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somedayonbroadway · 4 years ago

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Lilo and Stitch AU

Okay, so here’s my Lilo and Stitch AU for both @disneygirl626 and @dragonflysobright-seethemfly. I absolutely adore this one. It does involve baby Race and that’s always fun to write. And yes, Race and Jack are going to be from Hawaii.

Characters

Jack Kelly — Nani

Racetrack Higgins — Lilo

Crutchie Morris — Stitch

Katherine Plumber — David

Warden Snyder — Captain Gantu

Todd Kloppman — Cobra Bubbles

Henry — Pleakley

Weisel — Jumba

Okay so…

Somewhere up in space, far far away, there is a mad scientist who creates genetic experiments out of aliens that he captures from other planets, most of the time just after they’re born. This alien, Weisel (that's his whole name. He’s an alien) experiments for years before he is finally arrested after his latest experiment, experiment number 626. He is charged with the experimentation of a young child, stolen away from a family that was killed moments afterward.

During the experimentation, this young alien loses one of his legs. He adapts quickly, growing two more legs that he can retract into his body. This child is of a shape shifting species, his skin naturally blue and gold. After the experimentation, where he grew up as this species learns and adapts very quickly, he became erratic and dangerous, a means of destruction.

Having no alternative option, 626 (who was never given another name) is sentenced to be executed. He doesn’t fully understand this. All 626 knows is that he’s placed in a small capsule and needs to survive. So he does, fighting his way out and escaping in a pod as his kidnapper is placed in prison having witnessed the whole thing. Weisel is pleased with his creation, noting that 626 is randomly heading in the direction of Earth.

After 626 escapes, a bounty hunter, Snyder, loyal to the Galactic Federation, offers to hunt the experiment down and dispose of him, seeing 626 as a creature unworthy of saving. The head of the federation asks him to wait, asking another member of the federation, a federal agent who is an “Earth Expert”, to take Weisel and find the experiment without causing harm to Earth, with whom they were supposed to protect according to documents they’d signed a decade ago.

Simply living off of instinct (and maybe a bit of sadistic adrenaline) 626 crash lands on Earth, getting hurt by a truck, but surviving the crash easily with his modified strength and healing power. As the driver figures out he has to check and see what he’d hit, the alien catches sight of a puppy, cowering away from him in some nearby grass and transforms himself down to look like that animal, though his still has a streak of blue running down his back as the rest of him remains a golden shade. (He does look more like Stitch than an actual puppy, obviously. But he’s doing his best here.) The driver calls a local shelter and 626 lets himself be taken in, unsure of what’s really happening.

Meanwhile, Kaua’i, Hawaii, a young man, nineteen years old, is struggling to gain permanent custody of his six year old baby brother, as both of their parents had recently been killed in a car crash. Jack is having a hard time making ends meet with only a job as a waiter at a local luau to tie him and his brother over.

The baby brother, Tyler James, is an odd child. He’s socially awkward, having odd interests and thoughts about life. The kid has always had a rough time making friends, mostly scaring them off with weird facts about the island they live on and the ocean surrounding them. Though he tries to fit in, he often finds himself feeling alone, prompting him to make his own toy dolls and pretend that they’re his friends instead, worrying his big brother Jack who only wants him to be happy.

Every morning, Jack runs to work after dropping his brother, whom he affectionately calls Racer because of his speed and his love to run, off at the beach right across from his school. Race loves to explore the island, knowing the entire thing like the back of his hand. In the morning, Race likes to go swimming, feeding Pudge (a fish that he believes to control the weather) a PB&J sandwich, the same one Jack makes for him everyday for lunch. He knows he’s not gonna eat it, so he hopes it’ll keep the sun in the sky.

Dripping wet and all, Race goes to school, leaving puddles around him, making his classmates slip, only adding onto the hatred they held for him for being different. On this particular morning, Oscar Delancey, Race’s biggest bully, slips and blames Race for it. After a teacher finds them arguing, Oscar wrestling Race to the ground, being a year older and slightly bigger than him, they ask what happened and Race goes off on a rant about how he had to feed Pudge and how Pudge controls the weather. Oscar calls him crazy.

So Race bites him.

His teacher tells him he’d call Jack and Tyler cries, begging him not to as he’s often sent away from the other kids and he’s subconsciously getting tired of the isolation. Still the teacher insists, asking Race to wait outside.

Race runs away the second his teacher leaves him.

When Jack goes to pick him up, he finds Race gone and he immediately starts running home, knowing they had a meeting with their social worker that day and knowing what happened when Race gets into one of his “moods”. He nearly gets hit by a car. He kicks the bumper and screams at the driver, calling him a not so nice name and running off.

He finds that the doors to their house are bolted and nailed shut and one of their parents' old Elvis records is blaring throughout the living place. As Jack demands Race open the door, he peaks in through the mail slot to find his brother ignoring him. Frustrated, Jack starts threatening Race, like any brother would, telling him that when he got through with him he wouldn’t dare do this ever again, though both of them knew Jack would never lay a hand on the kid.

As he’s running around his home, trying every possible entrance only to run into one Todd Kloppman, introducing himself as a not so nice name, making Jack realize that he’d been in the car that had nearly hit him. Already horrified at this, Jack manages to play off the fact that he’ll have to let him in in a moment and he runs around the house, climbing in through an open window and prying the nails from the front door as quickly as he can to let the man in.

Upon walking into the house, Kloppman asks if Jack had left Race home alone and before Jack can explain, Todd finds Race practicing voodoo on the floor of the living room as Jack tries desperately to turn off the stove and the oven that Race had turned on, probably for no reason at all. Even after all of this, Race manages to tell Kloppman how well adjusted he was and how Jack fed him well. Trying to give him a silent encouragement, the kid accidentally tells Kloppman that he gets disciplined, implying that Jack had, at least at some point, hit him.

Todd then speaks to Jack alone, telling him that he only ever got called when things went wrong and then he gives Race a card, telling him to call if he was ever left alone again.

Race thinks nothing of it, hardly even paying attention to the man.

As he leaves, Kloppman informs Jack that this had not gone well and that Jack had three days to change his mind.

The second Kloppman leaves, Jack turns on Race and Race screams and runs, knowing he was about to be chased.

Eventually, Jack manages to set up a trap to catch Race and he holds him to him, not letting him run away, trying so hard to explain to Race why it was important for him to take these visits seriously. Race still doesn’t seem to get it, leading to another fight. Race locks himself in his room (well, not locks because he’s a child and his door doesn’t have a lock) and Jack throws himself down at the bottom of the stairs, trying desperately not to cry.

It only takes an hour for Jack to gather himself, heating up a plate of pizza for his baby brother and taking it to him, apologizing and holding Race in his lap while he eats, laughing with him a little as Race admits he likes Jack better as a brother than a dad. All Jack can do is kiss his head and hold him, unsure of what to say. Race calls them a broken family.

Before they know it, Race spots something in the sky, something he calls a falling star, but one that looks odd to Jack. Race calls the star and kicks Jack out of his room so he can make his wish. Jack sits just outside his door, listening to every heartbreaking word as Race wishes for an angel to be sent to him, one that wouldn’t leave him or make fun of him or treat him differently.

Little do they know, that shooting star is a fallen spaceship.

The next day, trying to make his brother feel better, Jack tales Race down to the animal shelter, telling him that he could pick out a pet and they would take care of it. Jack is only a little stressed out about funds but convinced himself that they could make it work.

Race goes back to pick out a puppy and finds a golden pup that’s laying all alone in the corner. He sees a lot of himself in this puppy that has a blue stripe running down his back and chooses him, telling the dog to follow him out. It does.

When they come out, Jack and the woman at the front counter are horrified at the sight of this deformed dog with a missing leg, but Tyler insists and Jack caves, unable to pass up the opportunity of seeing Race happy. So they take the thing home, unknowingly being watched and followed by two aliens who were after 626, now known as Crutchie by the odd little boy who named him.

Henry is the only thing that stops Weisel from harming Tyler to get to Crutchie.

Jack often lets Race wander around. After all, they live in a small town and he knows most of the people around. He gives Race a couple of dollars and tells Race to meet him at two. So Race shows Crutchie around the island.

Crutchie, who has been programmed to destroy, is looking for something to wreck, but finds nothing, as he’s looking for big cities who are already prone to bad things happening.

In the middle of town, Race runs into Oscar who immediately starts to belittle him only to get nearly bitten by Crutchie who ends up stealing his bike and trashing it, before they head to the luau to meet Jack.

The entire time they’d been exploring the island, Weisel and Henry had been keeping close and Crutchie knew it. For some reason he can’t explain, he feels the need to protect Race as well as himself. He likes Race and doesn’t want to hurt him.

The same cannot be said for Jack.

At the restaurant, Jack is able to feed Race for free twice a week so he often has lunch or dinner there.

At the luau, Katherine is up on stage, a fire dancer, entertainment for the luau. Jack is hopelessly in love with her but refrains from asking her out for the sake of fully adopting Race as his own. Race knows this and feels guilty for it. He tells Crutchie all about it, somehow knowing that Crutchie understands him. (How Crutchie knows English at this point is unknown, but like I said, he adapts fast).

While he’s working, Jack steps away from the table after begging Race to eat his food, trying to bribe him with dessert but only succeeding in getting Crutchie to hiss at him.

When Jack leaves, Weisel, against Henry’s warnings, tries to capture Crutchie, only resulting in chaos which Jack is blamed and fired for. Katherine tries to convince their manager to let Jack stay, but, unwilling to be humiliated in front of Race, Jack accepts it and scoops Race up, going home, Crutchie following closely behind them. When Race asks Jack if this was his fault, Jack brushes it off, telling Race that the manager was a vampire and that he wanted Jack to join an army of the undead. Race just shrugs and says he knew it.

When they get home, Jack loses it tries to remain calm but, after seeing Crutchie try and rip around the sofa, his anger catches up with him all at once as he tries to grab Crutchie and take him back to the shelter, getting a fight from both Crutchie and Race who’s never seen Jack like this before. Just as Jack gets Crutchie to the door, shouting that the dog hadn’t been there that long, Race counters that he hadn’t either and then he asks what happened to O’hana.

Jack breaks at that, missing his parents so badly as Crutchie calms down and Race rushes to hug Jack who brushes away his tears and promises that he’s okay, even though he couldn’t be farther from it. But he lets Race take Crutchie into his room to sleep where Race finds that Crutchie likes to build with his blocks and then destroy his own creations.

Watching from outside, Weisel is stunned by this, finding that Crutchie is still creating things, even though he may destroy them after. It goes against his programming.

