your name. Her husband Gabe was standing next to her, arm wrapped securely around her waist. Beside them, Erik Johnson stood, having decided this was an occasion to wear his fake teeth. Shortly after your friendship with Cale developed outside of the cafe you worked at, he introduced you to his team. They were fun to hang out with and you grew close to Mel like she was your older sister, with Gabe and EJ being the annoying brothers. 

“You look fantastic.” Mel complimented, pulling you into a hug as soon as you were within arms reach. You returned the sentiment, Gabe and EJ both taking turns to embrace you annoyingly tight after. The smug look on both of their faces almost made you want to turn back and rejoin Cale in the stifling conversation about Colorado’s third period goal statistics and how to improve them. 

“You two make me nervous.” You chuckled, looking between the boys before raising a brow at Mel for an explanation. You knew you were screwed when you saw she was also grinning at you with a mischievous look on your face.

“So you’re the rookie’s date, huh?” EJ started, wiggling his brows dramatically and in a way that made you cringe. 

“We're just friends, Johnson.” You huffed. Your relationship status with their defenseman was always a topic of interest between the two blondes, and it got even worse when the rest of the team jumped in on the joke—Burky could be relentless in his teasing when he wanted to be.  

“Mhm.” He hummed, looking thoroughly unconvinced, much to your chagrin. Instead of taking the bait like you knew he wanted you to do, you rolled your eyes and turned to Mel, engaging her in conversation about anything other than hockey and boys, more specifically, hockey boys.  To give Gabe and EJ credit, they knew when to draw the line and take a step back. Well, at least you thought they did when they let you and Mel be for all of two minutes before their teasing started up again. Only this time, it wasn't directed at you, though you still were at the center of attention.

“How’d you get such a good-looking date, Cale?” Gabe started, unable to resist the jab and a chance to cause his teammates cheeks to darken. Cale appeared at your side, cheeks just as rosy as you figured they would be but he was taking the chirps in good humor. You, on the other hand, were getting a little annoyed. With the boys constantly making jokes it would only be a matter of time before Cale put together the fact you had a massive crush on him. You were dead set on the idea that of he found out about your feelings, he would be weirded out and you would lose one of your closest friends. 

“I asked nicely.” Cale teased, earning a barking laugh from his teammates. You rolled your eyes at his adorable comment, having expected nothing less from him. 

“I’m not that good-looking.” You absentmindedly commented, causing Cale’s head to whip around to face you. Your own cheeks started to get rosy, and you could only meet his confused look with one of your own.

“You look amazing, I’m lucky that you came with me.” Even more so, your face flushed at his compliment to the point where you were certain that you matched the color of his hair.

“Oh, my god. I’m just going to tell them.” EJ sounded so exasperated, but there was still traces of his smug grin. You and Cale both looked to him for answers, but he was just looking to Gabe and Mel. Gabe seemed to be on the side of EJ spilling whatever it was but Mel was shooting him a stern look. There was some silent discussion, Mel nudging her husband’s shoulder in reprimand for a fault you weren't sure he had made.

“Remember what we were talking about the other day after practice?” Gabe turned his focus to Cale, who for a moment looked at his captain dumbly. You watched with confusion as Cale registered what Gabe had been talking about, before nodding slightly, his lips set in a firm line. Gabe gestured with his thumb over his shoulder towards the balcony, and Cale nodded once more.

You tried not to jump out of your own skin as Cale threaded his fingers through yours and tugged you in the direction his captain had just suggested. You shot Mel a look over your shoulder, but the blonde only gave you two thumbs up, and encouraging smile on her face. 

The Denver night was cold, but it felt nice against your flushed skin. Once the balcony door was shut, Cale dropped your hand and moved to stand at the railing, his grip tight on the metal. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you moved closer to him, placing a shaky hand on his bicep to try and silently coax an answer of what was going on out of him. 

“The guys chirp me a lot.” He leads, and you stay quiet, knowing that was not what he needed you to follow him outside for. “Mostly because I’m the rookie, but also because of you.”

“Me?” The question fell past your lips in little more than a whisper. Cale nodded, turning to face you. You weren’t sure if he meant that his teammates didn't like you, but you felt like that wasn't the reason. At least, you hoped. 

“I’m like, so into you, and they give me so much shit for it.” He confessed, and you felt the corner of your lips turn upwards. 

