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cobrakaisb · 4 years ago

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tik tok

summary: a collection of the different times that y/n referenced tik toks throughout their friendship with the characters in cobra kai. (i tried to keep this somewhat consistent with the plot of the show)

word count: 1140 words

“you could take her to get tattoos,” hawk suggested, causing you, aisha, and miguel to look at him like he was crazy. “my boy rico hooked me up with this bad boy,” he continued. hawk proceeds to take off his gi and show the three of you his tattoo. “badass,” aisha commented, and you nodded in agreement. “fourteen hours in the chair, totally worth it though,” hawk explains, looking at himself in the mirror. “do your parents know?” miguel asked him and he shook his head no. “they’re gonna know,” you commented. hawk just gave you a questioning look. “they’re gonna know,” you repeated. “how would they know?” he asked. “because it’s a giant fucking hawk tattoo on your back, and i’m gonna tell your mom,” you respond, smiling sweetly at him. “please don’t,” hawk begged, sitting back down to stretch.

“so that’s why i broke up with hawk,” moon finished telling you why she broke up with hawk. “fair enough,” you said, nodding your head slightly. “that’s all you have to say?” moon asked, a hint of anger in her voice. “i’m a little lost but fair enough,” you answered her question by repeating your previous statement. “how are you a little lost? i literally just explained everything to you!” moon shouted. you rolled your eyes. “moon, you broke up with hawk for being a bully, when you used to stand by and let yasmine bully him,” you said gently. moon’s eyes widened at your statement. “besides he just got a tattoo for you. that would be enough to keep me from leaving,” you added as moon laughed at your words.

“hey tory!” you shouted, waving to the blonde girl. “hey y/n what's up?” she asked as you jogged over to her. “who’s daisy?” you asked. tory’s eyebrows furrowed at your words. “daisy? i don’t know a daisy,” she mumbled, confusion plastered all over her face. you frowned at her words. “then who’s this girl that keeps texting me? she said that you hooked up?” you questioned tory. “what? i swear i don’t know a daisy!” tory defended. “you sure?” you asked, raising your eyebrow at her. “yes!” she shouted back. “daisy me rollin!” you replied, walking forward doing a dice roll. tory glared at you, while you just burst into a fit of laughter.

hawk was currently beating up brucks, who had decided to join cobra kai, and make fun of his scar in the process. you were standing next to tory and doug watching the two of them fight. “you can do it! you can do it! you can do it! you can do this! you can do this! you can do this!” you cheered from your spot, looking at hawk. hawk looked over towards you rolling his eyes. “shut the fuck up!” he yelled, punching brucks in the nose. “i’m just encouraging you!” you shouted back, gesturing to the fight. “no!” he replied, continuing to beat the shit out of the boy.

“you fuckers! you fuckers! you motherfuckers! i will rain hellfire upon you!” you shouted, walking towards sam, demetri, hawk, and miguel. the four of them just looked around, not knowing what you were talking about. you punched miguel’s shoulder. “how dare you not call me the second that fight broke out!” you shouted. “y/n-” sam started, but you pointed at hawk. “and you! why wouldn’t you tell me what tory was planning!! especially since you know how badly i’ve been dying to fight those assholes!” you continued. “y/n it’s fine. we took care of them. and you can’t fight them until the all valley next year,” demetri said calmly, walking you towards your first class of the day.

“okay y/n name something that you might like to have two of on your bed,” demetri said, looking at the family feud card. you, demetri, hawk, sam, and miguel were all playing family feud. “karate boys demetri,” you answered confidently, and rather quickly. “what?” sam asked, a confused look on her face. “i mean look at them!” you said, pointing at miguel and hawk who were sitting on the other side of the table. “tell me you wouldn’t want to come home and find the two of them on your bed?” you continued, looking at sam. “no i would,” she whispered and you nodded, mumbling out an “exactly”. “okay well that’s not on the board. that’s also your third strike. miguel,” demetri said, continuing the game.

“hey sam, how old is your dad?” you asked, opening the door to her bedroom, carrying a plate of food. “what?” she asked, appalled. “no, not like that! well it is, it is like that,” you explained. “how old is he?” you asked again. “why do you care?” sam asked. “because i came in the house and he was like ‘you want to eat?’ so i said, ‘eat what?’” you continued. sam scoffed. “first of all put my plate down, and stop hitting on my dad!” she yelled, grabbing the plate from your hands. “ugh fine!” you sighed, closing the door to her room behind you as you entered. “he is really hot though,” you mumbled, quickly dodging the pillow that sam threw at you.

“i would never let a man spit in my mouth,” you said to tory. “i would,” tory answered confidently. you gagged at her words. “i don’t know why y’all keep saying, ‘oh spit in my mouth!’ that’s fucking nasty!” you shouted looking at tory. “alright y/n whatever you say,” tory replied, shrugging her shoulders. “hey guys!” robby greeted, walking up to you and tory. he was wearing a black denim jacket and his hair was looking on point. “hey robby!” tory greeted, but you were too busy standing there, looking at robby, with your mouth agape. “hey tory,” you whispered. “mhm,” she replied. “forget everything that i just said. i would totally let him spit in my mouth,” you whispered back, subtly gesturing to robby.

you and tory pulled up to hawk’s house, and you beep your horn loudly. hawk came out of his house, and you rolled down tory’s window, shouting, “get in loser we’re going shopping!” tory laughed at your words as hawk flipped you off before climbing into the backseat. together the three of you drove to the mall where you were in fact going to do some shopping.

“how is he so fucking hot!!” you scream, recording a video on your snapchat of you at the eagle fang karate dojo. you were holding your phone up, zooming in on bert as he kicked nathaniel, his partner, practicing the new skill you guys were learning. “and respectful!” you continued, when bert helped nathaniel get up from the ground. “you need to stop,” miguel mumbled from beside you. hawk, sam, and demetri all nodded their heads in agreement.

tags: @iwantahockeyhimbo @funprincess101 @the-anxious-youth @rottenstyx

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

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Late Night Talks

Summary: After a long hunt, the reader and Dean grab a late dinner on the road. Dean notices the reader not eating much and calls her out on her recent eating habits when he gets concerned about the road she’s on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, discussion of disordered eating & eating disorders, fluff

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo!

______

“I read this article earlier,” said Dean as he popped a french fry into his mouth. You were about five hours from home, eating a midnight dinner at some tiny little diner on the side of the road after a successful but exhausting ghoul hunt.

“Mhm,” you hummed, picking at a brussel sprout on your plate.

“It was on disordered eating,” he said, picking up a piece of bacon that’d fallen onto his plate and eating it.

“You mean eating disorders,” you said, stabbing into the sprout and eating it before you went back to your dicing up your chicken tenderloin.

“No this was something different. It’s like, how some people shift into having an eating disorder, like pre disorder I guess.”

“So...was there something interesting in this article?” you asked, picking up a piece of chicken and taking a bite.

“Actually yeah,” he said. You chewed and took a few bites before he set the burger down and wiped off his hands. “It was about how there’s dangers involved with disordered eating since it could turn into something all consuming, like a full on eating disorder.”

“Well that sounds kinda obvious,” you said.

“Well it was about how stuff like skipping meals, limiting your calories too much, saying some foods are good and others are bad, that stuff over time can really start to mess with your head and lead to that compulsion of being obsessed with food and weight.”

“Isn’t that just common sense,” you said. He hummed and you ate another piece of chicken before pushing the plate away. “I don’t know about you but I’m full.”

“Yeah, it is common sense,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone, tapping on it for a moment before spinning it around, showing you a number.

“Are you tracking my fucking calories?” you said.

“Oh geez, Y/N. Maybe cause you hit every red flag in that article I read and I got concerned. There’s no humanly possible way you’re full when you’ve eaten a whopping 800 calories today. You’re starving yourself.”

“I’m not hungry today, weirdo,” you said.

“You were slow on that hunt and we both know why. You’ve been doing this for weeks really extremely and honestly, since I’ve met you.”

“I’m on a diet. You know that.”

“You’re on the ‘I’m fucking up my metabolism’ diet. Ah, that one’s a classic,” he said.

“Back off. I am not hungry lately is all.”

“Eat this,” he said, sliding his plate in front of you. He took your plate and started eating, staring at you. “Eat the burger.”

“I said-”

“Take one bite.”

“I’m not hungry,” you growled.

“Then take a bite and spit it out.” You picked up the burger, covered in cheese, bacon, peppers and a sauce that smelled so good. You swallowed and put it down, Dean shaking his head.

“Dean. I’m just not hungry.”

“Why won’t you take a bite?” he asked. You sighed and closed your eyes. “Y/N.”

“Because I’ll want to eat the whole thing and this has to be a thousand calories and I can’t eat that much, Dean. I’m on a diet.”

“Today I’ve seen you have three cups of coffee, a banana, and half of a small piece of chicken and a few brussel sprouts. You need to eat.”

“I need to lose weight.”

“For what?”

“I’m overweight.”

“Because a little stupid calculator online said so? So another stupid little calculator tells you how much food you’re allowed a day? But maybe you’re having a bad day so you tell yourself you don’t deserve to have even all of that already restricted food? So you make it even smaller to the point of, hm, what’s that word, disordered eating?”

You stared down at your lap and heard him get up, sliding into the booth beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you looked out the window.

“I do need to lose weight Dean. It’s true. I’m not supposed to be this big.”

“What are you supposed to be then?”

“Like that waitress. She’s small and thin. She’s healthy.”

“I see,” he said. She was working behind the counter, no one else in the place aside from a man at the other end and the cook. “Excuse me miss?”

She popped her head up and walked over with a tired smile.

“Can we get another bacon cheeseburger? And a big bowl of that ice cream sundae?” he asked.

“You got it,” she said, writing it down.

“One more thing,” said Dean. “Do you like the way you look?”

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Dean, shut up,” you said. “Please ignore him.”

“I mean, are you happy with your body? Do you eat whatever you want, wear whatever you want, never worry a second about what goes in it or how it looks? You’re a beautiful woman but what do you actually think of yourself?”

She was quiet for a few moments before she noticed the swapped plates in front of you.

“You know when you first asked that, I thought, you were being creepy. I get creepy guys in here a lot late at night. The cook is a big guy but it happens. I know I’m small. I wish I was stronger. I wish I looked like she does. I’m something that looks like they’d snap in the wind. She’s strong and has an ass and curves. She’s not a rectangle with no curves or chest. She doesn’t look like a guy. I wish I wasn’t so delicate but I don’t think I can change that much.”

“Probably not so much,” said Dean. “But I hear weight training is good for muscle building. Creeps are always creeps but might help to be able to deck ‘em.”

“Yeah. I’ll go put that order in for you guys,” she said with a smile. Dean turned his head back to you after she went through the double doors.

“Funny. You want her body. She wants yours,” he said.

“She doesn’t know I’m overweight.”

“She doesn’t know how damn strong you are. Her body? She was right. She is delicate and it’d be a safe idea for her to put on some muscle given her job. You though? You I’ll worry to death over no matter what. But you’re missing the most glaring thing of all.”

“What?”

“You just said she doesn’t know you’re overweight. She doesn’t know how much you weigh. If she doesn’t know how does anyone know? Why does a number on a scale matter? Health does, don’t get me wrong, but care more about what your body can do than what size pants you fit in. It’s all bullshit anyways. You can be a small one place or a triple XL somewhere else. You can have a normal chest but be told it’s too big or too small by a different brand. I just don’t want to see you going down a path towards something worse where you’re hurting yourself.”

“I’d never hurt myself, Dean.”

“If your body is hungry and you don’t feed it, you’re hurting it. I’m talking about you’re cold, you’re starving, you have no energy, you feel like crap. But you won’t eat, not until it gets a little worse because you think you can take it because you’ve taken it before. That’s hurting yourself and you hurt yourself a lot sweetheart.”

You looked down and swallowed, taking a deep breath.

“I’m really cold right now,” you said quietly. “I’m tired of always being so fucking cold.”

“Eat,” he said, tugging his plate closer to you. “I’ll order you some soup too. That’ll warm you up.”

He took off his jacket and wrapped it over your shoulders. He kissed your cheek and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’ve been like this for years, Dean. I don’t know how people eat normally anymore.”

“I know. You probably fucked up your metabolism but we can unfuck it up too. You can be healthy but this, this isn’t healthy. I’ll do it with you but you gotta promise me you won’t starve yourself anymore.”

“I’ll try,” you said.

“I’ll take trying to start with,” he said. “I’m gonna order that soup. Eat up for me sweetheart. You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

One Month Later

“Y/N!” shouted Dean from the kitchen as you walked past. “You eat lunch yet?”

“No,” you said.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little. I was waiting for you to get done with Baby,” you said.

“What’d you eat so far?” he asked.

“I had a cup of coffee and a protein bar and for lunch I’m having one of those greek wraps I like,” you said. “Satisfied?”

“I’d prefer if you had two wraps or a wrap and snack with it,” he said. You grumbled and he sighed. “Y/N. You said I could take the lead on this.”

“I’m gaining weight,” you said.

“Yeah cause you aren’t eating what a toddler does in a day anymore which is perfectly healthy for a grown woman. I know it’s only been a month but you have so much more energy, you sleep better, you have less nightmares. Your skin looks amazing. So gain a few pounds, gain more than a few, let’s fix your metabolism and then we’ll start working out a little and we’re not gonna give a fuck how much we weigh at all and we’re gonna be the hottest fucking couple in this neighborhood I swear.”

“I like not feeling cold anymore,” you said with a small smile, Dean walking over and rubbing your arms. “It’s just...hard sometimes to not...wait to eat until your stomach hurts from no food. I’m figuring out what being hungry is again.”

“It’s gonna take some time but your body will learn again. We just gotta be extra nice to it right now while it recovers,” he said. “And then we’ll always be nice to it, right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I promise.”

“So, one wrap or two?” he asked, opening the fridge.

“One. I’ll save the other for tomorrow. But maybe I’ll have some pita chips and hummus with it?” you asked.

“That sounds yummy,” he said. “I think I’ll have that myself.”

“You don’t have to eat my diet Dean,” you said.

“I could do with being nicer to my own body myself,” he said. “After lunch do you want to go for a walk? I have a sneaking suspicion the couple three blocks over are a pair of vamps.”

“That’s the guy with the skin condition, babe,” you said.

“Are you sure cause he got like a weird rash that one time.”

“It’s a condition,” you said with a smile. “But I would love to go for a walk with you while the day is still nice.”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart,” he said, starting to take food out of the fridge. You walked over and gave him a hug from behind.

“Thanks for saying something. Even if I tried pretending I was fine.”

“You’d do the same for me,” he said. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get some grub. I’m starving.”

________

#tell me a story bingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #dean x

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moonyswriting · 4 years ago

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Monopoly

Big thank you to @ttylfedora for helping me with this and just writing one of the paragraphs :)

Charcters are by @lumosinlove with minor changes

Requested by an anon on my main blog, i know it took me over a month. But today is the perfect day to post this.

HAPPY TRANS DAY OF VISIBILITY! 💕🥳

TW: coming out

They heard a knock and Finn got up from their couch, reluctantly removing himself from his lovers’ embrace to open the door. That only got Logan told hold Leo tighter, wrapping his legs around the taller person’s body, pulling them down so they were pressed together as close as possible.

“Regulus. Hey, man, how’s it going?”, they heard Finn’s voice from the door.

“Good, good. You?”

Finn and him held up easy conversation on their way back to the living room. “Reg!”,when Leo spotted their friend, they couldn’t help the blush that spread onto their cheeks. Yes, of course, he knew about the Cubs’ relationship and had seen them cuddling more often than not, but Leo still felt like it was an intimate moment. It was obvious that Leo tried to move out of Logan’s hug, to sit up on the couch and greet Regulus properly. Their smaller boyfriend had something else in mind. The blond was now sitting upright on the couch with a human koala pressed into their side. Leo didn’t complain.

“Nice flag you got there.”, Regulus noted as a grin split his face, looking from the trans flag the cubs hung up today to his friend, who had a similar expression on their face.

Leo looked up at him and answered smugly, “Thanks. I know.” They still couldn’t believe Logan and Finn had just accepted them so quickly. It was surreal really, thinking about how much time Leo had debated about what to do if they didn’t. But they had. They did. They hugged Logan tighter and looked up at Finn, who practically threw himself on the couch and onto his lovers in the process.

After leaving them to a moment of affection – because he knows they would want that – Regulus cleared his throat. “Leo. We have to go. The reservations are made. We can’t be late.”

It was something Leo had noticed. Reg got extremely anxious at the thought of being late. They didn’t know if it had something to do with his and Sirius strict parents, but he really didn’t need to know. Since they didn’t want their friend to get uncomfortable, the blond tried to get up again, with minimal success.

“Guys, you have to let me go.”, Leo whined, “It’s only for one night. I’ll be back tomorrow.” They turned to Logan, who had a pout on his face, clearly not happy thinking about Leo having a sleepover at Sirius’ and Remus’ place.

“But I need you to cuddle me.”, he whined holding his partner tighter.

“Logan,” Leo wiggled around in their boyfriends embrace to be able to look Logan in the eyes, “You have Finn for tonight and I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” They leaned in closer and added in a quiet voice, “I’ll cuddle with you the whole day. I promise.”

Logan seemed to be debating their offer, only to squeeze their body one last time and then loosen his arms and press a kiss to their nose. “Fine. The whole day.”

They rolled their eyes, but stood up and walked over to Regulus. “Alright. I’ll be back tomorrow. Love you.” Leo turned towards the door and suddenly felt a heavy weight against their back.

“Love you too, Nutter Butter Baby.” Finn said, kissing Leo goodbye.

Logan moving next to them kissing his lover afterwards “Love you. See you tomorrow, Peanut.”

Leo leaned into the kiss, staying tucked into their boyfriends arms for a second, until Regulus fake coughed behind them and they let go.

“Alright Nutter Butter Baby. Can we finally go now?”

Leo turned around, facing their friend with eyes that could kill, but a slight smile on their lips. “Oh, do fuck off.”

The laughter echoed into the staircase as the friends made their ways into town for a round of bowling.

“So.”, Regulus asked picking up a bowling ball from its mount and stepped up to them lane. “Do you know what you want to say?” The ball, as it left his hand, went straight for the side and all the way to the end without hitting a single pin.

Leo swapped places with the other, “No.”, they groaned letting their head fall back for a second. “Is it not weird for you that I’m coming out to your brother before you do?” They both watched the ball hit three of the ten pins, “Ha! I’m in the lead!”, Leo celebrated before sitting back down.

“Okay, first of all”, he carefully selected a ball, “No. For me it’ll just be a spur of the moment thing, I won’t plan it and you’re ready now and he’s your captain. Go for it.” Regulus reassured them and rolled the ball down the line hitting three pins aswell, but waiting for one more to fall at their impact. “And Second.” he started again, “I am in the lead now, bitch.”

Leo laughed and rolled their eyes. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

They played on for three hours, talking about everything that came to mind and being incredibly glad that they were able to change their shoes again. Leo’s had been a tiny bit too small and Regulus would have been able to fit in his wearing seven pairs of socks.

They arrived in front of Sirius’ and Remus’ place later that night, walking inside, toeing off their shoes and being greeted by the smell of fresh cotton and the sight of the couple sitting at the big table in the middle of the living room. There was a monopoly board on the table and Remus grinned up at them both.

“You up for a game?”, Regulus asked Leo as he got a glass of water for both himself and his friend.

A smile spread onto their face, “Only if you’re up for loosing.”

After a while, Sirius noticed the persistent bounce in Leo’s leg – a bounce he knew well enough to associate with nerves. The first thought that flashed across his mind involved the current game, but Leo was, in general, a good player. Whenever they played, Leo would put on the ‘goalie face’ – intense, focused, but relaxed. He turned to the younger one to get a further read on them. Leo had furrowed their brow and was rolling their bottom lip between their teeth – another two nervous habits Sirius had picked up on from working with Leo near on every day.

“Everything okay, rookie?”, Sirius asked.

Leo’s head snapped up from where they had stared at the board, lost in thought. They laughed stiffly, becoming more and more nervous by the second. It would be fine. They had done this once, they could do it again. Sirius and Remus would be fine with it. Leo was sure they would. Well, almost sure. “Yeah, yeah. I’m wonderful.”, they answered, voice a bit raspy.

“Nothing you want to get off your chest?”, Sirius prompted further, giving Leo the opportunity to talk, but not forcing them.

Leo knew he could see their leg bouncing. It was even moving the water in their glasses, there was no hiding it. They let out a sigh. Now or never. Although the statement was not completely true, it provided them with enough courage to actually spit out what was burning on their tongue. “Could you maybe, possibly refer to me with they/them pronouns from now on?”, Leo’s voice got smaller closer to the end but they were pretty sure both other man had understood.

“Of course, Knutty.” Sirius told him, as if Leo had just asked him to pass over the salt. “Whatever makes you most comfortable. Do you want me to tell the team or do you want to do it?”

That was not what Leo had been expecting. Looking over to the other, Loops just smiled at him and continued to stare daggers at his boyfriend, who had just cost him half his money.

“No. No that’s fine thank you, I’ll tell them.”, Leo told him, the surprise still evident in their voice. “Your support means the world to me.” they added a disbelieving smile on their lips, looking at the couple on the other side of the table.

“Yeah, no worries, buddy. We’ll be here every step of the way.” Remus told Leo, which almost made their eyes tear up. How did they deserve a team like the Lions.

Sirius rolled the dices and landed on one of Regulus’ hotels. “Pay up.”, Reg told him, with a bright grin. It seemed like the younger was going to win.

Sirius just pouted, turning to his boyfriend and started whining. “This is so unfair! I got onto his property five times already.”

Regulus didn’t even look up from where he had been checking what Sirius was due, just simply told him “Their property. Agender. They/them, thank you.”

Sirius didn’t even hesitate, before starting his sentence again. “I got onto their property five times already. Come on, this is cheating.”

Regulus often seemed like they didn’t care, but they flashed Sirius a grateful smile, receiving a loving one and a wink in return.

“Love you.”, Sirius mouthed as Remus continued the game.

Regulus felt it wash over them, warmth spreading through their body. “Love you, too.”

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hamburgerhelpersotherhand · 4 years ago

Note

the cheating scenario w/ hannibal was so good omg! would you do a part two? maybe reader has found comfort with Will and they start to pursue each other, would also love to see some jealous Hannibal 😏 I love your work!

Part 2 as requested ✨ I didn’t write much Hannibal in this, actually rhhdjshf I’m sure he’s great at hiding his true feelings.

*spoilers*

Will is sweet and all but I really like the idea of Hannibal setting him up as some ticking time bomb for Y/N to witness.

Warnings: Implied future mindbreak and dead pets.

Your presence in Will Graham’s home felt different. It was unlike what he had become accustomed to but things seemed to get better with time.

It was meant to only last a short while, giving you enough time to get yourself back on your feet with a clear mind and savings for your own place... but something bloomed between the two of you. Unintentionally, you might add.

So you stayed.

A human being often takes part in stupid things when life feels out of their control. But the decision to be with Will, physically and emotionally, never felt wrong. He was sweet, even kinder than Hannibal had led you to believe.

You had known Will for a while, but never well until this point. Up until now, Hannibal had never seen you around Will when you two had been together.

So when he had caught the slightest hint of your perfume on Will’s collar, you can only imagine his reaction.

“New cologne?” He asks Will, smoothing out his jacket.

“Mhm.” He replies, not giving it much thought as he sits down.

Hannibal notices his lack of care on the matter and drops it from the conversation.

“Alright, let’s begin.”

Hannibal likes Will, genuinely. But he doesn’t want you near him. Especially when he eventually breaks— and trust him... Will Graham is a twig under his boot.

But, as he’s listening to Will express the changes in his life— the new dog, the new diet and you- Hannibal quickly comes to a grim realization:

You’re going to have to be collateral damage.

“-he’s pushing me too hard. I’m inclined to believe her.” Will finishes.

Hannibal brings himself back into the conversation, having dozed off in his thoughts for the first time in a long while.

“Who’s pushing you too hard? Could you repeat yourself?” Hannibal asks.

Will shifts in his seat before speaking again.

“Y/N tells me Jack is pushing me too hard. And I’m inclined to believe her.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I stay up until ungodly hours for work.” Will laughs, looking at his feet. He’s silent for a moment as he rubs the inside of his palm. “The truth is... I still have nightmares. Things have been looking good lately, but I can’t sleep at night.”