The next morning, Jack wakes up to find Kloppman at his door, concerned about the job he lost and this new puppy that is untrained and seems to be causing nothing but trouble. Jack swears that he’ll find a job and takes Race out with him while looking, terrified the boy might get into more trouble without him.

Every potential job Jack might have is ruined by Crutchie who is still on the run from Weisel and Henry who are around every corner.

Even at the beach, where Jack finds there’s an opening for a lifeguard position, Crutchie manages to ruin it for him, chasing the people at the beach away. Jack is extremely dejected by this, but perks up when Katherine sits down next to him with two surfboards, offering him one as she challenges him to beat her to the water.

Jack scoops Race up on his way out and Race just giggles, loving it when Jack takes him surfing.

Reluctantly, needing to stay close to Tyler in order to ensure his own safety, he goes with them, despite his intense fear of water. To his surprise he ends up liking it and to Jack’s surprise, he ends up not minding that Crutchie’s there.

Jack loves being out on the water with Race. He used to take Race surfing with their parents all the time, always catching him in his arms when they wiped out. Race loves the ocean.

Seeing that Crutchie is out on the water and is in a vulnerable position, as he can’t swim and will sink instead of float, Weisel says that they’re going swimming, confusing Henry as they go to get Crutchie, managing to knock Jack and Race off of their board and get Jack hit in the head as they do, forcing Katherine to jump in and help them. When Jack recovers after a moment, Race panics and asks about Crutchie who did not resurface. But when Jack looks around for him, Crutchie breaks from the water and claws at Tyler who he ends up dragging down with him.

Jack dives down, kicking Crutchie off of Race and swimming him back to shore, coddling him as he cradled him to his chest and kissed him over and over again. (Jack does call Race baby. He’s always been really affectionate, even more so after they’re parents died). Katherine dives back down for Crutchie who she manages to save, though Crutchie awakes destructive and lashes out at Race, scratching into his shoulder.

When Jack looks up, he finds Kloppman watching them from afar and he asks Katherine to hold Race while he talks to him, trying to explain only for Todd to tell him that it’s over and that Race needs to be relocated to another family, asking for Jack to think about what’s best for the boy.

Unable to argue, Jack goes back to Race and holds him tight, carrying him back home as Katherine mutters that she thought they had a chance until Crutchie came along.

Crutchie follows them home. Race and Jack don’t even notice.

That night, Jack sits Race down in the hammock in their backyard and sings to him, giving him a flower that matches one that he holds in his own hand. The song he sings is one of a goodbye and Race doesn’t understand it as the wind carries their flowers away. But he leans into Jack and lets his brother hold him until he falls asleep.

That night, Race is frustrated when he wakes up in his own bed and hears the window open. Crutchie is standing there, ready to run and Race doesn’t seem at all surprised by this. He just tells Crutchie that he can leave if he wants. But if he stays, they’ll take care of him. He tells Crutchie that Jack’s really good at taking care of people.

But Crutchie does leave, regretting it only when he can’t find his way back to Race and Jack. What he doesn’t know is that Weisel and Henry have gotten fired by the federation and Weisel is excited to do things his way.

Still living on instinct, Crutchie flees unknowingly back towards the Kelly house.

In the morning, Jack is crying over his cereal when Race sulks into the room, upset that Crutchie left. Jack hugs him and tries to explain to him what’s about to happen, that they may never see each other again and that it was all gonna be okay. But Jack can’t get the words out.

He’s saved by a knock at the door which is revealed to be Katherine, telling him that she found him a job. So Jack runs into town, making Race promise not to open the door for anybody, hope filling his chest as he thinks maybe if he gets a job, they won’t take his brother away.

The moment Jack leaves, Crutchie comes crashing back, Weisel hot in his tail as Henry grabs the boy, trying to keep him out of harm's way. Unsure of what to do, Race calls Kloppman because he’s scared but Crutchie is protecting him.

Weisel ends up setting the house on fire.

When Jack hears the sirens after getting the job, he knows. He doesn’t wanna believe it, but he just knows. So he literally runs back home, Katherine right behind him.

He finds Kloppman carrying Race to the back of his car, shutting him in. And Jack loses it. He starts sobbing, begging Kloppman not to do this. He tries to explain that he’s the only one who understands Race and that Race needs him and won’t stand a chance without him. Kloppman asks him angrily if this is really what Tyler needs, pointing to a burned down house. He then tells Jack that it seems like Jack needs Tyler a lot more than Tyler needs him.

That’s what breaks Jack.

(Which, honestly… how horrible? This kid just lost both of his parents too and is now losing the only thing he has left and, I know they’re trying to do right by the underage child, but I mean… that’s so sad. No one took into account how Nani was feeling having to lose her entire family even though she was trying her best to keep what was left of her broken family. Anyway…)

He falls to his knees, letting Katherine wrap him up in her arms, trying to calm him as Jack begs Kloppman to just let him say goodbye even though Kloppman is insisting that he’s making this harder than it needs to be.

Unbeknownst to them, Race, a very smart little six year old, is listening to the whole thing, sobbing as he finally understands what’s actually happening. He unlocks the door that leads out into the woods beside their house and runs away.

He stumbles upon Crutchie who’s still running and Crutchie sees how broken he is. Reluctantly, he reveals himself to the boy, letting his true form show and scaring Race for only a moment before Race gets angry, realizing that if they hadn’t gotten Crutchie, he’d be able to stay with Jack.

While trying to run again, Crutchie and Race both manage to get captured by Snyder who was sent to hunt down 626. Snyder doesn’t seem at all bothered by the capture of an innocent little boy and states that he caught a snack for the road, though he locks him up with Crutchie who escapes easily and tries to pull Race with him before Snyder takes off, taking Race with him.

Realizing that Race isn’t in the car when he tries to drive off, Kloppman gets out and starts calling for him. So Jack runs into the woods to find him, knowing that Race loves to play hide and seek in those woods and knows it’s a place where he’s hard to find. So he rushes out alone, screaming for his brother to come back to him.

He sees Race get picked up by a monster and locked in the back of a spaceship. Terrified and confused, Jack screams out for Race, catching the attention of Crutchie who is immediately apprehended by Weisel and Henry. Henry sees Jack and apologizes, going to knock him out to try and get him to believe it was all just a dream, but Jack’s quicker than that. And he cries out about Race, demanding to know where he is. When they admit they know who Jack’s talking about he tells them to bring him back. Henry tells him that they can’t.

So Jack falls to his knees in pure agony, unable to handle another loss.

Crutchie kneels down beside him, saying o’hana. Weisel tries to pull him away but Jack stops him, asking Crutchie to say it again. So Crutchie does, promising Jack that no ones gonna get left behind and then telling Weisel that he’d go with him quietly if they went to rescue Race.

So they do.

Jack is not a good flyer, in case anyone’s wondering.

They catch up to Snyder, showing him that he in fact did not have Crutchie in his possession. When Jack sees Race who is struggling to breathe as they get high and high up, he starts panicking, trying to get to the top of the ship to encourage Race to jump down to him, but Crutchie doesn’t let him. Instead, he jumps from one ship to the next, putting Tyler on his back and getting Snyder to crash his ship while trying to fight him, only caught by Weisel at the last minute, avoiding death.

They crash land in the ocean and Jack is holding Race the whole time, even as they’re submerged in water. And then he swims them both back to shore.

Crutchie hugs Race and then goes to turn himself in, but Race then tells Weisel that it would be stealing if he did that because they bought Crutchie from an animal shelter which made him part of their family and he couldn’t do that.

Kloppman steps in to tell Weisel that this is true. Jack tightens his grip on Race, fearing that Todd might rip him away again. Kloppman explains that he used to work for the CIA, specializing in extraterrestrial activity. Then he offers Jack a second chance, explaining to him that he knew Race would be safe with Jack from now on.

Jack takes Race and Crutchie home, making their own little family with Katherine who he finally asks out on a date and things are just perfect for a while.

What do you guys think? Wanna see any scenes? Feel free to send me an ask!

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thesmalltowngal · 5 years ago

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COC Snowbaz 3- The Dragon Boy, the Vampire, and Crup

COC #3: Magickal Creatures

Baz and Simon adopt a... dog...?

~ This is much fluff and I had so much fun writing this one. A weird amount of fun. Enjoy! ~

Somehow, I roped Baz into adopting a dog with me. It took hours of convincing, begging and doing some other… things. (Him, mostly.) He said Snow, I’m not your keeper. If you want a dog, get a dog. To which I frowned and replied, But Baaazzzzz. I want a dog with you! Together! That seemed to soften him up. Plus, all I really have to do to convince him to do anything is kiss him softly and work my jaw the way he loves- that always seems to shut him right up. He finally relented, and now here we are at the pound, ready to get a little best friend.

As soon as Baz steps in, he picks his shoe up, inspecting the muck on it that I don’t even see. “Snow, this… pound is as dirty as our room in the morning.” I look around theatrically and then shush him.

“Keep our sexual habits to yourself, Basil,” He rolls his eyes, but I can see a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He walks toward the front desk and it greeted by a short blonde woman. I’m bouncing on my heels, ready to see the dogs, and my invisible tail smacks Baz in the arse. He shoots me a warning glare. (Warning for what, I don’t know. He seems to like my tail, so…)

“Hello, lads! How might I help you?” Grumpy Baz collects himself and stands up straighter, more composed than he was when we walked in. After all this time away from his father, he still feels the need to be cool and nonchalant when he talks to people. I give his hand a squeeze.

“We’re here to…” He looks back and sighs at me, finally giving in to being happy. A full smile appears on his face. (Crowley, I love it when he smiles.) “Adopt a dog. Show us your finest.” The woman smiles brightly at us, looks down at our conjoined hands, and then smiles even brighter. She sports a pride pin on her vest.

“Right this way, dears!” She leads us into a separate room where there are dogs all around in kennels, categorized by breeds. “Take your time- this is a tough decision! We have some great options here. Just call me back when you want to take a walk with one of them.” She leaves us alone with all of the dogs and they are all so cute that I think I might just explode.

I tug on Baz’s sleeve hurriedly. “Oh, Baz! Can we get all of them??” I give him my best puppy dog eyes (pun intended), and he smiles a lopsided smile at me.

“Now Simon, this is of the utmost importance. We mustn’t simply decide based on the ‘cuteness factor’. We must take time to evaluate. In short, no, we cannot adopt every single dog in here.” I frown at him, but he keeps dragging me along slowly as he scrutinizes each puppy in each cage dramatically. There are some bigger black dogs that are really energetic, but we don’t have room in our apartment for a larger dog.

“Sorry, puppies,” I say as I scratch them on the ear as I walk by. They whimper behind me and my heart breaks a little.