“I mean, if you’re being sappy then I don't blame them.” You couldn’t help but tease, and you could tell he knew you felt the same when you noticed you beaming up at him. He groaned at your comment, dropping his head back at your comment as he cheeks turned red. “Smile.”

“No.” He shot back, but despite his comment you could tell he was grinning widely.

“You’re smiling, though!” He chuckled at you comment, tilting his head forward to look at you once more. His smile was soft, gaze flicking from your eyes down to your lips and back up. You leaned forward a bit and that was all the invitation Cale needed to duck down to your level press a gentle kiss to your lips. 

The kiss was slow and sweet, just as you expected it to be with Cale. Ever the gentleman, his hands found home on your waist but never explored any further. When you pulled away for air he used his grip on you to anchor you to your spot right in front of him. You weren't sure who was grinning brighter, but you were certain an argument could be made on both of your behalves. Cale was the first to break the silence, you were still too shocked to do speak.

“Yeah, I am smiling.” 

[artificialqueens]

Good Morning Campers, Chapter 1 (Crystal x Gigi) - Gelato

It was another beautiful summer at Camp Blue Springs.

At the start of every June, hundreds of girls flooded to Kansas City, Missouri for seven straight weeks of fun in the sun. Filled with activities from sunrise to sunset, it was the ultimate sleep away camp experience.

Busses filled with excited young ladies, ranging in age from 12 to 17, pulled swiftly into the entrance of the sprawling camp that was nestled just off of Lake Blue Springs. It wasn’t long before thrilled campers began filing out, the once silent camp ground now filled with their voices as they unloaded their bags and reconnected with one another. Some girls were local, others having to endure lengthier trips to reach their destination via bus from across the state or country.

Others had the luxury of a first class seat followed by a private car ride from the airport, a certain leggy red head from California being amongst those few.

Gigi Goode had been a model camper since the summer of ‘84, and was practically bursting with joy at the opportunity to be a Junior Counselor for the class of ‘89. She not only adored the camp and the friends she had made over the years, but was even more thrilled for the volunteer hours she would rack up over the summer to add to her already impressive college applications.

She stepped gingerly out of her private town car onto the dirt road of the camp’s entrance and didn’t hesitate to fill her lungs with fresh, pine-scented air. It truly was her happy place, the great outdoors, the glistening lake,

The girls.

She quite literally shook that last thought from her head. What sort of upstanding young woman from Los Angeles would think such a thing?

It was easy to ignore back home. Spending all her time with school activities, her family, even managing to drum up a relationship with the captain of the lacrosse team. Oh yes, she had the perfect life down pat. The perfect daughter to her parents, a straight A student, the captain of the cheer squad, and a cute athletic boyfriend to match.

But she always felt something was missing deep down inside. A certain itch that needed scratching. Something that she busied herself to no end in order to forget. Something that became that much harder to ignore when it was quite literally in her face. Hundreds of girls, and one camper in particular that always managed to catch her eye.

Crystal Methyd from cabin 702.

She cursed herself after noticing she had been scanning the crowd, hoping to catch a wisp of blue hair amongst them.

“Is that Gigi Goode I see?” A chipper voice snapped her out of her trance. A curvy woman with perfectly quaffed hair and secretary glasses, complete with a clipboard in hand made her way to Gigi.

“Mrs. Davis!” Gigi exclaimed, happy to greet the camp’s director. They embraced briefly, Gigi overjoyed to see the woman that acted as a second mother to her over the years.

“It’s so good to see you, dear! We’re so excited to have you on the team this year. Well, so much to get started on. Once you’ve unloaded your bags we’ll all gather in the pavilion, so keep an ear out for bunk announcements!” Mrs. Davis instructed with a smile before disappearing into the over zealous crowd.

——-

Gigi had a carry on bag and two large suitcases absolutely stuffed with clothes, although they had a uniform code in place. She always accessorized her plain white camp t-shirts and shoes with cute tennis skirts, and of course hoards of fashionable casual pieces on hand to wear for other camp events. Others couldn’t really afford to travel so heavy, but luckily her family paid her driver handsomely to unload each bag with care.

She made her way to the pavilion, running into and latching on to her camp clique along the way.

Gigi, Nicky, Violet, and Naomi had been fast friends since meeting one another on the lake over the years. Each one hailed from wealthy families across the country, or in Nicky’s case, across the Atlantic, as she was the only international camper and traveled all the way from Paris to be here.

