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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years ago

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You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 9

As Long as You’re Mine

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.1K

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 @50svibes @cagzzz107 @evelynshelby @piano-isnt-my-forte If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

AO3 link

Chapter 9 let’s go!!!

“Okay, how does this sound?” Juliet asked Ron, who sat on her bed as she put together her story of the trial. He was careful not to recline, lest he disturb her pages of notes carefully organized atop the quilt. “Meredith Fisher confessed to the murder of six-year-old Peggy Lee in front of the courtroom before her trial began. Mrs. Fisher was arrested and charged with the murder in September of last year. Her lawyer, Mr. Harvey Cooper, originally planned to plead not guilty, but in a shocking turn of events, Mrs. Fisher herself admitted to the jury she killed Peggy Lee before even opening arguments could be made.”

“I’d read that,” Ron replied.

Juliet huffed and looked around her room at the Blue Boar. Papers littered the floor, pens were nowhere to be found, and her typewriter was mocking her. Now that the trial was finished - with such a dramatic twist - she was hard at work, trying to ensure she reported it just right. An impossible task, it felt like.

“Okay, but would you read it because I’m your girlfriend or because of the writing?” she asked.

“The writing,” he told her. “It’s simple, it explains everything.”

“It feels a bit long for the lead,” she said. “Perhaps I should put the bit about her arrest in the nut graph.”

“That does feel more like background information,” he agreed.

She pulled a pencil from behind her ear, scratched out the sentence, and began again. “So, it’d go like this - Meredith Fisher confessed to the murder of six-year-old Peggy Lee in front of the courtroom before her trial began. Her lawyer - I’m gonna take out his name and have that later - so, Her lawyer originally planned to plead not guilty, but in a shocking turn of events, Mrs. Fisher admitted to the jury she killed Peggy Lee before even opening arguments could be made. Then I’ll go into when she was arrested, the details of the murder, then the evidence the prosecution had prepared, and finish with her sentencing date. How’s that?”

“I think it’s perfect,” he said.

She chewed her lip. “Should I use the word shocking? I don’t want to tell the readers how to feel.”

“When she confessed, what was the first thing you heard?” he asked.

“Gasps,” she answered.

“There’s your shock,” he said.

Juliet had to concede that point. Ron almost didn’t believe her when she told him the story. The judge had barely gotten the words “How do you plead?” out before Meredith let out a wail like wounded animal and confessed to the whole gruesome thing. She sobbed that she was sorry, but she knew she had to be punished. She wasn’t safe. And truthfully, Juliet felt bad for her. It was truly one of the most pitiful things she’d ever witnessed.

But the one thing Juliet could never forget, the image that would stick with her for all her days, was the look on Peggy Lee’s parents’ faces. The Lees watched, dignified, proud, yet misty eyed as the person who killed their daughter begged for mercy. Their grief was profoundly felt, despite their stately manner. They said nothing. They did nothing. And they spoke to no one upon their exit from the courtroom.

“Jules?”

Ron’s voice brought her back to the present, his hand on her shoulder making her turn to look at him.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “Just...it’s so unfair. If anyone had a right to be screaming and crying it was the parents.”

“They must be very English,” he said.

“Oh, they were proper English,” she agreed. “Stiff upper lips and all. The mother did at one point hide her face in the father’s arm, but other than that, they were stoic.”

“Thinking about including that in your story?” he wondered.

“God, no,” she replied. “I’ll mention that they were there and offered no comments, but this isn’t that kind of article.”

“Just the facts, huh?”

“As usual.”

“Juliet.”

“Yeah?”

“The article’s gonna be great,” he said.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because you care this much,” he said. He accentuated the point with a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got a staff meeting. Are you alright here?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for being so patient with me.”

He kissed her again. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you later, Ron,” she returned.

With that, he left. Juliet started trying to condense the lead again, still feeling like it was too long. There had to be a better summary. But it was a lot to try and fit into one sentence, so she resigned herself to making it more than one line. She hadn’t chosen a headline yet, either, but she usually liked to write the article first. That way she could pick out the singular most newsworthy part and headline with that. As she organized further, the phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Juliet, it’s Lottie.”

“Hey, Lottie, how are you?” Juliet asked.

“Fine, same as usual,” Lottie returned. “Otis just rang and told me about the trial. I hope you’re hard at work.”

“Absolutely,” Juliet assured her. “I’ve nearly got the lead down. I’ve just got to get the facts organized. I’m thinking of doing a follow up story about the shortcomings of Operation Pied Piper, since Cooper’s little tidbit did prove to be true.”

Sad as it was, Harvey Cooper was right. There was no process for vetting the families agreeing to take the children. The committee had been in such a hurry to evacuate, they had not even considered that some children could end up in more danger than they were at home in the cities. Juliet found the whole thing fascinating, and it could open up a conversation about war time protocol - be meticulous or swift?

“I think that’ll be fine,” Lottie said. “But have you gotten any war news? I know I wasn’t enthusiastic about it initially, but you’re the only reporter I’ve got with the Airborne.”

Juliet bit her lip. While the prospect of war news had originally driven her to accept the Peggy Lee story, she found herself conflicted about it now. Her relationship with Ron threw a wrench in it.

“I think it’s a conflict of interest for me to cover the Airborne,” she said.

She could practically hear Lottie’s eyes roll. “Oh, come on, Juliet, don’t be absurd.”

“It isn’t right, Lottie!” Juliet insisted. “I’m in an intimate relationship with one of the soldiers, there’s no freeing me from bias there.”

“You could use it to your advantage,” Lottie said. “Obviously, you can’t use him as a source, but couldn’t he lead you to the right person?”

“I can’t ask that of him,” Juliet said. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea?”

It was something Juliet had already put a lot of thought into. As badly as she wanted to cover the war - and it did seem like things were ramping up even more in Aldbourne - she was hesitant. She had actually considered asking Ron for a source and then immediately hated herself for it. She would not use her relationship to get ahead in her job. She couldn’t. It just wasn’t right, simple as that.

“That I’m using him,” Juliet explained. “If I ask him to get me a source, he might worry that it’s the reason I entered the relationship, and that’s not the case.”

Lottie sighed. “So, you just want to give up on covering the war?”

“I didn’t say that,” Juliet returned. “I’d be happy to cover something else once I get back to London, but-”

“Forget it,” Lottie cut across her. “Just focus on the trial for now and then Pied Piper, if that’s what you want.”

“Lottie -”

“Good afternoon, Juliet,” Lottie said harshly, hanging up before Juliet could protest any further.

She sighed, hanging up as well, and sitting back in her chair. She had a feeling the conversation wasn’t quite over, but she’d hear more about it on her next trip home. For now, she wanted to focus on what happened at the trial. The sentencing would be in another few weeks, so she needed to get this done.

***

Ron was right of course. The article was published and the London Pursuit sold the most copies it had in years. It surprised Juliet a little, but perhaps people were tired of war news and what better than a dramatic murder trial for a change of pace? It was morbid, sure, but Juliet knew she’d handled it as well as she could.

Lottie called, absolutely elated by the circulation numbers. And honestly, Juliet was thrilled too. She found Ron later that day and leapt into his arms as a display of her unmitigated excitement. She’d done it, and done it well! It was cause for celebration. So they went to London for the weekend - staying with Nancy of course, since she would have had a fit at missing an opportunity to see Ron - and they went to a nice dinner, champagne and everything. Juliet could hardly believe her luck. Everything was going so perfectly.

And that night, as they lay together in the afterglow, she looked at his face and knew she loved him. The kind of love she read about in books and poetry. The kind that crooners sang about on the radio. She’d found it. It was scary enough to admit to herself, but she determined that she would - one day soon if the opportunity presented itself - admit it to him.

He caught her gazing at him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy you’re mine.”

***

The sentencing hearing was not as interesting as the trial itself, but Juliet was relieved to report that Meredith Fisher was going to prison for life. There would be no chance for parole, either. So justice was served.

However, Juliet couldn’t help but notice the look on Mr. Lee’s face. Mrs. Lee had not come for the sentencing, so it was just father. When the judge announced Meredith’s fate, Mr. Lee only closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He nodded, put a hand over his heart, and inhaled again. A single tear rolled down his cheek. It made Juliet look away so that he could have that moment for himself. To take in whatever feelings came to him. To remember Peggy and take some solace in that her killer was going away.

“I thought I’d be happier,” Juliet told Ron as they prepared for bed that night back at the Blue Boar. “But it still just feels...rotten.”

“Nothing can bring the girl back,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I know,” she replied. “But I just....I suppose you’re right. What else could anyone have hoped for in this situation?”

“Right,” he agreed.

“I’m also grateful we didn’t have to hear that lawyer make that ridiculous argument in a courtroom,” she said. “I don’t think I could bear the looks on the parents’ faces at that.”

“That would have been awful,” he said.

“Even so, it feels rather anticlimactic,” she said. “Especially for the prosecution who spent months putting everything together.”

“They still got the result they wanted,” he pointed out. “So what does it matter?

She shrugged at that. She still felt unsatisfied, as if there was something more to be done. Even though logically, she knew there wasn’t. She would write an update for the paper, and that would really be the end of it. That was when it hit her. What was really upsetting her was that now that this was over, there was no more reason for her to be in Aldbourne. Especially now that she didn’t want to cover the Airborne. It meant that she would go home to London, in turn reducing her time with Ron significantly. And that was a dreadful thought.

***

“What do you mean you aren’t coming back to London?” Lottie cried through the phone. “What about the Pied Piper story?”

“I reckon it can wait,” Juliet said, entirely unconvincing, but she hoped Lottie was buying it. Her reasons for remaining in Aldbourne had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with the man she was in love with. “And maybe with some time, I can find my own sources on war news.”

Lottie remained silent for several minutes. “So, you’ve just changed your mind all of a sudden about covering the Airborne?”

“Not completely,” Juliet lied. “I...I’m just not sure I’m quite finished here. And what if there’s something else about the Peggy Lee story that comes up? I could -”

“Give it a rest, Juliet,” Lottie groaned. “I know you want to stay for your boyfriend.”

“That’s not -”

Lottie cut across her protests. “Please do not insult my intelligence by suggesting otherwise. You want to be near him.”

“You don’t sound quite as sympathetic as I hoped,” Juliet said, giving in.

“You have a life in London, Juliet!” Lottie reminded her harshly. “You have a job to do, your mother is here, and you want to put everything on hold for some man?”

“He’s not just some man!” Juliet argued indignantly. “He’s...different from any man I’ve ever known. And what we have means more to me than anything I’ve ever known.”

She glanced down at the necklace that sparkled against her skin. A constant reminder of how much she meant to him as well.

“Oh, come off of your cloud, will you?” Lottie snapped.

“Lottie,” Juliet said seriously. “The whole time I was with Arthur, did you ever know me to put him before work? Or my family?”

“No, so why is this Ron fellow -”

“Because it is different,” Juliet emphasized. “This is it, Lottie. He’s the one.”

That seemed to stump her. “Has he...proposed?”

“No, he hasn’t,” Juliet said. “I don’t even care if he does.”

Lottie scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t just carry on living in sin.”

Juliet rolled her eyes. “Could you please pay attention to what's important here? There’s a man in my life who I genuinely see a happy future with and I just...I want to focus on that. Is that so wrong?”

“I suppose not,” Lottie sighed, and Juliet inwardly celebrated a moment of victory. “But I can’t pay you if you aren’t working. At least be making the proper phone calls to follow this Pied Piper story. Conduct interviews of other families there who have taken in children from the cities. Part of the story is there if you know where to look.”

“No problem,” Juliet said. “You’ll be glad to know I’ve already begun. I’ve got an interview with the Barnes family next week, who are housing a little girl. I’ll ask them about how the process went for them.”

“Perfect,” Lottie said. She paused for a beat. “And, Juliet?”

“Yes?”

“I really am happy for you.”

Juliet smiled softly. “Thank you, Lottie.”

***

Spring fully thawed the winter out by the time April arrived. Aldbourne was rather charming in bloom. But Juliet wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or that she was in love. She found herself humming a lot more than she used to - these days she didn’t even need food to start a merry tune in the back of her throat. She had more energy, despite spending rather long nights in Ron’s arms. And she found her enthusiasm for work - even though her priority shifted - a great deal easier to come by as well.

The interview with the Barnes family went splendidly. They were also housing a couple of lieutenants from the Airborne, though they were not in Ron’s company. Juliet only exchanged brief greetings with them, as they were heading to work just as she was entering the house. She nearly melted at the connection they had formed with the girl - Ann - which was clear in their goodbyes to her for the day. She seemed particularly close to the tall redhead.

Juliet told Ron about it that evening over drinks.

“Yeah, that’s Winters and Welsh,” he told her. “Good officers.”

“Do they spend much time here?” she wondered, indicating the Blue Boar.

“Welsh does, but Winters doesn’t drink,” he said. “He spends most nights there with the family.”

“I can tell,” she said. “I mean, it was seriously precious. She hugged his knees and he patted her on the head and I think I fell a little bit in love with him for a moment.”

He scoffed. “Good luck, I think he has a girlfriend.”

“Has he?” she questioned.

“Yeah, the nurse,” he said. “She works for the regiment.”

“You lot have your own nurse?”

“She’s got some connection to Colonel Sink,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never actually met her.”

“And what about the other chap?” she asked. “Welsh?”

“He’s engaged,” he told her. “Her name’s Kitty.”

“You know that but not the name of the nurse?” she questioned.

“I only know because Harry never shuts up about her,” he said. “The whole regiment knows at this point. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Krauts knew.”

She giggled. “I think that’s sweet.”

“It’s obnoxious.”

“You mean, you don’t brag about me to the whole regiment?” she teased. “Romance is dead.”

“Sorry for your loss,” he retorted as he took a swig of his drink.

“Not as sorry as I am,” she returned. “Now I’ll have to spend God knows how many hours in mourning.”

“At least you look good in black,” he said.

“My saving grace,” she agreed with a smile. She paused for a beat. “Seriously, you don’t talk about me at all?”

“I do if you come up,” he told her.

“And what do you say?” she wondered.

“Whatever’s relevant,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer not to broadcast my personal life,” he said. “All they need to know is that you’re mine.”

She smiled as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “That’s true.”

***

April was drawing to a close. Juliet stood in her room, preparing to go and interview another Aldbourne family about their process in fostering a child from London. These interviews were restoring the bit of faith she’d lost in covering Peggy’s story because most of the families were very kind, and doted on the children. They were proud of doing what they could to ensure the future of England. And the children were mostly happy. What happened to Peggy was a tragedy and an outlier.

She was just getting ready to leave when Ron entered her room. A grim shadow of doubt on his features made her smile disappear as fast as it had come. Something was wrong. He definitely had bad news.

“We’re moving out,” he told her.

She had expected this at some point, but she still blinked in surprise. Her shoulders drooped as the reality of it percolated through her.

“Oh,” she said. “Well...when?”

He hesitated. “This is off the record -”

She scowled at him, momentarily offended that he felt the need to clarify.

“Everything between us is protected, Ron,” she said sharply. “You and I are always off the record unless stated otherwise.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly, picking up on her tone. “I know that, I just -”

“When?” she demanded again.

“End of May,” he said. “I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

The if hung in the air, but remained unsaid. This was it. The moment she had been dreading since she met him. Well, maybe not that long, but since they had started getting to know each other there in Aldbourne. The war was taking him from her, like it took everything.

“I see…” she trailed off, her annoyance easing up. That was sooner than she had hoped and she didn’t want to waste any precious time being angry at him. “Um...where - wait, I can’t ask you that.” She bit her lip. “When - oh, no, you’ve just told me, that’s right -”

“Juliet.”

“Yes?”

“Wait for me.”

Once again, Ron failed to disappoint her. Despite all the reassurance, she worried that when they shipped out, he would take the opportunity to break it off with her. Instead, he was asking - in his way - for a commitment from her. She held his gaze for a long moment, waiting for him to say more. But he didn’t.

“You really want to stay together?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said assuredly.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed, and she threw herself into his arms for a kiss.

He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his lips fiery and desperate against hers. As if he were leaving the following morning instead of a couple of weeks. But Juliet wanted the intensity. She wanted to savor every touch, every kiss, every moment she had before he was gone. She also wanted to let him know that she absolutely would wait for him. She would do anything he asked of her. She just wanted him. Forever, if possible. And if the war robbed her of that, she would at least have the memories of kisses like these. Of nights in his arms. Of his unwavering dedication to her.

***

The arrangements were made for Juliet to return to London once Ron and the rest of the Airborne were off. On his final morning in Aldbourne, they of course made love again, only it was the after that they relished even more. Juliet etched into her brain the feeling of his embrace, the warmth of his skin, the sound of his voice. She wished desperately that she could freeze time and hold onto him for just a little longer. She had found something so wonderful and now it was being dragged away from her.

“Jules,” he said, voice low as if there might be someone listening on the other side of the door.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to France,” he said.

She blinked and adjusted her position so she could look him in the face. “France?”

He nodded. “I wanted you to know.”

She couldn’t explain why that felt more intimate than anything they had just done in her bed.

“Why tell me now?” she asked, curious.

He swallowed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, but his arm gave her shoulders a squeeze.

“Trust,” he said.

She pressed her lips tenderly to his chest to let him know how much she appreciated his trust. There was no longer a need to specify on or off the record. His statements were privileged. Anything he told her would remain between them.

For a fleeting moment, she considered telling him right then that she loved him. Because if he was going to France, there was a chance he would never come back. And shouldn’t he know just in case? But her heart told her to play it safe. If she didn’t tell him now, perhaps whatever power there was would protect him enough so that she could say it later. If there were still things left to be said, hopefully that would keep him alive.

There were no guarantees, of course. All they had was each other and their promise.

That afternoon, the trucks began rumbling out of Aldbourne. Juliet walked Ron as far as she was allowed. Her chest felt tight as the impending goodbye hung in the air. She hated this. It was too painful. How could it be that the very war that brought them together would also be the reason for their parting? What was fair about that? Nothing, that’s what.

A kiss from Ron drew her out of her thoughts. He held her firmly against him, almost as if he were afraid she would disappear right out of his grasp. When they parted, they were both breathless.

“Be careful,” she said.

His eyes searched hers. “You too.”

Her brain was practically screaming at her to tell him now just what she felt. But she was too afraid. Too afraid it would doom him. Too afraid he wouldn’t say it back. Or even worse, say it only because of the passionate nature of the moment. It had to be when they weren’t so desperate. When they really meant it because whatever was coming was not a threat.

“I’ll write,” she told him.

“I’ll respond when I can,” he returned.

She nodded. Her throat was dry and thick. The lack of tears in her eyes surprised her. How could she not be crying when she could feel her heart breaking so badly? She kissed him again. Just to prolong the last moment where he was only hers.

“Stay safe,” she told him.

He nodded.

With one last kiss, they said goodbye without saying it. Juliet went to the train station and headed home to London. And Ron went to war.

#band of brothers #ron speirs #juliet fletcher #ron speirs x ofc #hbo war #you better you better you bet series #Easy Company #band of brothers fic #hbo war fic

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dothwrites · 5 years ago

Note

Cas using Enochian pick-up lines on oblivious Dean. Dean doesn't get them, Cas feels rejected each time, and Sammy is done with it all! Can I have that fic, pretty please?

ah, this has been sitting here for a WHILE, so i’m sorry that i’m trash

lost in translation

---

It begins when Dean is pathetically trying to impress his crush.

Or at least that would be Sam’s take, if Dean cared enough to ask him.

Dean would rather say that it began with a simple misunderstanding, one which could happen to anyone.

He doesn’t ask Cas’ opinion of the situation (and Cas would say that’s the whole crux of the problem).

Whoever has the correct perspective, no one would argue about the beginning of the affair. It starts one afternoon when Dean is contemplating switching Sam’s creamer with buttermilk, just for a break in the monotony. Cas is with him in the library, his customary suit and coat exchanged for a hoodie and a comfortable looking pair of jeans which Dean suspects used to belong to him (there’s something vaguely familiar about that hole in the knee, and it wouldn’t be the first time Cas has pilfered his room for clothing; several of Dean’s shirts have ended up upon the angel’s body. Cas always seems perplexed when Dean calls him on his thievery, plucking at the shirt with faint confusion--Oh this? I found this down in the laundry room a few days ago and thought it looked familiar, do you want it back? And the question is phrased so forlornly that Dean can’t help but allow Cas to steal another article of clothing out from under his very nose.). Cas dresses down these days. And slouches. Right now, his chin is in danger of disappearing into his chest. The sight delights Dean. There for a while, he hadn’t been sure Cas was capable of relaxing.

It’s an overwhelmingly quiet afternoon. It’s nice, because Dean loves to spend time with Cas when there’s no imminent blood or monsters on their horizons, but it’s also boring. Dean sneaks a glance at Cas over the top of his book. Cas seems perfectly content to sit all day reading some godawful thick, leather bound tome. Dean finds himself less than content, but he doesn’t want to leave Cas. He sighs, shifting in his seat as he pretends to read. After a few more minutes, he sighs again, this time with a little more spite in the sound.

(Dean’s about three seconds away from kicking his feet and whining I’m bored, but Cas doesn’t need to know that.)

Cas mutters under his breath. Dean recognizes the guttural syllables of Enochian, which is Cas’ go-to language for when he’s saying something hateful and he doesn’t want to get called out on it. Tough luck for him, though, because Dean’s heard one of those words enough to parse its meaning.

“Did you just call me stupid?” he demands, slapping his book down on the arm of the chair.

Castiel looks at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “You...understood that?” he asks. “You understand Enochian?”

Not in the slightest, is what Dean should say. He understands one word, and that’s only because Cas uses it enough as an insult that it managed to stick in his mind. But something that looks like fondness, and admiration, and other nice adjectives which Dean would like Cas to apply to him, shines at the edges of Cas’ eyes. So he rolls his eyes a little bit (the audacity of Cas! Asking him if he bothered to study something which was not strictly required!) and scoffs, “Uh, kind of hard not to at this point, you know, what with...” He waves his hand at Cas, hoping that the vagueness of the gesture will cover a multitude of sins.

And really, he should come clean. If the past fifteen years have taught him anything, it’s that nothing good comes from lying to your nearest and dearest. But this is just a little white lie. Like when he was sixteen and he told Brandy Fletcher he could play a rocking drum solo, because he wanted to impress her and there was no way he would ever be called upon to perform such a task. This is just a little fib, made so that Cas doesn’t think he’s a fucking idiot.

Plus, there’s something which looks horribly similar to gratitude shining in Cas’ eyes. The emotion brims over until those baby blues can hardly contain it, and Cas looks so goddamned happy. Dean’s not a monster. He’s not going to take that away from Cas just so he can come clean with a Gotcha! moment.

Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean.

Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish.

---

After that, things get a little weird. Considering Dean’s general life, that’s saying something.

Dean catches Cas looking at him more, like Cas is having a one-man staring contest with the side of his face. Cas staring at him is nothing to write home about, but his looks have gained new intensity. It makes Dean’s innards squirm with worry as well as something deeper. He’s not willing to examine that feeling any closer, though it is pleasant.

As if the soulful looks weren’t bad enough, there’s also the thoughtful slant of Cas’ eyes to worry about. Every time he looks at Dean, he looks like he’s working himself up to something momentous. Since momentous decrees from Cas usually come hand in hand with world-ending events and revelations, Dean thinks he can forgiven for dodging Cas’ presence.

It does him no good: the bunker, for all its space, is only so large in the end, and Cas was once a heavenly messenger who has the patience of millennia. Add that to the fact that Dean needs to eat at least twice a day, and the game of Cornering Dean becomes a game of cards, in which the deck is stacked firmly in Cas’ favor.

Dean sneaks into the kitchen sometime between midnight and two am. If Sam caught him, then he would get a talking-to about the most appropriate times to eat, better digestive function, and the ravages of heartburn in a man his age, but it’s not his brother sitting at the table when Dean flicks on the light.

It’s Cas, who blinks owlishly at him, before his face splits into his brightest smile.

(Cas’ brightest smile is an awkward, crooked little thing. On a regular human being it would be considered unbecoming. On Cas, it’s a thing of glory.)

“Dean,” Cas greets him. Hearing his voice in that low, rough voice never fails to send a little shiver down his spine, and today is no different. “This is an odd time for a snack.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, a little lamely. The shock of finding Cas in the kitchen has kind of killed his appetite, but it’s not like he can turn around and leave. “Just, you know, had a craving. Why were you here?”

Cas looks around the kitchen, his mouth pursed. “I like it here. It’s peaceful.”

Dean looks at him, waiting for the punchline. “You were sitting in the dark, dude.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t need lights to see in the dark,” Cas says, as though the knowledge that his best friend has some freaky see in the dark cat eye nonsense going on with him isn’t the weirdest thing Dean’s heard all day.

“Great.” Dean opens the fridge and pulls out a container at random. He spares one second to hope that Sam got rid of all the moldy food before he samples the contents. “Well, I think I’m going back to my room now.”

He wants to get out of here, not so much because he doesn’t want to talk to Cas (he has no problem with late-night chats with Cas, it’s just that he would prefer such chats take place in his room, preferably in his bed, preferably while both participants were significantly less dressed), but because Cas is starting to get that look again, like he’s getting ready to drop an atomic bomb’s worth of shit on Dean in the middle of the kitchen.

“Dean.” Cas stands up. He twists his fingers together before he realizes what he’s doing, and then places them flat against his thighs. He takes a deep breath. Before Dean can stop him, Cas opens his mouth.

Low, rolling syllables flow through the kitchen, the harsh notations of Enochian softened by Cas’ voice. There’s a question in Cas’ eyes, and Dean would answer it, if he only knew what Cas was asking.

The kitchen falls into silence. Dean gets the distinct impression that walking away is not the appropriate reaction. If only he knew what the appropriate reaction was.

He settles for plastering a fake ass smile on his face and loosing a brittle laugh which threatens to shatter the lighting fixtures. The corners of his mouth hurt from the wideness of his smile, but not even the small twinge of pain can take away from the brief flash of hurt in Cas’ eyes.

“Yeah. You bet.” Dean barely restrains himself from giving Cas a big thumbs up.

Cas’ face, if possible, turns even more disconsolate. Dean’s stomach twists at the sight.

This would be the correct moment to confess. Cas, I don’t have the faintest idea what you said, but I’d really like it if you could say it again in English, so that I could maybe comment on it. Sorry I’m such a jackass.

Dean does not confess. He reaches out and claps Cas on the shoulder, almost buckling Cas’ knees under the friendly contact. Dean almost stops, but he continues to his room, trying to erase the memory of Cas’ stricken face.

---

It gets worse.

Cas says something in Enochian to him the next morning, a tiny, hopeful smile darting across his face. Dean gives him a weak smile in return and tries not to focus on the longing, almost desperate tone of Cas’ voice. “Ok, Cas,” he says, when it becomes clear Cas is angling for something more than a smile that makes it look like he ate some bad tacos.

Cas takes him by the wrist. This time the syllables which come out of his mouth are almost frantic. His eyes are wide and imploring, and his voice cracks on the last word.

The truth, Dean. Tell him the truth.

“Look, I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says. Confronted by the weight of his failings and his inadequacies, he flees. All the while, he feels Cas’ eyes on his back.

---

It gets worse.

Cas continues to mutter Enochian at him, alternating between frustrated, hurt, mocking, and pleading inflections. Each time, Dean looks at him in a mixture of helplessness and shame.

The last time Cas tries, there’s a faint snap and tingle of grace curling around the room. Dean can taste it in the air, ozone and electricity, before it makes the lamp closest to him spark and pop. “Great, now you’re killing the furniture,” comes out of his mouth before he can stop it.

Cas recoils as though Dean reached out and slapped him. He says something else in Enochian, his voice small and defeated. He won’t even look at Dean.

If Dean were a better person, he would come clean. He would apologize to Cas and beg his forgiveness. He would take Cas’ scorn and irritation and lump it in with the rest of the shit that’s gone wrong with his life, and they would move past this.

Dean’s not a good person. Hell, he’s not even an okay person. He’s a piece of shit who got a hell of a lot luckier than he ever deserved, and Cas is just naive enough not to realize that.

---

It gets worse.

Sam walks into the library one afternoon with a dazed look on his face which means he’s just emerged from being caught deep in a book. He runs his hands through his hair and only then seems to realize that Dean and Cas are sitting at opposite ends of the library, deliberately ignoring each other. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut.

“You guys okay?” he asks, glancing back and forth between them.

“We’re good,” Dean says shortly, flipping a page of his book with unneeded aggression.

Sam flicks his eyes towards Castiel. Cas looks over the top of his book, his eyebrows twisted in a scowl. He mutters something most definitely not English under his breath, staring at Dean.

Sam chokes on nothing.

“You all right there, Sammy?” Dean glances at Sam, only to see that his brother’s face is bright red.

“Yeah, I’m great.”

Castiel says something else in Enochian, sounding more forlorn than angry. Dean didn’t think it was possible for his brother’s eyes to get any wider. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Dean asks. He keeps his eyes on Cas, but the question is meant for both of them.

“I think you two should really talk,” Sam says, looking back and forth between him and Cas. “I think you’re both missing some information.”

“What do you mean--” Dean pauses as the obvious answer comes to him. “Hold on. You can understand him?”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Castiel says, proving that he can speak English just damn fine when he wants to. Then, because Cas is an asshole whose main job is torturing Dean, he mutters something in Enochian.

Sam snorts.

If he didn’t know he would later regret it, Dean would put both of them in the ground.

“Well, if you want someone to talk to you, then knock it off and speak English!” Dean snaps. “I’ve got no idea why you’re babbling on like that and looking like I kicked your puppy when I don’t answer.”

Cas scowls, the full wrath of Heaven in his eyes. He starts what sounds like it will no doubt be a lengthy tirade (in Enochian of fucking course), before he’s interrupted by Sam.

“Dean doesn’t understand Enochian, Cas!” he shouts.

Two pairs of eyes snap to Sam. Dean’s are filled with furious betrayal, Cas’ with frustrated confusion. Sam ignores them both, rolling his own eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, look, I’m sorry to cut in your drama or whatever, and I’m sure that you two could keep this up for another three weeks, but I value my sanity. Dean, nut up and tell Cas you don’t speak Enochian. Cas, stop running into a brick wall and tell him what you want. I mean, good God, it’s like I have to do everything around here myself!”

Sam’s complaining never ceases as he peruses the shelves for the particular book he’s looking for. Both Dean and Cas are referred to multiple times as idiots, sometimes assholes, and once even idjits. Throughout his litany of abuse, Dean and Castiel refuse to look at each other, though Dean does feel a telltale prickling at the back of his neck several times. Every time he looks at Cas, however, the angel has his eyes firmly fixed on his book.

Dean wonders if Cas would get more pissed if he told him his book was upside down.

“You ever think about how much pain and agony you could save me if you two assholes would just talk to each other?” Sam finally snaps. Arms laden with books, he levels a fearsome glare at the both of them. “For homework, neither of you are coming out of this library until you’ve actually talked to each other like rational adults. And if you make any weird noises, I’m going to smother both of you in your sleep.”