In another cage, I see five Cocker Spaniels, and I almost point them out to Baz, but then I think of Agatha and I decide to not say anything about them. I’m happy that I chose Baz; it was the best bloody decision of my entire life.

“Hey, babies? Will one of you come with us? Huh? Are you gonna get a home?” I put on my best baby voice while I talk to them. When I talk about a home, Baz looks down at me sympathetically, but I wave him off. I haven’t even thought of my orphanage experiences once since we got here. I have a home now- with Baz.

Soon, we’re almost to the end of the line, when Baz abruptly stops in front of a kennel and crouches down to see the dog inside. It’s white with brown spots and it has… a forked tail?! So cool. It’s jumped up against the bars and snuggling against Baz as he scratches his/her ear. His face breaks out into a grin.

“C’mere, Simon. Come meet this one,” He sounds so happy that I can’t help myself as I gravitate toward him and sit down in front of the dog. It backs away slightly at first, but then it hesitantly comes closer. I put out my hand and it starts sniffing me like it’s on a mission. I tentatively pet it, and it lets me, but it kind of nips at my fingers a little bit. It reminds me of Baz- careful to not get too close, always scrutinizing me. But I think it would be very loyal and loving if we got to know each other.

“I dunno, Baz. I don’t think it liked me very much…” But even as I express my concerns, Baz is already going to get the lady. She comes back (her name tag says Amanda- I hadn’t noticed before) and unlocks the kennel with the single puppy in it. She holds it in her arms as she tells us more about it.

“This little guy is definitely peculiar. A Jack Russell Terrier… of sorts. He doesn’t seem to like people to get too close, but,” She pauses as the dog climbs out of her arms and jumps into Baz’s. He catches it and smiles wildly. “He seems to have taken a liking to you!”

“What’s its name?” I ask as Baz brings the dog closer to me, sniffing around where my wings are.

“Crup! It came on his collar when he wandered to our door two days ago. He hasn’t been eating much, but boy is he energetic! And he’s the only puppy I’ve ever seen with a forked tail. He’s a pretty special guy. I reckon about three weeks old,” She pauses, looking at the both of us petting Crup. “Would you like to take him out for a walk?”

“Very much so,” I say as Baz shakes his head enthusiastically. I think he’s more sure about this dog then he’s ever been about me. It’s nice to see him so… open and playful. Maybe he wants this dog more than me. I let out a little laugh despite myself.

Amanda takes us out back to walk and play with Crup a little, and I’ve never seen Baz so playful and happy. He runs around with him, finally having a companion as fast as him. When they get done, Baz comes to sit with Crup and I in the grass. The puppy wanders over to me and I let him sit in my lap, scratching him behind the ears. As the dog smells around me and licks me carefully, Baz looks at me, a joyful look in his eyes.

“So? What do we think?” He asks me urgently.

“I think,” I lean in and kiss him softly with Crup still in my arms, wagging his forked tail. I lean back a little and rest my forehead on Baz’s. “That we found our dog.” He smiles back at me as he stands up and offers me his hand.

“Our dog. I could get used to that, Snow.”

…

“Why won’t he eat, Baz?” We’ve had Crup at home for a couple of days now, and he’s been just bloody lovely, except he refuses to eat dog food! We’ve tried practically every kind so far. Baz huffs around our room, holding Crup.

“Snow, have you ever heard the word ‘Crup’ before? It sounds familiar…”

“Well, not that I know of,”

“Let me make a call. Hold the dog.” He puts the dog back in my arms and wanders into our living room. I can hear him speaking urgently on the phone. When he finally comes back into the room, he pulls on his hair and mutters something frustratedly.

“Of-fucking-course, when we get a dog it would have to be a Crup-”

“What is a Crup, Basilton?!” I yell at him. I put the dog down for a second and grab Baz’s hands, willing him to stop and look at me.

“Well, Mr. Scamander down in Essex says that we got the one kind of bloody dog that eats gnomes. Fucking gnomes, Snow. He’s loyal to wizards, but an absolute terror to Normals. So,” He sighs defeatedly and sits on our bed next to me. “What do you propose we do?” I look down at the little puppy, looking so hungry but still so kind as he curls around my feet. Maybe I’m not so Normal and boring as I thought. Maybe I haven’t lost everything magic about me.

“I s’pose we just have to get some gnomes. C’mon then, Baz.” I get up, extending a hand out to him. He sighs, looking down at Crup. Then he smiles and takes my hand.

As we walk down to his car, he looks at me thoughtfully. “Hey Simon?” He whispers.

“Yeah?” He takes my hand and pulls me in to gently kiss my temple. After all this time, I still get butterflies when he does that.

“Turns out you’re not so Normal, after all.”

“I guess not.” I smile widely at him and use my tail to smack him on the arse again. He cocks and eyebrow at me and pushes me against the wall.

“Do that again, and we’ll never make it out of here to get the gnomes…” I bite my lip, but stop anyway. For now, we have to go get our wizard-loving dog some gnomes.

“Let’s go get our magickal dog some magickal food, you arsehole.” He laughs as I bump into him with my shoulder and then take his hand.

Nothing about the dragon boy and the vampire with the magickal dog is Normal by any means.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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kingofdirtandnothing · 4 years ago

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@polyfacetious whoops this is four thousand words long

“So Parker was right. This is where you’ve been spending your gardening leave.” Rose Teller has a remarkable gift for looking exhausted, no matter the time of day. Alice has always respected her for it, for not giving in to wearing make up, for not slipping into the loo to touch up lipstick or eyeliner before dealing with a suspect. They played to different roles, and Teller’s role was that of the put upon school marm.

Even here, where she’s followed Peter’s lack of good sense to find Alice where she wasn’t supposed to be.

It was a bit like a bruise, or a bad tooth. Something Alice couldn’t stop probing, feeling the pang that came with sitting here and remembering Henry Madsen, hanging by his fingernails and begging to be saved. He didn’t much like when she asked if Adrian had begged to be saved as well. Or Gabriella. Or Emma, who Alice dug out with her own two hands.

Liar! Her voice had rung out through the big, empty space around them, ricocheting accusingly back down on them both. There were few things in this world that Alice hated more than a liar. But Madsen had given her the information she needed, and Peter Parker, he of the endlessly loyal friend variety, had hung up the phone. Plausible deniability.

Teller was still talking. Alice blinks, dragging her mind up through the depths of the past and into the present, just in time to hear “- have the Madsen verdict. Given the exceptional circumstances, the inquiry have found no grounds for disciplinary action. Which means you’re back...if you want it.”

Alice had thought about it once, very briefly. What it would be like to give up the job. To bin her badge and walk away. Travel the world. Swim with the sharks. Be an honest to God person and not a string of late nights turned second shifts with corpses dancing behind her eyelids every time she dared close them.

“I want it.”

She gets the speech about following orders and being a good girl. Alice makes sure to compliment Teller on the speech. Staying on the boss’s good side was paramount right now. And it’s the thought that fills her head until she’s brought up to the car, and the green eyed little puppy of a Sergeant who was waiting for them. He says welcome back, or whatever.

DS Klaus Hargreeves. Alice shakes his hand. Teller leaves them be. Well, it looked like she’d have a new babysitter. “Do we need to have the talk, DS Hargreeves?” It was like Rose’s exhaustion was contagious. It wasn’t yet nine in the morning and already Alice felt like she was swimming in mud. Hargreeves murmurs a worried little the talk, ma’am and Alice waves that away. “Ma’am is Teller. Boss is fine. The talk is simply...I was unwell.” Liar. “I got better. Nothing more.”

Hargreeves nods along, an eager little puppy. Alice would guess middle child. Only ever managed to get attention by acting out. Now he was trying to do it the “right way”. He tells her that he’s been lobbying to work with her for nine months now. Chasing it up in writing three times a week. Well. The puppy was very stubborn. Some of the ice in her chest thaws. “Tell me about the case.”

Conversation is easy after that. Hargreeves--Klaus hands her the folder and starts towards the scene. “Home invasion.” Alice hides her smile in the manila folder as Klaus swallows a ‘ma’am’. Mommy issues, maybe. He didn’t feel like daddy issues. “Victim is Zoe Luther. Humanitarian lawyer. Found dead in the home. Trauma to the back of the head. Broken neck.”

Alice flips the page over, asks who found her. “The husband. John Luther. Owns a used bookshop. He said he was at the shops, got a call from the wife saying someone was in the home. By the time he made it back, she was dead. Call records do show that Zoe Luther’s phone had a seven minute outbound call to the husband’s phone. 999 call was made an additional four minutes after, from the husband’s phone.”

She bites down on her thumbnail, looking over the words. Alice tries not to let herself make any assumptions this early. She lets the data points wash over her, so that the sediment of them can settle into her mind. “Witnesses?”

Klaus turns onto a quaint little street, lit up by blues and twos splashing their colors along the sides of the houses. There were couples and families huddled on their porches, breathing through the relief of knowing they’d survived something terrible, somehow. “Neighbors saw the husband come home in a rush. Heard screams. One called 999 approximately thirty seconds after the husband did.”

They step out of the car, and Alice is grateful she chose flats today. Heels were for office days, when she needed to cut a particular image when dealing with the suspect. She kept a pair in the bottom drawer of her desk, just for that reason. Alice badges the uniform standing guard in front of all the rubber-neckers with their phones. Klaus holds the caution tape up for her to slip under. What a gentleman.

There are flowers on the front stoop, petals spilling out of the cheap plastic lining. A few have been trampled by CSI, carrying bootprints against soft yellows and pinks. There’s dust on the forced lock, though she doubts they’ll get any fingerprints that belong to someone other than the homeowners.

The living room is a picture of normalcy. A glass of wine on the coffee table, the TV turned low and the news playing on in the background. It was only stepping into the kitchen that the truth of the night unfolded. Alice stays there, just inside of the doorway and lets all of it wash over her.

A broken glass, a broken dish. A photo frame knocked over onto the floor. Scratches on the parquette from the kitchen table being forcefully pushed back. And Zoe Luther. A cold heap on the floor, looking like a discarded doll with her halo of dark curls and her wool socks. “Cutlery isn’t silver. The coffee machine is nice, expensive enough to pawn.”

Klaus steps up behind her, and clever boy, he picks up the thread of her thought and keeps going. “Nothing was taken, according to the husband.” There it is. The heavy stone growing in the pit of her stomach. A feeling of going against the grain, beneath her skin.

“So we have a home invasion. Obvious signs of rage.” Alice gestures idly towards the broken pantry door. “No sexual abuse. Nothing stolen. Does any of this sound right to you, DS Hargreeves?”

She likes Hargreeves all the more for the fact that he doesn’t answer immediately. He looks the room over, looks the body over. “No. Nothing about this seems right.”