Hannibal watches him intently, feeling content with the revelation. He knows how to proceed.

“Have you spoken to Y/N about it? I’m sure she’d appreciate the transparency.”

“No.” Will shifts again. “Dr Lecter- I’m sorry, I— I honestly don’t feel comfortable speaking of her with you—” He rolls his wrist. “-given your shared past.”

“It’s no problem.” Hannibal stops himself from gripping the armrest and, instead, reaches for his notes. “Let’s move on.”

Will nods.

“I can prescribe something that will help, but you have to take it daily. Every night before bed.” Hannibal begins writing on his notepad. “It should help you sleep.”

And it did.

Will Graham had managed to sleep, but wild dreams still flooded his mind.

They felt vivid— real. But they were far from his previous nightmares. They were more along the lines of something a child would dream of- unhinged and randomized as they were.

He had taken the meds for about a week, and would always wake up in a different room than he had fallen asleep in. Hannibal had assured him it was because of his level of stress, and it would balance itself out with time and rest.

The sleepwalking was nothing to be scared of.

But on the seventh night, as he dreamt soothingly, his mouth became flooded with warmth, an unfamiliar beating played on his tongue and against his gums. When he had opened his eyes, falling away from the trance-like dream, Will Graham nearly choked.

There, in his gripping hands, he tightly held the twitching body of one of his smaller dogs. Bloodied and struggling, he could barely recognize it like this.

Will spat at the ground, his fingers dropping the animal as he tried to assess the situation. But his mind wouldn’t respond, only focusing on the here and now. He darted his eyes around as his breathing quickened at an alarming rate. He looked about his other dogs, all of which sat awake and cowering in the corners of the room.

As he later observed himself in the bathroom’s mirror, he became aware of the shaking in his hands and the bloodied mess covering his face. He felt sick.

His hands nearly stopped him from turning on the sink, but he needed to wash up as soon as possible.

As quietly as he could, he retrieved his phone from the bedroom and called Hannibal from the tight comfort of his car, explaining to him what had happened and wasting no time on blaming it on the medication.

“What if I killed her? I-I don’t know what to do— Hannibal, what if I killed her?” Will frantically begins to talk, spitting at the dirt from his open door between stops as if blood still flooded his mouth. “I don’t know what to do with the body.”

“Y/N’s body?” Hannibal asks.

“No—no, god no. I mean... the dog. The dog in my living room.” Will shuts his eyes and exhales. “Y/N is sleeping.”

“Will, it’s a dog.” Hannibal persuades, smiling as he does. “As sad as losing a pet may be, you haven’t committed a crime.”

The next morning, you awoke to a certain smell. It stung your nose until your eyes shot open at the realization.

You jumped out of bed and rushed to the kitchen. Will stood by the sink, filling up the water filter, but didn’t seem to notice the smoke coming from the iron pan on the stove.

“Will!” You shouted, grabbing a rag to move the pan away from the heat. He turns around and sets down the filter. Will grabs your arm before you could throw anything into the sink.

“It’s just a little charred.” He says quietly.

“Don’t you smell the smoke?” You look to him with concern. His responses have been slowed, almost slurred.

“I think I’m congested.”

You look down and observe the food. It’s burnt scrambled eggs with equally charcoaled diced ham.

“You can’t expect me to let you eat this—” You say, shrugging his hand away. His arm falls to his side as he watches you dump the iron pan, along with the blackened food, into the sink. “-especially if you aren’t feeling well.”

With a heavy exhale, you lean against the counter and look at him. Your observation lasts a while, and he seems to watch you as well. His eyes look weighted and tired.

“You’re exhausted.” You say, bringing your hand forward to brush the hair out of his face. “Did you sleep at all last night?” You ask.

He twitches.

“... No,” Will takes your hand into his own, rubbing gentle circles above your knuckles as he looks dazedly at your fingers. “I’ve been busy.”

#hannibal #hannibal x reader #will graham #will graham x reader #x reader #yandere #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere x reader #ask #request

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freebooter4ever · 3 years ago

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Living in close quarters for months on end with a bunch of men his own age doesn't bother Snafu a bit. It's the one part of the Marines Corps he actually enjoys. Like living on an island full of eye candy. Snafu became mostly numb to the sheer number of naked butts by the end of his second day on Pavuvu. With the heat and the sun, the men need very little provocation to strip their clothing off. It was distracting for about an hour and then it became commonplace.

Later, after Gloucester, after living for three straight weeks in rain and misery, under the constant threat of violent death, and then returning once more to Pavuvu, Snafu becomes numb to everything....

He's never been one for carousing - a trait his peers in high school picked up on pretty quick. He's been compensating ever since. Packing on the innuendo and flirtation, and studying how other men act towards women and amplifying it in his own behavior.

So even before the numbness set in, Snafu isn't sure he ever actually felt anything like what others seem to describe. Even though Snafu admires his daily fill of half dressed fellow Marines wandering around camp, he does it in a detached sort of way that makes him feel more like an observer than participant. And it's good, because while there are whispers and rumors about certain guys who will take a man into the woods and show him a good time, Snafu doesn't need to get involved. He gets himself into enough trouble without adding a court martial onto it.

A few days after Gloucester an envelope arrives. There's no letter, simply a newspaper clipping slipped inside and stamped. The clipping is from his hometown newspaper and the article is about their hometown hero - brave Merriell Shelton - who shot up the enemy with his 'mortar gun'.

It's truly amazing how in a small town such as his, one can go from being the delinquent orphan son of impoverished half crazed parents easily forgotten by polite society, to being a hometown hero in the span of one battle.

Everyone in K company teases him about the article, especially about the 'mortar gun' bit. Snafu enjoys it immensely. He takes pride in his notoriety. It adds to his carefully cultivated mystique. No one wants to fuck with the fast talking, mean Merriell Shelton, war hero.

In actuality, Snafu is no hero. He fights for one reason, and that's the fifty dollars a month being sent home to his kid sister. He doesn't want her saddled with being a burden to her adopted family. Not like Snafu was with their own parents.

Overall, aside from the numbness, everything about Snafu's time in the Marine Corps is going well. He has respect, he has the looming potential of death and relief, and he has a steady diet of filling if questionable food. He thinks he's got a handle on things.

Till his downfall arrives a few days after the envelope.

Eugene Sledge looks like a fool from the minute he steps into Snafu's tent. Something about him irritates the hell out of Snafu. To try and figure out what about Sledge bothers him so much, Snafu goes out of his way to run into the guy. But no dice. Nothing works.

It doesn't click until Snafu accidentally runs into Sledge in the showers. Normally Snafu showers on off times to avoid any accidents. But after one particularly disgusting round of coconut duty, Snafu is stuck washing the gritty stickiness off in the middle of the day.

At first there's just him and Pops in the showers. A typical sight - Gunney Haney is obsessively clean. Snafu ignores him, and ignores the new Boots who join them halfway through. Snafu requires single minded focus to fish out all the coconut pieces that mysteriously found their way into his hair.

Once finished, Snafu turns around and bends his head back under the stream of water to rinse. He opens his eyes after the worst of the suds are gone, and spots Eugene Sledge in the group of new recruits. They are huddled around the shower heads in the opposite corner as far away from Snafu and Pops as they can get. Snafu smirks at them as a greeting.

It's kinda fun being intimidating.

Except they aren't paying attention to him. Sledge's eyes are transfixed on Haney as the man scrubs his dick.

Admittedly, for the uninitiated, seeing Haney shower is quite a sight. The man uses a bristly GI brush. The working theory is that he's been doing it so long and he's so old that his skin is pickled enough to be as thick and tough as leather. Everyone stares and winces in pain when they first witness Haney washing his junk.

However, Sledge is unusually engrossed. Snafu feels a strange prickle at the back of his neck and a spike of annoyance over this.

Jealousy - a word Snafu's never related to before.

Once he recognizes the feeling, though, he starts seeing it everywhere. Sledge is genuinely kind, and cares about everyone in a way that would stretch Snafu thin enough to break. Sledge is the best sharpshooter in the company, beating Snafu's considerable score by almost an entire point. Sledge takes every work duty thrown at him without complaint and with stubborn pride. Sledge takes everything thrown at him without complaint, including Snafu's own malice.

And all Snafu wants is for Sledge to just fucking look at him.

The tipping point comes after Sledge's little buddy Philips rotates home without warning. The despondency Sledge sinks into for a few days makes Snafu ache with frustration. Sledge starts disappearing whenever the replacements get an hour or two off. Snafu makes it his mission to find him.

He eventually does. Turns out Sledge is running off to a secluded beach, but he never goes in the water. Instead he sits crosslegged in the sand and stares at crabs. Snafu shimmies up a palm tree and scoots across the rough bark until he's nearly hanging over the oblivious Sledge.

In Sledge's lap is a dog-eared notebook, probably a moonlight requisition from the officer's tents. Sledge hunches over the page, his hand scribbling furiously and Snafu cranes his neck till he can see what Sledge is working on.

It's drawings of crabs. Countless pages of them. Snafu straddles the uncomfortable palm tree for almost an hour, watching in disbelief as Sledge makes study after study of crab anatomy.

Instead of killing the damn invasive creatures with a shovel and burying them in the sand, Sledge draws them.

If Snafu could draw, maybe he'd finally be free of this strange fascination that's taken hold of him. The image of Sledge that one afternoon - showering, naked and lean and glowing in the midafternoon sun - burned itself in Snafu's brain. He doesn't know how to purge himself of it. At the time, he didn't even realize he'd been looking that closely at Sledge while they were in the showers, but afterwards his brain pieced the scraps of memory together and gave him a picture more vivid than what he thought he saw.

And now he sees it whenever he looks at Sledge.

Even on Peleliu, after everything's gone to shit, but somehow they got off the beach and somehow they're not dead yet, his mind drifts to Sledge. The boy strips off his shoes in the midst of battle. Snafu stops him, shoving Sledge's boots back into his chest with force.

It's the first time he lays hands on Sledge and he doesn't even register it because he's too busy being worried about the damn idiot being caught with his pants down and shoes off.

Sledge is a distraction. That's all he is.

Until Sledge fucking picks Snafu up off the ground even when Snafu is pretty sure he's already dead. Sledge drags Snafu out of his shock and out of danger, and proves he can keep his cool during battle. Cooler even than Snafu, who still runs hot whenever Sledge gets too close.

Naive little Sledgehammer grew up quick, but unlike Snafu, he did not grow up mean - he still saves worthless things fallen helpless in the sand and dirt. From that minute on, Snafu makes it his personal mission to preserve Eugene's goodness.

He doesn't anticipate Sledgehammer accepting Snafu's newfound loyalty so readily.

Burgie calls Snafu out on it teasingly during their ship ride back to dreaded Pavuvu. A painful bout of seasickness causes Snafu to lose track of Sledgehammer for a few hours aboard ship, and Snafu spends the time wandering the decks in search of him.

"Since when did you appoint yourself as his shadow, Snaf?" Burgie retorts when Snafu asks if he's seen the 'Hammer'.

"Just need to collect on my bet about him smoking by the end of his first battle," Snafu shrugs.

"Every nonsmoker smokes by the end of their first battle, Snafu. You already knew that," Burgie says, "Leave him be."

"No way," Snafu argues, "Someone needs to teach that rich boy that he don't know everything."

"And of course you'd be the one to do it," Burgie sighs.

Ironically, Sledge is the one to find Snafu in a random ship compartment instead of the other way around. Snafu is lying prone, trying to keep his half digested meal from rolling around.

"Here," Sledge says, shoving a small box at Snafu as hard as Snafu shoved Eugene's boots.

"What is it?" Snafu asks, feigning disinterest.

"Crackers. They'll help with the stomach," Sledge replies, "C'mon, let's get you topside."

"How the hell'd you get crackers on a ship short of rations?" Snafu asks. He obediently follows Eugene through the ship to the deck. Like a damn shadow.

"I sweet talked one of the swabbies," Sledge explains casually.

That news roils Snafu's gut. Jealousy again. It's lucky they made it to the deck. He staggers to the rail and pukes overboard.

"The swabby liked my accent," Eugene says and leans beside Snafu, "Think he was from northern Alabama. I told him how us southern boys have the best aim in the Marines."

Snafu finishes vomiting up the last of his afternoon chow.

Sledge sighs and places his hand on Snafu's upper back.

Snafu's glad no one else is around on this part of the deck to see his shame. He hangs on the rail and feels miserable.

"Get it all out?" Sledge asks, and passes Snafu his canteen.

Snafu takes a sip, swishes it around his mouth, and spits into the sea. And then guzzles as much water as he thinks he can keep down. He sticks his tongue out at the disgusting aftertaste and hands the canteen back.

Sledge runs his hand down from Snafu's back to his arm. Before Snafu knows what's happening Eugene is gently taking Snafu's hand and leading him away from the rail. Sledge sits on the deck and leans against the ship's wall. He tugs on Snafu's hand for him to sit next to him.

"Better to go down to one of the cabins," Snafu resists.

"You don't want to know how bad it smells down there," Sledge warns, "Trust me. Fresh air is best."

Snafu gives in and collapses next to Eugene. He tilts his head back against the cold metal and closes his eyes.

Sledge takes the box of saltines from Snafu's hands and Snafu hears rustling as Sledge opens the package. Sledge then nudges Snafu's elbow with the box.

"Eat," Sledge says.

Snafu groans and leans his head on Sledgehammer's shoulder instead. He doesn't want any ill-gotten flirtation crackers. It's a lot easier to close his eyes and pretend to sleep.

Sledge seems to not mind Snafu sleeping on him. He doesn't move away, at least. So Snafu uses it as an excuse to shuffle closer. Which is when he realizes Eugene never let go of his hand. He's still holding on. Tight.

"Snafu?" Sledge prompts. He uses Snafu's nickname like they're best buds, though they've hardly ever spoken.

Snafu grunts.

"On that airfield…" Sledge says, "Don't you ever dare do that again, allright?"

"Whatever you say, Sledgehammer," Snafu drawls, "Don't even know what I did."

"You just...lay there," Sledge says quietly, "Like you were...."

"Waiting?" Snafu tries to remember his own state of mind in that moment.

"Gone," Sledge says sharply.

"Same damn thing," Snafu gives up on sleeping and lights a cigarette.

"If you're not around who'll tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Sledge asks.

"Shit, Sledge," Snafu drawls with a grin, "practically anybody who's not you could do that."

Sledge actually chuckles. That's the thing about Eugene. He's not stuck up or prissy like Snafu'd expect him to be. He's humble, and willing to laugh at his own inexpertise.

"I'd rather it be you," Eugene adds quietly with a small smile.

Snafu sucks on his bottom lip and refuses to respond to that.

"So no dying," Eugene finishes, as if such a conclusion were a choice.

Snafu does fall asleep and when he wakes up a few hours later, Sledge's head is tipped on top of Snafu's. Sledge's long nose is in Snafu's hair and he's snoring loud enough to wake the enemy a thousand miles away. Snafu can feel Eugene's snores blowing his hair around.

Despite these annoyances, Snafu tries to freeze in place and jostle Eugene as little as possible.

Their hands are still linked together. Sledge's hand is wrapped tight around Snafu's. Snafu lifts Sledge's hand to examine his delicate fingers - long and gentle, but not dainty. Eugene has the calluses of an expert marksman, and painfully short fingernails. Snafu picks at the boy's ring curiously.

Sledge shifts and turns farther in towards Snafu's body. He draws his arm away from Snafu's fiddling and instead places his hand on Snafu's soft belly. "Stop moving," he mumbles.

"You stop snoring," Snafu complains. He bumps his head intentionally into Sledge's big nose to make his point.

Sledge ignores him and slumps more of his weight onto Snafu's shoulder.

Snafu accepts his fate and reaches over Sledge's body to steal the saltines. He opens the cracker package and starts snacking.

"Must you, with the crunching?" Sledge snarls after a few minutes.

"Got hungry, Sledgehammer," Snafu, "If you're gonna be using me as a pillow, I'm gonna need to generate extra padding."

Sledge sighs and holds his hand out, "Give me one."

Snafu complies, "If you get crumbs in my hair, I'll kill ya."

"Wouldn't be the worst thing in your hair right now, Snafu," Sledge gripes.

"Yeah? What else is up there? Pick it out for me," Snafu grins.

"Smells like you took a nap in seawater," Sledge says, "Or smoke."

"Get your long nose out of my hair then," Snafu quips.

"Once you get past the brine smell it's not so bad," Sledge mutters and doesn't move

"Yeah, well your shoulder smells like…" Snafu starts, and then cuts off when he realizes Eugene's shoulder doesn't smell like anything Snafu finds unpleasant. "Did you change your shirt?"

"Traded it for the saltines," Sledge explains, "The swabby wanted a souvenir that saw battle. I gave it to him. Stole this one off a supply crate."

"Fuck, Eugene, I thought you flirted your way into the galley," Snafu grumbles.

"Who says taking off my shirt wasn't a part of that?"

Snafu can't see it with his head on Sledge's shoulder but he swears Gene is smirking at him. "Should have just given him your pin," Snafu argues.

"Can't," Eugene replies, "Sid says they're good luck."

Snafu rolls his eyes at the mention of stupid Sid and settles back comfortably to sleep.

Eugene hooks a thumb in between Snafu's button holes in his shirt to keep his hand on Snafu's stomach. His fingertips barely brush Snafu's bare skin, and suddenly Snafu is no longer interested in sleeping.

And then Eugene's wandering fingers hit Snafu's shrapnel wound.

His response is immediate and a little shocking, "What the fuck, Snafu?" Without asking Eugene starts popping open all of Snafu's shirt buttons.

"What the hell, Sledge?" Snafu tries to back away from him.

"My father's a physician, let me look at you," Eugene orders. He manhandles Snafu's hips forward away from the wall to stretch him out on the deck. Snafu's thin wound runs from right beside his belly button to right over his hip. "Jesus, Snaf, that could turn infected."

Snafu is still trying to process the feel of Eugene's long hands gripping his hips, there is no room in his brain for worrying about infections right now.

"You're gonna need to lie down," Eugene tells him, "Here…" Sledge takes off his shirt and folds it up so Snafu doesn't have to rest his head on the floor.

"Thanks," Snafu says blankly.

"I thought it didn't hit you, you idiot?" Eugene asks.

"Naw, it hit me," Snafu smiles, "just didn't kill me."

"Wait here, I need a kit," Sledge gets up and walks off, leaving Snafu on his own.

Snaf uncomfortably folds his open shirt closed and crosses his arms over his chest self-consciously. He hopes no one will accidentally walk past this part of the ship while Snafu is stuck laying here like a patient. It takes far too long for Sledge to return.

When Eugene does finally return, he's holding a big medic kit that definitely is going to be missed somewhere.

"What'd you have to take off to get that?" Snafu asks, his voice mean, "Your pants?"

"I'll return it when I'm done," Sledge tells him in a no nonsense tone. He sets the kit down and flips it open. "I'll need to open the waist of your pants though, do you mind?"

Snafu looks to the sky to avoid Sledge's concerned gaze. "Don't care," Snafu says as nonchalantly as he is able. He wets his lips and squeezes his eyes shut.

Sledge gently uncrosses Snafu's arms and moves them to the side. When Sledge unbuttons Snafu's pants, Snafu takes a deep breath. His stomach constricts, and he knows his bones are poking out embarrassingly far. Sledge's hands are warm and surprisingly soft. Cleaning everything, and putting a tiny amount of stitches near Snafu's waistband area doesn't take Sledge long at all. Before Snafu even gets to fully enjoy the feeling of Eugene's fingers sliding over his most sensitive area, Eugene is already buttoning Snafu's pants back up and smoothing his shirt down. Snafu flicks the shirt back off, deciding if he's already indecent he might as well continue that way.

Snafu moves to sit up, but Sledge puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay down for a bit," Sledge says, "I want my shirt back though. Here." He scoots next to the wall at Snafu's head and then helps Snafu lean forward enough that Sledge can reclaim his stolen shirt. Sledge throws the shirt on and then scoots closer again, beckoning Snafu to lay back down.

Having his head in Sledge's lap is about a thousand times more distracting than Eugene touching his skin. There was a medical excuse for that. There's no goddamn excuse for this.

As if reading Snafu's mind, Sledge decides to up the ante and he runs his hand along the clean skin beside Snafu's wound. Sledge's hand continues up to Snafu's chest and then stops. Sledge picks at a brown spot of dried mud below Snafu's sternum till it pops off and he can flick it away onto the deck. He then massages away the sting and leaves his hand resting there.

Snafu daringly rests his own hand on top of Sledge's. He doesn't breathe even once till they're both settled and Eugene doesn't pull away.

"You need a shower, Snafu," Sledge comments.

"You gonna give me one?" Snafu lolls his head so he can see Sledge's face.

"Only way to do that now would be to toss you off the ship," Sledge says seriously.

"That a no?" Snafu guesses.

Sledge glances down at Snafu with his signature 'I know better than you, but I am also amused' expression, and then stares blankly out towards the sea. He sighs, "Sleep off the seasickness. I promise I won't snore."

Snafu silently watches Eugene's profile for a while before he finally closes his eyes.

Sledge keeps his promise. He doesn't fall asleep once during the entire time Snafu is out. Sledge does, however, eventually remove his hand from atop Snafu's chest and that wakes Snafu up instantly.

Snafu stays perfectly still, and tries to breathe as even as possible. He doesn't want Sledge to notice he's awake and kick Snafu out of his lap.

Snafu carefully peeks one eye open, and sees two hands hovering above his head holding a book and pencil.

"Writing again?" Snafu accuses.

"Hmmm," Sledge says.

"What about?" Snafu asks.

"You," Sledge responds.

Snafu smiles. He knows Sledge is just being obtuse and not actually writing about him, but still, "Tell me."

"No," Sledge refuses.

Snafu eyes Sledge's hands and attempts to determine how much force it would take for him to grab the book away.

"If you take this bible from me, I'll never let you sleep on me again," Sledge warns.

"What makes you think that's a threat?" Snafu teases. He sits up and tries to lean over to read Sledge's writing.

"Because you slept like a baby during your nap," Sledge says. He angles the book away from Snafu's prying eyes.

"Plenty of other guys in the company more comfortable than you to sleep on, Sledgehammer," Snafu says.

Sledge looks Snafu straight in the eye and dares him, "Then why don't you go find them?"

Snafu holds his gaze for a few breaths. And then wordlessly puts his head back in Eugene's lap.

Sledge calmly sets down his pencil and book, and threads his hand into Snafu's hair instead. "You know what I miss?" Sledge idly scratches Snafu's head as he talks, "Having an inexhaustible supply of blank paper."

"I still don't understand how you've managed to hold onto that one pencil nub for so long," Snafu comments. If talking means Sledge will massage his head, Snafu will do anything to carry this conversation.

"Writing in my bible is well and good, but nothing compares to a fresh blank sheet," Sledge states, "I can't believe that in school I used to tear pages up, or throw them away if I made even one typewriter mistake."

"We should find you a new pencil," Snafu continues his own train of thought, "Or maybe a couple."

"What a waste," Sledge sighs over his stupid crumpled typewriter pages.

"I bet the officers' tent in camp has pencils," Snafu muses.

"You need to borrow a pencil?" Sledge asks, "Sorry, I wasn't listening for a minute. Here, take mine." He hands Snafu the tiny nubby remains.

"Thanks, Sledgehammer," Snafu says and sticks the pencil behind his ear to remind himself later.

The first thing Snafu does on Pavuvu is go scrounging for paper. The constant stream of people coming in and out of the officer's tents makes it particularly easy to search. Snafu gets five pencils on only one run. He doesn't dare take the brand new stacks of paper. It would be too obviously missed. Instead he hunts through trash bins around the camp, and pulls out anything that looks clean and innocuous.

Snafu figures any important classified documents are being shredded or burned immediately anyway. No chance of him accidentally picking up something he shouldn't.

It takes a few days, but finally Snafu hits the jackpot. An entire stack of half used blank sheet notebooks. They're spiral bound, and the edges are dirty, and the covers don't look particularly pretty. But the pages inside are clean. Snafu takes his stack behind the mess tent and scrubs off some of the dirt stains.

A few of the notebooks are too gross to be salvageable. For these he carefully cleans his knife, and cuts out the crisp pages individually.