They all shared similar passions in excelling in both the beauty and brains department, and had luckily all been bunked together for the years prior, expecting this summer to be no exception.

“I can’t wait for the volleyball tournament, I’ve been practicing my serve all year.” Naomi shared, pleased for the opportunity to show off her athletic prowess.

“Speak for yourself. I can’t stand sweating. I’m just ready for the midsummer formal!” Violet interjected. Having spent all her time back home at an all girl’s catholic school, and summers at an all girl’s camp, she was more than ready for the one night a year that the Blue Mountain’s camp for boys across the lake merged with their own for a dance.

Gigi cringed internally at the thought. She loved the idea of dressing up, having brought several gowns to choose from for the event, but dreaded the idea of a sweaty teenaged boy approaching her for a dance. She barely danced at formals with her boyfriend back home for the similar reason of simply not caring for a man’s touch.

She was taken out of her thoughts by boisterous laughter across from where they were seated in the pavilion. Her head snapped toward the disruption.

Oh no.

The Strange Gang.

Camp wasn’t without its cliques. You put that many teenaged girls together and they were bound to group off with one another.

You had the athletic types, always on the courts and fields. The nerds, spending all their free times bird watching and studying plants and wild life along the lake. The “Heathers”, or so they had only recently been dubbed by their fellow campers the previous year since the movie had been released. Gigi and her friends figured it was better than the “Rich bitches”, and embraced the new name for their entourage.

And then there was the “Strange Gang”. A group of self proclaimed weirdos of the camp. And boy, did they live up to the name. They were often known for elaborate pranks and general mischief.

Crystal, Adore, Katya, and Evie. All grouped together, they were a mess of wild makeup, unnatural colored hair, and body piercings that they somehow got past the Senior Counselors. Gigi, having disdain for any sort of disorder or disruption, loathed them.

Especially Crystal. The loudest and most daring of the group. Breaking dress code left and right with her bright blue hair and gaudy accessories from head to toe. She was always laughing and smiling from ear to ear.

The cutest laugh and most beautiful smile Gigi had ever seen.

But she wouldn’t ever admit that.

“Great. You’d think after years of being social outcasts they wouldn’t bother coming back.” Gigi huffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at the group.

Her eyes locked with Crystal across the pavilion. Had she been staring at her this whole time? Crystal quickly noticed Gigi gazing back at her and her smile grew even wider. She wiggled her fingers in a dainty wave toward the red head.

Gigi flushed pink and quickly averted her eyes. She hated how Crystal made her feel. Almost like she was teasing her. As if she knew exactly how she made her heart beat faster with every look her direction.

“Good morning, Campers!” Miss Davis captured the attention of the crowd with her megaphone from the center stage of the pavilion. The girls shouted a greeting in response.

“Let me just start off by saying how excited we are to have all of you here! We look forward to having the most memorable summer yet! Now listen closely for your bunk assignments. I’ll be starting with our Junior Counselors. As you hear your name, please gather your bags and make your way to the cabins. In bunk 700, that’s 7-0-0, we have miss Trixie Mattel, Courtney Act, Violet Chachki, and Naysha Lopez.” Mrs. Davis announced.

“What? We’re being separated? That can’t be right. I put in a request that we would be together!” Violet couldn’t contain her rage, gesturing between her and Gigi. She flagged down Mrs. Davis from the front row of the stage and pleaded with her to make a change.

“I’m sorry dear, bunk assignments are final until further notice. You’ll just have to make new friends until then.” Mrs. Davis apologized half heartedly before continuing her announcements.

“Hey, it’s alright. I have it good with Mrs. Davis, I’ll just talk to her about it in her office later, we’ll get it fixed.” Gigi whispered assuredly to her heated friend.

“Fine!” Violet exasperated, grabbing her bags and storming from the pavilion to the cabin grounds.

“Now for Cabin 701, that’s 7-0-1, we have Alexis Mateo, Brooke Lynn Heights, Gigi Goode-“

Gigi practically jumped from her seat and began to grab her things, excited to make her way to the bunks.

“- and Crystal Methyd!” Mrs. Davis finished.

Gigi froze.

There was no way. No how. This was some sort of sick joke. One of the Strange Gang’s pranks for sure. How could a trouble maker land a spot as a Junior Counselor?