“Because it’s not.”

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

They stop off on the way back to the station to get real coffee, and Alice gets a muffin that she picks at during the drive. She bins the bottom half of it when they walk into the precinct. Teller is already waiting. The husband is in the interview room. Hargreeves mutters christ, that’s a big lad and Alice has to agree.

John Luther nearly fills the side of the screen where he’s slumped in the interview chair, wearing one of the paper suits they give to suspects and pick ups who come in covered in blood. Uniforms that responded to the call wrote in the file that he was cradling his wife’s body when they made it to the scene. Which means he spent at least ten or fifteen minutes in the back of a patrol car with his wife’s brain matter stuck to his shirt.

Teller gives her a look. Alice stops by her desk. She touches up her red lipstick and pulls the pair of black patent leather pumps from her bottom drawer and replaces her sensible flats with those. Hargreeves steals a look, and then looks away. Good boy.

Alice knows how it changes her. Her demeanor, her gait. Her posture. She plucks the folder from the desk and strides into the interview room, so that she can get her first real impression of John Luther.

“Mr. Luther. I’m DCI Alice Morgan. I’m the senior investigating officer on the case. Do you mind if I sit?” His eyes flit briefly to her legs, and then skip away. A normal response. And given the day he’s had, it may well be the sound of them drawing his attention. Luther nods, big hands curled into loose fists on the table in front of him.

On first whiff, nothing about him rings any alarm bells. A big lad, as Hargreeves phrased it, but Luther wasn’t weaponizing it. His slouch didn’t feel calculated. It felt tired. She asks him as much, gets a gravelly ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired’ in response. Alice touches the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and comes away with a smudge of red.

“I know everything must seem bleak right now, Mr. Luther.” Alice has given this speech so many times that she could do it in her sleep. She’s learned to make her voice soft, her eyes soft. No matter what she’s really thinking, families of victims needed to feel empathized with. “But I promise you, I will do everything in my power to find who did this, and bring them to justice.”

Alice reaches across the table, finger hovering over the button for the recorder. Luther nods before she has the chance to ask. The sound of the recorder spinning up carries in the quiet. “Unfortunately, John-” A calculated risk. He doesn’t seem upset by it. Alice pushes on. “I’ll need to ask you some very uncomfortable questions. Can you think of anyone who might have held a grudge against your wife? You don’t need proof or excuses, it can simply be a feeling of unease.”

Like the one sitting at the base of her skull that Alice couldn’t banish, no matter the evidence laid out in front of her. The primal part of her mind, the dark corners who existed solely to keep her alive, they were ringing hard bells. This man was a killer. She didn’t know how, but she knew.

Luther scrubs a hand over his mouth. His voice shakes when he tells her that he can’t think of anyone, that Zoe was a good woman, a gracious woman that used her time to help people, that he couldn’t think of anyone who would want to hurt her-

His voice breaks, and the emotion in it is genuine. Just like the emotion in his dark eyes.

“Alright. Take a breath for me now. It’s alright.” It feels like rote sometimes, coming in here and saying these things. Alice’s strengths were in the field, it was in reading the minds of the corrupt and the cruel. She wasn’t made for dealing with bereaved loved ones. “Now I have to ask. Were there any marital problems? Were you two working on things? Zoe didn’t have her wedding ring on.”

John’s head tilts there, just a fraction of an inch. Alice thinks gotcha gleefully to herself. “We had a trial separation. We tried it, we didn’t like it. Zoe told me to come home. So I did.” There. There, there, there, each warning clang of a church bell in the back of her skull was watching some of that grief get burned away. By anger. (No mention of the ring. He knew it was gone. Bastard.)

“The thing is John, this is a very singular crime. There was no sign of robbery, and I’m very sorry for having to say these things... no sign of sexual assault.” Alice watches for a flinch, for some kind of reaction. Nothing. Just dark, clever eyes focused on her. But his hands were perfectly still on the table. Not fists. “Crimes like this aren’t random, they’re never without motive. And you can see why our first thought would be here, with you.”

He breaks then, looking away for a moment as the tears well and he blinks them back. Well. No time like the present. Alice puts on a big yawn, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m very sorry. It’s been an exhausting day, as I’m sure it has been for you.” John watches her with watery eyes. He speaks gently, tells her he understands. “How about a coffee?” He asks for tea. It’s the perfect chance to step out.

Alice strides back over to the desk where Teller, Hargreeves and Parker have ringed around Alice’s computer, watching the video footage straight from the interview room. “He killed her.” Alice gestures at the screen. “Peter, am I wrong?”

Peter Parker, perennially single and married to his work all at once, nods. The words are given into his cup of coffee, but she hears them all the same. “You’re not wrong.”

“He didn’t yawn.” Peter is rolling his eyes, and Hargreeves is watching her like she’s mad. “Yawning is contagious.” Teller yawns, because she’s nothing if not suggestible. Hargreeves is looking a little green around the gills, but he works up the nerve to speak up. Ma’am, that research has been debunked- Alice waves the sentence away, though she does appreciate the puppy being brave enough to speak up.

“It’s not about empathy or the brain or anything like that. He’s working so hard to put on that grieving husband facade that he didn’t have time to realize he should have reacted. By the time he did. It was too late. He’s our killer.”

Teller is pleased, but Alice can see the ultimatum coming. We have nothing. Timeline alone is enough to get this laughed out. I need proof. Solid proof. All we have right now is - “Absence.” It smacks her right in the bloody face. “The absence of proof. The door screams crime of passion, but everything else is meticulous. Why stay at the scene if he could have alibi’ed himself at the shops and been done with all of this?”

Little Hargreeves, already worth his weight in silver, if not gold, lifts his hand like this is primary school. Peter laughs so hard he inhales coffee and has to turn away to cough. “I spoke to the neighbors. They said that Zoe has been having a gentleman caller. That Luther hasn’t been home in months. Found the bloke’s name, it’s Mark North. He was at work the entire time, airtight alibi. But he says the only person who didn’t know the separation was final was John.”

That was it, then. Alice can feel her heart racing. “That’s what it is. He’s a narcissist. Acting on compulsion. Everything we found out, it’s because he wanted us to find it. He wanted us to know that his wife was being unfaithful. He wants to punish her, that’s why he took the ring. He wants the media to crow that the loving husband did no wrong, that it’s the wife who went astray and paid for it.” The next words out of Teller’s mouth are the ones Alice doesn’t want to hear.

Find me the ring, then. Or we have to cut him loose.

Tea, first. Alice makes them both a cup, and just like John Luther, she cuts the bullshit when she walks back into the room, sliding him over a cup. Asks if he’s comfortable. The mask is firmly back in place now, the exhausted, grieving husband who tells her that it’s fine, really.

“Sometimes.” Alice was hitting the ground running, now. No room left in her brain for Henry Madsen or her empty flat. Just the chase. “We like to make one of the legs shorter than the other, you know. It keeps the suspect off balance. It makes it so that they can never get comfortable.” It’s only because she’s watching near his elbow that Alice sees the nearly imperceptible bunch of muscle at his hip. Testing out the chair.

“We also use the right police officers for the job. Take me, for instance.” Alice gestures to herself, and takes a sip of her tea. She’ll blame that wave of warmth on weak, too hot tea and not on the feel of those eyes moving over her. “I’ll be sent in to deal with men who are narcissists. Men who are women beaters, who are rapists. Who think they’re better than a woman. It makes them angry, to have to deal with someone they see as beneath them.”

There isn’t so much as a flicker of anger across John Luther’s expressive face. But there is something there, tucked into the corners of his eyes. Curiosity.

“Have you ever heard of Occam’s razor?” John nods, watching her when she stands from her seat and paces over to lean against the wall, hands tucked behind her. It keeps them from fluttering. John rumbles back the definition. But he’s waiting for something. “The only person known to have been at the house was you, John.”

John scoffs a little at her. “Absence of evidence doesn’t necessarily mean evidence of absence.” He’s got Alice’s attention now. And it seems to be mutual. Luther leans forward, tapping his temple. “I see what you’re doing there. A leap.” Alice answers without thinking. A hop, really. “But you’re wrong. Was my marriage strained? Yes. Was my wife sleeping around? Yes. Did I kill her? No.”

John’s entire affect has changed now. No hint of tears at the eyes, no downturned mouth. He’s watching Alice like she’s the only thing in the world and it’s making her feel a little dizzy as she asks can you prove that? John laughs. He actually laughs. It’s faint and over in an instant, but it’s a laugh. “Can’t prove a negative, that means the burden of proof is on you, DCI Morgan. If you think I did this, then you need to demonstrate how and when.”

They were so deeply beyond is he the killer that Alice has circled back around to how can I prove that he’s the killer? No doubt in her mind. “But I won’t be able to do that, now will I?” The audio on the camera, even the recorder won’t have picked it up. But Alice hears that you can try as if it were whispered against her ear. She has goosebumps. “Because you, John, you don’t interact with the world in the way it assumes you will. It makes you hard to understand. And it’s your absence that’s more telling than your speech.”

“Is that a compliment?” There is something predatory in the way his curls those words over his tongue, eyes like a shark and long, powerful body like a crouched panther. Alice doesn’t know why she says it. But ‘yes’ slips past her lips like a confession. Bloody hell.

John leans back in the chair, a pleased little ‘ah’ slipping past his lips. Just like that, his demeanor has softened. Gone was the hunter. “Are you trying to beguile me?”

They’re sparring now. Alice crosses her legs so that she doesn’t have the urge to bounce her knee. “No, John. I wouldn’t be so foolish.” He was a narcissist. The best thing she could do was play to his ego. (It wasn’t a lie.) “But.” She lifts a careful, manicured finger there. “You can be sure that I will find the proof I need. And you will go down. Criminals are never as clever as they think they are.”

“That must get monotonous, for someone as brilliant as you, Alice.” Her name feels illicit where it sits on the tip of his tongue. Alice closes the folder and gathers it in hands that she keeps still and straight with sheer force of will. Out in the hall, she has to take a deep breath before she can face the peanut gallery again.

Time was up. They couldn’t hold him any longer, and no amount of possible ideas to hold him from Hargreeves (good boy) was enough to stop the inevitable. It didn’t matter that it was obvious, that anyone with eyes could see that Luther was excited by them knowing. (She doesn’t say them, Alice says he’s excited that I know and she ignores the look from Peter it gets her.) Teller gives the call to cut him loose. Peter, protective in his own silly way, offers to be the one to let him know. Alice wonders if her cheeks are as pink as they feel.

On his way out, John Luther, used book salesman and murderer, stops by Alice’s desk. “I did enjoy our little chat. You’re very interesting.” He pats the edge of her folder and walks away. Alice has never wanted to break a chair over someone’s back so fiercely in all her life.