He stalks out of the library, leaving Cas and Dean alone once more. Cas looks up from his book, finally realizing it’s upside-down, while Dean puts down his own book. They stare at each other for a long moment, then speak at once.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t understand Enochian?” “What were you trying to say to me?”

They stop. Dean swallows, gathers up all of his manly courage, and speaks.

“So what were you trying to say to me? It must have been pretty exciting to get Sammy clutching his pearls.”

Cas tilts his head. He considers Dean for a long moment before he crosses the space between them. Cas leans forward, putting his hands on the arms of Dean’s chair. The gesture boxes Dean in, a turn of events which Dean doesn’t struggle against.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t speak Enochian?”

Pinned beneath Cas’ gaze, Dean squirms uncomfortably. Now that it’s just him and Cas, his deception seems childish. Would it really have been the end of the world if he’d told Cas he was too stupid and selfish to learn his language? It would have just been another disappointment in Cas’ life, but has it been worth these past few days of being at odds with Cas?

Heat flushes along the bridge of Dean’s nose as he mutters, “I wanted you to think I was smart.”

Damn super-angelic hearing. Cas doesn’t miss a beat, though his forehead creases. “You wanted...what? Dean, you are smart.”

He says it so naturally, as though Dean doesn’t struggle over translations or speaking Latin or cross-referencing indexes or any of the thousand other things that seem to come naturally as breathing to Sam and Cas. “Yeah, sure, I’m a regular fucking genius,” Dean mumbles.

“You’re capable of finding the problem with a faulty engine with a single look. You built your own EMF meter out of a spare Walkman. Despite your efforts to hide it, you’re very well-read, and you have an innate understanding of some fairly complicated mathematics. I’m not sure exactly what humans qualify as intelligent, but I feel as though all of those skills count.”

Dean knows his whole face is red. Heat prickles along the tips of his ears and down his neck. “Jesus, Cas,” he mutters. Unable to withstand the force of those blue eyes, he darts his glance down towards the floor. “Most people don’t start sweet talking until the third date.”

“Well, I’m an angel,” Castiel says, smugly, as though that solves every argument (not a bad strategy; that line’s worked for Cas for years. What else can you say after that?).

“All right, I answered yours, now you answer mine. What were you trying to say to me?”

Amazingly, Cas’ cheeks color.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean wheedles, when Cas doesn’t immediately answer. “I told you mine.”

Cas looks off to the side. He actually shuffles his feet before he answers, “It was just a thought. I thought, maybe, we could...Never mind. It was stupid.” He looks back at Dean and rolls his eyes, showing how ridiculous he finds this whole trial. “I guess, roughly translated, it would amount of something like ‘If only he were as decisive as he is pretty, then there would be no problem’.” He forces a weak laugh. “I said it in the heat of the moment. I was frustrated.”

Dean blinks in astonishment. Only one fact has managed to slip through the tangle of Cas’s words. “You think I’m pretty?”

Castiel’s blush deepens. “Anyone who has eyes would think that,” he says, a little roughly.

An automatic flush spreads across Dean’s cheeks, but he’s able to ignore that. He’s much more interested in what else Cas might have been telling him. “And what was something else you said?”

Cas coughs. “’Your eyes are bright as the sunrise, yet they fail to see what is in front of them’,” he says. If possible, his already rough voice has deepened.

“Another.”

Cas doesn’t pretend coyness. “’You had my heart from the first time I saw your soul’,” he says, in a near whisper.

Dean can’t hold himself back. He snatches Cas’ hoodie in his hands and drags Cas down to his level. Cas lets out a surprised grunt before he gracefully collapses atop Dean. He’s barely managed to balance himself on Dean’s lap before Dean’s lip are on his.

Despite Dean’s rushed actions, the kiss is sweet and almost chaste. Cas’ lips are warm and chapped and utterly wonderful. At first, they’re stiff, but only for a second. Then Cas relaxes into the kiss, sighing happily as his hand cups Dean’s cheek. Cas’ stubble scratches against his chin. He’s going to bear the marks of Cas’ affection later, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

Cas parts from him, but not far. In fact, he’s close enough to Dean that when whispers a phrase in Enochian, his lips brush against Dean’s.

A shiver of delight runs down Dean’s spine. Now that he knows the gist of what Cas was trying to say to him, Enochian fills him with illicit glee. “What did that mean?”

Cas kisses him again, adding a cunning sweep of his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips. “’Of all the stars in the heavens, you shine the brightest’,” he translates, resting his forehead against Dean’s.

Heat floods through Dean once more. It’s everything he ever dreamed of hearing. It seems impossible that he could have it. There should be a rule against it. Dean Winchester doesn’t get what he wants.

Except, apparently, Dean Winchester does get what he wants, as evidenced by his lapful of angel murmuring Enochian endearments into his ear. “Hey Cas?” Dean tilts his head to catch Cas’ eye. “When I first saw you, sparks flew. How would you say that in Enochian?”

Cas thinks for a second before a smile spreads across his face. “I’ll teach you,” he promises, before he pulls Dean’s face towards him once more.

(Sam’s warning about making weird noises makes a lot more sense now.)

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #canonverse fic #fluff #dothwrites

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ninjakasuga · 3 years ago

Text

Sonally Celebration Week! Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Sonally Celebration Week, Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Day six, and admittedly the toughest piece to write since well, action scenes require more finesse than a domestic/slice of life story. The journey continues, and since my main focus mostly centers on Sonic and Sally’s post Robotnik/Eggman war peace time lives, I like to flex different events when the prompts give way to good inspiration. When one has to do with rescuing, well, let’s just say, if you’re dumb enough to harm someone’s children, woe comes to you in waves.

Day Six: Rescue.

It was supposed to have been a nice, pleasant day. Go to Spagonia with your big bro and his wife, enjoy flying in a fancy transport ship. While Sonic and Sally do the diplomatic thing, Sonia and Manic would watch J.C. and Kathy as they got to enjoy the city. See the sights, enjoy some ice cream and crepes from the city vendors, and just have a good old time! However, it wasn’t to last, the day was ruined when the sound of their ‘secret tail’ security guards crying out after being, well truthfully Sonia didn’t get to hear what exactly happened to their bodyguards (she hoped they were alive). All she heard was some muffled noise; some people screaming, and suddenly a van rolled up, and people in masks and jumpsuits grabbed and knocked them all out.

After coming too, she woke up to a bag over her head, only to have it torn off, and bright lights flashing in her face. A camera was aimed at them as some jerkoff using a voice-modulating helmet to obscure his identity was making some long list of demands and basically laid out they were collateral if those demands were not met. She tried to make everything out, but she was still groggy from waking up from whatever they used to knock her out. Manic was no better when she asked him if he gleaned anything she missed, sadly he was as groggy as she had been. She knew better than to ask the kids, clearly the six-year-olds were ‘terrified’ and wanted nothing more than to go home and jump into their parents arms.

Hell, the sixteen year old herself wanted to hug her parents just as badly. After that song and dance with the camera, all four were dragged to this cell of sorts, and left there with a guard detail. Whatever they wanted, they seemed to be serious, or at least wanted to come off that way. Her keen eye noticed some of their guards seemed unsettled. Like they were not keen they had kidnapped children. Maybe she, or Manic could use that? A little of the ol’ duo-charm to-.

“Auntie Sonia?” The small, childish voice snapped the older hedgehog out of her thoughts. Instantly her head snapped to the small child resting in her lap.

Forcing a calm smile, Sonia gently petted Kathleen’s soft auburn hair, which had blue tips at the end. Many thought it was dyed, but it was merely something that seemed to happen to both children, who inherited their Mother’s auburn tresses. Yet at the tips, bits of blue would form over time. No doubt the stubbornness of her big brother’s genes at work. Just hand to mingle with Sally’s.

“What’s up kiddo?” She asked her niece as she continued to stroke her head, and did her best to seem calm and collected. She and Manic were the adults here, they needed to be strong for these precious babies.

Green eyes look up, then over to the cell door, then back to Sonia’s own. “I wanna go home.” A simple request, but what child wouldn’t want to go home with this kind of situation abound? “Why do these guys wanna be mean to Mommy and Daddy?”

Another voice spoke up, the disdain high and snark on full. “Cuz they’re- and I quote.” Manic Hedgehog interjected, keeping his voice calm, and then upping the volume as he aimed his words at their guard. “A BUNCHA COWARDS WHO RESORT TO KIDNAPPING KIDS!!” He shouted with full malice at their captors, which made both children recoil, and his sister wince.

“Manic!” Hissed Sonia as she reached out and yanked at his ear. “Stop it! You’re just making it harder for J.C. and Kathy!” She growled at her brother, her eyes going to the door to their cell and sure enough their masked guard had turned to regard them. Thankfully he just turned away and went back to guarding.

“Well these bozos need to know what kind of d*ckless, wussies they are!” Retorted Manic, the green-dyed-furred hedgehog with a growl in his voice. Usually Manic was chill, and easy-going with a touch of mischief. He was running red right now, his niece, nephew and sister being put in danger can do that to someone. “Plus they’re f*cking idiots!”

“Manic, language!” Sonia chastised further as she covered his mouth with a hand. “Not that I disagree with you, but is antagonizing our captors the wisest idea?!”

Removing her hand from his mouth, Manic let out a dismissive snort. Yet his gaze softened some as he saw the kids were looking antsy again. “Maybe not, but seriously what kind of idiots kidnaps the Prince and Princess of a Kingdom? I mean, you want a war? Plus think of their parents, heroes of the war against the Big Robo and Big Eggy! I mean that’s a recipe for doom more than my Taco Tuesday Blowout Cookout.” The food wasn’t the issue, so much as the aftermath, but worth it in Manic’s eyes.

A small rumbling was heard and J.C. blushed as eyes rested on him. “...I’m hungry, and Uncle Manic makes great tacos.” He managed a smile, despite clearly still being scared.”

“Heheh, once we get out I’ll make us all some.” Manic promised as he lovingly scratched the back of his nephew’s ears. He did the same for Kathleen, not wanting her to feel left out. “Also, sorry about the yelling and language, I’m just pis-er-pointedly angry at the bad guys.”

“We’re ‘not’ the bad guys.” Their guard finally spoke, snorting loudly. The way he seemed to clutch his weapon and his covered tail (they seemed intent to make it hard to guess their species) twitch and move, hinted at his anger at such an accusation.

Despite having just chastised Manic for antagonizing their captors; Sonia found herself unable to not engage them. “Not from where we’re standing. Uncouth as my brother put it, he called it right. Nobody who kidnaps children are the good guys.”

“We’re not going to harm you, we’re just sending a message.” His steadfast tone, carried a firmness of whatever convictions he carried about their unknown ‘cause’.

“What sort of message? We’re kidnapping your kids, so we invite you to come kick our butts? Seriously, what else do you expect?” Sonia inquired, keeping her tone polite, hoping perhaps this guard might spill some kernel of information they could use. Then a thought occurred to her. “What happened to the bodyguards watching us? I heard them cry out, did you capture them too or did you kill them?”

“We shot them, but we didn’t shoot to kill.” The guard callously responded. “They should live.”

“Do you know that for a fact? Even a crippling gunshot can lead to death if they bleed out before they get help or the injury causes the right amount of trauma. I heard multiple muffled sounds… If they got shot multiple times that increases the chances they didn’t make it.” The magenta-dyed hedgehog stated with cold, medical fact. “They also had families, so nice job dipwad, you possibly widowed and orphaned two families.” It was petty, but seeing his body language shift and just slightly shake before firming back up gave Sonia a sense of satisfaction. “You could have used stun-blasters.”

The guard hissed back his reply, but she could tell he was trying to justify his words to himself. “You can’t silence stun-blasters.”

Rolling his eyes, Manic decided to chime in. “So you bozos prioritized not making noise, over making your little power grab as bloodless as possible.”

“If they die, our leaders will make it right, all of this has a purpose! It’s to make things better-!”

It wasn’t Sonia or Manic that cut the man off, but J.C.’s small but clearly angry voice. “So making Mr. Hunigan and Mrs. Fletcher dead is alright when you say so?” The boy’s fists clenched tightly. “They were nice people, and we know their kids, they’re our friends… you took their Dad n’ Mom from them you-you, j-jerk!”

“Gee, even the six year old can see it clear as day.” Sonia icily sneered at their captor, scooting closer she slid both her arms around her family and kept them close.

“Mommy, sh-she and Daddy are gonna find us.” Kathleen managed to speak up, wiping her eyes, like her brother managed the most fearsome glare she could. “They’ll find us and kick your butts! They’re heroes, they always save the day!”

Turning, the guard’s helmet, visor and cloth covering their mouth obscured whatever Mobian species they were. “Your parents are part of the problem! If not for the Acorn Kingdom’s meddling along with the other outsider nations, we wouldn’t need to do this!”

“Only meanies justify their actions by blaming others!” Humphed the young princess as she turned her head away, as if to utterly disregard her captor. Oh Sonia and Manic’s heart swelled.

“I gotta agree with Kathy here, sounds like blame-gaming here-.” Manic mused, only to be cut off by their clearly irate captor.

“If they hadn’t meddled with the trade tariffs making exporting goods harder, not to mention their invasive meddling with our affiliate cities-!”

A lightbulb went off in Sonia’s head. “Wait, wait, time out!” She put her hands together in the referee gesture to hopefully get a word in. “You guys are blaming them for the trade issues and the Acorn Kingdom’s presence in your sister cities? Um, dude, hoo boy, you are probably being played by whoever your leaders are.”

“Bite your tongue-!” “Okay you know what, screw that, and kids I’m sorry but-.” After giving her niece and nephew an apologetic look, she quickly sent her captor a fiery glare. “First off, F*CK you! Second, the Kingdom sent delegations to those cities BY REQUEST! The mayors asked for aid in looking into some oddities with exports from Spagonia going in and out because they realized something was hinky with the weird laws and micro-managing coming out of Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry. Any of your Minister’s calling the investigations meddling or preludes to occupation are trying to play the dodge game moron! Second of all, the tariff problem? I shouldn’t say this, but I love talking shop with my sis-in-law, and boy a lot of the issues stem from how they were set up, like someone ‘wanted’ the tariffs to cause issues and sow discord. It’s a big political set-up but my big-brained Sis likes big-brained chess and she’s onto some corruption from within Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry.”

She watched as the guard looked uneasy, and his compatriot to the far way seemed to be listening in as well and had lowered his weapon some. “That, that can’t be possible.”

Footsteps could be heard as another similarly dressed guard walked into view of the first one. “Ignore them comrade, they’re trying to unnerve you.” “What if it’s true our leaders are lying to us? Given who some of them are-.” “Shut your mouth before you give anything away!” The other, more burly guard hissed as he raised a gloved hand, poised to smack his comrade if he didn’t do as he said. With his associate cowed, he turned to the cell and pointed his weapon. “Shut your mouths or I might just have to shut it for you.”

Manic moved in front of his sister, nephew and niece, arms out. “Touch them buddy, and you and I are gonna tussle!”

“Uncle Manny don’t!” “D-don’t get hurt!” “Manny…” Sonia held the children close, but tried to soothe her brother. “Don’t, they’re clearly too deluded to listen.”

“You will see it is you who is delusional!” The burly captor spoke, with a zeal of a true-believer. “Once it’s clear your Queen and your treacherous nation are outed as the villains they are, things will become bet-.”

Suddenly the entire room rumbled, and the sound of muffled shouts, and fighting could be heard in the other room. All their captors turned toward the metal door just out of view of Sonia, Manic and the children. Suddenly the door flies off its hinges, slamming into the far guard who cried out in pain and terror as they are taken out. A familiar ‘rev up’ sound is heard and then a blue blur slams into the burly captor sending him flying. As the sounds of fists fly, another far off captor raises their weapon, only for the sound of jets to get clouder and a familiar southern drawl is heard shouting. “TAKE A NAP YA’ CREEP!” A blaster bolt is heard firing off screen. Soon a blue energy blast hits the captor, causing them to drop their weapon as the stun-bolt freezes their whole body. As another guard attempts to fight, the flying Rabbot zooms him and body-tackles the would-be-attacker, a loud, thick ‘crunch’ of metal hitting flesh is heard. Clearly a one-hit-KO.

The original guard readies their weapon, trying to pick a target, clearly panicking. “Ho-hold or I’ll shoot!”

*KER-SLICE!!*

Their weapon is cleaved in two, falling from their hands, and in the next half-second, the tip of the weapon responsible is held at their throat. This man finds himself looking into the very, angry blue eyes of the Queen of the Acorn Kingdom herself, Sally Acorn. Wielding an ornate sword with the crest of her family on the hilt, and ornate lines etched into the blade. For a second the guard swore the weapon’s blade glowed for a moment, but whatever the case, it was clear the Sword of Acorns (reforged and imbued with Sally’s residue Super energy) was capable of cutting quite nicely.

Her voice was ever commanding, calm and serene, yet deadly and potent. She was clearly angry, but using said anger as a laser-focused weapon instead of being consumed by it. For now.

“You will let my babies and my younger siblings out of that cell. Now, no questions. If you so much as dare do anything but I ask, you will regret it. Do not force me to spill blood before my children, because you WILL live to regret it.” She vowed.

“N’ she ain’t the only one you need ta’ worry about.” Uttered Bunnie Rabbot, as she got up from pummeling her foe into unconsciousness. She flexed both of her cybernetic arms which transformed into blaster mode on the right, and nasty energy axe on the left. “You further threaten my God-Children or Manny and Sonia’s well-being. I might just forget I’m a Southern Lady.” While plain and frank, there was a menace in her eyes mirroring Sally’s, and the hum of her weapons furthered showed she was not playing games.

A small ‘boom’ and a flash of blue from across the room, and the guard found Sonic the Hedgehog on the other side of him, arms crossed, and foot tapping rapidly. “Door, open, my kids and siblings safely in arms, now!’ He didn’t bother making threats, he didn’t need to.

The guard simply let out a pathetic sound, wet himself and passed out onto the floor.

Without a word, Sonic dug at their belt, found the key and quickly as he could unlocked the cell door, and threw it open. All anger, and intimidation left his face (as well as Sally and Bunnie who put away their weapons) as the look of a worried parent and brother overcame all else. “Are you four okay?! Did they hurt you any-?!” “DADDY, MOMMY!!” Instantly Kathleen, and J.C. dashed into the arms of their Father, with their Mother soon joining in the hug, checking them over.

“Oh my babies!” Sally clutched her family tightly, kissing the children all over their faces and tops of their heads, as she checked them for injuries. “It’s okay now, Daddy and Mommy are here, oh God I’m so sorry this happened, that we weren’t there to stop you from being taken.” She babbled, as the kept-in-check emotions burst from the dam she erected to focus on the rescue.

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry…” Sonic murmured, his heart still racing even with all his joy held firmly in his arms. Lifting his gaze, tear-stained he looked to his siblings worriedly. “How’re you two holding up? They didn’t hurt any of you did they?”

“Nah, they just… dragged us around at most.” Manic shrugged, but was clearly relieved this whole thing was over. As he stood he found his legs shaking, and leaned against his equally leg-shakey sister. “All that said, glad you guys found us so soon.” Moving closer, Bunnie shifted her arms, what was metal now, began to flash with energy and seemingly disassemble back to flesh and blood. The wonders of bio-nanite tech. Once her arms were organic again she pulled the two hedgehog siblings into a hug. “Sorry we didn’t get here sooner sugah, but we had to basically strong-arm some of the Spagonia government to give us the okay to act. Though once Sally n’ Sonic scared these bozos' supposed leaders into talkin’ they squealed like- well sumthin I can’t say within earshot of kiddos.”

Sonia let herself chuckle, relief and a sense of security flooding her being as she leaned into the hug. “So, lemme guess, the Trade Minister and his flunkies were the culprits?”

“Yeah, I mean we were gonna confront em’ with the evidence Nicole uncovered, but you all bein’ taken kinda forced our hands.” Bunnie further explained as she scratched the back of their ears soothingly. “U-Uncle Manny and Auntie Sonia, looked after us, we’re okay…” J.C. managed to speak once his throat wasn’t sore from crying (this time from happiness).

“Hmm-hmm, they’re the best as always!” Kathleen agreed, sniffling and wiping her eyes as she remained cocooned by her parents and brother.

Smiling, Sonic reached over and managed to give each of his younger siblings an affectionate arm-punch. “Somehow I knew they’d have it under control.” Well more hoped, but he didn’t want to devalue his sibling’s efforts. No if anything he wanted them to ride the pride of keeping themselves and the kids safe.

“Lucky for us, as Sonia called it, these guys were morons. Dangerous ones, but morons.” The green-furred hedgehog blew out a breath, and then he recalled something. “Um, ah, how’re Agent Fletcher and Hunigan?”

“Alive.” Sally replied, still nuzzling her children, still unwilling to let them go. Her own heartbeat was finally starting to calm down and the adrenaline high was crashing. “They were hurt badly, but both are tenacious and they got help just in time. They might have to retire from active duty early but we’ll be sure they’ll be looked after, their families too.”

“Oh thank goodness!” The two teens, and the younger children exclaimed, as joy at the news eased their hearts from the dread they felt prior.

Footsteps could be heard approaching, but the boot clomps’ were familiar. So no one tensed or got ready for another fight. Especially once Captain of the Royal Guard, Antoine D’Coolette emerged, wiping his sword blade clean with a cloth before sheathing it into its scabbard. “My Queen, ze fools have been disarmed, and rounded up. As you requested, we managed to take them all alive, if injured.” After a beat, he contemplated making a joke about some being ‘literally’ disarmed, but with the children there, he decided against it. “How are ze young ones?” He asked, decorum giving way to concerned God-Father, and as a fellow parent.

“Thankfully unhurt Sugah-Twan.” His wife replied, flashing a smile his way. “Where’s Tangle n’ Whisper?”

“Helping out Tails to ensure we didn’t miss anyone and secure the location.” Informed Antoine as he walked over, making sure all were fine, if to soothe his own fretful nature. They also will wish to zee’ that our rescuee’s are le’fine.”

Sniffing away the last of her tears, Kathleen looked up at her Mother. “Uncle Tails came too? I thought he was testing his new plane in the South Seas?”

“Once he heard the news, he jetted over as fast as he could and offered to help.” replied Sonic with a wide smirk of pride and relief for his ‘not-so-little’ bro. “Family sticks together, and well you guys are as much family as his own. Which by the way, I’m sure Tails will wanna set up a face-chat so Mina can see you’re all fine.”

“She is very fond of her biggest fans.” Chuckled Sally, who internally still found it ‘very’ weird, that Tails and Mina Mongoose hooked up. Their age gap wasn’t too bad, and clearly whatever happened to bring about their dating didn’t occur until Tais was eighteen/nineteen-ish. Then again he clearly had a thing for older women, at least his choices after Fiona Fox were an improved taste. As long as Mina was good to Tails, that was all she cared about, and they did seem like a good couple. Still weird but that was on her.

“Can we leave now?” J.C. asked softly looking up at both his parents hopefully.

“You got it son, we’ll juice n’ jam out of here and get you guys some food and tucked in for the night.”

“Can we have a sleepover in the hotel suite? Like all of us with blankets on the floor and pillows nests?” Asked Kathleen with big, hopefully eyes. A look her brother mirrored and nodded to her suggestion.

“Yeah, can we have a sleepover?!” Manic echoed, doing his best impersonation of the look.

“I don’t see why not, if everyone else is on board.” “Wouldn’t be hard for us all to fit in, big ol’ space, and like you could ask us to stay away after today.” Bunnie voiced her opinion with a warm smile at the children. Giving them assurance she was on board.

“Like the saying goes, the more the merrier.” Antoine stated to voice his blessing. “Plus I’m sure Bunnie and my own angels would love the idea as they too were worried about you four. As was your Nanny Miss Cream.” The coyote gently ruffled the hair of the two youngsters, his mind drifting to his children two years their senior. Yes, if they had been through this, he’d gladly acquiesce any whimsy they wanted within reason, and a sleepover to help soothe their nerves? A piece of cake.

Kathleen’s face fell as childish concern flooded her mind. “Oh no, that’s right, we were supposed to meet Jacque, Belle and Miss Cream after lunch…” “Hey they know we didn’t stand 'em’ up by choice.” Manic interjected as he flashed a smile and reached over to ruffle his niece’s cheek tufts.

“Let’s blow this pop stand, I want a hot bath, lots of bubbles and all the cheese cake…” Sonia muttered, feeling her own adrenaline rush and the weight of the whole ordeal finally sapping her energy.

“I hear that, let’s go home everyone.

#boundforfreedom #Sally Acorn #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic Archie-Comics Pre-SGW #fanfic #rescue #Sonally #Sonsal #Sonally celebration

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snlhostharry · 4 years ago

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to be determined / one

harry styles x reader friends with benefits au

soon after moving to new york, you meet harry styles at a party. you convince yourself that there’s nothing between the two of you until it becomes too intense to ignore. if you keep telling yourself that he doesn’t mean anything to you, does that make it true?

a/n: hi everyone! welcome to my first harry styles series. This originally started as a challenge for myself to try and write a harry fic inspired by taylor swift songs so that’s where the chapter titles come from, it’s kind of become something bigger than that but I figured I would keep the theme anyway

chapter 1: welcome to new york

The story starts in New York City.

A place written about in countless stories, about love, about heartbreak, about giving up, about standing tall, and about putting broken hearts into drawers and slamming them shut. It’s easy to say that writing another story about New York is beating a dead horse, throwing characters into the same tired old setting and letting them live out the writer's wildest daydream. But it’s never been about the city itself, it’s always been about the people. Something about the city always manages to be the perfect stomping ground for people, for characters to find each other in a whirlwind of A list parties and harsh billboard lights.

Speaking of which you are suddenly very sick of said harsh billboard lights in the middle of times square. As someone who has read (and written) countless articles describing times square as a flurry of activity but also with some kind of inherent magical appeal, the center of everything it’s own small utopia, you know that everyone who wrote that had to be aware of their own bullshit. It’s a nuanced way of tourist trapping, smart, albeit annoying on a variety of levels. A gimmick to get wide eyed little girls to stand in the middle of chaos and think that maybe they could carve out a place for themselves here.

You’re not trying to carve out a place for yourself, you’re trying to get to a stupid party. That and manage to not get any mud or other stains on this very nice dress you’re wearing. After what seems like forever of looking around and then suddenly looking back down at your phone just in case anyone wanted to even try to make eye contact with you, familiar faces appear out of the sea of people.

You greet them with a look of disappointment, “Two questions: why did you want to meet here-” a tourist elbows there way past you mid sentence, inadvertently proving your point, “-and why aren’t we just taking an uber?”

Molly, a tall black woman with objectively perfect hair (which is somehow gorgeous at all times), smiles and pats your shoulder like a kindergarten teacher, “I thought you would want to see Times Square.”

“I’ve seen it,” You shoot back, squinting again at the bright light coming from directly behind her head, and adjusting your jacket over your shoulders.

She squeezes your shoulder quickly, “And also to teach you that any time someone asks you to meet them in Times Square they’re fucking with you.”

“I figured you were fucking with me,” You tell her, “But thank you, god forbid the midwestern girl gets lost in Times Square waiting for someone to meet her who is obviously not coming.”

Molly laughs, and so do you. She looks down at her phone briefly, and then back at you, “To answer your question, why would anyone ever try to get an uber in the city at seven?”

You shrug, “What kind of self respecting party starts at eight?”

Fletcher, who’s name admittedly sounds like it should belong to anyone but him, finally stops staring at the large elmo mascot a few feet away and jumps into the conversation. “The kind with an age range, twenty somethings to late thirty somethings, who no longer have the energy to go from nine to six am.”

You sigh, “So boring then or-?”

“It’s about networking,” Molly says, “And also drinking, but mostly networking.”

“One of those unique business opportunities where you get free food, and possibly run into celebrities, singers mostly.”

You roll your eyes, “Wow you had me at various singers.”

“Says the woman who did an interview series with Tik Tok kids who all live in the same house,” Molly snips, half joking.

You shiver, half from the memories of that objectively terrible experience and half from a sudden breeze. Needless to say a significant portion of the reason why you’d left LA, was because their entertainment section was suddenly drifting away from profiles on actors and towards compilations of one minute videos made by sun tanned twenty somethings that somehow made them millions a year. That and after you’d spent two weeks semi living with ten of said twenty somethings for a story that had gotten a lot of buzz you never wanted to see anyone connected to the app ever again.

You give Molly your best ‘I’ll kill you’ smile, “You have to decide what you’re going to make fun of me for, is it the midwestern thing or is it the Tik Tok thing because one of those involves you admitting that I lived in Los Angeles for a year which means I’m perfectly capable of handling Times Square in all of it’s elmo public urinating glory.”

Fletcher looks again at the mascot who is not in fact publicly urinating, but honestly if it did suddenly start none of you would be surprised.

Molly looks at you for a second and says, “Both,” She looks at Fletcher.

He looks at you then back and Molly and nods, “Yeah. Both.”

You roll your eyes, “So can we get going now or-?”

The ride to the location Molly had all but refused to tell you was filled with talks of the impending deadlines on Monday for pieces that were anywhere from fifty to seventy percent finished. (your’s is at the lower end of the spectrum because there is only so much one person can write about an art installation that you found less insightful and more literal in the sense that the sculpture was literally just large amounts of clay pressed together in something that shouldn’t even be considered a shape with no metaphor or meaning behind it).

Soon enough you’re standing in what looks like mostly a residential neighborhood, with one precariously nice building in the middle of the block. You turn to Molly, “What the-?”

“Don’t finish that, just be patient,“ She interrupts as a response. “You are very impatient, you know that?”

“I’m a journalist,” You say, “I need to know all of the facts, including what the-” You take a breath, “-heck we’re doing in the middle of a nice little neighborhood, I was expecting something more Gossip Girland Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

“You’re definition of journalist is a lot looser than mine,” Molly says.

“Have you ever watched Gossip Girl? And isn’t Brooklyn Nine-Nine set in a precinct?” Fletcher adds.

“No, and Jake and Amy live in an apartment.”

“Beyond the fact that you’re a TV writer who has never watched Gossip Girl-” Fletcher sighs, even though you know he hasn’t watched it either beyond random snippets for a hit piece he wrote on it a few months back (not received well by the way), “The top floor of that building-” He points to the precariously nice building, “isn’t apartments its a loft, the floor is huge and only one house.”

You squint your eyes, “You’re kidding.”

“And the rest are offices?”

“How did they get zoning for that?”

They both shrug at the same time.

“Guys I want to know that if the police bust up this party, speaking of loose terms, I’m going to say that you dragged me here against my will.”

“I always knew you had good survival instincts.”

Molly turns to you, “Look when you’re getting special press access to the inside of the met gala you will be saying thank you Molly for bringing me here to catapult my career.”

“I have catapulted my own career thank you, the Tik Tok thing-” You shake your head, “Nevermind can we go in and stop loitering, then we’ll really get arrested.”