When he's finished he leaves his collection on Sledge's cot with the pencils resting on top of everything. Satisfied, Snafu takes a step back and surveys his work. Then realizes he can't let it look like he is doing Gene any favors. He sticks his hands out and musses the papers completely so the stacks are no longer neat and the pages aren't ordered by type. But he leaves the pencils on top. He doesn't want them to get lost or sat on.

At first Sledge doesn't say anything about Snafu's gift. The next time Snafu stops by the empty tent, the paper and notebooks are neatly stacked on a high shelf to keep it out of the way of crabs and vermin. It warms Snafu to see how organized the messy pile he left became. Even the pencils are safe and snug wrapped in a little handmade pouch.

Snafu takes the warm feeling with him to chow that evening.

"Did you wake up on the right side of the bed for once, Snaf?" Burgie asks.

Snafu brushes his comments off with a smile and sarcastic look.

Sledge looks up the minute he realizes Snafu is sitting down. "Hey," he says eloquently.

"Hey," Snafu says back. He sets his tray down and pulls out his cigarettes.

"I swear you smoke more than you eat," Sledge observes. He eyes Snafu's still mostly full and cooling plate of food.

"I only put things in my mouth if it's worth the bother," Snafu tells him, smirking.

"Are you saying warm mush isn't worth it?" Bill jokes as he polishes off his own bowl heartily.

Snafu laughs at Bill's graceless eating, till he realizes Eugene is staring. Not at Bill, but at Snafu. And looking very mournful for some reason. Unable to stand seeing Eugene looking that way, Snafu anxiously extends his hand to touch Sledge's knuckles, and then offers him a smoke.

"No thanks, Snafu," Sledge says, very unfriendly and possibly looking to start a fight, "I prefer to eat my meals."

"Has anyone gotten any letters from home yet?" Burgie changes the subject brightly.

Bill shakes his head.

"Nothing but my mother's usual package," Sledge says. He notices Snafu staring at him with quiet interest and adds with a sigh, "Yes, Snafu, I saved you your favorite jar."

Snafu smiles, "See, always worth it to wait." He grabs his unused spoon off the table and slips it into his pants for later.

"Sid still hasn't written to tell me if he made it home okay," Sledge says with a worried frown.

"I'm sure he did," Burgie says kindly.

"What about you, Burg?" Snafu interrupts, "You hear anything from Florence lately?"

"She's written, yes," Burgie says and turns as red as the canned beets Sledge's mother mailed last week.

Snafu whistles, Leyden begs Burgie to read any exciting bits aloud, and Sledge politely asks who Florence is.

"Burgie's girl he met in Australia after Gloucester," Snafu explains.

"I knew she liked me because she was the only girl not flocking around Snaf," Burgie jokes.

"Like flies to shit?" Bill snaps, "Snafu being the shit 'n ass."

"Don't think he slept in the stadium bunks with the rest of us even once," Jay laughs.

"I had more worthwhile places to go," Snafu says and eyes Sledge to gauge his reaction. He lazily takes a drag on his cigarette.

"Think we'll be given liberty in Australia again sometime?" Sledge asks. He holds Snafu's gaze steady.

"Don't care," Snafu shrugs.

"Unfortunately no," Burgie says, "I suspect we'll be run ragged till this war is over."

"At least she writes you," Bill interjects, "You'll just have to skip over thataway and pick her up before going home at the end of all this."

"Not sure how I'll manage that," Burgie takes a deep breath, "But it's true, I think she felt as strongly as I did. She expresses it well in her letters."

Bill whines that Burgie is holding out on his buddies by not divulging the content of said letters. He and Burgie get into a heated discussion that mostly consists of Bill begging and wallowing in self pity over not having any sweethearts.

Snafu and Eugene ignore them. Once Sledge finishes his meal, Snafu offers his cigarette again, and Sledge accepts. They pass it back and forth as they watch the sunset over the beach in the distance. Snafu wallows in every single touch of their fingers during each exchange.

"Speaking of mail," Sledge starts, "Snafu, did you leave paper on my bunk?"

"Why would I leave paper on your bunk?" Snafu scoffs.

"I thought maybe you were writing a letter and forgot it, or something?" Sledge asks, as though he isn't smart enough to put two and two together. No one accidentally leaves a jumble of notebooks lying around. Not when they're such a hard commodity to find.

Bill barks a laugh "Snafu writing? Can you imagine...that'd be the day."

"The only paper I ever concern myself with is asswipe," Snafu taunts. He dangles his cigarette out of his mouth and smirks at Leyden. Snafu throws one cautious glance over to Sledge and immediately regrets it.

Instead of being grateful, Sledge is annoyed. He snatches the cigarette straight out of Snafu's mouth. Sledge's fingers press into Snafu's lips briefly before he steals the smoke away, almost like a gentle punch. The unexpected touch and Sledge's deadly serious glare turns Snafu hot down to his toes.

Sledge finishes the cigarette in dead silence, and rather than stub it into the ashtray, he takes the nub and sticks it back between Snafu's lips. Sledge abruptly stands, grabs his tray, and stalks off without another word.

Leyden awkwardly coughs and gives Snafu a sympathetic look.

"Did you dump a bunch of papers on Eugene's bed?" Burgie asks Snafu for clarification.

"Fuck no," Snafu lies. They know he's lying. He grinds the cigarette into dust on the ashtray.

"Maybe I should have mentioned the Australian guys were buzzing around you, too," Jay suggests to Snafu, "Except there were less of them thanks to the war."

"Don't think that would've helped, Jay," Burgie says.

"Yeah?" Snafu says. He climbs over the mess hut wall and walks off.

#Sledgefu #Pining #Demisexual snafu #Bad germs

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milfjensenackles · 4 years ago

Text

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

2k words | read it on ao3

Cas and Sam sat together in the War Room, attempting to drown out Dean’s screams with tense bursts of conversation.

Sam located Dean a few days ago after discovering that Crowley turned him into a demon. Dean was less than happy to leave Crowley behind for the bunker, so Sam ended up knocking him out and carrying Dean’s limp body to the Impala. Once he’d collected his brother, he called Cas for help. Cas was pissed, to say the least.

“How could you let this happen to him, Sam?”

Sam placed his head in his hands. “I thought he was dead!”

Cas folded his arms across his chest, still angry. He wasn’t really angry at Sam, though. He was angry at himself for not stopping Dean from taking on the Mark of Cain in the first place. All of this could have been prevented.

“Cas, I think the demon cure might kill him.” Sam said, choking up at the thought. “There has to be another way.”

Cas felt a chill run down his spine. Sam was right. “There is… one thing I can think of, but it’s very old magic. There’s no way to know if it would actually work.”

“Well? Spit it out!” Sam was becoming increasingly frustrated.

“True love’s kiss,” Cas said tentatively.

Sam’s eyes narrowed, his face incredulous at the suggestion. “There’s no way that’s actually a thing. And even if it was, who would Dean’s ‘True Love’ even be? Cassie? Lisa?”

Cas shrugged. “I hardly think it could be Lisa, Sam. Dean had me erase her memory.”

Sam huffed at that. Dean hadn’t been romantically interested in anyone in years. He barely even tried to pick up women at the bars they stumbled into after their more difficult cases. Dean hasn’t had a long-term relationship… pretty much ever. The only people he has a consistent relationship with are Sam and his best friend… Cas.

“Cas,” Sam said quietly, “What if… what if you’re Dean’s true love?”

Cas was stunned into silence. There’s no way it could be him. At the very least, Cas knew Dean wasn’t attracted to men. “Sam…”

Sam cut him off. “No, wait a second. Hear me out. You two have been through literal Hell and back for each other. You’re always obnoxiously staring at each other – and don’t try to deny it, I see the way you look at him. You care about Dean more than all of those angels. More than most other humans. You refused to kill Dean, even if it meant losing their support. Does all of this ring a bell?”

Cas was staring off into space, his lips pressed into a thin line. Sam was more observant than Cas had realized. Cas has known about his feelings for Dean for quite some time now. He still had trouble understanding them, though. Sometimes it was overwhelming, how much he cared for Dean. It felt like he might split open with the weight of his desire. Angels weren’t supposed to feel that way, especially about a human, so Cas pushed it away. A problem for another day. He supposed today was that day. Cas shook his head. “What about you? You are his brother. Maybe a kiss on the cheek from you would suffice.”

Sam tossed the idea around in his head before nodding. “Okay. We’ll try that first. But Cas, I’m serious. We’re running out of options here.”

Cas grimaced, but slowly nodded in agreement.

Sam and Cas made their way to Dean, prepared for the worst. What they weren’t prepared for, however, was an empty room, with Dean’s chair kicked over and his restraints undone. Sam and Cas looked at each other, mouths open in an ‘O’ shape.

“Fuck,” Cas swore.

Sam nodded. “Agreed.”

Cas and Sam split up, covering each corner of the bunker to try to sneak up on Dean. Cas ended up in a back hallway, praying to whatever might be listening that Dean was still in the bunker. As Cas rounded a corner, his prayers seemed to have been answered, as he runs right into Dean’s chest. The last thing Cas sees is blackened eyes before he’s slammed up against a hard surface.

Dean smirked at Cas. “Aw, the little angel thought he might stand a chance against me. That’s cute.” Dean slid the angel blade out from Cas’ hands, which were pressed above Castiel’s head now. Dean leaned in, only a millimeter from Cas’ face. Cas looked from side to side, hoping to find something that might help him out of his unfortunate position, but Dean had Cas pinned against the wall. Cas was out of options. He had to at least try, didn’t he? For Dean. Cas mustered all of his strength and pressed forward, attaching his mouth to Dean’s. It was clinical, almost. A simple press of lips. And then as soon as the kiss had started, it was abruptly ended by Dean pushing Cas off of him.

Cas slid to the floor, relief flooding him. Cas looked up at Dean. Dean had his hands pressed to his knees as he leaned against the opposite wall. He looked down at Cas, seemingly bewildered. “What just happened?”

Cas’ eyes widened. “Dean?”

“Hey, Cas. Why do I feel like I just got the shit kicked out of me? How did we get here? Why are you on the floor?” Dean reached out to help Cas to his feet.

Cas was speechless. He floundered for a moment, looking for the right words, before deciding to turn away and walk down the hallway, leaving a confused Dean behind him.

There was a knock at Cas’ door. He stiffened immediately, not looking forward to a conversation with either Winchester brother. Sam stuck his head in. “Were you gonna tell me you figured out how to fix Dean? He just walked up to me and asked about getting some pie and I almost fell out of my chair.”

Cas sighed. “My apologies, Sam.”

Sam moved to sit next to Cas on the bed, waving away Cas’ apology. “Whatever, dude. How’d you do it? Was it a spell?”

Cas debated his answer in his mind. If he told Sam, Sam might tell Dean, which would be humiliating. If he didn’t tell Sam, Sam would become suspicious of him. Before Cas could respond though, Sam took his silence as all the answer he needed. His face lit up with understanding. “You didn’t.”

Cas held his hands up in an attempt to stop Sam from saying anything more damning. “Sam, please. I don’t want Dean to find out.”

Sam looked confused, his eyebrows scrunching together. “Why not? This is incredible! You two obviously both have feelings for each other. Now you can go for it!”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I cannot simply ‘go for it’, Sam. I took advantage of Dean during a moment of weakness. He has no idea that I was the one who saved him, or how I managed to save him. It should stay that way. I don’t want to ruin our relationship. It’s Dean. He means too much to me to lose him.”

Sam seemed to ponder this information for a moment, before saying, “I think that’s all the more reason to tell him the truth.”

With that, Sam left Cas alone to his thoughts.

A few days, Cas was sitting in the kitchen with Sam when Dean rambled in, hair mussed and eyes bloodshot. Cas gave Dean a small smile, which Dean noticed and returned immediately. Cas had been avoiding Dean for the past few days, but luckily Dean didn’t seem to notice.

“How are you, Dean?” Cas asked.

Dean sighed. “Still not a hundred percent, but that’ll happen with demon possession.”

Dean winked at him. Cas felt his heartrate increase, the memory of their brief kiss still haunting him. Sam looked between his brother and Cas, a knowing smile on his face. Cas gave him a warning glare. Unfortunately for Cas, Dean saw this exchange. He pointed an accusatory finger between the two of them. “Are you guys fighting?”

Right as Cas said “No!”, Sam interjected with a louder “Yes, actually.” They both turned to glare at each other again.

Sam held up his hand to stop Cas from saying anything else, before leaning toward Dean to explain. “Cas and I had a… disagreement yesterday.”

Dean sat down across from the two of them. “Lay it on me.”

Cas tried to interrupt, giving Sam a pointed look. “Dean, you don’t want to listen to this. You’re still exhausted.”

“No, Cas, I think it would be good to get Dean’s perspective,” Sam smirked. “So get this, Dean. Cas here did something to a friend who needed his help. This friend might not have survived without Cas stepping in. Cas won’t tell this friend though! I think Cas should tell him. What do you think?”

Cas was furious with Sam and let him know with a single look. Sam looked slightly admonished, which satisfied Cas. Dean, however, was ignoring all of this to ponder what Sam had said. “I think you should let your friend know, buddy. They’d probably appreciate it.”

Sam clapped his hand on Cas’ shoulder, standing up from the table. “See, there you have it, Cas! I’ll leave you two to it.”

“What friends do you got that I don’t know?” Dean asked once Sam was out of earshot.

“None,” Cas responded through gritted teeth.

Dean scrunched his eyebrows together like he was doing mental math that didn’t quite add up. Cas could only imagine it: ‘If 1 + 1 =3, then Sam must be talking about Dean.’ This was the worst day of his very long life. Finally, after many excruciating moments, Dean spoke up again. “Was Sam talking about me?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dean.”

“Is that why you’ve been so cagey about the whole demon thing lately? What did you do? Should I be concerned about some weird angel mojo thing goin’ on inside me?”

Cas sighed. “No, Dean,” He scrubbed his hand down his face. “Sam and I were running out of ideas. We had to save you. I knew of only one way to do so. It is known as ‘True Love’s Kiss’. We were going to have Sam try it out by kissing your cheek, but you escaped. You located me first. I thought you might kill me, so… I had to try, Dean. I hope you can forgive me.”

Dean stood up abruptly, shocked by the information he’d just received. Cas didn’t know what to do, so he stayed seated, uncomfortably waiting for Dean to react. Dean walked over to where Cas was seated, staring at him with a complicated look on his face. Cas couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He didn’t have time to wonder, though, because Dean fisted his palm into the lapel of Cas’ trenchcoat and pulled him out of his chair, covering Cas’ mouth with his own. Cas immediately responded in kind, his hands moving to run through Dean’s hair. Dean’s tongue swiped across Cas’ bottom lip, and Cas gasped, which allowed Dean to better explore him. Dean’s hands travelled down Cas’ sides to his hips and pulled Cas closer. Cas moaned, and Dean swallowed the sound greedily. After what felt like hours, Cas forced himself to pull away and press their foreheads together, both of them breathing heavily.

Cas noticed Dean’s shoulders shaking, and he immediately realized that Dean was laughing. Cas was bewildered. “What’s so funny?”

Dean took a deep breath, trying to control himself. “So… you’re my ‘True Love’, huh? It’s like that fairytale garbage. We’ve been such idiots. All it took was me becoming a demon to figure it out.”

Cas smiled. “You’re the idiot in this relationship.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and said, “Oh, is that so?” before leaning in again, capturing Cas in another kiss that they both grinned into. Cas was overwhelmed. He never thought, in a million years, that this was how their story would come together. Cas still had a lot to learn about being in a relationship, and he knew Dean didn’t have much experience with it either. He understood now, though, that they had plenty of time to figure it out, and his best friend would be at his side through it all.

#i just started s10 and i love demon dean so this happened #deancas fic #destiel fic #deancas #destiel #first kiss #spn fic #lauren writes

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years ago

Note

idk if you are taking requests or will be comfortable with this one but can we get a tom blurb? your a new actress and you have a scene where you have to cliff dive and you accidentally drown because equipment got stock on you and tom has to do cpr?

decided to combine!

Old Friend 2

First Part

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: drowning

Masterlist

Tom left set with one thought that day:

He needed your lips on his again.

He felt weird with his sudden less than platonic feelings for you. You’d been his best friend all his life and now he was wishing you were more.

He ended up getting his wish, but not in the way he imagined.

“Wait up!” A mans voice sounded behind you as you made your way back to set.

You turned around and almost dropped the mountains of scripts you held in your hands. The man helped steady you until you got back on your feet.

“You’re Y/n, right?” He asked.

“Yes, I am. Have we met?” You asked him.

“No. I’m the stunts coordinator.” The man explained. “Kevin needs you to fill in for an extra again.”

“You said you’re a stunt coordinator? I don’t think I’m qualified to do any stunts.” You told him as you struggled to keep the scripts together.

“That’s why Kevin wanted me to get you. You don’t need any qualifications. We just need you to jump into some water.” The man said simply.

“Jump from how high?” You asked skeptically.

“Just a few feet.” He promised. “The cameras will be underwater and that’s what we need to capture. We’re gonna film the actress jumping off a platform that looks like a cliff but we need footage of you under the water. Our actress is being a little difficult about getting her hair wet today.”

“Is it safe?” You implored.

“Very safe. We’ll attach an air tank to you and you’ll be just fine.” The man smiled. You shrugged before feeling the brisk wind chilling you through your sweater.

“I don’t know about the water. It’s freezing out.” You pointed out.

“You’re gonna have a weighted wet suit on under your costume. It’ll keep you warm.” The man assured you. “Will you do it?”

“Sure.” You nodded. It was another chance to be in a marvel movie. “Why not?”

An hour later, you were getting an air tank hooked on to your back as someone zipped your costume over your wetsuit. The suit was heavy and you already felt like lying down. Tom had to film his own scene and couldn’t be there to watch you, but he gave you the biggest hug when you told him and wished you luck.

“Ready?” Kevin asked you and you gave a thumbs up.

“Action!” He called, and you jumped into the water. You twisted your body as you were told as you sank to the bottom. The underwater camera touched your foot unexpectedly, causing you to jolt. Your back hit a rock and the air tank began to make a weird sound. You opened your eyes and could just barely make out the air tank through the murky water. You reached for it in a panic as your back hit the bottom, the air tank on top of you.

Your air tank sat on your chest and held you in place. You tried to maneuver it off of you, but it was too heavy to push. The added pressure from the weighted wet suit kept you pinned to the ground with no way of getting up. You struggled, but it exhausted you. You began to feel sleepy and decided to close your while you waited for the crew to pull you up. Slowly, you closed your eyes and let yourself drift off.

Elsewhere on set, Tom had finished his scene and was constantly checking his phone for an update from you. He sat down by two interns and sent you another text.

“Yeah, I heard it was pretty bad. Like, she came up all blue and stuff.” One of the interns said, catching Tom’s ear.

“Do you think they’ll halt production?” The other one asked.

“Probably not. She wasn’t a main actress or anything. Just some extra.” The first answered.

“What are you guys talking about?” Tom snapped, causing the interns to jump.

“You didn’t hear? An extra totally drowned over on lot B.” One said and the other lightly hit his arm.

“Dude, have some respect. She could be dead.” He said.

“Drowned?” Toms mouth went dry. “You mean the girl shooting the cliff diving scene?”

“Yeah, that one. No one told you?” The intern asked.

“When did this happen?” Tom ignored him question as his palms began to sweat.

“Just now. I heard it on my headset. You didn’t know her, did you?” The kinder intern asked.

“Did you say she was blue?” Tom feared.

“That’s what I heard.” They nodded.

“Move.” Tom pushed past the interns and ran to lot B. He saw a crowd of people gathered around something and began to push his way through. Through all the shouting and people, Tom found you lying on the floor with purple lips and a pale face. He immediately got down on his knees and held two fingers to your neck until he felt your pulse; weak, but there.

“What happened?” He demanded and looked around for someone to blame.

“We don’t know. She never came up for air. We think the equipment got stuck on her.” The stunt coordinator said sheepishly. He could tell Tom was furious and he had been the one who got you to do the scene.

“How long was she under?” Tom asked as he took off his jacket and wrapped you in it.

“Three, maybe four minutes? It wasn’t long. I don’t know why she isn’t waking up.” Someone else answered.

“What’s being done to help her?” Tom said angrily. “She’s purple for Christ’s sake.”

“Alec did chest compressions and Jenna called the medic. They said they’d be here in five.” The stunt coordinator offered as he bent down next to you.

“I don’t have five minutes.” Tom shook his head and put a hand on your chest.

“Tom-“ the coordinators moved his hand.

“Move.” Tom ordered. He put the heel of his hand on the center of your rib cage and laced his hands together. He began doing chest compressions for thirty seconds. He felt your pulse again but felt no improvement.

“You should really wait for the medic.” The coordinator said weakly. Tom looked at him with a burning anger.

“And you should really make sure your extras don’t drown in your watch.” Tom snapped before turning his attention back to you.

“Next time I kiss you, you better be awake.” Tom muttered before putting his mouth over yours. He blew into it until he felt your chest rise and began doing compressions again.

“Come on, Y/n. Wake up. Show me your eyes.” Tom begged while he did another 30 seconds of compressions.

“Please, darling. Let me see your eyes.” He asked again and he began to press harder.

Finally, a cough and a sputter caused you to open your eyes. They connected with Toms and a sleepy smile dawned on your face.

“Good morning.” You said softly as relief flooded into Toms eyes. He let out a grateful laugh.

“You’re okay.” He said as he pulled you into a tight hug. The crowd began to back away to give you space.

“I thought you were only a hero in the movies?” You giggled into his ear, making him hug you tighter.

“Well my damsel was in distress.” Tom replied. He held you close to him as he walked you back to the trailer, his hand never leaving your back.

He was silent on the e way there, so you stayed silent as well. It wasn't until you were inside that he diced to speak.

“Hey, can we talk?” Tom asked in a strange voice when you got back to his trailer.

“Sure, what about?” You asked. Tom stood there awkwardly as he searched for the right words. He stuttered for a moment and tripped over his words until he finally spit it out.

“You drowned.” He said as if it were the strangest thing in the world.

“I know. I better win an Oscar for this movie.” You laughed lightly, stopping when Tom didn’t laugh as well.

“It’s not funny.” He stated.

“I’m not joking. Playing ‘Girl Number 2’ has proven to be a real challenge and I deserve some recognition for it.” You said playfully as you cleaned up Toms trailer the same way you used to clean up his room so his mom would allow him to stay out a little later.

“You could’ve died, Y/n.” Tom said gravely.

“But I didn’t.” You quipped. “No harm, no foul right?”

“How was there no harm? When I got to you, you weren’t breathing. Your face was purple and your-“ Tom stopped yelling when he saw you back away from him in fear. “-your heart was barely beating.”

“Hey, Tommy.” You brought out his childhood nickname and rested your hands on his face, making him look at you. “It’s okay. It’s beating now. Here, feel.” You rested his hand over your heartbeat and let him feel it.

“I was really worried. Like, really really worried. I’ve known you all my life. I thought, for a minute there, we were gonna be pulled apart again right as we were brought back together. Right as I started to…” he trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. I just kept thinking of the day when you told me you were moving and how hard we both cried. I remember telling my mom I’d never see my best friend again. I got that same feeling when I saw you lying there, like I was loosing my best friend and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I was really, really worried.” His eyes got glassy with tears and you decided humor would cheer him up.

“Hey, at least you didn’t wet your pants ag-“ Tom grabbed your face and kissed you firmly before you could finish your sentence.

“Woah.” You smiled shyly.

“At least you were breathing this time.” Tom said mostly to himself.

“Am I supposed to know what the means?” You raised an eyebrow, still in his embrace.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tom shook his head head with a happy smile. “I’m just happy you’re okay, old friend.”

“We’re not friends anymore, are we?” You asked coyly.

Tom smiled warmly and rested his hands on your waist.

“I guess we’re a little more.” He grinned.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @iamanerdot @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman x reader #iron man

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gaillol-13 · 4 years ago

Text

ITTHIGSS AU

Cartoon encounter.

Part 3 of this (part 2) Swear warning!

*sigh* "it just doesn't make any sense!"

I've been trying to figure out who that guy is for a while now, ever since I got home from the interview today. It just seemed like something out of a horror film, I don't understand. And they sounded so much like...no. I sat down for a moment to look at the pictures I took, and tried to recall what happened in the room with the tv (and the closet).

"Ok, so blood was coming out of the Tv," I spoke "I heard the killer walking towards me, with their arms out to grab me. They're voice sounded static-like, they were humming the Captoon's theme song. And then one of the police officers went in the room, the humming stopped, I looked in the closet but they were gone...they..."