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

Her apartment is chilly and uninviting, even with a light left on in every room, an old habit left over from her time in University that she’s never been able to shake. Alice kicks off her ridiculous heels and her overcoat, and pads to the kitchen on bare feet. The curry in the styrofoam box in her refrigerator still smells passable.

She eats it right there in the kitchen, because her table is overflowing with cold case files and the kind of photographs that would put anyone off of their dinner. Alice’s mind wanders while she eats, replaying the crime scene over in her mind’s eye with startling clarity. There was something she was missing. Something that wasn’t right.

Stomach full but no more satisfied, Alice sits on the side of the tub and draws herself a bath. While it’s running, she cleans the lipstick away, spending a moment staring at the red smear on the cloth wipe.

Once the tub is full and dusted with soft smelling bubbles, Alice strips down, leaving her work clothes in a heap outside of the bathroom door, like maybe she can hide from all of it if she just shuts the door behind her.

The water is deliciously hot, and it eases the ache building in her arches from wearing those heels for the rest of the afternoon. Alice pins her hair up off of her nape with a pen balanced on the notepad she kept next to the sink, and slips down into the water, her eyes falling closed.

It’s been a long time since Alice made an attempt at a life. Bertrand had been wonderful in his own way, full of fire and intellect. But the challenge of arguments lost their luster when they always came back to the same thing. Her job. You spend more time with the dead than you do with me, Alice. By the time he moved out, she was more angry than hurt.

Without any direct input from her mind, her thoughts trail back to the morning. To John Luther, cut from marble even in the paltry paper suit that sat too short on his forearms and his calves, because of his size. With his bright, clever eyes and his lovely, long fingered hands…

It’s only because she hasn’t been on a date in a few years. That’s why her fingers trace down the inside of her thigh, with the thought of John’s careful mask slipping away dancing behind her closed eyelids.

She thinks of what it would be like to put herself across his lap. In this ridiculous fantasy, she’s wearing a skirt. They’re never practical for work, but there’s nothing practical about fingering yourself while thinking about a murderer.

In her fantasy, he’s in trousers she can work the zipper down. And he’s running his big palms up from her knee to her hip, her skin lit up like streelights following the dusk beneath his touch. His eyes never leave hers, clever and sure of what he’s doing to her.

In her fantasy, he catches a finger at the hip of her knickers and pulls, the flimsy fabric rending like wet paper beneath the strength of his hands. Alice moans, both in the place in her mind and the place in her tub.

In her fantasy, John balls up the fabric and shoves it into his pocket. A trophy to keep. A reminder of what he was doing.

In her bathroom, Alice sits bolt upright in her bath, hands catching on the sides and sending water sloshing onto the floor with loud slaps.

“The ring!”

#ch: alice #polyfacetious #polyfacetious | luther #v: dci morgan #boy did this ever get away from me #my brain is tired now #queued

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a-strange-inkling · 5 years ago

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SASUSAKU MONTH DAY 2: Patterns

Rated T (for suggestive content and language)

Summary: Only in another life would Sakura ever hate Sasuke, and even then it’s debatable. Though in a different sky, the stars always follow the same pattern (RTN AU, First Chapter of Story that I’ve been working on)

Annoying

"You aren't mad at me, are you Sakura?"

Ah. There they were.

Uchiha Sasuke's infamous Puppy-Dog Eyes.

Haruno Sakura held back a sneer as she turned her attention back to the romance novel she was currently indulging, not in the mood for any of her overly hormonal team mate's antics. The sweet, childlike innocence in those round, onyx orbs of his was as sincere as a tray of fucking cheese. Sasuke knew better than anyone that she was mad at him.

She was always mad at him.

"Sa-ku-ra..." he cooed, trying again for her attention, speaking her name at a low and chilling octave, knowing she hated when he did that.

The Fourth Hokage's daughter only snorted at the sound of her name rolling seductively off his lips, before pivoting her entire body away from him, crossing her legs with a steely grace.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, unable to repress the smirk that had been playing at the corner of his mouth. "Well, I must have really hit close to the mark this time, you're even pulling out your age-old Ice Queen persona."

Sakura simply glared at the written text in front of her, refusing to get in yet another spat with the arrogant boy. However, the young Uchiha had not quite given up yet, he knew one particular trick that would get to the cold young woman.

"You know, no one has mastered the silent treatment quite like you, Sakura-chan."

"Don't call me that." Sakura hissed quickly, shooting him one of her nastiest looks. She never let him call her that.

Sasuke's smirk deepened. "Seems there is still some room for improvement though."

"Look, there is a pair of breasts right over there, Sasuke!" she exclaimed with feigned excitement, pointing to a fairly pretty brunette who was making her way down the street. "Why don't you go bother them for a while?"

Sasuke eyed the passing young woman thoughtfully, mildly interested, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the spunky rosette. "Shouldn't do that, you might get jealous, then you'd be even madder at me."

Sakura stood then, abruptly, closing her book with a resounding snap, as she put distance between herself and the young Uchiha.

"Come on, Sakura!" he called after her, growing annoyed as the kunochi went to find another place to wait for the rest of their squad. She was secretly pleased that his voice had an agitated edge to it instead of the usual carefree ring that usually resounded from his mouth. "Are you going to be like this the whole mission?"

Silently, with her unparalleled grace, the kunochi leapt up several branches of a nearby oaktree, before settling back down with her book. It was all of nine seconds before Sasuke was perched behind her, peering over her shoulder.

"...how's your latest 'Kiss Handsome Boy' book?" he asked coyly.

"The hero is not handsome, he's deformed," Sakura replied with a roll of her eyes. "What's compelling about him is how deeply he loves and how loyal he is... Something you wouldn't know anything about."

"Deformed as in one side of his otherwise attractive face," Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Oh, is there a scar over one of his eyes? Or is he missing a limb?"

Sakura looked skyward in agitation.

"Heh." Sasuke smirked. "He's just missing a limb isn't he?"

"Would you just leave me alone, please?" Sakura asked him with a sigh, shifting down the branch.

"Oh, come on, aren't you going to tell me more about your hero?" the Uchiha asked smugly. "I bet he's all brooding and tortured with a tragic past, and I'm sure only you can save him."

Sakura growled in agitation before closing the book once more and placing it in her back pouch before turning her jade orbs on the Uchiha playboy.

"Okay, Sasuke, you win," she said, crossing her arms. "You have my attention, now what the hell do you want?"

"Hey," Sasuke put his hands up in surrender. "I'm just trying to find out why you're mad at me, Sakura-chan, it's not good for a team to go on a mission with unresolved issues."

"I'm not mad at you, Sasuke." she said evenly. "I just genuinely can't stand you."

"Aw." Sasuke chided, swinging his legs over the branch to let them swing. "We both know that's not true, we used to be friends once, you even used to call me Sasuke-kun, remember?"

"I was just a stupid kid back then," she replied. "Now, would you leave me alone, it's bad enough I have to spend a whole week with you."

The infamous playboy placed a hand over his heart. "Ah, you wound me, Sakura-chan... Don't you care at all about the importance of teamwork?"

"Oh, are you going to lecture me about teamwork?" she asked him. "You, the one who abandoned the team to flirt with that busty nimrod last time?"

"You're so high and mighty, you know that?" He scoffed. "Sorry that I like to enjoy myself once in a while and talk to people, unlike Menma who can barely form coherent words around women, and you, because you're too busy trying to keep up you're frigid bitch facade."

"Wow, Sasuke." Sakura gave him a mocking grin. "And you wonder why I don't like you."

"That's your problem, you don't like anyone," Sasuke explained matter-o-factly. "That's why you're so lonely all the time."

She felt her breathing hitch and her whole body stiffen at the word.

What did he just say?

Lonely...

"How would you know?" she asked lowly. "You don't know a damn thing about being alone."

"Sakura..." he began, realizing he had gone a little overboard. She was just so harsh sometimes, he couldn't help it. "I didn't mean it like that, I just..."

"You're so damn annoying! Acting like you actually know me!" she exclaimed, so angry she didn't know what to do with herself. "Why don't you just keep your mouth shut about things you don't understand!?" She stood up and leapt down from the tree, unwilling to wait around with him a moment more.

Luckily, Menma appeared, walking up the cobbled path, giving her a shy smile. "M-morning, Sakura-chan."

"Hello, Menma." she replied with a sigh of relief. "It's so good to see you."

"It really is," Sasuke replied, jumping down from his perch. "I'll have a witness in case Sakura-chan tries to do me in."

Menma sighed to himself. It seemed this would be another mission of tension between his two teammates. "Hey, Sasuke... M-my mom made cookies for the journey if you guys want some," he told them, holding out a brown paper bag where his mother had drawn a lopsided smiley face. It was an immature tactic to make peace, but it was effective more times than not.

"Ah!" Sasuke exclaimed, helping himself. "Let me at 'em! Kushina-san's cookies are always the best!"

"Sakura-chan?" Menma encouraged her to take one, trying not to blush.

"No thanks, Menma." Sakura replied, putting up a hand. "I'm on a cleanse, but they smell delicious."

"A cleanse?" Menma asked.

"Probably for the best." Sasuke nodded. "They’re too sweet to share with someone so bitter. Not to mention you've been growing a little thicker around the middle."

Menma cringed in fear. Did Sasuke just call her fat? Did he dare? So much for his peace cookies. Maybe he should try dumplings next time.

A sort of dark shadow fell over Sakura's eyes as she shot a deadly glare up at her raven-haired teammate.

Sasuke smirked in response. "Sorry, koishii, that doesn't work on me."

Sakura had a talent for scaring off her many admirers with that dark look alone, however, that frightening attitude of hers had an opposite effect on Sasuke.

He wasn't afraid, only amused.

"Heh," she replied, startling him a bit and switching gears as an easy smile spread across her face, mirroring his own. That may not work on him, but she knew something that would. "On second thought, I would love a cookie."

She strode past him then, with a little extra swing of her hips, purposefully knocking her shoulder with his own as she did so, and took a large round cookie from the offered bag."Thanks, Menma-kun, you're so sweet!"

Surprising both her male teammates, the kunoichi leaned up and brushed her lips against Menma's cheek as a token of her appreciation, making the blonde turn seven different shades of red and Sasuke's smirk diminish a little.

"Da...uh... N-no problem, Sakura-chan." the poor boy stuttered, his hands clenching around the cookie bag, lost somewhere between pure joy and mortification. His mom was right. Sweets were the way to a girl's heart!

Sakura turned and smirked triumphantly at Sasuke, glad to see his own had melted into a displeased frown, as she took a slow enticing bite of the cookie. "Mmm... you're right, Sasuke, these really are the best."