Party is a loose term but you learn that's not necessarily a bad thing. It’s not a rager with strobe lights and pumping bass but there is music playing albeit classical. People mill around at tables talking to one another, both twenty somethings and thirty somethings, you recognize a few faces from the media mostly. Fletcher was right about the food, and Molly was right about the drinks. You talk to a few people just to introduce yourself, a couple of them have heard of you, if only because your sudden cross country move to newspapers that aren’t necessarily competitors but might have a bit of a rivalry was something that people talked about. You’d made a couple thirty under thirty lists (no not the Forbes one) while in LA, which meant nothing to you if you were being completely honest but apparently meant things to other people which is fine.

When you’re finally exhausted at putting on a smile and nodding like you’re actively engaged in conversation and not thinking about something completely you hang out by the bar, not even drinking, just watching the room and all of the people there. You never wanted to get a reputation for being the quiet girl in the corner who just watched and listened because those kinds of people are always seen as weird or doormats or both but if you’re being honest this is where you’re the most comfortable. Making small talk just to get some opportunity down the road has never quite been your style.

You turn to go and find Molly when you suddenly come face to face with someone you recognise right away.

In that moment you realize that Taylor Swift was in fact onto something when she said, “Didn’t you flash your green eyes at me?” As weird as it is, the first thing you think when you meet Harry Styles is how that song is definitely about him, because those green eyes are striking and they are staring right at you.

“Hi,” He says, quick to the draw.

You take a step back just because of how close you are and say, “Hello.”

He looks at you like he’s thinking about something, and then holds out his hand, “Harry.”

“y/n,” You shake his hand. You recover from your initial shock quickly, and plaster on that fake conversation smile again, ready for whatever it is he wants to say, if anything. You came here to ‘network’ and you’re not sure what kind of advantage talking to Harry Styles could possibly give you, but for some reason you want to talk to him.

“What brings you here?” He asks you.

“My co-workers,” You shrug, “I would much rather be at home watching Succession on HBO and listening to the Beatles on my record player, like true people of culture would.”

He looks at you for a second, as you try to keep a straight face. Then he laughs, “Seriously?”

“Fuck no,” You say, “That’s my impression of the girl who meets Harry Styles at a party and has to convince him that she is not like all the other girls, she is the one for him.” You smile, “Was that good? Or should I try again?”

He thinks about it, “I think you should try again.”

“Because you think it’s wrong or because you think I’m funny?”

“What do you think?”

“Well if you think I’m funny, then I’ve already won, I’ve tricked you into thinking that I’m not like all the other girls with reverse psychology .”

“Are you screwing with me?”

“Of course I’m screwing with you,” You take a sip of your drink. “If I were home right now I would be playing Lizzo on my record player, and drinking something with a medically unsafe level of caffeine.” You pause, “What brings you here?”

“Honestly,” He looks out over the room, “I thought that this was going to be a much cooler party. Instead it’s just a bunch of reporters, and editors and media people.”

“Who are inherent mood killers?” You ask.

He narrows his eyes at you, “Am I allowed to say yes to that?”

“You can do whatever you want,” You tease him, “You’re Harry Styles, who am I to tell you what to say?”

“I feel like it was a trick question, which means that you are also a reporter.”

You laugh again, “That was funny, I’m going to write that down for my story. ‘Harry is genuinely funny which he tries to use to make up for the lack of small talk abilities’.”

“You’re screwing with me again.”

“Of course I am,” You say, “I work in the arts section of the Times, well not the actual art anymore but the movies and television.”

“TV critic?” He says, “So you’re harsh.”

“TV critics are just harsh for attention, I don’t need to be because no movie snob or well meaning director is going to go to the Times to see what we thought of any given movie. I write honestly, sometimes under the influence of caffeine and try to contain my excitement at narratively unnecessary plot twists.” You explain, “That and I get paid to watch TV, and usually private screenings of movies.”

He leans against the bar a sign that he doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon. You’re not going to say that you’re so awestruck by a celebrity that you have no idea what to say, or that he’s intimidating you but your hand shakes just a little as you clutch your fingers around the glass because he’s objectively attractive. Objectively attractive in the way that if he were on a dating app you would swipe yes and then put a lot of pressure on yourself to be funny and relatable even though you know that you don’t need him.

“What did you think of Dunkirk?”

“Oh!” You forgot that he acted, “That was before my time. I was working at the LA Times doing the music section then I think.” You know what he’s going to say next, “And before you ask yes there is a piece still posted of me reviewing your debut album. I think I reached out to get an interview with you, but I was suspiciously declined.” He looks embarrassed, “I was like under five years out of college I would’ve declined me too. They only gave me the story because it was the time where people weren’t sure that ex boyband members could make objectively good albums that meant something.”

He tilts his head to the side for a second, “And? Can they?”

“I’m in no place to make a generalization,” You say, “But I think you did. Admittedly that album was something, very intimate.”

“I don’t know if I should be taking that as a compliment.”

“I don’t want to give you a compliment because some people have a hard time with them, and this will get very awkward very fast. No shame, personally I have no mechanism to take compliments on my writing.”

He laughs, “I think I can take it.”

“Hmm.. okay,” You take another step back, “Okay are you sure you're ready?”

“Yes.”

“I think the entire album was very good, very unexpectedly good or at least I didn’t expect it to be. It was very open in that way that songs are vulnerable but still leave enough mystery that your fans don’t think you're a shitty person and I really like meet me in the hallway,” You say quickly, “In fact I listened to it just yesterday when I was working.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and then fake sighs, “See I don’t think that counts because it was more of a backhanded compliment.”

“What?”

“You said you didn’t expect it to be good, that’s not really a compliment then-”

“I was saying it pleasantly surprised me,” You say, throwing your hands in the air in mock annoyance. “You surprise me, Harry.” He doesn’t say anything, and for a minute neither do you, but you snap back to life just in time to say, “Is that compliment enough to embarrass you?”

He shrugs, but you know he’s messing with you. “It’s something but I don’t know if it’s really doing it for me.”

“You are impossible, just another out of touch celebrity, is nothing ever good enough for you people?” It’s by now that you realize that you inadvertently closed the gap between the two of you, and you’re standing very close.

He seems to realize this at the same time as you, “I-”

“Are you going to ask me to have sex with you?” You deadpan.

“What?” He looks offended for a second, “No.”

“I had to ask,” You tell him, “It’s happened before.”

“I was going to ask you for your number.”

“See usually when a guy asks me that they’re asking so-”

“It’s not for that.”

“Then what’s it for?”

He looks at you with something in his eyes that you don’t know the meaning of, “In case you want to do an interview, so that they don’t reject you this time.”

You know that’s not it, but you give it to him anyway because he’s Harry Styles (which yes is not a valid reason but this ‘party’ is very boring and this is the most interesting thing to happen to you in at least the past week). It takes you a minute to remember which one is your real number and which one is the fake number you give off if a guy is asking because he wants a booty call, but you eventually give it to him. Then you scurry off with a quick goodbye when you realize how late it is, and how you do have work to do. There’s a new episode of Big Little Lies out tomorrow and you don’t understand why but people are very into the show, and very into your episode recaps.

You corner Molly away from some guy you think might have actually been able to get her press access to the Met Gala and remind her that she also has a deadline tomorrow. The two of you go off to look for Fletcher and find him very close to sealing the deal with an objectively pretty girl, but you politely remind him that he has work to do and is very busy. The girl looks sad but let’s him go without much whining. You would’ve understood if she tried to get him to stay with her, he’s a little bit shorter than Molly but to be fair Molly is above averagely tall, and is nice and fit and has brown curly hair which you know from personal experience is sometimes just kryptonite. (you’ve kissed Fletcher before, long story, and can also say he’s on your top list of good kissers as well right up there with a guy you hooked up with in LA only to realize later that he was Robert Pattinson).

Somehow the three of you are only able to make it back to your apartment. So the night ends with Molly and Fletcher in the living room on the couch and in a sleeping bag respectively, and you are comfortably in your bed. Your phone sits on your nightstand, suspiciously silent. You’re not waiting for Harry Styles to call you, nope, definitely not.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #my writing

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victimeyez · 4 years ago

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Buck and Fletcher 2: Electric Boogaloo

Fanfic for @knivestothroats In The Woods Somewhere - click for masterlist

This one is actually so long I had to break it into parts, tags will be listed at the beginning of each chapter for the chapter, and links to the other parts here:

Part 1: X Part 2: X Part 3: Here Part 4: X Part 5: X

Buck becomes the unwilling guinea pig for the trainees while Fletcher is away.

Tags: Captive whumpee, multiple whumpers, intimate whumper, suggestive behavior/jokes, electricity torture, graphic depictions of torture, the trainees are super fun to write, bondage, being dragged/manhandled, gags, not medically accurate don’t @ me

Buck did his best, but he was easily captured by Petrova and the others. He screamed into his pillow while they bound his arms behind him, tape wrapped in a thick layer from his wrists to his elbows, wrenching his shoulders back painfully and holding them there.

Scared, angry tears wet the pillow beneath him as he sobbed. As ridiculous as it was, all he could think about was how incredibly betrayed he felt. He had asked Fletcher nicely, Fletcher had agreed, locked him in, and then...what, gave them the key anyways? Fletcher could do whatever they wanted to to him with absolutely no repercussions, why even bother lying to him? Whenever he thought he might have a clue about Fletcher, they turned around and confused him all over again. Buck seemed to always be wrong about them - and it always got him hurt.

Dayal finished binding him, straddling his ass in the bed and enjoying the humiliating position a little too much. He ground his hips against Buck’s ass, making the prone man whimper into his bed.

“Come on Buck, don’t you wanna play?”

Buck felt hands sink into the mattress on both sides as Dayal leaned in, nuzzling into his hair, before Petrova swatted him.

“No time for that, we have experiment to do.”

Dayal chuckled but pulled away, hopping off Buck.

“Another time then, if you’re lucky.”

“Gross,” De Luca commented helpfully.

“Shut up and help me.”

In their greatest display of teamwork yet, they dragged a squirming Buck out of the room and all the way into the kitchen.

Buck was already getting tired from fighting, but his vigor renewed when he saw the car battery on the table.

He almost got away for a moment, trying to scramble to his feet to run, but a hard kick to the crotch brought him back to the ground.

“Nice,” said Petrova.

“Thanks,” O’Connor replied, a little proud.

They cuffed him to one of the sturdier wooden chairs, sat beside the car battery on the table. A pair of metal clamps were already attached to the battery, the other end resting on a ceramic heat pad, the kind you put a hot pot onto so it doesn’t damage the table. Buck almost laughed at the absurdity, but was quickly distracted by De Luca putting on a pair of thick gloves.

“Okay Buck, we are going to shock you now, and you tell us how you feel, okay?”

“Start low, if we start too high he won’t be any good for us,” O’Connor instructed, flipping open a small notebook and producing a pen.

De Luca picked up the clamps, opening and closing them absently for a moment in thought.

“Should we put a wallet in his mouth or something? Can’t he bite his tongue?”

“Eh, I think that’s for seizures,” Dayal replied.

“What’s the difference?” Perova interjected, her eyebrows quirked.

“You know, you’re not actually supposed to put a wallet in someone’s mouth if they’re having a seizure? You’re just supposed to hold them still on the ground and like, cradle their head, kinda.” O’Connor mused, nibbling the tip of her pen.

“Well, if he bites off his tongue, Fletcher might get mad.” De Luca looked at Buck seemingly deep in thought.

“I think we should do it just in case, just when I’m shocking him.”

“Well I’m not putting my wallet in his mouth, he’ll drool all over it.”

“Dayal could volunteer his dick,” De Luca mused, and Dayal flipped him off from across the table.

“Just use a dishcloth or something, let’s do this.” Perova sounded exasperated.

Dayal hopped up and grabbed the dish towel from the handle of the oven, holding it taught between his fists like a garroting wire as he walked towards Buck, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

“Open up, Buckaroo.”

Buck, who had largely been in shock, finally started to process what was about to happen and moaned in fear as Dayal approached.

“No, please, come on - did Fletcher put you up to this? You can - can’t you look this stuff up online?!”

He resisted opening his mouth for Dayal, who shrugged to their little audience before freeing a hand, pinching the soft spots of Buck’s jaw in one hand to force it open. Buck hissed in pain but couldn’t resist, and as soon as his mouth cracked open Dayal stuffed it full of dish towel until he gagged.

“You’ll keep that there if you know what’s good for you.”

Buck just moaned, tears trickling down the sides of his face. His mouth was stuffed too full, his teeth forced apart, and it hurt his jaw. He tried to move it a little with his tongue to a more comfortable position, but it only made him choke.

“Start low, only like, 9 Volts.”

O’Connor scribbled it down, and looked up expectantly at De Luca, who adjusted the voltmeter.

Buck screamed into his gag when De Luca held up a knife, but he just rolled his eyes and split Buck’s shirt down the middle, exposing him. With his shoulders forced back, Buck was arched forward, and he felt unbearably vulnerable.

Dayal picked up the clamps, touching them together to produce a small spark that made Buck flinch.

“Uhh...take one, I guess.” He touched the clamps to Buck’s chest and he jerked, forcing out a cry into his makeshift gag, and after a moment the clamps were pulled away. Dayal pulled the gag back out, letting him take in a shaky breath.

“How did that feel? Also, on a scale of one to ten, how much did that hurt?”

Buck flexed his sore jaw, trying to will his frantic heartbeat to slow.

“Come on Buck, don’t be a bitch about it.” De Luca rolled his eyes.

Buck stayed silent. He didn’t want to participate in their little experiment any more than he already had to.

Petrova tapped her fingers on the table impatiently.

“You know Buck, if you not tell us, then we can skip to higher voltages.”

Buck swallowed, his mouth impossibly dry.

“It was...uncomfortable, not so much very painful but very...unpleasant,” Buck closed his eyes, fighting back a sob.

O’Connor scribbled down a note and then looked up, nodding to De Luca.

“Let’s try 12 next.”

Buck opened his mouth to protest, but Dayal took the opportunity and stuffed the towel back in. De Luca adjusted the voltage again and pressed the clamps to Buck’s chest with little flourish.

Buck jolted hard, squeezing his eyes shut hard. Every muscle in his body tightened painfully and buzzed, and there was a hot pain where the clamps touched him. When they pulled away and the towel was removed, he opened his eyes again, blinking painful tears from them

“How did that feel?”

Buck’s body felt weak and twitchy. It was deeply uncomfortable, and he pressed his feet hard against the floor just to try to get some feeling in them.

“Buck.”

“Tingles...tingly? It hurts….my muscles are going...weak.” Trying to talk made his teeth feel like they were buzzing.

He could hear O’Connor’s pen scratching across the paper.

“And on a scale of one to ten?”

“Could I get some water?” His mouth was so dry.

“One to ten, then you can have some water.”

“Ten like….worst pain ever?”

O’Connor tapped the end of her pen against her lips.

“Hmm...ten like, I would tell you anything you wanted to know to get you to stop.”

“Ten.”

De Luca snorted and Petrova rolled her eyes.

“Ten like, I’d rather get stabbed than do that again. And that is real choice,” Petrova offered.

Buck shut his eyes tight until he thought he could see little flashes of light behind them.

“F...five, maybe?”

Petrova nodded and a cup of water was tipped to his lips, making him splutter at first before he drank deeply. He emptied it and whined when Dayal took the cup away.

“You’ll get another once you take 120.”

De Luca prodded at Buck’s chest with a gloved finger, making him gasp in pain.

“He’s pretty pinked here, a decent burn. Might blister.”

O’Connor nodded and wrote some more on her pad, before flipping to a new page.

“Let’s jump to 30, I don’t want this to take all day.”

Buck fought the gag again, but didn’t have much strength and Dayal got his way even easier than before.

“Take three.”

#knivestothroats #in the woods somewhere #fanfic #captive whumpee #shock torture #electric torture #whump

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ferbmanofactionfletcher · 4 years ago

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Interview Process || The Flynn-Fletcher’s

Candace, Phineas, and Ferb sit down to interview Andrea on why she should get the chance to fill the roll she came to town for.

[TW: bad parenting, past trauma related to bad parenting]

@oh-phineas @i-want-candy

FERB

A time and place had been agreed upon for the interview of Andrea Martin. (Their house, afternoon.)

Ferb had no idea how to go about it and proceeded to spend the time leading up to it researching the interview process from the interviewer’s perspective. There were so many techniques, ranging from that of an employer looking to learn about a person that best suited a job to that of a screenwriter looking for research on a subject. He didn’t know which one to employ here since— well he didn’t know what exactly they were interviewing her for. What position was she wanting to take up?

A mother? She already had kids that she had a direct relationship to. And was he supposed to meet them? His half siblings? Or her husband? His step-father? What about—?

And he mostly got overwhelmed when he thought about it as one question would branch off into an infinite tree diagram. Though to anyone looking at him, he still looked like Ferb always did. Neutral and steady.

There were questions he had prepared but overall, didn’t know what to expect. But, that was the catch when it came to all people— he could never anticipate the outcome.

He sat at the kitchen table with Phineas and Candace, opposite to Andrea, who looked to be happily sipping tea. His eyes shifted to the Flynn’s, unsure if he was supposed to say something first since— well she was only here because of him. But they were so much better at speaking.

Andrea cleared her throat, leaning forward against the table top. “So! Where should we start?”

PHINEAS

Phineas didn’t really do as much research. His idea of an “interview” was mostly based on podcasts about tech startups and his own extremely limited experience. But he wanted to give Andrea hard questions (and yes, this was partially a result of his own humiliation at his Chapter Three interview). Part of it was a power trip, sure, but the other part was his genuine desire to protect Ferb. If this lady really cared about him, she would have to fight to be a part of his life.

“I’ll start us off,” Phineas announced, glancing at Ferb and at Candace. He signed as he spoke and translated for Andrea-- he didn’t want Ferb to miss any of this. It was his decision, at the end of the day. Phineas fixed Andrea with an extremely serious expression. “How many pennies, stacked one on top of the other, would equal the height of the Empire State Building?”

CANDACE:

Candace didn’t see the point of this. In fact, she thought it was incredibly stupid. There was nothing that Andrea could say that would convince Candace that she was truly back. Parents that left always left. They weren’t parents. They were sperm and egg donors. Nothing more. If only she could make Ferb see that.

Even if he did, she doubted that he would do the right thing and push Andrea away. He was too nice for that, too much of a pushover.

Well, if Candace was forced to be his big sister, this was how she would do it. By protecting him from a woman he didn’t even remember. So, even though she thought this whole thing was stupid and pointless, she was going to be here. For every step of it. And she’d expose Andrea for being just as flighty as she was before. People like her didn’t change. She’d make sure that Ferb understood that when all this was said and done.

She sat slightly slumped in her chair, arms crossed, glaring at Andrea. Phineas’ question wasn’t going to get them anywhere but at least it’d tell her if Andrea was willing to play along. Maybe Phineas would just wear her down by being obnoxious. That would be ideal, since at the very least, Candace knew Ferb would stick up for Phineas.

Candace didn’t say anything. She just watched.

FERB

Ferb didn’t really know where Phineas was going with that one. It seemed a little out of left field if they were supposed to be getting to know who she was. But he didn’t protest or shoot him a funny look, he trusted Phineas to know what he was doing— Ferb just blinked and turned to see what Ms. Martin would have to say while he worked it out for himself in his head.

(The height of the Empire State building [1,454ft, which converted to 443,179.2 mm] divided by the thickness of an average American penny [1.52mm] = 291,565.2632 or, rounding up since you couldn’t very well slice the penny, 291,566 pennies.)

At first Andrea could only stare, brow furrowed, at the question. She had prepared for numerous things to be asked of her. About her life, about why she had left, about why she hadn’t come back, about her other children, about her and Lawrence’s past relationship— but she had never expected she would have to do maths.

“The Empire State Building.” She smiled as she repeated him. It had still been such a surprise that Lawrence of all people had found someone to marry in America. Then she hummed, lips pressed together trying to think how she was even supposed to begin.

After a moment she simply shrugged, figuring it wasn’t worth answering something so silly. Surely it was some sort of joke Phineas wanted in order to break the ice? Andrea laughed a little before providing her answer. “I’m afraid I’ve no idea. I don’t even know how tall the Empire State Building is. I’m sorry.” She glanced between the three of them. “How many is it then?”

PHINEAS

Phineas smiled triumphantly, and scribbled down a few notes that didn’t actually mean anything but just to show Andrea he was taking notes. That he had opinions on that answer. He was going to turn it over to Candace for the next question, but Phineas couldn’t help it. He had to interject with his explanation.

“So, that question doesn’t actually have a correct answer-- well, it would, maybe, if I were interviewing you for an engineering job, but even then, there would probably be more efficient ways to test your math skills than a word problem about pennies and the Empire State Building. That was actually a test to see what kind of problem-solver you are. Whether you would even make an attempt, you know? And if you did, would you go at it from a mathematical perspective, or a more practical perspective? Or maybe you would have a question about the problem, like do the laws of physics apply here, and if not, could I stack the pennies length-wise instead of width-wise?” Phineas explained, a superior smile on his face as he signed the words. “So if you want to make another try, you can, but I think I got what I needed from that question.”

He glanced at Candace. “Did you want to go next?”

CANDACE: Not that Candace would admit it out loud, but she was actually kind of impressed with Phineas’ logic about the question. She wondered what weirdo interview site he’d read that on. Probably the hiring for Google or something. It sounded like a question they would ask you if you wanted to work at Google.

And she was unimpressed with Andrea’s answer.

At least come up with something, yeah? Ask a question? Don’t just give up. It showed a weak sort of character, if you asked Candace. The kind of character that would run out on her son at first opportunity. And would do it again without a second thought.

When Phineas passed the baton to her, Candace shrugged a little. “Sure, I guess.”

Candace didn’t know what she wanted to ask. She hadn’t come into this wanting to ask anything. Only looking for the satisfaction of Andrea failing. But, now that the opportunity presented itself: yeah, Candace had a question.

“Why now? Why are you back now? You never said. And I don’t want some bullshit answer. There has got to be a real reason.”

FERB

In all his research, Ferb hadn’t come across Phineas’ question, which made him wonder if his research had been thorough enough. Then again, that was why Candace and Phineas were here. To fill in the gaps that Ferb couldn’t.

It also made him uncomfortable once he realized what Ms. Martin’s answer reflected about herself. He couldn’t even muster up the courage to glance her way, knowing the second hand embarrassment would eat him alive if he did. This only grew as he watched Candace’s words popped up along his phone screen.

Andrea let out a little oh, falling back into her seat at the explanation. She folded her hands, one on top of the other, her confidence level having decreased significantly— and after only the first question.

As Phineas asked his sister if she wished to contribute Andrea picked her head back up, pressing a smile back to her features. Ah, now this she had been prepared for. Even if the way it was said was rather vulgar. That was fine. Even needed.

“I know it seems a little out of the blue. Believe me, it was for me, too. But— like I had said, I just couldn’t stay away any longer. There was no more reasons I could come up with or excuses that I could push in front of me to blame. I was watching my other children and I— I don’t know but I finally came to my senses. I realized Ferb was going to be a young man soon enough and I knew I didn’t want to miss any more of his life than I already had.” She looked over to Ferb now but when his head remained down, eyes focused on his phone’s screen Andrea returned her attention back to Candace. “I don’t know quite what you mean by the real reason. If it’s finances you think I’m after, I’d obviously be in the wrong place. The house was never in my name, there’s no secret will or treasure said to be buried in the floorboards that’s somehow come to light or whatever else. The only thing here is my son. That’s it, plain and simple.”

PHINEAS

Phineas liked to pride himself on being scientific and objective with these kinds of things. Logical. Sure, he was an emotional person and emotions often got in the way of good choices, but not with science. And that was what this kind of was, right? A science experiment?

Hypothesis: Andrea couldn’t possibly deserve Ferb.

Conclusion: ...Unclear.

It was getting harder for Phineas to separate his own baggage from this. Because, really, how many times had he imagined this exact scenario for himself? Fred showing up on the Flynns’ doorstep in Danville, begging for forgiveness, saying that he had made a mistake and that he didn’t want to miss another moment of his kids’ lives. Not so much recently, because Phineas had a new life and a new family and he barely thought about Fred anymore. But when he was in middle school? That had been a different time.

“What are you going to do to make it up?” Phineas interjected, his tone different now. Less smarmy, a little more genuine. A hint of a challenge in his tone, but a little bit of fear as well. Hopefully Candace wouldn’t catch on to what was going on here. “If you’re gonna walk out on your kid with no explanation, the least you can do is prove you’re sorry.”

FERB

“I’m not sure that there is any one thing I can do to make it up,” Andrea admitted with a small shrug. (Especially when the one she was even here for wouldn’t spare her a glance!) “Nor do I have any set plan in mind. That’s not really how you gain someone’s trust, is it? You can’t manufacture that. All I can do is make good on my word— which is that I’m here now and I will be for as long as I am welcomed. And even if it takes til the end of my life to repair the damage I have done and to form any sort of relationship with my son, then I’ll do it.”

This all seemed rather dramatic to Ferb.

Phineas’ and Candace’s body language read defensive while Ms. Martin was still one giant mystery, but she did seem tense. Immediately he wished he could call the whole thing off. Maybe he could fake an illness or something, say he got a text about some emergency— of course that wouldn’t work considering the only people who would contact him about that were all somewhere in the house.

He wasn’t so selfish to think that all of this was about him. The Flynn’s had lost a parent, one they had actually known personally, and he could guess this was poking at old, but still painful, wounds. But he was so selfish to think that none of this would be happening if it weren’t for him, and it was rather pointless to do so.

CANDACE:

No, it wasn’t about Ferb.

Not to Candace. She wasn’t mature enough to separate her own wound from Ferb’s. She projected her own feelings onto him, which was easy to do. He was quiet and reserved. She couldn’t read him, but she didn’t need to. She assumed she knew exactly how he was feeling, because it was how she felt:

Confused. Angry. Hurt. Her whole heart felt like a bruise. A lot of the time, it was easy to ignore Fred’s absence. It had been years and Candace didn’t need him anyway. She did just fine on her own. But, now that Andrea was here with her watery eyes and half-baked promises, Candace’s missing for her father had opened up like a black hole in her chest, sucking everything else into it.

It made her feel more protective of Ferb than any previous time. He was so soft. Such a pushover. He’d let Andrea back into his life even though she didn’t earn it and then get hurt when she inevitably left again. Candace felt like she had to protect him from this, the way she hadn’t been able to protect Phineas from the heartbreak of their father walking away.

“And what if he decides he doesn’t want a relationship? And that the damage you caused is irreversible?”

PHINEAS

Phineas glanced at Candace sharply. That was… an intense thing to say. And even if Phineas had come into this interview determined to drive Andrea away, he was starting to wonder if maybe he had judged her too harshly.

Because the truth was, Andrea was right. There wasn’t any one thing you could do to make something like this better. Phineas had never wanted Fred to come back with presents or stories or excuses. He just wanted a dad. Period. It didn’t matter, now, though, because he had Lawrence who was way better and would never disappear.

Sometimes he did wonder, though, what he would do. He and Ferb didn’t really talk about this stuff much.

“I mean, irreversible’s a strong word. Ferb isn’t damaged,” Phineas said quickly. “He’s, like, the most mature person I know. But I get what Candace is saying. It’s up to Ferb. I trust him.” He glanced at Ferb encouragingly. “Anything you wanna say, Ferb?”

FERB

Both Candace and Phineas were wrong.

Ferb was damaged— but it had not been because his mother had left. It was of his own doing. This was why he felt no anger toward the woman sitting on the other side of the table. Of course, it had hurt to have learned why she did not want him. It always hurt. It had hurt every time he had tried to communicate with someone at school or at the park or— anywhere, really, and they would ignore him. When his teachers would talk to Ms. Thompson instead of him despite it being his words she was translating. When his father would have to take over every conversation on his behalf at restaurants, stores, and just about everywhere else. It was why he avoided it now. The world. He had learned to know better than to inconvenience it with himself.

He watched Phineas’ question addressing him stare back at him from his phone and after a moment he lifted his head. It took him another to finally turn to find Ms. Martin’s eyes.

“I don’t want to deny you the opportunity you’re asking for but— you have other children. I fail to see what I could give you that they can’t.”

Andrea’s discomfort grew at the sound of her son’s voice. It was the first time hearing it. Even as a baby he had been rather quiet. She hadn’t expected it. Which was silly, considering, but still. It was off. Different. Made his lack of hearing all the more present to her. She tried not to let that show.

“Oh, darling, it isn’t about what you can give me! I’m supposed to be giving to you. And even if it were the other way around, you’re doing your part by just being you.”

There was a pause as Ferb had to read this over. She shifted in her seat. (Again, it grew.) “You don’t know me, though.”

“Right— that’s what I’m here to do!”

Pause. (Growing, growing, growing.)

“It won’t be worth it.”

Andrea’s smile fell. She blinked, brow furrowing as her eyes went to the other two sitting in front of her to make sure she had heard that correctly. “I’m— I’m sorry?”

“Objectively speaking, it won’t be worth it. Getting to know me. You live in another city where you live with your family and go to work. If you wished to see me you would need to travel which would cost you money and time you would otherwise be able to save. People would expect you to learn sign, which also takes up more time from your life. If you only wished to communicate through technology it would be a written relationship since you can’t call me, which would only take up storage space and, again, time. Either way you would have to contact my father, which he does not seem pleased with. People usually do not respond well to not being liked so your interactions will tax the both of you. And— I’m not worth all of that. You gain nothing from knowing me besides extra hardships which will only result in regret or resentment. Both of which are not healthy.”

CANDACE: Candace rolled her eyes at Phineas. She hadn’t meant that Ferb was like...broken or something, just emotionally damaged. Because having a shitty parent did that to you. Obviously. It broke your heart and your trust and made you feel like shit. It was damaging. End of story.

Listen to Ferb now! Clearly, he felt the same way.

It was hard to listen to because Candace had shit opinions of herself, but she had some redeeming qualities. And she would never admit to feeling them the way that Ferb did now. It was uncomfortable to say the least. It made Candace want to squirm.

So, she did what she usually did when she was uncomfortable: she turned it into something else. Anger. Anger at Andrea and any parent that thought just leaving a child was okay.

“See?” she said furiously. “That’s because of you. He thinks that way, because of you. He thinks he isn’t worth it because you left him. That’s fucked up and it isn’t something that is easily forgiven. You can sit here with smiles all you want, but what you did was horrible.”

She looked at Ferb then and she’d been signing this whole time...well, doing her best anyway. She still wasn’t totally good at it and she was too pissed. But, what she said now, she said very carefully and very deliberately.

“No one should make you feel like a transaction,” she told him, even if she had to spell out ‘transaction’ because she didn’t know the sign for it. “And it’s okay if you’re angry or upset. Just because she’s here, doesn’t mean you have to be polite.”

God, she wished Ferb had more of a backbone and would just tear into this bitch.

PHINEAS

Phineas, in theory, agreed with pretty much everything Candace was saying. Relationships didn’t work like that, the way Ferb was describing it: they were about love and reciprocity, and genuine care for other people. That was the way Phineas saw it, anyway. Sure, it was nice that Ferb could help Phineas when the projects got too technical and complicated for Phineas to do on his own, but Phineas that wasn’t why Phineas cared about him. It was because they were brothers now, and that was what brothers did. That simple.