I sighed.

"They sounded so much like Benjamin, like, identical, the only difference is the static. But, he's been dead for almost a year now, it just doesn't make any sense..."

"Beb-beeep, beb-beeeeep!!! Movement detected!!!"

What?! Theres someone trying to get in the house? I immediately check the security cameras but find no one there. The only evidence is the broken steel doors and a note, I zoomed in on it to get a closer look at what it said, I turned pale.

"Bonjournie~ Mr.Melvin :)"

That's what the note said, and the paper had the same static texture as the hammer piece I had.

The same person who killed those criminals is here, and I'm next.

"MOTHER FUCKER!!!" I screamed, "Why? Why me?! Why is this guy targeting me?! Of course, its because I know too much, I should have just kept quiet, I should have just said they committed suicide, that would have made more sense than a cannibalistic cartoon-loving prick by slaughtering them with nooses and a fucking rubber hammer!!! But noooo! I have to open my big mouth and now this fucker's gonna kill me!!! GOD DAMN IT!!!!"

I tried my best to calm down, it's not easy to think if I'm going into my dinosaur brain. Okay, everything is going to be fine, he must have a weakness, everybody has one. I have lots of inventions that could be good in the situation I'm in, I just gotta think of a plan. Think Melvin think, if I were a cannibal who loves captoon, what would be my weakness?

Hmm... I looked around my room, I spotted one a bottle of paint thinner, huh. I saw this in a game once, thinner can dissolve paint, which is what cartoon characters are made out of. I thought for a moment.

He likes the Captoon cartoon, and George and Harold made that cartoon. So if I'm gonna get this guy, (I cant believe I'm about to say this) I gotta think like George and harold.

Aww hell with it!

I grabbed the thinner bottle and loaded it in a spray gun, its ridiculous, but it's my best shot. And who knows, maybe some of the robot guards took care of him already.

*THUD!!*

"OW! @%#$!!!!"

What was that?! I mean, it was obviously a cry out in pain coming from downstairs (the living room to be exact), but AFTER it sounded like a beeping sound butchered by radio static. But that didn't matter now, the fact is that this guy is in my house, I have a plan (sort of), and I'm ready for whatever is down there.

I grabbed my flashlight and slowly made my way downstairs, he could be anywhere. I turned the lights in the hallway on, no one was there though. I looked in the kitchen, as expected, the fridge was open and most of the food in there was gone, and all of the leftover guac had vanished (THAT really caused a shiver to go down my spine). When I got close to the living room, I heard a noise, or more specifically, music.

I went in the living room to find the TV playing the Captoon theme song, huh. Guess I was right about him liking that, I grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

T h e m u s i c d i d n ' t s t o p .

Almost paralyzed with fear, I pressed the off button again, still playing, pressed it again, still going. No matter how many times I pressed it, the music kept playing. It only took me one second to realize the music was coming from behind me...along with that same feeling I had back at the abandoned school...

Oh no...

Before I could turn around, I felt something wrap around me, I looked down, I saw an arm.

Yeah, that's right, an arm was wrapping around my torso. How did I know it was an arm, at the end of it there was a gloved hand, gloved...it sorta gave me rubberhose cartoon vibes. Come to think of it, the arm was fully white like a rubberhose, I would have thought about it more I wasn't in peril.

"AAA-MMF!!!" I tried to scream, but the hand covered my mouth in an instant. The arm was fully wrapped around me now, only leaving my head uncovered.

I kicked and squirmed around trying to escape, no dice. The arm slowly turned me around, I soon realized that the arm was waaayyy longer than I previously thought. It stretched all the way to the far side of the hallway where there was nothing but darkness, nothing except...two...eyes...staring at me.

These weren't normal dot eyes, hohooohh nooo! These had the pupils and the sclera!!! And they were huge!! Who was this guy? No, scratch that. WHAT was this guy?! Forgive me for being Captain Obvious here, but there no fucking way this...thing is human!!

He was walking towards me, I squeezed my eyes shut, shit, I'm fucked. I'm going to be food, I could already see the headlines. "Class S Melvin sneedly (aka the smartest and sexiest man alive) becomes human Foie Gras to rubberhose monster". This is my end!!!

Then he (or it, I don't even know anymore) spoke.

"Shhhh, calm down."

What? Calm down?! I opened my eyes, he was still walking towards me, his eyes still the only things I could see. They looked...guilty.

"I know your scared right now." He continued

"Mmff mfm mff!!" I muffled sarcastically, it roughly translated to "NO SHIT SHERLOCK!!!", and he knew it. As he became more and more visible, I froze.

The clothes...

The body figure...

The toupee...

He was a spitting image of Benjamin, except the eyes I mentioned earlier (which now revealed that he had pie-slice pupils). And there was no color, only shades of white (his skin), grey, and black...I was filled with shock...which then shifted to seething anger.

What right does this asshole have to impersonate MY boss?! NONE!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! I kicked at him furiously while delivering muffled screeching. Who the hell does he think he is?!

"Melvin please calm down-OW!"

I bit his gloved hand, he's NOT gonna tell me what to do.

"DONT "MELVIN" ME!!" I screamed "YOU CANT JUST WALTZ IN HERE THINKING I'LL LISTEN TO YOU, ESPECIALLY AFTER WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CRIMINALS YOU VILE POMPOUS CANNIBALISTIC PRICK!!! WHO ARE YOU?! WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO EVEN BE?! WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE BENJAMIN?! AND WHATS YOU LAST MEAL REQUEST CUZ OOOOOHHH DEAR SWEET DAV PILKEY AM I GONNA REPORT YOUR ASS!!!"

He gave gave me a look that was a combination of surprise, pity, scared, and impressed.

"Gosh," I heard him mutter under his static breath "that last bit kinda rhymed..".

How is this happening, when did I become prisoner of a cartoon monstrosity. Why, how. This doesn't-...then it clicked.

"This is a dream."

"Wha?"

It's the only reasonable explanation.

"This isnt real, of course. What was I thinking."

I breathe the sigh of relief, phew.

"Why else would you look like Benjamin, it's obvious my subconscious is missing him, and the reason why your a cartoon is because I've been watching captoon too much. And why are you after me? Because it's just my subconscious being guilty of Benjamin's death, like I felt responsible, like I was supposed to be there with him when it happened. It all makes sense!!"

The behemoth rolled his eyes, but that didn't matter. What matters is that this isnt real, it's just a horrible nightmare. I dont know when I fell asleep (probably when I passed out stress-eating all those croissants at the interview), but either way I'm glad that it will be over---

"OW!!!"

I felt something sharp jab me in the arm, I looked to see his gloved hand, only a little different. The pointer finger was longer and the tip was pointy, sorta like and overgrown fingernail. Either way, it hurt, and he was still there, this wasn't a dream, it was real life.

"Real enough for ya?" All I could do was nod as I watched the finger retract and return to its proper form and shape, then I heard him sigh.

"Look, they're going to search the abandoned school so I need a place to stay-" I cut him off. "Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't call the authorities."

"Cuz they would never believe you."

I opened my mouth to protest, but then i thought for a moment. He was right, they wouldn't. There was a saying in the book Our Lord Dav, where he quoted "people can be too smart for their own good" which ment if someone was too smart, they would become insane. The police might think just that if I tell them theres a living cartoon in my house.

"Please," I looked back up at him. Seeing his sad, pleading face. "I just need to hide hear for a bit, just a lil bit. I know I'm the last guy you wanna trust right now, especially after last night. But...*sigh*... I REALLY need your help...just let me stay."

I was speechless, I was starting to doubt that this was the same person that killed those criminals. His expression seemed so...bonafide. Pupils dilated to a sorrow filled manner, lips trembling, it felt like the equivalent of looking at a sad puppy. But...how do I know I should trust him.

"Your not gonna kill me?"

"Of course not!!!" He protested, by now the arm he had wrapped around me was retracted back to him, but I really wasn't paying attention. "I'm not a monster!!!"

Not a monster? My eyes narrowed.

He then rubbed the back of his head, chuckling nervously, "I guess I am if you define a monster as a creature that defies the laws of physics and nature, heh. But I'm talking about one that's heartless, ruthless, and selfish."

His eyes then darted away and his face suddenly became sour. His tone changed completely.

"Like the @*#%$, Theodore..."

Theres only one person I know who could sound and act like that when the subject was Ted murdsly...

I threw myself at him in an embrace, eyes filled with tears...

"You are Benjamin..."

I was both in shock and joy. I couldn't believe my boss was alive...I started sobbing.

"I miss you so much..."

I felt him hug me back.

"Heh, miss ya too Mel. It's been very lonely, even with him around, it's nice to see an old friend again..."

I started crying into his shoulder, I was so relieved. For one, I now know that I'm not gonna be dinner. Two, the others will be thrilled to hear that their favorite grumpy boss is back (especially her. If you catch my drift). But I thought for a moment...

"What do you mean by "even with him around"?"

He then lead me to a chair, "sit down, and let me tell you how I'm alive."

So he told me...and dear dav is it a doozy.

So after Benjamin died, George and harold were starting the Captoon cartoons, they had the help of dressy. But in the making of the first tape reel of season 1, dressy sprinkled some dust on it, making Captoon sentient. Then the boys took it to Benjamin's gravestone, and placed it there. Then lightning struck the tape and it started to melt, along with the world in it.

In major pain, Captoon got out of the tape and into Benjamin's corpse, sort of merging with it. Another lightning struck the same spot again. And since dead people come back to life when they get zapped with electricity in cartoons, thats exactly what happened to Benjamin.

He wakes up, they meet, he tells him how he died (turns out it wasn't an accident), and Captoon gets an idea. Since he needs a physical body to stay in (cuz otherwise he would melt and die), and Benjamin needs Captoon's cartoon physiques to stay alive, they become one. Becoming Krupptoon.

It finally made sense now.

"So now you know." Krupptoon said, then grabbed a nearby glass and drunk from it. Then he noticed my mind-blown expression.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just...alot to take in. Does that mean your dead body is still in you?"

"Uh-huh, wanna see?"

Intrigued, I nodded, after what I saw last night, this wont really effect me. Then his head began to shift, the white static-like skin seemed to dissolve. Revealing a pale, bloody, and very very dead head.

The left side (his left side) of the head had the skull smashed open showing that parts of the brain were missing, and pretty much almost all of the left side (again, his left) of the head looked like it was demolished from impact.

His eye (on his right) looked lifeless, yet it had a distinct green glow, don't know why. Oh yeah, and it smelled, it smelled repulsive.

I felt the urge to puke which he immediately took notice of and grabbed a nearby bucket, then he gave it to me.

5 minutes and 43 seconds of vomiting later... I looked at him for a closer inspection.

"Hmm, it seems only the left side is affected."

He then reached into his pocket, pulled out a magnifying glass and handed it to me. I then used it.

"Your frontal lobe is severely injured, that would explain why you only move in rubberhose, your Broca's Area seems fine. Same with the Sensory area and Parietal lobe. Your Temporal lobe looks pretty damaged..."

I went quiet...

"Whats wrong?" He said that with his decayed mouth barely moving.

It took me a while to try to get the words out.

"T-thats the lobe that contains memories. Benjamin...do you remember anything?"

His face fell, "Oh,". He then put his hand on his chin, "Well, I remember you, and George and harold. Ted (though I wish I didn't), my identity, how I died...". He then plopped down on the ground, his face returning to its cartoony appearance. Trying to recall, then his eyes lit up. "I...remember Edith..."

And boy what happened next was quite a site. His hand dropped to the side, a shade of gray crept up his face, hearts started floating around him, and I swear I could hear a romantic saxophone playing. I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing.

"What?" He turned his attention to me, I simply pointed upwards at the hearts floating around. His eyes went wide and he made a noise that can only be defined as a startled dog and immediately started shooing them away with his arms, his face now flashing dark grey and white in embarrassment.

"I-ITS NOT LIKE THAT!!" He yelped in a panicked tone, but I knew otherwise.

"Oh suuuuure~!" I said playfully, "Its not like you visit her in the lunchroom every day,or that you give her extra credit, or that you try to make her food everyday!"

With every example I said, he got grayer and grayer. So I kept going.

"Or that you hide a bunch of gifts around her office, or that you're always happy when she's around 24/7, or that you secretly write about how much you want to be with her forever in your journal!"

"HOW DID YOU GET MY JOURNAL?!?!" He started shrieking and becoming a charcoal grey, sweating, and flustered mess. And it was hilarious! And it lasted a good 5 minutes.

"Joking aside, you REALLY don't remember anything else, like your job?"

"I have a job?" He cocked his head and gave me a confused look.

"Nevermind." I decided it was nothing to worry about now, so I quickly dismissed that subject. Then I heard him sigh again.

"The main reason I came here is for your help, your help to kill crime."

I was confused, "why would you need my help, you have the ability to do it on your own."

He gave me a classic Captoon smile, "Because it's like I said in the cartoons" he stood up and did the pose, "it's more fun to bring justice with friends!". He then pulled me up off the chair and put his gloved hands on my shoulders.

"You, me, George and harold, and the others can stop evil in its tracks! Sure, I could do it alone. But what the heck is living if you don't do it with your chums! Buds! Home slices! Homies! Pals! Bros! ETC!!!"

Honestly, I was very moved. I usually dont get touched, but...I haven't felt like I had friends, at all (I always felt so alone). And the fact that my boss (who's also Captoon himself) considers me as a good friend is enough to make me emotional.

"So Melvin Sneedly!!! Are you gonna join this crazy but exciting ride of adventure and mystery with me?!"

"Y-YES!!!" My voice cracked a bit, but that didn't matter now.

"ALRIGHTY!!! THEN WE'LL START TOMORROW!!! BECAUSE IM TIRED!!"

Man, he said that Captoon only moved their body, but THAT moment had to disagree. I sas honestly thrilled to start working with a superhero...but then the moment took a different direction when he gave me a smug look.

"Now what did you mean by you watching that Captoon cartoon too much?"

"Now wait just a minute-"

He then laughed and patted me on the back "ight, see ya tomorrow."

I headed towards upstairs to my room "goodnight."

I didn't know what I was getting into, but whatever it was, for once I'm ready for anything!!!

End of fic

Whooooo! That took a while, but it was worth it. Now with the introductions out of the way, I can finally make some memes!

#captain underpants #krupp #melvin #ITTHIGSS AU #writing #krupptoon #captoon

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cringe-phase · 4 years ago

Text

Sisterhood of the Travelling Deleted Scene

This is the deleted alternate beginning of....many abandoned ideas. First it was gonna be a quick one-shot to practice stuff in preparation for a multichapter project, but I decided to just start the multichapter instead. I tried to make this work for the beginning of “One Two Three (Four)”, but I was too sold on Draxum being the cause for Don’s amnesia, so I rewrote it and liked the new beginning better anyway. Then I tried to make it work for two other ideas that I quickly lost interest in for being too serious--I like my lighthearted moments too much.

Nowadays I think it's destined to be forever unfinished...but I still dig it even without a use...so, here just take it in it's abandoned and unedited glory.

Summary: The brothers stumble upon the Foot Clan and get into a fight on the rooftop when Donnie gets blindsided. Takes place early Season 1.

Disclaimer: characters use the concept of using a crutch as an insult and is not a reflection of what the author thinks.

It had all started so well.

Four brothers were on their way to their go-to pizza joint. The pizza joint was in no way their favorite, it was simply their go-to because it was owned by a Yokai and therefore they could dine in for once and enjoy an atmosphere that wasn’t a sewer. They adored their home and all, but no windows and the same view day in and day out would be a bummer to any free spirited teen. So off they went for some well-deserved pizza and socialization on the same night that the universe decided that today it was going to roll the dice.

It was Mikey that spotted the breaking and entering taking place. The little orange turtle immediately pointed it out, and much to the middle children’s displeasure, Raphael’s moral responsibility steered them to the crimes instead of the pizza. Said displeasure was expressed through groans and claims of “The police can handle it, not every little thing had to be our problem bro”, but was quickly silenced by the reveal of the perps and this week’s villain of the week.

“It’s those flame head guys again. For such a big city, we run into them a lot.” Raph pointed out, scratching his chin as they perched on the building next door.

“I think they have a stealing things obsession--”

“Kleptomania.” The purple turtle interrupted the slider.

“--they’re always breaking and entering when we find them.” Leo ignored his brother.

“I mean, that’s probably in the bad guy job description.” Michelangelo said from his seat on Raph’s shoulders.

“....D’you think they’re hiring?”

“Leo!” Raph scolded and Leonardo immediately shrugged unapologetically.

“Whaaat? It was just a little question.”

“No, you are hereby BANNED from joining the bad guys!” Raph nodded at the finality and jumped to the roof of the break-in-in-progress.

Donatello casually joined his blue banded brother’s side as Raph leapt with Mikey still on his shoulders. Leo glanced at him curiously.

“What do you think the pay’s like? Theoretically.” Donatello asked with an interested tone.

“Better than ours probably, considering we don’t get paid.” Leo crossed his arms to pout. “But Raph said we can’t. Oh well.”

“No,” Donatello smirked and looked at his brother slyly before lightly bonking him on the forehead with his tech bo, “Raph said you can’t.”

“What?! Donnie?!?!” Leo gaped as his snickering brother leapt off to join the rest of their quartet. He pouted as he jumped after him, fully intending to snitch on the purple teammate but immediately getting shushed by Raphael upon joining. “I didn’t even--”

“Shh, Leo, look!” Raph gestured to the turning of the knob of the stairway door to the roof. “Hide, now!”

The turtles had just barely all gotten into hiding spots as the door finally swung open, the hand on the doorknob connecting to a large brutish guy. The Brute held the door open for his skinny partner.

“I thought I heard something out here.” The Brute said, suspiciously looking around.

“I told you,” His Lieutenant said, “You need to get your tinnitus looked at.”

“I don’t think it was that Boss, it’s not even that bad.”

“Then you’re being paranoid.”

“I’m tellin’ you, Boss, I’m onto something! Everywhere we go those turtles show up!”

“Hey!” Although Mikey was whispering, he was doing so quite loudly. “They’re talking about us!!”

“Mikey shhh!” Leonardo slapped his hand over his younger brother’s mouth, nervously peeking back around the structure they had both hidden behind. The Foot representatives hadn’t noticed them, and Leo breathed a sigh of relief. He could see Donatello hidden smartly behind the structure with the door the bad guys had walked out of, ready to move counter to their location to remain hidden indefinitely, and Raphael was camouflaged as a gargoyle perched on the corner of the building just out of the light enough to be a vague shape. He looked to his brothers to gauge what the plan was going to be and ignored Michelangelo’s tapping on his wrist. Were they going to wait out the bad guys and follow them in like real ninjas? Were they going to ambush right here right now? Was Donnie hacking into the building right now to locate what the Foot was even here for?

All of a sudden Leo’s hand was warm and wet. “Ew!” He recoiled his hand back and looked at his little brother, betrayed.

“Hey, who’s there?!”

Leonardo hastily started wiping his hand on his brother’s head, ignoring his quiet protests and peeked out from their hiding spot and met the eyes of the Brute. He yelped and quickly hid again.

“Look! Boss it’s the turtles, I told you!” Brute exclaimed. “They’re here just like always!”

“Enough of your conspiracies, just deal with them!” The Lieutenant commanded as he started folding paper faster than an average human.

Leo swore as the Brute ran towards them and grabbed Mikey by his shell to move him out of the way while he wiped his own spit off of himself. A fist came down on their hiding spot as Leo threw Mikey out of the way and ran the opposite direction to get some distance.

“Leo! Mikey!” Raphael sprung into action as the Brute turned to pursue his blue brother. A trio of origami soldiers poofed into existence and cut him off. “We were supposed to be stealthy!”

“He licked me!” Leonardo complained as he dodged a swing and backflipped onto the roof of the doorway. “It caught me off guard!”

“Mikey!” Raph scolded as he blocked a punch and threw one of his own.

“I couldn’t breathe! He wouldn’t move his hand off of my face!” Michelangelo defended as he ran to assist his eldest brother.

“All of my brothers are evil!” Leo continued on his drama streak.

Donatello emerged from his hiding spot in the shadows and landed a surprise attack on the Brute, his tech bo in its hammer format and sent the bad guy to the ground momentarily. “Can we save the family bickering until after we are no longer in combat?!”

“Why do you say that like this is a game?” The Brute asked from the ground, curious. “This is real life, kid, we could really hurt you.”

“Roll for initiative!!” Donnie yelled as a battle cry, using his bo to vault himself over the Brute and toward the Lieutenant, smacking into a hastily made Origami soldier instead while Raph hurried to cover him.

Combat was successfully initiated. Origami soldiers were created and fists continued to fly. (Do better transition)

“As much as I love the impromptu field test of my new tech bo addition,” Donatello swung his bo with a manic grin, the chainsaw application tearing apart the paper soldiers like they were butter, “We’re going to be here all night if we don’t focus on the source!”

“Oh yeah,” Michelangelo thoughtfully added, “Like the spawners in Minecraft! They’re just gonna keep coming forever.”

“I mean, we actually have a decent handle on this. Plus I’m kinda having fun shredding these bozos!” Leonardo had taken the opportunity to practice some more extravagant swings and flourishes. Since upgrading to a single sword he’s been curious about pulling off one of those fancy spin-attacks he’s seen on some fighting games.

“Yeah I’m down with downing more of these paper pawns!” Mikey agreed, eyes alight as he set some origami soldiers ablaze with his mystical kusari-fundo.

“Ok so we got two for having fun with these jerks for once, how about--”

“Raph would like to hurry and be done here!” Raphael yelled from his side of the battlefield, punching a stray origami soldier as he dodged another punch from the Brute.

“You didn’t have to crash our outings, y’know.” The Brute mumbled.

Donatello sighed as he shredded another group of paper soldiers into confetti before activating his battle shell to initiate hover mode. He flew above the field, his younger brothers immediately picking up his slack and cutting through his share of soldiers, and zeroed in on the Lieutenant frantically making origami man after origami man like a well-oiled machine. Honestly, the speed in which he pumped those out was admirable. But, Donatello wanted pizza and he was bored shredding the same kind of enemy multiple times a minute.

Spinning his tech bo back into its bo format, Donatello dove towards the Origami-spawner and swung, narrowly missing as the Lieutenant jumped out of the way. The jets of the Battle Shell whirred as he hovered back into the air, glaring down at the man with a cocky grin. A better challenge than the Origami Soldiers, which the flame-headed human kept folding and throwing into the battle as he dodged Donnie’s dives.

Donatello swung again and the Lieutenant ducked and blew a raspberry, much to Donnie’s annoyance. He could feel his eye’s want to twitch but honed his willpower to keep it at bay, honing in on taking this disrespectful villain down.

His tunnel vision left him blindsided by the paper hand that grabbed his ankle and slammed him back to the ground, another immediately jumping into his shell jet pack to sabotage any attempts to flee to the skies. He glared up at the human puppeteer, grin replaced by a frustrated frown.

“Not so tough without your little gadget, are you?” The Lieutenant rasped, now the one with the cocky grin. He circled the turtle, examining the spluttering jets shredding the fingers of the paper soldiers holding it down. “Why does a turtle need a fake shell anyway? Is it like a crutch?”

The “crutch” in question immediately sprang free from the purple turtle’s back, sending it and the paper man attached to it directly into the Lieutenant. Donatello immediately swung his bo to swat his legs free of soldiers and jumped to his feet. His glare upon the man sharpened.

“I don’t need a crutch.” He growled, softshell open to the evening breeze. It wasn't a sensation he was used to, but capable of ignoring nonetheless. He raised a judgmental eyebrow at the twitch of the Lieutenant's hands on paper. "Do you?"

The Flame Head immediately halted his folding and narrowed his otherworldly eyes at the teen. He knew he was being baited--he did the same thing to the kid--but he couldn't back down lest his honor and ego take a hit.

Lou Jitsu would meet the challenge head on.

The Foot Lieutenant tossed his paper to the side and took a defensive pose.

#tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #fanfic #My writing #there the shakles are unbound go be free my child #cringe compilation

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moonlightsolo · 5 years ago

Text

bête noire

summary: After Kylo Ren and Rey defeat Snoke together, the Resistance retreated to a rebel outpost on a planet named, Crait. The First Order is close behind equipped with a cannon ready to blow open the entrance. Once the Resistance escapes, they find a survivor and they capture them for interrogation.

pairing: kylo ren x female reader

warnings: blood, war, major tlj spoilers, flashback!!

wc: 3.1k

note: this chapter goes along with chapter seven so u might wanna touch up on that one hope u like this different type of chapter :)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“Thirteen incoming light craft. Shall we hold until we clear them?” General Hux asks, turning around to talk to the Supreme Leader who is standing behind him.