Her head went dizzy, vision got fuzzy, heart raced, and palms began to sweat. She barely made out the bouncing, teal haired figure that bounded toward her from across the room, a Lisa Frank duffle slung over her shoulder, the stone necklaces around her neck jingling with every step.

“Hi roomie! Need help with your bags?” Crystal greeted warmly, her sweet voice dripping with sincerity and excitement.

Gigi tried her best to return to the surface, but was too late.

She fainted right there on the pavilion’s wooden floors.

———

Gigi’s eyes fluttered open and she let out a soft groan, immediately noticing a sharp twang at the back of her head. Her hand instantly darted between her head and the pillow it rested on to feel the tight knot that had formed from her nasty fall.

Her eyes stayed gazing up at the ceiling, realizing quickly from the florescent lighting and the smell of rubbing alcohol that she had been laying in the infirmary.

“The nurse said not to let you touch it.” A voice piped up next to her.

Gigi’s head snapped quickly to her side, dread quickly filling her once again as she noticed Crystal sitting cross legged in a lounge chair not two feet away. Her eyes zoned in on the flash of hot pink panties visible up Crystal’s skirt from the way she sat. She instantly blushed red from noticing and looked away.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to sit that way with a skirt on? You can see right up it.” She partly fiend anger at the unexpected view.

“Oh, sorry.” Crystal giggled and untucked her legs from underneath each other to sit more properly in the chair. She straightened her back and placed her hands in her lap, her sweet smile never moving from her lips.

“It’s whatever. What are you doing here anyway?” Gigi continued, trying her best to sound more annoyed than elated. She secretly didn’t mind waking up to Crystal by her side, but she wasn’t about to let her know that.

“Mrs. Davis thought it would be best if you had someone to walk with you back to the bunks.” Crystal explained, bouncing up from her perch on the lounge chair and making her way to sit at the edge of Gigi’s infirmary bed.

Her backside sat flush with Gigi’s waist and without a thought, her hand rested on her thigh. Gigi inhaled deeply and tried to remain calm, swiftly sitting up and effectively pulling herself from Crystal’s touch.

“Well, you didn’t have to wait. I’m sure one of my friends will be here any minute to help me back.” Gigi huffed. She was still dizzy from the fall, otherwise she would have left right then and there on her own.

Crystal’s smile fell a bit and her brow furrowed.

“Are you sure? It’s been about two hours..” She replied softly. Her head tilted to the side as she gazed questioningly back at Gigi like a confused puppy.

Gigi’s heart broke slightly from the sense of abandonment by her so called friends, but warmed a little from Crystal’s obvious concern.

It was sweet.

She realized how difficult it would be to keep up this charade of hating her. But her reputation with her friends and the entire camp was on the line. She pulled herself out of her thoughts and emotions.

“Fine. I’ll just go myself.” Gigi replied, not daring to look Crystal in the eye before pulling herself out of the bed and heading straight for the door.

Sore head or not, she couldn’t stay in that room any longer.

——-

Crystal sat puzzled and stared blankly at the empty pillow where Gigi’s head once laid. She reached out and brushed her lime-green painted fingers across it.

It was still warm to the touch.

She really could have left long ago. Hell, she didn’t even have to follow the camp medics as they carried Gigi back to the infirmary. But she insisted on sticking by her side.

The little crush she had on the most popular girl at camp had blossomed into a full blown obsession. She looked forward to every summer spent here, saving every penny earned at the Springfield bowling alley to finance her camp expenses.

She had made great friends along the way, but in all reality she kept coming back for a chance to see Gigi.

“Well, that blows.” She whispered to herself with an exhale, popping up from her seat on the bed and making her way out of the cabin.

She was greeted right away by Adore who had been waiting at the doorway.

“How’d it go?” Her friend asked, raising her eyebrows in question, a coy smile playing at her lips.

“Struck out.” Crystal replied with a shake of the head.

“Yeah, I figured.” Adore laughed, making her way down the infirmary stares ahead of her friend.

“What? And why is that?” Crystal fiend offense.

“Oh, I don’t know. Something about how she practically ran out of here without you anywhere in sight.” Adore laughed uncontrollably, earning herself a playful shove from Crystal.

“I’m still hopeful!” Crystal exclaimed, jumping on Adore’s back for a piggy back ride.

“More like hopeless.” Adore replied jokingly, happily carting Crystal back to the bunks.

____

The Junior Counselor’s cabins had their perks.