But Candace’s tone annoyed him. Why did she know better than Ferb? She always acted like she was so much older and wiser, meanwhile, she was barely a year older than Phineas. She was right, but did she have to be so bossy about it? And even if what she did was kind of fucked-up, if Ferb did eventually want to give Andrea a second chance, what made it Candace’s business?

Phineas didn’t realize it, but he was maybe projecting a little too.

He had a lot of things to say, but it wouldn’t be professional to say them out loud, not in front of Andrea. So Phineas did the thing that was probably ruder— he took out his phone and texted the group chat with Candace and Ferb.

@Ferb that’s bullshit and u know it anyone would be lucky to get the opportunity to be in ur family and like obviously ur worth it

@Candace that being said can you chill with the psychoanalysis me and ferb r capable of making our own decisions

Satisfied, Phineas set his phone down and signed to Candace and Ferb, Check your phone, before turning his attention back to Andrea. “I think what we’re actually trying to ask is what you can bring to Ferb’s life, not the other way around. Let’s focus on that. And based on that, Ferb can make his own decision about whether it’s worth it to him.” Phineas shot Candace a look.

FERB

If Andrea hadn’t already folded under listening to Ferb talk, then she certainly would have upon Candace’s addition. She found she didn’t know what to say to any of that— and she thought she had prepared for the worst.

Ferb pondered over Candace’s words and concluded that she wasn’t really talking about him. He didn’t think that way because of Ms. Martin, he had always thought that way. His brain had made it easier with its ability to recall everything it had ever come into contact with. He also hadn’t said that he was worthless, just that he wasn’t worth spending time with. That was a fact, proven by many, many, many failed attempts to prove the opposite.

And he was upset that Ms. Martin was here, but he had taken to not showing his emotions out of self preservation. It wasn’t out of politeness, though, he did have those hardwired into him, too.

His eyes flickered down to his phone as Phineas’ texts came through. Phineas was obviously biased, but Ferb appreciated the kindness nonetheless.

This whole thing wasn’t out of a want for a mother or because he sought to gain anything from this— it just seemed like the fair thing to do. Ms. Martin had asked for a chance. Ferb did not want to deny her that, even if she had wronged him. It was the right thing to do.

Andrea cleared her throat after Phineas addressed her, nodding. “Of course! Yes, you’re right. I completely agree. I don’t mind traveling at all and I’m certain Lawrence and I can be civil to one another, so, please, you’ve nothing to worry about as far as logistics go.”

Ferb blinked and she was beginning to think that was a good thing rather than him responding. So far, he only replied with bad news.

“As for what I can offer, it’s only what anyone else could— myself. And while I know my past record doesn’t reflect that being a very good thing, but I want to be here. I want to know him— you. Ferb. To whatever effect that may be! And not because I feel like it’s my obligation to do so.” She smiled, trying to get away from all the discomfort of the past few minutes. “We can start with interests! What do you like?”

Again, Ferb blinked, then shrugged, unsure of how to answer that. It was too broad of a question. What did she mean, what did he like? As in food? Colours? Coding method? Time of day?

“Right.” She glanced to the Flynn’s. “You two know him better than I do. Is he in anything? Sports? Clubs?”

CANDACE:

Candace ignored her phone because she didn’t care what Phineas had to say. She was right. Everyone here knew it. Andrea didn’t deserve to come back into Ferb’s life. Admittedly, she didn’t know what would qualify as enough penitence to come back into Ferb’s life. She hadn’t ever thought about it. When Fred had left, that had been it. Candace had spent months, crying and waiting for him to come home. Calling his cell phone only to receive a dial tone.

She had held out hope until her birthday, but when he didn’t show up. Or call. Or even send a card, Candace knew that he was gone and she’d cut him out of her heart then. Of course, it was messier than she liked to think when she look back now, but what was done was done. Every missed birthday, graduation, milestone had only hardened her heart against him. Fred was a sperm donor. Not a dad. If he showed back up she’d—

See, she didn’t know, because she never thought about it.

Whatever Andrea was doing wasn’t it, though.

“This is stupid,” Candace declared, pushing back from her chair. “You aren’t even talking to him, himself!” Her hands flew erratically as she tried to sign but was too pissed off to do so very well.

“Whatever. I’m not dealing with this. If you want to “get to know” Ferb, fine, whatever. But count me out.” And with that, she stormed out of the kitchen, Agent P scrambling at her feet playfully.

PHINEAS

Phineas was annoyed. At everyone. Candace was being unreasonable, Andrea was being awkward, and Ferb was… well, Phineas figured he probably shouldn’t get to decide how Ferb should feel about his estranged mom showing up, but he wished Ferb would say something. Even if Phineas thought Candace needed to calm down, he did agree that it rubbed him the wrong way that Andrea was talking about Ferb instead of to him.

He watched Candace storm off and raised his eyebrows, shrugging apologetically.

“Sorry about her,” Phineas said. He glanced at Ferb, trying to see where he was coming from. “But she does have a point. You can’t just talk about people right in front of them. Anyway, we’ll be asking the questions.”

He smiled and folded his hands, satisfied with his own assertive attitude. “Describe what you would do if Ferb got detention.” Ohhh yeah. This was a trick question. Ferb never got detention.

FERB

Goodness, Andrea thought, but forgave the girl as soon as she left. It wasn’t her fault. That came from upbringing, clearly. And Candace hadn’t really been the person Andrea had been here for anyway.

“Oh, that’s alright. She’s fine, I understand.” She nodded to Phineas, folding her hands back over one another on top of the table.

Ferb, on the other hand, felt all the more guilty. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have just sat there. He shouldn’t have invited her back. He shouldn’t have come down stairs at all the day she showed up. He shouldn’t have—. Well. That list could consist of an infinite amount of answers, or just one that would make everything else moot.

He didn’t look back at Phineas this time, too ashamed now to do anything but keep his eyes on his phone because surely Phineas would be angry with him, too. Yet he kept his anxieties from manifesting and despite the dread sitting in his stomach like a pit, he remained still and seated, even if he wanted to leave the table, too, to go find a hiding place that would last him for all eternity.

Andrea didn’t really have to think that hard about this question since she did have experience with figuring out punishments for her own children when getting phone calls from their schools! What she hesitated on was the fact that it was a child who was asking the question. Surely he would deduct points if she answered like a parent should. Or maybe he was trying to see if she would sugar coat it for the sake of trying to appeal to them?

Oh, she was just overthinking it. This was a child! “Well, depending on what he was in detention for, I would vary the consequences. He would have to apologize to whoever, if anyone, he had hurt, and then probably be grounded for some time, again, depending.”

PHINEAS

Phineas smirked. “Trick question. Ferb doesn’t get detention. The one time he did was because he covered my ass. So… nice try, but incorrect,” he said, a tone of superiority in his voice as he signed. He winked at Ferb.

Candace was gone and as much as Phineas wanted to milk this opportunity to be in charge, he figured there wasn’t much point in continuing to grill Andrea. Phineas didn’t hate her, after all. He was a little suspicious, but for the most part, she just seemed like a well-intentioned person who didn’t realize she was kind of in over her head. That was Phineas’s assessment anyway.

“Listen, I wouldn’t take Candace personally. She’s just… like that. I do agree that this is kind of out of nowhere, and I think you have a lot of making up for lost time to do, but the end of the day, it’s Ferb’s decision, not ours. Excuse us for a moment.”

He turned to Ferb and signed, Do you want to make a decision now, or sleep on it?

FERB

Andrea sat there a little shocked. He didn’t get detention? She blinked, jaw slack, as Phineas informed her. It wasn’t as if she had been expecting Ferb to be a troublemaker or anything, but never? On his own accord, anyway? Goodness. Even her other children had gotten punishments at school. A call home here or there for something. It was only natural.

She only gave a weak nod and smile to match as Phineas tried to apologize for his sister. Again, Andrea really paid no mind to Candace. She wasn’t the one she was here for and nor did she seem particularly close to Ferb in the way the boy sitting next to him was. Andrea sat back, left to twiddle her thumbs as the two of them began to speak in a language she couldn’t even begin to make out. (Which was more from a lack of not trying than anything else.)

Ferb thought over this question and could see no reason to prolong the inevitable. Ms. Martin had given her answers and she had still seemed like she wanted to know Ferb. For whatever reason. In his mind, it was only fair to give her a shot. She had apologized and said she would do more to make amends. There was really nothing else he could think to ask for.

Also, this was perhaps a chance for him to make up for his own failings. All those years he had spent trying to actively gain people’s friendship only to be ignored. Now, he was met with someone who had ignored him for years who was wanting to do the opposite. That had never happened before.

Now, he signed, both hands at his ribcage, palms to the ceiling, bobbing up and down twice. He then turned to Ms. Martin and spoke aloud. “Okay. If this is what you want.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “It is! Of course. Erm— oh here.” Andrea reached across the table to take Ferb’s phone, which caused a spike in his nerves since he 1. No longer knew what she was saying and 2. Well. She had his phone. After a few painful seconds of her tapping at it she pushed it back across to him. “I put my number in so you can call or— contact me whenever!”

Ferb, having not gotten any of that, just nodded. Andrea smiled, eyes moving to Phineas. “And thank you so much! This was delightful, apart from— well. Anyway, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon!”

#interview process #oh phineas #i want candy #fern

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thaliagrayce · 4 years ago

Text

The Innocent Can Never Last

here’s the ao3 link if you wanna stop by!

Her roots were just barely starting to show. She leaned over the shitty drugstore pocket mirror she had propped against the windowsill above her sleeping bag and pulled some of her short hair straight up, squinting at the half centimeter of blond that had crept up underneath the black. She would have to dye it again soon, but it was almost a miracle that it was only half a centimeter. Her hair used to grow a lot faster, before she was a tree.

Whatever. Maybe this meant it was time to finally get that buzz cut she’d always wanted; she would have enough time enough to enjoy the way the short dark hair looked on her head before it grew out blond again. For now, though, all she did was ruffle her hand through it to cover the blond as well as she could and made sure her eyeliner was properly smudged before getting out of her makeshift bed.

She ignored the haphazard stack of orange t-shirts piled next to her duffel bag that some Hermes camper had brought her the first week she’d been there. Changing in the middle of the day felt kinda stupid, but it meant that she’d already checked off her Camp Spirit for the day. Nobody could tell her to change. Today was a black tank top kind of day, anyway. The last thing she grabbed before leaving was the dark blue UC Berkeley drawstring bag she’d kept with her on the road, torn in a few places and with half the yellow logo faded to illegibility. Its contents clanked as she threw it over her shoulder and pushed the door open.

The late afternoon heat of July hit her without mercy as soon as she opened the cabin door, and she had to screw her eyes shut against the force of the sunlight. It felt like a completely different world out here, with kids yelling to each other from across the basketball courts and chasing each other around with swords and screaming when they fell off the climbing wall. The inside of the Zeus cabin must have been soundproofed, because it always felt so cut off from the rest of camp—you couldn’t hear anything but the rumble of thunder from in those walls. Maybe Zeus just didn’t like sharing the spotlight.

Changing into a black shirt started to sound like a bad idea in retrospect halfway to the infirmary, but she didn’t let that deter her. She’d worn nothing but hospital gowns and orange shirts since she woke up two weeks ago, and stupid heat and sunlight wouldn’t ruin her first day of freedom.

Some son of Apollo she recognized was leaving the infirmary just as she got to the door. She nodded at him, trying and failing to remember his name. There were so many people here. She hadn’t really had to learn anyone’s name in years—not anyone that mattered, anyway—and now she was presented with at least five new people every day.

And they all wore orange. She’d had an almost constant headache from all the color when she first woke up, which really didn’t help her memory or attention span.

The infirmary was almost empty when she got there, just a couple campers tidying up. Two sharp raps to the doorframe drew their attention to her.

“Fletcher. You got the goods?”

Lee Fletcher was the eldest camper in the room, a skinny dark-skinned boy with dreads tied back in a ponytail and a smile sunny enough to announce his parentage without need to be claimed. He was one of the only people whose name Thalia had actually learned since she woke up. He had been the one in charge of monitoring Thalia during the week that she’d spent stuck in the infirmary, and she was still trying to figure out how to properly say ‘thank you for keeping me alive and sane even after I punched you in the face’.

“You owe me for this, you know.” Lee grinned at her and held up one finger in a ‘one second’ gesture, then jogged to his bag in the corner. While he shuffled around in it, Thalia shrugged her bag off her shoulders.

“I had to cash in a favor with Travis Stoll for this. You know how much those are worth?”

“He’s one of the Hermes ones, right?” Thalia stepped into the room and leaned against the wall. “Just tell him it was for me, then he’ll have something on the new kid. You’ll be fine.”

“Here we go!” He straightened up and crossed the room to her, holding out a smuggled CD case. “Brand new, pristine condition. Come back to me when you realize Nimrod is child’s play.”

She took the case and immediately wanted the album art on a pin to add to her jacket—a white hand holding on to a red heart-shaped grenade. Nice. She wouldn’t admit that to Lee yet, though.

“Come on. You’ve heard Nimrod, right? How can you be so confident I’m gonna like this one more?”

“Because Good Riddance is the only song worth remembering on the entire album. Just trust me, American Idiot is gonna blow you away.”

She smirked at him and shoved the CD into her bag. “We’ll see about that. Thanks for getting this for me.”

“No problem. Once you’re done with that, I’m gonna introduce you to My Chemical Romance” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to her, sighing with a bittersweet smile. “It’s just nice to have someone else around who has good taste in music again.”

The since Luke left went unsaid, but hung like a summer thunderstorm in the silence after his words. Thalia looked down at her hands, at the few freckles dotting her knuckles and fresh black nail polish she and Annabeth had applied together yesterday. The two of them had spent an hour sitting together like that, painting each other’s nails while Annabeth quizzed Thalia about important global events that had happened while she was out and people she should probably know going forward. It wasn’t hard to imagine him here with them if she thought about it, which is why she didn’t let herself think about it.

Life was simpler when she was a tree.

Lee cleared his throat and uncrossed his arms, tapping the wall behind him twice before pushing off of it. “I, uh, gotta get back to work. You think you’ll start listening before dinner?”

She looked up at him and smiled, but even she could tell it didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh yeah. I’ll have a full analysis double-spaced and printed for you by six.” Lee huffed a laugh, and she considered that to be a step forward. Awkward atmosphere who? She could have more than two friends.

“Good. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts.”

She sent a wave over her shoulder as she stepped out and made a mental note to talk to him about the album tomorrow. She liked Lee. She wanted to be his friend and was determined to put in the work to make sure that happened, but she wasn’t going to be at dinner tonight. There were more important things on her agenda than team dinner.

The sun was hanging a little closer to the horizon now; not close to sunset yet, but the heat had lost its intensity. She had to get a move on.

Campers stared at her when she was out and about sometimes, which really wasn’t her favorite thing. She’d had enough unwanted attention from the public to last a few lifetimes already. Usually people cared about the other parent, though. The Hephaestus kid coming out of the forge probably didn’t even know who Beryl Grace was, let alone see her wide blue eyes and signature smile on Thalia’s face.

It wasn’t much better, but at least being a child of Zeus came with power. The stare she got now wasn’t just curiosity, it was respect.

She stared down the Hephaestus kid as she walked past, and they had the decency to look embarrassed about staring. Good.

She got halfway to the dining pavilion before she was interrupted again.

“Thalia!”

Annabeth was taller than her now, which didn’t feel like something that should be allowed. When she bounded over to Thalia, all smiles and curls and bright orange t-shirt, Thalia actually had to look up to meet her eyes. It was strange. She had started to think of Annabeth as a little sister somewhere along the road, and when she woke up again, she realized she had missed—six? Seven?—years of Annabeth’s life. That hit her harder than any years of her own life she had missed. As far as Thalia was concerned, she had died at age twelve and been resurrected at age fifteen and that was that.

But Annabeth was tall now, and smiling at her. Thalia smiled back, real despite the mood she had slipped into since leaving Lee. It wasn’t hard.

“Annabeth! How you doing? Where’s Percy?” The boy was usually two steps behind Annabeth, or she was two steps behind him, and they were usually bickering loud enough for half the camp to be able to make an informed decision on whose side they would take if asked.

Annabeth made a face at his name, but she also blushed a bit. Thalia bit back her smirk. The kid tried, but she couldn’t hide her true emotions for anything. She liked to pretend she didn’t drag him around everywhere, but Thalia had only been back for two weeks and it was already a little weird to not see them together.

“I don’t know, doing Percy things? We’re not attached at the hip, you know.” She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, and Thalia watched it bounce.

That was another thing. Her hair was long now. The day after Thalia woke up, Annabeth had come to sit with her in the infirmary, just to be with her for a while and drink in each other’s presence. Thalia had reached out a hand and touched one of her curls, tugging it a little and watching it bounce back to join the rest. When she had looked at Annabeth’s face again, she had tears in her eyes and a wobbly smile on her mouth.

“It suits you,” Thalia had said. It was true. Annabeth looked so much happier now, so much more confident. She looked as proud as Thalia felt.

Now, tan and tall and comfortable enough to be blushing in the sunlight, it was clear that this place had become her home in the years Thalia had been gone. For a moment, she was hit with how much she had missed.

“We should get our ears pierced together.”

Annabeth blinked at her in surprise. She might have been talking while Thalia wandered into nostalgialand.

“But you already have pierced ears.”

Of course she had pierced ears, she’d grown up with a famous mother who cared more about her baby’s image than the person behind it. Thalia had pierced ears since before she could talk. She also remembered Annabeth being transfixed by her earrings when she thought Thalia wasn’t looking on the road, though. Thalia had missed seven years and hadn’t been able to support Annabeth through most aspects of her transition, but this was something she could be around for.

“I want a double piercing, we should go together.” Thalia squared her shoulders and crossed her arms, looking at Annabeth with challenge in her eyes. “Unless you’re afraid of needles, of course.”

Annabeth bristled, which was exactly what Thalia had been hoping for.

“I’ve faced fully-grown cyclopes and a boat full of angry monsters and the Lord of the Dead himself. I think I can handle one needle.”

“Good. We can sneak out later this week.”

“Or,” Annabeth corrected, “we could wait for September. Chiron told me to find you, he said he snagged a spot for you at the boarding school I’m going to this fall. It’ll be a lot easier to get into the city from school.”

Thalia immediately felt lighter, like a weight she hadn’t even known was there suddenly lifted from her shoulders. A week ago, Chiron had broken it to her that she probably had to stay at camp all year round because of how strong her aura was. She’d been going to the Big House every morning to train with the Mist, but he made sure her hopes didn’t get too high—she needed to get good good before she would be able to safely leave camp.

“For real? He actually said that?”

“Yep! We won’t be roommates, but we’ll be in the same dorm. It’ll be super easy to find me if something goes wrong.”

That meant less of Annabeth’s life that she had to miss because she was sidelined. More time when she could just exist with her little sister, learn who she had become in Thalia’s absence. Learn who she would grown into.

“Sick, you can help me study. I haven’t been to school since I was like seven.”

Annabeth laughed at that. “Neither have I, this is gonna be an interesting year.”

One of Annabeth’s sisters ran over to get her after that, something about an argument about beach volleyball rules getting a little too heated. Names were called, swords were drawn. That seemed like a pretty common occurrence here, though, so Annabeth hadn’t looked too worried as she hugged Thalia and said goodbye. The sun was dipping a little closer to the setting point, anyway. Thalia was running out of time.

A few dryads were setting up the dining pavilion for dinner by the time she got there. If she didn’t want to be stuck waiting for everyone else, she had to be sneaky about how she got her shit. Luckily for her, living on the streets for your formative years was a pretty good way to learn how to get in and out of a place undetected.

The first trick was knowing exactly what you were going to take before you went in to get it. She skirted around to the back of the pavilion and hid behind a column. The table farthest from her held a huge bowl of peaches—easily bruised but still easily grabbable. Closer by, a dryad with stick-straight brown hair wheeled a big dish that kinda looked like a boat with a cover out on a cart, and Thalia dismissed that immediately. Nothing portable was kept in a container like that—it was probably pasta night, or some kind of soup or something. Unless she wanted to ruin her bag and everything in it, that wasn’t an option.

More than one peach, then. That was fine. There was a big basket of fresh rolls next to the probably-pasta, and they smelled good. She’d had worse meals than fresh bread and peaches before.

The second trick was confidence. If you looked like you knew what you were doing, you were a lot less likely to be stopped while you did it. Thalia waited until the dryad had gone back into the kitchens, then walked out from her hiding spot with her shoulders set and her posture relaxed. Carefully casual. She managed to get to the bread and stick three rolls into her bag without drawing any attention at all.

Walking toward the peaches put her directly in the path of another dryad, though. She was just headed out of the kitchens, carrying a platter of still-steaming brownies. She blinked at Thalia twice, and her green eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“It’s not time to eat yet, what are you doing back here?”

Confidence, she reminded herself.

“I was sent here.” Confident statement, confident tone. She was doing great.

The dryad narrowed her eyes. “Oh, really? By who? Why?”

Maybe confidence only worked if you had the conviction to back it up. She thought briefly about just getting out of there, but then she remembered that she was getting daily lessons in bullshitting other people. This was a harmless enough reason; she was sure the nymph would understand, and Chiron would probably be fine with her practicing at camp.

Probably.

She breathed in through her nose and thought of what the dryad saw: some punk teenager trying to sneak food before dinner. There had been a moment of recognition, though, right before the suspicion set in. She knew who Thalia was.

Thalia waved her hand in the air, disguising it as adjusting one of the straps on her shoulder. She put both breath and intention behind her words, and prayed to her father that it would actually work.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get in your way. I can’t eat with the rest of the campers for medical reasons tonight. I won’t be much of a hassle, I’m just going to grab a peach before the crowd gets here and I can’t leave.”

The dryad blinked. Her eyes went a little hazy, which immediately filled Thalia with equal parts elation and guilt. It had worked, but she had just preyed on this woman’s kindness. The fact that the words were mostly true was a bit of consolation, at least.

“Of course. Take a brownie, too. I hope you feel better soon.”

She felt bad, but not bad enough to not take a brownie. They smelled fantastic.

After that, she had no trouble getting at the peaches and slipping a few of them into her bag. As she walked away, she heard the squeaking of wheels and the clinking of plates—the harpies had come in to set the tables. She’d gotten out just in time.

Now she just had to get across camp without being noticed and pulled in with the dinner rush. Cutting through the middle of the cabins was the most direct route, but it was also guaranteed to get her seen by well-intentioned curious eyes. She eyed the amphitheater. Going around the far end of that would take more time and would take her closer to the magical camp border than she should go, but it was also the most hidden option. It was probably fine. She had her shield, she had a butterfly knife in her pocket. She took the long route.

As she was skirting around the raised seating, a laugh carried up from the stage—someone must have been using it. The laugh stopped her cold, pulse running wild. Her brain knew that it wasn’t Luke, it couldn’t have been Luke, but—

“Cut it out, Trav! I have a reputation!”

There it was again, the laugh. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, ignored the sudden heat behind her eyes. Of course. The Stolls. It really was incredible how similar siblings could be.

“What reputation, dude? You snorted chocolate milk out your nose last week.”

Thalia hiked her bag further up on her shoulder and walked faster. She’d been stupid. Luke wasn’t here, and it would be a serious threat if he was. She knew that.

She still wasn’t sure if her reaction had been happiness, fear, anger, or a fucked up mix of all of them.

Finally, the giant pine peeked out from the other side of the amphitheater. She gave the entrance a wide berth, not wanting to be seen and not wanting to hear anything more. She focused on the silhouette of the tree against the sky. Even after two full weeks, it felt wrong to look at it from the outside. Like looking down at her hand but not recognizing it as her own.

As she got closer, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d never cared about the scent of pine trees before she’d become one, but now she found herself missing it. She’d technically lived in a pine tree for longer than she’d ever lived almost anywhere else, and her memories of Beryl’s house were both distant and stressful. Cedar, fir, and juniper were the first scents she thought of when she heard the word “home”. Demigod life might be confusing and she might be completely out of the loop, but at least this tree was, too. She could breathe easier as she approached.

The baby dragon that had gotten there earlier that week—Peleus—lifted his head as she got closer, but lowered it again immediately when he saw who it was. The rest of the camp was still pretty uneasy around him, but Thalia didn’t quite get it. He was about the size of a Great Dane and just as affectionate as one, if he trusted you.

He didn’t trust a lot of people yet, though. He knew that Argus was the guy that brought him food and Chiron was the one who clopped away in a funny way if you sneezed fire, so they were okay, but the rest of camp was on thin ice.

He’d never minded Thalia, though. She kind of thought he still recognized her as part of the tree, or maybe he recognized the tree as part of her. Whatever. The dragon loved her, which felt pretty damn good. She patted his head once as she passed his napping spot, and he rumbled something that sounded like a purr but much, much deeper.

She took off her bag and sat heavily on the other side of the trunk, staring out over the forest at the almost-setting sun. In the distance, the conch shell sounded, followed by a loud bang from somewhere around the armory. Probably one of the Hephaestus kids experimenting for the fireworks show. It wouldn’t be for another few days, but camp had been plagued by random crashes and explosions all week. She was getting better at not reacting, getting more used to this camp and all of its eccentricities.

She took the beat-up blue CD player out of her bag, the only relic she still had from her time at home. She’d left Beryl Grace’s house with a duffel bag full of clothes, an entire loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and her trusty CD player. Back then, she only had a Wham! CD that some well-meaning friend of her mother had given her, something that she’d lost somewhere between Montana and Wyoming. The big black over-the-ear headphones that she pulled out next were more recent, but still pretty old by current standards. Luke had stolen them for her from a Radio Shack in Georgia somewhere, as an apology present for some dumb mistake he’d made that day. She couldn’t even remember why she had been mad, but she remembered the way he smiled at her excitement.

She didn’t like dwelling on Luke, but she figured she had one day a year to be sorry for herself. She deserved it. She took the CD Lee had given her out of its case and popped it in the player before bringing out one of the peaches.

The album was good, Lee was right. Better than Nimrod. She let it play as she cut up the peaches with her butterfly knife and ate them, either sliced on top of the bread or just plain. They were juicier than they should have been this early in the summer, but she figured it was probably some bullshit divine magic. Everything here ran on it. She bit into one of the rolls, still warm despite the walk.

So Luke was evil now. That’s what Percy said that first day, at least, and Annabeth had looked too distressed to correct him at the time. She’d gotten defensive since then, put her foot down when the topic came up—which really wasn’t that often, whenever both Annabeth and Thalia were in a room—and made sure everyone knew that Luke was still good. Just misguided.

Thalia had no idea what to think. Some of the stories about him she understood completely. Starting a rebellion against the gods because they were shitty parents? Yeah, that checked. The two of them had done their fair share of griping about the awful hand they’d been dealt when they were on the run, and there was really no way that blame didn’t rest directly on their parents’ shoulders. Her death had probably made that worse for him, and she sincerely felt for him there.

Hurting kids, though? Especially someone who was so close to Annabeth, someone she clearly cared about? That was a little farfetched. Percy seemed like an honest kid, and everyone else she had asked backed him up on the whole scorpion story (and the several subsequent swordfights), but she still couldn’t quite get her heart to believe that Luke had tried to kill this boy when he was twelve. Percy was still shorter than Thalia, and he had this sharp air around him that reminded Thalia of Luke sometimes. He couldn’t do that, right? She knew him. She trusted him. They had been angry on the road, yeah, but they had taken Annabeth in without blinking. That anger was directed entirely at the gods. He wouldn’t try to destroy the one safe place on the planet for kids like them.

She flat-out refused to believe that Luke had poisoned her. Or—if he had, he had poisoned the tree. He thought Thalia was dead, Thalia was supposed to be dead. The tree itself wouldn’t have mattered.

(She didn’t think of the motivation behind poisoning the tree. She couldn’t.)

So some of what she heard had to be bullshit, plain and simple, but…

She’d caught a few people laughing at some of her jokes about him, his harmless quirks and manners of speech, before they caught themselves. They knew him, they’d known him before whatever actually happened went down. Before he became evil or whatever. Some of them had clearly been friends with him—not to the same extent, but still—and they all said he’d done these terrible things. So she didn’t know what to think. They knew him, but maybe they didn’t know him as well as she did.

Then again, maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. People changed. Maybe her best friend became a child murderer.

She wiped the butterfly knife on her pants before she closed it and stuck it in her pocket, done with her peaches and bread. The song that had just started was nice, more mellow and low-key than the rest of the album. It sounded sad, minor chords and a mournful voice, but she hadn’t been paying much attention to the lyrics. She would have to listen to the whole album again before she talked to Lee tomorrow. That was okay, it was good. She would have re-listened to it anyway.

The sun was finally setting for real, and she thunked her head against the trunk of the tree behind her. Whether or not she liked it, whether or not she believed it was Luke, someone had poisoned her tree. Either to get at camp or to get at her specifically, she didn’t know. It would have ended up the same either way. She wasn’t supposed to be awake, she didn’t want to be awake, but here she was. And now, from what Chiron had told her that morning about a prophecy, she was expected to go and kill her best friend on her next birthday.

Welcome back to life, Thalia.

She thought she had died so that Luke, Annabeth, and Grover could be safe, so that they could all have somewhere that would feel like home and protect them from the monsters. Now Annabeth had battle scars all over and Grover had just spent two weeks captive and in terror for his life and Luke had become the monster she was expected to fight and she was still alive, so her sacrifice meant nothing.

She took a shaky breath and felt how much cooler the breeze was against the tracks her tears had made. Tonight wasn’t about Luke. She had to move on. There would be time to think about him later.

For now she paused the music at the end of the slow song, but she kept the bulky headphones on. She knew she was less likely to be disturbed like this, dressed in her ripped-up ratty jeans with her angry eyeliner and big black headphones. ‘Difficult to talk to’ was the exact look she had been going for that afternoon. She moved away from the trunk of the tree, but not far enough that her silhouette would be noticeable to a faraway observer. Still under the wide boughs, still enclosed in comfort. She cleared a circle about a foot wide of any pine needles, thankful that a combination of Peleus and shade meant that grass never successfully grew under the tree.

She took a few tissues from her bag and set them in the center of the circle, smoothing down their edges in an attempt to look nice. It probably wasn’t necessary, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Gently, she set the brownie she’d gotten from the nymph in the center of the napkins. Then she took out her old electric blue gas station lighter. She was kind of surprised it still had fluid after all these years, but she was grateful for it. Stealing a lighter or matches would have been a lot harder for her than stealing some peaches.

She lit the tissues. As the flames crept closer to the brownie, she prayed.

“Hey, Hades. It’s me. Again.” The tissue burned out completely, but the moist brownie caught fire, so she guessed he had probably heard.

“I know it’s been a few years. Also you tried to kill me, which wasn’t cool and probably means you hate me, but I get it. I guess. You can hate me, that’s fine. I just—” She swallowed, suddenly aware of how hot her eyes had become. She felt a tear fall onto her arm. If Hades was listening, he probably already knew what she was going to say. She’d done this every year, but she needed to say it again. She needed to.