“No. The Resistance is in that mine. Push through.” His onyx eyes focus as he stares out the shuttle's viewport.

He watches the fight begin as the tie fighters swoop down from the sky and pick off some of the rickety speeders. The AT-AT walkers push forward against the ground forces, targeting the trenches outside the base. The Resistance speeders start to separate from each other and branch off.

The cannon is aiming at the large vault that leads to the Resistance. Kylo takes notice of one of the speeders that got clipped by a blast and how it kicked up the red dirt as it tumbles across the surface.

The Millenium Falcon appears unexpectedly and drops in to take the attention off of the speeders. Tie fighters are being blown up left and right.

Anger grows in Kylo Ren’s chest as he stands up swiftly and points at the ship, “Blow that piece of junk... out of the sky!” He screams, veins popping out on his forehead.

Hux is taken aback by his voice, “All fighters!” He orders. Kylo breathes heavily, his nostrils flared as he paces the walls of the ship. He continues to pick his head up to watch the battle.

All the fighters begin to follow the Millenium Falcon, drawing them off of the speeders. The cannon lets down arms that anchor it into the ground as it begins to open.

“All firepower on those speeders,” Kylo ordered his body leaning between the pilots seats. “Concentrate all fire on the speeders!” Hux retaliates which causes Kylo to shoot him an incredulous glance. The rest of the speeders withdraw while one is targeting the mouth of the cannon. Alas, their suicidal plan is interrupted by another speeder crashing into it to stop it.

The cannon blows open the vault-like an egg, fire surrounds the area and kicks up the white surface to reveal the deep red color of the planet. The AT-AT walkers continue stomping as they push forward, Kylo doesn’t take his steady glare as he focuses on the entrance to the cave.

A cloaked man emerges from the flames, it’s him. “Stop!” He says sharply, the First Order barrage halts in its tracks.

Kylo moves forward from his spot, “I want every gun we have to fire on that man.” His voice is icy and calm, too calm. The pilots and Hux look at him like he’s insane, but he pays no mind to them. “Do it.”

The walkers begin to shoot at Luke Skywalker, kicking up the red salt as they continue to blast him repeatedly. “More!” Kylo clenches his fist and one of the pilots takes notice. “More!” He screams, his voice breaking slightly.

Hux moves towards Kylo Ren, his hands are clasped behind his back. “That’s enough...” He whispers to him but Ren ignores him as he stares at the cloud of red smoke.

“That’s enough!!” Hux screams the order at the Officers now, his voice raspy.

Kylo falls back into his seat, taking deep shaky breaths as his lips tremble. “Do you think you got him?” Hux scowls at him, “Now if we’re ready to get moving, we can finish this.”

“Sir?” One of the Officers speaks as the smoke begins to clear. Kylo Ren stands and moves closer to the glass window.

He couldn’t believe it.

Luke begins to step out of the red haze, moving towards the fleet then he stops. He glares up at the ship, facing Ren. He moves his hand up to mockingly brush his shoulder off.

Kylo is seething now as he trembles with anger, “Bring me down to him.” He orders, “Keep the door covered and don’t advance until I say.” He doesn’t take his dark eyes off of his former master.

Hux turns around, “Supreme Leader don’t get distracted, our goal-.” His voice is cut short as Kylo throws him aside with the Force. His yelp could be heard by the Officers, “Right away, sir.” One of them says as they lower the ship.

Kylo walks down the ramp of the ship, his boots crunch underneath the debris. His black cape billows out behind him, “Did you come back to say you forgive me? To save my soul?” He sarcastically asks.

“No.” Luke simply says to him then Ren’s black cape falls to the ground. He gets into a fighting stance as he ignites his lightsaber; Luke does the same.

Kylo twists his angry red blade in the air before he pounces forward and swings it at Luke. The older man ducks and dodges it completely. They stare each other down again then Kylo charges.

He swings his saber at Luke who bends backward, the blade is so close to his face. “I failed you, Ben. I’m sorry.” Luke sympathizes with his nephew.

“I’m sure you are!” Kylo bites back, “The Resistance is dead. The war is over, and when I kill you. I will have killed the last Jedi.” He spits out at Luke.

“Amazing. Every word of what you just said... was wrong.” Luke calmly speaks to the furious man, “The Rebellion is reborn today. The war is just beginning. And I will not be the last Jedi.”

Kylo gulps as he glares at Skywalker, “I'll destroy her, and you, and all of it.” He growls.

Luke’s lightsaber diminishes as he stands in front of Kylo completely vulnerable. “No. Strike me down in anger and I'll always be with you. Just like your father.” Kylo shifts forward slightly, evidently bothered by his words.

He tightens his grip on his lightsaber hilt before sprinting towards Luke. He brings the red blade behind his shoulder then slices through Luke’s middle, it goes right through him. He slides to a stop then turns around as Luke faces him.

The look of surprise crosses the conflicted man's face when he sees Luke still standing in one piece.

Kylo points the tip of the saber at Luke’s chest and walks forward, watching how it goes through his body without harming him. His jaw clenches as he realizes Luke is just a manifestation through the Force, “No...” He breathes out defeatedly.

“See ya around, kid.” Luke’s body fades into nothing before his eyes. Then he realizes it was all a ploy for the Resistance to escape, “No!” He screams, his whole body is shaking with anger.

Hux begins to exit the ship, ordering his troops to search the area. Kylo picks up his cape and fastens back to his shoulders, beginning to walk to the entrance of the base with the troops in tow. “There will be no survivors. Kill anyone that’s left.” He orders them.

Hux is upset with Ren’s actions because he let the Resistance escape. His past haunts him too much, it distracts him.

The white-armored troopers flood the base as Kylo Ren enters the control room that’s guarded by two troops. General Hux stands outside as he watches him crouch down and pick something up off the concrete floor.

Kylo feels Rey’s presence in the Force as he looks up and sees her, they hold eye contact for a moment before the connection is severed when she leaves.

The golden dice in his hand disappears just like Luke did. His fists clench where it once laid in his palm as he holds back his feelings. His thoughts are interrupted by the monotone voice of a trooper, “Sir, we’ve found a survivor.”

He instantly stands up, “Bring me to them.” The trooper nods and brings to lead him to another room. He stands at the doorway as he watches the General interact with the girl. A trail of blood leads up to the metal cot where she is laying in a pool of the red liquid.

“Execute her.” The General's voice says nonchalantly as one of the men next to him aims a blaster at her head. He watches her, taking notice of how her eyes close and she calmly accepts her fate.

A rush of panic emerges in his chest, “Wait.” Kylo Ren speaks out as he walks forward. Hux turns around with an annoyed look on his pale face. “Supreme Leader. I am just following your orders. You said that there will be no survivors.” Hux informs him but Kylo just puts his hand up to silence him.

“Forget what I said, Hux. They may have information on the whereabouts of the Resistance.” He steps forward into her line of view.

The injured girl's eyes open, making eye contact with him. All he sees is fear in her glassy eyes. She realizes who he is. She knows his backstory and what he’s done.

“Excuse me, Supreme Leader. She is badly injured. She will barely make it to our ship.” Hux huffs.

Kylo’s jaw clenches in anger, “Get our medics then. Bring her to my ship at once.” He barks out at the troopers who scurry away to follow his orders.

Hux’s mouth drops, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. He goes to say something but Kylo’s hand reaches out towards the girl's face and she falls limp. “Go find out what’s taking so long,” Kylo grumbles at Hux.

The General turns on his heel to leave the room but he hides behind the doorway to watch Ren’s next actions.

His gloved hand hovers over the large laceration on her thigh, his eyes close as he focuses. He transfers his power into her and the bleeding stops almost instantly; The size of the cut has shrunk considerably.

Hux couldn’t believe his own eyes, he just watched him save the enemy. Fury runs through his veins as he storms away to find the troopers.

Kylo sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes reopen, he watches some color rush back to her pale cheeks. During this process, he saw her memories. It started when she was a child and continued until where she is now, practically on her death bed. He felt all of her emotions. When her parents left her to die in the village on Jakku, when she met Rey and eventually the Resistance. He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts.

One of his arms hooks behind her knees and the other supports her back. He easily holds her weight as he walks out into the main part of the facility, meeting the medics halfway.

“Take her to my ship. You can work on her injuries there.” He hesitatingly hands her limp body over to them.

Something wanted him to hold on, to not let them take her and for him to care for her himself. He knew he couldn’t though. He could feel the General's eyes burning into his skin.

The Supreme Leader follows close behind the medics as they wheel her to his ship, some work on her as they were moving. He hopes she can’t feel the pain from them digging in her fresh wounds.

As they walk up the ramp, Hux interrupts him. “Excuse me, sir. But what about the Resistance? Shouldn’t we go after them?” Hux clasps his hands behind his own back.

“No. The girl will have answers. We’ll start to search the galaxy for them. No planet will be left untouched by the First Order.” He snarls before turning on his heel to head up to the cockpit to prepare for takeoff.

Once the ship lands in the hangar, the medics are already ready to get her to the medical ward as quickly as possible.

Kylo watches as they wheel her away, his facial expressions blank. Something in his chest aches as she disappears around the corner. He feels connected to her somehow and he doesn’t like this feeling. He felt it with Rey and he was let down by her choice to hold onto the light.

Hux comes up behind Ren, standing next to him as they both watch the busy hangar. “When she awakes, you’re going to question her. I have other matters to attend to.” Ren’s deep voice speaks emotionlessly then he walks away.

He retreats to his quarters, walking up to his grandfather's smashed helmet. He takes off one of his gloves, his fingertips graze over the surface as he takes a deep breath. “I need guidance. I let the Resistance fall right through my fingers. I’m not sure if this girl I recovered will have answers for me.” He sighs and shakes his head.

He pulls away from the helmet and begins to walk away so he could gather his composure and attend the meeting he has planned.

When Kylo Ren walks into the conference room, he notices General Hux isn’t there with the rest of the high-ranked officials. He continues on with his meeting, some people give their opinions and they come up with a plan to send fleets of troopers out to planets to scout for the Resistance all over the galaxy.

As he goes to exit the room, Hux walks in. “May I talk to you in private?” He whispers through his teeth. Kylo could see fresh fingernail scratches on his pale cheek, it almost made him chuckle.

Kylo gave him a curt nod, “Follow me.” He begins to walk out of the room, making his way towards the medical ward with Hux and two troopers following. “I tried to get the girl to talk but she attacked me. They sedated her. I’m not sure when she will be awake for you to take over.” Kylo just put his hand up to dismiss him, the smaller man just stopped in his tracks in the middle of the hallway. Kylo hears him groan in annoyance.

The people walking down the hallway move out of Kylo’s way. His cape floats behind him as his long legs move swiftly through the long corridors until he made it to the medical ward.

Everyone’s eyes turned towards him as the mechanical door hisses open. He looks around for the girl but he doesn’t see anybody except nurses and doctors.

One of the staff members sees him standing there with the two troopers, she slowly walks up to him— obviously nervous. “Hello, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?” She asks. He looks down at the nurse and reads her name tag, “Yes. Bring me to the prisoner.”

The nurse's eyes widen as something clicks in her mind, “Yes, sir. Right, this way.” She turns around and leads him to the door. She opens it and the bed is empty, he can’t see where the girl is.

“There is someone here to visit.” The nurse's voice is shaky, she takes a step to the side to let Ren pass through. The troopers stand on both sides of the door to guard it.

The girl looks over him, her eyes travel from his feet up to his emotionless face. His eyes take in the scene in front of him. the droid is patching up her leg and her hospital gown is hiked up high on her thigh.

She notices him looking at her bandage and she pulls the gown back down. They both stay silent as the droid finishes its job working on her wrist, “Give us a moment, droid.” Kylo orders it then it floats out of the room.

The girl doesn’t pick her head up or try to make eye contact with him, it frustrates him because he can’t read her. He takes a few large steps towards her, his tall stature towers over her in the chair she’s sitting in. He can feel her uneasiness by how her fingers are playing with the hem of the gown she’s wearing, she still won’t pick up her head.

“You know why I’m here.” He tries to keep his voice gentle but still stern. He doesn’t want to frighten the girl even more. Her eyes slowly move to look at him through the locks of her hair hanging in her vision.

She picks her head up fully before she talks, “You’re here because General Hux couldn’t get anything out of me? Is that right? He sent you to do his dirty work?” She bit back, her voice was strong compared to her demeanor.

He took a step back as she got up out of her chair and wobbled on one leg to her bed, “I applaud you for standing up to General Hux.” His voice has humor in it.

The girl's eyes look up and squinted at him as she tries to figure him out, “Why thank you..” She grumbles. Her attitude makes him want to smirk.

“The Resistance. You have to know where they are going next.” He directly asks her, moving closer to her body. “Just like I told your precious General. If I did know, I would never tell you where they went.” She snaps, looking at him with fiery eyes.

Kylo takes a chance by moving even closer, “You know, I can take whatever I want.” His voice is raspy as his eyes take over her face, taking notice to the little bit of collarbone that’s peeking out from the oversized gown. The hair on her body stands up as she gets goosebumps, it’s obvious she’s bothered by him being so close.

If she won’t talk, he’ll make her. His fist tightens as he begins to go through her memories again, “This will only hurt a little.” He can tell she’s in pain now by how she cries out and falls back onto the bed fully now. Tears are freely running down her cheeks but he barely notices.

This time he goes through every little detail, he feels how she’s pained by the Resistance leaving her to die, her own parents left her to die amongst her village, how afraid she is of him...

“The Resistance left you, your parents left you... The First Order destroyed your village on Jakku. Everyone, last one of them was murdered. You’re afraid of the First Order. So lonely. So weak. You felt that Leia Organa is like the mother who wouldn’t run away... But everyone left you. You’re alone.” He shakes his head as he sighs in pity.

The girl is still crying, her hands are tugging at fistfuls of her own hair. “Stop! Get out of my head!” She screeches. The bridge between their minds strengthened and Kylo stumbles back in shock. Did she push him out of her mind?

“You...” He breathed out. He couldn’t hide his emotions. He knows she’s Force-sensitive.

Her wet eyes open to stare at him in shock but he turns around so she couldn’t see him in this weakened state. He took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts before exiting the room, leaving her alone again.

He knows she has potential with the First Order. It will be easy to turn her. She has nowhere else to go. Nobody sees the untapped potential in her except him.

@officiallpeterparker @funnysadshit @ymariejp @attorneyl @fangirl570 @trinityrud20 @kylos-sassy-cousin @delicatelyherdreams @fizzywoohoo @savvy7392 @angelias134 @that-girl-named-alex @cas-backwards-tie @glimmering-darling-dolly @glitterypinkkitty @blxkstar @his-snow-white-queen @elsasshole @smiithys @nanocoool @deathbyarabbit @alex-skr @theholycakehole @averillian @crazynocturnalkiki @arcanebabe @tinydancer40 @superduckypower @thomasscresswell @butterfly-writes @thatintrovertedbisexual @fangirlanotherjust @somekindofroger @nicci442 @little-girl-who-dream-too-much @wildest-dream- @silverlambcaptain

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pernatius · 4 years ago

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Lost in Space Part 11: Ch 4

Summary: Finally, on Commander Knox’s spaceship, the trio finds themselves running out of time before the commander becomes an all too powerful Watcher.

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My sword is on its side, far from my reach, but I can’t feel my fingers. I don’t feel anything. Friend turned foe is lifting me by my collar. With how tightly he’s gripping it, the thread is starting to come loose. It won’t be too long until I drop back onto the floor and fall asleep for good, forever dreaming of my defeat. We have less than two minutes until that happens. My jaw is smashed. It’ll heal, but by the time it does, it’ll be too late. I still force out my sorrows even though it slurs out as indistinguishable sounds.

S1Y transforms his other arm into a blaster. The outer metal on his arm slides back and floats around the internal hardware, pushing forward. He points it at me. My face heats up as it charges inches from my crooked nose. My hair flutters backward as it comes closer to finishing. Before I close my eyes and let my failure consume me, I note that even though the shadow from the vein above us masks his face, the goo’s glow lights up the bottom of his eyes. The purple sludge is slowly sliding down his face. Because of it, he looks to be crying. “Please, forgive me, my dear friend.”

I tried to let out, “Forgive me, Ashley, for leaving you as I did.” It came out as a grumble.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but S1Y’s blaster never goes off. Hesitantly opening my eyes, I see his wrists are being held above his head by my still lifeless Ashley. As he’s staring up at me in disbelief, he tries wiggling himself loose and begs for answers. She stays silent, not even piping up as he smashes the back of his head against her forehead, which has it bruised soon after.

I’m floating above them. I see that my hands, which I can now feel as I clench and unclench them, have a golden glow around them. No, my whole body is glowing. I’ve seen this sort of light before, but I don’t have the time to question it, and I especially don’t have the time to get hurt for what I’m about to do.

Reaching my hand out, my sword becomes engulfed in the same glow around me. It spins in the air towards me, flying past the two, nearly cutting off one of S1Y’s hands, and I grab it with one hand before I float back down. S1Y makes another attempt at pulling himself free, but this time, he’s successful. He rips out one of Ashley’s arms from its socket. Eyes widening, I watch it fly past me, its blood sprays across the left side of my face, and it then twitches on a vein in the corner of my eye. Her only hand lets go of him and clutch the stump as she stumbles away from him and eventually goes on her knees with gritting teeth and tears falling down her cheeks. She doesn’t cry out, but I could only imagine the pain, and I think this is the angriest I’ve ever been. Whatever guilt I would’ve felt dies down along with my senses. My body moved on its own as the cause of my love’s pain shoots at me with two blasters. While those lights seemed to slow and blur, I didn’t even see my body moving. I didn’t even notice I’m in front of S1Y and preparing to decapitate him until I heard his voice in my head. “Thank you.”

He moves his arms to the sides, almost as if he’s giving the entire universe a hug, and closes his eyes. It’s been too long since I’ve seen that smile that I thought was lost forever, but I don’t relent.

I catch his head and his actual lifeless husk before both can hit the floor. I look down at his smile one last time before setting his halves gently down and moving to Ashely. What’s left of her right arm is leaking out too much blood. It’s all over her left hand and right leg. Through squinting eyes, she looks up at me. She smiles, and my heart skips a beat. I bury down all the things I’ve been waiting weeks to tell her, especially my sorrow for running away from her rather than talking it out because we’re running out of time.

Two glowing hands leaned towards her armless half. Without hesitation, she removes her hand from the wound so that my hands can clasp it. I infuse some of my new power into it. She squirms as the armless sight heats up. Her blood has stopped pouring out of her as I have her right arm fly towards us. I catch it and press it against the now glowing site.

As bone and skin stitch back together before our eyes, she touches the side of my face and wipes away her blood from my cheek. I so desperately want to press my lips against hers. I’m about to as we lean towards each other. I can feel her body heat, which increased my hunger to taste that cherry chapstick. We’re about to kiss, but she stammers out, “Help Saamuki.” I step back and see her clutching the sides of her head, pulling at her hair. Her nails draw blood. “Knox is trying to regain control. Help me by helping her.”

No matter how much it dreads me, she’s right. We have a minute left. With teary eyes, I remind her, “Until death do us part.”

Her eyes widen, and before she can respond, I snap my fingers. She’s teleported out of the ship along with Mikrovos, Khavas, and the bodies of Shiitakee, Skeema, and S1Y.

Across Saamuki’s no longer glowing body are Knox’s blades. She’s been lifted in the air and is locked in place. Before he can ask, I punch him in the face. The swords slide off of her body, and I catch her. Her body returns to its blue state, and she smiles at me with a weak expression as those bloody holes close. I set her down and order, “Get as far away from this planet as you can.”

Saamuki, who’s now revitalized, gets up, reaches out to me, and asks with wide eyes, “No, wait—”

She’s teleported out of here before she could finish. Now it’s just me in this wretched state and the actual Devil himself. He spits out a tooth as he mocks me, “A little late to show off don’t you think?” He turns to the timer and smirks at me when he notices I’ve gripped my sword even tighter. “Don’t you get it? You’ve lost. How can you possibly stop what’s meant to be in under a minute?”

I swing my sword with one hand to the side to send a blinding golden beam of light at the crystal with the other hand. It’s beginning to crack and between the cracks is purple lightning firing across the room. One zaps between us, but neither of us flinches. “That. We have under a minute until we both die.”

He shuts his eyes, and he shows his purpling gums. His teeth grind against each other as his body shakes with rage. His fists go above his head then thrust at his sides. Knox growls and whatever was left of his humanity leaves as long claws are pushed out of his fake fingertips and toes, as well as horns and three sets of wings. Where flesh was has been turned into an exoskeleton. His fur turns into quills, and fangs grow with the horns shoved out of his head’s sides, which touch his shoulders and curve. Two purple rings of light appear and spin around each other and his body. Opening his eyes, purple goo flows out of them. Still, I don’t flinch as he shows me what happens when you slice and dice your DNA. “Before I kill you I’d like to congratulate you for being the first one to witness my true form.” His voice has gotten a lot deeper, almost demonic, fitting. That symbol used for the Lords appears above his forehead, but there’s a line going straight through it. “Thirty eight seconds to entertain me. Make me see that you have gone even uglier, worth my while.”

He smirks. More purple goo gushes out from his mouth, and it fizzes at the corners of his lips. One moment he’s staring down at me as he’s shooting quills, which I slice through all, and the next, he’s diving towards me. My sword connects with his claws, cutting through them. I was about to mock him, but his claws regrow, and I swerve away, but the claws I cut extend towards me. I’m able to fly up, escape all but one, which penetrates my neck. I pull it out, but once I do, I find Knox has joined me in the air and smashes his wings together. They propel me away and cause me to lose control. I try fighting against the wind current to the best of my abilities, but I end up smashing against the crystal, which electrocuted me. I drop both the quill and my sword.

Knox comes at me, and I pull my sword from its fall, and it reconnects with my hand just in time. I swing it at him, but he teleports to the left, pulls me by my hair, spins me around, and then throws me into the floor. I fall through the floor, room after room, and when the smoke clears, I see I’m back in the storage room and sent in a panic because of it.

The room is warmer but is darker than I remember. The crystal above only outlines a few crates, so my glow is my only source of light. It’s surprisingly quiet in here until I hear Knox’s laugh echoing. I wave my hand across the room and see nothing, so I’m met with surprise when I find Knox appear in front of me and ready to punch me. My sword was supposed to go through him, but his body crystalized. So, his fist collides with me, and I am sent flying once again. I land in a crate and am covered in something slimy. There is no sign of any of those things, but a massive shadow now looms over me. Knox is descending onto me with his feet first. I teleport away, and he smashes the rest of the crate.

On a railing, I look down as he looks around the room for me. When his eyes spot the hole Saamuki cut, he realizes, “Ah, you’ve got to see my experiments. A shame their pitiful lives were wasted because now I can’t become what I was always destined to be because of you.” He spots me, and I dash towards him, breaking through the guardrail in the process. The rings around him send beams of purple light at me. I evade them all. “One second,” he added,

The last thing I see before the explosion is my sword, which its blade has turned into pure light, going right through Knox’s chest and one of his horns going right through my chest. Then, boom.

“Take my hand,” a familiar voice called out to me. Ojos?

People say when you die, you see the light. I did, but it’s not the type they always talk about. I don’t see dead loved ones, hear a harp playing or doves coo. Maybe being burned in the afterlife makes more sense for me, but I don’t think I did die even though I’m standing in a white room before seven almighty beings. The Lords of the universe are sitting in their thrones staring down at me. The Lord I talked with at their library has their head leaning into their propped hand at the very end of the left side. On the far right side is the one I met in my unconscious state, but now they have chains wrapped around the lower part of their face, covering their mouth. The center is a Lord who has their legs spread apart and left arm behind the headrest and the right across their right leg. There’s a cigarette pressed between their ring and middle finger. Somehow smoke blows out in front of their mask where their lips are supposed to be.

Sword reforming in my hand, I’m about to lunge at them, but the center one snaps their fingers. My crown is teleported in their hand. I’m weaponless, yet I bravely inquire, “What am I doing here?”