"Hn." he hummed. "Careful you don't choke, Sakura."

"Good morning, students!" Kakashi greeted, interrupting the spat.

"Ah, right on time as always, Sensei." Sasuke waved before shoving his hands in his pockets. "Where are we off to today?"

...

"Tell me."

"No, go away."

"C'mon, just tell me what's bothering you."

"No! Stop that! Get the hell away from me!"

"Sakuraaaaa."

"Sasuke."

"Look, I'll stop bugging you for the rest of the journey if you just tell me."

"No!"

"Please, Sakura," Kakashi begged from where he was leading the three teenagers. "For all our sakes, take him up on that offer."

Menma nodded in agreement. It was hard to focus on reading the map with those two bickering behind him.

"I'm not giving in to his whining." the rosette replied angrily. "...I'm going on ahead to scout."

With that, she leapt away into the trees and disappeared from sight. Sasuke moved to jump after her.

"Sasuke, give her some space," Kakashi commanded.

"Heh, she's not getting away that easily." was the ninja's careless and insubordinate reply.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Sasuke knew Sakura. He had known her his whole life and she really wasn't the icy, badass bitch she made herself out to be. She had been putting up with his normal bullshit for years with the usual scoff or roll of the eyes, whatever he had done most recently must have really upset her.

And, truth be told, he wasn't all too happy with her either.

"I can't really be sorry for something if I didn't even know what I did, you know?" he told her once he caught up with the angry kunoichi. "Come on, I genuinely want to know what's wrong."

"You, genuine?" she scoffed.

"Okay, I don't deserve that," he told her. "We're not thirteen anymore, your lousy attitude is not going to send me into the corner feeling bad about what I did. I'm human, I make mistakes. Not all of us can be perfect like you..."

"You see, that's exactly what gets on my nerves." she turned on him then, her finger pointed right into his face. "You think everything is about you."

"Well, isn't this about me?" he asked. "Isn't that why you haven't spoken to me for days, this morning, and that stunt with Menma you did to try and get me jealous."

"Ha! Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, you were." he laughed. "Unfortunately, I'm not the jealous type like you."

That earned him a glare. "Whatever makes you feel better, Sasuke."

"Look," he sighed. "Is this really going to be the whole mission? Can we just..."

"Ino is not one of those girls!" she exclaimed.

"What?" Sasuke asked, dumbfounded.

"Ino," she remarked. "You know, my best friend? She's not like those girls you hang out with, the ones who enjoy flirting with you as much as you enjoy flirting with them. She's shy, even more so than Menma, anytime a guy gives her any attention she takes it to heart. She took you flirting with her seriously."

"Who are we even talking about?" he asked, confused.

"INO!" Sakura exclaimed. "She's been in every class with both of us since the Academy. Blonde haired, blue-green eyes, wears five layers of clothing."

"Ohhhhh." Sasuke realized. "The stuttering girl... she's your friend still, huh?"

"Kami." Sakura hissed, turning and jumping to another branch.

"Look, Sakura, wait," Sasuke called after her. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean anything by it, it was Shikamaru's idea, it was all just a joke."

"Just a joke?" Sakura asked him. "Hurting a girl's feelings and making her feel foolish for believing you were actually genuine is not a joke... do you know how hard it was for me to tell her what you're really like, that you didn't actually like her, you were just messing with her?"

"Look, it was stupid," he sighed, jumping and landing beside her once more. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, you tell her that next time you see her," she quipped. "Maybe she'll forgive you."

"Fine, mama bear, I will." he sighed, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "As usual, you're blowing this way out of proportion."

She shoved his hand away and crossed her arms. "I told you what was bothering me, wasn't that the deal? Now stop bugging me for the rest of the trip."

With that she jumped away again, not slowing down, leaving Sasuke to stare after her.

Kami, that girl. She drove him absolutely crazy.

...

They set up camp and Team 7 had fallen into a not so easy silence. Sasuke had been true to his word and let Sakura alone, but the tension from before was still sizzling in the air as they went about their tasks. It was all standard teenage shit for Kakashi, but Menma was always uncomfortable with any sort of discourse, especially between his only two friends, and found himself actually missing their bickering. This competitive silence was somehow worse.

Once they all settled around the fire, Menma had calculated that no one had spoken for an hour and twenty-three minutes. While he was a quiet fellow, himself, this was just ridiculous. He turned to Kakashi with a pleading look.

Do something, Sensei!

But the silver-haired jonin was looking over their map, planning for the next morning, quite content with the silence, no matter how awkward it was. Menma turned to his right to see Sakura at the farthest end of the fire, her nose in her book, legs crossed and body pivoted away from them all. To his left sat Sasuke, sharpening his kunai, a full pout on his face as he watched Sakura's back. Menma had never seen him so grumpy. Though bothering Sakura was his lifeblood, being cut off for even an hour seemed to have negative effects.

Menma, knowing it was up to him to break the ice, squeezed his cookie bag in dread. He hated bringing attention to himself, but if it was for the good of his team, he would do it. He glanced around before choosing the member of his squad he currently liked best to try to engage with. While it was a wide known fact that Sasuke was his best friend, Sakura-chan was very pretty.

Plus she had kissed him that morning, he still felt it burning beneath his skin.

"How is your book, Sakura-chan?" he chirped, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. The sound of his soft, raspy voice was like a piano crashing from the sky on top of them all. He felt Sasuke's glare burning a hole in the back of his head and realized that he may have betrayed a rule of comradery between them that he had been unaware of. Apparently, if the Uchiha wasn't talking to Sakura, he wasn't allowed to talk to her either.

Forgive me, brother!

Sakura lowered her book and gave him a rare sweet smile over her shoulder. "It's a work of genius." she sighed dreamily. "The hero just proposed to his dying lover."

"Oh, that's um... nice," Menma replied, though he wasn't sure if it was. He wasn't one for reading, and certainly couldn't manage a thick romance novel without dying from secondhand embarrassment, but Sakura never went on a mission without one. It was the funny riddle of her being for her teacher and teammates, that someone as cold and crass as the village Ice Queen read sappy paperbacks.

Sasuke scoffed from behind, but Menma didn't even dare to face him. "There's one more cookie, if you want it, Sakura-chan." he offered, holding out the crumpled bag once more. If he was going to have to speak, he might as well try and get another kiss for his efforts. Sakura beamed and not only accepted his offer, but set aside her book before rising and coming to sit beside him. "Thanks, Menma." she beamed, making him turn a full shade of scarlet. "You are so thoughtful."

That set the Uchiha off, he tossed his kunai aside and rose to his full height. "Why does she get the last cookie?"

"I-I uh..."

"You don't have to explain yourself to him, Menma." Sakura told him firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder, making his soul leave his body a little. "Despite what he thinks, he's not the boss of you."

"Oh, wow," Sasuke started to laugh, thoroughly pissed off now, but refusing to acknowledge her before she acknowledged him. "Real nice, Uzumaki, leaving me high and dry for a pretty face."

"Sorry..." the blond began, feeling awful.

"Don't apologize to him!" Sakura exclaimed. “Like he’s one to talk.”

“Look, here’s a little free advice, Menma.” Sasuke went on regardless. “Cute as she is, she’s just going to chew you up and spit you out, there are a lot of way nicer girls around.”

Menma felt Sakura’s hand squeeze his shoulder unintentionally and knew that comment had more than stung the kunoichi. He felt something foreign in his chest flare up all of sudden.

“Sakura-chan is nice!” he told him, taking a tone with his friend he never had before. “She’s always nice to me!”

“Only cause it serves a purpose.” Sasuke rolled his eyes, unsure how the kid could be so clueless.

“Kami, you really are the most arrogant, hypocritical, egotistical, delusional fuck boy to ever grace the planet!” Sakura all but screamed at such an accusation. It was all she could do to not send a fist into his nose.

“Ah, there she is!” Sasuke grinned triumphantly.

Kakashi sighed, looking toward the heavens. It had been such a glorious hour and a half. Perhaps he had summoned some sort of karma for foolishly hoping to finish his work before they both started back up again.

“You’re such a horrid friend to him, do you know that?” she stood up and strode right up to the boy that loomed over her about a good seven inches. “You’re always telling him what to do and making him feel like he’s second best to you.”

“Yeah, well it’s better than you not even letting him speak up for himself.” he pointed out. “Stop trying to be everyone’s mother.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Look, if you’re so concerned about Menma and his feelings, then why don’t stop using him as fuel to get to me?”

“Oh, get over yourself, Sasuke!”

“That’s enough!” Kakashi intervened. He considered himself an even-tempered man, but he could only take so much of the ongoing saga of Sasuke and Sakura. Honestly, he’d come to wish they’d get it over with and just fuck or do each other in. The older they got the more their bickering and sexual tension was getting out of hand. “Both of you, go blow off some steam, Sakura go North, Sasuke go South, I don’t want to see either of you back here until you can both be amiable comrades to one another and stop pulling Menma into the middle of your immature spats.”

“But, Sensei…”

“Now, Sakura!” He commanded, pointing his finger, making her huff as she grabbed her bag and leaped off.

“Whatever.” Sasuke shrugged, turning and taking her leave as well, leaving the silver hair ninja with his remaining student. He ruffled his blond hair tiredly. “What are we going to do with them, huh, Menma?”

“Don’t know, Sensei.” he shrugged. “They really hate each other, don’t they?”

Kakashi’s mouth formed a line. “If only it were that simple.”

…

Sakura knew it was stupid to think that Sasuke would, for once, listen to Kakashi and actually put some distance between them, but she would have liked at least a second to herself.

“You’re really something else, you know that?” he asked coming up behind her.

“Didn’t you hear Sensei? You’re supposed to go South.” she shot back heatedly, storming off faster, knowing it was pointless. If there was one thing she’d admit that Sasuke had on her it was speed. He was soon walking alongside her.

“Who cares what he says?” he huffed. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Yeah, well I’m done with you.” she retorted.

“No, you don’t get to call me out on leading your friend on, when you’re doing the same thing to Menma, and then call me a hypocrite,” he told her. “That’s not how it works.”

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “I’m not leading him on.”

His face went deadpan at that, before taking on a persona that she assumed was herself.

“Oh, Menma-kun, I’d love a cookie!” he gushed as high as his deep voice would let him go. “You’re so sweet! You’re so thoughtful! I’m not just using you to get under Sasuke’s skin at all!”

She turned and kept walking at that, enraged that he would make such an accusation, and even more so because he was not completely wrong either.

“Ever thought about how that will make Menma feel?” he asked. “You know how he feels about you.”

“What are you talking about?” she stopped and turned around.

“He’s in love with you!” Sasuke exclaimed as if she were an idiot.