“Please take care of Jason.” She blinked past the wetness in her eyes and watched the fire spread over the brownie in unnatural colors—blue and white, purple and gold. It smelled like it was baking instead of burning. She hoped that Jason could smell it from wherever his little two-year-old soul was down there.

“I know it’s not cake, but you always liked these better anyway. Happy birthday, bud. Miss you.”

The worst thing about waking up so close to July was that she wasn’t used to the years she had skipped yet. She was fifteen and she shouldn’t have been fifteen and it took her a full minute to figure out how old Jason should have been starting today.

Twelve. It would have been his twelfth birthday, had he survived past his second. Had Thalia not left him with their mother. Had she run away a week earlier, towing him along behind her. Would he and Annabeth have been friends? What would he think of Luke? Of Camp Half-Blood?

When she’d made her last stand seven years ago, right here in this spot, her final thoughts hadn’t actually been about protecting Annabeth or Luke or Grover. That was her motivation, yes, but her last thoughts had actually been about her brother. There was no way she would get out of that encounter alive, she knew that. She thought she had known that. The last thing she remembered thinking before she woke up was I hope I get to see Jason again.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the mingling scents of pine and baking brownies. It was July First, and Thalia was allowed to be sad today. She would pull herself together by tomorrow, she always did, but she was allowed to cry tonight.

She opened her eyes and watched the colors as the sun finally dipped to touch the horizon, flames in the sky mirroring the burning brownie in front of her, and mourned for all she had lost.

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cal-puddies · 5 years ago

Text

meet fletch || pt 4. || ashton irwin

meet fletch || pt 1 || pt 2 || pt 3 || pt 4 || pt 5 || pt 6

Ash got used to fletch's schedule before you could really settle in. You’d hugged him tight and promised you were only a little bit away and to call if he needs anything at all.

Ash spent time driving with you so you could get used to it and lent you one of his cars, and then he was sending you off to the loft. He’d planned a lunch for you and Kay Kay so you could meet her, his intentions of course were to introduce her to Fletch if you were cool with it.

You thought being alone for the the first time in six years would be nice, but you missed your kid and the sounds he makes. Not to mention, Ashtons loft didn’t feel like home. But, it was two months and for the greater good of fletch, you could try.

You remember that Cal gave you his number, so you toy with the idea of texting him, not sure he really meant it.

-what’s good around here? Haven’t gone grocery shopping. You text, acting like you’d been friends forever.

-you at the loft then? I can bring something by. Some food and drinks as a welcome to the neighborhood, what do you like? Cal quickly responds.

-that’d be great. I’m lost. You admit. And I’m not picky. I’m sure whatever you like is fine.

Cal shows up about an hour later, he lets himself up and into the loft. “Hey you.” He calls, dropping the food on the coffee table, and putting the drinks in the fridge.

“Hey! Be right there!” You reply from the bedroom. “Thanks for coming. Sorry I’m already annoying you.”

“Not at all. I told you I’d show you around, but I’m sure it’ll be nice to just get to know you’re new place.” He grins and you relax. You already knew he had a silent reassurance about him.

Ash adores Fletcher, and that is being reciprocated, 100% by Fletch.

“Ash?” Fletch asks. The two of them were hanging out, having a very relaxed night.

“Yeah?” Ash looks over at him, turning down the TV a little.

“You’ve known mom a long time?”

“I used to know her very well. That’s how she got you.” He shrugs.

“Do you love mom?”

Ash thinks he knows what fletch is getting at, so he answers honestly. “When I was 17, I loved your mom more than I thought was possible.”

“But you didn’t come back for us.” And it wasn’t a question, though Fletch had been full of questions since he finally found out who his dad was.

“I think… that’s a conversation to have with your mom and I when you’re a little bit older.” He nods, feeling like he appropriately handled that without additional help from you, as there had already been massive amounts of texts to you.

“Do you love mom now?”

“I think I’ll always love her, she’s been a part of my life for a long long time, Fletch, you don’t just forget that.”

“Can I call mom before bed?” He checks.

“Of course Fletch.” Ash nods, “did you wanna call her now or in a little while?”

“Later… what did you think she’s doing?”

“You are full of questions aren’t you?” Ash laughs, “she’s probably getting used to her new space too, I’d imagine.”

“Am I not gonna see her at all?” Fletch asks, it’s the first time you two have really spent time away from each other, with you being his primary care giver.

“No fletch, you can see your mom, pretty much whenever you want, you just have to say so.”

Your cell rings close to 8, Cal had just gotten back from running out for more wine, and you two were sitting on the couch laughing.

“Hey, Sorry, this is probably fletch or ash experiencing a meltdown.” You chuckle. Cal nods. “Hello?” You answer. “Hey bubba!” You greet. “I’m good. Just hanging out with dad’s friend Calum.” You smile at Calum. And he struggles for a second, because he shouldn’t like you. You have a kid with his best friend. But you guys weren’t together, and god if you keep smiling at him… “of course I can come have lunch with you tomorrow Fletch.” You grin. “Alright, I love you too bubs, I’ll see ya tomorrow, good night.” Cal watches you listen. “Ok, put him on. Night night my love.”

He tunes out the conversation. He notices the change in your voice as you talk to Ashton. It’s different than how you speak to him too. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow…” you’re trying to get off the phone, you feel bad, being on the phone in front of Cal. “Yeah, he just brought some food over so I wasn’t sitting here alone all night. I don’t really know anyone else yet Ashton.” He hears the defensive tone and he knows he’s gonna have to answer for this too. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You roll your eyes. “Sorry about that Cal.” You say, dropping your phone to the coffee table.

“No need to apologize.” He smiles. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Uhh… sure. I have no idea how any of this works though.” You admit, gesturing towards the TV set up.

“I’ve been here a few times, we’ll figure it out.” He promises.

There’s space between you two, but you still manage to fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. Cal wakes you up when the movie is over. You apologize profusely.

“Don’t worry about it. The time change is tough.” He promises as you walk him to the door.

“Thanks again for coming over.” You say quietly, because this feels an awful lot like the end of a date.

“I was happy to, to get to know you better since you’ll be around. And I’m really close if you ever need anything, even someone to work the tv.” He offers, “or a dinner and drinks date.” He leans over and kisses your forehead before slipping out the door. You lock up.

“I want to talk to you about something.” Ashton says as the two of you follow Fletch close at Disneyland.

“What’s up?” You ask.

“Calum?” He says, you watch him eye you.

“Calum! Yes, your pseudo neighbor?” You laugh.

“You two have spent a lot of time together over the last month.” He points out.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You shrug. “Fletch, slow down bud!” You call.

“You took him to drinks with people you work with. What do you think that says?” He asks, looking forward for fletch.

“I think it says I don’t have to answer to these questions because you and I aren’t together.” You shrug.

“I just think… he’s my best friend… and I’m not sure you should be in a relationship with him.”

“Fletch, come back here.” You call to your son . He stops in his tracks and turns back toward you and Ash, who’ve also stopped. “I get it, you don’t want me to date your friend. No one said we were even doing anything.” You shrug.

“You fucking him?” Ash asks, quietly.

“Ashton!” You groan. “So what if I was? So what if you weren’t the last person I slept with six years ago? What about that? You went off, gallivanting the world and sleeping with anything that moved and I took care of a kid.”

“Don’t do that. You didn’t say anything to me.” He grits his teeth.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. I knew you back then. If you had decided not to stay, you would have done the same thing… and now you’re with Kay Kay and that’s great! You guys seem happy together… but why don’t I deserve that? I’m sorry cal is your friend and he’s being nice to me… but don’t I deserve that?” You reach for Fletch's hand and walk off toward the ride he wanted to go to.

Ash doesn’t say much else to you until you leave. Fletch is exhausted, so Ash carries him to the car. “Dad I wanna go to your house.” Fletch mumbles.

“Ok bud, that’s fine. You can come to my house. We just gotta drop mom off first.” Ash assures him. “I wanna talk to you about getting more time

With him.” Ash mentions to you.

“I’m not talking to you about that right now.” You shake your head.

“That’s… I deserve that.” He nods. You get to the car and you get in. You don’t say a word to Ash the whole drive back to where you stay, but you respond to Cal’s text about wanting to see you. When he pulls up you immediately move to get out of the car. “Hey, I still wanna talk.” He reminds you.

“Great we’ll have dinner this week.” You shrug, opening the backdoor to say bye to Fletch. “Bubba.” You say softly, rubbing your finger gently up and down his nose to wake him. “I gotta go.” You say as his eyes open.

Fletch throws his arms around you. “Mom! Are you mad I wanna stay with Dad?” He checks.

“No bubba, we're here so you can get to know him.” You squeeze him tight. “I love you, be good.” You kiss his head and let him go.

“Love you mom.” He replies.

“Night boys.” You say, shutting the door.

Cal lets himself in while you’re in the shower, he’s got a glass of wine and food waiting for you when you come out, all cleaned up.

“Hey you.” He greets, pulling you closer so he can kiss you. “How was your day?” He asks. He watches you roll your eyes, “that good huh?” He laughs.

“Yeah, it was amazing.” You say flatly.

“Ohh.” Cal chuckles, “what happened?”

“Ashton doesn’t want us to see each other. And he decided in the middle of the park was the perfect time for this chat.” You groan.

“Sorry babe.” Cal says, rubbing your back.

“Him and I aren’t together, we have no interest in being together. Hello! I don’t get what the issue is.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Cal says, making it sound final.

“Umm… I dunno if that’s a good idea either.” You laugh.

“It’ll be fine.” Cal brushes it off.

Cal looks at you, second bottle of wine in, you'd put something on the tv but you’d just been talking, like you had every time you’d been out together. “It’s getting late.” You say, looking at him.

“It is.” He agrees. “You kicking me out?”

“No. Not if you don’t wanna leave.” You shrug.

“I don’t wanna leave…” he shakes his head. “Can I ask you something personal?” He asks. You look at him and nod. “Is ashton the last person you were with, intimately?”

You avoid his eyes for a minute, and then nod. “Yeah… pregnant and then Fletch with me like 99% of the time… this is actually the longest I’ve ever gone without being his primary caregiver and it’s kinda weird… it’s like all I know at this point.” You shrug.

“Is it something you’d want?” Cal asks. He’s getting at something and you know it.

“Of course, with someone I care about and cares about me? I’d love probably love that.” You chuckle.

Cal gently lifts your chin so he can lean in and kiss you. “I was thinking I’d stay.” He murmurs.

“With me?” You ask, surprised.

“Of course, is anyone else here?” He laughs, pulling away. “I feel like you’re comfortable with me and we can do some explorin… if you’re interested.” He shrugs.

“I’d like that.” You nod, face heating up.

Cal starts moving, cleaning up a little. You stay seated on the couch and when he’s done he comes and leans over you, pressing his lips to yours. “It’s ok to be nervous… we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, just keep talking to me.”

“Ok.” You nod.

Cal takes his time, getting you down to your bra and panties, getting him stripped down as well. His hands and lips everywhere, fully aware of you. He sinks to his knees in front of the couch and wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling you forward. He kisses on your thighs and then sits up on his knees and pulls you in for a kiss, “I wanna go down on you. Is that ok?” He murmurs.

You nod, “yeah, that’s ok.” You agree.

Cal immediately likes your fingers in his hair, it was different than he expected, he didn’t think you’d get into it. And you were tense at first, he took it slow then. And that leads to naked in the bedroom.

You wake up in the morning and look at Cal, naked beside you. He’d been sweet and happy to let you explore and ask for whatever. Your fingers absently trace over the newer tattoo on his chest. “Morning you.” He mumbles, pulling you in.

“Hey.” You say, “we should talk.”

“Mmm kay, What’s up.” He leans in to kiss you.

“I’m only here for like... another month.” You whisper.

“Ok…?” He starts, looking you over.

“Well… how far do you want this to go on limited time?”

“It doesn’t have to be limited. I think we see where it goes… and then decide. I don’t want every step of the way to be you or I counting down till we’re out. That doesn’t seem fair to anyone.” He watches you chew your lip, clearly thinking about it. “What has you nervous?”

“I dunno… that i was a kid when I was in my last relationship, that you're ashtons best friend, that I could like you this much and in a month it’ll all be over.” You shrug.

“Yeah… I don’t want you to think about any of those things. Can you just be here with me for now, we’ll figure ash out and the distance when we need to.” He cups your face and kisses your nose. “Please? For me?”

“I’ll try.” You agree.

“Fletch is your entire life and I get that. But doesn’t it feel nice to have something for you? And you don’t even have to feel bad about it because Ash is in the picture.” He asks.

You bite your lip again, but nod, and then Cal’s lips are on yours and things are heating up again, you let your hands explore his body some, and he’s holding on to you and pulling you closer.

He grabs his phone and turns some music on and then he’s leaning in to kiss you again, resetting the mood. Would he love to have you again? Yeah, absolutely. But he also wants to take it slow with you. He feels like it’s the right thing to do by you.

The bedroom door slams against the wall and you two pull apart.

“Interesting.” Ash says, “thought we talked about this.” He says, looking at you. Cal’s pulling at the blanket to make sure you’re covered.

Taglist: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @september09241994 @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @slimthicccal @softboycal @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @therealmrshale

gc tags: @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @5sosnsfw @angelbabylu @aspiringwildfire @irwinkitten @lashtoncurls @myloverboyash @singt0mecalum

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

#drama llama #dad!ashton #daddy ashton #but cal #calum hood #sfw mostly #ashton irwin #meet fletch #its long #cass #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #what else do i tag this?#do yall read tags?

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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The 21 Best Christmas Horror Movies

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Technicolor lights are about to illuminate every other home in the neighborhood; carolers are marching through the streets; even that old tree in Rockefeller is shining brightly.

For some folks, that’s enough to make you want to grab an axe. But don’t do that. Watch demented men dressed as Santa Claus or a demon Krampus indulge your Anti-Christmas sentiments with maximum gore. Indeed, this list isn’t about the most charming, heartwarming, or schmaltzy Christmas viewing traditions. Nah, this is about the 20 grossest, nastiest, and all around most fun Christmas horror movies. The kind where the greatest gift you’re going to get on Christmas morning is escaping with your life and maybe some psychological triggers whenever you see jolly men in red suits.

Yep, these are the very best Christmas horror movies. Ho. Freaking. Ho.

Anna and the Apocalypse (2017)

Almost certainly one of the sweetest, most positive, and upbeat Christmas movies on the list is this wonderful feel good musical romance from director John McPhail, which also happens to be a zombie movie. It follows a group of friends in a small Scottish town who are just about to finish school and are making plans for the future when a zombie outbreak lands.

Incredibly catchy tunes which take inspiration from Buffy musical episode Once More With Feeling, mix with inventive festive kills – zombie snowman decapitation is a highlight – in a way that manages not to tonally jar. It’s mostly thanks to the super-likeable performances of the young cast, headed up by Ella Hunt, and the teenage troubles, romances, and heartbreak which form the backdrop of the movie. Paul Kaye also pops up as the school’s tyrannical headmaster – his musical numbers aren’t the best but he brings cartoon villain energy to an unusual but rather adorable Christmas horror that’s way better than you might expect.

– Rosie Fletcher

Better Watch Out (2016)

Home Alone is surely one of the most popular and iconic Christmas movies of all time, though it is not, of course, a horror. However, if it was, it would look something like Better Watch Out, a slick reinvention of the home invasion sub-genre. Olivia DeJonge plays babysitter Ashley, who attempts to protect her charge, 12-year-old Luke (Levi Miller), when they are threatened by intruders in his home. But all is not as it seems.

DeJonge and Miller spar beautifully in a movie which plays with gender and coming of age tropes and includes handfuls of gruesome set pieces, while Ed Oxenbould brings comic relief. This is clever, funny and gruesome stuff from director Chris Peckover which might not become a new Christmas tradition but should definitely be watched at least once.

– Rosie Fletcher

Black Christmas (1974)

Getting stabbed by a unicorn head to the tune of carolers singing “Silent Night” is probably not how you want to spend Christmas Eve. This pre-Scream holiday slasher claims its victims in a sorority house haunted by creepy phone calls (sans ghost mask), demonic noises, bodies eerily shrouded in plastic wrap, and one perverse killer whose voice alone is enough to freeze your blood.

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When an unidentified caller keeps harassing your entire sorority house with obscene things you can only half-understand (because he sounds like a deranged Donald Duck that laughs like the Joker), you should run even if it is 10 degrees outside. The blizzard of murders keeps raging with one victim dragged screaming by a hook, and another bludgeoned to death. Never mind the one suffocated by plastic wrap and left next to the window like the vacant face of a doll staring out into the night. You’ll hardly sleep in heavenly peace after this one.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Christmas Evil (aka You Better Watch Out) (1980)

In his one and only film as writer/director, Lewis Jackson crafted a smart and clever black comedy that’s more character study than straight horror film. John Waters insists it’s a comedy about a closeted transvestite (of a sort), but it’s much more than that—it’s the Taxi Driver of Yuletide shockers. Brandon Maggart plays a man who takes Christmas way too seriously. His home is filled with bright holiday decorations all year-round while Christmas carols are playing on the stereo. Santa is his role model, a symbol of all that is good and just in the world. He even works at a toy factory.

He so identifies with Santa, he takes to spying on the neighbor kids, keeping his own carefully annotated naughty and nice lists. But when he recognizes the level of cynicism and hypocrisy among his co-workers, bosses, and the people around town as the most joyous time of the year approaches, well, he goes a little funny in the head. He reaches for the suit and beard and axe, determined to reward the good and punish the evil.

Maggart has since tried to desperately distance himself from the film, but he gives a remarkable performance here as a completely isolated figure with a head swimming with both joy and rage. In the end, the film remains king of the sub-subgenre. Screw It’s a Wonderful Life and Rudolph. Apart from Blast of Silence and Invasion U.S.A., Christmas Evil is the only holiday film I watch annually.

– Jim Knipfel

A Christmas Horror Story (2015)

Admittedly, a number of horror-based Christmas movie have gone with the anthology angle for their storytelling. Hell, this isn’t even the only anthology film on this list. A Christmas Horror Story may not be on a lot of people’s radar, but it’s a worthy installment that goes to some unusual places purely because both the Christmas and anthology playgrounds have gotten so bloated at this point. This film also benefits from being executed by a cabal of directors who are responsible for directing some of the best horror movies to come out of Canada in passing years, such as Splice, the Black Christmas remake, and the Ginger Snaps trilogy.

A Christmas Horror Story deliciously uses a radio DJ (William Shatner) as the connective tissue that holds together the four stories that comprise the film. Parables on ghost possession, clone doppelgangers, Krampus, and zombie elves all get their due here. The film also has a pretty inspired ending that actually casts the picture in a whole new light. It’s got Santa Claus fighting Krampus. What’s not to like?

– Daniel Kurland

Dead of Night (1945)

Never play hide and go seek in a house where someone was murdered. While it might be best known for Michael Redgrave’s night-terror-inducing ventriloquist dummy scene that sparked the phobia of possessed puppets, Dead of Night also invites you to a Christmas party with a spectral guest. Spacecase Sally’s genuine terror at realizing what she thinks she saw is what she really saw will forever have you second-guessing shadows creeping in the cold.

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What is obvious in this scene—encroaching darkness and shadows looming over what a place you know is haunted without ever having to hear the big reveal—is hardly as chilling as what is not so obvious until the truth silently materializes. The ghost of the little boy plays hide-and-seek with the other children as if warm blood courses through his veins. Unlike many stereotypical see-through phantoms of the era, this one doesn’t have that telltale translucence which would set off a chorus of screams. Being almost disturbingly normal is exactly what makes him so terrifying.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

Eyes Wide Shut was the non-denominational star at the top of Stanley Kubrick’s Christmas tree. Originally conceived as a Woody Allen vehicle, it almost starred Steve Martin after Allen insisted on reading the script from right to left. It is as much a cautionary tale as Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, bringing the whole family together with a different Christmas tree in almost every frame.

Kubrick pours on the cheer from the opening sequence at the Christmas party where the first gifts are unwrapped, and oh boy are they unwrapped. Bill Harford, played by Tom Cruise, dives right into the muffled spirit of giving after he performs a more than charitable deed for the party’s host, played by Sydney Pollack.

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Harford spends most of the film looking for the perfect gift like a slow motion version of Jingle All the Way, rushing around from New York City’s famous toy repository FAO Schwartz to downtown specialty shops, to the suburbs, where he can find collectors’ editions. Cruise pays Harford like a wooden windup toy, and not a particularly cute one, either. In spite of all the colorful lights and trips above and below the rainbow, Harford just can’t get into the Christmas spirit. He’s not even moved by the uplifting seasonal tunings of “I Want a Boy for Christmas” by the Del-Vettes. He recovers his seasonal facilities while humming along to the chant during the climactic illuminati sex party, though! The song is actually “Here Comes Santa Claus” sung backwards in Latin, adding more menace to the proceedings than Silas Barnaby brought to Toyland in The March of the Wooden Soldiers.

– Tony Sokol

Gremlins (1984)

Santa doesn’t exist… unless it’s your father in a red suit who met his untimely end trying to slide down the chimney with a sack of presents before getting stuck. Don’t tell that to the innocent bat-like ears of a harmless (for now) Mogwai. It’s exactly the kind of story you expect to hear while hunkering down in the shadows with a flashlight while a bunch of leathery green things with too many teeth ransack the neighborhood.

And as for Santa? That smell coming from the fireplace weeks later was no dead cat. Worst. Christmas story. Ever.

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This movie should be on every hardcore horror fan’s holiday playlist just for the musical monstrosity of those reptilian things decked out in Santa hats and earmuffs singing “Deck the Halls” at the neighbors’ door, sheet music and all. This is continuing proof that animals have a sixth sense, because her yowling cat senses something off about the voices warbling “Joy to the World” outside. She’s right to have an aversion to Christmas carolers.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Holidays (2015)

There have been so many holiday-themed horror films at this point—reaching Christmas and going far, far beyond that—so why not make an anthology film that takes that idea to the extreme? Holidays hits the expected staples such as Christmas, Halloween, and Valentine’s Day, but part of the fun here is how holidays with lesser expectations like Easter or St. Patrick’s Day deliver some truly horrifying content (seriously, the St. Patrick’s Day segment is disturbing, bonkers chaos).

The Christmas segment comes courtesy of Scott Stewart (Legion) and has Seth Green trying to survive the holiday as he attempts to get his son the perfect gift. Stewart’s installment feels very reminiscent of a Black Mirror episode with virtual reality, consumerism, and the dangers of mob mentality all playing their part here.

A lot of these anthology films also try to bank off of the name recognition and notoriety of the assembled directors, but Holidays proudly features a collection of mostly fresh faces (although Kevin Smith and Starry Eye’s Kevin Kolsch contribute segments). It’s fun to discover a bunch of new blossoming talents here.

– Daniel Kurland

Jack Frost (1997)

This ain’t the cringeworthy father/son bonding vehicle starring Michael Keaton. No, this is the Jack Frost where the killer snowman’s nose functions as both a killing tool and a device to sexually assault his victims. All square? But hey, at the least the film isn’t afraid to ride its ridiculous premise as hard as possible.

First of all, an actual killer named Jack Frost crashes into a truck of “genetics material” that causes him to transform into this cold abomination in the first place. That sets the tone pretty nicely for the abundant murders, sex, and plot holes that plague the town of Snowmonton (yup). It’s hard to believe that this film got made, with all of the visuals being some real spectacles that you don’t typically see in the horror genre.

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Jack Frost is the perfect Christmas horror film to shut your brain off and watch, or the title that you should be selecting right in the middle of your deep eggnog haze. It’s utter nonsense, but it knows that it is and has tons of fun with itself. We need more talented individuals trying to tap into the killer snowman subgenre. There’s still a true classic waiting to come to life here.

– Daniel Kurland

Krampus (2015)

Morbidly funny in its anti-holiday sarcasm and ridiculous demons, Krampus is like a mashup of the Griswolds, the Grinch, and every mythical beast that has ever been rumored to devour children on the naughty list. You’d rather get coal in your stocking than a killer jack-in-the-box jump scare… or find chilling hoof prints in the snow that are definitely not from Rudolph.

Krampus is one Yuletide monster actually worse than the Grinch. The grisly inspiration for this tale is a Germanic one about a hairy, horned, and cloven-hooved demon who stuffs naughty children in his sack and either beats them with a wooden switch or eats them (depending on who you ask). Also, his heart won’t grow three sizes from gorging on human flesh, either.

This version of Krampus is also hungry for anyone who’s lost their holiday spirit—whether or not you otherwise qualify for the nice list. Watch this with the lights off for the full effect of the power outage that works to the creature’s advantage as he goes hunting for holiday nonbelievers. Kids, don’t scorn Santa or Krampus will come to collect you.

– Elizabeth Rayne

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

There are some of us who know this movie verbatim and to the point where we will shamelessly break out singing “This is Halloween” and raise Jack’s quasi-Shakespearean monologue from the dead even in the middle of July. Or keep warning people that tragedy’s at hand. Or correct anyone who says there are 365 days until next Halloween by growling “364!” The stop-motion animation saga of the talking skeleton turned “Sandy Claws” bewitched an entire generation of ‘90s kids.

Even people who hate Halloween will stare with delight and awe when Jack’s skull bursts out of a snowdrift, and he first puts colored lights in his eye sockets and explores every “what’s this?” in Christmas Town like a spook in a coffin shop. You just can’t help but love the adventurous skeleton, even if he does end up making haunted houses out of people’s living rooms on Christmas Eve. Whether you’d rather be making Christmas with strangely somber carols, reanimated reindeer or toys that bite back, it’s now an officially unofficial holiday classic.

– Elizabeth Rayne

P2 (2007)

On the sillier end of the Christmas horror spectrum comes P2, a film named after a section in a parking lot, starring Wes Bentley and Rachel Nichols. She’s a business woman trapped in a multi-story parking garage on Christmas Eve, he’s the insane Security Guard who’s obsessed with her and really wants her to try his festive eggnog, so to speak.

Camp and gory, this is the directorial debut of Franck Khalfoun who would follow it up with a remake of Maniac. The movie was co-written by Alexandre Aja who made one of the greatest cat-and-mousers ever in Switchblade Romance. The set up is formulaic, perhaps, but the game performances and relentlessness of the action makes this worthwhile. And if that’s not enough check out a deranged Bentley dressed as Santa, for the angel on the top of the Christmas tree.

– Rosie Fletcher

Rare Exports (2010)

There couldn’t possibly be a more sinister place to search for Santa’s ancient burial mound than in the frigid depths of Lapland. It’s the same supposedly enchanted place Dick van Dyke hiked to in the search for Santa in an ‘80s musical Christmas special, except this time you won’t find him in a cozy cottage with stockings hung by the chimney with care. You won’t find the guy in red from the mall, but anything that takes a disembodied pig’s head as bait couldn’t possibly be jingle-belling on a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer, especially when he seems to have a ravenous appetite for said reindeer.

This time, “the spirit of the season” is literally the most malicious Christmas spirit that has ever terrorized the Yuletide. Even if you watch the whole thing in Finnish and don’t understand a word except the screaming, the ghost of the child in you that really did believe there was a guy in the North Pole will be forever traumatized. This glaze-eyed zombie incarnation of Mr. Claus doesn’t laugh like a bowl full of jelly. You better watch out, indeed.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Santa Claws (1996)

You do have to wonder what happened to John Russo along the line. 30 years after co-writing Night of the Living Dead, he came up with this decidedly sleazy but sadly unoriginal wonderment, which was much more focused on boobs than Yuletide butchery. In what by that point had become a battered cliché of the Slasher Santa subgenre, a young boy named Wayne (Grant Kramer) sees his mom having sex with a man wearing a Santa hat (!), and so murders them both. I’m not exactly sure how this transference would work in Freudian terms, but when he gets older, he a) becomes obsessed with a low-budget scream queen named Raven (played by low-budget scream queen Debbie Rochon) and b) decides he’s Santa.

As you might imagine, stalking someone when you’re wearing a Santa suit is no mean feat, but Wayne gives it his best shot. Most of the film, however, focuses on Raven and her extended family as she gets undressed a lot and wonders not only why that creep in the Santa suit keeps showing up everywhere, but why everyone around her keeps dying in a particularly bloody fashion. It can feel like there are two films going on here, a by-the-numbers stalker/slasher movie and a holiday horror film, which leaves me thinking Russo had one of them in mind, but after some eight-year-old smarty-pants came up with that clever “Santa Claws” pun, well, he just had to run with it.

– Jim Knipfel

Santa’s Slay (2005)

Christmas can sure scare the Dickens out of people. Hence why you can’t not watch a holiday horror flick in which Santa is the Antichrist, sentenced to 1,000 years of delivering gifts after losing a curling match with an angel, and played by former pro wrestler Bill “Who’s Next?” Goldberg.

As the only son of Satan (you know what they say about rearranging the letters in that name) whose grim legend is immortalized in the Book of Claus, he can now at last spread Christmas fear with weapons, karate kicks, hand grenades, exploding presents, and his own perverse idea of what “Ho ho ho” should really mean. Them’s the breaks once the bet’s terms are done.

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Santa’s methods of murder are fiendishly festive—to say the least. There is no naughty or nice list when it comes to an insatiable appetite for violence. He even knocks out poseurs in red suits and drives a sleigh with a rocket engine like it’s the Batmobile. Mall Santas everywhere are shaking in their pleather boots.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984)

Naughty children get punished with more than just a stocking full of coal in this Christmas chiller. Just the opening scene with all those empty-eyed animatronic toys haunting a window display after-hours should tell you that this is not a movie that’s going to end in visions of sugarplums. Forget that it’s supposed to be the season of all things magical. Those things can be more terrifying than every single plastic skeleton and gaping zombie mask you’ll ever see in a haunted house around Halloween.

You’d better watch out for that psycho in the red suit who grabs a hatchet off the wall as if it was his bag full of toys and packs an automatic pistol in his fur-lined pocket, murdering misbehaving kids he’s been watching undercover of shadow. This sadistic Santa clearly doesn’t believe in sliding down chimneys—and the only red he’s interested in wearing is the blood of innocents. If that won’t convince you to stay awake because he sees you when you’re sleeping, you must be Freddie Krueger.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (1987)

Three years after the shit-storm sparked by the original’s ad campaign, some smart cookie decided a sequel was necessary. A tough call there, given most all the principals were killed off pretty thoroughly the first time around, but still, right?

But there was money to be made, so they brought in an untested director (Lee Harry), a mostly untested crew, and a cast of mostly non-professional actors. After a half-dozen writers took a swipe at the script, they came up with a confounding but tepid rehash of the first film. This time around, and mostly in flashback, we learn that after the first killer Santa was sloppily dispatched at the end of Part 1, his brother Ricky becomes determined to uncover what went wrong.

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He pays a visit to the sadistic Mother Superior at the Catholic asylum where his brother had been kept, and before you can say “ho ho ho,” Ricky ends up donning the red and white suit himself to do a little rampaging, though without nearly half of his brother’s imagination. They even used the same fucking poster design, just slapped a “2” on it. I guess hoping they might raise the same sort of ruckus the first one had. Sadly, it was too late for that.