To the right of the center one, a Lord that’s the bulkiest out of all of them grips their armrests, cracking it; the action causes their muscles to stretch their cloak even more, and they shout, “First, you dare to strike us. Now you’re commanding us?” This Lord’s voice is almost entirely masculine.

Between them and the Librarian Lord is a Lord hunched forward. They look to be the tallest and longest. This Lord softly replies, “You’re a Lord. No need to waste your energy shouting, especially when it means hurting my ear.” They proceed to rub where their left ear should be.

“Clearly, this human isn’t as perceptive as you.”

On the center one’s left is a porky Lord. From what I can tell, this one is the shortest. They respond, “It’s been centuries since you complimented them. Correction, any of us.”

Right of the one that tried taking my soul, who’s the only one that has a gold, faceless mask coos before asking, “If Second wishes to compliment them, let it be, but if they do then they should give me the rest of the compliments.”

Fourth, the first Lord I met sighs, “One, can we just answer her question already? I am growing tiresome hearing you idiots bicker. No, I have been tired from having to deal with all of your constant blabbering for centuries.”

Besides the silent Seven and One, the Lords were about to go off on Fourth until One silences them with their hand raised. The center Lord flicks their cigarette. It hits Two, which is met with a grumble from them and a snicker from Three. One gets up from their throne and stands straight with their arms behind their back before revealing, “Welcome home, my daughter.”

#232 #lost in space #my writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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jenoptimist · 5 years ago

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pocket-sized!sicheng

There was something to be said about Yongqin’s tardiness when neither you or Kun are surprised when he didn’t show up at the time that the two of you secretly agreed between each other to tell him. In true Yongqin fashion, he was late at the later time that he was given. As you and Kun flipped through the menu for the nth time, you traded plausible reasons as to why your friend was late. The last time he was late it was because he got distracted by Yukhei’s challenge to see who could stuff more jelly beans in their mouths, and the time before that, he claimed that he was helping Kunhang and Yangyang figure out whether or not the pavement was hot enough to fry an egg–their hypothesis was a bust and they ran away from the scene of the crime, leaving the raw egg behind until Kun berated them and made the three of them clean it up under his supervision.

Just as the waitress was about to approach your table for the fourth time, Yongqin finally made an appearance. As he beelined towards your table in a hurry, you shot an apologetic smile at your waitress as she suppressed a laugh, already accustomed to you and your group of friends, and nodded at you cordially. You would definitely be tipping her more than you usually did, she was always one of your favorite member of staff.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Yongqin said breathlessly as he plopped down onto his seat, placing his tote bag on the ear of the chair rather than on the floor. “I was actually going to be early this time!” He declared. At the deadpan expression that you shared with Kun, he added, “but I helped an old lady cross the street and then she started having a conversation with me.”

It was certainly unsurprising that that was the reason why he was late. Dejun must have instilled even more compassion towards the elderly in him as he did with the rest of you by volunteering your group at nursing homes and the like. Once you gave your orders and have settled in, the three of you talked about university and the upcoming movies that you wanted to watch the next time all seven of you went out together.

“Oh! Actually,” Yongqin spoke after a small pause, mouth full of pad thai, “that old lady from this morning gave me something.”

“Don’t speak when your mouth is full, you could choke or something.” Kun chided as the other man roughly patted at his pockets, grumbling to himself as he searched for whatever it was that she had given him.

“Sorry dad,” he replied sarcastically, coaxing a chuckle from you and a playful shove from Kun that was successfully dodged. “Ah ha!” He exclaimed, thrusting his left hand in front of you to show off a large white bean. “Tadah!”

You shared a look with Kun before returning your incredulous stare at Yongqin, who was still smiling excitedly. “She,” you paused for extra emphasis at your disbelief, “gave you a bean?”

“It’s not just ‘a bean’!” He huffed defensively, throwing you a mock glare.

“Uh huh,” Kun hummed, “what it then?” He challenged before taking a large sip of his water. You leaned back so that your shoulder blades were touching the back of your seat as you folded your arms across your chest, staring at Yongqin expectantly. He mumbled something incoherent that made both you and Kun lean towards him in hopes of hearing him better, but to no avail. “What did you say?” Kun asked, face pinched in confusion.

“It’s a”–Yongqin’s eyes swung back and forth between the two of you as he licked his lips–“magic bean.” Fortunately you weren’t drinking your soda because you surely would have choked on it, or did spit-take like in that one episode of iCarly, because the minute the words left his mouth, you keeled into yourself as you exploded into fits of laughter. Kun was quick to join you, unsuccessfully stifling his laugh behind his hand. “Guys,” the blond man whined, “it’s not funny!”

When your howls of laughter died down into small giggles you said, “so wait, is this going to be like Jack and the Beanstalk? Are you going to, like, steal golden eggs and sell them for tons of money?” Your statement had Kun slapping a hand on his thigh, practically crying as he continued laughing.

“Uh, no?” The fact that his reply sounded like a question made you want to laugh all over again. “Okay you know what?” Yongqin asked, clearly sounding like he had enough of the two of you, “if you think it isn’t magic then why don’t you grow it?” Never one to back down from a challenge, you agreed. “Awesome! The lady said it’ll bring luck which is good ‘cause you’ll need it to get your degree.”

You squawked in return, knowing that you were unable to come up with a witty comeback since you knew that the road to becoming an engineer was a tough one.

From there, the three of you obliterated your meals, paid and left in search of a thing of compost and a plain pot, which you made Yongqin promise he would decorate before you planted the bean, from a nearby garden centre.

You planted it that same evening, rearranging the items on your desk that stood against the window so that you could position the small pot in an area with optimum sunlight–a difficult feat since it was nearing November.

Unlike in Jack and the Beanstalk, you didn’t wake up to a thick, massive beanstalk that punched it’s way through your ceiling and into the sky. What you did wake up to was a cute little sprout that had you snapping a picture to send into your groupchat so that you could coo over it to your friends.

The whole situation had to be a dream. In fact, you were ninety-nine percent sure that you were still asleep. It was entirely impossible that your plant, which at that point had grown tall with a bud the size of a pistachio on top, had disappeared and left a tiny person in its wake. The little guy was still asleep, curled in on himself and blissfully unaware of the thoughts racing in your mind. There were numerous questions that you wanted to ask, the main ones being: if you weren’t dreaming, how was any of this real? Was the bean that Yongqin was given magical after all? And, also, how was he fully clothed? However the big block that prevented you from believing that the situation was a reality, was that it just wasn’t possible scientifically.

Your internal freak-out came to a screeching halt when he began to move slowly, eyes blinking away sleep as he stood up and stretched. Unsure of what to do, you continued to stare at him in disbelief as he scanned the room. When his gaze landed on you, a staring contest ensued. Neither of you looked away and you refused to melt at how cute he was with his tousled black hair and doe-like dark brown eyes.

“Uh,” what were you supposed to say when a tiny person took over your plant? “Hi,” you welcomed, hoping that your smile wasn’t as awkward as your voice. “My name’s y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

The boy’s (or was a he man? how did tiny people age?) expression went from blank to wary. It was clear that he was fully awake at that point, hunching in on himself as he remained mute. Evidently, he lacked trust in you–if the way he frantically scrambled backward at the step that you took toward him was any indication.

Frowning, you decided to leave the room. You made your way to the kitchen and headed directly towards the fridge. Some sort of peace offering needed to be made. You needed to show that you meant no harm and what better way to do that then to feed him? The state of your fridge was sad but you grabbed the box of strawberries and diced them into tiny pieces.

“I brought you some food.” You announced gently when you stepped back inside your room. You waited patiently as he eyed you for a few moments before slowly making his way down the pot, jumping down your stack of textbooks before sitting by your laptop. “Um, I just cut up some strawberries since it’s the only thing I could find.” You explained as you placed the chopping board of fruit onto your desk.

He stared at it momentarily in curiosity at first before he hesitantly reached out and grabbed a piece. With a quick glance at you, he shoved as much of it as he could inside his mouth. His eyes widened comically, cheeks resembling a chipmunk, as he chewed. After swallowing, he was quick to shovel down the remaining fruit.

“So,” you began as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “do you have a name that I can call you by?” When he shook his head at you in response, you frowned. “Okay, well, how ‘bout we give you one then?”

The names you stated from the top of your head had him shooting you various expressions of disapproval–the name Yixing had him blowing a raspberry, Yifan had him giving you a thumbs down, at the suggestion of Zitao you received a huff as he folded his arms, and Luhan ended up with him shaking his head violently. There were only so many EXO members you could name him after before you gave up.

“Alright, what about,” you paused. Unfortunately, creativity wasn’t something you possessed. “Sicheng?” It was the name of a kid you went to middle school with. From what you could remember, he sat beside you in a few of your classes and kept to himself. The silent nature of the tiny person reminded you of him. At first you thought it was going to be another fail of a suggestion with the way his face shrewd but then, to your surprise, he nodded in agreement. You couldn’t suppress a giggle when he bashfully pointed at where the strawberries were before making grabby hands. “Okay Sicheng, we can get you more strawberries.”

That had him smiling brilliantly, easily jumping onto the palm of your outstretched hand. You set him on your shoulder and then grabbed the chopping board before heading back down to the kitchen again.

Once Sicheng had gotten his fill of strawberries he sat down against your glass of water, planted his hands on his stomach and closed his eyes as he smiled serenely. Since he loved the fruit so much, you would have to get more of it in the future which would be difficult since they weren’t in season.

“We should go grocery shopping,” Sicheng opened an eye but closed it soon after. “So, what, you wanna just lay there?” His answer was clear by the way he didn’t move from his position. Mouth twisting you said, “we can get more strawberries.” That had him standing up in a flash, raising his arms in the air as he waited for you to carry him up.

Bundled up in a puffer jacket that layered over your hoodie, you stood opposite from your door as you thought about where you could place Sicheng. The pockets of your coat would probably suffocate him and you had the tendency to jam your hands in them at random times. If you placed him on your shoulder like you have been doing so far, other people would spot him in an instant. Unable to find a suitable spot to hide him, you suggested that he stayed at home to which you received a pout. Before you would swear that Yukhei and Yangyang had the cutest pouts but Sicheng definitely took the cake–especially with those puppy eyes of his.

Sicheng’s tiny head poked out of the pocket of your joggers. The only reason why you witnessed his movement was because you kept checking on him, just in case something went awry. He was peering curiously at the mini supermarket you were in, his head wildly swinging back and forth. You knew that he was probably curious and so, after a quick glance around the store, you lightly tapped the crown of his head with the tip of you finger. At your touch he immediately disappeared inside your pocket. You decided to stick two fingers inside his hideout, hoping that he would get the idea and climb onto them. When he did, you gently raised your arm and placed him on your shoulder.

The small sounds of amazement that he created surprised you because you thought that he didn’t, or rather couldn’t, speak at all considering that he only communicated with you using various facial expressions and body movement. Briefly, you wondered how his voice sounded; would it be high or low pitched? Would he speak fast like Dejun and Yangyang did when they were excited about something? Or would he speak similar to Kun, calm and slow? You hoped to find out soon–but only when he was comfortable, of course.

The trek home took longer than usual because you fed into Sicheng’s curiosity and allowed him to walk on his own rather than stuffing him back into your pocket. It was definitely because you loved the way he looked at everything in awe, head whipping back and forth as he took in the scenery. At first you were nervous about setting him down to let him roam freely, afraid that he would run away or somehow alert his presence to the rest of society. But you soon figured out that there was nothing to worry about because he was stealthy and would look back every so often as if he was afraid that you would run away from him.

As you neared your apartment complex, Sicheng climbed onto one of your sneakers and clutched the laces so that he wouldn’t fall off. The sight of him made you titter quietly to yourself as you adjusted your pace so that he wouldn’t swing side to side wildly. When the distance you walked towards the building shortened even further, you could see six familiar figures loitering around the entrance. Before you could usher Sicheng back into his hiding place, Kunhang spotted you and started waving madly as he began running towards you. Yukhei and Yangyang followed in suit and you were thankful when they took the shopping bags away from you, your arms aching at the weight your massive food haul.

“Why are you guys here so early?” You asked as Kunhang placed his arm around your shoulder while you subtly attempted to eye Sicheng. If you were hosting game night, they always came a little after four o’clock in the afternoon.

“We missed you.” Dejun replied as he smiled charmingly, his arm hooked around a box of Clue and Monopoly. Yonqin mocked him, swiping non-existent long hair behind his ear as he batted his eyelashes at him.

Arching a brow you said, “but we faced-timed last night.” When you tapped the electronic key onto the machine on the wall which opened the door, you added, “and we spent our break together yesterday.” Out of all your friends, Dejun’s lunch schedule mirrored yours the most which made university all the more bearable. As Dejun defended his statement, the others teased him like they always did. You didn’t know how he didn’t snap at them, just absorbed their words with a small huff of laughter or faux hits at their general direction.

It was a surprise that you made it to your apartment without the boys noticing Sicheng–he was still gripping onto your laces, peering cautiously at your friends. At some point you needed to introduce Sicheng to them since they were a solid presence in your life. You could already hear Yongqin saying, ‘I told you so!’ since he did tell you that the bean was magic. You already knew that he would reference it in the future when he needed to prove something.

Later on that night, when you all decided to take a short break, you took the opportunity to show them Sicheng. The minute you opened the door and went to remove your sneakers, he immediately slid off of it and zoomed in the direction of your bedroom. You followed him, muttering a weak excuse to your friends and found him shoving your door with all his might. The laugh that escaped you made him cast a playful glare at your direction, huffing as he crossed his arms. After you opened the door he ran to your bed, climbed up the leg and eventually made it up onto your mattress and then walked up to your pillows to flop on them as he closed his eyes. You left the room when you noticed his breathing evening out.

As you relayed your morning to your friends they all looked at you disbelievingly, like you had finally lost your marbles, which you expected. If you were in their position you definitely wouldn’t have believed yourself either. You led them to your room, silencing their words of incredulity by pressing your index finger onto your lips. They played into your request, mumbling something to one another giddily.

“Don’t freak out.” You said as you stood in front of your bed, blocking their view of Sicheng. When they gave you a chorus of affirmatives, you stepped aside to reveal your tiny sized acquaintance. The longer they stared, jaws practically touching the floor, you rambled and showed them the pot as evidence. Luckily you had been a proud parent of your plant, documenting it’s growth to them in your groupchat, as it helped strengthen your story. They knew you would never do anything to harm your beloved plant.

“I- So-” Yongqin struggled to find the right words before settling on exclaiming, “oh my God!” The others murmured something similar to express their wonder. “That means the bean was magic! Oh my God, y/n!” You prepared yourself as he whipped his head towards you, “I told you so!” Then, because he was Yongqin, he launched into a dramatic speech about how none of you should ever doubt him because he was always right and, nice old ladies never lie, y/n.

Yongqin’s lengthy rant was cut short when Kun and Yukhei cooed, followed by the others apart from you and Yongqin. You spun around to find that Sicheng had woken up, looking extremely disgruntled until he caught sight of your friends and scrambled to hide underneath your duvet. You eyed the blond accusingly before you lifted your duvet and found Sicheng huddled into himself, his arms around his bent legs.

“It’s alright Sicheng,” you whispered gently, trying to coax him out of his position. All you got were two dark eyes peeking at you in return. “They’re very nice,” you added to which he moved his gaze to your friends quickly before returning it back to you, “trust me?”

It felt like a gamble to ask that of him because the two of you hardly knew each other but you had hoped that you showed him enough kindness to earn his trust or make him feel safe in your presence at the very least. Knowing he wasn’t quick to make decisions, you waited it out. Sicheng slowly stood up, arms out to try and balance himself on the mattress. He was quick to jump onto the palm of your hand when you reached out to him. Once you he was settled, you turned to meet the excited faces of your friends.

“Sicheng these are my friends,” you announced as you used your other hand to gesture at them, “friends, this is Sicheng.” They spoke all at once, voices piling on top of one another, which made Sicheng’s eyes widen in surprise, probably unused to such a loud volume, as they introduced themselves to him.

Game night was over, it seemed, judging from the way they enthusiastically tried to befriend Sicheng and show him the wonders of the world.

“Oh my God!” Yongqin exclaimed as you all ate some hotpot, which Sicheng adored if the way he was scarfing down his food was a sign. The rest of you looked at him expectantly as you munched your food. “This isn’t Jack in the Beanstalk, this is Thumbelina!”

Life with Sicheng was a simple one once he became accustomed to your daily routine that mainly consisted of attending university and hanging out with your friends. You were one of the few lucky university students that didn’t have to work a part-time job because your parents made enough income to support you financially even though you no longer lived with them. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to get one, in fact you did apply for several vacancies, but your parents refused and told you that they would keep giving you financial aid as long as you continued to study hard. They always gave you more money than you needed which you tucked away in your savings account.

The large amount of free time allowed you and the boys to take Sicheng to different sights; you took him to the zoo and the aquarium with Yukhei and Yongqin, cooing over how scared he was of the tigers, hippos and sharks. Yangyang and Kunhang took him to the local outdoor basketball court where they played a few one on one games while waiting for their allocated physics lab time. By the time you found them they relocated to the arcade, Sicheng focused intensely on one of their games as he remained slightly hidden in Kynhang’s backpack. Dejun decided to treat you to some ice-cream, ecstatic to include Sicheng who ended up having so much of it that it caused a sugar rush which resulted in the rest of the day being spent catching up to him and his hyperactive behavior. Kun spent his time with him in the music room that was available for students on campus, playing him several songs on the piano and even composed on specifically for the tiny boy.

Unfortunately, Sicheng’s sight-seeing trips were put on hold due to upcoming exams. Exam season was hell for everyone and you spent it cooped up in your room, frying your brain as you tried to learn off useful information and tricks that would help you solve sample problems that included math–which was everywhere considering the degree you were trying to obtain.

There were tears welling in your eyes as you tried to work out some sample problems that your lecturer heavily hinted would make an appearance on the exam paper. Eraser bits were scattered all over your desk, the paper rough and void of its grids due to the amount of times you had to rub out your frequent mistakes. An ugly voice in your head was telling you to give up, that it was your worse subject anyway and that the repeat paper would probably be easier to do. You were ashamed to give in but it was extremely late and you spent the whole day studying, so you thought that it was fair that you could go to sleep.

When you woke up the next day, after your big breakfast with Sicheng, you reluctantly returned to your desk to continue the problem but stopped when you saw that it was already completed. Eyebrows furrowed, you turned to your small friend who was happily listening to an audiobook–he recently discovered poetry and came across a certain old poet that he came to really like.

You hated to disrupt his peace but couldn’t contain the need to voice your question. “Sicheng,” you called, he paused the audiobook and gave you his full attention, “did you do this?” There wasn’t anybody else in the house except for the two of you and if it wasn’t you who completed it then it was clearly him but you had to make sure, seeing as having a secret fairy godmother or something wouldn’t be so far fetched considering, well, Sicheng. “Sorry for bothering you but I just have to ask. You did this for me, didn’t you?” A shy smile made its way onto his face as he lowered his gaze, nodding his head in reply. You took him in for a moment, eyed your copy and then returned your eyes onto him. “Wow,” you breathed, “you’re so smart!” He became even more shy as you showered him in praises. “How did you solve it?” You asked eventually, you were stuck on that particular problem for days.

Sicheng looked extremely adorable as he wielded your mechanical pencil in his arms, using his whole body whenever he wrote something. He hadn’t spoken yet in the two months that he’s lived with you but he was still great at explaining how solve the problem, smiling at you encouragingly after he gestured for you to work one on your own. It took you longer than he did to solve the new sample question but after he reviewed it and made some corrections, he smiled proudly at you and urged you to keep practicing by gesturing to several other questions.

From there, Sicheng listened to his audiobook on your tablet on the desk so that he could keep an eye on you as he munched on some corn chips. Once you finished the remainder of the problem questions, seeming easier and easier to solve the more you did them, he did his best to hand you a full sized chip but due to his stature he could only offer you a crumb from the end of the bag. You thanked him as he placed it on top of your open hand, melting at his cuteness.

In the following weeks that lead up to your exams, Sicheng became your study buddy. It seemed that he had an affinity for math, gladly helping you whenever it was involved (which was a lot) and although you questioned how he possessed such knowledge, you were entirely grateful that you had someone to help you double check your answers and help you whenever you were facing some difficulty. You deeply wished that you could take him with you in the exam hall but you knew that it wasn’t a good idea.

When exam season was over, you and the boys decided to sleepover at Kunhang’s house for the weekend. The sole purpose of it being at his house was due to his projector, which was great for streaming movies on Netflix to create an indoor cinema type of atmosphere. As always, you and Kun provided food while the others brought over their portable heaters because of the poor insulation of the building. Sicheng was particularly excited about the sleepover since he hadn’t seen the others since the small New Year celebration that you guys had.

It was plain as day that Sicheng loved the boys just as much as you did. Whenever they were around, he was extra content, willingly participating in whatever mischief they planned. Though he thoroughly enjoyed their company, you observed that he evaded their frequent attempts to touch him. Touching him only seemed to be reserved especially for you and you only. You tried not to think about what that meant although it did nothing to suppress the fondness that it made you feel whenever he stuck closely to you.

Feeling a tiny poke on your thigh, you looked down to find Sicheng offering you a small piece of popcorn. Ever since he offered you some of his corn chips he took it as his job to present you with food whenever it was possible; bits of strawberries whenever you chopped some up for him, using all his strength to push gummy bears towards you whenever Yangyang had a bag or blocks of chocolate whenever Yongqin was eating some. It was endearing, especially the way his whole face lit up whenever you took it and ate it in one go.

After you took the piece of popcorn and ate it, Sicheng turned back to the wall where The Pursuit of Happyness was playing. From your peripheral vision you noticed Yongqin staring at you from where he sat on the opposite side of the room, a shit-eating grin forming when Sicheng laid on your thigh with his back against your stomach. It felt as though the private moment the two of you shared was invaded so you made a quick face at him before returning you attention back to the film. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking.

The end of your second year gave you a stress-free summer since you didn’t have to repeat any exams from either semester. The grades you obtained were phenomenal, closer to 4.0 this time around and there were some tears in your eyes when you saw it on your phone screen. It was definitely Sicheng’s doing, you couldn’t have done it without him. Yongqin was right when the old lady said that he would bring you luck. As per tradition, you and the boys packed up and went to the lakehouse that your parents owned–as a kid you would often go during summer when your parents wanted to have a getaway in favor for some family time. The yearly tradition was something that started when Kun obtained his full license and would drive all of you around until he decided that he wanted to go on a trip with you guys.

You and Yongqin laid on beach chairs as you watched the others swim. Sicheng was with them and although at first you felt your heart grip with anxiety at the thought of him going swimming, it chipped away when you saw the others taking care to show him how to swim despite his size. Now there he was, swimming in all sorts of directions as he paid no mind at the antics that the others played.

Your eyes on him were torn away when Yongqin spoke. “Do you ever think about what it would be like if he was a full sized person?”

Of course you did. You thought about it so much you started to dream about it–about what it would be like if he were human sized instead of the six inches he stood at. You liked to imagine that he would be tall, maybe taller than you, and move as gracefully as Yongqin. In your imagination he would speak charmingly and be quick witted, perhaps he would even have a loud laugh. One that was so contagious that you wouldn’t be able to do anything but laugh along with him. Sicheng was incredible in his pocket-sized form but sometimes you couldn’t help but think that he would be even better in full size. You wanted to hang out with him regularly but there were only so many things you could do with him at the size he was. It was getting increasingly difficult to shield him from society, especially since more people were out and about due to the beautiful weather.

“Yeah,” your eyes moved down to your lap, “I guess I have.” Is what you say in return, suppressing your thoughts.

“What if I told you that we could find a way?” You couldn’t look at Yongqin fast enough which made him laugh a little. “I’ve been seeing the old lady around more and more recently, and she keeps looking at me like she knows which is probably because she does.” He admitted and allowed you to soak in his words before adding, “I think we should talk to her.”

You kept silent as you thought about his suggestion. You would love it if Sicheng could somehow grow and live like the rest of you. Maybe he could attend your university or something, he could definitely major in math if he wanted to. But that was what you wanted. Sicheng had to have a say in the matter because for all either of you knew, he actually liked being his size. You passed on your thoughts to Yongqin who nodded empathically, agreeing that you should ask before even thinking about approaching the woman who gave him the bean.