Sakura felt something snap like a twig somewhere inside her. “No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is.” Sasuke nodded reassuringly.

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes he is!” he nearly yelled in exasperation “Most men are! Have you seen yourself?”

“...Kami” she whispered slowly, wishing the earth would just swallow her up right then and there. She hadn’t realized that Menma had a crush on her, let alone loved her. How could someone who spent so much time with her be in love with her? That was insane.

She thought of all the times she had sent him attention just to spur Sasuke and never felt so low. While it was not often and never harmless, it was flirty and could have easily made him feel that she was interested in something more than friendship. She was no better than the Uchiha,

“Yeah, it’s true, so stop playing with his feelings.”

As guilty as she felt, she couldn’t bring herself to admit defeat to him, not three times in one day. She’d make things right with Menma, but Sasuke didn’t have to know that. “Maybe I’m not playing.” she shrugged coyly, turning and continuing on her way.

“...what?” Sasuke muttered in confusion.

“Maybe I’m in love with him too,” she suggested with raised palms. “I mean…”

Sasuke was suddenly in front of her, making her almost walk head first into his broad chest. “You’re not in love with Menma,” he stated as if it were the most basic fact of life, like the rising and the setting of the sun.

“Why not?” she asked with a raised brow, genuinely asking herself as much as she was asking him. Why hadn’t she ever thought of Menma as something more? “He’s handsome, considerate, sensitive and always good to me, why wouldn’t I be in love with him?”

“Because you’re in love with me,” Sasuke told her just as simply. “That’s why.”

She stared up at him, lips parting wordlessly at such a claim. Where there was a snap before now felt like she had been struck by a bolt of lightning. To her surprise, as well as his, she began to laugh. She laughed so hard she bent over, hugging herself around her middle. Sasuke remained stoic, emitting only a small smile when anyone else would have been more than wounded.

“I’m not in love with you, Sasuke.” she told him when she straightened up and caught her breath. Where had the clueless bastard got that idea? He was just watching her with a knowing, adoring look in his eye, his hands tucked snuggly in his pockets. She tilted her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. “I hate you.”

Honestly, what planet had he been living on?

Suddenly he took her face gently into his hands and made her still, all mirth and smugness abandoning her. She stared up at him in shock, eyes wide and sparkling in the darkness as he kept her there, not two inches from his face. Blood rushed to her face so fast that it felt as if she were burning alive from the inside. Why was everything so quiet all of a sudden?

“What was that, Sakura?” he asked with an easy smile, seeing everything he needed to see, rolling her name around the way he knew drove her crazy. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I-I said,” she breathed out shakily, wondering what the hell was wrong with her voice. It sounded so soft and unsure. Like it was someone else’s entirely.

He had caught her off guard with this play. Nothing in her body was working like it was supposed to. Damn it! Why did he have to be so fucking beautiful? And tall? And sexy?

It wasn’t fair.

But, it didn’t prove anything, she assured herself. He was Sasuke. Everyone was attracted to him one way or another. That’s the only effect he had. Attraction wasn’t love. She wasn’t in love with him. In fact, this only made her more angry at him. If she could feel her hands she would have sent a fist straight into his perfect jawline.

She swallowed thickly. “I said, I hate…”

Kami, was he going to kiss her?

She stiffened as she felt his thumb brush along her cheekbones as he loomed over her all the closer, his hot breath spilling over her face.

“What?” he hummed softly. “Go on, say it.”

She stared at his lips, contemplative for a moment of what it would be like to kiss someone, but quickly remembered just who she was dealing with and snapped her gaze back to his dark eyes, so close now she could count his lashes.

“I hate you.” she whispered, her eyes darkening, it was hard to breathe at this angle he held her. But, she did it. She got it out.

She won.

He smiled then, looking so pleased that for a moment she wondered if she had said the wrong thing. The opposite thing.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, hands slipping down to her neck, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, but his lips took an alternate route gently and brushed over the hollow of her cheek, the same place she had bestowed a kiss to Menma for his sweets.

He pulled back and she watched him, flushed and frustrated by his brash action and by the burning in her face centering around the focal point where he had touched her.

“You too, Sakura-chan.” he told her with a wink before turning and going on his way, leaving her alone like she wanted.

#ssmonth2019 #ssm19 #ssmd2 #sasusaku #rtn au #road to ninja au #sasuke and sakura

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portcadorpg · 4 years ago

Photo

Congratulations, Steph! We are delighted to welcome Nathaniel Keaton Delmore to Port Cado. Please complete our after acceptance checklist. We are looking forward to seeing you develop him! Please send in his blog within 48 hours.

Out of Character

Alias: Steph

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Age: WELL over 21 (in the 30s now but we shant speak of it)

Timezone: EST

Anything else? Outside of normal tw content? Just clowns. I will find out 6/4 if I have to be out of town for the federal government for a month. Will keep you posted but I’m being optimistic I’ll be around regardless.

Character

Name: Nathaniel “Nate” Keaton Delmore

Birthdate and Age: June 13 (39)

Preferred Pronouns: he/him

Faceclaim: Chris Evans

Profession: CFO of Delmore Industries, a

Guild/Obsidian Syndicate: STEM Guild

Designation: Dominant

Claim: Unclaimed

Children: None

Neighborhood: Mount Verne

Sexuality: Demisexual / Sapiosexual

I guess simply put, he identifies as “not straight” but doesn’t use the term “queer” and I couldn’t find a term other than “Queer” for someone who isn’t straight and needs to have an emotional connection to an intelligent person to be attracted to them sexually. If you want to use Pansexual then that’s fine too. He's still inclined to lean towards women due to his family's conservative views.

Kinks: d/s, praise, orgasm control/teasing/denial, temperature/sensation play, begging (consensual), Impact/Rough play, marking, thigh riding, cockwaming, unprotected sex (probably more but I’ll have to get a feel for him)

Anti-kinks: Don’t call him Daddy/Baby, urine/blood/scat/vomit play, feet, degradation, age play, most roleplaying, most anal play (probably more but I’ll have to get a feel for him)

Biography:

Nathaniel Keaton Delmore was born into the Delmore empire, a leading chemical company in the United States. Being part of the one-percent had a singular perk: never having to worry about money. Nate learned pretty quickly that that was where its benefits stopped. He was the second of the Delmore children, and his mother never let him forget it. While she had reluctantly taken time off to care for his older sister, Samantha Marion Delmore, they waited until she was eight before they had him and more often than not they left Sammy to take care of him as if he was part living doll and part puppy. The lack of care, attention, and education led to Nate being developmentally delayed in walking because he was either carried or strolled around. It had also resulted in a stammer that was made worse by his parents' frustrations in his inability to articulate words correctly. Though he would overcome those issues with little to no trace in his adult life, the overarching experiences of a neglectful and abusive parentage left him with anxiety and a fragile sense of self.

He learned that if he kept good grades and kept his head down there wasn’t really anything his parents wouldn’t let him try. Anything he showed a natural talent for they supported until he was no longer the best in show, once again treating him more like a pet than a person. Be it piano, singing, basketball, horseback riding, or fencing; Nathaniel found himself having to find his own way. In high school, when his interests turned to debate and forensics teams because of a friend, his parents tried to put their foot down. Despite the lack of a stammer, they told him he’d be no good at it, seeing their quiet son as damaged once more. It was with his uncle’s support that he managed to make excuses and even attend summer camps. Public speaking became a way for him to face his anxiety and, with practice, he became unbelievably good at it.

With no support for college unless he legally agreed to major in microeconomics, Nathaniel finally left home to experience a slice of the real world. MIT was practically an entirely new planet for him and, despite being low key, there was really no surprise that people figured out who he was with the last name of a major American business which several of the top students hoped to one day work for. Just when he thought he was settling into a routine after a few years at MIT with a bartending job (much to his parents’ dismay), a co-captain position on the forensics team, and a close group of friends, he was kidnapped, tortured, and held for ransom by members of the Obsidian League.

After his rescue, Nathaniel would find the hardest part of the ordeal being the realization that no one knew he was missing for weeks. His job thought the rich kid had quit, though he never flaunted his money other than picking up the tabs shitty people cut out on. His friends thought he was sleeping with ‘that one girl’ that kept flirting with him at every party, though he swore there wasn’t anything there- just lending an ear to a heartbroken friend. His professors’ T.A.s were too overwhelmed to note his absences in the large classes. Then the forensics team thought his parents had finally pulled the plug on his participation because he’d divulged that they never really supported it when they didn’t attend any of the big competitions. The only person that ever trusted that Nate was missing against his will was, once again, his uncle and the calls to action were quickly hushed by the family, not wanting any bad press.

Through physical therapy his body healed from the torture, even though the scars remain. Concerned that therapy would look bad for the family they decided to allow him a service dog that was discretely trained and, after a hefty donation to the university and NDA paperwork, Sirius was allowed to follow him into his classes and any place around campus. Trying his best, the rest of his college experience was very much left in recluse. He took to reading and running to clear his head and avoid the reality that upon graduation he would be stepping into the CFO position of Delmore, Inc. Life seemed to be filled with dread outside of the travel the job would entail.

Managing to coerce his parents into agreeing to a masters, he delayed the inevitable a bit longer. Now, a decade later, he has settled into the monotony of corporate life. His secretary regularly schedules all meetings and travel in clusters to allow Nate as much time to himself away from the company as possible. After Sirius passed, he took on a new service dog with the refusal to hide that part of his life any longer. It wasn’t lost on him that Samantha’s pep talk to do so likely stemmed from her own desire to climb Delmore’s corporate ladder, but he couldn’t seem to care and completely anticipated that the company would be passed to her when that time came. The result was the same, his parents used him as the mouthpiece for the company’s charity work. They called the dog Cosimo to keep the ‘beast’ classy; meanwhile, he called him Cosmo because of his affinity for stargazing. They called him a survivor, he held his tongue that they’d treated him just as poorly. Through it all, he remains a dutiful, loyal, reserved; if not a bit more inclined to speak out against injustices than the average person.

#city rp #oc rp #ls rp #accepted

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azucar-morena94 · 7 years ago

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Please, tell your cat I miss her.