– Jim Knipfel

Sint (2010)

Dutch director Dick Maas took some early steps toward Krampus territory with his re-imagining of the legend of the warm-hearted Saint Nick. Borrowing heavily from earlier Italian, Spanish, and American horror films, as well as Danish folklore, “Sinterklaas” here was actually a bloodthirsty medieval murderer and all around brute who oversaw a savage reign of terror. Finally fed up with all his nonsense, the ornery local villagers banded together on the night of Dec. 5 and lynched him. As per tradition, however, in the moments before he died Sinterklaas vowed vengeance from beyond the grave, promising to return every 32 years on that very night to do bad and icky things to the villagers’ descendants.

Over the centuries, the story was mainstreamed and soft-pedaled, becoming part of the local folklore. The character of Saint Nick became much more benevolent and child-friendly so as not to scare the wee folk. Then, well, wouldn’t you know it? That anniversary creeps around again, Sinterklaas is true to his word, and Amsterdam turns all bloody, leaving it up to an intrepid teenager named Frank to put a stop to the mayhem.

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A stylish, wicked, and hugely entertaining take on the darker history of a beloved legend. It was also the top grossing film in Denmark in 2010, which either says something about the Danish film industry or the Dutch themselves.

– Jim Knipfel

Tales From the Crypt: And All Through the House (1972)

The Crypt Keeper first emerged as a ghoulish EC Comics horror host in the pages of Tales From the Crypt who crawled onto the big screen in this horror anthology, welcoming unknowing tourists to his catacombs with bony arms open. What the tourists don’t know is that they’re all recently deceased. The invite is to a subterranean story-time in which he unearths the gruesome details of their deaths with a gap-toothed grin. Creatures are obviously stirring when killer wife Joanne is stalked by a homicidal Santa in this warped homage to ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas titled (appropriately enough) “… And All Through the House.”

So it is that “O Come All Ye Faithful” is interrupted while playing on the radio by a scratchy warning of a homicidal maniac run amok. And wouldn’t you just know it, this occurs right as Joan Collins is offing her husband with a shot to the head—and then realizes she has to dismember the body before cashing in on his life insurance. Her blissfully naïve daughter lets the killer jolly old elf in, shrieking that Santa finally came before he erupts into psychopathic rage. Clement C. Moore must be turning in his grave.

– Elizabeth Rayne

The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Certainly less purely Christmas-y than other entries on this list, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is nonetheless a wintry delight set during the holiday season. Carols play ominously in the background during key moments, and the immaculately snowy white setting of Snow Hollow, Utah is broken only by splashes of color from lights on homes and Christmas trees. Oh yes, and the blood of the titular werewolf’s victims.

Movies

The Wolf of Snow Hollow Review: A Quirky Werewolf Movie

By Don Kaye

Movies

13 Must-See Werewolf Movies

By Mike Cecchini

Jim Cummings’ film is heavy on cozy, ski town holiday atmosphere without leaning on its actual Christmastime setting at all. But good werewolf movies are a rare breed indeed these days, and a werewolf movie set at Christmas? Well…now you know what to watch when the moon is full each December

Mike Cecchini

Got any other suggestions for Christmas horror movies that we missed? Let us know in the comments!

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clifford5sosx · 5 years ago

Text

5SOS Chat

Who: The 5SOS Boys

What: Being themselves

Where: A Hotel in LA

When: Aug 3, 2020

Rating: Let’s give it a PG-13 for language and sex references

@famelukehemmings, @calumshoodstf, @latenightdemons

Ashton: Knock knock.

Calum: no ash

Ashton: I regret writing a song about you right now.

Luke: What did I just walk into

Ashton: Knock knock.

Luke: No Ashton

Ashton: I didn't write a song about you

Luke: Okay and?

Ashton: ???? Well I couldn't say I regretted writing one so I went with that.

Calum: you wrote a song for me??

Calum: it was best years, wasn’t it? you guys, you shouldn’t have

Luke: Shut up Calum

Ashton: Calum, please picture my eye roll.

Calum: ew don’t make me do that

Ashton: Mikey is about to be my favorite.

Luke: HEY

Calum: mikey is mine ash

Calum: malum all the way

Ashton: 🙄 fair.

Ashton: Shut up, Like. You've always been my favorite.

Ashton: Luke too.

Calum: Is like luke’s evil twin brother?

Ashton: Oh god.

Ashton: I don't need two of them.

Luke: I'll give you two of me out of fucking spite now

Luke: Trying to trade my ass in for Mikey

Calum: All mikey does is play video games, he’s the least problematic of us all

Ashton: I wasn't trading the ass, I was reading the whole human.

Luke: Fine! I'll trade you in for another Drummer

Ashton: You act like I could trade you actually.

Luke: It wouldn't stop you from trying

Ashton: .......

Luke: Yeah that's what I thought

Ashton: 🙄

Luke: Did you just roll your eyes at me?

Ashton: I did. Gonna do something about it?

Luke: You are so lucky I love you

Ashton: 🙄

Luke: Slowly that love is turning to hatred

Ashton: Is it?

Luke: Yes it is

Ashton: I don't even know what love is.

Luke: Well that’s a depressing thought

Calum: could you guys not

Ashton: Not what?

Ashton: Sometimes thoughts are depressing.

Luke: I'm aware of how depressing thoughts can be.

Ashton: I was also joking. I love my drums.

Luke: Your drums don't count they're inatimate

Ashton: Just break my heart, why don't you?

Luke: I would never break your heart!

Ashton: 🤔

Calum: yes he would

Luke: I would not!

Calum: I know, I know.

Mikey: Boys, what are you doing? And who is breaking who?

Luke: No one is breaking anyone!

Mikey: What? I was looking forward to some action. Damn.

Luke: Well you've come to the wrong place

Mikey: What about Ashton's heart?

Luke: He said I was breaking his heart because he loves his drums and I told him that his drum don't count because they're inatimate

Ashton: He's breaking my heart.

Mikey: For him, that counts.

Calum: Ladies please

Luke: IM NOT BREAKING YOUR HEART

Mikey: I don't think he's had a real relationship since.... shit

Ashton: It's BROKEN.

Luke: I'm just gonna shut up now

Ashton: ..........I've had more fuck buddies then actual partners, yes. You're correct.

Luke: I don't want to hear about all your fuck buddies

Calum: I’m almost to the hotel, put on your happy face because I know you fuckers have missed me.

Mikey: I hope you aren't talking about drumsticks

Luke: I'll get right on that Calum

Mikey: Any word on our housing situation. Do we get a beach house or what?

Ashton: Ew Michael.

Ashton: Why not, Luke?

Ashton: What's a happy face.

Luke: I'm working on it, I have to talk to Harry about it but I'm sure the offer is still on the table

Calum: Yes, let’s get a fucking beach house!

Calum: Please, I wanna play bass shirtless in the sunset while the waves are crashing

Ashton: A beach house.

Mikey: For us, it better be. I'm gonna sit out on the beach at sunset and get shitfaced.

Calum: Yes. This will be fun ash

Ashton: I'm terrified

Luke: Listen I felt pressuered into doing this! The house was supposed to be mine not for all of us

Luke: But I love you all so why not

Ashton: I just kind of nod my head and agree.

Luke: Well if it brings us all together again I'm okay with it

Mikey: Plus there is Ashton's heart

Ashton: What about my heart.

Ashton: Awww Luke misses us.

Luke: What about his heart?

Luke: Shut up, Ashton

Ashton: Make me.

Luke: I'll pass

Ashton: 🙄

Luke: Why are you always rolling your eyes at me?

Mikey: I'm not

Mikey: I'm just saying

Luke: I think I should second guess actually living with the three of you

Ashton: My heart????? What about my heart?

Ashton: .........because rolling my eyes is fun.

Luke: I don't know! It was Mikey! I don't even think he knows what he was talking about

Ashton: 🤣

Ashton: I'm teaching myself tiktok dances.

Luke: Half the time I don't even know what he's talking about

Luke: NO

Luke: NO NO NO! You will not fall victim to that!

Ashton: ....But I look good.

Luke: I-

Luke: No comment

Mikey: His arms are big.

Mikey: Again - just saying.

Mikey: I'm also a great roommate

Mikey: Cal is too, and what will he do without us

Luke: I've noticed how big his arms are

Ashton: There's one that's like "come and fuck my life up" and then you push the camera down. And I'm kind of amused by it.

Ashton: Mikey has a point.

Mikey: Mikey - who, what?

Ashton: I said you had a pooooint.

Luke: See he doesn't even know what he talks about

Mikey: Yeah, that's what I thought. Just checking.

Luke: You had a point Mikey

Ashton: 🤣

Ashton: Also it's nice to know "I look good" gets a no comment

Luke: I said no comment

Luke: Thats kinda a comment

Mikey: I said your arms were big and Luke agreed

Luke: No one wants my comment trust me on this

Mikey: I'm not sure I want to guess at that comment

Luke: No Mikey you don't

Ashton: I'm curious.

Luke: No Ashton, you're not

Ashton: 👀

Luke: You're not, Irwin

Ashton: 👀

Luke: Stop giving me those eyes!

Ashton: 👀👀

Luke: Ashton Fletcher Irwin!

Ashton: Yes?

Luke: Stop it

Ashton: But.

Luke: but what? there's no buts

Ashton: I have a butt.

Luke: Yes yes you do

Ashton: ......

Luke: Okay time to change the subject

Ashton: I'm learning a lot.

Mikey: Do you guys want to share a room?

Ashton: What.

Mikey: Also, what about Luke? He's really tall, knows how to dress.

Ashton: He's basically a bean stalk with a good fashion sense.

Luke: Shut the fuck up, Clifford

Luke: Well gee thanks

Ashton: Was a compliment.

Luke: Calling me a bean stalk is not a compliment

Mikey: He's filled out a bit. Five years ago he was a beanstalk.

Mikey: I'm just helping.

Ashton: Helping...?

Luke: Mikey, Mikey darling just stop

Mikey: I'm helping. Come on, Ash, it's your turn.

Ashton: You've gotta tell me what you're helping with.

Ashton: Because what am I taking a turn on?!

Mikey: Okay what about him turns you on?

Luke: MICHAEL GORDON CLIFFORD

Luke: WE ARE NOT DISCUSSING THIS

Ashton: I just choked.

Mikey: Why? I'm helping. That's Doctor Clifford to you.

Ashton: And I'm highly amused.

Luke: Helping with what?

Luke: I swear to god I am going to hurt you

Mikey: Ashton, you did not answer my question.

Ashton: 🤣

Ashton: I love seeing him sweat. This is amusimg

Luke: Mikey! Stop it!

Luke: Oh my god I'm trading this whole damn band in

Calum: Hey! What did I do!

Calum: I walk back in this chat and I see you’re trading us in?

Luke: Okay I'll keep Cal

Luke: But you two are gone

Ashton: Because Mikey's helping

Calum: Thank you 😍

Luke: HELPING WITH WHAT?!

Luke: Embarassing me?

Ashton: And I have no idea what he's helping with

Calum: In other news

Mikey: Luke, his answer is everything, he just doesn't want to say.

Ashton: Calum.

Luke: Mikey stop it OMG

Calum: I might be a bit late getting to the hotel, I have a stop to make

Ashton: Are you getting laid.

Mikey: MAKE WHAT

Luke: I dont need to know about anyone getting laid

Ashton: Also how am I embarrassing you?!

Calum: Wow ash, you read me like a book

Calum: It’ll literally be like five minutes

Ashton:.......Man. I hope it doesn't take five minutes.

Luke: Not you, Ash! Mikey

Calum: Mate

Luke: la la la la I can't hear any of this

Ashton: I love fucking with all of you. It's fun.

Mikey: Sure you can. He's behind you staring at you all night.

Luke: jackass

Calum: It’s been a hot minute, so I gotta do what I gotta do.

Calum: Text you all soon

Luke: MICHAEL STOP OH MY GOD

Calum: 😍

Mikey: Cal, you sound like you gotta piss, not fuck

Calum: Jesus mate, what do you want me to say??

Calum: I’m about to go to pound town on a girl I hardly know??

Calum: Luke is going to literally die of embarrassment

Mikey: I know what you meant, but never say it'll just take a minute

Mikey: Unless it will just take a minute

Mikey: and that is a little sad.

Calum: No, idk. I don’t know her.

Ashton: I'm crying.

Calum: Literally tinder over here is nuts

Calum: Aussie girls are hard to get but American girls??

Mikey: Sex first then you can get to know her.

Calum: EXACTLY

Mikey: See, Mikey solves everything

Ashton: ....this is the first thing you've solved all night.

Calum: Oh what the fuck

Calum: She dipped

Mikey: I'm working on the rest. I think you and Luke should share a room

Luke: No Michael

Ashton: Why?

Luke: Did Calum get stood up?

Calum: I did... what the fuck man

Luke: Lets focus on that, K Mikey?

Luke: Focus on Cal

Calum: No, it’s fine. Damnit.

Calum: Okay, alright, I’m heading to the hotel now.

Ashton: Michael, answer me and then we focus on Cal.

Mikey: Wait, what?

Luke: Fuck

Calum: Let’s all just regroup. I’m hugging all of you as soon as I see you all.

Mikey: How? Were you supposed to meet her?

Calum: Yes.

Calum: And she backed out.

Calum: I’m not mad

Ashton: She's a dumb shit.

Mikey: Oh shit, what was she doing instead?

Calum: Right? I’m a stud. How could anyone resist these curls?

Calum: Or

Mikey: curls?

Luke: Dude maybe she got nervous

Ashton: You're adorable.

Luke: And where tf do you have curls?!

Calum: Yeah, idk where curls came from

Calum: I used to have curls

Ashton: 🤣

Calum: Should I bring them back?

Luke: I have curls

Luke: NO

Ashton: Yes you should.

Luke: Thats my thing now

Calum: Remember that poll I did on Twitter

Calum: And I said no curls

Calum: Well

Calum: Now I’m gonna put a new one up

Ashton: 🤣

#Here it is #and I'm home at last so replies coming

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wantstoflyafraidtofall · 5 years ago

Link

Chapter 1: Afternoon Shadows

Send an ask if you want to be in the tag list for this fic!

---

The car rolled up the crunchy gravel driveway and came to a slow stop in front of the house. Dean took the keys out of the ignition and turned off the radio before getting out of the car and grabbing his bags from the trunk.

The house was old and relatively large with 4 bedrooms, each with its own full bathroom. Large stone steps led up to a set polished dark oak doors, set with intricate stained glass windows. On either side of the door stretched a porch with an overhang held up by thick, sandstone composite pillars.

The wood of the porch creaked as Dean walked across it. The key easily slid into and turned the lock in the handleset knob. The door gracefully swung open to reveal a large open atrium with a library off to the left through a set of glass paned french doors and a living room to the right through a large arch.

Stairs were set in the center back of the atrium that rose to a landing before splitting in separate directions. A large crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, lighting both the entryway and hall balconies above.

Two doors were on either side of the stairs. One led down a hallway with 3 rooms--a half bath, laundry and mudroom that had a door to the back yard, and the door to the cellar. The other door led into the kitchen. The kitchen had yet another door that led into a bright sunroom with skylights and shelves set into the walls.

None of the lights in the house were on but it was beautifully lit by the natural light seeping through the windows.

Dean picked up his duffles from where he set them on the porch while unlocking the door and carried them up the stairs. He went up the right staircase and chose the room at the end of the hall.

There was already a bed in the room but other than kitchen appliances, beds, and laundry machines, the house was unfurnished. The moving truck was on its way with the rest of the furniture Dean bought for the house when he first visited it.

A rumble and crunch of gravel alerted Dean that the moving truck(speak of the devil) was here. A few young men hopped out of the truck and began pulling out the furniture. After about 20 minutes, everything had been moved into the house and placed where Dean had directed.

Boxes were stacked up in messy towers in most rooms. Dean walked into the library and opened one of the larger boxes. It was filled with books given to him throughout the years by friends and family but mostly Sam.

Dean would never admit to it, but he enjoyed a good book. Sam saw right through his lies and brought him all sorts of books.

Dean left the box open and walked over to the walnut book shelves set into the walls. He ran his fingers over the polished wood, leaving trails in the dust that had accumulated on the shelves in the absence of books.

He wiped his hand on his jeans and walked to the kitchen. Smaller brown boxes were scattered around the room on the counters and floor. He grabbed the one labeled ‘fridge’ and pulled off the tape holding it shut.

Inside the box were some magnets and a few pictures. He pulled them out one at a time. First a picture of his brother, Sammy, and his wife, Jess, sitting in the yard with their dog, Bones. A picture of Mary smiling in the afternoon sun. Pictures of His father, Bobby, Sammy, and Dean himself laughing together or fishing or fixing up a car.

After pinning all the pictures to the fridge with some magnets, he reached what he was looking for. He pulled out the pad of sticky notes and a pen-- both had magnets attached to them so they would hang on the refrigerator-- and started his To-Do list.

Dust

Unpack boxes

Groceries

Call Bobby

Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and found Bobby in his contacts, pressing the call button.

After Dean's mother died, John drowned his sorrows in alcohol. He would release Hell’s fury on Dean and Dean took it to keep Sammy safe. When Bobby found out he became his and Sam's father figure, having them move into his house and help with the cars in his shop.

Bobby picked up after 3 rings

“Hello?”

“Hey Bobby. I'm at the house, gonna start unpacking tomorrow.”

“Is everything fine down there?”

“Yup. Tell Ellen thanks for me will ya? She’s too good to me.”

“Of course and we will do anything for ya idjits.”

“You said she got this house from a relative in their will right?”

“Sure did. Her great aunt left a little somethin’ to all her great nieces and nephews. She really loved Ellen so she gave her the house but only bits of her money to the rest.”

“Well it's damn lucky she has such a good family and that you and her got each other. I've gotta head out and get some food before I starve to death in this place. Thanks again, Bobby.”

“No problem, and Dean, take care of yourself.”

Dean ended the call, placing his phone on the counter with a sigh. As soon as he moved to go get his keys, his phone began to ring again. He looked at the screen name and answered.

“Hiya Sammy. Calling to check up on me?”

“Yes and No. I actually have a… favor to ask.”

Dean paused for a moment, wondering what kind of favor was making his brother so nervous to ask him about before replying. “Whatcha need?”

“I have a friend who just finished college and is out of a house. He is near your area and that house is big enough to fit the both of you so would it be ok if he stayed there till he finds a decent apartment?”

Dean never keeps people close in fear of becoming too attached and losing them or being hurt by them. He has such a burden -- courtesy of his father -- that people who become too close to him have to help bear. But it's not like this friend of Sams is going to be staying that long and Sams right, the house is big. If Deans being honest, the house was a bit lonely and it would be nice to not be alone. Maybe it won't be so bad to have another warm body in the house.

“Sure thing, Sammy. Can you, uh, tell me who he is and when he’s coming?”

“That's great! His name is Castiel Novak and he will be coming in about three days. He’s nice and quiet and won’t bother you much. You need some more people in that big house anyway you will get lonely and depre-”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, don’t make me take back my choice.” Dean grumbled.

“Ok, I'll tell him. Make sure you clean up a bit before he gets there.”

“Don't worry mom, I can take care of myself.”

Dean hung up the phone for a second time and decided to put it in his pocket in case anyone else wants to bother him on his grocery run. He should get extra food for this Castiel guy. Odd name, huh?

He grabs the keys of a box sitting in the entryway and locks the large doors behind him before almost bouncing down the steps to his car.

Deans Black 1967 Chevy Impala had been left with Bobby at his shop while Dean moved. Baby is Dean's pride and joy. They way her engine purrs when he rides down the street and Led Zeppelin blasting through her speakers filled him with joy.

The ride to the store was short and there weren't any people in the small building other than himself and a rather bored looking cashier. He grabbed all of the food he needed for the next few days and a six-pack of beer and put them in his cart.

The cashier began to scan his items, glancing up at his face a few times before asking, “I've never seen you around before, are you moving into the old Fletcher house?”

“Uh, yeah. I am.”

The kashier -- kevin according to his nametag -- nodded as he finished scanning the items.

“Im Kevin, by the way,” The cashier looked back up at Dean and held out his hand.

“Dean,” He said before shaking his hand, “You look a bit young to be a year round employee, are you in school?”

“I'm in advanced placement at the college a few towns over.”

“Well nice to meetcha Kevin.”

“Uh huh, yup. Have a nice night, here’s your card.” He handed back Dean’s card before going back to looking extremely bored.

Dean loaded the groceries in the trunk and drove back to the Fletcher House, as Kevin had called it, the gravel crackling under Baby’s tires.

By the time Dean finished unloading the groceries and eating his extravagant dinner consisting of cereal and some beer when he was done, it was already 9:30. He sighed and went upstairs to his room to get ready for bed.

He changed his shirt and boxers for a clean pair and threw his dirty clothes over in the corner by a dresser Sam got him when he decided to get his own house. He had been living with Sam and his girlfriend Jess ever since he got his knee shot and was deemed “unfit for duty”.

Dean was in the military for 5 years as a Marine, just like his father, until he got hit with a bullet right in his knee while deployed. It never healed properly causing him to have a weak knee and enough reason to be sent home.

The bathroom was large with a white tiled floor and shower. The sink was set in the center of the granite counter top in front of a large, frameless, mirror.

Dean turned the water on and wetted his toothbrush before putting a decent sized glob of toothpaste on it. He brushed his teeth and spit out the minty foam. He turned the water back on and watched as the water washed the used toothpaste down the drain.

He looked up at the mirror, still bent over the sink. Standing in the doorway was a dark, shadowy figure. Dean whipped around to face the shadow but the door was empty. He turned back to the mirror, the doorway still empty, and rinsed of his toothbrush and set it on the counter.

Dean walked over to his bed and curled up under the duvet. He really needs to sleep more, he needs to get himself together before his housemate gets here. Castiel . This guy sounds like he’s going to be a little stuck up but it’s only temporary and even bad company is better than none.

He fell asleep. Unaware of the shadow watching him from the corner of the room.

#pieces of heaven and hell

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wildroseofarran · 5 years ago

Text

Come to Jesus || Fletcher & June

June: At precisely 8:03 p.m. there would be pounding on Fletcher's door followed by a very familiar voice shouting, "Fletcher Bradley Goodman!"

Fletcher: A text would vibrate her phone a moment later.

{Text} Still downstairs why are you shouting

June: June looked at her phone and went downstairs to plant herself in front of the shop door. She was carrying a takeout container and her jacket looked slightly...bulkier than usual. And to say she looked pissed would be the understatement of the century.

"Fletcher Bradley Goodman, you let me in right now!"

Fletcher: The shopkeeper lumbered to the door. His beard thicker their last meeting. His back was somewhat hunched, elongating his blue cardigan.

His greeting, "Ya pregnant?"

June: "That's what you're gonna say to me?!" She brushed past him and into the shop. "Not 'hey, June'? Not 'how's it going, June'? Not 'hey June, I decided to pop the question to Marion Weber and didn't tell you'?! What the hell is wrong with you!"

Fletcher: "Uh... Sure, come on in, Junebug. How ya been? What's eatin' ya?" The shop door was locked behind her.

June: "YOU'RE EATING ME!" She shoved the takeout container at him the moment he turned back around. "Eat this dinner I brought you!"

Fletcher: "M'I eatin' you or the takeout?"

June: "Ye-both! Eat the damn takeout and while you're at it you can tell me what the hell you're thinking!"

Fletcher: "Why ya mad? She ain't done nothin' t'ya." He sniffed the container and peeked inside.

June: Inside the container were homemade enchiladas and rice. Not from a restaurant, but from her own kitchen.

"Why am I mad? Fletcher, there's no way you're that blind! Don't you see what she's doing?!"

Fletcher: "She ain't doin' anything. M'the one that gave her a ring."

June: "She's manipulating you! She's taking advantage of you! She's inserting herself into your life and trying to drain what's left of it!"

Fletcher: "She's been in my life since middle school, June. Don't talk 'bout shit ya know nothin' about."

June: "Yeah, and what did she do while ya'll were in school? Was she a good honest friend who had your best interests at heart or did she purposefully lie to you and hurt you?"

Fletcher: "We were kids."

June: "There is no justification or excuse for what she did. She knew exactly what she was doing and I would bet money she would do the same now. The way she treated you is not how you treat someone you call your friend. That's not how you treat someone you've known for years, someone you've talked to and laughed with and shared experiences with. You don't sabotage their life and don't pick up the pieces just to rub them in your face. The way she's treated you isn't how you treat someone you love, and I may have been too young to be there, but I do know a little something about loving you, Fletcher Goodman!"

Fletcher: Fletcher bit his tongue while she spoke, shaking his head with exasperation. This was not what he wanted; what he needed he couldn't say, but certainly he could express desires.

"Thanks for the enchiladas. Ya gonna have some with me, or ya gonna go?"

June: "You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm leaving."

A soft, distressed 'mew' could be heard coming from...somewhere. June hugged her arms around herself and looked away, taking a deep breath to fight off what she knew was coming.

Fletcher: "So uh... what's that about?" He pointed to her jacket.

June: A little ear poking up behind the zipper would answer his question.

"He's in a mood," she said to the wall, not trusting herself to look at Fletcher yet.

Fletcher: "Well, yeah, he's stuffed in your jacket." Fletcher tilted his head at his guest.

June: “He’s in my jacket because he’s in a mood. He’s been clingy all day.”

Socks had poked his whole head out and was attempting to nuzzle her chin as he purred.

Fletcher: "Well, then go home n'be with your cat."

June: “My cat is here and so am I.” She finally turned to face him again. Her eyes looked red. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Fletcher: "June, don't ya fuckin' cry over shit that don't need cryin' over."

June: “I’m not crying! And if I was I get to decide what needs crying!”

Fletcher: "Is this just gonna be ya yellin' at me? Ya can take that home wit'cha."

June: “I already yelled at home,” she muttered.

Fletcher: "What?"

June: “Nothing. Are you going to eat?”

Fletcher: "I guess, shit."

June: “Good. Let’s go.”

Fletcher: "What d'ya want t'come outta this?"

June: “I just...” She took a deep breath and shrugged. “I feel like you’re slipping into a fog and I’m losing sight of you.”

Fletcher: "Go'on now. Ya make it sound like some Darth Vader shit. M'still here."

June: “Are you?” June asked softly, eyes glistening in spite of herself. “I’ve barely seen you lately. When I have it feels like you’re not really present. All you do is work.”

Fletcher: "S'easier then waitin' for shit that ain't gonna happen," he said quietly.

June: “So you’re just going to settle? You’re going to pull away from your life and just be in a relationship your heart isn’t in?”

Fletcher: He threw his hands up and let the dead weight slap back on his thighs. "M'just movin' on."

June: “And I have nothing against you moving on, Fletcher. If I believed that you love her and she loves you, I would be the first person congratulating you. If you looked the least bit happy, I would be jumping for joy and promising to you and to myself to give her a chance and be nice. But honey, I don’t. I love you so much. More than I think you’ll ever understand. I want you to be happy. I want you to be with someone who’s crazy about you, someone who wants to see you thrive. Someone you’re in love with.”

Fletcher: Deep breath. He just couldn't lie to her as easily as he could everyone else. They could lie together, but not to each other.

"No one's gonna love me the way ya think they should, June. Just put that outta your head right now. Okay? These are the cards m'dealin'."

June: He was wrong. June believed with all her heart that he was wrong. But right now, she didn't think he was ready to hear it. "They don't have to be your cards. You don't have to settle for the deck you have, you can get a new one. If it's a...physical thing you're really after, I'll buy you as many lap dances as you want and rent you the prettiest, healthiest hooker in North Carolina, but please, Fletcher. Don't do this to yourself."

Fletcher: "June, I've already given her a ring. I'm already in this. Now, we're gonna eat this, alright? We're gonna eat n'we ain't gonna discuss it. Tell me 'bout your day n'what's goin' on with ya."

June: "Nothing is set in stone." And that was the last she would say of it. For today. There was no way she was letting her best friend in the world make such a giant mistake. Marion had done enough damage; June wouldn't let her do anymore.

"Let's go upstairs then. Socks wants to see his mom."

Fletcher: "Fine. Lemme finish up what I was doin'." He shook his head. He knew what Marion had done, but he was wondering who had opened their mouth specifically to June. So, with that in mind, "Who told ya?"

June: "Does it matter? It should've been you."

Fletcher: "I asked so I wanna know."

June: "Your question should be who didn't tell me. I heard it from three people, including my old pal Liv Garcia. She told me as loudly and publicly as she possibly could to see how I would react. You remember Liv, she used to keep everyone who would listen up to date on how many men had dumped me on any given week and tell them how much of a whore I was."

Fletcher: "How the fuck ya stay friends with these people?"

June: "I don't. She ran into the pub to tell me while I was in the middle of pulling a damn beer for a customer."

Fletcher: "N'who else?"

June: "What are you gonna do, kneecap them for tattling?"

Fletcher: "Maybe."

June: "I won't point out what that tells me. We both know."

Fletcher: "That I like my life t'myself?"

June: "You should've told Marion not to shout it from the rooftops if you didn't want anyone to know."

Fletcher: "She didn't shout."

June: "She might as well have. Tell one group of moms at the carpool area and the whole town knows in the next hour."

Fletcher: Fletcher reemerged from the back curtain with a frown. "Who else told ya?"

June: "One of the moms at the carpool lane was my sister-in-law. But at least she had the decency to tell me in private."

Fletcher: "People think we're datin' or somethin'?"

June: "My family does. And apparently so do a lot of other people."

Fletcher: "Did people just decide t'ignore Luke?"

June: "You haven't been out in public enough to receive their pitying looks."

Fletcher: "Sucks that Luke n'what's-his-face left, but they were here. Fuck people that forget that."

June: "People don't give a fuck about what doesn't affect them. They'll openly pick apart your life while you're standing off to the side bleeding out. I know that better than anyone."

Fletcher: "What's it matter what they say? Ya ain't in love with me."

June: “They don’t care what’s true or not. They’ll keep at it until some poor unfortunate soul gives them something else to yap about.”

Fletcher: "What matters more, that they say it at all, that it's about me with ya, or that m'throwin' in the towel with Marion?"

June: “I don’t give a damn about them. I give a damn about you, and I really wish you would too, Fletcher.”

Fletcher: He gestured to the door. Right now he cared about just moving to the next room.

June: All right then, into the next room. She did want Fletcher to eat a proper meal, she hadn't just come to yell at him. She hadn't been planning to yell either, it had just come out of her.

Fletcher: The last of the security system was coded in before shutting the door. June was led upstairs to his apartment. Some of Marion's clothes were strewn about on the couch and chair. The home itself had a distinctly sweet scent of her perfume. Like cotton candy and clean linen. He'd grown used to it years ago.

"Tell me somethin' nice."

June: June tried not to clench her teeth no matter how much she instinctually wanted to. Everything about that woman made her tense and angry and she wasn't entirely certain it was all to do with Fletcher. Marion had probably killed her in a past life.

She unzipped her jacket and let Socks out to go find his mom. "You've got a hell of a beard going."