Sicheng cocked his head to the side when you asked him later that night as the rest of the boys stargazed at a slightly further distance, although you were pretty sure that Dejun fell asleep which wouldn’t be surprising at all considering that he could sleep anywhere. What you got in return was an eager nod that made you release a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding.

The remaining few days at the lakehouse were spent lazying about in the sun, watching as some of the boys tried their best at fishing although Dejun chose not to participate and reasoned that he couldn’t eat the fish he had caught knowing that he had to look it in the eye as its life was ending. Night was spent either stargazing or huddled around a fire as Kun played his guitar, the other boys singing in unison as he played their song requests. It had Sicheng swaying back and forth as he listened, completely enthralled.

While you loved the time that you spent there, you were more excited when you returned to your apartment. The thought of Sicheng finally being able to enjoy hanging out with you to his fullest ability was building up so much anticipation within you. Yongqin teased you about the transparency of your feelings and was quickly joined by the others but you couldn’t find it in you to care that much, instead focusing your gaze on Sicheng who looked at you with eyes bursting of hope.

Yongqin wasn’t kidding when he informed you that she was everywhere he went, he sent you a flood of text messages every single time he caught a glimpse of her. They usually ended up with him asking you whether or not you wanted him to go over to her but before you even had a chance to reply, you would receive another text from him telling you that she got away. Catching her was more difficult than you originally thought but eventually when you, Sicheng, Yongqin and Dejun were having some coffee at your local café, she walked in. She caught your eye, smiling mysteriously as she made her way over.

“I see he’s sprouted,” she said as soon as she arrived at your table, glancing at Sicheng. “Hi there little one.” That earned her a small smile as he shrunk in on himself. “So, you want him to be regular sized. Am I correct?” Without even questioning how she knew that to begin with, you nodded fervently. She produced a small, purple pouch from the inside of her jacket. “Make sure he sleeps on this tonight and everything will work accordingly.”

“Really?” You didn’t believe that it was that easy. Not that you knew magic or anything, didn’t even know it existed pre-Sicheng days, but there had to be a catch or something. She inclined her head regally toward you in reply. “Is there something I can give you in return, or something? Like, I dunno, money?”

She shook her head as she said, smiling kindly, “you have given him love and that is all that I wanted for him.” And with that she sauntered away, turning her head back only once to wink at you.

That night you slept early, too excited about the events that were going to transpire the next day.

When you woke up the next day, you found yourself face to face with a man who was still asleep. Sicheng as a regular sized man. You couldn’t believe it. When he opened his eyes, slowly widening when he realized the situation, he shot up and immediately jumped off of the bed. A tiny gasp escaped you at his height–he wasn’t as tall as Yukhei, who was in a lanky league of his own, but he was easily taller than the other boys. You watched as he examined his eyes in wonder, moved his legs repeatedly before inspecting himself in the mirror on your vanity table. After he had gotten his fill of surveying himself, he turned to stare at you and slowly walked toward you.

Once he was within touching distance, he held up his hand in front of you and waited for you to connect it with your own. When you did as he wanted, both of you marveled at the difference in size. Experimentally, he dropped his fingers in between yours and you followed in suit so that your hands were interlocking.

“Hi y/n,” Sicheng greeted, his voice scratchy from lack of use. “It’s nice to finally look at you eye to eye.” If you were immensely astonished by his sudden growth spurt, you were even more so by the pleasant sound of his voice–even though he sounded groggy, you could already tell that you were going to be enthralled whenever he spoke in the future.

“Wait,” you said, snapping out of your thoughts, “you can talk?! How come you never said a word before?”

Sicheng smiled shyly, his eyes wandering back to your interlocked hands as he said, “I liked listening to you talk.” A string of noises left your throat that made the tips of his ears a cherry red which made you noticed how one of them was adorably shaped like an elf’s.

“You liked listening to me talk? Sicheng,” you called, tugging at your hands until you gained his attention, “I love your voice. I should be listening to you talk.” In response to your declaration he let go of your hand in order to cup his face, his smile was so beautiful, so pretty, and wide that you were sure you melted into a puddle of goo.

Later that day, when the other boys barged into your apartment as quick as they could after you told them the news, it dawned on you that the man in front of you was fatal because he had everything, not just a cute face but also the brains and personality.

When Sicheng laughed at something that Yangyang said, you recalled the shit-eating grin that Yongqin sent your way that night at Kunhang’s house because you finally understood. Your eyes widened although they stayed glued to Sicheng as he continued to laugh because oh boy were you in trouble.

#TO THE ANON WHO ASKED FOR SOME SICHENG FLUFF THIS ONES FOR U #i hope its fluffy enough !! if not lmk and i’ll work on smth else for him #this au was actually supposed to be for jeno #but my jeno au morphed into something else???????#so yeah i hoped u thoroughly enjoy this one !!#i know shes a bit long considering the plot and idk if i included enough cute scenes of pocketsized sicheng #but like okay imagine this:#pocketsized!sicheng rolling strawberries in your direction when he wants to eat some #or feed u considering thats his love language in this #or omg pocketsized!sicheng falling asleep on your forehead cause u were holding up ur phone in bed #so that the two of u could watch some anime or netflix or vine compilations #the possibilities are endless !!!!#anyway here come the tags:#wayv #wayv au #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv sicheng #wayv winwin #wayv x reader #dong sicheng #nct #nct 127 #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct sicheng #nct winwin

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it-takes-acquired-minds · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 4: Jane

((TW: Brief mentions of violence))

“I’m telling you, Edward, she hates me,” Jane insisted, walking with her brother away from the buffet table with a plate piled high with food. She threw a glance back at the duchess, who was daintily fluttering her white fan and talking with the Archduke of Acelain.

“She does not hate you,” argued Edward as she popped a cherry and almond pastry in her mouth. It was crunchier than she expected and she struggled, for a moment, to bite down.

“Try one of these things,” she suggested as the earthy flavors enveloped her tongue. “It’s from Cleves. It’s delicious.”

“Ugh, Cleves?” Edward picked a tart off of her plate. “Screw Cleves,” he muttered, too quiet for anyone but her to hear, and he ate the little dessert. “Crunchy,” he commented when he had swallowed.

“Screw Cleves?” Jane repeated, surprised at the severity of the language. “What’s wrong with Cleves? They’re a great country and one of our best military allies!”

“They’re tyrants,” he said. “They burn oba at the stake and they let the thousands of refugees that flee to their borders starve and die and they never think they’re in the wrong. They’re stubborn and boastful and their laws are downright monstrous. And their ambassador is a polished bastard.”

One hand flew to Jane’s gaping mouth. “Edward!” she hissed, stunned. “You can’t-you can’t say those things!”

“Why not? I’m the duke of the King’s Fourth Court, which comes with some pretty stable protection. As long as I keep a smiling face in front of their ambassador, I can say whatever I would like.” He grinned and plucked up another cherry and almond treat, not dropping her eyes as he ate it. “Delicious,” he relished smugly.

She elbowed him, annoyed. “You’re being disrespectful,” she chided. “I happen to like Cleves a lot.”

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t. They’re political alligators and they’re proud of it. I know how you feel about oba-”

“I don’t feel any way about oba!” Jane whispered furiously, but of course, that wasn’t true. She’d fought against the oba in the Great War, before she’d been knighted and appointed to the Tudor Tables. They’d been brutal and bloodthirsty, killing with supernatural weapons that gave them an unjust advantage. They’d been responsible for the deaths of many people that she cared about. She’d seen exactly how beastly, how inhuman they could be. Perhaps burning them was a little extreme, but who was she to question the actions of Cleves? Who was her brother to do the same?

“Yes, you do, and that’s fine, and no one’s judging you, but I also know that you’re honorable. It’s why you got appointed to the Tudor Tables,” Edward said.

“That’s not the only reason,” Jane muttered, displeased with her brother’s brand new controversies. He could get in serious trouble, and besides, he was offending her!

Edward carried on as if he hadn’t even heard her. “What they’re doing to the oba living there, to anyone living there, is immoral and cruel. They’re so wrapped up in their own hierarchy that they don’t realize their kingdom exists on a foundation of blood. Did you hear about the blizzard a few months ago? People were seeking asylum there and they were left out in the cold. No one would open their doors, and almost all of the refugees froze to death, if the hunger and disease hadn’t already claimed them.”

“Is that true?” she asked softly, shocked, looking around to make sure that no one was watching them, listening to Edward’s opinionated speeches.

“No,” he said. “Of course it’s not. Contrary to the clear evidence proving that it is absolutely true, the State of Cleves keeps telling everyone that it’s just a rumor spread by their rivals. They are obviously so honest, good and just, so how could it possibly be true?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jane told him, her horror at his accusations melting into the dull throb of insulted anger. “You’re part of the nobility, Edward. You shouldn’t be saying those things! Do you want to end up like Thomas?”

Edward spun around, flaring like a creature about to charge. Jane was momentarily startled, but she stood her ground. The words had been spit out, and she meant each one. “If you know so much about being part of the nobility, why don’t you join it?” he seethed. “Or, you know what? If you know so much about Thomas, go and join him. I know that’s where you really want to be, isn’t it, Lady Jane Seymour of the Tudor Tables?”

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t move or react. She just glared at him, unable to speak. How could she have spoken when he’d carved her throat out, leaving nothing but a screaming pain behind? And he wasn’t just spewing smoke. He was as honest as she was. He wanted to hurt her as badly as she wanted to gut him. The difference was he had succeeded. Not that she would let him know. Her pride wasn’t so weak that her own brother could make her crumble.

He snorted at her defiant silence. “Enjoy your ball. Maybe while you’re here, you can suck up to some ambassadors. You could tell them about your favorite brother, if his name wasn’t a curse.” He raised an eyebrow and Jane braced herself. “Or, if they actually cared about what you have to say.”

“I’d wager they care more about talking to a war hero than a politically corrupt buzzard prancing around in a costume and mask, crowned in a false title,” Jane shot back, folding her arms. “Everyone knows why you’re really a duke.”

If Edward was kindling, he would have burned the entire castle down. “Everyone can see the blood on your manicured skin, Jane,” he retorted. “You’re no better than any of the people you left to die.” She sucked in a breath, and he sneered. “What? Offended? Better run away, back to luxury and forgiveness. That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?”

“You’d know a thing or two about running away, Edward,” she snapped. “But if you’re going to turn this into a battlefield, I’m going to leave before you do something that you regret. Or, I guess, something else that you regret.” She turned on her heel and stalked off, swimming in her own rage. The temptation to find Ambassador Becker of Cleves and tell him everything that her brother had said was almost tangible, but she steeled herself and searched for a more preferable ambassador. One with gold hair and a beautiful smile.

Edward didn’t know anything about her. While she’d been risking her life in war, he’d been picking his way up the royal tower, sweet-talking and flattering all the right people, using every ounce of charisma when Jane was using every ounce of courage. Had she done things in the face of death that she wasn’t proud of? She had. Was she going to let Edward, someone who had far less to take pride in, tear her down because of her mistakes? She most certainly wasn’t.

“Lady Jane Seymour of the Tudor Tables?”

One of the bewatchen, the king’s personal guard, stepped into her path, his infamous silver uniform impossible to miss. She froze, fear seizing ahold of her. Had the argument between her and Edward been overheard? Was she going to be punished for insulting a duke? He was her brother, but he was still higher-ranked in the eyes of...everyone. Knights may have been honorable, but they weren’t members of the court, not really. They were, in full truth, as prone to penalty as any commoner. All that was needed was the right excuse.

Jane fell into a curtsy. “Yes, sir?”

The guard chuckled. “You need not bow before me, Lady Seymour. You are a most noble knight, after all, and who am I but a simple guard?” Jane almost laughed. Bewatchen were most definitely not the same as simple guards. He held out a gloved hand. Bewildered by the respectful manner, she took it and rose out of her bend, meeting the bewatchen’s eyes. “His Royal Majesty requests an audience with you.”

Her jaw fell open. “W-with me?” she squeaked. There was no way. There had to be some mistake. “Are you-are you sure?”

The guard smiled. “You are Lady Jane Seymour, are you not?”

Jane’s heart began to hammer inside her chest. “I-yes, I am. But-”

“Then I am certain that you are just the lovely lady he wants to see.”

She had no idea how to respond. The king was known for being unpredictable. Every encounter with him was a gamble, but she had never been the one bold enough to roll the dice. She’d watched him condemn innocent subjects to death and appoint undeserving scoundrels to court in the same heartbeat. He flipped between being her hero and as conniving as any fairy tale villain like the two sides of a coin, always with the same smile on his face. Was he going to place a crown on Jane’s head or chop it off?

Absorbed in her own fears, she let the guard lead her through the ballroom. After all, orders from the king were not to disobeyed, whatever they would entail. Whatever trouble she was in, she did not want to make it worse.

As she walked, Jane caught Edward’s gaze. He glared at her, dripping with scorn, but the anger withered into alarm when he noticed who she was walking with. Her expression of fear must have been in full display. She swallowed and did her best to act indifferent.

“Am I permitted to know why the king would like to see me, or are you going to remain frighteningly vague?” Jane asked, mostly making conversation, partially prying for something that would allow her to breathe.

The guard looked sheepish as he answered. “His Royal Majesty did not tell me the reason, simply that I was to retrieve you. You may have noticed that he left the ball early.”

“I did notice that, yes,” Jane said, not that it was any kind of accomplishment. Everyone noticed whenever the king did anything. He’d arrived late, dressed in a thick silver and violet robe, laced with white sable fur, embedded with rubies. Trumpets had fanfared him as he paraded down the grand stairs reserved entirely for the king, and the guests had parted like the tides as he made his way through the ballroom, before he kissed the ring of the blue-eyed princess of Visha, and the two of them started to dance to a classic Tudor waltz that he had probably composed.

He’d left with similar flourish, ordering the band to stop playing, standing on the first step of the grand stairs and delivering an eloquent speech about what the Dove Ball represented, and what it meant to him, not just as a king, but as a man of heart and soul, as a human being of flesh and blood, and as a genuinely good person. Jane couldn’t remember all of it, as at that time, Catalina and her had been sampling the varieties of Shirey champagnes in the corner. Was she being punished for her disrespect during his speech? But then, where was Catalina? And they hadn’t been the only ones ignoring him. He couldn’t possibly penalize that many people.

The guard led Jane behind one of the buffet tables and through a patch of platinum-clad bewatchen. They didn’t look at her or her escort as they passed through, but one handed over a thin copper rod with a point certainly sharp enough to be a torture device. Jane let out a soft whimper that caused the guard to stop.

“Lady Seymour, is everything alright?”

She straightened and yanked the corners of her lips into a smile. “Yes, absolutely. Why do you ask?”

He raised his eyebrows. “The king isn’t going to hurt you, you know.”

Jane bit her lip. “I thought that His Royal Majesty didn’t tell you why he wanted to see me.” It was an out of line observation, but she wasn’t sure she was going to live to see the light of day again.

“His Royal Majesty didn’t,” the guard confirmed, which did not help Jane’s nerves at all. He placed the rod into a slight crease in the wall, and it unhinged, revealing a long, dark hall. Jane blinked. A secret door? This encounter could not get any stranger. “Do come inside.”

Jane wanted to do anything but step over the threshold of the black hall of doom, but the bewatchen was staring at her, and the king was waiting, and if she disobeyed now, all she’d be doing would be sealing her fate. So, still holding the guard’s hand, she shuffled into the darkness. The door slammed shut behind her, loud enough to make her startle. I’m going to die in here, she thought. I am going to lose my head, or get stabbed, or burned alive.

“Lady Jane Seymour.” A soft, cool voice came spiraling out of the void. She froze, recognizing all too well who was speaking “Just who I wanted to see.”

Hey everyone! Now that I’m GRADUATED (finally it took long enough) I can hopefully post more often!! And so we finally rope in our dear least favorite king, Henry the 8th. Question: Would anyone like me to tag him as a TW? I absolutely will do that. I haven’t been so far, but I most definitely will, especially as he becomes more involved. Anyway, we’re finally kicking off the action! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I’ll see y’all soon for Chapter 5!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24040168/chapters/59500717#workskin

Tags: @theatergirl06 @silverpetals97 @timetoriseabove

If you’d like to be notified when I post a new chapter, just send an ask and I’ll happily add you to the list. :-)

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #queens #six queens #queendom #jane seymour #henry viiii

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belladonnaandulriched · 4 years ago

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amped and wired, part two | chapter eleven: kill or be killed

“Alright, gang, listen up,” Mrs. Hamilton started once we had arrived back at Black Orchid.

“Danny!” Scott exclaimed when he saw him standing next to me near the front door.

“Hey!” Dan followed up.

“What happened to you?” asked Charlie.

“I went to find a phone and got lost!”

“He also found a clone,” I chimed in.

“Yeah, Danny here found a clone and she malfunctioned,” Mrs. Hamilton continued, unfazed by it all. “And so Lars put her outside and she literally had a meltdown. We came here to check on all of you to make sure you're alright.”

“Yeah, we're good,” Scott replied with a sigh of relief and a glimpse over at Frankie and Charlie. “We were just about to come on over to Joey's place to do the same thing.”

“We were about to get something to eat, too,” Charlie added. “The three of us and the girls, too. Just head on over to the grocery store and fill up the fridge in the kitchen again.”

“Mrs. Hamilton offered us coffee, though,” Danny pointed out.

“We're out of that, too,” Frankie confessed with a shrug.

“Well, let's get on it then!” Mrs. Hamilton declared. I looked over at Lars right as he had this look on his face like he was about to barf or something. “Actually, I'll go forth with it.”

“Are you sure you don't want Joey and me to tag along?” he asked her.

“Oh, Lars, that's real sweet of you. But I'm sure I can get it just fine, though. I'll be right back, too.”

“She really can, Lars,” I assured him. He sighed through his nose and the look on his face was one of disappointment. Mrs. Hamilton doubled back outside to the cold, and I returned to the front room there, just as Scott asked us about Maya.

“She looked like a regular human,” Danny elaborated, “with blood and guts and bones—but she also had a tiny little bit of neon inside her. Like—she was a robot, a clone, sure... but she was made of skin and bones like a regular human.”

“Remember when we were down in the City and Frankie ran into that one clone?” I recalled.

“How could we forget...” Frankie's voice trailed off as he took a sip of water.

“Complete and utter bloodbath,” I said.

“Yeah, it was like that there, too,” Danny continued. I looked over at Lars as he had this look on his face like something ate at him. His eyes were large and he shifted his weight a lot in that single spot. I still had no idea where the bathroom was in that strip club, either.

“Hey, Lili—” Louise called from the kitchen. “Oh, hey, guys.”

“Mrs. Hamilton went to the supermarket,” Danny told her. “She'll be back.”

“Okay, okay...”

“Joey?” Lars called to me.

“Yeah?” He had backed up to the hallway, right to the entry way there

“May I have a word with you in private, please?”

“Uh, sure?” I turned to Scott, Danny, Frankie, and Charlie, all of whom looked at me, puzzled. Lars ducked away into the hall; before I stepped in there myself, Scott whispered my name. I looked back at his raising an eyebrow at me, to which I shrugged at him. I thought about the secret between me and him as Lars led me up to that loft on the next floor.

I could hear him breathing hard and heavy as if he had been running a mile. He stood before the bed closest to the door with his back to me.

“Close the door please,” he advised me. I did, and then I tucked my hands into my pockets.

“What's wrong?” I asked him. He sighed through his nose but never turned around. “Lars? What's wrong?”

He then turned around and looked on at me with a solemn expression on his face.

“Have a seat,” he gestured to the space on the bed next to him. I took a seat there and then he followed suit. I could only think about the secret between me and Scott as I examined his somber expression and his hands right in between his thighs.

“Is this about this room here?” I asked him.

“No, no, no—but I need to get something off my chest, though,” he started. “And I trust you the most, too. Because it is—” He cleared his throat and stifled another belch in there, too. “It's—pretty significant. I wanted to tell you when we had a moment alone but I never could find it because either one of us had to do something or Mrs. Hamilton or someone was within earshot. I don't want her to know this, and I never wanted her to know about this, either.”

I knitted my eyebrows together. “What is it?” I asked him. Surely, it couldn't be that serious.

He fetched up a sigh and closed his eyes.

“Surely, it can't be that bad, Lars,” I assured him as I inched closer to him there on the bed. He and I had broken the ice between us already: whatever he had to share with me perhaps couldn't be so awful as he believed. Or so I believed.

“It is, Joey,” he blathered with shakes of his head. “I fucked up. I fucked up bad. So ungodly bad.”

“What did you do?” I moved my head in closer to his.

He bowed his head.

“Lars?” I lowered my voice to a near whisper. “Lars, what did you do.”

“I killed her,” he confessed with his eyes still snapped shut.

“Who, Maya?”

“No. My wife.”

I gaped at him. He opened his eyes and lifted his head at me.

“I killed my wife.”

I almost gagged. “W-Why?” I sputtered; I felt nauseous.

“To protect her. You know everything I said was true, except I left that part out. I didn't like how stressed she was getting.”

“So you—you—you fuckin—”

“Put a rope to her throat and yanked back. And then—because I knew I was going to catch hell for it—”

“Catch hell?!” I stammered, and I almost choked on my own spit at that. “Lars, that's the fuckin' least of your problems. You know that, right?”

“I cut her up and began eating her,” he blurted out. I stopped.

“What,” I said.

“I cut her up and began eating her. It was the only way out—out of it. I ate other things on top of her to rid of the taste from my mouth. But yes—I am eating her.”

“E-Eating,” I sputtered; my stomach turned so much, I thought it was going to twist itself around my spine. He opened his coat and took out a little plastic Tupperware container with a smooth black lid. Crammed inside was some sliced meat that resembled to roast beef, albeit raw given it was bright red. And then I realized what he was talking about.

“Ohhhhh—” I scrambled back from him towards the foot of the bed. For all I knew, he had marinated it in her blood.

“What?” he asked me, completely nonplussed. “It's not going to hurt you. It's like sliced lunch meat. It's a bit stringy and tough in some spots so I took some of the more tender meat for the road.”

“What the fuck, you're still eating her?!” I shrieked.

“Shhhh!” he hissed at me with a finger up to his lips. “Keep your voice down!”

I clasped a hand over my mouth and the two of us glanced over at the door for a good long minute. Silence out there. Nobody came. I lowered my hand.

“You kept eating her?” I demanded in a hushed voice.

“There was just—a lot. Too much too soon. I had a feeling I was going to be here a while so I took some of her with me. I sliced her up fine and then added some salt and pepper for flavor, and then put her in the oven. The rest of her is in a freezer behind the supermarket here in Oswego. I offered to come along with Mrs. Hamilton over there because I forgot today was trash day. Completely forgot about it.”

I looked on at Lars' body. And then it made sense. The belching. The fact he was heavy. HE'S BROUGHT A DEAD WOMAN HERE WITH US, GOD DAMN IT!

“Well,” I swallowed and kept a hand to my stomach, “what do you think we should do?”

“That is my worry,” he continued with a concerned look on his face, “that I am unable to get there in time before the remainder of her carcass is tossed away and I'm dead meat.”

“Dead meat along with her,” I felt so sick.

“Except I won't get sliced up.”

“You sure about that?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Memories of the warehouse hit me, too. I could only imagine what the foray would be like if someone killed their fucking spouse and the punishment included getting sliced and diced into fucking lunch meat to comprise of clones of Maya. At least, that was my imagination. I had no idea what the goal was all about, if Candace's journal was anything to go by.

“Lars? Joey?” Charlie's voice called up the stairwell. I gasped.

“Shit! Put it away!” I told him with a gesture to the container.

“I don't really comfortable putting it back in my coat, though!” he insisted.

“You think I feel comfortable seeing that fucking thing out in the open?” I demanded as the sick feeling returned to my stomach. “Put it away!”

“You put it away!” He shoved it towards me.

“No! I feel sick to my stomach just looking at it!”

“It's in fucking Tupperware, Joey—it's not like it's going to jump out at you!”

“It's your fucking wife, Lars! Container or not, I ain't touching lunch meat made from your fucking wife!”

The door opened and Charlie stepped into the room. Lars still cradled that container in his hand and I was clear on the other side of the bed. Charlie looked at the container with his eyes widened a bit.

“What the hell is that,” he asked in a low voice.

“Charlie, close the door,” Lars told him.

“Why?”

“Don't question it, Char, just do it,” I told him. Charlie stepped forward and closed the door behind him.

“This is—my—secret stash of—pastrami,” said Lars at a slow pace.