This is not a story about animals. Yes this week’s theme was animals, and I used them in the story, but is not about them. This is not a story about a specific person either, or is it…? To be honest, I don’t know anymore. This is just a story about a coward… and because he hurt my ego, I have to write about it, even if I have more important things to write. And even if this is shit, it has helped me heal. So good luck with this one, people. As a feminist, I try not to compare men to animals. In general, society would excuse everything a man does by comparing him to an animal. Boys will be boys or some other stupid bullshit. I try not to call men beasts, because I understand that men are capable of reasoning and they aren’t just mindless monsters with no self control… It might seem like I don’t try hard enough, but believe me I do try, I try so hard not to compare men to animals… Then comes the idiot. You see, he was a nice little thing to play with. He was a nice thing to look at, just like a little fish. A fish that could whisper sweet nothings into my ears, but he kept to himself and he didn’t take much space or bother me at all. He made my ego grow twice its size, a dangerous thing to do, since my ego was already the size of a Hippo. You see, he flew me over the skies… He became a majestic bird. He made me fly alongside him and I saw the world underneath us. It was wonderful. He was wonderful. We were amazing. He made me feel so good. He was like a drug. I couldn’t get enough. The trip was so great and so crazy, that I felt like I was licking a toad. Damn beautiful toad, with his perfect lips and sad looking eyes. I, a feminist, believed he was a prince in disguise. Ironic, I know. And how could I not think he was a prince? I’ve already compared him to a toad, all I had to do was kiss him, lick him, suck him enough to make him change into a prince. And I did just that. I licked. I kissed. I sucked. He changed. Oh he changed. He became a beast. In the middle of the trips he’d turned into a tiger, and he would growled out my name. He was strong, fierce, bad…. and I loved every second of it. And then, just like that, he’d turned into a little kitty. I enjoyed him as a kitty. He was fun when he was my kitty. He’d let me play with his hair, pinch his cheeks, and let him lay his head on my chest. And it happened. He wasn’t my little play thing, he wasn’t my little toy… He became more. He looked like a prince, and acted like a loyal puppy. He was perfect. So so so perfect. If you’d see him on the streets, you’d be scare of him, because my puppy was a big strong scary wolf. Loyal to only me. Or so I thought. My little fish, my birdie, my toad, my tiger, my kitty, my puppy, my wolf… he would leave me and go to someone else. He’d lie to my face. He wasn’t the only shapeshifter I’d spent my days playing with, and he knew it. He also knew he had a special place in my life. As I said, he was wonderful, perfect, so he was my second in command, and all the shapeshifters knew that he was special. But suddenly, without any explanation he stopped coming to me. Stopped taking me out to fly. He stopped taking me on wonderful trips… No matter how much I’d kiss, lick and suck, he would simply stay the same. I try reaching out to him, even though my Blue Whale size ego would get hurt every time I’d reach out first. But I did. And everything would be amazing. And then he’d stop once more. So I stopped reaching out too. Then another change. Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. He came back, he became even more attached to me. And I thought he was my wonderful kitty again, we had fun, more fun than before. He acted like my kitty, but he wasn’t. He’d sneak out on me, and went to the neighbor’s bed. And she would pick him up. She would spent all day with him, and he’d come back late at night. Some nights he just wouldn’t come back at all. You see, all I ever expected from him was honesty. Because he isn’t an animal acting on instinct, and because I deserve honesty. After all, I was and I am honest. If he’d just told me he had someone else, I wouldn’t have mind at all… but he lied to me. And he lied to her. For her he was the only one. She called him lover, I called him pet. She was so in love, after all, she spent all the days he was with me believing he was only hers, and falling deeper in love. And I told him I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t just pretend like he wasn’t hurting her and using me. He looked me with those big sad puppy eyes, and begged me to stay… But I couldn’t. I never thought I would compare myself to a cat. But right now, that’s exactly what I will do. I couldn’t stay with him, because even though I never wanted a serious committed relationship, I love attention. I love to get attention when I ask for it. I want to be number one, but I want my space too. I’m like his own damn cat. Yes, I fell in love with his stupid black cat. She would demand cuddles and kisses from him, and scratch when she didn’t get them. I would laugh it off because I found it adorable. But when you are a grown woman, who is acting just like a spoil cat… is not that adorable. Besides, there is another girl in his life, a girl who didn’t even know of my existence. She’s sweet, and beautiful and wonderful. And she doesn’t deserve what I was doing to her. I didn’t know of her existence, and as soon as I found out I asked him why? But he wasn’t human enough to answer. He stuck his head in the ground like an ostrich… and never talked to me about it. For that, he doesn’t deserve one more paragraph. So this one is for you Rae. Your tail made my heart melt every time, and I’m sure you knew it, because you would move it around like you were stripping and seducing me. Your purrs and your meows made me feel warm inside. You were the only cat to capture my love, and your demanding of love and affection was my favorite thing. Baby, I loved petting you and cuddling you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye, but that’s not my fault. Scratch him for that. And if I ever talk to your daddy again, I’d tell him: “Please, tell your cat I miss her.”

#submit #submission #Ashleen #busco-un-alma #animals

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ohifonlyx33 · 8 years ago

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There’s something I’ve noticed people saying. And heck, I’ve even said it myself. “Fitz loves A.I.D.A. like he loves SImmons. His love is being misdirected” except that’s grossly untrue. I don’t even see any love for A.I.D.A. at all. Possessiveness, protectiveness, even loyalty? Sure those qualities have been taken and twisted into something dark and toxic. But love? No.

I had the misfortune of seeing her speak to him in a few of their scenes. She treats him like her property (ironic), and he snaps at her like a dog on a leash. It seems he doesn’t even trust her to tell him the truth. He pounds his fist and demands she owes him the truth. He just always seems mad. Mad at A.I.D.A. in particular. She screams “I love you!” as a way of controlling him. She plays on his few remaining “loyal puppy” sympathies to make him her vicious attack dog...

Now imagine a Jemma/ A.I.D.A. showdown in front of Fitz.

And no, i’m not talking about a cat fight. I’m talking the power of words.

But think about it.

Jemma is desperate. She learns about “The Other Side” and a has a little information about “Project Looking Glass” She really, really needs Fitz now more than ever. And not just because she loves him. She legit needs him to get out of the Framework.

So she’s methodical in reaching him. She learns the layout, knows when he’ll be alone. And so she claws her way to where she can find him. He’s alarmed, on guard... but there is still something not quite right... he needs to understand this woman.

So she tells him who she is. Jemma Simmons. She knew him in the other world. He’s from the other world too. She begs him to simply listen and decide for himself. So she tries to explain the Framework scientifically because THAT is the universal language they both speak in any universe.

Then A.I.D.A. comes in angry, ready to call in a gun or even just straight up kill Jemma herself. But Fitz yells at her a bit (the way he always does). He tells her he’s not done listening to her... yet. He’s just interested enough--intrigued enough to keep Jemma safe from A.I.D.A. momentarily ...But who knows for how long.

But that jealous hag of a murderbot, A.I.D.A., says something like “Just remember, Leopold. You’re mine! You belong to me! Not her.” or something like that.

And Jemma. Oh, sweet lovely Jemma. Is not so sweet or lovely. “Oh don’t talk to him like that! He doesn’t belong to anyone but himself! And he certainly does not belong to you, who’s taken that away.”

And like that they’re launched into an exchange, but everything A.I.D.A. says is along the lines of “She’s lying, Leopold, don’t listen.” or “You can’t take him from me.” and she’s just generally nasty. And everything Jemma says is about putting Fitz first, giving him freedom, not controlling him.

Then finally A.I.D.A. snaps, “LEOPOLD! END THIS, NOW. PROVE HOW MUCH YOU LOVE ME! KILL THIS IMPOSTER.”

And he looks between the two of them trying to figure out who to believe. And A.I.D.A. is glaring at him, waiting for him to obey, getting mad that he hasn’t yet. “DO IT!”

But then Jemma--she turns to Fitz, brokenness, pain and sorrow evident--and oh, so much tenderness in her eyes. So much love. And Fitz wonders if he’s ever seen anyone look at him that way before. He feels as if he might have, but not in this life. He would remember if he had seen that look in this lifetime.

“You don’t have to prove anything to her. Not to anyone, Fitz! You’re not the one who needs to prove anything here. You can choose for yourself who to believe...”

When A.I.D.A. cries out that Jemma is the lying, manipulative subversive Fitz tells A.I.D.A. to shut up. "No, she has a point. If I kill her it will bloody well be my own idea. All she’s said now is to think for myself. which I will. And I assume you would agree with me. Unless, you doubt my capacity for critical thinking...”

“Of course not, but she’s trying to-”

“I'm well-aware of what she’s trying to do. I’m waiting to see what you’ll do.”

“I’m trying to protect you... By telling you to kill her.” “So, if you think I’m a threat... If this is what you really want, Fitz. Go ahead and do it.” Jemma steps in front of him and he points the gun at her like it’s a reflex. “I don’t know, maybe it would be easier... If I were dead. It’d be like before I was born, isn’t that right? You could just kill me, and end my pain. You’d have no regrets about me in this nightmare world, except for never knowing if I am telling you the truth, perhaps. But by then you wouldn’t want to know the truth anyway... At least that way you could just keep on living this lie that you never asked for, stuck here forever, taking orders from her.”

He lowers the gun and A.I.D.A visibly snarls.

Jemma’s voice shakes and her shoulders heave. But she walks straight up to him and takes his hand pressing the barrel against her chest and holds his hand steady. She looks him straight in his eyes, blinking through her tears. “But I love you too much... And.. I... I don’t know what else I can do to convince you--to show you I love you. So this is the only thing left. Because I’m not leaving here without you, so you might as well kill me. But you had better be sure that it’s what you want. Not what A.I.D.A. is telling you to do.”

“Don’t call me that!”

She ignores A.I.D.A’s rage, and hangs on to Fitz’s hand. She can see him inside now. She can see him believing her so she keeps staring into Fitz’s eyes determined to bring his soul back. He’s with her now, or almost. “That’s her name--the name Radcliffe gave her when he designed her.”

“That’s not my name!”

“She’s just code in here, just like I said. The same as everyone else, FItz. Except you and I--and Daisy and May and Coulson and Mack--we have all got real bodies to go back to. She's only an android in the real world. You helped program her to help people. That’s all my Fitz ever wanted to do. But she seems to have forgotten that.”

“If you won’t kill her, I’ll do it myself!”

A.I.D.A. lunges for the gun, but Fitz trains it on her. She tries to play the victim. Play innocent. She loves him!

Jemma wants to fire back that no she doesn’t. But Fitz says it for her, “I don’t think you even know what love is. You certainly aren’t capable of feeling it. What have you done to me?”

"Fine.” She makes a move.

He shoots her once. Nothing. Twice. He doesn’t even hesitate. The third time she shoots her in the neck and she drops.

He stares at her corpse while Jemma studies him.

“Do you remember me?”

He turns to her. “No, not quite... Maybe... I don’t know. But I think I want to. And I believe you. Which is more than I can say for her.”

It’s enough. She’ll take it.

“We need to get out of here.”

#aos #fitzsimmons #what is this? meta? fic? headcanon? WHO KNOWS?

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