Instead of the usual eight to a space, there were only four, meaning more space for each girl to sprawl out and personalize their areas. Gigi had been looking forward to choosing her spot in the cabin and making it her own, so you could only imagine her annoyance that she had missed out at first pick.

The only beds left were across from one another in the back of the cabin, no where near the bright bay window she had dreamed of laying next to at night to watch the moon.

Her bags had already been set next to the bed on the far left side. It sat in a corner under cobwebs and was practically in the dark compared to the other two across the cabin. She flopped onto it, burying her face in her arms and letting out a near silent sob, thankful that her bunkmates hadn’t been there.

This day couldn’t have gotten any worse, or so she thought until she heard now familiar footsteps followed by jangling, chunky jewelry. She quickly sucked her tears back in and wiped away whatever was left on her face.

Crystal slung her duffle bag on top of the empty bed across from Gigi. She hadn’t planned on sleeping this close to her, but did a happy dance in her head at how well it all worked out in her favor.

“Sorry, it’s the only one left.” Crystal apologized to Gigi softly before unloading her belongings onto her bed.

It was amazing how much she could fit into that Lisa Frank duffle. Clothes, shoes, endless necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. She even managed to pack a leopard print blanket and multicolored stuffed animals to decorate with.

Gigi still laid on her stomach, turning her head slightly at the noise Crystal was making while unpacking. She stared in awe at how the wooden walls of the room’s corner now exploded with color.

It had just then registered in her head what Crystal had said just moments before. She.. apologized? Gigi immediately felt guilty. She was a lot of things, but rich and beautiful didn’t make her a bully. That was more Violet and Nicki’s territory. Crystal had really been nothing but sweet to her this whole time, her reputation as a trouble maker aside.

“I’m sorry.” Gigi stated plainly.

Crystal looked back at the red head, confused and taken aback at the unexpected apology.

Gigi sat up.

“Thank you for waiting with me. I guess I was just in a grumpy mood after waking up. I should have thanked you instead of being such a bitch, huh?” Gigi laughed slightly, hoping to God that there were no hard feelings.

“You weren’t a bitch.” Crystal laugh along with her, turning around completely and walking over to Gigi’s side to plop herself beside her.

Their laughter died down and the two sat in silence for a few moments. Gigi took all of Crystal in.

She hadn’t noticed how long and beautiful her legs were. She had a sun-kissed complexion, a stark contrast to Gigi’s milky white skin. Her blue hair, that Gigi once thought to be tacky, actually suited her and tied in well with her dark, almond shaped eyes. She had sharp cheek bones that balanced perfectly with a slender, yet soft face.

Her full, pillowy lips were next. Painted a baby pink with a swipe of shimmery gloss. Lips she had always daydreamed about feeling on her own. How would those lips feel on her neck? Her chest? Between her legs?

They inched closer, slowly bridging the gap between them.

This was happening.

This was real.

Gigi looked into Crystal’s eyes, almost as if asking permission. For what? She had no idea. Maybe just to keep moving closer. Crystal bit her lip lightly and nodded her head slowly. Her eyes locked onto Gigi’s lips.

The door busted open, Nicki and Naomi storming in. Gigi quickly backed away, realizing only then how close her and Crystal’s lips were to touching.

“There you are! See, Naomi, I told you she would be back here by now.” Nicki said, gesturing to Gigi who now hurriedly stood from her bed.

Crystal snapped out of her state of shock at both what had just transpired between her and Gigi and the sudden intrusion.

“Well, that one said she wouldn’t be up for hours so excuse me for thinking she was still in the infirmary.” Naomi rolled her eyes and gestured flippantly at Crystal.

Gigi’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Wait, you came for me?” She asked her friends, suddenly realizing that they hadn’t abandoned her after all. She looked sharply at Crystal, who was now flushed red.

“Of course we came for you. But your little.. friend wouldn’t let us wake you. She said she would see you back herself.” Nicki continued, her brow raised and she crossed her arms.

So Crystal had lied, Gigi thought. For what? She wondered. She shook her head clean of that thought. And with it, shook away everything that had just happened between the two of them in the cabin just then.

“Let’s get out of here.” She sneered, shooting a dirty look in Crystal’s direction before storming out of the cabin with the other two Heather’s in tow.

Crystal sighed and beat herself up mentally for thinking she could get away with stretching the truth earlier. She chastised herself for being so selfish.

Back to square one.