“Why didn't you say anything, man?” Charlie asked him with a chuckle. “I love pastrami, and I know Joey does, too.”

“Best sandwiches—ever,” I stammered as I struggled to keep my composure.

“Right next to meatballs!” Charlie added with a twinkle in those beetle like dark eyes.

“Because—Mrs. Hamilton doesn't care for it too much,” he continued. “And it's been in my coat so it's not very cold.”

He shook his head. “That's alright. Can I have a piece?”

I swallowed and lowered my gaze to the container. Lars peeled off that lid: we were met with a smell that reminded me of fresh cured lunch meat. He made her and kept her preserved, just to be put on a sandwich.

But then Charlie took the first slice from the top and stuck it in his mouth. I thought I was going to barf right there.

“What the hell, Lars,” he said with his mouth full.

“What's wrong with it?”

“Nothin',” Charlie assured him; I could see the sinews of blood and tissue on his teeth. “But why'd you keep it a secret, though?”

“Because, like I said—Mrs. Hamilton doesn't care for it too much.”

“Really? Because the first night we were here, she made us roast beef and potatoes and she gobbled it up like it was nothin'.”

“She probably only did it because she didn't want you guys to feel lonely,” Lars assured him. Charlie nodded and then he turned to me as he picked his teeth with his nail.

“Joey, you okay? You look like you're about to pass out, dude.”

“Oh—he's still kind of spooked from Maya earlier,” Lars told him as he put the lid back onto the container.

“Oh, no, hey! Keep that open! I'm gonna see if Scott, Frankie, and Danny want some—that was good.”

“I think Mrs. Hamilton might be getting something for us in a bit here, though,” he insisted.

“True, true... and you both know how the three of them can be when there's a secret stash of goodies abound.”

“Absolutely!” Lars chirped.

“Yeah...” I moaned. Charlie picked at his teeth a little more.

“The one complaint I have is it's a little bit stringy,” he remarked with a knitting of his eyebrows, “and it's a little more chicken-y than I like. But otherwise, that's about it and I kinda get it, too, 'cause you had it hidden away in your coat. As for myself, I'm gonna get a drink of water...” He then doubled back and headed out of there. Lars let out a low whistle and I lay down across the foot of the bed, down on my back.

“I was not expecting that,” he confessed; he then turned to look at me. “And before you ask, Joey—what was I supposed to do? Tell him that I have my wife in this container here?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed as I brought the backs of my hands to my forehead. I closed my eyes to ease the sick feeling inside my stomach but it was useless: I kept seeing Charlie just... just... eat it. Without question. I should have stopped him, but then again—what was I supposed to do?

“You know, it's just hard to do so,” he continued as he lay down on the bed next to me. He set the container on top of the mattress, right between our heads.

“'Cause there's a lot,” I said.

“Right. That's why when Mrs. Hamilton was in the shower, I was able to unload on you like that. Seeing as she will be back within time, I had no time to explain it to him.”

“You still could'a said sump'n.”

“Like what? 'Oh, hey, Charlie, there's human meat in here. Don't eat it.'”

“Explain it real quick to him—maybe?”

“Nah, he would never buy it. There's too much. Besides—he already ate it.”

“What're we gonna tell him now?” I asked him.

“No idea. But I hope we can be able to tell him, and also Scott, Dan, and Frank, too. I killed my wife, ate some of her, and then fed a little piece of her to Charlie.”

“At least you didn't make a pie with her,” I pointed out.

“Well...” His voice trailed off.

“Oh, God, Lars, don't tell me.”

He lowered his gaze to the container.

“Don't fucking tell me you made a fucking pie of her. What the fuck.”

“No... it's not like that,” he corrected me.

“What do you mean?”

“You say 'pie' like—” He stopped with a look at me dead in the face. And then I realized what he was saying.

“Oh,” I breathed out. “Oh—dear—god—you're tellin' me that—that—right there is—” I gestured to the container, to which he nodded his head.

“Let's just say I, uh—” He cleared his throat. “—um—wanted to taste her a little more one last time. Make love and dance with her—eat her ass, too. Some of her ass is in there, too.”

I thought back to earlier, when in my own kitchen, I stuck my tongue inside of Mrs. Hamilton's lips, and I could only assume how Charlie would react when someone told him that he ate out Lars' wife. I swallowed as another wave of nausea swept over me, followed by a wave of confusion. I didn't know what to think or say right then. Except—

“So, let me get this straight,” I started, “you—killed her and then started eating her because you were afraid of getting caught.” I rolled my head over the top of the covers to look at him.

“Yes.”

“Is that why you and I never got caught when we took that one dead clone to the hospital?”

“Actually—I was hoping you would ask me about that at some point. We didn't caught because my wife knew Maya. It's like a de facto knowing of her. We didn't get caught because the assumption was that I knew her and you helped me.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying that all the shit that's going down in New York City has already come upstate.”

“Why didn't say anything, though?”

“Because I killed my wife. I went through all that because I needed a means of proving to myself that I killed her for the best.”

“Dude, you fucking killed her and made her pussy into lunch meat and fed it to Charlie,” I scoffed.

“I am aware, Joey,” he insisted, vehement. “I also did it and wanted you guys to get into it because this is New York. This whole shtick is centered within New York. When my wife was alive, we came here often—and not just because Metallica is close to Anthrax, either.”

I then lifted myself onto my elbows and gaped at him.

“Are you saying you burned down Anthrax's studio down in the City?” I demanded.

“What? No!” He scrambled upright himself.

“Well, you said you wanted us to be a part of it, too,” I pointed out with a nod of my head. “I just made the assumption that that was what you meant.”

“Joey, do you remember our discussion about assumptions?”

“Pfff, how could I forget?” I rolled my eyes.

“I didn't burn it down—but I think I know who did, though.”

“Who?” I asked him.

“Candace.”

“Candace? Why would she do that?”

“For the exact same reason. I wanted you guys to be a part of it, and I guess she must've read my mind and nudged them out of it herself.”

I thought about the candles in that one room in the warehouse. The muttering nonsense as she shoveled those pages into her mouth. Of course!

“Joey? Lars?” Frankie that time.

“Yeah?” Lars called out.

“Mrs. Hamilton's back! Could you guys come help us?”

“Sure thing!” He returned to me.

“What do you think we should do with it?” I asked him.

He then raised a finger at me. He took the container off of the bed and ducked behind the side.

“Oh, jeez, Lars, don't put it there!” I scoffed as I realized where he had put it.

“Why? It's a good spot and there's nothing underneath here. Doubt the three of them will take a look under here at any given point.” He then stood up and held out a hand for me. The skin was clean so I reached for it and stood to my feet next to him.

“Not a word,” he told me in a low voice.

“Like I'm gonna go around and be like 'hey, Lars has a container full of his dead wife stashed under the bed',” I cracked. He rolled his eyes and led me out of the room. The two of us made our way downstairs, where we were met with Frankie, Charlie, Danny, and Louise.

“Where is Mrs. Hamilton?” Lars wondered aloud.

“And Scott?” I added.

“She broke down a couple of blocks away,” Frankie explained as he put on his jacket. “Scott already walked down there to make sure she's alright. That piece of shit car, man...”

I adjusted the lapels on my jacket as I followed them outside to the blustery cold. It got so cold so fast and I knew the lake effect was upon us again. The sick feeling in my stomach was replaced by a pitted feeling. A pit sinking deeper inside my poor stomach.

Something was going to happen. I could feel it.

Indeed, we didn't even get a block away from Black Orchid when I caught the sound of the garbage truck up the block. I turned to Lars and the worried look on his face; Frankie, Charlie, and Danny were right in front of us, and Louise lingered behind us, so Lars couldn't say anything to me right then.

But he could break into a run across the street.

“Whoa, hey, Lars!” Frankie called after him. “Where ya going, man?”

“Lars!” Charlie followed up given Lars didn't look behind him. “Lars, what's the matter?”

I glanced behind me to make sure no cars were coming. I darted across the cold blacktop after him.

“Joey!” Danny called after me. The soles of our shoes echoed over the pavement as I chased after Lars. He leapt over a row of evergreen bushes to a stretch of short dead grass and cold dirt. On the far side of it was one of the side streets leading to the main street. I spotted the garbage truck up ahead at the corner, ready to hang a left.

I knew where he was going. I knew exactly where he was going.

He might have been big but he was an athlete like me: but I was also more active than him and I did more moving around on a hockey rink. I caught up with him but I didn't stop him. Instead I ran alongside him.

“The place?” I asked him, out of breath.

“You know it!” he declared as we ran parallel clear across the dirt. I could hear Mrs. Hamilton's convoluted Pennsylvania Dutch accent behind us as we made our way to the street.

But that truck was faster than us. They reached the back parking lot before we did, but I was determined to reach it first as we crossed the street. I was the fast runner.

Right.

I tripped on a flat piece of sidewalk and fell ass over teakettle into a bush.

“Joey!” Lars shouted. I rolled over onto the branch right as he leapt over me. My chest swelled as I struggled to catch my breath. I spat out a few pine needles and I turned my head to see Frankie and Charlie running towards me. I coughed a little given I ran so hard and fast just then that it did a number on my lungs and my throat. I crawled out of that bush and onto the grass, and took a seat there to catch my breath. Over the roar of the trash truck, I wondered where Lars had run to. I wondered where Scott was given I didn't hear his big Queens accent with Mrs. Hamilton.

“Joey!” Frankie called out to me once they came within earshot. “Joey, you alright?”

“Oh yeah—I've done worse before,” I assured them.

“He may be skinny but he's tough,” Charlie added. Mrs. Hamilton and Danny ran up the sidewalk right then; I couldn't hear a thing they were saying given the trash truck made too much racket with the dumpsters behind the supermarket. But once my breath was steady, I climbed to my feet and stepped through the bushes to the pavement.

Lars hurried up to me right then with a flustered look on his face.

“What happened, Lars?” Mrs. Hamilton asked him. “Throw something away by accident?”

“I didn't make it,” he confessed to us, but actually me in a low voice. “I did see some poor bastard crawl inside one of the dumpsters and then the truck took him—away...” His voice trailed off. We were silent.

“Oh, shit,” Charlie sputtered.

“What's wrong?” Mrs. Hamilton asked him.

“Where's Scott,” I said aloud.

“Oh, shit!” Charlie exclaimed; I thought back to what he said it being trash day.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Lars screeched. He turned to me with a worried look on his face. “I knew this was going to happen!”

I shook my head at him. “Huh?!”

But he didn't reply. Instead, he peered about the parking lot like a lost child.

“—Scott!” Charlie shouted. “Scott! SCOTT!”

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falseroar · 5 years ago

Text

Is This Your Card? Part 8: What Little Chef Saw

((The District Attorney runs into the Chef, who doesn’t know much about what happened last night. His little buddy, on the other hand, is a different story. In need of some fresh air, the attorney goes outside and runs into Damien, who’s feeling just as lost and confused as they are.

Link to the masterlist for the series.))

In the kitchen, you ran cold water over a rag dug out of one of the drawers and, with a wince, pressed it against your bruised eye. The excess water from the rag ran down your wrist and dripped onto your shirt, but it did feel good after the initial shock of the first touch.

“I thought I told you to stay out of my kitchen!”

You turned around to find the chef standing uncomfortably close. You backed away from him, or tried to, but your hips bumped into the counter behind you.

Following your stare, the chef lowered the knife in his hand and said, “I was about to start making some food when I heard a rat scurrying around in my kitchen.”

“Sorry, I just needed something for my eye,” you said, removing the compress for a second to show him.

He snorted with a barely suppressed laugh at the sight. “Man, that hunter really hit you, didn’t he? I’d offer you a steak, but I don’t want to waste good meat on you.”

The chef turned away from you and went to the island in the middle of the kitchen, where he had already laid out a cutting board and what looked suspiciously like leftover spaghetti. With an exaggerated grunt of effort, he raised his knife and brought the blade down on the cutting board with a smack before repeating the cut again and again.

Maybe it was cathartic, or maybe it was supposed to be intimidating, you weren’t sure, but you waited until after one of the swings against the defenseless noodles before speaking again.

“You don’t know why he hit me, do you?”

“Probably for asking stupid questions,” Chef answered before bringing the knife down with another crack. “I bet you’re here to ask me about last night. Well, you can tell that dick that I was busy cleaning up after that delicious meal I prepared, no thanks to any of you. It was one AM before I finally retired to my room. Took me forever to mop up all of that blood.”

“Blood?”

“You cook raw steak, you’re going to get some juices,” Chef answered with a wave of his knife. “Not that you would know, you barely touched any of my cooking!”

“…Sorry, I didn’t have much of an appetite last night,” you said. It wasn’t like you could tell him the silverware made it almost impossible. “It smelled really good though.”

“I know my stuff,” the chef said as he used the flat of his blade to push the pulverized noodles out of his way before pulling over some vegetables for chopping.

Even over the whack of the blade, you can make out the sound of the butler still sobbing down in the wine cellar, although the sound was faint enough you doubted the chef could hear it.

“Is the butler…is he okay?”

“You mean in the head? I don’t know, man, this place seems to attract weird people,” the chef said, his shrug indicating that he included himself in it.

“He seems to be taking Mark’s death pretty hard,” you said. Not that he was the only one, but you added, “Was he that close to him?”

“You really don’t know nothin’, do ya?” The chef paused in his dicing of lettuce to look you up and down before explaining what that was supposed to mean. “Mark, he helped me and that pompous clean freak out when we needed it most, and I ain’t ashamed to say it. Not for me to say what was going on with Benjamin, but after Easy Pickin’s went under, Mark was the only one willing to hire me. He’s cheap as hell, but at least he pays something.”

“Easy Pickin’s?” You knew that name.

“Restaurant I used to work at.”

“Wait, wasn’t that—”

The chef cut you off with a glare. “So you read about it in the paper, huh? Or were you one of the people howling to shut us down?”

You flinched at his choice of words and admitted, “No, I’d been there. Not as a—I don’t mean—”

The chef growled and you cleared your throat.

“I had contacts who liked to meet there, because of the…atmosphere.”

“And the damn good food.”

“Yeah. That too.”

You had been to Easy Pickin’s before, and knew exactly what kind of clientele they had served before the city shut them down. Vampires, ghouls, any relatively human-shaped persons that managed to live on the outskirts of society knew that the restaurant was the place to go for anyone with…special dietary needs. The candles on the tables provided ambience and enough low-lighting to pretend not to notice what the table next to you might be eating or drinking, although your nose picked up on enough details despite your best efforts to drown them out.

The chef sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I was the head chef there, where people knew what respect meant. We weren’t hurting anybody, but…”

“But people weren’t comfortable with the reminder that nonhumans live in the city too,” you finished for him. The wards on the city’s walls could force anyone who wanted to enter or exit the city to go through the official gates, but not all monsters could be picked out of a line that easily.

You personally knew there were ways to get around being spotted, especially for someone determined enough to risk everything on a new life.

You weren’t sure if it was the words or something in your tone when you said them, but the chef gave you a new, studying look before he spoke again.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you check with my Little Chef, see if he’s picked up anything that could help.”

“I’m sorry, your little…?”

You trailed off as the chef placed a proud hand on a small statuette that looked remarkably like him, down to the long tangle of hair trailing down over its shoulder, although you had yet to see the chef give a smile like that. You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready to see him smile like that statue.

“A witch gave Little Chef here to me to keep an eye on my kitchen as a gift, because my pies are just that good. If anything happened here, he can show you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s some kind of scrying spell or something, looks for anything out of the ordinary. I don’t know, magic ain’t my thing.”

“No, I mean you’ll let me look at it?” The chef could have easily not told you about it, or shown it earlier to prove his innocence in front of everyone if he thought it would help. “Why now?”

“…You know those cards everyone got last night? How Mark’s outed him as a werewolf?”

“Yes, but Mark wasn’t—”

“This is what I got.” The chef held up a card, on which was typed the words “Easy Pickin’s.” “Seein’ what Mark had, I guess that whoever sent those cards thought I would be ashamed of where I used to work, like I would ever regret something I put my heart and soul into.”

The chef jabbed a finger into your chest, leaving you glad that he at least didn’t use the knife still held in his other hand. “Which is why I want you to find whoever’s behind all of this, so I can look ‘em in the eye and spit in their face.”

“…Got it,” you said. It wasn’t the most admirable reason, not when the person in question was most likely a literal murderer, but you weren’t about to talk him out of it.

The chef turned back to his meal prep with a more or less positive grumble, leaving you staring at the statuette sitting on the corner.

How, exactly, was this thing supposed to work?

You glanced at the chef out of the corner of your eye, but he had stopped paying attention to you and you suspected that asking him would just lead to more angry outbursts and knife waving. Better to save that as a last resort.

You leaned closer and placed a hand on the statue’s head to turn it in search of some kind of device or clue to activate it, but the second your skin touched the oddly warm ceramic, the room around you changed.

It was still the kitchen, but dark and silent. An awareness in the back of your mind that you weren’t familiar or comfortable with told you that it was just after one AM last night, the still glistening floors suggesting that the chef really had just finished his mopping. You tried to turn your head, but the movement did nothing to change the angle of what you were seeing.

Out of the ordinary, Chef had said. Like someone entering the kitchen.

At your thought, your vision blinked before returning to the same room, the sense in the back of your mind telling you that it was now 1:35. Only instead of an empty kitchen, you saw Benjamin loom large in your peripheral vision as he walked past the statue on the counter. You tensed as the butler leaned to look down the hall in the direction of the chef’s room and then around him before opening the door—

Of the fridge.

The butler proceeded to pull a glass bottle out of the fridge and pour himself something before abruptly returning the bottle to the fridge and leaving the room at speed, glass in hand.

The sound of approaching footsteps that scared the butler off proved to belong to the Colonel, who stood in the middle of the kitchen and looked around as if searching for something before lazily scratching at the back of his neck with the barrel of his gun. The gun which he placed on the counter next to the statue before raiding the fridge himself, during which he popped something you could not see straight into his mouth. Then he shrugged and walked out of the room.

Leaving his gun behind.

Your heart leapt and you willed the statue to go to the next time someone entered the room, but when your vision skipped again it was to find the light of dawn streaming into the room as the butler entered through the same door he left by the night before, duster in hand.

At the sight of the gun on the counter he sighed and picked it up with two fingers before calling for the Colonel on his way out.

If no one exchanged the bullets in the Colonel’s gun then, that meant it must have happened during the party last night. Of course, everyone was distracted enough that still left a wide window to work with, but there was something else that bothered you about what the statue had seen.

Benjamin had made a remark about the kitchen closet, the one very clearly in view all night, and the spare master key contained within it. The key that someone would have had to use to get into Abe’s room and his nightstand to get to his gun.

At the thought of the monster hunter, Little Chef began to jump back through previous nights, giving you scattered visions of other rooms in the house devoid of anything interesting until it stopped at a view through the kitchen’s back door, the awareness in the back of your mind putting it at three nights ago, on the 7th. Through open blinds, you could see a figure still undeniably recognizable even in silhouette.

“Abe!” Mark called out, his voice sounding tinny and distant through the statue, and you felt the breath leave your chest in a sharp gasp.

“Mark,” Abe said warmly, taking his hand. “Good to see you.”

“Great to see you,” Mark answered. “Look, I’ll cut right to the chase: Chef, Butler, good?”

“Chef’s an asshole,” Abe said, earning a nod in acknowledgement from Mark, “But he’s clean. The butler, the new guy, also clean.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mark said.

Their conversation was cut short as they moved out of sight of the door and Little Chef, leaving you to step back from the statue and into the present.

“I don’t…I—” You shook your head and looked around, but the chef seemed to have left while you were distracted. The timer over the oven, from which a smell wafted that made your empty stomach turn with a wave of nausea more than hunger, suggested it would be some time before he came back.

With no one around, you walked over to the closet and opened the door to find the spare master key hanging on its hook. You briefly considered taking it, but realized that could just lead to more issues if someone found it on you.

But if it was here and there was no sign of anyone returning it since last night, then…

A brief pain throbbed inside of your skull, made worse by the smell coming from the oven that you couldn’t ignore, too strong and overwhelming just like the tick of the clock on the wall, the heady odor of polish the butler seemed to have used everywhere, the scent of cleaning fluid used to mop the floor last night that still lingered on the tiles, the voices of the chef, the butler, and the colonel arguing in the distance after a chance encounter in the hall, every smell and every sound in the house—

It was just too much.

You stumbled out the back door, arms wrapped around yourself in a desperate attempt to stay in the moment, to stay in control, while you could feel the tingle in your spine and along every nerve, the familiar precursor to the change.

Not here, not now.

Outside, in the fresh air, you took a deep, steadying breath and then another. You’d had moments like this before, where your whole body reacted to a situation and decided “wolf” was the best option, but never this bad or for this long. It had been a constant since you entered the house last night, as though your whole being was trying to turn in and defend itself. From what, you didn’t know, but the last few hours had sent the sensation into overdrive. You had already changed once without meaning to, last night apparently, and that was before…

Before everything else.

When Damien found you sitting on one of the benches beneath the metal gazebo near the stairs some time later, you still felt at a complete loss. A sentiment echoed on your friend’s face when he spotted you, before sighing and taking a seat beside you.

“Look, I’m sorry you saw that argument with the Colonel,” he said, surprising you. “I lost my temper and it wasn’t right.”

“Are you sure I’m the one you should be apologizing to?”

Damien sighed again. “He must be in shock. The Colonel’s an eccentric, it’s his best quality and his worst. But he’s my friend, and…so was Mark.”

The cane passed back and forth between Damien’s hands, his focus at times more on the silver-topped piece of wood than anything else as though it was the only thing within his reach that he could control.

“I know I’m supposed to be a leader in this scenario, but I can’t help but feel lost. I’ve known Mark for years, since we were kids. And he’s just gone?”

His voice broke and you found your hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him in your own silent way.

“I-I’m sorry, I know Mark was your friend too—”

“You don’t…Please stop apologizing to me, Damien.” You felt the strain in your voice as your hand slipped off of his shoulder. “You have every right to feel as lost and confused as the rest of us, if not more. It just…the more I look at it, the less any of this makes any sense. Those cards…”

“Were upsetting, as they were clearly meant to be,” Damien said. There was something in his tone, but before you could ask what his cards were, he continued, “Was that…the card Mark had in his pocket, was it…?��

You nodded, unable to even look in his direction. Your hands clasped together as you leaned forward, fighting to remain human as you said, “Yeah. Yeah it was. You were right, I should have told him, before—before…Maybe he would—”

“My friend.” You felt Damien’s hands on your shoulders, irresistibly turning you toward him. You could see his cane lying on the bench behind him, but your eyes resisted meeting his own for as long as they could. “Look at me. That is not a road of thought you should ever go down. We cannot change what we did or did not do any more than we can change what happened last night.”

“So, what, I’m just supposed to forget Mark was killed with a silver bullet while holding my card? That if I hadn’t been so terrified to even look at it again, I might have realized it was gone? That maybe if I had tried to talk to him last night instead of trying to drink my thoughts away, maybe he wouldn’t have been alone with a killer? That maybe if I had ever tried to tell him, maybe I would at least know…know if he…”

“Mark would have understood,” Damien said with a quiet certainty that you could never understand, ignoring the prickle of fur beginning to rise under his hands, the elongation of your teeth. “I believe that completely. Just as I believe we can figure this out, together. We can choose to keep moving forward, if for nothing else than to bring this murderer to justice.”

A rumble of thunder overhead distracted you both, leaving you to wonder if underneath a metal structure was really the best place to be with a storm coming.

“You know what I always say—”

“Don’t you dare—”

“Life is ours to choose.” Damien smiled as you pushed him away with a groan at his far too often repeated motto. You still felt raw inside, the pain of the last few hours still too close and fresh to fully process, but being here with him helped. As if you could stay in control for a little longer.

You knew, no matter what shape you were in at the moment, Damien could always calm you down and bring you a little closer to human again.

((End of Part 8. Thanks for reading! ...You know, it’s always bothered me how we were able to see those recordings on Little Chef in WKM. Does he have a screen on the back of his head, or like a cable to connect to a monitor, or...? So yeah, this version’s just a magic plot device.

Link to Part 9: On its Own?

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch))

#markiplier #fanfiction #wkm au #werewolf au #monster hunter au #wkm district attorney #wkm chef #wkm damien #wkm detective #damien & y/n #doubts and regrets #a little closer to human #but what do you do when he's gone?

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