Fletcher: "Thanks?"

June: "I'll think of something else here in a second." If she could manage to let go of her anger with Marion's shit everywhere.

Fletcher: "What, 'bout me?"

June: "Just in general." She took a deep breath. "I um, I saw Ryan Hawbaker today." A casual allusion to Pete without actually mentioning him. "He and Stella picked a name for the baby."

Fletcher: Plates and utensils were set aside. "Mm," was all he had to say on the subject.

June: "They're having a little girl. Graham is excited."

Fletcher: "That's their son?"

June: June nodded. "Yeah. He's turning 8 soon."

Fletcher: "N'what 'bout your family?"

June: "They're doing good. My brother's doing some renovations on the Hendricks house. They're thinking of selling it now that their daughter's off at college."

Fletcher: "Not one for passin' it along." Not exactly a question; something closer to rhetorical. "Gonna sit with me?"

June: "They would, but she and her fiance are moving to Seattle after they finish school." June nodded. "Of course. Couch or table?"

Fletcher: "Ya pick."

June: "Table then. Easier to cleanup in case the enchiladas make a mess."

Fletcher: He figured. He set the table and plopped into his seat. "What else has been goin' on? New boyfriend?"

June: "I would've told you if there was," she said pointedly. "But no, no boyfriend."

Fletcher: "Oh ya would, huh?" He heard that tone.

June: "You'd be the first person I'd tell."

Fletcher: "How 'bout that Kelly dude?"

June: "He barely speaks."

Fletcher: "Neither do I. Ya like them strong quiet types."

June: "Kelly's not looking. Bonnie came in one day with her tits barely covered and he didn't look once."

Fletcher: "That just means the man's got taste, Junebug."

June: June shook her head. "He's not after anything resembling a relationship with anyone. Just barely lets people try to be his friend. Or acquaintance even."

Fletcher: "Heard 'bout that." Saw more like.

June: "As far as I can tell, all Kelly does is work."

Fletcher: Hell, were they related? "Fuck em, then." His first bite and Fletcher was at peace with the world.

June: "He's a decent guy. Hard worker."

The tiniest smile curved her lips. "Good?"

Fletcher: "Mhm. I needed this."

June: "The food or the company?"

Fletcher: "Both," he said gently.

June: "You can have both any time you want. I've been trying to get you to go to the gym with me for like two weeks."

Fletcher: "Mm. Fine. Tomorrow or this weekend. Ya pick." He felt at his beard. He should trim, he knew, but just hadn't cared enough.

June: "Tomorrow." If it wasn't so late and they both didn't have to work in the morning, she'd take him tonight. This...whatever it was had gone on long enough.

Fletcher: Fletcher all but cleaned his plate, nodding his thanks before leaning back. He was staring off into space again, as he so often did. He wanted to ask about Peter, and in equal share didn't want to even think about him, his name, his face, no aspect whatsoever.

His mouth opened, closed.

Fletcher got to his feet to fetch a beer.

June: While Fletcher stared off into space, June stared at him, wondering what was going through that brain of his.

“What?” she asked softly.

Fletcher: "Hmm?"

June: “You looked like you were about to say something.”

Fletcher: "Nope."

June: “Okay.” She’d leave that be for now. “So what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?”

Fletcher: "Work, upstairs, drinkin', sleepin', repeat."

June: “Then I came at just the right time to shake up your routine.”

Fletcher: "Mhm. Want a beer? Or like... I got whiskey and apple juice?"

June: “Apple juice, please.”

Fletcher: "Nothin' else?"

June: “Nope, I’m good.”

Fletcher: "Wanna do a movie or somethin'? M'free t'night." Her drink was handed over.

June: “Oooh, yes! What should we watch?”

Fletcher: "Whatever ya want. You're in control of Netflix."

June: "Then I say we watch something fun and lighthearted."

Fletcher: "Shouldn't ya be goin' into the city with some girlfriends n'lil dresses havin' the time of your life? Or at The Brig or somethin'?"

June: “I’m right where I want to be, Fletch.” She tugged him down to kiss his cheek. “Spending time with you isn’t a consolation prize. It’s just a prize.”

Fletcher: The Samsa was easily moved. His hum like a rumble from a great beast. He looked much older than truth tonight.

"Fine."

June: “I mean it. Tonight we watch a movie and tomorrow we go to the gym. Maybe we can go for pizza after?”

Fletcher: "And negate all the gym?"

June: “Yes. It’s been way too long since we’ve had pizza.”

Fletcher: "We'll see. I dunno what she wants t'do tomorrow."

June: “Well, even if we don’t get pizza tomorrow we’re still going to the gym.” That shrew would not interfere with that.

Fletcher: "Kay. Said I would."

June: “Good. Now let’s watch this movie.”

#Come to Jesus chapter #junelujano #fletchergoodman

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lexrius · 6 years ago

Text

Dragon’s Mate Part 3

Arthur told me the plan when we showed up to the burrow. I would be helping Harry get to the burrow. I grabbed my broom and apparated to Harry's home early so I can meet up with the aurors protecting the Dursley's. I spotted the family packing and stuffing their car. Harry spotted me and smiled lightly,"Professor!" "Good morning Harry! Busy day?" I looked and saw his uncle glaring at me,"May I come in?" "Of course." I examined the house as Harry helped move some stuff. A man about the same age as Harry stopped on the stairs as he saw me. "Good morning." "Uhh hi." He came down the stairs and placed his box down. "You must be Dudley. I'm Viper Weasley; one of the professors at Hogwarts." I extended my hand towards him. He took it and shook my hand with a small blush. "Uhh nice to meet you too!" Harry was on the side trying not to laugh as Dudley seemed too embarrassed to speak. "Leave my son alone." I heard a voice bark at me. I turned to see a burly man standing there glaring at me. "I wasn't doing anything. I just said good morning." I beamed at Mr. Dursley. "Why are you here?" He asked. "I was sent here by Mr. Weasley to check up on the aurors who are here." "Well they're fine now who the bloody hell are you?!" His face turned red with anger. "Viper Weasley." Mr. Dursley looked at me in shock and backed up,"W-Weasley...You-Your related to those red haired freaks?!" "Well now that wasn't very nice!" I scolded him and crossed my arms in anger. "They had my son's tongue swell up!" "It was probably a prank from one of the twins! Not all the Weasley's are pranksters." "I don't give a damn! You and your filthy kind are not welcome here!" I glanced at Harry as he just shrugged. "Well Mr. Dursley I find it quite rude that you insult MY family! And I only came here to see if you all needed-" I spat out. "Well we don't need the extra help! Your kind has enough guards here!" He spat at me. I felt his spit trickle down my face. "You know Mr. Dursley... I can both literally and figuratively rip your throat out!" I growled at him. "You threatening me you freak!?" "Maybe I am you lazy sod!" I heard footsteps emerge from the kitchen,"I will not stand to hear language like that in my house!" Mrs. Dursley glared at both Mr. Dursley and I. "You're right Mrs. Dursley. I apologize for my words." I sighed,"Is there anything in the house I can help you pack?" Mrs. Dursley looked me over and motioned towards the kitchen,"You can help me in the kitchen." I walked towards the back as Mr. Dursley just glared at me. The kitchen was nice and spacious and the dining room was gorgeous. "This is a beautiful home." "Thank you." She spoke quietly as I helped pack her kitchenware. I spotted the two Aurors looking around the house not even helping. "I can get them to help if you want." I told her as I wrapped the plates neatly. "No they're fine. I'm surprised you are not using magic." I chuckled,"I don't like using magic for everything. Makes me feel lazy." I heard a chuckle come from Mrs. Dursley,"Yeah. You went to school at Hogwarts too?" "Yes. I graduated the year prior to Harry starting." I placed the plates carefully in the box. "I do apologize on the behalf of Fred and George. I don't know what they did to your son, but if it had anything to do with that joke shop of theirs then it was indeed harmless, but very stupid of them." Mrs. Dursley just shook her head,"Their boys what can you expect?" She then observed me,"How are you related to them? You look nothing like the rest of them. Perhaps your mother?" "Huh?" I looked at her confused. Then it clicked,"Oh you got it all wrong. I married into the family. My maiden name is Akela." "Oh silly me; I should have put two and two together. Did you meet him in school?" I smiled and nodded,"Charlie and I started Hogwarts the same year. I was very nervous since my family had just lost my brother and had fallen into the rumor mill. He and my friend Rowan cheered me up on the train." "That was very nice of them." "Yeah. I started to fancy Charlie when I watched him practice Quidditch with the Gryffindor team. He was cute and charming. I made a bet with him that Hufflepuff would beat their team. After the game that we lost, he stopped by the locker room and handed me the golden snitch he caught. "A Present." He said. After every game he or I won he would always be by my side." I spotted her smiling as she continued to pack. I then felt her eyes linger on me. She finally broke the silence after a good fifteen minutes,"May I ask what happened to your face?" I stopped what I was doing as my breath hitched. "I got into a fight with a werewolf. I was protecting my brother-in-law and my students." "Does that mean-" "No. He wasn't in that form.... However the scars are permanent." She looked at me with saddened eyes. She felt tense as she let out a huff of air. "I'm sorry if I seem frustrated. It's just that I've lived in this home for so long." I could tell she was holding something back. "I know the feeling. After my brother disappeared I felt the same way, but I stayed close to my friends who helped me through." I saw a small smile form on her lips,"You remind me of my sister." I smiled and finished packing up,"That's it. I'll take this to the car." I offered. I could see in the corner of my eye Harry watching from the hallway. I made it to the car just as Mr. Dursley finished putting boxes in the car. He shot me a glare. I rolled my eyes and set the box in the back. Harry leaned against the wall watching the aurors talking. "Professor...I want to apologize; I won't be attending Hogwarts this year." I placed my hand on his head. "Understandable Potter. The others will be here tonight. Moody will explain the plan to you." With that I walked to the Aurors. I talked to them and discussed their hideout. ---- Harry and I watched as the Dursley's left,"I'm going to do a perimeter check. Be careful who you answer the door to." He nodded. I rushed out of the house as my wolf form. I scouted the area looking for any death eaters that may gang up on us. I noticed some floating apparitions in the sky and took a mental note. I spotted the order and rushed towards them. "Wotcher Viper! You gave some of us a rightful scare!" Tonks laughed. I turned back with a look of seriousness. "It's a trap. I spotted a couple coming in the south. A couple more towards the east. They know we're moving him today." Madeye nodded and pulled out his flask,"I figured. That's why I brought this brew." I could smell the horrible brew of Polyjuice potion. It took a minute to realise the plan. I nodded and joined the others in the house. Moody explained the plan to Harry and got Fred, George, Tonks, Fleur, Mundugas, Ron and Hermione take the polyjuice potion. I was teamed to go with George and Lupin to act as a bodyguard. Once we got in the air we were targeted by death eaters. I aimed spells at them left to right. I spotted a familiar figure among them. Snape. "Avada Kadabra!" "Protego!" "Sectumsempra!" Snape's curse barely missed my leg. I casts a non-spoken spell at Snape which hit him dead on. I heard Lupin casting hexes and defensive spells near me. George and I used our quidditch skills to dodge the curses. Then Snape appeared before us and aimed his wand at us. "Sectumsempra!" I watched as George was shot by Snapes curse. He then repeated his attacked and hit my leg. I dove down and caught George; crashing my broom to the ground holding on to the bleeding Weasley twin. I felt my leg tear up even more as it hit jagged rocks. We made our way to the portkey. I felt my stomach churn as we were teleported. Lupin and I dragged George who was now slumped over. Blood poured from the wound on his head. I looked around and noticed we were in the fields near the Burrow. We rushed to the entrance and saw Molly and Ginny looking in horror as Harry rushed to our sides. We were second to come back. We rushed George inside to get him treated by Mrs. Weasley. Charlie rushed downstairs and looked at me in shock. He ran to my side and embraced me,"Are you okay?! What happened out there?! What happened to George!?" He then looked down and saw my leg dripping blood. I placed my hand on his chest trying to calm him down. "I'm okay love. Just a little scratch." I told him. Mrs. Weasley came over and wrapped my leg up as Lupin interrogated Harry. He then turned to me wand raised. He asked me his question to which I answered truthfully. He nodded and then made his way to the door where the others soon came popping back to the Burrow. All safe and sound. Except for two. Moody's death came as a shock to us all. I sat there silently wishing Rakepick killed Fletcher. I felt my chest get heavy as my breathing began to turn erratic. Charlie noticed that I was having a small panic attack. I hadn't had one since my time in Hogwarts with the cursed vaults. He squeezed my hand and pulled me to his old room and we just sat there as I cried silently. --- I helped set up the wedding tent giving me flashbacks to last year. I noticed Charlie shooting me a glance. We heard a pop as the new minister and Percy Weasley walking towards us. "What's the minister doing here?" Fred asked out loud. He spotted us and nodded,"Is Potter, Granger and Ronald here?" Mr. Weasley nodded towards the house with a small smile,"They're in the house Mr. Scrimgeour." He looked at us and nodded before turning towards the house. We returned to setting up for the wedding. I went through my wardrobe and found the mahogany dress similar to the one I wore to the Celestial Ball during my fourth year. The girls and I laughed as we helped Fleur in her wedding gown. Soon it was time for the wedding. I stood behind Fluer as her and Bill spoke their vows to one another. It was beautiful and touching. We then all gathered to the dance floor after the ceremony. Bill and Fleur danced merrily as the music played. Soon the bridesmaids and the best men gathered to the dance floor picking a partner. I wrapped my arms around Charlie as we danced. It reminded me of the Yule Ball during the triwizard tournament. I had convinced Charlie to go with me, since we didn't go to the Celestial Ball together. He gripped his hold on me as he kissed my bare shoulder. "I love you." "I love you too Longhorn." We then stopped after a while to get something to eat. I sat next to Ginny and talked about the school year. I noticed that she kept glancing at Harry. "Gin...He'll be okay! Besides; I doubt that boy would want to die off if it meant leaving you behind. He'll be back." I placed my hand on hers and smiled. She smiled back and nodded,"Yeah..I know.." I looked around as everyone was smiling and dancing, but the atmosphere soon died down as a silver wisp of a lynx ran into the middle of the dance floor. It was the scream of one of the attendees that caught my attention. Both Charlie and I pulled out our wands and watched intently. Other attendees did this as well. The Lynx patronus opened its mouth,"The Ministry has fallen. Schrimgeour is dead. They are coming." Guest started screaming and disapparating as black smoke filled the tent. With my wand at the ready I shot a few spells before getting locked in combat with one death eater. I ripped his mask off and saw the face of my own brother. "Jacob..." I looked at him with saddened eyes. He aimed his wand at me,"I'm sorry." He sent a curse at me that sent me flying into a table. "Cru-" "Stupify!" Charlie jumped in front of me and stunned Jacob backwards. The fighting came to a close and we were rounded up for questioning. They finally made it to me. "Viper Akela...Jacob's younger sibling. Where is Potter?" I leaned back and crossed my arms. "I don't know. He apparated away during the fight. He could be anywhere. Besides even if I did know; why would I tell you?" He glared at me and pulled back his hand and back handed me. I saw Molly flinch. Fire burned in her eyes as she glared at the death eater. I tasted blood and watched the man get closer with his wand,"Don't make me get ugly with you Akela!" I spit in his face and glared at him. "I don't know where Potter is. Now leave us be." I glared at him. I spotted Jacob looking away from me. "Watch your tongue when you go back to Hogwarts... Professor Weasley." With that they left. Mrs. Weasley rushed over and checked my lip,"I'm okay Molly." I placed my hand on hers. I helped them clean up the wedding and soon got myself ready to go back to Hogwarts. Fred and George returned to their shop. Bill and Fleur left the next day. Charlie was packing to go back to Romania. He begged me to return with him. "I'm sorry love. But someone needs to protect the children." I kissed him before returning to my bags. --- Ginny and I made our way to the Hogwarts express. She met up with Luna, Nevile and Rey while I made it to the teachers section. There I spotted Slughorn, Flitwick, Sprout, Hooch and McGonagal. "Viper!" I turned and spotted Rowan rush towards me and embrace me. "Rowan; how's Ben?" I saw her face turn sour. "He's in hiding." I noticed she was playing with her wedding ring. I remembered back when Ben proposed to Rowan. They were so happy. I remember during our fourth year when the celestial ball was announced. Ben and Rowan dancing together in the room. Smiling laughing. Penny, Andre and I set them up for a date which worked out miraculously. Our last day of Hogwarts; Ben took her to the Black Lake and proposed to her during the sunset. And now they live separately. "He'll be okay Rowan. He's strong. And brave." I gave her a tight hug and sat next to Flitwick going over some of my teachings for this year. It wasn't until the train stopped was where things took a turn. All of us rushed to where the students were. Death eaters gathered on the bus looking for Harry. "He morons! He isn't here." I shot Neville a look that made him quiet. The death eaters turned towards us and grinned. "He's not wrong. Why on earth would Harry come here?" I spat at him. "Oh I wouldn't be so sure of that Akela. He will most likely come; and when he does we will kill him and all who defy us." The death eater then turned to two other death eaters,"Alecto! Amycus! Looks like you two miss the train. Let's not keep them waiting for long." All of us teachers looked in shock as the two death eaters got on the train. They walked passed us and made their way to the teachers section. --- The ride to Hogwarts was quiet. I took the time to write notes on all the creatures I was going to teach about. I jumped when a hand crawled its way up my shoulder. I looked and saw that is was Amycus. "You are bloody fine looking to be a petty teacher. The name's Amycus Carrow. And what do I call you?" His horrid breath hit my face as he got closer. "Taken. Now leave me the hell alone or I will personally rip your throat out." "Yes I've heard you can turn into a wolf. Don't worry; we can try doggy style later." I looked at him in disgust and slapped his face. He laughed and held a low growl at me. "I'll remember that later. Perhaps I can get Greyback to finish what he started" I shuddered at the thought. Professor sprout placed her hand on my back and switched seats with me. I continued with my lectures until darkness covered the skies. I noticed more and more death eaters on the grounds. My heart raced with worry as I made my way to the Great Hall. Snape sat in the headmaster's spot. My heart began to beat faster as I realized that they have taken over the school. After the very quiet feast; I retreated to my room. I quietly whispered into my wand a warning to the order,"Expecto Patronum..." I watched as the mare galloped away into the night. I brushed my finger against Athena's chest feathers as she gave me love nips,"Thanks girl. I needed some love." I gave her a mouse and let her eat in peace as I sat down and started sketching Athena to try and keep myself calm. ---- Throughout the weeks I have had to help students who had been used as target practice. I noticed some students disappearing throughout the weeks and re-appearing wounded and crying. I silently thanked all those times I trained with Madam Pomfrey. I had mastered healing spells and potions. I spent my spare time helping Madam Pomfrey heal students. "This is outrageous! These poor children having to go through this. And we can't say anything about it!" Madam Pomfrey sighed as she leaned back in her desk. I poured us some firewhiskey and handed her a glass. She took a sip of the firewhiskey and sighed,"Thank you Akela. My hands would've been full today if you had not stepped in." "It was no problem Madam Pomfrey. I just wish there was more I could do." I took a sip of the whiskey. The burn in my throat distracted me from the pain in my shoulder after blocking a curse from hitting a first year. Our attention turned to the door as Neville was rushed into the hospital wing. His head was gushing out blood and his arm was at an awkward angle. Rey, Luna and Ginny didn't look any better. I focused first on Nevile while Madam Pomfrey turned to Ginny who had a broken nose. "What happened?!" I demanded as I looked at the girls. "A couple of seventh years were beating up a couple of first years and Neville stepped in. They casted Afflicto at his arm!" Ginny tried to speak as Madam Pomfrey healed her nose. "Ginny then charged one of the boys and casted the bat boogy hex at him. Drew on the other hand took a good swing at one of the girls." Luna spoke quietly as I began to heal a gash on Rey's leg. I jumped slightly as a couple of students barged in with complaints. They stopped when they saw the three girls now sitting in chairs. They looked at me in fear,"P-Professor!? T-They attacked us in the hallway! We tried to defend ourselves." The Ravenclaw girl who I knew as Lillah Adams spat out as blood dripped from her lip. "Really now? And what of the first years you were attacking? Where are they?" I glared at all the students who looked at me in shock. "Miss Adams, Miss Martinez and Mr. Lucas; congratulations. You all will be serving detention with me for the next week. I will also be taking twenty points away from Slytherin and fourty away from Ravenclaw. I really hope you all like shoveling Graphorn poop." I heard Ginny snicker,"Something funny Miss Weasley?" "No Professor." Madam Pomfrey and I finished healing all their wounds. Neville had to stay in the hospital wing because of his broken bones. --- The next few months were awful. I would see students come to my class with bruises and cuts. Their clothes covered in blood. It was to the point where I had enough of this. "Doxy Venom." I told the eagle statue. The statue spun around revealing the entrance to the Headmaster's office. I walked over to the entrance and barged into the office. Snape looked up at me with an emotionless stare. "What is it Akela?" "Get your damn death eaters to stop hurting these kids! I am tired of my students walking into my class covered in wounds and blood." My breath was ragged with anger. "I have no control over them Akela. Now I suggest you keep your head low and quiet while we let them do what they do best." He returned to some papers. I could see his hands trembling a little bit. "I can see you care Severus, but if your too cowardly to do something than I will!" I walked out of his office in a flash. I couldn't stand before a cowardly traitor. This man didn't deserve to be called headmaster. I walked back to my room and spotted someone sitting in my bed. I quickly pointed my wand at the figure but then spotted the messy red hair and light brown eyes of my husband. I lowered my wand and tackled him to the bed,"What on earth are you doing here?!" I kissed him deeply. "I came here to pick Ginny and you up. They're tracking us Vi." He placed his hand on my cheek,"I think it might be best if we all go into hiding." I smiled sadly,"I can't." "What?" "The kids who have no home to go back to. I need to stay with them." He pulled me close. I felt him shaking a little,"Please Vi.....If this goes south....I can't lose you." I hugged him back and placed a small kiss to his cheek. "Charles....please.....I need to do this. I need you to trust me." He sighed and looked at me with worry. "Okay. If you think this is for the best." HE then smiled lightly,"Can I at least spend one night with my wife? Afterwards Ginny and I will be gone." I nodded and kissed him. We spent the night embraced in each others arms. --- I woke up to see our clothes on the ground. His arms wrapped tightly around my body. His light snores brought my attention to his sleeping face. I placed my hand on his cheek which now had come to harbor his full grown beard. "Charlie! It's morning! Wake up!" I shook him awake as I began to get dressed. He stretched and grabbed his clothes. "Meet me in Kettleburn’s old office. I'll have Ginny ready." I made my way to the great hall and spotted Ginny with Neville, Dean, Seamus, Luna and Drew. "Miss Weasley....A word please." I told her. She looked at me confused and nodded. She followed me out of the great hall. With a worried glance she looked at me. I leaned against the wall and looked at her,"Charlie is here. He's going to take you to your family. You all are going into hiding." I placed my hand on her shoulder,"Stay safe and look out for each other." "Your not going with us?" "Someone needs to stay with the kids with no homes to go back too. I'll keep them safe." I hugged her and waited for her to pack her stuff up. We made it out without any of the death eaters noticing us. I spotted Charlie feeding my Graphorns. I placed my hand on his back,"Stay safe love." I kissed his cheek and left back towards the castle. "The Room of Requirements!" Ginny yelled. I turned and saw her eyes ablaze. "Putt the students with no homes in the Room of Requirements. Neville, Rey and Luna know what to do. Ask them." She then ran up and gave me a coin,"This is for Dumbledore's Army. Show this as proof." She then hugged me,"Good luck." I smiled and hugged her back. I then made my way back to the castle. ---- I helped escort all the students I could to the Room of Requirements. I spotted a couple of death eaters marching towards Luna who was happily reading. I rushed over to her and stood between her and the death eaters. "Move Akela." Alecto growled at me pointing her wand at me with blood lust in her eyes,"This girl has been breaking some rules and needs to be punished." "And what rule breaking might that be; Carrow?" "More along the lines of her father's doing. She is to be transferred and you will alloy us to do our "Jobs"." Alecto sneered at me. "I don't think so. Stupify!" I knocked Alecto back. Luna now behind me wand at the ready. "Crucio!" Another death eater casted at me. I fell to the ground in pain. I spotted McGonagal and Sprout rushing towards us. The death eaters raised their wands at the two,"You will have a far worse fate." With that they grabbed Luna and then me,"You just earned yourself a nice detention yourself Akela." With that they apparated us away. They took my wand and Luna's and dragged us to a gated mansion. There I saw Bellatrix Lestrange watching with a gleeful grin,"Well well well. We got two presents instead of the one?" She laughed and pulled my hair towards her face. "Caramel Blonde hair. Eyes of Storm Clouds. And scars left by a cursed wolf. Lovely to see you again Viper Akela. I bet dear old Jacob would love to see his little sister again!" She then pulled me towards the door of the mansion. There I spotted the Malfoys, Fenrir Greyback, Peter Petigrew and Jacob. "Why is she here?" Jacob asked quizzing. "She blasted Alecto into a wall while protecting the Lovegood girl. She also has been a thorn in our side at that school. I say its high time we get rid of her." The other death eater spoke. "Put them both in the dungeon. We'll figure out later." Lucius looked at me before returning to his work. ---- I sat in the corner shivering. We had been here for a long time. I had no idea what day or month it was. I helped take care of Olivander who was ill. However I started to grow ill as well. It wasn't until I started noticing that I was gaining weight in which I realized what was wrong. I hid it the best I could as they tortured me. Small tears fell down my cheeks as Bellatrix got done with the cruciatus curse. She stopped as an alarm went off. I watched as snatchers came in dragging three people with them. One of them turned towards me and tried to rush over to me,"Viper!" Ron's voice echoed. "Silence! Greyback; take our guest and Mrs. Akela to the dungeon. While we have a girl to girl talk." Bellatrix laughed maniacally at Hermione. They threw us in the dungeon with brute force. I nearly blacked out from the amount of torture I just endured. "Viper! Viper are you alright?!" I felt Ron kneel beside me. "Ron......why are you here? They'll.....they'll kill you...." I felt Luna rush over to me. "Luna?" "We were taken three months ago. She was trying to protect me from being taken but we both were captured." She stopped as Petegrew rushed down. I sat up and changed into my wolf form. "You better stand down Akela!" He aimed his wand at me,"I only want the goblin." I charged at him with a loud growl. "Difindo!" Lucius rushed down and shot me back into a pillar. I felt a strong pain in my stomach as I landed. They grabbed the goblin and rushed back up stairs. Olivander rushed to my side as I changed back. I was cursing as my body was filled with nothing but pain. A pop was heard as I spotted a house elf standing there talking to Harry. Luna rushed over to me and Olivander with the house elf in tow,"Meet me at the bottom of the stairs in ten seconds." With that we apparated to a beautiful beach. I looked up and saw a small cottage. "Help will be here in a second. I need to go back and help the others." The elf said before apparating back. "Viper?!" I looked up and saw Bill and Fleur rushing towards us. Fleur and Luna helped Olivander to the house while Bill tried to get me to stand. The pain in my stomach grew worse. I knew something wasn't right. The look on Bill's face as he picked me up said it all. I was flickering in and out of consciousness as the pain was getting worse. He set me in a bed and rushed out of the room while Fleur helped me as best as possible. I soon found myself in darkness. ---- I woke up to the sound of people talking. I opened my eyes to see Bill and to my surprise Ben. "Viper! You're up; that is one huge relief." Ben smiled down at me. "W-What happened?" I sat up sorely. "Harry, Ron and Hermione explained what happened recently. Luna explained about the incident at Hogwarts." Bill placed his hand on my shoulder. "Vi...I sent for Charlie." Bill looked down at his wand,"I sent my patronus to Romania." "I wish you hadn't. I don't want him to worry...." I looked at them and noticed they seemed quiet. The air in the room was thick with the feeling of dread. "What's wrong?" I asked Bill. He looked at Ben with a worried glance. "Vi...when....when was the last time you were with Charlie?" Bill crossed his arms. "Wha-I don't-" It took me a second to realize what he meant. I placed my hands on my abdomen. "Vi.....Did you know?" Bill looked at me with worry. "I-I did....Oh God..." I started to shake as I began to have a panic attack. "Viper?" Ben looked at me with worry. "Please leave..." I told them as I looked away. I heard Bill sigh and place his hand on my shoulder before leaving. Ben hesitated,"If you need me. Please don't hesitate to ask." He then picked up his stuff and left. ---- (Charlie's POV) I sat down in my bed with a long sigh while rubbing my eyes from the lack of sleep. I looked beside me at the empty spot on the bed. I remembered her visiting after she finished her auror training. It was also the first time we made love. I remember her eyes lighting up after she got herself tickets to go see the Quidditch world cup. Her visiting in fear after the Askaban breakout. The glow that was casted on to her as I placed the ring on her finger as she agreed to marry me. I placed my hand on her side of the bed. My heart hurt as I thought more about Viper. I heard about her disappearance from McGonagal. My thoughts were disrupted by a silver Lab running in my room. It's mouth opened like it was going to bark, but only words came out. "Get to shell cottage. Ron found Viper. She needs you." I looked at the patronus as it disappeared. My heart beat sped up as I grabbed my coat and apparated to the cottage. I spotted Viper looking away from the window towards something in front of the bed. I spotted Bill walking towards me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the beach. "Bill? What happened?" I pulled away from him when we were far enough. "They were apparated here by a house elf named Dobby. Friend of Harry's. She was in bad shape. Cuts and bruises everywhere. Luna told me she was hit by Defindo and hit a pillar...." "Is she alright?" I saw a look in his eye that made me worried,"She's...she's getting better.....but the baby....Charlie I am so sorry." My brain stopped working after I heard that word. A baby. She was PREGNANT!? "Bill...." "I contacted Ben to see if he could....save the baby..." He looked at the ground and walked over to the edge of the beach,"There was no saving him." A small grave was dug. No name just a small engrave,"Fleur and I...we buried the baby." I didn't realize I was crying until Bill pulled me into a tight hug. It was one of the only times I had cried in front of my brother. And now I couldn't stop. That was my child. My future. Buried in the ground all because of this damned war. After a good few minutes we made it back to the house. Fleur was talking with Ben who I was surprised to see wasn't the scared Gryffindor boy I met my first year, but a stronger man than I was who had come out of hiding to help my wife. "Ben." I smiled lightly and held my hand out. "Charlie...I really have no words." He shook my hand. He stood up and walked me to Viper's room. "She's...She's in shock. She knew about the pregnancy, but she didn't know she..." I stopped him. I opened the door to see Viper with her head in her hands crying. I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped. I walked inside and closed the door. She looked up with glossy eyes. There was no light in them. "Oh love." I walked up to her and embraced her. I didn't realize it, but she was skinnier than she was the last time I saw her. "I should've gone with you." She clung to me as she began to cry again. "No. Viper what you did was brave." "But I lost our child! Why didn't I realize that I was pregnant?!" I pulled her closer as she buried her head in my shoulder. "Shh....." My body shook as I thought of our future together. "Charlie....I want to go home." Her voice shook,"I want to go back to Romania." I nodded and placed my hand on her cheek. Ben looked over her before giving the okay for her to apparate. I watched as she walked towards Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Viper!" Hermione ran up and hugged her,"I'm so glad you're alright!" "Will you be heading back to Hogwarts?" Ron asked. She looked back at me and smiled lightly,"No. I'm heading back to Romania with Charlie." "We have to take care of some business back in Romania, plus Viper needs rest. Fighting now would be suicide." I walked next to her and wrapped my arms around her. I looked at my little brother with pride. He was just a tad bit taller than me now,"Keep each other safe." Ron stepped forward and embraced me. "You too Charlie." He then turned to Viper as she opened her arms expecting a hug. He smiled and hugged her too. Bill was waiting for us outside alongside Fleur. We said our goodbyes and apparated to our home. Viper smiled as she spotted her Granian in our stables. She made her way to the giant winged horse and stroked his muzzle. "Hey boy. I'm home." She hummed. I saw a small spark of light appear in her eyes as she talked to the granian. She took a deep breath as she walked into the house. I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder,"Welcome home love." ---- (Viper's POV) For the next week I relaxed in Romania treating my creatures and wandering the village. I would study and read while Charlie was away. But nothing could shake my thoughts off of what had happen in Malfoy Manor. I placed my hand on my stomach. I felt so empty; like a black hole was placed there. Nothing could fill it. I jumped when Charlie walked into the room. "Viper?" He sat down next to me on the bed. I smiled lightly and leaned into him. His arms wrapped around my body as he hummed. "How are you doing today love?" He whispered to me. I smiled and closed my eyes,"Yes....Charlie....Do you...do you think we can try again?" I felt him pull me closer,"Maybe after the war love." He rubbed my shoulder. A flash caught our eyes. Charlie jumped and pulled out his wand. He aimed it at the silver wolf. "Hogwarts is under attack! We need back-up!" Tonks' voice appeared out of its mouth. I stood up and grabbed my auror gear. "Viper...." "Let's go Charlie. We're getting the gang back together." I waved my wand,"Expecto Patronum!" The mare trotted around the room,"Send to Barnaby, Penny, Liz, Ben, Andre, Tulip and Merula! Hogwarts is in danger. Let's give them hell!" --- Charlie and I apparated to Hogsmede and made it to the three broomsticks. We saw all the citizens hidden and bundled together. "Akela? Weasley?" I turned and spotted Merula. "Nice to see you again Snyde." I looked around as everyone stared at us. "Hogwarts is under siege and we need to help them. We're not going o let no death eaters take this town as their own. Threaten our lives here!" Tulip looked around. "I say we show them what we villagers can do! What Hogsmede is capable of!" Ben cheered with. Merula turned to us and snickered,"You really think the nine of us would've made a difference? We gathered the villagers and parents of hogwarts students to fight alongside us." I barely heard her over the cheers of the villagers. We all grabbed brooms, thestrals and a beautiful hippogriff and rushed over to Hogwarts. We spotted death eaters, students, and teachers fighting. "Let's go!" I dove down and shot hexes and spells at the death eaters. I looked down in fear as I saw Voldemort. I looked and saw the giants charging in. "Aim for the giants attacking the school!" Merula ordered. "Charlie, Ben and I will land and help the professor's!" I told her. She nodded and we split up. I spotted Professor Sprout struggling with some students against death eaters. I landed and rushed towards them with protection spells and jinxes firing away. "Akela!? You're alright!" Professor Sprout had tears in her eyes. I stood beside her and the kids. A growl echoed the air. There stood Fenrir Greyback. His eyes percing into mine. My scars itched and throbbed as my blood pumped through my veigns. "Viper!" Ron rushed towards us with Neville and Rey. "Professor! Take the children to the hufflepuff dorms! We'll handle this!" I aimed my wand at Fenrir. Fenrir growled in contempt,"Come at me blood traitor! I want to rip your heart out and keep it as a trophy!" He raised his wand and sent body binding curses at me. Another death eater joined the battle and started shooting killing curses and torture curses at us. Flashes of red, blue, green and purple colored the walls of the great hall. "Give it up Akela!" I turned to the other death eater to see none other than Ismelda smiling as she shot curse after curse. "Ismelda?! We used to be classmates; don't make me do this!" I looked in sadness as she continued to fire. "You were the bane of my existence. First it was Barnaby and then Merula! You stole every friend I ever had that understood me!" She shot the cruciatus curse at me which hit me in the chest. I rolled over in agony as the pain overwhelmed me. I glanced over to see Greyback still fighting the three kids. They weren't doing so hot now that a third death eater joined the duel. I noticed instantly that it was Jacob. He looked at me in horror as I begged Ismelda to stop. Ismelda was laughing as my screams filled her ears. "Avada Kadabra!" I heard Jacob yell. She looked up and raised her wand,"Protego! Jacob Akela changing sides? Surprise surprise." "Well I resign my position Ismelda! Stupify!" Jacob looked down at me and smiled. I stood up and hugged my brother,"I'm so sorry Viper. Can you forgive me?" I nodded and sank into his hug. Fenrir's growl brought me out of my head. "Help them. I'll take care of Ismelda." I agreed and charged at Fenrir. I shouted every curse, hex and jinx at the werewolf. He was fast in dodging and protecting. "Running away with your tail between your legs Greyback!? Come out and fight you tosser! Bombarda!" I aimed at the piece of ruble he was hiding behind. "You dirty blood traitor! I'll slaughter your entire family right in front of you. Starting with that blood traitor husband of yours!" He charged at me as I readied my wand, but an explosion stopped him in his tracks. I looked over to see Ron furious. "No one threatens my family!" The werewolf laid on the ground in his own pool of blood. I turned to the three students and smiled. "Akela!" I turned and saw Ismelda furious at me. She aimed her wand at the kids,"Avada Kadavra!" I jumped in front of them readying myself to cast a protection spell. Then I froze. This was my classmate. The same person who I helped confess her feelings towards Barnaby. In my mind I started to panic as I wasn't fast enough. The killing curse flew towards me in a blinding light. "Viper!" I snapped out of my trance as Jacob blocked the spell with his body. My heart stopped as Jacob's body fell lifeless in front of me. "Expelliarmus!" Neville waved his wand and disarmed her. I clung to Jacob whose eyes were lifeless. Tears formed in my eyes,"Jacob? Jacob!?" I called out his name while shaking him,"Please....Please wake up!" I gripped his cloak as I cried in his chest. "Oh please Akela! You really thought your weak family would stay alive with the dark lord's ruling?" I looked up at her. Fire burned in my chest as I glared at her. My animegus form growling in anger. "Ron. Please take Neville and Rey and help any others you can. I'll take care of Ismelda." The three nodded and ran off. I walked towards her with anger. "What are you going to do Akela? Kill me? I'd like to see you-" She was interrupted by me punching her in the face. I punched her a couple more times before I knocked her on the ground. "You killed my brother, threatened my family and you think I'll just arrest you?! Then you're out of your fucking mind!" I transformed into my animegus form and started to maul her. "Viper!" I turned and spotted Penny, Chiara, Barnaby and Merula standing there with shocked looks. I dropped the now wounded and crying Ismelda. I changed back and looked at my shaking hands. "I-" "Bombarda!" I turned just as Ismelda shot the spell at me. Everything then went dark. --- I woke up to see Charlie holding my hand. He looked lost in his thoughts and had dark bags under his eyes. "Charlie?" I croaked out. His head shot up and he pulled me into his arms. "Thank Merlin you're alive! Penny told me what happened with Ismelda." He kissed me softly before I saw tears running down his face. "I couldn't afford to lose another family member today." I looked at him with worry,"Who-" "Fred. He died during the first battle. I just found out." He placed his hand on my cheek and rested his head on mine. I then remembered about Jacob. "Wait Jacob...." Charlie gave me a sympathetic look,"I'm so sorry Viper." He kissed my head and held me close as I wept in his jacket. I heard Tulip cry out Tonks' name from the distance. My head jolted towards the sound just to see Tonks laying dead. "It's over now. No one else will get hurt." I turned to see the Weasley's walking towards us. I nodded and placed my hand on Charlie's chest. I spotted Rowan rush over to an injured Ben. Barnaby held Penny in his arms as she cried over Tonk's body. Merula comforting Tulip, Liz helping soothe the magical creatures and Chiara helping heal anyone that was wounded. "Yeah....it's over.." I sighed as I curled into his chest. ----- 19 years later I pushed my trolley in front of me. It was covered in books and suitcases all ready for the new school year. Charlie walked close behind me as talking about the new dragon sanctuary they were moving out to Scotland. We had discussed moving there so we would be closer together. I turned and noticed our three children trudging along with us. Gideon looked so much like his uncle George that it took us by shock. The only difference is that his air color matched my own. He was even covered in freckles like Charlie. He tightened his grip on the broom we had gotten him for his birthday last year for making it on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as their beater. While on the other hand Ava looked a lot like me, but with her father's hair color. She thumped Gideon's head with her broom as she had made it on the Hufflepuff team as their seaker. A few freckles here and there appeared on her face, but my mother still laughs at how much we are alike. The twins began to argue which team was better and I had to admit; for two fourteen year old kids, they sure were loud. I looked behind and noticed our youngest was walking slowly. Jacob; kept his head down as we made it to Platform 9 3/4. "Jacob darling; what's wrong?" He looked up at me with worry,"I'm worried that my friends forgot about me. I didn't send them a lot of mail during summer. What if their not my friends anymore?" The twelve year old started sniffling. "Well I doubt Mary Alice will ever forget about you. I mean you both share a house together. And obviously B.J will always have your back. And then you have James. You know he won't let anyone pick on his favorite cousin." "Gideon is his favorite cousin." "No Gideon does pranks that James likes. You two stick together like glue. I'm sure their all waiting for you." I walked him towards the train and saw Charlie talking to George. I gave him a kiss on the cheek,"The train is about to leave. I'll send my owl later." "Don't teach them too hard Professor." He chuckled. I said my goodbyes and got on the train. Penny sat there reading the Daily Prophet next to Rowan who was talking to Trelawny about her son just starting to walk. Neville was talking with Professor Sprout about some Herbology notes for the year. I sat down in front of them and started going over my notes for the new year. I smiled when an old photograph of all of us on our graduation day smiling and joking around. I looked out the window and saw the sun's reflection on the lake's surface. A reflection of a bright future.

----

Finally all done! Sorry it took so long! I’ve been working, moving and sick all in two weeks T.T

I have something new in the works as well. I’m going to write about Viper’s Hogwarts adventures. How she became who she is. How she attained her animegus form. And how her and Charlie got together.

I hope you enjoyed and I’ll see you all next time!

#Battle of Hogwarts #hogwarts mystery #viper akela #jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x reader #Harry Potter

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theodorefletcher · 6 years ago

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Theo’s Sad Bitch Letter

we finished him lads // @pleasantprefects

Theo sat by the lake surrounded by parchment. They were finally going to finish this stupid letter that had been eating at them for awhile now. This was stupid. Why were they doing this? They should have given up a while ago. Just tear it up and throw it away. They sighed and picked up the envelope. It was already addressed.

To: Mr. Tobias Fletcher

His Cell in Azkaban

They stared at it for a long moment and set it back down. They picked up their quill and began to write again. If they didn’t finish today they were giving up. It was now or never they decided.

Father,

It’s me, Theo. Oh wait I guess you don’t know about that-I go by Theo now. Maybe mum told you, or Matthew. I don’t even know if we are allowed to write to you...or if I’ll even send this. I just need someone to talk to. I guess I should maybe catch you up on what you’ve missed in the last 12 years. Was it 12? I guess a little more now. Seeing as they took you not long after the battle.

That’s my only memory of you you know. Of the Aurors coming to Grandmother’s house and taking you and mum away. And then mum coming home alone weeks later telling me and Matthew you wouldn’t be coming back. I didn’t understand then. I was only 4. But I guess you know that. Matthew though, it killed him. He kept some of your things. They are hidden in his closet and he doesn’t let anyone touch them. He hardly spoke about you after you were arrested, but I could hear him crying at night for a long while. I think mum heard too and put a stop to it. She hated crying. She said we had to be strong. We had an image to uphold. Mum got rid of everything else of yours as soon as we went back home. Told everyone you forced her into all the horrible things she had done for Voldemort too and that it was for the best that you were no longer in our lives. Her private views were a little different though. I’m sure you can imagine. Mother always was a good liar. I’m seeing that more now that I’m older. Growing up with her wasn’t exactly easy. She’s never been the warmest person. I don’t know if that has more to do with the way the war played out or if that’s just Mum, but either way I’ve always felt pretty lonely especially after Matthew started school. And Mum was always so critical. Everything felt like a performance and I never knew how to act. I don’t really think she wanted to be a Mum she doesn’t act like it. I know I’ve been a difficult kid sometimes, but Matthew has done pretty well I’d say and she’s still so harsh to him too. Especially after he broke off his engagement. She had chosen a “perfectly suitable match” for him and he “threw it away.” I can’t wait until next summer. After graduation. I’ll be a 7th year next year if you didn’t know. Then I can pack my things and leave. Though I don’t know she’s still my Mum and the only parent I remember. It’s not like I never want to see her again. Just want some space. I’m rambling. I know that. I’m sorry.

There’s a lot to tell you. 12 years is a long time to fill someone in on. We started speaking to the Davieses (?) again after you left. They have a son my age. We aren’t very close, but it’s nice having someone in the family still at school even if he doesn’t have the same viewpoints on certain things as I do. Samuel helped me study for OWLs my fifth year, let me borrow some books and notes, didn’t do much though.

Speaking of school that sounds like a good place to start. You’ve read too much about Mum. I was sorted into Hufflepuff. I asked the sorting hat to put me into Slytherin, but it said I wouldn’t do well there. I wanted to be in Slytherin like you and Matthew and Mum and your parents. Mum had always said when I was younger that Hufflepuff is for kids without any talent. The reject house. It’s a view she still maintains. She blamed a lot of my shortcomings on my house. She’s wrong though about Hufflepuffs. My best friend Nathaniel is a Hufflepuff, and he’s amazing. He does alright in school. He’s got a lot of friends, and he wants to be Auror. If you ask me, I’d say he’s got a good chance too of becoming one. Whatever problems Mum has isn’t a Hufflepuff thing it’s just me. But I can’t just tell her that. Anyways, what else. I joined the Quidditch team. Keeper. I was Captain my 5th year but stepped down at least for this year to focus on school. I’m Prefect too. They announced it at the feast the end of my 4th year. That night-well it wasn’t great. I made some new friends I guess but they don’t feel like friends. I mean Annie is pretty cool. She’s nice. I really like her and I’d say she’s my friend. And there’s nothing against her girlfriend. She’s nice too we just don’t talk much. Maybe we should. I don’t know there’s always been a lot of tension and I’m always fucking things up. I want to do more. Want to prove myself I guess but I’m always just making things worse. I know I know I can’t change anything if I just give up and I’m not I’m just frustrated and it’s not like I can talk to anyone else about it.

5th year let’s see. Well, OWLs. I studied. Hard. All year. I failed most of them. Only passed 4 I believe. Not enough to be an Auror. Oh I want to be an Auror by the way. I probably shouldn’t seeing as you’re in Azkaban and all and that’s a weird thing to think about together. Sorry about that. It’s ok though I probably don’t have a chance anymore since I messed up my exams so badly. Let’s skip the rest of that year. Wait! No one thing. I met a boy. He’s nice and funny and just all kinds of wonderful things. He’s teaching me about Muggle stuff and he got me such an awesome gift for my birthday. He’s been teaching me football and got me my own ball and also a pin that says “My Favorite Quidditch Player.” I feel really lucky that I’ve met him. Except. His name is Elijah. He’s muggleborn though. I’m sure you will have the same opinions as Mum there. ——

This year. I’m a 6th year. I only got 4 OWLs but Professor Ainsley is letting me stay in Muggle Studies with a poor and what else do I have to do. I’ve got 5 classes and too much free time on my hands. I kind of miss my other classes. Oh well I can get a head start on studying for my NEWTs and practicing Quidditch I guess. And they’ve got this competition this year. The Virtus Games. I’m not competing but Samuel is. He’s one of Uncle Anthony’s kids if you didn’t know. And some horrendous beast was set loose in our dormitory. It was terrifying. It’s ugly little eyes were watching me and it’s not helping me be able to sleep.

——————————————————

Theo scratched a line angrily across the parchment. Their frustration was only growing.

Fuck this isn’t helping. None of this is what I really want to talk about.——-I joined a cult. Well I don’t know if joined is the right word that implies that I signed up for this willingly thinking it be a fun extracurricular. We’re bringing magic back to Squibs. Magic that was stolen by Muggleborns. It’s a noble cause I think. I feel lucky to be apart of something so big. Something like this can really change the wizarding world. But some of the things we’ve had to do-it’s hard to get passed them. Especially because I can’t talk to my best friend or my boyfriend about them. And I’m not really sure if I could talk to the others. Not that they wouldn’t understand I just feel odd talking to them. We aren’t a very close group. Or at least, I’m not close with them. Pennington. And Professor Murray. And not just that. It’s all so much but the thing that bothers me the most is I can’t stop thinking about you. I never wanted to be like you. I wanted to be better. I hated you so much these past several years. For leaving me and Matthew. Leaving us with Mum. Leaving us behind to deal with what you did. But now I’m no better than you are. I’m a murderer too or an accessory to one. I don’t understand the technicalities not that they matter much. The only hope I have now is that we can actually help people. A lot of people. Unlike you. Who have you helped? Certainly not your family. I’m glad I never wrote you before. You’re not worth the parchment. I won’t be writing again.

Have a nice life,

Theodore Fletcher

Theo threw the parchment down in anger and scrambled for their wand. They crumpled up the first sheet of parchment and threw it in the air. “Incendio!” The parchment fell to the ground still burning. They grabbed the next page and did the same. Again and again until nothing was left expect the envelope addressed to their father stuck between some spare bits of parchment that had been spared. They grabbed it and pressed it flat against the ground reading it again and again. Tobias Fletcher. Theo wished they could see him face to face. Maybe there was something he could say to them that would make this better. Finally they snatched the envelope off the ground and crumbled it up as well tossing it in the air. “Incendio!” Theo yelled. The envelope fell to the ground intact. Nothing had happened. Again. “Incendio!” The spell fizzled. The envelope fell to the ground once again. “Damn it.” They were crying now. This was stupid. They wiped the tears from their eyes and tried once more. “Incendio!” Finally the envelope went up in flames just like the rest of the letter. Theo stood and tucked their wand away. They slung their bag over their shoulder and made their way back to the castle leaving being bits of ash and parchment.

#theodore fletcher #writing

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bonbonswirl-blog · 6 years ago

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Broken

ALL THE CHARACTERS BELONG TO @brueklynn I OWN NOTHING. Because there is a character that we dont have any kind of idea about them, i will just go by 'another person' without any names or features, just a person XD i made this while having cold so it may seem a little off, try to enjoy Xd

11 pm

Behind a bar.

Thats what the letter said. Eyes lingered over the lines before the letter was lifted down to show the view of a big bar, was that really the place he was meant to visit? Only one way to find out. He entered the bar, rough paintwork that coats the door and push, shards of black paint crumble to the floor. The bar curved into a room, dark in the barely lit place, through the windows the diamonds of lead panes trickles the sallow light of street lamps. The hinges squeal as though they are a warning, but their plea is silenced by a wall of noise. Laughter overpowers the jukebox. Conversations swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke, the stagnant stench of cigarettes hides within the collaboration of mephitic odours. A sharp smell of drink wafts towards him, like black plumes bellowing from the windows of a burning house. There is even a hint of sick tainting the fragrance of the room.

He looked up and down, right and left, He cant find the sender of the letter, wait...Of course he wont! the letter said to meet Behind a bar! Now have he to find where is the back door that leads to outside. It took him long enought till he found it. trying the door knob, the heavy iron bound door swung open, revealing a wide area enclosed by a flimsy hain-link fence. The unrelenting darkness took over everthing, plucked the stars and anything that can glow, burying them beneath the sky. The air had thickened, the temperature dropped and nowhere was there a comforting sound. Trash cans leaning on the bar cracked walls, ground covered in dusty powder, what looked like a streetlight, which was the only one that isnt fully broken, flickered, casting an errie smudgy beam onto that black place. That wasnt really the...best place you could invite someone to meet you in...It was all quiet and derelict. He had the enough courgage to step forawrd, walking unusually slow, he had an odd gait, It was slightly lurching as he went, trudging along at a sedate pace. His head right and left, searching for who he was supposed to meet with, his mind focused on finding a sign of someone in this hopeless space rather than the footsteps that seemed to echo throughout the desolate yard, why didnt he just call the name to hear a respone? Maybe because it doesnt sound like a good idea to do so in this haunted place. Yet still, he kept finding his eyes diverting to something each moment he heard a low simple sound, darting to locate the source. Thats until, under those overwhelmed black shadows, and after a short stroll, he found who he was looking for, standing there uncommonly, under another bulb that lacks illumination. His boyfriend clicking his feet to the land underneath, probably out of pateince. Finally, harry found him! Walking towards his direction smiling. "Hey babe!" "harry..." "oh boy! why you gotta choose this place for a meeting? We could have gone inside the bar as usual, right?" Harry was still confused beind the sudden call at this late hour, but he didnt care. "Tonight we...not gonna drink at the bar." "uh, ok? So, why did you send this letter today? What are we going to do?" He pulled it from his pocket to show the proof. "Harry we....we need to talk." Not like this startled harry a lot, but it wasnt in an ordinary tone. "Sure! Talk away!" His boyfriend spoke with his head to the dusty ground. "You see...how both of us go together to do anything. to walk together, to talk to each other everyday, to work and help each other when in any of us in trouble, it was all nice werent it?" The sudden mention of their sweet times together was also strange. "Of course! And im glad I do all of these thing with you!" "and this is what I wanted to talk about tonight harry..." the fletcher paid his attention, waiting for his darling to start the conservation, he doesnt need to consider bad possibilties, instead he was a bit happy inside, what if those mentions were to remind the other of their constant affectionate attachment and celebrate 'something' together? That would be a lovely thing! It was tenser than a tiger who stalks a prey while harry lover peers his way to him, face resolutely unimpressed. "I think this..... relationship needs to...needs to....needs to end." Harry stopped like he had taken a bullet to the guts. The words fell on him like a storm. The cold air hitting his face.

"...What?......" He may just heard it wrong, he hoped he really did, he wished he did and this is not what his love just stated, doubt was filling him. "We need to end this harry." His boyfriend repeated, affirming his recent words. No, his hearing was right, thats what he just said... "What....W-What do you mean?!?" "What do you think I mean?" His lover raised his eyes to meet harry ones, so he would know he isnt just messing around. It took harry a while to speak again. "You dont really mean this..." "Do I look like I am joking?!?" Harry looked downward briefly. "but...But....I...I thought we loved each other..." "You Are Right!! LOVE'D'!! Its all from the past harry!!" Why would he say such a thing...his mind cycles through emotions faster than a kid flipping radio channels, he was broken. Harry couldnt accpet what is taking place, but what else is there to do? "dear you...I dont think you are in your right mind tonight..." "No!! YOU Are Not In Your Right Mind Harry!!! Didnt You See It?! This ISNT Working!!! It Never Did!! Now Go Away!!" "Wha-" "Go Away!!!" his words and his anger cut too deep that harry couldnt change the image of him. When he met his gaze his was just the same. "No" "Why Dont You Get It?! Go Away!!" "No I wont! you need to go back to your sanity!!" "Im In My Full Sanity! Just Go Away!!" "Not Until I know Whats Wrong!" "I Said GO AWAY YOU GARBAGE!!!!" Rising his fist, his hand swinging out connecting to harry face in a flash of pain. Although not on his back, harry toke a few steps back from the impact. Bewildered, pressing a pale hand to his cheeks trying to comprehend the previous seconds. Did..Did his..Did his boyfriend for the first time just....punched him?!

"You......." "I told you to go away." " I DONT UNDERSRAND YOU! WHY?! DID YOU CALL ME OUT TO THE BAR AT 11 PM JUST TO BREAK UP WITH ME?!" "yes, I Cannot keep this up any longer Harry, I needed to do it now." "Im Not Breaking Up With You Until You Tell Me The Reason!" "look At Me In The Eyes And Say You Still Dont Know The Reason!! I Dont Even Know What Got Me To Agree To Be With You!" With each little word... a piece of harry heart broke. "...how could you say this...what happened that changed you?...." "Changed Me?! YOU Changed Man!! I Kept Being Myself and Been Who I am While Keeping Our Connections Stable!! I Did Everything With And For You!! Even In Stupidest Things! And I Shouldnt Have!" "But Bab-" "I Hate You!!" "No-" "I Always Did! And I knew One day you willl hate me too!" Thats wrong. They both loved each other, they said it and showed it, all of these are just words from anger...so why all this nonsense about love and hate? Where had he gone wrong? Since when did this love turn to poison? He doesnt know what had climbed inside His beloved and turned him mad. "Stop!! YOU Need To Calm Down!" "NO!! And For The Last Time Go Away!!" "Not Until I know The Reason!!" "No You Wont Know Now Go Away" "I Already Said Not Until I know What Happened!!" "GO AWAY!" "NO!" "You Gave Me No Other Choice!!" Without thinking, harry boyfriend turned around to grab something from a near shelf. It was revealed to be a small bucket. However, when harry figured out the kind of liquid thats inside it, the intended message was already enforced, and he lost what little colour he had, starting to freak out.

"Dont you dare....." "Oh I will! I will throw all this bucket content at Your Face If You dont leave Me!!!!" The other man couldnt believe this..his lover cant do that...yes he may be out of his mind right now, but he will never have the nerve to throw some unknown chemicals straightly on his face, it was just an empty threat to leave. and all he could do was to stare lifelessly at the eyes that held that bucket and a terrifying coldness he had never seen before. He had always thought those eyes were like a gem, but looking at them now he could see no trace of the vibrancy they once held, no trace of the boy he once knew. "Darlin-" "DONT CALL ME DARLING ANYMORE!!" There was stillness on both sides, faces unreadable. "Please be back to yourself..." "Leave Me Alone! "Please!" "Your Last chance Harry....GO AWAY" "PLEASE!!" "THATS IT!" That was when the cold man lost it altogether, and the unexpected happened. In an immediate movment he launched forward, tossing all the liquid inside the bucket in an aim to harry head, although it wasnt a full success, he did strike a part of his face. Harry swore he could had saw some good memories flashing before his eyes. And whatever that scorching substance was, when it fell Againist Harry face.

He Howled

It Was Hell.

The pain had no culture, no pity, no mind, yet it consumed whatever it pleases. Its only criteria is if it can take it and reduce it to something molten and foul, paroxysm of agony triggered a guttural cry from the fluter. His hands clawed over his burning face, brutally gashed. Solvent swirls on it without any mercy, penetrating to the cells that should be protected by smooth skin but lie open. Surge of torments spirals all over him. Violent shaking forced through his whole body, with no assume of stopping. Monstrous chill continued running down his spine and made his ghostly skin crawl. Muscles going to giving up. The worst of the blood had spelled, ran freely in thick scarlet rivers amongst his whole face, staining his hair, matting them together before it soaked into his cloths and the floor. From a clear distance outside, it was like a high barking that carried well through walls and air. Lungs have no choice but to painfully and rigidly take in the chilled air around for a living breathe until they couldnt anymore. He have cried and screamed, maybe not evident, nevertheless it was as if he was calling for a help, but there was no help to come, perhaphs the strength in his voice perished. His breath taken away every second, he was in his greatest neccisity of taking an inhale.

Thats until he decided to surrender to the torturing and sink into the unfolded darkness.

He was in a heavy black cloud. Nothing to see, Nothing to hear, Nothing to feel, Just this heaviness in his whole body. He couldnt remember how to open his eyes, but when he did, he scrunched the opened one at the bright light that was sipping through his closed eyelid, in struggle he slowly opened it, desperately squinting in attempt to sharpen the blurred images before him. Pungent smell of hospital disinfect invading his nostrils. The room was silent apart from the beep beep sound you often hear in hospitals that indicates youre alive and Quiet talking. He started to sense something, or rather a material, soft but elastic tightening around his whole sore face, from chin to forehead, even one of his eyes were covered, it was very aching. When the sight of his survived eye arised, he perceived Someone bending over him, face watching his. What harry never toke notice of is that they are holding his weak hand, and that they have little tears in their eyes. The features were not clear, but it can be marked that they have a light brown hair and wearing something..blue? Harry attempted hardly to recognize who is this, but he coudnt with this wounded brain, then he heard the familiar word that assisted in that. "...Brother..." Harry tried to remember how to talk. No words came, he blinked trying to force his memory to recall the owner of this soft voice with broken tone. He was out of ability to even clear his throat. He tried to answer, to say something, but all what came out was a tiny whisper. "...augh....ma....rley?..." The other man wrapped his arms around the injured one shoulders and pulled him close, hugging him gently to not provoke the burn. "shhhhh...save your strength brother...it will be alright..." Marley had a hard time hiding his sniffs, but harry havent got enought focus to realize. His sibling tenderly patting his hand, giving a queit moment for the victim to adapt to the consciousness. Harry lie still, slowly started blinking, he wanted to see whats around him. But he cant lift anything off this deep pillow. He used the very bare left of his capability to move some little angles right and left for learing about his new surroundings. Glancing around the bright white coloured bedroom. He catched sight of someone wearing the same color for a coat, staring at him from the door. He strain to hear and makes sense of it all. No idea. Where is he and why? How long had he been here? He shut his eyes, trying to remember what had exactly occured. Then it all hits him with a bang, The memory of it all starts to occupy his thoughts, panicking he jolted up with rushing hands running at his bandages, making sure this is true, the wound hurting with every touch of his finger, he figured it all out.

He lived

He laid back in his bed, he felt powerless and heavier, Couldnt move his hands, head or bod, His eyes washed with the kind of emotion that only come when people break in ways with no way to be repaired. "Whoever did this bro...they are Not Getting Away With This!!!!" "Mr. Marley please calm down the patient is still in an unstable condition." Marley sighed, plummeting his head to the bed, holding his brother hand a bit tighter. "im sorry doctor...its just that..." He couldnt continue his sentence for some reason, instead he started a new one. "Harry...please get better...for your family...for your friends...for me...please..."

Harry spent the rest of his days in the hospital remaining still in the bed. His head eaither felt heavy or light. He lost the track of time and may needed somebody to tell him, but he never cared, he will let all the time pass without any hint of concern. He never felt that alone or empty before. Sometimes, he replay the events in his head and wonder what were the right words to say, what was it that could prevent everything, it wont change that he is all to blame. It might had been kinder to kill him than to constrain him with living beside this burn. Everytime he try to sleep and leave this living nightmare, he cant. He never had the enough hope to recover or be cured. He wont, he doesnt need, he already knows he will never get better, he will never be the same.

If only

if only...

If only he didnt go behind that bar at 11 pm.

#brueklynn #harry fletcher #marley meriweather

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